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minarisplaything · 4 months

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Going Away Present ft. Jennie Kim

pairing: Blackpink Jennie Kim x M!Reader/M!OC rating: Explicit wordcount: 3.8k summary: Being the younger sibling of a member of Blackpink meant you were constantly surrounded by temptation. When the time for you to go away to college is coming up, one member decides to give you a special gift. disclaimer: this is a work of fiction. all characters portrayed are 18+

It was just another day when you were walking up the front steps of your parents' house, grocery bags in hand. You couldn't help but wonder why you had been sent to get something so simple. Then again, Jisoo was in town, which meant your parents probably wanted to have some private time to catch up with her. Needless to say, being the member of a popular South Korean girl band and global ambassador for multiple brands required a lot of time away from home.

Pushing the front door open with your foot, you stumbled through the doorway, trying to see past the brown bags in your arms, “A little help—?"

"SURPRISE!!!"

A loud roar interrupted you as you stepped a foot into the house. You don't know what your reaction looked like, but judging from your slack jaw, it had to be some mixture of fear and bewilderment.

"W-What's going on?" you stammered, the bags practically falling out of your hands.

"We planned a surprise going-away party!" your mum explained as she walked towards you.

The smile on her face showed that she was clearly proud to have accomplished her goal. Your shocked expression slowly settled into a small smile and look of appreciation. Leave it to her to go above and beyond with something like this.

“Mum, I don’t leave for university for another month,” you said, handing the bags over to her.

“Yes, well, your sister is only here for two weeks then she has to leave on the international tour. So we decided to do it now. Go on, enjoy yourself, sweetie."

Your smile faltered somewhat. Ah, that explained it better. You would be lying if you said you weren't looking forward to going to university to make a fresh start for yourself out of your sister's shadow. You looked around the room, briefly noting the guests. It was the usual crowd; relatives, some schoolmates, longtime neighbors, and sure enough, your sister, Jisoo, and the other members of Blackpink.

You bit the bottom of your lip as you looked at them. Damn, Jennie, Chaeyoung, and Lisa looked amazing. No, you chastised yourself, Keep it together. Pushing your inappropriate thoughts aside, you turned back to the crowd of gathered people.

"Uh, thanks a lot for coming, guys. I’m sure there's plenty of food and drink, so let's enjoy ourselves."

Luckily, you were spared standing in an awkward silence as someone took the cue to start the music, and the party began. Now you say party, but that was being a bit generous. In reality, you spent most of the afternoon going around to various groups of people, talking and thanking them for coming. The questions were mostly the same: What university will you be going to? What will you be majoring in? How far is it? Have you thought about life after university and so on. It was exhausting, really.

Eventually, you worked your way to the backyard where the members of Blackpink stood gathered. Oddly enough, you had known them almost better than you knew anyone else at the party. In that sense, you couldn't help but be relieved when you finally made it to them.

"He's so grown up!" Chaeyoung squealed as you walked over. "I remember when he was eye level with me."

An embarrassed grin crossed your features as you stopped in front of them. Seeing them so often going through teenage years was never easy and often led to you excusing yourself to your room. At least now you could control yourself...mostly. Chaeyoung, or Rosie, was right though. Where you had once been eye-level and even shorter than her, you now towered over her.

“Ah, I never thought I’d see this day,” Jisoo said dramatically, moving over and wrapping an arm around you. “I was sure he’d drop out of school or something before university.”

The girls laughed as you shrugged her off, “Don't let mom and dad hear you saying that,” you teased looking over at her. "Besides, we all know I'm the brains in the family."

“Does that make me the talented one?”

The others laughed at the display of sibling bantering, and you couldn't help but join in. At moments like this, it was easy to forget just how famous she actually was.

Wearing a slight grin of her own, Jennie Kim moved towards you, wrapping an arm around your neck and standing to the side, “Be nice, Jisoo-unnie, it’s a special day for him,” she said before leaning up to give you a kiss on the cheek. You could immediately feel your face start to redden and hoped the fading sunlight in the yard was enough to mask it. “Plus we have a special way to send you off later.”

You raised your eyebrows curiously. Jennie had always been your favorite among your sister’s friends, something you were sure they secretly knew but didn’t want to embarrass you by pointing out. The idea of a special send-off from her had already sent your mind down an optimistic path. Something Jennie seemed to pick up on as her grin grew.

“Get your mind out of the gutter! It's just a nice club downtown. Especially since you’re old enough to drink now.”

Not exactly the special gift your dirty mind had hoped for but you'd take it. Besides, there were people around the country who would kill to be in your position right now.

“Sounds perfect. This is a nice party and all but there's only so much excitement a going-away party thrown by your parents can have.”

“Don't worry, you’ll have plenty of excitement later,” Jennie winked at you, causing Jisoo to hit her playfully.

“Yah! Stop giving my baby brother the wrong idea!” Jisoo protested.

“Who said it's the wrong idea," Lisa chimed in, a mischievous look on her face, "We might find him a nice girl for the night."

"I'm not listening to this," your sister comically stuck her fingers in her ear.

A round of laughter broke out as Jisoo comically covered her ears. Undeterred, you looked around the yard before returning to the girls, "So when are you guys taking me out for this magical night?”

“Be ready by eleven. Lines aren't exactly an issue for us,” Jennie spoke up first.

You nodded, of course. Benefits of being famous and all.

“Sounds good. You’ll see us all then.”

You hesitated for a moment before leaning down to place a quick peck on Jennie's cheek. This, of course, caused teasing ‘oohs’ and ‘awws’ from the group. You walked away without looking back, but over your shoulder, you could hear Lisa talking as her gaze stared you down.

“He hasn’t even gone off on his own yet, and he’s making man moves.”

The rest of the party went as it had before your run-in with your sister and friends, which was to say boring and dull. Not that it was any fault of their own. It was hard to focus on casual conversation when your mind was already thinking ahead to going out to a club with Jennie, Chaeyoung, and Lisa. And Jisoo as well, you supposed. Eventually, your parents were seeing everyone out, and you were able to slip away to get prepared for the night. Despite not being active in the nightlife scene, you felt compelled to look your best tonight.

It turned out Jennie hadn't been lying. After picking you up, you took a taxi to some club in the heart of the nightlife district. Even with yourself looking terribly out of place, you walked right in and were guided to a table in the VIP section. It was surreal, really. And while you recognized that for many, simply a night at the club with Blackpink would be a dream, your mind couldn't help but wander back to Jennie's words and hope for more.

After a few shots and celebratory toasts, the party was well and truly underway. You could feel yourself starting to loosen up, and whatever nerves you might've had beforehand began to fade away. Time seemed to flow at its own pace, and you were a passenger to its whims.

“I still can’t believe you guys just get VIP tables like this,” you leaned over to say to Jennie, who sat to your right.

“It’s one of the perks of the job,” she replied with a smile before sipping her current drink. “Do you want another?” she pointed to the bottle; you shrugged and held your glass out.

“Jennie! I’m going to go use the bathroom, Chaeyoung is coming with me,” Jisoo shouted over to you.

Her bandmate gave an affirmative response, leaving you alone with Jennie and Lisa. Your thoughts began to wander once again, but before you could work up the courage to act on any of them, you heard a voice calling out to you.

"Do you dance?"

It was Lisa, leaning over the couch towards Jennie and you.

Feeling your nerves suddenly come back, you stammered, “Well uh, not too often I can’t really say—"

Jennie's laughter filled your ear, "Just come on!"

She placed her drink down and took one of your hands while Lisa grinned and took the other. Together they guided you from your booth to an area to dance. Which, while not as crowded as the main floor, was still packed. Jennie easily found you a nook to slide into. She turned around, looking up at you as she pressed her body close to yours and began moving to the electronic beat without a moment's hesitation. Similarly, you could feel Lisa pressing against you from behind, sandwiching you between the two women.

If this was your gift, you could die a happy person.

"Take a deep breath," Jennie says soothingly, her hands rising above her head as she moves effortlessly to the music. Was is that obvious? You try to follow suit, but your body remains rigid despite your best efforts to loosen up. She turns towards you, pressing her backside against your crotch, and you feel waves of pleasure course through your veins.

Without warning, she takes your hands and places them on her hips, leaving them there as if daring you to move them. As you stand frozen in shock, wondering if this is an invitation or not, Lisa wraps her arms around you from behind. Her fingers trace intricate patterns against your skin as she moves to the music.

"Oh fuck..." you muttered, hoping the music masked your comment from their ears.

The singer continued her moves, even going as far to ratchet it up as she slid down using your body as if it were a stripper pole. As a result it also caused your hands to move from her hips to where her breasts were. Unable to help yourself your fingers flexed, feeling the mounds concealed by her tight top. As if spurred on by your actions her ass rotated, rubbing directly into your crotch over and over again.

“Noona...Jennie...” you tried to warn but your words were lost in the stereo music as she continued to dance.

You could feel yourself beginning to grow hard but could do nothing to stop her as she moved to the song. Every now and then her arms would wrap around my neck, pulling you down ever so closely only to release you and resume grinding against you in various ways. To add on to that you could feel Lisa's body pressed firmly against mine from behind. Whether either girl sensed or felt what was stirring they didn't let it stop them.

“Ssh, enjoy yourself,” Jennie cooed over the music.

And you were. Very much so in fact.

After all, who wouldn’t be in this position? Jennie Kim was rubbing her fit ass against your crotch as she danced to the music to the point where it felt like she was giving you a private lap dance. Meanwhile, Lisa was letting her hands roam over your body as if she was worshiping your form. No one in their right mind would want this to end.

It was only when Lisa moved from around you and began to dance with Jennie in front of you that you finally felt like you were in danger of doing something embarrassing. As intoxicating as the sight was, it wasn’t worth ejaculating inside your pants in front of them. Mustering what willpower you had, you forced yourself to take a step back, whispering a brief excuse.

“Sorry, ladies, I need to take care of something.”

Before they could turn around to question you on the matter, you made my way through the crowd and made a beeline for the restroom; oblivious to the knowing looks and devilish smiles that the two women exchanged.

“Fucking hell,” you grunted as you stumbled into a bathroom stall.

You braced yourself against the sides, taking deep breaths as you tried to compose yourself. Which was easier said than done when your cock was painfully hard. As tempting as it was to jerk off and relieve yourself, there was no way you were doing that in a public stall. That seemed like you’d be asking for some kind of infection.

No, no. You just need to take a few minutes, regain your composure, and then you’d go out there and pick up where you left off.

“They were just teasing me. No way that was serious…” you muttered to yourself. “But still…”

What if they weren’t just teasing? What if this was your chance to make a move? If their dance moves were any indication they were feeling it just as much as you were. And it was your birthday after all. Stranger things had happened before, right? Probably.

Thinking about your plan, of the potential of success, didn’t exactly help quell your excitement but at least you weren’t sporting an aching bulge ready to tear through your pants. You left the stall, went to the sink and splashed some water on your face. With a look in the mirror you set your determination and made your way back to the dance floor.

When you didn’t spot the girls you made your way back to the VIP area where you saw Jennie sipping on her drink and looking at her phone.

“Hey,” you called out.

“There you are,” her eyes lit up as she looked up at you.

“Decided to take a break?”

“Something like that.”

“What happened to Lisa? The others?” you asked.

Jennie leaned back, crossing one leg over the other. The tight dress she wore rode up her thighs, giving you a delicious sight, “Oh, she had something to take care of. I think your sister and Rosie are off dancing the night away.”

You swallowed the lump in your throat, trying to remember your prior pep talk, “I guess it’s just the two of us.”

Jennie, meanwhile, wasn’t lacking confidence at all. She practically oozed it as she leaned forward, resting her elbow on one of her knees and placing her chin in her hand. She looked as though she could devour you with a single word and honestly, you would let her.

“It seems that way,” she cooed, “I was actually thinking of getting out of here…”

Your eyes went wide but you hoped you continued your composure otherwise, “Yeah?”

“Yeah,” Jennie raised her hand to her mouth in what you guessed was a faux yawn, “I’m feeling exhausted. I guess I can’t party the same way I used to.”

This was it. Your chance.

“I can take you home if you want.”

A wicked grin crossed her features.

“Jisoo always said you were well-mannered. I’ll text the girls and tell them we’re heading out.”

LATER THAT NIGHT…

Your back crashed against Jennie’s door and her lips were immediately on yours.

From the moment you had entered the cab to get back to her place it had felt like a fever dream. Her hand had teasingly run along your thigh the whole ride and at one point her lips had found their way to your neck.

Once you had arrived and stumbled into her apartment, she was all over you. No more suggestive touches with hidden meanings, no more coy flirtations. Her lips were on yours while her hands grabbed at your body. It was exhilarating and overwhelming all at once. Despite not drinking more than that initial shot, your head was spinning. This was happening. It was somewhat fortunate that you didn’t have time to overthink it at all.

Jennie’s hands gripped at your shirt, quickly undoing the buttons and pushing it over your shoulders. Next her hands moved to your belt buckle, her teeth biting at your bottom lip as she looked up at you with a sex-crazed gaze.

“I didn’t give you a gift at your party did I?” she asked.

“I-I don’t think so,” you moaned, feeling her hand slip into your pants to grip your cock.

“Then consider my pussy your graduation gift,” Jennie said, “Or a going away present. Whichever you want to call it.”

Her words made your head spin to the point all you could do was nod dumbly. Jennie had a wicked smile on her features as she reached down, pulling your pants and boxers away to expose your aching erection. An erection that you’d been dealing with practically since the club.

“I was wondering what it looked like,” Jennie cooed. “You know, Lisa and I were taking bets on just how big it was.”

“You were?” the thought caused your cock to jump in excitement.

“Mhmm.” Jennie bit her bottom lip as she reached down, her fingers curling around your shaft. “She’s going to be jealous that I got to you first you know. You’d split her in half with this.”

The combination of Jennie stroking your cock and the image of plowing into Lisa was enough to make you more than ready to receive your gift. Something Jennie must have realized as well as you heard her let out a giggle. She rose to her feet and turned, briefly giving you a view of her ass in the tight dress that hugged her fit body.

The view became even greater when she bent over, reached under her dress and slowly pulled her panties down her thighs. She looked over her shoulder, watching your face as she stepped out of them. Briefly you wondered what it’d be to get a lap dance from her. An idea to hope for in the future maybe.

“You can take these with you when you leave,” Jennie winked.

She placed the panties on top of the desk before looking back at you. She hitched up her red dress, revealing her bare ass and exposed pussy to you. If it weren’t for the fact that all the blood had already left your head and gone to your cock, you might’ve fainted on the spot.

“Fuck…”

“Come on then. Come enjoy your gift,” she said. She wiggled her ass as she invited you to close the distance in the hallway and take her.

“Do I need a condom?” you fumbled.

Jennie laughed and shook her head, her hair sticking loosely to her already sweat-covered body, “Don’t worry about that.”

She didn’t have to say it twice. The thought left your mind and you closed the distance between her and yourself. One hand took hold of your cock, lining herself up at her dripping entrance. You paused for a beat, etching the visual into your memory banks as you finally slipped inside of her. To say you had fantasized about your sister's bandmates before would be an understatement. In that sense, this was a dream come true. But even those dreams couldn't compare to the real feeling of Jennie's tight walls squeezing around your cock.

"Fuck, that's it, baby," Jennie moaned, bracing herself with one hand against the wall.

Slowly you buried inch after inch inside of the pop star until your hips were flush against Jennie's ass. As much as you wanted to savor the moment, the desire to fuck your long-time crush was far more overwhelming. Jennie was clearly ready for you to start given the way she ground her ass against you, imploring you to start thrusting immediately. You obliged her, slipping your cock out before filling her to the hilt once again and again.

"Fucking hell," you grunted.

"That's it. Fuck me, Baby" Jennie urged, moans falling from her plump lips.

As you gained a rhythm she began to meet your thrusts with her own movements. Your hands moved to her waist, squeezing gripping her tight as you fucked her. It was hard enough to make sure that there would be marks there tomorrow morning but not enough to cause any discomfort. In fact, judging from the moans of encouragement Jennie let out, she didn't seem to have any complaints.

"Harder," she gasped.

"Yes ma'am."

Every time you entered her from behind it resulted in her perfect ass smacking against you, filling the room with the sound of skin slapping against each other. Jennie clawed against the wall as you pistoned your cock inside of her faster and faster, drawing out both of your pleasure. And it was good. Incredible even. Each thrust inside of Jennie was better than the last, far better than anything your imagination could have come up with.

It was safe to say that the continued feeling of her pussy tightening around your cock far surpassed late nights with your own hand. The only problem was that you knew that it wouldn't last forever. That sooner rather than later you'd be emptying your balls inside of Jennie Kim. Or maybe she'd let you finish on her face.

"Fuck!" you gasped, cock twitching at the thought.

"Does it feel good, baby?" Jennie cast a glance over her shoulder. Her dark hair was sticking to her forehead, her cheeks flushed red, "You don't have to hold back for me. Let yourself go."

"Jennie-- " you warned, desperately.

All you could focus on was the feeling of Jennie's pussy, the desire to fuck her harder, and the looming inevitable release that was growing closer and closer with each thrust.

"I'm--Fuck. I'm going to--" you gasped.

You didn't have time to finish your sentence as Jennie slipped free of your grasp. Before you knew it she was on her knees in front of you, her mouth open and tongue sticking out as she stroked your cock furiously. One look at that sight and it was well and truly over. Your balls tightened, your pent up release spewing all over the pop idol's face. Your cock twitched in her grasp, ropes of your seed splattering her features. You had seen Jennie a lot over the years, but you had never witnessed her like this.

"Jesus christ..."

When it was all said and done you were exhausted and utterly spent. As your cock finally began to soften, Jennie ran a manicured finger over her face, scooping up a wad of your cum and sucking it clean off her fingers. When she looked up at you she seemed as satisfied as you felt.

"Congratulations again on graduating," Jennie said, a wicked smile on his lips. "I can't wait to see you when you come back for break."

BUY ME A COFFEE - if you enjoy my stories considering buying me a coffee! always appreciated, never required.

#jennie kim smut #blackpink smut #blackpink imagines #male reader #kpop smut #girl group smut #original character #jennie x male reader #blackpink x reader

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dsybouquet · 5 months

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braindead about ceo! ellie who goes out with her managers for drinks after a day in the office. the first buttons of her white shirt open and the rest of her suit a bit losely, letting go of the work environment to enjoy herself.

after a drink, she notices you behind the counter, serving people, mixing drinks. something about you was so mesmerising.. she just couldn’t look away.

slowly she excused herself from her colleagues and walked over to the point of the counter where you were polishing glasses. she placed her glass on the counter, resting her arm next to it.

“mind refilling?”

she asked, causing you to look up and face her. a smirk painted on her lips as her green eyes met yours in the dimmed light of the bar.

“sure!”

you answered as kind as ever, smiling at the woman in front of you. you turned around to reach the liquor shelf, taking the whiskey down. ellies eyes fell on your short skirt, which in the front was covered by your apron.

you refilled her glass, asking if she needs anything else.

“what’s a girl like you doing in a bar like this?”

her tattooed hand reaching for the glass of whiskey in front of her.

“trying to keep her head above the water while going to university.”

you laughed, throwing a dish towel over your shoulder.

“and what’s a woman like you doing here?”

ellies smirk got wider, she loved the attitude. and you loved the fact that you knew you’d get good tips from that.

“university? what are you studying?”

“psychology”

you smiled, leaning against the counter. you push a strand of hair behind your ear and took a sip from your bottle. ellie hardly met someone who could hold eye contact as well as you can, shes almost the one wanting to look away.

“a pretty psychology student working in a bar like this? this is not up your alley.”

her voice was quiet, but loud enough for you to hear.

“i have to get by somehow. and after all, the pay is good, the tips even better.”

oh ellie could see why you get tipped well. engaging in conversations, having the pretty privilege and being smart too.

“excuse me for a second.”

you said, walking over to serve one of your regulars his usual beer, having a quick chit chat while doing so. ellie didn’t like how the man looked at you. lust drunken eyes while drinking his beer.

of course, you just looked too good, you were so kind too. she watched while you talked to him, analysing your posture. as a psychology student, you for sure knew how to talk and present yourself to the different people on front of you.

when you turned to face her again, you caught her staring. you smiled, thinking to yourself how an woman this attractive was so intrigued by you.

you eyed her. her tattooed hand, from which you wondered how far up her arm the tattoo was going. the suit and the - by now - unorganised shirt underneath. the way too expensive watch and rings. her eyes and freckles and the auburn hair, which was halfway put in a loose bun.

she was oddly beautiful.

“sorry, had to serve a local.”

you smiled, leaning back over the counter to talk to ellie.

“What’s your name, dear?”

the way she asked for your name made your knees weak.

“______. What’s yours?”

“Ellie.”

you kept the conversation going until you had to close the bar. in between you served your locals, you served new clients but you always returned to ellie. there was just something about her. something so special that you didn’t even question why you were talking to her all night long in between running around.

tired as the clock strikes 4 am, you printed her bill, still smiling and talking with the woman so amazing that your psychology brain couldn’t handle it.

“alright, here’s your bill! we’re closing.”

you put it in front of her, smiling slightly before you turned around to put some glasses in the drawer.

when you looked back to where ellie was, she was gone. only leaving a 200$ note on the plate with the bill and her number written with a pen - text me xx written behind it.

part 2 is out now !! find it right here !

#ceo! ellie #ellie the last of us #ellie tlou #tlou ellie #ellie williams #ellie williams tlou #ellie williams fluff #ellie williams x reader #ellie x fem reader #ellie tlou2 #ellie williams x female reader #ellie x reader

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sundrop-writes · 6 months

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if Mike fell asleep with you...

Word Count: 750

Horror Characters Masterlist

Warnings: this is mostly pure fluff - Mike and the reader are in an established relationship, the reader's gender is not described in any way (the main pronouns used are you/yours), Mike calls the reader angel, the reader takes on a caregiver role for Abby, mostly just short and fluffy. This is set before the main events of the movie, when Mike is working as a security guard at the mall.

A/N: So, I've seen so many people in the tags going 'just let him sleep!!! that man is so exhausted!!' and saying that he's too tired to fuck in the way that people are writing fanfics about him. And as much as I love super horny fics, I do thought this up, because I agree - the man should be allowed to sleep. This is largely inspired by that scene in Grey's Anatomy where Meredith walked in and Owen was asleep on Cristina's chest while she was reading a book (I think it was when she was reading through Mer's mom's diaries?) - anyway. I love that scene so much because it shows how easily he sleeps around her because he's so comfortable around her. And that's why it deeply inspired this. Let him sleep.

...

Mike was exhausted when he came in the door.

He heaved out a sigh as he closed the door behind him, toeing off his shoes - pure, stiff tiredness radiating through his whole body in the worst way.

You knew that sound anywhere.

“Long day?” You inquired gently from your position on the couch, lightly craning your neck to look at him.

He shuffled further into the house in an almost zombie-like fashion, only giving you a solitary grunt in response.

You felt kind of bad that he had been stuck at work late when you had been lucky enough to have a morning shift and been treated to a relaxing evening with Abby. She was a relatively easy kid to take care of, and generally fun to be around.

And after you had put her to bed, you laid out on the couch, relaxing and reading a novel that your friend had recommended. Generally, you were having a nice evening. And it seemed that Mike was not.

As you kept an eye on Mike, you folded over the page of your book to mark it and put it on the coffee table for later.

“Dinner’s on the counter.” You told him. “I made lasagna. I can heat it up for you if you want.”

You hated that before he started dating you, all he knew was freezer burnt crap - but you were slowly showing him how to cook, and a world of vegetables that didn't come in a can.

Mike took off his jacket and the heavy belt he had to wear for work (his large walkie talkie and his taser were in his locker at work, as mandated, but the thing was still damn uncomfortable) and he hung them both up.

He didn’t respond to your queries about dinner as he walked around the couch. Instead of speaking, seeing you laying there so relaxed - the sight was all too inviting, and he eased himself to lay on top of you in a form of very natural intimacy before he grunted a few words into your neck.

“Did Abby eat?” He asked softly as he laid on top of you.

It was oddly comforting to have the bulk of his weight on top of you, especially as he melted against you, letting out a small moan as the tension melted out of his bones. He adjusted himself to get more comfortable and his face rested against the softness of your chest - you glanced down to see that his eyes were drifting closed.

��She ate two platefuls, and had some peas.” You assured him. “Did her homework, had a bath, and she practiced her spelling words before she went to bed.”

Mike grunted again - a more positive pitch to this one. He couldn't ask for anyone better than you. Sometimes he worried about her - all the time. But when Abby was with you, that worry lessened a lot.

