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fall into temptation | three

Post Outbreak Joel Miller x Preacher’s Daughter! Reader

series masterlist l previous chapter

summary: Of all the women to catch Joel Miller’s attention—it just had to be one of the goddamned preacher’s daughters.

warnings/tags: 18+ ONLY, MINORS DNI. JACKSON ERA. SLIGHT PHYSICAL DESCRIPTION OF READER, mentions of her hair which she can put up into braids as well as her style of clothing. despite the nickname Joel gives her, it does not speak to her body type or size. AGE GAP (reader is in her 20’s and Joel is 56). several mentions of religion and religious symbols, reader has a father and two sisters, all who come with names, reader gets put into a a very uncomfortable situation, insecurity, anxiety, Seth is an asshole, protective Joel, he threatens to break someone’s jaw which is a warning in and of itself. SMUT. loss of virginity, reader is inexperienced but not totally clueless, oral (both m and f receiving), risky unprotected p in v sex (please wrap it up), lots of praise and pet names (baby, babygirl, honey, you know, the works), Joel gets a teensy bit rough, creampie, hint of aftercare, ends with a cliffhanger, but also not really if you think about it?

MOODBOARD FOR AESTHETIC PURPOSES ONLY, NO MENTION OF RACE OR BODY TYPE.

word count: 10k

a/n: it was not my intention to post this on jesus day, but here we are. this took forever and a day considering the second part was posted back in september, but i am so so proud of myself for finally completing a wip i could cry. i did a bulk of the editing while i’ve been sick and in all honesty i probably should have asked someone to beta for me because i think i coughed out like 90% of my brain cells this week, but i think it turned out okay. ish.

Somehow, even over the volume of the live music, you could still hear their hushed, astonished whispers.

“Are you seeing what I’m seeing?”

“Is that Joel Miller with Pastor John’s daughter?”

“What’s she doing holding his hand?”

“He’s got to be at least twice her fucking age—”

Throat bobbing anxiously, you glanced up at Joel.

His shoulders were squared back, his head held high.

Solid. Steady.

Joel couldn’t seem to care less about the bewildered stares, the judgment that was being flung his way. Not once did he seem to waver. But you?

Oh, you were already starting to crumble underneath it all, on the verge of falling apart right before everyone’s prying eyes. Shame sat heavily inside of your chest, the weight of the feeling suffocating you, making it harder and harder to breathe as it prevented air from reaching your lungs.

It had nothing to do with Joel. Of course it didn’t. It had all to do with you and with who you were. Their beloved preacher’s sweet, innocent young daughter.

His youngest daughter.

Suddenly, the whispers were no longer whispers.

“Oh God, she’s not going home with him, is she?”

“That’s not right! Someone should say something!”

“Pastor John would never allow something like this.”

“Poor thing’s naive—she doesn’t know any better.”

Hot, stubborn tears of frustration glazed over your eyes and threatened to spill. It was as if you were a child who didn’t know any better, a gullible, clueless little girl with nothing in her brain who needed to be rescued—saved from the bad, bad man before he did bad, bad things to her.

Had it been anyone else, no one would have batted an eye. No one would have noticed, let alone cared. But it was you that Joel Miller was leaving the bar with in the middle of the night and it was you whose hand he had clasped in his own. That is what made it wrong. That is why it was a problem.

Everyone’s concerns had nothing to do with him at all, they had everything to do with you. You, you, you. You were the sole reason why it was a problem, the reason why he was being perceived as the Devil himself, horns out as he dragged the poor little unsuspecting angel down to the fires of Hell.

“Joel?” Overwhelmed, you instinctively reached for his arm with your free hand. Cold and trembling, your little fingers curled tightly around his bicep, digging into the firm, bulging muscle through the thick corduroy fabric of his sleeve. You whispered his name again. “Joel—”

“S’alright, babygirl,” he reassured you quietly over his shoulder. He gave your hand a comforting squeeze. “S’alright. Just keep your eyes on me, sweetheart. I’ve got you. You just keep on lookin’ right at me, okay?”

Nodding, you inhaled deeply and focused on him. Only him. The broadness of his back and his shoulders. Tufts of hair that curled over the collar of his shirt. Only him. He’s what mattered. He’s all that mattered.

“Almost there,” Joel murmured, squeezing your hand again as the door came into view. “Breathe, baby. We’re almost there. I’ve got you. You’re alright. Ain’t gonna let anythin’ bad happen to you. Promise I’ve got you.”

It wasn’t until his fingers wrapped around the old, brass handle that you finally exhaled the breath you had been holding out in utter relief, though it was very, very short lived. Just as Joel pulled the door open, you felt a hand wrap around your arm. Dry, slender fingers dug into the soft flesh above your elbow as an attempt, and a feeble one at that, was made to tear you out of Joel’s grasp.

The music stopped and the bar fell silent. Everything and everyone came to a sudden standstill, freezing mid dance, mid drink, mid bite, mid gossip.

Shocked, you glanced over your shoulder. “Seth?” you squeaked his name. “What—what are you doing?”

Seth didn’t acknowledge you. His focus was on Joel.

“What the hell do you think you’re doing, Miller?”

Joel’s anger couldn’t be seen, but it could be felt. So palpable you could have wrapped your fingers around it. It radiated off of him and loomed over the entire bar like an incoming storm cloud. Threatening. Dangerous.

“Where are you taking her?” Seth demanded, his other hand curling around your wrist as he tried, but failed, to snatch you from Joel’s side once more. “Let the girl go! You let her go right now, you hear?”

Caught in between the two men, you nervously turned to look at Joel. Nostrils flared, jaw clenched, seething eyes that did the talking for him. His message was loud and oh so abundantly clear.

If Seth didn't take his hands off you, he wasn’t going to have any hands.

Not after Joel Miller was through with him.

Blazing heat flooded your face. As if it couldn’t possibly get any worse, everyone had now gathered around you to watch the tense encounter, eyes wide, brows raised and jaws practically on the weathered, hardwood floor.

Tommy Miller stood among the crowd, subtly shaking his head, his lips pressed together in a tight, thin line of disapproval as he glowered at his older brother. Would he be looking at Joel like that had it been Esther in your place? If she was the one he was taking home? Would any of this be happening if it was her instead of you?

“Seth.” Uttering his name, you shifted your attention back to him. You sounded calm and collected, despite feeling anything but. Joel’s hand in yours was the only thing keeping you steady and grounded. His touch was the only reason you hadn’t yet spiraled into a state of panic. Clearing your throat lightly, you spoke again and tried your hardest not to waver. “Please let go of me.”

Still fixed on Joel, he spat, “I’ll be damned if I let him take you anywhere.”

“He’s not taking me anywhere, Seth.” Without thinking, the words came tumbling out of your mouth—loud and clear for everyone in that room to hear. “He isn’t forcing me to go with him. I’m making the choice to leave with him. Out of my own volition. Please let go of me.”

Finally, Seth looked at you. His old, worn features were twisted in disbelief. “What?”

You swallowed dryly. Part of you wanted you to shrink away, curl into yourself. Instead, you straightened your posture, forced yourself to stand a little bit taller. Willed yourself to have a backbone for once in your life.

“You heard me,” you said, lifting your chin in defiance. Several onlookers gasped in surprise at your rebellion. Where had this insolence come from? “I’m choosing to leave with Joel. Now, please let go of my arm.”

Behind you, Joel stood silent and still.

Watching. Observing. Waiting.

He wanted nothing more than to intervene. Rip you out of Seth’s hands and shatter each and every last bone in all ten of his fingers for putting them on you. Had Joel not realized that this was probably the first time in your whole, entire life you’d mustered up the courage to use your voice, he would have easily given into the urge. He wanted to protect you. He needed so badly to protect you. Yet, he knew you weren’t helpless or incapable of standing on your own two feet. He knew you deserved the chance to stand up and speak for yourself after a lifetime of being silenced, a lifetime of being forced to stay in your place, seen but never heard.

“Seth, let go of my arm,” you repeated. It was no longer a polite request. It was a demand.

He scoffed. “Do you honestly think I’m going to let you leave with somebody like him? You think I’m just going to stand back and let him take advantage of you?”

Oh, you hadn’t liked that insinuation, not one bit.

It caused something inside of you to finally give way.

Snap.

The blood in your veins boiled, ran hot enough to make you feel like you were about to burn from the inside out. “Joel isn’t taking advantage of me! It isn’t like that,” you seethed, furiously. The quiet, well mannered, obedient good girl everyone in Jackson knew was gone. And she could stay gone. In your periphery, you could see Leah elbowing her way through the sea of people to the front of the crowd with an incredulous look plastered on her face. She stood there beside Tommy, who appeared to be just as incredibly bewildered by your outburst. “Don’t treat me like I’m some child who doesn’t know any better! I’m an adult and I’m old enough to make my own choices, okay?”

For a moment, you had forgotten it was Seth standing there in front of you.

“I’m capable of making my own decisions! I don’t need you to dictate my life. I don’t need you to tell me what is and isn’t good for me—controlling what I should and shouldn’t believe in.” Your voice trembled as emotions you’d been suppressing for years bubbled their way up to the surface. Amidst the chaos, you could feel Joel squeeze your hand again, as if silently encouraging you not to lose your nerve. He was your anchor, the only person who could keep your world from capsizing. You knew he wouldn’t let you drown. Not even God, who you had always been forced to believe was your pillar of strength, had ever made you feel this protected. Safe. “I don’t need you to tell me how to live and much less when it’s the end of the world.”

It wasn’t Seth you were addressing.

It was your father.

Your father, who controlled every last thing, from what you would eat to the way that you dressed and how you wore your hair.

Your father, who refused to let you have a mind of your own, who simply could not bear the mere thought of you thinking for yourself.

Your father, whose love felt like shackles, heavy, rusted metal restraints that had been digging into the flesh of your wrists for far, far too long.

“You need to let me go now,” you said, swallowing back the lump in your throat. Once more, you caught Leah from the corner of your eye, your heart lurching in your chest when you noticed her desperately trying to wipe at her eyes with the back of her hand. She was the only person in the room who understood how you felt. Her rebelliousness only ever masked the pain of knowing her father’s love came with terms and conditions—and the fear of knowing what would happen if those terms and conditions weren’t met. For several weeks, you’d gotten a taste of what she went through everyday, how her fear of putting her foot down led her to run around in secret and live a double life. “Just let me go.”

Seth firmly shook his head. “No! I’m not letting you go anywhere with him. I don’t know what the hell he did to you, but he’s clearly got you all fucking brainwashed.”

That was fucking enough. Joel stepped in, lowering his voice as he said, “Y’know, I’ve just ‘bout lost count of how many fuckin’ times she’s asked you to let her go now and it’s really startin’ to piss me off.” Raising an eyebrow, he laid his offer out on the table. “Here’s the deal. You let go of her right now and I won’t shatter your fuckin’ jaw into pieces. That seem fair enough to you?”

“No.” Seth gripped your arm even harder, prompting you to let out a little yelp as his nails dug painfully into your skin. Though it’d been accidental and he hadn’t meant to hurt you, it didn’t matter. He’d just set off the ticking time bomb that was Joel Miller.

Furious, Joel snatched a fistful of his shirt with his free hand—the other still held yours. Gentle, despite being mere moments away from beating someone to within an inch of their life.

“Joel! Stop!” Tommy’s voice broke through the tension as he approached. His footsteps were slow—careful and cautious, as if he was afraid to make any kind of sudden movement. “Joel. Hey. C’mon now, let’s not do this, alright? Ain’t gotta handle things this way. We can talk it through. No need for anyone to wind up bleedin’ in the fuckin’ infirmary tonight, so just take a breath and let him go.”

Blatantly ignoring Tommy’s attempt to keep the peace, Joel tugged Seth forward, yanking him closer. “Listen to me and listen to me good ‘cause I ain’t gonna fuckin’ say it again. You’d best take your fuckin’ hands off her right now unless you wanna spend the rest of the night sweepin’ up your teeth off the floor of your own fuckin’ bar,” he threatened, his tone enough to send a chill up anyone’s spine, even your own.

“You wouldn’t dare, Miller.” Somehow, Seth managed to keep a straight face, but you could see it so clearly in his eyes and in the tremble of his lower lip—oh, he was terrified of Joel and rightly so. “Not in front of all these people. Not in front of your brother. That wouldn’t be a smart move considering you’re already on thin fucking ice for what you did to that boy’s face, now would it?”

Joel tugged him closer. “Test me,” he hissed through gritted teeth. “Go on. Fuckin’ test me.”

His challenge was immediately met with a pathetic look of defeat. Seth dropped your arm and he was released.

“S’what I fuckin’ thought.” Without another word to the man, Joel whirled around and roughly pulled the door open, leading the way outside. As you both descended the building’s old, creaking wooden steps, you began to shiver and he suddenly remembered he’d left his jacket behind inside the bar. He wrapped an arm around your shoulders. “C’mere, my little dove,” he murmured as he tucked you against his side for warmth. “I’ve got you.”

The first thing he did was light the fireplace.

“Should start warmin’ you up, sweet girl,” he’d said to you over his shoulder. He tossed a log into the blaze as you sat perched on his couch rubbing your bare arms with your hands. “M’gonna go upstairs and find you a blanket, alright? You stay put.”

“Okay,” you’d mumbled, knowing there was no point in telling him not to fuss over you.

Even with the soft, fleece throw blanket he had draped around your shoulders and the warmth of the flames in front of you, you continued trembling. Subtle, but he’d noticed it, felt it when he had sat down beside you and pulled you close against his side. “Oh baby, you’re still shakin’?” That was when he realized you weren’t cold. Frowning, Joel rose to his feet and disappeared down the hallway. He came back to the living room a minute later with a glass of water in his hand. With a small, labored grunt, he dropped to one knee in front of you and held it out. “Here.”

“No, thank you.” You shook your head. “I’m not thirsty.”

“Maybe not, but I’m kinda worried you could be in a bit of shock, right now,” he stated, the creases in between his brows deepening as he observed you for any other physical signs of distress. Carefully, Joel lifted the glass to your lips, gently coaxing you to take a drink. “C’mon, darlin’. Think you can be a real good girl for me and at least take a couple sips? Hm?”

Sighing softly, you nodded and did as he asked of you, taking a small sip of water. It soothed your dry mouth and throat and you took another one. Maybe you were thirsty after all.

“Little more, now. Little more. That’s it. That’s my good girl.” Once he was satisfied with how much you’d had to drink, Joel set the half empty glass down on the oak coffee table behind him. He turned back to you, placing his large hands on either side of your thighs below the hem of your dress. He started tracing soft, soothing circles into your skin with his thumbs. “M’real proud of you for standin’ up for yourself back there, sweetheart. Took a whole lot of fuckin’ courage to do that, y’know.”

You glanced down at your hands in your lap. “Mhm.”

“Baby. Hey. Look at me.” One of his hands abandoned your leg and he reached up, delicately taking your chin between his thumb and index finger. He tilted your face upwards, his worried gaze meeting your own. “Talk to me. M’right here.”

“That—that was a lot,” you admitted meekly, shoulders sagging as the adrenaline started wearing off and your body slowly came down from the peak hormone rush. “It was a lot.”

Sighing, Joel’s hand fell away from your face. “Yeah, I know it was a lot, babygirl. I know. I’m sorry. I shouldn’t have—”

“No.” You were quick to cut him off. “Don’t be sorry.”

His chest heaved with another sigh, this one deeper, heavier, bearing the weight of his guilt. “Well I am,” he said. He planted his hands on either side of you on the couch and lightly shook his head. “Didn’t even fuckin’ think twice when I pulled you outta that fuckin’ supply closet and took your hand in front of all those people. I was so fuckin’ hellbent on showin’ everybody you were mine that I didn’t even stop and think ‘bout what all it would mean for you. It was selfish of me. Real fuckin’ selfish. And I’m sorry, little dove.”

“Do you regret it?” you asked, quietly.

Joel chuckled in spite of himself. “M’pretty sure I’m the one who should be askin’ you that question, darlin’,” he remarked. “Tell me. Do you regret it? Do you regret me pullin’ you outta that closet?” He momentarily paused. There was a stutter in his heartbeat when you dropped your gaze away from his, silence your only reply. “Do you regret me takin’ your hand in front of everyone?”

Of course not.

You wanted to be his and you wanted everyone to know it. There was no regret, none.

Still.

The consequences that you would undoubtedly have to face in the morning were overwhelming. Daunting.

Surely, by then, your father would know about you and Joel. When he came downstairs right after sunrise and he discovered you weren’t in the kitchen helping Lydia prepare breakfast, he would question where you were and make some kind of remark about how you should not be sleeping in this late. He would tell her just how irresponsible it was for you to ignore your duties and obligations to him and the family. Sloth was one of the seven deadly sins, after all. He would make her trek upstairs and wake you, and when she did, your sister would find your bed empty.

Meanwhile, there would be a knock at the front door.

No stranger to having members of the congregation show up on his doorstep when they were in need, be it of prayer or comfort, your father would answer it only to find someone, not in need of solace, but who felt that it was their responsibility and moral obligation to inform him that they had seen his youngest daughter leaving The Tipsy Bison with Joel Miller in the middle of the night, hand in hand.

He wouldn’t believe them.

“Now, that is simply not true,” he would say, offended that anybody would have the nerve to show up at his door and accuse you of something so vile. “That’s not possible. I know my daughter and she would never do such a thing. It must have been someone else that you saw with him. Someone who looked like her, perhaps.”

Then, Lydia would descend the staircase and tell him you weren’t in your bedroom. “She must have gone up to the main street as soon as she woke up,” she would suggest with a shrug, not yet privy to the events that had taken place the night before at the party you and Leah had snuck off to. She never had to worry about you, the good one. “I did notice we were running pretty low on eggs. Sugar, too. She probably wanted to be the first in line at the pantry to—Papa? What’s the matter?”

The color would drain from your father’s face when the realization slowly sank in. No, you weren’t out on the main street picking up eggs for breakfast and sugar for his tea. You were lying up in Joel Miller’s bed—defiled, impure, and with the curse of Eve on your flesh. Even after dedicating his entire life to making sure you did not stray from the path of righteousness, he had failed. You had fallen into temptation.

There was a chance he would have mercy on you. All you had to do was beg and plead for his forgiveness—and more importantly, for the forgiveness of God. “Vow to atone for your sins,” your father would say, his gaze fixed on the Holy Bible in his lap. He probably wouldn’t be able to look at you, not after what you had done. “Repent. And swear to me, child, that you will never so much as glance in that man’s direction ever again.”

No. That’s not what you wanted.

You wanted Joel and the freedom to be with him.

But that freedom came with a high, high price.

You were willing to pay it, but you’d be lying if you said you were prepared to navigate the consequences. Then again, was there really any way for someone to prepare themselves to be shunned by their own father?

“I can take you home,” Joel offered quietly, the sound of his voice taking you out of the future and bringing you back into the present.

“What?”

“I can take you home,” he repeated himself. “I can take you home right now if that’s what you want, sweet girl. Won’t give you any kinda grief ‘bout it.”

Confused, all you could do was stare at him.

“Listen to me, baby. You mean a lot to me. More than I can even begin to explain,” Joel reassured you before any kind of doubt could find its way into your mind. “I want you to stay with me. There’s nothin’ on what’s left of this fuckin’ earth I want more than for you to stay here with me. But what you want matters to me a hell of a lot more than what I want.” He reached up, lightly stroking your cheek with his thumb. “If you decide you wanna go home and go back to your family—back to your old man—then that’s where I’ll take you. Okay?”

Your father would give you an ultimatum. But Joel? He was giving you a choice. And he’d respect that choice.

“I wanna free you from your cage, my little dove. But I think we both know you’ve gotta make the choice to fly outta there on your own.” He lightly swept his thumb over your quivering bottom lip, his eyes meeting yours as he whispered, “Door’s wide open for you. What you do next is all up to you.”

“I’m afraid, Joel,” you confessed. A tear slipped from the corner of your eye and rolled its way down the side of your face. He was quick to wipe it away, along with the others that followed. “I do want out of my cage. I really, really do. But I’m terrified. All I have ever known is my family and my faith. I have never been apart from my father and my sisters.”

His expression softened. “I know you’re scared. Can’t promise you things will be easy, but there is one thing I can promise you.”

“What’s that?” you questioned, then waited with baited breath.

He gingerly cupped your cheek in his large palm. “I’ve got you,” he swore to you, just like he had done so back at the bar. “If you decide to stay, I promise I’ll take real, real good care of you, alright? For the rest of my life, I’ll take care of you. You won’t ever have to worry ‘bout a thing with me by your side. Swear it on my life.”

Warmth blossomed in your heartspace and finally, you stopped trembling. Lifting a hand, you curled your fingers around his wrist as your gaze fell to his mouth. “Joel?”

“What is it, darlin’ girl?”

“Kiss me. Please.”

With a gentle nod, Joel’s other hand found your hip, the warmth of it seeping through the cotton fabric of your dress. Leaning in, he brushed his lips against yours. It was a chaste thing, soft and innocent until you grabbed the collar of his shirt and pulled him closer to you. “Babygirl,” he mumbled against your lips. He deepened the kiss, sweeping his tongue through your parted lips and into your mouth. He tasted like bold bourbon and citrus beer. There was a faint hint of tobacco too—you recalled him admitting to you one night in the church house that while he wasn’t all that much of a smoker, at least not like he used to be when living in the zones, he would occasionally partake in the habit if he happened to come across a pack of cigarettes while out on patrol, pairing the nicotine with a drink. He tasted delicious. He tasted delicious because he tasted like yours.

You sank back into the worn, supple brown leather of his couch, tugging him forward so he sank in with you. Over you. Releasing your near death grip on his collar, you managed to wedge your hands in between your bodies and began to claw furiously at the buttons of his shirt, your fingers shaking out of pure desperation to feel him. It wasn’t until you were halfway down that he finally noticed what you were doing and leaned back, catching both of your wrists.

“Baby, wait,” he panted, shaking his head. “Don’t think now’s a good time for that—”

“Joel, please,” you pleaded, the intense ache between your thighs almost too much for you to bear. “Please. I want it. I want you.”

“S’been a rough night for you.” Joel’s voice was hoarse—strained, like he was aching just as much, if not more. “You’re real emotional right now. Vulnerable. Last thing I want is to take advantage of you at a time like this.”

You frowned. Had Seth’s words gotten into his head?

“You’re not taking advantage of me.”

“Darlin’ I just don’t think we should—”

“Joel, please,” you begged him again. “I was so good for you, was I not? Wasn’t I patient, just like you asked me to be?”

His lips thinned into a tight line. He wouldn’t be able to resist much longer. You, his beautiful little temptress of Eden.

“I waited for so long,” you reminded him. “I’ve been so, so good for you. Please, just make me yours already. I don’t want to think about anything else right now. I just want to be with you. Please, Joel. I need you so badly it hurts.”

Christ.

No man could stand it. No man could possibly have the strength to deny you.

With a look of utter defeat, he folded. Before he could say another word or make another move, your greedy mouth was on his, and you kissed him with fervor, with urgency, as you finished the task of unbuttoning his shirt. Pushing it off of his shoulders, the corduroy fabric fell into a crumpled heap behind him, nearly knocking the glass of water off the coffee table. You broke away from him and shamelessly marveled at his mouth watering form—you admired the way miles of smooth, tanned skin stretched over his wide shoulders, broad chest and soft, soft belly. Arousal pooled between your legs and you reached out and raked your fingers down his chest, and over his stomach, going lower and lower, following the trail of coarse, dark hair that led you to his brown leather belt. You clumsily started fumbling with the brass buckle until he caught your hands once more.

“Slow down, my little dove,” he murmured. “No need to rush this. We’ve got all night.” He stood up and held his hand out to you. Time blurred a bit—maybe it was your nervousness mingled with the eager anticipation of what was to come, but there seemed to be a small gap in your memory, a blank space that spanned from the moment you rose off the couch until the moment you found yourself standing in his bedroom where you were about to answer to the call of the flesh.

Dropping your hand, Joel switched on the lamp on his bedside table and kicked off his boots before taking you into his arms. “C’mere, honey.” He nuzzled your cheek with the tip of his nose as he spoke, the scruff of his beard tickling your cheek. “Couple’a rules, sweet girl. I do somethin’ that you don’t like, you tell me. You want me to stop, you tell me to sto—”

Without waiting for him to finish his sentence, you slowly lowered yourself down onto the floor and knelt at his feet with purpose, as if kneeling before an altar, a sacred, holy space. Though you felt anxious, you were eager to worship. “I haven’t forgotten about what I said earlier tonight,” you cooed, noticing the mild look of surprise on his face. “I said I’d make it up to you and I intend on keeping my word.”

All the blood in his body rushed south to his cock and it strained painfully against the crotch of his jeans. “Baby, I—” Again, he was cut off, only this time by the sound of his own groan when your hand brushed up the front of his thigh and over his growing bulge. He glanced down, his heart thrumming painfully hard against his sternum as he watched you reach for his belt buckle.

With all your might, you willed your hands so as not to tremble. It was self-explanatory, what you were about to do, but your total lack of experience sowed seeds of doubt into your mind—you wanted to make him feel good, just like he had made you feel good outside of the church house during services. Just how you knew he would make you feel tonight.

Hand still over his buckle, you pressed the tenderest of kisses to his bulge through his jeans. Then, turning your head, you rested your cheek on one of his thick, blue denim clad thighs and peered up at him through your eyelashes with a small, nervous smile as you confessed what he already knew. “I’ve never done this before.”

Oh, how sweet and endearing you were. Joel reached down and smoothed your hair back and away from your face, tucking it behind your ear. “S’alright, honey,” he crooned, grazing the silkiness of your cheek with his index finger. “I’ll walk you through it. Teach you how to be a real good girl and suck my cock just the way I like it. That what you want, my little dove?”

His filth made your cunt clench hard around nothing.

Slowly lifting your head off of his thigh, you pulled your bottom lip between your teeth and managed a clear, consenting nod as your hands fumbled with his buckle, the clinking sound of metal ringing loudly in your ears. You undid the button on his jeans and pulled down his zipper, your throat drying when you saw the outline of him, his size intimidating even behind the cotton fabric of his faded, black boxer briefs.

With a harsh swallow, you glanced up at him, silently asking him for his permission to continue.

Such a polite little thing, Joel thought to himself. “Go on, sweetheart,” he encouraged.

You tugged his jeans down to the middle of his thighs and hooked your index fingers underneath the elastic waistband of his boxer briefs, pulling them down and freeing his cock. There was a deep, swooping sensation in your belly as you watched it slap up against the lower part of his abdomen. After many nights of sitting in his lap, feeling him through his clothes, grinding your cunt down onto him, you thought you’d at the very least had an idea of what you would be in for, but oh, how wrong you had been. He was so much bigger than you could have imagined, and your stomach swooped again when you realized he was not going to fit. Anywhere.

Licking away the dryness of your lips, you take him in one of your hands, feeling the heaviness of his length in your palm. He was so long and so, so thick.

“Oh fuck,” Joel hissed the curse through gritted teeth, his hips jerking forward involuntarily as your touch sent a charged jolt of electricity shooting up the length of his spine. He looked down at you, his pupils blown wide with arousal. Christ. You hadn’t even done anything to him yet, but seeing you sitting so prettily at his feet was almost enough to make him come on the spot.

Delicately wrapping your hand around him, you found yourself almost in awe at the way your fingertips barely, just barely, touched. The sheer size of his cock dwarfed your hand, and made it seem so much smaller than it really was.

“You’re so big,” you murmured, echoing your thoughts. You licked at your lips again, suddenly feeling ravenous, an appetite that had seemingly come out of nowhere making you salivate. The tip of him was flushed red, slit already glistening—how badly you wanted, needed a taste. Never, ever, did you think you would be down on your knees for anything but prayer, but there you were, starved and desperate to bite into the forbidden fruit.

“What’re you waitin’ for, darlin’ girl?” he croaked.

“Permission,” you replied, sweetly.

“Go right ahead, baby. S’all yours—I’m all yours.”

Yours.

Yours, yours, yours.

