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hxney-lemcn · 1 month

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I Love You~ — NRC Students x gn! reader

summary: How Twisted Wonderland boys react to you saying "I love you."

tw: stalking (Rook), slight angst for some, mainly fluff.

a/n: this is the most I've written for for so many characters. I hope I did them well, I even wrote for characters I'm not confident in. Also, I swear they don't all just say I love you too back, Heartslabyul boys are just too sweet not not (for the most part).

wc: 4.5k (~200 each character)

Master List

Your feelings had been building up over time. It got to the point that it felt like all your feelings were bubbling over. It was only sooner or later that the depth of your love was going to spill. You only hoped that it wouldn’t scare him away.

Riddle Rosehearts

It wasn’t the first time you said those damn words that sent his heart into cardiac arrest. ‘Love you,’ You would chime playfully as he seemed near to scolding you for something or another. He hated to admit how effective those words were on him, it didn’t help how you said it so casually. Yet this time was different, your tone being nothing but soft, your eyes nothing but warm…he wasn’t prepared for this. Avoiding your loving gaze, Riddle could feel his brain melt, his tongue felt like lead, and his heart was beating erratically. When your gaze turned worried, shying away the longer he stayed silent, he somehow gathered the courage to respond.

“I-I love you too.”

Trey Clover

It was no secret how much you both cared for each other. You both seemed like a married couple to the other students. You never really needed to say anything out loud because your love was shown through actions, the way you both smiled at each other, and how the other was always on the mind. Yet hearing you say those words out loud shocked him. What shocked him even more was how much he longed to hear you say it again, and again, and again. It didn’t take long for him to regain his composure, smile brightening as he didn’t even hesitate to respond.

“I love you too~”

Cater Diamond

He always hid behind a smile and a flash of his camera. People would say his care for you only ran skin deep, but you knew otherwise. You had managed to wiggle your way through Cater’s walls and that scared him, but it also brought a sense of relief. His compliments towards you were genuine, showing you just how much his fans loved you (an extension of his own love). He’d always say he loved you playfully, sending a wink your way making you nearly combust…and you’d respond in kind (unknowingly doing the same to him). So when you said those three simple words, your tired eyes fluttering shut as you snuggled into his blankets, he felt like he was going to puke. He felt like a complete coward that he could only reply back after you had fallen asleep, vowing to show you just how much he cared the next day.

“I love you more than you know.”

Deuce Spades

We all know that Deuce isn’t the sharpest tool in the shed, yet you found that endearing. The way he showed his care for you was so obvious it was hard to ignore. How he clearly favored you over Ace, sending threatening glares to any student who dares to look at you the wrong way. You had never felt safer than when you were with Deuce, so you’d try to reciprocate…yet he always seemed to outshine you in your made up care competition. Yet you quickly found his weakness after he shied away after you hugged him once. So when he did something so endearingly silly, it was only natural for those three words to slip…rip Deuce. He stammered, face blazing red as he tried to wrap around what you said, trying to untangle any hidden meanings. Bashfully, he couldn’t meet your eyes as he responded.

“I…love you too.”

Ace Trappola

This menace. He flexes all the time, claiming how you must love him with the way you follow him like a puppy. Yeah…he makes it hard sometimes. So out of spite you’d go to Deuce, causing Ace to sulk. It was in those moments that you realized he was lowkey (highkey) projecting his feelings onto you. It helped you deal with his unabashed praise for himself. You found yourself teasing Ace back, poking him and irritating him (he did find it annoying but he’d rather your attention be on him then anyone else). He’d show off during his games, always looking towards you and making him a clumsy mess on the court. When you finally muttered how you felt (somewhat bitterly) Ace felt his brain shut down for a second before quickly rebooting, a shaky smirk on his face with bright red cheeks as he replied.

“Of course you do! Who wouldn’t- OW! Okay, okay, I l-like you too I guess.”

(bro couldn’t even say love you back 💀)

Leona Kingscholar

To anyone who didn’t know him, they’d think he was indifferent to you, if not annoyed by you. Yet to your and Ruggie’s keen eyes it was easy to see his affection for you crack through his impervious exterior. How he’d drag you with him for his constant naps, how he’d let you play with his hair, and how he’d glare at anyone who seemed to get a little too friendly with you. Leona didn’t like being vulnerable, after all, showing your belly meant submission and death. So when you said those three words he’d dreamt of you saying, how lovingly you were staring at him as you fiddled with one of his braids, he felt his scowl worsen at the fluttery feeling in his chest. His green eyes glanced away, his face softening back into a neutral expression.

“I better be the only one you say that to, herbivore.”

Ruggie Bucchi

He’s another one that people can’t tell if he likes you or is using you. Whenever you were seen with him you were helping him with chores (in reality you only helped him so you both could relax together afterwards). It was clear how much you cared for him, bringing him snacks, helping him with chores, offering to pay for his meals (rip your already bare wallet). In return, he’d share with you. A feat that no one had ever seen him do before. Ruggie never felt guilty for taking/getting food…that was until you never seemed annoyed by how much he took from you. So he felt it was only fair if you had some too…you did pay for it after all. He found his tail wagging when you smiled at him, hugging him, or even when you ruffled his hair. So when you said that! Those words he never expected to be uttered from your lips, let alone aimed at him, his tail just couldn’t stop moving! No matter how composed he seemed, it was like his brain was on fire (insert that spongebob clip).

“Shishishi, I suppose I might feel the same…the price for that information is the other half of your donut. Shishi.”

Jack Howl

This guy. Definition of tsundere. Acts like he wants nothing to do with you while sticking by your side for as long as he can. The nice thing is that he helps you become more healthy. He never forces you, but you feel more inclined to join him in his ‘morning’ jogs (his morning jog is way too early for you so it's technically his second jog of the day and he calls it his wind down jog). Everyone can tell how he feels for you, it's clear in the way his eyes are always searching for your comfort, how he steps in when someone gets too pushy, or when his tail sways when all your attention is on him. Another guy you feel super safe with. The two of you were studying when you said it, atmosphere warm. Jack’s ear twitched, unsure if he heard you correctly, eyes searching yours for confirmation. When you gave no indication that you were joking or being silly, it felt like his heart flipped.

“I…care about you…as well.”

Azul Ashengrotto

He is sneakily unseaky about his feelings. One moment he’s treating you like an actual valued guest with no hidden intentions (😒) and the next he’s lowkey (highkey) flexing on you. Mixed signals because you aren’t sure if he’s trying to make you feel bad about yourself or if he’s trying to make himself look better to you. “Oh don’t worry, this won’t put a dent in my pockets,” He’d say with a smug smirk (you’re lowkey side-eyeing him). One time you poked him to see how’d he react and it was super amusing. Ran away with the brightest blush you’d ever seen claiming he had work to do…yeah…right. When you realized he is in fact trying to impress you (and realized it was really fun to tease him with affection), you became more comfortable around him, looking forward to the next time you could visit the Mostro Lounge. It got to the point that Jade would just bring you to the VIP room (if Azul wasn’t busy swindling a poor soul). When you spoke those words it came out of seemingly nowhere, Azul spilling ink all over a contract he just finished writing. He was so close to darting out of the room, face ablaze, hands trembling. Do you know just how powerful those words are?

“P-perhaps…d-do you…I-I think…” (You broke him, don’t worry he just needs time to collect himself. He loves you too 💖)

Jade Leech

Rip. It kinda takes a lot to catch his eye (do you even want that?). He found it amusing how kind you were, you wouldn’t make it for a second in the deep (k…). Yet what really caught his eye was that you were a green thumb. How you recognized one of his mushrooms and the gleam in your eyes as you stated all you knew about it (not much, but more than anyone else he’s met). Now you have a scary eel that pops up every now and then. Jade only cared about mushrooms, but now on his hikes he’d spot a plant you liked (every now and then bringing it back for you). Downside, you now had Floyd’s attention as well. I mean c’mon, his brother finding interest in someone? He just had to check the guppy out…thankfully Jade stopped him from squeezing you (a true testament of his care for you). The words spilled out of you when Jade had offered to…’help’...with a certain…’problem’ of yours (an annoying student who wouldn’t leave you alone). A look of pure shock washed over his face before it quickly turned into a cunning grin, something that sent the hairs on your arms to raise.

“My my, what a bold statement. Please, treat me gently would you?~” (He did not forget about your ‘problem’)

Floyd Leech

Rip #2. You know he cares (sometimes) when he stops calling you guppy (sometimes he does it just to annoy someone cough Riddle cough). Your case was a mix of both. One time when Floyd wouldn’t stop poking your cheeks you poked his nose with a ‘boop’, and he had deemed you boops. Also wouldn’t stop booping you back after that. He is not ashamed at all. He’d squeeze you, drape over you, pick you up, poke you, nearly kill you. The usual. You always would pretend to be annoyed (although sometimes that annoyance was very real) and Floyd always found your reactions hilarious. Although he had his bad moods, 6/10 times he’d feel better when you booped him. Jade would tease him, Azul would ask you over to the Mostro Lounge more often, even Riddle would avoid you (because where you were Floyd had to be nearby). When he was in a bad mood and you booped him while saying “I love you~”, Floyd froze. Sharp eyes watching your every move like the predator he is, a wide grin revealing his sharp teeth.

“Awwww, I love ya too Boops! Now lemme squeeze ya!”

Kalim Al-Asim

Where do I even start? He’s loving on you the moment he sees you. Hugs, cheek kisses, hand holding, it's all normal to him. He cares about you so why wouldn’t he show you? Poor Jamil, he was really stressed at first, unsure what your intentions were. So to start, you had to prove yourself to Jamil, Kalim had accepted you the moment his eyes landed on you. The more you hung out, the clearer your affection for Kalim shined, and you two were basically a married couple at this point. It was easy to care for him, reciprocating his affection without hesitation. Idk there's not much to say about him, he’s just a loving and carefree guy. It was when you both were winding down, hanging out with just the other, doing some homework (one of the ways you proved yourself to Jamil). Your dreary eyes watched as Kalim swayed in place, his eyes soon meeting yours. His beaming smile had all your defenses down, words falling out without you realizing it. It wasn’t until Kalim jumped at you, squeezing you tightly, face nuzzling into your neck.

“I love you too! We should get married!”

(😅)

Jamil Viper

It’s admirable that you managed to break down Jamil’s walls. He was even more surprised at how your attention would always seem to land on him instead of his insufferable prince. No matter how much Kalim basically begged for your attention, your eyes would always drift to Jamil, a warm smile on your lips when your eyes met. He showed his affection for you in how he looked after you. He had grown up taking care of someone, and although he found himself hating Kalim for his position, for Jamil’s spot in the world, he found himself enjoying caring for you. He loved how your eyes lit up when he offered you lunch, he had made too much anyways (riggggghhhht…), he felt his heart flip when you offered to help clean up or when you offered to help braid his hair. It was still hard for him to wrap his head around the fact that you truly cared for him and had no ulterior motives. His heart beat erratically when you said those words, when you looked only at him so lovingly, how your hand caressed his cheek so tenderly. It was all so overwhelming and he pulled away, pulling his hood up to hide his blush. His tongue felt heavy and he wasn’t sure if he had the heart to let himself be so vulnerable.

“Let’s continue this later…but rest assured I feel a similar way.”

Vil Schoenheit

Ohhh boy. Vil, as much as I love him, might be a bit overbearing at first. If anything, you’d feel ashamed about yourself at first. You never seemed to be good enough as Vil would always find something to pick apart about you. You’d eat too many carbs, your uniform was wrinkly, your eyebags seemed to be more pronounced. When you snapped, crying and pleading for him to just stop, that you knew you weren’t beautiful or perfect like him and you didn’t want to hear it anymore, Vil had to rethink how he showed his care. He didn’t say those things because he thought you were ugly or terrible, he only wanted you to better yourself. To become more healthy and to take better care of yourself. Reflecting, he realized just how mean he seemed…enter the spoiling. Instead of nit picking you, he would give you stuff without a word. You found yourself with skin care products made by him (he didn’t want to taint your skin with bad ingredients), he would bring you a balanced lunch (perhaps breakfast and dinner too, if you’d be kind enough to join him), and he’d gift you outfits that complemented your figure perfectly (sometimes he’d have to get them costume made). It was a bit of a shock at the drastic change, but you found yourself doting on him more as well. You both were having dinner together, Vil complaining about his coworkers and you talking about whatever you were into at the moment. When he mentioned something he’d think you’d like you found yourself sweetly telling him you loved him. He was astounded, eyes locked on yours. As much as he tried to be composed, he couldn’t deny the fluttering of his heart or the heat on his cheeks.

“I love you as well, my sweet potato.”

Rook Hunt

This man 💀. At first you were terrified. Man was literally stalking you. You even went to the professors for help because excuse me? Stalking bad. And as much as Rook took amusement in your actions, he decided to finally get to know you…face to face (he already knew a ton about you). You gave him bombastic side eye when he first was trying to talk to you. He’d pop out of bushes (strangely no leaves stuck in his hair), he’d appear right behind you…one time he seemed to appear from literally nowhere. Against your own will, you warmed up to the freak. When he wasn’t continuously complimenting you, you found him to be funny. Rook is also unashamed about his love for you, he’d shout it from the roof tops if you asked. He also took the fact that you were warm to him as a sign of affection. You didn’t nearly deck him for popping out of the bushes this time? Oh mon chéri, his heart melts that you felt his presence to be so comforting. It felt weird, Rook had complimented you many times, spouting about how much his heart yearns for you. You almost didn’t want to tell him that you loved him, a bit spiteful since you knew how smug he’d look afterwards (you’d never live it down either). Yet when Rook handed you a rose, spieling about how it could never compare to you, you found yourself crumbling. Instead of that smug look you expected, he looked genuinely happy. Green eyes bright and shining, smile so wide you thought it split. Yet that gleam soon looked like that of a predator who finally caught his prey.

“Mon chéri, my heart weeps with joy, I cannot imagine a world without your brilliance shining. Avoir son cœur est la plus grande récompense.”

Epel Felmier

Epel is a tough nut even if he looks cute. He’d tease you mercilessly (Ace moment) on some days, while most he found himself complaining to you. Vil would work him tirelessly, and he can handle tough work! You’d sneak him candy or some jerky (that was more manly than candy). He found himself always trying to impress you, whether it be carrying something heavy or showing you his grades (he improved from last time okay). He loved how you complimented his strength or his intelligence, but deep down he was scared you saw him as a cute prim boy that Vil was trying to turn him into. If anyone tried anything with you he’s the one you’d go to, making his chest puff in confidence. Of course he’s trying to not fight so Vil won’t punish him, but a stern talking too wasn’t out of the picture. You both were relaxing under a tree. You mindlessly watched Epel as he carved an apple, handing you pieces when they were cut perfectly. Another one who can’t handle it when you say it. Eyes wide, shoulders hunched, face matching the apple he was holding.

“Ya c-can’t jus’ s-say that! Y-you tryna k-kill me? ‘Tch, you’re lucky I like ya too.”

Idia Shroud

He’s such a simp. Some days he can barely squeak out a word to you, hiding himself in the comfort of his hoodie, others he’s flexing on you about just how much more he knows about a game than you. When he’s feeling extra generous (trying to get y’alls intimacy meter up to max) he’ll buy you the fancy currency in your favorite gacha game, go on, do as many ten pulls as it takes to get your favorite character up to max level. His favorite moments are when you both are watching an anime together, in the same bed…it makes his heart explode just thinking about it (dudes on the opposite side of the bed 💀). What makes him care for you even more is how you interact with Ortho. You two are his favorite people and seeing how well you both get along just further warms his heart. When you muttered those words to him, he literally screamed. Hoodie up, hiding under his blankets, his hair the brightest pink it’s ever been. He felt light headed and he was sure if he opened his eyes his vision would be spotty.

“G-gah! Your charm is maxed out! It’s n-not fair that you had the special dialogue to insta kill me.”

Ortho Shroud (platonic only obvs)

He is just a little ray of sunshine. He’s the reason why you got so close to Idia in the first place. He’s always on the hunt for any potential friends for him and his brother. You were always sweet to him, doting on him and calling him cute. Ortho honestly thought of you as another sibling (might as well be with how much you hype him up). Ortho would always try to accompany you if he had time, always ‘hinting’ at you to visit his brother (bro is not hinting, straight up just asking). He felt his cpu warm as he processed his happy feelings at watching you and his brother get along, as well as when you always brought Ortho over to join you both. It didn’t take long for you to tell Ortho you loved him, I mean he was just so adorable!

“I’m so happy! I love you too!”

Malleus Draconia

I hope you're ready to become a royal beside him. He shows he cares with grand gestures (which Lila helps make them smaller gestures). Malleus is used to people fearing him, and the fact that you didn’t? Man was gobsmacked. He shared his interests with you, and you shared yours with him. He would research anything you said that he didn’t understand (it was even better if you were the one teaching him). If you thought your affection was spilling over, Malleus’ was flooding. It turned into him giving you fine jewelry, clothing, flowers, food, you want it, it's yours. He cared for you greatly, and he was unsure how else to show his affection. You gave him a hug? He’d hug you now as a greeting. One time you booped his nose and he went cross eyed following your finger. You’d almost spilled your guts then (I’m surprised you didn’t cus that shit’s adorable). You always confused him with your cute forms of affection, but he wouldn’t have it any other way. It seemed impossible for you to keep in your love any longer on a bright, moonlit night. As you stared into the night sky, you spilled those three little words that unknowingly sealed your fate. Malleus felt his heart be set aflame, eyes taking you in. It was then that he finally thought of a perfect ring for you.

“I love you as well, child of man. More than you could ever imagine.”

Lilia Vanrouge

As silly and carefree as he was, Lilia wasn’t ready to love again. He had his family, and that was all he cared for. So when he found himself messing with you more, missing when you weren’t around, wanting to cook for you (rip #3), he felt scared. Love never went well for him, it was almost like he was cursed, and those he cared for were ripped away from him. Yet you were so sweet, trying his food and trying to give him pointers on how he could improve. The cute scared face you made when he popped out of nowhere. Gosh you made it so easy to love, it was honestly unfair. He was supposed to be the cute one! You can’t go stealing his title! You also found it a struggle to love Lilia. You knew he was older than time itself (💀), and honestly you felt a bit weird for falling for him. I mean, you were so much younger, and he was a fae. It just seemed like a lot, so you kept your feelings to yourself. That was until one night, Lilia was tucking you in since you fell asleep on him, and you muttered those cursed words as you drifted off. He actually avoided you for a few weeks after that, and you felt embarrassed that you slipped. It wasn’t until he could no longer avoid you, missing you too much and having thought it through enough.

“I hope you understand the weight of your words, after all, us fae stay with our partner for life.”

Silver Vanrouge

He is so easy to get along with. He’s always looking out for you, offering you snacks when you're hungry and handing you water when you haven’t drank any yet. While he does find himself dozing off a lot, he appreciates when you try to poke him awake or go over the material he slept through. No one even questions your status, they just assume you're together with how lovey dovey you both act. He’s fallen asleep on your shoulder more times than he can count, his soft hair tickling your neck. He’d apologize when waking up, but you were too entranced by not only his beauty but the cute animals that now surrounded you both. Not to mention the way your heart would pitter patter as he would promise to defend you, his shining eyes showing complete seriousness. You had whispered your love for him when he was sleeping, gently playing with his hair. You thought he wouldn’t hear, but boy were you wrong. His soft eyes blinked open sleepily, a small smile tugging at his lips.

“Am I dreaming? I hope I’m not, because I love you too.”

Sebek Zigvolt

Another tsundere ass. He gets overwhelmed by his feelings for you so often I’m surprised your eardrums aren’t permanently damaged from his constant yelling. It was confusing for him because the only other person he felt a somewhat similar feeling towards was Malleus Draconia, and you were nowhere near the level of the future king of Briar Valley. He’d take his strange feelings out on you, inadvertently pushing you away. Thank the sevens for Lilia (or not) because the bat fae would always have something to say about Sebek when he’d see you. “Have you heard of how brave Sebek was?” “Have you seen how cute he is when his face turns red?” Thankfully, Sebek got used to the pitter patter he felt when you smiled at him, no longer scolding you for…smiling? Another one that you learn tends to project. He’s degrading you for being human? Well he’s half human too, so he probably feels the same about himself more than you. Which causes you to try and compliment him more…which leads to him shouting, cycle repeats. I hope you brought ear plugs, cus the moment you spilled your guts, the soft atmosphere turned harsh. His face lit up red as his shoulders rose to his ears, be prepared for a flustered, shouting croc.

“C-cease your tempting words human! I-I only have eyes for Waka-sama! I have no time for foolish endeavors that will ruin my position! W-wait, don’t l-leave! I n-never said I didn’t f-feel the s-same!”

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stayinlimbo · 3 months

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hotel check-ins

pairing: idol!lee minho x f!reader genre: established relationship, fluff requested?: yes warnings: cuteness, slight suggestiveness towards the end, poor attempts at me trying to be funny, lowercase intended word count: 1.0k note: (did i add three different lee know pics because i don't know how to find three from the same shoot...maybe). thank you @starfire21 for the request. i hope i did it justice. now playing - billie bossa nova ♡

as the girlfriend of a kpop idol, you’ve become somewhat of a pro at navigating security.

badge check? easy. safety briefing? lightwork (no reaction). being inconspicuous? you got a couple side-eyes from the hotel receptionists at the sunglasses and mask obscuring your face, but it’s nothing you haven’t handled before.

the only trouble you had was using the codename minho texted you after the concert to obtain his suite number from the front desk. in fact, it’s the first thing you gripe about after your boyfriend whisks you inside the room the two of you will reside in for the night.

“really? ‘lee jisung?’ who chose that?”

“i did.”

“shocker.”

“i know. i wanted ‘lee know is cute’ but they said no,” minho replies casually, a smile illuminating his face.

the sigh you let out is mostly for show at this point, in contrast to the no longer suppressed grin you display in return. you can’t even pretend to be annoyed at the man who tugged you through the doorway after a singular knock.

minho’s hand still gently holds your wrist, and he uses this to his advantage to pull you closer to him. a synchronized “oof” leaves both of your lips as you collide into his chest, taken aback by his unexpected strength. light laughter fills the otherwise silent room as you settle into a familiar embrace.

his arms traverse to your waist, guiding your body to nestle further against his. wrapping your arms around his neck, you rest your cheek on his collarbone, tilting your head slightly to press a tender kiss to the underside of his jaw.

the scent of minho’s shampoo fills your senses as your hand roams through his semi-dry hair. from this angle, you can tell that his stage makeup has been carefully wiped off for the night, revealing the small, beautiful imperfections you love oh so much.

“i missed you,” you mumble, breaking the comfortable silence.

“i missed you too” minho breathes, squeezing your frame tighter, “the door was unlocked, you know? you could’ve just walked in.”

“aw, poor baby,” you coo teasingly, pulling back slightly to face him, “it must’ve been torture to be without me for so long.”

“you say that as if it wasn’t the same for you,” he retorts lightly, moving his hands to rest on your hips. you can’t help the laughter that escapes you as he gently shakes you in place in retaliation. as if you would ever feel otherwise.

you reach up to pinch his cheek, smile growing even wider at his feigned disgruntled expression fighting (and losing) against the tugging at the corners of his lips.

“stay would be so jealous right now if they knew about this,” you say once you’ve calmed down enough.

“about what?”

“this side of you.”

the small, genuine smile adorning his face at your words. the light dusting of blush across his cheeks that reaches the tips of his ears. the post-concert afterglow still lingering on his expression, eyes flickering over your features ever so slightly more than normal. the way he tries to act nonchalant as he brings his face closer to yours.

the side only you get to see.

“mm, too bad for them then,” minho whispers. his breath intertwines with yours at his proximity, stopping a breadth away from your mouth. just a little closer. “i’m yours.”

“yeah, you’re mine,” you murmur, moving forward to close the distance between your lips.

small chimes emitting from his pajama short’s pocket compel you to plant a tiny peck on the corner of his mouth instead, slowly pulling away as he attempts to chase your lips.

“aren't you going to check that, min?” you ask, chuckling at his soft protests from the denied affection.

a cute pout forms on his face, accompanied by furrowed brows, as one of his hands releases your hip to dig his phone out of his pocket. your thumb brushes over his cheekbone as he stares at the phone before turning it off and tossing the small device over his shoulder. quiet thuds echo around the room as it lands and bounces on the hotel bed.

wait. what?

“min–”

your words are interrupted by minho’s soft, moisturized lips enveloping your own. your eyes flutter shut as he allows you to take the lead, slowly brushing your lips against his, savoring the taste of fresh mint on his tongue. minho deepens the kiss, grabbing your palm cradling his cheek and holding it flat against his chest, right above his heart—where you always reside.

minho’s pupils are blown out when you pull away for air, which you have no doubt mirrors your own. heavy breaths mingle together as you both try to regain composure. his heart beats widely beneath your touch and you’re unable to resist the heat spreading across your cheeks at the effect you have on him.

“could that have been important?” you question, glancing over at the phone resting behind him.

“maybe,” minho shugs. his eyes trail back down to your lips, drawing you in again for a heated kiss. “not more important than you though.”

his heart still pulses erratically under the press of your hand. you meet his half-lidded gaze with a smile, letting your eyes wander across his slightly swollen lips and flushed cheeks. you push the bangs that fell into his face out of his eyes, giving a teasing kiss to the tip of his nose.

well played.

“i take it you still have energy leftover?” you smirk, already knowing the answer. “need any help with that?”

minho’s eyes widen, his grasp on your hips tightening as a shiver runs down his spine. you didn’t think his heart could beat any faster.

“the walls aren’t soundproof. chan will break down the door.”

“maybe you should go lock it then.”

minho’s never moved faster in his life.

✦ . ⁺ . ✦ . ⁺ . ✦ . ⁺ . ✦ . ⁺ . ✦ . ⁺ . ✦ . ⁺ . ✦ . ⁺ . ✦ . ⁺ . ✦ . ⁺

bonus: (“should i call you lee jisung now?”

“please don’t.”)

bonus 2: (“how’d you know the rooms aren’t sound proof?”

“felix brought his gaming pc.”

“oh.”)

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liked this work? want to let me know how i did? please like, comment, and/or reblog; they are greatly appreciated my asks are always open ♡

taglist: @linospuddin @linocz

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atomicladytimetravel · 9 months

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Quiet Type

Summary: Joel Miller doesn’t really care for small talk and he finally meets someone who respects that. Slow burn romance and PWP. Jackson era Joel, no mention of Ellie. Cannon game places mentioned but it’s HBO Joel.

Warnings: 18+ ONLY. MDNI. Smut. Oral (f receiving), fingering, unprotected p in v, light choking, pet names, some rough sex. Joel is really sweet.

I’m actually really proud of this one, I hope you guys like it!

Word count: 5,444

Joel Miller doesn’t really like people. With the exception of his brother Tommy and his wife Maria, Joel keeps to himself. He does his patrol, eats his meals (mostly alone) at the Tipsy Bison and goes home to his empty house. He likes it this way - or at least he likes to think he does.

Everything starts to change when you show up in Jackson. You were wounded, on the run from a group of raiders that ransacked your camp and took out half your group. The surviving half got split up as you fled the area, just trying to get out alive. You had run straight into Jackson’s patrol unit, hands in the air and begging for help.

“Stay right there, do not come any closer.”

It had come from who you would later find out to be Tommy Miller. You stopped where you were and plead your case with the group of people that had their guns trained on you.

“Please, I’m not sick. Just wounded. Raiders attacked my camp and I lost my group.”

Tommy instructed the dog at his side to sniff and you stood as still as possible as it circled you, smelling for signs of the cordycep infection. The dog returned to Tommy’s side, having found no trace of the illness.

“She’s fine, lower your guns.”

Your wound was nothing too serious; you had been grazed in the shoulder as you fled the camp, but you escaped otherwise unscathed. After a quick recovery, Tommy and Maria asked if you’d be willing to take patrol shifts. This is where you would meet Joel Miller for the first time.

After getting up at the ass crack of dawn, you get dressed and sling a pack with food and water over your shoulder. You meet Tommy at the stables and you see him talking with another man. He’s a little older, his hair a little more silver, but you can see a family resemblance - a brother, maybe a first cousin. You can’t deny that he’s ruggedly handsome, the kind of guy you would probably go for under different circumstances. He doesn’t look nearly as relaxed as Tommy.

“Ah, here she comes,” Tommy says as you approach the two. “This is my brother, Joel. He’ll be your patrol partner today.”

