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#seriously i never thought i was going to like this series as much as i do
nereidprinc3ss · 2 days
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BESTIE. I was just casually thinking about your whole dybmn series and now I’m wondering, as both reader and Spencer become more confident with their spicy dynamics, what kind of lover would Spencer become with her? New k!nks, maybe?, I JUST genuinely think that Spencer is so whipped for her that he would definitely use toys and anything else, not only to experiment but to get to know and find out about all of her secret facets.
I believe she would be his “creation” like he would be so proud to see her development in her confidence in spicy times like smirking all over as she does anything to please him and he’d be like “yeah, I created that” because I’M BITING MY PILLOW RIGHT NOW and gonna dig up a hole after this to hide myself because my thoughts are so hideous. Girlie, what did you do to me? I wasn’t like this. 😩
oh let’s discuss
18+ long ass rambling and things i think about A Lot ……..
in my opinion (which is not the end all be all everyone can perceive them however they’d like) reader and spencer definitely bring out more sexually adventurous sides of each other like they just have a shit ton of chemistry and for a while ithink spencer would just be easing reader into sexuality so nothing that crazy would happen aside from the power dynamics we see pretty much from the start. i think those would definitely get stronger and occasionally more variable. im not usually into sub!spence but i think there would be times he would definitely allow reader to have more control (i don’t ever think he’d be like calling them mommy lmfao) but aside from that i could also see him veering VERY rarely in a slightly harder!dom direction. like he’ll never hurt or seriously degrade you but in p3 reader says something about liking it when he acts like they belong to him and he was really into that. as the relationship progresses i think he would almost start taking more ownership of r’s body in a way, like obviously nothing is ever nonconsensual but he just knows you so well that it’s like… well he knows you better than you know yourself sooo you let him call the shots, but at his core i think spencer is forever oriented to please. he just wants to make you feel good, that’s always gonna be his goal, so he’s always going to listen and even if the power dynamic is weighed in his favor you are actually always the one in control bc he’d do anything for u lol
in terms of kinks…. idk, i never really see spencer as a super kinky guy? like he just knows too much about paraphilia and obviously sexual violence ties into a lot of his job so i sincerely doubt he’d find giving or receiving pain arousing beyond like slapping your ass or you scratching his back or whatever. love is always at the heart of sex for him and that’s going to be the most important part, he’ll never be able to see you just as a body. he’ll always see you as the person he’s in love with and there are things he’s simply not willing to do to the person he loves.
because of his trauma he’s super duper hesitant about bondage BUT i think he wouldn’t be completely opposed to very light restraints on you or him, he’d just have to be in a specific mood. i also never see him as being someone who’s super into toys because he’s such a luddite, he can barely stand having an email i doubt he’s going to have an extensive collection of sex toys. but he would so use your vibrator on you or make you use it on yourself in front of him again if he’s in a very specific mood
oh but YES he DELIGHTS in having defiled and corrupted you. idc idc im not accepting criticism on this. like he spoils you so much that you’re used to getting him whenever you want and so you’re not very subtle about it. if you get all needy in public and start draping yourself all over him and giving him looks and pulling on his sleeve because you want to go home he’ll fuck you in rossi’s bathroom because he wants to encourage your lewd behavior.
obviously he has boundaries tho and he has respect for you and the people around him like he won’t do anything that draws attention and he’ll only ever do things he knows he can get away with without anyone else noticing
later seasons spence also LOVES when you leave marks on him he thinks it’s cute how you mark your territory and he’s not at all embarrassed if there is a hickey above his collar at work. in his mind it’s like. why would he care about other peoples opinions on his sex life when they have nothing to do with it god i think about this all the time
anyway im sorry if this was disappointing😭 idkidk, thank you for asking about my thoughts tho bc i am always down for headcanons
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Cookies and Brownies - Gaz x Reader
Content Warnings - Fluff with some very, very minor angst.
Series Masterlist
Masterlist
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Normally, Gaz did not find leaving his flat so difficult. Usually he was already gnawing at the bit to get back onto the field from his mandatory leave, to get back to doing something instead of lying around. Well now he had a reason to want to stay, for the person next door who also happens to work at his favorite bakery/cafe.
There is something cruel about that, ironically cruel. Gaz has never had any trouble getting people to come home with him, sometimes he didn’t even need to put on any of his charm. But he knows it was because of his looks, charming like a prince in a fairytale. Was it the military lifestyle? Was that why he found it so hard to keep people around him and wanting him? Maybe.
But you, you were different. You didn’t see his return to the military as a goodbye, closing your door on whatever is happening between the two of you. No, you worked out a solution in mere seconds. Gift packages, he’d seen some men he’s worked with before get them. Packages usually from loved ones, like family or partners. Sometimes from friends. Gaz hadn’t gotten one since his early days, back when his grandmother was still around. God rest her soul.
It’s two weeks later, two weeks into being at this base in this fucking desert that the package arrives. His name is called out alongside others and he is handed a package, it has several postmarks slapped onto it with your handwriting on the box for the address.
His stomach twists at the sight of your handwriting, how is that possible? How can he feel that way over handwriting? It’s not just anyone’s handwriting, Gaz thought, it's yours. Distinctly and completely yours. Something no other person could replicate, just you.
Gaz waits until he’s in his tent, empty thankfully, to cut open the package. Inside there is a letter on top of several tins that his mind immediately thinks are sewing supplies until he connects the dots. He opens the letter first, imagining his grandmother slapping the back of his head for being rude and going for the gifts first.
More of your handwriting, his heart pounds as he reads through the letter. He can’t help but rub his thumb over where you wrote his name. Kyle. His real name, not a call sign given to him years ago. Kyle Garrick.
Kyle opens the first tin and finds it filled to the brim with chocolate chip cookies. It dawns on Kyle then that there are four tins, which means lots of baked goods. He licks his lips as he pulls out the other tins and opens them, just to know which one’s hold which.
There is another tin of cookies, white macadamia nut and two tins of brownies. One looks like the classic kind and the other filled with cookie-brownies. He feels like a wolf staring down prey, unguarded sheep ready to be eaten. Before he digs in, he puts the tins away and rips a piece of paper from his notebook and writes.
Dear Kyle,
Hello! I hope the package found you alright and that I had added enough postmarks for it to make the journey. I hope you’re still at base and not somewhere fighting bad guys haha. Things here have seriously slowed down or maybe its because our best customer isn’t currently here. I made some cookies and brownies although they might be stale. If they are, I’m sorry but I’m not sure how to stop that from happening. Do you have any kind of favorite candies? If you send me a letter with your favorites I’ll be sure to include it in the next batch, maybe even bake it into the cookies.
It’s been raining impossibly often but according to Mrs. Thompson its that time of the year. Is that true or is she trying to keep me from rightfully complaining about not seeing the sun in a week? Why is it that when you left the sun decided to hide behind rain clouds? Do you have some kind of deal worked out with the weather? If so, let me in on it, there’s only so much rain a person can handle. Well, I don’t want to hold you up. Enjoy the likely stale cookies and brownies.
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How Relationships With Them Would Be: Pt 3
Let's finish this off because this post series has taken a long time to finish.
(*sigh* never mind. This will be in 2 parts because it's longer than I thought it'd be.)
Cater:
I mean.... he might be ok? But he seems to have a lot of issues going on with himself, so I'm unsure if he'd even be ready for a relationship. It would probably be a pretty stable relationship, though. Although, if you're one of those "I need silence or I will go fucking insane." people, probably won't work out.
MC: *trying to zone out because they need it*
Cater: MC! YOU'LL NEVER GUESS WHAT JUST HAPPENED!
MC: *still trying to enjoy the silence*
Cater: MC! COME ON COME ON!
MC: Can I have some peace for a moment?
Cater: But you'll miss it if you don't come!
Probably a pretty good boyfriend for certain personalities.
Ace:
Fuck no. Have you not read the wiki thing where it says he literally ghosted his gf? I get that was in middle school, but this mans literally runs from commitment and will probably bully you because he thinks it's teasing.
Ace: Seriously? That's the grade you got?
MC: I tried my hardest! I'm not from this world, remember?!
Ace: But Grim got a better grade than you. Grim! How dumb do you have to be?
MC: *either raging or crying*
(I may have based this off a fic I read)
I hope you're good at teasing his back, otherwise y'all will never get along.
Deuce:
Maybe another good one? He seems to have gotten better with his anger, so that's something. He probably wouldn't leech off of you too much. I think his only problem is that he might not see the relationship as an actual relationship, y'know? He might just treat it like a normal friendship or something. Maybe once he's graduated, he'd be better with knowing how to deal with a relationship, but for now? Not so much. He might also honestly forget y'all are in a relationship. (this might just be a headcannon? Idk)
MC: We should give each other pet names!
Deuce: Why?
MC: Cause we're dating!
Deuce: *pauses to load* ....OH!.... Right.... yeah.... we are.
But honestly? Probably a pretty good boyfriend.
Jack:
Ok, now we're just getting good boyfriend material, wtf? But seriously, Jack is a family man, and he's good at keeping at his goals. He'd be perfect at keeping his significant other on track and keep them from procrastinating. He'd probably also help them keep in shape. I feel like his only flaw is he tends to either overestimate people's abilities or try to push his views onto others a little too much.
Jack: You have to keep going or else you'll get used to stopping right before you get the exercise you need!
MC: *literally sweating through their clothes and pretty much fucking dying* I NEED A BREAK!
Jack: Just keep going! It's fine!
As long as you're an overachiever and you're ok with your limits being pushed, I'd say he's good bf material.
It's been a while, so I hope I still made this ok. There were a lot more good boyfriends than I thought there'd be.
Oh well. I'll get the next part out at some point.
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ghostlyarchaeologist · 2 months
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Night Court S02E13 Dan's Parents.
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cloudblaze · 2 years
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I'm not even upset that Brambleclaw is being awful. I love reading about his fall from grace. He was a respectable warrior against all odds, until he let his fears about never being accepted get mixed up with his pride and turn into some sort of superiority complex that Hawkfrost is purposefully feeding and manipulating. It's fascinating.
(I do wish this arc didn't end with him getting rewarded though.)
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disneyprincemuke · 6 months
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best dress * fem!driver
when pictures circulate on instagram of her on a night out in her best dress, the guys start to get curious who she’s out and about with on a saturday night
pairings: sebastian vettel x fem!driver, oscar piastri x fem!driver, logan sargeant x fem!driver, george russell x fem!driver, lando norris x fem!driver, max verstappen x fem!driver
warnings: none
notes: i may have gotten carried away with this one… and this might have played out a LOT funnier in my head than it does written down
(series masterlist) | (📂 the rookie season)
-> the aftermath
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she pushes the door open and steps out of her racing home. she looks left and right cautiously, careful not to catch her colleagues’ attentions. there’s many nights she’d appreciate their companionship but tonight is not that night.
she can only step one down before her worst nightmare comes to life.
“hey, where are you going?” she turns her head, mouth agape as she meets lando’s curious eyes. his eyes scan her body and his head tilts. “and why are you all dressed up?”
she straightens her body and pats her dress down. she flicks her hair behind her shoulder, trying to ignore the awkward tension in the air.
“um,” she trails off, glancing at the group of engineers walking past them without another thought. “i’m going out tonight.”
lando’s smile drops. “oh,” he slouches, “i was here to ask you if you wanted to grab drinks with us at the bar tonight.”
“hey lando, did you f- what are you wearing?” oscar’s jaw drops, nose scrunched up as he points at her in what can only be described as disgust. “where are you even going?”
“out,” she answers with gritted teeth, glancing at the gantries of the paddocks. it’s so close yet so far away. “i’ll see you guys tomorrow, okay? i’ve really got to go.”
“but you never turn down post-quali drinks at the bar,” lando frowns. he presses his palm against his chest and throws his head back. “i can’t believe you’d betray me like that.”
oscar looks her up and down, eyebrow raising as it gets to the heels she’s put on. “why are you wearing heels? seriously, where the hell are you going?”
“exploring the city!”
“exploring the c– we’re here year after year. we know the best spots!” lando defends. ��come on! we’re going to have so much fun!”
“you’re exploring the city in heels?”
she narrows her eyes down into a mean glare. of course this is the one time that oscar decides to remember she doesn’t wear high heels for exploration purposes. “yeah.”
“you know you want to come with us.” lando shimmies his shoulders, face hopeful that the driver would change her mind. but she still shakes her head and his smile immediately drops. “fine. be that way.”
“i’m sorry, i already arranged my plans even before we flew to miami,” she laughs sheepishly, rubbing the back of her neck. “if you guys are going out tomorrow, i’m free to join.”
lando intertwines his fingers. “okay. but if you cancel again, i’m crashing into you the next race.”
“okay,” she chuckles, readjusting the strap of her purse. “i’ll catch you guys tomorrow.”
oscar rolls his eyes, but a smile still stretches his lips. “don’t get lost. it’s a big city, (y/n).”
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“yeah, penelope’s doing amazing,” max nods, his arm resting on the back of lando’s chair. one of his legs over the other, he takes a swig of his beer. “she just started school recently.”
“oh, i s-“
“hold up!” lando holds his arm out to max’s chest, his scream startling everyone seated around the table. the light from his phone illuminates his face as everyone turns to him with a puzzled stare. “oh, my god!”
“what?” max answers just as enthusiastically, smacking lando’s thigh to get his attention. lando lifts the phone up into his face, squinting as he tries to make out the person in the picture.
“yeah, don’t cut me off,” george scoffs as he folds his arms over his chest. “i was just asking if-“
“(y/n)’s out on a date!” lando yells, smacking max’s chest. he pushes himself off the chair and throws the phone into george’s lap. “dude, i knew it! i knew there was a reason she’s all dressed up!”
“seriously!” george screams towards his fellow brit.
“a date?” oscar scoffs, in absolute disbelief that his best friend could even have the ability to attract a man. “there’s no way.”
max grins sheepishly, handing the phone over to the australian. “i’m afraid so. someone saw her in a restaurant with a guy,” max states, “it’s all over instagram.”
oscar snorts, slowly analysing the grainy picture of the girl in a restaurant with somebody. sure, it’s similar to the dress she wore when they caught her sneaking out of the paddocks, but how sure can they be that it’s her?
“we should go and find her!” max suggests, his face lighting up and cheeks flushed from all the alcohol. he jumps in his seat and smacks george’s thigh lightly. “dude, let’s find her!”
“are you crazy?” george grabs max’s hand and throws it back at his body. “her date’s none of our business!”
though, lando disagrees with his friend. he clasps his hands together with a loud sound. “let’s go, gentlemen. we’re crashing (y/n)’s date.”
but only max stands up, hands on his hips and chest puffed out. “i’m ready. i’ve got my brave face on.”
“you look absolutely ridiculous,” george raises an eyebrow, “i don’t believe you used to scare off victoria’s suitors when you were younger.”
“me neither, but it somehow worked,” max nods proudly, turning slightly to look at george. “come on! this is practice for when it’s penelope’s turn! i have to make it believable this time.”
“you’re so drunk, mate,” george sighs. yet he still gets off his seat. “but i kinda want to see this with my own eyes.”
lando turns to oscar, still planted in his seat. lando doesn’t get to say a word before oscar starts shaking his head vigorously.
lando slouches. “why not?”
“i absolutely don’t believe that (y/n) is strong enough to take me in a normal fight,” oscar shakes his head, “but i’ve learned my lesson squeezing myself into a scenario that involves her dating life.”
george tilts his head. “what?”
oscar looks up, eyes scanning the three older men towering over him. “she gave me a really bad bruise one time when i scared off this guy that hit on her in the mall.”
“so?” max yanks oscar off his seat. “i’ll protect you. come on, i’ve got to see who’s sweeping (y/n) off her feet.”
“okay, but remember to tell her i tried to stop you,” oscar mutters, letting max push him towards the door.
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after many dms sent on instagram, phone calls made, and struggles to find a taxi, the four have finally arrived at the restaurant. it’s a quiet establishment in the further end of the city, heads turning as passersby recognise the huddled men by the entrance.
“are you sure it’s this one?” oscar looks up at the sign. it’s a lot fancier than he expected. “doesn’t really seem like (y/n)’s gig.”
“if i were taking the grid’s princess out on a date, i’d take her to a fancy restaurant too,” max shrugs, following oscar’s stare.
the amount of time it took them to connect the puzzle pieces really sobered him up.
george taps his foot on the ground, craning his neck for a better look through the window. “are you sure it’s here? i don’t see her.”
“the girl that posted it said she was here when snapped the picture,” lando confirms, looking between his phone screen and the sign of the restaurant. “what if (y/n) tricked us knowing we’d come running?”
once the server comes back out, guiding them to their table, each of them does their own part to pick the girl from the crowd.
“i don’t see her,” max sighs, taking one last look at the restaurant’s tables and picking up the menu. “there’s no way we ditched the bar for a wild goose chase.”
“because she’s in the far corner over there,” oscar says nonchalantly, head flicking towards the other end of the restaurant where it’s slightly darker than normal. “i noticed her when we were outside the restaurant.”
george slowly turns his head to oscar. “while we were busting our asses looking for her?”
oscar shrugs, eyes boring into the menu for a snack to fill himself with. “i told you — i’m not getting another bruise for meddling with her love life.”
“nice! there’s a table closer to her!” max suddenly says, already on his feet to follow the waiter. he turns around and beckons his friends to follow him. “come on!”
they keep their heads low as the face of the familiar girl comes into sight. oscar even covers with his face with the menu, having learned his lesson from all those years ago.
they’re a table diagonal from her, menus up to cover their faces from her. “dude, who is she with?”
“i don’t know, i can’t get a look at his face without revealing mine,” george mutters, peeking slightly above his menu. he darts back down and rolls his eyes. “max, your turn.”
“don’t make it look obvious,” lando mutters, nudging max’s elbow with his. “look like you’re looking for a waiter.”
max swiftly turns in his seat, completely twisting his torso to get a look. but the man is faced away, the driver comfortably sitting in the booth seat as she giggles at something he said.
“dude, i can’t,” max shrugs, shying away behind his menu once more.
to the table next to them, a menu drops and reveals sebastian. “what are you idiots doing here?”
george’s jaw drops, pointing a finger at the older man. “we could ask you the same.”
“we saw her getting in a random ass car outside the paddocks.” the other menu across sebastian lowers, revealing logan with his hood covering his head. “we followed her here.”
“so you know who she’s with?” max asks in a hushed whisper, leaning towards their table. he looks down at the empty table. “you haven’t ordered anything?”
“it took us a while to get a table,” logan shrugs, pulling his hood further down to cover his face. “food’s in the kitchen.”
“oh, what did you get?” max asks, now looking back at the menu for something to order.
“mate!” george scolds, rolling his eyes before facing the other table. “who is she with?”
“according to blythe, it’s jacob elordi,” sebastian says, then shrugs with the roll of his eyes. “whoever that is.”
“oh, i’ve heard of him,” max nods, pressing his lips together. “he was in euphoria, wasn’t he?”
the table falls silent, heads turning to look at the dutchman as his confession falls from his lips. max notices their stares and he simply shrugs. “kelly and i like to watch shows over the break.”
“still not a show i expected you to be watching,” lando scoffs, turning slightly to get a glimpse of the girl once more. “isn’t he a bit too old for her?”
max straightens up, stiffly turning to look at lando. his head tilts as an unimpressed expression lands on his face. “dude. easy on the age gap.”
“yours doesn’t count,” lando sighs, “she’s practically a baby!”
oscar clicks his tongue. “but i mean… jacob elordi isn’t ugly, yes? an upgrade from her only boyfriend, right, max?”
max shrugs. “i guess.”
sebastian nods towards the table, his eyes suddenly widening at the empty booth seat. “where did she go? did she ditch him?”
“no, she caught you.” a low feminine voice makes all their heads turn to the end of the table. she looks down and pulls the hood off of logan’s head and shoves him forward slightly. “why are you here? you’re better than this!”
logan shrugs, chuckling slightly. “you were being secretive! i was just curious!”
“this is the last time i’m going on a date from the paddocks,” she grunts, stomping her heel into the ground. “go home, you guys! we’ll talk about this tomorrow.”
sebastian hisses as the waiter stops behind her, dishes resting on top of the tray in his hands. “we already got some food.”
she narrows her eyes down, locking eyes with max. “you’re here too?”
max nods. “i suggested this,” his eyes go around the table, “team bonding activity.”
“i just wanted to see what would happen,” george admits. he points at max seated opposite him, “he said he wanted to scare off whoever your date is.”
“it’s true, i heard him say it,” lando nods, a small and guilty smile flashes at her. “we were just concerned about you.”
sebastian grabs her wrist gently, shaking her arm. “don’t be mad anymore. come on…”
“and you!” she points a finger at the australian sitting quietly between logan and george. his head snaps up at the yelp, wide and guilty eyes meeting hers. “i told you to stop meddling with my love life!”
“what?” oscar screams back, dropping his menu. “i was dragged here against my will!”
“i don’t believe you!”
“max!” oscar looks at max, then points at the furious girl as he awaits his explanation.
max stares at him for a second too long, and a giggle erupts from his throat. “right! right… we forced him here. he did not want another bruise, he said.”
“good,” she scolds, turning on her heel. “we’re leaving.”
“but we just got here!” lando squeaks. he cowers into his seat when she turns back around to glare at him, giving him flashbacks to a time when his mother would use it on him. “i mean, enjoy your time and don’t get too tired. it’s race day tomorrow.”
oscar doesn’t bother looking at her again. “see you tomorrow, loser.”
“where are you going?” george asks, a mischevious grin on his face to challenge her. “back to the hotel for some fun time?”
“a walk,” she sighs, dropping her head. she leans on the table. “my heels are killing me.”
“oh, i’ve got you,” sebastian mutters, disappearing underneath the table. out of his bag is a pair of doll shoes, the ones that she keeps in the garage when her time in the race car is over. “i saw these lying around aimlessly and thought i should keep them for you before it gets too dirty.”
she glares at him, hesitantly taking the shoes into her hand. “you took these from my room, didn’t you?”
sebastian shrugs. “you don’t wear heels very often, kid.”