“You’re an angel.” He hummed against your chest. “I don’t-” He let out a gentle yawn. “I don’t know how I got so lucky with you.”

“You look hot in a uniform and my job at the bookstore gets boring.” You replied, half-joking about the circumstances of how your relationship with Mike had formed.

You reached out to him and began running your fingers through his hair, soothing him even further into the realm of sleep with the comforting touch.

He let out another tired moan in reply - something that almost stretched into a rolling sound with the gentle pleasure of your hand in his hair. With the way his body was so slack against yours, his breathing even and quiet, you knew this was only leading one place.

“You wanna go get ready for bed?” You asked gently.

“In a minute.” He answered softly, barely parting his lips to get the words out.

You glanced over to the table and reached out, picking your book back up as his breathing deepened and his body went even more slack. You were preparing to get comfortable for the next few hours. You weren’t all that tired yourself, and you still had a few chapters left to go. When you got to the next chapter, he began to snore lightly and you felt drool dripping down your neck - which didn’t bother you all that much. You found it cute, in fact.

You were comforted by the fact that he relaxed enough around you to get such a good sleep. You knew that he needed it.

...

A/N: also, this is my first time posting a fic completely from mobile by copy/pasting something from google docs on my phone. So hopefully the formatting isn't too messed up and hopefully this goes well! And I hope you guys enjoy this short fluffy fic 💖

#sundrop writes #mike schmidt x y/n #mike schmidt x you #mike schmidt x reader #mike schmidt #five nights at freddy's movie #five nights at freddy's #fnaf fanfiction

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wife-of-all-dilfs · 4 months

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lionfish, seahorses, and dolphins, oh my! | f. odair

masterlist

anon's request: noo bc i've been thinking about this for a while (all the time) imagine the reader from district 8 who's with finnick always sewing random fish patterns into his clothes or any cloth-related items bc of his district!!!

warnings: just some cutesy fluff, very very mild suggestive themes

notes: i couldn't not write this request it's so cute. very rushed because i've got another fic in the works ;) stay tuned my beautiful readers <3

word count: 800

Finnick would always invite girlfriend!reader to District Four because this man has major attachment issues, so you practically live at his house and are both attached to the hip. And one day he would find this little lionfish embroidered onto the cuff of his favourite sweater, which oddly resembles the colour of his hair.

His first instinct would be to call out to you. "Sweetheart?"

And you would respond with a "Hm?" from another room in the house, sneakily sewing something onto another item of his clothing. He would be curiously inspecting the little creature that had taken up residence on his shirt as he padded through the house to your whereabouts.

Just as he entered the room you were in, he would begin, "Why is there a—"

He'd cut himself short as he looked up and saw you sitting comfortably in a lounge chair, legs tucked beneath your body, a soft, knitted blanket draped over your lap, and a sewing kit lying on the side table. In your hands were a pair of his pants.

One of his eyebrows raised. "You've got my pants."

You looked up to find him standing in the doorway. "I do," you replied.

He took a step closer. "And you're sewing them."

"I am."

Another step. "And there's a fish sewed onto my sweater..."

You simply smiled at him—an adorable proud little smile. God, you looked so cute he genuinely felt to urge to lean down and pinch your cheeks between his fingers, but then he remembered he was your boyfriend, not your grandmother.

"Not that I'm not in absolute awe of your sewing abilities but—" He chuckled, shaking his head— "why?"

You shrugged, piercing a sewing needle through the waistband of the pants in your lap. "You're from District Four; fishes are kind of your thing, are they not? Plus, it's pretty," you said, then your voice lowered to a soft murmur. "Like you."

His stomach fluttered and he almost giggled like a little girl at your words. Once he got close enough, he kneeled beside the chair you were sitting in, watching as your delicate fingers manoeuvred the needle and yarn into the outline of a seahorse. He smiled to himself.

"Do you think I should start weaving clothes for you? Considering your district's all about making clothes and stuff," he said with a smirk.

"Like a dress made out of netting? It wouldn't leave much to the imagination."

"You won't hear this mouth complaining," Finnick said, the image of you walking around the house clad in a black net dress overcoming his mind.

Your cheeks warmed with a horrible blush and you decided to focus your attention entirely on the seahorse in the effort to overcome the sudden lewd thoughts involving his mouth.

Finnick continued watching in amazement as you managed to turn a few colours of yarn into a beautiful seahorse on the waistband of his pants. He wondered how many other pieces of clothing of his you had managed to infiltrate with various sea creatures. When his eyes caught on a bright blob of colour on the underside of the shirt sleeve he was wearing, he smiled, knowing he had gotten his answer.

His gaze flickered back to you, observing the look of concentration on your face as you sewed—the gentle crinkle of your furrowed brows, the subtle curl of your lips, and every now and then, the small twitch of your nose like that of a bunny, the pink of your blush adding to the image.

He couldn't help but prop his folded arms on the arm of the chair, chin resting on his forearms as he shamelessly and blatantly admired the changes in your facial expressions. He noticed as your eyes began to occasionally flicker toward him, your attention increasingly beginning to drift.

A few minutes later, you exhaled a heavy sigh. "You're so distracting."

"You're so adorable," he replied almost dreamily.

There it was again. The humiliating pink flush of your cheeks.

He grinned, humming a quiet laugh as he rose to his feet to plant a kiss on the top of your head.

"Can I make one request?" he asked.

"Perhaps."

His eyes fell to the lionfish on the shirt in his hands, eyes sparkling with child-like joy. "Sew some of these onto your own clothes so we can match."

A wide smile stretched across your lips.

Within the next week, you and Finnick were a giggling mess, sporting matching sweatshirts embroidered with big blue dolphins, each one's blowhole featuring a small red heart just above.

#wife-of-all-dilfs ✍️#finnick odair #finnick odair x reader #finnick odair x you #finnick odair x fem!reader #finnick odair x oc #finnick odair x y/n #finnick odair imagine #finnick odair fanfic #the hunger games fanfiction #the hunger games #catching fire #mockingjay #mockingjay part 2 #sam claflin

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lilisettean · 3 months

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Glittering Scales | Rafayel/Reader

About: You didn't know what to expected when Rafayel texted you to get him bags of ice near midnight. You thought it was for some art piece he was working on and didn't question it. Turns out, it was for something you did not expect. At all.

Pairing: Rafayel/Reader

Notes: Based on that mermen having 2.... you know.... tweet.

AO3: Read here!

Warnings: Mating, Monster(?)fucking, Tentacle, No protection, Hints of breeding. Please tell me if I missed something! Also 18+ only please. Enjoy :)

“Rafayel?”

Your voice echoed throughout the empty studio. Normally Rafayel would be here to greet you, be it from the floor or on the ladder he sat on while painting. But today he was nowhere to be found.

A faint splash of water down the hallway alerted you to his presence. With a sigh, you followed the sound, your bare feet breaking the quiet that descended upon the studio.

‘Is he painting while in the bathtub again?’ You thought as you carried bags of ice under your arms and in your hands. After going radio silent for a week, he texted you out of nowhere, asking you to get him enough ice to last him for a few days. And while you had half a mind to ask him why and where he had been, curiosity got the best of you and you agreed readily.

Another splash brought you out of your thoughts, and you sighed at what sounded to be impatient flicks of his tail against the water.

“Coming! Coming, jeez–”

The sight of Rafayel sitting in the bathtub, his tail hanging out the edge of it, greeted you. Small puddles of water dotted the tiled floor, his phone lay haphazardly on top of the pile of clothes next to the bathtub. Oddly enough, his painting equipment was nowhere to be found.

Despite having seen his merman form– his original form, you should say, multiple times before, the shimmering blue scales that were on his tail and his skin always enthralled you. And under soft moonlight shining through the full length windows, it looked as though they glowed, drawing you in.

Before you could lift a hand to touch the scales on his tail however, he flicked it, smacking your thigh and dousing your pants with water.

“What took you so long? I am on the verge of death!”

“I had to go around and buy these for you! Why do you need them anyway?” You huffed as you set the bags of ice you bought down to the side. It was almost midnight when his text came and you had to scramble to get at least a few bags for him, lest it wasn’t enough for… whatever he’s doing. The nerve. Pinning him with a stern look, to which he innocently blinked in response, you continued.

“And you don’t get to talk! What took you so long to text me back? You were unreachable for the entire week!”

If it weren’t for the fact that you arrived back in Linkon city mere hours ago, you would’ve gone and visited him as soon as he dropped off the face of the Earth. Rafayel would never go a day without calling you at least once, so when he suddenly did not reply to any of your texts or answer any calls, you knew something was deeply wrong.

Noticing that you were eyeing him critically, he turned away from your gaze, hoping you wouldn’t pick up on anything irregular. But unfortunately for him, you did.

“Are you sick? Why does your face look so red?” Your eyebrows furrowed as you leaned closer to inspect him. You thought it would be impossible for the blush that stained his cheeks to intensify even further, but it did. If anything, it looked like it spread to his ears too.

“Yes– Well, not really but I…” He stuttered, his usual nonchalant demeanor nowhere to be found. To you, it seemed like he was avoiding any sort of eye and skin contact. Interesting.

With a long suffering sigh, he looked towards you again, his eyes pleading. “Please just give me the ice. It’s too hot.”

“Only if you tell me what’s wrong.” You countered, but still tore open the bags anyway. He sighed in contentment the moment the ice came contact with his higher than what should be normal skin temperature. The ice that settled on his skin and his scales would soon melt and you idly wondered if you had to buy more when morning came.

‘There’s a store about 15 minutes away, maybe I should–’ A soft mumble from him interrupted your train of thought. “What did you say?”

Despite you prompting him, it took him another minute before he repeated his words.

“It’s… mating season.”

It took a few more moments before his words registered in your mind. Mating season, he said. What does that have to do with– Oh.

“Oh. And you’re…” Your eyes darted down, not so subtly wondering where his cock would be when in his original form. Nothing out of the ordinary– and was that ironic, saying that there was a merman in front of you ordinary– caught your eye.

To you, anyway. To him, however…

Rafayel drew in a stuttered breath, desperately grasping at the shards of sanity that were slipping away from him. You being unaware of the details pertaining to merman physiology and mating rituals was making him antsy. He should’ve explained the differences between his original form and his human form a long time ago, yet couldn’t as the otherworldliness of it might scare you off. He knew you wouldn’t run away so easily but that apprehensiveness stayed because what if…?

Despite all of this, he couldn’t help but preen under your appreciation for his scales. Merpeople took great care maintaining their scales, and mermen in particular would show off theirs during mating season to attract attention from their intended.

You, being his intended, who was now perched on the edge of the bathtub, touching and admiring his scales, would be interpreted as acceptance to the mating ritual. But there was no ritual, nor request from him, so it was all null and void. He pointedly ignored the disappointment that seeped into his gut. This was for the best and for your own good, he thought, and yet–

“Do you… want me to help you?” You asked as you traced the edges of his scales, not catching the hitch in his breath when your fingers trailed further and further up his tail.

“I’d rather not. My physiology is not what you’d expect.”

“And let you sit here for days on end?”

“...” Rafayel bit his lip. You had a point. The constant neediness brought by his biology made it difficult for him to focus on anything of note. But what if you rejected him once you saw what was in store for you? It would feel like that day all those years ago all over again, when you didn’t remember him despite him spending so much time looking for you.

He shook his head at that. No, he should have more faith in you. And so with much trepidation, he relented. “If you are that determined, I won’t stop you. But…” He trailed off, grabbing your arm and yanked you towards him, causing water to splash out of the bathtub and onto the floor. “Don’t say I didn’t warn you.”

“At least let me take my clothes off–”

“No need.” With a snap of his fingers, his flame Evol materialized and he brought the gentle flame to your clothes. And within seconds, every piece of clothing on you burned away, leaving you exposed to the warm summer’s night air.

“Rafayel!” It always tickled whenever he did that, a fancy trick he liked to use whenever he felt particularly impatient. “How long were you…?”

“Long enough.” He replied, leaning back against the bathtub to let you get used to your new position. You were straddling him, your hips sat upon the upper half of his tail. While the water both of you were submerged in was cold, icy almost, the heat from his body warmed you.

A spot on Rafayel’s tail piqued your curiosity. It was warm and softer to the touch, unlike other places. You reached down to lightly poke at said spot, only for him to hiss in warning.

Oh. Was that where– Then how–

You prodded that spot for a bit, carefully watching Rafayel’s face while figuring out how his merman form worked. He stared right back at you, his pupils dilated and his lips parted as he watched you with interest.

“Rafayel? Can you give me that ability to breathe underwater for a moment? I want to try something…”

He arched his eyebrow at your sudden request, but didn’t comment. Wordlessly, he pulled you closer and into a kiss, wrapping an arm around your torso while tucking a few stray strands of hair that fell on your face.

A simple, chaste kiss was more than enough to give you the ability needed to breath underwater for an hour. And yet he cannot bring himself to pull away from you. If anything, he cannot stop kissing you, cannot stop his tongue from prying your lips open and pushing against yours.

It was only when you needed air that you parted from him, albeit reluctantly. Like his, your face was flushed from the heat and the intensity of the kiss, fueling the growing fire that was threatening to take over within him.

Now equipped with the ability you needed, you shuffled away from him and dived under the cold water both of you sat in. Faintly, you could hear him ask what your goal was, but you only grinned in response.

Over water, his scales looked as though they were shimmering, glinting softly under the lights. But seeing them underwater was another story. They looked iridescent, the water around them making them almost dreamlike in its shine. But as pretty as they were, you were on a mission. A mission to see what Rafayel was hiding from you.

You poked the same soft spot that was on the front of his tail, and with a bit of prodding, you found a well hidden slit between his scales.

‘This must be it then.’ You thought as you brushed over the slit, missing the shuddered breath Rafayel had let out. You dipped a finger into the slit, and found something round– the tip, perhaps– poking at your fingertip.

You circled your fingertip around the head, coaxing it to come forward. And slowly, you feel it inch closer and closer to the opening, with warm slick coating your fingertips before dissipating into the water.

Rafayel sighed as you teased the tip of his cock, if he was in his human form he would’ve been fully hard by now. But he was in his original form, his apprehension to your eventual surprise eating at him, causing him to be slower to react. That didn’t stop his neediness to take over though, as he could feel himself getting closer and closer to revealing himself by the minute.

He was about to ask if you were doing alright, until he felt your lips on his slit. He tossed his head back, groaning at your tongue teasing his opening and his tip. He could feel his cock pushing through his slit, widening it and protruding into your more than eager mouth.

You gasped when you tasted his salty, tangy tip in your mouth. While it tasted the same as his human form, the tip was smoother and coated with more precome than you expected.

The similarities between his human form’s cock and his original form ended there, you quickly realized. As soon as more of his cock emerged from his sheath and into your waiting mouth, you felt there were ridges on the side of it. Fleetingly, you wondered as you dragged your tongue across the ribbed sides, whether there were more surprises waiting for you. This cannot be it, right? There had to be more which would explain his visible apprehension.

As soon as that thought ended though, Rafayel suddenly cradled your chin, and coaxed you to resurface.

Unlike earlier, when he still looked like he had some semblance of control, his stormy purple eyes were now focused, pinning you in place as though you were his prey. The nervousness that was evident before was now gone, replaced with a growing hunger. Hunger that could be only satisfied by having–

“You.” He panted, pulling you closer and closing the too wide gap between you and him. “Are you sure this is what you want?”

“Merpeople… My people mate for life. There will be no going back after this.” He stated, doing his best to ignore his growing cock poking at your inner thigh. He had to warn you before you walk into uncharted territory, clueless to the repercussions again. While this was not life threatening, like the things you usually run head into first, it was severe enough wherein if you had denied the bond that formed afterwards, it would tear him apart.

“I think we are past that point of no return, no? With all the vows I’ve made to you.” You replied as you tucked away the damp strands of hair that clung to his forehead, pressing a reassuring kiss on his temple. And that was true. The promise you made when you two were children, the vow you made next to the hospital fountain late at night. You promised you would never leave his side, so why would you leave now?

Rafayel laughed in relief, burying his face between your breasts as he clung to you. With the emotional hurdle out of the way, what was left was the more physical hurdle. Unlike before, however, he felt less worried about this one now.

“I hope you are prepared then.” He smiled as he littered quick kisses all over your decollete, inching closer to your neck and then your lips. “Because after this…”

“I will never let you go.”

Rafayel captured your lips with his once more, the kiss slow but all the more passionate. With his worries soothed, he slotted his emerging cock against your mound, wanting you to feel the effect you had on him as you kissed.

It wasn’t long before the kisses turned less than chaste. You gasped as he left open mouthed kisses down your neck, suckling on the skin beneath his lips as he thrusted his cock against you. The bumps on the underside of his shaft rubbed and teased your clit perfectly, and you couldn’t help but return the favor by shifting your hips to his rhythm, making him grow thicker and thicker by the moment.

You had a feeling that his cock wasn’t just ribbed while you grinded against him. You can’t exactly explain why, other than there were parts of his shaft that felt… softer to the touch, despite knowing that he’s turned on beyond relief.

“Rafayel–”

“Mmh?” He hummed as his mouth left another love bite on your neck, pausing to admire his handiwork.

“Can I… Will you let me see it?” You asked, reaching down to drag a finger across his tip. He shuddered at your touch, and you felt his cock twitch in interest. It seemed that his drive to mate was slowly taking over, as all he could muster was a nod.

With his permission, you tore away from him, giggling when he whined at the loss of contact. You reassured him with a quick kiss to his cheek, and dodge his clingy hands when you retreated. Inhaling one deep, steadying breath, you steeled yourself, and looked down.

Oh. Oh.

Was that a sight to behold.

Through the clear water, you saw his cock in its full glory. His tip was round, like humans, but that was where the similarities ended. It was flushed dark blue, his cock the same color as his scales.

You dived underwater again to take a closer look, your curiosity getting the best of you. Immediately, you spot that there were bumps and ridges down the shaft and all the way to the base. His cock both intimidated you, and made your walls clench.

But that wasn’t all.

Curled around his cock was a tentacle shaped like a smaller shaft. Like what it was wrapped around, the tentacle flushed blue and had small lumps on the sides. It was slimmer in comparison, but still as thick as his finger. With avid interest, you reached out to touch it, and was surprised when it unfurled itself and curled around your finger, coaxing you to come closer.

Like a creature under a sea witch’s spell, you inched closer, fascinated by the cock in front you. And before you knew it, you curled your fingers around his base, testing how the bumps felt under your skin by stroking it.

Above the surface, Rafayel gasped as you touched both of his cocks, and groaned when you brought both of them to your lips. He was relieved you accepted the otherworldly nature of them without any hesitation, and were even eager to pleasure him.

With both of his cocks in your mouth, you quickly realized that they, especially the smaller one, leaked more precome than expected, perhaps to make up for the lack of lubrication underwater. The salty taste filled your mouth as you circled your tongue around the larger tip, the smaller one pushing against your tongue and stimulating itself. Its movements made your heat clench at nothing again, and you wondered. How would this feel like if he fucked you now?

Rafayel gathered all your hair that was floating underwater, and held it behind your head. He wanted a clear picture of you sucking on his cocks and by God did he want to thrust himself deep into your mouth at the sight. But he relented. You were still new to this and he rather not risk you choking while underwater.

Pulling away from his cocks, you resurfaced one more to admire them from afar, only to be assaulted by another kiss.

Rafayel had enough of his mate being so far from his embrace, he needed you in his arms and on his cock, now. Tugging you towards him again, he maneuvered you so that you would be flush against his cocks, making sure you knew what was in store for you moments later.

Unlike last time where he would grind against you however, he reached down to prod your entrance, spreading your folds with his fingers. You expected him to slip his fingers in but instead, a familiar, yet not, sensation crept in, massaging your soft walls.

“You can control it.” You gasped once realization kicked in, staring at him in bewilderment. He merely blinked in response, and nuzzled the crook of your neck.

“Does that disgust you?” He asked. While you couldn’t see his face, you could feel him tense up, his grip on you unrelenting.

“No! Nothing like that. I was just wondering… What else can it do?”

At your reassurance, he relaxed and continued to nuzzle your neck, nipping at your skin. “You will have to find out.”

“What–”

He pulled the smaller cock away from your heat, and had it latch onto your clit. You whimpered as he teased your clit, its smooth tip and small bumps running along its side sending pleasurable shivers down your spine.

Rafayel ran a finger up your entrance while you were distracted, and clicked his tongue in annoyance. Right. He needed to drain the water around the both of you before he tried anything. The water would wash all of your juices away otherwise and make this experience entirely uncomfortable for you.

He tugged at the stopper and let the water drain away, leaving just enough water for part of his tail to be soaked in water. As the water level dropped, more and more of your skin was exposed to him; the water droplets that clung onto your skin and slid down your body taunted him.

With the water gone and out of the way, you could finally see clearly what his cocks looked like above water. And they did not disappoint.

The amount of precome that dripped out and down his smaller cock was staggering, coating and smearing your clit with every twitch of it. His larger cock was the same as well, precome beaded on the round tip of it before sliding down the ribbed sides, his shaft glistening under the low light.

“Do you like them?” He asked, parting your dripping folds and slipping a finger inside as his smaller cock busied itself with your clit. Your sweet whimpers made both of his cocks throb, and he couldn’t wait to hear your moans when he pushed both of them inside you.

He added another finger, burying it deeper within you as you rode his fingers, your hips having a mind of its own. You were starting to get used to the two different cocks when suddenly, his smaller cock shifted, resting your clit against a dimpled surface and–

“Mmh–!” You whimpered, the realization of him not only having ridges along his cocks, but also having suckers of all things, hit you with full force. It felt similar to having his mouth sucking on your clit, and you fleetingly wondered what if his smaller cock slipped in and sucked on your walls as well.

As though reading your mind, he stopped teasing your clit with it, and slid it inside you, adding what effectively was another finger into the mix, stretching you and satiating that growing ache to have something inside you.

You moaned as his fingers slipped in and out of you, the juices from your heat and his precome mixing together and dripping out of your core. While his smaller cock wasn’t as sensitive as his bigger one, the sensations of your walls dragging against his bumpy shaft made his cocks twitch.

The primal drive to mate, to fuck and to breed coursed through his veins. His instincts screamed at him, demanding him to push his neglected cock in you and breed you properly. It was tempting, too tempting, with you bouncing oh so wantonly on his fingers, your hands holding on to the edges of the bathtub to steady yourself. But he held back.

As much as he wanted you to ride him while he thrusts his hips in sync to your pace– and God did that thought made another bout of precome drip from both of his cocks– he was afraid of what was in store for you. He knew once he was in, those instincts would take over and you would not be able to reason with him until it was over.

He could feel his control slipping with every heartbeat, the lustful haze that was clouding the edges of his mind seeping into the forefront. It was a challenge, a manageable one, until you curled your fingers around his larger cock.

“Nnh–” He groaned, his cock pulsing in your hand as you stroked the underside of it and traced all the bumps it had. It took him a few steadying breaths not to thrust up and rut against your palm.

Through a clouded haze, you fixated upon the cock in your hands as you rode the other. It was bulging and pulsing at different places, with some parts flushed deeper blue than the others. You didn’t fully comprehend it yet, the question of whether you can take it all plagued your mind. All you knew that whatever this was, you wanted in you. Now.

“...Are you sure?” Rafayel asked breathlessly as you pulled his fingers and his smaller cock out of you and teased the larger cock with your heat. You drawing circles on his tip with your entrance made him pulsate, staining you with more precome. His hands were now on your hips and he had half a mind to just push you down his shaft in one go.

“I won’t stop until I’m done, you know.” He cautioned again, one final warning before those little slivers of sanity that he had disappeared like foam. His smaller cock caressed your dripping folds and held them to the side, allowing him better access when he inevitably sank you down his eager cock.

“I know.” You responded as you lowered yourself down, slowly taking his cock in inch by inch. It was hot and the throbbing ridges rubbed against your soft walls, forcing more juices to flow out of you. You paused midway to let yourself get used to the foreign feeling, and watched him as he tried to keep his face in check.

Your tight warm walls made it increasingly difficult for him to hold back, especially when you clenched tentatively around him. He understood why you stopped halfway, as his larger cock grew thicker at the lower half until flaring out at the base. But he felt like you were teasing him at this point, with you dragging the upper half of his cock out and pushing it back in over and over again.

“Darling…” He hissed as you rode him, his grip on your hips vice like. Following your lead, he shallowly pumped his larger cock in and out of you, in tune to the pace you’ve set.

