#what happened to me? did i keep waiting for all those miracles to happen? for a lottery to strike?

[starlitscars]

Made of ice

Jackson era! Joel Miller x F! Reader

Summary: One stormy night in the safety of Wyoming, it occurs to Joel that even though life has turned his heart into a slab of ice, there's a soft, melting spot buried deep inside... Only reserved for you.

Word count: 5.2k

Masterlist

Tags/warnings: MDNI, NSFW, implied age gap, canon-typical violence, Joel Miller needs his own warning, protective! Joel, soft! Joel, angst, fluff, smut, finger sucking, fingering, pet names, praise kink, language, no use of y/n, soft dom! Joel, negative thoughts, dea*h wish, self-doubt, self-confidence issues, Joel is a sweetheart here (but he doesn't think he's worthy of peace), rain, lots of rain, lightning, stormy weather, kinda established relationship, let me know if a tag has gone unnoticed.

Author's note: This is my very first attempt at writing for Joel Miller. I've had the idea in my mind for a few weeks now and it's hard to resist when it comes to him (did I say Pedro Pascal?) So I hope the details are accurate and if you decide to read this one shot, I hope you enjoy it as much as I did while writing it. If you want to be mutuals, I'll be more than glad <3

Divider by: saradika-graphics

Made of ice

You should've seen what you made of him.

The calm, slow beats in his chest are strikingly different from how he remembers them. In fact, he vaguely recalls the way those racing, dreadful patterns had carved themselves into his memory. With a rigid heart made of ice, it was nearly impossible to find the pulse in him, even at his most frightened, disappointed state. 

Joel used to walk into the face of danger with a rifle clutched in his dying grip, a life to save and thousands to destroy, and in all those moments any sign of life was nonexistent in him. There used to be rage, hatred, regret, and frustration... Oh lots of frustration, running through the veins in his body. He used to walk, talk, and breathe. But he wasn't alive.

Now he doesn't find it in himself to call it miracle. But somewhere between the lines, you happened. You happened and fuelled the dying fire in the far corner of his heart. He used to keep it empty and dark, like a deserted house with no furniture, a perfect place for the noises in his head to become loud and maybe help him stand the never-ending days of what everyone called life. 

You entered his life and now most of what he feels in these old veins is warmth, safety and attachment. Yes, he doesn't call it miracle, because his past doings are too  stained and unforgivable to deserve a miracle. To deserve you. The real miracle. The fathomable idea of what it feels to be alive.

Joel feels alive.

Some days, it feels like his wretched past is clawing its way back into his mind, calling those demons to end his days of peace with you. Some nights, he's restless... So terribly restless. What if you get injured on your next patrol? What if the Raiders attack you when you're out of the gates of Jackson? What if something bad happens to you the moment his eyes close? What if these damn what ifs come to life? This old mind tricks him into seeing pictures of what has never happened and probably never will. You always assure him that you'll be careful. He trusts you and your abilities, but he does not trust his fears. Because if life is too good, it scares him. 

It scares Joel Miller, way more than it would if he was trapped in a dark room with all of his fears and demons creeping on the cold hard floor towards him. He'd rather spend every day fighting off the Clickers and Raiders and every nasty threat out there, instead of pacing around the room and waiting to see if your patrols end well or not.

So he has no choice but to either convince Tommy to pick him as your patrol partner every damn time you have to do it – which he makes sure is as limited as possible – or occasionally keep an eye on you from a distance and let his thoughts consume him at the same time. Just like what he's doing now. 

His persistence in being close to you tends to earn him annoyed eye rolls and "She's more capable than that, Joel." comments from his brother... almost all the time. But he simply can't help it, and he thinks that you know it. Because you never complain nor haul him over the coals for his instincts and worries and the immense amount of care his rigid heart feels for you. He's silently thankful for that understanding.

You are safe here, he thinks. Even though he feels restless, his heartbeat has never been this calm. He sits and watches you on nights like this and there's only one thought ringing in his head. All the scolding is worth it. You're sprawled out peacefully on the bed. His bed. It must be straight out of a fucking impossible dream. You're here, in his atmosphere, in his menacing, guilty, dark presence... And you have chosen it knowingly. It's all he can ever ask for. 

The dim moonlight is swimming in through the curtains, casting a soft, silvery shadow over your face. Your hair is falling all around you like you're knowingly doing it... Posing for an artist just to paint this delicate beauty on a canva. 

Despite his bitter mood, a content smile tugs at the corner of his mouth. Tearing his gaze from you, he downs the remaining whiskey and silently places the empty glass on the table, deciding that he needs a short walk to free his troubled mind. One morning, Maria woke up and decided that Joel needs to stay behind and help Tommy in fixing the issues in the town's only library. So you should have another partner for your patrol days for god knows how long. He fucking hates being told what to do. He fought tooth and nail to prevent that, and if you weren't there to stop him, he would as well turn the mess hall into another ruin that needed to be fixed – which only meant more time away from you. 

So it's going to take only two weeks, at worst. Only a terrible fortnight before things go back to normal. It's almost unbelievable how you have managed to awaken a sense of normalcy in him that he hasn't known in decades. Your absence is an instant threat to this normal life.

Maybe it's about time he gets used to it. He's not that weak. He shouldn't let his angers and worries run him. More importantly, he shouldn't ruin your much needed sleep with his usual problems right now. You've still got the weekend. He'll take a walk and be back here before you as much as stir in your deep slumber.

Oh. The damn library.

...

Jackson is eerily quiet in the middle of the night, enveloped by darkness and as isolated as it can be in this corner of the world. It's a stark contrast to how busy the whole community is during the daylight – bustling with happy greetings, careless jokes, movie days, small parties, and lots of work to do. It all asks for social interaction and he deeply hates it.

He hates when every passer-by's attention turns to you every time you step out in the open. He hates how prying eyes rove up and down your frame every time you walk into the bar. He hates how... He shakes his head, almost rolling his eyes at the loudness of these thoughts. Joel has to remind himself that he is the one you hold onto and introduce to everyone in every social gathering. The proud gleam in your eyes always placates him. There's no need to break a jaw in this town... Perhaps.

Lights flicker by the porches and the sound of his boots on the ground is the only sound that disturbs the silence. The sky is clouding over, distantly promising another stormy night in its gloomy wake. Occasional flashes of lightning light up the road and before Joel knows it, he's passing by the Tipsy Bison. It's 3 past midnight, no wonder why its doors are locked and closed. Either way he comes to a halt, letting the gears turn in his head as he opts for a very familiar path.

Your house. It's a short walk away from the bar.

Joel still recalls that day. How long has it been? Five, six, seven months? It feels like yesterday to him.

He'd had a terrible conversation with Tommy, not at all the way he'd planned it on his first day in Jackson. Things got heated up pretty quickly, leaving a bitter taste of rejection lingering on his tongue, the burn of the whiskey only worsening his mood.

"Just because life stopped for you, doesn't mean it has to stop for me..."

The words were ringing in his head as he stormed out of the bar. Shrugging his jacket on, all he wanted was to walk as far away from that area as possible. This affronted, begrudging, irrational sting was boiling in him and in that moment he was more than ready to leave the gates of Jackson even if it called for more danger. Life had really ended for him years ago, but to hear it from Tommy right after the hell he'd went through to find him... It really hurt. 

The pain was resurfacing in rapid tides.

If his boots could dig deeper, get stuck in the snow and propel him into the cold biting blanket of the earth, he'd welcome it. If life had really ended for him, he had to make it make sense by ending himself as well. This... There was this distant melody echoing in the air and cutting through his troubles thoughts. The wind was harsh against his ears, and each step brought the melody closer. 

It really could be the last song that played before his funeral.  

Joel was surrounded by all the colors, and all he could see was white, eyes fixed on the ground. He didn't pay much attention as he bumped into someone. He barely lifted his head to apologize, and then his gaze settled on the crackling fire on the left side of the road. 

Red and orange and yellow hues. It was a fresh contrast. His eyes were hurting from all the white snow.

He came to a halt, mindlessly waving at the person he'd bumped into. A dozen of kids had gathered around the burning logs in a barrel on the porch, rubbing their hands together and listening to the same melody he was entranced by. The same melody that he thought would be his burial hymn.

Joel's eyes followed their excited faces, wondering who they were looking at. He saw you mirroring their hopeful gleams first, and then he registered the guitar on your lap. 

To make the matters worse, you had tilted your head, shooting him a funnily quizzical look. He might've looked weird back then. The town's newcomer, with a permanent scowl on his face, maybe plotting murder as well (considering that it was the main topic in all the words that already flew around about him).

He didn't answer, still dead in his tracks as if he was immobilized by some invisible force. So you shifted in your seat, silently offering him a spot among the children as if to say "You can come over and join us."

He had two choices in that moment, either a polite decline was on the table or a dismissive frown. He looked over his shoulder at the bar and finally opted for the third choice – or so his mind created another choice for him – and he nodded, joining in on your little gathering without as much as saying a word. He really wanted to hear that song.

He never asked whether you knew the words to that song, but that night when he lay in bed and his thoughts were far from the idea that he wanted to bury himself in the snow, he vaguely remembered the lyrics. And it hit him hard, like a punch to the gut.

Yeah, I don't want to hurt

There's so much in this world 

To make me bleed

Stay with me

Let's just breathe

Stay with me

You're all I see

He wanted to ignore how the words affected him in the middle of the night. It was the first night he could feel some semblance of peace, not sleeping with an eye open in case someone attacked them. Ellie was safe in another room. So he really considered that. He considered the possibility of staying. He was relatively new to the community... And so damn unaccustomed to the whole arrangement. He almost woke up the next morning and started packing before he remembered where he was.

Stay with me

Let's just breathe

Those words stuck with him.

And his first encounter with you was a harbinger of different things to come.

One day of patrolling with you led to another, one night of inviting you for a drink led to another. One peaceful afternoon in the stable led to another. One gloomy evening in the clinic did not lead to another. He was way too protective of you to let that happen again.

He truly feels lucky. You could be anywhere else, better off if you picked anyone other than this grumpy, old man. And yet you still want him. You silly girl. You've melted his heart with your warmth. 

But he's like a lake, deserted in the middle of a haunted forest and engulfed in coldness. Even though the center is warm and gooey, he keeps the surface frozen and rigid and menacing. Hard enough to keep his instincts sane and alarmed. Cold enough to let everyone know that you're his and he will not fucking share. 

Lightning strikes again in the sky.

He lifts himself up and off your front stairs with a heavy grunt. An hour has passed since he left for a walk. The clouds have fully gathered in the sky and he thinks that he should be by your side now.

Joel really cares little for the details, always asking Tommy and Ellie to spare him the explanation and get straight to the point. But with you, it's hard to forget a couple of things. One night, a few weeks ago, you were pulling him past the threshold of your house. So adorably drunk and inviting. He was still a little pissed by how the rainstorm had ruined your nightly walk. Despite your complaints about sharing a kiss in the rain, he'd dragged you back to the nearest shelter possible, because he just didn't want to get fucking soaked. Joel didn't find it romantic at all. He was frowning, still pinning you against the wall for a begrudgingly needy kiss. You giggled into his mouth, playful fingers pocking at his chest. "Come on Joel. Let yourself enjoy it... All these neverending drops on the roof, the fresh earthy scent that comes after it... It's just really beautiful. One of the few things that kept me sane before I came here..." 

He's not really against the idea. But the changing weather doesn't bode well with him. One day is sunny, and the next is rainy and it just goes to show how he has no power over the situation.

Hell. A part of Joel is really terrified of the changing weather. One day it was scorching hot, and the next his boots crunched against the white blankets of neverending snow, reprimanding him for his carelessness. Time would pass whether he wanted to or not. He is still terrified, wishing he could stretch the time he could spend with you. God knows he wants an eternity with you. 

He has seen enough rain for a lifetime. He hasn't seen you enough. How could he enjoy getting soaked in tiny drops of water when all he wanted was to bury his face in the crook of your neck and stay there for a while – maybe forever and a little more?

But he has considered it since then. If there are a few things that keep you happy and rainy days have to be one of them, he'll give you that. He'll get used to that. There's no pattern with the rainfall in here, and the weather forecast is pretty much nonexistent. He has promised himself to tell you whenever it rains, even though he despises the idea of you catching a cold after minutes or hours of dancing in the cold, letting droplets of water wash over you without a care in this wretched world. 

He also despises the idea of waking you up.

But he knows you'll like it. You careless, adorable girl. He lives to see that excited gleam in your eyes. Everytime you show it, this old heart pounds impatiently in his chest and it all feels like the first time it has happened.

He's back home in no time. 

So, kicking his boots off as silently as possible, he trudges over and settles down by the edge of the bed, suppressing a low groan. His knees still ache from all the never-ending effort he's put in repairing the library over the past few days. Jesus, he just wants it to be done as soon as possible. It feels like he's losing so much time when he's away from you. Now that you're still pretty much asleep in the same position he last saw you, all Joel wants is to lie down by your side and melt in your warm embrace instead of having to fight with his thoughts and the world to not take away yet another precious piece of him. He can't afford to even think about losing you.

Each flash of lightning illuminates the contours of your beautiful face and he can't help himself when he lifts a hand and lets his knuckles gently stroke your cheek. Your lips are parted ever so slightly and you look so innocent in your unconscious dream. He almost backs down, part of him hoping that it rains throughout the day, just so he doesn't guilt trip himself for the pout on your face if you miss it. You need to rest.

As if you sense his hesitation, you stir in bed and lean into his touch. A low hum escapes you, and Joel is too weak to deny himself the softness it brings. His wounded knuckles are soon replaced with a calloused thumb and he wonders what's so interesting about these hands that never ceases to catch your attention.

One night at the bar, Joel had caught you actually staring at them and when he teased you a little about it, you just shrugged and grinned mischievously. "I mean... I just like them so much. Your hands are always warm, and... and that's all."

He shrugged it off that night. Ellie had also considered it a flex for him to have warm hands even in the coldest days of winter, but with you and the way you looked at him... It was different. He knew it was more than that. 

And when the nights he shared with you went further than his sinful thoughts had planned, you showed him that it was more than that. It was more than the warmth you found there. If anything, your helpless whimpers were an indication of how capable and strong these hands were.

Heat blooms in his chest. It simply is endearing. The way you always seem to recognize his touch and send his head spiraling with the idea that you want him to do more. You've never been afraid of him. You've never pushed him away. You've never judged him for the horrible things he's done. Jesus, it should terrify him. Joel should've pushed you away at some point, because he knows you'd be better off without him, but how could he muster the strength to do so? Since that fateful moment on your porch, your presence keeps on inviting him for more. More than simply existing. And God, if you knew how he wants to do more than that every second of the day... Only if the world lets him breathe a little.

There's another bolt of lightning and raindrops finally begin to drum against the window pane.

Joel shakes his head to get rid of those worrisome ideas. Propping himself on one elbow, he leans over ever so slightly and lets his thumb trace its way to your chin, up to your jawline, and then back to the soft skin on your cheek. He draws circles over the blooming flush and then his thumb is traveling down to your lower lip. Your mouth parts just a little more, breathing even and content and if he gets a grip on himself, he may notice that there's a ghost of a smile in there as well.

"Baby..." He whispers softly, his gaze drifting all over your adorable face. You really are a piece of art, tangled in the sheets, in the safety of his house, and your innocent hums are doing something to him. Some obscene voice that silently pleads for more. More and more... Just to give you more. 

You stir a little more.

He leans over and places a gentle kiss on your forehead, the sweet, fruity scent he's come to like a lot about you engulfing his senses. He watches every little movement with amusement. "My sweet baby... You want to see what's waitin' for you outside."

"Joel," you mumble sleepily, voice drowsy and laced with a hint of confusion as you rub your eyes and stretch your arms before looking around the dark room with a quizzical expression on your face. It doesn't take long for the realization to hit you and the familiar gleam in your gaze makes him smile. You stare a him, wide-eyed. "is it- again?"

He chuckles and gestures at the window. "Yes, a heavy one at that."

Again, there's that hum of delight as you follow his gaze. The pitter-patter of the rain cheers you up like a lollipop would do to a child. It's maddeningly adorable.

You should be running to the backyard by now, but instead you stare at him for a while. It's his turn to be confused. Your smile gets broader by each passing second as your delicate hands trace his face and run over the salt and pepper patches of his beard. When you playfully ruffle his hair, your eyes are still droopy and dreamy and so damn kissable that he just can't help himself.

His other hand fondles with a loose strand of hair beside you on the pillow before twirling it between his fingers. You bite your lower lip and lift your head just enough for a brief peck on the tip of his nose. He chuckles, letting his fingers draw a line over the column of your neck, down to your chest, and at last they disappear beneath the sheets, settling comfortably on the warm expanse of your belly. 

Joel assumes that his presence is not too close to lock you in place, and yet not too loose to let you drift back into unconsciousness. You just have the perfect moment to escape. For goodness sake, rain is the one thing you choose over anything else. The thing you like a lot.

But you're still here, dazed eyes flickering all over his face and it just gives him a second thought. A new idea to test your patience. Seeing you still pinned under him and unmoving, was not really in his list when he decided to walk back home and wake you up. He chortles with amusement. If you want what he thinks you do, he could give you that... "Come on sweetheart, what's stoppin' you?"

His fingers drift lower, exploring the bare flesh of your thigh, right where his mouth was hours ago. Still as warm as he remembers, maybe a little bruised too. "It's all rainy outside. Ain't that what you wanted?"

"I know..." You mumble, an undertone of need sewn in your voice as you look down over the sheets that cover every movement of his hand. It's too dark for you to see anything anyway. He could easily toss the covers aside, but it's wickedly satisfying this way. "I'm- um, just feeling a little under the influence...and it's- uh, it's distracting."

His hand caresses its way to where he knows you need it the most, and you barely repress a shudder when his fingertips glide over your folds. But he barely feels you, a ghost of a touch hovering there as a smirk threatens to flicker at the corner of his mouth.

"Wonder if my hand's makin' a good influence or a bad one. What d'you say, baby?"

It pelts down steadily outside, but you don't seem to care the slightest about it. Neither does Joel. A low gasp emanates from you when his touch becomes proper, rubbing circles and spreading the slick over your clit as slow and unrushed as he physically can manage. You're still indecently wet after he'd brought you over the edge again and again before you dozed off... and the fact that some of his cum might be gathering in his hand is fueling his lewd thoughts.

You naughty girl.

"A very bad one, I see." He tuts, feeling your chest heaving up and down beneath him. It's easy to rile you up this way. Desperation is written in your expression... and he hasn't even started yet.

"She needs fixin', doesn't she?" Joel asks, bringing his movement to a sudden halt. You're too distracted by everything he does to form a coherent thought. He lifts an expectant brow, now actually waiting for an answer.

"Yes- yes Joel... need it so bad... so bad it hurts." You breathe, a helpless pout forming on your lips.

"I know baby. I know... Jus' lay down and let me take care of it, hm? How's that sound?" He demands again, but this time he doesn't give you a chance to respond as he pushes two fingers past your weeping hole, burying them knuckles deep within your warmth. You gasp at the sudden intrusion, eyelids heavy as you grasp his arm, squirming like a helpless, needy girl.

What a cruel man he is.

"Not off to a good start, angel. I know you can be more patient."

You nod quickly, biting your lip in an attempt to stop yourself from wriggling and twisting on the bed. For a split second, Joel considers pulling out to nuzzle his face between your legs and let the heat consume him. A perfect place to brave the cold, restless seasons. 

But his fingers aren't shy either. He starts with slow thrusts, effortlessly sliding in and out before picking up the pace. He makes you adjust to his rhythm, and when you let go and open up, the obscene moans and chocked out cries are all that fill the silence of the house. Jesus, he lives to hear them every day. He rewards you by curling his fingertips to hit that spot that makes you see stars.

You shudder particularly hard at that, more arousal pooling inside you and soaking his fingers. You're losing your grip with reality, and he can sende it as your legs begin to shake and your knee brushes over the denim of his jeans, but you still remember to abide by his "No squirming" rule.

You're so pliant and obedient in his hands that it does nothing but to spur Joel to give you more. And so he does.

"I like these sounds," He adds a third finger, tilting his head to whisper in your ear. "I dream about them all the time."

You whimper and tighten your hold around Joel's arm. When he feels that your orgasm is creeping impossibly close, his thumb joins and rubs rapid circles over your bundle of nerves and that's your undoing. You clench around him, walls tightening and squeezing his fingers deeper – if that's even possible – as waves of white-hot euphoria crash over your worn out body and take over your senses. Your back arches involuntarily into him. A sound between a groan and a curse escapes his throat.

"That's it. Atta girl... that's it, so fuckin' beautiful."

His touch is unrelenting as he talks you through it with a string of sweet nothings. 

Only when you come down and rest back on the bed he slowly pulls out. You're panting heavily, face flushed and heated and so effortlessly seductive that Joel is sure no fucking artist could ever capture it in words of a poem or colors of a painting. Joel is the only one to witness this moment and it swells his chest with pride. He wants to drink it in, let it run through his veins like never-ending liquor.

He lifts his hand, smirking as you gape at the way it's glistening under the dim light. You're in awe. He softly places the tips between your swollen lips and you waste no time in swirling your tongue around them, licking the slick off as if it's a delightful lollipop. And the hazy look on your face says that it's more than just a sweet treat.

His own breathing hitches when you open your mouth a little wider and take him fully in, sucking and humming and driving him absolutely crazy. He shakes his head slightly, catching the playful gleam in your gaze.

"Hm. Still a very bad influence."

When you're fully recovered and satisfied, Joel lifts you up in his arms and walks towards the backyard, chuckling at your confused expression. You give a squeal and wrap your hands around his neck to keep yourself steady, at the same time trying to gauge what his next plan would be. You really have forgotten about the rain, haven't you?

He comes to a halt, making sure the blanket he'd just picked off the bed is not leaving any part of your body uncovered. The rainstorm has eased off considerably over the past hour, but he doesn't want to risk it. Keeping you warm and safe in the cold is and will always be his top priority, no matter if his back or knees protest from how much they ache. Hell, he aches for you and that content smile on your face. Nothing beats it.

"My girl still wants to go out, hm?"

Your eyes flicker between him and the half-open door, filled with excitement and delight and a tiny flicker of doubt. "Yes Joel... but...you sure you want to join in?"

"I don't know," He feigns innocence, pretending to think for a short while before his face lights up with an idea. "Do I get a kiss for it?"

You laugh and lean up to press your lips into his in a soft, lingering kiss. It's so tender and reassuring that he has to pull back before changing his mind and taking you back to the bed.

"Then it's settled."

It has been settled for a long time.

Maybe he can get used to it. Maybe you get a better idea of what you've made of him with your presence at times when he easily complies with things that make you happy. A heart made of ice, molten enough to experience the world with you all over again. Even if he gets soaked in the rain, he's alright with it. You kiss him and all the discomfort is forgotten.

He should give it time and learn to breathe again. Learn to stay, to settle. To let you know that you're all he sees.

Yeah, I don't want to hurt

There's so much in this world 

To make me bleed

Stay with me

Let's just breathe

Stay with me

You're all I see

The words are carved in his head. He chances a glance at the living room before walking past the door. Your guitar is placed on the couch. Maybe one day he'll bring himself to play his melodies for you too. He think that he's got a lot of time for it now. He wants an eternity with you, and in this wretched world, eternity lasts as long as you'll have him.

One, two... Ten droplets fall over him. He kisses you again, harder and longer. His ice-cold heart melts just a little more at your careless laughter. Just stay with me.

[roosterr]

hi! i was wondering if i could request your thoughts/drabble on how the 141 would react if a mission went awful and you were left in the hospital with amnesia! like the reader wakes up and has no memory of her team🥲

if you aren’t taking requests atm or this doesn’t fit with your writing, i completely understand and you can ignore this! just wanted to say i binged your masterlist and absolutely love all your writings! keep up the amazing content <3

the 141 when you have amnesia

note: AAA TYSM FOR REQUESTING THIS!!!! and ty for reading my stuff, it means a lot!! i had so much fun writing this it's unbelievable, this concept is just so JUICY,,, i really hope you like it!! <3

wc: 2.8k

warnings: established relationship, angst sadness and depression wow i did not mean for this to get so sad

ao3

[part two]

price

✹ he would undoubtedly blame himself for what happened to you. as your captain, it was his job to keep you safe and make sure you came home in one piece, and he'd failed you there.

✹ weeks and weeks go by as he waits endlessly for you to wake up, and with every day that ends with you still unconscious, he feels his resolve slipping just a little bit more.

✹ he holds himself together as well as he can, keeping his head high and projecting confidence that you'd be okay, if only to keep the team's spirit up. they still needed their captain, and he'd be damned if he failed them too.

✹ behind closed doors, however, he's a mess.

✹ john drinks, a lot, so much that it’s irresponsible, but the image of you, beaten and bloody and barely breathing haunts him every time he closes his eyes. he locks himself in his office, away from the others and ignores their concerned calls through the door.

✹ he visits you, only when it's late and there's no one else around to hear him whisper apologies to you with a lump in his throat. he confesses to you like a sinner, all the things he wishes he'd done differently, how he'd put himself in your place in a heartbeat if it meant you'd be okay.

✹ other than those nights, he does his best to stay away from the infirmary. it’s selfish, but he can’t bear to see you in such a fragile state.

✹ he’s in his office when you wake up.

✹ the nurse finds him on his second drink of the night, and no sooner than the news leaves her mouth he's pushing past her and rushing to the infirmary. he bursts through the door, startling you and the other nurse with you.

✹ "hey, sweetheart." he’s by your side in an instant, taking one of your hands in both of his as he gazes lovingly into your eyes. it feels like it's been an age since you've looked at him, the sight of your eyes alone almost has the dam behind his own breaking.

✹ you’re staring back at him with a somewhat lost expression, but john’s so relieved that you’re here, that you're back, it slips his notice.

✹ he leans over to press a kiss to your forehead, like he's done hundreds of times before, but you stop him by placing your other hand on his chest. he pulls back with a concerned frown, finally noticing the unsure look you're wearing.

✹ the nurse briefly explains that some memory loss is common for the amount of head trauma you sustained. he should've expected something like this, in fact it's a miracle you made it out with just memory loss.

✹ "i'm sorry, can you tell me who you are?" you ask meekly, looking back at him with an apologetic look in your eye. you look guilty, like it's your fault this happened and not because of his own shortcomings.

✹ john's heart sinks at your words, but he's careful not to show it. amnesia can be temporary, he knows that, he just has to jog your memory.

✹ "i'm john," he smiles as warmly as he can through the panic in his chest, lifting his left hand to show you the wedding band on his finger, "your husband."

✹ your jaw falls open, your eyes wide as you look between the ring, his face, and the nurse behind him, who simply nods in confirmation of the captain's words.

✹ "you're…" you mutter, disbelief taking over your voice, "my husband?"

✹ you take his left hand in yours, bringing it closer to your face and examining the wedding band, a tiny smile pulling at one corner of your lips.

✹ "yes, love," his chest rumbles with a chuckle, grasping your left hand and showing you the matching band on your own finger, "we're married."

✹ "seriously?" you ask, comparing the rings on your fingers and looking back up to him with an almost comically surprised face. john nods again, his moustache tilted with an amused smile.

✹ "been together for nearly seven years."

✹ "how the hell did i convince you to marry me?" you mutter. at that, he lets out a real laugh, bringing your hand up to his lips and pressing a kiss to your knuckles.

✹ "think i should be the one askin' that question."

gaz

✹ kyle takes it harder than anyone.

✹ he visited you once, at the first opportunity when you were stable enough to not require constant observation, but the sight ruins him. you looked so weak, nothing like how you should; your cheeks were sunken and your skin has a sickly sheen to it, and there was nothing he could do to help you.

✹ he couldn't stand it.

✹ he becomes so easily irritated, a hair trigger just waiting to snap. the others want to help him, but he won't let them get close enough to try. any mention of your name has him shutting down, leaving faster than they can finish their sentence.

✹ he barely sleeps, spending most nights curled up in your bed with his tears soaking your pillow. he surrounds himself with your clothes, things that smell like you, but your scent eventually fades and he just feels so alone without you.

✹ price finds him like that one night, sitting on the floor with his back leaning against your bed after throwing up from crying so hard. he hauls kyle up by the collar of his shirt, and forces him to meet his stern eyes through the tears.

✹ "pull yourself together, garrick! they need you to be strong for them, how d'you think they're gonna feel when they wake up and see you like this?"

✹ after that it's like the spell is broken, and he realises just how pathetic he's been acting. in the weeks you've been out, he's only visited you – his partner – once. you'd never forgive him if you knew.

✹ from that night onwards, he visits you at least once a day, filling multiple vases around your bed with beautiful flowers and making sure they never wilt.

✹ he got 'get well soon' cards for you too, having each of your teammates, and even kate, sign one to decorate your room.

✹ you wake up surrounded by life and colour, physical evidence of how much he loves you that puts a smile on your exhausted face, even if you don't know who left them.

✹ he's off base when you wake up, picking up a fresh bouquet for your room. his phone rings as he's leaving the florists, and as soon as he hears the nurse's voice he's sprinting back to his car, throwing the flowers onto the passenger seat and racing back to base.

✹ he bursts through the infirmary doors to see you standing with the help of the nurse, your legs wobbly but your face determined. he almost breaks down in the doorway.

✹ when you look up and meet his eyes, he feels his heart stutter in his chest. he rushes towards you, the new bouquet slipping from his fingers, and almost knocks you off your feet with the how hard he embraces you.

✹ you let out a small 'oomph' as he squeezes you, hesitantly wrapping your own arms around his torso. he sniffles into your shoulder, a few tears wetting your shirt despite his attempts to hold them back.

✹ "hey, uhm…" your voice reaches his ears, hoarse with disuse, "are you okay? what's your name?"

✹ "what?" kyle lifts his head, pulling back to mirror your confused gaze. "babe, what're you on about?"

✹ the nurse pulls him aside, leaving you sitting on the edge of your bed as she explains your amnesia to him.

✹ you really didn't remember him. his heart withers in his chest, the pain of losing you all over again spreading to the ends of every limb.

✹ "no, no no no–" he mumbles, stumbling back over to where you sit and cupping your worried face so gently, like you'd break if he was too rough. "please, love, you have to remember"

✹ you cover his hands with your own, a few tears falling from your eyes and rolling hot against kyle's palms. "i'm sorry, i want to remember, but…"

✹ "please, i love you…"

soap

✹ johnny spends every free moment at your bedside.

✹ he talks to you, tells you stories about everything that's happened since you've been asleep; the time ghost burnt dinner and set the fire alarms off, a robin that landed on the windowsill of your shared room, anything that comes to mind.

✹ sometimes he plays your favourite songs, sitting on the end of your bed softly humming along, praying that you'll hear it and come back to him.

✹ most often though, he draws you. he fills page after page of his sketchbook with sketches of you; the peaceful look on your face as you lay next to him, memories from before the accident, the two of you together – though he always puts infinitely more detail into you than himself.

✹ similarly to the captain, johnny stays positive about your condition, refusing to even entertain the idea of you not waking up. he's optimistic, and so good at hiding the anguish of being without you that even ghost is fooled by his facade.

✹ he won't let the others worry about him. you're the one in the hospital, you're the one that deserves their sympathies, he has to stay positive for everyone so they don't worry, so you have something familiar to come back to when you wake up–

✹ in reality, he's living in denial. he's on the verge of a steep mental nosedive, and if he looks past his delusions for even a second, he's afraid he'll spiral into a pit he won't be able to claw his way back out of.

✹ so he continues to live like that. he has one-sided conversations with you, going on for hours as if you're talking back to him. he brings you your favourite meal when the mess hall makes it, putting it on your bedside table so you can reach it and clearing it up the next day when he comes back.

✹ when you eventually, finally wake up, he's already there with you.

✹ it was late, and against the nurse's wishes he'd climbed into your hospital bed with you, an arm around your shoulder holding you close his chest while his other hand doodles away in his sketchbook.

✹ you let out a small sound and shift against him, and his heart skips a beat under your ear at the realiseation that you're back.

✹ any lingering tiredness immediately disappears from his mind, as he throws his sketchbook carelessly onto the side table and wastes no time in gathering you up into his arms and bringing you into a crushing hug.

✹ a groggy, surprised noise leaves you, the sound of your voice lighting up johnny's face with a smile so wide it aches. he loosens his hold just enough to hold the side of your head with one hand, gazing into your eyes like you were the only person in the world.

✹ "there y'are, bonnie, i missed you so much,"

✹ he presses his lips to the top of your head, his eyes glassing and his heart full with how relieved he is that you're awake.

✹ "...what's going on?" you mutter, your eyes darting all over his face and to the room around you with a confused furrow in your brow.

✹ "lemme call the nurse," he replies with an easy, comforting smile, reaching somewhere behind him for the call button.

✹ while you wait for the nurse, he helps you sit up, adjusting the pillows behind your back so you can sit comfortably, all the while rambling about everything and nothing all at once.

✹ "you should've seen gaz's face, darl, it was priceless–"

✹ "i'm sorry, i… i dont remember you…"

✹ nothing has ever shut him up quite as effectively as those words.

✹ "wh… what? stop messin' about, bonnie," he chuckles, desperately searching your eyes for the humour that was missing. when you only shake your head in response, the smile fades from his face and quickly morphs into concern.

✹ "sergeant mactavish, how many times do i have to tell you to get off the bed!" the nurse exclaims as she enters the room. he doesn't get down though, just fixes her with the most intense look he's ever worn.

✹ "why don't they remember me?"

✹ the nurse explains that an injury like yours was bound to cause some lasting damage, but amnesia was more often than not temporary.

✹ "i'm sorry, i wish i could remember you…" you mutter, dropping your gaze to your lap as he turns back to you.

✹ johnny exhales deeply, finding a great sense of comfort that you'll most likely get your memory back. he gently tilts your chin up again so he can stare deep into your eyes.

✹ "don't apologise, that just means i get to woo you all over again, bonnie."

ghost

✹ simon would be destroyed.

✹ while you're knocked out its like he forgets how to be human. he eats, sleeps, and breathes on autopilot – like a robot with a function, no feeling, just keeping himself alive until you wake up.

✹ it worries the others, price especially, but the walls around his heart are expertly crafted, and without you by his side he sees no purpose in lowering them.

✹ when you do wake up, the first thing you see is him, sitting at your bedside with his hand enclosed around yours. his eyes are closed, but he's still very much awake, in fact he finds himself unable to rest anywhere but in the chair by your side.

✹ the way you try to pull your hand from his brings him back to the present and alerts him to your consciousness. his eyes snap open in less than a second, already glassy with the pure relief he feels now you're back.

✹ but you're looking at him differently. where there would once be soft affection, now he can only see confusion, and worst of all, panic.

✹ and there's fear in how your shoulders bunch up, but simon tries his best to ignore that thought.

✹ "hey, you're alright, darlin'," he coos, as gentle as he can manage, pushing the rising dread to the back of his mind.

✹ he presses the button to call the nurse, letting go of your trembling hand bringing it up to your shoulder. your worried gaze flicks to his arm and back to his face, which makes him pause in his tracks.

✹ "who… who are you?"

✹ simon's waited so long to hear your voice again, but hearing those four words from you shatters his heart into pieces.

✹ no.

✹ you didn't forget him. there was no way.

✹ "it's…" he swallows hard, blinking rapidly to hold back the tears threatening to fall. "it's me, love, it's simon."

✹ you're still looking at him with that same anxious expression, and he curses himself when he realises he's still wearing his balaclava. he practically rips it from his head, dropping it to the floor without a care for where it fell.

✹ your eyes study his bare face, tracing over every crease and scar, the mess of hair on top of his head, and finally landing on his desperate eyes.

✹ "i'm sorry, i…" you look guilty, the subtle shake of your head hurting simon like a knife to the chest. "...do i know you?"

✹ the silence that follows your words is unbearable.

✹ you really did forget him.

✹ all the time you'd spent together, the memories you shared, the love you had; it was all gone, just like that.

✹ suddenly he felt like the walls were closing in on him, he couldn't get enough air and his skin was crawling with the need to escape.

✹ at that moment, the nurse comes through the doors, startling simon into standing from the chair and stumbling backwards. he never takes his eyes off of your guilt-ridden face. you didn't know him, not anymore, and that meant he was all alone again, with no one to care for him and call home.

✹ the emptiness in his chest was enough to make him want to rip the hair from his scalp.

✹ the nurse says something, stealing your attention from him with words he's too overwhelmed to listen to. he takes the opportunity to back away, disappearing through the doors with a hand covering his mouth, fighting the urge to throw up.

✹ it was a miracle to two of you got together in the first place – simon didn't know if he could get you to love him again.

[hongism]

what lies beneath us. - c. san (m)

➼ genre; fluff, smut, slight angst for the first half but i make it better quickly promise ➼ pairing; san x afab!reader ➼ au; established relationship, college au ➼ warnings; explicit smut ➼ rating; m/18+ ➼ wc; 6.4k

one busy semester is all it took for you and san to find yourselves struggling to find footing in the storm that is your relationship, yet rather than let go, he asked for one more week, one more day, one last chance to help get you back to shore

part of the ...and it's snowing collab.

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➼ smut warnings; unprotected sex, oral: m, vaginal fingering, praise, body worship, service-top san, san has some slightly submissive tendencies, coming inside

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You normally wouldn’t find yourself in Wooyoung’s apartment on a Tuesday morning, sitting at the bar counter beside his roommate with two mugs of coffee sitting on the granite between you, but you also haven’t had any leisure time to waste lately. It’s a miracle that Wooyoung is even up before ten o’clock, though that might be in part due to you pleading desperately over the phone to come over.