“give me recommendations for date places,” logan smiles. “maybe next time i’ll have a girl out here with me. like you with jacob elordi.”
her mood changes back to what it was before: a mixture of irritation and not one of amusement. “i will kill you guys tomorrow. my date is waiting for me outside.”
oscar waves her towards the door. “i trust you’ll text logan and i about this later.”
“hey, i want in!” lando adds on, completely ignoring the girl walking away to the door.
“dude, this is seriously none of our business.”
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taglist: @wcnorris @treehouse-mouse @laura-naruto-fan1998 @mindless-rock @inejismywife
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javierpena-inatacvest · 4 months
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Agent Peña
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Summary: You and Javi are unpacking as you move into your new house, when you come across something unusual in one of the boxes. Surprise, it's Javi's old tac vest, and boy, do you need to show him how good he still looks in it.
Word Count: 5.3K (I'm surprised it's not longer, I could write a thesis about this vest)
Pairing: Husband!Javier Peña x Wife!reader (no used of y/n, reader's nickname is Osita)
Warnings: SMUT (18+) BOY OH BOY- unprotected p in v sex (be better pls), oral (m receiving), face fucking, mastrubation (f), big ole praise kink, creampie, cum play (ig??), soft dom!Javi (still being our consent king as always), Javi lifts reader up on the dresser and holds her hair, Javi's got a FILTHY mouth, THE VEST STAYS ON LADIES AND GENTS (gn)
A/N: ....Well.... Here we are. This idea has been rotting in the back of my brain for SO long, and I am finally ready to serve my time in horny jail 🫡 As y'all know, Javi's tac vest is deeply important to me, and it only feels right to support my namesake as such by sharing my deeply dirty thoughts of getting absolutely obliterated by this man in that stupid fucking vest. If you know me, no you DON'T, please do not make eye contact with me for the next 7-10 business days. 🤪
This can be read as a stand alone, or as a part of the It's Never Too Late Series!!
“Are you sure this is the last box?” 
“Yes, Hermosa, I’m positive.”
“Well, that was your answer 3 boxes ago, Jav.” 
You laughed to yourself, hauling what was supposedly the last cardboard box out of the back of Javi’s truck as you followed behind him into your new house. Your official move in day had finally come, and while you and Javi had been periodically transporting things from your apartment to the new house since it had been finished with construction, today was the last day on your lease, and the first day of your forever in your new home together. While you couldn't have been more excited to finally be in a real home of your own with Javi, you were much less excited about the 47 trips you had made in and out of the house, hauling boxes to and from Javi’s truck, and unpacking your entire existence into your new living space. 
You let out a little grunt as you set down the box into the mountain-like pile that had accumulated in your living room, Javi sneaking up behind you and wrapping his arms around your waist as he planted a soft kiss on your shoulder. 
“You promise this was the last one?” You giggled, your voice oozing with sarcasm as you gave Javi a playful nudge while he held you in his grasp. 
“Promise.” He laughed, giving you a squeeze, only making you squeal and squirm even more. “Hopefully unpacking shouldn’t take too long, I’ll start moving the heavier shit upstairs and in the garage, and I’ll come help you down here when I’m done.” 
“What, are you saying I'm not strong enough to carry the heavy boxes? Rude.” You teased, spinning around to face him, crossing your arms over your chest, one eyebrow raised. 
“You know that’s not what I’m trying to say, you dork.” Javi sighed, rolling his eyes at your utter lack of seriousness in response to his comment. 
“I don’t know… Sure seems like it to me… I just don’t think that- HEY! PUT ME DOWN! STOP, STOP, YOU MEANIE!” You screeched, flapping your arms in hysterical laughter as Javi slung you over his shoulder, trapping you in the only way he’d figured out how to get you to stop with your never ending sass- tickling you until you were close to tears. “Fine, I- Javi! Stop! You win! You win! Let me go, you butt!” 
“Did you just call me a butt?” He snorted, setting you back down on the ground, smirking at the goofy grin on your face as you tried to recompose yourself, post tickle torture. 
“I would have come up with a better insult if I wasn’t close to almost peeing my pants.” You grumbled, sticking your tongue out at Javi, the two of you trying your best to keep from bursting into laughter again. 
“Will you just go start unpacking, weirdo? The sooner we’re done, the sooner we can go break in the new bed.” He smirked, biting down on his lip, his eyes looking you up and down with a mischievous sparkle. 
“Oooorrrrrr… We could just go break it in now and unpack later?” You shrugged, placing your hands on Javi’s chest, grabbing a fist full of the soft cotton of his worn t-shirt as you pressed up on your tiptoes and placed a kiss on his pouty lip. 
“As much as I want to,” He paused, pressing his lips back into yours, feeling the smile of his smug grin, “If we go now, there’s no way all of this is ever getting unpacked.” 
“Ugh, fine. You win again, Mr. Reasonable.” You frowned, giving him one last quick kiss before pulling away to search through the endless sea of cardboard to sort where each box needed to go. You reached down, hoisting up one labeled “bedroom” and resting it on your hip, pointing to the scratchy scribbles of Javi’s handwriting. “Look! I’m already going to the bedroom, soooooo…” 
“Osita…”   
“Fine, fine. You better move those boxes fast. Rude to keep your wife waiting like this, ya know.” 
“Will you please just go unpack, Hermosa?” He sighed, laughing and shaking his head, hiking up two boxes, heavy enough to make his biceps flex and the veins in his forearms incredibly noticeable. You could almost hear yourself audibly gulp as you watched him walk up the stairs, the muscles of his back flexing and straining deliciously against the gray cotton of his t-shirt. 
“Jesus fucking Christ…” You muttered to yourself, in awe of your husband’s sheer broadness. So in awe, in fact, that you hadn’t even realized you had let your box slip from its place resting against your hip onto the living room floor, making you jump and startle yourself, scrambling to try and pick it back up in hopes that Javi hadn’t noticed. 
“You okay, baby?” Javi shouted from halfway up the stairs, peeking his head over the railing to see what had happened. 
“Yup, yup, totallyyyyy fine, all good, just going to unpack, nothing to see here.” You mumbled, darting down the hallway, eyes peeled in whatever direction was the exact opposite of Javi. 
Oof. You better find a way to become the world’s fastest unpacker. 
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Thankfully, you and Javi seemed to make an unspoken pact to unpack in separate parts of the house to avoid distracting each other, Javi now working on organizing things in the garage while you worked on sorting all of the things that belonged in your master bedroom. Clothes and sheets had been easy to put away compared to all of the pots and pans you had unboxed in the kitchen before this, working your best to put things away as fast as you could with keeping the metal clashing and clanging to a minimum.
 As you dragged the last box labeled “Master Bedroom” into your room from the hallway, you were curious what kind of contents could be inside, considering you’d put away all of yours and Javi’s clothes, and whatever bedding belonged in your room. You spun the box around to each side, looking for any more clues, until your last turn, where you found “Javi DEA” printed on the upper corner. 
You paused for a moment, letting your fingers drum across the tattered cardboard, questioning whether or not you should leave it for Javi to deal with, or open it up for yourself. You gently chewed on your bottom lip as you internally debated, trying to rationalize with yourself before quite literally opening up a box into Javi’s past.
You had heard about the good, bad and ugly that had been Javi’s life in Colombia before returning home to Laredo, so you would be shocked to find something in this box that Javi really didn’t want you to see. 
It’s not like there was anything he’d be trying to hide from you in there, right? Probably just a bunch of badges and paperwork, anyways. 
With a little sigh and a shrug, you carefully ripped down the seam of the tape holding the box together, slowly lifting the cardboard flaps to reveal the contents inside. As you peeked into the box, you let out a little huff of relief to find out that your suspicions were correct- nothing but file folders, old badges and ancient coffee mugs with DEA symbols slapped across the front. 
You began making your way through the box, sorting its contents into piles for Javi to go through once he was finished in the garage. Even though majority of the items inside the DEA box were less than thrilling (unless you had a thing for reading 50 page long contracts full of legal jargon), you did get a kick out of Javi’s old badges, giggling at his grumpy frown that seemed to be plastered across his face in every picture he took from the time he started, until he retired. What cracked you up even more was finding the badges from the first few years Javi must have started working for the DEA, still sporting his signature pout, but with a clean shaven baby face you had only had the pleasure of seeing from the photo albums of Javi's youth that his father, Chucho, had so lovingly offered to share with you.
You gave the picture a sweet smile before setting it down with the rest of the badges in the growing pile, mindlessly reaching back into the box to pull out what you assumed would be more file folders full of paperwork. Except this time, you felt your fingertips graze against what felt like tough and worn fabric, dragging your hand further along the cloth until hitting a patch of scratchy velcro, making you cock your head in confusion. You scooted yourself over closer to the box, peering under the few manilla folders left inside to spot an army green strap popping out from in between them. 
Now very much intrigued, you dug your hand between the sea of papers, yanking on the mystery item to reveal a deep olive green vest, followed by a few crinkled pictures that must have been stuck inside it, gently fluttering to the floor in front of you. You set down the much heavier than expected vest to pick up one of the photos face down on the carpet, only to turn it over and feel your jaw practically drop to the floor and eyes bulge out of your skull. Because in that picture, was not just any photo of Javi from his time in Colombia, this was a photo of Javi, in the very vest that you had dug out from the bottom of his box. 
And holy fuck did he look hot. 
Frantically, you picked up another photo that had fallen to the floor, feeling your heart legitimately skip a beat to find it was another shot of him in the vest, his dark curls sticking to his forehead from the sweat soaking his skin and the light blue button down underneath it, hands resting on the hips of his dark gray khaki pants that left very little to the imagination. You flipped over one last picture, only to find the same, breathtaking visual of him in that damn vest, his biceps straining against the sweat-stained cotton of his army green shirt, the veins in his forearms prominently on display as he held the gun he was carrying pointed at the ground. 
While you had never seen these photos, or even known about this mystery vest until today, there was a part of you that was glad you hadn’t- the way Javi looked suited up in that vest had your head reeling in a way you weren’t sure you’d ever recover from, because Jesus Fucking Christ, it was the hottest goddamn thing you’d ever seen. 
Your eyes darted back and forth between the three photos, each picture somehow looking better than the last every time you found a new detail to drink in that made Javi look even more delicious.
Holy fuck.
You couldn’t help but let your mind wander even further than it already was, picturing what Javi would look like with it on now, the broadness of his shoulders filling out the vest even more than he would have the last time he wore it. 
You were so entranced, so lost in ogling at how attractive Javi looked in the vest, that you hadn’t noticed the sound his familiar footsteps trudging down the hallway, stopping in the doorway of your bedroom and watching you as you sat cross legged on the floor, hunched over the now nearly empty box. 
“Hey, Hermosa, I’m almost all done in the garage if you wanna-” Javi’s voice quietly trailed off as his eyes wandered, looking at the items from inside the box spread across the floor, stopping at the long forgotten sight of his old tac vest propped up against the cardboard.
He couldn’t help but quietly laugh to himself, simply out of shock that you had even found the vest in the first place, considering he hadn’t even remembered it had been living inside a box that hadn’t been touched since it was shipped back to Laredo with the rest of his things post DEA.
“Where the hell’d you find this? I haven’t seen this thing in fucking years.” He chuckled, reaching down to pick up the well worn armor, letting his thumb run along the seams of the rough fabric as he held it up in front of him, blocking your blushing and bright red face from his view. 
“It was uh- it was at the bottom of the box.” You gulped, trying not to stumble over your words, biting down on your tongue to try and keep your embarrassingly sheepish smirk at bay, Javi’s eyes now meeting yours as he lowered the vest from his view. He tilted his head in confusion at your clearly flustered state, reaching out his free hand to gently grab your arm, rubbing his thumb back and forth across your skin, his touch only making you more riled up. 
“Hermosa, are you okay?” 
“Yeah I’m- yes, I’m- I’m fine, it’s stupid.” You muttered, making no attempts to cover up your clearly blatant lie, darting your eyes away from Javi and shifting your gaze to the floor to try and hide your hot, flushed face, embarrassed that you were this worked up from 3 old photos and a piece of police gear.
But unfortunately for you, Javi knew you like the back of his hand, and knew all too well when you weren’t telling him something that was on your mind. 
Letting his hand slide up your arm and across your collarbone, he stopped at your chin, forcing your gaze back on him, giving you a smug shrug and raise of his eyebrows, silently waiting for your real response, the one he knew you were hiding behind your bashful facade. 
“What’s going on, baby?” 
With your eyes locked on his, thumb resting under your jaw, you had no choice but to swallow your own pride, the sweet dark brown of his glare coaxing your sheepish secret right out of you. 
“There were- there were pictures of you in the vest in the box. You look- Jesus, Javi, you look really fucking hot.” 
“That’s it?” He laughed, softly swiping his thumb across your cheek, still feeling like he hadn’t quite gotten everything out of you. 
“Well I was thinking... that uh- if- what-” 
“What, baby? Talk to me, it’s okay.” 
Oh, fuck me. 
“Would you, um, would- would you put it on?” 
“Put it on?” He chuckled, lifting up the vest, gesturing towards it. 
“Mhhmmmm.” You nodded, letting your tongue run against your teeth before biting down on your bottom lip, feeling a rush of heat rapidly creeping through your body. 
“Like, right now?” 
“Like, right now.” 
Realizing that you were completely serious about your request, Javi let out a playful scoff, running his hand over the back of his neck, almost as flustered by your ask as you were at the thought alone of seeing him in his vest. 
“Really? I mean, uh- yeah, okay.” Working in a quick and determined silence, Javi began slipping the vest over his head, pulling it over his broad shoulders and unfastening the velcro sides before readjusting them, tugging the flaps tighter against his stomach to hold them in place, quietly grumbling to himself. “Used to be able to pull these a lot tighter…” He groaned, flattening the last strap against the velcro.
As his focused shifted from his vest to you, he couldn’t help but smirk at the dumbfounded look on your face- the image in front of you leaving you so completely stunned, you felt like you needed to wipe the corner of your mouth to make sure that there wasn’t any drool coming out of it. Your brain was so short circuited, at a loss to form any sort of coherent sentence, the best you could muster out was a low, shaky, “Holy fucking shit.” 
“Didn’t know you had a thing for tactical vests.” Javi grinned with a devilish look slowing spreading across his face, seeing the complete and utter mess you were becoming as he slowly stepped towards you, the looming image of his broad body in that fucking vest making your heart race and your palms sweat. 
“Well, I- I didn’t, um, I didn’t-” You stammered, your breath trembling as you tried to respond, your brain going blank as you watched Javi approach you. Before you had a chance to even try to and concoct some sort of answer, Javi’s hand was back under your chin, fingers wrapped around your jaw with a much tighter and demanding presence than just a few moments ago, sensing the undeniable shift of palpable tension in the room. 
“Didn’t what? Use your words, sweet girl.” He rasped, teasing you with his knowingly smug smirk, his words shooting straight to your core, making your stomach flip in anxious arousal. 
You could feel your words bobbing in your throat as you swallowed, your tongue darting out of your parted mouth, desperate to taste Javi’s lips now barely ghosting yours, patiently waiting for your response, relishing in the needy mess he could sense you were quickly becoming. 
“Didn’t realize it until I saw you in it. You look- fuck- you look so hot.” You whispered, feeling his warm breath against your skin as he sucked at your pulse point, his teeth nipping at your neck as a ragged moan escaped your mouth. “Javi…” 
“Not gonna give you what you want 'till you tell me. I wanna hear you say it. Tell me what you want.” You could practically feel his satisfied smirk as his kisses worked their way down your neck towards your chest, each press of his lips taunting you, only making it harder and harder for any part of your brain to function. 
“I wanna- fuck- I wanna suck your dick. Fuck, I need to taste you.” You whimpered, reaching out to run your hand across his vest, letting it trail from his chest, down to his stomach, your fingertips grazing his belt buckle before a firm grasp wrapped around your wrist, holding your hand in place and stopping it from traveling any further. 
“Nuh-uh.” Javi tutted, rasping in your ear. “Be a good girl and ask first. Tell me how badly you need it.”  
“Please, Javi. Fuck, please let me suck your dick, baby. Please.” You moaned, sounding more desperate than you had intended, but fuck, there was nothing you wanted to do more than drop to your knees and worship him in the most sinful way you could.  
“Jesus, you’re so fucking pretty when you beg for it. You need me that bad, Hermosa?” Javi grinned, feeling you nod your head frantically, the hand he was holding in his grasp reaching for below his belt. “Okay, baby, show me how bad you need me, huh?” 
In an instant, you were dragging your hands down his vest, sinking to the ground as you frantically worked to undo his belt buckle, the quiet clang of the metal singing a song of sweet relief as you shuffled his pants down his legs before hooking your fingers around the elastic waistband of his boxers, tugging them down to meet his pants. pooling around his ankles. His cock sprung free as it was released, already painfully hard and weeping with precum as it slapped against his stomach, the sight alone making you lick your lips. You kissed the inside of his thighs, trailing your way up to his shaft in long, languid movements, dragging your tongue back and forth along the underside of his cock before sinking just his tip between your lips, swirling it in your mouth. 
You had barely touched him, but you were already so worked up that what had started as just a wet patch in your underwear had now turned into the fabric becoming completely soaked in your slick, leaving your cunt aching and throbbing. With your mouth still sucking and flicking at his tip, you couldn’t help but let your hand snake down your front, sneaking between your skin and the waistband of your pants as it dipped into your underwear. You let your fingers slide through your folds, before sinking them into your heat, your hips instinctively grinding down on your hand to find any sort of temporary relief as you fucked yourself with your fingers. 
Looking up at him with batted lashes, you sunk your mouth deeper down on his length, hollowing your cheeks as you took him inch by inch, watching his eyes go wide as you took the hand that had just been inside your pants back out to reveal the shiny slick covering your fingers, then wrapping them around his base, covering his shaft in your arousal. 
It was taking everything in him just to say fuck it right then and there, to toss you onto the bed and fuck you until you were begging him to stop, but watching the way you worked around his cock so needily had him so stunned, he couldn’t bring himself to do anything but let you work your magic. 
“Jesus, fuck…” Javi muttered to himself, already feeling his balls beginning to tighten as your head bobbed along his dick, sinking down just enough to let the deep, musky scent of the curls at the base of his shaft tickle your nostrils. 
It wasn’t long before his hand was buried deep in your hair, his fingers cradling the back of your head as his hips began to buck towards your face, trying to hold himself back from full-on fucking your throat, until your fingers wrapped around the back of his thighs, bracing yourself as you gave Javi your silent nod of approval to keep going. Letting a low groan rumble in his chest, his second hand met the one already palming the back of your head, guiding you up and down his cock as he thrust deeper into your throat, tears welling in your eyes and saliva spilling out the corners of your mouth. His tip brushed against your gag reflex, making you dig your fingertips further and further into his skin. 
“Oh fuck- this what you wanted, Quierda? To get on your knees and let me- shit, shit, shit- fuck that pretty little mouth of yours like the good girl you are?” Javi hissed through gritted teeth, trying to keep himself together as he watched his length slide in and out of your mouth, tempted to let himself go and spill deep down your throat, watching his spend drip down your lips. But he knew he’d be kicking himself if he wasn’t finishing buried in the depths of your cunt, your warm, wet walls milking him of every last drop, clenching around him as you came. 
That was enough to pull him back to his senses, guiding his dick out of your mouth, the two of you catching your breath as you wiped your hand with the back of your mouth in confusion, wondering what had made him back off so quickly. 
“Javi, are you okay? Did I do something wr-oh!” You gasped, stumbling as Javi forcefully pulled you to your feet, manhandling you towards your dresser, your mouths becoming a mess of tangled tongues and teeth as your back bumped against the wooden edge. Javi’s hands were under your legs, grabbing you and hosting you up to sit on top of it, ripping your pants and underwear down off your hips and tossing them to the floor. 
“I need to be inside you. Fuck, I need to feel you when I fuck you full of me.” He mewled, reaching down to stroke himself as he lined his dick up with your entrance, running his tip through your folds, coating it even more in your slick before sinking himself deep into your pussy, flushing his hips against you as his cock bumped against your cervix. Even though you were already soaking wet, you couldn’t help but whimper at the sweet sting of how full Javi’s stretch made you feel, gripping around the shoulder straps of his tac vest for dear life as he began to thrust in and out of you, already setting a punishing, desperate pace. 
You wrapped your legs around the small of his back just under his vest, whimpering and moaning into his shoulder as your buried your face in the crook of his neck the lewd noises of muted moans and slapping skin filling the room as Javi punched into you, his cock splitting you open in the best way possible. 
“Javi, oh fuck baby, fuck, you feel so good, oh shit-”  You whined, your brain going blank, babbling between moans, already feeling a tingle beginning to build at the base of your spine while Javi’s hands gripped around your hips, holding you in place as he fucked into you hard and deep. Your cunt was starting to clench around his cock, pounding into that sweet spot inside you that had you seeing stars and screaming his name as you could feel yourself coming undone around him. 
Rutting your hips against him, the hairs at his base rubbed your clit, the friction giving you just enough stimulation to send you over the edge, your orgasm crashing through you with a ferocious intensity, flooding every inch of your body with pleasure. 
“That’s it. Give it to me, Hermosa. Fuck- cum all over me baby girl.” Javi hissed through gritted teeth, his words humming deep in his throat as he fucked you through your high, his hands holding you in place as you melted into him, your body going limp as you came. “You gonna give me another one, Querida? Be a good girl and give me one more before I fuck you so full of me, I’ll be dripping out of you for days.” 
You were so lost in your pleasure, you couldn’t find any words, simply nodding your head as you moaned into his neck, only starting to come to when you suddenly felt an emptiness in your cunt, Javi pulling out to scoot you off the dresser, guiding your feet to the floor as he turned you over, splaying your chest across the wooden surface and pinning your arms behind your back. Gently nudging your feet wider, you could feel his broad body looming over yours, his hot breath dancing across your neck as he nibbled at your ear. 
