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familyvideostevie · 3 months

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a kind of hunger | chapter 2

joel miller x fem!reader

series masterlist

an offer from your employer sets your life on track and throws it into a new kind of chaos at the same time. where does joel miller fit into it all?

length: 5.9k

Warnings: 18+ smut, fem!reader, unspecified age gap, heavy petting, joel having a moment with r's tits, hand stuff, dirty talk, painful sex for a second, riding (p in v sex), like a really small smidge of breeding kink, emotional turmoil from r cause what else is she gonna do, some plot! wow! a/n: finally! another chapter. it’s short but i think we’re getting somewhere. Let me know what you think! huge thank you to @macfrog for your eyes and for keeping my sanity in check and @bageldaddy for teaching me how to use commas, letting me borrow your bar, and telling me to just “slutty hallmark it.” this is for you guys.

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Bill’s offer costs you one night of sleep and that’s all.

Taking over the bar goes against every rule you've had for yourself up until now, everything that’s kept you going and on your feet.

You lose when you stick around. You get hurt when you get attached. Always keep moving.

But your night with Joel seems to have shaken something loose. You’ve got a pit in your stomach, a hunger set alight by his eyes and his hands and his attention. It’s like he reminded you how to want, how to stop letting the world turn under your feet and dig in your heels instead.

And there’s what Bill said, the thing that won't leave you alone. You think no one notices, but I notice. We all notice.

It’s easy to lie to yourself about a lot of things: that you don’t mind this life, its constant movement and instability. That it’s made you crafty. That if you picked up and left right now, you’d be fine. No one would miss you, no one would notice. The names and faces you’ve learned would fade as soon as you found new ones somewhere else.

You’ve been a tight fist your whole life, only hanging onto what can fit into your rough and weathered palm, half-moon crescents bleeding that damn desperate hope you can never seem to scrub off. It means a whole lot of avoiding things that could matter so you can’t lose them, can’t let them slip through your fingers. A family who saw your need for space and control and turned it into isolation and disinterest, who drove you away as soon as you were able to leave. College was a bust. Relationships gone sour have taught you not to rely on anyone. Failed experiment after failed experiment, just looking for something to stick. It’s better to be alone, right?

That tight fist keeps anyone out, anyway. It’s carefully rolled bills in plastic bags in the toe of a pair of sneakers just in case. It’s talking just enough to get you a place to stay, a job, a ride, but not enough that anyone remembers your face, even if you wish they would.

It’s not one big thing. It’s a million small ones. And nothing ever lasts. You never last; always cutting and running before it can get real, before they can see the truth of you and find it lacking.

You’ve been looking for the missing piece for years now, the thing that will make you feel like you’ve finally made it somewhere where you’re needed enough to stick around. Where you can stop quitting, where you can put down roots. Where you can be wanted.

You just aren’t sure it’s possible. You’ve done so many things, seen so much, that you feel like it’s too late to be anything other than this.

It’s easy to believe all of that until someone like Joel sees through it – until someone like Bill tells you none of it is true.

Fuck it.

You call Bill the next morning and tell him you'll take over Frank's.

According to him, the turnaround will be quick. He'll have someone "official" draw up the paperwork. You tell him you won't change the name. You tell him you will make some repairs, fix the cracked vinyl booths, and give the floors a refinish, and –

"Do whatever the fuck you want," he grumbles over the phone. "It's your bar."

It sure is.

You own something, now. You belong somewhere – even if it’s just because you have payslips to sign and counters to clean. But maybe this time, if you try hard enough, you can get it right.

You have a meeting to tell the staff that you’re taking over. There are only five of you – two college kids from a town over, the guy who works part-time at the garage by the highway, and an old butch called Pat you find vaguely frightening who’s been working here longer than you care to ask.

It’s probably the first time all five of you have been in the same room. None of them seem disappointed in Bill’s retirement, and they’re on board with your plan for renovations. Especially after you assure them they’ll be paid even if you close for a bit to get it all done.

Joel doesn't come in. You notice, but don’t spare it too much thought. You can’t because the bar is a fucking nightmare all week.

The keg lines keep blocking, the jukebox dies a sudden staticky death, and some asshole scratches the pool table hard enough to tear up the felt. Everyone and everything is pissing you off. It’s an effort not to spend all of your breaks on that milk crate in the alley with your head in your hands.

It feels like Frank’s is hazing you. After all you’ve done for it, you feel a little betrayed.

“Why the hell do you think I’m retiring?” Bill says when you call to bitch about it. “This shit is a fuck ton of work.”

By Friday, you're at your wit's end.

The rush has come and gone, and now it’s slow. Slow enough that you might be worried, but Pat has told you before that this is just how it is in small towns, sometimes.

That, or maybe your bad mood scared everyone off. Maybe they're tired of the shitty atmosphere, of the cloudy glasses and squeaking stools, maybe they –

You pop an olive into your mouth.

“Chill the fuck out,” you mutter to yourself. No one is around to hear.

The only patrons left are some bikers at one of the back tables playing cards. Their laughter is too loud without the music going. The mats behind the bar are sticky under your boots, and your temple has started to throb. You feel like locking yourself in the office just for the silence.

The air shifts when Joel steps inside.

The hunger you feel is a familiar fire, coals that stoke themselves and never go out. Lust, infatuation as you take in his broad shoulders and grey-streaked hair. You’re strung out and a fuck might help.

But there’s also a weight in your chest at the sight of him, one you haven’t felt in a while. It sits heavy above that smoldering flame in your belly, a bruise you can’t stop yourself from pressing on.

Maybe part of you expected him to stop coming in after you fucked. Regardless of how it made you feel, you’re just some woman who serves him two fingers of liquor when he wants to run away from his life. Just someone who gave him one good night and nothing more.

But this weight – this big, thorny emotion that looks like affection and attachment and something real – you don’t know what to do with it.

It’s never been this way with a one-night stand. Yeah, you know the weight of him above you, inside you. You know the taste of his sweat on your tongue, the feel of his head between your thighs. That kind of shit usually doesn’t change anything with you, but Joel is…different.

Careful, that voice inside you says.

Joel peels off his jacket and tosses it on the otherwise empty bar, pushing up his sleeves to reveal his tanned forearms. The stool creaks under him and his gaze is heated as it travels over you. He doesn’t bother to hide the fact that he’s looking.

He shakes his head when you hold up the bottle of whiskey.

"Water's fine," he says.

You blink. If he’s not here to drink then what is he here for?

He seems like he always does. Relaxed, like the room was made to have him in it. But you look a little closer, now that you figure you can. The deep scar on the bridge of his nose stands out and his cheeks are a little pink. The temperature must have dropped once the sun went down. His jaw isn’t tense so much as set, determined. He rubs his chin with a flat palm as you fill a glass using the soda gun.

“Whatever you want,” you say.

He looks around the bar. You figure he's taking in the out-of-order signs on the beer pulls, the flickering light pointing to the restroom, maybe even the goddamn ruined pool table.

You pick up a rag and start to clean to keep your hands busy.

“Quiet for a Friday,” he says. "Things goin’ alright?”

You bristle at the implication. It’s been a shitty week, and you don’t need anyone reminding you that you’re probably not cut out for this.

“Fucking peachy,” you snap.

Joel raises an eyebrow, but doesn’t rise to it. "Seems like things are a little tense.”

You swallow a flash of genuine annoyance.

"All it takes is a roll in the sack and now you're a talker?"

Joel isn't phased. He takes a small sip of his drink, rolls the glass between his hands. Nice hands, you think. Hands that felt so good between your --

"Just makin’ conversation," he says lightly.

You’ve always thought you were hard to read – hell, you’ve been told that many times. One of your flaws, people always say, but it makes it easier to slide in and out of places without too much damage. And yet, Joel, a man who has been in your bed once and sits at your bar when it suits him, sees right through you.

Your shoulders slump.

“I’m just tired,” you tell him.

Joel rubs his beard with one wide palm. He moves his jaw back and forth like he's giving you the chance to shut him down, like he’s chewing on the silence.

"Heard somethin'," he says. "Wondered if it was true. Thought I'd ask."

"Are you asking?"

He eyes you, takes another sip of his water like it's a tumbler of amber liquid instead. Like anything you pour him is something to be savored.

"Guess so."

You set the glass down and put your hands on the wood, leaning towards him with your head cocked.

“Are you keeping tabs on me, Joel Miller?”

“Nah,” he says, eyes flashing before they slide down to your lips. “Ran into Frank in the frozen aisle at the store.”

“And what does that have to do with me?”

The corner of his mouth tugs up. "Known him and Bill a long time."

That explains why he looks like he belongs here. He's probably been in this room more times than you have. All of the things you don't know about Joel hang in the air between you.

"Does Bill...?"

Does your buddy know you fucked me in the apartment I rent from him?

Joel shakes his head. "Frank told me Bill was giving the place to one of his employees. Figured it was you."

And that’s that. But it sounds like a compliment.

“Well, it’s me alright,” you sigh, slumping a bit. “And there's a lot of shit to do.”

Joel puts a hand on your forearm. It's a light touch, a quick one, but it sends sparks along your skin. A moth to a flame.

“Ain’t no small thing. Ownin’ a bar. Big deal, if you ask me.”

You roll your eyes but pride swells in your chest. He’s right. It is a big deal.

And here you are in your bar.

With Joel, who fits into all of this somehow. You just don’t know where yet.

“Yeah, well, I didn’t ask you,” you say with a smirk.

You want to draw it out of him, make him flirt with you for the answers he seems to want. You want something to sink your teeth into after this week, something to play with.

Something to make you feel in control. And that’s what Joel gave you, last time you saw him. He pushed when you pulled, met your touches and your quips with attitude and hands of his own. You felt alive, you felt present. You felt wanted. And it was fun.

If you’re not careful, you might forget what sex was like without that – his attention, his touch. Your name in his mouth. But now that you’re giving staying here a shot, maybe it’s time to indulge. To reach out and take.

Joel snorts. He leans forward and raps his knuckles on the wood. “Should we toast to it?”

You laugh. “I don’t drink on the job.”

He raises his water glass.

“Alright,” you scoff. “Fine.”

You pour yourself some water and clink your glasses together. Joel’s eyes never leave yours, not when he takes a long sip, not when he sets the glass down. He keeps looking at you with that heavy, unshakable gaze.

It’s unnerving, the way he makes you feel. You’re still tired, still annoyed, but there's electricity at the base of your spine, the embers in your belly. You want to talk to him.

You clench your hands around your glass. You want to touch him, too.

“So,” you say. He’s wearing a henley this time, the buttons at the top undone just enough to give you a glimpse of a peak of chest hair. You swallow and flick your eyes back to his. He’s smirking.

“So,” Joel echoes. “Why’d you take it? The bar.”

You shrug. “Seemed like a good deal.”

“Bill ain’t in the habit of good deals,” he huffs. “He must like you.”

It’s an effort to squash your smile. “I don’t think Bill likes anyone much.”

“Real asshole, ain’t he?”

That gets a laugh out of you. “Well, he’s your friend.”

“Not much choice in a small town.”

You hum.

The noisy group from the back stumble their way to the door, waving at you as they file out into the night.

“Those idiots ruined my pool table on Tuesday,” you hiss, though you smile at them.

“Gotta be pretty fuckin’ bad at pool to do that.” He looks around and realizes he’s the last one in the bar. “You closin’?”

“It’s only eleven, Joel.”

His eyes rake up and down your body. Is he thinking about how he touched you, how you fell apart under him? Heat curls lazily in your belly. He runs his finger around the rim of his glass.

“Damn shame,” he says.

Normally you wouldn’t shut for a few hours, but it’s pretty dead for a Friday and…

And Joel is looking at you like that and you want to touch him.

You don’t mess around with regulars.

You’re already breaking your rules by taking over Frank’s. What’s one more?

The pulse between your legs agrees with you.

“Colin,” you call over your shoulder, stepping back from Joel’s hot gaze. The barback appears immediately.

“Yeah?”

“I’m shutting early. Go home. Tonight’s tips are yours.”

He sputters. “Are you sure?” His gaze flicks to the stacks of glasses behind the bar, the tables that still need wiping down.

“I’ll take care of it. See you next week.”

He just shrugs and turns on his heel. A minute later the back door slams and you know the kid is gone.

You lift the bridge and slide out from behind the bar. Your boots are loud on the shitty floors with no one in here and each step to the door feels longer than it should because of his damn stare. You feel Joel’s eyes on you as you lock the door and flick off the neon BAR sign that hangs outside.

When you turn around, his eyes are dark.

Joel stays on his stool, one foot on the ground so that his knees are spread wide, watching you. One hand rests on his thigh, thick fingers tapping to a tune only he hears. His other arm is on the wood of the bar, stretching his shirt across his broad chest.

When Joel looks at you, sometimes it feels like he’s the first person to ever see you.

“Gotta settle up,” he drawls.

“What, you gonna tip me for water?”

“Not exactly,” he says, words dragging in his mouth. “Got somethin’ else in mind.”

The air in the bar sparks and crackles like one of those long Texas summer days when a thunderstorm looms like a threat. The electricity of it crackles down your spine, turns it molten, turns you dangerous. It’s never felt like this before with someone you’ve slept with. Just being close to him is enough to kick your pulse into gear. You feel hyper aware of every part of your body as he looks at you like you’re offering him something better than what you can pour.

Which, you guess, you are.

“And what would that be?”

He hums.

“C’mere.”

You can see his cock straining against the front of his jeans.

“Bossy,” you say. “That for me?” You jerk your chin towards his lap and take your time walking back to him.

He smirks. “You wanna go upstairs?”

As soon as you step between his knees, the hand on his leg moves to your hip. Two fingers sneak under the waistband of your jeans to find bare skin. You brace yourself with one palm on his thigh, another on his neck, and thread his soft hair through your fingers.

“I don’t see why we have to,” you say slowly, watching him carefully. “No one’s here. And I know the owner. She won’t mind.”

The hand on your hip slides further back and his fingers press hard into the swell of your ass.

“Oh, that right?” he chuckles. “Well, as long as we ain’t breakin’ any rules.”

You’re not sure who moves first. You’ve got a few inches on him by being on your feet so you pull him towards you just as he surges up and your mouths meet sloppily, hungrily. Joel tugs you closer and you dig your fingers into his thigh as he swallows your giddy laugh, his beard scratching your skin deliciously.

You’re going to fuck him. In your bar.

“Somethin’ funny?” he asks, lips trailing over your jaw. He’s got both hands on you now, one on your ass and the other on your hip, holding you like he expects you to disappear.

“No, not really–” You cut yourself off with a gasp when he nips your pulse point. “Joel.”

He kisses you again, licking into your mouth. You remember the sounds he made in your apartment and tug on his hair. Joel’s moan is your reward. You press close and grind your hips against the hardness in his jeans and he growls.

“Hard as a rock the second I step in this damn place,” he says, holding you there. You pull back to see his lips spit-slick, his pupils blown. Seeing him undone like this by your touch is just as thrilling as it was last time. His teeth scrape down your neck and he unbuttons your jeans.

“Sounds like a – ah – you problem.”

Joel’s fingers drag through the curls above your cunt before he goes where you really want him. You gasp against his temple when he circles your clit.

“Seems to me I’m not the only one,” he rasps.

The fingertips on his thigh become nails digging in even harder when he slips one finger inside you.

“Gonna leave bruises, sweetheart,” Joel says. Your cunt clenches around him. “You like that? Markin’ me?”

“Maybe I do,” you groan. “You left some last time.”

The angle can’t be ideal but Joel fucks you as best as he can with one finger, then two. You drag his face back to yours and suck on his bottom lip, tugging his hair all the while. Every part of you feels like it’s on fire, like you’re burning up from the inside.

His other hand rucks up your shirt until you tug it all the way off. He pulls down the cup of your bra with one hand and rolls your nipple between his fingers.

You could come like this, Joel’s hands everywhere.

Gripping him through his clothes isn’t enough. You scramble to undo his belt and get your hand in his jeans, button popped and fly down.

He grunts your name when you spit into your palm and take him in hand, velvety soft and tip leaking.

“Careful,” he hisses. “Don’t want to stop this before it starts.”

“I’ll be gentle,” you say. He thumbs your clit in response and you gasp.

Time blurs with his fingers inside you. Your strokes are lazy but he hisses each time you drag your thumb over his tip. Is it going to be this, you two pawing at each other against the bar until someone bursts?

“Joel,” you gasp. “Joel, I want –”

He finally returns to your clit with a strained smirk. The veins in his neck are visible, telling you it’s getting to him, too.

“You remember what I said last time?”

Ask for what you want, you hear me? You ask and I'll do my damn best.

You could have him bend you over the bar. You imagine it, quick and dirty, the wood digging into your waist as he slams into you, flesh on flesh. It would be better than last time, you know it. But you want to see him.

You want Joel’s face in your neck, your hands in his hair as he fills you up. You want to watch him fall apart under you.

You dig your nails into him again and he hisses. You lean forward so your lips drag along the shell of his ear.

“I want to ride you, Joel,” you say.

His eyes flash. He kisses you hard, swirls your clit one more time, and pulls his hand from your cunt. Your knees feel a little weak so you keep your hands on his shoulders.

Joel brings his fingers to his mouth and licks them clean.

“Gotta get at least a taste,” he says. “Just as sweet as I remember.” You surge forward to kiss him. You can taste yourself on his tongue and he groans into your mouth.

“Alright, baby,” he says, breath a little ragged. He thumbs your nipple again. “Where’re you gonna ride me?”

“Booth,” you manage. “Over there.” You jerk your head back towards the cracked vinyl seats he’s never once sat in since you met him. He pats your hips and you step back. The stool scrapes loudly on the floor as he stands.

He cups your cheek with one callused palm and just looks. His hair is a mess from your hands, lips swollen from your kisses. And yet he’s looking at you like you’re the answer to all his problems.

“So damn pretty,” he says.

Somehow you make it to the booth, a tangle of lips and hands, shedding pieces of clothing as you go. Your bra, his shirt, his belt. Shoes toed off and left in a pile, Joel shoves the table between the vinyl benches to the other side so there’s enough room for him to sit, for him to drag down his jeans and boxers and take his cock in one hand.

Your mouth waters at the sight of it. God, he’s thicker than you remember. One of these days you’re going to take him apart with your tongue.

You could just stand there and admire him but you’re so wet you think you’re going to drip onto the floor. His solid thighs, the dark hair gathered into curls at the base of him trailing up to his navel. If you were a painter you’d put him to a canvas.

Joel spreads his legs wide, and you run a hand down his bare chest before balancing on his shoulder as you step out of your bottoms. It’s almost funny – the two of you naked but for your socks, Joel’s pants around his ankles.

You want him too badly to spare a thought for laughter.

A condom comes from somewhere – his wallet, maybe, or his pocket, you don’t much care – and he slides it on with a hiss.

It’s different than last time. More desperate but in a fun way – and you know this won’t be the last time. You know each other’s bodies, now, and this can be quick, can be dirty, because you’ll be doing it again.

So you don’t waste any time straddling him. Joel lines his cock up with your entrance, his other hand on your hip.

“You ready?” he asks. You lean in to kiss him and sink down at the same time in response.

You moan in tandem as he fills you, the angle different from when you were on your back, so different. The stretch is deeper, and somehow you feel fuller than last time. It’s overwhelming, it’s all-consuming, it’s a little painful.

“Fuck,” Joel groans. “So tight. I ain’t gonna last long.”

