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ramblingthoughtsofayoungadult · 6 months

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All Press Is Good Press

A/N: This is part 2 to Bad PR. It feels like it took me way too long to write but I hope you enjoy it. Also, it's written with a black reader in mind and all credit goes to the original creators of the series and gifs.

Warnings: Some swearing, sensuality, and I was sick when I wrote this.

Word count: 9.3k

“Run!” I shouted, shoving Marie behind me as Luke slowly approached us.

My heart rate had slowed down dangerously, and I could hear my blood pulsing in my ears. Before I knew it, Luke’s body was ablaze and we flew at each other. At the last second, I set off my ability to block him from burning me and grabbed his shoulders.

“Luke, breathe, it’s me, Y/N!” I pleaded.

Luke’s eyes were both angry and hollow. “You were a part of this, you knew about this.”

“I don’t know what you’re talking about but, if you extinguish yourself, we can talk about it,” I tried.

“I’m sorry, Y/N.”

He yelled as the fire around him increased and I felt my ability pushing against my skin as if it would rip itself out of me. But, I was desperate to put out his flames. I’d done it before and I could do it, had to do it again. The wind whirled around us and from the corner of my eye, I could see papers, fire, and other objects flying around us. Suddenly, the air around me felt hotter and something dark in Luke’s eyes flashed.

I screamed as we flew several yards and he shoved me into the hard floor. Suddenly, the air stopped moving around me and I felt like I was suffocating under the heat. Luke kneeled above me and slowly wrapped his hand around my throat.

“Luke…please…stop,” I begged, his hand warming with each word.

I wanted to scream as he seared my neck but as soon as it started, it was over. Luke was suddenly off me and Jordan was standing in front of me in their masculine form.

“Y/N, get out of here!” they yelled.

“ I can’t believe you did that!” they seethed at me, moving as quickly as possible through the Crimefighting building hallway.

It was the day after the joint interview with Marie and I hadn’t been able to sleep the night before. I knew Jordan would be furious since I told them that I would get Marie to recant everything.

“Jordan, I’m sorry, I can explain.”

At that, they stopped and whirled around to face me, fury in their eyes. “Okay, explain. Explain how you and that freshman decided to royally screw me over and keep me at Number Five.”

“It’s not that simple, Marie has way more going on and she’s not trying to hurt anyone.”

“And what about you? You were already Number Three and then you play along to kick me out of the number two spot?” They laughed humorlessly. “And the fact that they had you in white, making you look like a saint and show off the burn scar and the cast to highlight your sacrifice, genius.”

The more they spoke, the more I wanted to cry. “I know it’s messed up and I know that this has made things difficult for you, but I can fix it, I promise.”

“Like Liza would let you.”

“I don’t have to do everything she tells me.”

“But you do everything she tells you. You say what she wants you to say, you post what she wants you to post, you wear what she wants you to wear, and you date who she wants you to date.”

“You’re the one who broke up with me, remember? You’re the one who said you wanted me to focus on my career, right, well, that’s what’s a part of it.” I adjusted my bag on my shoulder. “Just forget I said anything, I won’t bother you again.”

“Y/N…”

“Y/N, over here!”

I flinched at the blinding camera lights but managed to smile, hand on my hip as I tried to reach all the best angles. The past couple of weeks had been a blur of flashing cameras, interviews, and tragedy. For some reason, school officials thought the best way to acknowledge all that was with a fundraising gala slash memorial for Brink.

All the photographers were yelling different instructions and Liza hovered a few feet behind me, muttering notes. Turn my head this way, squint a little, laugh a little It was eerily easy to smile for pictures, laugh when Andre messed up a TikTok challenge, and joke with some people on campus. For once, all the noise was nice, it was like a shield from anything bad. Then, when I was alone in my room, the thoughts came in.

You’re a fraud. You should’ve partnered with Marie to give Jordan the credit during that interview. You weren’t strong enough to beat Luke, you never were. You’re weak and spineless. What did Jordan ever see in you? Sometimes tears came, sometimes they didn’t. It was probably a good thing that I was forced into attending this event.

Liza had insisted I attend the gala that night, arguing that it would be bad publicity if one of Brink’s top students did not attend. Plus, it would not give the public a chance to see Andre and me interacting in a formal setting.

After a couple of more pictures, I gestured to my parents, who were standing by Liza, to join me. They hesitated but Liza shooed them in my direction and they flanked me. When I took a second to look at them, they both looked so happy, not the kind of happy that I feigned but, true happiness.

“You make this look easy sweetheart,” Dad chuckled.

I sighed. “It’s all practice, Dad.”

“Mr. Y/L/N, how do you feel about Y/N being a Guardian of Godolkin?” a reporter shouted.

“Couldn’t be prouder of my little girl!” He called back.

“She’s always been a hero and this is just another time she’s proved it!” Mom added, squeezing my side.

I smiled sheepishly, the urge to tell the truth about that day bubbling in the back of my throat. Instead, I said, “It was nothing, I was trying to protect Marie and she didn’t really need my help.”

Then, the crowd started to roar, and I glanced down the red carpet to see Andre and Polarity approaching us. They both had wide PR-approved smiles on as they posed together. When they reached us, Polarity shook hands with Dad, hugged Mom, and kissed my cheek.

“It’s great to see you again,” he whispered before pulling away.

“You too, Mr. Anderson,” I replied.

Liza quickly coordinated our parents to move further up the red carpet and instructed Andre to stand on my right. “Her left is her best side.”

He slowly wrapped his arm around my shoulders and I tried to relax my shoulders as the camera flashes continued. I couldn’t have been more grateful to Liza for not making us match. Instead, Andre’s light blue suit and my metallic silver halter gown were complimentary.

“Andre, over here!”

“They look great together!”

“Andre, give her a kiss!”

Andre laughed. “Not into PDA!” he called.

“And we’re here as friends,” I added with a smile.

Fortunately, Andre and I never had to do anything too intimate to garner attention. A few social media posts here and there and suddenly, we had the public filling in the dots that Vought wanted them to.

After what felt like an eternity, Liza hurried us into the venue. The lighting was nice, not too bright nor too dark. Servers looped the area with flutes of champagne bubbling on top of their trays. A few alumni and upper-crust students were already mingling, all dressed in tuxes and gowns.

“You two did perfectly, social media is going crazy about this,” Liza reported without looking up from either of her phones.

“It’s not hard with a face like this,” Andre joked as he stroked his jaw.

I laughed. “Please, I’m literally outshining you right now.”

“I must say, you two do make a good couple,” Polarity commented.

I smiled tightly. “Thanks.”

“Now, don’t forget, we need you to get at least five shots together interacting with other attendees. Make it look natural, we don’t want to ruin the illusion,” Liza instructed.

“Illusion is the right word,” I muttered.

Liza arched an eyebrow at me and I stared back at her, offering a fake smile with a tilt of my head. “Watch the attitude, Y/N.”

“Don’t worry, I’ll be delightful and charming to everyone I encounter,” I said.

For a second, I glanced at Mom and thought I saw something flash across her eyes. Before I could address it, Andre gently pulled me further into the party.

Schmoozing was an incredibly easy task. All one needed to do was smile, repeat the last thing the other person said as a question, and thank them for coming to the event. Andre and I spoke with around ten people, ensuring pictures were taken before we were left alone.

“Nice job, partner,” Andre teased.

“Back at ya,” I said, leaning on the table closest to us. “How long do we have to keep this up?”

“An hour but, this,” Andre snagged a couple of champagne flutes from a passing server, “should make it go quicker.” I smiled as I accepted the glass. “Thank you, but I meant this.” I gestured between the two of us.

“What? Is there already trouble in the water?”

“Please, Andre, I know I’m not your type. I’m not white nor am I taken.”

Andre almost choked on his champagne and wiped his face. “What the hell are you talking about? “

I rolled my eyes. “Cate’s my best friend, she tells me everything. But going after your best friend’s girlfriend, that’s pretty low.”

“It’s complicated,” Andre muttered.

I shrugged and downed the champagne. “How about we give it another couple of weeks and then you and Cate can go official and you won’t have to deal with fake cheating rumors?”

“Y/N, I know this is a bad situation for both of us but, we’ve got to play it right.”

Play it right, that’s all anyone was ever interested in. Finding the best angle or the best spin on things. It made me sick to my stomach knowing that all this had taken up the past five years of my life.

“Don’t worry, I won’t use this as leverage to make you look bad,” I assured, setting my empty glass on a passing server’s tray.

Andre opened his mouth to say something but cut himself off. “Sorry, I got to run to the bathroom. See you later?”

“Sure.”

As soon as he left, Dean Shetty and Marie appeared at my table.

“Y/N, you are a star tonight,” Dean Shetty complimented, giving me a quick hug.

Dean Shetty had been incredibly attentive in the last couple of weeks. Since the Luke incident, she insisted we had weekly check-ins and when I mentioned my sleeping issues, she gave me a prescription.

“We can’t have one of our Guardians of Godolkin losing any sleep,” she’d said.

With everything going on, it was nice to have someone as stable as Dean Shetty in my ear and in my corner. In our check ins, she truly listened to me and helped me make sense of the mess in my head.

“Thank you, Dean, you don’t look too bad yourself,” I replied.

“Y/N, wow,” Marie greeted.

I smiled and gave her a side hug. “I could say the same to you.”

She truly did look stunning in her floor-length red corset dress, her twists pulled away from her face. Her shoulders slumped slightly as she picked up the skirt to stand next to Dean Shetty.

A server paused at our table. “More champagne?”

I thanked her as I plucked another flute off the tray and started sipping.

“You should be proud of Marie, Y/N, she’s done wonderfully tonight with our donors,” Dean Shetty said, squeezing Marie’s hand.

The freshman smiled sheepishly. “I listened to Dean Shetty’s advice.”

“You’re a quick learner and humble, that’s good,” I said, pointing at her.

“I must also say that I am grateful that you joined us tonight. It would not have been the same without both of our Guardians of Godolkin,” Dean Shetty commented.

No matter how much time passed, the name still made me cringe. Out of the corner of my eye, I saw Marie scratch the back of her neck and stare down at the table.

“Of course. Professor Brink was a large influence on my life and I’m glad that I was able to be here, honor his memory, and hopefully get more money for the school,” I replied.

Dean Shetty seemed pleased and grabbed her clutch. “Now, if you would excuse me, I have a few other alumni to schmooze.

As soon as she walked away, Marie slid closer to me. “How are you holding up?”

“Great.” I downed the last of my champagne and used a breeze to slip another flute from a passing server’s tray into my hand.

“Not to be a prude but, shouldn’t you slow down?” Marie asked.

I smirked at her. “Don’t worry, Marie, I know my limits. This isn’t enough to get me to trip in my heels but hey, more people in your favor.”

Marie sighed. “I’m sorry about you getting dragged into all this. This is never what I wanted.”

“You didn’t drag me into anything; I knew what I was doing when I went along with the story,” I assured her. “Besides, you came to GOD U to be a hero, and you can’t be a hero without attention.”

“But this wasn’t my plan. I was supposed to keep my head down and survive,” Marie argued.

“Well, things rarely go to plan and your success has been fast-tracked, congratulations,” I muttered.

“What’s going on? You seem a lot different since the last time we talked,” Marie commented.

I swirled my glass. “Marie, I’m going to give you some advice, if you want to be a hero, you have to make sacrifices.” “That’s something Brink wrote,” Marie thought out loud.

“And he was right, but he left out the part where you don’t get to decide what to sacrifice. He also forgot to mention how you are a commodity and these people…these people who tell you that you are perfect and special turn around and say that there’s this one thing holding you back. You can keep this one thing but, you lose the money, the reputation, the followers, and the fans, and a hero is nothing without any of that,” I confessed.

“But, you have a choice,” Marie countered.

No, I didn’t, no one did. But Marie would learn that eventually, and maybe we could sit down one day and compare notes. I laughed humorlessly at the thought and sipped more champagne.

When would this night end?

“Excuse me, are you Marie Moreau?” Mom asked, sidling next to me.

Marie nodded. “Yes, I am.”

“I must say it is a pleasure to meet you. I am Mrs. Y/L/N,” she greeted, extending a hand to Marie.

“It’s nice to meet you,” Marie replied, shaking her hand.

“Has Y/N been showing you the ropes of all this?” Mom asked, gesturing around us.

“Yes, Y/N has been great with everything. I’m learning a lot from her,” Marie stated.

I straightened up slowly and started drawing patterns on the tablecloth. “She’ll be Vought’s new favorite before we know it.”

Marie flinched and her eyes widened while Mom looked at me as though I said there was a headless chicken doing laps outside. Honestly, I did not mean to be so surly but the words just slipped out.

“Kidding,” I sang, downing the last of my champagne.

“Do you mind if I borrow my daughter for a moment?” Mom asked.

“Of course not.”

Mom slowly guided me away from the table, taking a moment to pause and smile at the cameras as we made our way through the space. Her grip on my arm was firm----the way it tended to be whenever she was upset with something I did. When we were out of earshot from enough people, she turned to me.

“Y/N, what is going on with you?” she asked.

“Nothing, I’m having a great night. I’m wearing Laquan Smith, I’m drinking expensive champagne, everyone’s happy and smiling tonight; what else could I want?” I argued.

“Do not lie to me, Y/N. You’ve looked miserable all night and I can’t stand it. Now tell me, you can tell me anything, honey, you know that.”

Before Vought noticed me, it was relaxing to talk to my mom about everything: school, stress, crushes, and the future. Now, it felt like if I was not super positive, I would add a burden to her and Dad. They were doing so well now, and I was not going to mess that up. I could handle this, I’ve always been able to handle this.

Then, when I looked back up at her, there was so much warmth and concern in her aging mahogany eyes. There was the slightest hint of a frown on her forehead and I suddenly felt this strange invisible weight lift from my shoulders.

“I messed up so bad, Mom,” I whispered.

“What do you mean, sweetheart?”

“I messed up with everything. I’m barely hanging on in all my classes, my footwork is sloppy in training, and I totally screwed over Jordan, and they didn’t do anything to deserve it,” I rambled.

Mom gently moved her hands to grasp my shoulders and pulled me into a hug. Tears burned my eyes but they wouldn’t fall as I embraced her warmth and the scent of peonies and lilac. She ran her hand over my head and hummed.

“Nothing you said is anything you can’t fix,” she stated.

I slowly pulled away and looked up at her. “What?”

Mom sighed. “This is not the first time you have met a setback, Y/N. You’ve had plenty of them, from racist classmates to adjusting when Dad lost his job. You can improve your grades and work on your skills.”

At her words, I nodded, wondering if I would know exactly what to say at that age.

“What about Jordan?”

“I know they make you happy and you would light up in their presence. So, I don’t think you two can’t make up,” Mom admitted.

I rolled my eyes. “But what about Liza? If I go against her, I’ll lose all the backing and…and you and Dad will----”

Mom held up a hand. “First of all, never roll your eyes at me. Second, your father and I will be fine. Our mortgage is paid, we both work now, and we’ll do just fine. Have you been worried about us all this time?”

I nodded. “I know you really struggled before the Compound V took and I didn’t want to ruin anything for you two. You’ve been so happy, and I didn’t want to disappoint you.”

“Y/N, you could never disappoint us. You have been so, so amazing your entire life. We’ve been so happy because we are just that proud of you and we know you’ll do amazing things,” Mom insisted. “Your happiness is important too, don’t ever forget that.”

On instinct, I hugged her so tightly that I thought I would crush her. But, she patted my back to let me know that she was okay. Her laugh made me laugh and I felt like an idiot when I couldn’t stop laughing even when I pulled away.

“But who says Jordan would take me back? They broke up with me and I played along with Vought and that must have hurt them.”

“Try not to overthink it. Come on, their memorial video is about to start.”

As the video played, I could barely focus on not looking at Jordan. They were sitting at a table with their parents across the room. Both were whispering animatedly to a suit while Jordan sat across from them, looking like they wanted to cry. Jordan rarely cried, not even when they dislocated their shoulder during a sparring match sophomore year. Their parents were always a difficult topic, and I was stunned when Jordan brought me to meet them during a parent's weekend.

“Just try not to make any reference to my other form,” they’d insisted.

“Okay, I won’t,” I’d replied.

The Lis were nice enough but, they always referred to Jordan as “their son” or “my boy” or “he”. It made me nauseous just thinking about it and how many breakdowns they’d had about their parents not accepting them. I wanted to hug them or distract them with top-shelf liquor. Then, Jordan looked up at me and I knew exactly how deer felt in the headlights.

My heart ached as I slowly turned away just in time to see a picture of myself and Brink flash across the screen. It was from sophomore year after I helped solve an ongoing serial robbery case. Jordan had helped me with that but insisted I did most of the heavy lifting.

Finally, the video ended and I snatched another champagne flute from a passing server as Dean Shetty returned to the podium amidst the applause.

“Professor Brink always had an eye for outstanding students, and I know that he would want all of you to continue your generosity to foster their talent. There are a couple of students I would like to highlight tonight,” she stated.

Liza leaned over the table. “Remember, shoulders back, head up like a princess.”

“Uh-huh,” I muttered.

“And where is Andre? This would be a great photo op!” she hissed.

“I don’t know.”

“First is Marie Moreau, a freshman who has become an asset to our community as a Guardian of Godolkin, showcasing such courage and wit in the face of adversity.” Dean Shetty gestured to the left of the stage, where Marie stood and smiled at the applause. “Second is a name I know you are all very familiar with. Y/N Y/L/N has created a positive whirlwind before she stepped foot on our campus. She has used this whirlwind not only to inspire other young people to dedicate their time to philanthropy and their studies, but to assist Marie in protecting our campus.”

The spotlight was harsh, but I took Liza’s advice and posed the best I could. I desperately wanted to look at Jordan, to tell them I did not want any of this, that I wanted them to have the credit, but I endured the second round of applause. When the applause ended and the spotlight went away, I grabbed my champagne.

“Not bad, but your smile didn’t reach your eyes,” Liza noted.

“I’ll work on it.”

