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undercoverpena · 1 month

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8. dark olive

frankie morales x f!reader | chapter eight of do me yourself

summary: a meet-cute in a hardware store? impossible, out of the question. except, that's exactly what happens. a need for screws leads you to a broad-shouldered, brown-eyed man who you're sure is about to change your day, never mind your life.

wordcount: 3.9k chapter warnings: frankie calls you 'rainy' (paint-related from chp.1) no other descriptions or name used. no use of y/n. frankie being a good dad. bad tool names. frankie has a little panic attack as he shares canon things. an: this one would be called the revelation.

prev chapter | series masterlist

key: frankie is in bold, you are in italics

Rounding the corner, hands pushing the cart, you spot him immediately. Hands busy, comparing two types of tape in the middle of the aisle he’d left your side for.

Fuck, the tape looks so small in his hands.

A thought you're quick to shake out, eyes glazing past items on the shelves as you wander to him.

This store is so different from the one you met him in—the one he works in. Even if the circumstances feel oddly similar. Him, down an aisle; you, hopelessly and completely out of your comfort zone, still struggling to understand what it is you're here for.

It also smells different here. The place is a lot brighter, the lights above gleaming—newer, more LED than bulb—and the floor has little to no stains. You’d also noticed that the paint tins live across several aisles, with more colours than you thought possible.

Mostly, you miss Harold.

Oddly, for saying you’d rarely been there, you feel like you’re cheating on him. Almost betraying Harold's Hardware by being inside this larger, more fancier store.

A thing which tugs at the corner of your lips when you come to a stop near him. Finding Frankie turning his chin, wearing a puzzled look across his ridiculously handsome face. One that almost makes you break out into a smile, instead choosing to drag your tongue across your bottom lip as you inhale—trying not to let your eyes drop from his loose curls to his dark jeans.

“Do you feel like you’re cheating?” you ask, voice dropping as you come to a stop next to him, watching as he simultaneously places one tape back and one in the cart as he moves around to where your forearms are resting. “Because we’re shopping in a store that isn’t yours.”

Sliding his fingers under your chin as you straighten, making it easier to slide his mouth over yours.

Smirking, you bite your lip. “I feel like he’s going to know—Harold. He’ll smell it on you.”

“He’s not a vampire.”

“Could be. Instead of blood, it’s wood chippings and—”

Fingers crawling up your cheek, you catch the whisper of shh before he kisses you.

An attempt made to steal your breath, a thing you allow him to take willingly, practically handing him all you have in your lungs as your smirk and thoughts fade. At the feel of his hand sliding around you, you melt. Hands sliding from the cart to his face, feeling the fuzz of his hair against your palm, the smile that adorns his face against your mouth as you do all you can to hold back a moan in the middle of a tool and supplies aisle.

“Morales,” you warn as your mouth parts from his, catching the sound of him groaning—even from the back of his throat.

Tongue peeking through his teeth he snorts. “Morales? Ay?”

“Butterscotch in the sheets, Morales in the streets.”

Even if he shakes his head, you spot how soft his eyes are—all adorned with mischief, love. A sight you can't get over as it does a good job of making your heart flutter, especially as he continues to stroke your cheek—his calloused thumb dragging back and forth in gentle movements.

One he woke you up with the other day; one he does when he can tell your heart is racing quicker than your worries.

Fuck, you like him.

A lot.

His thumb still drags along your cheek as you think as much, as he sighs—all faint, with ease. As though he’s thinking something similar. Or maybe, you're just hoping.

“I think it's our little secret,” he murmurs.

His hand slides down, brushes down your body before he reaches for another item on the shelf. Not even looking—just knowing.

And, for the third time since being in here, it makes you warm. Makes you hot. It makes you want to drag him back to his truck and ask him to park it somewhere out of sight.

“What?”

“Nothing,” you smile, hands finding the cart again. “I just…”

“You just?”

Running your tongue over your teeth, you lift your chin. “I don’t know how you just… do things, sometimes. You’re so—”

“Handsome?”

“—Competent.”

Narrowing his eyes, he tries not to smirk. You can tell. Giving you that look—the one he gave you in your kitchen, in the aftermath of when he almost choked on his juice, when you said you had breakfast he could eat. Meaning eggs. Even if the two of you burnt them doing something far more fun.

“Do you like that, Rainy?” You try not to warm at the pet name, at the nickname that’s grown to have more meaning than your own. “That I’m competent?”

Grabbing the cart, you nudge it into him. “Stop.”

Smirking, he winks, adding a noted before he begins leading you. The two of you weave through the aisles, mundane items ending up in the cart—the mess of things all rolling around the metal frame. On occasion, he mumbles something before scratching his forehead with the back of his hand, while you hover, not at all sure if he's naming a product or just making up words.

And, you just admire.

Completely in awe as he calculates something and then looks at you—like you’re the answer. Or because he knows now that it somehow turns you on.

“Have I told you how pretty you look today?”

Rolling your lips, you shake your head, watching him add more things to buy.

“Twice, actually.”

Pulling a face, and moving closer, he hooks a finger around the loop of your jeans. “Doesn’t feel enough.”

“No?”

Shaking his head, you stare at him—right into his eyes, falling into them. “We should go pay.”

He smiles at you, the corners of his lips curling into something more as he nods his head and leads you to pay—joining an empty checkout.

"Same time next week?" he asks.

“Are you making these hardware dates with me a regular thing?”

“Why not? Maybe we can visit them all—I know some guys take girls to new cities or towns, but I wanna show you all the hardware stores.”

Laughing, you watch him empty everything, shooting you a grin each time he grabs something else from the cart until it empties.

Then, you bite the inside of your cheek when he goes to grab his wallet, fumbling for it. Your eyes spot it, that line—the one you love to smooth out with your palm—and how it begins to deepen. Moving from your place as you slide your phone out, ass brushing against him as you mumble that you’ll get this one.

It’s only when you hear the distinct beep of the payment, that you look over your shoulder. “You didn’t lose it,” you announce, watching him pause, face smoothing out. “Your wallet.”

Hands pause on the back of his jeans, he stops.

“It’s here,” you continue, patting the pocket of your jacket, “But, I’ll let you buy me lunch if you want?”

The cashier chuckles, hearing it, distantly, something about your girlfriend is funny—even if you’re focused on him, on how his eyes soften and his lips have curled into a grin.

We should think about constructing your shelving soon.

Good afternoon to you too, baby. That sounds fun. How do we do that?

Hello baby. I’m thinking, as it’s entirely bespoke that we get some drawers from IKEA, but the shelves above we make ourselves.

Does this mean you’re going to show me how to use power tools?

Yeah, sure. Probably be safer at mine, then I can transport them over to yours when we’re done?

Sounds good to me. So, an IKEA date?

Yeah. That can be next week's Hardware trip.

Oh, how you spoil me.

You know it, hermosa.

I still need to pick a paint, right?

Yes, you thought about any of the swatches you’ve done?

Frankie answers in record speed, your back leaning against the wall—staring at the now smooth wall the two of you had gotten pristine.

“Thought this would be easier.”

“Admit you missed my voice.”

Fighting a groan at the sound of the way he lowered his voice, you flex your toes in your socks. “You’re getting awfully big-headed, Butterscotch.”

Snorting, you hear a crash from his end of the phone, and the distinct sound of the phone being brought away before he shouts to Luca.

“Is he okay?”

“He’s building the equivalent of Jurassic World in my living room.”

Smirking, you lick your lips. “You sound thrilled.”

“Tim and Vinnie needed a home. And, it’s cruel of Daddy to make them homeless—”

Nodding, you glance at the swatches as you listen. Eyes flicking over taupes and golden yellows, over soft pinks and sea blues, but you keep being drawn back to one shade each time.

One that makes you linger, before gazing away from it—hesitant, somehow. The reasoning is half-known, yet you don’t want to unfold or unravel it properly.

Because you know why you like it—why you’re drawn to it.

Why it makes you want to smile, why it makes you feel at ease and calm, safe—

“—Is that your friend, Daddy?”

“Luca—”

“Hello, Daddy’s friend!”

His voice, all little and high-pitched—almost out of breath, as you imagine him running—makes your heart flicker, managing to croak back a, “Hi there.”

“My name is Luca and I’m—Daddy no—”

Your hand comes up to your mouth, grinning behind your fingers as you hear giggles and little screams. Frankie’s voice jokingly calls out that he’s a little monster—the phone clanging and clattering before the most joyous sound of two laughs blending into one before you’re picked up from whatever place you’d fallen to.

“I’m back.”

“Hi, baby.”

Sighing, he apologises, “Where were we?”

“Olive green. I like olive green.”

He makes a noise, one that you can’t help but think he’s surprised by.

“What—green is growing on me,” you add.

And he makes a different noise, one you suspect is married to a smile—a grin. One you’re pretty sure you’re mirroring neighbourhoods away, as you hear Luca in the background cheer at the sound of another crash.

So, I know you mentioned us going out for dinner tonight, but I wondered if I could interest you in something else.

I’m intrigued.

Well, you said you were still sore from training yesterday with Ben and I know you’ve been doing extra at the store, so how about UNO and pizza?

Baby, I promised you I’d take you out.

And you are. From my kitchen counter to my living room.

Is this what you really want?

Yes. Please.

I'm starting to think you don't like going out.

Why would I want to share you with more eyes, Morales?

Let me bring pizza then.

I guess I can agree to that.

Throwing down the last card, cheering, you watch him scowl—the few UNO cards he had left thrown down onto the table as you grab another slice of pizza. Wearing your win on your face, letting it descend like mist to your shoulders, hips as you do a little wiggle—all cross-legged on your living room floor.

He, on the other hand, huffed in faux annoyance, a glint in his eyes—the corners of his mouth twitching upwards. “Best out of three?” he proposes, already reaching forward and shuffling the deck with a smirk.

“You know you’ve lost two already.”

“Best out of seven then.”

And so, the game continues. Frankie on your sofa, leaning forward over the coffee table—surrounded by the remnants of pizza and scattered UNO cards. The glow from your lamp cascaded over the room, his curls teased and pulled on as he lost another game.

“Alright, cheat. Last round,” he declares.

As the game unfolds, you can't help but feel so incredibly happy. Just being here, with him. It's a simple night, nothing fancy, yet it feels more special than any other night with any other people.

You don’t even mind that he wins the last round, rolling your eyes at the triumphant grin on his face. “Told you I could beat you,” he gloats, gathering up the cards.

You roll your eyes, but there's a smile on your face. "Alright, alright, don't let it get to your head," you tease, unfolding your legs as you stand, grabbing the plates and napkins.

After everything is tidied up, you both settle down on the couch, snuggling into each other. His arm wraps around you, pulling you close to his side. You rest your head on his shoulder, letting out a content sigh.

“Thank you for tonight,” he murmurs, pressing a kiss to the top of your head.

You look up at him, a soft smile on your face. “I had a great time.”

“Because you won?”

“Because I won.”

He swallows, shaking his head lightly as he stares at you—as you purse your lips and think about throwing your legs up over his. Heart doing a steady skip, the longer you stare, mouth opening to ask if he wants to stay when his opens and beats you to it.

“I want you to meet Luca.”

Face softening, your eyes widen to match the smile spreading over your face. “Yeah? You do?”

Nodding, he runs his knuckles over your chin. “I talked to Sam—Samantha. ‘Cause I wanted to make sure she was okay with it, y’know?”

“Of course! I wouldn’t… I wouldn’t want to do it without her being okay with it.”

Smiling, his hand drops to your knee, drawing a square. “You’re also… the first person,” he adds, nose scrunching as the words wash over you.

“Oh. Well, Frankie, I’d love to meet him. When you’re ready.”

His eyes drop, and you feel it—the air shift, something changing—before he clears his throat again. Retracing his hand, the heel of his palm runs across his forehead, and your heart’s pattern changes, and alters.

A dread falls out, sliding down over your skin, cooling the warmth that had been steadily growing all evening.

“But,” he swallows, fingers brushing over your knee. “I need to tell you something first.”

It’s quiet, the okay that escapes. That slithers out and spreads its fingers towards him. A panic rising in you, twisting—knotting. It makes you want to clear your throat, swallow, and do all you can to make it shift, but you can feel it pulsing, waiting.

Swallowing again, you spot Frankie’s hands twitching nervously. "Remember I told you about when I helped a friend—the dangerous thing?”

Eyes flicking, watching his hand lock over the other—fingers moving back and forth, scratching, eyes on you like a hawk as you nod, bracing yourself.

“Well…”

And it falls out of him. Listening, even over your racing heart—taking it in, as much as you can, more than bits and pieces, but not confident the full thing is reaching your brain.

You match the names of his friends to the ones you met, two shadows forming in the picture he paints—briefly wondering if they were in the photo at his, if they were people you’d heard about before, and never known. Hearing names like Ironhead and Pope, not realising until a second later explanation of who they were.

The more he spills, the more panicked his voice becomes—the more breath he attempts to take in. As though it's been shoved somewhere inside of him, crammed in a space too large, it bursting out of him now. All visibly affecting him, making his hand continue to scratch, nails digging deeper into the other. Red lines appear, clawing into the back of his hand as he continues on, and on—

“Frankie, you don’t have to tell me.”

“I do, baby. I do because—” he chokes, a sob there—likely bubbling and unwilling to burst in his throat, eyes shimmering, swimming in unspent tears, “—I made a rushed call, and… and my friend—“

“Frankie.”

“He died.”

It feels like you’ve been hit in the chest.

A hand reaching in, twisting in past your ribs. A tightness that had been turning and shifting, suddenly explodes, leaving you breathless. Your mouth falls open, thoughts empty as you simply stare, blinking.

Not because of what he said, but because you knew it before he said it. Before he confesses the next thought, which you had a feeling had been eating him alive since he first began—

“And it was my fault.”

Your heart breaks, shatters for him.

Worsened by the way his words catch on his teeth as he shakes his head, as a tear falls down his cheek—as his nails continue to scratch, and scratch, more words tumbling out from his tongue.

The weight of his confession presses down on you, a suffocating force that threatens to crush your spirit. The air is heavy in the room, charged with sorrow and regret, his eyes encased in torment as his skin begins to peel apart—a raw wound laid bare, both metaphorically and literally.

“—and if I hadn’t crash landed, if I hadn’t taken the shot, if I hadn’t—“

If I hadn’t. If I hadn’t.

If I hadn’t.

The words are balled up, dropping out—followed by other things. Failings, all of them. Ones that have rippled inside of him for longer than you care to think about; them all likely rotted, become a mass of heavy regrets that have clung to the inside of his chest.

You whisper his name, but it’s like calling out a person in the centre of a stadium full of noise.

It’s swallowed, smothered. Barely reached his ears as you want to reach out and touch him, to centre him, bring him back to you. In all the ways he does so with you.

“—It's why I couldn’t fly, why I took the job, why… she left me.” His eyes snap to you, all clear, focused—unlike they’d been a moment ago. “You deserve to know—to choose, to know who you're with. ‘cause I fuck up. I fucked up and I took a man from his kids. I lost my head, I just needed to get out and I—”

Eyes flicking to his hand, you stand up, all suddenly, forcing his voice to trail off as he stares up at you. The room falls quiet as big, brown weeping eyes watch you shift your weight from side to side.

He looks lost, floating in a sea of pain that’s drowning him, that he can’t kick up from as he tries to keep swimming.

And he says your name. All broken, the edges of it chipped—cracked and fractured.

It’s quick, the way you mumble one minute before moving into your kitchen. The way you scramble for the green box, knocking over bottles of cleaning products and bleach as you hear him crumble, as the sound worms in your chest and cracks you. Hearing it, the distinct sound of shit and the way he curses himself for fucking up.

You barely shut the cupboard behind you when you’re moving back to him, seeing him panicked, gasping for breath between sobs. Sorries echoing, vibrating out. They're all a mashing of words and syllables, yet you can discern every single one as you drop back beside him.

Watching him try to shift away, your hand grabs his—quicker, smothering out over the one that sits on top of the one he’s scratched.

“Breathe. In, and out.”

Your name slithers out, between gasps and shakes.

“In for four, that’s it—then we hold for seven, like me—and exhale. Good. Again.”

Watching him come down, settle—ease falling out over him as you hold his hand, grip it, hold him so tight so he knows you’re not going anywhere.

“You don’t have to—”

“I just needed to get this,” you soothe, grabbing the first aid kit, placing it between the two of you. “You… you’ve cut yourself, baby.”

Swallowing, he blinks—either at the name, or the softness of your tone—before he glances down.

“Fuck.”

“It’s okay,” you say, a double meaning.

Opening the kit, pulling out antiseptic and bandages, feeling him watch you as you gently clean his wounds, his breath hitching when the antiseptic stings, but he doesn't pull away. Not even when you ask if he's talked to someone, or when he nods, when he explains that he had to, that he hadn't been able to sleep and he was worried about having a baby overnight.

Frankie doesn't move even after you’ve cleaned it, or when you softly bandage it. Your fingers move with precision, all the while careful not to press too hard.

When you're done, you let your hand linger on his, your thumb gently rubbing over the bandages. You meet his gaze, seeing nothing but pain—wishing you could light a flicker of hope, do something to ease it.

“I need you to hear me say something, Frankie. Can you do that or would you prefer I wait?" you ask, voice steady, even though your heart pounds in your chest.

Waiting. Waiting.

Waiting.

Swallowing, he averts his eyes. “Yeah. I can hear it."

Your heart falls in your chest. “Frankie, I'm not ending it." You reassure, thankful his head shifts to face you. “Baby, whatever happened, it happened. It doesn't—it doesn’t change things for me. Doesn’t change the person I know. I know it’s a part of your story, a thing I can never heal for you, and I know there's likely more there, but you don't need to tell me. I don't need to know the whole thing.”

His eyes don't leave yours, and you see them fill with tears again. But this time, there's relief in them, too. Your hand lightly brushes over the bandage.

“Because what I do know is how much I like getting to know you. I know how Ben talked about you—how good Will said you were, are. I know what person I’ve been seeing, so, I don’t feel any different, about you—about us. Okay?”

Nodding, chewing his tongue for a moment, he slowly pulls you into a hug, burying his face in your neck. And, you hold him just as tight—hand stroking his back, feeling his tears on your skin. How his breathing steadies, and becomes more regular.

Only when he loosens his grip do you pull away slightly. Seeing enough to catch his face, how he's looking at you with such raw gratitude and vulnerability that it makes your chest ache. Pressing your forehead to his, closing your eyes as you take it in, you lay a soft kiss on his mouth, taking a moment, letting it all settle.

And then you clear your throat. “But, you are really bad at UNO.”

He snorts, eyes closed, fingers pinching the bridge of his nose.

“Like really bad—maybe the worst person I’ve ever played UNO with—”

Grabbing you, almost tickling you, he half-smiles, somehow having shifted himself to be above you, pressing you into your sofa cushions. “Yeah, alright”

Smiling up at him, you flick your eyes from his to his lips. “Do you want to stay and make me eggs in the morning?”

Rolling his lips, he takes a deep breath, before slowly nodding. "If that's okay?"

"I'd like you to."

Baby, you were fast asleep when I had to get up for work, so I made you a thank-you-for-listening-to-me-omelette. The recipe was complex, with lots of various thanks woven into it, so I hope you like it. I also spotted my brand of coffee in your cupboard, I’m trying to stop grinning at that, so I’ll try and call on my break if you want—so you can remind me how bad I am at UNO.

I just woke up, so I’m going to hunt down this omelette that definitely didn’t need to be made from thank-you-eggs.

Okay, first report, your omelette is almost as good as your coffee. Which yes, I bought.

Starting to think you really like me, Rainy.

I might do, Butterscotch.

NEXT CHAPTER ->

AN: hope we're all doing okay

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kedsandtubesocks · 2 months

Text

be your hallowed ground

Demon!Ezra x F!Reader

summary: 1700’s. the journey home before you is long, weary, and you are alone… but not for long

warnings/tags: 18+ ONLY MDNI. colonial era inspired AU, inexperienced!reader, religiously raised reader, historical/societal period negative views of women, major supernatural elements, religious discussions along with Christian imagery & mentions of scripture, Ezra’s use of petnames, heavy corruption kink, possessive!Ezra, finger sucking, wound kissing and one small moment of blood consumption, Ezra lifts reader with his demon strength (reader has no physical description), intense kissing & spicy moments, f!oral receiving, light overstimulation, briefest mention of Ezra watching/stalking, sacrilegious themes, dark & spooky vibes

word count: 7.9k

a/n: so this is my first Ezra fic & i blame this AU on my ex catholic school kid roots along with playing too much cult of the lamb bcs here we are lol I wouldn’t be here without the ones who paved the way/inspired me to take the jump to write Ezra so thank you @morallyinept @julesonrecord & @lowlights for being true lovely guides, also to @pastelle-rabbit @haylzcyon & @ahauntedcowboy for letting me scream/cry about this lol I love each & every one of y’all - and to you, if you decide to take a peek and read, thank you so much ♡

The forest stretches out far, daunting.

Twilight glimmers on the last of her heels and you hope to return home soon. You can almost hear your father’s anger at your stubbornness for not staying at the inn for another night and for simply being on this journey in the first place. You should’ve saved up for a carriage ride home.

Now, alone in the woods, you fear the tree branches will soon reach down to claw you into their canopy cluster above.

Deeper and further you walk through the forest path. You haven’t prayed much recently. But you faintly remember words urging you to not fear the terror of night, nor the danger that prowls in the darkness, and you’re gently eased. You also think of the early spring blooms scattered among the town waiting for you.

Then a branch cracks behind you, the sound of someone stepping on it, and you stop.

The trek has been silent, eerily so. Not even bird chirps or the wind’s breeze has filled your space. Yet it now sounds like something approaches.

You whip around.

No one stands behind you. Only the dirt and dust linger in the air.

The woods must be clouding you with unnecessary dread. You’ve walked these roads alone before and you will walk them again even though the forest seems darker now.

Determined, and slightly frightened, you spin on your heels to quickly return on your journey.

“There you are, turtle dove.”

The voice startles you so suddenly you almost collapse. Strangely accented, the thick drawl flows heavy with a twang of someone from the wild southern territories.

Your heart beats fast like a petrified rabbit and your eyes snap towards the source of the voice.

Leaning against a large tree is the most exquisite man you ever believe to be crafted.

Dressed in a striking coat, a beautifully sharp nose and dark facial hair, he’s ethereal. You also spot the most interesting tuff of white blonde hair against his dark chestnut locks. What’s startling are his magnetic inky eyes staring at you.

“I don’t know you, good sir.” You politely reply.

The man smiles like a fox creeping around a chicken coop.

“Ezra is my given name, turtle dove. Now we’re no longer strangers.”

His name - Ezra.

Like his name suggests you wonder if maybe he’s here to provide aid, your personal blessing.

Yet his words flutter out duplicitous and heavy like something dangerous chains around them down.

“Then good day to you, sir.” You nod, a polite reply, and decide to withhold your name.

“May I accompany you on your journey?” He suggests surprisingly gentle, his words olive branch-like offers.

You ask him where he is even headed, and for what brings a well speaking, slightly suspicious, man as himself into these woods.

“The same as you, sweet bird,” Ezra replies simply. “We all have our journeys to be upon. Mine just happens to coincide with yours. A rather fortuitous blessing if I do say so myself.”

Your eyes narrow. Something scratches at the back of your mind urging you to keep walking and pay no heed to this man.

But then the wind picks up.

From a soft breeze it quickly transforms into the strangest howl, like a warning of the dangers lurking all around. In a slight panic your eyes survey your surroundings. This man might be a stranger, but having company might not be such a bad choice.

“Come now.” Ezra comments reassuring and steady even among the howling winds. “These woods are wild and deep, ain’t no place for a treasure such as yourself.”

He is handsome, the most stunning man you may ever see. And the glimmer in his eyes seems to beckon you.

After you quietly nod, your journey expands by one.

With a gracious bow of his head, the man from the shadows falls into step beside you.

The wind suddenly, but thankfully, settles. However, tension prickles against your skin and a strange warmth blooms from the center of your chest.

“So, what’s a lovely angel like yourself doing here, a babe in the woods?” Ezra begins.

Your fingers tighten against your cloak while the truth stays sealed tight.

The man chuckles.

“Don’t go shy on me now, sweet dove,” he teases.

You huff annoyed. However, seeing as how you will be traveling with him until you return home, you decide to engage with him.

Your dearest friend moved to the next town when you both became fully grown. She fell in love with a married man in a loveless marriage to a cruel woman. Because of that your friend was condemned to banishment. Now, she’s with child. Some even whisper the child was maybe even convinced due to witchcraft.

However, with the recent passing of your town’s relentless head clergyman, you hope this will help improve the situation.

Ezra listens patiently, letting you quietly explain everything.

“And so you traveled to visit your dear friend like a kind emissary.” He notes. “Your town must be in an uproar over you visiting her.”

“They are.” You answer stiffly.

Your father absolutely detests it. Even the governor’s son, who has shown interest in courting you, has made it known that your lenient position doesn’t help towards a marriage possibility. But you won't falter in your loyalty. Especially after your faith has been so shaken from seeing the harsh treatment given to your friend.

“A fair decision.” Ezra agrees. “All those upset are fools anyway. Seems they forgot the good book even mentions how cherished a gift it is to forgive others just as the lord forgives us.”

He quotes scripture so passively it surprises you. He doesn’t seem like a spiritual type. If anything, Ezra seems like a man who slinks around the shadows late at night among the thieves and brothels hidden at the edge of town.

“You’re right,” you agree with him. “Who are we to judge others on simple matters of passion compared to our lord, especially to condemn it?”

“Lust is considered a grave sin though, dear birdie, so I understand why.” He quietly answers while his words scurry over your skin. “After all, look at the predicament it entangled your dear friend in.”

“And don’t passions of the flesh wage war against the solemnity of the soul?” Ezra politely answers lightly referring to scripture and you wonder if he is a man devoted to the good book.

So you reserve your words again.

“Please… do not silence your song, biride.” Ezra coos.

“Now, tell me your thoughts,” he whispers low.

As you swallow hard, your skin feels tight against your bones. But you decide to speak freely, as dangerous as it may be.

“It’s true that my friend committed a terrible sin.” You begin with a shaky sigh. “I understand her punishment. But for others to be so cruel when faith says to forgive and embrace salvation feels hypocritical.”

“True indeed. And as you said, all this for the sake of condemning passion? There are worse commandments to shatter under heaven’s watchful eye.” Ezra drawls out.

“Exactly.” You agree with a firm nod more at ease with your new companion.

“Besides… isn’t the act of creation an offspring of passion?” He challenges and the thought stuns you.

The stranger is correct and his perception moves you.

You’ve never engaged in such discussions like this with anyone before, especially not with a man. You noticed he speaks to you like an equal, never diminishing your ideals or fully trampling on your opinions.

Something greedy urges you to slow down your step and spend as much time with your new companion.

“So, is there a husband of yours waitin’ at home to meet you with passions, dear dove?” Ezra asks with the curl of intrigue in his voice and you almost choke on a gasp.

“A rather forward question to ask a stranger.” You snap back sharply and glare at him.

Ezra keeps his abyss eyes drawn forward and doesn't seem bothering at your reply or the discussion matter he brought up.

“Thought we established we’re no longer strangers?” Your stranger mutters back.

“We’ve discussed religion, the ways of the hearts and their passions. Only good friends touch on such topics, yes?”

He’s unbearably confident, and he knows it. You want to storm off, maybe even demand him to leave. But you can’t do it. You almost can’t endure the thought of him leaving now.

So you reply stiffly. “No. I have no husband at home.”

“Truly?” He now squawks confused.

“Ain’t that a damn shame.” He purrs. “A creature lovely as yourself deserves to be worshiped every minute you’re here among this green earth.”

Your heart thumps erratic against its cage.

“Are you mocking me, good man Ezra, for not being married?” You deflect with a shaky voice.

“Never, turtle dove.” He reassures. “I believe the ultimate sin is to be denied any shade of passion.”

“Especially for a beauty marvelous as yourself.” He exhales and his voice dances devilishly.

An uneasiness settles into your legs, like your body could give out at any moment.

“What you say is blasphemy,” you manage to reply, however your voice wavers. “A heathen's words.”

“I could’ve recounted the same about you moments ago when you spoke your thoughts.” He mutters back.

Your heart drops. He’s correct. This man has your thoughts tied up in so many knots and you cannot find a path within yourself.

“No need to worry.” Ezra says. “Treading into heathen’s territory is never frightful when you have a companion.”

You don’t know how you feel about this conversation or where it seems to be heading towards. Your gaze turns to Ezra. He continues staring ahead composed.

He’s a strange unorthodox man, an anomaly, someone you never believed existed.

“Now tell me… have you tasted desire, my sweet turtle dove?”

His eyes now move to you, catching you staring red handed. Like an exposed thief, your gaze flies away from him.

His question, as if composed of thorns, constricts around your throat refusing to let you answer.

You’ve tasted it on the tips of your tongue. One of your old childhood friends became a courtesan at a brothel. During her nights off, you’d sneak out to visit her. She recounted with giggles about the various sexual escapades she’s experienced. It made your mouth water wishing for the embrace of a lover, to understand what it meant to be truly desired.

You’ve been tempted to fall into bed with the blacksmith’s brother but once you discovered his cruel treatment of the women in town you were soured by the thought. So during the late nights alone your fingers slipped under the quilts and you would find a sticky taste of passion.

Getting caught up in your thoughts keeps you quiet.

“When I was a younger man and lived in France.” Ezra begins with a sudden gentle musing, the voice of a storyteller almost. “Even when I migrated here to the southern territories, I learned of an interesting turn of phrase.”

“La petite mort.” The words flow from him beautifully, rolled with such finessed precision. Hearing him speak sparks a jolt up your spine.

“I’m not quite sure you know of it, but do you know what it means?”

Your eyes that had glazed over are now back on Ezra. His devastatingly beautiful face remains serene.

“The literal translation is ‘a little death.’” Ezra continues. “But what it speaks of is the little moment of feeling as if you’re dying when experiencing true orgasmic release, something that makes us see god.”

His words, hanging with a thinly concealed desire, rip through you and a slickness slowly pools between your legs.

Now his eyes flicker to you.

“A pleasure so rapturous we taste a little death.” He mutters looking so intently at you that you want to scurry and hide away.