It really is a tight fit, so tight you think maybe he was right to ask if you could take him without at least one orgasm to prepare you. The girth of him is splitting you in half, stretching you so much you whimper against his mouth.

Joel’s hands cup your face. “Y’okay?” he says, strained. “Hey, talk to me.”

Your eyes are shut tight, knees pressing hard into his solid thighs as you breathe.

“Need a sec,” you say. “It’s different like this, it’s –”

“I know, baby,” Joel murmurs. “Doin’ so good so far.”

He shifts his hold on you just a little and you whine. The vinyl cracks underneath his shifted weight as he whispers an apology into your shoulder.

The pain of the stretch dulls to an ache and you know what’s just on the other side. You roll your hips and the head of his cock presses exactly where you want it. It sends a shock wave of pleasure through you so intense that you fall forward a little, Joel’s face pressed to your chest.

He presses a kiss to your breastbone, so light you almost miss it as you start to ride him in earnest. Your knees press into the rough vinyl and Joel’s lips find your nipple.

“Didn’t give these ‘nough attention last time,” he says. “My mistake.”

His tongue laves at your breasts, one after the other as you swirl your hips over and over. You tug on his hair as your thighs start to burn but you keep going.

Joel’s teeth scrape against your nipples, the skin of your chest as he nips and soothes, nips and soothes. You’re going to be covered in marks tomorrow.

Maybe it’s the thrill of that, of just seeing him again, maybe it’s how bad you want him, who fucking knows – you’re already so close.

Everything fades away but this. Joel is everywhere, on you, around you, inside you…It’s just the two of you, limbs tangled and sweaty, panting each other’s name.

The smoldering in your belly is a fire climbing higher and higher and you’re going to explode with the heat of it.

Firm, rough-skinned hands hold you steady as you lift and sink, gasping every time he hits that spot inside you.

“Joel, I –”

His grip turns bruising as he starts to fuck you on his own, the wet smack of his balls filling the bar.

“I know, baby,” he pants. “I know. You hear that? You hear me fuckin’ you? You’re takin’ my cock so good.”

You plant your hands on his shoulders and try to meet his thrusts.

“Swear I dreamed ‘bout this,” he growls. “How wet you were. Those fuckin’ noises you make when I –” He circles your clit with his thumb and you keen. “There we go. Just like that.”

“Joel –

“Gonna ruin this booth,” he says with a rough chuckle. His forehead is tacky when you press yours against it.

“I – fuck – need new ones anyway, don’t I?”

Joel grins, all teeth as he pounds into you.

“C’mon, sweetheart,” he says, breath hot on your lips. “Soak my cock. Know you can, so tight and –”

Your orgasm rips through you, a broken litany of Joel and yes and god knows what else torn from your throat as he fucks you through it. His thrusts become erratic and you try to keep your seat as he finishes with a deep groan.

Joel presses more of those light kisses to your collarbones, the base of your throat, so like the one he left on the back of your hand that first night. You drag your fingers through his slightly sweaty hair.

“I’ll move in a second,” you say, catching your breath.

“Take your time,” he says. “I ain’t goin’ anywhere.”

His grip on you is practically gentle, fingers lazily stroking patterns into your skin. You drag a hand up and down his chest.

It’s tender. It’s…something it maybe shouldn’t be. Something that doesn’t belong in whatever you’re doing.

You get out of his lap as carefully as you can and stand in front of him, naked. Fucking with a condom is smart and all, but you wonder what it would feel like to have him dripping between your thighs.

He doesn’t hide his stare, though it’s not as charged as before. He’s looking just to look.

“Put your pants on,” you grumble at him. He laughs.

You scoop your clothes off the floor and head for the bathroom. The tarnished mirror displays your sated smile and bright eyes. You run a hand over the bruises he left on your neck, your hips. Well-fucked is a good look on you. You look exhausted but happy.

Joel is dressed and back at the tabletop when you return. He’s got his usual bottle of whiskey on the wood, two glasses already sporting a pour each.

“Not workin’ anymore, are you?” he asks you.

You laugh. “No.”

The soreness starts to settle into your thighs when you take the stool next to him.

The momentary silence isn’t uncomfortable. It is comfortable, which is the strange part. Sitting here with him at your bar after he fucked you a few feet away and sipping at your drinks.

Joel, for his part, seems unbothered. You can’t figure him out. It makes you feel a little unsteady to know that he sees right through you, but you don’t know what he’s thinking. Would he tell you if you asked?

“So,” he says. “What’re your plans for the place?”

You sigh. A piece of his hair is sticking up and you tuck your hand between your thighs so you don’t smooth it. It’s different with your clothes on.

“There’s a lot to do,” you tell him. “Jukebox is broken. Neon signs need replacing. Plumbing could do with a refresh. I want to refinish the floors, maybe tear off this ugly wallpaper –”

“Make sure you get a good gel for that,” he says. “Shit’s old and won’t come off easy.”

You lean your chin in your hand and shoot him an amused look.

“Do a lot of wallpaper removal in your spare time?” you ask.

He fiddles with his watch, jaw working around whatever it is he wants to say.

“I’m a contractor.”

“Really?”

“Don’t sound so surprised,” he grumbles. “You think I sit on my ass all day?”

Honestly, you don’t know. Most of the thoughts you have about Joel aren’t to do with his job. You have no idea what he does when he isn’t here.

You shrug. Joel rolls his eyes.

“Well, I am,” he drawls. He takes a long sip of his whiskey. “And I know the folks around here who you’ll need. Materials, all that.”

“Are you offering to help me, Joel?” You keep your voice neutral.

He looks at you head-on. It feels like he’s seeing through you again. “If you want it.”

“If we do that, it has nothing to do with…” You gesture between you. “With this.”

Joel just looks at you, letting you sort out what you want to say.

“I mean, I don’t want charity, okay?”

He shakes his head. “Ain’t charity. I owe Bill some favors. This’ll square us up. You’ll cover all the other shit, I guess.”

“It’s not his bar, anymore,” you remind him, but it’s a weak protest.

Joel knocks back the rest of his drink.

You’ve been working out how to finance the renovations all week. All that cash you’ve squirreled away over the years finally has a purpose, other than a cushion in case something really bad happens. It’s looking tight between paying the staff and sourcing the work. You’d only be able to close a week at a time and any delays will fuck the whole thing.

But if Joel��s offering discounted labor, materials on the cheap? You could get it all done faster, get it done right.

“Why do you want to help me?” you ask.

Joel huffs and if you knew him better you’d say it was in offense.

“Let’s just say I’m invested in the state of this place,” he says. “And you really gotta replace those booths.”

Your face feels hot. “Asshole.”

“So,” he says. “You interested?”

It’s not a bad idea. Hell, it might even be a good one. Money aside, Joel, whatever his story is, is connected in this town, and if you’re staying it would do you some good to start making some connections of your own. Start settling.

The fist in your chest, your heart, your mind – it loosens just a little bit.

“I’m interested.”

Joel knocks on the bar once, twice, and stands. He digs in his back pocket for his wallet and hands you a business card with his phone number.

“I’ll be here Monday morning,” he says. “We can start goin’ over stuff, figure out when you wanna close. All that. Call me anytime. Sound good?”

You just nod. The fatigue is starting to hit and Joel must be able to tell because he just smiles at you.

“Goodnight, boss lady,” he says. “Put the whiskey on my tab.”

Joel grabs his jacket and unlocks the door, sliding into the cool night with a wave.

“You don’t have a tab, asshole,” you mutter, but you’re smiling a little.

It feels like pieces are falling into place.

You know you could get the bar fixed up on your own. But with Joel’s help, it’ll get done faster and you might even have some money left over at the end of it.

It’s a lot all at once. But for some reason, it feels different this time. It’s not another job about to fall through, not another relationship going south because you got spooked. It’s not you getting bored and cutting your losses.

You want this. You want it to work. Usually, you’d have left by now, before you got too attached, but it’s too late so you’re going to make it work.

This thing with Joel, though – you’re going to have to be careful. If you’re not, it’ll run away from you and – well. You don’t want to lose control of it.

You look around the bar and sigh. Unwiped tables, a booth that no one should sit in, floors to clean. A few hours of work before bed.

You know you’re going to spend them trying not to think about the man who just left.

thank you for reading <3 reblog, send feedback!

#joel miller x reader #joel miller smut #joel miller x you #joel miller x y/n #joel miller fanfiction

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cloudyzeusy · 6 months

Text

He's not gay? ||

pairing: katsuki bakugou X top reader

warnings: afab, creampie

"Let's go around in a circle and say your sexuality." Mina exclaimed excitedly.

Everyone went around till the last people were me and Katsuki left. "I'm bi." I said nonchalantly.

We all turned to Katsuki and he huffed. "I'm straight."

"Your straight?" I questioned.

"Tch yeah what about it." He scoffed glaring at me.

"I just don't believe you." The rest of class 1A looked between us confused at what was going on

"Well extra don't care what you think." He said gritting his teeth he stormed away to his dorm i made a mental note to go after him.

I stayed with the others and we played games and watched a movie before we all decided it was time to go. But I didn't go back to my dorm I went too Katsuki's I'm surprised to see his door was opened I went in and I saw him in just shorts and a hoodie lying on his bed.

"(name) what are you doing here." He said surprised and wary of me

"You said you were straight right?" I grinned ignoring his question.

"y-yeah."

"So you are saying i didn't see you on grindr nor did i see that secret stash of lingerie and skirts you've got." He had no response to that and just fidgeted in his spot.

He watched me carefully as moved closer to him nervous about what i would do next. I sat on his bed and grabbed him putting him on my lap I lifted up his shirt feeling his bare skin underneath

"Wait (name) what are you doing." He said apphrensively trying to stop my wandering hands with his smaller on

"If you don't like this then tell me no and I'll stop right now." He stayed quiet so I took that as the confirmation i needed and tweaked his nipples making him moan out loud in suprise. His ears reddened at the embarrassment at his noise.

"If you are straight you have no problem letting me fuck you right here and after if you are still straight... I'll leave you alone forever." I smirked.

"Fine it won't matter because I'm straight." He said confidently but i knew he wouldnt feel the same tomorrow.

"Bet just a heads up don't be suprised when you can't walk tomorrow."

I then turned him over so he was lying on his back facing me i took off his hoodie and his shorts i could tell he felt humiliated as he was naked and I was fully dressed. I was shocked at what laid underneath his clothes this whole time.

"Kats you have a pussy!."

He flushed red "If you have a problem with that leave ." He said getting up.

I pushed him back down and reaffirmed him "No I was just shocked it doesn't matter to me, now wheres the lube." He pointed to his draw and I got out the lube

I squirted some of my fingers I'm inserted one i let him get used to it before inserting two more and began finger fucking him. I could tell he was starting to get close so I removed them he whined at that. Making me smirk "I thought you said you were straight yet you are acting like a hungry slut." I could tell he was about to say something so I shushed him and unzipped my trousers.

He looked on in shock as he saw what laid beneath. "(name)! theres no way thats going to fit!." He stuttered gaze stuck on my cock.

I slowly jerked myself off while waiting for him to calm down when i saw he was ready i slowly entered myself into him. He cursed from the sudden pain i sheathed myself in and waited till he felt comfortable grinding in making him more wet.

"Y-you can move now." That was all I needed as I began thrusting into him. His wet pussy felt too good and sucked me in as I tried to leave.

"uh ah~ ah" He moaned as I used his body like a ragdoll my cock constantly pushing against his prostate.

"p-please its too much." He tried pushing me away as he tried to run.

I moved his hands away grabbing his waist as a better handle for fucking him. "Imagine your friends could see you now drooling and whining for cock in you."

"no augh~."

"no what? come on slut you too fucked out to talk." He tightened up around me making me groan.

I felt myself getting closer to my release as my thrusts became more sloppier. "Where do you want me to cum huh? You want me to fill you up pl-plug you up so while you walk around UA you are reminded of you belong to?"

"please~ please I need it it feels sho good." He whined pleading me I laughed all along he needed someone dick him down. Then he would act normal.

I obliged with his begs filling him up as he wished he shook as he collapsed cumming all over me. I slowly left him making a wet plap! sound he looked like a fucked out mess and I was proud. I took a picture with my mind burning the image there forever.

I won't ever look at him the same that was for sure. I tidied him up and I was about to leave him there when he whispered "please.. stay."

I groaned I was about to leave but he looked so cute. Whatever I'll leave in the morning.

#zeusy☁️#x top male reader #top male reader #sub character #black male reader #mha bakugou #mha #bhna x male reader

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farfromstrange · 2 months

Text

Weed Cookies | Matt Murdock x F!Reader

PART 3 of The Vault

See this post for more information on my Valentine's Day Special & Follower Celebration, but these fics can be read separately!

Pairing: Matt Murdock x F!Reader

Summary: Karen receives a box of cookies from one of their clients. Foggy and Matt take a bite. Even with his heightened senses though, Matt doesn't realize what's wrong with the cookies before he's absolutely wasted, and you have to babysit him. Yes, they were edibles.

Warnings: Fluff, faint hints at S3 depressed!Matt and suicidal ideations, attempt at humor, crack fic, accidental drug use, for the sake of this fic we are going to pretend that the edibles were made well enough for Mister I-Know-Everything to miss it

Word Count: 3.4k

A/n: I wrote this after watching the episode of Grey's Anatomy with the Weed Cookies. I took some behaviorisms from my own experiences and exaggerated them a little to fit the vibe of this fic. I scraped parts of this and once again adjusted them because this was even more poorly written before than it is now, and I added the Nelson, Murdock & Page Season 3 narrative again because that's now the running theme of this event. Anyway, if you choose to consume edibles, stay safe! (Also, I'm just copying and pasting my usual tag lists. if anyone wants to be added for this event, do let me know)

“We just got cookies from Ms. Lebowsky next door,” Karen announces happily when she enters the office, balancing the transparent Tupperware in one hand and her handbag in the other.

“She told me to thank you for helping her get out of that hellhole,” she says. Her eyes crinkle in the corners as a mischievous grin takes over her face. “There’s plenty for all four of us. Although she did mention Matt a few more times.”

“Ms. Lebowsky?” Foggy asks. He stands in the doorway of his office, holding a freshly brewed coffee. “Isn’t she the elderly lady we helped last week?”

“Yeah, that’s her. I think she has a crush on Matt.”

He rolls his eyes. “Of course, she does. Who doesn’t? Not that I do, but—well, you get the gist.” The blood rushes to his cheeks, and Karen giggles in response.

From the office on the left, Matt’s voice rings out, “We just did our jobs,” he says. “She made us cookies, dude!” Foggy inspects the box on Karen’s desk. “They’re chocolate chip cookies. Our favorite. See what good looks can buy you?”

Matt chuckles, his fingers tracing the Braille indentations in the documents that are starting to form a mountain before him. “I think we got them because we’re good lawyers, Foggy.”

“Yeah, right. No way! That woman was smitten the second she came in. I really gotta get that blind thing going. I mean, she’s way too old for you, but come on! You’re in a serious committed relationship, and women still come piling at your door. It’s not fair.”

The way he whines like a little kid who has just been denied his favorite candy makes Karen laugh at his antics, and even Matt can’t help but join in. No matter how stressed he is, and how badly he wants to focus, Foggy never fails to lighten the mood.

Ever since moving offices, things have been going well for the trio.

When Matt met you, he was at his lowest. You helped him climb out of a dark hole that was threatening to swallow him whole after losing Elektra and almost losing everything he worked so hard for to Wilson Fisk. Thanks to you, he found the will to fight again. You brought him back to life.

He wanted to die. He hated himself for the longest time after the building collapsed and forever took the first woman he ever loved down with its ruins, but then you came into his life, and you didn’t care about his baggage. You were far too good for him, but that didn’t matter to you.

He fell for you hard and fast, and maybe the timing was a little off because what he needed was therapy and not someone new to get attached to. Still, if you hadn’t pulled him back to his feet and encouraged him to fight back against Fisk, saving his friendship with the people he cares most about in the process, he would have never made it far enough to get therapy.

Matt trusts you with his life because he feels like he owes it to you, but he also loves you more than anything. You’re the best thing that has ever happened to him. You’re his soulmate, and he couldn’t be happier.

Nelson & Murdock added Karen to their permanent repertoire. With her, things are flowing much more smoothly, and they’re actually making money now. They’re expensive, as Foggy likes to say it. Matt’s friends are just as happy as he is, giving him hope for the future.

“Hey,” Foggy snaps him out of his trance, “Earth to Murdock.”

Matt blinks behind his glasses, his fingers halting their frantic movements along the paper. “While I don’t disagree with what you’re saying,” he says, “please don’t let my girlfriend hear you say that women are piling at my door.”

Karen snorts. “Trust me, Matt. She knows,” she says.

“Yeah, but you shouldn’t remind her of that.”

“My lips are sealed. Foggy?”

He sighs, once again dramatically. “As long as you don’t sleep with them, you have nothing to fear, my friend.”

“I wasn’t planning on it,” says Matt. “The one I’m sleeping with is incomparable.”

Foggy grimaces. “Oh, dude. Gross! You know, God made conscious thought as a mechanism for humans to know when to shut up.”

“To be fair, ninety percent of the population don’t know how to use that mechanism,” Karen jumps to Matt’s defense.

As he laughs, he takes a whiff of the air surrounding their new baked goods. Matt can smell the sweet chocolate of the cookies, and somewhat of a herbal essence, but he can’t quite pinpoint why the scent seems so familiar.

Karen walks around her desk to drop her bag and her coat. “So, do guys want a cookie?” she asks, swiftly changing the subject.

“I’ll take one,” Foggy is quick to answer.

Matt nods from his desk. “I’ll try one, too.”

The innocent decision to indulge in a sweet treat soon comes back to bite them in the ass though. Heavily.

When Matt first bit into the cookie, he didn’t think there was anything wrong with it. It tasted like chocolate mixed with basil, sugar, honey, and the kind of flour Ms. Lebowsky used, but he didn’t find much else wrong with it. Perhaps if he hadn’t allowed himself to get distracted by his phone calling out your name and the sweetest text he could have possibly received this early in the morning from the love of his life, he would have noticed that something tasted off about these cookies. And that what he believed to have been basil as a secret ingredient was something else entirely.

When lunchtime finally rolls around, you drop everything you were doing before and make your way to Matt’s office. You always spend lunch together. It’s your favorite time of the day. For an hour, you can forget the stress of your workplace and focus on him. He’s your safe haven. Your home. You crave to memorize his features anew every day so that you will have something to carry around with you when he has to work a bit longer, or when he goes out at night and his Daredevil duties drag on beyond what he planned.

You need to be with him as much as possible because you’re scared that your happiness will shatter on a white cloth, and you will be forced to move on—you can’t imagine losing him. You dedicated your life to loving him, and the thought of ever losing that privilege kills you.

On your way out, your phone vibrates in your pocket. You smile, thinking that it’s Matt, but when Karen’s number pops up on your screen, you frown.

‘We have a problem,’ she texted you. Without context.

All the alarms in your head start blaring, and you start to walk a little faster. You start imagining all possible scenarios. When you ask Karen what’s going on, she doesn’t even reply. What if someone got hurt? What if something happened to Matt? You almost lost him once; you can’t go through that again.

You burst into the new office space that your friends share a few minutes later, your chest heaving and sweat dripping down your pulsating temples. You’re ready to fight whoever dared to hurt the man you love, or possibly threaten your friends, or both, but when you look up and see your darling boyfriend with his cheek pressed against one of the leaves on their gigantic office plant as if the overgrown Calathea were the coziest pillow he has ever touched, you understand why Karen texted you that you—both you and her—have a problem. A big one, too, judging by the looks of it.

