#and then sought out her company anyways | Explore Tumblr Posts and Blogs

pedgito · 5 months

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𝐇𝐀𝐍𝐃𝐒𝐎𝐌𝐄, 𝐃𝐈𝐑𝐓𝐘, 𝐑𝐈𝐂𝐇 | BFD!Joel x Fem!Reader

summary | the rich father of your bestfriend, sarah — joel miller, was a mystery to you until one day he isn't and you quickly find that your interest in him isn't one-sided. [12k]

pairing | joel miller x fem!reader

content warning | 18+ content, as always: no use of y/n, au/no outbreak, bfd!joel, ceo!joel, mentions of reader growing up poor/absent parents (joel is ridiculously loaded, it's fic y'all let me live lol), sneaking around, age gap (not explicitly specified, but reader is in final year of college and joel is probs late 40s/50s), vacations, gift-giving, unprotected piv, come swallowing, daddy issues if you squint, one (1) pussy slap, oral (f receiving), semi-public fucking

author’s note | anyways, here’s this. big age gap, some power dynamic stuff but not really. if you don’t like, don’t read & all that jazz. love you babies. xo.

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There was no hiding who Joel Miller was to the town of Austin—a pioneer in the community for rebuilding and building upon the surrounding shopping areas and neighborhoods to save the town from complete gentrification. He owned three companies at this point—one manned by his brother Tommy who dealt with larger businesses, handled the biggest amount of workload when it came to dealing with customers. The other was handled by his wife Maria, more often communicating with smaller businesses in the area. Mom and Pop shops, family owned and locally sourced shops. And Joel dealt with the community directly, building houses at an affordable rate that kept his business booming and well above the surrounding competition.

He was so sought after that the idea of him felt like an enigma.

But, to you—he was just Sarah’s dad. For years you never had the pleasure of meeting him, with his constantly busy schedule he was often away when you came to visit Sarah on their massive—almost too comically large piece of land on the outskirts of Austin, Texas.

A large two-story farmhouse that seemed like something right out of a storybook—pristine and in perfect condition, surrounded by what felt like miles of grassy land and fencing. Horses, chickens, goats, growing piglets that were taken care of by Sarah and Joel themselves.

You’ve known Sarah since you were fourteen, aware of her upbringing and the type of family she came from, but it never deterred her from being the kindest friend you’ve had. And your shared, similar interest led to an easy friendship that lasted well into college. Sarah was also aware of your…less than ideal family situation, living under the roof of a single parent household, given you were an only child it wasn’t horrible—but your father was a drunk and didn’t manage his money well and that often meant going without. It didn’t matter what, but there was always something lacking that you wish you didn’t have to make up for with your already overwhelming amount of college work and lingering debt.

You didn’t have anywhere to go, unfortunately.

But, Sarah was always there.

And it isn’t until your final year of college that you find yourself finally meeting the once mysterious Joel Miller, remembering that Sarah told you something about how he was trying to take a step back, allowing more responsibility on his trusting employees to head the company while he took a step back and managed everything as a whole from a distance—less involved, more time at home around Sarah, it was a win win situation.

With both of you working toward similar degrees, it was helpful and convenient to share notes and study as often as you could, especially as your final term papers were nearing and looming like a dark cloud.

It’s an unsuspecting Thursday night when you and Sarah are pausing the heavy studying to cook a quick dinner when Joel walks into the kitchen, approaching the island and nearly tilting your entire existence on this earth on an axis. Your breath catches briefly, eyes dragging over his figure. You’ve seen pictures—family vacations that Sarah has shown you when they were flying across the country over summer breaks and you were stuck at home.

But, nothing compared to the real thing.

His hair is grown out, curling around his ears. A warm, soft brown that is styled and shaped so perfectly it seems unreal—but the loose curl that falls over his forehead gives it away. There’s a deep cut in his silk-pressed shirt that hangs loosely on his frame, some abstract pattern that shouldn’t work as well as it does on him, but his tan skin compliments the deep tones and varying designs. The faint dusting of chest hair is obscured by the chains that hang in the space the silk-button up creates where he lacks the ability to fasten them, or rather chooses not to.

