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#and i appreciate and thank them so so much for that. for being with me. in a way. i couldnt b more grateful for that
swiftispunk · 2 days
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spring breaks loose | joel miller x f!reader
a your summer dream one shot
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your summer dream masterlist | main masterlist | ao3 | follow @swiftispunkupdates and turn on notifications for updates
It's spring, you're young, you're lovely, you have a right to be happy. Come back into the world.
–Shirley Jackson, We Have Always Lived in the Castle
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pairing: joel miller x f!reader rating: 18+ word count: 11.2k
series warnings etc: [NO OUTBREAK] we'll call him dad's buddy!joel, fairly soft!joel, age difference (28/50), angst, smut (will specify with each chapter), fluff, alcohol, food, secret relationship until it's not.
chapter summary: building bridges and starting fresh. it's springtime in austin. chapter warnings: smut, lots of fluff, a sprinkling of angst, consensual somnophilia, unprotected p in v sex, creampie, squirting, vaginal fingering, oral (m receiving), alcohol + intoxication, reader is so very eepy, food, discussions of infidelity, a whole lot of dialogue and tying up loose ends, heather comes with her own warning, in this house we hate chris, time hop, pov swapping. no use of y/n.
a/n: we have reached the penultimate chapter of ysd (for real this time). thank you to everyone who has stuck around this long. thank you to @frannyzooey for helping me work out a few things in this chapter, @joelscruff for beta'ing, and @5oh5, who offered me plant guidance many moons ago now. i also wanted to just boost the fact that i do have a kofi account, and while there is never any pressure to tip, life is hard rn and i always always appreciate the help. love ya'll sm.
*lastly: be sure to see the very end of this post for a special SNEAK PEEK of the upcoming final chapter of your summer dream.
january
-
"I'm really happy," you insist, and in spite of it all, Joel's lips twitch up at the corners. You've told him how happy you are about a thousand times, but watching you confidently profess it to your father is something else entirely. 
"I'm really happy, okay?" you repeat, firm as you stare down the man across from him. Your father's face remains unchanged, stoic and blank as he nods. Joel swallows tightly as you nod back, and then you're gone.
Neither of the men utter a word until the back door swings shut behind you. Joel can feel your father's eyes on him, but he can't bring himself to meet them. He should say something. He clears his throat but then–   
"Joel...since Costa Rica?" your father asks. He doesn't sound angry, Joel notes. No, he sounds…hurt. 
At last, Joel looks up from the table, and your father stares back at him with obvious confusion in his eyes. Confusion and–as Joel had imagined–hurt. 
Joel sighs. 
"Yeah," he nods solemnly, shifting in his seat. "Yes."
Your dad just shakes his head, and Joel can practically see the cogs turning in his mind, playing back those days at the resort, piecing it all together in real time. 
"That whole time we were there, you–?"
"No–" Joel cuts him off. "Not…not the whole time."
Like that makes it better. Your father doesn't look at him, still lost in thought, still shaking his head defiantly. 
"I was…we were right across the hall. You–all that sneaking around–we–you–"
His rambling dissolves into incoherent sputtering until Joel finally chimes in again.
"I'm sorry," he says, and then he's shaking his head too, like he's just as much in disbelief about the whole thing as his best friend is. And he is, really. Couldn't believe it then, can hardly believe it now. "I know. I'm sorry."
"Goddamnit, Joel," your father suddenly exclaims, a palm coming down hard on the tabletop. His anger seems to catch up with him, as though Joel's quiet apology had somehow been the final nail in the coffin. "She's Sarah's age! I mean, that–that's my daughter!"
Joel swallows and sniffs back a heated flow of emotion. He knows he deserves it, deserves every bit of your father's ire. But that doesn't mean it doesn't sting, that feeling of being scolded by his oldest friend in the world. He shrinks a bit and crosses his arms over his chest defensively.
But he doesn't actually defend himself at all. For some reason, he digs the hole deeper. Maybe he's tired of lying. 
"Younger," he grumbles, staring down at his hands. 
"What?"
Joel clears his throat, cautiously daring to meet your father's accusatory glare. 
"She's younger than Sarah."
There's a long and painful beat of silence as your father sits back in his chair with a heavy, exasperated sigh. 
"What the hell is this, Joel?" he demands. Still biting, still cold, though not quite as infuriated. 
Joel seizes the opportunity. He leans forward, elbows on the table, pleading. Where to begin? He thinks about what he'd want to hear if the roles were reversed–and starts there.
"Everythin' was mutual, right from the start–I swear," Joel begins. "And I...I mean, I couldn't even remember the last time I seen her before that day at the airport. I ain't never even thought about her like that before. Then we were–spendin' all this time together, which you wanted us to do–"
"Uh-uh, don't you go puttin' this on me," your dad cuts in. "You know damn well this ain't what I had in mind."
Joel nods. 
"I know, I know," he agrees. "I didn't mean–sorry."
Your father doesn't respond. Joel sighs.
"Listen, she was hurtin', man–you don't know the half of what that boy did to her," Joel attempts to reason. "We got to talkin' about it all and I...I just wanted to be there for her, you know? And, sure, there was attraction there, she's a beautiful girl–"
"Alright, alright, alright," your father interrupts again, grimacing. "I don't need to hear about all that."
Joel nods again, swallowing back the words he'd been about to say–that the attraction had, miraculously, flown both ways. That you'd wanted him just as much as he'd wanted you. That he never would have sought you out if he hadn't known that was true. 
He contemplates his next words carefully. 
"Look, it wasn't right to keep it from you," Joel concedes eventually. "We–or, I–got caught up in it. You think I expected this? I mean she just–," Joel shakes his head, lost for words again as his cheeks warm and his lips curl into this fond little smile when he thinks of how completely and quickly you'd made a home for yourself in his heart, "She took me by surprise, man. But you know what it's like when you got a good thing goin'. You don't wanna risk losin' it."
Your dad just frowns, his mouth seemingly fused into a hard, unforgiving line. 
"Costa Rica was months ago, Joel."
Joel sighs. 
"I know. I know, okay? I wanted to tell you sooner. But she wasn't ready for that and I wasn't gonna go against her wishes."
Your father's jaw ticks as he chews on the inside of his cheek, thinking. Coldly assessing the man across from him like he's seeing him for the very first time. Joel crumbles under that stare, hates how it feels coming from someone he's known so long. 
"You know me, man," Joel pleads, wide eyes boring desperately into your father's. "You know me. When have I ever gone for someone younger? When have I ever even wanted that?"
Your father's face doesn't change but he also doesn't argue, so Joel goes on.
"All I wanna do–all I have ever wanted to do for that girl–is take care of her. And I-I know maybe it's…uncomfortable–"
Your father scoffs at the understatement of the century, and Joel can't help the way his own lips twitch upwards too. It's a moment of genuine camaraderie, of two fathers well aware of the absurdity of their situation. Their matching grins quickly fade, but nevertheless, Joel feels somewhat more at ease when he next speaks. 
"–but it's real," Joel concludes, "What we got. S'hard as it is to understand–and believe me, I ain't even sure I understand it, but…"
His voice trails off into a pensive sigh, mirrored by your father. There's another stretch of silence, but the air feels less tense now, a little less thick with disdain. Again, Joel ponders what he'd want to hear if he was in your father's shoes. What would give him the peace of mind to know this was okay?
"I'm…" he starts to say, but he's shocked to find the words get caught in his throat, obstructed by a sudden lump of emotion. He grunts past it, straightening his spine and squaring his shoulders while your father looks on with furrowed brows. 
"I'm in love with her," Joel finally manages, voice low and laced with devotion. 
It's infinitesimal, but Joel could swear he sees your father's eyes soften. 
"I ain't told her that yet," he continues. "But I think she knows. I think she's a smart girl, and I think she knows this is real, too. Hell, I don't think she'd'a stuck around this long if she didn't think I was serious about her. And so, I…I think you gotta trust her on this one. Even if you don't wanna trust me."
Your father crosses his arms over his chest and takes another long, weighty sigh. 
"Jesus Christ, Joel," he mutters, shaking his head down at the table. But it doesn't sound angry or even hurt anymore. It almost sounds teasing, and Joel almost laughs. 
"I know," he smirks. "Trust me, I know."
"S'pose I got no business tryna forbid it, do I?" your father says.
"She wouldn't let you even if you tried," Joel replies, grinning wider when he thinks of how you'd respond to that. You, so independent and sure of yourself. Yeah fucking right.
Your dad huffs out a single laugh. "Ain't that the truth."
Tentatively, both men sip at their drinks, falling back into something of a routine. It still feels…awkward. But the worst seems to have passed.
Meanwhile, Joel's heart is pounding in his chest as the reality of his admission catches up with him. He loves you. He's in love with you. He's never said it out loud before. His entire body suddenly aches with the need to see you, just so he can say it again and again and again. 
Joel polishes off his drink, pursing his lips around the burn of whiskey on his tongue. The two men lock eyes, and Joel thinks maybe–maybe–he can see the early signs of forgiveness there. 
"I get it f'you need some time," Joel says. "Guess I just…wanna make sure me n' you are gonna be alright."
Joel's best friend sighs, before nodding slowly and sympathetically. 
"Yeah," he grunts. "Yeah, we'll be alright. C'mon–"
He cocks his head to the side as he rises up out of his chair and Joel hastily follows suit. Your father pulls him into an affable, if somewhat unsure, embrace, firmly patting his palms over Joel's upper back. Joel returns the hug instinctively.
"Don't fuck this up, Miller," your father grumbles over Joel's shoulder.
Joel chuckles, honestly grateful for the familiar ribbing. "Won't. Promise."
That's about the time you come charging back through the door.
-
four months later
-
A blanket of grey coats the early-April sky above, a telltale sign of rain to come. It's appropriately ominous, you think, considering what you're about to do.
Joel herds you toward his truck in the driveway with a hand on your lower back, but something in your periphery gives you pause. A glimpse of colour that hadn't been there before, stopping you in your tracks about halfway down his front steps. 
"Those are new."
Joel stops too, following your eye line as he casually throws an arm across your shoulders. He smiles when he sees what you see, letting you guide him a little closer to what had once been an unassuming, mostly barren patch of dirt on his front lawn. Now, poking out from the otherwise lifeless bushes are a handful of tulips, vivid green stems giving way to pink and yellow petals, tentatively blooming in spite of the day's limited sunlight. 
"Oh…yeah," Joel shrugs. "Sarah and I planted 'em. Years ago. Grow back every year around this time."
You're not sure why that stirs something in you. But it does. 
Joel Miller has tulips in his garden.
Curiously, you inch towards them, crouching to delicately curl your fingers around the unfurling petals.
"They're beautiful," you muse. You turn to face him and find he's watching you with equal curiosity. "Pink and yellow?"
"She picked the pink."
"Adds up," you nod. "What made you go with yellow?"
He stares at your fingers fiddling with the stems, and shrugs. You think he seems a little shy. 
"Can't remember," he says. "They're sunny, I guess. Bright."
A tightness knots in your throat as he reaches out beside you to touch his own fingers to the petals, softly running his thumbs against them, seemingly deep in thought. You think of a younger Joel Miller, picking out yellow tulip seeds to plant with his daughter because they reminded him of the sun. A younger Joel Miller digging holes in the Earth to lay down his roots, burying a memory only to watch it grow back, year after year. A sure thing, a constant. Always there even if you can't see them.
Of course Joel Miller has tulips in his garden. 
"What?" he probes after a moment of prolonged silence. You clear your throat. 
"Nothing," you smile, craning to kiss his cheek and feeling the low rumble of his responding chuckle against your lips. "I love you."
He cups a hand over your face before you can get too far, pressing his mouth to yours in a deeper, far less chaste kiss. 
"I love you too," he murmurs as he pulls away. 
You're still thinking about the tulips as Joel backs out of the driveway, and the first of the day's raindrops begin to hit his windshield. You make your way out of the safety of the cul-de-sac, and with the low hum of the radio playing in the background, you count the houses on the street outside your window in an attempt to calm your nervous mind. 
Joel doesn't interrupt your silence. But as you merge onto the freeway, your heart begins to pound–and you decide you need a distraction. 
"It's nice they grow back every year," you say absently out the window. 
"Hm?" Joel's brows furrow as he glances over at you, sitting with your chin atop your fist and staring out at the steadily increasing rainfall. He quickly catches up with your train of thought. "Oh, the tulips. Yeah, it is nice. 'Specially after Sarah left. They always reminded me of her."
You nod and make some noncommittal humming sound. Talking was a stupid idea actually. 
As ever, Joel notes your demeanour. 
"You alright?" he asks, taking your hand across the centre console and squeezing three distinct times. 
You sigh.
"Just nervous."
"You'll be fine," he insists lightly, not for the first time. "I reckon she's a lot more nervous'n you are."
You can't argue with that. Heather is the one who fucked your ex-boyfriend. Heather is the one working to make amends. Heather is the one who threw away your friendship and is now asking for it back. 
"Yeah, that's probably true," you agree quietly. 
Joel sighs. He lifts your conjoined hands to his mouth to lay a kiss against your knuckles, keeping his eyes on the road as he does. 
"Just…remember, you're not goin' there to forgive her or to…pretend like nothin' happened," he says. "But I think you'll feel better once y'get this all hashed out."
"I know you're right," you nod, allowing the truth of his words to wash over you as you take another steadying breath and lean your head back into the seat behind you. "I just feel like I-I've been carrying the weight of this for too fucking long. I have to let it go. I'm doing the right thing."
It's a mantra you have to keep reminding yourself of–you're doing the right thing. Not just from a being the bigger person standpoint, but for you. You need to do this so you can close this chapter of your life for good. 
"You're takin' the time to hear her out after all the shit she put you through," Joel goes on. "Makes you a better person than most people I know."
The pride and adoration in his voice makes warmth bloom in your tummy, but you roll your eyes all the same–out of habit more than anything else. 
"I don't know about that."
"I do."
His gaze darts in your direction again, and there is no trace of a lie in that look. So you choose not to fight him, just smile tightly and accept his reassurance, falling back into comfortable quiet for the rest of your drive. 
By the time he pulls up in front of the cafe you'd agreed to meet Heather at, your nerves have returned tenfold. Is she already inside? You're ten minutes early so maybe not. Is it better if you're here first or would that make her feel weird? Why are you worried about making her feel weird?  
God, it never used to feel this terrifying to see your best friend. You have half a mind to ask Joel to wait with you but ultimately decide against it. You need to be a big girl about this. 
"I can do this," you tell yourself instead. 
"You can," Joel agrees, taking you in his arms and pressing a kiss to the top of your head. "Call me if it goes south and I'll come pick y'up, alright?"
You nod resolutely as you unravel yourself from his hold. 
"'Kay. Thank you."
"Good luck, baby girl."
With one last parting kiss, Joel lets you go, watching you from the driver's seat until you disappear behind the door of the cafe.
-
Heather is not there yet, as it turns out, and you can't tell if that makes this better or worse. 
Now you're faced with new dilemmas. Should you order her a coffee? You haven't seen her in eight months; what if she takes it differently now? 
She fucked your boyfriend–why would you buy her a coffee? the pettier part of you wonders.
And that's…true, you suppose.
So you buy yourself a latte and get it in a to-go cup, find a seat at a two-person table in the back of the dining room and wait. But not for long.
Barely five minutes later and Heather is coming through the door. She spots you and there's a moment of awkward uncertainty as you half-rise from your chair, the both of you waving at each other before Heather gestures to the line at the till. You nod and retake your seat.
You resist the urge to text Joel. You can do this. You can do this on your own.
Heather settles up, cautiously setting her coffee cup on the table beside yours and you're not sure why–instinct or something–but you stand when she gets there, and let her pull you into a hug. 
"Hi, babe." Her voice is thick and her arms are tight around you. And, goddamnit, for everything she put you through, there is a familiarity in that embrace, something long-forgotten in the warmth of her voice. 
"Hey," you murmur, letting her squeeze you in tighter before you both pull away. "Hey."
She assesses you with wide, wet eyes, hands still resting on your shoulders.
"You look amazing," she says.
"Thanks."
"I don't even know where to start," she shakes her head. "Thank you for seeing me."
"Of course." Like you hadn't stewed over it for literal weeks.
"Why don't I just–I mean, I have to–"
You can see her struggling, and you can't help but sympathize. She was always the more confident of the two of you, always more direct and brave–but in that warm kind of way that used to always put you at ease. Now, she seems completely lost, awkwardly taking a seat and waiting for you to do the same. She clutches her hands around her coffee cup and you don't think you've ever seen her look so small. 
"I am…so fucking sorry," she finally says. She doesn't shy away from you when she says it, and you have to respect her courage for that. She looks you dead in the eyes and doesn't avert her stare even once. 
You swallow tightly. "I know."
"Can I…would you let me explain?"
"Actually, Heather," you say, straightening in your seat a bit to steel yourself. Heather's face falls, until you go on, "Can I go first? I just need to say my piece and then, yes, you can explain."
She's nodding furiously before you even get the words out.
"Of course, yes, oh my god, please."
She sits back, probably gearing up for the lashing of a lifetime. It's not quite what you have planned but–
"You really hurt me. You and Chris. Whatever the story is, whatever went down, it doesn't change the fact that what you two did just... completely fucked me up. My entire life changed overnight because of you. I spent so many days crying, screaming, trying to just...figure out what I'd done to deserve that. Why wasn't I enough? Why wasn't I good enough for Chris? Why wasn't I a good enough friend to you? Like, if I was a better friend to you maybe you wouldn't have done that to me, you know?"
Fat tears slowly well in Heather's eyes as you speak, finally spilling over as you near the end of your monologue. But she doesn't interrupt or argue, and for that, you're grateful.
"I wondered about all of that for a really long time," you continue. "In those first few days when it was hardest...and for so many months after. But...I'm okay now. I think actually it all kind of worked out in the end, as crazy as that sounds."
At least it had all brought you to Joel.
"But I just needed you to know what it did to me. I think it's important that you know."
Heather hastily swipes at her tears, blinking them away and nodding her agreement.
"And that's it, that's all I have to say," you conclude. The weight on your shoulders feels lighter already. "You don't have to say anything back but...I do want to hear you out. You can...you can tell me what happened now."
That was the point of all this after all, you guess. 
Heather takes a deep, shaky breath. You sip your coffee. 
"Okay. Well, fuck. Okay. I had feelings for Chris," she begins. "But I never–I never dreamed of acting on them while you two were together, you have to know that. It wasn't premeditated or-or-or something I actively thought about–"
"I never thought that."
It's true. Heather's a lot of things, but she's not conniving. 
"Okay," she nods, seeming genuinely relieved. "Good. I mean, it still doesn't make it right, I know that. But he–"
She cuts herself off, a nervous shiver passing over her. Her courage wanes, and she looks down at the table as she dives into the part of her story that neither of you wants you to relive. 
"That night at your birthday party, he started telling me things. He…"
Her voice trails off again, and you can understand her fears, but you need to know this. Whatever it is.
"Heather, it's okay, you can tell me."
She glances up at you. You make your resolve as clear as possible on your face until you see her nod. 
"What happened was…I was drunk and I-I told him how I felt," she continues. "I shouldn't have done that, I know that. But that's when he started saying all this stuff about how he wasn't happy and how he was planning to break up with you. He-he said he'd always wanted to be with me instead."
She stops, peeking up at you, but the only response you can offer her is a curt little,
"Oh."
Interesting. He'd made no indication of his unhappiness to you. 
"In that moment, I just…I believed him. I should have just come straight to you but I let my stupid feelings get in the way and I–"
"He can definitely be very convincing," you say bitingly. Heather almost laughs, but quickly reins herself in. 
"It's no excuse, and I know that," she says. "I just really thought he meant it. That he was going to end it with you and choose me instead. Not that that would have been okay either, but. God, in hindsight, I just was not thinking clearly at all."
Heather buries her face in her hands but it's getting hard to focus. You're flitting back through memories, trying to piece things together. Had there been signs? Since meeting Joel, you're acutely aware that you hadn't been as happy as you could have been with Chris, but you can't ever recall letting that on at the time. And you certainly can't recall Chris ever letting on his unhappiness. It doesn't add up. 
"Then he did end it with you and you went to Costa Rica and I felt like, 'Okay, this is what he'd promised,' but…I could tell right away he was having second thoughts. All of a sudden, he's changing his tune, saying he wants to get back together with you and basically telling me I could just be like a-like a side piece or something."
At that, you scoff mirthlessly. Of course.
That's why he hadn't let anything on. He'd been trying to have his cake and eat it too. Motherfucker. 
"Yeah," Heather goes on. "So I said, 'Fuck you' and I walked. I was already feeling terrible about what I'd done to you and that just settled it for me."
"Fuck," you sigh, pinching at a pressure point between your eyes.
"And I haven't talked to him once since then," Heather insists. She reaches across the table and wraps a hand around your wrist, and you let her. "I promise."
You place your own hand over hers–again operating on some kind of deep-seated instinct. 
"Thank you," you tell her. "For–I don't know, for being honest."
"I would've told you everything sooner if you'd have let me–"
"I know."
"But I know–I know you needed your time. You didn't have to hear me out at all, and I would have deserved that. I take full responsibility, I do, but, my god, babe–," Heather's lips pull up in a smirk and you share a knowing glance, "–that guy fucking sucks."
You could try to fight the way your own face contorts into a grin, but you don't. 
"Yeah," you agree. "He really fucking does."
There's a short beat of silence, filled with the sounds of your uncertain, quiet laughter.
"Are we okay?" Heather finally asks tentatively, letting your arm go. "Or–shit. Sorry. You don't have to answer that."
"No–it…I don't know yet," you say truthfully. "But, you know, I don't think you deserve what he did to you, either. And I'm sorry."
"I'm okay now. All I really care about is you."
You smile at each other tightly–uncertainly–and sip quietly at your coffees. She doesn't demand forgiveness or push the subject further. You think the air feels just a little clearer now, a little more like before.
"So what's new with you?" she chimes in after a moment. "How've you been? You never post on Instagram anymore."
Your smile turns a little shy as you debate telling her about Joel. But her gaze is so earnest and curious, it makes you want that normalcy, to be able to gush to your best friend about the man you've fallen in love with. 
"Well," you shrug, sitting up a little straighter in your chair. "I'm seeing someone."
Heather's jaw drops in genuine delight, her eyes going wide with wonder.
"No way! Tell me everything."
And you do. You tell her all about Joel and Costa Rica, and every perfect moment since. Heather gasps and squeals at all the appropriate times and you find yourself remembering why it feels so good to have someone to talk about these things with. It's so validating to watch someone be as excited about your love life as you feel about it. 
"Wait," she interrupts, early on in your retelling, "If he's your dad's friend–how old is he?"
You bite your lip, hardly bashful about it these days, but after the disaster that was telling your parents, you never know how someone could react anymore.
"He's in his fifties," you confess.
Heather's hands come up over her mouth, but her eyes are swimming with barely-contained glee.
"Shut up, oh my god," she exclaims. Her initial shock fades into awe, and when her hands fall from her face, you think she looks kind of impressed, "Damn, girl. That's hot. Is he hot?"
You smile. "He's so fucking hot."
When you're home later, you'll have to remember to tell Joel how good it had felt to brag about him. You're sure he'll act coy, but you know it'll make his ego bloom, just a little bit.
It goes on like that as the minutes pass, you catching Heather up on the whirlwind that the last eight months or so have been. She looks kind of proud, and that feels good too. You're so proud of Joel, proud of the life you've built together, the way he's taught you so much about yourself and helped you grow into this new, happier person. It's nice to have someone else see that.
"So, your mom still doesn't approve?" she asks once you've got her fully up to speed.
You shrug. "Not as far as I know. I haven't spoken to her since that night we told them."
"Oh, babe."
You just shrug again, pushing back on her sympathetic gaze. 
"Maybe she just needs some time," Heather posits, "I mean, you seem so happy. She'll see that eventually."
"Maybe, yeah."
Heather offers you her own scoop after that, telling you all about how she's been busy working on herself, taking courses to get her yoga-teaching license and enjoying being single for the time being–though she does work in a few stories of some particularly exciting hook-ups. She seems well, and in spite of everything, you're happy for her. 
What's more, you kind of don't want your time with her to end. She seems to sense it too.
"Hey, do you want to maybe grab a drink? Like, a real drink?" she offers once your take-out cups are empty and the cafe's traffic has slowed to an early-evening lull. 
"Yeah, okay, fuck it," you agree with a shrug. Heather smiles excitedly before excusing herself to the bathroom, leaving you to check your phone for the first time in hours.
Everything good? reads a text from Joel. 
all good, you reply, i'll be a little later than i thought. 
Take yr time. Love you.
love you too.
-
A cocktail deep, pop music blaring, and a plate of nachos between you; this is true familiarity with Heather.  
You're finally starting to feel some semblance of comfortable, and it feels fucking good. To laugh with an old friend, even if there's still that faint undercurrent of distrust there. You imagine it won't ever fully go away. The minutes tick by, and while that distant uncertainty never fades, it gets easier. It gets fun.
"So, be honest," Heather says, diving headfirst into her second blended margarita. Her eyes sparkle with a devious little glint and you already have a feeling what she's going to ask. "This guy…he's in his fifties, right?"
"Right," you grin. 
"So like…what's the sex like?"
Your grin widens as a warmth floods your cheeks. You think about Joel, his patience and his generosity, his big cock and his skillful hands. His curiosity and his devotion, every new experience he's offered you and how genuinely thrilled he seems to do so. You try not to think about it for long, though, because your tummy is already fluttering in a way it really shouldn't be in public.
"Honestly," you say, sipping at your drink coyly. "I don't think it could possibly be any better."
Heather makes a delighted little noise, practically bouncing her chair. 
"Oh my god, okay…but what about like, his stamina?"
"Um," you laugh. "Hasn't been an issue yet."
"I love this for you so much, babe," she smiles and it sounds like she really means it. "Can I see what he looks like?"
You have no qualms saying no to that. You may be stupidly in love, but you don't think it's biased of you to find Joel Miller beautiful. It's simply an objective truth. And it feels good to show him off.
You pull your phone out of your purse and flash Heather your lockscreen–a picture of Joel on the beach in Costa Rica, salt-and-pepper curls tousled in the breeze, soft belly poking out over his swim trunks, smiling at you over his broad shoulders.
"Oh my god," Heather repeats, yanking your phone right out of your hand for a better look. She taps the screen to keep it alive as she stares between the picture and you, smiling triumphantly across from her. "Whoa."
"Mhm," you smirk, your chest swelling with pride. 
“That's a man, baby," she commends you, handing back your phone. You sneak a parting glance down at the image of Joel on your screen before locking it. Heather sits back against the booth behind her, shaking her head in wonder. "And he sounds like he's so good to you."
You nod, sighing dreamily. "Yeah...he's the best."
"Good. You deserve that."
It's honestly a touching sentiment, one that makes you warm and soft. You didn't know how nice it would feel to have just one person in your life accept your relationship with Joel without any convincing at all. You share a smile and clink your glasses. 
"I need an older man," Heather jokes, the sincerity of the moment quickly dissipating. "I'm so sick of boys."
"Joel certainly puts Chris to shame, that's for sure," you admit candidly. 
Heather huffs. "Yeah, well, that's not saying much, is it?"
You almost squirt your drink out through your nose. 
"Sorry, oh my god," Heather laughs, but it's too late. And it's probably wrong, but you don't care. You both descend into a fit of giggles at your ex's expense, and something about it feels weirdly cathartic.
-
It's like old times after that. Easier to forget the drama when you're three drinks deep and laughing so much. You're comfortably drunk in a way you haven't been in a while, falling quickly back into your usual repartee with Heather. You feel lighter–freer–as you and Heather find your way to the dance floor and pick up basically where you'd left off nearly a year ago.
You also miss Joel.
He's being respectful, clearly trying to give you space, texting you to be safe when you'd let him know you'd be staying out a little longer. And that's nice and all, but you've talked about him so much tonight, and for all the fun you're having, you just want his arms around you and his lips on yours again. 
"Didn't we go to high school with that guy?" Heather leans in close as you dance, effectively distracting you.
You follow her stare across the bar, averting your gaze the second you lock eyes with a handsome stranger leaning against the far wall. He's with a friend, and the two of them eye you and Heather with unabashed interest.
"Which one?" you giggle. 
"The one on the left!"
You peek over at the men again, honing in on the one on the left. He does kind of look familiar. He's also still watching the two of you curiously.
"Uh…" you wrack your brain, trying to recall. It feels like a lifetime ago.
"Tom!" Heather exclaims. You shake your head. 
"That doesn't sound right."
"No, it is! Tom from the basketball team, remember?" 
You look over again, but it's still not clicking. Maybe you're drunker than you'd thought.
"He's kinda cute," Heather murmurs slyly in your ear. You grin. 
The man is tall and lean, light-haired and certainly good-looking enough. A little older than both of you, but younger than the broader, burlier man beside him. You think maybe they could be brothers. 
"Do you want to say hi?" you ask her. 
Heather shakes her head.
"I have a better idea," she winks.
She grabs your hand and guides you to the bar, leaning against it and lengthening her body ever so. It doesn't take long before the men are coming up beside you like clockwork. 
You could always count on Heather to find a way to get free drinks.
"What are you drinking, ladies?" the younger one implores confidently, placing an elbow on the bar top beside Heather. "Oh shit, do I know you?"
"I want a shot," Heather says, ignoring his question. "You guys want a shot?"
"Fuck, yeah–whiskey alright?"
"Tequila," Heather smirks definitively.
-
Despite being out of practice, you haven't lost the ability to recognize good vibes from bad. And the guys give off good vibes. Especially once you all collectively figure out that you did indeed go to high school together. 
You shoot a pointed look at Heather when the younger one tells you his name is, in fact, Tim. 
"From the basketball team, though, right?" Heather asks. Tim frowns.
"Actually, it was water polo," he says.
"Water polo!" Heather repeats, looking at you with open arms and winking. You try to conceal your giggling. "Of course, I remember now."
Tim grins bashfully, even though you are sure Heather most certainly does not remember. 
You cheers to the Ravens and down your shots and then Tim ushers Heather back to the dance floor. You happily let her go. Tim seems kind of goofy, consistently making Heather throw her head back in laughter and it honestly feels nice to watch her look so content. You think about how Joel had made you feel those first few days in Costa Rica, when you'd still been reeling with all that heart ache. 
You think about how much resentment you'd harboured for Heather back then, and while it's not totally gone, there's a sense of kinship there now too. Chris had hurt you both, and you know all too well how healing it had been to find someone willing to stitch up the wounds he'd left. You want that for Heather. 
Goddamnit, you miss Joel. 
You imagine showing him off to all your old high school friends like he was some kind of trophy husband at a class reunion. You'd walk into the gymnasium, hanging confidently off his arm and everyone there would turn and stare. They'd all whisper about his age, you bet. Call you mean names behind the bleachers and gossip about whether or not he was your sugar daddy. Thinking like that used to make you anxious, now it makes you grin. 
"You want another drink?"
The other guy, Mike, is still sitting with you at the bar. He is Tim's brother, though you don't recognize him at all. Two years older and visiting from Philly, he's pretty clearly into you. But the conversation has been easy and he hasn't tried anything weird, so you don't think too much of it. You regale him about all your favourite local taquerias and what you studied in college, conscious of the way he seems just a little bit too interested in all of it. 
But you definitely don't need another drink, bordering on the better side of too drunk, and as nice as he is, you think it's probably best not to lead him on any longer. 
"Actually, I think I might head out soon."
"That's cool," Mike shrugs, polishing off the beer in his hand. "Wanna go grab a bite? Keep hangin' out?"
He sounds casual enough, but there's also an air of hopefulness in his voice. 
"Oh, that's okay." You clear your throat, suddenly nervous at the thought of quashing that hope. "I'm, um, I'm actually spoken for."
Unconsciously, your fingers fly to the shell around your neck, fiddling idly with the chain. Mike's eyes follow the motion.
Much to your relief, Mike smiles, seemingly unbothered. 
"Makes sense," he nods. His eyes trail up and down your body in a way that makes your cheeks burn. It also really makes you miss Joel. He's the only one you want looking at you like that. 
"Well, he's a lucky guy, whoever he is," Mike says with a wink. 
"Yeah," you agree fondly. "He is."
-
It's a quarter past eleven when Joel finally hears a car pull up outside. Two minutes later and your key is turning in the door, Henry bounding off the bed beside him to greet you downstairs. 
"Hi, baby boy!"
Your voice, high-pitched and much too loud, cuts through the quiet of his home. He smiles to himself as he listens to you kick your shoes off, murmuring unintelligible nonsense to Henry as you both make your way back up to the bedroom. Joel sets his book on the nightstand and tilts his glasses down his nose, sitting up straighter until you emerge in the doorway with Henry in your arms and a crooked smile plastered across your face. 
"Hey, sweetheart," he smirks.
You visibly soften at the sight of him, Henry spilling out of your grip.
"Hi," you whine.
Joel can't quite get a read on your energy, watching you curiously strip off your jeans and crawl up the mattress till you're splayed out on top of him.    
"Mmmm, Joel," you sigh dreamily as you make yourself at home across his chest. 
"I take it that went alright?" he asks, wrapping an arm around your neck to stroke the back of your head. You practically purr into his sternum and the sound makes his insides turn.
"Yes," you nod, before pressing both hands into his shoulders to push yourself up so you're straddling him, "But, Joel…"
Now face to face, you appear a bit dazed as you blink down at him, an adorable little pout painting your features. Joel smirks, raising his eyebrows expectantly as he waits for you to finish your thought.
"I missed you so much," you conclude, catching him off guard when you fist the front of his t-shirt and dive forward to slant your mouth over his.
You plunge your tongue between his lips and Joel can taste tequila there, can feel it too in the way you're kissing him; sloppy, hungry, eager. 
"Only been gone a few hours, sweetheart," he chuckles against your lips.
"I know, but…after the cafe, we went drinking and–"
"No shit."
With what appears to be considerable effort, you push yourself off his chest and point an accusatory finger in his face. Your eyes narrow and Joel thinks you look a little too adorable for your own good. 
"Watch it, Miller."
Joel grins. 
"Mmmm, or what?" he hums, tracing his palms up and over your sides, which seems to distract you for a moment, your eyelids fluttering as a minute shiver visibly courses through you. You quickly pull yourself together.
Your blissful features quickly dissolve back into an overdone pout and Joel watches with amusement as you pry his fingers off your body. He could resist, but he doesn't, honestly just curious–and maybe a little turned on–as you collect his wrists in your hands and pin his arms down on the mattress beside his head.