The bubbles tickled the back of my throat and I looked over at Jordan again. They were looking down at their hands as their parents continued speaking with a different suit. For a split second, I wished that I could switch powers with Cate and have an idea of what they were thinking.

“…and don’t forget to schmooze some other donors. Did you get pictures with Marie?” Liza droned.

“I think Y/N has done enough schmoozing for tonight, Liza,” Dad interrupted.

“Excuse me, Mr. Y/L/N, but my job is to make sure that your daughter is seen is the best possible light at all times and---”

“Would you all excuse me?” I asked, standing.

Without waiting for a reply, I made my way across the room, ignoring some other kids who asked for pictures or donors who kept eyeing my backside. Once I was at the Lis table, I froze. I hadn’t prepared anything and my head was totally empty.

This was bad.

Just when I was about to sprint back to my chair, Mrs. Li noticed me.

“Oh, Y/N, it’s so good to see you!” Mrs. Li exclaimed.

Thankfully, my PR training kicked in.

“Good evening, Mrs. Li. How are you?” I replied.

She stood and hugged me for a few seconds “Oh, you look beautiful. Doesn’t she look beautiful, honey?” She turned to Mr. Li.

“Yes, my boy knows how to pick ‘em,” Mr. Li said with a grin.

I blinked back the shock of my words and smiled slowly. “Thank you. I didn’t mean to interrupt.”

“No, we were done,” Mrs. Li insisted.

Suit Guy nodded and excused himself while Mrs. Li gently pulled me down to sit next to her. Jordan stared at me the same way they did when I disagreed with them on a floor plan on Property Brothers. Honestly, I couldn’t blame them.

“Y/N, I must say, I was so sad when Jordan told us you broke up,” Mrs. Li admitted.

That made two of us.

“And it was so unexpected. You two were inseparable,” Mr. Li added.

I nodded. “Yeah, well, things change.” I took a long swig of my champagne.

“And where are your parents tonight, Y/N?” Mr. Li asked.

“They’re here. I think they’ve been talking Polarity’s ear off,” I replied.

That wasn’t too much of a lie. Dad was happy taking pictures with him on the red carpet and Mom thought that he was okay.

Mr. Li let out a low whistle. “Impressive. You and Andre do make a nice couple, no offense, Jordan.”

“None taken, Dad,” they scoffed.

I hesitated for a second. “We’re just friends…Andre and me, we’re just friends. We’ve just been hanging out a lot more lately.”

For a second, I hoped Jordan listened to me but I couldn’t tell as their eyes wandered away from their parents and me. This was a mistake, such a stupid mistake. I had to get out of there, someway, somehow.

Mr. Li raised his eyebrows. “My son may still have a chance?”

I smiled as mysteriously as I could muster before downing the rest of my champagne. It did nothing to blot out the embarrassment rising from my neck and over my ears. Mrs. Li gently grabbed my uninjured hand in hers.

“You’ve been so brave with all this, Y/N. Fighting Luke must have been terrifying. Oh, I couldn’t imagine!” she exclaimed.

No, she couldn’t imagine seeing those glowing eyes every time she blinked nor tensing every time she had to go past Brink’s office to get to the super nice bathroom in the Crimefighting building. She couldn’t possibly imagine all the stupid questions she would get asked or the strange itching pain the burn around her neck caused.

“It was,” I whispered, glancing at Jordan.

They finally looked at me but this time, I was thankful they didn’t have laser vision. I quickly set aside my empty glass and turned back to Mrs. Li.

“But you survived and sacrificed so much,” she added.

“You could say that again,” I replied.

“That’s Y/N, always sacrificing herself for someone else,” Jordan seethed.

It was awful being on Jordan’s bad side and I was doing nothing but exacerbating the situation. There had to be some escape route that I could take. Someone I knew had to come by or someone could maybe ask for a picture.

“Jordan, don’t be rude,” Mr. Li admonished. “I thought I raised my boy better than that.”

There was something about Mr. Li’s tone that made my stomach lurch. Or maybe it was the distressed way Jordan looked away and was suddenly fascinated with the fairy lights that hung on the walls. All I knew was that I was slowly pulling away from Mrs. Li and straightening up.

“Did Jordan ever tell you how we first met?” I asked.

“No, never,” Mr. Li said, glancing at Jordan.

“It was freshman year during the mid-terms. I was slammed with so many assignments that I thought I was going to drown but before that, I would bomb all my classes, especially Brink’s. One night, I was in the library having a total meltdown because none of my index cards made any sense and there were only two days left until the exam.” I paused. “In the middle of my snot and tears, Jordan finds me surrounded by my notecards and books, picks up one of my notecards, and says, ‘I’d be crying too if I was studying something that wasn’t going to be on the exam’. Then, they sat down with me and helped me study. Totally saved my butt freshman year.”

I left out the part about how they were in their feminine form and rolled their eyes every time I sniffled. But Mr. and Mrs. Li looked surprised but pleased at the same time.

“I had no idea,” Mrs. Li said.

“Yeah, Jordan’s always looking out for the people they care about, even if they won’t admit it.” I glanced at Jordan. “They deserve to be Number One in the Top Five and I hope that one day, I can be half the hero I know they will be. So, yes, Mr. Li, you raised a great child who will be a great person and I am happy to know them.”

Though I could feel Jordan’s eyes on me, I quietly excused myself and slowly walked away. The lights and noise began to blur in front of me. Soon, I felt the tear slip down my cheek and hurried into the bathroom before anyone else could see.

I immediately walked up to the sink and placed my hands on the counter. “Breathe, Y/N, breathe,” I said in choked breaths.

It was a difficult fete since the tears started falling as soon as the door closed behind me. I didn’t know why I was crying, I thought I did something positive. Maybe I was crying because I screwed up or I said too much to Marie. Maybe I was crying because I hadn’t cried since the night Jordan broke up with me. Their words tore a piece out of my chest, and I thought that I wouldn’t be able to get back. Maybe I never would.

The bathroom door suddenly flew open, and I screamed, “GET OUT!” Sending a blast of wind with my bad hand.

A loud bang and bright light followed, extinguishing the wind without incident. My eyes flew open, and I turned to find Jordan, in their feminine form leaning against the wall. They seemed unimpressed and angry.

“Careful, don’t want you causing damage to another building,” they deadpanned.

I swallowed and started wiping my tears. “Why are you in here?”

“To ask you what the hell was that back there? You just bulldoze in our conversation and say…that?” Jordan said.

“I’m sorry, I guess I’m tipsier than I thought,” I muttered.

“No, this isn’t you tipsy,” Jordan argued.

“Fine, I got upset when your dad kept calling you ‘son’ and ‘boy’ and it just came out, okay?” I snapped. “I’m sorry I butt into your family stuff, it won’t happen again. We can go back to ignoring each other.”

Jordan scoffed and walked closer to me. “You mean, you can go back to ignoring me?”

Were they really arguing with me about ignoring each other? They had been ignoring me this whole time as well. No in-person conversations, no texts, no calls, not even social media interactions.

“I’m not going to argue with you about this,” I said, my voice hoarse.

“Look, I’m not going to pretend like after two weeks of nothing, it’s not insane that you would do that,” they continued

“Okay, so I tried to do a nice thing for you and screwed it up, I’m sorry.”

“I don’t want your apology.”

“Then what do you want?” I glared at them. “I tried to fix the Luke and Brink mess but that backfired. Then, I tried to stand up for you in front of your parents, but I screwed that up too. Every time I try to do something nice for you, I end up hurting you instead and I’m tired of it. I don’t like hurting you and if we have to stay away from each other than fine.”

Jordan was quiet for a long time and during that time, their eyes never left mine. They always had such a cutting gaze, like they could see through everyone and everything. Sometimes, I would be curious and terrified at what they would find if they stared at me long enough.

“You didn’t hurt me tonight,” they whispered. “I just don’t understand why you did it.”

I sighed. “Because I still care about you. It’s stupid, right? You broke my heart and I still care about you.”

“Y/N…”

I sniffled and turned away from them. “I should get cleaned up before heading back out there. I must look like a mess.”

For a moment, the only sounds I heard were my sniffling and rifling for the paper towels to fix my makeup. As I dabbed the makeup Jordan whispered, “You never look like a mess.”

The next time I spoke to Jordan was the day Tek Knight guest-lectured our class. The tall, slimy idiot made the side of my mouth twitch with each word he spoke. His show was ridiculous but maybe that was due to all the editing to make him seem normal. He spoke so grandiosely, and I wondered how Cate, Andre, and Jordan dealt with being interviewed by him.

“I can’t stand this guy,” Marie whispered.

“You and me both,” I muttered.

“…and, as all you know,” Tek continued, “I am a master at interrogation and I would love to take this moment to show you proper technique. Now, I’ll need a volunteer.” Fortunately, no one raised their hands and I went back to skimming some old class notes. Hopefully class would go by quickly, Dean Shetty couldn’t let this man prattle on the whole time, right?

“Cyclone, one of our Guardians of Godolkin. Surely, you wouldn’t mind? It could make up for our missed interview,” Tek said with a slight edge to his voice.

“You can call me Y/N and, fine.” I stood, straightened my blazer that I wore with a houndstooth mini skirt, and strolled down to the seat at the front of the class.

All that was missing was a blinding light and a seedy interrogation room. I folded my hands in my lap and relaxed into the chair. This would be fine, nothing at all. I glanced at my classmates, offering Marie a small smile and locking eyes with Jordan for a second. I could get through this, Tek Knight was nothing.

“Miss Y/L/N, I appreciate your participation,” Tek began. “Why don’t we start by going over the events of your friend, Luke’s, death?”

I swallowed. “I have relayed the story many times, Mr. Knight, unless you didn’t see any of my interviews.”

That earned a small laugh throughout the class and Tek’s jaw clenched but he smiled.

“No, I can’t say that I have, I was too busy investigating the details of his death. So, humor me, please,” Tek requested. “What was that day like?”

Easy.

“It was a normal day. I had a morning class on forensics and then I had lunch with Cate. After lunch, I did some homework and I decided to go see Professor Brink about an assignment,” I said.

That day, I did not need to talk to Brink but I had told the lie so much that no one would second guess it.

“Your pupils just dilated, you’re lying,” Tek said in delight.

I rolled my eyes. “I’ve told the story fifty times, I think I remember it correctly.” “Ah, notice class just how defensive she got,” Tek instructed. “Why were you really there?”

I paused again, my eyes glancing at Jordan. Their expression was unreadable but their jaw clenched for a moment. That day, I went to see Jordan and apologize for everything that happened with Liza since we had not spoken when we all went out the night before. However, Jordan was particularly icy about it and I ended up running into a frantic Marie.

A chill ran up my spine at the memory and I turned my attention back to Tek. He was waiting with bated breath and I wondered how much he got off on these.

“I wanted to talk to Brink about an assignment,” I repeated.

“Tell that to the sweat on your forehead but we’ll circle back to that. What happened when you got to his office?”

“When I walked into the building, I saw Marie was in front of his office.”

“And you didn’t think that was strange since she was a freshman?”

I shook my head. “No, she was a fan of Brink’s work so it made sense that she would try to talk to him.”

“Was anyone else there?”

Yes.

“No.”

“Another lie. Who else was there, Y/N?”

“Marie, Marie was the only person there.” I willed myself to calm down.

Tek faced the class. “Notice, class, that Y/N is rubbing her hand on her forearm, a classic self-soothing gesture. We are one step closer to the truth!” Then, he whirled back around to me. “Who else was there, Y/N?”

“Marie. I didn’t see anyone else.” Tek shook a finger at me. “Oh, you’re a tough one, Y/N, and those are my favorites to break.”

I huffed and glanced at Dean Shetty, who offered me a pity look. “Do you have any other questions?”

“Plenty. What happened when you got to Brink’s office?”

“Well, Marie was nervous to talk to Brink so I knocked on the door. There was no answer, and I opened it and I saw Luke burning him alive,” I said quietly.

“The downcast eyes and lower tone suggest that not only is Miss Y/L/N telling the truth but there is emotional weight to it.” Tek gestured to me. “Please, continue.”

“When Luke saw us, something was off with his eyes. He was…infuriated and he looked hurt.”

“What did he say to you?”

“He said that we shouldn’t have seen that and now we had to die.”

“That must have been painful and scary, you had been friends for two years, correct?” Tek asked.

“Yeah, around the time he and Cate started dating,” I confirmed.

“What happened next?”

“I told Marie to run and I tried to hold him off. We got into a pretty intense physical fight and I was able to extinguish his flames long enough for Marie to do some damage,” I reported.

“We can see that it must have been very difficult with your injuries. What made you think that you could beat him?”

I paused and looked at him. “Excuse me?”

“Well, according to your record, you’ve fought Luke three times, lost twice, and ended in a draw once. To go from that to disarming him is a large leap.”

My heart rate started to pick up and I brushed a loc out of my face to distract myself. I just had to stay calm and answer everything with confidence. Confidence was all anyone needed, Liza preached it enough.

“Yes, Luke was incredibly strong and near-impossible to beat,” I added.

“But you’ve extinguished his flames before? And you still lost? How did that work?”

It was an easy gig when Luke was caught off guard. The most I could ever do when sparring with him was play defense. I could feel the heat of his flames still and the flash in his eyes.

“Just tell them what they want to hear,” Liza’s voice coached in my ear. “No one wants the truth, they want what we tell them.”

But what was the point of that? Why couldn’t Jordan get the credit? What truth would that be hiding? That they’re a good hero? What was the point of me fake-dating Andre? Who were we placating? Why did I have to play to anything?

Slowly, I glanced at Marie and then I glanced at Jordan. Marie looked like she was holding her breath while Jordan was hyper-focused. I wondered if Marie knew how insightful she was or could be.

“It didn’t,” I stated.

Tek smiled like the Cheshire cat and everyone’s expressions around the room shifted from bored focus to interest. My heart was pumping in my ears and my breath was starting to speed up, but I had to keep going.

“What do you mean?”

“I tried to extinguish Luke’s fire that day but it didn’t work. It had worked during one of our sparring sessions but, his guard was lower and I took advantage. The day he died, I panicked,” I reported.

“The Cyclone panicked under pressure?” Tek asked.

“Yes, I was scared. Luke was never malicious in our fights, and I could tell he wanted to kill me. Plus, I had to protect Marie but, I ended up making things worse.” I took another deep breath. “When I tried to extinguish the fire, I exacerbated it and set fire to almost everything around us. Luke tackled me to the ground, and I landed wrong, which is how I broke my wrist.”

“That is a harrowing story, Miss Y/L/N. What happened to Marie?”

I looked apologetically at her. “She ran and I didn’t see where she went. For a minute, I thought I accidentally got her burned too.” My eyes went back to Tek.

“And how did you escape?” Tek asked.

Here it goes.

“Jordan stepped in and tackled him off me,” I admitted. “Because they’re indestructible in their male form, they weren’t hurt, and they were able to hold him off long enough for me to escape.”

There, it was all out there. I felt lighter than I had in weeks, and I could have cried at the feeling. For a moment, I wondered why it took me so long to just admit the truth.

“I thought you said there was no one else there?” Tek countered.

“I lied.”

“Why lie?”

“Partially to protect and help Marie. This situation was beneficial for her, and I played along to help. But she also doesn’t need this to prove how great she’ll be one day.”

“So, is Jordan part of the reason you were there that day?”

“Yes,” I admitted. “They’re the reason I was at Brink’s.”

“But why?”

“That’s your favorite word,” I scoffed. “I lied to protect myself. I went to Brink’s office to see Jordan to apologize.”

“Apologize for what?”

“To apologize for the position I put them in.” I willed myself not to glance at them because if I did, they might telepathically make me shut up.

Tek walked closer to me and leaned over me a little. “And what position is that?”

“I made them feel like a burden when they weren’t, they never were,” I whispered, eyeing Tek.

Tek nodded. “That’s right, you two were an item.”

“They broke up with me because they thought they were helping me but, they couldn’t have been more wrong. Jordan challenged me and made me think deeper about things.” Tears burned my eyes but I kept pushing. “But the facts are that Jordan protected everyone from Luke, not me and not Marie. You can quote me on that.”

I crossed my arms and noticed I was breathing harder than usual. Was this panic or relief? How could anyone tell the difference?

Tek smiled like the Cheshire cat as he continued to circle me. “Notice how even though she got defensive, she is relaxed. Ladies and gentlemen, we have found the truth!”

Some sporadic applause broke out and Tek leaned over to shake my hand, but I stood, brushed past him, and headed back to my seat. On the way, I could feel everyone’s eyes boring into me but for the first time in a long time, I could not have cared less. Marie was stunned when I grabbed my bag and slung it over my shoulder.

“What was that?” she whispered.

“I’m sorry but you were right, I had a choice,” I whispered back.

Marie hesitated but nodded as I turned and walked out of the class. Finally, the truth was out there, and it would spread like wildfire on Twitter, TikTok, and Instagram. Part of me wondered how long it would take for the news to reach Liza and another part of me wondered how that conversation would go. She would be infuriated and try to work on a counterattack but, I also could not bring myself to care too much. I did care about how my parents would feel once they found out. They had no idea that I lied.

The sun was brighter than usual and the students frantically typing on their laptops or talking on their phones were productive, not overly stressed. There was a sense of calm over campus, and it made for a nice ambiance for my walk back to my dorm. As soon as I walked in, I got a FaceTime call from Cate.

“Okay, what was that with Tek Knight?” she interrogated.

“Wow, those kids work fast,” I commented, setting my bag on my desk.

“Seriously. Did you skip the interview so you could do…that?”

“First of all, I skipped the interview because I had a shoot with Nike that I was contractually obligated to. Second of all, Tek wanted the truth and I gave it to him.”

I flopped down on my bed and propped my phone on my side table so that I could see Cate’s frowning face which was a mixture of shock and pride.

“Well, I know this is super therapist-y of me to ask but how are you feeling?” she asked.

“I feel light. It’s true about the truth setting you free, you know. I feel like I can fly,” I drawled, stretching myself out further on my bed.