“Oh, you make her coffee but not me? The fuck is up with that, Hwa?” Speak of the devil, Wooyoung comes into the kitchen still rubbing sleep from his eyes.

“She’s a guest, you live here. And I had to wake you up because you slept through three alarms so my sympathy levels are close to zero right now.” Seonghwa flashes a faux shrug despite the heated glare he’s sent. Wooyoung lets out a huff but lets it go in favor of redirecting his attention to you.

“Right, well, what did you need to talk about so badly that it couldn’t wait until the afternoon?”

“San is coming over tonight, I couldn't do the afternoon,” you mumble.

“Is it about him then? Did something—” he waves a hand through the air like that’ll explain his thoughts, and when confusion shows on both your face and Seonghwa’s, he gives up “—did something happen between you guys?”

“It feels a bit awkward,” you admit over the rim of your coffee mug. Wooyoung scoffs at that, but Seonghwa is far more forgiving than your best friend in that he sends you a sympathetic grin. 

“Awkward?” he prompts, toying with his own drink. Wooyoung pushes away from the counter and turns to the coffee maker.

“I don't know. Yeah, awkward, a bit. I guess. Like we don't know what we're doing or how to be in a relationship anymore.”

The brutal semester you both just suffered has been the main factor in the wedge in your relationship. Weekends full of studying, ones that you spent together at the start of the semester when he would come to your place or vice versa so that you could be together even while working. Then, San started picking up more shifts at his part-time job, and you had to redirect your focus to a particularly important internship that required you to forgo those weekends in the blink of an eye. You did have two weekends free of school and work, but San had to rush home during one of those on account of his mother falling ill. The other one was shot by you falling ill with the worst cold you’ve known in all your years of living. San came by that Friday with your favorite chicken and beer, but you couldn’t bring yourself to risk getting him sick when you knew how important the semester was to him too. It didn’t keep him from coming by again Saturday and Sunday both, soup was delivered to your front door along with voice messages wishing you well throughout the night. Even your text conversations were fizzling into oblivion by the time finals rolled around, which only served to amplify your feelings of dread. 

“Has he been acting differently?” Wooyoung tunes back into the conversation, this time more serious with his tone. “Like, he's pulling away or something?” Wooyoung stands on a different footing in this conversation and knows things Seonghwa doesn't in terms of your relationship with San. He's been there for you since well before you started dating San, and you're certain that he'll be there for you if it were to end tomorrow, the next day, or years down the line. 

“It's gonna sound so childish and stupid but he hasn't been calling me nicknames since the semester ended.” You tuck your hands into your lap and shrink into yourself a little, feeling the hot burn of shame well up inside.

“That's not stupid at all, y/n,” Seonghwa reassures barely a second after you finish your train of thought. “That's not.”

“He's right. That's totally unlike San.”

“Not! Helping!”

“I'm just being honest?!”

“Look, y/n, I don't want you to start having doom thoughts or thinking the worst — that doesn't mean his feelings for you have changed.” You’re starting to think that you should’ve asked Seonghwa for advice from the start instead of Wooyoung. “Maybe he's feeling that awkwardness you are too, or maybe he's feeling insecure. The only way to know is to ask. Have an open and honest conversation about it.”

“But…” You glance past Seonghwa to look at Wooyoung's back. Without even needing to look back, he seems to feel the weight of your stare.

“You're scared that if you bring it up, the worst will happen and y'all will break up.”

“We've been dating for so long that I don't know what I would do if that happened. I don't know how to be single, no offense to either of you, but it's just that we've been together for so long now. I wouldn't know what to do with myself if it ended.”

“If…” Wooyoung bites his words back as though he's unsure of how they will come out. “I don't want this to sound harsh, but if all it takes for him to lose his feelings for you is one busy semester, then that's not someone I would want you to have a future with. I know it's not up to me and it's not my business, but I want you to value yourself more than you value your relationship with San.”

“I truly don't think he's lost his feelings for you, y/n,” Seonghwa cuts in again, hand darting out across the counter in your direction. “Woo is right; you should value yourself more than the relationship you're in, but that doesn't mean you can only have one of those things. They can coexist.”

“What if I’m fighting for something he doesn’t want any longer?” you inquire softly and under your breath.

“The spark isn’t gone, y/n, I’m certain of that much. Maybe you just… need to find a way to reignite it!” The coffee maker dings loudly behind Wooyoung. And like it’s turning on a lightbulb in Wooyoung’s head, his expression turns suddenly bright. “Why not do just that? It’s been half a decade, to be fair, so really you can’t be blamed if things feel a little stale. If you went and did things that made you fall for each other in the first place, wouldn’t that help a bit?”

“I hate to say it…”

“You always say that when I’m right!”

“Ignoring him, that does sound like a good plan, y/n.”

Despite the reassurance from both your best friend and someone you consider to be far more mature and wiser, it doesn’t fully quell the concerns settling in your gut.

It’s only been six days since you last saw San, though you would argue that it feels a lot more like six months given how absent you both have been from each other’s lives of late. While that isn’t particularly your fault or his wholly — it’s definitely a joint effort that’s kept you apart — it does make your skin itch with anxiety every time you think about seeing him again.

It’s all culminated into this moment right now, where you sit on the edge of your couch waiting for the doorbell to ring and announce his arrival. You want to see him, desperately so, you’ve missed him so incredibly much that you can hardly stand it. And yet — you’re rooted to the cushions riddled by anxieties. You tried to rid yourself of the lingering stress after leaving Wooyoung’s apartment by doing chores properly for the first time in months, going so far as to run to the grocery and restock some necessities as well. You hate to be the type of partner who cannot do anything alone without associating it with your partner, but San was on your mind throughout the day.

Will he feel the same as you even though the flame keeping your relationship alive has been inching closer and closer to nothingness? The two of you don’t fight, in fact, your friends like to say that things go a little too smoothly between you two, and while that’s true, they aren’t aware of what it looks like when you and San aren’t getting along. It looks the way this semester has, slow conversations that lead nowhere and less time spent in each other’s presence. You aren’t fighting right now, but you certainly aren’t all sunshine and rainbows. The weather mirrors your emotions — dim greys shrouded by white flurries of snow that have been falling since early afternoon.

You clench your fingers around the seam of the couch cushion. No part of you wants to play the part of the overbearing partner: if you’re too eager to see him, wouldn’t he find it off-putting? 

The doorbell rings.

It takes a moment for you to brace yourself for impact, standing and walking over to the door as slowly as you can manage without it seeming like a deliberate delay. The second you open the door, however, your worries melt away for a moment. 

San smiles so brightly like you’ve not gone a second without reveling in each other’s presence. The weather is clinging to his coat still even though he had to climb three flights of stairs to reach your door. The little snowflakes are beginning to melt into the fabric.

“May I come in?” The facade cracks a bit. It’s not like him to ask such things, but you choose not to hold it against him now.

“Yeah, yeah, I finally had time to clean the other day so everything’s — nice.” 

If your smile is strained, he says nothing about it, stepping over the threshold and into your apartment like it’s the first time he’s ever done so. He’s polite all the time, but now it makes those seeds of doubt sprout further because you’ve been together for five years now, what reason does he have to act like a stranger in your home? A home he’s been in time and time again, one he’s slept in, fucked you— 

“Do you want ramen or pizza?” You force the thoughts to come to a halt before your expression turns bitter.

“Let’s do ramen, I’ll cut up the vegetables for you.”

There’s an elephant in the room that it seems neither of you wants to address, and so you keep your mouth shut just the same as San with the thought of “maybe this awkwardness will pass after tonight”. You watch him remove his coat and hang it up on the door while still picking at your nails. He extends a hand to you, one you take eagerly, and you lace your fingers through the gaps between his. A bit like a well-oiled machine, you think, something that Wooyoung had noted about the two of you as far back as freshman year of college. San presses his lips to the top of your head. You lean into the touch ever so slightly. 

You share in a quiet synergy that carries you through the motions of preparing food, with no conversation exchanged aside from a “watch for the knife” and “careful, behind you” on occasion. You’re still trying to psyche yourself up to bring up what’s truly on your mind, so you aren’t sure that you’d be able to get any conversation out without it spiraling into insanity right off the bat. For the moment, for now, you want to simply drink in San’s presence. 

He hums as he opens a cabinet in search of bowls, but they aren’t there. 

“Oh, I—I moved the bowls to the other side.” Three months ago, your mind adds. It would do nothing but add salt to a blossoming wound. San stops dead in his tracks too. He seems to suffer the same crisis that you do right then. After a few seconds of mental buffering, he resumes his humming and shifts to the adjacent cabinet like the moment didn’t happen at all. 

You sit beside each other at the bar counter, atop the uncomfortable stools you’ve had for well over two years now, but it offers a weird comfort because it’s familiar, it’s something San knows, it’s something you share and have shared for years. 

“Thanks for the meal,” San says, still wearing a bitten-back smile. 

“Of course. Thank you for helping.” But the detrimental reality of not speaking to someone properly for a long while is that part of you forgets how to make conversation with them. There is nothing for you and San to “catch up on” seeing as you’ve been keeping each other updated on your lives through dry text conversations. “Um…” He’s eyeing you carefully now, and you could pass off the watering in your eyes as the spice of the food, but he would call your bluff in an instant. The funny thing about doubt is that once it’s taken root, it’ll keep growing back no matter how many times you chop at the stem.

“What’s wrong, y/n?”

“It’s just — I don’t — are we breaking up?”

San freezes halfway over his ramen, chopsticks nearly falling from his fingers as he rushes to put his noodles back down. Your shoulders start shaking before you can stop it. He doesn’t stop you from turning away from him, but San has always been endlessly patient and gentle with you so you don’t expect him to ask you to look at him anyway. He does rest a hand atop your forearm though, and his thumb drags small, comforting circles over your skin. 

“Talk to me, y/n, what do you mean by that? Why would we be breaking up?” The words themselves sound calm. There’s a slight quiver to his tone, however, that makes you want to crawl inside yourself and disappear. “A-Are you wanting that?” Your continued lack of response makes San more urgent than ever, and he shifts his hand to your leg, spinning you to face him. You can’t be certain of the expression on your face (though you’d wager there is some degree of hurt); whatever San sees makes him let out a distressed noise from the back of his throat. “Come here, duck, talk to me.”

Standing on somewhat shaky legs, you push yourself closer to San, and he instinctually moves his knees apart to let you tuck yourself into the space there.

“Don’t cry, baby, I’m here, you can talk to me,” he murmurs, hands cupping your face in his hands. You reach down to cling to his shirt like it’s a lifeline. 

“That’s the first time you’ve called me that in weeks. This is the first time we’ve spent time together in six days. We’ve barely spoken or spent time together all semester, and I know why — I know we agreed that school and work have to come first. I know that.” Your voice drops to a whisper as you lose the confidence to speak. “I didn’t think it would mean losing you though.”

“You haven’t lost me, y/n. I’m still here, with you, loving you just as much as ever.” San smiles a little as you push your cheek further into his palm. “My feelings have not changed. I thought about you every day, wondered how you were doing, and if you responded to my texts late, I hoped you were eating well and getting enough rest. I listened to your voice memos rooting for me every night. Your face was always the first thing I saw in the morning because I still keep that slideshow of you as my lockscreen.” Reaching around to the back of your neck, he gives you a little tug, and your foreheads bump together. “The thought of you helped get me through the semester because I knew that it was you who was waiting for me at the end of the tunnel.”

“Sannie…”

“How long have you been worried over this, baby? You should’ve come to me the moment you started having doubts. I wouldn’t have let this go on if I had known.”

“I thought I felt you pulling away so I was scared to bring it up. You weren’t calling me nicknames anymore, and I started reading into it too much and freaked myself out.”

“I’m so sorry, y/n. Don’t put the blame on yourself, it’s not a crime to have anxieties. I didn’t even realize I stopped using them. I suppose I just got swept up in my own feelings and wanted to call you by your name as much as possible.” He nudges you with his head again. “Because I missed you so dearly.” Your lips turn up at the corners, a gesture that doesn’t go unnoticed by your boyfriend. “And because I adore you so so much, my y/n.”

“Stop that.” You hope he doesn’t, truly.

“But I’m so mushy and full of love for you, y/n.”

“You’re gonna make me blush.”

“Oh, I can think of other ways to do that, baby.” San stands, subsequently pushing his body into yours, but your hands are still on each other, his moving down to caress the back of your thigh before he hooks his fingers around the bend of your knee and hoists your leg up over his hip. “I haven’t been good to you, my sweet,” he murmurs close to your lips. “What kind of boyfriend am I if I let you feel unwanted?” Your heart skips a beat as he grips tight at your other leg, then you’re suddenly weightless for a second as he hoists you up to his waist.

“We just ate—”

“I don’t plan on letting that stop me.” You let out a gasp as San traces the line of your jaw with his lips, hot breath spilling across your skin as he carries you from the kitchen. “Unless you want it to?” This damned man knows what he’s doing, he knows the hold he has over you — your brain is already turning into a foggy mess of want, and even the prospect of waiting two minutes for him to lay his hands on you is too much to bear. Your nails drag across his shoulders, tugging at the thin material. He misses the doorknob to your bedroom thanks to your antics, sending you against the wood a little harshly and forcing the air out of your lungs. “Sorry, sorry.”

“Still on the pill.”

“Hm?” he echoes, managing to turn it right on the second try and popping it open properly.

“I’m still on the pill,” you repeat. San freezes in place to stare at your face. You bring a hand around to toy at his parted lips with your thumb. “So you can fuck me raw.”

San becomes so dumbstruck that his jaw moves up and down over and over without any semblance of noise coming out.

“Fuck, you’re gonna make me come in my pants like a horny teenager,” he says under his breath. You drop your head back and laugh. San’s hold on you feels so blissfully warm. You didn’t even have time for this during the semester, sometimes thanks to your workloads but more often thanks to sheer exhaustion. A few solo jaunts before bed are hardly enough to please you the way San does. Based on how tightly he’s gripping your ass, he seems to feel exactly the same.

“It wouldn’t be the first time.”

He manages to get you both to the bed without further incident, laying you down on the mattress with a sort of reverence that makes your chest swell with emotion. Even through the barrier of clothing, his fingers are hot and sear a path from your hips up your waist then right back down again as San wastes no time in stripping you of your pants. 

“I missed you so fucking much it’s insane.” You want to respond, but the sight of your lover dropping to his knees at the foot of the bed stops you in your tracks. All you can do is lie there and watch him tug your pants off, lips moving to kiss each bit of exposed skin along the way. Goosebumps rise across your body when he kisses his way up higher. His broad frame cages you in the closer he gets to your face, and despite his hands being on the somewhat small side, they feel all-encompassing when they’re sneaking under your shirt and exploring the skin beneath.

“I missed you more,” you murmur, catching his chin between your fingers and angling his face upwards so you can properly look at him. “I love you so so much, San. More than I can put into words.”

“Yeah?” You make no effort to pull him higher although he moves as though you do and climbs all the way up to be right over your face. He hums before dipping down to kiss the corner of your mouth. “I think I’ve missed you more still though—” another kiss, this time to the opposite side of your mouth “—but you’re welcome to challenge me on that.”

“San,” you whine. He pulls back and sits back on his knees. Your brain goes totally blank watching him take his shirt off. It’s something you’ve seen time and time again, truly nothing new or foreign to you, but something about it now makes your gut twist in on itself. He’s lost a bit of the muscle you’ve grown accustomed to seeing on him, now softer around the edges, at the waist and across his stomach. It doesn’t curb your desire for him in the slightest; if anything it makes you want him more, to cling to him tighter and feel him firmer against you.

He throws the shirt down to the floor and drags a hand through his dark hair. His legs are splayed around yours, putting the prominent bulge in his pants on full display before you.

“I want you to use me, y/n.” He grabs your hand from where it’s resting against the bed and brings it to his chest. You dig your nail into his flesh like it’s second nature to do so. “Tonight, for your pleasure.” His eyes trail after your every moment, watching as you sit up and pull your legs out from under him. You graze the underside of his dick ever so slightly yet it’s still enough to make his lashes flutter. 

“Then…” San is like putty in your hands, conforming to every move you make while still maintaining that unbreaking eye contact. He turns with you, and you climb off the bed to stand despite feeling seconds away from toppling over. All it takes is the slightest push against his chest for him to lie flat on his back. “Will you be good for me?” 

His response comes in the form of a bitten-back whine thanks to you cupping the bulge of his cock as you withdraw your hand. It’s intoxicating to strip him of his jeans and feel every inch of his pretty tapered waist. You urge him to move further up on the bed, making room for you between his legs once you’ve tossed his pants down beside yours on the floor. The tip of his cock peeks out the top of his underwear, already stiff and leaking precum onto the elastic band. Saucy nudes here and there don’t do him nearly enough justice, you think. You tease just the bit of him that's exposed with your tongue, licking at the sensitive and swollen head, and he twitches beneath the fabric. Humming to yourself, you inch his underwear down just far enough to put his whole member on display, along with his balls, but you don’t go any further than that. It’s enough for you to get your mouth around him, after all, and that’s exactly what you do without giving San any time to brace himself for the touch.

He lets out a desperate moan the moment your wet heat envelopes his length, fingers curling into his palms around the comforter. His hips twitch with the desire to thrust upwards, but he keeps himself firmly planted on the bed, fulfilling his end of the bargain for you and being so delightfully good. The weight of him on your tongue isn’t nearly enough; you want him buried deep inside you as soon as possible, and you’d go on and do it now if you didn’t think it would hurt like a bitch given how long it’s been since you’ve taken him. San isn’t distracted enough to miss the way you retract a hand to touch yourself, and he fights to speak through broken moans.

“I w-wanna touch you, pretty.” You lift yourself off his cock until just the tip sits on your lower lip.

“I’ll let you later when I ask you to fold me in half and fuck me into the mattress.” You sink two fingers into your hole, taking San back into your mouth to revel in that full feeling again. You’re just as needy as he is, in reality, because your walls are already coated with arousal and it pools around the base of your fingers in such a way that it makes your cheeks flush. San’s noises aren’t helping in the slightest — for as quiet as he is in day-to-day life, he is ever so vocal when it comes to sex, especially when his cock is buried in your mouth. He’s just long enough to push right into the back of your throat, making it far easier for you to take him fully. 

“Your mouth feels so — fuck, fucking good, baby.” If you weren’t preoccupied, you would love to return his words with your own, so you settle for tugging at his balls a little. It earns you a delightful little yelp, and his hips buck up to drive his dick further into your throat than expected. “Hngh, I’m sorry, I’m sorry.”

“I want—” you don’t finish your train of thought, too rushed to bother with it as you scramble to rid yourself of your underwear. San greets you with his hands when you climb back onto the bed and grabs hold of your waist. He tugs and pulls at your shirt until it’s gone too, leaving you with nothing more than your plain black bra. However, even that San seems to find issue with, because he toys with the clasp until it comes loose and throws that aside too.

“Beautiful,” he murmurs, settling back against the mattress. He’s always told you this is his favorite position, to see you straddling his hips and bouncing on his cock, though he favors missionary quite a bit as well because it lets him see your body and face while he’s fucking you (despite how much he loves your ass). His cock is trapped between your pussy and his stomach now, hard and throbbing for the same kind of stimulation you so desperately crave. You drag your folds along his length a few times just to tease San, but he grips your hip in warning. In hindsight, you should have let him finger you open more before because the stretch is far more than you remember — not enough to hurt, but enough for you to really feel every inch of him entering your body. It makes you writhe atop him, your spine arches, and you drop your head back. San holds you like you're a precious gem, thick arms circling around your waist as you rest your hands on his chest. The position gives you some much-needed stability, but San's fingers have begun to get severely distracting. He rolls his thumbs into your skin, pausing only to squeeze and pinch at the more sensitive parts of your sides. 

“I’m gonna start moving,” you whisper like being too loud will break some sort of seal. San nods and unwraps his arms enough to simply hold your hips. Despite the decrease in definition of his muscles, his strength doesn’t seem to have gone anywhere, because he lifts you with such ease that it’s a bit dizzying. Still, he lets the control rest in your hands. You sink down slowly on his cock, letting your walls get used to the drag, before doing the same motion two, three more times. The first whimper to fall from your lips is what snaps your resolve. San’s hold on you remains firm but only to ease the strain on your thighs as you begin to pick up your pace. 

“Beautiful, beautiful, you’re so beautiful, my sweet.” San rolls his hips up in time with your movements, driving his cock up into your cunt as you drop yourself onto him, and it reaches so deep inside you that you see stars behind your eyelids. “Missed you so much, missed this, seeing your body through photos wasn’t enough — fuck, it wasn’t enough.”

“How many, ah, times did you come to those photos, hm?” You crack one eye open to watch San’s face. He’s already flushed with want, but the red in his cheeks deepens more upon hearing your question. You lean your weight further into your hands. “I fingered myself so many times thinking of you, Sannie. B-But, hngh, it wasn’t good enough. Not as good as your cock. Nothing… n-nothing feels as good!”

San thrusts up with more vigor now, all but taking over for you to go slack above him as he drives your hips down with his hands and pushes his length into you from the opposite direction. Then, suddenly, his movements falter and stutter to a halt, and he looks just as shocked as you are when his cock twitches against your walls. A blooming of warmth fills you right after, along with the realization that San has just come inside you without warning.

“I-I’m sorry, I — I didn’t mean to, ah, I thought I would last longer.” He slings an arm up over his eyes, and the red in his face deepens in hue. “I’m sorry, I should’ve let you come first.” You click your tongue against the roof of your mouth. Leaning down over him, you peel his arm away from his face so that you can see his shamed expression better.

“Your dick is far from the only thing that can make me come, babe. Right?” 

He nods a few times, but there’s still a pout on his lips. You kiss it away. 

“Then—” you detach yourself from his body, bringing about an unwelcome emptiness as his spent cock slips out of you, and roll onto your back beside him. He watches with rapt attention as you spread your legs and open your pussy to him. “Why don’t you?”

San moves with surprising haste for a man who has just come, rolling into the space between your legs, and while you expected him to just use his fingers to get you off, he hooks his hands around your thighs and shoves his face into your used cunt instead. It yanks a startled moan out of you, and it’s only amplified when he closes his lips around your clit. He’s lucky you don’t give him a concussion with how quickly you slam your thighs around his head. You don’t notice that he’s moved a hand until fingers are prodding at your leaking entrance and urging the come he just pumped into you back into your hole.

“O-Oh, San.” 

Normally, he takes his sweet time eating you out, bringing you to the precipice of orgasm before sending you right back down time and time again without release. Though, either out of lingering shame at coming early or simply out of a desire to make you unravel, San laps at your clit so eagerly that it sends shudders through you. You can feel your blood rushing lower as he urges you to come, walls clenching around his fingers. It only takes another second more for the first wave to hit you, and it makes you scramble to grab hold of San’s hair as he keeps curling his fingers over your sweet spot. He does so throughout each wave of your orgasm until tears burn the corners of your eyes and you’re all but pleading for him to grant you some mercy.

“You — you had nothing to prove, you know,” you say between desperate attempts to catch your breath. San giggles and looks up at you from his lewd position. “Ugh!” You shove his head away from you half-heartedly just to spare yourself more embarrassment.

“Oh, come on, don’t be like that, duck!”

You only go as far as the pillows, turning back to him immediately and opening your arms to welcome him into them. 

“I came too early, of course I had something to prove,” he adds once he’s snugly placed against your chest. You slot together like two pieces of a puzzle, his head under your chin and your breath stirring the messy strands of hair in your path. “I’ve fallen out of practice. When was the last time I did that? It’s embarrassing…”

You can’t contain your laughter.

“You always come a little early when I ride you.”

“That’s not fair!”

All you can do to soothe him is pat his head. You feel a tad sticky and gross all over, but San’s warmth more than makes up for it, and if you’re not careful, you’re certain you’ll fall asleep within minutes. A small sniffle coming from the man atop you chases thoughts of rest away in the blink of an eye though.

“San?”

“’m okay, promise.”

“You’re crying, baby, that’s not ”okay“.”

“I just,” he inhales and licks over his lips, skating across your sternum in the process. “I wasn’t sure I was gonna stay afloat without you.” You comb your fingers through his hair.

“Tell me when you need me and I’ll be there. Always.”

“I didn’t want to disrupt your schedule and get in the way.”

“You have to trust that I’ll take care of myself and my responsibilities even if I help you too. You always tell me that when I worry over the same things. It goes both ways, San, okay?”

“Okay.” He nods against you. “Okay, I’ll try to remember that. As long as you don’t lock yourself away when things get tough. Rely on me if you need strength. And talk to me when something is on your mind.”

“Alright, we have an agreement.” Out of nowhere, you remember Wooyoung’s suggestion from this morning. Picking at a stray piece of San’s hair, you mull over your thoughts some more. You could let things settle as they are now since things seem to be back to a pleasant state of balance. But even so, would it do any harm to try anyway? “I’d like to go on a first date again. With you. I want us to go on a first date again.”

“Hm?”

“Like… I want us to go out like it’s the first time all over again. And feel that excitement and giddiness we had back then. We don’t have to, it’s just a thought. I don’t know. Maybe it’d be a good thing after this semester.”

Silence overtakes the room. San’s breathing is so steady that you think he’s fallen asleep, but the second you try to shift and see his face, he tilts his head up and looks into your eyes.

“Alright. Let’s go on a first date again.”

…

“I figured we’d go to that little Thai place by the grocery before heading over to the Christmas light show?”

“Oh!” Your thoughts rearrange themselves around his words. “That sounds really nice, yeah.”

“The guys wanna meet up at Wooyoung’s after for chicken and beer, but I told them I’d leave the decision up to you.” He tilts his chin a bit to the side as he speaks, lips quirked up at the corners, and you find yourself so incredibly fond of him all over again.

“Let’s see how we feel after walking around.”

You offer to drive tonight, but he denies you quickly, whining about how he filled his tank full of gas just for tonight so you don’t push the matter any further than that (though, you still tease him a bit once he opens the passenger door for you). When he turns the car on, music starts blasting through the speakers, a song you recognize well, and the dash shows that he’s been listening to the playlist you made for him at the start of the last school year. 

“Sorry, forgot the volume was up so high.” He scrambles to twist the dial down, but you stop him with your hand, gripping his wrist lightly and giving a firm shake of your head.

“I didn’t realize you still listened to it. Normally you just have the radio going.”

“Ah, well,” San’s cheeks are a bit flush under the low lights of the car, “I suppose I’ve been feeling a bit sentimental these days.” His next move is a bit hesitant; he reaches across the console and lays his hand atop your thigh. You reassure him by putting your hand over his, fingers curling around his once again. It feels normal and familiar, though you can’t count on two hands the last time you’ve done something as menial as holding hands with San. 

“San?” He makes a noise of acknowledgment while watching the road. “I’ve missed you.” His nails dig into your flesh a little, and the pressure makes your heart clench in your chest.

“I’ve missed you more.” You can only see his side profile, but it’s enough for you to catch the upturn of his lips. 

“I’ve missed you most then.” The statement slips out through a pout. 

“And I love you more than the moon loves the ocean.”

The weight of his hand is comfort enough for you to be at ease for the rest of the drive.

────────────

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this work belongs to caly / hongism (2023). do not copy, repost, or plagiarize in any way.

[loveinhawkins]

”How do you do it?” Eddie asks.

The question slips out far too late at night, anxiety thrumming in his chest—he’s not escaped the feeling ever since the boathouse, when he simply couldn’t sleep, felt like a fox just waiting for hound dogs to get his scent, ready to run—

Steve doesn’t need him to explain further, as if he can somehow hear a whole lot of what Eddie’s not saying: like when he picked up the phone an hour ago and hadn’t even let Eddie tie himself in knots, had just said, so easily, “I’ll come get you,” like it wasn’t a huge inconvenience, like he’d been the one to call Eddie instead.

He’s considering Eddie from where he lies in bed, leaning on his elbow, and he’s still got the covers off pointedly—and that’s a big thing, Eddie thinks, a big thing he doesn’t know what to do with, because they’ve not talked, not really, not got much beyond the dizzying relief of still being alive.

But even fraught with profound lack of sleep, Eddie doesn’t think he’s misreading the look in Steve’s eyes.

I know, those eyes say, illuminated by the warm light of the bedside lamp. It’s okay, there’s no rush. I’m right here.

Eddie’s never seen that kind of look before. Not towards him.

“Sometimes Robin sleeps over,” Steve says thoughtfully. “And sometimes the kids are around, and they’re so annoying and I get, like, three hours, tops.” He says it with all the fondness in the world. “And sometimes I’m alone, and it’s fine.”

“What about the other times?” Eddie can’t help but whisper.

If it were a reasonable hour maybe he wouldn’t dare to ask at all, but exhaustion’s worn down the filter in his head—at this point it’s practically see-through.

Steve shrugs. “Yeah, they’re shit,” he says with such honesty that Eddie nearly asks it again, how do you do it?

“But then it’s, like, a new day,” Steve says slowly, like he’s carefully weighing up what to say, “and I can… drive.” The pause tells Eddie he means go to someone. “Or, like… call, if it’s really bad.”

Hey, I’m glad you called, man, Steve had said when Eddie got into his car earlier, like they were just going to the movies or something normal—like Eddie wasn’t shaking, forehead pressed against the passenger window.

Eddie feels his throat close up a little. Tries to sniff as quietly as possible.

“Eddie,” Steve says patiently. He moves back in the bed. Gives Eddie space. “C’mere.”

Steve keeps the lamp on which helps; this isn’t the boathouse, Eddie thinks, and the slightest bit of tension leaves his body. Even that feels like a miracle.

He’s just resigning himself to lying there, staring up at the ceiling so at least Steve can get some rest, when Steve turns and catches his eye, still wide awake.

“Tell me about The Lord of the Rings,” Steve says.

The tightness in Eddie’s chest loosens; he laughs in surprise. “What?”

“You heard me.”

Eddie turns so he’s facing Steve properly, attempts a casual shrug, knowing already that it’ll be too rigid. “I don’t know, man. We, uh. We kinda lived through Mordor already.”

His hand twists in the bedsheets, knuckles turning white.

I don’t know how to do this. I’ve never had…

Steve’s hand reaches across, eases Eddie’s grip on the sheets, like he’s saying, neither did I. Just give it a shot.

“The shire, then,” Steve says.

Eddie smiles. “Steve Harrington,” he says, suddenly finding enough lightness to tease; he’s missed it. “Are you asking me for a bedtime story?”

“Nope,” Steve says. “We’re just gonna lie here and talk.”

And they do.

Steve asks questions which works out for the best—Eddie can’t quite remember the last time he read the books. To tell the truth, anything that happened before March often has a kind of fog over it.

He’s sure he’s dropped at least a couple of plot points somewhere along the way, but Steve never once complains that he’s not making sense, just gently prompts Eddie until… until…

“Mm, I know what you’re doing,” Eddie mumbles through a yawn that catches him unawares.

“Oh, do you now?” Steve says, sounding smug. God, Eddie loves him. “Is it working?”

“Maybe.” Eddie says. His eyelids are heavy. “Um.” He yawns again. “Where… where was I?”

“Don’t worry about it, man,” Steve says. It sounds like he’s smiling—Eddie would check, but it’s suddenly impossible to keep his eyes open.

It’s okay, he thinks hazily, melting into sleep without even thinking about it. He can ask Steve in the morning.

There’s no rush.

[galacticgraffiti]

⋆☾⋆ Big Love Ahead ⋆☽⋆

!!! NSFW ⋆ 18+ ⋆ Minors DNI !!!

Summary: Halsin rescues you after you get hurt in a fight, and you get to spend some time with him during the spring and summer months as he nurses you back to health. And maybe, you start to wonder what it would be like if his hands touched you for different reasons than just to heal you…

Rating: Mature/Explicit (for horny nudity not smut) Wordcount: 4.5k Descriptors: The first two chapters are fairly genderneutral. Reader's physique is not really described aside from being quite a bit shorter and smaller than Halsin. CW: Fluff, softness, (physical) hurt/comfort, being nursed back to health by Halsin, pet names, this is achingly sweet, flirting, banter, oblivious pining, rated explicit for the eventual smut in chapters to come

✦⋆ Main Masterlist ⋆✦⋆ If you prefer AO3 ⋆✦

⋆༻༺⋆༺༻⋆••●••⋆༺༻⋆༻༺ ⋆

Chapter 1: The Druid

He is the one who finds you.

Heavy footsteps make the earth vibrate beneath you, then soft fur presses against your bloodied cheek. You let it happen only because you can’t escape. It’s a miracle you’re still alive, if you are honest with yourself, and you are quite sure this is just a dream.

Surely, it must be a dream, right? To be lifted, not by paws but big, strong hands, to be carried out of that violent grove that nearly became your grave. To be placed upon the softest thing you have ever felt, and to see skin turn into fur once more as he lays beside you. Surely, a dream.

You close your eyes, and you drift off.

*****

When you wake up, you are disoriented beyond all hells, and alone.

Your entire body aches, but when you look down, you see that all your wounds have been mended and wrapped in neat bandages. Some of them smell of forest and herbs, others of things you have no words for describing.

Sitting up makes your head spin, so you decide to close your eyes again. Just… for a moment.

*****

It’s night when you wake up, though once you think about it, you are not sure how you know. Was it this dark the last time you woke up? You think there was some light - you saw the bandages, you could see the shape of your body beneath the sheets… But now, there is just darkness, so black it scares you, heavy like a blanket made from a thousand deaths.

Your heart starts to race, and you feel yourself breaking out in sweats as you think about your lost friends - all of them laying bloodied and broken on the battlefield like dolls, with slit throats and arrows in their hearts.

You groan in pain when you sit up, and the edges of your vision start to blur.

“Careful, now.”

The voice startles you. It comes from the opposite end of whatever room you are in, too far away for you to reach out and touch, and even with all your squinting, you can’t see anyone. Your fingers grip the sheets tightly.

“Who are you? Why did you bring me here?” Your voice is scratchy and raw, and your throat burns from the dryness. You cough, doubling over as you try to inhale some air to fill your desperate lungs.

“Shh, don’t die on me now, little flower.” 

The voice is much closer now, and out of habit, your hand slides down your thigh to where you usually keep your knife. It’s not there - of course it’s not, you are not wearing anything more than you’d need to guarantee the smallest amount of decency.

Panic rises in your chest, a sour taste coating your tongue.

“Who are you?” You repeat, out of breath from those few words.

“I saved you.” A flame is lit only a few feet away from you, and your eyes hurt from the sudden light. You squint, trying to get used to it. All you can see is the faint silhouette of a… man. A broad-backed man, taller than you have ever seen, with long hair and a gentle face. Pointed ears peek out from beneath soft curls, and you stare at him. 

An elf? With this… frame? Who the hells is this guy?

He looks at you calmly, patiently waiting for your reaction.

“Saved me?” The question makes you cough again. A hand appears in front of your face, offering you a waterskin. You accept it without much hesitation - what choice do you have? If he wanted to kill you, he would have done it by now.

The water hurts as much as it helps - cool and fresh as it runs down your dry throat. You take a few careful sips and damn near end up coughing your lungs out again. The hand takes the water away from you gently.

“That’s enough for now. Slow down, or you’ll make yourself sick.” His voice speaks more of concern than command. You let go, pressing back into your little corner.

“You didn’t answer my question,” you say finally. “Who are you?”

The man steps back into the shadows, his back turned to you. He is scarred and marked in ways only people from the wilds ever are, and that calms you a little. He is not a soldier.

“Rest for now,” he says. “We will talk when you wake again.”

You want to object, but large, warm hands press you down into your soft bedding again and pull the blanket up over your shoulders. Your eyes flutter closed - you are tired, so tired still. Distantly, you wonder how much time has passed since the grove.

“Wait,” you whisper, your hand finding his larger one in the dark. Your fingers curl weakly.

“What is it? Something you need?” Once again, his only feeling seems to be concern.

You slowly shake your head and regret the motion immediately when you taste blood on your tongue.

“No, I don’t- just… thank you.”

He stills in your weak grasp. Moments pass, then finally, his voice comes again, sounding oddly sad.

“You are welcome, little one.”

*****

You find a rhythm after that, sleeping and waking. Sometimes he’s around, sometimes he is not. You realise that the supposed room you are in is little more than a cave decked out in some essentials.

After a few days, you finally learn his name: Halsin.

Halsin looks after you, and you don’t question why. He does not talk much, but the look on his face never makes you doubt that the only thing he wants is for you to get better.

You drink more water, and after a few days, Halsin finally allows you to eat: Stew, not much, fed to you by his large hand holding a spoon that seems much too small for him.

When the food stays down, Halsin allows you to eat more and more, and you get some of your strength back. Your body still hurts, but all your bones seem to be in the right place - though some are definitely still broken, as you discover when you try to lay on your side.

Some days after you first remember waking up, you manage to sit up all by yourself and your fingers can hold the spoon for the first time. Halsin watches you carefully, whittling away as you eat a bowl of stew. And another. And another.

“Someone was hungry,” he smiles.

“Hungry as a bear,” you grin. He furrows his brow. You swear his eyes seem golden, but it’s probably just the light of the fire. He stares into the darkness for a moment, then puts his knife to the side. Before you can ask him what is wrong, he is gone.

****

Halsin returns the next day, back to his usual self. You wouldn’t quite call it ‘chipper’, but none of the worry that graced his features yesterday seems to remain. You decide it is wisest not to ask about it. If there is something you need to talk about, he will tell you in time.

When Halsin tucks you into bed that night as has become his habit, you notice - not for the first time - how good he smells: Of fresh grass and summer rain, of wood and smoked leather. You become acutely aware that you yourself have not had a bath in quite some time.

“Halsin?” You bite your tongue, feeling awkward about asking.

“What is it?”

“Do you… well. I think I should take a bath.”