Seemingly content with your work, you hold him there with eyebrows raised–and Joel decides to let you have the win. 
"Can I finish my story, please?"
"Yes, ma'am," he smirks. You bristle at that but otherwise manage to stay on track.
"We went drinking, and it was really, really fun," you go on. You shift your weight slightly, and Joel smirks when he catches the moment you lose your train of thought at the feeling of his hardening cock beneath you. 
"And?" he presses.
"I-I think I'm still mad at her…but it was…nice."
"That's good, baby," Joel murmurs, experimentally rolling his hips upwards just to watch your eyelids flutter. "I'm real proud of ya."
You exhale, making a sound that's almost a sob as you abandon your grip around his wrists to fold yourself over his chest again. You greedily kiss his neck and his ears and his face, and Joel lets you. Your drunken desperation is making him harder than he'd like to admit, and it's pretty fucking endearing to watch you suck your little marks into his skin with no inhibitions whatsoever.
"I talked about you a lot," you smile, clumsily resituating yourself so you're lying against his side, folding yourself in half so you're speaking the words against his belly. 
"Yeah?" He rests his hand on the back of your skull, chuckling at the way you keen into his touch. "Talked about me how?"
"Wouldn't you like to know," you sneer just as you curl your fingers under the waistband of his boxers.
"What're you doin' there, baby girl?"
You peer up at him with a devastating puppy-dog stare, all wide-eyed and needy. "I missed your cock. I just wanna suck on it a little."
"Jesus," Joel breathes. He's powerless to fight you then as you tug his boxers down his thighs to reveal his semi-hard cock. He really shouldn't let you in this state but you're already wrapping your fingers around him and tonguing at his slit and it's too fucking late now. He stiffens fully in your grasp and promptly loses any will to stop you.
Then you close your lips around his length and take him as deep as you can, moaning like he's just given you the sweetest gift in the world. 
"Fuck, yeah, you missed it," he grunts as you begin to bob, downright eager with it, if not lacking some of your usual finesse. You coat his cock with sloppy strings of saliva and move on him in an uneven rhythm but Joel's not gonna argue with a hot, wet mouth. Joel is more than happy to watch you take what you want from him. 
"Messy girl," he remarks affectionately, stroking a palm down your spine to your ass, firmly cupping your cheek in his hand. "This all you wanted? Just to come home and let me stuff that pretty little mouth?"
"Mhm," you hum blissfully around him, spluttering a bit as you swallow him down again.
"Fuck, that's a good girl," he groans.
At that, you whimper, your cheek falling into his belly with your mouth still closed around his cock. You keep up the motions of your mouth for a moment, humming and moaning around him as you draw precum from his tip and suck it down greedily until he feels your jaw slowly begin to slacken.
He pets your hair and your body goes loose, heavy where it lays across his middle.
Joel can sense a shift in you then, your eagerness fading even as you continue to lap at his tip. Your fingers feel a little weaker around his shaft but you don't let up, lazily jerking him until he feels your hand go still, your lips barely grazing him anymore. You offer him a few wet, open-mouthed kisses to the head of his cock and then you go limp.
Joel waits a moment to be sure, peeking down at you questioningly.
Sure enough, you're asleep. 
"Oh, baby," Joel sighs fondly. He squeezes your ass but you don't stir. Your slow, steady breathing lets him know you're really out, his hard cock forgotten in your grasp. You'll probably be embarrassed in the morning, but Joel's just stupidly endeared, hoisting you up into his arms and ignoring your half-conscious sounds of protest. 
"C'mere, sweetheart, there you go."
He nestles up behind you, cradling you into his chest with his cock pressed against your ass. You shimmy back into him and Joel tries to ignore the ache, tells himself it'll feel better to fuck you in the morning when you've sobered up anyway. He reaches back to turn off the lamp on the nightstand and you whine at the loss of his body against yours. 
"Joel," you whisper as he retakes his place behind you. "Did you come?"
He fights for his life not to burst out laughing. You're so goddamn cute.
"No, baby," he murmurs, kissing his favourite spot behind your ear. "Made me feel real fuckin' good, though. You can make me come tomorrow, alright?"
You hum contentedly, already drifting back to sleep. Joel pulls you in tighter, whispers that he loves you even though he doesn't think you can hear him, and it's not long before he's following behind you.
-
His alarm wakes him just as a beam of sunlight passes through his window, but it doesn't have the same effect on you.
You snooze peacefully with your back adhered to his chest, the gentle curve of your ass still flush against his cock. Your panties are gone; had you gotten up in the night? He can't remember now. It doesn't matter anyway, not when he can feel the heat of your body this close, bare flesh all soft and warm against him as the memory of the night before floods his senses. He'd fallen asleep with his dick still hard–aching–and within seconds of being awake, he's right back where you'd left him last night. 
Not that it's uncommon for Joel to wake up horny when he sleeps next to you, but it's worse like this, worse that he's already felt your lips on his cock just a few hours prior, without getting the chance to come down your throat.
"Hey," he murmurs into your hair, but you don't wake up. You just move your hips backwards unconsciously, the hard length of his cock pressing warm between your cheeks. Driving him fucking crazy and you don't even know it.
Joel growls, a low, carnal sound he barely recognizes as he trails a hand down the side of your body. He cups your ass in his palm and spreads your cheeks apart, the tips of his fingers just barely grazing your hole. You shiver and Joel smirks. Sound asleep and you still respond to having your ass played with. Something about knowing you so well makes him that much harder. 
Pliant and gone, you let him play with you, hands traversing every inch of your skin, up and over your belly to cup your breasts. His breath ragged in your ear, he gently twists your nipples just to feel them come alive under his touch. You squirm for him and Joel responds in turn, unable to help himself as he begins to slowly rut his hips against you. 
"Sweet thing," he husks, feeling his touch grow rougher on your hipbone, your ass flush against his bulge as he grinds into you like a fucking teenager. "You don't even fuckin' know. Got no idea what you’re doin' to me, do you?"
He knows you can't hear him. Right now, he doesn't care. 
He's wanted you like this since Costa Rica, too nervous to ask until you'd given him the okay all those months ago now. He's had you so many ways, and still you say you want more. He's not sure what he ever did to deserve you, but if one thing's been true from the start, it's that Joel Miller is not strong enough to deny you anything. 
Something about this, though, feels decidedly selfish. His hand on your thigh, positioning your pliant muscles to his liking, bending your leg at the knee just so he can spread you open wider, slip his fingers between your ass cheeks and scrape them over your bare pussy; that's for him. 
The sticky wetness he feels there–that's his. 
Your spine arching in your sleep when he sinks two fingers into your warm, dripping hole–that's because of him. 
"Still want it, baby?" he hums as he pumps his fingers in and out. "Still want this cock?"
He doesn't wait for you to answer. For once, he just takes. 
You put up no resistance as he replaces his fingers with his cock, pulling your body back into him until his hips meet your ass.
"Fuck," he hisses as he bottoms out.
You're so warm, so tight and inviting and perfect around him.
You're so wet, slick pools of arousal coating the hairs on his lower belly, sticking to your skin where it touches his.
And you're so soft, all gooey and loose in his arms as he slowly rocks into you, as close as he can possibly get and somehow never close enough. 
"S'my good girl," he breathes, "Take it just like that for me. Finish what you started, huh?"
He moves without haste, content just to feel you like this, close and confined under the covers. Experimentally, he reaches around you to touch his fingers to your clit, sighing in amazement when your pussy clenches on his cock, a wave of slick gathering at the place you're connected.
"Yeah? That feel good?" he says to no one as he gently circles your pearl. He's rewarded with a breathy little moan, the prettiest fucking sound he's ever heard. His hips snap against yours with more force now, jostling you with you every thrust. He can feel his control waning, and he's gonna wake you up soon if he's not careful. 
Maybe he's done being careful. 
Cock still buried inside you, he rolls you both so he's lying above you, your body prone to the mattress beneath him. Your fingers curl into little fists and then you gasp, eyelids fluttering against the light of morning. Something dark and animalistic twists in him when he watches the awareness creep across your face, the way your features contort and you strain to look back over your shoulder, piecing it all together. 
"Oh my god," you whine when it clicks. "Joel, fuck, fuck–ohmygodJoel–"
"Shh, I know, baby, I know…I got you, you're okay," he babbles, folding over you to nip hungrily at your shoulders. You throw your head back and expose the column of your neck to him and Joel bites down there too just because he can. "Just had to feel you like this. You were so wet."
"Oh, fuck," you cry, voice still hoarse with sleep as Joel pounds into you harder. No reason to hold back now. "Fuck yes, Joel, take it."
"Yeah?"
"Please."
That's all he needs to hear.
With his arms wrapped firmly around your middle, Joel sits back onto his knees, taking you with him as he drapes you over his thighs and pulls you down onto his length. Your body still feels weak with sleep, almost passive in his grasp in a way he's not sure he should enjoy so much. He doesn't overthink it. 
What he does is find your clit again, massaging his fingers over the bundle of nerves while he thrusts his cock up into you. A wanton moan pours from your throat and Joel catches it in a messy, open-mouthed kiss. 
"There you go, there you go," Joel rambles when he feels you start to quiver, your pussy constricting around him as you spill listless, needy sounds of pleasure onto his lips. "Feels so good, don't it? Wakin' up with a cock inside you. This is what you wanted. Yeah? You gonna come?"
"Yesyes, fuck, yes Joel, I'm coming–"
"I know," he grins, "I know, baby."
He knows because he feels it. He feels you pulse around his length, feels your muscles seize and loosen, feels your little clit twitch beneath his fingers as he coaxes you through your high. He also feels something new, something wet and warm and sinful. 
"Oh, good girl," he groans. "Fuck–look at that."
You're gushing for him, liquid pouring out over his fingers and his cock and his balls, staining the sheets beneath you. You writhe in his arms but Joel just keeps fucking you, fucks you until he's drawn every last drop from you. Fucks you until he's coming too, clutching you against him as his cock spasms between your walls and paints your insides with spend. Hot cum leaks out around his length, drips down your inner thighs, and makes a mess of your already messy pussy. 
He comes and comes and then it ends, strangled moans fading into ragged breaths and heady grunts of release. 
"Jesus," Joel pants into the hollow of your ear as he slowly comes down. "You alright?"
"Yes," you sigh. "Holy shit, thank you, Joel. Thank you."
He's got no fucking idea what for. 
He pulls you off his cock and turns you in his lap to face him. Your arms coil around his neck and you cling to him like a koala, your face buried in his chest. He holds you there, because he thinks you might need that–and also because he wants to. 
"How'd I get so lucky, huh?" he ponders as he gently strokes your hair.
"I'm lucky," you protest softly. "I was trying to tell you that last night."
"I thought you were tryin' to suck my cock."
You laugh breathlessly, unravelling yourself from him just enough to let him see your face. You curl your fingers into his hair in a possessive sort of way that would probably make him hard if he hadn't just come so thoroughly. 
"That was supposed to be an act of gratitude."
"For what? I didn't do nothin'."
He tries to keep his tone as light as yours, but his insecurities always bleed through no matter how hard he tries. You sense the earnestness in his voice, and match it head on. 
"That's not true. You've made everything better," you whisper, touching your forehead to his. "I'm so fucking happy you're in my life."
He's gonna have to ask you exactly what all went down with Heather. He figures for now it can wait. 
You kiss him and he kisses you back, his furrowed brows softening as your lips move against his in a now-familiar dance. The sun rises over Austin and though he's not sure he'll ever have the words to tell you, Joel thinks he's pretty damn happy you're in his life too.
-
"So I was thinking," you say around a mouthful of eggs the following Saturday.
"Uh-oh," Joel grins. 
You fix him with a look and his grin only widens. 
"Anyway," you continue pointedly, shovelling another forkful of eggs into your mouth. "I was thinking–I'm kind of on a roll here. You know, in terms of, like, building bridges or whatever."
"Sure," Joel nods.
"And I'm thinking that…maybe I'm ready to talk to my mom."
Joel's eyebrows shoot up his forehead. "Yeah?"
"Yeah, like…" you shrug, focusing on your breakfast as you talk out what's been on your mind since you'd seen Heather last weekend. Being with her and hearing her side of the story had given you some foundation with which to forgive her. It's been gnawing at you that you haven't really given your own mother that chance. Perhaps if she could just see how happy you are, she'd eventually come around. 
You explain all this to Joel, who nods along and hums his agreement. 
"I just feel like I've…closed myself off to her and it's not really fair for me to just expect her to magically see the light, you know? I mean, look at dad. He's been coming around more, he's been seeing us together. And he's basically okay with it all now. Maybe it's just me, you know? Maybe I need to let her in."
Joel shakes his head, smiling at you affectionately. "You're too good for your own good, you know that?"
You scoff and wave him off. 
"Whatever. But don't you agree?"
He appears to mull it over, sipping his coffee for a long moment before eventually sighing. 
"I do," he nods slowly. "But I also think…you got a right to protect your peace. Lettin' her in means exposin' yourself to all the shit that might come with that."
You bite your lip and nod. You know that. You know he's right. You know it might blow up in your face to try to repair that relationship. But some little voice in the back of your head keeps telling you to do it anyway. A cloying, aching need to just…put things back in place.
"I guess I'm just tired of feeling so angry all the time," you confess. "I'm just…walking around with all this unresolved bullshit hanging over me and it's…I mean, it's exhausting. I didn't realize how exhausted I was until I saw Heather, you know? If I potentially have the power to do something about that, then I think…I think I should."
Joel smiles, his sweet brown eyes crinkling at the edges. 
"Then I'm with you, baby," he says, reaching across the table to cover one of your hands with his own. "Whatever you gotta do."
You nod resolutely, spurred on, as ever, by his unwavering support.
-
On Sunday, it rains.
Heavy showers pelt against Joel's windshield, his truck parked in the driveway of your parents' home. A quick text to your mom the day before had confirmed she'd be home around this time and that she'd be more than okay with you stopping by for an afternoon coffee. Unlike when you'd sat outside the cafe in this same truck a week ago, you don't feel nervous to see your mother. Instead, you feel a strange sense of duty and an unflappable air of confidence. All you have to do is show off how happy Joel makes you for a couple of hours. What could possibly be easier than that? 
Plus, you're not really worried about your mother coming at you with any kind of outward disdain. She can be oddly cordial when she thinks someone is mad at her.
"I'll stay close by," Joel tells you. "Take you home when you're done."
You frown. "What? You don't have to wait for me, that's silly."
Joel just shrugs. "Ain't no thing. Don't want you takin' the bus in this weather."
And Joel thinks you're too good. 
"I wish you could just come in with me."
It had been the only stipulation your mother had outlined, or at least that's how you'd interpreted her text asking, It's just you coming, right?
You'd burned with rage at that, typed out an entire message in Joel's defense, but he had insisted it was fine. One thing at a time. He could sit this one out. 
"Next time," he murmurs, leaning across the centre console to kiss your cheek. 
"Yeah," you nod. 
He wishes you good luck, offering you a goodbye kiss before you're pulling your hood up over your head and bounding through the downpour to the front door. Your mother is pulling it open before you've even stepped onto the welcome mat. 
"Quick, quick, come on," she hastens you with a hand around your shoulders, guiding you inside and out of the pouring rain. You catch her look back at Joel pulling out of the driveway before she's closing the door behind you both. 
"Oh, shoot, look at you," she tuts, prodding at the wet fabric of your hoodie. "Let me get you something else to wear–"
"It's fine, mom," you insist before she can go pulling you something hideous from her closet. You pull your damp sweater up over your head so you're in just your t-shirt, noting that hardly any of the rainwater had managed to leak through. "This is fine, see?"
"Alright," she smiles, sort of shyly. You've been apart so long, and it normally doesn't feel so weird falling back into that mother-daughter routine. Extenuating circumstances, you suppose. She glances down at the hoodie in your arms.
"Do you want to hang it up in the bathroom and let it dry? I'll get some coffee going."
You return her smile as best you can. It certainly sounds like she's trying. It certainly sounds like something a mother would say. 
"Yeah, sure," you nod, already skirting around her to your way down the front hall. "Thanks."
You vaguely hear her hum something in response as she makes her way to the kitchen. 
The main-floor bathroom is just down the hall, a renovation project that's been half-in-the-works for years, basically abandoned now that your parents almost exclusively use their en suite. Maybe they'd have finished it by now if you still lived here.
You flip the light on to find it looks much the same as it did the last time you were here; tiles partially laid, sink without a hot water knob. You carefully drape your hoodie up on the shower curtain rod still noticeably lacking a shower curtain.
You're flattening out the sleeves when you hear the doorbell chime. 
Having grown up here, you respond instinctively to the familiar melody, poking your head out of the bathroom just in time to see your mother beat you to the door. She swings it open, and there on the front porch, soaked from his head to his shoulders, is Joel. 
Your heart just about stops.
"Oh," your mother greets him, uncertainly looking back over her shoulder to where you're standing wide-eyed in the hallway. 
"'Lo, ma'am,” Joel says. From here, you can barely hear him over the rain outside. "I don't mean to intrude. Just wanted to leave this."
You frown as he holds something out to your mother, something you can't see from this angle.  
"Oh," she says again, sounding theatrically surprised. You roll your eyes. 
"She left it in the truck. Just thought she might need it. That's all. I'll get outta your hair now."
He catches your eye over her shoulder then, quickly shooting you a sweet, heart-breaking smirk that makes your chest swell. 
"Thank you, Joel," your mother says. "I'll, uh, make sure she gets it."
He smiles at her politely and offers her a parting wave, taking off at the same time she begins to close the door after him.
"What is it? What was that?" you ask, hurriedly emerging from the hallway to meet her in the entryway. 
"Your umbrella," she tells you, hanging it up on a coat hook. "That was nice of him."
She says it absentmindedly as she makes her back to the kitchen, this time with you in tow. 
Huh.
"Well, he's a really nice man," you say simply, leaning your elbows on the island while she tends to the coffee pot. 
"Hm," she nods.
She busies herself, deep in thought in a way that makes you uneasy. 
"What?" you press her.
She pours you a mug of coffee, preparing it just how you like with cream and sugar–the same way you've taken it for years. She hands it to you over the countertop, brows still furrowed together in apparent confusion. 
"He drove you here?"
You frown. "Yes?"
"Kind of a far drive in the rain."
"So?"
She ignores you.
"What's he doing while you're here?"
You're struggling to follow her train of thought. But you think maybe you know what she's getting at. Why she can't understand Joel doing something so selfless, why she probably can't seem to understand you and Joel at all.
The thing about your mother is that there always needs to be something in it for her. Every favour, every helping hand; it can never be truly inconvenient for her, and it must always somehow benefit her in return. You know of people out there with mothers who are truly selfless, mothers who are there for them, mothers who would drop everything at a moment's notice if their children so much as asked.
But that is not your mother. That has never been your mother.
You'd forgiven her for that long ago, convinced yourself it had just made you that much more independent, that much more self-reliant. And it did, but at a cost. That cost being someone in your life you could always safely count on, someone you could always trust to be there when you needed them.
Someone who would drive you in the pouring rain to a house he could not enter, just so he could wait for you outside and bring you home when you were ready. 
"I don't know," you tell her honestly. "He just said he'd stay close by and that he'd pick me up when we're done."
She's still frowning, seemingly perplexed at the notion. "He's just waiting out there in his truck?"
You shrug. "I told you, mom. He's a really nice man."
"Hm," she says again, staring down at her coffee and taking a long, contemplative sip. "I guess he is."
You grin. It's not much. It's hardly anything at all, really. But it's a start. A seed you're more than willing to water in the hopes that eventually, maybe, she'll come around.
-
A/N CONT'D: thank you for reading! and now...a special sneak peek of the upcoming summer season. continue reading for the first 500 words of the next and final chapter of your summer dream. i love you all.
chapter vibes:
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Sometimes life really feels like a dream. 
Even in the monotony, even in the mundane. The morning commutes and the tins of cat food, the Sunday afternoons spent cleaning and the Tuesday nights spent falling asleep on the couch. And it's funny, how just like a dream, you move through the days as though time means nothing at all, everything blurring together until all at once, a year has passed. 
Summer blooms, softens and warms you from the inside out. The fan beside the bed blows cool air against your clammy skin, but is no match for the heat between your legs, the overwhelming sensation of Joel's mouth fused wetly over your cunt. 
He drinks you down like you're his morning coffee, ravenous and greedy as he hooks your legs over his shoulders and snakes his arms around your thighs. But he is in no rush, languid in the way he makes out with your pussy, whimpering and groaning at every soft, needy moan he manages to draw from you. 
But then you claw at his scalp, tug on those gorgeous greying curls and whine. Joel smirks.
"Impatient," he mutters. 
He's been lapping lazily at your cunt for the better part of twenty minutes now. You are not impatient. Luckily, as you've come to discover, Joel will never tell you no unless you ask him to. 
"S'alright," he whispers, barely letting his lips leave you as he sinks two thick fingers into your core. You keen at the welcome stretch, and Joel purrs between your thighs. "Yeah, there she is. There's my fuckin' girl. You want me to make this little pussy come? Never can just wait, can ya?"
"Waited–long enough," you groan weakly as he nudges at that perfect spot inside you. "Please. I've been good."
You feel him smile again before he's pressing a chaste little kiss to your clit, his moustache tickling your skin.
"Yeah, you have," he breathes, and then he gets to work. 
His tongue moves in tandem with his fingers, expertly finding a familiar rhythm he knows like the back of his hand by now. In no time at all, warmth pools down your spine and settles in your tummy, courses rapidly through your veins and tenses all your muscles. You come with dazzling force, grinding your clit onto his willing tongue with that insistent fist still tangled in this hair. Joel loves that. 
In these moments, the dream comes alive. The mundanity of every-day life splits open and you realize, there is in fact nothing monotonous about this life at all. How could there be? Joel is here–Joel is still here. A year since you first shook his hand in an airport parking lot, a year in which it feels as though everything changed; through it all, Joel remains. Like a tulip in soil, perennial.
"Wanna take you away somewhere," he rasps as he climbs up your body to kiss and nip at the side of your face. "What do you think? Wanna come away with me?"
You're not sure if he means forever or a day.
"Yes, please," you tell him either way. 
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valeskafics · 2 days
Text
"In(toxic)ated" - Rafe Cameron x Reader
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a/n: from an anon request for reader who enjoys rafe's toxicity combined w/ rafe and reader making each other jealous requested by @diiickbrainn made girly pop a bit toxic too hehehe 🩷
Summary: If love is supposed to make you crazy, then you and Rafe are definitely doing it right.
Word Count: 3,000
Rating: 18+, MDNI
TW: afab reader, she/her pronouns, profanity, innuendo, jealousy, toxic relationship, physical violence (not against reader), they both high key kinda psycho, dom!rafe fighting dom!reader RIP, reader gets dommed, edging, choking, spanking, pussy slapping, p in v sex, unprotected sex, creampie, light bondage, hair pulling, daddy kink
Disclaimer: I do not own any of the Outer Banks characters nor do I claim to own them. I do not own any of the images used nor do I claim to own them.
Comments, likes, and reblogs are never required but are immensely appreciated 🩷
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By the time Rafe gets to school, he’s already in a pissy mood. He sees you standing at the end of the hallway, chatting away to your best friend, Scarlet, and his younger sister, Sarah, as if you don’t have a care in the world. As if you didn’t just fucking blow him off over text. He runs a hand over his face, trying his best to calm himself, before walking over to you. His bad mood is abated a bit by how fucking good you look today in that uniform skirt, the one he knows you had hemmed so that it could show off those fucking thighs of yours. Shit, he hates getting horny in the morning.
He walks over to stand beside you, giving you a charming grin, “So what’s up with not answering my texts?”
“I was busy,” you reply airily, slamming your locker shut.
“Busy with what? Not with me, that’s for damn sure,” Rafe frowns, Scarlet and Sarah deciding to make themselves scarce, not wanting to be on the frontlines for another one of your fights, “The fuck were you ‘busy’ with?” He demands, using air quotes, which just pisses you off even more, “Too busy to text me back? Be for real.”
“I don’t know, you know who you should text? Elena,” you retort, flipping your hair over your shoulder and turning to walk away, “You two seemed really fucking friendly in chem yesterday.”
He stares at you incredulously, grabbing you by the wrist and pulling you in toward him. Rafe grips your chin between his thumb and forefinger, forcing you to look him in the eyes.
“You really think I give a shit about Elena? Who am I in love with, Princess? Answer me that.”
“Yourself.”
Rafe clenches his jaw, visibly annoyed at your sassy demeanor this morning, “Don’t be a fuckin’ smart-ass, Princess.”
“Whatever, Rafe,” you roll your eyes, “Can you, like, move? I have to get to econ.”
“Uh, no, sweetheart, I can’t move.” He shakes his head, “You just don’t fuckin’ get it, do you?” His hands move to the hem of your skirt, ghosting along the soft skin of your thigh, “You think all I care about is myself? You think I don’t notice every little thing about you, baby?”
You try turning your face away in annoyance only for him to grip your jaw in his hands and force you to face him again. As much as you hate to admit it, the whole thing is kind of turning you on. You love when he gets bossy like this. You give him a petulant look, wanting to make the moment last a while longer.
“You know how cute you are when you pout?” He coos, almost mockingly, “Makes me think about how pretty your lips look when they’re wrapped around my dick. You know you’re the only one I got eyes for, pretty girl.”
“I don’t like how close she sits to you,” you finally relent and mumble, crossing your arms, “You’re mine.” You gaze up at him, batting your long lashes that frame your doe eyes, making him melt at the sight, “Just don’t talk to her anymore?”
“It’s not like I talk to her for fun, only when we have to do shit for chem. But you’re my princess and I’ll do anything you want,” he chuckles.
You beam up at him, pecking him on the lips, “Thank you, babe.”
“Yeah, yeah, just quit being such a brat,” he nuzzles his nose against yours, pressing a kiss to your forehead as the two of you begin walking toward your classroom.
The crowd in the hallway parts, making way for the self-proclaimed King and Queen of Kildare Academy. And the two of you just soak it in as you walk, your heads held high, hand in hand. The looks of envy on your fellow student’s faces are unmistakable as you pass.
“You love it when I’m a brat.”
Well, he can’t deny that. He does love it.
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Rafe comes to walk you to trig, one of the two classes you share along with chem. You take your usual seats at the back of the classroom, Rafe pulling your desk closer to his. You cross your legs, your foot resting against his calf, and lean against his shoulder, waiting for class to begin. Of course, the peaceful moment doesn’t last long, considering Rafe grows irate with jealousy when the kid who sits in front of you, Toby, turns around to smile at you when passing back your quiz.
“The fuck are you smiling at her for, nerd?” Rafe demands.
“Rafe, what the fuck?” You hiss, “What is wrong with you?”
“He was checking you out! And you were letting him!”
“You’re literally insane,” you shake your head, “He smiled at me.”
“No, he smiled at your tits. Why are you fuckin’ defending him? You think he’s hot or something?”
“No, I don’t think he’s hot,” you whisper, trying to remain quiet so as not to hurt Toby’s feelings, “Jesus, Rafe, he’s not my type! What do you think he’s going to do? Calculus on my pussy or something? Be for fucking real.”
Rafe wants to crack a smile at your words, but holds himself back, “Stop talking to him.”
“He does my trig homework. No.”
“Well, he can stop. You’re so smart, baby, smart enough to do it yourself.”
“If I can have someone do it for me,” you say slowly, as if you’re speaking to a small child, “Why would I do it myself?”
Rafe narrows his eyes and crosses his arms. Fuck, he looks good with his shirt sleeves rolled up like that, but you do your best to ignore it, focusing on leafing through your binder to find your homework. He leans in close to you, the smell of his cologne filling your senses. Stupid dick.
“You can do anything yourself. You don’t need a man to do it for you.”
You scoff slightly, “You literally are always telling me ‘don’t worry, Princess, Daddy will take care of that for you’. Make it make sense, Rafe.”
He scowls, grabbing your nose, pinching slightly, ignoring your whines of protest, “That’s different. I’m your boyfriend. I’m supposed to take care of you n’ shit. Now stop arguing with me.”
“Owwwww, Rafe!”
He snickers at the nasally tone of your voice, finally letting go of your nose to ruffle your hair, earning another frown from you, “That’s what you get for talking back to Daddy, Princess.”
Rafe watches with affection as you open your compact and immediately begin fixing your hair, retouching your makeup and lip gloss. He rests his cheek on his palm, content to ignore the teacher lecturing at the front of the classroom and just keep looking at you. Does he find it slightly annoying that you’re not paying attention to him? Yes. More than slightly, really. But he can fix that.
“Hey,” he whispers, nudging you, “Guess what?”
“Hm?”
“I blocked Elena on Insta just now,” he says proudly, waiting for your praise, every bit a puppy looking to get scratched behind the ear by its owner.
“Good job, babe,” you reply, barely giving him a second glance as you continue writing your notes.
Rafe pouts slightly, and if you’d seen it, you might’ve even felt a bit sorry for him, “Can I get a thank you or something? You don’t sound very appreciative.”
You turn to face him, your tone biting, “Thank you, babe, for blocking the bitch whose follow request you shouldn’t have fucking accepted in the first place. Well done.”
Shaking his head, he lets out a huff before giving you a rueful smile, “You’re fuckin’ sassy today, baby. Maybe I’ll just have to punish you for it tonight. Spank that cute little ass and remind you who the boss is around here.” Rafe pauses, glancing around before leaning in, his breath hot against your neck, “I could even do it here at school. Drag you into one of the empty classrooms. Fuck you nice n’ slow till you’re creaming all over my cock and learn not to be so rude to Daddy.”
Though his words make a shiver go up and down your spine, you’re too determined to remain pissed off to let it show, “I’m not being fucking rude,” you hiss, crossing your arms, “God. Do you realize how lucky you are to be dating me? All the guys at this school would kill just for a chance with me. You should know that.”
“And I’d kill them for fuckin’ looking at you,” he replies, “And just so you know? If you were to leave me, which you won’t, I’d have a line of bitches begging to go out with me.”
“Oh, would you?” You smile at him, sickeningly sweet before letting your lips curl back in a sneer, ripping the charm bracelet he gave you for your birthday from your wrist, tossing it in his face, “Then go date one of them!”
Rafe sits there for a moment in complete shock before shaking his head, “Fine? You wanna be a brat? We’re done.”
“Okay,” you shrug, grabbing your backpack and strutting off toward the door to the classroom, “Bye.”
He’s completely frozen for a moment before rushing after you into the hallway, all of your fellow students watching your third breakup so far this school year play out, “Hey! Don’t you walk away from me like that! Get that cute little ass back here!” You ignore him, continuing to walk, going out toward the student parking lot. Rafe manages to grab your hand, turning you to face him, “You’re not walking away from me right now, baby. You’re mine and you’re gonna listen to what I’ve gotta say. Throwing tantrums and breaking up with me over nothing? What’s got you acting so crazy, huh?”
“Oh, so now I’m crazy?” You laugh, glaring up at him. Rafe can’t help but think how adorable you are when you try to talk tough, “Suck my ass, Rafe!”
He watches as you get into your car and drive away, your tires screeching on the asphalt as you lift your middle finger high in the air and leave him in the dust.
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Rafe wonders if you’re going to show up to his party tonight or not. This is the longest a breakup between the two of you has lasted, and he’s not sure if you meant it for real this time. He keeps that Chanel charm bracelet in his pocket, standing in a circle with a few of the other seniors, including none other than Elena. Is it petty of him? Yes. Extremely petty. But he knows that’s what he has to do to get your attention.
You walk in, making sure to wear your hottest dress, your strappiest heels, both of which were presents from Rafe of course, your hair pulled back to highlight the immaculate job you’ve done with your makeup. Your dress is black with parts of it cut out to show off your arms, your stomach, your cleavage, and of course, your legs. You walk into Tanneyhill as if you own the place, brushing past Rafe, slamming your shoulder against Elena’s, making her spill her drink. You smirk to yourself, seeing Scarlet waving you over.
Rafe calls after you, “Hey! Where are you going? I was waiting for you!”
You turn toward him, sneering slightly as you give Elena a sidelong glare, “Really? Doesn’t seem like you were waiting around. What happened to only talking to her for class? But whatever,” you give him a false smile, “I don’t own you. You can do whatever you want. We’re not even dating anymore.”
His jaw drops as he watches you saunter off to your friends, Sarah shooting him an awkward smile and a wave. He lets out a hiss of annoyance when he sees one of Scarlet’s friends chatting you up. You’re looking up at him, running your hand along his forearm with those pretty manicured fingers, batting those long lashes and giggling at everything he says. Before Rafe even knows what he’s doing, he’s puffing his chest out, storming over to where your group stands.
“You think flirting with my girlfriend is fucking funny, huh?” Rafe demands, shoving the guy away from you, “You think touching her like that is okay? The fuck is your name, bitch?”
“Babe, stop-” You let out a yelp of surprise as Rafe’s fist goes flying, straight into your new friend’s nose, “Rafe! Oh my God!”
Rafe ignores your squeal of protest, throwing punches, looking ready to kill. Looking like he’s enjoying it. Topper and Kelce try to pull him away, but to no avail. He keeps wailing on the poor guy, no doubt breaking his nose. And you? You just watch, biting your lip to hide the smile that spreads across your face. Rafe knows you love this. When he’s willing to fight for you, when he’s willing to get those knuckles all bruised and bloody to keep you with him, to show everyone who you belong to.
When he’s finally satisfied with the damage he’s done, you walk toward him, gently taking his hand, intertwining your fingers with his, “Let’s go to your room and fix you up, yeah?”
He nods, spitting at his rival before allowing you to lead him away.
Rafe smirks at you as you clean the cuts on his knuckles, his eyes darkened with lust, nostrils flaring slightly, “You do this on purpose. Turns you on when I go rage mode. You little psycho.”
You shrug and giggle as he pulls you into his lap, wrapping your arms around his neck, “What can I say? You just look so sexy when you’re mad.”
Before you know it, the two of you are locked in a fiery kiss, your teeth clashing as you fight each other for dominance. His hands slide under your dress, groping at your ass, your thighs, any bit of flesh he can get his hands on while you tug at his hair, nails raking along his scalp, smirking as he moans into your mouth. You push Rafe down on the bed, straddling his waist, grinding your hips against him, your lacy panties against the rough denim fabric of his jeans. You moan, moving your hips faster and faster, grinding harder and harder, your fingers twisting in his shirt. Rafe lets out a growl of annoyance and flips the two of you over so that you lay beneath him, his hand reaching for the Chanel ribbon you left in his room the last time you came over, the one that had wrapped the very charm bracelet you threw at him earlier today. Only now? They’re tying your wrists together above your head.