“You still okay, Osita?” 
“Mhmmmm” You whimpered, your body trembling as Javi’s hands ran across your hips, feeling his hard length pressed against your ass, wiggling your bottom half against him, desperate for him to ease the emptiness between your legs again. 
“Lemme hear you say it, baby. Tell me how bad you need it.” Javi grunted, now dragging his cock through your folds, teasing your dripping entrance, waiting painfully patiently for your response. 
“I need it so bad, Javi, please, please baby.” You moaned, rolling your hips and pushing your ass back on him, doing anything to try and feel him inside you again. 
“My needy girl. Shhhhh, it’s okay baby, I’ve got you.” Javi smirked, flushing his hips against your ass as he bottomed out inside you, the fullness making you cry out in pleasure.
He slowly began thrusting in and out of you, dragging his cock along your heat, each stroke punching against your g-spot, so wet that you could hear each rut of his hips as he buried himself deeper and deeper into your hilt. 
You were so blissed out, barely hanging by a thread as you felt heat beginning to bloom in your belly once again, that you were resting your head against the dresser, closing your eyes as you felt yourself coming undone. That was until Javi’s firm grasp shifted from pinning your hands behind your back to sliding up your neck, resting his hand under your jaw and forcing your gaze into the mirror on top of your dresser. 
Your eyes locked with Javi’s, the reflection of him in his vest towering behind you as he thrusted into you over and over, watching the brown pools of his eyes darken with lust as he watched you slowly begin to come undone under him. 
“Eyes on me, baby. Wanna see that pretty face when you cum all over me.” 
The image of him was all consuming- His wide shoulders spilling from the sides of the vest, his dark, damp curls sticking to his forehead from the sheen of his sweat that had begun to pool in his brow, the wrecked look painted across his face making you weaker and weaker as you could feel the heat creeping up your legs and through your core. 
Reaching back, you grabbed on to the side of his vest, burying your fingers into the thick fabric for dear life as his pace began to quicken, his thrusts becoming faster and sloppier with each snaps of his hips as he felt your pussy fluttering around his length, watching you turn into a puddle below him. 
“I know you’re close, baby. C’mon Hermosa, oh shit- give it to me.” Javi grunted, letting his hand drop from your jaw to snake down your body, the pads of his fingers circling your clit with just enough force to have you screaming his name, clenching your cunt around his cock as you came. 
“Javi, Javi, oh fuck, fuck, fuck-” You babbled, your eyes practically rolling in the back of your head as Javi began to follow suit, rambling incoherently, chasing his own high. 
“I know, baby, I know. Such a good fucking girl, taking me so well. Fuck, oh shit- I’m close, too. Oh, fuck me- Jesus Christ, I’m gonna-ahhhhhh-” With only a few more thrusts, Javi was spilling inside you, his spend pulsing against your walls as he milked himself of every drop he had, his body slumping over yours as your chests rose and fell in sync, trying to catch your breath. 
Your legs trembled as the warm mix of your spend trailed down your thighs, only to be caught by his fingers, slowly dragging your combined arousal back up your skin before taking it and pushing it back into your entrance, languidly pulsing his digits in and out of your dripping hole, making a ragged moan fall from your lips as he nipped at your neck, softly sucking at your pulse point. 
“Gonna keep you full of me all night, sweet girl, all fucking night.” 
“Holy fuck…” You whined, finally catching your breath enough to speak before pushing yourself back up to stand, turning around to grab Javi’s face, pulling him in for an electric, passionate kiss before letting your hands rest on the worn army green of his vest, quietly laughing to yourself in disbelief. “Jesus fucking Christ, Javi.” 
“You okay, Osita? Sorry if I got carried away, I just- fuck, seeing how worked up you were, I-” 
“Javier Jesús Peña, you better not be apologizing to me for being the hottest fucking thing I’ve ever seen in that goddamn vest. I swear to God, I’m never letting you take that thing off. Well… On second thought, if you don’t take it off I don’t think I will ever be productive ever again because holy shit.” 
The two of you couldn’t help but laugh to yourselves as Javi wrapped his arms around your waist, his thumbs tracing soft circles against the bare skin of your hips, looking out at the scattered sea of pants and underwear on the floor that had been quickly left behind during your horny antics. 
“Well, if you let me take it off,” Javi grinned, pressing a chast kiss on your cheek and then peppering them towards your lips, “then we can go take a shower to clean up,” he paused again, feeling his smile against your mouth, “we can go break in the bed, and I can return your little favor from earlier since someone was too eager to get dicked down to let me.” 
“Oh, shut up, can you blame me? Don’t have to ask me twice.” You giggled, raising a playful eyebrow at Javi. “Just promise me one thing, okay?” 
“Of course, Hermosa. Anything.” 
“Don’t you ever get rid of that fucking vest, Agent Peña.” 
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personasintro · 4 months
Text
A part of Mutual Help series!
pairing: mh!jungkook x reader
warnings: explicit language, Kiko is mentioned (this deserves it's own warning)
genre: fluff
word count: 1.8k+
a/n: Merry Christmas! ♡
Mutual Help Series
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“Oooh, what could be in here?” Taehyung muses, pursing his reddened lips that has gotten its own intense color thanks to the cold weather outside. 
What was he doing outside when you've been at this place for around an hour? Flirting, of course. 
“Knowing you, probably tons of condoms.” you answer, causing Taehyung to stop shaking the present he's just gotten from Jimin. It stops rattling under his grip as he shoots you a glare across the table. 
Unfazed, you reach with your chopsticks for a piece of meat before you put it in your mouth. Next to you, Jungkook cackles under his breath and Jimin looks proud by your little comment. 
“Well, miss I-don't-need-anyone, we all like to have our fun. Maybe you should try it.” Taehyung bites back. Though his tone sounds serious and deep with his thick accent, there's a glimmer of amusement in his eyes. 
You know how far you can take it to joke with each of your friends. Taehyung's got a thick skin and there's only so little you could actually say to offend him. Not that you would ever want to. Taehyung loves jokes and fun, he loves teasing and most of the time he's the one who takes it too far but never to actually cause a damage to your friendship. Whatever he says, you know should not be taken to heart literally. Therefore, no matter what he says about your single life – you don't take it as an insult. 
“Hooking up with a bunch of strangers? No thanks.”
He grins, “Maybe you should try it.”
“You offering?” you shoot right back, Jungkook choking on his soda as Jimin laughs out loud.
“You know what? Once you grow up a little, text me.”
You snort, “Stop acting as if I was a child.”
Taehyung shrugs, “No, but you're the baby of our group.”
Groaning, you frown. “Don't call me that.”
“Deny it all you want, Y/L/N but we all know the truth.”
“You guys scare almost every guy that looks at me. It beats the point of having fun.”
“Don't say shit like that, now! I'm all for you exploring and having fun.”
“Our point of fun is slightly different than hers, Tae.” Jimin comments, putting more meat to your plate as you thank him with a grateful smile. For the meat, of course. Although, he's not that off about the entire fun topic. 
“We all know what kind of fun we're talking about.”
“Alright, let's move on, yeah?” Jungkook calls, shaking his head at Taehyung.
“Here we go, protective Jungkook.”
“Why do you always somehow bring up sex in every conversation?” Jungkook scolds him.
Taehyung gasps, feigning offense as he points his finger at you. “First of all, she started talking about condoms!”
Jimin laughs out loud while you shoot him a glare for being too loud. God, you hope the owners won't kick you out. Talking so publicly about sex is often frowned upon. No one who wants to enjoy their meal wants to hear someone talking about sex from the other table. Unless those people are… open like Taehyung. He's always been a bit shameless. 
 Jungkook glances at you upon Taehyung's finger that's directed toward you. You shrug innocently. “So what? You automatically got into it.”
“You know it doesn't take too much for me.”
“That's true.” Jimin nods along with Taehyung's response. 
You laugh, “Just open the goddamn present, Tae.” 
He cracks a grin and starts laughing before he rips the package open. Surprisingly, it's not condoms – you would seriously laugh your ass out if it were – but it's a box of popular male fragrances in smaller versions. You recognize all of them, silently praising Jimin for this year's present. 
You all exchange presents for each other. There was an idea coming from Jimin, you think, last year to pick up a secret Santa for each year. But there's something special and thoughtful about buying everyone a gift. And it makes a slight burden to all your wallets, but nobody said the presents have to be expensive. Yet, they're always meaningful and nobody gives shitty presents here. 
You meet every year before Christmas since all of you spend it with your families. You've decided to make your own and celebrate it together, even if it's beforehand. This year it has to be because you're flying back home sooner than usual. 
They were kind enough to meet no matter what, said it wouldn't be the same if you weren't here. 
After that is done, Jungkook is the one to take you home since Taehyung came to pick you up. There's fog everywhere with snow sitting down and not melting anytime soon. You love when there's snow around Christmas time.
On your way home, it's not that late by the time you arrive. Jungkook helps you with your presents upstairs and accepts a cup of tea you offer him with a stern look. You're quick to shed the layers of clothes and make yourself more comfortable. You bring Jungkook his tea and make a hot chocolate for yourself.
“What you got in there?” you ask, plopping next to him as the warmth and scent of home hugs you. 
“A little something,” he says with a cheeky grin. 
Spotting the same Christmas wrapping paper he has used for all his presents, you give him a knowing look. You're about to protest and scold the shit out of him when he shakes his head with another grin. 
“Stop.”
“No, you stop!” you whine, “You already gave me your present.”
And it was great. Jungkook has given you two tickets to a water park that's located on Jeju Island. That alone tells you it wasn't quite cheap.
“It's not much, I swear.” 
“But why? We all decided on one present.” 
Grateful that he's so thoughtful, you're slightly annoyed that he broke the rule that perhaps never was so serious but it makes you feel bad. 
“Just because.”
“That's not a valid reason.”
“Sounds very valid to me,” he sings out, teasing you a little further as you both giggle. “You'll understand it once you open it.” he finishes it with that, urging you to open it.
Hiding the heat in your cheeks, you playfully roll your eyes and start unboxing the little box he has managed to sneak in his jacket. Curiosity and excitement takes over you because Jungkook's presents are always something else. You rip the package and gasp as soon as you recognize the familiar box.
“Kook!”
“You told me you ran out the other day.”
“Did you–”
“Bought it when Jimin bought Taehyung's present? Yeah.” He answers, already knows what you were about to ask. But you're too stunned to scold him for interrupting you.
You open the box and pull out your favorite perfume. A few weeks ago, you don't even know how that conversation came up but you mentioned to him that your perfume is running out indeed. It wasn't anything intentional of course, more of a whine when you were about to spray a tiny amount as you were about to go out. You thought he was barely listening to you, urging you to rush out your ass outside. His exact words. 
But he's always listening. 
“I think I'm gonna be more careful what I'm about to say in front of you. You're gonna buy me everything I mentioned.” you chuckle, taking a good inhale of your favorite flowery and powdery scent. You mostly use it during warm seasons but it's a good one even in the winter.
It's your staple scent. Everyone knows it. It's special. You were using it back at home and it not only smells incredible, it also holds a certain emotional attachment you have with it. 
“Don't worry about that, you're out of my budget.” 
You kick the side of his thigh as you cross your legs under your butt, carefully placing the bottle on the table next to the ripped wrapping paper. “I wanted to buy it after Christmas.” 
“You don't have to anymore.”
You give him a look, questioning his answer for everything as he simply justifies his thoughtfulness in the most basic manner. He always brushes it like it's nothing. But it's very special to you. He is. 
In seconds, you wrap your arms around him and hug him tightly. He lets out a surprised gasp, a low chuckle escaping his lips as he hugs you back. He's warm, smells like a mixture of his wooden cologne and winter air. 
“Thank you.” you mumble into his shoulder before you slowly pull away. “But seriously, you should stop spending so much money on me. Don't you have a girlfriend to spend money on?”
As far as you know, she's fine with it but who knows. Jungkook isn't the type to let anyone get into your or guys' friendships. But he's also in love and people in love tend to be slightly blind, if you must say so. Not that you speak from your own experiences but well, it's quite known. And Jungkook is definitely in love. 
“Don't worry about Kiko,” he assures you, “She'll get a good amount of presents too.”
“Well, I hope she loves you for you and not for your bank account.”
He scowls, causing you to give him a childish toothy grin that acts innocent. “She's not like that.”
“But I'm serious, you should stop spending so much money on people. Especially on me.”
“I spend my money however I want and you know what?” he asks with a grin, leaning closer to you as you watch him with wide eyes. “It's none of your business.” he flicks your nose with his thumb causing you to cuss him out as you push his forehead to get him away from your proximity. 
“So really, just accept it.”
“You're stubborn.”
“You're telling me?” he laughs out loud as if you just told him the biggest joke.
Rolling your eyes again, you purse your lips. “I wanted to be nice, you moron.”
“Be nice by just accepting it. And the simple thanks is just enough, not needed though. The hug was very nice.”
You slap his arm in a teasing manner which causes him to laugh even more. “I'll hug you for the rest of my life.”
“Promise?” he smirks. 
“I promise.” you giggle, nodding.
“Well, then Merry Christmas.” 
“Merry Christmas, Kook.” you smile, the warmth spreading all over your heart. Even though this year hasn't been all rainbow and sunshine, it's alright as long as you have these people right beside you. 
Who cares about presents? They're nice and show the thoughtfulness behind them by each of your friends. What you need the most is just them. And the special relationship you have with each of them will hopefully last your lifetime. Because if it doesn't, nothing will ever be the same. 
Without them you would feel lost. At the moment, you're anything but lost. You have your second family, hoping this tradition between you never dies and will continue years and years.
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chuluoyi · 4 months
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the birthday boy
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- fushiguro megumi x reader
your boyfriend is indifferent towards his own special day, but with you, he actually finds it worth celebrating
genre/warnings: fluff, fluff, fluff with a teeny weeny dash of angst
notes: loosely based on this fanart. pls just give my boi back gege you awful one-eyed cat how could you hold him hostage even on his birthday
listen to: sakura koi by mosawo don't mind me i just get all soft for this poor boy *sigh*
series masterlist | oneshot masterlist
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Megumi never really liked birthdays—his own birthdays, specifically.
"Come on, Megumi... just what is it that you want for your present?" you pleaded, pursing your lips together as you faced your boyfriend. "I don't want to give you a surprise only to find out it's not something you'd enjoy!"
However, ever since Gojo went and took him in, ever since he began attending Jujutsu High, and ever since he started dating you, to his chagrin, everyone started making a big fuss over it.
With the straightest face ever, he glanced at you and muttered, "I'm telling you, you can get me whatever."
"That's not an answer!"
"Seriously, you can pick anything. I'm good with anything."
You huffed in exasperation. "You're so unbelievably uncooperative, sheesh."
"On the contrary, I think I'm being quite amiable," he deadpanned. "You don't have to think about it that hard."
In a way, you should've expected this. Your boyfriend was never one who made a big deal over anything, and he probably meant it when he said that he was good with whatever. Your soft boy was just wired that way.
Meanwhile, to Megumi, his birthday was more of a remainder of good old days he spent with his kind sister and Gojo—when times were much more simpler. When Tsumiki was still alive and well. Call him an emo, but he was just feeling bittersweet.
Tsumiki would craft him this makeshift party hat, and Gojo would get him an overly sweet birthday cake with an even more over-the-top frostings. They'd join in singing him happy birthday, and Gojo's singing would be intentionally and especially awful while at it.
But now that he thought back to it, he kind of missed those times.
You threw him a narrowed-eyed look. "Forget it, I half-expected this anyway—" but then, suddenly struck by an idea, you exclaimed, "—oh! Wait, I know!"
Your enthusiastic exclamation caught his attention, and he silently observed as you furiously tapped away on your phone, scouring Google for standard gift ideas for boyfriends.
For the next half-hour, you continuously sought his feedback on each of suggestions. However, Megumi only nodded or agreed with evident disinterest, which didn't really answer your question at all.
“You’re seriously going to be like this, huh?” you sighed, frowning in total indignation, but in your boyfriend’s eyes, you were the height of absolute cuteness.
As you grumbled inwardly about how dull he was, Megumi wore a small smile. Truthfully, if asked, his ideal birthday would revolve around spending time with you. You didn't have to lose your head over this.
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Needless to say, you were still trying to make it an event to remember. And Megumi knew, because you were so obvious it was giving him secondhand embarrassment.
"Itadori! I'm telling you—" you were rebuking a sheepish Yuji on broad daylight regarding which color for balloons to be placed in the class on the day of his birthday. Earlier, he saw you and Nobara huddled together, talking about cakes and pastries, then also animatedly discussing with Inumaki, Panda and Maki, pulling out all the stops for a celebration plan without missing a beat.
Megumi could only facepalm at your attempt to maintain secrecy—in which you were failing miserably, almost as if you hadn't really made an effort at all.
"Isn’t it nice, Megumi?" suddenly Gojo slid beside him, with a stupid grin on his face. "Someone who exclusively goes this far for you, hmm?"
"It's embarrassing..."
"Ha! Don't be shy," Gojo barked, leaving him with a friendly pat in the back before stalking away with a snicker, and Megumi wasn't the least bit amused. He was certain that at least, Yuji and Nobara would tease the heck out of him after all was said and done due to your antics.
Even so, he didn't have the heart to stop you, appreciating your well-meaning efforts. He felt somewhat soft too inside, as he didn't expect that there would be someone who cared about this way too much like you did. Just it felt strange—
—because last he remembered, the only person who was hellbent on making his birthday a nice memory was Tsumiki.
. . .
So you were organizing a surprise party for him alongside others. Megumi already knew that, he had anticipated it and frankly, he didn’t actually expect much, but when he actually stepped into the classroom and was greeted with a literal bang, confetti, colorful banners, balloons, and a crowd of well-wishers, he was floored.
“Fushiguro! Happy birthday!”
“Look happier a little, would you?!”
“Look! Look! We got you a cake!”
Yuji and Panda almost hugged him—but before he could, Megumi shoved them away, Nobara handed him a paper bag tied with a pretty bow with a cool smile—believing her gift to be the best, Inumaki gave his hand a shake, and Maki wished him only the best.
All of this was within his expectations. He knows, and yet…
"Hey, Megumi! Smile!" your voice stood out the most, along with your widest smile, beaming and gesturing towards the camera as you were about to take a group picture.
Megumi swore his heart skipped a beat. His pretty, sweet girlfriend. Your affections reached him, and it dampened the hardness that he always carried inside his heart. In that fleeting moment, he felt you were radiant, just like the sun.
Then he turned his gaze and found the person he knew he could never thank enough in this lifetime. Gojo, for the first time in a while, wasn't the clown he made himself to be for his sake. Standing with crossed arms, he quietly watched over him, nodding towards the camera as well with a meaningful smile.
Megumi felt warm, he felt loved, and he wouldn’t admit it, but this might be the best day of his life—surrounded by you and his friends like this. And he actually felt more than just that, but no words could do it justice, because nothing could have ever captured the overwhelming fullness inside his chest.
Tsumiki... You see... I'm doing well, you know?
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Later, after all festivities are done, you managed to pull him into a secluded corner of the dorms to give him your one-of-a-kind gift, while fidgeting nervously.
"What is it?" he questioned, gaze squarely fixed on you. "At this point, there's no need for you to be this nervous. Nothing could've surprised me any more than Panda's giant panda earlier."
You laughed, recalling how he nearly got squashed by the life-sized stuffed panda earlier, but then you averted your gaze, feeling your face flush and turning into the cutest shade of pink.
"Well! To be fair, it was because you were so uncooperative when I asked what you wanted for your gift! And since I have gotten you the cake, I figured it'll be fun if you want to play this game..."
You huffed, and Megumi simply blinked in confusion when you handed him five pieces of papers—tickets? He turned them over to find the words "Free Pass" written on each one.
"Sooo you can use each ticket to ask me to do anything! Anything at all, be it me dancing to the worst song you can think of, or whatever!" your cheeks were burning so hard, but your resolute gaze kept him captivated as you continued, "So yeah, you get five free passes to make me do things I wouldn't normally do."
Lips pursed, eyes sparkling, cheeks ablaze. All in all, you were irresistibly adorable that Megumi had this overwhelming urge to scoop you up and put you inside his pocket if he could.
And really, free passes? Did you not consider the numerous exploitable loopholes he could subject you to?
"Okay, here, I want to use my first ticket."
"Huh! Already? What is it?"
He chuckled then, his lips tugging into the warmest of smiles, and you felt your heart soar, seeing that rare carefree expression on him.
"I want to kiss you."
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cheesiedomino · 2 months
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RentABoyfriend.com ꙳ ੭ * ‧
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synopsis: you’re tired of being single so you to take an unusual route in helping with that— but what happens when you start catching real romantic feelings for your rental boyfriend?
genre: seo changbin x fem!reader | fake relationship/dating au wc: 5.1k tags/warnings: fluff, v minor angst, mild cursing, (kinda) nerdy changbin, use of pet names, mentions of alcohol usage, just overall very cute story dw <33
[this is part of my valentine’s series where i write a short story for each member surrounding themes of love, newfound romance, relationship hardships & more.]
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“I have a date tomorrow guys.”
Everyone’s head instantly lifts up from their phones at this sudden announcement, collectively drawing their attention at you. You weren’t expecting all of them to gasp and swap such looks of genuine confusion. It’s starting to make you think maybe this situation was a lot more serious than you’ve bargained it out to be.
You couldn’t fathom it either honestly, the realization of you going out with someone probably won’t settle in until you’re physically on the date. Based on their initial responses though, you might regret everything you’re about to say, but it’s far too late to retract any of your statements now.
“No way.. with who??” Danielle is the first out of everyone to ask.
Taehyung chimes in as well, “Yeah, who’s the lucky person? They’ve gotta be something seriously special to be talking to you.”
Well, you suppose you could put it that way.