Halsin cocks his head. You can see the cogs in his head turning, behind his soft, round features. He crosses his arms, and your heart flutters at the sheer swell of his biceps. You shake your head to shoo the unwelcome thought away.

“Well. there is a stream close to the cave…” he says slowly.

You nod excitedly.

“Perfect! I can-”

“You are still very injured, little flower,” he interrupts you - not rudely, but firmly. “You can barely stand up, let alone walk all the way there. The stream is dangerous, and I do not want you injuring yourself-”

“Carry me, then,” you propose hastily, more in jest than anything else. A small smile tugs on the corners of Halsin’s eyes.

“You can’t stand on your own either, and only one of your arms has healed enough for you to wash yourself.” He quirks a brow. “Have you got a solution for that too, little one?”

“You can wash me,” you suggest, this time fully certain he will recognise the joke.

Halsin chuckles to himself and shakes his head.

“All that effort- for what? Your wounds are clean, and you are getting better every day. Have I not taken care of you? Is there something I missed? If you tell me-”

“You smell good,” you say before you can think about your words. Halsin’s eyes widen by the smallest fraction, but he stays quiet, so you drone on. “You smell like forest and fresh pine, and meanwhile, I have been wasting away in this cave for weeks now. I want to… I don’t know. I want to feel like less of a burden, I suppose. I want to feel like myself again.”

“Oh.” Halsin takes your hand, very gently, like a doctor calming his patient. It still makes your heart race. “You are not a burden. Taking care of you has been my privilege.”

“You’re sweet,” you whisper. Halsin lets go of you.

“Do you… do you think a bath would help you feel better?” he asks, his voice serious. “I know I don’t provide much entertainment-”

“I like it when you are around,” you admit quietly. “I like watching you whittle. Your presence calms me.”

At that, Halsin lets out a roaring laugh that takes you totally by surprise - so much so that you simply fall into laughing with him. You cannot grasp what he could be laughing about, but seeing him so happy - knowing you are the one who made him laugh - it makes your heart stumble.

“Fine,” Halsin says when he can breathe again. “Alright, little one, if a bath is what you want, a bath is what you shall get.”

*****

When he returns the next day, for the first time, you notice that you have no idea where he sleeps. He laughs the questions off as he looks over your various wounds and ailments.

These inspections have become a ritual that both excites and frightens you: It excites you because it means Halsin’s big hands on your body, stroking, nearly caressing, touching (almost) every inch of you. It frightens you because you are scared he will notice how much you like it. And it scares you to think that one day, there might not be anything for him to look at - and when your wounds are healed, where will you go?

 You scoot to the front of your makeshift bed when Halsin asks you to, dangling your feet over the edge. When he kneels between your thighs to examine a particularly deep cut in your upper thigh, it takes all your strength not to cup his jaw and ask him to kiss you.

You daydream yourself away - dream of the way his hands look on you, of the way the light bounces off his irises and makes it seem like they are glowing. You dream of his lips and how soft they might be against yours, and you try to remember that feeling when he first found you - the softness of fur - might it have been his hair?

“Alright,” Halsin declares, interrupting your yearning thoughts. 

“Alright?” you ask, looking down at him. He stands, suddenly towering over you. You swallow thickly.

“I think… it’s time for my little patient to have a bath.” He smiles and offers you his hand. You feel like you have been punched in the stomach when he calls you his patient. Is that all you are to him? Just some… girl he needs to heal? Someone he found and took responsibility for? Still, you take his hand and slide off the bed.

Your legs give in nearly the second they touch the ground, but Halsin’s strong arms are there to catch you. He lifts you like you weigh no more than a feather. His arms feel familiar, and comfortable, and like you could fall asleep in them forever and ever. You sigh happily and snuggle against his broad chest.

When you realise what you are doing, your eyes snap open, terrified of your own actions.

“Sorry,” you mumble, your cheeks aflame with embarrassment. Halsin’s chest shakes against you.

“No need to apologise. I am happy you feel comfortable in my presence.”

“Mhhm.” You try to hide your face as best you can, lest he recognise the emotions that must be showing.

Halsin carries you carefully, stopping as you get closer to the light near the entrance of the cave.

“Close your eyes, little one. You haven’t been outside in quite a while, and the sun is bright today.”

You follow his instructions, pressing your eyes shut. The air smells fresh and sweet when he steps out of the cave, and the rays of sun that dance on your face warm you from the inside out. You blink carefully, lids still half closed as you take in your surroundings: The formation of rocks that makes up your cave, the meadow below you, the quiet gurgle of a stream behind a grove of trees.

“Oh.” The noise is barely more than a breath that escapes you, but when you look up at Halsin, a bright smile illuminates his features.

“Beautiful, is it not?”

“Yes!” you nod your head enthusiastically, too distracted by the beauty around you to notice the way Halsin’s eyes linger on your face.

“I am glad you think so.” His arms tighten around you for a moment as he adjusts his stance. “Are you feeling alright? The place I had in mind is not far.”

“I am wonderful,” you assure him, closing your eyes as you bask in the sun. You never noticed how much you missed all of this until now. Halsin’s company is the best you could imagine, but the cave gets lonely from time to time. You like being outside, hearing the birds sing again, watching the clouds that sail through the sky above.

“Right then,” Halsin nods. “Onwards we go.”

It really is not a long walk - it barely takes a minute. The quiet corner of the river is tucked between two bends, next to a big weeping willow. It’s warm outside, much warmer than you expected, and you dare to hope the water might not be ice cold.

Halsin stops right next to a small pool of water, set apart from the rest of the river by a few stones, carefully placed - much too neat to be a natural occurrence.

“I made a bath for you,” he says, sounding quite pleased with himself. “I knew you could never withstand the current, not in the shape you are in, and…”

You look up at him, awed by his care and affection.

“Thank you,” you whisper. Halsin smiles quietly.

“Whatever I can do to help, it’s my pleasure.” He points at the pool with his chin. “Do you think this will suffice?”

“Oh, it will more than suffice,” you nod, practically vibrating with excitement. Finally, after all this time, a bath. Feeling clean again. 

Halsin seems to consider something, his brow furrowed with concern.

“I did not think about… where to put you down.”

You look at him in confusion and he shrugs, your weight not even slowing his shoulders in the movement. Your heart leaps.

“I mean,” Halsin explains, averting his eyes from yours tactfully, “that you will have to undress before you get in. Now, as you may have noticed, I enjoy nature in all of her forms, but I know not everyone is so… inclined.”

You swear you see a blush creep into his cheeks. His eyes flashing golden in the sunlight. Your heart flutters when you finally understand what he is trying to tell you.

“Oh!” you exclaim then, wiggling in his arms. This could not go better if you had planned it. You didn’t even think of this when you asked for a bath, but oh dear, did fate give you a good hand today. “I don’t mind if you stay, Halsin.”

“I want to make sure you don’t hurt yourself.” He sounds almost like he is trying to convince himself. “I made that pool of water quite deep so you could sit in it, though it is shallow enough the sun should have warmed it up a bit…”

“I would jump into the ice seas if only it meant a chance for a bath,” you chuckle. You tug at Halsin’s arm. “Put me down, please.”

He sets you down on the ground so gently as if you could break. You find your footing after a moment, holding on to his big arm until your head stops spinning, waving him off when he bends down to look at you with concerned eyes.

“I’m fine, I’m fine. Promise.”

Halsin stares at you, but he doesn’t drag you back to the cave, so you take that as a sign of faith. You take a deep breath and start peeling out of the few layers of fabric you have on you. Reaching for your bandages, you hesitate.

“Should I leave those on?” you ask. Halsin’s eyes snap up to yours, and you nearly giggle at the look on his face. He has the expression of a bear caught with his paw in the honeypot.

“Oh… no,” he answers finally. “You can take those off, I’ll put fresh ones on after your bath.”

“Mhhm. You take such good care of me.”

You start peeling the bandages from your maltreated body, dedicating all your energy to staying upright. Halsin’s eyes never leave you, roaming up and down your naked body, but you are far too focused on the task at hand to notice.

This is the longest you have been on your legs in weeks, and your thighs are already starting to burn. Quickly, you finish unwrapping yourself. Before you can figure out a plan of how to best get into the water, strong hands slip beneath your arms and lift you up.

You squeal with joy as Halsin slowly lowers you down into the water.

It’s warmer than you expect, yet still cold as all hells. Goosebumps rise on your body and you shiver. Halsin stops moving, you, halfway submerged, hanging limp in his arms.

“Are you alright?”

Your teeth are not exactly chattering, but it takes some effort to keep it that way.

“‘M fine,” you say. “It’s just… a b-bit cold. But I’m okay. You know, I wasn’t kidding when I said I’d take the ice seas earlier.”

Laughter rumbles from Halsin’s chest like thunder. It makes you smile. He laughs so much more now than he used to.

“Fine. I’ll- just give me a moment.”

You are gently placed down in the pool, cold water up to your neck. Halsin makes a dissatisfied sound.

“Seems I overestimated your size, little flower.”

“Not hard to do when you’re this big,” you mumble, turning around to look up at him, gesturing at his silhouette that stands out against the sun- and stop. 

Your jaw nearly hangs open when you are faced with a nearly naked Halsin. You blink and shake your head, ready to believe that the cold may be causing hallucinations. Maybe you never woke up from your sickbed - maybe this is a dream. Maybe you died on the battlefield and this is Celestia.

Halsin sheds the last layers of clothing covering himself, and it’s all you can do not to say fuck me quite loudly. You bite your lip, but before you can even process the situation, Halsin has slipped into the self-made pool with you.

The water seems to heat up the second he is in there with you, his body so close to yours you could barely fit a leaf between the two of you. His eyes are bright gold in the sunshine, and he takes a deep breath, his chest expanding.

You stare and stare and hope you are not being all too obvious about it. Carefully, you take a step back only to slip on the muddy ground.

Halsin catches you easily, your body pressed against his, and you think that the water might start to boil any second now.

“Thanks,” you murmur, straightening up. His hand lets go of you as he takes a step back himself - the furthest he can go, even though there is stll barely space between you.

“Are you warm enough now?” he rumbles, sounding amused. There is a note of something else in his voice - a strain; not impatience, but something close to it. You press your hands to your sides awkwardly.

“Yeah… yeah, this is better. Thank-”

“No need to thank me.” Halsin interrupts you, abruptly turning around, away from you. The water that is up to your neck barely reaches halfway up his back. “I shall stay here so you don’t get sick on top of all your other injuries. Take all the time you need.”

You wish the water wasn’t so clear that you can see every detail of his backside. You wish his hair was not so soft, shining in the sun. You wish you could not see the muscles of his back ripple when he shifts, and that his shoulders would not look so perfectly round and juicy it makes your mouth water. You wish it was not so hard to avert your eyes.

A golden glitter in the water catches your eye. It travels up Halsin’s calf, his thigh. He shakes his head like he is swatting away flies, and the spark in the water fades.

What the hells was that?

You frown; but the water is winning you over. Your legs already hurt from standing, though the water makes the weight more bearable, and as much as you wish to stay here forever, tucked closely into your little corner of the world, feeling Halsin’s body next to yours, you have to admit you are feeling a little tired.

So, you get to work, scrubbing yourself down, dunking your head into the water and trying to extrapolate the filth from your hair. You are fairly certain Halsin must have at least wiped you down with a washcloth after rescuing you, since your body is not still covered entirely in guts and blood and dirt, but you have not had a proper bath in so long.

You sigh quietly as you wash your hair, your shoulders, your thighs, scrubbing and scrubbing until you feel raw in the best way. One of your arms hangs uselessly by your side, the bone on the mend but not healed, and soon, your other arm burns with exhaustion.

Halsin has not turned around to face you, though from his relaxed stance you are guessing he is probably basking in the sun with his eyes closed. You try and push through the pain and exhaustion, but eventually, you have to admit defeat.

“Halsin?” You tap his shoulder blade. A flash of light appears in the water, gone as soon as it came. His neck turns slightly.

“Yes?”

“Can you… help me?” you ask shyly. Finally, he turns around, his expression soft and controlled.

“What do you need help with, my angel?”

You shiver at the gravel in his voice, at the way he looks at you - with eyes burning, though you don’t dare to hope it may be desire. Maybe he is just getting impatient.

“I can’t reach,” you explain and point to your back. “Not with this arm, and-”

Large hands roam across your body, careful to avoid all the sore spots and healing wounds.

“Of course,” he grumbles. “Turn around.”

You blink up at him, then carefully spin around - you have learned your lesson from last time - holding onto the edge of the pool.

Halsin’s fingers are rough, but not in an uncomfortable way. His palms are soft when he slowly rubs small circles into your back, washing away dirt and grime, showering you in his attention and his care. You catch the golden sparkle in the water again, but when you twist to see, it is already gone again. It must be the sun.

You close your eyes and let yourself sink into the feeling of Halsin so close to you.

Something tightens in your belly at the way he touches you - the gentleness his large hands are capable of more than you can handle. The way his hands could so easily wrap around your waist makes your heart stumble.

Halsin’s hands glide up your back easily, up to your hairline, roaming across your shoulder blades, and back down, stopping just shy of the small of your back. A quiet moan escapes from your throat at the touch, and you stiffen. Halsin carries on as if nothing has happened.

Fine. If he can ignore it, then so can you.

You are fairly certain that you are clean at this point, but Halsin is not stopping on his own, and who would you be to tell him to stop? You close your eyes and relax into his touch, into the soft pads of his fingers that dig into your shoulders in just the right way, the warmth of his body that you can feel even through the water.

“Good,” he mumbles eventually, his hands vanishing from your back.. “I know you must be tired. Are you satisfied?”

With you? Never, you want to say. What comes out instead is a vague,

“Mmhhm.”

Halsin chuckles quietly.

“Oh, you are exhausted, my love. Come on, I will take you to bed.”

Your eyes are falling shut when he heaves himself out of the water, and you can’t even open your mouth to make a silly joke about being taken to bed by him. You could slap yourself for not being able to keep your eyes open - oh, to see him one more time, to take him in in all his glory in the fading light of the day. 

Halsin lifts you out of the water easily. A shiver runs through him that makes you crack your eyes open. His irises glow golden in the sinking sun, and you smile at the sight. He smiles back at you, wrapping you in cloth, and carries you back to your cave, and back to your bed.

You are half-asleep when your head hits the pillow, so you can’t even blame yourself when your voice asks sleepily:

“Will you stay here with me tonight?”

Halsin gently pulls his hand from your grasp.

“Not tonight, my angel,” he murmurs, stroking your cheek so softly you wonder if you imagined it. “But I’ll be right outside should you need me.”

⋆༻༺⋆༺༻⋆••●••⋆༺༻⋆༻༺ ⋆

» Next Chapter

Hello my darlings! I have been consumed whole by BG3 and the big bear man, so I hope you enjoy! (Lmk if you want to not be tagged in this little series, I'm just going to tag my usuals)

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[spdrvyn]

WHY DON'T WE CALL IT FOR WHAT IT IS? — [ post-atsv. spider-reader. wc 1.4k ] you and miguel are dating in secret. neither of you are a fan of pda, so he shows as much as he can in private.

Your participation in the Society recently was bordering on mediocre. In your defense, your other job has been keeping you occupied. Of course, living with Miguel still means that you can see him a lot. A privilege that the other measly spiders can not afford, but you.

However, Miguel was on another strike mission in a never seen before spider dimension. From the details he told you, it was a world blanketed in snow and ice. It required very specific agents to accomplish and knowing him, he volunteered himself to go with too.

Once you were free from your shift, you anxiously waited near the console. Only occasionally leaving to grab a snack and go to the bathroom, as each minute passed the more nervous you became.

Miguel left early in the morning, bidding you farewell with a kiss on your forehead that you were still way too groggy for. It was late in the evening now and there was no sign of him or his team.

Your mind started to wander, passing scenarios of what you wished could happen once you finally saw him. You would leap at him with your arms spread to prepare for his warm embrace, you would pepper kisses all across his handsome face and he'd flush under the attention. Unfortunately, you could only dream that would happen.

As much as possible, both you and Miguel have been trying to keep your relationship private. Not for any life-threatening or intensely serious reasons, but it was for both of your comfort. You liked the intimacy that came with keeping everything private, knowing that whatever you had between each other was just for you. Miguel thought the same, he was the one who suggested it after all.

Still, that fact hindered you. Your jobs and his entailed long nights away from each other and when you finally reunited or even had more than ten minutes to just be, you couldn't act on your true desires because you would be in the eyes of other people.

"Hey. A dollar for your thoughts?" Margo chimed, her iridescent hologram brought a soothing glow to the dark oranges and yellows of the console room.

"Isn't it a penny for your thoughts?"

"Well, they've had to up the prices. You know, inflation." You couldn't tell if she approached you because she noticed how deep in thought you appeared to be or if she too was riding on waves of boredom. Nevertheless, a distraction would probably help.

"Who are you waiting for exactly?" Margo turned her back to you for a second and flickers on her own screens, nearly in the same fashion Lyla does. Only they look more purple as opposed to dandelion.

"Miguel. He wanted to talk to me about a - progress report and I think the mission he went on overlapped with that meeting."

She chortled at your hesitation, the sound increased when you mentioned your reasoning. "I didn't know he did those kinds of reports. You must be special, huh?"

"They're, uh, you have to ask for them."

Over time, you were able to develop a skill where you can pull any sort of lie out of your ass. That was mostly because you used to only be interrogated by Peter B. (he still does it) and he was pretty easy to shut down. Ask about his daughter and all of that, crisis averted.

But this was different. It was a teenager you were talking to, if you were her age in her position right now, you would also be trying to pry as much as you could and tell all your friends about what you heard.

"You asked for it? You're stronger than me, for sure."

Miguel isn't that bad- No. Miguel can be professional about it- No. Miguel is my boyfrieeeend- No!!

"Gotta build that emotional endurance too, you know?" You lied through your teeth, this was your true emotional endurance test. You just prayed that literally anything else could happen so that you could move on from this point in the conversation.

That was when you saw it. A miracle. A message from God. That familiar vortex of colors, that familiar bright red arm blade.

"Well, speak of the devil. Good luck with your meeting!" Margo remarked before she webbed to another side of the console, she looked busy. Maybe trying to look busy.

Miguel looked a little worse for ware, and so did the spiders following behind him. You glued yourself in place to keep from immediately checking for any injuries, but you're confident that the look on your face completely gave you away.

When the portal closed, he swiftly faced his team. "Good work on the strike mission. Make sure to get some rest in before sending in your reports. Contact me, Jess, or Peter if you need anything else."

What he intended as a compliment or two sounded slightly tense coming out of his mouth, you were a bit of a long-standing Society member so after The Spot happened, you could tell he was trying more at boosting morale. Even though his scowl and tone of voice sort of eradicated the kindness in what he actually meant, you found it cute that he tried anyway.

Everyone quickly dispersed, some left in pairs, some hopped into a portal straight to what seemed to be their home dimension. From where you were standing, you could see Miguel's shoulders sag in relief. His mask dissipated to reveal his worn out mug and he immediately turned to walk over to you.

You could tell he wanted to fold. Leave all of today's remaining problems to the Miguel of tomorrow, crawl into your loving embrace, and lay in dormancy until he would meet his fate again.

"Miguel," You initiate. "Is it time for my meeting now?"

There was no meeting. He probably had no idea what you were talking about, but he did at the same time. His steely, jaded disposition gave way to the warm, homely lover you have always known. He nodded, the moment you two stepped inside the apartment, he hugged you.

~

Over the course of your relationship with Miguel, he had taken you out to a good amount of luxurious fine dining restaurants. You were always extremely grateful, especially since he would refuse to let you pay even by a little. He's introduced a lot of new options and in return, you'd show him around the good food spots in your city too.

Yet, nothing could ever compare to a slow, home-cooked meal with just the two of you. Everything felt so intimate that way, you didn't have to worry about public appearances. Many meals being dished out with both you and Miguel in your pajamas.

Tonight was no different, of course. Miguel seemed more sluggish this time around, but you didn't mind picking more work than usual. You would have cooked for him yourself, but you had a feeling that he'd fight you for that.

Dinner had fallen into a comfortable silence this time, your relationship has gotten to the point where there was no obligation to make conversation. Sometimes, Miguel would burst into drawn-out rambles about how his day went and you'd listen intently. Except now, he's too tired to even speak.

After putting the dishes away and performing night routines, a movie in bed would be the perfect conclusion to such a peaceful night.

Nueva York was colder compared to your city, you complained about it to him multiple times so now Miguel usually keeps more than one blanket on the bed now. Honestly, you said it because you liked being snug in his arms when you slept with him. Not in that way.

Miguel's head rested on the column between your shoulder and neck, he weighed you down onto the memory foam mattress with a leg over both of yours and his arms snaked around your torso.

From your peripherals, you could see him gazing up at you. His attention stolen by your face, merlot hued eyes that traced every line, curve, and detail.

"Migs," You smiled back at him. "What are you gawking at?"

Bashfully, he turned his face inward with the hint of a grin at the upturned corners of his lips. It made your heart pounce, the idea that you especially had the privilege of seeing him so tender and shy.

No psychic could have foreseen you living your life like this right now, the same could be said for Miguel too. You didn't force him into this, batter him down to be all soft and mushy. It was because he knew, he finally knew from the way you stayed and loved him through the thick and thin, that he was finally safe and those walls crumbled.

The warmth from his kisses travelled all the way up to your ear. There, he whispered to you a promise, a declaration.

"I want to spend the rest of my life with you."

awwww!!!! miguel!!!!!! anyway hii, been a while since i've uploaded a proper fic so here it is! i hope you guys enjoyed this one because i had a lot of fun writing it :-)

[mermaidgirl30]

✨Daddy’s Best Friend, Mr. Miller Pt 3: October Surprises and Secrets Slurred ✨

dbf! Joel Miller x fem! reader

Series Masterlist

-Pairing: Joel x fem! reader

-Rating: Explicit (18+ Only MDNI)

-Word Count: 13.2k

- Tags: Porn with Plot, dbf! Joel, fingering, oral, face riding, dirty talk, dom! Joel, (reader is 25, Joel is mid 40’s)

- Chapter Summary: Your relationship gets more heated with a lot more intimacy going on between you and Joel, but will you finally get caught?

- A/N: I love this series so much and can’t wait to bring you more filthy scenes between these two 🤭 Sorry not sorry this chapter is so long, it’s worth it 😉 Reblogs are appreciated and I always love seeing your comments ❤️

Dividers by @saradika-graphics

October rushes through Austin as the cool, autumn breeze whisks through your soft curls. The campus is buzzing with focused, anxious students who rush to get last minute papers and assignments in for midterms. You have been diligent and already turned in your law papers, so you’re now free of midterm anxiety, unlike the other students in your classes.

The historic, massive library is filled up with laptops splayed all over tables and empty Starbucks coffee cups that sit next to their cramped hands that struggle to keep writing in notebooks. Sunlight beams through the stained-glass windows as you pass through the library, making your way out into the cold to go find your car somewhere in the mix of all the campus traffic.

As you open the library doors, you get a shot of cold air that blows right through your purple cardigan, and you wrap it around yourself to try to keep the chill from seeping down into your bones. When you cross campus, your mind wonders to Joel and how much you want to see his handsome face right now. The thought of his massive hands cupping your chin and those pretty coffee colored eyes staring down at you make you shiver with anticipation.

Joel, Joel, Joel. He’s always on your mind, never letting a minute pass without him there. You both can’t leave each other alone, not able to go a day without speaking to one another. He always asks if you have plans after school or when your shift gets over at the coffee shop off Main Street. It’s almost like you’re a normal couple. Almost. There’s just that itch behind your ear that’s always buzzing when you’re with him. That loud, annoying ringing in your ears that reminds you that you’re sneaking around your parents, mostly your dad. You honestly have no idea how he would react to the news, so you’d hide it for as long as you could. Your mom might take it lighter, but your dad. He might actually lose it, and you do not want to see that happen.

When you get to your shining Nissan Rouge and hear the click of the unlocked door, you jump in and slam the door shut, throwing your belongings over in the passenger seat. As you put the silver key in the ignition and turn, it barely hums to life and then dies again. The glowing orange check engine light blinks in front of you, and you pound your hands on the sleek steering wheel.

“No, fuck! Please, work for me,” you beg as you turn the key and try again, praying for a miracle. The engine spurts out a pathetic, muffled sound and then magically starts up as the car hums to life once again. “Oh, thank God,” you sigh as you wipe the sweat from your forehead.

Joel. He’d know what to do. You pull out your phone and dial Joel’s number in a hurry, trying to keep your patience as you tap your nails on the black steering wheel. Joel picks up on the third ring.

“Hey there, gorgeous,” he drawls into the phone, his voice sounding like thick honey and sinking its way down into the pit of your stomach where warmth spreads.

“Hi, handsome,” you respond, a small smile spreading quickly over your face as the sound of his deep voice automatically soothes you.

“How was school? You get all your essays turned in? I don’t even have to ask, you already did. Didn’t you?” he asks with the sound of a light, raspy laugh on the end of the line.

“Just got them in today, actually,” you smile.

“Look at you gettin’ them in early. Such a smart girl, aren’t ya?” he purrs, making you bite your lip in response to the audible praise.

“Mhm,” you hum, your voice suddenly turning shaky as you look at the glowing engine light that warns you you shouldn’t be driving the car right now. Joel notices your shift in tone and responds with an edge to his voice.

“Everything alright, darlin’?” he asks concerned. It gives you goosebumps the way he’s always so protective, so careful of you.

“Umm-I’m fine, it’s just my car. My check engine light came on just now, and a few minutes ago I couldn’t even get it to start,” you respond back carefully with furrowed brows.

“Oh, shit. That ain’t good. You need a ride home? I can come get you-”

You cut him off and shake your head. “No, no. You’re at work, and my car came back on.”

“Darlin’, I don’t care that I’m at work. I don’t want ya drivin’ if it ain’t safe,” he says with a serious tone. You can tell he’s getting worked up, the way his breath falters and his sighs come out deep and clipped.

“Joel, really. I’m not that far from campus. I can make it home. Promise,” you respond with a more lighthearted response, hoping that Joel will settle with that answer.

“I don’t know if-”

You cut him off again. “Really, it’s fine. I’ll make it home,” you push.

You hear a long sigh and you can visually see him running his thick fingers through his patchy salt and pepper scruff. The vision of it makes warmth spread against your thighs as you squeeze your legs shut tight. “Fine, but I’m lookin’ at your car tomorrow and fixin’ it. S’not safe for you to be drivin’ it with your check engine light on,” he says with a raspy huff.

“Oh, you’re gonna fix it for me?” you ask with a stupid grin planted on your face.

“Mhm, gonna try my damn hardest to,” he replies as he clears his throat.

“And what do I owe you for your services, Mr. Miller?” you ask in a flirtatious voice.

You hear his low chuckle in the receiver, and it makes you giggle in response. “You don’t owe me nothin’, sweetheart. Just wanna make sure you’re safe,” he says with a light laugh. The sound makes your heart pound against your chest. Sweetheart. Safe. The words nearly take you out. He’s such a gentleman.

“Alright,” you say with a giggle. “I guess I’ll let you get back to work,” you sigh, not wanting to hang up on the handsome man that has your heart beating erratically for those gorgeous honey brown eyes.

“You be careful goin’ home, darlin’. Text me as soon as you make it there. I mean it,” he says with a serious, clipped tone.

“I promise,” you say back in a non serious tone.

“Okay. Well, I’ll talk to you later, beautiful. Remember, as soon as you get home,” he reminds you with a knowing tone in his voice.

“You got it. I’ll talk to you later,” you slur into the phone.

“Alright. Bye, gorgeous.” With that he hangs up the phone as you hear the line click dead. You throw your phone in the passenger seat and turn up the radio as Breaking Benjamin blares through the loud speakers. You nod your head to the beat and start to drive off, praying the car gets you there in one piece.

The glowing check engine light stays on the entire drive home, but you make it back safely. You park the car in the hooded garage and turn off the engine, letting it sit idle in the cool room. Whenever you make it through the door, you run straight into your dad as he almost spills his hot coffee all over his pressed white shirt.

“Shit, sorry dad! Didn’t see you there,” you apologize with frantic hands that steady the coffee cup in his hand.

“Careful now, I have a Zoom meeting in five minutes!” he sighs with the hint of agitation in his voice.

“Sorry, dad,” you apologize again.

Before you head to your room, you turn and tell your dad about your messed up car. “Oh, dad, before I forget to tell you. Joel’s coming over tomorrow to take a look at my car. The check engine light came on, and he’s gonna try to fix it for me,” you say lightly.

“Why didn’t you just ask me first? I could’ve taken a look. You sure asked Joel pretty quick there,” he says with his eyebrow raised and the hint of suspicion in there.

You gulp and try not to let your widening eyes give you away. “Oh, uhhh. I just thought you’d be too busy to take a look at it, and you know how good he is with fixing cars,” you shrug innocently.

“And you thought he’d be less busy than me tomorrow?” he asks with the tic of his jaw and wondering eyes staring questionably at you.

Your heart is in your chest and you feel the faint drops of sweat forming on your forehead. “I mean, I just didn’t want to bother you is all. Figured once I told you then you’d just tell me to ask Joel anyways,” you lie with a straight face, keeping your composure together.

He looks at you a few seconds and then nods, face relaxing a little. “Yeah, you’re definitely right, hun. That’s exactly what I would’ve done. Alright, well I need to hop on this call, so I’ll see you later.”

He turns into the direction of his office and you round the corner into the entryway and relax against the wall, breathing out a long sigh of relief. That was close. Too close for comfort.

You head up the stairs and back into your bedroom filled with lilac walls and scents of vanilla and citrus hanging in the air. Apartments. You need to find an apartment and fast.

The air is stuffy and hot in the garage, even though the autumn breeze blows gently outside as it carries red and golden leaves across the driveway. You’re wearing a light blue hoodie and cut off black denim shorts while you sit atop the wooden workbench in your garage. You gently kick your dangling legs off the side of the workbench and stare at the most gorgeous man working on your car. Joel Miller.

You watch the way he picks apart every single wire and car part he can get his hands on. His tousled dark curls sit slicked back against the top of his head by sweat that cakes his forehead, his grey t-shirt bunches around his thick arms every time he flexes and reaches under the hood, and his hands stay covered in grease and dirt from tearing apart your car piece by piece.

You can’t help but gawk at how ridiculously hot he is right now, can’t help the way you bite your lower lip seductively and run your tongue across the bottom of your lip in hopes to get a taste of him. You start to wonder what it’d be like to be bent over the hood of your car while he takes you from the back, start to imagine how good it’d feel to have his thick cock between your slick center as he fucks you senseless into oblivion. Can’t help the burning need in between your thighs as you squeeze your legs together and choke down a moan as slick starts to pool in the center of your lacy underwear.

“You alright there, darlin’?” he asks with concern hinting in his voice as he washes his hands in the garage sink, stepping closer to you as he wipes his hands off on a bunched up rag. “You look a little flushed there,” he says as he steps in front of you, just a few inches from meeting your knees.

“Umm, yeah. I’m fine. Just got a little hot, I guess,” you gasp out, nervously panting as your jaw drops open.

He slides up to you and stops right in front of your thighs, locking his knees up with yours as his t-shirt sticks against his broad chest and bulging biceps. You can’t help but stare at him and his pretty brown eyes with flecks of gold that sneak out and catch you unawarely. You want to run your fingers through his messy greying hair, want to wrap your arms around his neck and kiss him until you taste every single part of him as you unravel yourself around him.

“Why don’t you close your jaw, sweetheart. Gonna start drooling if you keep it up,” he smirks as he cups your chin and helps you close. You swallow away all the heat and try to calm yourself as he stands before you, but you can’t. He’s too much, too fucking much.

“Sorry, couldn’t help it,” you say flirtatiously as you bat your long eyelashes at him, feeling your blush paint the edges of your cheeks crimson.

“You gonna tell me what you were thinkin’ about?” he asks with the tic of his jaw, leaning his weight against the bench as his hand gently brushes your hip.

“I was just thinking how hot you looked leaning over the hood of my car. And your messy curls, how I want to run my fingers through them right about now,” you smile as he leans against you, taking his other hand and placing it against the top of your thigh as he gently runs his rough hand down to your knee.

“Oh, yeah? S’that right?” he laughs as he takes his other hand and pushes your thighs apart, stepping in between them as he runs calloused fingers up and down your smooth skin, turning your breaths ragged from the heat of his massive hands on you.

“Mhm,” you choke out, already worked up from his light flirting and the weight of his thick fingers on you.

“What else were ya thinkin’ about, hmmm?” he hums out, his eyes growing darker by the second.

“I was thinking…” you start as you run your fingers through his damp curls, making him groan as your nails scrape lightly against his scalp. “How good it’d feel if you fucked me on the hood of my car,” you purr, whispering into his ear seductively. You feel the bulge in his jeans already starting to form, feel how turned on he’s getting at the thought of you spread wide open for him on the top of your car.

“Christ, baby. Such a dirty girl, aren’t ya? Wantin’ me to fuck you senseless while I make you cum all over my cock. That’s what you want, ain’t it? To make you scream my name while I make you cum again and again and again…”

His voice lowers with a growl as he wraps his hands around your hips and drags you forward, ending right on the edge of the workbench as your legs clench around his back, his hands moving over the denim of your shorts as he snakes a hand up under the material, finding your soaked lace absolutely ruined for him.

You choke out a moan as he dips his fingers under your lace, slowly spreading your folds as his thumb finds your clit and circles you meticulously, stifling another moan out of you as you dig your fingers into his back and wrap your legs tighter around him.

“So fuckin’ wet for me, sweetheart. Such a good girl. Always ready for me. Always so needy, ain’t that right?” he smirks as he continues circling you, making your heels dig into his back as you slide a hand through his messy curls and drop your lips to the shell of his ear. Ragged moans leave your lips as he pushes two fingers inside your dripping hole while his thumb continues dancing over your throbbing bundle of nerves.

“Feels so good, daddy,” you pant, biting down on his earlobe as you hold in a loud moan while he circles you faster, getting you all worked up over him. You hear the sloshing noises of your wetness and his fingers pumping in and out of you, and it’s so fucking hot that more slick slides down your center as you start to come apart around him. You’re so close, almost there already.

“That’s right, baby. Daddy’s gonna make it all better,” he coos, curling up his fingers inside you as he hits the spongy part of your walls that elicit another moan deep into his ear as your toes curl in your Converse.

“Joellll,” you whine into his ear, dragging your fingers against the curls that sit matted to the back of his neck.

“What is it, baby? Can’t handle daddy’s fingers, huh?” he teases as his lips ghost across yours effortlessly. “Tell daddy what you want,” he smirks, speeding up the shift of his thumb against your aching clit.

“Want you…. oh, God,” you moan as he curls his fingers inside you nice and slow, moving them up further as you latch around him tighter.

“Go on, finish your sentence,” he smirks with clenched teeth as he works you over nice and thoroughly.

“Want you to fuck me,” you whine against the shell of his ear.

He clicks his tongue and shakes his head. “Can’t fuck you here, sweetheart. Don’t want your father findin’ you with my cock buried deep in that wet pussy now, do ya?”

You whine out as your breathing becomes hard to control, tattered moans filling his ear like a choir of angels. “No, don’t want that,” you gasp out, your fingers tangled in knots against the back of his soft t-shirt. “I want you though. Want you so fucking bad,” you groan as he continues building slick around his thick fingers.

“Wanna put this hard cock inside that pretty pussy of yours. Wanna fuck you so hard over this bench right now that you won’t be able to stand for the rest of the night. Wanna cum inside that drippin’ pussy while you moan my name as I take you from the back,” he growls as he fucks his fingers up inside you deeper, hitting the spongy area again and again as you feel your orgasm about to take flight.

“Want you to moan my name so loud when I make you cum that everyone in the neighborhood knows just who you belong to,” he growls with clenched teeth as he presses down harder on your clit, rubbing it in just the right area that you feel yourself start to spill. You feel the white hot heat start to take over as your eyes roll back and you clench up against his fingers that continuously curl up inside you.

“Joel, I’m… I’m coming,” you moan as you bite down on the scruff of his jaw, feeling your orgasm wash over you as you close your eyes and bite back your moan as you let him have it.

“That’s it, baby. Such a good fuckin’ girl. So good for me,” he praises as you take a few seconds to come out of your blissed out daze, his fingers gently releasing out of you as he brings them up to his mouth and sucks, staring at you with blown out pupils. Your eyes go wide as you watch him drink down your cum, humming to himself as he licks them clean.

“Taste s’good, darlin’. Can never get enough of you,” he purrs as he pulls your drenched underwear back over your cunt and straightens your shorts out again. You grab the back of his neck and pull him toward you, planting your lips over his as the taste of sweat, black coffee, and you enter your mouth. He wraps his hands around your hips and slithers his tongue into your mouth, letting you taste all of him as his senses envelop you, sweat and all.

Before you can get lost in him anymore, you hear the jostle of the doorknob and the squeaking hinges as the garage door starts to open. Joel jumps back out of your reach and grabs the bottle of synthetic oil off the back of the shelf, drawing his dark eyes away from you as you compose yourself with a quick breath and legs that clash together.

Your dad looks up at you with concerned eyes and purses his lips. “Honey, you feeling okay? Your face is all flushed and your eyes are so wide they look bloodshot.”

Your blood runs cold as you gulp down your nerves and flick your eyes over to Joel, watching as he stares at your idle car as he runs a hand nervously up the back of his neck. “I’m okay, dad. Just got a little too hot is all,” you say as you fan yourself with your hand, trying to get rid of the flush of your crimson cheeks.

“Oh, sorry about that sweetie. Want me to get you a bottle of water?” he asks with a gentle nod your way.