“What is going on here?” you ask the dreaded question, shutting the door behind you.

Only then do you notice Karen to your right in Foggy’s office, trying to get him off of his office chair. He’s belting the chorus of Defying Gravity at the top of his lungs, and he’s got a broom clutched tightly in his right hand.

Oh boy. Your wide eyes drift to Karen’s desk in the middle of the room. As soon as you see the chocolate cookies inside the Tupperware, it slowly begins to dawn on you.

You’re not sure which is worse: Matt cradling a houseplant with his glasses discarded and the first three buttons of his dress shirt undone as he’s coated in sweat, or Foggy singing one of Broadway’s greatest ballads so off-key that the Calathea is starting to wither.

It takes Matt much longer than usual to sense your presence in the room. He calls your name, and his lips curl into a bright grin. Even completely out of it, he looks like an angel on earth.

“Matthew,” you say. You approach him like you would approach a little kid. He’s on his knees, so the analogy isn’t far off.

“Hi, honey. What’s going on?”

“Sweetheart,” he greets you, and you have never heard this man sound so relaxed. His hazel eyes are red-rimmed and glazed over, but the most obvious change lies in his behavior.

“Feel that.” He reaches for your hand when you’re close enough for him to smell you, but he misses. “Where are you?” Matt pouts. “I can’t see.”

You want to laugh, but this is not the time. “You are blind, baby,” you remind him.

“Since when?”

“Over twenty years.”

“Oh.” He finally gets a hold of your hand. The conversation seems to go right over his head. “Feel the power of nature,” he tells you. “It’s so soft.”

You want to drag him away from the potentially dangerous plant if he decides to eat it, but the sight of him is one to behold. He looks downright adorable.

You have to focus though. You gently pat his hand. “Maybe later,” you say, and then you make your way to Karen’s desk to inspect the cookies.

Behind you, she calls your name. You twirl around. From the looks of it, she managed to get Foggy down from his chair, but he remains singing at the top of his lungs. All the signs point to one thing, and one thing only.

“Did you give my boyfriend weed cookies?” you sound a lot more condescending than you planned to.

Karen shakes her head. Her face is pale, and she looks just as panicked as you do. “Those are not mine,” she says.

“But you knew they were edibles?!”

“Of course, I didn’t! I started questioning it when Matt started cuddling the plant because his Braille felt like boobs and he didn't want to cheat on you, so he decided that he needed to touch some grass.” She points to him, exasperated. As if on cue, Matt lets out a happy little sigh.

Your brain struggles to process all of the information at once. “I’m sorry, what?”

“He said that his Braille feels like boobs. I don’t know! I thought he was messing with me until Foggy turned into Elphaba, and that’s when I took a bite and realized there was weed in them,” she says.

You groan, your worried eyes momentarily flicking back to your high boyfriend. High. That’s not a word you thought you would ever associate with him. “How did this happen?” you ask.

“Ms. Lebowsky, the lady next door, we helped her out the other day, and this morning, she gave me these cookies. I called her when these two started acting like idiots—more than usual, anyway. Turns out, she confused them with the ones her niece made for her birthday party tomorrow.”

“Her niece made edibles for her birthday party?”

“Please, don’t ask. I don’t have all the details. I just–”

“It’s fine,” you cut her off. “Just tell me that you’ve got Foggy under control.”

Karen peeks in through the window to his office. “More or less, yeah. You’ve got Matt?”

“Yeah, I’ve got him.”

You have to take care of him. He’s your responsibility. But as calm as he is right now, his heightened senses make the situation a lot more complex than the mere accidental consumption of edibles.

Walking over to him, you try to haul him up. He protests, at first, but then he feels the fabric of your shirt, and he slacks.

Matt wraps his arms around you, burying his face in your neck. “You’re so soft,” he coos. “You smell like honey.”

With his entire weight on you, you have to widen your stance so you won’t fall over. His usually quick reflexes are nonexistent right now; he won’t be able to catch you if you trip, and then you’re both going to get hurt.

“You know what’s even softer?” you ask.

“The plant,” he answers confidently. He sounds like a more careless version of himself. You can’t deny that it does something to you.

“No, silly,” you chuckle softly, “I meant your bed.”

“Oh. But I’m not tired.”

“You’re high.”

He pouts. “I didn’t mean to.”

“I know.” You stroke his back. “It’s okay. I’m not mad at you.”

He stiffens and relaxes at the same time. You swear you can feel the electricity in his veins as his nerves respond to the feeling of your skin on his. It’s like he’s on fire. Like your touch feels a million times more intense, and he’s being crushed under the weight of it in a way that makes him crave more.

He squeezes you tighter, trying to get swallowed by you, consumed to the point that you are the same person. The drugs are doing a number on him, and his already heightened sense of feeling has increased tenfold to the point you’re not sure if it’s pleasurable or painful or both. It must be agonizing, yet at the same time there is a high chance that the weed is calming his nerves and dampening his perception to the point he’s taking everything in without the added weight—he’s enjoying the newfound sensations in limbo, and he’s unaffected by it. You wonder how long that is going to last.

After bidding farewell to Karen, wishing her good luck with Foggy who has now reached a point of his high where he’s lying on the floor, demanding to listen to Bohemian Rhapsody and cry over Freddie Mercury. She assures you that she has got it under control, apologizes again, and then sends you on your way.

“Bye, Karen,” Matt says. “You have very nice hair.” His hand tangles in yours, and his face lights up like a Christmas Tree. You managed to convince him to put his glasses on, at least, or he might get irritated. “Never mind,” his voice turns into a pur.

Usually, you would shiver at his fingers in your hair, tracing the strands and sensually massaging your scalp only he knows how to, but today is not one of those days. You’re still concerned about the effects that the weed might have on him, so you want to be careful, although you’re not sure how much longer you can keep yourself from laughing.

As you maneuver Matt through the streets of Hell’s Kitchen, his cane hovers above the ground and his arm is hooked around yours. Without you, he would have run off into traffic by now. He has absolutely no spatial awareness anymore.

Every sound, scent, and texture seems to capture his attention, but there's one sensation in particular that he can't seem to shake: thirst. You’re not even home yet, and you had to stop by a convenience store to get him a bottle of water. He shed his coat, which you are now carrying for him while also guiding him while simultaneously trying not to attract any unwanted attention.

You can’t help but look at him as though he is your whole world. He is. He is everything to you, even high on edibles he never meant to consume, and acting like a feral toddler. If anything, you are even prouder now that he is yours.

“Hey,” he whispers, leaning close to you, “do you think fire hydrants taste like licorice?”

You shake your head. “I can’t believe I’m saying this, but Matt, don’t lick the fire hydrant.”

He pouts. For a moment, you think that you have steered off any possible disaster, but that was only wishful thinking.

Matt’s curiosity knows no bounds, and he’s soon reaching out to touch anything that catches his eye. He runs his fingers along the rough brick foundation of a building, marveling at the texture, and he stops to sniff a flower, declaring, “This is the most beautiful flower I have ever smelled.”

You pluck it for him, and he carries it in the pocket of his coat with a happy smile.

You’re both exhausted when you finally make it to his apartment. Getting his large frame through the door is one thing, stopping him from tearing the tap off the sink as he desperately searches for liquid with the words, “Water!” is another.

“Okay, okay,” you try to calm him. You grab a bottle from the fridge, open it for him, and force him to take it. “Drink.”

One touch is enough for him to drop it. “It’s cold,” he recoils in agony.

You sigh. “Tap water it is, then.”

You have never seen him down so many glasses of water. He is severely dehydrated and sensitive to changes in temperature. It’s either too hot or too cold, and you’re so glad that Karen texted you when she did.

You manage to get him to the couch with some snacks that he devours within seconds. If he moves one more inch today, you may not be able to catch him again.

His lip twitches. “Chickens don’t have any arms.”

You pause in the process of wrapping him in a blanket, staring blankly ahead at him. “Excuse me?” you ask.

“Chickens don’t have any arms,” Matt states. “Every American citizen has the right to bear arms under the second amendment in the constitution. If an egg was fertilized on US soil, and the chicken hatched there as well, technically, that makes them a citizen of the United States of America, therefore allowing tiny creatures without arms the right to bear arms, but who gives the bears their arms?”

You’re so flabbergasted that the absurdity of the situation eludes you. The words process only slowly in your mind, and when they do, they cause a wave of confusion to wash over you before it turns into genuine amusement, and it takes every ounce of self-control to keep yourself from laughing at him.

You can pinpoint the exact second the thought escapes his mind and something else replaces it. His hand brushes over the leather couch. “Smooth,” he observes. You haven’t even fully processed his very philosophical question about the animal kingdom before he drops his cheek down on the couch.

The man who has been carrying the weight of the world in bricks on his back for years is finally relaxed; it shouldn’t leave such a bitter aftertaste in your mouth.

You kneel in front of him, reaching out to touch his cheek. “Do you need anything?” you ask.

Matt’s gaze is filled with an odd sort of clarity. “Nah. Just you,” he mumbles.

A soft smile tugs at your lips as you brush a sweaty strand of hair away from his forehead. "I'm right here," you reassure him.

He nods, his eyelids drooping as the effects of the edibles start to take their toll. “Good.” He searches for your hand, and you help him intertwine your fingers. A giddy smile finds its way onto his face. “You’re warm.”

You lean in to press a gentle kiss to his forehead. “And you’re high,” you tease.

Matt huffs out a breathy laugh. “Mmh, yeah,” he says. “But it’s okay. ‘Cause you’re here.”

Despite the chaos and the unexpected turn of events, there’s a sense of contentment settling over you as you watch him drift off into a state of bliss. He deserves it more than anyone.

You stay by his side, watching over him as he succumbs to the pull of sleep that you’re all too familiar with after a sudden high.

“Note to self,” you say to yourself, “never eat a stranger’s cookies without drug testing them first.”

And love has funny ways of making even the most absurd moments feel strangely beautiful.

Matt Murdock Tag List: @littlenerdyravenclaw @yarrystyleeza @etanordoesbullsh1t @thychuvaluswife @harleycao @schneeflocky @imjustcal @pipsqueakkitten @merlinbtch @sya-skies @amberritonicole @thatonegamefish @norestfortheshelbywicked @mattkinsella @itwasthereaminuteago @linamarr @gpenguin666 @acharliecoxedfan

#matt murdock x reader #matt murdock #matt murdock x f!reader #matt murdock fluff #matt murdock x you #daredevil #daredevil x reader #reader insert #from the vault #charlie cox #weed cookies

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kentosbabes · 1 year

Text

quicky in the bathroom?

toji x f!reader

content; bathroom sex, eats you out, toji in a suit, p in v :p

you can feel his heated glances at you ever since you walked into the room, you'd have to be a fool or just plain blind not to notice him. his energy unmatched in the corner of the room, staring at his nursed cup of whisky for the whole night. you had only been at the bar to celebrate your friend's birthday, but you've been sent on a mission by her to get some drinks from the front and bring them back. you roll your eyes, but obviously, you're not going to ignore the birthday girl's wishes are you?

you make your way over to the bar, hips swaying as you do, and lean forward reciting the order of some minty mojitos and asking them to just make any type of cocktail they feel. at this point, toji is now fully staring at you. lust in his eyes and a smirk on his lips. he gives you an intense once over, taking his time to check you out. you suppose he is an attractive man, with a white shirt that's unbuttoned at the top and smart suit trousers. he comes up to you whilst your drinks are being made, introducing himself as toji, and asking if you'd want to go to the bathroom with him. usually, if you had been a little soberer, you'd say no. but alas, a hot man is propositioning you and you've been needing a good fuck.

he tells the man working the bar to hold on to the drinks for a bit and hold your hand, tugging you to the bathroom. he pauses and looks down at you, and you had a peculiar feeling of being a rabbit caught by a fox. his hands started to roam your body, slamming his lips to yours. he groaned as you pulled the top of your dress down so he can feel your tits in your bra. mewling, he leaned into your ear "don't want the whole bar to hear us, keep it down and I might reward you." his breath tickled your neck. let them, who cares? you yanked his tie to get closer "i want you, now."

"yes, ma'am." he winked at you and knelt on the floor, bunching up your dress and pulling down your panties. he teased you, commenting on how wet and needy you seemed to be for him and his dick. he started slow, toji liked to see you come undone with just his fingers, imagine how you would look on his dick. toji could feel the cool tile on his knees and shin, fabric pooling at his feet. looking up at you he started to tentatively kiss your thighs, moving closer and closer up your legs until he got to your cunt. spitting on it, you found it juxtaposing the image in front of you. a handsome, well-bred, obviously rich man who is in a suit and tie doing something so lewd and crude. it sent heat down there, one that could only be satiated by his tongue. toji started to lick you, slow at first but precise, he defiantly knew what he was doing with his movement. his calloused finger made its way into your pussy and the combination of his hot mouth and finger in you sent you to your edge. he paused, "as much as i want you to cum on my mouth, i would rather you cum on my dick."

he leaned in for another kiss, biting your bottom lip and running his tongue down your neck. it sent shivers down your spine, "you're ready now aren't you?" unzipping his pants and pulling down his boxers, you could see his dick tenting. you have never seen a dick that big, and this is going to sound cliche but how would that even fit in you? you voice this to him and all he does is smile, "don't worry darlin' it will. trust me with this." you nod, looking up at him with pleading eyes.

he positioned himself to your pussy, thrusting up in one swift motion. only pausing to allow you to feel comfortable, "you ok?" you nod- biting your bottom lip. he reared back and dragged himself up inch by inch, painstakingly slow, it was as if he gain pleasure from watching you fight the urge to just tell him to go fast. eventually, it was too much and you just asked him, whispering to go faster. "hm? i can't hear you darlin' say it again a lil louder for me." he was wearing a sardonic smile and mirth playing at his lips. "p-please can you go faster?" you whined. your wish was his command, you twitched and writhed while he started to move to a faster rhythmic pace. "fucking beautiful, i know you like this, us hiding in the bathroom of the bar." toji grunted, rocking back and faster into you, you could tell he was nearing his end as his balls started to tighten up and he stilled. your pussy squeezed his cock as he quickly asked if he could cum in you, you wanted to know if his cum would be as hot as his dick was and you were on the pill. he slammed into your cunt sending rope after rope of white cum, rooted deep into you.

you flutter your eyes closed for a second in bliss, you could still feel his cum dripping down your overstimulated slit. "do you want to go again?" he nodded "i'll drive you to my hotel."

#toji smut #jjk toji #toji headcanons #toji imagine #toji fic #jujutsu nanami #jujustsu kaisen x reader #toji fushiguro #toji thirst #toji in a suit #jujutsu kaisen toji #jujutsu toji #toji x you #toji x reader #toji x y/n #toji is so fine wtff

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fairytsuk1 · 1 year

Text

getting katsuki gifts for the holidays was like trying to teach a monkey to dance, it was impossible.

you'd whined, mumbling about how the two of you had enough money to buy most items you wanted; katsuki also never seemed to never ask for things specifically.

"so, katsuki... the holidays are coming up!"

he's picking at his ordered in take-out, and you can see his displeasure at the lack of peppers as he picks through his kung pao chicken.

"yeah, already got your gift," and he's giving you smirk that makes you sweat, "are you sure you got the right chicken? this shit tastes like the fuckin' kids menu."

your eyes get caught on the wedding band wrung around his fingers, sailing the veins of his forearm till you can see his bulging biceps in the black muscle shirt. was your husband hand-carved by gods? seemed likely.

"mmm, no, it should be the kung pao chicken, want me to chop some chilies up for you?"

you're standing before he can protest, taking out your knives and chopping boards, "and you already have my gift? I don't have your gift, yet."

the box of take-out is set down as your husband circles his arm around your waist to leave soft kisses on the column of your neck.

"yeah, 'cause you don't love me," and a thankful hand squeezes your ass just to show his appreciation for the chopping of chilies, "...whatcha gonna get me?"

his hands are still wandering, and you're thinking more of what his talented fingers could do than his stupid gift, "i'm not supposed to tell, you know. santa's elves might get me into a whole lotta trouble."

he gropes you even more fiercely, and you can feel his pressing need against your back.

"fuck santa,"

he carries you off in a fit of giggles to your shared bedroom.

the bookstore was fairly crowded and you felt thankful you could slip by unnoticed and browse the various books of romance or sci-fi; katsuki didn't even seem like a sci-fi guy so each row left you feeling panicky and like a bad wife the further and further you went.

"excuse me, do you have any classical romance?"

the timbre of the voice makes your heart stop. It sounded just like, well, katsuki! your legs are thrumming with the knee-jerk reaction to tackle him to the ground, but you were literally buying his gift! the surprise would be ruined, and you're dashing into the row of cookbooks to calm yourself.

maybe it's not even him. you know what they say, just because it sounds like katsuki doesn't mean it is! you're affirming yourself silently when footsteps grow close, and your husband is flashing by you in seconds.

it is katsuki!

"i'm fucked."

your eyes follow the object of your love, his strong hands randomly pick books out of nowhere, but there's grumbles of displeasure as he skims the summary and grimaces at the cover. he didn't know that much about books, but you deserved something special.

you'd dealt with all the hero stuff (being gone for long periods of time and coming home nearly dead was no news to you), always made him lunch or dinner, and frankly... katsuki found his eyes drifting to a sleeping baby in its stroller.

he'd started thinking more like that. so the gift had to be pretty damn good!

a man strikes up conversation, and you smile at the idea that katsuki wasn't just factually married, but he gave that aura too. yeah, that was your man.

"i'm shoppin' for my wife," straight to the point and he's already grumbling at having to interact with this person for more than a minute.

"wow! a true husband, what's with the books then? looking to open your marriage?"

it's a joke that katsuki doesn't find funny, you do however and you're sure this conversation would be going very differently.

"fuck no. i'm just lookin' for somethin' good," there's a brief pause in his words, and katsuki looks askance at having to provide a reason why, "she does a lot for me. want her to know I appreciate it."

a beating heart is soothed by the words. your hormones run wild at his mild love declaration, and you're grinning like a mad man.

katsuki wakes up on christmas morning to find his absolute favorite thing; you.

and the book he got was pretty damn good, too.

#bnha imagines #mha x reader #boku no hero academia x reader #boku no hero academia smut #boku no hero imagines #my hero academia smut #my hero academia x reader #my hero academia imagines #bakugou katsuki x reader #bakugou katsuki smut #bakugou x reader #katsuki bakugou x reader

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thelov3lybookworm · 4 months

Text

Winter Without You

Summary: Its been fifty years since he left. Being happy no longer feels right, and winter no longer feels like winter without him.

•○●⛦●○•

A/n: As a gift to all my babies, your lil santa got a lil busy eatin cookies, so here is a late solstice present 😉

(Also to make up for the awful Rhysie in remember me)

(this is mostly Y/n missing and wallowing in sadness because she misses rhysand, the end is reunion)

(i also know this is kind of a break up song, but the lyrics fit 🤷🏻‍♀️)

•○🌑○•

Every year right around this time People putting up trees and lights And I been thinking that this don't feel right 'Cause I'm without you

Everywhere Y/n looked, she found people smiling, with and without reason.

And she could not blame them, for it was the season to be happy.

The coming of solstice had everyone excited, making the air and aura lighter and brighter, filling it with loving laughter and chatter.

Y/n almost hated herself for tainting it with the darkness and sadness she had been carrying around lately.