You already have a preconceived notion of what they’re going to think of this “idea”. Mentally preparing yourself to receive a flood of questions and critique from your close friends.
“Actually… I rented him. For the week.”
Now they’re all looking at you like you’ve officially lost it. The room got scarily quiet, no one wanted to be the first to speak. You should’ve anticipated on their reactions being like this, it isn’t everyday someone just openly admits to buying a partner online. Nowadays there’s a lucrative market for just about anything, when you stumbled upon an ad for this service called ‘RentABoyfriend.com’ you didn’t think much of it. You laughed the concept off at first, thinking how lonely people must be to buy someone else’s time.
But the ads kept popping up, they wouldn’t stop showing in almost every YouTube video you were watching— even one of your favorite YouTubers promoted them before! So one day you finally decided to check this website out, you wanted to see what the hype’s all about so you signed up just for shits and giggles. You weren’t expecting to actually be somewhat interested in trying this thing out, but after going through a couple different profiles and reading hundreds of positive reviews you were practically sold.
“You rented out a boyfriend..? Seriously ___? I mean, I’m not judging but you’re a gorgeous girl you can easily get a boyfriend without paying for someone’s companionship, I don’t see why you need to rent one.” Mark bluntly expressed his opinion, he was probably the most outspoken out of all of you guys.
Taehyung and Danielle both agreed in unison, it’s practically 3 against 1 at this point. You knew you should’ve waited to tell them but you weren’t anticipating on them being this judgmental about it. You were hoping for a little more support, as they’re all way more experienced than you in the dating scene and could lend some helpful advice about your first date, ever.
See, the thing is you’ve never tried dating before so you wouldn’t know the first thing about it or what to expect from your future partner. You’ve never had a boyfriend, let alone held hands or kissed someone of the opposite sex. Being in your twenties it’s kind of embarrassing to say you’ve never done those things, but you thought what better way to try it out than renting a full-on experience that can give you just that? Well minus the kissing part, but you can make it work.
You were skeptical of doing this whole ‘rent-a-boyfriend’ thing at first because you didn’t think there’d be anyone you’d find suitable enough. A big part of the reason that you’re still single is because you’re extremely picky, you want to date a guy who’s so perfect that he must’ve came straight out of an indie romance film. Your friends would tease you for having such unrealistic standards when it came to dating but you were the all-or-nothing type, you’ll be single with fifty cats before you settle for less. Renting a boyfriend is definitely an unconventional idea of easing into dating but you thought it might be worth a try anyway.
What’s the worse that could happen?
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( 1 day earlier )
Hovering your cursor over the bold red text of the website, you read over the main rules before going on to select the person you want for your date.
‘The rules are simple:
You are allowed to see only ONE person at a time, if you want to switch boyfriends you’ll have to pay a $50 fee.
MUST be over 18 to rent a boyfriend, we have implemented an age verification system before the date as we do not tolerate anyone under this age to use our services.
NO kissing, or sexual intimacy allowed. If this is found out later on by our agency we will terminate your contract and ban you from using our services in the future.
Remember to have fun !! ^_^ Our services are great for people who are new to dating or have never been in a relationship. We provide the ~ultimate~ boyfriend experience to all our clients. Customer satisfaction is 100% guaranteed ! (NO REFUNDS)’
Well jeez… they seemed a bit strict but you can deal with those rules and restrictions for the most part.
After hours of skimming through hundreds of profiles, you have a hard time choosing which you like most. Did you want an artsy, shy kind of guy? The tattooed, bad boy aesthetic type? You really couldn’t pick one until you stumble upon a particular profile that catches your eye almost immediately.
SEO CHANGBIN | 168 CM | PART-TIME LIFEGUARD | 24 | *POPULAR ↝
5 Facts About Me: I’ve traveled to over 50+ different countries and counting (ask me which my favorites are), I can speak 4 languages (working on my fifth), love to sing and used to have a rap trio with my buddies from college, I can & will easily lift you up ;) also have a secret talent for cooking, there’s nothing I can’t do!
Why Choose Me? First of all, why not choose me? I’m the best candidate for whatever kind of date you need, something casual, social gatherings, weddings, you name it! I’m very social and can make most people laugh (unless they’re the literal Grinch reincarnated), I’m able to get along well with anyone and just love to have a good time. I hope we can get to know each other and make great memories in the future :)
Going through his pictures you couldn’t believe someone was capable of being this humanely attractive. Don’t even get started on those impeccable muscles either… He really had to sport them in every other one of his photos, wearing the tightest shirts to show the outline of his insanely sculpted frame. You might have just been mesmerized from his godlike visuals alone. They even had a Valentine’s Day deluxe package that comes with seven dates in total for half the price, which they specified was for a limited time only.
$600 later you’ve got a full week of dates lined up with the hottest guy you’ve ever seen in all your years of living. You should’ve definitely went shopping before considering all this because now you actually have a reason to get dolled up for someone.
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You were so nervous about going on this date you almost cancelled last minute out of fear. Typing out several different elaborate paragraphs to Changbin on why you couldn’t make it. You didn’t have his real phone number, it was all through an app facilitated by the rental company that was included in the package. Even though you were feeling overwhelmed and practically shaking with anxiety about meeting up with a guy, you still forced yourself to go anyway. You didn’t just dish out all that money just to not show up and waste his time on top of all that.
Your rental boyfriend texted you the location to meet at, it was near a train station so you both could see each other out in a public open space. The outfit you wore was fairly simple, a black mini skirt with warm tights underneath and a cropped turtleneck sweater. You accessorized the look with some dainty jewelry, a thin scarf, and knee high boots to pull everything together. It wasn’t something you usually wore but you had certain clothes you saved for a special occasion like this.
Upon your arrival, you notice him standing near a vending machine and waves over at you with the biggest smile plastered on his face. You awkwardly wave back, giving a soft smile as you slowly walk up to him. He looks even better in person, you don’t even feel adequate enough to be in such a gorgeous man’s presence. No wonder he’s so popular on the site, he’s practically unreal.
“Hi, you must be ___. It’s so nice to finally meet you, might I add you look really beautiful today, I think you’re making my heart race just by looking at you. Happy Valentine’s Day!” Changbin introduces himself, buttering you up with some sweet compliments before handing you the most insane bouquet of roses you’ve ever seen.
You take the flowers and almost stumble backwards from how heavy they were, “Wow, thank you!” Changbin prevents you from falling, quickly coming up behind you to get your balance back.
“Careful honey, can’t have you injured on our first date!” He voices with concern, “I hope you love the idea I came up with, I’ve only been to this place once before but I’m sure it’s still as fun as I remember it, let’s go!” Eagerly grabbing your hand to begin the journey, he turns around again to examine your body language.
“You seem a little tense babe? Do you need a massage?” He asks in a concerned tone again, this is all really beginning to freak you out. You know this is what you signed up for but this was all starting to feel a bit too personal, all the nicknames and sweet talk he’s giving is just something you aren’t used to.
“Uh, no! It’s o-okay.” You shook your head, denying anything suspicious going on. Truth be told you were barely able to contain your composure right now.
Changbin keeps on insisting, “The massage is included in the package so you don’t have to worry about getting charged extra.”
“N-no it’s okay, really. I’m just nervous that’s all, sorry I just don’t meet up with guys…” you shyly admit, finding it hard to look him in the eye.
He nods in understanding, “No need to be nervous with me sweetheart. I’m here to make you feel as comfortable as possible.” The smile he flashes at you instantly makes you warm on the inside, he seems like a genuine, caring person. You think things might go well for you after all.
The rest of the night was full of only good vibes and laughter by the end of it all. Changbin took you to an adult arcade that had old video games like Pac-Man, Super Mario, and Space Invaders, the other side was a bar where people could sit, drink, and socialize. He bought all your drinks that night, let you use up most of his tokens and overall had the most fun you could’ve ever had with someone. He was so easygoing but also knew when to act super caring and would be all lovey dovey with you. He was gentle, nurturing, and could have conversations about anything. You loved that he’d randomly drop some interesting fact you never knew about, or talked about a certain niche topic that he’d go on multiple rants over. It didn’t feel like you were renting someone out to date you, it felt natural— like you’ve known him for longer than a couple hours. Changbin walked you home and held your hand the entire time, along with the flowers he provided a teddy bear and a heart shaped box of chocolates. If that didn’t scream boyfriend goals then you don’t know what does.
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The next day you wake up to Changbin blowing your phone up this morning. You had over 26 messages from him, which was pretty excessive in your humble opinion. The first thing he said was good morning then he goes on to express how fun yesterday was and he can’t wait to do it again. He even sent a couple mirror selfies of him at the gym, ‘conceited much?’ You thought. But then again, if you were Seo Changbin you’d probably be full of yourself too.
For today’s date you wore a pretty red sundress that made your skin glow in the sunlight. It’ll definitely get him to compliment you even more— which you secretly love when he does. Changbin calls you before he heads out to the date, letting you know how excited he is to see you again. You couldn’t stop smiling like an idiot on the train as you made your way to the destination, thinking about what he’s planned for you two next. This time you’ll be meeting up at a park but you still have no clue what you’re doing.
Changbin texts you where exactly he is in the park, it was pretty huge so it took you a while to get to him. As you get closer you see him sitting on a large blanket by the lake, on top of it were a bunch of different foods and snacks scattered all around that came out of a huge picnic basket. You were speed walking at this point trying to get to him. His arms opened out for a hug and you lean right into him, what you didn’t expect was for him to suddenly stand up and lift you in his arms to swing around you like a doll.
“Put me down I’m scared of heights!” You squeal out in fear of being too high up in the air. Maybe you really should’ve taken the bio on his profile more seriously when he mentioned certain things.
Finally putting you down after minutes go by of you protesting, Changbin sits you back onto the blanket. He brought an assortment of breads, cheese, fruits, lemonade that he made himself and a couple seltzers. You’ve never seen anyone put such time and effort into a date before, even being here with him is like living in a daydream. He was definitely succeeding in making you feel comfortable, which is something you never thought was possible with men. He actually took his time getting to know you and didn’t sound arrogant whenever he talked about himself, Changbin was so different than other guys who’ve tried hitting on you in the past. He was actually respectful, intelligent, and could easily carry a conversation without long, awkward pauses.
He was literally everything you’re looking for in a guy. But you’ll be seeing him for this week only then it’s bye bye forever. That revelation makes you a little upset, but you try pushing those thoughts in the back of your mind. It’s irrelevant and unnecessary to think about. Yet you can’t help but wonder about certain things though, wanting to know more about his job and what it’s like on a daily basis for him.
“Can I ask you something? I need you to answer it honestly.” You say out of nowhere, hoping that didn’t come out as weird as you thought.
Changbin nods, “of course, shoot.”
“How many clients do you usually get?”
This question definitely catches him off guard, he’s never really been asked this before and he’s debating on if he should as it might be a breach of privacy.
“I don’t think I can answer that, sorry.” He responds in the nicest way possible, but deep down he wants to know why you’d want to know how many other people he sees a day.
You were going to push him a bit more to try and get an answer but you decide to let it go and just enjoy the rest of the picnic. You didn’t want to bring the mood down with your odd questions and/or end up making him feel so uncomfortable that he won’t want to see you anymore. It was definitely something you shouldn’t have asked but you were curious to know anyway. Overall besides that small incident, you had another wonderful time with Changbin and couldn’t wait for tomorrow to come any faster.
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Changbin had a foolproof way of getting you to blush like a giddy high school teen whenever he texted you. He’d always refer to you as ‘pretty girl’ or ‘princess’ which gave you insane amount of butterflies. You loved how clingy he could get and would double text when you don’t reply fast enough, always needing constant attention from you which you never minded giving.
He texted you at around three in the afternoon, proposing his next plan for today’s date.
‘Let’s go out for drinks tonight, it’s all on me ;)’
You liked his message, replying that you’ll be there and put a series of hearts at the end. Speaking of hearts, yours is fluttering at high altitudes from the way you can’t stop thinking about your “boyfriend” Changbin. This has been better than anything you could’ve expected, you never want this week to come to an end. It’s only been three days but you’ve begun to grow feelings for him, they weren’t too strong just yet but they were most definitely there. You couldn’t let that halt you from having a good time tonight, you’ll have to accept it soon enough he’s not your actual boyfriend. He’s doing this because you paid him to, if it wasn’t for your money he wouldn’t be here right now.
‘This relationship is purely transactional’ you unfortunately keep reminding yourself of the reality you’re in. Psyching yourself out of this sudden somber mood that’s consuming you, distracting your pessimism by raiding your closet for some cute clothes to wear tonight’s date. After what seemed like hours of tearing your entire room apart, you decide to settle on this sparkly black mini tube dress, pairing it with a leather jacket and more platform shoes because you’re obsessed with feeling tall. Once it’s 7 PM you head out to the bar you’re seeing Changbin at, he was already waiting for you inside the place. Eyes instantly lighting up when he sees you coming towards him, just like he always does he motions for a hug, pulling you in tightly like he hasn’t seen you in years.
His hugs felt so cozy, like sitting in front of the fireplace on a crisp, snowy winter’s evening. You never wanted to escape the warmth of his arms, it was one of those forms of physical touch that felt so overly personal to you. The thought of him hugging someone the same way he hugs you slightly enrages something in your spirit but again, it isn’t your place to get genuinely upset over him doing his job. You’re not entitled to him exclusively, but you feel like if you keep this up feelings will only continue to develop. This wasn’t something you considered when going into this and now you feel like you’ve just made a huge mistake.
“You okay babe?” Changbin notices you acting a bit strange, choosing not to pursue it after telling him you’re fine. He knows something’s wrong but doesn’t want to mess up the flow of the date, instead he orders a drink for the both of you and switches on to a lighter subject. “Let’s go shopping tomorrow at that new centre that just opened last week. I need to buy some new AirPods, I accidentally lost one of them in a taxi..”
“Sure,” you nod at his suggestion, in desperate need of some new clothes anyway. “Sorry about your AirPods, that sucks!”
He takes a sip of his bubbly drink that’s now on the table, “Eh, it’s okay this is probably the fourth time this has happened so far.” This has pretty much become a regular occurrence for him by now.
As the date progresses, things continue getting better. You’re both laughing, engaging in much deeper conversation than ever before. You definitely had more than enough alcohol in your system by now, feeling congested and claustrophobic as more people came into the bar. Changbin takes note of your discomfort and asks if you want to get some fresh air outside, you wasted absolutely no time to agree.
While you two were outside continuing your chat about some wild conspiracy he read about online, Changbin’s attention was soon drawn to a different building nearby. Gazing up in confusion at his sudden outburst of excitement, you wonder where he could be leading you next.
“Noraebang!” He shouts loud enough anyone miles away could’ve heard that, he’s now grabbing your hand to frantically drag you along with him.
You were never one to carry a tune but Changbin was actually very good at karaoke and singing in general, he had such a lovely voice. You could seriously listen to him sing all night— which you basically did since you kept begging for an encore until it hit 4 am. That’s when you both decided to finally call it a night, you wanted to pay for the Uber since he’s paid for all the drinks and every other expenses for today. You felt bad because you were the one renting him to be your boyfriend yet he’s constantly shelling out money left and right. He still insisted on paying and ultimately won the whole debacle, making you swallow your pride and get into the Uber with him. Changbin’s definitely not just someone you’re going to forget about after this week is over. You dread the day this all comes to an end, wishing there was a way to relive these moments again and again.
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“I’m a little under the weather today, sorry I can’t make it Binnie.” Your voice is hoarse from coughing and unbearable throat pain. You’ve already consumed half a bag of cough drops, throat lozenges, and random cold medicine you’ve found in your cabinets.
He sounds mildly disappointed, but springs back up with a new proposal, “I can come over and bring some soup if you’d like!”
You appreciate his gesture but still refuse, you know he’s only saying all this because he has to, not because he wants to. “N-no you don’t have to, I’m sure you can go see other clients today. One less person to worry about right?”
The call went silent for a minute, he wasn’t quite sure how to respond to such a deprecating comment.
“I don’t want to see other clients, I want to see you ___.” He sighs, unwilling to give up so easily, “I’ll be at your place soon, m’kay?” He hangs up before you could even respond or say no again.
You had no choice but to wait for Changbin to show up now. Before you got sick, the last two dates you went on were debatably the best so far. You had gone out shopping together, accidentally wearing almost the same kind of outfit. Changbin was wearing a white graphic tee with blue baggy jeans and you wore something practically identical. The two of you looked like a real, official couple and people would stare as you walked hand in hand, it really did seem like the perfect relationship on the outside.
You got even closer when he came over the following day, resulting in you two cuddling while watching movies and baking cookies. He’s expressed that he’s never been to another client’s home before but it wasn’t “technically” against any rules. The more you kept hanging out together, the harder it was coming to terms with the fact you’re actually falling for Changbin. He made every experience with you more exciting than the last, which he did exactly that night. When the cookies were done you fed a piece to him, making little airplane sounds as you do it, he eagerly takes a bite of the chewy treat and compliments both your efforts.
“These taste way better than I thought, oh my god they literally melt in your mouth. Try it!” He takes another cookie from the tray and feeds it to you this time.
There was something so overly domestic about that moment you couldn’t shake the feelings of wanting to kiss him right then and there. But you can’t. If you did such a thing you’d never be allowed to see him again, plus you don’t want to be known as that one creepy client who just couldn’t keep their hands to themselves. As you were cuddling on the couch though, things may have taken a turn for the better… or worse?
Changbin would “yawn” at the movie and subtly wrap his arm around you, he’d subconsciously pull you in closer and it didn’t make it any better that you were under the same blanket. You weren’t complaining at any of this though, you were pretty much in heaven. It took everything in you not to look up and stare, gluing your eyes to the movie that was displayed on the TV. But as the night progressed you were practically snuggling up with him like he was your real boyfriend. The way he’d run his fingers gently down your back, soothing you in a way that could lull you asleep. His touch was the most relaxing thing ever, you were so calm with him and loved how he brought a side of you that’s never been shown. After this encounter you can no longer deny the way you feel— you are officially falling deeply in love your rental boyfriend, Seo Changbin.
The sound of your doorbell ringing alarms you of a new visitor, who was none other than your “boyfriend” waiting patiently outside the door for you. You feel and look like death itself, coming downstairs to answer the door still in your PJ’s and hair a disheveled mess. Every five seconds was interrupted with you coughing your lungs out, barely able to speak above a whisper. Changbin looks thrilled as ever to see you, even when you clearly don’t look your best he’s still coming up to hug you tightly. His hugs are always blocking off your airways from the way his muscles squeeze you, it’s even worse when you’re sick— practically gasping for air.
“Sorry babyy, I just missed you so much. I couldn’t stop thinking about you all day and soon as you said you’re sick I dropped everything to go make you this soup. It’s a specialty I make whenever my friends are sick, the perfect remedy to cure my princess.” He goes into your kitchen to heat up the soup in your microwave, making you wait patiently on the couch as you’re wrapped up in multiple blankets.
Your body feels like it’s -2 degrees, you were freezing. The crazy thing is your thermostat was set to 80 degrees, it was definitely you that was the problem. He propped your feet up on the table, rested a tray in your lap and set the bowl of soup on top. Brushing a couple strands of hair out your face he looks at you intently, examining your symptoms as if he’s a doctor.
“It’ll be okay soon love, I’m here to nurse you back to health again. Can’t see my pretty baby sick like this, makes me all sad.” He pouts, giving you a soft head pat like you’re a delicate kitten.
He takes a spoonful of the hot soup, slightly blowing on it before telling you to open up so you can eat. You don’t know what’s gotten into you but you feel like he’s gone too far with all this. It’s not fair for you to continue on if it’s just become torture now. He’s practically dangling in your face that you’ll never have a partner as perfect as him in your life.
“I- I can’t do this anymore Changbin..” you say lowly, refusing to eat the soup he made.
“What do you mean? I’m just feeding you soup, it’s my duty as your boyfriend to-”
“This isn’t real… none of it is. I’m stupid for even doing this but I was lonely.. I’m sorry but I’d prefer something that isn’t temporary.” You cut him off to express your pent up frustrations, ready to be let down and rejected by him as gently as possible.
“Then let’s make it real,” he proposes without any hesitation, “honestly I stopped faking it around our third date, it was all me after that. I never said anything because well… this is my job and I’ve never fallen for a client before so this is still all very new to me..”
You’d be screaming right now if you weren’t sick, instead you’re internally freaking out at this confession, it feels like your hearts doing cartwheels and somersaults.
“Seriously?” Eyes widening as you look at him, suddenly your body heat rises and you know it’s not because of the soup or the layers of blankets that’s covering you.
He nods, “I thought it was kinda obvious when we kissed yesterday..”
Oh yeah… you forgot that did happen. You thought it was another fever dream you might’ve just made up in your head. You shared your first kiss with someone you deemed so special and important to you, someone you never would’ve guessed could come into your life and shift the entirety of your world like magic. There was no one else in existence you wanted more than Changbin.
“Doesn’t that mean you’ll have to quit your job? I don’t want to be the reason you stop making such good income.. I’ll feel so bad.” You knew deep down you didn’t feel that badly about him quitting to date you instead. It was just the thought of him leaving something he’s been doing for years behind all for some girl he’s known for simply a week.
He shrugs at your comment, “I’ll be just fine, I was planning on finding a new job soon anyway. It gets kinda old after a while, I felt like I was on autopilot most of the time. You were able to get me to open up and show my true self, I could never thank you enough for that ___.” Changbin couldn’t resist the urge to plant a kiss to your forehead.
After everything that’s been said and done. What you’ve come to understand is that love is learned, a development that takes time to grow and blossom into something extraordinary. Just like learning a new language or a musical instrument, we learn love from society and cultures we’re raised in, it’s a beautiful thing once we know how to cherish it. Your newfound romance with Changbin is something you’ll learn to cherish forever and ever.
[End <3].