“Yeah. Thanks, dad.”

“Alright, honey. Be back in a minute.” He turns to Joel and slaps him on the back in a way that best friends only do. “How’s the car looking? Figure out what’s wrong?” he asks as he looks around the open hood of the car.

Joel loosens the top of the oil and sets it down beside the front wheel. “Yeah, there seemed to be some loose wires that got tangled around each other. I fixed ‘em. The serpentine belt looks to be pretty worn out, so I can stop at the hardware store tomorrow and get a new one. Should be an easy fix. And the car needs an oil change, so I’ll get that done real quick. Then it should be good to drive smoothly,” he says as he plays with the used towel in his hands.

“I can’t thank you enough for doing this, Joel. You sure do take care of my little girl,” he smiles in thanks.

Joel smiles back and chuckles. “Anything for your daughter, George. I always got her back.” He turns your direction and winks at you secretly, making your cheeks turn bright red at the secret meaning behind his words.

“You’re a good man, Joel Miller. Maybe one of these days I can get you to go on a date with one of Claire’s friends. Trust me, some of her friends already drool over you. Should ask one of them out. Could use a woman around the house. Maybe get you laid one of these days,” he teases as he claps a strong hand over Joel’s back.

Joel’s fists clench and his lips twitch at the mention of dating other women. You won’t lie, you feel a heavy weight against your chest and the tinge of jealousy runs hot down your throat. Joel would do no such thing. Mine.

“Nah, man. Thanks for the offer though. I’m good,” he responds. A breath you had been holding blows out, the wave of jealousy washing away as soon as he says the words.

“You sure? Wouldn’t hurt to at least have a night in with one of them. How long has it been, huh?”

“Dad!” you say forcefully, making both of them look your direction as you dig your nails into the wood, jaw locked into place. “Water?” you ask as you raise your eyebrows.

“Right, sorry. Be back in a minute.” With that he races back inside and slams the door shut.

“So, my dad’s trying to hook you up with one of my mom’s friends?” you ask with a raised eyebrow, mostly joking around with him.

“Don’t worry, darlin’. Already have my best girl right here,” he nods your way, curling his lips into a crooked smile. You can’t help but smile back at him and melt at his words. My best girl.

“That’s right. I’m your girl,” you say possessively.

“Damn straight you are,” he smirks, making butterflies flit through your stomach.

Your dad comes back with a cold bottle of water and leaves the two of you alone again, closing the door to go answer a phone call. As you let the fresh water quench your thirst, you watch Joel meander his way under your car, taking his time to change your oil out. You watch his soft t-shirt lift up just a tad, exposing thick dark hair that trails underneath the waistband of his jeans.

It takes everything in you not to go over and straddle him as he works, slipping your hand underneath his jeans as you pull his hard cock out and go down on him, taking him in your mouth nice and slow as you make his ropes of cum slide down the back of your throat. You hold back the temptation, knowing you can’t do that here. Not when your dad’s lurking around the corner of the house.

You sigh and watch him work, making light conversation with him as he puts the cap back on and crawls out from underneath the car. Grease stains his grey t-shirt, and he has a smudge of grease across his nose.

“Joel, come here. You’re a mess,” you giggle as you grab a towel from the metal shelf and jump down off the workbench, going over to stand in front of him. You wipe off the grease from his nose and wipe off his hands next, making sure you get off as much as you can.

“Baby, I could’ve done that,” he smiles as he grabs the towel from you, wiping off what he can from his ruined shirt.

“It’s fine, I wanted to help,” you shrug.

He looks at the grease stain on his finger for a second then back up at you, mischief written all over those hazy brown eyes.

You back up against the wall and raise an eyebrow. “What are you planning, Miller?” you ask suspiciously, holding in a laugh as you see the playful smirk pulling at his lips.

“Me, planning? Never,” he scoffs, the smirk planting firmly against the corners of his mouth. In a flash he cages you against the wall with his thick arms and smears some grease on your jawline. Your eyes go wide as he does it.

“Joel!” you whine as you push against his chest playfully. “That’s not funny,” you say as a giddy laugh escapes your throat.

“It ain’t funny, huh? Then why are you laughing?” he asks as a deep chuckle ruptures from his chest.

“Get it off, now,” you demand playfully as you try to grab the used tan towel from him. He grabs it back from you.

“I got it, I got it,” he laughs as he uses the pristine end of the towel to clean off the grease from your jawline. When he promises he got it, he throws the towel up on the workbench as you reel him in for a kiss. His lips are soft, plush, and they taste like Joel.

“Oh, that reminds me. I got somethin’ for ya,” he says as he breaks the kiss, digging around the back pocket of his dark faded jeans.

“You got me something?” you ask with a surprised lilt to your voice.

“Mhm,” he hums as he grabs his leather wallet and opens it up, digging around to find what he’s looking for.

“What’s the occasion?” you ask curiously, watching him dig around excitedly as his thick fingers push around old receipts and folded up papers.

“Don’t have to be an occasion to get ya somethin’, darlin’,” he chuckles. “But this is kind of an early birthday present, since your birthday’s next month.” He finally finds what he’s looking for and pulls out two tickets that have a matte gloss covering both sides. You flip them over and your eyes go wide at what the tickets say. Two general admission tickets to see Ghost at the Moody Center on November fourteenth sit carefully in your hands. You gulp back tears as you stand frozen in awe as you stare at the glossy tickets.

“Joel…” you gasp out, your eyes probably as wide as an owl right now.

“Thought you’d like ‘em. I know how much you’ve wanted to see ‘em for a long time. Took me a while to find out when they were gonna come to town, so I jumped at the chance when I saw ‘em post new tour dates. And Breaking Benjamin is gonna be their opener. I know how much you like them too and…”

You jump into his arms and wrap your hands around his neck as you thank him over and over again for the best gift ever. You grab his shirt and pull him in for a long kiss as you run your hands through his tousled curls. When you break the kiss, you stand back to look at him in his pretty face as your arms stay wrapped around his neck.

“You’re gonna take me to go see Ghost?” you ask sweetly with big eyes that water faintly.

“I’m gonna take ya to see Ghost,” he nods with a crooked smile as he looks down at you with brown doe eyes that you want to sink right into as they swallow you whole.

You pull him in for another long hug as his strong arms wrap around your waist. “You’re the sweetest, Joel,” you say as you plant your lips on his cheek, staying in his embrace for as long as you can.

“Anything for my girl,” he smiles as he cups your chin, bringing his lips down on yours again. When he pulls back, he keeps his calloused thumb trailing against your jawline, making you dizzy with lovesick thoughts.

“Hey, what’re you doin’ for Halloween?” he asks as he keeps his coffee eyes focused on you, his thumb trailing light circles across your cheekbone.

“I didn’t really have any plans. Sometimes my friends will drag me out to the bars or we’ll find a Halloween party to go to. How come?” you ask, eyebrows raised in curiosity.

“Umm well, you wanna come over to my place? We could watch some scary movies, make some popcorn, order a pizza. I know how much you like those classic horror movies. Would be nice to have some company,” he smiles shyly as the corners of his mouth rise up into a crooked grin. He’s perfect, so perfect.

“Joel Miller asking me to watch scary movies? You don’t even really like them,” you laugh as you hang around his neck, his left hand digging deeper into the side of your hip.

“Yeah, well. You rub off on me a lot. And besides, anything to make my girl happy. I jus’ like spending time with you is all, darlin’,” he drawls, his eyes glistening with flecks of light and dark brown mixing together to make a pretty coffee color. His crooked smile makes a dimple press against his cheek, and the lines against his eyes crinkle into complete warmth that fills the hard lines in his face. You think he’s the prettiest man you’ve ever seen in your life. Because he is.

“Joel… you leave me speechless. Truly. I’m so, so lucky to have you. You’re everything I’ve ever wanted,” you gush to him as you rest your forehead against his.

“No, darlin’. You’re everything I’ve ever wanted.”

You stifle out a laugh and bring your lips down slowly over his, this kiss more slow and romantic than all the other ones. Who would’ve thought you and Joel Miller would’ve ever been a thing? But here you are. Completely and utterly wrapped up in each other, and you just can’t get enough.

You hear the jiggle of the door handle and see the door opening fast into the garage. You jump out of Joel’s grasp and take a few steps back, separating the distance between him even though it’s getting harder to act like the two of you aren’t completely crazy for each other. You’re out of breath, still dizzy from all the emotions of the last few minutes with Joel. And he looks the same, pupils dilated and a flushed face as he looks up at your father.

Your father stops and puts on his glasses to take a closer look. “Joel, you feeling okay? Your face is flushed too. You good?” he asks as he hands Joel a water.

“Yeah. Just got up too fast from under the car. Should be fine,” he nods as he flicks his eyes over to you, the look of affection returning to his brown doe eyes you can’t get enough of.

“Alright, well dinner’s ready if you wanna stay. She made chicken enchiladas tonight, so pretty sure you’ll wanna stay,” he laughs.

“Sure, wouldn’t miss those,” Joel nods as your dad smiles back at him.

“Well, come on. Come and get it while it’s hot.” Your dad turns toward the door and goes through, leaving it open for you and Joel to follow.

Joel takes your hand in his discreetly and leads you through, rubbing the pad of his calloused thumb against the back of your hand, making you feel all tingly and giddy inside. Before he drops your hand, he brushes your knuckles with his lips and places a slow kiss against the back of your hand. You blush on the spot and smile up at him as he returns one back, and then he drops your hand as he walks into the light of the dining room.

Fuck. You have it bad for Joel Miller and you’re falling fast. Very fast.

Halloween Night

You spend the entirety of the afternoon getting ready for your night in with Joel. You shower, douse yourself in Victoria’s Secret Bombshell perfume, and pick out the perfect Halloween costume to wear. You go with a short black mini dress that barely grazes your thighs, the long sleeves hanging off your shoulder that leave your neck and the tops of your shoulders exposed to the cool air.

You carefully fix your hair into loose spiral curls and secure a long pink bow in the back of your silky hair. You apply shimmery pink eyeshadow to the hoods of your eyelids, draw perfect cat eyes with liquid eyeliner, and purse your lips after applying the shiny pink lip gloss. After slipping on a pair of black heels, you look at yourself in the full length mirror and grab the pair of fuzzy black cat ears as you top off your costume. Joel’s going to lose his mind when he sees you in this getup.

After nervously driving over to his house, you now stand on the front of his porch and wait for him to come open the door after you ring the doorbell. You pull on your sleeves, your legs shaking as the cold evening wind hits your bare legs. After a few seconds he opens the door and pulls it back.

“Hey, sweetheart. You…” His voice cuts off as his brown eyes go wide as he lets out a low whistle, slowly taking in your figure from head to toe.

You twirl around slowly for him, letting him see all of you and watch him fall apart. “Trick r treat,” you smirk. “Gonna give me something sweet to eat?” you purr, batting your dark lashes up at him sweetly.

You hear him curse quietly under his breath and watch him rake his hand slowly over his patchy beard. “Goddamn, darlin’. Such a pretty little kitty cat. And that dress, fuck,” he bites out as he gazes his dark eyes over your long legs. “Prettiest girl that ever stood in my doorway, that’s for sure. C’mere,” he calls as he grabs your waist and pulls you into his broad chest, pressing his lips against yours as you chase the taste of his black coffee scent you so desperately love.

When you pull away you click your tongue at him. “Thought you were supposed to have a costume on today?” you say with a raised brow, playfully pushing at his chest.

“This is my costume,” he replies with an amused expression on his face.

Your eyes trail down him slowly. He wears a Halloween black t-shirt, an open red flannel, and dark blue jeans that form against his muscular thighs. You shake your head and pull off your cat ears, placing them over his tousled dark curls as you position it to balance on his head perfectly.

You laugh as you take in the big, strong man with the fluffy cat ears on. “There. Now you have a costume on,” you giggle as he just shakes his head and pulls you inside while he shuts the door behind him.

“Funny, very funny,” he chuckles, a dimple forming against his cheek which makes you only melt more for him. “Wanna take ‘em back now?”

“Nope,” you shake your head, holding a laugh in as you watch him examine his face in the mirror, sighing as he takes in the fuzzy ears atop his head.

“I look ridiculous,” he groans, crossing his arms over his chest as his biceps pull at the red flannel, making you anxious to curl up against them on the couch.

“No, you’re adorable,” you respond, lingering your hand against his soft t-shirt as you curl your hand around it.

“Don’t think so, darlin’. That’s all you. You gorgeous girl,” he says with a low drawl, his caramel eyes honing in as he backs you up against the wooden staircase, wrapping his arms around your waist tightly. Before he leans in, the front door twists open and he pulls away from you in a hurry, putting as much distance between the two of you before Sarah walks in.

Your eyes grow wide as you weren’t expecting her to be here tonight. Sarah gasps as her eyes flick from you to Joel, clearly confused on what’s going on. Her long curls fall over her shoulders as she stands in a Cowboys jersey and black yoga pants with war paint smeared across her cheeks.

She says your name with questions ringing in her tone. “What are you doing here? On Halloween? Shouldn’t you be at a party or something?” she asks as she looks over your outfit carefully, her eyes going over to Joel as she takes in the cat ears that sit perched atop his head.

“Uh dad, why are you wearing those?” she asks as a giggle sounds loudly across the lit up hall.

He throws the ears off and hands them back to you, running a hand through his messy curls as he works to stay composed. “Don’t worry about it,” he says defensively. “And she came over so I could work on her car,” he confirms.

“But you just fixed her car a few days ago?” she says with raised brows, her eyes flicking back and forth between you and him.

“Uhhh yeah. But the light came back on this morning, so I brought it over. Joel said he could take a look real quick. I was just about to head back out. Shouldn’t take too long,” you say with a calm, collected demeanor, giving nothing away.

She eyes you both suspiciously and finally nods. “Okay then. Whatever you say,” she rolls her eyes. “But anyways, look at you! That outfit is so hot, my dad would never let me wear anything like that,” she pouts, crossing her arms over the orange jersey as it scrunches up underneath her.

“Maybe when you’re thirty,” he teases. She just shakes her head and sticks her tongue out at him. He chuckles out a deep laugh in response.

“Whateverrrrr,” she drawls out. She turns back to you and beams her pearly white smile as her curls bounce up and down as she moves. “Bet you’ve got all the boys wrapped around your finger in that outfit,” she smirks out. Joel’s eyes grow a shade darker as he focuses on you, trying his best not to say a word in response.

“Oh, I don’t know about that. Maybe just one,” you smirk, your eyes flicking over to his brown irises as you face Sarah again, careful not to give anything away.

“Oooooo you have a boyfriend? Why haven’t I met him? Is he cute? Is he a good kisser?!” she yells excitedly as she hounds you for information.

“Sarah!” Joel warns, telling her to calm down as his eyes narrow over her.

“Sorry,” she whines, giving you a small smile as you return one to her.

“What are you doin’ back here? Thought you were goin’ to your friend’s to go trick r treatin’?” he asks with raised brows, hands on his hips as his jaw clenches up.

“I am. Just forgot to grab my purse,” she says as she reaches around you and grabs her purple over the shoulder purse and heads back to the door. “Alright, heading back out. Guess I’ll see you sometime soon?” she asks as she looks over at you behind her shoulder.

“Yeah, I’m sure you will,” you nod her way, waving a quick goodbye to her.

“Sarah?” Joel calls before she heads out the door.

“Yeah?” she asks before closing the door.

“Not too late, alright?” Joel says with his brows furrowed together.

“Yeah, be back before midnight,” she promises.

“Sarah?” he calls out again, making her groan at the name.

“Huh?”

“Love you,” he says softly, his eyes crinkling at the corners as his face relaxes into happiness.

She smiles gently and nods. “Love you too, dad.” With that she closes the door and runs off to the burgundy Cadillac that awaits her out front.

You can’t help but smile at Joel, butterflies flitting through your stomach as you take in his soft side. He’s always so careful and gentle with Sarah, always telling her how much he loves her. He’s such a softie, and you can’t help but fall for him even more as you watch him.

“What?” he asks as he snakes his arms around your waist, backing you up against the stairwell again.

“You’re such a softie,” you smile as you wrap your arms around his neck while you run your fingers through the scruff on his neck.

“Only for Sarah and you,” he grins, dropping his lips down to yours as you drink him in again, feeling every surface of his plush lips against yours.

He breaks the kiss after a few seconds and pulls you into the living room. “C’mon. I’ll get the movie started then I’ll call in a pizza for us. Pepperoni?” he asks as he leads you over to the cream colored couch and sits you down against the soft cushions.

“Pepperoni,” you nod. He turns on the tv and pulls his phone out, heading into the kitchen as he calls Pizza Hut and places an order to be delivered to the house.

You take in your surroundings of the darkened room. Vanilla candles sit sprawled against the glass coffee table, the large display of the tv glows in the near distance as the menu comes up for the movie Scream. You hear Joel in the other room hang up the phone as he places it down on the counter.

“You want some popcorn, baby?” he asks from the other room, his voice carrying into the living room like a song you want to put on repeat.

“Mhm and a Dr. Pepper, please,” you call back.

“I gotcha, baby. Be right there.”

When the popcorn is done popping and the cans of soda are taken out of the fridge, he joins you on the couch and places one hand on your thigh as the other one presses play on the remote, making the movie hum to life as the beginning titles show across the lit up screen.

You take a sip of Dr. Pepper and pop some popcorn into your mouth as the buttery taste slides down your throat conveniently. You curl your legs onto the couch and fold yourself against Joel, letting your arms wrap around him as his arm flexes behind you. He pulls you tight to his side as his hand runs gently up and down your arm, causing your body to fully relax against him as you breathe in his cologne and woodsy scent. He smells like a piece of heaven, your piece of heaven.

He takes a drink of his Dr. Pepper and places it on the coffee table, leaning back into you as he adjusts himself into the back of the cushions and lays a soft kiss against the top of your head, making you melt beneath him.

When the scene of Ghostface asking Casey what her favorite scary movie is comes up, Joel mimics his voice and asks you the same thing in a more southern, non scary tone. “What’s your favorite scary movie?” he asks mysteriously as you giggle into his chest.

“You should know this one,” you answer back, eyes flicking up to his as he looks you over carefully before responding.

“Halloween,” he answers automatically.

“Ding, ding, ding. We have a winner,” you yell out, pulling a laugh from deep within his chest as you hear it rumble against your ear.

“Knew it,” he says proudly. “And what’s mine?”

You lay your head in his lap and look up at him, deep brown eyes staring down at you as he awaits your answer. He’s so pretty that it physically hurts. “Joel, The Lord of the Rings does not count as a scary movie,” you laugh out as he smiles down at you.

“Sure it does. It has spiders, orcs, dark themes.”

You push his chest playfully. “It’s fantasy. This is a scary movie,” you remark as you point to the tv, watching Ghostface chase his victim across the yard.

“Yeah, well. Still,” he vocalizes with a sigh. “Would you watch all of ‘em with me?” he asks faintly, his chocolate eyes glazing down to yours.

You turn to him and nod. “Of course I would. I’d watch amything with you,” you reply with a smile.

The corners of his lips curl up into a soft smile and he leans down and kisses you without holding back at all. He tangles his fingers in your curls and you open your mouth up, allowing him to slide his tongue into your mouth as he finds your tongue, dancing around as you drink down the taste of him slowly, passionately.

One hand slides down to your thigh as he grazes calloused fingers up and down your inner thigh, making you breathe heavier as he bites at your lower lip, heating up the room as the two of you start to get lost in each other. His hand reaches up, up, gently sliding the edge of your dress up your thigh, working his way nice and slow to where he wants to be. To your aching center that yearns for his touch.

Before he can make it any further, the doorbell rings, forcing the two of you apart as you lift up off his lap. He sighs as he pushes off the couch, muttering something under his breath that sounds like a complaint of interrupting him when he was busy with you. You giggle at his ramblings and wait till he comes back.

You hear the exchange of pizza and money and can smell the fresh cheese and pepperoni that wafts through the air of the dark living room. After another minute, Joel comes in and sets the pizza on the coffee table, telling you to eat up. You grab a slice and take a bite, letting the warm goodness fill your stomach as you set your eyes on the movie again, trying to keep focus on that instead of the handsome menace of a man that sits next to you.

“So, what’s so attractive about a killer that wears a mask? I don’t get it. With all the viral videos of masked men goin’ around, I don’t get the fuss. I even catch Sarah’s friends talking ‘bout it sometimes.” Joel shakes his head and takes another bite out of his pepperoni slice.

You giggle in response. “I don’t know. Guess that’s kind of a part of the dark romance culture now and can be kinda thrilling? A masked man in the bedroom. I mean, I get why they like it. It’s just something new and intriguing, a little dangerous, exciting even…” You stop there, not wanting to give away that you too might have a mask kink.

“Oh, is that right?” Joel smirks deviously, one of his eyebrows rising higher as he looks directly at you. “You into that shit, too?” he asks curiously as he takes his last bite, lapping his tongue along his lower lip and wiping away the last evidence of red sauce from his mouth. You try your best not to bite your lip, wanting to lick every single scrap of sauce off him slowly.

“I mean, I get the hype. Guess it would be kind of hot,” you blush, looking down at your lap to hide the crimson of your cheeks.

“I knew it,” he says as he claps a big hand on his thigh in knowing. “So you’re saying if I ever bought one of those dumb masks, you’d want me to wear it in the bedroom?” he asks as his eyebrows go up curiously while his hand digs into the back of the couch forcefully.

“I think I’d just prefer to see your handsome face, Joel. Besides, I don’t see you doing that anyways,” you laugh and hit him playfully in the shoulder.

“You’re right, darlin’. Don’t think I’d do that either,” he chuckles.

“But,” you lean into his chest and press your glossy lips to the shell of his ear seductively. “Think I’d let you put me in some handcuffs though,” you purr out as you tug on his earlobe and pull back with a sly smirk on your face.

You see the way his pupils expand and the way his chest rises and falls deeper as the blood flows thicker in the veins of his neck. You see the way he adjusts himself on the couch and clears his raspy throat. You started something, and now he’ll have to finish it.

You smile to yourself triumphantly and turn to face the tv, scooting up to the edge as you reach for your Dr. Pepper and take a refreshing sip, setting it back down on the glass coffee table when you’re done.

You hear Joel’s voice come out raspy and deep behind you. “Is that right, sweetheart? You’d let me handcuff those pretty wrists to my headboard?”

You squirm on the edge of the couch and press your legs together, feeling the heat start in your center like a volcano that’s about to rupture. “Mhmm,” you hum out carefully, trying to suppress a moan from coming out of your throat.

“Hmmm.” He leans over and presses his lips against the shell of your ear, his hot breath breathing down your neck and making you feel things you can’t control. “Think I need to go buy a pair of handcuffs then, sweetheart. Show you all the ways I can make you cum while you’re tied to my bed. What do ya think of that, huh? Sounds… erotic as hell,” he whispers darkly in your ear, leaving you panting for more as you keep your eyes focused on the movie on the big screen, watching Ghostface run down the stairs after his next victim mercilessly. He presses a gentle kiss against your cheek and scoots back into the couch, leaving you breathless and wanting.

Just when you think he’s done teasing you, he starts playing with your pink ribbon and runs his hands through your long waves, making your heartbeat gallop like the hooves of a racing Clydesdale against his touch.

“Such a pretty pink ribbon in your hair, baby,” he teases, starting to tug on your hair harder now as he pulls lightly on the curls.

“Mhm, it is,” you reply with a breath held.

“You know I love when you do your hair like this, in these curls. So long and soft to the touch. Can easily do this.” He tugs your head back and pushes you down into the couch. Your hands grip the side of the couch while your ass is up in the air, exposing all for Joel to see.

You feel his hands raise your skirt up to your hips, exposing the meaty flesh of your ass as you feel the cool air brush against the backs of your bare thighs. You hear Joel hum out in approval as he fixes his massive hands over your ass, one hand trailing down as his fingers brush the soaked material of your lace which makes a groan escape your lips.

“White lace, huh? Looks s’good on you, sweetheart. Already so wet for me, ain’t ya? Look at you drip, so fuckin’ wet, baby. Goddamn,” he whistles as he takes his thumb and trails a long line down your center, gathering more slick against the material. You whine out and he chuckles lightly.

“S’right, baby. Gonna make you really whine in a minute,” he murmurs as he slides the wet lace down your legs, gently unclasping your black heels and dropping them to the floor as he unhooks the lace from around your ankles and disposes them on the ground, leaving you completely bare for him to look at.

He slides his calloused thumb over your wetness, and you shiver with need. “Joel, please,” you beg, another whine purring out of you as you feel the pad of his thumb ghost across your clit, leaving you with a pent up cry in your chest.

“What do ya need, baby? Tell me,” he asks, barely touching your folds with the tops of his fingertips which makes you clench up over nothing.

“Need your fingers, your mouth,” you beg, your voice high-pitched from want. With need.

“That so, darlin’?” he teases as he spreads your folds with the tips of his index and middle finger, sliding them up until you can feel them pressed against your clit, drawing slow, meticulous circles as you hear the wetness gathering on his fingers.

“Oh, fuck,” you moan as you dig your fingers into the side of the couch, clawing your light pink fingernails as a way to get ahold of yourself before you’re lost into a sea of lust.

“S’right, sweetheart. I know exactly what you need,” he coos.

Before he takes it any further, he drops his hand from your center and lays back against the couch, leaving you out of breath and waiting. “Why’d you stop?” you whine as you turn in the direction he’s in and see him smirking up at you with trouble written all over his face.

“C’mere,” he calls as he curls his index finger in his direction, beckoning you to come over to him.

You look questionably at him and raise a brow. “What?” you ask as you slowly scoot your legs over his, dropping down on his hips carefully.

He clicks his tongue and shakes his head. “Not there, sweetheart. Up here,” he smirks as he points to his face. Your eyes go wide at the meaning.

“You want me to…” you trail off, unable to finish your sentence.

“S’right. Want you to sit on my face. C’mon now,” he smirks, a devilish grin taking over his face as his eyes grow dark. He places his hands on your hips as he slides you up his broad chest, stopping just before you get to his neck. You pause right there, blushing as all of a sudden you get extremely nervous.

“Joel…” you choke out, unable to finish your sentence.

“Don’t be shy, baby,” he says gently, lifting your dress above your hips as it exposes your bareness for him. He drags his eyes down your center and licks his lips, his eyes blown out as you feel his breath pick up beneath his chest. “Such a pretty pussy, baby. Drippin’ and screamin’ my name,” he groans as his eyes devour you in full. “C’mon now. Sit on my face,” he demands.

You gulp and scoot your hips up, hovering just above his mouth as you stay there, nervous and turned on at the same time.

“I didn’t say hover, sweetheart. I said sit,” he demands, digging his hands into your hips as he tries to lower you down, but you hold back, afraid to crush him.

“But won’t I crush you?” you ask with your breath caught in your throat.

“The only thing that’s gonna crush me is if you don’t sit the fuck down and ride on my face. Now sit!” he growls as he forces your weight down on top of him, the curls above your mound sitting atop his curved nose as he breathes you in deeply.

He inhales your savoury scent and drags his rough tongue all the way from your dripping hole to the tops of your folds, catching the end of your clit as you whine out with need.

“Goddamn, baby. Taste and smell s’good, darlin’. Hold on tight. Not gonna stop till I make you cum all over my face, not gonna stop till you moan my name, not gonna stop till you’re all mine,” he growls as he hooks his arms around your thighs and dives back in.

He slowly drags his tongue over all of you, slotting himself between your folds and lapping meticulous circles around your puffy clit. You feel more slick spill out of you and feel him take your bundle of nerves into his mouth, sucking and slurping as every single nerve ending comes alive against his mouth. When he releases, he shoves his tongue into your wet hole, plunging into your core as you vibrate and fall apart against him.

You twist your fingers into his tousled curls and moan his name with a lull, lost in complete bliss as he works his tongue up and down up and down, making the room foggy with the smell of your arousal and the loud moans you’re giving him. “Joellll, fuck,” you moan as you pull at his hair, sliding yourself up and down his mouth as you ride his face exactly like he wants you to.

He groans at your movements, groans at the way you tug on his curls as his tongue works and works to make you fall apart around him. He slaps your ass hard and digs his nails into your thighs as he speeds up his hot tongue.

He’s pulling, sucking, munching at your clit as you feel the building orgasm. You feel it start in your spine, sliding down to rest in the pit of your stomach as you’re almost there, feel it about to take flight as your toes curl and your fingers slip deeper into his wild locks. He knows you’re close, knows exactly what he’s doing. He can’t speak, too far gone in pleasuring you with his mouth, too deep with sucking your throbbing bundle of nerves again and again as his nail beds prod into your flesh.

He loves to feel you come apart, loves to taste your arousal drip down his throat, loves to hear you moan and thrive while you’re about to come undone, and loves when you pull his hair and moan his name while he has his way with you.

You grind your pussy against his mouth, feel how soaked you’re getting him, and it just makes you that much closer to spilling yourself all over him. You feel him groan against your folds, hear him practically whisper the words into your ear as he licks and sucks you repeatedly into his drooling mouth.

Atta girl. There ya go.

Say my name, sweetheart.

C’mon. Give it to me. That’s a good fuckin’ girl.

He pulls your throbbing clit into his mouth and sucks hard, setting off every single nerve ending in your body. He sucks nice and slow and you feel yourself fall apart right there on his hot tongue. You roll your hips and feel the heat slide down your body as you clench over nothing and spill yourself all over his mouth, hearing his groan as he laps up all your slick while you fist his hair roughly through your fingers.

You take a minute to let your panting die out and wait for your body to come back down to earth after your intense face riding orgasm. When you slide back to rest on his chest, you see just how drenched and glistening his mouth and beard are from all your slick and cum. And fuck is it hot.

He smiles up at you as he catches his breath, his blown out pupils relaxing into pure brown warmth as he watches you with admiration on his face. It’s probably the most beautiful sight you’ve ever seen in your entire life.

“Rode me s’good, baby. Love the taste of you,” he hums, his crows feet crinkling up at the corners of his eyes as you get lost in those pools of warm honey.

“Yeah, well, I have an excellent instructor with an experienced tongue,” you purr, winking down at him with a big smile pulling at the corners of your mouth.

He chuckles and responds, “Always happy to put my tongue to good use. Especially for you.”

You bite your lower lip and grin down at him, completely entranced by him. You’re so lucky, so fucking lucky. The luckiest girl in the world.

You shift off him and start to turn the other way as you move your legs away from his chest. Before you can crawl to the other side of the couch, he grabs your calves and pulls you back toward him. “Now where do you think you’re goin’, sweetheart?” he asks with an edge to his voice.

“Huh? What do you mean?” you ask as his large hands wrap around your ankles, pulling you back up to him as he tangles you around the roots of him, firmly planting you to his chest.

“M’not done with you yet, baby girl. You’re gonna give me another one,” he purrs, his deep voice thundering out of his chest like a bear ready to attack.

“Another one? But I’m… I’m so sensitive and…”

He shuts you up quick. “No, you’re not too sensitive. I know what you can handle, and you’re gonna fuckin’ take it like the good girl I know you are,” he growls as he drags you back up to him, hovering just over the edge of his mouth as you feel his hot breath connect with your wetness that’s already dripping for him again.

Fuck.

He wraps his strong arms around your hips and tugs you down where your folds are connecting with his plush lips, and the feeling is already overwhelming. But you need it, need him. You suck in a breath as he licks a long stripe up the entirety of you and you moan out for more.

“Need you so bad, daddy. Please,” you beg, digging your hands into the thighs of his dark jeans as your nails embed in him.

“I’m gonna give it to ya, sweetheart. Daddy’s gonna lick every inch of that pretty pussy,” he purrs as he licks another stripe up your folds, spreading you out to devour your needy clit.

You groan out and dig into his jeans, needing something to latch onto. When you open your eyes and look down, you see his bulge pressed against the thick fabric of his jeans, begging to be released.

You take your hand and grab around his thickness, working him through the denim of his pants. You hear him groan under your touch and bite your lip at the idea that dances through your mind. You’re going to sixty-nine with him. This is what’s going to send you over the edge.

You carefully unzip his zipper and free his bulging erection, taking him in your hand as you see the precum release from his slit and lap over the edges of his tip, working your hand nice and slow over him to spread the precum over his entirety.

His skin’s soft in your hand as you slide it back and forth over his large length, feeling the thick veins that spider around him that end just underneath the tip of his head. His head is red and swollen and screaming for you to taste him, and you’re happy to oblige.

Just as you meet your lips at his head and slide your tongue across his drenched tip, he shutters underneath you and lifts your hips just enough to speak as you feel the salty precum slide down your throat all hot and bubbly like.

“Fuck, baby. What’re you doin’?” he says with clenched teeth as you squeeze his cock, gliding your hand up and down his shaft as you turn to face him, smirking down at him with a devilish grin forming on your lips.

“What do you mean what am I doing? Isn’t it obvious? We’re sixty-nining,” you purr, licking your lower lip as you watch his pupils blow out into big black pits.

“Sixty-nine, is that right? You’re a dirty girl, kitty cat,” he smirks as he takes his index and middle fingers and pushes them inside you nice and slow, curling his fingers up to hit that spongy soft spot that makes you clench up against him and moan out slowly.

“That’s right, right there. That feel good?” he asks as you bite your lip and nod at him, choking out another moan as he curls his fingers higher, setting a wildlife throughout your entire core.

“Yes, daddy. Feels incredible,” you groan as you rock against his fingers, letting your own hand twist up and down his hard, wet length in your hand. You want to taste him, now.

“Fuckin’ sixty-nine. And with the prettiest girl in the world? Shit, baby. You’ve got me wrapped around your finger like that pretty pink bow in your hair,” he says with a gentle laugh that sounds a little like unbelief in his voice.

You giggle out a laugh as you stare at him as he smiles up at you between your legs. “Got you wrapped around my finger, do I?”

“Mhm, that’s right, sweetheart. All mine,” he says with a crooked grin curling up over his lips, sending your heart into overdrive.

“All yours,” you confirm with a soft smile.

He takes a minute to look at you, warm eyes focused on your face softly. Then his eyes shift into something dark and carnal as he brings you back down to his mouth.

“Well, go on, darlin’. I’ll take care of this needy pussy while you show me how good you can suck my cock,” he smirks, letting his fingers release from you as he wraps his arms around your thighs and pulls you down on him again. You choke out a moan as his tongue presses deep into your folds and up your dripping hole.

You focus back on his hard cock in front of you and go back down, circling his head as you lap up his salty precum and then dive down on him, taking his long length in your mouth as your hand slides up and down him slowly, savouring his taste on your tongue.

You take him as far in your mouth as you can, making sure you hit the back of your throat and choke on him while tears spill down your face as you take him deep in your throat over and over again.

You hear his moans fill the room as his tongue circles your clit, hearing your own moans get washed out by the sound of you gagging on his thick cock as your spit drips down his length and into the coarse hairs that cover his base.

The wet, sticky, messy sounds of Joel eating you out and the gagging sounds of you deep throating his massive cock again and again mix together, forming a wet, harmonious melody that reverberates off each other. It causes more slick to slide down your center as he licks and sucks and pulls on your needy clit. It’s too much, too fucking hot. This is the best, most intimate thing you’ve ever done. But you have a feeling this won’t be the end of it because he’ll want more, you’ll want more. It’s only going to get hotter, more primal, more possessive as you continue.

Joel Miller may be a fucking menace, but you’re no better. You’re a temptress spinning your web as you trap him, seducing him to you, pulling him and making him yours. Both of you wrapping each other into a complete tangle until both of you are completely, irrevocably bound to one another. Just like a moth to a flame, you’re pulled to him as he is to you. Two hearts beating wildly for the other just the same.

The room is hot and sticky as both of you get lost in each other’s ecstasy. Moans echoing off the walls as you both are close to orgasm, both so fucking high off each other that you never want to come down. You just want to stay where your bodies are panting in sweat as you continuously get lost in each other’s bliss and euphoria. You’ve never experienced a high quite like this before. Never experienced anything ever like this. It’s just you and Joel, two bodies completely consumed in the other with no plans of ever slipping away from each other. It’s just Joel.

Joel, Joel, Joel.

You start to clench up, feel your walls fluttering as they’re about to spill, feel the way he sucks your clit into his giving mouth as his tongue travels up the entirety of you, covering you in his own spit and drool. And it’s so fucking hot.

“C’mon, baby girl. Give it to me. Cum for me. Wanna feel it,” he groans as he pulls your clit into his mouth and sucks hard. And that’s when you come apart for him, that’s when you feel yourself let go.

You release your lips from his cock and feel a string of drool fall from your lips and attach to the tip of his head, thinking of nothing as you throw back your head back and moan his name as it echoes across the room. “Joellllll, fuck,” you moan as you release white hot liquid all over his mouth. He’s greedy and takes it all, licking you clean as you hear his mouth drink you up, leaving nothing behind.

You rub up and down his cock faster, feeling him stiffen underneath you as his breath goes shallow. Ragged moans leave his chest as he grips your thighs tight and moans out your name slowly.

“Oh fuck, oh shit,” he slurs as you lap at his tip, teasing him before you take him again.

“That’s it, daddy. Go on and cum for me. Wanna take you all in my mouth,” you purr as you wrap your mouth around him again, bobbing up and down as you deep throat him, hearing the gagging noises that send him over the edge. He’s right there, just on the edge. You go down again and hold your mouth there as you take him deep, feeling your throat constrict around his thick cock.

“Baby, m’gonna… gonna cum… oh, fuck,” he moans as you feel thick ropes of cum hit the back of your throat, swallowing his large load down as the salty, delicious taste dances down your tastebuds.

You work over his length nice and slow, not stopping till he’s finished cumming. And just when you think he’s done, he surprises you and pours out more inside your mouth.

