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studioghibelli · 4 months

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the end of the world- a joel miller x reader

summary: you had a strict relationship with joel that stuck to the rules. fuck, leave, repeat. it was only a matter of time until feelings were dragged into the mix. when joel leaves at the first sign of love, you're left wondering what you had done wrong. (rated explicit, 18+, mdni)

warnings: post outbreak!joel, jackson!era, implied fwb relationship, heavy handed on the angst, a whole lot of pining, a lot of flashbacks, and smut. (unprotected piv sex, fingering, clit rubbing, masturbation?, dirty talk, pet names, allusions to slapping/rougher sex, brief biting, a tiny bit of daddy kink.) ended with a bit of fluff

note: i think this is my favorite thing i have ever written. i guess i was in some sort of mood or sumfin. also i absolutely hate spell checking so sorry for any errors. enjoy!!

Joel used to be rough.

He used to imprint his name upon your skin through heavy handed grips and crescent shaped nail marks, left deep into the supple skin of your thighs. Like hieroglyphs on a wall of sandstone, he made sure the world would see what beauty he had left etched into your skin, like a canvas that only he had the privilege of painting.

He used to take you by the throat and kiss you with biblical fervor. He would kiss you so hard the taste of his spit lingered on your tongue for the days following, reminding you who you belonged to, if only for a few hours.

He used to sink his incisors into your neck, suckling at your skin like a vampire in search of an artery. He would leave deep patches of purple beneath your ear, the mark of a man who knew just what you wanted, the mark of a man who was more primal, more animalistic, than he was human.

Then, something changed.

Soft was he, on one fateful night, where his rough palms dragged across the side of your body, gentle waves of pleasure heaving, heaving, heaving, washing over you until you were a shell drowning in an ocean tide, consumed only by thoughts of him.

Joel, Joel, Joel.

A mantra, a promise, a prayer.

Soft was he, his lips molding to yours like cement stuck in the cracks of sidewalks, unwavering and unbreaking, filling you up to the hilt.

Soft was he, as he slipped his cock deep into your pussy, deep and gentle, hitting against every inch, every spot, that made your legs quiver just for him.

Soft was he, as he cradled your face in his rough hands, eyes boring in to your own, the curved bridge of his nose pressing into your rounded cheek, coaxing you, asking you, begging you, to cum for him.

Only ever him.

His hand's had done irreversible damage, taken many lives, and he pushed back the guilt for those crimes long ago, but Joel figured that perhaps holding your face in his hands was worth all the blood, the sweat, the grime and decay. Perhaps touching the skin of an angel was enough to bathe him clean from his past sins, enough to purify the monster which lurked within.

And then one day, he swore you off.

"Can't be around you anymore." He snarled, hand dragging down his face, heavy and hot with the burning poker of shame.

"Says who?" Your voice was cracking, the angry prick of tears stabbing at your eyes, like daggers dripping with bitter venom.

"Me. This ain't.... right. We should never have done this."

"Why isn't it right?" You were begging, trying your hardest to coax put a semblance of an answer from him.

"You're too young for this. For-for me. I ain't good for you."

"Where is this coming from? Just two nights ago you were making love-"

"That's the problem." Joel hissed. "Makin' love." He scoffed spitefully, shaking his head firmly. "It's the end of the fuckin' world and I'm worried about makin' a woman cum, makin' your eyes roll. I should be out fightin', I should be out makin' rounds and doin' my work. Ain't thought of anything like that since I've been with you. I have duties. Responsibilities. I'm too old to be sleeping around like some teenager."

You hated yourself for allowing a tear to slip, hated yourself for showing weakness in his presence. "What about your duty to me?" You cried out, hands tangling into tight fists. You felt your veins pumping with venomous resentment, wondering how you could have been so stupid to allow him respite behind the walls of your soul, sanctuary from the world around the two of you.

"I don't have no duty to you. You're not my wife, not my girl. You're just somebody I was fuckin'."

That was two months ago. Two long, grueling months.

This winter in Jackson was particularly brutal. Perhaps nature had been in tune with your heart, rocking and shaking and screaming in unison with your thoughts, angry and vengeful. Like Poseidon wreaking havoc on the ocean, like Zeus bringing hailstorms of lightning, like Zephyrus playing his hand in an assailing wind; you felt your rage through the soil, the packed snow, the shaking pine needles.

Everyday you would trek to your shop, sit behind the counter, and patiently wait for someone to stop by, wait for someone to ask how your day was (which you would inevitably lie about, tell them how good you were), and wait for someone to barter or trade with you.

A dozen chicken eggs for a woven blanket, a few sprigs of rosemary for some pencils, a handful of sheep's wool for some freshly pressed paper.

It was the same every day.

Rise, work, sit, cry, sleep, repeat.

For the past two months you had lurked around the corners of Jackson with a heavy gray cloud hanging over your head, and each day for the past two months you despised yourself for being so caught up with Joel fucking Miller, for being so upset he left you.

You lived in the smallest house in Jackson. There was no reason for you to take up a big one, no reason for you to have two stories, no reason for you to have a big open kitchen or spacious living room. What was the point? No husband, no children, no nothing.

You had tried to make it yours, and you had tried to make it happier since that horrible, awful, nasty thing happened between you and Joel.

You had bought a thick and oversized crocheted blanket the color of sand with a harvest worth of kale, thrown it over a soft and lived-in suede couch to curl up under. You had bartered a basketful of gourds for two knitted pillows, a brown dachshund stitched into one, and a ginger cat stitched into the other. You had picked up a backpack full of books on a run into the nearest town, settling on classics that you used to read as a young girl, in hopes you could feel that golden peace so often felt during childhood, when the only pressing matters on your mind were untied shoelaces and what mom was cooking for dinner.

A life long ago. A life you could barely remember. You were a small child when the world went to shit, barely starting school, with gaps between your teeth and messy, unruly hair. Still growing out of your sneakers, still biting your nails, still picking up worms from the rich soil with amazement and wonder bubbling in your eyes.

When everything happened, when the buildings were bombed and fields burnt, you were forced to grow up. Forced to toughen up, to be someone you never planned on being at such a young age. You ditched the sparkly backpacks and trips to the library for switch blades and look out towers, for uneasy silence and stale dinners.

Then you met Joel, many years after it first began, and everything seemed a little bit better. It started fast and rough, as though you both thought the world would implode the following morning. And then, when the realization that this was life, that nobody was going anywhere, things grew gentler, softer, more meaningful.

Joel's kisses grew deeper, his touches dragged out for longer, his mouth imprinted upon your soft and lithe skin like droplets of dew on blades of morning grass, gentle and ethereal. His words became breathless, sweet, full of desire and thick with honeyed praise.

"Look at you, such a pretty little thing. Shakin' like this, all for me. Who's makin' you feel like this, sweet girl?" Joel's middle finger was buried to the knuckle in your tight pussy, thumb gently tapping at your clit. A string of saliva strung from your nipple to his lips, where his plush mouth had been covering your hardening bud in gentle bites, sucking like a man on a mission.

"You." Your voice came out as a mewl, quiet and shaking. "You, daddy."

Joel grunted a primordial, brutish grunt that rumbled through the sturdiness of his chest, adding a second finger as his head ducked down to your neck, where his kissing resumed upon the blades of your collarbone. "Good fuckin' girl. Good girl. So fuckin' good, a god damn dream. You know that?"

The wall in front of you was covered in framed images you had found on your travels around Jackson. Some original art you scored in the back of a desolate thrift store, some vintage movie posters you found huddled in the dusty corners of a theatre, some polaroid photos you had taken with old friends.

You blinked the memories of him away.

With each day, you tried to convince yourself it was for the best. With each day, you tried to make yourself understand where he was coming from, why he did the things he did.

"You're just somebody I was fuckin'." You remembered his words like sandpaper grinding against the track of your throat, burning their fiery syllables into your tongue. How true his statement actually was, you weren't so sure.

Joel's forehead was pressed to yours, eyes fluttering open and shut with each deep thrust, hands entwined into your own. Your palms were pressed rigid and unyielding into his, Joel's thick fingers wrapping and molding into your smaller ones, chest rubbing against yours with each masterful movement of his hips.

His hot breath, soaked with the sweet smell of whiskey, fanned across your face, coating you with the ache he felt for you, the love he knew he had growing deep inside for you. Each breath he took was a promise. He was never going to leave you. How could he?

"Joel." You chanted, head thrown back in ecstasy, eyes full of stars.

"What do you want from me, darlin'? Say the word and its yours." Joel's voice was breathless and throaty, coating you in the sweet nectar of his affection, seeping deep into your pores until it filled your soul with yearning,

His cock, thick and veined, was slowly pumping as deep is it possibly could within your walls. You fluttered and ached and wept against him, bodies meshing into one, tight and close yet flowing and gentle, like the Bernini sculptures you saw in an art encyclopedia, a long time ago in Boston. Joel filled you to the brim with his length. You felt full of him, wrapped and wanting and wanton. For his eyes only. Only ever him, always.

"Right there." You begged, nails dragging down the length of his wide, sturdy, strong back, marking him with the love caked beneath your fingernails. That unspoken love that weighed heavy on your shoulders, like a wool blanket in the dead of winter.

When Joel's eyes met yours, hitting against the spot you begged him to touch, he had that gaze glossed over his irises, that heavy, awfully gentle look threaded within the chocolate umber of his orbs, the stare that only a man in love ever carried with him.

The memory stuck to your mind like glue on a school project, drying there with no hopes of ever coming loose.

That night, with Joel so heavy on your mind, you treaded heavily to your record player, sifting through the record's you had collected over the years.

"That'll do." You mumbled with dejected finality, putting the vinyl on the player as you lowered the needle.

Why does the sun keep on shining?

Why does the sea rush to shore?

Don't they know it's the end of the world,

Cause you don't love me, anymore?

As you listened to the sweet voice of Julie London, you looked around your kitchen, the pile of dishes only stacking up, higher and higher. With your hands on your hips you walked over, forcing yourself to do something with your night. You couldn't sit and mope, you had already spent too long doing that anyways.

You let the hot water fall upon the backs of your dainty hands, watching with glass eyes as it fell and dribbled off your fingers, the soapy suds filling the porcelain bowls. You cupped them in your hands, breathing in the citrusy scent, closing your eyes.

Think. You begged yourself. About anything else but him. Think.

Why do the birds go on singing?

Why do the stars glow above?

Don't they know it's the end of the world,

it ended when I lost your love.

You pricked the tip of your finger with the sharp point of the butcher knife, gently twisting it soft enough to only make the hint of an imprint, thinking to yourself. You had lived your entire life fighting, fleeing, hiding, escaping, yet it only ever felt like the end of the world once you lost him.

"Damn you Julie London!" You shouted, voice mellow dramatic and emotive, face planting into your arm which rested on the wooden counter.

"What'd Julie London ever do to you?"

The voice, raw and rough, startled you, awakening you from your trance. Before you could catch it, a puppy like yelp escaped your mouth, sharp and nasty against the ears.

You knew who that voice belonged to. The voice that lulled you to sleep, the voice that whispered sweet nothings as you lay naked and bare on linen sheets, the voice that called you good girl and sweet angel and pretty princess whilst crammed deep into your cunt.

Joel.

Turning so hard you nearly snapped your own neck, you saw him standing in the doorway of your home, tall and brooding, filling the heavy air with the familiar scent of pine needles and bergamot. He held a basket in his arms. A basket he had bought from your shop, many moons ago.

“Ever heard of knocking?” Your voice was nastier than you meant it to be, but you couldn’t help the emotion rising within the confines of your chest, beating at your ribcage like a wild animal locked in a zoo.

“I did knock. You didn’t answer. Took the liberty to walk on in and check on you.” He shrugged, as if it was the most obvious answer in the world, and slowly shut the door behind him.

“To check on me?” You scoffed bitterly, turning your back to him again as you resumed your cleaning. You heard the vinyl come to a stop, the air silent and palpable, moulding to your rage. You took in a deep breath, looking down at the sponge you were grasping ahold of a little too tight. “Two months go by, and suddenly today- of all days- you decide to take the liberty to come and…. check on me?”

Joel’s sigh, burdened with what felt like guilt, swirled through your ears. “Yes.” Was all he said, simple and plain.

Oh, you had a lot more to say than one meager word.

You were too nervous to meet his gaze, too worried your tears would come flooding, soaking through your skin and deteriorating until you were nothing more than a puddle of nothing on the wooden floorboards.

“I….” You struggled for a long moment, tongue twisted and stuck in your own throat. “I don’t know what to say to you anymore.”

You heard the sound of dense boots against the ground, felt the weight of the air behind you shift. He was close. His scent was coated around the inside of your nostrils, fogging your mind with past memories you swore you’d never ponder on again.

“I know what you want to say.” Joel’s voice was quiet, barely a whisper in the wind. “That you hate me. That you never want to see me again. That you hope I’m ripped limb from limb by clickers. Gunned down by raiders.”

Tears welled within your eyes. You didn’t speak for a long beat, sniffling as quietly as you could possibly muster. “After everything, you know I-…. even after you broke me. I-I don’t wish for that. Never even thought of that.” You admitted your terrible secret with a shaking voice, hand tightening so deeply around the sponge, your middle finger sunk straight through the material.

Joel’s fingers gently traced down the small of your back. An offer. You heard a gentle thump as he set the basket down, followed by his other hand pressing flat into your side.

“I’m scared.” His voice was full of emotion you had never once heard from him. “That’s why I left.”

“What?”

“I’ve lost everyone, ‘cept Ellie. Tess, Bill, Frank, Sarah.” His voice cracked, trailing off. “I couldn’t lose you, too. I can’t watch you…. can’t watch you fall victim to this world.”

You shook your head, dropping the sponge against the metal sink, tilting your head to look out the window which stood in front of you. The night sky was sparkling with millions of stars before you, snow flaking down from the heavens, coating the glass window pane with a copious layer of delicate snowflakes, each so different and unique. It was beautiful.

Joel’s left arm slowly wrapped around you. You wanted to fight him off, wanted to scream and banish him from your home, wanted to promise if you ever saw him again you’d kill him on the spot. But you couldn’t. Not when he was so vulnerable, so warm, so willing.

You shifted against him, leaning back until your bodies were close together. His hand rested taut against your belly, his other arm soon finding solace beneath your shirt, pulling you even closer.

“I’m sorry.” He finally broke the dizzying silence, chin nuzzling into the blade of your shoulder. “I didn’t know what else to do. I- I still don’t know what to do.”

You blinked away new forming tears, taking in a deep breath. “You could start by warming me up.” You were so meek, you were unsure if he heard your words.

Joel’s hands slipped beneath the hem of your shirt, pressing gently into the skin of your tummy, fingers massaging into the supple skin of your waist, your love handles, drawing circles into the line of skin right above the hem of your pants. Your back fell deeper into his chest as he touched you, felt you, as if he had never known your body before.

You could stand there and argue with him, cry and rage and scream at the universe, or you could let him apologize the best way he knew, let him make it all up to you.

“After this,” you managed to choke out, “am I still going to be somebody you just fuck?”

He wasted no time shaking his head. “You never were. You were, are, the light of my life. I don’t know what I was thinking.” His breath was hot against your neck, his lips pressing kisses, scattered like constellations, into your skin.

“You weren’t thinking.” You moaned a breathless laugh, head tilting to allow him access.

“No, I wasn’t.” Joel’s fingers slipped into your pants, palm cupping your pussy, hot and wet with the promise of his touches. “Damn baby, this horny already?”

“Haven’t been touched in two months. Sure you understand.”

He chuckled a deep, endearing chuckle, nudging his nose into your cheek. “Think I should do somethin’ about this?”

You nodded quickly.

“Words, pretty baby. Use your words.”

“Yes. Please, do… do something about it.”

“That’s my good girl. I’ll give you what you want, I promise.”

You felt butterflies brewing within your belly as his middle finger traced the middle of your green cotton underwear, rubbing where you swollen clit gently poked against. He knew you like the back of his hand, like a map he had spent years memorizing. Giving you pleasure, knowing where and how to make you cum, had become second nature for Joel.

“Don’t be ‘fraid to lean against me. Let daddy take care of you.”You groaned softly at his words, falling back into his body. His strong arms wrapped around you, keeping you up, bicep thick and muscled against you. “Push those down for me.”

You wiggled out of your pants and underwear, bottom half open and exposed for him. His fingers dragged across your mound, brushing against the outside of your pussy that cried out for his touch.

Joel slipped his index finger between your outer lips, finding your clit, slowly drawing circles around your aching bud. You sighed out, once again meshing in to his chest as he touched you, feeling the silkiness of your pink, throbbing cunt.

“I missed this pussy. So wet for me, so needy. You like it when I touch you? Like it when I make you feel good?” His words were hot in your ear, melting into your senses like dripping candle wax.

“Oh, I love it. I love it so much. I love you so much.” You were too caught up in pleasure to understand the weight of what you just said, head rolling against his shoulder as he teased your pussy.

Joel let out a quiet moan at what you just admitted, his hold on you tightening. He was never going to let you go. He sunk his middle finger into your tight opening, slowly hooking it against you G-spot, thrusting it up and down the way he knew made you cry for him.

Your knees were shaking, yet you had no fear of falling. As foolish as it may have been, you had complete trust in Joel Miller. You knew he wouldn’t let you drop. Your walls fluttered around his finger, clit begging to be touched once more. You lowered your hand, gently flicking at your swelling button, moaning out as he added his ring finger to your cunt.

“That’s it baby. Rub that pretty pussy. Cum on my fingers.” Joel whispered m, gently biting down on your ear lobe.

You felt your thighs quivering, belly tightening as your orgasm drew closer. Joel watched you with hawk like vision, relishing in the way your fingers traced and danced across your clit. Before you had the chance to announce your climax, you found yourself cumming on his digits, coating them in you sweet, slick arousal, screaming his name as thought it was the only word you ever had the chance to memorize.

When you came down from your high, Joel slowly removed his fingers, bringing them to your soft lips. “Suck.” He commanded gently. You did, wrapping your mouth around them as you gingerly took them in, all the way to the hilt, sucking them clean and dry, free from any of your cum. “That’s my good girl, my pretty darlin’.”

You shivered against him, your head falling back. Joel gently tapped the counter. “Jump up there.” He whispered.

You did as you were told, grabbing the collar of his flannel, pulling him closer.

“Kiss me, Joel Miller.”

And kiss you he did.

His lips found yours with the passion of ten thousand soldiers, sickly sweet and supple against your mouth. Joel was consuming you with this kiss, torridly leaving his mark into the soft ridges of your pouted lips, blanketing you with the desire he had for you that he so often tried to push down. Your fingers found his graying hair, legs wrapping around his waist until the bulge breaking at his jeans was pressed right into your bare pussy.

You grinded against him, clit still sensitive and aching from the power of your last orgasm. Still, you dropped your hands to his zipper, tugging them down swiftly.

“Want you to fuck me.” You whispered against his mouth, tongue sliding across his. “Want you to cum inside me. Make me yours.”

“You’ve always been mine.” Joel muttered, hand slipping down to remove his boxers. “I was just bein’ an idiot.”

“Then make it up to me.”

The tip of his cock found the slick lips of your pussy, and he slowly pushed himself in through on graceful movement, filling you to the top until your clit was pressed against his stomach. Joel felt your pussy clench against him, and he groaned, letting his head fall to your shoulder. He sat there for a moment, relishing in the warmth being inside of you provided, arms wrapped around you like a belt, pressing you hard into his chest.

You gently placed your hands on the back of his head, pulling away to look at him. Tracing over his features, you took every inch of him in. That Aquiline nose you had grown to love so much, the patchy beard littered with charming speckles of silver, that stray curl in the middle of his forehead that never stayed put. Joel Miller was beautiful. He was an enigma of a man. Stoic, masculine, tender, intuitive, full of emotions and worlds unknown to everyone. Everyone but you. He was a crazy, deep, beautiful paradox of a human, and he was all for you.

Joel slowly pushed out from you, before pumping himself back in. He did this a few more times, his eyes never straying from your own. His fingers slipped to your clit, gently rubbing the pad of his thumb against it.

“Think you can cum on my cock?”

You nodded.

A smile lifted the right corner of his mouth. “Tha’s what I like to hear.” He leaned down, kissing you again as he began fucking you, deep and slow, each move methodical and well planned, as if he knew just what he wanted to do to your body.

Your hands fell to his broad shoulders. His broad shoulders. That alone could have made you cum. The tanned slope of his beautiful, beautiful shoulders, collarbones thick and jutted out just right, followed by patchy chest hair, down to his soft belly that pressed into yours so perfectly. He was beautiful. You traced your fingers down the trail of his biceps, feeling the muscles tense beneath your touch, straight to his wrists, lacing with his long, skilled, well worked fingers, palm rough and calloused, tough as leather against the softness of your sweet, smooth hands.