And you try not to let your gaze linger on the cut of his jeans as they cling snug to his legs, cuffed at the ankles and showcasing a pair of—what you can only suspect are new loafers. A dark chocolate brown accented with a gold metal piece along the center to complement his jewelry around his neck and the few rings placed meticulously on his fingers.

It’s no secret his ring finger sits untouched, lacking the heavy weight of a significant other's mark. Sarah mentioned her mom dying young, much like your own—maybe that’s why you two bonded so easily.

“Got enough for your old man?” Joel questions curiously, tapping away at his phone meticulously before pocketing it, eyebrows raised in question.

“You hate boxed mac and cheese,” Sarah argues flippantly, flicking the empty box at her father across the counter, “so no, I don’t.”

“No, babygirl—I just hate the powder kind.” He flicks it back just as easily and you note how easy their relationship feels, like this is how things should be.

Sarah laughs, scrunching her nose up in amusement. “Charming, isn’t he?”

Oh—she’s talking to you? You look at her for half a second, confused, before you’re quickly nodding in agreement without fully listening to what she had asked.

“It’s alright, you don’t have to lie.” She assures, stirring the noodles in the pot over the stove.

Your gaze lingers selfishly, catching the faint twitch of a smile on Joel’s face as he catches you looking. It’s nothing more than a friendly smile, comforting rather than disarming.

“You know—Sarah never brings her friends around.” Joel starts begrudgingly, eyeing Sarah down before switching to you, “Seein’ as I’ve been hearing all about you for years now and I’m just now meetin’ you in the flesh.”

“Dad, stop scaring her.” Sarah gripes, searching around haphazardly for a couple of bowls, “seriously—just ignore him. He doesn’t know how to act now that he’s home more.”

Joel rolls his eyes dismissively, extending his hand in a kind gesture. You grab it hesitantly and he senses it, pointer finger dragging along the underside of your palm as he holds it delicately and bows his head.

“She’s just mad she can’t get rid of me now,” Joel tells you softly, nodding toward Sarah over your shoulder, “how’s the studying goin’?”

He doesn’t let go of your hand immediately and you don’t try to escape either, allowing the brief moment of lingering contact before you slip it away, shoving your hands into your back pockets.

“Fine.” Sarah’s response is clipped.

It’s stressful, if you’re being honest. But, you could see that Sarah didn’t want to relay that to her father, side-eyeing you wearily.

It’s the first of many interactions that led to the tiny crush you began to have for Joel Miller. Your once a week studies eventually turn into two or three times a week, desperate to spend as much time away from your own home situation as possible.

Eventually, it’s nearly an everyday thing. You and Sarah would finish your day of classes and drive the short distance to her house and spend most of the night studying. Gradually, you were introduced into their own routine. At first, Joel would offer to buy dinner and leave things be, allowing you the space you needed. But, it eventually delves into weekly dinners and sitting down as if you were a part of this pseudo-family situation you’ve interjected yourself into.

Sarah knew you didn’t like it at home, so it was never a problem. Joel caught on after a few weeks—noticing how you avoided any questions about yourself, your family, anything that would allow him any glimpse into who you were outside what Sarah had told him, which wasn’t much at all. He’s trying to make you feel welcomed and you can appreciate that.

You’ve offered to help pay for meals on multiple occasions, but it never works. Quickly thwarted off by Joel’s extended hand as he shoves your cash away, assuring you that it wasn’t your responsibility. This was his house, his gesture, and he didn’t want you to think you owed him anything.

Yet, something in you yearned to do so.

You wanted him to know just how grateful you were.

His curiosity about you comes to a head on a night after a few beers with friends, poker table trashed and the kitchen a mess. You were bringing down the trash from Sarah’s room, the shared dinner you two had had as a treat for your first day without studying—it was relaxing, mostly because your day had been spent here rather than home.

Joel gathers a few bottles in his large palm, slipping the lips of the bottle through spread fingers. “You two enjoyin’ yourselves?” He asks, looking at you casually. It was a question you’ve heard often, a simple conversation starter. And talking to Joel was much easier now.