But you can’t. You’re drawn into his gaze, a poor moth entrapped by his erratic flame, and you’re not quite sure if this fire is hellfire.

Rationale within you screams this man could be a robber or could be leading you into his sticky web to simply harm you. Yet it seems like he could vanish into smoke.

You also notice you and Eza have both stopped walking. Now staring into his eyes, you discover storms in them.

Until an oncoming storm arrives all around. The wind erupts into howls. It whips around fast and you tug your cloak closer trying to stay warm against the gales.

Your face even scrunches up at the drastic change in the weather.

A firm hand moves to your back pulling you closer until you rest within the shade of a firm body. Ezra has drawn you into his side, lifting his cloak to cover you, and your eyes become full moons.

“To keep you sheltered from this weather. Though, we may need to hunt for some sanctuary soon.” He mutters.

He smells of pine, like the forest itself gave him to you. However you also catch the smallest hint of something smoky, like he slept too close to a campfire.

But, his words confuse you.

“Terrible weather? It’s simply just bad wind.” You yell against the wind and glance around the forest.

That’s when you notice how terrifyingly dark it’s gotten. The tree branches now stretch above like monstrous limbs crawling along the darkness.

How long have you been out along the trail? You haven’t even reached the halfway point to town. The woods now loom incredibly dark like a chasm ready to swallow you whole.

Then the drum of thunder comes, and the skies open up, as if on command by Ezra’s prophetic words. The rain unleashes a downpour. You squawk like a petrified bird at how soaked you’re getting even being covered by his coat.

“Come!” He cries over the storm keeping you close. “I believe there is shelter close by.”

So through the darkness you go, led by him off the path and deeper into the thicket.

How did he know a shelter was nearby? Shouldn’t he have come here earlier and left you on your journey? Or did he maybe sense the storm was coming and wanted to keep accompanying you.

The rush of the rain along with how quickly Ezra moves you and him feels as if you’re flying through the forest like your feet never once touch the ground.

Your body stops and out from the darkness, among the rain, stands the faint shape of a building.

Ezra guides you inside and you exhale relieved you’re out of the storm.

The stale smell of dust greets you first and makes your nose crinkle.

Looking out to your new makeshift shelter, you find yourself standing in a very abandoned church. Dried dead leaves scatter the floor. Vacant pews hold a hollow ghostly emptiness. You didn’t even know this chapel was here.

“How did you know of this place-” you turn to ask Ezra but discover you’re alone.

So focused on soaking in the church you didn’t even notice his departure.

“Ezra?” You call for him and silence replies.

Where could he have gone?

“Worry not.” Ezra’s voice floats out an echo. From the side of the sacristy, beside the main congregation hall, he emerges.

How did he get there without you noticing?

In his grasp is a lit candle. The flames create interesting shadows upon his handsome face as his molten eyes stare at you.

“Apologizes,” he reassured you with the ease of a saint. “Went to scavenge for some light.”

“Seems you were unsuccessful.” You dryly tease, walking towards where Ezra stands at the front of the congregation.

A slight tug of amusement comes over his heavenly face.

“We shall make camp here until the storm quells.”

No better place to find sanctuary than in a chapel, even though this one has seen better days.

Outside the wind continues rattling the windows while the rain creates a soothing melody. Yet, there is an emptiness here, like you can’t sense any sacred spirit within these walls. You wonder if the Lord maybe has even abandoned this space.

“Come rest with me, turtle dove.” Ezra beckons to you as he sits casually on the floor up besides the altar.

“You can’t sit there!” You whisper urgent.

“Why? Who is here to stop me?” Ezra counters with raised eyebrows and amused crinkled eyes.

“This is sacred ground! You can’t simply sit in the sanctuary like it’s some sort of encampment!” You argue.

“Biride,” Ezra begins. “This momentary shelter is merely a building. The same way all buildings are just simple creations of stone and labor.”

“Not buildings like this, especially when our lord resides here.” You reply like a dutifully faithful follower.

Ezra now sits up from his lax position to glance around. His eyes survey every inch of the space.

“You say our Heavenly Father is here. But tell me, turtle dove, do you sense his presence here?”

He noticed it too.

Your tongue becomes metal, heavy and bitter.

“Come,” he urges again, kinder now. “Rest. Your legs need their strength for the rest of your journey. It will be much more comfortable than those stuffy pews.”

You narrow your eyes at him, still hesitant. Defiant, you try sitting in one of the vacant pews only to find clusters of spider webs creating a slightly unnerving barrier. And you didn’t want to check every pew for availability. You were too tired.

Refusing to meet Ezra’s eyes you step past the pews, into the sanctuary, and delicately sit a small space away from your companion.

“See? Not so hard, and you didn’t even combust into flames sitting here.”

You glare at him while Ezra grins triumphant. Silence settles. But with a man who readily embraces the gift and curse of gab, it feels dangerous.

A small gurgle of a noise rumbles out and your face heats up horrified. You didn’t realize you hadn’t eaten this entire journey.

“A bit peckish, dear dove?” Ezra chuckles a smokey thing.

You’re about to grumble under your breath annoyed until he again peers around the abandoned church.

“Rather unfortunate there doesn’t seem to be any source of subsidence here.”

You quietly reassure him as you shift your cloak to reach for your covered satchel. Thankfully, your morsel of a wrapped loaf was spared from the rain.

“I have this for us to share.” You quietly announce.

Ezra gasps small but surprised.

“Divine goddess, you are salvation.” He breathes out.

“I am no goddess. No one person is divine in such a way.” You correct him.

The man hums. “If the maker created man in his image does that not mean we are shades of god in our own ways?”

Midway unfolding the bread out of the paper, you halt.

You never thought of it that way. It made sense. Slowly, it feels as if a wagon wheel is turning in your head leading you towards something you cannot reach.

“Sweet turtle dove,” Ezra calls to you. “Would you be so gracious and let me consecrate our feast?”

You’re stunned by the heartfelt request. This man seems to be a never ending labyrinth confusing you with no end in sight.

You slide closer to sit fully beside him. Readily you hand him the wrapped bread and try not to jump at his hand brushing yours. His skin is soft, warmed, and your knuckles tingle from the simple exchange.

“Thank you kindly.”

Now holding the bread in one hand, Ezra moves the other to lightly hover above the morsel. Closing his eyes in prayer, Ezra begins.

However, he mutters low and so fast that you can’t even catch a word of his prayer. You wonder if he even is saying anything or is simply mocking the form of prayer.

You’re about to chide him until he quickly finishes. Dreamily opening his eyes Ezra then simply breaks the bread into two.

“To break communion with someone lovely as you is an honor.” With a gracious grin, your stranger hands you a piece. You thank him with a soft mutter.

The storm continues its wrath and you arrive at a bleak conclusion. Your night will be spent here in this eerie abandoned church with this strange mysterious handsome man.

Resigning yourself to that, you sigh and take a bite out of the bread.

The bread was a simple one you got from the neighboring town’s bakery. It’s nothing special. You’ve even thought it rather stale at times.

However, the bread you taste now is indescribable.

It melts in your mouth, wonderfully soft and warm. There’s even the sweetest taste like a whisper of a fruit that reminds you of apples. An uncontrollable moan of satisfaction escapes you.

But your eyes widen realizing how you just acted.

Embarrassment floods you fast and you anxiously gaze at Ezra who smirks at you.

Unable to stare at him long, you turn back down to your lap. The bread looks exactly the same as it always does.

Is your mind so exhausted it believes this stale morsel now tastes this heavenly?

You must be imagining things.

Besides you, Ezra shuffles. Out of curiosity your eyes lift towards him and find the man shrugging off his coat.

He even removes his waistcoat to reveal his simple white slipover. Rain still lingers on his skin allowing the pristine white cloth to stick to him. Without the coat you’re given clear sight of his glorious neck.

A thought flutters into your mind.

You imagine sinking your teeth into his beautiful flesh and lapping up all the rain droplets.

Dread fills you.

How could you think such thoughts?

“Turtle dove,” Ezra’s voice shatters the silence almost making you jump.

“If you could create a world of your own, what would it look like?”

The question stumps you, even brings in a twinkle of curiosity. What would bring on such a question? You suppose it must be a way to break the silence and pass the time.

In thought, you hum a small noise.

“I think…” you quietly utter and let your thoughts flow.

You think of a world built on compassion, one without hunger or war, of one filled with peace and justice.

“And without sin, I suppose.” Ezra gently comments and your eyes turn to him.

He stares towards the ground with a peculiar look shadowed over his handsome face.

“Yes of course.” You answer. Sin is the root of all evil and corrupted humanity’s souls.

“What if I told you some sins are not all evil? And that what you long for, dear turtle dove, is not a world void is sin, but one free of guilt from it.”

Your face scrunches up a bit confused over his nebulous words.

“Should we not all live in indulgence?” Ezra adds, clarified in his words.

“Indulgence leads to corruption.” You reply parroting all the countless sermons that discussed this.

“If our creator didn’t want us to indulge, then why did he indulge in creating such a world so lush as this one?” Your stranger offers.

You try gathering a reply, thinking of all the lessons about how this world is meant to be seen in awe and appreciated. Not to indulge in. But now all your arguments seem to fall short, not even sound correct in your head.

Before you can press the discussion further Ezra leans closer towards you. Your thoughts and body become completely petrified.

You should lean away, lean back from his casual intimate movements.

But you can’t. Or, within the deep terror of your heart you know the truth. You don’t want to.

His thumb moves towards the corner of your mouth and you transform completely into stone.

Ezra’s ink eyes haze over while his thumb gently swipes against your skin.

“Crumbs.” He mutters, answering for his actions. Yet, his hand doesn’t leave.

You don’t shove him away or demand him to go. The downpour rattling the windows becomes the church’s only noise while you and this man sit in the stillness.

Ezra’s attention falls to your mouth.

His thumb now strokes the corner of your lips. You believe it’s to wipe more bread crumbs away. Then his thumb swipes across your bottom lip and a sharp inhale escapes you.

His eyes and yours find each other.

“You deserve to live in indulgence,” Ezra whispers deviously rich.

Your skin feels ablazed and your throat dries. Out of instinct or perhaps something darker you wet your lips. In that movement your lips press against his thumb and your tongue manages to swipe at his skin.

You’re rewarded the faintest taste of him, a crumb of his salty golden skin, and it’s like a thread slowly catches fire.

You want more, need it.

Possibly possessed now, your mouth opens up and simply slips more of his thumb into your mouth.

The moment the salty taste of him hits your tongue your eyes close.

Feeling his finger in your mouth against your tongue, against your teeth, is divine. His flesh must be coated with ambrosia because your mouth waters aching for more.

Heaven, or this must be a slice of it.

Until horror strikes you and you realize what you’re doing. Terrified eyes now open, you’re about to pull away and yelp horrified.

Ezra’s hand rapidly moves to cradle your face firm and slide his thumb deeper into your mouth.

“Oh my sweet bird,” he coos now closer to you. “You’ve tasted the pleasure I can give, the magic I can conjure. Don’t deny yourself this.”

His beautiful nose presses into the side of your face nuzzling against your skin and your eyes close. Bliss overtakes you.

“Now” his voice drops a dangerous lulling whisper. “Hollow your cheeks for me, and suck in.”

You do as told and the groan Ezra lets out vibrates deep past your skin. You even let out a whine.

You’ve heard the noises men make in the waves of passion, but this was decadent. You never knew a man could sound this beautiful.

You wanted to hear him even more. And knowing you did this to him? A syrupy drunken pride courses through you intoxicating.

You suck harder, allowing your tongue to caress his skin and Ezra exhales heavenly.

Before you can indulge any further, a creature screeches into the church and shatters the sensual spell. You shriek in terror and scramble. Wings furiously flapping come and out of reflex you cover your head.

Then a solid body collides into you and your world falls over.

You hit the floor of the sanctuary with a soft thud. It would’ve been a harder fall if not for Ezra’s hand cradling your head to soften the impact. Your eyes look up to find Ezra covering you, protecting you from whatever flew in.

Your heart thumps loud in your ears, a horrible drum drowning out your thoughts. His broad shoulders, firm frame, he really is a man crafted out of pure beauty and desire now that you’ve tasted his skin.

“Blasted bats… must’ve been nesting in here.” Ezra comments with a mutter while his eyes stay watching out.

Now you faintly hear the familiar chirps of the creatures. You hope they all leave soon or move to another area within the church.

Slowly the rustling settles. Ezra does not move from his post above you, a shield keeping you safe from the interrupting creatures.

His large hand cradling your head holds you gently but with a firmness that speaks of his control.

The strangest clash of sensations arrives. Like Eve awoken out of her blissful sin, you’re keenly aware of the cold clothes sticking to you. Particularly your wet cloak weighing on you sends a chill crawling up your skin making you squirm.

Ezra’s eyes slip back to you. The candlelight highlights the shadows of his face and his eyes seem deeper than before. Candlelight doesn’t even reflect in their abyss.

Until his obsidian eyes go wide in a slight panic.

“Your wing, turtle dove.”

Now confused you shift to lift your arm up. A small cut has ripped through your cloak and blouse sleeve. You didn’t even notice or feel it. Must have cut yourself on the old wooden floor below.

The church didn’t seem this dilapidated to have rotten wood floors. However, without upkeep, it only makes sense everything begins to splinter and decay. Thankfully the cut isn’t deep but dark crimson does stain the cloth.

“Oh,” you even mutter a bit stunned.

Gently Ezra shifts to help you up while being cautious of your wound.

“Are you in pain?” He asks, concerned.

“No.” You shake your head, truthfully telling him you didn’t even notice the cut.

Ezra delicately moves towards your arm. “May I?”

You nod quietly.

Gingerly, your mysterious stranger places his hands on you to further inspect your wound.

“It doesn’t hurt.” You reassure him.

Surprisingly, Ezra stays silent. His eyes remain on your arm. As if you’re an injured sparrow, he folds up your blouse sleeve delicately.

The faintest touch of his thumb strokes your bare skin and your throat constricts tight. This unknown mystery of a man tenderly touching you clutches at your soul.

“My creator, so heavenly in his wisdom,” he suddenly speaks low, like his voice is dipped in sticky honey. “Taught me this is how we heal wounds.”

Then Ezra draws your arm up and he leans down. And in that swift moment, he presses his lips to your wound.

A tender kiss.

Your breath hitches, tripping over itself. You indeed had his finger in your mouth moments ago. But this opens a chasm in you. Especially as you watch him lick away your blood at his lips

Then his lips return to your skin, on your wound, and it feels like devotion.

There were saints that kissed the wounds of your lord and now how angelic, reverent, Ezra’s face looks, you imagine him as one.

However, his lips start kissing all across your arm, quickly becoming greedy. Like a silent thief, he continues kissing up your arm with deliberate nips.

If he is a robber, this thievery is divine. You even squirm, squeezing your legs together because a slick wetness leaks between them. You wish to quell this burning urge to be touched.

Your mind only focuses on Ezra’s lips that you don’t even notice he unclasped your cloak until the heavy cold weight drops off you like shackles unchained.

However, an awful breeze across your skin makes you shrink back from the cold and snaps you into awareness.

You can’t do this with a man like this, a stranger.

A fanged piece of yourself urges you to simply give in, especially with a man not known in town. The internal struggle vanishes when Ezra’s breath tickles against your exposed neck.

“Do you wish me to stop, my turtle dove?” He coo’s. “I believe you deserve to taste this indulgence.”

“I don’t know you.” You croak out. Yet your voice doesn’t even sound convinced of your own resolve.

“Oh but you do.” Ezra pleads, his voice drenched in gilded desire.

“You know me.” He urges. “This is what you wanted. Your heart summoned me. I heard your call and here I am.”

“What do you mean?” Your voice cracks, an unsteady foundation.

“The hidden truths in your heart,” Ezra whispers and his breath dances upon your skin a ghost’s hymnal.

“The festering jealousy of knowing your dear friend found adoration, even out of sin…you wished to know of such delights. And your anger of this world for damning you to such solitudes, of being so constricting - it all called to me.”

Fear captures your heart. This couldn’t be true.

“Oh but it is,” Ezra answers you.

You don’t even know if you spoke those words aloud or if this man has now slithered into your thoughts.

“All those nights you longed for a lover,” he mourns sympathetically. “All alone with just your fingers in your sweet sex.”

You choke on air, gasping for some sort of relief from this terror drowning you.

“Oh and I’ve watched you for so long, my bird.” He bemoans. “Ached for so long to claim you mine.”

“You…you’ve seen me before?” You stammer.

“Indeed I have. I know you’ve partaken in sin. And the guilt you hold consumes you. Let me be your redemption,” Ezra continues with a pure temptation crawling from his voice.

You should be concerned at how this man has seen you before. Yet…With his mouth simply a breath’s pace away from you nothing seems to matter. Because your mind only wants him to kiss you, ravish you.

“You must say it, my angel.” He mutters.

Do you dare jump off the ledge and plunge into this molten fire?

A light terror runs across your skin, like hearing the hiss of a snake yet not seeing it. Something is afoot with Ezra. You can’t pinpoint it…

But you also wonder if this doubt is born from the chains of your faith holding you back?

“Ezra.” You mumble his name, a choked noise.

“I await your command.” The man reverently responds as if in a mass himself.

“Please….” You whimper out.

“Please what?” He murmurs and his twang clouds his voice even more.

“Please….touch me.” You croak while your voice trails.

It unleashes a monster.

Ezra’s lips dive onto your neck, kissing upon your skin with a possessed fervor. Even while sitting, the sudden rush of his lips, the scrape of his facial hair against you makes your body collapse.

It only allows for Ezra to sweep you into his arms.

Yanking his face away from your neck, you’re about to mourn the loss of him against your skin until his lips swoop in to consume yours.

You’ve kissed others before. In the hidden shadow of buildings after dark, you’ve even recently shared a kiss or two with the blacksmith’s brother a handful of times. They’ve been wonderful but secret encounters.

This however sets your soul on fire.

His tongue swiftly maneuvers into your mouth and now tasting him from the source, you never want to know a day without this, without him.

You moan, yanking at him closer, and try to slide your own tongue against his now. It’s messy, wet, a clash of bone and spirit but it’s delicious.

Sliding his arms under your legs, Ezra lifts you up with ease as he stands. You squeak against his lips, but then your eyes roll back when the man suddenly begins sucking on your tongue.

Your body feels like it will crumble at any moment.

That’s when you notice you’re being laid upon something cold and flat.

Wearily you find you do rest high upon something.

And now, the church is lit.

You panic looking around. The torches lining the walls burn with warm flames and illuminate the space in amber light.

How? Ezra did not leave you for one moment. Was there another here? And if so, how did you not hear them?

A warm calloused hand moves to cradle your face and your eyes snap to Ezra who peers down at you with smoke filled eyes.

“Don’t fret, my dove. We are only here.” He reassures, leaning down to kiss you again and your eyes shut once more.

“And if you’re not simply focused on me, then I’m not doing this correctly.” He mutters against your lips.

A wanton drunkenness comes with how consuming he kisses, especially as his mouth pulls from your lips to lick against your jaw.

He hums a satisfied groan.

“Oh my darling turtle dove, you were born to be worshiped by me weren’t you? And I blessed to simply be your devout disciple.” A revered holiness oozes thick from his voice.

“Let me venerate at your holy temple.” Ezra exhales against your throat kissing your feverish skin.

This is more than you can handle. It’s tremendous. It’s too much, yet not enough. It’s building something just out of your grasp, a flame that can’t be extinguished and scorches so fierce.

Blinking out of the haze, you find instead of being beside you, Ezra, like magic, now stands by your feet.

His hands slide up your legs and yank you closer towards him.

A yelp of surprise squeaks out from you. Any other noise or thoughts get swallowed up when Ezra’s hands snake under your skirt and up your legs.

Your eyes close under the sensation of his calloused warm hands.

“Do you know what true sacrifice cleanses sins?” Ezra asks with gravel in his voice.

“Hm?” You mumble, unable to create a response with how wonderful his fingers feel caressing your thighs.

“It’s to offer up one’s life. That’s the ultimate form of sacrifice.”

His words terrify you. Is he insinuating what you think he is? Are you to be made a lamb to slaughter because of the desire consuming you?

“Shh…” Ezra notices your worry and soothes you, rubbing gentle circles on your skin.

“Fear not, my dove. For I shall bring you redemption just as you’ve brought me mine.”

Slowly, he hoists your leg up and your eyes widen. He shifts to stand between your legs. Keeping his gaze on you, the mysterious man kisses your calf, a calming balm that also ignites a heat brewing in you again.

“Tell me,” Ezra asks, speaking into your skin. “Has anyone tasted you…here?”

Suddenly his fingers graze against your sex and warmth floods your face at just the thought.

You heard of such a thing from your friend at the brothels. However it was a rare occurrence, almost seemed mythical.

“No.” You breathe out.

“Shame.” Ezra mumbles. “All for me I suppose. A wonderfully ripe peach, all mine to consume.”

His inky dazed eyes flicker to yours.

“Will you let me take you to heaven, my lovely? May I swim in your ocean and taste your pearl?” Ezra offers like a man asking for your atonement.

The terminology is not missed on you and lust crashes in a dizzying tidal wave.

Quietly, swallowing thick, you nod yes.

Pride grin tugs at Ezra’s lips and his eyes twinkle like a creature lurking out from the woods.

Softly closing his eyes, he returns to kissing your skin. Except this time he moves up your leg with a purpose -

Like he’s on a holy pilgrimage.

Almost bewitched you watch him kneel down and push up your skirt to reveal your under garment. It’s a sight you want seared into your memory.

Then Ezra presses forward and kisses your covered sex. A gasp rips wild from you and your eyes roll back.

With a fast rip, Ezra takes apart your undergarments. Bare to him, his tongue then licks against your cunt and the most debauched sound you never knew you could even make escapes you.

“Do you enjoy? Wish me to continue?” You don’t know how Ezra’s voice swirls around you, a caress in the whispering wind, but you nod frantically.

“Ezra please… more.” You whimper.

And he does as you command.

Ezra pulls you apart with a wet devotion and frenzy that feels like you’re being devoured. He’s feasting on you.

You whine, even slap a hand over your mouth to silence how loud you’ve become when he sucks hard on the pearl of your sex.

“No.” He mumbles wet within your molten heat. “Let me hear you, my lovely.”

You don’t deny him after that.

The storm now rages outside, violently ramming into the windows. It mixes with the cries of your pleasure ripping through you.

When your climax arrives and knocks you out of this realm, you scream Ezra’s name while your legs shake.

“Beauty divine,” Ezra sighs, devout and borderline drunk.

Breathing down from your high with your back fully now flat against the floor surface, it hits you.

You’ve been lying on the chapel’s altar this entire time.

The offering is you. You indeed are the sacrifice, one of vitality. The throne of ecstasy is a form of life…

And did Ezra not tell you passion is also a tiny death itself as well?

Before you can gather this, Ezra dives back into you again and you squirm unbelieving this man can want more. He’s a man possessed like he’s trying to consume you from the inside out, devouring you until he reaches your marrow.

“Ezra.” You whimper. It borders too much, but you also don’t want this to stop.

“Let me feast, my dove.” He growls back and you catch it.

Ezra’s voice sounds distorted, fluttering between his twang and now a jagged danger sounding monstrous.

Wearily, trying to stay aware among the heat of building rapture, you exhaustedly lean up.

Between your legs Ezra is a sinful sight. His broad shoulders keep your thighs open as his tongue dips into the caverns of your cunt. You melt, unable to keep your eyes open.

But you want to watch him, want to remember this for as long as you can.

Especially now that the storm rages all around. You even wonder if the decaying church’s roof might be ripped off.

So your eyes open.

From between your legs, Ezra glances up.

His mouth stays stuck to your sex, except his eyes are completely hollowed out.

Drenched in darkness, like ink spilled entirely into them, they’re unholy and inhuman.

A scream rips from you but you can’t tell if it’s born of fear or pleasure. Or maybe both have blended together.

Your hips rise galvanized more and more, unable to stop their grind into his lips. Ezra’s grip keeps you secured and grounded.

Yet the sensation of sharpened nails now scrape against your skin.

You discover there are indeed claws, gruesome and monstrous claws, that form Ezra’s hands and arms.

“What- what are you?!” You sob.

Ezra hums and peers up at you.

“Salvation, my lovely. Yours and mine.”

A second orgasmic high hits and from the overwhelming pleasure your vision goes white. You wonder if this is heaven.

Or perhaps it’s hell.

Maybe you have died.

You should scream in terror or pray for absolution. But it’s so hard when this tastes so incredibly intoxicating, a most potent elixir.

As your body crumbles back against the altar, the overstimulated sensations become numbing, fogging your mind. Your eyes flicker up to the ceiling of the chapel.

You cannot find your god anywhere in the shadows.

The back of Ezra’s clawed hand gently strokes your cheek.

So tired, barely able to stay awake, your exhausted gaze flickers to him.

Those eyes of his, dark chasms of hell, should be soulless. But instead he looks at you with utmost tenderness.

The blazing lights of the church cast a warm glow outlined around Ezra, almost like a halo.

It’s beautiful. He’s beautiful in the terrifying way a fire is.

The mystery known as Ezra suddenly whispers out your name and you realize…

You never once gave it to him this entire time.

He is the last sight you see before your vision finally falls into the darkness.

When you awake, you’re among your quilts and bed.

You’re home.

Rapidly you look around so confused. How did you end up here? Was it all a dream?

“You’re awake!” Your father cries relieved and rushes to your side.

He thankfully answers all your questions.

You had arrived the morning after the storm. However, you hadn’t been alone.

“You had fallen ill on the road.” Your father explains. “But, thanks be to God, the new pastor sent to our town discovered you and carried you home.”

Now you’ve been resting ever since.

Had that experience been a fever dream, a temporary temptation conjured from your heart’s dark desires?

That had to be a dream, one brought on by your sudden sickness. So you rest and stay in bed for most of the day. From your window you admire the beautiful clear skies, the wonderful weather, and wildflowers growing so lovely.

You also notice your arm is completely healed, like you were never cut to begin with.

Midafternoon, a knock arrives at the door.

Your father calls your name. “Someone here to visit!”

Your mind sorts through all the possibilities of who is here to see you. You never expected your dearest friend to enter in with tears in her eyes. Overjoyed emotion washes over you as she rushes to embrace you.

“How can this be?” You hiccup, wiping away the tears. She was rarely allowed back home, especially now with her early pregnancy.

“The new pastor,” she smiles wide. “So holy and forgiving, he spoke to the judges and they are all redetermining a new sentence for me.”

You almost whisper out a prayer of thanksgiving. You hoped in your heart this would happen. She doesn’t stay long, wanting you to rest and you urge her to do the same.

By twilight another knock at the door arrives.

“Seems we are quite popular today.” Your father teases out from the main quarters.

Then he exclaims in excitement at seeing who’s arrived.

“Oh we are so blessed to have such a considerate clergyman coming by to visit!”

The new pastor. You’re beyond interested to meet this man and now you will.

When your father enters your room, Ezra waltzes in behind him.

Fear seizes your soul.

No. It couldn’t be.

This must be a man that looks like him down to his beautiful sharp nose and white patch of hair.

“Pleasure to see you again and under better circumstances.” Ezra’s clear twang rings out low and twinkling within your room.

Your heart rages rapidly and wild.

“Don’t look so terrified.” Your father chides soft but you still can’t believe this sight before you.

“Might I have a moment of solitude with your dear offspring?” Ezra asks with all the humility of an apostle.

Your father readily agrees, shutting the door behind him.

Now in the confines of your room Ezra slowly saunters towards your bed, a creature approaching its prey.

He exalts your name on an exhale.

You try to speak, but nothing comes out and Ezra moves to kneel beside your bed. His eyes twinkle with patient and pious understanding.

“Shh…no need for words, my dear turtle dove.” He quietly soothes you.

So many emotions clash in you, a tremulous onslaught you can’t handle.

“Have you come to kill me?” Fear manages to escape your lips and Ezra’s glorious face drops.

“Oh no, my beloved birdie. I’d never lay a hand on you with any violence or killing intent.” He reassures, a tender caress. “I’m here to free you. For us to set everyone free…did you not hear of what I did for your dear friend?”

His hand graciously cradles your cheek.

You should be terrified this man, this creature, is here. But you’re not.

Instead consuming relief and dangerous glee fills you. He is real. It was real.

Your hands clasp onto his and you hate how much you lean into his touch

Ezra leans forward and places a kiss against your forehead.

“What are you?” You ask barely above a whisper.

“The shadow of an angel, perhaps a monster to some.” He replies back. “But yours, nonetheless”

And you want him to be yours.

This is wrong to feel so greedy, to want a creature this dangerous. But were demons not once angels who deserved forgiveness and love?

So shifting your face you turn and place a kiss against Ezra’s palm.

Now when you hear the sermons, when you hear Ezra preach, you will think of Eve with sympathy because you understand.

You too fell for the serpent.

After all, evil never looks so beautiful as it does holding you. And desire never tasted so divine, never felt so holy.

Outside your window, the wildflowers begin to rot and the sudden rumble of a thunderstorm rolls in.