Finding your first push of courage, you leaned forward and so carefully swept your tongue along the tip of his length, collecting the slight saltiness leaking from the slit and getting your first delectable taste. With your hand still wrapped firmly around his base, you looked up, your eyes locked on Joel’s face as you flicked your tongue up against the rigid underside of his cock.

“Fuckin’ Christ,” Joel groaned, all of the muscles in his stomach already pulling taut when he felt you dragging your tongue in a slow, purposeful lick along the length of him. “Babygirl.”

“Is that good?” you asked him, sounding hopeful. “Am I doing good?”

“Doin’ so, so fuckin’ good for me, sweetheart. Look so fuckin’ pretty down on your knees for me.”

Pleased, you wrapped your mouth around the head of his length, pressing forward and taking him in as far as you possibly could—which, in all fairness, wasn’t very far. At least not as far as you would have liked. Another groan tore itself from the depths of his chest as your plush, plump lips sealed around him, your tongue warm and wet on the underside of his cock. Moving both of your hands to rest on the sides of his thighs, you began to move your head back and forth, following what felt most natural to you. The nerves you initially felt slowly but surely dissipated, vanishing one by one with every curse, every tremble, every sharp breath.

Joel resisted the urge to buck his hips forward, fought the desire to feel himself at the back of your throat. He needed to be gentle, so careful with such an innocent, pliant thing who had much, much to learn. “Sweet little fuckin’ mouth feels so good around my cock, baby, just like I fuckin’ knew it would. Y’think it can take more of me, little dove? Hm?”

You hummed, the vibration intensifying his pleasure.

“Yeah? Y’trust me?”

Your reply came in the form of a muffled, “Mhm.”

Joel reached down and cradled the back of your head in the palm of his hand. He carefully guided you further onto his throbbing length, slowly feeding you one inch at a time. Your fingers dug into the denim of his jeans. He was much more than a mouthful for you, and you could only take about half of him before he hit the back of your throat, prompting you to gag around him. Drool dribbled out from the corners of your mouth and down the sides your chin, dripping onto your lap.

“Oh fuck, sweetheart. Yeah, that’s it. Little more now, honey,” Joel encouraged. He bucked his hips forward, his head slipping further down your throat. Just when you felt like you were about to choke, he pulled out and you tried your hardest not to cough and sputter as you took in a much needed, precious breath of air. He gave you a few seconds or so to finish catching your breath as he shoved his jeans and boxer briefs further down his legs. He stepped out of the articles of clothing and kicked them somewhere off to the aside, standing before you completely bare. “Open up.”

Your absolute devotion to him bred sweet submission, so as worried as you were that you wouldn’t be able to handle it, you nodded obediently and very willingly did as you were told.

He guided himself right back into your waiting mouth, pressing deeply. You tried to relax your jaw, reminding yourself to breathe in and out through your nose. Tears streamed down the sides of your face as you did your best to forestall another gag. “Little bit more,” he said, thrusting his hips in a slow, steady controlled rhythm. He advanced even further into your mouth—trusting he wouldn’t suffocate you, nor push you too far past your limits, you opened up wider. He moaned, “Yeah, baby. That’s my good girl. That’s my good fuckin’ girl.”

With a bit of newfound confidence, you hollowed your cheeks and sucked him. You swiped your tongue along the thick, prominent vein on the underside of his cock, earning yourself more of his sweet, sweet praise.

“Fuck, yeah, suck me off, sweetheart. This pretty little mouth was fuckin’ made for sin,” he breathed, guiding your head back and forth with a firm, but gentle hand.

You moaned, the noise muffled around his length. Slick soaked through your panties and coated the insides of your thighs. With another moan, you tightly squeezed your legs together, inwardly reminding yourself that patience was a virtue.

Noticing the way you had shifted, Joel moved his hand from the back of your head, lightly curling his fingers around your jaw. He pulled you off of his cock, a loud, lewd popping sound bouncing off the sage green walls of his bedroom. “C’mere, baby.” He grabbed your arms, effortlessly hoisting you up to your feet.

“What’s wrong?” you questioned him worriedly. “Did I do something wrong?”

Chuckling softly, he brushed a finger along the strap of your dress. You could do no wrong, his perfect, perfect girl. “Of course not, sweet girl. You did so fuckin’ good for me,” Joel reassured you, lightly tracing along your collarbone with his finger and making your flesh erupt in goosebumps. He leaned forward and feathered a kiss onto your lips, murmuring against them, “Are you wet, little dove?”

Before you could even process the query and generate some kind of coherent response, he dove his opposite hand between your thighs, cupping your warm heat in his palm. At this, your weak knees buckled, prompting you to reach out and grab onto his arms to hold steady and keep yourself from falling into a helpless heap on the floor.

“Oh, honey. You’re soaked. That what sucking my cock does to you?” he cooed. He peppered another kiss, this one onto the corner of your mouth. His voice lowered another octave. “Poor little thing. She needs me, don’t she? Needs me to take care of her?”

You whimpered. “Yes.”

“Manners, babygirl,” he reminded you, skimming your cheek with his nose. “Yes, what?”

“Yes, please.”

Humming in approval, Joel withdrew his hand from in between your legs and guided you backwards towards his bed. “Sit,” he commanded gently, bidding you to let go of him. “Arms up.”

Reaching for the hem of your dress, he took great care in pulling it over your head, then discarded the vibrant yellow material over his shoulder, leaving you in nothing but your cowboy boots and thin, cotton white panties. Without a word, he knelt before you and pulled off one boot, and then the other, setting them both aside. He hooked two fingers underneath the elastic waistband of your underwear, coaxing you to lift your bottom off of the bed, just long enough for him to pull them down and slide them down your legs. He was so tender in the manner in which he undressed you.

“Fuckin’ beautiful, beautiful girl,” Joel praised. His dark gaze dragged down the length of your body as you sat before him wearing nothing but the delicate, gold chain around your neck. The holy cross nestled between your supple breasts gleamed in the light of the lamp on the nightstand. He would leave it on until your decision was made, set in stone. “My pretty little dove.”

“Joel.” You whimpered his name, hands curling around fistfuls of his dark blue sheets. You were drenched now, in dire need of some relief. If he didn’t touch you where you needed him most, you would surely lose your mind.

Desperate, you leaned back slightly onto his bed and parted your knees, your folds glistening as you showed him just how badly you needed him.

Joel groaned, almost visibly salivating at the sight. The blazing heat in his eyes sent ripples of desire coursing through your body, straight to your throbbing core.

You opened wider. “Please.”

“Christ, babygirl. Already soakin’ the sheets.” Sliding a finger up along the seam of your pussy, he grazed your clit, the touch light, but somehow still enough to make your hips arch off the mattress as white-hot pinpricks of pleasure danced their way up your spine. He lowered his head and leaned in, your sweet scent drawing him in like a moth to a flame. Just when you were about to start pleading him for more, he dipped his face into the apex of your thighs, his mouth finally, finally, meeting your wet heat.

“Oh!” you gasped, your head falling back. “Fuck!”

Against you, his lips curled upwards into a wicked grin. He’d never heard you curse before, not until now.

Joel took his time devouring you, savoring the essence of your cunt with each broad stroke of his tongue. Sealing his lips around your clit, he flicked the swollen, sensitive bundle of nerves over and over again, eliciting from you some of the sweetest noises that he had ever heard in his entire life. In preparation for what you both knew was to come, he pushed one finger inside of you, the invasion causing you to fist his sheets even harder. He then slipped in a second finger, groaning in sheer, carnal bliss at how your walls squeezed them, at the mere thought of them squeezing his cock in the same manner. How was it that you felt so much tighter this time around?

“Oh God.”

You shouldn’t be saying His name. Not like this.

Not when something this sinful was being done to you.

Hungrily, Joel lapped at you, curling both of his fingers in an upwards motion to hit the perfect spot. He knew you were close, felt it in the way that you squirmed and writhed. Draping his arm across your hips, he pinned them down onto the bed, holding you still as he chased your high as if it were his own.

“Joel,” you chanted his name over and over again in a fevered prayer. Releasing the sheets, your hands found his hair, tangling themselves in his curls. Your head fell back, and you cursed at the ceiling of his bedroom. “Fuck, fuck, fuck Joel—”

Pushing onto his mouth, you came, moaning his name so loudly you were certain the whole neighborhood was getting an earful.

Joel pulled back, his beard and mustache slicked with your spend. “S’right, honey,” he crooned, his digits still buried to the knuckle as he helped you to ride out your wave of ecstasy. Eventually, when he pulled them out, you tried closing your shaking legs. He tsked and shook his head, wrenching them open further. “No, no, baby. Keep those pretty thighs open for me. Wanna see her.” He admired his work, his cock twitching at the sight of your pussy, swollen and shining, and ready to take him.

Like earlier, there was another brief skip in time.

Mind still in a haze, you hadn’t even realized that he’d risen to his feet and guided you further up onto his bed, not until you were lying on your back with your head on his pillow and he was hovering over you, his hard length brushing against one of your messy, inner thighs when he settled himself between your legs.

Your heart began to pound in a mingle of both fear and excitement.

Joel’s eyes met yours. His pupils were blown so wide, there was not one, single trace of brown anywhere to be seen. “Y’absolutely sure about this, little dove?”

Your response came without hesitation. “Yes. I’m sure.”

He pressed a kiss to the underside of your jaw. Your submission was a gift, and he would cherish every last second of your surrender to him, savor it for as long as he possibly could. His lips, soft and warm, skimmed along the column of your throat, leaving a trail of fresh goosebumps in their wake.

If, by some chance, you decided that you wanted to go back to your father and to your faith, Joel didn’t know how he would find it in himself to let you go, not after this. Of course, he would have to let go, though.

The last thing he wanted was to help free you from one cage just to stick you right back into another. While he was no stranger to loss, he had to admit to himself that to lose you would be a knife to whatever was left of his heart.

Shoving the thought out of his mind, he reached down and gripped the base of his cock, pumping it in his fist before running the leaking head along your puffy lips, coating himself in your wetness with the hope it would ease some of the pain you were bound to feel. “Ready, babygirl?” he asked you, lightly teasing your entrance. “Might hurt a bit. M’gonna go slow. Just need you to relax for me, alright?”

“Okay.”

“I’ve got you,” he promised.

You nodded, saying softly, “I know.”

Though he knew he had all of your trust, Joel could still sense your anxiousness. He reached out for your hand, lacing your fingers together with his own as he gingerly pressed forward and eased himself into you, taking the very innocence you had been taught your entire life to preserve, one slow, careful inch at a time.

“Oh—Joel!” You cried loudly at the initial stretch, your pretty face scrunching in discomfort. Tightly slamming your eyes shut, sparks flew behind your eyelids when he finally bottomed out. The burning sting in between your thighs was too overwhelming, almost impossible to cope with. He felt so enormous within you, you could have sworn he was in your belly. Another broken cry fell from your lips and he swallowed it with a comforting kiss.

“Jesus Christ,” he hissed against your lips, a thin sheen of sweat coating his brow, neck, and chest. He wasn’t sure where he found the strength, but he suppressed his urge to thrust. Instead, he dropped his face into the hollow of your neck and waited, giving you the chance to adjust to him. He mumbled against your skin. “Doin’ so good for me, sweet girl. Y’know that? You’re doin’ so fuckin’ good for me.”

Even in discomfort, you preened at his praise.

He squeezed your hand, and after a minute, he gave an experimental thrust of his hips—and then another and another before he ceased his movement once again. He was so big and you were so deliciously full of him.

Eventually, the pain subsided, and you found yourself asking, no, begging for more. “Move.” Your other hand found itself cupping the side of his face, coaxing him to lift his head and allowing your gazes to meet. Your soft, plush thighs parted further to help accommodate the breadth of his hips. “Please, Joel. I need you to move—I need you to fuck me.”

Surely, you would be the death of him.

He drew his hips back with cautious, tender care, then advanced in the same manner to fill your precious cunt all over again. He did it over and over, your pleasured moans encouraging him to begin picking up the pace. He drove his cock in and out of your weeping pussy, the slapping of flesh against flesh, the lewd, wet squelch of you around him inspiring him to fuck you harder, faster. And the noises you were making?

There was something oh so beautiful about your cries, sweet raptures of submission as you laid there beneath him, all too graciously taking everything he had to give you like the good, good, good girl you were for him.

“Fuckin’ hell, sweetheart,” Joel rasped. “Look at you—look at the way you take my fuckin’ cock, honey.”

And you did.

Glancing down, your gaze fell between your bodies and you watched in awe, openly marveled at the way Joel slid in and out of your cunt, how he knocked hard so deeply inside of you, driving himself as far as he could possibly go.

“Fuck Joel, I’m gonna—” You tried warning him as the pressure in your belly neared its peak, but you tumbled over the edge before you even had the chance to finish your sentence. Arching up off off the bed, you pressed your chest against his, your fingers squeezing his own so hard you feared you might break them.

“That’s it babygirl, let go,” he grunted, speeding up his thrusts. “Squeeze my fuckin’ cock—just like that. Good girl. My perfect, perfect girl.”

You didn’t quite get the chance to let the praise sink in.

Joel pulled himself out of you, and with ease, he flipped you over onto your belly. His hands gripped your hips and pulled them up off the mattress, his fingers moving to firmly knead the fleshiest part of your ass. He leaned over you, the head of his cock nudging at your hole. “Y’think you can handle a little bit more, sweetheart?” he whispered the question into a tumble of messy hair, the delicate scent of the lavender shampoo you used to wash it filling his senses. “Answer me, little dove.”

“Yes,” you replied breathlessly with a nod. “I can.”

With a satisfied hum, Joel sank into you, this second stretch not quite as overwhelming at the first, but still intense. “Relax,” he murmured, hunching further over your quivering back. He pressed a kiss onto the top of your head and then leaned down to brace his hands on either side of you. “Need you to be sweet for me just a bit longer, okay, baby?”

“God,” you whimpered when the heaviness of his balls came to rest on your sensitive clit.

It was the second time you’d uttered His name.

Joel almost grinned at the irony. He found his rhythm, groaning in gut-deep satisfaction with each snap of his hips—each smooth stroke in and each smooth stroke out.

“Oh fuck, sweet girl.” Heaven was indeed a real place, and Joel Miller was buried in it to the hilt, right at this very moment.

He was getting closer and closer.

Maybe it was your eagerness to help him reach his own release mingled with the pride you knew you would feel once you did that gave you a second wind, a fresh, new burst of energy. You planted your hands firmly on his pillow. Rolling your bottom lip between your teeth, you curved your spine and pushed back onto Joel with purpose, meeting his thrusts halfway as you rode his aching length to the satiation that waited for him at the end.

“There’s my girl,” he rasped. “Oh fuckin’ Christ—”

No way he could live his life without you now.

He needed you.

He needed you so much more than you needed him.

Joel slipped an arm around your shoulders, across your chest.

“Oh!” you gasped as he then yanked you back, pulling you flush against him. The rough crash of your back against his chest, combined with the angle in which he was fucking you knocked the wind out of your lungs.

His lips were at the shell of your ear. “Stay,” he panted, his breath hot against your cheekbone. He wrapped his other hand lightly around your throat. Relentless, were his hips now—his movements had become frantic. Desperate. “Stay with me, baby.”

Even as you fought to catch your breath in the position he had you in, you picked up on the fact that he wasn’t asking you of it, nor was he demanding you of it.

He was begging you.

Him, the most feared man in this town. Begging you?

“Joel,” you choked.

“Please, my little dove,” he pleaded, turning your head towards him. His mouth was then on the corner of your own, his beard roughly scratching the soft and delicate flesh of your cheek. “I need you, babygirl. Stay with me. Please, just fuckin’ stay with me.”

Your hands curled around his wrists. “Yes, I’ll stay,” you moaned. “I’m yours, Joel. I’m all yours. I—I’m not going anywhere. I promise. I’ll stay with you.”

A low, guttural sound rumbled through his chest. Joel firmly took hold of your cross, and without so much as a warning, he ripped the chain from around your neck and tossed it somewhere over his shoulder. He heard it land on the hardwood floor with the tiniest, faint clink the moment he spilled into you, ropes of warm release coating your fluttering walls. Curses and groans spilled from his lips and into your neck. Your cunt clutched at his pulsing cock, greedy for every last drop of his spend she could get.

Once you were filled, you both collapsed beside each other on the bed, heaving to catch a steady breath.

“Y’okay, sweetheart?” Joel managed to ask, his chest still rising and falling rapidly.

Exhausted, all you could do was nod and utter, “Mhm.”

He exhaled an amused huff through his nose. “C’mere.” He reached for you and pulled you against his side. He draped an arm around your shoulders, holding you as close to him as was possible. “Y’did so good, honey.”

Your mouth curled into a small, contented smile.

Several minutes had passed by, and despite telling him that you were too tired to even think about moving, Joel made you get up and use the bathroom, and while you did so, he ran a clean washcloth under warm water. “Here, darlin’. Let me clean you up,” he’d said, his lips meeting your forehead in a loving token of affection before he sank down onto one knee and ran the damp cloth along the insides of your thighs. He took extreme care when he wiped at your swollen folds, knowing you were still sensitive to the touch. “There we go. All done, now.”

Not long after, you were both back in his bed, wrapped up in his sheets.

Yawning, you nuzzled into bare his chest, your eyelids feeling heavier and heavier with each and every second that ticked by. You’d started drifting off when you heard his voice.

“Baby?”

“Hmm?” you answered sleepily, eyes still closed.

“Did you mean what you said?”

“Mean what, Joel?”

There was a brief pause. “Y’know, when you said you’d stay with me.”

Snuggling closer to him, you mumbled, “Mhm. Of course I did.”

“S’not gonna be easy,” Joel murmured into your hair.

“I know.” You yawned. “But I have you.”

“You do. You’ve got me—and I’ve got you, babygirl.”

“Mm. I know that too, Joel.”

You felt him kiss the top of your head and then fell fast asleep in his arms.

The sun bloomed over the Grand Tetons.

Your father would wake soon, that’s to say if he wasn’t up already.

The nerves began to set in.

Joel must have sensed it. “Breathe, baby. S’gonna be okay,” he soothed, squeezing your hand.

With one of his warmer, heavier jackets that normally didn’t see the light of day until winter season draped around your shoulders, the two of you made your way down the road and towards your house. Or better said, towards your father’s house. Because after what you were about to do, that yellow and white cottage would no longer be a place you could call home.

He led you up to the porch. “Y’sure you don’t want me to go in there with you?” he asked, quietly.

You could have laughed. You almost did.

“Do you believe that to be a wise choice?”

“No, I reckon it ain’t the best idea,” Joel admitted with a sigh, raking his free hand through his unkempt, salt and pepper hair. He looked up at the house, then back at you. “Look, little dove. No matter what happens in there, just know that everythin’ will be alright. M’gonna take care of you. For the rest of my life, I’ll take care of you. I’ll try my hardest to be everythin’ you need.”

“You already are, Joel,” you said, your gaze earnest.

His chest swelled with warmth.

Truth be told, Joel didn’t know how he had managed to defy the odds—how he, of all people, had managed to make his way into that sweet, innocent, beautiful little heart of yours, but somehow he did, and he would not take this responsibility lightly.

He brushed your lips with his and promised, “Gonna be waitin’ right here, okay?”

“Okay.” Inhaling deeply, you willed yourself to let go of his hand and took a step back. You then started up the porch steps on wobbling legs. When you made it to the top, you glanced over your shoulder at Joel, who gave you a subtle nod of encouragement. Exhaling slowly, you reached for the knob with trembling fingers and turned it, opening the door. You stepped inside, your heart dropping into your stomach when you saw your father sitting there at the foot of the staircase, as if he’d been waiting for you. He had been waiting for you. Fully dressed, he sat on the second to last step with both hands folded on his bible in his lap, a rosary clutched between them. “Papa?”

He said nothing. Instead, he silently observed you—his eyes glazed over the men’s jacket and the short dress you were underneath it, the disheveled, loose hair and kiss swollen lips. Your holy cross nowhere to be seen.

“Papa.” You swallowed harshly and shifted your weight anxiously from the heel of one boot to the other. “We, um—we really need to have a talk.”

He peered around you, catching a brief glimpse of the man standing outside, waiting for you at the foot of the porch.

He cleared his throat, lightly. “Yes, child. I suppose that we do.”

Nodding tightly, you turned around and slowly closed the door. Joel’s words rang in your mind over and over, giving you the push of strength you knew you would need.

I’ve got you.

divider credit goes to @saradika 🤍

#fic: fall into temptation #joel miller x reader #joel miller x f!reader #joel miller x female reader #joel miller x afab!reader #joel miller x you #joel miller smut #joel miller series #joel miller fic #joel miller fanfiction #joel miller angst #the last of us fic #the last of us fanfiction #tlou fanfiction #post outbreak joel

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akanemnon · 10 months

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TWIN RUNES MASTERPOST

1 - 2 - 3 - 4 - 5 - 6 - 7 - 8 - 9 - 10 - 11 - 12 - 13 - 14 -15 - 16 - 17 - 18 - 19 - 20 - 21 - 21-1 - 21-2 - 21-3 - 22 - 23 -24 - 25 - 26 - 27 - 28 - 29 - 30 - 31 - 32 - 33 - 34 - 35 - 36 - 36-1 - 37 - 38 - 39 - 40 - 41 - 42 - 43 - 44 - 45 - 46 - 47 - 48 - 49 - 50 - 51 - 52 - 53 - 54 - 55 - 56 - 57

To be continued...

TWIN RUNES MINI COMICS

Glasses - Fallen down - First steps - Press [C] - Frisk Dance - But nobody came - Whatstheirface - An acquired taste - Eye opening

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TWIN RUNES - FAQ

What exactly is this AU about? Twin Runes is essentially a comedic crossover AU between the universes of Deltarune and Undertale. No fancy nicnacs. Just the characters being their chaotic selves. But there might be some darkness lurking up ahead...

When is the next comic? The comic updates most Sundays at 6:30 PM Central European Time.

Why is this AU called Twin Runes? The name is more or less a play on the typical naming format of most AU's by featuring the "Runes" part. There are no literal Twin Runes. The whole name is more of a stand in for Undertale and Deltarune as parallel worlds. Hence the "Twin" part.

When does Twin Runes take place? This AU takes place between a hypothetical Chapter 3 and Chapter 4 of Deltarune. On the Undertale side of things, it takes place post neutral route just as Frisk was about to deliver Undyne's letter to Alphys.

Is the player a thing in this AU? The player lost control over both human children as soon as Frisk entered the world of Deltarune.

When Chapter 3 and 4 are released, will it affect the story? Any chapters after Chapter 3 won't affect the story in the grand scheme of things. If possible, I might make a reference to Chapter 3, but all in all Twin Runes created a new timeline so to speak.

What's up with Kris' and Frisk's hair? The red bits of their hair is more or less a representation of their souls. That in turn is also why Chara doesn't have that feature. They are soulless. It's a stylistic choice.

What's that thing on Kris' chest? It's a scar they got from tearing out their soul.

And why do they have weird lines all over their body? Both Kris and Frisk's anatomy resemble that of ball-jointed dolls. They appear just as markings across their bodies. Think of them as elaborate birthmarks. Kris and Frisk are still made of flesh and blood, but are in fact hypermobile. The reason as to why they do is still a little secret :) People here like to refer to these markings as "puppet limbs". You can get a better look at them and the scar in this artwork

Why does Kris have braces? This is why:

Why is Dark World Frisk green? Frisk changes their main sweater colors with Kris when they enter the Dark World.

Can other ghosts see Chara? (pre Darkner transformation) No, only Frisk and Kris are able to see Chara.

IS KRIS NOW FRISK'S COUNTERPART OR CHARA'S???? :)

So, was Chara in the locket all along? No, Chara possessed the locket to become a Darkner.

Where are Jevil and Spamton? Are they in Castle Town? The Fun Gang have already fought these two in the previous chapters and added them into their inventory. Outside of that little dream sequence, neither will be making an appearance.

Is anyone from Undertale Yellow gonna make an apperance? Outside of a tiny cameo from Clover (that has no greater bearing on the story) no one from Undertale Yellow is going to make an appearance.

Is (insert character here) gonna go to the Dark World/underground? With the way the story is going to play out, only the main group will be heading to this new Dark World. The rest of the story will be taking place there.

Is the Group Project miniseries canon to Twin Runes? It was made before Twin Runes was conceived and before I had any idea I would make a series. It is it's own self-contained story. So it is NOT canon to Twin Runes, but You can read it here: 1 - 2 - 3 - 4 - 5 - 6

How did you come up with the idea of Twin Runes? Twin Runes is an offshoot of a separate script I wrote. It's a similar concept but turned on its head. The funny moments in that script made me just continue what now is the start of Twin Runes. I pretty much just wanted to see if I am actually capable of drawing a comic to begin with. So... in a way Twin Runes is my first attempt at a comic ever. If I ever finish Twin Runes, then I know I can tackle turning that mammoth project of a script into a comic too. In the grand scheme of things these two projects are sister series. They have A LOT in common and even share similar plot elements. When Twin Runes is over you will automatically also know certain mysteries of The Other Script.

What is The Other Script? As of this moment I call The Other Script: "Lost in the In-Between". At its core it's an inverse of Twin Runes. I.e. Kris falling into the underground and being aided by Frisk on their quest to return home. The story and jokes are a considerably more grounded than in Twin Runes and so are the characters. Though they do have their moments from time to time. The overall mood of that script is a lot darker in nature and it's a 200+ page passion project of mine.

Am I allowed to make fanart? ABSOLUTELY! You are very welcome to make fanart if you feel like it. Please let me know if you do by tagging me, so I can share it with everyone to see so that you get the appreciation you deserve :)

Can I use the funny faces you draw for memes or for private stuff with friends? That's what they're here for :)

Is there x ship in this comic? The focus of the story is not on shipping. If it's in the game it will very likely be mentioned or brought up, but that's about it.

What pronouns do you go with for the human children? I try to stick as close as possible to the games so I use THEY/THEM FOR ALL OF THEM WITHOUT ANY EXCEPTIONS.

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ABOUT ASKS

Asks will open for 24 hours after a new comic has been released. Your questions will then be answered over the course of the week.

Try not to submit multiple asks. If necessary, just keep everything in one post.

Keep in mind that I receive AL LOT of asks, so not every question can be answered...

Questions containing spoilers will not be answered on principle. Wouldn't be as fun if the surprise was ruined, right?

Before leaving an ask (mostly for everyone who's new), please make sure to read the FAQ section above. A lot of times your question might have been answered already :>

I love memes and dumb jokes as much as the next guy, but try not to spam

It probably goes without saying, but please stay civil. I want to give everyone the respect they deserve, and naturally like to be treated the same way.

Please be mindful about drawing requests. It is understandable if you're eager to see a certain character drawn in my style, but I do not like to be bombarded by requests. The more it happens, the less likely I am to do it. Be kind and ask nicely.

Don't use other people's posts that I reblogged to ask me questions! It has happened before and I do not wish to see this!

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REFERENCE SHEETS

The following are ref sheets of characters that don't have established Dark World forms yet (as of writing this comic). The list will be updated as soon as a new character enters the Dark World. Here you will also find references of characters that might appear as surprise cameos, or maybe even completely new faces...

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FULL ART

#twin runes #twin runes masterpost #masterpost #deltarune comic #comic #deltarune au #crossover #undertale #my art #FAQ #frequently asked questions #important #please read #deltarune

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sapphosclosefriend · 5 months

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- Money, Power, Glory pt 2 -

Pairing: CEO! Silverfox! Natasha Romanoff x Escort! Fem! Reader

Genre: smut

Summary: your first time at the Romanoff household starts off more than well. Part 1 Part 3 Part 4

Word count: 4.9k

Warnings: top! Natasha x bottom! R, Natasha has a penis, big age gap (N=56, R=24), very brief drinking (N), making out, SMUT, dry humping, face riding, 69ing, tit fucking, brief cum eating (R).