The bumps on the side of his cock grazed your clit with every thrust, and before you knew it, you began to take more and more of him in, your folds spread further and further apart with the help of his smaller cock.

The urge to pull back and slam his hips into you the moment you finally, finally, took the entirety of his larger cock in was overwhelming. He buried his face into the crook of your neck, inhaling a sharp, stuttering breath.

He was fighting a losing battle against his primal instincts, but he had to hold back or–

“Do it.”

Your voice broke through the lust ridden fog that clouded his mind. Did you just give him permission–

“Don’t worry, I can handle it.” You said again, nuzzling the top of his head and patting it. He was tense against you this entire time, strained and a heartbeat away from snapping. You knew he had been waiting for you to be ready, and you couldn’t help but smile at that.

Coaxing him to finally let go of whatever inhibitions he had, you clenched your walls around him once more, forcing a quiet moan out of him. “Please Rafayel… Please fuck me.”

And like a light switch flipping, he dragged his larger cock out without warning, only giving you a second to process before slamming back into you. Every thrust filled you to the brim, and you could feel his hot precome leaking and spreading all over your walls as he thrusted.

“Rafayel– Mmh–” You moaned between open mouthed kisses, his lips capturing yours every time you managed to slip away. One of his hands held you in place as he fucked upwards into you, while the other palmed at your breast, tweaking and brushing over your nipple as your breasts bounced to the pace he had set. You had to wrap your arms around his shoulders then, or else you would’ve toppled at the sheer intensity of his thrusts.

At some point, when you cannot pinpoint exactly anymore, his smaller cock pulled away from your folds and prodded your entrance, slipping inside and pushing against your tight heat. The sudden intrusion forced your half lidded eyes open, and before you could mention it, the suckers dotted on the underside of his smaller cock grazed your walls, gently sucking on you from the inside.

Rafayel listened attentively to your moans as he sucked on the skin of your neck, leaving numerous bites and markings on you. His rational mind was now gone, replaced by his need to pleasure and breed his beautiful mate. He nuzzled your neck once more, your lovely moans encouraging him to keep going, spurring him on.

The steady tension that was building within your abdomen threatened to snap with every heartbeat, and you could feel yourself being close, so close, to that high that Rafayel was pushing you towards. You couldn’t help but move your hips along to his erratic rhythm, anything to get yourself closer to that point.

As though sensing your desperation, which was not difficult considering your walls fluttered more and more around him, clenching and squeezing him oh so sinfully, he pulled his smaller cock out of your heat and grinded the underside of it against your clit.

“Rafayel–!” The sensation of his suckers pulling at your clit drove you over the edge. Like a coil snapping under pressure, your heat tightened around his cock as you reached that high, clenching and spasming around it.

“My mate…” He breathed out, not once stopping to give you a break as you navigated through the pleasure he brought to you. The way your walls clasped around him as you were pushed over the edge brought his own high forward, forcing a growl past his lips as he suddenly pushed both of his cocks as deep as he could within you before letting his come spill over, releasing as much as he could inside you.

He didn’t stop there however, he continued to pump his cocks deep into you, hoping to push his essence deeper inside with a few more unsteady thrusts.

As you paused to regain your breath, he pulled away from your neck and brushed the hair that fell messily on your face away, and kissed you as tenderly as possible.

He looked calmer now, content even, compared to how he was before. The tension that was present on his shoulders and eyebrows was gone, dissipated along with the apprehension that he had about showing you the entirety of his original form.

A sudden glint in the corner caught your eye. It was your phone, its screen turning on most likely because of someone texting you. Next to it was your belongings and–

Oh. You forgot about the ice.

“You should’ve told me this was going to happen instead of making me buy ice for you.” You laughed, seeing that the bags of ice had now turned into bags of water with ice chips in it. They weren’t that expensive so you didn’t really mind, but the time you spent scouring shops that were still open close to midnight was now rendered unnecessary.

Rafayel kissed your cheek and nuzzled you, still basking in the afterglow under the moonlight. “...I was scared you would reject me.” He confessed, still clinging onto you like a lifeline. “Will you let me make it up to you?”

You were about to ask how he would do that when you were acutely reminded of his cocks still being inside you, still stiff and ready for another round.

“How–”

“It is mating season after all.” He simply replied, and you noted that his eyes suddenly had a predatory glint to them, making your heat clench again and your heart race.

“You, my darling mate… are going nowhere.”

#love and deepspace #love and deep space #love and deepspace rafayel x reader #love and deep space rafayel x reader #uh. yeah. theres tentacle #i dont even main this guy and YET #this idea was living in my brain rent free so i had to write it out

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fictionalslvr · 9 months

Text

Part two part three

SYNOPSIS:Ghost is your new neighbor in your apartment complex, everyone is afraid of him, but not you. You're the only one to be kind with him.

PAIRING: (Based of comic but that's not 100% canon) Simon Riley neighbor x F¡Reader

WORD COUNT:3.500k

WARNINGS: Fluffy, angst, mentions of blood, war, s.a (not directly) etc.

NOTES:Ghost past is based on his comics, i'll prob make this one a mini serie (if you guys like), a lot different then what i usually write for, but i hope you guys enjoy without being what you guys are used on this blog, i'm planning to write both, angst and smut, even mix them sometimes. So, i hope you guys enjoy :(

(And again, tell me if there's something wrong, english is not my first language.)

It’s been a long while since you lived alone, and it’s been a very comfortable life since then. At first, it made you feel uneasy, after a long while, you were getting used to it, and having a place to call yours it’s everything you wanted before. Your apartment is cozy, organized with things you like, and you always try your best to keep it clean. The neighborhood is quite calm as well, you were living peacefully in this apartment complex.

That was until a new neighbor came in. He was a tall guy, he had a mysterious aura around him, it’s the quiet type and you don’t hear him speaking so often, actually, you never heard. To be honest, he doesn’t stay in his apartment too much, it’s the one above you, and hearing him it’s unusual. Maybe it is his work that keeps him so far for too long, you can’t say exactly what he works with, since you don’t know him properly. The only thing you know is that he keeps his face a mystery, always walking with a black balaclava that shows only his eyes, and this is a mystery you were dying to get to know. One day, while walking back to your humble home, you took the same elevator as the new neighbor, the silence that creeps out is weird, and you keep your eyes everywhere, but not on him. The silence was bizarre, and it seemed like it was going to take forever! When the elevator door opens in your floor, you can only rushes out of that tiny place with that man, that almost make you hyperventilate.

He looked calm during it, laying his back in the walls while his arms were crossed and he was looking distracted. With a quick but gentle movement, you just nod your head to him when leaves, he looks surprised by it, and nods back after some seconds staring at you. The metal door closes slowly, showing no more his figure.

But your encounters with him were always like this. Some head nods and sometimes a smile from your part, But the mystery this man is, no one knows him well enough for a talk, and this was making you insane, All days, you caught yourself thinking about him, how his voice sounded like, how his face is behind that mask, what he works with, what is his name, his age..things like that kept haunting your thoughts. Until one day, you decided to make a slight move, asking for some ingredient would be a great way to hear his voice, and maybe later baking him something to give it to him.

You sigh, you heard some footsteps, he must be home today. You knock on the door, gently with your hands shaking. It doesn’t take too much until your ears peak with the sound of him getting close to the door. His figure appears when he opens just half of the door.

—”May I help you?” —His voice is raspy, calm and relaxed at the same time. You notice how he has a strong British accent. From this distance, you can smell his scent, it’s strong and smells like whiskey and cigarettes, it’s oddly…comforting.

—”Sorry for bothering, I'm the neighbor below, I just want to know…if you have some sugar to give, by any chance.” —With a cute smile, you show him a little bowl in your hands that he can put the sugar in, the man narrows his eyes at you and nods.

—”Yes, I do. wait a minute.” — His fingers brush against yours when he takes the bowl in your hands and goes inside for a while. He leaves the door slightly open, and you just wait outside hearing his heavy footsteps around the house. When he’s back, your little bowl is filled with sugar, and he gives it back to you, his fingers brushing yours again.

—”Thanks, this will help a lot. I’m making cookies…would you like some?” — Your gentle voice was hard to ignore, he slowly nodded, and you can hear a little chuckle escaping his lips. It’s very good to hear, you felt your heart skipping a beat, he’s leaning against the door frame, looking at you.

—”Thanks for the sugar, I'm [name] by the way." —He keeps silent for a while, like he’s listening to your voice attentively.

—”It was nothing. I’m glad to help you, [name].”—You were expecting that he would say his name, but he just tries your name on his tongue. The tense ambient between you two is noticeable when the silence is back. You can only hum softly and look away.

—’What is…your name?”

—Simon. Call me Simon.”

—”Oh…okay Simon, thanks again and pleasure to meet you. Goodbye!”—Was a short talk, but it was enough to make your heart flutter with the warmth of his voice. You wave at him and he waves back, then all you can see is his back turning, his figure fading inside his house.

Quickly, you made your way back, still shivering a little, scared that he might think you’re weird. With a loud sigh, you close the door behind you, feeling safe inside your home. You know his name now…Simon. His voice is raspy and deep, and yet, makes you feel like you want to hear this voice every morning, the warmth of his body so close, his dark eyes staring at you making your legs weak. Everything about him didn't sound cold as they describe him.

He wasn’t that cold, deep and dark, no. He sounded so sweet and endearing to you, you just wish you could meet him better, talk to him more, listen to his voice, feel his presence towering at you, his expressions that you can only understand by his eyes, and you find this very beautiful, understand his feeling through his eyes, hear his warm chuckle filling the hall and not leaving your ears. It was memorable, even if it looked silly or too short. You felt really happy for doing that ‘move’.

Your kitchen is filled by a sweet smell, it’s the cookies you baked, with cute gloves around your hands, you take the plate with cookies and blow the steam off softly, Okay…you should give this to Simon now. You left a cute note too, that says ‘Enjoy the cookies, i hope its good :D’

After one hour of your visit, Simon doesn't stop thinking about his neighbor. You're sweet, you're the only one in this complex that had the courage to talk to him, the other ones just look at him from afar and give him some judgmental glances. But you...you came to talk, and was smiling too! That definitely means you're not afraid of him, that you're willing to talk to him even when he's using that balaclava all the time. His thoughts are interrupted by some knock on his door, and weirdly…he hopes it's you again. He walks to the door and opens, with some kind of rush, but he doesn't see your cute smiling figure, no…he looks everywhere and there's no sight of you, but looking down, he finds a little plate painted with flowers, there's some cookies on it and a note too. He bends his body down a little and smiles through the balaclava. Picking up the plate, he can sense the smell of the warm cookies, it's still a bit hot, the steam in the air, blowing a delightful scent. He enters his apartament again, closing the door with his feet as he looks at the cookies in his hands, they look delicious. Simon starts to read the post-it in the plate, it has a message for him

"Enjoy the cookies, i hope it's good :D"

-[Name]

That's cute, he thought. It takes a chuckle out of him. His stomach starts to snore in hunger, that smell filling his brain and all he can think about is…why is she being so nice? No one in this complex was ever this nice with him, somehow, they seem to be scared of him, disgusted, or even feel pity for him. But being kind? She's the first one and all he can think about is the reasons she's doing this. He's a stoic soldier, who works a lot, doesn't stay at home too much, smells of whiskey and cigarettes, he doesn't show his face, he's tall, looks scary…why is she not afraid of Simon? He sighs and shakes his head. Sitting on his couch with a loud sigh, he rests his head back while eating her cookies, it's indeed delicious as the smell, it's house made and tastes like love. He can't help but leave a joyful hum at the taste.

—"Why is this so good?" —He talks to himself, that seems a little crazy, but he's his only company for a long while, so he's used to this. She could have poisoned him with these cookies, but no, her intentions were good. He's a cautious man, always thinking of his work, and his work only. But now? He can only taste these good cookies and wish for more, he wishes he could taste a lot of things that she made, seeing her cooking would be adorable, and the taste and smell of it only fills his heart with love, the love he never experienced before. Simon caught himself thinking of being with her, on her apartment, seeing her cook while she mumbles a song to herself, moving her body along the kitchen so cutely, he can't help but think that he wants this for his life, this peaceful mind for once, being at easy, without all the fear his work provides. And for once, rest his mind.

But she's only a kind neighbor, he shouldn't be thinking of this. He shouldn't be thinking of coming back after a long mission, and seeing her lips curling into a smile, feeling her little arms hugging him because she missed him too much, he doesn't have this. And he thinks he didn't even deserve this peace. All the people he killed with his hands, the blood he dropped, the fear in people's gaze when he's around, he's not the one who should be at a comfort in home, happy and living good, no. He thinks he doesn't deserve this at all. She's probably just being kind, why would she enjoy his company after all? He doesn't have anything good in him, he's only a stoic man, with scars, a bad past and a hard work to do that makes his hands dirty. He's sure a man like him doesn't have this.

As for you, you didn't want to bother him with your presence again, so you just left the cookies on his door, rushing back to the elevator when you knocked on the door. You wish you could see his reaction, but you don't want to disturb his peace once more, talking a lot while he just listens. You really wish he liked it. While you're on your couch, your legs are moving up and down quickly, in a nervous movement, you can't help but bite your nails, your other fingers fidgeting on your lap, as your mind is full of thoughts about his reaction. Will he like it? What if he finds you annoying? What if he finds you weird and doesn't want you around? Gosh, your mind is tricking yourself. You sigh loudly and decide to try some sleep, this will maybe put your mind at ease once, meeting new people wasn't that easy for you.

By the morning, you woke up, not from the sunlight on your body, flashing on your eyes, not from the discomfort in your back from your sleeping positions, not from your cat resting in your tummy, none of this. But, you woke up by the sound of a knock in your door, a single one, who could be this early? You get up, leaving your little cat resting now in the bed, the sunlight keeping her warm. Your vision is still a little blurry, you rub your eyes with your fingers and walk to the door, opening without thinking too much about it, and the sight of who’s here messes your mind, making your vision immediately fix alone and your mind races, the sleep left your body.

—”Sorry for appearing so early. I am…going to work. And just wanted to say thanks for the cookies last night, they were delicious.” —Simon spoke softly, he seems not sleepy at all now, but his baggy eyes show that maybe he didn’t sleep, that’s why he’s so energetic now. You blush softly, his voice is even more deep in the morning, that British accent never leaving his tongue as he speaks.

—”Oh, that’s okay, I'm glad you liked it, Simon.” —Your voice sounded dragged by the remaining sleep, but you managed to give him a little smile. You want to know what he works with to leave this early.

—”I can see you were sleeping, sorry.” —Simon looks away, scratching the back of his neck even with the balaclava, scratching the silk of it. You look at your body and notice you're with your pajamas, it’s an old one, that is now short for you, and you can’t help but blush for Simon seeing you like this.

—”Don’t worry about it. Would you…like some coffee?” —You try to change the subject, hoping he won’t talk about your pajamas. A silence stays for a long while, Simon looks into your eyes, he’s surprised about your offer and it's visible. He can only nod and mumbles under his breath. He knows that he shouldn't be accepting this, he doesn’t deserve to have a calm breakfast, with someone who doesn't look at him disgusted by his acts, someone that is too innocent, that doesn't know what those hands did, what his ears listened to, what his eyes saw. For a brief second, he had a flashback of his past, everything he did. You're kind because you don’t know this man, don’t know the danger he could be to someone so innocent like you, who could literally break you with those blood painted hands.

You invite him inside, he’s now on your table, tapping his fingers on your table, as your figure is with you back turned to him, making coffee. This house is so cozy, warm and…a bit feminine, he could say. Simon looks in every detail, noticing how there's a lot of photos of you with what seems to be your family. You have someone that cares about you, everything he had vanished like dust, you’re so lucky for having a family. He wonders, if your family would take care of him too, if they would accept him like a son, and yet…he doesn’t have nothing with you, just some small talk. Maybe he is only overthinking. Your voice snaps him out of a trance, while he looks at your photos around the house.

—”How do you like your coffee? With sugar?”—He drives his attention to you again, who’s looking at him from your shoulder. He likes sugar, it’s something that can distract him from his bitter life.

—”With sugar, please.” —And after a while, in a good and comforting silence, you pour the coffee in two cups, putting one in front of the man on her table. He looks so much bigger than her chair, it’s a little funny, in a good way. The steam flows from their cups as Simon looks down to it, his face is hard to read, after all, only his eyes appear. Then, you caught yourself wondering, how he would drink the coffee with that balaclava.

—”I won’t look, i promise.”—You looks away, while blowing the steam and taking a sip of your coffee to disguise your nervous manner, bad idea, it was hot as hell, it burn your tongue, and you hiss in pain, dropping the cup back into the table quickly, happily, it didn’t break, You make a pout with your lips, your tongue hurts a lot now.

—”Oh, are you…okay?” —Simon left everything he was thinking behind and walked in front of you. He kneels down to level his height, since you’re sitting in the chair. His figure bends down to yours, his hands are shaking when he touches your arm slightly, like he’s afraid to make you uncomfortable.

—”Is’h okay…”—Your voice sounds weird, since your tongue hurts, you can’t speak properly. Simon takes a cup from your sink and pour the sink water on it, it’s not cold, neither hot. He kneels back, looking up to your eyes and giving you the cup with water.

—”Here, warm water will help.” —You do as he advises and drink the water without hesitation. The burden sensation easen a little, he seems to know what to do in this kind of situation.

—”How did you knew…thanks.”—Deciding to interrupt your question, you just say thanks to him. He looks right into your eyes, his expression seems softer a little, seeing you’re a little better.

—”My job…makes me learn how to prepare yourself for all kinds of situations.” —He talks a little about his job, not revealing what exactly it is. You look down at him, keeling down on his knees while looking worried about you, his hands still shaking, wandering on his knees, not touching you to make you uncomfortable. After all he passed through, he wouldn’t want someone like you to feel the same.

—”Thanks, it helped somehow. You’re really prepared for this.”

—”It’s my job to protect people. We have our ways to do so.” —Simon gets up from the ground and walks back to his chair, in front of you, slightly he lifts up his balaclava, revealing only his mouth and drinks a sip. The coffee it's not as hot as it was before. In a sign of respect, you look away, not wanting to invade his privacy, and he appreciates this a lot. After the burden sensation ends, you drink your now cold coffee, both in silence as you look away all the time, even with the curiosity to see his lips, you won’t do it. And by his words, you can guess what he works with…maybe he’s a doctor, a firefighter…a military?

—”The coffee is delicious, thanks for this.”—He feels himself going back to when his mom was alive, she was the only one who would really care about him, making him coffee…and this moment reminds him about her. It still hurts. A lot. He sighs softly, and you can say he’s thinking about something, but you won’t ask.

—”You often stay a lot of days out for work, no? Seems like a hard job.”

—”A very hard one, everything I do, changes a life. Big choices, big responsibilities…”

—”I understand…at least, I hope you can rest when you’re at home.”

—”It depends. I don’t really have any time to rest.” —You can hear Simon sigh, he’s really tired of this job. You still look away, not seeing his lips exposed a little. This moment, it’s the first one he could rest, even for a bit, not rest his body, but rest his mind.

—”And…will you stay out for days this time?”

—”Who knows.”

It’s not a question, it’s a statement. What a bad life he has, staying out for days, and when he’s back, he can’t even rest his mind. This moment, he wishes he could live like this forever, hearing your soft voice as you look around to respect his privacy, he didn’t even need to ask for, you knew somehow. Your cozy and warm apartment, it’s a lot different from his, his is almost empty, boring, sad. But yours? Had memories, life, and happiness. He wishes he could stay there forever. And he knows his duty, saving the world, saving citizens, or he could say…killing lives on exchange to save others. Making his hands dirty, so no one would need to do, only to see people like you, who has a family, a happy life, a rested mind, that’s why he does his job, so people like you can live without worries. In exchange, he sees things horrific, he hears screams in his ears that live on his mind, his body ends up tired and sore from all of this, just to see your smile on your face. He had a terrible childhood, he fought for his life, lost everything that was dear to him, in order to keep the peace in the world. In order to meet you, to see your brilliant smile. At least, he likes to think that way, this makes his life less insignificant, it’s like he’s a hero, when he knows he’s not. It’s just better to see this way, and hope it’s the truth, hope it’s not his imagination, trying to make him less guilty for everything he did all his life.

#fanfic #fictionalslvr #ghost call of duty #ghost cod #simon ghost riley #ghost #simon riley x you #simon riley x reader #cod x reader #cod mwii #cod mw2 #call of duty #fluffy #light angst #angst

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missmeinyourbones · 3 months

Text

HOOKED ON HER FLESH

cw: afab!reader, fingering, pussy job, penetrative sex, pet names used (pretty girl, baby, etc), suckin and fuckin in the bath, raw fucking but this is not real so practice safe sex my friends

The click of the front door is dull, and Rintaro can feel the burn in his calves when he bends down to place his gym bag beside the few pairs of tossed shoes by the entryway.

If you were on the couch like he'd half expected you to be, you'd scold him for leaving it there knowing one of you always trips over it. But you're not.

It's late, almost 11 PM when he returns home from a long day of training. The apartment is dim and oddly still when he weakly calls out to address his presence. With still no answer, he makes his way down the dark hallway with nothing but the kitchen light illuminating the space.

The second place he checks is the bedroom.

Weirdly enough, you're not there either. But before he even gets the opportunity to worry, he spots an outline of light shining through the closed bathroom door in his peripheral.

Quietly entering the bathroom, he's not all that surprised to find you sponging in the water, eyes closed and hair carelessly clipped up.

You're not asleep—he can tell by your breathing. He notes the glass of red slightly sipped on as it balances on the back ledge of the toilet.

He leans against the door frame, admiring you while he can before you shy away and refuse to let him. It's somewhat muggy in the room from the steam, and he gathers that you've been marinating for a while based on the drops of sweat beading in your supple creases and cleavage.

When the nippy draft of the open door finally makes its way to you, you crack your eyes open and jump a bit at the unexpected figure in the doorway.

Your face cushions a bit when you realize it's him, "God, you scared me. When did you get home?"

"Just now," he placates, making his way over to kneel beside you at the edge of the tub. That singeing ache returns in his calves, but he doesn't seem to care when he's this close to you, counting the steam droplets adorning your cheeks and eyelashes.

You're heavy with sleep when you reach for him, "How was practice?"

He hums in acknowledgment, letting his thumb trace your jaw in a gentle touch.

"Nothin' special," he shakes his head before smiling a bit at your drowsy murmurs. "Tired, baby?"

You nod along against his hand, "A little, yeah."

Opening your eyes, you admire your lover; he's tired too, the subtle lines of worry and fatigue marking his handsome face. Your eyes flicker to his blunt bangs, damp and sticking to his forehead.

Your fingers find them easily, brushing them off of his eyebrows and causing him to crinkle his nose. "You already showered?"

"Yeah," it's his turn to close his eyes. "Took a quick one before I left. Figured it was easier."

You seem pleased with his answer as you relax further into the water. "Good, 'cause I really didn't wanna have to get out."

He shakes his head in amusement, fingertips gently caressing your eyebrows and lids when he asks, "Why're you even in here?"

"What do you mean?"

"You only take baths if you're like, stressed or something."

"Not really stressed," you breathe, though the sigh entwined in your words betrays your point, "just wanted to relax a bit. Feel like I've been a bit wound up these past few days."

Rintaro nods but bites his tongue. His mind filters through the handful of times you've been a bit snippy with him this week. When he forgot to take out the trash and you called him annoying. When his shower went on just a few minutes too long, leaving the hot water merely lukewarm and you cursing at him. Just this morning, when the two of you were buzzing around the kitchen preparing for your days—he used the last of the milk in his coffee and didn't write it down on the grocery list, resulting in a glare from you and a passive-aggressive nudge towards the notepad on the counter.

As if noting the gears turning in his head, you whisper above the sound of water gently sloshing beneath you as you readjust your legs over the side of the tub.

"I'm sorry I've been kind of a bitch."

Rintaro chuckles and it sounds like love. His tone is light and airy when he squeezes your hand in solidarity, "I like you a little bitchy."

You roll your eyes, though both of you know it's harmless, and a warming silence comfortably overtakes your tiny apartment bathroom.

Rintaro thinks he's subtle, and maybe he is to anyone who isn't you, but you know him, and you know that his tender touches trailing from your hand to your leg are filled with both love and something a bit more desperate.

"So," his hand slowly caresses your damp leg as it dangles outside of the water, "wound up, huh?"

A glare is sent his way but the smiling pulling at your lips encourages him.

"Can I help?" His thumb applies some pressure to your calf, rubbing slow circles to the tender muscle and ears perking up at your soft sighs.

