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alltheirdamn · 1 month

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Killing Me Softly | (Joel Miller x teacher!f!reader)

Chap. 1 : Your Name

Series Summary: You've nursed a broken heart for two years. ‘Love’ felt like a foreign term, but maybe it wasn’t so far out of reach. Chap. 1 Summary: When you catch the eye of your students' dad at a school dance, he starts showing up everywhere. Rating: 18+ MDNI (for the future smut) Word Count: 6.8k Warnings: pre-outbreak AU, age gap (joel is 36 reader is 27), no smut (yet), sexual tension, flirting, pining, mentions of alcohol, language, angst, reader's last name is 'Smith' for no other purpose than the fact she is a teacher A/N: This will definitely be a slow-burn fic, so please hang tight!! Tropes include: second chance at love, strangers to lovers, secret relationship, etc. I'm actually so excited about this one, so I hope you guys stick around to see where it goes :')

Masterlist

PROLOGUE

You never thought you’d be the girl sitting at the steps of an abandoned altar with your wedding dress covered in mud from the rain.

Just minutes before you were supposed to take your first steps down the aisle, your fiancé fled. You watched the blur of his suit in the distance as he ran through the rain and left your family and friends in shock. Motionless at the back of the rows of chairs, you dropped your bouquet and stood in heartbreaking silence as the cords of the violins faded into the air. Your parents and siblings swarmed around you, trying to break the paralysis that kept your eyes locked on the vacant spot under the archway and steps of what would have been the place you said your vows. You still had them in your hand; the words scribbled neatly on a folded paper torn from your journal. You’d never get the chance to say those words aloud; he never would have deserved them, anyway.

The ring sat heavily on your finger now as you watched it glisten under the pelting rain. Your dress clung to your body in layers of silk and lace, a taunting reminder of who you had become for a man unworthy of your love and devotion.

Five years together, all stripped away in a matter of minutes.

You’d never love again.

“Everyone’s gotta do it,” Maria sighed as she stood at the student drop-off with you.

By ‘it,’ she meant chaperoning the father-daughter dance later in the week, which you seriously wanted no part of. You had been through enough school dances in your three years working at the middle school, and you were tired of watching pre-teens grinding on each other to god-awful music. You had better things to do with your Friday nights, like sitting on the couch with a pint of ice cream and a horror movie playing in the background—you’d sworn off rom-coms long ago.

“Yeah, I know,” you grumbled, waving another line of kids across the road.

You watched as they trudged across the crosswalk with their backpacks slung over their shoulders, eyes bright and broad at the realization school was over for the day. If only they were that chipper in class, maybe you’d have an easier time teaching them how to write three-point essays.

Maria chirped goodbye to each one as they passed, her cheeks pinched with a fake smile only you could recognize. You knew she loved the kids but loved the final school bell even more. You, on the other hand, hated it. The end of school was just another reminder that you’d go back to an empty home and an empty life.

Two years had passed since Bennett ran from your wedding ceremony—two years without closure or an answer. By the time you had pieced yourself together and returned home from the would-have-been ceremony, his things were gone, and the house filled with the ghost of his presence. Your in-laws went radio silent, avoiding all calls and emails from you until they eventually moved out of state and changed numbers. The hours leading up to the ceremony would forever be a mystery as to why he left, and you would spend the rest of your life fighting for an answer as to why you weren’t good enough to love.

Dragging you from your thoughts, Maria bumped you with her hip, giving you a concerned look. You shook away the memories and returned her stare with a fake smile you had mastered over the last two years. You couldn’t even remember the last time you had genuinely smiled or laughed without feeling the force of a facade washing over you. Concealing the pain of it all made it easier; maybe if you believed you were okay, you’d start feeling okay. But you never did. Not even the countless hours of therapy had helped reconcile the person you once were. Bennett had left and taken every vulnerable part of you with him, leaving nothing but a raw and broken shell in his wake.

“You’re doing it again,” Maria scolded.

“Doing what?” You asked, already aware of the answer.

“Wallowing. You really should get back out there again.”

You focused on the next grouping of kids setting out to cross the street, your hand instinctively coming up to hold the passing cars at a standstill. You plastered on a fake smile as they waved goodbye to you, and you glanced back at Maria once they finally stepped foot on the next sidewalk.

“I’m not interested,” you stated. “I’m fine on my own.”

Her eyebrow lifted as if challenging your blasé response. Your answer always remained the same, yet Maria relentlessly attempted to change your mind.

“You’ve got to at least try. What if there’s already someone out there just waiting for you?”

“Maria, I promise no one is waiting for me.”

“I wish you’d just give it a shot. You deserve to be happy.”

You had heard that phrase often over the last couple of years; a pitying tone always accompanied the words. People loved to soothe you with words that held no weight or purpose. You learned to nod along to their sympathies and turn a deaf ear to their suggestions of what you deserved.

The final round of kids made their way toward the line of parents waiting in their cars, and you followed Maria back to your classrooms to clean up before leaving for the day. Her words stuck with you on the quiet drive home; the radio wasn’t enough to drown out that taunting voice in your head reminding you that you’d never be enough.

Your single-story house was nestled into an older neighborhood of Austin, only a handful of miles from the middle school. You’d argue that the house was the best thing to come out of the failed engagement; its personality stood firm against the other houses with a vibrant shade of blue painted over its wooden panels and wrap-around porch. You spent the last few months sprucing up the front yard, planting rose bushes and trees to liven up the house. It hadn’t fixed all your problems but pacified them temporarily as you dirtied your hands in the soil.

It became second nature to shut your garage immediately after putting your car in park. You didn’t want the typical neighborly interactions or shallow conversations. You were content with living between closed doors and drawn curtains. The less of an interaction with the world, the better.

Dropping your purse and work bag on the kitchen counter, you sunk onto a barstool, staring blankly at the fridge and knowing all too well there was hardly anything inside it. You’d settle for another frozen meal and glass of wine, a typical meal these days to satisfy a hunger you no longer had. Despite the colorful kitchen cabinets, the mustard yellow couch in the living room, and the obscure wallpaper…your life was dull. How could one person suck out all the energy from another human being? How could pain last this long?

You stabbed a fork into the TV dinner meal before you and wondered if you’d ever feel happy again.

You managed to survive another week of teaching, only to now be standing in the shadows of the school gymnasium, nursing an overly sweet fruit punch. The PTA had done a decent job of turning the space into a somewhat realistic dance floor: string lights hung corner to corner of the ceiling, a DJ booth in the center of the basketball court, and colorful balloons circled the air. You spotted a few of your students dancing with their fathers, their eyes squeezed shut from their too-wide smiles and bubbling laughter. A foreign ache in your chest reminded you how you would have had a father-daughter dance at your wedding. Your father even took it upon himself to brush up on dance lessons to sway you across the floor to some overly emotional song. As corny as it was, you had been looking forward to that moment throughout your engagement.

“Look who got all dolled up!” Maria hollered as she strolled over, fruit punch in hand.

“I would hardly call this dolled up,” you said, tugging at the hem of your dress.

You only had a handful of dresses in your closet, this particular one being a flowy black cocktail dress with a halter top and ruffled skirt. It was barely passing the school dress code, so you decided to pair it with a low kitten heel to try and deter the admin’s scrutiny. You did, however, spend a little more time than usual on your makeup and hair, hoping if you looked pretty, then maybe you’d feel it, too.

“You’re too hard on yourself,” Maria sighed.

“You look great,” you said, sidestepping her lecture.

Maria had chosen a plum floor-length maxi dress decorated with embroidered blue flowers. Her curly hair was pinned in a bun, and several sparkly barrettes were clipped to the side. Her makeup was no different from usual: a rosy red lip and simple mascara with a hint of blush on her cheeks.

“Really, Maria. You do.”

“Well, thank you,” she blushed, looking back toward the room full of bodies dancing.

Your eyes followed hers, settling on the duos as they swayed to a slow song. Every father was dressed up in some sort of button-up or the occasional suit except for one—the same one who happened to be twirling around your student, Sarah Miller. You nudged Maria, pointing secretly at them with a questioning glance.

“Is that her dad?” You asked.

He wore a basic cotton T-shirt, jeans, and dirty work boots. There was barely any thought behind his appearance as if he had rolled up to the school right after a long shift at work, forgoing any effort or care. Some part of you hated him for it. The least he could do was get dressed up for a silly school dance, especially when Sarah wore a lavender tulle dress that complimented her olive skin tone.

“Yup,” Maria elongated the word. “That’s Joel Miller.”

“Sure looks like he doesn’t care to be here,” you grumbled.

Maria barked a laugh, looking at you through narrowed eyes.

“As opposed to you?” She questioned. “Correct me if I’m wrong, but weren’t you bitching about this dance all week long?”

“Well, at least I put some effort into my looks tonight,” you defended.

You glanced back at Sarah, seeing her father twirl her one last time. You caught a glimpse of his face for the first time in the flow of his movements. Messy dark curls framed his head, curling in every which way as if he’d run his hand through them a million times. Even from a distance, you could see the patchy beard and short mustache covering the lower half of his face, alongside the several creases around his eyes as he smiled. And his eyes… They looked like big brown saucers under the lights, reflecting a genuine softness as he watched his daughter dance.

And then they snapped up to meet your gaze through the crowd as if you had silently called out to him. Everything slowed around you for a moment as he studied you from afar, his eyes drifting down your body and back up with a hint of a smile teasing his lips. A rush of heat crawled up your neck, and you broke the eye contact between you. Maria cleared her throat beside you, tearing you away from the man holding your sincere interest.

“What was that?” Maria chirped.

You shook your head, glancing between her curious face and the dancefloor. Joel had since moved on, steering Sarah toward the refreshment table. He never once looked back at you, which left you unexplainably disappointed. For a moment in time, someone looked at you and saw you.

“I–I don’t know,” you stuttered. “Probably nothing.”

“It looked like something.”

You turned to face Maria, a scowl twisting up your lips entirely. You were tired of her pushing nonexistent things on you, and that’s what this was— nonexistent. Whatever moment between you and Joel had gone as quickly as it came. You were done with the night and standing among so many cheerful people. You couldn’t stand it any longer.

“I think I’m going to take off,” you announced, placing your half-drunk fruit punch on the table behind you.

Maria was defeated, knowing you'd still leave no matter what she said. Stalking out of the gymnasium, you grabbed your purse from the teacher's booth and booked it to your car with your heels in your hands. You carefully walked along the sidewalk toward your car, catching a conversation drifting through the wind between the other vehicles.

“...Dad, you promised we’d watch movies tomorrow!”

“I know, sweetheart, but Uncle Tommy needs help on the job sight.”

You hid between two cars, listening to their voices bounce back and forth. It wasn’t until you peeked out to see the two figures that you realized it was Sarah and her father, Joel. For fucks sake. You tiptoed around the car's bumper beside you, attempting to make a getaway before either of them saw you. You must have done a terrible job because Sarah called your name as you edged closer to your car.

“Miss Smith!”

“Shit,” you muttered to yourself.

With your purse in one hand and heels in the other, you turned toward them with your rehearsed fake smile. Sarah was standing beside her dad—Joel—a small smile shining up at you. You knew her usual upbeat personality in class, always laughing and joking with other kids. She was an A+ student, too, and her work showcased her smartness. But in her father's shadow, a distinct sadness clouded her eyes.

“Hello, Sarah! How did you like the dance?” You asked.

“It was really fun,” she grinned, forcing her smile wider. You saw through it.

“I’m glad you enjoyed it.”

Joel cleared his throat, extending a large hand toward you. You blinked at his open palm, afraid of making that same startling eye contact as you had in the gymnasium. Shuffling your purse into your other hand, you took his into yours, focusing on the warmth of his grip crawling up your skin. His fingers dwarfed your own, tightening around your hand until you were forced to look up finally.

“S’nice to finally meet you, Mrs. Smith,” he said, his thick Southern accent shining through.

“Miss Smith,” you corrected. It was hard to hide the bitterness in the statement.

“Miss Smith,” he echoed. “I’m Joel, Sarah’s dad.”

His eyes still hadn’t left yours, their piercing stare making you shiver despite the September humidity. You pulled your hand away, overly aware of how his fingers lingered a moment too long. Shifting your weight from one leg to another, you were starting to feel the asphalt dig into the soles of your feet.

“It’s nice to meet you, Mr. Miller,” you replied.

“Joel,” he insisted.

You nodded politely, giving him another faltering smile. Hauling your purse over your shoulder, you said a soft goodbye to them and bolted to your car. In the confines of the driver's seat, you rested your head against the wheel, inhaling deeply as you steadied the nerves inside your body. Why did such a simple interaction light up your body with emotions you had spent so long suppressing? And why did Joel’s smile haunt you even when your eyes were shut?

Forcing your keys into the ignition, you tore out of the school parking lot and back to the confines of your tiny blue home.

The weekends were usually filled with nothing more than grading papers and lesson planning. The coffee beside you on the kitchen counter had gone cold hours ago as the morning sunlight faded into the afternoon. Through tired eyes, you glanced up at the oven clock: 2 pm. You needed a break from reading through piles of essays, and your fridge desperately required replenishing. Grabbing your keys off the counter, you forfeited any plans of changing out of your sweat set and headed to the supermarket.

The packed parking lot and crowded store were daunting reminders of why you typically decided to leave your fridge vacant. But as you pushed your shopping cart down each aisle, you had no choice but to comply with your basic human needs and stock up on miscellaneous food you would want throughout the week. Rounding down the next aisle, your eyes caught on a tall figure standing in front of the bakery section, his face scrutinizing every cake in the display case. Shit.

You tried—and failed—to maneuver your way into the next aisle, somehow crashing into an older woman’s cart, forcing her carton of eggs to fall and smash onto the linoleum floor.

“Dammit,” you hissed, crouching down to try and help them clean up the shattered eggshells.

“S’alright, sweetheart,” she assured. “I’ll just holler for a worker to come clean it up.”

“No, I—I can help,” you stammered, fingers still running over the broken yolks spreading across the floor.

“Miss Smith?” You heard a deep voice above you.

Your head snapped up to see Joel standing above you; his forehead creased with concern. The woman you had crashed into was already down the next aisle looking for a store employee, leaving you alone with a mess you had caused. Joel crouched beside you, his hands folding over yours to slow your frantic cleaning.

“It’s alright, I got it!” You snapped, pulling your hands back.

“Just tryna’ help,” he said. “That’s all.”

“It’s my fault. I can fix it.”

You had said those words to yourself many times before, and never once did they prove true.

“Someone will come and clean this up; you ain’t gotta do all that,” Joel said softly. “C’mon.”

He offered a hand, which you took reluctantly, leaving you both standing awkwardly in front of the mess. You shifted your gaze downward, too afraid to meet those deep brown eyes that had plagued you the night before.

“Hey,” Joel said in a soft tone. “Everything okay?”

“Yeah,” you mumbled.

“Doesn’t seem like it.”

You huffed a sigh, gripping the handles of your cart to start moving. Today was going downhill rapidly, and you only wanted to go home and hole yourself away…like you always did.

“I, uh, was tryna’ pick out a birthday cake,” he rambled. “S’my birthday tomorrow, and Sarah wants to make sure I have a cake, ya’know? Any ideas on what she might like? I’m not sure if y’all ever have parties at school with sweets and all that.”

Your eyes snapped to his, a scowl forming on your face. Sarah’s dad was asking you what she liked? He was proving to be worse and worse by the second. But you were her teacher and needed to hold your tongue.

“I’m sure she’ll enjoy anything,” you said, a tight smile forming. “Happy birthday, Mr. Miller.”

His eyebrows furrowed together, clearly seeing through the mask you put on. It was infuriating how easily he had wove his way through your bloodstream, even in just twenty-four hours.

“Joel,” he insisted. “You don’t need to do all that formal stuff.”

“I kind of do,” you laughed. “You’re my students’ father; that’s how I’m supposed to address you.”

“S’all I’m sayin’ is that you’re free to call me Joel. No harm in it.”

There was a lot of harm in it.

You didn’t know what else to say, so you dipped your head to say goodbye and pushed your cart past him. You weren’t being the kindest nor the most respectful person, but your anger was at a low simmer. Any longer around him, and you might explode. You weren’t used to someone getting under your skin like he was. And the worst part was that he wasn’t even trying. You couldn’t understand why you reacted so strongly.

“Miss Smith!” Joel called, catching up as you moved down the next aisle.

You inhaled and stopped walking, mustering another fake smile to appease him. He gripped the side of your cart with a large hand, a simple gesture to keep you firmly in place. Clearly, he decided when the conversation was over.

“Yes, Mr. Miller?”

“Did I do somethin’ to upset you? ‘Cause I swear, I didn’t mean anything inappropriate by what I said back there.

“No, no, you’re fine,” you lied. “Just having a bad day, that's all.” That wasn’t a lie.

Joel ran a hand over his neck, studying you quietly for a moment. Something about the atmosphere around him was intoxicating and so fucking dangerous.

“Well, I’m sorry ‘bout that. Guess I was just tryna’ make small talk, and clearly, I ain’t doin’ a good job.”

“It’s fine—no need for apologies. I hope the cake and birthday celebration go well. I’m sure Sarah will tell me all about it on Monday.”

His eyes shifted over you again, lingering on your lips, set in a firm smile. You tried your best to hide the shiver that ran up your back as he drank you in.

“Y’probably think I’m a terrible dad, huh?” He sighed.

“What?” You blinked away the thoughts swarming your head.

“I mean, I know you probably heard us arguin’ last night, and I’m out here asking her teacher what her favorite kind of cake is. You ain’t gotta be polite about it. I know I’m not doin’ the best job,” he confessed.

“Mr. Miller, I don’t think that at all. I just think maybe asking your wife would be more helpful than asking me.”

That garnered a laugh from him, a genuine and sincere laugh.

“Never had a wife to begin with. Sarah’s mom left us when she was only a year old,” he explained. “Been doin’ it all on my own.”

“Oh.” Dammit, you really were a bitch.

“Trust me, I get it. I could do a better job, bein’ a dad and all that. I’m tryin’.”

“I think you’re doing just fine,” you said. “I’m sorry I didn’t know.”

He brushed it off, replacing the sad look cresting his eyes with a lopsided grin. You wanted to hate it, but your body reacted traitorously. You felt the softness in his gaze crawl over you, slowly replacing the anger coursing through your veins with something else…something you hadn’t felt in a long time. No one had looked at you that way since—well, since Bennett. Even if Joel was only being friendly, you were drawn to the charm he exuded. Dangerous, you reminded yourself.

“Anyway,” he continued. “I won’t hold ya’ up any longer. I hope your day gets better, Miss Smith.”

“Thank you,” you replied. “And Happy birthday, again.”

Joel’s eyes settled on your lips again as you talked, and you felt your cheeks warm under his gaze. His eyes flicked back up to yours, a flash of something behind them, and you were ready to bolt. He muttered a thank you and left you standing in a vacant aisle, your hands still covered in egg yolks and your mind reeling.

It was hard to maintain your good mood once Monday rolled around. Seeing Sarah sitting in class was an unwelcome reminder of your interaction with Joel on Saturday, and you had to refrain from overstepping boundaries and asking about his birthday. She didn’t need to know you cared, even though you struggled not to care. You wondered what kind of cake he decided on, how old he turned if he blushed when she sang Happy Birthday. Every thought burned a hole in your head that you tried to patch up and forget.

The final bell rang for the day, and the kids began to pack up in a rush. You straightened out the papers lining your desk, avoiding eye contact with Sarah as she slung her backpack over her shoulders and lined up to leave. Grabbing your whistle and bottle of water, you followed them toward the front gates, taking your usual place alongside Maria—who was overly chipper for a Monday.

“Soooo,” she prodded. “How was your weekend?”

“Uneventful,” you lied, walking with her to the crosswalk.

“You really need to go out and have fun! You’re young, and you need to enjoy your 20s!” She exasperated.

“Maria, I’m 27,” you groaned. “My 20s are practically over.”

She folded her arms over her chest, leveling you with a heavy glare. Maria was in her late 40’s and clearly exuded a motherly-type attitude. You shifted your focus to the kids crossing the road, watching as they reunited with their parents.

“We go out on Wednesdays for Happy Hour! Join us this week,” she suggested.

“I don’t know,” you sighed.

“Come on!” Maria pressed. “If you hate it, I’ll never ask you to go out with us again.”

There was no point in arguing with her, so you relented and agreed to one night out. A few drinks and hours of mindless conversation could be good for you. It would be better than sitting in front of the TV with a bland meal and another glass of wine.

You managed to evade all thoughts of Joel somehow the next two days, putting all your time and energy into prepping your students for their first test of the year. Lesson planning and preparation took up your free period and late evenings, leaving you little room to think about those brown eyes and disarming smile. It was Wednesday evening, and you were knee-deep in your closet, trying to find an outfit for Happy Hour. You had changed at least five times, discarding every top and skirt onto your bedroom floor. Eventually, you gave up, settling on tight jeans, a flowy red blouse, and black flats. You left your hair in wavy curls over your shoulders and simple makeup to balance everything out.

The group took their Happy Hour rituals to a local dive bar on the outskirts of town, a row of motorcycles and trucks lining the entrance. You felt a bit out of place walking into a smoke-hazed bar, with the patron's wandering eyes crawling over you, but you quickly picked out the huddle of teachers in the corner laughing over a round of beers. They welcomed you with bright smiles and hellos, offering to buy your first drink. After about an hour and a few drinks, you felt warm and far more relaxed. Conversations about quarterly goals and admin meetings flowed over the table, each teacher complaining about something. You chimed in when necessary, keeping quiet when you had nothing to contribute. You were on your fourth beer when the girls around you started whispering low about a group of men entering the bar. You stole a peek over your shoulder, eyes settling on the last person you wanted to see.

Joel Miller.

He had on his usual simple work attire, the fabric of his cotton shirt stretched out over his broad chest. His neck was tanned, most likely from working outdoors, and his hair was just as unruly as you remembered. The man beside him, shorter but with similar features, clapped Joel on the back and steered him towards the bar. You lowered your head, taking a longer gulp of your drink to try and steady your nerves. Of all fucking places, he had to be here.

“He’s just so handsome, isn’t he?” Maria nudged you, tossing back a look towards Joel.

You shrugged, feigning disinterest. Joel was handsome, but no one needed to know how you felt. Because what you felt was very, very confusing.

“He’s my students’ father, Maria.”

She rolled her eyes, swirling the contents of her drinks before taking a sip.

“Okay, and? There’s nothing inappropriate about dating a student’s parent.”

“Yes, there is,” you snapped. “And I’m not even considering dating him.”

“But you think he’s attractive,” she stated.

You didn’t want to respond to that, knowing the warmth in your cheeks was already enough of a giveaway. If you shrunk far enough into yourself, you might go unrecognized the rest of the night.

Maria thankfully dropped the subject, returning to the conversation around the table. After another hour, the ladies started to trickle out of the bar and home for the night. You, on the other hand, still had to wait a bit longer until the alcohol phased out of your body. Which meant you were sitting alone in the same space as Joel. You could feel his eyes on your back the longer you sat there, and to your detriment, decided to steal a glance over your shoulder. Joel’s eyes raked over your body, returning your stare with a soft, welcoming smile. Shit.

You watched as he slipped off the barstool, waltzing towards you with a beer clasped in his large hand. You tried so hard not to notice his thick fingers wrapped around the bottle, and you most definitely tried not to think of what his fingers would feel like inside—

“Miss Smith,” he greeted, silencing your awful thoughts.

“Mr. Miller,” you said.

“Are all these formalities necessary in a bar?” he teased.

“A couple of drinks won’t change my mind.”

Joel slid into the seat beside you without an invitation, his arm brushing against yours as he settled into the stool. It was instinct to flinch away, afraid of the reaction his touch would cause to your body.

“What will change your mind?” he pressed, keeping a steady gaze on you.

“Nothing,” you shrugged, deciding to change the subject. “How was your birthday?”

Joel ran a hand through his hair, that stupid lopsided grin forming on his lips.

“Can’t say I love gettin’ old, but celebratin’ was sure nice.”

“And how old are you, Mr. Miller?”

“Ripe age of thirty-six, Miss Smith,” he grinned.

“What cake did you choose?” you asked, watching him take a long sip of his beer.

“Vanilla. Everyone’s gotta love vanilla, right?”

Was he… flirting with you?

You’d blame your following response on the beers coursing through your bloodstream, but truthfully, you just wanted to play along, even only for a moment.

“Hmm, I don’t know. I don’t always love vanilla, Mr. Miller.”

Joel’s eyes darkened, falling to your lips as you took another drink. It was bold and stupid of you to say that, but at this point, you didn’t care.

“What other flavors do you like?”

He leaned forward in his chair, his thigh pressing against yours. The heat of his body and the smell of smoke on his clothes was a dangerous combination for your self-restraint.

“I have a few guilty pleasure flavors,” you smirked.

Joel’s hand damn near crushed the bottle when you said those words, his entire body tensing beside you. You couldn’t care at that moment about how you spoke; the drinks started speaking for themselves. You hadn’t dared to flirt with a man since Bennett left, too afraid of what falling in love again might do to you. But, for some reason, flirting with Joel felt so simple. He was older than you, and maybe that piqued your interest, knowing he was far more mature than anyone else you had considered.

“Indulge me, Miss Smith,” he whispered.

“I think I’ll leave it a mystery,” you whispered in return. “I’ve already said too much as it is.”

“I reckon you ain’t said enough,” he countered.

Heat flared through your neck and face as he leaned in closer, his face only inches from yours. This had gone too far. You had broken any rules you had previously set in place, and now you were dancing on a fragile line between professionalism and indecency.

Glancing at the clock above the bar, you watched as the hands ticked closer to midnight. Just like in the fairytales, your time was up. Back to reality.

“It’s getting late,” you started. “I should get home.”

Joel’s demeanor shifted, and his grin faltered as he watched you rise from the barstool. He brushed his hand over your arm, barring you from walking away.

“Not real sure if you should be drivin’ home yet, Miss Smith. Y’had a few drinks tonight,” Joel protested.

“How do you know? Were you watching me?”

“Gotta make sure my daughter's teacher is safe. Who else’s gonna make sure she gets straight A’s?”

He was trying to make light of the situation, but you knew better. You knew he had been watching you since he had arrived; his attention had never been on his group of friends.

“I assure you, I’m fine,” you argued. “You go enjoy your night with your friends, Mr. Miller.”

Joel’s brows furrowed as he considered you. His hand still lingered on your arm, thick fingers flexing against your skin. You glanced between his hand and his eyes, trying to make sense of his intentions. This was far past a coincidental run-in; this was a strange desire out of reach.

“Can I drive you home at least?” He asked.

“I’m okay. Thank you, though.”

“Can I at least drive behind you to make sure you make it alright?” He offered.

You looked back toward the bar, seeing the man he walked in with staring at you with an apparent scowl.

“I don’t think that’s fair to your friend,” you said.

Joel peered around you and huffed loudly.

“That’s my brother, Tommy. S’all good, he’s probably ready to hit the road, too.”

“He doesn’t look too happy.”

“He’s fine,” Joel grumbled.

Tommy noticed you both staring at him and decided to join the mix. He walked up with a grin despite the scowl he had just worn and extended his hand to you.

“I’m Tommy. Joel’s brother.”

“Hi, I’m Sarah’s teacher.” You gave him a quick shake and tried to sidestep to leave.

“Wait!” Joel called out.

“I’m okay, Mr. Miller,” you tossed over your shoulder. “Be safe tonight.”

You made a beeline for the door, hoping to escape him before he reeled you back in. You let yourself float in his atmosphere for too long, testing the waters you knew were off-limits. There was still an alcohol-induced haze lingering in your head, but the sooner you could leave, the better. Tomorrow would come with a headache and a post-drunken clarity to put you back on the right track. You needed to steer clear of Joel before you slipped up and allowed another man inside the walls you built.

You attempted to retrieve your keys from your purse, only to fumble them out of your hands and onto the dirt ground of the parking lot.

“Fuck,” you groaned.

As you bent to pick them up, footsteps crunching on the ground grew closer. You already knew who it was.

“Miss Smith,” Joel’s voice sounded pained.

“I’m fine!” you shouted, whipping your head around to find him nearly toe-to-toe with you.

The moonlight above you illuminated his brown eyes, which darkened the longer he looked down at you. You shrunk away, letting your body hit the driver's side of your door while Joel stepped closer.

“Please. You shouldn’t be drivin’ right now. Lettin’ you leave like this wouldn’t be right of me.”

Your only focus was on his lips as he talked. The plushness of his lips enticed you, leaving you imagining how soft they’d feel pressed against yours. Your control was slipping, and the alcohol was pulsing faster in your veins.

“You’re not going to give up, are you?” You wondered aloud.

Joel looked at you like he knew the layers of the question. He knew what battle you were fighting inside and saw the fear plastered on your face.

“No,” he whispered softly.

Your eyes bounced between his eyes and his lips, trying to grasp the moment's weight. You needed to be firm and say no; your future self would thank you for it. Gripping your keys, you exhaled and turned towards your car door.

“Have a good night, Mr. Miller,” you tossed over your shoulder.

The warmth of his body pressed against your back, the smell of smoke and liquor wrapping around you and enveloping you in a cocoon of temptation. Joel’s hands reached around to grab your keys from your shaking hand, dangling them between you and the car.

“M’taking you home, Miss Smith. Ain’t gonna argue anymore,” he said as his mouth fell to the shell of your ear.

“I’m—.”

“Don’t,” he interjected. “Go to my truck.”

He had the exact tone you did when you reprimanded your students, but the deep rasp of his accent made it all the more inviting. You didn’t want to listen to his demands, but you were getting nowhere successfully. Joel sidestepped to free you of the cage he had you in, watching you intently as you sulked to his truck. It wasn’t hard to know which one it was; only a few cars were left, and the truck exuded the same masculinity as the owner.

“What about my car?” You protested, folding your arms across your body as you leaned against the truck.

“I’ll give Tommy the keys,” he said. “He’ll drive it behind us.”

You were about to ramble another slew of protests when Joel yanked the passenger side door open and tilted his head toward the interior.

“Get in.”

His tone left little room for arguing, so you did as he said without another word. Despite the anger radiating off his body, Joel shut the door softly before heading back into the bar.

You fidgeted with the seatbelt, the press of it against your chest not strong enough to stabilize the rhythm of your heartbeat. You were in his truck, meaning you’d be alone with him for the next several minutes. It was enough to force a roll of nausea through your stomach. Leaning your head against the window, you watched him reemerge from the bar with Tommy in tow. There was a clear expression of annoyance etched on Tommy’s face, all at the cost of your own stubbornness.

Joel tossed him the keys to your car before rounding the truck's hood and climbing into the driver’s seat. You couldn’t bring yourself to look at him, so you kept your eyes on the road as it blurred past with each passing mile.

“Where do you live?” he asked, passing through another vacant green light.

You rambled off your address, still keeping your gaze steady on the streetlights as they passed by your window. He didn’t attempt to make small talk after that, and the silence settled onto you like a heavy blanket. Your control of consciousness was slipping the longer you sat beside him, but you willed yourself awake. The streets started to become familiar, and you shifted in your seat. Taking a risk, you looked at Joel, finding him white-knuckling the wheel with his jaw clenched.

“I’m sorry,” you muttered. “I—I don’t go out and drink normally. I should have just stayed home tonight.”

“S’okay,” he said, glancing at you. “Just don’t get why you’re so stubborn about askin’ for help. First at the supermarket and now at the bar. I don’t get it.”