“Such a little fucking brat,” he snarls, “You need Daddy to remind you what happens when you talk back, huh?”
You let out a low moan as he flips you onto your stomach, lifting your dress just enough to land a series of slaps against your ass. You bury your face in his pillow, whining his name, pressing your thighs together, seeking the friction you so desperately crave. But Rafe won’t let you do that. He nudges your thighs apart and tugs your panties down, landing a slap right against your wet folds, making you throw your head back and cry out his name. You struggle against the way he’s tied your hands together, wanting to reach out for him.
But he’s won this battle. He’s in charge right now. You feel him palming at the flesh of your ass, his cock pressed against you as he slowly slides inside, a low groan escaping his lips at the feeling of your pussy squeezing around him. He lands another smack against you, admiring the subtle jiggle of your flesh, the way your body tenses around him, squeezing him so tight. And then, he moves to grab your throat, fucking into you like he hates you. His long, fat cock fucks into you so deep that you’re sure if you were on your back, he’d be pressing down against it, watching you squeal. But right now? He just wants to tug at your hair, choke you, whispering filthy words in your ear.
“This fucking pussy is all mine, Princess,” he growls, each thrust deeper and harsher, your climax quickly approaching, your walls fluttering around him, “You’re mine. You’re all fucking mine and no one can have you except me. Not ever. You’re mine. Say it.”
“I’m yours, Rafe,” you sob, holding onto the pillow for support, “All yours, Daddy. Please, need to come so bad…”
And just as you’re about to, he pulls out of you. Before you can protest, he flips you onto your back, lifting one of your knees over his shoulder and fucking into you even deeper. Your eyes roll back, toes curling as he continues to restrict your airflow, vision dancing with dark spots, getting closer and closer and closer until finally? You reach your peak, white hot pleasure shooting through your entire body, your mind barely registering the fact that Rafe has decided to cum inside you, filling your pussy, his eyes dancing with delight as he watches it leak out, his fingers moving quickly to push his cum back in, snickering to himself at the way you whine his name.
Rafe then collapses on the bed beside you, reaching out for his jean pocket. He undoes the ribbon around your hand and places your bracelet on your wrist once again, pressing a kiss to every one of your fingertips.
“I love you,” he says seriously, staring you straight in the eyes, his hand resting on your cheek, “And only you. Don’t you ever fucking forget that, baby. And don’t you ever try to fuckin’ leave me again. Cuz I might just tie you to this bed and keep you here forever.
Your eyes dance with mirth as you reply, “Promise?”
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496 notes · View notes
ellecdc · 2 days
Note
hello love! I just, like, devoured all your writings today and idk if your requests are open, but I really like seer!reader and I was wondering if I could request one with poly!marauders where reader is a slytherin and she has a vision of befriending them or being in a relationship with them?
I’d imagined she thinks it’s a silly vision at first but the more she sees the boys (as she’s friends with Regulus so is bound to run into them with him), the visions occur more and more until she finally has an official interaction with them and officially meets them.
Idk if that’s too complicated/confusing, if so, you don’t have to write it obviously 😅.
I love Seer reader!!! thanks for your request lovie <3
please note: my requests are currently closed as I finish exams and work through the requests that I currently have.
poly!marauders x Seer Slytherin fem!reader who Sees a relationship with them
“Tell me again why I have to sit at the Gryffindor table for lunch?” You protested as Regulus all but dragged you to the Great Hall and Barty skipped merrily-on ahead. 
“Because I have to sit at the Gryffindor table for lunch.” He answered gruffly, strengthening his hold on your arm as you faltered in your steps.
“I don’t know, babes; have you ever considered just killing him? You wouldn’t have to reconnect with your estranged brother if he was dead.” Barty offered nonchalantly. 
“For the last time, Barty, I am not killing my brother.”
“A decision we’re all suffering for, apparently.” You muttered petulantly as you entered the Great Hall; chatter and the sounds of cutlery and tableware permeating your senses.
“Don’t worry, Treasure. The faster we eat the faster we can get away.” Barty offered in consolation.
“I am not doing the heimlich on you again, Barty.” You groaned as you followed Regulus towards the wrong side of the Great Hall.
“Come on, they’re not that bad.” Regulus tried.
You and Barty both stopped to give him unimpressed glares.
“Lupin’s not that bad.” He corrected.
“Yeah, and then he ruins that by the company he keeps.” You grumble as you plopped yourself down unceremoniously at the Red and Gold table across from your three lunch dates for the day.
Listen, you were all for being a good friend, a supportive friend; you would die for Regulus Black.
You’re not sure that support extended to willingly eating lunch with Gryffindor’s. 
But Regulus was determined to mend his relationship with his brother before Sirius graduated, Barty went just about anywhere Regulus went, and apparently you were single-handedly responsible for Regulus’ general sanity when it came to his brother and Barty.
“Hello Reggie!” Sirius called quickly.
“Don’t call me that.”
“What am I supposed to call you?” His brother bit back slightly less brightly. 
“I call him sugar tits but I don’t think that’s universal.” Barty offered as he started loading up his plate.
“It’s a pleasure to see you again, Junior.” James offered cautiously.
“I bet it is, Potter.”
Sirius sighed as if he’d been dealing with the likes of toddlers all morning and not 37 seconds of Barty Crouch Junior. “The polite thing to say would be ‘it’s nice to see you too, James’.”
Barty froze with his fork half way to his mouth as he furrowed his brows at Sirius. “No it wouldn’t; it’s not polite to lie, Black.”
“I brought another friend you can try to converse with.” Regulus spat hastily.
“Pretend I’m not here; that’s what I’m doing.” You sighed as you resigned yourself to your fate.
“Well, this is off to a good start.” Remus said with a smirk as he flipped a page in his book. 
You did suppose Lupin was the least…abrasive of him and his boyfriends. You’d had a chance to get to know him last year during prefect rounds; and while you didn’t appreciate how much he let his fellow Marauders get away with, he was relatively nice. In fact, if he had been in any house other than Gryffindor, you may have given him a chance. 
His boyfriend’s, though?
You’d rather take your chances with the Giant Squid than spend your lunch hour with them.
Were they attractive? Sure. You may be contemptuous, but you weren’t blind. 
But they always seemed to be on; there was never a moment of silence with those two nearby, and you often found yourself bracing for impact whenever they were around.
“Looking as smashing as ever, L/N.” James said as he shot you a wink.
Case in point. 
“If I threw a stick, you’d leave right?” You sneered and turned towards your sandwich.
“Nice!” Barty cheered at the same time as Remus muttered “easy kitten; play nice.” 
You started to feel the familiar sensation of your consciousness being pulled elsewhere. It felt as though you were being submerged under cold water, and the neurons firing in your brain were being gently lifted and ushered towards a new reality. 
“What’s wrong dollface?” Sirius asked you earnestly.
You sucked in a shaky breath as you tried to hide the trembling in your hands. “I just don’t feel very good.” You whispered, not trusting your voice to get through a sentence without sobbing.
“Oh, my poor girl. Come here sweets.” He repositioned himself from laying on his stomach to sitting cross legged and opening his arms in invitation.
You quickly accepted his offer and curled up in his lap as he wrapped protective arms around you and began to rock you back and forth.
“You’re okay, dolly. You’re just fine.” He murmured with his lips pressed to your hair line. “D’ya wanna stay here with me and the boys tonight?”
You let out a pathetically embarrassing keening sound as you nodded quickly.
“Okay baby; consider it done.” 
You sucked in a horrified breath as your consciousness returned and you were once again assaulted by the noises of the Great Hall.
Regulus quickly caught the glass of pumpkin juice you’d just nearly toppled and was holding your wrist tightly in his hand.
You thanked the deities for his seeker reflexes and that he seemed to already know what had happened; this was a relatively routine practice between the two of you this far along in your friendship.
“You’re okay.” He offered without even sparing you a glance as he took a napkin with his free hand to clean up what little you’d spilled.
He kept your wrist in his grip; tracking your pulse as he waited for your heart rate to slow down. 
“Was it a good one!?” Barty asked excitedly, alerting you to the fact that it wasn’t just you and Regulus sitting here.
You looked up horrified to see Remus, James, and Sirius all looking at you with various levels of concerns. 
“Was what a good one?” Sirius asked bemusedly. 
Barty scoffed derisively. “She’s a Seer, Black. Fuck, you’re thick.”
“Barty.” Regulus scolded as he turned to offer you his full attention. 
“Are you really?” James asked at the same time as Regulus asked “what did you See?” 
“I have to go.” You muttered breathlessly as you grabbed your things and headed towards the exit.
“No fair! Why does she get to leave and I don’t!?” You heard Barty whine as you pushed through the doors to the courtyard. 
You were going insane, surely. This was just a bout of madness. You needed psychological help, like one of those muggle mind healers. You could not seriously be having Sights of you dating the Marauders.
“Hey L/N!” 
“Fucking hells!” You shrieked as you spun to see Remus and James approaching you, the latter having been the one to call your name.
James still had his ever present smile on his face whilst Remus approached you with slightly more caution.
“Not happy to see us?” Remus asked with a soft smirk across his face.
“I…well,”
Apparently your bumbling was particularly telling to your current mental state, if their furrowed brows and nervous glances to each other were anything to go by.
“No funny quip for us today? You’re not going to tell me that I look like something you could draw with your left hand?” James taunted.
“Go fuck yourself, Potter.” You said with half the amount of derision you’d intended.
“Why? You wanna watch him?” Remus asked.
Okay, everything you ever said about Remus being not as bad as his boyfriends?
Lies.
“For Salazar’s sake, L/N; you sure know how to pick ‘em, huh?” Avery sneered from behind you.
“Speak when you’re spoken to, fuck face.” You barked back.
Avery only scoffed in response. 
“Hanging out with Baby Black and his crazy pet that follows him around wasn’t enough; you had to sully yourself with the likes of Gryffindor’s?” Mulciber continued for him. 
“You know, I’d be mad too if I looked like someone who has fallen for every MLM scam known to mankind.” James spat; his face taking on a severity you’d never seen from the notoriously sunny-dispositioned boy.
You wondered what else you hadn’t seen from him.
You made a rather hasty and embarrassing retreat after that gave you some…inappropriate thoughts.
You’d been plagued with more Sights since then, having been avoiding them after more images of them fussing and fawning over you (and - perhaps more horrifyingly - you over them), and then out-and-out hiding from them after a particularly… steamy Sight you had.
“You cannot hide in the Slytherin common room forever, Treasure.” Barty sighed as he plopped down beside you on the couch and rested his head on your shoulder.
“Why not?”
“Because Regulus gave them the password to the common room.”
“He what!?” You shrieked as the door opened and in spilled three Gryffindors and one Slytherin. 
“There you are, angel!” James cheered as he quickly made his way towards you.
Already with the pet names!?
“Did you really think you could hide from us, dollface?” Sirius winked as he and James took the settee across from you (causing a few younger year Slytherin’s to quickly vacate the area).
“Regulus, how could you?” You seethed at your now ex-friend. 
“I’m tired of Barty bailing on me to hide out here with you. Also, I’m not a house elf and will no longer be bringing you your meals.”
You pouted at him before a surprised yelp left your lips as you were lifted up from your seat.
Remus took your place on the sofa and placed you in the space between his thighs.
“Lupin! What are you doing!?”
“Making your dreams come true, gorgeous.” Sirius answered for you.
“They’re not dreams, you absolute mumpsimus. They’re visions of the future.” Barty sneered.
“Even better then.” James continued as he now pulled a scowling Sirius into his side. “We’re starting our future together.”
“You told them!?” You asked Regulus disbelievingly.
“Well you weren’t going to.” 
“That was the point!”
“Easy there, dove.” Remus whispered into your ear, causing a shiver to rack through you as your body traitorously melted further into Remus’ embrace. 
The only way out of this was clearly going to be the death of you (via Remus’ smoothness, James’ loveliness, and Sirius’ boldness), their murders (at your hands), or stupidly drunk in love.
You weren’t sure which option was worse.
557 notes · View notes
jojikawa · 3 days
Text
Beauty and the Beast
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An event where you are a woman in the 50s trying to turn the head of your neighbor, Francis Mosses when you are stalked and pursued by his evil counterpart.
Art by ilameys
Zettai Zetsumei • Co shu Nie
Word Count: 5.7k
⚠️: DEAD DOVE DO NOT EAT ♥ Manhandling, Slight body horror descriptions, descriptions of blood, himbo!doppelgänger!Francis Mosses, Yandere Behavior, Mentions of Stalking, sexualization of the female MC by Fake Francis, SMUT(CNC, mentions of a "rape kit"), and monster cock.
I write for free, but if you wanna further support me > Ko-Fi 🎀
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Life was somewhat boring for you as a woman in the 50s. Despite being sought after by a lot of the men in your apartment complex, you had your heart set on one man. You only got to see him once a day. Francis Mosses. When he would deliver milk to your door in the morning. No matter how cute or cherry you were, it seemed like his mind was set on other things. The man always looked tired but you thought he was handsome no matter what. Maybe even more handsome…it was just something about hot men being tired that made them so much hotter.
You had hoped that eventually, he’d notice you and finally take you on a date!
But that hope soon faded when you read the newspapers. They talked about how doppelgängers are becoming a lot more frequent and the D.D.D. would be installing new units everywhere to ensure that no evil counterparts are making their way into the homes of others and killing people. You were able to tell if this made you feel safer or a lot more scared. What if someone made a mistake…?
Well, you didn’t have a chance to feel anything really, as the D.D.D. was extremely secretive about this kind of threat. After some time, it became normalized and it soon left your mind. The Doorman job seemed to be pretty effective as you had never seen any monsters before and were very much alive. It was rumored that the creatures would murder and eat any person they encountered if they succeeded in passing as humans. This is another reason you had your heart set on Francis. You felt as though he could protect you at a time like this. Maybe it was naive of you but after all, you were just a girl.
“Good Morning.”
Upon hearing the small knock at your door, you went to greet him. Francis stood tall, rather confused about you coming to get your bottled milk so quickly.
“Oh, good morning…” He replied flatly, gripping the strap of his milk bag. You thought that maybe he had a mutual crush on you and was too shy to act on it. So, you could take that step for him.
“How are you this morning? I hope that life is agreeing with you today.” You stepped outside of your apartment door with your glass of milk in hand. Francis shrugged. “I suppose it is.” He then yawned before saying “What’s wrong? Are you looking for another?”
You blinked. “Huh?” Your eyes then darted down to your hands. “O-Oh…sure.” You smiled attractively, causing him to break eye contact with you. He reached into his milk carrier and revealed and took out another. “You’re only allowed to get one every day but you can have mine.” He walked up to you and placed the bottle into your free hand.
“Th-Thanks!”
“Don’t mention it.”
After he disappeared around the corner, you were filled with joy! That interaction was such a good sign. He gave you his milk bottle. You had to make him something for dinner tonight as a gift!
Thunk!
You almost jumped at the sound of glass falling on the carpet at the far end of the hallway behind you. It looked like an empty milk bottle if you squinted hard enough. There was a shadow as well. It made you feel uneasy and quickly made you retreat into your home.
You wanted to try seeing if you could have more time with Francis. There was a job opening for the D.D.D. Doorman of your building and you instantly took it. Being able to meet with Francis when he wasn’t busy might have your conversations with him take a turn for the better. You really appreciated his selfless gesture. So, seeing him at least twice a day would make your life so much brighter. Francis was the complete package. Tall, handsome, quiet, and most of all, soft-spoken. You’d be a good wife to him.
On the first day of the job, you didn’t receive any proper training. You were given an informational video and a set of instructions that you scrambled to memorize as a long line of your neighbors awaited their inspection outside. The job was easy at first and you did it well. It was a chore but those are easy. You let in the right people and you called the D.D.D. when you found a doppelganger like you were instructed to. Unfortunately, at the end of the day, Francis didn’t pay you any mind. You gave him a soft smile through the glass before asking him about his day. 
“I hope work is treating you well.” You pitched your voice up to sound cuter. Your graceful hands moved swiftly as you sifted through the many layers of documents, trying to organize them before your next neighbor. “Yeah, I suppose.” He answered, blinking rather slowly. Your smile widened. “Any days off soon? I’d like to see you outside of your uniform.” You winked at him and he just shrugged. “Dunno.”
“Well, maybe, sometime after your hard work, you tell me a day you’d think you would be free?” 
You waited with anticipation for his response. He seemed rather confused and it was rather adorable. Then he said “I don’t really know. I think I’m busy but I’ll let you know if that changes.”
Your smile faltered just a little but you were good at faking emotions. “Oh, no worries.” You waved him off in a playful manner before pressing the button to allow him inside. Your shift ended and you thought that you should probably get to making that dinner for him as a ‘thank you’ for the free milk. As you began to clean up, the pressure of your job began to set in. This wasn’t something that you could just quit if Francis were to reject you. Ignoring all the unexplainable noises, the dark figures, and the constant feeling of being watched, it would be very awkward seeing him every day after that.
It was a new day. Francis came to check into the building and you let him go without chatting with him because you didn’t want to seem like a bother. But…then you saw him again.
“Francis?” You cutely tilted your head. The way he looked at you was much different than usual. The Francis you knew could barely make meaningful eye contact with you but right now he had no problem burning holes into your skull with his eyes. Not only that but he was visibly bigger as well. Taller and more masculine. His arms were big and veiny. This was NOT Francis Mosses.
“I-ID…?” You gave a nervous half-smile as you tried to hide your stutter. The humanoid creature gawked, a subtle sense of happiness washing over its face the longer it stayed there. “Don’t have it on me.” It replied plainly. You picked up the clipboard before exing out the box that was labeled “ID.”
“W-Well, you seem to look a lot like someone who’s already checked in. Please, give me a moment to confirm.” You flashed it a close-eyed smile. Upon seeing it, the fake Francis moved closer to the window, fogging it up with its mouth breathing.
You pressed the big red button to close the shutter before dialing the number to the D.D.D. 
The representative told you someone would be over right away to dispose of the doppelgänger. It only took about a minute before they’d arrive. Normally, the shutter would open on its own after being reset by the D.D.D. member but for some reason, it didn’t You figured that now would be a good time to open it to help the last neighbors but when you did, you were not met with the hazmat suit you were so familiar with. 
In front of you was the same fake Francis from before, now covered in some blood. His expression was one of annoyance and the veins in his arms were pulsating as if he were trying to contain some kind of anger.
“E-Excuse me, but you need to—!”
“Let me in.”
Your heart dropped. It talked! And it sounded just like Francis too. 
You shook your head. “N-No! I’m not letting a monster in.” You reached for the number to re-dial the number again.
“But I think you look so pretty today. You wore that just for me, huh? I’d love to t-tear it off of you.” The creature’s neck involuntarily cracked its neck, twisting it in a demonic way. You screamed at the sight, pressing the button once more to close the shutters so that you wouldn’t have to see it. As they went down, the doppelgänger tried to stop it by putting his hand under it. It got caught in the track, causing it to get stuck on the track and it was open halfway.
“Come on, Darling, I know you’re not about to call those bastards again. I don’t want to have to hurt anyone else.” The large man-creature crouched down. You could see his fanged canine teeth poking out of his mouth. You backed away from the window with the telephone in hand.
3312…
You listened to the dial tone for a few seconds before the receptionist answered.
“Hello?”
“P-Please send help!” You cried over the phone. Tears began to spill out of your eyes upon hearing the squeal of metal as the predator stretched and bent it to his will. The glass was the only thing left that could stop him from entering.
You saw how abnormally long his tongue was when it glided over his lips. “I just want to taste you…”
The receptionist dispatched another group of workers to help dispose of the doppelgänger. They arrived almost instantly. It was only then that the fake Francis moved away from the window. You sighed in relief, trying to calm yourself down from the events that transpired. You ran over to the tempered glass. The mental door looked like sheet paper.
You saw no trace of the Hazmat people but you also didn’t see the fake Francis anymore. You quickly gathered your things and rushed to leave. You opened the door to let yourself out. You planned to run to your room and lock the door but as soon as you had left the room, you bumped into a stiff, toned chest. The figure grabbed you by your neck and forced you to look at them. The gloved hand was covered in blood and it stained your skin and the collar of your dress.
“Where do you think you’re going, Princess?”
His grip around your throat was so tight that you weren’t able to form words. It was completely covered in blood and in its other hand was a knife dripping with blood as well. It kept the violence to one side of the room so that you weren’t able to see anything unless you completely left the screening room.
The light clank of the knife hitting the ground could be heard and its newly free hand grabbed your waist. The doppelgänger hugged you to its masculine chest. Its head rested itself on top of yours before it planted its nose in the crown of your head before inhaling your scent deeply. The blaring sound of the alarm continued to go off and it was deafening.
Your nose was overloaded with the scent of fresh blood. The pure shock didn’t let you resist his touch. His grip loosened and you dropped everything you had in your hands on the floor, staining it in with the red substance
“P-Please.”
You felt its large hand around the back of your neck and you feared that it would snap it and kill you any second. You held your breath as you felt it set the other hand on your waist as well, rubbing it gingerly.
It felt like the doppelgänger was sizing you up to see if you’d be a good enough meal for it.
“He-ey, beautiful. It's… okay…” 
The doppelgänger’s speech was somewhat disconnected but it was fluid for the most part. At first, it was clear he was a fake but the more he kept talking, the more it sounded like the real thing…like it was learning in real time.
Your heart rate accelerated when you felt its hand travel ever so slowly from your waist to the collar of your dress. The inhuman smile on its face widened and it suddenly ripped the cloth that covered your torso. You gasped, instinctively covering your now exposed bra.
You wiggled out of its grip and used the opportunity to run. You kicked off your pumps and ran barefoot to your apartment. All you could do was hope that more of the D.D.D. would come and solve the issue before anyone else could get hurt. The emergency alarm was still going off so the authorities should be there soon.
When you arrived at your door, you tried to scramble to look for your keys so that you could get inside but…
…you remembered that you dropped them along with the rest of your possessions.
The sound of heavy footsteps approaching behind you. The large shadow engulfed your smaller form.
“Allow me.” The stranger said, calmly. Their large fist went through the door handle, shattering the lock and making it completely useless. You were too shocked to try running again. It found you.
The doppelganger shoved you against the door, swinging it open and causing you to fall forward inside of your home. You hit the floor with a soft but swift thud. “I see the way you look at him.” Its voice was laced with venom—anger but left more to be desired. It was playing with you awfully long for a creature that was trying to kill you.
“But you’d never look at me that way…”
The Fake Francis entered the apartment making sure to secure the door behind it so that you couldn’t run anymore. You cried and whimpered as it took its sweet time pushing your bookcase in front of the door so no one would intervene with what was supposed to happen next.
“I-I don’t know what you’re—” You couldn’t even finish your sentence as it smashed its lips into yours. Its tongue was like that of a serpent, slipping its way into your mouth. You tried to push it away but any attempts just resulted in your lips connecting once more. It was too strong. 
You were terrified but it passed so much for the real Francis.
“Tell me you don’t like it ‘n I’ll stop.” It whispered into your mouth before it French kissed you once more. You kissed it back, unable to resist his appearance any longer. When it pulled away, a string of saliva connected between both of your mouths. It’s warm breath hits the surface of your face, eyes full of lust and horror.
It’s soft lips attached themselves to your neck, biting and sucking until your skin slowly began turning red. “Mmm.” It hummed deeply, traveling lower and lower until it reached the cavern between your breasts. “You’re sensitive here, aren’t you?” It placed kisses in the valley of your chest, waiting for a reply. You were unable to form words at this point. It wanted to ravage you and steal your innocence. It took your idleness as consent, continuing on with satisfying itself and by extension, satisfying you.
It took the delicate hand you had been using to drive a wedge between the both of you. You thought that at this point it was going to break your arm! You squeezed your eyes shut, ready to endure the pain but…it didn’t. You felt the heated bulge beneath it’s bloodied white trousers. It throbbed. 
That’s when it finally clicked for you. It wasn’t playing with you like you were food. It wasn’t trying to taste you and pick it’s teeth with your bones. It wanted to be with you. To breed you.
“I—ah~♡!” You bit down on your lip to contain the pretty moans that left your mouth. Your bra was removed, fully exposing your breasts. Its tongue touched the tip of your nipple and its mouth enveloped over your entire areola. It licked and sucked on the bud until it was nice and hard. The other hand was subtly slipped under your dress.
It took barely any strength at all to rip the fabric, showing how inappropriately wet you’d become from this activity. It craved the essence that was oozing from your tiny cunt.
At the feeling of the cold wind, you brought your legs together just to have them forced apart again. The creature made you feel so small and vulnerable. It used force when it felt necessary but overall, it was….soft. Licking, kissing, biting but no drawing blood, taste, loving.
It salivated at your legs, raising one and nuzzling the side of its face into the smooth skin. “So…gorgeous.” It pulled you forward. “When I saw you, I knew I wanted you.”
“Y-You did…?” You squeaked. It’s touch sent goosebumps from your limp to the rest of your body. “Two years I’ve been watching you. It was so damn annoying seeing you talk to that piece of meat.”
Piece of meat?
“I don’t know who you mean.” You shied away from the perfect creature. Could it mean…
“F-Francis?” You knitted your eyes together in confusion.
“Yes—HIM!” The doppelgänger dropped your leg and pulled you by your thighs to its crotch. “…I could never decide what skin would be the best to pursue you in. But then I’d see the way you look at him.” Pre-cum was beginning to show from its member inside. You could feel the wet fabric on the lips of your hot cunt. “So, I became him…but better.”
You heard the subtle unzipping sound of the pants and it took out its thick cock. It was larger than normal and didn't look like the standard male genitalia. You’d need to use both hands to hold it.
There was no denying this thing could perfectly replicate a human man. Before you could even react, the big “man” picked you up by your hair.
“Get on your knees.” He commanded and you felt obligated to obey him. You’ve never been in a situation where you were being held up by a man like this.
“I’m gonna split you in half with this cock.�� He pushed its large tip against your cheek, straining it with warm cum. “Open your mouth.”
Your lips parted for a moment but you hesitated. There was no way that whole thing could fit into your mouth. Your eyes traveled up to his for guidance. He only stared down at you with hard, tired eyes. The corner of his mouth tugged upward into a smirk.
“I said…open your mouth.”
He spoke through his teeth as if it were a threat. You were reluctant but tried to ease it in. You kissed his tip, causing him to grunt and tighten his fist around your hair. “Open.” He growled, yanking your head back. His cock was so close to your face that you could truly take in its side. It was nearly the length of your skull. 
You opened your mouth out of fear and he shoved it inside. He was kind enough to let you get used to it in your throat by going soft and slow…or maybe he was just distracted by the imprint showing on your throat. 
You grabbed his hips to keep yourself from falling backward. Even a bit of force made you lose your balance. “Good girl.” He sighed, relaxing into you, pushing the limits by pushing it deeper. Your choking and gagging only made him feel pleasure.
“You struggling with my dick in your mouth is so hot.” You heard him mutter under his breath. Your eyes began to water from the choking, causing tears to carry mascara down your cheeks.
“Keep sucking.” He fucked into your throat and gentle too. “I’m close.”
 Both of his hands found themselves on the back of your head. He sped up his pace until a loud groan emitted from his chest and a mysterious liquid found its way down your throat.
The doppelgänger let go of your hair. You fell back on your bottom and he crouched down. “Hey.” He called, grabbed both sides of your face with one hand. He squeezed your cheeks together. “Swallow.”
You swallowed what was left and once he knew it was in your belly, his lips crashed into yours. His tongue wormed its way into your mouth and explored every cavern.
You felt yourself get lifted again but this time to your feet. He walked you over to your dining table and shoved you into it. “Bend over.”
You didn’t really get a choice. When you tried to stand, he forced you down to the table with his hand on the back of your head. 
You expected him to say something, but he stayed silent. You felt him explore your backside from your hips to your exposed ass. The wind was so cold but his hands were so warm.
He chuckled darkly, spreading your ass cheeks and sticking his shaft in between. His dick was so much bigger than you that you would definitely have a belly bulge because of it. He wanted to experience it for himself.
You waited with silent anticipation for him what he would do next. You weren’t too sexually active anymore because you wanted to reserve that for the real Francis, if you ever got the chance with him, so you were really nervous about having something so big inside.
“Uah!” You squeaked, feeling a wet, warm muscle enter the deepest part of your cunt. It was his tongue!
You whipped your head around to see that his face was buried in you from behind. “Mmm.” You heard him hum vibrations into you. He consumed all of your juices as they came out. It must’ve tasted so good coming from a pretty human like you.
With every moan and whimper that left your mouth, it made his dick grow harder and harder. He didn’t stop until you had creamed all over his tongue. So much came out that it got all over his face too.
“I-Is that it? Is that what you want…?” You asked, but you were only ignored.
“Pick a hole.”
“Wh-wha—“
“Pick a hole, or I will.”
Pick…a hole…?
His large thumb massaged your asshole while his knuckles, now sleek with your cream, was stimulating your pussy.
“Um…I—“ 
“Both it is!”
Your eyes widened. “Wait, what?!”
You felt his thumb sink deep into your ass while he struggled to get his large tip into your pussy. “Damn you’re fucking tight.” He growled through his teeth. His free hand grabbed your ass, fingers sinking in so deep they’d leave marks. 
“W-Wait, you have to go slow!” You cried, face heating up from being touched in such filthy ways. “I am.” He grumbled, pushing the limits of your vagina by forcing himself inside. Despite going at the pace of a snail, the pain of trying to fit himself inside didn’t decrease at all. You helplessly clawed at the table beneath you. It didn’t matter how wet you were. He was too big.
It took a moment but he was able to get it. It slipped in with much ease on his end but the difference inside made you gasp so hard you needed to cover your mouth.
The doppelgänger began thrusting without warning, quickly overstimulating you. You could feel him in your stomach too. You reach back to push him off of you but he just grabbed your arm and kept it. There wasn’t much you could do to get someone this big off of you. You would only take it.
“P-Please…I can’t take it!” You gapped out, drool escaped your mouth as you tried to form words. He was fucking you so hard you couldn’t even think. All that could be heard around the room was the lewd slapping of his filled balls against the bottom of your pussy. 
“Beg for it then. Say you love me.” His breath hitched. “Say you want me and I’ll let you go.”
“I—“ Slap! 
You tried to speak. “I wa—“ Slap!
It seemed that when you tried to comply with him, he’d remove the hand playing with your asshole to leave a rough, skin-reddening slap on your ass. Your struggling amused him. He couldn’t help but smile.
The doppelgänger has been stalking you for so long. It was hard getting into your apartment normally because of the last doorman but he couldn’t resist you once you were sitting at that desk.
“What’s wrong?” He teased, his deep voice going soft. “My dick isn’t in your mouth anymore…so what’s the issue?” He chuckled. “Beg.”
“I want you!” You blurted out.
“You…want me? Say there’s no one else. Say you love me!” It was like music to his ears, really. It was helping him reach his climax.
“I…I love you—“
“FUCK!”
Your belly bulge quickly became bigger as his cum painted your walls and womb. Even with his dick growing more flaccid, he continued to fuck his cum into you so that you both knew who you belonged to now. Tears spilled out of your eyes as you squirted onto his cock, mixing your juices together.
“I love you too, Princess. More than you could ever imagine—“ Before he could finish, his ears perked up almost like an animal. His attention turned towards your door that he had destroyed before. “Here they come.” He muttered, putting his member back into his pants.
You weakly lifted yourself from the table. Your hand placed itself tight below your navel. It was so sore now. “Who’s coming…? What are you talking about…?”
The doppelgänger ignored you, its horns flesh and bones began contorting and changing color. Its physique turned from that of a huge masculine man to the familiar form of that of a D.D.D. member. Yellow suit and all. 
It ran to the door, opening it, and sticking its head out. “I found her, she's in here!” Its voice changed to a generic man as well. Not at all like the deep gruff from before.
Your legs felt like jelly, you fell to the ground as soon as you were able to stand. They were numb from the pleasure, leaving you unable to walk.
What happened next went by as a blur. The D.D.D. Reinforcement Team took you to a hospital where you were taken care of and given rape kit. You were unable to refuse it once the forensics team found semen at the scene. In order to maintain faith in the D.D.D., your assault was largely covered up but only those who were in the apartment that day knew about it.
After the commotion of filing our paperwork and giving information, you were sent home. You didn’t sustain any life threatening injuries but you were asked to come in periodically to see how your body would react to having the semen of a doppelgänger inside of you…so now you were a bit of a test subject to them. You quit the job after that but you were quickly replaced by a new guy. 
You hadn’t seen the doppelgänger the entire time. Or at least, you thought you didn’t. You wanted to process the situation but you were more confused as to why it craved so much validation from you. It wanted you to say you loved it. It wanted you to say that you wanted it. It said that it’s been waiting two years to be this close to you. It looked like Francis.
You had just arrived back home. Carpenters quickly replaced your door before you got home and you decided to continue life as usual by making dinner for yourself. Your heart still aches from the fear you felt when you thought you were going to die. And so did your vagina. It didn’t bleed, thank god, but it was sore to the touch from how big that monster was.
“Man, I thought you’d never come back.”
You were alone in your kitchen when a voice emitted from behind you. The familiarity in the voice made your heart drop. You quickly turned around to see the doppelgänger from before, masquerading as Francis again.
“What are you doing here? What do you—“
“Shh, princess.” He strided through your small kitchen, stepping so close to you that you were against the counter with nowhere else to go. You placed your hands on his chest, giving you the illusion that you could push him away. He grabbed your arm by the wrist before kissing the inside of your palm. He kissed your fingers and then the back of your hand before making you cup his cheek, which he nuzzled into lovingly.
You wanted to rip your hand away but his grip was so strong. You blushed. Was it wrong to admit that he…it, was attractive? 
“Why didn’t you kill me and eat me? Why did you do that to me?” You questioned meekly. His eyes were closed, enjoying your warm touch with a smile before they opened. His eyes were like hunter's eyes. “Because I love you.” He replied flatly. 
“I don’t know what that means…” 
You opened your mouth to speak again but you were cut off by a knock at your door. 
“I’ll get it.” The doppelgänger quickly said and in a mere second, it shapeshifted to turn into…you. It was able to mimic you in all your glory, including the hickeys, bites and bruises from your attack.
“No!” You blurted out. “Don’t do that.”
The doppelgänger allowed you to move away from it and your arm fell to your side. You went to get the door but you made sure to check who it was before opening.
It was Francis!
“It’s him!” You hurried to your bedroom to find your cardigan to cover your tattered clothes before answering the door.
“Francis? What brings you here?” You forced a smile but your eyes looked just as tired as his. You couldn’t hide anything from him.
