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#- i say as i gaze upon this fandom
jokeringcutio · 4 months
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Stepdad! William Afton x Reader – ‘Boyfriend’ (SMUT)
Summary: You bring home a boy. Your mother is excited. Your stepdad…not so. Cue to stepdad William Afton staking his claim and reminding you who you truly belong to.
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Fandom: FNAF (inspired by the movie verse) Pairing: William Afton x Reader Rating: Explicit Warnings: Explicit Sexual Content (SMUT), Age difference, Older man x Younger woman, stepdad x daughter!reader, dub-con, implied con, taboofic, spanking, fingering, cunnilingus, p in v sex, secret!sex, jealousy!, threats, hair pulling, unsafe sex, creampie, breeding!kink implied, infidelity, implied established stepdadxreader, William Afton is not a nice man, William Afton is a bad dad.
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Boyfriend
Flashing him an encouraging smile, you stepped into the warmth of your home, the chill from the outside air dissipating. Your mother bustled about in the kitchen, the familiar scents of her cooking enveloping you like a comforting embrace. As she turned to greet you, her gaze fell upon Sam, who stood just behind you.
"Mom," you said, motioning towards the young man beside you. "Remember Sam?"
Sam was undeniably handsome; his blond hair framed a chiseled face adorned with bright green eyes that seemed to capture every bit of light in the room. His tall frame filled out the doorway, exuding a quiet strength that immediately caught your mother's attention. Her eyes twinkled as she looked him over.
"Nice to meet you,” Sam said politely, extending a hand that your mother eagerly shook. Her eyes traced over his broad shoulders and the white toothy smile.
"You are on the football team, aren’t you?" she replied warmly, her excitement barely contained.
“I am,” Sam confirmed, his smile broadening, reminiscing you of ancient statues of Greek Heroes and Gods. He was picture-perfect. Just the right type of boy to take home to impress your mother with.
"Actually, Mom," you hesitated for just a moment before continuing, voice shy and eyelashes fluttering, "Sam and I are dating.”
"Really?" Her eyes widened, a grin spreading across her face. "Oh, how wonderful!" She clapped her hands together in delight.
“Your daughter is a gem,” Sam said smoothly, words slipping out like velvet. You could just see how your mother seemed to approve of him.
He placed his bag on the kitchen counter and seemed to look around for something, then his eyes traveled to you, a question within them. You tried to suppress a grin and shook your head, and Sam’s eyes traced back to your mom.
"Excuse me," Sam said, "Can I use the…?”
"Of course, dear." Your mother pointed down the hallway. "Second door on the right."
As soon as he disappeared from sight, your mother pulled you into a tight hug. "So spill, when did this happen? Didn’t you tell me you didn’t like that boy?”
“Just today,” you said with a small grin. “And perhaps I changed my mind. Try and date. Like someone kept nagging I should.”
“Finally,” your mom said, raising her palms in the air. “I have been praying you would go on a date, even if it was just once. You really need to get some experience. And Sam seems… nice.”
“I know,” you said, tongue pressing against the back of your teeth pensively. “He’s not my type…”
“I wasn’t going to say that,” your mother said hesitatingly, though you could tell she had been thinking it. Then she flashed you another smile and gently placed her hand on top of yours. “I am happy you are finally crawling out of your shell. You’re a pretty girl,” at this you scrunched your nose and she caught sight of it, “yes, you are. Even if you think differently.”
Then she let go of your hand and let out a happy sigh. “Oh, I remember when I was your age.”
You rolled your eyes as you both said, “Dated a new boy each week.”
You looked at your mom and you both laughed. “I know, mom,” you said. “I know. But I’m not like that.”
“I know,” she replied with a gentle smile, her head resting on her hands and her elbows leaning on the kitchen counter as she looked at you. “I'm so happy for you, sweetheart! He seems like a great guy."
You couldn't help but smile. "He really is, Mom."
Sam returned to the kitchen, a sheepish grin on his face, and you both settled down at the table to work on your homework assignment. Your mother, sensing that you two might want some time alone, gave you both a teasing smile.
"If you get hungry you may take from these,” she gestured at the food she’d been making. “I'll be working in the attic if you need anything," she said before exiting the kitchen.
Sam eyed the snacks your mother had been making and picked one up, taking a bite. You followed his example.
The assignment before you was boring, and quite soon both of you were sighing. You noticed how Sam was moving closer to you with every opportunity he got, brushing an arm against you or a leg. It was exactly why you had chosen to date him. You just knew he would make a move and never took schoolwork seriously. He was that type of guy. Hands-on. Thinking of one thing only.
"God, I hate this assignment," Sam mumbled as he flipped through his textbook, his green eyes filled with annoyance.
"Tell me about it," you agreed, rubbing your temples. "Let's take a break and put on some music."
"Great idea." Sam pulled out his phone and connected it to a small speaker. Soon, the sultry sounds of bachata filled the air, and you couldn't help but sway along to the rhythm.
"Come on," Sam stood up, offering you his hand. "Let's dance."
You grinned, taking his hand and allowing him to lead you into the dance. His strong arms guided you effortlessly, the heat between you two palpable as your bodies moved in sync. The world around you seemed to fade away as you lost yourself in the music and Sam's embrace.
The sound of a door slamming shut jolted you back to reality and you looked straight into the fury blue eyes of your father.
William Afton, your stepfather, stood in the doorway, his face twisted with anger. You immediately felt a knot of fear tighten in your stomach.
"Uh, hi Dad," you stammered, trying to sound casual even as your heart raced.
"Who is this?" he growled, his cold blue eyes narrowing as they fixed on Sam. Pretty young boy. Everything the opposite of what he was.
"Th-this is Sam," you replied, your voice trembling slightly. "He's my boyfriend." Not quite, but dating counted, right?
"Boyfriend?" William sneered, his distaste evident. "And that makes this okay? You think I'd let something like this happen under my roof?"
"Sir, we were just—" Sam began, only to be cut off by the sharp, icy glare William shot him.
"Enough," William snapped, his tone making it clear that there would be no further discussion. You could see Sam's jaw clench in frustration, but he wisely held his tongue.
You forced yourself to take a calming breath and lowered your gaze submissively. "I'm sorry, Dad," you murmured, hoping that would be enough to placate him for now.
William's lips curled into a sneer as he paced the room, his anger radiating in waves. "You're too young to be dating," he spat, his words like venom. "Don’t know what you’re getting into, do you? So eager for a boy’s cock."
You felt your cheeks flushed and shyly stared at the floor, letting your stepdad’s words wash over you like waves.
“And you,” he then said, aiming his fully attention at Sam now. “I know your type. Think you can seduce a naïve young girl, fuck her on your cock once and then throw her aside like a cheap whore. Laugh about it afterward with your friends. You think my daughter’s easy like that?”
Sam shifted uncomfortably under the weight of William's gaze, visibly shrinking back from him. You felt your cheeks burn with humiliation, wanting nothing more than to disappear.
"Maybe your mother thinks it's cute," William continued, turning back to you again, his voice dripping with disdain. "But I know better. She'd love to see you become a whore, wouldn't she?"
"Hey, that's not fair—" Sam started to protest, but a single raised hand from William silenced him.
"Enough." The word was barely more than a growl, and it sent shivers down your spine. You couldn't help but feel betrayed by Sam's inability to defend you, even as you knew that standing up to William was like trying to stop a hurricane with an umbrella.
"Look," Sam muttered, avoiding your eyes. "I should go. We can finish the homework later, or something."
And it was exactly this something that had the hope inside if your tummy plummeting. As Sam rushed to your front door, you followed him with featherlight steps.
Somehow this was what you had expected of him. All tough and popular in school, but when facing a bigger man he would shrink away.
It irked you that he didn’t even try to stand up for you, that he accepted this defeat without so much as turning to your dad and telling him off. Nope, he just went to the door. Left you to your dad. Coward.
You slammed your hand on the door before he could open it, forcing him to lock eyes with you.
"Wait," you whispered. "Why didn't you say anything? Why didn't you stand up for me?"
"Your dad,” Sam spoke through gritted teeth but hesitated, as if he were uncertain why he even had this conversation with you. At the end of the hallway, you could feel your stepdad’s towering presence, heavy and dark.
Like a shadow watching over the two of you.
“Your dad’s just...too much for me," Sam finally admitted, his voice tense. He paused and looked at you. "I'm sorry."
"Stepfather," you corrected him softly, feeling a strange mixture of relief and disappointment. "He's my stepfather."
Sam shrugged, his bag on his back, the zipper open still, showing the folders and maps you were supposed to be working on.
"Either way, I don't want to be around him." With that, Sam stepped out the door, leaving you alone to face the storm that was William Afton.
You slowly turned around, the shape of your stepfather like a dark shadow at the end of the hall. The displeased curve of his lips was visible from where you stood.
He only needed to point a finger to the floor, signaling that you had to return to him. No words were needed. Step after careful step, you walked closer, entering the room before he closed the door behind you.
“Well now,” the words came out low and rasped as your stepdad placed his large hand on the small of your back, guiding you back to the kitchen table before roughly pushing you toward it. You tumbled over by the sheer force, chest pressed against the cold wood as items that had still been on the table now clattered to the floor.
Strong hands moved past your hips, pulling your pants and panties down in one swift motion, exposing your neither regions. Cold air brushed past your skin and you subdued a shudder.
"You think it's okay to bring someone else home, hmm?" William asked, his voice cold. "Think I wouldn't find out?"
"Dad, I-" you began to protest, but he cut you off.
"Quiet." He didn't give you a chance to respond before he delivered the first spank, sharp and sudden. You gasped at the mix of pain and pleasure that shot through your body. His hands were big, even against the supple flesh of your ass.
"Count," he instructed, his breath heavy.
“One,” you said, words forced out through gritted teeth. Another slap, the stinging slightly fiercer than before. Your hands curled into fists in front of you, trying to support your weight on your elbows as you stood bent forward over the table. Another smack. “Two.”
You heard the deep breathing of your stepdad as it increased. He was getting excited. “You brat,” you heard him murmur in between slaps. The stinging increasingly becoming worse, the pain a delightful pleasure that made you hum.
“It’s clear Dad here has got to teach you a lesson not to be such a little slut,” each of those final words was punctuated by another firm slap to your buttocks, making you see stars and wheeze with pleasureful pain.
You whimpered out the numbers, bracing yourself for another smack. As the spanking continued, your cheeks burned and your arousal grew. There was something thrilling about being at his mercy, about submitting entirely to him.
Finally, your stepdad stopped, and you waited in anticipation for another slap. But it didn’t come. Instead, you felt his strong hands massaging your tender flesh. His fingers, rough from years of working on animatronics, sent shivers down your spine as he caressed your sensitive skin, separating your now sore cheeks and pushing them back together again.
"Such a pretty little thing, aren't you?" he purred, his hot breath fanning across your wet pussy. You could tell by the tone of his voice that he'd gotten exactly what he wanted, and it both terrified and excited you. He leaned down, his tongue teasing your slit before he captured your clit between his teeth, sending a jolt of pleasure through your body.
"Dad," you moaned, unable to contain yourself any longer. He hummed in response, his lips working expertly on your most sensitive spot. The nibbling the flick of his tongue to your sensitive clit, it was all too much, and you had to bite the back of your hand in order to keep from crying out loud. Suppose your mom would hear.
No, she could never find out!
Chapped lips curved against your sensitive sticky-wet skin. The little hairs of his beard tickled you as William continued to pleasure you with his mouth. You felt a familiar tension building within you. Desperate for release, you wriggled on the table, wishing you could somehow grasp his hair and urge him on. But he held your hips tightly in his hands, grip strong enough to create finger-shaped bruises, his head buried between your legs. All you could to was squirm against the table, wishing you could see him as he ate you out.
"Please," you begged, the sound nearly a sob. William chuckled darkly, slipping his fingers inside you and curling them just right. It was all too much – the pressure, the pleasure, the pain – and suddenly, you were falling apart, your orgasm washing over you in a tidal wave of sensation.
Your body trembled, pussy pulsing wildly around his finger and tongue, slick gushing forward and into his awaiting mouth, coating his lips.
As he withdraw, you heard a dark chuckle. Your world spun and slowly got back into focus, and you realized you were still on the table, your weight resting on your elbows as you stared at the photographs of your family hanging on the wall.
You were grateful that the table supported you, because your legs were shaking and you didn’t think you could stand on your own right now.
"Good girl," William praised, his voice low and dangerous as he withdrew his fingers from your quivering core. As you lay there, catching your breath, you could feel the lingering pulse of your orgasm still radiating through your body. But William wasn't finished with you yet.
"Stay bent over," he commanded, his voice rough and demanding. You obeyed, anticipation causing a shiver to run down your spine. The sound of his zipper being undone filled the room, and you couldn't help but feel both nervous and excited for what was about to happen.
"Such a tight little pussy," he growled as he positioned himself behind you, one hand gripping your hip while the other tangled in your hair. He pulled you back, forcing you to arch your back even more as his cock pressed against your entrance.
"Please," you whimpered, desperate for him.
"Who do you belong to?" he asked, his voice dark and dangerous.
"Y-you," you stuttered, feeling your face flush with embarrassment.
"Say it," he demanded.
"I belong to you, Daddy."
"Good girl," he praised before thrusting into you without warning, his cock splitting you open and filling you completely. A gasp tore from your throat as you struggled to adjust to his size, but William didn't give you any time to recover. He set a brutal pace, pounding into you like an animal, his grip on your hair keeping you in place.
"Fuck, you're so perfect," he snarled, his breath hot on your neck. His words sent a shudder through you, and you couldn't help but push back against him, wanting to take him deeper.
"Harder, please," you begged, needing to feel his complete control.
"Greedy little thing," he chuckled, somehow managing to drive into you even harder. "You love this, don't you?"
You parted your lips to answer, the feelings overwhelming you. But he was quicker.
“Quiet,” he snarled in your ear, “We don’t want your mother to hear what we’re doing here, do we?”
Hard as it was, you managed a nod – even with the way he kept a grip tightly on your hair. Your body ached for him, and every thrust of his hips seemed to drive you further under his spell.
"Tell me who you're gonna fuck from now on," he demanded, his voice a low growl.
"Only you, Daddy."
"Damn right," he muttered as he continued to pound into you, each thrust making your body shudder with pleasure. You felt the firm outline of his hips, the softness of his belly pressing against your back as he thrust inside of you. It shouldn’t feel so sinful, but it did. Your much older stepfather was making you feel so good, that it dazed you.
You could feel another orgasm building, but before you could reach that peak, William's grip on your hair tightened as his own release approached.
"Fuck!" he snarled, his hips slamming into you one last time as he came, filling you with his hot seed. His grip changed on you while you cried out, walls fluttering around his hard shaft. His hand on your hip and the one pulling your hair ensured that you were pulled flushed against him, making sure he stayed buried deep inside for just a little longer than needed while your cunt pulsed around him.
Slowly, your vision started to stabilize again. The warped pictures on the wall came back into focus and your pussy’s grip on his cock became looser, not pulsing as frequently as your body started to relax.
His panting breaths filled the room as he slowly pulled out, releasing your hair from his grip.
“Now, what do you say?” you heard his low voice rumble as you slumped forward on the table, catching your breath.
"Thank you, Daddy," you murmured, feeling the slick escape from the depths of your core, sliding all the way down your legs. You slowly got up and pushed yourself away from the table, facing William.
He stood a few feet behind you, his pants resting on his hips, cock and balls proudly on display. Liquid coated his softening shaft, and you watched entranced as he started to tuck it back inside his pants before zipping his fly.
You followed his example, bending over to pull your pants up, wincing at the discomfort you felt deep inside your core where he had been battering your cervix without a care in the world. You prayed your mother wouldn’t walk in right now, but luckily, she didn’t.
When you were presentable enough again – making sure your hair wasn’t quite the mess and ignoring the cold sticky liquid that ran down the inside of your thigh – you took a step closer to your stepdad.
“Mr. Afton,” you said, knowing he liked it when you addressed him so formally. And it worked. You saw the spark in his blue eyes. Licking your lips, closed the distance between you, standing on your tiptoes to give him a gentle kiss.
Once the kiss broke, your eyes met his blue ones. The pupils so dilated they seemed almost black.
“That’s better,” your stepfather said, his hand resting on the small of your back, keeping you close to him whilst towering over you. Just the height of him made you feel small, but then there was that gaze and the firm tone he used when he spoke to you. So demanding, so in control.
"Remember," he warned, his eyes dark and intense. "I don’t ever want to see you take another boy home again, or the consequences will be far beyond anything you can ever imagine.”
As a spark lit off in your eyes, he caught sight of it and his grip on you tightened. The corners of his lips pulled into a tight line. “I am serious, do not challenge me on this one. It is unlike what you are thinking of.”
And somehow, those words brought with them a sense of danger that made you actually feel cold on the inside, like he wasn’t threatening to fuck you hard as a punishment, but that he was threatening whatever man you might want to take home in future times. Like a death sentence. Would he kill them?
“You're mine, and I don't share," he rasped.
You nodded, your heart racing at his possessiveness. Somehow, it felt both terrifying and thrilling to be so completely claimed by this dangerous, powerful man.
And as you looked into his eyes, you knew your plan had worked.
“I promise to be good for you, Dad,” you said, words a whisper.
He let go just in time before the door flung open and your mother entered the room.
“Ah, sweetheart, you’re back,” she said, bright smile on her face as she walked over to give William a hug and a kiss on his lips. His blue eyes darted past her to meet yours and you quickly glanced aside.
Once they broke apart, your mother turned toward you. “Where’s Sam?” And then a frown formed on her face as she sniffed the air. She must have been quick in recognizing the scent and deducing what must have happened, for you could see her lips curl into a small smile and her eyes twinkle,
“Well, at least I hope you’ve used protection,” she muttered as she brushed past you to return to the snacks she prepared earlier in the kitchen.
“Want a taste of something sweet,” she curiously asked your stepdad, holding up one of the plates with prepared snacks.
William’s grin widened. “Oh,” he murmured, “I think I already have.”
~ Fin ~
AN: I am open for prompts. Want to read more? Why not check my masterlist, I write a lot of reader-inserts, including x William Afton, Arthur Fleck, The Grabber, Arthur Harrow, Severus Snape, and many more. ~
Taglist: @likoplays @2pacl0ve
AN: For more, follow me (:
~~ Support me on Ko-Fi - Masterlist - Request Box ~~
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thot-of-khonshu · 6 months
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bell bottom blues (joel miller x f!reader)
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Masterlist | Ko-Fi
Summary: you're the town seamstress and you've had a crush on joel miller for ages. when he gifts you a pair of bell bottoms, you go to his house and finally confess your feelings leading to a night of whiskey and fun. Inspired by the song 'bell bottom blues' by eric clapton/derek and the dominos
Rating: M, 18+
Word count: 6.5K
Content: a fluffy smut, if you will. shy joel, joel playing guitar, age gap (20+ years), pining, miscommunication, alcohol use, dirty talk, fingering, oral (f and m receiving), unprotected sex, creampie
A/N: I've been on a bit of a writing hiatus due to work and personal obligations, plus some fandom drama. but when the bug calls, the bug calls. I hope you guys enjoy and remember to like and reblog! <3
“God I wish I had her tits.” You bemoaned, raking through an old magazine. You found it with a film of dust in the safety hideout you had all primarily used when patrolling and you just couldn’t keep your eyes away from it.
“Way to keep your eye on what’s important.” Your watch partner, Joel, deadpanned while surveying the area.
“It’s my break time so no judgment, old man.” You looked up at him from the couch you were sitting on. The door was open to let in the cool fall air and so you could converse with Joel. “I didn’t say anything when you brought your guee-tar on our last watch together.”
"Very funny." Joel drawled. "But I don't seem to recall you complainin' much when I played "Blackbird"."
You huffed, a little smile pulling at the corner of your lips as you turned the page. "That's because it's a good song."
He grinned to himself, looking out the window again. "It sure is."
You two fell into a comfortable silence while you continued to read your magazine. That was the best part about patrol days with Joel, he was a great listener and you felt comfortable confiding in him.
When he had originally shown back up to Jackson with his kind-of-daughter Ellie, nobody had really known what to make of him. You'd heard stories from your community's leader Maria since she was married to his brother, Tommy, but she had never actually met him until they had stumbled upon the commune for the first time. As far as Tommy's advice on what to make of him? "Give him some space but make sure you get to know him. He's not as bad as he might come across."
You hadn't understood at the time what he meant by that but after spending more time with him around the town you had started to figure him out. For instance, he was a great listener, a hard worker, and had a very dry sense of humor. Also, he was incredibly handsome in a rough-around-the-edges type of way. You two had fallen into a comfortable friendship whenever you'd seen each other around or had to patrol together. In the world before the outbreak, you couldn't have imagined being friendly with a man twenty years your senior. But that was the world before the outbreak, you thought, smiling a bit to yourself.
"You got something good there, darlin'?"
You glanced up at him, your heart jumping at the sudden noise after the quiet for the past half hour. You could feel a blush crawling up your neck.
"Uh, not really." You flipped the page, trying to play it cool. "I just like to look at the models and dream."
Joel turned his head to look at you, one brow raised. "Dream, huh?"
"Yup. I mean look at these bright fabrics and patterns. Can you imagine having a wardrobe with any of these colors in it?" You held up the page you were on, showing Joel the vibrant pink dress the model was wearing. It was a halter top with tight jeans and a flare at the end and the woman's long, dark hair cascaded down her shoulders. The image made you ache for a world that was long gone.
"God, I would kill for those jeans." You moaned.
"They're called bell bottoms." Joel corrected you.
You sat up, your mouth dropping open. "How did you know that?!"
He smirked at you, returning his gaze out the window. "I wasn't always an old man, ya know. I used to wear them back in the day."
"No shit?"
"No shit." He confirmed, chuckling a bit. "I was about ten when I wore 'em but those were the style back in the day. I think I had a pair in green."
You stared at him in amazement. "Can you imagine that? Green bell bottoms?"
Joel's face turned into a grimace. "More of my momma's fashion choice for Tommy and me."
You smiled fondly. "If I had a pair like these I'd stich them up and wear them out to the bar. I can't believe they made things like this."
Besides patrolling, you had also used your skills in the commune with clothing and it was no secret which one you preferred. You loved taking old, worn, and ragged pieces of clothing and fixing them up to give them a new life. The thought of being able to take something that was broken and give it new meaning and purpose was exciting and thrilling.
"You've got quite a talent, y'know. Those clothes you make look like you took them right outta the magazine." Joel said, glancing over at you. "You should be proud of yourself."
You smiled at him, tucking a strand of hair behind your ear. "Thanks, Joel. It's nice of you to say."
"Well, it's the truth."
The sound of a twig snapping approaching made the both of you jump. You sprung up and grabbed your gun. Joel was already at the door, looking out the window.
"What is it?" You asked, your hand steady on the gun.
"It's a damn deer." He said, shaking his head.
"Thank god." You sighed. You placed your gun down and joined him at the window, looking out to see the animal. The deer was grazing and seemed unconcerned about the two of you. You watched it move with a sense of tranquility and ease.
"You scared?"
You glanced up at him. His brow was creased and his lips were drawn. You realized this was the first time you'd ever been this close to Joel Miller. You took a moment to study his features. At first glance, his eyes, dark and deep, are the most captivating. They have the kind of depth that has his entire story - joy, sorrow, and everything in between. You've seen them twinkle with mischief specifically with Tommy and Ellie, and cold and impenetrable when talking to someone he doesn't particularly like.
He's got the faintest scars, a reminder of the life he lived before Jackson, and a smattering of freckles on his chest that are barely visible. You can see the fine wrinkles on his forehead and around his eyes and wonder how many times he's smiled in his lifetime and how many more smiles you could give him.
He calls your name. You shake your head, breaking yourself out of the fantasy. "No. Should I be?"
"Nah. Not with me here." He smiled.
Your stomach clenched, and you felt heat creep up the back of your neck. He kept his eyes on you, searching for a reaction.
"We should probably finish our watch." You said, tearing yourself away from the moment.
Joel stood there, unmoving. He was studying you. A silly little girl with a stupid crush, you thought. You could feel his stare but ignored it, picking up your weapon and returning to the couch.
"We should." He finally agreed.
And as much as you wanted to focus, you couldn't help but continue to study Joel when your nose wasn't in the magazine.
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Joel should've known you weren't interested.
You were young, beautiful, talented, and easy-going. Even from the first day he was back in Jackson he could see the way people were drawn to you. When you walked up and talked to him for the first time he was surprised there were still people out there that were still so friendly and warm. He was so used to being the suspicious asshole, the guy who always had a plan and a reason for being, but not with you. You'd just come up and started chatting him up like he was one of your good friends, expecting nothing in return.
That's the thing about you that's always amazed him. You don't expect anything. He doesn't have to go out of his way to prove his worth to you or show you what a good man he can be. You just trust him.
When the two of you got closer than you ever had on that afternoon patrol, Joel felt a stirring in his gut he hadn't felt since Tess. The tightness in his pants was a sign, too. An unfortunate sign at the time you were supposed to be patrolling for clickers but a sign nonetheless. He'd noticed the way you'd looked at him as you watched the deer. He wasn't that old, yet. He could still recognize a spark when he saw it.
But he also saw the way other men in town looked at you. Men closer to your age, men with more to offer. Men without all the baggage and darkness and secrets. Men who could treat you right.
So, he buried the spark and kept you as his friend. It was better that way.
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"Look alive, you old fucker." Tommy nudged Joel's arm, walking up to the abandoned house. They were doing a scouting mission in the outskirts of Jackson. There had been a small group of raiders spotted the night before by a patrol.
"I'm more than alive. I'm kicking your ass."
Tommy rolled his eyes, smiling. "Sure. Keep telling yourself that."
They both pulled out their guns, ready to clear the place.
"You ready?" Tommy whispered, nodding towards the door.
"Yep." Joel responded, grabbing the doorknob and opening it.