Almost.

Only because there was no place in her heart for any emotion that was not longing for her husband.

'Cause I'm without you If I could make a list, you'd be the first in it If I could make a wish, you'd show in a minute Only if it was that way But there's some things that I can't change

There had been a new tradition going around Velaris.

Parents had begun telling their children about how the mother would grant their wishes and give them all they wished for if they stayed good all year, in hopes to get them to behave, and Y/n could not help but wish it were true.

Wished that the mother really did grant wishes on solstice, if only it meant Y/n could pray for her husband to be returned to her.

Wished that all she had to do was make a list of things she wanted, the first- and only- thing she wanted being Rhysand, and when she woke up in the morning, she'd find that he had returned.

Y/n sighed, continuing to walk towards the town house after a quick run to the market for some ingredients the wraith twins had asked for.

So now This ain't winter without you No more joy, no laughter Wish that I could turn it back around When I'm falling down

Winter had been Y/n's favourite season. Because colder weather meant drinking hot chocolate prepared by her husband.

It meant snuggling up to his warm body, grinning shyly up at him.

It meant watching him laugh whole heartedly, receiving a kiss on the forehead before he went back to his work, now with her stuck to him like a new limb.

It meant being forced to stand still while he wrapped her up in warm coats and scarves whenever they went out, grumbling about the extra layers and receiving a kiss to quiet her down.

It meant extra time in the bed in the morning with her husband because they both were too lazy to get up.

It meant being stuck to him or following him around like a lost duckling because she was just that desperate for warmth and fire never satiated her needs quite like her husband did.

But that was all before he had left.

Now fifty years had passed, and still it never got easier.

Winter just was not the same without him, and it made her wonder how she had ever lived without him before they met.

So how How am I supposed to go without you? Days gone cold so won't you Say that you'll be home for christmas

She yearned for him.

To simply hear his voice again, to stare into those beautiful eyes, she was ready to bargain away her life.

She no longer cared whether she lived or died, and she would have taken her own life a long time ago if it meant she would not have to bear this pain.

Despite trying to end things multiple times, Y/n could never take that final step, because the last thing she wanted to see before she died was not the ceiling or the wall of her bedroom.

It was those violet eyes she wanted to die to.

She did not want the feeling of the cold hard ground or hanging suspended in the air to be the last thing she felt before that sweet reprieve claimed her.

It was the feeling of strong, warm and loving arms wrapped around her body.

She wished he would at least open his mind to her, so she could at the very least ask him if he was eating well. Sleeping well. Drinking enough water.

Y/n wanted to ask him if he was okay.

Wanted to tell him he was strong, that he was stronger than anyone she had ever known, and to never give up.

Alas, all she could do was want and wish.

All she had done in the past half century.

And if I could turn back the time You'd be in my arms again But there's some things that I can't change

Y/n sometimes cursed the mother for not granting her the power to turn back time, for not making any instrument to fast forward in time, just so she could at least have one glimpse of her lover, her husband, and know that he was alright.

She wished she'd been born with the gift to turn back time so she could have him in her arms again.

Hell, she even perused the books in the library of the house of wind in search of any way to turn back time, didn't matter if it was allowed or not. Even if it went against all laws of nature, if it would curse her soul forever to go against the decision of the Mother.

Mother's happiness and blessing be damned, Y/n just wanted to hold and be held by her husband again.

Even if she'd burn in hell for it.

Heavy snow pouring out my window I pray to stars and the angels No, no more lonely nights

Y/n sat next to the huge window in the darkened room, arms wrapped around her knees as she watched the snow dance in the air before landing softly onto the already blanketed layer on the ground.

She swallowed down the knot in her throat.

Back before Rhys had left and then been unable to return, he would take Y/n out to play.

Just the way him and his brothers would have snowball fights, he would play with Y/n in the snow, as if the two of them were again kids.

Rhys knew all about Y/n's upbringing, and it had never been glitter and sparkles. So whatever chance he got, he tried to get her to experience everything she had missed out on.

This was one of those things.

Now Y/n sat alone, the sounds of her family celebrating in the background, and she prayed again.

Prayed to the stars, the moon, the night sky, the mother, the angels, the devils and forgotten mortal gods.

Prayed to anyone willing to listen, to return her husband.

She had lost all hope, but still, there was nothing else she could do but sit and pray for his health and safety and hope.

Pray to them so there were no more lonely nights she had to go through.

Hope that he would be by her side again.

So I keep wishing and hoping You'd walk through the door Hold me 'cause I know We'll fight through the cold

She had stopped celebrating solstice or any other event that she had loved before, because what was the point in celebrating life when the one who kept you alive was probably dying off somewhere?

Y/n sucked in a ragged breath, clenching her eyes shut, feeling the fat tears roll down her cheek.

The sound of footsteps echoed outside the door, and her eyes flashed open, and she stared at the door, wishing, hoping, it was him.

Hoping he walked in through the door, gave her his signature charming smile, and then held her as they both fought to get back to their normal lives.

She would give anything for that piece of imagination to become reality.

Y/n sighed and turned back to the window as the footsteps faded away, likely a family member going to bed.

Now tell me how How am I supposed to go without you? Days gone cold so won't you Say that you'll be home for Christmas

Staring at the stars that he probably could not see, she screamed.

After everyone had gone to bed, Y/n had snuck out of the town house and made her way to the tallest peak in Velaris, and then finally, she let loose.

It had become a tradition, a habit, where every solstice night, Y/n would sneak out of home and come to this exact mountain, and scream up at the stars.

Why her? Why him?

She screamed and screamed, asking the mother, and him- not that he could hear- how she was supposed to live without him.

How she was supposed to be happy without him.

And then, after hours of screaming and cursing at the twinkling starry sky, she would collapse, staring up while laying on her back, whispering, pleading, begging, for some sign that he would return.

That he would be home, at the very least, for the next solstice.

So how How am I supposed to go without you? Days gone cold so won't you Say that you'll be home for Christmas

Exhausted, she would fall asleep, only waking once the soft rays of the sun caressed her skin gently, telling her it was time to start the miserable routine she had fallen into all over again.

She would drag herself back home, suppressing the urge to throw herself into the Sidra, and wait for the next solstice to come around so she could again scream and cry at the injustice of it all.

•○🌑○•

The wards felt different today, Y/n could feel it.

They felt stronger, more lively, though they seemed ready to fall.

What was going on, Y/n could not tell, but as she made her way through the winding passages of the moonstone palace, her heart beat louder and faster, and a sense of longing gripped Y/n's body in a vise-like grip.

Her strolling footsteps hurried, and Y/n was running by the time she reached one of the sitting rooms, the door ajar.

Panting, chest heaving, she took that final step, and her world came to a stop.

She smelled him before she heard him, heard him before she saw him, and saw him before she understood fully who she was staring at.

Rhysand.

Her husband.

The male she was in love with, one she had not seen in fifty long years, one she yearned to get a glimpse of each second of every day spent she spent without.

He stood there, his skin pale as he hugged his cousin, crying, whispering, over and over again, where is she?

Where is my wife?

It took only a moment for the siblings to notice the new presence in the room, but to Y/n, it was another fifty years.

Though this wait she did not mind, for what did a moment compare to eighteen thousand, two hundred sixty-two days?

She simply stared at the embracing siblings, a traitorous tear slipping out of her eye the longer she stared.

And then finally, he lifted his eyes, and glossy violet met hers, widening, more tears slipping out as he pulled away from his cousin, his lips parting on an exhale.

Mor turned to look at Y/n, tear tracks staining her own cheeks, and grinned.

Y/n paid no attention to her though, her eyes tracking her husband's body, marking the amount of weight and muscle he had lost, the loss of colour of his skin, the dimmed shine in his once sparkling eyes.

Y/n swallowed. "Mor? Do you mind giving us a moment?"

"But-"

"Please, Mor." Y/n's voice broke, and she cursed herself for it.

Mor nodded, hastily making her way out of the room.

Y/n reached behind herself to grasp the door, shutting it softly, not taking her eyes off of him once.

She had let him out of her sight once, and as punishment, had been able to see him for fifty years. She would not look away again, not while this felt like a cruel dream the mother was showing Y/n, only to take it all away for her to realise she was dreaming.

"Rhysand." She whispered, taking a step foward.

"Y/n." His voice broke on the name, and he swallowed, tears beginning anew.

When she was close enough, she reached her hand out, running her fingers along his cheek, afraid anything other than the ghost of a touch would make him vanish.

His eyes were pleading, filled with silver, and Y/n wanted to do nothing more than throw herself onto him and never let go.

But she couldn't do that.

She first wanted t make sure this was not some mirage, and that he really was here, unhurt and safe, back with her where he belonged.

Slowly, she cupped his cheek, trying her best to stop any tears from flowing.

When she was sure that this was a miracle, not a mirage, Y/n stepped closer, searching his eyes, his face.

She gently grasped his chin, turning his head this way and that, running her hands along his shoulder and arms, searching for something she hoped was not there.

He laughed, the sound a balm to her frayed nerves.

"You've lost weight." Y/n phrased it like a question.

He smiled softly, sadly. "So have you."

She shook her head. "Are you okay?"

His smile widened, and he leaned forward slightly. "Will get there."

Y/n nodded, and then finally, she extended her arms, snaking them gently around his neck, pressing every inch of her body against his, and buried her face in his neck.

His arms wrapped around her back and waist, and instantly, tension bled from both their bodies. She tightened her hold on him, and he returned it tenfold.

Y/n didn't care he was crushing her, all she knew was she was home, finally.

He was back home.

"I missed you, husband."

"I missed you more, my love."

She pulled back her face to search his nearly empty eyes, and gave him the first smile she had smile in the past fifty years. He rested her forehead against hers, his lips tilted up in contentment.

"Welcome home, my love. Welcome home Rhysand."

•○🌑○•

Rhysand Taglist: @kennedy-brooke @hnyclover

General Taglist: @bubybubsters @eos-princess @nightless @harrystylesfan2686 @cassie6392

#rhysand x reader #rhysand fanfic #rhysand #acotar #acotar fandom #acotar fanfic #acotar fluff #acotar series #acotar writing #a court of thorns and roses #sarah j maas #acotar headcanon #mating bond

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perpetuallydaydreaming · 1 year

Text

aren’t promises meant to be broken?

at 17 sirius promised to always be there for you whenever you need him. now 3 years after your break up, sirius has yet to break this promise.

tags: sirius black x f!reader,, magical nuisances,, exes to friends to lovers,, hurt and comfort,, fluff,, angst,, slytherins + pandora,, no voldy

a/n: took me an embarrassing amount of time to finish but i’m kinda soft for this fic ngl

people never stay friends with their exes. even with the promises of being one when breaking up. most find it, understandably, too awkward to continue any sort of relationship with them.

you would have been one of those people, at least you think so. but certain circumstances have deemed this preference a futile thought.

“i can’t believe you got me here to clean your bathroom.” sirius glared, peeling off the rubber gloves off his hands and slumping down on the breakfast nook.

“someone had to do it.” you shrugged, “it wouldn’t be the first time,” you smiled, vanishing the gloves and cleaning the table too. before placing a plate in front of him filled with sausages, toast and beans.

“that’s the fucked up part! it isn’t even my first time doing this.” he groans, grabbing a fork that you immediately slapped away.

“wash your hands first, you animal.”

he whines a protest but gets up anyway, rubbing his slapped hands as he does so—pouting because he’s dramatic like that.

“aren’t you going to eat with me?” he asks, his back turned to you as he washes his hands.

you were almost going to say yes, out of habit, having done so numerous times before. but remembered belatedly, the date set up by regulus with one of his work colleagues. a proper fit to you, he said. “no, i’m meeting somebody for dinner later.”

he closes the tap, turning to you again. “dinner? with who?”

you clicked your tongue at the dripping mess he’s making on the floor. grabbing paper towels and tossing it to him to wipe it himself. “some bloke from regulus’ work.”

“regulus? another date then?”

you nodded, feeling a bit uncomfortable at the idea of talking about dates your ex’s brother set you up with.

he frowned. going back to the table and grabbing the fork to start eating the warm food. “i see,”

and that was, thankfully, the end of that.

you didn’t really want to delve into your dating life with anyone, much less your ex-boyfriend of all people—no matter how many times he cleans your bathroom. it was already morbidly pathetic, how your friends seem to think you needed help finding someone new and to move on with.

but in your defence, it is rather difficult finding someone who would be okay with your, er, arrangement with your ex.

it is all sirius’ fault, really, but what isn’t? accidentally making a magically-binding promise to you, seems just like the type of thing he would do. and he has.

ever since he made that promise at 17 when you’ve just started dating, sirius has been showing up in your life, ready to help you with anything you need. you thought of this is in a more figurative sense, but no. that was too simple.

instead, whenever you need something. maybe something as simple as scratching your back, to partaking in a monthly bathroom cleaning, sirius would just appear out of thin air into your house, or wherever you need him, and he would be required to do it else he wouldn’t be able to leave.

when you were dating, this was something you both enjoyed, sometimes even looked forward to. using it as an excuse to latch unto each other the whole day. but now, having been spilt for how many years now (3 but who’s counting?) you can imagine how this magic promise has become a nuisance in your everyday life.

you tried resisting it, of course. though the power of will and mental fortitude can only do so much when you can’t reach the top shelves of your kitchen. forget about avoiding your ex, when he can just pop in whenever, wherever, when you get so much as a paper cut. you can see how the novelty of the situation can run its course. so much so, you sort of just learn how to deal with it instead of fighting it.

you’ve learned to use this to your advantage, of course, making him do chores around the house, makes him a great house elf without the moral issues of owning one.

he was also quite reluctant, when you both broke up, but that was to be expected. he had tried moving away to france, thinking the distance might prevent him from showing up. but that only made it difficult to explain to the travel officers how he can exit the country without violating travel wizarding laws.

regardless of the reluctant acceptance of such peculiar arrangement, you still have that hope you can somehow reverse it.

this particular hope always trampled by your friends’ insistence to utilize your situation to your extreme satisfaction.

“i don’t understand why you would want to remove it, to be honest.” dorcas frowned flipping through the pages of magical vows and contracts, vol.2. “i mean if i had someone doing things for me all day long, i certainly wouldn’t complain.”

“are you joking? why would anyone want to stay bound to their ex?”

she looked over to you, tone playfully mocking, but mocking regardless. “you mean an ex who does everything you need him to?”

“well, how would you feel if lily was always around you doing stuff for you?”

“oh please, if lily was bound to me, cleaning my bathroom wouldn’t be the only thing she would be doing.”

you grimace, “spare me the details, i beg of you.”

“so you wouldn’t like it if you and sirius partook… in certain late night activities?” she hummed.

you sputter out scandalized gasps, face feeling gruesomely warm, “don’t be disgusting! i have no intentions of ever doing anything with him and i assume he share the sentiments, a-and it is appalling that you think so—!” you breathed in deep, willing your face to relax and to settle your wild heart. “i don’t need him to be anything other than a reluctant acquaintance.”

pandora laughs from the floor, “not even considering him as a friend? poor sirius.”

you huff, embarrassed and frankly a bit betrayed.

you friends have convinced themselves of sirius’ intentions to be more than what is required of him. pushing you of all people to act upon seducing him using your gods given womanly assets, as pandora had once labelled.

you abruptly stood up from the table, going over to the stove to reheat the water to make more tea. “besides, i am perfectly capable of handling things by myself, thank you very much.”

it’s dorcas who laughs this time, “what do you mean? just last week, he had to bandage your finger for you because you bit your cuticle to blood. you are entirely dependent on him at this point.”

you huff, “i am not. i am a woman capable of attending to my own needs. that was the bind’s requirements of it all, i have to let him do these things or the bond won’t ever let him leave, you know this already.” you groan, rolling your eyes. “my point still stands. i don’t need him, nor will i ever need him. i just want all of this out of my life and in the past, like it should have been.”

“doesn’t he have his own room in this house by now?”

“it’s not his room, it’s a guest room— that he frequently uses. there’s a difference.”

it was pandora munching on peanuts, wholly amused that responded next, “right,” she drawled, “and that’s why he has his clothes folded and tucked away in the closet.”

“oh piss off, the nuisance sometimes happens in the middle of the night. how could i let him go home so late? what kind of host would i be?”

“couldn’t he just go home straight after?” dorcas asks.

“is it a nuisance, still?” pandora asks.

you cross your arms, petulant, “he can, but he chooses not to. and yes, still.” you scoff, “i know you think something filthy is happening but i particularly don’t enjoy his impromptu trespasses, believe me.”

“i don’t know, you two seem to be getting along quite well.”

“me and that useless oaf? are you joking?”

pandora smiled sweetly, “hardly useless now, i hear.”

“and what did you hear?”

“takes care of you quite well, what with dinner invites with the potters and even travelling?”

you turned around, fiddling with the tea cups, hoping to hide your darkening flush. but you know it did nothing, judging by their giggles.

“travelling?” dorcas inquired, interest piqued.

you don’t see her but you can sense her teasing smile.

you have yet to share that tidbit of embarrassing info to her. mainly because you don’t know how to squeeze it in and you don’t know how to even begin.

you did go to the potters for one random dinner. the invite came after sirius had come and helped you arrange your home library. it was just a simple dinner. filled with other people, hardly anything scandalous.

the travelling together was accidental. you were off to travel with bloke #4, as graciously dubbed by sirius (someone regulus had set you up with at the time) off to a romantic getaway for the weekend to a hot spring up the mountains. only to get thirsty halfway through your trip and have sirius show up in your train compartment only in his boxers and fluffy bunny slippers.

there were no other stops in the train. anti apparition wards set up and the floo connection was severed in the hotel to promote exclusivity, sirius had to join in on the activities through his relentless insistence. he had ate and laughed obnoxiously loud - sitting dangerously close to you the entire trip. he had constantly went on a tangent, reminiscing about your past relationship ranging from random dates to the make out spots you’ve frequented together in hogwarts. safe to say that was the last time you’ve heard from bloke #4.

but you could hardly think to be upset about that. you quite… enjoyed yourself.

but you’ll be damned before you admit that to these two vultures.

taking a deep breath, “there was no dinner invites nor travelling. it was—“

“magical nuisance, yes, yes.” pandora waves off.

you roll your eyes again, grabbing the hot kettle to steep the tea. “stop trying to make things—ah! fuck, ow.” you hiss, holding your painfully warm, stinging fingers. you see the tiny boils already appearing on your skin, the piercing pain shooting through your fingers. you squeezed your hand, hoping to elevate some of the pain.

sirius made a quick move to grab your wrists to pull you to the sink. you didn’t even hear him arrive.

“what happened?” he asks, silver eyes looking at you in intense worry. softly holding your hand under the cold running water gliding down your hand. he was standing so close to you you could smell a tiny hint of his soap. you slowly start to relax.

that is before you catch dorcas’ glinting gaze and pandora’s knowing smile. both of which you vehemently ignore, as you stare at your red fingers and his much larger hand on yours.

“i burned my fingers on the kettle.”

“goodness love, you have to be more careful.”

“sorry.” you mumbled, but having no idea why you would even apologize in the first place. still, you feel the heat of your hand spread to your body.

dorcas, having stood up to help you sat back down again, “hello, sirius. right on time as always.” she called, a cetain lilt in her voice you nervously recognized.

“sirius black, what a coincidence.” pandora sing songs, no subtlety whatsoever.

oh, they are just the worst.

he regarded them both in an overly familiar smile (an ex shouldn’t give to his ex’s friends) and in a light teasing tone as he says “good evening, ladies. why do i get the feeling like you’ve been gossiping about me?”