You nod, lips pulled into a tight smile. “Yes, Mr. Miller.”

“C’mon now,” Joel jests, dropping the bottles into the trash, “none of that—it’s Joel. Shit makes me feel old, darlin’.”

The nickname wasn’t new either. He often called Sarah by her name or babygirl.

Darlin’ though, it was all you.

He takes the dirty plates from your hands and places them in the sink, palm extended against the ledge of the counter while he rests his other hand against his hip.

“How are you doin’?” He asks, voice softer but still gruff. “Not that you have to tell me, I just want to make sure you’re feelin’ comfortable here.”

“I’m okay,” You say through an unsure smile that Joel notes but doesn’t press on, “it’s just easier to study here—I’m sorry if I spend too much time around here. Feels like you should be charging me rent by now.”

“Not a chance in hell, darlin’.” Joel grins, shiny white teeth showing behind his smile. The small bit of his shirt that was tucked in came loose by the rub of his fingers at his hip and drawing your eyes to the skin briefly, “you’re always welcome here.”

And you hate the way you crave even an inkling of physical contact from him. A pat on the shoulder, a hug, a fucking kiss on the forehead. You weren’t his daughter, you didn’t want to be. But, there was something about Joel that you couldn’t pull away from, trying your best to keep it at bay.

“You know what,” Joel says suddenly, pulling your lingering gaze back on his face, feeling guilty as you chewed on your bottom lip, “why don’t you come on vacation with Sarah and I next month?’

“Mr—Joel, that’s—” You’re quickly silenced by his hand actually pressing against your shoulder now—and fuck, when had he gotten so close?

“Sarah was thinkin’ about asking you anyways. We’re gonna take a trip to the Keys,” He rubs gently at the junction in your shoulder, the thick expanse of his thumb pressed against bare skin, “—just consider it, alright? Lord knows you both need a break as much as I do.”

The thing about Joel is that he was such a good father, something you haven’t been privy to in the couple decades and some few years you’ve been alive. You want to feel jealous and angry, spiteful that this was something you couldn’t have naturally. But, it feels nothing like that.

The crush you had on Joel was dangerous. But, that was all it was. A craving to be around Joel, to seek his approval and gain his trust. And bask in the care he provides. A simple case of daddy issues that you couldn’t admit to yourself was actually happening.

You shouldn’t entertain the idea.

You shouldn’t even consider it.

“Oh—okay. Yeah, as long as Sarah is alright with that.” You nod, a genuine, soft smile stretching across your face. Joel squeezes your shoulder tighter and you swear you feel it moving in closer, like he wants to hold you closer, cradle you in his hands. But, then the touch is gone and his fingers are running through his hair, curls separating through his fingertips.

“Alright then.” Joel says triumphantly, “You gonna be okay gettin’ home tonight?”

Sarah was driving you home soon, like usual. You nod.

“Good,” Joel nods, “Goodnight, darlin’.”

“Goodnight, Joel.” You say sweetly, patting your hand against the countertop softly, unable to spare a look his way as you walk in the opposite direction.

But, he can’t help his own fleeting and inappropriate thoughts, eyes dragging along your figure as you walk away, hands gripping the countertop like a vice, internally kicking himself how indecent he was allowing himself to think about you. Still, it didn’t stop the thoughts from flooding in and if he found himself spread out on his sheets that night, cock held tight in his hands as he fucked himself into his fist—well, he could repent for it some other time.

You touch down in the early morning on a Sunday, still riddled with anxiety from the plane ride. Joel had tried his best to accommodate, even buying first class tickets despite his usual tendency to go business. He didn’t care much for amenities but he wanted to treat Sarah and you, making you feel guilty with how quickly your face lit up at the sight. Spacious seats stocked with gifts and snacks, a tiny television molded into the area, it felt like too much.

It was. But, Joel assured you it wasn’t.

There was little planned for the week you had to spend there and you had tried to scrounge up a little cash within the month you had to save, picking up a few extra shifts at your job and stowing it away for this—hoping you could treat yourself to something, anything. Even if it was just a stupid tourist shirt that cost an egregious amount of money.