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familyvideostevie · 19 days
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time you will not spend alone
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joel miller x fem!reader, 18+ mdni romance at the end of the world is this: flowers, lazy nights in bed after long days, and savoring every moment | or, joel makes you something. jackson!joel au, fem!reader, fluff, maybe a bit cheesy but idgaf, ellie cameo cause i can't do a damn thing without her, tommy gets some page time here too, smut (riding, unprotected p in v sex, some finger sucking lol), tenderness, gift giving | 5.7k a/n: i think this is the last part of the just and just as series for the foreseeable future. thank you for reading about this little au and these two lovebirds! i adore them. thank you @frannyzooey and @macfrog for your eyes and support on this. and thank you everyone else for being patient. <3
Spring sweeps into the valley seemingly overnight. The peaks remain snow-capped but the bare branches of trees between the evergreens begin to bud. Chilly mornings lose their bite and frost turns to dew and every day there is more light.
You've always thought Jackson looks its best in winter, but it's a damn sight to see as life and color return. And the latter is your favorite part -- the rolling hills outside the walls and the forest patrol paths are dotted and then overflowing with flowers.
It makes you feel more alive. Patrol isn't a freezing ordeal anymore -- it's an opportunity to see the remaining beauty in the world.
Today's shift is short and easy but you find yourself lingering, running your hands through pine needles and turning your face to the sun. Your horse is happy to munch on a patch of grass in a clearing just off the main trail, but your patrol partner is less than impressed.
"Are you serious?" Ellie moans. "You're stopping again? What the fuuuuuuuuck."
She sags in the saddle. The pout on her lips makes her look like a kid sent to bed without supper rather than an almost-twenty-year-old forced to spend some extra minutes in the fresh air. Shimmer has no problem chewing on some weeds despite her rider's moaning.
"Let me enjoy the sun," you say. "When you get older you'll appreciate the little things, too."
You hop off your horse and Ellie sighs loudly.
"Jesus, you're not that old," she mutters. "Seriously, what are you doing?"
You sweep your arms around you, gesturing at the meadow. "These flowers are nice," you tell her, pointedly. She adjusts the rifle slung over her shoulder. "I think I'm going to pick some and bring them home."
She snorts. "Oh, is Joel suddenly into flowers?"
You ignore her bait and crouch, gaze sweeping over the array of colors in front of you. You tried to learn the names of flowers years ago when you found a book on them in an old bookstore but they never stuck. Purples, pinks, and yellows, large petals and small ones, delicate yet hardy to survive the world past its end.
Joel isn't a fussy man. Young fathers don't get to be, and anyone alive these days sheds that impulse just as quickly. He's happy to wake up every day with you by his side, his kid in the garage out back and walls around everything he loves, keeping it all safe.
It makes it both easy and hard to please him -- you want to give him everything but he seems to want nothing. A perfect paradox, a puzzle to solve. 
God, you love him. You love spring, you love Joel. Everything feels good.
So, you start to gather stems, snapping them at their bases, humming as you work.
"How do you choose which ones to pick?"
"Fuck," you gasp, careening forward onto one palm and looking over your shoulder. Ellie is off her horse and much closer than before, standing directly behind you. "Jesus, you're stealthy."
She shrugs, her smirk a pleased slash across her face. "You're oblivious as fuck."
You roll your eyes at her.
"Seriously," Ellie says, crossing her arms. She jerks her chin at the small bouquet you've got in one hand. "How do you make it look so nice?"
"Oh, so we've moved on from the making-fun-of-me part of this?"
She crouches next to you, elbows on her knees.
"I, uh -- " Her cheeks go pink, freckles standing out against her blush. "Dina likes flowers."
You bump her shoulder with yours. "I'm going to be so nice and not tease you."
"Fuck off," she scoffs, tucking her smile into her shoulder.
It's quick work. Ellie follows your lead, balances out the blooms she picks with some leafy weeds. She ties them together with one of the minimum four spare hairbands she has on her person at all times -- bits of cloth, occasionally a rare unused elastic from before if she's found some on patrol.
"Isn't it kinda shitty?" she muses, nimble fingers turning her bouquet this way and that to admire it. "We're killing them. The flowers, I mean."
"Little late to have a conscience about killing," you say lightly. The two rabbits she pulled from Jackson snares hang from her saddle. You've seen her in action, too -- gun raised, hands steady, blood splattered across her cheek. It's not an accusation, far from it. Violence is a language you both speak, one she's known for most of her still-short life.
She rolls her eyes, every bit a teenager. "Whatever."
You sigh. "You're right, though," you say. "There were whole shops dedicated to this before. Selling flowers, making bouquets and centerpieces and all that shit."
She probably knows this, but she lets you describe it. Ellie soaks up bits of the old world like it will materialize before her if she listens hard enough. Joel says it was much worse when she was younger, right after they settled into Jackson. She wanted details about everything and watched every movie she could get her hands on. You think she was satisfying her curiosity, sure, but also that she was trying to understand him better -- but didn't know how to say so.
"Weird," she mutters. "And you just...bought them for other people?"
"Or yourself." You pat her shoulder and stand. Your horse tries to nibble on your flowers before you haul yourself back in the saddle. "It was just a nice thing to do, I guess."
"Killing something to make someone else happy," Ellie says with a dry laugh. She tucks her bouquet in the crook of her arm once she's back in the saddle. "I guess everyone does that these days."
It's absurd when she puts it that way, but it's true. You've all got blood on your hands. You would kill for this girl, for Joel, for pretty much anyone in Jackson. And you have.
The flowers are for Joel, they're for your house, they're for you. Something beautiful to bring home alongside your dirt stains and scarred hands, your haunted eyes and nightmares. No one is spared those.
It's only mid-morning by the time you get back to the wall. You and Ellie left at dawn, short sticks drawn for the early shift. She leaves you in the stables with a mock salute and a shout of thanks, practically jogging to Dina's to give her the flowers.
You're untacking your horse when you hear familiar laughter, a deep chuckle and Ellie's faint indignant protest.
"Mornin'," Joel says from behind you. "Was hopin' to catch you at the gate."
"Can you hold these?"
You blindly extend the hand with the flowers. His fingers carefully extract the bouquet and you return to brushing out your horse.
"Does this have somethin' to do with Ellie runnin' out of her with flowers of her own?"
"Never let anyone say you're unobservant, Joel Miller."
He snickers. You leave your horse with a final pat on the neck and thanks for a job well done.
When you face Joel, he looks tired -- he's been pulling extra long days replacing windows and roof tiles after the winter's damage. God knows that man never seems fully rested, but it's a little worse when the seasons change.
He's told you time and time again that standing two stories off the ground is a hell of a lot safer than fighting some Infected on patrol, but you still worry. Just like you know he worries about you beyond the walls, how he's a little tenser whenever you're not in sight, whenever he hasn't seen Ellie for a few days ‘cause they're both busy. It's just how he loves. It's how you both love.
You make no move to take the flowers from him, instead brushing some sawdust from his shoulder.
"Did you have a job already?" you ask.
"Small one. Fixin' a crooked over mailbox." He looks pointedly at his full fist. "You gonna explain now?"
"They're for you."
Joel blinks once, twice, brows furrowing like you're speaking a different language. Maybe a few years ago you'd start to feel self-conscious, unsure of your romantic gesture and insecure in his reaction. But now, as fully in love and connected to this man as you are, you lean in.
"If you're too manly to carry flowers through town --"
You make to take them from him but he snaps out of his daze and wraps an arm around your shoulders, pulling you to his chest in a smooth motion.
He also holds the bouquet in the air and out of reach.
"Hey, now," he says. "Hands off. These ain't your flowers."
"I picked 'em," you remind him, poking him in the ribs for good measure. 
He flinches just a little but doesn't move. His embrace is warm and familiar and you sink into it. "Gettin' romantic," he mutters and brings the flowers back down to eye level to examine them.
"I'm just trying to catch up to you," you say into his jacket. He huffs and his palm rubs a slow line up and down your arm.
You wiggle out of his embrace to shoulder your pack.
"I am pretty romantic," he muses.
It's true. Even if he's joking and even if no one but you gets to see it, Joel has always made sure you feel loved. Courtship and romance look different these days, but it still comes naturally to him -- loving. Dinner dates, jewelry, and trips to the airport have become a battered paperback, a sharpened knife, and bloody knuckles, but it rings just as true. He loves you and he loves his family the best way he knows how – by keeping you all safe.
And you do your best to convey the same thing. You tell him, of course, but you also mend his shirts and chop wood when his back is acting up, and you look after his kid like she's your own.
Joel deserves to know that he can receive all that he gives, too – the protection, the tenderness, the beauty. Moments of softness and rest where he knows he’s taken care of, thought of, that he matters beyond the things he can do for everyone else.
So, you also do things like bring him flowers.
Sometimes you feel like it will never be enough. You will never have enough time to show him how much he means to you, how he's saved you, how important and cherished and loved he is. How good he is.
Joel reaches for your face with his free hand. He traces the line of your cheekbone with his thumb and smirks when you inhale sharply. Another patrol returns and the stables are suddenly louder and more crowded than before. If you're both free for the rest of the day, you want to drag him up to your bedroom and spend the hours there. You want to show him, for the millionth time, how much you love him.
"Okay, Mr. Pretty Romantic," you say, grabbing his hand and tangling your fingers together. "Let's go home."
___
Joel is hiding something from you.
The flowers last for a week and you watch him eye them and smile every time he enters the kitchen.
But after they droop and go in the compost pile, something shifts. Something subtle, sure, but you spend most of your waking hours looking for or at Joel, so you notice.
He starts keeping his workshop door closed. Normally you'll sit and watch him work, or he'll teach you a few chords here and there on the guitars he's making, but your lessons move to the porch and the upstairs hallway loses the scent of wood glue and stain.
In fact, he actively steers you away from the room altogether. He's all just needs a deep clean and it's messy, is all. It's not rocket science -- he's making something for you, clearly. But giving him a hard time is too fun to pass up.
One night, you and Ellie wait at the bottom of the stairs. There's a dinner and movie night in the old church and you're taking the opportunity to make it a family outing.
"You coming?" you holler up the stairs. You hear the door creak open.
"Gimme a second," he calls back down.
"Jesus," you mutter. You tap the side of Ellie’s sneaker with your boot. "You know anything about that?"
Honesty is important between all of you, but you know Joel and Ellie need to have their secrets. There is too much tangled history between them for you to understand it all. It's important to you that they have a relationship all their own, even if it means they scheme.
Ellie is examining her switchblade with intense focus. "I might," she says with a smirk. "He's a lovesick loser, I'll tell you that."
You lean on the banister and raise your eyebrows. "Do you remember when you asked me how to embroider so you could put Dina's name on her jacket?"
The knife swings closed with a snick and she rolls her eyes at you, cheeks pink.
"Shit, dude," she says. "Why do I tell you anything?"
"She liked the flowers, though, didn't she?"
Ellie crosses her arms and smiles at whatever memory she's seeing in her mind. "Yeah," she says. "She did. Jesse gave me so much shit, though --"
The door upstairs closes and Joel's heavy footfalls cut her off.
"Finally," you grumble. He trods down the stairs, arms half in his jacket when he catches sight of the two of you. "Are you hiding state secrets in there?"
"What the fuck does that mean?" Ellie asks.
"Might be," is all he says. He's got that twinkle in his eye that means mischief but he looks proud of himself. You can let him have this, whatever this is. You trust him and you'll find out eventually.
"Alright," you say, pushing off the banister and heading for the door. "You're going to breathe toxic fumes with the door closed."
"No, seriously," Ellie says. "What kind of secrets would a state be keeping?"
"Ain't nothin' toxic in there," he says lightly. He bumps Ellie's shoulder with his. "C'mon."
She throws her hands up in the air. "You know, it's shitty when you ignore me."
"Did you hear somethin'?" Joel says to you.
You shake your head, swallowing your laughter. "No," you say. "Nothing."
"Assholes." She pushes past you and down the steps onto the street. "I'm going to make sure there are no mashed potatoes left when you get there."
__
You don't mind letting Joel do whatever he's up to in all of his spare moments. It does mean you have more time to yourself, so you pick up some extra wall shifts.
And when one of those shifts is with Tommy? Well, you can't help but needle him a little bit about it all.
"Do you know what your brother is up to?" you ask him.
The wind today carries some lingering winter bite, so you've got the collar of your coat pulled up around your ears. Tommy’s hair whips around his face when he raises his eyebrows at you.
"Gonna have to be more specific," he says. "My brother is always up to some shit."
"I think he'd say the same thing about you."
Tommy laughs. He's got the reputation for being the more easy-going of the Millers, but you know he's more a match for Joel than most think. Out in the world, they work as one, silent and deadly, always in step when it counts. They still speak a language all their own with just a look and you see so much of them in each other when you pay attention.
"Well, I learned it all from him," he says. He adjusts his grip on the rifle and sighs. "I happen to know what you're talkin' 'bout, though."
"Is he just telling everyone but me?"
"Nah," Tommy scoffs. "Asked me and Ellie for help, s'all. And you know he tells that girl everythin'."
You both smile for a moment at your fondness for them.
Tommy clears his throat. "Does it bother you? Him keepin' a secret?"
You know Tommy won't let your answer get back to Joel. He's asking as your friend, as your kind-of brother. He's asking because he cares.
A patrol crests the hill, green flag waving in the air. They whistle and shout for the gate to be opened. 
You step closer to Tommy so he can hear you. "No," you say. "I just like to gossip."
"Don't I know it," he chuckles. "You two are the eyes and ears of this damn town. Knowin' everything."
"Except what happens in my own home," you tease. 
He shrugs. "You'll like it, if that helps," he adds.
"I know I will."
You look out at the world beyond the wall and smile to yourself. 
Joel has made you a few things over the years. He works wonders with his hands all the time: Beautiful, intricate carvings for the house, for Ellie, for new babies in town. The wall of guitars, not to mention the ones he's made for kids to learn on in school. You're better at sewing than he is, but he's pretty damn good – fixing up pillowcases and blankets and clothes of all kinds. Joel is a craftsman.
Hands that hold you can also pull a trigger, punch until there's nothing left, and craft a work of art.
And he knows you. He pays attention -- there is a reason behind everything he does. If he's making you something, you know you'll love it.
"Strange, ain’t it?" Tommy says. You turn to him, a question on your face. "World ended and here we all are, happy. Makin' shit for each other. Gosspin'."
You sigh. “Took a lot to get here.”
“Damn right,” he says with a long whistle. “Lotta shit behind us.”
“Do you ever regret it?” you ask. 
Tommy considers your words. You two talk plenty, but you’ve never really spoken about the past. Joel tells you whatever you want to hear about the years before you knew him, so you’ve got a pretty good picture of their lives after the outbreak.
"Can I tell you somethin’?” Tommy asks. You nod. "Alright. I – I never thought I'd see my brother this happy again. And I wish every damn day that Sarah was here to see it. To know him this way, to meet Maria. To know you and Ellie."
Joel has said the same thing before and it’s an honor greater than you can ever explain.
"When I saw him and that girl a few years ago, I thought --" Tommy clears his throat. "I thought maybe he’d made it through all the shit we did. And I was right. She brought him through it. And now he’s here, doin’ stable life shit we dreamed about before."
"Ellie is a force," you say, a little surprised to find your voice watery. The love between Ellie and Joel is fierce and powerful, evident to anyone who witnesses it. They would do anything for each other, even though they're mending.
"She is," he says. "And so are you.” He sighs and runs a hand through his hair. “Shit, I don’t know where I’m goin’ with this. Point is – seein' him love you, too, shows me he’s through it. He's alive again, you know? And I’d do all the shit we did over again just to get us all here. So, no. I don’t regret it."
It’s nothing you haven’t thought before, but the words work their way into your heart and sit there, heavy and warm.
“Damn,” you say. You swallow and give him a wide smile. "If you keep going, Tommy Miller, I will start crying and that would embarrass us both."
He laughs and blinks a few times. You join in, wiping your eyes.
"Alright, I won't," he says. "Jesus, all you did was ask what he's doin' in that workshop."
You clap him on the shoulder. "I won't tell anyone you started blubbering on duty."
He snorts. "Ain't that generous of you.”
__
Days pass. A week. You almost forget about Joel's project because he spends less and less time in the workshop and more on tasks around town as the days get longer. You're both busy -- chopping wood, planting bulbs for the fall, helping de-shed the horses. There's always work to be done.
After a particularly long day on your feet, you come out of the bathroom wrapped in a towel to find he's gotten home while you were in the shower.
"Hey, stranger," you say. You're mostly dry but some water drips down your back and you shiver. Joel is leaning against the headboard on top of the sheets without his shirt, reading whatever book he's onto now.
"Didn't hear me come in?" he asks. He sets his volume aside and pulls off his glasses.
"I was too busy coming back to life under some hot water." He probably heard you singing off-key to some long-lost song stuck in your head for the millionth time. "And you're quiet as hell, Joel."
He shrugs.
You just look at each other, the intimate gaze of two people who know every inch of each other and never tire of it.
The sleep pants he wears to bed this time of year are lightweight, thin enough that you can see the outline of him from here. His stomach is soft where he's bent at the waist and the trail of hair above his waistband is dark, darker than the rest of what's on his chest.
The golden expanse of his skin just begs to be touched, so you make your way over to him in your towel. He makes room for you to perch on the edge of the bed, the bare skin of your thigh pressing into his pants. His palm rests on your knee.
"I haven't seen much of you lately," you say softly. "’Cause of that damn thing you're working on."
His fingers press into your skin.
"Ain't patience a virtue, or something like that?"
"Whatever magic you're working better be worth waiting for," you tease.
Joel's hand resumes its path up your leg and he smirks.
"I can work some magic right now," he says.
You laugh, throwing your head back as his fingertips edge under the towel.
"That was awful," you say. "I should get dressed in all of my layers right now and go sleep on the couch."
You pull away from his touch so you can straddle him, your towel only held on by one hand at your breasts.
Joel snickers. "But then I wouldn't be able to do this."
Nimble fingers find your cunt between your spread legs and you gasp a laugh, one hand on his shoulder to balance you in his lap.
"Smooth," you manage. His other hand tugs on the towel and you release it, your slightly damp skin breaking out into goosebumps in the air of the bedroom.
Joel drags his lips between your breasts and you feel his smile.
"Christ," he says. "You comin' outta there in just a towel and you expect me to go to sleep?"
He pulls his fingers from you and frames your face with both hands to drag it down to his in a lazy, thorough kiss, like he's savoring each moment.
His tongue traces the seam of your lips and you let him in readily, arms wrapping around his shoulders as you grind down on the hardness you can feel through his pants.
"I've missed you," you say, dragging your tongue along down his jaw. His fingertips press into your bare hips hard enough to bruise, but it's a grounding touch rather than an urgent one. You want to take your time because you have missed him, and you think he feels the same way.
"Sorry, sweetheart," Joel groans, dragging your lips back to his. "It'll be worth it."
You pull back to look him in the eyes. The hazel-grey is almost totally taken over by his pupil, but his gaze softens when you cup his cheek and smile.
"I know," you say, and mean it. Naked in his lap in your bedroom, you mean it. You always mean it. You always trust him.
Joel kisses you once, twice, and you pull on his lower lip with your teeth when he pulls away. His nostrils flare and before you can tug his cock from his pants, he holds two fingers out to you.
You laugh, circling his wrist and bringing the digits past your lips. You swirl your tongue around them and really take your time with it, laving at his knuckles before releasing them with a pop.
His cock twitches beneath you and he huffs.
"You're an easy man to please, Joel Miller," you tell him, tugging down his pants and letting his shaft spring free. You stroke him root to tip and he hisses.
"Nah," he manages. "It's ‘cause it's you."
He follows his words with a circle of your clit from his spit-slick fingers.
"See?" you gasp. "Romantic."
It's a bit crowded, his hand rubbing your clit and yours slowly jerking him, but neither of you rush it. You pant together, dotting lazy kisses on any piece of bare skin you can reach. You breathe him in, the combination of sweat and gun oil and fresh detergent that's just Joel. A rush of tenderness hits you so suddenly your nose stings.
"Joel," you say, a bit ragged. "Joel, can you --"
A gentle hand on your face brings your foreheads together, his eyes on yours.
"Whatever you want," he groans. "Whatever you want, it's yours."
You can't help it -- you laugh. Brightly and happily, almost in disbelief that this man is yours. Real and solid under you right now, beside you every night. Yours to love and cherish and all the rest.
"You laughin' at me?" he grumbles, though you can tell he's fighting a smile.
"I just love you, is all," you say. You probably don't say it enough. You and Joel show each other every day, so much so that you can't imagine he doesn't know. As it is, you feel loved by him with every move he makes, every time he looks in your direction, every time he says your name.
"And I want you to fuck me," you add.
It's Joel's turn to laugh.
"Now who's the romantic one?" he says. 
You rise from his lap and settle onto your back on the other side of the bed, stretching with your hands above your head.
His eyes follow the line of your bare body, fondness and hunger recognizable in his gaze.
"Always so damn pretty," he grumbles. "Prettiest thing I've ever seen."
"Flirt," you tease.
He rises to his knees and pumps his cock a few times with his fist. You spread your legs for him, knees bent up against your chest.
He settles between your knees and you lock them around his hips. Joel honest-to-god winks at you before dragging two fingers through your folds to make sure you're slick enough.
"Ready?"
You nod. He enters you in one practiced move and you groan in unison as you adjust. It takes some shuffling but he finds a position he can hold, and you wrap your arms around his neck.
Joel fucks you slow and deep. Each drag of his cock against your walls curls your toes and drags whines from both of your throats. He keeps up his usual babel -- doin' so good, feel like a dream, so damn tight, cunt's a fuckin' miracle -- and you press your hands into his bare back like he's a life raft.
Sweat beats on your brow, your chest, everywhere, and you suck bruises into his neck as his thrusts get a little frantic. Your own orgasm sneaks up on you, the pressure building and building and building until it snaps without warning.
"Joel -- Joel, fuck, I --"
You clench around him and he chants your name, that's it, baby, come on my cock, and buries himself to the hilt to finish inside you.