“you might have been mentioned once or twice.” pandora shrugged.

sirius softly laughs, the sound barely heard over the sink, before he stares at your fingers again, rubbing his thumb over the sensitive skin. before looking at you with a teasing smirk to which you only roll your eyes at.

you see shuffling in your peripheral, meeting your friend’s eyes, you see them gesture to you and sirius. trying to wordlessly communicate to you with wide smiles. you imagine something akin to, see? what did we tell you? not useless right? nuisance my ass. look at you guys holding hands under the water.

as if just realizing it now, you pull your hand away from his grip in an embarrassed haste, as he slowly lets go with a small frown etched on his face.

drying his hands on the towel, as he leans down to unnecessarily whisper to you. “i’m going to get a burn salve, i’ll be quick.”

“it’s in the—“

“bathroom, yes, angel, i know. just wait for me.” he drawled, giving you a wry smile.

you stare at his retreating figure. you almost want to laugh at his serious reaction to a simple burn from a kettle. hardly calls for any salve. but you kept the comments in, for whatever reason. a fluffy, dangerous feeling erupting in your chest.

you hear dorcas whistle to get your attention, a smirk on her face, “angel?”

when the promise first happened, it was during graduation from hogwarts. absolutely gutted by the fact that your parents didn’t show. they’ve been vocal about their disappointment that you weren’t able to finish at the top of your class. but you had hoped they would still show. you were, after all, still their kid.

but there was noticeably empty seats in an area reserved for your family. so, naturally as any teenager, the next best thing you could do in the situation is cry alone in a bathroom.

though the lack of company didn’t last too long, because then your boyfriend appeared, looking to be in a middle of taking pictures if his big and goofy face is anything to go by.

he heard you, before he saw you. hearing your soft sniffles and the tiny hiccups from your mouth. at the time, you both didn’t question what had happen. why he was inside the girl’s bathroom, why is there a strange pull to follow your every whims. but he was suddenly there to comfort you, and make you smile again—who were you deny his services?

you both only managed to understand what was happening by the third time it happened. sirius suddenly appearing by your bedside, wet and covered in suds. he was in the middle of showering and you promptly freaked out, seeing large bits you weren’t ready to see yet.

but understanding why it was happening didn’t mean both of you would be prepared anytime it actually happened.

the bind didn’t pick and choose when, where, and why he would appear. there was an embarrassing moment when he showed up in the bathroom when you’ve ran out of tissue paper. also at your house during dinner when you needed salt, to which your parents justifiably freaked out at the sight of a boy, claiming to be your boyfriend.

this hasn’t changed years later.

now as you lie in your bed, feeling the scratchy feeling in your throat. you knew by the tingles in your arms. the thrumming static of your magic within you— letting you know of his arrival before you could even sit up.

there he was, your ex-boyfriend, like the days before. it was terribly late, and he was struggling to even stand straight as he yawns in the middle of your room, wearing a set of well-loved teddy bear pajamas.

“somethin’ wrong baby?” his voice deep, hoarse and low. something exciting spiking through your veins, making you more awake.

you knew, if he was more alert he wouldn’t have called you that.

you try not to think why you feel miffed by that fact.

“jus’ some water please.” you call softly from your bed.

he yawns again, rubbing his flat belly, “okay.” he breathes, walking in the darkness of your room with practiced ease.

you hear the small sounds of clanks in the kitchen, and the fridge being pulled open.

he knew you liked you water cold. he knew where your drinking glasses were. he knew where you keep the salves. he knew your apartment in the dark.

in the beginning, especially after your relationship ended, you associated this binding promise as an act of forceful requirement. at best, you see it as a favour you give to a stranger. but lately, especially in the quiet of your house, the pet names that keeps slipping out of his mouth as of late—you start to dangerously think of this as something else. as something more. as something painfully familiar.

he comes back quiet, siting on the bed near your thighs, as he hands you the cool, moist glass. his hair was tousled more than usual. there were sleeping marks on his face. he was probably already asleep before you needed him here.

you feel a little bit guilty, but you see his flushed cheeks through the soft glow of the moon outside your window, and the hooded gaze he desperately tries to keep open. you fight back a smile instead.

“is that all, baby?” his hand softly smoothing your hair at the back of your head. your room felt ridiculously warm.

“thank you.” you murmured before setting the glass on the bedside table.

he gives you one last sleepy smile, eyes closed and his hair toppling over his eyes. “okay, if that’s all—“

“are you going back?” you cut in, holding his wrist, your finger on his pulse. keeping him seated before he could even stand. before his warmth leaves your bed.

“i don’t have to..” he offers. like always, giving you the choice to draw the line.

you hesitate before you answer, letting go of his wrist, “it’s late..” and that’s all you say, and apparently that’s all he needs.

“is it alright then, if i stay the night? then i can leave in the morning?” he whispers back. his warm hand, touching your thigh over the covers. he felt so far away.

you don’t do this, not usually. but in the dark space of your room you feel more confident. more assured. braver.

you move slightly to the side, giving him space, “if you want.” conveniently forgetting the existence of the spare room. choosing to blame it on the lack of sleep.

he smiles, moving the covers. the short moment of exposure making you shiver in the cold. he notices, quickly sliding into bed with you. arms stiffly on his sides and yours crossed across your chest.

still not brave enough.

you feel him shuffle, laying on his side and facing you. his fingers just barely grazing your sides in a soft touch.

you fell asleep faster than any other night, hearing him breath near your ear.

you dream of a teary conversation from a time not so long ago, of desperate pleas not to leave you. and when you feel his arm curl around your waist. you dreaming of nothing for the rest of night.

the next morning, you woke up later than you would have, and see the too empty space next to you. the pang in your chest, grossly familiar.

it had been a month since the night he’s stayed with you. not a breath has been acknowledged about that night. choosing to ignore the lingering tension, the long stares and the awkward dispositions.

you don’t know whether to feel relieved or frustrated.

of course, your friends had noticed this - because hadn’t they been analyzing each of your move when it comes to sirius black?

dorcas eventually had to force it out of you. to which pandora squealed and teased you in delight. insistent of the blooming change in your relationship.

“blooming change?” you repeated.

“what? it’s poetic!” she argues.

“it’s dumb,” regulus calls out. “y/n isn’t the kind to return to an ex, especially not to my dumb brother, right y/n?” he looks so earnestly confident. so much so that you couldn’t even lie to agree with him. truth be told, you have no idea if you were even the type to go back, regardless if it was reggie’s dumb brother or not.

because sirius has been your first boyfriend and if this bind continues on, he might be your last. you don’t know if that’s a good thing, all things considered.

everyone has turned to you now, in varying degrees of smugness, amusement, pride and playful pity.

dorcas laughs, saving you from answering. “i don’t know reggie, seems like y/n’s getting a little swayed.”

reggie reacts for you, as if offended. “she is not! she is actively going on dates and meeting new people.”

“oh?” dorcas smirked.

barty, sitting up straighter, “doesn’t he have a room here or something?”

you say, “no,“ “yes.” pandora quips, at the same time.

you rolled your eyes, “it’s a guest room—“

“one that conveniently went unused in one random night.” evan hummed, smirking, as he blew his smoke out the window.

pandora and dorcas ooh’ed.

“it was late! he was practically dragging himself from the floor, i couldn’t let him hurt himself after i interrupted his sleep, a-and he was already there, it’d be rude not to—i don’t even know why i’m explaining myself to you!— i don’t have to explain myself, because i did nothing wrong.” your met with four amused looks and one gut wrenchingly, disappointed one.

dorcas clicked her tongue, “i don’t know why you’re even fighting it at this point.”

“what do you mean by that?”

“i mean, you clearly want to be with him still.”

you sputter, sitting straighter, indignant as you say, “what gave you that idea?”

“the longing gaze.”

“acting all shy.” barty adds.

“the late night rendezvous,” evan hums.

“giving him his own room.” pandora pointedly looked at you.

“the inability to pursue any other relationship after him.” regulus tutted.

you gasp, betrayed. “even you reggie?”

regulus rolled his eyes, crossing his arms and legs, “i am running out of eligible acquaintances to set you up with, you know.”

you don’t even know how to respond to that.

frankly you can’t. because you know they were right, and dammit if that didn’t hurt your pride just a little.

still, ridiculously hung up on an ex that didn’t even love you. a joke, really.

but you relish in the idea of sirius being near you. it sends a certain tingle down your spine just knowing he’ll arrive anytime, and be there for you. you like how he always stands so close to you even if he doesn’t have to. you like how you don’t have to tell him what he has to do before he does it. you like the pet names naturally slipping past his pretty mouth. how he’s always touching you in some way. how familiar it feels. the habits, the conversations, the feelings—how easy it all seems.

but it isn’t. you know it isn’t.

because you’ve tried and failed.

you fell for him, loved him the way you know how. leaving nothing for yourself as you give everything for him. loving him with no expectations for him to do the same. and so, he doesn’t.

he couldn’t love you back. at least not in the way you entirely feel for him.

he couldn’t look past his life and the experiences he’d endured just to reach that moment in the past. it wrecked you. you didn’t expect anything, but it still hurt when you got nothing for everything you had.

you don’t like the reminder, but you know you need it. you know how destroying it is to forget. you’ve tried being with him already and it didn’t work. you say this to them, whispered, as if ashamed.

you don’t even feel the tears sliding down your check as you say this.

dorcas’ smile dropped and pandora immediately sat down beside you.

“hey, you know it won’t be like that again.” pandora rubbing your shoulders.

“do i?” you rasped. “what’s so different about now than before? what’s to stop us from breaking up again?”

“it’s going to be different because you are different, and so is he.” dorcas said. “you were just teenagers, you barely knew yourselves back then. you weren’t ready for each other yet. he had issues to work out, and you had to grow up a little to understand that.”

you sniffled, “and you think we’re ready.”

“yes,” they all said.

dorcas reaching over and squeezing your hand, “i know you’re both ready.”

you shake your head, you don’t know if that’s true, “our forced proximity lasted longer than our actually relationship. and it’s only lasted this long because it’s just that—forced.”

pandora shook her head, dangling earrings clinking together. “that’s not true. it’s lasted this long because you wanted it to. you both wanted it to.”

evan nodded, smothering his cigarette butt and throwing it outside, “i, personally, wouldn’t want to spend any second with any of my exes, but you both didn’t even try finding any sort of solution to break the promise.”

barty gives you an awkward smile, as evan continues “if you had wanted to call it quits you would’ve found a way to end all of this the moment he had broken up with you. but you didn’t—“

“that’s because i couldn’t—“

“don’t lie,” regulus cut in, pouting, looking a bit like a petulant child. “we all know you could have found something in this ridiculously large library of yours.”

“why are you suddenly advocating for sirius and i to get back together again?”

regulus clicked his tongue, looking away. a slight flush on his cheeks. “i’m not advocating anything.” he huffs. “he’s an idiot who doesn’t deserve you. but if it’s sirius that ultimately makes you happy. then so be it.”

you swallow a lump, breathing a staggering breath, “i don’t know if he even—“

“he does.” regulus looking at you, eyes clear and sure. “he wouldn’t be so cross with me for setting you up with dates if he doesn’t.”

that same night, sirius, for once, was not summoned by you but of a call from regulus.

he already feels the natural flare of irritation, bracing himself for another round of teasing hums and provoking stories about how you’re on a date in an exclusive restaurant, with a bloke who’s ready to give you everything you need.

standing up from james’ couch, going to the kitchen to block the noise from the muggle telley, as remus called it. then accepting the call,

“i swear if you’re calling just to gloat about another conquest you’ve put her through then—“

“she needs you.” regulus slurred.

feeling an immediate spike in his heartbeat. already grabbing his jacket and hurrying to the front door to leave.

“we’re in a pub, bring your motorbike or something, she can’t apparate right now, too drunk.”

“i’ll be there in 10.” grabbing remus’ keys off a bowl in the entrance.

“oi, where the hell are you taking my car?” remus shrieked from the couch.

without looking back, “she needs me.”

peter whines from the living room, “but the game-!”

and he only slams the door close as a response.

“we’re in the east village, near a fountain.” regulus sluggishly explained before hanging up.

sirius wasn’t the best driver. in hindsight, he probably should have asked remus to drive him to you. but this was about you. he could hardly think about anything else when it comes to you. he would do anything for you, binding promise or not.

he found it particularly odd and extremely worrying, why you’re drinking on a thursday night. he knew you couldn’t handle your alcohol well, always ending up drinking too much and passing out.

considering regulus had to call him to come get you didn’t help his nerves as he drove faster than the limit allowed.

when he arrived expecting the worse, he found himself smiling at the sight of you.

you were laying your head on regulus lap as you both sat on the bench. he can hear barty and pandora trying to lift each other. dorcas and evan cheering them on.

but all he can see is you laying there. eyes closed and cheeks darkly flushed, dress splaying over your thighs. regulus smoothing your hair, lulling you to sleep. when he met his brother’s eyes. the younger black rolled his eyes and beckoned him over.

“took you long enough.” regulus grumbled, now sounding sober than when he called.

“is she okay?” sirius asks, crouching down and staring at your sleeping face for any signs of discomfort or pain.

regulus sighs, “just got a bit carried away, this one. she was… upset tonight so we let her have her fun an—“

“upset?” sirius cuts, couldn’t help the finger tracing your cheek and jaw. your nose twitching at his action. “why was she upset?”

regulus waves his hand, making vague gestures but offering no explanation. sirius frowns.

“i can take her home,” standing up, now as he calls out to the others. “does anybody else need a ride?”

all four heads, shook their heads and offered varying words of thanks. “you reggie?”

“don’t bother, i’m perfectly capable.” he tuts. “be careful of that metal beast.”

with slow movements, sirius slides his arms under your neck and the back of your thighs. making sure your dress stay tucked and you comfortably napping before lifting you up.

once lifted, your head turns to the crevice of his neck, burying your nose and breathing in deep. wrapping your own arms around his neck with practiced ease and familiarity.

his heart thrumming and slowing all the same. he likes you like this, so close to him and looking so content as you do now.

nodding his goodbyes to the others, as he walks to the car again. opening the car door proved to be a challenge what with an armful of you. but he managed to do so without jostling you too much. he didn’t want to wake you, but such actions proved to be futile as the moment you were placed in the passenger seat, you froze awake.

he tries to appease you with a gentle smile, brushing your hair behind your ear. “hi love, i’m getting you home today, is that alright?”

“siri?” you rasp, looking at him like he wasn’t real. his chest pounding as he sees your eyes glossing and shining with unshed tears. he immediately crouch down in front of you, grabbing of your hands, and peppering soft kisses on your knuckles.

“what is it, my love, why are you crying?”

“you’re here?”

he nodded, kissing your knuckles again. “i’m here.”

you said nothing, just staring at him. looking so lost and tearful. he feels a little guilty thinking you to be heart-clenchingly adorable, right now. looking so soft and precious, the urge to stay the night in the parking lot and just stare at you was strong but he knows he has to take you home, else you get sick.

he thought you were to say nothing else. so, he stood to close the door and head to the driver’s seat but you whined. tugging at his hand still in your clasp and pull him to you. tucking his head into your neck and burying your hand in his hair.

this is entering dangerous territories now, he thinks. one he very much like to continue venturing but he knows you weren’t sound of mind right now. so he refrains from touching you anymore than he has. his hands desperately clutching to the cold, hard car, substituting for your soft, pretty skin.

you whine, “don’t go.”

“‘m not going anywhere, baby. i’m just going to the seat next to you.” he mumbled, his lips agonizingly grazing your skin, he ignores the way your body shivers and the filthy thoughts that come with it. his hands gripping the car tighter.

“next to me?”

“yes, next to you.”

you eventually let him go, but not without constant coaxing.

he drives, slow and steady. avoiding potholes and uneven roads. you fell asleep again, from the slow, quiet drive and the soft, mellow music coming from the radio.

then sooner than he had liked, he parks in front of your house. he kills the engine and he whispers his calls to you. not sure whether he wants you awake to be feeling okay enough to walk or asleep so he can touch you again.

he moves when you stay quiet, doing everything he can to keep you from waking up. letting out a soft hiss each time a creak or a thump echoes in your quiet house.

when he finally, finally reaches your bedroom and lays you there, he’s quick to take off your shoes. then the realization of his next move taunts him. although, you looked very pretty with your dress, he doesn’t know if he should change your clothes into something more comfortable for you.

he knew an intense hungover when he sees one. getting up to change clothes isn’t pleasant with a raging headache. he stares at your laying figure. the thin strap of your dress slipped down, and your legs looking longer than he remembers.

he looks away before he sees anymore. it didn’t feel right, looking at you that way. especially whilst unconscious.

he open your dresser, knowing the drawer you keep your pajamas.

he sees a familiar, more faded than he remembers, shirt he always wore. the thought of you wearing his clothes makes him too happy and giddy for an adult man.

he fights his heart from beating too loudly. afraid you’ll hear. bites his lips to stop his giddy grin, and forces his eyes to focus on his search. but eventually did land on his old shirt and some long bottoms so you’d be warm.

he slid the bottoms first. careful not to touch your skin but very much feeling the heat of your thigh. he held his breath as he reached the curve of your bum. stopping and not knowing what to do next. with one arm he lifts you slightly off the bed. and with his eyes clenched tight, fast and frantic hands—holding his breath as he went to pull it up.

next was his your shirt. he had you sit up, head laying heavy on his shoulders. softly pulling back from you to slip the shirt over your head before letting you lean into him again. guiding your arms and pulling the soft tee down.

with a bated breath, he feels for the zipper at the back of your dress.

fingers touching and sliding over your back. the touch leaving a lingering static in his fingers. when he clutched the thin tiny thing, he slide it down. slowly, careful not to pinch your skin.

he hears you sigh from relief, letting himself smile, knowing he did a good job.

he lets you lay back down, properly this time, slip off your dress, cleans your face with a warm wet face towel.

he knows he should go. he knows to let you get your rest and sleep. knows he should return remus’ car. knows the lads are probably waiting for him. but there is no urge to leave. instead he stares at your clean bare face, the soft lines and pretty marks on your face just adds more to your allure.

he didn’t know how long he stared at you. it could’ve been a minute to a full hour, too busy studying your face, seeing all the new marks and the familiar ones, committing them to memory.

he was about to leave, lest he bothers you and wake you up. but you stirred.

stretching as you did so. and blearily stared at him. expectant and quiet.

your voice hoarse but genuine all the same. “it’s late..” he knew what you mean. the unspoken invitation, just like last time.

and he wants to—god he wants to.

“i can’t baby,” you were drunk, he wasn’t. it wouldn’t be fair.

“you’re leaving again?”

that did him in, slumping down on the bed. rubbing your outer thigh through your covers. “i’ll stay then, just rest.”

“but you’ll just leave me like last time.” you mumbled.

he gives you a lopsided smile, apologetic and painfully endeared all the same, “i had to, my love, i had work.”