You drunk his figure in like a lovesick fool. Oh, you were, weren't you? So full of love and affection for this brute of a man, well aware he struggled with his emotions. You watched the crows feet by his eyes crinkle as he clamped his eyes shut, watched the line of his neck pulse as he threw his neck back in pleasure.

He was a Baroque portrait of lust standing before you, dark and brooding, thrusting into your cunt as if it were the sweetest thing in the world for him. He growled into the air with each pump of his hips, nails digging into your skin as he held you close, never to let go.

"Joel." You whispered softly, burying your face in his chest as your second orgasm fast approached. You weren't sure why you said his name, not sure what you wanted exactly, but Joel knew. He always knew. He just cradled the back of your head with his right hand, his other gripping ahold of your waist, pounding faster, deeper, harder, hungrier. You were all he wanted, all he ever wanted, all he ever needed.

Joel bit down onto your shoulder softly as he twitched inside you, and you knew his orgasm was soon to come. He kept the same pace on your clit until you were putty in his hands, legs tightening as pleasure washed over you. You both came in harmony, moans mixing and melding into the air which surrounded you. His cock painted your walls with thick, hot ropes of white, and your tightening walls milked every last lick of it out as your came hard, head dizzy with thoughts of him.

He whispered your name softly as he slowed to a stop, pillowing you against his body. "God, I missed you."

You nodded in agreement, sticky skin pressed together like two puzzle pieces. "I missed you." You pulled away, holding on to him for support as you slowly stepped off the counter. You gently pressed your palm into his chest, feeling his cum dribbling down your thigh. You smiled softly at the feeling before glancing up at him. "More than you know."

Joel gently ran his palm down your back as you slipped your underwear on, quickly following suit.

"What's in the basket?" You asked, pointing to the item he left alone on the living room rug.

"Oh. It was s'posed to be a peace offerin'. Makin' up with you was easier than I thought." Joel joked, and you gently slapped his shoulder.

"Whatever." You giggled, walking over to the present.

Inside were some paintings Ellie had made you that Joel never had the courage to send before, some sprigs of dried herbs they were growing in their back yard, some handmade goats soap from a lady down the street, and a long, narrow velvet box. You picked it up slowly, turning to look at him.

"Now if you don't like that I might as well go out and die in the woods. Took me fuckin' weeks to find." Joel admitted, rubbing his neck nervously. "I remember you sayin' you wanted one of them."

You slowly opened it, met with a shimmering string of pearls. A necklace. A necklace you had spent your whole life yearning for. Your lips parted with surprise. "I-I've never seen one in person. Only in those old magazines they had back at QZ."

Joel walked towards you, nodding a bit. "Spent a whole weekend with Tommy, all the way in Cheyenne. Almost got me killed." He chuckled, hands falling to your hips.

"Oh, Joel. It's beautiful. It's.... I've never seen something like this before." You whispered earnestly, gently sweeping your hair up. "Put it on me?"

He smiled a soft, rare smile, gingerly clipping it around your neck. He took a step back, admiring you, soaking you in, memorizing the way it looked on you. "Yeah, that was worth the trouble."

You smiled happily, falling into his arms. He held you tightly to his chest, fingers sweeping through your locks of hair. "By the way..." Joel murmured into your head, pulling away slowly as his fingers found your chin. Your eyes met in a searing gaze, full of summertime warmth that fell over you like golden sunlight. He stared at you long and hard, and you saw something like tears gloss over his gaze.

And when he spoke, his voice was calm, steady, devout:

"I love you, too."

3K notes · View notes

bettysupremacy · 4 months

Note

Omg imagine james doing something stupid (not much imagination needed there) and r is telling him of (lovingly) and he’s just like “yes ma’am🫡” and the others are like side eyeing him I just NEED james to call me ma’am in an argument

i hope you are having a great december so far my love

(not much imagination needed there) LOL

i could kiss you this idea is so cute thank you lovely

“Oh, my boy.” You croon to the mess tumbling into your lap. Softly, you brush some hair from his fluttering eyes. “What‘ve the evil twins done to you.”

“Evil twins!” Sirius gasps.

Remus laughs. “That’s a new one.”

You don’t look up from the sickly boy careening for your touch. “What did they feed you?”

He moans into you, muttering something you can’t pick up. He’s gone all right, ten shades of flushed and warm to the touch. It’s already a warm night, but this is no warmth that came naturally.

“We didn’t do anything.” Remus denies impishly.

“Puking pastilles again?” You eye them. “Do you know how long we sat by the toilet?”

“That was not our fault.”

“And neither were the nosebleed nougats?” You sigh. “Seriously thought his brain was coming out his nose.”

Sirius nods in agreement nose scrunching. “Not his finest moment.”

“Because of you.”

“Don’t start with me, woman.” His finger points between your eyes.

James is malleable under you, nose pressing into your thigh coyly. You see the corner of a smile as you fuss, guilty pleasure at your roaming touch. The room is hot, warm bodies passing and going as they please through the small flat. You fear he may run a fever, though that’s uncommon. James immune system is a rock, solid at anything thrown to it.

You press your hand to his forehead. “Has he had to much?”

The boys eye each other suspiciously. “Too much?”

You scoff. “To drink?”

“Depends.” Sirius shrugs

“On what!”

Their dubious behavior alarms you. These boys are up to something, or rather, were up to something, and now they’re avoiding dealing with the consequence of you.

“The substance.”

“Substance?” You sit up straight, shuffling the boy under you. He grumbles in protest.

“Potion.” Remus gives.

You frown apprehensively. “You didn’t.”

“We didn’t,” Sirius starts.

“he did.” Remus finishes.

Felix Felicis. They’d been talking about it a couple weeks ago, getting their hands on some. You protested, begged them, to forget it. It’s too dangerous, your voice of reason lowered their spirits, James you’ll be sleeping on the couch if you risk yourself like that.

“No,” You whine, fretting over the intoxicated fool. “how much?”

“Ask loverboy.”

“The whole,” James takes a deep breath mid sentence. “bottle.”

“Oh my god,” your eyes wide at the older boys standing. “he’ll be puking all night.”

“Maybe not..”

Your face drops into your hands exhausted. “Puking Pastilles all over again.”

“M’sorry.” James moans under you. “M’so sorry, lovely.”

“That was so stupid.” You scold lightly, hand coming down to flatten over his collar bones. “So, so, so, stupid!”

You're ruffled, shaken at the thought of him downing such an expensive, easily tainted, potion.

“Do you listen to everything they tell you to do?”

“No,” he starts slowly.

“Seems like it.” You bristle, pulling him up to sit. You look into his eyes seriously and he shuffles, nervous under your gaze. “Get a mind of your own.”

His fingers twitch at the hem of the dress you’d picked out tonight, squeezing it in his grip, grounding himself in reality. “Yes ma’am.”

Sirius scoffs behind you, shaking his head at Remus who looks equally perturbed at James’ extra affection. Under them, you wrap your arms around his neck surely. Besides the soft sent of sickly sweet potion, he smells of pine and cologne. You let yourself recognize his body is continuing to function as it should. Untouched, mostly, by the yellow inebriant.

“I can’t stand you, do you feel well?”

“I’m feeling better.”

You stick your face in his shoulder. “Be serious.”

“No, I don’t feel well.”

You sigh into him, pressing a kiss into his freckled skin. He won’t sleep on the couch tonight, though you aught to teach him a lesson.

“We’re going home.”

“What?” James frowns. “We only just got here.”

“D’you have another pool to jump in?”

He cringes at the memory of his fireball spree. “Kay, coming.”

You collect your coat and purse as you stand, leaving James to fend for himself behind you. “Felix Felicis isn’t a joke, one wrong tincture of thyme and you’re in St Mungo’s- James, were are your shoes?”

#james potter x you #james potter blurb #james potter fluff #james potter x reader #james potter imagine #james x reader #james potter fic #james x you #james potter fanfic #james potter fanfiction #james potter #james potter comfort #james potter x y/n #james potter x y/n fluff #james potter x fem!reader #james potter x wife!reader #marauders x reader #marauders fluff

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smusherina · 3 days

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yard work - chapter 12 (regina george x reader)

fandom: Mean Girls (all media)

pairing: Regina George x OFC/Reader

summary: You'd been in the same class as Regina George since kindergarten. You'd lived on the same street even longer. Once upon a time, when life was sandbox disputes and who got the swing first arguments, you'd even been friends. Now, in junior year of high school, you doubted she even remembered you. The same couldn't be said about you. You definitely remembered her. warning(s): a homophobic character saying some homophobic shit. listen, it's set in 2004 it was inevitable.

chapter 1 / chapter 2 / chapter 3 / chapter 4 / chapter 5 / chapter 6 / chapter 7 / chapter 8 / chapter 9 / chapter 10 / chapter 11 / chapter 13

"So..." Gretchen drawled from the passenger seat. "You're still not doing the dance with us?"

Regina glanced at her. "No."

"Cady's taking the lead." The brunette said, very badly acting as if she wasn't looking for a reaction. Regina resisted the urge to bite back, to defend her honour, and kept her eyes on the road.

"Great." She said, voice tart. "She's doing the stunt, is she?"

"Yup." Gretchen's breath hitched. "She's, uh, got it nailed down."

A mean smirk spread her lips. "Oh, really? I'm looking forward to it."

Gretchen swallowed. Regina spied from the rearview mirror Karen was watching the scenery pass by dreamily.

"What's up, Karen?" Regina asked.

"The sky!" Karen stated proudly. "And birds, I suppose. Hold on..." She felt up her boobs, pulling at her nipple obscenely. "Ouch. Yeah, it's gonna start snowing soon."

Regina, knowing the forecast had promised much the same thing, hummed. "Gonna have to stay in, then."

Gretchen shifted her weight on the passenger seat. She seemed uneasy. Both she and Karen had been severely late to arrive at her car today and had seemed... Dodgy. Regina could hardly blame her, though. Things had gotten weird recently.

She wasn't being nice. Not exactly. She'd just, kind of, dialled it back a little. A year ago she'd have spent the days leading up to Christmas break making the rounds, spreading nasty rumours about this and that, ensuring everybody's holidays were ruined just the right amount. This time, she'd forgone that.

A part of it, a large majority, was due to the Thanksgiving fiasco with Jorts. Another, smaller part, was because she was tired. She just didn't want to.

Arriving at her house, Regina parked and stepped out of her car. Gretchen and Karen followed her inside where mom greeted them with mugs of hot chocolate. Fancy chocolate and skim milk. Regina pointedly left her mug on the tray.

As she was going up the stairs, she noticed neither Gretchen nor Karen had grabbed a mug.

"Take them." She gestured vaguely back to her mom. "Don't be wasteful, girls."

Making her way up leisurely, she relished in the sound of the two girls scrambling to grab their mugs and then follow her as fast as possible. She might've loosened her hold on the student body, but Gretchen and Karen she'd keep. She didn't care if it was immoral or something, she'd done a lot of work to get them where they were.

"Shane Oman's doing a Christmas party this Friday," Gretchen informed them as they settled around Regina's room. "There's talk he's specifically invited Doris Harris."

"Who the fuck names their kid Doris Harris?" Regina scoffed and inspected her nails. She'd have to get a new set soon. "Are you going?"

"What? You- you're not?" Gretchen sputtered.

"I have... Plans." Important, top-secret plans. "Shane Oman is a sleazebag and a womanizer. Doris can have him." She said airily and looked at the two girls sitting on her floor.

"What plans do you have?" Gretchen probed. Karen looked on, seeming to be in her own world. Little specks of snow were beginning to fall outside.

"Private." She left it at that. "Who are you bringing to the party?"

"Probably Jason." Gretchen sighed. Regina's face twisted.

"You're still with that douche?" She sat down cross-legged near the two. "Why?"

"Oh, do you think I should break up with him?" Gretchen looked between her and Karen, seeming lost. "I can do that."

Regina rolled her eyes. Okay, maybe she'd put a little too much work in these two. They were old enough to think for themselves.

"Look, Gretchen..." She closed her eyes. "I'm not gonna say sorry. I'm, uh, just not going to." She didn't tack on the yet that meant to crawl up her throat. Too much too fast. "However, it's becoming apparent that my usual methods are no longer as effective. Exhibit A, Cady Heron."

Gretchen stared at her. Then, her head tilted to the side like that of an inquisitive dog. Karen was gaping at her, having probably not comprehended a single word. Regina sighed.

"Look, I'm not gonna just waste my time and energy putting people down anymore!" She was feeling way too defensive and the others hadn't even said anything. "I might, like, join a sports team or something for senior year. Focus on myself."

"Wow." Gretchen breathed out. "So, you're just gonna step down?"

"I'm still Regina fucking George. I'm not gonna stop being me." That being a vicious bitch with a lot of hate in her heart. "I'm just saying that it's getting old."

"Why? You- you can't just stop. That makes no sense. Someone's gonna take you over, like- like Doris Harris!" Gretchen took several short breaths, this close to hyperventilating. "Doris Harris is going to be the new Regina George!"

She rolled her eyes so hard her entire head rolled with them. "That statement contradicts itself. If she's the new Regina George, I'm still on top. The original."

"You sound so alike." Karen smiled. "You two are so cute. True love."

"Karen!" Gretchen snapped, sounding like a chihuahua. "Shush!"

"Who sounds alike?" Intrigued, Regina leaned forward. "Me and who? True love?"

"Oh, uh..." Karen looked to Gretchen, who was trying (and failing) to subtly shake her head, and then to Regina whose eyes bored into hers. "Uhhhhhhh..."

"She's rebooting." Regina huffed, leaning back. "Gretch, I just... I don't care anymore."

It had been a startling realization. Not a quick one despite the one eureka moment that'd brought it all together. There were things more important to her than maintaining a hierarchy in high school. It still was important, to a degree, but well. If she had to pick between one-upping some random girl at a shitty party and date night with Jorts, the choice was entirely too obvious. It was going to be date night every time.

(If she even had that privilege anymore. She's called her slurs, for fuck's sake. She could only hope her apology would be good enough.)

"How can you not care?" Gretchen screeched. Karen sipped at her hot cocoa nervously.

"I just don't." Something like this, not caring about something, wasn't a decision she could consciously make. At least, not entirely. Once you stopped caring, you just did. That was that.

It wasn't easy, though. She didn't have the strength of will to be deliberately mean to everyone, every single day, but she would not tolerate people stepping on her toes. If somebody encroached, she wouldn't hesitate to bring them down. Where the line went, distinguishing between a serious threat and a general nuisance, was the hard part.

Letting go of the instinct to just be mean was a challenging hurdle.

"She's changed you. All this time, you've been talking to her, haven't you? J, Jorts, whoever she is. She's corrupted you." Gretchen sneered. "What happened, Regina? Or should I say, Reggie?"

Regina looked at her friend, minion, accomplice- whatever.

"Excuse me?" She said, so quietly it could've been mistaken for a whisper.

"You heard me." Gretchen's sneer dissolved, old instinct to cower kicking in. "Reggie." She hissed, a feeble attempt at keeping her power.

"What the fuck do you know about J?" Regina could feel herself grow cold, anger mixing with panic, mixing with visceral, palpable terror.

Of course, all that manifested as blind fury.

"We know plenty about J. You've never shut up about her. Y'know, I used to think she was an ex-boyfriend of yours 'cause of the way you talked about her. And now, it all makes sense." Gretchen spread her arms provocatively. "Because she's gotten into your head, used her sticky, lesbo fingers to mix you up. Snap out of it, Regina. This is not who you are."

Anger roiling in her stomach, she was about to release pure acid onto the dimwitted, insensitive, stupid girl, when Karen spoke up.

"Gretchen, you're being stupid." She said so lightly. Both of them turned to look at Karen. She was watching the window, looking immensely pleased with herself. Yet another correct weather report.

"What?" Gretchen breathed out.

"Stupid. That's stupid. I didn't know you were, like, homophobic." Seeming to focus, Karen turned to face Gretchen. "I think I told you my brother's gay."

"Oh." Gretchen deflated. Regina didn't know what she should do. "Well, that's different, he's a guy! Lesbians are totally different."

"How?" Karen, more engaged than Regina had witnessed her be in a long time, kept her eerily wide eyes trained on Gretchen. "How is it any different?"

"Listen, everybody can do what they want with... Whoever, like, consents, but it's different when they shove their beliefs in people's faces." Regina, quite astounded, didn't know what to say. Karen did, though.

"J didn't shove anything in our faces. I don't think she shoved anything in Regina's face." She put her finger to her chin. "Unless they're into that sort of thing."

"Karen..." Regina sighed.

"Anyway, I think your opinions about gay people are weird, Gretchen. You should look into that."

"My opinions are just fine!" Gretchen's shoulders rose all the way up to her ears. "You guys are the weird ones! It's not like I hate gay people! There's just, y'know, healthy concern. If it was so easy to turn Regina then what can they do to impressionable little kids?" Gretchen licked her lips nervously. "What about Kylie?" She asked, looking to Regina for sympathy or agreement or something.

By that point, Regina had checked out.

"I don't think Regina's changed. Not really." Karen's owl eyes turned to her. "She's just... Shedding. Like a snake. Getting a new skin." She dragged her eyes up and down. "Yeah. New, shiny scales. Like a blonde, human green tree python. My dad has one. A snake one."

"Thanks," Regina said, tone flat. She then turned to Gretchen. "Get out."

Her hands trembled. Rage or fear, she couldn't tell where the tremor stemmed from.

"Regina, this isn't right-"

Just the sound of her voice made her blood boil. Her eyes stung too, but she refused to feel anything but anger.

"What isn't right is that you're still in my house. J is my childhood friend and the assumptions you've made about her are life-threatening. People are killed because they're gay, Gretchen. She hasn't turned me into anything, much less something you're insinuating." The claim that Jorts had turned her into a lesbian was false. If there were to be a claim about Regina's sexuality alone, then the answer wouldn't be so clear. "Get your fucking act together. I'm too good to bother with high school politics. We're going to college in two years. Stop being so small-minded and do something with your life for once."

She heaved in lungfuls of air. She stood up abruptly, walked to the door and pointed down the hallway.

"I-" Gretchen tried to say something, but Regina just reiterated her point.

"Out!"

She didn't particularly care that her friend (ex-friend) didn't have a ride home. She didn't care that she was a bigot, that Gretchen was right about her and Karen being the weird ones. She didn't care that Jorts had definitely changed her in some way.

As soon as the brunette had scuttled down the stairs, the front door slamming on her way out, Regina slumped against her door. She didn't care. She did not care.

"So, is it just us, now?" Karen asked from her spot on the floor. Regina was pretty sure she hadn't moved an inch since she plopped down. "Is J gonna be our new friend?"

"I don't know, Karen." She buried her face in her hands. Fuck. She wasn't supposed to care. "I didn't know Gretchen was like that."

"Hmm." Karen hummed. "I didn't know you weren't like that."

Her head snapped up, looking at Karen. Her expression was unreadable, like a book with blank pages.

"I... I'm scared, Karen."

"Yeah. My brother's boyfriend is from Alabama and he's been beat up before 'cause he looks gay. And he is gay, but the earring gave it away, I think. And my uncle died of AIDS and my family don't really talk about him and we weren't allowed to see him. My aunt that's in New York's been living with her best friend of, like, thirty years for forever and I went to visit one time and they had only one bedroom."

That was perhaps the longest, most coherent sentence Karen had ever said. Too bad the subject was so grim.

"Wow, Karen. Sounds like your family's full of..." What could she call them? Her mind defaulted to nasty slurs. "People like that."

"I guess." She smiled faintly. "I hear them crying sometimes, in my brother's room, when they're home for the holidays. Mama says I shouldn't go up and snuggle them until they feel better. They're having a moment." Karen looked confused at that. "Are we having a moment?"

Regina slowly unfurled from her slump against the door. "Maybe."

"Oh. Okay." She accepted easily. The familiarity of the scenario had a smile creeping back to Regina. "My brother smiles the biggest when me and his boyfriend team up against him at board games. My mom cries when we visit my uncle's grave. She tells us stories about him and shows us pictures. My aunt has three cats with her bestie and they call them their children and they wear matching rings."

"That's really sweet, Karen." Regina, now smiling in earnest, shuffled closer.

"I don't really get it." She said in the same light tone she'd use when talking about schoolwork. "Like, my brother's boyfriend is really nice so I don't get why people beat him up for dating my brother. And I think it was really mean that my grandma didn't let mama see her brother when he was sick. And my aunt and her best friend already live together, have cat-kids, and kiss on the mouth, so why can't they get married for real?"

Regina stared ahead, more than a little floored. Gretchen, simultaneously surprisingly and unsurprisingly, was a homophobe. Regina knew the political climate and knew that being openly gay was social suicide, and sometimes literal suicide, but she hadn't expected someone so close to her to be like that. They hadn't talked about it much, to be fair. Besides, Regina wasn't much better. While she might've not been a real homophobe, as in actually subscribed to the ideology, she'd done plenty of homophobic acts.