A/N: this story contains smut so anyone who isn’t 18+ DNI. Sorry for the longest wait ever, chapter 3 should be basically ready to go, so I'll dedicate myself to writing the Christmas special in the meantime! Thanks so much to @supercorpdanbeau and @rt--link for being so amazing 💕 As usual, likes, reblogs and comments are very appreciated! Enjoy ♡

Masterlist

You tried so hard to keep your wandering eyes from selfishly focusing on her hands as she poured herself a glass of whiskey by the small corner bar in her living room, but you just couldn't help but appreciate the beautiful sight in front of you. You could see the tension in her casual standing as she finished making herself a drink, before walking over to the couch and sitting down next to you, too far away for your bodies to touch but close enough to suggest her intent to make it happen. You couldn't keep your lips from slightly curling up at her eyes, behind the glass of expensive liquor, constantly moving, not as sneakily as she thought, to the small snippet of thighs that was being revealed by your dress naturally riding up a bit thanks to your crossed legs.

She thought she was going to be stronger than that, stronger than most, yet there she was, with a tent already starting to form in her pants at the sight of a beautiful young woman all dressed up for her, sitting on her couch only waiting to be taken by her. She felt like a hormonal teenager at the thought of how easily you had started to affect her. She wasn't exactly a playboy, but she'd seen and been with her fair share of women in her life, yet the simple sight of you, sitting while turned towards her, showing off your legs and hips and chest, only made her mouth drier the more she drank. She had downed her glass in one go by the time her eyes were able to leave your body and, in the brief seconds that seemed to have lasted hours, she had been able to explore every inch of you she could have laid her gaze on, leaving her only wanting for more.

“Would you like to talk for a bit?”

Your words, spoken so casually in contrast to her almost spiraling thoughts, pulled her eyes to your face. You were smiling politely, yet sincerely, at her. You almost felt bad for putting an end to the amusing sight of her getting herself more and more flustered, but you selfishly needed to, if not to know more about her, at least to get started as soon as possible. You were hoping that your poker face was good enough to only display your faux calmness and hide the turmoil of emotions you were feeling at being face to face with her, so close you would’ve been able to feel her touch if only you moved your leg one small bit.

“Do you usually do that?”

She tried to regain what composure she had left by trying to engage in the casual chatting you had initiated as she leaned to put down her empty glass on the coffee table. You had declined her polite offer for a drink of your own, but started to regret your decision at her husky voice and the sight of her sharp jawline and lean neck getting exposed as she moved to settle down the expensive glass, making you feel your cheeks getting slightly warmer and your heartbeat faster for a second.

“It's not necessary, it's just to let you know that we can, if you want. And yes, apparently, a little ramble can help destress just as much”

By the time you had finished speaking, a smirk was gracing her lips, making her appearance seem much closer to the usual confident one you had always seen in her pictures and wiping away almost all traces of the small, brief panic you had just gotten a glimpse of.

“So they treat you like a therapist”

You couldn’t help but stifle a giggle at the exact same words uttered by multiple of your friends in the past. She was right, though. Surprisingly enough, one of the main skills you absolutely needed to have, and that your agent couldn’t stop reminding you of at first, was that of listening. Keeping updated on the news, always reading and being able to hold a proper conversation were definitely important, but never as critical as always being willing to listen for as long as needed and to indulge in any issue presented. It didn’t matter how much you didn’t care or what pieces of shits were talking to you, their problems were the greatest ones in the world and the only ones a simple girl like you could’ve ever had on her mind. Or at least that’s what they needed to believe.

“Sometimes. I guess that they like therapy with a little more kick at the end of the session”

You tried to be just a little more playful, hoping to get her to relax and feel like she could open up in case she wanted to. Her brief chuckle warmed your heart at its unrestrained nature and made it impossible for you to keep yourself from ogling at her as she swiftly ran her hand through her gray hair to get it back out of her face after she had briefly lost her composure. Her attention was back on your face as she found you beaming at her with your lower lip caught in your teeth to try, in vain, to hold back a big smile that threatened to come out at her beauty. A strange mix of sweet hunger, so tender it almost weirded her out, started to come to the surface as her eyes locked with your young and almost innocent ones, as alluring as the most dangerous siren's. If she had to be honest, she kind of felt like an asshole for wanting to jump right into the more intimate part of the night, overlooking your kind offer to let her vent, but got reassured once she finally noticed your slightly quickened breathing and fingers fidgeting with your dress as you leaned towards her a little bit.

“It’s been a pretty rough week. Thank you for coming”

She tried to acknowledge your availability while she was still in full control of her own mind, because now she knew that, as soon as she would have gotten a taste of you, she wouldn’t have been able to stop herself anymore.

“Don’t worry about that. I’m happy to be here if it means I can help you out”

You tried so hard to keep your voice from trembling too pathetically and ignore her darkening eyes boring into you, but the heavenly sight in front of you, and the slight straining in her pants, only made your cheeks grow warmer at the excitement you tried to contain that made you feel like a foolish schoolgirl.

“What can I do, Ms Romanoff?”

Her jaw clenched as your hand gently fell on a way too safe spot on her thigh, right above her knee, miles away from where you both truly wanted it to get.

“You can call me Natasha”

She couldn’t tear her eyes away from your lips, slightly apart, a sign of your collected stance starting to crumble, that only called her more intensely as you wet them before unconsciously biting your lower one as anticipation ate you up more and more, making your hand slightly tighten on her thigh.

“What do you want me to do, Natasha?”

This time, as you almost whispered the words, your weak gaze succumbed to the seduction of her lips as she slowly inched closer to you, hoping to get rid of the space cruelly dividing you two and finally get lost in the pleasure she so desperately wanted to reach. In that moment she felt as if she needed nothing more than the feeling of your lips on hers, even though she knew that as soon as her favor would have been granted she wouldn’t have been able to stop herself from trying to get more and more of you. She had almost reached her final destination, her gates to heaven, when you suddenly turned your head a little bit, making her lips land on the corner of your mouth. She couldn’t stop a deep grumble from coming to the surface, but barely had the time to feel the initial frustration of being denied what she wanted, before you hand moved in the direction of her center, still way too far away for her liking, but close enough for the warmth of your skin through the fabric on her to make her twitch in her pants, and your lips started gently kissing her neck, leaving her even more in need of some relief, if that was even possible. Her panting in your ear as your hand moved closer and closer to where she needed it the most made goosebumps grow on your arms and you couldn’t stop a muffled whimper in her neck when she grasped your waist with one hand, touching you for the first time. You wanted, no, needed to feel her, but, for the sake of teasing her some more, you swiftly skipped her crotch to sneak your hand under her sweater and touch her bare stomach, pathetically mewling against her throat at the way her hand moved under your ass to pull you even closer to her, making you almost sit in her lap. You were both a panting mess and, after some wiggling and squirming from her trying to keep herself from ripping your dress with her bare hands, you ended up fully on top of her, straddling her lap while still on your knees, resisting her hands on your hips trying to make you properly sit on her clothed erection. It was only once she finally gave up and ended up moving downward to bunch your dress over your hips and grab your ass that you finally fully sat down on her, letting her feel your covered center on her.

“Fuck!”

Her voice and the buck of her hips into you sent a strong shiver through your whole body and a pang of arousal in your lower stomach. Leaning your forehead against hers, you looked deep into her eyes as you grounded your hips into her hard on, starting with a low rhythm that easily got the older woman panting and desperately grabbing your hips to try to make your movements quicken. The rough surface of her boxers and your underwear did wonders at heightening the pleasure you both already felt and in no time you could feel the fabric against yourself dampening up from your arousal, thanks to the way her covered cock perfectly hit your clit.

The sudden movement of her arms, slithering around your torso to keep you from moving away, and her hips thrusting more and more up into you, made you take pity on her and you finally started gradually speeding up your movements. The moan she let out once you grounded harder into her took your breath away and got a louder one out of you at the hard grasp of her hands on your waist, making you lose track of the speed of your own hips, seemingly moving on their own accord to only make you both feel as good as possible. The older woman found herself enamored at the sinful sight of the black fabric of your underwear glistening a bit under the warm light of her living room and creating a small damp patch on her pants. For a second she couldn’t help but find herself wondering if your displays of pure bliss were genuine or if she was witnessing a thoroughly curated act you used with all of your clients, but she decided to trust you and the whiny moans coming from deep within you and solidly planted her feet on the ground to easily thrust up into you and meet your movements.

The almost animalistic way in which you were dry humping each other was making you lose your mind, even more so at the other woman cursing under her breath and the sudden slap she landed on your ass, making you moan loudly as your head fell back, exposing your neck to her and making it hard for her to respect your no marking rule and latch onto the soft skin she suddenly needed to taste. Natasha completely lost her composure at the sight of your face, a perfect display of pure ecstasy, and you hips erratically moving to take your own pleasure from her and got a hold of your hips in a way that definitely must’ve hurt a bit, but maybe not as much as she thought, according to your breathless moan at the action, to press you even harder on her, getting herself impossibly close to her orgasm.

“Shit, I’m gonna cum”

She was looking at your center moving over her clothed cock once her panting words got your attention to her face and, finally wanting to indulge her initial wish you still hadn’t granted her, you moved one of your hands from her shoulders to the nape of her neck, getting her attention back on you, and leaned in, stopping for a second and only a breath away, before finally pressing your lips on hers, making her moan in the kiss at finally being able to taste you, even if only for a moment. The hard orgasm hit her so hard she had to move away to lean her head back, closing her eyes at the high levels of ecstasy you made her reach, and grunt loudly every time her hips thrusted up hard into you on their own accord while shooting string after string of cum into her own underwear. The sinfully beautiful sight of her face as she came and the veins of her neck, more defined than ever, sent a painful twinge of arousal to your core as you moved more and more slowly over her as she came down from her orgasm, stopping only once she hissed at her sensitive cock meeting your center with one final thrust of hers.

“Holy shit”

Her head was still leaning back on the edge of the couch and her eyes were still closed as she murmured the words, but she opened them once you pressed one last kiss to her lips, looking more inviting than necessary as she breathed through them while she caught her breath. For a second she found herself lost in the sight of your exposed lower half, clad only by a black thong that barely covered your core and traces of clear slick on the inside of your thighs. Your chest was about to spill out of your dress as you heaved, your hair was a bit messier than earlier and your hands were still tightly gripping her shoulders for dear life and that’s when she realized, after her post orgasm haziness started disappearing, that you hadn’t cum yet.

One of her hands finally left its death grip on your hips, leaving behind a delicious ache on your skin, as she reached for your face to swipe her thumb over your warm cheek before gently cradling it and leaning in to peck your lips, waiting for your approval of her action and receiving it at the slight drag of your tongue over her lower one. As soon as she opened her mouth you were on her, kissing her with all your might and threading your fingers through her glorious hair to make sure to keep her as close as possible. You were still on edge from the high levels of arousal still pumping intensely through you and, as they blurred your mind, also thanks to her tongue easily dominating yours, they prevented you from registering her movements, which you noticed only by the time she had positioned you just how she wanted.

You ended up straddling her, as she now lay down on the couch, while you still made out like your life depended on it and your hips unconsciously tried to find some relief by slowly moving over her lower abdomen. She soon ceased your movements, though, and gently started pushing you from the back of your thighs until you had wiggled closer and closer to her face. Standing on your knees while hovering over her torso, the sight of her lips, swollen by the intense kissing and almost curled into a small smirk, and her hands gently caressing your thighs almost made them buckle at the imminent moment. For a second, all the hints of playfulness were gone from her eyes and got replaced by hard seriousness, as she nodded once at you and waited for your own nod of approval, that tried unsuccessfully to hide your enthusiasm and need, before smiling softly at you. It's only once she had made sure that you were fine with her wish that she slithered down a bit until you were right by her neck, close enough for her to smell the arousal that you couldn't contain anymore. You were driving her insane and, ignoring the uncomfortable feeling in her pants from her previous orgasm and her still semi hard cock, she slowly started moving her hands over your body, over your thighs, your ass, your back, until she was swiftly moving your soaked underwear to the side, moaning at the sight of your exposed pussy and the fabric briefly sticking to it because of your wetness. You looked like a dream to her, looking down at her with pure anticipation as you tried to keep your breathing at bay, and all she needed in that moment was only to see you crumble just for her.

Her hands finally got back to the apex of your thigh and, after taking a secure hold on both of them, she gave one small push to make you lower yourself on her. She knew what you wanted and she wanted it too, all of it immediately, but the smooth skin of your inner thighs, still glistening, did nothing but made you look like an absolute goddess to her, and who was she to deprive you of the adequate worship you deserved? Once her lips left a small peck on your soft skin, still close enough to your center to make your hips buckle a little and your breathing hitch, the older woman's hunger got the best of her and, while still trying to control herself enough to unfortunately leave no trace of herself behind, she got lost in the plumpness of your inner thighs. She would've gladly spent hours kissing and very lightly scraping her teeth over the velvety skin if it meant hearing you yelp over and over as you tried to keep yourself upright.

Your mind was foggy and all you needed to clear it was her mouth just a bit higher. You knew at least a part of her was trying to get you to your breaking point, but she thankfully stopped her cruel actions once your hand suddenly flew to her hair to try to keep yourself standing, getting her attention to your closed eyes and shaky breathing. Natasha wished she could've said that the reason behind her stopping her torturous teasing was to indulge you in the pleasure you deserved, but the truth was that the selfish need to see you broken because of her was way too intense for her to keep herself back any longer.

The moment her lips left your skin you felt some sort of relief at being able to properly breath once again, but almost missed her teasing once she immediately dove into your pussy, drawing a breathy moan out of you before you could contain yourself.

“Fuck, you taste good”

Natasha couldn't help herself from briefly overlooking your pleasure to randomly explore your core as she pleased, getting hungrier each time she discovered a new spot that got your thighs trembling over her. She was the thirstiest woman on the planet and you were the most gratifying oasis she could've asked to encounter. For the first time in your career, you felt embarrassed of the extreme pleasure you were feeling and its unrestrained displays you could barely contain, but the swift movements of her tongue and lips, clear sign of someone who knew very well what they were doing, were getting you way too close to your peak in such a short period of time. By the time she gave some mercy to your clit and moved downwards to enter your aching hole with her tongue, her nose bumped right on your sensitive bean, making it impossible for you to stop your hips from slightly moving over her face to heighten the heavenly feeling. You tried to keep your loud moans at bay by biting down on your index finger, but foolishly defeated yourself by looking down at the older woman, finding her hooded eyes already on you, as she moaned against your folds and tightened her hold on your thighs at the sight of your watery, desperate eyes, drawing a loud whine deep from you.

You wanted more, you needed more, so you suddenly lifted yourself off of her, ignoring her frustrated grunt, to turn around and place yourself back over her lips before immediately starting to unbutton her pants, hearing her sighing and cursing to herself at the prospect of your touch directly on her. Her sticky boxers were an absolute mess, and you tried to ignore her mouthwatering cum on them to get her cock fully free from the fabric. The woman under you, resuming her mission to make you cum, finally got your attention away from her length standing proud in front of you. You tried to distract yourself from your impending peak by finally wrapping your hand around her and licking the clear precum oozing out of the head of her cock, feeling her moaning right against you at the small bits of stimulation you were giving her. You truly realized you had been lazily sucking her head for quite a bit, your mind completely taken over by her perfect ministrations between your legs, only once her hands tightened their hold on your thighs so much you were sure there was definitely going to be at least some bruising the next day, and she couldn’t hold back her groans anymore, shooting such delicious sparkles of pleasure through you thanks to the vibrations of her voice on your core. You wished you could have pleased her in a much better way with your mouth, selfishly wanting to feel her in your throat as well, but the orgasm that was seconds away from crashing down on you finally made it impossible for you to hold back your moans, making your composure crumble once and for all and finally gracing her ears with such heavenly sounds that quickly got her equally close even without your touch on her anymore. You finally snapped for the first time of the night with her tongue on your clit and her hands almost ripping your expensive, flimsy underwear in half as she tightly held it to pull you even more flush against her mouth, so desperate to taste your heavenly essence she would’ve almost felt embarrassed for it if she was in any way in her right mind.

Your legs were shaky and, anytime you thought you had finally caught your breath, the sight of her hard cock in front of your face, right on the brink of another orgasm, made the air get caught in your throat all over again at its sight gracing your no longer fogged up eyes, now able to properly appreciate it. You had to be the one to stop Natasha, still lazily tasting as much of you as she could, and lift yourself off of her, muffling an almost whiny sound of frustration of hers with a quick kiss, which you deepened as you grabbed the neck of her sweater to make her move to a sitting position. One of her hands immediately moved to your chest and finally indulged herself, groping your boob a bit more firmly the more you hummed in the kiss at the beautiful sensation of being wanted by her. Feeling her trying to pull you in more and more to make you sit back in her lap, right over her thigh, you unfortunately had to break the perfect kiss.

“I wanna make you cum”

Your sweet voice and pretty eyes as you mumbled the words while looking up at her made her twitch at the mere thought of her cum possibly painting your skin and you could almost see the thoughts quickly racing behind her eyes as she decided where exactly she wanted to do it. Your pretty face admittedly looked just too inviting for it, the thought having graced her mind only moments after you greeted her at the door, but her thoughts couldn’t stop from going back to the sinful sight of your cleavage so perfectly on display for her yet still way too covered for her liking. Without uttering a word she reached for your back to slowly pull down the small zipper while leaving pecks over the top of your chest and collarbone, slowing her moving hand every time you shakily gasped in order to never stop hearing the beautiful noises you made that went straight to her cock each time.

“I wanna fuck these tits”

Her words, spoken more to herself than to you, only drove you more insane for her and clouded your mind as she pushed you to lie on the couch, leaning over you between your legs as she hurriedly pulled your dress down and took off your bra. She left the dress below your torso, not bothering to slip the now useless fabric fully off of you, and leaving it bunched at your waist to expose your chest and core to her. She wouldn't have had the chance to do it even if she wanted to, as her cock bumped with your naked center every time she moved while hungrily kissing your boobs. Your hand on her head as she sucked your nipple got her attention to your beautiful face as you looked at her with hooded eyes while biting your lip. That was it, she couldn't keep herself back anymore, she needed to cum and she needed to do it all over you right then and there.

Your heart skipped a beat as she moved over you to straddle your torso and took your breath away at her beauty as she loomed over you and let her spit fall on her cock before pumping it. You couldn't help but stare in awe at the lewd action, making her hum at you staring at her lips with your mouth open.

“Now that's interesting”

Your slightly embarrassed look at her new discovery only amused her even more and, gently holding your chin, she managed to haze your already obedient mind even more as she spoke once again.

“Open up”

You immediately opened your mouth and pushed your tongue out a little, waiting with closed eyes to be graced by the goddess on top of you, but felt slight disappointment when her hand ended up leaving your face and she chuckled through her nose.

“Maybe later”

Damn her. You shot your eyes open at her words and you couldn't help but pout slightly, before reluctantly nodding obediently at her, secretly savoring the “good girl” coming from her perfect lips. You couldn't even fathom the power the older woman already had over you and could only lay limp to let her position her cock between your boobs before grabbing each one and pressing them on either side of her own length. The moment her hips began to move and she threw her head back with a loud moan your breath was knocked away from you and you were left to stare in awe at her beautiful face taken over by pleasure and the sight of her cock moving on your chest, looking way too delicious to ignore. She knew she was barely going to last seconds, but she felt no embarrassment as her mind was completely taken over by ecstasy. Seeing your tongue out, waiting for the head of her cock every time she thrusted forward, almost got her to her breaking point and your eyes meeting hers, beaming at her as she took her own pleasure from your body, finally made her reach her peak. As soon as her orgasm suddenly hit her she quickly pumped her cock with her hand to finally shoot her cum all over your tits, groaning as you intently kept looking at her as she breathlessly moaned each time more of the white fluid hit your skin.

She felt almost shocked by just how hard she came, certainly the hardest in a very long time, but barely had the time to recover at all before the sight of you scooping some of her cum from your boob with your fingers and sucking them clean with a languid moan left her speechless.

It was going to be a long long night…and hopefully the beginning of an even longer acquaintance.

Part 3

Tags: @fxckmiup @natashasilverfox @dmenby3100 @marvels--slut @dvrkhcld @elenimoris @mrsrushman @mrsromanoff @thalia-is-not-ok @alianovnasposts @clintsupremacy @taliiiaasteria @meowymari @lissaaaa145 @natashaswife4125 @olsenmyolsen @angrywhisperslove @aemilia19

#natasha romanoff #natasha romanoff x reader #natasha romanoff x fem!reader #natasha romanoff smut #black widow #black widow x reader #black widow x female reader #black widow smut #marvel #mcu

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doitforbangchan · 25 days

Text

All Bark and No Bite - 14

Surprise!! Plz enjoy this early chapter as my thanks for your patience:)

please read the note at the end!!

Masterlist /Series masterlist

Chan x reader (y/n) x ot8

ABO!Nonidol!SKZ Alternate Universe

Previous - Next

Chapter Warnings: Afab/fem reader, smut, unprotected p in v, threesome (mxfxm), kissing, grinding, fingering, spanking, oral (m & f receiving), subspace, public(?) sex, Dom!Chan, Sub!reader, SoftDom! Hyunjin, kinda Switch!Felix?, unbalanced power dynamic, biting/claiming, blood, cursing, pet names, crying, begging, fluff, angst

WC: 10.6 k

It was a surprise to you that Seungmin wasn’t in bed with you when you woke up, given how absurdly late you both stayed up last night. In fact he must have gotten up quite earlier than you, given his spot in bed was now cold. He was known to be an early riser but you had assumed he would sleep in at least once.

You rolled over groggily, barely able to make out the block lettering on the alarm clock beside the bed that read a glaring ‘11:56 am’.

Holy shit how did you sleep-in that late?

You shot out of bed in a hurry and clamored out of the room. You didn’t see anybody in the hall as you crept into the bathroom. After doing your business you were washing your hands when you took in your appearance. You attempted to flatten down your bed head after you splashed some water on your face. You were still in Seungmin's shirt, the garment falling to mid thigh and covering the panties you wore underneath.

You still didn’t see anyone when you went down the stairs, though you could hear humming coming from somewhere. Everyone must be partaking in a lazy sunday. You rounded a corner from the hall into the laundry room, and in your hurry ran into something. More like someone.

“Well good morning, puppy. Or should I say good afternoon.” Seungmin snickered when you ran into him.

“What are you doing?” You quizzed, steadying yourself by putting your hands on his shoulders.

“Nothing to worry your little puppy head with.” He tutted, you peaked your head up to look past him into the room and saw there were multiple piles of cleaned, and folded laundry.

“Minnie! How long have you been up? And why didn’t you wake me?” You demanded, stomping your foot.

He shrugged, his head leaning back and forth, “A couple hours maybe. And why would I wake you up? You needed your rest after I blew your back out yesterday.”

You laid a smack to his shoulder, “Don’t say it like that! You’re a heathen!” He only laughed, grabbing your wrist and pulling you closer to him. “Don’t laugh at me!”

“Aww but you’re so funny. Yapping at me like this. Lemme handle it, just this once.” His other hand squished your cheeks together making you purse your lips. He gave you teasing kisses all over your face and to your lips.

“Minnie!” You attempted to protest through your uncontainable giggling, only half trying to push him off.

He hummed, “That’s right, say my name.” He gave you one more frisky smooch then released you. “Though, I think I preferred when you were screaming it when you were falling apart on my dick.”

You felt your face heat up and were unable to meet his eyes, so you looked down with a pout. “You shouldn’t say such things aloud.”

“Hmpf, why? It’s true. No sense in denying a fact, pup.” He pulled the collar of his shirt away, showing you the red imprints left by your teeth from the previous night. “ And from how deep this bite is, I’d say you liked it too.” He wore a proud smirk when you tentatively brought your fingers up to the wound you made on his otherwise perfect flesh. The beta let out a purr when you subconsciously leaned closer, and pressed your lips tenderly to the marred bite.

“I did like it,” you whispered when you pulled away. “What I don’t like is when one of my boys doesn’t let me do my part.”

“From my perspective you’ve done your part plenty.” he had a smirk

“You know what I mean. I need to help around the house, I need to take care of you boys. It’s literally in my nature. Please, Minnie?” You fluttered your lashes, trying to appeal to his sweet side.

He thought for a second then sighed, “Fine puppy. You win. You wanna help?” he asked as he backed up into the room. You nodded enthusiastically. “Then you can take this load up for me.” He hands you a basket full of neatly folded clothes.

You took it from his hands, “To your room?”

“Nuh uh.” He shook his head. “To Minhos.”

Seungmin swore he could see your heart literally sink.

“If it’s too much for you, I can take it to him..” He reached to take the basket back from you but you moved out of his reach.

“No, I can do it. It’s not a big deal.” You attempted to shrug in nonchalance, though you had a feeling he could see right through you. You gave him a shaky smile when he looked like he wanted to interfere. “It’s ok Minnie. Really. I’ll take it up there now.” You turned on your heel with a quickness.

He murmured something that you didn’t catch as you left the room, laundry in hand. A quiet be careful on his lips.

Your feet felt heavy as you trudged up the steps to Minhos room. Neither of you had spoken to each other since the fight you got into the day before. Coming up to his door you felt incredibly nervous, unsure if you should knock or just open it. You didn’t know if he was even in there or if he would be receptive to you if he was.

“Don’t be such a little bitch, Y/n.” You muttered, steeling your anxiety the best you could, and raising your fist slowly before giving timid knocks to the wood.

You held your breath as you listened for any sign of life, and it hitched when you heard a quiet “Come in.”

Fuck, he is in there.

You held the basket with one arm as you slowly opened the door, a quiet creek was the only thing breaking through the silence. Minho was laying on his bed, leaning against his headboard with a laptop on his lap. He lightly straightened up at seeing it was you who requested entry into his space. His cat-like eyes narrowed at you, then to the basket you held tightly in your arms.

“I uh- I have your clothes.” You stuttered lamely.

Minho gestured to his closet with his head, never taking his eyes off of you. “You can set it by the closet.” You nodded in understanding but didn’t reply. Initially the goal was to move in and out as quickly and efficiently as possible, but now that you're here in his space you found yourself taking timid apprehensive steps. Your body felt ridgid as he watched you. You would later blame it on the overwhelming tannin rich musk that permeated all around you for making you dizzy.

You were bent over setting down the basket by his wardrobe with shaky hands when he spoke again.

“Cute panties.”

You shot back up briskly and pulled your shirt down to cover you further. Somehow you had completely forgotten you didn’t have any pants on. You went to spin on your heels to hightail it out of there but you were met with his imposing figure standing directly behind you. You didn’t even sense his movement until suddenly he was right there. You put your hand on your heart in shock, a quiet gasp barely escaping.

“Why’re you so on edge?” His tone was mildly inquisitive, albeit a bit bored sounding.

You chose to ignore his question, instead asking your own “What are you doing?” You tried to keep your voice firm and you almost did if not for the small quiver in your tone. He didn’t respond, choosing to offer you a shrug before he abruptly grabbed your body and spun you back around. “Minho!”

The beta lifted his hand up to the collar of the shirt you’re wearing and yanked it down to expose your shoulder, his eyes zeroing in on the newest addition. He traced over the healing wound, feeling its ridges and divots. “This one is pretty deep. Seung has some sharp ass teeth.” He pressed lightly into the skin making you whine. “Careful omega, get enough of these and you may just make me jealous.”

Minho removed his hands and straightened your shirt out, then he spun you back around. “And why would you be jealous, Minho? You wanna take a bite outta me?”

He snorted as if amused by your taunt, “ Keep up your attitude and biting won’t be the only thing I do to you.”

You tilted your face up to try and glare at him, “You can’t scare me.”

“You wanna bet?”

There was an involuntary shiver when he repeated the menacing words he had said to you yesterday, causing him to smirk as if he had won some sort of silent battle.

“Thank you for bringing my clothes up. I think it’s time you scamper back to your rabbit hole like a good little bunny now, hm?” He patted your head and gestured his hand to the door you had previously come through. Everything about his tone was so condescending.

You just scoffed and stomped to his door, yanking it open and slamming it behind you. His laugh at your rage made you want to scream. You turned back towards his door, sticking your tongue out and flipping it off silently.

“What are you doin, baby?”

“AHH” You shrieked, quickly turning around to find Hyunjin behind you, now laughing his ass off. In fact he was laughing so hard he leaned against the wall clutching his stomach as he wheezed. His eyes crinkled and a tear threatened to fall. “Hyunjin!!”