“I heard what happened. ‘m so glad you’re okay.” Francis sighed, quickly invading your personal space. He hugged you to his chest. You blinked “F-Francis…?”
“I felt all torn up when I thought you died but when I heard that you were just fine, I just had to come see you myself.” Your stomach burned with delight. Francis was worried about you?
Francis let go of you and you pulled away. His face was red like he was blushing and you couldn’t help but blush too. Your lips curled into a smile. “W-Well, I’m a lot tougher than I look.”
He wanted to smile back but he couldn’t. He saw the marks on your skin. You were hurt. “I know you are.” He masked his sadness with a weak smile. He rested his hand on your head and ruffled it a bit.
It would probably be inappropriate for him to admit that he’s actually had feelings for you all this time, so he’d save it for another day. Hearing the news about the doppelgänger through gossip during his job of going door to door made him realize he could lose you at any moment. But today, he settled with placing a kiss at the crown of your head. “Stay safe. I’ll check on you again later.”
For a moment, everything in your life went still. Even after he had walked away and left you standing there, it didn’t feel real. This more or less confirmed he had a crush on you as well. No man just does that and doesn’t see you as more than just a neighbor.
Your heart fluttered as you came back to reality. You slipped back inside of your home. You need to get cleaned up! You had to bathe and find something suitable just in case Francis wanted to come inside upon your next meeting.
But then….
“You look awfully happy.”
The doppelgänger was still here. You gulped, seeing his much bigger form. He grabbed the sides of your face with his hand again. He didn’t bother crouching because of your size difference, leaving you standing on the tips of your toes.
You were too shocked to try defending yourself, so he continued. “I saw everything so don’t even try to lie. That bastard is so lucky that I have to lay low until the D.D.D. gets their claws out of you or else I would’ve…”
“Don’t hurt him!” You tried to beat and punch his arm to get him off but he didn’t budge. “Why not?!”
“Because…I’ll be sad. And you don’t want me to be sad, do you?” Your voice was unlabeled and lacked confidence. It was a Hail Mary but you’d do anything to prevent Francis from getting hurt.
“Shit.” The doppelgänger let go of you, setting you back on your feet. It seemed…conflicted. He paced around your living room briefly. It had a soft spot for you but you could tell it has trouble processing emotions like a person. It was just imitating a person to get what it wanted.
“You don’t want him. You just wanna marry a guy. I’ll marry you.” 
You shook your head. “No. Y-You can’t. You’re not him.”
“Of course I am.” His expression became mischievous. A smirk settled on his handsome face. “You can even call me Francis in bed if it fancies you.” 
You felt your stomach do a flip!
“No! I’m not calling you that. Even though you look just like him…wh-what do I call you anyway…?” You retreated inward, hugging yourself and looking quite nervous as if the situation was beginning to dawn on you. You were currently desired by one of the most dangerous beings in the world.
“Francis.”
“Stop! I’m never using that name for you.” You got angry enough to shove him but he didn’t move an inch. You quickly realized that you shouldn’t push too hard or else it might change its mind and kill you. 
“Mmm….” You pursed your lips, avoiding eye contact with the monster. “Wh-What about Franz? Is that good enough for you…?”
Franz, huh?
“Perfect.”
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Tagged Folks: @z3r0art @chilifrylizard2
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Carlos being obsessed with readers baby bumppp 🫶🫶
Cw: reader is pregnant
"There are my girls", Carlos said as you stepped into the hospitality with his parents following you behind. The Spanish GP had a sweeter taste this year with all his family there, Carlos starting from pole and your pregnancy finally out in the world, which meant you were walking around in one of your pretty dresses, bump fully on show much to Carlos' appreciation.
"Hello, amor", you greeted him, kissing his lips and feeling his hands go straight to your bump.
"Look at you two, you look so nice!", Charles seemingly came out of nowhere behind you, "I'm filming the weekend - would you mind if I take a little clip of you?", he said.
"No worries", you nodded.
"Just so you know, Y/N, Carlos spent one of the last videos we recorded for social media talking about your baby bump, he even showed some pictures he takes weekly - it was all very cute", Charles smiled.
"You have what?", you turned to face your husband, "you always say those are just for you!".
"I couldn't help myself, your baby bump is so cute! I can't get enough!", he kissed your temple.
.
"Hey amor", you said softly as you stepped inside the bedroom, your husband smiling up at you from his spot on the bed as he tidied his bedside table.
"Cariño, I was about to go downstairs to come and get you after I got this sorted out", he stated as you gave him a small smile that didn't quite reach your eyes and made them all squinty like usual.
"Can I have a cuddle, please? The boys keep kicking me and I could really use some you time before your parents bring Clara back", you spoke.
Carlos stretched his arms, wanting to comfort you, "Come here, I would love nothing more", he offered
You smiled softly this time, laying on the bed carefully so you could face your husband after he mimicked your movements - albeit in a much more athletic and smooth way.
"You're a little far away from me", Carlos chuckled as he rubbed your bump, feeling the little kicks, "I can't believe we're almost there", he mumbled.
"You tell me, I just wanted to be close to you but these guys want to get to your first - it's all fun and nice when you marry the tall, handsome Spanish man, but when it comes to having his kids? Especially two of them? No one tells you about that", you giggled.
"It's so round", Carlos said as he rubbed around your belly button, feeling the boys soothe down with their legs, "and you're doing it so well, you look so beautiful, every day", he kissed your forehead before he wiggled around a little more, finding a way to hold you closer to him.
"This is perfect, thank you", you whispered as you felt as enveloped in his embrace as you possibly could.
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hazelfoureyes · 3 days
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⟢Alastor x Cupid FemReader Tasked with making a demon believe in true love or you can’t return to heaven, things immediately go off the rails when you hurt yourself and Alastor catches one of your most troubling arrows; Mania
˚₊ · »-♡→ Week 1 and Week 2
˚₊ · »-♡→Week 3 and Week 4 smut💦 (keep reading)
Alastor lets you leave the hotel! Together! For soup. Later, your plans to make Alastor lose his obsession backfire. But like, in a hot way so you’re not that mad about it. A+ for effort?
˚₊ · »-♡→Week 5, Week 6, Week 7, and Epilogue smut💦
「warnings/promises: smut, I once again misuse a fucking prayer in a sacrilegious way, soup, spoon feeding, Angel texts, so much cum, bondage, tentacles, just good ole fashion fucking in the radio station, not quite dubcon but Alastor doesn’t really listen, hell has twitter and lets be real it’s just normal twitter, giant Alastor, Horse Luci」
Minors DNI ♥️ 🧹lovingly
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You finally managed to leave the hotel. It was of course with Alastor at your side, microphone pressing into the small of your back like a third arm. It was as if he worried you’d just turn around and run.
He opened every door, pulled out your chair, and when your left hand shook and dropped your food he took on the task of feeding you. It was embarrassing, to say the very least. The sinners in the restaurant staring, a brave few filming or typing furiously on their phones.
You got a buzz on your own cell, a gift from Angel when he realized Alastor wouldn’t let you speak with others alone. 
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He texted a link to a post on some hell site, to a photo of you right then, at that exact moment, being spoon fed by the radio demon. You considered smashing your head into the table until you blacked out. If you got up and left would you make it back to the hotel before someone realized you weren’t a sinner? You were absolutely terrified of someone noticing you as heaven sent.
Heaven kicked? Heaven thrown. Yeah that one felt right.
“You need to eat. You can’t heal like this.” Alastor sounded concerned, but you fought the urge to care. 
He hadn’t apologized to Husk, but Husk did say Alastor seemed to avoid eye contact which was basically a gift to him. Alastor had come to your room to dress you the next day as he always did, neither of you mentioning the day before. The hall was magically pristine by the time you left.
A tiny sliver of you thought he felt embarrassed. But decades of experience told you that Mania didn’t afford embarrassment, the stricken couldn’t be truly manic if something like that was holding them back.
Maybe it had been such a shallow cut he hadn’t gotten the full punch of Mania?
Another attempt to feed yourself, slowly bringing your spoon to your mouth, “You know when I heal I am going to finish my task and leave, right?” 
An odd laugh, a non-existent tear wiped away, “Adorable. No. I promise you, that won’t happen.”
“Alastor.” You put the spoon down with a clink.
“I love when you say my name. May I offer you more reasons to hold it in your mouth?”
“Al-,” you groaned, “I can’t stay forever.”
He hummed, a show of pretending to think about what you said, “Wrong! You can. And I argue, you will.”
You tried again with the spoon, regretting soup. Your appetite had been shot for awhile and it seemed easy enough. Wrong. Again. There was a constant tremble to your hands since arriving. Perhaps experiencing pain for the first time was rattling your body so much that it couldn’t cope. “Why would I ever do that? This is literal hell.”
Alastor leaned over, taking the spoon from you with ease and bringing it to your mouth, “Because I’ll make you understand it’s where you belong. They didn’t appreciate you,” his grin widened, “Not like I do. Like I can, if you’d let me.”
Annoyed and flustered, you took the help to eat. “Thank you.” A spoonful, “How can you say that though? I’m the one and only Cupid.”
“Actually, no. You’re not. You are just the current incarnation. They’ll replace you.” 
You regretted telling him that. They could. Just replace you, that is. There was nothing stopping them. You stared into your soup, lips curling down.
“Don’t look so defeated. I’ll make you happy, for eternity.” 
Your eyes rolled. “When do you plan on starting that eternal happiness?”
You didn’t look at him when you said it, but you could see his hand slow, then become completely still. Had you wounded him?
He pivoted, “Doesn’t Cupid have wings?”
Another spoonful, “Of course.”
Alastor waited while you took a drink, determined to make you eat the entire bowl, “Where are they?”
A pause. Where were they? You hadn’t realized you couldn’t feel them. They weren’t everpresent, but their weight still sat between your shoulder blades at all times. Always. Normally. But now? 
“You don’t know? That’s troubling.” Alastor read your face with ease.
You shot him a look. Stop doing that. Stop replying to unspoken thoughts.
“Apologies.”
Another text before you could snap at him.
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You slid the phone away from Alastor, face red. “Do you think, honestly, if you’re capable of it, that I’ll ever be able to go home?”
His hand came to your neck, running over your collarbone, “For the record, I’ve never once lied to you.” You rolled your eyes, fine, okay, “With your heavenly body, even as weakened as you have been here, I’d say just a few more weeks.”
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You turned the phone face down.
“Good…that’s good. If you plan on winning me over, your countdown has started.” You pushed the soup away, appetite gone. The idea of never returning to heaven made you nauseous. He slid it back to you, face stern despite the smile he wore.
The walk home was quiet, your stomach full of unwanted soup.
No, not home. The hotel. 
He usually spoke a lot, clearly loving the sound of his own voice. His hand replaced the staff, settled on your back as he guided you. You could feel the warmth through your clothes. How could he be so hot and not be sweating? Another sinner thing?
The thought hadn’t left you by the time you came into view of the hotel gates. Maybe you had been replaced. How would you know? Maybe that was why your wings were gone. Surely there was some way to communicate from hell.
You found Lucifer as soon as you returned, unbothered by Alastor’s presence, “I need to speak to heaven.” 
Alastor was saying something but you had gotten quite good at tuning him out. Lucifer snapped back, the men quickly devolving into arguing again.
“Lucifer.” You said it with your chest. 
His apple topped cane whirled, a golden circle appearing with a crystal clear image of heaven’s glowing gates through its center.
A loud noise erupted behind you, a high pitched static wail, familiar tentacles flailed and a long shadow of a growing Alastor stretched across the wall. His back was bent into the lobby ceiling, perhaps three stories tall now.
The sounds of magic popping as Lucifer shapeshifted accented the sounds of horror with that of whimsy. You approached the portal, those black tendrils slithering around your ankles but you easily slipped out of them as their owner's energy was pulled to full demon Lucifer slamming into him.
Almost, you could see it. 
A monstrously large hand came down, shaking the hotel and knocking various objects off their perches in the lobby. Charlie and Vaggie, someone else you’d come to enjoy the company of, flew down the stairs.
The common area was filled with the sounds of yelling and breaking glass. You crawled over his hand as Alastor’s fingers curled around your body gingerly. He tried to pull you from the gateway but while he slowed, Lucifer now a flying horse kicking him in the face, your outstretched hand strained to enter the portal.
Your fingers grazed the doorway, the air around the lobby fizzing and warping as a desperate screech tore from Alastor’s wide and impossibly thin chest. The grip tightened around you. A static whine threatened to pop your eardrums.
As your fingertips pressed past the ring, they stopped. Something impenetrable and unseen between you and heaven. 
Alastor must have noticed it too, his grip loosening as you clamored on hand and knees to the portal. Your palm ran over the doorway, searching for a hole or seam to rip. Just under your skin was your home, bright and clean and painless. A tiny ‘no’ fell from your lips, smacking at the barrier with your open hand.
Alastor returned to his normal, still terrifying, height. Lucifer came forward, their fight losing motivation, his small hand on your shoulder as you sat on the hotel lobby floor. He closed the portal and apologized, “Sorry kid. Let’s try again when you finish that task, okay?”
Alastor’s arms went under your back and knees and lifted you off the ground. You didn’t resist or argue. Your eyes were unfocused, vision blurry with tears, as you were carried past the others. Vaggie looked ashamed, which was odd given she had more character than half the archangels could muster together between them.
There existed permissions for who could enter the heavenly realm, a list meticulously kept. They’d removed you from that roster. They’d locked the doors behind you.
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You felt good. The final week of your first, and hopefully last, month in hell was marked with taking off your sling for the first time.
A good three day wallow in a metaphorical cave helped you emerge with renewed vigor. Of course they locked the gates behind you, otherwise you’d just go home. That made sense. That made sense.
That had to make sense. 
Deciding to take a risk and attempt to expedite your homecoming, you and Angel made plans. Like a teenager in a party movie you snuck out of the hotel when Alastor was asleep. Well, so you assumed. You weren’t really sure what he did behind closed doors.
Angel brought you somewhere he felt people would be receptive to discussing love and talking to angelic beings, and admittedly also very high. 
Sling off but still being as gentle as you could, you leaned across the small standing-only table to talk-shout with a rather cute aquatic demon. An eel? Or maybe some kind of water-fond lizard? It didn’t matter, his glasses were cute, both of you a little drunk,  and you quite good at saying the right things.
And all of the right things were said, and you felt maybe if nothing else you’d enjoy your first demonic lay, when the power shut off.
Everyone filed out, bummed and bothered to find most of the neighborhood shrouded in darkness.
Angel tapped your shoulder and pointed up the hill to the hotel, radio station a glow with a red light, “Ya know, I wouldn’t be surprised.” Nothing to do but to stare, you stayed quiet and angry while he flagged down a taxi knowing the trip would be fast without traffic lights, “Guess Daddy Dead Eyes is calling you back.” 
Anger grew and grew in your chest as you were charioted home.
Jesus, to the hotel. Stop doing that.
You burst into the radio station tower, Alastor barely reacting. Until, that is, you marched up to his desk.
Pinned before you could react, his body pressing into yours as your ass ran up onto the desk.
“Sneaking out like a child?” His voice was low, soft, unnatural. “Why do you intentionally torment me?” 
 “I have done,” you tried to move but only succeeded in rubbing your stomach against his crotch, “no such thing. You’re just possessed.”
He responded by pressing forward, no accident, as his eyes narrowed on you, “Correct. I am a man possessed.” When he rolled himself into you, an alcohol primed groan escaped your mouth. 
“I thought you didn’t care about those things,” your eyes flashed to his lap pushing into you and then back to his glare.
“You’re my exception that proves the rule. If you’re so desperate for attention there’s no need to leave the hotel to find it.” His smile was poisoned by the simmering anger in his eyes, “Dear.”
It was the alcohol and annoyance at losing a chance with glasses-man, Jake or Jark or something not worth a scrabble move, that made you sneer a reply, “Not yours. I am a divine creature, demon. Your body would just filthy me.” Nose up, feeling absolutely better than him in every sense, you pushed him off and left. 
That was easy. Wow. 
Proud of yourself, you made it to the elevator before you realized— illusions. Perhaps his illusion was the idea sex with you was worth the effort, more so than others. He said it himself before, he didn’t care for such things. Perhaps if you could show him it was as boring and unattractive as sex with anyone else could be, maybe you could shatter his mania with disappointment.
You pulled a u-turn and heel-toed right back into his station. Giving him no time to react this time, you climbed onto his chair and straddled him, “On second thought, try your worst. Let’s get it out of your system and move on.” You ground your hips down. He only smiled up at you, amused. Taking his hands you set them on your waist, giving him permission to handle you, “Claim me. Make everyone know I’m yours.” He didn’t move. You were starting to feel embarrassed, had he goaded you just to make you look stupid? He would.  But your kind invented the tension before sex between enemies, “If you can.”
That did it. His hair visibly stood on end, “It is not a matter of ability. It’s about-”
“If you can’t, that’s fine. No need to start lying to me now. But don’t say I never gave you the opportunity.” You smirked, hoping he enjoyed a taste of his own sardonic medicine, and lifted yourself off of him.
His hands came to life on your hips, helping you rise and then flipping you onto your stomach. Your arms pushed radio transmitters and various old timey fuckery away to make room for yourself.
Those talons slipped up the center of your bottoms and crooked into your underwear. Long and strong, his fingers felt you. “Is this a perk of a heavenly body or is this,” two fingers dipped into your already wet and relaxed entrance, “all for me?”
You fought the urge to respond with anything other than malice, “Don’t flatter yourself.”
In heaven no one needs preparation, no one needs lube or required stretching to keep things whole and fun. You would love to say that quality followed you down, but unfortunately, like perfect health and angelic wings, it had not. 
You decided to chalk it up to the alcohol. Always an easy excuse to offer yourself.
Alastor’s hands pulled away and up, finding the place just above the Rosie’s Emporium clothing tag and ripping the bottoms and underwear clean in half.
You bit into your hand to keep your excited shriek to yourself but unfortunately couldn’t stop your legs kicking up. His laugh echoed off the many windows. 
Why couldn’t he be worse at this? Why couldn’t Alastor be clumsy and meek and awkward at sex? No, the menace you’d gotten almost used to was confident and commanding, you felt yourself twitching in anticipation. People have a misconception that Cupid was a chaste and wholly emotional creature, which was false. First of all, Cupids varied based on the incarnation. Just like other heavenly creatures their personality was varied and unpredictable. 
Personally, you weren’t suited for the job. If you were honest. Why couldn’t your quiver just be full of Eros and Agape? Even of those two, sexual love was more your speed. Romance was fine and lovely but perhaps you’d gotten a little jaded. 
Luckily for you, fucking Cupid was something many winners had on their afterlife bucket lists and you rarely found yourself with an empty bed.
Your attention was stolen back, Alastor’s clawed hand grabbing at the flesh of your thighs, “Oops.”
Focus. Why were you doing this again? Your system was metabolizing the alcohol now, and with the air cooling off your exposed sex, everything was awash with lust. Did you want to diminish his mania or were you just horny?
Would it really be so bad to admit you were both?
Deep breath, you remembered. Boring. Banal. The plan was to be motionless and not provide him any satisfying sounds. Don’t touch him, don’t try to push back on him, no tricks or fancy shit. The sooner he was over this you could make someone trust in love and fuck off home. 
Seconds turned to a minute, your ass in the air as Alastor’s hands pawed at your skin. You wanted to ask what the hold up was, but you didn’t want to give away how much you were needing him to just fuck you already.
“Do you miss flying?”
You looked around, were you so drunk you missed an entire chunk of conversation while thinking about how to hide thirsting for his dick?
“Yes…?” True statement.
“Allow me to help with that.”
There was a moment you half expected to be chucked out the window, but almost worse than that, you heard him seat himself in the chair again before your body was picked up and off the desk. “Alastor! I don’t-,” Hands flailing, feet moving around the best they could, you struggled against the familiar tentacles he had command over. “I do not allow it!”
Your hands batted at them fruitlessly. One came under your knees and folded them to either side of your chest before wrapping around your waist twice, a second across your chest like a seatbelt snug and secure. Had you been on the floor you could almost be mistaken for taking a deeply devout praying stance. Only your arms were free to move, the position making you open and incapable of taking back any semblance of control. 
“Alastor!” Stretching, you could almost reach the edge of his work table, but your fingers and toes curled in as you were seated on something hot and stiff. Your lips quivered, desperate to keep silent as you were pulled down onto him. Reaching back your hands found his stomach, raking your nails across the skin in need of anything to grip. 
When you heard him chuckle to himself, you knew you were already losing. Plan backfiring entirely. You pulled your hands back to your center, taking ahold of the tentacle nestled between and across your chest. 
“Heavenly Father,” his voice was quiet but sure, your eyes so wide you worried you’d get stuck making a permanent face of utter shock and despair, “bless us and these thy gifts which we receive from thy bountiful goodness, through your name, our lord.” You were lifted off his lap, Alastor’s swollen tip dragging along your unstretched walls as he said the Lord's prayer, “Amen.” Pulled back down before the second syllable even reached your ears, you cut into your bottom lip as a scream bounced around behind your teeth.
Heathen.
“I would think you of all people knew how to finish a prayer.” Alastor chided, “What will heaven say?”
If heaven knew you were being impaled midair on an overlord’s cock, they’d create a second hell for you to rule. Population of none. Except maybe some horny nuns.
As he found a pace he seemed happy with, slow and long draws out of you, you realized how fucked you were. Looking down, you could see one of his hands was settled at the base of his cock, those long fingers draped down his balls. The other hand was unseen and unfelt. 
“Alastor.” You tried to sound stern.
“Oh I doubt heaven knows my name. Not yet at least.” He sounded unbothered, almost unaffected. “Not until I’ve spirited away their little angel of love.”
You were almost insulted at how easily he could speak despite being buried so far into your wet, hot cunt. Maybe you had been spoiled in heaven, people usually so turned on by the idea of you that they were coming undone as soon as you were wrapped around them or in them in whatever way you decided.  
A broken chant of “be bored, be bored,” in your mind as Alastor hummed, that mystery clawed hand falling at your back. Biting your lip, you tried to think about anything other than how full he was making you. Did the glasses man at the club have a cock as thick as Alastor’s? Would you have been as satisfied as you were now? Every down thrust made the tuft of fur at this base press against your ass. Soft. You wanted to grind against it, the idea pulling a wanton moan out.
Fuck. Failing to distract yourself because you got distracted. It was so hard to think about anything else than your body being pushed open again and again. The blood on your lips was sweet, licking them clean before finding a new spot to bite down on. Quiet.
“Ah, are you giving me the silent treatment?”
Could this son of a bitch read minds? Could sinners read minds?!
 If you didn’t reply, that was confirmation. But if you did reply, you were breaking your goal of not talking.
“Just…,” you took a deep sigh, knowing this was going to be rough, “I’m not really feeling like making any noise.” A shrug, the best you could manage at least while bound and held aloft in the space above his lap. Pretending this was normal and boring was a feat. “I’m not a vocal person during sex. I prefer to just lie there and get serviced. Don’t mind me.”
That sounded awful. Perfect. 
“Oh? Well then, I guess I’ll not worry myself.” You could hear the smile in his voice. Less perfect. He began to hum a little tune as your body, partially upright, was now being tilted forward at a 45 degree angle from his lap. His cock was bending in you, head pressing harshly up into your walls. 
Heart beating so fast you felt a dizzy spell hit you, that renewed anticipation almost as arousing as the sensations.
His humming continued like he was reading the paper. You’d never ridden a roller coaster, but you’d seen many people do it before and this was surely the same feeling; right at the peak before the drop. When the ride operator stills you and lets you stare down at the height before you. Your stomach was flipping, excitement tinged with fear. 
You were pulled off his dick until you felt the bell of his red tip get just outside your entrance. Was he going to pull out entirely?
No. He pulled you down by way of shadows and fucked you just a couple inches into your cunt. His head was dragging out past your tight hole and smashing back in, directly hitting your g-spot. The spongy bundle of nerve endings was dented with every thrust.
You weren’t used to having your entrance stimulated so much, the skin luckily becoming slick as your own wetness was fucked out of you. 
“That feels weird, please.” How quickly you gave up. “Stop pulling out like that.”
A considerate sigh, “But you’ve gotten so wet, my dear. You’re dripping down my thighs already. I don’t think you want me to stop.”
Could you cum like this? You felt like you could, maybe if you just…you quickened your breath, faster and faster. Your stomach heaving, you felt the crescendo of pleasure. 
“On second thought!” He stopped.
Your toes wiggled, hands gripping the tentacle on your chest. Quiet. Shh. Don’t argue. Boring. Don’t care. The building orgasm waned, you felt your blood pressure lower. This really was hell. 
Alastor’s head was just sitting in you, burning hot and throbbing. You were sure you could feel his heartbeat. 
You two were locked in a standoff. Someone had to let on they were enjoying themselves; Alastor releasing pent up frustration with your attitude toward his affections, you chasing down a rare penetration-only orgasm. 
An idea struck you, a way to hopefully antagonize him and bruise his pride enough to force him into your hand (pussy), “Thank God. I think it’s almost my bedtime.”
Alastor’s smile strained, a twitch coming over his left eye. A trap. But the idea of letting you down and off of him seemed far worse than the small defeat you were offering. “Allow me to rock you to sleep then, sweetheart.”
Success! Shit! 
You reached out, the angle of your punishment allowing you to grab the edge of the table and grip. Alastor’s annoyance translated to an inhuman pace, him pulling you off entirely from his cock before bringing you back down. He was positively slipping in and out of you, your lower lips puffy and soaked around him. This degree of wetness was something you couldn’t remember feeling outside of marathon sessions. 
When your hands tightened, a shock of pain tore down your arm, a scream bringing Alastor to a sudden stop. “My collar…” Pain was apparently not a kink you enjoyed, though you briefly wondered if heaven allowed it at all. 
You couldn’t even fuck properly. You couldn’t do anything right. All you managed to do was fail. A sting to your eyes as the air hit your welling tears. Did humans feel this pain often? Your body was righted and turned, you looked down to Alastor’s face as you were brought to him. He looked so soft, usual smirk a sweet toothless smile, “I told you to keep the sling on, didn’t I?” He looked happy.
Your arms found his shoulders and your head came to his chest, “Shut up and finish already.” He didn’t release you from the binding, instead pulling the right arm under the hold of his slender tendril to keep it safe and out of the way.  His hands were both at the base of his cock while you were gently riding him. Well, “you”. He was still using his powers to manipulate your body on and off of him. Alastor’s fingers were spreading your arousal down his shaft and along his tightening balls, if you had looked at his face you’d have seen a weakened man there, furrowed brows and lust drunk eyes. But you didn’t look, trying to hide the same expression on your own features. 
Left hand free, no need to hold yourself up, you made lazy, and you hoped subtle, circles around your clit. You weren’t sure if this was a total failure or not, but you could finish and say something good came of it. You, specifically. 
Things were quiet, though. The loudest sound in the room was the wet pop coming from where his body was meeting your sopping hole. His breathing was fast and soft, sighing when he bottomed out. Another bite to your lip, a few more deep hits to your cervix, and you enjoyed a small but satisfying release. The hand on you stayed through, riding out tiny waves of pleasure as you twitched around him. When you felt his release you sighed, you did it. You think. Maybe. Regardless. 
As he slowly lifted you, you considered if your legs could hold you—
Up you went and back down you fell as he took a new, quicker pace.
“A-Ah-lastor?! You,” you bit your tongue, “already finished?”
You had made a mistake earlier that you hadn’t even realized. But Alastor had been holding it between his sharp teeth, “How many times?”
Absolutely no idea what he was talking about, you gasped out a reply, “What!?”
“How many times should I fill you before you’re too filthy to return to heaven, do you think?” He couldn’t be serious. “Three? Five? You see, the advantage of using my tentacles is that I don't get tired.”
Oh, but he was serious. 
The battle was entirely forfeit somewhere around the third time he flooded you with his seed.
“These aren’t the usual screams I enjoy from my studio, but I’m not averse to them.��
 When he felt you’d learned whatever lesson you were supposed to be taking in by the pump full, you were finally removed from him. He covered your lower half with his coat around your waist. It would be lying to say you were surprised to find his wide shoulders and small waist wasn’t just an illusion of his well tailored, yet oddly torn, coat. He was annoyingly attractive. Who gave him the right?
Your legs gave out when you tried to stand, warm hands pulling under your armpits to get you back on your feet. As much as you wanted to push him away, you were still a little tipsy and your legs still getting used to full blood flow. His arm held out for you to use for stability, you took it and wobbled silently to the floor you both lived on. Before you left the elevator you looked down and saw a line of white dripping down your inner leg. Took longer than you expected, honestly. 
When you turned to the right to go to your door, his arm came around your waist and shepherded you to his room on the left. You shot him a look, asking what he thought he was doing. 
He laughed, “Oh, after tonight’s little escapade, you’re moving!” He opened his door and gestured for you to enter, “Welcome home, my dear.”
What was worse than a failure? A catastrophe? This was that. 
“Now come on, we need to get you cleaned up.” A hand patted softly at your ass before ushering you inside.
He did just that, wiping you down and undressing you before settling you into his bed. Exhausted and sore, you decided to argue after sleep.
When you awoke, you checked your shredded bottoms for your phone. Nothing. 
An answer was found when you mentioned it to Alastor, who asked what you were searching for so early in the morning, “Perhaps someone at that venue you enjoyed has it? Too bad you can’t go back and ask.” He was resting his back against the headboard, you realized he’d unbuttoned his shirt quite a bit. “Oh well!”
How was he always making you scream?
ᡣ𐭩ˋ°•*⁀➷ masterlist
∰ Summoning the Horny Little Deer Cult (general tag list):
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@asianfrustration13 @alittletiredcry @sirens-and-moonflowers @alastorssimp
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beenbaanbuun · 3 days
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Hey!! I just read your most recent Addams!MATZ fic and the angst is DELICIOUS. Your talent for writing is incredible and your creativity really shines through with each and every fic. The fluff, angst, and even the smut are so wonderfully well done, you're one of my favorite ATEEZ writers.
If you're up to it, and feel free to ignore this, but I'd love to see a part two to the angst Addams!MATZ where seonghwa talks to hongjoong and hongjoong comes to apologize. If that's not something you see yourself continuing, I completely understand!
Make sure to keep yourself healthy and hydrated and get plenty of rest.
thank you for the compliments!!! they mean the world to me. i’m glad that my passion for writing and my love for these boys shines through in my work. here is a continuation <333
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seonghwa doesn’t even bother to knock before barging into his husbands office. yes, he thinks anger is an ugly emotion, but that doesn’t mean he is immune to it. in fact, it’s the only thing running through him as he steps through the doorway and slams the heavy slab of oak behind him. hongjoong hasn’t shown you the courtesy of being polite; why should seonghwa show his husband the same.
upon hearing the bang of the door, the overworked businessman turns around, pen still in hand and glasses low on his nose. he was half expecting to see your feisty little self again, but instead he’s met with the sight of his husband. if it weren’t for the sneer that twisted up his husbands pretty face, he might’ve explained the same thing he’d tried explaining to you. something tells him that seonghwa wouldn’t have appreciated being told ‘i’m busy, i’ll come and talk to you when i’m finished designing these pieces.’
“what’s wr—” hongjoong doesn’t even get to finish before seonghwa cuts him off with a scoff and a petty roll of the eyes. it’s hardly like him to wear his emotions on his sleeve, and yet hongjoong can see each one of them clear as day. hurt, anger, disappointment; emotions that he never wants anyone he cares about to feel. his heart sinks just a touch as he realises who those emotions are aimed towards.
“you are a piece of work, hongjoong,” seonghwa spits, sounding beautiful even with venom laced through his voice. hongjoong knows that’s the last thing he should be thinking right now, but he can hardly help admiring his husband, even when he is seething. it takes the man a second or two to knock himself free of the love-induced haze and allow the words to sink in. “do you think you’re in the right for yelling at our darling? do you think that just because you’re overworking yourself it gives you the right to make her cry?”
hongjoong’s world comes to a standstill. the clock on the wall stops ticking, the heart in his chest stops beating, and most importantly, for the first time in weeks, the brain in his head stops thinking. finally, finally, it’s no longer filled with a myriad of complex ideas, each one overlapping yet individual in its own right. finally he just has one singular thought. it’s just a shame it isn’t a good one.
he made you cry…
hongjoong made you cry…
it repeats in his head, over and over like a mantra. it taunts him, the idea that he’d upset you so much feeling like nails on a chalkboard. his hairs stand on end and his breath catches in his throat. lord below, what has he done.
“where is she?” his voice is weak, pathetic, nothing like he usually sounds. seonghwa has to admit that his resolve takes a hit when he hears it leave his loves mouth. he reminds himself to remain strong; your pain is his priority right now. “seonghwa, please—”
“take a guess, hongjoong,” seonghwa replies, once again cutting his husband off. this time it wasn’t out of anger but of fear that he might cave if he has to listen to hongjoong’s heartbroken pleas for much longer. the pained look on his face is enough to send seonghwa’s heart into overdrive; he doesn’t need any more distractions from the real reason he’s here. “where might you usually find her when she isn’t with one of us?”
the rug in front of the fire—jongho.
hongjoong almost feels ashamed that he even had to ask; he should’ve realised the second you silently left his office that you’d gone to seek comfort in your favourite onikuma. realistically, though, he should’ve realised a lot of things. it hurts him to know that he was too focused on work to do so.
he stands, and he’s grateful when seonghwa shifts to the side to allow him past, even going as far as to re-open the heavy door for him. hongjoong isn’t quite sure he deserves the soft hand that’s placed against his back as he walks through the doorway, but he appreciates it nonetheless. now isn’t the time to be wondering how he ended up with such a beautiful individual as a soulmate, but he finds himself lingering on that thought as the two of them begin their journey to the living room. it’s hard not to when the warmth of seonghwa’s touch never once leaves him.
in fact, it’s only when the two of them step through the archway that seonghwa gives a small shove to the bottom of hongjoong’s spine before going to reclaim his spot on the couch. with a single nod in your direction, seonghwa redirects his husband’s attention and hongjoong lets his gaze flicker to the floor.
the first thing he’s met with is a glare from the mutt he’d been so reluctant to allow into his abode. normally, the beast would be scolded for being so bold as to openly disrespect his master, but he let it slide this time. he can hardly tell him not to give him the attitude he so clearly deserves. in fact, this is light compared to what he would’ve expected from the overprotective creature.
at least hongjoong knows he’ll make a wonderful guard dog…
“dove,” hongjoong coos softly as he dips down to your level. he can’t remember the last time he’d sat on the floor, but this feels necessary. the closeness is something that he finds himself craving, wanting nothing more than to have you next to him again. he won’t lie and claim that the sole purpose of this is to comfort you; he needs it too, to stave off the guilt that has begun to eat him alive. “can you look at me?”
there’s a certain element of pain in his voice that tells you he’s being sincere. that he truly does feel remorse for how he treated you. whether or not it’s seonghwa that forced it upon him, you don’t particularly care. all you want is to feel hongjoong’s warmth again, so you listen. you turn your head until your watery eyes meet his.