Whether or not in the name of projection or denial didn't really matter. Janis 'Imi'ike had been the first girl she'd subjected to hate crimes and discrimination, but not the last. How many times had she shoved other girls under the bus so she could get off scot-free? How many times had she done it for a twisted sense of fun?

Too many, was the easy answer. Not enough, whispered the scared, hidden thing in the back rooms of her mind.

And Karen was an ally. A supporter of the cause. And unexpectedly well-spoken when she had something she liked to talk about.

"Karen, I like girls."

"Me too!"

Regina's heart beat like a drum. She was beginning to sweat.

"No- I mean, like, I'm... A lesbian. I guess."

"Okay!"

She snuck a glance at the other girl. She was peering mournfully into her empty mug.

"Like your aunt and her best friend." She took a deep breath. "I like girls in that way."

"Uhh, duh," Karen smiled at her, beamed, really. "J is your true love."

"I wouldn't go that far." Regina sighed but had to purse her lips to keep from smiling. At the same time, a knot tightened in her chest, like hiccups trying to escape. She threw her head back and puffed out a breath, blinking rapidly.

"Let's go get more hot chocolate and I'll tell you about my talent show performance." She wiped discreetly at her eyes and extended a hand to Karen.

"Hot cocoa!" The girl exclaimed as she pulled herself up with Regina's help. "Ouuuhh, what kinda performance?"

"A song." Regina guided them down the hallway. "For her."

Obviously, she had more than just a song planned. A proper apology, for one, was in the works. Karen didn't need to know about that, though. That was between her and J.

Notes: Boo I lied it's not the last one. I thought it would be! I was wrong! I did start rambling like I kind of predicted in the notes of the last chapter. Or, like, I felt the ending would be a little too abrupt without some downtime. So have some Regina POV!

Will no longer be making predictions about when the end is. I'll only be contradicting myself lol. But like, the arc is coming to a close, a natural end is coming. And then the epilogue things.

Praying to god the taglist will work. Trying a new method today, fingers crossed! Hand-typing every single fucking name, no commas in between names, the utmost technicalities. This is the night fellas, the night we've been waiting for.

Edit: it didn't work. in fact, it worked worse than the other times! fuck! put another version of the list, back with commas, and it seems to tag some people but not all. gonna have to do some scouring on the internets.

Taglist: @autorasexy, @wedfan2, @unadulterated-moron, @modernsapphicism , @9unknown0 , @sage-rose2000 , @massive-honkas , @nattys-swiftie , @likefirenrain , @luz-enjoyer , @dandelions4us , @natashamaximoff-69 , @alexkolax , @jareaul0ver , @here4theqts , @charleeeesworld , @natsbiggestfan1 , @brocoliisscared , @yellowwallflowers , @scarlettbitchx , @ayoungexwife , @cyberbonesworld , @syddie-reads , @screechcat , @theenglishswiftie , @gabby-duhh , @sweetmissnothing , @masterofpuppets-10 , @l1lass , @starved-mortal , @nothanksbye07 , @nenas19 , @jvuyii , @starry-night17 , @reneeswife24 , @glorioushamsterqueen , @krononan , @slug-on-bike , @rayisaknight , @chaseatlanticlover91 , @reginassweetheart , @mirage018

(if you want to be added to the taglist, comment so on this post! beware it seldom works. i try my best.)

#mean girls #mean girls 2004 #mean girls 2024 #regina george #regina george x reader #regina george x you #regina george x oc #regina george x ofc #mean girls x reader #lesbian regina george #wlw #fic: yard work

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wrongplacerighttime · 3 months

Text

agent!harry x agent!fmc

part one here ᵕ̈ // little bunny masterlist

the one where grace and harry don’t want to admit their feelings, then another undercover opportunity comes up, this time at a swinger party. harry gets jealous, grace hates him and swears she’ll never speak to him again (but does she really?) // little bunny part 2

ITS FINALLY DONE!!!!!! Im sorry it’s SO LATE ksckskckskc you can be mad it’s okay i understand im terrible.

wc: 6.1k

tw: mentions murder, swinger party (not harry and grace), jealous!harry, angsty vibes, unprotected sex, little bit of fluff at the end

Only You

“No! Absolutely not!” Grace snapped at Harry, stomping her foot like a Kindergartener who didn’t get their way. Harry grins at her display of frustration while crossing his arms over his chest, the sleeves around his biceps tightening. She doesn’t ever want to go undercover again, not after the last time. “You could ask literally anybody else.” She gestured out of the conference room window to their coworkers Gina and Kelly standing around the desk of a police officer, one whose name Grace didn’t remember. They’re discussing details of the most recent case before they go out to the latest crime scene.

“Yeah…but they don’t always fit the profile.” Harry argued back, then his smile grew. “You, however…you always fit the profile, bunny.”

She straightens, her mouth opening to speak before she quickly snaps it closed when she can’t gather her thoughts fast enough to answer. A heat swirls below her belt, one that she can’t blame on the Dallas climate. The weather was brutal, and to top it off, the air conditioning in the station was out. Stand up fans and box fans littered around the station only blew hot air around, not giving them any reprieve. She feels a bead of sweat trickle down her temple, her eyes trail over Harry, flicking to the three buttons of his shirt that were undone and showing just enough of his chest and the light sheen of sweat. She licks her bottom lip before pulling it between her teeth, her mind wandering. He looks like sex, standing there with his hands on his hips and his gun holstered on his belt. She imagines herself striding the short distance over to him and crashing her lips to his before dipping her head down and trailing her tongue over—

“Besides, I was just asking in case we did need to go undercover again, would you?” His voice pulls her from her daydream. She blinks the imagery from her mind, forcing herself back into the mindset she needs for this case.

“No. Final answer. Ask someone else.” She turns on her heel, walking out of the room before she can’t satiate the heat pooling between her thighs.

“Way to be a team player!” He yells from the doorway, causing heads to turn her direction. She doesn’t turn around, instead flipping her middle finger up towards him as she creates more distance between them. She rounds the corner, eyes falling to the floor as she makes her way to the breakroom. She grabs a water from the fridge, leaning against the counter before downing half of it. She breathes a heavy sigh, making a mental note to tell Aaron that she needed some time off after this case.

Grace and Harry haven’t been together since the case in Seattle. The martini’s she had that night forced her into a brief lapse of judgment, as gin usually did. Her clouded mind made her desire for a man who didn’t want her grow into something unfathomable. That night, after they left the room, Jesse made his move on Grace like they expected he would. His partner, the woman whose name they later found out was Margot, had cornered Harry when Grace went to retrieve her coat. Once Harry was distracted, Jesse followed Grace out the door and down the sidewalk, what he didn’t expect was Aaron to be following him as well. She knew Aaron wouldn’t let Jesse get too far, but she was still scared when he grabbed her from behind and dragged her into a dark alley. He put a knife to her throat and whispered in her ear about how she was a disgrace, pathetic and powerless for cheating on her fictional husband. She almost grabbed her gun from her coat pocket, but she wasn’t expecting Harry to be the one pulling her away, holding her to his chest as Aaron grabbed Jesse and put him in cuffs. And even though Grace wanted to be the one to do it, she found in that moment, that she didn’t care. She was just glad they got there before he slit her throat.

She shakes the traumatic memory from her mind, pressing the heels of her hands into her eyes. Maybe it was just the heat, or maybe it was the fact that this case was almost too similar. Except now their new suspect was targeting young married couples. They don’t have much to go on yet, but they knew they needed to act quickly. Grace turns information over in her head, thinking, trying her hardest to come up with some idea. The first couple found was assumed to be a murder-suicide, until the next couple showed up a week later with the same exact MO. They know he forced them to have sex before he kills them, but he makes them wear a condom. To them, it makes no sense. The couples are married, and why would he make them wear a condom if he was just going to kill them? He’s in control of the entire situation, making them comfortable before shooting them at point-blank range after the husband “finishes”.

She combs through the information over and over, forcing her mind to find any new angle that she can come up with but she fails. She rubs her sweaty palms over her jeans and walks back towards the main area of the station. Gathered around a whiteboard, Harry and Aaron are discussing possible motives with a few officers. Harry mentions their last case, the sex club and asks them if there's anything like that around this area. An idea sparks in Grace’s mind, and she makes her way to them.

“What if it’s a swinger community?” She blurts out and they turn to look at her, Harry raising an eyebrow.

“Nothing we have suggests that.” Harry mutters and her nostrils flare, because of course he would be arguing with her. That’s what he does best.

“Nothing suggests another sex club either, jackass.” She snaps at him, crossing her arms over her chest defensively. “How would he get them to even agree to go anywhere with him unless they were already open to the idea of having a third?” Harry’s eyes travel down to the V in her shirt, giving him a view of her chest that’s speckled red from heat before he rakes them over the curve of her hips. His eyes flick back to her face studying the baby hairs stuck to her temple with sweat while she talks. His jaw ticks once and he turns back to the whiteboard.

“I don’t think it’s a stretch to assume that, Styles.” Aaron interjects, and Harry rolls his eyes, capping the marker he was holding and walking away. When no one shares his theories, he gets angry because he can’t piggyback onto them for defense. “I’m going to call Agent Morgan and Agent Jones, tell them to find out whatever they can about the swinger community in this area.” Grace nods, walking towards the door in hopes she can find any reprieve from the stuffy heat inside the station. Once outside, she leans against the building, running a hand over her forehead damp with sweat and swears under her breath. She could already tell it was going to be a long week.

—

By Wednesday, they were fed up. With the case, with the heat, and with each other. It was the hottest day of the week by far. They were shedding any layers they could while still maintaining modesty, but thankfully, the officers were understanding when they walked in to see the women in tanktops and the men with their buttons undone down their chests. They had it worse, and Grace felt sorry for them, always having to have a full uniform and heavy gear strapped to their belts. Grace flicks her gaze up from a file she was reading as Lieutenant Nathan Davis strides through the door of their conference room carrying a file. He smiles at her and she mirrors it back to him, everyone noticing that he’s taken a quick liking to her. Something she’s never been good at identifying.

“Hey, I think I have something here.” He says, laying the file of the most recent murder on the table before pulling over the one from the first. “Both husbands, they’re what one could consider “alphamales”. They go to the gym and work out relentlessly, they have high-power careers. People who knew them said they had kind of overbearing personalities.” He points out highlighted areas and Grace nods. Harry narrows his eyes.

“But they have no specific traits that make them similar. The women however…” He trails off, turning to look at the board with their pictures pinned up, and it was uncanny, the similarities between the two women. Once they noticed, an uneasy ambience settled over the room.

After a few hours, most of the team had checked out and gone to the hotel. The lieutenant was still in the conference room, sat next to Grace and attempting to make small talk while they worked. Harry’s eyes narrowed as he worked on the geographical profile, facing away from them as to not give away his expression.

“So, how's life in D.C? Is it as busy as everyone says it is?” Nathan asks her and she nods, eyebrows pulling together before she relaxes the muscle.

“It’s always busy. But it’s not so bad. I like it there, lots of history in that city. I’m into that sort of thing.” She answers as she highlights part of the coroner's report.

“I’ve been thinking about making a trip there. Maybe when I do we could get together.” He suggests and she grins.

“Oh for sure! I could show you the best museums.” She says, and looks back down at the report in front of her, not picking up on his flirting. Harry rolls his eyes, turning around to grab another push pin. He peeks up from his lashes, catching the way Nathan keeps flicking his eyes down to Graces lips, and the way he scoots his chair closer to her but she scoots away and creates a distance between them. He almost laughs, but covers it up with a cough causing the both of them to glance in his direction. He didn’t look up at them, instead turning to the board and putting the red pin in its rightful place, hiding his smirk from them.

—

Grace and Harry stayed at the station until the night dissipated into morning, the orange sun rising in the sky as the rest of their team made their way into the conference room. They relayed information, dismissing themselves to the hotel to get a few hours of sleep. Grace tried all night to have conversations with Harry but received one word responses or a cold shoulder in general and she was at her wits end by the time they were walking down the block towards the hotel.

They walked in silence, and Grace felt like she was running to keep up with Harry’s long strides, and it wouldn’t take an expert to see that he was tense. His expression was hardened and his fists were shoved deep into his pockets, eyes never straying from the path ahead of them. She swallows, opening her mouth to speak and before she can even get a word out he interrupts her.

“Don’t.” He warned, and her mouth snapped shut, looking down at the ground with a sigh.

“Noted.” she muttered under her breath, acknowledging he wasn’t in the mood to speak to her. She doesn’t know if he’s upset at her or frustrated with the case, but she decides on the latter because she can’t think of any reason why he would be angry at her.

They go their separate ways once they reach their floor, Harry going straight and Grace turning right off the elevator. She fumbles with the keycard, pushing the door open as soon as the light turns green and locking it behind her. She trudges to the bathroom, peeling off her clothes and taking the coldest shower she can stand, washing the sticky feeling sweat had left behind on her skin. Refreshed, she dresses into a more comfortable outfit and slips on a pair of shoes, deciding she was going to walk down the hallway and see if Harry wanted to get something to eat before they inevitably passed out from exhaustion.

She knocks once, and the door swings open. He’s standing there, towel wrapped around his hips with water dripping off the ends of his hair. He huffs, rolling his eyes and crossing his arms over his chest, the muscles in his arms popping at the position. She swallows the nervous lump in her throat as he stares at her, his gaze making her almost uncomfortable.

“I-I just wanted to check on you. It just seems like something is bothering you and I just wanted to see if—”

“See if what? If you could fix it?” He interrupts her, and she shakes her head in shock at his tone. “What if you’re what's bothering me? Then what, Grace?” He tilts his head, studying her, and it's almost condescending, the way he’s speaking to her.

“Whatever I did, I’m sorry, I don’t—”

“You think just because we fucked one time I’m going to be nice to you?” He stares at her with a hardened expression and she’s confused. She doesn’t understand the change in his mood, and he’s never spoken to her this way before. He stands there, looking down at her fiddling with her fingers and he almost caves. Almost. He needs to push her away, he doesn’t want her to get comfortable with him. The only way to do that is if he’s callous towards her so she’ll run away from him, then he’ll have his sanity back. Because the truth is terrifying to him, and since the moment he crashed his lips to hers in that club, the only thing he can think about is the way she tasted. They way she squeezed around his cock just right. The way she whimpered into his mouth when he thumbed over her clit. He’s craving her. But, he can’t face the feelings he has for her. He doesn’t want to admit that he was jealous watching Nathan flirt with her at the station…and Grace couldn’t tell he was wearing the mask that he’s become so comfortable behind.

“I just wanted to see if you were okay…and if you wanted to get breakfast since we were at the station all night…” Her voice trails off and she feels small under his patronizing stare, her eyes flicking down to her feet and the floor.

“You should go ask Lieutenant Nathan if he wants to get breakfast with you. The man already has a hard on for you and if you ask him he’ll probably cum in his pants.” He sneers and she snaps her head back up to him, he’s leaning against the doorframe, and she doesn’t know where this is even coming from.

“That’s what this is about?” She becomes defensive now, and she scoffs. “Are you jealous?” She laughs, a laugh laced with sarcasm and he grips his bicep, the muscle dimpling under his skin at the force. “That’s rich coming from you Harry, really. Just because a man is being nice doesn’t mean he’s flirting. And you have no right to be jealous even if he was.” Her breath is heavy with rage in her lungs, and his eyes flare with something she can’t quite pinpoint. She feels her cheeks redden from the anger taking over her conscience.

“You know, I don’t want to tiptoe around your feelings, Grace.” His voice is low, and her hands ball in fists at her sides. “You’re just…pathetic and helpless…like a little bunny.” The words come out before he can stop them, the same words Jesse used against her in that dark alley less than three weeks ago, and she visibly flinches, the fire in her eyes dying out. His flare for a moment longer before it dissipates and the reality of what he actually said hits him. His expression softens, and he reaches for her. She steps back, moving away from him like his touch would burn her. Her gaze hardens again, the heat behind her cheeks simmers.

“Fuck you, Harry.” The words fall from her lips, burning like venom and she storms away from him. Her steps come faster, and then she’s sprinting down the hall far, far away from him. No amount of distance feels like enough. The combination of tears falling down her cheeks and the wind from running cools her burning skin. Rounding the corner, she fumbles with her keycard as she reaches the door, her vision blurring making it hard to see the slot, but once she jams it in she throws the door open and shuts it behind her, leaning against it and sliding to the floor. She sobs, thinking of any reason why his words would affect her like this. He’s always been an asshole, always saying things to get under her skin…but none of them have ever hurt in this way.

Behind his door, Harry is pacing, running his hands through his hair and tugging at the root. He didn’t mean to let his anger take over, speaking for him in a moment like that. It was a terrible form of self-sabotage, the way he always let his emotions get the best of him. He wanted to go to her, apologize (something he never did), but he had a feeling he just fucked up any chance he had with her.

—

Grace had moved to the bed at some point, hugging her knees to her chest before she drifted into sleep. In her dreams, all she saw was the anger behind Jesse’s eyes when he grabbed her, her eyes close as Jesse gets close to her face, his words spitting from behind his lips, and when she opens them, it’s not Jesse holding her against the wall. It’s Harry.

She jolts awake, sitting up in the bed, pressing her fingers into her eyes to force the image of him away. She checks the time on her phone, jumping from the bed and throwing on an outfit that better suits her line of work. She straps her holster on her belt, walking out the door. She makes her way down the street to the station, going inside to find her team gathered in the conference room, minus Harry. She sighs with relief and finds a chair, joining in with conversation as Aaron informs them about new information pertaining to their case.

“We have found out that this man has to be married, there’s no way for him to get into the swinger parties without a partner. We don’t suspect the wife has anything to do with his crimes, or if she even knows he’s committing them.” Aaron pulls a chair out, sliding into it and his eyes move to movement coming through the doorway. Out her peripheral, Grace see’s Harry pull up a chair to the table.

“We want you to go undercover again, Grace.” He clears his throat once, and her eyes meet his. “You’re his type…as uncanny as that sounds.” Just like last time.

“Yeah, sure. Whatever.” she mutters, picking at her fingernails. Her mind wanders away from the conversation. Her teeth sunk into the skin of her lip, the metallic taste of her own blood meeting her tongue. She tried to stay out of her own mind, but it was hard when the only thing she thought about was if she would be in danger again. She feels Harry’s voice fading in through her thoughts as she forces her attention back to the conversation.

“...and I don’t think it’s a good idea for me and Grace to go undercover together again.” His eyes flick over to her momentarily before he looks back at Aaron.

“Well, I guess it could be—”

“I could do it.” A voice behind them speaks and they all turn to see Lieutenant Nathan standing in the doorway, holding a folder in his hands. “Sorry, I didn’t mean to interrupt. I just overheard the conversation. I’m willing to go in there, with Grace.” He looks at Harry once before going back to Aaron, then to Grace. “I’d just need a little bit of a rundown on what to do.” He says to her and she nods.

“Yeah. Yeah, of course.” She agreed. “I can give you the basics.” Her voice is low and he nods at her, and she stands, following him out the door.

Harry watches her go.

—

She’s nervous, she can’t deny it. Nathan holds her hand in his, fingers laced together as they stand in front of the mahogany door. He rings the doorbell, reminding himself of the backstory they decided on and straightens his posture. Grace fiddles with the earpiece tucked behind her hair, feeling like something is sticking out of place and poking her. She tries to ignore the feeling as she looks up at Nathan, waiting. The door opens and the hostess of the party smiles, making room for them to walk through the door. She introduces herself as Diana, and informs them of the rules for the night. She knows who they are and why they’re here, Aaron giving her a rundown when he called her into the station. She was sworn to secrecy, and more than willing to let them into her house to catch the man who was killing people she had considered friends.

She knew that Aaron and the rest of the team were set up down the road, sitting and waiting in their SUVs for the signal once the suspect was in their car with them and driving down the road to their secondary location. She felt a little bit of comfort knowing that they would arrest him before he even got the chance to hurt them, but she was still terrified after her situation with Jesse and she didn’t want to risk being put into another situation like that.

She felt Nathan's hand squeeze hers, silently reassuring her that he was here and he wouldn’t let anything happen to her…a stark contrast to the touch she received from Harry when they were in their similar situation. She was just thankful that she didn’t have to walk into this party wearing almost nothing. Her eyes flitted over the room of people, looking for anyone who fit their profile. He would be a little jittery, but nothing that would be noticeable to any unassuming person. He’s going to be someone people trust, someone who could easily lure them away. A familiar face in the crowd for the unsuspecting party goers.

Nathan rests his hand on the small of her back, pulling her to his side to show affection like a typical married couple would. He bends over, kissing her temple once and her cheeks heat from the gesture.