Joel nods in your direction, but says nothing. You’re pretty decent at reading people and, judging by Joel’s stiff body language and silent greeting, he’s not a people person. You nod in return, figuring that actually speaking would be a waste of time anyway. Tommy shows you which horse to take (his name is Toast) and you’re already up on the saddle when he turns to ask if you know how to ride.

“I’ll take that as a yes.”

“I took lessons before the world went to shit.”

After making sure you know the rules, Tommy leaves you and Joel to it. You let Joel take the lead and the two of you ride out of Jackson silently. As a matter of fact, you do everything silently, save for when Joel is barking instructions at you. When you return, Tommy asks Joel how you did when he thinks you’re out of earshot.

“Fine,” Joel replies. “She didn’t get us killed and she doesn’t talk my fuckin’ ear off.”

Tommy laughs and claps his brother on the back. The corner of your lip twitches upward into a half smile as you walk away from the barn and to your house.

You end up being on patrol with Joel more often than not. You suspect it’s because you leave him alone and speak to him only when necessary. You don’t seek him out when off duty and if you do happen to see him, a curt nod is the most that’s ever exchanged. He likes it this way - or at least he likes to think he does.

——————

Joel might be a quiet man, but he is still a man with (mostly) working eyes. He takes notice of your shape, the way your ass moves when you walk and the way your smile lights up whatever room you’re in. He never gets to see that smile unless he happens to see you talking to other people. He likes to see you smile and, even though he would rather die than admit this to himself or anyone else, he wishes you would smile at him. Sometimes he wonders why you talk to everyone but him, but then he reminds himself that he doesn’t care because he likes it this way.

One morning, after a couple of months of silent patrols and nodded greetings, Joel actually speaks to you when you enter the stables.

“Hey,” he grunts, and that’s all he says. But it’s one word more than what’s usually spoken.

“Hey,” you reply, making brief eye contact. You’re a little surprised, but you don’t let him see. Much like a stray dog you might try to coax into letting you pet it, you don’t want to scare him off by getting too close too soon. Eventually, “hey” evolves into “mornin’”, but nothing past the initial greeting is ever said. You don’t push him, figuring if he ever wants to talk, he’ll say something.

One day, he does. His voice makes you jump just a little, not expecting him to be speaking in the moment. You’re walking through the Mountain View ski lodge and you’ve gotten to the point on patrol where Joel doesn’t need to instruct you anymore.

“You’re, uh…pretty quiet, huh?”

“Sorry?” You’re a little caught off guard by the question.

“You don’t talk much,” he clarifies. Your eyebrows knit together in a confused expression.

“That’s because you don’t seem like the kind of guy that likes to talk,” you shrug.

“I don’t.”

“Alright then. If you’re not interested in talking, I’m not gonna force you to Joel.”

That’s the first time you’ve ever said his name out loud in front of him. He curses himself mentally because he likes the way it sounds coming out of your mouth. He just looks at you, his turn to wear the confused expression. He’s not exactly used to people actually picking up on the fact that he doesn’t care for small talk.

“I’m pretty good at reading people,” you explain. “Your body language screams ‘leave me alone’. So I leave you alone.”

“Hmph…wish other people could pick up on that.”

You let out a short laugh through your nose, and that is the end of the first conversation you ever have with Joel Miller.

——————

One night, you find yourself dreaming of him. In the dream, you’re patrolling the ski lodge. Once you’ve cleared the place and there are no signs of danger, Joel holsters his gun and turns to you.

“C’mere,” he says, beckoning to you with his hand. You walk up to him and he grabs you by the waist, pulling you the rest of the way in. His eyes are dark with lust and he kisses you with those soft, supple looking lips. Things quickly get explicit and you wake up with a throbbing cunt, arousal pooling in your panties. You’re perplexed, never having experienced any feelings for Joel other than your initial recognition that he’s a handsome man. You chalk it up to being around him so often and brush it off, going about your morning as usual.

When you meet Joel in the stables, your stomach flutters momentarily when you lay eyes on him. You take a deep breath and shake the memory of the dream out of your head and you go in to saddle up Toast. You’re pleasantly surprised when Joel speaks as the horses trot off toward Teton County.

“So…uh…where you from?”

“You mean recently or before?”

“Before. I heard you tell Tommy you took riding lessons before.”

That was months ago. You’re honestly shocked he remembered that.

“Oh yeah. I’m from Dallas.”

“No shit,” he says, sounding surprised. “Me and Tommy are from Austin.”

“Well shit, what a small world.”

You smile at him and a tiny piece of the icy wall around his heart melts.

——————

“So Tommy, I hear you’re from Texas. Me too - Dallas.”

You’re sitting across from him and Maria at dinner. He looks up from his plate, confusion evident on his face.

“Where’d ya hear that?”

“Your brother told me,” you shrug, as if it was the most obvious answer in the world.

“Joel just volunteered that information, huh?” he asks sarcastically.

“Not really. He asked me where I’m from. When I told him Dallas, he said y’all are from Austin.”

Tommy and Maria are both looking at you like you’d grown a second head. They glance at each other suspiciously and then back at you.

“Joel…asked you where you’re from?” Tommy asks incredulously. You grin and stab a piece of meat with your fork.

“Turns out if you just leave him alone, he gets curious.”

“What are you, some sort of witch?” he jokes, to which you laugh loudly.

“I just have good people skills.”

——————

Everything you and Joel learn about each other comes in increments through the micro conversations you have on patrol. You let him control when the conversation begins and when it ends. He doesn’t tell you, but he appreciates that. You never ask for more than what he volunteers and vice versa. It’s gotten to the point where he’ll talk to you at least once during patrol. He asks questions about what life was like before the outbreak and before you got to Jackson and he tells you a little about himself in return.

You know he was a contractor in Austin and that he, too, likes horses. He doesn’t like to talk much about how he lived after the outbreak before Jackson; he only says he’s not proud of some of the things he did to survive. He did tell you about how he and Tommy went their separate ways and it was years before Joel finally found him in Jackson.

Joel secretly looks forward to your little conversations. He finds that he actually likes being around you. He likes that you don’t prod and ask too many questions. He likes that you seem to be able to gauge when he’s ready to stop talking. He likes it when you walk ahead of him because the man in him can’t deny you have a fine ass. Truth be told, he just likes you, but that’s a feeling he’s not ready to deal with yet. He can’t deny his physical attraction to you, though. More often than not, he finds himself fucking his fist imagining it’s you wrapped around him instead of his hand.

You like him, too. You perk up when he speaks and it makes you feel warm and fuzzy to know you’re one of the few people he talks to. You can’t help but think about him when you’re lying in bed. You fantasize about him fucking you; you imagine he’s a little rough, a little dominant. You make yourself cum thinking about him whispering filthy things in your ear.

Sometimes you think you can feel the sexual tension between you two as you’re walking side by side on patrol. You’re certain you can feel his eyes on you when you take the lead. Part of you thinks that maybe, just maybe, he might like you. You don’t say anything for fear of losing what you already have.

——————

You fuck everything up on patrol one day. You’re in the library in Teton Village quietly weaving through the book cases while Joel does the same on the opposite side. You hear the telltale clicking and see an infected coming at Joel from his right side, but Joel doesn’t seem to hear it. He sees it right as it tackles him to the ground and he gets into a wrestling match with it.

“Hey!” you shout, turning the attention of the clicker on you. It leaps off of Joel and barrels in your direction, but you’re quick on the draw and you’re able to shoot it before it makes it to you. You rush over to Joel to make sure he isn’t hurt.

“Are you fuckin’ stupid?” he growls angrily, hoisting himself up off the ground.

“Umm, you’re fuckin’ welcome,” you respond, crossing your arms defiantly.

“You could’ve gotten yourself killed,” he seethes.

“I stopped you from getting killed! If that thing had bitten you, I would’ve had to shoot you, too,” you argued. “Besides, it’s dead, and we’re not. Isn’t that why we go in pairs?”

“Whatever,” he grumbles. “Just don’t do stupid shit like that again.”

——————

He doesn’t talk to you for almost a week - no little bursts of conversation throughout patrol, not even a greeting when you meet in the stables. You don’t know what you did that was so wrong, you had only been trying to help. You’re riding through Teton Village again and you relive the moment when you pass the library. Your anger at him for his outburst reignites, the fact that he won’t even speak to you fueling your rage. He senses your shift in mood and you’re about to open your mouth to tell him off when he speaks.

“I’m…sorry.”

You close your mouth and look at him. He sees that, not only are you angry, but there’s a little bit of hurt hiding in your eyes. Now he’s mad at himself.

“I shouldn’t have yelled at you and I definitely shouldn’t have called you stupid. You probably saved my life and I need to thank you for that.”

“You’re welcome Joel. And thank you for the apology,” you say. Then you do something you wouldn’t normally do - you prod. “Why the hell did you get so pissed?”

He’s silent for a long while and you’re afraid you’ve fucked up again. You’re relieved when he speaks again, but the response you receive isn’t one you would have ever expected.

“You…scared me,” he admits. “I saw the clicker running towards you and I was afraid you were gonna get hurt while I was fuckin’ layin’ on the ground.”

“I was scared, too. It was coming right for you and you didn’t seem to hear it and it was too late for me to say anything before it attacked. I figured I had a better chance at killing it than you did.”

“You did the right thing,” he assures you. “I would’ve done the same for you.”

And he means it. He would face a room full of the things to save you. Having acknowledged that fact, he makes the decision to open up to you then.

“I’m mostly deaf in my right ear. That’s why I didn’t hear it.”

“Oh. Well that makes sense.”

You’re not really sure what else to say, other than to ask him what happened, but you don’t want to push him. If he wants you to know, he’ll tell you. And he does.

“I tried to take myself out right after the outbreak. My daughter died on outbreak day and it destroyed me.”

You gasp softly and a hand goes to your mouth in shock, partially because he’s telling you something so personal and partially because you feel so bad for him.

“Joel, that’s awful. I’m so sorry.”

He waves the apology off and continues.

“I missed somehow - obviously, because I’m still here - but it fucked up my hearing.”

You’re quiet for a little bit. You’re in disbelief that Joel willingly shared such an intimate detail about himself. In a soft voice, you finally say, “I’m glad you missed.”

He gives you a little smile and you fall back into a comfortable silence for quiet a while. On the way back to Jackson, he surprises you again.

“Hey…wanna eat dinner with me tonight?”

“Sure, I’d love to,” you say with a grin.

You don’t ask him if it’s a date for the fear of him taking it back. It took almost a year and a brush with death for him to ask you to do anything besides patrol with him and you weren’t about to risk messing it up.

When you walk into the Tipsy Bison, you see him sitting at his usual table in the corner, eyes flitting around the room nervously. You’re glad you decided to dress up a little, throwing on a skirt and one of the nicer tops you have; he’s dressed in a button up flannel and clean jeans, his hair slicked back. Your cunt throbs just looking at him.

“Oh god,” you think to yourself, “I didn’t think he could get any hotter, but damn.”

Tommy catches sight of you and calls your name, waving you to his table. You wave at him but continue walking towards Joel.

“Sorry Tommy, I have plans.”

He watches you take a seat across from Joel and pauses mid bite as his brother actually smiles at another human being. Maria nudges him and he looks away quickly.

“Sorry I’m late,” you apologize as you sit down. “I couldn’t decide what to wear.”

“You look really pretty,” he says. You feel your cheeks heat up and you hear Tommy loudly whisper, “did he just say she looks really pretty??”

You and Joel glare at Tommy simultaneously and the younger Miller puts his hands up in surrender. You giggle when Maria chastises him and Joel doesn’t know when he’s ever heard a prettier sound.

“I really like your hair like that,” you say, turning your attention back to Joel. “You look really nice.”

It’s his turn to blush now. You think it’s absolutely adorable.

“Thanks. I uh, I wasn’t too sure what to wear either.”

He reaches up and rubs the back of his neck, the material of his flannel tightening around his bicep. You have to will yourself not to drool over the muscle flexing underneath. He’s trying to shake his nerves. It’s been…fuck, it’s been over twenty years since he’s been on a date, back when restaurants and movie theaters were still a thing. Wait, did he ever clarify that this is a date? Before he can say anything, you speak up.

“Can I ask you a question Joel?”

“Go ahead sweetheart.”

He doesn’t know where he got the confidence to say that. It makes your heart skip a beat and your stomach do a backflip.

“Is this a date?”

He chuckles heartily.

“Yes darlin’, this is a date.”

——————

Your first date with Joel goes exceptionally well. You both relax and you have a full blown conversation, laughing and joking with each other and acting like nobody was staring at the two of you. Nobody in Jackson had seen Joel happy, probably ever. You leave the Tipsy Bison together and you both ignore how everyone’s heads turn to watch you leave. He walks you to your front door like a true southern gentleman.

You stare at each other for a long moment, and then you both move in for a kiss at the same time. You grab the front of his shirt and reach behind you to turn the door knob; you pull him into your house without breaking the kiss. You push him onto your couch and he looks up at you with admiration as you straddle his lap.

“You sure you wanna do this?” he asks between kisses.

“I’ve been sure since I walked into the Tipsy Bison and saw how fuckin’ hot you look.”

He growls, deep and throaty, and it rumbles through his chest; he palms your ass underneath your skirt, squeezing roughly. His tongue is in your mouth and your hands are in his hair, ruining the slicked back style. His lips move to your jaw bone, then to your neck where he sucks harshly. There’s going to be a mark there for sure, but neither of you care. You both want the whole town to know Joel Miller marked you as his.

“I think about you all the fuckin’ time,” he confesses into your skin, his breath against your neck making you tingle. “Not just about this. In general.”

His words are sweet and they make you feel as though you could explode with joy. You smooth your hand down the back of his hair as he buries his face into your cleavage, kissing the exposed tops of your breasts.

“I think about you, too. I really like you, Joel.”

He looks up at you and smiles, his hand coming up to cradle your face. He uses his thumb to rub your cheekbone and he kisses you softly.

“I really like you, too.”

You smile and put your hand over his. You remove it from your face and kiss his palm before placing it over one of your breasts.

“Do you ever think about me like this?” you ask as you begin to grind your hips on him. His breath hitches but he recovers quickly, kneading your breast over your shirt while his other hand squeezes your hip.

“How could I not? Got a gorgeous fuckin’ thing like you ridin’ next to me almost every day, shakin’ your ass when you walk in front of me.”

You giggle, your hands moving to his chest to unbutton his flannel.

“I had a dream about you once,” you tell him as your fingers slowly work his buttons. “We were in the ski lodge. You kissed me and then you laid me down and fucked me on one of the couches. I was so wet when I woke up.”

“Baby girl,” he groans. “So fuckin’ hot. Do you touch yourself thinkin’ about me, hmm?”

You’re finished unbuttoning his shirt now and you push it off his arms, revealing his toned biceps.

“All the time,” you respond, dragging your nails lightly down his bare chest. His lips crash against yours again in a needy, desperate kiss. He breaks it just long enough to pull your shirt over your head and then he wraps his arms around you, his touch cool against your burning skin.

“Let’s see if I can still do this,” he says, his mouth moving against yours.

He grabs the clasp of your bra with one hand and, with one flick of his fingers, your bra unclasps and hangs loosely off your shoulders.

“Damn, that was impressive. And very hot.”

He chuckles and slides your bra off your arms, tossing it carelessly to the side. He does this without breaking eye contact and he presses another kiss to your lips before admiring your naked breasts.

“Fuckin’ perfect,” he says, cupping them in his hands. He rolls your nipples between his fingers and your head falls back, a soft moan escaping your throat.

“Let’s take this to the bedroom, yeah?” he suggests, his nose brushing your exposed throat. He stands with you still on his lap and you wrap your legs around him.

“Mmm, a big strong man,” you tease, squeezing his biceps. He laughs through his nose and carries you to your room, tossing you gently on the bed. You giggle softly when your back hits the mattress. You sit up on your elbows and watch with your bottom lip pulled between your teeth as he comes out of his jeans. His cock is perfect. It’s big, but not big enough to be intimidating, and it’s rock hard.

He gets to his knees on the mattress and tugs your skirt off your hips, your panties going with it. You’re now completely on display for each other and neither of you can stop staring. He’s fit but a little soft around the middle; it drives you absolutely wild. He thinks you’re the most beautiful thing he’s ever laid eyes on.

“You are so god damn beautiful,” he says softly. You smile up at him.

“Come kiss me, you gorgeous fuckin’ man.”

He does, his tongue licking inside your mouth. He sucks on your tongue and you moan into the kiss. Your hips rise to meet his, your cunt desperate for some kind of contact.

“Patience baby girl,” he coos, pushing your hips back down. “I wanna take my time with you. Been dreamin’ about this for a while.”

He kisses your neck again, sucking and biting at the sensitive skin. He presses open mouthed kisses to your chest before sucking your nipple in his mouth, his tongue swirling around the hardening bud. You’re absolutely soaking now and you can feel arousal sliding down your thigh.

“Joel…my god…please,” you breathe.

“Shhhh, let me play baby. I’m gonna make you feel so good, I promise.”

He switches to your other breast and you’re sure you’re going to explode before he touches you. Your clit is throbbing and you’re desperate for his touch. He takes his time, finding the most sensitive parts of your body and kissing, sucking, biting. You feel like you’re being worshipped.

“Does this turn you on?” you ask breathlessly. “Because, fuck, it turns me on.”

“What, touching your beautiful fuckin’ body like this? Absolutely,” he assures you. “My cock’s hard enough to cut glass right now.”

You both laugh a little bit and you’re reassured that he’s enjoying himself. He spreads your legs into the butterfly position and settles onto his stomach, his head between your legs. He kisses your pubic mound and then spreads you open with two fingers.

“Mmm, look at this pretty pussy. She’s jus’ fuckin’ soaked baby. You’re dripping onto the fuckin’ sheets. Can I taste it?”

“Please,” you manage to squeak out.

He kisses your clit and you gasp. He blows softly on the area and you moan, your hole clenching around nothing.

“Oh, she likes that,” he teases. He massages your clit with the tip of his tongue and a high pitched, breathy moan falls from your lips. Finally, some relief. His tongue feels so good, swirling around the sensitive bundle of nerves. All you can do is pant and moan as he buries his tongue into you.

“God, you got the sweetest fuckin’ pussy.”

He wastes no time diving back in, moving his head from side to side. He laps at your cunt and you can feel the buildup of pleasure getting ready to release.

“Fuck, Joel, I’m gonna cum,” you warn. This only spurs him on and he sucks hard at your clit. That pushes you over the edge and your hips rise as your orgasm hits. You let out a long whine of his name and he only stops when your hips meet the mattress again.

“Good job sweet girl,” he praises. “Let’s see if you can take another.”

He doesn’t wait for you to answer before he’s between your legs again, alternating between licking and sucking your clit. Your hand is in his hair, keeping his face between your legs because you’ll take whatever this man decides to give you. You notice that his hips are rutting into the mattress; he’s just as desperate for release as you are but his priority is you. You feel your impending release and you’re cumming before you can properly voice it.

“Oh god…I’m…f-fuck - cumming, I’m cumming,” you wail. He doesn’t stop when you’ve come down and the feeling of overstimulation makes you scoot back from his mouth. He wraps his arms under your thighs and pulls you back to him.

“C’mere baby, give me another. You can do it.”

You breathe in deeply and exhale through your nose and you relax into his touch again. This time, he slides two fingers into your hole, pumping in and out as he laps at your clit. He hooks his fingers and your eyes fly open as his hits that spongy spot in your walls.

“O-oh god don’t stop,” you pant. He pumps his fingers faster, curling them with every thrust.

“Oh yeah baby, you’re so close. I can feel you clenching around my fingers. Listen to you making those pretty sounds. Let go for me pretty thing. Cum for me.”

A few more strokes of his fingers and you’re coming undone. You cry out his name, gripping the sheets until your fingers hurt. He kisses the insides of your thighs softly.

“That’s it baby, you did so good f’me.”

He sits up on his knees and takes his cock in his hand. You watch as he strokes it, the sight stoking the fire in your belly once more. You need him, need to be full of him.

“You want my cock, pretty girl?” he asks, as though reading your mind.

“Please…,” you utter pleadingly. He settles himself between your legs and drags his cock through your folds. You both moan as he slides in slowly, pushing all the way to the hilt.

“God, I jus’ wanna fuckin’ rail you,” he says through gritted teeth. “Fuckin’ perfect pussy. Gotta go slow though.”

“No, rail me. I can take it.”

“Baby if I rail you right now I won’t last. Let me go slow for a minute and then I’ll destroy this little fuckin’ pussy, yeah?”

“Oh god, yes,” you mewl. He takes his time, sliding in and out of you slowly. He enjoys watching how you suck him back in, your arousal making his cock shine.

“She’s so wet for me baby,” he whimpers, and you think it’s the hottest fucking thing you’ve ever heard. “Oh fuck, your pussy feels so good.”

He picks up speed a little and you wrap your legs around him. He rests his hands on either side of you, capturing your lips in a heated kiss. His tip hits your g-spot with every thrust and you moan and whimper pathetically.

“Joel, just - fuck, just like that. Gonna make me cum so hard.”

“Fuckin’ cum for me baby girl,” he groans. He reaches between you and rubs your clit with his thumb. The extra stimulation sends you reeling and you’re clawing at his back, babbling about how hard he’s making you cum.

He pulls out and flips you into your stomach, pulling you back by your hips. He slams back into you all the way. He thrusts into you over and over, railing you just like he promised. At this point, you’re certain you can be heard by anyone outside but you’re beyond caring. All you can do is cry out for Joel as he continues slamming into you.

“Yeah, keep clenching around my cock, dirty fuckin’ girl. So tight f’me baby, fuck.”

He lands a smack on your ass cheek and it makes you cum again without warning, eyes rolling back.

“‘m cumming Joel,” you mumble. Your body quakes with pleasure as he pounds into you relentlessly.

“God fuckin’ damn baby girl, you take this fuckin’ cock. Take it like my good fuckin’ girl.”

He’s lost in the way you feel, hips slamming into you so hard you’re actually moving forward on the bed. Deep, guttural growls rumble from his chest.

“One more time baby,” he pants. “Need you to cum o-one more time.”

He pulls you up so that your back is against his chest. He puts his lips to your ear and kisses the shell of it, his hand cuffing your throat.

“You’re gonna cum again for me baby, then I’m gonna fuckin’ paint you with my cum.” His voice is low in your ear and he applies light pressure to your throat. His free hand reaches down to rub your clit. “Whose pussy is this?”

“Yours baby. All yours,” you whisper.

“That’s fuckin’ right. Mine. Cum for me baby, I wanna feel you.”

With a few more thrusts, you cum around him one last time, the cry you let out slightly strangled by his hand around your throat. He pulls out and jerks himself a few times before you feel ropes of cum splash against your back and ass. He rests his head on your shoulder as he catches his breath and you reach around to run your fingers through his hair.

“Holy hell woman. That was…”

“…fucking incredible,” you finish for him. He breaths put a “yeah” in agreement and kisses your shoulder. “Stay here, let me clean you up.”

He finds a wash cloth and wets it in the bathroom sink. He comes back and gently cleans his spend off you. He lays down with you and spoons you, kissing any part of you he can reach.

“Was that really okay? Was I too rough?” he asks.

“It was way more than okay. That was amazing - and I like it a little rough. Definitely do more of the choking.”

“Noted,” he chuckles softly.

“Will you stay?” you ask, and he doesn’t even have to consider his answer.

“Of course.”

#joel miller #joel miller smut #pedro pascal #pedro pascal smut #the last of us #tlou hbo #tlou series #tlou smut

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risuola · 5 months

Text

LOOKS LIKE WE'RE SNOWED IN FOR THE NIGHT — F. READER x KAMO CHOSO, with whom you got stuck in a cabin

A fireplace, a nice blanket, a bunch of snow and the twinkling lights on the Christmas tree… for some it might sound like a perfect way to spend the night during the festive season, but not when you’re stuck in a cabin in the middle of nowhere with your biggest enemy. And it’s cold.

cw: smut, enemies to lovers, oral (f. receiving), angst-ish vibe, death mentioned (I put it as a warning, but honestly, if you're into jjk you're probably used to it, just sayin'), reader discretion is advised — 2,9k words

kissmas masterlist

“Looks like we’re snowed in for the night,” Choso pointed, making few futile attempts to push the doors open. “I can force the way out but I doubt you’re gonna survive it.” He added, venomous tone evident in his otherwise calm and low voice.

You groaned, pinching the bridge of your nose. This is horrible, you thought, it couldn’t possibly get worse than that. The cabin, secluded and nestled deep in the woods, once a welcoming refuge from the cold, was now a claustrophobic cage trapping you and Choso inside. The doors, blocked by the snow piled high behind them were impossible to open and the windows – old and grime-stained – covered with ice, offered no escape. The interiors, now cleared out of the cursed spirit that resided in here scaring the owners away, were as cozy as they could be with warm colors of the creaking wooden floors and the twinkling lights on the Christmas tree, that funny enough was the only thing that still was working inside. The furniture was faded and worn-down by the humid air, the cobwebs decorating every corner.

The task at hand was simple enough – get in, exorcise, get out – but the snow and the cold were making everything more difficult, not to mention the man you had to share the experience with. It was a part of introducing the Death Painting into the jujutsu society and a silent attempt to make the two of you fonder of each other, but the result proved itself to be starkly different, when you got stuck with him for the night, or god knows how long.

“Damn,” you groaned finally, realizing there’s nothing you can do to make the situation better. No escape, no signal, not even a goddamn kettle that would work.

“Looks like you’re really screwed, huh?” Choso mocked you, a smirk twisting his features because he knew – he just knew that you’re not gonna make it through the night and though he enjoyed the idea of watching you freeze to death, he involuntarily threw some more wood into the fire to keep it alive.

“I’m perfectly fine, fuck you,” you snapped, glaring at his stupid handsome face from your place across the room, hoping silently that maybe once in this world a glare could kill.

You and Choso had always been on opposite sides. Your fights always end up in blood, there was little to no respect between you two, and though in a fight you two were able to work together, outside of it, it was a much different story. You just couldn’t stand each other, you could never put a finger on the reason why, but you just never clicked. Always having different opinions, always too stubborn to let go and not even once agreeing on a plan of work. You trusted him just enough to know he will most likely not kill you in your sleep.

Now, as the sound of the howling wind outside was constantly reminding you on the dire situation, the storm outside showing no signs of letting up, the pressure between you and him seemed to reach a breaking point. At first, you moved through the cabin, walking back and forth, avoiding each other’s gaze and trying to ignore the fact you were trapped together. “Sit quiet and stop being annoying,” you growled at him, hating the way he was sprawled comfortably on the little sofa while you were feeling more and more cold as the hours were passing by. Kamo and his damn temperature regulation.

You had been fighting constantly since you arrived, each blaming the other for the predicament you were in. You argued and hurled insults at each other, both trying to assert dominance over the other. You were constantly on the edge, you bickered until both of you were that close to exploding. You fought about everything, from the mission to the tiny space you were forced to share. You could barely stand the sound of each other’s breathing, much less the sight of each other’s faces and the constant, near proximity. It was only a matter of time one of you snapped.

It felt claustrophobic, nearly – the way only four walls were surrounding you and no matter how hard you tried, you couldn’t quite navigate yourself through the treacherous environment. You had no idea what exactly was oh-so wrong with this place. A desolate cabin with nothing but cold air and the palpable tension between you and Choso was slowly taking a toll on you. Harsh winter wind howled outside and it was clear that your spirits matched its bitterness. The twinkling, colorful lights adorning the mismatched Christmas tree in the corner did nothing to warm up the bleakness of the place.

Hours passed and you got tired of the banter. Choso noticed how slowly you became, quiet, less talkative. It became easier and easier to outsmart you as the cold was taking a toll on your body. Your retorts were less sharp, a little delayed as the temperature went even lower along with the night progressing.

“You’re gonna die in here?” He asked, his tone as nonchalant as ever, but it was getting to him that you might actually die that night. It was fun while it lasted and you did an excellent job in making him believe that you’re gonna survive the night, that you’re fine. He allowed his eyes, that up until that point were closed as he was resting on the sofa, to look at your form. You were shivering, seated on the furry carpet near the fireplace and though you were as close to the heat as it was possible, it didn’t do much to help you. Your breath was visible and you were constantly rubbing your hands together in hopes to stop them from going numb.

“I’m fine,” you said again, your voice much punier than you intended it to be and Kamo found it amusing how you forced yourself to sound strong, when in reality, you were so small and weak and vulnerable.

“Oh, are you?” The question had mocking qualities that Choso couldn’t hold back. “You know, all it takes is for you to ask nicely and I might consider warming you up.”