"You don't have to, you're probably tired and—”

He interrupts your weak restraint with a rough whisper against your cold ankle, "I'm never too tired to make you cum, let's get that straight."

He hears you kiss your teeth as his vulgarity, "I'm just saying, I'm okay."

And Rintaro does what he does best, and doesn't take no for an answer.

"Well, what if I want to?" he purrs against your skin, "What about my needs?"

"Your needs of making me cum?" you scoff behind a smirk.

"Exactly."

Sitting up a bit to better see you, he prompts you to uncross your legs with a gentle pry of his hand. You obey and spread yourself against the front of the bath, heels against the sides of the cold ceramic as he slips a sluggish hand between your thighs.

He can feel the slick already forming submerged in the water as he teases an experimental finger through your folds. Taking his sweet time, he brings his thumb to brush against your untouched clit, and grins like a wolf when you whimper and jolt at the slight friction.

You hear Rintaro laugh through his nose. "Yeah, you're okay?" he smugly prompts.

You close your eyes at the feeling, too needy to care about his mocking, "Shut up."

You can't see his smirk but you know it's there all the same. He plays with you without any urgency, mindlessly enjoying rolling your nub between his pointer and thumb, greedily inhaling each and every one of your gasps and mewls.

Once he's pleased with his mess of you, he allows a fingertip to just barely dip inside of your heat. Painfully slow and deliberate, he lets it barely sink into you before it pulls itself out, repeating the movement slowly.

He's fucking with you openly, giving you a sinful taste of the feeling you're addicted to without any actual benefits of it. You know he wants you to break, and you can't even bring yourself to put up a fight with your dwindling restraint slipping through your pruney fingers.

With a prod of his finger that goes just slightly deeper than the rest, you whine in frustration and reach for his arm.

"Rin," your hand wraps around his flexed bicep, to both steady yourself and prompt him to do more.

He ignores your pleas, continuing to give you just enough to squirm and thrash at his repeated actions. He knows your lack of patience at his hand—if he hadn't made you so greedy, you'd just take what he gives you.

But Rintaro learned long ago that he's a weak man when it comes to you. He's always going to give you exactly what you want—he's just going to be annoying about it first.

He lets it continue for a bit longer before you finally whine and dig your nails into his bicep.

"Stop—fucking doing that…need—” your words falter into tiny little whimpers as he continues a steady pulse on your clit.

"Need?" his eyebrows raise in a delight that mimics the devil.

You go to close your legs in instinct, but Rintaro's free hand uses its palm to hold you open. The still water in the bath splashes against your movements as your chest heaves with a need that he's not even close to giving you.

Somewhere between mocking and comforting, he tuts and coos at your frustration. His fingers stay steady as he kisses your neck, licking the sweat mixed with citrus-scented salt from your relaxation.

He taunts, "Gotta use your words, pretty."

"Need you," crawls pathetically from your throat, "you asshole."

Rintaro smiles, baring fangs you're not one hundred percent sure are actually there or not. For once, he says nothing as he finally sinks a full finger into your eager cunt.

You gasp at the pressure and he follows suit, almost mimicking your hiccups and whimpers as if he too feels what you feel. With every exhale of yours, he's unashamed in inhaling the sweet sounds, trying to savor them by tasting them for his own.

One finger turns to two, and time doesn't exist as you're rocking against his palm and losing yourself between the splashing water and his mouth on your neck.

"Look at you," he presses kisses anywhere he can, "my pretty baby."

I'm—fuck," your legs try to jostle shut again but they're unsuccessful as Rintaro continues his pace.

"It's okay," he sweetly mocks your shaky attempts to reach your high. His teeth move to sink into the outside of your thigh when he tells you, "Just relax for me."

Feeling you clench around him in a manner that's far too familiar, he changes his movements in a way he knows gets you there every time. Curling his fingertips upwards and lingering a bit too long against that spongey ribbed spot inside of you, you nearly jump out of the water at the harsh sensation.

Suna laughs, holding you down as your nails sink into his wrist in an attempt to ground yourself.

He continues against your feeble tries, mentally checking all of the boxes for when he knows you're about to lose it. When you get to the babbling nonsense and begging for quite literally nothing stage, he decides it's time.

A gentle kiss prods against your temple, "Talk to me, pretty."

"Feels good—so fucking good, I—” Your back arches and flexes against the water, desperately trying to reach your approaching high.

"You gonna cum for me?" he breathes through a smile.

You can't speak, nodding furiously and mindlessly as you feel yourself reach your peak. The churning inside of you unravels like a wave, and you can feel your hips bucking themselves upwards without meaning to for the sake of release.

Your lover doesn't let up, rubbing and curling and cooing you through your high. You don't even hear him, can barely feel him anymore as he milks you for all he can before giving you a break and moving his loving touches to your legs and neck.

"Feelin' good?" he's out of breath from watching you perform for him.

Between how tired you were before, let alone how hard he'd just fucked you on his fingers, he expects you to be spent. He's undeniably hard—only human, after all—but with the way your eyes can barely stay open, he mentally plans to get you settled in bed before leaving himself quickly and joining you.

But he's never been more willing to be wrong when you whisper against his bicep, planting wet and messy kisses across his skin in an attempt (as if one was even needed) to persuade him.

He can feel you beam against his skin when you mewl and pant, "Think I need the real thing now."

"The real thing?" his voice octaves in a condescending sweetness.

You're pulling at his cloth-covered torso when you groan, "You know what I mean."

"That wasn't real? You left fucking crescents on my wrist—”

"Rin," you cut him off with a groan, looking up at him all teary and needy and so fucking pretty he thinks he could cry. "Please?"

You watch his chest inflate with a sharp inhale as his eyes rake over your malleable form. His tongue skims his canine when he chuckles and shakes his head.

"Fuck you."

He's undressed and on top of you in the water within seconds.

"Condom?" he heaves into your neck, practically swallowing you whole between breathy groans.

He feels you shake your head and he kisses his teeth in aggravation. "What'd I say about words, baby?"

"No," you nearly hiss, before following it up with a velvety, "just wanna feel you this time, please."

Rintaro groans into your chest and subconsciously bucks his hips against you, "Fuck, okay. Okay, baby."

He takes his time when lining himself up with you, letting his pink tip acquaint itself with your puffy folds like it's the first time. He feels a pull inside of him that egnites when he realizes, it's not the first time, and over his dead body will there ever be a last.

He watches beneath the water as his pre-cum smears itself all over your pussy, sticky and webbed as it dissolves under the water. He flicks himself across your clit, tapping heavily against you when you softly cry at the sensitivity. He lets out sounds of amusement at your feeble protests.

"Don't—” you hiccup as he runs his shaft between your folds, "—be a dick."

"Shut up," he quickly kisses your lips, "I got you—"

As he breathes, he unhurriedly sinks himself into you, relishing in the way you both inhale one another at the stretch. Breathing in one another's gasps and shivers, he lets himself ease in and out of you until he's completely bottomed out and pressing his weight onto your abdomen to hear you shiver.

It's all sweaty kisses and desperate licks as you meet his movements, pulling as he pushes and taking everything one another can offer. And it is everything—you'd never give anything less.

You can tell he's slowly losing his composure, but he does a good job of keeping up with his long and intentional strokes. He means to leave no inch of you untouched, wants you to remember the feeling every time he's away and you find your hand snaking its way between your legs.

"I love you," falls from your lips like the wine you neglected from the untouched glass that sits a few feet from you. And Rintaro swallows it greedily, tastes its rich red and white and pink before spewing it right back for you to keep as your own.

His thrusts become more sloppy and frantic as he feels himself reaching the brink of his climax. "I love you, shit—love you, I love you."

He comes in bursts of heat and desperation, and with a few more needy strokes and circles on your clit, you follow suit behind him. Spent and sticky with cramping limbs in your tiny tub, Rintaro coddles you through shaky whimpers and sore muscles.

"So fuckin' pretty," he breathes between kisses, to you or himself, he doesn't think he'll ever know the difference. "My baby."

Touches turn lazy and tender, and breathing is now slow and steady when Rintaro adjusts himself with a groan and sits upwards. He reaches for your unattended wine glass, taking a strong swig and raising his eyebrows in jest when you roll your eyes and laugh at him.

He then holds it to your lips, gently leaning your jaw back as you take a sip of your own. You swear that his eyes have stars in them, and while you don't know it, yours gape the same right back at him.

Sinking into the water on the opposite end of the cramped bathtub, he grabs your leg and hooks it upon his shoulder, leaving a gentle kiss to your ankle before letting his head loll to the side.

"This water's fucking freezing now," he mumbles, eyes closed.

But his spirits lift when he hears you giggle at his declaration, opening his eyes and smiling behind a scowl to catch you lazily tossing your head back in amusement.

"It was nice before you got in," you shrug, rubbing your ankle against his ear just to watch him whine at the motion, "so it must just be you."

Rintaro hums in faux agreement, turning to weakly gnaw on your calf before kissing the crescents indented from his front teeth.

"Keep it up and I'll keep your pruney ass right here all night."

#suna x reader #suna x you #suna rintaro x reader #suna rintaro #suna rintaro x you #suna smut #suna rintaro smut #suna haikyuu #suna hq #suna fic #suna rintaro fic

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zomboys-blog · 3 months

Text

i only want you to want me.

summary: clarisse refuses to accept the fact that she likes you until her siblings push her to admit it by setting you up on a date with the one and only percy jackson.

pairings: clarisse la rue x fem aphrodite!reader

spoiler: fluff, semi slow burn?, super cute

•~•~•~•~•~•~•~•~•~•~•~•~•~•~•~•~•~•~

it was around 5pm, clarisse sat at the dining hall scraping away after a massive food fight started by luke, it was punishment for the stunt she had pulled at the capture the flag game today, clarisse thought that getting her spear broken was punishment enough but chiron thought differently.

“need any help?” a voice spoke from behind clarisse, scaring her due to the fact clarisse had no clue there was someone behind her, she quickly turned around only to find possibly the most beautiful women she’s ever seen, clarisse felt a weird sensation in her chest.

“who are you?” clarisse spoke softly for once in her life, almost scared that nothing would come out. Oddly enough she felt weird around this mysterious person almost as if she were in a trance.

“im Y/N, from the aphrodite cabin. You must be clarisse? chiron told me, well forced me actually to come out here and help you.” Y/N? a beautiful name was the only thought going through clarisses mind, the next words that came out of clarisses mouth were hoarse, her mouth felt dry but her hands felt sweaty, she knew what this was, ‘charms speak’ the ability only gained if you were a child of aphrodite.

“what’d you do?” clarisse refused to let this power take hold of her and took slow and calm breaths to ease her racing heart.

“to put it simply some kid ran into me back there and i did kind of use my charms speak to get him to steal from chiron..” this surprised clarisse as you had seemed so innocent but she out of all people knew how looks could deceive.

“well are you just going to stand there or pick up a mop and a bucket?” clarisse spoke harshly as she continued to scrub the food on the walls

•~•~•~•~•~•~•~•~•~•~•~•~•~•~•~•~•~•~

“hey is that clari i see?!” Y/N spoke whole heartedly as she ran up to give clarisse a hug, which she quickly put a stop to.

“first don’t call me that and secondly lower your voice.” clarisse had barked out, you knew clarisse had meant her words with the way she chewed the inside of her cheek, since that day, months ago spent cleaning the mess hall, you and clarisse had spent a lot of time together which lead to a lot of things, one a new found hatred for percy jackson and two a new found crush for the one and only clarisse la rue.

“why, what are we doing?” Y/N spoke in a hasty whisper while looking around childishly.

“i wanted to watch percy jackson practice archery, i’m trying to figure out who his father is. There’s no way someone with hermes as there father could beat a minotaur, it’s either he’s lying! or his father is someone of great power and i want to know who.” clarisse spoke as she walked into the archery practice grounds making eye contact with Y/N taking in all her beautiful features until a wild arrow came flying towards Y/N’s eye.

“holy shit Y/N look out!-“ it was mere seconds before the arrow was inches away from Y/N’s face, clarisse reached a hand out to grab it, but her reaction time wasn’t quick enough.

Y/N shut her eyes as quickly as possible waiting to feel a sharp pain on the side of her face but after a minute of pure deafening silence Y/N opened her eyes to see an arrow inches away from her face and a hand gripping it, holding it in place, immediately Y/N looked over to make sure clarisse was undamaged. Clarisse was perfectly fine except for the scowl plastered on her face as she looked at the person holding the arrow.

You looked up to get a good look at the person and to your surprise it’s percy jackson himself, “percy? how the hell did you do that” Y/N quickly forgot about her hatred toward percy and gave him a firm hug, glad to keep both of her eyes.

clarisse glared at this hug that lasted way to long for her liking, she watched as her enemy and her Y/N got chummy with eachother, she watched until she couldn’t take it anymore and stormed off to her cabin.

Y/N now engulfed in her conversation with percy hadn’t noticed that clarisse left.

•~•~•~•~•~•~•~•~•~•~•~•~•~•~•~•~•~•~

“god clarisse just admit it, no one gets upset that much at their ‘friend’ for talking with their enemy, you obviously have feelings for her.” clarisses sibling spoke, annoyed that clarisse had just talked her ear off for hours on end about your conversation with percy, all her sibling wanted was sleep.

“ugh i don’t fucking like Y/N!” clarisse groaned and threw herself onto her bed, wallowing in self pity, it had been months since you first met clarisse and ever since that day she had done nothing but talk on and on about you and her siblings had ENOUGH. They had to put a stop to this absolute bullshit and they knew just how to do it.

•~•~•~•~•~•~•~•~•~•~•~•~•~•~•~•~•~•~

“listen i’ve liked you for a really long time and i know i haven’t communicated it well but i just want you to know that since the day we met i’ve always had my eye on you”

…

silence filled the room.

“what.” Y/N spoke whilst still in her pajamas as her door was slightly creaked open she had a blank stare while looking at percy jackson.

“just go on a date with me is what i’m asking.” percy sighed and handed her a note.

Y/N read it before doing anything else and immediately said yes upon reading the note. “Just give me an hour or two to get ready”

Y/N welcomed percy into her shared dorm and told him to wait on her bed while she took a shower, soon the water started running and about 20 minutes into her shower there was a knock at the cabin door.

“percy do you mind getting it?” she didn’t hear a response back but did hear the door opening.

“Y/N do you want to come with me to the mess hall for breakfast?” clarisse spoke not making eye contact until she smelt the faint scent of cologne, her eyes darted to the door way as her eyes landed on percy jackson, what the hell was he doing in her Y/N’s dorm?

“oh sorry clarisse she’s in the shower right now.” percy spoke softly. The moment clarisse heard this she almost fucking bursted right there, right before she could start screaming obscenities at him, he shut the door, right in her face. If he wasn’t dead before he surely was now.

percy waited patiently for you to get ready and once you did, you looked like the most beautiful girl in the world, he was very lucky to be taking you on a date, and he had it all planned out too, he was going to take you through the flower fields where a picnic was set up, then hand you over a necklace he had bought you and give you a bouquet of flowers, but of course since he had wronged clarisse in every which way possible this wasn’t going to go as planned.

The walk to the picnic, clarisse followed a few feet behind. As they ate on a picnic blanket, three snakes had came up to them. The necklace percy had bought, stolen. The final straw was when the flowers percy had hand picked all morning were found in the bushes, cut up and tossed. Percy was in fact pissed and knew it was all due to clarisse, he also knew she was watching close by so in an attempt to get back at her he grabbed Y/N by the waste and kissed her passionately.

A loud thud was all that could be heard as percy suffered a blow to the stomach and a firm hand yanked your wrist in the opposite direction towards the cabins.

a part of you was worried for percy but the other was also worried about your own safety as due to the darkness you couldn’t see who had grabbed you.

That was until you were forcefully shoved into a cabin and placed on a bunk bed where the light was then turned on, the tension from your body eased up as you saw the curly hair you grew to love so much.

“clarisse whyd you do that?” Y/N spoke in a sweet tone to tell clarisse she wasn’t mad. Clarisse took a seat next to Y/N on her bed and turned to make eye contact with Y/N

“i know my siblings put percy up to this as a way to get back at me and make me realize i have a crush on you or something, i’m not saying i do have a crush on you but it’s not like i wanted to see you date my enemy especially when your the only person i want to myself, well not in a possessive girlfriends way but also in that way? so i guess i do have a crush on you, all i know is i’m really confused and i want nothing more than for you to kiss me inste-“ clarisse was cut off with a pair of lips smashing against hers.

“better? you were rambling so now it’s my turn, i know that they put percy up to this, it was in a note that percy have to me and i had agreed to go on that date knowing that you’d find out and ruin it, my hope was that you’d come out and confess to me but i didn’t think you’d actually punch percy, i guess it doesn’t matter because that was really hot clari” Y/N smiled.

clarisse felt her face heat up as she chose her next words carefully. “this means we can date now right?” clarisse was surprised she wasn’t stuttering as she really didn’t know how to word this, she hadn’t been all that good at expressing how she felt.

“of course we can clarisse” Y/N gave an innocent look before speaking again. “this also means i can do this”

Y/N leaned in to kiss clarisse again, catching clarisse by surprise and then pulling away only a couple inches so clarisse could speak.

“please do that again”

“i’ll do it as many times as you want pretty girl”

•~•~•~•~•~•~•~•~•~•~•~•~•~•~•~•~•~•~

The end yaysysyysysy my hands hurt

bye<3

#clarisse la rue #fem reader #clarisse x reader #percy jackson #percy jackon and the olympians

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neckromantics · 5 months

Text

Love Bites.

Astarion Ancunín-

He could just eat. you. right. up.

SFW. (Mostly)

(Go reblog this gif bc i said please and we like to support creators ily)

Okay, it's not a revolutionary idea or anything, but Astarion is SUCH a biter.

Like, yeah, duh, it kind of comes with the territory of him being a vampire and everything, BUT he's also just.... like that.

Once he begins to grow more comfortable with you and with showing affection in his own ways, it becomes pretty apparent. Secretly, you wonder to yourself if it was something he did before his turning as well, because it's such a common occurrence. You're convinced you could locate the cure for vampirism tomorrow and you'd still find yourself sporting teeth marks all the same.

The first time it happens, you're on a rant.

You’d been out all day on your own, doing some trading around the nearest town while the rest of the gang took a (very rare) day of rest. They could hear your frustrated stomping long before they could see you, but you didn’t even spare them a glance- just flung your dirty boots off to the side before you flung yourself into your vampiric lover's tent with reckless abandon.

He’s busy repairing a seam on one of his shirts-- a couple of pins held between his pursed lips as he focuses on getting the stitches just right-- when you fall down cross-legged onto one of the cushions nearest him, not giving so much as a hello before you start to go on and on about what absolute bullshit your day had been.

Imagine yourself, mad as shit, steam practically coming out of your ears as you recall the way some imbecile in Rivington shorted you a large portion of gold, which resulted in you becoming so distracted that some other imbecile swooped in and stole your backpack of priceless scrolls right off your person. The lengths of which you had to go to get it all back were absolutely ridiculous. Mind numbing, even.

(The next time something like this happens to you when you're alone, magic-user or not, you are going to use the last of your brain cells to summon the power of the weave, and you're going to use it to blow yourself up. Gale-style.)

You’re about to swear that you’re never leaving camp without him again when you finally glance his way, and you aren't expecting to catch him looking right at you.

Carmine eyes examine you with such fondness– such adoration– that you almost forget what you’re angry about when they meet your own. It knocks the wind from your lungs. Shuts you up, that’s for sure.

It’s only then that you realize you haven’t even said hello to him. Gods, you didn’t even ask if you could come in. You just inserted yourself into his space like it was your own and made a fool of yourself.

Oddly enough, he doesn't seem to mind.

At some point in your story-telling, he’d finished his little project and settled in to listen, clearly amused at just how angry you are as you gesture about with bloodied hands, childish insults flying past your lips with such earnestness that he has to bite back a laugh. You truly are so adorable when you’re angry, so much so that he doesn’t know what to do with himself other than…. well.

Your breath gets caught in your throat as he leans in close, and before you can question him he’s digging his teeth into your clothed shoulder with such force that you’re amazed he doesn’t break the skin.

Something about the way his nose scrunches up when he does it makes your heart do disgusting, lovesick cartwheels in your chest.

The next time you're doing laundry, you find the two, twin sized holes that his fangs left behind in your tunic, and it makes you smile like an idiot for the next hour.

You get used to being on the receiving end of his affectionate bites pretty quickly. It's honestly become one of your (many) favorite things about him.

He doesn't really do it in front of other people, which is understandable. But, he does click his teeth at you when you're being especially, delectably sweet to him. Just a click click of bared fangs as a warning so you know to stop being so damn nice to him all of the time.

As if.

How you reach up to swipe away some blood from his face when no one is looking, and he pulls one of the tips of your fingers into his mouth for a little appreciative nibble.

The way he smirks at you when you pull your hand away with a small huff of a laugh, your own face a little warmer beneath the pad of his thumb as he returns the favor.

When you're alone in his tent late at night, and he tells a joke that has you laughing so hard your face hurts. He'll press his teeth to the apple of your cheek, flushed and rounded by how hard you're grinning.

He could just eat. you. right. up.

The abuse your bottom lip receives when you’re sharing a particularly passionate kiss. How the point of a fang sometimes nicks the plush skin if he’s not careful enough. The happy little noise he makes when the taste of your blood hits his tongue leaves you far too breathless to even consider complaining.

Sometimes, it's just how he greets you.

You'll literally be sitting down, doing absolutely nothing but minding your own business, and he'll come over and chomp down on whatever part of you he can reach like he's kissing you hello.

Likes hearing the way your heart-rate picks up whenever he comes up from behind while you’re especially distracted. He gets you by the waist, pulls you off balance to get a better angle and bites down on your neck in the most theatric, Dracula-esque fashion.

Complete with a rabid growl that tickles your skin and has you shaking with laughter.

He's learned not to startle you too much, though. After all, given everything that's happened, you're more of a "stab first, wonder who it is later" type of person, and he'd rather not get shivved with whatever sharp object is nearest you at the time.

He soothes whatever small pain he might have caused in his dramatics with a soft kiss. A dozen or so more, wet and wanting, trailing from beneath your ear to the place where your pulse pounds away for him. That lovely pulse of yours, growing ever faster with each lingering press of his mouth.

And if you shiver and oh-so casually bring up how you'll let him feed from you tonight if he'd like? That's your own business.

#bg3 #astarion ancunin #baldurs gate 3 #astarion #astarion x reader #astarion x tav #astarion headcanons #bg3 tav #baldurs gate headcanon

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erospandemos · 7 months

Text

Umbrella Thief

Hanni x Reader

Length: 4.2k

With the help of beta-reader @leafostuff

A series of unfortunate events leads you to share the same hotel room as your umbrella thief.

Why did you even agree to come to the school trip? You asked yourself. How did you get the splendid idea to join this little stupid event? The day had been nothing but rain, delayed transportation, closed museums, tasteless food, and now that it was… You put your hand in your pocket, stuck to your thigh, soaking wet from all the rain, and reached for the phone. Fortunately, it was still working. 12 pm.

The teachers failed to contact the bus and everyone had to walk back to the hotel, which was an hour away from the restaurant, and without an umbrella. Someone stole your umbrella. You left it near your bag as you went to the bathroom and when you came back, poof, it disappeared—just as it started to rain. Everyone was too worried about themselves and going back to the hotel, so you were forgotten and had to walk all the way under the pouring rain.

You sighed, for the nth time, and waited for the teachers to announce the pairings for the hotel rooms. As they started calling for everyone and seeing couple by couple leaving the reception, running in excitement to their little cove, you got impatient. You silently accepted that you’d be the last one. The problem was when they didn’t call you at all.

“Excuse me, Miss Kim. What about my room?” you asked politely.

“Yeah, about that…” she started. She patted her head with an apologetic expression. “Someone made a mistaking while booking the room and you’ll have to share it with someone from the other class that joined us.”

“What do you mean someone made a mistake?”

“We actually were one room short. I just asked for the last room they got left,” the teacher admitted. She took out the card to access your room and gave it to you. “I don’t know who the other person was but, here you go.”

You found your place by looking at the number on the sign beside the stairs. In front of your door was waiting an oddly familiar girl. Her height was average, her hair was black, and decorated her round face with straight bangs. Her clothes were baggy and looked to be trendy, new jeans and a big hoodie, and they were almost completely dry.

After looking at her enough, you realized you actually knew her name. Hanni Pham. She was your crush, what were the chances she’d be here to share the room with you? You couldn’t absolutely give her any hints or make her realize you might’ve liked her.

“Hi, Hanni.”