“there she is,” he gives you a humourless chuckle, a sad smile twisting the corners of his mouth up and the corners of his eyebrows down. the warmth of his hand as he places it on your cheek is comforting; more so than any words he could say. you just need him close. he seems to realise that as he turns to the werewolf, dangerously aware of the way his ears twitch angrily above his head. “may i take her, yeosang? i promise i’ll be gentle with her.”
“you weren’t gentle with her earlier,” yeosang growls, behaving more akin to what hongjoong expects from him. it almost has hongjoong flinching back in fear of yet another bite-shaped bruise on his hand.
“that’s true, but i would like i make it up to her,” hongjoong is soft as he speaks, less so for the sake of the angry mutt, and more for the sake of you. he doesn’t want you to see any more anger from him. “besides i really think it should be my little dove’s decision as to whether i get to hold her, don’t you?” yeosang snarls, huffing in dismay as he unravels his arms from you and lets hongjoong swoop you into his. manipulation never really has been the man’s style, but he has to admit that it works wonders with the mutt. use you as leverage, and yeosang will behave like a fully trained lapdog. he’s just like them in that respect; so desperate to make you happy that they’d risk everything, dignity included.
it’s not hard for you to let yourself be passed around like some kind of teddy bear as a pose to a real, living human. you’re tired from crying, not to mention desperate for the confirmation that you’re still hongjoong’s good girl. in fact, as hongjoong tugs you into his grasp like a rag doll, you find yourself leaning into his grasp. it’s so soft compared to his sharp words and cutting tone earlier, and his familiar scent of spices fills your nostrils. it dizzies you, but hongjoong is there to catch you…
“i’m sorry,” he whispers into your ear as he pulls you up to straddle his crossed legs, “my darling dove, will you forgive me?”
you don’t answer. you don’t find it necessary to. the way you see it there’s nothing to forgive; you annoyed him, he yelled at you. it’s give and take, and despite your emotions getting the better of you, you refuse to place the blame on hongjoong. not all of it, at least.
“only if you forgive me too,” is the answer you finally settle on, mumbling it into his neck. he squirms a little at the tickling sensation, and in your own mind, you find yourself thinking he’s cute.
“you have nothing to forgive, my dove,” he answers, “but if it will make you forgive me, then yes; i forgive you…”
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cometkenji · 24 hours
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killshot, baby
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Pairing: Aaron Hotch x Doctor!Fem!reader Cw: Fluff (for real this time), LONGING (this is literally 9k words of pure yearning idek how I did that), mentions of blood, Hotch gets shot, Jack being adorable, Jack gets injured too :(, no explicit age gap, this is just rlly cute idk it's sweet I love Hotch so much I need him Summary: When you get hired as the BAU's stand-by medic, the team leader ends up being the hardest part of your job. Disclaimer: Reader is chubby! She's always fat coded, but like usual she's not described here. Just know a chubby person was imagined when writing this <3 WC: 9k (Hotch is the love of my life I could go on about him forever) This is definitely not medically accurate, please just enjoy for the sake of the story. I LOVE HOTCH I WANNA SMOOCH HIM
As weird as it was, band aids were the thing you remembered most from your childhood. You grew up as a canvas for any sort of scrape, cut, or bruise. Any wound that made your parents feel mildly worried to utterly terrified were ones that decorated your body frequently. You never tried to assign any meaning to why you became a doctor, simply crediting it as your call to the profession - to people. If you had to, though, your consistently bruised adolescent body is the best root cause you could think of. It seemed only right that the kid who couldn’t keep her skin in tact would grow to love helping others. You liked to think that’s how you kept your head an average size. Your bosses and co-workers had raved about your abilities no matter the job you took, and after a while you had to start prioritizing keeping your humility. You had started as just a kid with bruises. 
You tended to ground yourself with those same memories in times like this. For as long as you’d worked in the hospital, you held some disdain for agents. You saw many federal ones, being so close to the HQ for divisions like Behavioral Analysis, but some locals swung by too. You’d had far too many experiences of them being snappy, demanding, and usually inconsiderate to the team of people trying to save someone. You understood the individuals you were committed to helping often got there by doing monstrous things, but demanding to talk to someone when they were bleeding out and half-conscious always forced your tongue between your teeth in an effort to stay respectful. Especially now, pushing a stretcher with 3 other workers while trying to shake off the feds trailing after him. You recognized them, Agents Rossi and Hotchner, if you remembered correctly. 
“We’ll need to talk to him immediately.” The man - Rossi, you assumed, seeing as he was going gray and had less of a charge fueling his steps - spoke quickly as the two men followed your team.
“Be here when he’s out of surgery.” You didn’t bother to look back, trying to convey your annoyance and praying they got the hint. 
“He’s killed three women and has another one hostage. We don’t have time.” The other one piped up, easily keeping pace with you.
Abandoning your previous strategy, you let your team push the man into the operating room, shutting the door behind them and whipping around to face the duo. “I understand that, sir, believe me.” You were more elevated than you would have liked, years of unease unfortunately slipping through your efforts to withhold them. “But whatever happened when you found him left him barely breathing. You can’t speak to a corpse. You’ll have your time when he’s stable. Go do your job and let me do mine.” You tensed your calves planning to turn around, but quickly felt the guilt catch up to you. “I’ll call you if he wakes up.”
“If?” 
You sighed. You hated profilers. “I’ll call you.” 
“Call the headquarters.” He was scribbling down a number on the back of a hospital business card. “Ask for Agent Hotch. We’ll be waiting.” You nodded your head once, taking the card from his hands. He started walking away as he thanked you. “We appreciate it.” Sure.
The surgery to save the man had been a trip and half. One of the bullets had internally ricocheted, and the other two were lodged next to crucial arteries. You praised your mother for giving you steady hands as you inched them out of him. It took you and your team six hours and fifteen minutes to get his heartbeat steady, you estimated he’d be knocked out all night. You should call, you thought. You had no idea how late these people worked but they were more than likely expecting to talk tonight and you didn’t know if that’d be possible. You fished the card out of your pocket, his handwriting was impressively neat for how fast he’d written the number. You heard the line ring twice before someone picked up. 
“This is Penelope Garcia with the Behavioral Analysis Unit, who am I speaking to?”
“Uh- I’m Dr. L/n down at Quantico Med. I’m looking for Agent Hotch?” Your words tilted up at the end of your sentence. The casual nature of his shortened name left a weird feeling in your mouth after you said it. “I have an update on a patient he was asking after.”
“Is this about an unsub?” 
“A what?” She lacked professionalism. You wondered briefly if he had just given you the phone number of an employee.
“I’m sorry-” she laughed slightly. “Is this about a suspect? Hotch told me someone might be calling.”
“Um - yeah it’s about a suspect. He was brought in earlier. Is Agent Hotch there? I’m sorry ma’am but I've been in an operating room for the past 6 hours and I want to go home.” You hoped she’d respect your honesty, you really didn’t have the patience to explain yourself to someone new. 
She chuckled. “I got you honey, I’ll page you over.” The line went dead for a second before the ringing resumed. Please be quick, you prayed, get me out of this fucking hospital.
“Hotchner.” His voice was rougher over the phone. You guessed the long hours started to weigh on him by this time of night. You always felt it the most around this time, too.
“Hi, sir. This is Dr. L/n from the hospital. We managed to stabilize your guy, but it’s unlikely he’ll be up before tomorrow. I know it was assumed he’d be awake tonight but it took longer to operate than expected.” Your guys put 3 bullets in him, so sorry for the inconvenience. “I’ll be here all day tomorrow. You can come by at any time and I’ll let you in.”
“Are you positive we can’t talk to him tonight? I understand the situation is difficult but this case is extremely time sensitive. I’m sure that’s not lost on you.” You cursed the man for not being more condescending in his delivery. Thinking of the poor person either trapped or dead right now due to the guy you just saved made you sick. 
“I know.” Fucking hell. “I can wake him up.” A quarter dose of adrenaline works wonders. “Be here in fifteen minutes. You won’t have much time to talk to him.”
“Thank you.” He hung up. You put your head in your hands. Just a little kid with bruises.
– 
The layout of the BAU made you envious of the workers here. You’re sure they’d dealt with atrocities beyond what the average person could stomach, but you also worked within the belly of the beast and man were those hospital hallways claustrophobic. The daylight shone beautifully through the large windows, and you asked yourself if you’d be able to cope with all the paperwork in exchange for a feel like this. There weren’t any front desks, nowhere to sign in, so you sat in one of the chairs by the door and waited to see if something would happen. You had been specifically requested to visit the building , a note signed ‘Strauss’ being left with the hospital secretary. You didn’t like being called on by a stranger, it made you nervous beyond belief. You’re sure anyone walking by assumed you were being charged with something. Sweating like a sinner in church.
“Dr. L/n?” A woman was standing near you, having completely avoided your eyesight until now. “I’m the board supervisor, Erin Strauss. Thank you for coming.” The woman was nice enough, but she seemed rigid, clearly confident in her authority. She led you to her office and gestured to the chair facing her desk.
“I’ll cut right to the chase.” She smoothed her pencil skirt as she sat down. “The BAU is seeking a stand-by medic and I’d like to offer you the position. You’re revered highly by your previous places of employment and your current boss has only good things to say. Along with a personal reference by an employee of mine, you’re certainly a person of interest. You’d be working interchangeably with three other individuals, however you would be the first one called when needed.”
That is definitely not what you were expecting. You were almost immediately ready to turn down the offer. You didn’t work well with cops. You worked well in a hospital, going into the field to patch the wounds of both good and evil was a less than appealing deal to you. 
“You’d be on call while you worked your current position at Quantico Medical, when you’re at home you can remain there, but you’ll be flying with the rest of the team when they leave. You will be entered into a federal database, and employed as a stand-in for hospitals near you when working abroad.” She went on to explain you’d be paid salary, and when you heard just how much you could add to your monthly income by doing this, you took it. You were doing fine, you definitely didn’t need the financial boost, but you had family that could use it. Your niece had been close to turning down college because of the cost, so some extra money could really set her up. 
“Excellent. You’ll start your field training next Monday.” She was shuffling papers into a hefty stack as she talked. “Come back when you’ve finished this and I’ll arrange a team meeting.” The stack was even heavier than you expected when you picked it up. It was far too early to be regretting your decision. 
The first day of training had been easy enough. You weren’t an agent, so you avoided having to learn weapons or combat. It generally consisted of learning efficiency, along with how to work properly with agents and the expected etiquette when dealing with an unsub. You had met the team only once by now. Everyone had been nice - Garcia especially - but aside from her nobody had been particularly welcoming. The conditions of your job were a bit strange, basically capitalizing on the what ifs that came with the FBI title, and that created a bit of distance between you and the rest of the team. They questioned the necessity of you, they’d survived this long without a stand-by medic with them, why did they need one now?
Above any disregard for those in law enforcement sat your stubbornness. You knew they were on the fence about you, the most logical thing for you to do now would be attend every session required of you and prove yourself through pure accomplishment. Easy in theory, much harder to execute when Aaron Hotch is the one you’re learning from. He was a good teacher - you’d give him that - he had a confidence to him that easily dominated a room, attracted eyes in a way other men couldn’t manage. You’d ignored the initial stir in your stomach when meeting him in favor of attempting to scold him and his partner. Now, it was much harder to quell the slight pound in your head or the sweat on your palms. He was just standing up front, lecturing on the importance of a team, but his attire was the only thing able to break through the haze in your mind. Every time he’d shown up at the hospital, he’d donned a suit, a slightly baggy blazer worked incredibly well as a shield to your curiosity. That had clearly changed, as he shed the overcoat when talking to the class, having just a white button up adorn his torso. You took notice of the rolled up sleeves, clearing your throat quietly to snap yourself back into focus. You had the intention of snuffing out this little thing of yours but were a living contradiction at this point, setting on the goal of avoidance while barely ignoring the sight of the veins on his arms. You pondered the thought of sleeping with some man at a bar just to get this out of your system, but remembered how little projecting attraction onto someone else helps a situation. In other words, you were probably fucked.
– 
The first mission you worked with the team had you flying to a tiny Georgia town to investigate a string of bodies being found in ransacked homes. It seemed to be a simple motive, robbery turned to murder, but the team was called down to help once the kill count hit five. You had been expecting a long commercial flight, figuring you’d need to invest in a good neck pillow and some aspirin. Nobody had bothered to inform you the Bureau utilized private air travel, or that you’d be flying in one with people you’d known for two weeks. You’re sure you looked a little out of place, looking around the plane without being obvious you were doing it and adjusting to the sight of couches on planes. The others, having had this privilege for years now, took their respective seats. You had been nervous about that, unfortunately. The unsure feeling of where to sit reminding you painfully of high school cafeterias and inferior reputations. The only open seat happened to be right next to the man you’d been ducking away from the past two weeks. Lovely. He took a moment to look at you when you sat. You were prepared to talk to him, but for now you busied yourself with rummaging through your bag looking for nothing and pretending not to see him in your peripherals.
“Do you get sick on planes?” He seemed to have a deeper motive when he asked, like you saying yes would solve a puzzle in his head.
“Not really.” You’d only been on a plane a handful of times. “Turbulence can make me nervous, but I think that’s fairly normal.” You thought momentarily that perhaps he would blame your obvious anxiety on that instead of his proximity to you. He was a profiler, you’re sure he picked up on tells for nerves you weren’t even aware you had, but maybe he’d write it off. “Why do you ask?”
“You seem…” He trailed off for a moment, looking over your face to try and categorize your expression. “I don’t know, lost?” He smiled, light and easy, and you realized he was trying to reach out to you. The comfortability in the gesture made your head spin. It was like a shot of morphine, enveloping your body in a dull elation - an escape. You wanted that comfortability, wanted him to feel weightless around you. There had been a certain tension between the two of you since you started. He was warmer than the rest, but also more awkward. Your first real interaction had been an outburst, and it left you hesitant to talk to him. 
You chuckled at his remark. “No I -” You shook your head as you spoke, as if shaking off his accusation. “Nobody told me about the jet. You’d think exclusive aircraft would be in the job predecessor.”
He nodded in agreement, holding a slight upturn on his lips. “Yes, you would.” He glances away to check the time, looking back to you quickly like you were his homebase. “Strauss has a habit of getting ahead of herself. Plus, we’re all pretty used to it by now. I have to remind her sometimes that normal provisions don’t have a TI.”
“I’m sure.” It was clear she’d worked with the unit for a while. “Even if they did, though, they’d never find another Garcia.” You thought of the woman, bright and sparkly and incredibly good at her job. “You guys are lucky to have her.”
He stared at you, losing a hint of the lightheartedness and letting a wave of genuinity intertwine with it. “You have her too, Y/n.” His eyes were like a trap, rich pools of honey just begging to tug you down in. “You’re a member of this team. Don’t think your newness makes you inferior to anyone else on it. We’re lucky to have you too.”
Fuck, you were whipped. “I really appreciate that, sir.”
He smiled, shaking his head and waving you off. “Don’t with the sir, please. It’s bad enough when Garcia does it. You can call me Aaron.” Not even the other team members called him that, a thought that seemed to strike you both simultaneously. “Or Hotch, whatever you prefer.”
You just looked at him, letting a smile rouse your lips and trying your hardest not to let the effect he had on you reach your face. “Ok.”
The first case had been good training wheels, simply tending to a vic who needed stitches and getting a feel for the life of a field agent. You’d been adjusting nicely to it, quickly getting used to working random hospitals and waiting to be needed on an active crime scene. The others had warmed up to you tremendously after getting back, opening their circle for one more, and you couldn’t be more grateful. A team like this was something you’d wanted for a while, growing more and more unsatisfied with the callous ER workspace by the day. Ironically, there was much more life in jobs dealing with murder. He had also been warming up to you. The two of you hit the status of work-place friends nearly instantly. The endearing encounter on the plane simmered inside you for a while. The memory of it prompting you to keep talking to him, always searching for a fix of the painkiller you’d felt that day. 
You weren’t a profiler, but you were unfathomably infatuated, leading you to never miss his tone getting softer with you, or any one of his touches that lingered for just a second too long. It just barely bypassed the line of friendship, but you never lost sight of that linear barrier, so it was incredibly prevalent to you when he breached it. You scoffed at the idea of any reciprocity, brushing off every remark made by a coworker or the one horrific time you heard JJ refer to the two of you as ‘mom and dad.’ This wasn’t a plausible thing. This was a stupid workplace crush that was more of a hindrance than anything. The growing closeness between you and him would have it’s effects properly restrained to the confines of your head, only permitted to express themselves once you were away from the man. It was an odd dynamic, but Aaron wasn’t an obvious guy, so trying to define the edges of you two would only draw attention to the fact you had been looking at all. No thank you.
“Shit.” The team was sitting around the table going over their files. You were mainly there for support, as you were never a part of the lead up to the catch, the chase. You heard Hotch mumble the exclamation under his breath and looked over to see the trouble. He was looking down at his phone, jaw resting between his thumb and pointer finger. You got up and moved to sit next to him, the motion virtually ignored by everyone else as they continued searching for connections.
“Everything ok?” You mumbled to him, trying not to disturb your friends who were nearly nose-deep in their files. 
“Yeah.” He sighed. “Jack’s sitter canceled. I wanted to stay here to go over the latest crime scene but I guess I’ll have to raincheck.” The killings of your latest unsub had been increasing. You knew the collective stress that was starting to boil within the team. Him going home would only slow them down, a horrible addition to a killer that was speeding up. 
You volunteered your night away before you even got a chance to think about it. 
“I can watch him.” 
Surprise was apparent in the raise of his eyebrows. “I appreciate it, but I couldn’t ask that of you.
You’re fairly certain you would do anything he asked of you, but the nobility of the man in this case almost made you roll your eyes. “No, please. I offered and I would love to. I’m not helping anyone just sitting here, and you leaving would slow them down. You know what to look for here, I don’t. I don’t want another girl going missing just cause your sitter flaked. I can do it.”
He seemed mildly speechless. “I -” He paused, trying to find the wording he wanted. “I suppose you’re right. I’ll send you the address, if you’re sure.” He looked at you with more adoration than you’d ever had directed at you, so intense your eyes instinctively ducked down. “Thank you, Y/n.” He was so touched by the action it made you slightly sad to think about. Had no one ever helped him? Maybe you were raised weird, this seemed hardly beyond common decency to you. 
“What are friends for?” He exhaled a slight laugh in gratuitous agreement, but you saw the glimmer of his eyes dull slightly. The notion surely reflected in your own eyes as the words burned your tongue. Friends.
Jack was a delight. A well mannered, clearly well raised kid. Parts of his dad shined so vibrantly in him that you’re sure you’d be able to pick him out of a crowd based on mannerisms alone. Hotch had called Jack’s daycare, verifying your identity and giving you the ok to go pick him up. He seemed quiet on the way home, but rushed to give you a tour of the house, and excitedly led you to his line up of toy trains once you’d entered the place. There was a shift between you and Hotch that happened when you gave the offer. A shift that was now only just settling in you. This was his house. His space, his stuff, his place of security. He’d invited you into it, gave you permission to enter it, to exist within it, and it was strangely intoxicating. He was intoxicating, and you realized quickly how much you ached for the permanence of it. You’d made Jack dinner, played for a bit, went out for ice cream per his pleading, and wished him a peaceful goodnight when his bedtime rolled around. He’d dubbed you his ‘best babysitter ever’ and you knew as soon as the words hit your ears that you’d be watching him again. You’re sure situations like today popped up frequently for Hotch, you could be a valuable asset to him when you had free time. He would be saving money too. No need to pay a sitter when you were being paid by the Bureau every second you were there. Aaron had gotten home a few minutes past one, utterly exhausted and uncharacteristically apologetic. He was sorry for being gone so long, making you stay so late, everything and anything the man could apologize for was pouring out of his mouth. He’d welcomed you to stay, but his hair was messy from messing with it all night, and he’d ditched the suit jacket for a gray long sleeve. You’d wanted to take the opportunity, wanted to bask in the safety of him for as long as he’d allow it, but those restrained thoughts were clawing the walls of your skull with a vigor unlike anything you’d felt before. It would be abhorrent to dream about the man while in the confines of his home. You couldn’t do that - you wouldn’t. You brushed off any apology he could conjure and let him escort you out the door. His hand was on your lower back, and his voice was low from the siphoning nature of the day. 
“Thank you, again.” He looked at you. “You’re a lifesaver.” You’d expected to hear some humor in his voice. The start of banter between friends, a casual appreciation for a job well done, but there wasn’t any. He sounded rough, slightly beat down, his eyes filled with a sincerity all aimed at you. A blend of pure adoration and a deeper level of dedication. Was this a commitment? What kind?
Heat bubbled in your stomach as you made eye contact. “Please.” You shook your head slightly. “Jack’s an angel. You’re clearly as good at this as you are profiling.” You nodded in the vague direction of Jack’s bedroom as you referenced the kid. “It was my pleasure. I’d love to do it again, if you’ll let me.” 
He sighed out a small laugh and broke your gaze for a moment, looking back to you as he spoke. “I’d like that.”
You’d seen Jack a multitude of times after that. Aaron was never particularly fond of asking you, claiming that he appreciated the gesture but it was mainly Jack’s begging that made him cave. That, and your persistence. You liked Jack a lot, and more selfishly, you liked being around Aaron’s stuff. It was a little creepy, yes, but you felt better acquainted with him after being around his things. An energetic type of understanding, the type that deepened a connection without words. He was needed late tonight, and as much as you hated denying an offer to see Jack, you had priorities at the hospital. The previous sitter wasn’t able to watch him, so she gave a personal recommendation, and Jack got stuck with a stranger. You thought about him while working, probing and patching people half-focused with the desire to be elsewhere. You’d felt mildly guilty about it, but it’s not like it altered your work, so you figured it was harmless. 
You wondered slightly if you manifested the event you were watching play out. You watched in pure disbelief as a sobbing Jack was being carried into the ER by a flustered blonde woman. There was blood staining the right sleeve of his shirt, pouring out of his skin in a surplus and completely soaking through the material. A jagged piece of glass was standing at attention in his wrist, having sliced through the fabric like butter. He was marked ‘urgent,’ who knows if the shard had hit an artery or where the glass had come from. 
Most other doctors were busy, either operating or tending to patients. You’d walked to the front desk, remaining as calm as your racing heart would let you, and told the secretary to assign the case to you. “I know this one. Let me take him.” She just nodded, marking your name down as the primary doctor and allowing you to take him back. 
Walking up to the blonde woman, you assumed this had been the new babysitter. She was a wreck, trying to explain what happened through her own hysteria while simultaneously having her words drowned out by the crying child. “It’s ok, ma’am.” You’d reassured her, obviously she hadn’t intended the injury. “Let me take him, I’m a friend of his father.” You saw the calmness dilate her eyes, making itself apparent in the relaxation of her tense shoulders. You removed the bleeding boy from her arms, holding him against you and cooing at him the way you would a baby. You took him to a stretcher a few feet away and laid him down, ensuring his wounded arm stayed flat in an attempt to slow the blood. He was on the brink of passing out, his body not having nearly enough energy for the sobbing on top of losing vital fluid. “Jack.” You addressed him directly, two more doctors aiding your transfer to an examination room. “I need you to stay with me, buddy. Just a little longer, I promise. You’re gonna be just fine.” You pushed with one hand, caressing his non-injured arm to emphasize your affection. “Just a little longer.” You looked at him in between looking forward to keep the stretcher straight, seeing that same adoration from his father’s eyes mirrored in his. You felt protective, realizing you cared for the Hotchners much more than you let yourself believe. Little kid with bruises, you skimmed through your origins in your mind in an attempt to center your focus. Just a little kid with bruises.
Two hours later, Jack was stitched up and sleeping soundly. You knew his sitter had called Hotch, probably as soon as something happened, and were not surprised to find him idle in a waiting room chair. He was leaned forward, head in his hands and knee bouncing violently. He heard footsteps getting closer, a feeling within him recognizing them as yours, and he looked up. His eyes were teary, tired. The look of a concerned father.
“How is he?” You’d never witnessed this type of worry in him, heard the amount of desperation in his voice.
You smiled lightly as a predecessor to Jack’s wellbeing. “He’s fine. Glass missed his arteries. We had him patched up in around an hour and a half. Gave him a lollipop and a light sedative to get him to rest. He should be all set to go in the morning.” 
He sighed, and the amount of stress that audibly left his body made you feel a little lighter from where you stood. “Thank God.”
“Hey man, give us a little credit.” You joked, relieved when you heard the slight laugh come from his downturned head. Pity laugh, probably, but it was a cherished sound nonetheless. 
“You have full credit, Y/n.” He shook his head, raising it to look at you. “Quite the hero.”
You almost physically recoiled from the term, rushing to correct him while maintaining the lighthearted nature. “Definitely not.” You rejected the praise. “Just doing my job. I’m glad I could help him.”
He leaned back in his chair, relaxing for a second before he planned to stand up. “Noble.” He chuckled. “But you helped my son. That’s about as heroic as it gets to me, doc.”
Blood rushed to your ears at your professional title being used so affectionately. “Go check on your kid, Hotch.” You waved back towards the direction of Jack, knowing that even though he was asleep, he’d want to see him anyway. You also hoped the slight distraction would draw his attention away from your increasingly flustered state. “You’ll have plenty of time to praise me.” You weren’t entirely sure you’d wanted the sentence to exit your mouth, but it was too late to bite your tongue.
He raised his eyebrows so slightly that you scolded yourself for having noticed. Such a minuscule action that seemed to move mountains within your brain. “Oh?”
“Shut up.” You rolled your eyes at your own remark. “I’m walking away. You know what I meant.”
“Mhm.” He smiled, nodding his head dramatically and rising from his seat. “Just name a time and place, doc. I’ll do good on that promise.”
You went momentarily braindead, hoping your eyes weren’t giving away the less than work appropriate feeling pumping through your veins. You stared baffled at him for what was definitely a millisecond too long before giving a half-shocked, half-flattered laugh and gesturing him away. “Say that when you’re not obviously sleep deprived and delirious and maybe we can arrange it.” The last thing you heard was him, laughing the way you do when you’re very serious but desperately trying to pass it off as a joke. You knew it well, having done it almost every time you were around him since you started. Comfortable, witty retorts between  friends. “Have a good night, Aaron.” 
Aaron, he thought. He’d remember that.
– 
That had been the second shift between the two of you. Felt immediately by both parties and tossing you both into the deep end of whatever you’d been building with him. He’d been much more touchy, seemingly subconscious on his part but noticed by every part of your body, mind, and soul. You thought about what it could mean, then sunk even further into your incoherent mind when realizing just how subconscious the actions really were. He was just drawn to you. You had viscerally fought that conclusion as it came to you but it genuinely could not be anything else. He was touching you more because - whether on the surface or deeper down - he just wanted to, and that fact was wrecking you. You were so fucking into him that it hurt. Hurt to look at him or be in his home watching Jack or have his knee pressed against yours in the back of car during a team outing. It all hurt because he wasn’t yours. He seemed into you, too. Of course, you didn’t know to what extent. You worried maybe he hadn’t said anything yet because he simply didn’t like you enough, and that hurt more than any other factor. It was a foolish notion - one you would have abandoned instantly had you peeked inside his head - but alas, no such luck.
He’d been more relaxed, too. The two of you reaching a point in your relationship you hadn’t ever let yourself dream about. He was funny, achieving that lightness around you that you’d wanted from the start. He’d gotten riskier, amping up the dial on his remarks a bit. Starting with those like the hospital, ending with ones that made you have to take a breather in the room where they kept the coffee. It hadn’t gone unnoticed, per say, but the others were certainly ignorant to the true depth of the change. You simply couldn’t measure it by witnessing, you had to feel it. And fuck were you feeling it. 
A week or so after Jack’s ER visit, you’d asked after him. You didn’t know if the regret was immediate, but it flooded through you quickly. Aaron got nervous, shifty, like you’d touched a live wire of his and he now had to patch it up before it blew. You got concerned, asking if something happened with his stitches or if Jack was now showing some sort of trauma response to the event. Was that even plausible? You weren’t sure, PTSD wasn’t exactly your strong suit. However, he quickly stated that wasn’t the case, noting that Jack was actually in perfect health and had been relentless about wanting you over for dinner.
“He’s grateful.” Hotch was smiling with paternal reluctance, proud of his son for having such good morals but also uncomfortable with the possibility of rejection he was facing. “He wants to see you, say thank you for “saving his life.” He emphasized the last bit in a sarcastic tone, both of you knowing his life hadn’t been in danger but also knowing that fact wouldn’t deter the boy from considering you some type of guardian angel. “Would you be up for it?” If you hadn’t been so focused on snuffing out the heat rushing to your face, you would have seen that same heat reflected in a slight pink across his cheeks. 
“Definitely.” You smiled at the thought of the boy bugging his dad about getting you to the house. “When were you thinking?”
“Saturday night?” Both of you were scheduled to be off that day, and you found yourself begging whatever merciful being would listen to not have some lead to chase that day. “He’ll want the day to prepare.” He chuckled.
“Oh no.” You joked. Prepare? You couldn’t even begin to imagine what that meant. “Well, I am extremely curious to find out what an eight year old boy has to prepare for. How about seven? Would that be good?”
Aaron felt his palms start to sweat. He’d never actually been around his house when you’d been there, only seeing you on your way out. “That’s perfect.”
“Great.” You smiled, checking the time and realizing you needed to get going to the hospital. “I’m looking forward to it.” You nodded slightly as one last confirmation and headed out, suppressing a giddy smile while trying to force yourself into a headspace you could work in. 
In the meantime, Aaron watched you walk off from where he’d been perched on your desk, entirely oblivious to the man watching the scene.
“As I live and breathe.” Rossi had crept up on him, not spooking him but rather suspending him in a state of immeasurable embarrassment. “Aaron Hotcher has a crush.” The man held his shoulder, patting him there like a father witnessing his son get his first girlfriend. “She’s a good one. Quite the eye you got, Aaron.” Then he was gone, walking away with Aaron’s dignity clasped in his hands. Closing his eyes in pure mortification, Hotch simply thanked God that nobody else was around for that and walked away with the intention of fusing to his office chair to avoid ever looking at Rossi again. At least you’d said yes, he thought. He didn’t know how he’d cope with his friend watching him swing and miss.
The daylight seemed to be anticipating this more than you were, hours passing by like minutes until eventually the sun woke you up on Saturday morning. It was blazing through the cracks in your blinds, settling in slim lines across your floor, as light and gentle as snow. You’d been rehearsing your poker face in preparation for tonight. Writing safety manuals for any ungodly situation that could happen, everything from a fire to Aaron gaining the ability to read your mind and unearthing what you really thought about him. You were so happy that Jack held you in such high esteem, but your hands were shaking at the thought of sitting down with him and his father and acting like it wasn’t the dynamic you fucking dreamt about. You knew it was a good sign of compatibility if someone’s cat liked you - did their child liking you mean the same thing? You hoped Jack’s seemingly innate approval of you gave you at least a couple brownie points. Aaron had called you a hero. Swiftly ignoring the memory of what he’d said after he called you a hero, you pulled out your phone. You and him didn’t really speak outside of work and babysitting schedules, but you were pacing around your room and needed something to give you a semblance of structure, a reassurance - even if it was just for the time. You texted, asking if you were still on for tonight, then went to go make breakfast and inevitably pace some more. He’d gotten back to you about twenty minutes later, confirming the time and giving details of how excited Jack was about it. You smiled at that, praying tonight would be as smooth as humanly possible and you could walk away with an ounce of emotional control. You set an intention, this wouldn’t deepen your feelings for Aaron. Was it a pointless goal? Yes. Was it also highly unlikely to prove true? Yes. But the loose plan you worked around the resolution almost completely extinguished the anxiety that had been blazing for hours now. It would be fine, you thought. Completely and utterly fine. 
The same words were looping through your thoughts when you got to his front door. Casual - but still minorly more dressed up than he’d seen you. You’d put a little extra effort into your appearance, mainly to pass the time if you were honest, and you walked in with mild confidence fueling your steps. You did your best not to ogle him, he was in an attire that was already threatening to unravel the safety net of the goal you set. You were used to the suits hidden beneath blazers you cursed the existence of, maybe a snippet of his forearms when he rolled up his sleeves late at night. Now, though, he sported a simple black tee, more comfortable than you’d ever seen him. Domesticity was practically oozing from the entire situation. You felt the pieces slip into place as Jack ran up behind him, and you almost cried with how badly you wanted this feeling to be your normal. 
“Hey, buddy.” You laughed as he hugged you, reciprocating the act as well as you could from the multiple feet you had on his height. “How’s the arm?”
He raised up his wrist, now gauze free and proudly showed off the scar there. You played up the genuine admiration you felt for him. “That’s a pretty gnarly scar.” He nodded in response, probably feeling cool for the evidence he handled such an injury. “I don’t want to see you back in my operating room, you hear me? Scared the life out of us.” The scolding was playful, and he giggled at your words.
Aaron huffed in agreement, cocking his head to the side slightly. “You can say that again.” Jack looked between you two, smiling and seemingly thinking something neither of you could decipher. To break the moment of silence, Aaron patted his shoulder. “Why don’t you tell her what’s on the menu, buddy?”
He told you, and you hummed along to his words, commenting that it sounded delicious and actually meaning it. He ran away a second later - presumably back to whatever he’d been doing before you got there - and left you and Aaron alone. Venturing into the kitchen, you saw multiple pans and pots sitting neatly on the stove, table set and ready to be utilized. Everything was being kept warm, and you finally gained an appetite after having wrestled with nerves all day. 
“Do you want a drink?” He asked it while entering the kitchen, pausing to look at you. 
“Please.” You were desperate to calm yourself, eager to subdue the shaking of your hands. “Do you have any wine?” You weren’t the biggest fan, but you couldn’t think of a drink more fitting for the evening.
He nodded slightly. “Red or white?”
“White.”