“I’m- sorry- baby.” He said between his laughter, attempting to contain himself. “I didn’t mean to scare you.”

“Yeah well…” You felt your face heat up as you avoided looking at him.

“Oh baby, I’m sorry, come er.” He started to feel bad about scaring you, even if it was an accident. He pushed off the wall and gathered you into his embrace. “Lemme make it better.” He nuzzled his face into your neck, his long hair getting in your face and tickling your nose. Then he slathered you in his wet smooches.

You giggled in his arms, attempting escape. “Ok ok I forgive you Jinnie.”

He stopped kissing you but didn’t let you go yet, “I was looking for you. Get ready, we’re going on a date.”

Your eyes widened and shined at the prospect, “A date?” Your voice was filled with excitement.

“Uh huh, a proper date for my girl. Wear one of those cute sundresses you have.” He kissed your lips tenderly then he let you go. “You have thirty minutes to get ready, starting….. Now!” He smacked your butt to send you into action.

You wasted no time, sprinting to your room to change your clothes. On the way you passed Chan who was exiting his office. “Woah where are you going, speed racer?”

“Gotta get ready!” You called as you continued on your path. You heard him start to follow you as you went into your room and trifled through your closet.

“Get ready for what, my love?” He leaned against the door jam as he watched in amusement as you fluttered around the room.

“Jinnie is gonna take me on a date!” You had a huge grin on your face as you compared dresses. “He said to wear one of my dresses but I have no idea what one would fit the vibe.”

“Hmmm, I say go with the white one. Makes your eyes sparkle.” He came up to sit on your bed as you held the blue one up to yourself, “Yeah that one suits you.”

“Mm, yeah you’re right it is very pretty.” You agreed, then began stripping your current pjs off.

Chans eyes met your bare chest and he let out a low groan, “ gotta warn a man before you go throwing your clothes off, makes me not wanna let you go with Hyunjin and keep you here all to myself.”

You giggled at him, “You’re cute.” You pulled your panties down and quickly pulled up a new pair. You squealed when his arms shot out and grabbed you, hauling you on top of him so you were straddling him. “Channie, I gotta get ready!”

“Hmpf, you’re breaking my heart here baby.” He threw his head back dramatically as if you had actually wounded him. “But I guess I could let you go for a while.” He acted like he was toying with the idea, his head moving side to side. “If tonight I get you all to myself, hm?”

“Promise, you can have me allllll to yourself, alpha.” You stuck your pinky out and he took it with his own, sealing your promise. “Now I seriously have to get ready, Hyunjin only gave me thirty minutes.”

“You’re six minutes late, baby.” Hyunjin was pouting when you met him outside after getting ready.

“I had like no time! What do you expect from me, I’m just a girl.” You threw your hands up comically, causing him to chuckle at your antics. It was only then you noticed the large basket and blanket he held in his arms. “Are we going on a picnic?!”

He laughed once again at your excitement. “Yeah, I thought we could take advantage of the beautiful weather.” He tucked the blanket under his arm so he could hold his hand out for you to take, which you did with no hesitation. “I know a spot not too far from the house.”

Hyunjin led you into the woods away from the house. As you got further and further away you came upon a clearing. More like a meadow, with pops of color exploding in a wild arrange of flowers that clustered the ground. It looked untouched by man, beautiful and vibrant. Like a secret hideaway.

“Oh Jinnie, it’s beautiful.” You put your hand to your heart as you admired the meadow. The way the tall grass swayed in the breeze, and the way the birds chirped excitedly was very mesmerizing.

“Yeah, it really is.” You were too busy staring at the beauty in front of you to notice Hyunjin was staring directly at you. He cleared his throat after a second, and nodded towards the field. “Lets set up around here?”

“Perfect!” You grinned, taking the blanket from him and you spread it out on the ground. It wasn’t a traditional red and white checkered one you would see in the movies; instead it was green and the print had little yellow bumble bees on it. “This is a really cute blanket, Jin.”

He blushed, setting down the basket on top of the corner before plopping himself down. “Thanks, it’s uh- it’s my go too when I come out here. It’s good for inspiration.”

“Inspiration hmm?” You inquired, sitting down beside him.

“Mhmm, for when I’m painting. This is kinda my go to spot.” He reached into the pack he brought and pulled out two small canvases along with some brushes. “I actually kinda thought we could maybe paint together? If you want to.”

“I would love to paint with you! Though I’ll warn you, mine won’t look even a fraction as good as what you’ll make.”

“Baby, don’t you know? Perfection can only make perfection.” You swooned when he leaned in to kiss you, cupping the side of your face in his big hand. You practically melted into him when he let out a purr of satisfaction. All too soon he pulled away, “ And you, my angel, are the definition of flawless.”

“You can’t say things like that.” You looked down, flustered by his sentiment. There was a distinct fluttering in the pit of your stomach.

“Why not, baby? Don’t you like it?” He was smirking, pulling paints out of the basket next then a covered platter of strawberries.

“I’m anything but perfect Hyunjin.”

“Why would you say that, y/n?” His smile dropped when he saw how serious your statement was. You looked away, trying not to meet his eyes. “Baby, hey, you can talk to me.”

You sniffled, finally meeting his gaze with a teary expression. “You all keep singing my praises, but I feel like all I’ve caused is drama and pain.” He looked like he was about to interject but you continued, “ Drama with my heat, drama with Minho, drama with Seungmin and… Felix. I know he’s hurting, Jinnie. I can feel it. A perfect person wouldn’t have let any of that happen.”

“Oh baby.” He pulled you into his arms, tucking you into his chest. “First of all, the situation with your heat was not your fault. It’s those fucking suppressants fault. Second, Min can be a dick sometimes, it’s a complex he has for not being born an alpha.” He began to pet your head. “ Thirdly, Brynn had it coming, she was a bitch and needed to be brought down to earth. And as far as Felix goes, this whole arrangement made by Chan won’t last forever. His power trip will end soon enough, it always does.”

“I try not to let it get to me, but it’s all piling up inside. There is so much guilt I don’t know what to do with it.” You wiped your eyes of the falling tears.

“I have a feeling that nothing I say is going to be necessarily helpful, but I hope you listen when I say you really are perfect, especially for our family.” Hyunjin pressed more kisses to your head. “If you have feelings you don’t know what to do with, why not try painting it out baby?”

You nodded against him, “ Is that what you do, Hyun?”

“Mmhmm, I find it really helps me get out what I can’t verbally express sometimes.”

You went to remove yourself from his lap and sat across from him, and he began to set up the painting supplies. “I’m not particularly good at art, so you have to promise not to laugh.”

“Baby you know if anyone was going to laugh at you it’s not me.” He chuckled and pat your knee. “And it’s ok if you’re not good, it’s all about expressing yourself.”

He handed you a canvas and you selected your brush, settling the canvas on your knees. You looked around for inspiration. There were a ton of different flowers you could choose from out here in the meadow. You wanted to make something cute, something meaningful.

“Ready, baby?”

You nodded with a smile, dipping your brush in the paint and beginning your masterpiece.

So maybe it wasn’t quite a ‘masterpiece’ but you did your best! It was legible and honestly, that was enough for you. Hyunjin had finished his long before you had, and had opted to admire you while you concentrated. He secretly snapped little photos of you with your eyebrows creased and your tongue poking out just slightly as you worked. It was now his new homescreen on his phone.

You placed the finishing touches on the art and held it up victoriously. “Done!” You only then noticed him lounging peacefully, done with his own. “Damn I didn’t know you were waiting on me, I’m sorry Jin.”

“Not a problem, love. I enjoyed watching my girl.” He sat back up, “ You’re cute when you concentrate on something.”

You looked down shyly, then back at him to see him grinning at how adorable he thought you were. “Just show me what you made.” You mumbled, changing the subject.

He laughed, “You got it, baby.” He grabbed his now almost dry painting, turning it around for you to see it. He had done a beautiful rendition of the meadow you sat in. It was literally picture perfect. It could have been a carbon copy.

“Wow Jinnie, that is incredible!” You leaned closer to look at the details. “How did you accomplish this much in such a short amount of time?!” You were bewildered.

He shrugged, “Eh I come out here a lot. Now show me what you made!”

“Remember, you promised not to laugh.” You pointed an accusatory finger at him, and he dramatically crossed his heart. “Ok, here it is.” You turned your canvas around to reveal what you had created.

It was a picture of a Bee, sitting in a bright purple flower. You had attempted to make a tulip but it came out looking more like a generic flower and the bee looked more like a yellow and black blob.

“Aww baby! It’s so cute!!” He gushed, eyes roaming the picture. “It’s a bee in a flower right?”

“Yeah,” You beamed, happy he knew what it was. “ I wanted to make something fitting for our time out here.” You gestured down to his bee blanket you both sat upon.

“You are too precious, love. I’m gonna hang this up in the living room for all to see!” He reached for your art but you pulled away with a giggle.

“It’s not that good Hyune, not nearly as good as yours. That's the one we should be hanging up, not this silly thing.”

“The only silly thing is your attitude. I know a masterpiece when I see one and this gem is top notch.” It was cute how he tried to hype you up. “Now give it here.”

He lunged for you suddenly, and since you weren’t expecting the ambush it caused you to drop your freshly painted canvas… face side down onto your white dress. You gasped when it fell from your hands onto the front of your dress. “Ahh no!”

“Shit! Baby, I'm sorry!” In his panic he dragged the painting down the front of you when he tried to move himself away, the bright colors smearing across the dress. “Fuck I’m making it worse!”

You looked down at the damage, seeing an array of shaded mixing onto the fabric.

“Hyunjin….” You were too calm for his comfort. He was expecting you to cry. “This is the first time I’ve gotten to wear this dress…” He missed the slow creep of your hand and the way it dipped into the blue paint that was still out.

“I know! First thing when we get back home I’ll scrub it out!” He grabbed a napkin and furiously began to wipe at the stain, deepening it instead.

“Actually, I have a better idea of how you can make it up to me.” You had an evil tone in your voice that made him look up at your face, just as you brought your hand up to smear the blue paint across his cheek.

He gasped and pulled away briskly, his eyes wide in shock at your actions.

You couldn’t help the laugh that escaped you at his shocked expression. “Now we’re even. You look good in blue, Jinnie.”

“So that’s the game we’re playing, huh baby?”

“What?” You asked but were cut off when he flung the still dirty paintbrush at you, yellow paint getting on your arm. “Hyunjin!”

“Don’t dish it if you can't take it!” His laugh was cut off when you grabbed the bottle of red and squirted him with it, the color getting all over his shirt. He retaliated by wiping his hands through the mess on his shirt and lunging for you again, red hands wiping all over your sides.

You attempted to dive out of the way with a squeal, but only ended up laying on the other colors causing them to spill and cover yourself in them. Your hands lathered themselves in the offending paints and you rubbed them on as much of Hyunjin as you could reach.

The whole time both of you were laughing and shrieking as you were both getting covered in the substance. Somehow you got under him completely, and he caged you in. Your thighs were spread and he laid between them. His hair was dripping in purple paint, the color falling into your own hair. You could only imagine how insane you both looked.

“You are a little menace, aren't you?” Hyunjin was catching his breath from laughing so hard.

“You started it!” You protested, swiping his nose again.

He looked down between your bodies, “And now I’m gonna finish it. Looks like we only have one spot left to paint on you, doll.” He giggled and leaned down, capturing your lips with his own. You immediately threw your hands up to his shoulders, pulling him in closer. He let some of his weight fall on you gently, and rolled his hips into your core.

You whimpered against his mouth, and the sound spurred him on to do it again. Hyunjin's body rolled into you a little harsher, relishing in the sounds of enthusiasm that left you in return. You could feel his bulge growing in his pants as he teased it against your clothed core. “Jinnie. Want you.”

He nibbled on your bottom lip for a second, then licked the skin. “Oh yeah, Baby? You missed your Jinnie?”

“Mhm. Missed the way you feel in me.” You couldn’t believe the words that came out of your mouth, the truth in them just spilling out.

“Fuck, gorgeous. The other boys are corrupting you. Turning you all dirty. You don’t even care we’re out here in the open.” His hands moved down to grip your thighs, his hot palms parting them even further as he ground down. “Turns me on so much.”

You were getting wetter by the second, your body reacting to him immensely. You let your hips buck into him as you searched for more friction. “Been too long without you, Jinnie.”

“Mm I know, omega.” He cooed, his fingers sliding up the sides of your thighs and to the hem of your panties. “Been waiting for you too, my love.” He pulled them down your thighs, exposing your glistening center to the outside air. “I can’t use my fingers on you since they are covered in paint. Do you think you could take me without me stretching you out, baby?”

You nodded rapidly. You were so wet you knew you could take him. “Yes Jinnie, I can take you. Can take all of you.”

He groaned as he drug his own pants and underwear down, his member slapping at his stomach from the force. He then bucked his hips up, causing his dick to slide through your folds and wetting his tip.

He went to line himself up to push in when you stopped him, “Wait!” He paused instantly, looking at you with wide eyes and his body rigid like he had done something wrong. “What about umm… protection?”

He visibly relaxed, “Had me scared for a second baby.” He chuckled. “Did you take your birth control yesterday and today?”

“Umm yeah, I did.”

“Then we’re all good. I checked with Channie Hyung earlier and he said since you're on a fast acting prescription I’m allowed to defile you in every way.” He had a smirk on his face.

“Oh.” You gulped, clenching around nothing.

“Though I will admit,” He began as he rubbed himself into you some more, on the precipice of pushing in. “ the idea of cumming on you instead of inside, really does something to me.” You groaned at his words. “Mm you want that, baby? Want me to mark your skin with more than just paint?”

“Yes Jinnie. I want it so much.”

“I’ll give it to you, sweet omega.” He rolled his hips at a perfect angle, sending his full length into you. Your back arched at the intrusion, and you pulled him flush against you. “Ngghh so tight, baby. Still so so tight around me.” You clenched at his sentiment. “Fuck, keep clenching like that and your gonna make me cum too soon.”

Hyunjin set a slow pace as he thrust into you, one of his hands held up one of your thighs and the other was pulling down the top of your dress to expose your bare chest to him. He immediately leaned down to take a nipple into his mouth. He sucked on the bud for a minute then switched to the other one. You hadn’t worn a bra under the dress as it came with cups built in so there was no need. You were mentally high fiving yourself for making that choice.

You let out a loud moan when his dick snapped into you at the perfect angle, hitting the sweet spot within you. When he noticed he found it, he repeated that same motion over and over again. The pleasure was so good you started to shake with the impending orgasm.

Your slick was sloshing out of you with every movement, soaking the paint stained blanket underneath. “Oh my god, baby. I can feel you getting close. Can feel the way your body begs to cum. Let go, baby. Show me that beautiful sight I’ve been craving so much.”

At his permission, the band in your core snapped. You came with a wail of his name, “Hyyyunnjiinnnnnnn oh my god.” and you dug your fingers into the fabric of the shirt he still wore.

When he felt you clamp down on him, Hyunjin knew he was a goner. He stalled his hips for only a moment as he pulled out of you a mere second before releasing his essence onto your folds and lower stomach with a shudder. His eyes zeroed in on the bite marks on your shoulder and he lowered his mouth back to your chest where he laid his own devilish bite to your skin, right above your right breast.

You squirmed from the sensation, his emotions flooding through the bite into you. Though you could feel him break the skin, the pain didn’t come. Hyunjin wore his heart on his sleeve and now you were definitely feeling it. “Jinnie..” He let go of your skin, his breathing hard. “Jinnie, can I bite you now too?”

His eyes shone at your question, and the animal within him growled in response. With no hesitation he ripped down the collar of his shirt and presented himself to you. “I would never want for anything again, if you claimed me as yours, my sweet omega.”

You leaned up and first kissed the skin where his neck and shoulder met, running along it with your tongue before you sunk your teeth into him. Hyunjin twitched and moaned when you claimed him. He could feel how much love you had inside of you and he wanted to drown in it. He considered himself lucky to even be around you, but having the girl of his dreams bite him in return? Now he was just blessed.

You let go of him and licked the wound, stopping it from dripping. He brought himself up to hover above you now as he took in the state of you both. Both of your lips still marred in blood and bodies covered in an array of paint.

“That was insane.” You breathed out once you stopped panting, running your hands along his back.

“That’s how you make me feel, baby. Insane.” He pecked your lips with a gentle smile. Then he sat up and let you sit up as well. “I think we should probably get our shit together. We got a big mess to clean.”

You looked around at the mess you created. “Yeah you’re right. This may not have been our smartest idea.”

He shrugged, “It was fun though, yeah?”

You giggled, “So much fun.” You kissed his lips again, then began to clean up.

It wasn’t until an hour later that you both finally got back to the house. You had hoped to sneak in unnoticed by the rest of the pack, but of course it could never be that easy.

“What the hell happened to you guys?!”

And of course it was Jisung who noticed you both, exclaiming his question loudly for all to hear. The beta was sat outside on the porch with a bowl of ice cream in his lap, spoon hanging out of his mouth.

You cringed when you noticed him sitting there, trying to hide behind Hyunjin- whose face was burning red now. “Nothing, Ji. Pretend this never happened!” Hyunjin tried to shuffle past Jisung but was stopped at the door by Jeongin.

“Woah what the actual fuck did you guys do?!” The young alpha popped his head out of the door, hearing Jisungs initial inquiry.

You groaned from your place behind Hyunjin, stepping out to set a hand on your hip. “We had fun, that’s what happened.” You huffed, trying to hide your pure embarrassment.

Both of the other boys' eyes scoured your figure, taking note of the red hand prints on your upper thighs and the bite mark peeking up from your cleavage, though it was mostly hidden.

“Yeah, looks like you had a ton of fun, baby.” Jisung snickered, throwing his arm up to block the smack coming from Hyunjin.

You crossed your arms and stuck your nose in the air snootily, “Hmpf, laugh all you want. I have paint in places where paint should never be, so if you’ll excuse me I need to shower.” You stomped past the laughing boys, Hyunjin coming in behind you.

“You go on and shower up, love. I’ll take care of this mess.”

“Are you sure, Jinnie? I really don’t mind cleaning up.”

He shook his head, “Nah, I got it. You’re more covered than I am anyways. I’ll catch you in a while, ok?” He pecked your lips when you nodded in agreement. “Love you.”

“Love you Jinnie.” You made your way up the stairs and to your room to get some clothes.

“Is that my omega I hear?” Chans voice flooded your ears when he rounded the corner into your room. “There you are swee- woah baby what happened?” He paused his movements when he saw you.

You smacked your palm to your forehead with a sigh, “That’s everyone's big question. Jinnie and I did a little painting today. And we may have gotten carried away.” You gave him a sheepish grin.

“Uh huh, I can see that.” He approached you and grabbed your hand, spinning you around to see all the damage. “ I always knew you were a work of art, now it’s just been confirmed.”

“Don’t be corny.” You giggled, pulling him into a kiss. “I need to shower. I can feel all this paint drying on my skin.”

“Go hop in baby. I’ll grab you some of my clothes for you to wear.” He patted your butt to send you out of the room.

“Yes sir!” You saluted dramatically and skipped into his room and to his bathroom.

You missed the way he groaned at the title you called him, and the way he cupped his growing bulge through his black sweats. He couldn’t wait to play with you later.

You came back downstairs a while later, freshened up like the paint fight never even happened. Though, the light throb of your most recent claiming bite reminded you it was very much real. It was approaching evening, and you hadn't made breakfast so that means you could finally cook dinner for your pack.

Entering the kitchen you start rifling through the fridge and cabinets looking for what you can make. Luckily you found everything you would need to make pasta and a homemade alfredo sauce. You got to work quickly, feeling in your element as you cooked and prepared. You cut up some chicken as well as some veggies to throw in.

You couldn’t help but to think about what happened with Hyunjin. How he has said Channie gave him the okay to…Cum in you. How he now had permission to do the thing everyone had been so precautious of since Felix defied. You would have to clarify with your alpha later.

You were almost done with everything when you heard footsteps entering the kitchen. You could tell exactly who it was, since you were getting used to each of the boys you were catching on to how they each moved.

“Hey babycakes.” You were right, it was Changbin who came in. He must have smelt the food and come to investigate. “What are you cookin in here, gorgeous? It smells amazing, had me drooling since I pulled up the driveway.”

“Alfredo.” You answered, leaning back into him when he came up behind you. “It was one of my faves growing up. Where did you run off to today?”

He kissed the top of your head and put his hands on your hips. “I hit the gym with a new friend I met the other day at the diner. Next time you should come, baby. Build some muscle in these little arms.” He pinched your arm lightly in jest.

“I’ll think about it.” You hummed, squirming away from him. “ Maybe I’ll get swole enough to kick your ass.” You put your first up mock menacingly, shaking it at him.

Changbin laughed and grabbed your lifted fist, curling his own fingers over it, “Careful there, slugger. These things are already registered weapons.”

You winked, “Don’t you forget it.” You then turned back to your task. “Hey Binnie, can you please grab some plates for me so I can set the table?”

“Absolutely baby.” He got the plates from the cabinet and took them into the dining room. “Don’t worry about setting the table, I got it.” He said when he came back to get cutlery.

“Thank you Bin, that is very helpful.” You smiled at him, making his heart swell and the alpha within him purr.

“Anything for my omega.” He kissed your lips and took a bowl of pasta from your grasp, taking it to the table.

“Mmmm what is goin on in here?” Jisung was the next to come in to investigate, his boba eyes taking in the meal you had prepared.

“Just dinner, Ji. Actually it’s great you're here, can you please alert the rest of the pack that dinner is done and to come down to the table, please?”

“Of course my sweet lover.” He had a sing-songy voice as he skipped away.

It only took a few minutes before all the boys were gathered around the table and all serving up their food (after they all thanked you for making such a delicious meal, of course).

“So what are we thinkin, movie night?” Seungmin looked around at everyone as he suggested it.

Chan nodded, swallowing his last bite. “Yeah a nice night in sounds great. What do you think, my love?”

“Good to me! I just wanna chill tonight, I’m a little tired.” You stood to begin clearing empty plates.

Jeongin snorted, “Yeah I imagine you would be after your messy day with Jinnie.” He had a smirk, and laughed when you tried to pinch him as you picked up his plate.

“Messy? What happened?” Felix was confused, clearly distraught at being kept out of the loop.

Hyunjin rubbed the back of his neck sheepishly, “Ah Baby and I just went on a little picnic date, that's all.”

“Are you suuuuurrrreeeee that’s all that happened Hyung?” The young alpha pressed teasingly. “Are you sure that you both didn’t come back covered in paint from head to toe, looking like you were mauled by a bear?”

“More like a ferret.” Jisung murmured, then broke into giggles when the alpha boy high fived him.

Hyunjin shrugged, though the blush to his cheeks gave away his lack of nonchalance. “What happens in the woods, stays in the woods. Right angel?”

You nodded, “Right Jin.”

“Even so, it sounds like Innie and Ji just signed themselves up for clean up duty. Ain't that right boys?” It was Chan now who said it, raising his brow and looking at the two guys expectantly.

They both sighed and began to clean up the table, knowing it wasn’t worth arguing over. Though it didn’t stop them from mumbling how unjust and unfair it was the whole time.

By the time the sun had completely set you all had gathered in the living room, watching ‘Harry Potter’. You were all starting with the first one and decided to watch at least one out of the series every sunday until all had been watched.

You were cozied up with Chan on the loveseat, with him holding you securely against his chest while you sat in his lap. Jisung was curled up beside you with your legs thrown over his lap. Hyunjin and Jeongin were in front of the loveseat on the floor, leaning back up against it and giving you perfect reach to play with their hair. Minho, Seungmin and Changbin all sat on the bigger sofa together.

That just left Felix in the recliner. Sat alone with a perfect view of you being touchy with the other pack mates. The beta tried to focus on the movie, he really did. And he almost made it all the way through- until he saw Chans hand slide up the side of your thigh to your bare hip and the shirt you wore rode up to show off a sliver of your panties. What he has missed though, was the flicker of the alphas eyes over to the younger boy as he touched you. By that point the need to touch you was eating him alive and he could no longer sit there.

The beta felt himself sniffle subconsciously, then he stood from his place abruptly, drawing attention from everyone else at the sudden movement. “Sorry, I’m not… I gotta go.” Felix apologized and ducked his head, speeding out of the living room.

You shifted like you were going to go after him, but settled back into submission against your alpha; as much as it pained you to do so, you knew you couldn’t help him right now. Chan was pleased with your choice, tilting your chin up to place a delicate kiss to your pouty lips as a reward for learning the lesson.

Everyone's positions in this room did not go unnoticed by the alpha. It seemed like everything fell perfectly into place for Chan when Felix had sat alone on the other side of the room. As he predicted, Hyunjin stood next to Felix to calm him down. Two down.

By the end credits Jisung was falling asleep next to you, his weight leaned on you. Chan was the one to wake him with a poke. “Hannie, I think you better head off to bed. You’re drooling all over the place.”

“Mmnm don’t wanna.” He grumbled in return.

Chan sent a pleading look to Minho on the other couch, the beta sighing then standing and coming over to haul the boy off of you. “Alright, come on Sungie. Let's get you to bed.” Min tried to haul the younger beta up but Jisung defiantly dead weighted himself so he couldn’t be moved. “You are such a child. Bin, can you help me please?”

The alpha came to help, grabbing Jisung up from the loveseat with ease as the younger protested sleepily. Together they took him up to bed (after Ji and Bin gave you good night kisses).

Chan laid a couple kisses on your arm, making you giggle. He then shifted his eyes quickly to Seungmin, hoping the beta would take the hint. Luckily he did. Seungmin stood with an exasperated yawn, “Man I am beat. I’m gonna head up to bed. Jeongin, let’s go.”

The alpha boy looked up confused, “Huh? If you’re tired, why do I have to go to bed?”

Seungmin huffed with an eye roll, “Dude don’t make me spell it out for you. Let’s go. It’s late anyways.” He grabbed Jeongin by his shirt collar and pulled him up with him.

“Fine, fine, hands off you ass!”

Both boys also gave you good night kisses before they went on their way up.

You had wanted to ask him about what Hyunjin said earlier, and now seemed like the only time. “Channie, can I ask you something?”

“Of course, my love. What’s on your mind?”

“Well..” You twiddled with your thumbs nervously. “When I was with Jinnie earlier today, he said you had given your permission to.. Umm.. fuck this is embarrasing. Did you say it was ok to cum in me now since I’m on fast acting birth control?”

He didn’t expect you to come right out with it, his shock making him chuckle. “Yes baby. That was my stipulation to the guys. No filling up my girl until you were on birth control. Luckily we got prescribed a good brand from the Doctor. He gave the okay so I did in return.”

You let out the breath you were holding. “Ok ok, cool. I’m glad I asked. It was killing me not knowing for sure. I mean not that I don’t trust Jinnie, cuz I do, with my life, but sometimes I can’t help but worry and after what happened last time you can never be too sure, right?”

“Baby, you're rambling. It’s ok, thank you for making sure. Good omega.” He petted you tenderly to calm you.

“Should we head to bed too Channie? It is getting late.” You suggested, willfully ignorant to his schemes.

“Nah, I’m not that tired. Wanna watch another movie?” You nodded in response, and went to move off of him now that there was more space to sit. He grabbed you and held you on him, “Where do you think you're going, baby? Didn’t we agree I would get you all to myself?”

“Yes alpha.” You suppressed a laugh at how cute he was. “I do recall something like that.”

“Exactly. Now you're staying right here, where you belong, hm?” He tickled your sides when you didn’t respond this time, making you laugh loudly. “C’m on omega, tell me when you belong.”

“On.. your.. Lap.” You managed to get out between cackles, his fingers only relenting when you answered.

“That’s right baby. Now since you were right, I’ll let you pick the next movie.” He grabbed the remote and handed it to you.

“Can I pick anything I want?”

“Yep, anything for you my love.”

You grinned evilly and typed in the movie you had been itching to watch.

“I can’t believe you’re making me watch ‘Twilight’.”

“You said I could pick whatever I wanted! This is what I want!”

Chan groaned in boredom for what had to be the fifth time since starting the movie. “Is this really what girls are into? Old men who stalk them and tell them they’re his ‘personal brand of heroine’ as if that shit isn’t creepy!”