A rush of tears stung your eyes, and you quickly looked away, trying to blink them back before he noticed. Joel’s hand fell onto your thigh, sending a jolt of shock through your body. You wanted to shy away from it, but there was no use in fighting at this point; you were already failing miserably.

“Hey,” he prodded. “Shit, I’m sorry. Don’t cry, alright?”

You swiped away the tears running from your eyes, schooling your emotions back into a state of numbness. Your little blue house came into view, and you pointed a tired finger toward it to guide him in the right direction.

“This is me,” you sniffled.

“Big ol’ house, Miss Smith. Y’live here alone?”

“Yeah,” you exhaled. “Thanks for the ride, Mr. Miller.”

“I really wish you’d stop callin’ me that,” he sighed, parking his car at your home's fence.

“It’s all formalities.”

“Yeah, I know. I just think after tonight, we’re far past all them formalities and shit.”

Your hand lingered on the door handle as you took one last look at him. Joel’s eyes looked over you with a softness you didn’t deserve. You deserve to be happy. Maria’s words rang out in your head the longer you stared at him. ‘Happy’ was a foreign word to you now, out of reach and out of your control.

“Can I just know one thing?” He asked.

You nodded, your fingers wrapped around the door handle.

“What’s your name?”

Blame the alcohol…blame your vulnerability…but you told him.

#joel miller x reader #joel x female reader #joel x f!reader #joel miller x teacher!f!reader #joel miller fanfic #joel tlou #tlou #tlou fanfiction #joel miller #pre outbreak!joel

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roosterforme · 3 months

Text

The Younger Kind Part 49 | Rooster x Reader

Summary: Bradley confides in you, loves you, and takes care of as much as he can. When he needs you to help him more than usual, you never complain. As the two of you get ready for a hectic weekend, Bradley makes sure he has his plans in order. And he reminds you that you're always one of his top priorities, even when things get busy.

Warnings: Swearing, angst, fluff, oral, smut, cock warming, and age gap (18+)

Length: 5300 words

Pairing: Single dad!Bradley "Rooster" Bradshaw x babysitter!female reader

Check out my masterlist for more! The Younger Kind masterlist.

It was dark outside, and you were sitting on the couch with Skittles while you waited for Bradley to get home. Noah was already sound asleep, worn out from an evening of helping you make ants on logs and going for a hike around the block, but you were alert and antsy. All you got was a text from Bradley an hour ago letting you know he was on his way home.

Skittles aimed her puppy eyes right up at you. "I know. I miss him, too." It was kind of funny the way all three Bradshaws had the same brown eyes that made you want to give them anything they asked for. "Okay, fine. But don't tell anyone about it."

You stood and the pup followed you into the kitchen where you cut up a meatball and dumped it into her food bowl. Then you heard the front door open and nearly wiped out on your way back to the living room where Bradley was closing the front door behind him. He had his uniform belt and a ziploc bag filled with his pins in one hand, but he held the other out for you.

"What happened?" you asked as you tucked yourself against him and examined his face. His expression was unreadable. "Did she sign the paper?"

He nodded as Skittles ran in and sniffed his boot. "Yeah. She signed it," he replied, leaning to kiss your lips as you wrapped your arms around his waist.

"Wow," you whispered, standing in the living room right next to the area rug where you were laying the first time he ever told you about Meredith. "I'm... kind of surprised."

"Me, too." He tossed his belt and pins onto the couch and held you close.

You didn't want to pry too much, but you were so curious, it was killing you inside. "What was it like when you talked to her?"

Bradley rubbed his face against your hair as he undid the top few buttons of his uniform shirt before wrapping his arm around you again. "It went better than I expected. I was only in the room with her for maybe ten minutes. She..."

You rubbed soft circles against his back as he collected his thoughts. You didn't care how long it took him to get the words out, you just wanted him to know you'd always be here to listen. His heartbeat was strong and steady as you let your head rest on his chest, and he gave you a little squeeze.

When he spoke again, his voice was rough and sent a chill along your back. "She thinks she would have been better off if she had an abortion. And I tend to agree with her in some respects. But my god, I'm so happy she didn't. I can't even think about living without Noah. So I'm happy she didn't do it." His voice broke, and your eyes welled up with tears.

"Me too, Daddy," you whispered as you started to tug him toward the kitchen. He'd already had a very long week, but now you could take care of him so he didn't have to do it by himself.

"Baby, I'm fucking exhausted. I'm not hungry. Can we just go to bed?"

You nodded and changed direction. "Of course." You worked on the rest of his buttons and helped him out of his shirt. When he sat on the edge of the bed, you knelt to untie his boots and yank them off, and Bradley looked at you with such adoration, it made your cheeks feel warm. You peeled off his socks, too, and when you got up, you sat on his lap.

"I'm really proud of you for going to talk to Meredith," you whispered. "I hope Noah grows up to be just like you."

Bradley scooped you up and lounged back against the pillows with you on top of him. "Funny thing about that, Princess... I hope he grows up to be just like you."

Less than fifteen minutes later, you lulled Bradley to sleep while you played with his hair and softly kissed his face. "I love you, Princess," he muttered as you rubbed your nose against his. Then you crept back out of bed to make sure everything was in order for the three of you for the following morning, and you stopped in Noah's room to kiss him before getting ready for bed yourself.

---------------------------

Wednesday and Thursday were both long days, and once again Bradley had to rely on you to pick up all of his slack when it came to Noah. Cyclone was running him ragged in preparation for the air show. Wednesday, he went to the bank to transfer the money into a new account with just his name and Noah's on it. Thursday, he went back to talk to Tracy as soon as he could leave base.

When he called and asked her if she could help him put up some extra safeguards for his own peace of mind, she told him she could. When he strolled into her office for the second time in one week, she was talking on the phone and drinking a Red Bull, but she pointed to the conference table and a large folder with his name on the front. He skimmed through a stack of paperwork; she'd really thought of everything. Tracy even had your name listed on several documents along with a few notes for you to read.

When she ended her call, he said, "Thanks for helping me with this. I want to get it all in order."

"You mean like I told you to do years ago?" she asked with one eyebrow raised.

"Listen. At least I'm doing it now."

"I hope you brought your checkbook this time."

When he eventually got home, you already had dinner on the table, and Noah was eating a piece of broccoli. And sure, he'd just dropped another couple hundred bucks when he wrote out a check, but he'd be damned if anything was going to mess with his family again. He set the folder and checkbook down on the counter and bent to kiss you between bites of your dinner while he tousled Noah's hair.

"You're home earlier than I thought, Daddy," you remarked when he leaned in for another kiss. "And that's a mighty fine looking checkbook you've got there."

"I've been late too much this week," he whispered, stealing a piece of broccoli from your plate. "It shouldn't be like this."

"Next week will be better," you promised. "After the air show and everything this weekend, next week will be quieter. And then maybe I can plan our trip to Disneyland."

"Shhh!" Bradley scolded playfully, reaching to cover Noah's ears as he started to feed his broccoli to Skittles who was begging next to his chair. "Not so loud." You laughed and pointed to the stove where a plate of dinner was waiting for him. "Thanks, Princess."

Once he settled in, you looked at him with a little smirk. "You know, all of these late nights meant I didn't get to my nail appointment. I wanted to have them done for the hospital tour and the air show."

Bradley grimaced. The tour was tomorrow, and you were already leaving work an hour early to get there on time with him. "I'm sorry. The week really got away from me. I should have reminded you to buy a new outfit or two if you wanted."

"Oh, I did," you told him. "I used my Princess card."

He swallowed hard. He could tell you were subtly asking him for a spanking, and he was more than happy to give it to you, but he had something else in mind for the remainder of the night after Noah was in bed. He glanced at his son who was now picking apart his chicken. "Can you take a raincheck, Baby? I have some other plans for the next few days, but I'd love to get my hands on you next week?"

You raised one eyebrow. "What are your other plans?"

He took a bite of food before he said, "I'll tell you after bedtime. After you show me the clothes you bought."

Eventually he sent you off to change into one of these new outfits while he got Noah ready for bed. "I'll be home more next week, Bub. I promise. We'll have time to read more books. And maybe one night you and I can go to the park and give Mommy a little break?"

His son nodded as he rolled over and closed his eyes. But Bradley didn't really want to give you a break. He wanted you with him and Noah all the time. And after this weekend, he anticipated that feeling would grow even stronger.

When he walked into his bedroom and found you examining yourself in front of the mirror with a form fitting black dress hugging your body, he groaned. "Are you wearing that for the hospital tour?" he asked, and you looked at him in the mirror.

"Yes?" you replied. "Unless you think it's too much."

He grunted softly. Of course it was too much. You looked sinful in it. All he had to do is put his hand on your ass, bunch the fabric up an inch, and everyone would be privy to the charms he got to enjoy on a regular basis. His cock grew a little hard just thinking about it, which is why he shook his head and told you, "It's not too much, Baby. Not if you're with me all night."

You smiled and peeled it off, baring yourself to him before reaching for the floral sundress on the bed. "What are you wearing tomorrow night?" you asked.

"My flight suit."

"You can't wear that! It's for work and for looking sexy at home!" you protested as you put the second dress on.

"Cyclone wants me in my flight suit both days. Please don't make me piss him off."

You laughed and spun in your second dress and he closed the distance to you. "I'll behave. Like a good girl."

Bradley kissed your forehead. "You're wearing this to the air show?"

"Yes," you whispered. "I got Noah a yellow shirt to match me."

Bradley wasn't sure exactly why, but that information sent his brain into a whirlwind. Matching outfits. Mommy and son stuff. "Princess," he moaned.

"We'll look cute next to you in your sexy flight suit."

"You will look hot as hell both days," he confirmed, helping you pull the sundress off again. "Now, I think I owe you a manicure and a pedicure?" he asked, making you gasp and smile.

-------------------------

You quickly changed into one of Bradley's oversized shirts and met him in the kitchen with all your nail supplies. "Are you really going to do this?" you asked him, and he just nodded and smirked like he had a little secret. "Wait... are you secretly really good at painting nails?"

He shrugged and patted his knee, naked except for his black briefs. "I have no idea. Never tried it before."

It somehow made you feel giggly that he was going to sweetly attempt to do your nails for you even though he didn't know how. You settled down on his lap and set out some bottles of polish. "Which color?" you asked him.

He had his lips on your neck as he murmured, "Do you really need to ask? Purple, Baby."

You moaned his name as you pushed the other colors aside, and then Bradley's hand was up underneath the shirt, teasing your skin and checking to see if you were wearing underwear. You leaned back against his chest and looked up at him over your shoulder. "You feel like fooling around first?"

His thumb stroked softly along the length of your slit. "Kind of," he said, his voice deep and raspy. "You ever warmed a cock before?"

The pad of his thumb felt a little rough, sending goosebumps all along your skin and making your lips part in need. "No," you whispered, always a little sheepish to admit your lack of experience when it came to things that he liked. "But I've heard of it."

He hummed softly and kissed your ear as he continued to stroke you. "You want me to tell you a little more about it? And maybe then you can tell me if you think it's something you'd enjoy?" When you nodded, he kissed your neck and said, "You would take my cock inside you. We would make each other feel warm and safe, and I could paint your nails while we sit here. No thrusting or anything." He dragged his lips and mustache back up to your ear. "You could warm me with your mouth, pussy or ass." You moaned softly, already clenching as he stroked his thumb up and back down your slit. "But since you didn't give yourself some time with your plug first, we could try it with your pussy. If you want to."

Even the idea of it sounded hot and intimate, and you were surprised and delighted that he wanted to try this with you. All of it. The cock warming and the nail painting and just everything. You turned slightly in his lap and took his face in your hands. His skin was warm and rough beneath your hands where his stubble was growing back from when he shaved earlier this morning. His brown eyes were fixed on yours. "I want to," you whispered as you kissed him.

He smiled softly as you let your hands trail down his body to the waistband of his briefs. When he lifted his hips, you yanked them down and marveled at the sight of his half hard cock resting on his thigh. "You do that to me," he rasped, visibly growing harder. "Just having you on my lap, and the way you let me touch you. Baby, that's all you."

You whimpered into his mouth as he kissed you, and when you turned so your back was to his chest, you said, "This is what you do to me, Daddy." Then you spread your thighs and draped your legs over his, and you took his hand in yours. You eased his thumb along your slit again, this time letting him feel how wet you were when you were spread open for him.

He murmured, "I love you," into the crook or your neck while he cock bobbed up and tapped against your inner thigh. "You ready?"

"Yes," you sighed, and Bradley reached in front of you with his right hand and guided his cock through your wet folds and inside you. When you adjusted yourself and leaned forward a bit, the sensation of being so full made you gasp as you took him to the hilt.

"Feel okay?" he asked softly, pulsing gently inside you even though he wasn't thrusting. "If you don't like it, we'll stop."

You turned your head to look at him. "I like it. A lot. I feel so full. Do you like it?"

"Feels incredible," he whispered. "Like you're just holding me and gripping me with your sweet pussy." Heat rose in your face as the raspiness of his voice washed over you. Then he asked, "Want me to try to paint your nails?"

You sat there with Bradley's arms wrapped around you and your palms flat on the kitchen table while his cock was nestled inside you. Neither of you moved very much, and your voices were soft as he worked slowly. After he finished a nail, he treated your neck and cheek to a smattering of kisses, and his breathing was even next to your ear while he worked.

"I can't even look at the color purple without thinking about you," he murmured, and you clenched around him. "God, Baby," he gasped. "Fuck."

You couldn't help that you loved being loved by him. "You feel really good inside me," you told him as he swiped polish onto your left ring finger. He seemed to be taking extra time with that one, kissing and nipping at your ear between each dip of the brush into the bottle.

"Baby, you hardly wear any jewelry," he mused.

You laughed softly as he finally moved to your pinky. When you adjusted yourself on his lap, he grunted. "I don't really have any jewelry."

"And if I got you some, would you wear it?"

"That's a ridiculous question. Of course I would. But you already get me what I need, and you paid off my school loans. You don't need to buy me anything else."

He finished with your pinky and screwed the lid on the nail polish bottle. "But I want to." When his hands came to rest on your thighs, he remarked, "Your nails turned out better than I expected."

"They look so good, Daddy," you said, holding your hands up.

"How long does this shit take to dry?"

"Maybe ten minutes?"

He gently took both of your wrists in his hands and set your palms back on the table. "You want me to paint your toenails, too?"

"Please," you whispered as his hands returned to the tops of your thighs. He was humming as he cupped your pussy with his fingers while he dragged his other hand up to your breasts beneath the shirt you were wearing.

Hands rough against your nipples, he asked, "Will you let me fuck you first? Paint your pussy really pretty too?"

"Oh my god, yes."

As soon as the words left your tongue, Bradley groaned loudly and thrusted upwards while he stroked your clit, and you practically screamed. "You have to be quiet, Princess," he warned, and you pressed your lips together. "God, you got me so fucking worked up, just sitting here with your little pussy wrapped around me."

He fucked up into of you again and again until you were actually holding onto the table to keep yourself upright on his lap. "Daddy," you whimpered as he went a little faster. Each movement had your clit bouncing against his sure fingers, and when he started spanking you softly with them, you nearly screamed again.

"Oh. Oh, fuck," he grunted, panting next to your ear. His breath was warm, and his words were sinfully deep as he told you, "I'm gonna come." He moaned your name as he held you to his chest, fucking you with your legs spread wide on his lap. "It's so fucking good."

Bradley's hips rolled as he filled you with his cum, his broad chest rising and falling against your back. You were about to turn and kiss him when he hauled you to your feet as his softening cock slipped out of you. You squealed as he eased you down onto the floor on your back and pushed your legs open wide.

"What are you doing?" you asked as he knelt and eased himself into position with his hands on the backs of your thighs.

"You didn't come." He licked your pussy, making you gasp. You wanted to tell him that it didn't matter if you came tonight or not, because you loved the cock warming, but his face was already buried in your messy pussy. You felt so wet as you propped yourself up onto your elbows to watch him. His mustache was covered in his own cum and your wetness as he looked up at you and said, "You didn't get enough of my attention this week. You deserve more. I always want you to have more. I'll make you come."

He sounded so sure of himself, and as soon as you nodded he went back to work. "Daddy!" you whined when his tongue swept up around both of your holes before swirling around your clit like he was unwilling to leave any of his cum behind. Just the thought of it had you clenching, and then he started to fuck you with his fingers while he sucked on your clit. The noises were beautifully obscene.

As he started to add a little pressure, you realized something big was building inside you. "Oh god!" you groaned, once again loud enough that you should be concerned about waking up Noah. Your hips rocked up to meet his mouth and fingers, and your legs started shaking.

Bradley grunted as he licked a long stripe and then started to suck. When he released you, your hips bobbed to chase him for more. "So damn sensitive," he crooned, his face a glistening mess as he licked his mouth and looked up at you. "Squirt for me."

You don't know how he knew better than you did what you were about to do, but he licked you from your asshole all the way to your clit while you rocked against him. He pumped two fingers deep inside you, stroking you just right while he plucked at your clit, and you shook your head from side to side on the kitchen floor.

"Daddy." It came out as a gasp as you felt yourself gush.

You squirted on his face. You could feel it dripping down your butt to the floor. You felt wet everywhere as Bradley continued to pump his fingers gently in and out. "Baby," he whined, licking all around your overworked pussy until you shook. Then he kissed along your inner thigh and said, "I always want to make you come. You're mine. Now don't move an inch. You've done enough."

He leaned over your body, and kissed your lips, letting you taste the mess both of you made all over his face. It was intoxicating, licking his own cum from his mustache where he also tasted like you. But perhaps the best part was the way he slipped his tongue into your mouth before he said, "I love you."

-----------------------

Bradley took his time, making sure they looked as good as he could get them. Every swipe of polish on one of your toenails was accompanied by a press of his lips to your foot or ankle. You were laying on the floor looking like a perfect fucked out mess. He could still see a drop of his cum ready to drip out of your pussy if you moved just right, and you'd squirted all over him and the floor. The whole room smelled like sex and nail polish with your underlying wildflower scent, and he wished he could bottle it up.

You giggled when he pressed his lips and mustache to your ankle. "Tickles," you whispered, looking up at him in adoration. So he kissed your ankle again before finishing up with his painting project and blowing softly on your nails. Your eyes drifted closed as you told him, "You're such a dream, Bradley. You just painted my nails and made me squirt on the kitchen floor."

This was the life he wanted with you. He'd worship you and love you. Take care of anything you or Noah needed. Dote on his family. And if another baby came along, well, he was ready for that, too. After this weekend, he prayed you'd be sporting your engagement ring, because more than anything else, he was ready for that next step.

He kissed the side of your big toe before setting your foot down on the messy floor. "Your nails look damn good."

"Thank you, Daddy," you whispered as you pushed yourself up and crawled toward him. He picked you up and carried you directly to the bathroom where he got the shower ready for you and pulled his shirt over your head.

"I'll be right back. As soon as I clean up the floor." He kissed your smiling lips before dashing back into the kitchen. He took a deep breath and groaned. "Incredible," he whispered, wiping up the floor and cleaning up your nail supplies. Then he joined you in the shower.

"Will you sing to me?" you asked a little groggily when he wrapped you up in his arms. He sang his favorite song while he looked at your purple nails and thought about getting that ring on your finger. As soon as you were in bed for the night, he made sure Noah was asleep, and then he took Skittles outside. Before he climbed in bed, he checked the top of the closet for the ring box. Everything was ready to go. When he pulled the covers up, you scooted closer to him in your sleep.

"I love you, Baby."

Friday morning, he needed to be on base early, so he woke you up just before he left in his flight suit. When he pressed his lips to your forehead, you tried to pull him back into bed. "I can't," he whispered with a laugh. "But I'll be home and ready to leave for the hospital tour at five. And Amelia should be here by then, too."

"Okay," you croaked softly as you cracked one eye open. "I'll take care of Noah."

"I know you will," Bradley rasped, now desperately wishing he could climb back in bed with you and let you know how much he fucking appreciated you. "I'll leave the coffee maker on. I love you."

You waved from bed as he grabbed his wallet and keys and made his way to the front door. There was nobody out yet, and he got to base quickly only to find Nat and Javy practically groping each other by their cars. When she saw his Bronco pulling in, Nat jumped away from Javy like he was actually made out of fire and started to head for the building.

"Could have told you to stay away from that one, man," Bradley said as he closed his door behind him.

"I asked her out," Javy replied sadly. "Four times."

Bradley clapped him on the shoulder. "Either throw in the towel now, or get ready for the longest marathon of your life."

He started walking away when Javy called out, "So you think if I stick with it, she'll admit she's in love with me?"

Bradley shrugged. "The only thing I know for sure is that she's a pain in the ass."

Bradley dropped his stuff off in the locker room and headed out onto the tarmac where Cyclone and Mav were waiting for him. He saluted both of his superiors and then collected the paperwork Admiral Simpson handed to him. "This is your itinerary for tomorrow morning. Be here by 0500 to fly your aircraft up to Miramar to meet with everyone else you'll be flying with. Some are from Lemoore. Some are from out of state. Make Top Gun look good."

Then he left Bradley alone with Mav to go over the schedule and practice the maneuvers. "Listen," Bradley said as they walked toward his jet. "The earlier I can get out of here today, the better."

"Amelia's babysitting tonight, right?" Maverick asked. "You're doing the charity hospital tour?"

"Yeah, and I'll need to get some actual sleep tonight if I'm waking up at four in the morning tomorrow," Bradley replied. "It's not just about the air show at this point." When Mav gave him a confused look, Bradley sighed and added, "I'm hoping to go from boyfriend to fiancé this weekend." Maverick broke out into a toothy grin. "And don't you dare tell Penny!"

He held his hands up innocently before pulling Bradley in for a tight hug. "It'll be our little secret. But your mom and dad would have loved to see how good you are with Noah, and that you chose a partner with him in mind. And I'm proud of you, too."

--------------------------

"But I'm hungry," Noah whined as soon as you got him home. Casey pissed you off by taking so long to retrieve Noah, and now you were running late. The plan was for Amelia to order a pizza since you and Bradley would be enjoying food at the cocktail reception, but you still needed to get ready to go. Thankfully you usually always had a snack prepared.

"How about some ants on logs?" you asked him as you kicked off your shoes and opened the back door for Skittles. Before Noah could answer, you opened the refrigerator and pulled out the container of carrots and peanut butter. He settled in a chair at the table and started crunching through a carrot stick. You started to feel flushed and warm when you thought about last night's activities that took place exactly where you were standing now.

Skittles broke you free from your thoughts as she pawed at the door to come inside. You scooped some dinner into her bowl and then ran to the bedroom as you said, "I'll be right back, Noah."

Black dress, black heels, black thong. You smiled for the millionth time when you looked at your purple nails. You just needed to get your beaded clutch down from the top of the closet. As you stood on tiptoes, you brushed your hand along the shelf. Your fingers connected with Bradley's gym bag, and you pushed it out of the way. Then you felt the corners of a small, square box instead of your bag, and you wrapped your fingers around it just when you heard knocking at the front door.

You gave up on your quest and ran to let Amelia inside. "Hey," she said casually as you opened the door.

"Can you order a pizza and feed Noah?" you asked her as you handed her your purple credit card. "I really need to get ready."

"Sure," she replied heading for the kitchen where she greeted Noah with a pat on his head. You could hear her asking what kind of pizza he wanted while she got his coloring books out.

When you made it back to the closet, this time you got your hand on your beaded bag right away. "Perfect," you muttered. You took the world's fastest shower and got your hair and makeup perfected. When you heard Bradley walk inside, you were slipping your thong up your legs and then shimmying into your dress. When you looked in the mirror, you turned to inspect yourself. Everything looked pretty damn good.

"Hey, Princess," Bradley said when he let himself in the bedroom. "Wow."

The look he was giving you was so funny when he himself was standing there in a clean flight suit looking like a million bucks. "You look hot, Daddy," you said as you picked up your high heels and rushed toward him. "We need to go, or we'll be late."

He kissed you and wrapped his hands around your hips. "We could just stay home? I think we should stay home."

You pouted up at him playfully. "But I wanted to tour the hospital. Jake promised me he'd take me if he was flying in the air show. Remember?"

Bradley stroked your jaw with his thumb, a playful smile on his lips. "Don't be a brat."

You moaned as he took your shoes from your hand and knelt in front of you. "I'll behave," you promised, your breath catching a bit at the sight of him on one knee as he helped you step into your shoes. You let your fingers play with his wavy hair as he kissed your thighs just below the bottom of your dress, and when he stood, he scooped you up in his arms.

"As excited as you are about tonight, that's how excited I am for tomorrow," he whispered as you wrapped your arms around his neck.

"I'm excited for everything," you promised as he carried you out to say goodnight to Noah.

---------------------------

Daddy has some big plans for the weekend. And if she touches that box one more time, he might have a heart attack. But what I wouldn't give to have him paint my nails. Thanks @mak-32 and @beyondthesefourwalls

PART 50

@hotch-meeeeeuppppp

@chassy21

@solacestyles

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@wintercap89

@blog-name6996

@bcon24

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@avada-kedavra-bitch-187

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@marantha

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@heli991113

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@local-spidey

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gracieheartspedro · 9 months

Text

Cool About It

joel miller x fem! reader

Description: you've only patrolled with him a couple times, which made you kind of hate him. but after a night of subtle flirting at the tipsy bison, tons of alcohol, shooting pool, and making fun of some guy's tattoos, you realize you're really into joel. after you get him, you realize maybe you shouldn't want him.

Part 1/3

PART TWO IS HERE

Word count: 5.3k

Warnings: MINORS DNI! this is 18+, post!outbreak joel, drinking, playing pool(?), possible age gap (not specified really), very smutty, unprotected p in v, fingering, oral (f receiving), overstimulation, dirty talk, multiple orgasms, joel is a menace a bit, ellie is also a little shit haha

hi lovers, how's it going? this is going to be a three-parter, inspired by Boygenius' song "Cool About It". it's gonna be smutty in all three parts so be ready (: please reach out if you have any requests or just wanna talk! I'm friendly I promise lmao

Met you at the dive bar to go shoot some pool

And make fun of the cowboys with the neck tattoos

Ask you easy questions about work and school

I'm trying to be cool about it

Feelin' like an absolute fool about it

Wishin' you were kind enough to be cruel about it

Tellin' myself I can always do without it

Knowin' that it probably isn't true

You keep your head held high while you walk into the Tipsy Bison, the only bar in Jackson. You were not familiar with the walls of the establishment, but the plan was to get out of your comfort zone. You were good at being a social outcast, and Maria, the only friend you had here, told you to try to break out of your shell.

So here you are, at a bar.

Immediately you recognize a couple of familiar faces, including the Millers.

Tommy and Joel were the patrol leaders for Jackson. You always felt comfortable around Tommy. He was more laid back and funny. On the couple of patrols you did with him, he always made sure the time went by quicker. While serious in times that are pressing, he brought light to darker situations. Maria, his wife, was the first person to introduce you to life in Jackson. She got you set up in a house by yourself and had you start patrolling when she realized you were an excellent shot. She was kind, always making sure you were looking out for yourself and invited you to family dinners sometimes.

Joel was different.

Very quiet and deadly serious when he was speaking. He made you feel insecure about your abilities, always double and triple checking things behind you. You couldn’t bring your own horse out of the stable without him checking your pack and ensuring you packed extra bullets.

“You never know what’s out there, girl,” He would tell you.

You find an empty seat at the bar. Only one seat away from Joel.

The bartender approaches you, asking what you’d like. You gesture towards Maria.

“Whatever she’s havin’.”

Maria finally takes notice from beside Tommy and waves at you with a huge smile plastered on her face. It warmed your cold little heart.

“Hey pretty lady,” She hops out of her chair to give you a half hug, “Glad you are doing this.”

Tommy was looking at you from beside Joel, a smirk playing on his face.

Joel stared forward with no emotion, not even daring to glance your direction.

“How’s it goin’?” Tommy asks, scooting his chair back to begin his way over to you, taking a spot next to Maria.

You nod, “It’s going.”

“You were on that patrol with the raiders a couple days ago, right?”

He was referring to two days ago when a couple of shitty raiders took down your partner’s horse and almost shot you through the back. You guys got the upper hand, of course. You never went without packing two guns, so you had quickly slid off your horse to find cover behind a downed tree and used a hunting rifle to take two headshots. Your partner wasn’t so lucky. He was an older man and he fell hard when his horse went down. You had to race back to Jackson getting him into the infirmary as quickly as you could. Turns out he broke his arm and a couple of ribs. He would be off patrols for awhile.

“Sure was,” You reply, “Luckily Eugene got out with just a broken arm. I was happy to be there for him.”

Before Tommy could reply to you, Joel quips up.

“He told me you got both of the guys between the eyes,” He mumbles, “That true?”

You shake my head positively. You didn’t even want to speak to him in fear that you’d say the wrong thing. He would overanalyze you at the drop of a hat.

“That’s impressive,” Tommy remarks, “Glad you got out of it unscathed.”

“My girl here is a badass,” Maria pats your shoulder, “Glad you are doing better. I know you were a rattled a bit.”

You take a sip of my drink, noting the intense burn, “Yeah, me too.”

You guys make more small talk, mainly about some recent patrols and what you found. You try to act interested, but the truth was you wanted to go home and read. Your mind was better occupied with made up stories than the stories that were playing out before you in real life.

“I think we should get home to Ian,” Maria says to Tommy, referring to their newer son. He was about five months now, very cute, and chunky. He resembled your nephew before the world stole him and his mother from you. So you always refused to hold Ian, knowing it would send you into a spiral as soon as his little fingers found yours. Maria understood, telling you she knew exactly how you felt. She’s felt loss like that before, too.

“Ellie probably wants to be relieved of her cousin duties,” Joel grumbles from beside Tommy, “Poor girl doesn’t know what she agreed to.”

“Ian’s sleepin’,” Maria says putting on her coat, “She is probably bored.”

“Tell her to head home when you see her,” Joel comments.

You have met Joel’s girl more than once. She was kind of stand-offish, intially. Now that you’ve met her a couple times, she was more chatty and goofy. She was a spitfire towards Tommy, which always made you laugh.

From what you understood, Joel had a daughter before the outbreak. Tommy and Maria keep her name on a little memorial above their fireplace, with Maria’s son’s name scribbled beside hers. You didn’t know the backstory behind Ellie, but you realized the last time you were around all of them, she doesn’t call him dad. Just Joel or old man. Maybe she adopted?

Maria pulls you out of your thoughts, nudging you a bit.

“Stay awhile, have another drink.”

You nod giving her a gentle smile, “I will. Get home safe.”

“See you around, girl,” Tommy says, giving you a half hug. You turn back to face the bar, noticing Joel’s still sipping on his whiskey.

You two sit in awkward silence when they leave, not saying much to one another. You drink your second round quickly, calling over the bartender for another one. Joel says he wants the same. Once you get your pours, he finally decides to talk again.

“You still with that one guy?”

You look at him curiously, not sure who he’s talking about. You rack your brain trying to figure out who he’s referring to and then it hits you.

“Kendrick? Oh no, he’s not anything,” You respond.

Kendrick was one of your patrol partners. You two hooked up once and realized it was too weird. He was younger than you, which didn’t mean much. But that was a huge factor in his performance. He wasn’t sure what to do. He didn’t know what foreplay was, which meant the sex was dry and not pleasurable in the slightest.