“Fuck you.” Oh, you were so stubborn. He shrugged and kept observing you.

The cabin fell quiet. The air was thick with tension and the only sounds were the occasional drip of water from the ceiling, crackling of fire in the fireplace and the soft tickling of a clock. The rattling of the windows in the wind accompanied the cacophony.

“Isn’t the big, strong sorceress now uncharacteristically quiet?” He joked once again, and you could have sworn that even in the freezing cold, he had an ability to make your blood boil. “Cat got your tongue?”

“I miss the times when paintings were not talking,” you retorted, wrapping yourself tighter in the imitation of a blanket you found laying around. “You have no idea how much I’d love to exorcise your half-cursed ass.”

“As if you were ever gonna be strong enough to put a harm onto me,” he said, pushing himself up from the couch. “Besides, you might wanna pick your words carefully. You’re at my mercy right now.”

“I’d rather be eaten by a polar bear than be at your mercy.”

“Oh, that would be a cool death, right?” He laughed, a taunting tone piercing the air and your soul, it seemed. “Or a curse. It would sound much better in the report later if I told your friends that you lost your life in battle, with bravery and strength, yeah? For sure it’s more appealing than a lame reason like freezing to death.”

“Oh, shut up…” you sighed, leaning your cheek on one of your knees. You kept them tightly pressed to your chest, a desperate attempt of storing any leftover heat along your torso, but it did little to nothing. “Come on, get your ass over there.”

“I already told you, you have to ask me nicely.”

“That’s as nice as I’m gonna get.”

“So that’s as close as you’re gonna get me,” he smirked, teasing you beyond decency, well aware of how delicate was a situation you were now in. To him, cold was nothing more than an inconvenience. In all honesty, he could break the doors open and just go through the snow during night and he would be just fine, but you… it was a different story and truth is that he stayed in the cabin only because of you.

“Choso, please, don’t be a dick, I’m freezing to death, literally,” you whined, forgetting about your pride and prioritizing the survival. “Please?”

“Much better,” Choso chuckled and moved from the sofa to the floor, sitting behind you with his legs on both sides of your frame. “Loosen up a little,” he ordered, throwing away your blanket and as his arm sneaked around your waist, he pulled you into himself, your back now pressed against his chest.

“Oh god…” you whimpered, shifting your position and wrapping yourself around him. He was hot and it felt like the heat was emitting from him, seeping onto you the moment you made contact with his muscular frame. You pushed your face against his neck, nuzzling your cold nose into his warm skin.

“Aren’t you a greedy little thing?” He commented, putting on an indifferent, snarky mask but inside, he was feeling things. It was odd, it was new. He wasn’t exactly an expert in romantic situations, in fact besides few really brief adventures with women, it was the first time he was actually somewhat intimate. Choso’s mind was in a limbo, trying to fight the thoughts of his body which were going crazy. The way your frame fit so closely to his, the way you turned your face and melted into him… it was almost too much. Thoughts raced around his head a mile a minute.

“Aren’t you a scrooge for letting me freeze while you’re that hot?”

“Well, I’m your partner on the job, not your personal heater,” he shrugged, allowing his hand to run along the curves of your waist and hip. “Also, I’d assume that the low temperature is a natural habitat for a cold bitch like you.”

“Ouch,” you acted hurt but couldn’t hold back a chuckle. “I have a great idea, why don’t you shut up?”

“Oh, did that sting you, princess?”

„I’m serious, you should shut the hell up,” it was a mumble, an unharmful one, but Choso must have gotten a different impression.

It was a flash. It took you few seconds to even register what just happened and once you did, you were already helpless beneath him. The soft, furry carpet now tickling you in the face as Choso kept you, chest down and pinned to the ground. It annoyed you how easily one of his hands kept both of your wrists pushed up above your head. You felt his weight on top of your thighs, his crotch pressed tightly to your ass and his other hand supporting his weight on the wooden floor.

“Now, if you’re gonna act like a brat, I’m gonna treat you as one,” he said, his voice low and close to your ear as he leaned down and gathered some of your hair to the side to uncover your face to his eyes. Your hopeless pulls and wriggles did nothing to loosen up his hold. If anything, his fingers only tightened their grip around your wrists.

“Get off me,” you groaned, trying to find your way out of the situation, but the movements of your body seemed to make it worse. The man hummed darkly, aiming a mean slap at your ass.

“Stop wiggling,” he warned, smirking at the way your body tensed for a moment. He couldn’t tell what’s gotten him into such a playful mood. Maybe it was all the thick air between you two finally exposing its true colors – something once filled with anger and hostility, now crackled with an undeniable sexual tension.

“Did you just slap me?” You couldn’t believe it, but you’d sooner be dead than you’ll admit out loud that it somehow felt good.

“I did,” he said nonchalantly. “You whined you’re cold, huh? Well, guess I’ll have to warm you up for real,” Choso added, now grinning mischievously. “Be a good girl, I know you can do it. Now I’ll let go of your hands and you’ll turn around, yeah?”

You hummed in response, not really sure what’s gotten into him but you were far from minding it so you flipped to your back as soon as he gave you a chance. Still on top of you, Choso kept a controlling grip over your hip, his touch burning your bare skin over there.

The fire crackled and flickered, casting warm, dancing shadows on the two of you but you couldn’t tell if the sparkle in his eyes was a reflection of it or just pure lust. The latter, you thought, catching his gaze as it scanned your form, paying a little more attention to your lips, chest and the little strip of skin that showed from underneath your blouse.

Kamo was enticed by you, fascinated even, by the way his body was suddenly yearning for you. The unusual desire overflown his senses and he found himself inching closer and closer, until he was just one, mere breath away from your mouth. He could feel you gasp, see the look of your eyes and if he wouldn’t know better he would be convinced there was lust in them too.

“Nervous?” He whispered, with a slight shadow of teasing painted all over his stupidly handsome features. His nose, now brushing against yours initiated the touch, a prelude of sorts to what was going to come and Choso chuckled at the lack of response from you. It was, in a way, an opening for you to push him away, to set a boundary, to lay down the consent but you made no effort to do any of that. Instead, you let your fingers to find his hair and once you pulled at them, there was no going back.

His lips pressed into yours. The kiss and the heat from your bodies warmed the cold air around you, melting the icy tension that lingered between you as you, too, melted below him. The time seemed to slow down and the melody of howling wind and fire was now a white noise to the soft sounds and whimpers you were making. Your mouth parted and Choso took the invitation eagerly, running his tongue along your lower lip and reaching yours. They twirled and twisted, danced and explored each other and you swore at the moment that the world around you had fallen away.

It didn’t take long since you were bare, completely exposed underneath his muscular body; the cold air around you a stark contrast to the extreme heat that was coming off of Choso. He was all around you, exploring your shapes with touches so tender, you couldn’t help but feel worshipped. The way he touched you, the way he kissed and drank every inch of your skin made your heart rumble against your ribcage. He went down, tracing the ups and downs of your figure with wet, sloppy stamps of his lips until he reached your thighs – both of which he kissed with as much attention.

It was intoxicating. Kamo felt as if everything around him twirled and he was drowning in the soft feeling of your plush skin. The curves of you filled every bit of his mind. Addicting, you were, so addicting he couldn’t find a strength to pull back and before he knew it, his tongue was already lapping at your clit. The beautiful melody of your moans filling his ears as he worked his mouth over the puffy bud, sucking and licking simultaneously. Waves and waves of pleasure you felt, spreading from your core and reaching every part of you. It was hot, it was like nothing else you’ve ever experienced.

“Oh god, Choso~” you were whining, a surprise to you cause up until this time you would swear you’re not the one to make such lewd noises during sex. All of that went out the window when it came to the man between your legs. He was flicking his tongue, twirling it and pressing it flat; every movement centered and focused, sharing one objective – to abuse the most sensitive, sweet spot on your body. He took his time, it was wet and sloppy, it was messy. The silky sensation of his tongue, warm and soft… oh, man has a talent.

Your breath was stuttering, hands grabbing the fluffy fibers of the carpet as your thighs were trembling and the urge to squeeze them over Choso’s head was slowly becoming irresistible. The way he was making out with your clit drove you insane, it brought you to the edge and pushed you over. You came undone and you came hard. He wasn’t stopping, just slowing down and leading you through the high as if it was his job and the very core of his existence.

“Feeling warmer?” He asked, once slowly coming back up above you. His face was now a real painting, covered with your essence and his lips, swollen and wet, stretched into a grin of satisfaction as he was taking in the sight of your breathless form. You nodded, barely registering the subtle teasing undertone he had in his voice. “Good. But I’m going to make you even hotter.”

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whaledenwtf · 6 months

Text

Gale Dekarios X Sorcerer!Reader - Spin the Bottle

The Gale girlies of tiktok got their clutches in me and I want him. I already had my hands full with wanting Astarion AND Halsin but now Gale too? I can't believe I've dedicated so much time to PIXELS. Anyways, here's some wizard sex. :)

AO3 LINK: Here Baldur's Gate 3 Masterlist: Here

Warnings: afab!reader and Male Smut, Body Worship ( Female Receiving), Creampie, Oral (Female Receiving), Misuse of the Mage Hand Cantrip (oh yeah), Praise Kink, Spin the Bottle Trope, Angst too!!! Sorry

I try to keep Gale as close to his character as possible but the idea of even entertaining Mystra in the fic for more than half a moment fills me with anger. So I try to only bring her up during the angst.

WORD COUNT: 5325

The last few days... weeks? Have been awful. Ever since you met all your companions in the wreckage of the nautiloid ship (and evidently, the wreckage of any normalcy) you've spent every day exploring the Sword Coast looking for answers and seeking guidance on how to rid yourselves of the tadpole. During the day, the heat is cooled by the breeze of the ocean, but nothing can quell the stress of the band of misfits you find yourself surrounded by.

"We should head to the cre'che. You may be too far gone, too weak, but I need the guidance of Queen Vlaakith." A chorus of groans echo Lae'zel's words.

"All offense, but I do not want a githyanki prodding in my skull." Shadowheart tells her annoyed. You roll your eyes, bracing yourself for the oncoming fight. You've been around them long enough to know that the daily Lae'zel and Shadowheart fight will have to be broken up by you, again. Lae'zel unsheathes her sword and points it towards Shadowheart.

"Just because you are a k'chakhi, doesn't mean (Y/N) can't understand reason." You look around and see everyone look annoyed. Well, almost everyone. Astarion always watches the fights with glee, bright smiles and wicked intentions.

"Excuse me? What did you just call me? I'll make sure Shar punishes you greatly." Shadowheart pulls out her mace. You can already tell this will get bloody. You walk in between them and put your arms out.

"Enough. For gods sake, both of you need to relax. You're both acting unreasonable." You cringe the moment you say those words.

"Unreasonable?!" They both respond, aiming their weapons at you. You roll your eyes, pulling out your staff.

"Point those weapons at me again and I'll make sure to cast a Hold Person so well you'll be stuck here until you transform." Everyone's mouths drop open at your words. You were a sorcerer, usually kind tempered, or you'd like to think so. This has been the tenth time you had to break up a fight between the two in the last three days. It was sickening, and you were at your wits' end. Astarion giggles with glee, clapping his hands at your words. You point your staff at him too.

"I'll cast it on you too-" He pouts at your words, no longer finding the threat fun when it's directed towards him. "Now all of you shut the hells up so we can go find more answers on what to do. No more fighting." Everyone nods silently. You exhale loudly and smile.

"Now let's go." Lae'zel scoffs, sheathing her weapon and bumping Shadowhearts shoulder as she walks past. You turn away and lead the group forward, going towards the Goblin Camp that is holding Arch Druid Halsin captive; the druids in the grove said he may have information on your tadpoles.

"I'm afraid that I cannot heal you. These tadpoles are different, and have magic that even someone as experienced as I cannot remove them." Halsin tells you sadly. The group groans at the tall elf's words. After completely eradicating all the goblins and other beasts in the camp, Halsin is still unable to help.

"However, I was able to track that they are coming from the Shadow Cursed lands, and may be tied to the Moonrise Towers." This was news! Not as good as you were hoping, but its a lead! A start to an otherwise longer journey.

"I appreciate you trying Halsin. Thank you." You tell him quietly. He nods, his hand on your shoulder.

"I should be the one thanking you. You have freed me and explained what Kagha was planning to do to the Emerald Grove-" Astarion cuts off the Druid.

"Yes yes, we get it. We helped. Seems like we did it for no reason." Without turning your gaze away from Halsin, you wack him with your staff. After a loud thump and Astarion's "ow", you smile at the elf.

"No need to thank me, Halsin. Your information will guide us onward." He nods, frowning for a moment.

"Once I get back from ending the Rite of Thorns, I will meet you at your camp and join you on your journey. I hate to ask more of you, but I need assistance with eradicating the Shadow Curse."

"More help?!" Astarion exclaims. You turn around, ready to strike again, but Gale beats you to it. He does you a solid and wacks him upside his head with a large tome. Astarion flinches, complaining about his hair. You smile at Gale in thanks, who winks in response to you before you turn back to Halsin, blushing.

"I'm sure in ridding the curse we may find more information about the parasites." Halsin engulfs you in a hug, and you laugh patting his back.

"Thank you, little one. I will trek to the Grove now. You are more than welcome to join me." You turn to look at all your companions, some of which seem eager to go back to the Grove.

"I think we should, just incase a rampant goblin attacks you again." Halsin chuckles, before letting go of you.

"Then let us make haste."

At the Grove, you watch as Halsin berates Kagha. Afterwards you see Zevlor run up to you.

"We must thank you (Y/N)! We gathered all our gold so we can give you something for your troubles." You watch as the man pulls out a small pouch, filled with everyone's gold. You felt pity, as the need to do good outweighed any reward, especially one so small. You knew taking their gold would leave them only with the clothes on their backs, and the supplies they had.

"Oh Zevlor, I cannot take this from you. Keep it for Baldur's Gate. We are just grateful we were able to help in time." He shakes his head.

"At least let us thank you. We can celebrate at your camp and share our wine and food with you." You ponder this.

"Something to destress may be necessary, lest we hear Lae'zel and Shadowheart fight again." Gale whispers in your ear. Your breath hitches. Ever since you pulled Gale of Waterdeep from the collapsing portal, you've been smitten. Despite his very human nature, his soft brown eyes, beautiful features and prose had caught your attention. He was gorgeous, and your heart yearned for him, mind, body and soul.

"If I have to hear the word cre'che one more time I might gauge my eyes out." You whisper back. He chuckles, the sound warm and it shoots straight to your core. You make your decision.

"I think a celebration with some wine, food and good company would be a great reprise from all the stress. We'll see you at sundown." The group cheers, excited for some wine and relaxation. This seems like the first decision everyone agreed with. You smile at them as Zevlor walks away, telling the tieflings about the celebration.

You were already drunk off the vinegar-like wine, teetering on the edge of consciousness and depravity. You see all your companions scattered across the camp; some entertaining the company of the tieflings, others drinking on their lonesome. This won't do! Your drunk mind exclaims. Before you could act on it, Astarion walks up to you, smirking.

"Well, hello to you sweetheart." You blush at his forwardness. It seems everyday you spend together he gets more bold in his words and touches, but he isn't Gale.

"H-hello Astarion." You tell him, stuttering from your inebriated state. His cold hand meets your arm, and you startle, sobering up momentarily.

"Just a hello? I was hoping for a better form of greeting." You roll your eyes at his theatrics.

"And what would that form of greeting be, my beloved?" You ask him sarcastically. He grins, his fangs glistening in the lowlight of the campfire and lanterns scattered about.

"Perhaps a kiss? Maybe a night, with yours truly? I can make you feel things no man has ever made you feel before~" He grabs your waist and pulls you close.

"No things a man has made me feel before? That's cute, but won't work on me." You tell him, slapping the side of his face as though he were a child.

"Won't work? Darling, it's true! I will make you crave my touch~" He whispers to you. You laugh in his face, and he frowns at your response.

"You should go into comedy with such jokes!" He lets go of you and pouts.

"You're no fun." You smirk at his words.

"Oh I'm plenty of fun. You're just not my type." He is taken aback.

"I'm everyone's type, sweetheart. You're just lying to yourself- or your standards are quite low." You really can't entertain his theatrics any longer, your eyes already looking around for Gale.

"Alright Astarion. As lovely as this conversation was, I've got to go." You pull away from him, spotting the wizard near his tent, a glass of wine in one hand and tome in the other. You rush towards him, before your journey is cut off by Karlach.

"H-hey soldier!" You smile at the tiefling.

"Hi Karlach. Are you enjoying yourself?" She nods, her body swaying.

"Of course! Between my engine sort-of working for now, and the booze, I'm on cloud nine!" She tells you, spinning in place. You giggle at her theatrics, before stabilizing her when she gets too dizzy.

"I was thinking of playing spin the bottle! Now that I can't burn people it would be fun to play-" She gives you puppy dog eyes. You feel bad for Karlach, you really do. A victim to Zariel, and now to her infernal engine, you can tell she just wants to be hugged and loved. You hug her, grinning. She grips you back tightly, sighing into your arms.

"Let's gather the others! Can't wait for the inevitable Lae'zel and Shadowheart kiss." You both laugh. You let go of each other and rally the others. You manage to get Lae'zel, Shadowheart, Gale, Wyll, Karlach, Astarion to join you near the campfire. Even Halsin decides to join, after you ask him sweetly. You're all sitting in a circle, with Halsin to your left and Astarion on your right. Gale is sitting directly infront of you, and you catch his gaze more than once. You decide that if anyone asks, the blush is not from the handsome wizard, but the booze. Yeah that'll work, you think to yourself.

"Can't wait to kiss you, sweetheart." Astarion tells you. You roll your eyes, taking a sip of a new bottle of wine.

"Get in line, fangs." Karlach tells him, smirking at you. You laugh at her words.

"Alright, alright. Let's get to kissing!" You smirk at everyone. After a minute of downing the bottle in your hand, you empty it and put it in the center of the circle.

"Now that little alchy finished drinking, who wants to spin first?" Astarion speaks up, smirking at your companions. With enthusiasm, Karlach shouts.

"ME ME ME!" You chuckle at her reaction, and give her the go-ahead. You watch her buzzing in her seat as she spins the bottle. It does one, two, three spins before landing on Wyll. They look at eachother, eyes wide.

"Oh shit-" Karlach whispers. The whole circle starts chanting, and after a minute of tense stillness they kiss. You all cheer, laughing and smiling. Then they don't let go, still kissing. The cheering gets louder,

"Oh gods, split it up." Astarion says, fake gagging. They split, gasping. Both of them are blushing, and you smirk.

"Had fun?" You tease them. They look away from each other, realizing the implications of their kiss.

"Alright, now Wyll's gotta spin!" You tell them, grinning. Wyll shuffles closer to the bottle, watching it spin until it lands on Halsin. You gasp, before cheering. Their kiss was quick, but you could tell Halsin was in control. He chuckles as they part, and Wyll sits back down. Halsin spins the bottle, and it spins for a solid ten seconds until it lands on Shadowheart.

"Now this will be interesting." Astarion whispers into your ear. You giggle into your hand, nodding. Your eyes split from Halsin and Shadowheart to see Gale watching you and Astarion's closeness with a frown. Before you could give him a look, you hear cheering. Your eyes glance back at Halsin, who pulls Shadowheart onto his lap and grips her tightly as they are kissing. Your eyes widen, lips parting.

"Oh." After a minute, they split, panting. Shadowheart stands from his lap, her legs left unstable from the powerful kiss. She fans herself for a second before spinning the bottle. It barely does a full turn before it lands on Lae'zel. You start laughing loudly.

"Absolutely not." She says loudly, already reaching for the bottle.

"Hey! No respins!" Karlach says, eyebrows furrowed. Shadowheart huffs. Lae'zel hasn't spoken up, just watching Shadowheart's plight with a grin.

"Fine. But watch yourself, githyanki. I will not hesitate to end you if there's any funny business." Lae'zel rolls her eyes, before pulling Shadowheart into a passionate kiss. Everyone's jaws drop as they kiss, all their verbal fights (and some physical, mind you) seemingly have turned into sexual tension. Lae'zel pulls Shadowheart into her, before pushing her under her. After hearing someone moan, you decide to cut it out.

"Okay, stop! Holy hells, if you're gonna do that do it in the privacy of your own damn tent." You tell them, grimacing at the sounds coming from them. Without a word, Lae'zel picks up Shadowheart and walks away from the circle. You guffaw, before turning back to the other companions, eyes wide.

"Um-" Astarion cuts you off, smirking.

"Alright! Since they left its my turn!" He claps, before spinning the bottle. It lands on you, and you groan.

"Come here, sweetheart." He whispers. As he closes his eyes, you give him a quick peck and turn away before he could wonder what happened.

"That was hardly a kiss!" He shouts, crossing his arms.

"Oh, boo hoo Astarion." You tell him, laughing. You spin the bottle. It does one, two, three, four turns, before it lands on the object of your attentions. Gale's eyes widen, and he freezes up.

"Pucker up wizard, it'll be done before you know it." Astarion sulks from beside you. You crawl towards him, blush deepening. When you get into his personal space, you sit down on your haunches and get comfortable. His hand goes to the side of your face, while the other goes to your waist. Your arms wrap around his neck and you meet in the middle.

This kiss was unlike any other you had in your life. The world around you disappeared, sounds muffled. All you could feel was Gale and his magical essence. You became tuned to one another, magic flowing freely between you both. His hands move around, the one on your hip going to the small of your back and pulling you closer, as the one that was holding your face goes to the back of your neck to hold you to him. Your lips open when his tongue traces the seam of your lips. Your tongues battle for dominance, and you moan into his mouth. That seems to snap him out of the trance, and he separates from you. You can see his deep blush, and he gets up and runs off. Your eyes follow him, and you furrow your brows.

"If he ran away because of your kissing skills, maybe I should be grateful you only gave me a peck." Astarion says. Your eyes snap back to his.

"My kissing isn't the problem. I'll go check on him." You get up, dusting the dirt off your legs and walking towards his tent. When you turn around, to glance at your companions, you see Karlach and Wyll cheering on Astarion and Halsin as they kiss. You roll your eyes and look forward, going into a jog so you could reach Gale's tent sooner.

When you get to his tent, you cough outside so he can hear you. You hear him mutter a "come in" so you enter slowly. When you enter his tent, your eyes widen. Its larger on the inside, and looks homely. There are towers of tomes and books, some old and some new, and your eyes are taking in the beauty of the bigger-on-the-inside tent that reflects Gale's personality. When your eyes stop wandering, you notice Gale sitting on the edge of his large bed, hands holding his head as he sits dejected.

"I wanted to check in on you." You tell him quietly, walking closer to him. He sighs, and looks up at you.

"I'm sorry-" You reach him in two short strides, and kneel so you are below him. His eyes follow your movements, and you see the sorrow and sadness lurking in his beautiful brown eyes.

"You never need to apologize to me Gale. Are you okay?" You ask him softly. He sighs again, frowning.

"I'm not." He says quietly. You know he's upset, by the succinctness of his words.

"You can always tell me what's wrong. You know I care about you-all of you." You save yourself at the last moment. Now's probably not the time to admit your feelings, especially when he doesn't seem receptive to your advances.

"I'm just-" He exhales loudly. "You're not the issue here, (Y/N). I am. Everything I have done, everything I do, was for her. Now I feel lost, between the bomb inside my chest and the tadpole in my head, I feel as though I have no control over anything." Your hands gently takes one of his, holding him softly.

"You are the most talented wizard I have ever met, Gale of Waterdeep. You have control over everything, more than most of us." He shakes his head, eyes getting misty.

"You're wrong, you know. I have lost favour with my goddess, and have lost control over my emotions it seems. I just ran away from you and you still check in on me. Gale's Folly, I once named my demise. But it seems everything I do adds to my torment, and it affects others." You go to deny him but he cuts you off. He turns to the side, looking in the distance.

"I have always known my purpose, since I was young. Hone my powers, control the weave. Serve my goddess. The universe that was once kind to me has turned against me, against my reverence for Mystra. I was cursed, am cursed. In the deepest darkest shadows of my folly, I met you. A sorcerer who I respect and admire greatly. Now I am destined to lose that too-" You grip his hand tightly.

"You have not lost me yet, Gale." You whisper gently to him. His face snaps back to yours, his eyes searching yours for the truth. All he sees is your honesty and admiration.

"I do not deserve you." He whispers, shedding a tear. You wipe the tear away, holding his face.

"It is I who does not deserve you, Gale. You've been hurt, badly. I would never expect anything from you more than what you are ready to tell me. You must know how important you are to us, to me." He looks down at his lap, pondering.

"I've always felt the need to do anything to serve Mystra. Even sacrifice the deepest parts of myself for her, if she had asked. Many times, she had. But you; you ask nothing more from me. You give without taking, and I don't understand how you think I am deserving of your kindness." He whispers.

"Gale. You are magnificent. I care about you, more than I care for the others. Ever since I pulled you out of that portal I knew that you'd be someone I'd care for. Since then, all I've done is fallen more for you. You don't need to reciprocate any feelings, but you have to know how much someone cares for you- I care for you. You are worth much more than Mystra has ever given you credit for." His eyes snap back to yours, widening at your words.

"I did not realize-" You cut him off gently, the hand on his face squeezing slightly.

"I was afraid to say anything. I understand your trepidation regarding your situation. If I was in your position I would have given up long ago. But please, please do not think for a moment you are not worthy of love. You are kind, good of heart and deserving of more than most of us in camp." He pulls you into a hug. Your arms find themselves around him, squeezing him tightly. Your head finds itself in the crevice of his neck, inhaling his scent of old books and hazelnut; a scent you could only describe as Gale.

"I'm sorry. I do care about you, deeply. I have not felt such a way since Mystra, but sitting here with you now, I have never felt such acceptance and understanding. I'm afraid of what darkness the future holds, but it does not seem as dim if you are there with me." He tells you into your ear. You sigh, nudging your nose deeper into his neck. You leave a soft kiss on the side of his neck before pulling away.

"I'll help you rid yourself of the Netherese Orb, and then the parasite. You are not alone." His hands grip the sides of your face.

"I can never feel alone when I'm with you." He pulls you into a kiss, and the adoration he feels for you translates in the movement of his lips. You kiss him softly, before pulling away.

"I do not want to take advantage of you when you are feeling so low." You gaze at him, admiring his looks. His eyes, long dried from the tears, shine in the light of his tent.

"I want to be here with you. No advantages are being taken. Please-" He pleads, begging for you. You bite your lip, and his eyes follow the action. He rushes forward, sliding off the side of the bed and kneels in front of you. He pulls you into a kiss, desperation and need coursing through his blood. You moan against his soft lips, all worries and fears dissipating into the night air. He pulls away from you, panting.

"Those sounds... You're entire being... No magic can compare to your beauty." He whispers, his breath fanning against your lips. You blush under his gaze and words, unable to reply.

"I want to show you my love the way gods do, please let me." He tells you against your lips, kissing you again. Your hands cradle his neck, thumbs trailing up and down the column. You pull away again, shaking your head.

"I don't need magic, or gods. Not when I have you right here infront of me." He pulls away, a deep blush on his face. You notice that it goes down his neck, reaching his chest; as well as the tips of his ears, which are also tinged crimson at your words.

"Are you sure? I can make you feel things, see things.... experience things beyond your wildest imaginations-" You cut him off, pouting.

"You already make me feel those things, Gale. Can't I have the man in front of me? I am no goddess, and you needn't seek my approval. You already have it." He nods, before taking your hands and pushing you forward so you're laying against the floor. His fingers link with yours and pull them above your head. You're panting, breasts heaving and grazing his own chest. His gaze trails from your features down to your neck, then further down to your chest.

"Gods. Seeing you in such a state makes me reconsider if I am truly cursed. You're ambrosial." His face goes to your neck, peppering kisses and licks up and down. You moan again, your arousal climbing higher. Your hips begin to grind the air, praying for solace, pleading for his touch. He bites down on you, blunt teeth tickling your skin. You gasp out, back arching so your bodies are fully touching.

"Please, please Gale." You whimper, eyes closed and lips parted.

"What do you need, my love?" He asks you huskily, still licking and kissing your neck.

"I need you." You wail out, eyes watering from his teasing.

"Not as much as I need you, my sweet." With a wave of his hand, both your clothes dissipate. His eyes wander, admiring your body. Your hands go to his chest, caressing the hair there. For a moment, your fingers hover over the tattoo, before touching it with such gentleness. He exhales at your touch, eyes closing while your hands wander. Your hands go to his shoulders where they caress the tense muscle there. He smiles before opening his eyes, adoration shining in them.