#sorry my ex Catholic school ass jumped out in this one & I need to go bathe in holy water now holy shit #anyway me and demon Ezra love you very much #ezra x reader #demon!ezra #ezra x f!reader #ezra (prospect) fic #ezra (prospect) x reader #ezra 🤎#pedrostories

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justcallmeely · 1 year

Text

We're Safe

Pairing: Oliver Queen x F!Reader Synopsis: Billionaire playboy, Oliver Queen and Billionaire playgirl Y/N Merlyn, has been considered dead for five years. Now, they have returned. But something, during those five years, has changed them into mysterious green hooded archers. warnings: Fluff, kissing, sex, s*ui*de, mentions of trauma and torture Characters: Oliver Queen, Reader, Tommy Merlyn, Thea Queen, Moria Queen, Walter, Laurel Lance, Quintin Lance, Sarah Lance Word count: 13.2k Words *also, English is not my first language so sorry if they're any grammar or spelling mistakes!*

While running through the woods (Y/N) and Oliver try to get to were their are arrows are hidden. While making it to the location they see a boat and run over to their supplies. Olive r sticks his knife into the rock and she stands beside him. He grabs an arrow and passes it quickly on the rock so it could create a flame. He gets ready to shoot. When he lets go of the arrow, it lands in the pack of sticks they had placed there earlier and the sticks light on fire. It grabbed the attention of the 2 fishermen who were on the boat.

~~~

"The name of the island they found us on is Lian Yu. It's Mandarin for 'purgatory'. "

The men slowly walk over to were the fire was as we were also walking towards them.

"We've been stranded here for five years. We've dreamed of our rescue every cold, black night since then."

We walk infront of the men and kneel.

"For five years, we've only had one thought, one goal, survive."

As the men looked at each other we took off our hoods slowly and looked up at them

"Survive and one day, return home."

---

As we sat down with a blanket around us, one of the men brought us two cups of some warm tea

"The island held many dangers. To live, we had to make ourselves more than what we were to forge ourselves into a weapon. We are returning, not the boy and girl who was shipped wrecked but the man and woman who will bring justice to those who have poisoned our city."

The man walked away as we both looked back at the island.

"My name is Oliver Queen"

"And my name is(Y/N) Merlyn."

==========

Headline reads: Lost Billionaire's found"

-breaking- LOST BILLIONAIRE'S DISCOVERED IN NORTH CHINA SEA

"Oliver Queen and (Y/N) Merlyn are alive. The Starling City residents found by fishermen in the North China Sea five days ago. Five years after they were missing and presumed dead following of the accident at sea which claimed The Queens Gambit." Says the news anchor.

"Queen and Merlyn were a regular tabloid presences and fixtures at the Starling City club scene."

They show of Oliver and a random girl both drunk and with you behind them with a man and Tommy with you guys with two girls as well.

"Shortly before their disappearances, Queen was acquitted of assault charges stemming from a highly publicized drunken altercation with paparazzi. Queen is the son of Starling City billionaire Robert Queen who was also on board but now officially confirmed as deceased." He continues saying "(Y/N) Merlyn is the daughter of Starling City billionaire of Malcom Merlyn who is the CEO of Merlyn Global Group. (Y/N) is the COO of Merlyn Global Group and her brother Thomas Merlyn is the CFO of the Merlyn Global Group as well. (Y/N) is also a very famous model. She is known for her appearances on the runway and her looks in magazines. She always has the best outfits on."

-------

As I open my eyes I am blinded by the lights in the hospital. I look around and see my surroundings. I look outside and see the lights and building that weren't there before I left. I get up slowly and walk out of my room quietly as I make my way over to Olivers room. I walk in and I see him looking outside in awe. "Its beautiful isn't it." I say as I walked over to him and put one of my arms around his waist.

"Yeah, I cant believe how much has changed since we 'died', it's like a whole different world out there." He puts his arm around my waist as well and kisses my head. I smile and we stand there for a while admiring the new world we have come home to.

"Twenty percent of their bodies is covered in scar tissue. Second-degree burns on their back and arms. X-rays show at least 12 fractures that never properly healed on his body and about 15 on hers." The doctor tell Moira as they are looking at you and Oliver through the glass door.

"Have they said anything about what happened?" Moria asks the doctor.

"No, they've barely said anything." The doctor tells her and she looks back at you and Oliver. "Moira, I'd like you to prepare yourself. The Oliver and (Y/N) you lost might not be the one they found."

She takes a deep breath and opens the door.

-----

"Oliver?" We turn our heads to see Moria standing there. I step away from Oliver a bit and he holds my hand.

"Mom." He says to her. She walks over to him and he looks at me, I smile at him and give him the 'go on' face. He lets go of my hand and goes to hug his mother. They hug for about 2 minutes until she lets go of Oliver and she looks at me. She smiles while tears are filling her eyes.

"My beautiful (Y/N), oh my goodness, you look as gorgeous as ever my darling." She comes towards me and hugs me. I hug her back and she rubs my back gently.

"You looks amazing as well Moira" She pulls back and puts her hands on my shoulders.

"Well as much as you look gorgeous and beautiful, we should go home and get some food into you two, huh? How does that sound?" She places her hand on Olivers shoulder and keeps one on mine as she shakes us lightly.

"That sounds great Mom" He smiles at her and holds my hand again,

"Well I cant discharge you tonight so ill be back." She smiles at us again and walks out. We look at each other and we smile.

"We're home" He says and he smiles at me.

"We're Home" I repeat his words and I return his smile.

He brings me into a kiss and I kiss him back. I pull back and I put my hand on his cheek. "We should get some rest okay?" I gave him a quick peck on the lips and I start walking out of the room. He pulls me back gently and places a kiss on my lips and puts his hand on my cheeks.

"Don't go" He says while our foreheads are together.

I roll my eyes and I laugh "After 5 years I would've thought you would be tired of me, but no you're still as clingy as always." I smile at him while I look him in his beautiful blue eyes. " Okay fine."

I let go of his waist and go lay down on his hospital bed. "Well are you coming or not?" He smiles and get into the bed. He snuggles up next to me and places his head on my shoulder. I play with his now short hair and I start falling asleep.

God I miss being in a 'normal' bed.

The next morning, we get to Queen Manor. Oliver gets out and extends his hand out for me. I take his hand and get out the car. Me and Oliver go around the car to go pick up our cases. The driver is already there and Oliver stops him.

"I've got it." He tells the driver and proceeds to take our stuff. Oliver takes mine and hands it to me.

Moira opens the door.

"Your room is exactly as you left it. I never had the heart to change a thing." She says placing her stuff at the entrance table.

"Oliver, (Y/N)." We hear a man say. The voice was so familiar but so unfamiliar as well. Oliver looks at me and I just shrug my shoulders. "Its damn good to see you two'. Oliver looked at the man up and down. "It's Walter." He puts his hands out and shakes Olivers hand. He does the same to me. "Walter Steele."

"You remember Walter. Your fathers friend from the company." Moira says and he looks at Walter one more time before letting go of his hand and intertwining our fingers.

We walk over to Raisa, she's been working for his family for years and Oliver considers her as a second mother. And so do I. Ive considered her my second mother after my mom died.

"It's good to see you, Raisa." Oliver tells her and she takes our free hands and puts it into hers.

"Its really good to see you Rasia." I tell her as she brings me into a hug. "ya tak skuchal po tebe (ive missed you so much)." I can feel her smile.

"ya tozhe skuchal po tebe (Ive missed you as well)." She says as she pulls away from the hug and takes our hands again.

"Welcome home, Mr.Oliver and Ms. (Y/N)" She tells us "Mr.Merlyn phoned. He wants to join you for dinner."

"Wonderful" I hear Moira say all of a sudden. I jump a bit and Oliver noticed. We started laughing quietly.

We hear a thud come from upstairs. Oliver and I knew exactly who it was.

"Oliver (Y/N), did you hear that?" Moira says.

We walked closer to the stairs and waited for her to come down. We waited at the end of the stairs.

"Hey sis." Oliver tells Thea

"I knew it. I knew you were alive" She ran down the stairs to hug him. He let go of my hand so he would be able to catch her. Once he did he hugged her back. "I missed you so much."

"You were with me or should I say 'Us' the whole time" He tell her as she pulls back in confusion.

"Us? what do you mean u-" She looks over at me and I smile at her and open my arms. She looks at me like she's just seen a ghost. She runs into my arms and she hugs me. I hug her back and spun her around.

"You know I really missed you Chucky." I told her while everyone started laughing.

The reason I call Thea 'Chucky' is because Oliver calls her 'speedy' since she was always running around. Well this one time me and Oliver were babysitting her, she somehow got a knife and started chasing Oliver around with it.

-MEANWHILE WITH LAUREL-

"Come on Laurel. We're lawyers, not miracle workers. We cant win this" Anastasia tells Laurel as she looks through some mail.

"If we can win a class-action suit against a man who swindled hundreds of people out of their homes and life savings then were not fit to call ourselves a legal aid office." She continues to walk and look through the mail with Anastasia behind her.

"And if we go bankrupt in the process we won't be a legal aid office. Hunt has an army of lawyers and they are ready to bury us." Anastasia tries to reason with Laurel.

"You and I against and army. I love those odds." She says looking at Anastasia.

"Why do you hate me?" She walks away.

Laurel sits down as she looks at a board filled with information about Adam Hunt.

"And in other news, details as to the cast away story you've all heard about. The son and daughter of very wealth billionaires will soon become a legendary story. Jessica now has more details and the complete castaway story." The reporter says on the TV. Laurel gets up and walks over to the TV.

"The Queen's Gambit was last heard from more than 5 years ago. Mr.Queen and Ms.Merlyn have reportedly confirmed they were the only survivors of the accident that took the lives of seven people including local resident Sarah Lance. Survived by her sister Laurel-" Laurel cuts off the TV and walks away from the table of where the other people in the office were sitting.

-WITH YOU AND OLIVER AT THE QUEEN MANOR-

Oliver walks out the shower wearing a towel around his waist. His hair was still wet. When his fully walks out you can see his scars from the island. He walks in front of the window and looks outside.

"After five years, everything that was once familiar is now unrecognizable."

"The face I see in the mirror is a stranger."

-(FLASHBACK)-

There was a storm while on the boat. Robert was looking at the radar. He had a concerned look on his face. One of the crew members walks into the boat soaking wet. He walks over to Robert and starts talking.

"The storms a category 2. The captains recommending we head back." Says the crew member to Robert.

"Alright. Inform the crew." Robert says as the crew member walks away.

"Are we in trouble?" Oliver walks out of his room asking his father.

"One of us is." Robert responds as he walks over to his son. Oliver chuckles

"Ollie?" Sarah says walking out of the room with (Y/N) around her waist kissing her neck. She giggles while trying to move (Y/N). Sarah covers her robe as she see's that Robert is with him. "Where do you keep the bottle opener on this thing?" She asks him while (Y/N) is still placing small kisses on her neck. She giggles again still trying to move (Y/N).

"I'll be there in a minute Sarah. And (Y/N) don't eat her please" Oliver says pointing at them.

"No promises, Captain" She winks while walking away with Sarah.

Oliver turns to his father again and he continues speaking.

"That is not going to finish well. For either of them, or for you." Robert says.

-(END OF FLASHBACK)

I walk up to him and hug him from behind. I kiss his shoulder softly as I rub my hands up and down his arms as he gets dressed.

"You know I missed this. Us being together, and being able to be comfortable at home or should I say your home." I told him as he turned around hugging me around my waist and kissing my head.

"Our home (Y/N), our home." He says as he brings me into a hug and places his head on mine.

"You smell soooo good. Haven't smelled this smell in a while." We both burst out laughing.

"I know. You do too" We continue laughing and I slap his shoulder.

"Well loser im going to get ready for dinner." I tell him as I placed a kiss on his lips and walked away.

------

Oliver is downstairs looking at old photos at the entrance of the house. He pick up a photo of him and his father when he was little. He hears the door open and looks up.

"What did I tell you? Yachts suck" It was Tommy. Olivers best friend. And (Y/N)'s brother.

Oliver puts the photo down and turns around smiling.

"Tommy Merlyn." Oliver says bringing Tommy in for a hug.

"I missed you buddy." Tommy hugs him as well and smiles.

"Hey Ollie? Do you know where I put my brooch? You know the one Tommy gave me?" I say while walking out of his room while putting on my earrings.

"Yeah its in your jewelry box." Oliver says while Tommy pulls away from their hug.

"Ya prosto blya zaglyanul tuda" I tell him in Russian.

(I just fucking looked in there).

"Ya znayu, chto eto posledneye mesto, kuda ty yego polozhil." He responds to me in Russian.

(I know that's the last place you put it)

"Khorosho, ya proveryu eto snova, a zatem mister. znayu vse eto" I respond back to him. I roll my eyes while throwing my hands up in the air.

(Fine i'll check it again then Mr. know it all)

Tommy looks at Oliver starstruck. Not only is his best friend is back, but his little sister is back, all grown up.

"Lets go eat" Oliver tells him as he puts his arm on his shoulder and they walk into the living room.

---

I walked back into the room looking back inside my jewelry box. There it was. I put it on and I fixed my hair, I put some heels on and make my way downstairs. I walk downstairs and I hear some talking. I hear a voice, a voice that is familiar to me. I walked closer to the dining room and I see Thea.

I walk into the dining room and Oliver smiles at me. I smile back at him and walk over to Thea. We start talking and she compliments my pin

"That brooch is beautiful where'd you get it?" She asks me as we both look at it.

I take it off and show her. Its a beautiful butterfly brooch with my favorite colored diamonds on it. I show her the back and show her that my initials are engraved into it.

"Tommy gave it to me actually. For my 18th birthday." I hand her the pin so she can see it better.

"Wait are the diamonds real though?" She asks me and I laugh.

"Is that a real question Chucky? Obviously the diamonds are real, because diamonds are a girls best friend." I wink at her and she giggles. "You know Chucky, I missed you a lot. I missed our girl days and our chats." I say to her softly while smiling and putting my pin back on.

"I did too yk. I missed your advice and you wise words" Thea says and we both laugh. I hug her and she hugs me back.

"I love you T.T" I smiled as I hugged her. I can feel a smile on her face as well.

I let go as I hear footsteps. I see Oliver and I hug him.

"I see you find the brooch jellybean." Tommy. I smile at the words that came out of his mouth.

"Yes I did Bear." I hug him.

"I missed you jellybean." Tommy says as he hugged me.

"I missed you too Bear" I told him and he hugged me tighter. I can feel the air of my lungs escape. "Tommy. if you don't put me down ill chop your head off." He looked at Oliver and he gave him the "she'll do it" face to Tommy.

Tommy puts me down while having a terrified look on his face.

"Ill never do that to you bear." I pat his cheek as I walked over to the table.

-----

"Okay what else did you miss. Super bowl winners, Giants, Steelers, Saints, Packers, Giants again. A black president, that's new. Oh, and "Lost," they were all dead, I think" Tommy says chuckling.

"What was it like there?" Thea asks as she looks at both of us. Everyone gets quiet looking at both of us. Oliver looks at me and I shrug my shoulders.

"Cold." Oliver responds dryly.

"Tomorrow you, me and (Y/N), we're doing the city. You two have a lot to catch up on." Tommy says as he points his fork at us.

"That sounds like a great idea." Moira speaks up and looks at us again. I grab my glass of wine and chuckle.

"Good. Then I was hoping to swing by the office." Oliver tell Moira. Walter stop drinking his wine and she nods raising her glass.

"Well, there's plenty of time for all that. Queen Consolidated isn't going anywhere." Walter says to Oliver and I just shake my head sipping my wine once again.

Raisa walks in and trips on the carpet. She had a bowl of fruits in her hand but Oliver catches it.

"Oh, I am so sorry, Mr. Oliver." Raisa tells Oliver with remorse.

"Ne bespokoytes'" He tells Raisa with a smile on his face. Everyone at the table was shocked, even Rasia.

(Its no worry)

"Dude, you speak Russian?" Tommy asks him in surprise.

"I didn't realize you took Russian in college, Oliver." Walter says.

"I didn't realize you wanted to sleep with my mother, Walter." Oliver tells him. I almost spit my wine out in shock to what he just said.

"Im sorry" I start coughing and Oliver stands up to check on me but I push him away.

"Im okay im okay." I cough one last time as I wipe my mouth with the napkin.

Thea chuckles a bit and sits back. "I didn't say anything." Thea tells Moira and Walter.

"She didn't have to." Oliver responds to her.

"Oliver, Walter and I are married and I didn't want you to think that either of us did anything to disrespect your father." Moira says as she grabs Walters hand and looks at him.

"We both believed that Robert like you was, uh, well gone." Walter says.

"Its fine." Oliver says nodding at Moira. I took his hand lightly and intertwined our fingers. He looks down and smiles at me.

He lets go of my hand and stands up. "May I be excused?" He asks Moira, as she nods at him. I look at him walk away. I wait for him to leave the room.

"Hey, don't forget about tomorrow, buddy" Tommy says patting his arm. He winks at Thea then walks away.

I get up as well. "May I be excused as well please?" I asked Moria and she nods at me as well. I lip to her 'Im going to go check on him'. "Thank you Moira, dinner was lovely." I hugged Thea and Tommy as I walked out.

"It was my pleasure honey" She nods and smiles at me

"You too jellybean, don't forget." He tells me while patting my arm as well.

"Don't worry Thomas ill be there." I laugh as I walked out the dining room.

-------

I walked up the stairs to Olivers room. I open the door and see him sitting on his bed. I sit next to him and rub his back lightly. He had his hands in his head.

"you okay?" I asked him gently.

"Yeah I just needed to get away you know?" He tells me. I nod understanding.

"Yeah I know." I say placing my head on his shoulder.

"Everything is just so..." He says trying to look for the correct word to say.

"Different? yeah I know. We've been gone 5 years and everything's changed." I take his hand and start playing with it.

"We should get some sleep. Tommy's going to be on our asses if we don't show up tomorrow." he says laughing at his own comment. I laugh along with him.

He hides his pain away with comedy. And I do too.

We get ready for bed. I lay down and he lays down next to me.

"I missed laying down on my own bed. Especially with you." He says bringing me into a kiss.

"I know. I missed it too. But look at where we are now. Here. Together." I say kissing him back.

"Goodnight Ollie."

"Goodnight (Y/N/N)" He kisses me once more time and I cuddle up next to him and fall asleep.

-------

As the rain was pouring and the lightning was striking. Oliver lays on the floor with the window open.

-(FLASHBACK)-

"One, two, three. Its getting closer" Sarah tells Oliver with (Y/N) on her side holding champage.

"That's not very scientific." Oliver says taking a sip out of his cup.

"What would you know about science, Mr. Ivy League dropout?" (Y/N) says while taking a sip out of her cup as well.

"Yeah what would you know?" Sarah says.

"I happen to know alot about science. I know about fermentation. I know biology." He kisses (Y/N) and then Sarah.

"Laurel's gonna kill me. Oh, she's so gonna kill me." She smiles putting her cup down.

"Your sister will never know" Oliver says.

"Exactly, if she never finds out, she cant do anything." (Y/N) says kissing her and smiling. Sarah kisses back.

"That's true." She smiles at (Y/N) then Oliver.

"Come here" He takes both Sarah and (Y/N) down and gets on top of both of them. They both start to laugh.

The lights turn off.

"Okay, that one was really close." Sarah says freaking out a little bit.

"Yeah Ollie, that one was really close." (Y/N) says looking at him.

"Sarah, (Y/N) you're going to be fine." He says reassuring both of the girls and kisses them.

All of sudden the boat starts to tilt and they all fall off the bed onto the wall.

Sarah and (Y/N) both scream slamming into the wall. Oliver was able to grab (Y/N). (Y/N) extend her arm to grab Sarah but it was too late. Sarah fell.

They both swim to the top where a safe boat was.

"SARAH!" (Y/N) and Oliver yell out.

"(Y/N)! OLIVER!" We can hear the voice of Robert yelling out her name. Robert put out his arm so he was able to pull Oliver in.

The crew member also put his hand out and helped (Y/N) get onto the safe boat.

"No! No! No! Dad shes out there!" Oliver says in panic.

"Shes not out there." Robert says.

"SARAH!" Oliver yells out one last time.

Oliver collapses into (Y/N) arms and starts crying.

The boat falls slowly into the ocean.

-(END OF FLASHBACK)-

"Oliver? Oliver.? Oliver wake up." I say trying to wake him up. Moira and Walter are behind me trying to see whats wrong. "Oliver. Ollie-" He wakes up and puts his hand on my throat. I start coughing while Walter and Moira are help me up.

He moves back quickly realizing what he'd just done. "Im sorry. Im so, sorry." He says looking down in disappointment.

"Its okay. Its okay." I say as i get closer to him bringing him into a hug.

"Its alright sweetheart. Youre home. Youre home." Moira says. She and Walter walk out. Leaving me and Oliver alone in the room again.

"(Y/N) I am so sorry. I didnt mean it i swear its just that i had a nightmare and you were in it and-" I shushed him and brought him into a hug. I kiss his head gently as the rain is coming in through the window.

"Youre safe now. Okay, im safe. We're safe. Im here, alive and well." I tell him while smiling at him gently.

"Yeah. Its just it was a flash back to when the boat drowned and you waking me up just like activated my fight or flight. Im so sorry. Is your neck okay." He say worryingly looking at me and checking my neck for any bruises.

"Ollie. Ollie look at me, im fine dont worry. okay im okay." I reassure him one last time until getting up and closing the window. "Lets change your clothes and get to bed okay?" Oliver grabs some clean clothes and changes. I do the same thing and we lag back down in bed.

This time, i wait for him to fall asleep before i do.

--------

I wake up to the light of the sun hitting my face. I feel a large pair of hands around my waist. I turn around and see Oliver. I smile and run my hands through his now short hair. I can hear his soft snores. The sunlight hitting his face. I smile as I admire his beauty.

"Good Morning" I hear him say while having his eyes closed.

"Good Morning" I smile at him. "Did you sleep well?" I asked while still playing with his hair.

"I slept great, how about you?" He asks placing a kiss on my lips.

"I slept amazing." I smiled at him.

"I could get used to this view." He says kissing me again and rolling us over so he could be on top.

I kiss him back and respond, "I could get used to this view as well."

We continued kissing for a while until the kisses became more deep and passionate. I started taking off his shirt and he did the same to me. By this time, we are both naked and still kissing. He starts moving down to my neck, I let out a soft moan.

"Fuck..." I say softly. I can feel him smirk on my neck. He continues to kiss my neck, knowing he's leaving hickys on my neck.

He makes his way down my body, kissing it slowly. He makes it to my pussy. He kisses down my thighs running his fingers on the side of my body. I let a gasp out while arching my back to the wonderful feeling of his lips touching my skin.

He makes his way up my body and stops at my pussy. He licks my clit gently while putting my leg on his shoulder. He pulls his tongue away from my clit, he inserts two fingers while placing his left thumb on my clit. He moves his fingers in and out of my pussy. He slowly starts to move his thumb around my clit. I arch my back and let out a moan.

"Ollie.. Oh my.." I let out while running my fingers through his hair.

He quickens his pace. Im about to let out a moan but I cover my mouth with my hand and my other hand is grabbing the sheets. I can feel myself climaxing.

"Fuck im about cum Oliver." I say covering my mouth again.

"Cmon baby" He says while going quicker.

I cum on his finger and he licks them off. He moves back up to me and starts kissing me again. I kiss him back and place my hands on his back.

"I need you in me Oliver." I whisper in his ear and he smirks at me again.

He alines himself with my pussy. He looks at me, all I see behind those ocean blue eyes is lust, passion and his love for me. He puts his dick in me and I grip the sheets, letting out a loud moan from my mouth. He covers my mouth with one of his hands while we move our hips.

I flip him over, im now on top of him. I move my hips slowly while throwing my head back gently. He grabs my boobs and starts playing with them. He cups one of them and starts licking my nipple. I gasp at the feeling and cover my mouth so no one could hear us.

I lift my head back up and place my hands behind his head while riding him slowly. I hear feel him moan softly. He grabs my waist softly and starts moving my hips faster. I can feel him becoming desperate. We both move our hips quickly as we ride out each others climaxes.

"Fuckkkkk..." He says while we cum together.

"Oh my god." I say while out of breath.

I start kissing him again. He grabs my hips again and flips us over so he's on top. He alines himself with my pussy again. He inserts his dick again and starts at a quick pace. I copy his pace and I start kissing him so neither of us would moan loudly out of pleasure. We move our hips at the same pace.

Our rhythm starts to become sloppy. We slow down a bit.

"Fuck baby, im about to cum." I say while bringing him into another kiss.

He lays his body against mine and picks down the pace. I could feel his and mine climaxes come along. Oliver slows down the pace which lets me know that he's cumming. He lays his head on my chest while riding out his climax

We are more out of breath the before. He lifts his head and smiles at me.

"That was amazing" He says kissing my nose then my lips.

"It really was." I say smiling.

"We should get ready." He says while getting up from the bed and extending his arm out. Helping me get up as well. We head to the bathroom and get ready for the day.

--------

When we are done, we walk back into his/ our room and put some clothes on. I put on a plain white turtle neck sweater-dress with a gold Chanel chain belt on. I put on knee-high snake/black leather boots. I let my hair out and put on some light makeup.

Oliver goes to his side of the bed and grabs his case.

"What are you doing?" I ask crossing my arms and looking down at him.

"Im looking for something." He says while putting the combination in. He puts the lock down and opens it. He unwraps the cloth and picks up a notebook. He looks at he briefly and puts it back down. He grabs a honzen that he wanted to give Thea back on the island. He gets up and I follow him out.

-------

Oliver knocks on Theas door while holding my hand. We could hear some quick shuffling and we look at each other confused. Oliver opens the door. He walks in and I walk behind him a bit.

"Ollie." Thea says with a smile on her face

"No one's called me that in a while, Speedy." He says walking closer to her.

"Worst nickname ever." She says while rolling her eyes jokingly.

"I think its pretty cute" I said while smiling.

"(Y/N)!" She says while bringing me into a hug.

"What, always chasing around after you as a kid. I thought it fit pretty well. Maybe it still does" Oliver says while I pull away from me and Theas hug.

I look over at Theas friend who seems to be frozen. I gave her a strange look then I look back at Thea. "Is she okay T?" I point at her friend. Thea looks at her and rolls her eyes.

"Im sorry, she's just a huge fan of you." Thea says trying to get her friends attention.

"Hi hello" I say waving at her.

"Omg Hi Hi." She says taking my hand and shaking it pretty roughly.

"Oh-" I let out and shake her hand. "Quite the grip you got there babe, you'd make a great business woman with that firm handshake." I say chuckling.

"Would I?" She asks me.

"Of course yeah, you can be whatever you want to be" I wink at her and she looks at Thea.

"See you at school Speedy." She says practically skipping out the room. I laugh and turn back to Thea and Oliver.

"Sorry about her." Thea says to me and Oliver.

"Don't worry, I loved her She's so cute. Make sure to tell her that." I say laughing.

"I have something for you." Oliver says pulling out the Hozen.

"You did not come back from a deserted island with a souvenir." Thea says crossing her arms looking at Oliver.

"Its a Hozen. And in Buddhism, it symbolizes reconnecting. I kept it in hopes that one day it could reconnect me with you." He hands the the Hozen to Thea.

"A rock. That is sweet. You know I want one of those T-shirts that say my friend and sister were castaways. All I got was this crappy shirt." Tommy says walking in and smiling at all three of us.

"Don't let him get you into too much trouble. You two just got back, take it slow." She says hugging both of us individually.

Tommy clears his throat. "The city awaits." Oliver nods.

"You're so annoying you know that right." I tell Tommy as we all walk out.

Oliver takes my hand and intertwines our fingers again.

"Do you notice how hot your sister's gotten?" Tommy says pointing back at the door. Oliver turns back to him with his lips together. "Because I have not." Tommy says. I let out a laugh while we walk out.

-------

We are driving through the city.

"Your funerals blew." Tommy says while driving. Oliver looks over at him smiling.

"Did you get lucky" Oliver asks him.

"Fish in a barrel. They were so sad and huggy-" Tommy says while laughing

"Omg No" I say.

"No." Oliver says squeezing his eyes together.

"- And I am counting on another target rich environment for your welcome-bash." Tommy says putting his eyes on the road.

"At our what?" Oliver asks in confusion.

"You guys came back from the dead. This calls for a party. You tell me where and when. Ill take care of everything." Tommy says as me and Oliver both shake our heads.

We pull up to the Glades.

"This city's gone to crap. You know, you're dad sold his factory just in time. And why'd you want to drive through this neighborhood anyway?" Tommy asks Oliver.

"Tommy." I say rolling my eyes and sitting back.

"No reason." Oliver says looking outside.

"So what'd you two miss the most. Steaks at the Palm, drinks at the station? Meaningless sex?" Tommy asks.

"Not you that's for sure." I answer and laughed.

"Haha so funny jellybean" Tommy says sarcastically.

"Laurel." Oliver answers and my smiled practically dropped. Oliver told me he was over her.

"Everyone is happy you're alive. You want to see the one person who isn't?" Tommy asks him.

Oliver justs shrugs.

-(WITH LAUREL)

"Laurel, I just got this from Hunts lawyers." Anastasia says taking Laurels arm. She hands her the files. "They filed a change of venue. We are now in front of Judge Grell." She claps her hands together looking over at Laurel.

"Hunt funded Grells reelection campaign. He's got Grell in the back of his pocket." Laurel says handing the file back to Anastasia.

"You know, its fun being your friend. I get to tell you I told you so a lot." She says brings Laurel into a side hug.

"No. Adam Hunt isn't smarter than we are." She says trying to prove her point.

"No, he's just richer and willing to commit multiple felonies." Anastasia says.

"We don't need to go outside the law-" Laurel says before Anastasia cuts her off.

"To find justice. Your dads favorite jingle" She says rolling her eyes.

Anastasia walks away. Laurel turns around and her smile drops as she sees Oliver.

"Hello, Laurel." Oliver says with a smile on his face.

-(OUTSIDE WITH OLIVER AND LAUREL)-

"You went to law school. You said you would." Oliver says while they walk.

"Yeah everyones proud." Laurel says not trying to make it seem like she cares.

"Adam Hunt's a heavy hitter. You sure you want to get into the ring with him" Oliver looks at her while asking.

"Five years and you wanna talk about Adam Hunt." Laurel says blankly.

Oliver shakes his head. "No. Not really" He smiles a bit stopping.

"Why are you here Ollie?" She asks while turning to look at him.

"To apologize." He says plainly. "It was my fault. I wanted to ask you not to blame her or (Y/N)."

"For what? Falling under your spell? How can I possibly blame her or (Y/N) for doing the same things that I did?" Laurel says.

"I never meant to-" Oliver tries to say but Laurel cuts him off.

"She was my sister. And (Y/N) was my best friend." She said. "I couldn't be angry they were dead. I couldn't grieve because I was so angry. That's what happens when your sister and best friend die while screwing your boyfriend" She tries to hold in her tears. "We buried an empty casket, because her body was at the bottom of the ocean. Where you left her. It should've been you."

Oliver takes in everything she said. "I know its too late to say this, but im sorry." He says to her with sincerity.

"Yeah im sorry to." Laurel says with tears in her eyes. "I'd hope you'd rot in hell a whole lot longer than five years." She says walking away from him.

"How'd you think that was going to go, Tommy?" She says to Tommy while walking into the office.

"About like that." He says.

-------

We all walk into where Tommy had parked the car.