“no,” you breathed, softly shaking your head, letting out a staggering breath like you were going to cry. “i meant the first time.” you whispered.

it was shameful the way he slowly realized what you had meant. you didn’t sound angry or bitter. or even resentful even if you had all the rights to.

he didn’t respond. letting your words stew in his mind. the quiet in the entire house emphasized by the ringing in his ears. he didn’t know what to say.

what words you were waiting for him to say. what words he can say to make it all better.

he didn’t even know you still think about that. still thinking about your relationship, and what had happened, and why it ended the way it did.

still thinking about it like him, who sometimes find it difficult to sleep thinking about you and the pain he caused you. the regret heavy in his veins like lead.

he should apologize, probably beg or grovel about the way it ended.

he was about to.

but he hears your soft breathing again. the stillness in your body, only sleep can make that he realizes he’s lost his chance.

again.

he rubbed your thighs, still. hoping to lull you into a deeper sleep. he grabbed a glass of cold water and put a statis charm so it would stay cool. he petted your hair, and caressed your cheek. it was painful, and he struggled. but he eventually left. feeling the same amount of fulfilled and disappointment altogether.

it was the next morning where sirius was beckoned again, this time not by a call from his baby brother but by the usual pull of your magic. he had expected as much, even fixed up his hair and wore fresh clean clothes and even put on perfume.

he did it whenever he could. in case you were to need him.

he even has a couple of hungover potion in his pocket just in case.

when he got summoned, popping into your familiar bedroom like the nights and mornings before. he was greeted with you still buried under the covers, eyebrows scrunched and eyes already open. you looked like you’ve been awake for some time now, but still refused to move.

you looked so tired and groggy and so soft and warm and homely and pretty.

someone with a hungover shouldn’t look as good as you did. but you are. he ignores the flutters in his stomach, tightening into a coil and puts on an easy smile.

“good morning dizzy girl.” he sing songs. plopping down on your bed, making sure to bounce you a little as he did.

you groan some more, turning away from him, holding your head.

he softly laughs. reaching over to smooth out your hair, “did you drink water?”

“hn.”

he took that as a no.

“up you go, c’mon. drink, you’ll feel better.” he grabs the glass. still filled full and cool like last night.

sliding his rough hands under your neck and the other to your back. slowly sitting you up so you can drink. you give little to no protest at all at his touch and considers this a win. his lips feeling a little wobbly as he fights a smile.

you took a small sip and then a larger gulp, sighing after finishing the whole glass.

“i also have a hangover potion and a headache one that lily made, so you know it’s good—“

“you left again.” you rasped, a small frown on your pretty face, still turned away from him.

he stops.

it suddenly dawns on him how you’ve yet to look at him, or greet him like you do when he always appears. he chalked it up to you being hungover or the highly probable headache you must have. not sulking, or possible moping over the fact that he hadn’t waited for you until morning.

he feels his heart take up larger room than normal in his chest. the loud thrumming under his veins as his magic comes to life, the burning desire of it all, the ringing in his ears, his pulse loud and the heat coming to his face.

you weren’t playing fair.

“i’m sorry,” he whispers, scooting near you. reaching out to wrap his arms around your shoulders, then lightly tugging you to him, to lean on him like you did the night before. it was through his absolute delight that you let him.

giving him the courage to continue his ministrations.

“you said you’d stay.” you softly whined, voice muffled by his neck. your hands gripping his shirt.

so unfair.

he’s fully hugging you now. he tries to fight the sigh that threatens to come out of his mouth from having you in his arms again.

he hadn’t expected for you to remember last night, what with constantly falling asleep. he should’ve prepared for it though.

“i’m sorry.” he repeats. this more graver than the last. this apology carrying more weight and more reason, when he remembers your last question.

“you always leave.” he feels something wet touch his neck. his hearts clench, the image of your tears too clear for him. “always leaving me.”

he tries to lean back to get a good look on you but once you felt him move away, you tightened your grip. now wrapping your own arms around his waist. sirius doesn’t know how to feel. suddenly wrapped in your warmness and the familiar feeling and the guilt that you’re crying over him.

again.

causing you pain, again.

“i know, i’m sorry.” he hates that it’s all he can say. hates he can’t say anything else.

so you ask, “why?”

why?

he knows what you’re asking isn’t about why he’s sorry for leaving. he knows you’re asking something else. one withheld from you from the very beginning.

why do keep calling me nicknames?

why do keep touching me?

why do i feel this way?

why can’t you stay?

why did you leave?

why didn’t you love me back?

there’s a lot of answers he’s withheld from you but he starts from the one heavy on his mind.

he suddenly wonders if you’ve been left wondering too.

if it keeps you up at night, and having no one to answer it. if it eats you up and if you regret being with him, the same way he regrets ever leaving you.

“i didn’t think that— you would want me to stay, after what i did. i didn’t dare myself to even think you could still want me— or even be around my presence at all.” he says this quiet and so close to your ear.

you let him go now, leaning against the bed post instead.

sirius instantly wishing for you to come back into his arms again, but he refrains.

“you thought i didn’t want you?”

“who would?” he laughs, albeit a bit self-deprecating but hoping you’ll take it as a joke. you only frown. “sirius, of course i would still want you. you’re the best thing that happened to me.” your eyes looked so clear then, so sure.

so sure it burns him.

“but i hurt you. i caused you pain, i’ve disappointed you again and again—“

“you didn’t disappoint me.” you grab his hands, your touch still so soft like he remembers it. “i was hurt, yes, but that wasn’t your fault. it was my own fault for giving you more than what you were comfortable with.”

he shook his head, frowning hard. “don’t do that.”

“what?”

“be understanding,” he laughs, incredulous. “taking responsibility for me being a shitty boyfriend to you for being a complete arse to you.”

“you did what you could. what with everything you went through?”

he turns away, but you grab his face with your other hand, and tilts his chin up.

“all the things you’ve had to endure? i know you try to hide your struggles with it all. but i see you. i see all the things, all the extra steps you have to take to become better than what your parents set you out for. and now look at you, making it out on your own. making new friends, no trace of the anger and bitterness they tried so hard to embed in you. i loved you for it all, and i understood why you couldn’t, even if it hurt. because that’s how people love. you love someone even if they have all the capabilities to hurt you more than anything in the world— and i have loved you for so long. and i might’ve not understood this when we were younger, but i do now. i wasn’t asking for apologies because i’ve long forgiven you for everything in the past. but i wanted to know what it is you felt. why you felt the need to hide the reasons from me.”

he lets out a breath he didn’t know he was holding.

you let his face go. but he grabs it. incasing your hand in his.

mind sticking to one thing he feared.

loved?

has he lost his chance again?

have you deemed him unnecessary?

“you don’t—?” he sighs, stopping himself, that wasn’t important right now. especially not if you were looking at him, looking so patient.

he started slow, contemplative if he can articulate it well enough for you to understand. “i didn’t think i could ever be capable of love, or be anyone you could ever want and need. because you’re amazing. when you said you loved me for the first time, i thought i was dooming you. my family. my circumstances. i thought i was going to ruin you and i couldn’t live with the thought of doing that to you. so i thought that leaving would be for the best. i tried to leave. tried and convinced myself it was for you. that i had to let you go for you. but i couldn’t do it. selfish as it is, i couldn’t let you go.

“i even found a way to stop the bind, but thinking that my last connection with you would be gone, and you would forget about me—have a life without me there, i couldn’t. because, because i love you. i have loved you from the moment you smiled at me. it terrified me, how much i love you and how much i was willing to do anything for you. i love you more than i could ever understand and i’m sorry if i couldn’t say it that time, i’m sorry if this is a bit late, but i love being needed by you. i love being around you. i-i need you, more than you could ever need me.”

he didn’t notice the tears spilling to his cheeks before you wiped it away for him.

your eyes looking so soft.

“you love me?” you breathed.

as if it was unbelievable.

as if it wasn’t possible.

sirius hates himself a little more at the thought he might have caused some insecurity for you.

because it was ridiculous.

“i love you.” and like a broken record, he repeats it. again and again and again. much firmer than the last.

and you smile, so big and beautiful. and your eyes shining and so pretty. it was like the sun was shining so much brighter that day. like the clouds were opening up in the sky and bathing you in a golden glow.

he repeats it again, because he’s spent so many years holding himself back. and if your reaction is the same every time he says it then he’ll say it everyday. with every sentence, with every greeting, with every meal you cook for him. with every night he picks you up from a pub absolutely sloshed. with every irritating conversation he has with his baby brother. with every teasing quips from the lads. with every secret smile you give him. every time he touches you, every time he looks at you. because gods, don’t you look absolutely magnificent and unbelievable right now.

“i love you,” he repeats.

“i love you too.” you laugh. like your smile was getting too wide and too happy that you had to laugh.

and his heart soars. couldn’t stop himself even if he tried, as he leans in and captures your lips like he’s done so many times before.

thinking himself a proper idiot if he ever thought he could ever live without touching your lips ever again.

he touches your face like he did the night before. he grabs your waist like he always does. and he tilts your heads like a time before. he tastes a salty thing as your tears slides near his lips and he relishes in its taste.

he feels the warmth spreading to his entire face and body. feels the humming of his magic intertwining with yours. your soft mouth moving against him. and the stretch of your lips, smiling into the kiss.

he pulls away even if he didn’t want to.

“i love you,” he says again, and you smile at him so sweetly.

he repeats it because of your pretty smile.

and again. because he can.

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starlostastronaut · 4 months

Text

DAY 16 | YOUR SWORD AND SHIELD

PAIRING: lee minho x reader

GENRE: spy au

WC: 1.14k

CW: blood and injury, reader is shot, brief crossfire (nothing is too graphic but its there)

PROMPT: "this is going to hurt like a bitch but i have to stitch up that wound"

soft minho hours! well, kinda lol (you'll see what i mean haha). he fits the spy au so much, i'm honestly happy i have one more spy au with him to do, because spy!minho is my new favourite thing. anyway, second post of the day, enjoy <3

title from meet me on the battlefield - svrcina

general masterlist here

<< previous | mctc masterlist | next >>

"Fuck!” Minho yelled, ducking back behind the wall. He gripped his gun tighter, pressing as much of his body into the wall as he could. He looked to the side, where you were in a very similar position. He immediately noticed the grimace on your face. “Are you hurt?” he whispered, looking at your hand that was pressing on your other arm unusually strongly.

You swallowed a curse and shook your head. Minho shrugged and didn't question it further, deciding to check how many bullets he had left.

Once he turned his head away, you let out something between a sigh and a moan. Your arm was on fire, and Minho couldn't know. He would worry too much, and you wouldn't complete your mission. You had to just suck it up and not let him know you were injured. Which was easier said than done when there was a bullet in your upper arm, but you would manage. You had worse injuries. After making sure Minho was busy, you checked your bullets too, hoping you didn't smear too much blood over the gun.

Next to you, Minho stood up again, firing back at your opponents. You joined him, and after a successful hit that incapacitated two of their shooters, you saw a chance to run. And Minho did too. He looked around for any snipers, but it seemed nobody was there. “Let's go before they start again,” he said, grabbing your arm and dragging you away, retreating to an empty office building nearby. You had to bite the inside of your cheek to not cry out in pain because his hand wrapped around your arm exactly in the place where the bullet was. You couldn’t hold a pain hiss, but you convinced Minho that he just grabbed you too strongly. He loosened his grip but kept his hold on you. You knew he just wanted to make sure you were with him and that he hadn't lost you when you were running, but your anxiety worsened with every second. You prayed to everyone who would listen to not let him discover the wound.

Once you were inside, he let go of you, and you sighed in relief, both at the pressure being gone and at being safe. Or, as safe as an agent hiding from their enemies can be. Minho eventually turned on his flashlight as he led you further into the building to the basement. It wasn't accidental that he chose this specific building. One of the many tunnels had an entrance in the boiler room. You stayed close to Minho, covering him from behind, your uninjured hand ready to pull out your gun at any moment.

Inside the boiler room, Minho locked the door behind you, letting his guard down a little. He hid his flashlight and turned on the light in the room. And then he froze, looking at his hand. You looked over to see what happened, and your whole body tensed. On his palm, there was a smear of red. Minho turned his head toward you.

“They got you, didn't they?” he asked, phrasing it more as a statement than a question. You knew there was no point in denying it now, not when there was clear evidence all over his hands.

You nodded. “In the crossfire. I didn't duck fast enough,” you murmured. “But it's fine, it's not even bleeding that-”

“Sit.” Minho pointed to an iron table pushed next to the wall. The room was old and no longer in use, so the agents brought in several things, such as medical equipment, weapons, spare gear, and all other sorts of things, using it as storage for everything they might need when using the tunnels. You rolled your eyes; you were perfectly fine to make it back to the base, where you could get proper medical care. But you knew that arguing with Minho was pointless, so you hopped on the table, waiting for him to find what he needed.

As your center of gravity moved, though, your head spinned. Oh. Maybe the wound was worse than it seemed. Minho came back soon, setting a few bandages and a bottle of alcohol next to you. He carefully took off your jacket, exposing your arm. Blood was smeared everywhere, drying with sweat mixed into it. Out of the darker spot, fresh blood was coming out, but there was less of it than before. Minho took a good look at it, cursing under his breath. He was running high on adrenaline and worry, but he still touched you with the utmost gentleness, being very careful with your arm.

“I need to get that out,” he decided. “It will hurt like a bitch, but I can't have you bleeding out on the way back to the base.” You knew he was right, though you were pretty sure you wouldn't bleed out. Either way, more blood loss only meant more complications. Minho reached for the bottle of alcohol, pouring a bit of it on the surgical forceps he found in the medical supplies kept in here. “I'm sorry,” he said, and then, without a warning, he poured at least half of the bottle onto your arm. Unprepared, you cried out, immediately covering your mouth with your other hand. You were safely locked in here, but the other agents could be scouting the building, and you couldn't let them discover the tunnels. Biting on your fist to keep yourself from making any sounds, you let Minho carefully take out the bullet stuck in your arm. He was as gentle as he could, but it still hurt. Closing your eyes, you let him work, focusing on your breathing to keep yourself occupied.

“It's done,” Minho announced after a while, finishing wrapping a bandage around your arm. He wiped his hands on his trousers, then looked at you, cupping your cheek with his hand to swipe his thumb over the single tear falling down your cheek. You let your head fall forward on his shoulder. Minho let you stay like that for a moment, but then he helped you back down on your feet. You still had a long way to the base, and you weren’t safe here.

You found it sweet, the way he worried about you. It was sometimes dangerous out in the field because Minho would drop everything the moment you were in life-threatening danger, but it also made you stronger as a team because you knew you could trust him with your life.

He pressed a quick kiss on your temple. “You'll be okay. Let's get you back to the base where Seungmin can take care of you properly,” he said, placing one hand on the small of your back to support you, ready to catch you if you fell. Together, you made your way towards the entrance to the tunnels.

taglist: @stayconnecteed @saintriots @vivioluh @ivaneedssleep @jazziwritesthings @darkypooo

#moony's countdown to christmas #mctc #stray kids x reader #lee minho x reader #lee know x reader #lee minho #lee know

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queenendless · 8 months

Text

💗Simping (Student!Geto x Fem!Student!Reader)💗

A/N: More pieces from my Curses Love book on Wattpad are gonna keep coming here like this one.

Teenage, student Suguru Geto is the finest JJK character; aside from Gojo, there is. And I will simp him forever~! Ergo this!

Yeah this is gonna be needed when S2 does its full run and we have to wait 2 or so more years for S3 and beyond. And I get the jist of what's gonna go down. And when it does ... Hurt/comfort/wholesome/lovey dovey/smexy stuff, in you go!

All credit for the characters/series/photos goes to Gege sensei. Please don't steal or copy my work but rather like and rebIog. I hope whosoever reads this enjoys.

"Why does he gotta be so fine~?" You gushed softly to Shoko as your enamored gaze looked over to the form fitting handsome Suguru Geto.

"The whole package." Shoko mused with a cigarette between her lips.

"I mean he's broad, wise, tall, kind, handsome, broad –" You listed all the pros.

"Satoru is his bestie, tied at the hip." Shoko stated the biggest con.

"I can hear you, you know." Geto side glanced at you; flattery overtaking his expression like a light blush.

"We can all hear you~!" Gojo yelled, annoyed. "And I'm the biggest dub there is!"

"Busted." Shoko dully sang in your ear.

Suguru hummed in intrigue as he strided over to you, leaning over your desk. "How about now?"

"Still fine." Your shy, affectionate smile made his heart skip in joy; your two other friends watching in much intrigue.

"You're just as fine." Geto's small grin made you blush hard; his tall stature made goosebumps rake your skin at his imposing presence.

"Suguru, I ..." You started standing up to meet him head on.

"Yes?" His eyes crinkled with mirth as his bangs tickled your face, making you giggle.

"I ... I like you." You sighed sweetly as his face leaned down closer to reach yours; his hands brushing yours gently.

"I like you too ... Y/n." His fingers intertwined with yours, smiling warmly.

"L/n~! Suguru~! Can't I get in on the action ~!?" Gojo butted in, whining.

"No." You both stubbornly refute.

"Then get a room!" Satoru pouted, crossed at being left out of your PDA, while Shoko took some snapshots of the entire scene for proof to tease you later.

"I like it when you smile." He chuckled at your face that brightened in that moment. "Prime example~!"

"Will do." Suguru pulled you out of the classroom right away by hand, keeping an arm around your form flushed against his as he opened and closed the sliding door, spinning you both around, making you laugh at his action. "I like it when you laugh."

"Y/n ... would you like to go out with me?"

" ... on one condition."

Geto looked taken back, surprised, a tad bit worried. "What?"

You coyly smiled as your hands; still interwoven with his, reached up behind his head, bringing it down as you got on your tiptoes to at last kiss him fully.

While hesitant and tepid at first, you were taken back at how soft and warm he felt. You nearly yelped in the kiss as his hands left yours against his neck while they situated around your waist, pulling you flush against his big broad build, kissing back with a hum of content as his lips submerged yours.

Lost in the comforting, fuzzy sensation.

It all felt right. He ... feels right.

After a few more drawn out moments, you two parted, breathing deeply against each other, his forehead resting against yours, his eyes blazing deeply into yours.

You softly confess. "Okay."

Geto chuckled. "That's all it took to convince you?"

You blinked, thought it over, then nodded. "Yeah."

You then glomped him around his torso, humming in content burying your face in between his pecs. "Big boy Geto, yas~"

Geto blushed, embarrassed yet touched by the praise, embracing you in return, as the muffled whooping cheers of Gojo from the other side of the door had him bury his beet red face in your hair from extreme bashfulness. "Oh boy."

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late-to-the-party-81 · 1 month

Text

Her Alpha

AN: It’s Alpha Steve time!It feels good to be updating all my series 😀 This fits in between Surprise, Surprise and Birthday Gifts

@noseyrosey1597 asked: I’m obsessed with Alpha nomad Steve and his omega. Could you possibly do a one shot where she meets the team? Maybe she doesn’t like Tony

Endless thanks to my beta, @endlesstwanted. Likes are loved, reblogs are golden. Mood board by me and dividers by @firefly-graphics

Join my tag list here

Bingo and Challenge fills:

@steverogersbingo - A1 - Alpha Steve

Master list | SRB Master list | Series Master list

Summary: It’s not even been 24 hours since you and Steve were reunited, but it’s the start of the next chapter - you’re moving in with him at the Avengers Compound, which also means it’s time to meet the team. You’ve just got to hope you can keep your pregnancy hormones under control.

Relationship: Alpha Steve x Pregnant Omega Reader

Word count: 2.8k

CW: A/B/O, Sexual content (P in V sex, pregnancy sex, knotting), Steve’s dirty talk, smidge Angst, hormonal and aggressive Omega Reader, Pet names (Omega, sweetheart, Mama).