You see his hand shoot to his sweaty forehead as he grabs at his messy curls, see his eyes roll back as he moans your name again and again. It sounds like music to your ears, something angelic and addictive sinking into your soul at just the sound of him cumming. It’s your sanctuary, your favorite tune in the world. And you’d never get enough of it, never.

When he’s finished sending his spend down your throat, you slowly release your mouth from him as drool cakes your chin. His cock is so messy with spit and drool that you blush at the job you just did on him.

You feel his chest heave up and down underneath you, his breathing gradually slowing down little by little. You take a second to catch your own breath, gulping down breaths of fresh air that smells like him. There’s something beautiful in the rhythm of both of your breaths in sync. It’s almost like you share the same heartbeat, something so intimate about it that you can’t even shake the euphoric feeling. It’s the best thing you’ve ever experienced. He’s the best thing. Joel is.

After a few minutes he helps you sit up as he pulls his briefs and jeans back up over his softening cock. When he sits up, he grabs your lace panties from the floor and pulls them up over your legs, securing them back into place over your overstimulated pussy. He pulls down your dress over your thighs and lays back down against the couch, bringing you down with him.

You sink into his side and wrap an arm around his chest as he cradles you in his arms gently. He takes his hand and runs it up and down your arm, leaving goosebumps over every square inch of skin he marks as his own. And this feels right, all of this feels right. He feels right.

He presses a kiss against your forehead and showers you with the perfect aftercare cuddles. He’s so good, the absolute best at aftercare. It’s always been your favorite ever since the first time he did it with you in this very living room that you sit in now. Joel Miller might be dominant in the bedroom, but he’s a big softie underneath it all. He’s the perfect combination of rough around the edges and pure honey everywhere else.

“Did s’good for me, sweetheart. Always do s’good for me,” he purrs as he places another gentle kiss over your forehead. “My perfect girl,” he whispers, and you can’t help but smile at the words. My perfect girl.

“Mhm, your perfect girl,” you whisper back as you snuggle into him more, sinking into his chest as his soft t-shirt scrapes along your jawline.

“I like the sound of that,” he laughs, his raspy chuckle that sounds like a symphony of guitars in your ear.

“Me too,” you whisper back.

As the movie comes to an end, Joel grabs the controller and puts on Halloween as you hear the theme song play from the speakers. He relaxes his arm back down around you and pulls you closer to where your cheek is nestled in the crook of his neck as he takes his other hand and runs his fingers through your waves. And this might be your favorite thing ever. Being in his arms. You never want him to let go. Never ever.

You feel yourself start to slip into unconsciousness, feel yourself relax into him as the darkness pulls you under. You don’t know when, you don’t know how, but after a few minutes of cuddling you and Joel fall asleep, wrapped in each other’s warmth as sleep takes you down fast.

And then something happens, something unexpected and unwelcome.

After what seems like hours of sleep, you’re woken up to the harsh lights of the living room being turned on. You jolt awake and sit up, blinking a few times to get your eyes situated to the fluorescent lights above. Joel rubs his eyes and follows your lead, adjusting to being woken up from a deep sleep. Your jaw drops when you see who’s standing in the corner of the room. Sarah.

Oh, fuck.

“I knew it, I knew!” she jumps up and down as her long curls bounce up and down along with her, a big smile spread across her face as she can’t seem to keep her excitement down.

“Shit,” Joel mutters under his breath as your eyes go wide in panic. You try to speak but you can’t. You’re frozen, not knowing what to do or say. You’ve been caught red handed.

“I knew it all along! This is so exciting! You and dad? Oh my God, I’m a genius,” she squeals as she jumps again.

“Sarah! Calm down,” Joel warns as his eyes narrow slightly. Sarah stops jumping but continues beaming at the both of you. You feel like your heart is about to come out of your throat. Your dad. What if she tells your dad?

“Sarah, you’re not gonna tell my parents are you? They’d kill me,” you rush out with your breathing uncontrolled. It feels like you're about to throw up with the knot that’s in your stomach. Joel notices your panic immediately and does what he can to calm you down.

“Hey, hey, look at me,” he urges as he cups your chin and turns you toward him, his deep brown eyes almost calming you down. Almost. “She’s not gonna tell them. Right, Sarah?” he asks as he turns to her, giving her that knowing look.

She imitates her lips being a zipper and acts like she zips them tight. “My lips are sealed. Promise,” she nods as she looks back and forth between the two of you, your anxiety slowly calming down at the confirmation.

“See? She won’t say a word. It’s gonna be okay, darlin’,” he confirms as he soothes you over, one hand rubbing your thigh to calm you down. You nod in acceptance.

Sarah calls your name and you look up. “I’ve noticed the way dad’s looked at you for a while now. Been wondering when he was going to make a move,” she laughs, shaking her head. “He’s liked you for a long time, even if he never told me. I could see it in his eyes.”

You just look over at Joel and smile at him. “Yeah, I’ve liked him for a long time, too,” you say quietly. Joel meets your eyes and smiles at you, the corners of his lips curling up to form those perfect dimples again.

“This is so cute, I think I’m gonna throw up,” she says as she claps her hands together.

“Alright, alright. Go on up and go to bed, it’s past your bedtime,” he says as he points at the clock that says five past midnight.

“Okay,” she groans. “Night, love birds,” she sings as she leaves the room and heads up the stairs.

“You sure she won’t say anything?” you ask nervously, anxiety still swirling through your gut.

“If there’s one thing she’s good at, it’s keeping secrets. So, think we’re safe,” he confirms as you blow out a breath you had been holding.

“That’s a relief. I guess she was bound to find out at some point, right?”

“Yeah, guess you’re right,” he says as he nods his head. His calloused thumb shifts against your jawline and he leans in and presses his lips against yours. You lean into him and get lost in his scent, in his abundance of warmth. When you hear the creak of the stairs, you pull apart from his lips fast.

Joel leans over the couch annoyed and peeks up at the stairs. “Sarah?” he asks in a deep voice, warning her to stop spying.

“Uhh, yeah?” she asks nervously.

“Bed. Now,” he growls. She obeys and runs up the stairs, not wasting a second of time. He sighs in annoyance. “She’s never gonna let me live this down,” he groans.

“Hey,” you say as you grab his hand and entangle your fingers in his. “I’ll be right there with you through it.”

He rasps out a chuckle and looks you in the eyes, calm brown eyes returning to look at you. “You want me to take you home? I can drop your car off tomorrow.”

You shake your head no. “Can I stay here tonight? Don’t really want to go home. I’d rather stay with you.”

“‘Course, sweetheart. You always have a place here.” He pushes a curl behind your ear and pulls you back in, planting his lips against yours as a warm wave of peace and serenity cloud your mind.

“C’mon. Let’s get you up to bed.” He pulls you up and picks you up bridal style as you squeal out and wrap your arms around his neck. You kiss his cheek and tuck your head against the crook of his neck as he carries you up the stairs. And somehow you know it’ll be okay. Things will turn out okay because you’re with Joel.

So when he pulls you tight against him under the sheets and you're wrapped in his t-shirt with his arms around you, you know you’re in good hands. Nothing can ruin what you and Joel have. Not even your dad. Joel has your whole heart and nothing can change that now.

Tags: @amyispxnk @janaispunk @blueseastorm @joelmillersblog @joelalorian @heartstoptrying @littlevenicebitch69 @getitoutofmymindwrites @akah565 @keylimebeag @dugiioh @laurrrra @untamedheart81 @roostersforevergirl @itsokbbygrl @pedrostories

Part 4

[ohwaitimthewriter]

The Memory Keeper

Chapter 5: Legacy.

Pairing: Noa x human!reader

Warnings: Description of character death. Description of injuries. Some violence.

Words: 5.6k+ (like... how??)

Summarize: A woman, allowed to live as long as the virus keeps running through her body, living on autopilot for 260 years, is going to see her life takes a new turn, finding hope in something that might come to put an end to her wandering.

A/N: For the love of God, IT IS FINALLY HERE! And don't ask me how he knows about Picasso. He just knows. (Nope, I'm not talking about who you think I'm talking about). I hope you'll like it!

Enjoy your reading 😊

The Memory Keeper Masterlist / Planet of The Apes Masterlist

Narrating wasn't the problem. It never had been. Even if the tears always joined the party and your throat formed such tight knots that it became difficult to form the necessary words. You'd done it before, years ago, you'd done it.

"Where is he?" Noa had asked. "Dead." You had answered, in a whisper.

You were vigorously plucking, blade by blade, the grass you had been sitting on. Each blade pulled from the ground stood for every tear your body wanted to cry, but which you swallowed before they could form.

You didn't really understand why he wanted to know when you had told him you'd found a horse for him, that it would only take a few days, just a few days, and then they could both, he and Raka, go about their business.

So why did he want to know?

At that simple word, you noticed that his eyes were searching for something in the depths of his thoughts, and he suddenly crouched down in front of you, almost waiting for you to unravel the whole story of this Caesar. This Caesar whose name he had already heard through the masks, through Raka, but who made no sense to him when it came to you. This Caesar who had to be someone else. This Caesar who couldn't be the previous two.

Noa watched as you mentally counted the blades of grass you plucked from the ground and tossed a little further. Your eyes were telling a story. And with the short time he'd spent with you, he knew how rare it was. But this Caesar could obviously work miracles, and that made him curious.

You knew that Noa was tilting his head more and more, as you tried to lower yours even further to the ground, almost wishing you could dig a hole and bury yourself in it to prevent him from watching a film you'd like to forget. The heavy images in your head acted like weights, and gravity became a constant struggle not to curl up completely on the ground.

…

Dead.

And those heavy images that kept flashing by. Such heavy images…

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You had seen him fall.

Maurice at his side, one hand desperately stroking Caesar's leg, almost as if for comfort, who had just collapsed on one side. The lifeless body. The soothed face.

The smile you had flashed just a second earlier dropped as your blurred vision took over, and you suddenly felt as if you were drowning.

Maurice sang a series of hoots in such distress that it didn't take long for the apes to realize what was happening, as Rocket rushed to Caesar's lifeless body. You had wanted to do the same, running to him, trying something, a cardiac massage, blowing air into his lungs, anything, but your legs wouldn't let you.

Because they knew better.

So they gave up on you. You ignored the pain of your knees hitting the rocky ground. Your eyes searched frantically for his as if he were suddenly going to open them and reassure everyone that he was all right. And the more you tried to see his green eyes again, the more your throat tightened into a knot so intense it hurt. The walls of your throat twisted with such force that swallowing became impossible.

He was going to open them. He had to. He must open them.

But seconds passed like minutes without anything happening, and a stab slowly sank into your chest, forcing you to tighten your arms around it as you refused to take your eyes off Caesar. The sharp pain coursing through your body took its time to twist your stomach, and a sob churned in your mouth, unable to escape.

If his eyes didn't open, maybe you'd see his ribcage rise. Maybe you'd catch a glimpse of his lungs, hidden behind the muscles of his chest, gasping for oxygen. Maybe you'd missed it, so if you lingered long enough, maybe you'd see his chest inflate, if only a little, just a tiny bit… " Inflate, please inflate" you addressed it in silence, wishing that his ribcage would somehow prove to you that he was still there.

But his thorax remained silent.

Then your eyes travelled back to his face. And there was no longer any doubt. His features, so familiarly hardened by a scowl that naturally stuck to him after all those years of fighting, protecting and providing for his clan, had relaxed into a serenity that had belonged only to Cornelia, only to his sons, to behold. A serenity that Caesar, on occasions when you respectfully teased the hell out him, would secretly grant you.

There could be no more doubt as your tears spilled down your cheeks, unable to move in front of Caesar, in front of the one who had decided to keep you safe.

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On the rare days when you were reminded that you'd never see again the green eyes of the ape who had accepted you as one of his own, you wondered if there was anything you could have done. Maybe if you'd pushed harder on your leg muscles, even if it meant straining them, maybe you could have taken action and tried to bring him back to life. If you'd seen the crossbow bolt embedded deep between his ribs earlier, if you could have removed it… And as is often the case, with "ifs" a whole world could be remade.

You kept pecking at the blades of grass with your fingers, and as you didn't seem to want to delve any deeper into the story being told behind your veiled eyes, Noa decided that maybe you needed some help to talk.

"How?"

Noa was careful with his words, lest you shut down entirely and the emotions he could easily read on your face fade back into oblivion. It was easier when he could see your emotions, because he could adjust his attitude accordingly and skillfully get what he wanted.

You signed a single word to him, not finding the heart to pronounce it, "killed."

The wheels of his brain began to spin and Noa suddenly wondered if your Caesar hadn't been killed like his father had been, by the same apes who had plundered his village. The same apes he was trying to find to bring his clan back home, whatever the cost. The pieces of the puzzle were beginning to fit together in his head. He wanted to know the story, he was becoming almost impatient, perhaps lacking empathy for the loss you had suffered and which obviously affected you greatly, but he was eager to know if he was right in his train of thought.

His eyes were drawn to your hip, on which you seemed to be leaning less in your cross-legged position. He had the impression that it was higher up, while your posture was slightly tilted to the left, as if your pelvis on the right was raised by an inch or two.

What if you'd been injured when your Caesar died?

Noa moved his arm up, and the movement drew your eyes to follow his hand, slightly folded in on itself, as it pointed to your hip.

"Wounded." he observed. "When your Caesar died?"

Surely, if you confirmed his words, it would be one step closer to the accuracy of his hypothesis.

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Screams. Piercing. Human. It didn't take overdeveloped hearing to hear them, and Koba gloated at the thought of a human suffering.

It hadn't been his first intent to go and check. Caesar had asked him to keep an eye on the outer perimeter of the forest to ensure there were no intruders, and that was exactly what he intended to do. At least, until those cries disturbed his watch.

A human female.

The agony that struck his sensitive eardrums was only a few hundred meters away, and he would have liked to have left her where she was, no matter what happened to her, the piercing pain of her groans made it clear that she would eventually lose her life, and consequently she was no threat to the colony.

Koba began to move from branch to branch when a deep voice, this time a male, bellowed angrily, and suddenly the sobs echoing through the valley seemed to be muffled.

This, however, was more annoying.

The leather around your wrists, head and ankles was sticking to your skin. Drops of sweat beaded on your forehead and puddled around the strap that sheared your skull. You felt like your skin was burning under the leather edges and you swore that the moment they took it off, your skin would stick to the torturous object, peeling off like the skin of an orange. You could only grit your teeth at the thought.

Tears mixed freely with sweat and you weren't sure which one was burning your eyes. All you knew was that the drops were tumbling down your temples and pooling in the hollow of your ear before cascading in a tiny waterfall down your lobe and crashing onto the surgical table that supported your body.

You stared up at the blurred ceiling above you, and even if you wanted to look away, the leather strap around your head prevented you from making any movement.

It would soon be over.

You reassured yourself as best you could, the scientists' words still engraved in your mind:

"What if… we combined?" One of them had suggested as if you weren't already there in the room. "Combined?" asked his colleague. "Dislocated knee and fractured hip." Explained the first. "We know about dislocation. The tissues regenerate in 2 days if we put the limb back where it belongs, and in 4 days if we let it hang."

The second explained, laughing as he recalled an experiment that was successful for him, but a disaster for you, "The other day, Weston even had the idea of tying a rope to her dislocated elbow to see if the pull exerted would make healing longer or impossible, and this dumbass almost succeeded in making her lose her elbow!" he sneered. "She must have had a tough time of it!" The first man's eyes widened, but he couldn't help chuckling. "She's being paid for it." The second man shrugged.

Paid for. As if you'd had any choice. That day when the ALZ-113 test came back positive. That day when, to the utter disbelief of everyone in the room, including you, they'd gone ballistic, because how could it be? How could you be positive for this virus without any symptoms? Without degrading yourself mentally? Physically? How could you still stand up and not cough your lungs out?

You were only supposed to be immune. You were part of the group that had been commandeered for several months to try and understand why some people couldn't be infected. This group of people selected after lengthy observation following exposure to the virus.

For 3 months. 3 months with a virus test at the end of each.

1 month of exposure to the virus.

No symptoms. Test. Test negative.

1 additional month.

Still no symptoms. Test negative.

1 last month.

Free of symptoms. Test.

Positive.

And the panic was on.

Human vileness hardly surprised you anymore, but these scientists were bound to receive some awards for their cruelty.

"Okay, here's what I propose, we try the hip dislocation but we're going to offer a bit of a challenge to the body." The second man replied. "A challenge?" The first one asked. "You're new to this program, so you don't know everything yet, but we've taken it to the next level, no longer trying to find out what the virus regenerates or how it does it…"

The second scientist then grabbed a hammer from the makeshift workbench set up earlier, and your pupils suddenly dilated at the sight of the tool swinging at the end of a string, dangling from the scientist's finger. Your blood ran cold and tension began to contract all your muscles, unconsciously preparing for the shock.

"We're looking for the limits." The scientist concluded, gripping the hammer handle firmly. "I… I'll get the anesthetic." The first scientist stated, however the more experienced one stopped him. "It only wastes the product. Remember, the virus regenerates any cell it considers sick or dead."

Oh, and how you wished with all your being that you could just fight back and rip off those straps whose leather had become all too familiar to your skin. Today, it was going to hurt. You knew it, it wasn't new, it always hurt and your only line of defense was to grit your teeth and pray that it would happen quickly. But that hammer. Oh you could only imagine, no, your body already knew how much raw, stabbing pain it would cause. Even a stab was more bearable. Even before the flat of the hammer made contact with the targeted part, you could feel your bones cracking and shattering. Each splinter of bone would sink into your muscles, your inner epidermis, and why not shear off the more protuberant veins running along your thigh and hip.

You could feel your muscles tensing in anticipation, to the point of twisting the joints of your pelvis, as if your body were trying to hide as far as possible those bones already well protected under the layer of muscle, fat and skin that formed a bulwark between them and the outside world.

The two scientists must have thought you were a ridiculous worm, squirming to get your body away from their painfully intrusive hands, but the straps were doing their job. The tinkling of the straps, as you tried to remove your wrists from their grip, drew the attention of the scientists, who stared at you scornfully. A ridiculous worm that could not escape the boot that would crush it.

The first impact ripped through your flesh and your face contorted into a grimace, a taste of iron spread through your mouth and the pressure you exerted on your jaw to keep it shut sent a shower of needles down your cheeks and up to your temples, where the blood was pounding a beat that made you wish you could bang your head on the floor.

You didn't want to give them the pleasure of hearing your screams. Not now, not on the first blow.

If they wanted to hear them, they'd have to come and get them.

〰️〰️〰️〰️〰️〰️〰️〰️〰️〰️〰️〰️〰️〰️〰️〰️〰️〰️〰️〰️〰️

It may have been a long time ago, but the memory remained imperishable. How could it be when it was responsible for your constant limping.

Your body had been through a lot. But it had always been able to repair itself, patch itself up and regenerate every part, every cell, every bone in such an admirable way that you sometimes doubted you'd ever really been harmed.

But there was still this hip. A little wobbly, a little too rigid. And the screams. Oh, the screams, they had finally got them, and the delight on their faces left a bitter, vomit-inducing taste in your mouth.

In your fervent desire to strip the earth of its blades of grass, you had grabbed a flower stem and were working hard to remove each petal. A quick tug, a hammer blow, another quick tug, another hammer blow. Eighteen. You had counted eighteen.

The silent conversation you were having with yourself was mind-boggling to Noa. If he'd known earlier that fixing your frame was going to give him such an outpouring of expression and life from you, he'd have taken it upon himself to break it and fix it in the process much sooner.

If he had done so, maybe he'd never have had to deal with the wave… no, the tsunami of emotions he had never really been ready to receive. It was yet another piece of the puzzle he was missing. How could an Echo be both so unexpressive and yet overflowing with feelings like a river after a big storm?

Noa almost wanted to come closer, still crouching down, wanting to force you to answer his question as if he could pull the wool over your eyes with his mere proximity. "Tell me I'm right." That was what he wanted most when he hadn't even shared his train of thought with you. Because if he was right, your behavior would have found a logic.

The despair of seeing your world crumble helplessly.

The guilt of not having been able to protect.

The shame of not having been strong enough.

Emptiness, faced with the inert body of a loved one.

This would make sense to Noa because he himself had felt them. But his entire pyramid of thought collapsed in a single one of your sentences.

"No, before I even knew him."

If Noa could have cut into your skull to see what was going on inside, you were sure he would have. Noa squinted, trying to make sense of a story for which he had only scraps of words.

"Where's his clan?" Noa attempted another question and to his surprise, your answer was quick to ring in his ears. "I don't know, I left."

Oh.

It would have taken a trained eye to notice, but Noa puffed out his chest slightly, proud to have asked the right question. You'd had a life before living with his clan for a while, at least, long enough to have such feelings when your Caesar died.

And then, his line of thought came to an abrupt end.

OH.

You. An Echo. Living with a clan of apes.

An Echo and apes, sharing the same living space.

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Watching you go back and forth between the arms of the conscious and unconscious was quite enthralling for Koba.

Even though he could feel the bile rising in his throat, he had to admit that you had put up a good fight. Your human vanity had been far too great to succumb so quickly to your abusers. If the men in white had come to a tragic end under Koba's murderous fists and fangs, he hadn't been shy about admiring for a while the sadistic game those men had started with you.

There was nothing more delectable than watching a human suffer, and Koba was quite in awe of humans' boundless creativity when it came to torture.

He could just as easily kill you. It would have been easy in such a vulnerable state, but where would the fun be if you didn't see him do it?

The terror he'd been able to read in the eyes of these men dressed in white had only been an appetizer, like the hazelnut that crunches under the tooth to whet the appetite.

The screams. It was a feast he'd relished in. Koba took care of it. He'd wanted to hear them scream like he'd heard you rip your lungs out in pain.

Koba squinted at the thought. No, it had nothing to do with you. It had nothing to do with seeing your hands and feet bound and pinned to a table the way he had been. It had nothing to do with the fact that the current state of your pelvis looked like a Picasso painting and that the scars, if and only if, he let you survive, would match those scattered across his body.

No.

He'd wanted to hear them scream because they were men wearing white. Humans who had mutilated him. Because they were human.

A whine.

Koba turned his gaze to your face. And what a satisfying sight it was. He could read on your every feature the pain that had circulated through all your cells, a pain he imagined to be so deep that it had left its marks on the skin of your contorted face. Even in the unconscious, he could see the repetitive twitching of your body trying to digest the hammer blows it had repeatedly received.

To him, it was a painting, a work of art, and he might have wished he'd inflicted it on you himself, but not to observe other human beings, your bloodthirsty species, inflicting such suffering on one of their own would have been a real waste.

How ironic. As human as you were, it didn't stop them. No better than a laboratory rat… No better than the ape he was in the eyes of those men wearing white.

How ironic to let you live only to see you realize how insignificant you are to your own species. To the species that claimed to be superior. The idea of you, a human, realizing that even this had been taken away from you by these other humans, no matter who you were, what you had or hadn't done, was so pleasing to Koba's vengeance that he yanked each of the straps that held you to the table.

And Caesar? Oh Caesar will see. He'll understand Koba.

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"Raka… told me a story."

The hesitation in Noa's voice caught your attention and you slowly began to forget to peck at the blades of grass at your feet. What story? Your gaze, lost in your memories, landed on Noa, curious to hear what he had to tell you.

Noa found himself fascinated by the stubbornness of your irises to continue the story you were telling yourself, while at the same time showing your sudden interest in his words. He felt as if he were observing the depths of a river, its swirls warping the flora and fauna moving beneath the surface, with only the desire to plunge his face underwater and let him see clearly the life that lay there, without filters, without waves, without murky waters.

"Apes and… Echoes" he pointed to you with a wave of his hand. "A very long time ago… would have been like… you and your Caesar."

Noa watched your facial features pull back into a confused scowl. You said nothing. He wondered if you were inviting him to go on with his explanation or if you were silently passing incredulous judgment on a potential distant truth that he himself had felt, when Raka had told him stories of a past older than the elders of his village. After all, even if a clan of apes had shared a part of your life, it was very far from being standard practice in this world, and quite the contrary, you may have been the only Echo in the present world to have lived in such a way. It would come as no surprise to be suspicious of this potential truth, but Noa was sure that you were living proof that Raka might have been right about that distant past.

But to you, something was wrong. And you felt your neurons searching for connections that didn't yet exist, because it was more than obvious from your own experience that apes and humans had lived side by side. It wasn't an unknown story, or even a harebrained one, it was your story.

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Perched on the edge of a boulder, your legs dangling in the air above the rest of the colony, you were quietly watching the apes go about their daily lives.

A month had passed.

A month, but it had really only been a week since you'd ventured outside the hut you'd been brought to to help your body heal.

Something was lurking in the pit of your stomach, a feeling you could hardly identify because it was so unstable. It grew inside of you and spread like water from a dam that had just burst, although you didn't know if you should really welcome it and let it settle in your veins so that it could nourish each and every one of your cells. And whatever that feeling was, whether positive, negative or a bit of both, it kept growing and trying to find its true nature.

This feeling had begun to feed on what it saw around you in the three weeks since you had regained awareness of your surroundings.

Distrust, in the green and golden eyes of some of the apes who passed by your hut.

Benevolence, in the leathery hands that took care to check on the progress of your healing.

Curiosity, in the gruff words that asked you questions to which you didn't have all the answers.

Hatred, in the growls that hissed through the sharp teeth shown to you when you dared a glance outside your hut.

And, above all, empathy, in the gentle, patient gestures made to ensure that no more pain would be caused to you as your body worked crudely to create bones and flesh previously ripped to shreds.

Three weeks. That's how long it had taken for you to be able to put one foot on the ground again and for your hip to weld to your pelvis. Your body had done what it could with what it had left. You knew you'd never walk the way you used to. You didn't need an X-ray or a CAT scan to feel the bone plate that had fastened the bone in your pelvis to the bone at the top of your femur.

You wondered what the scientists would call this new bone, their future pride and joy. Maybe Weston would take all the credit, after all, even if he wasn't the designer, he was the head of the program.

And this feeling, which continued its perpetual development, suddenly twisted your stomach. They couldn't give it a name if you didn't come back.

You snapped out of your thoughts when a low, guttural grunt drew your gaze to an ape crouching beside you.

Caesar. That was how he had introduced himself when you had regained consciousness.

You smiled at him before focusing your admiring gaze once again on the goings-on below.

"It's… amazing what you've done."

A low vibration emerged from his chest in a dull chuckle, and you didn't need to see it to know he was proud of the work he'd done.

"Not I, all of us."

You nodded keenly, but couldn't help feeling that he was being too modest, for if it hadn't been for him, all those apes would never have had the life they'd got here.

This plunged you into a form of nostalgia for a time that had not yet arrived, but which was taking shape a little more day by day. A time when humans would die out and the apes would continue to thrive, and you couldn't yet imagine to what extent.

"The world is going to change so much…" Your voice seemed lost in a distant future when the realization hit you. You turned sharply towards him, your right hip screaming insults through your nerve endings, "No, what I mean is…" you rushed to reply while massaging the painful part of your pelvis in a silent apology, "it's really fantastic what's happening to you all and it's a great thing but…" You paused in your clumsy explanation before resuming, your eyes busy looking at your fidgeting hands, resigned, "Sorry, that was stupid."

You suddenly looked up as Caesar took hold of your wrist. Cautiously, he stretched your arm slightly towards him, placing the palm of your open hand skywards. His grip wasn't meant to be aggressive; in fact, he was silently and gently showing you the best way to ask for forgiveness. You felt his leathery fingers glide confidently over your palm and you were so taken aback that Caesar, after accepting your apology, had to gently push your hand towards you to indicate that the exchange was over.

"The world… has already… changed." His baritone voice resonated right into your ribcage, and you observed him place beside you a wristband adorned with what looked like polished white stone. "But you can… learn."

The more you looked at the wristband, the stranger those little white stones seemed to you. You hardly dared to touch it, and you cast a questioning glance at Caesar, who was cautiously observing your reaction.

"Wha… what's this?" "Bones." He replied simply, pointing to your pelvis.

The bones from your pelvis. It took you a minute to digest the information, but that was all it took to understand.

The small pieces of bone had been carefully cleaned and gloriously adorned around this wristband woven from a bamboo stalk. Your bones, which had been bruised and abused in human hands, had been reassembled and treated with respect in the hands of an ape. A form of silent agreement that said: if humans have torn a part of you away, apes, if you were willing, could have it back to you.

〰️〰️〰️〰️〰️〰️〰️〰️〰️〰️〰️〰️〰️〰️〰️〰️〰️〰️〰️〰️〰️

Unconsciously, your hand had slipped around your wrist where the bracelet had rested there for years before being lost. Your fingertips remembered the asymmetrical outlines of the polished bones and the way the woven bamboo rods rolled across your skin, and it was hard to forget them after so many years of playing with them between your fingers.

It had been a long time since you'd thought about it, and if it had still been there, maybe you could have shown it to Noa and confessed that Raka was right, that it wasn't "would have been" but simply "was".

The issue wasn't to relate, but…

And you tilted your head to one side. Your eyes crinkled into a thousand questions that you couldn't formulate yourself and that remained on the tip of your tongue as if no words in any language could really translate them into something audible.

"H-How…?" You couldn't finish your question. "That's what Raka said… when I told him about the masks."

Noa was not sure whether he should tell you about the masks, or even why he had brought himself to your doorstep. And you'd never gotten him used to that intense stare of yours in four days. Now it was your turn to want to open his skull like you would open a Tupperware to see what was hidden inside.

You stared at him intently and caught his gaze turning to Raka, who was nearby looking after his horse.

Noa was looking for some form of escape, or even comfort, from Raka, who he felt was best placed to explain these things to you. But Raka wasn't looking at him. He couldn't help him out of the mess Noa had gotten himself into.

Noa stumbled over his words, not knowing where to start, but he sensed that you wouldn't help him collect his thoughts and translate them into words. But if you didn't want to help him make them audible, yourself far too confused and bewildered, he could always sign them to you.

"Long before, another Caesar… A different one from yours, too far away to be yours" And you straightened up, suddenly wanting to get closer to Noa, silently taken aback by his movements that you were slowly deciphering. "Raka said, the masks, they took his name." Noa went on signing, amplifying his gestures to make sure you understood. "To twist his words."

And the signs that followed left you speechless.

"Ape do not kill ape." Noa began, before going on with gestures seeming like an echo from the valleys of a mountain range overshadowing bygone days.

And as you stared at Noa, your irises detailing his every move in their sockets, you finally noticed.

How had you not noticed before? Surely too busy looking away, too busy drowning in lists, sinking into activities that had kept you bodily functional, too busy wanting them both to go away.

The scar on his right pectoral. Your vision blurred a little more at the signs you knew by heart, the signs Caesar had told you over and over again until they became second nature. All you could see were his hands, close to his chest, his scar in the background, and for a fraction of a second you could see him, Caesar.

Caesar signed to you the words he was so proud of, puffing out his chest like an insolent child after getting the top mark in an exam, so proud of the words he'd invented that he let out a confident growl, straight from his ribcage.

"Apes, together, strong." You whispered Caesar's words in the rhythm he was so accustomed to signing them.

And a tear beaded down your cheek as you looked up into Caesar's face, realizing at first glance that it was really only Noa.

Noa observed your cheeks gradually covering with tears, not really understanding what had just gone through your head, but he too was speechless. How did you know his words? And before he could ponder the question any further, your barely audible voice forced him to focus on what you were about to reveal, his first name rolling off your lips.

"Noa… There is no other Caesar."

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@sparks0918

@moonlightnyx

@analuw

[morganski-19]

It’s a month after Starcourt when Steve realizes that Robin isn’t leaving. That she meant what she said about sticking around. That they were trauma bonded in two ways now. One in the average minimum wage worker way. The second in the way no one should ever have to be. 

If he had the choice to do it all over again. He’d never ask her to get involved. Would have told Dustin to wait until his shift is over, and then they could go figure it out. It might have taken longer. They might have never figured it out at all. But then another person wouldn’t have been dragged into the bullshit. Robin wouldn’t have nightmares anymore. 

She wouldn’t find herself on his doorstep at two in the morning, drenched in sweat from a mix of the heat and the fear. Bike fallen on the ground by her feet. He wouldn’t have to keep lying that she woke him up. Even if they both knew he hadn’t fallen asleep before four a.m. since that day. 

He won’t have someone to call when he wakes up screaming. Because he can’t call the kids, it’s not their job to calm him down. That’s his. Their phone calls don’t go both ways. Robin’s do though. She insisted on it. 

Worst part of it all is that Steve doesn’t want Robin to leave. But knows she will. This is just until the nightmares stop, then she’ll realize that he’s not worth it anymore. Just like the rest of them. It’s always until the person gets what they need out of Steve, and then they’re gone. No one ever stays because of who he is. 

It was clear the day he dropped Tommy and Carol. How they ran away like flies when you took away the food. They were terrible people, but they were his friends. His only friends. Since elementary school. It all seemed so trivial back then, but he appreciated them for what they were.

Regret is a funny thing. He doesn’t regret dropping them. It would have happened eventually. He regrets the hole that it left though. The emptiness that he’s been running from for a while. They filled the house when his parents were away. Which was more frequent now that he was an adult. They didn’t need to look after him that much anymore. It was his job now. 

Robin made it her job too. Without him asking. He never would have. But when they were both ready to get back to work, she was right there at his door with a resume in hand. Ready to get them both a job together again. Why would they ever need to work at two separate places? They were a package deal now. 

For now. Steve reminded himself. There will come a day that Robin will see that Steve isn’t much different from the kid she hated in high school. He’s still rich, and messy. Still can be really mean when he doesn’t mean to be. He’s sorry for it now. But that doesn’t change the fact that it still happens. 

Yet, like clockwork, she keeps coming around. Keeps calling at the same time every night to talk for hours when they should be asleep. Makes him realize how much he’s going to miss this when it inevitably ends. 

He’d prefer for it to happen rather than later. So he can be less attached. So it will hurt less. 

“How are you still here?” Steve asks one night. When the room is light enough for the nightmares to creep away, but dark enough to still hide the the fear on his face. 

“What do you mean?” Robin asks. Like her being here at all isn’t some big miracle. 

“You know who I was in high school. You know the things I said. The things I did.”

Robin props herself up on her elbows. “And? You’re not like that anymore.”

Steve shakes his head. She’s not getting it. “Part of me still is. Somewhere. I still snap and insult, and be just mean when I feel like I need to be. Even though I don’t half the time. It’s like a reflex I can’t get rid of. I might act like it, but I’m not much different than I was back then.”

“You are,” she says with absolute certainty. 

“No, I’m not.”

“Yes, you are.” Robin’s face comes into view. “I might have not known you that well, but I can still see it. In the way you carry yourself, in the way you act around those kids. The person you were back in highschool wouldn’t spare them a second glance. Wouldn’t spare me a second glance. The minute you walked into the ice cream parlor wearing those stupid shorts and dumb hat and saw me behind the counter, it would have been over. I would have been the subject of your torture. But I wasn’t.”

Robin takes Steve’s wrists and pulls him into a sitting position. Looking at him like she means what she says. He believes her. 

“Instead, you were nice to me. Considerate. Snappy sure, but in the way that secretly made me laugh. And never mean, not really. Even when I gave you every chance to be. I was waiting for who you were in history class to show up and he never did. Instead I saw the real you for the first time and I liked it. You are so much more than you give yourself credit for.”

“But what I said-.”

“Is in the past. The person who said those things wouldn’t have made fun of my crush on Tammy Tompson as fast as you did. Or accepted the fact that I liked girls at all. Might have done a lot of things I’m not sure of.” She pauses, swallowing. “When I told you, I was so scared. I had no clue how you would react. And you have no idea how relieved I was when it played out the way it did. You’re the first person I’ve told about this. You don’t know what that means for me.”

Steve stares at her. “I didn’t know that.”

She shrugs. “Yeah well. Now you do.”

“Why me?”

“Well I sort of had to reject you for one,” she jokes. “But, after I saw the way that you protected Dustin and Erica, me, without even blinking. Something about you just felt safe. I know that’s risky as hell and might have not worked out with most people. I just had a feeling that it would work out with you.”

“I’m glad you told me,” he whispers. “I’m glad that I was able to be that first person. And that you felt that you could tell me at all. After all the shit I said.”

“Again, you’re different now. Intentionally different. I might have just been a bystander in the Steve Harrington experience until recently, but I can see that. I hope you can too.”

[phoenixeclipse-lmkau]

This is more a silly thought, and I don't think it would happen. But someone just kinda flirting with y/n in front of those two silly monkeys while they are little makes me giggle a little bit. But then again, Spirit would probably do something to the flirt before they do. Hell y/n themselves would either be too dense or would not be having it lmao.

Now why wouldn't this happen? Reader is very pretty and many people think this. Of course beauty is subjective and there are some that don't care for her looks but their opinions don't really matter. Though it definitely helps them not die via a jealous monkey or two or even three. Wait Spirit wouldn't kill them... or would she?

Now, for what these two monkeys would do? They would definitely hiss and probably try to pounce on the person flirting with the one who is theirs. She doesn't belong to anyone but them you see even if she doesn't quite know it yet.

Spirit can be around her, but that's only because she is useful. She sees Reader as a sister, not a lover, and Reader would be heartbroken if she died. Like the time she almost died, Reader hardly slept for days because of it.

However, if someone other than the barely accepted Monkey Demoness were to touch their darling. Now that is different. One way it could definitely play out is someone decides to flirt with her, and one (most likely Wukong) would pounce of the man.

Reader would have to fight to get Wukong to let go, and once she did, she would definitely have to tell him how wrong it is to hurt people. Seeing that you wouldn't hurt the Monkey and the fact that there are two crazy monkies around you, the men of that village would probably steer clear of you. Of course, whenever you get far enough away that people don't know what happened, there may be a few repeated instances of this.