"You are a goddess." You squirm under his words, blushing deeply. His hands start to caress the sides of your torso, going up to your breasts. His thumbs start rubbing against your peaks, the rough texture of his fingers making you whimper. Your hands squeeze his shoulders, as you look at him pleadingly.

"Gale, don't tease me." His eyes glace up to your face, as he lowers himself closer to your chest.

"Don't worry my sweet sorcerer, I'll make sure this night is magical." His lips take in one of your nipples, as he begins to suck and bite. You gasp, your nails digging into his shoulders. As he worships your nipple, his other hand begins to play roughly with the other one. His empty hand waves, and a mage hand appears and takes both your wrists in its mystical grasp, placing them above your head like Gale had done moments before. He moves to the other nipple, giving it the same treatment.

You whimper under his actions, panting and arching into him. One of his hands trails down to the apex of your thighs, and begins to caress your core. You exhale loudly through your nose as you bite your lip, groaning. He comes off of your chest with a pop! and grins at you.

"My sweet, are you this wet for me? Can't wait to spread you open and taste you for myself-" His hands spread your legs as far as you can go, as he lowers down. You feel his breathe on your core. For a moment, nothing happens, but then he summons two more mage hands to hold your thighs open as he begins to taste you.

His tongue licks the side of your thighs, as he places open mouthed kisses on your hot skin. He does this for a minute, just worshipping your skin, and then he licks up your core. He moans into you as he tastes your slick, eyes closing.

"Ambrosial, just as I suspected-" He opens his eyes and looks at you as you watch him attentively. "I can't wait to taste you until I bring you to other planes of existence." He attacks your pussy with fervor, licking and prodding at you. His ambidextrous tongue works wonders on you, he spreads you open further with his fingers, as he brings his tongue into you. You gasp at the intrusion, hands struggling against the grip of the mage hand, wishing to push him further into you. As he continues to taste you, his concentration wavers and the mage hands dissipate. Your hands latch into his dark curly locks, tugging at him as you continuously plea don't stop. He chuckles into your skin, as he pulls away.

"I won't stop worshipping you until the end of the night, my beloved. I promised you magic, and you'll take it like a good girl." You whimper at his words, slick leaving you. He licks it up from the source, moaning into your skin. As he goes to take your clit into his mouth, two of his thick fingers caress at your entrance before going in to the hilt and curling upwards. You caterwaul at the attention, hands gripping his locks tighter. He licks and sucks at your clit, fingers pistoning in and out of you. You feel your nirvana quickly approaching.

"G-Gale I'm close, so so close. Please-" You beg him, eyes closed. He hums against your clit as he curls his fingers curve upwards. You've hit your peak, back arching into the sky and thighs tightening against his head. You see explosions of colours behind your eyelids, and your body is weightless for many moments. As you come back from your high, you open your eyes to see Gale admiring your face; his fingers lazily pumping into you. You clench around his fingers as you pant, eyes still unfocused.

"O-oh-" You whisper, head hitting the floor as you close your eyes to try to get your bearings. Gale chuckles at you as he removes his fingers from you, tasting your spend on his skin. As your breathing gets back to normal, you open your eyes again to gaze at Gale.

"I want to please you-" He cuts you off, picking you up off the floor with relative ease and depositing you onto the bed.

"If you do that I know I will not be able to please you as long as I'd like." He tells you honestly as he licks his lips. You surge forward, capturing his mouth against yours. You can still taste yourself on his tongue, and it excites you further. Your legs lock around his waist and pull him into you, his cockhead bumping into your clit. You split from each other, admiring one another.

"Take what you want from me, Gale of Waterdeep." He moans at your words, and grasps his cock in his hand.

"You don't know how you affect me, (Y/N). Your words, your scent, your taste. I can't wait to take you and make you mine." As he speaks, he thrusts into you in one quick motion, bottoming out inside of you. You both gasp, the connection unlike any other you had ever experienced in your life.

"Please make me yours Gale. I'll be anything you want, do anything you want. Just make me yours." He begins to thrust into you, his pace rough and deep. He continues to hit that spot, and you feel your orgasm coming again.

"I'm s-so close." You whisper into his ear, kissing the side of his face. He turns and pulls you back into a passionate kiss. He pulls your legs over his shoulders, and you feel his tip kiss your cervix. You gasp against his lips, panting.

"That's right, sweetheart. Let go-" His words bring you to your crest, and you babble as your brain short circuits. As you reach your peak, he does as well, moaning out your name against the column of your neck. His hips stutter to a stop as he releases inside of you, the clenching of your pussy too much for him. He collapses onto you, kissing your neck and whispering sweet nothings to you. After a moment, you pull him into a gentle kiss, savouring the moment with him.

"You are perfect." He whispers to you as you part. Your hand caresses the side of his face.

"You are the perfect one. I hope I can spend the rest of this journey reminding you." You tell him softly. He closes his eyes, smiling at your words.

"How can I ever consider myself less than when I am in your embrace?" You blush, pulling him into a hug. After a moment, he gets up, getting a cloth to clean your mixed spend from between your thighs. Once he deems you clean, he lays back down next to you. You spend the rest of the night cuddling, hushed words of love and appreciation to one another.

The End.

#fanfic #fanfiction #baldur's gate 3 #smut #gale x reader #gale dekarios #gale of waterdeep #bg3 gale #gale my beloved #bg3 #angst with a happy ending #light angst #gale x sorcerer!reader #gale / reader

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spdrvyn · 2 months

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Perhaps a request for Miggy x scientist reader? Reader is a a former Alchemex scientist who used to work with Miguel. They have been working in spider HQ ever since the beginning of spider society. Both of them have been too busy to realize the bottled up feelings and emotions that is about to burst….

breaking beakers

miguel and a reader that's been by his side since day 1. since the treachery of alchemax, you've been loyal to miguel and his cause for protection of the multiverse. read bit by bit how your relationship with miguel develops, even if it's only something as simple as helping him administer rapture.

angst. drug usage (rapture). panic attack. absolutely love this request! i've never written a story where the reader was already a part of miguel's past so this is new and exciting for me. thank you, anon! i put my own twist, i hope you still enjoy reading ♡

dividers by @cafekitsune

breaking breakers

When you got paired up with your workplace's assigned asshole, you were more than concerned for your career than ever.

Miguel wasn't easy from the start. Arguments were one after the other, followed by complete silence in the lab due to the inability of either of you to take accountability. You had never really heard him talk or engage in conversation properly unless it was to scold or correct you for making, according to him, a quintillion mistakes.

It stretched you thin, you were close to asking the higher-ups to give you another partner, but you knew that they would ignore your protests so you put up with it. Besides, talking smack with your friends outside of work helped. Though, you knew that they were getting a little tired from it as well.

After a particularly harsh argument with him, you couldn't retaliate with anything witty to say. You sulked in your own corner of the laboratory for a while, until Miguel silently placed a small, steaming hot cup of coffee on your desk.

That moment had triggered the beginning of your actual relationship. Sometimes, the room would still be strung tight with tension, but it was better than awkwardly hanging around each other and waiting for yet another fight to start. It slowly turned into Miguel giving you rides home, Miguel buying more than just coffee for you, and Miguel staying at your place after he dropped you off.

Then he quit.

Or did he get fired? Liberated, in corporate terms. You didn't know the full story, you got a new lab partner one day, Miguel was gone, there was no coffee on your desk anymore. There was no comfortable silence.

It was difficult to get a hold on him with the moments that followed, you knew well that he had a tendency to brood, but never for this long. He didn't leave you on read, your messages weren't even going through. You searched his name up on social media and found nothing, a thousand other Miguels but not your Miguel. You reached out to his brother after a lot of thinking, but he couldn't come up with an answer either because his family didn't know where he went either.

Perhaps it shouldn't have upset you as much as it should have, Alchemax viewed their employees as expendable toys. You didn't mean to get attached to him, but you had breached that line very long ago ever since the first shouting match. He was your friend now, no corporation was going to get between at least trying to talk again.

When you had gotten a message from an unknown number, there were only two possible answers. A telemarketer or Miguel. Likely possibilities, a fifty percent chance for either. You thanked God that it was the latter.

The power that was held in that conversation had changed the trajectory of your life forever. Miguel helped arrange a time for you to meet, the second you caught sight of him, it erupted a feeling in you that you just couldn't bring yourself to describe.

He still looked like him, but otherwise different. His face looked more sunken in, eyebags, lines you hadn't seen on his face before. He was definitely taller, his physique was more built as well. What caught your attention the most though was his eyes, crimson red and deliberately drained of light.

Miguel, what happened to you?

It was a long, overly extensive talk. You shouldn't have broken down over it, the events that lead up to his timely demise at his job. It wasn't your place to cry over his misfortunes, but he looked like he didn't have it left in him to cry so you took that place for him. Alchemax was your breeding ground for innovation and evolution of human society, a little shady around the edges, but you knew that you'd still be helping people in the end. After this, your hopes in that place had been quashed. Clearly if they were heartless enough to treat one of their top geneticists like this, they wouldn't be any better towards the safety and care of the populus.

So you quit your job immediately. Miguel invited you to Spider Society and you gladly agreed, you were in no position to really decline. Besides, it was a good way to get you back on your feet again. You had become acquainted with the people that passed by in what used to be headquarters back then, Miguel trusted them with his life it seemed (despite him not being able to admit that himself though).

You'd find yourself in HQ more than in your own apartment at that point, you enjoyed being there. You had closer friends, Spider-People were better company than mad scientists anyway. You helped Miguel make this new, exciting thing from foundation to the top. It helped you become more social, it made you more comfortable opening up to people again.

You just didn't know that it was doing quite the opposite with Miguel.

You had blamed yourself for not noticing sooner, for not picking up the details that he wasn't doing as fine as he thought he was. When you found the doors to his office locked, you already felt your heart begin to race. You called out to Lyla and she was more than willing to answer back, "He's going through something, he hasn't really been taking his Rapture doses recently and-"

"Let me handle it," you said, firmly. "I can help him. I can fix it."

Lyla looked at you, just looked. She didn't feel, she wasn't supposed to feel exactly. She could act like it, her programming allowed her that at least. She made perfectly calculated decisions and perfectly calculated reactions to them, when she noticed a problem, she was supposed to fix it.

You weren't as accustomed to Lyla as other people, but you were aware of that as well. In spite of that, she still managed to be the light in conversations most of the time. Literally, when it was the dead of night, just you and Miguel strewing and caking together more reports, she'd find ways to make it more entertaining.

That means if Lyla looked at you like she did, with so much uncertainty and inner conflict. It was like her code turned to beat like a human heart, you could hear it in the swift moment of silent she'd left you in. The hiss and whir to Miguel's office doors reeled you back in, Lyla sighed. She shouldn't sigh, she never sighed.

"Do the right thing," she wished you off. God, I hope so, you thought to yourself.

It was dark, obviously. You were used to it, ever since Miguel told you about how sensitive his senses can get, you didn't really mind at all. There was still light that peeked from the corners, a small monitor here and there, maybe a secret window you just didn't know about. It was cozy sometimes even to evade the blinding sunlight and stay in the darkness with Miguel. But that's not at all what it felt like when you entered. It did not embrace you, it suffocated you.

There was no accompanied noise either, no beeping from a monitor, no whirring of a machine, and no idle chatter with him and Lyla like there would always be. It was the purest form of silence, the sound of your breathing and the small pats of your shoes against the cold, metal ground was all you could hear.

Miguel's platform was placed high up, there was absolutely no way that you could get to him without using a web shooter. Unless you could somehow convince him to lower his platform, which you really didn't want to do in the case you might accidentally say something stupid.

"Miguel?" You yelled, stupidly. Though, it would be more stupid to try and propel yourself up to the height of his platform. One option results in humiliation until the end of your life while the other option could result in the end of your life. You weren't really looking forward to experiencing the latter.

You thought you heard him mumble something, but before you could call out his name again, he answered back. "Get out."

The absence of cruelty in his tone was prominent to you already. He didn't have the heart to speak so coldly to you in the first place. No, he sounded scared, fearful, whether it was of you or himself, you were yet to find out the reason why. The priority right now was to talk to him, properly.

"Are you sure about that? I have a, uh, really important work file that I need you to review! The multiverse is at stake here, Miguel. Come on!"

Silence. For a few seconds. Before you heard the unmistakable click and whir of his platform, it makes its slow descent down towards you. Miguel begun to enter your vision, he had a chair pulled up and he was hunched over on his desk. Rare, you knew he liked to work when standing (oddly enough).

"You're a bad liar," he grumbled, not even facing you as he said it. You sighed as you stepped onto the platform, placing your hands on your hips.

"I wasn't lying, but your doors were locked and Lyla told me that there was something going on here." Miguel mumbled something else under his breath that you couldn't catch, he simply goes back to what to whatever he's doing. Which you really couldn't allow, but you couldn't push yourself into this. With him, there was always some sort of process.

You took the moment to observe your surroundings, it was unbearably messy in here. A feat that he'd somehow been able to achieve despite being way past the age of papers, there was clutter everywhere. From beakers, liquids of mysterious origin pooled around from here to there, and even... Blood?!

Your attention had snapped back to Miguel and that's when you had started to notice, how his shoulders rose and fell faster than usual, his hands ruffled in his hair, the rapid successions of his breath.

"Miguel," Shock the process. Shock waiting. He clearly wasn't okay, you knew that to the fullest now. In three short strides, you were already by his side. "What's going on?"

He shook his head. Okay, you didn't want to press him too hard into talking, but this wasn't something that you could leave alone. Hesitantly, you placed a hand on one of his shoulders. He flinched, so did you, but right now, you needed to be the strongest person in the room so you kept your hand there.

You tilted your head to the side, just so you could see his face, but he avoided your gaze. What entered your sights however was a discarded needle gun, yet to be picked up, and a few claw marks on the table.

So this was the Rapture that Lyla was talking about. You hadn't a single clue what it was when she mentioned it, you pretended because you thought that she'd lock you out if you hadn't. Even then, there isn't much you could deduce aside from the fact that it was a drug Miguel had to take. You heard very little about the Rapture studies back in Alchemax, it was very classified, and you wish you would have pried more.

"Do you need help with that?" You asked, trying to keep your voice as level as possible. Your thumb drew small circles into the muscle of his shoulder, his hands fell from his hair to his sides. He slumped back against his chair with a big sigh, and he nodded.

Shakily, you picked up the gun. There was no seat for you to take, so you decided on sitting on the table. When you leaned down, the nanofabric of Miguel's suit had dissipated, revealing the fullness of his arm to you. You attempted to steady your hands over the exposed skin, Miguel doesn't even wince as the little needles pierce through.

It will probably take a little while for the vial to empty out. You stewed in the silence with Miguel for a while, you'd usually use this as an opportunity to make conversation, but judging from his current state, he probably isn't one for talking.

You released the breath that you were holding in when it was finished, you set the device for the side. Your hand remained on Miguel's shoulder the whole time and it tightened as you asked, "Is there–"

"No. No, I'm sorry. I'm just-" Miguel took a deep breath. "I'm- not ready to talk about it right now. It's a lot, sorry for bothering you."

He still wouldn't look you in the eye, you looked down to his hands and saw him tugging and pinching at the fabric of his suit. He'd calmed down a little now at least, but still. You couldn't help but feel like you've failed somehow, you tried to put on what's supposed to resemble a smile to him. "Okay, that's fine."

When he dismissed you and let you (told you) to leave him alone, you promised yourself that you'd wait. You'd wait for him to be ready.

But maybe he never will.

#spiderman: across the spiderverse #spiderverse #across the spiderverse #atsv #miguel o'hara #miguel o’hara #spiderman 2099 #spiderman #miguel o'hara x reader #miguel o’hara x reader #miguel o'hara x you #miguel o'hara x y/n #spiderman 2099 x reader #spiderman 2099 x you #spiderman 2099 x y/n #hurt/comfort #tw drug use #tw panic attack

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atinylittlepain · 1 year

Note

Love your writing! I love the Unexpected universe, could I please request a really angsty Joel story where baby Miller gets sick nothing extreme, just a colicky baby but because of what happened to Sarah it just brings all of Joel’s fear to the surface? Please add some fluff spice with reader trying to comfort him and cute baby and dad moments?

aw man, i got a bit carried away with this one, i hope you like it <3

Unmet Expectations

dad!joel miller x f!reader

joel miller masterlist

When baby miller gets sick, Joel gets stuck in the past, leaving her feeling lonelier than ever before.

warnings | 18+ angst, hurt/comfort, grief, sick baby oof, smut at the end

a/n | this one is long, and rather emotionally charged, but with a happy ending of course for our Unexpected Expectings fam :)

....................................

There isn’t much sleeping going on in the Miller household. Except for Ellie, who has the good fortune to be out in the garage, away from the seemingly endless crying. It started a little over a month ago. She had settled Libby down for her afternoon nap, only to be promptly startled by her girl’s shrieking wail, a sound she would become all too familiar with as time progressed and it became clear that they have one very colicky baby on their hands.

At first, she thought it was just her girl having a bad case of gas, but after a few hours of useless burping and rocking, she started to understand this was something else entirely. Joel came home that night from the stables to find her sitting on the floor of the nursery, tears in her eyes and Libby still screaming in her arms. She wasn’t sure what was worse in that moment, the sound of her girl’s continuous cries, or the look of sheer terror on Joel’s face as he knelt down next to her. He had run across town right then and there to get Suze, who could only advise them to keep their girl comfortable and fed with the reassurance that this sort of thing typically only lasts a month or two.

It’s been the longest month of her life. Libby is nothing if not consistent, quiet and sweet as a lamb in the mornings, but around one o’clock every day, the crying starts, and it doesn’t stop until late into the night. Ellie has been a saint, and Maria too. Staying with her in the afternoons, keeping her sane as she tries to calm Libby down. Joel, however, is a different story. Since all this started, he’s become silent, unreadable. Much like how he was when they first met.

He takes Libby at night, giving her something of a break when he wordlessly takes her off her hands. She finds him most mornings asleep on the floor of the nursery, pressed right up against the crib, one of his arms usually hung between the wooden slats, keeping contact with their girl who always manages to wear herself off into sleep. It’s the only indication she gets from him of just how much he cares because otherwise, he’s become completely shut off, and it’s starting to freak her out more than Libby’s incessant crying.

They don’t talk anymore. He leaves early for shifts, and when he comes home, usually after dusk, he takes Libby and holes away in the nursery. She had tried to join him a number of times, but the steely look he always gave her kept her hovering at a distance, usually dozing in and out of sleep sitting in the hallway right outside the room. She can hear him in the night, the low thrum of his singing just barely detectable below Libby’s cries, and it breaks her heart that he won’t let anyone else see that part of him, especially not her. She’s grateful for how he takes over with Libby, but it feels like it’s no longer them, no longer a team. She’s surrounded by people who care, but it seems like the one person who matters most is slipping away, and she’s never felt more lonely in her life.

“I’m uh, picking up patrol today with Tommy. Might not be home till later.” Her hands still where she had been scrubbing one of Libby’s bottles in the sink. It’s the most he’s said to her in weeks. She turns around to look at him, his gaze wandering anywhere but to hers.

“I thought you weren’t doing patrol shifts anymore.”

“They’re down a man today. Just a one time thing.” There’s a lot more she’d like to say, but she can’t get any of it out, not when it feels like she’s talking to a complete stranger. So instead, she just nods, turning back to the sink before the tightness in her throat can spill over into tears. She hears him let out a long sigh behind her.

“I’ll um, see you tonight then.” She sniffs, only answering him with a jerky nod. The sound of his boots thudding away, the open and close of the front door, is a relief that she feels guilty for.

…

“Are you sure you don’t want me to stick around? It’s no sweat, really. Dina will understand.” She offers Ellie what she can of a smile, easier said than done with her other girl screeching directly in her ear as she rocks her back and forth.

“That’s alright, Ellie bean. You’ve been a huge help already this afternoon, but Joel should be back soon. You should go, have fun.” By the furrowed look on her face, Ellie doesn’t seem to buy that, but she nods.

“Um, ok. Well, you know where to find me– i-if you need me or anything.” She nods and Ellie turns to leave, but seems to think twice of it before turning back to her.

“Are you guys– are you guys ok? You and Joel?” Her heart drops at the question, but luckily Libby chooses that exact moment to raise her screaming to a new decibel, effectively distracting the both of them enough for Ellie to offer her one more anxious smile before heading out.

She sighs with the close of the front door, continuing to try to soothe Libby as she walks upstairs to the nursery.

“I know, Libs. Tell me about it, huh?” She sits down in the rocking chair, shifting her squirming girl to cradle her in her lap. When she glances at the clock, she realizes it’s at least an hour past when Joel should have been home. She feels terrible that she doesn’t feel much at the realization, too sleep deprived, too frustrated, too utterly hopeless to muster up much more than faint concern as Libby continues to wail.

She sits like that for a few hours, through Libby’s ceaseless cries, the relentless noise lulling her into a sort of daze. And then, a miracle. For the first time in a month and a half, Libby stops crying before midnight. Her girl lets out a few sleepy coos before dozing off in her arms, and she has to stop herself from laughing in pure relief as she lays her down in her crib. Stepping out into the hall, she slumps back against the wall, but her peace is short-lived when she realizes that Joel still isn’t home and it’s now much later.

It’s the final straw that finally sends her reeling as she crumples over, her hands on her thighs as she starts to heave in a silent sob. It feels like she can’t get any air in, taking quick gasping breaths that she tries to stifle, not wanting to make any sound and wake her girl up. Her mind is blaring a shrill alarm of two words, over and over again. He’s gone. Under any other circumstances, she might be able to rationalize, to not jump to the worst conclusion. But she’s running on fumes, and her mind can’t shake the thought that she may have lost him tonight. And then she starts to think about that morning, how she hadn’t even said goodbye, and it sends her down to her knees, collapsing over herself in a silent wail.

She’s completely caught off guard when a warm palm comes to her back, jerking away from the touch and pressing back against the wall.

“Hey, hey. It’s me– it’s just me.” He kneels down in front of her, palms cupping her cheeks as he tries to coax her to look at him, but she’s still inconsolable, a sobbing mess. His face falls when she won’t calm down.

“What’s wrong? Is it– please don’t tell me it’s Libby.” The frantic edge to his voice cuts through the fog enough for her to shake her head.

“No– she– she’s fine– she’s sleeping. I thought– I thought you were gone– I thought I lost y-y-you.” She’s a shuddering mess of words, breaking down in another silent sob before she can say anymore. Joel’s hands slide down to squeeze hers, dipping his head down to catch her watery gaze.

“I’m not gone– we just had some trouble with one of the horses, alright? Just got back a little late. I’m right here.” She’s with it enough to let out a bitter laugh at his choice of words, her sobs finally dying down into breathy shudders.

“No you’re not.” His face crumples in confusion as he sits back on his haunches.

“What?” She sighs, scrubbing her eyes with the heel of her hand.

“You might be here physically. But I have no fucking clue where you’ve been in your head ever since– ever since Libby got sick.” As she says it, she finally starts to connect the dots. Joel has been acting the same way he acted when she told him she was pregnant, when he tried to get Tommy to take Ellie to Salt Lake City, when she got shot back in Boston. Joel’s been acting the way he acts when he’s scared.

Part of her wants to comfort him, to tell him that she knows, that she gets it. But the other part of her is too far gone in the flood of frustration for that, and instead she lets that righteous anger wash over her.

“I told you that I couldn’t do this without you, that we would do this together. We’re not in this together anymore, Joel. You don’t talk to me anymore, and lord knows you haven’t touched me in at least a month. Am I that repulsive to you? The fucking mother of your child?” His eyes are wide, jaw slack at her words.

“That ain’t what this is about.” She scoffs.

“No, I know what this is about. But, jesus christ, Joel, you aren’t the only one who’s scared right now. We’re supposed to be there for each other, that’s what partners do. They do it scared, together. But you won’t let me in, and you clearly want nothing to do with me.”

“That’s not– I don’t– it’s–” He stops his own stumbling, letting out a ragged sigh. She just shakes her head.

Before either of them can say anything else, a cry resounds from the nursery. But it’s not like the shrieks they’ve grown accustomed to. This cry is quieter, more needy than distressed. She gets up with a sigh, not looking at Joel as she walks back toward the nursery. Joel is right on her heels.

“Let me, I’ve got her.” She whips around on her heel at his words, holding her palm up between them as she tries to steel her expression.

“Don’t.”

He doesn’t.

…

She wakes up the next morning in a crunched tangle on the twin bed in Libby’s room, her girl still sleeping like an angel in her crib. After a diaper change last night, Libby had again stopped crying, another hopeful sign that the colic is finally lifting. She doesn’t have much room to celebrate it with the way the fight she and Joel had last night is occupying her mind. Though she supposes it wasn’t really a fight, more just her falling apart on him. A cool guilt creeps up her spine. She shouldn’t have lashed out at him like that, but she knows she couldn’t hold it in any longer either.

Libby still asleep, she slips into their bedroom, an awful relief that Joel is nowhere to be seen. She’s not ready to face him yet.

She gets cleaned up, just barely dressed when she starts hearing fussy coos coming from across the hall. Morning light slides syrupy and gold across the nursery floor as she picks Libby up from her crib. This happens like clockwork, and it’s her favorite part of every morning, sitting down in the rocking chair, Libby’s tiny palm pressing against her sternum as she latches on for her breakfast. Even right now, with her mind swirling in worry, watching the contented flutter of her girl’s eyes as she suckles is enough to soothe her.

He clears his throat, and she glances up just briefly to see him standing in the doorway.

“I think we might finally be done with the colic.” As she speaks, she keeps her eyes focused on Libby, her ears pricking to the shuffle of his bare feet as he comes closer into the room. He stays silent, but she can feel his eyes watching her as Libby turns her head away. She gets up with a sigh, still not looking at him as she bounces lightly side to side, rubbing her girl’s back after readjusting her shirt.

“I can burp her if you want. Save you a shirt.” She finally looks at him as he speaks, worry clear in the crease between his brows. Part of her wants to be petty, to tell him that she’s got it and shut him out. But she also knows that this is him trying, so she gives him a small nod, gently passing Libby off to him. He’s been good with her from the start, and now is no different as he holds her to his chest, shushing her fussy whimpers as he lightly pats her back. She can’t help but smile at the sight, leaning up against the crib as she finally holds his gaze.

“Made coffee, if you want some. Pot’s probably still warm.” That’s a peace offering if she ever heard one. She hums, nodding noncommittally in response. It’s clear that Joel has something else to say.

“Could we– could we talk?” He sounds so unsure of the question, his brow all twisted up. She’s already thawing, offering him a smile and a nod.

“That one will conk right out when you’re done burping her. Let’s talk after you get her down, alright?” He sets his mouth in a thin line, his eyes still soft as he nods. She passes by him with a sigh, her palm resting for a moment on his bicep as she presses a kiss to Libby’s crown before slipping out of the room. She really needs that cup of coffee.

Spring is finally thawing out the winter freeze, and it’s just sunny enough to sit on the back porch with a warm mug and a sweater. It isn’t long before he joins her. She notes the way he keeps a sizable distance between them on the bench seat.

“Sarah was colicky too, y’know.” She hadn’t been expecting that, turning to look at him. He’s leaning forward, his elbows resting on his thighs as he cranes his neck back to meet her gaze.

“Was she?” He nods, letting out a breathy laugh.

“Scared the living shit out of me. Her mom– well, she wasn’t much help. Pfft, pretty sure I cussed out the doctor when he told me I just had to wait for it to pass– wait for Sarah to get better.” He studies his hands, fingers flexing as he continues.

“She cried and cried– just like Libby. I stayed up with her every night and just about lost my mind. Knowing she– my baby, my girl– was in so much pain and there was nothing I could do. It was torture.” She brings a tentative palm to his shoulder, feeling him slacken under her touch as he finally looks at her again.

“I’m sorry, darlin. I got stuck in the past and left you here to deal with the present.” She sets her mug down before scooting closer to him to sling her arm over his shoulders, feeling relief when he lets her tangle her other hand with his.

“I accept your apology. I just wish you would’ve talked to me. I know you don’t think I can understand– and I probably can’t, at least not entirely. But I can’t even try to if you don’t let me in.” She rests her chin on his shoulder, feeling the rise and fall of his sigh.

“I know you’re right– I do. It’s just so fucking hard. I just– I’ve gotten real good at running away from it– just shutting it down. Talking like this feels damn near impossible.” She leans back, coaxing him to look at her.