Joel quickly snuffs out that idea, putting his foot down as he assured you that this trip was a treat. Not just for himself, but for all of you. You never asked how much money the Miller’s had, but it was clearly more than you could ever fathom to be imaginable. He yanks the black Amex from his wallet and hands it off to every waiting server and store owner you three come across.

It’s abundantly clear that they don’t worry about money in the sense that you do—it wasn’t unwelcomed, but it was an adjustment that took a couple days to get over, feeling shame for enjoying it. He’d paid for the plane fare, booked the hotels and the activities you had planned, made sure meals were paid for and then some, even allowing you and Sarah some spending money to go shopping for clothes or whatever you needed.

He didn’t ask, it didn’t matter. He just wanted you to feel welcomed. Like family…or something.

The trip is fairly harmless fun, a few swimming activities that tire you all out and lend to an early turn in on a couple nights, dinners that lended you to learn a lot more about Joel. Still, as much as Joel tried, you weren’t as open. Vague answers, sidewaying the conversation. He didn’t try to pry, though. And you were thankful for that.

But, with fairly harmless came a few instances that didn’t feel so.

The first comes in the deep end of the ocean, floating on a shared longboard in the midst of the calm waves, humid heat sticking to your skin. Fingers fiddling with the loosening tie around the back of your neck as Sarah wades off to the shore for a brief minute to reapply sunscreen. And maybe you shouldn’t have asked, but you see the lingering look Joel gives you, fingers curling subtly against the edge of the board.

“Can you help me?” You ask, slowly edging around the board until you’re beside him, turning before he has the opportunity to answer. “It’s hard to get it tight on my own.”

Joel clears his throat and offers a smile, “‘Course, chin down for me?” And you follow his lead, feeling his fingers brush against your neck and guide your head down, untying the loose not completely and feeling your swim top go slack, covered by the safety of the water and your back turned to him, but it doesn’t stop the touch of his fingertips against your skin as he ties the knot and tugs slightly, assuring that it was secure to his liking. You lift your head slowly when you feel his palm press flat against your back, fingers curling around the point where your shoulder meets your neck.

“Thanks, Joel.” You turn your head over your shoulder to look back at him, earning a small nod as his touch lingers, only loosening when you rescue your grip on the longboard in front of you.

“Enjoyin’ yourself so far?” He asks, always able to ease into steady conversation without missing a beat. “Any complaints?”

“Definitely,” You smile wide, huffing soft laugh through your nose as you shake your head, “I guess I do have one complaint, actually.” You tell him honestly, a subtle nervousness to your voice.

“Well, I’m all ears, darlin’.” He responds, leaning his elbow onto the board as it bobbed slightly.

“I just…you don’t have to pay for everything, Joel.” You find yourself rushing out the words, hoping that it wouldn’t cause an adverse reaction, but instead, Joel smiles wider.

“Look, I invited you on this trip,” Joel explains, “and that means you aren’t paying for a damn thing. Alright?”

You nod meekly, quieting down as Sarah waded back into the ocean toward you both.

With Joel, it was something you would have to learn to accept.

You try to ignore the lingering touch of his fingertips on your neck, but now it feels like a burn in your skin that would only get worse as time went on.

The second instance isn’t as much of a thing, rather than a moment.

Eyeing a sundress that resembled some of the similar outrageous patterning that Joel wore, shapes and blobs morphed around the material yet somehow managing to look chicer than anything you’ve ever come across, strappy and long and deep cut down the center. It wasn’t for modesty, you could assume that much. You run your fingers along the creases and stitching in the fabric, admiring it as you flipped the tag in your hand, immediately gawking at the price.

Joel had been lingering by, browsing the various knick knacks and souvenirs lining the shelves off the small store—all hand-made pieces that he could appreciate, but didn’t find any use for himself. And he’s watching you, has been for a while, noticing the way your eyes kept flicking back toward the dress despite your path around the store.

Joel casually follows the same path, taking a subtle peek at the tag. It was a few hundred dollars, but given the silkiness of the material and him being very familiar with the tone of pricing around the area, it wasn’t an outrageous ask. He slips the dress off the rack, careful as he removes it off the hanger and finds you separated from Sarah as you peruse down a wall of jewelry—some cheap and some not, looking around with no real want, just admiring.