You woke up, an almost long forgotten feeling of contentment suffusing you, and turned within the pair of thick arms that held you. With a sigh you looked up into the face of Steve, your Alpha. You lifted your hand and smoothed a lock of his hair back from his forehead, marvelling at the sheer beauty of him. It was almost criminal, the way his long eyelashes kissed his freckled skin. A happy chirp made its way out of your throat and Steve stirred, pulling you tighter to his body.

If it weren’t for the ache on your neck, or the echoing one between your legs, you’d still believe this was a dream. Five months had gone without you seeing each other, longer than anytime before, but now the sporadic visits were finally over. The Accords were rescinded, Steve was no longer a criminal on the run and you could truly be together. Today Steve would be taking you to where he lived, the Avengers Compound in upstate New York, and you wouldn’t have to put up with this shitty, damp apartment anymore. You’d have a nice place to live, access to a state of the art medical facility for when your pup (or pups) came, and you’d get to meet all of Steve’s friends. What a difference a day made.

You sighed again and tilted your head to press your lips against Steve’s. His eyes were still closed, but you knew he wasn’t fully asleep because he deepened the kiss almost immediately and a muscular thigh, covered in coarse hair, pushed its way between your legs. You rocked against it as he kissed you, despite the fact that it increased the ache that was there. You welcomed the mild discomfort because it meant he was really here with you.

“Morning, ‘Mega,” Steve mumbled against your lips. He rolled onto his back and pulled you with him so you were straddling his hips, his morning wood slotting against your sex. Your fingers threaded into the slightly too long hair at the nap of his neck and he let out a pleasured growl.

“Morning, Alpha,” you purred as you lightly ground down onto him. You were wet already, a combination of being back in your Alpha’s arms along with being in your second trimester - your libido had picked up and Steve couldn’t have returned at a better time.

“Ready to leave this all behind?” he asked as his large hands landed on your hips and helped you move back and forth over his length, covering it in your arousal.

“Mmm-hmm,” you confirmed. “Although I’m not ready to leave this bed yet. There’s something I wanna do first.” You lifted your body, took Steve in hand and then sunk back down, a feeling of bliss suffusing your whole being. You were glad that it hadn’t been that long since he was last inside you so that you didn’t need to go through any arduous prep.

“Oh, sweetheart. Fuck.” You very rarely took the lead like this - you blamed your hormones - and Steve’s eyes rolled back in his head. “That’s it, Mama. Ride me. Take what you need. Look so god-damn sexy, carrying my pups. If I could I fuck some more into you. Jeez.”

The power trip was making you dizzy with arousal. You wanted him to lose his mind due to his want and desire for you. He was your Alpha - your mate. You were pregnant with his pups, and now you were going to start the rest of your life together this very day.

As you rocked atop him, Steve ran a hand up your body to cup one of your breasts. His thumb flicked over your engorged nipple and you gasped at the sensation as your body clenched around his length. Your whole body was much more sensitive now.

“Steve,” you keened, and sped up your movements. “So close, Alpha. Make me come, please!” You knew he was close as well because you could feel his swelling knot teasing your entrance.

“Your wish is my command, Omega.” His other hand dropped to your clit and he drew matching circles over it, both hands working in tandem on different parts of your body to pull you over the edge. You moaned loudly as the pleasure hit, rocking back and forth on his cock as your pussy spasmed. A second dart of pleasure hit you as Steve’s knot popped and you felt his cum fill you up. Steve’s noises of ecstacy merged with yours as your movements slowed and then finally stilled. You collapsed on top of him, breathing heavily, your bodies still joined together.

“We don’t need to pack up until this afternoon, do we?” you asked. Steve chuckled, his body jiggling yours as he did.

“You don’t need to do anything, Omega. I can sort it out while you’re having a nap.” He pressed a kiss to the top of your head.

“Oh, good,” you replied and then let out a yawn. “I find myself worn out for some reason.”

“I wonder why,” Steve replied with a snort. “Now relax. Let your Alpha deal with all the mundane stuff.

As the car made its way up the long drive leading to the large, white compound, you felt your stomach flutter in anticipation. You’d never met the other Avengers, having only encountered Steve by chance just before he went on the run. It had been like one of those moments from an old movie, where your eyes had met across a crowded room. You’d approached each other warily, sensing a connection but being sensibly cautious. Then you’d each caught the scent of the other, and that had been it. It was a miracle you hadn’t just started fucking in the middle of the coffeeshop, the way your body had reacted - your inner Omega would have done so, happily. Luckily, Steve was a little bit more controlled and managed to at least wait until you’d had one dinner together before agreeing to come back to your apartment with you.

That had been just over two years ago, and given how he’d mated you and then had to disappear, only returning for your heat or his rut, your relationship could be termed a whirlwind. Now you were going to meet his friends - his family - and announce that you were going to be having his pups in a matter of months. Your hands twisted in the fabric of your coat, and you pulled your lower lip between your teeth to chew on it.

Picking up on your anxiety, Steve pulled you tighter into his embrace and used his thumb to release your lip from its torture.

“They’re gonna love you, Omega. I promise.” His deep voice soothed you and you rested your head on his chest.

“You’re sure?” you asked quietly.

“How could they not? You’re so sweet and kind. And when they know you’re carrying my pups they’re gonna be thrilled. Happy likes you already, so you have nothing to worry about.”

You flicked your eyes up to the driver’s mirror, catching the glance of the tall, broad and cheerful Beta who’d turned up to whisk you and Steve back to the compound. Apparently he was Tony Stark's Head of Security and you’d been put straight at ease when he’d greeted you with a genuine smile and a ‘Nice to meet you, ma’am.’ You hoped the rest of the introductions would go as smoothly.

The car came to a halt, and you looked out of the tinted window in awe at the enormity of the site.

“Here we go, Mama - home sweet home.” Steve got out of the car and then held out his hand to assist you. “Let’s head on over to the common room - the others are waiting. Happy will sort out your bags for us.”

Unused to this level of attention, you spun around to face the security specialist. “Oh, you don’t have to. I’m sure we can…”

Happy held up his hand and flashed you a grin. “It’s not a problem at all, ma’am. It’s practically a holiday compared to some of the things Mr Stark asks me to do.”

You giggled back as you wondered what on earth Iron Man had his staff doing? You’d wouldn’t ask though, getting the feeling that you’d regret knowing the answer.

With your arm tucked safely in his, Steve led you into the state of the art compound and along a maze of corridors. Each one looked the same. Your confusion and apprehension must have shown on your face.

“Don’t worry, sweetheart - you’ll learn your way around in no time, and while you’re getting there, you can just ask FRIDAY for help - she’s Tony’s AI and can help with whatever you need.” Steve lifted his head and addressed the ceiling. “Isn’t that right, FRIDAY?”

“It is, Captain. I’m here to assist in any way possible.”

You jumped as the voice came out of hidden speakers, and Steve couldn’t hide his smile.

“Is she always listening?” you whispered, pulling Steve down closer to you. The thought that there would be a computer intelligence that would be able to hear you… your cheeks started to heat at the thought.

Steve shook his head. “She does continually monitor us and the surroundings as standard, but not everything is for her computer eyes, sweetheart. We can tell her when to engage the privacy protocols.” He gripped your chin between his thumb and forefinger and leant closer. “Some things are just for me, Omega.” He let out a little growl and nipped at your lower lip, making you jump for the second time in as many minutes, although for totally different reasons. His eyes were dark and his expression held all sorts of promises, but you knew there was no time for that at this moment. Besides, the wait would just make it better.

Your mate obviously had the same idea, as he started walking again, keeping his stride short so he wasn’t dragging you along.

“So, Bucky, Nat, Wanda and Vision live on site. Sam splits his time between here and DC. Clint also splits his time. Thor has rooms here for when he’s visiting from Asgard - at least with his hammer he doesn’t have to worry about the commute time. Tony and Pepper obviously have their own place, but Tony spends a lot of time here, mainly because Pepper’s banned all his large tech and tinkering stuff from their house. Tony should be here, or at least on his way over. He said he was desperate to meet you.”

“Why does that worry me?” you jested.

“He’ll just flirt with you - that’s what Tony does. And he’ll mainly do it to wind me up.” He screwed up his face and you giggled. The idea that you’d even respond to the flirting of someone who wasn’t your Alpha was laughable.

Steve had done a good job of distracting to you, because you didn’t even think about the fact that you must be near your destination until Steve steered you through an open doorway and into a room that housed a large number of sofas, a massive TV, a kitchenette, a foosball table and seven other people.

“And here we are,” said Steve as he came to a halt, moving you in front of him with his arms clasped around your waist. “Everyone, this is my beautiful Omega. Sweetheart - this is everyone.”

You knew your eyes were bugging out of your head. You were in the presence of literal superheroes - your brain had long gotten over the fact that Steve was Captain America - and didn’t for the life of you know how you were going to adjust.

One of them pushed away from the wall and walked towards you with a shy smile, long dark hair flopping over his brow. “Hey, Doll. I’m Bucky, it’s nice to meet you. Sorry I kept Stevie away from you for so long.”

You grinned back at him and shook his proffered hand. At this distance you could tell he was an Alpha, just like Steve. His scent wasn’t unpleasant - metal, sandalwood and fresh snow - but it didn’t speak to you like Steve’s did. His blend of spring sunshine, lemon thyme and honey called to your Omega in a way that no other Alpha’s ever had. “It’s good to meet you too. I’m looking forward to finding out all of Steve’s deep dark secrets from you.”

Bucky threw back his head and laughed, and you heard Steve mutter something under his breath that sounded like ‘I thought it was Tony I’d have to worry about’.

The next to step forward was a petite, but lethal looking red-head. You knew from news reports that this was the Black Widow - or Natasha. “Hi, I’m Nat. I’m glad that this idiot finally managed to find someone to put up with him.”

You sniggered behind your hand as Steve let out a cry of mock anger. Hearing all of the banter made your heart soar. It really was like meeting Steve’s family.

He introduced you around to the others, and you subtly scented them as they got close. Nat had a strange scent - like a cross between an Alpha and a Beta, and you didn’t know what to make of it. Sam and Thor were both Alphas, Clint was a Beta, Wanda an Omega, and Vision was just Null, being an artificial construct.

Your inner Omega was slightly concerned by Wanda for a few moments, until you realised that she and Steve obviously had a big brother-little sister vibe going on and you relaxed.

“Now,” said Steve, “the only person left to meet is…”

There was a crashing and clattering noise from the hallway, and then another man appeared - there was no mistaking who it was.

“...Tony.” Steve finished.

Tony swaggered into the room, walking up to you and Steve.

“Hey Capsicle, sorry I’m late.” He clapped his hand jovially on Steve’s shoulder and grinned.

Before you even knew what you were doing, you’d pulled away from Steve, grasped Tony’s wrist, and pulled it away so he was no longer touching your Alpha. Your upper lip curled and a snarl left your mouth.

“My mate,” you spat at the surprised Omega.

The room fell silent and you felt nine pairs of eyes focussed on you, but your hindbrain was in control, protecting your growing family from this interloper.

“Umm, sweetheart?” Steve placed his hand on your back between your shoulder blades. “Are you alright?”

You growled, eyes still focussed on Tony, who had much more of your Alpha’s scent lingering to him than you were happy with.

“My Alpha,” you bit out, stepping up into Tony’s personal space. “Mine.”

“Okay…” Tony breathed out, slowly removing your hand from him and taking a few steps back, looking you up and down as if he was trying to see what was under your coat. “So, ummm, I think congratulations are in order! I’m guessing that’s what’s set you off.”

From the corner of your eye, you saw Vision cock his head and heard him whisper to Wanda. “I think I’ve missed something, dearest.”

“She’s pregnant and she sees Tony as a threat,” Wanda whispered back.

Tony coughed awkwardly and drew your attention back to him.

“I can assure you that I’m not after Ste - your Alpha. I have an Alpha of my own. See.” He pulled down the collar of his shirt, showing you his mating scar.

Your eyes narrowed as you peered at him. “You smell of my Alpha.” The accusatory tone was obvious, and you could feel Steve shifting awkwardly behind you.

“Well, we do spend a lot of time together. We’re friends. I was helping him yesterday - trying to find you.”

You snarled again and Tony’s eyes went wide, as though he thought you might leap forward and try to rip his throat out with your teeth. Your inner Omega was considering it.

“B-But,” Tony continued, “I smell of my own Alpha - Pepper - more. Here…” he held his wrist out towards you, and cautiously you leant forward and sniffed. Tony smelled of oil, coffee and amber. Steve’s scent lingered on him, but it was almost drowned out by another set of notes - vanilla, jasmine and lemon.

“Hhmmph.” You grunted out a non-committal noise, but backed up towards Steve again, taking hold of his arm and aggressively scenting at his wrist - publicly claiming him -, never letting your gaze leave Tony.

“Sweetheart? Omega? Would you like to go to our apartment now and have a little rest?” Steve spoke tentatively, as though you were a bomb set on a hair trigger.

“Not rest. Knot.” you retorted before grabbing his hand and dragging him out of the room. “FRIDAY - which way to Captain Rogers’ apartment?”

The Avengers watched you go, and then looked at each other as soon as you were out of view.

“Well,” said Tony as he breathed out heavily. “I might have to keep my distance from Cap for the next few months.”

Nat chuckled. “Might be best, especially if you want to keep your larynx intact.”

Tony brought his hand up to cup his own throat, lips twisting wryly. “Yeah. At least we know one thing - she’s not gonna let Rogers walk all over her.”

Tag list: @km-ffluv, @wheezy-stucky, @kmc1989, @kombatfather1796, @christywrites, @alexakeyloveloki, @wolfsmom1, @doasyoudesireandlive, @goldylions

#steve rogers x you #steve rogers x reader #pregnancy fic #pregnant reader #omegaverse #a/b/o verse #My Beginning My End My Everything

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starfxkr · 3 months

Note

Hey star!! I love your work sm maybe continue with sugardaddy Rafe x sad pogue bunny girl that he found crying on the beach js thinking about how he would go from being the sweetest to her when she needs something to fucking her nice n hard when she misbehaves :( js wan Rafe to put me in my place

shopping trips with rafe always start off well— you’d never had so many clothes in your life, let alone designer.

for the most part you got to pick out what you want, but rafes influence was there. “mmm i dunno bunny, that ones nice and all but you would look fuckin delicious in this.” he would gently ease whatever you had out of your hands and replace it with his choice, slowly but surely molding you into his perfect girl.

but you could never quite relinquish all of your pougeish ways, as sweet as you are. that steely rebelliousness needed to survive in the cut would rear its ugly head every now and then.

“i fuckin hate these sandals rafe i cant walk in them.” you stumbled around his room, ankles wobbling as you tried to stay upright. you may have been girly but you were practical— comfy sneakers and cute slides were the main thing to line your meagre closet and here he was trying to put you in strappy heels.

“i dont recall asking you that bun, now give me a spin.” rafe sighed and dragged a hand over his mouth, the vein in his forehead throbbed in irritation.

instead of doing what he said you bent over to take them off in a huff, “fuck you.” no sooner have you muttered it does he have a hand clamped on the back of your neck pushing you to the bed.

“wanna repeat that? dont think i heard you the first time.

uselessly you try to buck him off, “please let me go. im sorry.”

“nah too late for that, you’re gonna learn to respect your daddy you got that? now be a good bunny and relax.” rafe pushes your panties to the side and runs his fingers up and down your slit, feeling you grow wetter with each pass. “there you go, open up for me.”

you cant help the whimper that comes out your mouth when he finally circles your clit, gathering more and more of your wetness before finally sliding two fingers knuckles deep inside your sensitive cunt.

“yea its not gonna take you long at all.” the squelch of your pussy grows louder as he crooks his fingers against the sticky spot inside of you that makes you whimper. before you can cum he pulls away, “you thought thats all i was gonna do? nah bunny, ima set you right with this dick.” rafe drops is slacks, pushing your dress further up so your tits are exposed, “spread that ass for me cmon.”

with a whimper you grip the soft flesh of your ass adn spread your cheeks open for him, giving him the perfect view of your puckered hole and wet pussy. you flinch when you feel a warm glob of spit land on your asshole, “rafe…i-im not ready for that.”

rafe just presses a thumb against the tight flesh and shushed you, “dont give me that just relax.” his thumb sinks in and you moan at the stretch, “god you’re so fuckin pretty.”

“please daddy…” you trail off, not even sure what you’re begging for, but rafe seems to know—he slides his thick dick inside of you, groaning at the way your wet walls pulse around him and the added toght fit of his thumb in your ass.

“here we go bunny, ima get that attitude fixed right up.” he doesnt even bother starting slow, immediately pounding into you like a jackhammer.

his words from earlier were right— it wasn’t gonna take you long at all. “oh fuck—mmm—it’s too much.” your words just spurned him on, fucking you with his dick and finger until you were a boneless pile beneath him.

“cum for me bunny, give your daddy what he wants.”

with a pitiful squeak you cream all over his dick, your whole body shaking with the force of your orgasm.

“you feel so fucking good sweetheart, never gonna get tid of you— gonna fuckin fill you up with all my babies.” rafes hips slam so hard into your own, they bounce back off the mattress, his thumb slipping out. you were so fucked out you barely registered his words…but what you did recognised made you tremble.

babies?

but there was no more time to think about it, because rafe was filling you with so much cum he vaguely thinks he might have knocked you up.

he settles his large body over you, tired and satiated. “you gonna be a good girl now and out on those shoes?”

all you can do is nod.

#✨.txt #rafe cameron prompt #this is so long im sorry…#i got carried away teehee

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myperfectfatdads · 6 months

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Dads Clothes

Dang bro I don’t have any extra clothes. “Yea same man” says Matt. You don’t have any clothes bro I mean this is your house you live here how do you possibly have no clothes. “This morning I did a huge run of laundry so it’s all in the wash and even more wet and dirty than the clothes we have right now” says Matt. Looking in Matt’s closet he’s right there is not a single piece of clothing. “See I told you bro” says Matt. Yeah I guess you’re right well is there any other clothes possibly we could wear. “I’ll see but you’re right coming back from a big day at the beach I sure do wanna change from these wet sandy swim suits.