“We knew this wasn’t gonna be easy. And we said we’d get through this together. Joel, you can’t shut down like that– you just can’t. I– we need you too much.” He swallows hard, nodding at her words, and she can’t help but brush his wavy hair out of his face, resting her palm on his cheek afterward.

“You talk to me, huh? And I’m gonna try so hard to understand. I promise.” She stamps her words with a kiss, pressing her forehead against his as they both let out a sigh.

“Gonna do better by you, darlin. Not gonna disappear on you again.”

…

“It’s magic, right? It’s gotta be magic.” Joel quietly laughs at her whispers, both of them looking down at their girl who is fast asleep in the settling night time by some sort of miracle. Libby had done so much better the rest of the day. No more relentless shrieking or fussy squirming. It was like a switch had been flipped, and she and Joel are just hoping it stays that way.

He places his palm between her shoulder blades, head tilting toward the doorway. She gets the hint, both of them quietly padding out of the nursery and across the hall to their own bedroom.

“Are we actually gonna get to sleep in our own bed tonight?” He smiles at that, lifting his hand to brush his fingers along her cheek. He’s being careful, she can tell. All day he’s been quiet, but close, taking the day off of shifts to stick by her side. She knows that this is his way of apologizing, his way of trying, and she’s grateful for it.

Whether or not they’re showering together has become a sort of litmus test to determine how their relationship is doing. They haven’t done this in a month, and she only realizes how much she missed it, missed him, when she finally gets her hands on him again, running her soaped-up palms along the broad expanse of his back as he faces away from her under the warm stream of water. She smiles at the groan he lets out when she presses her fingers into that spot between his shoulder blades that’s always knotted up, working the kink out before slipping her palms further down. A breathy chuckle thrums in his chest when she slides her palms down the strong curve of his ass, stepping in closer to wrap her arms around him and trail her hands up the soft muscle of his stomach.

“What’re you doing back there, mama?” She can hear the smile in his voice, and revels in the shudder that runs through him when she presses a kiss to the nape of his neck.

“Taking care of you. You gonna let me?” She feels the huff he lets out in the rise and fall of his shoulders, quick to turn in her hold and steal one, two, three kisses before she can press on his chest to get him to let up. His hands fall to her waist, squeezing at the swell and pulling her into him, chest to chest. His cock rests hot and solid against her thigh.

“We take care of each other, huh?” His words bloom warm in her chest and the smile she offers him is the biggest relief. He reaches behind her to grab the bar of soap, lathering up his hands. It’s a strange contrast, the roughness of his palms and the tenderness of the press of his skin against hers as he trails over every inch of her body he can reach. She gets both, and she knows it’s a gift.

His touch begins to linger and stutter, squeezes left to his favorite parts of her, his grin growing smugger with each shudder he coaxes out of her.

“We’re wasting water. Maria’s gonna kill us.” He groans low at that, laying a harsh squeeze to her ass that she yelps at.

“That is the last thing I wanna think about right now.” She breathes out a laugh as he corners her against the tiled wall. She barely manages to flip off the water as he presses against her, licking hotly into her mouth. With a light tug to his damp waves, he pulls away, both of them panting in the humid bathroom air.

“Can we at least get dried off? The last thing I want is one of us slipping and cracking our skull open.” Joel grumbles at that, shaking his head as he steps in closer. However, with the step he takes, his back heel slips out causing him to stumble into her as they both struggle to stay upright. They’re a tangle of limbs as they find their footing, her arms wrapped over his shoulders and his around her waist. Looking at each other, all they can do is laugh.

“Would it kill you to tell me I’m right every now and again?” She teases him, a crooked grin as she stays wrapped up in his arms.

“You’re right– you’re right– you’re right. There, will that do, darlin?” He punctuates each repetition with a chaste kiss to her lips, leaving her laughing as he jostles her in his hold. She hums lightly.

“Hmm, I suppose. For now.” He huffs at that, retaliating with a hard smack to the curve of her ass that has her jolting in his grip, causing them both to stumble about in the shower again. They’re fools for each other, only for each other.

Drying off is made all but impossible by the way they stay glued to each other, and their skin is still damp when they finally make it to their bed, toppling into the sheets still tangled up in kisses and sighs and wandering hands. Joel coaxes her onto her back, settling between her legs as he trails a hand down to her cunt, dragging a brazen swipe through her heat that has her arching up into her touch.

“Joel, please– no teasing tonight. I just– I need you, baby.” He shushes her with a kiss, fingers languidly circling her clit.

“You’ve got me, darlin– not going anywhere, huh? Gonna give you what you need.” She has to bite back a whine at the loss of his touch, but it’s only a fleeting desperation as he presses the throbbing tip of his cock up against her entrance. Though it’s been a while, they move well together like they always do, bodies in complete communion as she draws her leg up along his waist, opening up to him as he presses his hips forward. He stills with his hips hilted into hers, his forehead pressing into her sternum with a ragged sigh.

“Fucking hell– missed you so bad, mama– s’not fair how good you feel– not gonna last like this–” His voice is hoarse, broken by sweet agony, and she tries to soothe him with a smattering of kisses to his hairline, drawing him to look up at her.

“It’s ok, baby. Just wanna feel you– feel so perfect, Joel. Can you move for me?” She presses a kiss to the crease between his brows and he chases after her lips, groaning into a deep kiss as he rolls his hips back only to snap them forward again. He swallows the gasp she lets out at the deep grind of him, her nails digging into his shoulders as he guides them into that familiar push and pull.

In just the few months of having their girl, they’ve learned how to keep quiet, all breathy sighs and muffled kisses, but she’s having a hard time holding back her high-pitched whimpers at the way he’s thrusting into her, punctuating each snap of his hips with a hard grind that strokes a spot inside her that’s already tilting her over the edge of pleasure. But it starts to become too much when Joel brings his fingers back to her clit, drawing stuttering swipes that have her spasming around him.

“C’mon, mama– let go for me– want it so bad– that’s it, darlin–” his praises become muffled noise as she comes, her heels now digging into his ass where her legs are wrapped around him, clutching him as he fucks her through the rolling high. Joel is quick to follow, pulling out of her with a harsh groan and sloppily stroking himself a few times before his warmth is smearing across the plush of her thigh. It's a far cry from the heated trysts they used to engage in, hours on end of tangled passion long traded in for these little bursts of love that she cherishes just as much, if not more.

He collapses next to her, slumping on his back, his arm crossed over himself to keep his palm splayed over her stomach. She rests her hand on top of his, tangling their fingers together as they both catch their breath. But, there isn’t much time to revel in the moment when soft cries start to carry from across the hall. She can’t help but smile as she looks at him, and he lets out a sigh.

“Go get cleaned up, mama. I’ve got her.” He punctuates his words with a kiss, leaning over and brushing his fingers along her cheek. They share a quietly murmured “love you,” and she idly watches him get up, the soft pull of his muscles as he slips on a t-shirt and a pair of boxers before padding across the hall to Libby’s room.

They don’t get to sleep in their own bed that night. After getting cleaned up, she trails into the nursery, finding Joel quietly singing to their girl in the rocking chair. He glances up at her, but keeps singing, his voice low and sweet, lulling Libby back to sleep in his arms. With their girl tucked back in her crib, they wind up in a close tangle on the twin bed.

It's the best sleep they've gotten in a month.

#unexpected expectings #joel miller fanfiction #joel miller angst #joel miller x you #joel miller #joel miller x reader #joel miller fluff #joel miller smut #joel miller au #joel miller one shot #tlou fanfiction #the last of us #tlou

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hoshinoyozora · 1 year

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Poor, Unfortunate Soul(s)

🖤 Pairing: Yandere! Self-aware! Twisted Wonderland x Female! Reader

💛 Word Count: 1,3k+

❤ Warnings: -

[Edited]

Do not re-upload my writing to another website or use it without my permission. Also, don’t ask for a sequel unless I like the story enough to write one. Please reblog so other people can see my stories!

***

Just a lil scenario about MC who ‘dismisses’ their existences aka me lmao.

“They’re just a bunch of game characters, anyway. Why should I care so much about them?”

You laughed, unaware of the hearts that you broke within the screen. The thin yet sturdy piece of glass that separated you from the people who thought of you as their world. Their everything. Your friend chuckled, adding salt to the injury. Had she didn’t ask you why you hadn’t logged into the game for days, weeks even, maybe they wouldn’t be so humiliated and disappointed.

But did that mean they wouldn’t know your true opinion on them otherwise?

Maybe ignorance was bliss, because, then, they would’ve kept holding onto the hope for you to come back. To still want them the same way they wanted you. In this world of codes and numbers, you were the one real thing in their lives. You were human. Warm, fleshy, and expressive. And yet, you dismissed their existences so easily just because you both lived in two different worlds.

Did they really mean nothing for you? Were all of your reactions towards them merely a façade? Or a memory so insignificant you forgot about it in the next day?

“Maybe I should just delete the app. It feels like a chore to open it nowadays.”

The sky darkened, the ground trembled, and the thunder rumbled as the result of a certain dragon fae. Was this your true self? Then again, NRC was a school of villains. They shouldn’t be surprised if you, the Player, turned out to be the biggest villain of all. Not even Malleus Draconia could hold a candle to you. Your words alone had the ability to mold and break their spirits. Your touch alone could move them somewhere else and show them how beautiful Twisted Wonderland was with you by their side. And your presence alone gave them a reason to live.

If you were to disappear, wouldn’t that be comparable to death? A slow, painful death where everyone lost themselves in depression and rage, and ultimately, destroyed themselves. In a moment of morbid curiosity, they wondered if that was what you wanted all along. You toyed with their hearts, and when you got bored, you moved onto their lives.

“We… we can’t just let her leave!” A boyish voice, thick with desperation and an even desperate attempt to recompose, shattered the mournful silence. Everyone recognized him as Ace Trappola, one of Yuu’s enviable first friends and troublemakers from Heartslabyul. “We need to stop her! Come on, guys. Are we really going to stop now, after everything we’ve done to reach her?”

“But how?” Leona asked, sounding even more listless somehow. Despite his pride and consent, you’d taken a peek into his past and remained amicable with him. It didn’t matter that it was for the sake of the plot, your vessel, Yuu, still approached him and asked for his help during Octavinelle’s story. Didn’t that mean something for you? For him? “Just because we’ve managed to hack into her phone doesn’t mean we can drag her here. There’s only so much we can do to make her stay.”

Ace flinched, unprepared for the reality to slap him twice.

“I-I don’t know.” He turned to face the Diasomnia gang who, with the exception of the sniffling Sebek, looked as somber as a funeral guest. “Malleus-senpai, Lilia-senpai, you guys gotta know something about bringing someone from another world, right? You guys are the strongest of the strongest. I don’t care if it’s forbidden. There… there has to be a way!”

For a moment, they were silent as though reluctant to admit their lack of knowledge. Ace wilted, his buckling knees threatening to collapse once the severity of the situation settled in.

That is, until Lilia opened his mouth.

“… There is, actually.” he murmured. “But for every soul that moves here, another has to replace them.”

Some of the characters lit up, but the others remained skeptical.

“And I assume it’s for the sake of balance?” Vil mused, crossing his arms.

Lilia’s glance confirmed his suspicion.

“T-then, what are we waiting for?” In a burst of hope, Azul momentarily stopped sobbing. “Let’s sacrifice that person.”

“But who’s gonna be that person?” Jamil retorted.

Everyone fell quiet again, unwilling to be the lamb in the altar of your capricious existence.

“The NPCs ‘live’ when the story is moving.” Idia mumbled through the floating device. His shyness and reluctance for a face-to-face interaction was customary, but nobody could truly see the underworld his sanity was falling at a rapid pace. Still, it didn’t change the fact that he still wanted to see you living among them. Literally. “That means she has to play again if we want to sacrifice one of them.”

“I, for one, would be more than willing to help ‘convincing’ her, if that’s what it takes.” Jade simpered with his eyes closed and a hand over his chest.

“Oui! It’d be a splendid day to see her sublime face gracing us again. The sun would shine warmly, the flowers would grow tastefully, and the birds would chirp merrily!” Rook enthused, jabbing at Malleus’s inadvertent use of magic.

Riddle wiped his teary eyes with the sleeve of his uniform and straightened up.

“Seeing that our Player has slackened in her responsibility to watch over us, it is our duty to set her right.” he declared. “Heartslabyul students, I order you to find this person and bring him here!”

“I-I agree…!” Sebek piped up, still loud as always despite his trembling voice and runny nose. “I shall seize him and send him to that world at once!”

Ever the dutiful one, Silver gripped his baton and nodded. As long as it wasn’t murder without a cause, he’d gladly perform any task like a true knight would.

“Well, if Riddle ordered us like this, who are we to disobey him?” Cater laughed, trying to hide the shakiness of his voice.

Trey pushed his glasses, foggy from the upcoming tears.

“Indeed. But I won’t lie, this is something that I’m looking forward to carry out.”

“For once, you did something right, Ace!” Deuce beamed proudly.

“Oi!”

Jamil glanced at Kalim, who reluctantly nodded. He hated to see people throwing away their lives carelessly, after all the assassination attempts that he suffered through the story. But if it was for the sake of seeing you with them, who was he to stop them?

Floyd grinned happily, but the anger of being abandoned by you darkened his eyes.

“Once she gets here, I’ll be sure to give her a nice, long squeeze as a welcome~”

“Well, Leona-san?” Ruggie asked, crossing his hands behind his head. “Are we gonna boost their morale or something?”

Leona sighed, lacking the irritated exhaustion he usually had. Even he wasn’t immune to the hope that Lilia brought to them, no matter how annoying it was to trust him.

“You better not be disappointing us, Lilia.” he growled. “And you, too, Radish Sprout.”

“I don’t like this.” Jack murmured. “But if this is what it takes to make the Player fulfill her role again, then I’ll do my best to live up to the expectations!”

“I… I will join as well!” Epel stated, clenching his fists resolutely.

“Look, Brother!” Ortho chirped. “You managed to bring them all together. That’s so cool!”

Idia muttered something, but the younger boy was too engrossed in their touching cooperation to notice.

Sunlight finally dispersed the dark clouds, mirroring their spirit. Malleus took a step forward with his chin raised in determination.

“Then, I shall assist Lilia with the magic.”

You said you didn’t care about them?

Well, they would make you care.

#twisted wonderland x reader #twst x reader #disney twisted wonderland #yandere twisted wonderland #twst imagines #self aware twst #self aware au #yandere twst #female reader #yandere heartslabyul #yandere savanaclaw #yandere octavinelle #yandere scarabia #yandere pomefiore #yandere ignihyde #yandere diasomnia

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tojisbbg · 2 years

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❈ 𝗹𝗲𝘁 𝘆𝗼𝘂 𝗯𝗿𝗲𝗮𝗸 𝗺𝘆 𝗵𝗲𝗮𝗿𝘁 𝗮𝗴𝗮𝗶𝗻 ❈

❝one day i will stop falling in love with you, some day, someone will like me like i like you.❞

♡ manjiro sano ♡

a/n: current mood - wanting to breaking people’s hearts 😈 (sorry mikey stans)

content: mikey x reader (y/n), very heavy angst, right person wrong time, you’re mikey’s childhood friend, he’s getting married (lolz), not grammatically checked/edited

...

you finished adding the final touches to your makeup, a heavy sigh leaving your lips as you checked in the mirror if your concealer hid your puffy eyes well. some would say that whatever you were going through was tragic, a scenario that you would read about in romance novels where the main character is destined to a miserable fate.

and perhaps that was right.

you’ve been feeling miserable, sad and pathetic for the last month and a half since you’ve received the invitation. a piece of paper that felt like a sharp knife slicing your heart in half.

what was worse was that you couldn’t even find it in your heart to throw away the card. it was beautifully decorated with happy pastel colors and confetti, printed on expensive card stock, pop-up designs and a photo of him with the girl that was supposed to be you.

it was your childhood friend’s wedding, except for the catch that you’ve been holding in a burdening crush on him for the last twenty years. he was your person and you were his, being there for each other through thick and thin.

you both created a world where it was just the two of you while everyone else became a blur, a bunch of white noise. he was the invincible mikey and you were his key.

you couldn’t help but wonder, when did things change so fast? how did the perfect world you both created become nothing but dust?

---

(17 years ago)

“how is she, doc?” the young boy with a dragon tatted on his skull asked curiously as he stared at his friend, well practically family, in concern.

“it was just an upset stomach, little man. we gave your sister some antibiotics to fight off those nasty little germs that’s been bothering her. she’ll be good in a few days. you sure you don’t have a parent or older family member we can contact?” the doctor asked, cocking an eyebrow as he held the pen in his hand eagerly, hoping the blonde boy would say something to him.

“we’re orphans and she’s not my real sister. we have someone that’s been taking care of us for all these years and he’ll come by shortly.” he murmured, shame painting his face as his gaze went down to the floor.

the doctor looked at him with sorrow, patting his head.

“hang tight, buddy. keep her company, but don’t make her laugh too much or else it might make her cry.” he tried to create humor and it successfully made the frowning by crack a crooked smile.

“yes, sir!” the little boy playfully saluted as he watched the man in the white coat walk away with a chuckle.

“ken?” his ears rang up when hearing your faint call of his name, a small whimper following after.

“y/n! are you hurting anywhere? should i call the doctor back? uncle’s gonna be here soon with remi. i told them to bring your favorite chocolate pudding.” draken gave you a cheeky grin, his hand now holding yours tightly.

“you know me so well, sometimes i forget that i’m an orphan.” you laughed quietly, trying to not put strain on your stomach.

“you’re not an orphan, y/n. you got me, uncle, remi and the other girls too. we’re one big happy family.” he persisted, eyebrows furrowing as he tried his best to convince you to believe his point.

“you told the doctor that i’m not your sister, ken.” you whispered, your throat becoming dry as the words left your mouth. draken fell silent for a few seconds before sighing, laying his head besides your hand.

“i told him that you’re not my real sister, y/n. there’s a difference. i don’t care what the law says because my heart says otherwise. you’ll always be the sister that i’ve always dreamed of having.” his eyes twinkled, a hand coming up to ruffle your hair.

“so i heard one of my little girls was sick? maybe some chocolate pudding will make those little bad guys in your stomach go away.” your uncle’s voice boomed in your ward, a small smile plastered on his face as he shook the white plastic bag.

your eyes glimmered in content before you were pulled into a bear hug by remi. the girl sobbed on your shoulder, wetting it with tears and snot as she roared by your ears.

“y/nnnn!!!! i thought you were gonna die when kenny told uncle! i love you, y/n, don’t leave ever me. ever.” she hiccuped between every word as your uncle and draken tried to console her and calm her down.

“it was a stomach bug, remi. i’ll be better in a few days.” you tried to cheer her up. she raised her head, looking at you in doubt.

“promise?” remi sniffled.

“promise, you know i’d never lie to you.” you wiped away her tears before hugging her once more.

your uncle handed the three of you the small containers of chocolate pudding.

“why don’t you three take a walk outside, i’ll have this really nice nurse walk you guys. it’s good to get some fresh air.” the doctor said, patting your back and you all agreed, soon leaving the room.

you happily skipped through the hallway, one pudding container in your pocket, while the other one was tightly secured in your hand as you ate it.

“let’s play hide and seek, you’re the seeker ken!” you quickly blurted out, not giving either of them a choice before running off to the other direction. you faintly heard draken groan in annoyance, being tired of always being the seeker but he’d always do it for you.

you saw a pretty quiet hallway and decided to turn to that corner, only to find a small quiet room. you figured that it wouldn’t be too much of a trouble to hide in here for a few minutes

you opened the door, nearly having a heart attack from the sudden appearance of another person. it was a boy with short blonde hair, he was huddled up into a ball, quietly whimpering and crying.

“hey, kid.” you called out to him, only to not receive a response. a heavy sigh left your lips as you walked over to him, sitting on the floor besides him. the boy looked up at you, eyes all puffy and his nose red.

he’s pretty cute.

“look, i’m really bad at comforting people. but, when i’m super sad, i eat chocolate pudding to make me happy again.” you said with a grin, digging in your pocket to get your other container out.

you grabbed his hand and opened his palm before placing the treat in it. he stared at it in momentary silence.

“who are you?” he finally spoke, looking at you with slight confusion.

“just a stranger who’s hiding from her siblings in an intense game of hide and seek. what about you?” you chuckled, scooping another bite into your mouth.

“i’m.. i don’t know.” he said with a shaky breath, shaking his head.

“that’s fine, we don’t always know the answer to everything. ken is really mean sometimes, he’s a year older than me and asked me what 345 times 82 is. i could bet you my whole stash of chocolate pudding that he doesn’t know himself. tch, smart my ass.” you scoffed, earning a small giggle from your side. you side eyed him, seeing him detach the small spoon from the plastic lid before opening it.

“what’s your name?” he asked you, eyes anticipating for an answer.

“y/n. you?” you continued to inhale your treat as you waited for him to respond.

“mikey.” the blonde boy scooped in a hefty amount into his mouth as he consumed the sweet dessert.

“why were you crying, mikey?” you asked, not realizing how insensitive you were being.

“it’s personal.” mikey shortly dismissed, but you were a little slow to understand and continued to persist until he caved in.

“it’s just me and you in here. think of it as a bubble with just us, nothing comes in or goes out of this bubble.” you assured him, patting his back.

for some strange reason, mikey felt like he could tell you anything from how comfortable you made him feel. considering the fact that he didn’t want to show any kind of reaction or emotion towards his family, he decided to seek that comfort and release in you.

“my mother just died, about an hour ago.” he bluntly dropped the bomb, placing a very awkward and tense atmosphere between you both.

“you’ll get over it, mikey.” you calmly answered, making his brows furrow with annoyance and slight anger.

“how could you say that to me? my mother just died.” mikey said in disbelief, his tone heightening a little.

“i’m telling you the truth. i’m sorry that this happened to you, especially at such a young age, but it’ll all pass and soon, today will just be one of your many bad memories. you’ll find peace and love one day and heal, mikey. that’s life.” you defended your previous statement, looking into his eyes with a gentle look.

“and how do you know that? you’re just some ten-year-old weirdo that walked in on me.” he mumbled under his breath, making you giggle.

“i’m an orphan, mikey. i don’t even know what my parents look like or if i even have any to begin with. not even any knowledge on if i have sibling or not. ken and remi aren’t my real siblings, just people i grew up with.” you shrugged, making the blonde boy thin his lips.

“i’m sorry.” he apologized, his gaze lowering to meet his shoes.

“it’s not your fault. there’s too much love in this world to be consumed by regret or grief. i’m not saying that you shouldn’t grieve, but you have to pick yourself up and continue with the rest of your life eventually. it’s what your mom would’ve wanted, mikey.” you ruffled his hair as his eyes shimmered with hope.

“thanks, i’ll try. also, promise me that you won’t tell anyone about me crying.” mikey gave you a embarrassed look, holding up his pinky.

“i promise.” you intertwined yours with his.

suddenly, the door flew open, which startled the both of you.

“found you!”

---

“i’m really sorry, sir.” the doctor heavily sighed, trying to pat your uncle’s back as the man sobbed in his palms.

“how bad is it? please, tell me she has time! she’s only ten, i want to be able to walk her down the aisle one day.” your uncle begged, choking between every word and cry.

“the tumor in right in the middle of her brain, wrapping around each and every blood vessel. it’s to aggressive for us to remove it, i’m sorry once again, but it’s inoperable. she’ll bleed out before we can even remove a centimeter of it. with proper treatment and medications, we’re looking at maybe ten more years.” the doctor replied, making your uncle rub his temples in worry.

“uncle!! meet my new friend, mikey! they live on the next block from our house.” you vibrant voice broke the depressing atmosphere. your uncle quickly wiped away his tears, giving you all a smile.

“hey, i remember you! you were in s.s motors with shinichiro.” your uncle patted mikey’s head.

“he’s my big brother.” mikey answered.

“i see, why don’t you come and have lunch with us. we’re going out for burgers, i’ll text your brother that you’re with us.” your uncle suggested, making the small blonde boy nod his head.

and just like that, the both of you became inseparable.

---

high school came around and you were the only thing that was piecing manjiro sano, or rather the invincible mikey, together. he formed a gang and that included your brother in it as well. you all were a pretty tight group to say the least, yet no one could truly understand him better than you could.

not even his right-hand men such as draken or sanzu.

“i think i’m gonna disband toman and move away for some time, you now escape life for a little.” he sighed, opening the lid of the chocolate pudding before handing it to you.

“where’s yours?” you asked, confused as to why he only got one.

“didn’t want one.” he shrugged, digging in his pocket before pulling out a box of cigarettes. he plucked one of the cancer sticks out, planting it in between his lips before lighting it.

you watched him in disappointment, as he inhaled the smoke before coughing it out, eyes becoming watery as you scoffed.

“dumbass, give me that.” you grabbed the stick before throwing it on the ground, stepping on it.

“and that.” you grabbed the pack out of his hands before tossing it into the trash.

“y/n.” mikey called out.

“no, i’m really mad at you. i can’t believe you, mikey. pull that type of shit again and i’ll bury you, i swear. no girl would ever want to kiss you with a mouth like that.” you scoffed, flicking his forehead as he winced in pain.

“not even you?” he teased.

“i’d rather kiss a roach.” you playfully punched his bicep, earning a small laugh from him.

“they only had one pudding left, so i didn’t get one for myself.” he explained himself.

“we could always share, idiot. say ah.” you ordered, scooping a hefty amount of pudding before placing the spoon near his lips. he opened his mouth, eating it with content.

“see, much better than cigarettes. but i was being serious, mikey, i don’t wanna see those near your lips or reach ever again. swear on my life?” you glared at him, making him choke.

“hey! why are you giving me such a harsh swear??” he cleared his throat.

“so you’re saying you’ll lie and do it behind my back?!” you yelled, making him quickly shake his head.

“no, no, no! that’s not what i meant. i’m just saying that isn’t it such a big swear for something so stupid?” mikey tried to reason.

“your health is not stupid, mikey. don’t push my buttons and swear already.” you rolled your eyes, making him sigh.

“fine, i swear.” he said in defeat, stealing the reamining of your pudding to eat.

“hm, good. oh, going back to what you were saying earlier, why so suddenly?” you questioned, backtracking to the previous conversation before you both got out of topic.

“i don’t know, i feel like i’m bringing in my toxic energy in and engulfing everyone. maybe i should just let it all go and step back, you know? even you need a break from me to be honest.” he bitterly laughed. you kissed your teeth before grabbing a hold of his face, turning it to face you as you stared sternly at him.

“mikey, i’m not going anywhere. what i promised you seven years will never break, even after we die. our souls are one, and i can’t leave my other half. so, let me run away with you. wherever you want, i’ll follow right behind you.” you gave him a soft smile, caressing his cheeks lovingly. his expression grew softer, tears welling in his eyes as he buried his face in your chest. you wrapped your arms around him, kissing the top of his head.

it’s been rough on him, especially after losing shinichiro too in an accident. mikey’s been in a really dark place for a few months, shit, even scary if you were honest. he was snappy, rude, all dark and twisty. yet, you never gave up on him.

because you knew that at the end of the day, he was still the same small boy you found in that closet crying to himself.

“y/n, promise me something.” mikey sniffled, pulling away as he looked up at you, eyes holding so much vulnerability.

“i promised my entire life to you, what more should i promise?”you joked, wiping away his tears with the pads of your thumb.

“if we don’t find someone by the age of thirty, let’s get married. i’d rather spend the rest of my life with you than all alone.” he offered, a boyish smile dancing on his lips as your heart fluttered.

you could’ve sworn that it skipped a few beats, making it suddenly harder to breathe as your cheeks grew warm.

“stop fucking around with me, sano. it’s not funny.” you warned him, but his expression remained the same.

“you’re being deadass?” your eyes grew wide and he hummed in response.

“so, are you in or not?” the blonde boy cocked an eyebrow as he held out his pinkie, making you chuckle.

“jeez, it seems like you’re making a life or death contract with me. yes, i’m in.” you answered, intertwining your pinkie with his.

and to think that what you’ve been dreaming of for years were to come true would become only a nightmare.

it’s not until emma’s death where mikey completely disappeared, not answering anyones calls or even yours. you spent days trying to look for him all over the city and even begging koko to somehow track his number or something.

but every effort went in vain.

you cried for months, refusing to eat and giving up on the sweet treat that only reminded you of him. you had nightmares every night, and the only thought that circled your mind was that he was dead.

he was really gone.

until after nearly nine years, he came back. not alone, but accompanied with another person.

a girl, his girl, to be precise.

mikey went to the philippines for those years, returning with a completely new get up that would make it hard for anyone to guess that it was him. his beautiful blonde locks were now cut short with an undercut, dyed black.

you remembered the first day where he showed up at your doorsteps, your knees turned into jelly as you almost collapsed to the group if he didn’t catch you in time. you cried in his arms for so long, cursing and punching him from pain and anger as he whispered thousands of apologies to you.

you were happy, so fucking happy to see that he was alive. it put your mind and heart to peace, until you saw her walk out of the car.