“Technically, you can already fly,” Cate teased.

“Not the point, Cate. I didn’t realize how much Vought and Liza caged me in. If this is what they did to me, I can’t imagine what they did to Luke.”

Cate hummed, a solemn expression rolling across her pretty features. “I knew he was under a lot of pressure but…” Cate cut herself off. “Anyway, I am happy that you are feeling better; you can only hold things in for so long before you snap.”

“Like you would let me snap,” I teased.

“Of course. Are you worried about your parents?” Cate asked.

I shrugged. “Only the fact that they had no idea I lied about any of this. I told you how my mom and I had a heart-to-heart at the gala. They want me to be happy and this feels like a good start.”

“I want you happy too. I gotta get back to psych before Professor Banks sends someone looking for me.”

As soon as she clicked off, I put my phone on Do Not Disturb and rolled onto my back. This seemed like a fantastic moment for less noise.

Knock! Knock! Knock!

Or not.

I huffed as I pushed myself off the bed and made my way to the door. “I am not going to do any of those stupid TikTok interviews or----”I stopped when I saw Jordan staring back at me.

“Sorry, I didn’t come by for a statement,” they muttered.

“N-no, it’s fine.” I stepped aside and they quickly brushed past me.

As I closed the door behind me, I willed my heartbeat to slow to a normal rate and wiped my palms on my skirt. Jordan dropped their bag in the middle of the room and whirled around to face me.

“Why did you do that?” they demanded.

“I wanted to tell the truth,” I answered.

Jordan laughed humorlessly and rolled their eyes. “Sure you did. Is this another ploy from Liza that you’re playing along with? I’m wondering how exactly this is going to screw me and make you look better.”

I shook my head and took a couple of steps closer to them. “There’s no ploy! You’ll believe me when the rankings come out.”

“Oh, I’m sure nothing will change except you might be at Number One this time,” they seethed.

“Why are you mad at me? I did what you’ve been asking me to do since this whole thing started.”

“But I didn’t want you to make yourself look bad in the process!” they exclaimed.

As their words sunk in, I had a chance to think. Class was not over for another thirty minutes, and Jordan never skipped class unless they were deathly ill. At the gala, I did not see Jordan or their parents until I approached them. At the time, I thought they were avoiding an awkward conversation----that still happened-----but now, I wondered if they were trying to protect me or themselves from something. When we broke up, they disappeared until that night Cate practically forced me to go out with everyone and even then, we never spoke. I thought they were avoiding me because they were angry but maybe they were hurt. And when they yelled at me to run from Luke, they almost sounded…scared.

What did that mean?

Slowly, I closed the distance between us, swallowing at the tension rising in the room. “I don’t care about rankings or social media engagement right now. If anything happens, I can bounce back but like I said the other night, I care about you and I am tired of hurting you. I know that my lying about what happened with Luke and Brink was messed up and must have caused a different kind of pain and I wanted to make it right.”

“There’s still smarter ways of doing that, Y/N. Did you coordinate with Liza or something? And what about Marie?” Jordan rattled.

“No, I decided on my own and Marie inspired me to do it. I had a choice, and I made the right one,” I argued. “Can you please just enjoy the glory and attention you’ll get from this and stop trying to poke holes in it?”

Jordan shook their head. “No, not when I know there’s an angle to this.”

“You want an angle? Here’s your angle: I love you and I wanted to help you, just like I tried to at the gala. If it lowers my ranking or makes me lose followers, I don’t care!” I announced. “I am sick of spending hours making sure total strangers like me and avoiding mistakes. I can help other black girls outside of being a hero, through charity or promoting positive representations of us in media. So please, for the love of all that is good in the world, just accept what I did and enjoy the benefits!”

It was only when the silence filled the room that I realized what I had said. My face immediately warmed, and I felt kind of nauseous. The fact that we never really said the L-word to each other in a year and a half of dating was ludicrous but, we agreed that we did not have to say it if we felt it from each other. It sounded great at the time but the truth was that saying it out loud made it more real.

Suddenly, my dorm did not feel like the safe space where I could cry, binge-watch Psych, or share a joint with Cate. I suddenly felt like a child again as Jordan stared at me wide-eyed. After a few seconds, they spoke.

“Oh.”

Great, that’s what every girl wants to hear after they confess their feelings to their ex. I ran my hands through my locs and started walking towards the door.

“You can go now. Just try to keep the gloating to a minimum,” I whispered.

Before I could make it to the door, I felt a familiar strong hand grip my good arm and pull me closer. I did not have time to react as Jordan pressed their lips against mine. This kiss was much different than any kiss we’d ever had, well, any kiss that I ever had. There was pain, passion, anger, lust, and tenderness.

They slowly pulled away, barely a millimeter from my face, and I exhaled. “You don’t get to ruin your career for me, say that, and then kick me out of your dorm,” they growled lowly.

A tingle ran up my spine as I leaned forward to kiss them again. It was strange that I had almost forgotten how good they were at this, how much I missed this feeling with them. I felt their hands run up the nape of my neck and pull gently on a couple of locs. I pulled away for a second.

“You didn’t give me a chance to fight for us,” I muttered.

Jordan sighed, trailing their hand from my hair to the back of my shoulders. “I didn’t think…I didn’t think I was worth it.”

“Of course you are, you always were,” I insisted.

Something lit in their eyes and Jordan smiled so widely that I thought they might crack. They gently pulled me in closer for a hug, scratching my back with featherlight touches.

“I’m sorry I broke up with you,” they whispered into my shoulder.

“I’m sorry that I made you think you had to break up with me,” I replied. “Thank you for saving me from Luke, sorry for lying about that again.”

They groaned. “Please stop apologizing for that.”

I laughed. “Okay.”

“Besides,” they stood to their full height, “I didn’t do that great of a job.”

Their eyes zeroed in on my bruised neck and then glided to my injured wrist. It was as though I could sense the doubt rising within them and I grabbed their face.

“Hey, this was my fault, not yours. I’m here in one piece because of you, never forget that, okay?”

“Well, I guess when you put it that way…” They smirked and I swatted their arm with my good hand.

“Seriously, do not get a big head from this,” I instructed.

“No promises,” They teased. “So, what now? I mean, I know you love me and all but where do we go from here?”

“You know how I feel and I’ve done enough heart-opening speeches for one day. But, I would be lying if I said I haven’t thought about getting back with you ever since you broke up with me,” I said.

“Well,” Jordan rocked back on their heels, “I would also be lying if I said that I haven’t thought about getting back with you too and those posts with you and Andre drove me nuts.”

I raised an eyebrow. “You were jealous?”

Jordan looked away from me for a moment. “He was looking at you all weird and flirty.” “It was a fake relationship and you got fooled!” I cheered.

“It didn’t look fake on his end,” Jordan grumbled.

“Aww, is little Jordan feeling a little sad still?” I sang in a baby voice.

“Don’t do that voice, Y/N,” Jordan warned.

“Or what?”

Quickly, Jordan’s hands started tapping on my sides in rapid succession and I could hold the giant laugh down. Somehow, I wriggled out of their grasp and made a run for it. I made it about halfway across the room before they tackled me into my bed, continuing their attack. I laughed so hard that tears were rolling down my face. After a few moments, they stopped, laughing as well and slowly playing with the hem of my shirt.

“Seriously, though, what do we do now?” Jordan asked, slightly out of breath.

I pushed myself up on my elbows. “Well, I’m open to sneaking around to ease us back into things but I’m also open to suggestions.” Jordan’s hands slowly moved to rub my sides. “Then I would suggest that we pick up where we left off, if that’s okay with you.”

I hummed, pretending to think about it, before quickly pecking their lips. “Of course, that’s fine with me!”

“And you’re sure you don’t care what Liza says?”

I nodded. “Can we please stop talking about her? You have a lot of making up to do.”

“Me? You’re the one who chose a freshman over me.”

“She had a compelling story!”

I didn’t see Liza’s frantic missed calls or texts hours after Jordan and I competed to see who could “make up” the best. I didn’t see any of the memes or clips from Tek’s interrogation of me either. I didn’t even see the comments on our Instagram official post. All I knew was that I was at peace for maybe the third time in my life and I was not going to let anything get in the way of it again.

#black!reader #jordan li x reader #jordan li x black!reader

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joelsgreys · 9 months

Text

Lonely Too Long l (To Hell and Back Drabble)

Series Masterlist

Summary: After escaping a group of brutal slavers, you are left with permanent physical and emotional scars. Unwilling to put your trust in another human being ever again, you spend a year fighting for survival alone in the post outbreak world. But when you choose to save the life of a man named Joel Miller, the wall that you’ve built to protect yourself slowly begins to crumble.

Pairing: Joel Miller x Female Reader

Warnings/Tags: 18+ only, minors DNI. Flashback of implied SA, but no descriptions. Soft Joel, Joel sings to reader. *If you happen to be reading the series, I recommend reading this one because it starts setting up Joel and reader’s relationship. This is also the last flashback she’s going to have since it’s a heavier one than the last two.

Word Count: 1.9k

A/N: Dust to Dust is one of my favorite songs by The Civil Wars. I know the song did not come out until like 2013, but we’re just going to pretend. Also, I know that the gif is video game Joel, but god I love him just as much and it fits this scene so we are gonna roll with it. I know this might not be everyone’s cup of tea but I wanted to write it so I did. 🤌🏼 I am still organizing the taglist for this series, it will be start with the next chapter. This was mostly for me but hopefully some people out there enjoy it too. 🤍

You couldn’t scream.

You’re trying to cry out, but you can’t.

Chest tight, your lungs won’t expand.

You couldn’t breathe.

One hand around your neck, the other is fumbling with the zipper of your jeans.

“Been thinking about this all day,” he grinned, his fingers roughly scraping against the skin of your lower stomach.

In the corner, your cellmate is curled into a little ball in the floor, hands covering her ears and her eyes squeezed shut.

She’s probably praying she won’t be next.

She’s seventeen so even in the midst of your own chaos, you can’t help but pray she isn’t next too.

You thrashed around underneath him. It’s futile, but all you can think about is getting him off you.

Grin fading, he let out a heavy, irritated sigh. His hand left the waistband of your jeans. He reached behind him and pulled out his gun, bringing it up to into your view—it caused you to cease any and all movements. “Listen to me,” he said, pressing the barrel of the pistol against your temple. “It’s simple, really. Keep squirming and I’ll blow your fucking brains out. Do you understand, dollface?”

When he received no response, he dug the barrel deeper into your skin, his finger on the trigger.

“Do you understand?” He repeated, his tone low.

Nearly paralyzed, all you could do was nod.

“Good.” He roughly flipped you over.

The sound of his belt buckle clanking rang loudly in your ears. As he yanked your jeans down to the middle of your thighs, you closed your eyes.

Both your mind and your body went numb.

A light, late night rainstorm came out of nowhere, sweeping over the town. The soft, pitter pattering sound of raindrops on the window above your bed had almost lulled you into slumber.

Almost.

You’re safe.

The words blended into a steady but silent chant.

You’re safe.

You’re fucking safe.

Slapping the palm of your hand to your forehead, you exhaled a long, heavy sigh and stared up into the the darkness of the bedroom.

You couldn’t be certain as to what time it was, but it had to be well into the middle of the night. You’d been tossing and turning for a couple of hours but somehow it felt like a hell of a lot longer than that.

You were fucking exhausted. You nearly ached for some sleep, but every damn time that you closed your eyes, vivid images of the past came creeping in and chased it further and further away.

Your brain just couldn’t seem to wrap itself around the fact that this place wasn’t dangerous.

That you didn’t have to sleep with one eye open.

That nobody was going to hurt you.

That you were safe in a soft bed in a real house.

You weren’t lying on a dirty cot in a human cage.

Sighing again, you thought about Joel who was in his bedroom down the hallway, sleeping.

It brought you comfort knowing he was close. But for some reason you couldn’t quite explain, part of you couldn’t help but feel he wasn’t close enough.

You. The same woman who vowed never to trust another human being ever again—you wanted him fucking closer. Actually, it wasn’t a want so much as it was a need.

You needed him to be closer.

Sitting up, you tossed the sheets back and swung your legs over the edge of the mattress, your bare feet meeting the cold, hardwood floors. You stood and quietly padded out of the bedroom and down the hallway towards Joel’s.

“You know where to find me if you need anythin’,” he’d assured you before he had gone off to bed.

You stopped in front of his door and lifted a curled first, knocking lightly. About a minute or two went by, and just when you started to realize that you’d made a mistake and whirled around to make a run for it back to your own room where you could hop back into bed and pretend that the thought of this hadn’t ever even crossed your mind, he opened up his bedroom door.

“Thought I heard a knock,” Joel mumbled sleepily, rubbing at his eyes with one of his hands. He wore nothing but his sweatpants, his hair looking about ten times more disheveled than usual. “Everythin’ alright?”

You swallowed dryly, trying your hardest not to let your eyes wander away from his face—it proved to be almost too difficult to keep from staring. Joel’s shoulders were broad, his chest was wide, and his stomach was soft; his sweatpants hung on the low side on his hips and revealed the trail of dark curls that started at his lower belly and descended until it disappeared underneath the elastic waistband.

You caught yourself before they could go lower.

“Somethin’ the matter, darlin’?” he asked, stifling a yawn. Thankfully he hasn’t seemed to notice you gawking at him. He rubbed at his eyes once again and then observed you, trying to figure out what it was that had brought you to his room at this hour. “You need somethin’? Are you cold? Did you need an extra blanket?”

You lightly shook your head in response. No.

He tried again. “Are you still hungry?” he asked as he gestured towards the stairs. “I can make you another sandwich if you want—”

He was cut off by another shake of your head that told him that wasn’t it.

“You just can’t sleep,” Joel realized after a minute. He frowned—he could see how tired you were and for as much as he didn’t want to think about it, he had a feeling that he knew what it was that was on your mind and keeping you awake. “What can I do to help, sweetness?”

You blinked, standing there almost dumbfounded.

Clearly, you hadn’t thought this through.

You would knock on Joel’s door and then what?

You would talk to him about what’s on your mind?

Letting out a tiny frustrated huff that was directed at yourself, you waved a dismissive hand in the air.

Forget it. There’s nothing you can do.

As you turned around to leave, Joel reached out to take your arm. He curled his fingers lightly around your elbow. “Well now, hold on a minute. You’re at my door for a reason,” he said. He watched as your eyes flickered to his hand around your arm, but he couldn’t be sure if his touch had bothered you. He dropped it, not wanting to risk pushing you too far or crossing a line, not when he had made progress with you, progress he didn’t want to lose. “You not bein’ able to sleep—it have anythin’ to do with you still not feelin’ safe?”

You hesitated.

“It’s alright, darlin’. You can be honest with me.”

The sheepish expression on your face said it all.

No, I can’t sleep because I don’t feel safe.

“Would it help if you slept with me?”

You raised your eyebrows at him, eyes widening at his proposal. At least, the way he’d said it.

Excuse me?

Realizing how it had sounded, Joel flushed. “What I mean is, would it help if you slept in my bed?” He winced. That hadn’t sounded all that much better. “You sleep in my bed and I’ll sleep on the floor,” he sputtered out quickly. “That’s what I meant. That way I’m right next to you and you ain’t alone.”

Gnawing nervously on your bottom lip, you took a minute to think it over.

If you wanted him closer, this was your chance.

But why? Why did you want him to be closer? Why did you need to have him at your side?

You’d been on your own for an entire fucking year.

And it had been by choice.

You didn’t want to be around other people, sure as hell didn’t need to be around other people.

And then Joel Miller makes his appearance and all of a sudden, you’re at his door in the middle of the damn night because you feel the need to have him at your side?

Finally, you nodded your head. Okay.

“Come in.” He stepped aside, allowing you in. Not wanting you to feel trapped in his room, he left the door open. “And you’re free to go on back to your own room whenever you feel like it.”

Joel picked up his discarded tee shirt from earlier, a small labored grunt escaping him as he brought himself back into an upright position, the bones in his lower back crackling with protest. Turning over his shirt right side out, he tugged it on as you took a look around his bedroom, a larger space dimly lit by the small lamp on his nightstand.

That’s when you saw it.

Perched on a stand, it was nestled in the corner.

A guitar.

Curiously, you walked over and knelt in front of it.

You reached out and softly ran your fingers across the strings, smiling to yourself at the sound it had made.

“Found that while out on patrol with Tommy a few weeks ago,” Joel stated as he came up behind you slowly. “Gibson. Little worse for wear, but in damn good condition all things considerin’. Woulda been a crime to leave it out there,” he chuckled. “I know Ellie’s been wantin’ to learn, it’s the main reason it came back home with me. I haven’t shown her yet since I still gotta clean and polish her up.” He took a brief pause. “You know how to play?”

You ran your fingers across the strings once more, and a loud, terrible noise that wasn’t even close to music caused him to wince. You then looked up at him over your shoulder with an amused grin.

Does it sound like I know how to play?

Joel couldn’t help but laugh. “I’ll take that as a no, then.” He leaned over and picked up the guitar. He walked over and took a seat on the side of his bed, patting the seat beside him. “C’mere, sweetness.”

Getting up to your feet, you wrapped Joel’s flannel closer around your body as you padded over to his bed, perching yourself next to him.

Head down and focused, he began to strum a few notes. You couldn’t help but to be mesmerized by how his large hands moved on the instrument, the way his long, thick fingers—

Swallowing dryly, you cut the thought short.

Curiously, you put a hand on his shoulder.

Joel paused the tune. “What is it, darlin’?”

With your opposite hand, you touched your throat and then pointed at him. Can you sing?

He gave a half hearted shrug. “I do like to sing,” he admitted almost bashfully. “Always been fond of it ever since I was a kid.” He chuckled. “Before goin’ into construction, I wanted to be a musician. But I knew it would never pay the bills.”

You squeezed Joel’s shoulder and gestured to the guitar, then to his throat again. Will you sing me a song?

Joel felt the back of his neck burn and he cleared his throat awkwardly. “Normally, I would probably say no,” he admitted. “But, seein’ as you saved my life and all, I’d be a real asshole if I said no to you.”