“You look really nice, by the way. I didn’t get to say that before we came in here.” He whispers in her ear and she looks up at him, giving him a small smile. She glances around the room once more, trying to put a face to their profile. She breathes in once, seeing a man chatting up a couple before his eyes glance around until they meet hers. A man with short, dark hair. About 5’7” in height. He takes a seat beside them on the couch, introducing himself as Steven Durst. He’s married to a woman named Billie, who’s also around the house somewhere he states. He doesn’t elaborate on much, only telling them he’s the manager of a hedge fund that deals with something outside of Grace’s realm of knowledge. She clocks his mannerisms, noticing the way his leg bounces up and down, and the way he chews on his lip. She notices his attention on her for the entirety of the conversation he’s having with Nathan.

She excuses herself to the bathroom, walking down the hall and slipping behind the safety of the door, locking it behind her.

“Aaron, I think we have our guy. Steven Durst.” She speaks quietly to him and her voice comes through the walkie he has in the cupholder between him and Harry. He relays the message to the police department, and they have a file on this guy in a matter of seconds. He looks over to Harry in the passenger seat, tense and looking out the window into the distance. His brows are furrowed together but he doesn’t say anything to him.

All Harry has heard for the past thirty minutes is Nathan complimenting and flirting with Grace and it’s making him resentful of a man he doesn’t even know. He’s staring at nothing, thinking about how he should be the one in there with her, he shouldn’t have backed down from the job when he was asked.

His thoughts race but he’s pulled from them when he hears the click of the gear shift as Aaron puts the car in drive. They follow the car that Grace is in with their suspect, and he swears he’ll kill this one if he even thinks of touching her. They drive for what feels like forever, keeping their distance a few cars back as they hear Steven Durst through the earpiece saying sinful things, things Harry could never think of and implicating himself. He feels his anger bubbling in his chest at the thought of this disgusting person saying these vile things to Grace. His Grace.

Whatever happens next is a blur to him. They pull into the parking spot beside Nathan’s car and Harry pulls Steven from the back seat before Steven can even get his gun from his waistband. He pulls it out for him, chucking it into the grass and putting the man in handcuffs. He pushes him over to Aaron, who takes hold of the chain between the locks and walks him to a police car. Grace walks away, going to the other car and not the one Harry came in and jumping in the backseat without so much as a glance in his direction. He drops his hands to his sides, defeated before getting back into the passenger seat and sitting in silence as they make their way back to their hotel.

—

Grace is brushing her teeth when she hears a loud banging on her door, and whoever it is sounds impatient as they persistently bang their fist against the metal. She looks at herself once in the mirror before going to look through the peephole. Standing on her tiptoes, she sees Harry standing there, unable to read his expression because his head is tilted towards the floor as he waits for her to open the door. She sighs heavily, debating on whether or not she should open it…but then he bangs his fist again and she’s had it.

“What the fuck do you want?” She sneers as she opens it and he doesn’t acknowledge her, just storms his way into her room right past her. She lets go of the door, allowing it to close as she follows him deeper into the room. She sees him standing with his back towards her. “Hello? You can’t just barge in here like—”

“You’re a real piece of work, Grace.” He laughs, but it's not one of humor. He turns to face her, and his pupils are blown. She knows that look. It’s the same look he gave her in that private room of the club. The one she saw when he was driving his cock into her deeper than anyone else has ever reached. And even though she’s still angry, she can’t help the heat that swirls in her chest and travels straight to her thighs.

“What now, Harry? Please enlighten me.” Her sarcasm has him shaking his head, running his tongue over his bottom row of teeth before he answers.

“Think I liked listening to that fucker flirt with you all night? Trying to win you over with a cheesiness that would make any sane person cringe.” He states and she narrows her eyes at him.

“Aaron asked you if you would—”

“No. You were pissed at me, and that would’ve given us away too quickly.” He interrupts and she rolls her eyes.

“Okay, then you have no reason to be mad when you declined the offer.” She crosses her arms, and his eyes trail over her body. Her shirt that was oversized and dropped just down to her thighs, thighs he wanted wrapped around his waist more than anything else. “For the record, I’m still pissed. Now leave.” She points to the door and he smirks.

“Do you really want me to though?” He slowly closes the distance between them, and she retreats away until her back meets the wall. He cages her head between his arms, head dipping to her line of vision. His lips are so close that she could pucker and they would touch. She keeps them in a thin line, not wanting to give away her guise. He nudges her nose with his. “He’s not me.”

“Maybe that’s what I like about him.” Her words come out breathless, her voice betraying her. Her lips brush his as she speaks and he hums.

“Y’know…ever since Seattle, can’t stop thinking of the little noises you make, the way you squeeze around me when you cum. The feeling of your fingers twisting in my hair…You ruined me for anyone else, bunny.” He mutters and she whimpers, her eyes fluttering closed. He pulls away. “But, call Nathan. Tell him to come fuck you.” He drops his arms, moving towards the door but she grabs his bicep before he can get too far.

“No. Want you.” She assures him and he surges forward, lips crashing into hers as he captures her face in his hands. And it’s blissful, the way his tongue dances with hers. She whimpers again into his mouth as he fists the hair at the nape of her neck. He trails his hands down her body, tapping her hips once and she jumps, he catches her on the back of her thighs as she wraps her legs around his waist. He carries to the bed, the kiss never faltering. She wraps her arms around the back of his neck as he lays her down. He pulls away momentarily as he pushes her shirt up, exposing her body to him and he lets out a groan, his head dropping to her chest as he pulls the shirt over her head. He wants nothing more than to taste her and have her squirming and shaking just from his tongue lapping at her. She watches him admiring her body, knowing he’s just taking her time to make her beg, make her needy like he wanted her to be the first time.

The heat between her thighs grows and he drops to his knees at the edge of the bed, hooking his arms under her thighs and pulling her to the edge of the bed. He drags his lips lightly up the skin of her inner thighs before his hot breath blows over her clit and makes her buck her hips upwards towards him. She whines and he backs away, creating distance.

“Let me take my time, Grace.” His voice is sweet and honeyed, making her breath catch in her throat. She almost argues, but before she can get a word out his tongue drags through her folds and flicks her clit and she lets out a moan so loud her neighbors would think she’s watching porn. He hums with satisfaction as his mouth closes around her and the vibrations send waves of pleasure straight down her spine.

“Taste so sweet, bunny. Never gonna be able to give you up.” He mutters against her and her hands find his hair, grabbing and fisting as she pulls his head back to her. He licks and sucks at her clit, eating her like a man starved and his name falls from her lips between moans over and over, bringing her closer to release. She glances down as his eyes come up to look at her. He smirks and lets his eyes flutter closed, getting lost in her and she doesn’t think she can hold on any longer.

“H-harry. Gonna cum.” She breathes out and her chest heaves as her breaths become labored.

“I know, sweet girl. Let go for me.” His encouraging words mixed with him pushing two fingers into her is all it takes. He pumps his fingers, hooking and curling finding just the right spot, and she tumbles over the ledge, crying his name over and over as he works her through it. He comes back up to her, kissing her and tasting herself on his tongue is the most erotic she’s ever felt.

“Please.” She begs against his lips and he doesn’t waste any time pulling his heavy cock out of his pants and stripping his shirt off his torso. Her nails rake down his chest and he pumps once with his hand before lining up with her entrance, dragging the head of his cock through her arousal. He pushes in slowly, dropping his head to her shoulder as he groans. He stills once he’s fully inside her, allowing her to adjust to him. She grips onto his biceps as he pulls out to the tip and slowly goes back in. He moans against her skin, sinking his teeth into her shoulder and her eyes flutter closed, feeling every ridge and every vein. He brings his forehead to meet hers, lips enveloping hers as he pushes in and pulls out, and she knows he's holding back.

“More. Please.” She whines against his mouth and he fulfills her request, picking up his pace as he sits up, pulling her legs over his shoulders and somehow he hits deeper than he already has. She cries out again, bringing her hand to her mouth to stifle her moans of pleasure. He grabs her wrist, pulling her hand away and shakes his head.

“No. Wanna hear those pretty noises, bunny.” His voice is low and breathy, hips smacking against hers and her eyes flutter closed. He doesn’t relent, keeping his pace and trailing his thumb over her open lips before pressing it against her tongue. She wraps her lips around it, pulling it further into her mouth and swirling her tongue around it. He groans, the image of her on her knees and taking him down her throat on his mind.

“Nobody but me, Grace. Nobody can fuck you like I do.” He says between gritted teeth and she looks up at him with round eyes, his thumb pulling her jaw open and she whines. “You’re mine.” She nods.

“Yours. Only yours.” She says between breaths. His movements begin to falter at her willingness to comply with his words.

“Fuck.” he curses under his breath, letting her legs fall from his shoulder and bending over her as he drives into her. She clenches around him, willing him to come inside her again, craving the feeling it left her with. “Such a good girl.” He mutters against the valley between her breasts. His tongue darts out, licking a stripe up to her neck and pulling her skin between his teeth. His hand comes between their bodies and he presses his thumb against her already sensitive bud. Her hips buck against his hand, and he rubs small circles with light pressure.

“One more, bunny. Need you to give me one more. Know you can.” His movements grow sloppy and her eyes squeeze shut and pleasure sends her brain into a frenzy. The coil snaps and she’s a mess of whining and moaning his name over and over. He follows her as she squeezes around him, his cock twitching as he releases and he holds himself up on wobbly arms.

They lay there for a few minutes, catching their breath and he strokes his thumb over her temple and pushes her hair away from her face. She smiles at him, dazed from the high she’s still coming down from. Their hearts pound in synchrony behind their ribs and he pulls out of her, leaving her feeling empty.

He rolls onto his back beside her, pulling her to his side and holding her for a moment, something he didn’t get to do after the first time, and it was something he thought about every day since then, wanting to shower her with affection afterwards. He nudges her forehead with his nose and he brings his lips to plant a light kiss on the bridge of her nose.

“Only you, Grace.” He says and she smiles. “Only you.”

#harry styles #harry styles fanfiction #harry #styles #fic #harry styles x fmc #harry styles smut #harry fic #harry styles fic #harry styles au #harry styles fluff #harry styles blurb #harry styles x oc #harry styles blurbs #harry edward styles #agent!fmc #agent!harry #little bunny #only you

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ickadori · 15 days

Text

[cws] fem reader. violence -> sukuna beats up a coworker for you lol. fade to black noncon oral.

Thud.

The dull sound of steel toed boots knocking against your wooden apartment floors come to a stop outside of your bedroom door. Your fingers pause over your keyboard as your stomach does a lurch, heart-rate quickening just a bit, and you save the essay you had been working on and close the lid of your Macbook.

“Ry..” Your voice dies out halfway through the call of his name, and you try again, getting no answer in return—no verbal one at least. The knob gives a quick turn and you flinch, and then there’s another thud, this one a bit lighter — a small thump of his boot against the door to push it open.

And there he is.

“Ryomen.”

“You left your front door open again.” His voice is rough, a slight drawl to it, almost lazy-like. “I told you about that.”

“Sorry, I forgot.” A crazy concept considering you’re a young woman living on your own, but you’ve had a lot on your mind the past few days, and your own safety was the last thing on your mind. Besides, Sukuna had showed his face around your complex a few times, and that was enough to deter most people from even looking in your direction for fear of getting his unwanted attention.

He chuffs and enters your room.

You look behind him to the darkly colored, boot-shaped spots that he’s left behind in his wake, and your teeth worry at your lip as you think about all the scrubbing you’ll have to do. He follows your gaze, head turning and angling down, and he clicks his tongue.

“What a mess.” He snickers, and you firmly press your lips together as he continues on, his steps slower this time, smaller, boots now leaving behind double the footprints because of his adjusted pace. What an asshole.

Now that he’s closer, you can make out the dark splatters of something on his jeans, along with the blooming bruises on his knuckles. The balls of your feet rest on the base of your desk chair, and you smooth your hands down the length of your thighs.

“Is it—are they…?” You trail off, not wanting to just outright ask it. You never liked to say it out loud after it was all said and done, yet you had never once struggled to get the words out whenever you first went to him, skin hot with anger and eyes sparkling with rage as you begged -demanded- that he do something about whoever it was that had managed to work you up so badly.

“Are they ‘dealt with’, as you so tenderly put it over the phone?” He finishes your question, fingers moving to lift the lid of your Macbook open. It hasn’t been closed long enough to require your password, and the black screens quickly flickers back on to display your half finished essay. “What’s this?”

“An assignment.” His finger makes a feint to tap at the delete button, and you yelp and quickly grab ahold of his hand with both of yours. “Please don’t do that.” The corner of his mouth quirks up as his eyes pointedly look at how you’re grabbing him, and you quickly let him go, thoughts of what those hands had likely did just a little while ago springing forth.

“I put ‘em in the hospital - nothing that’ll kill her, can’t say the same for her baby though.” Your stomach instantly sours, and a gasp forces its way out of your throat as you stare up at him with wide eyes.

“Baby?” You croak. “She was pre—” You can’t finish the sentence, a lump instantly forming in your throat as tears begin to blur your vision.

“Nah, I’m just fucking with you.” Sukuna barks out a laugh and you pause, expression still fixed into one of abject horror. “Or maybe she was, who knows—‘s not like I gave the bitch a pregnancy test before I broke her jaw.”

“Okay, enough.” You stress, fearing that you’d dirty the rug underneath your feet with stomach acid if he didn’t stop talking soon. While you may have envisioned all the ways he would deal with your bitch of a coworker two days ago, your argument with the outspoken women still fresh in your mind, you were calmer now, reasonable, not hellbent on revenge and willing to make a deal with the devil incarnate to see it exacted.

You thought he’d scare her a little -it wouldn’t have taken much, just a quick flash of his impossibly sharp canines and the sight of those black lines marring his otherwise handsome face would have done the trick-, maybe just toss her around a bit and take her wallet, call her a few names and send her on her sad way.

“Don’t get all mushy now. This was your idea, remember? You called me.” He looks over the trinkets on your desk, touching things here and there and invading your personal space all the while. You breathe in and catch a whiff of your coworkers signature perfume on his jacket, a scent that you had grown to hate, and you scramble to get out of your seat, only for a heavy hand to push down on your shoulder and keep you in place.

You make a noise of confusion and look up at him, but he doesn’t bother glancing at you, suddenly engrossed in the sight of a tattered, mini plushie that you had received as a gift years ago as a child.

“Where are you trying to run off to?”

“I—your money. I-I was going to pay you, for…you know…like I usually do.” His hand slips from your shoulder to the front of your neck and you suck in a sharp breath through your nose, watching as he finally looks down his nose at you, his lips twisted in that ever present smirk.

“I never asked for your money.” You frown, fingers twitching to push his hand away from you, but you curl them into your palm and keep them on your thighs.

“But you said—” His hand tightens around your throat just a bit, and your hands fly up on instinct to grab ahold of his wrist.

“I said you’d have to pay me, yeah.” He sighs out through his nose. “Never said how you’d pay me though, now did I?” His hand that isn’t squeezing at your neck suddenly fists your hair at the root and harshly tugs it back, the pained noise you make quickly being choked down. He looms over you, and Gods, has he always been this terrifying? You had always been wary of him despite Yuji’s never ending defense of his older brother.

“He’s not a bad guy, baby, I swear. He just got mixed up in some stuff when he was younger and did a few years.”

“He’s not mean, he’s just…well, I guess he is mean. But he’s not that mean!”

“He actually likes you, believe it or not…yes, I know he keyed your car but it was only because you double parked in the driveway and he thought it was Megumi.”

A rough thumb brushes across your bottom lip, and you’ve known enough men to know the look he’s giving you. You bristle, and he subdues it with a squeeze that leaves you coughing and pushing at his stomach. He takes the opportunity to push two fingers, pointer and middle, into your mouth, and you gag when a metallic taste hits your tongue, eyes widening and feet moving to kick at his shins.

“I’ve been wondering how it’d feel to have my cock in here,” he squeezes again, fingers pushing a bit deeper, “wondering if you’re as good as Yuji says you are.” You shove at him harder, and just when you build up enough courage to snap your teeth down against his fingers, he pulls his hand back from your mouth. You suck in a gasp of air at the short reprieve, only to lose your breath once again when his hand moves to his buckle.

“Let’s see if you can take it.”

#sukuna x reader #i #do not like this piece it was torture writing it but m gonna post it anyways bc i’m that guy!!

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generalllimaginesss · 4 months

Note

https://www.tumblr.com/generalllimaginesss/737276766654185472/how-many-pick-up-lines-will-it-take-to-get-you-to

what if she starts flirting back and gets him all flustered

I was going to work on a some different things, but I kept getting this request so we’re gonna roll with it :)) thank you for requesting!! Part 1 is here.

also....3 goals in 1:09 seconds....wtf devils???

••

"Dude, you can't keep hitting on my sister. She's not interested, man," Your brother and Jack were messing around on the outdoor rink that was set up in the backyard.

"I know, I know," Jack sighed passing the puck to your brother.

"Do you though? It's been 16 years and you're still going at it with her," Your brother's eyebrows raised as he shot at the goal, the puck ricocheting off of the top bar.

Jack rolled his eyes, snatching the rebound and attempting his own shot. He made it, watching as his friend was getting off the ice. Jack joined slowly.

"I think if she got over herself and actually gave me a chance she'd be surprised," Jack caught a glimpse of you watching them from your bedroom window. He waved at you, but you responded with a middle finger as you closed the blinds.

"Maybe, but she hasn't for this long, so maybe you should chill," Your brother couldn't care less if Jack dated you, but the constant flirting was aggravating sometimes.

"Maybe," Jack mumbled, batting off the snow that had accumulated on his hoodie before walking inside.

The boys made their way to the living room, grabbing a couple of blankets to help warm them up from the cold. Your brother had put on a random football game, basically for background noise as he began to doze off.

Jack busied himself until he heard footsteps coming down the stairs followed by your appearance as you walked into the kitchen. He watched you quietly, taking in the details of you. You had stolen your brother's sweatshirt, wearing it with a pair of leggings and fuzzy socks.

"Hughes, I know I'm hot, but you're staring is creepy," You said, nonchalantly, pouring a glass of water before turning around. You faced Jack, his smile greeting you.

"I like a self-aware woman," He commented, the blush that rushed your face adding fuel to his fire.

You leaned on the island, forearms flat on the cool counter, the wrinkles on your forehead evident from trying to figure the boy out. He was cute, you'd give him that, but you were never into hockey guys. The more you thought about it, it wasn't anything personal with Jack. He had never done anything to make you hate him, you just didn't let yourself like him.

"Now look who's staring," Jack smirked, the tension from the eye contact between the two of you could be cut with a knife.

What the hell...the house was a little boring, it could use something to make it more interesting with Jack here.

You glanced over at your brother, making sure that he was dead asleep before you had your fun with Jack. His mouth was open and drool was threatening to spill over, so it was safe to say that you were safe from there being witnesses to what was about to go down.

"Maybe I like what I see," Your voice was darker than normal, dripping with sultry as you walked around the counter towards Jack.

His eyes were wide, looking around him to make sure there wasn't anybody else around that you might have been talking to.

"Don't worry, I'm talking to you," You assured him, pulling the blanket off of him as you sat on his lap.

He had many dreams about you, but he had never imagined something like this actually happening. His throat was dry, lips parted as he tried to get over the shock of the situation.

"What's wrong, Jack?" You wrapped your arms around him, your lips inching near his ear, "...cat got your tongue?"

"What are you doing?" His voice was hoarse, the nerves coursing through his body constricting his vocal cords. He could feel goosebumps rise on his arms as you placed a set of kisses down his neck.

Your lips broke contact with the delicate skin on his neck, bringing your face inches away from his. His face was beet red, his usual flirty self long gone as you had taken control.

"You know, I have some pick up lines," Your voice was barely a whisper as you kissed closer and closer to Jack's lips. The teasing was driving him insane. If it wasn't for the shock of your actions, he probably would have taken advantage of the situation. However, the shock prevented him from doing anything, freezing him as you had fun with him.

"Yeah?" He croaked, your lips headed back toward his neck and close to his ear again.

"Is that a candy cane in your pocket, or are you just excited to see me?"

Jack was breathing hard, probably the reason your brother was beginning to stir awake. Before he could see what was unfolding, you had removed yourself from Jack's lap, watching as he scrambled for the blanket to cover himself before your brother could see the product of your fun.

You could feel the daggers from Jack's glare as you walked back to the kitchen, grabbing a banana and beginning to peel and eat it.

There was no way Jack was letting this slide. What was once playful flirting had just turned into an all out war. He sure as hell wasn't letting you win the game that he had mastered.

Your brother was awake, scrolling through his phone, unaware of what just happened.

Jack's eyes were dark as he stared at you, you staring right back at him.

"Later," He mouthed, preventing your brother from hearing.

You smiled, holding in your chuckle as you walked away, but not before looking him in the eyes and giving him a wink.

"We'll see," Your smirk burned into the back of his eyes.