He hovers above you on trembling arms long enough to press a sweet kiss to your lips before rolling off of you.
"Now I'm ready for bed," you say, panting.
You fling a hand out lazily and it lands on his chest. He intertwines your fingers and his gaze finds yours. You smile as you get your breathing under control.
Joel smooths your brow with a thumb. "Don't forget to --"
"I know, I know," you say. "C'mon, you know this isn't my first rodeo." You get up from the bed and head to the bathroom.
"You sayin' I'm a bull?" Joel calls after you.
"Save a horse, ride a cowboy!" you holler back, cleaning yourself up. "Didn't people used to say that?"
Joel doesn't answer you but you laugh at your own joke. You make your way back to the bed in old pyjamas and find him back in his sweatpants, feet flat on the floor like he's about to get up and go somewhere.
"Joel?"
He sighs, his shoulders moving up and down like he's bracing himself.
"It's done," he says. "Your surprise."
The confession stops you in your tracks.
"Oh?"
You know Joel better than mosty, but sometimes he's still a puzzle. The hesitation, the slight air of anxiety about him as he says it confuses you. Because Joel is good at taking care of people, and he has to know it -- those years he and Ellie didn't speak you know he left her things, know that he took care of her from afar as much as she would let him. It's just what he does, he uses his hands to beat and shoot and bloody – but also to carve and hold and love.
They're the same thing, really.
And he's made you something – one of countless gifts he's given you, tangible and not, throughout your relationship.
But he's nervous. As if you wouldn't love anything he made, anything he does. As if you're not gone over every part of him.
"Hm," he says. "Yeah. Let me --"
Joel gets up from the bed and pads over to the dresser to rummage around in a drawer. You meet him back on the bed and he's holding a square-ish parcel wrapped in cloth.
You gingerly take it from him.
"This is what you've been working on?" you ask softly. He nods.
You unwrap the cloth and find yourself holding leather-bound journal. The hide is smooth under your fingertips, scraped clean by hand and tanned a dark chestnut.The spine is about an inch wide, the whole thing swen together with neat stitches of what can only be catgut. A thinner strip of leather is wrapped around the cover and tucked into itself carefully. It must have taken him ages to make. 
"Joel," you gasp. "It's...god, it's beautiful."
He tells you how he found it on patrol a few weeks ago. The cover was fucked but the paper was somehow fine, so he dried out the pages and rebound it with a hide he tanned himself. You run your hands over it again almost like you can feel his fingerprints all over it, the hours he poured into the pages.
The inside cover falls open easily when you undo the tie and you see letters in the bottom left corner of it. Your eyes sting.
Joel has carefully burned your name into the leather, each letter perfectly lined up with the next. You haven't had something with your name on it in years.
He clears his throat. "Ellie said she'd give you some of her pens. Show you how to refill 'em."
You look up from your gift and find so much love on his face you can hardly stand it. He was inside you not that long ago and somehow this is more intimate. You surge forward into his space and wrap an arm around his shoulders, burying your face in his neck.
"I don't know what to say," you confess. "Just -- thank you."
He runs his hand along your spine.
"S'nothin'," he says. "Just saw it and thought of you, is all."
You release him and shake your head in disbelief. This man.
"What should I write in it?"
Joel's cheeks darken a little. Of course he's thought of everything.
"Figured you could write about...all this." He waves a hand in the air like that explains anything.
"All what?"
He shrugs one bare shoulder.
"Life," he says. "Jackson. Folks here. Might be nice, havin' the memories."
You scoot closer to him so you're almost in his lap again.
"You want me to write down the gossip?" You mean it as a joke but Joel nods.
"You pay attention," he explains. "Someone's gotta."
You're not much of a writer anymore, haven't had cause to be in twenty years. But you do like to tell stories. You both do. 
The pages are soft under your fingertips as you flip through them again. You're going to fill them with stories -- about this town, about Joel and Ellie and Tommy and the people you love. The people you've lost, too. The memories that hurt like bruises, like fresh wounds. But the good stuff, too. The gossip, the love stories, the plants in the yard and the flowers on the trails.
Joel has given you the ability to record your lives.
You reach over him to set the journal on the nightstand before you frame his face with both of your hands.
"I'm going to write pages and pages about you, Joel Miller," you whisper.
He huffs, cheeks warm under your palms. "That's borin'."
You shake your head and lean in until your lips brush and your eyes flutter shut.
"That's the story," you say. "That's my life. This is my life. You are."
“I love you,” he breathes. “So damn much. Y’know that?”
How could you not? You say so and kiss him firmly but without hurry. You’ve got lots of time. You’ve got forever.
884 notes · View notes
lydiimae · 1 month
Text
Infatuation
Pairing: Benedict Bridgerton x fem!reader
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MDI!! 18+
Part 2 <3
Warnings: Heavy drinking, mentions of opium use, mentions of prostitution, rough sex, fingering, oral sex, semi-public sex, squirting, marking, thigh riding, vaginal sex, dom benedict and sub reader, brief spanking, possessive benedict, LOTS of dirty talk
A.N: hi again, i'm back on my bullshit <3 first of all, thank you so very much for the love on my first Benny fic AND my first fic ever. liiiiike seriously, that was so sweet <3 T-T. anyway, this fic is another Benny fic- a smutty one at that. it is vaguely based off of the infamous party where Ben has his threesome, however, i changed it up quite a bit so take it at face value hehe. i am planning on making an Anthony one next, probably some more filth so I can practice getting my wording to a place i am proud of. also, i think i will maybe make this into a series??? so do let me know if you like it so i can get an idea >.< enjoy, ily, and THANK YOU AGAIN <3 ^-^
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You were never one to go to parties, especially the ones your dear friend Genevieve Delacroix invited you to. She had a knack for finding the most raunchy, wanton, artists who would throw parties full of courtesans, sex, opium, alcohol... the whole of it.
Being a maid for such a wealthy and well-known family, the Featherington's to be exact, meant you knew the secret lives that many lords and ladies lead outside of the stuffy confines of the ballrooms.
You were lucky to be the lady's maid of the sweetest Featherington, Penelope, and therefore you were even luckier to hear about the Bridgerton family. From what she told you, they were all kind and polite, just like anyone else. She had also hinted, quite shyly, to the men of the family being gorgeous. The third born being her favorite.
You had seen glimpses of pearly white teeth, dark blue tailcoats, and their chestnut brown hair but were never lucky enough to see a full image of any of them but Eloise and her sister, Daphne.
When Genevieve insisted on you tagging along with her and a friend from a higher-up place, you begrudgingly accepted. It was lucky that the young debutante you worked for insisted on having something important to do, so you snuck out and walked through the streets of London to the modiest's shop.
Genevieve dressed you in a tight but, incredibly beautiful, dark blue corset and a pair of black pants, to which you raised an eyebrow. "I look as if I am soliciting, not as if I am curious about this party you have been nagging me to go to." You comment, looking in the mirror.
"What if you solicit, hm? Where is the harm in spending a night with a lord or even another servant?" She returns, tightening up the laces on the corset before stepping back and looking over her work. "Besides, look at yourself. You have a body that would make any one of those silly debutantes jealous, why not show it?" She grins.
You sigh and turn to her, a small cheeky smile on your face as a result of her teasing. "You owe me for this, Viv." You tease and she laughs, putting on her cloak as she hands you your own. "There she is. The Y/N I know. We will have fun, I swear it." She says. Once your cloak is tugged over your shoulders, the both of you make your way out of the shop and towards the house where the party is being held.
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Benedict never snuck out, not before he got invited to Lord Granville's house. The man was nice enough about him completely insulting his art to his face, nice enough to recognize an artistic eye and even the hint of talent that Benedict possessed through merely speaking about art. He thought the gathering was going to be one where he would meet artists and practice his craft. He was wrong.
Of course, he was experienced in the world of sex, drugs, and drinking. He attended the gentleman's club with his brothers after almost every ball he attended, much like every other lord in the ton. He has shared his number of passion-filled nights with nameless women, some of which he cannot remember. The only remenice being the ache of a hangover, and the taste of expensive whiskey still lingering on his tongue.
He would have never thought that the artist had such a scene hiding behind such an unassuming townhouse.
He followed the artist in and was met with quite the scene. The room was hazy with the smoke of expensive cigars, the candlelight casting a low gold hue on the entire house. He followed the artist deeper and was met with courtesans soliciting men at every turn, to which he grinned.
Even further and he was led into a room where women were posed naked, in quite compromising positions, for eager artists who were trying to master the anatomy of a naked woman. Or so that is what Granville claimed.
He grins crookedly at the sight. "Quite the room, is it not?" Lord Granville piques up from behind him. He turns to face the man and nods. "Quite. Might I stay here? I have found myself needing practice of anatomy as of late and this is the perfect place to do so." He says, a playful glint in his eye.
Granville, of course, picks up on it and nods. "Of course, Lord Bridgerton. Do enjoy yourself." He returns with a knowing smile and a wink before exiting the room. Benedict sits at one of the free easles, one of the other men lighting a cigar and offering it to him. He accepts, and puffs on it as he begins to work.
He could get used to this.
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Genevieve leads you through the party, grabbing two glasses of what looks like scotch off of a passing servant's tray. She settles for meeting her friend, who you quickly learn is the wife of said artist who is throwing the party, on the stairs.
After a while of chatting you learn that the young woman's name is Lucy and her husband is Henry Granville, an artist whose work you always found interesting. You also are clued into the fact that their marriage is one of convenience, rather than love, as Lord Granville has no romantic nor sexual interest towards the opposite sex. You find no issue in what the young couple has, after all, you have seen much worse when it comes to marriages in the ton.
"Viv, might I go explore, or am I to only solicit?" You tease as you push off the wall. She laughs and shakes her head. "I am not your keeper, Y/N. Go and do as you wish, just be careful." She says, a hint of genuine protectiveness seeping through her tone of voice. "I promise. I will find my way back to your shop if anything goes awry." You assure before walking down the steps with a quick wave to both of the women.
You duck into a small room with a door that leads to a balcony after grabbing another glass of scotch from a passing servant. However fun it is coming to these things with Viv, you find them quite overwhelming. You are more attuned to the quietness of your servant's quarters, spending countless hours curled up with a good book that your young mistress so generously gifts you from time to time.
You walk out on the balcony, leaning heavily on the metal railing as you look up at the stars. The scotch, and the fact that you get much drunker much quicker than most, is making a delightfully warm feeling bloom in your chest. You take a deep breath of the fresh air to calm your senses before ducking back into the party.
You make it all of two steps before colliding into a broad chest, which sends your alcohol down the front of your torso.
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He was in that hazy, alcohol-filled room, long enough to get just drunk enough to where he was clumsy. He catches the woman he so foolishly clambered into on his way out of the room he was painting in by the waist, which sends her drink out of her hand and down her front.
"My God, I am so incredibly sorry my lady." He rushes, gazing down at the mess he made. His eyes widen at the sight that lies in front of him.
She's a young woman, young enough that she can not be past the age of two and twenty, in a very revealing corset top and black pants. Her hair is tucked up elegantly, yet a few unruly waves have fallen as a result of the night's activities. Her cheeks are pink, probably from the embarrassment or perhaps even the anger, of getting drenched in scotch.
The liquid drips down her neck, and he follows a drop from her neck to where it travels right between her breasts. The tops are peaking out from being hugged so tight. They are full, so very full. He wonders what it would feel like to run his tongue over the smooth skin, what it would feel like to roll her nipple between his teeth and suck.
He shakes himself out of it and meets her eyes once more before he gets any more aroused than he already is.
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You recognize him immediately as a Bridgerton, though you have no idea which one. He has a silly crooked smile on his face that you cannot seem to draw your eyes from, he also sports the undoubtedly Bridgerton chestnut brown hair.
He has longer hair than the one Penelope speaks of, but only just. Your eyes roam from his face to his chest, where he is wearing only a loose undershirt, his waistcoat long forgotten in drunken activities you're sure. His suspenders hang loose on his shoulders, just barely hanging onto his black trousers.
"You're a Bridgerton." It slips out of your mouth before you can stop it, the effects of three glasses of scotch. He grins wider, chuckling a bit. The noise makes your entire body heat up. "I am. Benedict Bridgerton in fact." He says, his eyes never straying from yours.
"And you are?" He ponders after a moment of silence from you. You jump at the question, having been too distracted by the look of his lips to even notice he was speaking. You clear your throat and adjust your posture. "Y/N L/N." You answer shyly.
"Well, Y/N L/N, can I take you to a room and clean up the mess I made of your top, or is that entirely too forward for a gentleman to ask within mere moments of meeting?" He grins, the alcohol he consumed only ebbing on his already large confidence when it comes to women. You only nod shyly, afraid that if you speak you will make a stuttering fool of yourself.
He offers an arm, which you take happily, and begins to lead you through the party.
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He pulls you into a room and, almost immediately, his hands encompass your waist. "You... are the most stunning woman I have ever had the pleasure of looking at." He murmurs, sending your heart soaring. You rest your hand on his chest, newly emboldened by the liquid courage you have been sipping on the entire night, returning his cheeky smile. "Is it too forward for a lady to say the same within mere moments of meeting?" You return.
He lets out a chuckle when you parrot his past words and he leans down. "A witty woman as well as a beautiful one, what else do you have up your sleeve Miss L/N?" He purrs, running a flattened hand up your back until it meets your hair. He tugs it down from its pins, sending it tumbling over your shoulders.
"Perhaps, if you are lucky Mister Bridgerton, I shall show you." You whisper, leaning in so your lips are but a hair's width away from his. Something dangerous and incredibly intoxicating passes over his features as he lets out a noise, a growl, that causes your core to dampen.
"You are a very forward woman, Y/N. I find it quite... infatuating to say the very least." He whispers before capturing your lips. You close your eyes and tangle one of your hands in his thick hair, the other finding his collar and giving it a slight tug.
He groans into your mouth, his hands enveloping your bum cheeks and pulling you even closer. He wants to feel the rise and fall of your breasts as he makes you pant. And by god does he.
You moan into his mouth as his hands squeeze the soft skin of your ass through your trousers, which gives him the perfect chance to slip his tongue into your mouth. He tastes smoky, like cigars and whiskey. It makes your clit throb painfully.
As if reading your mind, and body, he spreads your legs with his knee and slides his leg between them. His thigh presses against your closed cunt and you gasp, breaking the kiss to throw your head back. He smirks and holds you right where you are by moving his hands to your hips.
"So sensitive." He whispers and groans as you begin to move your hips back and forth against his thigh, chasing the feeling it gives you. "Fuck, you are just full of surprises aren't you darling? I did not even have to tell you what to do, you just did it," He praises, his eyes locked on the place where your clothed core meets his leg.
"Riding my thigh like a bitch in heat. I might have to keep you." He gusts over your shoulder as he begins to kiss the exposed skin there. Oh God, how you would love that. To be able to fuck him whenever you saw fit, yes please Mister Bridgerton. "Please." Is all you manage to strangle out as you begin to grind down on him harder.
He bites down on your shoulder, leaving a bright red mark there, which he smirks at before he slowly guides you to the dark red chaise that lies in the corner of the room. He lays you back, slowly unlacing your corset with his slender fingers. He throws it across the room when it is off, his mouth immediately taking in one of your hardened nipples.
You cry out when he sucks, watching him look up at you with a shit-eating grin that makes your cunt even more soaked than it already is. He sucks and bites your bud before turning his attention to the other, giving it just as much attention. "The least I can do is clean up the mess I made." He whispers over your nipple, the vibrations sending waves of pleasure straight down to your core. Cocky bastard, you think to yourself as you grip his hair.
You are a whimpering, moaning mess by the time his face returns over yours. He presses a sloppy, open-mouthed kiss to your lips before sitting up and stripping himself of his suspenders and his shirt before returning his attention to you. He takes off your shoes and then unbuttons your trousers, slowly sliding them down your legs.
He groans lewdly at the sight. Genevieve had insisted quite heavily when she was dressing you up that you forgo panties. She said it made trousers more comfortable, less tight, so of course you agreed. You decide tonight, that if wearing no underwear will illicit that pretty noise from his lips, you will never wear them again.
"God you are soaked. Drenched from riding my thigh and a quick suck to your nipples." He whispers as he kisses the insides of your thighs. You whine and buck your hips up toward his face, which results in him quickly grabbing your hips with one of his hands and pressing you down into the cushion so you are unable to buck and writhe. "Perhaps I was right in my assessment of you, Miss Y/N. You really are just a bitch in heat. So desperate to be full of my cock, painted with my seed." He murmurs before licking a stripe up your slit.
You cry out and grip his hair with both hands, needing something to ground yourself as his tongue swirls around your clit. He lets out a growl at the taste of your dripping cunt, so sweet and yet so tart. Utter perfection. The noise you make in return has him wishing he could drink from your body for the rest of his days, die with you sat atop his face. Riding his mouth to oblivion.
He moves his hand down to his trousers, fumbling with the buttons to free his aching cock. He slides two fingers into your body without warning and you keen, your eyes rolling back as he collects your juices. He pulls his fingers out just as quick as they went in, and spreads your wetness on his length, stroking himself hard as he drinks from you.
"Ben... oh fuck.... so close." You babble as his tongue presses inside your hole, drawing the most heavenly noises from your body. He pulls away just as you start to see stars and you grasp at his hands, tears forming in your eyes from your denied release. "Please... Please..." You sob, desperate for the feeling to come back.
He chuckles deeply, hooking your knees over his shoulders. "I've got you, love." He assures, kissing away your tears before pulling back with a cocky grin that sends your heart fluttering. "You look like a masterpiece, crying for my cock. All flushed and swollen." He murmurs. You do not know if he is talking about you or your pussy, but you never wish for him to stop.
"Please, my lord. Please, please... I need you. I need..." You babble, completely free of any thought other than his pretty dick plunging inside of you. He curses and bends down, claiming your lips with his before thrusting into you without warning. He bottoms out, and both of you moan, the kiss becoming a mess of tongue and tooth alike.
He begins at a brutal pace, slamming into you so hard that the chaise creeks against the hardwood floor. You scream at the heavenly feeling of pain and pleasure, the sound muffled over his lips. Sweat splashes from his collarbone to yours as the sound of skin slapping against skin fills the room, the sickly sweet smell of sex enveloping your senses.
He grunts and breaks the kiss, holding one of your legs by the calf, his other hand cupping your jaw. Your mouth falls open as soon as his lips are gone, a loud moan coming from somewhere deep within slipping out before you can try and stop it. He grunts and sticks his thumb past your lips, afraid that someone will hear from outside the thin walls.
You happily oblige and close your lips around his digit, swirling your tongue around him to the rhythm of his thrusts. He moans at the sight of you sucking on his thumb like it's a cock, as his cock slams into your pretty pussy. "Fuck. I am keeping you. You are mine," He accentuates the word with a slap to your ass cheek, causing you to cry out over his finger and clench down on his cock. "Forever. No one else will ever-fuck.-be able to fill this sweet hole of yours. It is all mine. You are all mine." He grunts as his thrusts become sloppy.
He yanks his thumb from your mouth and attacks your swollen, throbbing, clit. He rubs it hard and fast, to match the rhythm of his thrusts and you cry out. He quickly intuits that you are as close to climax as he is and bends down, covering your lips with his own so that you can scream freely.
You do as he expected, letting out a long scream into his mouth as stars rush over your vision and your body burns hot. Your juices soak both his pant-covered leg and the velvety fabric of the chaise below. The feeling of your fluttering cunt tightening even further sends him over and he releases deep inside you before he goes limp over your body.
He pushes himself up after a moment, relishing in the sight below him. Your cheeks are flushed, lips swollen and bruised. You have a bite mark on your shoulder, your hair surrounding your head like a messy halo. Perfection. A ruined, beautiful, masterpiece made solely by him.
He brushes the hair out of your face and presses a sweet kiss to your brow. "Might I be privy to those many secrets you were so keen on hiding, Miss L/N?" He teases softly, grabbing a handkerchief from his pocket and beginning to clean the mess of mixed juices on your thighs.
You giggle. "The next time we meet, I promise to tell at least one." You return, your heart fluttering at the way he so delicately slides your trousers back over your legs after cleaning you up. He grins as he buttons them up, his hands encompassing your waist to pull you up to a sitting position.
You use the opportunity to wrap your arms around his neck, and it is his turn to laugh. "Next time, then. I will wait with held breath until then, I assure you." He whispers, helping you into your corset. "But for now, I owe you a lovely night, hm?" He murmurs as he pulls the laces of your corset tight. You sigh and nod. "I would like that very much." You whisper back, resting your head on his shoulder.
He smiles cheekily, "Is it entirely too forward for a gentleman to say he would like to do this every night from now on, mere hours after meeting?" He whispers in your ear, sending a shiver down your spine.
No, Mister Bridgerton, it is not.