"Okay, so we took care of that. Good call." He says while walking towards the car. "Now we make up for lost time."

I walk beside Tommy looking down at my feet while walking to the car.

"If you're not too sick for fish, I suggest we find some leggy models and eat sushi all day." Tommy says. "What do you say-"

A van pulls up behind us quickly.

"What the hell?"

I turn back around and see two guys with red devil masks and a gun. They point the gun at me and I put my hands up.

They shoot Tommy. I was relived that they're tranquilizers and not actual bullets.

I run over to the guys and knock down one of them. I jump on the guy who shot Tommy and put him in a black widow submission move. I can feel his body go limp and I let go slowly just incase he wasn't actually passed out. I get down and the guy drops on the floor next to the other guy.

I see the guy that I knocked down get up and shoots Oliver with a tranquilizer as well. I look at Oliver on the floor. Then I feel something hit my neck and I touch the spot. I got hit.

"Shi-" I managed to get out before hitting the floor. Hard.

Oliver isn't fully down and he sees a guy who comes from the back door of the restaurant and another masked guy shoots him. Oliver then passes out.

-(FLASHBACK)-

"Here. Drink" Robert passes a water bottle to Oliver.

"What the hell are you doing? That's all we've got." Says a crew member almost yelling at Robert.

Oliver hands me the water bottle and I take a sip.

"If anybody's making it out of here, its going to be them." Robert tells him. "Im sorry.I thought id have more time. Im not the man you think I am. I didn't build our city. I failed it. And I wasn't the only one." When he said that last sentence he looked at me. I knew instantly he was talking about my father.

-(END OF FLASHBACK)-

"Mr.Queen. Mr Queen!" "Ms. Merlyn. Ms.Merlyn." I hear a voice calling. I open my eyes slowly. I open my eyes and it was still dark.

Someone takes the the bag off of my head. My hair flys onion my face and I throw my head back to move the hair out my face. I hear a taser and I look over at Oliver. They placed us next to each other. I look around at my surroundings.

"Did your father survive that accident?" The masked guy asked.

I see Tommy passed out on a wooden thing with his hands tied behind his back.

"I asked a questions. You give me answers." The guys gets closer to Olivers face.

I move my wrists around and try to get loose from the zip ties. He tases Oliver.

"Did he make it to the island? Did he tell you anything?" He looks at Oliver while breathing heavily. I finally get free from the zip ties and get up with out the other guys noticing.

"Hey um excuse me sir. I really I have to use the bathroom is it this way or this way" I point in different directions.

"Yeah they're just over the-" He realizes that im free. I break the chair over his back and grab two broken legs and stab the other two guys with it. I clap my hands together. "That was easy." I laugh while untying Oliver. I put them in a corner and zip tie them.

-(AT QUEEN MANOR)

"So that's your story, a guy in a green hood flew in and single-handedly took out three armed kidnappers." Detective Lance asked us. "I mean, who is he? Why, why would he do that?"

"I don't know." Oliver says.

"Find him and you can ask him." I tell Detective Lance with my arms crossed and a serious look on my face.

"Yeah. What about you? You see the hood guy?" Lance asks Tommy.

"I saw... just movement." Tommy says still trying to wrap his head around everything. "Everything blurry. I, I was kinda out of it." Oliver looks at Tommy then at Lance

"Its funny isn't it. One day back and already somebody's gunning you two." Lance says looking at both of us. "Aren't you popular?"

"Were you able to identify the men?" Moira steps in asking Lance.

"Scrubbed identities, untraceable weapons." Says Lances partner. "These were pros."

"Yeah." Lance says. "Well, they probably figured you'd pay a kings ransom to get your boy back or a Queens ransom as it were." Lance looks a Moira. "After all a parent would do anything to keep their child safe." Lance says looking at Oliver.

"I don't find your tone appropriate, detective." Moira says.

"I mean you would know about wanting to keep you child safe right Quentin. You have two of your own right? Or should I say one?" I look at Lance with a straight face.

Lance was about to say something but Walter stands up from his seat and walks closer to Lance,

"If Oliver and Ms.Merlyn can think of anything else, we'll be in touch. Thank you gentleman for coming." Walter says, putting his hands in his pocket while looking at Lance and his partner.

Lance scoffs and puts the drawing away. Oliver gets up and straightens his clothes. I stand up as well.

"Your luck never seems to run out, does it?" He says looking at both of us. Raisia walk the men out of the house.

"Im going home now." I say while walking to Moira. "Thank you for having me Moria, it was a pleasure staying over and getting to see you again." I tell her while hugging her and kissing both of her cheeks.

"Why leaving so soon hun?" Moira asks with sad eyes.

"I have to see my dad. I haven't seen him since I got back." I told her and she brings me into a hug.

"Okay, be careful hun okay? and remember this will always be your home okay." She says.

"Okay." I say walking away without saying anything to Tommy or Oliver.

-(WITH OLIVER IN HIS ROOM)-

Oliver sits at his desk searching up everything he can find on Adam Hunt. He looks at a piece paper but then puts it down. He sees a picture of you and him and another photo of him and Laurel. He flips over his fathers book and he sees that Adams name is in it.

"You are different. Not like you to read a book." Raisa says walking into his room with a tray in her hand. Oliver flips over the book and closes the tab he was on. He sits back and smiles.

"I misses you Raisa." He says.

"No kitchen on the island." She says.

"No. No friends either. Except (Y/N), but she's not really a friend she's more like my.." Oliver says trying to find the word.

"Your girlfriend?" She says smiling at her.

"Yeah. My girlfriend." He says smiling. 'My girlfriend' he says again in his head.

"Hey. Thank you." He says getting up and grabbing the tray from Raisa. She smiles and nods at him. "Do I really seem different?" He asks her putting the tray down on his bed.

"No. You're still a good boy." She says.

"Oh I think we both know I wasn't."

"But a good heart"

"I hope so. I want to be the person you told me I could be."

-(WITH YOU AT THE MERLYN MANOR)

I walk into to my house. I look around and see that everything's still the same. I put my jacket on the coat rack and I walk in.

I look around at all the photos my dad has of me and Tommy when we were younger. I smile and cross my arms while browsing through the photos. I come across this one photo of me and my mom. I take it and look at it. I smile at it while running my fingers on the frame. I can feel tears forming in my eyes but I hold them back just in case someone sees me. I hear the front door open. I hear my dads voice. He was on the phone. I keep looking at the photo waiting him to walk into the room.

Since the room was kind of dark, only a little light from the dining room came into the living area.

He sighs as he puts his coat on the coat rack. He walks into the living area and sees a figure.

"Who are you?" He says stopping in his tracks, trying to make out my figure.

"That's no way to greet your daughter. Dad." I say as I turn around to look at him. I place the picture back on the table.

"Jellybean? Is that really you?" He asks me on the verge of tears. He looks rough. He had red eyes, eye bags, crooked tie, messed up shirt, stains on the shirt.

He brings me into a hug. He reeks of alcohol and Big Belly Burger. He was sweating. I hug him back but eventually pull back. I couldn't stand the smell he had.

"I missed you so much jellybean. Everythings been falling apart ever since you disappeared. Ive been falling apart since you left.I felt lost. The same way I felt when your mother died." He says. I nod understanding his hurt.

"Did you leave Tommy alone? Like you left us when mom died?" I ask him crossing my arms. He nods disappointedly.

"Fucking shit dad. are you serious right now. Just because you were hurt and broken I was gone. didn't mean leave your son alone to grieve my so on so 'death' alone just because you couldn't handle it. You're such a dick you know that right." I scoff and start walking out.

"(Y/N) wait!-" He says running after me.

"Dad go take a shower and get some sleep. Call me when your fucking sober." I tell him grabbing my coat off the coat rack and walking out of the house.

I hop on my motorcycle and put my helmet off.

-(WITH OLIVER)

Oliver walks out of the house but Moira stops him.

"Oliver, I wanna introduce you to someone." She says reaching out for his hand. Walter stands next to her. A man who had a serious look on his face. "John Diggle. He'll be accompanying you from now on." She says smiling at him.

"I don't need a babysitter." Oliver says looking at both Walter and Moira.

"Darling, Oliver's a grown man. And if he doesn't feel he needs armed protection-" Walter couldn't finish before Moira interrupted him.

"You know, I understand, but this is something I need." She says looking at Walter then back at Oliver.

Oliver looks at John.

----

"So.. What do I call you" Oliver asks John.

"Diggle's good." Diggle responds to Oliver. "Dig of you want."

"You're ex-military?" Olivers asks Diggle

"Yes, sir. 105th airborne out of Kandahar, retired." Diggle says keeping his eyes on the road. "Been in the private sector for a little more than four years now. I don't want there to be any confusion Mr.Queen. My ability to keep you from harm will outweigh your comfort. Do we have an agreement? Sir?" Diggle looks at the mirror then looks back. He sees Oliver isn't in the back anymore. He stops the car and gets out. He opens the back door and looks inside.

-----

Oliver walks with a duffle bag and a book bag. He looks around to see if there is anyone around. He makes it to Queen industrial. He throws his bags over and hops over the fence. He picks up both bags and puts them on his shoulder.

-----

Oliver opens the doors into the factory and walks in. They're are papers everywhere. He looks down and sees that he step on an 'Annual Report' with his dads face on it.

'The abduction was unexpected. It forced me to move up my plans. But what I told the police was true. The man with the green hood was there in that warehouse and he was just beginning.'

Oliver makes a hole in the floor. He grabs a package and drops it with a rope in a big space. He starts tearing up floors.

He powers up the lights. He sets everything up.

He looks at the computer with a map and goes to another computer that he uses to hack.

He puts some safety goggles on and sits down near where his arrows are. He starts sharpening them.

he starts working out. (I did not feel like writing everything did in this scene.)

He takes the case that he brought from Lian-Yu out. He takes his bow out and examines it. He walks over next to the table and throws tennis balls at the wall. He throws arrows at the tennis balls. When he stops he hit all the balls ;).

----

Oliver finished training and sits down. He sits down in front of the TV.

"The suit alleges that Hunt committed multiple acts of fraud and theft against the city's underprivileged." Says the new anchor.

Oliver looks at the book that had the names in it.

"Laurel Lance, an attorney for the city necessary-"

'Adam Hunt. His crimes go deeper than fraud and theft but he's been able to bully, bribe or kill anyone who's gotten in his way. He hasn't met us yet.' Oliver grabs his suit and puts it on.

-(WITH YOU AT YOUR PENTHOUSE)-

I walk into my house and all the lights are turned off. My dad must've not wanted to give it away. I put my jacket on the coat rack and my keys in my key bowl.

"Its cold in here" I say to myself as I fully walk in. I walk up the stairs and go to my room. I hop into the shower and change. I put on a 1995 Chanel cropped jacket with some ripped blue jeans. I do my hair and walk downstairs. I walk into the kitchen and walk to the fridge.

"Marge?" I say yelling out for my AI.

"Welcome back Ms. Merlyn." Marge says.

"Its good to be back Marge" I say smiling.

"Marge mind playing my playlist for me?" I ask her.

"I do not mind at all Ms.Merlyn." She says.

-Playing Back to Black-

I start singing along to the song. I move my hips side to side

"You go back to her and I go back to" I sing along while grabbing stuff out the fridge.

I hear something fall over and I stop.

"Marge. Lower the music." I say quietly and she lowers the music.

I grab my katana that Oliver gave me from its stand. I take off my heels and start walking slowly outside. I hear rubbling. I walk into my foyer and see a large figure in a suit. They lights of my dining room were off so I couldn't see properly.

"Ill give you three seconds to reveal yourself or ill chop you up into pieces." I say walking closer to the dining room.

I jump on the person and do the black widow submission hold. I can feel the person become limb and I slowly get off and I drag the person to the kitchen and sit them on the chair in the kitchen. I take off their hood and I see their face.

"What the fuck." I say in disbelief. Its Oliver. The last person I want to see. I put my heels and continue to cook.

I pour myself a mega pint of wine in my glass. I wipe my head and look at Oliver.

'What the actual fuck was going to plan on doing.' I say to myself. I just continue cooking.

I drink my wine and stare at Oliver. He starts moving and grunts. by this time I've finished eating

"Sleeping beauty's alive! What a surprise." I say sarcastically while taking a sip of my wine.

"What the hel-" He looks at me in shock.

"What didn't expect me to be in my house Oliver?" I say while finishing my food.

I get up and put my plate and fork in the dishwasher.

"Do you want some or?? because I made a lot and im not going to eat more." I say blankly not looking at him.

"Well? Are you going to explain what you're doing breaking into my house Oliver?" I look at him taking another sip of my wine.

"Oliver? Why aren't you call me Ollie hun?" Oliver says sitting up.

"I don't know" I shrug. "Cause I don't want to I guess."

Oliver grunts in pain and clutches his chest.

"Hold on let my fix that up for you." I say grabbing the first aid kit from under the sink.

I pull up the chair in front of him. I take off his hood and his shirt. I open the kit and grab the thread and needle. I start to stitch his shoulder. I don't ask him about anything that happened.

"If I get your blood on my jacket im making you buy me a new one." I say while concentrating on stitching his shoulder.

"Okay will do." He says.

I finish stitching him up and I start putting the stuff away. I bandage him up just in case.

"Why are you mad at me hun?" He asks me while taking my hand softly.

I snatch my hand away softly and get up.

"Im not mad. Im completely fine." I say putting the first aid kit away.

"You don't seem fine (Y/N)." He says looking at me as I throw away the stuff with blood.

"I don't know, would I be fine if my boyfriend comes back from the dead with me and the first thing he wants to do when he comes back is go to see his ex girlfriend. AFTER telling me you were over her. No I don't think im fine 'hun'" I roll my eyes at him.

"I-" He was about to start talking but I cut him off.

"Can you just.. leave please. I want to be alone right now." I say.

"I-" Oliver was about to say something again.

"Just leave please." I tell him and he grabs his stuff and leaves.

I down the rest of my wine. This is going to be a longgg night.

-(IN THE MORNING WITH HUNT)

"He was wearing a hood, a green hood. And he had a bow and arrow." Hunt says to Lance and his partner. "What you don't believe me? That maniac put two of my men in the hospital."

"Well thanks for your statement."Lance says as Hunt hands over the arrow to his partner. "We'll put an APB on... Robin Hood." He says looking at the arrow and back and Hunt.

"Hey, pal. Im not some grocer who got take for his register. I go to the front of the line. Now he said he would be here by 10pm. Make sure you're here first." Hunt says as Lance nods his head. "You can coordinate with Mr. Drakon my new head of security." Hunts points to a man who is wearing all black and a leather jacket with gloves. He had his hands on his hips.

"Alright well uh thanks for your time." Lance smirks and walks out with his partner.

"It looks like Queen and Merlyn were telling the truth." Says Lances partner.

"Yeah well there's a first time for everything." Lance says as they walk to the elevator. "This hooded guy comes looking for trouble, he'll find it.

-(WITH YOU)

You wake up to rustling nosies. You get up quickly with a knife in your hand. You wake up to see Tommy opening your blinds.

"What the actual fuck Thomas." I say blocking the afternoon sun out of my face with the hand I have my knife in.

"Cmon Jellybean, its 5pm and your party is in 3 hours." He says sitting next to me.

"Can I just stay here? Im not really in a party mood right now bear." I lay back down and put the comforter over my face.

"Nope, nope nope we are not doing this. Oliver told me what happened." He says taking the comforter off and dragging me off the bed. "The maids are here to clean so you have to get up."

"ya ub'yu tebya golymi rukami" I say under my breath while walking to my bathroom.

(Im going to kill you with my bare hands.)

"What was that?" He says.

"Etot ostrov pokazal mne mnogo veshchey, i ya sobirayus' pokazat' vam odin iz navykov, kotorym ya nauchilsya. Snachala ub'yu tebya golymi rukami." I say louder.

"I still cant understand you jellybean." He says.

"that island showed me a lot of things and im going to show you one of the skills i learned. First is kill you with my bare hands Thomas." I say rolling my eyes and walking into the bathroom.

I can hear the shock in his movement. I hear him about to say something.

"Say something else Thomas." I throw a knife at him and made sure to miss.

"Next time I won't miss." I close the door and started to get ready.

-----

I get out the shower and start to get ready. I blow my hair out and do some light make up. I walk into my room and I start getting dressed. I put on a silk Dolce and Gabbana old Hollywood dress on. I pair it with a Ophelie T-strap sandals from Gucci of course. I put on a necklace and a pair of earrings and golden Ippolita anniversary stack on.

I walk out of my room and Tommy is waiting for me in the foyer. He looked at me stark struck.

"Thomas if you say something. I will make sure to chop your limbs off piece by piece." I tell him while grabbing my dress so I can walk properly.

-(WITH OLIVER)

Oliver walks out of the house and unbuttons his jacket and opens the door. He peeps his head in and sees Diggle.

"Put on your seat belt, sir. Wouldn't want you to miss your party." He says to Oliver.

Oliver accepts his defeat and gets into the car.

-(AT THE CLUB)

I walk into the by myself because I told Tommy to get there before me because I wanted to go on my bike.

I walk in and I see Oliver.

"Oh great." I say under my breath.

I walk up next to Oliver and I don't say anything. I can feel him look over at me.

"You look amazing tonight." He says while looking at me up and down.

"You don't look to bad yourself Oliver." I say.

"Well should we start walking down?" He asks me and offers my hand. I take it.

We start walking down the stairs and he takes his phone out of his pocket. The time reads 9:07pm. Tommy sees us and looks at his hand in hand and smirks. Tommy asks the DJ to cut the music and he runs up to us.

"Everybody, hey! Man and Woman of the hour!" He says wrapping his arm around Olivers shoulder and slaps his chest. "Whoo! And ladies, please give this man a proper homecoming." Tommy says we both walk down the stairs.

"Thank you very much everybody!" Oliver tells the crowd

"Ollie, Ollie, Ollie, Ollie. Jellybean!" He hands us shots of tequila. We all take the shot and I squeeze my face.

"I missed tequila!" I yell out and the crowd cheers.

-(WITH HUNT)

Hunt picks up his glass of whiskey, the time reads 9:25pm. He takes a sip of the whiskey. His men are getting ready, loading up their guns with bullets and giving each other magazines.

"What the hell is going on out there?" Hunt asks Drakon who is staring outside the window.

"Party for the guy and chick who got rescued off that island." Drakon tells Hunt. "Oliver Queen and (Y/N) Merlyn."

Adam takes another sips and he walks away angrily.

-(AT THE CLUB)

Oliver is flirting is out somewhere flirting with other girls some where else. Im on the dance floor dancing with a guy.

Tommy walks up to Oliver and they both look at Diggle.

"Hey, does he wipe for you, too?" Tommy asks. "Now by my rough estimate you have not had sex in 1839 day."

"Uhhh well you're wrong actually bud." Oliver says

"Oh wow really with who? Is she anyone I know?" Tommy turns around and looks around.

"Yes. It is." Oliver says while smirking.

"Well who's the lucky lady?" Tommy asks again. Olivers looking at you on the dance floor dancing with another guy.

"That shall forever remain a secret." Oliver says.

"Wells lets find you another gal. And as your wing man, I highly recommend Carmen Golden." Tommy says.

"Which one is she?" Oliver asks crossing his arms while looking at three girls who are dancing.

"The one that looks like the chick from Twilight." Tommy says.

"What's Twilight?" Oliver asks confused

"You're so better off not knowing."

I walk over to Ollie.

"Did you invite T? She's over there talking with some dude and her friends are here too. And the last time I checked they were all 17." I look at Oliver crossing my arms as I looked at Thea. The guy hands Thea something and me and Oliver look at each other.

"We'll be back in a minute." Oliver says. We walk next to each other and walk over to Thea.

"Ollie (Y/N), hey!" Thea says "Well this party is sick." She says smiling.

"Who let you in here?" Oliver asks her.

"I- I believe it was someone who said 'Right this way Miss. Queen"

"Well you shouldn't be here T." I tell her with a soft caring look on my face while my arms are crossed.

"(Y/N) im not 12 anymore." She looks at me.

"No, you're 17." Oliver says

"Ollie (Y/N) I, I love you. But you cant come back here and judge me." She looks at him. "Especially for being like you two." She looks at both of us and I just stand there in shock.

"I know that it couldn't have been easy for you when we were away-" Oliver tells her before she cuts him off.

"Away? No you guys died. My brother, my sister and my father died." She said. I felt bad for her, knowing she went through all of that at a young age. "I went to your funerals."

"We know T." I say.

"No, you don't. Mom had Walter and I had no one. You guys act like its cool. Lets forget about the last five years. Well I cant. For me, its kind of permanently in there so im sorry if I turned out some major disappointment. But this, me is the best I can do with what I had to work with" She said. "Lets bounce." She walks over to her friends.

"You have the fun dip?" Theas friend asks her.

"Yeah, its, its right here. No I, I must've dropped it." Thea says.

I show the little bottle to Oliver and he smirks at me. We walk over to the trash and he throws it out. Diggle saw us and just smirked while buttoning his jacket. We walk the opposite direction and Oliver bumps into someone. Laurel. God damn she's everywhere. I roll my eyes and look at them

"Oh! Oh. You're here." He says to her.

"Tommy. He made me realize the point that we have too many years between us to leave things the way we left them." She says. "Is there someplace quieter that we could go?" She asks.

I scoff and I look at Oliver. I look at him and he's about to take her somewhere else. I let go of his hand.

"Yeah." He smiles at her taking her somewhere else.

"Whatever dude." I say under my breath as I roll my eyes. I go to the bar and I ask the bartender for his strongest drink.

"Give me the good stuff." I wink at him and he starts to prepare my drink.

"Im going to need a couple so keep em' coming" I tell him as I down the first shot.

-(WITH LAUREL AND OLIVER)

"Im sorry about saying that you should've been the one who died. That was wrong" Laurel apologizes to Oliver.

"If I could trade places with her, I would." Oliver says.

Laurel stops and faces Oliver.

"About Sarah.. there's been something I've been afraid to ask but I need to know." She says holding back her tears.

"Okay." Oliver says softly.

"When she died.. did she suffer?" She tilts her head asking while tears form in her eyes.

"No! Sarah!"

"Aah!"

"No." Oliver tells her.

"I think about her everyday." Laurel says.

"Me too." Oliver say sympathetically.

" I guess we still have one thing in common then. I cant believe im going to say this, but.. if you need someone to talk to about what happened to you, im here." She tells him.

Olivers phone starts ringing. The time reads 10pm and there is nothing in the account. He sighs and puts his phone away.

"Something wrong?" Laurel asks.

"I asked somebody to do something. They didn't do it. Laurel. You always saw the best in me. Right now, that's what you're doing. You're looking at me and you're wondering if that island changed me somehow? If it made me a better person? It didn't. Stay away from me otherwise.. im just going to hurt you again. This time it will be worse. Got to roll. I got five years of debauchery to catch up on." He says about to walk away.

Laurel gets closer and she looks like she's about to cry.

"You know what Oliver.. You're wrong that island did change you. At least now you're honest." Laurel walks away. Oliver rolls his eyes and stands there.

-(INSIDE)

Oliver walks through the back. Diggle's there waiting for him.

"Something I can help you with, sir?" Diggle asks while fixing his sleeves. Oliver stops in his tracks.

Oliver turns back to look at him.

"I just wanted a second to myself." Oliver says with a fake smile.

"I would believe you, Mr.Queen, if you weren't so full of crap." Diggle tells Oliver. "Party's this way." Diggle points to the entrance to the club.

Oliver goes to the door and grabs the door knob.

"Its locked." He says making Diggle try to go open it.

Before Diggle touched the knob, Oliver grabs him and puts him a headlock.

-(WITH HUNT)

"You two cover the elevator. Hang back and be ready." Says Drakon to four men with guns. He starts walking towards Hunts office. "Stay in the corners and stay alert." He walks into Hunts office and closes the door. He puts in a code in a keypad and it locks the door.

"Its past 10. He's never getting in here."

Oliver throws an arrow next to Hunts window and I do the same.

The lights turn off. They look at the door and once of Hunts guards stands by the door waiting. The elevator dings. Oliver walks out of the elevator and start punching the guys near the elevator.

Oliver throws his bow at a guy and jump kick of the wall onto the ground while holding him.

"You know. Its really a bummer you had to call the cops for back up. I didn't expect a man with so much power needed back up. But with every powerful man comes a coward under the mask." I say crossing my legs looking at Hunt. His bodyguard and Drakon put their guns up and I laugh.

"tch tch tch, play easy boys, no need to get violent." I say laughing. "You know you guys are honestly so dumb" I say putting their magazines from their guns on the table. "Drakon, and you call yourself the head of security but how did you not hear me or my partner." Adam and Drakon go to reach for their walkie talkies.

Oliver throws one of the men threw the door and the other bodyguard shoots him. Oliver walks in and shoots the bodyguards. Drakon grabs my foot and drags me off the table which makes me hit my head on the table hard. I place my hand on the back of my head. As I moved my hand I see blood and I immediately become light headed. The last thing I saw was Oliver and Drakon fighting.

Adam makes his escape and calls Lance.

"Hes here." Adam says walking onto the elevator.

"All units, coverage" Lance says into the walkie talkie. "All units, converge!" Lance yells walking to the building.

By the time Lance makes it to the floor we're on Oliver threw a throwing star at Drakons neck. By the time they made it the floor, Oliver already grabbed me and zip lined to the clubs roof.

-(WITH YOU AND OLIVER)

Oliver walks into the bathroom with you in his arms, he takes off your costume and puts you back in your dress and shoes. He hears some voices yelling and he realizes its Lance. He puts your head on his lap and starts stroking your hair. He threw your duffle bags into one of the garbage in the cans in the hallways.

"Starling City Police! Open up!" Lance says from the other side of the door.

"Its open!" Oliver says while rubbing your back.

"Ha-" Lance was going to say something but then he realizes that you and Oliver are on the floor.

"Is she okay? does she need any medical assistance?" Lance asks sarcastically.

"No, she didn't feel well so she's just resting for a little." Oliver says with a smile on his face.

"Did you know your guy in the green hood just attacked Adam Hunt just next door." Lance says putting his hands in his pocket.

"Whos Adam Hunt?" Oliver asks. He gets up and makes his way back to the floor. "Hey! 2 million dollars to the person who finds a guy in a green hood." The crowd cheers and Oliver goes back to you.

He picks you out bridal style and carries you out the club.

"Ollie! Ollie!" Tommy yells out. Oliver turns around and looks at him. "Is she okay?" He asks while walking up the stairs with Oliver.

"Yeah she fine. She just passed out so im taking her home." He tells Tommy as they arrive to the entrance.

"Alright, take care of her. Ill tell everyone you left." Tommy puts his hand on Olivers shoulder and walks back down to the party.

Oliver places you in the car and drives off to the base.

----

You get to the base and Oliver takes you out of the car. He picks you up bridal style and takes you inside.

He places you on the table softly and steps back. He looks at you and admires you. He smiles then grabs the case. He takes out the herbs Yao Fei had given him. He mashes it up and puts water in it. He lifts your head and makes you drink it.

Your fight or flight activated and you started attacking Oliver. Oliver took both your hands and put them together. He puts hand cuffs on your right hand and cuffs it to the table.

----

In the morning, Oliver is sitting at the desk, Hes looking at the money transferring into all the peoples accounts. He looks at the book and crosses Adams name out. He looks at the photo of his father from the book he had picked up the other day.

-(FLASHBACK)-

Everyone is asleep except Robert. (Y/N) had her head on Olivers shoulder while having their fingers intertwined and Robert had his hand around Oliver. Robert was looking at the crewmate, asleep with a knife in his hand.

"There's not enough for all of us." Robert whispers in Olivers ear. Oliver wakes up and looks at his father.

"Save your strength." Oliver tells his father.

"You two can survive this." Robert says whispering to his son. "Make it home, make it better. 'Right my wrongs.' But you got to live through this first." Robert says shaking Oliver making sure hes listening to him and not falling asleep. "You hear me Ollie? You hear me son?" Robert asks.

"You just rest dad." Oliver says quietly trying not to wake you up and falling back asleep.

"Yup." He says bluntly while kissing Olivers head. He moves Oliver off of him, which makes (Y/N) moves a little to adjust to the new position.

Robert pulls out a gun and shoots the crewmate. This make (Y/N) and Oliver jump.

"Dad?" Oliver says in shock.

"Survive." Robert says before putting the gun to his head and shooting himself.

"No! No!" Oliver yells while you try to keep him calm. (Y/N) bring him over to you and you grab his hand and put his head on your shoulder. He starts crying and you just let him.

-(END OF FLASHBACK)-

Oliver sits back in his seat remembering what had happened in that safety boat. He hears your groaning in pain.

"I feel like im having the worst hangover of my life." I say while groaning and putting my free hand on my face.

"Says the girl who's spent her whole 20's in a hangover." Says Oliver turning around to look at me in the chair.

"Un-cuff me. Please." I ask him and and he gets up and grabs the key to the cuff.

He un-cuffs you and you move your wrist. You get up and look at him.

"I need to go home and change. I smell as bad as you did on the island." I say laughing at my own joke. I grab my heels and start walking out.

"Ha ha very funny (Y/N)" Oliver says sarcastically.

"Whatever!!" You say walking out.

-(WITH LAUREL)

"If hypothetically $50,000 magically appeared in your bank account it might be best for you not to speak about it to anyone ever." Laurel says talking to someone on the phone. She laughs. "God bless you, too."

"I just got a very grateful phone call for one of our clients against Adam Hunt." Say Anastasia to Laurel.

"Me too." Laurel says while shaking her head and smiling.

"It looks like Starling City has a guardian angel." Anastasia says. She leans in closer and whispers "By the way, your cute friend is here." Anastasia says. Laurels smile drops and she turns around her chair. Tommy's standing there with his hands in his pocket smiling.

----

"You left the party pretty quick last night even after I made sure the bar was stocked with pinot noir."Tommy says.

"It wasn't really my scene."Laurel says.

"I thought maybe you and Oliver went Mano a Mano again. I saw you two head out." Tommy says teasing her.

"There's nothing between Oliver and I, not anymore." She says making sure he understood.

"And here I thought the only thing between you and Oliver was us." He says looking away.

"I wouldn't exactly characterize us as an us, Tommy." She says while she stops walking.

"Then what would you call it?" He asks her.

"A lapse."

"That's quite a few lapses." He states. "Your place, my place, my place again." He smiles. Laurel looks at him and chuckles.

"Oh, come on, Merlyn, we both know that you're not a one-girl type of guy."

"Depends on the girl." He says looking at her.

"I have to go back to work." She tells him getting ready to start walking back. She turns around and Tommy shakes his head.

"Dinah Laurel Lance. Always trying to save the world." He says and she turns around.

"Hey, if I don't try to save it, who will?" She asks him with a smile on her face. She turns back around and goes back to work.

Oliver was there, the entire time listening in into their whole conversation.

"She says the island changed me."

-(FLASHBACK)-

"She has no idea how much."

Oliver sits up and tries to fix his vision.

"There are many more names on the list those who rule our city through intimidation and fear. Every last one of them will wish we had died on that island."

He taps (Y/N) awake and points to the island they are approaching.

-(AT QUEEN MANOR)-

A man walks down the stairs and starts talking.

"The police failed to identify the men I hired to kidnap Oliver and(Y/N). They never will." The man says. "Should we arrange another abduction?" he asks.