“Oh, hello, how do you know my name?” she replied with a raised eyebrow. Shoot. Think of an excuse, quick, say something.

“I mean, you must be Hanni, right? My teacher told me I’d be sharing my room with you, did she tell you?”

“Ah, that thing, yes. Well, good to meet you…”

You couldn’t help but nervously glance at her—she was way prettier in person—and your cheeks got warmer, you felt embarrassed since you were dripping water all over the floor and she was in the same room as you. It was the most unluckiest encounter you could have hoped for. Your chances were thrown out the window at this point. The first time you got to have a proper conversation with her was when you looked your worst.

It’s just a night, you repeat in your head. Just a night. Eight hours or something.

She swiped the card and let you both go inside.

Hanni smiled and joked with her vibrant joyful voice, “Damn, did Zeus have a grudge against you? You’re drenched! Here, take this towel,” she said.

“Actually,” you started, recalling everything that happened before, “Can you believe it? Someone actually stole my umbrella!”

Hanni noticed how frustrated you were and answered as sympathetically as she could, “No way! Who would do such a thing? They must be the raincoat industry's secret undercover agent.”

“Oh, definitely!” you laughed. “They probably have a whole stash of stolen umbrellas hidden away somewhere.”

The girl laughed too, interrupted by a soundless hiccup, and rubbed the back of her neck. “Yeah, it’s such a shame that people can’t be trusted these days.”

“It’s incredible! I left it beside my bag… I just left for two minutes and… Wait,” you stopped for a moment and looked at the umbrella peaking from her half-opened backpack. Almost ironically, it fell to the floor and you recognize it. There was no doubt. It was yours.

“That looks an awful lot like my umbrella.”

“What do you mean?” she stutters, as her eyes start to flicker. “Yeah, uhm, it’s a coincidence. I mean, who hasn’t had the same umbrella, right?” Hanni raised her shoulders and hands in a innocent shrug but failed to look at you in the eyes.

You raised an eyebrow. “Oh, really? Coincidence? So you’re telling me that my umbrella magically walked out of my hands and into yours?”

Finally, she sighed with guilt. “Okay, fine,” she admitted. “You caught me. But in my defense, it was raining, and I was unprepared!”

“Unprepared? So, stealing my umbrella was your brilliant solution?”

“I panicked!” Hanni sheepishly replied. “It was a spur-of-the-moment decision.” She stopped and raised her eyes from the floor to look at you. “I’m sorry.”

“Whatever,” you said. “Buy me lunch tomorrow and I’ll forgive you.” You pick up the umbrella and take your card out. You put it on the sensor but it wasn’t working. No wonder, it was dripping wet and you couldn’t dry it on your clothes which weren’t any less drenched. Hanni took it from your hands, brushing your fingers for an instant. You held your breath. Why were you getting nervous from her? She was a criminal!

“Okay, let’s go inside,” Hanni said, forcing a smile. “Wow, it’s quite a nice room. Quite spacious,” she commented when she stepped inside the room. Her eyes were open wide, her mouth slightly open, childishly surprised and excited.

“Oh, even a king-size bed. I got dips on that,” she said. “Where’s the second one though?” It was then that the realization dawned on you. A boy, a girl, one room, one bed. That’s how you become a father. Wait, no, that’s wrong. Your brain wasn’t working correctly, not at all.

“I’ll sleep on the floor, don’t worry.”

“Huh? What are you talking about? You can’t sleep on the ground,” Hanni gave you a weird look. “It’s been raining all day, there isn’t even a mattress… you would catch a cold.”

“It’s fine, it’s fine.”

“This is not happening,” she said. “You are already drenched because of me… you’ll definitely die if you sleep on the floor.” You were already taking the blankets out of the closet and making a little makeshift bed in the corner in the room when Hanni stopped you and forcefully pulled them out of your hands. “What do you think you’re doing?” the girl jeered. “I’m not that much of a monster to let you sleep on the ground, you idiot.”

“You’re a girl, Hanni. I’m a boy.”

“It’s okay, we can talk to the teachers tomorrow and ask to get another room or a second bed. It’s just one night. I wonder where you are bothered. Are you nervous because I’m too pretty?”

You laugh loudly. “I just don’t want to sleep next to a thief.”

“Hey! I already apologized!” Hanni hissed and pouted. You stared at her cheeks, puffing out to two soft and round mochis. Damn it. Your weakness. You couldn’t get angry at her while she was acting this cute.

“Okay, okay. It doesn’t matter now,” you said. “So, do you have some sleep attire?” It was already too late, both of you were tired. You had to get some sleep before the next day of walking.

“Oh, look at you caring so much for a thief…” she grinned.

“What—” you cleared your throat. “What are you saying?”

“You almost sound boyfriend-material,” Hanni chuckled with amusement. “Sorry, are you embarrassed?”

Your pulse jittered somewhere around the 140 mark. Hanni must have noticed it and was having a blast teasing you. “I’m not embarrassed, these are just basic manners. This is what every gentleman would do.”

“Exhibit A.”

“Ugh,” you sigh. “Just get over it.” You took your stuff out and went to take a shower. You were a bit uncomfortable showing yourself in pajamas but it wasn’t like you could do anything else. The real problem was Hanni was done. She came out of the bathroom with a thin pajama made of short shorts and a small shirt.

She just stood there being all pretty and shy, playing with the hem of her shirt, her face a little down, looking at you through her eyebrows.

“Why are you looking at me like that? Am I supposed to say something?” you stuttered, matching her energy. Hanni doesn’t answer, instead, her lips quiver. You quickly ruffle your hair out of frustration. “What is this? This really feels like something a couple would do… Well—you look great,” you admitted. The second, the words came out of your mouth, you realize you made an enormous mistake. You quickly raise your head and look at Hanni, she’s already giving you the vilest of smugs, her embarrassment having disappeared completely.

“Heh,” she breathes. You close your eyes to prepare for what she’s going to say next.

“Have you been picturing me in sleepwear?” she giggles.

“No! I haven’t been picturing you in sleepwear. Get over yourself.

Hanni lowered her eyes to the floor, clutching her shirt and tightening her shirt with her hands.

You couldn’t help but look at her tremble a little. “It's pretty cold couldn't you bring something longer? I mean, look at your body. It's full of goosebumps.”

“No, I thought this would have been fine but turns out that—hey! You’re staring at my body!”

“What's up? I didn't look at your body inappropriately. I just noticed you had goosebumps.”

Hanni scuffs but you ignore her. Instead, you took a blanket and wrap her with it. She was startled at first, widening her eyes and glancing at you with a questioning glare, but then she just relaxed and covered herself better with it.

“Let's finally get this over with. At least the bed is comfy.”

“Okay, but,” Hanni started, raising a finger in the air and dramatically lowering it down to draw a line from the top of the bed all the way down, slicing it like a sandwich. “Don’t dare to cross the side of the bed though.”

“I won’t, I won’t… Good night.”

“Good night.”

And that was it. You were finally going to sleep. You closed your eyes and tried to forget that you were sleeping next to your crush and you succeeded for a second, until she started moving around. At first she just touched you with her foot. Then she literally pushed you off the bed. Sometimes, she’d wake up, holding her eyes half open half closed and scold you like, “I told you not to cross the line. Stop touching me.” You were too sleepy and didn’t have the heart to fight back so you just kept sleeping.

The worse was when she threw her arm over and slapped you. You got up and stared at her, debating whether to slap her back or make her sleep on the floor. You looked back at the clock. 1:42 am. You sighed and just put the blanket back on her.

The sixth time you woke up, it wasn’t for some unknown violent act. Instead, you felt a really warm softness on your back. You slowly turned around and saw Hanni hugging your back. Her arm was over and under yours, clinching your abdomen and squishing her face on you.

Very slowly, you took her arm and put it behind you, so she could roll over. You let out a satisfied sigh when you succeed, only for her to go back at hugging you, this time tighter, on top of that she threw her leg over and koala hugged you.

Hanni had a wide grin.

You decided to enjoy yourself. Afterall, feeling her embrace and her low breath on your back was quite relaxing and most of all, it was really comfortable. In fact, you fell asleep fairly quick, imagining you were her boyfriend.

After an hour, it was Hanni’s turn to wake up.

Someone was blasting music from the room next door, she wasn’t sure if it was from above or from the right but it surely wasn’t quiet. Hanni yawned, stroking her cheek on her very big hugging pillow, annoyed by the sudden disturbance that disrupted her very comfortable slumber.

But then her pillow started moving and breathing; and she realized it wasn’t a pillow at all.

“Oh no, oh no,” she whispered, panicked and flustered. You were still sleeping. Good. She peered through the dark to see the clock on the other side, it was three in the morning. “Stay asleep.”

Hanni started debating with herself on whether it might have been you or her who started cuddling. Well, she was definitely the one strapped to you but you were holding her arm too. Maybe, just maybe, it could have been a reflex. No, it was definitely on her.

“Wow, you smell good,” she let her thoughts wander. “Nope, stop it.” But that really wasn’t the moment. She had to slip out of there before you woke up and then it would have gotten really awkward. Hanni raised her arm and leg, trying to roll on the side but you started tossing and turning. I took a couple of turns and now you were back in the starting position but this time, you were hugging her a bit more.

And she didn’t mind.

Her bargaining stopped when she realized that after all she didn’t really want to detach herself from you because she was cold, you were warm, and soft, and nice… and cute. Again, Hanni couldn’t stop but let her mind race and enjoy the moment too much. “Oh my god, what's wrong with me?” she cursed herself. “Okay, well, you should stop pulling me closer, because that feels really nice. I can hear your heartbeat.”

Hanni liked you too and she knew it since when her friends invaded your classroom, dragging her together with them. She fell for you without knowing, you slowly crept inside her heart when you treated her so nicely and affectionately, not looking down on her nor admiring her too much. Sometimes you’d sit beside her, when her friends were talking with other friends—leaving her alone—and make her laugh during those very somber days. Hanni fell for you, but she never considered that you could be anything more but now it was too hard to ignore—glued to you—she was very aware of her blossoming feelings.

You woke up. And in the spur of the moment Hanni decided to accuse you of everything.

“What are you doing?” you asked.

“Oh my god, did you cuddle me in your sleep?”

“I didn’t mean to… Wait, you’re the one hugging me.”

“Hey, you know, it's not that big of a deal that you, like, held me in your sleep.”

“It’s you.”

“No, it isn’t. Hey, this ain't on me. This is 100 % on you, so yeah. And you've got your arm on me. I couldn't have done that. That's like pretty damning evidence right there.”

“You’re so red, Hanni.”

“Oh? Then why is your heart beating so fast?”

“You’re literally attached to me like a koala…”

“Hey, if you like want to confess something, that's totally cool.”

“It sounds like you do.”

“No, I don’t. I don't have anything. I'm not hiding anything. I was just giving you a safe space to get it off your chest.”

“Get off what my chest?”

“Well, you're hiding that you're like super into me or something stupid like that.” Hanni concluded. “Anyways, just go back to sleep, will you?”

As Hanni drifted again into a deep sleep, she started mumbling incoherently. You weren’t asleep yet and just laid there, debating whether you should tell her to shut up, maybe to tease her, or to continue listening to her. Suddenly, a brilliant crossed your mind: recording her. That was the proper revenge for the hell she made you go through that morning. You couldn't resist the opportunity, you slowly got up and took the phone without making a single noise and pressed the record button.

To your surprise, Hanni muttered your name and then, "You're the best. I love you so much."

Your eyes widened in disbelief.

Hanni, her voice filled with affection. You have never heard her talk this nicely and you were pretty sure it was directed to you. "I wish I could marry you. You're just so cute." Her words were confused but you could make out what she was saying pretty clearly.

Your eyes turned into a look of panic when Hanni whispered, "I wish I could tell you how I feel."

You realized that you might have uncovered something you weren’t supposed to. You decided to end the recording, but just as you reached for your phone, Hanni mumbled again, "I wish I could kiss you."

Now you were in full panic mode. He had no idea Hanni felt this way about you. You quickly ended the recording and put your phone away, feeling a mix of excitement and trepidation.

Your heart was beating so fast, that alone could’ve woken her up.

Moments later, Hanni stirred and woke up, her eyes fluttering open. She yawned and stretched, completely unaware of what you just did. Then she noticed your face, completely shocked and scared, you were sweating bullets and you were sure she could see a couple of droplets in the moonlight.

"What's going on? What’s with that face?"

You tried to play it cool. "Oh, it's nothing, Hanni. Just a weird dream, that's all."

Hanni wasn’t really buying it but she was to sleepy to really care and turned around. That’s when she saw your phone still on, the big pause button and the soundwave of the recording up. Hanni was sleepy but she wasn’t dumb—the smartest kid in the class earned that name for a reason—she snatched the phone up and put it to her ear. You cursed yourself for making such a mistake: why would you ever leave your phone like that?! Hanni woke up so suddenly and you had no choice but to drop everything you were doing and try to look like you were sleeping but that was a dead giveaway.

Her eyes widened in shock as she listened to herself confess her feelings for you. Mortified, she turned to you, her face bright red. "You recorded me talking in my sleep?!"

You chuckled nervously. "I didn't mean to. It was just a joke, I swear."

Your hand suddenly snatched the phone from hers. It was instinctive. You didn’t why you did it, it was a deep feeling inside you. But Sarah was having none of it. She leaped up from her blanket. "Give me that phone, you bastard! You have to delete it right now!"

You were surprised by her choice of words but didn’t have time to think about it, you tried to evade her, but Hanni was quick. She chased you around the room and your finger was trying to save the audio to your drive. But running and swiping wasn’t exactly easy, and you exited the app instead of saving the evidence.

And that was your second mistake: leaving your instagram open.

Hanni successfully tackled you, making you fall down and your phone flew out of hand. Hanni catched it and ran to the corner of the room, near the door.

She looked at the screen trying to find where to delete the audio but then she saw a picture of herself. It was her instagram account. Her most recent post had a like. Sure, he must’ve liked the photo randomly, she thought to herself but when she scrolled down and saw more hearts, some questions quickly started forming in her mind.

“Hey… you certainly liked a lot of my photos.”

“Hanni—w-what are you doing? What are you looking at?”

“Your instagram,” Hanni quickly said, busy scrolling on your phone. “Oh my god… you liked all of my posts. You even saved them.”

“Hanni please give me my phone back,” you begged her, trying to take your phone from her but she was faster than you.

“Let’s talk,” she said in a serious tone.

“Fine,” you agreed.

“You have a little too many pictures of me. What’s that about?”

“You said you wanted to marry me in your sleep.”

“Wha—you were saying you wanted to confess to me to your friend!”

“You watched my DMs?! What do you think you’re doing, Hanni Pham?! You’re violating my privacy!”

“Violating my privacy my ass! You literally recorded me in my sleep, just shut up.”

“Please, Hanni, put it down. I’m going to delete the audio and we’ll forget whatever happened today.”

“You really say the most random stuff to your friend. ‘Hanni is so cute, she is so pretty I can’t stop staring at her…’ Let me see some more.”

“Hanni please I’ll do whatever you want, just stop.”

“Really?”

“Yes.”

“Then say you like me,” Hanni said. She was trying her hardest to look threatening, to emanate a bit of authority but her bright red face showed that you she just as fluttered as you were. “I have seen everything, you might just admit it at this point.”

“Hanni, when you were sleeping you literally said—”

“If you don’t say it, I’m going to post the screenshots of your chat on the class chat.”

“NO! Okay, I’ll say it,” you reluctantly agreed. You took a deep breath and finally spoke, “I… I like you, Hanni.”

Hanni’s face turned into the biggest smile you have ever seen. “Say it again, I didn’t hear it.”

You sighed. “I really like you Hanni.”

“Is it the truth?”

“It… is. Yes.”

“Why?”

“Hanni stop being evil! You have already read everything in that fucking chat. There’s literally everything there—I said it, will you put my phone down now?”

“Okay, it’s fine,” she said and put the phone on the desk. You were to let out a sigh of relief but it remained trapped in your throat when Hanni said, “I like you too.”

“You what?”

“I figured, you already heard me saying it, so I’m gonna say it for real now. I like you too, a lot.”

You two started to laugh awkwardly to fill the silence between her words. When you stopped, the silence was even louder than before. You were looking at the floor and Hanni was looking at the ceiling.

“What do we do now?” she spoke.

“I don’t know.”

“Shall we sleep.”

“I don’t think we have any other option.”

You two climbed on the bed, hopefully for the last time that night. You laid there still, miles apart from eachother, for several minutes, without anyone saying anything. Hanni decided to speak first, “How long have you liked me for?”

“Oh, we’re starting with those questions?”

“I think I deserve to know.”

“Well… it was since I’ve seen you for the first time in your class.”

“Oh, that long ago?”

“What about you?”

“Since last month.”

“That’s cool.”

Hanni turned to you, her black eyes searching yours, and with a nervous smile, she asked, “Can I ask you something?”

You turned your head and met her gaze, “Of course. What’s on your mind?”

Hanni hesitated for a moment, then took a deep breath. “Why do you like me?”

Your brows furrowed in confusion and you let out a happy sigh. “What do you mean, why do I like you. Hanni, there are so many reasons. Your smile, your laugh, the way you make everyone around you happy, your kindness, your intelligence… I can’t pinpoint a specific reason. Whenever I see your face, I feel little better, and I look forward to seeing you again the next day. That’s it really. Why do I love you? Because you make me live with more passion.”

Hanni couldn’t resist, your words were getting to her so she pounced on you, pulling you in a tight hug. You were started but just accepted it, because you loved it. You turned around, and hugged her back, leaving her head on your chest, just to get back at her.

“This is exactly why I like you so much,” she managed to say groggily.

A kiss was too soon, for each other, so when Hanni got close enough to your face, you nuzzled your noses and pinched her cheeks. They were extremely soft, they were chubby although her face didn’t look like it. The velvety texture of her skin was surprising, it was as if touching a delicate, plush petal. Her cheeks dimpled with the sweetest, childlike charm, and her silly laughter filled you with joy, making it impossible for you to resist her tenderness.

Hanni was blushing madly but she loved it.

“I guess we kind of are really like a couple now huh?” she said. “A thunderstorm outside, cuddling in a king-sized bed. I... I guess I do kind of like staying with you like this. Just a little bit. I guess this wasn't too bad.”

“We’re gonna talk about this tomorrow, let’s sleep for now,” you suggest.

“Yeah, good night.”

THE END

Written, 11 July 2023 - 02 October 2023

#hanni #newjeans #newjeans hanni #newjeans fluff #hanni fluff #kpop fluff #kpop #fluff

661 notes · View notes

cordeliawhohung · 8 months

Text

Blood Soaked Cotton

Simon Ghost Riley x fem!Reader - part 1 of "soft spot"

Simon Riley finds himself oddly attached to the kind woman who works at the bank he frequents. He tells himself it’s just a friendly connection and nothing more. But the day he walks in and sees the marks, he realizes just how much of a soft spot he’s developed for her.

Warnings: Language, mentions of Ghost's past (trauma, brief mention/descriptions of SA, abuse), implied domestic violence (not graphically described), unwanted grabbing (not groping), alcohol, descriptions of minor wounds and bruises, soft/grumpy Ghost, reader is a bank teller, hurt/comfort, caring for wounds,

wc: 6k

It wasn’t supposed to happen like this. Really, it wasn’t supposed to happen at all. But things never exactly work out how we think they will, and Simon Riley wasn’t a stranger to surprises.

You had seen his face plenty of times before, though not in the way someone would expect. The low resolution picture on his ID was all you had seen of him, and he was very content in keeping it that way. Because of this, he made sure he always got into your line at the bank, as he didn’t really fancy showing his ID to every other teller there.

Besides not wanting to pass a literal picture of his face around, he might have had something of a soft spot for you. Or, at least as much of a soft spot as a man like him could muster for someone. The very first day he showed up at the bank, he knew almost every single teller there thought he was trying to rob the place. It wasn’t like he could blame them. His towering height and his partialness towards facemasks didn’t exactly make him the most inviting. But even with the normalization of masks after the pandemic, more often than not he was looked at with fear.

So when the first teller he went up to demanded that he take his mask off for ‘identification purposes,’ he was a little more than peeved. Every other bank he had gone to pretty much tossed his cash towards him without so much as a second glance. That’s what he got for moving into the big city, he supposed.

But then you stepped in. Told your co-worker that it was fine, that you would help him with his withdrawal, without the need of showing his face. She gave a little huff, and he knew you were probably breaking a million rules by doing that for him, but either way, he was thankful for it.

So there he was, once again, in your line at the bank. Simon wasn’t one to particularly enjoy using the more advanced forms of currency exchange. Debit cards were fine, but not his favorite, and he wouldn’t be caught dead using PayPal or any type of phone transfers. Cash was comfortable, familiar, and more reliable in his eyes. And tellers were more trustworthy than ATMs, despite the fact that they were still people.

“Hey there,” you greeted him with a kind smile.

With just about everyone else, if you knew it, you greeted them by their name. Especially if they were the old regulars you saw several times a week. But not with Simon. It wasn’t for the lack of knowing it, surely, as his name was obviously tied to the account, and he showed up just as often as the old geezers who were just as untrusting as he was. You didn’t seem scared to use his name, or really scared of him at all. Either way, it was just another small detail he appreciated.

“Hey,” he responded, feeling awkward speaking but knowing you deserved more than just an empty stare.

He tossed his items onto the counter in front of you, where they clattered against the glass covered wood with tiny tinks. You took the items in your hands, hardly glancing over his ID before sliding it back to him, face down on the counter.

“The usual?” you questioned, typing away at your system. You sounded more like a waitress taking his order than a teller.

“Yeah.”

It was the same amount of cash out every week. Enough to spend throughout the week, which wasn’t much, and enough to save up throughout the month for things such as rent. Not that you knew that, of course. You never asked him any questions that weren’t absolutely necessary. You were straight and to the point, doing your work with a kind smile that he didn’t think he deserved.

He always felt like such a stain in places like that; around people like you. The people with bright smiles, wearing neat and clean clothes with a perfect nine to five. Those four walls glistened with power and wealth, something that he never really wanted to come close to. Even though being nice to him was quite literally your job, he knew deep down he didn’t belong there.

If it wasn’t for you, he probably would have switched banks long ago.

“There you go!” you said, your voice chipper as you held the envelope for him.

Large hands threatened to engulf yours as he reached for the money, yet his hands never did so much as graze your skin. He didn’t bother counting the cash before shoving it into the pocket of his jacket. It had been months since he had been with that bank, and you hadn’t ever miscounted before; he trusted you with that much, at least.

“Thanks.” It was short, gruff, and to the point. There wasn’t much time he was willing to waste on pleasantries. Not even to the bank teller who knew his face.

“Have a good one!”

Have a good one. It was always the same farewell you gave him. Of course the factitious answer that came to mind was ‘have a good one what?’ but he knew better than to be a smart ass. But really, the question truly was a valid one in his mind. Have a good what? Day? Afternoon? Life?

He was too far gone for that.

After that day, he didn’t see you for a few weeks. He was off doing what he did best; being a soldier. At times, it felt like it was all he knew how to do. Run. Shoot. Kill. Stab. Wash the blood from his uniform and repeat it all the next day if he even lived long enough to see it.

But he always did, even when he knew he shouldn’t have. Which meant he always returned back home to that small studio apartment. Some nights it felt all too cramped. Those grimey walls forever oozing nicotine from every single pore because of some asshole who couldn’t be arsed to open a damn window when they smoked. The wood floor that was scratched to all hell. That ugly nightstand he bought off of some old man at a yard sale for five quid. Everything, every detail, every crack in that damn apartment was just one more thing threatening to suffocate him, but he didn’t have the time or energy to let that get the better of him.

He had to go to the bank tomorrow.

Goddamn.

When he next returned to the bank, something was off. There was no sign of your usual chipper voice that you greeted your patrons with, and your voice had been replaced with something more hoarse. At first he thought you were maybe just sick, but once he was the next one in line, he realized he couldn’t have been more wrong.

Your clothes always looked nice. A simple blouse, maybe a nice blazer to go over it if the weather wasn’t too warm. Bank tellers always had a way of looking professional and put together, so it was rather jarring when he saw the state of your face. Not that you were particularly mangled or anything, but the split lip was glaringly obvious.

It tore the delicate skin of your bottom lip vertically, nearing the corner of your mouth. Dark, crunchy scabs clogged the wound up, and he could tell by the way your tongue kept prodding at it that it smarted something fierce. But it didn’t stop there. A slight bruise on the back part of your cheekbone, an even deeper bruise peeking out from underneath your blouse on your collarbone, a broken nail that chipped off uncomfortably close to your nail bed.