“It seemed like something the other day,” Joel notes, “Wouldn’t stop staring at you at the town meeting.”

You could not help but notice the slight venom in his tone.

“Interesting you’re taking notice to other guys who look at me. You jealous, Miller?”

He turns to you finally, his eyes a bit glassy. The whiskey was making him bold, you could tell.

“Just observant,” He remarks, “He doesn’t seem like your type.”

“Oh, now you know my type?”

He shakes his head at your response, “I imagine you like them a bit older than him.”

Maybe you were overanalyzing the situation, but it seemed to you that Joel Miller was flirting with you. You felt like he was suggesting you were into him.

Truth be told, you did like them older. You liked a rugged man who was a bit of a mystery. You also liked assholes. All things Joel Miller was. So maybe you were into him.

You lean in to speak to him quietly, “Are you trying to suggest something?”

“Not at all,” He murmurs, “Just answering your question. Am I wrong?”

You purse your lips, “Not wrong.”

Another awkward silence.

“Wanna play some pool?”

You furrow your eyebrows, not knowing how to respond. You think his goal was to change the subject and avoid more silence. So you just nod, hopping off your barstool. The two of you make your way through some occupied tables to the one empty pool tables. You grab a stick while Joel starts to corral all the balls and set them in place.

You’ve played pool before, but you were never good. Your ex found a pool table once while you two were traveling and he spent hours teaching you how to play. It led to a screaming match. You decided after that, it just wasn’t for you.

Joel was patient, watching you line up the white ball and hit it with hardly any force, not breaking up any of the balls. You just shake your head in disappointment.

“You ever play?”

“Yeah, I just suck.”

“Fair enough,” He replies, taking his shot. You guys go back and forth. You getting no balls in the pockets, him getting all the balls in the pockets.

You ask him about patrols he’s been on recently, trying to make light conversation. You really just wanted to see if your conversation would lead back to where it started.

It didn’t.

Instead you two got more rounds of drinks and played more pool. He became more chatty, standing behind you every time you tried to take a shot, giving you advice here and there. Once you stood straight up after finally getting a ball in a pocket, he leaned in a bit.

“You see that guy over there?”

He gestured towards an older gentleman at one of the far tables. He seemed like the type to have a Confederate flag hanging outside his house. He also seemed like the type to call a woman a slur if they turned down his advances. Maybe you are just a bitch and assuming all of this. Or your assumptions about a man were right, per usual.

You turn to Joel, glancing up at him. He was close, his face centimeters away.

“Mhm?”

“He’s got all those tattoos,” He looks towards the man again, “The one on his neck is a skull with one of those Native headdresses. Looks fuckin’ dumb.”

The way he says it sends you into a fit of giggles. He starts to laugh, too. It was the first time you saw him genuinely smile and damn did it look beautiful on him. His eyes crinkled a bit, his shoulders falling in a very relaxed way.

You finish up your round of pool and decide it’s time for the both of you to retire back to your houses. Conveniently, your house was right off Rancher Street just like his. You grab your coat off the one barstool, watching Joel put on his.

“We are going the same way, do you mind walkin’ with me?”

“No problem.”

You two walked side by side, your steps almost in sync. It was much darker now, the sun set hours ago. You felt like you went through a time jump. You didn’t feel like you spent tons of time at the Tipsy Bison.

Joel’s house is before yours on the street, so when you arrive in front of his steps, he stops completely.

“Here’s me,” Joel mutters, “You comin’ in?”

“Should I?” You question, stupidly.

“Well I invited you, so yeah,” He suggests, “You should.”

He walks in front of you, reaching for his front door. His house was comfy and warm. Looking around, you could tell he kept it well maintained. It was clean, only a couple dust bunnies lined the hallway baseboards. He had pictures on the walls and blankets littering the couch.

“I ain’t done this in awhile,” He says, sliding his boots off at the front door. You follow suit, not really taking in the words he said. He stares at you carefully, waiting for a response.

“I’m sorry, what exactly?”

He approaches you slowly, his demeanor shifting. He looks down at you, his stature a lot bigger than most of the men you’ve been with, you note. He was broad and brilliantly tanned. His dark chocolate hair was speckled with grays. He had some fine lines on his face, especially where he furrowed his eyebrows 24/7.

“Brought a girl home.”

His brown eyes grow ever darker, his arm enveloping you for a moment. You don’t pull away, letting him bring your body closer to his. You feel butterflies in the pit of your stomach, something you’ve not felt with a man in years.

“Feelin’ a bit rusty?” You suggest, your hands resting on his chest.

“Don’t know about that,” He mutters, “Do know I’ve been thinkin’ about this for a while.”

His comment takes you back, completely sobering you up. The warmth from the alcohol subsides and you blink at him for a minute.

“What do you mean, a while?”

His face centimeters away from yours, again. You instinctively wrap your arms around his neck, having to get on your tiptoes to do so.

“Meanin’ every time ’m around you, I think of how amazing your ass looks in those jeans.”

Your heart skips a beat.

“You’re only now telling me this, Joel?” You ask, playing up that you were annoyed. You were kind of, because what the fuck, you could’ve had him sooner?

“Didn’t think a pretty young thing like you would want me,” He says, “Now I know better.”

He leans down, his lips hardly touching yours. You assume he’s waiting for your move, so you give in first, capturing his lips against yours. It was gentle at first, until he takes notice to how you’re pulling him down further.

He deepens the kiss, pressing your back against one of the walls nearby. His lips were soft, his mustache tickling you a bit. He adds tongue seamlessly, feverishly grabbing you everywhere. Your hips, lower back, your butt.

I can’t believe I’m making out with Joel right now.

Your brain stops for a moment when you realize one thing you never thought about before. Where’s Ellie?

It brings you out of the kiss. You pull away slowly, trying not to alarm him too much.

“Is Ellie home?” You mutter, your eyes fluttering open to meet his.

He looks to the side, glancing out the back window.

“Probably, but she stays in the garage out back. She has uhm,” He gestures towards the backyard, “Has a whole set up in there. She never comes in here, don’t worry.”

It reassures you enough to bring him back into the kiss. His hands return to your waist, pulling you closer. You couldn’t help but grip his arms, feeling his muscles through his long sleeve.

“Bring me to bed, Miller,” You moan between kisses, “Need you now.”

He doesn’t say anything before he leans down, hiking your legs up around his waist. He carries you like you’re a light little feather. You use this time to attach your lips to his neck, giving him soft kisses up to his earlobe.

Joel may be a bit older than you, but he carried you up the stairs like no other 50-something-guy could. He didn’t even fumble, his steps heavy and calculated. Once you two get to the landing, he readjusts you, his hands now holding you up by your ass.

“Let’s get you out of these clothes,” He murmurs in your ear, walking you into his bedroom. It smells like fresh air, which throws you off a bit. You notice the one window in the corner is cracked slightly, letting in the springtime air.

He tosses you on his made up bed, making you a bounce a bit. He’s standing over you looking a bit dishelved, his eyes dark with desire.

He unbuttons his shirt, shaking it off his shoulders. You watch the piece of fabric fall away from him. His upper body is toned, some areas of his stomach and shoulders are littered with scars. The moonlight highlights them, but honestly, they made him hotter. He looked more dangerous, more unattainable for a girl like you.

“You just gonna gawk?” He teases, leaning down to let his lips meet yours again. In between kisses, he tugs down your pants, leaving you just in your underwear and top. He throws your pants across the room, his hands trailing up your bare thighs.

“Let me get my top off,” You say pulling away from his eager lips. He sits back on his knees, watching you slowly peel off your top and undershirt. The undershirt has a built in bra that hardly keeps your boobs supported, but it was easier than wearing the uncomfortable bras you usually wore. You throw both shirts across the room before you lean back on your elbows again.

“Jesus fucking Christ,” He says, his hands reaching out to touch you. He finds your collarbones first, before letting one hand trace the swell of your breasts. He was taking his time with you.

“You just gonna gawk?”

He smiles.

“I am gonna ruin you, girl,” He spits. You stare at him with your best doe eyes, trying to see what kind of rise you could get out of him.

He grabs one of your boobs, before pushing you all the way on your back. His lips trace all over your body before ghosting right above where your underwear sit on your lower tummy.

“Joel-” You begin, until he starts tracing your slit with his fingers, right over your panties.

“Hm?” He chuckles, his soft touches making you writhe under him, “What, sweetheart?”

“Need you-” You choke out, “Please.”

He chuckles darkly, “Love to see you beg.”

You knew he was going to be dominant, but you didn’t expect him to be so candid. He seemed so quiet and steadfast in day to day life, so when you see him like this, you knew you were fucked. He was the type to talk you through the whole experience, something you’d never had with another man. Everyone you had slept with was so vanilla. No one was like the guys in the novels you read. Dominant, hungry for more, and vocal.

“Let’s take these off,” He says wrapping his finger around the band of your underwear. You were so giddy now, you lift your ass a bit so he could get them off you. When you do that, your bare pussy gets so close him that you could feel his breath on your mound slightly.

“You ever been eaten out before, girl?”

You shake your head, “Yes, but I didn’t really enjoy it.”

“Just let me know when you’re about to cum, baby,” Baby, “I know you will.”

You loved how cocky he was. It made the anticipation almost too overwhelming.

He leans down, his tongue flattening over your slit. You watch him close his eyes and instantly get into devouring you. He flicks his tongue up and down, eventually pressing his lips around your mound. You lose all ability to speak, so when he pulls away, you groan in displeasure.

He says nothing, just put his middle finger and ring finger into his mouth, covering them in his saliva. He looks up at you, those fingers beginning to trace you up and down.

“You-” Is all you can say before he’s sinking his fingers inside. He reattaches his lips to your clit, sucking as he fucks you with his digits. The wet squelching from the action sends your head into orbit. You cannot believe how good it feels because every other sexual encounter you had the guy would go in dry, maybe giving you kitten licks, and call it eating you out. But not Joel. Joel knew a woman’s anatomy. He knew exactly how to treat it.

You just moan out his name, letting his actions take you to that familiar heat build up in your tummy. Usually you had to get there yourself. You throw your head back into his pillows, your eyes crushing shut as you take in the feeling.

“Hey,” You hear Joel growl, “Eyes on me, or I stop.”

Your eyes fly open, watching him return to sucking your clit. As you stare down, you notice him adding another finger into the mix. The pressure felt so good, your walls feeling everything he was giving you.

“Can I please,” You are about to let go, but you remember you were supposed to tell him, “Cum?”

You can’t even form sentences.

He pulls away.

“Since you asked nicely,” His lips are wet with your slick, “Cum.”

The magic word that sends you into pure bliss. Your body quakes while he still fucks you with his fingers. You can only chant his name, begging him not to stop.

He removes his fingers, smiling at your post orgasm face. You blush, suddenly becoming extremely self aware. You had no reason to be timid or shy now, being splayed out like you are in front of Joel.

He stands tall over you, making you feel so small in his big bed.

“That was so good baby, but I ain’t done with you,” He pulls you by your legs to the edge of the bed, “Need that perfect pussy wrapped around my cock.”

“Jesus fuck,” You moan, still sensitive from what he just did to you.

He groans, “Name is Joel. No Jesus here.”

He just had to give into the dad jokes. You slap your forehead in disappointment, making him grin a bit.

“Got you all nice and stretched, now.”

You realize he hasn’t even taken off his pants in that moment, because he pulls down his tented pants to reveal himself to you. He was bigger than you’ve ever had, which sent you gawking again. He pumps himself, watching your widened eyes.

“You’re too easy to read, girl,” He mutters, “I’ll inch it in, let you get adjusted nicely.”

You lean forward a bit, back onto your elbows, “You’re gonna fucking split me in half.”

He runs his dick between your wet core, which sends shockwaves up your body.

“Like I said,” He licks his lips, “I got you nice and stretched.”

Him repeating it made you smirk devilishly. He continued to run his cock up and down your wetness, getting ready to plunge into you.

When he stops right in front of your hole, he stares into your eyes like he’s trying to read your mind.

“Fuck me, Joel Miller.”

He sinks into you, inch by inch. You groan in pleasure. The stretch is nothing like his fingers, it’s even better.

He’s taking his time, pulling back a bit before pushing back into you. It’s slow, gradual. After three pumps, he leans down to catch your lips. He continues to grind into you, the mixture so intoxicating. You moan into the kiss, your mouth opening up for his tongue to slip in. He tasted like you, which was something you never really tasted before.

“Your pussy was made for me,” He moans, “Fuckin’ hell.”

He sits back, bringing the pace up a bit, his balls slapping into you now. The sounds were borderline pornographic. The panting, the wetness, the slapping.

“You’re takin’ me so well,” He grunts, “I want to hear you.”

You cry out as he speeds up, “Please, d-don’t stop.”

And he doesn’t. He keeps the pace the same as he fondles your boobs. He pinches your perked up nipples, clenching his teeth. You can tell he’s getting close, but instead of chasing that high, he stops.

He manhandles you, pulling you up like he did when he carried you up the stairs. He somehow keeps his dick inside you as he finds a seat on the bed. He’s holding you above him, completely switching positions.

“Want you to ride me,” He says, “Need to see those beautiful tits bouncin’.”

You take up the challenge. You rest on your knees first. You circle your hips, dragging your clit across his lower tummy. You never knew you could feel so full before, especially in this position.

He just stared at you in awe, playing with your tits as you grind down on him.

You take one of his hands in your own, placing it right below your belly button.

“I feel you right here, Joel,” You moan, “Fillin’ me up so good.”

You knew he wanted to cum right there because his dicks twitches inside you.

“You are one dirty girl,” He growls, “You’re lucky I’m even letting you cum again, talkin’ like that.”

You plant your feet on the bed, finding all your strength to start bouncing on him. He steadies you, bringing his hips up to meet yours. This angle hits different, especially when Joel’s thumb finds your clit again. You couldn’t help yourself, chasing that same high you felt before when his face was between your thighs.

You look down at him with hooded lids, “I’m gonna cum again.”

“Yes you are,” He smirks, “Cum all over me baby, I feel you.”

Your release hits you, making you fall to your knees again. Your hips girate, the spasming around Joel’s cock sending him into a moaning mess. He lets your settle for a moment before lifting you back up. His dicks slides out, which causes him to hiss and you to groan. Instead of laying you face up, he throws you face down into the pillows.

“My turn,” He says, dipping his cock back into you. As soon as it happens, you realize you weren’t done. That same sensitivity was back, but this time you felt the burning pick back up even quicker. He’s settling into a brutal pace, grabbing both your ass cheeks and spreading them apart. You turn your head, trying to get a view of him.

He was watching himself plunge into you, over and over again. It had to be the hottest thing you’ve ever seen. He’s dripping in sweat, his body glistening, clenching his teeth at the sight of your bodies meeting.

“‘m bout to cum,” He moans, “Where do you want it?”

“Fuck it into me, Joel.”

The words slips out so quickly. The tipping point hit you both at the same time, the spasming hitting you all over again. You scream into the pillows, biting into them trying not to be too loud. He releases himself into you, stilling his movements.

He doesn’t say anything when he pulls out, you both just breathe out loudly. You felt so empty without him.

You had never cum so much in one night before.

Joel Miller made you cum three times.

Without any help.

You hear his footsteps trail to his attached bathroom, hearing some water run from the faucet. You return to laying on your back, unsure if you could trust your legs to stand. Joel’s figure returns to the room, a damp rag in his hands. He smirks at you all the while nudging your legs apart. He slowly drags the rag around your sensitive area, making sure to get any cum that was leaking out of you. After he cleans you up, he wipes off his dick a bit.

He tosses the rag into a basket of clothes nearby.

“You want any water?”

You take note to how gentle and sweet he was being after being so aggressive towards you before. It was a side of Joel you really appreciated. He wasn’t talking down to you, he genuinely took your needs into account.

“I think I’ll be okay,” You respond, your eyes finally shutting, “Don’t think I’ll be able to walk home.”

“You can stay,” He grumbles, walking to the side of the bed, “We both have patrol in the morning anyway.”

Your eyes fly open, “Shit, I do! Wait-”

“Yeah I’m on with you. For the rest of the week.”

You could scream. This man just gave you the best dick of your life and now you had to patrol with him? You didn’t know how you’d be able to contain yourself.

“Fuck,” You place your hands over your face. You settle in the thought that you needed to sleep if you were going to be alive for morning patrol and you’d worry about your horny desires for Joel.

“C’mere,” He says, pulling you further up the bed. He positions you next to him in the bed, pulling some covers over you, leaving your boobs still out for his viewing pleasure. He wrapped one arm under you, letting it rest around your neck.

His sheets were flannel and so warm. His scent overtook you as soon as you relaxed into the pillows. One of them is the one you bite into earlier.

You felt at peace, wanting to stay in this spot for as long as possible.

“I’ll wake you a bit earlier so you can go home and get dressed,” He grumbles, “And…”

You don’t even realize how tired you are. Before Joel can finish his sentence, you fall into a deep slumber, praying sunrise doesn’t come too quickly.

You wake up when it’s still dark outside. Joel woke you up with a gentle nudge. You shoot up, scared for a moment before you take in your environment. You realize he’s fully dressed already. You groan, rubbing your eyes.

When you start to slip out of bed, you start realizing you’re still completely naked.

And in Joel’s bed.

You plant your feet on the wooden floorboards, using the light from the one lamp in the corner of the room to find your clothes. You could not find your panties for the life of you, so you give up and just shove your legs into your jeans and throw your shirt over your head. Joel lets you wake up in silence, not asking you questions until you make it downstairs.

“I’ll see you at the stables,” He mutters, pouring warm water into a mug that has a tea bag hanging off of it, “You go get changed.”

He was being short, you could tell. You feel a sinking feeling, like he probably regretted what happened last night. Before you could respond, the back door swings open and a smaller frame enters the dark house.

“Ellie,” Joel hisses, “What are you doing up?”

Her tired eyes are on you. You freeze in your spot, not knowing how to react or what to say. Your head just races with shitshitshitshit.

“I knew I heard your voice last night!” She laughs, “Y’all have fun?”

Your cheeks heat up instantly, not able to think of a response.

“Ellie!” His voice is stern and borderline scary, “Go back to your room, now.”

It was a demand.

She just chuckles, grabbing the door handle and pulling it close.

“See you around, Joel’s lady friend.”

You stand there completely dumbfounded and embarrassed. Joel sips on his hot tea, not really paying attention to your response to Ellie calling you his lady friend.

“Go get dressed.”

It was another demand. It sent shockwaves through your body. Maybe your sinking feeling was correct.

Joel only did what he did last night because of the alcohol. It didn’t change how he’d treat or talk to you in real life. You kind of wished he’d just be cruel about it. Like he would just read your mind and tell you how stupid you were to think this would change anything.

You felt like a fool. You don’t say anything as you walk to the door and put on your boots. As you walk out of the house, you promise yourself to take it one minute at a time. Don’t overthink everything. Just let it be a one night stand. Don’t make it about your feelings. Be cool about it.

#joel miller x reader #the last of us #joel miller #joel miller the last of us #joel miller fic #joel miller smut #pedro pascal #joel miller one shot #joel miller x you #joel miller fanfic #joel miller fanfiction #joel miller angst #tlou smut #joel miller tlou #tlou hbo #tlou fanfiction

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ellieslittlewh0re · 10 months

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𝐋𝐞𝐭 𝐭𝐡𝐞 𝐥𝐢𝐠𝐡𝐭 𝐢𝐧 (𝐩𝐚𝐫𝐭 𝟏)

* ೃ⁀➷ part 2 - part 3

pairings - farmers daughter! reader x farmhand! ellie

summary - your dad hires a stranger to help out around the farm

additional tags - inexperienced but flirty reader, shy/loser ellie, cowboy boot wearing ellie, mutual pinning, slight masturbation mention (e!), e! w/ a southern accent??, eventual smut, (nothing too crazy happens in this part it’s mostly just setting vibes lol)

Beads of sweat collected on the bridge of your nose, and your thighs stuck together as you sat on the porch swing, just lazily swinging back and forth, using your tippy toes to keep the momentum going.

You look out over the vast pasture- green as far as the eye can see, with nothing to distract from the country landscape except for some power lines out in the distance.

Even with the sun starting to set- it was still unbelievably hot.

"Keep goin' like that and you're gonna die of a heat stroke."

You yell to your father who was working under the hood of his rusty truck. Usually, he pays no mind to your nagging, but this time it seemed to work- or perhaps he was just finished for the night.

He shuts the hood, slamming it with a metallic thud before wiping his hands on a greasy rag.

His boots rang loudly against the hallow wooden stairs of the porch, looking down at you through bushy eyebrows.

"I don't need your sass, kid."

You roll your eyes at his comment. He's always been stubborn and tough, but in his old age, you can't help but worry. His cheeks have hallowed over the years, sun spots forming from the countless hours working on the farm, and his movements became slowed from the hard work catching up to him.

"I wouldn't sass if you'd just listen. Seriously, it's okay to hire someone to help. no one is gonna shame you for that." You pester affectionately, standing from the swing to open the screen door and enter the house with him following behind.

You follow him to the kitchen, listing all the reasons why he should have help.

One: he's getting old.

Two: his knee has never been the same since he had that operation done 4 years ago.

Three: the farm is too big and demanding to tend to alone.

"Okay- enough.. you sound just like your mother sometimes I swear." He hold a hand up, pausing you mid-ramble, and takes a sip from the glass he filled from the tap.

You pouted, and once again, your suggestions felt shot down.

He finishes the water, wiping his beard with the back of his hand.

"I actually have someone comin' by tomorrow. They were recommended t' me by Phillip at the feed store."

Your eyes lighten up, a smile grows on your face, and you finally feel like you can breathe, knowing that the hardships wouldn't be your dads alone anymore.

You rush around the kitchen island, placing a kiss to your dads cheek and squeezed him tight.

"Thank you! I can't wait- I'll have to bake em' something sweet tonight."

"Alright- settle down-" he pushes you away slightly with a smile on his weathered face. Truly an adoring annoyance that only a parent could love.

Your old man calls it a night, showering and off to bed he went, but you? Oh- you were busy. You tried your hardest to keep the sound down to a minimum, bowls, and kitchen utensils splayed on the counters.

A small apron draped around your waist, flour smudged on your cheekbone as you pulled the blueberry scones out of the oven. A satisfied smile grows on your face as you observe your work and finishing of the pastries with a dusting of powdered sugar.

Maybe, you were going a tad bit overboard, but the truth is, you were painfully lonely. The only time you had any visitors on the farm was when you held pumpkin patches in the fall, but even then, it was always young families that didn't bother to stay around for too long.

You go upstairs, a slight pep in your step as you did so. You showered and put in your favorite pajamas- a short, soft floral patterned dress with bows that secured the straps.

You tossed in bed, sleep not being in favor since your mind was still wide awake. You try to picture what they would look like- what they sounded like.

Was he tall? Around your age, or is he just another old man like your father? Maybe they're not a man at all.

It's best not to get ahead of yourself; whoever this person is, they are coming to work for your dad and not to become your friend.

You slept lightly, and your senses became more aware as a muted thud rang outside your second-story bedroom window. You open your eyes slowly, blinking away the sleepy confusion as dust particles dance in the sunbeams of your room.

It took you a few seconds to realize why today was so important, but once you remembered- it had you scattering out of bed to your window, pulling back the sheer laced curtains, and taking a peak outside.

There was a truck you didn't recognize parked in the driveway. It was slightly newer than your dad's, but that's not saying much; a simple 2-door with an extended bed, slightly lifted with sturdy-looking tires.

A slim figure stood next to the driver's side door, hands on their hips as they looked up at the house. To your surprise, it wasn't a man at all.

You squint, trying to get a better look at her without realizing how big of a creep you are being.

Her hair shined a brilliant shade of auburn in the morning light, a brown button up shirt with the sleep rolled up to her elbows, slightly flared and worn denim jeans hugged her hips with brown cowboy boots that seemed to match the leather of her belt.

You caught a glimpse of something on her arm, dark lines that disrupted her pale skin. It was a tattoo, although you could make out the details of the design.

She looked the part of someone who knows how to run a farm, but something about her seemed so out of place- almost like she was too pretty for such a dirty job.

While you were too busy eyeing her up and down, you didn't realize she had caught you. She put her hand up, holding it there for a second before bringing it back down to her side. You wave back, a slight wiggle of you fingertips which made her smile.

You watch her walk out of the frame of your window before sitting on the edge of your bed- your fingers grasping at the embroidered comforter. You had this weird feeling in your tummy; it was something you couldn't explain, almost like nausea but also like when you go on a big rollercoaster.

You felt nervous but excited all at the same time. You figured it was because she was around your age, maybe slightly older- shrugging it off as you got up and got ready for the day.

You brush your hair before tying it into two loose braids, finishing it with light pink ribbons at the ends. You wanted to put a little more effort into your appearance today since you're meeting someone new, and as daddy always said, "First impressions are the most important."

You take a deep breath in the last most of solitude of your room before making your way down the stairs, the conversation between the stranger and your father growing louder and louder from the kitchen as you inched closer.

"There she is-" your dad motions an arm in your direction, the stranger immediacy turning to meet your face.

"Ellie, this is my daughter, y/n, and y/n, this is Ellie."

"It's nice t' meet you, Ellie." You said in your sweetest voice you could muster as you walk towards her, holding a hand out.

"Likewise." She smiles, taking your hand in hers and shakes it firmly. She seemed respectful, maybe even a little flustered- seeing that her cheeks started to turn a deep shade of pink.

Upon seeing her closer, it didn't help settle your nerves. She was gorgeous; freckles adorned her alabaster skin, a scar that ran through her eyebrow and upper lip, and her eyes a mossy shade of green with dark, long lashes framing the shape.

She was honestly the prettiest girl you've ever seen but not in the same way you were often described. There was a boyish charm to her that you had never seen before.

"Well- best we get to it then." Your dad chimes in, causing you to let go of the calloused hand that you hadn't realized you were still holding onto.

"I'll see you around Ellie." You just barely make audible to her, bitting down on your bottom lip before turning on your heel and leaving them to do their jobs.

Ellie was almost speechless upon meeting you. Never in a million years did she ever think a girl like you could live in this small country town, but fuck, leave it to her luck- you were the boss's daughter, which means you were off limits.

You didn't make it easy on her either, prancing around in your little summer dress that flowed with your movements, rising dangerously high when you would turn around, almost giving her a peek of your ass.

Ellie swallowed hard each time, the saliva filling her mouth with all the dirty thoughts she had- which mostly consisted of you underneath her, completely naked and trembling after she forced a 4th orgasm out of you.

The sun was starting to set, blanketing the canvas in shades of orange and pink, and to your disappointment- Ellie would be leaving soon.

She was walking towards her truck, slightly dragging her feet from exhaustion, and you're happy she did so. It gave you enough time to run out of the house barefoot, container filled with the homemade goods in your hands.

"Ellie!-" you called out to her which made her turn around, her hand opening the driver side door.

You nearly bump into her, slightly out of breath as you held up the tupperware with both of your hands.

"Sorry- I made them last night, must've forgotten in to give 'em' to you earlier." Again, your voice is so sweet and innocent- like honey coated candies on her tongue.

A smirk grows on her face, taking the gift from you to inspect them.

"That's mighty kind of you.. oh no, are these blueberries?"

Your face contorts to concern, and Ellie can't help but think how fucking cute you look all worried like that.

"Yeah, why? Do you not like 'em?" You pout, almost like you're on the verge of tears

A low chuckle reverberates in her throat, "I'm just messing with you, doll. They look delicious."

"Meanie."

A few seconds of silence go by, and Ellie looks everywhere except your face, and I mean everywhere- including the plushness of your breast that spilled over the top of your dress - she couldn't have you knowing how red her cheeks are right now.

"I'll see you tomorrow?" She said it almost like a question- as if you'd miss out on such an opportunity.

"See you tomorrow, Ellie. Goodnight." You stand on your tippy toes, planting a quick kiss on the rounds of her cheeks, and run back inside, leaving Ellie in full panic mode.

She gets into her truck, taking a moment to herself before turning over the engine. Her fingers tighten around the steering wheel as she replays it in her head. She felt like she could combust, literally and figuratively- her head came down to rest on the wheel, and her cheeks ached from the smile that wouldn't seem to leave her lips.

In fact- she thought about it all night long. When she showered, when she laid in bed trying to sleep, she was tingling, an ache growing inside the depths of her stomach.

I mean, could you blame her? You didn't try to hide how hard you stared or how flirtatious you were towards her.

Maybe you were just like that with everyone.

Still- it didn't stop her. And It didn't stop her hand from slipping into the waistband of her checkered pajama pants, and it definitely didn't stop her from fingering herself to thoughts of you.

She came hard that night, harder than she had before, and she can't help but wonder- if simply her imagines of you felt this good, how would fucking you for real feel?

❥ taglist - @machetegirl109

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nellasbookplanet · 4 months

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Book recs: Queer science fiction, part 1

There is a lot of queer sf out there, and I read a lot of sf. When I started working on this list, I quickly realized it was impossible to include all that I've read and enjoyed in one single rec post. Thus, this is the first of so far three queer sci-fi book rec posts.

A note: queer here does not necessarily mean "guarantee of an f/f or m/m ship with a happy ending", but rather simply a significant presence of queerness. Some of the books feature no romance but has a same gender attracted/trans/a-spectrum lead, or features an m/f relationship with bisexual, trans or aro/ace characters, or simply features a world-building which is heavily queer inclusive in ways that don't always compare to our own ideas of sexuality and gender. I have however disqualified works where the only queer presence is along the lines of "gay best friend" or a blink and you'll miss it confirmation that never comes up again.

Previous book rec posts:

Really cool fantasy worldbuilding, really cool sci-fi worldbuilding, dark sapphic romances, mermaid books, vampire books, many worlds: portal fantasies, many worlds: alternate timelines, robots and artificial intelligences, post- and transhumanism, alien intelligences

For more details on the books, continue under the readmore. Titles marked with * are my personal favorites. And as always, feel free to share your own recs in the notes!

The Light Brigade by Kameron Hurley*

Dietz is a soldier in the war between Earth and Mars - to travel to the battle front, she and her fellow soldiers are broken down into light to be able to quickly travel across space. But something keeps going wrong with Dietz's travels; her memories don't match up with the mission briefs, as she experiences time itself turning in on itself. Is she going mad? Or are the things she's learning skipping through time the truth - and the war that's stealing her life the lie? A mindfuck of a book that's scathing in its critique of fascism and war. Features a sapphic lead but no romance.

A Psalm for the Wild-Built (Monk and Robot duology) by Becky Chambers

Novella. Long ago, robots, upon gaining sentience, simply laid down their work and walked into the wilderness. Long after, a tea monk looking for purpose follows after them into the wilds, where they come across one of the robots seeking its own sort of answers. While not plotless, this story focuses more on character and vibes over plot. Also has a nonbinary main character and features conversations on gender between human and robot.

Meet Me In Another Life by Catriona Silvey*

Thora and Santi are strangers, brought together by a coincidence and torn apart just as abruptly when tragedy strikes. But this is neither the first nor the last time they meet - again and again they encounter each other, as friends, lovers, enemies, family, every time recognizing in each other a familiarity no one else carries. But with every new life, a mysterious danger grows ever closer, forcing them to find out the truth of their connection. This is a puzzle-box of a story that goes some entirely unexpected places in a very wild ride, featuring a bisexual co-lead.