"No. There are other ways of finding out what my son knows." Taglist:

#oliver queen #stephen amell #green arrow #arrow #dc #dc arrow #oliver queen x reader #justcallmeely #dc arrowverse

192 notes · View notes

saintmurd0ck · 10 months

Text

shatter me

masterlist

pairing: michael kinsella x f!reader

summary: when michael has a rough night on the job, he looks to you as a source of relief

warnings: lowkey DARK dominant michael, submissive reader, amanda slander, choking, face fucking / m!receiving oral, fingering, p in v, orgasm denial, cockteasing, creampie, etc who the fuck knows

a/n: this is dedicated to my wonderful, beautiful @marvelswh0re -- to whom this was owed from back in october last year 😭💗 also CAN WE FUCKING TALK ABOUT THE BANNER?

song pairings: michael kinsella (an anthology)

The front door shuts with a soft click, bringing with it cool tendrils of night air that snake around your arms. The words in your throat sit thickly as the zipper of his jacket hisses open, thick leather crinkling as it’s draped over the banister.

“It’s late, Michael,” you call softly, setting your book down next to you. Your eyes search for the man who’s kept you up all night.

Despite him being a shadow in your periphery, you feel him stiffen. Calm fury washes over the house for all of two seconds before Michael sets his gun on the console table, metal meeting wood with a heavy hand.

On near-silent feet, he emerges from the hallway a minute later, his hardened gaze meeting yours.

You’re the first to extend an olive branch, casting aside the urge to grimace at the blood speckling his face, or the haunted look in his eyes. “You okay, Mikey?”

He stares blankly ahead, lips pressing into a thin line. It’s not his blood.

That’s as much emotion as he’ll ever show on nights like these.

You leap from your spot on the couch, to intercept him before he reaches the kitchen, but he holds out a hand. “Need t’ do it myself.”

Chewing on your lip, you watch with strained eyes as he wets a cloth before lifting it to his bloodied face. The water runs crimson as he wrings it out, droplets sliding over the reddish-purple splotches marring his knuckles.

“That bad, huh, Mikey?” you say, ignoring the uneven rise and fall of your chest. His shoulders slump as he throws the cloth in the sink.

“Michael,” you insist, restlessness colouring your tone. “Talk to me.”

He shakes his head, bristling as he pushes off the countertop. He doesn’t talk, no. Instead, he makes his way over to you, his steps deliberate enough you almost assume he’s heading back outside.

Michael blows out a shaky breath as he towers over you, hazel eyes boring into your own. Unable to look away, the hairs on your arms stand up, on par with the want beginning to pool deep within. He swallows, tracking the way your gaze flits to the muscle feathering in his cheek, to the trace of hair peeking out from underneath the edge of his sweater. He toys with the hem of your shirt, bunching the fabric in his hand, before dragging the tip of his finger up the column of your throat.

His name is a trembling prayer on your lips as he lifts your chin up, faces bare millimetres apart.

“Don’t wanna talk, pet,” he murmurs, catching your bottom lip in his teeth.

A shudder fires down your spine as you slip your tongue into his mouth, savouring his warmth, the taste of smoke and whiskey that’s always been Michael. “Then show me what you want.”

It isn’t the lack of urgency in your voice that fractures his restraint. As he wraps his hand around your throat, a faint growl resonating in his chest, it’s what you leave unspoken that makes him explode.

Shatter me.

He drives you down onto the couch, stifling your moan as he squeezes your neck tighter. “I don’t want you hurt, pet,” he whispers, leaving open-mouthed kisses over your jaw, “so you tell me if you can’t handle it, yeah?”

You smirk, bucking your hips into his erection. “You know I can.”

The melody of his groans spur you to hook your legs around his middle, giving him full access to grind into your core. He wrests back his control, determined to replenish the well, to rebuild the walls of his resolve.

For Michael, this isn’t about blowing off steam. It’s more of an intimate fact that no-one in the family is or ever will be privy to. Not even Amanda.

Never Amanda.

So you’re entrusted with the understanding that when words fail him, when all he’s left with is the knowledge of how to take…

You’re his profane virtue, the hellfire to his gasoline—slashing-and-burning time and time again if only to keep these demons at bay.

Bearing his weight down on you, Michael slides one hand into your hair, gripping the strands tight while the other lifts your shirt, exposing your already-peaked breasts to the chill of the room. The frosty air stings your bare skin, but Michael closes his mouth over the pebbled flesh, claiming you with his teeth and tongue.

And as you surge forwards, the thrill of his ministrations fuelling your molten centre, you trace your kisses around his tattoos; the delicate arrow on his collarbone, the swirls on his outstretched wrist. His skin tastes of gunpowder, pine and sweat, a testament to his previous whereabouts, and the resolute, internal force Michael tries so desperately hard to conceal.

I see you, your eyes blaze. I see you.

When he kisses you again, fire wreathing in every breath, he yanks your dampened underwear to the side, fabric ripping somewhere, anywhere.

“Who do you belong to?” he snarls, plunging two fingers deep inside you, wetting his lips as your pussy stretches around him.

You squeak your answer as he thumbs your clit, slipping over it with absolute ease. “You, Mikey.”

His other hand drifts to your waist, gripping hard enough to bruise. “Tha’s fuckin’ right.”

You keen into his touch, eyes squeezing shut as he curls into that spot, bringing you to the edge almost instantly.

“Tha’s fuckin’ right,” he hisses, pausing to spit onto your gleaming cunt.

Release barrels through your body as you clench around him, your breathing turning ragged with the tide of your orgasm. He withdraws his hand, springing back onto his knees to take his clothes off.

Clarity blankets his face for a second as he remembers the cum coating his knuckles, and so he acts. Lifting his soaked fingers to the seam of your lips, Michael’s voice turns vehemently low. “Suck.”

You oblige him, reveling in the taste of yourself and his domineering command, watching as he pulls away to remove his sweater.

He catches your stare, lip curling in amusement. “You too, pet.”

Nodding furiously, you slide your panties off, frowning at the sizeable rip near the seam. Michael says nothing as you throw them to the side, palming his straining cock through his boxers instead. Your tongue presses against your cheek as he nears, brooding hunger radiating from every inch of his body.

He kicks his boxers away, cementing your position on the couch by straddling your chest, eyebrows furrowing into a piercing glare. Bracketing his knees on either side of you, he pins your arms above your head, his beading precum salty on your awaiting tongue.

“Gonna take it?” he whispers, every word clipped.

“Yes,” you breathe, angling his cock into your mouth, moaning around him as his length reaches the back of your throat.

He grits his jaw, pushing downwards so he can look at his picture of sin: your lips, wrapping around his cock with every deep, rolling stroke, the honeyed anguish of your fingernails digging into the tops of his thighs, and your ardent expression as he fucks your face, as deep as he can go.

At the sensation of his torment ebbing away, with gratification remaining as the only kindling for his sparking nerves, Michael curls a hand in your hair, fisting the strands at the nape of your neck. Hot tears spill down your cheeks as his pace quickens, Michael’s hushed grunts of ‘take this cock like you mean it’ almost pushing you over the edge.

He skirts the precipice, but that’s as far as he’ll go. For now.

He flashes you a furtive smile as he climbs off you, only to assume a position between your legs. He licks his palm before dragging it across your folds, pausing for a moment to spit where his hand meets your pussy.

The moan in your throat falters as he pumps himself, moving slightly to tap the head of his cock against your clit. You inhale sharply as he nudges himself into you, but he withdraws before you can even think to claw at him, to beg him for even an inch.

It’s the sweetest kind of agony, knowing that you’re moments away from being satiated, yet you’re hopelessly trapped underneath him; the mercy being his and his alone.

He coats himself in your slick, flexing his hips to rub his length against your folds. You glance upwards, at the wild look of determination spilling across his face.

It turns out that that’s all he needs for the inferno to come to life.

Michael slides home in one smooth stroke, wasting no time in hauling one of your legs onto his shoulder, pounding into you as deep as he can manage. With every snap of his hips against yours, his restrained groans blend into the crook of your neck—a fevered combination of your pulse, caught between his teeth, and a fervoured haze that he can’t help but lose himself to.

You match his pace, thrust for thrust, biting down on whatever part of him your mouth skims over first. You’re close—so goddamn close that your pussy becomes a vice, the dam about to break with the force of a tidal wave.

“No,” he rasps, shaking his head forcefully. “Not until I say you can.”

You lurch forwards, a plan unfolding in your head to simply do it and face the consequences, but that tiny, almost insignificant, obedient fragment of you moves to get your leg off his shoulder, resolving instead to curse him a thousand ways in your mind.

Your vision fringes in white as he drives himself forward, grunting his approval at your subservience. He cages you in, almost entranced at his effortless ability to angle his thrusts to hit all the right places, to arm you with a satisfaction no toy could ever hope to achieve.

A corner of his mouth quirks upwards as you start to whimper, close to tears because he feels too fucking good not to let go. He draws back to squeeze his hand around your throat before sealing your lips with his own.

“Soon,” he whispers, pulling away to lift your hips up.

Nothing is delicate about the way he fucks you; not with his hands spreading you apart, or the mixture of your sweat and arousal dripping down his body.

Michael knows, just from the way you’re panting his name, that you’ll take him with you when you explode.

His eyes flutter closed as he leans over you, bracing his forearm around your waist and grasping the arm of the couch for balance. A kind of delirium washes over him as he moves quicker, not intending to stop until he gets what he wants.

On any ordinary occasion, his answer would be your pleasure, but not tonight.

Tonight belongs to him.

He looks to you, tersely repeating the command he’s been yearning to give. “M’gonna fill ‘ya up.”

And he clamps his hand over your mouth as your knees dig into his sides, his fingernails marking you all the same with the force of your tandem orgasms. He bows his head as he spills into you, his entire body taut with the kind of hedonism derived from being your equal, the mirror image of your resplendent apostasy.

You don’t keep track of how long you stay like that, or the time it takes for you to muster the energy to roll away.

What you do notice is that for once, Michael lays there with no hints towards his previous stressors, no recollection to the very thing that had plagued him to begin with.

You find that your voice is steadier than it was before. “Better, Michael?”

“Better,” he affirms, reaching for your hand to intertwine it in his own.

tags {x} for some of my mikey girlies (yes, even if you haven't seen the show) @bellaxgiornata @peterman-spideyparker @marvelswh0re @mindidjarin @murdock-and-the-sea @reborn-rekall

#michael kinsella #michael kinsella x reader #michael kinsella smut #michael kinsella fanfic #kin amc #x reader #rhi writes 💻

132 notes · View notes

captainsophiestark · 3 months

Text

Harry Potter Masterlist

Main Masterlist

X - x reader F - Female Reader (otherwise it’s gender neutral) ☀️ - Fluff ✨ - Humor ☁️ - Angst 💙 - Platonic ⭐️ - Author Faves

Theseus Scamander

Down by Contact X ☀️

Rivalry X ☀️

Unacceptable F!X ☁️☀️

Top of the Class F!X ☁️☀️

Hard Hitting Questions F!X ☀️

Pay No Attention to the Magizoologist X ☀️⭐️

Remus Lupin

Home with You F!X ☁️☀️

Werewolf X ☁️☀️⭐️

Regulus Black

Distraction X ☀️✨

Bill Weasley

Grand Plan F!X ☀️✨

Slow Dancing In A Burning Room F!X ☁️☀️

Charlie Weasley

Creative Writing Class X ☀️

Oliver Wood

Thunderbolts and Lightning X ☁️☀️

Percy Weasley

Clouds X ☀️

Ekel Tricity X ☀️

The One and Only Exception X ☀️

Draco Malfoy

Crocs X ☀️✨

Potions and Emotions X ☁️☀️

Ginny Weasley

Wicked Smart X ☀️

Gryffindor Stereotype X ☁️☀️

Marauders Era

No Students out of Bed ☀️✨⭐️

Golden Trio Era

What If? ☀️⭐️

Epilogue Era

Grief ☁️

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mangoshorthand · 9 months

Text

Thing of the Past- [Five Hargreeves x F Reader]. Ch7 (Hard Feelings Part 4)

SUMMARY: You can't avoid it any longer: Five has to meet your parents. It goes more wrong than you could possibly imagine, spiralling to bring up secrets he'd rather stay buried.

⚠️TRIGGER WARNINGS⚠️ Chapter One - Chapter Two - Chapter Three - Chapter Four - Chapter Five - Chapter Six - Chapter Seven - Chapter Eight - Chapter Nine- Chapter Ten - Chapter Eleven/Epilogue

Can the French countryside and good wine offer Five some respite?

Chapter contains some era appropriate deadnaming of Viktor.

⚠️Please heed content warning⚠️

Chapter 7: Therapy

You had checked in utilizing your very broken French. While Five is a polygot, French is, surprisingly, not in his repertoire beyond the basics. The check-in clerk had taken pity on you and switched to English as soon as the conversation became too advanced for your paltry (though valiantly applied) vocabulary.

Five wears a cleanly styled linen suit over a t-shirt yet is already too hot. You fare slightly better in a kaftan sundress. Back in New York, after Lila brought him back, him putting on this outfit had been the thing to convince you that he really was coming. You hadn't needed his apologies: you'd forgiven him even as you stared into the empty shower.

Now, you’re sitting together on the honeymoon suite’s terrace, looking out on the kitchen-garden nearest to you and fields of lavender, vine and olive-tree stretching off into the hills. The air is balmy and the herbal smell of the surrounding country seems to drift and play on the breeze, carrying sweet lark song along with it.

Turning his face to the sun and stretching out like a cat, he fans himself with a new panama hat.

“I gotta say, if I’m going to have a breakdown, I really couldn’t choose a better place.”

You squeeze his hand and pour him another glass of champagne.

“Well, here we are. We take things at your pace.”

He pulls his sunglasses down.

“How’s this for a plan,” he says, crossing his legs and reclining further in the sun lounger, “First, we go to the spa. Maybe go for a schvitz, then cool off in the Kneipp basins, then we get you a facial or a massage and I’ll have a jet shower, (think I’ll leave anything that involves being touched by a stranger for a few days), then we have dinner, maybe order some wine, then some more wine. And then I’ll get fucked up beyond all recognition, take you to bed and see if I can't throw a quick fuck into you without crying.”

He's trying to style it out with self-deprecation, downing the whole glass of champagne in one.

“You had me until the last part,” you smile. This is a little worrying. His hand feels fragile under yours, old somehow.

“That was just a rough sketch. We’ll iron out the kinks as we go.”

“No massage or facial for me today. Maybe we’ll get a couples one later if you feel up to it. But everything we do, we do together. If you’re getting fucked up, I’m getting fucked up. If you fuck me and cry, I fuck you and we cry together. You get me?”

He grins shakily, lifting your hand to his lips and kissing it with the gratitude he can't speak.

The resort is beautiful, nestled between mountain ranges in the countryside of Southern France. The buildings are rustic and airy; exposed beams running between traditional cobble-stone walls. Inside the floors are wood or stone-tile; the inner walls are covered in simple, light plaster and occasional half-wainscoting. Thin curtains flank the windows within and wooden shutters without. Inside stays blessedly cool, while the sun almost cracks the flags on the terraces and beats down on the vines, sweetening the growing fruit.

As the afternoon wore on, Five had relaxed, even kissing you in the steam room once it was deserted. He’d scooted along the wooden ledge like a boy edging towards his crush, smiling sheepishly. Slowly, he moved his tilted face towards yours. You’d stayed still, letting him test his own boundaries. His eyes flicked from yours to your lips and back again, only closing his eyes when the sides of your noses touched. He’d stayed like that for a moment before, fraction-inch by fraction-inch, he closed the gap between your mouths.

His first touch was gentle: a tender but close-mouthed press to the corner of your lips. The second was the same but to your cupid’s bow. His breath had quivered across your lips and his hands gripped the bench beneath him as he opened his mouth slightly. When he had taken your lower lip between both of his, you could feel him tremble.

Eventually, haltingly, he’d deepened the kiss and you’d allowed your lips to match his tender siege. When you’d broken apart, (quickly, for fear of discovery), there had been a familiar glint in his eye that you were happy, if surprised, to see. He looked on the verge of suggesting you head back to your suite right away but something had shifted inside him and he’d looked away instead, smiling guiltily and rubbing his neck a little.

At dinner, you get through a bottle of wine between you before the appetizers even arrive. By the time they do, you’re both extremely giggly. Five's laughter verges on the unhinged at times but you're glad to see him acting this close to happy

“They are never going to accept American bookings ever again.”

He snickers, “Well we gotta keep up our international reputation as obnoxious assholes. GARCON?!” he raises his hand and voice to a passing waiter.

“FIVE!” you hiss, embarrassed but amused.

He orders you another bottle of the wine from the unamused waiter.

"Désolé monsieur, mon mari..." you search for the appropriate phrase and the waiter smiles.

"C'est bon, madame. He is having too much..." he eyes the empty wine bottle, "fun?"

"Oui," you grin and Five nods emphatically at this description.

By the time the main courses arrive, you’re on bottle three.

“Can I try your steak?”

“Nope.” he says, through a mouthful.

“What, asshole, not going to let your wife try a bit of your dinner?”

“Nope.”

“You tried mine!”

“You offered. I didn’t.”

“What happened to ‘what’s mine is yours’?”

“Don’t remember vowing that one.”

“Fine. Be like that.”

You reach across the table and stab your fork at his beef, successfully spearing a bit. His fork attacks yours, knocking the meat back onto his plate.

“I’ve killed with a fork and I can do it again!” he threatens, laughingly. A woman at the next table gives you a disapproving look.

“I think we should skip dessert." you say, laughing guiltily, "We’re embarrassing ourselves.”

That’s what you end up doing, taking the last third of the final bottle of wine up to your suite.

You flop down on one of the couches by the artistically distressed fireplace and light the huge candle in place of a fire. On the other side of the chimney breast is your pristine bed, spread with crisp white sheets.

Five pours you both another generous glass of wine.

“Salud, dearest.”

You clink and return the salutation. He drinks deeply. He’s had more than you and your head is already swimming.

“I could asp-bolutely go for a massage tomorrow,” he slurs.

“Eh. Don’t push yourself too hard.”

“I’m coming all the way here and not taking advantage of it all. My back’s tight as all shit.”

“Well…there’s no rush. We can stay as long as we want.”

He waves the hand holding his glass airily, sloshing the wine onto his pants.

“Ah shit.”

You cross to the bathroom unsteadily and return with a hand towel, kneeling beside him and dabbing at his thigh. As you feel the wine soak through the towel, you sense him trying to draw your eye. As you meet his gaze, he grabs your wrist, leans towards you and kisses you fiercely. When you respond, he tugs your wrist towards his crotch, encouraging you to palm the growing erection between his legs.

You turn away, moving your hand away from him by an inch or so. He kisses your neck feverishly.

“Five, are you sure this is a good idea?”

“Yes,” his voice is breathy, his nose nuzzles you a little too hard, a little too desperate, “Call it therapy.”

“Five."

His kisses are getting sloppy. He breathes you in, one hand still on yours, manipulating your hand again to knead his crotch. His other arm pulls you forward.

"No."

“Mmmphh?” he’s not paying attention, grinding his hips into your palm.

“I said No!”

First you push him and then he pulls himself away like he’s just received an electric shock. All the colour drains from his face and then floods back. The shame and fear flare in his eyes- he looks on the point of, blinking, running, hurting himself or who knows what, so you grab his upper arms.

“No. No. Don’t worry. It’s fine. You’re drunk. We’re both drunk. I don’t think this is right for you. That’s why I said no. Not because you were doing anything bad. Ok?”

His eyes dart around the floor. He doesn’t seem to be listening.

“Tell me you get it?” you say, shaking him, “You just didn’t hear me. Don’t fall into blaming yourself. It’s not your fault.”

You pull him down so he lies against your stomach, his wet pants sticking to his legs. He resists at first but then accedes, letting you hold him as you continue to whisper:

“Not your fault. It's Ok. Not your fault.”

You rock him gently, stroking his hair. After a few minutes of silence on his end, you think you’re finally getting through to him. Soon, he whispers:

“Can I…tell you about it?”

“Of course. I might not always know what to say, but I can listen.”

He doesn’t say anything for a long few minutes. You don’t prompt him. It’s like you can feel the whirring in the head beneath your fingers. Finally, he speaks.

“I liked it.”

“Ok.” You keep your voice neutral. He needs to lead this.

“After the first time, whenever she’d touch me, I’d get hard. Like my dick was Pavlov’s fucking dogs.”

He falls into silence as you flounder, out of your depth.

“That must have been-"

“-I feel like a fraud using the word ‘rape’ about it. Because…No, I didn’t like it, but I undressed myself and then I’d let her...and every time, I’d get hard and I’d come and it felt good.”

You stroke his head, massaging your fingers into his scalp. You hope your touch is enough to reassure him of your acceptance and empathy.

“My whole life I’ve been at the mercy of whatever my body wants. Eating cockroaches when the hunger got so bad it hurt, coming whenever The Handler told me I could, craving sugar and jerking off 24/7 when I was going through puberty- both times.

“Like your body keeps betraying you?”

“Exactly.”

“But that’s what bodies do, right?”

“Huh?”

You fucked up already trying to just listen and you’re too smashed to convey ideas eloquently.

“Never mind. I just mean, bodies are ph-physio-logical, right?" You're not sure the six-syllable word came out okay but he hangs on your words nevertheless.

"Bodies just react to stuff. Your dick got hard because that’s what dicks do. You got hungry because your body was trying to keep you alive. You wanted candy during puberty because all the hormones and jerking off and whatnot uses a lot of energy or...whatever.”

He turns his head, watching the candle flame flicker.

“I guess. I just hate being out of control of it.”

“But aren’t we all out of control of it?”

He doesn’t answer, lost in a memory.

“One time she was touching me," he brings his hands up to face in demonstration, one of his fingers parting his lips. “I told her I didn’t want to. But then she grabbed me through my pants. And she...felt how hard I was.”

He puts on a higher, silkier voice that sends a chill up your spine:

"Part of you wants it Number Five. It's not a big part, but a part nevertheless."

He’s clearly experiencing it again- flashing back in that really-real way that only someone who suffers as he does can. You ease his fingers away from his face, interlacing yours with his. You squeeze his fingers a little harder than would be comfortable; acting as a counter weight to keep his consciousness anchored in the present. It takes him a few moments to throw off the vision.

He takes a deep, deep breath, “I let her do it. And it felt good...and bad."

And then he laughs suddenly. His face twists into its most derisive lines. Directed at you, it would be enraging; directed at himself, it's heart-breaking:

"Ever wonder how I found out that I hate any more than one finger up my ass," the laughter intensifies, slightly hysterical, "who knew it could bleed for days, right?"

"Oh Five."

You blink away tears and he scoffs: clearly he doesn't believe he deserves your pity.

"I could have blinked away at any point, but I didn't. I was too..."

Halfway through the thought, the hot anger fades.

"And even now, sometimes when I think about it...I get hard.”

He whispers this last part, flushing deep with shame.

You wince in sympathy. You can’t let him explore this idea any more without comment lest he fall further into the well of self-blame. You try to keep the slight slur out of your voice.

"Would you say the same to me?”

“Huh?”

“So, say I’m holding a gun and a guy touches me: I say no but then he puts a hand down my panties and feels that I’m wet. If he fucks me without consent, would you say I let him do that if I didn’t shoot him? Even if I came from what he did to me?”

He rolls to look up at you. He seems to be really considering this.

“Killing someone is different from injuring them or blinking away.”

“Okay, fine. What about...Aoife."

"Don't."

Your voice trembles as you push back your own instinctive repulsion at invoking your baby's name in this context. Five holds out a hand in an instinctive warding-off gesture, eyes closed against the thought.

"She can blink. Or will when she's older-"

"Don't!"

"-in your position, would she be letting it happen if she didn’t blink away?”

“No!" he says, horrified, "of course not!”

“Then what makes you different? Because you're man?"

"No." he says, though by his tone you know it factored unconsciously into his thinking. He opens his eyes and takes a second before settling on another way to blame himself.

“I kept going back.”

“Ok. Why was that?”

“She was my boss. The Handler- that’s what it means. She handled the Temporal Assassins.” He laughs darkly, “I guess with me she took her title more literally.”

“Because she had power over you?”

“Yeah. I guess. I couldn’t not go back. Without the Commission it was back to cockroaches and freezing winters.”

You give him a small shrug and jerk of the head, face saying: Well, what could you do about it, then?

And, in his answering look, he takes the point.

You both take a few moments to collect yourselves. You think you've got through. You continue to stroke his hair, swirling dark locks between your fingers.

“Do you think it was just you?” you ask, finally.

His brow contracts in thought.

“I... guess so...I never thought about that.”

“I wouldn’t be surprised if there were others. People who leverage positions of power in that way tend to make a habit of it."

He hems, so you push him ever so slightly.

“How does that idea make you feel?”

“I don’t know…” and then, with a return to his usual irony, “are you trying to therapize me?”

“Yes. $140 please,”

He laughs softly and you lean over to kiss his head.

“I think there’s more to say…but maybe that’s enough for tonight.”

You stroke his forelock out of his eyes.

“Bed?”

“Yeah.”

As you snuggle under the sweet-smelling sheets, you pretend not to notice his erection when you put your arm around his waist. You feel it even though he shifts away quickly.

It takes a long time for you to fall asleep but, once you do, he cries softly; biting down on his clenched fist to contain the sobs. He's glad his shaking breath and body doesn't wake you.

For this time of year in Dallas, it had turned out a fine day. November sunlight reflected off the bottles behind the bar, flashing occasionally as the bartender walked from one end to the other.

The Guinness was rich, fortifying. His chin rested on his closed fist and the briefcase sat at his feet, pressed tightly against the bar with his shins. Waiting was ninety percent of his role. Soon, it would be time for him to take his position, time to assemble the gun, time for the bewitching quiet before the storm.

He was nearly there; he could sense it. Decades of planning were nearly coming to fruition. He was missing…something…but he knew he was close; a single flash of inspiration and he’d know. He'd be able to do what his entire life has been leading up to: avert the apocalypse, save his family and go home.

He took out Vanya’s book and flicked to his latest lines of proof for the existence of a bound for the number of limit cycles. It seemed…okay…but the faint needling in the back of his mind wouldn’t fade.

He jumped as something was placed down in front of him with a thunk. The bartender stood on the other side, one hand still on the cannister. Five met his grim eye contact and gave a confirmatory nod; his master’s voice.

Resting his book face down and open on the bar, he unscrewed the tube and pulled out the scroll within:

All the hairs stood up on the back of his neck. She knew? How deep in his head was she? Shit, he couldn’t even think now without her knowing about it? He felt panic rise as he screwed the memo into a ball and thrust it into his pocket. The barman eyed him with a raised eyebrow. Did he know? Did all the Commission know? About his plans? …. Maybe even about what he kept letting her do to him?

He mentally shook himself. There was no use in thinking of it, not right then. Maybe not ever. To calm himself, he picked up his book again and read between his own scrawled equations, trying to relax. To focus.

‘Though prone to arrogance and outbursts, even more than the average preteen, Five was my sole confidante in the years before he disappeared. It almost seemed fitting that of all the siblings to leave us, it would him, who I fully trusted and who fully trusted me. Five wasn’t always one to comfort me but he was the least susceptible to Dad’s manipulations. He felt he could be more open with me as I didn’t have abilities like my other siblings, I was non-threatening.'

Sweet, quiet little Vanya. She was his sole confidante too. Who knew she was a simmering ball of rage, just like the rest of them?

…He hadn’t found her in the wreckage, in the brick dust that got into his lungs and developed into the hacking cough that still plagued him. Alone. So alone but for Dolores.

Wasted landscape, the smell of rotting corpses. Falling ash. Fires burning and burning and burning and burning and-

When he wakes up with one of his regular nightmares, he’s clammy with sweat. It’s one of the bad ones after which he takes a short time to remember where he is.

“We’re in France, Five. You’re safe.”

His breathing traps in his throat; barking there. He wipes his forearm over his face, scrubbing at ash he’s convinced is there.

“Family!”

“They’re safe. You saved them, remember?"

“Vanya!" he calls, fevered and unhearing, “Luther?”

“Viktor, Five. He’s fine. They’re all fine; you did it. Klaus just got some of his art into a gallery. Viktor’s still first chair. Remember we went to his concert last month? He played Mozart's violin concertos? Luther and Sloane are happy and-”

"Viktor..." the name begins to contextualize it for him- it brings him closer to the present, “...Aoife?”

“She’s safe. Can you remember who she's with?”

You hold his head to your chest and kiss his hairline.

“She’s…she’s…” his wide eyes dart wildly, as if searching the recesses of his mind for the recollection, “she’s with…Diego. Diego and Lila…and Santi.”

“That's it: she's back at home.”

You hold him as his breathing, though still hard, begins to sound less constricted.

“I miss her.” he manages.

“Me too sweetie.”

You help him slow and deepen his breathing with the counting exercise you always use. When he's breathing better, you sing him Dusty Springfield again. It helps.

Tag list: (please comment to be added or removed.) @dilfjohhny , @sunsunhe, @w4stedtr4sh, @nevbrooke-555, @theredvelvetbitch, @td-miley01, @five-hxrgreeves, @rorygi1more, @jamiebower88

Masterpost

Alternatively, join me on A03. Here is a link to the whole series

If you enjoyed, chuck me a comment or reblog. Likes are nice but they're not quite the same as interaction. xx

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smellingofpoetry · 2 years

Text

Of secrets and sacrifices

Characters: Reader, Dean Winchester

Pairing: Dean Winchester x Reader

Summary: "Dean remembered how calm it made him feel watching over her during his restless nights. Now, though, it was so painful. Everything he could see when he looked at her was blood."

Square/s Filled: Quote F: "Don't look me like that." "Like what?" "Like you still love me." (TMAS Bingo - @supernatural-jackles)

Warnings: angst, so much angst, some fluff too, implied smut

Words count: 2611

A/N: Hi there! It has been quite some time since the last time I posted a new story. This last month has been crazy, and I don't have much time anymore. I just hope to be able to write and post more often. Now, that being said, I've written this story for the challenges of two lovely people: @libre1rose8 and @roonyxx. For @libre1rose8 the prompts were: "Dean's green Hanley", "I have a secret to tell you" and "into the woods". For @roonyxx I had: "I have always been alone". You'll find the prompt in bold. Girls, I'm so terribly sorry for the delay, I just hope you're gonna like what I came up with. Before I leave you to the story, I wanted to thank the sweet @snowlovespie. Thank you so much for the love, support, and help with this one-shot, I appreciated it more than I can say.🖤 Let me know what you guys think. ;)

Dean Winchester Masterlist - Masterlist

It has been months since the last time they shared a room. Since then, many things had changed, while others had seemed to remain the same.

She still slept with his green Hanley.

He still spent his night looking at her.

Dean remembered how calm it made him feel watching over her during his restless nights. Now, though, it was so painful. Everything he could see when he looked at her was blood.

Blood was on his hands while he was cutting through the soft skin of her abdomen. Her screams still resonated in his ears.

He could already feel the panic starting to creep on him at that memory.

No, wait.