It was a pretty standard scene for a raider's camp. There were blood splatters on the floor, bullet casings, and empty cans everywhere. Joel had seen it many times before and he was certain Tommy had too.
"It's like a fucking pigsty." Tommy remarked, walking towards the stairs.
"No kiddin'." Joel responded, looking around. "I don't think anyone's here."
"Let's check the upstairs and then head home. I wanna tell Maria about this."
They checked each room upstairs. Most of the bedrooms were empty, except for one. The last room they had to check had the door locked.
"What's this?" Tommy said.
"Let's break it open." Joel suggested.
"No. We'll try to pick the lock."
"Fine." Joel said, crouching down and grabbing Ellie's bobby pin he always carried. "This won't take long."
Joel inserted the bobby pin into the keyhole, moving it around to jiggle the mechanism inside. After a minute or two he opened the door.
"Well, that's not what I was expectin'." Joel said.
"Were you expectin' blood and guts?" Tommy responded, raising his eyebrows.
"Yeah, pretty much."
The brothers surveyed the bedroom. There was dust swirling in the air and a thick layer on every surface. It looked like the room had been abandoned for a while. A queen sized bed sat against the wall with a nightstand beside it. A dresser and a full length mirror were in the corner.
"We should still check everything out, just in case." Tommy motioned Joel into the room.
They searched the area and found nothing but the normal. They were almost done when Tommy found the closet.
"What do we have here?" He said, pulling the doors open.
"Just some clothes." Joel said.
"Looks like we've got a few treasures. What's that?" Tommy pointed at the back of the closet.
Joel pushed some clothes aside and a pair of jeans with a flair at the bottom fell to the ground. "Bell bottoms."
"Well, I'll be." Tommy smiled. "Do you remember these things?"
"Yeah." Joel replied, immediately remembering your conversation.
"What're those doing all the way out here?"
"Probably left behind by the original owners." Joel mused. Without hesitation, he grabbed the pants and tucked them under his arm.
Tommy turned and looked at him, his brow furrowing. "What're you doin' with those?"
"Gonna bring 'em home."
"To who?" Tommy had a shit-eating grin on his face. "Last time I checked those ain't really Ellie's style. I could think of someone who might be able to fix those up, though."
Joel's gaze shot to his brother. He glared at him. "Don't you dare."
Tommy raised his hands, surrendering. "All right, all right. I won't say a word. But I'm sure she'll love 'em. You could bring her a goddamn necklace full of teeth and she'd love it because it's from you."
Joel's heart raced at the implication. "What're you talkin' about?"
Tommy rolled his eyes. "Jesus Christ, Joel. Let's just get outta here so you can give her the goddamn pants."
------------------
Joel stood outside of the door to your house, the bell bottoms neatly folded in his hand. He could hear you rustling around inside and was nervous to knock.
"You can do this, old man." He told himself.
He knocked on the door, a quick rapping sound, and stepped back.
A second later, the door opened, and his face dropped. You hadn't answered the door. Instead, it was Nick, a tall, handsome young man who works at the stables. He had the kind of face that Joel used to see in cheesy teen movies he would bring Sarah to see. He had a strong jawline, sandy blonde hair, and broad shoulders. He looked at Joel and then down to the pants.
"Can I help you, Mr. Miller?"
Mr. Miller. Jesus Christ.
"Uh...." Christ and he couldn't even find his words. "I came by to uh..."
"Joel?" Your voice cut through his thoughts. He could see the confusion on Nick's face when you walked up. You smiled at Joel warmly, like a ray of sunshine. "Hi."
"Hey, darlin'." Joel smiled, his nerves disappearing.
"What are you doing here?"
"Oh, I was just bringing these by." He said, holding out the pants to you. "I, uh, found 'em and thought maybe you could work some of your magic."
Your face lit up. "These are bell bottoms! Are you serious? Where did you find these?"
Joel could feel the smirk tugging at his lips. "Out and about. Tommy and I cleared a place the other day and found 'em."
"Joel, this is incredible!" You looked at him, your face shining with excitement as you went in to hug him. He was frozen, the warmth and scent of your body enveloping him. "I can't wait to get started."
"I'm glad you're happy."
You pulled away, giving him a quick smile before turning back to Nick. Joel could see his face drop a bit, and his stomach tightened.
"You can keep them here and work on them tomorrow. We've got a dinner date tonight." Nick said, wrapping his arm around your waist and pulling you close. Your eyes remained on Joel, though and your hands stayed at your sides.
Joel's chest ached. You were going on a date. With Nick. A boy, not a man. And not him.
"I, uh, don't want to hold ya'll up." Joel said, taking a step back. "Enjoy your night."
"Thanks, Joel." You said. He could feel you studying his face.
"Yes, thank you, sir." Nick added.
Joel nodded, turned, and walked away.
------------------
"....and then nobody else could catch that thing but there I was, deep into the lake with that fucking fish." Nick said, taking another sip of his drink. "I had no idea how I was gonna catch it but I couldn't let it go. So, I just dove in after it."
Nick was going on and on about some story that you couldn't even remember how it was brought up In the first place. You just knew Nick liked to talk about himself. A lot.
A lot of girls in Jackson had liked Nick. He was young, handsome, charming, and worked hard. He had the potential to be a catch for any single woman, but that didn't mean he was yours.
But then he showed up on your doorstep earlier that day with a charming smile and asked to come In. He'd told you he was interested in you and wanted to get to know you better. You were hesitant, especially considering the feelings you had for someone else, but you'd also remembered what had happened on your last patrol with Joel. You knew you couldn't compare with an older, sophisticated woman that might come his way one day. So, you accepted. What's the point in waiting on a fantasy?
You excused yourself to go to the bathroom when you'd heard someone knock on your door and Nick open it. You were annoyed at the immediate audacity he had to open your door without asking but then heard a familiar voice. Joel's.
You rushed out of the bathroom to see him standing there with fabric on his arm.
"These are bell bottoms!" You'd said excitedly. "Are you serious?"
And when you went to hug him, his body was tense and frozen. But the smell of him, a mix of pine and tobacco, filled your nostrils. And for a brief moment you'd imagined yourself pressed against his chest and kissing him.
That feeling only intensified when he looked at you. His face was a mixture of pain and jealousy and you realized that maybe he had felt something for you, too. But it was too late. He'd turned away and left.
It was the sweetest gesture and you couldn't even properly thank him because Nick had interrupted and ended the conversation about your date. You hated the way he slid his hand around your waist, it was such a gross power move. He acted like he owned you before he had even bothered to take you to dinner.
You tried to stay present with Nick but he wasn't making it easy. He had barely asked you about yourself, but you also were guilty of not engaging much.
"What do you think, doll?"
"What?" You snapped out of your thoughts, looking up at him. "I'm sorry, what did you say?"
"About the lake? The fish? The dive?"
"Oh." You'd said, a wave of relief coming over you. "Wow, that's a crazy story. I'm sure the whole lake was shocked."
"They sure were." He laughed.
You forced a smile, looking down at your half-eaten meal.
"You know, I think you're the most beautiful girl in Jackson...." Nick started as your eyes started to wander across the room. You kept scanning for Joel to see if he was coming to have dinner in the dining room but he wasn't there.
You kept looking around until you saw Ellie, she was saying something to Dina and laughing and then heading out.
"Ellie!" You called out. She turned around and smiled, walking over.
"Hey! What's up?" You looked at the plates she had wrapped up and her heart sank.
"Just saying hi. I see you're wearing the flannel I fixed up." You pointed out.
"Yep, I love it." Ellie smiled, holding her arms out to showcase it. "Thanks again. Joel was happy you helped."
"Where is he, by the way?" You tried to act as nonchalant as possible but you heard Nick scoff.
"He's at home, actually. He wasn't feeling too well so I'm gonna drop him off some food before I come back to hang with Dina and Jesse."
You frowned. "Oh."
"If you'll both excuse me, I gotta use the John." Nick said, standing up. Not even remotely pretending he was interested in the conversation.
"He seems like a keeper." Ellie deadpanned.
"The kind of boy you bring home to your mother." You rolled your eyes, and she snickered.
"Is there a reason you're asking about Joel?" Ellie inspected you. For someone who was so young, she had a knack on picking up on things like that. And she had absolutely no filter about it.
"No." You shrugged. "He was just at my place earlier and gave me some bell bottoms. I just wanted to check on him."
"Ooooh." Ellie's eyes sparkled with mischief.
"Stop." You said, glaring at her.
She turned her hands up in defense. "I'm sorry, I'm sorry. But all I'm gonna say is this, if you wanna check on him I don't think he's going anywhere all night and I'm sure he'd appreciate some company. Especially your company."
"Thanks, El." You beamed at her.
"Anytime. Enjoy the rest of your date."
You smiled, watching her leave the dining room.
Your stomach was still in knots and your nerves were going haywire, but you had made up your mind. You were going to visit Joel.
When you got up to talk to Nick and you saw him leaning down on another table to talk to another girl, It was clear he had made up his mind too.
-----------------
Joel strummed his guitar on the front porch, a glass of whiskey sitting beside him. His leftover plate from Ellie was next to him.
He had decided to eat at home instead of eating in the dining room because he couldn't deal with the embarrassment of seeing you again, especially across the table from another man.
So, he ate and played his guitar and drank his whiskey.
It was starting to get dark, and the stars were becoming visible. Joel was trying to focus on the stars instead of thinking about you. But it was hard, especially when he could hear the laughter and conversations going on in town.
He picked his guitar back up and started to strum.
Bell bottom blues, you made me cry
I don't want to lose this feeling
And if I could choose a place to die
It would be in your arms
He continued to sing, closing his eyes and focusing on the song.
I don't want to fade away
Give me one more day, please
I don't want to fade away
In your heart I want to stay
"Nice song."
Joel straightened up and peered out into the darkness. He saw you walking up towards his porch, a shy smile on your face.
"Didn't mean to interrupt." You said, climbing the stairs. He couldn't help but notice how beautiful you looked, even in the dim light. You had your hair down and a thin sweater covering a flowy dress. He could make out the shape of your body and the curves of your breasts, and the way the dress fell at your hips. He cursed himself for noticing and then cursed the fact that his cock stirred when he did.
"You're not." He said, standing up and putting his guitar down. "How was your date?"
You sat down next to him, taking a sip of his whiskey while rolling your eyes.
"Well, he talked a lot. I talked a little. He was rude and didn't ask about me. And I was really distracted."
Joel grunted in acknowledgment and continued to strum as the two of you fell into a warm silence.
"What's the song you're playing?" You asked.
Joel took a deep sigh. He knew once he told you, it was over. He couldn't lie to you.
But fuck It, he'd had some whiskey and it was now or never.
"The song is called 'Bell Bottom Blues', actually."
"Interesting." You mused, leaning back in your chair. "What's the song about?"
Joel stopped strumming. He looked at you, and you were staring at him.
"It's about a guy who has this woman. He knows that they could be great together. She makes him feel happy and good, and everything that a man wants. But the problem is, she doesn't want him."
"Well, that's depressing as shit."
"Yeah." He chuckled, his heart heavy. "It's depressing, but it's also true."
"So, she doesn't love him."
"Right."
"But why doesn't she love him?"
"Because he's old. He's not her type. And he's just a grumpy sonofabitch."
"Who wrote this song?"
"Eric Clapton."
"Well, did this Eric Clapton guy know he wasn't her type or did he just assume she thought he was a grumpy sonofabitch?"
"He assumed."
"Okay. So, maybe the girl is just confused."
"Or maybe she's just not attracted to him."
"I don't know about that. I'd be attracted to a man like that. If he was honest with me and treated me right. That's the important part."
"Yeah, I guess so." Joel replied, his heart racing.
"You guess so? You're an interesting man, Joel Miller."
"I've been told." He smirked, taking another sip of his whiskey. "So, why did you come here?"
You stared at him, a small smile tugging at the corners of your lips.
"Well, I came here to properly thank you but now that I'm here I think I'll just drink some more of your whiskey and listen to you play more about how wrong this Eric Clapton is."
Joel laughed. He looked at you and saw the warmth radiating from your face. He couldn't believe his luck.
"Whatever the lady wants."
"The lady does indeed want." You beamed, and Joel got up and opened the door inside, leading you in.
"All right, darlin', come on in."
--------------------
After a few more glasses of whiskey, you were feeling warmer and relaxed.
Shyness had gone completely out of the window and you were curled up next to Joel, a blanket over the two of you as he strummed the guitar. You were close enough that his knee was against yours. You could feel the heat between you and it made your head spin.
You leaned into him and rested your head against his shoulder. He smelled so good, and the warmth of his body radiated onto yours.
"I'm glad I'm here." You whispered.
"I'm glad you're here, too."
"Joel...Do you think I'm like the girl in the song?"
Joel paused. He put the guitar down and turned to you.
"Well, first of all, you're not a girl." He whispered, his voice low in your ear. "You're a woman."
You closed your eyes, feeling a shiver run down your spine.
"And secondly, I don't think you're anything like the girl in the song. At least, I hope not."
"I'm not." You assured him, your voice soft.
"Then why did you ask?"
"I just want to make sure you're not writing me off because of a song. I'm not some immature girl. I like the way I feel around you, and I'm not afraid to tell you anymore."
"Anymore, huh?" Joel asked. He moved his hand, placing it on your hand. You could feel the warmth and roughness of his palm. "So, if I were to kiss you, would that scare you away?"
"Not at all." You whispered, turning to him. Your eyes met and you could see the fire behind his. You'd seen that fire before, but never so close.
"Good."
Joel placed his hands on your cheeks and brought his lips to yours. Your body stung with excitement and you melted into him, wrapping your arms around his neck.
His beard tickled your skin, but the softness of his lips against yours made your body ache. You kissed the open patches in his beard you had daydreamed about kissing and ran your hands through his hair.
There was no chasteness in your kiss, thanks to the whiskey. Instead, you slipped your tongue into Joel's mouth as he groaned.
He pulled back for a moment, staring at you.
"This is not what I thought would happen." He admitted.
"Me neither." You grinned. "Should we stop? What time is Ellie coming home?"
"She's stayin' the night with Dina actually."
"Well, if that's the case. I should really thank you properly for that gift you showed up with."
Joel's eyes lit up.
"I'll accept whatever thank yous you have."
"I bet you will."
You straddled him, looking down at him as he kept his hands safely on your waist. You could tell he was restraining himself, always the gentleman, but you were tired of holding back how you felt.
You kissed him, hard, and bit his lip, eliciting a groan from him.
"Fuck." He growled, his fingers digging into your waist, pulling you down further onto his lap as you felt his hardening cock against you. You grinded down onto him, and fell into a rhythm while you kissed him and he gripped your waist tighter.
You removed your cardigan and Joel's hands instantly moved up your torso, toying with your straps.
"Joel...it's okay." You grabbed his hand and removed your dress straps with him. Your dress fell, revealing your breasts, and Joel's eyes darkened with an intensity he'd only saved for a hunt. You felt like his prey, and it only made you more aroused.
Joel's hand came up, gently cupping your breasts.
"You're so fuckin' beautiful." He murmured, rubbing his thumbs over your nipples. The sensation shot right to your pussy and your hips continued to move in reaction.
You started to undo the buttons on his shirt, and he helped, throwing it to the side. You pulled him closer, feeling his hot chest against yours, his muscles tense and his arms around you. You kissed his neck, and his collarbone, and then kissed his chest.
You could hear his heavy breathing as you trailed your hands down his torso and his cock strained against his jeans.
"Joel." You whispered, moving off him to kneel in front of him.
"You don't have to." He said, looking at you with a pained expression. You could tell he was still trying to be a gentleman and hold back, but you were done holding back with how much you wanted him.
"I want to. I want you." You said as you slipped his jeans off. His erection was prominent through his boxers and you could see the wetness at the tip of his cock.
Joel let out a soft groan, watching you take off his boxers. His cock sprang free, and he hissed as the cool air hit him.
You had been guilty of spending nights thinking about what Joel Miller would feel like on top of you, inside you and in your mouth. But nothing could prepare you for the real thing.
His cock was thick, a beautiful length with a slight curve. Precum was leaking from his tip, and you wrapped your hands around his base, stroking him up and down.
"Jesus." Joel groaned. You felt his hand reach out, gently grabbing the back of your head and guiding you closer. You licked the precum off his tip and he moaned.
You licked down his length and then took his cock into your mouth. Joel's breath caught, and his fingers tightened in your hair.
"That feels so good." He said, his voice gravelly and low. You took more of him in your mouth, swirling your tongue around his head and hollowing out your cheeks. Joel's hand pushed down a little harder and he let out a moan.
"Am I bein' too rough?" Joel asked with concern.
You looked up at him with full eye contact, your pupils blown. You started to ease his cock further into your mouth until you could feel his tip at your throat. You stayed there, and then started to move slowly up and down, the pressure from your tongue making Joel gasp.
"Jesus Christ, girl." He whispered, and then he started to push his hips upward, meeting you as you bobbed on his cock. His thrusts became faster, and his breath caught in his throat. You could tell he was getting close and you wanted nothing more than to feel him lose control in your mouth.
Suddenly, Joel's hand left the back of your head, and his cock left your mouth. You looked up at him with a dazed expression and watched as he stood up.
"What's wrong?"
"Nothin' is wrong." He growled. "Take off your dress and get on the couch."
You got up and slowly peeled off the rest of your clothes, his eyes never left your body. You saw his chest rise and fall with each breath as the two of you stood for a moment, studying each other's naked bodies.
Joel stepped forward and kissed you, hard. His tongue found yours and you tangled together, tasting each other. He grabbed your ass and pulled you closer to him, his cock pushing against you.
"Get on the couch, baby." He ordered, his voice gruff. "Let me fuck you."
You lay down on the couch, spreading your legs. You had been dripping wet since you'd first straddled him, and now, it was dripping down your thighs and you couldn't help but run your fingers through it.
"Fuck. You are so goddamn beautiful." He said, his voice a low grunt. He knelt down and took a finger, running it through your wetness and then pushing it inside of you.
You gasped, the sensation of his thick finger hitting you differently than your own. He pushed a second finger inside of you, feeling an overwhelming stretch.
"You're so fuckin' tight. I gotta make sure you can take me." He said, pushing his fingers deeper inside you and curling them up. You gasped, arching your back as his fingers hit a spot inside of you that you can't normally reach.
You bucked your hips towards him. "I used to dream about what your fingers would feel like inside of me."
"Is that right, baby?" Joel asked. He added a third finger and the pressure was almost unbearable, he moved at a faster pace and the sounds of his fingers pushing in and out of your wetness were filling the room.
"I'm so close." You whined, bucking your hips against him. But he could feel it, he could feel your tightness clenching around his fingers.
He positioned himself quickly to lean in and suck on your clit. It was gentle, and his beard brushed against the skin around it. It was the final thing to send you over the edge, and you came hard.
"Joel." You moaned as you reached your climax, arching your back and riding his fingers. You could feel the wave of pleasure rolling over you as you gripped his hair. He slowed his pace and then pulled his fingers out, wiping his face.
"Did I do okay?" He asked, looking at you, and you saw the softness behind his eyes.
"You did better than okay. Take me to your bedroom?"
Joel nodded, picking you up and carrying you upstairs.
-------------------------
Joel laid you down gently on his bed and stood, looking down at you, stroking his cock.
He climbed on top of you and leaned down to kiss you. You could feel his hard cock against your stomach.
"Are you ready, darlin'?" He whispered in your ear, nibbling your lobe.
"Mmm, please." You murmured, lifting your hips towards him.
Joel grabbed his cock and rubbed his head along your wetness. He pushed it inside of you, slowly, and groaned.
"Fuck, you're tight." He muttered, his body stiffening. He eased himself in further, the stretch of his cock was intense, but the feeling of fullness was unlike anything you'd ever experienced.
You felt him start to move his hips and you arched your back, taking him deeper as you opened your legs wider.
You could feel him deep inside you, hitting that same spot he'd touched earlier. Your hips bucked against his and the sound of the slapping of his hips against yours echoed in the room.
He was breathing heavily and his eyes were half-closed.
"You're so tight. Jesus Christ, you feel so good." He moaned. "Like you were meant to take my cock."
"I want it all." You whimpered, grabbing his ass to pull him closer. "I want it deep."
"God damn, baby." Joel grabbed your legs and placed them over his shoulders, giving him a better angle to thrust deeper. He slammed into you and the feeling of him against the back of your walls and the way his pubic bone pressed against your clit made you gasp.
"You wanted it deep like this?" He growled, his grip on your thighs tightening, the slapping of your skin and your moans getting louder.
"Yes." You gasped, feeling yourself reaching another climax. "Oh fuck, I'm cumming again."
You felt your walls tighten around his cock, and he moved down to press his thumb on your clit. He pressed and swirled his thumb against you, and the sensation was overwhelming. You came hard, moaning and writhing beneath him.
He slowed his thrusts as you rode out your orgasm.
"Fuck, I can feel you cummin' all over my cock." He murmured, his voice low. "It feels so fuckin' good. It feels so fuckin' good, darlin'. You're gonna make me cum."
His thrusts were becoming sloppy and frantic, and his breathing was coming faster. You were so sensitive and each thrust made your body twitch.
Neither of you had said it but you had both had the desire to have him cum inside you. You wanted to feel all of him and the thought of him filling you with his cum while you looked like a pornstar underneath him turned Joel on more than he'd like to admit.
"Cum in me." You pleaded, and that was enough. Joel's head fell back and he moaned, his body twitching.
"Fuck, fuck, fuck." He said, slowing his thrusts as his cum dripped down his cock and into you. You could feel him cumming, his cum hot and thick inside of you.
He stayed still for a few moments, the room filled with the sound of the two of you catching your breaths. Then he slowly pulled out, watching as his cum mixed with yours, dripping out of you and onto his sheets.
In one final move, he took two fingers and took your dripping cum to thrust it back inside of you.
You watched him, dazed and exhausted. He got up, panting and dazed and left the room for a few moments. When he returned, he had your clothes in one hand, and a towel and a glass of water in the other.
He placed your clothes on the floor and handed you the water. You gulped it down while he cleaned you off. You winced a bit, feeling the warm washcloth between your legs and Joel looked up at you with concern.
"Did I hurt you?" He asked, his voice low.
"Not in a bad way." You grinned.
Joel smirked and lay down next to you, pulling the blanket over the two of you. He put an arm around you and pulled you into him.
You rested your head on his chest and ran your fingers along the grooves of his muscles.
"I think this was a better gift than the bell bottoms." You joked.
Joel laughed and kissed the top of your head.
"I don't know, I did go through a raider camp for those jeans. That was pretty heroic and dangerous."
"Yes, Joel Miller, you are a hero in the name of fashion." You yawned, nestling into him. You could hear the steady beating of his heart and felt his chest rising and falling with his breathing.
You closed your eyes and were starting to drift off when Joel's voice brought you back.
"Hey."
"Yeah?"
"Thank you for comin' over and doing somethin' I was too chicken shit on doing for a long time."
You smiled.
"Don't worry, I'm here to do the things we're both scared to do. You just have to promise to keep the whiskey and the bell bottoms comin'."
"It's a deal." Joel kissed your head again and pulled you in closer.
You drifted off to sleep, content and safe in Joel's arms. Finally feeling the relief and acceptance of what you had tried to ignore for so long.
And the feeling of Joel's arms around you felt more like home than you could ever imagine.
1K notes · View notes
tubbytarchia · 3 months
Note
Thoughts on the dynamic between TIES Tango and BB Jimmy? Or even the silly rivalry they have in SL? There’s just so much adorable fluffy potential there and I’m just 💭
- 🧚🏼‍♀️
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YOU'RE RIGHT THERE IS AND I LOVE THEM. SL ranchers are SO cute and precious its off the charts. Limited Life however...
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Ok drawing that hurt a bit so I'm immediately following up with this
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Limited Life is so carefree in general it's SO fun and probably the least angst material out of any of the Life series to me (of course there is still plenty, can't underestimate the traffic fandom's ability to find angst in everything) including Tango and Jimmy. They're so fun and you're right that it's a lot of fluff potential, mostly because Jimmy being a "bad boy" is so funny. BUT THE, MAN. TH The fact that this is the one after DL, after Jimmy so desperately wanted to apologize to Tango for how they went out and who knows if he got to do that or not. I love the idea of them reuniting in some temporary afterlife game or dark void following their deaths, but also what if they didn't get to talk... maybe it was only Tango's distant messages "you're still here? It's over. Go home. Go" that reached him and then he just didn't dare to talk about it other than the one time he instinctually called him "rancher" again. I can't help but be filled with angst when I think about LimL ranchers but I trust that where there is angst, hurt/comfort is sure to follow.... If not then I just die I guess
The bad boy sunglasses are very convenient to hide the look with which he gazes upon Tango from a distance... But then oop Tango hops through the nether portal on top of bad boy mansion and Jimmy decides to go for it, to try and harken back to how they used to be to gauge how Tango will react when he goes "The boogie's being chosen, you're here with us now, we have to look into each other's eyes!" (paraphrasing) and then he's like "oh Impulse is here too" lmao and then that's just kinda it. And then TIES blows up bread bridge and auughhghhh you know??? I'm so bad at expressing how I feel, sorry this is a ramble. But I love them so very dearly and I could absolutely imagine inconspicuous moments between them. Like whenever I think of potential LimL rancher fluff my mind goes to this one fanfic about Jimmy being sleep deprived and he just kinda ends up at TIES and Tango puts him to sleep. Stuff like that
And idk what more to say about Secret Life. Their little rivalry is so funny and literally idk if it's the fanart that has absolutely fucked with my head but every time I think about them I imagine them awkwardly flirting on complete accident and just being kind of weird but. very lovable. They had only two notable interactions and those two interactions left me permanently deranged
ANYWAY THANKS FOR THE ASK ANON
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twelve-forfend · 4 months
Text
Well, I did say this was a multi-fandom blog... Alright, let's do this.