16 years of going after this damn girl and she just randomly decides to pull this stunt? And all he could do was just sit there and take it? No way was he going to let her gain the upper hand over him...

#nhl imagine #nhl fic #jack hughes #nhl fanfiction #quinn hughes #trevor zegras #alex turcotte #cole caufield #jack hughes imagines #nico hischier #jack hughes x reader #jack hughes imagine #jack hughes blurb #we thinking about a part 3 or what???

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xomakara · 2 months

Text

Forever Only

SUMMARY | Jaehyun comes home to find you getting off on his bed. PAIRING | Jaehyun/Reader GENRE | smut with no plot, protected sex (wrap it up everyone!), oral sex, masturbation, sex toy (vibrator), general perversion RATING | Mature LENGTH | 4,034 words AUTHOR’S NOTE | Sorry about the lack of stories/fics. Feb so far has been busy for me. But here is a Jaehyun birthday story/fic to satisfy Valentine’s Day. Happy Love Day to all my couples and single people out there!

I'll also be writing the other Feb. birthday members soon. Some of them will be late but better than never, right?

This was originally written for another member but I changed it. So to whoever read it/liked it before, sorry about taking it down. Someone wasn’t too happy about my original choice of member.

“I'm home!" Jaehyun called out as he stepped into his apartment, which was decorated in rich, warm colors and tastefully done furniture. It was awfully quiet inside though. He could hear the TV in the living room but no voices. "Where is everyone?"

Jaehyun walked around the apartment to look for the other members. As he opened each bedroom door, he was met with no members. Did they all have schedules or something? Shaking his head, he headed towards his room, only to notice that his door was wide open.

And someone was writhing on his bed, moaning loudly.

Jaehyun leaned against his doorframe, a soft smile of amusement on his face as he watched the cute sight before him. The woman on his bed had her eyes closed, head thrown back against the pillows, her cheeks flushed red from whatever it was she was doing. And she wasn't wearing any clothes.

A tight smile appeared on the man's lips as he finally understood what was happening.

The girl made an odd noise in the back of her throat, mumbling Jaehyun's name, her fingers holding something tightly. His eyes narrowed slightly when he realized what she was holding. A vibrator. One she was now pressing between her legs, making sounds that were becoming more guttural by the second.

"Come on, come for me." Her voice was low and husky, laced with lust and heat. "Fuck, Jaehyun."

Jaehyun couldn't help but watch her. Who knew that Johnny’s little sister thought of him that way? Who knew that he'd even inspire such thoughts? He honestly didn't know if he should feel flattered or creeped out right now. But there was one thing that was very clear: The girl was insanely hot, and seeing her like this was making his dick throb. God, did she know how sexy she looked?

He watched as you plunged the vibrator inside yourself, making that moaning sound again. You pulled it out for a few seconds before plunging it back in. Then another, and another. Slowly at first, but building up to faster movements. You were obviously close. Very close. Jaehyun just had to make sure you got off.

You went still for a few moments after climaxing, catching your breath as your muscles contracted around the vibrator and sent waves of pleasure throughout your body.

"So that's what you think of me, huh?" Jaehyun finally spoke, unable to keep silent anymore.

"Jaehyun!" You opened your eyes, shock on your face as you grabbed one of the covers to cover yourself. "When did you get home? Did you see everything? Oh my god, I'm so embarrassed."

"Why are you covering yourself up? Don't be embarrassed." Jaehyun sat down next to you, running his hand through your hair gently. "Y/N, is this how you really think of me? Like this?"

You peered at him through your fingers, your breathing still heavy and irregular. Your blush gave you away, your cheeks flaming red. You tried not to give into his charm, but deep down, you liked the way he talked to you. You always had, even if you'd never admit it aloud.

"You saw nothing, Jaehyun. Nothing." You muttered as you tried to reach for your clothes that were on the ground. "If you tell my brother anything, I will punch you in your sleep."

"You would never punch me. Not if you feel this way towards me." Jaehyun laughed and scooped up your clothes, handing them over to you. Jaehyun reached out to grab your chin, tilting your head upwards to look at him properly. You held your breath, anticipation coursing through your veins.

"How do you feel towards me?" You asked, swinging your legs as you stood up so that you can put your clothes on.

"Oh, I don't know…" Jaehyun trailed off.

"Is it… bad?" You bit your lip, not wanting to let on just yet. You needed to gauge where he was at before letting him know just how much you felt for him.

"No." Jaehyun smiled and placed his hands on either side of you, bringing your body closer to his. "It's a good feeling."

"Oh?" You couldn't help but smile back at him, relieved. "That makes two of us then."

There was a moment of silence between the two of you before you decided to change the subject.

"Well… I think my brother and the others might be home soon." You coughed. "I wanted to surprise everyone but when I got here, no one was here but Johnny. He told me to wait while he stepped out to do something. So I waited for him and he ended up taking forever."

"So then you wandered around the place and into my bedroom?" Jaehyun asked, eyebrows raised in amusement.

"I guess you could say that." You laughed nervously. "I'm still so embarrassed that you caught me getting off on your bed... like this..."

"It's okay, Y/N." Jaehyun said, a smile on his lips. "You were having fun, right? Well you seemed to be enjoying yourself too. At least judging by those moans you were making."

Your cheeks burned even more than before as you nodded. Just because he didn't say it didn't mean he hadn't seen it. There was no denying what he'd just witnessed.

"Why don't we go to the kitchen? I bet you're hungry after that activity." Jaehyun suggested.

"Good idea." You agreed. "My brother probably has some snacks or something ready."

As the two of you walked to the kitchen, Jaehyun kept glancing at you every once in a while. You could tell he was waiting for you to say something. But you were reluctant. Maybe you should just drop the bomb. After all, he did just see you getting off on his bed, thinking about him.

You followed him into the kitchen and plopped down on a chair, making yourself comfortable. Jaehyun handed you a glass filled with water and sat down across from you.

"What's wrong?" Jaehyun asked as he stared at you.

"I..." You sighed heavily. "This isn't easy for me, Jaehyun."

"Tell me." Jaehyun said, leaning forward in his seat. "Please, tell me why you're so hesitant to tell me."

"Because I don't know how you'll react to it." You answered quietly.

"Then maybe you shouldn't tell me." Jaehyun replied evenly.

Your brows furrowed in confusion. Wasn't he supposed to be encouraging you to tell him? This whole situation was starting to make less sense the longer you talked about it. "Wait, how am I supposed to know how you'll react to this if I don't say anything?!"

"Trust me." Jaehyun grinned, reaching out to take your hand. "Everything will work out fine. I promise."

Just as you were about to respond to his reassuring words, Johnny opened the door and stared at yours and Jaehyun's hands. He stepped into the kitchen, the other members trailing behind. Johnny nodded at your hands before looking at you. "So did you finally confess your feelings?"

You looked at your brother before throwing a napkin at him. "You knew all along?! Is that why you left me here all this time since you knew Jaehyun was coming home?"

Johnny let out a little laugh. "I was just trying to help you out. Did it work? Have you confessed yet?"

"Not yet." You groaned. "And don't ask me about this again until after dinner! Okay?"

"Okay, I'll behave." Johnny pouted and turned to Jaehyun. "I'll leave you two alone now."

You watched as Johnny ushered the other members towards the living room, Haechan trying to stay behind so that he could eavesdrop on his hyung’s conversation with you. Once he was gone, Jaehyun looked back at you and flashed you a small smile.

You bit your bottom lip. "Yeah… I guess Johnny ruined it. Jaehyun, I like you. A lot." You took a deep breath, anxiety eating away at you as you admitted these things out loud.

"I know that." Jaehyun's expression changed instantly, his smile growing wider. He leaned close to you, his lips right by your ear so that the others wouldn't hear. "Otherwise I wouldn't have caught you in my bedroom. Would I?"

His voice dropped lower, a devilish gleam appearing in his dark brown eyes. "Do you want to kiss me, Y/N?"

Jaehyun moved his lips towards yours. They were moving slowly, so slowly. You could barely move your own lips at all. Every part of you wanted to touch him, run your fingers through his thick black hair, press your body against his. But you couldn't do any of those things because of Johnny. Or the other members who were undoubtedly listening in.

You instead entwined your fingers with his, gripping his hand tightly as you placed your other hand on top of his. Neither of you made any move to break apart, continuing to stare into each other's eyes. You couldn't believe how easily Jaehyun controlled you. How attracted you were to him.

Jaehyun's lips were just a hair breath away from yours before you heard a cough interrupting you both. Your heart raced as you snapped your head towards the source of the interruption. It was Johnny, standing in front of the open refrigerator, staring at the contents inside.

You rolled your eyes and threw a piece of bread at your brother, who easily dodged it. "Shut up, Johnny."

The others laughed as Johnny snatched a sandwich and began to eat it, crumbs falling onto the floor.

"So...uhm...did I interrupt something?" Johnny asked. "I heard some moaning earlier but I didn't know if it was yours or mine because this sandwich is delicious."

You shot a death glare at your brother, who only continued to laugh at your angry expression. Jaehyun shook his head, clearly amused at your behavior.

"You're so annoying." You huffed, sticking your tongue out at him. Johnny laughed before leaving the kitchen. You slumped in your seat and buried your face in your hands.

Jaehyun laughed as he placed his hand on your shoulder. "Are you alright?"

"Maybe I shouldn't have done that." You whispered, embarrassment evident in your voice.

"You wanted to tell me, right?" Jaehyun asked, smiling. "And besides, I like you too, Y/N. Now come on, we've got company."

You got up from your seat and followed Jaehyun out of the kitchen. The other members were still in the living room, discussing something about their upcoming music video. Jaehyun sat down on the couch, patting the spot beside him. You quickly obliged, sitting down beside him and intertwining your fingers together.

"So the lovely couple has decided to grace us with their presence." Taeyong commented, cracking a cheesy grin. "You two are finally a couple, right?"

Jaehyun pulled you closer to him, placing a soft kiss on your forehead. "Yeah, you could say that."

Everyone erupted into laughter and clapped at the same time.

"You guys are ridiculous." You grumbled, slapping at Jaehyun's arm.

“Hey, just in time for the festivities!” Jungwoo grinned. “Guess you’re not spending your birthday and Valentine’s Day alone now, huh Jaehyun-hyung?”

"We're just happy for you, Y/N." Doyoung said, looking at Johnny. "Your brother was getting fed up with you and your puppy eyes whenever you looked at Jaehyun. We're glad you finally made your move."

Jaehyun nudged you playfully. "Don't worry about your brother. If anyone would tell you how they feel, it'd be him."

Mark sighed. "I really thought Johnny was going to burst a blood vessel from rolling his eyes at you so many times."

You couldn't help but giggle as everyone shared their opinions about you and Jaehyun.

After talking for a few minutes, Jaehyun stood up and stretched his arms above his head. "Hey, guys, I'm gonna go use the bathroom. I'll be back."

You all watched as Jaehyun closed the bathroom door behind him. You could feel eyes burning into your back and when you turned to look at them, they all spoke at once.

"If you guys say something stupid, I will punch you in your sleep." You warned, poking their chests with your finger.

They only laughed harder at your threatening statement.

"So does he know that you think of him when you―" Mark stopped mid-sentence when he noticed the look on your face. "Never mind, forget I said anything."

"Oh?" Taeil muttered as he looked between the two of you. "It must be something spicy if you gave Mark that look. Do you guys wanna share?"

"No! It's nothing!" You exclaimed, shaking your head furiously.

Yuta laughed, wiggling his eyebrows. "It's something sexy, huh? Did you get off thinking of Jaehyun?"

Mark started laughing hysterically as Johnny plugged his ears. "Yo, I don't want to hear of my sister's sexual activities!"

You glared at Yuta, throwing a pillow at him. "You guys are so annoying! Can you please not talk about this stuff anymore?"

"That's why we love you, Y/N." Yuta said, pointing at himself and scratching his chest suggestively. "Sexy."

"Shut up." You mumbled, hiding your face in your hands. You were glad they weren't home when you were masturbating. The images would have been way too humiliating to explain to them. It was bad enough that Jaehyun, the object of your affection, had witnessed it first hand.

"Ohhhh, Y/N," Haechan chuckled. "Didn't know you were like that. Do you have sex dreams about him too?"

You covered your ears. "I'm not listening to any of you! Leave me alone!"

"Aw, come on, Y/N." Taeyong cooed, placing his arm around your shoulders. "There's nothing to be ashamed of."

You punched Taeyong’s arm, making him groan in shock. Taeil let out a laugh. "Geez, Y/N, we're only joking. You can tell us. I bet we've all had those kinds of fantasies at least once."

A blush rose to your cheeks as you tried to come up with an excuse to get away from everyone. But there was no way you were admitting this to them. You glanced over your shoulder, sighing in relief when you saw Jaehyun coming back to the living room.

He smiled widely when he saw you. "Did you miss me?"

You frowned at him, before tugging on his sleeve. He leaned down so that you could whisper in his ear. "Jaehyun, can we go back to my place?"

Jaehyun looked at you with wide eyes. "Are you sure? I don't want Johnny―"

"My brother can go screw himself, for all I care." You scoffed, Johnny and the others laughing hysterically.

Yuta swung an arm around Jaehyun's shoulder. "Don't come back home tonight. Just spend the night with her."

Jaehyun's cheeks grew pink and he shrugged off Yuta’s hold. He looked at you. "You sure?"

You nodded before standing on your toes to whisper in his ears. "We can pick up where I left off in your bedroom."

Jaehyun gulped audibly, shooting you a worried glance. You giggled before grabbing his hand and dragging him towards the hallway and yelled out your goodbyes to the others.

By the time you reached your place, you had forgotten about everything else that happened earlier that day. There was only one thing on your mind; how badly you wanted to see Jaehyun naked.

You unlocked the door to your apartment, Jaehyun following closely behind you. You kicked your shoes off as soon as you entered the main area, turning towards Jaehyun to wrap your arms around his waist.

"Y/N..." Jaehyun said softly as you pressed yourself up against him. His eyes fluttered shut as you traced his neckline with your tongue. You nibbled at his skin, tracing your tongue across his collarbone before gently kissing the hollow of his throat. Jaehyun shivered slightly as you lightly licked the edge of his ear.

"Do you want me to make you feel good?" You asked, running your hands along his body. "Make you forget about everything else except me?"

"Yes..." Jaehyun replied, leaning forward to nip at your lower lip. You pulled away from him and yanked his shirt off, exposing his smooth skin underneath. You pushed him down onto the couch and straddled his lap, grinding against his hard cock.

"What should I do with you, Y/N?" Jaehyun breathed, placing his hands on your hips.

"Anything you want." You answered, kissing his jawline. You kissed your way down his neck, sucking on his earlobe and sending shivers throughout his body.

Jaehyun moaned in response, gripping your ass tightly.

You let out a frustrated cry as Jaehyun pushed your dress up, revealing your lace panties. Jaehyun sucked in a sharp breath, dropping his hands onto your waist to grip your sides. He ran his thumb along your panties, enjoying the slight friction created by your clothing.

"Tell me what you want, Y/N." Jaehyun commanded, pinching the elastic band of your underwear.

"Touch me." You breathed. "Please touch me."

Jaehyun slowly peeled your panties down, sliding them off your legs and tossing them aside. He swallowed loudly, eyeing your pussy with desire. "So pretty."

You nodded eagerly, wrapping your arms around his neck. "More."

"You have no idea how much I want you right now." Jaehyun confessed, lifting you off his lap. You wrapped your legs around his waist as he walked towards the bedroom. He laid you down on the bed, leaning down to run his tongue along your neck. "But I don't want to rush things, Y/N."

You pulled his hair, making him yelp. "Hurry and get rid of your clothes, Jaehyun. Take off mines too."

"Okay..." Jaehyun agreed, kissing his way down your chest. As he made his way down, his fingers expertly removed your clothes until you were completely naked. You whimpered as he traced his fingers along your inner thighs, admiring the view in front of you.

"How long has it been since someone did this to you?" Jaehyun asked, tracing his tongue up your stomach. "Too long, isn't it?"

"Mmhmm." You murmured, closing your eyes. "Please... Jaehyun..."

"Hmm?"

"Kiss me." You begged, raising your knees towards his face.

Jaehyun complied without hesitation, spreading your legs apart and licking your swollen clit. You gasped, raising your hips towards his mouth. Your body tensed, moaning in pleasure. You felt a warm liquid spread between your legs as Jaehyun teased you with his tongue.

"Fuck, this feels better than a vibrator. This is amazing." You panted, panting heavily as Jaehyun kissed his way up your body. When he reached your lips, he buried his face in your mouth, gently biting at your bottom lip.

His tongue darted inside your mouth, causing you to moan deeply as you wrapped your arms around his neck. You broke the kiss to speak, only to gasp again when he began sucking on your nipples.

"Jaehyun... oh god... it feels so good..."

Jaehyun growled against your breast, pulling on your nipple. "Keep saying that, Y/N, and I won't stop."

You moaned in pleasure as he sucked your other nipple, releasing another flood of juices between your legs.

When you opened your eyes, you found Jaehyun smiling down at you. His pupils were dilated and you knew exactly what he wanted from you. You grabbed a condom from the drawer next to your bed and slid it on. When you pushed Jaehyun down on his back, you crawled on top of him.

"Don't tease me, Y/N." Jaehyun groaned, grabbing both of your asscheeks. "Give me what I want."

You grinned down at him, lowering yourself onto his hard cock. You gasped as you took him deep inside of you, feeling every inch of him inside of you. Jaehyun bit his lip as you ground against his dick, meeting each thrust with your own.

"Y/N..." Jaehyun panted, cupping your breasts roughly. "This feels incredible."

You moaned, burying your face in his neck as you rode him. His hands quickly went to your hips, guiding you through your movements. Your breathing was labored and your heart raced as you pushed yourself up and down, taking Jaehyun deeper and deeper with each stroke.

The pressure inside of you built up and you bit down on your lip to keep from screaming out. Your nails dug into Jaehyun's chest, the strength behind each movement increasing. You couldn't help but smile when you felt his hands tightened around your waist. You could feel the tension building up within him, feeling like you were pushing him over the edge.

As soon as you thought you were going to lose control, Jaehyun flipped you onto your back. He hovered above you, moving one of your legs to wrap around his waist while he entered you once more.

"Shit..." Jaehyun cursed, slamming his hips down into yours. Your legs tightened around his waist and he growled in frustration.

Your head fell back as you cried out in pleasure. His free hand clutched your breast, squeezing gently. Your other hand rested on his cheek, drawing his attention to you.

Jaehyun's eyes were locked onto yours as he moved inside of you. He thrust in and out of you harshly, the force of his movements almost causing you to slip from his grasp. His lips parted in ecstasy as he stared at you, his eyes filling with lust.

"I'm gonna come, Y/N." Jaehyun muttered, looking down at you with pleading eyes.

You wrapped your arms around his neck and arched your back, meeting his thrusts with your own. Your muscles clenched as Jaehyun hit the sweet spot inside of you. He released his tight grip on your breast and moved his hand to your face, pressing his forehead against yours.

You wrapped your legs around his waist tighter as you felt the first waves of pleasure course through your body. A moment later, he joined you in orgasmic bliss, shooting his load into the condom.

After a few moments of catching your breaths, Jaehyun collapsed on you before rolling off you, feeling both exhausted and satisfied. Jaehyun brought his lips to yours and you returned the gesture, sharing a passionate kiss.

"Wow." You sighed happily, resting your head on his chest.

"Yeah..." Jaehyun chuckled, stroking your back. "That was intense."

"Where'd you learn to fuck like that? From watching porn?" You asked, wiping your sweat soaked brow. You let out a laugh when he looked away. "No need to be embarrassed, Jaehyun. We're both adults here."

Jaehyun raised an eyebrow, smirking at you. "Uh huh."

"If I didn't know any better, I would say that we are meant to be together." You continued.

"Uh huh." Jaehyun repeated, fingers sliding along your hips. "I watch porn and you masturbate in my bed thinking about me. It's destiny."

You smacked his arm playfully. "Shut up."

Jaehyun let out a laugh, pulling you close for another kiss. You wrapped your arms around his neck, savoring the feeling of being in his embrace.

"Now let's get dressed and go out to dinner." You suggested. "If you tell my brother and the other guys about what we did, I will smother you in your sleep."

"I wouldn't mind being smothered by your tits." Jaehyun said, teasingly.

"Stop trying to seduce me!" You giggled, bringing his lips to yours. "By the way, happy birthday Jaehyun. And thank you for letting me spend it with you."

Jaehyun smiled, kissing you tenderly. "Thank you for spending it with me. I hope you didn't have any other plans today since it's also Valentine's Day."

"Nope. Nothing at all." You admitted, pulling away from him to look into his eyes. "Will you believe me if I secretly, kinda wanted you to be mines for tonight?"