He slips the dress into your hands, rough, overworked palms cupping your own as he makes you physically wrap your fingers around and claim the garment, chest to your back as he speaks, lips a hair's breadth away from your ear.

“It’s a pretty dress,” Joel says calmly, much calmer than your rapidly beating heart and the sudden uptick in your breathing, silk material spread out over your fingertips, “shame for it to go to waste, darlin’.”

“It’s expensive.” You argue, voice soft as he locks eyes with you in the mirror nestled in the nearest corner, “It’s nice to want things Joel, but I don’t need it.”

“I dunno,” He responds, unconvinced, “and—maybe I’m speaking out of turn but I think it’d look great on you.”

And you’ve never been more thankful of Sarah’s obliviousness to certain things, so wrapped up in her own shopping across the store that you two remained unsuspecting, eyes still locked on one another through the shared mirror.

He can see the way your body twitches at the comment, responds, but what he doesn’t understand is how it makes your cunt throb, solid body pressed against your back as he squeezes the backside of your hands with his palm. The willingness of contact was still fresh and new but it never made you feel unsafe—in fact, it had the opposite effect entirely.

Joel speaks again, directly to you in the mirror.

“I might just have to buy it for you, darlin’.” He says quietly, “You alright with that?”

You hesitate for a moment, but nod shakily. “Thank you, Joel.”

“Don’t need to keep thankin’ me.” Joel assures, “I know it’s implied.”

But, the instance that had you reeling for days after, still replaying it vividly in your mind, was a night near the end of your trip. Sarah had long gone to bed and you, riddled by insomnia, find yourself at the hallway vending machine, looking for a snack to cure your growing hunger.

Though, it seemed that Joel had the same idea—fork halfway into his mouth as he turned the corner, a sizable piece of chocolate cake inside of a small to-go tray, looking even guiltier as he caught sight of you, feeling like he really didn’t want to get caught like this. It makes you laugh into the palm of your hand. Joel is acting like the kid that got sneaking cookies in the middle of the night, still not hesitating to lick the fork clean as he tucked it away in the styrofoam box.

“Don’t tell Sarah,” He swears you to secrecy, “she’s already on my ass enough about my sugar intake.”

“You’ve got a sweet tooth,” You shrug, “nothing wrong with that.”

“What about you, huh?” Joel’s eyebrows raise in question, watching as you peruse the various snacks but not finding anything particularly appetizing. “Late night snack?”

“Somethin’ like that.” You chew at your bottom lip, feeling that this was useless.

“Wanna share it?” Joel asks suddenly, pulling your attention to him immediately. “That way I feel a little less guilty about it.”

“Oh—and then bring me down with you?” You tease lightly, “Of course.”

It’s how you end up in Joel’s room that night, no other intentions than to share that stupid piece of cake, lacking a fork so you trade off for a few bites until it slowly delves into you both feeding each other as you talk, one of you hogging the fork more than the other. You curled up in one chair and Joel relaxed out in the other, styrofoam box held to his chest and forcing you to lean closer to assure you didn’t drop crumbs everywhere.

Maybe it should feel weird, but it doesn’t.

“You know—if there’s anything you do need—” Joel begins after a while, meaningless conversation having died out.

“I know—Sarah tells me all the time. I just have to ask.” It feels pointless, rehashing things again. But, Joel feels the need to reassure and comfort. It didn’t help that he was finding himself, at his age, attracted to you in such a depraved way. “I will—if I do, I mean.”

It’s forbidden territory he couldn’t cross. But realistically, that only made him want you more.

Joel feeds you a slow bite, lips catching over the fork but smearing a copious amount of chocolate frosting on your chin. Before you have the thought process to wipe it away Joel is already there, leaning forward in his chair as he uses his pointer finger to clean you up, eyes following his movements carefully after the first initiation of touch.