The Qing Jing Peak Lord's Bamboo House
(and the symbolism therein, as recorded in the donghua)
I was snooping through the establishing shots of the Qing Jing Peak Lord's Bamboo House, and had to laugh as I always do at all the gay symbolism that managed to sneak its way inside. But then I looked a little closer, and was floored by just how much passive storytelling was packed into background assets. I talked about it at length over discord, and at the urging of others decided to make a shareable post on social media as well.
First, the shots which first piqued my interest in this topic years ago:
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Shen Yuan transmigrates into the stallion-genre webnovel entitled 狂傲仙魔途 (translated as Proud Immortal Demon Way). The author's and his own usernames are dick jokes.
Notice the chrysanthemum vase, the cock vase, and the stallion statuette.
The stallion and cock are obvious nods to these jokes on their own, but for the uninitiated, the chrysanthemum is a symbol of gay sex between men, as the asshole itself is often euphemistically referred to as a chrysanthemum. This should have been Shen Yuan's first clue that not all is as it seems here! These are the personal quarters of Shen Jiu — the original Shen Qingqiu!
But let's move to the main room you first walk into upon entering the bamboo house.
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There it is: the writing on the wall.
As the Peak Lord of strategy and the scholarly arts, Shen Qingqiu would naturally have calligraphy and paintings hanging everywhere! So let's break it down.
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On the top we have 道㳒自然 ("Dao Follows Nature"), which comes from a Dao teaching by Laozi (founder of Daoism) meaning that life, death, the entire universe, the heavens and earth and everything outside and inbetween, all follow a set of laws referred to as the nature of things. Although unrelated to the Buddhist couplet below, it's certainly relevant!
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Originally hanging in right-to-left order, I've arranged them to read left to right here to make things easier to keep track of. The calligraphy reads 西方竹葉千年翠;南海蓮九品香 and is a couplet commonly found in Guanyin temples. My classical chinese is not as strong as I'd like, but this translates roughly to "The bamboo leaves in Paradise are green for a thousand years / The fragrance of lotus flowers in the South China Sea is as thick as 9 sticks of incense."
The character 西 for West is used to denote the destination of enlightenment/purity: the buddhist Paradise (think Journey to the West). The South China Sea is where Guanyin was born. Upon the Lotus flowers is where Guanyin is commonly depicted as sitting. The "9 sticks of incense" though literal can also refer to the 9 tiers/grades of reincarnation lotuses with the 9th tier being the lowest, meant for those who in life committed the most evil of crimes — the 4 parajikas — and who can only manage a sincere Amitabha recitation 10 times and no more than this.
To put this in context with Shen Jiu (the same jiu as in 9/九), the 4 parajikas committed by the 9th Tier Lotuses Reborn (officially entitled the Lowest of the Low) are:
Sexual Intercourse
Stealing
Murder
Claiming attainments of stages of pure mental concentration that have not been achieved (in other words, rushing or lying about your cultivation/enlightenment, or maybe even becoming a Peak Lord without having formed a golden core beforehand).
From what we know in the context of the novel, Shen Jiu is innocent of at least the first of this parajikas, but the overall view of Shen Jiu in the eyes of others in the story is that he is guilty of them all. This calligraphy can be seen as a condemnation or a reminder for the character Shen Jiu, who even as the Peak Lord Shen Qingqiu is widely thought of as a scum villain and the lowest of the low.
Phew! That's a lot to unpack.
But if you turn your gaze to the original screenshot, you'll see to the right that there's a vase painted with a blue bird. This vase appears in several rooms of the bamboo house, and seems to be the image of a qingniao (青鸟; lit: Qing bird, wherein 青 can mean blue/green/clear-but-brackish black).
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These qing-coloured birds are messengers and foragers of the Goddess-Mother of Paradise (Xiwang-mu 西王母, the "west/paradise" character from before, lit West-King(unisex)-Mother). They're a highly intelligent species who are exceptional in song (a good representative for Qing Jing's scholarly arts and pursuit of qin!), and the older ones might learn to speak human tongue. As a subspecies of luanniao (鸾鸟 lit: luan bird), they're thought to be related to The Phoenix and indeed thought to be the lifetime/samsara just before being reborn as a Phoenix.
If given to a "master" they don't like, the qingniao may refuse to pass messages or sing until they're set free, but if they do get along with you then they're loyal to the end.
As a point of interest, the Qing generation of Peak Lords uses the character 清, which is 青 ("colour of nature; brackish black, blue, green; young) + the radical for "water," resulting in the meaning of clear (as in water or heart; see-through); distinct; quiet (as in still); just and honest; pure; to settle or clear up; to clean up, expunge, or purge.
And as a bit of trivia, Liu Qingge's sword Cheng Luan 乘鸾 means "to ride the luan, take flight on the back of a luan." (Relevant, because the qingniao is considered a subspecies of luanniao).
With the Lords of both Qing Jing and Bai Zhan referencing this bird, I really wonder about its significance! It's spawning plenty of theories and headcanons for me.
Heading back outside for a moment, you'll find that in the Quiet Pool (清静小池 qingjing xiaochi (yes, the same Qing Jing the peak is named for)), there are lotuses, and on land there are flower shrubs which are either wide-petaled chrysanthemums (gay bottom jokes ahoy), or a type of peony, the king of flowers demarcating wealth and prosperity. Either way, a blossom fitting of our Qing Jing Peak Lord Shen Qingqiu!
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My one regret is that I cannot get a clear shot of the fan hanging on the wall to try and translate the calligraphy on it. If anyone can snag one, please tag me! I also couldn't translate the paintings with poems hanging in Shen Qingqiu's bedroom (it's just too small and blurry for my bad eyes to make out). If I make another post attempting these things, I'll append them to this initial post in an edit afterwards.
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sara-scribbles · 1 year
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The Littlest Dragon (Part 1)
Fandom: Twisted Wonderland Malleus Draconia/GN!Reader Summary: Your quiet life as a herbalist is disrupted when you take in an injured dragon Word Count: 5,768 Notes: I just really want a mini-dragon Warnings: None
Part 1, Part 2 Part 3
You almost mistake the bundle of black for a pile of cloth. Upon closer inspection, you can see shiny obsidian scales that shimmer in the light. The creature is larger than a squirrel but smaller than a house cat. Unsure what to do, you approach him cautiously but he doesn’t move.
Gently turning him over, your eyes widen. “A dragon?” Despite his small size, he has definite features of the powerful beasts just squished together in a smaller form.
A quick once over, you can see a twisted front leg and one wing bent at an odd angle. The creature's chest moves up and down but you can almost make out a pained gasp. Making a snap decision, you carefully wrap the dragon in your coat before rushing back home. Your half filled basket of herbs forgotten.
Bursting through the gate, you startle the three chickens resting nearby. The cluck loudly as you give a quick apology. Setting the dragon down on your table inside the cottage, you wash your hands before grabbing what you need.
Setting the armload of potions, salves and bandages, you get to work patching up the dragon. Thankfully the little guy stays passed out throughout the process. You clean and disinfect the wounds before applying salves. You create a makeshift splint for the front leg and wing. After finally satisfied, you slump down in a chair.
Watching the creature curiously, you decide to let him rest until he wakes up. You aren’t sure about the healing rate of dragons let alone such a small one.
Resting your cheek on the table, you gently stroke the top of his head. You’re fascinated by the two horns that curl back into his head. “I didn’t realize they could be so small,” you mumble.
Letting out a deep sigh, you take the dragon upstairs to your bedroom. You place a pillow on a chair in the corner of your room and set him down. Recalling a lesson on dragons, you bundle a spare blanket around him for a makeshift nest. Leaving the creature to rest, you return downstairs to clean up.
---
A few days go by but the dragon remains asleep. You periodically check in on him to change the dressings and reapply the salves. You’re happy to say the wounds are healing nicely. However, you’re starting to worry if the dragon will ever wake up.
It’s the middle of the night when you’re roused from sleep. Blearily opening your eyes, you meet the deep green gaze of the dragon. He stands on the pillow next to your own. His tongue flicks out making you flinch.
“Oh, you’re finally awake,” you mutter. Rubbing the sleep from your eyes, you sit up, which causes the dragon to step back. “How’d you even get over here?” You finally notice the bandages on the wing missing, but he seems perfectly fine.
He tilts his head to one side. Dragons are said to be intelligent creatures, you recall. “Do you want something to eat? I assume you’re probably hungry after sleeping for five days.”
Without waiting for an answer, you get out of bed and head downstairs with the little creature flying after you. You manage to make a simple plate of beef and vegetables. Watching the dragon attack the meal with such ferocity, you realize he must have been starving despite seeming so calm. Once he finishes the meal, he sits back with his claws on his stomach.
“Satisfied?” You chuckle as you notice food all over his face. He stays completely still as you clean his face.
Leaning an elbow on the table, you both stare at each other. “So… what do I call you?” He only lets out a gurgling of growls in response. “How about Tsunotarou?” He seems to nod as if your silly name is an acceptable one for a dragon.
“Well, it seems like your wing is healed, but your front leg still needs a bit of time. If you want, you can stay here until then,” you offer.
He says something you don’t understand once more, but looks satisfied as he decides to perch on your shoulder. “Alright, let's go back to bed. I have an early morning.” Yawning, you head back upstairs for some sleep.
---
You live in a cottage away from others. It was a gift from your late parents. Small but cozy, you don’t mind the solitude. In the front, you have a chicken coop with three hens. You also have a small barn for your goat, Phillis. In the back, your garden grows a few vegetables, fruits and herbs. The woods nearby provide you with wild herbs and berries. Anything else you need, you can go into town or ask Ace and Deuce to bring them.
As a herbalist, you create salves and potions, which you sell in town once a week. Unlike most herbalists, you lack magic. However, that’s never stopped you from doing your job. Plus you were taught by the best of the best, so the quality of your work is great. 
The usual day consists of you getting up early to feed the chickens and goat. Then you take stock of your inventory. After, you usually head into the woods to gather herbs. The rest of the day consists of brewing potions and salves, and tending to the garden. At night, you make dinner, make sure the chickens are in their coop, and do some light reading before bed. Rinse and repeat.
It may seem dull to most, but you enjoy the routine. Sometimes your day is broken up by a visit from Ace and Deuce, an adventuring duo, who you’ve known since school. They argue and fight, but ultimately work well as a team when needed. Their antics never fail to make your day entertaining.
Today when you get up, the dragon follows you. In the kitchen you make a breakfast of eggs and a fruit bowl. It seems Tsunotarou isn’t too picky on what you feed him as he gobbles everything up. After a quick cleanup, you and your new companion head outside. Your three chickens are already awake. They strut around the front yard as you grab a bag of feed.
“Alright, ladies, time for breakfast,” you call. Sprinkling the food, the three descend near you in a flurry of white and brown feathers.
Tsunotarou, who perched himself on your shoulder, leans forward watching in rapt interest. “Do you want to try to feed them?” you ask, holding the bag of feed up.
Using his good claw, he picks up a small handful before tossing them in the air. Most of the feed falls on the ground, though some does fall on the chickens. “Maybe aim a little more toward the ground,” you chuckle.
The three start trying to eat the feed off each other's backs, which causes a lot of squawking. One pecks another on the head rather viciously. “Flora, that’s not nice! Now apologize to Merryweather,” Scolding the chicken, she seems to deflate a bit before sulkily wandering off with a sad cluck.
Shaking your head, you set aside the chicken feed to grab food for Phillis. “Those two always seem to be fighting,” you tell Tsunotarou, who continues to watch the three hens. “Fauna is the mild mannered one of the group, thankfully. I guess she balances them out.”
Phillis comes trotting over the moment you're within sight. Patting her head, you scratch her behind the ears. “Morning, princess.” She bleats happily at the attention. The little dragon flies off your shoulder to get a better look at Phillis. She noses his stomach curiously as he reaches out to pat her on the snout.
“She’s a gentle one.” You smile as she nudges your side to hurry you up on getting her breakfast. “Okay, okay! I’m getting there.”
Once you give her food and water, you head back inside to your work room. You go through your current stock of ingredients while Tsunotarou flips through the thick tome of recipes. You wonder briefly if dragons can read, but knowing how highly intelligent they are, it wouldn’t be much of a surprise.
“That was given to me by my former teacher, Crewel. He taught me everything I know about brewing potions,” you explain as you check things off. “He was a tough teacher, but I learned from the best. I still have nightmares about that riding crop…” Not that he ever used it on you, but when he wanted to make a point, he made one.
You continue, “The potion and salve I used for you is for speeding up the healing process. It supposedly works on all living creatures, so I was hoping it would work on dragons.”
Tsunotarou leaves the tome to come over to your side. You shake your head as you reread your lists. “I seem to be out of a lot of stuff,” you mutter to yourself.
Pinching the bridge of your nose, you sigh. “I’ll have to make a trip into town.” Glancing at the creature on your shoulder, you regard him silently. His intelligent green eyes stare back as he stretches his wings.
“So, I either have to leave you here alone.” He bristles, eyes narrowing. “Or, you have to stay hidden until we get back from town.” You aren’t sure how people would react if they saw a small dragon on your shoulder. It would be better not to take the chance of possibly causing a commotion.
He agrees to your second option as he flies off your shoulder and lands in the satchel you keep hung up near the front door. His head pokes out when you don’t move. “I’m coming. I’m coming.”
You leave for the main shopping center with the dragon in tow. A bit nervous, you try to calm yourself through the walk. Tsunotarou pokes his head out taking in the scenery. At least someone is feeling fine.
The hustle and bustle of the town can be heard as you near the gate. The guards let you through without much of a glance. Here, adventures and merchants can check in the numerous guilds while stocking up on supply. It’s always busy as people move in and out. You only really stop here every few months to get supplies. By now, the shops you frequent are familiar with what you need, which makes shopping a little easier.
First stop is to pick up some herbs. Looking at your herb list, you easily weave your way through the streets. “I was dangerously low on four leaf clovers and died mandrakes…”
“Hello?” The greenhouse is quiet as you don’t see anyone. “Jack?” You tap the little bell on the front counter.
Finally, someone comes to the front. “Hey, (Y/N),” Jack greets with a nod. Though just a part-timer, he knows the greenhouse inside and out. 
Smiling, you point to your list. “Just need to restock a few things.” Handing the list over, he quickly looks everything over.
“I’ll be right back with everything.” He’s gone in a flash.
You feel Tsunotarou wiggle around in the satchel before poking his head out. “You have to stay hidden,” you whisper, placing a finger over your lips.
His head turns this way and that way before he retreats back into the bag. Just in time too as Jack returns with your things. Scratching his head, his ears twitch. “Uh, sorry we’re out of powdered death caps. We oughta be getting some next week.”
“That’s fine. I don’t think I’ll be needing them right away. Can you put me on the list to set some aside when they come in?” He leans over to hand you the other items. He pauses for a moment, his brows drawing together as his eyes dart around.
“Jack?” You inch back a bit. You can only hope he’ll ignore whatever he’s smelling.
Seeming to remember himself, he pulls back with an awkward cough. “S-sorry…” He hastily scribbles your name down in a small book. “That’ll be thirty-three for the rest.”
As you reach in your satchel for your coin purse, your hand brushes against the dragon hiding there. Freezing up, your gaze darts over to Jack, who thankfully is busy doing something else. You feel coins being pressed into your hand. Glancing inside your bag, Tsunotarou looks up at you expectantly. He flicks his tongue out a few times.
Counting the coins in your hand, you can’t help the grin spreading across your face. He had given your exact change. “Somethin’ up?” Jack inquires, noting the way you’re looking down.
Snapping your attention back to him, you shake your head. “Nope. Here’s the money.” You hurriedly hand him the coins. “I’ll see you next week, Jack.” Giving him a rushed wave, you quickly leave the greenhouse.
Once a good distance away, you let out a deep sigh. “I think that went well.” Opening your satchel a bit, you’re met with judging green eyes. “Don’t look at me like that! I panicked!” 
Shoving the bag of herbs into a corner of the satchel, Tsunotarou curls deeper into the bag. Letting the satchel bag flap fall back down, you return to the other lists you made. “Guess we’ll visit Sam’s shop next…”
Sam’s is busy as usual when you arrive. Pushing through the throng of customers, you make your way to the shelf filled with bottles. Picking out a few that you need for potions, you move on to the jars. By the time you go to checkout, you can feel Tsunotarou squirming inside the satchel. He pokes his head out every now and then, but only does it when there aren’t many people around. People are too busy with their own shopping, they don’t even glance your way. 
“Welcome back, little imp!” Sam greets.
You return the greeting with a wide smile. “Hey, Sam. Just the usual.” As Sam wraps each glass bottle in brown paper, you mentally do the math of how much you owe.
He carefully splits your items into two bags. “That’ll be one-hundred unless you’re looking for something out of stock?”
“No, I’m good for today.” You reach into your satchel and Tsunotarou presses the coins into your hand. “Here you go.”
Sam eyes your bag with interest but doesn’t say anything. “See you next time!”
You’re thankful that Sam doesn’t pry. The next stores are all uneventful. By the time you’re walking back home, you have an armload of bags. Your satchel can usually hold more, but the extra guest makes it difficult to fit anything beyond the herbs in there.
Once home, you put everything away before feeding everyone. Later, you’re stretched out in front of the fireplace with a botany book in hand. Tsunotarou is curled up on your lap while you read and take notes along the pages. Though you’re used to being alone, it’s like a familiar comfort to feel his weight on your lap. 
When it’s time for bed, you carry the still sleeping dragon upstairs. Putting Tsunotarou in the makeshift nest, you climb into bed. However, before you can fall asleep, Tsunotarou flies over with the blanket in his mouth. Standing at the edge of the bed, it’s almost like he’s giving you puppy dog eyes.
Rolling your eyes, you pat the empty spot near your pillow. “Fine, come on.”
He lets out a satisfied chirp. He wraps the blanket in a neat pile before laying down. Laying on your side, you chuckle while scratching the top of his head. “Good night, Tsunotarou.”
---
At the end of the month you’re preparing a few potions that need to be bathed in moonlight. Tsunotarou sets down the vials you’ve finished in the rack on the windowsill near the front door. You're grateful to have the extra…claws while juggling a few other things at once.
“One more glamor potion and that should be the last of the orders,” you tell Tsunotarou as he perches on your shoulder while you’re stirring the cauldron. “Thanks for the help.” You give him a little scratch under his chin. 
You swear he purrs with the way you feel his body vibrate. “I swear you’re a cat disguised as a dragon,” you chortle while bopping him on the nose.
He stares back at you before slowly blinking in return. “You can’t blame me for making the connection. You even caught a snake and left it as a gift,” you continue while sprinkling in some crushed rose petals. “Also, you shouldn’t do that again.”
The dragon grumbles deep within his chest. “It’s not that I don’t appreciate the gesture, but let's leave the wildlife alone.” 
Pouring the potion into a vial and sealing it, you hand it off to Tsunotarou, who takes it into his paws before flying off to put it in the rack. Taking a seat, you lean back with a deep sigh. 
Tsunotarou returns, taking a seat on the table. His front paw is fully healed and is no longer wrapped in bandages. Despite being back to full health, it doesn’t seem like he plans to go anywhere.
Suddenly there’s a commotion of loud squawking before the front door is thrown open. “Oi! (Y/N), we’re back!” Ace shouts while letting the door bang.
You tumble back in the chair and hit the ground. “Ahhhkk-ow!” Your head rebounds off the floor with a loud smack.
Two things happen at once. Deuce, who’s behind Ace, rushes over to help you up; however, he’s met with a hissing dragon blocking him that spits red flames at him. His sleeve automatically catches fire and the cottage is filled with panicked, confused screaming.
“Ahhhahhhhhck! Put it out!”
“Is that a dragon!?”
While the two run around screaming, you stare in a daze at the ceiling. Tsunotarou’s face suddenly fills your vision. He chirps a few times before you finally respond with a pat on his head. “I’m okay…”
Slowly sitting up, you notice the two idiots are now quiet. Deuce is no longer on fire, thankfully. However, they take in the sight of Tsunotarou sitting on your shoulder from a safe distance. You wince when you touch the already forming lump on the back of your head.
You huff before glaring at the redhead. “What did I say about suddenly bursting through the front door, Ace?! Can’t you knock like a normal person?”
“Well…I-I…!” Ace sputters unintelligibly before he jabs a finger at the dragon on your shoulder. “Forget about me for a second! What’s that thing?!”
Tsunotarou bares his teeth with a low growl. “We are going to have this conversation later,” you tell him before shifting gears. “This is Tsunotarou. I found him in the forest a little over a month ago.”
“Is he like a baby dragon?” Deuce asks, eyes wide.
Picking up the fallen chair, you shake your head. “I don’t think so. Anyways, baby dragons are much larger. Maybe he’s just a special type of dragon?”
Ace leans closer but pulls back when Tsunotarou snaps at him. “Kinda vicious. He almost barbecued poor Deucy.”
“You also busted in here suddenly. He probably thought you two were threats,” you point out. “Anyways, What trouble did you get into this time?”
“Psssh! Why’d you think we got in trouble?”
“Because you have an infected, bleeding wound on your arm, Ace.” Rolling your eyes, you go to your workroom before returning with a handful of potions, salves, and bandages. “Sit.”
As they plop down, you hand them each a potion. “We had a commission to take down some orcs that were terrorizing a small village,” Deuce explains. “But, uh, turns out it was actually a colony of orcs.”
“So you got beat up?” You clean Deuce’s cuts, which are mostly minor. A few do need some salve and bandages.
You move on to Ace, who looks the worse between the two. “We didn’t get beat up,” Ace grumbles. “We took them down! Aaaa-ouch!!” Biting your lip, you continue to dab his infected wound. 
“You two get into more trouble than anyone I know. Did you at least get a good reward?”
“Of course!” Ace pulls out a hefty coin purse and lets it fall on the table. “All in a day's work.” He grins smugly with his nose in the air.
Flicking his nose, you shake your head as he covers his face. “Don’t freely show that off or you’ll get mugged. Again.” Finished with his wounds, you place a small container of salve in his hand. “Use this once a day until everything is gone. It should, hopefully, not scar.”
“Um, (Y/N), can we crash here?” Deuce asks. He shrinks back when you give him a look.
Rubbing your temples, you sigh, “Fine. But one of you is gonna be sleeping on the floor cause I only have one couch.”
Ace jumps up. “Dibs!”
“Wait, you got the couch the last time! It’s my turn!” Leaving the two bickering adventurers, you head upstairs to find some spare blankets.
Tsunotarou gives you a questioning look as you rummage around in your closet. “They’re good friends. A little annoying at times, but they’ve always had my back.” You can’t count how many times they’ve slept at your place.
“They’re just as rowdy as they were in school,” you mutter as you head back down with two pillows and some blankets.
---
You can’t sleep. Tossing and turning, you finally settle on your back to glare at the ceiling. Ace and Deuce both snore loud enough to be heard from your bedroom. Tsunotarou had disappeared though you weren’t too worried. He would sometimes leave in the middle of the night, most likely to hunt, but he would always return by the time you got up.
Sitting up, you carefully make your way downstairs. “Maybe something to eat will help,” you mumble. You spot Ace hanging off the couch, so you know who lost the argument.
Just as you’re about to tiptoe around Deuce, you hear some loud clucking. Eyes furrowing, you wonder why the hens are up at this hour. Forgetting about your midnight snack, you head to the front door. Stepping outside, the air is warm but nice enough for early summer. Before you can move, you notice a figure standing near the chicken coop.
Not only is it strange to see a person at this time, but there’s also one other thing making you pause and rethink your plans. The moon hangs large in the sky and bathes the world in an ethereal silvery glow. The stranger stands there, head tilted upward to the sky, completely still.
And completely naked.
Slowly closing the door, you slide the deadbolt in place with a muffled click. Hopefully the naked stranger will leave. You doubt the deadbolt would keep anyone out if they actually wanted to break in. However, the act of using it at least gives you a small peace of mind.
Deciding the hens can take care of themselves, you head back to bed. You’re far too tired to deal with whatever nonsense is happening outside. As you drift off to sleep, your last thought is of Tsunotarou. You send a small prayer to whoever is listening that he’s alright.
However, you're woken by a loud crash. And then. “AHHHHHH!!!” “DO SOMETHING!!!”
Bolting out of bed, sunlight filters through the window. Despite feeling like you didn’t sleep at all, it’s morning. You grab the nearest object, a broom, before rushing downstairs. In your haste you nearly slip but manage to catch yourself. Wielding the broom, you’re ready to smack whatever intruder is causing trouble.
Instead of a naked intruder, you witness Ace trying to put out a fire with one of your spare pillows. Deuce is rushing over with a cup of water and dumps it on the flaming blanket. It goes out with a loud sizzle. Both boys let out a relieved sigh as you set the broom down.
“Mind telling me what’s going on?” you ask, not amused.
“Your overgrown lizard,” Ace jabs a finger at Tsunotarou, who is sitting on top of the table, “tried to set me on fire! He tried to murder me!!”
You glance at Deuce, who is still clutching the cup, then back at the frazzled redhead. “Did you do anything to him? Tsunotarou doesn’t just attack people out of nowhere.”
Ace rubs the back of his neck as he suddenly loses the fire in his eyes. “I…I might have said he got fat… And that you should get rid of him,” he admits. “B-But! I’m not wrong! He’s gotten bigger overnight. Soon he’ll be too big for your house!”
Your attention goes to the dragon, who sits patiently while watching the scene. You can’t deny that he’s gotten bigger. Now he’s the size of a large cat, possibly even bigger. “Do dragons usually have growth spurts?” you wonder aloud.
“I don’t remember reading about this at school,” Deuce says, nodding thoughtfully.
“Would you two think about the bigger issue!? He’s gonna grow too big and probably eat us all! That’s what dragons do!” Ace shouts, waving his hands around wildly. 