That wasn't…

… that didn't happen.

Did it?

Then why could he still feel her warm blood between his damn fingers?

Dean sat up fast, feeling the air getting shorter with each breath. The cold under his feet was the only thing able to, somehow, ground him, while his hand wouldn't stop trembling. Those images, still stuck in the back of his head, were ready to torture him.

He scratched at his stubbled cheek, dragging his fingers to his eyes and rubbing them. He shouldn't have taken this hunt. He knew something was up the moment Sam had told him about the hunt, insisting for Dean to go help some random hunter asking for backup. He should have known it was about her. To be honest, though, it wasn't Sam's fault, not entirely. Dean was to blame too because he should have left as soon as his suspicions were confirmed. At the end of the day, though, he was a weak mean.

So, here he was in the middle of the night, in a cabin in the woods. So far away from home, trying to deal with something that he thought had been already dealt with.

Dean had never been so wrong in his whole life.

He realized it as soon as he saw her in the empty parking lot, leaning against her green olive car months after Michael. She was more beautiful than he remembered, and the mere sight of her was enough to overwhelm him with a new wave of pain.

He sighed, glancing at the woman sleeping in the bed next to him. Y/N – the woman he had loved once.

No.

Wrong.

The woman he still loved.

The same woman Michael was threatening him with. The one Dean had tortured to death over and over again. And it didn't matter if that was only a simple mind game to keep him in line. It had felt real to him.

She was the one he had to push away, and, damn, if that hadn't hurt.

"Another nightmare?"

Dean froze at the sound of her voice. He could hear her shuffling between the sheets but kept his back to her.

"Something like that."

He cleared his throat, glancing over his shoulder, trying to follow her every move. Dean watched as she adjusted against the headboard, patting the free space next to her. He turned a bit more in her direction while deciding if moving closer as she asked him to was a good idea. Dean shifted his gaze from her to the space between them a couple of times. He knew it was a bad idea when he felt his body move of its accord, taking the seat next to her. Dean leaned against the headboard, arms crossed over his chest. He left as much space between them as possible, too worried about what would happen if he got too close to her. Instead, Y/N had to bite her lip to hold back a smile as she remembered herself to keep her hopes low.

"Wanna talk about it?"

"No, not really."

Y/N nodded, not that surprised by his response. She sank more into the pillow behind her back, crossing her ankles. Her hands tucked under her legs to warm them up. She let the silent washed over them. She stole a glance in his direction from time to time until she found the courage to speak again.

"I've been missing this… you."

She could feel the warmth surging from her neck to her cheeks as soon as her words were out. Dean swallowed hard - eyes squeezed shut, and head turned - trying to keep his emotion in check. She dared to glance his way when it was clear that no response would come from him. Her heart quickened its pace.

"I hope you've missed me sometimes too."

Dean got up from the bed at that, a painful smile on his lips, rubbing at his forehead with the tips of his fingers. He kept his back to her, trying to come up with something to say. It seemed like his brain wasn't cooperating because, of course, he had missed her. He had missed her more than he should have. He had missed her more than it was possible.

He missed her like air, and he didn't give a crap if it was too cheesy.

"I didn't, and you shouldn't have either."

And, of course, he had to go and say the worst possible thing because going back now wasn't an option. Little did it matter if his heart was cracking, words afterwords. One more scar and he wouldn't have survived all that pain. He could feel it in his bones, and turning to face her, sitting in the middle of the bed, with her eyes on him, didn't help. It just made things worse.

"Don't look me like that."

"Like what?"

"Like you still love me."

"But I do. Nothing can change that."

Dean licked his lips, biting them right back. Head down, he rested his hands on his hips, already regretting what he was about to say.

"Me cheating on you should have had."

He was being a dick. Dean was well aware of that, but that was the only defense he had left to protect her. Y/N nodded her head, looking down at her hands. She trailed the movements of her fingers playing with the hem of her – his – green shirt. All it took was a glimpse at her sad smile for the guilt to come back in full force. She faced him again a few moments later, and Dean braced himself for what was coming next. He knew very well he deserved whatever she was throwing at him.

"I have a secret to tell you."

He frowned in confusion because it wasn't quite what he had expected. He didn't even know what it was. So, he kept silent for once, giving her a chance to say something more, to make him understand.

"I know you didn't cheat on me."

Her voice was a whisper, and Dean could have sworn he'd heard her wrong if it wasn't for the look in her eyes. He was ready to deny it when a simple gesture of her hand stopped him.

"I knew you were lying, and I let you."

He didn't know if it was that small revelation or her watering eyes, but the fight inside him started to fade away. He walked towards the bed, seating on the edge; his mind going a mile a minute trying to elaborate on what Y/N had told him.

She knew all along.

Dean had thought it was a smart move. He thought that lying and hurting her that way would be enough to make sure she would leave the bunker – him – behind. It was the only way to protect her from Michael – from himself.

"Why?"

"To give you a better chance at fighting Michael."

Dean turned around, searching for Y/N's eyes, founding her closer than he thought. One more movement and he could have touched her and, damn, if he wanted to.

"You had a nightmare the first night you were back. You were saying things… you were begging someone to stop, and then you said my name. Since then, you pulled away from me. So, I started to have more and more suspicion even though I didn't say anything about it."

Dean never looked away from her, not once. Not even to blink.

"He was keeping you in line by threatening me, wasn't it?"

He didn't even need to nod for her to know it was the truth. She had known since that night but had kept quiet because too scared, even more than she would have liked to admit. She had been holding on until she couldn't take it anymore.

"That night, the night you said those things to me... I figured it all out, and I thought with me out of the picture, you'd have a better chance of beating him. Giving you an advantage by letting him think you hurt me so bad that I was going to leave and never come back, then…"

She could feel her cheeks getting wetter and wetter while she got rid of the tears with the back of her hand.

"And I was kinda right until I wasn't anymore, and you decided to go suicidal with that damn Ma'lak box."

"How do you know about that?"

"I was there every step of the way, even if you couldn't see me. Do you think I could ever give up on you?"

Y/N tilted her head to one side, trying to study him up as best she could. Dean blinked a few times at her question.

Did he think she could give up on him?

Dean wouldn't blame her if she did it. He knew that being with him came at a cost, and he would have never asked her to pay the price, not for him. He wasn't worth the trouble; at least that was what he thought.

"Sam kept me updated among hunts. I've helped your mom with a couple of hunts. I was at her house when you got there."

Dean narrowed his eyes, remembering what happened when sleeping on his mother's couch. An amused smile appeared on his face.

"So, it was your shirt, the one I found."

Y/N nibbled at her lower lip, a small smile confirming his suspicions. She got closer to him. Their hands almost touched until she felt one of his fingers brushing her warm skin.

"You told my mom to call Sam."

"No, it was me. I called Sam."

"What? No, Sam said…"

"…that your mom was worried, which was true, but I was the one who called him. I did it the moment I found the box."

"You were still there?"

"I wanted to be sure everything was okay before leaving."

"All right, you got me!"

As much as he tried, Dean couldn't keep the pride out of his voice. His girl got him back just right. He should have been mad because his plan backfired. Yet, he couldn't deny that he was so damn impressed and quite turned on if he had to be honest. Y/N lowered her eyes, feeling redness rise on her already warm cheeks under Dean's gaze.

"I'm blaming Michael for that. In no other circumstance, I would've been able to pull it off."

Dean raised his hand, capturing a stray lock of her hair between his fingers. He turned the strand around his index a few times before bringing it behind her ear. Y/N lifted her gaze, meeting his green eyes halfway. The smile on his face caught her off guard. So, she took a few more seconds studying him until she couldn't take it anymore.

"Say something, please."

"You're becoming one hell of a hunter."

She felt his hands on her middle, guiding her to sit on his lap. She had to fight hard to stop the grin that was trying to slip past her lips. Once he had her in his arms, he took his time to look at her. Dean traced every line of her features, realizing at that very moment how much he had missed her.

"All this time, I thought I was protecting you while you were the one protecting me."

"Are you mad?"

"I wish you wouldn't have put yourself in danger because of me? Hell yes, but no, I'm not angry."

Y/N could feel her heart quickening its pace in her chest as a shy little smile showed up on her rose lips. She let her hands wander along his arms, stopping as they reached his shoulders. She touched the collar of his shirt with her fingertips, playing with the soft fabric. Dean stared at her mesmerized, shivering at the feeling of her nails scratching his skin.

"I'm sorry."

"For what?"

"Everything? I shouldn't have…"

Dean turned away, shaking his head. He felt disappointed with himself for not being able to find the right words to apologize to her. Y/N cupped his face in her slender hands, caressing his stubbled cheeks with her thumbs.

"I'm sorry for hurting you, Y/N."

She let go of his face, wrapping her arms around his neck, leaning her forehead against his, a small smile on her lips.

"Michael was the one trying to hurt me – us – not you."

"But I've let him."

"That's not possible, and you know why?"

Dean shook his head, tightening the hold around her center, pulling her even closer. She let her finger trail through his hair, massaging his scalp.

"Because of that look in your eyes whenever you're willing to sacrifice yourself for someone you love. I still remember the first time I saw it; I was so jealous at how damn lucky Sam was to have you as his keeper. I'm not proud to admit it, but seeing that kind of love…"

Y/N swallowed hard, struggling to hold back the tears that were threatening to roll down from her already red and puffy eyes.

"The night you said those things to me, you had that same look in your eyes, I saw it, and it was from me then, only me. You were looking at me that way, and it just broke my heart because I knew what that meant, and I couldn't let that happen. I have always been alone, you know, so knowing I was going to be once again shouldn't have scared me that much, but it did. It did because Michael had been trying to take away that one person who has ever cared about me, and I couldn't let him."

She closed her eyes, feeling the tears warming her cheeks. Dean cupped her cheeks with his hands, wiping her tear-stained skin with his thumb. Y/N leaned into his palm. Her eyes fluttered open when his lips found their way to her forehead. They traveled down her temple, leaving a trail of soft kisses.

"You wouldn't have believed me no matter what I'd said, did you?"

Y/N shook her head, a teary smile on her face. She leaned forward, searching for his mouth. She brushed her lips against his warm ones, as Dean stood still, watching her every move.

One glance later, she was kissing him, and it was like being alive again.

It was like every single fiber of his being was on fire. He had experimented with that kind of feeling before. This one, though, was something quite different and sweeter. He was willing to be consumed by her kisses, and that's what he did.

In that shared bed, with trembling fingers and short breaths, they found their way back together. And it wasn't until they were lying in the rumpled sheets that she dared ask him.

"Dean?"

"Uhm?"

"Is it okay for me to come back home now?"

Dean smiled, pulling her closer to his chest before kissing the crown of her head.

"You never really left."

Forevers Tags:

@440mxs-wife @cosicas-cuquis @foxyjwls007 @morganaah

Supernatural Tags:

@flamencodiva @hobby27 @keep-beating-my-dear-heart @leigh70 @littlewhiterose @pastelpeaxch @snowlovespie @stixnstripesworld

Dean/Jensen Tags:

@akshi8278 @awkward-and-indecisive @deandreamernp @lyarr24 @siospins2 @stitchintimefan @universallyraylangivens @waynes-multiverse @woodworthti666 @sexyvixen7

#libre1rose8goes300 #roonyxxs2Kcelebration #dean winchester #dean winchester x reader #dean winchester fanfiction #dean winchester fic #michael!dean #supernatural #supernatural fic #supernatural fanfiction #spn #spn fic #spn fan fiction #spn fanfiction #secrets #sacrifices

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avatarofseshat · 1 year

Text

Finding You [Part 1]

Jack Russell x f!reader

Words: 602

A/N: This is planned as a multi-part fic. The only warning is a mention of blood.

——

You had just finished your graveyard shift and you were taking your usual route home when your headlights suddenly shine upon a figure hunched over in the middle of the road. You slowed your vehicle before bringing it to a stop. As a rule you didn’t stop for strangers you’ve watched way to much true crime and you knew what could happen. However, you knew what the current temperature was outside and out of good conscience you couldn’t leave someone to freeze.

“Hello! Do you need help?” You call out and get not response as you cautiously exit your care and walk slowly towards them.

As you approach you noticed the short tussled peppered black hair of a man and he didn’t seem to notice you until you kneeled down beside him. You wait patiently as he raises his gaze to find yours. You weren’t prepared for the moment his olive green eyes found yours, it was as if the universe itself was drawing you together, You could tell by the way his eyes hadn’t left yours that he must have had the same reaction.

“Your hurt,” you say upon noticing the blood on his bare torso “I can take you to the hospital.”

“No, no, I can’t go to the hospital.” His response is frantic as he attempts to rise to his feet but he cringes as he attempts to straighten his posture. He spoke again after gathering himself with a deep breath “I don’t live to far from here.”

You thought for a moment attempting to clear your still clouded mind “I can help you…and take you home.”

“Why?”

“I can’t leave you out here…bleeding,” you emphasis and he doesn’t resist as you steer him towards your car and open the passenger door for him.

“Weren’t you taught not to pickup strangers,” he quips as you climb behind the wheel “how do you know I’m not going to hurt you.”

You scanned over his handsome features and lean frame “you would have done it already.”

You made sure the heater was turned up before reaching into the backseat to fetch a blanked and the first aid kit you kept in the backseat - both thanks to the paranoia of your parents. You did your best to unfurl the blanket before helping him place it around his nearly bare form.

“What’s your name? I’m Y/N,” you say attempting to break the silence as you fetched supplies from the kit.

“Jack,” he responded with a sigh as you cleaned the blood from around the wounds.

“Not as bad as I thought,” you declared once you had cleaned them as well as you could and applied clean bandages to each one “they look deep though…are you sure-“

“I heal fast,” he cut in “I’ll be fine…thank you.”

“Of course,” you respond “let’s get you home.” You were oblivious to the pair of red eyes that observed you from the side of the road.

Jack’s home turned out to be a rather nice two story house on the edge of woods. Somehow you had successfully gotten out of coming in for coffee just to be swindled into returning that evening for a “thank you” dinner. Although you were pretty sure that wasn’t Jack’s sole reason for wanting you over since it seemed a bit much just to say thank you. To be fair though he was ridiculously handsome, some would say pretty, and seemed very kind if not a bit awkward so you weren’t completely dreading it. It also met that you were now in procession of each others numbers.

#marvel #mcu #werewolf by night #jack russell #jack russell x reader #werewolf by night fan fiction #werewolf by night fanfiction

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petboymart · 1 year

Text

lost in the woods (NSFW)

f!reader x snow leopard sakusa + yak ushijima (2x1)

employee notice : i don’t know much about yaks and literally wrote this in my notes app bc i don’t have any wifi, so i couldn’t do any research,, so i based what i know off literally zootopia and assumptions (if i got anything wrong lmk, i’d like to know more abt yaks) also my head rlly hurts rn

this product contains : dubcon (kinda) 2 possessive wild boys, female reader, mention of female genitalia, tiny mention of readers fam, oral (reader receiving), titty sucking!!, fingering

you should really start listening to your father more often, you realize, as you look around and realize that you are not back at the campsite.

“remember to take the map with you, and go with someone when you leave the campsite!” he had warned, and of course you in your prideful glory brushed him off, you could handle going to the bathroom by yourself.

stupid. dumb dumb dummy you thought, internally beating yourself up.

right now you looked around, all the trees looked the same, and your flashlight wasn’t industrial size, and didn’t help with sight. cheap thing it was. it honestly felt like a cliche horror movie. your phone was dead and even if it did work you were in the middle of nowhere with no service. all you had was a bag with toilet paper, pads and tampons, water, a flashlight, a first aid kit and toothbrushes and toothpaste. you suddenly felt scared. you were lost, in the woods of the highlands in the middle of nowhere.

there was the sound of something snapping in the woods around you. you jumped. another snap of a stick on the other side of the woods. you wheeled around, flashing your weak flashlight as if it could protect you.

you heard a growl and whimpered.

“oh god please don’t hurt me.” you squeaked. the bushes rustled, and something took a step out. you screamed, throwing your flashlight.

“ah- ow!” a deep voice exclaimed.

“oh god oh my god please don’t kill me please! i’ll- i’ll hurt you i’ll choke you with a tampon!” you yowled, switching from begging sadness to fiery threats.

“of course you scared her.” a deeper voice called from behind her and you whirled around, falling on your ass as you squealed. the flashlight that had fallen on the ground shined brightly on the two figures, revealing two men.

the first man, who was rubbing his head as he was the one you threw the flashlight at was.. beautiful. he had nice curly black hair and dark eyes. he had two moles above his brow, and his face was set with a deep pout. he also had a pair of fluffy white ears atop his head and a thick spotted tail swishing behind him.

the second man was big, burly with large muscular arms and a broad chest. he had short brown hair that was tinted with what seemed to be the color of moss, and there were a few small flowers in his hair. his eyes were olive green and his face was straight and square. he was so geometric. he had dark floppy ears on his head as well as large horns that had vines and other herbs hanging from them, seemingly tangled in them. they both glared at each other, and then looked down at you. the one with the black hair sighed, the hand that was rubbing his head moved to reach out to you.

“i’m sorry for scaring you, i didn’t mean to. i just saw you were panicked and i wanted to help. i’m sakusa.” he said, his white ears pinned to his head as his face flushed pink.

you took his hand, standing up, still silent in shock. the other man huffed, dragging his foot against the ground.

“i’m ushijima. i also came to help. you’re lost.” he said, the last part wasn’t really a question, it was a statement. that’s when you found your voice again.

“yeah.. i um.. i don’t know where my campsite is.” you murmured, avoiding eye contact with both of them. you could feel their heavy eyes on you, and you held back from squirming.

sakusa stared at you with dilated pupils, you smelled nice. fresh. clean. his nose twitched. he wanted to rub his face against your neck and your face and your entire body. his instincts insisted he take you to his home and lay you in his nest of furs and feathers and keep you there until you smell like him entirely. you could scratch his ears and rub his belly. he could keep your safe and warm with his own body heat. he clenched his fists to tether himself to reality, to control his urges.

ushijima thought you looked like a doe, lost in the woods all alone. you fiddled with your hands, biting your lip nervously. ushijima wanted to bite your lip himself. he wanted to pick you up and carry you away, keep you warm nestled in his arms, the thick hair on his chest perfect for you to nuzzle in. you seemed like you would fit perfectly against him. he could carry you on his shoulders to pick the fruits in the trees, lay you on his back when he was in his animal form and nap with you as you helped take leaves out of his thick coat. he blinked himself out of his dreams as you stared at them both wide eyed.

they glanced at each other, seeming to have a little staring contest before both nodding, begrudgingly.

“we’ll take care of you, sweet one. we’ll keep you safe for the night.” sakusa said in a honey sweet tone, as you carefully nodded. him and ushijima both took one of your hands, and ushijima took your bag. you didn’t know what to say really as they led you to a cave, watching you with sweet eyes.

“there’s no furs or blankets, we’ll keep you warm.” said ushijima as they watched you sit down on the cave floor.

they sat on either side of you, their warm bodies emanating heat. you were still sort of dazed from the whole situation as you laid down. sakusa hugged you from your left, as ushijima did the same from your right. the yak’s large hand squeezed your hip, making your stomach tingle. the snow leopard nuzzled against your neck, purring. the vibrations from his bare chest made your heart thump.

two kind strangers have helped you when you’re lost in the woods and are even keeping you warm. yet all you can do is think with your cunt?! you internally berated yourself. two kind strangers. two insanely attractive large hot strangers. both of whom were pressed against you like there was no room when you were all in fact in a very large cave.

you squeezed your legs together, using all your willpower to try and calm your nether regions, as sakusa’s clawed hand rubbed circles on your stomach, only covered by a thin tank top. you were hot, you were sweaty. you weren’t wearing a bra. you shuffled around in your laid down position, your shorts riding up to reveal more of your thigh and just the slightest glimpse of your ass. black panties. you didn’t notice but the two wild boys.. no, wild men, did. ushijima breathed in sharply, steeling himself. sakusa parted his mouth just slightly, the scent of your hidden treasure making his eyes roll back in his head. the two looked at eachother. they wanted you so bad. they could tell you wanted them too.

slowly, slowly, sakusa used his hand to bring your face to his. ushijima’s hand that was on your hip moved lower, tracing shapes on your shorts. you shivered. the straight faced yak smirked just slightly. you looked at sakusa innocently, plump lips just mocking him with the way they parted to huff out a short breath.

his self control was in shreds. sakusa kissed you, making your lidded eyes fly open in shock as you jumped. you didn’t know what to do, barely comprehending as you kissed back.

sakusa’s catlike tongue poked around your mouth. tasting and rubbing against your tongue, the strange texture of his tongue giving a brand new sensation to you. ushijima wanted your attention too though, as his big hands went up your shirt, his rough palms cupping your breasts. you squealed into sakusa’s mouth as he moved his lips from yours. your lips were puffy and spit slicked and it made sakusa purr. ushijima squeezed your breast’s and you moaned.

“we want you. do you want us?” ushijima said, levelheadedly as if his hands weren’t kneading your tits.

“mm-mhhhm yes oh-!” you said, squeaking. when you said yes, ushijima tugged on your nipple, making you squeak.

sakusa purred. he dragged your shorts off, as you lifted your hips so he could wiggle them off, throwing them somewhere in the cave. ushijima rid you of your shirt. all that was covering you were your panties, and soon those were gone as well. you were laid bare beneath them as they took your body in with glazed eyes.

your breath came short and fast as they observed you, then slowly moved. ushijima kissed your lips, once again cupping your breasts and playing with your now erect nipples.

sakusa lowered himself until he was at the same level as your drooling cunt. he gave a tentative lick and your leg twitched, and he proceeded to bury his nose and mouth into your folds. you squealed into ushijimas open mouth, as the yak swallowed all your moans hungrily. his mouth moved from your lips to your tits as he took your right nipple into his mouth, tugging and rolling the other one between his pointer and thumb. his warm mouth around your nipple made you squirm, as you tangled your hand into his hair and tugged. he groaned. ushijima sucked harshly on your nipple then lazily dragged his tongue over it.

sakusa was deep in your pussy, lost in the taste and scent. he swallowed your juices greedily, pushing his tongue in and out of your throbbing cunt. his nose rubbed against your clit, making you close your legs around his head. that made him feel even better as the feel of your thighs enclosing him, making him stay down there, felt heavenly. his sandpaper tongue twisted and slurped your cunt, before he brought a finger into your pussy too, then another. he pumped in and out of your pussy rhythmically, as he continued to suck and kiss and practically make out with your pussy.

both of them stimulated your most sensitive areas, and soon heat built up in your stomach as you clenched your fists. your moans grew louder as you approached your high.

“‘m gonna cum, ‘m gonna cum-“ you chanted, eyes rolled back. that made ushijima and sakusa work harder, sucking and licking and doing whatever they could to bring your orgasm closer. they succeeded.

“cumming! cumming cumming cumming-“ you repeated as the knot in your stomach snapped and a wave of pleasure crashed into you. you let out a silent scream as your body went rigid, yet you began to twitch as ushijima and sakusa didn’t stop.

“i just cummed- i can’t-“ you started but when you lifted your head you were met with two animalistic stares.

they were not done. this was going to be a long night. you squealed as the overstimulation crossed with a second orgasm. in the dim light of the cave, you could see something thick bulging out of both of their pants.

well, at least you weren’t still lost in the woods.

#petboy mart !!#nox !!#haikyuu petboys !!#snow leopard boy sakusa !!#yak boy ushijima !!#customer service !!#anonymous customer !!#wrote this in the car and i am hanging by a thread #my head pounds but it’s okay bc they pound u harder #god i’m so FUNNY #oh my god i forgot to respond to the ask i’m such an idiot bye sorry

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fiveraccoonsinatrenchcoat · 2 years

Text

Romeo And Juliet (Or Some Other Romantic Shit Like That) Ch. 8

Eddie Munson x f!reader

Series Description: The Saturday night slot at The Hideout is open, and Corroded Coffin thought they were a shoo-in. When it goes to a different band, however, Eddie becomes more than a little distracted by their pretty bassist.

Previous Chapter - Next Chapter

Chapter Description: Eddie extends a few olive branches in a few different directions.

Warnings: language, smoking mention, kermit the frog

Word Count: 3668

Notes: I think I got the layout of Eddie's room kinda wrong but I mostly don't care

It sort of felt like the air in the small living space had about half as much oxygen as it was supposed to. Gareth’s eyes were darting between you and Eddie, Eddie’s eyes were darting between you and Gareth, and your eyes were staring wide at Gareth as if he was the grim reaper coming to collect you.

Shit.

Shit!

The frying pan Eddie was holding, made slippery by a layer of dish soap, fell out of his hands and landed the sink with a crash, slicing through the suffocating silence. You released a startled yelp and jumped about half a foot out of your chair at the sound, throwing a hand across your mouth.

“Sorry, sorry!” Eddie was quick in his attempt to placate you. He turned his head toward his wide eyed bandmate, who was giving him a look that could only have been read as ‘what the absolute fuck is going on’ and nodded towards the door. The pair of them walked out and sat on the wooden steps that led up to the door of the trailer.

Gareth and Eddie had shared many difficult conversations on these steps; at eleven years old, Gareth was the first person Eddie told when he had found out that his mother was a lot sicker than they thought she was. Gareth came out to Eddie at thirteen in this very spot. These days it was usually late at night and paired with a cigarette or two, but it was an unspoken rule that Eddie’s stoop was always neutral ground. They could say their piece and know the other wouldn’t judge them for it.

“That’s a. . . new development,” Gareth stated. Eddie could tell he was embarrassed for walking in on the two of them.

“Yeah,” Eddie said. He had his forearms resting on his knees and his face pointed at the yellowed grass. “It actually isn’t all that new.”

“What do you mean?” Gareth questioned. Eddie let out a sigh in response. He knew he’d have to tell his friends about this at some point, but he’d really hoped he’d have some control over the conversation when it inevitably occurred. “How long have you guys been, y’know, whatever that was?”

“Almost two months,” Eddie admitted.

“Wh-dude!” Gareth blurted out. “Two months?!”

“I know! I’m sorry, I know I should’ve told you from the start, it’s just-”

“We’ve never kept secrets from each other, Eddie,” Gareth interrupted him. Eddie could hear the hurt coating his voice. “You always tell me everything. Usually in too much detail.”

Eddie huffed out a small laugh at that. It was true; he and Gareth left no stone unturned when it came to recounting their nights during their post-party, Sunday morning debriefs, and Gareth knew more about Eddie and all of his embarrassing hookups than either party would care to admit.

“I’m sorry,” Eddie said after a moment’s silence. “She wanted to keep it under wraps for as long as we could, but it kind of spiraled out of control last night, and-”

Eddie could feel the pinpricks of tears start once again. Great. That anchor of guilt settled itself in him again, weighing him down into his spot on the splintering wood, and he could practically feel Gareth’s eyes go wide once again at the cracks in his voice. Gareth had seen him cry plenty of times, Eddie would be the first to admit it, but this time they seemed to come entirely out of nowhere. Neither of them were prepared for it.

“Eddie,” Gareth broke through the silence first. “What happened?”

Eddie recounted the last few months with you, and the events of last night (leaving out certain details, of course). He told Gareth that you and Tonya had gotten into a bitter fight, because of him. He told Gareth how you’d sequestered yourself all alone in the greenroom, because of him. He told Gareth how upset you’d gotten, because of him.

He told Gareth that you had gotten kicked out of your band.

Because of him.

“First of all,” Gareth began. “None of this is your fault, okay?”

“How?” Eddie asked. There was a sticky layer of self pity in his voice, he knew it, but he didn’t care. “She got kicked out because Tonya saw her with me, how is that not-”

“She got kicked out because Tonya’s a possessive narcissist with wildly out of control anger issues,” Gareth said. “How they could stand being around her for this long, I don’t know, but this isn’t about you. Not really.”

“It’s not?” Eddie inquired with a disbelieving, almost sarcastic lilt in his voice.

“From what you said, it sounds like Tonya was just waiting for her moment to strike. She was gonna try to get her out any way she could,” Gareth said. “She just saw you as an opportunity and decided to take it.”

Logically that all made sense. Eddie knew your fight with Tonya had been long sitting anger finally boiling over, but saying it out loud didn’t really make him feel like he was any less at fault. He scrubbed at his eyes, willing them to just dry back up, and really wished he’d grabbed a pack of smokes on his way out.

“Look, it sounds like something like this was bound to happen between them at some point,” Gareth attested. “Maybe it’s a good thing it’s happening now, and not in two years after it’s had time to brew into something worse.”

“It still feels like it was my fault,” Eddie muttered with a shrug. He stood up and turned towards the door.

“Hey,” Gareth said, pulling Eddie’s attention away from the door. “I understand why you kept this a secret, but I promise we wouldn’t have said anything.”

“I know, I just,” Eddie responded before trailing off. In all honesty, he really didn’t have much justification for keeping this from his bandmates. He trusted them with everything. “I was just scared.”

“Of what?” Gareth was standing now, too.

“Losing her, I think.”

“God,” Gareth said with a smile. “You’ve gone soft on me, haven’t you?”

“What? No! I have not gone soft!” Eddie tried to defend himself. He had a smile just as wide.

“Oh, dude, you totally have,” Gareth doubled down. “You’re literally blushing at the thought of her.”

“I am not!” He absolutely was, and trying to deny it was only making his face grow hotter. Gareth clapped a hand on his shoulder.

“She’s turning you into a fuckin’ teddy bear,” Gareth laughed.

“She has not!”

The pair walked back into the trailer, and while the awkward tension had most definitely thinned, there was still a very strange vibe in the air as Gareth gave you a small wave.

“Hey,” he said to you. “I’m, uh, I’m Gareth.”