“this is my girlfriend, y/n. we met a few years back and she’s just amazing, you know. i wanted you to meet the most important person of my life first since you’re my best friend.” he mischievously giggled, snaking an arm around her waist.

your throat became dry, heart shattering into a billion pieces as each word leaving his lips was like knives jabbing at your heart. it bled, threatening to leak out of your eyes. yet, you held back, trying your hardest to fake a realistic smile to keep your cool.

“nice to meet you.” you shook her hand.

“the pleasure’s all mine, mikey’s told me a lot about you.” she said, making you awkwardly laugh.

“oh, i see.” you dryly replied, clearing your throat.

“these are for you by the way, it’s a recipe that’s really sacred to my family. i hope you enjoy.” she smiled, handing you a box of what seemed like cookies.

fuck, i can’t even bring myself to hate her.

“thank you, that’s really sweet of you. uh, you both should stay over for lunch.” you offered, secretly praying that they refuse.

“sorry, y/n, i gotta get my bike inspected by ken-chin. next time, yeah?” he ruffled your hair, as you managed to let out a small hum. you waved them goodbye before entering your house, locking the door behind you.

you fell on your knees, letting out all the tears that you’ve been holding in. your cry was ugly, gut-wrenching and painful as it stole all the oxygen from your lungs and made you gag and choke.

it felt like someone died, well, it was sort of like that.

mikey was no longer yours, he was somebody’s else’s. you were all alone now.

you’re the other woman.

you probably shed a gallon of tears by now, trying your best to turn off the water tap glued on your eyes. but, the image of him snaking his arm around her waist never left your mind.

you glanced at the box of cookies on the floor, opening the lid to grab one and take a bite.

“fuck, they taste delicious too.” you cried, throwing it back in the box as you decided that it’ll be best to call out of work sick for tomorrow.

---

the day has finally come, where you have to let him go. he was no longer yours, those days will never come back, now only a happy memory that you can confide to for comfort.

“y/n, you don’t have to do this.” draken sighed, placing a hand on your shoulder but you shook your head, determined to attend that damn wedding.

“i have to, ken. he’s my best friend, i can do at least this much for him.” you answered, fixing up the green dress that you wore before putting on your earrings.

“be selfish for once, y/n! i know that you love him, alright? i’ve been living with you since diapers, i know you like the back of my hand. you can lie to anyone but me, i know that you’re not okay. which is why i’m telling you that you don’t have to do this. i’ll tell him that you’re sick or something.” draken’s eyes softened, his expresison growing sad as he looked at your pained expression. you were smiling at him, yet he knew the thousands of thoughts and words that littered your mind.

“ken, i know. the only way i could give myself closure is by seeing it happen, in front of my eyes. i want my last memory of him to be happy and clear, so that when i think of him, i don’t feel pain or misery. if he’s happy then i’m happy because we are each others halves and no one can take that spot. besides, his fiance is so nice, i can’t even bring myself to hate her. he’ll be fine, i know he will.” you explained, grabbing drakens hands as you gave it a tight squeeze, looking up at the tall man that stood before you.

he bit his lips to contain himself from arguing back, caressing your cheeks before letting out a sigh. he nodded his head, deciding to butt-out of your business.

“okay, whatever makes you happy.” he said and you hummed in response before getting up to slip on your heels.

“let’s go, we have a wedding to go to.” you smiled at him, slipped your arm in his as you guys walked out of your house.

the drive to the church was short as it was the same one where hina and takemichi got married. you entered the ladies room where all the bridesmaids were getting dressed up as they all waited for you since you were the maid of honor.

“y/n, you’re here! god, you look gorgeous, maybe i should ditch mikey and marry you instead.” she joked, pulling you into a hug as you chuckled, patting her back.

“you look even prettier. damn, mikey caught a good one i gotta say.” you answered looking at her with eyes full of nothing but adoration.

she was sweet and understanding, a perfect wife for mikey. he deserved this, after being through hell and back, he deserved happiness and peace.

and you were willing to do anything to give him that, even if it meant to go to the ends of the earth and come back.

“it’s almost time! come on ladies, get in position.” one of the bridesmaids announced.

“i’ll see you at the aisle.” you rubbed her shoulder as she hummed, then taking your leave as you entered the wedding hall. you walked up where the priest stood, mikey standing right across you.

his eyes widened when he saw you, walking up to you without hesitation. he pulled you into a tight hug before pulling away with a smile.

“you look absolutely beautiful, y/n, as always. i’m so happy that you’re here, i was honestly so nervous, but after seeing you, i got my courage back.” he honestly said, making it hard for you to form words to respond to him.

“better not chicken out sano, i raised you better than that.” you playfully scolded him.

“yes ma’am!” he jokingly saluted, making you both laugh.

“mr. sano, please stand in position, the bride will enter in a few minutes.” the priest interrupted.

“sorry. i’ll talk to you after the ceremony, okay?” he held your hands, giving it a tight squeeze and you swore that if he was just a hair more closer, you would’ve broken down into tears.

“yeah, yeah, of course. go get married, sano.” you teased, making him blush as he walked back to his original position. you stood with one ring while draken stood with the other, the taller glancing at you frequently to check if you’re okay and you’d discreetly try to nod and give him the signal that you’re fine.

the music began to play and the doors opened, revealing mikey’s soon to be wife, now walking in with her father. a huge smile or her face as you looked over at mikey, only to catch him staring at you before averting his gaze to his wife.

she walked up the steps, now standing besides you as she turned to look at her soon to be husband. the priest began to read the wedding vows and it was soon time to exchange rings. the beautiful diamond ring glimmered under your eyes and you couldn’t help but wished it was for you.

it fit perfectly, like it was made for you and you knew that because you accompanied mikey when he went ring shopping. it was unfortunate to know that his fiance’s ring size was the same as you, so you helped him pick and size it. you remember not being able to take your eyes off of it as soon as he slipped it onto your finger. you felt chills as his skin touched yours, but now, it was reality; only not yours but hers.

“do you, _____, take manjiro sano as your wedded husband, to cherish in love and in friendship, in sickness and in health, in success and in disappointment, to love him faithfully, today, tomorrow, and for as long as the two of you shall live?” the priest asked, and without hesitation⸻

“i do.” she said with the brightest smile, giving him the most lovesick eyes known to mankind.

“do you, manjiro sano, take _____ as your wedded wife, to cherish in love and in friendship, in sickness and in health, in success and in disappointment, to love him faithfully, today, tomorrow, and for as long as the two of you shall live?” he now asked the groom, and to your surpise, mikey’s eyes were only focused on you.

please, say no, mikey. say no! you’re mine and i’m yours, it always been like that. please, say no.

your mind screamed and your heart bled, hoping for some miracle to change the events to bring it in your favors. but to your disappointment, none of that happened. he gave you a small smile before glancing at his bride.

“i do.” mikey said and the priest suddenly glanced at everyone in the room.

“any objections?” he loudly asked, as a moment of silence fell in the whole room.

me! i object. this wedding shouldn’t be happening, not even in a million years. that should be me in that dress and ring, not her. i don’t want to be the other woman.

“that’s a no then. i now pronounce you husband and wife. you may kiss the bride.” and with that being said, you averted your gaze to the bouquet of flowers as the crowd roared with cheers while they both kissed.

a few tears slipped from your eyes but you managed to quickly wipe them away, praying that nobody saw them. to which nobody did, except for draken as the man look at you with nothing but an aching heart to see you this heartbroken.

the after party was great, from the table of stories and lunch too. the cake was amazing as well, coming from the bakery that you and mikey often went to for study dates during your teen years.

“y/n! there you are, i’ve been looking for you everywhere. i just wanted to come here and thank you again for helping out with everything. you’re amazing and i’m so happy to know someone like you.” mikey’s wife came to you and pulled you into a hug, as you pat her back.

“of course, i wish you both the best of luck and a lot of happiness. treat him good, okay? he’s been through so much and he really deserves this. he’s a little childish and stubborn at times but he’s so sweet. he’s great and it breaks my heart to give him away but he’ll be okay. i know he will, he’s mikey after all.” you laughed, making her break into one as well.

“mhm, you got it!” she smiled at you once more before being whisked away by another relative for pictures.

“looks like you’re busy.” you heard a familiar voice behind you, turning around to see mikey grinning at you.

“yup, busy practicing how to spend the rest of my life alone without my other half.” you teased, making him chuckle.

“i suppose if you’re not too busy then you can spare some time to have a dance with me?” mikey wiggled his eyebrows, making your lips curl as you took his hand, being pulled away to the dance floor.

you wrap your arms around his neck as his arms snake around your waist. you both sway to the song and it felt like once again everyone else was just a blur and you both were now back in your own world, just the two of you.

“thank you, y/n. for everything, from beginning to end. i’ll never be able to repay you for everything that you’ve done for me. without you, i don’t think i’d even be standing here. you’re my one and only, forever and always; my other half.” he genuinely spoke, eyes glimmering with love and adoration, turning your brain into a bunch of mush and heart becoming all fuzzy.

“you just got married, mikey, don’t make your wife turn against me by saying those kind of things.” you chuckled, making him crack a smile.

“i mean it, you’re very special to me, y/n.” mikey said, tucking in a piece of hair behind your ear. you felt suffocated, feeling your airways and chest tightening. you couldn’t tell if it was from all that food you stress-ate or the feelings that threatened to pour out right this moment.

“can we go somewhere private, i gotta tell you something.” you urgently ushered him, as he quickly nodded his head before being dragged away to the groom’s room.

you quickly closed the door behind you, locking it before turning to face him. mikey grew concerned at your behavior and silence as he constantly asked if you were okay.

“if someone were to ask me what would be the best and worst day of my life, i would tell them that it was the day that i met you.” you breathed out, making mikey tilt his head to the side in confusion.

“huh?” he managed to say.

“it was the day where i found someone that understood me as a person deep from within, knew my every thought and feeling before i even had to say it or act on it. i found my other half, the person that made me, well, me. the person whom i’ve grown to not be able to live without as well. which also brings it to why it’s my worst day as well.” you grew silent, words feeling too heavy to spew out as tears gathered in your eyes.

“the person that i can’t live without, mikey.” you choked out, tears now streaming down your face as mikey’s eyes widened.

“y/n, i don’t under-”

“i love you, okay! not as a friend, but as someone more. i wanted to be the person that you spend the rest of your life with.” you cried, making him gulp harshly.

“i wanted to be your bride.” you sadly laughed, looking up at him with a tear-stained face as your mascara and eyeliner was now smudged.

“oh my god, y/n.” he whispered, trying to pull you into a hug but you quickly stopped him.

“don’t! if you hug me right now, i’ll break and won’t be able to stop myself. please, just hear me out. when we went ring shopping, i never wanted to take it off of my finger and it felt so nice when you put it on me. that night, i went home and couldn’t stop envisioning a future where it was us instead. i’ve loved you ever since we were kids, mikey.” you confessed, making him break into tears as he pulled you into a hug, unable to contain himself.

“then why the hell didn’t you say anything before? you even had the chance to object when the priest said the vows. why didn’t you say anything!” he sobbed, his embrace tightening as if he never wanted to let you go.

“because she’s good, mikey. you need a wife who’s sweet, tender, gentle and understanding. she’s perfect for you, mikey. you’ll be okay, i know you will.” you gave him a sad smile, holding his face as you looked deep into his eyes.

“but you’re also-”

“no, mikey. you need someone who can cherish you and spend many more happy years to come. i can’t give you that.” you sniffled, making him furrow his eyebrows.

“i don’t understand, what’s going on?” mikey panicked.

“i’m dying, mikey. that day that i met you, i was diagnosed with an inoperable brain tumor and it seems that i barely have a full month left to live. i was supposed to be long gone by last month but i guess i was lucky enough to see you get married.” you cried with a smile.

“no, no, you’re lying to me. this can’t be! y/n, this isn’t time for jokes, please, i can’t lose you too. i’ll marry you, i’ll manage something, i promise. please, just don’t leave me.” he begged, holding onto you like you would disappear from his reach if he were to let go.

“mikey, don’t make all of this go into vain. i worked so hard to come to terms with my feelings and get closure. which is why i waited until after the wedding to tell you because even if i do leave you, you’ll have her to be there with you. you need to live for me, and enjoy your life in happiness. okay?” you sobbed, trying to convince him but he kept shaking his head in denial.

“no! please, y/n! i-i-”

“here, make sure to share with her, alright? don’t get too greedy.” you tried to joke to lighten the mood, as you opened his palm to give him the container of chocolate pudding.

“y/n, please.” he cried, but you were stern with your decision. you felt yourself becoming light-headed and the familiar feeling of nausea. it almost felt like you were dying, ironically.

“bye, mikey.” you gave him a soft kiss on his cheek before running out of the room. mikey yelled your name behind like a madman as he ran after you, but you were too ahead. the fresh air hit your skin, sending goosebumps everywhere and it felt like you could breathe again.

you walked over to draken’s car and opened the door, sitting down as you were about to close the door.

“i love you too, y/n! i always have and always will.” was the last thing you heard before slamming the door shut, breaking into tears.

“start the car, ken.” you said in between your sobs, driving away from the church.

“so, you gonna hide from him forever or what? you know, y/n, i never told you how much i love you. well, not like that. but, i’m grateful for having someone like you in my life. i’d do anything to make you smile, you’re the most selfless and kind person i’ve ever met. an angel is what you are.” draken rambled, making you softly chuckle.

“thanks ken, i love you too.” you tiredly slurred your words, draken glancing at you as he stopped at a light, a smile etching on his face.

“seems like you’re tired, let’s get takeout tonight and go to the movies with remi. you know, just like the old days. what do you say?” draken asked, only to be met with silence. he chuckled to himself as he decided to not bother you and let you sleep till you both got home.

draken finished parking the car, calling your name a few times to try and wake you up, but you wouldn’t budge.

“jeez, gonna make me carry your ass up those damn stairs.” he groaned while getting out of the car and opening the door to yours.

“y/n-” he grew quiet, seeing your pale face made his blood run could. draken quickly bent down and put his ear on your heart, two fingers on your wrist.

no beat, no pulse.

“no, no⸻y/n, wake up! please, i need you to wake up!” draken cried, wrapping his arms around your cold and lifeless body to give you some of his warmth.

but it was no use, you were already gone.

1K notes · View notes

cowboyfromh3ll · 7 months

Note

Charles smith is usually a very quiet, reserved man. But when he hears Micah insult fem!reader (Whom charles is sweet on) for rejecting his advances, the reader pushes him away, which he responded with slapping her hard enough for her to fall down.

Charles couldn't help himself, and he tackled Micah and would have beat him to death if Arthur and John didn't pull him on.

Afterwards, after his adrenaline seems to wear off, he starts to feel pain in his knuckles. The reader pulls him aside to set his broken knuckle back into place and to wrap his hand up. She thanks him with a kiss :) fluffy, angsty, the works <3

Million Dollar Man

(Charles Smith x Fem!Reader)

This was so cute. I love my followers' reqs. Also I have a near identical request after this which is kinda freaky but they are literally asking for the exact same thing and idk how to do a different spin on this so this will be for both of y'all anons whoever you are.

Warnings: Man on woman violence, then man on man

There was something about the vulgarity of a man that made you all the more appalled with them. Often when Micah would be near you, you’d have to swallow hard in fear that you might abruptly throw up on your shoes. There was nothing appealing about the man. Whenever he spoke to you, you would’ve liked to wring his neck for disturbing your peace. And his tepid attempts at flirting were described as otherwise laughable. His initial advances were turned down politely, not something you wanted to make a big deal out of. But he was consistent, so much so that your patience began to wear down with him.

You once giggled and waved your hand dismissively, repeating reluctant no’s over and over until Micah finally got tired and left you alone. It seemed to be a ticking time bomb though, because the next time he approached you his advances would increase tenfold. Walking around freely in camp felt like walking on eggshells, and you’d often have to duck behind someone anytime you heard the familiar raspy, drawl of Micah. Your polite refusals slowly transformed into you demanding he leave you alone, hoping and praying that one of the men in camp would come over and help you get rid of him. Occasionally it’d get as bad as Micah calling you a whore, before throwing a flurry of other insults at you and storming off angrily. It was times like these you wished you were a man, so you could possess the same mass as one to hopefully beat the hell out of Micah. But your limber body provided no such abilities.

“C’mon sweetheart, just let me take you on one date.” He invited himself over to your tent, leaning on the wagon situated behind it with crossed arms, eyeing you uncomfortably. You were sitting there with Mary-Beth, who was just as uncomfortable, and frankly scared, as you were. She offered you a sympathetic look, mouthing a “sorry” to you before averting her gaze back to her sewing.

“Micah, for the last time, leave me alone already. I said no.” You were firm in your inflection, your body rigid and shaking out of irritation and fear. As much as you hated the man, he also intimidated you. You knew how violent he could get, and the fact remained in the back of your mind always.

“You don’t know what you’re missing out on.” He insisted, chuckling afterwards in a way that made you swallow a gag of disgust. His attempts at having a sugar sweet laugh that could seduce you were fruitless, sounding instead like the metallic screech of a train braking.

“I could show you a real good time…” He added.

You stood at once, gathering your things to move elsewhere in camp and bidding Mary-Beth a silent farewell. You bunched your fabrics and sewing materials against your lap, moving to walk away until you felt Micah clamp his hand down on your upper arm. You tried to push him off but he was using all his strength.

“You ain’t going nowhere.”

“Micah, you're hurting me.” You warned him, your voice inflected with actual fear. It wasn’t so much the pain but the act of him holding onto you that felt so awful, the knowledge that he was the one in control of the situation. You weren’t sure, despite his violent streak, if he’d actually hit you right now. But he definitely wasn’t opposed to using applied force.

“This is the last time you say no to me, you hear?!” He yanked you towards him by the arm, looking to Mary-Beth, who had already gone up and left to retrieve someone for help. When your chest met his, you dropped your materials and instinctively put up your arm between the two of you, your elbow acting as a protective barrier. You shoved as hard as you could, just barely managing to push him off of you.

“Let me go you fucking creep!”

Before you could even register him stepping forward, he delivered a heavy slap to your face. Your body jerked to one side from the force of the slap causing you to fall on your hip. You raised your elbow once again to protect yourself from the fall, promptly moving to cup your stinging cheek. You were seething at this point.

“What the fuck?!” Your voice trembled in your rage, squeezing your eyes hard with each blink so as to not allow tears to escape. You dare not look up at him again in fear, only staring at the ground beneath you. You hoped to god people from around camp had noticed by now.

God himself seemed to have answered your prayers, because not a second later you turned to see Micah tackled by Charles. With a guttural yell, he pinned Micah down to the floor, swinging his fists at him with his full force. You weren’t sure of the force intended by Charles, but the impact of his fists alone caused Micah’s flesh to lacerate, forming raw gashes that began to bleed in seconds. Charles’ anger was near animalistic, seeing red and blinded by rage as he continued to strike Micah’s face, who was helplessly clawing at him in an attempt to get him off. You’re sure he would’ve killed him, if not for the fact that Arthur and John had to pry him off. You hadn’t even registered the horrified screams of people around camp, some even clicking their tongues and slyly commenting that Micah was asking for it.

You felt two gentle hands lift you up, presumably Miss Grimshaw, who was frantically asking you if you were alright. You whispered out a yes, the stinging of your cheek reduced to a throbbing warmth. No one offered Micah any help in getting up; everyone was far too focused on getting Charles’ to calm down so he wouldn’t charge him again.

Once the dust settled, you insisted you were fine and walked past Miss Grimshaw, approaching Charles who still seemed to be grappling with his anger and keeping it in check. In unison, the two of you looked at eachother and asked, “Are you okay?”

The two of you stared at each other, and you felt a small laugh bubble up in you at the coincidence, Though your amusement was replaced by horror when you looked down at Charles’ left fist, which was swollen and bruised.

“Oh my god!” You cried, moving to cradle his hand but promptly retracting your own when you heard him hiss. “Your hand! It’s broken!” You looked back up at him in concern, feeling the heavy weight of guilt settle within you like a boulder thrown into a lake before sinking to the waterbed. He shook his head, wincing as the pain became more prominent as his adrenaline wore off.

“Don’t worry about me. Are you okay? Micah hit you pretty hard… I…” Charles pursed his lips at the very mention of his name, having to suck in a deep breath before he looked back at you. You shook your head, grabbing Charles’ arm and leading him to your tent.

“I’m fine! But we need to tend to your hand asap.” You sat him on a crate just outside your tent, briefly venturing inside before remerging with some bandages you had sourced from your satchel. You sat before him on your knees, taking his massive hand into your own. You felt your heart swell in tenderness for him, wanting to throw yourself on him as an embrace to thank him for the valiant act.

“You didn’t have to do that…” You began carefully coiling the bandages around his knuckles, looking back up at his face occasionally to spot any signs of pain you might be causing.

“He had it coming anyways. It was bound to happen. But I’m sorry it had to happen this way.” He motioned to your cheek once again, which was still a flush red. You were sure it would bruise, but you tried not to think about it. As you tightened the bandages around his fist, he hissed, his body jerking slightly.

“I’m sorry…” You stilled your ministrations, looking up at him with a pout.

“No it’s okay… Thank you. This means a lot. And it was worth it to defend you from the scum bag Micah.” He smiled warmly at you in a way that made you giddy.

“Well.. thank you for that. It was actually quite satisfying to see.” You admitted with a sly smile, breaking into laughter.

“Anytime, I mean it. Anytime.”

You finished wrapping his knuckle up, planting a gentle kiss on it to finish your care off; a bold act that left you internally panicking. But he found it rather cute, and continued to hold your hand as he moved to stand.

The final act of your boldness would be you leaning forward and landing a kiss on Charles’ lips, leaving him standing there in bewilderment and pleasant surprise.

“Thank you, again.” You cooed, your face burning up and blending in with the shade of your already red cheek. In the morning, your cheek would ache with the memory of the pain inflicted on you, but your heart would swell in remembrance of your salvation.

Million Dollar Man - Lana Del Rey

#red dead redemption 2 #red dead fandom #red dead redemption community #red dead redemption 2 x reader #van der linde gang x reader #writing #red dead fanfiction #charles smith #charles smith x reader fluff #charles smith x reader #Charles smith fluff #micah being an ass #micah bell

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misc-obeyme · 1 year

Text

MC Talks Back

This was another suggestion from @oakley-tree1 for MC being disrespectful/talking back. I was inspired to write this as a scene rather than headcanons. I did my best with the bros, I hope they're not too OOC lol. I felt like it made the most sense for MC to talk back to Lucifer, so that's basically what happens, but all the brothers are present.

Thank you for the request, I hope it's not too far off from what you were thinking!

GN!MC

Warnings: MC getting sassy, but otherwise nothing.

It had been a particularly grueling week in the Devildom. You had so many projects you needed to work on, things you needed to take care of, and a bunch of demons who constantly needed your attention. You weren't even sure how you managed to balance everything.

Not only had you managed to calm down Satan after a particularly intense bout of wrathful destruction, you had also waited in line for hours with Levi so he could get some limited edition merch. Later on in the week, you had given Mammon a bunch of Grimm when he asked, mostly because you didn't care to know what he was going to do with it.

It had been a long week and you were tired. So it was nice to finally be sitting at the dinner table with the brothers at the end of the week. You were eating some kind of weird Devildom cuisine, but it tasted good even if you weren't sure what it was. Didn't Beel say something about shadow hog?

You weren't particularly paying attention to the usual bickering and banter going on around you. At this point, it was comforting background noise.

You did notice when Lucifer put down his fork, mostly because this was usually a signal that he was about to start lecturing someone. The entire table would get to listen as he rambled at length about their image and so on and so forth.

"MC."

You looked up at him, surprised. You weren't expecting him to start lecturing you. You hadn't done anything wrong lately, right? You began wracking your brain, trying to think of what it could be.

"It has come to my attention that you lent quite a lot of money to Mammon," Lucifer said.

You blinked. That wasn't exactly unusual. You glanced at Mammon. He was sitting beside you and while he'd been acting normal all evening, he was now clearly sweating bullets. His eyes kept darting between you and Lucifer, not settling on either of you.

Okay, so this was about something Mammon probably did with the money you gave him. You didn't even know what he wanted it for, but did it really matter?

Although you could feel your irritation rising, you kept your cool as you replied, "I don't see how that's any of your business."

The room went silent. You could sense all the brothers staring at you in shock as you calmly took another bite of your dinner.

You looked over at Lucifer, as if daring him to say anything else. You were sure he was going to look angry, but to your surprise, he smirked.

"Allow me to clear it up for you," Lucifer said. "That money was spent on counterfeit Wersace bags that he has been attempting to sell online."

You shrugged. "What do you expect me to do about it?"

Suddenly you could feel Mammon gripping your leg beneath the table. He was squeezing so hard you could feel his nails through your clothes. You looked back at him for a moment to see that he looked absolutely terrified.

"That's right," Satan said unexpectedly into the following silence. "It really has nothing to do with MC. After all, how could they know how Mammon would spend that money?"

"They should know better by now," Lucifer said, frowning. He folded his arms. "And it was quite a large amount."

"Anyway, it doesn't matter!" Mammon suddenly burst out. "I already stopped tryin' to sell 'em! I got rid of all the merchandise like ya told me to. What difference does it make how I got 'em to begin with?"

You narrowed your eyes a little. This behavior was pretty suspicious.

From across the table, Asmo giggled. "He just doesn't want you guys to find out that he didn't know they were counterfeits."

"Shaddup!" Mammon's grip on your leg somehow got tighter. "I knew exactly what I was lookin' at!"

You pulled at his wrist to get him to let go of you. "If you've already gotten rid of them and everything, why are we even talking about this?"

"I'm concerned about your tendency to give in to my brothers' every whim," Lucifer said. "Especially when it comes to lending money to Mammon."

"Oi!" Mammon protested.

You rolled your eyes. "It isn't like it's a big deal. You just need to chill out."

You could hear the sound of Belphie attempting to hold in his laughter from the other side of you. Satan was also struggling to keep his expression neutral.

Lucifer's frown deepened. "Do you know what it was like for me to explain to Lord Diavolo why my younger brother was selling Wersace knockoffs?"

"I'm sure it was most terrible," you said, your voice dripping with sarcasm. "But honestly if Lord Diavolo isn't used to this kind of thing by now, he really needs to get with it."

Belphie was nearly shaking with laughter beside you. Mammon, on the other hand, looked like he was afraid for your life.

"I'm pretty sure Lord Diavolo doesn't care as much as Lucifer does," Levi said absently, his eyes on the video game in his hands. "He always just laughs when you tell him about this kind of thing."

"Anyway, what I choose to do with my money is what I consider to be none of your business. I'll give it to whoever I want," you said. You stood up from the table and pushed your half full plate across it. "You want the rest of my food, Beel?"

"Yes," Beel said seriously before he began demolishing what was left of your dinner.

Mammon caught up to you as you started walking back to your room.

"What was that about?" he asked, looking back over his shoulder as though he expected Lucifer to come after you both any second. "It ain't like ya to talk back like that."

You sighed. "I've just had a long week and I didn't want to listen to a lecture. Did you really not know that you bought fakes?"

Mammon flushed a little. "Course I knew!"

You gave him a look.

He folded his arms and looked away from you. "M-maybe I didn't…"

You laughed a little and bumped into him as you walked. "Maybe next time you'll be more careful about what you buy with my money."

"Sh-shaddup!" Mammon said and you laughed again.

masterlist | Thank you for reading!

#obey me #obey me shall we date #obey me lucifer #obey me mammon #obey me leviathan #obey me satan #obey me asmodeus #obey me beelzebub #obey me belphegor #needed to come up with a reason for Lucifer to lecture MC #so of course it was really about Mammon #can't help it I love that guy lol #obey me mc #request #misc writes

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scekrex · 2 months

Note

Any way you could write a scene where Adam is punished in a sexual way and reader does that? Aftercare of course. Dom!Reader and Sub!Adam

I got you hun, hope ya like it xoxo/p

Everything I love, I guess it makes me damned

pairing: Adam x male!reader

warnings: language, spanking, punishment, dom/sub undertone

note: not beta read bc fuck you I don't have beta readers

When Adam had first agreed to the deal you had offered him he had expected nothing of it. He had been reborn as a sinner, had lost his path and his soul, so what was the difference between giving it up and giving it to you? The protection that came when he gave it to you. He had been stupid enough to trust someone like you, an overlord, a sinner. And look where that got him.