"Why?" Jaehyun asked, raising an eyebrow.

"Because I really, really like you. And there was no one I wanted to spend Valentine's Day and a birthday with more than you." You whispered, leaning forward to place a soft kiss on his lips. "Happy Birthday, Jaehyun."

"And Happy Valentine's Day, Y/N." Jaehyun whispered back. "Can you be my forever only? Because I really, really like you too."

"... Yes." You breathed, looking into his dreamy eyes. "I can be yours forever."

#nct #nct stories #nct 127 #nct fanfic #nct imagines #nct smut #nct jaehyun #jaehyun #jung jaehyun #jaehyun smut #jaehyun x reader

240 notes · View notes

tarjapearce · 6 months

Text

Mi Dulce Cereza (Pt. 7)

Ranchero! Miguel O'Hara x Reader

WARNINGS: Telenovela coded drama, emotional distress, Strained Relationships, unexpected visits, mild angst, relationship building, fluff towards the end, Miguel being a softie for his wife.

Summary: Even in darkest times, love shines through.

A/N: Hope you like it :') .

Intro:

"It's your fault." Rosaura's venomous tone didn't go unnoticed by her husband.

"My fault?! I did nothing but raise her well in the Lord's path. I didn't spoil her. If anyone here is at fault is you."

William's voice was ever serene, but his words were vitriolic.

"Me?! How dare you say such things!"

Once back home with empty hands there was nothing but more chaos. Blame turned into a hot potato game of who was the culprit of your apparent rebellious phase. Neither of them wanted to assume that none other than unrealistic and absurd expectations from them towards you had been the spark that started your emancipation fire.

A fire that was shining too brightly for their likings, consuming everything they had known and had taught you. Appearances were unable to be kept any further as your mother was confronted by her friends. Asking her if the rumors of you eloping with the farmer boy were true. It would be always a:

"That wicked man manipulated my daughter. We are trying to get her back, but his lies are convincing enough to keep her by his side."

or a "I'm sure he has her against her will, my little dove would never run away like that. I know her!"

But never a truthful He got her pregnant, claims to love her and now they live in their own home away from this mess trying to live honestly.

The rumors of you getting pregnant had made them another mirror to the single youngsters in town . Rosaura could hear the people talking ill about you and them. How they didn't work hard enough to keep you on check, how they never were firmer and stricter in your upbringing, and how they had been too stupid to actually let the devil in their own home and corrupt you.

It was enough shame to convince her husband and start looking for you. She had been embarrassed enough thanks to your naive games of love. And Miguel.

Her mouth scowled in disgust, heart heavy with resent. He would definitely pay. How dared he to lay his sinful eyes on you? How dared he to lay with you? Even worse, How dared he to take you for himself, impregnated you and call you his wife?

Bold and stupid.

Miguel had ruined her plan of getting you married off to a rich and wonderful man named Sergei Kravinoff. One of the best foreign clients the estate had. He was an avid hunter and collector, that upon seeing your picture was delighted and charmed.

But how was she to explain to him that her only daughter had ran off with the farmer boy? And was now pregnant with his child?

"If you wouldn't pester her with so many dating prospects maybe this... whole mess would have been avoided and she'd be under our roof. Following our rules!"

"Would you shut up?! You let that lowlife to intimidate you. I don't care if he's build like a tree. I want him down, chopped off from the root from her life."

"He's clearly done something to her. Did you see her yelling at us? I'd never seen her like that."

"Hormones make you stupid. And pregnancy hormones make it even worse"

"Just like you when you were pregnant of her. At least he will suffer a little more with that. Once she reaches the second trimester-"

"No no. that's where you're wrong. I won't let her to ruin her life. Sergei wants her!"

"I will have to stop you there, Rosaura. A child life is sacred. Innocent."

"Oh, the wretched child you're always complaining about is now an innocent life?"

"Don't tempt my ire, woman. I know you despise the man. And as much as this situation angers us, that's going too far. That's her punishment for giving in temptation. Let her bear with it."

"You're such an hypocrite. Do you know who Sergei is?"

"I do. Nor care. All I want is my daughter back. There are other ways to break them apart."

"What are you thinking?"

"Confronting them only brings them closer. I fell for her lie of loving him for a minute, but I know it's fear speaking for her. We'll let them be for now."

"No!-"

"And just when they think they are safe, it will be the time for us to step in. Let them have a little sense of security. I'll allow them to finish the place."

"You are waiting too long!"

"Rosaura. Enough. I know what I am doing. I know you hate waiting. But it will be worth it. I know so. Can't let the man that embarrassed me and my family, and tarnished my reputation to go unscathed with my daughter."

"You better keep your promises, William. I hate being lied to."

------

Miguel could barely get a glimpse of sleep during the night. Just when he thought his body would actually give in to the somnolence, he'd startle and remain awake. Pushing the sleepyness away as his mind raced with the many insidious thoughts about last night.

How had your parents found you? With their influence he was sure that they've got the address, they were known through the whole county by their horses business mainly, church was a secondary feat.

His hand ran through his messy hair. You had been put to sleep by Victoria, something he was thankful for. He was no baby expert but it was a commonly known fact that too much stress led up to bad things, and the least he wanted was something else happening. Specially to you or his child.

What had he gotten himself into, this time? He knew your parents were difficult, but this was something completely different from what he expected. He was not only dealing with them, but their direct threats as well.

Not that he wasn't regretting everything that had happened between you two. Had he been too rushed into marrying you? Of course not. He also didn't marry you because you'd be the future mother of his child. He had snatched you away for himself because he loved you. He loved you to bits and pieces and as a whole.

You were too much of a woman to be married to someone else that would treat you badly and wouldn't take his time to actually get to know you. You were too much for the rest of men that never made a step further in their conquer and we're satisfied with little, such as little glances or smiles from you.

He was ambitious, and had wanted it all. He went through so much to get you, still was. But knowing you loved him and even stood your ground against your parents, one of the reasons of his ongoing headache, made it all worth it.

He couldn't quite explain it. At first it was mere lust his body was filled with upon meeting you. The need to corrupt you had proven extremely difficult for him to keep himself at bay. That's why he was always so tempting, so forbidden, so inviting to give in around you.

But you were too sweet and pure. Always being concerned about him, ever attentive and gentle. A stark contrast with his demeanor. He had taken the job since his place needed renovations once and for all. He owed that to himself. He owed that to his old man. Vicky's late husband.

And then he had met you, for real. At first he thought of you another gorgeous spoiled, and dumb city girl if he was honest, but as time kept on passing, he was proven wrong in so many ways he felt the need to apologize to you as soon as you'd wake up later.

You were smart, not a genius but smart enough to be a fast learner and help your father with the finances, heavenly cooking skills and so eager to be more than a bimbo wife, a life most of your old friends had settled for. You had gone to college, just like him. You cared for those around you even if that meant to face your mother, just like him. You both were so alike in so many ways it'd be foolish to let you go.

What got him grovelling at your feet was your innocence and your will to make something out of your life even if your parents sabotaged you. The strength in you, the perseverance and hard work you had shown him even to this very day was the deal maker. And soon enough you'd make him a father.

You weren't only making his most precious dream come true, but were in tandem helping in making your love nest.

Investing all of your energies in building your forever home. Your own sanctuary and safe place with him.

And now it was his time to protect you, to stood his ground like you had done for him.

The room was filled with a warm and golden orange and yellow hues, basking the place in a gentle light, as if the universe was telling him 'Everything will be fine'. A hopeful thought to his already rattled mind. He was exhausted.

Exhausted of hiding and running away only to be harassed later. But that wouldn't stop him from working, no. There was still so much left to do around the hacienda.

With a deep breath he looked your way. A small tug on his heart sent a painful stab kn his chest at your expression. Frowning brows, hands clutched to the sheets and pillows, probably pretending it was him and puffy eyes that served as proof of your cries last night.

Your rage was something else. It made his tired smile to soften into a more admiring one. He hoped to never face it, cause he was sure he'd be on his knees, asking for forgiveness if you wished, even if it was over something so silly and irrelevant.

With a soft croak, you stirred and he embraced you gently. You were scared and asking for him last night, something he regretted to not have fulfilled sooner. But you and his child's safety was the main priority.

He'd have to talk to Joseph and Paco about new rounds done through the day. He couldn't install the safety cameras yet cause his area would take a lot to cover and it wasn't finished yet. If only he'd have some sort of superpower to make everything faster.

But the only power he had right now was to provide comfort to your heart and head. He'd die before something happening to you.

A mental slap came to his mind upon such though. If he died there was none else to look after you.

Even his mind needed a break. Birds chirped merrily, announcing the six am. But his body felt heavier and more sluggish than usual, his mind unclear as a fog came over his thoughts. He wasn't used to pull all-nighters. You turned on your side and curled in his chest, finally taking a hold of him. Eyes fluttered open, relief etched to your features.

Your arms embraced him so desperate it quickly had your eyes all glossy and teary again.

"Hey..." He mumbled with a lip tight smile.

You sobbed in his cradling arms.

"I'm so sorry, Miguel."

A gentle shhh came from him. His calloused fingers ventured through the strands of your hair, caressing with such care he'd thought you'd break.

"Why are you apologizing, cariño?"

"For everything that happened last night. You don't deserve this."

"Last night wasn't good for anyone, you specially, mi amor. But you are safe here. "

"It's not about that... I'm... scared. My father knows where we live now. And he could-"

"Cerecita, mi reina. Look." He sat on the bed and took a hold of your hand, to then kiss softly at the back of your palm, "Your father can make all the threats he wants, hell... He can even tear this place down if he wants to, but he won't take me away from you."

Your hand trembled in between his. You wanted to sit, but he laid back again, draping the sheets closer to you, making sure you were warm. Like a cocoon in his arms.

"It's not about that. You don't understand Miguel. My father is a man of word-."

"So am I." His fingers grazed your cheek softly, "I promised you that we'd be happy. And we will. I don't know how and I know it's scary for us, but as long as we are together, we will."

"I don't want you to get hurt. I... I couldn't stand something happening to you just cause my parents are too petty to acknowledge I married you."

"The only thing that would kill me? Is you leaving through that door and never come back. "

The sheer thoughts brought tears to your eyes. Hormones had also woken up to make a riot on your mind.

"Don't say that, please."

He kissed the top of your head and stared down at you.

"I know this is far from over, and trouble might keep coming. The only thing I am asking from you, is to stay strong. Can you do that for me, preciosa?"

"I can try"

"Good. That's all I'm asking, really. If you're strong, I'm strong."

You gave another silent sob while he peppered your face in gentle kisses. Soothing your worries away.

But he was scared too. Not a childish sort of fear, but something deeper. He knew that your parents were dense, if not denser than water itself. And would try things to keep you on edge, or worse try and mess with his estate.

Fear tactics won't make him lower his head and coward. Not when his pregnant wife was next to him crying, stressing and feeling guilty. Your fingers however traced his face gently, his tired lids drooped, as his eyes stared at you, curious yet fearful.

"Did you get some sleep?"

He chuckled bashfully, "I look that rundown?"

"No. But you do look tired. You're not used to stay up past twelve."

A tired and airy chuckle flared out his nose, his fingers took yours to then kiss the knuckles.

"I know."

Sleepiness had weighed him down completely, body made out of lead and muscles sore. Begging him to catch a break and sleep.

"You'll get grumpy" your hand slipped away from his and went to his face again, caressing and holding onto him. Grounding his wandering thoughts towards you. Anchoring himself in your loving and preocuppied stare.

"You need sleep. I'm sure Vicky will understand. Please?"

"Can't say no to you."

Doting arms embraced his neck, pulling him closer to your chest, it was your turn to protect him. He was always making sure you had everything, that you were alright. A giver by nature.

Just like you. This time you assured he'd cuddle in your chest, sharp cheeks rested on your mounds, ear pressed against you; allowing the steady beats of your heart lull him to sleep while you played with his hair.

Vicky didn't knock the door to awake you.

-----

You both awoke around 11 am, past breakfast. Vicky had instructed the construction workers where to keep building, guiding them in Miguel's absence. Victoria knew the plans her son had, so it was relatively easy to give orders. Some days more and the barn would be completely ready to then move to fencing properly the land.

It was a bit more money, but after much thought, a vynil fencing would be perfect. It not only offered privacy, but the chances of someone sneaking in would be less than 0, unless you knew the property like the back of one's hand.

To your dismay you had only seen the first part of it. If Miguel wished, he could start selling his own produce in the farmer's market. But right now, the soil was covered in weeds, and other invasive plants and thickets. It would be the final part of the renovations.

Vicky knocked the door, Miguel opened to reveal his mother with trays of food and some tea for you. She had heard the retching from the outside door. Stress was making your morning sickness worse and having an empty stomach didn't help either.

"Got you some things that will help you, and you too."

Vicky beckoned Miguel to help her, The little coffee table inside the room was used as support, brunch was served.

"Thank you Vicky" She patted your shoulder gently, as she served some flowery smelling tea.

"Don't you worry about it. You're making me a grandma soon."

The sweet smell and taste of the steamy liquid made your stomach settle gradually. Then you started eating with ferocious appetite. Miguel had his big cup of coffee, and ate as well, but his appetite was little.

Vicky smacked the back of his shoulder softly.

"Deja de preocuparte y come." (Stop over thinking and eat.)

Your hand slid into his and squeezed.

"Miguel?"

"Hm?"

"I'm scared too. But I also know that having us demoralized and afraid won't do good for us."

He pulled you closer and kissed your head for the umpteenth time, comfort and love were words you could use if you'd get asked what his hugs felt like. Despite his rough and cold demeanor he was one of the sweetest and gentle man you had ever encounter, even if his actions spoke volumes for him.

His head remained out of his hat, the piece had suffocated him enough through a good chunk of the previous night.

"That's exactly what those cabrones want. No offense, dear"

You chuckled and shook your head.

"Vicky is right. Whatever comes, we will face it together. As a family."

His eyes softened as you placed his hand on your belly.

"One day I'm sure this will be one of those stories you'll tell your kids when they get older and wanna know about family drama"

Miguel couldn't help but snort at Vicky's insinuation. But deep down he felt grateful. Thankful enough that two of the most important people in his life were reassuring him. His devoted and short tempered mother, a crucial part of his heart and now you and his growing child. All around him, promising they'd all be fine.

He needed to believe it. This wasn't one of the moments he was allowed to flank. He needed himself strong, steady with his head high. Ever vigilant and ready to face everything that came his way. He was an O'Hara. And O'Hara's endured.

That was his own mantra, bestowed and honored by previous generations.

The brunch and Victoria's presence had helped you both to ease the rising nerves and the subtle anxiety that undermined your head with unhealthy and raucous thoughts. Instead, even if a temporary distraction, work in the estate kept going. After all, it would take so much more than just a threat to break your spirits.

---

Miguel had tended to the barn and foresaw the fencing advance. Construction materials would be brought over the weekend to immediately start making his private property even more secluded, away from prying eyes and anyone stupid enough that tried to venture within the hacienda.

And after yesterday's fiasco, Miguel had come up with a new plan about security rounds until the fencing started. Just as he was about to explain, Joseph called him, a bit concern etched into his face.

"What now?"

"It's not the people from yesterday, but they claim to know your wife, Boss."

"How many of them are there?"

"Just three. Two women and a man."

He nodded and put his hand on his neck, trying to ease the tension that refused to leave his body despite the many attempts of cheering his spirits up.

"Where's my Cerecita?"

"Uh, with Vicky in the orchard."

"Right. Stay here in case there's trouble."

Joseph nodded and stood his ground, as he watched Miguel leaving.

Who would be this time? He wasn't armed this time, so whoever that had ill intentions with him would have to face the might of his fists.

But the silent threat remained as nothing but that. The only noises around were him, the gravel crunching underneath his boots, the subtle wind that played tag between the trees, little birds here and there and finally, the voices of people he knew, but didn't remember their names or faces .

A cool gust of wind threatened his hat to be blown off his head, but he secured it with a hand. Upon arriving, his surprise couldn't be hidden.

The two ladies were the one that helped you pack and were deeply saddened at your leaving. He always saw them around you, laughing and sharing whenever your mother wasn't around to shoo them away from you. And the man, one of the helpers back at your parent's barn.

"Mr. O'Hara? Im really sorry to bother, and showing up like this after what happened."

One of the women spoke. Miguel was cautious, and so far his intentions of opening the door didn't ring a bell on him. For all he knew your parents could have sent them to spy you.

"We quit. That Rosaura lady slapped my sister and it was enough for us. We were planning on leaving the estate even before the Miss left with ya."

But that definitely sounded something his beloved mother in law would do.

"I know you have zero reasons to believe us, but trust us. None back at the estate really liked the missus's parents either. We could only hold up for so long before everything came down. But we needed the jobs."

"I understand." With a sigh, Miguel opened the door and allowed them in.

A little rounds of thank yous echoed behind him before he guided them back at the main estate.

"Will you let us stay? Just for the night of course. "

"You'll have to talk to La Patrona." (The boss)

He chuckled upon you coming to his mind, "My wife I mean."

A little of hushed yet excited whispers trailed him along some 'I told you!' 'She did it!'.

The reunion was loud as he had expected. Loaded of hugs, heartfelt congratulations and of course them rubbing your belly.

Mary, the big sister was two years older than you, she had been one of the few that approached you with genuine friendship back at home, her sister, Susan was your age, even though she was on the quieter side, she was disciplined enough to keep herself busy and out of trouble. Always doing something. However her eyes kept wandering to Joseph.

They had asked your permission to stay overnight before returning to their hometown the next day. Of course you agreed.

They helped you to prepare everything, letting Vicky to rest for a bit. Even though they had spark, Vicky observed them with hard eyes, trying to decipher their true intentions. And so far she had found nothing. Not even in the man that quickly established a conversation between Paco and Joseph.

And soon all of you sat down at the table that seemed smaller.

"Like I was telling Mr. O'Hara, you mother was livid after you left."

"She was like a child throwing a tantrum, telling Pastor William to do something"

"Yeah, that's sounds like mom" An awkward smile came to your face as they spoke.

"But after last night, it was enough for us. She slapped Susan in the face when she got her the wrong dress."

Vicky couldn't hold back her gasp and contempt

"Dios mío, esa mujer ha enloquecido" (My God, that woman has gone mad)

"I'm really sorry it had to come to this point."

"Ya can't blame yourself, darlin" Mary spoke, letting her southern accent shine through for a second, "Ever since ya left people have been leaving, only to be replaced within some days."

"No wonder why they came in so pissed" You mumbled with a little giggle.

"How's... Agustín?"

Their faces fell and the man, his old helper James spoke.

"Pastor sold him to a guy. Joaquín is kinda sick and Luis, is the only one they actually pay attention to. You know, Joaquín is old so..."

Miguel could only nod with a saddened yet expected smile. It was a matter of time for Agustín to be sold.

"Do you know by chance who he got sold off to?"

"Some russian named Kravi- Uh... Kravinoff?"

"I see." Miguel’s shoulder slumped for a moment. At least he wasn't sent off to the meat market, "Hopefully that man knows how to treat him."

"He seems into animals a bit too much, sir. A bit eccentric with his fur coats. But apparently the man is a collector and the missus's parents best client."

Of course. Agustín was a purebred friesian stallion after all. His worth was over 20k.

You slid a hand on Miguel's thigh comfortingly. His subtle blue mood contagious. A lot of details you both were missing were spilled in the table.

Even though Miguel wasn't one for gossips, hearing your parents struggling to keep the appearances had definitely put a smile on his face. It served them right after all the unhinged things they had done. But he didn't let go that easy the fact that from all the horses remaining, Luis was the only one that was being properly taken care of.

Your horse.

A little hope shone in his darkened by fears heart. He didn't care if he was called a dreamer, but sometimes he pondered how would be his relationship with your parents would've been if they had a completely reaction to him.

Would they tolerate him? Would they be excited for being grandparents? Would they be happy for you instead of being petty and spiteful about it? He didn't know.

And he was tired of thinking over and over. Vicky's words remained closer to his heart.

If isn't your stubbornness, it's your love that will convince them.

But that was a very distant and utopian thought. All that mattered in his present was you and his new growing family.

The guest cabin was taken by the ladies and James joined Paco and Joseph.

Vicky drew you a warm bath to ease the remaining tension off your body. Miguel had been watching you. The changes in your body suited beautifully. Plump breasts, hips and thighs, gorgeous sudsy skin that had some flower petals adhered to it, enhancing it's beauty. You were the purest form of art before his eyes. The mother of his children. His wife.

He marvelled at the way you smiled upon rubbing your belly. The illusion of being a mother surely took you by surprise, but with Miguel's reassurance, you were excited even to meet your child. The ultimate physical form of love between you two.

Puppy and rusty brown eyes fixed on you as you let your hair down, letting the strands to cover your back to wash them next.

He stepped in. With a kiss on your temple and a bashful smile he sat behind you.