Walking over to Tsunotarou, you gently stroke his head. “You wouldn’t do that would you?” He gurgles happily, leaning into your touch. “See. He wouldn’t eat us. We’re not very tasty anyways.”
Ace slaps a hand over his face. “(Y/N), he’s a dragon! Not a pet!”
“I know. And dragons are highly intelligent, which means they can understand us.” You chuckle when he rubs against your arm. “I’m pretty sure if Tsunotarou wanted to eat us, he would’ve burned us all alive by now.”
Deuce shudders. “Morbid…”
“Oh yeah!” You completely ignore the last comment. “There’s possibly a naked stranger wandering around this area. I saw him standing near the chicken coop last night.” Tsunotarou makes a noise in the back of his throat.
“...what?” Both boys stare at you before scrambling for the front door.
“Pretty sure he left already!” They don’t hear you as they race outside still in their sleepwear. Lifting Tsunotarou into your arms, you huff, “You’ve gotten heavier too. I’m not sure if you’ll be able to fit in my satchel now.” He only nuzzles your face with his scaly snout.
Coming outside, the hens are just fine. Tsunotarou flies out of your arms to grab the bag of feed. Deuce watches in rapt interest as he throws chicken feed in front of the hens. “He actually helps out?” he asks, surprised. 
It really is a sight to see. “Yup. He’s been helping with small things here and there. He even hands me ingredients when I make potions.”
Once the hens are properly fed, he flies off to take care of Phillis. Despite her initial fear of him, Phillis seems to have gotten used to him. You two follow behind to Phillis's pen. Tsunotarou pats the top of her head while she eats.
“I never thought I’d see a dragon taking care of a goat instead of eating one…” Deuce looks both perplexed and awed.
“Hey!” Ace storms over with twigs and leaves in his hair. “What the hell, Deuce!”
“Huh??”
“I thought we were looking for the weirdo (Y/N) saw. Instead you leave me to do the work.” he grumbles.
Deuce gestures over to Tsunotarou. “I-I got distracted,” he sputters.
The redhead barely passes a glance over to the dragon. “Excuses like always, Deucy.”
“Did you find anything,” you ask, distracting Ace.
“Nah. Think whoever it was left.” Ace shakes his head.
Resisting the urge to say “I told you so” because he didn’t listen, you head back inside. “Come on, unless you wanna stay in your pajamas.”
While Ace gets cleaned up in the bath, Deuce helps with getting breakfast ready. “Hey, do you want us to ask Riddle to come over?”
You hand a plate to Tsunotarou to bring to the table.“Why?”
“To get some protective runes made around the perimeter of your place. Maybe it’ll keep the weirdo you saw out.” There’s a huff and light growl from behind him. “Uh… is he okay?” He inches away from the irritated dragon.
You scratch the top of Tsunotarou’s head, which causes him to almost vibrate. “Something wrong, Tsunotarou? Are you worried about the weirdo too?” You chuckle when he butts your arm with his head.
“You don’t seem too worried,” Deuce points out.
“Milk or orange juice?” You hold up two jugs.
“Milk, please.”
“I mean, I think if that stranger wanted to hurt us, he would've broken down the door. The deadbolt doesn’t do much,” you say while setting down glasses. “I’ll be fine, Deuce, so don’t worry.”
“...sure,” he agrees hesitantly. You can still see the concern on his face, but before you can say anything more, Ace comes down.
“Breakfast ready?” He slides into a chair looking around expectantly.
You hand him a bowl of fruit. “No thanks to you.”
Breakfast is a lively affair with the two extra guests. Ace and Deuce keep the conversation going as they regale you with their latest adventure in detail. It goes by far too quickly for your taste. Sure your days aren’t so quiet with Tsunotarou, but it does get somewhat lonely having a one-sided conversation.
“Well, Tsunotarou, it’s just you, me and the girls again,” you say with a deep sigh. You set him on the ground with a groan. “Okay, buddy, you’re a little too heavy to hold for long periods now.”
He lets out a pitiful sound before rubbing his head against your thigh. “Come on, let's get the rest of the day started.” As you go back into the house, Tsunotarou doesn’t immediately follow.
His sharp green eyes survey the area around your home. Tongue flickering out, a low snarl starts in his chest. Something catches his eye in the trees just beyond your fence. His back bristles as he opens his mouth. Green flames swirl around his mouth as his eyes narrow.
“Tsunotarou, are you still out here?” you call, coming back outside. Lifting him up, you don’t notice the way his gaze is focused on something else. “Are you mad that I can’t carry you?” you ask with a chuckle.
The dragon doesn’t respond as he rests his snout on your shoulder. As you close the door, his gaze never leaves the line of trees. There’s a flash of yellow before the door is firmly shut.
---
To your surprise Ace and Deuce return a few days later. And even more of a surprise, Riddle is with them. You nearly slam the door in their face when you see them. Nervously looking between the two adventures, you can feel heat prickling the back of your neck. Ace avoids eye contact while Deuce sheepishly mouths an apology.
Riddle is the first to speak up. “These two let it slip that you’re harboring a dragon. Being the head of the Heartslabyul Guild, I thought it would be prudent for me to check. Rule 134 states no unregistered magical creatures within 10 miles of the guild are allowed. They must be taken to the appropriate handlers.”
Casting dirty looks at the two, you open the door wider. “Please come in, Riddle.” You rather like having your door on its hinges.
As he enters, he looks around before his gaze zeroes in on the dragon resting on the couch. “It really is a dragon…”
Ace and Deuce carefully slink past you before you shut the door. “As you can see, Riddle, he’s not a danger to anyone.” You try to smile as innocently as possible.
He turns to you. “I realize the rules may not apply to you, (Y/N), since you’re not a part of  our guild, but a dragon is dangerous regardless of its size. Ace mentioned he grew bigger last night. Who’s to say he won’t stop growing and then lay waste to everything?”
Said redhead suddenly has a keen interest in your hanging herbs. “Tsunotarou isn’t like that,” you argue. “He’s never hurt anyone and he’s been living with me of all people.” The magicless human who would be a prime target for magical creatures.
Riddle walks over to the now awake dragon. Tsunotarou regards him with keen interest unlike Ace and Deuce. They both size each other up. Riddle’s brows draw together as he continues to observe him.
“Everything okay?” you ask when the staring seems to drag on.
“Did you know there’s a curse on him?” He walks around the couch to observe Tsunotarou on all sides. The dragon doesn’t move an inch but seems fairly relaxed despite Riddle being a complete stranger.
You and the two boys share a look. “No, I didn’t. Is that why he’s so small?”
“Maybe.” He’s unsure. “It’s old magic and very powerful. I honestly don’t know what kind of curse it is.” Standing in front of Tsunotarou once more, Riddle sighs while touching his head. “This is more complicated than I thought. I’ll need to do some research before trying to determine the curse. I might have to ask Vil for his help on this.”
Sitting on the arm of the couch, you stroke Tsunotarou’s head. “Are you cursed?” you ask him. His head bobs up and down. “How come you two didn’t notice?” Your question is directed at the two bean spillers.
“They probably wrote it off as the creature's magical powers leaving a residue,” Riddle answers. He gives them a stern look. “They’ll need to go through more training later.”
Both stiffen as the color drains from their faces.
“So what now?”
Shaking his head, Riddle glances at his pocket watch. “I need to head back to the guild for tea. I’ll look into curses and consult Vil about this as well. For now, just make sure no one else sees him. We don’t want people to think a dangerous creature is on the loose and panic.”
“Alright. Thank you!” At least he’s going to try and help. You know Riddle could have decided Tsunotarou was a danger and taken him away. 
When they’re gone, you plop down on the couch. Tsunotarou immediately climbs into your lap and makes himself comfortable. “Cursed huh?” You lift his face so you can look into his eyes. “Are you secretly a prince who got cursed by an evil sorcerer and only true love's kiss can break the spell?” you ask with a teasing grin.
He stares back before blinking slowly. Laughing at the ridiculous thought, you bop his nose affectionately. “I hope Riddle figures out your curse. I’d love to see your full form.” 
3K notes · View notes
mitternz · 2 years
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gotta thank my english teacher for introducing me to some really interesting stuff otherwise i’m afraid i’ll end up illiterate by the time i’m like 25
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thexsilentxwordsmith · 5 months
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Simon "Ghost" Riley x Fem!Reader
Part 3 to Mid-day Texts
Fandom: Call of Duty
Character(s): Simon Riley, Reader
Summary: After your explosive homecoming where everything seemed to fall right into place, Simon begins to get cold feet about his feelings and what they could mean for the both of you. All seems bleak until a text about someone harassing you while you're on a night out makes him come to your aid and solidifies a decision he has already made.
Word Count: 8.8 k
Warnings:
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Part 1 | Part 2
Simon’s gaze lingered a few more seconds at his office's door you had just left out of with a smile pressed to his lips. You were back and even though it was such a small occurrence in the grand scheme of things, it felt like a holiday to him. He settled back into his chair at the desk to dive back into his paperwork feeling as light as air, continuously checking his watch to count down until he could finally leave and give you the text to head over so you both could pick up again where you had just left off. 
Even as the elation of knowing you were back was still at the forefront of his mind through the rest of his day, there was a dark omen gathering at the edge of his thoughts that he was not fully conscious of yet. It sat there in the shadow like the distant accumulation of clouds before a storm.
It was nothing, he tried to tell himself, but still there it lay in wait for him…until he really understood why it was there at all.
Never had you experienced such an explosive homecoming than the one Simon gave you the second you returned from your mission. All those worries you had about him finding someone else to fill his bed had been for not as the way his lips were on yours the very second you two were alone was all the proof you needed, his yearning flowing into you until you were drunk upon it. 
That night, as you lay beside him in his bed with that post-coital glow radiating off the both of you, there was a strange calmness to the room that had not been there before. For a second it almost felt like…. No you couldn’t say it, not even just in your head. That elation you felt was that of someone returning to a familiar place after a long trip, that’s all, nothing more. 
Simon’s long, thick fingers drew slow circles along the curve of your hip as you lay close while he finished off the last of his cigarette. Crushing the butt into the ashtray on the table beside the bed, he pulled you against his bare chest that was still warm and pink from the rigorous activity you both had been engaged in. Your head rested on his pectoral, your ear pressed against it so you could hear the repetitious thumping of his heartbeat. 
Listening to the calming rhythm fill your head, the only sound in the room beside your collective breathing, your eyelids began to droop and your head became more heavy as it lulled forward. Amber eyes took notice and yet Simon didn’t say a word, not yet. With a gentle touch he ran his fingertips along your spine up and down as he watched a smile just barely breach the line of your lips.
If you had been more awake you would have heard that rhythmic thumping quicken in tempo as the man who swore only a short time ago that this was nothing more than a fling was caught off guard by how perfectly you fit against him as you lay there in his arms. It was more wonderful than he could have asked for.  
Quietly Simon cleared his throat. “Ya can stay the night, if ya want,” that low, gruff voice brought you back from the brink of sleep, making you stir against his bare chest. 
You rubbed your eyes, only then realizing that you had dozed off. “Guess I’m more exhausted than I thought,” you chuckled as you stretched, hoping the increased blood flow to your limbs would rouse you.
“You’ve been gone a while and left us both high an dry; I might get a hankerin’ for a midnight snack since I’ve been starvin’ for over a fuckin’ month. Just stay.”
You chuckled soft as you nuzzled back down onto his chest, throwing your arm over top of his abdomen to secure you to him. “Fine,” you agreed, trying to sound as nonchalant as possible while your stomach did backflips; in your sleepy state you couldn’t tell if you had pulled it off or not. “But it’s only because I’m already fucking comfortable and walking all the way back to my barracks would be hell right now. Promise I’ll be sure to be gone by sunrise.”
"Sure, sure," he chuckled as he hunkered down into the bed with you wrapped in his embrace.
He should have been more than content to lay there tangled together, naked bodies pressed close after how much he had missed you, but a cold sweat spread through his limbs as the minutes passed until his whole body was engulfed. As he silently watched your breathing settle into a steady pattern, your chest rising and falling lightly, his own chest grew more and more tight with the realization of what he couldn’t deny any longer; he had broken his promise to himself. This was more than emotional words conflated in the heat of the moment as he thought the confession in his office to be.
Simon had fallen in love with you…and that terrified him. 
This wasn’t like him, he wasn’t the type to be involved with someone that way; ever the stone cold sniper, dedicated to his work, living life behind a shield of anonymity that hid his face when he wanted. Attachment wasn’t something that was supposed to happen to him, that was a dangerous game that he knew well, and yet despite all that here he lay as his heart filled to the brim with an emotion he had very little experience in. 
That fear churned around in his mind as he placed a kiss to the top of your head and turned off the light before staring up at the ceiling. In the dark the shadows danced along the surface, creating patterns out of nothing as he weighed everything in his mind.  As he drifted off into sleep, unable to hold it back any longer, he was no closer to an answer then when he started. 
When you awoke Simon was passed out beside you fast asleep. Reaching down to the floor, your fingers found your watch and you brought it to your face to check the time; it was just at sunrise and you needed to go. Silently you moved out from his side and gathered your things, redressing in the attached bathroom so you wouldn’t risk waking him. Only then did you creep back over to the bed and place a soft kiss to his cheek before leaving him to sneak back to your barracks before you were caught.
As you quietly brought the door to latch and your hand released the handle, your body shivered as you were instantly hit by an overwhelming feeling of dread. There was no reason for your heart to be pounding or your hands to suddenly go clammy, but as you made your way back you just couldn’t shake this new feeling. 
It was silly, the entire time you had spent with him nothing had felt out of place. And yet that sensation persisted, rearing its ugly head completely out of thin air.
Something had shifted as you slept, something that was there to rob you of your happy homecoming, and for the rest of the day it ate at your mind so that by the time you were finished your nerves were completely frazzled. You constantly pulled your cell phone out of your pocket to check the screen, but nothing ever appeared from Simon. There could have been any number of reasons that caused him to stay silent all damn day and if you didn’t have this sinking feeling in the pit of your stomach, you probably would have focused on that. 
Today though it only served as confirmation that something was wrong.
The moment night hit and you had a spare moment as you lay in your bunk, you finally gathered the courage to face this head on and you hurriedly wrote out a text to send.
Need some company tonight?
You sent the text and watched as it went through, but there was no quick reply, no instant confirmation that he wanted to see you as soon as you could get your ass over there. Radio silence.
Setting your phone down beside you on your bed, you tried to focus on your book to pass the time, but you could not pry your thoughts away from drifting back to your phone. It took all your will not to keep flipping the damned thing over to check the screen for what you knew would be nothing. The minutes ticked on in agonizing fashion until finally you felt your phone vibrate and you rushed to pick it up. One text glared back at you.
Bit busy tonight, maybe later alright? 
Fuck. 
It felt like you had been shot as a stinging sensation ran through your chest. Night after night you had gone over there no matter the conditions: if he was busy, if he was tired, if he was stressed. Whatever it was he still made it his mission to have you both sweating and out of breath…and now nothing. 
Days passed under the same excuse with slight variation, always that he was busy or too tired or just didn’t feel up to company. You'd repeat to yourself that this was just a dry spell and that things would pick back up soon. Then one week became two and two weeks became three and at that point you had to be honest with yourself that something had happened that caused him to back away from you. 
Had you done something in your tired state that made him push away? Came on too strong, said something out of turn? You stopped messaging him and he didn’t try to contact you outside of a few minor things here and there concerning work.
For something that was supposed to be casual, the sudden lack of it was causing you to become listless and reclusive, to the point that when off duty you would seclude yourself in your barracks. Days seemed to stretch on in endless fashion as what was once a major part of them was no longer available to you and that left you in a state of confusion. Why did it bother you so much? You knew the terms- this was just a casual thing.
And yet you knew there was more to it than that. You didn’t want to admit that you had…no, you couldn’t… but the signs were as clear as day. You had fallen for him and now you had to suffer the pain of rejection.  
Simon’s company was something you had grown accustomed to: the smell of his cigarettes at the end of the night, the weight of his hand on your bare hip as you both sat in silence coming down from that euphoric high, those random texts he’d send either asking to see you or checking in. Now all that familiarity had nowhere to go and it left you empty.
Why did you have to go and break the only rule that could ultimately destroy you? Why did you have to fall in love?
Sulking alone in your room after hours, you gave yourself a few more days to feel sorry for yourself before you had had enough. If Simon was moving on, then you needed to as well and maybe things could get back to normal. The weekend was coming up and with no new missions on the horizon you had the whole thing to yourself. So why not go out for a bit, just to clear your head?
There was a bar within a ten minute walk from the base, a small rundown hole-in-the-wall that was filled with regulars and members from the taskforce whenever they got the chance. It wasn’t much, but a change in scenery was all you needed. A little fun wouldn’t hurt, would it? Besides maybe a few drinks would help you get out of your head, at least for the night anyway. 
No sense in waiting around for a text you knew wouldn’t come.
As you walked in amidst the sound of hard rock blasting from the jukebox against the wall, you took note of a few familiar faces among the crowd. You didn’t feel up to socializing just yet, but it was nice to know that if you got the hankering for conversation later there would be someone there you sort of knew.
There were several empty seats situated around the sparsely filled bar as most were stationed in groups at the tables scattered throughout and you took your place amongst the few regulars before ordering a beer from the bartender. You’d gotten halfway through slowly sipping at your drink, messing about on your phone when a text popped up on screen and you couldn’t believe who it was from.
It was Simon.
Where are you? Went by your barracks and you weren’t there.
He was looking for you? You had not expected to hear from him at all tonight, but to see the words written out that he had come by to look for you made your heart skip a beat. It felt like being a teenager again, getting worked up for your crush to message you and you hated how quick you were to get excited to have him talk to you again after all that distance. 
You sat there with your phone in hand, debating if you even wanted to text him back yet or not. On one hand it would be nice to let him suffer for a bit, but that wouldn’t accomplish anything. This was supposed to be a casual hookup relationship and you were acting like you were dating. Simon was only acting as he would in your type of situation; why punish him for that?
At the bar. Wanted to get out.
You shot the text back and instantly another followed behind.
Are you coming back soon?
Did he need another fix, is that why he was so curious? I mean, it wasn’t entirely out of the question, though you would need to take the edge off a little more before you saw him again; you had to be sure you wouldn’t let your feelings make this complicated. You still wanted to have sex with him and that was enough…you guessed. At least it was something.
Just as you were about to text him back to let him know that you’d be back soon and ask if he wanted to meet at his, you felt the presence of someone standing at your elbow. As you turned and looked up, you found yourself face to face with a strange, greasy-haired man that you had briefly caught a glimpse of earlier sitting at the other end of the bar. 
“Well hello pretty lady,” he greeted you, his speech a little slurred. He stumbled as he came to sit in the bar stool right next to you, almost spilling his drink in your lap. “Care for some company? Name’s Dylan by the way.”
“I’m good,” you instantly shot back as your nose wrinkled and your lips contorted into a frown. “Thanks anyway.”
You turned your attention back to your phone only to be met with a hand on your arm as he began to stroke it up and down. “Come on baby, don’t be like that. You can’t be having much fun over here all by your lonesome. I’ve been told I’m pretty good at making beautiful ladies laugh.”
Quickly you snapped your arm back out of his reach. “I said I’m good,” you repeated a little more forcefully this time, hoping that the hint would be taken as you’d give him one chance to walk away with his dignity still intact if he wanted. 
“No need to get heated,” he shot back, not taking anything but the time to keep harassing you. “I just want to chat. You could at least give me a chance. Maybe you’ll enjoy yourself more than you think.”
“Doubtful,” you sneered. “Do you always corner women in bars to get them to talk to you? Seems like maybe you’re not as good a conversationalist as you think you are. Now, if you’ll excuse me.”
Pushing the stool out a little you made to get up and leave, but as you stood so did Dylan and his hand was already around your wrist before you could step away. Your eyes flashed over to where the bartender should have been, but he must have popped into the back and those around you both acted as if they didn’t see a thing. Quickly you darted your eyes over to the table where the others from base had been and your heart sank as you didn’t know where they went; this might actually be a problem.
Just what you needed tonight.
Back at base something felt off about how you hadn’t answered yet, causing Simon’s pulse to quicken in his veins, almost as if he could sense through the phone the situation unfolding. He leaned against the outside wall of your barracks and took another long drag of his cigarette as he watched his phone screen closely. The way his stomach began to churn and his whole body felt tense forced him to hurriedly send a follow up text. If he looked dumb, at least his mind would be put at ease. 
You alright?
Your phone buzzed in your hand, but Dylan wouldn’t let go of your wrist even as you struggled in his grasp. Maneuvering the small rectangle in your free hand, you used your thumb as best you could to type out your message. You didn’t want Simon to worry; you’d be done with this douchebag soon enough.  
Sorry. Gotta creep that doesn’t understand no.
Give me a min, might have to get physical.
He quickly read the message the instant it pulled up on the screen and his cig slipped from his fingers as his blood ran cold. You were in trouble, that’s all he read and it was like a switch had been flipped. Instantly Simon perked up and began moving as fast as his strong legs could carry him off base and towards the bar with murder on his mind. 
Thank Christ it was just under a ten minute walk; his blood pressure was already so high he could hear his heartbeat pulsating in his ears as he spotted the front door just a few feet away. Finally reaching the door, he grabbed the handle and flung it open with force.
Roaming eyes instantly clocked your back as you stood facing a man who had his hands on you and as he came closer he made out the slurred speech of the man fixing to be on a slab in the morgue if he didn’t remove himself immediately.
“You don’t want to cause a scene do you?” Dylan smirked as you tried to rip your arm out of his grasp. “I promise I’m not all bad; I can treat you real good if you just give me the chance. Never been with a military girl before. I bet you could teach me a few things.”
Your mouth was open, the words already on your tongue when you watched as the man at your elbow stopped and his attention was drawn behind you. Then you felt it, another presence to add to the mix, except you already knew who it was before he spoke.
“Get the fuck away from ‘er,” Simon’s low growl sounded as he stalked up behind you, “or you’re gonna wish you fuckin’ had.”
The man before you looked behind you wide-eyed at the massive figure of Simon standing at your back, but he couldn’t back down, not when his ego was on the line. Somewhere in that alcohol riddled brain he came to the conclusion that if he could just get the big man to leave that you would eventually give in to him. 
Again he reached his hand out to grope your arm as you wrenched it out of the way. “Look pal,” the slimy bastard addressed him snidely, “I don’t know who the fuck you think you are, but this isn’t what it looks like so why don’t you just go along. We were just having a little fun, weren’t we baby?” 
“No, we fucking weren’t,” you hissed back as you joined Simon in glaring him down.
“Ya heard ‘er,” Simon immediately jumped to your defense, “so even though I rarely like repeatin’ myself, I’ll tell you one more time. Get. The fuck. Away. From ‘er.”
The rage in his voice made you shudder with its intensity. Though you could not see it, you knew by the way he spoke through his teeth that his jaw was clenched tight, matching what you could see which were his fists tensing so tight that it was turning his knuckles white. Shit just the aura radiating off of him was so full of wrath that there was no mistaking just how angry he was. 
The man took another swig of liquid courage before he grimaced with a shake of his head. “You think you can just waltz over and steal this sweet little thing out from under me?” he challenged, stepping in closer to you to get in Simon’s face. “I saw her first, she came here alone. So, she’s gonna be coming home with me; I can be very persuasive when I want to be.”
He reached out to you once more and actually got a bit of a substantial caress this time on your hip; instantly Simon saw nothing but red.
That was fucking it. Whatever modicum of decorum Simon possessed up until now completely flew out the window the moment that bastard had even brought up trying to get you to go home with him. And now he had watched him touch you?! If he didn’t back off now, they would be carrying him out in a body bag.
It didn’t matter anymore of who saw or heard what; if the guys back at base figured it out from the buzz of talk that would come from tonight or if it somehow got all the way back to Price tomorrow, Simon wasn’t about to let this fucking creep keep putting his filthy hands and lay claim to what belonged to him.
“She may ‘ave come here alone, but she’s wit me,” Simon again growled as his accent became more pronounced, this time with enough venom that it could have burnt a hole through the floor. “So I suggest you get your fuckin’ hand off my girl before you go home wit one fewer. Or test me and see what prize ya get. I’ve been itchin’ to try out my new Bowie knife. Supposed to be the sharpest on the market; maybe we should see how well it carves you up.”
As he spoke, his strong forearm snaked its way from behind you and wrapped itself securely around your waist so that as he took a step forward your back was right up against his chest. Through the shadow of his balaclava, those chestnut eyes glared daggers down into the man, daring him to make a move and give him a reason to commit murder, but lucky for him that Dylan’s brain finally reactivated in time. The intimidation had worked and the greasy piece of shit gave you both a nasty, agitated look before he grabbed his beer and walked off somewhere further into the opposite side of the bar.
Once he was out of sight, Simon quickly spun you around in his arms, his hands cupping around your cheeks as you came to face him. Those brown eyes softened as they shifted from anger to concern as he looked you over, checking down the line of your body for any signs that that bastard had done anything more to you that he hadn’t seen yet. “Ya alright?” he questioned. “He didn’t do anythin’ to hurt ya, did he?”
The question went right past you as your mind was reeling from the entire encounter the moment that you heard Simon’s voice behind you. You knew you had heard exactly what had been said, but was it all an act to get the man to leave?… you couldn’t be sure, but it was enough to put your mind into turmoil.
You were drawn out of your thoughts by more indistinct talking from Simon. “Hmm?” you asked as you met his eyes again. 
“I asked if ya were okay to go,” he repeated, the pad of his thumb rubbing gently over the hollow of your cheek to bring you back into the moment.
“Yeah,” you muttered with a nod of your head as Simon let you go so you could double check you had everything. You paid your tab and with his hand on the small of your back, he ushered you both out the front doors.