“Simon?”

Your voice pulled him out of his head as his eyes stopped wandering over your body and landed back on your face. He tried his best to keep his gaze from wandering to your busted lip, but it was difficult when your tongue kept swiping over it. It was so distracting he almost didn’t register that you used his first name.

“The usual?” you asked.

Your smile was lopsided, your swollen lip making it impossible to do it properly. And god, hearing that crackling tone in your voice was almost more off putting than the wounds. As if even just hearing the cheerfulness in your voice would make your state seem less serious.

“What happened?” he questioned, his hands digging into his pockets to pull out the needed documents.

A sour chuckle left you as you threw your gaze down at the counter. “Suppose that’s the question of the day, isn’t it?”

When you looked back up at him, his gaze was stony and unrelenting, as if he wasn’t going to let you sidestep it. You sighed as you looked at his hands. He had everything ready to go, yet he held it close to his chest, as if he wasn’t going to relinquish it until you answered him.

“Got a little drunk last weekend at the pub. Might have biffed it on the curb walking home,” you explained with a half-assed chuckle.

It was more than that. Simon knew those wounds all too well, and though he usually saw it on himself and other soldiers, there were rare cases he saw them on others. On civilians. And he knew better than anyone else that wounds like that were caused by more than just pavement.

But he wasn’t about to accost you at work over it, and so he set his items on the counter in front of you, gently sliding them closer to you. Those dark eyes of his didn’t leave you once. You had become a specimen. This interesting creature he suddenly found himself fascinated with.

He hummed in response to you as your fingers gingerly grabbed his items and you did your usual routine of retrieving his money. The bright pink Hello Kitty band-aid around your finger made you type slower than you normally did, and he couldn’t help but glance back at your lip as your teeth poked out to bite at it. It was never going to heal properly if you kept doing that, but he kept quiet.

In no time his cash was in front of him, in that simple envelope that you held out in your hands. Despite the obvious pain you were in, you still smiled at him, lopsided and all. For a moment he stared at you, eyes glancing over your wounds, the abrasions you tried to hide. But only for a moment before he took the envelope and shoved it into his pocket like normal.

Simon started to turn, ready to go about his normal boring civilian-like life. But before he could fully face away from you, a pit formed in his stomach. Something else was off. Maybe not off, but something was missing. Every part of him was screaming out, screaming for him to find it and put it back, and he found his eyes wandering over to you again.

You hadn’t said goodbye.

That’s when he noticed the blood dribbling down your chin. Whatever crusting scab that had formed on your split lip had cracked, sending a steady flow of blood from your mouth. Your fingers came up to touch the sudden wetness on your face, and he noticed how your eyebrows drew together and your jaw set tight as you blankly stared at the counter, blood trickling down your hand.

He should have turned. Should have walked away and left you to your own devices. You were a grown woman. You could take care of yourself. Just as soon as that thought had formed in his head, his hands were already reaching into his back pocket where he pulled out a handkerchief. The cloth sat between his fore and middle fingers, where his hand stiffly extended it out for you to take.

“Here.”

It used to be white, but had been stained by various things over the years he had it, and it even sported some fraying on the edges. It was clean, at least. Because of this, he was extremely surprised to hear your response to him.

“I’ll ruin it.”

Whatever lively tone you normally held had vanished. Distant eyes, a swollen lip, and a voice that seemed utterly broken. In the time it had taken for him to travel halfway across the world and commit acts that kept him up at night, you had changed. Changed in a way that left a sour taste on his tongue.

“Just take it,” he pressed, the cloth still hanging limply between his fingers.

You begrudgingly took it from him and promptly placed it against your face. Oxygenated blood stained the off-white cloth with a bright red. Every single fiber of it soaked up the liquid as if it was the soil drinking up water.

“Thank you,” you said, the words almost failing to leave your lips.

He paused for a moment. It should have been him saying those words. You gave him his money. All he did was give you a shitty handkerchief.

“Have a good one,” he said before fully turning around and making his way towards the exit.

He could practically hear the smile in your voice as you responded. “I’m trying.”

Once he got home, he tried to forget about it. There was no time or energy in his busy life for him to be worrying about you and your… situation. If he tried to care for every kicked puppy he found he wouldn’t even have the space to breathe.

But that night when Simon was sharpening his knives, trying to keep his hands and mind busy, he cut his finger. Nothing bad, hardly anything to wince at, but still bleeding enough for it to be a hassle. He reached his hand into his back pocket, only to find nothing.

“Fucking hell.”

This is why he hated soft spots. All they did was muddle things up. But what he hated more than that was how he kept trying to rationalize it. No, you weren’t a soft spot, it was just convenient. You were familiar. You were predictable.

Or at least he thought you were. It wasn’t until he came in the following week that he realized you were a bit different than the persona you wore at work. The very moment he walked through those doors, you were basically beaming. No longer lopsided, your smile was nothing short of a grin as he saw your hands instantly swim around in the pockets of your blazer. He approached you cautiously, a little putoff by how excited you were to see him.

“I got you something,” you said, grinning.

He stared at you for a moment as you pulled your hand out of your pocket. Though still extremely visible, your lip had healed up to the point where it probably wouldn’t crack anymore. The dark bruises on your collar bones had also begun to yellow, the blood that pooled there decomposing within you.

And then you showed him your… gift. A dark handkerchief that had tiny cartoon dogs patterned onto it. You held it out to him like a child showing their parents some shitty art project that they did in school.

“Figured you’d need another one after I ruined the one you gave me,” you said, wiggling it in your hands for him to take. “You also strike me as a dog person, so this seemed fitting.”

In a way it was almost cute. The idea of it certainly striked you so, anyway. Thinking about this large, somewhat intimidating man keeping something as dainty as a dog patterned handkerchief was certainly entertaining. Much to your surprise, and his own, he actually reached out and took it from you, though he did scoff at the sight of it before shoving it into his back pocket.

Getting straight to business, he handed you all the necessary items to make the withdrawal from his account, which you happily helped him with. The band aid that had been on your finger the previous week was long gone, revealing your still bloody nail bed. Dark blood pooled just under the nail, almost as if you had painted it with nail polish before giving up after one finger. Still, you were able to type faster than you had the previous week at least.

“Run into any more poles over the weekend?” Simon asked. His dark eyes glanced down at your finger before flickering to your collarbone and then your eyes.

Pausing, you looked up at him with eyebrows drawn together. “Huh? Oh, yeah uhm… not this weekend,” you answered with an awkward chuckle.

Simon hummed, crossing his arms over his chest, making him appear even more broad than he already was. For another moment or two he carefully watched you as you counted the cash. As you put it into the envelope, the sleeve of your blazer pulled up slightly, revealing an old bruise on your wrist he hadn’t seen last time.

“Good,” he responded as you slid the envelope his way.

The problem with lying wasn’t that it was seen as a shitty thing to do; it was that it was difficult to keep up the narrative. By the sound of it, you were out of practice, and Simon caught onto it almost instantly. Last week it was a curb you fell on. That week, you didn’t correct him when he switched it up. This only further proved his point; that only another pair of hands could do something like that to someone.

But he already knew that. And so did you.

“See you next week!” you smiled at him.

That was… different. Much different from your usual farewell to him, and not just in the change of words, but the change of tone as well. You still held that same cheerful tone, but there was another layer to it. Not quite a demand, but not exactly a request either. Perhaps it was…

A plea?

But you were right. He did see you the week after that, and the one after that. Each time he saw you, the bruises faded a little more, and your busted lip slowly mended. You talked more than just your regular customer service autopilot, and it was endearing. Of course you did most of the talking, and Simon mostly listened, but every now and then you would pull the ghost of a chuckle from his mouth, or maybe he’d force you to indulge in one of his rather dry jokes.

Even some of the other tellers, despite their still cautious glances at him, seemed to warm up to him a little bit. Perhaps he had you to thank for that, not that he was exactly trying to win their favor in the first place. Maybe a little comradery with strangers wasn’t such a bad thing.

Until it was.

“Would you want to go to the bar with me after work tonight?”

October brought in a sharp chill to the air that had you wearing a nice knitted sweater to help stave off the draft in the building. Its dark background with popping jack-o-lantern theme matched perfectly with your area of the bank. Despite it only being halfway through the month you had already prepared for Halloween with a bowl of candy sitting on the counter and themed jelly stickers on the window behind you.

He answered you with a hum, almost sounding confused. Pubs weren’t exactly Simon’s scene. He hated the scent of shitty IPA’s and the grumbling drone of music that hardly anyone listened to anyway.

“The pub on twenty-first just started selling their seasonal Halloween drinks. They make this super tasty mix with the theme of like, vampires or whatever, that I’ve been dying to try again,” you said, bouncing on your heels. “But none of the girls here want to come with me, and I really hate going anywhere like that alone, so I thought I’d ask you.”

He wanted to say no. He should have said no. Yet his gruff response left his lips before he had the chance to smother them, and later that night he found himself outside of the pub you described.

It was a bit nicer than most other bars he had been to, but the very moment he stepped foot inside he knew it was just like the rest. Sour, hoppy scented beer assaulted his nose similar to how it did when it clung to his father’s clothes as a child. Mugs clinked against the wooden bar at the back of the building, and someone was busy racking up a pool table somewhere to his left.

You stuck out like a sore thumb in your jack-o-lantern themed sweater, arms leaning against the counter as you hunched over your drink. The Friday night crowd parted for him as he made his way to the bar, grabbing the high stool and dragging it out a bit in order to seat himself next to you.

Meeting in a place like that, Simon had expected things to be awkward, or maybe even a little tense, but it was almost as if nothing could bring you down. Maybe it was just the alcohol (some dark red, fruity scented drink that made his stomach turn) or maybe this was just how you were like when you weren’t at work, but you had turned into an absolute chatterbox. Jumping from topic to topic, his mind was beginning to spin, but it came to a screeching halt once the focus landed on him.

“So, military, huh?” you asked. Your fingers lazily stirred your straw around in your drink. It was your second one, and he had a sneaking suspicion that the bartender might have made it a tad too strong for you to handle.

Simon nodded, his own hands wrapped around a plastic cup. You had insisted that he at least drink a bit of water, which he hadn’t done at all. The ice had long since melted in the cup, and the condensation had made a puddle on the counter.

“What’s that like?” you questioned further, your body pushing further into the counter as you tried to keep his attention.

He gave you a dull shrug. “It’s work.”

A slight pout appeared on your lips as you let go of your straw. “Oh, come on. It’s gotta be more interesting than that!” Before you could complain any further, you quickly snapped your fingers, a slight grin appearing on your face. “Wait, I get it! You can’t tell me because you work on high priority missions. Like secret agent shit, right?”

It took everything in him to hold back a slight chuckle at your childish dreaming. “Something like that.”

Leaning forward, your lips wrapped around your straw as you drew in a deep sip of your drink. The sugary liquid coated your tongue in an almost sickening way. You knew if you drank much more, it would make you sick, not exactly from the alcohol but just from how sweet it was. Still, you forced it down your throat before leaning your head against your hand.

“Must be neat,” you said in awe. “Despite all the military stuff, anyway. I bet you get to travel the world and see so many neat things. I’d kill for an opportunity like that… no pun intended.”

Your bluntness caught him off guard, so much so it brought a grumbling chuckle tearing out of his throat. The very sound of it caused you to grin; grin even wider than you ever had before. His eyes flickered to your lips, reveling in the way they curled upwards, almost as if proud of yourself. As if you had been trying to get him to laugh for ages (which you might have been). Yet he couldn’t help but focus slightly on the corner of your lip and that bit of raised scar tissue that was so faint you couldn’t really see it unless you knew what you were looking for.

“You should probably make that drink your last one for the night,” he said, his hands crinkling his plastic cup. “Don’t think I can stand your shitty puns much longer.”

You laughed a little as you looked down at your drink. It was nearly empty, and slightly watered down at that point due to the melted ice. Everything felt warm, somewhat because of the alcohol, and somewhat because of your knitted sweater.

“Right, of course. I forgot the bad jokes were your thing. Didn’t mean to steal your thunder or anything,” you teased.

After that, you quickly sipped up the rest of the drink before setting it back on the counter with a dull thunk. Things had only gotten more crowded as the night drew on, and he found whatever social battery he had quickly being drained because of it.

“Thanks for coming with me tonight,” you said softly, head returning to lean against your hand as you looked up at him. Even sitting next to him he was still so much bigger than you. “Honestly, I thought you were going to say no. Doesn’t really seem like your type of place so… just know I appreciate it.”

What gave that impression? His tense shoulders? Or his eyes flickering around the room at least twenty times every minute like he was constantly on edge?

“Don’t mention it,” he said, his voice low and rumbly.

You smiled something soft, something fleeting as your eyes dropped down to look at his hands clasped around the cup of water. He hadn’t taken a single sip of it the entire time the two of you sat there. Not that you had expected him to, anyway. Certainly not with that mask of his. Maybe some time in the future you’d ask him about it, but that moment wasn’t the right time.

“I’ll probably be headed out, then,” you said, pushing your empty glass towards the bartender who swiped it away almost instantly. “I’ll just make a quick stop by the bathroom. You can head out now if you don’t want to stick around.”

He sat there for a moment in thought. Mind wandering to the faded bruises that had once littered your body, your wrist, your cheek. How blood dribbled down your chin in a crimson river, nearly staining your pristine blouse. And for a moment he couldn’t remember when that image of you started to plague him worse than that of the death and gore he had seen out in the field.

“I’ll wait,” he said after deliberating. And then, “sure you don’t need a ride?”

“No, I’ll be alright. I walked here,” you assured him as you slid out of your seat.

Somehow that was worse.

You slipped away before he could protest that idea, and he grumbled as he pushed his cup of water towards the end of the bar. Shitty music filled his ears as he sat there waiting for you, and without your voice to drown out the commotion around him, it consumed him. Sharp crack of the billiard balls crashing together, the scent of greasy pub pizza, the ringing of a bell as the door opened, the chilling October breeze bleeding into the building, the stale scent of cigarettes.

A new loud, and frankly irritating, voice filled the bar, and it was so grating Simon found himself twisting in his seat to see the idiot for himself. He was a tall man, shorter than him but still enough to stick out in the crowd. By the looks of it he had already pregamed pretty hard before showing up, but other than being annoying, there was no reason for Simon to concern himself with the man.

So he turned back around, taking his dark gaze off of the man as he continued to sit there, waiting for you. Which was taking much longer than he had expected. Perhaps you had broken the seal and all the alcohol you had consumed was passing straight through you. Either way, he would wait all night if he had to. He had decided there was no way in hell he was going to allow you to walk home alone from a pub.

That’s when he heard your name. It felt odd hearing it come from such an ear-aching voice, and he couldn’t help but snap his head back over to the annoying patron that had caught his attention previously.

And that’s when he saw you, face flushed from the alcohol, standing hardly a few steps away from the bathrooms with wide eyes. He knew that expression well. It was something he saw a lot. On his mothers face when his father returned home from a night of drinking. On the face of an enemy he stood above, ready to deal the final blow. On his own face when he looked in the mirror as a child.

“Don’t talk to me.” Even over the dull drum of the music he could hear your voice. Despite how shaky you sounded, it was still surprisingly strong. But not strong enough to ward off the patron.

“Come on, don’t be like that,” the man pushed, his words slurring as he attempted to saunter closer to you. “I missed you, you know that?”

Before you knew it his hand was wrapped around your wrist and the stench of alcohol was hot on his breath as it fanned across your face. It sent Simon’s stomach twisting almost painfully, so painfully that he stood from his seat, boots thumping as they marched across the bar floor.

Then came the sound of flesh crashing against flesh as the palm of your hand slapped the man across the face. It was enough to grab the attention of everyone in the surrounding area, including the bartender who looked like he was one bad comment away from dialing 999.

“Get your fucking hands off of me,” you seethed.

Unfortunately for you, the slap hardly seemed to phase him, and his grip only tightened. The man’s jaw set taut as his other hand came up and grabbed your waist with bruising force, drawing you closer to him as he bared his teeth in a snarling grin.

“You fucking minx.”

It was disgusting. The very sight of that man with his hands on you like he had won a prize. Greedy fingers digging into your flesh like he planned to take, and take, and take. Simon had seen it all before. Seen it in his own flesh as unwanted hands clawed at him. Felt it on his face in the form of a vile, wet tongue swiping around his mouth. It was in the screams he couldn’t hold back as the hook tore through his flesh. It was in the blood that spilled down his body as he hung there while they laughed. It was in the maggots that he sat in as he was buried alive. It was-

It was the pain he felt in his hand as his knuckles collided with the man’s jaw, snapping his head to an uncomfortable angle. In an instant his body went rigid and then limp. Those revolting hands fell away from you as his body collided with the floor beneath him, and the only sound he was able to make was a fit of air leaving his lungs upon impact.

Everything fell silent except for the sound of that terrible, incessant music that blared over the speakers. All Simon could do for a moment was stare down at the man as the lights slowly flickered back on in his head, a low groan bubbling in his throat as his hands pawed at his surely aching jaw.

Movement caught the corner of his eye, and he quickly turned his head where he found you rubbing at your wrist. Yarn from your knitted sweater stuck out of the edge of your sleeve at odd angles, having been tugged on too violently to hold together properly. He saw the tears prickling the edge of your eyes, and that was the last straw for him.

Simon led you out of the pub after tossing some cash the bartender's way, leaving that shitty music and that asshole far behind the two of you. He walked you home just like he told himself he would, and a long stretch of silence sat between the two of you until you reached your front door.

It wasn’t until he helped you inside that you noticed his split knuckles. In a way, it reminded you of the way your lip had split with that tiny, vertical cut. He didn’t seem phased in the slightest, and yet you practically begged him to let you clean him up. Something that he begrudgingly obliged to.

As you led him into your living room, he tried to ignore the fist shaped hole in the wall by the entrance, and the discarded lamp on the counter that looked like someone had attempted to glue the shattered glass back together. He let you sit him down on the couch while you disappeared off into the bathroom to retrieve any first-aid items that you had stored away.

Blood soaked into the swab you used to dab away at the wounds on his knuckles, cleaning it with a little bit of rubbing alcohol. It caught him off guard just how gentle you were with him; with the hands that had just knocked the lights out of someone. His eyes didn’t leave you for a second as you held his hand, working with the diligence of a surgeon cutting someone open. And maybe in a way you were; cutting him open, looking at the soft parts of him that he hid behind his mask.

It wasn’t until after you put a few Hello Kitty band-aids over his knuckles that you explained just who that man was. He was your ex, and he was responsible for almost all the damage that had been done in your life. The hole in your wall, the bruises that had littered your collar bone, the broken lamp, your split lip.

Never before had he been so glad to harm someone. Any other time it was a necessity. Saving himself. Saving a comrade. Nothing that he ever took pleasure or joy in. It was just work. But that? Hurting that man the way he did? He took joy in that.

When it came time for him to leave, you walked him to the door, your head feeling fuzzy from the mix of alcohol and from the anxiety that had held your chest in a vice grip for the last hour. As Simon ducked out of the doorway, you couldn’t help but smile slightly.

“See you next week, Simon.”

That was the moment that he decided he liked the way his name sounded when you said it. You never barked it like an order, or screamed it in anger. He had hated his name for a long while, hated being called anything other than his callsign for work. But when it came from your lips, well, maybe it wasn’t all that terrible.

“Yeah,” he said, shoving his hands into his pockets. The band-aids pulled awkwardly at his skin as he paused on the porch of your apartment. “See you next week.”

He vanished off into the night and you shut and locked the door behind him before returning to the living room to clean up the mess you made patching him up. All you could think about while you cleaned up the blood soaked cotton was the tone of his voice, and the fact that you don’t think you had ever heard him say a farewell like that to you, if at all.

The very same thought plagued his mind as he made his way back to the pub where he had parked his car. His tone had even caught himself off guard. It was almost as if he was making a promise to you. Maybe he was.

A huff of air pushed through his nostrils, mask muffling the sound as he shook his head at himself. Fingers flexed in his pockets and he ignored the slight sting of the freshly broken skin.

It wasn’t supposed to happen like that. It wasn’t supposed to happen at all. And though Simon Riley wasn’t a stranger to surprises, he didn’t think he’d find himself making promises so soon to the only soft spot that had grown in his life.

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#simon ghost riley #simon riley x reader #mw2 fanfic #ghost x reader #mw2 x reader #mw2 x you

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sameheart-sameblood · 1 year

Text

Love in the Time of Cordyceps

pairing: joel miller x f!reader

summary: when the world ends, you promise you'll never love again. joel miller makes that rule hard to stick to

words: 7.1k

warnings: mentions of gore (pretty tame but still), swearing, sickness, angst, fluff, two dummies not realizing they love each other until one of them almost dies 🙄

a/n: this was supposed to be more angsty but then i remembered life is hard enough already. and i just want soft joel soooo here we are. also i meant to write 2k at most but boy do i love to ramble

read on ao3!

After the world goes to hell, you promise yourself you’ll never love again. A person, an animal, a place, nothing. Only a fool would choose to make themselves that vulnerable, needing every fiber of your being one hundred percent devoted to your survival and nothing more.

Was a life without love worth living? Every time that question enters your mind, you swat it aside. It’s like a nagging fly that buzzes around you until your persistence finally drives it away completely. Of course you could live without love. You’d been doing it just fine these past fifteen years.

Living without attachment proves useful in the new world you find yourself in. It makes the countless people you lose along the way easier to move on from. In the early days, your heart still twinges as the people around you drop like flies. Most fall victim to the bites of clickers, some to raiders’ gun, a few by their own hand.

The first group you had travel with is filled with Midwesterners who see the terrors of the new world and still somehow have a smile and a joke for you. Their joviality can’t save them, though. Clickers swarm you one rainy night two years after the fall of civilization. The sight of Gail, a woman who reminds you of your grandmother, having her stomach ripped out by an especially voracious clicker cures you of your need for any connections to the living.

Over the years, you make your way to the East Coast. Smiles, defiant in the face of adversity are replaced by permanent grimaces etched into the faces of everyone you meet. It seems as though every survivor has lost the ability for happiness of any kind. Good, you think, they’re finally learning. You wonder what took them so long.

Tales of peace the Canadian wilderness has to offer reaches your ears. In your heart you know it is most likely a tall tale spread by desperate survivors. But the good thing about a zombie apocalypse is you now have nothing but time on your hands. Working your way north, if all goes well, you’ll reach Saint John by May, continue to Port Elgin and then decide if you’d try for Prince Edward Island or turn east to Nova Scotia.

Plans are made to be broken, though, and yours, along with your ankle, break clean through one day as you make your way through Boston. It would have been over for you if not for the two survivors that find you nursing your injury in a department store that will most likely be swarming with clickers by nightfall.

The woman, after she puts her gun away, introduces herself as Tess. The man doesn’t offer his name, preferring to keep the barrel of his shotgun pointed at you. As they argue quietly over what to do with you, you observe their faces. Both are etched hard with years of loss and worry. Even harder than your joyless face. It’s impressive albeit in a sad kind of way.

Tess had somehow persuades the man to help you back to the Boston QZ. Joel. You hear her call him Joel. “Fine,” he had grumbles as he places your arm over his shoulder for support, “but if she scans red, I will not hesitate to put her down.” Oddly enough his threat somehow makes you almost like him. You sense a kindred spirit. Another follower of the “no love, no attachment” way of life.

You do not, in fact, scan red and are allowed to enter the QZ. An apartment is assigned to you, a crappy little studio with faded lime green paint. The old you would have adored it, called it quirky and planned out how best to decorate it with your meager funds. The new you just appreciates a safe place to sleep.

After your ankle heals, Tess invites you to join her smuggling scheme. Thoughts of Canada flee your mind for the time-being and you gladly welcome something to keep yourself occupied.

“But what about the cowboy?” you ask.

“Joel? What about him?”

Your eyebrows arch, “He threatened to shoot me.”

“Only if you were infected. Just don’t get infected.” She says it like you’re discussing the weather.

Joel allows you into the group begrudgingly, probably because he thinks they can use you as bait or a distraction if needed. Fine. Let them label you bait. You’ve been called worse before.

The first few months working together are tense. Joel reprimands you for the smallest mistakes and warns Tess you’ll get them all killed. At first, you bite your tongue, reminding yourself of the part he had in saving you. But one night after he scolds you for the millionth time about not checking your blind spots for clickers, you snap. “Fuck off, Joel! I survived the clickers for fifteen years. I think I know what I’m fucking doing!.”