While Wukong just attacks the people, Macaque is definitely more held back and calm about it. He has nothing to fear. You're not going to fall for their charms. After all, they probably insulted your monkeys or even Spirit. Besides, he's been taking note of everyone's faces, so he'll know who to hunt down when he gets his true form back. He's alright with a long game, as long as she doesn't flirt back anyway.

Now Spirit, on the other hand? She wouldn't like whoever was trying to flirt with her sister for sure. Would she do anything about it that would depend on if they were being respectful. If they are keeping a calm distance and flirting respectfully, she wouldn't do anything. Unless it was making you uncomfortable, of course.

If they were being disrespectful? They would have to deal with a dangerous monkey demoness that would undoubtedly beat the shit out of them. Kind and sweet Reader wouldn't let her kill them but she wouldn't just let them get away with disrespecting her sister. It may take a little bit before she's able to get pried away from beating the man.

So all in all, Reader would get more of a headache than anything if someone else was to flirt with her. She's not interested in dating these men, she's trying to get back home to her world after all. So even if someone does flirt with her and by some 'miracle' she's alone, she wouldn't give them the time of day really. (Unless she was purposefully trying to distract them, then maybe)

But yep~ hope that answers your question Anon ❤️

[katuschka]

Touch Starved Pups – Two

Jake Kiszka x f!reader x Josh Kiszka 6.269 words

Welcome to Part Two of the story about what happens to two well-behaved, bored and horny romantics when a new feisty, worldly and hot social media manager enters the building...

Disclaimer: This is a work of fiction, intended for adult readers. Any resemblance to real persons is purely coincidental. Also, if you're under 18, go find some other entertainment elsewhere.

Warnings (are spoilers): sex, sex, sex, and sex; unprotected vaginal sex, oral sex, rough oral sex, fingering, squirting, choking, overstimulation, multiple orgasms, old unresolved traumas, bullying, online bullying, expressive language, domJake/sweet Jake, domJosh/sweet Josh, alcohol consumption, smoking

Also, if you like the story and want to get notifications for future updates, you can join the Taglist or see the Masterlist

See also Touch Starved Pups Masterpost

I'm in like I'm infatuated It's all too much, the pressure She's all that I can take She's a sad tomato She's three miles of bad road She's her own invention That gets me in the throat

When I was a kid, my mom kept telling me that my flippant and optimistic nature would make me miserable one day. It would be my downfall, she said. Well, I’m still waiting.

Nah, that’s badly worded. I never waited for anything. She kept waiting for miracles my whole childhood and it only made our life hellish sometimes. So, I either do shit, or I prevent shit from happening. Easy. Well, mostly. Sometimes, it's a bit harder but I still keep trying. While I acknowledge the fact that the world can often be a miserable place, I just decided that I’m not gonna contribute to that. If anything ever makes me feel under the weather, it’s not my life loving nature, but the people who dislike it, because hating is all they know. So fuck them. I just live my life the way I want and so far it’s made me feel good. There were even a few times when I felt like a real fucking queen! Falling asleep in the middle of a twin(k) sandwich definitely qualifies as one of those moments. 

Just imagine: It’s three am, penthouse wall windows reveal the sea of city lights below. It illuminates the room just right. It’s a magnificent, festive glow. The air is still thick with the smell of sex, probably because of all those stains on the sheets, previously drenched with pheromone infused sweat and other bodily fluids. A nice contrast to three freshly-showered, rose-scented, warm and dry bodies lying intertwined and pleasantly fatigued on those dirty, dirty sheets. Dirtied with looooove. Muahaha. One of the bodies belongs to you, the other two are none other than the sweet and spicy Kiszka twins. What a nice thing to imagine, right? Well, you can. I don’t have to. I’m right here. 

We did it! Not my first threesome, but definitely the most memorable one. Who would have thought  that those two mini labradoodles would make me feel so good! I mean, they did in the past, but this is a whole new level. And they continue to do so. Even now, when both of them are fast asleep. Their bodies emanate so much heat that I don’t need a blanket. They are my blanket, keeping me warm and cozy and…safe. That’s new.

I probably shouldn’t get used to that, but it surely is extremely pleasant right now: spooned by Josh, with his face buried in my hair. I can feel his hot breath on the nape of my neck, while Jake’s left hand rests possessively on my right thigh. I was stroking his belly, but it kept waking him up, so he stopped me by taking my hand in his and now they both just rest on top of his chest, with our fingers still intertwined. He looks stunning like this, lying on his back like a king resting after doing the king’s work. With his lips slightly parted, he’s snoring lightly, reminding me he’s still just a guy, not an elf. 

It’s intoxicating, the whole thing, the whole situation. I can’t get enough of this. I just wanna grab all their remaining limbs and wrap them all around me until I melt into them…once again. I think I will, but for now, I savor the moment in this luxurious and airy room, and the city lights keep twinkling. I bet we must look great, too, with all that night glow illuminating our resting bodies. Fit for Vogue cover no doubt…if we weren’t completely naked, that is. We wouldn’t want to offend anyone, oh no no no. So maybe just a Tom Ford ad.

You’re right, this doesn’t sound like my room. My life may be good, but I couldn’t afford a penthouse room with wall windows. This is not the night when I first made that naughty suggestion. Nothing happened in that hotel room AND there’s more to the story. So let’s go back. 

It took them a little while to fully comprehend what I was really suggesting. Poor things. Jake was the first one to turn pale. Then he started shaking his head and pointing his finger at me. “No way! No, no no,” trying to laugh it off. Who does he think I am? A stand-up comedian? I just flashed them, for fuck’s sake. That’s no laughing matter, you fucker. I’m dead serious. 

I just raised my right eyebrow at him, as I was getting impatient and becoming very, VERY annoyed. He looked at Josh for confirmation and – to my delight – found none. That up-to-no-good pixie might have looked equally frightened, but he was definitely NOT opposed to the idea. I could tell, because I could see… Jake noticed too. “Oh for fuck’s sake! Are you fucking serious?”

Josh didn’t respond. Rubbing the nape of his neck, he looked me in the eye and I could tell he was searching for more clues as to what I was really up to. I thought I had made myself clear. Trying to make myself even clearer, I returned the stare with my chin up and licked my upper lip lasciviously, making Josh’s dick twitch again. 

“It’s just sex, Jake…” Josh mumbled sheepishly. 

“You’re sick! Both of you.” Jake spat and pointed a finger animatedly first at Josh, then at me, then at Josh again. 

“Fine! Bugger off, then!” Josh hissed in response, repeating Jake’s previous words. 

“Fuck you!” To my dismay, he zipped up, adjusted his shirt a bit (like anyone would be able to tell the difference) and stormed out, closing the door with a loud bang. 

“Well…” Josh sighed and rubbed his hands together with an idioting grin on his face.  I usually enjoyed his playful nature, but it annoyed me magnificently at that moment. 

“What?” 

“Hey lady, you got the love I need,” not discouraged by the acidic tone of my voice, he crooned, approaching me slowly.

… and that wouldn’t do. I could see my plan crumbling and the only way to keep things going was to keep them BOTH sexually frustrated, even if it meant denying myself some generously offered cock. I finally decided to play the “offended” card. My room, my rules. They just couldn’t get a grip!

And that’s how Josh too ended up in the hallway outside my room, holding his crumpled clothes in front of him in an attempt to hide at least his front yard valuables. One angry kick at my door before he went running to his room. I kept my ear glued to the door so as not to miss any additional drama, but apart from a surprised “whoa” coming from Robert, the security guy, followed by “run, Forrest, run”, he seemed to have scared no one. 

So, that was it. God bless my purple little friend that’s never let me down. Visualizing it in Josh’s ass with his face contorted with bliss certainly helped, too. Thank you Jake for the idea. It was great. 

We were supposed to leave early in the morning, and because the fucking schedule is sacred, it was just past seven am when we all indeed found ourselves dragging our sorry and hungover asses towards the busses. The weather was shit that day, just like our collective mood. Grey and gloomy (And wet…yeah, well, I kept having thoughts. So what!). I was already standing outside the hotel, trying to enjoy my morning cigarette – shivering just a little bit, because I had thought a light cardigan and leggings would be enough – when Josh just stormed by with his hideous cap and sunglasses on, looking like a huge white fly. 

That was unusual (even more so in this overcast weather), which could only mean that he was sulking. My theory was further supported by him lighting up a cigarette in front of the bus, meaning he was sulking rather vigorously, wanting everyone (me) to see. I half expected him to pull out a chocolate bar out of his pocket and ram it down his throat. The idea made me chuckle. 

“What did you do to him?” It was Robert, appearing next to me out of nowhere and handing  me a much needed cup of coffee. Rob knew… 

“Sucked his twin’s dick. Thank you.” 

Richard nodded in understanding, even though he didn’t understand shit about this particular scenario. I like Robert. He’s our teddy grizzly bear. A good buddy, too. I took a sip and savored it for a while because Jake just passed us by – also without saying a word – and I wanted to pretend I didn’t notice. Robert did, though, and frowned: “Wait…you gave Jake head, but he doesn’t seem too happy about it now… and Josh was running down the hall in his birthday suit in the middle of the night… Girl! Why do I feel like there’s more to the story?” Now Robert was slowly starting to understand. Bless him. 

“Do you really wanna know?”

 “Are you kidding me? You know I live for juicy tea.” I laughed while we watched Jake having a heated conversation with Josh. We were too far to hear the words , who ended the argument abruptly by just flipping Jake violently right in front of his almost new nose before stepping onto the bus without another word. Jake noticed us staring, flipped us too, and followed suit. 

Robert pursed his lips and puffed through his nose. “OK, maybe I don’t wanna know.”  

I just shrugged. At first glance, this looked like a rather precarious situation, but I was hopeful it wouldn’t last long. After all, it wasn’t really my fault, and if the two of them had a problem with each other because of me, I had generously offered a solution. It was just a matter of time. 

“Ah, well, this is going to be a truly pleasant ride. Care to join us?” Robert asked, throwing me a devilish smile. 

“Nah, I’m good,” I grinned back. 

While Rob was a part of the closest crew, my own bunk bed was on the other bus, so that was the one I usually took, unless my work required a different momentary arrangement. To be honest, I felt like there would be a lot of work waiting for me that day (And I was right.), but I also wanted to deal with that alone. Those fuckers were in no mood to be able to handle even more bullshit. And it was a real shitstorm, lemme tell you. 

I usually start my daily routine by checking all the relevant platforms, because I wanna keep abreast of things. Sometimes it requires drinking before noon, because of all the crazy shit that one can find online. I keep doing it so that no one else has to. It’s an honorable task. Like a food taster of something. 

Some finds are more or less pleasant and make my days easier. For example almost all the twinning content. It was basically the same that day, in spite of the fact that the show the previous night wasn’t exactly a success. 

One video in particular caught my attention, though, because it looked like the feud between the two of them started well before they ended up in my room. It was not the usual twin banter. Not this time. This looked serious. I completely missed it, but clearly, you didn’t, because there were several variations from different angles, two of them featuring my lovely self. It must have happened very shortly after I took my own footage that I was about to edit next. 

None of that was new. I’m often on the fan videos, just like the rest of the crew, but I’m never the center of anyone’s attention, so in spite of some of you hating me, it doesn’t really matter…well, it didn’t, until now. The said feud was obviously about me, even though I had not been aware of any of that happening at that moment. And apparently, it made them behave unprofessionally too. 

Well, strike one.

Our night activities were quite obviously no secret, but no one batted an eye. A pleasurable distraction, that’s what it was. However, if it became too much of a distraction…if I became too much of a distraction and it should start affecting their ability to perform, I might be asked to pack my bags. That’s when I felt the first lump in my stomach. Do no harm, that’s the key. We’ve all wanted this, right?

I took a deep breath and counted to ten. It was just a brief moment. Iit couldn’t possibly be all my fault. Not all shows can be stellar; there are nights when things just go wrong. And nobody said anything to me afterwards. 

Stop overreacting, you bitch, and do your job, which you can’t afford to lose. It’s not a big deal. 

And it wasn’t. I checked more videos and it really wasn’t as bad as the general mood made it seem like at the time. As that particular leg of the tour was coming to an end, we were all just tired, irritated and homesick (Not me, but some others were, including the guys). 

I delved into the comments next. 

No, it was not a big deal, but it still made so many of you so fucking angry, because for a split second, they weren’t paying attention to you, but it was all on me. And you saw how both of them wanted me. 

Strike two!

I got used to derogatory comments, slurs or even edited pictures. I scanned past that, more or less unfazed, until my eyes landed on something that almost made me choke on my coke (with rum). 

This job taught one important thing. My own online presence is irrelevant, problematic, and potentially harmful. I have no personal accounts. That doesn’t mean I’m untraceable and as it turned out, someone dug up dirt on my father and used it to psychoanalyze me. Yes, that excuse for a man is a piece of shit. I know. He’s dead to me. But this…this was like a punch in the guts. And I just sat there, unable to take a deep breath all of the sudden.

I refuse to let people get under my skin, but that asshole is my kryptonite. I battled my demons, kicked them in the balls, but his disgusting face is the only personified evil that I never managed to overcome. The scars run deep. I hate the fact, but that’s how it is. At least I had managed to stop it from haunting me. Until now. 

The second lump in my stomach wasn’t a lump. It was a huge ball of acid goo. I barely managed to get to the bathroom in time before my body betrayed me and I said goodbye to my breakfast. 

“Are you ok?” It was Daniel, approaching me at my spot in section B right after the soundcheck ended. 

“Never been better. Why?” 

He cast me a sympathetic look. “Stella, I saw some of that shit.” 

Well, shit.

After we arrived at the hotel the previous day, I beelined to my hotel room and continued to work from there. Well I tried to do some work, but after my hands started shaking uncontrollably, I spent at least two hours crouched down on the floor in the shower before I called it a night. 

It got worse overnight. What started as just a few comments that affected me personally, snowballed out of proportion and I felt like my job was really hanging by a thread. 

I didn’t meet the twins again until soundcheck and even then we kept our distance. They probably thought that I was avoiding them and it was in fact true. I needed to function and that took all my remaining energy. I didn’t have enough brainpower to try to explain what was wrong with me. Daniel’s comment together with their sideways glances that I suddenly noticed told me that they probably already knew. I sighed, feeling defeated. 

“It just comes with the job. Working with people is not for the faint of heart. I’m used to that. I’m prepared for that. So, I’m fine, Daniel.” 

“Uh huh, fearless in words, as always. And yet I’m seeing that you’re not. I know you’re tough, but you’re also only human. You can’t always hide behind your words. Not only because you’re failing this time, but also because it’s not healthy.”

“So what am I supposed to do, Danny?” 

“Well, let’s start with you joining us for a drink after the show,” he smiled at me encouragingly. 

…an offer, which I didn’t take. I craved their closeness more than ever, but it was not right. I barely survived the photopit that evening and went straight to bed as soon as possible.   

The next morning passed in a haze. Once again, I spent it trying and failing to do my daily routine – just my laptop’n’me – before we all gathered for lunch. I didn’t want to go, but I had witnessed what lack of self care can do to you when I was a child, and I had promised myself to never fall down that pit. 

I managed to smile weakly at everyone before I found my seat in the corner. That’s where Jake finally approached me.

“Bebe, honey, come and join us,” he smiled and motioned towards the table where Josh was already waving at me to come. 

“I don’t think that’s a good idea, Jake.” 

He sat on the chair next to me and placed his hands on the table with a dull thud. “What’s going on? This is not you, and – believe it or not – it’s really making us worry. Is it about your dad? Because that’s just…”

“He’s not my “DAD”. And no…well, yes, kind of, but that’s my personal problem. It’s about the two of you. I’m here to do my job, and I can’t be the reason why two of you argue and consequently fail to do yours.” 

“Bebe, we’re fine…”...but I just shook my head dismissively. He took a deep breath. 

“So, if we convinced you that we’re fine and not arguing, would it be OK?”

“Yeah, perhaps…” I replied with uncertainty, to which he stood up, bent down to kiss my hair while mumbling “ok”, and went back to his table, leaving me confused on top of everything else. I quickly finished my lunch and stormed out. 

The rest of the day went more or less smoothly. Another soundcheck, just in case, even though it was the same venue, a few hours of “idling” backstage (doesn’t apply to the crew), followed by yet another hellish evening in front of the people who wanted to tar and feather me.

When I got back to my room, I just showered quickly and was in my nightgown and ready to go to bed when I heard a knock on my door. 

“Hi sparrow.” He smiled sweetly and swung on his feet. 

“Josh? What are you doing here? I’m a bit tired and…”

“I…well, WE got a little surprise for you. Come on. Let me show you.” He was already reaching for my hand but I backed away. 

“All right, all right…just let me put some clothes on, you crank. I’m almost naked, with just my nightgo…”

“Which is just perfect! Come on!” He was relentless, jumping around like a kid around a christmas tree. I have to admit, his exuberant behavior was once again contagious, and I couldn’t help but laugh. What else could I do, he was already pushing me out of the door and towards the elevator. “I hope we’re not going to go swimming…naked?!?” I asked warily, but he just laughed and kissed me softly. “Josh, we really shouldn’t…”

“Shhh.” 

To my utter bewilderment, he led me right to the door of a presidential suite. Opening it, he motioned for me to enter. I gasped. It was a beautiful one. Elegantly furnished and airy. The bedroom was separated from the large lounge only by a glass wall so that it looked more like a huge loft. Standing by a large minibar, dressed also just in a bathrobe, was Jake. He raised his glass to me with a soft smile and took a sip. I heard the door click behind me and turned around to see Josh leaning against, his expression completely altered now.   

I was impressed, not gonna lie. My babies all grown up and taking initiative. It felt as if they filtered all the blood in my veins. The bitch is back, bitches! I wondered what was in store for me there. Judging by the looks on their faces, probably nothing good. Good…

“Want a drink?” Jake asked and I nodded. 

He came closer, took a sip of his whisky. He tapped at my lower lip with his finger, urging me to open my mouth, and kissed me, spitting the drink on my tongue. It was so lewd and hedonistic! Got me all excited. I swallowed the burning liquid and kissed him back.  

“Any special requests, Bebe?” he asked when our lips parted. 

Oh, I sooo wanted to be just a ragdoll in their hands. After three days spent trying to be in control of the situation – and failing – I now realized how desperately I needed NOT to be in control for a while. To let go. Would they really do that for me? Treating me like their whore in this suite that must have been a bit expensive even to their standards? “Use me!” My tone was cold and daring, I showed no fear, but I was so ready to be tossed around the room.

Jake looked a bit surprised at first, but then he took another sip and his face hardened, eyes darkening with lust. I felt Josh’s hands running down my shoulders until they reached my elbows and grabbed them firmly. Oh god, they were hoping for this! Oh this is going to be so good. 

“Allright, on your knees, then.” 

I quickly obliged. He stripped off his gown and motioned to me to do the same. Before I could even blink, Joah was naked too. Eager bastard. They towered over me like two hounds, but I had absolutely no intention to be sheepish. They looked at each other and I swear I could feel their silent communication going on. It was like a different kind of waves, vibrating in the air and elusive to all the senses other than touch. 

“Open,” Jake ordered. I stuck my tongue out daringly and he filled my mouth without any further ado. While still holding the glass of whisky, he grabbed my hair with his left hand and fucked my mouth until I jerked back, gasping for air. He released me. “Are you ok?” he asked and his face softened. 

“Yes,” I answered breathlessly. 

“Good. So, as you probably already gathered, we’re here to convince you. It’s going to be just as you requested, but at first we’re going to make you feel good. Ok?” I nodded. Of course it was fucking ok! I was already so wet that I might get dehydrated if I didn’t get a drink soon. Glancing around, I noticed that Josh already made himself comfortable on the bed beyond the glass divider. I looked up at Jake again and he nodded. 

“Yeah, go,” Jake motioned towards the king size bed with his hand clutching a glass of whisky. His tone was mild, but it wasn’t a request. 

I climbed onto the bed and looked at Josh for further instructions. It was just so surreal, I still couldn’t really believe what was happening. He spread his legs and patted the mattress between them. “Come here sparrow, make yourself comfy.” I positioned myself in front of him and leaned my back against his chest. 

“Sparrow, we know the last few days have been rough, so if there’s anything you don’t like, tell us immediately, understand?” He whispered in my ear while he stroked my upper thighs.

“Ok,” I whispered back. He grabbed my knees and forced my legs open, making room for Jake to position himself between them. I gasped when he started kissing the soft skin of my inner thigh, making his way up, while Josh’s lips brushed against my neck, while his palms traveled up and down my upper arms. Jake’s gradual teasing was almost debilitating and I squealed when the tip of his tongue finally darted between my folds and he lapped at my juices thirstily, moaning in appreciation before he wrapped his lips around my clit and started sucking gently. The muscles of my underbelly tightened almost immediately and my whole body shook with a sudden wave of intense arousal. 

“Any further request, sparrow?” Josh bit my earlobe teasingly. 

“Choke me,” I breathed out. He wrapped his fingers around my throat and squeezed gently. “More,” I urged him. “Fuck!” he hissed, almost angrily, and his grip tightened. I rolled my eyes and let out a loud, strangled moan. Pressed with my lower back against him, I could feel how much he liked that too. “You’re something else, sparrow.”

I looked down at Jake, whose eyes met mine and I watched how they widened. I imagined what it must have looked like: my heaving chest, my parted lips and raised brows, Josh’s other hand still toying with my left tit. 

Jake closed his eyes and moaned around my clit. The fucker liked that, too. See? I knew you would. 

It took them only a few more minutes to make me cum…for the first time. Before I could react, Jake grabbed my ankles and pulled me down a bit so that my head now rested in Josh’s groin. He pressed his right palm against my core and slowly pushed two fingers inside. The intensity of the new stimulation right after my orgasm took me by surprise. 

“Jake…oh…god…what are you doing?”

“Shut up.” 

OK!

The way he started pumping his fingers inside me made me see stars. It was something new, and it made me squeak again. Sure, he had done this before, but never right after eating me out. I grabbed Josh’s arms in search of something to hold on to, leaving angry indented marks in the flesh of his triceps as Jake continued assaulting my g spot. I knew what was going to happen, and let out a strangled cry when it indeed did. I tensed, arched my back and squirted all over Jake’s forearm. 

“Good girl,” he crooned when I collapsed back onto the mattress, completely exhausted. A rag doll, indeed. They offered me no rest, though, and I was on my hands and knees before my heart could even stop racing. “Please, just a minute,” I whimpered and looked at Josh, when I was facing now. He smiled sweetly and pecked my lips gently before he mumbled “you asked for this, honey” in his raspy, low voice. Fuck! Oh yes, I did. 

I could feel Jake positioning behind me. He ran his palms up my thighs and smacked my ass disapprovingly when they trembled. He bent down and rubbed the hot skin of his stomach against my back before he whispered in my ear: “It’s our turn, baby.” I was SO ready! My pussy was not, though, and I gasped in surprise when the tip of his cock entered me.

“Oh god, you’re so tight.” 

I could feel him stretching me and took a few deep breaths, trying to relax a bit. “Well, that’s your fault, so stop complaining.”

“I’m not…complaining…” He bottomed out, making me gasp in surprise. The stretch was so pleasantly intense, making me feel so full. “...just…stating facts!” He pulled out almost entirely and then thrusted into me again with such force that I almost collided with Josh. He grabbed my shoulders first to support me, and then started stroking my hair, massaging the nape of my neck as Jake set a steady pace. Slow and sensual at first. He knows that’s how I like it. 

“Are you feeling better?”Josh asked softly. I mumbled an incoherent “mmmhmm” and nodded. He squeezed my left boob gently and pinched the nipple slightly between his fingers as Jake’s hand traveled up my spine. I tilted my head back in a wordless plea for him to grab my hair and he did, with the other hand still kneading the soft flesh of my hip.  

“How does it feel?” It was Josh again. I closed my eyes and smiled in between my moans. It felt absolutely exhilarating. My mind practically left the room. The combination of Jake’s dick hitting my cervix and Josh’s fingertips tracing the curves of my upper body made me almost oblivious to the surroundings and I was floating on a marshmallow cloud of pure physical bliss. “Tell me baby…” I can’t speak right now. Here’s another smile, so shut up already.

“Josh?” Jake’s sultry voice brought me back to planet Earth.

“Yeah?” The response was a bit edgy. Oh dear god…

“Shut up,” Jake breathed out shakily. He tried to sound menacingly, but his voice betrayed him and faltered. I laughed softly and nuzzled my cheek in Josh's palm that was still ready to caress and support me if necessary. It was so intimate. Or it would be, if it weren’t for their childish brattiness. Even now, for fucks sake! But Jake wasn’t wrong.

“Make me.” The situation was getting a little out of hand and I grabbed Josh’s hard cock just to prevent further escalations. He yelped in surprise and I could tell Jake was getting more and more annoyed by the way he slammed into me. 

“Bebe, make him shut up.” he hissed through his teeth. I bit my lip in an attempt not to laugh because while Josh is a versatile (and kinky) lover when it comes to various roles, he would never, EVER shut up under any circumstance! But I knew what Jake meant. I wanted this, so I should be fair. I looked at Josh again and rubbed my thumb against his lower lip. “Want my mouth?” I whispered. He enveloped his lips around the tip of my thumb and started sucking at it, moaning a “yes” around it without breaking eye contact. I pulled it out and ran my trembling fingers down his chest and belly until I cupped his balls. He tilted his head back immediately and reached behind his head to grab onto the headboard, putting his lean musculature on full display. Show-off.  

I could watch him just breathing like that all day, but something else required my attention, as Jake reminded me by smacking my ass. I slowly licked around the head of that something, making Josh’s back arch. He literally wailed when I swallowed him whole once again. See? Can’t keep quiet even if his life depended on it. 

I tried my best to do a good job, bobbing my head up and down like a good girl, but it was getting increasingly hard as Jake quickened his pace. I had to stop and I looked at Josh pleadingly. “I’m gonna need your help, baby.” He only nodded and the three of us shifted a bit, so that Josh too was on his knees now, his cock right in front of my face. He placed his hands on both sides of my head and slid his cock inside my mouth until he hit my throat and I gagged loudly. He quickly withdrew and hesitated. 

Josh once told me that he loved to gag on cock, but not everyone did, and after a few accidents, he stopped doing that to others. I assured him that I personally liked messy blowjobs, and I showed him, too…but I was always in control. He never fucked my face before. “Don’t worry,” I whispered in between my audible exhales. “You love it… I love it.... This is good…And he did.” 

And he did. And he wasn’t gentle about it, finally understanding how much I craved this. More than one hole, indeed, and I could easily accommodate them both. We made quite a mess together. I could feel droplets of Jake’s sweat landing on my back as saliva ran down my chin and tears down my cheeks. The noises they were making, the smell of their skin..I was getting high on just that. Fuck the whole world, I wanna stay here. 

Jake was getting close. I could hear it in the tone of his own moans. It’s just different: louder and more natural, no longer restrained. It wasn’t because Josh was there, that’s just how he is…unless he’s relaxed or tipsy, or both. And that’s also how I can tell he’s about to unload.  He just no longer cares, losing himself in the moment. I wish he knew just how sexy that is!

He grabbed me by my biceps and pulled me up to him, making me abandon Josh’s leaking dick momentarily. I had no time to feel sorry about that, because with the change of position, he could now hit that perfect spot inside me so well that I got goosebumps. I snaked my hands behind me to hold on to his hips as he continued pounding into me. I could feel his hot breath on the side of my neck, his parted lips barely touching my skin. The sensation was so similar to what Josh was doing just a moment earlier that my breath hitched. All these subtle reminders that they were in fact identical twins always made my pussy spasm, especially when the sensory quality of those little reminders was this superior. The two of them definitely don’t need to look up the definition of “sensual” in the dictionary. 

My train of thoughts turned my attention back to Josh, and I opened my eyes to see him watching us with his mouth open and his hand wrapped firmly around his cock. The son of a bitch obviously enjoyed the sight, and I couldn’t blame him, because he was quite a sight, too. He wasn’t in a hurry, stroking himself slowly in order to save his love juice for me. Just then Jake darted his tongue out and licked a long stripe up my jugular while he hit that spot again. “Come on Bebe, give it to me,” he pleaded in my ear, meaning he was already reaching that edge. That pushed me past mine. My mouth opened in a silent scream and I came hard on his cock. 

He wrapped his arms around me and after four more jerky thrusts, he spilled inside me, each shot accompanied by a loud, howling moan. 

After he released me, I fell back on my arms right in front of Josh. I darted my tongue out and he met me halfway in a messy kiss. “How do you want me?” I whispered when we parted. 

“On your back,” he commanded. 

And I obliged. “Hold her,” Josh uttered in a low, raspy tone, and Jake’s hands wrapped around my wrists, pulling my arms over my head. Josh grabbed my knees, forcing my legs apart, threw one leg over his shoulder, positioned himself and slowly sank his dick inside me, making me hiss. 

“Are you sore?” he asked softly, while his fingers caressed my belly. I was a bit, but not enough for it to be unpleasant. “No,” I shook my head slowly, blinking lazily. I felt him pulsate inside me, his rock hard dick begging to be cherished. I squeezed around him, begging him to go on. He made the slightest move and exhaled heavily, dropping his head down. Josh was sensitive. Not in a way that he couldn’t last long, quite on the contrary sometimes, but the way he expressed himself during sex always made you think that he was going to jump out of his skin any moment. 

He looked at me again, stroked my cheek and I closed my eyes momentarily. “Tired?” he whispered. Oh for fuck’s sake, Joshua! Stop acting like a nurse and fuck me senseless. But I decided to reward the sweetheart in him by being kind. He meant well. “No, I think there might be one more,” I smiled quasi-sweetly at him and he repaid me with a vicious grin. Grabbing my hips firmly, he started pumping into me. 

It was intense. Maybe a bit too intense. I wasn’t by any means raw, but I surely felt a bit overstimulated already, and my legs started shaking. 

I could feel another orgasm building, but this one would be almost painful. I could already tell. I didn’t care. I wanted this. I needed this. Josh kept stroking my thighs in a vain attempt to soothe me, but I did not want to be soothed. I needed fireworks, and he was already striking sparks deep in my core with each stroke. Pleasure and pain. 

Jake leaned down and kissed my lips tenderly. A sudden wave of electricity shot through my whole body. This whole experience was far better than I expected. No matter how fucked out I already was, they managed to shot new waves of fresh arousal through my system. I felt completely lightheaded, floating an inch above the mattress again. Then it hit me, and my whole body convulsed. I screamed and thrashed about in between them. Jake released me and at the same time, Josh leaned down and wrapped his arms around me to prevent himself from slipping out. I did the same, squeezing him tight. Two more powerful thrusts and then he suddenly stopped, inhaled sharply and squealed in my ear as he came inside me. 

It was just the beginning…

@its-interesting-van-kleep @takenbythemadness @edgingthedarkness @writingcold @ignite-my-fire @jakekiszkasbuttsweat @fleet-of-fiction @lvnterninthenight @myownparadise96 @josh-iamyour-mama @jazzyfigz @sanguinebats @thewritingbeforesunrise @wetkleenex-gvf @lyndz2names @emojakekiszka @hollyco @lizzys-sunflower @fleetingjake @cheersdannyx2 @gvfstuddedmajesty @gvfmarge @dayumclarizzel @musicislove3389 @lipstickitty @seenoversundown @gretnavannfleet @gretasfallingsky @peaceloveunitygvf @clownstarr @watchingover-hypegirl

[specialagentlokitty]

Rick Grimes x sister!reader - my family

omg im so happy you're writing for rick and daryl! Could i request a Rick x sister!reader where they weren't together when the infection started and thought that the other had died but she's found by someone from the group and taken to alexandria? - Anon 💜

A/N: due to the fact I’m on season 2 we’ve changed it a bit :))

You weren’t sure how long you had been running, and you were scared to stop running.

You were exhausted, you had the worst pain in your ribs and nasty cut down your arm that by some miracle hadn’t gotten infected.

You were scavenging whatever you could, food, medicine, bandages, a few bottles of water that you were trying to make last.

You learned the hard way you had to go for the head, so you kept a few knifes at hand, trading them in when you found something better.

You were in a forest, abundant with sticks, and that’s what you made use off, sharpening the largest and strongest ones, always keeping a couple tucked under the straps of your bags just in case one broke.

You hadn’t seen any other living people, and as much as you wanted to try and find your family you didn’t want to risk them being one of those creatures, you couldn’t bare that thought, so you kept running to keep yourself safe.

If they were alive you would find them somewhere, they had to be alive.

Sitting on a large rock, you were taking a small break, making sure to keep on eye on everything around you.

You heard a noise and you picked up your stick, spinning around only to find a crossbow pointed at you and you looked at the owner in fear.

“Please don’t kill me…”

“Your arm, you been bit?”

You quickly shook your head, putting the power bar your were eating in your mouth and unwrapped the old bandage with your free hand, showing him the jagged wound.

You took the food out your mouth and looked at him.

“Cut myself on some glass escaping those things, that’s all. It’s not healed right though, still bleeds.”

He grabbed your wrist, pulling your hand up so he could look at it.

Then he threw your arm back at you.

“The fuck you doing out here?”

“If I had to take a guess, probably the same as you. Running, ran from the city.”

“Atlanta?”

You nodded.

“I lived there, saw what was happened, made a break the moment I could, knew a refugee sight wouldn’t hold long.”

“Can’t tell if you’re smart or stupid.”

You shrugged a little, holding your food out to him.

He rose a brow in question, and you made a gesture for him to go ahead and take it.

“I got more.”

“Well I sure as hell don’t want no half eaten one dumbass, what else you got?”

You laughed a little, and opened your bag, pulling out another one for him, and he took it without thanks, and you zipped your bag up.

“What’s your name?” You asked.

“You tell me first.”

“(Y/N).”

“Daryl.”

He looked around, and you did the same thing.

“Foods hard to come by now, why’d you share?”

“My brother always said I was too kind for my own good, I guess that was right. But we’re all in the same shit world, gotta make sure the ones alive stay alive.”

“Your stupid, that’s gonna get you killed pretty fast out here.”

You rolled your eyes, and you put your bag back on your back, grabbing your weapon and jumped down from the rock.

You smiled up at him.

“See you around I guess Daryl. Oh, and here.”

Looking through your pockets, you pulled out a few more power bars you held them out and he jumped down, taking them from you.

You began to walk away.

“Hey, hey wait a second, where you going?”

“I don’t know, just… just somewhere I guess.”

He nodded his head and walked over, he looked you up and down.

“Come on.”

He walked the opposite direction and you looked at him in pure confusion.

“Well hurry up, I ain’t getting myself fuckin’ killed because your dumbass is still standing there.”

Jogging over, you walked alongside of him, and he picked up something from a tree, which held a few small dead animals.

You didn’t say anything about it, knowing you had to do what you needed in order to survive these days.

Neither of you said anything, he didn’t exactly strike you as a bug conversationalist, and you didn’t want him to change his mind about you coming.

Maybe in days long gone you would’ve thought twice about following a stranger, but no you didn’t have those luxuries, he could’ve killed you before you realised he was there, and he didn’t.

In order to survive you needed company, you couldn’t do it on your own, and you wouldn’t be able to keep going along for much longer you knew that.

He led you back to a camp, with other people, and you raised your weapon.

“Put the damn stick down moron.”

“I don’t know if they’re safe.”

“Then why the fuck would you follow me?”

He snatched the stick from you, pushed you back a few steps and you winced, covering your ribs with a pained groan.

“Because I can’t make it on my own asshole.”

“Wait here.”

You nodded, slowly sitting down next to a beat down truck, and watched as he went to go talk to others.

Being able to sit down your pain finally caught up with you, and you passed out from exhaustion and pain.

When you came too again, you were on a bed, somebody holding your hand and you turned your head.

“Lori…?”

She looked up.

“(Y/N)?! Oh god you’re alive, wait here!”

She got up, running out and not even a few seconds later she came back with more people.

The boy jumped on the bed, and you groaned a little bit laughed as you wrapped your arm around him.

“Carl.. hey buddy.. hey…”

“You’re alive…” he sobbed.

“Yeah bud, I won’t let a few suckers bring me down.”

“Carl come on, let’s wait outside.”

Lori introduced you to Carol, and Carol looked you over.

“Dale thinks you’ve probably bruised a couple of ribs, nothing too bad. But your arm we don’t have the medicine for that.” Carol said.

You slowly sat up, swinging your legs over the bed.

“I do, my bag.”

Lori handed it over and you tipped everything out, showing a few bottles of antibiotics.

“Grabbed what I could when I saw the chance.”

“These will work, keep taking them a few times a day.” Lori said.

You nodded and looked out the window.

“Come on, let’s introduce you to everybody, you can stay with me and Carl, and I know Shane wants to see you.”

“Shane? And.. and Rick…?”

Lori looked at you, and you clenched your jaw.

“Lori.. where’s my brother…?”

“Ask Shane…”

You pushed yourself up, moving past her and out of the RV.

You looked around and found Shane, and you made your way over, holding your hand out as he went to hug you.

“Shane where the fuck is my brother? Where’s Rick?”

“He.. (Y/N) he was.. he was shot before all of this… I.. I tried to save him but I.. he was dead…”

Tears burned your eyes and you shook your head.

“He’s not dead…”

“I’m sorry…”

“No… no Shane my brother ain’t dead, you hear me!? He ain’t dead!”

You dropped to your knees despite the pain, and you rested your head on the ground.

“He.. he’s not dead…”

Lori knelt next to you, hugging you tightly as you mourned the loss of your brother.

You didn’t leave the tent for days, you stayed in there, refusing to talk to anybody, refusing to leave.