Once outside, the cool night air wrapped itself around you, easing that tension in your chest from the stifling atmosphere of the bar as you both began to walk back the short distance to the base in silence. So many questions you had, so much uncertainty about what had just happened, that you were so consumed with your thoughts that you hadn’t realized you were back at Simon’s room until he was opening the door and you were following him inside like a lost pup.    
He offered you a seat on the only thing he really had, his bed, and you took it just as you had done so many times it was almost like second nature to you now. Squatting down before you, he looked you over once more.
“Are ya really alright?” he asked the question again now in a more subdued setting where you could hopefully think more clearly.
“I’m fine,” you reassured him. “Annoyed, but fine.”
Why did it feel like that wasn’t the real question he was asking?
His eyes peered deep into your face a moment as if he was searching for something behind the surface, but it passed quickly and soon he stood back up to his full height and let the silence take back over. You allowed the moment to fall away as a more pressing question lingered on the tip of your tongue, gnawing at your mind until you couldn't ignore it any longer, one that you had almost forgotten all about in the chaos. 
"So, what were you doing earlier, looking for me I mean?" you asked, genuinely curious.
He cleared his throat and shifted in his stance. "It's…complicated…" he started, but something caused him to pause.
As you waited for him to reply, everything hit you all at once as if suddenly stirred by being in his room and it felt hard to breathe. It had been going so well until that second, being here surrounded in that specific familiarity again, but fuck it brought too much baggage with it. Memories aroused by the feeling of his sheets against your hand, the scent of his room, the proximity to him after all that space was overwhelming and you could feel your shoulders begin to tense. 
You had to get out and soon before you did or said something you’d regret.
“I should really go,” you said all of a sudden, just as Simon found his voice. “You can always tell me later, it's fine. We’ll need to keep our distance for a bit in case a private or someone saw what happened. Don’t want them to misconstrue what they thought was going on.”
Still and silent, Simon watched you through the mask a moment as you stood back to your feet. “Thank you though for coming to help, I really appreciate it,” the genuine sentiment prominent in your voice as you gave him a smile. Taking a few steps you moved to leave by walking past him, but his hand shot out from his side and grabbed your wrist to keep you from moving any further. 
“Don’t,” he muttered softly.
Your heart skipped a beat, you couldn’t help it.  A thousand times you’d heard him bark orders to the new recruits and this was nothing compared to that. His tone wasn’t demanding or harsh; it was soft and almost pleading. And against your mind telling you to go, you could do nothing else except stop right where you stood.
He moved his hand down to yours and kept it locked in his grasp as he reached up to his face and slid his balaclava up the back of his head until it came off of his chin, revealing those striking features that you hadn’t seen much of these days. Idly he turned your hand over in his so that the palms were touching and he could place his fingers between the spaces. You looked down at the connection and then up into his face where you were met with him staring straight back at you with such intensity it took your breath away.
“I’m sorry,” he apologized to break the silence.
You cleared your throat, desperately trying to keep your head about all this. “About tonight?” you asked, sure that was what he was referring to. “It’s fine. I’ve dealt with many creeps over my lifetime. He won’t be the last, but I’m tough. Would have handed his ass to him in a minute, even if you hadn't come to my rescue.”
Simon shook his head as he took a step closer, nearly against you now. The air around you shifted to become thick with intentions that had not yet been spoken, but were on the horizon. “No, don’t mean ‘bout what happened tonight.”
Everything stood still, even time itself within that space that existed around just the both of you. Your pounding heartbeat pulsed hard until you could hear it in your ears as he moved in completely, taking your cheek in his free hand as he leaned his head down to rest his forehead against your own. Eyes closed, you held your breath as you waited for him to speak. 
“I know you ‘eard what I said back there. Look, I tried to keep this casual like we agreed, I really fuckin’ did, luv, but watchin’ that goddamn pig put his hands on ya solidified everything for me…” he took a breath as his heart too was nearly beating out of his chest and you could feel his pulse through his hand still wrapped in yours. “I… I don’t want casual anymore.”
“What?” It felt like a dream, this couldn’t possibly be real… could it? Was he really saying what you thought he was?
A slight chuckle at your reaction, he continued. “When ya left on that mission, I thought it’d be fine; you’d return and we’d get back to what we do best: passin’ the time by in each other's company. Maybe the separation would do us some fuckin’ good, give us time to cool off. Then I spent over a month’s worth of nights without even seein’ ya once and it was fuckin’ torture. The way I missed ya was too strong for casual.”
“Then why…?” you started the confused question.
“Avoid ya?” he finished it. “I’m not the best at this shit and I panicked. For that I'm more sorry than ya know. But ya need to understand…I know I can be rough ‘round the edges; I’m the last person that deserves somethin’ as soft and gentle as you, sweetheart. Thought if I kept my distance, we could go back to just foolin’ ‘round. But I realized I don’t wanna go back; I want to try this, us, because fuck I can’t stand not havin’ ya all to myself. I want you…really, truly, only you…”
He was close, the warmth of his body as he came down from that rush of adrenaline made the air around you both heated. Moving his head until your lips were almost touching, bodies molded into the curves of one another, his fingertips brushed against your cheek as his gaze never wavered from the lower half of your face. 
"Are…are you sure?" you asked hesitantly, as if he would take it all back in an instant.
He nodded against your head. “I want us to be together. Say you'll be mine,” he whispered, hot breath so close to your mouth you could feel it tingle across the skin of your lips. "I need ta hear ya say you'll be with me.”
Your head may have been foggy by the tension flowing between your bodies, but there was nothing you were ever more sure of than this being what you wanted. Without a moment of hesitation, you gave him his answer. “Simon, you idiot,” you chided him gently, “I was already yours. You’re the only one I want to be with.”
Moist lips were already capturing your own by the time the ending sound of the last word left your mouth as if he were trying to swallow the words down so you could not take them back. Kisses like fire peppered your lips, his entire mouth enveloping your own with nose pressed into his cheek so that you could barely breathe and yet you did not try to escape.
Everywhere his fingers went as they caressed the lines of your body left trails of sensitive nerve endings bursting to life, sending waves of delicious tingles coursing through your limbs until they reached the very top of your head. Something in the way he touched you was like he was trying to take all those feelings you both knew you had for each other and capture it to hold in the palms of his hands; he could not get enough.
Whatever lingering bit of upset that still clung to you was dissipated the longer he molded your bodies together until there was nothing left. You knew the type of man Simon was, knew that raw emotion was not something he had much experience in; for him to be so vulnerable about what he wanted, he was trying to prove that he was willing to change- for you. And that was enough to make you forgive him for everything. 
"Please," he groaned into your open mouth, his hands dancing around your waist near the bottom of your shirt."I need ta be inside ya."
Your smile was on his lips. "Then what are you waiting for? Can't leave my boyfriend suffering," you replied with just as much desperation and that was all the confirmation he required.
Simon hadn't held that title in a long, long time, but something about how it sounded in your sweet voice made him feral and he was lost to anything but how you felt against him and how he would feel in you.
Grabbing the hem of your shirt with his exploring fingers, he released your mouth only long enough to rip it off over your head and toss it somewhere onto his floor. He had seen you naked dozens of times, had learned all the parts of your anatomy by touch alone, and yet here in this moment it was like seeing you for the first time again. 
"Christ, luv, you are always such a pretty sight," he said, pupils dilating as he took a lingering moment to run those rough fingers along the side of your breast all the way to your hip. "I am one lucky bastard to have such a beauty for a girlfriend."
Fuck, you both were so drunk on the other that there was only one need that desperately had to be met and that was to feel your bodies become one and solidify this relationship. This wasn't just sex, this had become something more. You were now connected and wanted to reflect that physically just as it was emotionally. Everything went quickly after that: clothes being removed in a mess of heated breath and tangled parts, until both of you stood completely bare before the other. 
He held onto you as he moved you both together closer to the bed where he sat back, pulling you into his lap onto the mattress. "I was a goddamn fuckin' fool to push away from ya like that," he said breathlessly as he helped you to situate yourself on him where he had you lean backward so that your back was pressed against his chest. "You are the only one for me, the only one that makes all this fuckin' hell worth somethin'."
His cock throbbed wildly between your thighs and up against his stomach, that aching tip with its dribble of precum begging to be allowed inside of your silky walls, but it wasn’t time for that yet. You were his focus, the one he wanted to bear penance to, and so securing you to him with a strong arm around your waist, his other hand rubbed across the length of your thigh until he decided to slip it in the crevasse between them.
"I am neva gonna let you go again, I fuckin’ swear it," his humid breath purred at your ear as he palmed your sex, catching the damp heat in his hand. “You’re mine, sweetheart. Mine.”
You opened your legs wider, until your thighs were on the outside of his. He extended his middle finger and drug it across the slit in your petals until he split them open and plunged it deep inside. You bucked in his grasp at the shock of his touch, back arching in a jolt as he ran that one finger along the length of your cunt, mouth falling agape as he found your clit and began to rub circles around the bundle. 
“Simon,” your soft voice moaned his name as your head fell back to his shoulder and he smirked as he kissed your cheek.
“I do fuckin’ love the way ya say my name, luv,” he groaned. 
It was like your lips turned sound into gold and never had a man felt more rich than he did. 
His finger locked onto your clit continued in its steady rhythm while he risked moving his hand up to massage your breast so he could stimulate the nipple till it grew hard enough that he could lightly twist it between his fingers. A gasp escaped from your mouth into the room at the multiple points of sensitivity getting his attention that it was making your thoughts hazy. “I need ya so fuckin’ bad all the time I feel like I’m constantly burnin’,” he whispered more of his yearning words into your ear. “I should have known by how much I craved ya even from the start that it was never just gonna remain casual. You and I were meant to be.”
Your body felt like it was on a cloud, so feather light with pleasure that even his words added to the euphoria.  Placing your hands on either side of your bodies onto the mattress you used the leverage to roll your hips onto his hand, grinding down in rhythm with the stroke of his finger. The heat from your body working its hardest the closer it got to its release caused sweat to bead along your forehead. 
Not wanting to leave any part of you unloved, he switched his hand to your other breast where the nipple already stood hard and raised, waiting for him as he continued his confessions. “Even after I made ya come, ya still wanted to linger around like I was somethin’ special,” his bassy voice hummed in your head, “fuck was that addictive. Whenever ya left I’d get a knot in my stomach, cause I missed ya bein’ near. All the excuses I made to keep you hangin’ ‘round just a little longer were all bullshit. I just wanted ya to stay with me.”
Your pace quickened as he spoke, breathing heavy and labourous, spurred on by the longing in his words that made you ache. To finally hear the sheer extent of his want for you, goddamn it was like a deep inhale after holding your breath for far too long; there was no hiding anymore, no more skirting around feelings that were surfacing. You could let go and experience the full capacity of everything he had to give you without fear or confusion. 
A sharp hiss of air between his lips as he rocked along with your movements, enjoying how lost you were in the depths of your oncoming release. “Fuckin’ hell, baby,” he groaned, his fingers coated in your warm juices as it nearly dripped to his palm. “Couldn’t say it before, but I can now. I am so smitten with ya I can’t see straight.”
Christ, Simon’s cock was so hard, the tip so swollen that the slightest bump from your thigh was enough that he felt like he might blow before he even got the chance to be inside you. The adrenaline from his admissions didn’t help either as skin felt like it was on fire and the way you moved over top of him had him grasping at anything to keep him sane until he could get you off once before diving in.
Your orgasm was approaching fast and your ability to think, let alone talk, was disrupted to the point that all you could do was grind harder on his hand and focus on remembering how to breathe. That pressure gathered as you rushed towards the peak, your muscles in your abdomen tightening as Simon leaned into your ear one more time to whisper the final thing that he wanted you to know about all this. 
“Ya are my addiction,” he breathed into the skin of your neck before his lips latched on to suck and bite along all that tender meat. 
And all at once it was over. The dam broke, completely exploded as the flood could not be contained a second more and as your head flew back with eyes closed you came so hard that you nearly knocked him over, but just as he had said earlier, he had you. Those fingers milked your clit through your orgasm for all it was worth, stroking out every last bit until there was nothing more for you to give him and you sank down into a puddle in his arms. 
He held you snug in his embrace as he stippled kisses along the edge of your jawline and down your neck, delicate pecks as the ecstasy played itself out. “That’s it sweetheart, ride it out. All the way for me,” he groaned his praises. “I want ya to have your fill.”
Minutes passed with all your focus put solely on steadying your erratic breathing and racing pulse, until finally you were able to collect yourself. Only then did Simon give you a gentle nudge with his hand against your ass. “Get up,” he directed as he helped you to stand, turning you around to face him before guiding you back down to kneel over his lap, that thick cock twitching between your thighs. “I need to see those pretty eyes.”
Positioning your body over top of him, Simon held your hips tightly in his grasp as he led them down over the top of his lap. The head of his cock prodded against the folds of your cunt until he was able to slip between them, that first sensation of all that warm slick coating him making his torso shudder as he drug the length through the petals. 
“Ya want this inside ya, pretty girl? Want me to fill that tight little cunt full of me?” he grunted as he continued to slather his cock in your cum. “Come on sweetheart, let me hear ya say it. I need to hear ya say it.”
Shit, the wind was knocked from your lungs, head lolling back as you felt all that delicious girth resting between your legs so close to its goal and yet still so far. You squirmed in his grip, trying to wrestle that fucking appendage inside you, but goddammit Simon had you firmly. Quickly you nodded your reply. “Please, Simon, please,” you begged, not caring how pathetic you sounded. “I need you inside me so bad. Please.”
That was the most he could tease as he was rocking dangerously close to the fucking edge and there was no way he would allow himself to come without taking you with him. Having you sit up again he aligned the tip with your entrance and as he guided your hips back down he pressed into it and in he went. He shoved your body down until you sat against his thighs so that he was buried in you to the base.
“Fuck,” he whined as abs clenched while his body convulsed so that he had to cling to you tight, fingers drilling into the muscle at your sides that would surely leave marks tomorrow. Christ you always felt like heaven. 
Your arms locked around the back of his neck to keep you from falling off, delicate whimpers dripping from your lips as his cock nestled securely inside to stretch you good and full to the brim. It pulsed and throbbed against your walls like a heartbeat deep in your core, its rhythm making your body tremble to the cadence of a dance that only you two had perfected.
“Fuckin’ hell you feel so good,” he sighed. 
More primal instinct overtook you as your mind crumbled to the euphoria of the connection of your bodies. Being on top you were in control of the pace and set it nice and easy as you rolled your hips till he loosened his grip and you could add a bit of bounce to the movement, using your knees to push off the mattress. Simon released your hips and gave you the reins to use him as you wanted, instead opting to palm as much of your ass as he could in each hand.
Massaging each cheek as he used his strength to take some of the pressure off your legs, he groaned desperately into your face, the last bit of speech he would be able to create for the moment as your body became his paradise. “That’s it, pretty girl, fuckin’ use me.”  
You ground your hips harder into his pelvis to engage your swollen clit like you couldn’t get enough of the way it felt. Your fingertips tingled with the prickling sensation of them running over the cropped bottom of Simon’s blonde locks as you rode him, every part of you from your head down to your toes in pure bliss. It was overwhelming, intense, mind-numbing, and you did not want it to stop. 
You were consumed with the pleasure of him and nothing else.
The desire to kiss again intensified, but the ecstasy running like magma through your veins left you both unable to do little else than to moan and gasp uncontrollably into each other's slack mouths, moist air being siphoned between one mouth into the other. Damp hair clung to the sides of your face and the back of your neck as the muscles in your thighs strained and flesh stuck against sweaty flesh.
Too much, too fucking much, and yet he need even more. Simon could not stand it any longer, the need to drill into you took over him and leaning himself back slightly he held your hips in place as he thrust up into you with strong snaps of his pelvis. The pressure of his cock being forced into your dripping cunt caused wet, slapping sounds to fill the space to accentuate the squeaking now emanating from the springs in his bed.
The pace was now his and by its slowly increasing speed you knew he was getting close; he only got this desperate when he was about to finish. You were right there with him, the stimulation of your clit helping to start that warm tightening in your stomach so that now you were so sensitive it would not take much more from him to send you over the edge.
More aggressively he thrust inside all the way up until he reached the base of his phallus, nearly bottoming out in you the harder he went. It was impossible not to get lost in the feeling of something so silky, so tight, so warm, not when it belonged to someone he needed like air. Goddammit he was aching to come, the struggle about to give out at any minute.
His hand pawed at your face, holding you by the cheek to prop your head up as you bobbed with his thrusts so that those amber eyes could meet yours. “Come with me baby,” he made his grunted plea, “come on, I wanna do this togetha. Are ya close?”
You nodded exaggeratedly to convey the messages since you were still not able to form words. Thrust after thrust he continued to pound into you, each one making that knot in your stomach grow stronger and stronger until finally like the flick of a switch it was over and you cried out as you came all over his cock, shuddering as the electric spark snaked its way up your spine while you sticky juices dripped down to his pelvis.
Simon, having completed his work, finally allowed himself to let go and he came with a fury and a shaky loud groan that ripped out from his chest. His body convulsed as he drained his swollen balls dry. “That’s it, that’s it sweetheart,” he repeated over and over breathlessly as you both rode out that high through to the very end. 
You fell forward into him, exhausted and satisfied while he still clung to your body so that his warm breath wafted over your shoulder as he came back down from the ecstasy. He didn't want to let you go and you were more than content to stay nestled in his arms for as long as possible just to feel him. After a moment his sweat-speckled forehead came to rest on your shoulder, his arms never loosening one bit.
“No one ever gets me like this, save for you,” he whispered into your skin before placing a kiss to seal it in. “And no one is ever gonna get the chance now cause I ain’t ever gonna let ya go.” 
Eventually his heart rate slowed enough that he could breathe normally again and as he did he eased you both down to the mattress on your sides so that his arms could stay wrapped tight. Against his chest he held you close as his fingers ran long, gentle lines along your spine and up into your hair in a tender gesture that soothed you back down into a calm.
At least your body was, but this was uncharted territory you were dealing with now that you had both made it official to one another and that brought along with it a whole slew of new dilemmas that you would face. And of course, you being the one to always be prepared, couldn’t help but bring up a few in that comfortable post-coital silence that followed.  
"You know that we are going to have to be even more careful now," you mused aloud. "What if a recruit tries to hit on me or something? What if I slip up and tell them about us?"
“Doesn’t matter what ya tell 'em. You're taken, so just tell 'em that,” he muttered sleepily as he worked those digits over your skin. 
“I don’t think Price is gonna be happy with us if and when he finds out we’re in a relationship,” you commented, still stuck on the line of thinking currently plaguing your mind. "I don't want you to get in trouble or anything, ya kn…."
His strong hands were already wrapped around your cheeks in an instant as Simon leaned into your face to peck your lips to stop you from speaking. “Stop fuckin’ worrin’, sweetheart. I don’t care,” he reassured softly. “We can figure all that shit out later. Right now, I want to lay ‘ere with my girl; fuck the rest. I'm not runnin', not anymore, so there’s plenty of time for us to work this out.”
His girl. His. Yeah, you could get used to him calling you that.
As you snuggled back down against him, you weren’t sure what this new development would bring for you both in the coming days, if it would be a struggle or not, but you knew that nothing could be as hard as not being together. Whatever it was you had to do to preserve this, you would.
Tag list: @ashcarmine @moviefreak1205 @dragonstoneshortcake
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cantstoptheimagines · 10 months
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Hunger (Carmy Berzatto | The Bear)
Summary — Things boil over between you and Carmy.
Warnings & Other Tags ➳ Smut (including a lowkey ‘Chef’ kink, Reader being referred to as ‘good girl’, also like one mention of birth control); Carmy mentions never having a girlfriend, so I’m rolling with that (aka Never-Been-Kissed!Virgin!Carmy is upon us!!); a little bit of angst on the side; mentions of childhood trauma and resulting body insecurities (Carmy); cursing (especially the canon-typical ‘Fuck!’); coworkers to lovers with a touch of idiots in love; some typical Original Beef arguments in the kitchen (including Carmy getting put in his place after being extremely mean); Reader accidentally gets burned by hot food; Reader is a waitress with an attitude; my attempts at casual, non-flowery, awkward, quiet conversation between Carmy and the Reader, so please don’t come after me if it sucks, lmao.
Notes ➳ Word Count is 7,942. This is a slow, slow, slow burn! Enjoy it, baby! ➳ Reader uses feminine pronouns (she/her). ➳ This is slightly inspired by the chaos of Season 1, Episode 7. I also want to add that this draft was started before the release of Season 2, so absolutely no spoilers in this one!
FAQ | Masterlist | Fandoms | Requests | Coming Soon | Schedule  
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Everything was a complete mess. An expected lunch rush had sent everything and everyone at The Beef into chaos.
You had a line of customers waiting on takeout orders while others were hoping for a table to open up. Some had immediately turned around at the door after seeing the crowd.
Richie stood behind the counter, trying his best to keep up. He gave you a nod as you cleared another table. The fake, ‘customer service’ smile on your face fell as soon as you left the dining room and entered the kitchen. Angel and Manny were both instantly by your side, taking the dishes from your arms. 
Your sigh of relief, however, didn’t last long. As soon as you turned, you were met by Sydney, who shoved a dish at you, shouting, “Hands! Once that’s out, I need you to come back for a sandwich and a salad!”
You barely caught the plate, replying, “Heard!” 
The plate was warm against your hands. The food, however, was burning hot when it flew off the dish and onto your exposed skin as someone interrupted your cry of, “Corner—!”
The plate shattered once it hit the floor, covering the tile in a mess of food. Sauce dripped down your clothes and practically seared your flesh. Amidst the hectic kitchen, only Sydney seemed to notice. She stared at you with a shocked expression as tears welled up in your eyes from the pain.
“—fucking going?!”
You blinked, clutching your blistering hand. You could already feel your skin becoming overly tender. Tears began to slide down your cheeks. Nearby, Tina had paused to see what the commotion was about with concerned eyes.
In front of you stood Carmy. Out of everyone who worked at The Beef, he was the person you were closest to. However, that didn’t mean he wasn’t an asshole sometimes, especially when the restaurant was busy like today.
Your eyebrows furrowed, and then you quietly asked, “What?”
The flaring pain you were feeling made it almost impossible to focus on what anyone was saying or doing. Carmy’s words, on the other hand, were loud and clear as he took a step closer and shouted, “I asked if you can watch where you’re fucking going?!” 
Your cheeks were wet with tears, which you couldn’t stop from falling, no matter how hard you blinked. Carmy was toe-to-toe with you. He was so close that you could see the sweat on his skin and the red flush of his cheeks. His teeth were gritted as he stared at you with fiery eyes. 
“Carmy,” you took a deep breath, closing your eyes for a moment, “don’t yell at me.”
He came even closer, shoes nearly slipping on the sauce that covered the tile. You avoided meeting his gaze as you continued holding your injured hand. Thankfully, the other one wasn’t as bad, though it still ached. 
“Why the fuck not, huh?!” he continued. “Open your damn eyes next time—!”
“Carmy, stop!” you demanded. “I’m hurting right now and you’re not helping—!”
“Maybe you wouldn’t be if you used your fucking brain!” he snapped, taking two fingers and harshly tapping them against your temple.
You tried to take a step back, only for him to follow. You pressed your lips together in an effort to contain yourself. Sure, you were used to Carmy’s regular outbursts, but this was on a whole other level.
His nose brushed against yours with how close he was standing. Sydney reached out, placing an arm between the two of you, though it wasn’t much help. Tina was slowly coming closer. Everyone else in the kitchen had stopped working to cautiously watch the scene. Even Richie had paused service in the front to stand in the kitchen doorway, ready to step in if he needed to.
“Don’t fucking talk to me like that, Carmy—!”
“I’ll do whatever I fucking want—!”
Richie finally spoke up, “Hey, cousin, leave ‘er alone, alright—?”
“I’m gonna fuck you up if don’t get outta my face—!”
Sydney was beginning to sweat, “Chef! Please calm down—!”
“If you can’t handle the heat, stay out of my fucking kitchen—!”
SLAP!
“¡Ay, mierda!” exclaimed Tina, mouth agape as your uninjured hand suddenly struck Carmy’s cheek.
The silence that took over was almost deadly. Carmy licked his lips and clenched his jaw. His cheek was already turning bright red with your handprint. A million thoughts ran through his mind as he stared at you.
“If you don’t have anything nice to say to me,” you glared, “then don’t fucking talk, Carmen! You can fuck off instead!”
Carmy kissed his teeth, refusing to open his mouth. Instead, he watched as you whipped around and stormed away from him. You were once again holding your injured hand, in which the pain was only growing worse by the second, as you disappeared around a corner without looking back.
Carmy closed his eyes and ran his hands over his face. He didn’t even need to look at the expressions of his coworkers’ faces to know that he had fucked up big time.
His eyes met Sydney’s as he tugged at his thick hair. She, however, only turned away and returned to calling out orders after shaking her head. Richie, meanwhile, gave him the finger before going back to the front to continue lunch service. Everyone else in the kitchen either gave him harsh glares or stares of disappointment.
“Chef!” he called out, gaining Sydney’s attention. “I’ll be back in a few!”
Sydney slowly nodded, “Heard!” 
Carmy glanced down, looking at the mess that covered the kitchen tile, along with his work shoes. Pieces of the shattered plate were spread about as well.
“I’ll clean this up when I get back,” he said, gesturing to the floor.
“Heard!” repeated Sydney, though Carmy could tell she wished he would just leave already.
“Thank you, Chef,” he muttered.
As he passed by Marcus, the usually kind pastry chef glared at him, “You’re a real mess, Berzatto.”
Carmy sighed, slowly making his way around the same corner you disappeared behind only moments ago, “Tell me about it.”
Ebra shouted after him with a bark of laughter, “We don’t have to! You’re gonna find out when you go back there!”
Carmy rolled his eyes, turning the knob on the door that led to the back lot. That was where everyone, including you, disappeared whenever they needed to be alone.
He immediately spotted you sitting on the ground with the restaurant’s first aid kit in front of you. The injury on your hand was now covered with some burn relief gel.