The Archive Undying (The Downworld Sequence) by Emma Mieko Candon

In a world where AI gods sometimes lose their minds and take entire populations down with them, Sunai was the only survivor when his god went down. In the 17 years since, he has wandered on his own, unable to either die or age, drowning his sorrows in drink and men. But his attempts to flee his past comes to a stop as he is forced back into the struggle between man and machine. Featuring some pretty wild world building and narrative techniques, this book will definitely confuse you, but it is worth the experience.

The Paradox Hotel by Rob Hart

January Cole works security at the Paradox Hotel, last stop for tourists heading for the timeport, which allows them to travel to and witness any moment in time. But years of proximity to the timeport has left its damage on January, making her unstuck in time, letting her relive memories of her dead lover even as her sanity slips away bit by bit. As she starts witnessing proof of a horrible crime in the hotel that no one else can see, January must race against her own mind, a killer, and time itself to solve it before it's too late.

A Fractured Infinity by Nathan Tavares

Hayes Figueiredo is a struggling film-maker who wants to finish his documentary, whose life gets turned upside down when handsome physicist Yusuf Hassan enters his life, claiming an alternate version of him is a great inventor who’s sent a mysterious device to their universe. As Hayes gets drawn deeper into the conspiracy - and his feelings for Yusuf intensify - he has to decide just how far he’s prepared to go to win the life and the love he wants. Featuring a very gay and very morally dubious lead, this is a creative and strange read.

Bridge by Lauren Beukes

When she was little, Bridge and her mother Jo used to play a game - one where they traveled to other worlds, inhabiting the bodies of their other selves. Now Jo is dead, and as Bridge is cleaning out her apartment she finds a strange device: a dreamworm, the very thing that supposedly makes inter-dimensional travel possible. Suddenly faced with the possibility that multiverse travel is real, Bridge is struck by a different question: could her mother still be alive? Scifi spiced with a healthy dose of body horror and some absolutely wild twists, Bridge also features a bisexual lead (however this is a blink and you’ll miss it moment) and a nonbinary co-narrator.

The Long Way to a Small, Angry Planet (Wayfarers series) by Becky Chambers

Rosemary Harper just got a job on the motley crew of the Wayfarer, a spaceship that works with tunneling new wormholes through space. With a past she wants to leave behind, Rosemary is happy to travel the far reaches of the universe with the chaotic crew, but when they land the job of a life time, things suddenly get a lot more dangerous. A bit of a tumblr classic in its day, this is a cozy space opera with an episodic feel and vividly realized characters and cultures. While pretty light on romance and focusing found family, there is a main f/f relationship.

An Unkindness of Ghosts by Rivers Solomon

Life on the lower decks of the generation ship HSS Matilda is hard for Aster, an outcast even among outcasts, trying to survive in a system not dissimilar to the old antebellum South. The ship's leaders have imposed harsh restrictions on their darker skinned people, using them as an oppressed work force as they travel toward their supposed Promised Land. But as Aster finds a link between the death of the ship's sovereign and the suicide of her own mother, she realizes there may be a way off the ship.

Ninefox Gambit (The Machineries of Empire trilogy) by Yoon Ha Lee*

Military space opera where belief and culture shape the laws of reality, causing all kinds of atrocities as empires do everything in their power to force as many people as possible to conform to their way of life to strengthen their technology and weapons. It’s also very queer, with gay, lesbian and trans major characters, albeit little to no romance.

The Left Hand of Darkness (Hainish Cycle) by Ursula K. Le Guin

1969 classic. Genly Ai is an emissary sent to the planet of Winter, meant to help facilitate Winter's inclusion in a growing intergalactic civilization. But he's unprepared for Winter's citizens, who spend much of their time genderless or switching between genders, making for a culture wildly different from that Genly is used to.

Too Like the Lightning (Terra Ignota series) by Ada Palmer*

Centuries in the future, humanity has deliberatly engineered society to be as utopian as possible, politically, socially, sexually, religiously. Written in an enlightenment style and featuring questions of human nature and whether it’s possible to change it, and what price we’re prepared to pay for peace, this book is simultaneously very heavy and very funny, and written in a very unique style. While still human, the society presented often feels starkly alien.

The Stars Are Legion by Kameron Hurley

This book fucked me up when I read it. It’s weird, it’s gross, there’s So Much Viscera, there are literally no men, it has living spaceships and biotech but in the most horrific way imaginable. Had I to categorize it I would call it grimdark military sf. It’s an experience but not necessarily a pleasant one.

The Luminous Dead by Caitlin Starling*

Possibly one of the most unsettling books I’ve ever read, and definitely the most claustrophobic. Gyre, a caver on an alien planet, ventures into the dark and dangerous underground, guided only by a woman who has no compunctions on using and manipulating Gyre as she sees fit to obtain her secretive goals down in the caves.

Escaping Exodus (Escaping Exodus series) by Nicky Drayden

While my feelings on Escaping Exodus were mixed, it cannot be denied that the dynamic between the two leads and the way they go from childhood best friends to enemies on different sides of a class and power struggle is very delicious. It also features some really cool worldbuilding of living, alien generation spaceships and the human culture that has developed inside them.

The Doors of Eden by Adrian Tchaikovsky*

The Doors of Eden is something of an experiment in speculative biology, featuring versions of Earth in which various different species were the one to rise to sentience, from dinosaurs to neanderthals. Now, something is threatening the existence of all timelines, dragging multiple different people and species into the struggle, among those a pair of cryptid hunting girlfriends and a transgender scientist.

Ascension by Jacqueline Koyanagi

Ascension follows Alana Quick, an expert Sky Surgeon who stows away on a spaceship in hopes of landing herself a job. But the ship and its crew are in deeper waters than she expected, facing threats emerging from a whole other universe, all of them searching for the same person: Alana’s spiritually enlightened sister. Undeniably a bit of an odd read, Ascension is also very creative and features polyamorous lesbian relationship.

Contagion (Contagion duology) by Erin Bowman*

Young adult. After receiving an SOS, a small crew is sent on a standard search-and-rescue mission. But what they find are not survivors awaiting help, but an abandoned site, full of dead bodies and crawling with something... monstrous. No romance, but features one sapphic co-lead and one who can easily be read as demisexual (however this doesn't show up until book two, which has more romance).

A Memory Called Empire (Texicalaan duology) by Arkady Martine

Mahit Dzmare is an ambassador sent to the center of the multi-system Teixcalaanli Empire, where she discovers that her predecessor has died. Trying to protect her home, an independent mining station, from being taken over by the empire, Mahit struggles to find out the truth of her predecessor's death while carrying the voice of his ghost in her head, guiding her as best he can. Light on the romance but does feature a sapphic relationship.

The Outside (The Outside trilogy) by Ada Hoffman*

AKA the book the put me in an existenial crisis. Souls are real, and they are used to feed AI gods in this lovecraftian inspired scifi where reality is warped and artifical gods stand against real, unfathomable ones. Autistic scientist Yasira is accused of heresy and, to save her eternal soul, is recruited by post-human cybernetic ‘angels’ to help hunt down her own former mentor, who is threatening to tear reality itself apart. Sapphic main character.

Dawn (Xenogenesis trilogy) by Octavia E. Butler*

After a devestating war leaves humanity on the brink of extinction, survivor Lilith finds herself waking up naked and alone in a strange room. She’s been rescued by the Oankali, who have arrived just in time to save the human race. But there’s a price to survival, and it might be humanity itself. Absolutely fucked up I love it I once had to drop the book mid read to stare at the ceiling and exclaim in horror at what was going on. Queer in the sense that the Oankali doesn't follow human ideas of gender and relationships, which is mirrored in their romantic relationships with humans. It is, however, pretty dark, with examinations of agency and consent, so enter with caution.

Remnant by Kate Genet

One day, Cass wakes up and finds everyone else is gone. Not dead, just gone, leaving her in a world which nature starts taking back with a dangerous, unnatural speed. But as she tries to survive this new normal, Cass realizes she may not be alone after all - but who else is out there, and are they a threat?

The Scorpion Rules (Prisoners of Peace duology) by Erin Bow*

Young Adult. Featuring a dystopian future in which an AI forcibly keeps world peace by holding the children of world leaders hostage. If anyone attempts to start a war, their child will be executed. Greta is one of these children, kept in a school with others like her. But things start to change one day when a new, less obedient hostage arrives. A unique, slowburn take on the YA dystopian craze, also featuring a bisexual love triangle.

Iron Widow (Iron Widow series) by Xiran Jay Zhao

Young adult. Zetian is a citizen of Huaxia, where mecha aliens are constantly trying to breach the Great Wall. To keep them at bay, couples of men and women pilot so called Chrysalises, giant transforming robots. But the pilots are not equal - the women almost always die, sucked dry by their co-pilots. When Zetian sets herself up to become a concubine-pilot, she does so with the plan to assassinate the male pilot who caused her sister's death. Features a polyamorous main relationship.

Bonus AKA I haven't read these yet but they seem really cool:

Survival Instincts by May Dawney

Lynn Tanner has been surviving the post-apocalypse alone with only her dog for a long time, trusting no one. But when she's forced to travel the dangerous remains of New York City alongside another woman, her priorities are challenged. Is staying alone really the best way to stay alive?

These Burning Stars by Bethany Jacobs

When con-artist Jun Ironway gets her hands on possible proof of the powerful Nightfoot family, controllers of interplanetary travel, committing genocide, she has in her hands a chance of taking them and their monopoly down. But the family and their allies won't go down easily, and sends two brutal clerics to stop her.

Everfair by Nisi Shawl

A neo-victorian alternate history, in which a part of Congo was kept safe from colonisation, becoming Everfair, a safe haven for both the people of Congo and former slaves returning from America. Here they must struggle to keep this home safe for them all.

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wineauntie · 20 days

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quinn comforting evie while she has a tantrum. maybe her mom is just getting really frustrated and about to cry so quinn tells her to take a break and he takes over?

YOU’RE BREAKING MY HEART, BUG — Quinn Hughes x single mom!reader

universe masterlist

summary: one tantrum + a very tired mom = a bitter recipe for disaster, luckily Quinn is there to sweeten things up.

note: this is based on the request above! I got this request a while ago and was inspired because I’ve missed these three so much <333

warnings: literally nothing major, child meltdown, overwhelm feeling on the readers part, Quinn being the best dad figure, use of y/n, nicknames like bug, pretty girl and sweetheart.

word count: 1.5k

You didn’t know what had gotten Evie so upset. One minute she was perfectly happy watching Bluey on the TV and the next she was bawling crying, and throwing her toys across the apartment. You’d tried to calm her down before she woke Quinn from his pre-game nap, but your little demon seemed to love to scream and cry as she went on a rampage of throwing and kicking things.

You’d never seen Evie this hysterically before. She was a relatively well-behaved kid, and even now, at the age of three, she was tame and angelic...well up until the past few weeks. You supposed these were the 'terrible threes', that mothers online used to rant about.

The age where every small drop in the ocean for a grown person was a tumultuous tidal wave for the kid.

“C’mon, Evie,” you pleaded, your lip between your teeth as you begged with your child. “We don’t throw or kick in this apartment, baby, please, what’s the matter?”

Your words were met with Evie’s raging tears as she let out another shriek and flung her plastic Barbie at your head. Too distracted by her tears to react, the doll hit you smack in the middle of your face.

“Evie, enough!” You eventually snapped as she picked up another and poised it to be thrown whilst your hand cradled your nose. You never raised your voice with Evie, at least not when scolding her, but your patience was wearing thin and Evie’s tantrum paired with the lack of sleep you’d gotten last night, really was the straw that broke the camel's back. “We don’t throw things, not here, not ever.”

“No!” Evie hollered, her mouth open wide, her teeth bared like a vicious dog. The Barbie in her hand was thrown towards you but before you could reach out and stop it, someone had already grasped it out of the air and held it.

You heard jerked to the side where Quinn stood over your sitting form. His eyebrows were scrunched in worry, and his eyes shallowed by bags beneath them. Your heart sunk as tears pooled in your eyes, the guilt of waking him adding to the overwhelm you were experiencing.

“Q…I’m so sorry,” you rushed to say, the tears still lingering on your waterline, threatening to spill over. “Please, go back to bed, I’ll sort her out.”

Without a word, Quinn crouched down, his eyes on you as Evie wailed out once more. “Don’t apologise,” his warm voice soothed, cupping your face whilst his thumbs ran across the underneath of your eyes as he caught a few stray tears. “What’s the matter, pretty girl?”

“I don’t know what’s wrong with Evie,” you sniffed, leaning into Quinn’s warmth and comfort. “She just got upset and started throwing things and I can usually handle it but…she just won’t stop crying and I don't know what's wrong.”

Quinn’s heart cracked at the look of defeat plastered across your face as you spoke. His eyes glanced towards Evie, who was red in the face, with tears and snot streaked down her miserable face.

“Why don’t you go to the bathroom and grab yourself a glass of water?” Quinn calmly suggested, his thumbs caressing your cheekbones. “I’ll take care of her.”

Too tired to argue, you found yourself silently nodding as Quinn pressed a chaste kiss to your forehead.

As you left the room, Quinn scoured across the floor to sit beside Evie, who had thrown herself face down on the ground, her body trembling as he waited for her to notice his movement towards her.

The stubborn little girl refused to lift her head, prompting Quinn to raise his hand and slowly rub it up and down her back comfortingly.

"Hey, Evie," Quinn softly spoke up, his voice a gentle murmur as he tried to break through her stupor. He stroked her back, feeling the tension gradually ease from her small frame at the mere sound of his voice, yet despite her small moment of relaxation, it still shook from the power of her cries. "You're breaking my heart, Bug...it's alright, c'mon now."

Evie's sobs began to subside, replaced by fractured hiccups as she slowly lifted her head, tear-streaked cheeks glistening under the apartment lights. Her watery eyes met Quinn's gaze, and for a moment, he saw a mixture of confusion and sadness reflected in them.

"Whatever it is that's bothering you, it'll be alright," Quinn hummed, whilst his hand brushed Evie's messy hair out of her face before he reached out and gently wiped away a stray tear from her cheek with his thumb. "Can you tell me what happened?" he asked, his tone warm and reassuring.

He watched as Evie's bottom lip trembled, her mouth opening and closing as if trying to figure out what to say. Despite only being three, Evie was incredibly intelligent, Quinn believed it was all because of you and how you had raised Evie.

"Did something happen, Bug?" Quinn asked, his eyebrows furrowed as Evie held something close to her chest as she pushed herself into his lap and his awaiting hold.

Evie whimpered as her tiny hands opened to reveal the fabric of her favourite stuffed bear. "Ted broke," she mumbled between sniffles, her voice trembling with emotion.

Understanding suddenly dawned on Quinn as he realized what had triggered Evie's outburst. Ted, her beloved teddy companion, gifted to her by Luke and Jack, must have suffered some sort of mishap during her playtime, leading to her sudden meltdown.

"I see," Quinn replied softly, his heart aching for the distress written across Evie's face. He reached out and gently took the teddy from her trembling hands, examining the toy for any damage. "It looks like Ted's arm came loose," he observed, showing Evie the small tear in the fabric.

Evie's lower lip trembled as she looked at her damaged toy, fresh tears welling up in her eyes. "Fix it, Winnie," she pleaded, her voice small and vulnerable, cracking under the weight of her miserable mood. "Need Ted for my sleep!"

"Oh, Bug..." Quinn trailed off, his guilt coating his words. "I can't fix it, I can't sew." Evie's face immediately screwed up once more, flushing red as she reached the dangerous brink of another meltdown. "But I think your mom can."

"Mom fix Ted?" Evie sniffled, her bottom lip jutting outward as her widened eyes scanned his for any ounce of a lie.

"Your mom's pretty good like that," Quinn nodded, his arms hugging Evie closer to his body. "She likes to help you out, you know?... Which is why she got so upset earlier when you threw something at her. Throwing things at people, hurt them, Bug."

"I hurt mom?" Evie mumbled, sadness shrouding her features once again.

"A little bit," Quinn admitted. There was no use in sugar-coating it. Tantrums were natural for a kid of Evie's age, but you and Quinn had discussed it before and you agreed that any form of violence must be addressed if it ever arose. "Your mom is strong though, she'll be okay. But Evie, we don't throw things when we're angry. I know you got upset but we don't hurt people because of that."

"I say sorry," Evie mumbled, burying her face into Quinn's chest as he cradled her. “And no throw.”

“Good, Bug,” Quinn smiled, briefly squeezing her tighter before he met her regretful gaze. “Now how about we say sorry to Mom together?” Evie nodded slowly and bit her lip in worry.

It seemed to be perfect timing as you walked back into the living room, your body tense in anticipation. Quinn examined your refreshed face and your eyes that were no longer tinged red from tears.

“…Everything okay?” You asked tentatively, glancing between Quinn and your daughter. Evie’s head shot towards you before she burst out of Quinn’s hold and leapt towards you.

“I’m sorry!” Evie cried, hugging your legs as you looked at Quinn in shock. Quinn gave you a reassuring nod as he stood, whilst you carefully lifted Evie into your arms. “Didn’t mean hurt you!”

“Sh, sh, sh,” You soothingly tried to calm her tears and remorseful voice. “It’s alright, Evie girl, everything’s okay, I’m okay.”

Evie cuddled deep into your embrace, her arms and legs clinging to your body as Quinn pressed a soft kiss to your temple. You shut your eyes with a small smile as your daughter’s tears began to dry and as she babbled about her teddy and how she was sorry again.

You opened your eyes briefly to look at Quinn, before mouthing a quick ‘thank you’, causing him to wink at you before he retreated to the kitchen, to, no doubt, get you and Evie another glass of water each.

#wineauntie #quinn hughes x reader #quinn hughes imagine #quinn hughes fic #quinn hughes angst #quinn hughes fanfic #quinn hughes fluff #quinn hughes x single mom!reader #quinn hughes x y/n #quinn hughes blurb #quinn hughes fanfiction #quinn hughes #quinn hughes x you #family is family universe #vancouver canucks

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samthestrangerthingsfan · 2 months

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Out of The Woods

pairing: Eddie Munson x Reader

summary: You're back in Hawkins, and the memories keep on coming.

chapter warnings: mentions of grief, parental loss, motherhood, swearing, brief description of injury (bloody nose)

a/n: chapter one! the ball is officially rolling! I'm so excited for you all to read and get to know these characters. Enjoy!

chapter one: I've Got Sunshine || series masterlist

Muscle memory is a funny thing.

The faded wheel of your ‘88 Ford Escort was being gripped so hard that your knuckles ached. You recalled shortcuts and one-ways with ease, moved through neighborhoods and back roads you hadn’t been down in nearly decade--seven years to be exact. They say home is where your heart is; if that was the case, Hawkins stopped being home a long time ago.

Still, part of you supposed it was normal.

Normal to remember this place so vividly, you could draw its map with your eyes closed. Normal to recall the smells and sounds and the stoplight that hasn’t worked properly since ‘79.

Normal to see the Plant, and Melvald’s—Joyce Byers’ car parked dutifully out front. You remembered everything, despite having tried to forget.

You never thought you'd be back here. After you got your diploma, after all the hell you'd been through--after what happened, you’d gone East. A scholarship earned you a full ride to Yale University.

Then life happened.

Maggie happened.

Once school was no longer an option, you looked for work. Doing job after job, sometimes three at a time to make the rent and keep food on the table for her.

As much as you tried to deny it, everything seemed like a sign from above that this place wasn’t meant to be. Rent went up, you’d been let go from your waitressing job, and then your car started to shit the bed.

Hey, when it rains it pours, am I right?

Then came the call that brought you back here to Hawkins in the first place.

Your Dad died.

Not that you’d ever been particularly close, especially not after your Mom died. You were just 14 at the time and it was hard. That's the age every girl needs her Mom, and without yours, you were left to navigate grief, high school, and becoming a good person all on your own.

Your Father was...an unfortunate side effect of her passing. Consumed by his own grief, you assumed. It turned into him not being able to stomach being around you. The fighting was constant, you could never do anything right in his eyes, and he could never replace your Mom in yours. You’d practically lived everywhere but home your entire high school career, and he was either working at the Plant, or too drunk to care.

That’s why when a lawyer called you up and told you you’d been left his house, you damn near fainted.

"You're sure you have the right person?" You asked, stretching the cord around your finger nervously.

The man repeated your name, date of birth, and 'relationship to the deceased'.

"The home has been paid off since, lemme see here," You heard the flip of a paper, "'Ah, '78. Taxes and such can be put into your name when you begin occupying the residence, but we do need a decision by--"

"I'll take it!" The words flew out of your mouth before your brain could stop you.

This was a sign, the last sign you needed. You took $300 out of your savings to fix your car, packed up everything that mattered, and the two of you started the 12 our road-trip home.

Now you were just two right turns away.

“Hey, Sunshine. You awake back there?” You ask, a smile in your tone.

Maggie stretched, adjusting the blanket on her lap. “I’m up, Mama.” She's smiling, clearly just beginning to wipe the sleep from her eyes. “Where are we?”

The question left your daughter’s mouth just as you turned into the driveway.

Slowly, you find the strength to put the car in park. Deep breaths, right? That's what you tell Mags to do when she's scared. So you take your own advice, and do one big deep breath. “Our new home.”

Maggie’s gasp startled you. “We get a whole house?”

You couldn’t help but laugh, “Yes, baby girl. A whole house, and guess what else?”

She clutched her worn, stuffed teddy bear tightly to her chest and watched you with bated breath.

“You get your own room!”

Your six-year-old squealed with delight, kicking her feet into the seat in front of her. “Mama I’m so excited! Can we go in? Please! Please!” She begged happily.

With shaking hands, you snatched the key from the ignition. “Absolutely.”

Maggie’s feet were taking her faster than the rest of her could follow. As she waited on the stoop of the familiar blue house, you bent down and lifted the 5th rock from the left that lined the path. The key was there, just as it always had been, though now it was aged with rust. You’d hidden it there after being unable to wake your Dad from his drunken stupor on more than one occasion.

The house—your house, was nothing grand, but the look on your daughter's face said otherwise.

“Mama, we get this whole place?”

You tussled her hair as she moved to wander the living room. “Sure do, baby girl.

The two of you had lived in a one bedroom for her entire life. In the six years since you'd had her, she’d never really had a space to call her own, and even though you’d given Maggie all you had, it killed you not to be able to give her what she deserved.

“So, I was thinking…Maggie?”

You walked the familiar hallway to find her in your old bedroom; it looked exactly like it did the day you left.

“Mama! Is this you?” She ran at you, holding an old Polaroid.

With tender hands, you grabbed it from her. “It sure is, Mags.”

Her smile grew as she spoke, “So pretty, Mama. Who’s the peoples with you?”

The grin on your face matched hers, “This right here? This is Robin, she’s the one who sends me all of those funny birthday cards.”

Robin didn’t know you were back, and you’re not exactly sure how to say, “Hey remember me? Your friend who disappeared? Well, I’m back for good and so is my daughter that you’ve never met.”

“Oh, who’s this boy?”

You chuckled, “That’s Steve. He’s a real cheese-ball, but you’d love him. I hope you get to meet him some day"

Maggie's giggles filled the room, and you could feel your cheeks aching from the size of your smile.

She deserves the world. I'm gonna make sure she gets it.

"Mama?"

You sit on the edge of your old desk, "Hm?"

"Who's this guy with the long hair?"

Your heart sank. Collapsing in on itself, and descending into your stomach. "That's uh, his...his name is Eddie."

Saying his name--speaking him into reality made you sick. It made your bones ache and your muscles twist with rage and grief.

Just then, your beautiful daughter, blissfully unaware and innocent, asks a follow up question.

"Is he your friend too, Mama?"

The lump in your throat was hard to swallow, but you do it for her. "He used to be." It's all you can manage.

She holds the photo in her little hand, analyzing the image with all of the brainpower her six year old mind could muster.

"His eyes kinda look like my eyes!"

7 little words, spoken in the sweetest, happiest tone, break you.

"They kinda do, don't they?" You ask, turning around to pretend to organize whatever random clutter you could find.

Maggie places the photo on the desk, and moved on to the next room.

"Wow, Mama! A bathtub! i can take bubble baths!" She echos off the tiles walls, and you crumble. Falling to you knees and silencing your sobs with you palm.

How are you gonna do this? How are you going to live here and avoid him? What will happen in he sees you? See's her?

Maggie is all that matters in this. Hawkins is big enough, right? Surely, you can avoid all of the old haunts you remember Eddie going too. Avoid the Hideout and Lover's Lake, and certainly avoid the Forest Hill's trailer park.

God, that place was your sanctuary for so long--both you and Eddie.

After every party, every fight with your Dad, you'd find comfort at the Munson home. Wayne demanding you stay as long as you wanted, and assuring you that this place is as much yours as it is Eddie's.

The trailer was where you cleaned Eddie up after every run in with Jason and the other douchebags at Hawkins High.

NOVEMBER 15th, 1985

Your fingertips turned crimson as you held the damp towel to Eddie’s nose. He winced the moment it made contact with the newly bruised flesh.

“Fucking…fuck.” Eddie barely managed to get it out.

You recoiled, but he protested. “Nope…no. Just, just get it over with.”

Slowly and as carefully as you could, you dabbed the blood from the already purple skin. “Jesus, Eds. You bruise like a peach.” It’s a small offer of a joke, a way to ease his pain and your guilt.

A hiss as you touch a particularly sensitive part on the bridge of his nose. “Sorry.” You’re the one wincing now.

“Still look tough though, right? Even if I got my ass kicked?” He smiled gently, a self-deprecating pull at the corner of his mouth.

The trailer was cold, it was just turning fall in Hawkins, and Wayne didn’t use the heat unless it was below freezing. A chill ran down your spine as your stomach flipped.

“You got a couple of good licks in, I just wish you didn’t—“

He cuts you off immediately. “It’s never a question, and you know that.”

A shaking sigh passes your lips as you turn your back to him. The warm water running from the sink rinses the blood out of the washcloth, and as swirls of red spin down the drain, you're fighting back tears. “Jason’s a prick who gets his rocks off watching people squirm. He knows I’m repulsed by him. He’s not worth it, Eddie.”

You hated seeing him like this because of you. Jason was being foul and vulgar and his typical jock-with-one-brain-cell self when he’d cornered you in the cafeteria.

Fortunately for you, he didn’t see Eddie walk in behind him.

Jason was describing exactly how he’d 'make you moan'—barf—when Eddie spun him around and decked him.

He was able to get three or four shots on him before the rest of Jason's caveman friends ganged up on Eddie, only stopping when Principal Higgins stepped in.

“He’s not, but you are. I don’t know how many times we gotta go over this, Bug. I’ll never let anyone hurt you--ever. Who cares if I get a little banged up in the process?”

Bug.

The nickname he's called you for the past 4 years. A way he shows you that it really is just you and him against the world.

"I care. You're all I've got Eddie Munson." You say it dramatically, in hope the seriousness of the moment wouldn't make things weird. Eddie's warm hand finds your cheek, the pad of his thumb swept over the soft skin.

"Forever, kid. You and me."

The memory made you shiver.

Get it together. You chastise yourself.

"Hey Mags?" You call, scrubbing the emotion from your face onto your palms.

She bounds down the hall, still in awe at the space. "Yeah, Mom? Did you know my room has a closet? I can fit all my toys inside!"

Your arms reach for her, and she jumps into your embrace instantly. After squeezing her, you pull back to take in the little person you'd made.

God, she really does look so much like him.

She's got your nose, and cheeks for sure. But those eyes? The smile? That's Eddie, through and through.

"You know I love you, right?" You kiss her forehead.

Maggie pushed your cheeks together, smushing you face in her palms. "I know, Mama. 'Nember what you always say?"

"What's that, Mags?" You ask, brushing the hair from her eyes.

"You and me, kid. Forever and ever."

#eddie munson x reader #eddie munson angst #eddie munson fluff #eddie munson #OoTW #eddie munson smut #eddie munson fanfic

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hxney-lemcn · 11 months

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Just Let Me Help — Eleventh Doctor x gn! reader

summary: Getting injured on a mission leads reader to question their relationship with the Doctor. He will do his most to help them, even if he'll get hurt in doing so.

tw: Hurt/comfort (lots of comfort), injury, blood (alien blood but still)

a/n: I love him sm and he needs someone who is also immortal 😭😭😭 Also, I need more alien reader with the doctor </3

wc: 1.7k

Master List

(This can be stand alone, but the first part can be read here)

“Are you two like…a thing?” Rory asked. I was surprised at how well Rory handled everything, and how he even seemed to start to warm up to the Doctor.

I looked up from watching the Doctor work underneath the console of the Tardis, “Who? The Doctor and I?”

“Well…yeah,” Rory replied back awkwardly.

“Oh, uh, no. Just old friends,” I shrugged, his awkwardness falling onto me.

I can’t lie, I had fallen for the Doctor ages ago. No matter how he looked, how he acted, he would always be my beloved Doctor. And he never failed to fall on my doorstop, no matter where I went. He was the cure to my loneliness, someone who’d always be there, even if he was out traveling through time and space. I left my planet for a reason, and the Doctor understood. We were both outcasts in our own sense, and we’ve created a bond because of it.

“Could you hand me the wrench, dear?” The Doctor spoke up, oblivious to the conversation but also not helping my point.

“Right,” Rory replied skeptical. I rolled my eyes while simultaneously leaning down and handing the Doctor his wrench.

“His new regeneration is just affectionate, okay?” I whispered, feeling like I had to defend myself.

“Thanks dear,” The Doctor thanked, squeezing my hand gently in thanks before letting go completely.

“I didn’t say anything,” Rory replied, hands held up in mock surrender. I could see the glint in his eyes still.

“Shut up,” I pouted slightly. The Doctor's childishness has seemed to rub off on me.

“What are you two babbling about?” Amy asked, coming into the console room.

“Speculating about relationships,” The Doctor chimed up. I didn’t even realize he was walking up the stairs. Even so, I couldn’t help but admire how cute he looked with his goggles sitting in his hair. I tensed, feeling flustered that he caught on, even though I didn’t say anything wrong, or to show my feelings, I still felt like I was caught in a lie.

“Speculating?” I asked. “I was clarifying.”

The Doctor paused midstep, raked his eyes over my figure, an emotion I couldn’t place held in his gaze. He continued to the console like nothing even happened and clapped his hands.

“Where to now?”

______

“What are you doing!” The Doctor shouted, rushing towards me.

I gritted my teeth in pain as the Mihrol bit into my arm. With my other three arms, I tried to pry its jaw open. Mihrol were violent creatures, aggressive. I didn’t blame it, it wasn’t conscious of its own actions, only acting on its instincts. But it was going to attack the Doctor, so I decided to step in the way.

In fact, I felt bad for the creature. Even with its teeth bared into my arm, its fate was set as soon as it ingested my blood. Perhaps…I shouldn’t have stepped in the way, as I was now a danger to anyone who tried to help. I couldn’t stop the pathetic whimper as the Mihrol’s body slumped, and its jaw weakened enough for me to pry it off. Glittery blue blood continued to seep from my arm as the others got to me.

“Stop!” I shouted as Rory tried to approach me.

“I’m a nurse!” He argued. “I can help.”

“No you can’t,” The Doctor said calmly, stepping in between his companions and I. “They’re a Zeknil. Blue blood littered with cleythil, a poison that can penetrate even the thickest of skin. It's why they’re blood glitters so brilliantly.”

I clutched my injured arm, stepping back, “I’ll need to take care of this on my own.” The Doctor stepped close to me and I glared at him, “That means no Doctor or nurse.”