Lifting your chin, you shot him a smug look. That is very true. So go on then, Johnny Cash. Play me a song.

“Alright. Any requests?”

You nudged him lightly. Very funny.

“Okay, um. Gimme a minute to think of a song.”

Withdrawing your hand from his shoulder, you sat back against his pillows and pulled your legs up to your chest, hugging your knees.

Nervously, Joel inhaled and exhaled a deep breath and began strumming the guitar. Chills shot down your spinal cord as a hauntingly beautiful melody filled his bedroom. He turned and angled his body towards to you as he began to sing.

“You’ve held your head up,

you’ve fought the fight

you bear the scars, you’ve done your time

listen to me, you’ve been lonely too long…”

Your mouth fell open slightly.

“Let me in the walls you’ve built around

we can light a match and burn them down…”

The rich baritone of his voice caused goosebumps to eruprt all over your flesh. Furiously, you rubbed at your bare legs, but it was useless.

With every note Joel sang to you, more appeared.

With every note Joel sang to you, the harder you found it to breathe steady.

With every note Joel sang to you, the more beats your heart seemed to be skipping.

“Let me hold your hand

and dance ‘round and ‘round the flames

in front of us, dust to dust…”

Joel glanced up, his dark brown eyes holding your gaze as he sang the final verse of the song.

“You’re like a mirror, reflectin’ me

takes one to know one, so take it from me

you’ve been lonely

you’ve been lonely too long.”

Even if you could speak to him, you would’ve been left speechless—all that you could do was stare at him in complete awe.

Joel set the guitar down. “I’m alright,” he said with a sheepish little laugh. “My voice ain’t nowhere as nice as yours.”

You stiffened slightly.

What are you talking about?

“Don’t look at me like that. I know it was you who I heard singin’ back at that cabin when I was comin’ back around.” He gave you a crooked grin. “Earlier I was just playin’ dumb, but I know it was you. You have a gorgeous voice, and I’d love to hear it again someday.”

Hugging your legs closer to yourself, you dropped your head down onto your knees, embarrassed.

What was the matter with you?

Here was a man who had taken you in, offered you a warm bed under his own roof—gave you clothes and fed you, even offered to give up his own damn bed and sleep on the cold hard floor beside you to make you feel safe enough to sleep.

And you still couldn’t say a fucking word to him.

“Hey. Look at me.”

Forcing your head up, your gaze met his.

“It’s alright, darlin’,” Joel assured you. “It’s just like I told you downstairs. We’re gonna take it one step at a time.” Lifting one of his hands, he reached out holding it out to you, his palm face upwards. “And I swear, once you find your voice, I’m gonna do all that I can do to make sure you never lose it again.”

Biting your lower lip, you placed your hand in his.

Joel have it a gentle squeeze. “Atta girl.”

Much sooner than you would have liked, he let go of your hand and stood up.

“We should get some sleep. You’re gonna need all the rest you can get before you meet my kid. Ellie. She’ll be here first thing and I should warn you she can be, uh, she can be a lot to process.” He let out an amused snort and reached for a pillow, tossing it onto the floor. “You can have all the blankets, I’ll just take this throw here—”

As Joel reached past you for a green flannel throw blanket, you grabbed his arm to stop him. His face was just inches from yours.

Close.

But again somehow still not close enough.

“What is it, sweetheart?” he asked, softly.

Warm and laced with mint from the toothpaste he had used to brush his teeth before bed, his breath tickled the tip of of your nose, sending a pleasant shiver up your spine.

Your eyes looked right into his as you scooter over to the other side of his bed—it was firm, cold. Like no one had ever occupied that space before. But it was foolish to think that a man like Joel Miller had never had another woman share his bed before.

You patted the spot beside you.

Sleep up here.

“You sure about this, darlin’?”

You patted the empty spot again. Yes I’m sure.

Joel squinted at you. “You ain’t gonna strangle me in my sleep, are you now?”

His half serious joke was met with a glare.

Keep it up with wise cracks and I just might.

He held his hands up in defense. “Just checkin.”

As you crawled underneath his dark green sheets, Joel slid into bed beside you, making sure to leave a good three foot gap between the both of you; he murmured a quiet goodnight and switched off the lamp on his nightstand before rolling over onto his stomach—not even two minutes later and his soft snores filled the room.

You turned onto your side, facing him. Through a beam of moonlight steaming in through a crack in the curtains, you could just make out the outlines of his facial features. He’d fallen asleep facing you.

Closing your eyes, your body sank further into the mattress, heavy with exhaustion.

Taut, tense muscles finally relaxed.

Tight jaw finally unclenched.

You’re safe.

You slowly started drifting off to sleep.

With Joel beside you, no nightmares came to visit.

#to hell and back #to hell and back fic #joel miller #joel miller comfort #soft joel miller #joel miller x reader #joel miller drabble #joel miller x y/n #joel miller x you #joel miller x female reader #joel miller x f!reader #joel miller fanfiction #Joel miller series #Joel miller story #joel miller fic #Joel miller fluff #joel miller angst #Spotify

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cal-kestis · 11 months

Photo

HOW TO: Do a Motion Blur Transition Using Timeline or Frame Animation

Hi! Someone asked me for a tutorial on the transition effect in the second gif of this set (also featured in this set and the text on this set). So, here it is! This is one of the easiest and least tedious of the gif transition effects in my opinion — and I’m going to go over how to do it both in Timeline and Frame Animation (using the screencap method). Disclaimer: This tutorial assumes you have a basic understanding of gif-making in Photoshop.

PHASE 1: PREP

This phase applies to both the Timeline and Frames method!

1.1 – Prepare your caps. (New to gif-making? Check out my basic tutorial here!)

The key to this kind of gif is making sure your final gif, with all the transitions, won’t be too long or too big of a file to post (Tumblr’s limit is 10 MB).

If your gif is going to be big like mine (540x500px), you might want to keep your total frames between 50-60. I decided to try getting away with a whopping 70 frames total... because I like to test fate (spoiler: my final gif ended up being 9.6 MB 🙈). Since my gif is transitioning between two scenes, that means each scene was 35 frames.

If you aren’t doing screencaps like me, just make sure your clips are equal in length. And if you’re transitioning between more than 2 scenes (like the Mando example I linked at the beginning), you’ll have to use shorter clips/fewer frames per scene. In my Mando gif, each scene was 16 frames and my final gif was 64 frames.

1.2 – Crop, sharpen, color, etc. as you would. For this, since you’ll probably have 2 more more sets of coloring, just make sure your coloring is only being applied to the appropriate gifs. The way I do that is by aligning my adjustment layers with my gif as you can see in the screenshot in 1.3 below.

1.3 – Arrange your frames or clips. If you’re working in Timeline, drag the clips/layers of your second gif so they’re immediately after the ones of your first gif. I like to keep things separated in Groups:

Note: I’m keeping my text layers separate because I don’t want the motion blur to affect them. But if you wanted to make your text transition from one word to another, you can either follow the same steps I’m about to show you and apply them to your text layers, or simply merge your text layers with your gif and adjustment layers, so they can all get the motion blur filter applied to them!

If you’re working in Frames, simply paste the frames of your second gif after the frames of your first gif. Again, you can either keep your text separated or part of the motion blur.

METHOD: TIMELINE

T.1 – Divide the Timeline. Using the Scissors Tool, you’ll want to divide each gif so there are 3 small segments at the beginning and end. (3 is my go-to, however, for my Mando gif, I actually only did 2 segments because each section was already so short.)

Now there are two options for this:

OPTION 1: Simplest, 00:01 Seconds Each, Makes Duplicate Frames

You might be wondering, why on earth would I want duplicate frames? You wouldn’t, usually. But this method only causes the duplicates to happen on the blurred frames, so it’s not noticeable at all! However, if you’re like me (read: Type A) — just knowing there are duplicate frames may bother you. If that’s you, go to Option 2.

Each of these segments are the absolute smallest Photoshop will allow, a duration of 00:01.

Sometimes Timeline won’t let you cut things that short (for me, this typically only happens at the end of a clip). So my work around is to cut the segment so it’s 00:02 seconds long, then drag the clip until it’s as small as it can be. Here’s a gif showing that process:

You can see that after I dragged the clip so it would be 00:01, I also dragged the big clip over so it would still continue as normal. Timeline is neat because, even if you divide a clip, each segment can be dragged back to its full length.

OPTION 2: 00:02 / 00:01 / 00:02, No Duplicate Frames

Timeline works in a weird way... when you move forward one frame by clicking the right arrow, you don’t always see movement in your gif. And if you don’t line up the clips properly with the movement, it can create duplicate frames. The easy way to fix this is by making the 3 segments 00:02, 00:01, and 00:02 seconds respectively. This goes for the segments at the beginning and end.

You can see the duration of each segment and an example of how the gif doesn’t move on certain frames in this gif of my workspace:

T.2 – Apply the Motion Blur filter in varying distances or strengths. Now that we have all of our segments, it’s time to apply the blur. Motion Blur is under Filter > Blur > Motion Blur!

This is the window you’ll see when you click it:

Note the fields where you can change the angle and distance.

The angle is basically the direction in which you want the blurred effect to stretch. I always do 0 because I want my gifs to blur together horizontally — I just think it looks smooth. You can play around with it if you want to get a different effect!

The distance is what I like to refer to as the strength of the blur. But really, it’s distance because it’s how long the blurred effect is being stretched.

The rule of thumb here is to apply the filter in a gradation. The part at the beginning of one gif should go from strongest (greatest distance) to weakest (least distance). The part at the end of one gif should go from weakest to strongest.

I keep things easy to remember and do 20, 15, 10 for the beginning and 5, 10, 15 for the end. The reason the numbers aren’t the same is because I don’t want the end of Gif 1 (which is blurred 15px distance) to be the same as the beginning of Gif 2 (which is blurred 20px distance). If they’re the same amount of blur, I don’t think the transition looks as smooth.

Here’s my entire timeline and the strength of blur I used for each of the transitional clips:

T.3 – Export That’s it! Convert from Timeline to Frames, export your gif, and there you go!

Reminder, if you decided to do Option 1, you’ll have duplicate frames, and therefore more frames than you started out with when you initially imported caps.

METHOD: FRAMES

F.1 – Apply the Motion Blur filter in varying distances or strengths. In Timeline, we created segments. But in Frames, each frame acts as one of those segments — so we don’t need to divide anything. We can just get straight to the filter!

Now, disclaimer: the way I’m working with Frames right now is with the adjustment layers merged with the frames. I typically work in Timeline, so I colored in Timeline and then converted into Frames for this. However you work, just make sure the coloring from one part of your gif doesn’t affect the other part.

Anyway, here’s where to find Motion Blur again:

And here’s what the window will look like:

Now just apply the filter in increasing and decreasing degrees. In case you didn’t read the Timeline section, I’ll paste exactly what I said there:

Note the fields where you can change the angle and distance.

The distance is what I like to refer to as the strength of the blur. But really, it’s distance because it’s how long the blurred effect is being stretched.

Here are all my frames and the strength of the blur I used for each of the transitional frames:

Note: I wanted to mention again that I kept my text layers in a separate group and didn’t apply the transition to them:

F.2 – Export Finished! Easy peasy!

EXPORTING TIP

If you’ve read my other tutorials, you already know this tip — but since I’m part of Discord servers where members are encouraged to share embed links to their creations, I often rearrange the order of my frames before saving them. (This tip is also handy for making sure the best frame of your gif is visible for Tumblr users who turn off auto-playing gifs.) In this case, I made frame 27 my new frame 1 because I didn’t want my embed preview to look like a blurry gif. Everything will still be in the same order, but anywhere your gif is paused, the best frame will be displayed!

Anyway, that’s it! If you have specific questions about this tutorial, my ask box is open. Hope this helps! <3

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bit-dodgy-innit · 2 years

Text

The Shape of You

Summary: Steven loves your boobs. A story of his devotion to them pre, during, and post-pregnancy as you welcome your first child together.

Pairing: Steven x afab!Reader, with some minor Marc x afab!Reader and Jake x afab!Reader. Reader is married to the system and all three alters are no longer working for Khonshu

Rating: Tré Explicit, Minors DNI!

Word Count: 9.4k (yes, you read that correctly 😳)

TW/CW: Heavy breast and nipple play, lactation kink, some awkwardness and embarrassment around Steven and Reader discovering they share a lactation kink, pregnant sex, breeding kink, p in v sex, fingering, dirty talk, slight somnophilia, daddy!Steven (in both senses of the term 😜), breastfeeding and angst about struggling to breastfeed, postpartum hormones, sundress!kink (that’s a thing, right?), public teasing, a smidge of masturbation, public bathroom sex…so exhibitionism? (no one hears or catches them), more fluff than I’ve ever written iN MY LIFE, titty-fucking, come-eating…writing these always make me feel like a dirty ho 😈

A/N: Sorry friends, the OP got flagged...so let’s try this again with a slightly less steamy gif!

First time writing in second person so please, like Adele, go eaaaaasy on me :) Also I do not have DID, so please forgive and Feel free to educate me if I didn’t nail any dynamics. One more thing - Jake speaks Spanish a bit in this translations will be below

Marc, Steven, and Jake may’ve shared a body, but each alter had a different part of yours that was their favorite. Jake was an ass man, plain and simple. He loved smacking it, biting it, grinding himself between your cheeks…the list could go on. Marc loved your mouth. He never wasted an opportunity for you to suck him off, to feed you every last drop of his cum, to spit into its warm, wet cavern.

Steven, on the other hand, was damn-near obsessed with your breasts. If it were up to him, his hands would never leave your chest. He’d been shy at first, bashful, citing his relative inexperience compared to the other alters. But the endearingly awkward bumbling phase of your relationship soon developed into its current one: The Steven-Can’t-Stop-Won’t-Stop-Playing-With-Your-Tits Phase.

You remember the first time he undressed you and got to see your boobs in all their naked glory. The expression on his face was so reverent it was almost comical. He looked at you as if you’d taken him straight to the Field of Reeds.

“Bloody hell,” he’d whispered.

You asked him if he was alright, to which he nodded frantically and asked, “Can I…can I touch?”

“Of course baby,” you cooed.

From there it was off to the races. Steven cupped your breasts, damn near whimpering when he felt the weight of them in your hands, and gave you a gentle squeeze. You mewled, and his gaze snapped up to meet yours.

“That was a good sound, I promise,” you assured him. “Please, Steven, more.”

He was all too glad to oblige. He massaged each mound in his hand and swiped each thumb over your nipple, delighting when you shuddered at his ministrations. It emboldened him to experiment further. Steven dropped a kiss between your breasts on your sternum, then tilted his head to mouth at one of them. You urged him on with a breathy cry, and Steven took the signal to suck on your nipple.

Whereas most past lovers of yours had treated your tits as a fun but brief pitstop on the way to your pussy, Steven lavished ample delicious attention on them. And he seemed to enjoy it just as much as you did, if the way he was frantically humping the mattress for relief was any indication.

Later, after he’d fingered you to orgasm with a nipple in his mouth and you’d rode him like your life depended on it, Steven murmured to you, “Blimey babe, I don’t think I’ll ever get enough of your tits.”

***

So you shouldn’t have been surprised when you got pregnant that Steven became even more fascinated with your breasts. They kept growing, almost vulgarly large, and you’d caught your husband flat-out staring at them many a time .

“My eyes are up here, honey,” you’d tease him.

Steven snapped out of it and apologized, “Sorry, love.”

“Honestly, I don’t blame you,” you conceded, looking down at your chest, using the insides of your arms to push your breasts together. “Even I can't believe how big they’ve gotten. The baby will be well-fed I guess.”

Steven watched you entranced, his mouth ajar, a bulge in his pants growing. “Uh huh.”

Sex was starting to get tricky as you entered your third trimester, but that didn’t stop Steven from fucking you on your side shortly after your little display. He lay behind you on the bed as he drove his painfully hard dick into your cunt, both of his hands on your tits. You rubbed your clit furiously as he alternated between squeezing them and tugging on your taut peaks.

“Ohhhh, Steven, yesssss,” you moaned.

“Are you close darling?” his lips were centimeters from your ear. You could feel his warm breath on its shell.

“Mmmhmmm,” you whined.

Steven picked up the pace and force of his hips. “Come then love, come for me. Gonna come too, your big titties get me so hard, you feel it, don’t you? So good at taking my cock and growing our baby inside you. Fuck love, yeah.”

That surprised you. Dirty talk was usually a Marc or Jake thing, but you definitely weren’t going to stop Steven as his filthy words hurdled you toward your climax.

“Your boobs are so big, gods, I wonder if they’ll get any bigger? Want ‘em to,” Steven was babbling, his thrusts lost their rhythm. “They’ll spill out of your shirt. Gonna have so much milk–”

You interrupted him with a strangled shriek as your release consumed you. Your pussy spasmed delectably around your lover’s cock, compounded by Steven’s dick pulsing inside of you as he reached his peak. You were so lost in the euphoria, the relief of your orgasm, that you didn’t notice the few drops of fluid that had dribbled out of your left nipple.

It wasn’t until Steven withdrew his spent cock from you and rolled over to snuggle into his side that you noticed him examining his wet fingertips.

“What’s that?”

Steven tensed. “It’s…um, not sure how to put this…I think you leaked a little.”

“Obviously,” you giggled, “The sheets are soaked.”

His cheeks burned. “Not from there, love.”

Mortified, your hands flew to your engorged breasts. You could feel it too. “Oh my god.”

“Don’t worry darling, I’m sure it’s normal,” Steven tried to assuage you.

You didn’t answer him, instead, you maneuvered your very pregnant self up and waddled towards the bathroom.

He followed you, not needing to exert much effort to stop you. He captured your hands in his and brought them to his lips. “It’s nothing to be embarrassed about. You’re a bloody miracle, growing our baby inside of you.”

Steven’s tender words and touch allowed you to deflate some, yet you withdrew your hands from his grasp. “Thank you honey, it’s just…a lot to reckon with. I need a moment to catch my breath in the bathroom. Alone.”