He chuckled. “Thought so.” It was quiet, more to himself than you as he was already walking away from you when he said it. He’d thought about what kind of wine you liked, you thought. He’d thought about you. He pulled two wine glasses down from the cupboard, then walked over to the fridge. He reached above it, barely having to stretch, and pulled an uncorked bottle from the storage up there. You felt your legs tense looking at how tall he was, how sure he was of his actions. Jesus. It’s been five minutes and you were crumbling. You watched his hands as he uncorked the bottle, reading the label and realizing the brand.
You furrowed your eyebrows. “Seems a little fancy for a dinner.”
He laughed under his breath as he finished pouring the glasses, walking back over to sit next to you on the island stools. “You’re a guest of honor.” He placed yours in front of you. “I thought it was fitting.” 
You searched, but couldn’t find the humor in his tone. You raised your eyebrows slightly. “Am I?” It was sarcastic, you needed to stop the heat in your stomach from spreading. “I didn’t know doing your job earned such a title.”
He was drinking as you spoke, finishing his sip before joking back. “You’re a doctor.” He said. “I thought you knew that better than anyone.”
You sucked air through your teeth as if wounded by his words. “Touche.” You took a sip of your drink, relishing the taste. Damn, he didn’t come to play. He laughed, and you set your glass back down. “Ok, I have to know.” He drew his attention to you. “What the hell did Jack need the day to prepare for?” The question had been on your mind since he asked you.
He took a drink, chuckling with a mouthful then swallowing so he could reply. “He actually helped cook most of this.” He nodded towards the stove full of different dishes. “That was what he needed the day for. Time for trial and error.”
You grinned at the thought of Jack and Aaron spending the day in aprons, making sure everything turned out perfect. “That is the cutest thing I’ve ever heard.”
He looked back towards Jack, coloring in the living room, close enough to see but far enough to miss your discussions. “He gets nervous around you.”
That surprised you. “Why on Earth would he be nervous around me?” You took your turn looking at the boy, an idea hitting you and making you feel sick. “Wait, I didn’t do something did I?”
He looked back at you, smiling. “No, no. Nothing like that. He gets nervous because he likes you. He knows who you are to me, too, so he wants to make a good impression.”
Your mind latched onto that sentence and played it like a broken record, bouncing between your ears over and over. “Oh?” Your lips were curling up at the corners, eyebrows furrowing as you got ready to hold him to that statement. “And who might I be to you, Aaron?”
Fuck. He’d let that slip past his lips without even thinking about it. So used to being in the confidential company of his son. Good thing he used to be a lawyer and could lie his ass off. “Most of his sitters aren’t also my coworkers.” He delivered it the smoothest way he could, smiling and drinking to hopefully exude a false comfortability that he certainly wasn’t feeling.
“Mhm.” You narrowed your eyes at him, trying to look sarcastic but in truth downplaying the sting you felt. What if this had been one-sided all along? You hadn’t prepped a safety guide for that.
Luckily, Jack came sprinting into the kitchen a second later, pleading with his father to eat now. Clinging to his leg and declaring how hunger was killing him by the second, dramatically threatening to wither away before your very eyes. You both shared a look, agreeing silently to put the kid out of his misery. The instinctual nature of the act hit you like a bolt of lightning. Both of you so in tune it was comical. The dinner had been lovely, and you reminded yourself to encourage Jack to keep up his cooking hobby. Maybe you could foster a professional chef. You’d talked with them both, light and the happiest you’d felt in a while. There it was, you realized. That weightless feeling you wanted to give him. You felt it in yourself too, and you could only pray it was because he felt it first. When dinner concluded, you’d help clean up while Jack resumed his coloring. His bedtime was soon, and you didn’t want him to spend his last hour washing pans. He was nearly delirious by the time 9:00 graced the clock, tired from the preparation of the day and needing to get to sleep. He’d given you a hug goodnight, thanked you for coming like the gentleman he was, and that was the last you saw of him. The rest of your time there was spent on the couch with Aaron, you both held a second glass of wine, and you noticed it manifest in the blush on his face. He was gorgeous, and you were staring. You know your eyes went to his lips a couple times as he spoke, low and rougher as the time ushered more light out of the sky. You saw his eyes slip down a few times too, this sort of unspoken, agonizing rule of look don’t touch. He’d walked you to the door, thanked you for your attendance, and then you were leaving. Sitting in your car, warm on the inside from both his presence and the anger you felt at yourself for not just kissing him. You were so incredibly needy for this - for him, and that fact just sat with you, like a raincloud constantly in a state of downpour, never letting you forget the pure fucking craving you had for him.
You think the start of your blackout was Morgan’s panicked voice over the speaker. You’d been stationed in your typical hut, equipped with medical gear and waiting on someone to need you. It was almost never your team in need of service, typically you were tending to an injured hostage or sometimes the unsub themselves, but never your friends. Your breath had been baited since you’d heard the gun go off. You knew the case was dealing with an aggressive attacker, you’d been expecting a fight, but nothing is ever more excruciating than waiting to hear who the shot was meant for. Derek crying out your name followed by a “get in here. Hotch is down, we need you in here.” had you ready to run the soles of your shoes down to dust just to make it in time. In time. God, in time for what? You’d ran past Emily and Rossi hauling out the unsub, anger evident in their treatment of him. How bad was it? How bad had he got him to have them acting like that?
The scene was bloody. Your brain switching off and forcing you into autopilot as you registered the pool of Hotch’s blood that Morgan was kneeling in. He was putting pressure on the wound, an attempt to stop the bleeding but it was flowing like a river. He wouldn’t make it to the hospital like this, you realized. He wouldn’t make it to the fucking hospital. You were holding his life in between your hands right now, the slightest tremor could sever that chord and you were feeling the pressure hard. Aaron was leaned against the wall, slumping down slightly which was only making the bleeding increase under the internal pressure. 
You looked at Morgan, putting on the bravest face you could muster and effectively seizing control of the situation. “Morgan.” You got his attention quickly. “On three I need you to lift him away from the wall. I need to check for an exit wound.” He just nodded, doing exactly as you’d told him when you reached three. You checked the area, finding an exit wound in nearly the same spot. It’d been a straight line. You sighed in relief. Thank fucking God. “Ok, Morgan, I need you to put pressure on the wound on his back. I’m going to stitch the front to give us the time we need for the hospital drive but I need you to hold it. You got me?” 
He nodded once. “I got it.” He moved his hand from the front to the back, Aaron wincing at the switch.
You took out the numbing cream from your pack, knowing it wouldn’t do much for a gushing bullet wound but hoping it would at least quell the sting of a needle. You took out the needle, threading it with hands frighteningly stagnant as the adrenaline gave you tunnel vision. You had to save him. “Aaron.” You looked at him as you prepped his skin for the procedure. “I’m gonna need to double stitch this, and it’s gonna hurt like hell. I need you to stay with me.” 
The man just nodded, exhaling in exhaustion. “Do it.”
You worked as quickly as possible, gaining hope as you listened to the ambulance approach. “There you go.” You said under your breath, at this point you couldn’t tell if you were reassuring him or yourself.  You looked to Morgan, who was still sealing the other injury. “Help me get him up. Keep your hand on there. These stitches are gonna give us twenty minutes tops. Hold his shoulders straight and walk quickly.” You counted again, both of you rising when you hit three, taking the man with you. The walk to the ambulance was the longest of your life. Aaron was clinging to his consciousness but you knew he was losing grip. Finally getting him to the stretcher and slamming the doors was a relief like nothing else. There was no time to debate anyone else going, you rushed him in and sat right down beside him, taking off almost immediately after. The bleeding had slowed, and your hand took the place of Morgan’s on his back. Since he was laying down, his full weight was on it, and you felt the circulation lessen more and more as it remained there. You couldn’t care less, you’d let the blood drain from your entire arm if it meant Aaron’s survival. He hadn’t passed out, which you thought was miraculous, simply walked the line of decently delirious. Groaning under his breath at every slight bump in the road. 
“Why am I always having to save you Hotchner men?” You knew now wasn’t the time to be humorous, but you would have done anything to deviate from the tears in your eyes, the ball in your throat. You finally understood why it was frowned upon to date coworkers - it should be illegal to care this much. 
“I don’t know, honey.” The pet name was the kicker, allowing a tear to break the dam and roll down your cheek as he chuckled. “You seem to be pretty damn good at it, though.” You laughed too, fighting the devastation you felt at the sight of him with the fact that he was clearly well enough to still be joking. “I should have kissed you when you came for dinner.”
Fuck. “Aaron, now is not the time.” You chuckled slightly as more tears fell. This is absurd.
“I know but-” He flinched as the ambulance hit another bump. Almost there. “I might as well say it now.” You wondered if there was genuinely something wrong with him. “You’ve been all I can think about since the moment-'' He paused to breathe slightly in exertion, you giving a disapproving look as his confession took it’s toll. “since the moment you started, you know that?”
“You are dying! Please, for the love of God, Aaron. Use this energy to prevent that from happening.” Your scolding was dramatic, but your actual concern shone brightly through your ruse of sarcasm. 
“Exactly.” He was being equally as sarcastic. How on Earth did he manage this with a rapidly declining life force. “Give a dying man a chance. How unfortunate would it be if the last thing I hear before I go out is the woman of my dreams rejecting me?”
“Jesus Christ.” You shook your head in pure amazement. This was by far the most goal oriented man you’d ever met. “I’ll let you take me out if you shut the hell up and save your energy.” He smiled, letting his head hit the reclined back of the stretcher. “After you get better.” You added, reminding him that his recovery took priority. “Deal?”
“Deal.” This was probably the most insufferable man you’d ever met. “Such a good motivator.”
Scratch that. Most insufferable man ever.
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bwabys-scenarios · 2 days
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Hello dear! How are you? Could you please do Perv! Chrollo if it's not too much trouble? I haven't seen much Perv Chrollo content out there, and I'd love to see that in your writing! You can ignore it if you want, have a nice day ♡ (Sorry if it seemed confusing, English is not my first language ☠️)
His pretty girl
Perv!Chrollo x Fem!Reader
warnings: perv behavior, panting stealing, reader is mentioned to be chubby, excessive gift giving, somno, dubcon, reader is innocent and naive, breeding kink, pregnancy, bit of Yandere chrollo if you squint, Chrollo calls you princess/angel/goddess, minor manga spoilers about Shalnark
A/N: not the biggest chrollo fan but him being head over heels in love and just a big softy with his lover does do something for me.
NSFW: @lightshowerrr @jungtoast @nenggie @pannacottababy @aliceattheart @atransmuter
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Unlike most pervs, Chrollo is much sneakier with his perversion. You won’t catch him sniffing your panties or jacking off to pictures of your cute face… but you will find pairs of your panties covered in his cum in your dresser, and lots of pictures of you saved on his phone if you go looking.
Chrollo absolutely adores you, he enjoys seeing you blush and stutter when you find a particularly nasty love letter stuffed into your mailbox, or those pair of missing lacy panties folded neatly on your bed, with strange stains on them.
He first fell for you when Shalnark introduced him to you. You met Shal through the Hunter exam years ago, though you didn’t pass. Regardless, the two of you stayed good friends, with Shal making sure you stayed safe while under his care.
But Shalnark was quick to back off the second Chrollo showed interest in you. You were just too cute, with your chubby frame and pretty face. Chrollo had never really put much thought into his sexual preferences, but seeing your plump ass and fat tits was enough to awaken something… sinful in him.
After that first meeting, you started receiving little gifts from him. At first, they were just pretty trinkets that Chrollo found on his missions, but as his obsession and adoration for you grew, those little trinkets because expensive dresses and luxurious jewelry.
At first you thought it was just him being generous with you, considering your living situation wasn’t the best. You were very appreciative, your cheeks heating up and your voice small when he smiled sweetly after you thanked him.
But over time, strange things started happening that you just couldn’t explain!
Your windows would be open in the morning when you were sure you closed them last night… and what was that sticky stuff on your face?
Chrollo had gotten into the habit of breaking in to watch you sleep. In the beginning, it was because he felt such intense love and care for you that he just couldn’t bear the thought of you getting harmed in your most vulnerable state!
He’d sit at the edge of your bed, reading a book while gently stroking your cheek. It was cute, you seemed so content and happy in your sleep when he was with you. It made his heart soar thinking that maybe, just maybe he had something to do with it.
But soon those soft and innocent intentions shifted when he noticed how… revealing your pajamas were sometimes. Those flimsy little shorts and the fact he could see your nipples through your thin white tanktop had his cock straining against his pants.
You always looked so soft and peaceful, something he wanted to protect and cherish. You were the only person linking him to the normal world, where your biggest problems were paying rent on time and figuring out what to eat for dinner, while his were trying to keep his friends from dying and which heist he should plan next.
You lived in a completely different world than him, and that was some of the appeal. Chrollo had never lived a normal life, but with you, he could have some shred of normalcy. He could marry you, make you his sweet little wife and live out the rest of his days keeping you happy and safe.
But… deep down Chrollo knew this was next to impossible. He was a wanted criminal, with more enemies than he could care to remember.
He still liked to imagine it, though. You, sitting in a rocking chair your swollen belly, carrying his child. He’d come home from a heist, carry you upstairs and ravish you, making sure to be extra careful with your delicate body.
Chrollo stroked his cock to this thought, his tip gently pressed against your lips as you slept. He’d done this exact things countless times… he hadn’t been expecting you to wake up right as he buckled his pants after cumming on your lips.
“… Chrollo?”
You rubbed your sleepy eyes, then wiped at your mouth, grimacing. Did you drool in your sleep? It was too dark to make out what was on your hand… but there was just enough light to see your friend Chrollo standing there, peering down at you with a slightly surprised expression.
He quickly took on his usual calm, charming facade. “Hello, (Name). Shal asked me to come watch over you. Apparently there’s been a few break ins in town that got both him and I worried for you.”
It was all lies, but something he loved about (Name) was her naïveté. You smiled sweetly, your cheeks heating up. “Really? You came to make sure I was okay?”
Chrollo nodded, setting his book on your nightstand before sitting at the edge of your bed. “Of course… I don’t think you understand just how much you mean to me, (Name).”
You didn’t have time to react, he was already leaning closer to you. His eyes were captivating in the moonlight, reflecting the light and shining like jewels.
“You’re divine, (Name), like an angel sent from Heaven just for me.”
He cupped your cheek, his thumb brushing against your lip. “I want you, more than anything.”
Hearing this from a handsome man like Chrollo felt unreal. He wanted you of all people? It was hard to believe.
As if sensing your hesitancy, Chrollo tilted up your chin. “Do you want me to show you?”
Before you could answer, his lips met yours. He had been holding back for so long, he needed this, he needed you. You were always so sweet to him, making sure he was eating well and even coming to visit him when you could. How could he ever ask for anything more than you?
It wasn’t long before his tongue entered your mouth and his hands slipped under your shirt to grab at your perky, plump tits. You whines softly into his mouth as his thumbs ran over your sensitive nipples.
“Like that, princess?”
He gave them a soft pinch, biting down on your lip as he moved one hand to your shorts. He didn’t both with taking them off, he ripped them and pinned you down, one hand pinning your wrists and the other unbuckling his pants.
“My darling…”
His eyes settled on your pretty cunt, wet and glistening in the moonlight. Chrollo had a few one nights stands in the past, but he never felt like this before. Your pussy, all wet and ready for him was enough to have him groaning into your neck as his cock sunk into your warm heat.
He grabbed onto your hips, his fingers sinking into the soft fat. You were so cute, tears pooling down your cheeks as you blubbered incoherently, too fucked out to speak. He leaned forward and kissed those soft lips of yours, so soft and gentle with his little angel.
“Shh, just take me okay? Fuck, you’re divine, my angel, my goddess…”
With one leg over his shoulder as he pressed your bodies together, Chrollo fucked into you. He tried his best to restrain himself, but god you looked way too pretty when you came around his cock for the third time.
You clung to him for comfort and some sort of stability as he mercilessly pounded your sensitive cunt. “Pretty, god you’re just gorgeous, my sweet girl…”
By the end of the night, you were too exhausted to even speak, your pussy full of his seed. He held you now, cooing softly as he peppered kisses along your cheeks and jaw. “Did so well, such a good girl…”
From then on Chrollo’s obsession with you would only deepen. He’d marked you up, leaving love bites all over your neck and chest. You were his, and he’d make sure everyone knew that.
It wasn’t long before he had moved you away, somewhere you could be together and also under the radar. After Shalnark’s death, he became a bit paranoid that Hisoka would come after you next.
So now there you were, belly swollen with his child as he held you in his lap, his palm resting on your baby bump.
Chrollo had you, and although it wasn’t quite the life he had expected, he was still happy with it. You were here with him, carrying his baby and unable to get a way, even if you wanted to.
And that was enough for him.
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dancingmonbelum · 2 days
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simon x gn!reader
cw // deaf reader, simon being ableist, mention of hearing loss/deaf, simon being toxic.
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Communicating was hard enough for Simon, given that he wasn't a very social person. One was sufficient; two were demanding; and three were exhausting. Although that much was forgotten when he met you, the only person who was patient enough to crack that wall– allowing him to open up even to the smallest details of his life.
As time went by, the accumulated words he had said to you was greater than to anyone he had even knew in his whole life. That alone showed just how much he appreciated being heard by you, he never knew his words– his life, could be so interesting to someone to elate excitement and adoration.
But, the house– once full of spoken tales was quieted down when you found out that you're experiencing hearing loss. To the point that you could lose it forever. From there, Simon would find his words falling on deaf ears and him having to constantly repeat everything to you. Not just once– sometimes twice, and on special occasion, thrice. This moment was no exception to that problem.
"Sorry, Si, what was it?"
Silence erupted between them after the second time Simon had already repeated himself.
"Nevermind. You taken your meds yet?"
"Oh– right, let me do that right now." You went to grab the bag of medications on the nightstand that Simon had carefully prepared for you this week. But, seeing the bag untouched only made Simon sighed in response, your carelessness to this whole thing– It baffled him. 'It's like getting better was not important', he always thought to himself.
"You keep forgetting to take it."
The way you nodded to acknowledge your constant mistake ignited a flame of anger in Simon's heart– letting out a deeper sigh, calming himself in attempt of not letting it spread to his head and blow up.
"Oh, well... you know me, Si. Thank goodness I have you to remind me." You chuckled to your own words, earning a loud grumble from Simon about how it's careless to forget about things like this.
In attempt of downplaying your mistake, you avoided his glaring eyes. Hoping that he'd let it slide, again. But, it didn't work this time.
"Just– please, why're you not taking this seriously? It's like you want to go deaf." He dramatically flailed his arms around, before they made its way to tug on his hair in frustration. You don't want to believe the words he's saying right now, because you swear nothing had been this crystal clear to you since you lost your hearing.
"It's always 'can you repeat that?' with you. Why do I have to keep repeating things?"
His words would only grow harsher, and you knew you had to stop it before it worsen. But, there was no stopping Simon as he stood up from the bed and turned around abruptly to face you.
"It feels like I'm the only the one who cares about this! So, lemme ask you this– again and again, and again– why are you doing this?"
"Si, you know I'm not doing that on purpose–"
"And I'm supposed to buy that?"
"Well, I didn't ask to be like this, Simon–"
"Well, I also didn't ask to be with someone who's going deaf so fucking quickly. But, life's not always sunshine and rainbow, huh?"
It always hurts to be honest, but a part of Simon of have always wanted to throw those words at you. But, what hurts even more was seeing your face contorted to despair and guilt when he knew you heard him clearly– the only moment he wished you hadn't.
"I'm tired of this."
And with that, Simon slammed the door behind him– leaving you blanketed with the unbearable silence and the wrenching guilt of letting Simon bear with your situation.
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a.n. it's my first time writing something...
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foreingersgod · 2 days
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Can you write a CC x reader fic about reader meeting the team for the first time.
Like Caitlin forgets her practice jersey at home and you drop it off and they all wonder who you are??
Her Jersey . CC
pairing: caitlin clark x reader
synopsis: you and caitlin’s relationship has always been low key, so how will the team react when you bring her her jersey unannounced?
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you weren’t something caitlin was trying to hide, nor was she ashamed of you by any means. but she had requested at the beginning of your relationship to just keep things quiet. you were both busy people, having so many things to worry about. you with a fairly religious family who wouldn’t be very thrilled to see you dating a woman, and caitlin with a recently large following who didn’t want to bring unwanted attention to you. she would love to show you off on social media and in person, but risking the hate comments and your well being was too much of a risk.
so you guys kept your relationship low key, not announcing it to anyone at all, including caitlin’s teammates. as much as you wanted to meet them officially and as much as caitlin wanted to flaunt you and brag about how lucky she was, you knew it would be too risky to tell any one.
but your ‘secret’ relationship had its perks. you were the only one who got to know the real caitlin, the one who cherished you behind closed doors, no one else. yes, you were often sad that you couldn’t do stereotypical couple things. like going out to dinner dates, the movies, or do all the fun couples trends. but you were appreciative of what you had: late nights at your apartment, being treated to breakfast in her bed, long and steamy showers shared together. you found a way to make it work.
one day, as you were sitting on your couch after caitlin left your apartment for practice, you had noticed a bright yellow piece of cloth tucked into one of the cushions. pulling it free, you had realized that she had left her jersey at your apartment. it had probably gotten stuck in your couch when you heatedly pulled it over her head as you straddled her lap, eager to see her when she came over late after her game last night. your cheeks were heating up as you reminisced to last nights events.
quickly pulling yourself from your day dream (you could have sat there all day thinking about last night if you could) you shot a text to caitlin, asking if she needed it.
you: hey babe, i just noticed you left your jersey at my place last night, want me to meet you somewhere private real quick and bring it to you?
you watched as her text bubbled popped, awaiting an answer.
Cait <3: oh shit, i had meant to grab that. yea if you wanna come down here, I’ll grab it from you real quick.
you: want me to wait outside? just so that they don’t all see me there.
Cait <3: nah, it should be fine, i’ll just be sneaky ;)
you laughed to yourself, typing out your response
you: if you say so, see you soon 💋
and with that, you were out the door, jersey in hand and bag thrown over your shoulder.
you pulled into the parking lot, getting out and heading into the building pretty quickly. making sure to avoid anyone you may know that might ask what you were doing here. you crept through a few winding halls before you saw the open gym doors, peaking inside to see everyone huddled around talking to one another.
you stood, slightly out of view, waiting for caitlin to notice you. after a few moments, she saw you waiting there patiently, fiddling with the hem of the jersey. you were so cute she couldn’t help but smile to herself. she excused herself from the group, jogging over to the other end of the gym.
as she made her way over to you, you noticed that a few of the girls had been watching her as she left. they tried to discreetly sneak a look at who cait was talking to.
“hey, baby!” she panted, pulling you into a quick kiss “thanks for coming all the way down here”
“yea it was no problem” you smiled sweetly, hands resting gently on her chest as she kissed you again. as you pulled away, though, you felt eyes on you. the same girls, along with the rest of the team, were now staring in your direction.
cait tried to say something else to you, but you weren’t listening as you were trying to grab her attention, shaking her shoulder violently.
“what, what?” she looked at you confused.
“cait,” you nodded your head in their direction “i think we’ve been caught”
she quirked her eyebrows, still lost, eventually turning her head to look behind her. and sure enough, there they all were, cocky smirks plastered across their faces as they jokingly whistled and cheered. out of embarrassment, you covered your face in your hands, caitlin only laughing along with them.
“yea, i guess so” she grabbed your hand, starting to pull you into the gym “might as well introduce you then…if you want?”
“i guess there’s nothing left to hide so…why not” you chuckled, letting her lead you, hooking your arm with hers. she led you to the middle of the court, all the girls still curious as to who you were.
“caitlin with a secret woman?” kate laughed, smiling your way, you had heard lots about her. who’s this?”
caitlin looked down at you, hands still intertwined. she ran her thumb over yours, sensing you were nervous with all the attention on you, trying calm you down.
“YN, this is my team” she began “and team, this is my girlfriend, YN”
they all immediately smiled at you, quick to welcome you with open arms. each girl gave you a comforting hug and introducing themselves, letting you know how lovely it is to meet you and how they’re excited to get to know you better. and of course, there was some playful banter. gabbie and kate at some point asking ‘how did caitlin manage to date someone as beautiful as you?’, eliciting a shy laugh from you. but they were all so funny and sweet, you instantly felt welcomed into such a tight knit group.
“alright, can you guys try not to scare her away!” caitlin interrupted as you chatted with the team “she’s really important to me so i’d appreciate if you didn’t freak her out with your dumb ass questions”
you all chuckled, teasing her a bit more before it was time to say your goodbyes to the girls. you thanked them for being so kind to you and they told you they couldn’t wait to hang out with you more some other time. caitlin told them she’d be back, taking your hand again and walking you out to your car.
as you got back to the parking lot, caitlin beginning to open your door for you, you stopped her. “hey, thanks for introducing me, cait. i know we said to keep it quiet, but i’m glad you trust your team enough to introduce me. wether it was on purpose or not” you smiled, squeezing her bicep sportively.
“i’m glad too,” she said “i think it was finally time to do it anyways, i was getting tired of people not knowing that you’re mine anyways”
she continued “you mean the world to me and i love you so much, thank you for putting up with sneaking around for so long”
“it was for the best, but i’m really happy we can be out to more people now” you said. “you’re team was really sweet, i can’t wait to get to know all of them”
“me too, they already love you. they won’t be able to stop asking about you for the rest of practice i bet”
you both chuckled, relieved to finally have such a huge weight off your chest.
“just don’t tell them anything too embarrassing about me, ok?” you quipped.
“i don’t think there’s anything i could say about you that would be embarrassing” she said as she helped you into your car “you’re absolutely perfect”
with that, you kissed her one last time before closing the door and waving her goodbye. as you pulled out of the parking stall, you watched as she jogged back into the building, a smile still lingering on her lips.
truthfully, you didn’t think you’d be so happy to have gotten caught.
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chrollohearttags · 1 day
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thank you all for your well wishes and love, I really appreciate it. I didn’t exactly plan to go on hiatus or leave. Honestly, I was just fine, nothing major even happening in life (at least I thought so) but I ended up having an unexpected mental break of sorts. School and work has always been manageable but work has began its busiest season and this last class was a little trying so I’m guessing it became too much. I started isolating from everyone and hadn’t been very social lately. Not to mention, I’m preparing to have surgery in a few months. Truthfully though, I think I just became exhausted with this app and its nonsense..or the clock app I should say. Like I said, I’ve been working on being less combative and confrontational on here bc it’s not who I am and as I stated in my post a couple months ago, if I have to be in defense mode, I don’t want to be here. Although I’ve gotten no anon hate recently, I can see posts. I can see anons being sent by proxy of my friends and I can see screenshots of my name being mentioned in comments on apps I don’t even use. I’ve always been very passionate about my writing and I try my best to pour as much of myself into it as I can. I know people say ‘passion project’ or ‘magnum opus’ but that’s what I strive for with each of my works. I never wanna give bare minimum, hence why I deny certain anons or don’t write certain tropes if they don’t align with that purpose.
Again, I’m perfect by no means and my fics are not for everyone. However, having these straw man fics about baby mamas and drug dealers attached to me is infuriating (not bc I have an issue with them, but bc it shows some of you don’t truly read my work) With that being said, I’ve got the next two weeks off from school and I’ve been working on some stuff I’m really excited to share. My only request is that y’all start spreading more love to ur writers..show ppl that you love their works. The energy that you use to critique and throw hate, use it to be reblog and show appreciation. I’ve seen so many great writers leave this app and I hate to join them, but I’m just not going to burn myself out for mediocre feedback and diet lite racist commentary. I have Google Docs and my drafts, I’m good. Be blessed everyone <3
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3lli3l0v3r · 4 hours
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how soon is now? | part two
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READ THIS FIRST 🇵🇸
previous chapter. series masterlist.
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♡: hallway crush!ellie x uni student!reader
☆: the long-awaited second part of this godforsaken fic (lawd she’s given me trouble). appreciate y'all's patience as always, i'm a chronic procrastinator and perfectionist but what can i do. after this, i'm gonna take a break from this series. not saying i'll never write more, but wanna work on some other stuff for a while. thank you for reading! pretty please don’t hate me or show up at my house waving torches and pitchforks for this ending ok luv u gays in my phone. + a big thank you to @total-dxmure for helping me w/ some ideas for the last little bit!
♧:5.7k word count (lawd)
◇: sfw! miscommunication (sawry). fluffy moments, angst lowkey…both of yall cry at one point or another, reader has anxiety in the last chunk. modern au but joel isn’t alive in this, and they discuss it. maybe some rushed points here and there, i’m not really the proudest of this but needed to finish it anyway. potentially horrendous pacing but ok i think that’s all? idfk i may give y’all a little epilogue eventually, but don't dwell on it for the time being!
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4 months later 
Your friendship with Ellie was evolving wonderfully. You two were studying together frequently, and both your grades in the ghastly astrophysics class increased exponentially. Although that wasn't the only thing that was increasing at a rate too fast to fathom. Your crush on her. It was ripping you apart like wildfire, Ellie was proving herself to be such a wonderful person inside and out, and you were slowly but surely nearing your limit of how much it could build before you burst. A movie spin off of the Savage Starlight series had come to streaming, and Ellie had invited you to her place for a movie night so you two could watch it and discuss if it was a faithful entry in your beloved series or not. 
Dressed in some comfortable pjs and armed with snacks of all kinds, your favorites as well as hers, the time had come and you were at her door. You straighten your posture and put your hair back in place, must look presentable, then knock, knock, knock.
You could hear some faint shuffling behind the door, then a few thudding steps until she opened it for you. She was dressed in an old, worn Nirvana tee, and red checkered pajama pants, damn she looked good, even when she was dressed with less effort than usual. 
Ellie looked so pleased to see you, leaning on the doorframe. Why did she have to look so good all the time? “Hi! I’m so glad you came, ooh this is gonna be so fun.” She invited you in and took the snacks from your arms and placed them inside her room. “Oh yeah, I also put up some decor too so we can get into the Savage Starlight spirit.” Her eyes were wide and twinkling and when she stepped aside to let you see, she really had made her room so welcoming and comfortable.  
The lights were all off save for LEDs around the room’s perimeter set to a dreamy violet hue, sparkly fairy lights draped around the frame of her bed which was set up so cozily. Her laptop propped up on a pillow, the sheets arranged in a nest-like formation with two spaces for each of you. She even had a few dinosaur stuffed animals placed in a row so they could watch too.
You were so flattered she'd do that and make the atmosphere so nice for the two of you, you could just tackle her in a hug and never let go.
The thing is you were scared she'd perceive that as weird and you didn't feel like dying of embarrassment, not today at the very least. Save that for another day, maybe. Oh, how you wanted to squeeze her so bad. Your imagination had to do for now. 
She was standing there so proud of how she arranged her room into a mini theater, and you beamed at her, silently thanking her for making it so dim so she couldn't see your flustered expression in full.
“Ellie this is amazing!!” “You like it?!? These stupid lights kept on falling off but since this is an important occasion for us both I didn't give up. All for our love, Daniela.” She manipulated her voice and waved in the air with two fists, closed her eyes and put her hand over her heart, just being as dorky as ever.
Oh gosh, hopefully it wasn't going to be awkward. Sure, the two of you had grown to be great friends, but were you that close to be just, relaxing in her bed together? As long as your imagination didn't run too wild and you didn't overthink anything, it was going to be a fun time. Just two pals watching their favorite series, nothing more, nothing less.
She threw herself in the mess of comforters with a grunt, and saw you were hesitating. She patted the empty space next to her so you'd join her and the movie night could begin. “C’mere, don't be shy.” Well, no shit you were going to be shy. Suck it up. 
You crawled in next to her, unable to look her in the eyes, while she got everything ready and rubbed her hands together excitedly. “Man, if they do our girl dirty, we’re gonna have to give someone a knuckle sandwich, you with me?” Her jokes and easy going vibes always made her so fun to be around, but unfortunately for you, you fell harder for her every time. “Yeah, Ellie. A knuckle sandwich for all of them.” You retorted with a chuckle. Once both of you were settled, she pressed play and so it began.
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As the movie played, the two of you laughed and debated every plot twist, cursing the directors for not portraying your queen Daniela how she deserves, and snacked on candy until your stomachs hurt. It was going so well, the friendly hang out both of you needed after so many responsibilities in life. An escape. Occasionally sneaking peeks Ellie’s way, she was just so marvelously pretty. The shadows dancing on her features, illuminating her side profile perfectly, her long eyelashes and button nose, who wouldn't get lost in admiring her?
Of course you could never fully relax around her, or forget the crush no matter how hard you tried to push it down and just be friends. Every time she shifted next to you in the bed you felt your heart seize and the butterflies in your stomach turn into hornets. At this rate, they were going to turn into whole birds for fuck’s sake.
Nearing the end of the movie, the two of you were so invested, so captivated in the events, totally spellbound.
But then the film took a more emotional turn that wasn't in the comics. Daniela and her father had an absolutely vicious argument which left the two of you speechless watching it, which luckily got quickly resolved right after the two characters had a near-death experience together.
You weren't one to get emotional over silly, trivial things like fiction, but the way they showed this entire sequence was nothing short of heart-wrenching. You snatched up one of Ellie's patterned pillows and hugged it tightly to your chest, because cuddling her would have been much too bold for the likes of you. But what you’d give to do that instead.
Seems you were not the only one touched by the scene, as you began to hear some light sniffling from next to you. Looking over at Ellie made your heart break further into a million pieces. She looked lost in thought with thin lines of tears streaming down her plump, freckled cheeks. 
You froze for a moment, not knowing the limits of your relationship with her and how you could comfort her best. So you cleared your throat and mumbled, “That was so sad…” You watched as she avoided your gaze and wiped at her face with the collar of her t-shirt, “Yeah, this kind of stuff hits me, feels a little personal y’know.” She has never opened up to you about her struggles before, in the short time you’ve known and gotten close with Ellie, it always seemed like she was there to help you out, not the other way around. This could be your chance to show her that you are there for her as well, and that she can always count on you.
Being curious but at the same time not wishing to pry too much into her private affairs, you quietly asked with the most gentle tone of voice you could muster,” You don’t have to, but I’m here if you ever wanna talk about it, Ellie.” You watched her out of the corner of your eye, anticipating however she reacts.
She stayed quiet for a beat before sighing deeply, and whispered, “We were having a fun time, I really don't wanna be a burden.” Her voice quivered, heavy with emotion, what could possibly be troubling her this much? You wanted to take all her pain and bear it yourself, she didn't deserve any sort of misfortune ever.
“You can tell me, don’t worry about anything, okay? I just want you to be all good.” You were comforting her so smoothly, putting her needs and well-being first as if it was always second nature, as if you two have known each other many lifetimes over, two souls meant to float together through the journey of life. Well okay, that was probably a bit much.