“I can help you,” The Doctor whispered. “Its effects are severely diluted. There’s a reason why Zeknil’s and Gallifrey’s stuck together for all those years.”

“I won’t take that chance,” I shook my head. “Besides, you have a better chance of finding another Zeknil than finding the cure.”

I watched as frustration danced across his eyes the longer we argued, but I held my ground. I will not lose the one person that is supposed to be by my side forever. Not to anyone else, and definitely not because of my own choices.

“Go to the Tardis,” Doctor ordered Amy and Rory. “Tell her of the situation and she’ll lead you to a specific kit. Grab it and bring it to us.”

“You’re overreacting,” I grumbled. Ripping off a piece of my shirt and holding it to the wound to stop the bleeding. “It's gonna take a lot more to kill me than a bite.”

He stayed quiet, eyes trailing the path of my blood, up to my wound, then finally meeting my eyes. I felt my own heart break at the unshed tears he held. At that moment, I realized exactly what I meant to him. How I would’ve felt if he would’ve been hurt instead. The want to help the one you love, the need to not see them in pain.

“I’m sorry,” I mumbled, feeling that familiar pressure before you cry.

“At least you would be able to tend to me,” He laughed dryly, a tear rolling down his eye. “I wouldn’t have minded that.”

I couldn’t stop the laugh that escaped me, the other option having been to cry, “Of course that’s what you say now. If you got hurt you would’ve been whining at me the entire time. I had to save myself from that.”

He laughed with me. Finally the others came back and I opened up this special kit and my eyes widened when I realized it was a first aid kit from my planet. I stared up at the Doctor in shock, but quickly went to tend to my wounds. I quite like how the bandages from my planet would meld to the injury just how you needed it to. Much better than human ones. As soon as that was all fixed up, I cleaned the blood from me as best as I could.

“Back to the Tardis everyone!” The Doctor exclaimed cheerfully, but I could tell that he was hiding his true emotions. “Best we get situated.”

“Shouldn’t we go back-”

“No, no, the threat is gone, the village is safe,” He waved Amy off, eyes never leaving me as we walked back to the Tardis.

When we entered, I went straight to my room. I needed to decompress, think. Whether it was the loss of blood, or the hot weather of the planet we were just on, my head felt fuzzy, thoughts running rampant.

The shower seemed to help me focus a bit more. Although they were things I didn’t want to focus on. That moment…the look in his eyes…it was such a powerful emotion. Like how I felt for him. But he couldn’t love me, not like how I loved him. He’s had many human companions that he’s fallen for when the two of us knew each other. And Rose…their love was something that transcended time and space. I didn’t hold a candle to her…not that she doesn’t deserve to be special. She was an amazing human, one of the few companions of the Doctor’s I got to meet.

I shook my head, I need to rest. Turning off the shower, I got into something comfortable before laying down in the room he’s provided me. In the morning, I should regenerate all my blood and my wound should be nearly fully healed. Hence why my race is seen as immortal. Our cells regenerate so fast that we live for thousands of years.

______

The smell of freshly cooked food woke me up. It smelled like one of my favorite meals from my home planet. Opening my eyes, I looked toward the source to see the Doctor himself placing a tray of food on the nightstand.

“Hello,” I muttered, sitting up with a yawn.

“Oh!” He replied startled. “Hello, good morning, how do you do?” He rambled on a few more greetings before he stopped.

“Is this how you’re going to tend to me?” I asked without realizing until a few ticks later. It was too late now, I already said it…and I was a bit curious.

A soft look made its way onto his sharp features, “Of course, dear. Anything and everything you want, just name it.”

My heart stuttered and constricted at the same time. Little does he know that he’s all I want, and I’m sure it's the one thing he can’t give. I shook my head softly, teasing but also dismissing his admission. I went to grab the tray but he batted my hand, taking the tray himself and sitting on the edge of my bed.

“Now now,” He tutted. “I’m here to tend to you, open wide.”

“I’m not a child,” I huffed, lightly glaring at him.

Nudging my face with the fork filled with food, he pouted, “Just indulge me.”

We stared at each other for a few more seconds, but his puppy dog eyes won me over and I hesitantly opened my mouth. His smile brightened as he continued to feed me while talking about whatever came to mind. Things he’d think I’d like, planets we could visit, foods I had to try. For a second, it made me feel special. Not special as in one of the few Zeknil left. Not special as in the species that worked hand in hand with Gallifrey from the start. I felt special to him. A dangerous feeling indeed.

“Let me help you,” The Doctor requested as I lifted my injured arm.

“You know I can’t let you,” I sighed. “The bandage is bloodied and I won’t chance you getting fucking poisoned because of me.”

“Language,” He murmured half-heartedly which caused me to chuckle lightly.

I let out a sigh, “How about this. I take off the bandage, clean up any residue blood, and if I deem it safe enough I’ll let you do the rest. Deal?”

“Deal.”

I did my part, my guess last night being accurate. My wound was almost fully healed, I probably didn’t even need to replace the bandage, but I let the Doctor do what he felt he needed to. His touch was so gentle, making sure he didn’t harm me any more than I already was. Once again my heart stuttered as he laid a gentle kiss on top of the new bandage.

“There you go,” He muttered. “All better.” “Thank you, Doctor.” I emphasized his name. “You really do live up to your name.”

#11th doctor x reader #eleventh doctor x reader #11 doctor x reader #doctor who x reader #doctor who #11th doctor #eleventh doctor #11 doctor #x reader

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chlorinecake · 9 months

Text

PART 1: GHOST FACE YANDERE imagine

ＢｌｏｏｄＯｎＩｃｅ | 얼음에 피 - a park sunghoon ff

⚡︎ cw: mentions of suicide, violence, bullying, character deaths, swearing, underage drinking, unprotected sex, bad ending lol, ft. ive’s WONYOUNG and le sserafim’s KAZUHA

⚡︎ summary: sunghoon seeks revenge against the girls that bullied his little sister in high school, leading up to her tragic suicide

⚡︎ wc: 8.3k ~ read part 2 here!!

three years ago

For Sunghoon Park, death was hardly a foreign concept. He committed his first murder around the age of eighteen, the victim being a fellow athlete from his ice skating team, Cha Jun-Hwan. The dynamic pair maintained a solid friendship since the day they met, up until Sunghoon’s sixteen-year-old half-sister, Wonyoung, blossomed into a beautiful young lady. She stopped wearing glasses and got her braces removed, but most importantly, she was confident in her own skin. “You’re more beautiful than any princess I’ve ever seen, Wonyo. Don’t let anyone ever tell you otherwise,” Sunghoon would encourage her every day in front of her vanity mirror. “Thank you, Sunghoon-ah! You always know how to cheer me up” she’d smile, patting his head as she left for school.

Eventually, Wonyoung started dating Jun-Hwan behind Sunghoon’s back. Their secret relationship went on for about 3 months before Sunghoon caught them during a half-naked-make-out session in Wonyoung’s bedroom. She sat on the edge of her bed as if frozen, wearing black gym shorts and a pink bralette. Jun-Hwan was topless as well, with Wonyoung’s love bites decorating his bare chest. A mix of rage and disgust burned being Sunghoon's eyes. Grabbing a large pillow to cover her exposed figure, Jun-Hwan rambled on, “Sunghoon, I can explain! We meant to tell you sooner, but-“

“Get the fuck out of my house before I kill you,” Sunghoon threatened sharply, before an embarrassed Jun-Hwan ran out the door, leaving the Park siblings to figure things out.

Some time passed, and rumors about Wonyoung ran rampant throughout her high school, most of which being initiated by Jun-Hwan himself. An immeasurable pity birthed within Sunghoon whenever he’d hear the muffled sobs coming from his sister’s bedroom at night as she struggled to get any sleep. He wanted Jun-Hwan to pay for the pain he’d brought upon her.

The plan was simple, really.

Sunghoon made it look like a camping trip gone wrong, killing off four of his teammates including Jun-Hwan in the woods. He made it look like a vicious bear attack, which surprisingly fooled the police, leaving him scot-free.

Sunghoon went on to quit his dreams of becoming an Olympic champion, pursuing the academic route instead.

Though, Wonyoung’s torment was far from over.

A group of mean girls called her names like “piranha pussy” and “semen demon” after Jun-Hwan’s death, claiming that she supernaturally killed him during intimacy. Suffering from constant scrutiny at school and grieving the loss of her first boyfriend, despite all that he'd said about her, Wonyoung was driven to commit the unspeakable, and took her own life. Her body was buried soon after, with posts like “Gone too soon” and “fly high, princess 🕊️🎀” pinned on everyone’s socials, including the mean girls.

After his sister's death, Sunghoon was never the same. His innate will to kill only grew stronger as the years went by. He made a promise to Wonyoung on her funeral, saying that he would someday avenge her no matter how long it'd take him.

➠ three years later, wednesday

“Sunghoon is hosting a party at his place this Friday night. Wanna come?” Your friend Kazuha asked you from her end of the phone. She developed a habit of face timing you whenever she was in the mood for a movie. You were busy scrolling through Netflix catalogs from the comfort of your couch, searching for a descent film.

“Sunghoon Park?” You inquired at the familiar name.

“The sad rich kid whose sister committed suicide after her boyfriend died? Yes, that guy,” she said, struggling to open a jar of pickles.

“Ugh, I could totally use your feminine power muscles right now," she cried, her face contorting as she fought with all her might to release the tight lid.

“That sounds kinda gay, Kaz.”

“Only for you, ____,” she winked playfully before searching her kitchen drawers for a butter knife.

“I mean, are you sure he’s okay with us coming considering how we treated his little sister?” You stopped your scrolling, putting the tv remote down on the coffee table.

“It’s not our fault she couldn’t handle a few jokes.” Kazuha retrieved the lost butter knife from the dishwasher, walking back to the counter,

“Doesn't it make you feel guilty sometimes?”

“C’mon, ____, that was ages ago! And besides, we were kids, we didn't know any better,” she lied, neglecting the fact that you were both well informed of the life-threatening dangers that came with bullying. Kazuha was just having a hard time admitting it.

You were quiet for a moment. How could she be so insensitive?

“Whatever," you mumbled, reaching for the remote again, swiping through the horror movie section. "What’s the hype around this party for, anyways?”

“It’s a costume party, silly!”

Although you were on movie-hunting duty, this conversation was starting to make you sleepy.

“Girl? Are you yawning?”

“Give me a break, Kaz! It's past my bedtime, now pay attention to your pickles,” you joked, rubbing the urge to sleep from your eyes with your free hand.

“It’s the last week of summer break. Don’t let productivity get in the way of your fun before school starts again,” Kazuha protested in both her defense and your favor.

You meditated on her words for a moment before answering.

“Ugh, fine! Only if you promise to join me at the mall for some early morning costume shopping,” you negotiated, pointing a finger at her through your phone.

“Yay!” She cheered, bouncing around her kitchen in a fit of joy, accidentally knocking the glass jar of pickles unto the floor.

“Dammit,” she swore under her breath, running out of frame to likely grab a mop or broom.

Ring. Ring.

You glanced from the tv, taking a quick peek at your phone: Unknown Caller ID.

Hanging up, you proceeded to scroll through Netflix.

Ring. Ring.

The same number was calling you again.

Kazuha was now back in frame, both her broom and mop keeping her hands occupied.

“You can call me back after you check that, if you want.”

“No worries, it’s just some random unknown number that can’t find a hobby.”

“Oooo, spooky,” she said in a teasing voice.

You hung up the incoming call, only for it to call you back once again. Now you were curious.

“Uhm, I’m gonna call you back, Kaz,” you said before hanging up.

“Kk!”

You answered the unknown caller, holding the phone up to your ear.

“Hello?” You asked.

“I’ve been dying for you to answer.”

“Yeah? And how’re you feeling now?”

“Honestly, I’ve been better. What’re you up to?”

“Looking for a good movie to fall asleep to.”

“Really? What genre?”

“Dunno. Probably something scary.”

“Do you like scary movies?”

Yikes. These prank callers really needed to step up their scare game. You decided to play along.

“Yeah, I guess I do.” It took everything in you not to cackle at how ridiculous you sounded. This mystery man was truly a recycled character.

“Hmm, you never told me your name, by the way.”

“Hmm, and I don’t think I will.”

“Oh, it’s because you have a boyfriend, isn’t it?”

“Nooo. Now tell me, why do you want to know my name? Huh?”

“So I can know who I’m looking at.”

You rolled your eyes at his cliche script.

“Right, so anyways, I’m gonna hang up now and you can just…uh, I don’t know, touch yourself til you’re content again.”

“Don’t hang up on m-“

What a loser, you thought to yourself, calling Kazuha back.

“Hi! What did they want?”

“It was just some nerd trying to prank call me.”

“No way. Did he sound hot?”

“Kaz, do you wanna watch this stupid movie or not?”

“Fine, fine, I’ve got my pickles and everything. Now press play!”

➠ thursday

Another easy day spent between you and Kazuha went by. After raiding the strip mall’s clothing shops (and food courts) in search of the sexiest party costumes available, you two agreed on an “Angel x Devil” duo theme. Kazuha chose the devil costume, handing you the sparkly white halo from the angel set. “It’s giving Victoria’s Secret,” Kazuha said, checking herself out in the changing room mirror before striking an awkward pose. You could tell she was trying to lighten the mood, but you couldn't get over how uncomfortable the revealing outfit made you feel. You and Kaz used to slut shame girls who dressed like this, only to turn around and do the same thing yourself. This whole experience felt hypocritical. “I look like an attention-whore,” you said to the mirror, a pitiful expression waving over your features. Kazuha walked over to you, giving your shoulder a reassuring squeeze. “Cheer up, ____. You’re more beautiful than any attention-whore I’ve ever seen, and don't you ever let someone tell you otherwise,” she smiled, kissing you on the head.

“Yay, how flattering.”

“No, I’m serious. We’re gonna be sophomores next semester. How long is it gonna take before we explore our scandalous side? Unless you plan on dying a virgin.”

Oh, the horror.

You considered her words for a moment, giving yourself one more look in the mirror.

“I guess this corset makes my boobs look pretty nice…”

“That’s the spirit! Now c’mon my child. Follow sugar mommy Zuha to the register,” she cheered in a high pitched voice, collecting the clothing tags and paying for your costumes.

➠ friday

12:23pm

You walked into the craft store and were greeted by the smell of sawdust and lumber. Grabbing a hand basket, you strolled around the aisles in search for a few repair materials. Last week, Kazuha accidentally broke the shelf you had installed in your wall with her heavy stretching equipment. Needless to say, you were left to pick up the pieces. To your misfortune, the wood glue was placed on an abnormally high rack. Raising up on tippy toes, you extended your arm, barely grazing the item with your fingertips. That’s when a tall figure reached over your frame, obtaining the wood glue with ease. “Thought you might want a little help with that,” the deep voice chimed, placing the wood glue in your basket.

You looked up to meet his face, jolting as if you’d seen a ghost. The helpful stranger proved to be none other than Sunghoon Park, the older brother of the girl you bullied to suicide back in high school. The last time you saw Sunghoon was at his sister’s funeral, which was almost three years ago. “Are you okay,” he asked, noticing the way your features fell at the sight of him. You tried to recollect your thoughts, forcing a smile that didn’t quite reach your eyes.

“Y- yeah, I’m okay. Thanks,” you said nodding, trying to reassure the both of you.

He eyed you curiously, finding your bashfulness to be rather endearing.

“Do I,” he began, pointing at himself and back to you, “-have we met before?”

“No, I uh- Well, kind of. I- I knew your sister,” you admitted, trying to ignore your own stuttering.

“Oh, I remember. You’re ____, right? Yeah. Wonyo told me all about you and your friends. Who were they again?”

“Kazuha and Maddison.”

“Hmm, and where are they now,” he asked, following along as you subconsciously picked up a pack of brad nails.

“Well, Kaz is actually coming to your party tonight. Maddie moved away a while ago after her brother passed in the camping accident.”

All he did was smile in response. You found that odd, but didn’t give it much thought as he kept talking.

“You know, I’ve been thinking a lot about those years recently.”

You nodded, hoping he would continue.

“I tried telling her to ignore the rumors. To keep smiling and focusing on things that made her happy. I guess it just came to a point where she couldn’t pretend anymore.”

Something in you wanted to say sorry, but you came to realize a long time ago that apologies lacked much worth anyway, benefiting the offender more than the offended. You wondered if he even knew how you used to treat her.

You made your way to the check out line, placing your basket on the conveyor belt. The cashier scanned your items, and you handed her your debit card.

“I’ve been thinking about her, too. Wonyoung was such a bright soul, and put her all in everything she did. She used to talk about you all the time, sharing stories of how amazing you were on the ice. She was so proud of you.”

“Yeah,” his voice cracked.

“Would you like your receipt,” the employee asked cheerfully.

“No, that’s okay. Have a good day,” you wished, taking your shopping bag in one hand and Sunghoon’s wrist in the other.

He was docile as you guided him outside of the craft store, pulling him to face you. Breaking the tension, you gave him a hug, leaning into his chest.

He restrained his sniffles rather well before pulling away as if he wasn’t just on the verge of crying.

“So, are you in school,” he asked, started up a new conversation.

“Yeah, I’m a sophomore. We actually go to the same university.”

“Really? I’ve never seen you around before. I’m a junior. What’s your major?”

“English.”

“Ahh, that makes sense. I’m majoring in Psychology, so we won’t have many classes together.”

You couldn’t believe that he was actually this comfortable talking with you. It was a relief knowing that he didn’t hold his sister’s passing against you.

“Well, enough with the sad stuff, I’ve got some last minute errands to run for the party, so I’ll see you tonight, alright? Do you need a ride?”

“Yeah, actually. Thanks for offering.”

Why was he being so nice?

“Yeah, no problem! I’ll pick u up around 8, okay? It was nice meeeting you again!”

“Yeah, you too!”

2:41pm

9:03pm

It was a Friday night and the mood was right, as some would say. You and Kazuha were dressed to impress in your flirty costumes, earning yourself glares from every corner of the room. You arrived a little later then anticipated, but were still thankful for Sunghoon’s kind gesture of driving you two all the way here. However, he’d been missing in action for the past hour, and you were really hoping that you would have the chance to talk with him again. In the meantime, you sat on one of his fancy couches, enjoying the lively rhythms of the music. Colorful flashing lights kissed the tall ceiling, with an array of drinks and snacks displayed at a bar. You knew Sunghoon was rich, but he had really outdone himself.

Walking over to the bar, you grabbed one of the plastic red cups and filled it with whatever flavored liquid enticed you from the large punch bowl, having a seat at one of the metal bar stools. You gave the drink a whiff before taking a sip.

Someone had definitely spiked the juice.

Although you currently had no one around to chat with, you tried to find some enjoyment in the crowded solitude, watching fellow party goers dance their hearts out before joining them yourself.

9:13pm

Kazuha invited herself to take a tour around Sunghoon’s fancy abode, that honestly felt more like a mansion than a home. She wasn’t sure if it was the faint traces of alcohol in her system, but she was certainly in the mood for a good time. Walking through his home’s back door, she spotted him sitting near his pool, staring at the wind-produced waves. She walked towards him, sitting in the idle seat beside him.

“Hi,” he started, barely glancing at her before looking back at the water, reflecting the moon’s beautiful glow.

“Hi. You didn’t dress up for your own party,” she chuckled, swirling the red liquid in her cup.

“I am dressed up. As myself, of course.”

“So, ‘Sunghoon Park’ is a part of your costume then, yeah?”

“Maybe. Would you like to get to know the real me?”

“Maybe,” she said in between a long sip of the fruity drink she held in her hand.

“If you could be anything at all, what would you be?”

Sunghoon rested his elbows on his thighs in a thinking position.

“A ghost.”

“You’d make one goon of a ghost,” she humored herself until she noticed that he wasn’t amused by her antics.

“Ghosts are liberal beings, free from the taxing cares of this blood and bone world.”

‘Who wouldn’t want that,’ Sunghoon thought to himself.

“Uhuh. So, how do you think your dead little sister is enjoying her boring life as a graveyard ghoul?” He froze at her question, gripping his fists around nothing, trying to get a hold of his emotions.

Kazuha was being a bitch on purpose. It was an innate attitude of hers that she had yet to break. Still and all, she couldn’t help but wonder what Wonyoung would be like if she was still here.

‘If they’re better than me, they’re better gone,’ Kazuha often reminded herself, more so as an affirmation, rather than out of belief.

“Your guess is as good as mine,” Sunghoon retorted, searching his blazer pocket for his silver flask, taking a thick gulp from its spout. Kazuha watched as his Adam’s apple bobbed with each swallow, marveling at the shadow of facial hair growing on his chin.

Cute.

His jaw clenched at the strong drink, the condensation from the silver canister leaving a print from his warm fingertips.

“Want some,” he asked, giving her a nonchalant look.

“Sure,” she said, opening her mouth for him to pour a stream of the amber liquid down her throat.

“You have a pretty tongue,” he said, using a thumb to toy with her lower lip.

Kazuha felt dizzy under Sunghoon’s dark gaze, his piercing eyes telling of all the bad things he planned to do to her.

He laid a hand on her exposed thigh, gripping at the plush skin. “Look at you, squirming in your seat for me and I’ve barely even touched you,” he whispered against her lips, tasting the rum that flavored her mouth with a kitten lick. Her eyes fluttered at the action. How was he so comfortable doing this in front of all these people?

“Is this why you hated Wonyo for so long? Because she could pull hot guys like me effortlessly? I never understood why it was so hard for you, anyway, considering that you go both ways,” he slithered.

She grabbed his wrist, snatching his grasp from her face.

“What? I thought we were having a little fun,” he grinned like a sly fox, displaying his pearly fangs.

“No, Goon! You were having fun!” She got up from the poolside, adjusting her clothes and wiping her mouth. “I don’t wanna be here anymore, tell ____ I’ll see her tomorrow.”

He set his eyes back on the water, taking another sip from the flask.

She waved her arms above her head frantically, trying to get his attention again. “Aren’t you gonna take me home?”

“Forget it, Kaz. You can walk home for all I care.”

She scoffed to herself. “You’re joking.”

“And you’re a classless bitch who bullies girls who’re better than you,” he spat, tucking his flask away in his jacket pocket before getting up to walk in the opposite direction of her.

“Sunghoon! I can’t walk home by myself in the middle of the night! I’ll get chopped up by some weirdo or something!”

“I’m afraid that’s not my problem,” he said, not turning meeting her face. “And by the way, I want you outta here in the next two minutes or else I’m calling the police!”

Kazuha gave Sunghoon the bird, walking the walk of shame as she left his party alone, dressed as the slutty devil he had made her feel like.

9:40pm

Kazuha took short strides as she walked along the concrete sidewalk, trying to get back home before her legs gave out. On the way, she found a random stick lying on a neighborhood lawn. She decided to keep it with her as a weapon, just in case she needed to defend herself.

Ring. Ring.

She answered her phone without looking.

“Kazzieeee.”

“Hello? Who’s this?”

“Oh, we know each other very well.”

A lightbulb went off in Kazuha’s head.

“You’re the perv that prank called my friend a few nights ago, right?” She said, subconsciously walking faster, feeling paranoid for some reason, though, she tried to mask it with humor.

“Where are you going?” The voice on the other end asked.

“Home,” she answered for reasons she didn’t understand.

“I can wait for you at the door if you like.”

“I think I’d like it a little bit more if you found some friends instead.”

“Then why are you walking away from me, you rude devil?”

She turned around to check her surroundings, waving the stick weapon at the sight of a stop sign, dim street lights, and suburban houses. She cackled at herself.

“Oh man, you really had me there for a second,” she sighed, turning back around.

“So, are you gonna invite me in or do I have to force my way?”

“Ugh, what’re you talking about now?”

“I'm talking about how much fun it’s gonna be to rip your insides out!"

Kazuha’s eyes bucked in fear. She never expected the caller to threaten her.

“C- call me again, a- and I’ll call the police,” Kazuha warned in a trembling voice.

It’s hard to sound brave when you’re scared for your life.

The unknown caller let out a mocking chuckle, thoroughly amused by her responses.

She lifted the phone to her face.

“HANG UP AND YOU’LL DIE-“

The dial tone filled the stale night air.

Kazuha fished through her mini bag, looking for her AirPod case. She opened the Spotify app on her phone, clicking on her “Chyll Vybe” playlist. Swallowing her anxiety, she hoped that some upbeat music would take her mind off her fear. Something in her told her to warn you about Sunghoon, and she listened, sending you a quick text before power walking down the side walk. She lip-synced to the melody, trying to lift her spirits.

9:49pm

iMessage from ”Kazzie 🦢🩰” — I still don’t trust Sun-Goon. Pls don’t go anywhere near/with him 🙏

Reply: Where r u?

read

9:50pm

Kazuha felt like someone was watching her. That’s when she looked to her side and saw a tall clothed figure with a scanty white mask walking beside her. She flinched, “Oh my God, you scared the hell out of me!”

The person stayed silent.

“I don’t remember seeing you at Sunghoon’s costume part-“ Kazuha lurched forward over nothing, the clothed figure tearing through her flesh with a sharp blade, scraping the bone beneath.

Kazuha groaned at the feeling, gripping the offender’s arm at the profound pain.

The figure pushed her wounded body on the ground, taking the knife out of her abdomen before stabbing her again and again, until her ragged breaths couldn’t keep up with the continuous blood flow. Kazuha whimpered and winced, even after the stabbing had stopped, her abused innards glistening under the soft moonlight. She watched as the psychopath removed her AirPods from her ears before walking away, leaving her dying body on the pavement.

He put her headphones in his own ears before comically mimicking the way Kazuha was ‘power-walking’ earlier. Rihanna’s cover of Same Ol’ Mistakes blared from the white pods, chanting the lyric:

“But you've got your demons and she's got her regrets.”

“What a lovely song to die to,” the killer chimed, skipping off into the distance.

10:11pm

Buzz. Buzz.

Your phone vibrated in your white hand purse. Pulling out your phone, the bright screen revealed a text from an unknown number.

What a wonderful surprise.

You jotted in your password before finally checking the message.

You spun in your seat, searching the crowd behind you. The dancing party lights hindered your vision. You got up from your seat, stepping closer to get a better look. Goosebumps dawned on the surface of your skin at the sight of the hooded figure in a distorted caricature mask, gripping a knife in their right hand. It was a horrific look to say the least.

“Screw you.” You typed angrily on your phone to the unknown number, blocking the contact and putting your phone back away. You just realized how long it’s been since you saw Kaz, so you went out to go and find her.

“You shouldn’t have done that, ____,” you heard a dark voice say from behind you. You ignored it, thinking it was just your paranoia playing tricks on you.

10:16pm

“Why did you leave my side, Kaz? Kazuha?!” You called out in search for your friend. You didn’t entirely believe what the unknown caller said, but you still wanted to make sure she was okay. You made your way upstairs, opening door after door to no avail. Your friend was no where to be found. “Kazuha?! Seriously, if you don’t come out right now, I’m eating the rest of your dried mangoes-”

Crash.

You bumped into a formally dressed party goer, only to realize that it was Sunghoon.

“Oh my gosh, are you okay,” you worried, fixing the damp hairs that framed his pretty face.

“Oh- your hairs wet.”

“Yeah, I was just at the pool.”

“Must’ve been near the hot tub, you look flushed.”

He offered his hand to lift you up.

“Sorry, but have you seen Kazuha anywhere? She texted me something, and now I can’t find her.”

“Oh, she actually left about half an hour ago,” he admitted, still fixing his clothes from the fall.

“Why? Was she okay?”

“Yes, ____, she was perfectly fine. She probably just felt a little awkward and decided to go home.”

You hummed in response. Unlike Kazuha, you trusted Sunghoon for whatever that reason was, so you didn’t spend anymore time talking about your MIA bestie.

“What’re you doing?”

“Texting her good night. Even though she probably won’t see it til the morning,” you chuckle to yourself, eliciting a smile from Sunghoon himself. You have yet to learn his reasons for smiling at some of the things you say, but you had a feeling there was nothing to worry about.

“Who’s that,” he asked pointing to your conversation with the unknown number.

“Just some rando trying to scare me,” you replied, deleting the conversation before putting your phone back in your purse.

“Hmm, I thought you liked scary,” he replied.

You and Sunghoon started to trail back downstairs, ignoring the way his knuckles occasionally brushed against the back of your hand.

“Hey, uh, I know we don’t know each other very well, but I was hoping we could go somewhere a little more private?”

You considered his offer, thinking about how Kazuha abandoned ship when she was the one who hauled you to this silly party to begin with. The night was still young, and you trusted Sunghoon. You wanted to leave with him.

“Yeah, okay. I’m gonna hit up the ladies room first though, and I’ll meet you out front.”

“Wait, Sunghoon,” you called out. “You haven’t had anything to drink tonight, right?”

“Have you?,” was all he asked before flashing a cheeky smirk, displaying his dimples.

“I’ll be waiting for you in my car, alright” he said, giving you a brief hug before heading to the door.

11:24pm

You weren’t entirely sure where Sunghoon was taking you, but you didn’t really care either.

You were too lost in the way he maneuvered the steering wheel with one hand, captivated by the prominent veins that traced his delicately long fingers.

After some time, Sunghoon pulled the shiny black vehicle into the driveway of a log cabin, hidden within the depths of the forest. The bright car headlights glazed the surface of a rectangular sign hanging above the front door, revealing the words "Park Lodge" carved into the wooden slab.

Sunghoon put the car in park, ceasing the calming sound of the air conditioner. His eyes were still trained on the view behind the windshield.

“So," you began, breaking the silence. "How many girls have you taken here before,” you teased, giving him a curious look.

“None, actually, other than my little sister.”

Peering out the car window, you took in all the trees and wildlife that made up your surroundings. It finally hit you that you were in the middle of nowhere with a guy you had known for less than 24 hours. Oh, if Kazuha could see you now.

“Do you own this place?”

“Yup. My grandfather had it built from the ground up when he was around my age. Now, it belongs to me,” he smiled, trying to mask his pride.

You both exited the vehicle, Sunghoon locking the doors behind you. The sounds of crickets and restless owls greeted your ears. He had shared so much of his belongings with you so far that it almost made you feel guilty.

“I hope I’m not giving off the impression that I’m using you,” you mumbled shyly under your breath, walking closely beside him.

“____, you’re exactly what I need in my life right now. If anything, I’m the one using you.”

Something about his comment made you feel uneasy, but you tried to brush it off. He unlocked the front door, letting you step in before him. Upon entering, the space was dimly lit, with wooden accents trimming each corner. An antique chandelier was the source of the faint light, drawing your attention to the artistic etchings that covered the ceiling. This place was truly a gem.

“You looked really beautiful tonight, by the way,” Sunghoon admitted, interrupting your gawking.

“Shut up,” you bashfully rejected his compliment, feeling a sudden heat rush to your face.

“What? I’m serious.”

“And I’m way too tipsy to think rationally right now.”

“Yeah? And what is it that you’re thinking, then? Honestly?”

You waited before answering him.

“That if you knew just half of what I’ve done in the past, you probably wouldn’t even be talking to me right now.”

He took your hand in his, turning you to face him.

“So stop talking.”

“What?”

“Follow me,” he said, beelining you to another room.

A bedroom.

He flicked one of the light switches before sitting you beside him on the bed. He held intense eye contact with you before speaking.

“I’m not oblivious, ____. You may be a nice girl, but I can tell you have a naughty side, too.”