“Alright love, take your time and I’ll put the kettle on.”

You kissed him softly, languidly, trying to pour all the love you couldn’t put into words into the liplock.

But in the privacy of the bathroom, you crumpled. You were embarrassed. You were ashamed. Because why on earth did it feel so good to have liquid trickle out of your boobs and to come at the thought of how much milk they contained?

Nevertheless, you splashed water on your face and composed yourself, joining Steven on the couch for a cup of tea and an episode of the latest documentary series you were watching together.

What didn’t you know though, was later that night, long after you went to sleep and Steven had stayed up working on next semester’s syllabus for the course he now taught at UCL, your breasts had leaked again.

Steven had noticed when he’d called it a night and was situating himself next to you in bed. The t-shirt you wore one to bed, one of the only things that still fit you, and now had twin dark spots staining the loose cotton.

He didn’t know what to do. Steven didn’t want to wake you, he knew how the discovery would likely upset you again, nor did he want you to awaken and to have soaked through your shirt. He cursed his cock, which had twitched at the previous thought. He tried to ignore the arousal beginning to surge through him, but your tits made his blood rush south.

The best course of action, Steven (and his dick) had decided, was to take care of it for you. He fetched a wet cloth from the bathroom, then pulled the already stretched out v-neckline of the shirt to reveal one of your tits. Steven gently cleaned the peak of your breast, the warm, damp feel of the cloth making you shudder in your sleep, though not enough to wake you. He switched to the other one, and found a small, perfect pearl of milk right on the tip of your nipple.

Steven didn’t know what possessed him - he certainly couldn’t blame this on his alters - but he swooped down and lapped up the milk with his tongue instead of the cloth. The drop was small, which meant Steven couldn’t taste much when he licked your nipple. So he sealed his lips around the bud in hope of getting a taste of the cloudy milk. Before he could, you rolled from your back onto your side.

Your husband knew he’d have to call it a night, but that didn’t stop him from shuffling to the bathroom and rubbing one out, imagining what you’d taste like.

***

Any thoughts of sex flew out the window when Nyla was born. All of your husbands had been co-conscious for the birth, the four of you equally in awe of what your love had created.

You loved your squirmy, wrinkly little girl more than you could comprehend, but the first weeks after bringing her home were rough. Nyla was a few weeks early, so your parents hadn't made it to London yet. There was no sleep. There were a lot of attempts at sleep training, but not a lot of sleep actually happening between you, your husband, and your daughter.

Furthermore, Nyla had problems latching when you fed her. You tried to stay calm, telling yourself that plenty of women went through this with their babies, but you couldn’t help but feel like you’d already failed as a mom. Plus, the wildly fluctuating hormones didn’t exactly help you keep your cool either.

Steven, however, was a godsend. He never hesitated when he heard Nyla fussing over the baby monitor, he always had a backup bottle ready to go, he even sang silly songs to your daughter while he changed her. Marc and Jake adored Nyla too, yet you’d noticed that Steven had been fronting the most as of late.

You suspected it wasn’t that they didn’t care for the baby, more that they didn’t trust themselves around a being so small and fragile. The thought broke your heart. You wanted to talk to them more about it…when you had the energy. Which, currently, you guessed would be somewhere around Nyla’s 18th birthday?

Tonight, you’d actually had gotten Nyla to go down at 8:30. You and Steven silently rejoiced while getting ready for bed as quickly as humanly possible. The two of you had already learned to sleep when the baby slept.

It felt as if you’d only laid your head on a pillow for a second when you’d heard Nyla crying through the monitor.

Steven sprung up before you could. “I’ve got it. Keep sleeping.”

You didn’t need to be told twice. You were just starting to doze off again when Steven re-emerged with a wriggling, still upset Nyla.

“She must be hungry,” he explained apologetically. “Her diaper wasn’t wet and I tried rocking her for a little.”

You nodded in surrender, reaching under your shirt to unclasp a cup of your nursing bra, then extended your arms for Nyla.

Steven carefully placed her in your hold, then announced “I’ll get you a glass of water, yeah?”

“I’m not thirsty right now,” you told him as you tried to get Nyla to latch. Steven was already retreating from the bed.

“Just in case,” he called from the kitchen.

You let it go, focusing more on Nyla than the observation you’d made that as doting as Steven had been, he was rarely present for when you breastfed. It could’ve been because your sweet husband didn’t want to add any eyes and pressure given your difficulties with it, but you couldn’t help the sneaking suspicion it made him uncomfortable.

Nyla wasn’t latching. Again. When Steven returned, he only needed to take one look at your face to see what the problem was.

“I’ll get a bottle.”

Your face crumpled, unable to hold back the tears, which of course, caused Nyla to cry as well.

Steven rushed back in, and scooped your daughter out of your arms.

“There there, little dove, you’re alright,” he shushed Nyla, expertly feeding her the bottle.

“You’re better at nursing her than I am,” you lamented.

“That’s not true, you fed her perfectly for nearly nine months” Steven objected. “We’ll call the specialist Doctor Slater recommended first thing tomorrow.”

You nodded, wiping your eyes. “Sorry, it’s all these goddamn hormones.”

“Don’t apologize,” he told you, moving to burp Nyla. “You did the hard bit, now let us all help out how we can.”

“Alright,” you sniffled.

Steven rose to take Nyla back to her bassinet, kissing you the top of your head on his route.

You wanted to settle down, you did. You wanted nothing more than to surrender to blissful slumber but a fresh wave of tears came when your breasts began to ache.

Steven came back and his face fell. “What is it, love?”

“They hurt,” you bemoaned. “They’re too full. It feels like my body’s punishing me for not feeding Nyla.”

“Oh darling,” Steven scrambled for his phone on his nightstand. “There’s gotta be a fix for it, yeah? I’m going to see what Google says.”

You passed Steven his reading glasses so he could see, privately reveling in how cute he was as he studied his phone screen so intently. It helped distract you from the soreness in your chest.

“Well, it says the best thing to do is to ‘manually express’ any excess fluid,” Steven read.

“So milk me? Like a cow?” you spat.

Steven put his phone down so he could give you his undivided attention. “Hey, hey, I won’t have you talking about yourself like that. Especially since I have Nyla beat at the moment for being the biggest fan of your tits.”

You cracked a smile. Steven crawled closer to you on the bed, “I know tonight’s been a bit full on, but truly babe, I’d love nothing more than to make you feel better.”

“Oh yeah?” you goaded, watching Steven’s gaze zero in on your still exposed breast.

“Uh huh,” he grunted, then looked up at you. “To be honest…you remember that night a few months ago when you first–”

The night you first leaked. “Yeah.”

“Well, I’ve erm, I’ve been curious since then about…about your…tasting you.”

“Oh,” you gasped. That explained his skittishness when you fed Nyla. Steven left because it made him horny. Well, that turned you on rather quickly. Postpartum hormones were a trip.

Steven gently cupped your engorged breasts, then groaned. “Will you let me try?”

“Oh-okay.” You batted his hands away so could you strip off your very unsexy sleep shirt and shed your bra.

While you were self-conscious about how the milk stretched the skin of your breasts and puffed out your nipples, Steven looked at them like a kid on Christmas morning.

He spared one more glance at your face, “Just tell me if it’s too much or anything.”

You consented with a nod and then Steven lowered his mouth to your left nipple. He started by tracing his tongue around your areola, warming you up to his touch, then enclosed his mouth around it. You mewled as he began to suck on your teat, the feeling of liquid being pulled out of you foreign and therefore thrilling in this context. Your eyelids fluttered shut, the sensation of Steven steadily sucking at you was overwhelming.

Soon the novelty and lingering sheepishness melted into sheer relief as Steven suckled at your tit. You blinked your eyes open, nearly needing to close them again at the sight of your husband resolutely drinking from you. It sent another shiver of arousal down your spine.

“Feels so good sweetie,” you encouraged him. “Are you–ah! How are you doing?”

In lieu of answering, Steven guided one of your hands to his crotch where you could feel his pulsing length. He was enjoying this too. Good. You gave him a squeeze, which incited a groan that you felt against the oversensitive skin of your weeping nipple.

Steven used his free hand to pluck at your right peak, gently coaxing milk out with his fingers. You inhaled sharply at the feeling of both your heavy breasts being drained. Keeping your hand molded around your husband’s crotch, you buried the other in the dark curls at the back of his head.

Steven’s enthusiasm gave you the confidence to ask, “Do you like how it tastes?”

His mouth still around you, he nodded. At last, he pulled off and mumbled, “Why weren’t we doing this sooner?”

A winded chuckle escaped you as Steven massaged your chest. “Might have had something to do with the newborn.”

“Clearly there’s enough to go around,” he remarked before he turned your attention to your other breast, latching on to your already leaking nipple and going to town once again.

You stuttered out a breathy shriek, instantly worried that it’d wake Nyla. Luck was on your side however, the monitor remained silent. You resumed groping Steven’s dick through his pajama pants, letting the fabric catch on the wet stain his cockhead had created.

Steven moaned at the stimulation and switched to flicking his tongue over your nipples, causing you to tamp down on another yell.

“Ohhhh fuck,” he rapsed, pulling off your breast, “I’m gonna come.”

Steven began humping your hand frantically while he gathered both your tits in his hands and swiftly alternated licking at each nipples. You mewled at the feather-light shifting touch on your puffy peaks, now hardened into points for a good while now.

“Yeah, that’s it, come baby,” you urged him.

No sooner had the words left your mouth did Steven’s cock spurt, soaking his sleepwear and your hand with his seed with a whimper. His head was thrown back, his eyes screwed shut in ecstasy, and it was in moments like these you understood how your husband and his alters could’ve been avatars for an Egyptian god, because Steven looked absolutely divine.

Once he came down from high, you withdrew your hand, expecting Steven to walk bow-legged to the bathroom and clean himself up. Instead, he shucked off his pants, and went right back to lapping at your breasts, mopping up the milk that had spilled from you as he came.

“Sweetie,” you panted, “you don’t need to–”

“You haven’t come yet,” he whispered from the valley of your tits. He nuzzled the two mounds briefly then reclaimed a nipple between his lips and resumed his feverish suckling.

“Nnnnngh, Steven,” came your delirious reply.

He pulled off for a split-second to ask, “Can I touch you?”

You were still a few weeks out from being able to have penetrative sex again, but you gave Steven the go ahead to slither his hand down to your clit.

Another cry loud enough to wake Nyla ripped from you when his fingers meet your neglected bundle of nerves. You were wet enough to flood the Thames, and Steven wasted no time stroking you exactly how you liked it. Fuck, if Steven sucking on your peaks and playing with your tits felt good, him doing that and rubbing your clit was rapturous.

You began moaning, a tell-tale whine in the back of your throat that meant you were close. Steven switched teats and redoubled his efforts – your orgasm building to its zenith...then snapping and drowning you in pleasure. One last sob escaped you as your release spread through your body, Steven never detaching himself from your breast until you gently pushed him away from oversensitivity.

You both laid with your backs flat on the bed, staring up at the ceiling in sexed out wonder.

Steven spoke first. “No need to call the lactation specialist, I reckon.”

“Steven!” You exclaimed in a whisper, playfully slapping his arm.

“That fixed it, didn’t it?” he pointed out. “Your tits feel better?”

“Well yeah,” you admitted, “but I still want to breastfeed our daughter. You read all the books and journals along with me, I don’t want to deprive her of its benefits.”

Steven hummed in defeated agreement. You rolled over on your side to caress his face and assure him, “That doesn’t mean you can’t still get your fill.”

Your husband’s face split into a wide smile and he pulled you into a dirty, open-mouthed kiss. It allowed you to taste traces of yourself and your milk’s mild, nutty flavor as you plundered his mouth with your tongue.

Steven cradled you to him, tucking you into his side and the pair of you drifted into the best night’s sleep you’d both gotten since Nyla was born.

When you awoke the next morning, your husband was spooned against your back.

“Mmm, we’re naked,” Marc murmured.

You turned to face him and with a grin, “Fancy seeing you here.” You planted a kiss on his lips. “Hi, honey.”

“Hi, mama,” Marc shifted and groaned, “Any reason why I feel weirdly full this morning?”

You blushed. “Well, Nyla isn’t latching still–”

“Still?”

“Still,” you confirmed, “so Steven relieved some of the…buildup I was feeling. With his mouth.”

Marc grumbled, “Just when I thought he couldn't be more fixated on your tits.”

Nyla made her presence known on the monitor before you could say anything else. Marc sat up, but you put a hand on his bare pecs. “I’ll get her. You start on breakfast please?”

He acquiesced with a kiss to your temple.

Marc was in the midst of scrambling eggs and frying sausages when you brought Nyla into the kitchen, “Look who’s changed and dressed and happy to see Daddy!”

Marc beamed, rinsing his hands quickly before you passed her to him. “Hey little girl, I’ve missed you.”

You took over at the stove as Marc walked his daughter over to the couch. He sat down and rested Nyla’s back on the thick, sturdy expanse of the tops of his thighs.

“Now, Miss Nyla Spector, I hear that you’re not letting Mommy feed you,” he began with mock seriousness. “Don’t you know her huge boobs are a gift from Tawaret herself?”

“Marc!!”

***

Things slowly improved after you began seeing Pippa, the lactation specialist your obstetrician had recommended. Nyla now latched the majority of the time and you learned how to keep calm when she didn’t.

Your parents arrived in London too, which also made the care of your newborn a lot more manageable. They did diaper runs whenever you needed, helped with cooking so you and your husband stayed fed, and would watch Nyla so you each could take showers longer than 30 seconds, even nap.

The only drawback was it made you and Steven having what you’d codenamed “Parental Time” a lot trickier. They’d gotten an AirBnb flat around the corner from yours, and your mom especially had a pesky penchant for dropping in unannounced, resulting in a few very close calls of her catching Steven’s head under your shirt.

So you and Steven developed a new routine. On the days he was fronting, after your parents went back to their rented flat for the night, you’d feed Nyla one last time, put her down and then Steven would get his turn at your tits.

To be honest, it happened a lot when Marc and Jake had fronted that day too. Your parents knew about your husband’s DID and had met each alter, but the men tried not to switch in front of them. They figured their in-laws being so accepting of their daughter being married to three men was already enough of an ask that they didn’t want to alienate your parents further. Therefore, if Jake was fronting when they came over in the morning, he’d have possession of the body for the rest of the day, or at least until your parents left.

This was a blessing in disguise you found, since it evened out the time each alter spent with their daughter. All that being said, you didn’t exactly protest when Steven would force a switch late at night to get his mouth on your breasts when you were feeling particularly swollen.

“What is it, cariño?” Jake asked when you padded over to the bed after you tucked Nyla in for the night.

“It’s my boobs,” you told him, trying to massage the ache out of them. “Nyla didn’t eat a ton today so they’re feeling extra hea–”

Jake’s quizzical expression changed into Steven’s unmistakably hungry gaze. “Then come right over here love,” he beckoned you over to the mattress. “And let Daddy help you.”

His naughty words made you whimper and obey him at once. You sat on his lap, where you could already feel his erection growing against your dampening core, and lifted your arms so Steven could disrobe you.

“Missed these titties,” he growled, motorboating his prominent nose in between them.

“They missed you,” you sighed back as he wrapped his lips around a nipple and began suckling.

And what are we, chop liver? A disgruntled Marc asked from their bedroom window.

Jake chimed in from the standing mirror. It was my day to front, pendejo.

I’m the only one who wants to do this, Steven countered in his head since his mouth was full of milk, See how much she enjoys it?

As if to prove his point, you ground down on Steven’s stiff length and squealed at the combination of his thick, hard cock against your pussy and the steady tug of your milk flowing into his wanting mouth.

“Wanna ride you,” you told Steven. “Need that big dick inside me.”

Steven groaned and his hips bucked against you. “You sure you’re feeling up to it, babe?”

“Yeah,” you confirmed feverishly. “Doctor Slater said it was okay.”

Your husband didn’t need to be told twice. He all but ripped off both of your clothes and flipped you back on the bed to prepare you. He slowly fed one, then two fingers into your pussy while he lapped at your dripping tits. After Steven worked you through your first orgasm, you two resumed your position where you sat on top of him.

The two of you went easier than you normally would. As much as you wanted to bounce on Steven’s cock until the sun came up, your body was still on the mend, and your lovemaking consisted much more of your husband grinding into you, finding the perfect angle to rub his pubic bone on your clit while you clenched around him. And of course, his hands and mouth lavished non-stop attention on your puffed out nipples.

While Marc had long retreated to the depths of the headspace, little did you or Steven know that Jake had stayed to watch. It shouldn’t have been as hot as it was to watch Steven drink from you, nor should’ve the way you grasped your breasts to squirt some milk on his alter’s tongue when you came, but Jake was intrigued.

***

Just before Nyla turned three months, your parents had convinced you to leave Nyla and go out for lunch with your husband, just the two of you.

You’d agreed at first, positively exhilarated by the thought of an hour or two without thinking about diapers, feeding, and sleep schedules, but now that the afternoon of your lunch date with Steven had arrived, you couldn’t conceive of leaving your daughter, even if it was for a few hours and she’d be with her grandparents.

“She’ll be fine,” your mother insisted. “Nyla-girl knows us now, and besides, didn’t Steven say you’d go to the bistro on the corner? You’ll be five minutes away tops.”

“But I’ve never left her before,” you protested as you tried to feed her. Nyla wasn’t latching, now a rarity rather than the norm. You used it as evidence to postpone your lunch. “See!”

Your mother took her from you, “She’s only doing that because she can sense you’re stressed. Sweetheart, trust me, it’ll be good for you and Marc–”

“It’s Steven today,” you corrected her.

“Right, Steven. It’ll be good for you two to spend some time as just husband and wife. Your marriage is just as important as this little one here.”

“But mom–”

“Now finish getting ready,” she wasn’t taking any buts. “Wear something nice.”