“Oh I got it we can wear some of my dad’s clothes he has a ton of them here come on let’s go” says Matt. Are u sure bro one will your dad get man that we are wearing his clothes and two will his clothes even hit us I mean he’s on the bigger side of people. “Yeah they will be really big but it’s ok it better then wearing these sandy swimsuits and he will never know remember he doesn’t come back tell tomorrow we have the whole night to ourselves!” Says Matt. Going into his bedroom you look for some of his clothes and after you find some you try them on. “Yep just as I suspected these are huge on me” says Matt. You picked out a nice blue shirt, while Matt picked out a big grey shirt. “Woah man I know my dad is big but these clothes make him look huge” says Matt, yeah bro this is one of the biggest shirts I’ve seen! “Haha, man we look so funny in these I feel like my dad would be really mad though if he found out we are wearing his clothes so we just can’t let him find out” says Matt. Yeah no problem man your secret is safe with me I mean I’m wearing your dad’s clothes too. “Hey look at me, I’m wearing my dads overalls” says Matt. Haha that’s funny man there even big on you too! “Your right, hey let’s go down to the kitchen and get some food I’m starving” says Matt. While I’m the kitchen you notice that Matt’s face has stubble on it. Hey dude when did you start growing stubble? “What do you mean man at the beach today we already talked about this we both have stubble, also your so lucky you get to wear my dads shorts I have to wear his stupid jeans” says Matt. Oh yeah sorry man I totally forgot. “Is it just me or does a beer sounds really good right now?” Says Matt, a beer, bro I thought you hated beer. “I do but it’s just sounds super good right now I don’t know why.” Ok bro you do you. “Wow thanks burpppppppppp, what the heck that came out oh no where.” That’s strange man you never burp. “Yeah but I also don’t like beer so anything is possible, well I’m glad you get to spend the weekend here bro my dad will be home in the morning just make sure to change out of his clothes by than.” Sounds good bro I got you he won’t find out. “He shouldn’t need to my clothes should be ready in the morning before he gets home.” What the heck. “What is it?” Your growing a beard bro and its grey! “Omg your right what is going on Thats so weird you are too!” What, your right and mine it grey too! “Don’t worry about it to much man it’s probably just from stress it happens a lot I’ve heard.” Yeah bro it’s happens a lot to old people we are not old we’re only 22. “Well your right but we are at the age we’re we start to grow beards so I think it’s normal.” I guess your right. “I know these overalls are kinda weird but I kinda like them they just feel like they support me, also these jeans feel like the fit a bit better.” They fit better bro I swear they were huge on your just and hour ago. “I mean they are still big I don’t know maybe they shrunk, yawnnnn I’m getting tired bro what time is it?” Its 11 oh yeah it’s time for bed bro, where are we sleeping? “I mean we probably shouldn’t sleep in the same bedroom so you can sleep in mine for the night and I’ll sleep in my dads I guess.” Okay bro sounds good we’ll goodnight then. Saying goodnight to Matt you realize that his few strands of hair on his face turned into a whole bushy beard. Thinking it’s weird you don’t think much of it and go to bed. Waking up in the morning and getting out of bed the shirt that was super loose yesterday felt like it fit a lot better this morning. It was almost even a little tight but that’s weird you swear it was loose earlier. Going to wake Matt up you knock on the door but no response, maybe he is all ready down stairs. Walking down the stairs is a lot harder with back pain. Wait I never have back pain well maybe I just got a bad sleep last night, also I feel really heavy today so maybe that’s it. Then as you walk into the kitchen your let with Matt’s dad but wait he’s not supposed to be home tell later and why is he wearing the same clothes that Matt was yesterday.

In a deep voice the old man says good morning man. Hey Matt’s dad I thought you weren’t supposed to be home tell later. “What do you mean it’s me Matt good old burppppppp papa Matt, remember yesterday when I said these overalls felt good well yeah now they really feel good they have to support this big beer belly of mine. “Your keeping up quite to belly there too man. Look at yourself you are met with an old fat man.

Well I guess you’re right man when you get old like us it’s really hard to watch the weight. “Yeah that’s right I mean I felt like it gets bigger every day.” Well should I return these clothes to your dad? “No need dude also these are my clothes and don’t call me dad I’m only 63 haha.” Well thanks man this is my new favorite shirts for sure also do you wanna go out for breakfast it’s on me? “Yeah sure man I can eat, gotta keep up this belly burppppppppp.” Well so can I haha let’s go then.

#dad bod #weight gain #balding #beer belly #beer bloat #burping #fat belly #hairy belly #fatty

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japeneselunchtimerush · 4 months

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Continutation of my previous post but its just incorrect quotes.

Kise: what's a word that's a mix between angry and sad?

Akashi: malcontented, disgruntled, miserable, desolated

Aomine: smad

Akashi: I left instructions for everyone while I'm gone.

Aomine and Kise: Ours just say “No.”

Akashi: And I want you to apply it to every possible situation.

Mayuzumi: you played me like a fiddle

Bokushi: actually, fiddles are quite difficult to play. I played you like a cheap kazoo

Akashi: Kuroko, please keep an eye on Kise. He's gonna say something to Midorima and get himself punched.

Kuroko: Sure Akashi-kun, I'd love to see Kise get punched.

Akashi: Try again.

Kuroko: I will stop Kise from getting punched.

Akashi: Correct.

Akashi: oh, are you and Kise no longer…

Aomine: smushing booties?

Akashi: …yes that’s exactly how i was going to phrase my sentence, Aomine.

Bokushi talking to Nash: you think you can just bully people, but you can’t. it’s not okay.

Bokushi: i’m the bully around here. ask anyone.

Bokushi: i only feel one emotion, and it’s indifference.

Oreshi: last night you drunk-texted the whole team a bunch of heart emojis.

Bokushi: ...indifferently.

Murasakibara: i really miss these people, the whole team. Aka-chin, Mido-chin…

Murasakibara: …i forget all their other names.

Himuro: *judgemental eyebrow raise*

Midorima: You know archaic Latin?

Akashi: I got bored with classical Latin.

Midorima: You know normal Latin?

Akashi: Yeah someone from my knitting club taught me.

Midorima: YOU HAVE A KNITTING CLUB?

Akashi: You don't know everything about me Midorima. Now do you want a sweater or a scarf?

Momoi: 'You'll never find the body' is such a boring threat. A better threat would be; 'You'll never stop finding the body.'

Akashi, bored: Or just say, 'They'll be finding parts of you for at least four months...and you'll still be alive for three of them.'

Momoi: Now that's a threat!

The rest of the GoM: *horrified silence*

Murasakibara: do you think I could fit fifteen marshmallows in my mouth?

Midorima: ...you are a hazard to society

Aomine: and a coward. do twenty

[Akashi after the GoM do something really stupid but he's running on t-2 seconds of sleep and a cup of tea]

Akashi : I am offended. I am angry. I am very tired. So I am gonna take a nap but when I wake up, oh you are *in* for it.

The GoM:...

Four hours later...

Akashi: How. DARE. You!

Kuroko: remember how furious you got that time when Aomine ended a letter with "thx" instead of "thanks"?

Akashi: why would you bring this up??

Himuro: So,Shuu , tell us everything! Did you call Akashi’s dad first?

Nijimura: I actually did!

*time skip back*

Nijimura, on the phone: Mr Akashj? I’m calling to inform you that I plan to ask your son to marry me. But since it’s 2016 I am NOT asking for your permission since he is not your property. NOR WOULD HE BE MINE IF HE CHOOSES TO SAY YES! He’s a strong independent man and he don’t need no man! That being said I truly hope he says yes. But it’s HIS decision so just BACK OFF!

Hinuro: aww, that was perfect! What did he say?

Nijimura: I have no idea I left a voicemail I’m terrified of him.

[Back at it again with the nijiaka]

Bokushi: Wait you like me?

Mibuchi: Yes

Bokushi: ... for my personality?

Mibuchi: I was surprised too

#akashi seijuro #midorima shintarou #murasakibara atsushi #aomine daiki #bokushi #oreshi #kise ryota #mayuzumi chihiro #mibuchi reo #LOL idk man

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lexi-the-demon-69 · 7 months

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My CRK hot takes (character edition)

Yeah, you knew this was bound to happen. So, here are my Cookie Run Kingdom hot takes! Please do not read beyond this point if you are easily offended by someone else's opinion because I do not feel like listening to some of you guys whine in the comments.

So, here they are lol:

Ok, now let me explain my takes! I couldn't really fit everything into the comic, because they're just too small and I don't think I can do it justice. So, here are my explanations!

1.) "Black Pearl is an overrated character and didn't deserve to be Cookie of the Year."

I honestly do not understand why she’s so popular, other than that her design is pretty and she’s VERY good skill-wise. Other than that… there’s nothing really that I like about her. Don’t get me wrong, she’s not criminally offensive compared to other characters, but all she is to me is a simple rehash of Dark Choco Cookie’s character, but worse. If anything, Sherbert Cookie should’ve been Cookie of the Year and not her! He’s an amazingly written character compared to her and I actually feel very sorry for, unlike Black Pearl. The only reason why she got Cookie of the Year is that she’s pretty. That’s it.

2.) "Clotted Cream can go fuck himself."

I despise this character with a passion. I also do not understand the appeal of Clotted Cream. There is just something about him that I just do not like! The moment I laid eyes on him in Cookie Odyssey, I immediately thought he was the man behind the slaughter and I feel like that was also half of the fandom at the time when Cookie Odyssey was released. Do I even need to mention the scene where he confronts the ancients with Dark Enchantress Cookie’s identity? I mean, yes, it should’ve been said, but holy fuck he could NOT shut his fucking mouth! Besides, HE started the whole damn thing! If anything, Dark Cacao should AT LEAST knock some fucking sense into him. I would not be even mad. Also, he’s fucking annoying to me. Why does he not have a British accent?! WHY?!-

3.) "LicoPom is a good ship"

I stand by this and I shall explain myself now. Both Pomegranate and Licorice Cookie are shitty people and they both treat Dark Choco like garbage. The ONLY reason why people say this ship is bad is because Pomegranate is shitty towards Choco. Y'all, you DO realize Licorice also uses Dark Choco as a punching bag too, right? Not only does Licorice throw Dark Choco under the bus by mentioning him to get him in trouble, but ALSO calls him names. Not to mention that Licorice is treated the best by Pomegranate, compared to the others, and you can see that they care about each other (at least, Licorice does, at the end of episode 14, where he tells her that she's hurt and they need to retreat.) They deserve each other, honestly.

4.) "The Heroes of the Dark Cacao Update is THE BEST CRK Update."

Do I really need to explain why? I mean, this update is CARRIED by its story ALONE! Not to mention we got Dark Cacao: One of the BEST written characters in the entire game, Affogato Cookie, Caramel Arrow Cookie: Dark Choco's wife/j and certified Girlboss, and we got to learn more about Dark Choco Cookie as a character! Whoever says this update is bad is a liar-

5.) "Sea Fairy is a mid character"

I don't think I need to explain why. We know very little about her, even after the Mermaid update we only know that she's connected to the Mermaids and that's kinda it. I mean, I don't hate her at all, but I wish we had a little more info about her.

6.) "Pudding Cookie should be introduced into Kingdom for the next Krima update"

Ok, not much of a hot take but more of an opinion. I mean, c'mon! Look at her!! We need an update where she's introduced along with other Christmas Cookies with their own little story, like in ovenbreak! Please, Devsisters, do it-

----

Ok, that's all of my hot takes I have so far. I'm pretty sure I'm gonna lose some of my followers for these takes- (thank you for 400 followers btw!! It really means a lot!!) but I say it's worth it. If any of you guys have any hot takes of your own, please let me know in the comments or ask box! I'd love to see them!

#cookie run #cookie run kingdom #dark cacao cookie #licorice cookie #clotted cream cookie #sea fairy cookie #pudding cookie #dark choco cookie #licopom #licorice cookie x pomegranate cookie #black pearl cookie #sherbet cookie #hot takes

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thatfanficstuff · 8 days

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Breakeven - Jonas Taylor (The Meg)

Pairing: Jonas Taylor x Reader

Warnings: nope

A/N: Inspired by the song Breakeven by The Script. I was having trouble finding a Jonas Taylor fic that fit what I was looking for so I wrote one. The story of my life. Enjoy.

Jonas Taylor’s gaze swept around the flurry of activity surrounding him. He’d just left the infirmary after making certain his sister would recover from the injury she’d received when her sub had been attacked. He needed a shower and a change of clothes but he was too busy searching the halls of Mana One for your familiar silhouette. He hadn’t seen you since the two of you divorced and now that he was so close to you, he felt the need to find you. To assure himself that you were still whole and alive.

Finally, he caught a glimpse of you as you conferred with Suyin, both your heads bent over a tablet as she showed you something. He sucked in a breath as his chest tightened, an odd mix of longing and bitterness churning inside him. He shoved down the rush of emotions threatening to surface, schooling his features into his normal flat expression. He had to appear unaffected. He couldn’t let you know how affected he was by your presence, how the pain clawed at his insides.

“I thought you were going to clean up,” Mac’s voice interrupted. His friend followed his line of sight to see you. “Oh.” He dropped a hand on Jonas’ shoulder and gave it a comforting squeeze.

Jonas shrugged him off and gave him a tight smile. “Got sidetracked is all.”

“I see that,” Mac agreed as he put his hands in his pockets and followed Jonas as he walked away from you. They walked in silence for a bit, steps echoing in the quiet hall.

Jonas licked his lips. “Seems like she’s doing okay after everything.” Bitterness colored his words though he’d tried to hide it. He hated that he was torn in pieces, aimless without you and you didn’t seem bothered in the least. It was bullshit.

Mac studied him for a moment. “She’s keeping her head up.” He grabbed his friend by the arm and pulled him into a room. “Let’s have a drink. You look like you could use one.”

Jonas nodded and took a seat in what was clearly Mac’s private room. He sipped at his drink as he watched Mac contemplate something. Jonas knew the look well and waited for his friend to come to a decision.

“You’ve got it all wrong you know,” Mac finally said with a furrowed brow.

“What have I got wrong?”

“It killed her to file those papers.”

Jonas snorted. “I find that unlikely. No, she thought I was crazy just like everyone else and left rather than stand by me like she should have.”

Mac shook his head. “I promised her I wouldn’t say anything, but I’m tired of holding her while she cries over you. I love her like a sister, but she needs you.”

“Then why the hell did she leave?” Jonas tried and failed to mask the desperation in his words.

“Because,” Mac hesitated, swirling his drink as if searching for courage in its depths. “Because the old bastard gave her an ultimatum.” Jonas knew instantly he must be talking about your father. None of you liked him but he was too wealthy and powerful to just write off. Mac sighed, regret contorting his features. “He threatened dire consequences, Jonas. Said you’d suffer if she didn’t cut ties.”

A heavy weight settled in his stomach. If your father wasn’t already dead, he’d kill him for threatening you. For making you too scared to come to him. “Threatened? What did he do, Mac?” His grip tightened on his glass, knuckles whitening.

“He didn’t want your presence staining his good name as he put it. Said he’d use all of his resources to make sure you were broke and homeless with no where to turn. He told her there wasn’t a corner of the Earth where you would be safe from him. Then he told her if she tried to run with you, he’d make certain she’d never see you alive again.” Mac’s voice was little more than a whisper by the end, heavy with the burden of the knowledge he’d been carrying.

A cold shock washed over Jonas, followed by a surge of anger that left him breathless. Your father hadn’t threatened you. He’d threatened Jonas. You’d shattered your entire world to protect him. His breath came heavy and he placed his glass on the table in front of him, afraid he’d drop it otherwise. He ran a hand over his head. “Damn it.” How hadn’t he seen this? Why hadn’t he demanded more answers from you? Why had he just assumed you were abandoning him like everyone else? “I can’t believe she never—”

“Hey,” Mac interrupted gently, placing a hand on Jonas’s back. “You didn’t know because she didn’t want you to. She walked away to keep you safe.”

“Safe,” Jonas echoed, the word bitter on his tongue. The truth of your motivations stripped him of his resentment, leaving a raw, gaping wound in its wake.

“Jonas,” Mac’s voice softened, “she loved you enough to let you go but she was far from okay with it. It tore her up. Still does.”

He clenched his jaw as he processed everything he’d just been told. If you loved him that much, maybe there was still hope for the two of you.

You’d taken to hiding in your room since Jonas arrived, leaving only when you were made to. You hadn’t even been to see Lori in the infirmary afraid you’d run into him there. Mac had been trying to get you to tell Jonas the truth since your father died, but you just couldn’t. He’d hate you for breaking his heart, regardless of the circumstances. It was better to just let him move on without you. For him to find his happiness even if you never did.

A knock at your door reverberated through the room. You opened it without checking who was on the other side. An action you regrated instantly when you found yourself face to face with the love of your life. “Jonas,” you whispered, your voice breaking on the word.

He greeted you in return before pushing gently past you and stepping into the room. You shut the door behind him, your hand trembling against the cold steel. “I didn’t expect—”

“Neither did I,” he said cutting you off. “Why did you do it? Why did you leave me?”

The words hung between you as your eyes searched his, wondering why he suddenly wanted to have this conversation when he’d never asked at the time. “Jonas, I…” you trailed off not certain what you could say to get him to possibly forgive you.

“Please,” he pleaded as his hands clenched and unclenched at his sides. “I heard things about your father, about threats. I need to hear it from you. The truth.”

The silence that followed was suffocating. Your gaze faltered, drifting away before finding its way back to him. “I…you don’t understand.”

“Then help me understand,” he said, stepping closer.

You swallowed the lump in your throat as your heart raced, pounding against your ribs. “My father threatened everything. I never wanted to leave you but if I stayed, if I fought for you…He might have been bluffing, but I couldn’t risk it.”

“Why didn’t you tell me?” he asked, his voice thick with emotion. “Why didn’t you ask for my help?”

A laugh escaped you then, a cold, bitter sound of disbelief. “How could I, Jonas? Threats from my father aside, you’d been pushing me away since the day everything went to shit. I tried to help you, tried to back you and you didn’t want it. When my father gave me the ultimatum, I figured it wouldn’t matter much to you anyway. It didn’t matter if I was broken, as long as you were okay.”

You couldn’t bear to look at him as hot tears trailed down your cheeks. Strong hands gripped yours and you sucked in a breath in surprise. “Listen to me,” Jonas ordered. “I always knew you deserved better than me and I didn’t want to drag you down with me, but nothing, absolutely nothing would ever make me quit loving you.”

When you said nothing he squeezed your hands. “Say you believe me,” he whispered. “Believe that in a million moments, in a million lifetimes, I would always choose you.”

Your eyes found his, wanting to believe his words. Gods you wanted to. And as he gazed at you full of hope and love and desperation, you found that you did. Could the two of you really have another chance? With your father and his threats gone from your lives, what was stopping you?

Jonas leaned forward suddenly and you barely had time to catch your breath before his lips met yours in a kiss that was both an apology and a plea. His hands moved to cup your face tenderly as if you could vanish in an instant.

Pulling back just enough to meet your stunned gaze, Jonas ran his eyes over your face as if memorizing your features. Whatever he found must have made him happy as a wide grin curled his lips. “Marry me,” he breathed. “Be mine again. Forever this time.”

The sincerity in his eyes was undeniable. Fresh tears trailed the paths of the previous ones but this time they were happy, full of love and hope. You brushed your lips against his as you whispered his name.

He kissed you again, needy and wanting, before resting his forehead against yours. “Is that a yes?”

You chuckled. “Yeah, baby, that’s a yes.”

His hands trembled slightly as he pulled you into his chest and wrapped his arms around you. He buried his face into the curve of your neck and inhaled your still familiar scent. For the first time since you walked out the door all those years ago, he felt whole.

“I’m so sorry,” you whispered against his skin.

“There’s nothing to be sorry for, sweetheart. As long as you never leave my side again everything will be fine.” As he pressed a kiss to your temple, there was a knock on your door.

“Go away,” he called, making you laugh.

There was a stretch of silence before you heard Mac say your name in question which only made you laugh harder. You pulled away to answer your door, Jonas moving with you. Mac looked between the two of you, before grinning like an idiot. “I’m sorry to interrupt this, like you have no idea how sorry, but we’ve got a meeting to talk about the meg.”

You nodded and moved to follow him before Jonas grabbed your arm and pulled you back. “We’ll be there in a minute,” his rough voice said as he shut the door in Mac’s face.

When he turned you and pressed you against the door as he kissed you deeply, all your protests disappeared. This is where you belonged. Right here with your husband as if the last five years had never happened. You wrapped your arms around his neck as you kissed him back and wondered if they really needed you to tell them to kill the giant shark before it ate everyone. Surely they could figure that out on their own.

#jonas taylor fanfiction #jonas taylor x reader #the meg fanfiction #jason statham fanfiction

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