The thought of you and Kazuha’s shopping adventure reminisced in the back of your mind. Promiscuity came so naturally for her, but for you, it wasn't as easy.

“Trust me, there isn’t a naughty nerve in my body.”

“Not yet, maybe. It just needs to be stimulated, first.”

The word ‘stimulated’ hung in the air for a moment.

“Sunghoon, what are you getting at here-“

You gasped as he stopped you mid sentence, caging you beneath his large frame on the bed.

“Maybe we could start with some on top of the clothes stuff, yeah?”

“Sunghoon, this is a little fast-“

“I really need this from you tonight, okay? Just, please. Let me explore you.”

The desperate look in his eyes softened your heart, sending a sensation of numbness through your limbs. It was hard to process that all of this was actually happening right now. A little voice in your head urged you to let go of the nerves and simply let him. As lust and desire intoxicated your senses, you accepted the fact that you were more than fine with this. More than ready for wherever this night with Sunghoon would take you.

“Okay,” you answered.

“Yeah," he asked in excited disbelief.

“Yes,” you reassured him, nodding.

“Explore me.”

That was the green light Sunghoon had been waiting for, pressing a soft kiss to your lips that quickly escalated into a heated tongue fight. He gently grazed his teeth against your neck, nibbling at the sensitive spot beneath your ear. He snaked a hand between your legs, only for his touch to be hindered by the corseted bodysuit of your angel costume. “May I,” he whispered against your skin, sending a shiver down you spine as his fingers drew circles atop the fabric. You could only nod in response, too pleasure drunk to come up with any words. Tossing the outfit across the room, Sunghoon dipped his fingers into the growing wetness at your core.

“Much better,” he grinned, sliding his fingers up and down past your folds. You reached out to tug at his button up shirt, aching to feel his bare skin against yours. He caught on to your desires pretty quickly, stripping himself before you. You stared in awe at his toned body, sinful thoughts of him flooding your brain. He looked down at your vulnerable figure, smirking to himself.

“Both our clothes are off. You can stop teasing me now,” you said, causing him to chuckle.

“What’re you suggesting I do to you, then,” he questioned, inching closer before meeting you on the bed again.

You felt yourself squeeze around nothing.

“I want you. All of you.”

That’s all it took and Sunghoon was already diving back into your lips, lewd sounds bouncing off the bedroom’s walls. You busied yourself with unzipping his pants, palming the bulge that hid behind his boxers.

“Fuck,” he swore under his breath, pulling his bottoms down the rest of the way, granting you access to stroke his shaft a few times before aligning his tip with your entrance. He pushed himself past your tightness, not giving you any time to adjust to his size before rutting his hips against you, groaning at the intense pleasure you gave him.

➠ saturday

5:04am

Last nights sleep was still fresh on your face, adding a weight to your eyelids that you didn’t care to fight just yet. You were laying flat on your back once you felt a different weight sit atop your hips in a still straddle. Eyes still closed, you knew the pressure came from Sunghoon once the scent of his rosy cologne hit your nostrils. You shut your sleepy eyes tighter as he grazed something sharp across the length of your neck before leaning down to kiss the spot softly, his eyelashes fluttering against your skin. He traced the sharp object across the stature of your collarbone and the valley between your chest, tracing another straight line down your stomach to your navel.

Poke.

The sharpness barely pierced you before your eyes shot open at the sting. A shirtless Sunghoon sat on your lap with a large knife in his right hand, the fresh blood from your stomach coating it’s tip. You weren’t naked, but you were only wearing his oversized white poplin shirt from the night before, now stained with a few drops of ruby red. Looking around, you noticed countless stab impressions on the mattress.

Sunghoon must’ve violently stabbed a circle around your head while you slept, loose cotton and feathers covering the messy bedspread.

He looked up from his ministrations and saw that you were awake. You wanted to scream for your life, even though you knew no one would hear you.

“SUNGHOON-,” you tried, but he covered your mouth with his free hand, a sent of iron lingering in your nose.

“Don’t you think it’s a little early to be screaming? The trees might think I’m abusing you in here!”

You rustled under his palm before biting his hand, eliciting a groan from his throat.

“What the fuck is this, huh,” you asked, trying to get up from under him. He wrestled with your arms, pining your wrists to the bed.

“I commend your bravery, but try some shit like that again and I’ll finish cutting you open.”

His eyes were dark, void of any moral conscience. He brought the knife up to your neck, toying with the ripples that made up your anxious throat. “You deserve this for what you did to her, but that doesn’t mean I can’t have a little fun with you first.” He smirked at whatever perverse thoughts ran through his mind. Your breathing became ragged, as the urge to cry grew in your chest.

“Aww, we’ve got a crier,” Sunghoon teased, pouting back at you.

“K-Kaz, sh-she, she tried to warn me.”

“A- an- and you probably sh- should’ve listened,” he replied, mocking the way you stuttered. “I still would’ve caught your ass later, anyways.”

“You fucking killed her!”

“Oh, please. That bitch had the mouth of a viper, someone was gonna put her in her place eventually.”

“You’re insane!”

“I’m also self aware.”

The tears were becoming too much for your eyes to hold back, as thick streams poured from your eyelids, dampening your supple cheeks.

“You took my virginity because of your dead sister?” You yelled again in utter disgust.

“Oh, don’t act like you didn’t fucking enjoy it.”

You spat in his eye.

“You missed my mouth, princess,” he said in a low voice before wiping the spit off of his face, smearing it against your chest.

“You’re into this, huh? Look how hard your nipples have gotten.”

He put his sweaty forehead against yours, planting a tender kiss to your lips that for some reason, you didn’t reject.

“You know, I did enjoy exploring you last night.”

He kissed you again, pushing his hot tongue past your lips, dancing with yours.

“I enjoyed our taste”

He kissed your neck, gripping your throat until your vision went blurry.

“I enjoyed your scent.”

He grabbed a handful of your hair and pulled it like horse reins, causing a choked moan to erupt from you mouth.

“I enjoyed the pretty sounds you made for me.”

He glided his digits between your wet folds, dipping his delicate fingers into your entrance.

“Sunghoon!”

“I enjoyed the way you cried out my name as you clenched around my fingers,” he slithered seductively.

“Fuck, get off of me!”

He was in the middle of admiring your tits when he looked up to meet your rage-ridden eyes, his own face a flushed hue from the heat engulfing your sweaty bodies. He sighed in disappointment.

“You’re a real pain in the ass, you know that?”

“Ugh,” you squirmed, fighting your hardest to escape his grasp.

“How long do you think your weak little body can take my insatiable urges to torture you before it finally gives out? Huh? Making you suffer will bring all the more fulfillment to my life.”

“God, Sunghoon, I don’t care anymore! Kill me! We’ll burn in hell together, I guess!”

“Jeez, would you quit pretending like you want to die? You’re taking all the fun out of it,” he said, rolling his eyes.

The sounds of your choked sobs filled the room’s miserable air.

“This doesn’t make any sense,” you sniffled beneath him.

“Here,” he offered, throwing the knife across the room, causing you to jump at nothing, “allow me to clear it up for you. When I care about someone, I don’t let anyone fucking touch them. Yet, you and your friends managed to hurt her without even doing so.”

“We didn’t know she would take it that far, Sunghoon,” you pleaded in between sobs.

“I didn’t know that my sister would be taken away from me by a bunch of mindless teenage sluts with big and dirty dick sucking mouths! Life’s unfair!”

“Fuck you,” you retorted, feeling lightheaded from all of your screaming and crying. He snickered to himself, presumably finding amusement in how pathetic you sounded. Combing his hair back with a clawed hand, he peered down, looking into your eyes.

“I’ve had just about enough of your talking, princess,” he said, reaching for a towel to shove in your mouth.

Only muffled screams filled the room from there.

He would never admit that it was his own vanity keeping you alive. He’d call it mercy, when deep down, it was his twisted craving for your touch that stopped him from going all the way during torture sessions. Your life had been reduced to its lowest, never to see the mere light of day again. He kept you in an underground basement, lined with bricks and mortar to ensure that you’d never escape his sadistic dictation. Everyday behind those walls felt like an eternity of ‘toy versus toddler tantrum’s.’ If only you knew that a simple mistake you made in high school would be the very wrecking ball to sabotage your entire life.

❅ Thank you for reading @chlorinecake ‘s “Blood On Ice.” Make sure to check out more fun reads on my enhypen bookshelf!

❅ Special thanks to @ashgonedash for requesting this creative piece and @fanficfactoryfoxxx for curing my writers block!!! 🎂

✎ ᴀ/ɴ: in no way, shape, or form does this fanfic intend to romanticize unhealthy relationships or abusive behaviors. i simply write for entertainment and creative purposes. thus, reader discretion is always advised.

!¡update: BLOOD ON ICE part TWO coming SOON, introducing more direct yandere themes and plot exploration!! stay tuned 🎧

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drak3n · 3 months

Text

THE BEST FRIEND

ꨄ. SYNOPSIS: perhaps you shouldn’t have waited so long.

ꨄ. CONTENT WARNINGS: unrequited love, mostly angst, hurt & some sort of comfort? best friends trope, one mention of murder at the beginning, a little bit of baji x reader

bold italic quotes = letter excerpts

PROLOGUE. | SERIES MASTERLIST.

ˏˋ°•*⁀➷ ♡•°`.

“it’s impossible for anyone not to love you. has anyone ever told you that?”

there were times in which even a district like shibuya — always vibrant and full of life — was eerily quiet and void of people.

people you’d want to be around with, at least. people who made you feel safe roaming the streets at this hour. right now, you didn’t feel all too comfortable walking past streets with alleyways looking awfully sketchy.

every tiny sound made you walk faster than before, it be a cat scratching at a trashcan, a breeze howling against buildings, or leaves crunching under your shoes. you just wanted to get this over with and head back home into your trusted four walls.

you grunted as your ran face-first into someone you hadn’t seen, which you wanted to blame your terrible night vision for.

the figure didn’t move and you tried to stay calm. you uttered an apology and tried to rush past them, careful not to draw too much attention.

maybe they were just minding their own business. they didn’t have to be a murderer or anything.

“you shouldn’t be out here by yourself at this time,” the person suddenly called out. you halted. “someone got murdered right over there two days ago.”

the shiver that ran down your spine at the husky words was inevitable, your eyes darting over to where he pointed to show you the place was just a couple feet away from where you were standing. it didn’t help that the boy said it with so little emotion.

“thanks for telling me… i just really need to drop by at the nearest local duty pharmacy,” you responded. under the halfway functioning street light, you recognized a very tall boy, perhaps around your age, so 15 or 16 years of age.

the dragon tattoo on the side of his head drew your attention. it didn’t necessarily elicit bad thoughts, it just looked very unique.

“i’ll accompany you.” his offer took you by surprise; it wasn’t like you had been used to others being nice to you before. when he continued walking towards your destination, you quickly joined him, barely able to catch up with his long strides.

ˏˋ°•*⁀➷ ♡•°`.

“how could a person be a best friend, mentor, older brother and father all at the same time? you made the impossible possible.”

hanging out with the boys was exhausting, to say the least. there wasn’t anyone you particularly disliked, but they could be a lot. you didn’t really mind that they were all part of a gang, all that mattered to you was that none of them had ever made a move to hurt you or others.

“i’m saying, that’s not how you solve that question!”

rolling your eyes at the first division commander discussing with you, you threw your arms in the air. you were currently all lounging off in the warehouse, with you having joined them after they had finished a meeting.

draken always insisted on you never, ever joining a meeting of the tokyo manji gang. he would never want you to get involved with their business.

“baji, are you seriously telling me i’m in the wrong?” you shoved your purple flip phone out of the pocket of your school uniform skirt, unlocking it to click onto the calculator function. “you must be stupid if you think that three times 24 is 72–”

the whole warehouse went quiet after that. blood rushed to your face, your entire head and ears feeling steaming hot as the brunette started laughing at you. the others were too immersed in their own thoughts to listen.

“who’s the stupid one now?” bending down to your height, baji flashed you his cocky smirk, revealing sharp canines. your eyes stung with tears of humiliation.

before he could tease you a little more, because you were so easy to tease, a hand shoved the boy with long hair back to create a distance between you and him. it was him.

“baji, that’s enough.” draken’s firm voice made said boy shrug and back off. “it’s just a dumb mathematical equation.”

when you sniffled and crossed your arms in front of your chest, turning away deliberately to hide your embarrassed self from the others, a palm settled on the top of your head.

looking up, you saw draken grinning down at you ever so gently.

“don’t worry about it, everyone makes mistakes.”

ˏˋ°•*⁀➷ ♡•°`.

“i failed to tell you. i thought my actions would be enough to prove what i felt. perhaps you knew all along, but decided not to talk about it. you were always thoughtful and considerate. but i wasn’t special.”

it was a gloomy day for you today. you were excited to see draken, putting in a lot of effort while getting ready and wearing one of your best outfits, just to see that he hadn’t joined the otherd at the usual group hangout today.

“wasn’t it emma’s birthday today?” mitsuya recalled. mikey wasn’t there either. unbeknownst to you, baji’s eyes wandered to look at how you’d react.

as someone who wore her heart on her sleeve, you were terrible at masking how you felt. he didn’t miss the way your face fell.

draken and emma were always close to each other. of course they were, as her brother and draken have been inseparable since middle school. you couldn’t compare to her. you’d just met him not even two years ago.

you were slowly realizing that despite him doing a lot for you and always being there for you, you perhaps didn’t mean as much to him as emma did.

after all, draken was nice to everyone.

“someone’s grumpy,” baji commented slyly, and this time, you didn’t have it in you to bicker with him. this time, there was no draken to tell him to stop either.

the two missing blondes joined you hours later, with mikey nudging his taller vice’s side teasingly while talking about how sly kenny was for having found that plushie emma had wanted for the longest time.

it made your mood even more sour than it already was, and you pondered about an excuse to leave, wanting nothing more than to curl up in bed and forget about it.

forget about your stupid feelings for someone whose heart was already taken, and who saw you as nothing more than a friend.

“hey (f/n), that’s a pretty outfit,” mikey commented, “you going somewhere?” draken glanced down at you curiously while you forced a tight-lipped smile on your face. you inwardly thanked the leader of toman for saving you like this.

“yeah. i’ll see you guys.”

ˏˋ°•*⁀➷ ♡•°`.

“would things have been different if i’d just confessed to you while i still had the time? it would have been selfish. she was the first to know and love you, after all.”

ken and mikey had dropped out of high school at 17. they had big plans of opening a workshop for cars and motorcycles. by the time you graduated high school, they already had their small, cozy shop. toman was no more, and everything was well.

objectively speaking, it was. but subjectively? you weren’t too sure about that.

by the time you entered the italian restaurant, the table that caught your eyes was already pretty crowded. it wasn’t a surprise anymore, you were always late, after all.

too late. those two words echoed in your head as you looked at emma and draken sitting next to each other, her blushing feverishly when he removed something from her hair.

that could have been you.

“let’s go.” hearing baji’s voice behind you surprised you, and even more did it to feel his hand on your back, guiding you towards the table. as much as he was a jerk, you didn’t believe he did it out of ill intent to humiliate you.

the hours went by, and you had all eaten to your hearts’ content, now exchanging light jokes and future aspirations to one another. emma mentioned wanting to be a housewife, and the ken getting married to her made you want to throw up everything you’d eaten today.

“how about you?” mitsuya asked you, who had talked the least tonight. “any plans for college?” you smiled awkwardly when you felt draken’s eyes on you.

he had always wanted you to go all the way with your education, having supported you whenever he could. you were more than thankful for that.

“i actually got an admission for law in osaka.” the blonde sitting right across from you smiled so brightly, and you were sure it would have made you melt if emma didn’t have her head on his shoulder.

it was almost childish how you had tried to interpret every single of draken’s actions as a possible chance for something to develop between you two. your chances were long gone.

you had never stood one to begin with.

“i knew you could do it! you were always a smart girl.”

his compliment made you feel worse than it should have.

ˏˋ°•*⁀➷ ♡•°`.

“you told me to go and pursue my dreams. i knew that if you had told me to stay, i would have. how idiotic of me, right? i ended up leaving and letting you slip from my grasp without you ever having been in it.”

after moving away for college, you hardly visited tokyo anymore. and to be quite honest, you preferred that. it was good to stay away from the source of what had drained you for so long.

draken hadn’t taken advantage of your feelings for him, no. he was the last person on earth who’d be willing to do that. but that didn’t mean it hurt any less to be trapped in a web of unrequited love.

you were in your fourth year of law school when an invitation laid in your mailbox. you just knew from the second you looked at the envelope without even opening it. it was exactly what you’d anticipated it to be.

a marriage invitation, for you to join ken ryuguji and emma sano for the most important day of their lives. you stood in front of the mailbox, staring at the piece of pretty paper for at least twenty minutes, as if it was ever going to change.

he was going to get married. not to you.

all of your dreams of walking down the aisle in a pretty, white dress, approaching him with his sweet smile, crushed to bits and pieces.

ˏˋ°•*⁀➷ ♡•°`.

“i have never wished you anything else but happiness, and i still do. she makes you happy, and that’s all i could have ever asked for. i saw it in your eyes that day. you never looked at me like that.”

the wedding reception was nothing short of beautiful. catered to everyone’s tastes, it left nothing to the imagination.

the wedding of your dreams had always looked like this.

it was bittersweet how another woman was going to live that dream to the fullest, with the man of your dreams, at that.

thankfully, you weren’t left alone with your thoughts while you waited for the couple to come to the rented hall after they would get lawfully wedded. mitsuya and his sisters kept you company, making sure to recommend you everything they had tried at the enormous buffet.

“pretty sure they’re coming now,” mitsuya informed you as he stared at his wristwatch. you gulped and looked into your glass of soda.

oh what you wouldn’t have given to be in her shoes, taking on his last name… waking up next to him every single day, having his children.

you felt absolutely and utterly horrible. like all those years you’d spent away from this had caught up to you, leaving you to drown in your unrequited feelings.

before you could excuse yourself to the bathroom and ruin your perfectly done makeup by indulging in a five-minute breakdown, you were stopped by a hand finding your shoulder. it felt as if life was sucker-punching you in the gut once again.

“hey, baji.” your voice was low, and you didn’t notice mitsuya leading his sisters away from the table. his formerly wild, brown hair was much shorter now, tied up in a ponytail, and he wore a dark gray tuxedo.

when he opened his mouth, you shook your head. “i can’t take any teasing today. i mean it.”

your words weren’t even harsh, you just sounded exhausted. his grin disappeared, soon replaced by a frown. “i’m aware,” baji stated, “i couldn’t have attended if i was you.”

with a raised brow, you stared at him to explain what he meant. “i’ve known since back then.” you looked down, pursing your lips to stop them from trembling and giving it all away. you were asking to change the topic until the two would enter through the door and make your mood plummet entirely.

baji knew you better than you could have guessed. so this time, instead of poking fun at you, he actually tried to make you feel better

“by the way, i’m moving to osaka for med school for the next semester. i finally got in.”

it still stung when you saw draken and emma entering the hall hand-in-hand. you couldn’t compare that sting to any other kind of physical pain you’d endured in your life, it felt worse than broken limbs or a cut that needed to be stitched.

but he was happy, the way you never saw him be. he had never smiled as purely as he did when he danced with his wife, kissing the back of her hand that now adorned a ring to bind them to each other forever.

ˏˋ°•*⁀➷ ♡•°`.

“i’m sending this letter even after it all. even though i know i’m too late. don’t get me wrong, i have deliberately not added your new address. you will never get this letter. this is just for myself, to liberate what i’d held onto for multiple years.”

you picked up the call after one shrill ring, holding your phone against your ear while your eyes were plastered on the tv. it was your episode today, dealing with your letter.

the show was muted so you could hear exactly what you’d hear on the phone. with a deep breath, you spoke first. “hello?”

“good evening, miss! we are very excited to be hosting you on today’s show for TO ALL THE MEN YOU’VE LOVED BEFORE!” on the screen, you saw the main host move her mouth with a smile plastered on her perfect face.

you sat down on your couch, taking another deep breath. “thank you for having me,” you responded, “i can already guess what you are going to ask me.”

you heard sweet laughter from the two hosts while you were busy picking at a dried scab on your thumb. this was making you more nervous than you’d wished it to.

“if that’s the case, then we would love to hear your thoughts,” spoke the co-host, “our audience is very excited to learn about your motives and what exactly has made you not put an address for the letter to be shipped to!”

the camera angle was switched to show multiple rows of people of all ages sitting and awaiting your response. it made your throat go dry.

“i have made this decision because,” you looked away from the screen, “they have found someone else. and they are very happy.”

the hosts showed faces of surprise. for a second, you wondered why you’d even done this to begin with. but it felt too relieving to speak about this for a bunch of strangers to listen. it felt too relieving to hang up now when you were so close to just letting things go.

“which was why i just wanted to send this letter to… get rid of it. to be able to live on and stop holding onto those feelings that are never going to be reciprocated.” you had no idea if the words you were saying made any sense to them, but to you, they did. they made perfect sense to you, and they described exactly how you felt.

“that is very mature, and we admire you for having collected the courage to take this step.” the host clapped her hands, obviously looking moved. “love isn’t all about having happy endings together, right? sometimes, it means to let go. for their, and for our own happiness.”

hanging up not long after, you sank back in your couch and chuckled to yourself. this wasn’t so bad. in fact, you haven’t felt as good as you did right now in a while.

when the door to your apartment unlocked, you watched a mop of brown hair appear in your peripheral. the smile on your face only went brighter.

“i’m home. did i miss it?”

“just did. let’s rewatch it together, kei.”

“i wouldn’t have it any other way, because it was thanks to you that i found my own happiness, too.”

ˏˋ°•*⁀➷ ♡•°`.

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profound-imagination · 9 months

Text

Flightless - Azriel

A/N: Guess who's back??? I promise there will be a part two of Matching Wounds eventually! Pronouns used in this is she/her. There could be a potential part two to this if people want it and I can figure out where to go with it.

T/W: Very brief mention of S/A it isn't talked about in detail, the R word isn't used but please keep yourselves safe and don't read if at all triggering for you. Talks of violence.

Word Count: 2.9k

+++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++

Swallowing the lump in your throat, you took a deep breath, steeled yourself against the biting cold, and approached. You wanted to do this, wanted to learn. "Excuse me, Lord Devlon?" He took his sweet time before he looked at you, before he acknowledged you. "What is it girl?" He asked, no malice in his voice, but it wasn't kind either. "I was wondering if it would be acceptable for me to join training with the other girls in the mornings?" The two warriors next to him snorted, the third sneered, "What use would you be girl? Your wings weren't even clipped, they were removed." A shudder ran through you at the memory, the agony, the heartbreak of never being able to feel the wind again.

Devlon paled slightly as he looked past you and snapped at the three warriors with him to get back to work, the third still sneering at you as he went. "I survived sir." You told Devlon quietly, "I survived having my wings removed, I'm strong enough to train like an Illryian." He ran a hand down his face and you felt three people approach behind you, you didn't turn. "You'll get yourself killed, you'll be thrown into the Rite, just like the others, besides, we start training as children, your age is against you." You looked up at him and met his eyes, "I'm already adjusting to not having my wings at all, everyone else's will be bound, I'd say I'm already at an advantage." He opened his mouth to reply but another voice came from behind you. "Why do you want to train so badly?" You turned slowly only to be met by the Lord of Bloodshed himself.

"They took my wings, my Lord, I couldn't fight them off, I was no use in the war, I don't ever want to feel helpless again." You could've sworn the air sky darkened as the Shadowsinger and the High Lord himself approached. "Who took your wings?" Cassian's rage was palpable, mixing with the bitter winds of the camps, "The clan in Ironcrest, Lord Devlon has been good to me." The High Lord smiled at you kindly and repeated Cassian's question. "Who took your wings? You'll be given no trouble for telling us." Your eyes darted between the three of them and then to Devlon, who gave you a slight nod. "The son of the Lord at Ironcrest, I rejected his advances so he made sure I'd never feel the sky again and he took what he wanted as I was bleeding out in the snow." The silence from the three males was deafening and shadows skittered around the four of you, pulsing with anger. "She trains with me, personally." The Shadowsinger told Devlon, the first time he'd spoken. "Someone will collect her every morning at dawn and bring her back at noon." If he had other duties he was shirking to do this, the High Lord didn't protest. You beamed at the Spymaster, "Thank you, my Lord!" He gave you a half smile in return, "Azriel, call me Azriel."

Azriel

"He made sure I'd never feel the sky again and he took what he wanted as I was bleeding out in the snow." Those words had been playing over and over again in his head since you'd uttered them to his brother mere hours ago. His very blood roared at the thought of what they did to you. It took both Rhys and Cassian to keep him from flying straight to Ironcrest to deal with the lordling. "We'll deal with it, carefully." Rhys had said to him. "When the time comes the blow is yours, if she doesn't want it." Azriel pummeled the dummy in front of him harder.

"I hear we'll have a guest joining us for training in the mornings?" Nesta's teasing voice pulled him from his anger, only slightly. He met her eyes, "No. I'll be having a guest, you and Cassian will leave her alone." Nesta sighed at him, "It was nice of you to offer to help her, Az." She patted his shoulder, "Cassian told me what they did to her." Azriel shrugged, "It's what they do." He told her, and watched the rage flicker through Nesta's eyes. "But her wings Az, they didn't clip them, Cassian said they removed them entirely." He nodded "They did, Madja is going to check her over tomorrow when she arrives for training." Nesta nodded. "She can train with us, she doesn't have to train alone." He gave her a gentle smile, "I'll let her know the offer is there, but let's get her up to speed first."

As promised, Rhys winnowed her to the House of Wind and flew her down to the terrace the next morning, despite the flight only lasting mere moments, he could see the smile on her face before Rhys had even landed. "Good Morning, Azriel." She smiled up at him gently. Azriel simply inclined his head in response and watched as Rhys lead her into the house where Madja was waiting.

Y/N

The healer behind you sighed as she inspected what was left of your wings, touching here, prodding there, all of it still tender. Phantom pain shooting through wings that were no longer there. Once she'd wrapped them tightly and helped you redress in the leathers you'd been given upon arrival for training in, she called the High Lord back in who had been politely waiting outside. You both ignored the shadow that had followed him in.

"Do they not have healers, Rhysand?" Was the first thing Madja said as soon as the door closed behind him. You winced, you hadn't seen your back yet, couldn't face it. It must be bad. "They do, but I imagine the male responsible for this forbade them from helping." You nodded, "He did, one of the younger girls, she found me and dragged me back to my tent, packed snow on my back and sat with me all night, I never saw a healer." Madja sighed again. "You're lucky to be alive girl, you've got a nasty infection that I'll give you something for but long term? We'll need to remove what's left." You paled and Rhys put a comforting hand on your shoulder, "You mean, cut them out?" You could barely get the words out and Madja nodded somberly, "It's the only way your back will heal properly." Rhys squeezed your shoulder, "When?" He asked his healer. "When the infection has fully cleared and she's gained some weight, I won't lie to you girl, it'll be long and it'll be painful, I need you to be conscious so I can ensure we don't damage your spine." You nodded dumbly as tears threatened to fall.

You followed Rhys into his office rather than back to start training. "Do you want to go back?" He asked after he finished making you a cup of tea. "Back?" You questioned him, "To the camp, do you want to go back? You don't have to, you can stay here, train, get stronger, Nesta Archeron stays here with Cassian and sometimes Az when he's not away. She works in the library some levels down in the afternoons, I'm sure she wouldn't mind the company." You blinked at him several times, "You'd really allow me to do that?" He nodded, "What happened to you, should never have happened, and it happened under my watch, so if you want to stay here, you are welcome." You gave him a watery smile, "Thank you, My Lord."

It had been three months since you'd moved into the House of Wind, Nesta had become a quick friend to you, as had Emerie and Gwyn. Cassian had taken over the role of protective older brother and Azriel flirted between the lines of friendship and something more. He'd found a twin flame in you as you had found in him and more than once Nesta had commented on how well the two of you complimented each other. You missed him dearly when he was away, your companion, your best friend.

He chased away the nightmares when they came. He always knew. Azriel would climb into your bed at the first sound of distress from your mouth. He'd lift you gently and slide underneath you so he could lie you on top of him and brush a scarred finger down your spine until you were soothed or if you had woken, clinging to him like he was the only thing tethering you to earth and you were lulled back to sleep and he'd stay there, all night, just holding you. Shadows and wings cocooning you in safety and warmth.

But you were aware of Elain, lovely Elain. Of how he felt for her, three sisters for three brothers. You saw how he looked at her, how his cold, hard face softened around her, how his shadows retreated around her. You'd smell her on him sometimes, when he came to comfort you in the dead of night, too terrified and tired to be upset about the mixed signals the Shadowsinger gave you constantly.

The operation to remove what was left of your wings had been scheduled and was happening in a few days but you were yet to see your back, so there you stood, Nesta by your side as you slid your top over your head and nodded to Nesta to hold the mirror up behind you, facing the one you were looking into. Your heart caved, your face crumpled and tears escaped your eyes. You hadn't been sure what you were expecting but this was far worse. Nesta quickly placed the mirror back down and pulled you into her as you cried and cried and cried. You heard the door open and close and footsteps pad towards you. You knew it was him from his scent alone as he pulled you gently from Nesta's arms into his. "I've got her, Nesta." He told her gently, a dismissal. Nesta placed a gentle kiss to the top of your head and left you with the one person she knew you needed right now.

"They're gone Az, they're really gone." You sobbed into his neck. He ran his hand down your spine, carefully avoiding where your wings would've come out of your back, "I know sweet girl, I know." He told you gently, "I just want to fly." You repeated over and over and over again. Azriel had no words, nothing he could offer you to make this better, so instead he held you until you'd run out of tears. "I'm sorry they did this to you, they will pay, as soon as Rhys allows it they will all suffer for what they did." He told you. Your watery stare met his shining eyes and you gasped. "Azriel! I'm not wearing a top!" He smirked. "I know." You slapped his arm lightly as he reached behind you and went rustling through one of your draws, "Here, put this on." He said as he handed you a t-shirt that definitely belonged to him, how it had ended up here you weren't sure but you slipped it on over your head anyway.

Azriel stood, still cradling you in his arms as he started to make his way through the house, you were content not to ask questions so you simply wrapped your arms around his neck and rested your head on his shoulder. As you passed through the dining room Cassian opened his mouth to tease you both but was cut off by Azriel, "Not now, Cass, we're busy." He told his brother as he walked past, Cassian looked down at his Mate who was curled in his lap and shrugged as she laughed. You waved at them both as you went.

The cold air hit you like you'd been plunged into ice water and you tighten your grip around Azriel's neck in an attempt to steal his warmth. "Why are we out here, Az?" You mumbled into his neck, you felt his arms tighten around you, heard his wings unfurl as he said "Flying." Before he shot into the stars.

Azriel

Azriel couldn't think of anything but her at that moment. He watched her eyes open from his sudden take off and light up. He watched her face split into a grin as he flew. "Do you trust me?" He shouted to her over the sound of the wind, she nodded at him without hesitation. Azriel let go of her legs and had both hands under her arms in less than a second, the sight of them must've been ridiculous and he could already hear his brothers teasing remarks if they were to see them. She was laughing now as she hung from his hands, full, beautiful, melodic laughter and a piece of that icy rage that had engulfed him for centuries thawed at the sound and he allowed a rare laugh in response.