As old-fashioned and misogynistic as the advice seemed, it had been a long time since you’d worn something remotely appealing. It felt good to feel like a human again too. Your styled your hair and applied some makeup too, giggling to yourself that Steven probably wouldn’t even recognize you now that you’d put some effort into your appearance.

You strutted out of the bathroom in a little sundress and wedge sandals, “I’m ready!”

Your dad appeared, “Shhh Nyla’s napping.”

“Sorry,” you lowered your voice. “Where’s Steven?”

“He went ahead to grab you two a table,” he explained. Nyla began to fuss faintly over the baby monitor by the couch, “I’d make a run for it now if I were you.”

Though it felt like there was a physical tether pulling you to where your daughter was fidgeting in her crib, your parents were only here for a few more days. You and Steven had to make the most of it. So you slipped out of the flat as silently as you could.

You felt strangely unencumbered as you walked the thousand or so meters to your favorite little neighborhood spot. The few times you and your husband had left the house, it was almost always with Nyla, which meant you’d brought basically the entire contents of the flat with you. At the very least a diaper bag filled to the brim. With only a small purse for your phone, wallet, and lipstick, you couldn’t help but feel like you were forgetting something.

Any worries you had evaporated when you rounded the corner and caught sight of Steven sitting outside on the bistro’s patio. He’d cleaned up too - his hair brushed and parted to the side like he favored, clean-shaven, and same as you, he’d traded sweats for a pair of trousers and a patterned, short-sleeved button down.

“Hi, handsome,” you greeted him coquettishly as you sauntered over to him. “Is this seat taken?”

“You’re a bloody menace, you know that?” he fumed.

You played dumb, “What do you mean?”

You stretched your arms up and over the back of the chair, further emphasizing your cleavage in your sundress.

The dress was from your pre-pregnancy days. Beyond its fit flattering your post-baby body, you’d chosen to wear it since it also provided solid support in the bust, which meant for once you didn’t need one of your frumpy nursing bras. It was a tight fit however, clinging to your breasts and resting just above where the smooth, creamy skin of your breasts darkened into your nipples. You wore it to drive Steven wild, and it seemed to be achieving your desired effect rather nicely.

“You think this is funny, don’t you?”

“No,” You continued to play coy. “I thought I’d dress up for the first date with my husband after our daughter was born. Feels like a significant moment for us as parents.”

“You want me to say it.”

You leaned over the table to prop your ribcage on your forearms, giving Steven a new, even better view down your dress. “Say what, my love?”

Steven whimpered, straight up whimpered, a sound you’ve never heard him make outside of the privacy of your bedroom.

You were on the verge of showing him a bit of mercy when your server appeared. “Mr. and Mrs. Grant, nice to see you! How’s the new baby?”

“She’s good, thanks” you grinned at them.

“Lovely. Would you two like something to drink?”

“Yeah, we’re both pretty thirsty,” you replied, kicking Steven’s ankle under the table to tear his eyes off your bosom. “Steven, what would you like?”

“Uhh, tea, please.”

“‘Course,” the server noted. You and Steven were regulars so he knew your husband’s order. “With cream and sugar, right?”

“Yeah,” he grunted. It took another kick to his angle to elicit a proper response from Steven, “Yes, please. Thank you.”

“And for the Mrs.?”

“Just water please, and one for him too. Thanks Alex,” you told them with a smile. Once they departed from the table, you turned your focus back to Steven. “Wow, you really like my tits in this dress.”

Steven glared at you.

“Sorry, I didn’t think it’d make you this frustrated,” you apologized. “I thought we could use a break from the baby talk of it all, concentrate on the two of us, remind you of the person who made you and the other boys want to have Nyla in the first place.”

He took your hand. “You look bloody gorgeous, and yes those were quite instrumental in creating Nyla if I recall correctly.”

“I can run back home and get a sweater,” you offered, “if they’re too distracting.”

Steven squeezed your hand and rumbled, “Don’t you dare.”

“Then you’ll behave yourself?”

Steven sent you a mischievous smirk and a shrug.

And for the majority for the meal, he did. While it was impossible for your conversation not to include Nyla, you two did manage to discuss other topics. Steven got your thoughts on the changes he was thinking of making to his course at UCL for the fall semester, you mentioned a new restaurant you wanted to try, and the both of you brainstormed baby-friendly places to spend Steven’s fall holiday if Marc and Jake’s schedules also allowed.

Throughout the meal however, you noticed Steven barely touched his tea. That was odd for him, since he downed no less than six cups a day.

“Hon, are you alright?” You inquired after Alex cleared your plates and settled the bill.

“Never better, why?”

“You had like two sips of your tea,” you noted, “What, did they change their stock?”

“No,” Steven replied without elaborating.

“Then what is it? “

“It’s the creamer,” he confessed with a suggestive look in his eye. “I’ve developed a taste for something a little sweeter.”

You felt yourself flush. “Steven,” you warned him.

“Come on, babe,” he pleaded, “you can’t wear that dress and expect me to wait until tonight.”

He had a point. You’d spent all of lunch teasing him. “But where would we go?”

“Bathroom.”

“Together?”

“You go first, I’ll follow you and knock three times so you know it’s me” he instructed. “Then if anyone asks, I’ll say you’re having ‘a new mother moment’.”

“What the hell is ‘a new mother moment’?”

“Dunno, but no one will ask anything more if I tell them that.”

“We can’t get caught, I really like this place, Steven,” you cautioned, “I don’t want Alex and the staff here thinking we’re perverts.”

“I don’t think anyone will blame me after seeing you parade around in this little dress all afternoon,” Steven pointed out. “Besides, that’s up to you darling, as my mouth will be occupied.”

You cursed the hot shiver that slid down your spine at his words. You rose from the table. “Five minutes.”

Steven nodded, a tad too emphatically.

“Be cool!” you whisper-yelled before disappearing inside the cafe.

Thankfully it was a small bistro, so they had only one bathroom, so Steven couldn’t accidentally get the wrong door, plus the lunch rush was over, which reduced your chances of being interrupted.

You locked the door behind you, and found yourself giddily pacing the length of the small loo. After checking your reflection in the mirror, you planned how you wanted Steven to find you.

You decided to keep your chest covered for now and let your husband ‘unwrap his prize’ so to speak, so you opted to step out of your knickers and tuck them into your purse. Next, you hiked up the skirt of your dress and began touching yourself. Fuck, you were wet. Maybe this little rendezvous wasn’t only for Steven’s benefit.

Three raps on the door sounded and you lunged to open it as quickly as possible and resume the lascivious tableau you’d created for Steven to discover you in. You managed to swing it, sinking down on the closed toilet seat and fondling your pussy while Steven slipped in and locked the door behind him.

“Shit,” Steven exhaled at the sight of you.

“You going to stand there all day and make me get myself off?” you challenged him with a playful lift of your brows.

Your husband pounced on you, caging you into his grasp and then drawing you into his lap, where you could feel his already throbbing erection. He yanked down the straps of your dress as once, your tits tumbling into view, already dribbling from your lust. He dove right into your cleavage, his tongue tracing the rivulets of milk that had trickled down your skin.

Meanwhile, you made quick work of his belt and fly, eagerly fishing Steven’s length out of his boxer-briefs and giving him a few tugs. You took a moment when you lined yourself up to sink down on his cock, slipping his head back and forth to feel your slick.

“Were you not wearing knickers this entire time?” Steven asked before latching onto a nipple.

“Maybe, maybe not,” you hedged, figuring that the ambiguity would only rile him up more.

He groaned deeply around your tit when you sank down on him, while you bit your lip to muffle your own moan. You two worked in tandem to draw your bodies together, the force of your coupling causing Steven to have to pull off of your breast. That didn’t stop him from drinking from you however, he simply grabbed both of your tits and contracted his hands to spray your nectar into his mouth.

It was Steven’s new favorite thing. He liked to switch, drinking a splash from each nipple, and you were a fan of this technique too, since it meant he could talk dirty to you while he consumed you.

“Taste so good,” he mumbled after swallowing a squirt. “Ugh, wanna milk these jugs into a glass so I can have you anytime.”

You dug your fingers deeper into the meat of Steven’s shoulders and keened. This was some of his naughtiest stuff yet. Getting off on the impropriety of your situation seemed to be doing the trick for both of you today.

“So bad daddy,” you gave it right back to him. “Looking at my titties all while I’m trying to eat, thinking about eating me.”

“Don’t play innocent,” he retorted. “Stuffing your big boobs into this flimsy dress. I know exactly what you were trying to do to me. Is that what you wanted? For me to pound my cock into you while I suckle at your tits?”

He punctuated his question by doing just that, flicking his tongue over one of your weeping nipples and latched on to coax your milk into his mouth faster.

“Yesssssss,” you moaned. You added a swivel to your hips for good measure. “Ohhh I wanna come.”

“Yeah? Then rub that little bud of yours, come all over my cock,” he provoked you.

You did just as he said, maneuvering your hand around his that were still attached to your boobs and worked frenzied circles over your clit. Your release hit you less than a minute later, your fingers providing the last push over the edge, where the novelty of the location and desperation for each other had brought you there quicker than usual.

You kept impaling yourself on your husband’s dick. He was close too, you could tell from the little cries he let out around your breasts that took on a borderline forlorn tone, as if Steven didn’t want to come yet, he didn’t quite want your fucking to be over.

Steven was no match for the heat of your cunt and the sweet creaminess of your teats however. His arms encircled your waist, pulling you even closer to him, and planting his face in between your boobs as his cock gushed inside you.

A few moments of silence transpired between the pair of you, save for your heavy breathing, then Steven slowly and gently extracted himself from your core.

“I can’t believe no one interrupted us,” you marveled.

Steven nodded from where he stood by the sink to wet paper towels to clean you both up. “Lucky, innit?”

“Thank you honey,” you said softly when we passed you paper towels for your breasts and slit. “We should be getting back.”

You tried to think of something else to say, but when you and Steven looked at each other, the two of you simply burst into a fit of giggles in disbelief over what you’d just done.

“You could ask me for anything now and I’d say yes, I reckon,” your husband joked while you two switched spots in the small bathroom. You checked your appearance, smoothed down your hair, and prayed that people wouldn’t be able to see how fucked out you felt.

“You and the other boys already gave me everything I could ever want,” you turned away from the mirror to gaze straight at Steven. “A beautiful, healthy baby, and a trio of loving fathers to raise her with.”

“Awwww, darling–”

“Jewelry would also be nice,” you swiftly added. You found the idea of a “push present” too transactional, having a baby was both your and your husband’s idea thank you very much, and you knew what you were signing up for. In fact, you’d fiercely wanted it. But something sparkly had caught your attention recently. “There’s this stunning gem bracelet I saw on the Tiffany website that would go great with my eyes. I’ll send you the link.”

Steven rose from the toilet seat and crowded in behind you. He sprinkled a few kisses on your neck, then locked eyes with your reflection. “Whatever you want.”

***

Marc and Jake didn’t protest when Steven mentioned he purchased you the Tiffany bracelet, work had been steady for all three of them, and you had a solid maternity leave package.

“Besides, think of how much we’ve saved on groceries now that every night Steven eats local for dessert,” Marc quipped.

Steven had fucked you in full view of the mirror to get back at him for that, using every trick in his book to show how much you enjoyed him enjoying your body.

Though drinking from your tits didn’t really appeal to Marc (truthfully he had no qualms with it, despite an offhand joke here and there), Jake was different. He hadn’t forgotten the look of elation you wore on your face that time he watched you and Steven fucking while he tasted you.

His chance came a week after your parents had left. Nyla was soundly settled into her sleep schedule, and things didn’t feel quite as chaotic as they had when you first brought you little bundle of joy home. You two were lying on the couch, watching a trashy reality show after folding a load of laundry while Nyla napped.

“Ugh, shit,” you swore, seemingly out of nowhere.

Jake clicked off the TV. “You okay querida?”

“Yeah, I’m fine, I leaked again,” you took the pads out of your bra. Jake couldn’t keep his eyes off of you. “I’m just pissed because I thought I was done with this.”

“Lo siento, mami.”

You rose from the couch.

“Where are you going?”

“To take a shower,” you told him. “Warm water helps ease the ache.”

Jake caught your hand. “Wait.”

“What?”

“No”, Jake barked at his reflection on the dormant television screen, then furrowed his brow. You recognized it as the look he made when he tried to stave off a switch, “I want to help.”

“You do?” you asked carefully. “You do know what Steven usually does to relieve the pressure?”

“Si mami,” he reiterated. “I figure if Steven likes it, why wouldn't !?”

“Oh I don’t know, maybe because I’ve seen you eat two burgers in one sitting and Steven’s a vegan?”

Jake waved a hand as if to swat the implication away. “That’s different.”

You weren’t convinced. “How so?”

“Because Steven and I share a taste for you.”

“Okay,” you watched him cautiously as you sat back down, “We can stop if it’s too weird for you.”

“Please,” Jake scoffed, climbing over you and pinning you down onto the cushions. “They’re your tetas and they’re still so big. And you know I’m the kinkiest one out of all of us.”

“Bien bien Papi,” you surrendered. “Show me what you got.”

Your husband hastily rid you of your clothes. When his mouth first made contact with your pearly nipple, a hearty groan resonated in his chest. He’d held the warm, heavy weight of your post-baby tits many a time, but this was something entirely different.

“Mmm, mamacita, su leche es tan dulce,” he switched to the other peak, already getting drunk off your milk, “no wonder Steven didn’t want to share.”

***

Your family’s fall holiday came together more smoothly than you’d anticipated. Steven’s students were on holiday, Jake took time off from the limo company he owned, and Marc was between consulting jobs.

You were still on maternity leave, but planned on returning to your job in the new year. This time was precious - it felt like the end of a chapter, the last hurrah, the eve of “what comes next”.

So you and the boys rented a seaside cottage in Cornwall. Though you were anxious about Nyla and the four-hour car trip, she was a champ. It turned out that Jake was the one you needed to worry about, nearly veering off the road when he caught a glimpse of you feeding Nyla in the backseat. Apparently your daughter wasn’t the only one who’d gotten hungry.

It was past the busy season, so the little village you were staying in was quiet, exactly what you’d all wanted. You pushed Nyla’s stroller around the sleepy high street, hoping the serene location would ease the blow of what you needed to discuss with Steven.

“Solid foods.”

“Yes,” you confirmed, “We’ve waited long enough to start her on them. I don’t want her to fall behind “

“So no more breastfeeding,” Steven spoke slowly, deliberately.

“Yeah.” you tried to soften the blow. “But not right away, it’s a process.”

Steven looked at you like a kicked puppy, but ultimately he wanted what was best for his daughter. Trying to look on the bright side, he remarked “Well, there’s always the next one.”

You stopped dead in your tracks, storminess flickering behind your eyes. “This one–” you pointed to Nyla, “--needs to be potty-trained and eating solid foods before any of you–” you jabbed your finger at him “--in there can even begin to think about the next one.”

Steven immediately squeaked out a “Yes ma’am.”

“I freaked out,” you acknowledged. “Sorry.”

“It’s alright love,” Steven comforted you, affectionately bumping his shoulder with yours. “You have to do the hard bit after all. Feels like it goes without saying, but we don’t want another until you’re ready.”

“I know,” you exhaled. “It’s been a lot. And as only you could, you turned my struggle with breastfeeding Nyla into a way for us to celebrate being new parents, when it could’ve sent me straight off the deep end. I can’t tell you how much it means…I was so self-conscious about my body after giving birth, and you–Jake and Marc too–but you especially made me feel desirable when I was afraid I never would again.”

Steven drew you into a misty-eyed kiss. “I will always desire you. If anything, your post-pregnancy self is the hottest version of you so far.”

You preened from his praise. “You’re a good man, Steven.”

The week you were spending on the coast also marked your anniversary with Steven (each alter had their own “relationship anniversary” with you, though the four of you shared your wedding date).

As gracious as he’d been earlier, you knew Steven was gutted about you weaning Nyla off the boob, so you intended to do something special for him that night.

You knew he’d spoil you, and your husband didn’t disappoint. Steven ordered takeaway from one of the nicer restaurants in town, setting up a candlelit dinner in your AirBnb cottage so you two could commemorate the evening without having to leave your daughter with a sitter. The Tiffany earrings that matched your bracelet though were a pleasant surprise though.

For your gift, you’d encased his favorite photo of him and Nyla in a frame where you also made imprints of her little hands and feet.

“For your desk at uni,” you’d elucidated when he unwrapped it.

“Darling,” he whispered in awe.

Steven’s dinner also included a bottle of very nice wine, which led to you making out like randy teenagers on the couch after your meal.

“Are you ready for part two of your present?” you queried breathlessly.

Steven looked up from the spot on your neck he’d been nibbling on. “There’s a part two?”

You assured him with a flirty little nod. “See, there is one more thing I want you to do to me while I still have these.” You grasped your tits and pushed them together with your palms.

Your husband’s eyes widened and his hips jerked underneath you. “What is it?”

Instead of answering, you climbed off of him and led him to the bedroom. Your gaze kept dropping to the tent Steven’s turgid cock made in the dad-trousers he wore long before Nyla had been born. You found the view just as lewd as it was invigorating.

Once you hopped back on the bed, you ordered Steven not to move a muscle, and peeled off the rather modest loose-fitting dress you’d worn for dinner to reveal the lingerie you sported underneath. The skimpy set consisted of a mostly sheer bustier that embraced just how obscenely big your boobs remained and a tiny, strappy thong.

Your husband’s jaw nearly dropped to the floor. “Fucking hell, babe. You look incredible.”

“I was hoping you’d have that reaction,” your voice was lilting. “Now remember, stay there, and no touching”

“What are you going to do?” he whispered with a mix of crippling arousal and a perhaps a hint of fear.

You palmed your mounds once again, squeezing them to urge more milk to spew from your teats. Breathy little gasps and sighs stuttered out from your lips as you soaked the thin mesh of your bustier, you wanted to put on a show for him.

Steven’s hand crept down to his crotch but before it could reach its destination you snapped, “Hey! I said no touching.”