There were a few more seconds of silence as you let the question ring in the air, not wanting to press and jeopardize your cherished friendship with her. 
You continue observing her, almost seeing the gears turning in her mind, the scales of reason tipping to one side then another, as she contemplates whether it’s worth spilling. Eventually, she does.
She roughly rubs her face then pauses the film playing on her laptop, sighs and huffs, before beginning to speak her story, all while looking away from you.
“Okay I don’t like to talk about this kind of stuff, but I trust you. A whole lot.” Your heart fluttered and face heated up at her comment, but you ignored it because there was something much more important on the table now. She continues, speaking quietly but quickly to get it over with. 
“So, when I was a kid, I was an orphan and to be honest I don’t really remember my early childhood much at all, but when I was 14 my adoptive dad, Joel, took me in. And it’s been just us since then.” She stops to take a breath, then resumes reluctantly. “And well, we’ve had a pretty rocky relationship for a good chunk of these years, I never knew how to express my gratitude to him, y’know, for basically saving my life, numerous times at that. He was always my rock, and I appreciate him every day. He taught me so many things, and I don’t know what I would’ve done if he hadn’t come around. I was pretty hard to deal with back then.” She reminisces with an exhale of air, and you see her eyes refill with tears. “But I’m really bad at expressing that, and will kinda, lash out I guess when I’m met with kindness or tricky situations.” 
You nod, listening patiently, and place your hand on her shoulder ever so gently, as a result making her raise her head to give you a small smile. 
Ellie chuckled deeply, it almost sounded forced, then started to slowly wrap up her story. “And it seems that scene kinda hit me, because the wounds are still raw, or whatever.” 
She sniffles again but doesn't respond, so you delicately inquire, “What do you mean?”
“He died last year.” Oof.
“Oh my, Ellie, I’m so sorry, are you-” She interrupts your condolences. “No need for that, I’m fine. Well, taking it day by day y’know. In the beginning it was really tough, I was angry at everything but most at myself for being such a jerk, and now I can't turn back time and tell him all I wanted to.” While you take a moment to think about what to say, she hums to herself and remarks, “That actually felt good to get off my chest, I haven't told anyone about it.” She lowers her voice so it’s barely a whisper. “Didn't have who to tell.”
“Sure you're okay? I'm always here for you.” You find your voice back to soothe her some more, to which she smiles at you again, only this time it actually seems genuine. There's definitely a lot of pain behind it, but the relief that she doesn't have to deal with the burden alone was evident on her face. 
“Yeah, thanks. I guess I hadn’t processed anything, and that part of the movie made it all come out, damn I hate emotions sometimes. But I appreciate you being here for me. You're really easy to talk to, and I feel better now.” 
And you would've never in a trillion years anticipated what her next move was going to be, you were so caught off guard, the realization lagged and it didn't immediately register. 
She moved to sit on her knees in front of you, then threw her arms around your torso in a tight embrace. She hugged you. Clutched you so firmly against her own body, her strong hands landing in the middle of your back, where she rubbed in a circle. She smelled so nice, and was as warm as one of her heated stuffed animals. 
Due to the surprising nature of the motion you let out a dumbfounded gasp, then returned the hug allowing yourself to rest your head on her shoulder. You wanted to stay like this forever, until the end of time, it felt nicer than you could've ever imagined.
The thought crossed your mind that she could feel the buzz pulsating through your body, you swore your heart was slamming against your ribcage so hard it was going to grow wings and simply fly right out of your chest, and join hands with hers.
While you were occupied with the way she felt against you, so close like this, chest against chest, and how your cheeks blazed with an inferno hotter than a thousand suns, you heard her grumble against your ear. “Not gonna make that same mistake again, and from now on, I'm gonna tell the people I appreciate just how much they matter to me.”
You were much too stunned to speak, but she wasn't. “So thank you again.” She finishes her little speech and pulls away first, but not before giving you one last big squeeze and letting out a noise of contentment as she does so, then shuffles over to her previous spot in the bed. 
Not taking notice of the way you were at a loss for words, or about to set the room on fire with how flustered her actions made you. Her obliviousness was a common theme, it seemed. She clears her throat and claps, grabbing some more candy for herself, then says happily, “We still got the rest of the movie left, then we can do whatever after. I really wanna know how this ends.”
Naturally, your head is spinning, but you were too caught up in your thoughts to continue paying attention to the movie as much as you were before.
You felt awful for her, yet somehow, felt as if your crush on her had quadrupled in size yet again. You saw through the guard she put up, she broke down those walls and opened up to you. You were honored she trusted you so much, and only hoped that would never change. That, coupled with how remarkably good hugs she gave, has led you to the realization that you were properly in love now, things had gotten real. This was trouble. You vowed to always be there for her for whatever she could ever need, you'd drop everything to teleport by her side if you could. 
Goodness, what were you possibly going to do now, instead of giving you the ick, or helping you with the task of getting rid of that stupid infatuation you were so plagued by, every experience felt like a deliberate ploy to just make you fall even further for her. You couldn't help but wonder just how much love a person can feel for someone, because it only continued to grow. 
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A couple days later.
Sitting in the cozy campus cafe, you were revising all your coursework. It was giving you a massive headache, but the warm and hazy lighting aided it a touch. The walls had cute plastic vines crawling up and down, and even though there was chatter all around you from the other patrons, it wasn't a distraction and in fact acted as some sort of white noise, everyone was talking in a nicely muted tone, it all blended to create the perfect ambience. 
You waved down the waitress to get yet another cup of coffee, your third one of the night, that’s healthy, before trying to resume with your aggravating studies. 
To your dismay, you've used up all your brain power for the evening, and could not force yourself to continue no matter how hard you tried. Maybe a few moments of peaceful people-watching would get you back on track?
You sip on the hot drink, then lean back against the comfortable booth seat to begin scanning around.
In one corner directly on the opposite side of where you were sitting, there was an elderly couple. They looked so in love, dressed in matching outfits, feeding each other as they shared a dessert, holding hands and conversing with a hushed tone, nodding and looking into each other's twinkling eyes. So cute, you hoped that was going to be you in the future. 
Moving your line of sight to watch beside the couple, there was another student, their books and computer were scattered across the wooden table, piles of pens and pencil cases near falling over. They seemed to have fallen asleep, unmoving with their head laid tiredly across their crossed arms. The sight made you chuckle out of familiarity, you really felt for them, studies were hard. 
But then a sound caught your attention. A bright, husky giggle fought its way over the ambience, reminiscent of a certain someone. 
Your heart jumped, your ears perked up and you immediately became insistent on scouting her out among the patrons, this was a necessary mission. 
Feeling highly nervous and antsy, you try to drown out the noise and focus on where she could be, and quickly enough, you find her.
Ellie in her natural habitat, she was so mesmerizing. Sitting far away from you where you could get a good view and hear snippets of conversation if you focused hard enough, but not close enough where she would notice your shameless gawking. She was sitting with a group of a handful of her friends, who all appeared to be gossiping and laughing with each other, you couldn't tear your eyes away.
Her smile was gorgeous, and you knew that, but there was something about just being a spectator which fascinated you, you could stare at her all day. Her energy lit up the entire room, and made your heart race.
Snapping out of your trance and trying to not be so obvious with your staring, you tried to look occupied, tried reorganizing your notes while still keeping an ear out to listen. Occasionally glancing over as  well. Yes, it's true that eavesdropping is wrong, but you couldn't help yourself. Anyone would do the same, right?
The group's passionate discussion was making you extremely curious however, and you strained to hear what they were talking about. Among the muffled chatter, you heard a woman’s voice say the word crush, then an outburst of laughter, the loudest guffaw from Ellie herself. 
You felt the budding panic start to form in your chest momentarily, but swallowed the lump forming in your throat and took a sharp intake of breath to calm yourself at once. They could be talking about anything, there's no need to jump to conclusions just yet. Fumbling around your bag for your headphones to listen to some of the song recommendations Ellie had given you, you’re led to discover that they are, in fact, dead. Of course. 
Despite any and all wishes to stop eavesdropping on them and mind your own business and abide by what they say, ignorance is bliss, you simply couldn't. She was too damn captivating. Like a painting in a museum, like a statue at a town’s center, one that people stopped in their tracks to admire. 
The way her eyes sparkled and gleamed under the warm lighting, her cheeks tinted a faint rosy hue from the exertion of laughing so hard, her sweet smile. She was too perfect. God, you hated crushes, being infatuated with someone to this degree couldn't be healthy. But what could you do? Just look at this angel.
Fidgeting nervously while still being entranced by the group of friends, you heard a man’s voice say the words “there’s no way”, followed by Ellie howling even harder than she had the whole time you've been watching them, and punch him forcefully on the shoulder. 
The curiosity was going to swallow you whole, it was like a car crash you couldn't look away from. You felt your palms begin to tremble and sweat with worry, and anxious assumptions of all kinds running through your mind, were they talking about you? No, they couldn't be, you're just overthinking it. Relax, relax, relax.
You tried your hardest to control your breathing and soothe your spinning mind so you wouldn't spiral, until you heard something that absolutely shook you to your core.
The same woman from before, not Ellie, in a highly teasing tone of voice said your name.
You felt frozen, this couldn't be happening. All your worst fears were coming true at this very moment. You had to get out of there right away, this was too much to bear. Curiosity really did kill the cat didn't it, you wished you didn't comply with the morbid desire to know everything. 
Panic-stricken like a deer in headlights, near hyperventilating at this point, the final straw was all three of them erupting into laughter simultaneously, with Ellie through gasps, going "oh come onnnn”.
Yeah that was it. Hot tears started pricking your eyes and you vigorously blinked them away before they started streaming down your face, as if you needed to be humiliated even more. You felt sadded, torn apart, betrayed. Sick to your stomach too. This time, for once, you really thought you had something going for you. From your perspective, albeit through rose-colored glasses, you were convinced she was being genuine with you all this time. How could you not be? 
The late night study sessions, the air thick with tension, the conversations draped in a sleep-deprived haze, the walks to class together, the first fated interaction, the looks you two shared from across the huge lecture hall; the looks where you two just knew when to share a glance, was all of that fake? Was she leading you on purposefully because her friends thought it was funny, that you were a joke?
The tears threatened to spill and your stomach twisted painfully with the world-shattering realizations you were just served with, and you angrily shoved your belongings in your bag.
You were too caught up in your panicked frenzy to notice how disruptive you were actually being, your textbooks thumping and keychains jingling, but frankly didn't care enough to meet the numerous pairs of eyes observing your misfortune. Who could blame you, your whole world and everything you've known just crumbled before you. 
You slung your bag over your shoulder noisily as a choked sob made its way up your throat, then speed-walked out of that cafe. You were never going to be able to go in there again unfortunately, shame, their pastries were so good.
Right as you tried to step through the door it got stuck, because the universe was being really nice to you today, and as you tugged on it to get it to open, you heard the friends lower their voices, but you could still make out a jumble of hushed words sounding something like, “oh no, is that…” Great, great, fucking great. The only solution to this was to change your name and ride up to Seattle for goodness’ sake, maybe throw yourself into a volcano as well just because. 
Finally the door swung open after what felt like eons, and you stumbled outside into the chilly autumn air, feeling goosebumps spring up all over. Where you were going, you didn't really know. This cafe was new, so it would take some time to figure out navigation so you stood dumbly in the middle of the front lawn as you tried to orient yourself.
Once you think you've got it, you start your agonizing trek back to your little room, screaming inside of your head, until you're harshly yanked back mid-footstep by a vice grip on your arm. What the fuck was it now. 
Ellie. The sight of her only made your tears increase in quantity and the emotion in your chest tighten. She looked a little disheveled, her eyes round like saucers, and she was gripping onto your arm so hard as if you were going to run away. You wanted to, but she still had a magnetic hold on you, even after all that turmoil. 
Talking was painful with how much you were trying to keep a hold of yourself, but you managed out a choked, “Ellie, what?” 
She looked befuddled, shaking her head ever so slightly and scrunching up her eyebrows, her gaze boring right into yours and following whenever you tried to break it and look elsewhere. Her hold on your arm softens, and moves to rest on your shoulder. “What do you mean what? You ran outta there like you were chased by a lunatic or something, what the fuck happened?”
Her tone startled you a little, why did she care so much? Noticing you jolt, she sighs and mellows her speech. “Sorry, what I mean to say is, I'm worried. Are you okay?” 
You worried her? Heat rushed to your cheeks as you fought to break the increasingly uncomfortable eye contact, and all you could do was shrug. Your lip started quivering and you were losing the fight of keeping your composure, how wonderful. Despite everything she was being so sweet, way too sweet. You felt helpless at this point. 
The words started pouring out of your mouth like a waterfall, you were properly sobbing now, falling apart and hiccuping as months and months of emotion spilled over. 
You were blabbering about how you loved the friendship you formed with her, but how hurt you felt that she’d laugh about you, every possible insecurity just tumbled out of your lips, as you wiped at your teary face and runny nose and glanced at Ellie ever so often. 
She let you talk for a bit until she saw you get even more upset, that's when she got a step closer to you, squeezed both your shoulders gently and kept a stern tone of voice to get your attention.
“Hey, hey, it’s okay, slow down, I don't know what you're saying.” But you couldn't stop crying. Bottling up emotions was definitely a bad idea, because they were bound to burst sooner or later and unfortunately, you reached the breaking point. Sucking in some unsteady breaths as an attempt to regulate yourself, she was watching you patiently yet still cautiously. 
Your voice was weak and shaky, but you were slowly feeling a little better. For the first time during this interaction, you meet her eyes. Why was she always so pretty? She was sculpted just to spite you, you were convinced. Tears welled up in your eyes once more, but you blinked them away. “Um…Ellie…” She nodded expectantly, wanting to know what was wrong. But you could not complete your sentence as yet another bout of ache washed over you.
To snap you out of it once and for all, Ellie grabbed your face. The sheer disbelief of her action was enough to stop your tears luckily, and she held your gaze while she used her thumb to swipe at the stray teardrops adorning your cheekbones. You wanted to die, what was going on?
Once your panic was replaced with fluster and stupefaction, she let you go, but was still standing really close to you. You felt jittery from it all, nervous, embarrassed and in love and everything under the sun all at the same time. You stared at her, then looked away, then looked at her plump pink lips which were set in a questioning pout, then back up to her sympathetic greener-than-grass eyes, fuck, fuck, fuck. The intensity of the situation had caused any sense of judgment or critical thinking to long, long gone, and so your body moved on its own and before you had a chance to form a solid thought or process what you were doing.
Smooch.
You kissed her. 
Mouths colliding like magnets as you held onto the sides of her face, fireworks igniting in every single part of your body. Cradling her jaw as you closed the space between you two, the hurricane of emotion coursing through your veins as your lips caressed hers, and time felt like it had stopped. The months and months of excruciating pining had all led up to this very moment. 
She instinctively kissed you back, you felt her breaths fanning your face. You were about to ascend to another dimension. Lingering against her for a little longer, you forced yourself to regretfully pull away, and laughed loudly at her state now. 
Her lips were parted and she was gawking at you, you had broken her completely. Your own heart was working overtime, you were panting from the adrenaline of the situation, and could only hear the blood rushing in your ears. 
She seemed to be in a coma, doing nothing but staring and breathing. You punched her arm playfully, your voice breaking.
“I’M IN LOVE WITH YOU, YOU FUCKING IDIOT.” 
An frustrated confession tore itself from your throat, even the world's strongest iron bars couldn't contain it. You wiped at your face with your sleeves, a sad attempt to clear it of the residual salty tears that never once stopped their journey out of your eyes.
The sadness had left you, and you felt lighter now, truthfully. Had no idea how you would ever face her again after all this, but at least the cat was out of the bag and you had gotten that off of your chest. You both stood there in silence, now what was wrong with her? What a dork. Sucking on your teeth and kicking a pebble on the ground you admitted finally, “So, yeah. That's what's been troubling me, I guess.” 
Her pupils were dilated and huge, as she scanned all over your features, her mouth opening and closing as if she was having an internal battle of what to say. She stood there almost appearing miles more shocked than you somehow, she looked as if she was going to have a heart attack and die on you, you found it funny, but concerning at the same time. 
You watched her for a moment more, before accepting your disappointing fate and bidding her a goodbye. You cleared your throat. “Okay then. Cya in class. Bye.” You turned on your heel and began the walk back to your room, but this time for real, and didn't look back at her. Even if you wanted to, you couldn't, you wanted to leave this whole fiasco in the past. That chapter was closed, it seemed. 
The only thing left to do now was call your bestie, Abby. She has been your cheerleader through this whole thing, through all this time, gave you advice and brought you back to Earth, and you needed her support now more than ever. 
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Right after you reached your dorm she was there in no time at all, after receiving your distress call she scrambled into action, with chocolates and boxed wine in hand. Maybe you should just date her instead at this point. Who else was left for you?
You talked and talked and talked to her about everything for so long, talking the night away just like old times, and she sat and listened to your every word, patted your back reassuringly as you weeped into her shoulder, then tucked you into bed at the end of it all. She left only when she was sure you'd relaxed fully.
You didn't fall asleep quite yet, and stayed awake thinking, pondering life and staring up at your ceiling. It turns out angrily confessing to the girl you've been infatuated with forever by impulsively kissing her and letting the whole campus know it was a tiring thing after all. You really did cause a bit of a scene, when you thought about it in hindsight.
But what was this all like from Ellies perspective? You wished you could know what she thought, or at least gotten some sort of formal response. Her friend storms out of a cafe, kisses her and screams she's in love with her? It's certainly understandable she'd feel a little lost, or under great pressure to give you an answer. Her reaction did make sense though, after being met with such a shocking revelation. Wow, now that you were really thinking about it, she still did not know why you ran out of the cafe like that. You wished you could turn back time and redo this day, shame that wasn't possible. Were you two ever going to have a discussion about this, or had you just lost a friend for life. Oh no, you pushed that thought away as quickly as it appeared, you didn't have an ounce of energy left over to dwell on it.
You'd work out what you were going to face her next later, a very well-deserved visit to dreamland was way overdue. You felt your eyelids grow heavy and your breathing slow, so you turned on your side and snuggled into your bed, eventually falling into a deep, deep sleep.
Meanwhile on your bedside table:
Bzz, bzz, bzz. 
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lovely taggies: @lasting-lover @radioheadfan699 @sophie-thefrog8 @machetegirl109 @ellieschair @aouiaa @wavesgocrash @tangerinngi @elliesbitchvenus @amiorca @dinaissoprettyoml @rxreaqia @camicocom1a @elliesexual @smelliewilliams @boobdrug @writing-on-a-bathroom-stall @bready101 @yourelliewillms @ap3arll @bunnyrose01 @elliesactualgirlfriend @paranoiero @sakiigami @4ftergloww @ellstronaut @vqxen @desireesfics @lez-zuha @dyk3ang3l @iluvellie0089 @tphmnv @seraphicsentences @seaseasalts @biblically-accurate-ellie @deliriousrn @pxterpfx + a very special tag to @fleshunger hehe :)
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astraystayyh · 3 hours
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Breathe
hyunjin x photographer!reader. friends to lovers with so so much tension and pining. hyunjin is too pretty (yet again). suggestive in the end and reader is wearing a dress. inspired by Bathtub hyunjin.
thank you hyunjin yet again for being my eternal muse and inspiring this brainrot. wrote this while listening to All mine by plaza so.. please enjoy <333 feedback is highly appreciated 🫶🏻
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Is it possible to drown in the depths of your emotions, until breathing becomes a forgotten process, one that eludes each one of your senses?
Yes, you believe, if standing before a vision of ethereal beauty, as you are now, all encapsulated within Hwang Hyunjin’s being.
The camera slightly shakes in your grasp as you linger by the threshold of the bathroom, eyeing Hyunjin’s silhouette submerged in the waters. He’s sitting inside the bathtub, fingers running through his raven locks, awaiting your return.
He doesn’t seem to notice your presence, nor do you wish him to. Instead, you remain silent by the door, allowing yourself a few seconds to savor the intoxicating aura he exudes.
See, he isn’t doing anything particular, nor is he adorned in anything enticing— a simple white shirt and matching linen pants. And yet, his presence fills the air, compelling oxygen particles to flee from your being, leaving you transfixed, unable to do anything but gaze at him.
“I can feel you staring,” he remarks casually, his eyes still drawn before him as he leans back, tapping the edge of the tub with his ring-clad fingers.
Your heart pulses against your ribs, a dance that the organ knows intimately by now, one that Hyunjin alone can orchestrate. It isn’t the first time he’s had this effect on you, it is a familiar territory you first breached when Minho introduced you to him.
Hyunjin is a friend, but his hands find your waist more times than deemed platonic, and you like his touch much more than you’d like to admit.
“I'm assessing my subject, you know?” A faint grin dances upon your lips as you approach the bathtub. Hyunjin is doing you a favor— you just booked your first photography gig, and your client only has one condition: to shoot it in a bathtub. You wanted to translate your vision to life beforehand, and Hyunjin volunteered to help you.
“And how do I look?” he inquires, his smile a sugary dream that coaxes forth his left dimple. You place your camera gently on the countertop, bending down to inspect him up close.
His eyelids glisten with the golden glitter you delicately applied earlier. His skin is dewy, glistening underneath the warm lightning, and his lips drip crimson, courtesy of the cherry chapstick you carefully tapped into place.
There is always a myriad of visions that come to your mind when you think of Hyunjin— a blazing fire where each flame surges higher towards the heavens, a burning dance of passion and confidence; or a delicate red rose standing resilient in an empty field, vulnerable yet unwavering in its strength.
And now, you see a siren, beckoning mortals with a voice of beauty, ensnaring them with its hypnotic allure, much like he captivates you in this moment.
“You look nice,” you settle on saying, and he playfully pouts, his thumb grazing against your wrist lightly, akin to the delicate flutter of a butterfly's wing. “That's it? You never compliment me properly.”
“Someone’s gotta keep your ego in check,” you shrug, grabbing a dozen of roses and scattering them all around his body. You nod, satisfied with the outcome, finally retrieving your camera.
“Let's start with a simple shot, look at the camera, as you would when seducing someone.”
Instead of looking at the lens, Hyunjin's gaze finds yours first. With a deliberate slowness, his eyes trace the contours of your form, sending delicious shivers down your spine. His pupils dilate, his gaze darkens, before he reluctantly tears his eyes away, finally shifting his focus to the camera.
it takes you a few beats longer to find your voice once again.
“Hold still, one… two… three,” you murmur, capturing a few shots, pausing for a few seconds to admire the warmth of the light bouncing off his honeyed skin. “Perfect.”
“Me or the picture?” he teases, a mischievous glint in his eyes, and you roll yours in response.
“The photographer.”
“You’re right, you're perfect,” he replies simply, and you're momentarily taken aback, your eyes widening slightly. He notices, a small smile playing on his lips as you grab his hand to adjust his pose.
“You aren't allowed to speak anymore,” you declare, guiding his index finger to his lips while his head rests on his other curled fist. He grins, before his expression morphs into a smoldering gaze, one that blankets your skin in hues of red from its sheer intensity.
“Look at me this time,” you instruct, and he nods obediently, directing his gaze towards you. Though your eyes remain fixed on the lens, you can sense the intensity of his gaze piercing through you—suddenly, the white dress you're wearing feels too sheer to contain the flames ignited by his stare.
“Mm,” you hum in approval as you look at the result. A sweet realization washes over you as you notice the subtle shift in his gaze— does he know his eyes unconsciously soften when they land on you?
With each click of the camera, your nerves dissipate, replaced by a growing confidence as each shot turns out exquisitely. They look worthy of gracing billboards worldwide, a privilege of working with a model as beautiful as him, one who portrays emotions as if they were crafted solely for him to feel.
“Good, let's try an overhead shot now,” you instruct, slinging the camera strap around your neck before climbing into the bathtub, legs on either side of his body. You’re hovering over him as he gazes up at you, his fluttering eyelashes echoing the erratic beat of your heart.
Your eyes briefly trace the contours of his now-translucent white shirt, a veil that delicately clings to his form, accentuating the sculpted lines of his physique—the arc of his v-line melding seamlessly into the fabric of his trousers. He possesses the body of a masterful dancer, a muse Michelangelo himself would have revered.
“Take off your shirt,” you suddenly request, and though your words are met with a quirked eyebrow, he obliges effortlessly. With a fluid motion, he peels the garment from his frame, sending it sailing across the bathroom's expanse.
“Good?” he questions but you remain silent because words have suddenly become beyond your grasp. Your client's request for a portrait suddenly feels inadequate and you almost itch to cancel it, because you know it won't exude the same beauty as Hyunjin’s. For each fiber of his being flusters you, makes you hyper aware of your every pulse point and how they all come together to chant Hyunjin’s name.
“Look up at me as you lean back,” you finally say, positioning the camera directly above his head. With each click, your heartbeat speeds up even more at the sight— collarbones and arms bathed in the play of light and shadow, his long, wet hair cascading over broad shoulders, and worse of all, a faint smirk that graces his placid face, as if he's aware of how breathtaking he looks in this moment.
“Should I do this?” he asks, picking up a rose and brushing its dewy petals against his lips. You swallow hard, nodding meekly before swiftly capturing a few more frames.
Emotions twist you into a peculiar being, yearning for your very soul to liquefy, transforming into the water droplets adorning the rose's petals, longing to caress Hyunjin’s lips too.
Hyunjin suddenly straightens his posture, hands coming to rest gently on your calves, fingers dancing along the hems of your dress with a delicate touch.
“How’d I do? Do I look good for you?” he asks and your knees weaken beneath you, his words rendering you a merciless leaf, swayed by the fiery winds he commands, with his words, with his touch, with his eyes, all solely on you.
“For me?” you echo, and he nods, his hand moving languidly up and down your leg, pausing delicately at your knee.
“Mm. You're the only one I want to impress.”
Your response escapes your being breathlessly. “And why is that?”
“Didn't you ask me not to speak?” he grins, running a hand through his hair. Swiftly, you place your camera on the counter before kneeling down, your thighs now brushing against his own.
“Speak,” you command, and in an instant, he seizes your waist, drawing your body close until you're straddling him, legs enveloping his middle.
“Say it again,” he whispers, and you thread your fingers through the strands of his hair, gently tugging at the edges until his head tilts back, exposing the expanse of his neck.
“I said…” you trail off, leaning in until your nose grazes the warmth of his skin.
Being this close to Hyunjin isn't unfamiliar to you; your interactions have always teetered on the brink of almost-kisses, your bodies drawn together like magnets, two halves of an orange yearning to reunite.
Yet, this moment feels different, much more fateful, as if the universe has granted you one final opportunity—to finally ignite in passion or perish into ash.
“Tell me. I want to know,” you urge, your voice a whisper against his skin, laden with unspoken desires.
“Because... I like you a lot. So much that you're the only one I think of all day. And I want you to like me too. I feel like I need it to breathe.”
His response catches you off guard with its vulnerability, the intimacy it drapes on this moment. The water envelops your intertwined bodies as your hands find solace atop his chest, his rapid heartbeat seeping into your palm.
“I always forget how to breathe around you,” you confess, a sheepish smile gracing your lips. The grin that blooms on his face is radiant, casting a glow on the room that cannot be replicated by artificial lighting.
“If you forget how to breathe, I'll give you all my oxygen,” he promises, his thumb tracing gently across your cheekbones. You see the sun in his smile, feel its warmth in his words that burn you. “I think it always belonged to you anyway,” he murmurs, his lips hovering tantalizingly close to yours. “I think... I wanna give you back what's yours. Would you let me, pretty?” he asks, his voice a tender plea.
And amidst all the planets you know and the countless universes that may exist, you cannot fathom a single one where your answer would be anything but yes.
“Please,” you whisper, and his lips crash against yours in a fervent dance.
Your lips part before swiftly meeting again, and you close your eyes, surrendering to a world where all your senses converge to breathe Hyunjin in—your hands exploring the contours of his chest, your mouth savoring the sweetness of his lips infused with your cherry chapstick, your nose inhaling his scent, a delicate blend of vanilla and tobacco pulling you into a dizzying dance, your ears catching the gentle rhythm of his breaths and the faint thud of his heartbeat, all resonating within you.
And you don't need your eyes to see Hyunjin; he's indelibly etched behind your eyelids from all the time you've spent admiring him before.
“Fuck," he whispers as he draws back, “I should have kissed you much sooner.”
“Mm?” you grin, intertwining your hands behind his neck, “Was it that good?”
“You have no idea what you do to me, don’t you?”
“Then show me,” you grin, a playful glint in your eyes.
His gaze sparkles with mischief, his lips curling into a self-assured smirk, his hands finding your waist once more. Breathing is not necessary it gives you Hyunjin in the end.
“Oh, I will.”
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animehideout · 8 hours
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LOVE IS THE MOST TWISTED CURSE OF THEM ALL
PART 13 ( FINAL )
Gojo Satoru x Fem! Reader
A/N: Omg can't believe that we reached the end of this ff! I started this fic on Dec 12, 2023 and today it's ending on April 19, 2024 🥺.
Thank you everyone for Being part of this journey, thank you for reading, for your support and for your patience! I truly appreciate and you guys truly saved me! I love every single one of you 💗💗💗.
I hope you enjoy this final part as well, and stay tuned more fics are coming 🔜
I'll post an analysis of this fic to emphasize the meanings, morals and life lessons included, if you're interested of course!
Again thank you so much 🙏🏻🫶🏻
Warning: SMUTTT MDNI 🔞 NOT PROOFREAD ⚠️
If you're a Smut Asmr enthusiast you can click on this YouTube link : Gojo Kissing Asmr to add to the experience while reading.
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In your house, the place that now you can confidently call a home. Crazy how when two souls bind they make any cold and abandoned place, alive and warm.
Satoru closed your bedroom door as both you got inside, his blue eyes never leaving yours, his hands circled your waist, as you walked backwards.
"You gave me a hard time y/n! I thought you hated me for real!"
With hazy eyes that seduced the shit out of him, you spoke,
"I had to give you a taste of your own medicine Satoru"
"Oh God, this attitude gets me fucking hard for you" he blurted out, growing more impatient.
You smirked as you saw how desperate he was,
"Too excited, Satoru?" you teased,
"Mhm, I know you are too!" he answered, pushing you on the big bed and hovered over you, taking you by surprise on how fast he was, "if you allow me my princess"
You nodded, your mind racing with wild thoughts that contradicted your innocent face, you can't wait to feel him inside of you, filling every inch that's screaming for him.
"It-its my first time though–"
"Don't worry princess, just trust me"
..
He leaned down pressing his lips on yours, moaning into the kiss. He stripped out of his clothes in front you, you watched him fully naked before your eyes that scanned him, your inside throbbing, growing impatient wanting him to fill the emptiness inside you. Now he helped you out of your clothes. He paused for a moment to admire your body that was under him. His blue eye glistening with love and lust. His large hands reached to touch your neck, chest, abdomen and then rested on your thighs, spreading your legs.
You closed your eyes as you felt the tickling sensation of his long fingers running on the soft skin of your inner thighs.
"Open your eyes princess, keep your eyes on me"
You nodded and did as he said feeling the heat,
"Mhm"
"Fuck... look at you princess so wet for me"
You gasped a bit when you felt his breath on your pussy. He admired you for a bit, the his tongue started working on pleasuring you down there.
You felt the need to grab into something, so your hands found their way to his hair, pulling on it.
"S-shit" you moaned,
as he continued to eat you out,
"Let it go baby", he whispered still devouring you till you cane around his tongue.
"Fuck"
"You taste so good baby, daamn" he exclaimed as he now slowly pushed himself inside you. "F-fuck baby" he groaned at your tightness.
"S-satoru"
"T-tell me when you w-want me t-to move baby" he groaned wanting to thrust into you so bad.
"You can move" you whispered
He slowly started moving, looking at you making sure you felt comfortable. You wrapped your arms around his neck, pulling him into a passionate kiss, while he pulled out and pushed back into you. You whimpered from the new sensation that made you crave him even more.
"You okay?"
"Mhm f-faster"
He smirked, finally getting the green light ti pound you, each thrust sent both of you on cloud nine.
"Satoru don't stop" you moaned rolling your eyes back.
Your words and moans only motivated him to keep going faster and harder leading him and you to your climax.
"Shit, I-I'm close S-satoru" you shut your eyes tightly.
"Fuck—together baby"
You rocked your hips up, both of your hearts pounding out of your chests till both of you released at the same time.
"Yeaah oh fuck baby"
He laid next to you on the bed for a few moments looking into each other's eyes then started giggling as he pulled you to his chest.
"you did so good princess, I love you so much"
"I love you too"
.....
"Here! lemme help you clean up!"
"Thanks" you smiled softly
"What about we watch a movie and cuddle till we fall asle–.. are you okay?" he asked as he saw you zoning out.
"I–I'm" but you couldn't finish your sentence, feeling out of breath.
"Y/n what's wrong?" asked Gojo worriedly,
"I- I can't breathe–" you stuttered,
You quickly put on your panties, and grabbed Gojo's shirt that was thrown on the bedroom floor and put it on, hurrying outside for some air. You clutched your chest, coughing violently, each cough racked your body making you stumble into the wall and random objects.
"Baby- y/n lemme take you to Shoko" he said trying to grab you, but you flinched away, you were too sensitive to any touch,
"No-no"
"Baby please wait" he pleaded, still fully naked,
You swung the house door open, rushing to the street trying to inhale fresh air as much as possible but it was too hard to do so, making effort to breathe. Barefoot, only in Gojo's shirt that became a dress on you. Desperately gasping for oxygen. Cold sweat trickled down your forehead, your vision blurred, dizziness taking over you, your world spinning trying your best to take control over your body that betrayed you.
Gojo rushed outside as well, he had to put his pants on before chasing after you. He couldn't leave the house naked.
"AAAAAAA" you screamed your lungs out, as your eyes scanned your surroundings,
"Y/N" yelled Gojo, fear taking over him, he hugged you tightly, you buried your head in the crook of his neck.
With a flick of his finger he exorcised the curses that were surrounding both of you in the area, making them disappear in a matter of seconds.
"A-re those–?" you mumbled, feeling your heart beats get steadier and your breathing back to normal.
"Yes, curses! wait– you can see them!??" he asked, his eyes widened when he realized you saw the curses.
"Wait!!! I saw them?!!" you looked at Gojo in surprise processing the fact that you can see curses now.
"Does that mean–"
"My curse broke!?"
"Your curse broke!?"
both of you exclaimed at the same time, looking at each other in surprise.
Gojo hugged you tight, spinning you around.