You barely even glanced in his direction when the door closed behind him. The air outside was rather cold and Carmy could see the chills that covered your skin.
He nervously wrapped his hands in the hem of his apron, and then cleared his throat, “I’m sorry.” 
“Whatever,” you shook your head.
He paused, unsure of what he should say next as he blinked a few times. Finally, he licked his lips and stared down at his shoes, “Are you—uh—are you okay? I mean, you’re good?”
You scoffed quietly, shaking your head with a sardonic smile as you finished wrapping your injury with some gauze, “No, Carmy, I’m not good. Fucking asshole.”
Carmy took a deep breath, nodding slowly, “Yeah, yeah, alright. I deserve that. You—uh—gonna go early? Home, I mean? Go home early?”
You slammed the first aid kit closed, the latch snapping into place with a click! Standing up, you shoved it into Carmy’s arms, causing him to grunt at the impact against his chest. 
“Yes,” you said, “I’m going fucking home early.” 
He groaned as you pushed past him to go back inside. He slowly trailed behind you, watching you collect your coat and keys. He grimaced at the loud SLAM! of your employee locker. He knew everyone in the kitchen secretly had their ears open, each of them trying to figure out how badly Carmy had messed things up with you.
As you tried to slip past him once more, he reached out to place an arm across your front. He remained facing the empty room of employee lockers while you were facing the kitchen, forced to endure the cautious eyes of your coworkers.
With a sigh, you finally turned your gaze to him, unsure of what to make of his actions, “What?”
“Go to the doctor, alright?” he muttered, eyes gliding over your features.
Everything was much calmer now. Everyone in the kitchen seemed to have finally cleared out some of the crowd, leaving only a few stragglers. Each of them took an occasional glance at the two of you.
You bit your bottom lip. You couldn’t help but be fully aware of the way Carmy’s startling blue eyes suddenly dropped to focus on your mouth. And you definitely couldn’t stop your own gaze from doing the same, admiring the soft pink shade of his lips.
Maybe it was wrong to be so attracted to your boss. But when your boss was Carmy, you didn’t really care. And there were times, like now, when it felt as though he didn’t care either.
Sure, he could be a real asshole sometimes, but that didn’t mean he wasn’t easy on the eyes. Your eyes, more specifically.
“Yo, cousin, we’ve got—! Oh!”
Carmy finally tore his stare away from you, and said, “Just a sec, Richie.”
“Yeah,” nodded Richie, tossing his hands into the air. “Yeah, sure. Didn’t mean to interrupt... whatever this is.”
Carmy rolled his eyes before finally returning his attention to you. His stare softened and his fingers dug into the clothing that covered your hip with a gentle squeeze.
“Doctor,” he whispered, “‘kay?”
You finally muttered, “Okay, Bear.”
Carmy gave you a nod, heart pounding when he heard his nickname fall from your lips. Your hip received a few pats and a gentle rub before his arm disappeared from your path. As you walked away, he finally turned to face everyone in the kitchen, all of whom had their eyes on him.
“Well,” he said, running a hand through his hair, “get back to fucking work!”
At the same time, he could hear you ordering Richie, who had followed you to the front, to ‘shut his fucking mouth’.
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You unlocked the back entrance of The Beef. It was way past closing time and each of your coworkers had already gone home. In fact, you had only come back to get the tips you had left behind after your argument and semi-reconciliation with Carmy.
You flicked on one set of smaller lights before making your way through the kitchen and into the front room. Richie always cashed out your tips for you before his shift over and tonight was no different. On the counter, right next to the register, you found a wad of cash and a sticky note with your name on it.
Unfortunately, you were too focused on counting out the money to notice someone appear in the doorway. That is, until they spoke, “Hey.”
You gasped in surprise, clutching at your chest in a failed attempt to stop your pounding heart, “Fuck! Are you trying to kill me?!”
Carmy smiled down at his feet as he leaned against the kitchen’s door frame. He watched you shove your tips into the pocket of your heavy coat. He nodded towards your hand, and asked, “Rent due?”
You nodded back, “Yeah. Tomorrow morning.”
He hummed quietly, “See a doctor?”
“Yeah,” you replied. “Gave me some stuff to put on it. They said it should be good in a week or two. It wasn’t as bad as I thought it was gonna be.” 
“Right,” he said, twisting the hem of his apron around his hands.
He watched your eyes drift to where his fingers wrapped themselves in the blue fabric. The realization that the two of you were alone, without the stress of your loud coworkers or a line of customers, overwhelmed him.
“You do that a lot, ya know,” you said, gesturing to his hands, “when you’re nervous and stuff.”
He shuffled awkwardly, shook his head, and then shrugged, “Hard not to be. We cool?”
Your eyebrows furrowed. One of Carmy’s hands rose to his lips, allowing him to anxiously bite his nails, while the other disappeared into his pocket. The soft glow coming from the back of the kitchen made him look like an angel.
A tired, fidgety, nervous wreck of an angel.
It was hard for him to breathe when you suddenly moved closer and closer until you stood mere inches away from him. He stared at your hand that untucked itself from your coat pocket. Yet, it wasn’t until you gently wrapped your fingers around his forearm, tugging his hand away from his nail-biting habit, that he knew it was over for him. 
“Carmy?”
Fuck.
“Yeah?”
His mind flashed back to all the times Richie had caught him staring at you and made fun of him for doing so.
And how after Sydney had first met you, she turned to him after you had walked away and quietly asked if you were his girlfriend.
And the way Tina almost beat his ass earlier for shouting at you so viciously after everyone else had left for the night, leaving him to wallow alone in his office.
Or the way he couldn’t stop his eyes from drifting to your lips while your hand gently rubbed his arm, listening closely as you whispered, “We’re cool.” 
“Good,” he muttered.
Your lips parted with a soft, shuddering gasp. Slowly, Carmy had tilted his head and began leaning in. Your grip on him tightened just as his free hand untucked itself from his pocket. His palm slid under your coat and landed on the same hip he had held earlier that day.
His nose brushed against yours. His fingers dug into you, splayed out against your clothed waist. His eyes slowly fell shut as did yours. After that, it didn’t take long before your lips met his.
You could feel the warmth of his cheeks when you placed your palms against them. You pulled him closer until you could wrap your arms around his broad shoulders, intertwining your fingers in his hair.
Carmy’s lips moved against yours tentatively. His other hand slowly slipped beneath your coat to caress your back. He groaned at the feeling of you gently scratching his scalp as your fingers ran through his hair.
Slowly, he pulled away, but only slightly. Your hands dropped to his shoulders and then traveled along his strong arms before finally wrapping around his waist. His apron loosened when you tugged at the strings.
Carmy felt his cheeks warm as he allowed you to remove the blue fabric from his body. He watched it fall to the floor and then made an effort to copy your movements, gently pushing your coat off your shoulders before letting it join his apron.
He sighed softly when you pressed your lips against his in a series of short, gentle kisses, “I’ve—uh—I’ve never…”
He trailed off quietly, feeling slightly embarrassed. Richie had always given him shit for being a virgin. But Carmy had gone through life without friends, let alone girlfriends.
“Carmy?”
His lip quivered when his eyes met yours again. He was surprised to find your gaze void of judgment. Instead, you gave him a small smile and gently pressed your hands into his lower back. He hummed quietly when you repeated his name.
Glancing at his lips, you murmured, “Do you want to?”
Despite the millions of thoughts running through his mind, he was still very clear, albeit quiet, with his answer, “With you? Yeah.”
You nodded silently. One of your hands gently pushed some of his thick, messy hair behind his ear. His eyes fell closed at the feeling.
“Was that your first kiss?”
“You gonna laugh at me if it was?” he asked.
You smiled at the way his cheeks flushed with red, and replied, “‘Course not. It’s like that for lots of people.”
He licked his lips, opening his eyes. His fingertips went deeper into your hips. Fuck, you were being so nice to him.
“It was,” he confessed. “That was my first kiss. I’ve never done any of it. Dates, girlfriends, none of it.”
“Okay,” you said, still allowing your fingers to trace through his hair. “You still want to?”
He paused, eyes exploring your features, “Yeah.”
“We can stop any time you want,” you said. “Don’t be afraid to tell me if you’re uncomfortable.” 
Carmy licked his lips again, hooded eyes drifting to your mouth. Slowly, he nodded and pressed his forehead against yours. His eyes closed and your noses brushed. He could his heart pounding in his chest, briefly wondering if you could as well as he collided his lips with yours once again. 
His fingers delved deeper into your hips. Your hands, meanwhile, tugged at his thick hair, forcing a grunt out of him. He was surprised by how much he liked the feeling. 
Pulling away, though not far enough to avoid the kisses that were now being pressed onto his jaw, Carmy quietly gasped for air, head tilting back as he asked, “Can we go to my office?”
He felt you nod against him in response. He then tugged you along in the direction of his office, biting his lip at the feeling of your mouth on his warm skin. He turned the two of you so that he could see where he was going. Not that doing so was much help since his eyes began fluttering at the feeling of a gentle bite sinking into the flesh of his neck.
One of his hands left your hip momentarily. His palm gripped at one of the metal counters in the kitchen, barely steadying himself. He was nearly tripping over his own feet, distracted by the pleasure you were already sending throughout his body. 
His hand quickly left the countertop. It found a new place on the back of your neck, but only after the two of you finally made it into his office, where he immediately pulled you into another kiss.
Slowly, your hands disappeared from his hair, opting to slip beneath the fabric of his shirt and gently scratch his back instead. You smiled against his lips, nearly breaking the kiss, upon noticing him shiver at the feeling. He practically arched into you, both of his hands moving to your cheeks in order to deepen the kiss.
His white shirt complimented the golden chain around his neck. It was something you had seen him wear plenty of times. And for Carmy, he wasn’t sure if he wanted that to change just yet.
He paused when you began to slide his shirt up, obviously preparing to remove it from his body. He gently wrapped his hands around your forearms to stop you. His lips then moved away from yours. His head ducked as he cleared his throat, avoiding your concerned gaze. 
“I’m sorry,” he muttered, eyes beginning to burn. “I’m—uh—It’s just—I don’t—I don’t think—! Shit, I’m sorry! Sorry! Sorry—!” 
“Hey, hey, hey,” you interrupted, gently wiping away any tears that had started to make an appearance on his cheeks. “It’s okay. You’re okay, Carmy.” 
He sniffled, cheeks warming with embarrassment, upon having felt your hands withdraw from underneath his shirt. His breathing had quickened, along with his heartbeat.
Carmy hid his face against your neck when one of your arms wrapped around him. You softly rubbed the space between his shoulders. Your other hand gently stroked the back of his head, fingers running through his hair once more. Meanwhile, his hands had dropped to your ribs in an effort to steady himself again. 
“We can stop—”
He interrupted you within seconds, shaking his head as he finally met your eyes, “No. I don’t want to. I—uh—I’m just—my childhood wasn’t the best, ya know? Parents were always fightin’ over stupid shit. And sometimes, my dad—well, he—uh—he’d take some of it out on us—”
“Oh, Carmy,” you whispered, leaning your forehead against his.
He continued, caressing your ribs with his thumbs, “He didn’t do it a lot, but, ya know, my back’s kinda, like, got scars and stuff.”
Pulling him closer, you nodded, still allowing him to lead the conversation, “Okay. Okay.” 
“I promise I wanna do this,” he sniffled again before taking a deep sigh, “but I wanna keep my shirt on. For now anyway. For this time.” 
You nodded again, giving him a small smile and lightly tracing the variety of small freckles on his cheeks, “Of course. Anything you want.”
Carmy hesitantly met your eyes. The startling ocean blue sent chills down your spine, especially when he muttered, “God, you’re so fucking sweet.” 
He didn’t give you a chance to reply. Instead, his hands traveled to your back and pushed you against him in a quick, unwavering motion. He groaned at the feeling of your fingertips imprinting themselves into the fabric of his shirt. His lips moved against yours in yet another heated kiss, though this one was much more desperate than the others had been. 
In that moment, as your hands wandered along his clothed back, venturing to the waistband of his pants, Carmy could picture himself falling in love with you.
In the space between your kisses, gasps of air escaped your throat, “Let me make you feel good, Bear.”
Carmy nodded. His lower back gently collided with the edge of his desk. He watched as you slowly undid his pants. He groaned and his cheeks flushed red at the sight of you lowering to your knees. One of his hands shifted to grip his desk while the other raked through his hair.
Before he knew it, his pants were pooling around his ankles and his hard-on was showing prominently through his briefs. His head tilted back and his gaze met the ceiling as your fingers delved into the waistband of the fabric covering his throbbing cock.
“Fucking hell,” he muttered, closing his eyes.
“Carmy?” your quiet voice cut through the tension. “You still okay?”
“I’m fucking perfect,” he whispered. “Please keep going.”
Your amusement was obvious. Carmy hissed when your smiling lips met the flesh of his stomach. He slightly tugged up the hem of his shirt in order to give you more access to his briefs, trying to prepare himself for his first blowjob ever.
The hand that had been in his hair quickly entangled itself in your own. His briefs were slowly being removed with every kiss you gave his skin, your movements trailing lower and lower with every passing second. You stopped at the last possible moment, pulling away and giving a final tug at his briefs.
At last, they fell, finding their place around Carmy’s ankles, alongside his pants. He couldn’t help but watch as his cock sprang free, nearly slapping against his stomach. You eyed it for a moment, licking your lips at the sight of the dark vein on the side and the way it curved slightly to the left. 
Carmy took your pause for negativity. His thumb softly caressed your temple as he murmured, “You alright—? Oh, shit!”
He was suddenly on cloud nine. Fire burned in his chest. Both of his hands moved to tightly grip the back of your neck. One of your hands grasped onto his tense forearm while the other held his cock. Your tongue traced over the vein that you had been admiring. 
His eyes closed and his head tilted back. He could feel you smiling as you pressed a kiss against his cock’s mushroom-shaped head. Your lips trailed along his length until you reached his balls. 
“Fuck!” he groaned, mouth falling open.
The way your tongue lapped at his balls while your hand stroked his swollen length set his stomach on fire. He could feel a layer of sweat beginning to appear on his forehead.
You were a fucking god. And Carmy felt ready to worship you.
Suddenly, you were at the head of his cock again, slowly taking him into your warm mouth. Carmy looked down to watch it happen and nearly came at the sight of you.
Your lips stretched around him. His hands moved to be on either side of your face, gently caressing your temples with the pads of his thumbs. Both of your palms wrapped around his bare thighs.
Carmy hissed at the feeling of his cock disappearing into your mouth as you began bobbing your head along his length. Though when he felt you fondle his balls with a sudden squeeze, he couldn’t stop an abrupt buck of his hips. 
You gagged when the head of his cock hit the back of your throat. He furrowed his eyebrows, concerned, as you pulled away, gasping for air. He wiped away the saliva that had built up at the corners of your lips, “Shit! You okay? I didn’t—I didn’t mean to do that!” 
You sniffed, laughing as you brushed off the small tears that came from your eyes, “Yeah, I’m good.” 
Unsure of what to say, Carmy nodded silently. He continued tracing your temples in an effort to comfort you, trying to ignore his cock, which continued to throb between his legs. Meanwhile, you rubbed at his thighs, still trying to catch your breath. 
“Hey, hey,” he muttered, tilting your head upwards to meet his gaze, “you sure you’re alright?” 
Your eyebrows rose, your fingertips dug into his flesh, and then you smiled, “I’m fine. But Carm?”
“Yeah?”
“You’re fucking huge.” 
And in yet another wave of shyness, Carmy couldn’t stop the blush that appeared on his face. You chuckled, leaning forward to kiss the space above his pelvis, slowly wrapping a hand around his cock once more. Your eyes remained on him as his lips fell open and moans escaped his chest.
“Hey?” you muttered. 
He watched as you leaned against his stomach, resting your chin atop the fabric of his shirt to stare up at him. He shivered at the way your pupils grew. They nearly overtook your irises, leaving only a sliver of their nature shade. 
“Yeah?”
Your teeth dug into your lower lip. Carmy admired the glow that had overwhelmed your skin. He shuddered when your hand tugged particularly hard at his cock.
“Can you fuck my face, Chef?” you whispered. “I want your cock down my throat ‘til I can’t breathe.” 
“Fuck,” he muttered, thumbs softly caressing your cheeks. “You sure? I don’t wanna hurt you.”
“Yeah, I’m sure,” you breathed. “I want you to feel good, Carmy.” 
He hissed at the sudden feeling of your tongue once again tracing over his length. The head of his cock was then repeatedly kissed in a soothing pattern. One of his hands moved to tightly grip the edge of his desk. The other continued smoothing over the skin of your cheek as you took him back into your mouth.
With a hand on his thigh and the other shifting to wrap around his forearm, you slowly dragged his hand to the back of your neck. Carmy panted heavily at the feeling of his hard cock sinking deeper into your throat. He successfully held back his quivering hips, not wanting to accidentally choke you a second time. 
His fingers dug into your skin, his mouth fell open, and heat rose beneath his skin. He looked down to find you with nearly his entire cock in your mouth. The sensation of your tongue swirling around him made him want to cum on the spot. And he nearly did so when your lips finally met the base of his cock. 
Your nose dug into his pelvis. He then felt the mushroom-shaped head of his cock reach the back of your throat, only you didn’t pull away for a fresh burst of air this time. He caressed the back of your neck in an effort to ease the tension. 
Tears welled in the corners of your eyes, soaking your eyelashes. You were doing your best to breathe through your nose. His grip on you tightened when your eyes suddenly looked up at him.
The sight of you staring at him with tear-filled eyes and your lips stretched around his cock made him curse. Both hands quickly returned to your face so he could brush away the glistening tears. After admiring your flushed appearance, he muttered, “You ready?” 
He took the moan you let out around his length as confirmation. The vibrations of it, along with the way your fingers were now tightly grasping at the backs of his thighs in preparation, made him hiss with pleasure. 
He groaned at the wet sounds of your mouth as he began gently thrusting in and out of your throat. He cursed repeatedly, especially when you continued to moan around him. Upon seeing you shut your eyes, however, he patted your cheek to bring your focus back to him.
He smiled down at you when you met his gaze, “Eyes on me, alright? You’re makin’ me feel so—ah!—good right now. Oh, fuck! You’re fucking amazing, ya know that? Oh!” 
Heat was growing in the pit of your stomach when you realized how much pleasure you were giving him. You could feel yourself becoming wetter and wetter by the second. 
You couldn’t help but gag around him when he suddenly gave a rough thrust. You were sure his thighs would have finger-shaped bruises by the end of the night with how strong your grip on him was. 
Carmy’s thrusts were picking up pace. He tossed his head back, eyes shut tight and his mouth agape with silent moans. You wanted him to fuck your face? Then he would do exactly that. 
He repeatedly shoved you down to the base of his cock. With every thrust of his hips, he felt his balls slap against you. The sounds of you practically gasping for air as you choked on his length made him shiver with a blissful expression.
“Fuck!” he groaned. “So fucking good! You’re perfect, ya know?”
His moans continued. The echoes of his cock pumping in and out of your mouth caused warmth to slowly build up within the pit of his stomach. With a few final thrusts, he pressed himself as deep as he could into your throat.
You choked around the sudden release of cum that flooded your mouth. Your eyes squeezed shut as Carmy pressed you further onto his length. Your nose dug into the skin of his pelvis and you were slowly losing the ability to breathe.
Carmy grunted, now gazing down at you with heavily lidded eyes, as his cock released thick, white ropes of his cum. He huffed in an effort to regain his breath. You, however, made that difficult with each and every time you swallowed around him, taking in all of his cum without a second thought. 
His cock was still hard when you finally pulled away. Your tongue ran over the tip while one of your hands moved to stroke his length. Before you could send him tumbling into overstimulation, Carmy tugged you upwards. 
His lips met yours in a searing kiss, barely able to keep hold of you between heavy pants. You could practically feel his confidence finally starting to bloom within him. 
Twirling in order to switch your positions, you tugged him closer, urging him to help you onto his messy desk. He quickly did so after reaching out to shove aside what seemed like a million unorganized papers. They fell to the floor, some even crumpling beneath his shoes as he stepped on them. 
His large, tattooed hands slipped beneath your shirt as he moaned at the feeling of your lips against his neck. He grasped onto the back of your bra and tugged... to no avail. Thankfully, you didn’t seem to notice. 
His face flushed red, especially when your clothed thighs squeezed closer to his hips. His cock began to throb as it met the covered space between your legs, desperate and eager for what was to come. 
Carmy furrowed his eyebrows and tried a second time to unclasp your bra. When it refused to budge, he couldn’t help but curse. And he nearly let out another when your affections came to a pause. 
Your kisses slowed. Pressing one against his ear, you whispered, “You okay?”
“Yeah, yeah,” he replied. 
You tried not to laugh when you felt another tug, “Carm? D’you need help?” 
He cursed a little louder. You bit down on your bottom lip, trying to conceal a grin as you tucked your face into the crevice of his shoulder. When he confirmed your suspicions, you leaned away and did your best to give him a warm, comforting smile. You unhooked your bra and removed it from beneath your shirt with ease, tossing it aside. 
Carmy’s expression shifted into one of frustration, though his eyes shined with a bit of awe, “How the fuck did you do that?” 
Your hands ran over his shoulders as you asked, “Really wanna have that conversation right now?” 
He paused for a moment, seemingly taking some time to think over your words, “Fuck no.” 
You allowed yourself to laugh that time, “Then come here.” 
Carmy found it difficult to breathe when you tugged him closer. The scent of your shampoo fogged his mind as he hid your face against your neck. Your hands guided his, leading them beneath your shirt. He let out a deep sigh when his palms met the warmth of your skin. 
As his hands began tentatively exploring your breasts, he tried to ease his nerves by layering a series of open-mouthed kisses against the column of your throat. Meanwhile, you busied yourself with undoing your pants. 
“You have big hands, Carm,” you muttered, leaning your cheek against his messy head of hair as he indulged him in his affections. 
Big, warm, tattooed hands. His thumbs ran over your nipples occasionally as he gently squeezed you. His fingers dug into the plush of your skin. 
Despite having little room with the way Carmy was leaning against you, you managed to push your pants off your waist, shifting your hips in order to do so. As he continued palming at your breasts, he flushed a deeper shade of red, thankful his face was still hidden from your view. 
“Is that a good thing?” he questioned. “Big hands?” 
He felt you nod in response, “It’s hot.” 
In more ways than one, he believed, due to the heat building up in his stomach. His forehead had developed a thin layer of sweat as well. He followed your lead when you directed his hands to your hips instead. When his fingertips met the hem of your underwear, he inhaled sharply. 
“Think you can get these off without any help?” 
He stopped pressing warm kisses against your neck to meet your gaze. With narrowed eyes, he tilted his head at your teasing tone, licking his lips with an amused grin, “Shut up. What happened to the nice, sweet, good girl from before?” 
Holy shit. 
His comment made you pause. Your semi-arrogant smile fell, becoming one of shyness instead. Carmy’s, on the other hand, brightened. He had somehow managed to turn the tables. Seems like it was your turn to be embarrassed. 
He ran his hands over your thighs, gently pulling you closer. He continued to smile as you avoided his gaze. 
“Hey,” he muttered, placing a hand on your cheek and encouraging your eyes to meet his, “d’you like it when I call you that?” 
His smile was softer now. His body language, however, was giving off a newfound confidence, something you didn’t get to see very often. But with the way he caressed your skin, palms rubbing you soothingly in a steady pattern, you could tell he genuinely wanted to know. 
He furrowed his eyebrows when you offered a mumbled reply, “Hmm?” 
With shivers running along your spine and an affirming nod, you repeated yourself, “I do. Yes.”
“Yes, who?” he asked, cursing himself only seconds later for the question.
You couldn’t stop yourself from taking a deep breath in surprise. Your eyes fell to his lips, thinking about feeling them on yours again. Carmy watched you carefully when they did so. His cock throbbed heavily between his legs as the head gently bumped against your clothed entrance with every move he made. 
You met his eyes again when his fingers delved into the flesh of your thigh. Admiring his blown pupils, you answered, “Yes, Chef.” 
Both of his hands came to your hips. His fingers sunk into the hem of your underwear as he whispered, “Can I?” 
He slowly slid the fabric down your legs when you gave him a whispered confirmation. Wrapping an arm around his shoulders, you pulled him closer. His lips hovered over yours with a groan as your free hand wrapped around his cock.
“Are you sure?” 
Carmy’s eyes, which had been squeezed shut, slowly fluttered open. They flew over your features before he finally nodded, “Yeah.” 
Your lips met his in a soft kiss before your forehead came to rest against his. With your hand gently stroking his length, Carmy couldn’t stop himself from letting out a gasp. He looked down to watch your movements with desperate, hooded eyes. 
You ran the mushroom head through your wet folds. Carmy would’ve been embarrassed by his fascination at the way his cock glistened with your wetness if he wasn’t too busy groaning in pleasure. 
“Gotta go slow, okay? I’ll have to adjust,” you said, and then a quiet laugh filled the air between the two of you. “Like I told you, you’re big.”  
Carmy was sure his skin was cherry red by now, due to a combination of the growing heat in his stomach and your compliments. His mouth fell open and his eyebrows furrowed when your hand eased the head of his cock into your entrance. He couldn’t stop his fingers dug into your skin, creating indents on your thighs. 
Arms encasing your lower back, he pressed himself closer, furthering the reach of his cock. His chest met yours, both of your shirts rubbing against the other. He could both see and feel your hardened nipples through the fabric. 
Your hand that had been guiding him moved upwards, threading through his thick, unruly hair. He didn’t even need to move for you to start letting out a series of gasping moans. The sheer size of him was enough. 
Wrapping your legs around his waist, you nudged him as close as you could. His warmth melted into yours. His skin was aglow with heat, effort, and sweat. His length sinks deeper, stretching you wide and open for him. You hiss at the feeling. 