“I thought you meant you,” he whined.

“Nope,” you quipped, popping the ‘p’. “You’ll get your chance soon.”

“When?”

“Hmmm,” you glanced down at your chest and rib cage that was now bathed in your own milk. “Think I’m slippery enough?”

“Uh huh,” came Steven’s articulate reply.

“Okay then,” you leaned your arms back on the bed, “Now fuck my tits.”

Steven’s knees threatened to give out. He caught himself and what he said next was a bigger surprise than the earrings. “Alright, mommy. But I wanna get my prick wet in your pussy before I stick it between your knockers.”

It was your turn for your jaw to drop. Where the hell had sweet Steven gone and how did he learn to talk like this? Two could play that game. You fiddled with the straps of thong. “Then come over here and move these panties out of the way.”

Steven jumped you, knocking you back on the bed, too impatient to get inside you to properly deal with your scanty underwear so he did exactly as you’d prodded, he pushed the crotch of your thong aside and sunk two fingers into your sopping pussy.

They went in without much resistance, thus Steven only felt the need to drive them into you a few times, curling them against your g-spot for good measure. He licked off the residue of your desire from his digits and proceeded to tear at his own clothes until he was naked.

His eyes were wild, wilder than you’d ever seen them, as Steven notched the head of his angry-looking erection at the opening of your cunt and sheathed himself in one fluid stroke. You cried out while Steven groaned, your husband wasting no time to start hammering into you.

Every forceful push of his hips punched a “uh” from you, his unrelenting pace stringing them together in quick succession. He couldn’t stop watching your tits swing freely and the copious amounts of milk spill from them. His orgasm mounted in his groin sooner than expected, which propelled him to wrench his dick from your folds and grip the base tightly. Steven wasn’t coming anywhere except your tits.

“Ready, baby?” he asked, his voice gravel as he clumsily scooted up your body to straddle your bosom.

“Please daddy.”

Steven advanced with a goddamn growl, positioning his cock between your milky tits and plunging his length in between them as you held your breasts together. It was nasty, your milk mingling with your juices and his precum, all spread across the expanse of your chest.

Yet the years of love and trust you and Steven had fostered with one another allowed you both to succumb to the kinkiness of the sex you were having without shame. It had taken a hell of a lot of communication and vulnerability for you to get to here, so yeah, you were going to revel in the slick sound Steven’s cock made as it slipped between your tits, the way his face was contorted with pleasure and concentration, how his hands had fallen on top of yours to create the suffocating channel for him to fuck his rock-hard length through.

Somewhere in the back of your mind you realized this meant you were going to have to be this slutty for all of your husbands’ anniversaries, but the thought was kicked out of your consciousness when Steven removed his hands from the top of yours to pluck at your nipples.

A primal sound of pleasure tore from your throat that also ignited your competitive streak. You tilted your neck up and opened your mouth so that the tip of Steven’s cock could brush against your tongue on every drive of his pelvis.

The kitten licks were what did him in, Steven orgasmed with a roar and raised himself higher on his knees at the last possible second to paint your boobs with his seed.

“Oh. My. Days.” Each word required their own breath from your winded husband, now speaking his normal register once again.

“Yeah,” was all your scrambled brain could add before you tried to squirm away from Steven’s tongue on your sternum.

“Please, love,” he nuzzled the one patch of skin on your torso that wasn’t doused in some form of bodily fluid. “Wanna taste us.”

“Fine,” you submitted. “Be grateful I can’t move.”

Steven hummed happily, getting a total of three sweeps of his tongue across your torso before Nyla’s fussing echoing down the cottage’s small hallway.

“Perfect timing, as always,” you groused.

“Ehh, she could've announced herself a lot sooner,” Steven countered. “Hey, you didn’t come.”

There was your Steven, ever the gentleman and egalitarian in the sack. “Honey, if you go take care of her and let me shower right now, we can call it even.”

He pecked your cheek and hopped to. “Only if you let me make a cup of tea too.”

“‘Kay,” you said as he pulled on his, well technically Marc’s, boxers and headed toward the door. You, on the other hand, set yourself the task of maneuvering to the en-suite without dripping everywhere and being kicked off of AirBnb.

“Hon?’ you looked to where Steven watched you from the doorway, ignoring Nyla’s fussing for one more minute. “You sure you’re alright?”

“I am sweetheart,” you assured him. “My pussy’s going to be wet for days after this.”

Steven grinned, remarkably sweetly for a man who’d just come all over your chest. “Love you.”

“Love you, too,” you parroted.

Read the follow up fics : Close Encounters of the Maternal Kind and First

A/N: Writes nearly 10,000 words of lactation kink and *takes myself to horny jail*. Thank you so much for reading and please feel free to let me know if you enjoyed!

Also I wrote this in less than a week, isn’t that terrifying?! Leave it to the moon boys to inspire my to write obscenely long and dirty fics.

My weird little headcanon on the reader and Nyla’s surnames are the on paper and official documents, you use Spector, but casually and in social situations you use the last name of whoever’s fronting.

Translations:

Pendejo - Stupid/Idiot

Querida - dear

Lo siento mami - I’m sorry, mommy

Si mami - Yes mommy

Tetas - tits

Bien bien Papi - okay, okay Daddy

mamacita, tu leche es tan dulce - little mama, your milk is so sweet

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slut4thebroken · 5 months

Text

Exposure Therapy pt. 12

── ⋆⋅☆⋅⋆ ── ⋆⋅☆⋅⋆ ── ⋆⋅☆⋅⋆ ──

Pairing | Jonathan Crane x reader

Summary | Jon comes home to find you crying and in a moment of weakness, you make a mistake.

Warnings | Sexual content, 18+, smut, pregnancy scare, post panic attack?, angst, comfort, body worship?, deep throating, fingering, vaginal sex, breeding, disgusting fluff

Words | 4.3k

Notes | I recommend grabbing a barf bag before proceeding because the fluff in this is absolutely nauseating. (Also I’m reusing gifs now I guess😭)

Ao3 link | <3

Fic Masterlist

Main Masterlist

Part 11

The front door opened softly, then shut just as quiet, and you held your breath as you listened for his footsteps. He called your name, presumably walking around the apartment to find you. Then the handle on the bathroom door jiggled, but it wouldn’t open.

“Don’t come in.” You croaked, even though it was locked anyway.

“Are you crying? What happened?” He sounded significantly more worried now, which only made you feel worse.

“Nothing, I- I’m just.. going to the bathroom.” You muttered weakly, hugging your legs tighter to your chest.

“Please let me in, little one.” You let out a quiet sob and buried your face in your knees. After a moment, you heard the door crack open and you lifted your head as he walked in, pocketing his keys. You cursed at yourself for not remembering that these kinds of door handle locks can be turned from the outside.

“What happened?” He kneeled next to you and brushed your hair away from your face to see you better as his other hand gently wiped the tears off your cheeks.

“I- I threw up.” You said through a sob, feeling your chest start to tighten and your breathing start to come in short pants again.

“That’s why you’re crying?” You knew he didn’t understand it yet.

“Jon, I threw up.” You gave him a knowing look as you bit your trembling lip, waiting for him to figure it out. His lips parted and his eyes just barely widened, so you gave him a pained smile before looking at your knees again.

“Do you still feel sick?”

“Not because of that.” You muttered, mostly sure that you were nauseous from anxiety and fear now, rather than actual morning sickness. He helped you to your feet and brought you over to the sink, instructing you to just rinse your mouth out a little so you didn’t have to keep tasting it. When you finished, he led you to the bed and pulled you onto it, letting you lay over him as he wrapped his arms around your torso.

“You can take a test, then we’ll go from there, okay?” He said softly, placing a kiss on your hair.

“What about after that? It’s not like I can exactly just walk into a clinic now.”

“I know a doctor who owes me a favor. I’m sorry I wasn’t here.”

“You don’t have to apologize, Jon.” The exhaustion was clear in your voice, especially now that you were laying down, in his arms.

“Regardless, I’m still sorry you had to go through that alone. I won’t leave your side until we have it figured out.”

“You don’t have to do that… I overreacted.”

“I’d hardly call having a panic attack over a very valid fear overreacting.” He scoffed teasingly, making the corners of your lips turn up a little.

“Still, if I would’ve just thought it through for a moment I wouldn’t have spiraled.”

“They’re called irrational fears for a reason, darling.”

“You keep doing that.” You muttered, cheeks burning.

“Doing what?”

“Calling me new names.”

“You like them.” He said simply, as if that explained the total switch from reluctantly calling you one name, to now using multiple, voluntarily.

“But you don’t…” The way you said it made it sound like a question, but he didn’t answer. You did, however, hear his heart rate increase slightly. “Do you?” You asked skeptically, practically able to feel the way he probably rolled his eyes.

“It’s tolerable.” He muttered and you lifted your head to look at him, finding the tiniest hint of a smile on his lips.

“God- you’re such a softie.” You mumbled, laying back down, biting back a grin. He scoffed in response.

“Once you’re feeling better, we’ll see if you still think I’m a softie.” The seductive tone made your stomach flutter.

“Sex doesn’t count. That’s pretend.” After a moment of silence, he seemed to realize you won this round because the only response you got was a huff.

You laid there silently, listening to his heart beating and trying to feel the warmth of his chest beneath his suit. His hand moved up to lightly play with your hair and scratch your head, making your eyes flutter shut as you smiled.

“Feels good.” You mumbled against him, eyes growing incredibly heavy all of a sudden.

“Are you tired?” He asked quietly and you hummed in agreement. “Go to sleep, little one. I’ll be here when you wake up.” He placed another kiss on top of your head, making your heart flutter.

“Thanks. Love you.” You mumbled, words slurring together. His hand froze and he stiffened beneath you, but it barely registered in your exhausted brain. He placed another kiss on your head, this one longer and gentler, then continued petting your hair, his heart pounding much louder in his chest now.

Despite getting a few hours of sleep, you still felt tired and drained when you woke up, more than likely because of your extremely long and intense crying session. The second you realized that all you felt were the sheets, you opened your eyes and reached out on the bed, feeling for him.

“Jon?” You mumbled, trying to get your eyes to adjust to the light.

“I’m here.” You turned over and found him sitting on the bed next to you, now in sweatpants and a shirt, with some papers on his lap.

“God- I feel like shit.” You groaned, letting your head drop into the pillow.

“I left water for you on the nightstand. Do you want anything else?” Fuck— water sounds amazing right now. Keeping your head buried in the pillow, you blindly reached for the nightstand and moved your hand around until you met the bottle sitting there. You barely lifted your head enough to chug the drink.

“I hate crying, I always feel so gross and tired after.” You grumbled, setting the bottle back on the nightstand.

“You seem to be in a better mood despite that.” He noted. You laid back down on the pillow and placed a hand on his bicep, wanting to touch him, but still trying to let him work.

“I trust you and I know you’re going to help me figure it out.” You let your eyes fall shut, listening to his pen gliding across the paper.

“Are you okay with a normal test? Or would you prefer to get tested at the doctor's office.”

“Um…” You bit your lip, feeling embarrassed about your answer. False negatives on drugstore tests are not uncommon. Plus you just trust an ‘official’ test more. He seemed to pick up on what you were thinking though.

“I’ll take you.”

“Thanks.” Your heart suddenly dropped when you got hit with deja vu. “Thanks. Love you.” Oh fuck.

Oh fuck.

Clearing your throat, you tried to organize your thoughts and not panic. Maybe he didn’t hear it? He doesn’t seem upset so maybe he did hear it but he doesn’t care? Because he didn’t say it back… Is that why he’s not laying with you anymore and laying beside you instead?

He shushed you softly and placed his hand over yours on his arm.

“I didn’t say anything…”

“Not aloud, no.” Sometimes it’s a little unnerving how easily he can read you. Should you apologize? Take it back? He would’ve said it back by now if he felt the same way though… You tried not to tear up at the thought, but it made your chest ache and you couldn’t help it.

“I- I didn’t mean… I said that by accident. I didn’t mean to.” You said weakly. The pen on the paper suddenly stopped and you held your breath, waiting to be yelled at or left alone.

“You didn’t mean to say it or you didn’t mean it?” He asked quietly. You bit your lip and angled your face more toward the pillow because you could practically feel his eyes on your head.

“Um…” You did mean it. And you’re pretty sure he knows that. This felt like one of those moments that would change the way everything goes from here. If you tell him the truth, he either feels the same way, or he doesn’t. If you lie, he’ll either be relieved or disappointed. You’re not sure which option is more worth the risk.

“It’s okay if you didn’t mean it.” What the fuck does that mean?

“Did you want me to mean it?” He just paused, then sighed quietly at your response. He was silent for so long that you could practically hear your heart breaking. “Let’s just- forget about it. Pretend it never happened… I’m sorry for saying it in the first place, I shouldn’t have.” Taking in a shaky breath, you realized that your eyes were completely blurry with tears that were on the verge of falling any second now. You quickly sat up and started moving toward the edge of the bed to get up and go to the bathroom, but he stopped you with a hand on your wrist.

“Where are you going?”

“…The bathroom?” Your voice trembled embarrassingly, making you feel worse about all of this. When you tried pulling away, his grip tightened, but not enough to actually hurt you.

“Yes.” He said, voice strained.

“What?”

“I… I want you to have meant it.”

“You don’t have to say that just to make me feel better,”

“I’m not.” He said firmly, cutting you off. “I- I… feel the same.” You turned back around and he looked down once he met your gaze. You’ve never heard him stumble over his words like this.

“Are you fucking with me?” Your tone was harsher now, a warning. If he was lying or making fun of you… you’re not afraid to go find your wristband with his toxin and use it on him.

“Do you really think I would do that?” He scoffed in what might’ve been amusement.

“Answer me.”

“No, I’m not.” He sighed. “I just— Don’t expect me to be able to say it. I haven’t since I was a child.” The thought made you frown. He probably didn’t say it to his family as a child based on what he told you, but he’s never had anyone in his adult life that he felt that way about?

“You’ve never had any girlfriends or anything?” You asked, trying to get rid of your frown so he didn’t take it the wrong way.

“Believe it or not, I wasn’t very popular with women. I’m still not.” Even though part of you can believe that, another part is just completely surprised that he hasn’t had one girlfriend.

“How?? You’re smart and kinky and funny and kind and pretty and you have fluffy hair. How has no one been interested?” His cheeks turned pink and he looked away from you again.

“Most people don’t agree with my… line of work.”

“I see… Well that’s their loss.” You shrugged, making the corners of his lips turn up.

“You think I’m pretty?” He suddenly asked, making you smile.

“I think you’re very pretty.” You crawled toward him and moved the papers away so you could sit on his lap, his hands lightly holding your hips. “Your lips are so pink and soft,” You said quietly, cupping his cheek and trailing your thumb over them, “and I don’t even know how it’s possible to have bone structure like this.” You softly trailed your fingers over his cheekbones, staring at them in awe and feeling how warm his cheeks were getting. “And you have freckles. They’re really faint, but I like them a lot.” You brushed your fingers across his nose and cheeks, following the path of freckles.

“Your eyes are pretty too.” You gently removed his glasses and set them on top of the papers. “Mesmerizing.” You muttered, absentmindedly, as your gaze shifted between his eyes. He looked away from you, snapping you out of the trance you were in.

“Why do you think I had such a big crush on you after we first met?” You chuckled, making him look at you again.

“You did?”

“Yes, you dork. Honestly, it was a little embarrassing. You made me so nervous.” Now it was your turn to blush a little.

“I thought you were just nervous because of the.. usual topic of our discussions.”

“It was a bit of both.” There was a lull in the conversation, so you decided to change the subject. “You know what else I think is pretty?” He didn’t give you a verbal response, trying to seem nonchalant about it. Placing your hands on his chest, you snaked them down his stomach to his pants, teasing the waistband. “Your cock.” You smirked, carefully studying his reaction. Which was worth it because for half a second, he was flustered and surprised before he schooled his face into a more neutral expression.

“How on earth can that be pretty?” He scoffed, cheeks glowing red now.

“You tell me, doctor.” You said teasingly. His hands started dragging down your thighs, then back up to your hips. “How about I compliment it properly, hm?” You moved down to sit over his thighs and grabbed the waistband of his sweatpants, waiting for him to stop you, but he never did. So you kept going, only pulling them down to his mid thigh.

It didn’t take long for you to stroke him to full hardness as you laid on your stomach between his legs. When you kissed the tip of his cock and licked up the bead of precum, he let out a shaky breath and placed a gentle hand on the back of your head.

“You get so pink,” you said quietly, mouthing at the head of his cock, “and there’s this vein down here,” you licked a long stripe up the bottom of his cock, over the vein, “it’s so fucking hot.” You whispered. Glancing up at him, you noticed that his cheeks were even more red now as he stared down at you in almost awe.

Wanting to tease him, you kissed down his cock until you reached his balls and started licking and kissing them gently. Your hand was still holding his cock, but it was unmoving. When his hips bucked, you couldn’t help but smirk against him.

“Be patient, Jon.” You reprimanded softly.

“Stop being a tease.” He said through a breath, making you pull away with a pout.

“Jonny, please just let me take my time. Haven’t had you in my mouth in so long.” You whined, looking up at him with puppy dog eyes. He cursed under his breath and let his head fall back until it hit the headboard quietly.

“Stop calling me that.” The weak demand was the only protest you got, so you leaned back down to continue.

“But I like calling you Jonny. Makes your face so red.” You giggled quietly, barely pulling away to speak. As you mouthed at his balls, he threaded his fingers through your hair and lightly grabbed it, not moving you at all though.

“Red from annoyance maybe.” He grumbled, making you smile. When you sucked one of his balls in your mouth, his breath caught in his throat and his grip tightened just the slightest amount. You released his cock, letting it rest on his stomach, and he huffed as the barest amount of stimulation went to no stimulation. You pulled off with a wet pop and looked up at him through your lashes.

“Are you sure, Jonny?” You asked innocently, but your grin turned outright devious when his cock twitched on his stomach. He rolled his eyes with a scoff.