He holds up his hands in surrender, wandering off with a hurt pout like he wasn’t the one who was just being the asshole. You wonder why your victory leaves you feeling hollow.

After that, Joel keeps his mouth shut around you. No nagging, no “helpful” tips. Just the bare minimum of whatever he needs to convey. You’ll never admit that it hurts. You don’t have to, though. Tess, at the end of her rope, explodes one night as the three of you eat dinner in awkward silence. “Couple of fuckin’ babies I’m working with,” she seethes. “If you don’t grow up I’m finding a new crew.”

It’s decided that you and Joel will do the next supply run to Bill’s. Alone. No Tess there to act as buffer between you and him. Joel grunts at that but doesn’t argue, always deferring to your leader. The trip to Bill’s goes as well as you can ask. There are no arguments between the two of you at least. You’re sure you even see Joel crack a smile. Of course it’s when you clumsily tripped over a raised tree root…But hey, progress is progress.

With the supplies in tow and Frank’s compound behind you, you actually think this trip might be a success. A gang of raiders lying in wait to sabotage you dashes your hopes of that. They had seen the two of you lugging your supplies and thought it would be an easy win. At first, they are correct. They outnumber you and Joel in size and wickedness. The four of them aren’t content to kill you outright. They tie you up and discuss what to do with you next.

Of course their attention quickly falls on you. The man with an ugly gash across his face leers at you. “Maybe we should keep her around awhile. She looks like fun.” Try as you might to act tough, that sends the blood rushing through your ears.

You almost don’t hear Joel snarl at them. “You lay one finger on her and it’ll be the last thing you ever do.” The venom in his voice snaps you back to reality. While their attention is on him, you discreetly start ripping at your bonds with the little pocket knife you thankfully decided to stow in your back pocket.

They beat Joel senseless by the time you get free. You honestly think you’re too late as you stab the goon nearest to you in the thigh, by some miracle hitting his femoral artery. The others turn to you, blindsided as you go wild at the sight of your bloodied and broken companion. Gash-Face comes roaring at you, all brawn no brains. The look of surprise as you lodge the knife in his neck makes you smile with sickening glee.

The remaining two corner you, murder in their eyes. Your gun is just beyond them, taunting you to come retrieve it. The only “weapon” you have is the belt you’re wearing, it’s clasp heavy and silver. You undo it and swing it at the nearest man. He grabs it, cackling victoriously as he uses it to pull you closer. In their grasp, you become the target of their blows. You curl into the fetal position, angry that after all the near death experiences you’ve had, this will be the way you go out.

A shot rings out, then another. Two thuds on the ground next to you make you open your already swollen eyes. As you look up, you realize your savior is Joel. Back from the dead. His face is covered in blood, like some kind of ghoul. But in that moment, you have never seen someone look more like an angel. The two of you limp back to the QZ where Tess nurses you as she simultaneously curses the deceased thugs.

Joel corners you in the bathroom the next day as you study your bruised face. “You could have run,” he hisses at you, making you jump. You don’t know what he wants so you just shrug. He invades your space, making you back against the counter. “Why didn’t you run?” His voice has gone low, anger simmering just beneath the surface.

Faces inches from each other, all you can muster is a weak, “We’re a team. I wasn’t going to leave you.”

Several emotions flicker across his face in quick succession. Anger, fear, worry and something you can’t quite put your finger on. Pride? Maybe that was you projecting but you hope you were right. Joel studies you for a moment longer, then reiterates, “Next time, you run.”

******

After that, things change. Joel is still a man of few words but the ones he does grace you with are softer and more intentional. Instead of berating you for the knowledge and skills you lack, he takes them time to teach you. He shows you how to identify fake ration cards and to spot the kind of guard you can bribe. Nights are spent with you following behind him like a shadow as he shows you all the secret ways in and out of the QZ. When your hands shake during target practice, he places his calloused ones over yours. It steadies your hands but frays your nerves, threatening to awake a feeling long thought dormant.

It goes both ways. Joel lacks attention to detail in certain situations and you show him how to read people and ascertain their flaws that can be exploited. During your runs you point out the flora that can be consumed safely or used as medicine. At Flynn’s, the only bar in the QZ, you teach him how to play pool. An essential to survival? No. But it sure helps you win a huge stash of ration cards from your fellows survivors. It also gives you an excuse to sidle up behind him and mold your body around his, all in the name of helping him get the “proper pool stance.”

Your excuses to fleetingly touch one another became more and more common. They are all perfectly innocent but carry the weight of something elicit, at least to you. Joel is never one to give away his innermost thoughts, happy to wear a permanent poker face. For all you know he couldn’t care less about you. Maybe he just knows keeping you alive is good for business and that’s why he takes a particular interest in making sure you’re safe. Whatever the reason, you hope he never stops.

******

During one supply run, a torrential thunderstorm forces you to spend the night at Bill and Frank’s. You know it makes Joel nervous to be indebted to anyone for such hospitality but you can’t hide your glee. A night there means a cozy bed and a hot shower, something hard to find in your home where the water runs tepid at best.

Afterwards spending way too long in the bathroom, you curl up in your bed, toasty and content, only to find sleep won’t not come. Your hosts are dear to you, even the grumpy Bill, but their snoring through the wall you share makes hopes for a deep sleep impossible.

After an hour of tossing and turning, you decide to go make your bed on the couch. As you tiptoe down the stairs you run into Joel, on his way up . “Going somewhere?” he drawls, exhaustion making his voice deeper than usual. You shrug, “Couldn’t sleep. There are two buzzsaws in the room next door.”

Joel chuckles, “I’ve had that room before. Can’t say it was the best night of sleep I’ve ever had.” You lived for these little snippets into Joel’s life before you came around, always eager to hear more. But the trek to the house through never-ending sleet and over the turbulent river left you more tired than you had felt in years. Right now all you want is to get where you could pass out immediately. “I’m just gonna make camp on the couch,” you say, stifling a yawn.

Joel shakes his head. “You take my room. The couch is good enough for me.” This man. Hadn’t anyone told him chivalry is dead. You sigh tiredly and beckon for him to come back up the stairs with you. “It’s a big bed. We can share.” There is silence behind you where there should have been footsteps. Joel’s smile disappears as his forehead creases in thought. “Please,” you pout, “I can’t sleep in my room and I won’t get any rest knowing you’re crammed on that dainty little loveseat.”

It takes far more coaxing than it should but finally Joel gives you a little nod and follows you into his - your - room. You gesture to the bed, “Care which side you get?” Joel thinks, then shrugs. “Left is good.” You flop onto the right side, eyes immediately drooping shut. Once again, there is no movement from your companion. Without opening your eyes, you chide him, “If you’re gonna be weird and watch me sleep all night then you can go sleep on the couch.” That got him moving again.

The sound of the shower turning on lulls you to a sleep that is disturbed only when you feel the dip of the bed several minutes later. You watch through barely opened eyes as Joel does a strange shimmy under the covers. It’s clear he’s trying his best not to wake you. The sight makes you laugh softly and his head whips to you.

“Thought you were asleep,” he murmurs.

You hum, “I was. You woke me up.”

It’s meant to be a joke but Joel grimaces. “Sorry.”

The sight is sweet and your heart flips, his frown making him look almost boyish. “It’s ok. It’s your bed.”

As you burrow into your cocoon of blankets, Joel props himself up, a pillow behind his back. He looks from you to the bedside lamp and back again. “You mind if I read for a few minutes?”

That surprises you. In all your time together you had rarely seen Joel do something just for the pleasure of it. There was usually no time. But Bill and Frank’s is a sanctuary and even the hyper-vigilant Joel Miller is able to slow down here. You nod enthusiastically, perking up. “What are you reading?”

It’s like you had asked him what his darkest secret was. He reddens, then finally grabs a book from the table. Pride and Prejudice. He stammers, “It’s just…I never had a lot of time for reading before and this was a favorite of…it was a favorite of somebody I knew.”

“You can read out loud to me if you want,” you offer with a grin. Honestly it was half in jest and half a serious hope. It had been decades since anyone had read aloud to you. Joel, always thinking you were making some sort of fun of him, smirks sarcastically. “Not a chance.”

Your glower slowly melts away at the sight of him putting on his reading glasses and settling in. Silently you curse as you feel your hardened heart crack just the tiniest bit. Idiot that you are, you try to talk yourself out of your own feelings. You aren’t attached to Joel. How could you be? He’s just a handsome, rugged man who keeps you safe and reads Jane Austen in his spare time. Maybe some lesser fool would fall for him but not you. No, sir.

The next morning, you find yourself curled into him, chest pressed against his back and arm draped over his side. Like a bomb diffuser, you carefully try to extricate yourself from the position, every movement slow and precise. Joel, still asleep, lazily grabs your hand, keeping your arm around him. He sighs contentedly as you settle back down and you swear under your breath, nestling your head at the crook of his neck. You are so that lesser fool.

******

The thunderstorms of summer give way to the pleasant days of autumn. Those good days don’t seem to last long enough. You should have appreciated them more while they were there but so is the way of being human.

Winter in Boston isn’t fun. Ok that’s an understatement. It makes you long for the soul-sucking, never-ending Midwestern winters you had lived through for most of your life. There is something about being next to the ocean that makes everything feel colder.

The nights are especially hard, the wind seeping through the cracks in the walls of your apartment. No matter how many blankets you tuck around yourself, your body never truly feels warm. Runs to Bill’s or anywhere outside the QZ become less frequent and more difficult. Only those deemed truly necessary are attempted and even then there is always a long discussion beforehand weighing out the pros and cons.

Runs between the months of November and January are too risky and after much debate, it is decided you three would lay low in the relative safety of the QZ. In the meantime, you’d assess your stockpile, make connections over the radio and wait for the spring thaw. With less food smuggled in from the outside, you decide to put your energy into earning ration cards. Even though no one could argue you don’t pull your weight in the group, you often feel like the weak link. Making sure Tess and Joel have a hot meal every night is the least you could do.

Joel had always told you to stay away from sewer work. It paid double what the other jobs did but at a high risk. Besides not being able to wash the stink off for days, the tunnels under the city were treacherous. Many had gone down there only to be blindsided by a stray clicker or jumped by a loner who made their home away from society up above. Some just got lost in the labyrinth, never to be heard from again. Or at least you had been told. You hoped those were just myths.

You and three other desperate souls are sent down to the sewers with the task of clearing the rubble from a recent cave in. A hard day’s work definitely but you were optimistic that you could get it done in a few hours time and be on your way.

The first few hours go well, the biggest pieces of the concrete being cleared easily enough. Your back aches and callouses quickly form on your palms. But still, all of that you can deal with, mollifying yourself with the thought of the stack of ration cards you’ll proudly gift to Joel and Tess.

Maybe if you hadn’t been daydreaming you would have heard the shouts of your fellow volunteers sooner. Finally coming back to reality, you move just in time to avoid another piece of falling rock. You save yourself from being crushed but lose your footing, coming down hard on your shin.

A stream of bright blood instantly trickles from the gash and you swear as you try to keep the tears that spring to your eyes at bay. Wanting to prove yourself, you brush off your group’s insistence that you go get it checked by the doctor. It doesn’t matter if you complete ninety percent of your shift. You still don’t get your payment if you leave early. So you suck it up for another hour, slogging through the muck as you finish the job. It’s fine, you tell yourself, it’s just a scratch. You’ll wash it off when I get home and be good as new.

With the job done and ration cards tucked away in your pocket, you hobble back towards your apartment. The thought of a shower, as lukewarm as it will be, is the only thing keeping you upright. That is until you feel someone putting your arm around their shoulder. Joel helps you the few blocks to your house, his icy silence hurting you more than the cut that now throbs with every jostle.

It’s only after you get inside and are deposited on the couch that Joel speaks. He rolls up the leg of your jeans, cursing as he sees the already festering wound. “I told you to stay out of the sewers.”

You suck in a pained breath as he starts wiping away the dirt. “I’m fine. It’s just a little cut. Besides, it was worth it,” you pull out the stack of ration cards and present them to him proudly. The sight gives him pause. But the look on his face isn’t one of gratitude, it’s worried exasperation. His signature grimace returns, “It’s not worth it if you lose your leg.” And people claim you’re dramatic.

Pushing him away with a shoo, you rise, limping to the bathroom. “I just need a shower. Then I’ll be right as rain.” As you peel off your now ruined clothes, Joel hovers on the other side of the door. “I can hear you pacing,” you call over the sound of the warming shower.

Even through the almost closed door you can hear Joel sigh. “I just think we should take you to the doc. Make sure you’re alright.” The water hitting you makes you audibly moan, the filth on your body washing down the drain and with it, the memory of the hard day. You appreciate the concern but all you want to do know is forget about the day. You call out to a still pacing Joel, “I’m fine. You worry too much!”

******

It turns out Joel worries the right amount. Of course he does. As eager as you are to forget about your day, it’s not long before you can’t ignore your leg. The wound is an angry red and the area around it has swollen, leaving it tender and throbbing. Thankfully you have Joel there to dress it because, honestly, you can’t stomach the sight of it. These past years have been filled with much blood and gore at your own hands. But there’s something different when it’s your own blood.

In any other circumstance you would have reveled in the feeling of Joel holding your leg so tenderly, his fingers brushing against your skin as he wraps the bandage around you. It would have driven you insane seeing him crouched in between your legs as he is now. But at the moment all you can think about is how you much pain you’re in.

You try not to show your discomfort, but your poker face is nonexistent. Joel’s eyes flick up to yours as you slowly exhale, trying to keep calm. Avoidance has always been one of your favorite tactics when dealing with uncomfortable situations so you pipe up, overly perkily, “See? All better. Now about those ration cards, I was thinking for dinner-“

Joel rolls his eyes, standing with a groan, his knees audibly cracking. “The only thing you’re gonna do tonight is rest.”

You slowly turn your body to prop your leg up on a pillow as he watches. Pouting has never worked on Joel but you figure it never hurts to try. “I still have to eat,” you mope.

“You will. I’ll open a can of soup or something.”

The disappointment is real and bubbles to the surface quicker than you realized it would. “I just wanted us all to have a nice dinner. You and Tess do so much and I feel like…” Thinking how you feel is different from saying it out loud and you have to psych yourself up. Joel’s softening gaze helps you continue. “I feel like I’m useless. I just thought this was one thing I could do to really contribute.”

The silence between you feels heavy as you avoid his stare. Finally, he speaks, confusion contorting his features, “Of course you contribute. We wouldn’t have kept you around if you hadn’t.” It’s meant to make you feel better but it doesn’t, especially in your current laid up state.

“So are you going to get rid of me if I’m no longer useful?” you gesture at your leg, feeling your eyes beginning to sting with tears.

Joel sits down next to you. Your fear has made you defiant and you meet his gaze, wanting to fight. But Joel speaks in a soft, level voice, as if teaching a child a lesson. “First of all, you’re going to get better. You just need to be patient. Second, you’re thinking there’s only one kind of way to be useful.”

“I can’t shoot like you two can. I can’t fight. I can’t threaten people into getting what I want. I can go on runs and earn ration cards. That’s it. I’m too soft for anything actually important.”

Joel frowns, “You say that like it’s a bad thing. ‘Being soft’ in a world like this is an act of defiance. It’s brave as hell. What you consider important? I don’t want that for you.”

Warmth spreads through your chest as you observe him. He’s trying so hard to find his next words, to make you believe his truth. “Me and Tess, we let the world harden us more than it needed to. It was easier that way. But having you around reminds us there’s still innocence and good out there.”

The angry tears have turned to ones of gratitude. The sentiment is too much for you, unused to such vulnerability from Joel. You give him a small smile and he returns it, leaning over to wipe a tear off your cheek. “You’re useful just being you.”

While you still wish you matched Joel and Tess’ levels of badassery, the conversation helps ease your mind. You might not think much of your survival skills but you remind yourself that you’ve stayed alive in a world that wants you dead. Fifteen years you’ve been fighting and surviving and that’s nothing to look down on.

“And for what it’s worth, “ he adds, “you scared the hell out of me the first time we met.”

You grin at him, shocked, “Really?”

He nods, smirking cheekily, “Really. Still do sometimes.”

******

Joel heats up a can of tomato soup for you to share. You try not to think of how old it must be as he prepares it. But actually, it’s not bad, the taste reminding you of your childhood.

It also helps that you’re sharing it with someone you care about. A part of you hates that how easily you’ve let him into your heart. The one thing you swore off all those years ago is now all you can think about as you watch him sitting across from you, ladling out the steaming liquid.

He catches you staring and breaks the silence, “Were you even going to tell me you got hurt today if I hadn’t run into you.” The fuzziness of your feelings for him makes your brain a little mushy and instead of having a grownup conversation, you reply with a childish, “No, I thought I’d let it be a soup-rise.”

Joel rolls his eyes in mock annoyance. You chuckle and continue eating your rapidly cooling dinner. You sober up a bit and add, “The extra ration cards will be good, though. Right?”

He nods, “Yeah. I think it’s soup-er.” His eyes flick up to yours as they crinkle, the only sign that he finds himself amusing.

After dinner, Joel excuses himself to go work his overnight shift. When he leaves and you’re left along, the throbbing in your leg returns with a vengeance along with a mild fever. Your usually chilly apartment now feels stuffy and you have to remove all of your layers except your t-shirt to be even somewhat comfortable.

Worry creeps in as you sit there, alone and increasingly unwell. You long for the company of Joel or Tess, anyone to reassure you that you’re fine. But you’re alone and the dark thoughts creep in, whispering in your ear that whatever is brewing is not good. Unsure of what else to do, you slip in to bed, hoping that whatever this is will be better by morning.

******

You don’t wake for two days. Or at least, you have no real memory of the past 48 hours. Later, when the worst is over, Joel will tell you the details of that lapse in your memory. He’ll recount how you faded in and out of consciousness, sometimes submitting to your fever for so long that he wasn’t sure you were coming back. His voice will waver as he remembers how bad it got and how fragile you looked…

But for now, he stays by your side, foregoing his own health to make sure you stay alive. The first thing you remember is waking up to the sounds of Joel and Tess arguing in hushed tones.

“We need to get her to a doctor. Now.” Joel’s voice sounds strained, like he’s trying desperately not to lose it.

Tess still maintains her signature composure. “We can’t, Joel. It’s too late for that.”

Joel must make some kind of face because Tess sighs and re-words. “It’s too late to take her in because if we bring her to the hospital all they’ll focus on is her fever. They’ve put people down for way less. You know that.”

In your addled state, you wonder who they’re talking about. Your throat hurts to much to speak up though and ask.

“The doc will give us the meds. We’ve bribed him before.”

Tess shakes her head, “Antibiotics are on lockdown. Shipments have been delayed because of the weather. No one gets any without FEDRA knowing. Breaking in guarantees we get caught. We’re no good to her dead. ”

Joel scoffs, “So what do you suggest we do?”

“She rides it out.”

“She’s been ‘riding it out’ for two days. Look at her,” Joel’s voice gets closer as he peers down at you, “she’s fighting but she’s losing.”

Oh. Fever may have taken hold of you, making your brain fuzzy and concentration near impossible, but you understand now that you are the subject of their argument. For Joel to sound so forlorn you must look bad.

If you’re dead soon, you want to let them know to leave it and just let you slip away. Your well-being means nothing if it puts them in unnecessary danger. Rule be damned, they’re your family now and you care about them. If you’re being honest, you’ve cared about them since you met them. It breaks your heart thinking you won’t be able to tell them that now. It nearly kills you right then and there to know you won’t get the chance to tell Joel you love him…

Opening your mouth to articulate all of that takes great effort and when you do try and speak, all that comes out is a strangled groan. The two rush over, Tess sitting down beside you. She takes your hand, an uncharacteristic show of tenderness. Yep, you’re dying.

“You’re ok, kid,” she whispers, “you just have to hang in there.” It would be easy to ignore reality and blindly trust her. But you’ve always been stubborn and so you shake your head and continue trying to speak. Again, nothing comes out but garbled nonsense as you writhe around trying to make your limbs do what your brain wants.

You must look a sight because Joel lets his anger overflow. “Maybe you can sit here and watch her die, but I can’t.”Heavy footsteps and Tess yelling are all that you can focus on as you fade back into oblivion.

******

Living is hard and unconsciousness is addicting. Peaceful and cozy are feelings you can scarcely remember having. It would be easy to stay in that enveloping darkness but the feeling of the back of someone’s hand on your clammy forehead pulls you back to the realm of the living. You grumble weakly as you’re made to come to.

Everything is painful. Stabbing jolts of electricity radiate up your leg from the cut. Your chest is tight, making breathing troublesome and your eyes can barely stand the dim, watery sun coming through the shades of the window. Someone places a damp cloth on your forehead to keep the fever at bay. Still out of it, you try and swat it away.

A gentle hand grabs yours, shushing you. “It’s alright. It’s only me.”

Joel. Maybe you have died and this is heaven. The man you love by your side, nursing you so tenderly. It’s more than you could have ever hoped for. This might be the afterlife believers talk about if only you weren’t in so much pain. The neurons in your brain begin firing more rapidly as your fever dies down. They remind you that you and Joel aren’t lovers. Your cowardice, disguised as intelligence, has kept you from telling him how you feel.

“What’s happening?” Your voice comes out croaky and soft but at least it’s intelligible. The bed dips as Joel moves closer to you. As you peer up through barely opened eyelids you can see him leaning over you. His tired eyes look down at you as he caresses your hair.

“You got real sick, honey. That cut you got festered and turned into a fever. We thought we were gonna lose you.” The slight falter in his voice makes your already tight chest contract.

“How long was I out?”

“Three days. We got you some meds, though. You’re gonna be ok.” He says it firmly, which does some good in easing your worry.

Trying to open your eyes a bit more you continue your questioning, “Where did you get the antibiotics from?”

Joel hesitates, “Bill and Frank had some.”

You try and sit up, angry that he made that trip and put himself in danger. Even now, you can see the snow whipping around outside your window. Knowing he made the trek there and back through that storm makes you curse. Joel tuts and puts a gentle hand to your chest, keeping you down and resting.

“It’s done. No use getting angry about it now.”

You glare up at him even though you’re really just upset with yourself. “Why would you do something so stupid?”

His smiles peacefully down at you, exhausted but eyes bright. “We’re a team, remember?”

It’s too much for you to handle. You cover your face just in time to hide the angry, relieved and grateful tears that spring to your eyes. Silent sobs wrack your frame, making you seize with pain.

Joel pulls you into him, shushing you as he resumes stroking your hair. You hide your face in his side, trying to regain your composure. Crying shouldn’t be something you feel the need to earn. But you’re all sorts of broken, so you take this rare opportunity to not judge yourself and weep with abandon. You almost died, for Christ’s sake. Surely that warrants some show of emotion.

After a few minutes, the tears stop and your breathing calms. Peeking up, you see Joel has his eyes closed. His face is the most serene you’ve seen it in ages, most of the worry lines softened. There’s still a few that refuse to relax, though. The crease in between his eyebrows remains stubbornly indented. You gaze up at him as he continues to run soothing patterns along your back.

Feeling the weight of your stare, he opens his eyes. Coward that you are, you glance away. “Thank you,”is all you can mumble out as he gazes at you. After a moment, you add a shy, “I would do the same for you. You know that, right?”

Joel pulls you gently into him, almost to remind himself you’re still here with him and that the danger has passed. He nuzzles into your hair, murmuring an affectionate“I know, honey. I know.”

******

After a few more hours and another dose of antibiotics, you begin to feel more like yourself. Joel still won’t let you get out of bed yet, except for a trip to the bathroom for a quick shower. Even though you’ve been dead to the world for much of your ordeal, you’re quickly getting bored with bed rest. But you’ve learned long ago that resistance is futile with Joel. So you shower like a good patient, scowling as the water hits your scabbing cut.

Once you finish, Joel hops in and washes the grime and worry of the past three days off. As you settle back in bed, you can hear him singing softly to himself. Through the patter of the water you can hear his soft rendition of Fleetwood Mac’s Songbird. It’s one of your favorites, too, and you hum along as you settle back into your pillow.

After a few minutes, sleep still won’t come. You toss and turn as Joel finishes getting ready for bed. He comes in to find you still awake. “I thought I told you to get some sleep.” He says it like a loving mother gently scolding their rebellious child.

You flail as you try and get comfortable. You shoot back a moody, “But I’m just not tired.” Joel chuckles as he sits down into the arm chair next to your bed. He smooths back his wet hair and gives you a faux stern look. “Your body’s been through a lot. You need rest.”

“What are you doing?” you ask.

Joel looks confused, wondering what he did wrong. “Sorry I just thought I’d sleep here tonight in case you need anything. I can leave, though.”