He was kneeling on the bed, next to him you sat on the edge of it. A purple glowing metal collar appeared around the first man’s beck, it was uncomfortably tight and Adam’s hands reached for it the second it appeared, trying to tear it away from his skin, trying to break free. But the magic of deals wasn’t that easy to break. A chain was attached to the collar, glowing in the same shade of purple, on the other end of the chain, your hand. “I said,” you growled angrily and harshly yanked on the chain, forcing Adam to bend down against his will, and a second of losing his balance was enough to fall over entirely. His chest crashed down on your legs, knocking what little air was left inside his lungs out of him, a small whimper escaped him as his head hung down in defeat, “Bend down, Adam.” And even though you were harsh and your tone was sour, maybe even angry, you didn’t insult him like others of your kind would have, you stayed somewhat respectful. You grabbed a firm hold of his body and shoved him forwards a little,his hip bone pressed against your thighs and you felt him shudder as you snapped your finger. Did you do it extra loudly to give the first man somewhat of a warning? Maybe. And with that snap the fabric that had covered his once holy body was gone, there was nothing hiding his skin anymore and Adam really wasn’t sure if he was enjoying himself or if he was afraid of what was yet to come.

Your hand found his jaw, squeezing it tightly as you turned his face your way, “I own your soul, Adam. You do as I say, if you don’t things won’t work out as well as they had been between us. Is that clear?” Adam’s eyes didn’t even dare to look at you, he focused on everything that wasn’t you just to not look you in the eyes. He also decided to remain silent. Your hand crashed down onto the soft skin of his asscheeks and a loud slapping sound filled the room. Adam gasped, his back arched in a way that looked a little too wonderful, a little too divine. Because how was it possible for one to look like the most holy creature while being punished by such an impure thing like you? It was truly a mystery. “Answer, when I ask you questions. Is that clear, Adam?” And that was when his eyes met yours for the first time, “Yes, Sir.” He spat the words out as if it would physically hurt him to say them, and maybe it did hurt him, not really physically but definitely mentally. Adam wasn’t used to submitting to someone, he had always been the Adam, a person that was admired and liked, people respected him. Down in hell none of these things were the case and ever since he had sold his soul to you, he was on a tight leash - quite literally. You weren’t taking advantage of the possession of the first man’s soul very often, it rarely happened, but when you did, it was always because Adam was misbehaving. “Good, “ you hummed, quite content that he had given in so soon, so easily. That would make the following punishment a lot easier.

A thing you had been quick to figure out was, despite Adam claiming otherwise he was quite enjoying himself during those punishments of you. When you had first spanked his nude ass, he had managed to orgasm without any stimulation, the only thing that had gotten him hard and over the edge had been spanks. And back then you had been quite impressed, Adam wasn’t exactly giving kinky vibes, you had always taken him for a vanilla sort of guy before that accident had happened. And from then on his misbehavior only worsened, you were aware he was doing it on purpose, that all he wanted to get out of it was yet another spanking session. So you gave him distance instead. He had not taken that sort of punishment very well and looking back it had definitely been wrong from your end, but at the time Adam had deserved it. It’s nothing you would do again to punish him though.

The praise vibrated through Adam’s body and he shivered a little as your hand came down on his ass again, harder, more violent. He didn’t mind, he knew he deserved it. Not only for acting up against you but for what he had done in general. He wasn’t as pure and perfect as he had made people believe he was and he deserved to be punished. Your hand hit his butt cheek again, more and more force was involved and it punched the prettiest sounds out of Adam the first man was enjoying this more than he should have and it really didn’t take him long to get hard against your thighs, oh and the feeling of the control you had over this man tasted more divine than Adam’s imperfect and stained lips ever could. The spanks kept getting harder, firmer, harsher. You were getting more and more violent with him and he loved it, lived for it, drowned in it. “Fuck,” he breathed out, his eyes were closed, his face was scrunched up and his tried to create as much friction as possible in order to get him off - and while this was supposed a punishment, you also wanted him to enjoy it to a certain level. Yet you grabbed his hips hard to stop their movement. “Nuh uh,” you mumbled and you were pretty sure he felt your words more than he actually heard them when a desperate whine fell from his lips, followed by a loud, painful scream. Good, you were reaching that stage. The stage in which Adam is enjoying himself very much, but his ass is sore enough to also cause him to voice the pain you bring him. A weak, barely audible, “Please,” fell from his lips and his eyes met yours. There were tears welling up in them and the golden orbs of his looked shiny, so broken yet lust and desire was reflecting in them, telling you that he was okay. You kept one hand on his hips to keep them still as you spanked his ass again, leaving angry red handprints on soft, milky skin. You watched in delight as Adam started to drool from the pleasure he was feeling, the first man completely out of his mind and you enjoyed every single little second of it.

His eyes looked hazy, as if they were clouded by smoke and he struggled with keeping them open, that’s how fucked out he was, salvia dripped from the corner of his mouth onto the floor and he was breathing heavily. It was only then that you noticed the hot, sticky liquid that stained your pants from the outside. Adam had come undone without friction, the simple act of spanking him had sent him over the edge.

You were quick to lift him into your arms, his body was completely limb and if he wouldn’t be so hot and if breath wouldn’t go so hard, you would’ve been afraid he might be dead. But Adam was very much alive, totally out of his mind, but alive. You carefully got up with Adam in your arms to gently lay him down onto the soft mattress, the first man clung onto you like his life was depending on it and in that exact situation it probably was, you were the only thing that tied you to reality. Once his back hit the mattress, you removed one hand from his body to snap your fingers yet again to remove the dirty clothes from your body, leaving you in your boxershorts only. You carefully lifted Adam’s upper body a little and sat down behind him, your back hitting the headboard as you pulled the first man against your chest. Your hands disappeared in his hair and your lips brushed the shell of ear as you whispered, “You did so well Adam, you did so perfectly fine.” A small hum fell from the brunette’s lips as he snuggĺed up against your naked chest, salvia met your skin as the former angel continued drooling, you didn’t mind that at all though. You made sure he kept breathing, checked that he wouldn’t choke on his spit and kept his body warm by pulling a blanket over both of your bodies. He would fall asleep soon and when he would wake up hours later, you would be there to carry him through the consequences that spanking brought. But for now the fallen angel was all yours, yours to hold and protect, yours to take care of. His complaining was what would follow later.

#hazbin hotel #hazbin hotel adam #adam x male reader #male reader #adam x y/n #adam x reader #adam x you

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harbingerscry · 4 months

Text

Comfort (Ghost x GN!Reader)

I normally have no drive to write about Ghost but I wrote a small drabble about a week ago that I just had to flesh out. There is more to this but I feel it would be more appropriate to post it as a separate part. I hope y'all enjoy!

Aquila is just a codename, it means Eagle in Latin. I just thought it was cute because it was the nickname my Latin teacher gave me for class in high school.

This does not contain NSFW content

There aren't many men you let see you like this. Even fewer you would actively sit with as you wade through the silent but turbulent waves of your emotions. It was always the hardest after a mission. When the adrenaline that had you standing up on Everest eventually let you nosedive into the ocean after the rocks give way underneath you. It wasn't always bad, a jog to clear your head was enough to stave off the plummet. Other times, there was nothing that could help, you just had to let yourself float along. The comforting heat and pressure of another’s back pressed to yours was enough to keep you grounded though, and the nicotine filling your lungs allowed jittering nerves to settle into a comfortable buzz beneath your skin.

“Still breathin’ Aquila?” Ghost’s gruff voice rumbled from behind you before pulling another audible drag from his own cigarette. The question was metaphorical, he could easily feel every pull and release of air from your lungs through the muscles of your back pressed to his. However, he knew you too well. After being on and off the field with you for years he could read you like a book.

“What makes any salad a Caesar salad?” The question made you turn from your thoughts and raise an inquisitive brow. He must have felt he had your attention because he was quick to drop the punch.

“As well as I'll ever be able to Ghost.” The humor in your voice was dry like a desert but it made him scoff nonetheless. That tone told him all he needed to know. The two of you were alike in similar but different ways after all. Both scarred by trauma that ran root deep. It made you an ocean, able to bring joy and comfort with the same waters that pull others to its darkest depths. His made him a mountain. Steady, strong, forever standing through tumultuous storms. He was deadly though, quick to burry you under tons of rock or let the cliffs crumble under you. It's the reason you two pulled towards one another like a set of magnets. It was also why he found himself with you right now instead of brooding alone.

“Stabbing it twenty-three times.”

There was a short pause as you processed the joke.

“...That was horrible.”

“Got ya to react didn't it?” Nothing could have stopped the choked snort that left your nose. He always does this when he sees you getting too far into your thoughts. You've noticed it's his way of trying to lighten the mood or keep someone from spiralling too far. Regardless of how dark the jokes can get. A smile was quick to spread across your face for the first time since landing this morning.

“Spose you're right about that.” You stubbed out the last bit of your cancer stick and swiveled yourself to look out at the tarmac-covered base you get to call home. There were a few soldiers doing rounds due to night watch but it was an otherwise quiet night. You would even call it peaceful but you’d hate to jinx it. Ghost took his time in turning to look out at base with you; adjusting his balaclava to cover his face like usual after giving a final exhale of gray smoke.

“Thank you for sitting with me Simon, means a lot.” Though your words were a whisper, the gratitude lined with thinly veiled affection was clear in your voice. You couldn't see it due to the face covering but hearing it made him smile. Small moments like this are what make his heart try to flutter against the tight hold of his will.

“You're welcome (y/n)…now go to bed.” His command was met with an amused huff as you slowly rose from the ground and stretched, various parts of your body popping in protest. You’d think your joints would be less stiff considering your stretch and run around 1600, but you weren’t getting any younger you guess.

“Getting rid of me that quick? How cruel.” The faux pout on your lips made Ghost raise a blonde eyebrow in amusement. He could never get rid of you. He wanted you around too badly, craved your presence too much. He has never had the guts to say it out loud; despite working together for well over a year now. Why? Well fear was a big reason, he has already lost so many of the people he loves. Losing you would be another nail in his coffin.

“Need my alone time.” You nodded in spite of the longing you felt, you never have enjoyed leaving his side. However, everyone requires some form of alone time, and Ghost treasures his more than most.

“I understand, but ring if you need me, okay? I'm always here.” With that you strode to the building's door, opening it and slipping inside. As you began heading towards your room; you couldn't help but wish you had x-ray vision. You wanted to look back and see if his gaze still lingered on where you once were.

Unbeknownst to you he was doing exactly that. The man was down bad, and he knew it.

#cod modern warfare #cod mw2 #x reader #x female reader #x fem!reader #x gn reader #x gender neutral reader #ghost x reader #simon riley x reader #simon ghost riley #x male reader #call of duty modern warfare #simon riley x you

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delopsia · 2 years

Text

Just And Just As | Nick Furcillo X Reader

Word Count: 10,000 t.t Cross Posted Here on AO3 Warnings & Notes: Implied NSFW, brief mentions of food. Really just a lot of fluff and borderline smut. Idk man, I blacked out when I wrote this. Gender-neutral reader and mentions of a height difference because I couldn't resist.

No, no no no, this is not how your plan ends.

The voices behind you are growing louder. Closer. They'll be here any moment. Trembling hands turn the doorknob once more. It turns. Pull again. Nothing. The damned thing is jammed and won't budge.

"Y/N!"

Shit.

They're almost here. They know this is where you've gone. Any moment now and they'll be rounding that bend into camp. One more time. One more time.

Again, you turn the knob and pull.

No dice. You're accepting defeat - the ziplines would have been a better place to run. Fuck, why did you choose the fucking pool of all places?

The doorknob tears out of your hands as it flies open. Familiar hands grasp your wrists and tug you inside. There's no time to grasp what just happened, no time to avoid stumbling face-first into a broad chest.

"Whoa!" The door audibly slams shut behind you. "What's got you in such a rush, sweetheart?"

Temptation to step back is ebbed away by the arms that circle around you, gently securing you against his chest, fingertips tracing circles into your spine.

"The campers were getting close," you grumble, peering up to meet his eye, "and I couldn't get the damn door to open."

He's silent — just for a moment, brown eyes flickering to the door, then back down to you. "You do remember..." he pauses to fight the big, goofy grin that's sprawling across his face — his efforts are futile, "that the door is a push to open, right?"

Your cheeks burn.

"Oh my god," you bury your face back into his chest, concealing your shame, "what am I supposed to even say after you've just stood here and witnessed me act a fool for a full two minutes?"

"You could say, 'Nick, you're such a good boyfriend, thank you so much for saving me from those rabid counselors and their equally vicious kids'," you're vaguely aware of a nose bumping against the side of your head. It's the best he can do to bend down and rest his head next to yours without outright bending down.

Nick's fingertips ghost up your naked spine, featherlight, settling at the base of your neck. They're firmer, a singular finger tapping the skin there until you draw your face from his chest to meet his gaze. "You look beautiful in this swimsuit," it's barely a whisper, so quiet that you briefly consider whether or not you'd actually heard it. The flame in Nick's cheeks state otherwise, visible even in the darkness of the pool room.

"I wish you could have come to the island with us," your hand wanders up to brush the hair from his eyes, he leans into it, "you would have loved the view from the treehouse."

"Unfortunately, someone around here has to keep all the campers fed," Nick tilts his head to press a kiss into your palm. He misses by a bit, getting the side of it more than anything, but still, it lands. "I've got a lot better of a view right here, anyway."

Both of your cheeks go up in flames, and you have to look away for a moment to regain your composure. You're not quite sure who the comment affected more, you or him. Words are hard to come by, your fingertips idly fidgeting with a lock of his hair. All this effort and planning for some alone time together, and now you can't even find the words to respond to a witty compliment. Nick takes hold of your hand, guiding it further up until you've fully tangled your digits in his long hair. It drives you impossibly closer to him, noses bumping together in your efforts to compensate for your height difference without standing on your tiptoes.

"I hope Jacob didn't trouble you too much while you were out," he says, with a dimpled frown. Jacob's constant pestering has only ramped up now that he became witness to a poorly timed peck on the lips — so much for keeping your relationship a secret, for your sanity's sake.

You shake your head, nose rubbing against his in an unintentional nose kiss, "he's calmed down since your stint in the woods last week." The image of Nick losing his temper and slamming Jacob up against an oak tree is one that will forever be burned into your memory.

Nick's stepping away, and for a fleeting moment, you're afraid that he's suddenly decided that you're far too awkward for his tastes. There's the slightest of tugs upon your wrist and it hits you that he's just leading you behind the lockers. As soon as you've rounded the corner, Nick's crowding your space, backing you into the corner until you have no space left to give him.

His lips bump against yours, touching but not quite there, "you seem to enjoy bringing that up," he observes, and before you can defend yourself, he cuts you off, "you couldn't possibly have a thing for me being mad, hm?"

Again, words fail to find you. You're saved by the familiar pressure of lips against your own, just a peck, one, two, three, four times. He goes in for a fifth, and this time you're standing on your tiptoes and catching him off guard, kissing him properly. Nick whines oh so softly, big, clumsy hands finding their way to your waist as he leans into it. The sound travels its way straight to your core, lighting a fire that burns impossibly brighter as a palm travels down your hip, fingers seizing a plush thigh. He does this every time, yet you still squeak against his lips as your leg is guided up to his hip.

You have to break it, lungs burning as you take a deep breath in, and with Nick's shoulders as leverage, hoist yourself up. It's a far cry from your first attempt, where you had jumped too low and Nick reacted too slowly, finding yourselves in a red-cheeked heap on the kitchen floor and fumbling for an excuse when Mr. H rushed in, fearing the worst.

Nick's giggle shatters the memory, and only now do you become aware of the thin trail of saliva connecting your lips. He makes no effort to break it, squeezing your thighs as he meets your lips once more. Here, with Nick comfortably settled between your legs, it's so much easier to kiss him, no ache from craning your neck up and standing on your tiptoes, just the comfortable flutter in your chest as your lips melt against his.

Cheeky, you nip at his plush bottom lip, tugging it in the slightest of nips. He gasps, lips parting oh so beautifully. He knows your tricks, meets your tongue halfway, chuckling at your surprised retreat. He chases you, hot tongue delving into your mouth, tangling with your own in the softest of touches. He tastes like peanut butter. Your lungs burn as you chase him back, spit-slicked lips sliding against his in the messiest of kisses.

You don't have much time, you both are aware of that, and you take the chance to break away from him in exchange for further ventures, catching your breath in between pecks and licks down his neck.

"Baby," he warns, and you're becoming increasingly aware of a blooming pressure between your legs.

The warning is futile, though, because your lips land on a sensitive spot just below his jaw, sucking at it gently. Nick twitches under your touch, pressing you further into the lockers with his hips, a newly freed palm gripping the back of your head as your tongue salves across the spot. The pressure of Nick between your legs is a new one, you can't quite recall a moment where he was ever this close.

"Baby wait, oh," he's powerless at the way that you nip at his skin, it's one of your favorite things to exploit.

Light explodes above you, white LEDs burning into your poor retinas.

Nick's letting you down almost immediately, backing away as if burned. The room feels impossibly cold without him crowding your senses, drowning you in all he has to offer.

"I knew I'd find you two stooges in here somewhere," Mr. H's voice is jarring, compared to how softly you and Nick had been speaking. It's only now that you realize that you've shut your eyes. "The hell are you two doing in here?"

"Intense game of rock paper scissors," Nick supplies, "we're going to Nationals, haven't you heard?"

When Mr. H doesn't immediately buy it, you fill in with your preplanned lie. "I got a migraine from the sun and this was the only quiet, dark place we could find," you've told this lie so many times that everyone is beginning to think it's true.

"Where are the sunglasses I bought you?" Mr. H makes a motion for you and Nick to head towards the door. You follow without question.

"Emma borrowed them for a theater class and never gave them back," at least you're honest, this time, "it's all an exploit to keep me from telling you how she's sneaking out at night."

"Are you sure you don't want us to tell you how they're doing it?" Nick chuckles, bumping his shoulder against yours with a not-so-discreet wink.

Mr. H shakes his head, fumbling with his keys. Hell, he's locking the door this time. "I want to catch them organically, in the act," he says, rather jovial for a man who just walked in on two of his counselors making out in the locker room, "what use am I if I can't even catch two horny twenty-year-olds sneaking out?"

His loss, you suppose. Ever since Emma figured out that Mr. H religiously goes to bed at 10:45 PM sharp, gets up once to pee at 2 AM, and then sleeps until 6:30, they haven't been caught once.

Nick bumps you again, harder this time, forcing you to glare up at him and acknowledge his presence. There's a red spot under his jaw and a funny little glint in his eye — like he's gotten away with murder.

"Back to why I'm looking for you, Y/N, you have a patient, and Nick, you have mouths to feed." Just like that, your excitement has exited from your body and flown off to the high heavens.

Back to work.

Blaire Whitson is one of those children that is almost always in your office, nursing a new injury. Yesterday she fell off the swing and cut her hand wide open, the day before that, she burned her tongue on a freshly roasted marshmallow.

"Why did Lucas push you off the canoe?" Talking is hard when you're focusing on this stubborn splinter, but it's all you can do to keep the poor girl from crying.

She huffs, loud and dramatic, "same reason he pushed me out of the tree last week. He doesn't like that I have a crush on Antonio."

You've almost got this splinter, but she keeps moving and you keep losing the damn thing, no matter how hard you try to keep her knee still.

"I still think he's just jealous," there's only one person at this camp who bares that accent.

"Hi, Counselor Nick," Blaire giggles. In her moment of distraction, her knee finally holds still long enough for you to get that damned splinter. She doesn't even notice it.

"What are you doing all the way up here?" You sneak a glance up to Nick whilst you reach for the Neosporin.

He's settled himself in the doorway frame, idly massaging his wrist as he watches you do your thing. "Burned myself in the kitchen," he lifts his hand, showing off the angry red burn along the side of his right palm, "my hired help turned on the wrong burner."

You don't need to ask who his hired help is. It is common knowledge that Dylan is a menace in the cafeteria and should not be allowed within fifty feet of a microwave, regardless of whether he's being chaperoned or not. You suppose that's why you've been smelling something burning for the past half hour.

"Why would Lucas be jealous?" You haven't quite figured that one out, just seems like childish bullying, but you're not usually spending time with the kids.

Nick settles in an open chair next to you, still has a faint red mark along his neck. You practically have to drag your eyes away from it, and only because Nick is leaning over to whisper in your ear. "Ryan confiscated a love letter from him this morning."

Ah.

It takes less than a minute for you to finish cleaning up Blaire's injuries, and then she's rushing off to get dinner before it's too late. She's eaten late meals in your office far too many times for it to be a fun experience for her anymore, and you're thankful that she doesn't linger like a lot of kids do.

"Sit." You point a finger at the newly empty bed, getting up to fetch a cold compress and anything else you suspect you may need to treat his burn. You assume it can't be too bad — Nick has never been great at hiding his pain, and he doesn't seem all that bothered right now.

The burn isn't too bad, much to your relief. Nick whines every time you touch it, but that's the most you gather out of him.

"Love note, huh?"

"Said something about being upset that every girl likes his brother and not him," Nick grumbles as you massage aloe into the angry flesh of his hand, "couldn't imagine why the ladies aren't all over him."

"It's almost as if people avoid bullies, out of fear of being bullied themselves," you're struggling to focus on the task at hand. Nick's uninjured hand working its way up your shoulder is proving to be quite distracting.

"What? You don't consider being shoved out of a canoe a quality trait in a man?" He teases, giggling at his own dumb comment.

"Not exactly, no," you raise your head at the same time he does, brushing your noses together.

You can't quite bring yourself to pull away. You really should, considering the door is wide open, but you can't resist just one kiss. It seems Nick had the same idea, because he meets you halfway, chases you down for another as soon as the first one ends.

"I wish we got to have more alone time," he pouts, the moment your lips have left his. "There's literally nowhere to escape, and our wonderful coworkers take over the boathouse every damn night."

An idea strikes you as you reach for the gauze. "Why don't we sneak down to the ziplines? There's a dock down there, too."

"Oh thank the Lord, are you two finally gonna fuck?"

You're not sure when Dylan arrived, but there he is, smug as ever in the doorway. Before you can ask what he's doing here, he points to your medicine cabinet. "I need hard drugs and a nap."

Ah, right.

Dylan has a habit of getting migraines while in the cafeteria. Something about the various noises and smells just sets him off. He's brought his honorary bottle of water, saving you the trouble of fetching one yourself.

"Cabinets unlocked," you supply, beginning to wrap Nick's hand, "don't overdose."

You know the drill by now. Feed Dylan some painkillers and allow him a 30-minute nap on one of the beds, and he's good as new. You're thankful that he doesn't follow up on his first statement. If there's anyone at this camp who knows how to tease without being a genuine pest, it's Dylan.

Jacob should start taking lessons.

"Is this where you go every night after dinner?" Nick is so wrapped up in his new revelation that he doesn't notice when you finish wrapping his injury, leaving his hand stuck out even as you step away to put your things back.

"Congrats, you've found me out," Dylan says around two ibuprofen, "took you long enough."

You don't have to ask about what's coming next, ushering Nick out of the room to avoid any more fussy remarks from your most frequent patient. You just so happened to have picked the one room with a decent mattress, and Dylan religiously picks that room to sleep in.

"What's going on?" Nick wonders aloud, once the door has fallen shut behind the both of you.

"That room has the only decent mattress," you elaborate, yawning, "Dylan refuses to sleep anywhere else."

With Dylan curled up in your office, Nick walks you down to the cafeteria under the promise of reheating a meal for you. Dinner is already over, much to your dismay, but there seem to be some perks to dating the lead chef. The kitchen is a damn mess, but it's one that Nick seems to know like the back of his hand. He breezes through it, alternating between a variety of pots and pans seamlessly. There's only one empty space, in the corner next to the fridge. You swear Nick keeps it cleared just because you always sit there. You're just beginning to sit down on the wooden stool when he comes bounding over like a puppy.

"Chili mac 'n cheese," he announces in his best southern accent, placing a bowl in front of you, "and cornbread." The cornbread is on a napkin, he's been improvising ever since Dylan knocked over a whole rack of plates last week.

"Is this how you got rid of all those different noodles?" There are at least five different noodles in this, even alphabet pasta, strangely enough. Nick nods, long hair bouncing with the motion. He's always like this, eagerly awaiting your reaction to his cooking.

Nick can be quite the chef when he wants to be, and that proves to ring true even with this unusual-looking chili. He starts grinning when you go in for a second bite and cheers when you give him a thumbs up.

"Do you have tomorrow figured out or is that still a work in progress?" You ask, reaching up to push his hair from his eyes.

"Chili spaghetti," he chirps, around a mouth of cornbread. He's been obsessed with it ever since Mr. H lent him the Hackett family recipe, makes it two or three times a week anymore.

You're not sure if you heard him right. "Chili what now?"

"Chili spaghetti," he says, slower this time, "my dad and I tried it after we went camping midwest last year. I've been thinking about it ever since." His stomach growls as he speaks, as if to put emphasis on his statement.

If you had your phone, you would look this up, because you have no idea what the hell this entails. Alas, Mr. H is hellbent on keeping the camp as "original as possible", whatever that means. It makes sense for the counselors, but you'd really appreciate it if he would lighten up on the rules. Especially considering how often you overhear him playing Candy Crush.

Boomers.

You finish your food quickly — Nick's waiting on you before he starts cleaning, and you'd like to lend him a hand so that he doesn't get stuck in here until 11 PM again. It's happened before and you'd feel guilty if you let it happen again. You take off to hunt down stray utensils in the cafeteria, while Nick begins the long, strenuous process of washing every single dish by hand.

"I have eleven runaway spoons and a singular plate," you announce, upon your re-entry. Nick makes a noise, you can't tell if it's him acknowledging you or if he's just pissed off with the pot he's scrubbing. He's got a glove on his burnt hand, which only seems to be getting in the way more than anything.

With a clean towel, you dry the dishes and put them away, working as quickly as you can to catch up to Nick's queue. It's not hard — most of the dishes are the same and as such, go in the same places. Between that and the pots, you catch up to Nick rather quickly. You're leaning against the counter, waiting for the next dish when Dylan comes bounding in.

"We're back in business boys," he yawns, making a beeline for the spare sink, "Y/N I hope you can keep up."

Going into this, you weren't aware it was a challenge. Regardless, you're up for it. With two pairs of hands washing, your job gets a lot more hectic. Back and forth, you alternate between the two stations, drying the dishes as you walk them to their destinations.

"So are you two actually going down to the ziplines tonight?" Dylan asks as he hands you a particularly large knife, still dripping with water when you take it.

Nick's handing you a handful of spoons as you breeze past him. "Depends on whether we finish these dishes in time and if Mr. H catches us."

The knife block is just out of your reach, to your dismay. You have to clamber onto a stool to get to it, have to ignore the amused grins of your much taller peers. Sometimes you catch yourself wishing witchcraft was real, just so you could pay a witch to make them short for a day. Humble them a little. There's laughter outside, and you're pretty sure that's Kaitlyn who's raising her voice to garner everyone's attention.

Dylan huffs dramatically, sets down a bowl a tad too hard, "another campfire without us." It's an ongoing issue — the kitchen crew gets left behind to do all of the cleanups while the rest of the counselors go to the campfire to listen to Ryan's campfire tales. You used to go with them, but ever since you stumbled across Nick and Dylan washing dishes after midnight, you've felt too guilty to not help them out.

"We're almost done," Nick, ever the optimist.

You're working up a bit of a sweat, jumping between the two stations, drying dishes as fast as your hands will allow. Nick's moving as fast as he can. He really wants to make it to one of these fires — you can see it in his eyes. Eyebrows furrowed, tongue poked out of his mouth as he scrubs away, determined to get these dishes done.

"Is there a reason why the nurse is in the kitchen?" Mr. H's voice is so jarring that you nearly drop the plates you're cradling.

"I want to sleep at a decent time," Dylan's tongue is sharp as he speaks, "forgive us for accepting some much-needed help."

You choose not to speak, smiling as you breeze past to take another freshly washed dish. It would be far nicer if Mr. H would go ahead and just scold or kick you out, but he just stands there in the doorway, hands on his hips, staring. His presence makes it harder to focus on the task at hand. Your hands tremble as you take the next set of dishes, nearly drop a spoon when you're separating it from the forks. 'It's okay', Nick mouths, out of view of Mr. H's careful watch.