“That means nothing.” He muttered, gently pushing your head back down. You decided to give him a break from the teasing and focus on the task at hand. Sucking the other one in your mouth, you picked up his cock and stroked slowly, forcing a shaky breath out of him as he ran his fingers through your hair, letting you have full control. If he keeps acting like this, you’re going to get on a total power trip— especially after the last time you had sex. Maybe not a dominant power trip, but a power trip nonetheless.

You continued licking and kissing and sucking, all while slowly stroking him and savoring his soft sounds. After another moment, you decided to kiss back up his cock until you reached the tip. When you licked the bead of precum, he cursed under his breath and you smiled to yourself, licking the head of his cock again just to tease him.

“C’mon.” He urged quietly, not yet forcing you though. When you held the base of his cock and mouthed at the tip, he all but whined as he squirmed under you. “Please, little one.” You barely heard it, but you knew you didn’t hallucinate it.

“You’re being so patient, Jonny.” You said proudly, making his cock jump in your hand. “I promise I’ll start soon, I just wanna enjoy this first.” He let out a quiet sigh when you continued licking and sucking on the tip, never going any lower.

“Baby, please.” He whined, making you moan around him. Something about that pet name is just different than the others and you couldn’t help but give in.

“Okay, Jonny.” You gave him a small smile before leaning back down and wrapping your lips around him, immediately taking him half way. Your hand stayed at the base as you bobbed up and down.

“Fuck… Good girl.” He said through a breath. His fingers threaded through your hair again, but he didn’t take control yet. When your hand slipped down to cup his balls and you took him deeper in your mouth, he let out a choked moan as his hips flinched up, making you gag. He didn’t verbally apologize, he just brought his other hand up to gently pet your head as you continued.

You took him deeper and deeper each time until his cock was hitting the back of your mouth. When you reached up and put your hand on top of the one he had in your hair, pushing down on it, he cursed under his breath, but complied eagerly. His cock breached your throat barrier and you choked as he let out a low groan.

“So fucking good.” He groaned and if you were able to make any sounds, you would’ve whined at the praise. He pulled you off and let you catch your breath. While you panted, you stroked his cock, looking up at him and he cursed under his breath at the sight of you, then moved you back onto his cock.

He fucked your throat slowly, but pushed you all the way down everytime, making you gag as saliva and tears started building up. When he pushed you down and held you there, you tried to control your gag reflex so you could stay like this, but you weren’t successful. You couldn’t pull off so you placed your hands on his thighs and tried harder, but he just grabbed your hand in his free one and held it, letting you squeeze to ground yourself.

He removed the pressure and you shot up with a gasp, trying to calm down quickly so you could keep going. His thumb was rubbing back and forth on your hand, soothing you while simultaneously making your stomach flutter.

“Come up here, little one.” He said softly, making you frown.

“But ‘m not done.” You pouted, making the corners of his lips turn up into a small smile.

“I know, darling, but I don’t want to come in your mouth.” His tone was far too sweet for the words that left his mouth. You glanced at his cock with a blush, then looked back up at him and nodded.

“Okay.” You got up on your knees and started pushing his shirt up, making him stiffen a little. When you reached his chest, you told him to take it off and he obeyed. Instead of settling on his lap, you stayed between his legs and snaked your hands back down his torso. The scars littering his body made you frown, especially now that you knew where most of them were from. When you leaned down to kiss one, his body went completely stiff under you, making you pause.

“What are you doing?” His tone was guarded and a little harsh, and you faltered.

“I- I’m sorry. I don’t have to.” You said quietly, pulling away more to look up at him. He stared down at you with apprehension, looking like he was having an internal battle in his mind about what he wanted. Even after he relaxed a little, you still waited, only moving when he gave you a small nod.

You just barely pressed your lips to the raised skin, still worried you were making him uncomfortable. When he didn’t go stiff or push you away, you continued. You kissed most of the scars on his stomach, going up to his chest. You reached the highest one, just below his collar bone, and finally straddled his legs. Wrapping your arms around his shoulders, you leaned down to kiss him and his hands settled on your hips.

One of his hands snaked over your stomach and down until he reached your underwear. He slipped his hand inside and cursed under his breath at your obvious arousal. When he started rubbing slow circles on your clit, you whined into the kiss and squirmed on his lap.

“Fuck me.” You whispered, making his grip tighten on your hip.

“You’re not ready yet.” He replied, just as quietly, then started trailing kisses over your jaw and down to your neck to darken the fading bruises.

“Please, Jonny… s’too empty.” You whimpered, grinding against his hand.

“Soon, little one.” You huffed and he bit down on your skin, making you wince, but grind harder against him. He slipped your shirt over your head, then leaned forward, taking your nipple in his mouth and sucking gently.

“Please— ‘m ready…” You whined. All he did was switch to the other nipple to give it the same treatment. When he finally pulled back and removed his hand, you threaded your fingers through his hair, pulling lightly. He suddenly grabbed your panties with both hands and ripped them clean off your body, making you gasp out a moan.

“I liked those…” You whined, pouting.

“I’ll buy you more.” He didn’t actually roll his eyes, but his tone made it seem like he was about to. When he lined his cock up with your entrance, your breath caught in your throat and you waited anxiously. “Relax.” He whispered, pulling you down to kiss you again. Your body obeyed and as soon as he felt your muscles loosen up, he pulled you down onto him, making you both moan into the kiss. It was still a little tight, and there was a faint burning sensation, but it satisfied every part of you that was needing to feel full.

He started pulling your hips forward and back, rocking you against him slowly until you picked up the pace on your own. When he pulled away from the kiss, you whined, but he ignored you and just brushed your hair out of your face, then cupped your cheek.

“Say it again.” He said through a breath, making you furrow your brows in confusion.

“What?”

“Say it. Please.” His eyes bored into yours with an almost desperate look that you weren’t used to, that’s when it finally clicked. You stared down at him, trying to ignore the overwhelming feeling of his cock inside you and focus on getting the words out, but it was hard. Even though you’re the more vulnerable one in this relationship, you’re still not used to it.

“I—” You choked out, unable to finish.

“Please, little one.” He whispered, squeezing your hip a little harder. So you took a deep breath and tried again.

“I love you,” The words were still foreign on your tongue. He let out a shaky breath and pulled you back down into a kiss, making you moan at the suddenness.

“Again.” He mumbled against your lips.

“I love you.” Your movements were growing more eager and he moved his hand down to rub your clit, bringing you closer to the edge. “I love you, Jon.” He had to separate from the kiss as he panted, but he kept his forehead pressed to yours.

“I—” He started, making your heart skip a beat. But his breathing quickly grew more labored and you could tell it was out of anxiety rather than arousal.

“I know. You don’t have to say it yet.” You whispered, even though your entire being was craving the opposite. He didn’t seem convinced that that was enough, so you added, “I love you too.”

Too.

Because he loves you.

He loves you and you love him too.

Your orgasm hit you suddenly and you moaned and whined as you writhed in his lap. His eyes fluttered shut and his grip got even tighter on your hip as his release crashed over him. Through the almost intense orgasm, you could feel hot come painting your walls, adding to your already overwhelming pleasure. When it finally passed and you were both panting, he pushed your hair that had fallen forward out of your face and cupped your cheek again, running his thumb over your bottom lip.

“Do you really mean it?” He asked quietly, looking up at you nervously. You moved your hands from his hair to the sides of his head and held him there gently, not letting him look away.

“Yes. More than anything.” You whispered, watching his eyes flutter as he swallowed thickly. “Do you really mean it?”

“Yes.” He didn’t even hesitate this time.

Part 13

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solalunar-eclipse · 4 months

Text

Okay. Okay, I don’t normally do this, but I’ve been wanting to do some sort of analysis post recently and the Sonadow shipper inside me grabbed me by the throat and pointed in Netflix's direction, soooooo...let’s have a look at some clips of Sonic and Shadow interacting in Sonic Prime, shall we? (Putting this under a readmore because of all the images.)

The first clip comes from this post. (I don't know how to add that particular gif to my post, or else I'd put it here too, but oh well. I'm analyzing the first one, to be specific.)

So, we begin with Shadow walking away, saying “We’re going after Nine”.

Sonic then reaches out to stop him (with his right hand, despite the fact that he has to reach all the way across his own body to do so, possibly suggesting that Prime!Sonic is right-handed?). This seems to be just before Shadow’s noticed, because he’s still moving forward, looking resolved now that he’s decided what to do.

Shadow sees Sonic’s hand, and looks at it with an expression that seems…mildly irritated, but not outright angry. It’s about halfway between his “resting grumpy face” and his “actually angry face”, in my opinion.

He looks over at Sonic himself with a slightly angrier face (mainly made evident by the fact that the point in the middle of his brow is actually touching his muzzle instead of resting above it).

Then he looks back at Sonic’s hand again (in a pose that I swear is slightly different from the last one even if it doesn’t look that way). The only real difference is that he’s just looking down a little more. The effect of these last three images in actual motion, though, is a blink-and-you’ll-miss-it glance at the hand, up to Sonic, and then back to the hand. It's sort of a "huh-what-huh?!" motion, I think. To me, this gives off extremely strong “what the heck is even happening right now?!” energy.

For completion’s sake, I’m going to finish out the rest of the gif with these last three pictures. Shadow pulls away from Sonic at this point (which, fair, Sonic did grab him out of nowhere and he’s not normally very touchy-feely although this may be disproved in the next gif), and it may or may not have felt like a small punch to the gut for me to see Sonic’s hand outstretched like that, but anyway.

Shadow shifts into one of his patented I’m Trying To Be Cool And Aloof Despite Being An Adorable Three Foot Tall Hedgehog poses, complete with an eyeroll. He doesn’t actually seem that upset about Sonic touching him, however, I think it’s probably more the context of the situation. Shadow keeps insisting that Nine is a threat that needs to be stopped, and Sonic keeps preventing him from doing that, so his frustrated reaction seems to have much more to do with why Sonic touched him than the fact that he did so at all.

And, least but certainly not least, a cute contemplative (and still slightly grumpy) expression from Shadow. (He’s just adorable!! Aaaaaaa—)

Now then! Let’s move onto a really, really big one…

…The Hug™.

The post that I got this clip from actually has some really good points that I’m going to discuss further, so please go read that first! It won’t take long, and also everything the OP says there is absolutely true.

Ready? Here we go! (Please excuse the slightly crunchy pictures...the only way I was able to get this level of detailed analysis was by recording the gif, scrubbing through the frames, and taking screenshots of specific moments, which naturally led to some artifacting.)

So, what's just happened prior to this frame was Rebel Rouge saying happily, "Sonic, you're okay!". Sonic, like the goof he is, does not acknowledge this in any way, fully focused on introducing his boyfriend to his other Shatterspace pals. Instead, he's just looking over at Shadow. Notably, Shadow is instead looking up at Rebel. I'd like to think this is because Rebel has the most put-together and leader-like behavior out of the Rouge counterparts, so he could be waiting for her to continue speaking and give instructions or commentary on the situation, like she does with Team Dark in the games. That's just my take, though, he could just as well be generally on edge—he is in the middle of a battlefield, after all.

Smear frame!! This is included for the expressions as well as for completeness…but mostly for the expressions. Look at how big Sonic's eyes are. Look at how excited he is. He's so hyped to introduce his best rival to everyone. Shadow, meanwhile, looks like he just bluescreened out of pure shock. Sonic's yanking him over so fast he's all blurry, but we can see that his expression is basically 0—0 right now. He has been Touched and he is being Moved and he has not had time to process Why.

(Notably, however, he doesn't break the hold, despite the fact that he definitely could...)

Now, they’ve both settled into place (although ‘settled’ may be the wrong word for Shadow, haha). Sonic is doing what I can only describe as beaming—just look at him! He has a big smile on his face, and he looks almost proud to be introducing Shadow. It really shows how much Sonic values and respects him. (*sobs*) Shadow, meanwhile, has shifted from “what is happening” to “oh Chaos I am being held I am being hugged?? What??? Physical contact? Why????”. He just looks so stunned by the hug, it’s too adorable! More specifically, in addition to the obvious fact that his irises and pupils have shrunk and that he has very stiff posture, if you look very closely at the gif as well as at the following pictures, his ears are also standing up a little straighter and his quills have pushed back slightly, possibly prickling at the sudden contact? Interesting…

Here, we can see Shadow’s ears relax now that he’s processed what’s going on, and his quills have more of a visible curve to them instead of sticking out so much. He’s also glaring off to one side in a position that could either be interpreted as frustration at his current situation (though not so much that he’s willing to push away!!) or as embarrassment. Personally, I think it’s a little of both. Sonic, meanwhile, is still smiling like the sweetheart he is.

Now, we’re getting into the frames leading up to Sonic leaning into Shadow (aka one of the most precious moments of the show). Honestly, I don’t have too much to say about this one, except that Sonic is moving in a way that he would normally while talking right now (shifting around, because this boy has loads of energy) so I have a feeling Shadow probably doesn’t expect the cuddles that are coming his way, ehehe.

The Smush begins!! Shadow looks like he’s quickly resigned himself to his fate, but also decently irritated that he’s essentially getting side-snuggled in front of everyone. This could’ve been another part where he shoved Sonic off himself (goodness knows he did it before in Avoid the Void), and yet he doesn’t, leading to the best part of this whole moment!

Sonic, you smug hedgie. Shadow’s already letting you hug him, don’t push it with that smirk! Shadow does have his eyes closed here, suggesting to me that he is at least a little bit annoyed by now. Again, though, I think this has more to do with the fact that he’s essentially in front of an entire crowd, none of whom recognize or know him. I’ve seen someone else point out that Shadow gets more closed off in Prime when he’s around people aside from Sonic, so honestly, the fact that he’s putting up with this at all sure is…something. (Shipping goggles on: it could be because he appreciates Sonic’s affection enough that he’s willing to cope with the embarrassment if it means the cute annoying hedgehog next to him will hold him a little longer :] )

Okay, so this is really difficult to see, but look at Shadow’s wrist protectors in this image as well as the last one. See how there’s less of them visible in this picture here? That’s because, as the person who posted this gif noted, Sonic moves his hand up and down Shadow’s arm twice after cuddling up to him like this. It actually moves Shadow’s entire arm and shoulder up and down with the movement, making it look a little bit like a friendly rub or shake. Sort of like “hey, look at my grumpy friend, isn’t he great?”. Meanwhile, Sonic’s still looking smug, but I’m now wondering if it’s a bit of a knowing look as well? I mean, this is the one friend of his who’s truly known him for more than a few days. I’m wondering if there’s a bit of “‘ey, Shadow, c’mon, don’t be so shy! You’re my pal!” vibes here, partially because he knows it’ll annoy Shadow and partly because he just knows how Shadow is but wants to drag him into his circle of friends regardless. (Look at how much Sonic cares about Shadow, trying to make sure he’s included! So cute!!)

THE PAT. Two of Sonic’s fingers are lifted up here, which he then uses to give Shadow a light tap on the arm. THE AFFECTION. THE OBVIOUS CARE AND FRIENDLINESS IN THIS ONE SIMPLE ACTION. SONIC CARES ABOUT SHADOW SO OBVIOUSLY IT HURTS ME TO WATCH. MY HEART. No matter how many times Shadow puts up walls, Sonic smashes them down. After all, Shadow doesn’t get to be the only one who does things like keeping Sonic safe or helping him stay grounded! Sonic’s not going to pretend those things just didn’t happen—Shadow cares about him in his own awkward, emotionally constipated way, and Sonic is reciprocating. You can’t stop him, Shadow!

I’m skipping the smear frame here, just because Sonic and Shadow basically pop up and right into this position. Sonic’s two fingers come out of the tap/pat and straight into the peace sign, and now he’s smiling even more than he was at the start of this whole thing. His eyes are all big and shiny too—he’s clearly very happy to have introduced Shadow, and perhaps also quite happy that he’s getting this moment of prolonged physical contact with Shadow. Now, while Shadow’s shoulder is still kind of smushed upwards, which could indicate stress in another circumstance, it seems to me here that this is mainly because Sonic’s hand is pulling it upwards slightly. (Although, I’m afraid it does appear to be the case that Sonic and Shadow are approximately the same height in Prime—remember, Shadow’s ears aren’t as perky right now as Sonic’s, and the ears are really the only height difference between them here.) Shadow’s expression, however, is honestly quite neutral. Despite his previous discomfort (part of which, I just realized, could be because Sonic essentially was pushing him off balance. Shadow was tilted pretty far to his left, which could be a little awkward of a position to be in, especially for an extended period of time), he doesn’t look bothered at all, instead just quietly existing in this situation. Most of the irritability in his expression comes from his angular eyes and his aforementioned “resting grumpy face”, honestly.

(I couldn’t find any gif that includes this next part—probably because the camera cuts away from Sonic and Shadow here for a moment to show the general confusion of the Shatterverse folks—but when it cuts back, Shadow is still standing there with Sonic’s arm around him. Heck, he looks willing to continue standing there for however long Sonic stays next to him, only pulling away when Nine comes back and makes noise, reminding everyone that we’re in the middle of a battle for everyone’s survival here. And when he does pull away, Sonic is dragged with him, which is probably mostly for laughs, but does also imply that a) he was holding onto Shadow pretty tightly and b) he wasn’t expecting to have to let go even AFTER Nine made himself known.)

This post is long enough already (and I drafted it when I could've been going to sleep, because the force of Sonadow infected me), so I won't be doing the "Shadow saves Sonic" scene just yet (unless a lot of people want to see that). For now, though, thanks for bearing with me throughout my descent into madness over these two. And if you want me to take a look at other gifs, feel free to send them my way or put them in a reblog and I'll see if I can make the time to analyze them!

#sonic the hedgehog #shadow the hedgehog #sonic prime #sonic prime spoilers #sonadow #sonic prime season 3 #LOOK AT THE PRECIOUS BOYS #I LOVE THEM #brief postscript:#my opinion on sonic prime is that while some of the character arcs were a bit rushed #the *characterization* overall was fantastic #so there's my two cents if anyone's interested!

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