“(Y/N)?”

You looked up at Carl, and he walked over, sitting next to you, resting his head on your side.

“Do you think my dad could still be out there…?”

“Yeah… he.. he has to be bud…”

He nodded his head, and you ran your fingers through his hair, soothing his quiet cries.

You stared to move around after a week, but you still needed time to rest and fully heal so you couldn’t go on runs or help with much, but you watched the children for everybody.

Carl mostly kept to your side if he wasn’t with his mom.

“I’m cold.” Sophia said.

“Alright, wait here I’ve got a spare blanket in my bag.”

You made your way back to you sister in laws tent, and you stepped in only to freeze at the sight of your sister in law making out with your brothers best friend.

They quickly pulled apart and you grabbed your blanket.

“(Y/N)…” Lori whispered.

“Didn’t take you all that long to get over him huh?”

“No.. not its.. it’s not like that..”

You shook your head.

“I’ll find somewhere else to sleep, and both of you better stay the fuck away from me.”

You left, making your way back to the little girl and you wrapped her up in your blanket.

Going back to the now empty tent, you grabbed your things and set them down by a fire.

“Are you leaving?” Carl asked sadly.

“Nah buddy, I’m staying, I just want somewhere else to sleep for a while cause you snore so loudly.”

He hit your arm and you laughed a little at him.

You didn’t want to share a tent with anybody else, so as they all went to bed you stayed by the embers of the fire.

“Ain’t gonna help much if you die of cold or exhaustion.”

You glanced up, and you shrugged a little.

“Rather not stay in the same tent as my sister in law right now.”

Daryl looked at you, he knew what was going on of course.

He didn’t speak much but he saw a lot, so he knew why you didn’t want to stay in the tent with her.

“Get your shit.”

You looked at him.

“Let’s go.”

You pushed yourself up, and you followed him to his tent where he kicked some stuff aside, gesturing with his hand down the middle.

“You stay on your half, I stay on mine. I ain’t sharing my shit with you though.”

“Deal.”

You sat down, putting your bag under your head and he sat down on his stuff, sharpening a few sticks.

“Hey Daryl?”

“Shut up.”

You laughed again.

“Thanks.”

He said nothing in response.

After a few minutes you felt something hit you in the face and you looked at the sweater in confusion but all he did was get up and leave.

You didn’t want to speak to Lori or Shane, if you wanted peace you would stay in Daryl’s tent knowing that nobody dared to go near it.

“Come on, we’re going to have to talk about what happened!” Shane hissed.

“Get lost!”

“She’s your sister! You can’t just ignore her! She’s beating herself up because you won’t speak to her (Y/N)!”

“Well she should’ve thought about that before cheating on my brother!”

You stormed past Shane and he grabbed your wrist making you wince in pain.

He let go, and was shoved back, and Daryl pushed you towards the tent.

You looked at him but said nothing as you made your way there and Shane left you alone.

“Just break his nose, shuts every guy up.”

“Rather let him suffer knowing he’s the reason I won’t speak to him or her.”

Daryl half shrugged.

“Whatever then, I’m going huntin’. Stay in the tent.”

You nodded and he left.

You decided to take a nap, having sleepless nights made keeping a level head hard, it was easier to sleep knowing that there wasn’t many walkers during the day.

What woke you up was the commotion, and you got up, grabbing your weapon, hand on your ribs as you walked up to the main camp.

You heard Daryl shouting.

“Daryl?! Hey! What’s going on?!”

He pushed himself away from the people, and he looked at you.

“Those fuckers left my brother to die!”

You placed a hand on his chest.

“Then we go find him, alright? Get your stuff, you and me, we’ll go get him. Okay?”

“You can’t go out there asshole, you’re hurt.”

“I don’t give a fuck, he’s your brother. We’ll get him back.”

He nodded, placing a hand on your shoulder and followed him down to his tent to help get everything ready.

Steps came closer and he grabbed his weapon.

“Are you in there?” Lori asked softly.

“What the fuck do you want?” You snapped.

“Come outside, please?”

Sighing, you put your knife down and got up, making your way over to the front of the tent and stepped out.

You looked at her, then your gaze snapped behind her.

“Oh thank god…”

Rick rushed over, pulling you into a hug and you yelped in pain, dropping to your knees.

He quickly dropped in front of you, placing his hand on your shoulder.

“Hey, hey, are you alright? Are you okay?”

“Bruised ribs…”

He nodded, pulling you in for a more gentle hug this time, and you hugged him back, tears streaming down your face.

“You’re alive…” you whispered.

“Course I am….” He whispered back.

Rick held you closely, not wanting to let you go.

It was one thing thinking he lost his wife and son, but he couldn’t bare the thought of loosing his little sister as well.

He placed his hand on the back of your head, trying to hide the fact he was crying.

“I got you… I’ve got you… it’s alright…” he whispered.

“They… they told me you died Rick…”

He pulled away, smiling at you.

“I’m alright, you see? A little worse for wear but I’m alright, we’re safe…”

You nodded, sniffling a little, you clasped your hand tightly around his, and he held back just as tight.

“Whatever goes on now, we go through it together, like when we was kids, yeah?” He asked.

“Us against whatever crap life throws…”

He nodded, giving you smile.

“Yeah.. yeah exactly…”

He looked at you, and he pulled you in for another hug, and you glared at his wife from behind his back and she slowly walked away.

You weren’t going to tell him what you saw, he was safe, and you weren’t going to do anything to put your brother in danger.

You pulled back and looking at your brother again.

“You smell like shit Rick…”

He chuckled, shaking his head at you.

“Well thanks, I missed you too.”

[loycspotting]

Leaving Tumblr

Last night, my account was terminated. I don't know why. I was in the middle of using the site when suddenly I was locked out. No warnings. No announcements. Nothing. I was an absolute wreck. I couldn't eat or sleep. There was no word from Tumblr's management team. I could only explain what happened and sit on my hands. I felt utterly helpless waiting and hoping for a miracle. I had a home here. I had friends who became family. People that I love. Fandom that was my absolute joy and honor to participate in. It was all ripped away for no reason at the drop of a hat. My work. My mutuals. My home. Gone. Just like that. I couldn't say goodbye. I didn't know if or how I'd be able to find my moots again. I was able to create a second account called @loycspotting-thee2 and wracked my brain trying to remember my friends' usernames while terrified that that account would disappear too. I couldn't focus on anything. I was completely distraught. Thankfully, a miracle did happen and my account was magically reactivated. Again, no warning. No one reached out and explained what happened. One moment it was here, gone the next, then here again. In all my years of being on social media, I've never feared that a platform would kick me off like that until last night. I stayed up reading story after story of people who have used Tumblr, some of them holding accounts for YEARS with thousands of followers, logging on just to find it wiped from existence on any random day. This is a serious and repetitive issue, but not apparently to Tumblr. I may not have been a Tumblr user for long, but this incident has irrevocably broken my trust. No amount of saving and cataloging and backing up my account will protect me from being a victim of this website's carelessness. I would always have to worry if I'd be the unlucky user of the day that got their account deleted with no guarantee that it would be reactivated. I cannot and will not live in fear that everything I've created and the home I've found will be taken from me again against my will. Therefore, I have decided that the best option for me is to deactivate my account and say goodbye on my own terms. I am absolutely heartbroken to come to this decision. This has been the most unreal online space. I loved it here! It was everything I've been looking for and I only regret not signing up the first time I heard about it all those years ago. I love being in the Ewan McGregor fandom! Where it's not just a fandom. It's a fanhome 😁. I found my voice here, as well as people who heard me. People who understood me. This was my absolute favorite place to be, bar NONE. I felt fulfilled writing and reviewing. There were so many more things I wanted to do and experience with you guys. It was you who encouraged me. You listened, reblogged, commented, and messaged. You accepted me. From the bottom of my heart I love my mutuals. Even if we don't follow each other, if we've talked or interacted with each other's posts I love you too. I love the passion and creativity flowing through this site. I don't know what will happen with the Ewan McGregor Screentime Percentage project. I'm not ready to quit just yet. Maybe I'll start a Reddit or letterboxd account. Of course, for the writing, I can consider joining Ao3. If you want to keep in touch, then I implore you to message me so we can work something out. The friendships I made here are paramount to everything else. I'm going to leave this up for 9 days (or until I'm terminated again 🙄) to give myself time to get things in order. On September 1st, I will say goodbye.

[its-time-to-write]

This is NOT Jamie Tartt slander. This is two sleep-deprived people making dumb choices because they’re tired. Also, this is so. Freakin. Long. Apologies in advance. Warnings include swearing, fighting, pregnancy? Is that a warning? Basically reader is pregnant and it goes through the first pregnancy test to like when the baby is a month old. Anyway. I never know how to write these intros.

you’re losing me

You and Jamie are young. You are not old. Sure, you’re married after only dating for a year and being engaged for another half a year, but it’s not like much changed from how it was. That band on your left hands gives you both a sense of security, and it’s fun to be the hot young married couple around Richmond. It’s nice to be able to walk around openly and to be called “Mrs. Tarrt,” and to know that this himbo dumbass is going to be making you laugh till you’re old and gray. (Said himbo dumbass told you that’s his favorite nickname). You both excel in your various workplaces and because of that, when you moved into Jamie’s house you were able to keep your flat. It turned out to be a blessing when your younger sister moved to England from another country, so she can be close by without actually being in the same house as you.

All that to say, you were not ready for the little pink stick you were holding at 4pm on a Wednesday.

“Babe?” Jamie calls from the front door, “I’m home! You here?”

Your eyes are glued to those two little lines. “In the bathroom!” you shout. You hear Jamie’s footsteps coming up the stairs into your room.

“Oi listen, Ted told this joke today that went over me head, so I remembered it to ask you and…” he trails off. “Why are you sitting on the floor?”

You turn to look at him, the same shock from five minutes ago still on your face. In an instant, Jamie is kneeling on the floor next to you cupping your face. “Are you alright? Do you need to go to the hospital? Do I need to call someone? Did something happen at work?”

You shake your head. “No, I’m fine, I just- look.” You halfheartedly lift the pregnancy test. Jamie looks down and his face shifts from concern to one of shock then back to concern.

“Are you sure?” he asks softly.

Wordlessly, you point to the sink where there are five pregnancy tests of different brands. All positive.

“Shit,” he whispers. Then: “Wait. Why aren’t you happy bout this? I thought you wanted kids?”

“I do!” you reply a little miserably, “I do, it’s just, we talked about it and I know you really don’t at least not till you’re in your mid-thirties, and I know I told you that I wanted to have them young that one time, but that was before we were dating and I didn’t want to pressure you and I don’t want you to think I did this on purpose because I didn’t but I’m actually really scared about what you’re going to think because I’m so excited, especially because I didn’t even think this was possible.”

You’re not looking at him anymore, but hugging your knees to your chest. You are excited for this baby. You didn’t think you were going to be able to have kids, based on personal issues and family medical history. Or at least, that it would take a lot of time and a lot of doctor’s appointments. The fact that you have a total of six positive pregnancy tests is a miracle in and of itself, but it’s not what you and Jamie planned. And sure, you’re married, but does that really mean you won’t split up? This is pretty big.

All these thoughts are swirling around in your head until-

“Hey.”

Jamie softly tilts your chin up. “Look at me.”

Against your will, tears have started to leak out of your eyes.

“Darling, I ain’t mad. I think mostly I’m just glad you ain’t dyin. This is amazing! We’re going to have a little baby Tartt, and I couldn’t be happier. As long as you’re alright, I’m happy.”

You grab his bicep. “Are you absolutely sure, Jamie?” You need to know. 

He laughs. “Babe, yes. Yes I am. For better or for worse, yeah? Though this really is for better.”

You crack a smile. “Ok. Ok. Yeah, ok.”

Jamie twirls a strand of your hair. “We’ll be ok, yeah? Now let’s get off this floor and go get ice cream. Heard that’s a pregnancy staple. And, on the way, can you explain this joke Ted said? Everyone laughed except me and Will, so I was thinking it’s gotta be...” his voice trails down the hall as you head out the door.

— 

Jamie is funny. Once he decides to do something, he’s all in. He wanted to start telling people the moment you stepped out the door for ice cream. You had to physically put your hand over his mouth to stop him from telling Mae, whom you bumped into on your way. To be honest, you’re sure she knows anyway because Jamie got out a few words and she gave you a knowing look, but she’ll keep it to herself. She’s a good one.

It was only a matter of time before Jamie insisted you start telling the team. He’d say, mid-breakfast, “Babe. You know who would be a great babysitter? Sam. Sam’s one of me best mates. Haven’t kept a secret from him in forever,” with a puppy dog face. 

Or during MarioKart, “What do you think about having Isaac and Colin help with the baby’s room? Isaac’s good at all that construction shit and both you and Colin like to paint. You probably shouldn’t be painting anyway, what with all the fumes.”

Or your personal favorite, during a shower, “Babe. What about Roy and Keeley?”

You: “What about Roy and Keeley?”

Jamie: “They should know. We should tell them. Keeley would flip her shit and I want to see if Roy will cry.”

You: “That’s what you’re thinking about? Here? Now? Good lord, man, I thought you were debating which conditioner to use.”

To be entirely fair, it was about the time to start telling people. You had started stealing Jamie’s shirts claiming that they were more comfortable. They were baggier on you, so they hid the beginnings of your baby bump, and you explained away any questions by reminding people that you wore a lot of layers because you were perpetually cold. However, you were at the point where you were going to have to start telling people, which is how Roy and Keeley ended up at your house for your bi-weekly dinner that you had been delaying for two months.

You had taken approximately two bites of food before Jamie clattered down his fork and said, “We have something to tell you.”

Roy and Keeley looked at you expectantly. You reach under your chair for two bags and place them in front of their plates.

Roy’s face is saying what the fuck as he and Keeley remove the tissue paper and hold up two onesies. A black one that says, newest addition to uncle’s day and a light pink one that says, if you think I’m cute, you should see my aunt. 

They look from the onesies in their hands and then back to you and Jamie. “Surprise!” you say in unison. There is a beat of silence and then Roy says, “That’s fucking great!” at the same time Keeley squeals, “Ohmygod, congratulations!” and then you’re all on your feet hugging. 

“I fucking knew it,” says Keeley. She nudges Roy, “Didn’t I tell you Roy-o? I fucking called it weeks ago! You owe me ten quid.”

“Yeah, yeah,” Roy grumbles as he reaches into his pocket, but that’s as close to a smile he’ll get. “Can’t believe you’re having a kid with this prick,” he says to you, but it’s prick (affectionate) as opposed to prick (derogatory). 

You smile. “You’re the first people we’ve told, other than Jamie’s mum and Simon. You’re the closest thing we have to family here.”

Keeley goes, “Aw, babe,” and Roy just squints at you and lets out a grunt.

“She’s gonna have the coolest family,” Jamie says.

“She?” Keeley asks, “Are you having a girl?”

You roll your eyes. “We don’t know. We’re going to find out tomorrow, and Jamie has been insisting that it’s a girl. He says it’s his ‘dad sense,’ or something like that. I’ve given up telling him that’s not a real thing.”

Jamie shrugs, “I know what I know. Don’t get why we have to go to some bloke with that slimy gel to be told something I’ve been saying for weeks.”

“That bloke with slimy gel is my doctor and an ultrasound, you absolute himbo!” you laugh.

Roy finally cracks a smile, and you spend a comfortable evening together, thinking about how much things are going to change.

— 

A week later, you’re at the Richmond pitch. You walked over from Mae’s, because you were thinking about her chips all afternoon. You ate at least three baskets and she made a sly comment about eating for two. She pinched your cheek as she walked away and then smacked Baz, who was trying to eavesdrop.

You walk into the locker room, coat still on and reach up to kiss Jamie. He’s still a sweaty from practice because none of them have gone to the showers yet, but you don’t mind. 

“You ready?” he asks.

You give your arms a shake. “Ready as I’ll ever be.”

You walk into Ted and Beard’s office, where you asked Rebecca and Higgins to meet. Trent is in there as well, and he looks up in surprise as you walk in.

“Good to see, Mrs. Tartt,” Ted says as he gets up to hug you.

“Hey Ted,” you smile back, going over to hug Rebecca. “How are you all doing?” “Oh you know, biting our nails for whatever it is you guys have to tell us,” Ted replies.

“You’re not leaving, are you?” Rebecca interjects. “I simply cannot handle any more change around here.”

You shake my head. “No, no we’re not leaving. But this is about a change.”

Back in the locker room, the Richmond boys hear a big “WHAT,” from Ted and look over to see you and Jamie getting swarmed by him, Beard, Rebecca, Higgins, and Trent. Isaac looks at Sam and shrugs, bemused. You and Jamie open the door and walk out right under where the “Believe” sign used to be.

You smile and take off your coat, revealing a shirt that says “Tartt in the oven,” and an obvious baby bump.

There is silence as jaws drop and then Isaac says-

“I’m going to be an uncle?”

The locker room erupts in pandemonium with the boys slapping each other on the back firing rapid-fire questions at you and Jamie.

“How long have you been keeping this a secret?”

“Is it a boy or a girl?”

“Are you going to name it after me?”

“Can I be the favorite uncle?”

“Can we help decorate its room?”

Jamie is smiling as big as you’ve ever seen him.

“OI!” Isaac roars. “QUIET. Are we men or are we beasts? One at a time!”

Isaac looks at you two. “Boy or girl?”

Jamie’s eyes glow. “Girl!”

The room erupts once again as Jamie kisses you on the top of your head and pulls you close to him.

—

Labor was… not fun. It wasn’t terrible, but it wasn’t great. There weren’t really complications except for the fact that Jamie was almost not there. See, it’s because your water broke when you were in the shower right before leaving to watch one of Jamie’s games. You looked down at the shower drain and felt your mind race through a million scenarios. Do you text Jamie and make him miss the game? Do you push through as long as you can? Do you have Keeley and Rebecca take you to the hospital? Do you go by yourself?

As you’re considering, you think of laying in bed the night before. The baby was kicking and Jamie was tracing patterns on your stomach whispering, “Baby Tartt doo doo doo-doo doo-doo.”

He would hate to miss this.

You make a choice and call Keeley.

Thirty minutes later you’re in Rebecca’s box waiting for the game to start. You have contractions, sure, but you’ve been having them for a while. The doctor said it was nothing to worry about, so you didn’t worry. 

That means that Keeley and Rebecca don’t worry as you grip the arm of your seat and blow out a long breath.

Keeley absentmindedly pats your arm and Rebecca slings hers around your shoulders.

“Don’t go having this baby now,” she jokes, “Wait till after we’ve won.”

You force out a laugh. If only she knew.

You have to get up and walk after the first half because the contractions are starting to get closer together. Rebecca notices and gets up to come inside and see you.

“Are you alright?” she asks.

You look at her without saying anything and her eyes widen. 

“Shit,” she says. “How long has this been happening?”

“Since right before I left,” you gasp out, “My water broke in the shower and I didn’t want- shit.” You bend over from a contraction before continuing, “I didn’t want to miss Jamie’s game and it’s fine, right? It’s not until they’re three minutes apart that it really matters.”

“And how long are yours?” Rebecca asks.

You don’t want to look at her. “Six,” you whisper.

“SIX?” she yells. “Darling, you need to go. I’ll call Ted, he’ll pull Jamie, and then you’ll go.”

Keeley has come in by this point and fully assessed the situation. “Babes, you can’t stick around till the game ends. You have to go.”

You hold up a hand. “I’m fine. Richmond needs Jamie. It can wait.”

Rebecca clicks her tongue. “I’m not sure if you’ve noticed, but we’re up by two and also it’s just a football game. It doesn’t matter. You are about to have a child so let me get your husband for you.” 

“Ok,” you say meekly. “Can I come with you?”

Rebecca calls Ted and you wait by the entrance to the pitch. Ted has barely put out the call to switch out number nine when Jamie is sprinting across the field to you. You’re at the hospital in record time, and that’s how Beatrice Georgie Tartt is born.

—

You and Jamie had a lot of conversations about what it’s like to be parents. You had the standard “What if I turn out like my dad,” chat (easily dispelled by the fact that he takes after his mum) and the “Baby comes before football,” chat which you needed to hear but definitely did not retain. That one was difficult for both of you, because you didn’t mind pausing your career for motherhood. You knew it would be waiting for you when you were ready to go back, but that isn’t really the case for Jamie. He’s in his prime right now, and it takes a lot of work. You had worked things out on paper, but life is never that easy. Newborns require a lot of attention, and  neither of you were sleeping well. Jamie had taken two weeks off training but was back by the third. The only problem was, he was back to his regular 4am training. It’s easy to get enough sleep when you can pick when you go to bed, but not so much when your daughter needs to be fed, changed, burped, whatever every single hour. 

In other words, you both were tired and snippy.

Bea was four and a half weeks old when the last straw came.

It was 2:30 am, and you was so, so tired. She needed a diaper change and you felt like you physically couldn’t get out of bed so you poked Jamie.

“Babe,” you say.

“Hm,” he groans, voice gravelly.

“Can you please change her? I can’t move,”

“Don’t know if you’ve noticed babe, but I have training with Roy in an hour. I can’t get up every time she needs something. That’s your job.”

Instantly, you are wide awake.

You’ve never heard Jamie take that tone of voice with you before. Never heard it be that intentionally cutting. 

You sit up. “Excuse me?”

He rolls over to face you. “You heard me. I don’t have time for this right now. It’s your job, you take care of it. This is not what I signed up for and anyway, you’re the one who wanted a baby, not me. You go deal with it.” He rolls back over to go to sleep and you just stare at him. You're too tired to fight but then Bea cries again and you say, “Jamie what the fuck.” 

“Look, babe, I can always go stay in a hotel and get some sleep. You’re the one who wants me to be here with you,” he replies, voice muffled by the pillow.

“Don’t ‘look, babe’ me, Jamie Tartt,” you say, voice icy. “I’m not sure if you recall, but you were the one who told me that Bea would always come before football and you are the one who decided you wanted to get married and you were the one who made all those speeches convincing me that you’d be with me for better or for worse. Well I’ve got news for you: it’s worse.” You get out of bed. “I’m going to change our daughter, and I hope next time I see you, you’ve had an attitude adjustment.”

That must get to him because he sits up and goes, “Babe-” but you’re already out the door.

You end up sitting with Bea on her rocker until 5am, which means you hear Jamie get up to leave with Roy. It also means you notice that he doesn’t come in to say goodbye, just leaves. You stare down at Bea in your arms. She has his eyes and the beginnings of your nose. By 6am you’ve made another choice, and you call your sister to ask her to help move some of your things into your old flat.

—

You leave a note on the counter that says: Jamie. Bea and I are giving you space, and you’re gone by 1. You spend all evening looking at your phone, waiting for a text from Jamie, or a call, or something. Nothing. Your sister doesn’t need much of an explanation and it’s your flat anyway, so she was alright with you and Bea moving in. She made dinner and held Bea, then forcibly made you go to sleep. Her work is flexible, so she said she’d take care of Bea until she had to leave on a trip in two days. 

Yet, although you finally had the chance to sleep, you couldn’t. You tossed and turned all night, periodically checking your phone for a text that never came.

—

A week and a half has gone by. Your sister is gone still, so it’s just you and Bea. She’s been crying so much recently, and the thought comes to you unbidden of every time Jamie has held her. She quiets down the moment she’s in his arms like clockwork. You’re running on no sleep and you need to go get groceries so that morning you pack up a diaper bag, put Bea in the car, and force yourself not to care that you look like absolute shit. 

You’re almost done shopping when you hear a voice call your name. You turn, and there’s Sam.

“I thought that was you,” he says. “I’ve been meaning to check up on you so I went by your house yesterday, but Jamie said you and Bea were out and he didn’t know when you’d be back. How are you?”

You let out a snort. “Oh he did, did he? That’s rich.”

Sam’s face shifts to concern. “Is everything alright? I don’t mean to pry, but part of the reason I wanted to see how you are is that Jamie has been terrible. He’s been an absolute prick for almost two weeks now and we all just assumed it was lack of sleep.”

You smile, because right now your options are that or cry.

“I’m living in my flat right now. My sister’s on vacation, so it’s just me and Bea. It’s kind of a lot, which is why I look like garbage. I don’t have time to clean or anything either, otherwise I’d invite you around. Anyway. Thanks for asking. Good to see you, Sam.” 

You walk away before you either overshare more or start crying, and in your haste you don’t see Sam watching you leave, concern written all over his face.

—

It’s the late afternoon when you hear a knock on your door. It’s Jamie your heart says, but when you open it, Sam, Dani, and Richard are standing on the step laden down with grocery bags, huge smiles on their face.

Before you can say anything, Sam says, “I hope this is not overstepping, but I noticed you had frozen meals in your cart this morning. I was thinking that we could cook you some meals to keep in the freezer, that way you do not have to worry about it.” You open your mouth to protest when Dani interjects. “Besides, we’re a family. Bea is my favorite niece and you are my second favorite sister. We should have seen if you needed help earlier.”

They look so sincere that you smile for the first time in a while and move to let them in. Richard goes to work clearing space in the kitchen while Sam and Dani organize their groceries. It looks like they’ve all gotten ingredients from their native countries, and Dani holds up a bag of chiles and says, “I brought these to make your favorite!” 

You’re not sure how he knows of your love for chile rellenos, but he does and as you go to sit on the couch to feed Bea, you feel something close to relief.

Bea is done eating and the kitchen is filled with light conversation and music when there is another knock on your door.

You open it to see Isaac, Colin, Zoreaux, Bumbercatch, and Jan Maas all decked out in cleaning gear and rubber gloves, holding various cleaning sprays, brooms, and mops.

To say you are speechless is an understatement.

“Sam texted us,” Isaac says. “Said something about needing a cleaning service and a babysitter.”

You let them in without a word.

The flat is filled with chatter as they stand around the living room. 

“Alright!” Isaac calls. “We’re going to divide and conquer! Colin, you’re on laundry. Zoreaux, you’re sweeping and mopping. Bumbercatch and Jan Maas, you’re on bathroom duty. Alright lads, let’s go!”

“Isaac,” Colin says, “what’s your job?”

Isaac looks at him. “I’m the captain, mate. I’m watching Bea.”

Groans go up from the boys and a chorus of “We want to hold her, why do you get to, I’m her favorite!” when Isaac silences them with an “Oi!”

“When you’ve finished your job and Bea and I have thoroughly inspected them, then maybe you can hold her after you’ve disinfected your hands and arms. Now get to it!”

“Isaac,” you say, pulling on his arm, “you don’t have to do this. Especially not the laundry or the bathrooms.”

He looks down at you, serious look on his face. “Is that for privacy reasons, or are you trying not to impose?”

You hesitate and debate lying. In the end, you tell the truth: “I don’t care about like privacy or whatever, it’s just gross. I don’t want you guys to have to do that.”

Isaac doesn’t respond, just says, “Can I wear the wrap?” so you go to get it and watch as he expertly puts it on and slides Bea in. She lets out a sigh and falls asleep on his chest.

“Right then. Now for your job,” he says to you.

You let out a singular laugh. “What do you have for me, captain?”

“I want you to go to your room, clear off the bed, close the door, and go to sleep. I’ll send Sam or Colin up to wake you if we need you. If you end up sleeping through then night, a few of us will stick around to make sure Bea’s alright. You still have Netflix, yeah?”

“Yeah,” you say. You start to head down the hall then turn and say, “Isaac?”

“Hm?” he replies.

“Thanks. This means more to me than you’ll ever know.”

Isaac waves that away then points to your bedroom door.

You walk in and shut the door, then are lulled to sleep by the white noise of having half of the Richmond team in your house cleaning, cooking, and reminding you that you are not alone.

— 

You’re woken up by Sam shaking your shoulder. It’s golden hour, so soft light streams through the room. The first thing you notice is how quiet it is. You sit up.

“What’s wrong?” you ask.

“Nothing’s wrong,” Sam says, but he’s not smiling. “We just need you downstairs for a minute.”

You follow him to the living room where the boys are standing behind a couch, arms crossed and backs to you, staring down something on the opposite couch.

Sam clears his throat and they turn to look at you. Bea is still passed out on Isaac in her wrap. They part slightly and you see what they’re looking at.

Jamie Tartt gives you a halfhearted wave from where he sits on your couch.

“Got a minute?” he asks.

Shit.

You sit across from him and just look.

He has the grace to look sheepish. “Look, d’you mind if we talk- like just you and me? Without-” he gestures to the boys.

“No,” Dani, Colin, and Jan Maas chorus, arms crossed, and Jamie nods once in a that’s fair type of way.

Jamie takes a deep breath. “Look, I- I was out with Roy today and we were training, and he called me a prick and he meant it, and maybe I was being a prick, but I shoved him and then he knocked me down and was all ‘what the fuck is wrong with you,’ and I said ‘none of your fucking business,’ and then he said something about a text from Sam and made me tell him what was going on. So I told him that you left and he said,” here Jamie does his best Roy Kent impression, “‘Did she leave or did you fucking kick her out because you were acting like a little bitch prima donna who can’t handle being a grown fucking man?’”

Jamie pauses for a moment. “So I thought about it, and I did fuckin kick you out like I was a little bitch prima donna. And the reason I didn’t text ya or call ya is because I thought you’d come back when you were ready, or maybe you left for good and I fucked something else up. And I didn’t want to be like me dad who was always showing up when my mum didn’t want him to, so I just stayed away. And I said that to Roy and he told me I needed to man the fuck up because I was acting like a whiny brat.” Jamie scratches the back of his neck. “I brought you flowers and came to apologize and tell you that I’m done acting like a kid.”

You squint at him and say, “Apologize for what, exactly?” because you want to know that he knows what he did.

Without hesitation Jamie says, “For telling you that Bea was your job and not mine, and for saying that I didn’t sign up for any of this and making it seem like I didn’t care and saying that I was going to sleep in a hotel by meself.”

Oh. So he does know.

There’s a ripple of whispered oh fucks and you realize that the lads don’t actually know what happened between you and Jamie, and this is the first time they’re hearing about it.

Before you can say anything, Jan Maas says, “How do we know you’ve changed?” followed by a chorus of “Yeah, that’s right,” from the boys.

“Eh, well,” Jamie begins before he is interrupted by a piercing cry from Bea. Isaac tries to hush her, but she just keeps going.

“There’s no way she’s hungry,” he says, “She just had a bottle fifteen minutes ago and I changed her five minutes after that.”

Jamie looks questioningly at you. “Can I-”

The whole team turns to look at you. You nod, and Isaac removes a still crying Bea and gently hands her to Jamie. She’s barely settled into his arms when she has gone completely silent, lets out a sigh, and falls asleep.

“I suppose that is that,” says Richard, and the rest of AFC Richmond shrugs.

“Jamie Tartt,” you say. Everyone looks at you again. “If you ever, and I mean ever pull shit like this again, I will fucking sic this entire room on you and I will call Roy and I will not care how long you end up in the hospital. I can’t raise Bea on my own, but it turns out that I don’t need you.”

Jamie looks like he’s about to cry a little and you soften.

“I don’t need you, but I want you. And- I do miss you.”

Jamie smiles at that and you get up to sit next to him. 

The boys murmur amongst themselves, and Isaac salutes you as he herds them out. You mouth thank you to him, and he waves it away yet again, leaving the three of you on the couch in comfortable silence for the first time in weeks.

—

Marriage is not easy, neither is raising a kid. Things didn’t automatically go back to how they were, but you and Jamie did get better. You got better at talking about your struggles, decided 2:30am is not a good time to fight, and began working out a healthy football-life balance. He trains with Roy three times a week instead of six, and Isaac and Colin babysit Bea once a month so you can go out. They’re the only ones besides Rebecca who are allowed to be with her unsupervised. (Not because the others are untrustworthy, but because they don’t know what to do with a baby) so by the time Theodore Dani Tartt comes around, you’ve got this thing nailed.

[katakaluptastrophy]

Thinking about how the one time John ever mentions being happy is when he was 'playing Jesus':

"I spent hours and hours a day playing Jesus. That was nice, those were some of the nicest hours I got to spend."

About teenage John who went to a music festival for the underage drinking and ended up getting baptised:

"She applied to the Vatican to argue about whether or not it was a miracle because I’d been baptised. Didn’t mention that I’d only gone to Parachute ’cause of the underage drinking."

About how hard M-'s nun was trying to impose a Catholic interpretation on what was happening:

"The ships on the launchpad, twenty hours to go now, less. So much waiting around. Me in my bedroom with a nun and a migraine, her thinking that if she pushed me enough we’d instantiate the Trinity and we’d all be saved. Everyone else drinking. The clock ticking louder than ever before."

About how both the nun and C- tell him he's playing at being the wrong kind of saviour:

"M—’s nun was all, Are you kidding, Christ never said no and never asked anyone to pay and got way too much attention and brought the heat down on everybody. Christ didn’t keep to office hours, she said. Don’t do that."

"C— said, John, your problem is that you care less about being a saviour than you do about meting out punishment."

How everyone was expecting him to do something:

"It was only a matter of time before someone I loved caught a bullet that I couldn’t bring them back from. I needed to do something. I couldn’t do anything."

How he watched M-'s nun shoot herself in front of him on the strength of her belief that he had been sent to do the will of God:

"John, don’t misunderstand. I want to help you. I truly believe that in our most terrible hours we don’t instinctively reach out to God; we push ourselves away from Him. Don’t feel bad for not rising heroically to the occasion right now. Fear doesn’t help us achieve a state of grace; it deafens the heart. John, I truly believe you can save everyone. So concentrate, please. She said, Holy Mary, Mother of God, pray for us sinners, now and at the hour of our death. And she shot herself."

How John 'became God' and it still wasn't enough.

"He said, As the world went up I remade us both. I hid me in you … I hid you in me. And when we were together … once the shaman had claimed the sun … I became God. He said, It wasn’t enough."

And how when John re-made the world, he made a Catholicism centred around how he did it right:

"“But that’s the grace of it, Harrow. If I’m God, I can start over."

[teez-the-time]

Strawberries and Wine

Pairing: Consort! Seonghwa x Emperor! Fem! Reader

Genre: fantasy, romance, smut

Synopsis: as an Emperor, you liked to indulge in the pleasantries of life. The shiniest jewels, the best wines, the tastiest delicacies. But in the years of your reign, you had never found something as exquisite as the lips of Park Seonghwa.

Warnings: switch! lean dom! reader, switch! sub lean! Seonghwa, masturbation (f and m receiving), oral sex (f), breast play, piv sex, riding, dry humping, grinding, a lil food play, alcohol consumption (no drunk characters), pretty vanilla actually, body wordship, my characters are whipped as usual, pls tell me if I miss something

Wc: 9.1k

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A/N. What's this? Me actually posting a fic? Make a wish, people, cause a miracle has happened. Anyway, I humbly offer you this Hwa x reader fic, I hope you enjoy it. Please pretend that I actually know how to write smut and that I don't suck at it. Also, let's pretend this isn't totally inspired by the Webtoon, "Men of the Harem". Go read it if you haven't. Any like, comment, message, reblog, etc. is highly appreciated. My DMs are open as always. See you later!

XOXO

-May

“I believe that was the last engagement for the day, Your Majesty,” your trustworthy secretary, Marquis Kim Hongjoong, announced.

You rolled back your neck, releasing little pops of accumulated stress from the long day. Your eyes almost cried in relief when you closed them for more than a couple of seconds, having been subjected to the harsh candlelight for hours. “That is good to hear. It’s already very late. You may be excused, Hongjoong, and thank you for today”.

Your secretary stood up beside your desk, slightly bowing his head as he held a thick stack of papers underneath his arm. “If my services aren’t required any longer, then I’ll be on my way, ma’am. Have a pleasant night, Your Majesty”.

For a couple of seconds, only Hongjoong’s steps could be heard in your office room. You were putting away letters, documents and your beloved stationary when a little note tucked away in one of your drawers reminded you of something.

Poor Hongjoong had a hand on the door knob when you called out for him. “Wait, Hongjoong!”

“Yes, ma’am?” he inquired after being stopped seconds away from freedom. He looked worried from your sudden abrasiveness.

“I had almost forgotten to ask,” you explained, “did you inform Lord Park Seonghwa of my visit tonight?”

Hongjoong wanted to sigh from relief, as well as laugh at the mention of your little appointment with the young noble, Lord Park Seonghwa. “Yes, Your Majesty. His Grace and his entourage were made aware of your intentions of passing by tonight”.

“Good, good.” You spaced out and forgot to add something else to that sentence, but was suddenly called back to Earth when you saw your poor Hongjoong still standing by the door like a dog waiting to get out. “Now you are truly dismissed. Sorry to keep you here”.

“No worries, ma’am,” he assured you, finally leaving you alone in your office. Just you and your thoughts of that commitment with none other than your adored Park Seonghwa. At last, something exciting in your day after many hours of meetings with your court, and mountains of papers with budgets, reports, complaints and many more.

God, you thought, it’s depressing to still be thinking about work. I guess it's inevitable if you want to run an empire.

You finished picking up after yourself and blew out what remained of the candles. They had just been replaced that day, but you would need to call for someone to put even more the next day. 

I guess I will have to set aside a budget for candles.

The halls of the palace were considerably more empty in the late hours of the night, but that didn’t stop you from running into several maids and guards on their nightly duties. They all bowed to you and waited until you were far enough to continue with their tasks. In those moments, you thought that, no matter how bothersome and grueling your responsibilities could get, at least you didn’t have to stand up for hours on end or wash silverware in the middle of the night.

Near your chambers appeared to be the busiest. You opened the door to find your maids awaiting to assist you in your nightly routine. They curtsied at your arrival, and hastily dragged you to your vanity to begin dressing you down.