“No!” you yell out, completely abandoning any hope of looking cool. You give him an apologetic smile, “I want you to stay but you’re not sleeping in that chair one more night.”

Joel glances to the spot on the bed beside you, then looks to you for confirmation. He sighs, a smile playing at his lips. “If I stay will you promise to go to sleep?”

You nod very seriously. “Of course.”

Joel grins, knowing you too well to believe you. “Liar,” he chuckles but still gets up and makes his way to the other side of the bed. You pull back the blankets so can get in, then cover him up. Settling on your side, you watch as he suddenly looks lost, unsure of what to do now. It’s cute, this powerful man rendered helpless by something as innocuous as sharing a bed.

You can’t help but laugh at him and he looks down at you, eyes wide. Taking pity on him, you make a suggestion. “If you’re not tired you could read to me.” Joel opens his mouth to refuse but you blurt out a quick, “I did almost die, you know.” He glares at you but his lip quirks up. He grabs the book from the other room then flops back down in bed, opening to a spot in the middle.

Frowning, you reach out to touch Joel’s arm. “Do you mind starting from the beginning?” He rolls his eyes but flips back to the first page. You grin triumphantly as you settle into his side. Joel places his arm around your shoulder as he begins to read. “It is a truth universally acknowledged, that a single man in possession of a good fortune, must be in want of a wife…”

His southern drawl mixed with the Romantic Era style of writing makes for an amusing but pleasant combination. After a few chapters, your eyes get heavy and Joel feels you nodding off against him. Jane has just been invited to Netherfield Park but even that can’t keep you awake. Joel puts the bookmark in to save your spot and places the novel on your bedside table.

You grumble in weak protest as he tucks you in and turns off the light. “We can keep reading tomorrow. But right now you’re going to sleep.” Joel lies down beside you and with the pale light of the moon through your curtains you can see him studying you. He caresses your face and you close your eyes, delighting in the sensation.

“Don’t ever scare me like that again,” he whispers.

You force your eyes open, needing him to see the truth of it when you pledge a soft,“I won’t. I mean it.”

Joel nods gratefully and you reach out for him. He slides into your arms and you rest your chin on the top of his head. He’s watched over you for long enough. It’s your turn to take care of him and reassure him that, in this moment, you both are safe.

For most, an outright admission of affection is needed to understand how you feel about the other person. But you and Joel are cut from the same cloth, stubborn and slow to reveal your feelings. In this world, for people like you, ’I love yous’ are rare and replaced with actions and deeds.

You realize that even though you've never told Joel that you love him, you’ve shown it. Joel has been showing you all this time too and you were just too dull to realize it. While you know you’ll long to say the words to him soon, for now it’s enough to have him in your arms.

Joel’s breathing deepens and you feel him completely give himself over to sleep. Looking at his face bathed in the moonlight he looks like a new man. His edges soften and his vulnerability brims to the surface. It tugs at your heart and you understand how rare of a sight this is for Joel to allow anyone to see.

Smiling sleepily, you close your eyes and nestle into him. This feeling coursing through you is something foreign but familiar, an old friend you thought you had said your final goodbye to long ago. The love you have for Joel will leave you vulnerable. But it’s a price you’re willing to pay a thousand times over.

******

#im on a mission to make joel as soft as possible lol #joel miller x reader #joel miller x you #joel miller fanfiction #tlou #tlou hbo #pedro pascal #allie writes

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wongyuuu · 9 months

Text

Willow | 02

pairing: seungcheol x fem!reader genre: angst, marriage of convenience word count: 5.2k summary: seungcheol always knew that he was going to marry you, but things only get harder once he does (or in which seungcheol is just really dumb and doesn't know how to show his feelings)

part one | part two | part three (final) | drabble

Seungcheol functioned like clockwork.

Every day he woke up at the exact same time, his alarm was obnoxiously loud — especially considering how much of a light sleeper he was —, showered, cocked the same breakfast, and left the apartment precisely at 7:45.

You don’t remember him being that punctual but your best guess was that grown-up Seungcheol took his life and responsibilities much more seriously than teenage him. And he probably had a lot on his plate too. He was set to take over the firm once his dad retired, something that wouldn’t happen any time soon, but it always felt like something he was being prepared for it.

And being honest, you couldn’t say that you knew this version of Seungcheol, not really. He was hot and cold with you, mostly cold, so it was hard to know where you stood in your relationship with him.

Truth was, that had a lot to do with you as well. You weren’t trying to make things easier for the two of you, if anything it felt like you were trying your best to make it as hard as possible — even if that wasn’t your intention at all.

While your husband was always perfectly on time, you were always running around late for every single appointment you could ever make. People from work already knew that if there was a student scheduled for 10:00h, you’d probably get there a little later. It really wasn’t on purpose, you tried your best to be on time, even tried to follow along with Seungcheol’s agenda. But it never worked out. So instead of being on time and having everything ready, all it did was make you nervous and even more late.

You also didn’t follow a schedule for your day. Every day, on your way home, you made a little detour, never failing in finding a new place to go or a different restaurant to try.

At the end of the day, you and Seungcheol lived separate lives, barely talking to each other, or even acknowledging each other. Most of it was just niceties because both of you felt the need to do so. It would have felt even more awkward to walk past each other in the hallway and don’t even say good morning. Anyone who looked at the two of you would think that you were just roommates, not actually married. Hell, not even friends.

If anything, the house arrangement contract you wrote made things even worse — if that was even possible.

After signing it, with a look of complete disbelief on his face, Seungcheol went to his room. His words “my own wife is telling me that she wants to date other men while saying that I should date other women” still rang in your head. You didn’t mean for it to sound like that, you didn’t want to push him to do anything at all. Your only thought was that since the marriage was fake, there was no love between you, there was no reason for you to be stuck to each other and live completely without happiness.

There wasn’t anything either of you could do in that regard, there was no way of canceling or ending the marriage, so all you wanted to do was give him a way to find something that could bring him a little bit of joy. If said joy came in the shape of another woman, then so be it.

After that, you never talked again. And he barely showed any emotion at all around you, no reaction. He didn’t complain or seemed fazed when you almost let the dirty water you used to clean your brushes fall on his desk and ruin, well, everything. He still followed the rules you created, almost religiously. Whenever he cooked, he made enough for you, if he was the one doing laundry he was careful not to damage any of your clothes.

Living like that felt oddly lonely.

You were used to being by yourself, having your own space. The last time you shared an apartment with someone, or more specifically, a room, was when you were still in college with Yeda. But the thought of living with someone else but never actually seeing them…

You thought that once you were married you would have someone to share your life with, even if that someone turned out to be Seungcheol. Naively, you figured that all of those years of your childhood spent together — even if those were also forced on both of you —, would play a part in making sure that cohabitation was a possibility.

We could still try to be friends, was what you told yourself.

Because your husband wasn't all that bad, to begin with. You might not see eye to eye on many things but you knew that he was a good person. You had hoped that, maybe, living in the same place, seeing each other every day, would change something about your relationship with him. And in a way, it did. It just wasn't what you expected. Instead of growing closer, you couldn’t be further apart.

You glanced at your phone again, the bright numbers seemed to be mocking you.

It was past 3 am and there was still no sign of Seungcheol. When 9 pm rolled around you assumed he had stayed at the office a little bit longer, finishing up whatever it was. Then 9 became midnight and staying in bed wasn’t something you could stand anymore so you moved to the living room, a book and a blanket in hand. But reading too was hard, the words were all floating around in your mind and none of it actually made any sense. Your mind was too focused on the fact that Seungcheol wasn't home yet to focus on the story.

Another hour went by and there was still no sign of him. The world outside the apartment was quiet and no car could be heard on the street.

The truth was that you were worried about him. There were little bells inside your mind telling you that something must have happened to him because that just wasn’t Seungcheol. It wasn’t him when he was young and it also wasn’t him as an adult. He wasn’t the kind of person who would disappear without telling anyone, so you were sure that there was someone who knew where he was.

The most obvious choice would be to call him and it would have been a great plan if you had his number at all.

The realization that you knew nothing at all about your husband made a sickening feeling slowly spread through your body.

It was so stupid to not have his number and it made absolutely no sense because he was your husband. Even if you were a fake wife, shouldn’t you at least be able to communicate with him if needed? Sometimes people have emergencies that couldn’t wait for their significant other to get home — or in your case never get home at all.

Option number two was to go through the things in his office. He should have at least a business card or something, anything at all, with a phone number. You thought about calling your parents or even his parents. How would you explain that even though you kept telling them that everything was fine, that things were finally falling into place, you didn’t have your husband's number? And never mind knowing someone who worked with him. Seokmin, what that his name? Seokmin probably knew where Seungcheol was but then again, there was no way to reach him either.

You stood up to cross the room, your blanket and book both forgotten on the couch when you heard the sound of keys being put in the lock and a second later the door was pushed open.

Seungcheol stood precariously on his legs, an arm over Seokmin’s shoulders, while the younger one tried his best to stop his friend from falling face-first on the floor.

“Cheol” you breathed in relief and rushed towards him, your hands reached for his cheeks, forcing him to look at you “Cheol…”

He opened his eyes for a second and a drunken smile, or at least an attempt at a smile.

“Ah, wife! Precisely who I wanted to see” his words were slurred, almost in sync with his body as it swayed from side to side.

Seungcheol stepped away from Seokmin and dropped all of his weight onto you. Your arms immediately circled his waist as you bent your knees a little, trying to hold him up.

"Sorry," Seokmin said as he tried to pull Seungcheol from you "I've never seen him get this drunk before, I didn't think it possible"

Neither did you, but then again there was a lot about Seungcheol that you didn't know.

"It's fine" you moved your feet back until you felt the couch behind your knees and with Seokmin's help you were able to get Seungcheol to sit "Thank you for bringing him home"

Seokmin smiled at you, tightly. He wanted to say more but he knew that if he did he would be butting in your relationship with Seungcheol and his friend would probably give him hell for it. Drunk Seungcheol was a problem — in the form of a cute lovesick oversized puppy, as he has recently discovered —, but sober Seungcheol would bite his head off without as much as a warning.

"I should have brought him home earlier, before he drank himself stupid"

You shook your head and pushed the hair out of Seungcheol’s forehead. You couldn't even bring yourself to be mad at him, not really. Before he got home you felt this pain in your stomach, telling you that there was something incredibly wrong, that he was in some kind of trouble. But the only real trouble was the fact he had, as Seokmin said, drank himself stupid.

"Honestly, it's okay. I'm just glad he's home safe. Again, thank you for that"

"I wish I could say it was no trouble" he laughed lightly "Do you need help with anything?"

You shook your head.

"I got it from here"

Seokmin opened the door and let himself out. He stopped for a second as if remembering something and reached for the inside pocket of his jacket, pulling out a business card. He didn't say anything as put it by your keyes.

You realized then that he knew. Seokmin knew about your relationship with Seungcheol, or lack of it. He just smiled and closed the door. You stayed frozen in place, looking at the door, as if somehow it would grant you answers.

Though you had told Yeda the true nature of your marriage, you never expected Seungcheol to do the same and to Seokmin, of all people. Not that you really knew him but just based on his interaction with Seungcheol on your wedding day, Seokmin was the last person you would expect to know the truth.

"y/n," Seungcheol said and you turned to him, "I think I want to throw up"

His warning was almost too late, there was no time to get him to the bathroom or for you to get him a bucket, but just enough for him to grab on the flower vase in front of the couch. You turned away from him, knowing that the smell of vomit wouldn't bother you, but seeing him throw up actually would.

"I'm really sorry"

It had been so long since you last heard him talk like that, almost childlike. The Seungcheol you knew liked to pose as this big, bad guy, but in reality, he was more of a softy that got things done. He could pout for days if he wanted.

Not only did he sound childlike, but he also looked like a child that messed up. His eyes were almost helpless as he looked at the floor, then his shoes, and finally his suit jacket.

"Don't worry about it" You reached a hand for him. His eyes focused on your hand, almost mesmerized, before his long fingers wrapped around yours "Let's get you cleaned up and ready for bed"

You helped him off his jacket and held both of his hands as he allowed you to pull him up from the couch. He pushed his shoes off once you reached the hall leading up to his room. This time, instead of putting all of his weight on you, Seungcheol used the wall to steady himself, still his arm was around your shoulder and he leaned a little towards you.

You wanted to ask him what happened, what made him want to drink so much. More than anything you wanted to know why he didn't warn you in advance.

Over the four months that you lived together, though there was no real interaction between the two of you, Seungcheol always found ways to talk to you. At first, there was a yellow post-it stuck to your door. They were simple notes. I made breakfast, or dinner with your parents tonight, I'll pick you up at 7. And sometimes they were more caring, those, you came to realize, were always blue. Do you still hate spinach? just in case, i didn't add any or let me know if there's anything you want to eat and even i canceled dinner tonight with my mom, you looked tired last night, you should rest this weekend.

He always made sure to tell you if he was going to be late, always. So not knowing where he was… you hated it.

Seungcheol didn't complain when you pushed him down on the mattress and undid his tie, later moving on to his shirt and then using it to clean his mouth

You didn't realize but Seungcheol's eyes were on you the entire time. Despite the alcohol, his mind was hyper-aware of your finger touching his skin, on the way you kept biting your lips as if doing your best to hold back from cussing him out.

"Can you shower on your own?" Seuncheol made a noise that you could only translate as a no "Do you want to brush your teeth?"

You probably already knew the answer to that too but still had to ask. His eyes were almost closed and he stayed sitting by some sort of miracle.

"I don't think I should stand up again" You nodded at him and turned around, you could at least get him to use some mouthwash before he fell asleep and maybe get him to drink a glass of water, but he held your hand and lightly pulled you back — not in a forcible way, just to get your attention "I don't like it when you make that face"

His voice was so quiet, barely above a whisper.

"It's the same face you did on our wedding day, when you walked down the aisle. You looked so pretty but sad, and angry too. Why were you so angry?"

You looked at his eyes for a second before looking away. They were all too demanding, wanting more than you were willing to give him. Your wedding day, believe it or not, wasn't a day you thought about too often and when you did think about it felt like years had gone by. The night you decided to suggest the contract was the one you thought of more often, with much more sadness.

"I wasn't angry"

Your voice was quiet as pulled the duvet for him to get under. In silence, Seungcheol removed his pants and laid down. He let go of your hand for only a second before holding it again.

"I was scared and worried, like today. You were gone for a really long time and I didn't know where you were. I couldn't even call you"

Having those thoughts around your mind was so different from actually saying them out loud, saying them to Seungcheol. If the night taught you one thing was that you didn't know anything at all about your husband. Everything you thought you knew was wrong. But if you could make a guess, judging by the way his eyes seemed to be a little more focused and his words a little less slurred, it was probably okay to say that he was sobering up. Maybe throwing up was all he needed.

"Our marriage is just so weird. My wife told me to sleep with other people" he laughed and pulled his hand away, closing his eyes "It's almost like we're friends with benefits but without the friendship part nor the benefits. We're just a piece of paper. If you think about it, we're nothing really"

Tomorrow, you suddenly promised yourself, tomorrow will be different and we will start this all over again.

The second he said yes to drinking with Seokmin, Seungcheol knew that he would regret it. The first time he went to a bar with the younger one, Seuncheol told him all about his fake marriage. So, of course, the second time couldn't be much different. He regretted it for more reasons than he cared to admit.

The entire night he behaved like a pubescent thirteen year old complaining about the fact that his crush didn't like him back. He was stupid enough to tell Seokmin all about the contract you came up with, to which his friend laughed hysterically. Because you must be the shitties husband in the history of the world if your wife has already given up on you like this.

And if that was what you thought of him, if you saw him as the worst husband in the history of the world, could he blame you? On your wedding way, that is known to be a day that everyone remembers, he was a complete idiot to you. No excuse he could ever come up with would be good enough. Because, truth be told, his behavior then had been inexcusable. In your shoes, he would have probably done much worse. You had shown him mercy.

And kept showing him mercy, even after months of him being silent and barely being in the apartment. He used work as an excuse often to get him out of situations in his daily life. He never thought that he would use it as a way to stay clear of you.

Because Seungcheol did work a lot but he also knew how to take time off. His job was important and his clients too were important, but he learned that he should have time to himself. and now that he was married, he needed to have time for you too. Even if it was just to stay home with you. He should have done that but instead, he found ways to be at the office until later than he usually did, took clients that he normally wouldn’t, and did the most stupid thing of all: went to a bar with Seokmin.

And the worse part of it all was that he remembered every single thing that he did the night before. He wished he was one of those people who get drunk and just forget about all the embarrassing things they did. But he wasn’t.

Seungcheol remembered being carried home by Seokmin, who again was having too much fun laughing at him, he remembers throwing up, the way you held on to him. But more than anything he remembers the way you said his name, Cheol, ever so quietly, when he walked in, the way your eyes searched his face as if looking for anything that could be wrong with him — other than being drunk.

He hated that he talked about being friends with you while he was drunk. Hated that you didn’t get to hear him while he was sober because he had prepared a whole speech for you, almost as if he was going to court and needed to plead his case.

He had plans to talk to you and maybe that was why he went out with Seokmin, to get his friend to push in the direction he wanted to go. Because truth be told, Seungcheol was scared.

For over ten years of his life, he knew that he would marry you. So had time to think about it, and ponder on every possibility that could happen. Because he had been in love with you for longer than that, but not once he was allowed to act on his feelings. At first, it was because of your brother, then because of himself, and then finally when you closed a door on his face — metaphorically speaking.

And when he finally had a chance to do so, he fucked up. There was no other way to say it. The two of you were already married, so what was the worst thing that could happen? For you to reject him? That was already happening.

He hated that he lost the chance to charm you from the get-go. And then again for months. He couldn’t miss the chance yet again.

Seungcheol pushed himself up on his elbows, tentatively opening his eyes. He expected the room to be filled with light but he was surprised to see that the only source of it came from the half opened door. He never closed his blinds before going to bed, he never felt the need to as he usually got up as soon as the sun was up, and he certainly hadn’t closed them the night before going to bed.

However, no amount of darkness could make him look past you, sleeping in a weird position in the armchair in front of his bed.

Seungcheol, who was usually a light sleeper, had no idea that you came into his room a couple of times during the night until you finally convinced yourself that it was okay for you to sleep in there because you were too afraid that we would throw up during the night; he had no idea that you got up in the middle of the night to pull the duvet over his body.

He knew nothing about those things, yet he felt overwhelmed at the sight of you.

For a second he wanted nothing more than to stay sitting there and just watch you. As creepy as it might be, it was the first time he felt like the two of you were more than just two people who shared the same apartment.

He could only hope that the night before had changed something for you too, because now there was no way he would just let things go back to how they were.

You were worried about Seuncheol. Had been the entire day. You woke up to the sound of the shower running and the sight of his empty bed in front of you. You left as soon as you woke up, deciding that he was probably way too hungover to want to talk to you then.

So instead of staying at home, wondering when it would be a good time talk to talk to him, you went out. There was nothing for you to do, no place to go and Yeda already had plans with her boyfriend so she couldn’t meet you.

You indulged yourself, going to the mall and getting a few new brushes and paint — not that you needed anything, but a mind filled with weird thoughts and a credit card with more limit than necessary could be the ruin of someone. But going there was somewhat of a bad idea, considering how many couples there were around.

All of them looked in love, happy to be around each other. You couldn’t help but wonder if it could be the same for you and Seungcheol. If you had talked to him in the months leading up to the wedding, would things be different now? If he hadn’t been a complete idiot on your wedding day, would things be different?

There were many answers to those questions, but none of them would matter. There was no way to go back to the past, to redo things. So all you had was the present, as it was, and a chance to change everything.

On your wedding day, your dad told you that he didn’t love your mother when they got married. He said that the love he felt for her was built over the years they stayed together. And you wanted to try that.

Because you never really believe in love at first sight, the idea of it was just too irrational for you. You believed that curiosity, attraction, lust, and enchantment could all be feelings that are awoken in someone at first sight. But love? That was a complicated feeling, that no three seconds look ever give you.

Because you wanted a love that was constantly warm. Too hot or too cold would burn you all the same. You didn’t want a relationship that was all over the place, with too many ups and downs.

And maybe, Seungcheol could that someone for you.

You had been standing in front of Seungcheol’s room for the past five minutes, building up the courage no knock on his door, had already raised your hand twice but was yet to finally do it. Seungcheol’s drunker words mirrored your thoughts, so you had to talk to him.

You took a deep breath before you forced your fingers to tap lightly against his door. You didn’t wait for his answer and stuck your head inside.

He was sitting on his bed, a book open over his chest while he scrolled through his phone. That was a scene you had seen many times while you were a teenager. It was easy to remember an 18-year-old Seungcheol lying on the couch, in that exact position.

“Seungcheol?” he looked at you surprised, he hadn’t heard you knock on his door “Come out, let’s have dinner”.

Without a word, Seungcheol followed you to the kitchen. His surprised eyes were focused on the food on the table. He clearly remembered you telling him that you didn’t cook, your mom said the same thing too.

“You cooked?” he sounded a little nervous, as if unsure that he should be asking.

He looked cute, you decided then. There was this childish look in his eyes, half in wonder, half in expectancy.

Seungcheol was waiting for something to go wrong again. The last time you had gotten him dinner was the night everything went to shit. What if this time you told him that you wanted a divorce because of the shit he pulled the night before? He was honestly ready to beg you not to do that.

“No, I got it on the way home” you waved a hand and he laughed and you felt your cheeks get warm “Are you feeling better? I left before we could talk”

He smiled and nodded at you, looking at the food in front of him. There was nothing special about it, it was something that he could have cooked, but still, his heart did a little flip inside his chest.

“I’m sorry about last night. I swear I don’t drink like that all the time. Or at all” his own cheeks got hot “I’m sorry you had to clean up after me”

“It’s fine, really. Yeda was my roommate in college and I wish she would throw up in a vase. I think I cleaned that dorm more than anyone else that used it before or after us”

Yeda was a good friend, but she took the idea of being the life of the party a little too far sometimes. That alone was the reason you found yourself going back to your parents' house almost every weekend. You had convinced yourself that the two-hour drive was worth it, if it meant that you didn’t have to clean vomit again.

The two of you eat in silence as you tried to find a good way to start a conversation with him. Why was it so hard? You had no trouble talking with him when you were teenagers. Sure, there was a lot of bickering but that was still better than nothing at all.

“Is everything okay with you? You’re not eating” he said quietly. the food in front of him was almost gone while yours had barely been touched “You don’t like the food?”

You shook your head and set down your fork.

“I’m a little nervous, so it’s hard to eat” he didn’t need to ask to know what you were nervous about “Can we talk, please?”

In silence, the two of you put the dishes away and the food leftovers on the fridge. There was no way either of you would keep eating so it was better not to waste any time.

Seungcheol’s mind was running a thousand miles an hour. He was certain, 100%, that would you ask for a divorce. He knew that you couldn’t do it. The rational part of his brain told him that it wasn’t an option at all. But the irrational side? It didn’t care. All the worse possible scenarios were playing in his mind.

The first one, as he expected, would be for you to ask for a divorce; the second one would be you telling him that there was someone in your life, someone you were in love with.

That thought alone was enough to make his heart ache. You being in love with someone else was too much for him.

“Oh my god! Will you stop looking at me like that? I'm not going to bite your head off! I want to talk with my husband. Millions of people do that every day. I'm sure millions of people are probably doing that right now”

He smiled then. That was exactly how remembered you, that was the you he wanted to see the most on your wedding day, when he talked shit and you talked right back at him. Because there was no way that he would get to have the last word in a conversation like that.

And it was also the first time you addressed him as your husband, at least in front of him. The first time you said it out loud.

But in that moment you confused his feelings for fear when all that he felt was some sort of joy. How borderline pathetic was it that he felt happy over the simple fact that his wife acknowledged his existence?

“The things you said last night… I agree with them. Our marriage won't last very long, we won't last very long, if we continue this way. We will be broken beyond repair if we don't do something right now. So we have to change, we have to, at the very least, be friends but we will never get there if we keep going this way”

That wasn't exactly what you wanted to say but you hoped that Seungcheol would understand, wished that he would read into your sloppy and messy words. He was a lawyer, after all, it was what he did for a living. Right?

“Let's go out once a week then, sort of like a date? But not really” you shook your hand and covered your face, you felt like a teenager asking the guy you had a crush on a date “Just so we can get used to each other again, be friends and all that”

Seungcheol pressed his lips, trying his best to suppress the smiles that threatened to take over his entire face. With a short nod and shake of hands, you and Seungcheol settled down on another agreement.

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