788 notes · View notes
sukunasweetheart · 6 months
Text
actor!sukuna!!!
warnings; fem reader, jjk manga spoilers, a bit of both submissive and dominant sukuna, and also sukuna who loves his domineering wife a little too much, smut and fluff at the end, breeding, choking, use of collar and leash (on sukuna), rough sex, lots of teasing and provoking
i really really adore the trope where actors who play utterly vile, evil villain roles all the time simply bc of their intimidating appearance but their real personality is rather sweet and gentle, and i desperately want to apply this to sukuna. they would've probably needed to cast a whole different man for his trueform, which is what inspired this idea <3<3
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actor!sukuna is oh so very notorious for his antagonistic roles, always always being the charismatic, devilish character in any film, tv series or dramas he's casted in, the ones that always somehow has the upper hand, who never shows care for anyone else, who always seems to have control over everything in all situations he's put into...
and the recent hit series 'jujutsu kaisen' is exactly the same. with him being the king of curses, having those extra cgi arms and tummy mouth and having to spend hours before shooting simply doing the makeup for the distorted side of his face. not to mention all those tattoos!
actor!sukuna, who loves his job, but sometimes gets exhausted by the kinds of roles he has to play. he's gotten so used to it, his normal facial expressions and mannerisms also may have changed a little because at times he gets himself too immersed into his character
and you might say fiction doesnt cross over to real life at the best of times, but for sukuna, it might not be the case... he's noticed over the years that people around him do truly get scared or intimidated by him. and like any celebrity, he has his own fair share of haters.
with his character's newest victim being the fans' beloved gojo satoru, it only aggravated them-- and he knew from the moment he read the script that he was going to get flamed for it. he's used to this but because of jjk's intense popularity, he actually gets a little concerned this time around...
thankfully, thankfully! he has a wife he can run home to and seek comfort from, and fully let go of this fictional persona of his.
actor!sukuna, who is often burdened with the unconscious expectations from others, to have his intimidating aura and always have control over situations (maybe sometimes people)...
but he is able to put all of this down in front of you and just lay in your lap in front of the tv as you play with his pink curls.
oh, he's so grateful for his wife, who fulfills his hidden desires... his wife, who didn't see him only by his villainous roles, but also took notice of his gentler side and decided to grab hold onto that part of him with an iron grip instead.
actor!sukuna may be a man well over two metres tall, with a resting bitch face and a deep, velvety voice perfect for being a natural dominant and aggressive lover-- which, sometimes he is of course, when the situation calls for it (whenever you feel like you want to be dominated) - but in actuality, he aches to be controlled for the most part, rather than the one controlling...
when he told you about his worries of his real life reputation, of how people on set seem to avoid him subtly, and get a bit over-polite with him, you sent a handful of extravagant food and drink trucks over to the shooting set in sukuna's name, raising the spirits of his colleagues, the camera and film crew members etc., and of course, sukuna himself.
and everytime he has any complaints about his job, you comfort him by saying that if he ever feels like it's too much, he can quit anytime he wants, because you'd be happy to be him support financially as long as he'd be your househusband *wink wink*
actor!sukuna laughs at the thought, but there are times where he seriously considers it... he is getting older, and sometimes doing all these action scenes as the villain is taxing on his body... (perhaps after jjk is over, he'll take a well deserved, long break from his career for a little while)
before getting married, from the moment sukuna first interacted with you, he was already hooked- you flirted with him openly without expecting him to take lead, and you talked less about his various identities in his shows, but showed more curiosity in his true self, and he was simply attracted to your... fearlessness?
and a part of him tried to fight against it too, but you were simply too charismatic. (it only charmed him more)
"you're an awfully cocky woman. you sure you can take me on?"
"take you on? oh, no, handsome. you'll be the one taking me on. i'll have you wrung out dry by the end of this week... if you'll let me, of course."
and that, he did.
fast forward to the present.
sukuna had come home without erasing all the makeup from his filming of jjk, to your curiosity...
"the king of curses, was it? the name of this character," you ask with a relaxed voice, watching as sukuna's large cock throbs between his legs, drooling precum messily into his boxers. ironically, you're the one lying against your back on the bed, with him hovering over your body longingly, but not being permitted to touch you... yet.
you'd put a collar around his neck. and you have him leashed, with the rope being in your hand. he has you between his arms that are supporting his body weight... muscles flexing and sweat dripping down his skin from his own arousal.... he was supposed to be tired from today's filming session but right now, his whole body is heating up like boiling water in a kettle. how cruel of you to do this to him, right after he gets home from work.
you loop the rope around your fingers once, and tug on the leash harshly, making his face shift closer to yours.
"i'd like to hear an answer, please."
"...yes, the king of curses," sukuna hisses, eyeing the leash that both turns him on and also pisses him off simultaneously.
"interesting..." you hum with a smile, gently touching the fabricated side of his face that's been made with make up.
"i do have to say, the tattoos and black nails fit you so well, my love."
sukuna remains silent as he resists the urge to kiss you, with your lips hovering so close to his.
"don't fuck me with your eyes, honey. you're making yourself too obivous," you tease, ghosting your fingers over his chest, touching him languidly. his dick swells even more.
"darling, please... i need to touch you," sukuna says, softspoken and yearning so hard it makes him dizzy.
"oh... i love when you beg like that. what would your fans think, if they saw their most cold-blooded villain pleading me like this?"
with a collar and leash on, no less.
"it wouldn't matter what they think. you're the only one i love," he responds, shuddering as you nudge your knee against the erection in his pants.
"i like that answer."
you kiss him, which is an act that means you're permitting him to finally lay his hands on you - and this breaks the restraint he'd been holding onto until now.
sukuna kisses you back with a throaty growl, slipping his tongue in to smother you with, as your lips are curled up into a pleased smile. drunk on the taste of you, he doesn't stop kissing until he's had his fill. both of you are breathing heavily when he finally pulls away, his face being flushed beautifully.
large hands come to tug away at your clothes, exposing the swell of your chest, and he clamps his lips around one of your nipples, like a man starving... you gasp, and tug at his soft hair from the back, the other hand still gripping onto the rope that connects with his collar.
you arch your back when he nips on them a little, earning him a hiss from you and another harsh tug at his leash. when he comes up to face you once again, he's wearing a smirk with foggy eyes, satisfied with this small payback.
once he finally comes around to releasing his strained cock, he gives a sigh of relief. the tip is glistening with his precum, and he wants to be buried in your cunt so bad. he slides it in with one go.
"oof, always so big, aren't you?" you tell him, feeling his throbbing dick reach so deep inside. it's not your first time saying such a thing, so he knows you mean it as a compliment. it inflates his ego.
"fuck- you feel so good," he mumbles mindlessly, pushing your thighs back.
sukuna begins to thrust into you, his heavy balls slapping down against your ass as he starts with a slow pace. another tug of his leash gets him to stop again.
"c'mon, love. is that all you can do?" you urge him, your grip still strong on his rope. he narrows his eyes, and pushes your thighs back harder, and begins to slam his hips into you, the way you love it.
"f-fuck... harder, sukuna... harder-" you moan as you keep taunting him with several pulls of his leash.
"tug that thing one more time..." he mutters with a low, out of breath voice, "and i'll make you regret it."
you love it when he's submissive, but even more so when he's in the mood to put his foot down. but you're not giving in so easily. you give it another tug, playfully.
"try me."
from then on, he snaps and decides he'll give you your own "collar".
his hand.
you squeal in delight as he roughs you up from his grip on your throat, to the biting, and to the bruising pace of his thrusts, all harmonising to bring you to your orgasm...
when sukuna cums, he does so right against your cervix, spilling all his thick, hot seed into your womb, with a loud groan. he's sucking a hickey onto your shoulder as he does so, full body shuddering with each clench of his balls as he dumps more into you. your pussy squeezes around him, fingernails digging deeply into his muscled back, feeling blissful.
he soon collapses onto you, and you start playing with his hair again, as he rests momentarily, being spent after the rough sex that happened when he'd just come back home. you'll need to reward him later for this.
in the bathroom, you help him scrub away all those tattoos, and tear off that falsified right side of his face. he appreciates this, especially the ones on his back that are difficult to reach. in the tub, you sit between his legs, and lean back as he dotes on you, calloused hands not leaving anywhere of you untouched.
once the bathing is finished, you do his nightly skin care routine for him. an actor's gotta preserve their skin, you know. before the moisturizer though, you press a soft kiss onto his pure face, clean of tattoos, and hum with a pleased expression.
"i love this one more, after all."
he huffs out a chuckle and pulls you onto his lap.
"hah. the king of curses ought to cry real tears with envy."
he clings onto you all night, face buried into your chest, indulging in the feeling of being the little spoon.
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Tagging: @yuujispinkhair and @gojos-thot-patrol (who encouraged the leash idea...)
credit and link to the cute heart dividers here
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rafesfavgirl · 8 days
Text
the palm of your freezing hand — r. cameron
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part 1. part 2. this could technically be part 2 or 3, depending on how much of this little series you've read (or if you’re not into reading smut). either way, thank you for coming along for the ride. i hope you like it :)
❝ oh, goddamn my pain fits in the palm of your freezing hand ❞
pairing: friend!rafe x pogue!reader
context: it's been three weeks since you found out jj cheated on you, and a week since you hooked up with rafe.
words: 1.4k+
warnings: fwb situationship, mean!jj (just for the sake of the story, we all know he’s BABY), bitchy!kie (again, just for the story—i adore her), jealous!jj, slut shaming, a little bit of angst, a little bit of blood and violence, fluff. rafe being a menace too, lowkey
you sat on a log at a party in the boneyard—one that you let john b and pope convince you to go to (you felt bad for icing them out for almost three weeks now when they weren't the ones who screwed you over)—staring out towards the ocean in a red bikini top and a pair of jean shorts, sipping on some beer that john b had brought over to you in a red cup.
he was now occupied talking to some blonde touron, sitting up in a tree, while pope talked to some other girl by the keg, and jj and kie chilled with a few other pogues, his arm slung around her shoulder.
so much for claiming to love you—he was just on his knees begging you to forgive him last week. and now, he was here with your best friend—former best friend, anyway. the two of them really had no shame.
pulling your phone out of your pocket, you begin to text rafe.
you: please tell me you're on your way.
rafe: miss me already?
you roll your eyes at his response. last weekend, after your break up with jj, you made the somewhat idiotic decision to hook up with rafe at a kook party on figure eight. you're still not exactly sure how it happened, but the sex was good, so you've kinda formed a sort of friendship with him in a way—with benefits, of course.
the three dots appear again, signaling that he was typing something else, and you wait for the message to come through.
rafe: turn around.
you furrow your brow at the text, but do as you're told and turn around, only to find a smiling rafe standing over you—dressed in a ralph lauren, short-sleeve, white collared shirt and a pair of khaki shorts.
"hey pretty girl," he greets you as you stand.
little did you know, jj was watching from afar, his eyes focused on the way you throw your arms around rafe's neck in a hug, while his hands trailed around your waist to press your body against him.
"what the fuck?" jj mutters beside kie, who snaps her head towards him.
"what's up?" she asked.
"what is he doing here?" jj felt heat rise in his chest, his eyes narrowing at you and rafe.
kie furrowed her brows at him in confusion before following his line of sight to you and rafe a good distance away, you playfully pushing against his chest with a giggle.
"shit," kie says. "i didn't see that coming."
"yeah that makes two of us," jj slams his empty cup down on the ground and stands up without another word, beelining straight for you and rafe.
"so this is why you wanted to break up," you hear jj's familiar voice fill your ears, but it wasn't sweet and sarcastic as usual—it was bitter.
you shift your eyes towards him, causing rafe to turn too, to see what or who had just pulled your attention from him.
"excuse me?" you asked.
"rafe cameron, y/n?" he snarled. "seriously? i thought you knew better than that."
"clearly i don't, considering i trusted you," you spat, causing a scowl to fall over his sharp features. "and by the way, we didn't break up because i wanted to be with rafe. we broke up because you cheated on me."
that makes rafe snap his head towards you—he knew that your relationship didn’t end on good terms, but you never really told him why. "he cheated on you?" 
"with kiara."
a scoff mixed with a snicker leaves rafe's mouth as he looks at jj. "you're an even bigger idiot than i thought."
"look, shut the fuck up, man, a'ight?" jj motions a hand at him. "this isn't about you. this is about you." he turns to you again. "you're really slutting yourself up for this asshole?"
"better than slutting myself up for a cheater," you retort. "and in case you haven't noticed jj, we're broken up. what's it to you if i'm hooking up with someone else?"
"and she is, by the way," rafe throws jj a wink and smirk. "you really fucked up. i mean, really fucked up. the way she feels bro? i don’t know how you coul—"
"shut up, man," jj was getting riled up now, a hand coming up to push rafe back, a deep chuckle falling from rafe's lips as he used both his hands to push jj back.
that's enough to push your ex-boyfriend to the edge as he comes at rafe, causing him to trip over a skinny log as both of them tumble onto the sand. the noise from the tussling only pulls attention from everyone else, john b and pope immediately running over to break the two hot-headed blonds apart.
you really had a type, huh?
"what did you do?" kie comes up beside you, along with a few pogues, kooks, and tourons—who had now formed a makeshift half-circle around the scene.
you look at her, more pissed off at her accusation than rafe and jj fighting. "what makes you think i did anything?"
"you usually always do," she says.
you cross your arms and scoff. "you're one to talk."
"and what's that suppose to mean?"
"it means you were supposed to be my best friend, kiara," you tell her. “and not only did you screw our friendship over, but you did it by fucking my boyfriend. no wonder sarah cameron dropped your ass.”
she purses her lips at you, upset by your mentioning of sarah’s name. “don’t act as if this is just all on me,” she argued. “you were the one who weaseled your way in, and stole him from me.”
“stole him?” you asked, taken aback. she was the one who set you up with him in the first place. “you’ve clearly reached different levels of delusional.”
“you think i'm delusional?" she spat, crossing her arms. "you're hooking up with rafe cameron. do you really think you'll get him to fall for a pogue like you?"
before you could even answer, rafe separates the two of you, bumping into you both as jj pushes him back, and you reach out to steady him.
"you think i'm scared of you, man?" jj shouts at him, john b holding him back.
rafe chuckles and wipes at the little bit of blood beside his now busted lip with his thumb. "i think you should be."
"get your fucking boyfriend, y/n!" jj yells, his eyes shifting from rafe to you.
"you got it," you nod at him with a smile, just to piss him off more—rafe wasn't your boyfriend, but he didn't have to know that. "you wanna get out of here?" you tilt your head up at rafe, who turns his head towards you and smiles. 
"lead the way, doll."
you do as he says, giving kie a small smirk as you walk past her and the makeshift crowd that had formed, everyone's eyes on the two of you.
"so… your boyfriend, huh?" rafe swings an arm around you and squeezes you to his side.
"chill, cameron," you laugh, pushing him away from you playfully. "i only said that to piss him off."
"so i'm just a toy to you then, is that what this is?" he asked, a small smile pulling at the corner of his lips as you both stop by his truck.
"that depends…" you trail off and turn to face him, your back resting against the passenger door of his truck. "am i just a toy to you?"
"i'm not sure yet," he shrugs, honestly. "i wouldn't have just taken a bloody lip and sand stains on my polo for anyone though."
you giggle and bring your thumb up to swipe at the beige-colored stain on his white shirt. "yeah, sorry 'bout that."
"no worries," he shakes his head, his eyes locking with yours. "i can think of one or two ways you could make it up to me."
"oh, is that so?" you kink a brow at him. "because i can tell you right now i don't have a hundred dollars to spare for a brand new ralph lauren polo shirt."
he leans a hand against his truck, beside your head, and closes the distance between you. "and who said that's what i wanted?"
you tilt your head to the side, an amused smile on your face. "then what did you have in mind?"
"let me take you out on date," he says. "a real one."
part 4.
writing rafe being soft for the reader is literally my favorite thing ever.
reblogs and comments are deeply appreciated <33
click here to be added to my tag list!!
tags: @sublimepenguinpeach-blog @immyowndefender @chiaraanatra
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ma1dita · 10 days
Text
pushover
luke castellan x dionysus!reader
a/n: usually you’re the one stitching Luke up but the one time he gets to do it for you, he knows you’re milking it. no trouble!verse tags, can be standalone -> she’s an ACTRESS okay? who tf wouldn’t want luke to kiss a booboo; this was a forgotten draft for my partners in crime series feel free to read
wc: 1.2k
“OWWWW!”
The sun shines again on Camp Half-Blood peeking through Luke’s dark curls as he towers over you, laughing from his position above. Your knee is scraped after cushioning your fall, or perhaps your attack, after Luke thought it’d be funny to push you again as he walked past.
Well, today’s been kind of boring, so might as well make the most of it right? 
As a daughter of Dionysus, you do love to put on a good show.
There’s a glimmer of mischief in your eye as you do your best to convince him that he’s maimed you but as his eyes fall to the slightly aggravated skin, Luke sighs at the way you look like a kicked puppy, lower lip jutting out as you squint up at him.
“Stop being so overdramatic. It wasn’t that serious.”
“YOU SHOVED ME INTO A BUSH!” 
The howl that leaves your throat catches the attention of other campers, who are familiar with your dramatics and your penchant for picking a fight with the son of Hermes. Luke sighs and runs his hands through his hair, groaning in embarrassment. 
Gods forbid he look like the bad guy.
“Seriously, trouble— you're acting like I pushed you off a cliff,” he grumbles finally crouching down to reach for your leg to check how serious it is. 
It’s not.
“You're a barbarian. Just because you think it's funny to push me around doesn't mean it actually is! Luke.... I can't walk! It feels like my bone is coming through. And I have so much work to do today, and now I'm gonna have to walk super slow…” you groan, still on the ground. Luke rolls his eyes and once he's checked the injury (the whole menacing palm-sized scrape) his expression softens the tiniest bit. He’s still kinda pissed off at you for being a drama queen though.
“Alright, it's not life-threatening so you're going to be fine. Look, I can carry you if I have to.”
Batting his hand away you roll your eyes, “Like I'd let you. You'd probably toss me into the lake again.” 
Luke smirks, “Probably, but I swear to the gods that I wouldn't do anything to maim you. Not on purpose at least.” It’s almost criminal how easy it is to get on your nerves—he thinks you’ve finally shut your trap until he watches you fake crawl away to get a reaction out of him. Quite frankly, it’s embarrassing to everyone watching so he scoops you into his arms like you weigh nothing. Luke chuckles softly, wrapping his arms tightly around your squirming frame so you won't fall as he begins walking.
“So difficult. I swear…”
“Me? Never!” you groan, flopping in his arms like a dead body. Your dead weight makes his arms strain a little but his muscles are fun to look at from any angle, so… 
You miss it when he starts speaking again, “You're too much, you know that?” A smirk grows upon your face, “And you can't get enough. The infirmary is the other way, Castellan....” Luke huffs as he turns 180 towards the infirmary, sighing softly at the way you are sprawled in his arms. But he keeps quiet because he knows how to pick and choose his battles. Something about the realization that he’d only do this for you makes him bite his lip in thought. But you think he’s trying to not laugh at you.
“What? You maim me and then you make fun of me? Haven't you done enough?” The words slip by as you peek at him through one open eye, his cheeks flushed and rosy. Hopefully, his brawn won’t expire on the short trek to the infirmary.
“You're lucky I don't drop you right now,” Luke jostles you with a lopsided grin he can’t hide anymore and it steadily gets bigger at the sound of your surprise.
“Don't you DARE, Luke Castellan!” 
Grabbing onto his mop of curls, the boy winces as his nose brushes against your wrist, and the shockwaves it sends through your system are enough to send you reeling. Maybe it’s the way you almost sway with each step he takes, smooth and steady like a sailboat even when he’s carrying you like this.
He ends up having to carry you inside the infirmary and the Apollo kids on shift stop and stare at their two best counselors in the doorway. Luke tries to ignore them, setting you down on an empty cot and getting the medical supplies he needs to treat your wound. He looks at you propped on the bed like a little princess, cross-legged and fluttering eyelashes waiting for him to clean you up. It's not serious enough for ambrosia, he thinks, so he grabs an alcohol wipe instead.
Luke looks like he's trying his hardest not to smirk as he grabs your leg and begins carefully cleaning the scrape.
“Ow! Gentle! When I patch you up after you spar I don't do it maliciously!”
“I am being gentle, stop wriggling!” Luke grits his teeth as he continues to wipe the drying blood away. He's trying to be careful, but he's clearly irritated that you're not making this easy for him.
Tossing your knee over his lap and getting closer, suddenly you go quiet at the proximity. There’s something intimate about being tended to so delicately in a room filled with people. A quiet in the chaos reserved for only the two of you.
“So what, you think I'm too good for ambrosia? Sending me off to heal like a mortal— what type of nurse are you?”
“You drunk on ambrosia for a scrape would definitely make your dad thrilled and have the both of us cleaning the stables for the rest of the week,” Luke lets out a brief snicker as he meets your gaze, rolling your eyes as you lean against the wall. His hand unconsciously rubs circles into the skin above your knee, featherlight yet firm at the same time. You try to ignore the goosebumps that rise in its wake.
Luke doesn't say anything about it while he continues to look at you. He realizes that you look quite pretty even with windswept hair and dirt on your cheek, but he can't let you see that he's noticed. Something shifts in the air of the infirmary, more overpowering than the smell of antiseptic and it bubbles in both of your chests, overflowing and seeping into the small space between you.
Not bad for a boring day, you suppose. You make him piggyback you for the rest of the day in an attempt to guilt-trip him. But the huge smile on his face has all of your campers thinking otherwise.
The next day, he sees you walking perfectly fine. In fact, with the way you’re rushing to scold a Hephaestus kid for almost setting the armory on fire, he’s not sure he’s ever seen you move that fast in your life.
Warmth settles on your cheeks as your eyes dart between the kid you’re yelling at and Luke’s narrowing eyes from afar, and you can’t quite tell if the rush of emotions is from what you’re doing versus who you’re really looking at.
Maybe the next time he pushes you around he’ll find out.
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andvys · 7 months
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I knew you'd linger like a tattoo kiss | part 11
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Warnings: none really, mentions of smoking and drinking, reader punching someone....
Pairings: Steve Harrington x fem!cheerleader!reader , Steve Harrington x Nancy Wheeler , slight Eddie Munson x fem!reader
Summary: Steve watches you from afar, confused about your relationship with the metalhead.
Word count: 4.9k
A/N: @mysticmunson you're always my biggest help and inspiration, thank you, angel🤍
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-
“Will you hold still?”
“I’m sorry!” 
“Why are you so shaky?”
“I-I don’t know.”
You drop the eyeshadow brush on the desk and put your hand on your hip, sighing as you look at Chrissy who looks more nervous than ever. She is still wearing a hoodie, the cheer uniform is hanging over the back of your chair. You have been trying to do her eye makeup for the past twenty minutes.
“Lay down.”
Her eyebrows shoot up, confusion takes over her face, “why?”
“Because I can’t work like this, you keep fidgeting – seriously, what’s up? You are never this nervous.” 