“Channie, don’t act like what you say isn’t poetic like that too! You are just as bad!” You huffed.

The alpha checked the time on his phone discreetly, noticing it was nearing ten pm. Perfect. “I’ve never considered myself good with words.” He tilted your head slightly and started to kiss your neck. You let out a sigh of content. “ Kinda always thought my romantic talents were laid in other ways.” You whimpered when he gave a harsh suck to your flesh. “Want me to show you, baby?”

“Out-out here in the living room?” You stuttered when his hands started to travel back under your shirt.

“Mmhmm.” He hummed, “It’s my house, I can have you wherever I want.” His rough hands slid up your sides and to your breasts under the shirt. He ran his thumbs across your nipples, toying with the hardened buds. Then an idea popped into his mind. “But you were set on watching this movie… So your gonna watch it.” He suddenly turned your body so you were sitting with your back against his chest, and your front facing the tv. Also facing the entry way into the room.

You gasped when he grabbed your jaw softly and made you watch the tv. “Channie, what…”

“Watch your movie, baby. Alphas got you.” He then tugged your shirt up and over your head, so now you sat there almost naked other than your panties. “Mm so pretty. Look at all these pretty marks on you, omega.” He sloppily kissed each one, at the same time he resumed his playing with your nipple with one hand. The other was toying with the hem of your panties.

You let out a quiet whimper when he tugged on the bud. Trying to focus on the movie was becoming a nearly impossible task. You could vaguely register what was happening, it appeared to be the baseball scene. Then he tugged harder. You couldn’t help the light grind of your hips at the sensation. Having his hands on you made you instantly wet, the slick accumulating quickly from your core. Your body naturally reacted to him this way, he could look at you a certain way and it could get you going. (A fact you would never share with him, less you feed his ego even more)

“Can smell you, ‘mega. You're leaking such a delicious scent.” He nosed your skin as he was totally engulfed in the aroma. It was so thick and syrupy, he was sure it was starting to drip from the walls. At his words you ground down again, feeling his thickness under your ass. “Are you getting impatient, baby? “

“Mmhmm” You only hummed in return.

He cooed, “ok baby, Alpha will play with his baby.” With lithe fingers he slowly pulled your panties down your hips and off your thighs, leaving you now completely naked on his lap. A string of arousal followed the fabric as they fell to the floor, Chan groaning at the sight. “Fuck love, is that all for me?”

“Uh huh. For you Channie.” You nodded rapidly, moaning when those same fingers ran their tips along your folds. Chan used his knees to separate your legs even further, putting your center on full display. He collected the slick that was dripping out of you, and brought the digits up to slowly circle your clit. You threw your head back onto his shoulder and shut your eyes at the feeling. You both could tell you were quickly falling into subspace, letting Chan take care of you completely.

In fact you were becoming so out of it, that you missed the sound of footsteps coming down the hall closer to the living room, and stopping before the threshold. Chan, though, did not.

“Come on out, Lix.”

Felix was coming back down for his nightly vitamin he takes every night at ten pm. He keeps it in the kitchen so he can also grab some water before bed. It was his daily routine. One he never missed. What he didn’t expect was to be bombarded with the thick scent he would know anywhere by now, and the enticing sounds of your little moans. He halted his movements in the hall, eyes wide and his hands suddenly twitching. He was going to turn back around and hightail it back to his room, but then Chan called to him.

Fuck.

Your eyes shot open as Felix slowly, and stiffly shuffled into the living room. “Lix? What-?” You went to cover yourself with your hands but Chan stopped you.

“Aww don’t be shy now, baby. It’s nothing Lixie hasn’t seen before, right Lix?” Chan continued rubbing at the bundle between your legs, now with more vigor and you couldn’t stop the moan. Felix merely nodded, his eyes shadowed in both lust and wanting. The twitching in his fingers got worse as soon as he raked his gaze over your spread pussy. “Doesn’t she look so pretty like this, all spread open and squirming?” Chans eyes were dark and his tone had a menace to it that was hard to place, it had both you and Felix whimpering.

“So pretty.. The prettiest girl in the universe.” Felix mumbled out, unable to take his eyes from the way your hole clenched at his words.

“Nggh Lix…” You whined subconsciously, hips bucking into Chans hand for more friction. Chan never took his eyes off Felix as he nipped on your neck.

“I can’t take this.” Felix’s statement came out as a pained whisper.

“Hmm? What was that Felix?” Chan asked, acting uninterested, and inserting a finger inside now making you groan louder.

“I… I can’t take this anymore, Hyung.” Tears sprung to the betas eyes. “This is torture- worse than torture. Not being able to touch the woman I love, while everyone else gets to as much as they please, it’s so painful Chris.”

“You want your punishment to end? You want to touch this beautiful omega?” Chan used his other hand to grab the front of your throat, pulling your body even closer to his chest, not squeezing; just holding. A dangerous reminder that he was in charge.

Felix nodded lively, mouth gaping at the sight “ Yes I’ll do anything.”

“Beg me.”

Before Felix even registered the demand, you started wailing “Please alpha please I need him.”

Chan laid a quick slap to your pussy, relishing in your hiss at the contact. You tried to snap your legs closed but Chan held them open as you shook. “Hush omega, you’ve begged enough. The men are talking. Go on Felix.” His fingers resumed their thrusting into your hole.

Felix locked eyes with Chans dark intimidating stare, and he theatrically lowered himself to his knees, clasping his hands together.

“Chan, Alpha, I am begging you, please, please, don’t keep her from me anymore. I’ve learned not to defy you again. Please Hyung.” Felix was hiccuping through his tears as he begged.

“Look at him, Omega. Down on his knees begging for even a taste of you. Begging for the saccharine sweetness that pours from you, the nectar only I can provide. Should I let him? Should alpha be merciful and give him what he needs, baby?

“Yes Alpha. Please.” you responded right away.

“You want her? You want her pussy?” Chan asked rhetorically, chuckling when the beta nodded and cried. “Come show her how much you missed her. Your punishment is over.”

Immediately you were swarmed by Felix, the beta wasting no time at all to latch his mouth over your dripping center, his tongue finding your clit with ease. His hands went to your thighs as he ground his face into you, wanting you as close as he can possibly get. Felix dug his fingers brutally into your skin, as if he was scared you would slip through his hands again. Chan removed his fingers from inside you and put them back onto your breasts, pinching your nipples.

“Fuck, oh my god, Lixie.” Now it was you who was crying, putting your hands into his hair and gripping the strands tightly. He moaned into you when you grabbed his hair, causing vibrations to travel from his mouth into you. You were already so close to your high at that point, that when he suckled your clit into his mouth with a harsh suck, you absolutely lost it and the band inside of you snapped. “Ngghhhh Lixie, Channie, ohmygoooooooood ‘m cumming, mmmmggghh.”

The tears never stopped falling from your eyes; the emotions inside of you being so intense it’s like a dam broke. This was the most emotional orgasm you’ve ever had. You were shaking and sobbing against Chan as Felix continued to eat you out, never relenting for even a second. The betas eyes were fluttering at the taste of you, becoming drunk on your slick. You were becoming overstimulated with the constant pleasure so you tried pulling up Felix's head. After a moment he lifted his face from you, gazing at you with intense lust in his blown out eyes and your slick covering his face.

“Mm good girl, such a good omega for us, huh? Wanna keep being a good little girl for us, baby?” Chan questioned while kissing your shoulders. His voice was getting rougher by the second, as he himself was being overcome with both lust and power.

“Uh huh, wanna be good for you both.” You pet the side of Felix's face affectionately. You had missed being close enough to appreciate his darling freckles. He preened at your touch, nuzzling into your hand.

Chan removed his hands from your chest, “Go ahead and get on the floor for me, baby. On all fours.” He helped you off his lap and to the floor to join Felix. Luckily the blankets that were laid out from the movie night were still here so you weren’t on the bare ground. You settled yourself as he requested, and he groaned from behind you. The alpha got up from his place on the love seat and onto his knees right behind you. “That’s a good girl, present yourself to your alpha.” He delivered a quick slap to one of your ass cheeks, admiring the slight jiggle of the flesh.

You yelped at the sting, “Alpha!”

“You can take it. I bet my spanks aren’t half as bad as Minnies, hmm?” He jeered with a snicker. He peered over at the beta, who by this point was rubbing his dick through his pj pants and biting his lip. “ I think our Lixie is feeling a little neglected, huh baby? He's waited so patiently for you.” Chan asked, leaning over to rub his sweatpants clad crotch against your ass.

“Yeah, alpha. Wan’ make him feel good too. Wan’ him in my mouth.” You mumbled through your whines, craving to be filled one way or another.

“Fuck,” Lix cursed, gripping himself tighter when you said that.

Chan chuckled, “Seems like he wants that too. What do ya say, Lix? Want her mouth?”

“Fuck, more than anything.” The beta replied hastily.

“Alright then,” Chan pulled down his bottoms, just enough for his member to be out. The tip was red and leaking pre cum, he had clearly been horned up for a while. He rubbed the tip through your folds, wetting his length easily with the great amount of slick you’ve created. “Go ahead Lixie, give her what she wants.”

Felix wasted no time in shoving his pjs down his thighs, finally feeling a little relief at no longer being confined. He came to stand in front of you, but before you could take him into your mouth he leaned down and gave you a devastatingly emotional kiss. He groaned low into your mouth, missing the way your lips tasted and felt. It made him start to tear up again. “Missed you so fucking much, baby. ‘M never gonna lose you again.” He whispered against your lips.

“Missed you too Lix- AH” Your sentiment was cut off by Chan pushing his length into you. You arched your back at the intrusion and dug your fingers into the fabric below you. The stretch of taking your alpha was immeasurable. “Shit, so big alpha.” Chan growled approvingly when you said that. You tried to refocus on Felix the best you could, though your mind was slipping further and further away with each thrust of Chans hips. “In my mouth, pl-ease, nee’ it.”

Felix took a small step back and positioned himself in front of your face, holding his tip a few inches from you. “Here you go, lovey. You can have it.” Your mouth fell open and you stuck your tongue out, licking the flushed tip and tasting his precum. You suckled on it for a second, then a particularly hard thrust from Chan caused you to take Felix completely into your mouth and down your throat, making you gag. The beta immediately threw his head back in pleasure, “Ffffucking christ oh shit. God, so warm and wet.”

Tears sprung to your lash line when Felix hit the back of your throat. Little ‘mmpfs’ sounds were leaving you from the rutting into your core, that quickly turned into gurgly muffled moans when Chan found your sensitive spot inside of you. Your thighs were covered in slick and it was wetting the alphas bottoms. He was letting out deep, raspy grunts each time he bottomed out. His hands gripped harshly onto your hips to keep you in place, as Felix began thrusting gently into you.

Felix ran his hand down your throat, feeling his length inside through your own skin. He gasped at the pressure he has created. He didn’t want to over stimulate you with double choking though, so he left it at that for now.

The beta held your cheeks with his palms as he wiped your tears, looking into your eyes with his glassy ones as if asking for permission to take you. You answered by sucking intensely on his member. That was what he needed, and he began to shakily fuck your mouth.

“I wish you could see how magnificent you are right now, omega.” Chans voice was gruff and raspy. “So fucking perfect the way you take us. Fuck, most perfect omega in the world.”

Perfect.

There's that word again. That's the second time today you had been called it, but honestly, right now as you float through subspace, you would believe literally anything they told you. You were so far gone and delirious you just moaned in agreement.

The corners of your lips were leaking drool, both areas of entry being so wet there was a loud sloshing sound that filled the entire room. The only other time you had been this soaked was on your heat.

Chan brought his fingers around your body and found your clit again. Your eyes rolled into the back of your head when he began to circle the nub. You were already so sensitive that it only took a few swipes of his fingers before you were orgasming. Your body began to spasm in pleasure and your wails increased, the vibrations shooting straight into Felix's dick.

“Fuck ‘m gonna cum oh FUCCKK” The beta gripped your face and held you steady while he shot hot ropes of cum down your throat. He let go of your face once his shaking stopped, pulling out of your mouth swiftly. “So good, baby. Your mouth is magical.” He went to wipe the cum and drool that was on your face but he didn’t get the chance.

As soon as Felix pulled out of your mouth, Chan used one of his hands to push your head down into the blankets below. The change made your hips raise slightly and your back arch even more, letting the Alpha drive into you even further. “There we go, fuck sweet girl your even tighter like this, goddamn.” He was unrelenting in his powerful plunging into you. “Love you so so much, my baby, my omega.”

“Alpha, love youuuu.” You clenched at the way he said your presentation. He always made it sound so dirty. You loved it.

Your clenching on him was what he needed, the tightening threw him completely overboard. He growled deeply, the sound was a menacing rumble that emerged from the back of his throat. He shot thick ropes of his cum deep inside you. His knot inflated at the base and locked the two of you together. He rocked his hips a little more as he finished, the last few drops entering you.

For a second, all of you were silent - except for the collective panting as you all came down. You could feel Felix stroke your hair softly as Chan ran his hands comfortingly up and down your spine. Your face was still buried in the blankets below you, mouth open and breathing hard.

“Did so, so good for us Omega. Love you so much.” Chan began whispering praises as his knot started to deflate. Felix was now sitting on the ground and pulling your head up to rest in his lap. He wiped your tears and cooed about how much he loves you.

Chan was ecstatic, the night fell into place exactly as he wanted it too. Well, for the most part… There was one thing he didn’t account for.

That was a certain youngest Alpha who came down for a late night snack and stumbled upon the scene in the living room….

All three of you were so caught up in each other that no one noticed Jeongin walk in mid act. And not a single one of them could predict it accidently sending the alpha boy into an early rut..

Oops.

A/N: I know, I know it's a little late.... Unfortunately going forward this series will probably be updated bi weekly instead of weekly :'( i will be working a lot more in preparation for festival season! (Anyone going to edclv this year? 👀👀👀💃🏻)

Also, before anyone says it, yes i know thats not how birth control works,,,, it's a made up universe with made up rules :)

Comments and reblogs are very much appreciated!

Also if any one wants to chat about the story or share predictions please send me an ask!!

Beta read by my loves @ayejaii and @jehhskz <3

©doitforbangchan

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fuckyeahgoodomens · 8 months

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Link 1, Link 2 :)

Digital Good Omens 2 Sountrack is coming out in 4 days! 🥳 CD version in October! :) ❤ Coming soon on vinyl…

Out to Stream/Download from 25th August. Out on CD 13th October. Coming soon on vinyl…

David Arnold’s ‘end of the world’ complex and multi-genre soundtrack.

From the Award-winning composer of Sherlock and Casino Royale comes a follow up to the hugely successful, Emmy nominated Good Omens soundtrack.

Good Omens series 2 premiered on Prime Video on 28th July. The series follows the odd couple, angel Aziraphale (Michael Sheen) and demon Crowley (David Tennant) in their quest to sabotage the end of the World. The six-episode sequel to the popular adaptation of the novel by Neil Gaiman and Terry Pratchett, concerns the Archangel Gabriel (Jon Hamm) arriving without his memories to Aziraphale’s bookshop. Aziraphale and Crowley attempt to find out what happened to Gabriel, whilst hiding him from Heaven and Hell, both eager to find him.

The Soundtrack

David Arnold’s soundtrack to Good Omens was first released in 2019 to favourable reviews, with BBC Music Magazine calling it “a rollicking trip to hell and back”. Blueprint Magazine described it as “a great listen” and Sci Fi Bulletin commented on “plenty of memorable themes” to conclude that “This is another work of art from Arnold”. At times nostalgic and eerie but always varied, beautiful and full of excitement, the Good Omens 2 soundtrack showcases Arnold’s every skill from his composer arsenal. Featured here are orchestral arrangements with sprinkling of Sugar Plum Fairy pizzicato and percussion, jaunty strings and mighty choral sweeps from Crouch End Festival Chorus. Added to the mix are rock guitar riffs, and psychedelic 70s sounds and all together they create a haunting otherworldly feel, complementing the fantasy and the quirky humour of the show. The spirited Waltz of the opening theme is also present in the second series and it wonderfully sets the scene for fantastical mayhem. In series 2, this robust, evocative, and funny music entity, becomes yet again another character in the story. Award-winning composer David Arnold is well known for his blockbuster scores, including Stargate, The Chronicles of Narnia: the Voyage of the Dawn Treader, Hot Fuzz, Paul, Independence Day, 2 Fast 2 Furious and Casino Royale as well as for his TV work such as Sherlock and Dracula. Also available: The original soundtrack to the first series of Good Omens >

Tracklist

– Disc 1 – Chapter 1: The Arrival 1. Before the Beginning 2. Good Omens 2 Opening Title 3. Into Soho 4. Something Terrible 5. To The Bookshop 6. Maggie and Nina 7. He’s Smoking 8. Tiny Miracle 9. Heavenly Alarm Bells Chapter 2: The Clue 10. Avaunt! 11. The Song is the Clue 12. It’s What God Wants 13. A Mighty Wind 14. Whales 15. Gabriel Returns 16. His New Children 17. Am I Awful Now? 18. Fallen Angel Chapter 3: I Know Where I’m Going 19. Police Arrive 20. Scotland 21. We’re Going to Hell 22. People Get a Choice 23. My Car is Not Yellow 24. Beelzebub in Hell 25. The Book 26. The Fly 27. Mr. Dalrymple 28. We Need to Cut 29. I’m Going to Save Her 30. Crowley Goes Large 31. Not Kind 32. Beelzebub Isn’t Happy – Disc 2 – Chapter 4: The Hitchhiker 33. Hell-O 34. Nazi Zombies 35. March of the Nazi Zombies 36. Crowley Pep Talk 37. The Magic Shop 38. Catch The Bullet 39. Zombies in the Dressing Room Chapter 5: The Ball 40. I’ll Let You Have It 41. We’re Storming a Book Shop 42. Monsieur Azirophale 43. The Candelabra 44. Here Comes Hell 45. Gabriel Gives Himself Up 46. Shax 47. The Circle Chapter 6: Every Day 48. Bin Through the Window 49. Gabriel Leaving Heaven 50. The Halo 51. Gabriel Revealed 52. Gabriel’s Love Story 53. Leaving The Bookshop 54. Gabriel and Beelzebub 55. Crowley and Muriel 56. I Forgive You 57. Don’t Bother 58. The Biggest Decision 59. The End?

#good omens #gos2 #season 2 #GOS2Spoilers #good omens spoilers #music #s2 music #david g arnold #s2 soundtrack #wahoo!#shut up and take my money :D

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kamiversee · 25 days

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➶-͙˚ ༘✶ 𝙏𝙃𝙀 𝙁*𝘾𝙆 𝙇𝙄𝙎𝙏

✧.* CHAPTER 56 || The Official End

[ { SYPNOSIS } ] ➤ A tale in which Gojo Satoru blackmails you into seducing a list of people to clear his debt. Sounds easy enough, right?

[ { CHAPTER CONTENT } ] ➤ language, fluff, & semi-angst.

[ { A/N } ] ➤ This is the last chapter.

[ { WORD COUNT } ] ➤ 6.4k

[ { PAIRINGS } ] ➤ jjk men x f!reader. gojo x f!reader. geto x f!reader. toji x f!reader. choso x f!reader. sukuna x f!reader. nanami x f!reader.

[ [ chapters mlist } ]

——AS FOR THE MAN WHO lost in the game of winning your heart, Gojo Satoru patiently waited day by day for that fateful phone call of yours. He wasn’t sure when it would be but he knew you’d call sooner or later.

The journal had to be burned. He needed to make sure it was, promising to himself that burning it would be burning the horrid things he put you through. It’d be the death of something so very toxic and would leave the two of you truly free from the list. That, and Gojo saw burning the list with you as his way of finally letting you go.

So, patiently, he waited. Every day he’d check his phone to see if your contact name would appear across his screen, his heart aching for the inevitable. Gojo was lost in a space of wanting that day to come as soon as possible and also wanting you to take your time to get to that point.

At the end of the day, burning the journal was your way of letting him go too. You needed to burn it with him just as much as he needed to burn it with you. Whatever it was that still floated in the air between the two of you needed to die along with the cursed words written upon those pages in your journal.

If not, other things, such as your relationship with your boyfriend Choso would soon crumble if truths he never wanted to know were revealed to him.

So yes, the end was near— closer than anticipated, and only you and Gojo knew that.

.　 . • ☆ . ° .• °:. *₊ ° . ☆ .　 . • ☆ . ° .• °:. *₊ ° . ☆

Which is exactly why you took your sweet time in calling him.

Not days and not weeks did you wait but two months. From the day you started dating Choso, you tried to put all thoughts of Gojo in the back of your head, only ever thinking about him whenever you remembered you had a book to burn.

Sometimes you’d look at your phone and debate on calling him to plan the whole burning process out but ultimately, the sound of your boyfriend saying something would pull you away from those thoughts.

A perfect example would be currently as you stood in Choso’s apartment on a Sunday morning in his kitchen, attempting to prepare some kind of breakfast as he slept in his bedroom. The two-month mark of your relationship with him was nearing and things couldn’t be better.

If you weren’t able to see him throughout the week because of school, either of you always found a way to be with each other by the weekend. Most times it was at his place since you had a roommate and by now, you’d practically moved in with the man.

Not that he minded of course. What better to wake up to than you in his arms? Or what could top noticing your feminine products begin to take permanent place in his bathroom? Then there was the occasional time he’d find your clothes with his as he went to do laundry.

He loved every moment he realized you were starting to take over his apartment day by day.

So today, when he gets a strong waft of pancakes swirling into his nose, he wakes up smiling because he knows it’s you in his kitchen. Choso’s eyes cracked open and he let out a heavy yawn, his arms and legs stretching out as he woke himself up some more. Despite knowing you were in the kitchen, he did prefer waking up to your body heat against his and you pressed into him.

He doesn’t know if you’re aware but you’re more clingy than he is when you’re asleep. Throughout the night, Choso would sometimes wake up to drink a bottle of water but the very second he shifts away from you, you’re tugging him back and grumbling something in your sleep with this cute little pout on your face.

God, Choso was so in love with you. Everything you did made his heart race. Every laugh shared, every lingering touch, every joyful glint in your eyes— you were the embodiment of perfection in his eyes. Never would he view a woman in the same light he views you. And to think you’re his girlfriend? What did he do to deserve you?

These are the kinda’ thoughts he has nearly every morning, today more so than others. Because just why are you out in the kitchen humming to You Rock My World by Micheal Jackson and cooking up a storm of breakfast with not a care in the world?

Choso’s getting out of bed without a second thought, rushing into the bathroom to brush his teeth and cleanse his face before heading out to you. As he walked down his hallway, the sound of music grew louder and louder until he was near his kitchen.

Then there was you. Oh the sigh of joy he lets out at the sight of you is so lovestruck. Your back was to him and you had a spatula in your hand, clearly making eggs as your hips swayed from side to side along with the music playing and sweet little hums left your lips along with the tune.

Choso couldn’t help but smile, wondering if you knew that you really did rock his world just as the song was saying. His head is nodding along to the music before he realizes and he begins to smoothly make his way over to you.

You’re so wrapped up in your cooking and vibing to the music that you don’t even realize Choso is approaching until his hands slide onto your waist. You inhale sharply in reaction, jumping only a little in shock before you turn your head back to look at him.

“Mornin’ baby,” Choso hums with a happy little smile on his face. His morning voice gives you butterflies and you flash him a smile before he leans in and presses his lips to yours.

“Mh, Good morning, Cho,” You reply, “You weren’t supposed to wake up yet y’know…” You say suddenly as you turn back to the eggs you had cooking on the stove, “I wanted to surprise you.”

Choso chuckles and he’s behind you dancing slightly to the sound of Micheal Jackson’s voice, “Should’ve closed the room door then,” He responds, “I’m a simple man y’know— I smell pancakes, I come running.”

You giggle at his words and feel his hands slide down to your hips as the two of you sway slightly against one another. He starts humming to the song and seems to be enjoying himself as he dances against you and watches you finish your breakfast preparation.

An intrusive thought comes to him and he’s speaking before he thinks it through, “Y’know, you’d make a good housewife baby,” Choso says suddenly.

You begin to plate all the food you’ve cooked and raise a brow at his words, “Would I really?”

“Yeah-, sorry, is that weird to say?” He asks curiously, tilting his head a bit before sneaking up a piece of bacon into his mouth.

You send him a look because of him eating despite you not being finished and then roll your eyes at him teasingly, “No, it’s not a weird thing to say. But y’know, in order for me to be a housewife I’d want two things,” You claim before stepping back a little to reach into one of the drawers for utensils.

Choso hums, “Yeah? And what’s that?”

“One,” You turn to him with a telling look, “A ring on my finger,” You explain.

He nods with a smile on his face, “Obviously. And two?”

“A man who’ll do everything I don’t,” You say vaguely, “Y’know, like pay for whatever I may need since I wouldn’t have a job, and basically-“

“Take care of you?” He interrupts unintentionally, “So for you to be a housewife, you needa’ man to take care of ya’?”

You shake your head, “Not need, Choso, want.” You correct, “I could easily provide for myself and just get a job but,” You find the utensils you were looking for and place them with the plates of food before turning back to look at your boyfriend, “If a certain someone wants to make me a housewife, he better come with those two things.”

The man laughs at your words and then throws his hands up defensively, “Hey, I didn’t say I wanted to make you a housewife. I want you to do whatever makes you happy.” He explains, shrugging a little, “And I was jus’ pointing it out that you’d be a good housewife,” Choso leans a little closer to you, “If that’s what you choose to be.”

“Uhuh,” You hum casually before slipping away from Choso’s grasp with two plates in your hands, “Well, isn’t it too early to talk about that kinda’ thing anyway?” You ask as you place both plates down on the coffee table in the closeby living room.

Choso’s over in his fridge now, swiping up something to drink for the both of you, “Mmmmh, too early to talk about marriage?”

“Yeah,” You chuckle, “It’s only been a month, so-“

“Two months baby, this Friday it’ll be two months,” Choso corrects as he exits the fridge with your favorite drink in hand, “And it’s never too early to talk about marriage— that’s what people date for, no?”

“I mean, yes but…” You shrug, “I dunno…”

Choso quirks a curious brow and starts to walk over to you while you’re moving used dishes into the sink. He stops you from moving by wrapping his arms around your waist and popping his head over your shoulder.

“Baby, are you dating me for some other reason?” He asks.

You blink, “Hm? What do you mean?”

“I mean like… Y’know I’m dating you to hopefully marry you one day, right?” Choso questions.

“Oh, well… I just don’t really think about marriage, Cho.” You explain with a sheepish shrug, “I’m dating you because I fell in love with you,” Turning your head to look up at him, “Is that okay Mr. Kamo?”

Choso smiles, “Yeah that’s jus’ fine, Mrs. Kamo,” He murmurs playfully.

Your entire face flushes in heat and your eyes widen, “Ohh, do nottt call me that.”

Your boyfriend smiles, “Why? Should I be calling some other woman ‘Mrs. Kamo’?”

“Well, no,” You answer, brows tensing and lips poking out to a pout.

“Alright then, if you’re gonna call me mister anything then I’m gonna call you the accompanying missus,” Choso tells you cheerfully.

You stare for a moment and his smile deepens before you roll your eyes and look away, “Whatever, Choso.”

“Ohhh, now it’s back to Choso?” He taunts, moving to your ear, “I kinda’ liked Mr. Kamo, y’know.”

“Did you?” You ask in return, smiling a little.

“Mhm,” Choso hums, “But you can only call me that if you let me call you Mrs. Kamo,” He tells you.

You giggle, “I dunno if I’ll let you call me that but it does have a nice ring to it…”

Oh his heart swells at those words, his smile getting impossibly wider as he gushes, “Yeah? Y’like the sound of that title?”

You nod a little, “Mhm, it’s cute, I guess…”

“Ohhh baby don’t tease me like thatttt,” Choso whines, dropping his head to the crook of your neck and starting to kiss you, “Either you like the sound of my last name being yours or you don’t…”

You chuckle at both his words and the way he starts kissing your neck so sweetly, lips locking with the area that always makes you squirm in his grasp, “I do like the sound of it, Cho-, love it, but,” You suddenly turn around to him and he pulls his head away from his neck, “It’s too soon to be talkin’ about this kinda thing.”