"Mira nomás qué chulada." (Look at that, so beautiful)

He pried gently the shampoo bottle off your hands and poured some on his hands to then lather your scalp with it. The lovely smell of cherries wafted in the air as foam appeared in your head while he massaged your scalp adoringly.

You hummed in approval at the careful and soft movements of his fingers. Inducing a relaxed state over you.

"Miguel?"

"Yes, Cerecita?" His voice matching his fingers.

"I don't ever regret marrying you."

His fingers faltered for a moment before resuming his washing. It was as if the doubts on his heart had secretly found a way to your ears and you were now reassuring him.

"You've the best thing that has shown up into that old house. Still are."

"Gotta be thankful to your parents for creating you, preciosa. Unbearable as they are"

The both of you chuckled, ignoring the looming dark skies that blended within the night's mantle.

"I'll take in Mary and Susan. I'm sure they'd be wonderful help around here."

"Are you sure?"

"Yes. I will pay them of my own money I've saved. So don't worry"

"No, no, let me take them in."

"Miguel, all of these renovations are coming off your pocket. We are a team now, I know somehow it will work out. Let me help you."

He accepted his defeat with a little slump in his shoulders and lazy smile.

"Alright, as you wish, mi corazón."

"What do you love the most about me?"

His hands took the bathtub's head shower and rinsed your hair. Water splashing on his skin, like the sudden question.

"Your bravery, empathy towards others and loyalty. And you're drop dead gorgeous too."

Your cheeks warmed up with a little flush on them as he spoke.

"What about you, Cerecita? What does my wife loves about me?"

"Since you snatched the words off my mouth, I'd say loyalty, honesty and resilience." You took his hands in yours, weaving your fingers between his and smiled, "Many would've given up on me at this point because of my parents but..."

Another kiss, "Hearing you calling me your wife makes me all happy and the good kind of dumb. I know we won't have good days, or that we will be far from perfect but, You've taught me so much about myself is wonderful. "

His hands secured yours as another kiss on your temple was given.

"Thanks for not giving up on me, Miguel."

"Thanks for being my wife, Cerecita."

Your smile disarmed him. And that night your wish of being asleep in his arms came true. There was no horrors that lurked in the shadows.

#miguel o'hara #miguel o'hara x reader #miguel o'hara x you #atsv miguel #Ranchero Miguel 🐎#Mi Dulce Cereza #🍒🕷️#La Novela #miguel ohara x you #Miguel o'hara fluff #Spotify

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koisuko · 7 days

Note

Hear me out, but how about a shy female reader who has been chosen as one of earthrealm's champions but Bihan doesn't see it due to her being short and shy, he makes a comment about it but is shocked when the reader gave a smartass response to his comment which peaks Bihan's curiosity about the reader?

Tw: none, shy reader, fem reader, no use of y/n

You lived a fairly reclusive life, hidden away in a densely forested area surrounded by high mountains. There were very few homes nearby with the nearest neighbor being 100 kilometers away. Just how you liked it, away from strangers in your cozy cabin. It was a paradise, a shy persons dream.

You sat on your brown sofa, the cushions so pillowy it nearly swallowed your petite frame. Beside you, your sole company in the isolation you live in, a small black cat. Soft purrs accompanied the crackle of the flames before you, your toes wiggling near the fireplace for warmth. A sigh left your lips, at the relaxation taking a hold. All the chores were done, you finished your reading, and you had gotten off your online job just an hour ago. You had nothing to do but relax. A hand stroked the silky black fur of your cat, the purrs a gentle lullaby. Your eyelids grew heavy, barely having the strength to fight the impending nap. Not that you wanted to, naps were your favorite thing after all.

One..two..three knocks on your front door jostled you from your drowsy state. A spike in anxiety hit, fear of who or what could be here. You never really had visitors, or many friends outside of your cat and family. There is no one you know to be visiting anytime soon, so who is it? Slowly, you approached the front door, a nervous expression on your face despite your best efforts to seem confident. Armed with nothing but your fists, you stood just inches from the wooden barrier. You knew how to fight, if it was necessary. A woman in the middle of no where needs her protection! You’d be damned if you unhooked the chain lock at the top of the door. You mustered up the courage to place a cautious hand on the door knob. Was it hot in here? You could feel the sweat begin to bead at the ridge of your brow. A sigh left your lips as the door slowly creaked open. On the other side we’re not one, but three large burly men. This is your end, isn’t it? “U-uh h-hello?” You squeaked out, earning a scoff from a man wearing blue. His face seemed molded into a permanent scowl, and his scrutinizing gaze locked on to what little of you peaked from behind the door. The first to speak, was a man with bright white eyes. “Greetings, I am Lord Liu Kang, God of fire, Protector of Earthrealm,” his voice was oddly calming, but not enough to block out the body guards beside him, “May we enter?” Enter? As if! His title seemed like something straight out of one of your novels. “M-may I ask what business you have here?” You cleared your throat, anything to rid the lump making it hard to speak. “N-no offense but..I think you have the wrong house.” Liu Kang’s bright orbs creased at the corners in a smile, “I assure you we are at the correct residents.”

Shit, you thought. A thick clump of saliva made its way down your throat, causing you to nearly choke on it. “We can talk outside, if you wish,” he added. Something about this man was…strange yet peaceful. What choice did you have? You puffed out your chest and unhooked the chain keeping these intruders outside. All within a split second, you swung the door open and readied yourself for a fight with a defensive position. Unfortunately, a pathetic squeak left your lips as soon as the door smacked the wall. The two men behind Liu Kang chuckled, one with a more lighthearted giggle, and the other a demeaning one. Liu Kang smiled once again, bowing his head respectfully. You straightened up with an awkward gulp so loud the birds outside could hear it, “I uh..sorry.” He shook his head, “it is understandable, your bravery is admirable.” That soothed your nerves just a bit, until, the man in blue spoke for the first time. “This is the chosen champion?” His lip curled into one of distaste as he eyed you down, “pathetic.” It was one thing to hate everything around you, but to insult you before seeing your skills was a whole new level. “Excuse me?” You crossed your arms, popping a hip out with a snarl, “you look like a mere boy with sticks for arms compared to the men I’ve fought!” He didn’t say a word, instead, he scoffed and averted his gaze elsewhere. Although, despite his initial burning expression, his eyes seemed to soften ever so slightly when looking at you. It was barely noticeable, but a spark flickered just behind that ice cold exterior.

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jadeylovesmarvelxo · 2 months

Text

🎸

Angst with a happy ending, pregnancy, rockstar Eddie, minors dni. 18+

❤️

Eddies naked body presses to yours, his hand caresses over your hips as he presses tender kisses to your neck. It's nice, more than nice and for just a moment you can pretend that he's yours.

But it's only for a moment. The same sinking feeling fills you again as it always does when it's time for Eddie to go.

After your heart being broken repeatedly, hopes shattered every time Eddie didn't stay with you, you had finally had enough.

It had been building for some time but after finding out what you did last night you knew you had to leave, had to give up this impossible dream that you and Eddie were going to live happily ever after.

Tenderly your hand ghosts over your belly and you feel a rush of protectiveness for the life that was growing inside of you.

Eddie turns and looks at your face, freezes when he sees the tears in your eyes. "Princess" he begins to say something but you don't want to hear it.

"I'm tired Eddie, I'm so tired of this. Tired of being some dirty little secret" your heart throbs with pain but you swallow down your emotions.

At first being with Eddie Munson the rockstar was beyond your wildest dreams, you couldn't believe he noticed you, wanted to be with you. Especially as he was married to a beautiful model called Charlotte.

A marriage that was toxic, a mistake Eddie had told you the first night the two of you made love, an arrangement between Charlotte and Corroded Coffins manager to drum up publicity for the two to date then marry in a whirlwind romance.

"I was an idiot who agreed because she was a hot as fuck model, why wouldn't I want to be seen with her?"

"But fuck, this whole thing has been a nightmare. We don't have anything in common and want nothing to do with each other, it's the stupidest thing I've ever done, she's a great woman. She really is. We're just not a good match at all"

Of course you feel in love with Eddie hook, line and sinker after two months of mindblowing sex and opening up to each other.

But you craved more. More Eddie couldn't give you.

"Sweetheart, don't say that. You know what you mean to me" did you? He had never told you he loved you, how did he really feel?

"I'm just convenient Eddie, you know that I'm so in love with you but I'll never be the one who you're really with, won't be seen with you because you're a rockstar god and married to a gorgeous model. I deserve to be more than just an outlet"

His eyes knit in fury. "That's all you think you are to me, an outlet?" you stay quiet and begin to gather your things, pick up your bag and try to stop yourself from shaking.

This was for the best. This was for the best.

"I think this is the last time we should see each other" your voice shakes, you feel like you can barely breathe. The look on Eddie's face breaks your heart even more but it quickly hardens into something cold and distant.

"If that's what you want" you want him to tell you that he loves you, deep down though you know that won't happen.

"Goodbye Eddie" you hesitate then press a kiss to his cheek. When the door closes you hear something that sounds like a sob, it's violent and rips you apart inside.

It could be from Eddie or it could be from you, both hearts are broken that night. Even if you thought different.

...

Three months later the divorce of Eddie and Charlotte is all over the press.

A month after that Corroded Coffin announce their new album, it's a complete surprise to all of their fans.

The songs are critically claimed. It's their best album yet according to many fans and critics alike. All through the album is the theme of loss, heartache and haunting mistakes. One song is about a beautiful and tender love that slips through your fingers.

Gossip blogs speculate that it's about Charlotte but the reports are rebuffed by Eddie himself. Fans are rampant to know who the mystery person is that Eddie is still clearly so in love with.

Corroded Coffin go on one last tour to celebrate the album. All the while you have no idea what's going on with Eddie. Steve, Robin and Nancy are protecting you and the baby from all the speculation.

You're the one that got away, the one Eddie sings his heart out about on stage every night, yet you don't even know it.

...

Exactly eight months into your pregnancy is the day after Corroded Coffins last tour. You're eagerly awaiting the arrival of your little girl but you're heart still longs for Eddie.

It's stupid but you have this dream that one day he will show up on your doorstep and you'll get your happy ending but dreams were for fairytales weren't they?

You're living with Steve and Robin for now, Eddie doesn't even know you're here and even if he did know, you doubt he would care.

There's a knock on the door later that night and you feel your heart fill with hope, then shake your head. God, you needed to stop thinking like a fool. It was most likely Dustin or maybe even Uncle Wayne.

You open the door and Eddie's standing there, flowers in hand and looking nervous as hell.

"I'm so fucking sorry it took me so long to find my way home princess. I love you, I love you sweetheart"

It took a long time and a lot of pining and longing but Eddie had finally found his way back to you.

❤️

#eddie munson x reader #eddie munson x you #eddie munson angst #eddie munson x y/n #eddie munson x pregnant!reader #eddie munson #rockstar eddie munson

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queers-gambit · 2 months

Text

Now and at the Hour of His Death

prompt: any who say, "it's better to have loved and lost than never to have loved at all," were never loved by him.

pairing: Osferth x female!pregnant!wife!reader

fandom: The Last Kingdom

word count: 6.1k+

note: fuck you, Netflix.

warnings: you already know - author needs therapy, projects hard, pregnant wife, Lord’s name in vain, Christianity (obviously), and a fuck ton of fucking ANGST because fuck your feelings. hurt NO comfort, drama, oneshot, cursing, canon-typical violence, injury, and blood. character death and spoilers - yeah, i'm giving you THAT scene. requires maturity and caution. good luck.

also please note: NO, i do not age Osferth to be 16 - that's just a reference age for when he eventually runs away from the monastery.

again, you are missing nothing if this upsets or triggers you and you choose to skip. value your wellbeing, my angels. author is not responsible for the media YOU choose consume, but still, as usual, MDNI

"You should not be doing this sort of work," Ingrith's voice scolded you, and when you turned, you saw the blonde woman standing with her hip cocked and a stern expression. "It's bad for your health to be in such filth, we've stable boys for this sort of chore."

"I do not mind," you sniffled in the brisk air, shoveling the horse shit of the stable into a muck bucket to be dumped into the fields later. "It keeps me busy," you grunted lightly, sure to bend your knees when lifting the pitchfork, "keeps me humble," you listed, dumping the waste to grin at your friend, "and keeps me young."

"In what way?"

"Reminds me of my childhood," you eased, continuing your work. "I slept in a stable from the ages of 4 to... Oh, shit, I guess I was about 16 before I left The Loft."

"What?" She breathed in confusion. "Never knew that."

"Yeah, yeah, true story," you beamed at her, still shoveling shit. "I slept in the stalls with the horses, sometimes in the grain rooms - basically anywhere I could since my work didn't include official room and board, so, I had to make do with what was available. Then, one day when I was about ten, Old Man Rivers said I could use the hay loft if I cleared it out, fixed the rotten planks. Stayed up there till I was about 16, and after that, I kinda ran away."

"Old Man Rivers?"

You nodded, "My mother lived on his homestead, but she was real sick, you see. So, he kinda took me in without assuming responsibility for me," you cleared your throat, shrugging, "let me stay in his barn if I worked with the horses and livestock for him."

"Why would you want to be reminded of that?"

"Seems simpler when I look back."

Ingrith sighed, "C'mon, put the pitchfork down. Come help me prepare the rabbits. The scouts say the men aren't too far off, they'll want a hot meal."

You chuckled with ease and set your pitchfork aside, giving a hearty pat to one of the horse's necks as you passed by to exit the stable. Ingrith made sure you washed up before you were both mounting rabbits on the rack to start skinning them.

"Could I ask something?" She wondered after a time.

"Anything you'd like."

"Why'd you run away? From Old Man Rivers?"

You laughed, "I was in love."

"Oh, you and Baby Monk go that far back, huh?"

"Try even farther," you teased. "Our mothers were friends, and when I worked in the stable, he was in the monastery, but when he came to me, saying he couldn't do it any longer, I couldn't let him go alone. Life was supposed to offer more than what we were given, so, we set out to find the legendary barbarian, The Dane Slayer," you teased, both giggling, "our Lord, the legendary, Uhtred of Bebbanburg."

"And all this time...?" She smiled, watching you shuck hide like you've done it your whole life. Ingrith inferred you probably did.

"Yeah," you eased, "all this time, he's been by my side. Kept me close, never left me behind. The others weren't too sure about me on account of being a woman, they told us to piss off a few times - but they came around after Osferth refused to send me away."

"He's a good lad, Osferth," she nodded.

"Arguably one of the best ones," you agreed, nudging her arm gently, "but look who I'm telling, right?"

"Oh!" She giggled, swatting at you loosely before going back to your work for a moment. Suddenly, the townspeople of Rumcofa stirred to life, and over the voices, you heard them announcing their Lord's return - which meant all of your men were home. You both grinned and breathlessly left your post, Ingrith pausing a young lad to ask, "How many return to us?"

"Does it matter? Come, c'mon, let us see ourselves!" You all but squealed, overwhelmed with excitment; eager for your own reunion with the man you've loved since you were a young lass.

"Warn the alehouse!" Finan was heard shouting. "Osferth's thirsty!"

"Jesus," you laughed, dodging around the procession of people waiting to greet their warriors on their return home so you could approach the white gelding your husband rode.

His face was absolutely priceless when he caught sight of you. As Osferth eagerly dismounted, your hands smoothed over the small swell of your belly - purposefully wearing a dress that accentuated your ever-changing figure. "Am I dreaming?" He laughed, a stablehand taking hold of his horse so his hands were free to caress your belly. "Oh, my God, I'm not, 's real, oh, God," he beamed, laughing with you. "You're pregnant? Truly? Yes? I-I am not - I am not being deceived?"

"No, my love, I guess our prayers were finally heard."

"OH-HOOOO!" You heard Finan holler as Osferth finally pulled you in for a sweet kiss; both ignoring the Irishman. "Lord! LORD! Uhtred! Hey! Did you hear!? Baby Monk's got some spunk in 'im afta all!"

"Oh, God," you laughed against Osferth's lips, but he was quick to shush you with another breath-stealing kiss.

"A baby Baby Monk! AHA!" Finan was still laughing, your husband's hands caressing both your cheeks when he pulled back just in time for Finan to descend. You grunted lightly when his heavy arms dropped over both yours and Osferth's shoulders, his laugh still booming as he gave a squeeze and cooed, "Oh, congratulations, yah two love birds! Wasn't sure you had it innyah, boy!"

"Don't be so rough with her, Finan, for God's sake," Osferth scolded, nudging his friend to get out from under his arm.

"What?" Finan looked at you gobsmacked. "Sayin' I gotta treat yah different now or somethin'?"

"I didn't say that," you told him prettily with fluttering lashes, fist quickly balling up to jab him in the weak spot of his armor - making him grunt and wheeze. "Aht-aht!" You warned with a pointed finger when he flinched as if to retaliate, "Can't hit a pregnant woman."

"Oh, yeh li'l shite," Finan laughed, Osferth pushing him towards his wife so he could stand in front of you and command all attention.

Osferth took a moment to simply look at you; thumbs gently tracing over your cheeks in sweeping motions, a slow grin breaking across his lips. "This almost doesn't feel real... But how I have to praise God for this blessing. A baby," he breathed.

"A little you and me," you agreed softly. "Sound okay to you?"

"More than okay," he chuckled, pecking your lips, "sounds like a lifetime together."

"Good by me." His nose nuzzled up yours, the sweet moment broken when he sighed sadly; eyes shut and smile dropping. "What is it? What's wrong, love?" You asked, stepping into his embrace so you were nuzzled into his neck and his arms were wrapped around your form in a vice.

"Uhtred means to move us again," he whispered in your ear. "Brida, she... She's got Father Pyrlig, and - "

"What!?" You snapped, rearing back slightly to pin him under your hardened glare. Pregnancy hormones would surely give Osferth whiplash.

"My love, I did not - "

"Brida's got Pyrlig? Fuck are we standin' here for, let's go!" You reached for his hand, ready to march off.

"Uh, no, no, no, no," he pulled you back to him; anchoring his hands on your hips so you could not escape. "You are not going anywhere. Not now - especially now," he glanced at your still-growing bump. "The men will go, you know we will return, but you have this new responsibility, and that's keeping this little one safe. For us," he smiled at you.

You huffed, "I'm not unfit to do what needs done, Osferth."

"I did not say you were unfit, but look at the timing of it," he frowned. "I should've been here when you learned, but I was not, and I am truly so sorry for it. Look, I do not know how long this venture will be, but you know I will return. We've waited for our family for far too long, I will not jeopardize this - so I will return. If you go with us, and something were to happen," he shook his head, "my angel, I would never forgive myself. So I need you to stay here, stay safe, if for nothing else but for me."

"But Pyrlig - "

"Will be saved," he assured.

"And Brida - "

"Will be dealt with," he eased, chuckling lightly. "My angel, you worry too much about everyone and yet never about yourself."

You pouted, "Well, why is it just me meant to stay back? This is your child, too, Osferth, and should have the right to meet them! You can't always control what happens, accidents are real, what if you don't return - "

"Don't think like that - "

"But it's a real threat to us - "

He agreed, "Of course, but - "

"Yeah, I know," you nodded, cutting him off, "we serve Lord Uhtred. This comes first, and I'm not - "

"I've made a vow to him."

"You made one to me, too, you know."

"Angel, please, don't do this. Do not ask me to choose," he begged with a frown, and you caved.

So, with a sigh, you nuzzled into his embrace and relented, "All right, yes, fine, go after Brida and Pyrlig. And when you find them, tell him I am waiting for his safe return, he is dearly missed. Ideally, I'd have him birth our child."

"Of course," he breathed, finding a small reprieve of relief that you did not fight him further about leaving - about choosing which vow to fulfill: the one to his Lord Uhtred or the one to his wife.

Both made to God.

Luckily, Osferth married his best friend and you were never one to pick fights with him. You liked the harmony you had; the peaceful environment you had both cultivated to preserve the trust and love you built through the years. He was genuinely one of a kind; a man who walked many lines between faith, humanity, right, wrong. He was the voice of reason, constantly striving to do better than he did before, learning all he could as if a rag soaking in water. For all he was, Osferth has always been enough for you, and for that reason alone, you never felt the need to argue.

To fight. To voice contempt.

"Question," you perked up, smirking at him as your pregnancy symptoms ran a little wild, "think we've time to, you know, really give our thanks?"

"Angel - "

"What?" You grinned. "You fucked me on the alter all those weeks ago and look - your seed stuck. We might as well go give thanks in the same manner, just to really show God how thankful we are for this blessing he's given us."

"Think the Devil's gotten into you," he laughed.

"Or your child is ruining my hormones," you countered, his lips meeting yours in another passionate display of his excitement.

"C'mon," he whispered, taking your hand, and leading you to the chapel - thinking you were being sneaky, but your matching giggles made Ingrith and Finan beam at each other.