Oh, yeah. He’s definitely the biggest you’ve ever had. 
You kiss the bridge of his nose as you adjust to his size. Carmy quickly raises his head so his lips can meet yours. It’s a struggle, given how difficult it is for either of you to properly breathe at the moment. 
Carmy’s cheeks are flushed red entirely. He’s burning on the inside with a newfound desperation for you. His cock throbs inside your walls and he feels as though he’s being drowned in your body by the pressure. Meanwhile, you can hardly focus on anything besides the noises he continuously lets out. 
He hisses and groans with every shift, not expecting the feeling to be so tight. You’re dripping with so much arousal that it’s nearly soaking his pelvis and thighs. As his hands traveled under the fabric of your shirt to practically claw at your back, he can’t help but think about how the feeling of you around him is infinitely better than that of his own fist. 
In that moment, Carmy knew you had ruined him for anyone else. He was completely, without any doubt in his mind, yours. And fucking proud of it too. 
“You can move,” you whispered, strengthening your grip around his shoulders and tugging at his hair. 
One of his arms curled further around you. His palm landed between your shoulder blades, slowly gliding over your skin that was hidden beneath your shirt. The other wrapped around your lower back. 
His cheek leaned against yours as he gasped heavily into your ear after the first roll of his hips. Your hand continued to pull at his dark strands of hair, the other tangling itself in his shirt. 
Slowly, he rocked into you, the pace starting off easy and unhurried. Given his size, you could already feel the head of Carmy’s cock gently bumping against your cervix. You gasped heavily with each of his movements. Your body writhed against him. 
“Faster,” you muttered. “Carmy, go faster. Oh, fuck, please.” 
Carmy melted at the way your moans echoed throughout his office. He huffed repeatedly with effort as his thrusts steadily increased. The slapping of skin, along with the slick sounds of your wet entrance, filled the room. Carmy couldn’t help but curse when your teeth suddenly sunk into the crevice of his neck. 
“Shit!” he exclaimed. “Fuck, you feel so fucking good! Could stay inside you forever! Damn it! Wanna stay, wanna stay!”  
Your mind felt empty of anything besides Carmy. His warm breath hitting your skin as he rambled on and on. The way he clawed at you desperately, trying to bring you impossibly closer. How his balls were repeatedly slapping against your dripping arousal. 
“Carmy!” you whined, trying your best to redirect his grip on you, which was rather difficult due to his lightning pace. “Here! Touch me here! Make me cum! Make me let go on your cock! Oh, shit, you’re—ah!” 
You guided his fingers against your clit. Despite his state of pleasured delirium, Carmy seemed to understand what you wanted from him. He massaged the bundle of nerves, sending shockwaves down your spine. 
The tightly wound cord within you finally snaps. You cry out, gripping onto Carmy in order to gain at least some sense of stability. He continues to rut in and out of you like no tomorrow.
The only inclination that he knows you’ve finally cum is the pitchy moan he lets out when your walls constrict his cock with every wave of release. His hand is covered in your cum and he can’t stop himself from pulling his face out of hiding.
With one arm still around you and his hips still slapping loudly, he’s quite the vision when he suddenly brings his fingers to his mouth. It’s then, as he gets a taste of you, that he decides you’re his new favorite meal. In just one night, you’ve made him insatiable.
His hand goes for another round, trying to collect more of your wetness on his fingertips. Meanwhile, you’re beginning to collapse into overstimulation. You take to pressing your forehead against Carmy’s shoulder, panting and huffing as his throbbing length continues to delve deep into your dripping hole. 
Carmy’s trying his best to take in every bit of you that he can, repeatedly collecting your release to press against his tongue as he pounds into you. He rubs at your clit with reckless abandon, craving more of the taste. 
“Please, please,” he begged, distressed at the very idea that you might not cum again. “Wanna keep tasting you! You’re so fucking good!” 
He’s unaware that your moans are no longer coherent. The only thing that continues to tumble from your lips is the sound of your uncontrollable gasps for air and an occasional curse.
Given it was his first time, you hadn’t expected him to have so much stamina. His thrusts seemed impossibly fast, pistoning in and out of you at lightning speed without a second thought. 
Sinking against him, another orgasm washed over you as your mouth fell open in a silent scream. Carmy groaned at the feeling of your walls tightening around his cock, “Fuck, I can’t—! I’m gonna cum! I’m gonna cum, fuck, oh—!” 
His entire lower half rolls into you. He can feel crescents forming in his skin with how deep your nails are digging into him. He thrusts again, once, twice, and then a third time before he’s spilling into you. His cum seeps out around his cock, forming a white ring at the base. 
Despite hardly being able to breathe, he pulls you into a kiss. His lips move against yours in gentle movements. It’s a stark contrast to the way he had been pounding into you only seconds ago. His length is beginning to soften inside you, which you’re slightly grateful for. You weren’t entirely sure you’d make it through another round of that. 
“Are you okay?” he muttered, lips haphazardly meeting yours as his cock leaves you. “Shit, I didn’t mean to cum inside. I’m sorry.” 
You shook your head, “I’m on birth control. And I can get a morning-after pill.” 
He nods in response and then his eyebrows scrunch up. You almost laugh, wanting nothing more than to smooth out the ridges between them. Your hands glide over the fabric of his shirt, tracing over his chest absentmindedly. 
Pressing another kiss against his jaw, you ask him just to make sure, “Are you okay?” 
“Yeah, yeah,” he nodded, hands slipping beneath your shirt in order to rub your back. “It’s just—uh—I don’t know, it’s stupid—”
“I’m sure it’s not,” you interrupted, not wanting him to lose the confidence you had seen in him only minutes prior. “What is it? You can tell me anything.” 
His eyes quickly darted to the side. Although they only did so for a split second, you still noticed. Following the direction of his glance, your gaze lands on your discarded bra.
Carmy lets out a quiet curse as he zips up his pants, realizing that he had been caught. He ignores your smirk while he pulls you off his desk and helps you do the same. Even though helping you put your clothes back on is something no one else had ever done for you after sex before, you knew it was at least partially meant to distract you from your new revelation.
You quickly decide, however, that you can’t help yourself. With a smile, you quietly say his name in an effort to bring his attention back to you. 
“Hmm?” he muttered, trying to ignore the way your hands trace gently over his shoulders while he rebuttons your pants. 
You slowly tilt his head, leaving him with no choice but to meet your eyes. You repeat his name in a sing-song voice, “Carmy!” 
He grasped your hands in his and pulled them away from his face. He quickly distracts himself by playing with your fingers. After a moment, he sighed before looking at you with softened eyes. 
“Can you teach me the bra thing now?” 
Your face brightens with an amused laugh. Carmy instantly groans in embarrassment, throwing his head back and swatting gently at your backside with a muttered, “Stop that! I told you it was fucking dumb!” 
“No, no,” you shook your head, still chuckling as he rolled his eyes. “Pass it here, Berzatto. Then you can keep it as a homework assignment.” 
He muttered a curse under his breath, which only made you fall into another fit of laughter. He then picked your bra up from the floor and handed it over. With an arm on either side of your hips, he rests his palms on his desk that sat behind you. All his weight leans onto them and you can’t help but smile at how close he is while he stares intently at your hands, waiting for you to begin your lesson.
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midnight-rain-fics · 1 year
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Bad kind of butterflies
{Fandom: Grishaverse}
{Pairing: Kaz Brekker x fem! reader}
Summary: Y/N and Kaz get tangled in a web of unspoken truths and it falls upon them to tangle themselves before they fall and stumble.
A/N: I have nothing to say for myself. I wrote this whole fic just because of this freaking gif. This is purely self indulgent but enjoy I guess.
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“I got bad, bad kind of butterflies in my chest
There's something I gotta confess
Yes, somebody's stuck in my head”
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Y/N had been a new but welcome addition to the crows, or so Kaz had believed until she had unknowingly become a thorn in his side. His chest constricted every time he saw her, and it became difficult to breathe whenever she was around.
She was oblivious to the fact, of course. The only one who had any idea of these stirrings of his was Nina, who always side eyed him whenever Y/N entered any room he was in.
Despite his best efforts, his eyes always seemed to seek out hers and his heart jolted whenever he looked at her wide eyes.
He truly could not stop his eyes from travelling to that plush bottom lip that was more often than not trapped between pearly white teeth. Just like it was now.
Kaz pushed the thought, along with several others just like it, into that dark corner of his mind and barred the gate. He needed to focus.
"Kaz?" Y/N questioned, looking at him nervously, her wrists clutching each other behind her back, twisting together.
How had she pulled him so deep in? Even after being in Barrel for months now, she had no jagged edges. She was supposed to be everything he hated. Soft, fragile, vulnerable.
And oh so, beautiful.
Damnit.
Kaz looked up from the paperwork he was supposedly working on and looked up to meet her gaze, "Yes, what can I do for you?"
"The others wanted to know if you would be joining us for drinks"
"And you volunteered to come get me, Y/N?"
"Didn't really have a choice" Y/N mumbled, without looking at him.
"Oh, so you don't want me to join you?" Kaz raised an eyebrow, watching in silent amusement as she shuffled her feet, mouth already opening in protest. He nodded, "Duly noted."
"That's not what I meant!" Y/N protested, her eyes widening a little at her own volume. She cleared her throat, her voice soft as she looked down at her feet, "You know that's not what I mean"
"Do I?"
Y/N sighed, not meeting his eyes. Irritation pricked at her like it always did when Kaz tormented her. She was sure he got some amusement by testing her resolve.
She would never admit how much she liked it.
Kaz stood up, closing the distance between them until he stood in front of her, hands clutching his crow-headed cane.
He leaned down his head, causing Y/N's eyes to meet his, "Use your words, little bird"
"I-" Y/N opened her mouth and closed it again. She closed her eyes and took another deep breath before meeting Kaz’s eyes, "Are you coming, then?"
"Do you want me to?"
"Yes"
Kaz took a step back and gave her a long look, and Y/N’s skin thrummed with the feeling of being the centre of his attention. Unaware of her thoughts, Kaz nodded, "I'll get my coat then"
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"What happened?" Kaz walked into the living room of the Slat, his eyes landing on Jesper who was supporting an exhausted Wylan. It wa supposed to be a simple job and yet somehow, something had gone wrong.
His eyes searched for Y/N but she was nowhere to be seen.
"Y/N got hurt,” Those three words were enough to make Kaz’s heart collapse in on itself. Jesper continued, not noticing Kaz’s dilemma, “Nina is tending to her"
Kaz nodded and with his heart pounding in his ears, made his way towards Y/N's room. He stood in the doorway, watching Nina heal Y/N.
Nina cast him a meaningful glance, that he promptly ignored, and continued tending to Y/N’s shoulder which had the faint markings of a stab wound.
Breath seemed to return to Kaz’s lungs as Nina finished healing the wound, the skin knitted together as if there had never been a wound there. Y/N had her lips pressed together, unshed tears lining her long lashes.
Nina pressed a kiss to Y/N’s temple and bid them farewell, but not before she wiggled her eyebrows suggestively at Kaz, nodding in Y/N’s direction.
With the patience that came with dealing with Jesper and Nina’s antics for far too long, Kaz ignored her as she left and looked towards Y/N who had finally let her tears fall.
"Does it still hurt?"
"No" Y/N mumbled, wiping at her cheeks with the back of her hand even as a new wave of tears streamed down her cheeks.
Kaz took a few steps forward and sat down at the side of her bed. His cane was firmly clutched in his left hand as he took out a handkerchief from his coat and handed it out to Y/N.
Y/N sniffled, wiping away the remaining tears, and then proceeding to hide her face with the handkerchief, "this is embarrassing"
"No need to worry, little bird, you embarrass yourself on the daily. I am used to it" Kaz's lips tugged into a faint smirk when Y/N whined in embarrassment.
"That's even worse"
Kaz stood up, and nudged Y/N's thigh with his cane, catching her eyes, "Get some rest"
Y/N nodded and watched him leave with a heavy heart. It was always so confusing, this game of tug of war between them. Y/N was afraid to tug too hard while Kaz kept tugging her close, making her lose her footing.
He knew she was bound to fall. She didn't dare to hope he would catch her.
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"What the fuck was that?"
Y/N closed her eyes and breathed deeply. The sound of Kaz's harsh voice grated in her ears, making her heart pound in anxiety. Her instincts screamed at her to leave his office.
The heist had gone wrong. So very wrong. And Y/N had nearly gotten herself shot. Once the adrenaline had worn off, Y/N had grown numb with the realization of what had almost happened.
"I-" Y/N started, choking down her nerves, hands fiddling with the rings on her finger as she looked up at him.
Kaz's eyes blazed with hot fury as he took a step towards her, caging her between himself and his desk, "Do you have no regard for your own safety?"
"I am fine, Kaz"
"You could have died" Kaz gritted out, his grip near painful on his cane. He could have lost her. If he had been a moment too late, she would be gone.
The waters rose and Kaz gripped the beak of the crow-headed cane to ground himself. She was here. Y/N was here. And she was alive.
Never again would he let her put herself in danger.
"But I didn't! And I knew what I was doing" Y/N's excuses fell on deaf ears. Kaz clenched his jaw in anger and took another step forward.
"Did you? Or are you so self-absorbed that you think you know best? Do you even care what would have happened to the rest of the crows if you didn't make it?" Each word that left Kaz’s lips was dipped in poison, seeping into her skin with deadly accuracy.
"You're being cruel, Kaz" Y/N whispered, bottom lip caught in between her teeth as she bit into it. It was a bad habit. But the pain have her something to focus on. Something other than the intensity of Kaz’s furious gaze.
"And you're being a brat, Y/N" Kaz whispered, head tilting down to stare into her eyes. For once, he didn’t break eye contact. He couldn’t, not when the fear of losing her was so fresh in his mind.
Y/N looked down, Kaz’s disappointment weighing down on her. It made her nauseous, “I am sorry"
"No, I don't think you are" Kaz whispered, his voice cold and cutting as he rested tapped the side of her calf with his cane, his restraint slowly slipping, "I think you're just a brat who needs to be taught a lesson”
"Kaz" Y/N inhaled sharply, her heart beating so loudly that she wouldn’t be surprised if Kaz heard it.
"You should leave, Y/N" Kaz said, closing his eyes and taking a deep breath. He gathered the last fraying threads of his self-restraint. It was up to her now. She could leave and they could go back to the line they hadn’t crossed yet.
Kaz knew greed. He knew it as he gazed at Y/N, so intensely, as if he might steal the very image of her beauty if he tried hard enough.
But Desire was a different game. Kaz toed the line of desire with Y/N on the daily, only in the confines of his own mind. But he never dared to cross it. He never dared to let that dream of desire fester into reality. Until now.
Y/N nodded but she made no move to leave, eyes roaming Kaz's face. She was committing him to her memory, all the sharp edges of his face and the soft cushions of his lips.
Though she might never get to touch this jagged edged masterpiece, at this moment it was hers to admire. For this moment, he was hers.
Kaz reached behind her and Y/N held her breath as he untied the white ribbon holding her hair together. Y/N watched in fascination as Kaz wrapped the ribbon around his two fingers, the white silk of her ribbon was a stark contrast against the black leather of his gloves.
With the thick ribbon wrapped around his pointer and middle finger, Kaz tapped Y/N’s bottom lip, making her gasp and stop her abuse on her lip and release it from between her teeth.
The touch was gone as soon as it came and all Y/N could do was stare at him, wide-eyed. Kaz made no move to step away, "You are not going to make reckless decisions again, understand?"
“Yes,” Y/N nodded dumbly, feeling a blush creep up her cheeks. She felt lightheaded and delusional. She reached back and placed a hand on Kaz’s desk so as to not stumble and fall into him.
That would be very, very bad. And it would break whatever fragile thing had blossomed between them. Though this time, she had a feeling he might just catch her, if only with his cane and silk ribbons on his fingers.
"You are not allowed to leave me, little bird" Kaz stroked the ends of her unbound hair that had fallen around her shoulders. His rough voice sent a shiver down her spine.
"I won't" Y/N mumbled, eyes shining bright with words she couldn’t say yet, "Promise"
Kaz’s lips turned up into a faint outline of a smirk, “Good girl”
821 notes · View notes
ruiniel · 2 months
Text
What You Choose
Fandom: Demon Slayer: Kimetsu no Yaiba
Pairing: Rengoku Kyojuro x f!reader
Count: 2K
Rating: T (M later)
On AO3
Summary: I recently watched/read KNY and have emotions. Likely done before, but wanted to get this out of my system so wrote it down. Rengoku survives the fight with Akaza, but some battles are not so straightforward.
Tags & Warnings: Rengoku lives AU, multichapter, blood, injury, pining, angst, second person POV, demon slayer!reader, tsuguko!reader, alternating POV, Oblivious Rengoku Kyojuro, for a while at least, Death, Mild Gore, Mild Hurt/Comfort, Eventual Smut
All characters depicted are 18+
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I.
Everything fades. His body is going numb, his vision blurs as he stares down at his reflection in the dark pool of his own blood, unable to lift his head. The cries of grief surrounding him become dim and scatter like dying leaves from his consciousness.  
I've done my duty, I've given my all.
The last he remembers is a small, clawed hand and a sudden, blooming flame bursting through his shattered torso, scalding him from within in ways his own fire never could. 
I see... So this is what it feels like… to burn. 
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The balmy weather outside has no effect on you, seated at the side of the infirmary bed, your head in your hands. 
“Perhaps you should go and rest. There’s been no change, and we’ll be sure to inform you of any developments.” 
Aoi’s words are void of their usual sternness. You’ve heard them before, and yet—
“I’m fine, I really am.” You gaze back at the prone figure lying motionless beneath crisp white sheets. His gold and crimson hair is messy, and you’ve never seen him so pale, his features so sunken. The bandage covering his left eye is stained red in places, the usually smiling lips dry and bloodless.
Aoi sighs but says nothing else, and soon her departing steps echo against the walls.
I can’t. I can’t leave his side. You wish your thought could reach him, down to whatever place he’s struggling in now. You ball your hands into fists over your knees, a poor attempt at holding your composure. Please, come back. Please.
Weeks have passed since the mission on the train, since your group has returned with wounded bodies and spirits, though none in such a critical state as your mentor. Rengoku Kyojuro has not awakened since, and in contrast, since the nightmares the demon has placed upon you in that baleful encounter, you’ve not been able to sleep more than two to three hours every night. Every time, waking up in a sweat, the memory of what happened always the last image you remember. 
“How is he today?”
You’re drawn from your thought by the gentle voice of the person you feel like you owe a life of debt to, and turn to gaze into the tired, worried eyes of Tanjiro Kamado. He stands by the bed now, glancing down at the Hashira. The slow rise and fall of his chest is the only sign that he is still alive. 
You shake your head as Tanjiro takes a seat. “How is rehabilitation training going?” 
Tanjiro smiles, still staring at the bed and its unresponsive occupant. “Almost done, I feel my strength returning to what it used to be and more. I admire how well you’ve upheld yourself, though,” he murmurs. 
It’s true, for some reason, you’ve been the least scathed of them all, needing much less medical care than the rest. No, you know the reason why. “It’s because of him,” your words escape you. “If… if he hadn’t trained me as he did, if he hadn’t driven me so far beyond my limits, I don’t know if I would have survived for as long as I have in my role.”
“Oh, yes, I’ve heard. They say Lord Rengoku’s methods are… harsh to say the least.”
A smile tugs at your lips as a known pain pricks your heart. “But… but I’ve been remiss in thanking you, young Kamado—or rather, your sister. If she hadn’t…”  Your throat tightens; you don’t want to break down, not here, not before Tanjiro and not before him, no matter he can’t hear it. 
“Please, please don’t worry, it was a stroke of luck and quick thinking on her part, I only brought the box closer—”
“... she healed him! I saw the flames engulfing him, I saw the wound close. I don’t know how she did it but… Nezuko is someone... very special.”
Tanjiro lowers his head in humble acknowledgement. “I will tell her.” Then, as though remembering something, he reaches into his pocket and hands you a small bag. “Here, I’ve not seen you join meals very often and… well, please take them.”
You don’t have the strength to refuse, and take the bag from his hand, meeting his kind smile. “Candies…”  You thank him before placing them on the bedstand, and after a few more moments of sitting in comfortable silence, Tanjiro takes his leave. You watch him depart, endeared by his manner and honesty. He has a good soul, a strong will—perhaps the strongest you’ve known, apart from…
You stare back at your mentor, memories of the past flooding behind your eyes.
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Five months prior
“Good! Again!”
You’re panting, your total concentration breathing nearly failing as you evade another deadly arc of the Third Form: Blazing Universe. 
The sun has westered and a bluish twilight sets over the lands, but your mentor still has you parrying his unwavering techniques, before making you attack using combinations of them in turn. 
“Lord—lord Rengoku—”
His blazing speed cuts your words short as your blades clash, and you stare into bright, golden-rimmed irises. He’s smiling, as usual, with a devilish spark in his eyes. There is a sudden flutter in your stomach, overriding the fatigue in your burning muscles. “Come now, don’t tell me you’re beat! You’ve come so far after only three years!” he says as you fall back, lunging for another attack the following second.
The sudden weakness you feel when you’re close to him has you confused, because it was not there before. It all began in the past year: whenever he stares at you in a certain way, whenever he touches you during training or meets your eyes, something gnaws achingly at your chest. It’s as though you need something from him, but have no idea what it is. 
“I knew it from the moment I took you on as a successor,” he says, merciless in his offensive. “If you—” Parry. Lunge. “—carry on like this—” Attack. Jump. “—you’ll reach a Hashira level of skill in no time at all!” 
You don’t have the chance to reply, though his words feel like honey coating your senses. At first, he’d been sparse and strict, keeping to instructions and nothing else. But you struggled, worked harder than you had for anything in all your life, and it seems he acknowledges this fully now. 
“Now—Ninth Form: Rengoku!” 
That means you must attack, and he must deflect. But—Ninth Form?! “I—I can’t, I’m… I’m too exhausted for the Ninth!”
He bursts forward with Unknowing Fire, forcing you to duck and curl your body, rolling away into the dust, rising on one knee. 
The Flame Hashira turns, pointing his weapon at you. “Is that what you plan on telling the demons?”
“Well, no, but—”
“At no point during a battle will you have the luxury of biding your time. If this were an actual encounter, you’d be dead.” He no longer smiles, his face turned cold, eyes glinting like molten steel.
You feel the rush of shame like fangs biting into you, fueling a horrible need to prove him wrong, to rise up to the challenge in his voice. With a hiss and a groan you grip the handle of your katana tightly, breathing and striving to light that spark in your heart. 
With a cry you speed forward, clashing with him in a desperate lunge. 
“Ha!” The smile returns as you grit your teeth. “Better!”
His face is so close to yours again, so close you feel the rush of his breath on your cheek. 
Your knees feel weak again, and you close your eyes, pushing forward in an attempt to skew his balance. 
What the hell is happening to you? 
“Faster, the fire is still weak! It must rage!” the Hashira says, grinning like a madman now, and where once you enjoyed the path of learning and reaching your full potential, now his attitude brings forth an ache that confuses you and leaves you anxious.
Even so. Your blades sing against each other as you lunge back in a high jump, landing in a lowered stance with one palm braced against the earth. Your uniform is wet on your back, and you’re closer to your breaking point than you've ever been.
But the thought of disappointing him, now that feels unbearable. So you do what you always do: you push yourself more, more, harnessing all your strength into one melting core, bathing your heart in it and firing up your veins. 
You attack.
He laughs outright. “Not bad, but—” Your swords clash, fiercer than before. “I know you can do better, and you can be faster.”
“I’m doing all I can!” you yell, at the end of your tether now. It’s not the first time, nor will it be the last. But he takes no offense, he never does, and that's one of the things you appreciate about him. “But you—you make it impossible! You always want more, even if you know I’m not ready for it!”
It must be the fire rushing through you that has you speaking this way, daring to say such words despite knowing full well what you were in for, when you accepted to become his successor. 
“Wait until you’re ready, and you will never improve!” the Flame Hashira throws back.
A growl leaves your throat as you fall back then speed towards him again, trying the Second then the Third form in succession sloppily but you’re past caring. 
Your arms feel as though they will tear and your bones might splinter as you crash against his unwavering stance, and you meet his scarlet-gold gaze as he speaks softly, his voice imbued with warmth: “You can surpass the impossible. I believe in you.” 
Your eyes widen, that damned ache ringing through your body like a weakening poison and—
For one split second, your stance weakens, and you’re thrown back, losing your balance and falling heavily onto the ground. 
Rengoku stares down at you, tilting his head to the side with a strange look on his face as he sheathes his katana. 
Your vision sways, your lungs might burst. You barely clutch at the helping hand extended to you, aiding you to your feet. He grasps your shoulders. “What happened there just now? Your focus melted like wax.”
“I…” You can’t look him in the eye. His hands on you diffuse heat, permeating through your clothing. It feels good. It scares you. “I don’t… know.”
“Tomorrow, again,” he says, releasing you. “Please do better. Remember we’re doing this for you, but foremost for the people.”
“Understood,” you murmur, biting back tears as you watch him walk away.
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Midnight has arrived when you end your reverie, thinking about that emotion that took root in your body and spirit, growing stronger as time passed. And you never dared tell him, never dared facing it nor can you explain why. You take a deep breath, leaned with your arms folded on the edge of the bed, your forehead resting on them. You never told him, and now… 
And now with each day I’m losing hope.
Your shoulders are shaking, and your eyes sting. There is no one else here but you and him, the long chamber of empty beds the only witness to your breakdown. 
You’re so absorbed by despair, you don’t perceive the faint movement, or the hand gently placed on your head.
“... Why are you crying?”
You choke on a silent sob, blinking in shock at the low, throaty voice, broken with disuse. Slowly, you raise your head.
He's staring at you, a bleak smile on his lips, and you're utterly, incomprehensibly frozen.