“It’s not,” He shrugs, “I didn’t say hey let’s get married tomorrow or in a few weeks,” Choso explains through a chuckle, “I just said that I’m dating you to eventually do so. That could be years from now but I do want you to know I’m thinkin’ about it from time to time.”

You stare up into those pretty brown eyes of his, your hands rising to his face and moving to squish his cheeks, “Right, so is this your form of reassurance?”

“Mhm, I love you so much, princess and I hope to get down on one knee and propose to you one day in the future when we’re both ready,” Choso proclaims.

The smile that spreads across your face only deepens that loving emotion Choso has for you. “Aww, how romantic.”

He pouts, “S’that all I get in response?” Choso mumbles tauntingly.

You scoff, “Oh yeah you’re pretty great too.”

“Baby,” He frowns.

With a roll of your eyes and a giggle, your arms wrap around his neck and you lean closer to him, “I love you even more, Choso.” You say before kissing the tip of his nose, “You’re my happiness, my reason to smile, my peace,” Your lips move to his cheek and then they ghost his lips, “My everything. I hope we stay happy and get married one day too.”

His face is red as if he didn’t just request that you say all that to him. Swallowing hard, “Much better,” Choso teases.

“Shut up,” You snicker before kissing him.

It’s a passionate one with Choso leaning into you and his arms holding you tightly as your lips slide over one another, your tongue soon pushing into his mouth and earning a hum from him. Choso’s lips twitch into a half-smile mid-kiss and he steps forward with you, causing your lower back to hit the counter.

His tongue slips over yours and he maneuvers his way into your mouth, one of his hands sliding down to smack and then grab your ass, the contact making you jump.

“Choso-,” You gasp in between his lips, “Food’s gonna get cold,” You mumble against him.

Choso’s hand squeezes your ass and he tilts his head, slightly ignoring what you just said and kissing you more aggressively. You unintentionally moan when both his hands grab your ass and he smacks it yet again, clearly having a thing for playing with your ass.

“Cho,” You whine against him.

He pulls away from your mouth with a bit of saliva sticking to his lips, “Hm? Yes baby?”

“Our food is gonna get cold,” You whisper.

Choso nods, “I know but, we can warm it back up,” He says before suddenly dipping down and then lifting you up onto the counter.

You shake your head, “Nope, we’re not doing this again.”

“Not doing whattttt?” Choso drags out innocently as he parts your legs so that he can stand in between them.

“You can’t keep eating me out and calling it breakfast Choso,” You say sternly, referring to the past few occurrences this has happened with him, “I made you real food for a reason.”

Your boyfriend laughs and tips his head to the side, “Is your pussy not real food?”

“No, dummy, it’s not,” You tell him, tone playful.

Choso rolls his eyes, “Fills me up perfectly fine tho’,” His hands slide down to your outer thighs and he drops to kiss your neck again, “I won’t take long, I promise.”

“But I made you breakfast and if you don’t eat it I’ll be sad,” You murmur to the man, your words making him freeze all movement.

Slowly, Choso lifts his head from your neck and his eyes meet yours, “Seriously?” He asks curiously, a hint of worry in his voice.

You nod, “I told you I wanted to surprise you…”

Choso nods his head understandingly, “Alright, alright, my bad baby, I’ll eat you out some other time then. Let’s go have breakfast together like you wanted to, yeah?”

A cute smile grows on your face and the worry he had instantly fades. He carefully pulls you off the counter and gives your forehead one last kiss before you take his hand and drag him over to his living room.

There was some show the two of you had recently been watching together so you wanted to do that as you ate. Quickly seating yourselves and putting it on to enjoy a cute little breakfast together.

It was wonderful. Such a nice couple's moment shared with one another that would forever live inside your head. With a bunch of laughter and silly little comments shared between each other, you and Choso spent a great day together.

.　 . • ☆ . ° .• °:. *₊ ° . ☆ .　 . • ☆ . ° .• °:. *₊ ° . ☆

Sometime later throughout the week, there was this feeling you got in your heart— a feeling as though there were doors still open that needed to be shut.

The doors in question were ones that led to halls of feelings and memories with Gojo Satoru.

This all spurred on Tuesday when you were cleaning your bedroom and came across that locked drawer of yours, the journal lying idly inside. Choso was lying on your bed, taking goofy pictures of himself on your phone and not paying attention to what you were doing at all.

If you were going to see Gojo again, you should tell your boyfriend, right?

Turning to him, you see him messing with the point five option on your camera and you laugh at him, earning his flustered gaze of being caught as he tossed your phone down.

“You didn’t see that, right?” Choso mumbles to you.

You’re snickering, “I did. You’re so unserious and I love it.”

He flops his head down into your pillows and groans, “Well my girlfriend’s not showing me any attention so I had to distract myself with something.”

“Oh? Is my boyfriend feeling needy for me now?” You say suggestively.

“Yes,” Choso hums, voice muffled by the pillows.

You sigh and stand up, walking over to him before plopping down on your bed beside him, “Well, that’s perfect timing because there’s something I wanna talk to you about.”

His head pops up like an excited little puppy and Choso’s eyes are wide on yours, eager to hear anything you have to say to him, “Yeah? What’s up?”

“Well, it’s somewhat of a serious conversation…” You hum nervously.

He tilts his head for a moment and then moves to sit normally, “What is it, baby?”

Taking a deep breath, you try to remember that Choso’s rather open to anything you have to say so there’s no reason to be nervous, “Okay uh, remember that other guy I told you about…”

“My competition? The one who got you that necklace on Christmas?” Choso asks for clarification.

You nod, “Mhm. Well, it’s about him.”

“Okay…” Choso says, awaiting your explanation.

“I have to see him,” You explain bluntly.

He blinks, “For…?”

“There’s… There’s this-, this thing we had together…”

“You’re not secretly the mother of his child are you?” Choso blurts out teasingly.

You snort, “No!”

Choso chuckles, “Okay, okay, so what’s the thing?”

“Uhm, it’s a journal…” You murmur timidly.

Your boyfriend tilts his head and raises a brow, “Of?”

“Memories.” You answer.

He nods, “Uhuh…”

“Memories that he and I promised to burn together.”

“Ohhh,” Choso’s brows raise and then he nods again, “That’s uh, that actually sounds rather peaceful.”

“Does it?”

“Mhm, sounds like a good way to let someone go,” Choso comments, “Why’d you feel the need to tell me?”

Your brows pinch together. Why wouldn’t you tell him? “Because you’re my boyfriend?” You say in an obvious tone.

Choso blinks, “So?”

“I-I dunno I just thought you should know!”

“I appreciate that but, I trust you.” He laughs a bit, not seeing why you got so serious over this topic, “You don’t have to tell me every little thing you’re gonna do with some guy.”

“Even though he could be considered an ex-lover?” You question.

“You’re going to completely end things with him, I think I’d be fine if you told me after the fact or not at all,” Choso claims with a shrug, “But since you did tell me, when are you gonna go do this?”

“I’m thinking tomorrow…” You explain your thought process on the matter and he nods along with you.

Then, another brow rose, “Why tomorrow? Is it some important day?”

“Well…” Your gaze drops to your lap for a moment as you think back, “Tomorrow’s Wednesday.”

“Okay…”

“It… His complicated relationship with me started on a Wednesday.” You explain.

Choso coos, “And you wanna end it on a Wednesday?”

“Mhm…” You hum.

“Alright,” He shrugs yet again, feeling so very casual about this, “Do I need to do anything or…?”

“No, I just wanted to let you know.”

He nods, “Okay, thanks for telling me.” He says with a pleased grin on his face.

And that conversation pretty much ends there— just like that. You had to blink a few times to make sure this was real because you’re still trying to get used to problems or confusion getting solved and cleared up so quickly.

That was so much easier than you thought it was going to be.

Which is exactly why after that, Choso asks if you were gonna call the other guy and you told him you would sooner or later— to which your boyfriend insisted that you call him ASAP.

Then, before you could argue him down, Choso got up and said he’d give you space to make that phone call. He studies your body language and facial expressions all the time so he could tell that this was the kinda thing he needed to push you to do or else it would never get done.

And with that, Choso left you in your room.

.　 . • ☆ . ° .• °:. *₊ ° . ☆ .　 . • ☆ . ° .• °:. *₊ ° . ☆

It was hard to make that phone call.

Like, really hard. Even once the call was made, hearing Gojo’s voice after so long made your heart ache. You don’t know if he realized it but he sounded so much more at peace over the phone.

The last time you spoke to him, he seemed anxious and ready for something bad to happen but this time, Gojo sounded so relaxed and at ease. It seemed as though his heart had gotten the proper time it needed to heal.

But then again, that’s just how he seemed over the phone.

“Tomorrow?” Gojo asked softly, “You wanna do this tomorrow?”

“Yeah, is that okay?” You question in return.

“Course’ it is,” He hummed, “I was wondering how long it was gonna take you to call me.”

You chuckle, “Sorry it took me a while…”

“It’s alright,” Gojo says, “I’ll see you tomorrow, yeah?”

“Mhm…” You hum almost longingly.

“Cya, sweets,” He dismisses.

You sigh heavily and your voice is barely even there as you utter the word bye— to which he ends the call.

You’re unsure of why but you didn’t want things to end yet. This was really the last page of such a headache of a story, the rolling credits of a heart-wrenching movie…

Just as quickly as that call went by, so did the rest of your day. Choso pointed out how gloomy you seemed and he knew it was because of what you had to do the next day. Even so, he just comforted you and told you everything’s gonna be okay-, that this is for the best.

You agreed with him, knowing that this wasn’t a weight you could carry on your shoulders forever. Despite not ever learning the truth, things would just have to end here.

If anything, Gojo did promise that he’d give you the truth in some years if you still cared. So, there would always be that to look forward to…

.　 . • ☆ . ° .• °:. *₊ ° . ☆ .　 . • ☆ . ° .• °:. *₊ ° . ☆

The next day was cloudy. Large fluffy gray clouds decorated the sky, small peeks of sunlight escaping through the cracks every now and then. Honesty, the weather matches your mood.

Gojo sent you this location of where he wanted everything to take place and you drove out to him by yourself. Choso told you to call him if you needed him for anything and again assured you that everything would be okay.

Somewhere deep down inside he was worried that this final meeting with an ex-lover of yours would or could change something between you and him but ultimately— Choso’s trust in you overpowered that worry. You’d shown him how much you loved him too much for him to doubt you now.

As for you… You don’t think you were ready to even lay eyes on Gojo yet, having sat in your car parked not too far from the spot he’s in for roughly thirty minutes. It took some real strength for you to get out of the car and head over to him.

He was in this park-like area but it seemed rather abandoned. It wasn’t ominous or anything, just dull and void of recent activity. There was this small river that you spotted Gojo nearby and in front of him was a large metal trash can— an item that seemed to be used numerous times to burn things.

Part of you wondered if Gojo had done this kinda thing before. Yet, all thoughts went out the window when you heard him humming to something.

Raising a brow at the lanky white-haired man, you notice he’s got headphones in his ear, casually humming along with whatever he was listening to. You were smiling at his cluelessness about you being there before you even realized it.

The closer you get, you notice his music is rather loud and he’s not paying attention to anything at all. Gojo had Sober by Childish Gambino blaring in his ears and you watch as he just stops nodding his head and then his shoulders raise and fall whilst he sighs heavily.

Gojo’s head tips back and his eyes shut— lost to his thoughts and oblivious to you approaching him. He was such an angelic-looking man and you hated to admit it but even now as you approach his side, you couldn’t help but admire him.

He seemed slimmer than the last time you saw him and as you studied his face, there were eyebags beneath his sockets, the sight making your brows furrow. His hair was a mess, seeming as though he didn’t even bother to brush it into a presentable state, and yet he still managed to look as beautiful as ever.

You do nothing more than nudge his arm and Gojo’s eyes flutter open, his head slow to turn and look down at you. The eye contact lasts for a long moment and it’s like you watched his eyes light up for a moment only to dim again. Not that they dimmed negatively but, they certainly weren’t as bright on you as normal.

Gojo heaves out yet another sigh and then moves to pull his phone out and pause what he had been playing. Then, he takes out his headphones and pockets them, “Hey,” He greets simply.

You swallow, “Hi Satoru.”

Gojo pauses, smiling for a moment before chuckling, “We’re really doing this, huh?”

You tilt your head, “Yeah, why? Are you not ready?”

The man shrugs, “I dunno.”

You simply stare up at him with pretty wide eyes, the sight making his heart skip a beat as he looks off to the side.

Something comes over you and you step closer to him, lifting a hand to his face and forcing him to turn his head to you again. His eyes are slow to drag down to your expression and he’s breathing oh so softly.

You frown at him, “Have you been getting any sleep?”

Gojo chuckles nervously, “Of course-“

“Don’t lie to me,” You cut off sternly.

He eats his words and then shakes his head, “Sorry. I’ve had a few restless nights here and there but I’m fi-“

“Please Satoru, don’t tell me you’re fine when it’s so painfully obvious you’re not,” You plead, shoulders sinking, “How am I expected to ever be happy if I know you’re hurting?”

His heart jumps at your words. Why is it that you care so much? Gojo smiles a little, “I’m not hurting, I promise. I just… I can’t sleep sometimes but I’ve had that problem long before you.”

“I’ve never seen the bags under your eyes this heavy before,” You point out before removing your hands from him and sliding the bag you brought with you off your shoulder.

“Why do you pay so much attention to me?” He asks.

As you drop the bag, you bend down to pull out the highlighted item of this meet-up. “Because I care about you, dumbass,” You voice out passive-aggressively.

Gojo gives you a dopey grin, “Yeah?”

You roll your eyes at the man and then move to smack his arm while you stand to your feet, “Yes. As much as I don’t mean to, I do. I care about you a lot.”

He frowns and rubs a hand over where you hit him, dramatically acting like you actually hurt him, “Don’t you have a boyfriend?”

“I do. But I’m allowed to care about you.” Your words left you as you approached the metal trash can and placed the book on top of the pile of previously burned items.

Gojo nods and reaches into his pocket for a lighter, “Fair enough.” He hums, stepping toward you and the item and staring at it for a moment, “How discreet; writing on the cover ‘list of people to seduce’.” He teases.

“Oh shut up,” You whine playfully, “I was stressed when I wrote that, okay? Hop off.”

Gojo snickers, “My bad, sweets.”

Then, he flicks the flame to his lighter and reaches in his other pocket to pull out some small bottle— the liquid inside presumably lighter fluid as he then pours it over the book and proceeds to light the item on fire.

Both of your eyes have a glint in there as the flames ignite— the warmth caressing the surfaces of your faces.

Silence overcomes the two of you and you guys just watch the journal burn. It feels like there is so much and so little to say at the same time.

Eventually, Gojo just blurts something out at random, “Both.” He hums.

You chuckle and turn your head to him, “W-What? Both what?”

“You once asked me if I love you because I blackmailed you or if I blackmailed you because I love you and my answer is both,” Gojo confesses as he turns to meet your gaze, “Through my blackmailing, I fell for you but I also did it because I loved you from the start.”

You simply blink, “That doesn’t make any sense.”

“It does, you just won’t understand it.” Gojo hums, smiling a little.

With a sigh, your eyes grow pleasing, “Then help me understand, please.”

“There isn’t much more for you to understand.” He states, “I’ve given you every answer I have, love.”

“But you haven’t.” You emphasize. If it’s all over, why can’t he tell you now? “You’ve given me everything but the answer.” You say.

“Answer to what?” Gojo taunts.

“Why. Why you did everything you did?” You ask.

He snickers and is casual with his answer like always, “Because I love you.”

“That-“

“You asked for an answer and I’ve given it to you nearly every time.” Gojo cuts off, “It’s always been that and it’ll never change. I did what I did because I love you, why is that so hard to accept?”

“Because that doesn’t make sense.” You argue with a scoff, “You fell for me amid your blackmail and yet you blackmailed me to begin with because you're in love with me?

“The answers are in your question.” He tells you.

Another sigh escapes, “What?”

“I’ve sacrificed everything for you, y’know.”

“How? What’s everything that you’ve sacrificed, hm?”

“You. I sacrificed the woman I love to make her happy.” Gojo admits, and of all he’s said thus far, that feels like the truest statement.

“I could’ve been happy with you.” You remind him.

He laughs, “Yeah well, I’m an idiot.”

You scoff, “That’s all you have to say?”

“Yup.”

“Satoru, I-“

“There’s things I should’ve done differently but I can’t take it back. My mistake was loving you and my happiness is also loving you but, only in letting you go will either of us find peace.” Gojo explains finally, “You know this.”

“I do.” Shaking your head, you shrug, “But, there’s so much unanswered.”

“There isn’t.” The man chuckles so sweetly, almost in a way that says he knows it all— which he does seeing as he simply keeps you in the dark.

Groaning a bit, “Satoru-“

He just cuts you off again, “I’ve given you my truth. There’s nothing else to it.”

“Okay, fine.” You result in saying.

The soft crackle of flames engulfing the journal fills the air accompanied by the two of you breathing softly. The reflection of the flames could be seen in either of your eyes and both of you simply relaxed yourselves.

He wasn’t going to give you any non-confusing answers and, y’know what, you were okay with that. Gojo promised one day he would and you believed in said promise.

So, now it’s quiet-, peaceful even. The journal was burning and burning, all known evidence of the list and memories that came with it being ridden from the world only to lay within the minds of you and Gojo Satoru.

How it started, how it ended— only the two of you would remember-

“Y’know…” Gojo suddenly speaks, breaking the silence and lightening the mood all of a sudden, “Before we part, we should name it.”

You scoff and glance at him, “Name what?”

“The list.” He clarifies.

Blinking, you raise a brow, “Why? It has a name already; the list.”

Gojo rolls his eyes and he moves to nudge your arm, “Oh come onnnnn, that's so plain. It needs a title.”

“Why? It’s burning.” You point out bluntly.

He’s smiling, “Okay, and the title of it can burn into our heads.”

“I don’t understand the importance of a-“

“The Hit List,” He suddenly spews out.

You freeze for a moment before letting out a cackle, “The Hit List? I was seducing people, not assassinating them.”

Gojo chuckles, “Alright thennn, The Lust List.”

“Mmmh, no.” You hum.

“No? Why not?” He asks, shrugging his shoulders as he does so.

Tilting your head, your eyes ogle the burning book a bit more, “It just doesn’t feel right.”

“Uhuh…” He nods, “Okay how about The Lewd List?” He suggests as he wiggles his eyebrows in a silly manner.

You laugh at him, “Hell no!”

“Alright then picky lady, you come up with somethin’,” Gojo says with a pout.

You fold your arms and hum in thought, “The Kiss List.”

“Did a lot more than kissing though, didn’t you?” He comments under his breath.

You smack his arm and he laughs. “The Sex List, then. Since I did more than kissing.” You mock him, purposefully making your voice deeper.

Gojo’s got this big smile on his face and the sun has emerged from the clouds to shine over the two of you. “That one’s not too bad but, no.”

“No?! Well then this naming bullshit is stupid.” You result in saying as you frown playfully.

His cheeks are all flushed from both laughing with you and the heat from the flames before him, “You’re stupid.” He responds with the same energy.

“Nuh-uh.” You hum.

Gojo snorts, “Yuh-huh.”

Giggling at the banter you still have with this man, you sigh, “Okay, whatever Satoru. Come up with a name or else-“

“Oh! I got it!” He suddenly claims with a snap of his fingers.

You look at him and tilt your head, “Yeah? What?”

Gojo laughs, “Oh this is perfect.”

“What is it, dumbass?” You urge.

He freezes dramatically and gives you a slow head turn as if he were offended, “Well if you’re gonna be mean to me I’m not gonna tell you…”

“Satoru.” You blink.

He blinks twice to mock you, “Sweetheart.”

“Just tell me the damn name already.” You sigh.

Gojo, being the dramatic king he is, steps closer to you and tosses an arm over your shoulder. He leans down so his voice is near your ear and he smiles, “You’re gonna like it.”

“What is it?” You huff out impatiently.

With one last snicker, Gojo tips his head over to rest it against yours as you both watch the book burn into its final ashes— both of you smile at its destruction and then he sighs.

“When you first asked me what you’d be doing with the list of those names, what did I say?” He asks as you both keep your eyes on the idle ashes.

You relax under his touch, “You said I’d be fucking them.”

“Right so, naturally,” Gojo pauses just to build up your anticipation, “The name should be rather simple.”

Nodding, you await him to say it, “Exactly…”

His smile grows into something softer, more at peace, “So we’ll remember it as…”

This gentle exhale leaves your lips as you wait for him to just say it already.

Gojo’s careful as finally tells you, “…The F*ck List.”

“That’s…” You blink, “That’s perfect but why’d you say it like that?”

His brows furrow, “Like what?”

“Like you censored the u in fuck, it sounded like you said The Fck List instead of The Fuck List-“

“Shhh,” Gojo shushes playfully, “It’s more aesthetically pleasing the way I said it, okay?”

You giggle again, “That doesn’t-“

“Sweetheart, please.” He interrupts.

“Fine fine…” Rolling your eyes, you shrug, “I guess that’s the name then.”

“Yup, and also the end.”

“Hm?”

“List is complete, you’re happy, I’m happy, so…” Gojo’s voice softens, “That’s the end.”

Feeling happy for some reason, you’re smiling as you speak, “Is it really?”

“Mhm…” Gojo hums and the two of you watch the dying flames as he truly speaks his final words on the matter, “…The end of The F*ck List."

mlist || previous chapt || alt ending || extras

tags;

@blognicole @suguruologist @luqueam @ivoryviness @sinaxalui @rxnnie18 @carlacujo @gods-landing @bitchysouljellyfish @miles4hour @sinaxalui @annananamin @heart-snow @kiyomizzx @hanuh @acehyacinth @mccookiemonster @tojis-ball-sack @cartwheel6869 @mariluvsusstuff @addie1010 @slammynics @actualz0mbie @hisbitchhh @kay-xle @cunttee3 @voids-universe @raininglovelyfire @itsbokutosjuicyass @peaceoutbritta @barbielani @gennaray @r3inae @kfmcykdy @camiihutt @tokina @curtin81937 @hopefullydecent @nameless-shade @ureuphoriasworld @forgetfulmachine @legbouk @lilliaannn @clementineee0-0 @divinelseraph @didibxx

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equalseleventhirds · 1 year

Text

"I don't understand how I'm losing," Reigen said, his hands flying over his keyboard. It was so late now—too late, maybe—if only he'd used the same technique as with the Player Killer from the beginning, he might have stood a chance, but he hadn't seriously thought he'd lose—

"Shishou," Mob said, "why is this so important? You already have second place from Twitter."

Reigen laughed, not at all nervously, and splayed a hand across his forehead. "You don't understand, Mob. The publicity from something like this, even a rematch, would do wonders for Spirits and Such. This is about business."

(He would never admit to his pride being on the line.)

"And anyway, who is this guy? A radio host? I've been on TV, you know."

Mob carefully did not bring up what had actually happened when Reigen made his television debut.

Ritsu had no such qualms. "When they exposed you as a fraud? That was publicity too, right?"

"Hey—!"

Serizawa leaned over Reigen's shoulder to see the computer screen, careful not to spill the tea he placed on the desk. "Oh, Cecil from Welcome to Night Vale? It's been a while since I listened to that, maybe I should catch up."

Reigen stared at him. "You? What? Serizawa?"

"Ah... yeah." He rubbed the back of his neck. "Back when I was... well, when I didn't leave my room much, the podcast was popular. I guess it gave a sense of... community? Feeling less alone, even when you are." He shrugged. "Plus, hearing another gay man in a show like that was comforting."

"He's gay? Canonically?" Why can't I be gay canonically?

"Sure, he got married in episode 100. It was very emotional."

"I nearly died in our chapter 100—"

-- -- -- -- --

Well, listeners, there's still a few hours left on the poll, but I'm now leading at 56%! I must say, I did not expect this, especially after Twitter users so clearly forgot—or perhaps never knew—about my Tumblr Sexyman Origins.

But, that's neither here nor there. I certainly am grateful, if a bit bemused, about all of this, but let us not forget that this is all a friendly competition. Unlike the annual War On Christmas—and let us all take a moment to remember our fallen allies against that terrible holiday foe—this is a battle of kindness. Love, even. The love we feel for Tumblr, for our favorite sexy men, for pressing a button on a meaningless internet poll. The love we feel, listeners, for each other.

And in the spirit of that love and friendliness, I figured I'd get to know my opponent a little better! A bit of googling, which of course you know means searching via every search engine but Google, what with the Town Council imposing the Google Search Tax and getting all Night Vale IP addresses shadowbanned, has led me to... oh my, listeners. I do not know who made this, but Reigen Arataka has the single most beautiful professional web page I have ever encountered. It's... words do not do it justice. I am tearing up. This... I could not make anything better myself.

A-hem. Listeners, now that I've wiped away the tears such beauty inspired in me, I can now see that Reigen's website advertises his business, one Spirits and Such Consulting. Well! We may be rivals in this moment, but I am overjoyed to learn that Reigen runs such an innovative and important business! I am nearly ashamed that, while my opponent works to make the world a better place, I, a mere community radio host, am winning the sexyman contest.

Nevertheless, we must respect the polls. Not respecting polls could get us in hot water with the Town Council, or with the demigods of numbers who lurk in the sharp edges of percentages. So since I can't hand my victory over to him, I think I'll do what I can as a community radio host, and promote Reigen Arataka's important business!

So if you're a spirit in need of counseling, a ghost in need of therapy, or an eldritch beast in need of a shoulder to cry on, head on over to Seasoning City and pay our good friend Reigen a visit! I'm sure he'll be pleased as anything to see you.

#long post #fanfiction #algie writes things #fjskdlfjdk SORRY ABOUT THIS BUT #i had to i had tooooooo #hammered this out v quickly and i am feelin v sleeby still so it's not polished but it IS funny #.......i think. i think it's funny. u kno.#anyway #sexymanotd #tumblr sexyman rematch #cecilsweep

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futureman · 10 months

Text

his favorite girl, part i

pairing: joel miller x f!reader

summary: joel agrees to teach you how to play guitar for a college course, but you can't keep your eyes off him long enough to learn. he really likes that.

warnings: 18+ MDNI, language, guitar teacher!joel, no outbreak, big age gap (reader’s 22, joel’s 56), slow-burn, sexual tension, finger kink, slight dubcon, touching, smut for later chapters, some fluff, mostly angst

word count: 3.3k

a/n: my first chaptered fic! dedicated to joel's fingers! i've been playing guitar a lot more lately so...yeah 🥲 thinking this'll probably be 3 or 4 chapters? as always, thoughts and feedback are always appreciated! hope y'all enjoyy

Don’t stare at his fingers. Don’t stare at his fingers. He’s doing you a huge favor by teaching you to play guitar in the first place. The least you can do is pay attention and stop staring at his fingers.

But it’s a lost cause, and you know it, because you’d have no hope of learning without staring at his fingers.

Even so, you’re convinced he’ll somehow know that’s not the real reason you’re watching them so intently. The way they hop gracefully from fret to fret, strings biting into his well-earned calluses, producing the most beautiful chords that ring out perfectly with every strum.

It’s a wonder any of that is even possible for him. You don’t mean to knock his talent—he obviously honed his craft through decades of fine-tuning and dedicated practice—but his fingers are just so thick.

With your clumsy, beginner’s touch, you’re constantly fumbling with the strings, unable to press down hard enough or keep your other fingers out of the way for them to vibrate the way they need to. They just sort of…fizzle.

But there’s a finesse to how he plays. It also helps that his guitar is a lot bigger than yours. It's a totally innocuous thought, but it still warms your cheeks a little. A big guitar for a big man. Broad and tall, with those thick, thick fingers—

“Hey, you still with me?”

You’re not sure when he stopped playing, but you really hope it was right before he said something. Otherwise, he definitely knows exactly what you were thinking about, and that would be humiliating.

Not a great start to your first guitar lesson, but how were you supposed to know your teacher was going to look like that? When your music theory professor recommended him, he conveniently left that part out, which, whatever, makes sense. But it still would’ve been helpful to know ahead of time.