Your breath catches in your throat, expecting him to use his own mouth to disallow wasting the frosting, but instead he raises it to your mouth in a split decision, his eyes dilating slightly under your shy gaze. Your lips press against the side of his finger in a gentle kiss that quickly spreads, taking the full length of his finger into your mouth as you lick away the excess frosting, feeling the pulse of desire in your belly as it grew, knowing that if Joel wanted to keep you there he could, locked under his gaze with his fingers stuffed into your mouth and you’d let him.

It was despicable. Inappropriate and wrong. But, you couldn’t help how badly your body wanted him, despite your brain telling all of this was a horrible decision.

You pull your mouth away with a soft pop, watching as Joel curl’s his hands into tight fists as he pulls them back to his side lazily, seeming more tense now.

“I should go.” You say softly, terrified to disturb this moment and the tension that blanketed it.

“Yeah, I think that’s a good idea, darlin’.” Joel says reluctantly.

Things only get worse from then on—and maybe worse is a strong word. But, it soon turns into a game that neither of you can stop, waiting until one of you finally makes the wrong move.

A few weeks later and your laptop takes the shit on a random Tuesday, head buried in your hands as Sarah tries to console you, but it isn’t much use. You knew it was a stretch to think the laptop could last you through the entire semester, and with just a few short months left, it couldn’t be worse timing.

Joel walks in at your inconvenience, keys jingling in his hands as he slips off his leather peacoat, glancing at Sarah who didn’t give him much to go off of. He folds the jacket over the back of an empty dining chair and rests his hands against the top of it, eyes scanning over the both of you at the table, one looking a little more distraught than the other.

“Everything alright?” He asks curiously, earning a subtle head shake from Sarah. He clears his throat, “Or—uh, well, how is the studying going? Feel like that’s all you two do.”

You rub a frustrated hand over your face and sigh, “I’m gonna see if I can get a ride home or something,” You tell Sarah, sliding your phone off of the table, “I’ll deal with this later.”

Joel and Sarah share a quick look of communication, her hand waving toward you sharply, forcing Joel to speak up before you make another rash decision and spend money on a long ride home when had the perfect opportunity standing right in front of you.

“I can give you a ride home.” Joel offers, much to your surprise.

You’ve been alone with Joel a lot now, though inadvertently.

Sarah would sneak away in her room for longer stretches of time just to call her boyfriend—which wasn’t a bad thing, but it felt odd when Joel would come home and there was no one to greet him but you. Still, you stretched your lips into a smile and welcomed him sweetly.

Even if this was his home.

Or times when you just happened to cross each other's path, even in such a large space. Sometimes the front porch when you were taking a break to stretch your legs, his watchful gaze dragging along your figure as he sipped on a hot cup of coffee in the evening, foot stabilized on the deck as he rocked in the wooden swing he sat on, crickets chirping loudly as the sun set.

Or just a simple trip to the bathroom, his bedroom across the hall and a couple doors down, often shut, but there were moments when you opened the doors, nearly face to face, and neither of you could look away. Joel would clear his throat, excuse himself, and kindly gesture for you to walk first. It happened often, too often—but neither of you addressed it. Instead, the tension grew. And grew. Until it felt like poking a sleeping bear. So it hibernated in both of you quietly.

Part of you expected things to change, that the small moment shared in his hotel room would make things hard to navigate, but if anything—it’s easier.

“Okay.” You agree easily, not having the proper energy to fight him over it.

The ride is quiet for the most part and Joel doesn’t need the step by step directions as he knows this town like the back of his hand, but he makes a wrong turn somewhere between his house and yours and you don’t feel like something is wrong, but it definitely feels off.

“Joel, you missed the last left.” You speak up as he continues down the road, glancing around leisurely as you soon delve onto a main street, lined with several shops. “Joel—”

“I’m gonna make a quick stop,” Joel attempts to ease your worries, fingers tapping against the gear shift positioned in the center console, “if you don’t mind.”

The moment he pulls into the parking lot of the electronic store, you know. You can see it in his eyes as he squints, checking that the store is still open and pulls into a parking spot near the front of the store.

“Joel, no—” You grab his wrist suddenly, his free hand reaching for the door handle and he looks down, eyes connecting where your skin touched before slowly flicking up to you, “look—just, I don’t need you to buy me a new fuckin’ laptop. I can handle it.”