"Omg baby finally!!! We have to go to Jujutsu High now!" he added,
"Wait– can we go tomorrow? I don't think I'm ready to face them, besides I'm still processing it" you said looking uncomfortable.
"I know, but I'm sorry princess, we don't have a choice! it is a must that we inform them now! All of us have been waiting for this"
You nodded in defeat, after all informing them is totally the better option than seeing other curses and not knowing what to do beside screaming.
You went back to your house, took a shower and put on some proper clothes on while Satoru made a phone call to Principal Yaga.
"You ready sweetheart?" he asked.
"Yeah ready" you answered with a deep breath.
"Hey hey babe, look at me! it will be alright. I'll be by your side the whole time okay?" he said cupping your cheeks.
• At Jujutsu High •
You hesitantly sat on the chair, the higher-ups eyes fixated on your every move, making you feel extremely awkward.
"So Gojo Y/n, Satoru told us that you were able to see curses tonight and that you had trouble breathing and dizziness?" said one of the higher ups
"Mhm yes right, I couldn't breathe and I had a weird feeling as if I'm being choked or suffocated and when I went out for some air I've seen 3 curses surrounding us"
"And you're aware of what that means?"
"It means my curse broke— right?"
"Correct! how did it break though? what did you do to break it? It's been months since taking your vows why did it break tonight?" he asked
"uhm" you didn't know what to say,
You and Satoru looked at each other, and you can see the smirk on his face, then you realized that the vows were not the ones to break the curse, but true love bonding; by making love.
You can feel your cheeks warm up, a red tint colored them. Satoru lowered his head trying not to burst into uncontrollable laughter when he saw how shy you got from your realization.
You stuttered not knowing what to say, it was really inappropriate to tell them that sex with Gojo broke it. With a small chuckle Gojo looked at them and said,
"Don't worry about it, it just did, I helped her with it"
"It is official then. Y/n ! starting from today you're officially a Jujutsu Sorcerer welcome to our society"
You kinda felt proud that now you're part of something and not just a purposeless human being who doesn't even know themselves. But at the same time you felt terrified at the fact that you've got hella responsibilities on your shoulder starting from tonight.
"Thank you" you muttered, fidgeting with your fingers.
"But I must tell you, a lot of special grade curses will attempt to attack you and kill you–"
"Not only curses but also the other sorcerers" said one of the other higher ups
"other sorcerers? aren't all sorcerers serving the same purpose, killing curses?" you asked
"Well, as you can see, not all sorcerers are good, staring from your case with Mei Mei, there are many of them and more worse than her. You're considered both a balance and a threat to our world y/n" he explained
You felt extremely uneasy and uncomfortable, too much pressure, too much information to process. Feeling very overwhelmed more than ever. Your forehead dripping with cold sweat.
"I know you've already told me that the prophecy said I'll bring balance but how? what is my task exactly?" you asked, questions making your head spin.
"You're the strongest now, and to remain that way you mustn't die, it's all in your hands from now on, the Jujutsu Community depends on you for protection from the Ultimate danger"
"The ultimate danger?"
"You know our task as sorcerers to exorcise curses and protect the normals, those who can't defeat themselves"
"Yes?"
"Well the prophecy didn't only mention you, it mentioned also the danger we'll face, it is mentioned that an ancient and dark sorcerer will try to invade humanity with curse energy leading an evolution, a world full of sorcerers and curses"
"So the non sorcerers are at risk?"
"Exactly but also the sorcerers"
"Is it Sukuna that will carry this deed?"
"No! not Sukuna"
"Huh? isn't he an ancient dark–?"
"He is a special grade curse, but it's not Sukuna's plan to make the world full of sorcerers that want to exorcise him, Sukuna's goal is to be the ruler, gather followers and execute those who do not submit" explained Satoru
"Then who's this sorcerer?"
"We don't know! but all what we know that you'll be the first one to confront him" added Principal Yaga.
You gulped, being the first one; without experience on how to use your Jujutsu, and to meet one ancient strong sorcerer that has destructive plans is kinda crazy and it made your heart go crazy. What if you're not capable of defeating him? What if you disappoint the Jujutsu Community that has faith in you?
All of these questions burned your throat, but you can't ask them, you'd be seen as weak and scared and you definitely can't let them know that.
"Alright then" you simply said, then excused yourself and left the meeting room.
Gojo followed you, he can sense your discomfort.
You stood in the balcony, joined by your husband.
"It's not an easy task you've got" he started,
"Ugh thanks for reminding me again Satoru" you rolled your eyes at him.
"Come on Y/n! you'll get used to it" he whispered pulling you close to him by your waist, his big arms surrounding you in a protective way.
"I don't even know what my technique is Satoru"
"Oh but I do!"
"You do?"
"Yes, your technique was already foreseen, its a heritage from a very ancient sorcerer, the last sorcerer that had it was like 200 years ago. That sorcerer maintained balance in our world for years, emphasizing safety for both sorcerers and non-sorcerers, there's a reason you won against me during our fight, it blew my mind that you succeeded in laying a punch even though i had my infinity on. Your technique is copying others techniques just by touching them while it is activated. You can use their techniques against them"
"Wait what?? How do I know? And what if I'm fighting against curses ? how am I supposed to defeat them since not all curses have a technique, not all of them are special grade or first grade after all?"
"Good question, actually you have a strong burst of curse energy that could easily destroy curses, you just need to learn how to activate it"
"So I need a lot of practice huh? A long way to go? What if I'm not ready yet to face that sorcerer?"
"You don't need practice, you're a natural at it, you just need to try and believe in yourself, in your abilities, in your technique, that's how you're gonna summon it, you've got the spirit of the great old sorcerers in you, you're capable of everything Y/n just search inside of you... you're capable of things you don't know you're capable of"
His words were very comforting and motivating, you can feel your tense muscles relax slowly, nodding your head at his words.
"I believe in you y/n" he added, kissing your forehead.
You closed your eyes taking into the moment.
You can't deny that his words boosted your confidence and your ego, it's finally your time to shine.
"Embrace this new version of you Y/n!" he added kissing your temple.
"–I wanna meet Mei Mei" you said out of the blue.
"Huh? meet Mei Mei?"
"Yeah! I'm not allowed?" you raised your eyebrow.
"No not like that, you're allowed of course, it just was unexpected, I thought you didn't wanna see her face"
"You're right, but you said I have to embrace this new version of me so maybe it's time to speak my mind and confront others instead of hiding" you said confidently.
"Damn I love this mindset" he said with a smile.
"Oh but trust me you're next" you said teasingly.
"Wait what?" he said panicking.
"Come on Satoru, you know I'm not fully done with you"
"But I thought you forgave me" he said pouting.
"Oh I did but it's about time I forget, come on take me to Mei Mei"
You were serious though, you didn't forget what he'd done to you yet. It's true you love him with all of your heart, and he does too but you felt that ignoring him for a week wasn't a proper punishment.
......
Gojo took you to the prison where Mei Mei is staying. He unlocked the door stepping inside.
"Gojo? you came!" said Mei Mei but het smile dropped instantly right after she saw you take a step inside her cell.
Satoru stood by the door, while you moved closer towards her, you can tell by the look on her face that she felt something different coming from you, something intimidating, something strong, not the usual you.
"Y/n y–"
without saying anything you interrupted her with a slap across her face. You slapped her with all your might earning a gasp from her and from your husband, his eyes widened, he didn't see it coming.
Mei Mei looked at you in shock, and said in confusion,
"You slapped m—"
"Oh I did! I could've done more but I just chose not to"
"You—"
"Uh uh no no! I'll talk and you will listen Mei Mei, Im here to speak my mind, to say the things that I couldn't say before because I thought my words won't make any difference, and even if they don't now I really don't care because I'll speak any way"
You paused for a second, leaning towards her, your eyes piercing through her soul.
"I hope you're enjoying your time here in this cell, reflecting on what you had done and most importantly realizing that you deserve to be here. I hope you realize that all of us pay for what we do. Because sooner or later we won't escape the universe's justice. and I hope you realize that what you've done to me is terrible, I hope you feel the guilt every day and I hope it eats you up for trying to ruin what was already ruined life, for trying to kill me. You know something Mei Mei I allowed you to hurt me because I didn't know I can protect myself, I didn't know I was capable of stopping someone from harming me both physically and emotionally because I was weaker than all of you. But now I do and damn it feels great. You and Toji will both suffer. See all of what you do to others will come around to you and you can't hide from it so enjoy your stay here" You said,
and started walking towards Gojo who was leaning against the door frame proud of you happy that you finally realize your worth and potential.
You held his hand and then looked back at Mei Mei,
"Oh by the way Mei Mei, your attempts to tear us apart only drew us closer so thank you for that" you added,
then walked out hand in hand with Satoru making sure to lock the door.
"That was hot" exclaimed Gojo
"Oh you think so?"
" I know so"
He grabbed your chin making you look up at him,
"I know that you'll punish me anyway, you won't let it slip but I'm lucky that you didn't hate me I was worried really worried, you were so cold so distant as if I wasn't visible to you. So I'm going to accept any punishment from you as long as you don't hate me"
"you know I had to do it"
" I know I know I deserve to be treated like that, but I thought we had no hope I thought our marriage was over the moment I was hoping to fix things so I'm glad you gave me a chance to make it up for you to be a real husband so.you can punish me now but promise not to leave me cuz if you do then I'll drown again"
"You know something; we all make mistakes and wr are the ones who decide to fix them before it's too late or to ignore them but learn how to live with the consequence"
"You're right, I don't wanna live with the consequences, I wanna live happily with you Y/n"
You looked up at him, you can see the softness in his eyes and the way he speaks to you, you can't help but fall more and more deep for him.
"So please tell me that you won't leave me" he pleaded, a hint of worry visible in his tone.
He was feeling really overwhelmed, he knew you being the strongest now means you're at risk in every step you take, that you're targeted by many who want to haunt you down. He was worried that he might lose you, and besides he was afraid you might not be able to forget what happened in the past and end up hating him, even though you said you loved him. He was dealing with mixed feelings, trying to fix many things at the same time and trying to protect you but he knows the higher ups won't allow him to.
"Please-"
"I-" you started to speak but got interrupted by no other than Megumi,
"Oh Gojo finally!!!"
"Megumi?" you and your husband said at the same time.
"Oh Y/n sensei!"
"Is everything okay?" asked Gojo
"Nah it's far from being okay !! it's Yuji!!"
"What happened to Yuuji??" you asked worriedly as you walked towards Megumi
"Sukuna took over him, and we don't know where he is now"
"What do you mean Sukuna took over him?" questioned Gojo
"I was in my room sleeping then I heard a noise outsiders when I looked outside of the window I thought it was Yuji but when he looked back it was Sukuna, when I went down to stop him he was already gone"
"Shit shit shit" you said, "we need go and look for him...now"
"Baby—wait, you can wait in our room I'll go and look for him" said Gojo
"What do you mean Satoru! Yuuji is in danger and you expect me to hide in our room and do nothing to find him? I'm going with all of you, now!"
Megumi looked at Gojo as you started walking away,
"What's wrong? you look worried ?" said Megumi
"Yes Megumi yes, you know she's in danger and we don't know what to expect"
"You can't change fate Gojo! it's what the prophecy said, I'm sure Y/n will manage , you should be the first one to put your faith in her! besides she's got time till her curse breaks and she'll practice being a sorcerer"
"She's a sorcerer now"
"She's gonna be ok— wait what did you say?"
"Her curse broke tonight, she's announced a sorcerer by the higher ups"
"Oh"
"Mhm"
"I can understand your worry now, but she's gonna be fine! she's strong!"
"I know, come one let's go" said Gojo with a sigh...
.....
• Time skip •
A couple of hours are now separating you form the break of dawn, Gojo was trying not to leave your side the whole time you were searching for Yuuji, he was always keeping a protective eye on you, scanning your surroundings making sure no one around is trying to harm you.
All of you; students and teachers met up again in Jujutsu High, to find another plan.
You were in the school garden, sitting on the stairs waiting for the higher ups to call for an urgent meeting, your heart aching for Yuuji, he's the sweetest boy you've ever met and you were genuinely scared for him, all what you were thinking about was him, you were hoping to find him and save him from Sukuna's hands, Gojo was discussing things with Principal Yaga most likely about you and the students trying to figure out where he could possibly go.
....
"I see you're alone y/n. Stargazing as usual?" said a deep voice that made you stand up quickly from your seat.
"Ryomen Sukuna" you said and started walking towards him, "You better leave Yuuji alone" you threatened.
"Wait wait, it's true then, they weren't lying , I can feel it emitting from you" he said as he exhaled,
"What and who are you talking about? "
"Your curse energy, pretty strong, it's intoxicating"
"Yeah you were more than excited to fight me when I become a sorcerer, here I'm in front of you, I'll fight you so you better let go of Yuuji"
"Uh no, I know I said that, but I'm no longer interested in fighting you, someone else will"
But before you could ask him, you saw a group of people entering Jujutsu High, coming your way.
"Good luck beautiful, for now I'll watch through this brat's eyes" With those last words, sukuna switched back to Yuji,
"Sensei, sensei run!!!" said Yuuji
"Yuji-Kun are you okay?" you asked worriedly grabbing his forearm
"Yes I am, let's go we need to get inside and find Gojo sensei" he started pulling you away,
but you knew this time there's no running away, thia fight is yours. As much as it terrified you, you can't run away.
"Yuji calm down, go and find Satoru and the others...trust me" you reassured.
"Itadori Yuji, Sukuna's vessel, whats up with that look on your face? still grieving over Junpei?" said a long haired guy,
"Mahito" said Yuji through gritted teeth.
You looked between both of them, the sooner joined by your husband who rushed to tour side, still not aware of those who stood in front of you.
"Y/n, Yuji you're here!? are you okay? did Sukuna do something? where did you go?"
"He went to talk to these bastards" answered Yuji pointing at them,
The moment Gojo turned his head to look at them, his eyes widened, his heart dropping to his stomach, a shocked expression displayed on his face as if he saw a ghost,
"S-suguru geto?" he stuttered
"Geto?" you repeated
"Long time no see Satoru" spoke this so called Geto with a gentle voice,
You looked between both of them in confusion.
"Isn't he dead?" you asked out of the blue.
"That's not possible, I killed you" spoke Satoru, his eyes still fixated on the man in front of him.
Sooner you were joined by the other students, Nanami, Utahime and Principal Yaga.
All of them stopped in track the moment their eyes met Geto's eyes.
"Geto?" they said in union.
"I think it's an insult to call me Geto" he said, and walked forward his finger gripping a thin string, opening up those stitches on his forehead revealing his true self. "You can call me Kenjaku"
"Kenjaku?" said the others in union, eyes widening upon his reveal.
You were the only one confused,
"Who the hell is Kenjaku?"
"The ancient sorcerer, mentioned in the prophecy?" explained Nanami
"So I'm gonna fight him? fight a brain or what exactly?" you asked and pointed at him, genuinely confused.
"I see you brought all of them curses with you?" said Gojo
"You can say we work as a team Gojo Satoru, I hope you're not pressed that now you're no longer the strongest" exclaimed Mahito in an offensive tone trying to get in Gojo's nerves
"Is that guy a curse?" you asked Nanami,
"Yeah he is"
"He looks h-human"
"Deceiving right? I look human, but I'm not one, little one. Oh Nanami ready for another battle, I wasn't finished with you last time"
Nanami remained calm but you can see his veins popping out on his neck and temples. The presence of Mahito annoyed him to the core, he might be the most hatred curse out there, more than Sukuna himself. He's just an annoying bitch who likes to play games on others.
"We're here for only one reason, to kill Y/n so move and make it easier for all of us" said Kenjaku.
You can feel your heart jumping out of your throat, no one is able to save you now, you're the one to save you. The prophecy is now a reality and there's no escape from it. It's your fate, it's what you were born for, you existed this whole time just for this moment and you have no other choice but to win this fight and bring balance once again to this messed up community. But a surge of courage took over you, as if you weren't alone, feeling another kind of presence lingering around you.
"You can try and kill me..Kenjaku" you threatened and moved towards him.
And the battle started.
Gojo against Jogo, Nanami and Yuji against Mahito, Nobara and Megumi against Hanami, Inumaki, Panda and Maki against Dagon and You against Kenjaku.
Kenjaku summoned curses with a flick of his fingers, sending them swirling towards you like malevolent spirits hungry for your death. You moved with grace, your movements fluid as you deftly dodged the curses, each one hissing and snarling as it sought to tear you apart. Your moves were natural, a result of years of training in martial arts. You haven't used any curse energy yet. Not sure how to do it, how to summon your energy.
"Just search inside you" you remembered Gojo's word. .
With a deep breath, you tried to focus, looking in front of you as Kenjaku sent one of the curses running towards you, you were focusing, pressing your lips together as the curse was getting closer and closer, but you stood your ground, trying to trust yourself this time.
The moment the curse got right in front of you, inches away from your face, as if the time stopped and started moving slowly. The curse exploded. A burst of if energy left your body.
You successfully summoned that power and now you can feel it take over you, running through your veins. It felt great, you felt unstoppable, powerful and undefeated. You can now exorcise those curses.
With each burst of energy you felt yourself growing stronger, instead of feeling drained, you felt as if you were feeding of the death of those curses who's curse energies faded into the air.
.....
"Next" you said as you looked directly into Kenjaku's eyes, who was hesitant to summon another curse.
"You think you can win against me? I'm no ordinary foe. I have been living through centuries of dark knowledge"
"Then prove it, you're nothing without those curse that you summon" you challenged.
You did trigger him, you actually looked down on him, making him appear as weak. But he didn't know that it was part of your plan to offend him and make him try to fight you. He didn't know about your technique yet so he wasn't careful with his next move.
He ran towards you, trying to lay a punch on you, but it was easy for you to dodge it. In a moment of daring, you lunged forward, your hand reaching out to grasp Kenjaku's cloak. Your skin touched, and in an instant, you felt the surge of power as Kenjaku's own curses turned against him. You can feel yourself taking control, and you were able to manipulate the curses inside Kenjaku, making them respawn no matter how hard he tried to stop you.
The very creatures he had tamed now obeyed your command, their twisted forms holding him down as you stood there looking down at him.
Hanami, Jogo and Dagon were already dead but Mahito was still alive, playing dirty tricks on both Nanami and Yuuji.
But ince you overpowered Kenjaku, everyone stopped in tracks, waiting for you to finish him off and kill him.
You were about to do it, but stopped the moment you felt a presence lingering in the air. It was a warm presence, comforting one it was similar to the one you felt around Gojo, Nanami and your students.
"Maybe it's him" you whispered to yourself.
You looked up, your eyes meeting Gojo's sad eyes. By the look on his face you knew he wasn't ready to witness his bestfriend get killed again, even though it wasn't really his bestfriend but it was his body.
In that moment, you discovered something new in you. You closed your eyes hoping that what you're about to do actually works and don't make a fool of yourself instead. You started focusing, summoning spiritual forces that you didn't know existed within you.
"I know what you're trying to do, but in order to do so you need to sacrifice someone you know that right, if you're trying to kill me to bring Geto back then it's not possible, you'll destroy the body" said Kenjaku out of breath.
"They didn't lie when they said you're ancient, I can tell now.. I have to sacrifice yeah but not necessarily a physical one, I do things differently, it will be a soul, and it's yours" you said with a dirty smirk.
You shut your eyes tightly, tracing Geto's soul energy that was felt. Using a secret and unusual ritual you resurrected his lost soul.
You summoned Geto back, Kenjaku's presence was slowly fading into nothingness, Geto's soul taking over the body once again. Everyone watched his body on the ground, slowly twitching fighting to gain consciousness.
Your eyes shifted to Mahito, you started walking towards him, your eyes darkening as if you were possessed , empowered by ancient souls of old shamans. By your aura, now everyone can tell why you're the strongest.
Being arrogant his whole existence, Mahito actually thought he stood a chance against you after witnessing how you finished off one of the greatest sorcerers across the centuries. He attacked you, thinking he was fast, he out his hand on your shoulder but in a split second before he can actually think of his next move you did the same and placed your small hand on his chest;
"Idle transfiguration" those words left your mouth smoothly, and you watched how his body exploded under your soft touch.
Silence fell over the place, witnessing how you destroyed Mahito easily as if he was nothing.
"What the hell?" said a honey-like voice,
Everyone looked around and it was Geto standing, trying to understand what happened.
"Satoru?" he added softly,
"Suguru" said gojo and ran towards his bestfriend,
He hugged him tightly, unable to process that he's alive and standing right in front of him. Unable ti believe he was real. You brought geto, you brought his bestfriend back, your heart ached for the years full of pain and regret Gojo had to endure, for the nightmares that visited him every night. You smiled to yourself as you saw both of them hug each other hoping that the nightmares will finally leave him alone.
"Suguru, this is my wife, Y/n" said Gojo introducing you to his bestfriend,
But before you could react or say anything, you unexpectedly fell on your knees, the world around you spinning, you over used your curse energy for a beginner. Summoning Geto's soul back took a lot of effort but it was all worth it.
"YN!!!"
.......
You woke up in the hospital, you can feel every bone in your body hurt like a bitch. You looked around, many smiling faces were looking at you.
"SENSEI WELCOME BACK" yelled Yuuji happily.
"Shush Yuji you're so loud, she just woke up" said Megumi in an annoyed tone.
"Baby, are you feeling better?" said Gojo holding your hand, his thumb caressing your soft skin.
"Satoru! mhm I'm fine" you whispered tiredly,
Your head was pounding and you felt really sleepy.
"Ehm your family came to see you baby" he added,
"What?"
You looked at the other side and then you saw your family sitting there in the corner, hesitantly trying to start a conversation with you.
"Mom? Dad?" you said in confusion, not expecting to see then after all this time.
"Come one guys let's give them some privacy hm?" said Gojo pushing his students out.
"Satoru! can you stay please!" you spoke softly, not wanting to stay alone with them cuz you know it might be awkward and you felt too weak and needed your husband to support you.
The others left the room and now you were laying on bed, Gojo holding your hand and your family trying their best to find the right words.
"Yn, my dear we're glad you're okay" begun your mom.
"We were extremely worried about you, when we heard that you had a fight with Kenjaku we thought that you got hurt" added your dad.
"You grew stronger Y/n! we're ready proud of you" said one of your siblings.
You looked at them then at Gojo, you didn't know what to say, it was really awkward. Your family did hurt you the most, and you were expecting them to apologize not to casually show up at the hospital.
"I don't know what to say, I really don't" you spoke, trying not to cry.
"Yn!! we know we failed as parents, we didn't treat you fairly, we messed up and we didn't realize then that it affected you, you always seemed strong, silent.. you didn't show that you were hurting because of us, you seemed normal—"
"Just because I don't speak about it doesn't mean I'm not feeling it mom!"
"We're so sorry about that my sweet Yn. I wish we can make it up for you"
"How? by being present now? after abandoning and neglecting me for years? I know, you came to see me just because I became like you; a sorcerer not because I'm your daughter right?"
"No no baby no, you're our daughter, our sweet Yn! we confess our mistakes, we mistreated you, and you didn't deserve that, not even a bit. I wasn't a good mother, I should have asked you how you felt, I shouldn't take your silence as an answer"
"We failed you Yn and you have every right to cut us off your life. But just know that we love you, and we realized our mistakes really late. We thought that you were living your best life when you got married, we didn't know about the abduction we didn't know about your suffering..and it's our fault because we should've reached out" explained your father.
"We should've been there for you, but just know that sorcerer or not, we love you for who you are Yn" added your mom trying not to cry, but a tear betrayed her. They started walking towards the door,
"We'll let you rest, Gojo take good care of her" he said his voice cracking.
"Wait!" you said,
"I know you messed up, you did hurt me the most, you made me feel neglected, different, weak and pathetic. You were the reason I found comfort in isolation rather than with you. Now I don't know if you mean this apology or not but I don't wanna cut you off. Family remains family whether we love it or hate it. Maybe it's kinda late to try to fix things with me, since the damage is already here in me. But I do forgive you, you fed me and provided a shelter for me when I was a kid, and I can't forget about that" you added in a sad tone but deep inside you were happy to see them again and to hear them apologize.
"Oh baby" said your mom and hugged you, joined by your father and siblings.
Satoru watched with a smile, he felt bad for you. He was ashamed of what he did, he didn't know you felt that way, he didn't know you felt so alone. He didn't know you were neglected by your own family.
"Come on, Gojo" said your mom
"Yes son in law, join us in this family hug" added you dad pulling Gojo as well.
.....
Now you were alone with Gojo, your family is at Jujutsu High with the rest if the teachers and students preparing for a party that your husband had planned as a surprise.
*knock knock*
"Oh he's here! come in" said Satoru
The door was pushed open and it was Geto. You got into a sitting position.
"Hello" he said softly,
You smiled and nodded as he took a seat next to Gojo.
"Are you feeling better?" he asked,
"Yeah I'm fine thank you, what about you? how are you feeling?"
"Alive"
"Suguru wanted to see you and check up on you, he's a shy person tho, just like you.. I think you'll get along well" said Gojo jokingly,
"Thank you for- I don't know what to say, from bringing me to life again, even though I don't deserve it—"
"I think everyone deserves a second chance!" you reassured.
Geto smiled,
"Thank you, then I'll make sure to make the best out of this chance.. I won't fall into the trap of my old mistakes that got me killed" he giggled,
"What now you're gonna tease me for that?" said Gojo rolling his eyes,
"Nah Satoru, I know I deserved it, I was a jerk with that mindset and ideology"
"Oh I'm glad you realized that now"
You looked at both if them giggling at how they started bickering.
"Thank you Yn you're the reason I'm reunited with my best friend once again, thank you for giving us this chance to find each other again" said Geto truly grateful,
"Everyone deserves a best friend" you smiled,
"I thought you wanted to punish me, but you ended up bringing my best friend back, you always amaze me, I don't deserve you Yn, you're too kind for this world, even though a few hours ago you were completely ruthless with Mahito".
"That bitch totally deserved it" you exclaimed.
"Oh that attitude I fucking love it" said Satoru and pressed a kiss on your lips,
"Ahem, so I'll be in Jujutsu High" said Geto clearing his throat, feeling like a third wheel.
"Yeah we'll be there in an hour"
...
• Time Skip •
As you stepped into Jujutsu High, hand in hand with your husband Gojo, you blinked in surprise as you took in the sight before you; tables adorned with delicate flowers and twinkling lights. In front of you, stood your friends and family, gathered together to welcome you. But it wasn't just any celebration – it was a second wedding party.
Gojo got on one knee and looked up at you, you raised your eyebrows in confusion.
"S-satoru what are you doing?"
"Baby, we didn't get to celebrate our wedding properly. We both hated it at first, it was forced on us, we weren't happy back then, but now..now we are! With time we realized that getting married was the right thing to do, not for the prophecy no, but for ourselves, you summoned a buried part of me I didn't know it existed, a softness, a feeling I was carving for years but wasn't able to experience it, till you made it possible. I fell head over heels for you Y/n and I'll continue to love you till my last breath. Y/n will you marry me again?"
Tears welled in your eyes, it was too emotional. On one hand, you felt a surge of gratitude for the effort your family and friends had put into creating such a beautiful moment, a memory you would cherish forever. And on the other hand, your husband Gojo, you realized how much you love him, and that he's the one you'll be spending the rest if your life with, you complete each other, and you need each other.
"I do, and I'll never leave you" you said and at the same time you answered the question that he asked you yesterday but wasn't able to answer him because you got interrupted.
Everyone started clapping and cheering for you, as he spun you around and gave you as long passionate kiss, the sun glowing above you all.
You spent the rest of the day and night celebrating, chatting together, everyone got along, and you for real got along well with Suguru, you were joking together and making fun of Gojo, joined by Shojo who was the happiest, the smile never leaving her face. A smile that she missed for years. You brought their memories to life again and helped them to make new memories as well, memories they'll remember for a life time. Nanami, is now more open, no longer annoyed by Gojo but rather more grateful for the beautiful chaos around him, the chaos that used to annoy him, now all their laughter and loud voices are music to his ear, it made him feel less lonely, it made him realize that life is worth living if you're with the right ones. Your family were there as well, they were Yuji's victims, he couldn't stop talking to them on how amazing you are, and how you helped him as a teacher.
What a night, full of laughter, love and joy.
...
You looked at Gojo who was sleeping peacefully beside you, you kissed his cheek and then out on a jacket and walked outside. You wanted to watch the sunrise. You wanted to see the merging colors, the way the sun rays will take over the darkness and shine up the world announcing a new day ahead.
"Going somewhere?" asked Gojo in a sleepy voice , yawning.
"Nah just here waiting for the sunrise"
"Oh I thought you're escaping me" he said and circled his arms around you in a protective and firm way.
"Me escape you? come on don't be silly! I know you won't let me leave"
"Of course I won't! you belong here, you belong to me, to my arms, once you're locked here there's no escape"
You giggled, pressing a kiss on his neck.
"Wanna get a better view if the sunrise?" he added.
"Hm?"
Without answering you, he used his teleportation skills to get you up on that hill where he found you that night where both of you confessed and shared your first kiss.
"Damn I gotta get used to you teleporting me everywhere" you joked,
"We'll get a better view from here"
You laid your head on his chest, taking into the moment and started speaking softly,
"You know sunsets used to be my favorite, I used to prefer it over sunrise"
"Any specific reason?" he asked, wanting to know more on what's going inside that head of yours.
"I wanted my life to end, I wanted that for years, so I kinda related to the sunset. Convincing myself that endings can be beautiful too, just like the sunset, trying to romanticize death, make it less scary. At least if I didn't live beautifully then I can die beautifully. But now I can relate more to the sunrise, I no longer wanna die, not now at least, I wanna live- my life now feels like sunrise a new beg—"
"Beginning- a new beginning" said Gojo interrupting you "I understand that feeling very well"
"How?" you asked,
"You broke my curse too, you broke it by another curse, or at least what I used to believe was a curse"
"What curse?"
"Love Y/n! Love is the most twisted curse of them all...." he paused and looked at you and then added, "But even if it's a curse, I still wanna feel it, as long as it's with you. I'd let my soul burn so you can feel my warmth, you've made my life a heaven cuz you're the greatest blessing I've ever had in my life" he leaned down a kissed your forehead.
"Satoru—"
"It was meant for us, we were meant to be together. Both of us experienced different things but ended up feeling the same thing; loneliness. I was the most wanted, feared and respected even by my enemies, I was up too high but too lonely, in the contrary, you were looked down even by your own family and ended up isolating and feeling the loneliness for years. That proves that what you felt, what you had been through is not your fault, it was never your fault. We were on opposite ends of the spectrum but ended up dealing with the same. But when we found each other, everything changed, I felt alive, I felt that I have a purpose in life, a reason to wake up each morning and feel excited and thankful that I'm breathing.. You saved me Y/n! You saved me from myself, from my loneliness. You just made my black and white life, colorful, you put an end to my nightmares... I love you."
"I love you too Satoru" you said, a tear of happiness rolling down your cheek.
Both of you kissed, as the sun light glowed on the horizon, announcing a new day, a new beginning, a new intake of oxygen and a new chapter. .
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Unwanted: Chapter 23, Undressed - Pt. 2
Pairing: Bucky Barnes x Avenger!Fem!Reader
Summary: When your FWB relationship with your best friend Bucky Barnes turns into something more, you couldn’t be happier. That is, however, until a new Avenger sets her sights on your super soldier and he inadvertently breaks your heart. You take on a mission you might not be prepared for to put some distance between the two of you and open yourself up to past traumas. Too bad the only one who can help you heal is the one person you can no longer trust.
Warnings: (For this part only; see Story Masterlist for general Warnings) Language, slight mentions of drug use; mentions of human trafficking, poorly translated Russian ( @miriamnox, I need you!)
Word Count: 391
Previously On...: You devised a plan to start buying drugs at the strip and pretend to use them to get intel. Sam is hesitant, with good reason.
A/N: Two parts today, since this is so short. Get hype!
NOTE! The tag list is a fickle bitch, so I'm not really going to be dealing with it anymore. If you want to be notified when new story parts drop, please follow @scoonsaliciousupdates
Banner By: The absolutely amazing @mrsbuckybarnes1917!
Thank you to all those who have been reading; if you like what you've read, likes, comments, and reblogs give me life, and I truly appreciate them, and you!
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The plan was surprisingly successful. Well, it was in the beginning, anyway. You’d managed to do a fair job of faking being blitzed well enough in Kozlov’s presence to pick up some useful intel. A few days after you’d first started buying, you were in his private lounge, “tripping” as Kozlov spoke to a few of his men. “Nachal'stvo nedovol'no tsiframi, kotoryye prinesli posledniye neskol'ko devushek,” he said in Russian, too cocky to think any of the women around him could understand what he was saying. The bosses aren't pleased with the numbers the last few girls have brought in. “Oni slishkom pokhozhi na krek-shlyukh, chtoby za nikh mozhno bylo platit' prilichno.” They look too much like crack whores to fetch decent prices.
“Chto zhe oni ot nas khotyat, boss?” the man you’d silently dubbed ‘Henchman #2’ asked. What do they want us to do, then, boss?
“Prinesite mne svezhikh devochek,” Kozlov said. Bring me fresh girls. “Molodyye devushki, khoroshen'kiye devushki. Devushki, kotoryye ne vyglyadyat izmuchennymi. Oni prinesut nam boleye vysokiye stavki, i zmei ne budut tak sil'no dyshat' nam v sheyu.” Young girls, pretty girls. Girls who do not look used up. They will bring us higher bids and the snakes will not breathe down our necks so much.
“YA nenavizhu etikh bossov, boss,” #2 said. I hate these bosses, boss. “Oni nikogda ne byvayut schastlivy i vsegda trebuyut ot nas vse bol'shego i bol'shego. YA ne ponimayu, pochemu my ne mozhem likvidirovat' zem seychas. U nas yest' klub; nam bol'she ne nuzhna ikh pomoshch'.” They are never happy, always demanding more and more of us. I do not understand why we cannot eliminate them now. We have the club; we do not need their help any longer.
Kozlov laughed mirthlessly. “Pozhaluysta, Dmitriy, no ty byl by durakom, yesli by popytalsya. Eti lyudi gorazdo boleye zhestoki, chem vy mozhete sebe predstavit'. A dazhe yesli udastsya ubit' odnogo – chto oni skazhut? ‘Otrubite odnu golovu, i na yeye meste vyrastut yeshche dve.’" You are welcome to it, Dimitri, but you would be a fool to try. These men are far more brutal than you can imagine. And even if you manage to kill one– what is it they say? ‘Cut off one head and two more will grow in its place.’
Holy fuck, you thought. You needed to get back to Sam.
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