Joel Miller. 56 years old. Has a ton of experience and takes on very few students, so you should consider yourself lucky. That’s all of the information you were given before you stepped into his house this afternoon, and were greeted by possibly the hottest man you’ve ever seen. He was supposed to be your ticket to an A on your senior thesis. But you’re totally flubbing it.

“Y-yeah, sorry, just got a little distracted,” you laugh awkwardly, wishing you had said anything else but that. You couldn't be any more obvious if you tried. “Won’t happen again, promise.”

He’s kind enough to pretend you’re not a filthy liar and taps the neck of his guitar to redirect your focus. “S’alright. We’ll just take it from the top. You remember the fingerin' for the first chord?”

You gape at him dumbly for a second. He’s kidding, right? You might as well leave now if he’s going to keep saying fingering with that devastating Southern drawl of his.

“Um, yeah, I think so,” you sputter, lying for the second time in a row. You're struggling to recall anything from your lesson but, god, you can only remember his fingers, not their placement. With no confidence whatsoever, you press your fingertips down firmly on the three strings you think he showed you. “Here, right?”

He quirks a brow. “You askin’ me or tellin’ me?”

Ah, so he’s that kind of teacher. The 'learn the hard way', 'fail on your own until you succeed' type. Well, he’s about to learn that you’re not that kind of student.

“…Telling?” Your voice lilts with even less confidence. He chuckles, nodding at your finger placement.

“Let’s hear it, then,” he says expectantly, the slightest hint of a smile on his face. You can’t tell if that’s a good thing or a bad thing, but you’re about to find out. You strum slowly, and the sound reverberates around the room.

Wrong.

His smile widens just a fraction as you grimace, quickly wrapping your hand around the neck of the guitar to stop the horrible noises still playing from it. You look over at him, wincing, but he doesn’t seem frustrated. If anything, he seems patient.

“Not quite,” he shakes his head, moving his instrument out of his lap so he can shift closer to where you’re sitting further down the couch. The cushion dips with his weight, and you tip into him slightly, but he remains completely unfazed. “Lemme show you again—and pay attention this time, alright?”

You start to nod apologetically, but then he throws an arm behind you on the back of the couch, and all hope of retaining whatever he’s about to teach you goes out the window. Instead of showing you on his own guitar, he gestures for you to hold yours up, gently arranging your fingers on the frets.

His fingertips whisper against yours like he’s hesitant to touch you, softly tugging them into place before pressing down, showing you the right amount of pressure to apply.

They feel just as warm and rough as you’d imagined, dwarfing yours by a long shot, and the realization makes your fingers accidentally twitch out of place. Your eyes dart up to gauge his reaction and lock with his, deep and brown, and very amused.

“Doin’ alright there?” he teases, and now you know he’s on to you. You try to play it off, blaming it on your inexperience.

“Just haven't gotten used to using those muscles yet," you mumble, moving your hand away from his to flex your fingers. "Not sure I've ever had to stretch them like that before."

"'m sure ya have. Probably just didn't realize it at the time. That kinda muscle soreness comes from prolonged repetition—repeatin' an action over 'n over," he explains in that syrupy-sweet accent, completely unaware of how his words are affecting you. "Bet ya use those fingers for a lot'a different things every day, just nothin' long or strenuous enough to leave you achin'."

You bite your lip to keep from reacting. He has to know what he's doing right now. How he sounds. This conversation is starting to veer into dangerous territory, but the weird thing about it is that he genuinely doesn't seem to realize that everything he's saying has a double meaning. To you, at least. You knew all this fingering talk was going to get you into trouble.

"Uhh, yeah," you agree, side-stepping that line of thought to bring yourself back to the lesson, but it's getting harder to stay focused. "I guess I just thought playing would mostly be memorization, but there's a lot of physicality to it, too, huh?"

"Yeah, s'pose that's true," he muses, looking down at the calluses on his own hand. This time you refuse to take the bait, your breathing already too shallow, heart nearly pounding out of your chest with how close he's sitting. But he’s still completely calm and collected. "Your hand hurtin' a lot right now?"

You shrug, inspecting your reddening fingertips. "Kinda, yeah."

"It's like that in the beginnin’," he says kindly. "But the more ya play, the tougher the skin gets, and ya won't feel it as much."

He surprises you by taking your hand again, massaging the tender skin between his thumb and index fingers. God, that feels so much better already. The heat of his fingertips seeps into yours, soothing the painful indents left by the unforgiving strings, and you let out a breathy sigh of relief.

You feel his entire body tense palpably next to you. It might be your imagination or just wishful thinking, but you swear you can feel his warmth radiating into your side, somehow even closer than before. Your brain’s starting to fizzle more than the sound of your shitty guitar playing, and the room feels a little hotter. Hazier, like a daydream.

"That feel good?" he murmurs, lips practically brushing the shell of your ear.

Definitely closer.

“Y-yeah, feels nice…really nice,” you stutter, voice lowering almost to a whisper as if you were sharing a secret. “The, um—the rest of my hand is a little sore, too. Is that normal?”

You can feel him grinning at your obvious attempt to get him to keep touching you, and he gives in easily. Surprisingly so, and it's becoming clearer that he's as into whatever's happening right now as you are. You’re not sure what happened to the unfazed man from before, but you’ll happily welcome this change in demeanor.

“Yeah, s’normal,” he trails down to your palm, engulfing your hand with his own. “Don’t worry, I'll take care of ya.”

Your eyes flutter closed as his thigh presses into yours, and the arm behind you lowers around your shoulders, his hand skimming the side of your neck. Shit, what is going on? You’re pretty sure guitar lessons don’t usually go like this, but you can’t bring yourself to dwell on it. Not when he feels this good.

Everywhere his skin touches yours feels electric, sending jolts up your spine, and making you forget where you are and what you were doing in the first place. He ducks down to press his lips to your bare shoulder, and your mind goes completely blank.

All that's left is...sensation. Something dragging roughly across your skin, then soft—a little chapped—and wet. Sharp. You're abruptly aware of him sucking a hard bruise at the crook of your neck, soothing the sting with his tongue, and you're unable to stop the whimper that escapes your lips. It's soft and inappropriate. A single, hushed syllable.

"Joel."

He lets out a pained groan that rumbles from deep within his chest, and the hand around yours tenses. That boundless patience he had earlier feels like it's about to run out, and the thought makes your blood run hot.

God, how is he real? How is this real? You just met this man—this much, much older man—less than an hour ago, and, yet, this is probably the hottest thing that’s ever happened to you. He continues to mouth up your neck, nipping at the underside of your jaw.

"What else hurts? Tell me, 'n I'll make it better," he mutters humidly, urgently against your skin.

You want to tell him where it hurts the most. That unbearable ache between your legs, the burning in your belly that you didn't even realize he was stoking. But you're so wound up, all you can manage is a frustrated sob.

"Use your words, beautiful. C'mon, lemme hear 'em," he says as if you're his instrument, meant to produce dulcet tones and resonate at his hand.

"It—fuck...it—here," you drag the hand clutching yours down, next to where the body of your guitar rests on your thigh. Where you've already soaked through the thin fabric of your pants. "Joel...need you to make it better."

The gentle vibrato of your voice, the way it shakes tumultuously around his name, and even more so when he cups your heat. His lips return to your throat to feel it, to taste it as you moan for him. And those fingers. You knew they’d feel good, and they’re so close to where you need them. Just a little bit more—but there’s still too many layers between you and his rough touch.

“M-more…need more, just—,” you whine, and he mirrors the sound back at you raggedly.

“‘Course, beautiful. Told you I’d take care of ya, didn’t I?

You're too far gone to even notice yourself desperately grinding into the palm of his hand, or the fingers at your cheek turning your face toward his.

Or your guitar quickly slipping out of your lap, more and more with each swivel of your hips. It hits the carpet with a hollow clang and, suddenly, the spell is broken. Then, it all comes crashing back.

He’s saying your name, but he sounds...different. Less breathy, less needy, and more like your patient, collected guitar teacher. Joel Miller. 56 years old, remember? Way too old for you, for your body to be reacting to him like this, and the man whose help you still desperately need to help complete your thesis.

Your eyes snap open and you realize with abject horror that you’ve been daydreaming this entire time. You can’t even imagine how long he’s been trying to get your attention while you’ve just been sitting here, fantasizing about his hands on you.

Not even ten minutes ago, you promised you wouldn’t get distracted, but you did. Again. And so much worse this time.

By his furrowed brow and the way he won’t even look at you, you must have accidentally said something out loud, too. Something totally inappropriate that you really shouldn’t have. But then, his hand twitches and your blood turns to ice.

That—fuck, that's not where it was before you zoned out. It was still on yours, arranging your fingers on the frets for the chord he was teaching you. He…he was asking about your hand, if it hurt, and then—

As if you’ve been burned, you quickly release his hand from where you’re clutching it between your legs—not just in your daydream, but in horrifying actuality. You’re screwed.

Not only is he probably going to kick you out of his house and refuse to be your teacher anymore, but he’ll likely tell your professor. And he’d have every right to. There’s no way you’ll be able to get anyone else to teach you after this.

The reason you’re here, everything you’ve worked so hard for, flashes before your eyes, catching fire and turning to ash. Your love for music, your degree—in the span of a single guitar lesson, you destroyed all of it.

And what would he think? Your father, your inspiration for choosing this path. He’d be so disappointed in you, though maybe not as much as you are right now.

All of this for what? The attractive, middle-aged guitar teacher you’ve known for less than an hour? He doesn’t even want you and, even if he did, that’s not what you came here for. Stupid, stupid.

You can feel his eyes on you, but you can’t bear to look at him, to say anything at all. Instead, you lean down to retrieve your guitar from where it still lies face down on the floor, and slowly stand up.

“I, uh…,” you croak out, fighting the urge to cry and look like even more of an idiot. You shake your head, unable to finish your sentence, and start to walk away, but then something miraculous happens.

Joel’s hand shoots out, his fingers wrapping around your wrist to keep you from leaving. You turn back to him, eyebrows raised in shock, dropping your gaze to where his skin is touching yours. He doesn't let go.

“Look—,” he starts, and you wince. It’s never a good sign when someone starts a sentence like that. If all he’s trying to do is let you down easy, he shouldn’t have stopped you. He’s just shaming you even further. “—‘m not too sure what just happened here, but if you just—if ya sit back down, we can talk about it or…just keep goin’ with the lesson…”

You didn’t see that one coming.

“You want me to stay?” you ask dubiously. “Why?”

You search his eyes for the answers to all of the things you’re not understanding, but come up with nothing. He’s sitting on the couch watching you, still holding your hand like nothing’s wrong. Acting like none of this is a big deal, as if you didn’t basically just shove his hand down your pants without his consent.

“Still got a lot to teach ya. We didn’t even get through the first line of music,” he chuckles, his voice filled with such kindness. So much more than you deserve.

“Yeah, and that’s my fault. I—,” you pause, still trying to gather your thoughts, “—I crossed a line…made you uncomfortable. You really don’t have to do this.”

He sighs, rubbing his thumb soothingly into your wrist, and the gesture makes you shiver. Somehow it’s calming, even as the gears continue to turn in your head. You still can’t seem to grasp any of this or shake the feeling that there’s something wrong with this picture.

“Well, isn’t this supposed to be a favor for some big, important grade? Don’t ya need this to pass your class?”

He’s not wrong. Without his help, you’re basically fucked for the rest of the semester.

“Yeah, I...actually really do,” you answer hesitantly.

Hope blooms in your chest. Maybe your thesis isn’t totally lost. If you’re lucky, maybe you’ll even be able to focus on your lessons.

“I think we can keep this professional. Don’t you?” he implores, brows raised.

He’s right again. That’s the only way this is going to work, but it’s still a reminder that he’s not interested in you in the slightest. You’re not sure why that feels so bad.

“Totally,” you breathe out, but your expression must betray your words because he rushes to reassure you.

“It’s not that I—look, I mean…you’re a beautiful girl ‘n all, but…,” he trails off, and…what?

Beautiful. He can’t have just said that out of the blue. Beautiful, of all the words he could’ve used to describe you right then. This man is driving you crazy—and he won’t stop.

“Can’t help feelin’ like maybe I gave ya the wrong impression. I took advantage of ya,” he looks away, pained, like this was all his fault. You have no idea how he came to that conclusion, but he’s got it all wrong.

“What—no. No, if anything, I took advantage of you. You were just trying to be a good teacher,” you shake your head furiously. “Look, I did this. You didn’t do anything wrong.”

“Yeah, but I didn’t pull away, now, did I?”

His eyes meet yours again, darker than before, and you know for a fact you’re not making it up this time. The setting sun is casting shadows around his living room, across his 80s-style leather couch and carpet, illuminating every one of his handsome features.

And, yet, his eyes are black, endless voids that threaten to consume you. Whatever power he has over you feels dangerous. You knew you couldn’t have imagined it all.

But it's gone as quickly as it came. He clears his throat, dropping your wrist as if he finally came to his senses. Your patient, unaffected guitar teacher is back.

“I, uh, think maybe that about wraps it up for today,” he says with finality, standing up. “It's already eight, anyhow. You should head on home.”

Gently plucking the guitar from your hands, he zips it up in its case and gives it back to you. You nod, feeling grateful, but cautious...and also extremely curious. His hand finds the small of your back, leading you to the front door, and you try your best not to react as his fingers urge you forward.

You know you’ll be thinking about them later tonight, even though you really shouldn’t. About them finishing what you started earlier, taking care of you like you still want him to. Part of you hopes he’ll be thinking about yours, too.

His hand drops and he turns to you with a small smile, leaning on his arm against the doorframe.

"But, uh, same time tomorrow? And maybe put in a little practice time before then—stretch out those fingers so you're ready to play."

“Sure,” you reply breathily. “Same time tomorrow.”

thanks for reading! part ii coming soon 🥰

(p.s. how are we feeling about finger sucking...okay bye)

#joel miller x reader #joel miller x you #tlou fanfiction #the last of us fanfiction #pedro pascal characters #joel miller

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kvtie444 · 5 months

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⋆‧₊˚ TEACHERS PET

A/N: ALL CHARACTERS ARE OVER 18!! gonna try make this a series lol p.s. I love covet sm lolziezzzzzzzz

Summary: Reader has a new teacher and finds herself falling for him blahblahblah teachers pet by melanie vibes xoxo

Warnings: swearing, mentions of nsfw content, that’s it??

・₊✧⋆⭒˚｡⋆

If you're fortunate enough to own a car, count your blessings. Given the means, I would have purchased one long ago, but the weight of tuition fees compels me to endure a daily mile-long walk in the unforgiving cold almost every day. Oddly enough, the journey to campus carries its qualities - passing through a park, surrounded by pleasant scenery, with my favourite playlist playing through my headphones, it becomes an almost comforting routine - except on days like today, where I’m running late.

Choosing sociology ranks among the biggest mistakes in my life, closely followed by my track record with every guy I've been involved with. It seems every guy my age is solely fixated on getting their dick sucked and seeking validation from their male peers.

Entering my building, I head straight to class, mentally preparing myself for boredom. Amongst my whole class, I've only really gotten close with one person in my class - Madi. She's friendly, and her accom building is conveniently across mine, making her my go-to companion here. Reaching my relatively small class, I push the door open, taking my seat beside Madi. Placing my bag on the desk. I unpack my belongings, removing my headphones and setting them on the table. "Look who's finally arrived," Madi teases with a smile. Glancing at her and then towards the front of the room, I notice the absence of the teacher. Did I really beat him here? "Where's Mr. Kennedy?" I ask, confusion etched on my face. Her expression falters. "Didn't you hear?" she begins. I shake my head no. "He got caught having an affair with a student," she whispers. My jaw drops. "So, who's filling in for him?" I ask. She simply shrugs.

Engaging in small talk whilst I log onto my laptop, her attention shifts to the door as our new teacher arrives, a solid 12 minutes late. I keep my eyes glued to my screen as I overhear him grabbing items from his desk. I momentarily look away and I almost moan when I see him. Brown hair, blue eyes, a slight beard, a chain sitting on top of his black sweatshirt, and plain black pants - he doesn't look a day older than 30. Picking up a marker from his desk and delicately fiddling with the lid, he looks up to face the class.

"Mr. Kennedy is unable to continue teaching you guys, so I'll be filling in for him," he announces, turning around to write his name on the board alongside the topic where we left off. "My name is Mr. Sturniolo, or just Matthew if you can't pronounce it," he half-jokes, a small chuckle escaping from his pink lips. Madi leans toward me, whispering in my ear, "smash." I can't help but chuckle, nudging her with my shoulder. When Matt turns around, his eyes dart into mine, shooting me a disciplinary look. I purse my lips, attempting to contain my smile, and look down, mouthing a small "sorry." He returns to his desk, flicks open his textbook, lands on a page, and then speaks up, "Everyone, go to page 56. We're going to start off where you were all left off with class differences in achievement”.

Throughout the lesson, he does an impressive job at teaching. He even sets up a Google Classroom for all his work and provides a platform for questions if we're confused—something Kennedy could never manage. Matt sends me a few glances, and each time, my face grows hot, causing me to look away first and break the eye contact. Eventually, the lesson concludes, and everyone quickly packs up, ready to leave.

"Alright, everyone, I want you all to finish off the chapter, make notes, and I'm going to upload a short essay question for you to fill out too. I want it done for tomorrow's lesson," he says, people beginning to exit the room, with me and Madi following suit. As I walk out the door, I glance back at him, and our eyes meet. He shoots me a smile, which I quickly return before looking and walking out of the room.

˚₊‧꒰ა ☆ ໒꒱ ‧₊˚

I let out a frustrated groan, slouching back in my chair and running my hands down my face. I find myself back in my dorm, attempting to tackle this essay, but I’m stuck on my counterargument. I glance at my open laptop, its glow being the only source of light in my room as I anxiously tap my pen against my desk. Why am I so hesitant to ask my teacher for help? Y/n, don't bother him; it's 11 pm. fuck it.

Summoning a bit of courage, I lean forward and compose a message for him, meant for our eyes only. "Hello Mr. Sturniolo, I was wondering how to counterargue in the essay you assigned. Best regards, Y/n." No, no, no. I delete the message and retype, reminding myself that I'm not messaging fucking royalty. The new message reads, "Hi Matt, I'm a bit unsure of how to counterargue in the essay. Thanks, Y/n." I bite my lip before hitting send and then pick up my pen, drumming it against my desk again. I can't help but keep checking if he replies. It's only been two minutes. I mean, it's late. I keep my eyes glued to my screen eagerly until I see my 'delivered' message switch to 'read.' My breath hitches as my left leg shakes, my heel tapping the ground in quick patterns as I see three typing dots.

"Hey Y/n, don't worry about it. Try using the functionalist perspective and theorists like Parsons. I'll send you the page now. Matt." I smile at the message and feel like a cheesy teenage girl, my breath hitching when he sends an image. It's a page from the textbook which he is holding down with his left hand. shit. His large hand looked veiny, and his fingers took up so much space. He had rings on his fingers, excluding his ring and middle finger, making me bite my lip, almost prompting a moan at the idea. No, Y/n, he's your teacher. My eyes moved up his arm to catch a glimpse of the tattoos that were previously hidden under his sweatshirt. I wasn't even focusing on my work anymore. I snap out of my daze and type a little message, hoping to keep the conversation going. "Thank you !!" I send, now biting the end of my pen, smiling to myself. He's quick to start typing back, "Don't worry about it." I stare at the message until my breath hitches once I see him typing again. "Next time, try not to leave my work for the last minute." I softly giggle to myself, looking down at my hands.

I finally get the work done, submitting it online. I climb into bed and scroll through my phone until I fall asleep, feeling a sense of anticipation and excitement about seeing Matt again tomorrow.

˚₊‧꒰ა ☆ ໒꒱ ‧₊˚

Back in class again, I find myself barely able to focus on anything - well, it wasn't even work. Matt had put on some documentary, but my attention was solely fixed on him. What's wrong with me? He's just a good-looking guy, Y/n. A really, really good-looking guy.

"Y/n?" I'm snapped out of my trance by Madi. I look up at her; she's standing up, bag on her shoulder. "Lesson's over. Wanna meet and get some food later?"

I nod, "Yeah, text me," I reply, smiling as I get up and put my headphones back on, playing my music. I walk towards the door until I feel a hand on my arm, turning me around. Confused, I look up, and my confusion softens, feeling my face heat up upon seeing it's Matt. I pull my headphones down around my neck as he smiles at me.

"I was calling your name a few times, but your music's too loud," he chuckles. I giggle back at him, feeling flustered. His eyebrows furrow, and a smirk grows on his face. "Is that 'Covet'? Basement?" he continues, referring to the song from my headphones. I look down at my headphones before looking back up at him, smiling, nodding my head, "Yeah,". This man could not get any more perfect. He bites his lip slightly before leaning against his desk, crossing his arms over his chest.

"Am I in trouble?" I ask, my brows knitting together in worry. "Hm? Oh, no, no," he shakes his head. "Just have to hold you behind a bit and ask you something," he continues.

Shit.

・₊✧⋆⭒˚｡⋆

#chris sturniolo #matt sturniolo #sturniolo triplets #imagine #angst #chris sturniolo x reader #fluff #matt sturniolo x reader #nick sturniolo #smut #SoundCloud

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pedgito · 5 months

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𝐌𝐄𝐄𝐓 𝐌𝐄 𝐈𝐍 𝐓𝐇𝐄 𝐖𝐎𝐎𝐃𝐒 ╳ SERIES MASTERLIST

Chapter One: Decisions

[strangers to friends to lovers, age gap (56/mid 20s), forced proximity, no outbreak]

(Series) Content Warning: a very, very lonely joel miller. copious amounts of lusting, tension, joel is an excellent cook (food, alcohol, ect), hot tubs, impromptu snowball fights, awkward situations, deep talks and tragic backstories (specified within chapter warnings, deeply depraved smut/sexcapades and the inappropriate use of a dining table (also specified within chapter warnings), nicknames of endearment (no use of y/n)

Chapter Summary: The night of your arrival is anything but what you expected, realizing that not only was your cabin double-booked but the unexpected guest is more than willing to leave you stranded to savor his peace. A handful of stubborn talks and a big decision later, you realize that Joel might not be that much of a stranger at all.

Chapter Warnings: (7.2k) no outbreak, grumpy!Joel, fem!reader, weapons of convenience, reader being mesmerized but how handsome Joel is, copious amount of lusting, book talks, age gap, Joel has secrets, reader has a difficult relationship with family, two beds (but that won't last)

You should feel terrible about this. Distraught. Riddled with a crippling sadness over a lie that grew from your own selfishness. But, there’s nothing but tremendous relief as you shove your things into the trunk of your Uber and crawl into the backseat, starting the three hour drive into the deep Piney Woods of Texas.

You should feel horrible.

But, the silence is nice. You’re especially thankful that your driver wasn’t a people person at all, pointedly avoiding any communication outside of a greeting. It feels business-like, transactional. You couldn’t be bothered with the niceties and cheerfulness that surrounded the holidays. It made you sick to your stomach, chewing on your bottom lip without a thought in your mind as you inch closer. A three hour drive turns into two, falling asleep somewhere along the way, only waking up fifteen minutes away, somewhere along a rocky drive down a scenic, winding road that pulls a beautiful cabin into view.

It was lit up, decorated like a fucking christmas tree.

You grimaced slightly, but despite that, it was still everything you expected. It wasn’t too large or spacious, you wouldn’t feel so alone out here for the few weeks you were planning to stay and it wasn’t too cramped either. You felt if you uttered the word perfect it would turn into a jinx, so you kept yourself together and dragged yourself out into the cold, frigid air when the car pulled to a stop. The driver helped you with your bags, you remember to leave him with a big, gracious tip that left him more than satisfied, and he was on his way without a word.

You took a big breath, expanding your lungs and breathing in the fresh air. You didn’t feel suffocated here, something you noticed immediately. It wasn’t because of the lack of city pollution. Dragging your bags up the steps are a challenge, but you manage even with the rickety wheel that snags on a chipped piece of brick, unlocking your phone to remember the code that the owner had sent you earlier that morning, fumbling until your fingers came to life and pressed the code into the lock, a satisfying click of relief in the mechanism and you turned the doorknob.

Finally.

The heat blasts your face like a furnace, thawing out your limbs as you move quickly, efficiently and with too much urgency to escape the nighttime cold. You don’t notice much at first, among the amenities that came with the cabin, a fresh bottle of wine on the table and a note tucked under, something you would guzzle down sometime later. There was a fire going, low and crackling—seems unsafe, but what the hell did you know? It had to be the owners, assuming they came out earlier in the day in preparation for your arrival.

There’s blankets littered throughout, draped over the back of a couch, dark and covered in an unseemly plaid pattern, another stack of smaller blankets placed on a nearby cushion. Freezing to death seemed to be their immediate concern, obviously. You wandered aimlessly in the dark, scoping out both a light switch and the kitchen, noticing the stock of food, things that wouldn’t perish easily, probably for emergencies, but things are even more interesting as you approach the fridge, bathed in the fluorescent light as you look at the also stocked fridge, not fully, more sparsely, like someone who couldn’t decide on what to eat or maybe only cooked one meal a day. It’s then when a thought dawns on you that feels impossible, a lingering suspicious as your eyebrows pull into a taut line, fanning over the marble slab of counter-space, eyes landing on the window that hung over the kitchen sink behind a wretchedly patterned curtain, spotting the old truck parked outside the back of the cabin.

Your mind filters through a thousand and one reasons on why it would be there, but whatever is there in your mind is quickly snuffed out by the creaks of rickety floorboards and a hall light flickering on in the distance behind you—you reach and ultimately fumble for anything nearby to use as a weapon, landing on the single-most deadly thing in your line of sight that you can grasp quickly. There’s a knife block a few feet away and it’s the only plausible thing your brain can think of in a panic, unsheathing and turning on your heels to the person standing several feet away.

He is large, you can tell as much. Still mostly covered by the shadow of darkness that blanketed the rest of the cabin, you could make out the scruff of some facial hair, his tall stature, and the axe he gripped by the neck.

A fucking axe.

You were, no doubt, about to be murdered. It was the only thought on your mind, because despite the hard grip on the handle of the knife, you were no match.

But, then he speaks.

“Got about ten seconds to start explain’ what the hell you’re doin’ in this cabin.” As expected, his voice left little room to argue—but you had paid to be here. Fucking paid. You had every right.

Fuck this guy.

You grip the knife a tighter, knuckle-white grip as you raise it in a feeble attempt to seem threatening, “I booked this place for a month, I’ve got the front door code—who the fuck are you?”

You’re surprised that it works, but the rigidness in the stranger’s shoulder relaxes slightly and the butt of the axe hits the floor as he rests against an adjoining wall.

“Don’t think none of that matters,” He replies with a reverence of annoyance as he flicks on a nearby light and illuminates the living area of the cabin—shit, that’s where it was? Part of you was glad you hadn’t found it, wondering if he had been waiting in the shadows since you stepped inside the cabin, “you need to drive back into town and explain the mix up.”

Drive back? A fucking mix up?

“No.” It’s a steady answer, no quiver in your voice. You lower the knife, but it’s still held tightly at your side. And as the stranger steps into clearer view, you can’t help but memorize his face.

You know, in the case that you might need to describe it to the police if you weren’t already dead by then.

It’s almost unfair how threatening he looks without trying and yet somehow, irreverently handsome. It feels like a silly thought to have, but you weren’t blind. He’s older, much older than yourself. Hardened features, a sharp jawline covered with a thicker beard kept trimmed but still patchy in spots, face worn with worry. He was undoubtedly human and vulnerable, just like you. You can’t see much about his stature beside his height and tanned skin, muddled out by his pajamas, though he seems like he probably does some heavy lifting.

And meanwhile, your staring is noticed. He remains several feet of distance but his eyebrow quirks upwards slightly, arms crossing over his chest and—oh. He is the last person you would want to spar in a fight, biceps pulling taut and bulging slightly.

“Sure you didn’t book the other cabin down the way?” He sounds like he’s questioning a child, such a ridiculous mistake to make.

Oh, how could you be so stupid?

There was no mistaking which cabin you booked, because obviously, the other one was already booked out. This one wasn’t.