“Look at these hours!” one exclaimed while removing the pins of your hair, “Your Majesty must be so tired after such a long day. Should we draw a bath with those special salts for you to relax, ma’am? Then we can serve you some lavender tea for sleep”.

“You are a dear to me,” you thanked her and the others, “I’ll gladly take the offer of the bath, but I’m afraid I won’t be staying the night here. I plan to visit Lord Park, so please draw me that bath and fetch my robe”.

They giggled. “As you wish, Your Majesty”.

The hands were the most delicate when removing your makeup, hair and clothes. They rubbed away the stress of work and replaced it with the most pleasant of oils and perfumes. Indeed, they were masters of the art of polishing the body and the soul. Before you realized, you were already dressed in your nightgown and the robe that you reserved for these occasions.

“Is there anything else we can help Your Majesty with?” another one asked.

“I’m afraid not. Thank you once again. Please retire to your chambers for some sleep. We will have to wake up very early tomorrow!”

“Yes, ma’am!”

They curtsied as they left, and you could hear some of their giddy laughter and hushed voices just before the door closed. They loved gossip, even if it was about the whereabouts of their emperor (which was no secret to anyone). You let them entertain themselves however they wanted, choosing to keep them content as they were the people that spend the most time with you.

You sat in your vanity once more to contemplate their work. There was no sign of fatigue or worry in the face that looked back at you from the mirror. Quite the contrary. You looked more refreshed and rested than you had in weeks, all thanks to the magical wonders of your maids.

There was nothing you could do better in your appearance, so you decided to leave before you could consider staying in your chambers. While that thought seemed pleasant, a more promising option awaited you at one of the wings of the palace.

The wing reserved for the royal consorts was exquisite and lavish. Several rooms expanded around, forming a circle with a marble fountain in the middle depicting two lovers embracing each other with the utmost intensity. A dome was constructed on top of it, so the lovers were perpetually bathed in sunshine or moonlight. The floors were carpeted with the finest rugs imported from exotic lands in faraway continents. No speck of dust could be found on any corner, and all vases were always kept full with your favourite flowers. All the artwork was seasonally changed and handpicked by the emperors themselves according to their consorts' tastes. After all, it was the emperors' duty to pamper them and keep them content.

Having prided enough in your work at the consort wing, you began walking through the left part of the circle. Despite being able to hold many guests, most of the chambers were empty. In your short reign as emperor, you had only taken four consorts, without planning to add more in the foreseeable future. As a female emperor, it wasn’t a good look for your legacy to be remembered for promiscuity rather than your political achievements. Also, you were quite content with whom you had chosen to be your lovers.

Normally, the consort wing was brewing with life, always full of servants and guards waiting on your partners. While it could be refreshing to breathe that atmosphere, it was undeniable that the emperor’s visit was a cause of drama in the palace. Everyone was always eager to learn who were you coming to see, what you talked about and what to expect, and no doubt the speculation resulted in scheming that you weren’t ready to discover just yet. That’s why you tried to keep your appearances late and spaced in between, just to keep gossip at bay.

And, maybe, add some excitement too.

Seonghwa’s room was the farthest away, much to your dislike. Nevertheless, the wait made your little escapade even more thrilling. You reached the door, softly knocking on the sturdy wood. A few seconds passed and no one answered it. You knocked again, and still no answer. By now, one of Seonghwa’s servants would have opened it to let you go in, but tonight didn’t seem to be the case. Starting to get worried, you grabbed the knob and tried to push it open by yourself. Surprisingly, it offered no resistance and you found yourself inside Seonghwa’s chambers. You were preparing to scold him for his imprudence of leaving a door unlocked at night when the most pleasant of smells inundated your nostrils.

At first, it was just the sweet aroma of vanilla and jasmine, but the more you breathed in, the richer the smell got. Soon enough, your mind was floating along with the scent, making you relax into the atmosphere. It reminded you of something hidden in the depths of the soul. Desire. It wasn’t strong nor overpowering, but it lingered there, just barely out of reach .

When you shook out the initial stupor of the aroma, you scanned the room looking for your companion for the night. Normally, he would be waiting for you in one of the exquisite sofas and chairs of the sitting area before the door, but tonight he wasn’t there either. 

Apparently, the young lord had made sure that your night was full of oddities.

After a few more seconds of appreciating the neatness and taste of Seonghwa’s bedchambers, your eyes fell into the sleeping area. The furniture around the bed was lit up with soft candles, and a few scenting oil containers laid open, explaining the delicious odor that greeted you. A bottle of wine and two glasses waited for you at the coffee table in front of the chaise lounge that sat in front of the bed. That was, certainly, a direct clue to move there.

As you got closer, you saw that the drapes of the bed were completely closed, but the light from the candles illuminated the silhouette of a man sitting inside. With big strides and a grin, you closed the distance even more.

“My, my, what do we have here?” you asked in a teasing tone, one hand laying on the back of the chaise lounge. You circled it and sat down on the plush cushions, crossing one leg over the other and leaning back into one arm. “Looks like someone is hiding from me. Where did my precious Seonghwa go?”.

A deep chuckle came from within the curtains. “Not very far, Your Majesty”.

“My, my, there he is!” you poured yourself a glass of wine from the bottle that awaited you on the coffee table before the chaise lounge. It was yours and Seonghwa’s favourite. “What an odd feeling to not have you welcome me into your chambers. Playing hard to get, aren’t we?”

His rich laugh resonated once again in the room and you could see he shifted his position a little from the candlelight. “Your Majesty should know by now that familiarity breeds contempt”.

“That is very true, darling,” you sipped the wine, “but I will admit that seeing you that eager has always been my favourite part of the day. Perhaps you are right and I’ve spoiled my puppy too much, so now he is bored of me. I guess I’ll have to go to one of the other consorts…”

Slight panic rose to Seonghwa’s voice, but he managed to save face in time. “Quite on the contrary. I thought that Your Majesty might start getting bored of our encounters, so I thought a little change was due”.

Your heart fluttered at Seonghwa’s thoughtfulness, but you weren’t done playing with him. “What a kind puppy I have got here. Thank you for thinking about me, but remember I’m the one who makes the decisions here”.

“Yes, ma’am,” he said, but you heard a little mischief there.

Still, you decided to let it slide once. “Either way, I’m feeling extra generous tonight, so I’ll follow your little plan for a while. So, tell me, where do we go from here, my darling?”.

Seonghwa shifted once more in his bed. His shadows danced across the fabric of the drapes. 

“Well,” he started, “I believe that Your Majesty has already made herself comfortable on my chair, but I’m afraid that none of what I intend on doing tonight makes use of it. So, why don’t you come closer, ma’am?”.

Now, you thought, he is using that charm of his. A little bit longer and I would’ve gone to get him myself.

You stood from your resting position, not leaving behind your glass. Not long after, you stood at the foot of the bed, one hand gripping the opening of the lace drapes, eagerly waiting to reveal your lover’s form.

The sight in front of you left you drunker than the wine on your lips could ever. 

In the many years that he had resided in your palace, you had commissioned dozens of artists to portray the beauty of the young lord, Park Seonghwa. But, even after having a room full of just paintings of him in every position imaginable, you still had yet to acquire any piece of art that could rival the one sitting before your very eyes.

Seonghwa sat between the plush pillows and cushions at the head of the bed. His posture was relaxed, with his legs slightly crossed and one arm supporting most of his upper torso. His robe was barely tied, leaving almost the entirety of his torso exposed. Not that it would have been of much help, given the scandalous sheerness of the garment, which left little to the imagination. His neck, ears and fingers were littered with the golden shine of the jewelry you had especially commissioned to compliment his tan complexion. Your eyes found purchase of every inch of his small waist and defined limbs. He was carefully sculpted by the gods, even if he politely declined any comment made towards his appearance.

One trait you loved about Seonghwa was his eyes. They never lied. You could tell what he was feeling from a simple stare. Right now, many things flashed through them

Desire. Lust. Adoration.

You stood there without moving except to sip on your wine once again. As you stared at him, you noticed that one of his hands laid inside a crystal bowl. Never removing his eyes from yours, he raised it to his plump lips and opened his mouth. His tongue darted out to receive whatever it was that his hand carried and, for a moment, you saw a glint. He let you see the ruby-like gem before he closed his mouth and bit down on it slowly. A slight smirk adorned his face.

He knew you. He knew you liked jewelry. And him.

“Oh?” you exclaimed while looking at the bowl once again, seeing it full with more of the gems, “Is that candy?”

His smile grew wider. “Yes, Your Majesty. The finest of your empire.”

“I see, very interesting. Will you tell me which flavor is it?”

He grabbed one more piece of candy and showed it to you. The light from the candles bounced off it, making it look like a real ruby. “That, ma’am, is something you will have to find out”.

You arched your eyebrow at him in a questioning manner. “Is the puppy going to keep me guessing? Well then, bring it here so I can taste it myself”.

With your command, Seonghwa got on his knees and crawled over the bed towards you, bringing one of the damned candies with him. The closer he got, the more breathtaking he looked. Part of you wanted to order him to stop with his act, but the other part loved seeing his sensual side on display for you. Also, deep inside, you were too soft to ruin his fun.

His head towered slightly over yours. From that distance, you could see every detail of his face, including the nonexistent imperfections. Without a word, your hand scanned his jaw, chin and neck until you felt the cold of one of his gold chains, leaving it there. With your other hand, you grabbed the candy gem and brought it closer to both of your heads. You twirled it twice on your fingers before putting it against Seonghwa’s lips. Not wasting a second, he opened his mouth and let the candy fall on it like it had done earlier. Before closing it again, he playfully licked the tip of your index finger. 

What a naughty puppy.

You grabbed his chin and put your face even closer to his. “You are playing a dangerous game, my darling”.

He had barely swallowed the candy when you closed the space between you with a kiss. Immediately, Seonghwa reciprocated, closing his eyes and grabbing you by your waist and shoulder.

Strawberry. He tasted like strawberries.

You took advantage of the kiss to let your hands explore even more of the body you saw earlier. His skin was as soft and warm as always, but you never got tired of how it felt against yours. Your fingers slid inside his robe and slowly dragged it down his shoulders, leaving even more skin exposed. You wanted all of it. All of him.

You separated from the kiss to get some air, but apparently it wasn’t enough for Seonghwa. He latched himself on the juncture of your neck and jaw, peppering open-mouthed kisses on every inch of your skin that you could find. You let out a content sigh, and weaved your fingers through his hair, knowing he loved when you did that. His hands held you firmly by your waist, pulling you flush against himself. Bit by bit, his kisses went lower until he reached the neck of your nightgown.

Through the years, you had learnt that Seonghwa was addicting. There was never “just a bit” with him. It was all or nothing. And that’s what you intended tonight. Take all of him.

In more than one way.

“As much as I would love to stay like this all night long,” you said while pushing Seonghwa slightly off of your chest, “I’m afraid my legs will give out at some point. Perhaps we should take this further into the bed”.

Seonghwa said nothing. Still, he got up from his kneeling position and down the bed, grabbed your hand and walked around the furniture and sat on the edge of it near the pillows. While smiling, he placed your hands back on his shoulders and pulled you between his legs. He looked at you from beneath, expecting you to follow along with his plans for you.

“I’m also afraid of tiring Your Majesty’s legs before we have even begun,” he shooted you a smirk. “Why don’t you take a seat so I can take care of you, ma’am?”

He didn’t even wait for your answer before grabbing your behind and pulling you with force to himself. You let out a yelp and fell down on him. While he laughed at you, you tried to pull yourself up by pressing down on his shoulders and putting your legs on each side of his. In any other situation you would’ve also laughed with him, but you wanted to keep control for a little longer.

“What a naughty puppy,” you exclaimed, grabbing Seonghwa by his jaw to shut him up. “Good thing you that I love you a little too much. Otherwise I would have your head on a plate”. You didn’t really mean that, but you noticed that Seonghwa’s eyes lit up a bit when you said love. “You will pay me back another day”.

“It’ll be my pleasure,” he replied, “but let me enjoy myself a little longer”.

He captured your lips once more. Somewhere in your conversation he had gained a confidence you had only witnessed a handful of times. He didn’t hesitate to remove your robe from your body, letting it fall to the floor without a care. He didn’t hesitate while pulling you to sit entirely on his lap, making you feel everything underneath. He didn’t hesitate while looking at you in a way no one dared to before.

The adoration you had towards this man felt way too much for a moment, and you got scared. So, you decided to avoid your feelings for a little longer by kissing him again, praying that he wouldn’t notice how different you were acting tonight. And if he did, he didn’t show.

At one point, during your touching, Seonghwa had lost that goddamned robe, leaving the both of you in nothing but your underwear. You could feel the heat radiating from each other, almost too hot to the touch but not enough to make you pull away. As much as you could spend eternity just kissing Seonghwa’s strawberry lips, you were starting to feel impatient and the man could tell.

It started slow, barely enough for you to feel at first. He had broken the kiss to leave more marks on your neck and naked chest. His hands gripped your hips, anchoring you to his crotch. The space between you was almost non-existent. Little by little, he started to move your hips along his, igniting sparks of pleasure throughout your body. In no time, he accompanied it with movements of his own pelvis, creating the perfect amount of friction to send you into overdrive.

One particularity of Seonghwa was his ability to make every movement enticing. After all, there was a time he was known as the best dancer and performer in your whole land, seeked and desired by hundreds, and it was that reputation that had drawn you towards him in the first place. Every move of his appeared calculated enough to look tempting yet effortless, and here you were paying the price of that talent by being subjected to one of the most sublime pleasures known to humankind.

At one point, Seonghwa had stilled your hips, opting for grinding his against them. This ensured that you could feel the entirety of his erection pressing against every part of your core, all the way from your entrance to your clit. After a while of receiving this tortuous treatment, you were climbing a peak you weren’t ready yet to reach.

You stilled his movements by pressing your hand against his hard on, which earned you a whine from Seonghwa. You almost went back into a desperate grinding after hearing that delicious noise, but you held back. “I’m afraid that if we continue with this much longer, both you and I won’t last enough to get to whatever you wish to do”.

“You don’t have to worry about me, ma’am” he teased you with a cheeky grin. “I can continue all night long, Your Majesty”.

You grabbed him by the back of his head once again and got your faces close. “Y/N”. He blinked a couple times in confusion, so you repeated yourself once again. “Y/N. It’s Y/N when I’m with you”.

Now it was Seonghwa’s turn to pray that you didn’t notice how fast his heart was beating from your statement. One would think that he had loved you enough time for your name to roll easily from his lips, but it wasn’t the case at all. It was impossible when some days, your sole presence was enough to make him nervous. It was impossible when sometimes he looked at the other consorts and it made his blood boil. It was impossible when he knew that using your name meant owning a part of you, something he would never be able to do given the nature of your relationship.

Nevertheless, he allowed the syllables to run through his tongue, even if they stinged. “Well then, I can continue all night long, Y/N”.

He didn’t give you time to reply, because in one moment he was leaving a peck on your lips, and on the other you were swiftly being turned around and laid against the pillows of the bed. You gasped in surprise at the same time that Seonghwa let out the most beautiful laugh you had ever heard.

And what would you not do to hear it again.

“You little scoundrel!” you exclaimed. “You have absolutely no idea what you are getting yourself into. Next time you’ll see how well it goes for you!”

Seonghwa positioned himself on top of you, his chest almost pressed against yours. He shot you another mischievous grin. “I’ll be waiting eagerly, then”.

He left a kiss on the column of your throat, so soft it was barely there. Then he left another one a little lower. Then another. And another. And another, until he reached your sternum. Your eyes fluttered when he started moving upwards towards one of your breasts. He used one of his hands to trace mindless patterns across your stomach, hips and waist. The tender stimulation was starting to heighten the heat in your core, somewhat lost in the brief moments you had stopped rubbing on Seonghwa. Finally, it reached an all-time peak when his warm tongue enveloped your right nipple.

“Ah!” you let out with a moan. He continued his assault on your breast, sucking and licking on your sensitive mound. After some moments of this treatment, he brought the hand that had been on your hip and used it to massage the forgotten bud. Then, he switched sides, continuing his ministrations on both of your nipples. It felt good. So good that you started rubbing your thighs together, hoping to get some friction and relieve some of that growing heat.

Seonghwa took notice of your impatience and decided to act on it. He unlatched his mouth from your bud, replacing it with his other hand. Meanwhile, he left a trail of open-mouthed kisses along your stomach. You let out content sighs, using your own hands to rub soothing circles on Seonghwa’s defined back and shoulders. His mouth reached the hem of your panties, and you couldn’t help but hitch a breath in expectation. But that fucker had other plans for you.

He peppered even more kisses along the waistband of your underwear, even going as far as to nip it. But, when he got to where you needed him the most, he ignored the wet patch on your crotch, opting to lick your inner thighs. He left another wet trail on your legs up until your knees, bending them slightly to give him better access. Without missing a beat, he switched from one leg to the other, this time going upwards towards your centre. He rubbed your calves and knees tenderly, relieving the tension in them.

Seonghwa broke away from the task he had been focused on for the last minutes to look back at you, and spoke.

“You know,” he stated, “there was once a time where I could have been considered the most beautiful man of the kingdom”. You stared back at him, curious about what point he was trying to make. “It has been almost five years since then, and I’m sure age has changed that fact”.

You frowned at his words, and you were about to refute that claim when he spoke again. “I am certain that has been the case for me. But for you, Y/N, Your Majesty, it is completely the opposite. Every day that you come visit me, I am more certain that time has only made you even more beautiful”.

You were left speechless in awe, but Seonghwa did not seem to interpret it the same way. “I am most sorry if my words have been bold tonight, but the thought has been wandering on my mind for the entirety of this evening. Let me make it up to you, Y/N”.

With nothing else to add, he brought relief to the ache on your core that had been plaguing you from the moment you stepped on Seonghwa’s chambers. Slowly, he bit down on the waistband of your underwear and began to bring it down with his teeth enough to then remove them with his fingers. When he was sure there was not a single millimeter of fabric separating you from him, he dived head first into your folds, tasting you like you were a meal he had been depriving himself of for weeks.

The expertise of his tongue and the long wait had you moaning immediately. “Oh, fuck!” Your hands grabbed the back of his head and pushed him further into you.

Seonghwa never shied away from giving you the best pleasure he could offer. He continually switched from kitty licks on your clit to long swipes through your whole slit. He ate you out like a starved man, sucking on your nub with enough force to make you almost reach the ceiling of pleasure. Nevertheless, he didn’t want you arriving at your climax just yet. No, he had a lot more to give you. He separated himself from your core slightly, just enough to be able to watch you in all your glory. 

The sight of your eyes rolling back into your skull, head hanging weakly over the pillows and your mouth wide open almost made him cum on himself. You looked so fucked out, barely even registering what happened on your surrounds aside from the movement of his tongue and your hand on his hair. 

“Holy shit,” he exclaimed, “you are doing so well for me, Y/N. So, so good”.

You whined at his growl-like tone. “Hwa, I’m close. Don’t stop, please.”

Seonghwa moaned at your whining. It was rare to witness his emperor relinquishing so much of the control you normally had on every aspect of your life, even in bed. He was harder than he remembered ever feeling before, and it drove him crazy. He didn’t want to, he needed to make you cum. So, after looking at you one last time, he went back to his task, now inserting a finger into your hole.

You gasped at the sudden feeling of having his digit inside yourself. His fingers were long and slender, perfect for how you liked it. Little by little, Seonghwa started inserting more and more of it, feeling no resistance from your part. With the same slow pace, he began sliding out, only to go back inside. In no time, he had found a rhythm that matched his licks and slurps on your clit. 

This time, you could feel your climax start to unravel once Seonghwa hit the perfect spot. “Oh my god, I’m coming. Shit, shit, I’m coming!”.

The perfect combination of one of his licks with his fingering movements left your vision white. You felt the air being sucked from your lungs as a fiery heat traveled from all your extremities to your core. Your back arched beautifully, almost as if wanting to ascend to the upper plane of pleasure Seonghwa was sending you to. Your fingers clutched anything they could get a hold of; pillows, sheets, and Seonghwa’s dark locks of hair.

The high was dizzying and intoxicating.

Seonghwa continued to shyly lick your cunt while you came back from your orgasm. You felt sensitive to his touch, but your craving for him still wasn’t satisfied. You propped yourself on one elbow to look at him better, moving your other hand from his hair to his cheek. With soft touches, you removed his face from your core to stop him.

The sight before you was erotic in every sense of the word. The lower bottom of his face was drenched in your cum, his tongue darting out from his mouth to lick around it. His chest rose and fell with heavy breaths, making it seem like it was him who had received one of the most mind-blowing orgasms of his life. His eyes, still full of love and adoration for you, continued to pierce into yours, feeding into the fire that had slowly been growing since the start of the evening.

“My puppy has done such a good job tonight,” you praised him, running your fingers down his jaw to his neck and chest. In a soft gesture, you put your hand under his armpit, urging him to come up from his lying position to hover over you. With his hands on each side of your face, his legs tangled between yours, and your hands woven over the back of his head, you gazed back at him with a mischievous smile. “I believe a reward is in order”.

You closed the distance between your lips, pressing them into another feverish kiss. Seonghwa let out a content sigh into your mouth, melting until both of your figures became indistinguishable. You ran a hand over his broad back, lightly scratching your nails over his skin, leaving a trail of goosebumps on your journey. Then, you dipped it under his waist and over his abdominals, going lower and lower until your hand reached its final destination.

Seonghwa almost collapsed on top of you when he felt you touch his dick. He let out divine sounds when he felt you begin to stroke the base of his member under his underwear, your other hand removing the last piece of clothing for him. For a moment, he closed his eyes and concentrated on the way your hand moved downwards towards the tip, in a movement you had memorized from your countless nights spent with him. To have you touch the most intimate part of his body felt the biggest reward he could receive for his actions, but that wasn’t how he wanted things to go.

You were surprised when you felt his hand grab your wrist to halt your movements. “What is wrong?” you asked, worried about hurting him.

He looked down to where you connected with him and then back at you with his ever-present soft smile. “Nothing is wrong, but I don’t wish to make this night about me”.

You raised your eyebrow at him. “But you deserve it”.

He pecked your nose and gifted you with another smile. “Thank you, Y/N, save it for another time”.

Seonghwa removed your hand from his underwear and intertwined your fingers with his, resting both of your hands besides your head. He left small kisses on your lips, one after another, until you were giggling. The cold metal of his necklaces against your chest gave you small goosebumps, but you still pulled his face against yours, rubbing your noses together.

“I will, Hwa,” you promised him.

Seonghwa let out a chuckle of his own. You looked so cute at that moment. “Thank you, Y/N. Now, if you let me, there’s still one thing on my list for tonight”.

In one swift moment, he sat back on the bed, similar to the position you found him earlier in the night, but this time with you sitting directly on his crotch once more. This time, there was nothing separating your cores. You could feel the entirety of Seonghwa’s length pressed against your slit, warm and slippery with your juices. A small movement of your hips and you would have the head of his cock pressed against your entrance.

Apparently, that same thought crossed Seonghwa. He grabbed your waist to lift you slightly up, leaving you on your knees over him. With one hand he positioned you where he needed you, and with the other he grabbed his cock, stroking himself while aligning it with your entrance. He looked up at you, eyes round and soft.

“May I?” he asked, not needing to say further.

You nodded, and he began your descend towards the climax of tonight’s act.

The first wave came with the first inch. There was always a sense of euphoria when you felt the tip of his length breach your inner walls, slowly dragging upwards to give way to more of it. Your body always responds with a gasp at this initial moment. The second wave is less intense but more prolonged. As he entered deeper and deeper, Seonghwa started losing control of himself. At this stage, he would start touching and grabbing every part of your body he could reach. Hips, thighs, breasts and ass would be covered in small marks the next day from his mindless touch. The last wave was the one that left the both of you with the biggest satisfaction. It was the bliss of being connected in one of the most intimate ways two people could.

“Oh, fuck!” Seonghwa let out, throwing his head back. No matter how many times he had done this, it still felt delicious.

You were also a mess above him. Your back was arched towards him, eyes pressed shut to savour the drag of his dick inside of you, and mouth wide open. Seonghwa felt like cumming from that sight alone. He wanted to devour you whole; crawl beneath your skin and live inside your heart forever.

If only he knew.

Regaining a bit of your senses, you started moving your hips slowly. Up and down, front to back, side to side. You began to find the rhythm that drove the both of you crazy. Wanton moans escaped from your lips as you felt Seonghwa in the deepest parts of your body. You grabbed his shoulders to support yourself better, and his hands found nest on the curve of your hips. In no time, you had picked up the speed, feeling him go in and out harder.

“God, you feel so good,” you moaned. “You are always so good for me. So, so good”.

The praise seemed to get into Seonghwa’s head (and cock). He whined beautifully, his eyes rolling back into his skull. He bit his lower lip to contain the sounds escaping from his throat. You didn’t like that.

You freed his lip with your thumb, once again getting closer to his face. “Don’t you ever try to hold back with me. I want to hear you”.

That set Seonghwa on fire. He planted his feet on the bed, grabbing you firmly by the waist, and started thrusting up into you with force. For a moment, all breath escaped from your lungs, being replaced by the smell of sex and lust. A whiny scream left your lips without meaning to, followed by broken moans and gasps. You hugged your lover by the shoulders in an attempt to keep yourself from falling too hard too fast on the abyss.

Seonghwa’s plump lips now rested against your ear, gifting you with his unrestrained groans and grunts of pleasure. You clenched around his cock deliciously, fitting him like a glove. It felt like a new heaven was opened to him every time he entered you, and your hands roaming across his back and chest felt akin to feather touches of an angel. If he closed his eyes a little longer, then he would be gone for good.

“Y/N, Y/N,” he repeated like a mantra, “I’m so close! God, I can’t wait to come inside of you. I’m going to make you mine”.

Seonghwa was a goner when he felt you clench even harder around him, but he needed you to cum first. It was a rule in his world, a commandment of his, to always satisfy your needs before his, even if it meant never getting back what he had offered you. So, feeling his impending climax approaching, he slid his fingers between your bodies to where your clit rested. His other hand slithered up to your breast, and played with your sensitive peaks. 

That was your breaking point. The stimulation of all those points elevated you to your highest peak of the night. Your body shook with electricity that spread through your spine down to every nerve. You back arched against Seonghwa’s chest, pushing your face away from him. Your toes curled and your legs tensed, your inner thighs wet from the mess of cum and saliva.

You were a sight to behold.

Not long after, Seonghwa came. With sloppy thrusts into your core, he tried to prolong his and your orgasms. Overstimulation was becoming overwhelming, but something carnal and animalistic inside of him pushed him to go further. To claim every inch of your body and soul. Make you his in every way imaginable.

He didn’t stop until he felt like he had pushed the last bits of cum into your pussy. He felt the mess you both had created slip between your bodies, letting out a slight smirk at the thought of your cum and his mixing together.

It was him who had you in his bed tonight. Him who had given you the highest form of pleasure. Him who held you as you recovered from having sex with him.

But still, you weren’t his.

Despite Seonghwa facing inner turmoil at the moment, you felt very content at his side. Still feeling him inside, you were full of him, not just in the physical sense. The weight of your actions with him left your heart soaring higher than the sky, almost at peace. There was just a single detail missing in your equation.

With him standing by your side, there was nothing else you needed.

↠↠↠↞↞↞

The moonlight shone through the open balcony, drawing pale and shapeless silhouettes on the floor beneath your feet. You could hear the branches of the trees sway with the wind in the garden below. It was rare for you to have enough time to sit quietly to observe the mundane beauties of the world that surrounded you.

Except on those nights when you laid with Seonghwa.

After a brief clean-up session with him in his bathroom, you went back to his room. It was a comforting routine for both of you. Just being in each other’s company felt more intimate than any sexual activity you could engage in. You sat there in peace, no clothes needed to enjoy the pleasant company. It was symbolic of how you both bared yourselves naked in more than the literal way.

You sat on the edge of the bed, both feet planted on the floor. The long-forgotten wine returned to your hand, swirling slowly inside the glass, guided by the rhythmic movement of your body. Seonghwa laid on the bed behind you, sipping on his wine. You could feel his intense stare on your back, digging holes at it in silence.

Neither of you felt brave enough to break it.

At last, it was Seonghwa who dared to perturb the tranquility of the room.

“You have been behaving oddly tonight,” he declared, speaking into the rim of his glass.

You turned your neck around just enough to see him gulp down the rest of the beverage. For a couple of moments, the only sound in the room was that of liquid pouring before you answered.

“Am I the only one, though?” you questioned back, but not denying his claim.

“Certainly not,” he replied, seemingly submerged in his thoughts. His long fingers tapped against the stem of the glass before settling it down on the nightstand, “but it is unlike you to drain out your concerns in such ways”.

In five years, Seonghwa learnt to read you like a book. He picked on every cue and sign to assess your moods and act according to them. That way he had managed to completely obliterate the walls you had built around yourself, becoming your trusted confidant in record speed. He had not only looks but a bright mind.

But, still, even Seonghwa couldn’t escape the claws of the cold palace politics.

For that reason, you just offered a close-mouthed smile. “I know you have your people in my council, Seonghwa, so you should know what matter plagues me”.

Seonghwa ignored your cold countenance, choosing to gift you a warm smile. “Yes, I do know, but I'd rather hear it from you”.

You looked into his deep, dark eyes and you knew that if you could trust anyone, it would only be Park Seonghwa.

You exhaled some air and sipped on the glass. “The old foxes at the council have been reminding me that it has been five years since I took the throne, and there are no signs of an upcoming wedding, much less an heir. It makes them restless that there is no one they can trust to succeed me if something happens to me, so they have been pressuring me to pick someone at last”.

You turned around your torso to watch him more carefully. Seonghwa appeared as calm as ever, but the firm grip on the stem of the glass betrayed him

“So,” he asked nonchalantly, “will you do it?”

You left your wine on one of the nightstands and slid up further into the bed to sit beside Seonghwa. He looked at you with extreme curiosity while you settled at his side. While it wasn’t the first time you had touched the subject, it had never affected you like this before.

“Yes,” you said, simply.

For the nth time that night, Seonghwa prayed that you couldn’t hear his heart beating erratically inside his chest. That simple word had planted seeds of jealousy and hope, and he feared that more conversation would water them into a horrific ivy that would swallow his spirit whole. Tonight had not been a good night for his heart. Nevertheless, he made his best effort to appear calm amidst his internal storm.

“Oh?” he asked in an almost teasing tone. “Glad to see you finally settling down. Do you have someone in mind already, or should I suggest candidates?”

The green ivy grew bigger on his chest.

“Yes,” you answered, holding his intense gaze, “I have someone in mind already”.

“Oh?” Seonghwa repeated, but this time less sure of himself, “Is it a consort? Or will you bring someone from outside?”

“Oh god, no. In five years as Emperor, the amount of people I trust has reduced significantly. I could never bring myself to find someone outside this palace”.

Seonghwa bit his lip. “So it is a consort”.

You scooted even closer to him. “Yes, he is a consort”.

Seonghwa’s breath hitched. His head was spinning. One in four. He had one in four chances to be the one you picked.

Against his better judgment, he dared to prod the dragon’s belly. “Well then, who is him?”

You grinned at him, teasing him further. “Aren’t you awfully curious tonight?”

Trying to save face, Seonghwa answered. “Can you judge me? I am part of that pool, so I might as well ask before I hear the news from someone else”.

You didn’t reply. Instead, you scooted even closer to his frame, his arm instinctively wrapping around you and resting you on his shoulder. You inhaled his aroma from that distance and hid your face on his neck.

He smelt like home. And strawberries.

You leaned back to watch him, finding he was already looking back at you. Some of his hair fell on his eyes, covering part of his sculpted visage.

“Your hair is getting longer,” you commented, brushing the dark locks behind his ear.

“Should I cut it?” he asked.

You shook your head. “No, it looks beautiful on you”.

“Thank you,” he whispered.

For two entire breaths, you stood in silence. “Seonghwa”.

“Yes?”

You wetted your lips. “Seonghwa, for almost five years, you have lived here in the palace as my consort. You were the first one I brought in many years ago when I had recently taken the throne, and you are my closest confidant aside from Hongjoong”.

You felt him gulp nervously, but you continued. “In these years, you have proven yourself to be more than just a consort. You are indeed handsome, but also brilliant, charismatic, strong, brave, and kind. In many instances, you have been my biggest ally and supporter, as well as a voice of reason when circumstances appear grim. You have a talent few men can say they possess, and it gives me pride to have you on my side, whether as your Emperor, your friend, or your lover”.

Seonghwa felt his chest swell with pride and joy while hearing your words. It was a one-in-four chance, but he certainly felt like it had been him all this time.

But you weren’t finished. “You are a man of many talents, Park Seonghwa, and in these five years I have witnessed that potential grow beyond what this restrictive palace can offer.” Seonghwa tensed beside you. “This place is nothing more than a beautiful prison for minds like yours, whose limit cannot be determined. A breeding ground for the greed and ambitions of the worst of mankind”.

You went back to stroking Seonghwa’s head. “You are my most beautiful flower, Seonghwa. I have sinned by ripping off your roots and hiding you here. I have taken you away from everything you loved and knew: your home, your family, your dance… I have been a horrible woman by keeping you tied to me for five years of your precious youth”.

Seonghwa had started to shake and you felt drops falling on top of your head. You pushed yourself away from him, only to see him crying. Your heart shattered in the very instance when he pushed himself away from your embrace. He sat on the edge of the bed, hunched over his knees, hand covering his mouth.

“That’s a terrible way to announce it’s not me,” he stated, briefly uncovering his mouth, but never looking back at you.

You got up from your lying position. On your knees, you crawled behind him, looping your arms underneath his armpits. Without a second thought, Seonghwa rested his hands on yours on top of his chest.

Seonghwa had always been an easy crier.

You rested your forehead on his cervical. “I told you I am a horrible person. I am merciless to my enemies, and awful to my friends. More despicable is the fact that I don’t believe those words”. Seonghwa’s head shot up, listening to what you said. “You are my most beautiful flower, and I don’t plan on letting you go”.

You pressed yourself further into Seonghwa’s broad back. “In five long and short years, you have become indispensable to me. It is you who I come to when I am happy. It is you who I come to when I am in need of comfort. It is to you who I confess my fears and sins, and to whom I share the deepest parts of my soul. Your happiness has become my happiness, your grief my grief, and your pride my pride. You are my better half, and my equal in everything but in body”.

“So do forgive me for being a selfish Emperor and even a worse lover, but I will not release you from my grasp, even if it is against my better judgment. I will do anything and give you anything you desire if it means I will get to keep you by my side for the rest of our lives”.

Seonghwa swallowed once again. “Will you give me anything?”

You grabbed his left hand and brought it to your lips. “Yes, anything. Say the word and it shall be yours”.

“You. I want you. I want (L/N) (Y/N)”.

Your heart exploded in a million fireworks inside your chest. “Then, I shall be yours”.

Suddenly, Seonghwa turned back at you, tackling you into a hug. He hid his face in the crook of your neck, slightly shaking with short sobs. He was crying, but this time they were happy tears. Softly, you removed him from yourself with a smile.

“Lord Park Seonghwa,” you said while looking deep into his eyes, “will you do me the honor of becoming Imperial King and marry me?”.

“Yes, yes, yes!” he shouted. “A hundred times yes!”.

You laughed, and he started peppering kisses all over your face. You both went from hugging to kissing to laughing hysterically every couple of seconds. No joy in life could compare to the state of bliss you were in, knowing you belonged wholeheartedly to each other.

You had said it before. Tonight, you had intended to make Seonghwa yours in more than one way.

“But wait,” Seonghwa stopped the both of you abruptly, “isn’t this done through a formal ceremony?”

“I mean, yes,” you replied, “but I wanted to make sure it is what you wanted before officially proposing to you in front of everyone. I would have felt awful to put you on the spot like that if you didn’t want to actually marry me”.

“Are you kidding me? I’m so in love with you that I would have said yes no matter when and where you had asked me”.

“Good to know my fiancé is in love with me as much as I am in love with him”, you smirked and rubbed your noses together. “Either way, I will have to inform Lord Hongjoong of the changes in our situation. I bet he will be very surprised”.

(Spoiler alert, he was not).

You both laid on your backs, staring at the ceiling of Seonghwa’s room. Hands intertwined like vines. The night continued to be silent, uncaring of the two lovers who had decided to give themselves to each other without the knowledge of the rest of the world. The Earth didn’t stop spinning nor did the Moon stop her beaming, but now your whole galaxy shone with the glint of Park Seonghwa’s eyes.

“I never thought I would say this,” Seonghwa broke the last silence of the night, “but I thank those old geezers at the council for pushing you into my arms. From the moment that I met you, my heart, body, and soul have belonged to you and only you. From the moment I rise in the morning to the closing of my eyes at night, my every thought is dedicated to you. I will do everything in my power to be dutiful as your husband, and you shall never regret having me, my love”.

“There’s nothing in the world that will make me regret having you as my husband,” you kissed both of his hands. “As far as the members of the council, I bet they will be happy knowing that I’m marrying at last, especially if it’s with someone as brilliant as you”.

“We will be the most powerful sovereigns this nation has seen,” Seonghwa sealed his promise with a sweet kiss on your lips. “I’ll give you all of me if you need it”.

“Then it shall be that way,” you kissed him back.

With the threat of an early morning, you tucked yourselves into bed. Seonghwa attached himself to your back, tangling his arms and legs until you couldn’t tell where began who. He released his soft breaths into your ear, slowly lulling you to your rest. Just as you were about to fall asleep, he muttered to you.

“I bet the council will really be happy with our marriage,” you could hear the grin in his voice, “because, with me, you won’t be having any problem conceiving that heir… Your Majesty”.

It was safe to say, you didn’t wake up early that day.