"He does know she can't get more pregnant, right?" Finan teased, flinching when Ingrith smacked his upper arm.

"WHY!?"

"My angel, please - "

"What the fuck is going on, Osferth!?"

"I'm trying to explain - "

"The Queen? The fucking Queen is dead in our village! How can that possibly be explained!?" When Osferth didn't answer, just sat in the wooden chair before the shared hearth of your humble home, you snapped, "Well!?"

"Are you finished? May I speak now?"

With a huff, you nodded and gestured for him to speak; arms crossing around your swollen tits. He explained to you the reason for Haesten's arrival, the wagon his men toted, and why he brought the Queen's dead body to the settlement of Rumcofa. He told you Haesten wanted to keep the peace when King Edward found out, claiming Uhtred's son-in-law, Stiorra's husband, Sigtryggr, had ordered this death - thinking war would surely roll over his lands.

You never knew Haesten to be a generous man, nor much of an honest one, but it seemed the severity of the situation made everyone eerily on-edge. Uhtred dispatched his men; leaving Finan and Osferth in the village with you, developing a plan that would save both Saxon and Danish life. And yet, it was all futile when evil forces worked against good.

You didn't feel safe in Rumcofa anymore, there was a stench in the air; tension that mounted to embrace all residents with discomfort. Something was about to happen, but nobody knew what. You didn't claim or pretend to know what was happening, but Haesten's abrupt appearance spelled danger for everyone involved. So, as a security measure, you kept a long sword buckled around your swelling waist and a dagger strapped under your skirts. With Lord Uhtred gone, there was no invisible fence protecting Rumcofa - leaving it up to you, Osferth, Finan, and Cynleaf to pose as guard.

Yet you'd never be enough.

Like the surf over sand, a group of angered men descended on Rumcofa. "Who's men are yah?" Finan asked, you lingering at Osferth's side to watch the interaction from a short distance.

"We come from the King," a burly Saxon replied, your head cocking in interest - swearing you've seen him before. "Dane murderers are hiding here and you must hand them over."

"You're mistaken, sir," you kindly offered, the man's eyes shifting over you, "because we live in peace. Any murderers have surely moved on from here. We do not host them."

The man growled, "Don't think that's true, love."

Finan held a hand back at you, meeting your eyes and nodding simply. He turned back for the man in fur, diverting, "Of course, my men will attend to it."

Finan turned from the group, his eyes connecting with yours as he passed by. There was urgency, a quickened pace he adopted; having no intention to hand anyone over, wanting to remove these men without bloodshed. However, that was a distant thought because Father Benedict tried to assure the Saxon leader that nobody in Rumcofa would murder Queen Aelflaed.

You wanted to step in when the Saxon evidently didn't know about the Queen's demise - getting in Benedict's face and demanding to see what he spoke of.

"No, no, no," you muttered nervously, "he can't see the body, love, no, no, no, this is bad. Very bad."

"We can't stop Father Benedict without altercation," Osferth whispered back, keeping a tight hold of your hand, just watching the group. "If something happens, you need to get yourself safe."

"How do we truly know they're from Edward? What credentials do they have?" When Osferth shook his head, you worried, "Got a bad feeling 'bout this, angel."

Then the violence began.

The strange men took charge when their leader walked away, starting to physically harass the citizens; making both you and Osferth step in to try and diffuse the tension. You pushed men off unarmed women, got in between them and the children, did what you could without drawing a weapon.

When a man shoved you away from him, Finan wrangled him away, sneering, "Get yer hands off of her!" He kept the violent men at bay for a moment, telling you, "You need to go, darling - "

"Not now, Fin, look around us! We need to contain the situation, you'll need all hands you can get," You snapped, the two of you forced to part way.

Osferth panted nervously and looked left and right, turning to meet the Saxon and demand, "Tell your men to stand down!" But then, his eyes squinted when you joined his side to pull him back a step or two, recognizing him just as you did.

"I don't think they're here for the Queen, love," you heaved for breath in warning, still backing him up. "They've planned this."

"Finan!" Osferth barked, "These men have been here before!"

The Saxon roared over the fray, "Danes of Rumcofa have murdered our Queen!" His men jeered in anger, making Finan brandish both swords and for Osferth to push you back further from the attention. "Do your duty and rid the cockles from the wheat!"

You were left no choice. Osferth and you both armed yourselves, starting to fight off the Saxons as their leader demanded Danes and Christians be separated. You were unable to help, engaged in battle, but Young Uhtred gathered the Danes and begged Father Benedict to declare the church a sanctuary - thinking it would save lives.

It was only leading the Danes to slaughter.

The Saxon, Bresal, punched Father Benedict when he tried to stand in the way; his men holding Young Uhtred in the doorway to let their men enter the church the Danes were gathered in. They forced Young Uhtred to watch the massacre - men, women, and Danish children all slaughtered with no escape. No hope. No answer to a single prayer. Nobody to stop this bloody situation.

You fought on, Osferth, Finan, and Cynleaf doing their best to protect you by keeping you in the middle of their wee group. But you still got plenty of action.

"This is madness!" You cried out, slicing a man's throat open. "We need aid! We need more men!"

"This way!" Finan encouraged, "We must cut a path for Ingrith! Check the docks! Check the docks!"

You and Osferth ran towards the water, Cynleaf not far away. You searched for Ingrith, but you had no time to linger; engaged one-on-one again, forced to protect yourself and unborn baby. Not a minute later, you saw Ingrith on horseback, being stalled by a Saxon and for your husband to rush to her aid. He punched the man away from the horse, you hacking at another enemy, in time to see Osferth engaging with two Saxons - one being the leader, Bresal.

It all happened so fast.

You were already racing towards them when the unexpected. Osferth was battling on two fronts, holding Bresal at bay, fending off the other Saxon, screaming for Ingrith, who only managed a few paces before the Saxon's dogs spooked her horse. The noise was deafening; people screaming, crying, dogs barking, horses whinnying, swords singing as they clashed.

You watched it happen in slow motion.

You sprinted faster than ever before.

"INGRITH!" Osferth bellowed in worry when her horse reared back and dropped her to the dirt. It left an opening for Bresal to stab his dagger into Osferth's lung - freezing time and wrecking your world.

"NO!" You screamed, Bresal smirking at you and yanking his dagger free. Osferth wobbled, eyes wide as he met yours, the Saxon walking away as Osferth dropped to his knees. "No, no, no, no, no, no, no! Oh, God, no, no, you can't take him - not yet! Please, no, no, no, no, no, no, no, no," You repeated, sliding on your knees in the dirt to catch him. "No, no, oh, my God, no, Osferth, no, please! Not now, not now, please, no, God, no! Don't do this! Please, please, please," you rambled, readjusting to better hold him, hearing Cynleaf and Finan yell for Baby Monk, too. You raged at God, "You can't take him yet! You can't have him! He's mine!"

But you heard nothing except your husband's labored breathing.

"An-Angel, angel, my angel," Osferth choked, wheezing and crying as he couldn't hold himself up and completely slumped back into your body. He pawed at your arms in an attempt to get closer.

"No, no, no, you're all right, you're okay, you're okay, my sweet love, you're all right," you insisted, hands stained in his blood as it poured from his wound. You knew it was essential to add pressure to a wound, but also, that this was all futile. Yet you needed to try. "Hey, hey, hey, look at me, just look at me, sweetheart, please, only look at me, nothing else matters," you pleaded with him in a rush, the lads sprinting to where you held your husband to your lap.

Nobody interrupted you.

"Where's the wound?" Osferth sobbed, trembling, blood spurting from his mouth; going paler by the minute. "Angel, please, the wound? Where's the wound?"

"No, no, no, don't worry 'bout that, hey? Don't you worry, you just keep looking at me," you sobbed, holding his neck and cradling him to your swollen belly. "Just at me, my love, okay? Just look at me - don't look anywhere else, okay? Nothing else matters."

"H-How bad? How ba-ba-bad-bad is i-it?"

"You're going to be all right," you lied to Osferth for the first time.

"Oh, my God, oh, my God," Osferth repeated through his tears and fears, "I'm gonna die, I'm gonna die."

He held onto you desperately, sobbing, you slowly rocking. "No, you're all right, Osferth, it's okay, just look at me." You caressed his cheek, smearing blood, but locking eyes. "My love," you whispered, "listen to me - "

"I don't wanna die, please, please, angel, my love, please," he coughed, holding your arm tightly as if it would give him life. "Don't let me die," he wheezed, "don't let me die, my love, please, please. Don't let me die, I don't wanna die. I-I wanna meet our baby, please, I want to meet our baby, I want to be a father. Don't let me die, love, please, I-I wanna be your husband longer - "

"You'll never not be my husband and you'll never not be a father, hear me?" You sniffled, trying to smile at him. "Don't you worry, you're gonna be okay, you're okay, Osferth. You'll always be my husband, nothing will change that - I swear."

Blood pumped with each beat of his frantic heart, making it gush over your fingers. You didn't even feel it.

"Please," he choked, more blood bubbling from his lips, "don't let me die, I don't wanna die. Don't let me die, please, not now, not when our baby isn't here yet, please, I just wanna meet 'em, be a family, I wanna stay with you, don't let me go. Please, don't let me go, I don't want t'go! Don't let me - "

"Shh, it's okay, you're okay. I'm here with you. I'm right here, Osferth, you're not alone, you're never alone. I'm here. I've got you. I'll always have you, I won't ever let you go. Never."

He sobbed harder. "I don't wanna leave you. Please, I don't wanna go, I don't wanna be without you - " But the words choked him, a splatter spraying across your face when he coughed; you didn't even flinch.

"Listen to me," you begged, "I commend you, my dear, sweet husband, to Almighty God, and entrust you to your Creator."

Finan was heard behind you, retching jarring sobs as you read Osferth his death rite prayer. "Don't let me die," Osferth begged still, as if you held that power.

He had always looked at you as if you hung the sun and stars, and now, as if you were his very reason for living. You hated God in that moment for forcing you two through this.

"May you return to Him who formed you from the dust of the earth. May Holy Mary, the angels," now, you choked on your words, emotion clawing your throat, but still continued, "and all the saints come to meet you as you go forth from this life. May Christ who was crucified for you bring you freedom and peace." You sobbed, "May Christ who died for you admit you into His garden of paradise. May Christ, the true Shepherd, acknowledge you as one of His flock. May He forgive all your sins, and set you among those He has chosen. Amen. Please, please, say amen, Osferth, say it, please!"

"A-Amen - Amen!" He coughed, trying to get closer to you, nestling into your warmth as he felt impossibly cold. "Don't leave me, don't leave me, please, please, I don't wanna go, I don't wanna be alone. I can't go without you, please, don't let me go - don't let me die, angel, please, I can't go without you. I-I’ve never been without you my whole life, I don’t wish to start now. I love you. I-I love you, please, don't let me go, I love you. I need you."

"You'll never be without me," you promised, face coated in blood, grime, dirt, and ash; all streaked with your tear tracks. "You will always be my husband, hey? Hear me? You're always gonna be with me, I will never be apart from you. I'll love you forever, Osferth, I won't ever stop." You felt your chest cave in as you sobbed, "Please, don't you leave me - "

But Osferth was wheezing and panting, only staring up at you. "I only need you," he whimpered, "I've only ever needed you, I can't do this without you. Please, I can't - I can't go without you. I don't want to leave you, I can't leave you, please!'

"So don't leave me," you sobbed, him still clawing at you in desperation. "I love you more than life, Osferth, please, don't leave me, okay? Don't go. I love you so much. Being loved by you was my greatest pleasure in this life, I want our child to know your love, too, Osferth, please, don't go."

"I-I wanna meet our baby, I wanna hold 'em, love 'em," he repeated. "Please, this can't be the end, don't let this be the end. W-We have so much more - we were supposed to have eternity together, my love, my angel, please! This isn't the end, I can't - I can't go without you!"

"You're okay," you soothed uselessly, rocking more prominently. "Just stay with me, my love, okay? Stay with me. Don't go. Only look at me, all right? You hear me?" You sniffled, caressing his cheek. "You're the best thing in my life, Osferth, yeah? Understand me? Where you're going, y-you'll be welcomed a hero, with open arms. You'll be my own angel. My real angel. The reason I keep going for our child. An-And you'll stay there just for a little while until I join you, okay? You'll watch over us, me and the baby, right? Our own angel? Hey? 'Cause you'll never be part from us - you'll never be apart from me. You and I are a forever sorta thing, we'll never be apart, we'll always be part of each other no matter what."

Osferth lost his words, eyes widening and pulling you closer.

You just soothed, "I'm here with you, my love. I'm here, I've got you. You're not alone, I'm right here, I have you. I've got you. I love you. I love you so fucking much, Osferth, okay? I love you more than anything, you're my everything. I love you," you sniffled, breaking down in worse sobs, repeating, "I love you, I love you, I love you so much, I'm so sorry, I'm so sorry I wasn't faster, I love you, this shouldn't be happening. I'm so sorry, I should've come faster! I love you, I'm so sorry."

With his last breath, Osferth choked, "L-Love y-y-you."

"I love you," you hushed, bending at the waist to rest your forehead on his, "I love you so much. You're gonna be okay, you're gonna be all right, you'll be safe - where you're going, you'll be safe. I'm so sorry, my love... I'm so sorry."

You felt him go still. You felt the last of his breath exhale, his body deflate. You felt his soul detach from his body.

You froze.

"Oh, my God," you breathed, pulling back to look down at his petrified features. "Oh, my God, no, no, no. God, please, please, give him back," you sobbed, "give him back to me! Do not take him! It's not his time, you selfish cunt! Give him back! It wasn't supposed to end like this! Give him back to me, please! Please! This isn't how this was supposed to happen! We promised eternity together, please! Let us have that! Let us be together, give him back to me! I need him!"

Your shrill hysterics were heard all over Rumcofa.

Finan sobbed into his wife's arms behind you, Cynleaf knelt to slowly extend his hand onto your shoulder. "I'm so sorry," he offered, but you pushed him away harshly; knocking him into the dirt.

"No! I don't want your fucking condolences!" You snapped, holding Osferth tighter, "I want my husband! I want my husband back! Can you give him to me? Can you, Cynleaf? Can you give him back to me!?"

"No - "

"Then you have nothing to offer me! I want nothing else, nothing from you! I only want him!" You looked away from the young lad, finding Osferth's wide open eyes staring up at you. You whimpered, "I only need him, so, please. Please, give him back to me. Please. I need him, I need him, I can't do this without him, please, God, don't do this. You take so many lives, why add him to the mix!? Give him back! C'mon," you begged the cooling body, "c'mon, love, get up. Get up for me, please, just wake up. Come back to me, get up... Get up, Osferth, get up! Please! WAKE UP!"

But Osferth never moved. Never blinked. Never drew breath. And God never answered your pleas. Your dress was saturated in your husband's blood; a pooling puddle seeping into your knees, bodice drenched, his baby moving in your belly. You wailed into the still air, holding your husband tight to your chest; mouth agape to release the terrible screams of anguish, tears never ending, rocking on your knees. You didn't know what to feel... But devastation was prominent.

You wept until your throat went raw, jaw tender from your open mouth. "I'm so sorry!" You repeated, "I should've been quicker! I should've been at your side! You shouldn't have been alone! This is my fault! This is all my fault, I shouldn't have been away from you. I should've been with you, you did not deserve this end. Please! Forgive me, wherever you are, forgive me, I did not intend for this, I shouldn't have left you, I should've been at your side, I'm so sorry. This is all my fault, I'm so sorry."

"No," Ingrith whispered, "no, do not say this is your fault, you did nothing - "

"Exactly!" You snapped at her, eyes ablaze, her husband silent. "I did nothing, I wasn't with him! I wasn't where I was supposed to be! And he was stabbed because of you!"

Finan whispered your name in reprimand.

"No! How many times have you rode a fucking horse, Ingrith!? And now, today, the time it truly matters, you fall; you posed distraction," you sobbed, crumpling in on yourself. "He was distracted by your fall... This shouldn't've happened, this is all wrong!"

The trio just watched you, knowing your emotions were raw and unwavering, that your words did not have meaning because your husband had just died in your arms. Hours passed, you did not move. Hours passed, your husband did not return. Hours passed, and your heart shattered with each passing breath you selfishly drew.

Because living felt selfish now without Osferth.

"Sweet one," Finan whispered, the sun setting, "we should move him. Bring him to the church so Benedict can pray."

Your head shook, "No."

"Darlin', we have to - "

"No," you whimpered, "because if you take him to Benedict, it's real. If we move, he's truly gone... He can't be gone, Finan," you sobbed, meeting your friend's eyes. "If you move him, he's gone, I'm not ready to say goodbye, please. Please, don't take him from me."

"I'm so sorry," he whispered, "but he should be laid to rest."

"Don't take him from me," you begged, a new wave of tears starting. "I just - we were supposed to be a family. We were supposed to have this baby, and now, it's just me? This cannot be, so please, don't take him from me, I only need him back. Give him back to me, Finan, please, I can't be without him."

"I know," he nodded, gently encouraging you into his embrace. It meant you had to let go of Osferth, something you did slowly and gradually, leaning into the Irishman's chest. "All right, I got yah," he whispered, looking to his wife. "C'mon, stand with Ingrith. I'll carry him."

"Be gentle," you sobbed, feeling Ingrith grip your arms to help heave you to your feet; watching Finan scoop Osferth over his shoulder. The change of position made more blood splatter to the dirt, your heart stalling in your chest when you heard the mess.

You felt your soul shriveled and hidden somewhere deep in your chest, following as if in a trance. You watched Finan and Cynleaf slowly lower Osferth to the ground with the other dead Danes, feeling yourself drop to the ground in shock.

Seeing Osferth amongst the dead made it so much more real.

"It's all my fault," you sobbed, Finan moving to your side, "it's all my fault, I got him killed. I should've been quicker. This is my fault, my fault, I did this, 's my fault."

Finan knelt beside you, bringing your foreheads together to hold you tightly and let you sob into his embrace. "You didn't do this," he promised, "you did nothing wrong. You are not at fault. Do not carry this guilt."

You sobbed without reprieve.

Young Uhtred halted Father Benedict from praying over the Danes, telling the older man they had different customs, but looked back at you. He asked your name softly, wondering, "Do you wish for a prayer for... Him?"

Even Young Uhtred couldn't stomach the truth, avoiding using Osferth's name out of sheer disbelief.

"That'd be nice," Finan agreed, turning to sit beside you and hold you under his arm. You leaned into his embrace, head to his shoulder. "She read him his death rites when... It happened."

Young Uhtred nodded, bowing his head, leading, "Our Father, Who art in heaven, Hallowed be Thy Name. Thy Kingdom come, Thy Will be done, On earth as it is in Heaven. Give us this day, our daily bread, And forgive us our trespasses, as we forgive those who trespass against us. And lead us not into temptation, but deliver us from evil."

Then, you joined from under Finan's heavy arm, sobbing through your words, "Hail Mary, Full of Grace, The Lord is with thee. Blessed art thou among women, and blessed is the fruit of thy womb, Jesus. Holy Mary, Mother of God, pray for us sinners, now, and at the hour of our death."

Benedict finished, "Glory Be to the Father, and to the Son, and to the Holy Spirit. As it was in the beginning, is now, and ever shall be, world without end."

Together, you, Ingrith, Young Uhtred, Benedict, Finan, and even Cynleaf ended, "Amen."

Feeling the most level-headed, Ingrith stepped in and directed the men; informing that Young Uhtred should lead the remaining Danes to Daneland, Finan and Cynleaf would meet Uhtred on the road, and she would accompany you to Wessex - where Osferth could be laid to rest at the place of his birth. Then, the people mourned together for their fallen.

Finan disagreed initially, telling his wife you were his responsibility now that Osferth was passed. But there was no way you could continue with the company, not in your pregnant state. Finan didn't like the idea of you being without him, considering you close to a sister; something of a best mate, someone he couldn't turn his back on - no matter the situation. However, he understood the predicament and finally agreed to part ways, but not before he untied Osferth's crucifix and latched it around your neck. At the gates of Rumcofa, before separating, Finan gifted you his rosary; thinking it might bring comfort in his physical absence.

Years from then, you would bring up a single son named Gabriel (a name your husband favored, a name benefitting an Angel) under Lord Uhtred in his birthplace of Bebbanburg. You never remarried. You never even so much as looked after another man with lust. Gabriel would grow into a handsome warrior and a devoted man of God, satisfied on tales about his father; being painted as a man of honor, integrity, and bravery. Osferth, too, was a man of God, a man of the sword, and a man of his word... Until the very end. And when your time came, you were brought back to Wessex to be laid to rest with your husband; your son having a son, naming him Osferth, and knowing, both his parents shined down on him in pride.

It was a comfort for everyone to know, somewhere in the afterlife, in God's warmth, you and Osferth were reunited; looking just as you did the day you parted from one another.

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