You and Chrissy always get ready together whenever there’s a basketball game. Usually she does her makeup herself but tonight she asked you to do it, she wanted something similar like you, just with more color.
She seemed happy and excited when she came over but now she seems like a nervous mess. Every time you move closer to her, she starts fidgeting, it’s not the first time you had noticed her doing that. You have noticed a lot in the past three months. 
Heather and Chrissy kept being secretive, oftentimes you would catch them whispering before they’d notice you in the room, they share glances that you don’t understand. They still make you feel left out. You confronted them a while back but neither of them gave you any answers to your questions, it upset you and it caused you to distance yourself from them a little. 
They had started to make you feel the way he made you feel. The constant lies, the whispers and them going behind your back had gotten to you. It triggered some feelings that you thought you had left in the past. 
They were upset when you stopped answering their phone calls and when you would cancel plans but you couldn’t be around them when they refused to talk about the very obvious issues they had with you. You would never drop the friendship, you would never leave them behind, they mean too much to you to just kick them out of your life but you needed some distance, for your sake. 
You made a new friend, Robin Buckley. Eddie introduced you to her back in January, they had been friends since middle school – back when he was still a theater kid. 
You instantly hit it off with her, she is nice and she is very different from Chrissy and Heather, which is why she didn’t feel comfortable hanging out with them yet. It’s a miracle that she gave you a chance considering that ‘popular’ people make her feel extremely anxious and uncomfortable – which you can understand now that you see things from a different perspective.
To most people, you are still the ‘the queen of Hawkins High’ but to some you are one of the freaks now. They glare at you, they whisper about you, they call you names and point their fingers at you, especially when they see you with Eddie, who feels guilty about the treatment you are getting from some of the people that used to be in your friend group when you were still with Steve. You don’t care though. 
You don’t care what other people think of you. 
But you do care what your friends think about you, your friends who still keep secrets. 
“Yeah Chrissy, why are you so nervous?” Eddie chuckles as he looks up from his magazine, glancing at the two of you. Wiggling his eyebrows at her. She glares at him and rolls her eyes, which only makes him chuckle again. 
Eddie knows why she is so nervous, it’s obvious why – well, it’s obvious to everyone but you. It didn’t take him long to figure it out. The subtle glares and the attitude he sometimes gets from the usually nice cheerleader isn’t because she doesn’t like him, it’s because she is jealous of him. Because she likes you. 
And she knows that he knows, she realized it after he started teasing her with small comments and the smug looks he would throw at her when he’d catch her checking you out. At first, she was scared. Scared that he would tell you something that she had been trying to hide for so long. Eddie promised not to tell though. 
Chrissy lies down, a small huff leaves her lips. You get on the bed and scoot closer to her, reaching for the eyeshadow brush, you dip it into the blue eyeshadow before you lean down. 
She is looking at you – staring at you. 
“Close your eyes,” you chuckle. 
“O-Oh right,” she whispers and closes her eyes. 
Eddie puts the magazine down, he leans back in his chair and puts his arm behind his head. He looks at you, you are already wearing your uniform, your hair and makeup is already done. He watches the way you bend down to get closer to Chrissy, your skirt rides up a little, exposing your spandex and more of your skin. He really really doesn’t want to look at you in that way but he can’t look away either. 
You are his friend and he really loves your friendship and how easy things are between the two of you but you are beautiful. 
And you are sexy. 
You suddenly turn around and glance at him, you catch him staring at you. Eddie’s eyes widen but he plays it cool, smirking at you. Your eyes flash with amusement, you raise your brows at him, a smirk tugs at your lips. 
“Stop staring, Munson.”
Eddie gives you a cocky grin, “I can’t look away from a beautiful sunset.”
You furrow your brows and a laugh escapes your lips, you shake your head at him, “what does that even mean, you dork?” 
You turn back around, still smiling. Chrissy snorts at his words. 
“Okay, tell any sane person to look away from two cheerleaders straddling,” he says. 
“Eddie!” Chrissy mumbles, opening her eyes to look at you with a disapproving frown. 
You grab one of your pillows and turn around, throwing it at him, “perv!” You laugh.
He catches it and presses it against his chest, he smirks at you, “can you do my eyeshadow too, sweetheart?” He jokes.
“Shut up,” you chuckle as you turn back around. You reach for your makeup bag and look for the glitter you bought when you went shopping with Robin, yesterday.
Chrissy leans on her elbows, she glances at Eddie who is checking you out again and then her eyes move back to you. She can see the shine in your eyes, the smile that you are trying to bite back, the flustered look on your face. 
It annoys her. 
Eddie is amazing and with him, you would actually be in good hands. He is a much better person than Steve ever was. He wouldn’t hurt you, especially not the way he did. Eddie makes you smile, he spends more time with you than Steve did, he buys you little presents that he surprises you with, all the time. He takes you out on dates that ‘clearly’ aren’t dates because you are just friends. Eddie comes to basketball games – he comes to basketball  games, just for you.
Eddie would be a good boyfriend, there is no doubt about that. She is not sure if you like each other or not but it seems like it. She should be happy for you and she should support it but the green eyed monster inside of her just refuses to let her be happy for you. 
“Are you excited for the party?”
Chrissy snaps out of her thoughts, she looks into your eyes again and nods. 
“Are you gonna wear the dress you bought?” 
She closes her eyes again when you lean back in with the brush. She feels your fingertips on her cheek when you tilt her face to the side. She takes in a shaky breath. 
“Should I?” 
You hum. 
“You look pretty in it.”
She smiles at your words, “I do?”
“Yes, you always do, Chris.”
She blushes and her smile grows bigger, “thank you,” she whispers. 
You smile down at her, “you’re welcome.”
After you finish her makeup, Chrissy takes her uniform and goes into your bathroom to get changed. You clean up the small mess and put away all the makeup and the brushes, you grab your favorite lipstick and walk over to the mirror, you can feel his eyes on you as you start applying the lipstick. A smile tugs at your lips, you glance at him through the mirror. He’s wearing the same smile as you. 
“What?” 
He shakes his head, scratching the back of his neck, “nothing.”
You furrow your brows, you smack your lips together and look at your reflection one more time before you turn around to face him. 
“Why are you smiling?” 
He shrugs and gets up from the chair, he grabs the green hair bow and walks towards you. 
“I like watching you get ready,” he says. 
“You do?” You smile. 
He nods, “mhmm.”
He stops in front of you and looks down at you as he holds up the green hair bow, “turn around.”
You turn around, facing the mirror again. He steps closer to you. You can smell his cologne, it’s a new one. It smells even better than the previous one he used. The smell of smoke always lingers around him though, nothing can hide the smell – not the cologne, not the aftershave, not his shampoo which surprisingly smells like apples, not the cinnamon from his favorite gum. 
Eddie’s hands are gentle, his brows are furrowed in concentration, he presses his lips together as he puts the bow in your hair. 
Something about this makes you giggle. Eddie being in your bedroom isn’t unusual but him helping you get ready for the game, putting a bow in your hair is very unusual. 
His eyes flash with amusement as he raises his head to look at your reflection in the mirror, “what’s so funny?”
You shrug and continue watching him, “just you helping me get ready for a laundry basket game.” 
He snorts. 
“I’m helping you get ready for your performance and I’m only going there for you, sweets.” 
Your heart warms at his words. 
“And then you’re also coming to the bonfire party with me.” 
“With you.” He nods. 
“Alright, I’m done,” he grins and flicks your ponytail before he wraps his arms around you and pulls you into a tight hug, leaning his chin on your shoulder, causing you to giggle again. 
You grab his forearms and lean back. 
“Do you hug all your friends that way?”
He chuckles and pulls you even closer, “nah only the special ones, babe,” he smirks and buries his face in your neck, breathing in the smell of your perfume and body wash. 
You giggle and tilt your head to the side, “how many special ones are there?” 
“Just one.”
You narrow your eyes as you turn to look at him, he smirks at you still. 
“You’re my very special one.” 
He isn’t joking about that, despite the teasing look on his face, he is saying the truth. You are special to Eddie. You haven’t been friends for that long, you started talking last summer, back in august but you have only gotten really close after your breakup with Steve. It feels like you have been friends for much longer than that though. The moment you first started hanging out, you instantly got attached to each other. Not a single day goes by when you don’t spend time together, he loves being with you and you love being with him. 
Things feel natural, easy and just good when you are with each other. 
You look into each other's eyes for a moment, not speaking, not moving, not doing anything. Sometimes that’s enough. 
A smile tugs at your lips as you look at him. His smile grows as well and before you know it, you both start laughing for no reason. 
Chrissy walks back into the room to see you in his embrace. She clenches her jaw and rolls her eyes in annoyance. She clears her throat. 
You and Eddie look away from each other, the smile still ever present on your faces. You don’t notice the jealousy or the bitterness on her face. He does. 
“Can we go?” 
You glance at Eddie who nods at you with a shrug. He is definitely not excited for the game, you told him that he doesn’t have to go but he claimed that he wants to go, for you.  
You smile at them both, “let’s go!”
-
Things between Steve and Billy were tense all night. You could tell from the moment they walked out into the gym, the glares they sent each other were more intense than usual, they wouldn’t pass on any opportunity to ‘accidentally’ bump into each other and not to mention Steve’s bleeding nose, he tried to hide it but he kept wiping his nose and you noticed the blood on the back of his hand. 
He looked angry and frustrated. You noticed it, right away. 
She didn’t. 
Despite the tension and the weird energy that surrounded one of the best players on the team, they still won against the opposing team and took another win home, which of course has to be celebrated.
Lovers Lake is filled with people, the bonfire party that had been planned for weeks is in full swing, loud music is sounding through the speakers, the smell of burning wood mixed with the smell of the crisp spring air brings you comfort. The cold months are over and the warm weather is finally approaching. 
The beer you have been drinking all night makes you feel a little tipsy but you feel calm and the stars in the sky make you smile as you lay on the grass with Eddie. He lights up a cigarette and blows the smoke up into the air. 
You turn your head and look around, a few people are sitting by the fire. You see Chrissy and Heather talking to a few girls from the cheer squad. You see Nancy sitting on a log with Jonathan, they are both laughing, leaning closer to each other, Steve is sitting on a different log, he is holding a red solo cup in his hand, he looks into the fire with a dull look on his face. 
You raise your brows, you look at the three of them. Odd. Shouldn’t he be the one next to her? Shouldn’t he be the one whispering to her? Shouldn’t he be the one making her laugh? 
“Do you think there’s more out there?” Eddie asks, pulling your attention away from him. 
“Hmm?” 
Eddie repeats his question and you turn back to look at him, he is pointing up at the sky, “like aliens and shit.”
You scoot closer to him, looking at the way he squints his eyes as he smokes. 
“Hmm, maybe,” you shrug, “I think there’s more than just aliens though.”
“Oh, do you?” He asks, turning to face you, “tell me more.”
“I think there’s other universes.”
He raises his brows, waiting for you to explain more. 
“I think there are different worlds, different versions of us – like, maybe there's a version of us fighting interdimensional monsters right now,” you joke, which he seems to love. 
His eyes light up at your words and he laughs. 
“Maybe we are slaying a dark wizard right now – what was his name again, Vecman? You know the one from your new campaign?” 
Eddie laughs loudly and he shakes his head, “it’s Vecna, sweetheart.” 
You roll your eyes and snort.
“Right, we are killing Vecna, right now.” 
“Are we normal humans or?”
“No, we have superpowers.”
“What kind of superpowers?” 
You put your finger on your chin and look up, “hmm… you got super strength, super speed,” you pause and look into his eyes, his skin looks pale beneath the moonlight, his eyes are dark. Your eyes widen, “you’re a vampire!” 
His jaw drops, his eyes widen, “I’m a vampire?” 
“Yes!”
“That means I had to die – wait! Did you bring me back from the dead? You know, since you’re a witch?”
"Absolutely,” you giggle. 
“That’s so sick, sweetheart.” 
“Right?” 
You both giggle as you stare at each other. His eyes fall to the chain around your neck, the one that he had put on you earlier tonight. He reaches his hand out and touches it. 
“Maybe we are both rockstars in a different world.” 
“Both of us?” You laugh, “I can see you being a rockstar but me?”
“Hush. You are helping me write songs and you can play guitar now – well a little, never as good as me but yeah,” he says, cockily. Smirking at you. 
You shake your head, snorting at his words. 
“Maybe you are my groupie.” 
“You wish!” You slap his shoulder, making him laugh again. 
“Okay okay, not a groupie – you are the lead singer and I’m the sexy guitarist.” 
“Mhmm.” 
You lie back again and look up at the stars, a grin takes over your face, “or maybe you are my groupie.”
“Oh absolutely, I’d totally be your groupie if you were a rockstar, y/n.”
You and Eddie are in your own little world, you always are. You don’t care about anything or anyone else when you are with each other. The rest of the world melts away when you spend time together. 
You don’t care about the people around you or the awful music that one of the jocks picked out, the prying eyes of the judging girls from the cheer squad. You just don’t care about anything. 
You don’t even notice the curious eyes of your ex boyfriend but Eddie does, after you get up to get a new drink. His eyes find a sulking Steve Harrington, who is still sitting by the fire. His girlfriend is long gone and so is her friend, Eddie doesn’t bother to look around for them. He keeps his eyes on Steve, watching the way his eyes follow you. Eddie wonders why he looks so miserable, because of Nancy and Jonathan or because of you? It seems to be the latter, he could be looking for her but instead he is watching you. 
A sigh falls from Eddie’s lips, how stupid can someone be? He wonders.
Suddenly, Steve straightens his back and his expression changes from miserable to curious and tense? He turns his head, looking right at him. Eddie raises his brows when he finds himself locking eyes with him. Steve looks confused, his eyes flicker back and forth between you and him. 
Eddie follows his gaze to see what confuses him so much. He is looking at you and at the guy who is shamelessly checking you out as you laugh at something he said to you.
Eddie snorts. Of course. If there is one thing that he got used to when going out with you then it’s you being hit on, every damn time. 
The guy is tall, probably taller than him. His shoulders are broad beneath the flannel, it’s clear that he’s some sort of athlete. He looks familiar but Eddie doesn’t recognize him. 
Curiously, Eddie watches the interaction from afar, sipping his beer. 
You are holding a drink in your hand, you have to crane your neck to look into his eyes. Eddie can see the smile on your face, you nod to whatever he is saying to you. He steps closer to you, pretending not to hear you properly, he leans closer and licks his lips when he looks down your shirt.
Eddie rolls his eyes, “douchebag.” 
The music is loud but he still hears the approaching footsteps, narrowing his eyes, he almost laughs in surprise when he sees Steve. Getting up, he dusts the grass off of his jeans and finishes his drink. 
Steve stops in front of him, when Eddie sees the look of disbelief on his face, he almost bursts out laughing. 
“I’m not selling tonight,” he mumbles. 
Steve shakes his head, furrowing his brows at his words, “I don’t wanna buy anything.”
“Oh, to what do I owe you the pleasure then, King Steve?” Eddie asks, mockingly. He expects Steve to look annoyed but he doesn’t, just very confused. 
“You’re not gonna do anything?” Steve asks. 
Eddie chuckles, his brows draw together and he tilts his head in question. 
“What do you mean?”
Steve raises his hand, pointing his finger at you and the guy who is now holding his hand out to you – you are writing something on his palm, presumably your number. 
Eddie rolls his eyes again. 
“This guy is flirting with her,” Steve mumbles.
“I’m not her keeper.” 
Now he looks even more confused, if he didn’t look so serious, Eddie would have laughed. But then he realizes why he looks at him so shocked. Steve must think that you and Eddie are dating and he doesn’t understand how he as your ‘boyfriend’ just lets you flirt with some other guy. 
Steve sighs, he turns around. Eddie watches the way he stares the guy down, a look of distaste appears on his face.
“That’s Ray, he used to be the captain of the basketball team. I always hated that guy.” Steve mumbles. 
That’s a lie. Steve used to look up to him, when he was a freshman in high school and he was new on the team, Ray had seemed like the coolest guy around, he was the most popular guy at school, the girls loved him, the boys wanted to be like him and so did Steve until he became popular too and he realized that he could be even better than him. Ray was just a popular guy but Steve Harrington became the King of the school. 
A title he used to be so proud of is just an embarrassing part of his past now. 
Steve is certain that you and Eddie are dating. He could just ask to be sure but he thinks that it’s too obvious. You are dating. But why are you flirting with the former captain of the basketball team? Why are you writing your number on his hand? Are you in an open relationship with Eddie? 
An open relationship is something you never approved of, you always made that very clear, not that Steve suggested something like this. Tommy always joked about it to Carol and you looked disgusted and always voiced your opinions on it. 
What happened? 
Did the hurt change you so much?
Ray walks away from you and you turn around, walking back to Eddie when someone else steps in front of you and both Eddie and Steve sigh in annoyance. 
Billy Hargrove. Always there to ruin the night. 
“Getting bored of the freak?” 
The smile on your face falls, a sour expression takes over and you tense up. You can’t stand Billy. Not only does he keep trying to get in your pants while he has a thing going on with your friend, he also keeps insulting Eddie and picking fights with Steve, which shouldn’t be any of your concerns but something tells you that Steve’s bleeding nose and the bruise on Billy’s jaw has got something to do with you. 
“Fuck off, Billy,” you mumble, trying to move past him. He doesn’t let you. He steps in front of you and chuckles. 
“Don’t be like that, baby.”
You scrunch your face up in disgust, “don’t call me that.”
His eyes move up and down, he looks at your exposed skin and you suddenly regret wearing a low cut shirt. 
“Ray Parker, huh?” He smirks, licking his lips, “going for the jocks again? The freak ain’t doing a good job at satisfying you? You know, you can just come to me instead of going for some retired team captain.”
“Jesus, shut up, Billy.”
Billy chuckles, his eyes twinkle with lust as he continues to stare at you, “when will you stop playing hard to get? We both know that you will end up under me at some point.” 
If you didn’t feel disgusted by him already, you would definitely be now. Anger rushes through you and you roll your eyes. 
“Keep dreaming, Hargrove.” 
"Oh, I will." 
You clench your jaw as you look into his blue eyes. You hate the cocky look on his face, the self assured expression that he always has. The smirk that he wears. God, you want to punch him. 
You go to walk past him and surprisingly, he lets you walk away this time but then he says something that makes your blood boil. 
“Yeah be a good girl and run back to the freak, no one else will fuck that loser.” 
You halt in your tracks and you clench your fists. You had always been protective over your friends but especially him. Eddie may be good at pretending that the bullying doesn’t get to him, he learned to ignore them or to throw some punchlines back but you are not going to stand by and watch how others degrade and belittle him. 
You turn back around and his smirk grows when he notices how angry you look. 
“I never thought you’d be into some trailer trash a–” 
You never punched someone before but you always wanted to know what it feels like to slam your fist into someone’s face, someone that you can’t stand. You didn’t think that it would hurt so bad but the look on his face and the bruise that he will wear later on, makes it all worth it. 
His head snaps to the side and he looks stunned for a moment. 
You hear the gasps around you, the chuckles from a few boys. 
A part of you expects him to hit you back, you are no stranger to his anger issues. The reaction you get isn’t one that you expected though. He furrows his brows and suddenly he bursts into laughter, his eyes flash with amusement and his pupils dilate even further. 
You want to punch him again. 
“Shit baby, I’m even more into you now,” he smirks. 
A groan of disgust falls from your lips and you turn around to leave before he can do or say anything else. 
Eddie and Steve stand there with stunned looks on their faces. Eddie looks impressed and proud, a smirk is tugging at his lips. 
Steve’s cheeks are flushed, his eyes are wide and his lips are parted in surprise. Out of all the things he expected to see tonight, this wasn’t one of them. The feeling that rushes through him is intense. 
You should have punched him a long time ago. 
“That’s kinda hot.”
Eddie snorts at Steve’s words. 
Yeah, it was hot. 
“Damn, sweetheart,” Eddie whistles, smirking as you walk back to him. He sees the way your eyes flash with confusion when you notice Steve next to him. “I didn’t know you had such a mean right hook.”
You roll your eyes, laughing. You don't even acknowledge him.
“He had that coming.” 
Eddie throws his arm around you, he pulls you into his chest and leans down to kiss your cheek sloppily, not caring that your ex boyfriend is staring. 
“That’s my girl.”
He wonders what Billy said to you to make you this mad. 
“You gonna hit me next, big girl?” Eddie jokes. 
You giggle, biting down on your lip, you look into Eddie’s amused eyes, completely dismissing his presence. You pull away from him, he looks at you curiously, eyeing the smugness in your eyes. Before he can react, you reach your arm behind him and slap his ass. 
Eddie’s jaw drops at the smack he received, he snorts at your action, squinting his eyes at you, he tries to give you a mean look which only makes you giggle again. You step back when you realize what he’s about to do. Just as he tries to swat your ass, you run off, giggling. 
Eddie doesn’t hesitate to run after you, trying to catch you. Your laughter is loud as you run away from him, pushing past the groups of people as you near the forest.
Steve's brows are still raised and his face is still stunned. 
Many emotions went through him today; anger, sadness, irritation, jealousy but mostly confusion.
He watches Eddie grabbing you from behind, he hears your squeal and he sees the way Eddie kisses your cheek, again.
He blinks and forces himself to look away, only now noticing how wrong it still feels to see you with him.
But it's not wrong, right?
It's not wrong because you aren't his anymore.
He let go of you because you had asked him to, because he loves her, because he wants to spend his life with her.
He still has love for you, he always will but you are a part of his past now, a past that keeps calling him. The past that keeps haunting him in his mind and in his dreams.
Sometimes when he can't sleep at night, he stares at the telephone on his nightstand and he wonders what it would be like to call you, to hear your voice again, to ask you how you are doing, to ask if you are happy with the life you are living now that you are strangers to each other.
Sometimes he wants to call but he never does. You won't pick up the phone. He is sure of that.
But, if you called, he would pick up the phone, anytime, without hesitation.
next chapter
-
tagging friends & mutuals
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