“Hi,” you said back, returning his wave and introducing yourself.

“Sorry about, y’know, your band,” Gareth said.

“Sorry about turning your lead singer into a teddy bear.” You’d clearly been eavesdropping.

“Oh, my god!” Eddie exclaimed. He threw his hands up in defense. “I am not a teddy bear! I have not gone soft!”

“You sure about that?” you asked him with a giggle.

“Who’s side are you on, here?!”

With that, things felt almost like they were back to normal. You and Gareth seemed to get along, much to the relief of Eddie, and you were laughing and smiling again. Gareth left soon after that, making Eddie promise to call him on his way out, and silence fell once again. It was almost noon when the kitchen had been cleaned up, and you and Eddie planted yourselves on the couch.

Now that the distracting prospect of a new friend had worn off, though, your thoughts were suddenly very occupied by the fact that your life was still seemingly going to shit.

“You alright?” Eddie asked from beside you. You stayed quiet for a moment and pulled your legs underneath yourself before breaking the silence.

“I don’t have any clothes,” you said, very matter-of-factly.

“What?” Eddie asked, confused.

“All I have are these pajamas and what I wore on stage last night,” you clarified. “I have no clothes.”

“Well, you’ve got lots of clothes back at your apartment,” Eddie told you. You let out a melodramatic groan at that, dropping your head into your arms against the side of the couch. “Baby, you can’t just hide from Jessa for the rest of your life, and as much as I would love having you around all the time, I have a sinking feeling my uncle would be less than thrilled about you staying here forever. He barely has enough space as it is.”

“I know,” you whined, voice muffled by your arms against the edge of the sofa. You lifted your head just enough for you to be able to make eye contact with Eddie. “But she’s gonna walk on eggshells around me and talk to me like I’m some little kid and I really don’t want to deal with that. It makes me feel tiny and weak, and the last thing I need right now is to feel more tiny and weak than I already do.”

“That may be true, but my statement still stands,” Eddia responded, crossing his arms. “She’s your best friend. I know for a fact that she’s only looking out for you.”

You stayed put on the couch with your arms wrapped around your head. You were beginning to freeze up again, too wrapped up in your own thoughts to be able to get anywhere. Eddie was about to pick you up and move you himself before you spoke up again.

“I just need a second to figure out what the hell I’m gonna say to her,” you requested. “I need to. . . figure out what’s happening in my own head before I can deal with what’s going on in her’s.”

“Well that second can probably only last like, two days, maximum,” Eddie said. “Then Wayne’ll start getting all bitchy about it, and I really need him to like you.”

“You think he won’t like me?” you asked, panicked.

“No, no! I mean, yes! Fuck,” Eddie backtracked. “I do think that he’ll like you. He’s just a hardass and he worries about me too much and I don’t want him to think you’re, like, a bad influence on me, or something.”

“Aw, you think I’m a bad influence on you?” you asked him with an amused grin. That made him smile.

“No! I just-” he cut himself off. “Stop backing me into corners!”

You laughed at how flustered you could get him, and Eddie started to really like the idea of hearing the sound for the rest of his life.

“Look, bad influence or not,” you said. “I’d really prefer not to meet him in my middle-school Muppet pj’s.”

“I think he’d love them, actually,” Eddie prodded you.

“Wayne’s a Muppet guy, huh?” you inquired with a smile.

“Oh, yeah,” Eddie answered. “I had a very Muppet heavy childhood.”

“That makes sense, I think,” you said.

“I feel like I should be taking that as an insult.”

“It’s not one, I promise,” you assured him. “I mean, I’m literally covered in tiny Kermits right now.”

“Good point,” Eddie said as he got up from the couch. “Alright, I’m gonna go shower and then we can figure out how we’re gonna do this, okay?”

You nodded to him in response, and Eddie disappeared into his room. Once you heard the bathroom door shut and the water start to run, you decided to take a break from your sulking in favor of snooping through Eddie’s room.

You had never actually seen Eddie’s place before last night, and now, looking at his room with a much clearer head, it definitely lived up to what you had pictured.

Of course, his beloved guitar was displayed front and center. There were a million different posters, and a big handmade Corroded Coffin flag was pinned up among them. You wondered if he’d been the one to come up with the design of the jagged red and black lettering.

You continued to poke around the room, though you quickly became distracted by the sight of his record collection. You began flipping through albums and, while most of what you saw seemed to be pretty in line with the sorts of things you thought you would find, there was one near the very end of the pile that caught your eye.

You heard Eddie come back into his room just as you pulled the album out to examine it. Sure enough, your eyes did not deceive you.

“What are you doing?” Eddie asked you with a grin.

“I thought you said you didn’t like The Slits?” you questioned. You turned around and held up a copy of 1979’s Cut. It was one of your favorites.

“I don’t, really. It’s a little too experimental for my tastes,” Eddie said as he dug through his dresser with his back turned to you. He whipped his head around to face you with a grin. “But, come on, have you seen that cover? That alone was enough to blow my fourteen year old mind. How could I not get it?”

You hummed in agreement. You were pretty sure that seeing Viv Alberteen on that cover, coated in mud and ready to fight anyone in her way, changed your life forever.

“Y’know,” Eddie started up again. “I actually went back and listened to it again not that long ago after you mentioned them.”

“Oh, yeah?” you asked him. Eddie could see the excitement in your eyes. “What’d you think this time?”

“Still not quite my thing. I can appreciate it more now, though,” Eddie responded.

“Do you have a favorite?” you asked with a giddiness comparable to a child on Christmas morning. “Off the album?”

“What’s the one about them stealing shit?”

“Shoplifting?” you asked him.

“Yeah, that one,” he said. “That one’s fun.”

“I can see that one being your favorite,” you agreed with a smile.

“It really makes you feel like you're being chased down the street by a cop,” Eddie described. “Not that I would know what that’s actually like, or anything.”

“Oh no, of course not,” you said, playing into his sarcasm. “God, I wish I could scream like she can.”

“Me, too,” Eddie said. He pulled a t-shirt over his head. “What about you? What’s your favorite?”

“Ping Pong Affair,” you answered quickly. “It’s not trying to be sappy or self pitying like other breakup songs. They don’t sugarcoat any of it.”

Eddie finished getting dressed. You put the record on, though you purposefully kept the volume turned down low, and sat yourself on the edge of Eddie’s bed.

The two of you decided that you were going to give Eddie a list of things you needed for the next couple of days, and he would go over to your apartment and retrieve them. You needed your meds and some clothes, yes, but this was also going to act as an espionage mission of sorts. You were sending Eddie behind enemy lines to see where Jessa’s head was at so you could plan out your next move.

Eddie did not like this plan one bit. He didn’t like that you weren’t going to come with him (on that, you wouldn’t budge), or the fact that he felt a bit like he was walking right into the mouth of the dragon. He knew that Harriette and Jessa, while not nearly as vitriolic as Tonya, were at the very least suspicious of him, and he knew that having to tell Jessa that you were purposefully avoiding her was a possible death sentence.

All you had to do was shoot some very potent puppy dog eyes his way and he agreed. He didn’t like it, but he agreed.

Your apartment building, though it wasn’t all that old, seemed a little bit like it was crumbling at the seams. It was in a neighborhood that even Eddie tended to avoid at night, and was pushed out into the very outskirts of Hawkins. It backed right up against a railyard, so train horns blared through all hours of the night, and there was a consistent low grumble that sounded deep through the building as the locomotives went by. You’d told Eddie that you didn’t mind the noise because it kept the rent low.

Eddie paused outside your apartment door. The fact that he was able to just waltz into the building concerned him, but that was a problem for another time. He took a breath before knocking.

It took a moment for Jessa to open the door, and she looked worse for the ware when she did. Her black curls were frizzy in the haphazard bun they were tied up in, and it looked like she’d had been crying just as much as you had. She opened the door with a look of concern, which quickly transformed into confusion when she saw that it was Eddie on the other side.

“Oh,” she said, surprised. “Hi.”

“Hey,” Eddie greeted back. He felt incredibly out of place, despite having been there several times before. Jessa quickly looked down the hallway, though he was the only one standing there.

“Is she with you?” she inquired.

“No, she’s still back at mine.”

“Okay,” Jessa was clearly less than thrilled by Eddie’s answer.

“Look, I know this is weird, but-” Eddie was interrupted.

“Don’t take this the wrong way,” Jessa said with a bite in her voice. “But, why are you here?”

“She wants to stay with me for a couple days,” Eddie explained.

“What?”

“She, uh,” Eddie was hating every second of this. “I think she’s just really fucking embarrassed about everything, y’know? I mean, I don’t blame her, I would be, too, and I am, because this is kind of all my fault, and-”

“Alright, Romeo, could you just get to the point please?” Jessa asked exasperatedly.

“She just wants you to know that she’s okay, that’s all,” Eddie said. “She’s just trying to think all of this through.”

Jessa looked at Eddie hard. It felt like being a lab specimen under a microscope.

“You still haven’t actually answered my question,” Jessa snapped. “This conversation could have been a phone call. What are you doing here?”

“She wanted me to grab a few things for her,” Eddie explained further. He was determined not to give in to Jessa’s animosity. “Clothes, toothbrush, y’know.”

“Oh,” Jessa said. Her aggressive stance deflated a little bit. “Right, sorry. Come on in.”

Jessa moved to the side and Eddie gave her a curt nod as he passed.

Eddie really loved your apartment, but it felt odd to be there without you. It was far from welcoming now, and the usually comforting atmosphere of incense smoke and cinnamon just gave him a headache. Puffin eyed him from the corner and gave a harsh ‘mrwrow!’ at the sight of Eddie. He made sure to work quickly in gathering up everything you’d requested; Jessa was watching his every move like a hawk and he really wanted to get the hell out of there.

Thankfully, everything was easily found, and Eddie was able to make it through the list in just a few minutes. He did one last sweep of your room to see if there was anything he had missed, and made the executive decision to add one more thing that you hadn’t specifically asked for right on the top of the small duffle bag he’d brought.

“Hey,” Jessa said to him just as he was going to leave. She had her arms crossed in front of her and a look on her face that made Eddie feel like he was about to be sent to detention. “Tonya’s out. For good.”

“Really?” Eddie asked.

“Mhm,” Jessa confirmed. “Harriette and I already told her, and she lost her complete and utter shit, but she’s out.”

“I’ll let her know,” Eddie said with a small smile. He turned his back once more, but-

“We want her on vocals,” Jessa added. “Lead, not just backing. If she wants to come back.”

Eddie thanked Jessa and left.

When Eddie got back to his trailer, he found you sitting on his bed flipping through a pile of old drawings.

“Oh, god,” Eddie sighed. “Where did you even find those? I thought I hid them away forever.”

“They’re good!” you insisted.

“They absolutely are not,” he chided back as he tossed the bag onto the bed next to you. You abandoned the papers, careful to keep them from falling to the floor, and opened the bag. You couldn’t wait to get out of these goddamn pajamas.

Eddie heard a small gasp as you opened the bag.

“You brought Mr. Moo?”

The last thing that Eddie had grabbed was a small, stuffed, brown-spotted cow that you kept proudly displayed on your bed. Eddie knew you cared for it; you always made sure to carefully place him on your desk before the pair of you threw yourselves into the sheets. You would even make sure to turn him so he faced the wall, as to maintain his bovine modesty.

“His name is Mr. Moo?” Eddie asked with a laugh.

“Don’t make fun of him!” you said and covered his little felt ears, the tiny horns peeking out from under your hands. Eddie’s heart melted at the sight.

“I’m not making fun of him!” Eddie defended. “That’s fuckin’ adorable, actually.”

You held Mr. Moo tightly as you got up from the bed. You practically threw yourself at Eddie and wrapped your arms tightly around him. Eddie could feel the cow tucked against his shoulder and, in that moment, decided he was going to do everything in his power to keep you wrapped around him for the rest of his life.

“Does your apartment door have a deadbolt?” he asked against your hair. You turned your eyes up to his.

“Yeah, why?”

“I’m buying you another one.”

Tiny Little Taglist: @wickedslashdivine @youareadistraction @bubbles-is-my-thing @music-is-my-only-reality @heavenkiss @aedicn @grungegrrrl @moviefreak1205

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crims0nwritess · 1 year

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Introduction

Helloooo, this is my first tumblr post so I apologize for how bad it is😭

Anyways I write fanfics! Here are the fandoms I will write for:

Marvel

Stranger things

The owl house

Wednesday

Enola Holmes

Harry Potter

Avatar the last airbender/ Avatar legend of korra

Heartstopper

Limits/Requirements

What I will write:

Fluff

Gay stories (M/M & M/GN)

Character x reader

Headcanons

One-shots

Requests

Platonic stories with female characters

Poly Relationships

LIGHT smut/suggestive situations (!only for characters that are not underage!)

Imagines

Coming out imagines (trans/queer/ace/poly friendly!)

What I will NOT write:

Angst (im bad at it😭)

Straight stories (M/F)

Romantic stories with female characters

Long/Multi chapter stories

Character x character (unless its a poly ship with the reader)

Extreme age-gap

Pro-ships

Extreme smut

About me!

My name is Crimson!

Im gay

My pronouns are he/they

Very amateur writer

I prioritize requests!!!

I won't be constantly writing cuz ya know life but I will make sure that I see and respond to requests

I have an ao3 account with the same name but I havent posted anything yet😭

Characters

Will be accepting requests for these characters

Marvel

Peter Parker (My #1)

Andrew!Peter Parker

Tobey!Peter Parker

Marc Spector

Steven Grant

Sam Wilson

Bucky Barnes

Eddie Brock

Matt Murdock

Clint Barton

Scott Lang

Stephen Strange (Platonic only)

Pietro Maximoff

Tony Stark (Platonic only)

Thor

Namor

Vision

Wade Wilson

Steve Rogers

Bruce Banner

Shang-Chi

Scott Summers

Leo Fitz

Kang the Conqueror/Nathaniel Richards (New!)

Stranger things

Dustin Henderson (my #1)

Mike Wheeler

Will Byers

Lucas Sinclair

Jonathan Byers

Steve Harrington

Argyle

Jim Hopper

Enzo/Dmitri

The Owl House

Hunter

Thats basically it but I will do a lot of platonic imagines with all the other characters

Wednesday

Tyler

Ajax (my #1)

Pugsley

Eugene

Enola Holmes

Sherlock Holmes

Tewksbury

A lot of platonic imagines for the rest of the characters as well

Harry Potter

Ron Weasley (my #1)

Neville Longbottom

Fred Weasley

George Weasley

Oliver Wood

Cedric Diggory

Remus Lupin

Sirius Black

Avatar TLA/LOK

Aang

Sokka

Zuko

Mako

Bolin

+bunch of platonic stuff

Heartstopper

Nick

Charlie

Thats basically it

Extra

Please send requests! :) Im really bad at coming up with ideas lol

I probably forgot a bunch of stuff on here but yeah

Thats it! Byeee

#fanfic #stranger things #marvel #male reader #wednesday #the owl house #fluff #my writing #harry potter #enola holmes #request #avatar the legend of korra #avatar the last airbender #heartstopper

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joelsreligion · 9 months

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Don't Tell (part 3)┊ dbf!Joel x Reader

(a/n) I started this story without much of a plot in mind but I think I figured one out that I'd like to write out so !!! excited for tht. My tiktok is also nothing but Pedro and other dilfs and there was a comment on a Peña edit that said 'omg the way he turns' AND I FELT THAT IN THE DEEPEST CORE OF MY HEART because the GRIP this man has on me is nuts. But yeah, maybe expect someee more plot in the next part :) I need to figure it out

(Summary) (10k) Joel tells you he wants to take some time to think about what happened and you're upset :( Your dad, Sarah, you n Joel finally go to the lake house and arrive there on a CRISP Friday afternoon and everyones exhaustedd. You and Joel go out for groceries cause you're bored and there's no food.

(Warnings) exhibitionism, f masturbation and fingering, kind of oral f receiving, m teasing, dirty talk, spit :D (dirty Joel Miller drives me crazy idk), m fingering f, mention of pills/painkillers, and anything else I forget to mention

The early summer sun flooded your room at 7 in the morning on an early Friday. The shine of the rays woke you up early following your light 5 hour sleep. After what happened with Joel, you felt light on your feet and your body was too fired up to rest.

Might as well get up; Should start packing.

You got out of bed and headed for the bathroom. You completed your hygiene rituals and then grabbed everything you needed to put in a little plastic pouch. You walked back out into the bedroom and headed for your closet. You grabbed some shirts and shorts and walked over to your bed to put everything down. You made your way over to your dresser and opened the middle drawer. You stared at your pile of bras and underwear and felt a heat rise up your neck. You weren’t sure what would happen (if anything would happen) at the lake house with Joel, but you wanted to look good. You wanted to look good for him and wear something that would make him feel crazy. Maybe it wasn’t the safest thing to spend time with him in that way when you could easily get caught, but you also knew you couldn’t help yourself. It didn’t take much to convince you to give in.

Yeah no, looks like I’m trying too hard. You folded over a lace thong.

No.. not those. You pushed aside some worn out, olive green, boy shorts.

Ok, this is fine. You held onto a pair of navy cloth in your fingers. The sides that wrapped around your hips were thinner than the rest of the piece and they had white stitching all around it. It wasn’t too much and it wasn’t too tacky. It was just good enough that it didn’t seem like you picked it out intentionally or anything, but very clearly you did. You rummaged around for a couple more pairs and closed your drawer only to open the one below that. You looked through your attempted efforts to fold your bikinis and chose a top and bottom piece that matched. You couldn’t help yourself but to pick things out with him in mind; What he’d like best, what his favorite colors were, did he like you better in jeans or shorts. It was barely a week since you saw him for the first time but you were completely infatuated with him. Everything you knew about him and the things you had yet to learn made your heart fuzzy and you couldn’t help but smile.

Your mind went over to the way his lips felt on your stomach. His musky, wood and leather scent that followed him. The softness of his voice. How he looked at you when you told him to keep going.

The blush itched at your neck and you squeezed your eyes shut trying to dismiss the memories.

I don’t have time. Not right now.

You needed to get your things together and pack for your dad. You closed your drawer containing all your swimwear and spent the next 15 minutes grabbing any other small things you might need. Your hairbrush, lotion, shampoo, charger, things like that. You packed everything in your old duffel bag and made your way to your dads room with your bag in hand.

Packing for him was a lot easier. He was very simple. A couple plain tees, a pair of jeans, some shorts, and you didn’t contemplate what you grabbed, you just grabbed it. It was quick. You folded everything into one of his used travel bags and walked downstairs with one in each hand. Just as you put them down by the door, you saw Joel’s truck pull into the driveway. You unlocked the door so they’d be able to come in and made your way to the kitchen so you could make something to eat. You pulled out some pre-cut fruit and started to work on the batter for your waffles when you heard a knock.

“It’s open” you yelled from behind the kitchen island.

The front door opened, letting the warm and fresh air fill the room. You looked up at the door and saw your dad smile at you.

“There she is. How’s my girl?” He stepped in slowly and put two fingers up to his temple and rubbed. He cautiously made his way to a chair across the island from you and sat down. You chuckled lightly.

“A lot better than you, looks like it”

“Ha ha. Oou, no..” he squinted his eyes a little harder. His face scrunched together and he took in a breath to try and relieve some pain “..can’t do that right now. Head’s killin’ me.”

“Oh here,” you stopped making your breakfast and looked around for the bottle of painkillers Joel brought over last night “..I think we have some ibuprofen.. or, uh..”

Where the hell’s the damn bottle.

Your dad didn’t look up. His eyes were still squinted shut and one hand was supporting his chin while the other kept massaging his temple. You looked all around the counter and your face flushed with embarrassment. You got a little aimless and moved the hair out of your face to try and gain some composure. You went into a silent, erratic panic when you tried looking for the thing Joel gave you.

“..here. Found it. Aspirin.” You tried to level your breath. You followed the directions on the cap and twisted it off. You tapped the bottle into your hand until a single pill tumbled down and you put it on the counter in front of your dad. He opened his eyes and put the pill between the pads of his thumb and index finger.

“I’ll get you some water.” You turned around and made your way to the cupboard for a plastic cup. You walked towards the fridge and pushed the rim of the cup towards the sensor.

“Hey where’d you find these?”

Shit.

“What?” You called out from the fridge. You didn’t fully turn around, but you twisted your head a bit to make it seem like you really didn’t hear him. Your hand trembled a little and you moved your body to try and cover it up from your dad.

He doesn’t knowwww it was Joel’s. It’s fine. He wouldn’t ever think that. Just.. breathe and..breathe. Just breathe. Holy shit. It’s fine.

“I thought we didn’t have any more. Put it on the uh, the shoppin’ list but I forgot to-”

“To take the list with you?” You finished his sentence and pulled your cup away from the sensor. Your heart settled and the heat in your cheeks diminished into your surroundings. You turned around to walk over to him and place the cup down in front of him.

“Yeah..I, I forgot to take the list with me”

You gave him a soft smile and responded to his defeat.

“It’s fine. I found an extra bottle in the uh..” you swallowed “..the living room.” You tried to sound as unshaken as you could. You paid attention to everything. The pitch of your voice, your breathing, you made sure not to tap your fingers on the counter or swallow too much; all tells that you were lying.

Your dad gave you a little nod and put the pill on his tongue. He brought the cup to his lips and you watched him drink it down while you suddenly remembered you were cooking. You walked over to the stove and heard another knock on the already open door.

“Mornin’” Joel called from the doorway “.. can we come in?”

“Yeah, hey! Come in” You called from the kitchen. You gave him a sheepish smile and a look that lingered for a second too long. Thankfully your dad didn’t notice, his eyes were closed right after he took the pill. Joel returned the look and glanced at the counter where he was standing a couple hours ago. He looked at how it was now occupied by a bowl of mango and a bowl of batter.

So domestic. He thought

Sarah followed in behind her dad and walked over to where your dad was sitting. She greeted you and began a conversation while you cooked some extra waffles for your guests before heading out.

“Wait so, we’re all going in one car then?” You grabbed a piece of mango and raised it to your mouth as you asked the question.

“Not unless you want your dad to drive like that '' Sarah reveled from in front of you. Your dad groaned. He usually would’ve had a more engaging comeback but he didn’t have it in him now.

“Mmm. Yeah, fair. Ok just, here help yourselves..” You put a plate with waffles in front of your dad and Sarah “..and I’ll be back in a minute. Imma throw the bags into the truck”

You ignored Joels stare on you as you spoke. You headed for the door and picked up the two bags on the way out, you could feel his eyes on you. He took in slow steady breaths and kept an unfazed expression as he watched you walk away, then he turned back to Sarah.

“I’ll be back kid, ‘mma help her put the things in the car.” He gave her an unassuming smile and she barely heard what he said. She was too busy chewing on the food in front of her. Joel walked out of the house and down the driveway until he reached the trunk of his car where you were just about to throw in the first bag.

“Hey.” He said something first. You hadn’t noticed him as he walked up to you but you definitely noticed him now.

“Hey” you responded softly. You gave him a smile and noticed that he was wearing the same gray shirt he had worn the night before.

“You’re wearin’ clothes this time.” He looked at your jeans and gave you a small crooked grin when he tilted his head to the side.

You let out a breath with a smile.

“I was wearing clothes last time you saw me, too.”

“Barely.”

Your cheeks flushed lightly and you stopped moving to fully turn your body to face him. Your right hand came up to your face and you put the free piece of hair behind your ear. You looked at him and the way he was standing. He was leaning his shoulder on the truck and his hands were crossed over his chest. His right foot crossed over his left and his face was covered with delicate but prominent features.

“You’re complaining that I was wearing clothes?” Your smile made him grin “I would’ve thought my clothes were annoying you.”

You looked at him. Intimately. His eyes were dark and flirty. You knew Joel enjoyed playful banter but this was the first time you’d returned it on a different level. You felt you had a whole different area to play into and you knew he’d play into it just as well.

“I think you were annoyed you were wearin’ any..” his face was still “..I worked my way around it jus’ fine.” His smirk was devilish and you couldn’t ignore the pit in your stomach that was growing larger every second he looked at you.

“Just fine?” Your eyebrow raised as you spoke and your smile never left your face. He was pushing you. You liked it but you didn’t want to give in so you pushed back.

“Jus’ fine. ” He didn’t give in. His words were short and still but they were also the opposite. They were warm and sweet and they let you know everything you needed to know about what he was thinking. His subtle Texas accent made your heart flood with lust and you stared at him, taking in every bit that you could.

In a couple seconds his expression changed and he wasn’t leaning on the truck anymore. He also wasn’t smiling. His hands came down to his hips and he stared at the floor with a weighted look.

“Look, I- I liked what happened last night ok but..you need to give me some time to think about it.” He didn’t look at you but you looked at him. Even though his face was angled towards the floor, you saw how his eyebrows furrowed and the disillusioned look he held.

“Think about..what..? Where’s this coming from.” It wasn’t a question, you were demanding something. The tightness in the air completely changed and now you were the one with your hands crossed over your chest.

“Everythin’. It was very sudden n, it wasn’- I’m not sayin’ I didn’t enjoy it because I did, but I-”

“Yeah you said that, so what’s there to think about.” Your words were edged. You were impatient.

Joels head came up and his eyes met yours

He’s giving me that fucking look again.

It wasn’t a good look. He gave it to you last night. It was the look you hated and the one that made you feel like a helpless little girl when you very much weren’t.

Pity.

“Baby, you’re my-”

“Yeah your best friends daughter, your daughters best friend, you said that yesterday. What’s there to think about? Why can’t-”

Your voice was raising but you had no idea and Joel cut you off.

“You need to keep your voice down.” It was barely above a whisper; like somehow it would cancel out your volume.

“What?”

“You’re screamin’ n they-”

“I’m not screaming. You’re being dramatic.” Your words were rough.

“Right well the doors open n your dad n my daughter are in there so keep your voice down.”

The reminder that your dad and Sarah could easily overhear your conversation grounded you, quickly. You were a little hurt. You were confused.

He said he wanted it to happen again but he’s making up some excuse to stop it from happening? What the hell, Joel. Jesus christ.

You think you were quiet for a little too long and it gave Joel the opportunity to say something else.

“Look, nevermind alrigh’? Jus’ forget I said anythin’. If you can go in the house with a smile, that’d be great so they don’ think anythin’s wrong ok baby? We can-”

“Hey are we good to go?” Sarah called from the door. You looked up and felt a little startled. Joel also looked at Sarah. It took a split second for you to process everything but then you forced a smile on your face as quickly as you could.

“Yeah we’re done. We’re good.” You spoke as if nothing had happened.

“K. I’ll let your dad know.” Sarah spoke to you. She turned around from the door and made her way back into the kitchen.

Joels head turned back to your direction but you kept staring at the door trying to avoid his looks. You swallowed back the damage and pulled yourself together.

He’s not gonna see me upset. He’s not gonna do that to me.

You calmed yourself down the quickest you’ve ever done and turned back to look at Joel. You met his stare and gave him a simple smile that you hoped would mask every other emotion you were feeling.

“‘Go in the house with a smile?’ Really?” You looked at him with a trace of treason, like you couldn’t believe he had said that to you. Your words were low and emotionless. You wanted this to be over. “We’re done..right? The uhm- the conversations..done?”

Keep it together. It’s fine. Keep it together.

Joel saw right past your feeble attempt at pretending to be ok. His head tipped to the side, his eyebrows raised a little, and that look that you despised was back. His mouth was tight and he didn’t say a word.

K. There’s my answer.

“We should go..before it gets any later.” You walked past Joel, around the truck and made your way back inside with a smile that you hoped was a lot better than the one you gave Joel.

You helped them quickly clean up while Joel started the car and before you knew it, everyone was taking their designated spots in his truck. Your dad sat next to Joel in the passenger seat and reclined it as far as he was able to. Sarah sat behind your dad with her legs crossed on the seat and that left you to sit behind Joel, with an agonized attitude.

About an hour had passed and you hadn’t said much, you didn’t feel like saying much. Some country station was filling up the muted silence in the air and the smell of grass was infiltrating the truck from outside. The sun was hot and you stared out of the window while the wind wrestled with your hair. Joel was driving down a two way street and when you peeked out the front, you saw no end to the road. You leaned back into your seat and closed your eyes but the silence between everyone was irking you. You weren’t really bothered because it was quiet, you were bothered because Joel had hurt you and you wanted to externalize your anger. You looked at Sarah’s head bounce against the window while she slept and you saw your dads sweater draped over his face, trying to cover all the light. You couldn’t do anything but think.

Maybe I made it a big deal and it wasn’t that big of a deal. Maybe.. it is reasonable that he’d want to think about it? But it doesn’t make sense. Why would he tell me he enjoyed it, say those things to me, but then shut it down right after. And why- no, the flirting is what doesn’t make sense. He was flirting. And then he just brings up his doubts out of the blue? Makes no fucking sense. If anything, I’m the one who should tell him I need to think about it. Yeah. Mixed signals and shit. He should be the one stressing out right now, not me. I could accidentally say something or- ohymgod. Stop, holy- shit stop. Maybe this is why he wanted to think about it. Does he think I can’t handle it? Does he think I can’t think straight? No. Bullshit. I can think straight, he’s the one making this weird. I can handle this. Whatever, I don’t know. Maybe..maybe he’s just- god. I don’t even know. Think about what Joel, what's there to think about.

From the time you had that conversation with Joel in your driveway to now, your feelings have developed. You weren’t at the stage of hurt and embarrassment anymore, now you felt angry, annoyed, betrayed. Truly you didn’t understand why he wanted to think about it so much or what he was even thinking of. If he was weighing out pros and cons, you could do the same. If he was trying to figure out if you were worth the sneaking around, you could do the same. You had just as much to lose as he did but you didn’t feel like that was enough to keep you away from something that felt right. You enjoyed him. All of him. You’d began to view Joel differently. Not just physically, but character wise. You noticed how kind, compassionate, and considerate he was. You noticed how he washed his dishes when he was a guest in someone’s home. How he got politely upset when someone tried to pay a bill before he could. How he was more than willing to drive Sarah a couple hours to a different town just for a soccer game. He took care of the people he loved and he wanted to always make sure they felt cared for and respected.