At least, it wasn’t supposed to be.

“Look,” The knife clatters against the counter and his eyes track it before averting back to you, “I get that you probably think this is some mistake on my part and whatever grumpy attitude you have, I also get it,” You really fucking did, feeling the beginnings of your blood boil with frustration, “I booked this trip two months ago, I triple checked the address, the owners sent me the door code yesterday morning. There is no way I booked the other cabin.”

He doesn’t even flinch, not a muscle. He’s unconvinced, unamused, and rearing on the edge of throwing your bags out himself just to get you out of here.

“Jesus, fuck—” You rip your phone from your coat pocket and flip through your apps until you land on the email full of information, booking address, dates, and all, and slide the phone across the counter, because despite his willingness to kick you out on your ass, the murderous aspect subsided the moment he dropped the axe.

Now, he just seemed like an asshole.

He approaches slowly, eyeing the phone skeptically before making it seem diminutive in his grip, squinting moderately as he brought the phone closer and looked, expression dropping by the millisecond as the realization settled in. And you start to feel triumphant, like you might’ve actually won the argument. There was still one problem at hand.

He was still here. You were still here.

And neither of you were going anywhere.

So, instead of trying to compromise, he doubles down.

“I was here first.”

“You’re fucking kidding me?” In a world of assholes, he was their all triumphant leader, “It’s below freezing, I Uber’d three hours to get out here, and I have no service. I’m not leaving.”

This, ultimately, had to be your worst nightmare. Double-booking? In the middle of the woods with a complete stranger who obviously had some murderous tendencies if his first instinct was to grab a goddamn axe? And no service?

“You didn’t drive here?” It’s the only thing he asks, bypassing everything else.

“You know, I think I just said I didn’t.”

“You had someone drive you three hours out in the woods with no way of transportation anywhere for,” He takes a second glance at your phone, noting the booking dates, “four weeks?”

Admittedly, it was done on a whim. You hadn’t thought out the fine details, but you knew there was a small store a few miles north that was run by a nice old lady that provided to some of the people who did live out in these woods year round. It was the one thing the owners had added as an addition to the obvious plus of the cabin being so secluded. Plus, the cabin was stocked with some food, or at least, it was.

You wanted no contact. But, obviously you weren’t going to get that.

“Kinda part of the whole getting away for the holidays memo,” You reply sarcastically, “I would’ve managed, mind you.”

Maybe. You would’ve figured it out eventually, but that didn’t matter. Things weren’t going as planned now. You interject again, crossing your arms to match his stance briefly before throwing your arm out flippantly as you waved a hand toward the untraversed hallway.

“This place has two bedrooms, doesn’t it?”

A two bed, one bath cabin. You remembered that much.

He clears his throat, “Yeah.” He sounds so foreboding it makes you ache with an anxiety you had tried so hard to escape from.

“And seein’ as you’re here alone,” You didn’t need to make any assumption otherwise, he seemed like the lonely type, “and I’m here alone—I’m staying.”

“For the night.” He corrects, “Then I can drive you into town tomorrow morning and you can get your refund and find a ride home.”

You fight the urge to roll your eyes, snatching your phone off the counter and stowing it away in your pocket again, finally taking the steps to bypass him and reach for your bags.

The thing was—you weren’t leaving. If there was anything to be learned about you, it was how undoubtedly stubborn you could be. This cabin was just as rightfully yours as it would be anyone else who paid for the time. It was money you had worked to save up, money you had shoveled out to secure yourself a relaxing holiday and it wasn’t about to be ruined.

His voice startles you as he, somehow, had moved closer without you noticing. He was reaching for your bags too, because despite his grumpiness, he was still that guy—of course.

“Don’t. Touch.” You glance at him with a warning, which he takes, thankfully. He retracts and lingers briefly as he snuffs out the fire before he returns to his own room, you can only assume.

And even if you wanted to give him the benefit of the doubt, you still barricade your door that night, suitcase stacked on suitcase, bag on bag, and you’re almost sure he can hear it if he’s still awake. You hope he does.

But, when your head hits the pillow, all tucked away in the bed that would become yours for the next month, you immediately fall asleep despite the lingering threat outside your door.

It all feels like a horrible dream until your eyes open the next morning and again, you’re here.

Then there’s a lingering smell of bacon, breakfast cooking in the distance and the house is warm, inviting, welcoming. Damn.

Fine. You were curious. Still annoyed, but not as much after a night of sleep. You could approach this at a different angle, with a better attitude and maybe work something out with the stranger outside of your bedroom.

You stretch your limbs until the protest and steady on your feet, wrapping one of the spare blankets at the end of the bed over your shoulders and around your body as you trudge toward the living area, connected kitchen off to the side as you round the corner of the hallway.

Your eyes settle on his back first, thankful he doesn’t immediately lock eyes with you when you enter—his muscles stretch as he fiddles with something on the stove, shoulder blades pulling inwards as he shakes the pan gripped in his right hand, still dressed in his clothes from the night before and his hair mussed up in the back from sleep and it feels odd to admire him for a moment, but you really can’t help it.

There was a time when you’d scold yourself, but a lifetime of horrible boyfriends and even worse hook-ups, you knew that you had needs and feelings and you weren’t the type to ignore them or make excuses. Whoever he was, whatever his name may be, he was handsome. It was the first thing you thought about last night, despite the presence of possible murder, and it was the only immediate thing on your mind at the moment.

It had been months. You were giving up a little lee-way to feel bad for yourself.

But, then he’s speaking and it startles you to near death.

“Mornin’.” He greets with a reverence you are not expecting. He sounds relaxed.

The fucker sounds relaxed. Like he hadn’t tried to kick you out on your ass the night before. Your face pulls up in a disgruntled scrunch and you have the gamble to look confused. Because, yeah. This was not the person you met last night—given you were technically an intruder in his mind.

Maybe he wasn’t a complete asshole after all—No. Nope. You barely know him.

“You gonna keep starin’ or eat some breakfast?” He asks a little less polite, but it’s rude enough to elicit a response. Because, yes—you were starving.

So, stare and eat.

You take a seat at the barstool tucked under the island and assess the field, a mix of simple breakfast items: pancakes, eggs, bacon, toasts with varying levels of char, and a small bowl of mixed berries.

This feels…a little too much. But, you dig in with a ferocity that stomps out any current concern.

“Look–” He starts after a long bout of silence, having turned off the burner and beginning to assemble his own plate.

“If this is an apology breakfast for being a complete asshole,” You shake your head, cheeks puffed with the fluffiness of a pancake, slathered and drowned in syrup a few berries swimming in the pooled up sugary mess as you forked them and stuffed them in alongside, “apology accepted. Forgiven. Whatever.”

You couldn’t be bothered to care at that moment. You’d stood your ground, you weren’t leaving.

“It’s…not.” He eventually manages to say, interrupted by your schpiel, cutting his way through his eggs before forking a piece into his mouth, chewing slowly, “Look, I didn’t want send you off with an empty stomach, might not be great at this,” He waves a vagrant hand—Oh, so…talking to people, being accommodating, this last could drag on and on and—”but it’s not your fault, I guess.”

“It’s not,” You quickly retorted, the space between your brow scrunched into a permanent scowl at this point, “are you—You’re still trying to kick me out? No….no.”

“I was here—”

“First, yeah. I heard you last night.”

And part of you hears the echoing of your mother, that pestering and insisting tone she carried.

“Try new things, sweetheart. Meet someone. You never know what will happen.”

Of course, that didn’t apply to complete strangers. She meant it in the context of: find a nice boy, date him, marry him, and give her grand-babies. You were never going to be that person.

You tried. Hard. Dated for a year, then two, and that ended in a mess of tears. You hated thinking about the effort you attempted to put into a relationship that was doomed from the beginning. You both ended up at different colleges and it was all for naught. And through college, you swore off boyfriends, slept around, and it was easier. But, it was less than exciting.

In fact, it was boring.

But regardless, the sentiment stuck around. You weren’t trying to trick this man into falling in love with you, but you weren’t going to let him displace you on a holiday vacation.

Screw this guy.

“This cabin has two bedrooms and plenty of space. I booked this place until the end of the month and I’m not giving it up,” You state matter-of fact, “You’re not driving me back into town and you’re not going to boss me around like you have some authority over me. I don’t even know you.”

The man seems speechless for a moment, chewing silently at his breakfast.

That was exactly what he assumed would happen—that he could, basically, command you into leaving. Thankfully, you didn’t do well with authority.

“Actually, how do I know you aren’t some squatter?” You ask suddenly, fork clanking against the plate as it falls, “Why don’t you show some proof that you paid to be here?”

It shouldn’t surprise you when he reaches for his own phone, taking his sweet, sweet time to scroll until he finds the proof and slots the phone your way. It doesn’t surprise you. You only wanted the proof.

But, you can’t help the way your eyes bug out when you read the dates, matching up almost perfectly with your own, give or take a few days—which is why he arrived before you. He was here until the day after Christmas, just like you.

Your luck, of course.

You slid the phone back toward him and pushed your plate aside, thankfully full up on breakfast, but still frustrated. Things weren’t supposed to go this way. It was supposed to be a month away, a month of seclusion. But, that obstacle was standing opposite of you.

You sigh heavily, shrinking under your blanket and burying your head into cupped hands, digging the heels of your palms in until you see stars, coming up for air only after the plates start to clink against each other from movement.

“Okay,” You take a breath, lifting your head slowly, “I’m guessing you came out here to be alone,” It’s only an assumption, but it seems glaringly obvious, “so did I. So, how about we just do our best to avoid each other?”

“Seems kinda hard,” He argues, “seeing as we’re under one roof.”

“Well, we eat together. Or we don’t at all. I don’t need you cooking meals for me—but outside of that or just some occasional passing by, we don’t have to talk.”

It wasn’t a well-thought-out plan, but…

You’ve had enough roommates to have mastered this skill by now. Just because you were under the same roof as someone didn’t mean you had to get along, though it was ideal. It was a month. You could manage.

Keep your things locked away, doors locked too, always keep your guard up, live the entire vacation with the lingering thought that maybe he might have underlying murderous tendencies—and guessing by the even blanker look on his face as he examines you, your mind really starts to wonder.

“Fine.” He agrees.

Wait.

“You’re serious?”

“Doesn’t seem like you’re givin' me much of a choice.”

You smile triumphantly, a little too eager to gloat.

“Unfair, isn’t it?”

You couldn’t resist. And you brace for a rigid retort, some grumble under his breath. But, it never comes.

Instead, he chuckles. It’s so slight you almost miss it, but his chest shakes with a silent laughter before he’s returning to his neutral state and shaking his head in disbelief.

“Must be used to gettin’ your way.” He’s eyes flick up, hands buried into the dishwater he’s managed to start up under the rumble of conversation—there’s definitely something there, a glint in his eyes.

You feel like you’re imagining things. You definitely were.

“Not at all, actually.” You contradict, tapping a lone finger against the countertop, “So—can I ask your name? Seein’ how we’re going to be around each other for the next…month.” It feels unreal as it rolls off your tongue.

A month with a total stranger. Perfect idea.

“Joel.” He answers simply. You have to take his word for it. But, you don’t sense a lie. You respond with a polite utterance of your own name and that closes the conversation out.

You watch in silence as Joel cleans, his pointed wandering around the kitchen, a purpose behind his steps as he moves. He’s so…broad. So large.

Much larger than any man you’ve come to know, or seen, really. You blame it on the fact that college boys were just that…boys. They weren’t men. Not like Joel.

He carried it in his voice, his demeanor, the age on his face that worked—and so well, at that. You never had a reason to look at men, older men. The type that would complain about you being half their age, how you reminded them of their own daughter. You would wretch away in disgust and flee a million miles in the other direction.

But, Joel. He wasn’t like that at all. He hadn’t given you a reason to think otherwise—and here you were, lusting over someone you knew nothing about. Pathetic.

“Starin’ ain’t polite,” He chides, no malice in his tone but it pulls you away from your quickly fleeting, depraved thoughts, “parents never teach you that?”

“I never listened much,” You shrug, but there’s an urge to apologize given the close quarters and conditions you were agreeing to live under for the next few weeks, “and it’s a bad habit, sorry.” It feels a little less than sincere, but Joel takes it with no issue.

But, there’s a sight you don’t catch as you retreat back to your own room.

Because Joel—his eyes follow you the entire way, wondering just how much of a mess he wrapped himself up in when he agreed.

—

Your eyes dry up with how long you’ve stared at your phone screen, staring at the small letters that spell out No Service and huffing out a small sigh as you rolled over in bed, shifted to find a comfortable spot…nothing.

You shift again, still not good enough.

This was going to be a nightmare if you secluded yourself in the bedroom, cooped up on a bed that, while decent, wasn’t your own.

Maybe booking this trip was a terrible idea.

You shouldn’t have lied to your parents about your reasoning for a spur of the moment trip to the deep woods of Texas—even though you had booked it out weeks in advance.

And that you were taking the trip with a boy that didn’t exist, which was a bigger lie to add to the already rapidly growing web you’d weaved.

“You don’t know him,” You’d told her, “I’m not ready to introduce him.”

Because, really—how the fuck were you supposed to introduce someone who didn’t exist?

You sit with a defeated jolt and reach for one of your bags, the only one filled with things that weren’t absolute necessities. Mostly books, a music player, stuff that would, hopefully, keep you busy if you got bored while you were here alone.

Alone was a foreign concept now.

Somewhere in the fog of thoughts you find a book, covered tattered from years of wear, years and years of rereads that never got old.

You could make yourself disappear somewhere on the couch in the living room, but not stuffed into a corner in a bedroom when you had an entire house at your expense.

Joel wouldn’t even know you were there.

—

Joel wasn’t even here.

When you step out into the hall, floorboards creaking underneath your weight, the silence otherwise is deafening. You traverse further, his bedroom door shut tight.

Well, maybe he had the same idea you originally did, tucking yourself away into your room. You shrug to yourself and continue the path to the couch, noting that Joel had started another fire. The cabin was well-insulated but it was a nice touch, the soft crackling of the burning wood and kindling, the feel—it was very…appropriate.

You settle into the cushion and finally feel that little slice of comfort you were searching for, feet curled up somewhere beside you with a blanket draped over your lap, book flipped open to the beginning.

This felt perfect. Or close to it. You tried to ignore the fact that you weren’t alone, not at all. But, it was damn near close.

And the peace lasts, for an hour, that is.

Turns out, Joel did leave.

To where? No clue. But, he comes in with snow covered boots and a heavy winter coat, cheeks flushed pink and the ghost of his breath appearing in front of him as he stomps his feet out on the doormat. He closes the door before you can offer a protest his way, removing his winter gear layer by layer…

You force your eyes away, rereading the paragraph you were on a few times before you find your place again and continue through the story, face buried in the book as you raise it slightly, left arm slung over the back of the couch as you lick the index finger on your right hand, flipping the page.

Ignore him. It was easy.

But somewhere along the way, Joel appears closer.

“Lord of the Flies?” He looks bemused, puzzled, shocked. Like an expression of—Really? You?

You return the look, even stranger as you tilt the book away from him, noticing the way his hand grips his winter gloves in a tight grasp, eyes shooting up to his face.

“Yeah.” It’s a simple answer, nothing to elaborate about.

He could read—fucking fantastic.

His eyebrows raise in disbelief, but it doesn’t feel antagonizing. “Remember readin’ that when I was young,” He comments, “still holds up?”

“I’d say so,” You respond, offering him the attention he wasn’t inadvertently asking for, “why?”

Joel seems so…lonely. From a glance, at least. He’s got a sadness around his eyes that you never noticed until he had approached you so closely. He was only a few inches away from the back of the couch, just out of reach, and he sways a little on his feet like he favors one leg over the other and he hangs his head ever so slightly.

You weren’t here to question him or even attempt to know him, really—but you can’t help it.

“Just curious,” He settles on, “can’t remember the last time I sat down and read a book, really. Don’t think I’d have the patience for it now either, but y’know…”

You didn’t.

He looks like he wants to say more, but he settles for silence. And, it doesn’t feel weird this time. He retreats a moment later, footsteps echoing throughout the cabin before the question comes to mind, retching itself out of your mouth before you have the consciousness to stop it.

“Wait, how old are you?” You ask curiously, attempting the math on your fingers, back and forth, eyes squinting in confusion as the book falls over your lap and your turn to catch a final glimpse of him.

“Kid, you’re gonna hurt yourself thinkin’ that hard.” Joel jokes lightly, something you haven’t seen before, but then he answers simply, “Fifty-six.”

Oh. Huh.

You nod slowly in response before turning away, burying your head back into the book in an attempt to avoid whatever look comes your way. The click of a door is a sigh of relief as you stop reading entirely, resting the book against your lap as you take a moment.

The snow was falling heavily, blanketing the ground with inches of fluffy white. It beckons the question of why Joel would even traverse out in this weather—or why he would’ve subjected you to this had he forced you back into town and back in a car to the city.

He must’ve liked his loneliness too and here you were, wrecking those plans like he had wrecked yours.

But, maybe this was a good thing.

Maybe you had saved Joel from his own loneliness, unknowingly.

And maybe he had saved you too.

—

As the night winds down, separate dinners aside after Joel allowed you free pickings of whatever was in the kitchen that he brought along with him, you find that the bottle of wine still remained unopened, the note addressed to no one in particular.

Not you or Joel. It was fair game and you’d won.

By now, the sun is long gone and the only light that came through the windows were the twinkling bright lights that hung outside and the flush, orange glow of the never waning fire, like a constant reminder of Joel’s presence in the house. He refreshed it every few hours and you watched as he did so, hunched over as he knelt, sleeves bunched up around his elbows and sometimes shifting completely onto his knees as he replaced the logs or waded up some extra paper to toss in.

You eye the bottle curiously—it was nothing special. A store bought Chardonnay that tasted good enough to enjoy, but it wasn’t something to brag about. If it could get you drunk, it was worth a million bucks.

You rummage around the kitchen until you find an appropriate glass—something wide, deep, and refillable. The tip of the bottle clinks against the glass as you pour, teeth biting as the inside of your cheeks as you decide that…mmm, no, just a little more.

“Bottle ain’t runnin’ from ya.” Joel comments, again to your surprise and it makes you jump, hard. Hard enough that a splash of spirits dampens the front of your shirt and you scowl in the older man’s direction.

“Stop doing that,” You're more than serious, deadly serious. At least, you try to be.

Unfortunately, you’re not at all as threatening as you think you appear to be. And Joel has a glass dangling from his own fingertips, only a sip left of dark brown liquid and you surmise that he had the same idea. A nightcap before bed.

Or, in your case, half a bottle of Chardonnay.

Joel deposits the glass into the sink silently, ignoring how you aggressively dab the front of your shirt with a hand towel to soak up some of the alcohol, like it wasn’t his fault. Inadvertently.

“Are you always that jumpy?” Joel asks after a minute or so, lingering around the edge of the island, tired eyes and even more tired pull of his lips, not quite a smile, not much of a scowl either.

“Forgive me for being a little on edge,” You retort with a sass that, quite frankly, is unwarranted. But, you’re feeling snarky and the moment calls for it, “I’m rooming with a strange man who greeted me with an axe.”

“If I recall, you pointed a knife at me all the same,” Valid point, pointless argument to make against you, though. “And weren’t you the one who put your foot down about stayin’ here?”

Yes, you did.

There’s too long of a silence because, really, you aren’t sure how to cut the tension—and maybe it was one-sided, but you couldn’t help but still retain some anger, some jealousy that you weren’t here alone.

“Alright, so maybe we can’t ignore each other like you want,” Joel explains, in reality it does seem impossible, but you had been hopeful, “doesn’t mean you have to scamper like a cat when you see me.”

Your bottom lip pulls in between your teeth before you’re pressing the glass to your lips and taking a hearty sip, steadfast in your silence.

Joel face contorts in thought, like he’s trying to think out his next few words careful, rubbing a hand through his scruff, speckled with patches of gray throughout, a particular spot just below his ear that his thumb reaches, just at the hinge of his jaw and he rubs.

And, you’re staring again.

Joel doesn’t say anything this time if he does clock it.

“I came out here same as you, enjoyin’ my time alone.” Joel explains, feeling the deep timbre of his voice as he speaks, “I don’t have any intention of tryin’ to hurt you, nothin’ like that. Let’s just…be cordial.”

Even if that meant faking it.

Though, there’s a sincerity to Joel when he speaks that strikes, not often found with the people you’ve met in your life. And you know why you’re being so bitter, so abrasive and biting, but that resolves softens slightly,

Maybe it was the Chardonnay.

When had you finished off the glass?

“Cordial?” You repeat, echoing the sentiment.

“Yeah,” Joel nods, trying to offer up a different definition, “Friendly, polite.”

It’s clear that even despite his aura of loneliness, he seemed to deal with strangers often. You were a stranger to him. It wasn’t the first thing that struck you, so worried about your own safety that you had snuck into his idea of his own territory, now that territory was being shared.

“No, I know what cordial means,” You reply flippantly, a little jaded by the gesture that he felt he needed to explain, “—I just, I was gonna offer you a drink then.”

Even though he very obviously already had his fill of what you can only surmise was bourbon, noting a bottle shoved away on a nearby alcohol designated shelf.

“A gesture,” You lay the sweetness on thick and Joel rolls his eyes half-heartedly, seeing right through you, “of—good faith, I guess. We can forget we were ready to murder each other last night and start fresh.”

“Darlin’, m’not much of a wine man.”

Darlin’. That was new.

You start to realize that when the sun goes down, his regional accent thickens up, forced out by exhaustion but it’s nice, comforting almost. It reminds you of back home, despite your lack of enthusiasm of being around your family, it gives you the hope that maybe you and Joel aren’t all that different from each other.

“Then, just sit.” You shrug, nodding toward the small table for two squished in the corner of the alcove, right beside a cushioned seat buried in the shape of the hexagonal wall, window view as far as your eyes could reach, distance buried in a thick bush of trees but if you squint hard enough, you can see another cabin off in the distance. The cabin you should’ve booked, but couldn’t.

Maybe this was your own personal reckoning.

Much to your surprise, Joel does take a seat.

When you’re both finally seated, comfortable, you ask the first question:

“Where are you from?” You ask curiously.

Forward, that’s for sure. Joel could respect it, but still has a reaction to remain taken aback.

“Come on, you can lie and I wouldn’t know any better,” You remind him, “fine, I’m from Austin, born and raised.”

Joel’s chin hits his sternum as he chuckles, looking away briefly off into the distance and you laugh a little in response, confused.

“What? Is that funny or something?”

“No, no—I’m…I’m also from Austin,” He admits, the likelihood not impossible but it is surely a fucking coincidence, “lived there my whole life.”

Well, maybe you’ve crossed paths before, but Austin was a big city and it seemed unlikely.

Your eyes narrow, attempting to read him. It’s more of a gag at your expense, watching as he looks just as skeptical of you, brown eyes examining your face as intently as he could. You have to ignore the feeling to shrink under his gaze, intense and all-encompassing, it feels suffocating, but not in a way that makes you want to escape.

It wasn’t like that at all. In fact, it was welcoming. Like a safety blanket. He blinks once, twice, speaks when things grow awkward—

“I’m not…lyin’,” Joel admits, “that isn’t a lie.”

“You’re not supposed to tell me, Joel.”

Joel cracks a half-smile, wrestling with the aching joints in his hands as he squeezes his hands together, hands that have been through things, surely: hard work, years of labor, covered with small scars from burns and scrapes, you can only assume.

“The whole idea is that…we don’t know each other. We aren’t going to see each other after this,” You tell him, curled up in the chair, wine glass resting on your knee and a fist nudged up under your chin, “you could tell me your deepest, darkest secrets and it wouldn’t matter because I’m not supposed to know if you’re lying or not.”

“So, if I ask you what someone like you is doin’ out here during the holidays instead of where you should be—with family or kids your age, what’ll you tell me?” Joel asks curiously, taking the bait and returning it with a challenge.

You have no reason to tell the truth. But, you also don’t have a reason to lie.

“My family is suffocating.” You shrug indifferently, “They helicopter my life and I didn’t want to face it this Christmas, so I fed them some story and booked a trip out here for the month.”

His eyes soften and you have to hide your reaction behind a sip of your wine, knowing that any sympathy sent your way was not welcomed. You didn’t want it or need it.

“Am I allowed to ask about the story?” Joel questions.

It’s almost surprising, seeing him suddenly interested in your game.

You giggle quietly to yourself, lips pressed against the wine glass before you pull it away briefly.

“They think I’m out here with a super secret boyfriend that I refuse to introduce to them.”

He can see how cheeky you’re being about the whole thing, seemingly relishing in the enjoyment of torturing your parents. You’ve got your eyes on him too, staring at him again. He’s noticed it one too many times.

Dangerous. It’s dangerous. Again, he doesn’t stop you.

His breathing is calm, solid—he’s settled in his seat and relaxed, something you haven’t had the chance to witness. Joel is so…normal. It reminds you that in any other circumstance, if you had met him at a store or somewhere in town, that you wouldn’t spare him a second glance. He’s handsome, sickeningly so. But, you would’ve passed him up without a thought. He would’ve done the same.

For…different reasons, perhaps.

But, these were special circumstances.

You note how his hair is probably a little outgrown, curling around his ears and a deep, deep brown. Almost black but not quite. He doesn’t seem like a guy who styles his hair, allows it to lay how it pleases and doesn’t fuss much over his looks. But, the longer you look, the more mesmerizing he becomes. There’s a tan line on his wrist from what you can only assume is a watch, but he isn’t wearing it now—he must work in the sun, noting the way he’s sunkissed on just about every other part of his exposed body, up to the beginnings of scruff that starts below his chin, near his neck. His toned arms that could definitely swing an axe without a problem. You don’t linger on his legs for even a second, knowing that even for you it would be too far. But, he crosses them at the thought, like a cue—or a tease. Was he….

No.

You continue idly, trying to mask yourself like you were lost in thought, tracing a finger around the lip of the wine glass, “If they knew the truth, they’d shit themselves all the same.”

Joel chuckles softly, a low grumble that is barely audible.

“Spendin’ your Christmas with an old man, half your age. I’m sure that’ll comfort ‘em well.”

He never asked, only assumed. But, basing it off your evident naivety, he couldn’t be far off.

“Eh..give or take a couple years.” You shrug, resting the glass on the table and crossing your arms. “They’ve always treated me like a kid, always questioning my decisions. I just wanted one holiday without it. Without…anything, really.”

Joel looks away, like the thought of that stings him, burrows at him in a different way. You want to ask, but refrain, no matter how strong the urge.

“Sorry ‘bout that, darlin’.”

And there it was again.

You can’t fight the small smile that works its way onto your face despite yourself.

Joel doesn’t understand, looking at you inquisitively, something he’s become used to around you in the short time he’s been here, “What?”

“Darlin’.” You mock his southern draw playfully, echoing his deep voice despite your differing pitches, “Reminds me of home.”

“Jus’ slips out from time to time,” Joel admits, “I’m sorry.”

“Don’t be,” You assure him with a more welcoming smile, “I don’t mind.”

Joel shakes his head in tired amusement, rubbing his fingertips against the worry lines in his forehead before they shift down his face and you can see the exhaustion in his face. He doesn’t look well-rested at all, not even on a vacation meant for that exact reason. You feel guilty now, keeping him up into the late hours of the night for your own entertainment. He looks away again, off toward something that your eyes don’t follow.

You moved rather silently as you stood, picking up your mess and stowing the bottle away in the fridge returning to bid a goodnight to Joel, who was no longer much of a stranger anymore. But, he’s already asleep—somewhere between the time it took you to clean up and put away the alcohol, he had passed out.

He’d stayed up for you, noting how soundlessly he slept now.

You don’t have the heart to wake him up, quickly assess your surroundings and find the thick hand-woven blanket resting over the back of the couch and pick it up, draping it over him carefully. He doesn’t shift an inch, cheek resting against a close fist, the other hand closed just as tight where it rests in his lap, seeming like he was always on guard, even in his sleep. You’ve never been more intrigued by a stranger, even if this was fleeting and foolish, you wanted to understand him. And as much as Joel was trying to fight it, he wanted to understand you too.

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