“You… you’re awake?” It feels like the dumbest of questions: your body knows the truth before your mind catches up. 
“That… depends. Are you really here?” he asks in turn. 
You nod, biting on your lower lip and wiping your eyes with your sleeve. “Yes, yes I am.”
The smile wavers for a moment as he grimaces in pain. “Oh, I see. Then… it seems… you’re not rid of me yet.”
All the gods in all the world couldn’t keep the emotions flooding you at bay, and you shake your head as warm tears flow down your face. 
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PART II
160 notes · View notes
clairdelunelove · 3 months
Text
next to you
itadori yuuji x reader
genre: fluff! (classmate!yuuji & transferstudent!reader)
warnings: none
synopsis: the thought of moving schools was disheartening. memorizing a different schedule, acquainting yourself with new people, and leaving your friends behind were factors that you did not look forward to. yet, when you're seated next to a blushy haired male with a sweet smile– you decide that you could get used to it.
a.n. I recently went to an anime convention and got a pic with the cutest itadori cosplayer ever! and unknowingly, upon checking my phone at home, saw that they gave me bunny ears in the pic! so hi jjk fandom! pls take care of me! (∩˃o˂∩)♡
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head very full at the thought of itadori yuuji showing you around campus and can't help but have his interest pique at your arrival.
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moving schools in the middle of the semester was a relatively difficult obstacle to overcome. it was unfortunate. the loss of packing up the life that you had grown into. you missed your old friendships– the ones that had you beaming when you caught a glimpse of your best friend waiting at the school gates or stifling a laugh from their silly jokes during class. initiating conversation was never your strong suit, either. words felt sticky on your lips and you instinctively shut down after the usual pleasantries were said. you felt awkward; and the sentiment radiated off of you in waves which, coincidentally, turned people away. so to say that you weren’t necessarily excited to be acquainted with your professors and classmates was an understatement. you had a new campus to explore, aloof introductions to give, and schedules to memorize. with each passing second your enthusiasm wavered. a frown tugs at your lips as you take a seat at your desk. but when you get a glimpse of golden skin, a beaming smile, and pretty brown eyes— you have a sneaking suspicion that moving wasn’t too terrible. 
classmate!yuuji that puts in the effort to introduce himself to you right when you walk in. he’s extremely polite; a trait that you gather from how he leans over to bow his head to you. almost knocks over his desk from how quick his movements are. light brown eyes flickering to you, his curiosity gets the best of him once the spot next to him is occupied. “looks like my desk partner is here!” he hums while swinging his long legs in your direction so he can directly address you. “itadori yuuji,” he clarifies with a friendly smile, “pleasure to meet you!” and immediately you can tell that he’s charming in the way that has you warming under his vigilant gaze. soft eyes and tender intentions. you straighten in your seat to appear more inviting. hoping to garner a good first impression. anything to catch the interest of your new classmate. and when you introduce yourself through flustered stutters and pauses, he doesn’t seem to mind. no, yuuji just reaches over, slender fingers pointing at the strap of your backpack, and mentions, “cool keychain, by the way.” it’s a clay figure you molded for yourself as a tribute to your favorite- yet totally obscure- movie so the compliment causes your heart to flip at the acknowledgement. can already tell that he’ll be the highlight of your day. and when yuuji hears your sheepish yet overjoyed, “thanks. can't believe you know where it's from,” a beguiling grin curls upon his lips. 
classmate!yuuji that takes the time to show you around the campus even if he’s late to club tryouts. despite his incredible athleticism, he’s not interested in joining any of the school’s clubs but the tryouts were fun. just a small event that brought the school together while crowds of upperclassmen coerced others to become involved. yuuji recalled agreeing to coming out to the track club’s tryouts; probably using his record speed as a persuasion tactic and he didn’t want to go back on his word. yet, he had a small task to take care of first. “and this is where your last class is,” he gestures with a broad smile. he’s currently walking backwards with his hands stuffed in his pockets while you trailed beside him. a couple students actively greeted him and he returned the sentiment with a nonchalant wave or quick fist-bump. the epitome of cool that you could only dream of. fortunately, you both shared a majority of classes together so he’d be there if you ever needed anything. he watches you jot down a careful note on the back of your binder to indicate the location before quickly expressing your gratitude, “thanks so much. really, you’ve helped me so many times today.” it’s true, he’d walked you across the whole campus and pointed out any rooms you may need in the future. his shoulders lift in a shrug, though, like it’s merely common courtesy, “'ts no problem.” his kindness causes a smile to curl upon your lips as you suggest, “is there anything I can do to pay you back? maybe buy you lunch sometime?” it’s a little forward, for your standards, but you can’t help but feel indebted to him. he took your nervousness and transformed it into comfort. unbeknownst to you, yuuji’s battling his own predicament because the light filtering through the window causes you to illuminate. a glowing halo surrounding you. you’re so angelic– long lashes fluttering when you tilt your head up at him. he gulps and clears his throat, “sorry, what was that?” his voice is sheepish and the tone is a little odd coming from someone so assured like he is. can sense the tips of his ears burning at the realization that the transfer student is unfairly pretty. so he shifts his feet while naively confessing, “it’s a little hard to think when you look at me like that.” 
classmate!yuuji that thinks you’re the smartest person he’s ever known. you could be instructing him on how to solve a problem incorrectly but he’d always take your word that you’re right. will gasp and murmur, “oh, I gotta do it like that? got it.” and scribbles down the rest of his answers like how you showed him. gets defensive if someone else rudely tells you that you’re wrong for following a different format. his brows would furrow, bewildered when the blame is automatically placed on you since you were the transfer student. “(y/n) taught me this way and I got it right,” he’d mention while pressing his lips together, “so both ways work. nothin’ wrong with that.” the finality of his words usually do the trick to shut down any arguments. you even end up spending more time with yuuji outside of class. he’ll find you in some desolate corner of the library, buried in a textbook, and ends up canceling his plans so he can study with you. strolls in with a beaming smile and a quick wave of his hand. lightly chuckles when he recognizes how you hastily tidy your miscellaneous papers and pens. however, your studying sessions become a bit more talkative whenever he drops in. eagerly chatting about the latest tv shows that he’s been watching. “I like that one a lot too,” a smile graces your face as you clasp your hands together, “can’t wait for the new season to come out. I think it’s coming out in a couple months. april, maybe?” “yeah, april!” yuuji repeats and presses the tip of his pen to his lips while pondering, “wonder if the villain will come back during that time.” it’s irrational but seemingly minor moments like these were significant to you. and a pleased warmth spread within you at the fact that you shared some hobbies with your blushy haired classmate. if exams rolled around, though, the two of you put immense effort into studying. with yuuji dutifully reading his textbook next to you, you’re about to commit to your own studying when he lets out a sudden exhale, “this is so boring! I can’t do this.” he shifts in his seat, trying to get more comfortable, but unknowingly knocks his knee against yours. you’re giggling at his dilemma, however. “maybe you need a break or I could try helping. is it science?” it’s phrased like a question because you’re uncertain of how much help you’d be. yet, he defeatedly slouches in his seat and huffs, “help, please. you’re the smartest person I know.” and when you turn to him, you’re greeted by his wide, puppy-dog eyes for good measure. “woah,” you grin while gently pushing at his face, “don’t need to pull that move on me, mister.” yuuji yelps, reaching up to enclose his hand over yours before gleefully laughing, “it’s my secret weapon though!” and the rest of the session is filled with teasing smiles, soft nudges, and knowing hushes. 
classmate!yuuji that greets you, without fail, every morning. he could be slouched over, scrolling through his phone, or idly chatting with friends– just occupied in his own circle of friends. it only took you a week to recognize that your blushy haired classmate was quite popular amongst your colleagues. well, he’s not necessarily labeled as ‘popular,’ but rather favored and admired. yuuji’s known to step in and dissolve petty arguments between other students or help a teacher without squabbling. carrying and passing out heavy textbooks to different classes with a polite smile. it was difficult to find someone that outwardly disliked him. no one had a reason to. students, upperclassmen and underclassmen alike, flocked to him whenever there were openings in school clubs. but he always gently declines with a dismissive wave of his hand before returning to flip through his comic book. yet, when you come scampering in the class, he visibly perks up. and as embarrassing as it is, your classmates know that whatever they utter to yuuji will just go over his head when you walk in. his bright eyes land on you as you settle in the seat next to him. “hey!” he greets with a tilt of his head, “g’morning!” right when you turn to him, he slides the book closed and rests his chin on his hand. gives you his undivided attention. the movement causes your eyes to catch that the sleeves of his dark sweatshirt are tugged upward and you knowingly shake your head. “don’t tell me you helped rearrange the desks before class again,” you teasingly chastised with an intentional glance to his calloused hands, “but good morning, yuu.” already your closest friend, the nickname for him was only natural. and yuuji never deterred you from using it– if anything, he was fond of it. causes a smile to break upon his face. it seemed like you caught him because he abruptly pulled away to scratch at the back of his neck, “hm, I had to.” then, he scoots closer to you before explaining with a playful grin, “besides, sensei let me keep the spot next to you because of it.” and as you desperately attempt to fight off the heat that floods your face, yuuji just shoots you another sweet smile. 
175 notes · View notes
miguelswifey04 · 9 months
Note
hi darling could u do a miguel x chubby reader one? i love that theres that headcanon that he likes bigger girls coz it feels like there isnt a space for that in most fandoms and self-insert fics thank you so so much xxxx
YEAH OF COURSE!! THAT IS TRUE :p
🌱🌱🌱🌱🌱🌱🌱🌱🌱🌱🌱🌱🌱🌱🌱🌱
miguel was never one to care much about looks but when it came to you—god he could never get enough of you. he loved the way your plush thighs felt against his big calloused hands as he kneaded the fat of your thighs gently, maybe even nibbling on them if you were comfortable with it. he praised you and would always say you were more perfect than aphrodite, herself.
he would casually call you his aphrodite—you were beautiful to him, and to everyone else. he saw your curves as works of art, deserving of admiration and love. every time he laid eyes on them, his heart swelled with adoration and desire. he left a trail of kisses along your neck, collarbone, and down to the gentle arcs of your breasts, where his lips worshiped their fullness. he delighted in the way your skin tingled beneath his touch, the way you responded to his adoring kisses and caresses.
with gentle hands, miguel explored the softness of the your body, tracing the curves and edges that defined your unique beauty. his movements were filled with reverence and tenderness as he peppered their skin with kisses, leaving a trail of adoration in his wake.
“you are exquisite, mi amor," miguel murmured against your warm skin, his voice husky with desire. "your curves drive me wild, each one a testament to your sensuality and beauty." his lips pressed against the softness of your stomach, raining kisses upon it, as he whispered sweet words of appreciation.
his hands roamed your body, caressing your curves with a touch that whispered adoration. he kissed your full, plush lips with a fervor that spoke of his desire to worship every part of you. "you are perfect just as you are," he assured them, his voice filled with conviction. "your body holds a beauty that deserves to be celebrated and cherished."
as the passion ignited, miguel continued to lavish attention upon the your beauty full figure, his touch becoming more fervent and hungry. with every caress, every heated gaze, he conveyed his love and attraction. he explored your body with gentle reverence, ensuring that every inch of you felt desired and adored.
he knew that your curves were a source of empowerment and sensuality something everyone should embrace.
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billskeis · 4 months
Note
im begging make more fluffs anout tom like jealous and sum or idk PLSSSS
ᡣ𐭩 tom is jelly and silly
laughs and cheers filled the room as the five of you attempted to complete the challenges of the game show. partnered with bill, you were tasked to do silly little activities such as cup pong (with water ahem) or darts.
yours and bill’s chemistry were insane!
although not officially apart of the band, you were known to be a close friend of theirs from their childhood. you met the four of them while they were still known as devilish and have been with them ever since.
it never came to mind that you wanted to date any of the members, especially tom.
oh how he was always constantly flirting with you behind closed doors, that being the both of you knew how paparazzi is and how crazy their female fanbase was. it was just too risky to do anything.
not only that but, you just didn’t really like him like that, or you believed so.
you and bill cheered as you successfully completed the task once again, on a winning streak against tom, gustav and georg. gustav and georg moped and whined claiming that the two of you ‘cheated the system,’ but tom was standing there, farther away from the two of them crossing his arms and staring at you.
bill pulled you into a hug which you excitingly reciprocated the embrace, jumping around in joy at how the two of you were just that good during the game show. you got along with bill so well, he was so sweet and pure.
“okay, and now a question for you bill,” the interviewer flipped the postcards to reveal the next question. tokio hotel was scheduled for a talkshow the day after to which you, obviously attended. however not in the interview, you were on the sidelines near the back of the stage, where people still had the ability to see you.
full attention is on the interviewer and bill while the rest of the room remains quiet, “i’m sure we’ve all seen the gameshow yesterday where it featured one of your close friends, y/n, is there something going on between you two? i mean—you seemed awfully close!”
it’s true, ever since that night the media couldn’t get enough of it, it begun trending the night of and the internet is going crazy about it. you begun to get tons of hate, but a good portion of the fandom supported it even though it wasn’t true. it humoured the two of you as you made jokes but really thinking nothing of it. you were friends is all.
everybody giggled and bill just smiled brightly, bringing the mic to his mouth, “nono, nothing’s going on me and—” “yeah actually it’s nothing so can we move on?” the mic was stolen in the middle of bill talking by no other than tom. he started intently at the interviewer to hopefully transition to the next new question wishing to divert to any other topic than this.
whispers filled the room, what was this outburst about? you had so many questions in mind you had nowhere to begin with.
the interview ended and bill was able to ease up the tension and awkwardness that had risen after tom’s intervene. he however had absolutely nothing to say and as soon as everybody said their goodbyes he left the stage without saying anything.
running, you skip towards tom who beelined for the washroom, grabbing his arm, “tom?”
he turned, looking angry almost, but his expression softened upon seeing you. thank god it was you and nobody else or he would’ve lost his shit.
“oh, hey, sorry you had to see that.” he rubbed the back of his neck with his arm, staring off into the distance, you moved your arm that was once on his shoulder to his hand, he intertwines his fingers with yours and swings your arm around playfully.
“is something wrong? you know you didn’t have to do that i don’t care what people say about me—” “but i do! okay?? i do, and it’s pissing me off that the rumours are..” he quiets down, looking at the floor.
you lean down to level your head with his gaze, what’s wrong with him why won’t he finish his sentence? “the rumours are what tom?” “about you and bill!” your eyes widen, this could mean one of so many things and you didn’t know what.
he now grabs your opposite hand and holds both of them, he straightens up his body to be fully directed towards you, looking at you with expectation and need. “i like you, y/n, and seeing you and bill that night drove me NUTS!! this is not how i wanted to confess..”
he holds his breath and waits for your reaction, your mouth was agape, body frozen. THE tom kaulitz likes you!?
“why?” you ask, “why do you like me?” “i-i don’t know! i just do, it feels right, y’know?” he brings one of your hands to his chest to feel his heartbeat. and man, when i tell you the pace it was going was FAST oh it was fast.
you feel your face heat up a bit, this whole confessions thing was new to you and tom was your first. all you could do was smile at him.
“so?” he asks, “so?” you repeat after him, “can we go out?” “like the five of us?” “oh my god y/n no just the two of us please i never get any time with you! “hmmm i don’t knowww me and bill were planning to hang out later,” “y/n! you’re making me crazy!” “so did your flirting!” “saying that you liked it?” “shut up tom!” he uses your hands to pull your body closer to him, hugging you and swaying you side to side.
if this was a start to a new romance, to which you, ahem, did not EVER have, it sure as hell felt good.
“finally! i couldn’t stand to hear him talk about her anymore! like cmon now we couldn’t even fully finish practice with him bringing her up!” georg complains and gustav agrees nodding, “aww don’t be like that i think it’s cute! my little brother who’s so promiscuous finally found the one!” “but you’re younger..” gustav chimed in, “shut up gustav.”
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wolfiesmoon · 2 months
Text
Little reminders
Chigiri x gn!reader
guess who's writing for bllk again
turns out i kinda forgot that i'm in the bllk fandom sorry about that guys anyways want sum chigiri fluff
(man i want to write for chigiri much more in the future he's so silly and kissable to me)
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"What are these?"
"Flowers, duh. Are you blind?" you didn't mean to be so sassy at the moment, but his totally confused reaction about the flowers annoyed you.
"I know they're flowers. I was asking more in a 'why are you giving them to me' sense." Chigri sassed you back, and honestly, you wouldn't have it any other way even if you were slightly offended right now.
"What? Can't I just give my princess flowers when I feel like it?" you smiled mischeviously at your choice of petname, pushing the flowers to his chest so he was forced to take them.
"Not with that petname..." he sighed, taking the flowers out of your hands. He didn't particularly take offense to you calling him that but he would have preferred a more gender neutral petname.
"Why not? You remind me of one." you imagined Chigiri in a pretty pink princess dress in your mind and giggled at the mental image.
"Why are you giggling now...? I don't recall saying or doing something funny." he looked unamused, and you have a feeling he would be even less amused if you told him what you were actually laughing about.
"Nothing, nothing." an awkward silence fell between the two of you after you said that.
When you passed by the flower shop today and saw flowers that reminded you of Chigiri, you decided to buy them impulsively.
You didn't really think much beyond that. What could you possibly continue the conversation with?
"They reminded me of you. The flowers." you blurted out without thinking, cringing at yourself instantly after doing so.
"How?" Chigiri inspected the boquet in his hands. The flowers were pretty and all, but he didn't really get how they screamed 'Chigiri Hyoma' to you. But he wanted to know. Really bad.
"How? Their color reminds me of your pretty, sparkling eyes, and the petals are all shiny and thick like your hair AND kinda remind me of your eyelashes and the leaves are so lean and 'speedy-looking' and it reminds me of how fast you run, and-"
Your mouth was suddenly being covered by a smooth finger, and you made a strange noise upon being stopped mid-sentence.
"Alright, I get it. Don't start making an entire ode to my beauty here." He says so, but his cheeks are turning pink and the blush is spreading rapidly.
"Thank you. For the flowers, and the... compliments." He smiled down at the flowers, and then shifted his gaze back to you. Now he's viewing the random gift of flowers totally differently.
"Tell me not to do it." You gently moved his hand off your mouth. God, you were holding back so hard from kissing him all over it wasn't even funny.
"Don't do it?" Chigiri answered in confusion, gripping the boquet slightly harder.
"Not convincing enough. Get ready for... KISSING ATTACK!!!" you threw yourself onto him, peppering kisses all over his pretty face.
"Ack! Hey, you're-" he didn't exactly have an opening to get a few words in, so he submitted to his fate.
Not that it was a bad one. He enjoyed it far too much.
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Note
Hiii! Can I request a Gojo x male reader smut? The reader is shy especially when it come to intimacy so I feel like Gojo would tease and tease him to no end. Can you choose the kinks please? (But I'm thinking more along the lines of Bdsm or a lap dance or something. )
I really love your writing and I am sorry if this request is bad. Enjoy your day♡
Thank you for enjoying my writing! I would be more than happy to fulfill your request!
I hope you also have a good day, patron~
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Title: A Hands On Lesson
Characters: Gojo x m!reader
Contains: light BDSM, blindfolding, hand job, self restraint, praise
Fandom: Jujutsu Kaisen
Full request below the cut
All characters are 18+
MINORS, FEM ALIGNED, AGELESS/BLANK BLOGS DNI
Reblogs > likes
“I-If you’re gonna keep teasing me then at least teach me!”
The words came out suddenly, your face red with embarrassment as you buried it into a pillow. Gojo had been on your ass—playfully, he says—about your shyness that it finally sent you over the edge. You two were sitting on his large bed when it came up once again, but you had had enough. Snapping, however, only made you blurt out your true feelings, leaving Gojo to get a rush of ideas.
“Teach you, huh? Are you sure about that?”
You couldn’t face him, even if his gaze was hidden by his sunglasses.
“I need an answer~”
“I…N-No you’re just gonna keep teasing me…”
“Oh, listen. I tease you because I love you. I don’t mean anything ill behind it. You’re just fun to rile up~ I like seeing your face get all red~”
You were silent, unsure of how to approach this.
“Look, if you really want to expand upon things, you might want to be open to more experiences. I’m more than willing to teach you. But…I’ll need a ‘yes, sir.’~”
Your brows furrowed as you finally looked up some. “W-Why that?”
“Consent of course! Plus…I’ve always wanted to hear that handsome voice call me ‘sir.’~”
Still flushed as ever, you took a deep breath. You had really wanted this, but the idea was always scary. However, you trusted Gojo; he was your boyfriend after all.
You thought it over another moment, clutching the pillow before releasing another deep breath. “Y-Yes, sir.”
A grin grew on Gojo’s lips as he crawled over to you like a predator that found its food, but instead of you, he actually went for the nightstand, retrieving his eye mask from the drawer.
“W-Why did you grab that?” you asked.
“Well, it’s part of your lesson. That is, if you allow me.”
You weren’t sure what this had to do with anything, but you scooted closer, putting the pillow aside and waiting for his next move. Gojo put the mask over your eyes, bunching up the fabric in a way that concealed your vision. For a moment you though he was gonna put it on himself, not you.
“Wh-What’s this for?”
“Trust me. It’s all part of the lesson okay?”
And trust him you did, taking deep breaths to settle your nerves.
“Now, will you be a good boy for me, and put your hands behind your back?” You started to before he stopped you. “Ah, could I hear a proper answer~?”
You could tell he was teasing you again. You fought your nerves, mustering up what confidence you had, which wasn’t much. Your voice sounded meek. “Y-Yes, sir.”
“Mm…we’ll work on it.”
With your hands behind your back, Gojo took action. He carefully unzipped your pants, his hand brushing your semi erect shaft.
“G-Gojo!”
He halted, watching as you trembled from that brief touch. Honestly he wasn’t sure how truly interested in this you were, so he came up with an idea.
“Hey, if you really, really don’t want to do this, just say…’pineapple’, okay?”
A safe word. Okay, that put your mind at ease a bit, because you weren’t even sure yourself what you wanted. At least you had a back up plan.
You nodded. “Y-Yeah. I gotcha. Um…g-go ahead then, just…d-don’t stare at it.”
“Don’t stare? What do you mean I can’t look at this gorgeous cock of yours~?” Gojo didn’t miss a beat getting back into it, working on revealing a partially hardened cock from its fabric confines. “I mean look at that~”
“G-Gojooooooo…” you whined softly, nails gently digging into your skin. His touch felt heightened thanks to the blindfold, and your trembling body was a clear sign of it.
“Good boy~ Very good boy~” He gently began to stroke your cock, anything soft nearly immediately hardening as you sighed out in slow, deep breaths. You didn’t know praise could feel so good. It felt nice hearing him call you a good boy.
“Wh-What else is…i-in this lesson?” you breathed, your hips rocking up to match his strokes.
“Hmm…Well first, good boys stay still…”
Though it wasn’t a command, you found yourself stilling in place, biting your cheek to help you focus.
“Oh? Well I wasn’t expecting that. You stilled yourself right away. I think that deserves a treat~”
You were about to ask what it was, but you stopped yourself, wanting to just see where this would lead. Knowing you had that safe word made this a little less scary, which left you open when Gojo’s hand picked up pace, causing you to actively moan out instead of whimper.
“There we go~ That’s my good boy~”
Every time he said it, you let out a whimper, enjoying the sensation the words gave you.
“G-Gojo…I-I…—a-ah~—I-It feels…g-good~”
Perhaps it was the blindfold, or maybe it was the trust you had for Gojo, but you didn’t feel as nervous. Sure it was still nerve wracking, or maybe your nerves were too wracked to notice, but the pace of his hand alone felt like bliss.
“G-Gojo…s-sir, I’m…I-I’m gonna…~”
“Go ahead~ I want to see that handsome face contort from this~”
You threw caution to the wind, your hands coming down to balance you on the bed, fingers clenching the bedding as you bucked up into his hand, panting deeply as your climax approached. You moaned for you boyfriend again and again, even as it pitched up, until you finally released over his hand with a broken moan, relaxing afterwards.
With a small smirk, Gojo raised his hand to his mouth, his tongue coming out to clean his hand while getting a taste of you with a soft groan.
“G-Gojo…” you breathed. “I…Th-That was…fun~”
You felt the bed shift, and the fabric lifted up from your eyes, Gojo’s face smiling smugly at you.
“Ready for lesson number two~?”
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wammyhoe · 4 months
Note
Hi, I don't know if you're taking requests but if you are, can I please have Mello matt l and Nea's reaction to their s/o giving them flowers?
It's been a while since I've written for this fandom, but I hope you still want these! ♡ Anyway, I'll be a bit more active these couple of days. Requests are open :)
L eyes the flowers deadpan, then looks at you. "You don't need to go out of your way to buy cheesy things for me," he says bluntly. Of course, he would say something like that. But you assure you have these gestures to show that you love him and want him to feel valued and appreciated. He gives you a tiny smile before accepting the flowers.
Mello: Before tender offerings like this, Mello can't help but feel terribly out of place. Back at Wammy's, no one cared for him, and in the Mafia, it was all about alliances and interests. So, for him, it's a peculiar sensation—feeling cherished. Despite the mix of vulnerable feelings, he smirks and charmingly takes the gift, not without teasing you for it.
Matt doesn't care for most things; in fact, he barely cares about anything. Definitely, before you gift him the flowers, he swears romantic gestures like this were indifferent to him. However, it feels more than nice to know you're thoughtful enough to make such a gesture. Despite his initial thoughts on the matter, Matt finds himself smiling like a fool.
Near: He's more than happy to have you around. The timbre of your voice soothes him in ways he can't quite grasp. You're aware of this, even though he doesn't always meet your gaze when you speak. His attention only shifts upon hearing the rustle of wrapping paper. He's stunned for a moment before you explain. Near takes the gift gently. "You shouldn't have bothered. Thank you." You smile at him, and he keeps the flowers close until they eventually wither.
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