Your heart began to soften. Your mind thought back to all the different memories you had of Joel. You gained a completely new perspective of them and started to slightly understand what he might mean by ‘I need to think about this.’ Yeah you had things to lose if shit went south, but he had more at stake. You and your dad were the only family that Joel had here. Tommy came and went but he never stuck around long enough and your dad was as much a brother to Joel than Tommy was. Not only that, but his daughter would lose her bestfriend. She wouldn’t have you to confide in. She also wouldn’t feel the same about her dad.

Shit. He’s risking a lot.

You began to feel selfish. You didn’t think this was as serious as you did now. Now you understood. You truly felt like a little girl now that you thought back to how you reacted.

I was so fucking selfish. Ohmygod. Jesus christ Joel, I'm sorry. My god, I'm so sorry.

You really did start to feel embarrassed. You usually were good at analyzing situations even when your own emotions came into play but maybe this time it was different. Maybe this time you honestly had no clue what you were doing and you needed to think things through very carefully, run through every option and come up with a plan.

You started to doze off to the sounds of the radio and the wind rushing by. The warm air stroked your hair and calmed your thoughts while the two way road bled into a little secluded town in the middle of nowhere. There was a gas station that Joel was headed towards. Everyone was asleep, you were dozing off. He pulled up to the side of the road to drive into the lot and he accidentally ran over the curb. Sarah’s head hit the window a little too hard and the swaying of the truck woke you and your dad up.

“Oh..sorry ‘bout that.” Joel said flatly from behind the wheel, but he didn’t look over at anyone, nor did he look sorry about it. It probably woke him up as much as it did you.

He pulled up to a pump with a worn down, peeled off number on it and turned off the car. Your dad grunted as he sat up and said something about looking for a bathroom. Sarah asked around if anyone wanted any snacks before she went into the store and bought some things for the rest of the ride. It was just you and Joel left in the truck.

Joel was inserting his credit card into the little slot below the screen and pressed some buttons. The loud beeping sounds responded after every push Joel gave them. You watched him. You felt sorry for the way you reacted and wanted to say something. You felt like a dog walking back to its owner with its tail between its legs. His shoulders were pulling at the fabric of his shirt and the hair falling on his neck curled up and swayed with the wind for a while. Your window was down and he was close to you, the gusts of wind flowed in your direction and you could smell his cologne from where you were. The sun touched his exposed skin and you looked at how lively his skin received the warmth. You felt uneasy when you tried to speak up, you weren’t used to apologizing first in arguments but with him it felt different, it felt like the mature thing to do.

You unbuckled your seatbelt and scooted up towards your window. You placed your arms flatly along the slit where the glass was supposed to be and rested your head on your arms. His back was to you and you tried to soften the atmosphere with a smile.

“Hey.” This time you spoke first. He turned his head and looked at your smile. You saw his face pull up into a small grin just before he turned his attention back onto the screen.

“Hey.” He grabbed the gas pump and put it into the car. His body was now facing your direction and he was staring at you, waiting for you to say something else. Your eyes sparkled and you couldn’t help but admire him even though you were still a little hurt. He was beautiful and looking at him made you feel anxious with ease. It was weird that he had this effect on you, he relaxed your body into a steady state but also kindled you and made you feen for his attention.

“Uh, I’m sorry. I didn’t think about what you said and I just..sorta, attacked you.”

“Sorta?” His voice was deep and the smoothness of it tickled your heart for a moment. Hearing him speak always did that to you. His grin became a smile and you could tell in that moment he fully forgave you. Truthfully, he wasn’t even expecting an apology. He wasn’t ever upset at you, he understood why you reacted the way you did, but he let you apologize anyway. He had a feeling the words were more for you than they were for him.

“Ok relax. I don’t apologize alright I’m just- I’m trying to be mature about this whole thing. I overreacted a little and I wasn’t thinking about Sarah and my dad and all of that. I’m sorry.”

Joel’s hand gripped the pump and shook it to get the last drops of gas out of it. He put it right back in its place and opened your car door. You adjusted yourself and sat with your feet dangling outside and your hands resting on your lap. Joel’s arms were stretched out on either side of him. One hand was holding the door open and the other hand was holding onto the frame of the car.

“This is your first time apologizing for…anything?” He was overlooking the apology.

This is hard for me as it is man just..pay attention.

“Mm no..I’ve apologized for other things but I never..I’m- I don’t do..this.” You were squirming. You felt uncomfortable and you could see he was enjoying it. His smile turned into a smirk and he blinked as he watched you get the words out.

“So you’re sayin’ I’m your first?”

You blushed.

Jesus christ. Asshole.

Now you were embarrassed.

How is he thinking about that right now. I’m swallowing my pride and getting made fun of.

“Joel. Please. I’m serious.” You giggled between words and tried to laugh the embarrassment away.

“Nah I know baby I’m jus’ messin’ with you. I’m sorry too. I shouldn’ have jus’ sprung that on you..” You looked down into your lap and played with your fingers while he kept talking “..we can talk about it if you’d like.”

You looked up into his gaze and gave him a soft look.

“Yeah. Yeah I think that’s a good idea.”

You felt more relaxed. Your mind wasn’t drawing up wrong conclusions and you were able to feel settled.

“Good.” There was a pause after he said that. Joel looked at the door where your dad and Sarah were supposed to be coming out of but there was no sign of them anywhere. You followed his movements and looked at the doors. Nothing. You both looked at eachother and he gave you a sincere look then started to speak again. “How’s the trip so far?”

You relaxed into the seat and responded with a beam.

“Oh, so interesting. So far I’ve seen the back of your neck, your wrist, a rabbit in a field somewhere, and the gas station of a town in the middle of nowhere.” Your satirical comments made Joel drop his head with a breath and you saw him suppress a laugh. He straightened his lips into a kind smile and looked back up at you.

“You think sarcasm’s funny?”

“You thought it was funny.”

“No I didn’t.”

“But you laughed.”

“No I didn’t.”

“But I just saw you laugh.”

“Yeahhhh, but I didn’t laugh.”

Your brows furrowed and you gave him a false frown.

“You’re a buzz kill y’know.” Your words were meant to come out a lot more serious but you couldn’t help but grin when you spoke.

“That’s funny cause I think I'm a pretty fun guy.”

“So you’re self-centered is what you’re saying.”

Joel smiled. He liked banter with you. You made it easy and he liked that you weren’t intimidated by it.

“I just know I’m funny. Tha’s all I’m sayin’.”

“Mhmm.” Your conversation ended there. You heard the distant ring of a bell when the door from the gas station store opened and you saw your dad and Sarah walking back into the truck. Joel motioned for you to sit back properly in your seat and he closed the door. He got into the drivers seat just as your dad and Sarah made their way into the car. Sarah was talking and giggling and your dad looked awkward. Not in the way where he was annoyed but in the way where he wanted Sarah to stop talking.

“No man, honestly, I think you should’ve said yes.” Sarah’s voice overpowered the radio as Joel turned the truck back on.

“Yes to what?” Joel questioned.

“A lady in there was going crazy over him.”

Your dads ears were a light red color and he was putting the sweater over his face again trying to hide away. He slipped into the passenger seat and layed down.

“She was not, Sarah. That’s not what happened.” Your dad muffled from below the cotton piece and Joel bit his smile away as he drove onto the street.

“It’s exactly what happened. She asked if I was your kid and she asked if you were visiting. I've nevah seen ya beforeee, are ya new in town? I could show you arounddd if you’d like.” Sarah mocked her thick Texas accent with a laugh.

“That doesn’t mean she was askin’ if I’m single.”

“Say what you want but she was looking for a ring.”

“Daddddd.” “Woooww.” You and Joel teased him at the same time.

“Okayyyy okay alright. Enoughh. Imma jus’ go back to sleep. Wake me up when we’re there.”

“Yeah alright, don’t think about her too much though. We can’t have you broken hearted this weekend.” Sarah liked to tease anyone she could. It was part of her personality, much like her dads.

You and Joel let out a low laugh when your dad grunted from under the sweater. You looked at Joel through the rearview mirror and his eyes almost instantly connected with yours. There was no other way to describe how you felt besides peace. It was a complete infatuated, admiration, longing sense of peace that you felt in that moment where you all shared a laugh and you and Joel stole glances at eachother. Time actually stopped for a couple of seconds. He smiled at you and his eyes had a glimmer in them. It very well could’ve been the sun reflecting off of the dashboard but you had a feeling it wasn’t.

The next couple of hours you fell in and out of sleep. The wind was cooler now that it was later in the day and you were getting closer to the coast. Sarah was scrolling on her phone and your dad had his eyes closed while the wind abated his nausea. You were awake but your eyes were closed and you leaned your head against the headrest behind you.

“We’re almos’ there guys, hold on for a couple of minutes alrigh’?” Joel said. You looked out of the front window and saw glimpses of a body of water between the large trunks of trees. The leaves and branches were moving side to side and they made the atmosphere feel more welcoming. The air was fresher and a lot thinner than it was in the city. It smelled of coal and beef. Someones grilling nearby. It was 5 in the afternoon when Joel pulled into the driveway of the house and he finally turned off the truck.

You opened the car door and stood on your feet, everyone else did the same. You all walked to the trunk of the car and grabbed the bags that belonged to you while your dad went ahead of everyone and unlocked the house. You walked up the front steps and looked around the porch before walking into the house. You hadn’t been here in months but it was like you were here a couple days ago. You remembered grilling outside, reading books by the pool, kicking the ball around with Sarah, and playing with one of the kids that lived a couple houses down the road.

When you went inside, everyone silently made their way up the stairs and claimed a room to sleep in. You chose the room you always did, the one that was at the end of the hall and in the corner of the house. It had a huge window that overlooked the backyard and the lake for a mile. You felt exhausted and you knew everyone else did too since no one said a word when you arrived. It was Friday afternoon and you didn’t feel like staying in your room. You wanted to go out and do something because you were stuck in a car all day and you can’t remember the last time when you were this bored. You took a quick shower and changed into your navy panties with some clean shorts and a clean shirt before heading back downstairs. In the living room, the golden sun beamed through the glass doors and it made the house feel warm. Joel was sitting around the old wooden dining table next to a window and Sarah was laid on the couch watching a movie. Your dad was nowhere to be seen.

Must be in bed. Can’t blame him, that's a crazy hangover.

You walked over to Joel and sat across from him. He had a glass of scotch in one hand and an old newspaper in the other.

“Didn’t know we still got newspapers here.” Your words broke the silence. You looked at the bold heading on the withered piece of paper and scrunched your nose at the words. Carnival Couple Arrested for Public Indecency.

Oh I remember this, it was a couple of years ago.

Joel finished off the last ounce of scotch before closing the paper and putting it aside.

“I think i’s an old one. Can’t remember the last time I sat down n read a paper.” He leaned back into the chair and dropped his hands on his lap below the table. His stare was deep. He was waiting for you to say something else.

“I'm bored. Can we go out or something?”

“I was actually gettin’ hungry. Your dad said he was gonna knock out pretty early cause of the headache but we can go shoppin’ n get some things for the weekend if you want. You won’t be bored after that.”

“Yeah sounds good. Sarah, you wanna go with us?” You raised your voice a bit, enough for it to reach the living room but there was no response. You got up off of your chair and walked into the living room. Sarah was still in the position she had been in earlier but this time she had one arm over her stomach and the other was dangling off of the sofa. She was asleep. You made your way back to the dining table and stopped right in front of Joel. His chair was openly angled towards you this time and his legs were slightly spread open. His right elbow was resting on the table next to him and his hand took the form of a fist that he used to support his head.

Ohmy..god. Fuck he looks good.

You looked him up and down and focused on the space between his thighs. Your eyes made their way up to his stomach and then to his collar bones that were left exposed by the unbuttoned shirt at the top. His eyes looked a little drowsier than normal but he was still very awake.

“Uhm- Sarah’s asleep.” You felt yourself blush. Towering over him and looking down to meet his gaze made you feel even more nervous than you ever have around him. It was a different power dynamic and your stomach flipped at the unfamiliar territory. His eyes widened at the news and a smile formed on his lips.

“..Really?” His voice was quiet. He slowly leaned forward and tilted his head up to look directly at you. You didn’t answer, you were frozen. You could tell he had something on his mind but you were more keen on figuring out where you both stood regarding your earlier conversation.

“Yeah..maybe you and I should just go buy some things. She looks tired, I wouldn’t wanna wake her.” You tried to ignore the need in his eyes but the ache between your legs made it difficult. You took a step back to give him some space and looked towards the living room.

Joel let out a breath of defeat and stood up.

“Alright. Sounds good. Come on, we could walk there.”

“Walk?”

“Yeah, you know, like people used to do before cars n horses?”

He’s not funny. You told yourself to try and keep from laughing. You didn’t want to give him the satisfaction.

“I know how they got around. How are we meant to walk all the way back here with all the things we bought?” You smiled, you couldn’t help it. He was corny and cliché and predictable with his responses but you did think he was a little funny even though you’d never admit it.

“Right, ok..well-”

“I’ll drive.” You took the keys from the counter and started for the front door. You made your way to his car and turned it on like he’s done thousands of times. Joel followed up behind you and took longer strides to try and keep up.

“Please don’t crash.”

You both buckled up and you started to turn into the road.

“You wouldn’t even be able to tell if I scratched something. You need a new car.”

“I do not. This one works fine.” You kept going straight down the road until you saw a dock that indicated to you the store was close.

“Mhm. Whatever. Look, there's the dock.” You nodded with your head and Joel turned around to look at it.

“What about it?”

“That’s how I know the stores close by.” Your tone was totally serious and there wasn’t a hint of humor in it. You kept your eyes on the pavement but you saw Joel turn his head to look at you.

“What? You don’t know the names of the streets?” He genuinely sounded shocked. Your eyebrows lifted in surprise and you laughed at how obscene the question was.

“Why would I know that?”

Joel stared at you blankly and squinted to try and tell if you were lying. You weren’t.

“Jesus Chris’, nevermind. Anyway, listen, I think we should talk about what I said.”

The tone of his voice fell into a more serious and genuine one and the air felt more thick and dangerous. You were nervous. You felt like you should’ve been more calm considering you knew what was coming but you were still nervous. You didn’t know what he would say.

“Yeah I think we should.” You pulled into the parking lot of the store and found a spot that looked out to the lake. Joel unbuckled himself and turned his body towards you, you did the same.

“I’m sorry I sprung that on you like that. I said I wanted to take some time to think about everythin’ n process it but I kept teasin’ you n I shouldn’ve done that. I did mean it when I said I enjoyed that night but I had to think about what your dad might say or- or Sarah you know, if they found out, n I jus’ got..I felt- it was intimidatin’. I’m sorry.”

You stared at him. You understood his fear. His eyes were soft and they were pleading you to understand where he was coming from.

“I get it.”

“You get it?”

“Yeah. I know it was a pretty impulsive decision and I understand that we’re risking things but, Joel I don’t- I mean, I’m not gonna go screaming that we fucked. I can keep a secret, and if we’re careful about..doing what we do then..I think we’ll be ok.”

“Yeah..” he let out a long sigh “..yeah I think you’re right.” His face relaxed and his chest dropped with the exhale of his breath.

“Yeah. And I’ve thought about it too you know..what my dad might say or Sarah if they find out..” You looked down to your lap. You played with your fingers and toyed with the folds of your shorts. You felt good admitting to him that you also had these thoughts but you didn’t ever think about them too much, you didn’t want to think that them finding out was ever a possibility. Truthfully you had no idea what they might say if they ever found out, but you didn’t tell Joel this. “..but they won’t. It’s ok. We’ll just..be selective..about it.”

Joel looked down and let out a small laugh at your word choice. He rubbed a hand over his face and smiled at the floor. You felt more relieved now that you had cleared the air and were on common ground.

“Well, but I don’ wanna be selective about it.” Your eyes met his and he had that same depth in his eyes from before. There was a hunger and primal need to them that instantly made you weak. Your breathing picked up and you could feel your heart beat out of your body. Joel scooted closer to the edge of his seat and reached his arm around to cup your cheek. Your face melted into his hand and your body instantly responded to his touch. You felt hot. The air became thicker than it was and you were pretty sure you were soaked through your underwear. Joels thumb brushed the bottom of your lips before he parted them with his finger. His thumb glided along the top of your teeth and your mouth was opened before he even said anything.

Joels smirk made your heart shiver and you tilted your head down before inching forward to take his thumb in your mouth. You wrapped your lips around the base of his finger and sucked it in a little while he slowly pulled it out of you. He watched you with an intense need and mumbled something under his breath. You didn’t take your eyes off of his. Your tongue swirled around the tip of his finger until he fully took it out of your mouth and rubbed small circles on your bottom lip. You were wet, you knew you were and your ache grew every second.

“I haven’t fucked you yet.” His eyes moved down to your lips but you kept staring at him. You were quiet. You blinked and waited for him to continue. “You said that you weren’t gonna go screaming that we fucked..but we haven’t.”

You rolled your eyes at his wit and smiled. You moved backwards and rested your back on the door while you took off your sandals and put your legs on his lap. You didn’t say anything yet, you just took him in. He looked down to your thighs and you looked down to his chest. The little exposed area from his shirt made your pussy pulse. You thought about bracing yourself on him as you rode his cock up and down, making him groan. You could tell he was thinking about something also, you could feel the rise under his jeans. You looked down to the zipper of his pants and now you felt needy. You wanted to suck his dick and have his hands pull on your hair. He didn’t let you do it last time but maybe now it would be different. You rubbed your foot over the zipper of his jeans and you felt him look up at you. Your eyes stayed on the growing bulge and you bit down on your lip.

“You can fuck me right now if you want.” Your voice was innocent and seductive. Your head was tilted down and you looked at him through your lashes.

“You want me to fuck you in this parking lot?” He questioned you but you could tell by the way that he said it that he was thinking about it. He liked the idea.

“Mhm..” you nodded slowly. Joel licked his teeth and sucked in a sharp breath when you applied some more pressure. “I want people to see how wet you make me.”

Joel looked up at you. Now he saw the want in your eyes. He saw how desperately you were looking at him and he knew how much you wanted to have him inside of you. He had a dangerous smirk on his face and if he didn’t enjoy making you wait, he would fuck you with all the windows down for anyone to hear your screams. Joel grabbed your ankles and you stopped moving them. He opened your feet and set them apart on the center console of the truck. His touch was electrifying and you stared at him from between your legs.

“Take your shorts off” Your eyes didn’t leave his as you stripped down into your underwear. You kicked off your shorts and tossed them below the glovebox. Joel stared at the wet spot on your underwear and he licked his lips at the sight.

“You’re already wet for me?” He teased you. He liked teasing you. “Fuck baby..” His voice was barely above a whisper and he leaned back on his door, much farther than you wanted him. “..touch yourself for me.” He commanded you in a way that wasn’t rough but somehow it came out more controlling than he meant it.

You put your fingers above the wet spot on your underwear and applied pressure before you started to rub yourself slowly.

“Oh- mmm Joel it- it feels good.” You let out slow breathes as low moans escaped your throat.

“Yeah princess? You like touching yourself?” Joels breath picked up a little bit but he didn’t move. His attention was split between watching your fingers make circles and the expressions on your face. “Fuck- go a little faster baby.”

You rubbed faster and felt a little coil in your lower stomach. Your head pushed against the window and your chest rose with the feeling of your orgasm began to build.

“My dirty girl, fuck baby. You want people to see you finger yourself?”

Your head nodded against the glass. His words made you feel warmer and you felt your pussy get wetter at the sensations. Your breathing was starting to pick up and your moans came out a little louder. You moved your underwear aside and your fingers looked for the entrance between your slit.

“Uh uh. Not yet. Keep rubbing yourself.” His hands moved to his zipper but he didn’t do anything, he just kept them there. You lifted your head off of the glass to look at him and you stopped touching yourself to make sure you heard him right.

“What?”

He smirked. Joel shifted in his seat and he let out a quiet groan. The denim rubbed against his straining cock and you looked down to the fully grown bulge begging to be let out.

Oh. OH. He likes this.

“Above your underwear baby. Keep rubbing yourself.” Your pussy throbbed faster when it all clicked.

“Do you want me to.. ask you permission.. to finger myself?” His eyes glimmered.

He does.

Joel didn’t say anything but the way his pupils dilated gave him away.

“Just imagine they’re my fingers, ok princess? Just ‘till I say so.”

Your pussy got wetter and you did what he said. You wanted him to be pleased with you. You wanted him to know that you would do whatever he said just to show him how well you could take orders. Your fingers slipped out from your slit and they went back to the top of your soaked panties. You rubbed yourself harder and faster, trying to build your orgasm back up. He stared at you for a couple minutes, directing your speed and pressing down above his jeans. Your stomach tightened with every passing second and your breaths came out as whimpers. You were close.

“Joel pl- please, please let me, fu-ohmyg- fuck please let me finger myself. Please..” Your breathing was heavy and you could barely form proper sentences, you needed to feel something inside of you. You were begging and you were desperate. You felt so empty and you had a feeling he wasn’t going to fuck you so your fingers had to be the next best thing.

“Mhm. Just one finger baby.”

You were frantic with need. Your hand quickly reached down to the same place as before and easily slipped inside.

“Oh- Fuck..Joel I- it feels so good.” You moved your finger in and out of yourself, slowly at first but then you quickly increased the pace. The sounds of your wetness filled the air and you looked into Joels eyes, trying to get some type of approval.

“Your pussy looks so perfect baby. Keep fucking yourself, just like that.”

You felt a fire burn in your stomach and your muscles were searching for that push to release. Your eyes stayed on Joel. He studied the way you curled your finger up into yourself and how you rubbed your clit with the palm of your hand. For a second, his eyes left your body and they started to track something else. They looked behind you and you saw him grow a mischievous smirk below his mustache.

“There’s a man.. walking to his car..” Joel spoke softly, like the man could hear him. You smiled. You never thought about it before but the chance that you could get caught tuned you on. Seeing how much Joel enjoyed it also made you that much closer to cumming on your finger. “..You could get caught right now baby. How does that make you feel?”

Joel looked at you for a response.

“So fucking- good Joel, it makes me feel so good.” You couldn’t focus on anything but your finger.

“Yeah? Being a dirty little slut who wants to get caught fucking herself? Shit baby you’re-”

“Joel please can I- can I use another finger. Please.”

Joel looked down to your hand and he leaned forward. He wrapped a hand around one of your ankles and another hand around your wrist.

“Stop.” His word was slow. He took his time saying it and he slowed your hand with his grip. You pulled your finger out of yourself and slowly rubbed your slit up and down. You whimpered at the feeling of emptiness again and your stomach dropped at the loss of tension.

You stared at Joel, waiting for him to say something or at least look at you. His hand slightly lessened the grip on your wrist and he brought your hand up to your mouth.

“Taste yourself baby. Tell me how you taste.” You saw the excitement in Joels eyes. He looked like a little kid who’d just seen a puppy. His smile was devilish and his eyes were dark. You opened your mouth and stuck your tongue out to fully take your finger in. You moaned at the taste and your pussy throbbed with the feeling of his stare.

“Do you like it?”

You smiled. Who would’ve thought Joel Miller was this fucking dirty. You nodded as a response and gave him a seductive whine. Joel looked behind you and his eyes stayed on the man sitting in the drivers seat on his phone.

“Tell me what you taste like, baby.” Joel let go of your hand and he brought his thumb over your clit and rubbed. Your mouth parted at the pressure and a moan escaped your lips.

“Fuck- Joel- Go faster.” You used up every last breath of air to get your words out.

“Tell me what you taste like.”

“I uhm- sweet.” Your breaths were closer to pants.

“And what else..” His voice was dark and excited.

“And- go- Joel please go faster.”

“Keep talkin’ princess. Keep talkin’ n I’ll go faster.”

Joel moved his fingers down your aching pussy and toyed with your entrance. Your hips rocked forward to try and get some relief but you couldn’t.

“Keep movin’ the car and that man’s gonna see you.”

“I don’t care. I- fu- Joel. I don’t care please just..” you were breathless.

“What baby. What, tell me what you need”

You arched your back and let out a small whimper. You couldn’t take it anymore. Your greed blinded you and the only thing you could think about was getting his fingers in you. You rocked your hips more into his hand and the car slowly moved from side to side. You couldn’t take the teasing anymore.

“Shit- you want it that bad princess? You want that man to come over here and see what a mess you are..how you're begging me to finger you where anyone can see you?” Joels voice was the only thing that disrupted your thoughts. “God you’re fucking soaked for me.”

“Joel please. I need your fingers- god, my pussy needs your fingers in me. Please make me cum I- I need you to make me cum.”

Joel slipped two fingers inside your pussy and you throbbed around him. Your hips recreated circles on his leather seat and your moans turned into cries of bliss.

“You’re so fucking sexy when you beg for me baby. I like to feel how hot..” His fingers glided in and out of you “.. wet..” he moved them faster “..and throbbing you get for me princess.”

“Joel- I’m.. so close. Don’t stop..” Your hips rolled faster and the truck quietly creaked under you. Joel groaned under his breath and he lowered his head above your clit. He pouted his lips above you and he let a web of saliva drip onto your already soaked pussy. His thumb rubbed his spit all over your clit and it dripped down into your entrance. Joel took his fingers out of you and grabbed some of his saliva with his fingers then inserted them back into you. You watched him concentrate on your pussy and the tightness in your pelvis became unbearable. You let out a moan and leaned your head back into the window.

“Fuck- I don’t care if- ohmygod- if anyone sees Joel. I- I don’t care if they hear me or- holy shit.. or if they catch us just..please. Please let me cum Joel I can’t do it anymore. Please”

You were barely able to think straight. You were desperate to find your release and your pussy tightened around Joels fingers. He kept his face above your pussy and you felt his warm breath tickle your clit. He lightly licked between your folds and soaked up all the sweetness he could find.

“Fuck baby..that feel good? You wanna cum for me? On my fingers in the parking lot princess?”

You bit your lip. You nodded your head again in ecstacy and suppressed your cries as best as you could. Your heart was heavy in your chest and your legs were trembling from the tension.

“Say it.” Joel demanded from between your legs. His fingers curled higher inside of you and they coerced you into begging for your release. His tongue stroked your clit and it took everything in you to get your last words out.

“Pl- Please Joel let me- ohh fuck.. Please let me cum.” One of your hands braced itself on the roof of the truck and the other weaved its way between Joels hair. You thrusted your hips up into his mouth and his fingers pulled in and out of you.

“You did good for me. You did so fucking good for me my.. slutty little princess. Fuck you look- so fucking pretty. Cum on my fingers baby. Let me feel you cum on them.”

His permission did more than enough for you. Your hand pushed hard against the ceiling and your pussy tightened around his fingers. Your head went limp and chest was rising heavily.

“Fuck fuck Joel- fuck ohmygod.”

His fingers slowed down and stayed in your pussy while you rode out your high.

“God baby you’re gorgeous.”

Your hand fell from the ceiling and you gasped for any air that you could. Your ears were ringing and your leg wrapped around his back trying to bring him as close to you as you could. Joel took his fingers out of you and gently placed a kiss where they used to be. His tongue licked between your folds and he took any mess your pussy let out. He was starving and you could tell he wanted more. While he cleaned you up with his tongue you found your voice and told him what you wanted.

“Joel please let me suck your dick.” There was a different type of desperation in your voice and you wanted to see him come undone. You wanted to hear him beg the way you did and you wanted him to lose all control that he had.

His eyes met yours from between your thighs and he smiled between his act. He looked back down to your pussy and finished what he was doing. Joel sat back up and cleaned himself before he spoke.

“Get dressed baby, we gotta go.”

Are you fucking kidding me?

“Joel..” He looked at you. “..please.” You leaned forward and inched closer to him. You planted a kiss in the corner of his lips and moved to the side of his face. You kissed the side of his cheek and your body heat made Joel expose his neck more to you. You hovered your lips over his ear and whispered.

“I wanna feel your cock in me. Please.”

You heard Joel grumble below his breath and his forehead rested on your shoulder for a second before he whispered in your ear.

“Take your panties off and put your shorts on.”

You were confused. You didn’t fully understand but again, you did whatever he asked you to. You wanted him to know you did what you were told and you were hoping this somehow meant you would finally be able to at least get a glimpse of his dick. You leaned back into your seat and took your panties off. The cotton that padded your pussy was darker and wet with your essence and you handed them to him by the string. He took them from your hands and rolled them up into a little ball. Joel pocketed your underwear in his back pocket and he watched you get dressed. You both got out of the car and met behind the trunk as you began to walk towards the store.

“That was my favorite pair.” Your arm brushed alongside his and you looked up to see him smiling.

“They’re my favorite pair too.”

Your lower stomach flipped at the comment and you couldn’t help but blush under the sunset.

“Im serious Joel..” you lowered your voice “..when can I suck your cock.” You looked up at him with innocent eyes, like you weren’t walking around with your panties in his pocket, like he didn’t just finger your pussy with people around. Your look was totally pure and there was a filthy undertone that only Joel would be able to recognize.

“Soon baby. Don’t worry.”

Joel fought the urge to wrap his arm around you and instead, he rested it on your lower back. You both walked into the store and headed for two completely different directions. He went to the dairy section for eggs, milk, and yogurt. You went to the bread section for your dads favorite cereal and bagels for you and Sarah.

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