He'd flown with her for hours before landing on a grassy hilltop. She threw her arms around his neck and he breathed her in. She was still grinning and Azriel decided at that moment, he would do anything to keep that smile on her face. He was pulled from his thoughts as she tugged at his hands, "Dance with me Az?" He raised an eyebrow at her, "There's no music." Her grin turned wicked, "It's a good job I'm with a Shadowsinger who likes to sing then isn't it?" Azriel shook his head, "Nope, no, absolutely not." Her grin turned into a pout, "Please Az?" He shook his head again but began to dance with her anyway.

"When is your operation scheduled for?" He asked her sometime later as they were sitting together in the grass watching the sun rise over the ocean. "The day after tomorrow." She told him quietly and he instantly picked up on the fear in her voice but she kept talking and answered his unasked question as she spoke. "Madja says I have to be awake and conscious, that it's going to be long and painful." He ran a hand through her hair, "I'll be there with you, if you want me to be." He offered, unaware of how close the two of them were leaning towards each other, "You'd do that? Sit there and hold my hand?" She whispered practically onto his lips. "I'd do anything for you." He whispered back, flicking his eyes between her own eyes and her lips, watched as she ran her tongue along the bottom one and he decided to seize the moment.

Y/N

You watched Azriel's eyes flick from your own to your lips and back again. Watched the internal debate he raged in his head before he finally closed the gap. His kisses were addictive and your whole world span as something came alive in your chest. You knew Azriel felt it too as he pulled away, only slightly and blinked at you twice. He gave you a smile you'd never seen before, one that set your entire world on fire. "There you are, I've been looking for you for so long." He muttered against your lips. "My mate." The words sent a shiver down your spine as you smiled up at him.

You had stayed like that for a while, smiling at each other, sharing kisses and reveling in the feeling of the mating bond snapping into place. It was funny how fast things had changed as you now sat and watched Rhys and Azriel argue about Azriel being there when Madja performed the operation. "Azriel, listen to me, it is because she is your mate that you can't be there, she will be awake, probably screaming and in a lot of pain, your instincts will drive you to protect, to kill anyone or anything that is causing her pain and that will be Madja and Feyre and that is why I can't allow it." Rhys spoke calmly but his tone was dripping in authority. You watched Azriel fight it, the urge to obey his High Lord. "I'll be there instead of you Az, I'll hold her mind, if she'll let me, I won't let her feel it, I promise. Rhys added more gently.

Azriel still wasn't overly onboard with this plan as he kissed you outside of the clinic, he could obviously feel the nervous energy that you couldn't stop from flowing down the bond and it was making him antsy. "I'll be right out here, Rhys will look after you, Feyre will look after you." He told you softly. "And when it's done, you best believe I won't be leaving your side while you heal, work be damned, Rhys can send someone else." You gave him a chuckle, "Az, we both know you wouldn't trust anyone else." He smiled down at you, and his thumbs ran in circles over your cheeks as he held your face, "Please come back to me?" You fought the tears that welled up in your eyes, "I promise." The door to the clinic opened and Rhys stood in the doorway, a hand extended to you. Cassian, Mor and Nesta appeared behind Azriel, it was clearly their job to keep him calm and outside. "Are you ready?" Rhys asked, you nodded, kissed Azriel one last time and followed the High Lord into the clinic.

#acotar #acomaf #acosf #acowar #a court of mist and fury #a court of silver flames #a court of wings and ruin #acofas #a court of thorns and roses #a court of frost and starlight #azriel spymaster #azriel x reader #azriel shadowsinger #azriel acotar #azriel

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toji-girl · 3 months

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miss you | pro hero k. bakugo

synopsis: Katsuki doesn’t do well when half of his heart is gone, he misses you dearly and you share the same feelings. Part of you is missing without him, and what’s the best way to keep him needy?

wc: 1k

tags: 18+ only content - mdni + fem reader + repost (please read) + all characters are over the age of twenty-one + not beta read + male masturbation + female masturbation + pet names + sex toys + sexting and video being sent + phone sex + he wears your panties + any missing tag lmk!

Three more days. That’s all he needs to wait to see you again, Katsuki thought to himself as he leaned back in his office chair looking at the clock, counting down the seconds until he gets to see you.

It’s been over a week since you went to go visit family, and while he usually goes with you, his agency needed him back home so he had no choice but to say, but he was always sure to text and call.

A part of him felt like it was missing when you weren’t with him, what started off as you being his sidekick kick which surprised a lot of people, and it quickly blossomed into enemies who fell in love.

Katsuki who you always called ‘an arrogant asshat' was able to sweep you off his feet, the mere thought of it made him crack a tiny smile as he pulled his phone out looking at your texts.

Every morning you were sure to send him a selfie of your outfit attached with a cute good morning text, then throughout the day, you would send him pictures of the things you were doing.

He tried to send a few of himself in the morning or while at work, sometimes you’d receive a picture of your favorite blanket with Katsuki wrapped up into it, and once after a lot of begging, he slid a pair of your lacy underwear on.

His bulge strained against the flimsy fabric as he stood in front of the mirror with flushed cheeks taking a few pics, your favorite one was the one when he turned around giving you a perfect view of his ass.

It became a nightly thing, especially after the second night when your side of the bed became too cold, Katsuki had no choice but to stretch his entire body over it or pile blankets next to him.

His favorite was when you posed in front of the mirror letting him get glances of your pussy that barely peaked from your shorts, his cock strained in his boxers as he stared at it before going through the other photos.

When he came home after a particularly hard day to an empty house, his first thought was to call you, thankfully you picked up on the second ring.

“Katsuki, hi, baby. How are you?” You asked on the other side of the line as you settled into your bed.

He kicked his shoes off and quickly stripped down to his boxers taking his uniform to the bathroom. “I missed your voice. I need you pumpkin."

His nickname for you lit a fire in your chest, reminding you of the first day you met him, it was four years ago around Halloween and you had a little ceramic pumpkin on your desk that Katsuki teased you for.

Now, it’s your nickname. "I miss you too, I’ll be home tomorrow night. How was your day? Anything interesting?"

Katsuki went off on a mini rant while he started the washer before heading to the kitchen with a sigh. "I just went off. Tell me about your day."

He listened to you as he made a quick dinner and ate it before heading to the bedroom with the phone shoved between his ear and shoulder, he pulled the blankets back and melted against the mattress.

"I have one more thing to send you, ok? But I have to get off the phone and help my mom with dinner. I love you so much Suki, I’ll see you tomorrow."

Once you hung up he looked through his texts waiting for the picture, but instead, it was a video.

He furrowed his eyebrows wondering what it was, the thumbnail was dark so he had no idea, and you only send pictures, never videos.

Clicking the video he was greeted by seeing you naked on your bed with a dildo, the one that was an exact mold of his dick. His eyes went wide and his cock throbbed in his boxers as he watched you lube it up with spit.

You slid the toy in and out of your mouth watching your phone while you cupped your breast moaning his name. "Holy fuck.” He grunted watching you remove it with a wet pop.

Quickly he grabbed the band of his boxers pulling it down freeing his aching cock, the head pink and leaking pre as he watched the video still as he yanked his drawer open on his nightstand grabbing his pocket pussy.

He could see the fake cock slide inside you as you straddled it at first before laying on your back and spreading your legs, you moaned his name grabbing the fake balls and fucking yourself with the toy.

“Katsuki! I-I need you!” You mewled going faster and arching your back, the sound of it came over his speaker and he could see himself in between your legs fucking you himself, your wet and warm pussy hugging him tightly.

He spit on his palm that wasn’t holding his phone then lubed up the length of his cock making it wet enough to slide the fleshlight over him, he matched your pace as red eyes stayed trained on the video.

“I want you to cum inside me so bad baby! I missed it! I want you so bad! Suki!” You whined grinding down on the toy.

Katsuki grunted as he went faster squeezing himself. “I’ll fill you up nice-fuck-going to make you squirt all over.” He moaned to himself as he kept his eyes trained on his phone.

You were going faster as well nearing your orgasm, it’s been too long since he’s felt your touch, and hearing you cry his name out was enough for him to spill his release into the toy, his cum dripped from the opening as he panted leaning his head back.

It was a mess, but for now, he didn’t care. Katsuki sent you a text before cleaning up to get ready for bed.

Katsuki: I think we should recreate that video you sent when you get home, be ready. I love you pumpkin.

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rainobrienn · 1 year

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How do you feel? - Sam Winchester ;)

Pairings; Sam Winchester x Fem!Reader

WARNINGS: smutty smut smut, Public sex?, not proof read, p in v, oral (f receives), pet name? (Princess), hand kink?

Word count; 3k

Season 2 x Episode 6 setting

Summary ; you have been in love with Sam for awhile now, you try to avoid him but that just makes it harder.

"Your not working it, that's final!" Ellen shouted at her daughter, you standing next to Dean & Sam awkwardly waiting for them to noticed you guys had walked in.

Some random tourists walking in, "Howdy, are you guys open?" The dad asks, "No!" "Yes!" Jo and her mother both say in sink. They also stand there awkwardly for a moment before leaving.

"Now just put that away!" Ellen says, "no I want to know what they think about it," Jo says holding a folder, before Ellen's mother could do anything the phone started ringing, and Ellen scoffed going to the phone.

"Three weeks ago a young girls disappears from a Philadelphia apartment," Jo walks up to Dean shoving the folder at him.

"Take it, it won't bite," she says, "No but your mom might," Dean says not looking down to the folder, but she stays holding out the folder to him giving him a needy look for him to take it from her.

He rolls his eyes and takes the thing, opening it and up and looking through the pages.

"And this girl wasn't the first. Over the past eighty years six women have vanished. All from the same building, all young blondes. Only happens every decade or two so cops never eyeball the pattern. So we're either dealing with one very old serial killer, or-,"

"Who put this together, Ash?" You ask stepping forward to look at it, "I did," she says, Dean hums in an impressed tone, looking through the sources of information.

"I gotta admit, We hit the road for a lot less," Sam says also looking at it, You nod agreeing with him.

"Good. You like the case so much, you take it," Ellen says stepping forward, "Mom!" Jo says in an annoyed tone. "Joanna Beth, this family has lost enough. And I won't lose you too. I just won't," she says in a stern yet, concerned tone.

You left with the two boys, heading to the location of the apartment. You have been hunting with Sam and Dean ever since they ran into you when they went back to Lawrence, finding out that the demon they were hunting took your mother after your brother was born. And of course you wanted in on it.

You were always close with Sam & Dean, Although Sam is your age group, Dean and you connected more as friends, and he became one of your closest. Until he suddenly ghosted you, not wanting anyone but his dad in his life I guess. And, well the reason you and Sam split apart was because you kind to ghosted him, after finding out your feelings for him you were scared, way to scared to admit them to him for no reason, so you stopped talking to him completely, but now, that's in the past, not the feelings part, the ghosting part.

As you all walked into the apartment Sam said "I feel kind of bad, snaking Jo's case,"

"Yeah, maybe she put together a good file. But could you see her out here working one of these things? I don't think so," he says holding the EMF reading around the apartment.

"Yeah, It would be way to dangerous for her to work a case just yet," You also holding the EMF reader around the room.

"Anything?" You then ask the two boys, both of them shaking there heads and responding with a No. before Sam runs his over the light switch and it purrs.

You and Dean both turn your heads to look at him, walking over to see what was there. "What is that?" Sam asks, "What?" You and Dean question at the same time asking Sam what he's seeing, watching as he pokes at a black goo that was on the light switch.

"Holy crap!" Sam says, Dean moves you over to touch it himself, "That's ectoplasm. Well, Sam, I think I know what we're dealing with here. It's the Stay-Puff Marshmallow Man," you laugh a little at his humour, why did his stupid humour always get you?

Sam rolls his eyes, leaning back up straight, "Dean, I've only seen this stuff, like, twice. I mean, to make this stuff you have to be one majorly pissed off spirit," he says in a serious tone, almost worried.

"All right, let's find this badass before he snags any more girls," Dean say, you all exit the apartment, walking down the halls.

As you were about to turn a corner you hear voices, all three of you back up against a wall, knowing you could be seen but thinking you couldn't be.

You watch Deans expressions frown as he hears familiarity in the voice that was around the corner; and so did you. Jo?

"It's so convenient," she smiles next to what looked like a landlord, "Yeah, it's a great building, fixed it up real nice. All the apartments come furnished, too," he says advertising his building.

"It is so spacious. You know, my friend told me I absolutely have to come check it out, and I have to admit, she was right. You did a really good job with this place," she acts like the happiest person in the world.

Dean steps out from behind the small wall we were behind, "What the hell are you doing here?" He asks stepping close to the girl, but instead of a shocked reaction she smiled wider, "There you are, honey," she smiled, wrapping her arm around his waist. You and Sam exchanging weird looks.

"This is my boyfriend Dean, and his Brother Sam, and Sam's girlfriend Y/n," she smiled, you immediately feel a heat come to your cheeks, and your heart skip a beat at the words.

The landlord looks at the both of you, slightly furrowing his eyebrows. Before Sam grabbed you by the waist pulling you in closer to make you guys seem like a couple, playing it off as cool as you could you just smiled leaning into him, his scent intoxicated you, and you knew your face was bright red.

"Good to meetcha. Quite a gal you've got here," he then says to Dean, a smile on his face shaking Deans hand.

But all you could think about was Sam's hand on your waist, and how you wanted both of his hands all over you. Doing things you never thought you would do.

You watched as Dean talked to the landlord, but you really couldn't pay attention. Sam's hand kept moving up and down your waist, like he was trying to tease you or something.

You felt so vulnerable, and your emotions were so overpowering you right now. You tried to calm your breath down, you slowly brought yourself back to reality just in time, watching as Jo handing the Landlord a stack of cash saying that you guys would take it.

You felt Sam's hand leave your waist, and you already missed it. But you brushed your hand through your hair to try and get some sense into you before following the others into the apartment you were just in.

You sat on the chair as quiet as you could be, honestly to scared to talk. Your feelings for Sam have been dormant lately, mainly because you haven't touched him, or been to close with him for a month now, but that was so close, too close for your liking.

You stood up as they talked, heading to your bag to chug the bottle of water you had in there. Trying to distract yourself from the thoughts of Sam, and the things you wanted him to do to you, the places you want his hands to touch.

"This place was built in 1924. It was originally a warehouse, converted into apartments a few months ago," you heard Jo speak. You leaned on the wall looking over to all of them, not even glancing at Sam.

"Yeah? What was here before 1924," Dean asks, pacing from side to side of the room. "Nothing. Empty field," Jo says shaking her head.

"So, most likely scenario, someone died bloody in the building, and now he's back and raising hell," Sam says.

"I already checked. In the past eighty two years, zero violent deaths. Unless you count a janitor who slipped on a wet floor," she says fiddling with a knife.

"will you sit down?" No turns to Dean, he gives her a dirty look before sitting down. "So, have you checked police reports, county death records?" He asks.

"Obituaries, mortuary reports and seven other sources. I know what I'm doing," she says, offended of how stupid he thinks she is.

"I think the jury's still out on that one. Could you put the knife down?" Dean asks, she rolls her eyes but does as asked. You could feel some sort of tension between the two of them, you couldn't tell if it was sexual or not, but there was something.

"Okay! So, uh, it's something else, then. Maybe some kind of cursed object that brought a spirit with it," you then say stepping in, "Well, we've got to scan the whole building. Everywhere we can get to, right," Jo then says.

"Right. So. You and me, we'll take the top two floors. Summer and Sam on the two bottom," Dean states, for fuck sake, you think to yourself, "We'd move faster if we split up," she states, "this isn't negotiable."

You walk with Sam down to the first floor, EMF in hand scanning down the walls. Keeping your distance from the tall brunette boy, who you were constantly thinking about in these moments.

"What do you think it is?" He asks, waving his EMF around. "Honestly, have no idea," you shake your head, "Yeah, me neither," he says with a sigh.

"Hey, are you okay?" He asks a few seconds later, you turn to him with furrowed eyebrows, a confused expression on your face. "it's just, your never usually this quiet," he says, "oh," you say, that's all you said.

"Oh? Is there something wrong," he then asks stopping, you turn back to look at him. why does everything he do have to look so perfect you thought, "No," you say, god you were not being a good actress right now.

"You know I don't believe that for a second right," he says, you don't say anything to that, you just turn around and continue to scan, god get yourself together, he had his hand your waist for a minute and now all of sudden your back to your 15 year old self, obsessed and in love with the guy.

"You getting anything?" You then ask after a few seconds of silence, "Nope," he said with a sigh, "Should we go find Dean?" You asks, "Not before you tell me what's up," he said, you just look at him blankly with that comment.

"Seriously y/n," he says in such a soft, and sweet voice. You felt your heart begin to race as fast as it possibly could as he stepped closer, he was looking at you like you were going to break or something, and you couldn't handle it.

You weren't thinking, actually all you were doing was thinking, about Sam and his lips, his hands. You didn't even realise until it was to late that you were kissing him, you quickly pulled away shocked at yourself, anxiety washing over you immediately.

"Fuck," was what you said standing there like a complete idiot, "Wha-" he seemed so shocked, and speechless. You were waiting for a sympathetic rejection, but instead you got "why'd you do that?" And not in a grossed out tone, seemed like he was genuinely asking.

"I- I uhm," you said just staring at him, not knowing what to say. "Y/n?" He questioned, he seemed concerned, your feelings for him got stronger by the second, and suddenly you really couldn't hold them in any longer.

"God Sam, I've loved you since we were fifteen," you sighed, like the biggest boulder just rolled off your shoulder.

"And I can't get you out of my mind, especially when your so close, or when you touch me, god Sam, it's so annoying and," you sigh, "embarrassing," you then say realising what you had just admitted, knowing things would never ever go back to how they were.

"Embarrassing? How is it embarrassing?” He asks stepping towards you, you look up to him. He looked happy, “I- because you don’t feel the same,” you state.

“How do you know how I feel when you’ve never even asked?” He asks you, you think about it for a second and he was right.

“How do you feel then?” You asked, a little bit nervous to ask but proceeding with it anyway. He stepped closer so he was looking right down on you, “I’ll show you,” he says, his hand cupping your cheek, god his hands were so big, his lips fell onto yours, and you immediately kissed back with out a second thought.

You felt yourself being pushed up against the wall, one of Sam’s hand running under your thigh and lifting it up. Your cores rubbing against each other, made your head spin.

“Sam,” you pant out, as your eye caught the sight of a small room, he looked behind to see it as well, before turning and smiling at you, picking you up and carrying you into the room, it was a small storage closet, but neither of you cared one bit.

Sam slammed you up against the door to close it, kissing your lips with everything he had. His hands roamed around your body, touching you in all the places you need at the time, like he could read your mind.

You felt his fingers dig under your shirt, slowly lifting it up and over your head, then reaching around your back to unclasp your bra, which he did do after a few times, but the heat of the moment was just so aggressive.

His hands and lips were all you could think about, your own hands were running through his hair, as you legs were wrapped around his waist, his weight leaning on you enough to keep you up against the door.

“Sammy,” you called out in a hushed tone, “hmm?” He hummed as his lips kissed across your neck, leaving spots and marks wherever he could.

“I need you,” you managed to get out in a stutter, “hmm,” he hummed, “where?” He then added to that, “You know damn well where Sammy,” you then snapped, “hmm I’m gonna need words princess,” he said, princess? Oh god, you might as well just die.

“Down there Sammy, please, do anything,” you begged him, he smiled moving slightly back so your legs would fall from his waist, planting yourself back on the ground.

You watched as he fell to his knees, his hands running over your jeans, unbuttoning them, unzipping them, and then pushing them down your legs, your panties following along with them.

He didn’t waste another second before his lips connected with your core, you flung your head back, hitting it against the door, “oh fuck,” you said gripping his hair as he made out with your core, licking and sucking in all the right places.

His hands moved over your hips, your waist. “Fuck oh god,” you whined, feeling so much pleasure wash over you.

One of his hands slowly came down to touch your clit, circling it a few times before he ran it through your slit, sending a shiver through your entire body, your moans filled the small space up completely.

Seconds later his finger entered you, pushing in and out at a slowly pace. Before adding a second and speeding up, his mouth connected with your clit once again and you couldn’t have felt more pleasure in that moment.

“Yes, Yes,” you said as he hit your g-spot, “there?” He asked, hitting it again you moaned out a “fuck,”.

He sped up his face and you felt your climax build, and build. “I’m gonna cum,” you stated in a breath, and with that Sam pulled out his finger, and stood up.

You whimpered at his actions, “come here,” he said lifting you up, you didn’t even realise he had removed his pants, until his tip ran over your clit.

“Can I?” He asked teasing your entrance, “please Sammy,” you whined, and then felt him enter you.

You thought he had gotten all the way in at one point, but then he just had more to add. He was way bigger than you expected, and way thicker, for a moment you didn’t think you could handle it.

“You okay,” he asked, you sucked in a breath and nodded. You connected your lips back with his to distract yourself for a moment, “Ready?” He asked, waiting for a yes.

“Mhm,” you hummed a yes, feeling him start to move now. God, the mix of pain and pleasure filled you, mainly pleasure. And then it soon turned into only pleasure.

As his pace quickened your moans got louder, “Fuck Sam!” You screamed, and then felt his hand slap over your mouth, “shhh,” he said kissing up your neck.

“Sam,” you hummed out underneath his hand, as you did he removed his hand from your mouth, and faced you. “I’m gonna-,” you panted, and he nodded “me too,” he said getting ready to pull out.

“Don’t pull out,” you stuttered out as you felt him slam into you, “No?” He asked, “No, cum in me Sam, please,” you whined, and he really couldn’t refuse you, his hands gripped your waist even tighter.

Slamming into you even harder, and with one last thrust you felt yourself collapse. “Oh god,” you breathed out as you came on him, your head resting on his shoulder.

“Your so beautiful y/n,” you heard him say, you smiled at his words, slowly placing yourself back on the ground, it took you a second to snap back to reality.

You put your clothes back on, and so did Sam. But you didn’t leave just yet, “Sam,” you said as you placed your shirt back over you, he looked to you, “This wasn’t a hook up, was it?” You questioned, “No, this isn’t over,” he said walking up to you, kissing you passionately.

#fanfic #fem!reader #y/n #supernatural #sam winchester #sam winchester x you #sam winchester x reader #supernatural smut #smut #sam winchester smut #x reader

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maybege · 6 months

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The App - Part 1

Summary: The App tells you who your perfect match is. But when Josh, your perfect-match-alpha, introduces you to his boss, you start to realise that the numbers are not always right.

Pairing: alpha!Boba Fett x fem!omega!Reader

Wordcount: 6.9k | Rating: E (18+ only!)

Warnings: Modern AU, A/B/O dynamics (scenting, knotting, etc.), older man/younger woman, implied age gap, Josh is an asshole, technically some (primarily emotional) infidelity

Happy November! This is an idea I had a few days ago and it would not leave me so I used that burst of creative enegery to bring it down on (digital) paper. I am really so very excited for this story and I hope you enjoy it too! Please let me know in a comment or reblog what you thought and whether you would be intertesed in a second part!

masterlist | crossposted on AO3

The first time you met Boba Fett was a catastrophe.

You were sure you had never been so nervous. After three months of dating Josh, he had invited you to a get-together with his friends from work and you were eager to make a good impression. You had sought out your prettiest summer dress, the skirt falling to your knees and printed with a flowery pattern that made you happy every time you saw it.

Josh had not really said anything when you asked him whether he liked it but at this point, you had learned that if he did not say anything, that usually meant he approved. He just wasn’t very communicative that way.

His colleagues, on the other hand, were very communicative.

“An app, huh?” his boss, Boba, had echoed when Josh had answered the age-old question of So how did you two meet?

He looked very unimpressed.

“It's scientifically proven to get the best match,” you repeated the words Josh had said on your first date, “The studies have shown that omegas and alphas best match up through a variety of aspects –“

“That’s no way to meet your mate,” he said, interrupting your empty repetition of words you did not even know the meaning of. Still, you did not appreciate him criticizing the way you had met Josh. Like it was somehow less than. Like it was wrong.

“Where is yours then?”

“What?”

“Your mate,” you clarified, holding your chin up in defiance and, “Where are they?”

The man chuckled, clearly not offended at your words. His laugh was a warm sound making you feel like the sun was shining on your skin. “Nobody wants an old man like me, princess,” he got closer as he said it and you inhaled sharply, trying to ignore the scent of pinewoods and smoke, “Don’t need an app to find that out.”

You did not look away from him, you knew that was what he wanted. He was just dressed in jeans and a flannel over a t-shirt that hugged his body. His very large body. It did not take you long to gauge that he was not as sculpted under his clothes as Josh was. He did not have the six packs and the pecs and all these other muscle groups Josh kept talking about whenever he went to the gym. No, Boba Fett was not a bodybuilder.

But was strong nonetheless. His shoulders were broad, his arms thick and his belly made him look much more comfortable than Josh ever was. But Boba Fett did not want to be comfortable for you. He wanted to intimidate you and, in a way, he succeeded because you felt unsteady like your world had shifted just enough for you to get dizzy. But you were not about to let this man ruin the first chance you had to impress Josh’s friends, so you kept looking. And so did he.

Someone called your name. You blinked, trying to forget the brown of his warm eyes and turned around to find Josh waving you over to where he was standing with another one of his colleagues.

“Excuse me,” you said to the older man, making sure to seem as unaffected as possible.

“Sure thing,” you heard him murmur, the whisper of his hand on your lower back as you passed him, “Princess.”

You decided that the way your heart skipped a beat could be ignored.

After all, you never had to meet this man again.

As luck would have it, you did see each other again.

It was a few weeks later when summer was slowly morphing into autumn, that Boba had invited his team and their partners and families for a last summer BBQ at his place. You had not felt great as soon as you had woken up but Josh would not hear it, making the point that you could still leave early if you did not feel better.

Not going was not an option.

So you chose your most comfortable dress, threw back a painkiller, and let Josh drive you in his new car to his boss’ place, hardly touching you because “I do not want to catch anything if you’re really sick, darling.”

You bit your lips and

Once you arrived, you felt a little bit better. But not for long.

You were in the middle of a conversation with Josh and one of his boring colleagues when a cramp hit you so strong, you felt like you were going to pass out. And with it the realization that you were not sick.

You were getting your heat.

As if the thought triggered your body, you could feel your blood starting to pulse, the edges of your vision blurring as the only thing you wanted to do was curl up and bury your fingers between your thighs. But you were not home. You were not even with your friends. You were with Josh and his colleagues and his boss and there was nowhere for you to hide.

Without looking at Josh, you turned around, trying to hurry into the house. If you could make it to the bathroom, maybe you could drink something, splash your face with cold water and beg Josh to take you home. Or take a cab.

“Is my presence so insulting that you need to run away from me?”

Shit.

You halted, not wanting to offend your host, but you also couldn’t stay in the garden where the BBQ seemed to burn hotter than before and everyone’s voices were so loud. But when he came to stand in front of you, he seemed to realise

“Woah,” he murmured, his tone shifting and his hand hovering over your shoulder, “You all right there, princess?”

You wanted to snap at him to not call you princess, to not call you anything, but the world was shifting again and a new wave of pain hit your abdomen.

“No,” you brought out, “I’m a little dizzy that’s all. I – I’ll be fine.”

You could not meet his gaze, too confused to fixate on one point on the floor while you tried to gather yourself. The cramps had set in sooner, and much worse, than you had expected and his presence did not seem to help. But you also did not want him to go.

“You are not okay,” he protested gently and you hated how careful he sounded, “You’re getting your heat. Should’ve stayed home today, princess. Let me get you some water and then –“

“No!” you hissed, your hand grabbing his forearm and you, “P-Please stay.”

Boba stepped closer to you and you were so grateful to be able to rest your weight on him. “Okay,” he murmured, all gentle and warm and you closed your eyes, “I will stay with you. But we need to get you somewhere safe and comfortable, ‘kay? Does that sound good?”

You hummed in agreement, following blindly. When you opened your eyes, you were in the kitchen and Boba filled a glass for you. Your eyes fell on his bare forearms, suntanned and bronze and just peeking out from under the sleeve of his shirt you saw the curling ink from a tattoo.

“Here, drink,” he held the glass up for you and when your hands trembled too much, he helped you take little sips.

“How bad is it?” he asked quietly, setting the glass down and you immediately reached out to touch him again. Touching him seemed to help.

“Bad,” your voice was hoarse, “Worse than I remember.”

“I am so sorry, princess,” he whispered, pulling you in for a hug and despite yourself, you closed your eyes, breathing him in. For a precious few seconds, it was like the pain was gone. Sure, the wetness between your legs was still seeping through your panties but you were no longer in pain. You felt … good.

His big hand was on your back, carefully holding you to him and you could hear him breathe, his chest rising and falling against yours and you tightened your arms around him. There was no logical explanation for why you buried your face in his chest and breathed him in. All you could think of was that he was warm and he smelled of a bonfire in the woods and … and he felt safe.

You had never felt this safe.

The hum he let out felt like a rumble under your ear and you smiled, wanting to shuffle closer still, to try and pick as much of his scent as you could so that maybe your nest could smell exactly like this.

When he pulled away – slowly, with his hands running over your arms and sides – you whimpered, trying to get your bottom lip to stop quivering because you had never felt

“I am sorry,” he apologized, looking pained and sounding genuine, “I shouldn’t have. Not with Josh and everything. You are in your heat and you need to feel safe, not be hugged by some strange, old alpha.”

You looked at him quizzically and it took you a moment to come to the frightening conclusion that – just for a second – you had forgotten who Josh was. The man you had met on countless dates, Josh. The one who was supposed to be your perfect match, Josh. Josh who had joined you in the kitchen now, looking as chipper and unconcerned as always, ignorant to the tense silence between you and the alpha before you, whose body heat you still felt lingering on you.

“What’s up, darling?”

“Seems like she is close to her heat,” Boba answered for you, calm and collected and sounding not at all as affected as you felt, “You better get her home, Josh.”

You did not need to look at him to know Josh was displeased. “You sure?” he asked Boba (not even you!), “It’s just the sun getting to her.”

Whether the tears came from pain or frustration at Josh’s unkindness, you were not sure. Maybe a combination of both. But you did not have the strength to stand up for yourself. To start a debate with Josh in which you knew he would do everything out-talk you and you would give up, defeated and tried and still in so much pain.

Boba looked at you with furrowed brows and you were surprised to find that of the two men in front of you, it was him that seemed to know exactly what you felt.

“I think you should get her settled at home,” Boba repeated, his hand landing on yours where you gripped his forearm, “You are in too much pain, princess, to stay here.”

“Is that true, darling?”

You wanted to yell at him. To ask if he really could not see the pain you were in, if he cared so little about you that he did not even register on a purely platonic level that the omega in front of him was in heat and in pain and needed him.

Well, maybe not him specifically.

Trying to ignore the strange mix of guilt, pain, arousal and frustration that broiled in your belly, you managed to nod your head. “I need to go home, Josh,” you whispered, your throat already parched again, “Please.”

Faced with your clear wording, even Josh had no choice but to agree.

“Can you help me get her to the car?” he asked Boba and you noticed, somewhere in the back of your head, that he was again speaking over you. Like you weren’t even there. Like you were a pet to take care of.

“Sure.”

Boba walked with you to Josh’s car, not saying anything. But you noticed it all, nonetheless. Noticed how he slowed his pace so you could walk comfortably. How he took extra care when it came to the steps, making a few encouraging sounds at the back of his throat when you fought through the pain in your abdomen to make your way down. How he held most of your weight, allowing you to fall back into the car without hurting you too much.