"Y/N, get to the campfire and help with the kids," your heart sinks, "I'll take over and help them finish up."

"We literally have ten plates left," Dylan deadpans.

Mr. H is quiet, stares until it begins to feel uncomfortable again. Frowning, you hand off your dish to Mr. H and head for the door. You feel like a stray cat being tossed out into the rain, slinking out into the rapidly darkening outdoors. The campers have already been herded down to the fire pit, leaving the main section of the camp empty and deserted. Walking alone in the woods is not your favorite cup of tea. It's not even that far, but the dark forest is ominous, trees towering overhead, bushes concealing God knows what behind them. The constant reports of kids seeing something lurking in the woods at night are certainly not helping the matter.

Alone and out of Mr. H's watchful eye, you drag your feet, walking as slowly as you can manage without outright stopping. Either time must be passing slower, or Mr. H is talking the boys' ears off because you find yourself approaching a roaring campfire and the boys are nowhere to be seen. Kaitlyn's waving you over, perched up on the 'Counselors Log' as she calls it. You're still not sure how she's managed to ward off all the kids, but she's successfully staked her claim and so far it seems to be well respected.

"How did flirting with Nick go?" She asks once you're within earshot.

"Great until Mr. H ran me off," pause for dramatic effect, "twice."

"Keep on trying my little Storm Trooper," you can smell the faintest twinge of alcohol on her breath, must've been a hard day for her to dig out the vodka she smuggled in, "once you get out of here, you'll be set for life with that man's fortune."

Here we go again. "I still don't know what makes you think he's rich," there's not much space on the log, you're surprised you have room to fit. Of course, all of the counselors could hypothetically fit, if Jacob wasn't taking up an entire quarter of it.

"Dude, he was wearing a designer jacket at orientation!" Emma chirps, kicking her feet. "He has to at least come from a little money."

Right on queue, Dylan and Nick walk around the bend. Mr. H follows closely behind, like some sort of creepy shadow. Something cold hits your legs, and you realize it's Kaitlyn handing you her canteen. "Hold this and pretend it's yours," she whispers, "I'm afraid Mr. H may be on to me and my drinking habits."

There's a big shuffle to fit the two extra counselors — Jacob doesn't want to move to the edge and close his damn legs, Ryan nearly knocks Abigail's notebook into the fire and she just about smacks him upside the head with it once it's returned. You find yourself teetering on the edge of the log, thrilled that Nick has chosen to sit next to you, but it's getting hard to stay on this damn log.

"This log could be just a little bit bigger," Nick chuckles, watching you struggle. "Would you rather sit in my lap?"

You're not sure if it's his words or if it's the raging fire that puts the red in your cheeks. "Are you sure?"

"Long as you're comfortable with it," he says it so easily like it's the simplest thing in the world.

Despite your better judgment —the kids are definitely not going to let this one go— you agree. Nick shuffles a bit, adjusting to the extra space, and reaches out for you with open arms. He curls around you, long arms securing around your waist as you settle into his lap. Vaguely, you become concerned that you may be a bit too heavy for him. You attempt to alleviate that worry by putting more of your weight onto your feet than you are in his lap, it's an awkward sensation.

Nick's arms tighten, pulling you the rest of the way down. Plan? Foiled. "You're not too heavy for me, darling, don't even worry about that," lips ghost against the shell of your ear, presses a kiss behind it. There's a loud gasp from the kids that has you freezing, fearing the worst. Did you do something?

Then you hear Ryan's voice, and it hits you that he's just telling a story. Nick's chin hooks over your shoulder, a welcome weight that draws the stress from your tired body. He's so warm, all wrapped up around you like an oversized blanket, it's like you were made to fit right into his arms.

You've forgotten about the canteen in your hand. At least, forgotten it until Kaitlyn reaches over and plucks it from your hand. "Don't you two just look cozy," she teases, and you feel Nick hide his face in your shoulder.

Ryan's tale of the night comes to a close, and the kids are not happy about it. A handful of them beg for another story in their shrill little voices, someone offers their fruit snacks as bribery. You really need to pay attention to his stories more often, they're the highlight of the night, and half the time, you don't even hear them.

"I think I've told a story for just about everything," Ryan's mostly just talking to himself, albeit loudly.

"Have you told a story about werewolves yet?" The words tumble out of your mouth before you can do anything about it.

Ryan's eyebrows furrow, and he's quiet for a moment. "Can't say that I have, actually."

"Hey guys," Mr. H is lowering his voice, stepping between you and the fire, "let's just skip the werewolf topic and get everyone to bed."

It's not like you're being scolded, you've done nothing wrong, but his tone makes you feel like you've committed the most heinous crime imaginable. Your coworkers share the same expression, confused beyond words.

"Mr. H, we still have thirty minutes before bed," Nick's protest goes nowhere. Mr. H's words are law, and if he wants everyone in bed now, what more choice do you have?

With a bucket of water, Mr. H puts out the fire, and you're once again tasked to do a job that you don't get paid enough for. Getting out of Nick's lap is the worst part—you feel so safe there; it's like nobody could lay a single finger on you.

Getting the kids back to their cabins is like herding cats. Someone is always doing their own thing and not listening to instructions, and it makes your job impossibly tricky. You lose sight of Nick rather quickly, too wrapped up in stopping a group of boys from marching off to 'hunt down the wendigos themselves'. In a way, their attitude reminds you of Jacob. Invincible until they're not. It's all you can do to keep the ringleader from tearing off into the night, and he's only talked out of it once you're out of the forest altogether.

"Campers, head to your cabins!" Kaitlyn shouts, "don't make me tell you twice!"

She's gonna have to tell them twice. About half the kids, including your Wendigo Fighters, trudge to their cabins, but the remaining half cant give a damn what she just said. Who's truly in charge here? Because it seems like the campers could overrun this place if they so chose. Speaking of running camps, you can see Mr. H tying some sort of rope to the side of the pool building. He's dragging the rope across the lawn, looks like he's taking it all the way across the main exit of camp. The hell is he doing?

There's a small voice behind you that barely stands out among the chatter of campers. Blaire stands behind you, Antonio close behind, holding her tiny little hand.

"Did you say something?" You ask, kneeling to get on her level.

"Counselor Nick asked me to ask you to come and save him," she repeats, pointing off to your right.

Ah. There's Nick.

He's amassed himself a small crowd, and he really doesn't look like he knows how to get out of it. This happens every time he opens his mouth; the kids love asking him to say things in his accent.

"Thanks, Blaire," you reach up to fix a stray hair, "head on to your cabin now, 'kay?"

With Blaire and her friend running off to their cabins, you're faced with the familiar task of saving your boyfriend from certain doom. You can hear the words he's saying, "butter," "squirrel," and "juice box," being the first three you hear.

"Okay, kids, let's not harass Counselor Nick anymore than we have to," you hate raising your voice, but it's the only thing that's ever worked in the past. The kids are disappointed, but they scamper off just as Kaitlyn whips out the megaphone.

You get the feeling that you're no longer their favorite Counselor.

With the megaphone out, you only have a few moments before you need to disappear into your respective cabins, but Nick's wandering hands are finding your waist, bringing you in for the quickest of kisses. "You never told me your plan for tonight, love."

You'd almost forgotten about that. Had you even planned anything?

"The two stooges sneak out at eleven fifteen; we might be able to get out after they do," you offer. Quite frankly, you have no other ideas.

"Works for me," another kiss, and then you're separating, jogging to your cabins before Kaitlyn can come after you. It's happened before—you still think your left ear is ringing a bit.

Your bunk isn't much, just some tiny thing tucked into the corner. The frame is cracking, so nobody sleeps above you, and you've tucked a spare sheet around it to create some makeshift curtains. It's nice; privacy is a rarity around here. As a bonus, your bed is pushed right up against the window, granting you full, unlimited access to it. You're really glad that you left the blinds open this morning because opening those would make a lot of racket.

The kids settle in rather quickly; your cabin has learned the hard way that Kaitlyn does not mess around when it comes to bedtime. She is a woman of routine, and she has no problem reminding them who is in charge. The problem is that now, the cabin is impossibly quiet, and you have nothing to help pass the time.

Pushing open the window helps a little bit—at least now you have some fresh air. The camp is eerily quiet, forest looming behind, a monster in plain sight. You will never understand how people go camping alone. What do you do if something gets ahold of you? If something goes horribly wrong?

It feels like an hour has passed before Jacob's cabin door opens up; your watch says it's only been twenty minutes. Emma comes out next. It's clear that she does this pretty often because she makes no effort to be quiet. How Mr. H constantly fails to catch them, you'll never know.

Nick's door is the last to open. He's more cautious about it, minding the squeaky, loose stairs far better than Jacob and Emma did. He crouches next to his cabin, only scurries across camp when the two have their backs turned on their way out of camp. Unfortunately for him, he isn't graceful enough to avoid stepping on and snapping a rather loud twig.

"Did you hear that?" Good lord, why is Jacob observant now, of all times? He wasn't very observant last week when he drove the golf cart into a ditch.

Emma is dismissive, you don't hear what she says, but she's tugging on his arm and urging him on his way. From behind the central tree, Nick pokes his head out, wide-eyed and pale. You feel like you're in a spy movie when you clamber out of the window as quietly as you can manage. The way that Nick scurries over reminds you of a puppy, clumsily tripping over his own feet, just barely able to catch himself.

The loudest cowbells you've ever heard ring in the distance.

So that's what Mr. H was doing earlier. You can hear his voice in the distance, a bright white flashlight landing on the two escapees. There's no time for Nick to run back, not without getting caught himself. Nick seems to have gathered that himself because he picks up his speed and jumps, grabbing onto the railing and hoisting himself over in one fluid motion. He doesn't need to say anything, you're already climbing back through the window, and Nick is tumbling in after you.

Limbs are everywhere, you don't know where Nick starts, and you end. This bed is barely big enough for you, never mind you and Nick. He might as well be a second blanket, with the way he's sprawled out on top of you, panting in your ear.

"This isn't how I imagined this escapade turning out," he whispers, voice unintentionally sending a ripple down your spine. He must feel it because he finally squirms himself away from your ear.

Mr. H is beginning his lecture outside; you can hear it in his tone. Preaching about responsibility and putting the kids first. You'd heard enough of this at orientation.

"After all, what will the parents think?" Nick mocks with a roll of his eyes.

"If something happens to the kids, their parents won't send them back next year," you finish, much to his delight.

Nick shuffles around, rearranging your positions to put you closest to the window. Your pillow barely accommodates the two of you, but you hardly even notice it. It's hard to think of anything when Nick's all wrapped around you, legs tangled with your own, barely an inch of space between you.

His hand slips under your shirt, settling flat on the small of your back. "Isn't it silly that a lecture is what brought us together?"

It was only a month and a half ago, but it feels like it's been a millennium since that day. Framed for a mistake made by Emma, you and Nick had been subjected to an hour-long lecture and a three-day sentence to cleaning. You've been bound at the hip ever since.

"Remember the fight in the showers?" It's growing hard to think; Nick is so warm that he's putting you to sleep.

He hums, "I was convinced that you hated me."

You'd coincidentally thought the same thing. Strange how all this worked out. Nick presses a kiss into your forehead, then another one, right between your eyes—you can't help but giggle at the sensation.

"Shh," a kiss to your nose, "your giggles are going to get us caught."

"Well, nobody was bothered by the cow—," you're cut off by a pair of familiar lips, effectively shutting you up. The kiss is too short for your liking, Nick may have only intended it to be a small peck, but you didn't sneak him into your bed just for a peck.

He gasps against your mouth, effectively surprised at how you chase him down, and for an agonizing moment, he goes still. Your hand finds its way up his chest, fingers splaying out over his heart, and that's what draws him from his stupor. It's a sensation that you never want to get used to, the way you fit together, the pressure of his soft lips against yours, the strength of his arms around you.

Teeth clack together with a soft noise; your mouth opens to him, a hot tongue delving into your mouth. His tongue is rather short, can't quite reach yours unless you meet him halfway, and the muffled whine you receive makes it all the more worth it. You don't know who's melting more, can't tell who is breaking kisses to gasp for air and who is starting them again. What you do know is that it's you who moves your leg up; it's Nick who whimpers when your thigh presses into your groin.

Oh, what you wouldn't give to be in a place where you could adequately act upon your inner thoughts.

"Fuck," Nick pants, breathless, although you're not much better yourself. He shifts a bit, only making your thigh press harder into him, and you suddenly become very aware of what you're doing to him.

Drawing your lips away from his feels like the most monumental task you've ever completed; it's all you can do to stop yourself from kissing him until your lips bruise and your heads spin. You don't want to go to sleep, but you know that if you continue on, neither of you may be able to stop.

Neither of you recalls exactly who fell asleep first or when. It just happened somewhere between Nick's thumb rubbing the side of your cheek and the novelty of sharing a bed for the first time. One moment you're gazing into sleepy brown eyes; the next, Nick's watch is vibrating and stirring you both from your slumber.

"What...?" Words are difficult. Your bones are heavy; it feels like you've slept for a century and a half.

"Just my alarm," he murmurs, his voice thick with sleep.

Despite the growing need to get up and be ready before the kids, neither of you can bring yourselves to move. Nick is so warm against you, a stark contrast to the cool breeze coming in through the open window. The moment is fleeting, though, as Nick's watch reminds you of the time.

"Find me in the kitchen later," kiss, "I have something to show you." Before you know it, he's slipping out the door and scurrying back to his own cabin before Dylan can wake everyone with his announcements.

You don't get a chance to visit Nick until after lunch.

Usually, you have time in the morning, not for long but enough for a kiss on the cheek and a chat about the day's plans, but your day is going wrong in every possible way. First, two of the showers broke, and your morning shower rapidly turned into a midday one, and so, so many kids fell when on their trail hike with Ryan and Jacob. You've never seen so many scraped knees and elbows in your life.

When you do finally get to visit, Nick is... "What are you doing?"

Nick all but jumps, startled by your sudden appearance. It's short-lived because very quickly, he's grinning and waving you over to look at what he's concocting now.

"I don't get it," really, you don't. He's got what appears to be raspberries or strawberries in a strainer and a tin can underneath.

"Do you remember how Mr. H bought all that lemonade, and now we don't know what to do with it?" Whatever this is, he's excited, practically vibrating with it.

Cautious, you nod your head. You were one of the poor souls who had to carry all of it in and put it into the freezer. It's hard to forget that much lemonade.

Nick moves the strainer, revealing a bright red liquid underneath. "I made syrups," he can barely speak with how much he's smiling, "now we can have a little variety."

Where he's found the time to figure this out, you're not sure. He's handing you a glass from the fridge, already mixed with syrup and ready to go. Nick has never given you something that didn't taste amazing, and as you take your first sip, it continues to ring true. Strawberry lemonade.

"God, you look at Y/N like they hand-crafted the universe," Dylan must be coming up with these in advance—he's too quick with it.

"Hey," Nick scoffs, "you're not much better than I am."

"At least I don't give off the vibes of a golden retriever."

Speechless. That's what Nick is. Jaw slack, eyes wide as he glances at his reflection on the fridge. Now that it's been pointed out, you can't unsee it.

It falls quiet. Nick is still looking at himself in what you can only assume is horror; Dylan is getting into the granola stash, and you're so busy watching them that you don't even think to speak. Distantly, you think you can hear Emma and Jacob bickering, a familiar sound around these parts.

"Romeo and Juliet got sentenced to three days of hard labor," Dylan supplies around a mouthful of granola. Nick grimaces, and you can't tell if it's in response to the punishment or the granola.

"I can't believe Mr. H caught them with cow bells on a rope," there's a glint in Nick's eye as he speaks. "What's he got them doing?"

"Do you want to find out?" Mr. H's voice is loud, booming through the quiet little kitchen, effectively shaking you to your core. You don't realize that you've jumped and grabbed onto Nick until his arm is wrapped around you, anchoring you against him.

Emma stumbles in through the door, her cheeks red from the sun, "Y/N, can I borrow you? For...something?" Being borrowed means, you'll be busy until sundown. But you'll take anything over Mr. H staring through your very soul as if he knows all of your wrongdoings. Slipping from Nick's protective embrace, you follow her out of the building. She's got a mini play going on, but she needs extra hands, and Jacob is being particularly...Jacob, today.

"I just need someone to keep an eye on the extras and make sure they don't wander off," she tells you.

At first, you don't understand it, but then it becomes very clear that her group tends to wander. You feel like a herding dog, weaving back and forth and turning the little heathens back to the task at hand. One of the kids spills your lemonade all over the ground, and nobody owns up to it. You hadn't even gotten to drink much of it, and now your glass is completely empty.

Mr. H really doesn't pay you guys enough.

"Has Mr. H been rude to you lately, or is he just doing it to me and Jacob?" Emma asks you shortly after Ryan has come to escort the kids to dinner.

"He definitely has been sort of..." you have to stop cleaning up just to have a coherent thought. Yeah, now that she mentions it, he definitely has been teetering between pleasant and snappy lately. "Snappy? Menacing?"

"An ass?" She drops some gnome hats into her costume box, "he got mad at me and Jacob earlier just for being in the same room."

With all of the gnome gear packed away, the two of you are finally able to leave. The sun is already falling, bathing the forest in deep hues of red and orange—a true golden hour. It's comforting, a stark contrast to how menacing it can be once the sun goes down. A shiver ripples down your spine.

As you grow near the main building, Mr. H's truck tears out of the driveway, sending dirt and gravel flying up into a plume of smoke. Idle, Ryan stands stiff as a board where the truck was once parked. Even from a ways away, you can see the whites of his eyes, like a deer in headlights. When he finally does come to face you, he remains the epitome of shocked, jaw-slack, eyes distant.

"What's going on?" Emma's the first to speak.

Ryan's quiet for a moment, and then, "he's...leaving for the night?" He says it as if he doesn't quite believe what he's saying.

There's a cheer to your left. It sounds like Jacob and...

"Nick?" You're surprised to hear your own voice. He just grins, stepping out from beside Jacob to come to you.

"We're finally unsupervised!" Jacob looks like a little kid as he all but stumbles over to you, taking the box of props from your hands, "I'll take this."

With Mr. H gone, Jacob and Emma are bound at the hip again, and you get the feeling you won't be seeing them until morning. In the back of your mind, a tiny voice suggests you do the same, but your grumbling stomach has its own ideas. Nick doesn't need to say a word, taking your hand in his and walking you to the cafeteria.

Sometimes you think he'd go hungry if that meant keeping you fed.

Chili on top of spaghetti is not what you expect him to put in front of you. To be fair, he did tell you that this is what he'd be making, but it still gets you. For once, you get to sit at the Counselor's table, a luxury you don't often have these days. Nick settles next to you, absolutely enthralled with what he's made.

"Didn't you eat once already, Nick?" Kaitlyn remarks, biting into a slice of garlic bread. Nick's cheeks turn pink, all he can do is nod and stare at his empty plate.

Is he...pouting?

You choose not to bring it up with the others around, Nick's never been good at explaining what he's feeling, and teasing will only ensue if you ask. He does, however, scoot closer to you. Enough so that your thighs are pressed together, and your shoulders brush with every movement. You stay like that, listening to the conversations happening around you as you finish your food. Out of the corner of your eye, you spot Dylan heading for the stairs, bleary-eyed and half awake.

Abigail leans her elbows against the table, lowering her voice as if Dylan can somehow hear her over all the chatter. "Where does Dylan always go this time of the day?"

"Not a clue," lying straight through your teeth. He's probably curling up in your office as you speak, but that's none of your concern.

With Mr. H gone, you and the counselors have free reign over what to do for the night, and together you all decide that the best thing to do would be letting them play at the cabins until bedtime. A far easier task than herding them to the fire and back.

The routine begins. Nick takes your dishes, disappearing into the kitchen just before Kaitlyn and Abigail begin directing the kids. In the blink of an eye, you're carrying leftover dishes into the kitchen, and you're once again taking up a towel to begin the drying process.

"I'm here, I'm queer," Dylan all but bursts into the kitchen, "and I don't want to be here."

"This would be so much easier if Mr. H would actually invest in this place," Nick's critique is not without reason. It feels like half of the camp is falling apart around you. From the unfinished construction and deteriorating structures to its barely functioning equipment. Hell, the golf carts are so old that parts for them are becoming rarer by the day.

"At least he's left us for the night," you try to be positive about the situation, but there's nothing positive about a whole bunch of dirty dishes.

It's dizzying, spinning back and forth between stations so mindlessly. With no Mr. H to worry about, it goes smoothly. Nothing gets dropped, and it's looking like none of Nick's plates have gone missing, for once. The same cannot be said for the forks, which seem to have dropped in numbers since yesterday, likely at the bottom of the trashcan. None of you get paid enough to go in after them.

It's quiet outside. Far too quiet, actually. Usually, you can at least hear the kids playing or a counselor talking a touch too loud, but all you hear tonight are crickets. Nick must be picking up on it, too because he's squeezing your hand a bit tighter than usual, and he's not torn his eyes away from the path.

Darkness has already fallen, casting a blanket of black and blues upon the forest. A full moon hangs in the sky, acting as the only light to guide you through the poorly-lit trail. The cabins are deserted, with not a child in sight.

"Can you believe it?" Kaitlyn's sudden appearance startles you. "We got everyone in bed without a singular thing going wrong."

"Gee, did you threaten them, or did they do that naturally?" Dylan barely dodges the swift kick that comes for his shins. You don't think he'd even have shins anymore if Kaitlyn's legs were any longer.

"It just required a werewolf story," you hadn't even seen Ryan sitting on the cabin steps. Had he been there the whole time? "Kaitlyn called for bedtime, and they scattered like roaches."

Abigail giggles next to him. "You should have seen them, scurrying to their cabins like a werewolf was after them."

As conversation blossoms, Nick lightly tugs at your hand, eyes darting from you to the beaten path leading to the ziplines. Well, here's your chance to finally go through with that plan. You move slowly, at first, feet treading lightly as you depart from your group. If anybody notices, they don't mention it.

Then, Nick's picking up the pace, and you're all out running, wrapped in a fit of giggles as you sprint hand in hand to the ziplines. Finally, finally, you have each other all to yourselves, with absolutely no one around to impose. The forest is dark and Lord only knows what's lurking in the shadows, but the path feels like it's lit up like a Christmas tree. Absolutely nothing can come between you, Nick, and the open trail ahead of you.

"Do you think they know we're gone?" Nick pants, just as the ziplines appear in your line of sight.

You're already stumbling to a slow walk, lungs burning, out of breath for all the wrong reasons. Nick's long strides are hard to keep up with. "Let's just hope they don't come looking for us."

The ziplines aren't as nice as the boathouse is. It used to be illuminated by a singular fluorescent lamp post, but the bulb has since gone out, and Mr. H refuses to buy "unnecessary lights." The stairs are a different monster in of itself. Old wooden boards creak menacingly beneath your feet, seemingly growing louder with every step you take.

"Y/N."

"Did you say something?" You turn to look up at Nick, who just cocks his head to the side like a confused puppy.

"Nope," he blinks, "at least...I don't think I did?"

It happens again, at the bottom of the stairs. A faint whisper of your name, fleeting, dancing around your ear just long enough for you to become convinced that you didn't make it up.

"Did you say my name?"

"Baby, I haven't said a word since the last time you thought I said something."

You're not sure if you buy it or not, but Nick is tugging you into his chest, wrapping you into the sweetest of hugs—tight, just enough to remind you that you're safe. He's got you. You're safe here. He sways you back and forth, the motion shaking all of the worries from your head and filling the space with nothing but Nick. Nick and his heart that you can feel pitter-pattering against your ear. The way his fingertips trace invisible shapes into your spine, the way his cologne meets your nose, a faint mixture of vanilla and coconut that's just barely there.

"It's just the forest playing tricks on you," he murmurs into your ear, chin heavy on your shoulder, "I've got you."

You only unwrap from each other to go and sit at the end of the dock, feet dangling off the edge. Nick's feet just barely avoid touching the water; any wrong move and you're afraid he may end up with wet feet.

"I think this is the first time we've ever truly been by ourselves," yawning, he leans over to rest his head against yours, "as strange as that is to say."

"Do you think we'll get more moments like this before summer ends?" You hadn't intended to ask that yet, but it tumbles out of your mouth anyway.

Nick hums, the noise sending a quiver down your spine. "I like to think that we will," soft lips press a kiss to the skin just before your ear, "maybe after we leave, we can have a night to ourselves at that one hotel in town."

"Harvester?"

"Harabinger?"

It starts with an H; that's all you can recall. It's hard to think with Nick's nose pressed against your cheek, hot breath fanning out against your sensitive skin. An unknown voice calls your name from across the shore; you know you heard it this time. Yet you pay it no mind—distracted by the kisses trailing across your cheek and the sparkling brown eyes that could drown you if you gazed into them for too long.

His lips meet yours, a gentle, unmistakable pressure that you've come to know so well over these past weeks. He breaks it, then comes back, once, twice, thrice. You don't have time to consider pulling him into something that isn't just a few teasing pecks; he does it all for you. It's soft at first, just a simple caress, and then he deepens it in a way that has your head spinning.

His arm is circling you, drawing you closer until there's no space between you, and that's still not enough. Even as his tongue licks into your mouth, testing the waters, he's still not close enough, won't be until there isn't an ounce of space left between your tired bodies. It's that feeling that guides you to breaking the kiss—you can barely manage it, especially not when Nick whines and attempts to chase you down— to swing yourself over and straddle his lap.

His surprise is heard only through a small gasp. It's short-lived, his arms circling your waist, gathering you against him. Your arms are draping around his neck, and then you're kissing him again. He's all you can think of, senses clouded with Nick, Nick, Nick. You can feel him now, pressed against you between your legs, and it's all you can do not to take advantage of that face.

"You do such crazy things to me," his accent is thick as he mumbles against your lips, breathing heavily.

He falls backward, taking you with him as his back hits the rotting wood of the dock with a soft thump. Then he's kissing you again, insistent mouth parting your lips, hot tongue meeting yours for a fleeting second. An unfamiliar heat blossoms in your core, a dancing flame that threatens to grow into a wildfire at the drop of a hat. Nicks's hands are everywhere, tracing up your spine, cupping your cheeks. All the while, he's humming against your lips, a small noise that you've rarely heard him make.

Your head is spinning too much for you to focus, leaves you no option but to break away and gasp for the sweet, sweet oxygen that fills your stinging lungs. Nick looks so pretty underneath of you, hair splayed out on the wood beneath him, swollen lips, and glistening eyes illuminated by the light of the moon. It's hard to stop. Even with how dizzy you've become, you can't resist leaning back in to kiss down his neck, tongue soothing over every spot you come across.

"Shit," Nick gasps, "wait."

Just like that, you've frozen in place. "Is something wrong?"

He shakes his head, fingers catching your chin to guide you back up to him for a sweet peck. "Not here," his voice is trembling, unable to get above a whisper, "I want to make it perfect for you."

You're rolling your eyes before you can stop yourself. "It's perfect right now."

"Baby, if I have you now, I'm not sure if I'll be able to keep myself off of you for another month."

He says it so seriously that you can't help but giggle. "You have a point."

Breathless, you settle down on top of him, your ear against his chest, listening to his heartbeat and his arms intertwined around you like a vice. Time has stopped; the only thing in this world moving are your two heaving chests. For just a moment, you close your eyes and just breathe.

You awake to a strange sensation. Nick's there; you can feel him against you, but your legs are swaying in such an unnatural way, and his heartbeat is no longer as loud.

"Are you carrying me?" It's a dumb question. As soon as you open your eyes, you're met with a sleepy-eyed Nick and the dark cabins looming directly ahead of you.

"I was trying not to wake you," he frowns, kissing your forehead. "What kind of boyfriend would I be if I didn't at least try to carry you to bed."

You grumble, burying your nose into his shirt. There's a weight in your chest that grows heavier the closer you get to the cabins. You really should get to bed, but even as Nick stands at your door, you can't bring yourself to get down. Nick's too warm to let go of.

"Baby?"

"Hm?"

"We're at your door."

"I know." You still make no effort to get down, only clinging tighter.

Nick chuckles, low and heavy in his chest. "Is this your way of saying you don't want me to go?"

Nod.

If Kaitlyn is awake, she doesn't say anything when Nick opens the door and steps inside. Only when he sits you on the bed, do you let go of him, just long enough to kick your shoes off and crawl under the covers. Nick is quick to follow after you, wrapping around you like a blanket.

Yeah, you could get used to this.

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