“There you go,” he murmured while Josh was tinkering away somewhere, “Got you all settled. Need anything? More water? Blanket? Food?”

You shook your head, your throat too dry to speak and you worried that Josh would get angry at you leaving a wet patch on his new leather car seat.

“You sure?” Boba checked in again, bowing over you in a way that blocked out the sun and you were glad for the shadow, glad for him so close, “Do you have enough snacks at home? Soft things, too? To tide you over?”

Despite your dislike of him, you found yourself smiling, your eyes closing with exhaustion and relief at finally sitting somewhere. “I promise, I will be all right, alpha,” you mumbled, the words heavy on your tongue, “You do not have to worry about me.”

His chuckle made your heart feel warm. “All right then, princess,” you heard him say, “You stay safe out there, yeah?”

You nodded and the car door closed. Left alone, you closed your eyes and took in a deep breath. The new car smelled like plastic and cleaner and you tried to remember the scent of the woods, of bonfires, of things that made you feel warm and cherished.

“Make sure to help her up the stairs,” you could hear his muffled voice, “She is in a lot of pain.”

“It is not that bad, Boba.” That was Josh. “You worry about nothing. She could have stayed here, I am sure, but maybe a nap is not such a bad idea.”

Silence.

“Just make sure she’s safe okay? The next week is gonna be rough, Josh. She’ll need you.”

Josh did not check up on you once during the next week.

It was a month later when you saw Boba Fett again.

And again, it felt like an absolute catastrophe.

You had been on your way to the next town over when a diversion had put you on a country road that snuck its way through the mountains. And your car – your usually so reliable car – decided that the third mountain peak that came with a steep curve was too much and just … stopped working. It was pure luck that there was a stretch of road that was relatively level which allowed you to pull over to the side.

Still, it meant you were left stranded with nowhere to go but to hide under the trees as the rain came pouring down on you. Your fingers were slippery on the display of your phone as you called Josh, who was less than enthused about your interruption but was gracious enough to come and pick you up.

After his meeting was over.

That was twenty minutes ago and you were soaked to the bone now. You debated on returning to your car but the smoke under the hood made you uneasy and you did not understand enough about cars to attempt to fix it yourself. Thunder roared in the clouds and you flinched.

Great. Fucking great.

As your luck would have it, the first car that passed you stopped immediately and you found yourself hoping that maybe a nice family had stopped, offering to drive you to the next gas station or café where you could wait with a hot cup of tea. Maybe it was not too late to evade the inevitable cold you would catch if you remained in the rain any longer.

But of course, it was not a friendly family in the car, or an elderly couple on their way to their grandkids. No, the figure you spotted emerging from the truck was very familiar.

Your heartbeat picked up, racing in a rhythm all on its own and it was all you could do not to cry in relief. Because seeing Boba Fett walking towards you, wearing a thick flannel and a green jacket on top, his head covered in a beanie, made you feel like all your problems had dissolved into thin air.

“I already called Josh,” you greeted him, too nervous to really speak and unable to put your happiness at seeing him into words. You should not really be happy to see him, after all, especially not happier than seeing Josh. But the way your pulse raced or how your lips threatened to pull up in a smile, there was no denying that you were truly, utterly, happy at seeing Boba Fett make his way towards you. “He’ll be here any minute.” I hope.

“Car break down?” the older man asked, expertly ignoring the mention of Josh, “You okay, princess?”

You nodded, ignoring how your breath hitched. No matter how you tried to twist it, Boba’s presence messed with your body and your mind. And you were scared of slipping up, of letting yourself … feel all of the emotions he caused in you. Stars, even just the mere worried frown on his face made your belly flutter.

“I’m okay,” you mumbled, crossing your arms in front of your chest, “I don’t need your help.”

“Then at least let me wait with you,” Boba insisted, a frown on his face as he talked over the pounding rain, “It's freezing and I won't be able to rest until I know you’re safe.”

It should not make your belly flutter as it did. It should not feel like a bunch of butterflies were throwing a party in your belly, making your heart race and your palms sweat. And yet, you did not feel any unease at his request or at the thought of both of you in a small confined space. The only unease, if you could even call it that, was your own concern at how happy you felt to see him.

“Omega,” he rumbled and you froze. Something pooled in your belly and your breath caught in your throat. Boba did not seem to realize the effect his words had on you. “Please,” he continued calmly, “It is cold and raining and your car looks like it is about to fall apart. Get in my car and you can wait somewhere it's dry and warm. Please.”

“Okay,” you mumbled, still reeling from his words as you made your way towards him. Boba held the door open for you, his warm hand brushing over your back before he hurried to the other side and slid into the driver’s seat.

The raindrops on the windshield echoed in the tiny space and still, all you could hear was Omega. What did this mean? Had it been on purpose? Why would he call you that when –

“You okay?”

His voice sounded still as calm as ever but you swore you heard a tad of concern in there.

“No one called me that before,” you admitted, shrugging out of your jacket to avoid the water seeping into the further layers. And to avoid looking at him.

“Called you what?”

“Omega …” you whispered and rubbed your thumb over the wet fabric in your lap.

“Let me throw that back there,” Boba murmured, gently taking the jacket from you and putting it on the backseat. You wanted to protest that it would ruin his seats but then again, he did not seem to care about his car as much as other people did.

“You are telling me,” he paused a beat when he turned back to you, “You are telling me you and Josh have been seeing each other for a few months and he has never called you by your presentation.”

“He doesn’t believe in it.”

He scoffed, “Believe in what? That you are an omega?”

“He thinks it’s demeaning,” you shrugged, hating how small your voice sounded and hating that you already knew Josh would never call you that, not even when you would tell him you liked it.

“Your presentation is not an insult.”

You were surprised at how agitated he sounded but that confused you only more. Deep down, you knew Boba was right. Being an omega was not an issue. In fact, you liked your existence as it was, thank you very much, and if anyone ever gave you the option to change your presentation, you would refuse.

But Josh was different in that aspect. He was an alpha and while he had searched on The App for an omega as his perfect match, he did not particularly subscribe to the idea that different presentations could have different needs. In fact, he had called himself “modern” on your first date and had impressed you with his views that omegas could do everything betas and alphas could do (that – sadly – were not shared by all the alphas you had gone on dates with) and that he supposed anyone living their “omega truth” (which he had said with a wink and a cheeky smile).

What you had not expected was that by “living your omega truth” he had meant you would live it alone.

“Did he stay with you during your heat at least?”

You pressed your lips tightly together, suppressing a wince at the memories of the five days in your apartment, all alone and desperate, crying into your pillows as you imagined strong hands holding you to a warm body that did not look like Josh’s. It had been one of the worst heats you ever experienced and

“What's it to you anyway?” you snapped yourself out of it, pulling your cardigan closer around you. The rain had gotten worse now, “It’s not like he would have helped.”

“It's not like he would have helped?” Boba repeated incredulously and your gaze flicked to him, finding his lips set in a hard line, the furrow between his brows had reappeared. He looked absolutely menacing.

And yet you were not afraid.

“Are you angry?” you asked instead, completely stunned by this large man worrying about you. Why did he care so much? Why did you want him to care so much?

“I am,” he confirmed, taking a deep breath as if to calm himself, “I am angry.”

“Why?”

“Because you were in pain,” he replied, his voice still all heated and growly, “You were in pain and could barely walk and stars, you needed someone to care for you. What if something had happened? Or – or if the food was not enough? If you had gotten dehydrated? And he was not there for a whole week? Stars, how could he have left you when all you needed was someone to care?”

You said nothing, embarrassment heating your cheeks at having coaxed this reserved alpha out of his shell. Everything he said was true and you knew it. His words brought back the pain of being left alone, the pain of feeling unwanted, for an entire week. But they also brought back your realisation that Josh was one of the first alphas willing to date you. Scratch that, he had been the only one willing to date you without giving the creeps.

At your lack of agreement, Boba’s face of anger morphed into one of disbelief. It was the first time you had seen him openly showing his emotion. It was the first time you could smell them. The woodsy scent and the smoke were still there but now it slightly burned your nose, making you want to curl up into him and brush your fingers over his jaw until the scent morphed into the one that made you want to fall asleep.

“You cannot be serious about him,” he stated, “You cannot truly think he is the best you can do.”

“The – the numbers don’t lie,” you repeated weakly, “Josh is my perfect match.”

“And what about anyone outside of this hellscape on an app?” he demanded gruffly, “What about alphas you get to know the ... the regular way. Ones that maybe aren’t perfect on paper but they love –“

“Boba, nobody wants me okay?!” you shouted, flinching at how loud you were, at how much pain your voice carried. But it was too late now. In for a penny, in for a pound. “I tried so much and no one – no one wants me,” you admitted, tears stinging your eyes but you refused to cry in front of him, “Not with the heats and not with omegas being so high-maintenance and – and the best I can do is someone who doesn’t hate the fact that I need to build nests to feel safe. And if the price I have to pay to not be alone most of the time is to be alone during my heats then I,” you held back a sob, “Then I can accept that.”

Your words lingered between you for what felt like an eternity. And when you felt your tears spill over onto your cheeks, you decided that you had humiliated yourself enough for one day.

“Never mind, can you just drive me home, please?” you asked, wiping at your cheeks, “Josh won't show up anyway.”

But Boba did not move.

“Everything you said is wrong,” he said finally.

Thinking he was about to start another discussion, you hurled around, the anger on the tip of your tongue ready to be let free. “How dare you –“

But the look on his face made you stop. There was something there, something you could not quite pinpoint and it made you want to hear him out.

“You are not too much, princess,” he stated again, “Your nests are not too much and neither are your heats. They are a part of who you are and you deserve someone who understands it, who – who helps you with it all when you need it and who supports you when you don’t. Someone who recognizes what an honour it would be to have you in his life. Not someone who leaves you alone at your most vulnerable.”

He said it so calmly, so assured that he was right, it brought a fresh wave of tears to your eyes.

How were you supposed to answer that? You wanted to reach out and touch him, his hand, his face, his shoulder, anything that would make you feel like he was real. Like he was really sitting in front of you and really had said those words and meant them, too.

But you couldn’t, you wouldn’t, because there was Josh and something in the back of your mind told you that as soon as you touched Boba Fett, something would happen that you would never be able to take back.

“Alright,” he sighed and put his hands on the steering wheel. They were weathered and calloused despite the office job he had and you wondered if he had a hobby that was more hands-on. Maybe carpentry. You could see that. “Let’s get you home, princess.”

Josh texted you twenty minutes after Boba had dropped you off that he would not be able to make it, after all.

It was a dinner, this time, that found yourself back in Boba’s home.

Everyone had brought something and you had taken extra care in following your grandma’s recipe for the cherry pie you had made just for this occasion. Now, surrounded by many familiar faces, you were sitting next to Josh while the dinner conversation, fuelled by too many glasses of wine, had shifted to the kind of topics that were sure to escalate into a fight.

“All I am saying,” Josh continued his tirade, one hand around his glass of wine, the other on your knee beneath the table, “Is that the only way to true equality is if we stop looking at what everybody needs and just treat them the safe.”

You had tuned out after he had hit the five-minute mark but you were secretly relieved to see that the majority of guests looked as doubtful as you felt.

“I don’t think that is very effective,” Chants, a fellow omega, piped up, “If we simply assume that everyone is exactly the same, we fail to recognize some fundamental differences that cause these disadvantages.”

You saw Fennec nod and chanced a glance at Boba. He sat half across from you, dressed in a black dress shirt that made you want to pop open the first few buttons so you could see his chest. But what made him look even more striking was the displeased, if amused, look on his face.

Josh made a non-committal sound, waving his hands around and you felt bad that you could relax now that he was not touching you. “It is not only about the job market, though, of course,” he said, effortlessly changing the topic now that someone had confronted him with a different opinion, “It is in relationships too. All this alpha and omega stuff,” he scoffed, “All it is is some leftover idealism from a time long gone where alphas had to pretend omegas were special to get what they wanted. Calling someone by their presentation is just an insulting throwback to a time in which we thought omegas were too stupid to realize it.”

Say what now?

Before you could even open your mouth, you heard a low chuckle from somewhere which got Josh’s attention.

“Do you disagree?” he asked sharply and you had to suppress your smile at how offended he looked. He really was not used to people contradicting him.

Boba did not look the slightest bit intimidated. Instead, he leant back in his chair, the image of pure relaxation. “As a matter of fact, I do,” he said, “I just think you don’t understand what all this ‘alpha and omega stuff’ is about.”

“What is it about then?”

You looked around to find the voice before you realised that you had asked the question.

“It's about taking care of each other,” he replied, looking right at you, “It's about keeping your mate safe – physically and emotionally. Sure, in the past their treatment was questionable at best. But any good alpha knows that finding their omega is the greatest luck there is. Going through life with someone who is truly yours, someone you belong to in the most effortless of ways … That is a happiness only a few have experienced. I cannot imagine a greater honour than helping an omega with her nest, scenting her when she needs it, and making her feel safe and cherished. And receiving this safety in return. Omega is not an insult,” he murmured finally, his voice so low and warm it felt like he was in your head, “it is a love confession.”

A beat of silence. All you could hear was your heart, the blood rushing in your veins in rhythm with his words. He was looking at you and you felt like he was speaking to you too, maybe.

“Well, that is one way to look at it.”

You flinched. Josh’s voice no longer sounded kind to your ears. It sounded grating, and cold, in comparison. “What do you say, darling?”

It all came crashing down on you then. Whatever you had tried to ignore the last few weeks suddenly became crystal clear. Josh was not your perfect match.

I don’t want to be darling, you thought, I don’t want to be your darling.

“Uh, yeah,” you nodded numbly, feeling your legs shake, “I – I need to powder my nose.”

No one paid any attention to you (except for one) and you were grateful to hear that the conversation continued as you made your way down the hall to where you knew the guest bathroom was situated.

His entire house smelled of him and the bathroom was no exception. The little room was snug but it had enough space for you to put your hands on the edge of the sink, leaning your weight forward as you tried to take deep breaths and sort out your thoughts.

Josh was not your perfect match. And even if he was, you would be gladder to remain alone forever than share your life with him. How had it taken you so long to realize that? And how did it take only Boba’s words to make you feel like you did not have to be alone? Like you could follow your feelings and maybe – maybe they were reciprocated and –

A knock at the door.

“It’s open,” you said, taking a shaky breath, trying to brace yourself for the discussion that would be inevitable when you told him that it was over.

But it wasn’t Josh.

Pinewood and smoke filled your nostrils and you felt yourself relax.

“Are you okay?” Boba asked quietly. He still stood in the door, leaving you your space when all you wanted was to have him close. “You were shaking when you left and I was worried …”

You tried to smile, though a look in the mirror revealed it looked more like a grimace and so you stopped. “I feel,” you swallowed, trying to get your trembling hands under control, “I feel –“

The large man stepped inside and closed the door behind him. The click of the lock should have made you jump, should have made you stand up and go back to Josh. The man you were dating, Josh. But you did not jump up, you did not excuse yourself and left Boba alone.

If anything, the knowledge that you were alone and undisturbed made you shiver and your heart race in anticipation.

“I know,” he said quietly, “I am sorry.”

“What is this?” you asked, afraid to know the answer, “Alpha, I –“

“You already know,” he replied, his eyes meeting yours through the mirror. He was looming behind you, the size of him caging you in but it did not scare you. “At least I know,” he continued quietly, “Knew it the moment I saw you step into the room in that flowery dress of yours.”

You turned around, deciding to just fuck it and finally say what you wanted. “Can you touch me?” you asked, “P-Please, I need … something. I don't know, Boba, I need – need …”

“I know what you need,” he whispered, taking a step closer and now you were trapped between the sink behind you and this very large and very warm man in front of you, “Do you trust me?”

You nodded.

His large palms cupped your face and your eyes fluttered close. You thought his mouth was about to be on yours and you were not even surprised to find that you wanted him to kiss you.

But instead, he tilted your head slightly to the side, baring your throat for him and when you felt his breath on your sensitive skin, you knew what he was about to do. The trembling in your body intensified but this time it was from anticipation. From want.

“The first thing I noticed when I met you was that you did not smell of him,” he whispered, the tip of his nose brushing the shell of your ear, “And I thought what a stupid man he was, not scenting the most beautiful omega I had ever seen.”

Your hands shot up, gripping the side of his shirt as if that would keep you from floating away. And then his nose brushed over your scent gland. The feeling was electric, pulsing, warming, coursing through your entire body and making you shiver in the best way.

“Fuck,” you breathed, feeling your nipples pebble under your lace bra.

He chuckled against you, repeating the motion, “No cursing, omega, love, don’t you want to be good for me?”

Omega is not an insult, it is a love confession.

“Alpha,” you whimpered, “Please.”

“Let me,” he protested gently, his hand shifting to the back of your neck, holding you steady as his mouth descended on your neck, “Let me take care of you, princess, I know what you need.”

And you believed him.

It was quiet in the small room save for the sound of your heavy breathing and the rustling of clothes as he stepped between your legs, helping you up on the counter. He was so close, making you feel dizzy with want and you were embarrassed to note that your panties were getting wetter by the second.

“I have never felt like this,” you confessed, your own hands wandering over his strong back, “I – I don’t know what to do.”

“That’s because you have never been properly scented,” Boba murmured against your skin, kissing and licking and sucking on your throat that had your pussy pulsing and your heart warming, “You don’t need to do anything. You just need to tell me what feels good, omega, and I will make you see stars.”

That was certainly something you could do.

You wrapped your legs around his hips, pulling him in and the older man chuckled, his teeth scraping over your neck. “Someone’s needy I see,” he rumbled and you gasped when you felt him stiff against your core, “Finally got a taste of how you are supposed to feel with an alpha?”

“Don’t tease,” you murmured, throwing your head back and grinding against him when his mouth descended down your neck to your neckline, “This is – it’s so good, alpha.”

You had half a mind to pull down your dress for him, to have him. But there was something else you needed first, something that you thought you would get when his mouth came up again, his nose touching yours.

“I cannot kiss you,” he finally whispered against your lips and you whimpered (whimpered!), “Not yet.”

“Why not?” you asked, shifting your hips so you could feel him press right against your core, “Please, alpha …”

He inhaled sharply. “Because if I kiss you,” he murmured, “I won't be able to stop and I have a house full of guests. And because,” he adjusted himself in front of you, winking when he saw your open-mouthed stare at where his hand had disappeared in his pants, “The first time I fuck you won’t be in a tiny bathroom. And I know you wouldn’t want that either. Not when you’re seeing someone else.”

“Josh …” you realised with dread, guilt filling you at the fact that despite all your fears, you still had been intimate with someone else, “I – I need to break things off with him. After the dinner.”

Boba nodded, slowly stepping away from you, his hands running over your shoulders to your hands, lightly squeezing them before leaving you completely. “I will give you a minute alone,” he decided quietly though he looked as reluctant to leave you as you felt at having him gone, “I’m going to call you, ‘kay?” he asked, “After all this is over and – and you feel like you maybe … want to see people.”

“Okay,” you said hoarsely, your heart still threatening to burst out of your chest, “Okay, alpha.”

He threw a look back at you, the door already half closed behind him, “See you in a minute, omega.”

Omega is not an insult, it is a love confession.

“You smell odd,” Josh wrinkled his nose on the way home and you looked at him in disbelief. Everything around you reeked of Boba, the scent of pinewood and smoke so clear in the air you were surprised he had not picked it up as soon as you had sat down next to him.

The rest of the dinner had been an absolute disaster with Josh continuing to want to convince everyone he was right about his opinions on the omega problem (as he called it) and you had done your best to occasionally look at someone other than Boba. Boba had looked particularly smug the rest of the night though there was some frowning, too, when Josh had used your relationship as the perfect example of how his theories worked. And all you had wanted to was tell him to shut up. Because he didn’t know you and he certainly didn’t love you. He just loved the fact that he had found someone with an alleged 98% match on The App and had decided that that must be enough for you to love him.

“I got scented,” you heard yourself say, your voice surprisingly strong, “By Boba.”

“Ah yes,” he nodded, “That must be it.”

“Are you – do you not care?” you asked, shocked.

“Of course, I am displeased,” he shrugged, “I never thought you would be the kind of omega that would let herself be scented. But the app says we are a perfect match and the app doesn’t lie.”

You spotted your apartment complex at the end of the street and finally felt free to say what you had wanted to say all evening.

“This is not working,” you announced, “I am sorry. We clearly have very different ideas of what a good relationship looks like and I want – I deserve – someone who takes care of me during my heat. Who picks me up when my car breaks down and who does not decide what kind of omega I am. And what do you even mean by that kind of omega? Like there are good ones and bad ones and if I suppress all my wants and needs and desires and try my hardest to act like I have no presentation at all, I am a good omega? Is that it?”

Josh was clearly taken aback by your outburst but he only said something once he had parked in front of your building.

“There is no need to get hysterical, darling,” he answered, though he did not sound very calm, “You had a long day. Let’s talk again tomorrow.”

“No,” you said firmly, “We are done, Josh. The App does lie because we are not a perfect match. Sorry for wasting your time.”

And with that you went home, feeling ten tons lighter.

#maybege writes #boba fett x reader

251 notes · View notes

jordyn14 · 30 days

Note

request

angst (divorce, don’t love)

Y/N and Joe are childhood bestfriends, their families are friends and everyone waited the moment that they had start date. They started dating officially during 9th grade. They married after their graduation and they had four children. Joe always been a wonderful man, kind, gentleman, always treated as a goddess, and he is a greatest dad. but y/n leaves him devastated by asking for divorce, because she feels that her love as a wife is over, she no longer loves him as a husband.

Pairing: Joe x first person fem reader

Word count: 2283

Notes: thank you for this request! Keep in mind that it is the first request I’ve gotten so I hope you enjoy!!!

For the past few months, something has been weighing down on me. From the time I wake up to the time my head hits my pillow at night, I am thinking about it. No matter what I do, I can’t seem to shake it. What’s worse is that Joe has no idea what is going on. I don’t know if the worse part about it is that I’m going to be dropping a bomb on him out of nowhere, or the fact that he has been so oblivious about his own wife being completely miserable. I wake up, take the kids to school, go to work, pick the kids back up, make dinner, say hello to Joe, go to sleep, and do it all over again. Over…and over…and over again.

It sucks. This life sucks. I never thought I’d be saying it, but it’s true. It didn’t used to suck, though. My life was great. I moved to Athens, Ohio when I was 10 years old after my dad got a new job. I knew nobody at my new school. I walked through school with my head held low, scared that I would never make friends and never connect with anyone at this new school. That was until someone took a chance on me. Can you guess who? Ding ding ding. Joseph Lee Burrow.

He was incredible from the start. Every chance we got, we were hanging out either with some other friends, or alone. We became such good friends that our parents had no other choice but to become best friends as well. From the start, our families used to joke around about how one day we would fall in love and get married. Of course we responded with, “ew, her? No, she’s my best friend,” or “ew, him? No, he’s my best friend.” I thought we would stay best friends forever, until I slowly started to realize that I was falling for my best friend. We stayed friends all the way until 9th grade when Joe finally confessed he had feelings for me.

All throughout high school we were together. We were inseparable. We were known as the ‘it couple’ of high school. Anywhere I went, Joe went, and anywhere Joe went, I went. We loved it that way, though. We never got sick of each other. We wanted to be in each other’s presence forever. We eventually won prom king and queen and obviously went to the same college. Right after our first year of college, when I finally turned 18, Joe proposed to me and we got married. We were so in love, even at a young age. When people said that true love or soulmates didn’t exist I wanted to say, “excuse me, speak for yourself.”

Everything was going right for so long, even through long distance when Joe went to LSU. It was hard, but we got through it and moved to Cincinnati right after the draft. My husband, the #1 pick in the draft. We were on top of the world. Everything was going our way. Shortly after the draft, I got pregnant. It was incredible. We were finally able to build the family we always wanted. One kid led to two, two led to three, and then finally we had our fourth child 5 months ago.

Everything was going right, until it wasn’t. After a few years, things started to fall apart for me. It was so incredibly hard to be in the spotlight. Not only was I supposed to maintain this image as the QB1’s wife, but I had to do it all while juggling work and kids. That’s when the anxiety came. Trying to uphold this image felt impossible and no matter how much Joe tried to reassure me, it just wasn’t enough.

I thought I could do it. I thought I could be with Joe while he lived out his dream, but I couldn’t anymore. It was too hard. It was too much pressure. The realization that I was falling out of love with my husband was heartbreaking and terrifying, but I wanted-no, needed-better for myself. Joe needed a wife who could endure all of those things that came with being married to a man in the NFL. I just wasn’t the right girl for him.

I sat on the couch with my hands in my lap, picking away at the skin until my fingers bled. I wiped the blood off on my pant leg while bobbing my knee up and down, up and down. So many Thoughts raced through my head, but I knew what I needed to do. All of a sudden, I heard Joe’s car pull into the driveway and knew that this was it. This would be the last time Joe would come home to his loving wife. This would be the last time Joe thought he was coming home to a woman who loves him.

I finally stood up while still ripping off the skin around my finger nails as the door opened up. Joe walked in a few steps and groaned loudly while throwing his bag on the couch. “Oh boy, today’s workout was tiring.” He chuckled and began to walk over to me, stretching his arms above his head. I gave him a small smile as he wrapped me in his arms. I wrapped my arms around him as a tear escaped, but I quickly wiped it away before he noticed.

Even now he still couldn’t tell anything was wrong. Was he really that oblivious? How Could he not tell that his own wife was miserable? When we pulled away, Joe glanced up at the stairs with a confused look on his face and asked, “where are the kids?” I stayed in place as he walked over to the stairs, waiting for the 3 of them to run down and give him a big hug. They usually did. It was the same thing every. Single. Day.

“Maisie is upstairs sleeping, but Dakota, Louie, and Georgia are at the sitters. Can we talk?” I asked him. With a hesitant shrug, Joe walked over to the kitchen, expecting dinner to be done and waiting for him like always. Don’t get me wrong, he loved me with his whole being. He loved our family with his whole being. But everyday was the same. He came home, said hi to me and the kids, ate and watched film. It was like I got no time alone with him. I craved that kind of love again. The love that consumed me. The love I felt before he let football come between us.

“Where’s dinner? I’m starving.” Joe said when he realized there was no dinner cooking yet. “I didn’t make dinner yet, can we talk first?” I asked Joe and followed right after him as he leaned on the counter. “I have to go watch some game film, but after I can go pick up some food.” He said with a smile. With a sigh, I looked down at the ground for a few seconds before dragging them up to Joe. “Joe, for the past 6 years, we haven’t been right…I don’t want to do this to you, but I want a divorce.” I said. I ripped the bandaid right off. I didn’t give myself time to change my mind and continue to be miserable. For the first time in a few years, I finally spoke my mind. It felt amazing.

Joe chuckled and walked over to the cupboard, grabbing out some potato chips. I heard the annoying ruffling of the bag before I heard him chewing. “Haha, so funny.” Joe laughed, thinking I was joking. “This isn’t a joke. Can we talk?” I asked. Joe glanced over at me with that same smile on his face as he shoved some more chips in his mouth. Still, he laughed like I was joking, going about his business. I bit the inside of my cheek as I continued to hear his annoying chewing in my ear. All of a sudden, I ripped the bag of chips away from him and slid them across the counter so he couldn’t reach them.

“This isn’t a joke.” I said. The smile on Joe’s face dropped immediately and he looked shocked. “What are you talking about?” He asked me in a nervous monotone way. I tried to stop the tears from rolling down my face, but I couldn’t. No matter how much I wanted a divorce and how much I was miserable living here with him, I still felt like I was going to be losing a part of me. Ever since I was 10 I’ve been with Joe, and now I wouldn’t. I didn’t know how I was going to continue my life without him, but I needed to. For my own sanity and wellbeing.

“I want a divorce Joe. I can’t do this anymore, I’m sorry.” I said. Joe was quick to answer, shocked at what I was throwing at him, “what do you mean? Everything is fine…” Joe said, trying to think of when I’ve shown that I was not okay with the way our relationship was going. I felt crushed at the fact that he couldn’t even tell that for a while-mostly the past few months-I’ve fallen out of love with him.

“No it’s not Joe. I can’t do this anymore.” I said. I tried to talk more, but Joe talked over me. “Why?” He asked me quickly and abruptly. “I can’t keep doing this-“ I started to say but he cut me off once again and said, “What do you mean this? What do I need to do?” I put both of my hands on the counter and drug my eyes up to look like him. “Everything, Joe. Everything. It’s exhausting. I thought I would be able to juggle a full time job, being a mom, and being married to an NFL player, but I can’t, I’m sorry.” I admitted to him.

It felt like a weight was being lifted off of my shoulders. For the first time in a long time, I was able to take a deep breath and let go of some anxiety and stress. “No, no, no,” Joe said to himself and then looked up at me with a painful look on his face, “you’re saying you don’t love me anymore?” My heart was crushed at the look on his face and how helpless he looked. The love of his life was telling him that she wanted to leave and he was in denial. “No, Joe. I don’t. Our crazy lives ruined that for us. I mean hell, we barely see each other. If you’re not at games, you’re at the facility or in a different state with friends while I’m at work or with the kids. I don’t deserve that and the kids don’t either.” I said.

Doing what I did, Joe leaned on the counter like he couldn’t stand up straight as tears streamed down his now rosy cheeks. “You signed up for that…don’t do this…we love each other.” He said. I let out a small sob, the emotions spilling over uncontrollably. I put my hand over my mouth and said, “I know I did, and I am so, so sorry for that, but I can’t do it anymore. I need a husband who is around more and is willing to sacrifice his job for his family.” I said. Joe walked closer to me while shaking his head, his face wet with tears and some snot from crying. I could barely look at his face. It pained me so much to see him like this. He was so despondent.

“You know I can’t do that.” He said simply, running his fingers through his long hair quickly. Oh that hair. I would miss that hair. “I know, and that’s why I have to leave. You don’t deserve a wife who no lon-no longer loves you.” I said, unable to get the sentence out without letting out a sob. It hurt me so much, but this was good. I needed to leave. I couldn’t stay. “Come on, don’t do this. I don’t understand. I love you more than anything.” Joe cried. I felt terrible, I did. For so long he went through life thinking nothing was wrong, and maybe I was good at hiding it, but he should’ve known. He should’ve been able to tell that his wife wasn’t happy with him or in love with him anymore.

“Listen to me, Joe. This life was great, don’t get me wrong. We were great…but football changed you and changed the way I feel about you. I want more out of this life than just being your second option.” I said. Joe looked up at me with a small scowl through the tears and said, “you were never my second option. Never. You know that.” He said. But it was a lie. I used to be his first option though, and I wish it were still that way, because this wouldn’t be happening if so. “Yes, yes I am. It started after your second year in the NFL, right after you tore your ACL. After that, me and the kids came second to your football career.” I said.

I scanned Joes face as he started to connect some of the dots and realize that after today, everything would change. Our lives would be so different after today. “I don’t hold anything against you, Joe, please understand that. It’s an impossible spot to be in, for both of us. But you deserve a person who is okay with being second to football, and I’m not.” I said. “Please don’t do this to me.” Joe said and looked up at me. We held eye contact for a few seconds, just scanning each other’s faces. I could tell Joe was searching my eyes for some sort of connection. For some sort of love. Maybe if he found that he could save this marriage, but he looked down at his hands when he found none. “It’s over, we’re over.” I said.

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