Joel’s shoulders shrug in his obnoxiously patterned shirt, like he’s working out a kink in his neck as he repositions himself in the seat but doesn’t pull away from you. In fact, his hand gradually pulls toward your knee, fingers squeezing around your kneecap comfortingly.

“Considering it a loan then?” Joel tries to bargain, “Let me help you out now so you won’t have to worry about it and you can pay me back as you get the money? I see how often Sarah uses her laptop, it doesn't make sense for you to go without when I can help.”

You chew on your bottom lip thoughtfully, staring intensely back at him. You could put your foot down and deny his offer, but the idea of suffering through the rest of the semster without your sole life line to surviving through college—well, that was actually torture.

“I’m paying back every single penny.” You tell him forthright, waiting until he nods in agreement.

“Sounds like a deal to me.” Joel responds.

Joel spares no expense, which doesn’t come as a surprise. He buys you the highest, top notch laptop they have to offer—and even as you stare daggers into the side of his face, there’s an inkling in your mind that tells you he isn’t going to allow you to hold up your end of the deal.

Joel liked to party too—not giant parties that felt overwhelming and unwelcoming. But, he did have a close group of older male friends that he liked to play poker with on the back deck of the Miller household.

Sarah learned to block it out early on, knowing that at some point things would get just a little too loud and not as easy to ignore. But, Joel never made you feel out of place within any of these instances. You were welcome here all the time and Joel was clear about that.

He’s showered you with gifts and accommodation and you hate the way it makes you feel special, wanted—beyond the night in his hotel room it was only innocent glances. It felt like you were misreading things, making something out of nothing.

Things aren’t great at home and you like it here—love it, even. And you feel your mind nagging away to make a stupid, spur of the moment decision. You could ignore it, but then your eyes catch Joel’s through the slight crack in the door, trapping you in his gaze like you’ve been caught doing something wrong.

He squints slightly, lips curling around his beet bottle as he takes a long swig, fist uncurling against his jeans as he rubs out his palm and smiles—he has you hooked in so fucking easy it feels pathetic.

This is wrong. You inhale a shaky breath and turn away, busying yourself with literally anything else—a scuff on the table, the chipped nail polish on your fingernails, something.

Eventually his friends filter out—and Sarah had invited you to stay over the night barring that it was the weekend and she enjoyed your presence just as much as you did hers—if only she could understand the now huge, harboring crush you had on her father. It was harmless, but it felt like a betrayal.

And the feeling only increased as the night creeped along, your burdening insomnia keeping you awake, shifting and turning in the sheets beside her as you tried and failed miserably to fall asleep.

It was quiet out here, less commotion from the city. It was eerie, in a way.

You slip out of the bed quietly, walking barefoot on the hardwood as you tiptoed until you were outside of her room, closing the door behind you. You weren’t hungry, so you didn’t bother with the kitchen, rather heading toward the front door that was already halfway open.

Part of you expected Joel to be sitting on the porch, no real rhyme or reason. But, even he is out of sight. The soft, well-kept grass welcomes the press of your feet as you wander outside slowly, the hug of the warm spring air on your skin even this late at night. You catch one of the Miller’s horses hanging out around the edge of their enclosure, wondering if they managed to nudge their way out of their stable. You approach slowly, still not as accustomed to them as you’d like to be.

But, they were friendly. So, you raised a careful hand and rubbed gently at the horse’s mane, smiling at the soft huff it offered in return, leaning its snout over the fence more.

“Sunshine is always friendly,” Joel says from somewhere you don’t see, startling you out of your body as you jump, whipping your head around to look for him, eventually landing on his approaching form as he left the barn that held the stables, “—sneaky little gal, though.”

You laugh softly, finding it hard to believe that such a sweet horse was capable of escaping.

Joel whistles softly, beckoning her toward him. “Come on.” He nods, silently asking you to join him. You follow eagerly, watching as he unlocks the entrance to the fence for you to slip through, locking it behind you as you pass the threshold, catching up with Joel in a few steps.

“Don’t sleep well, do you?” He asks, heading turned over his shoulder briefly to look at you. You nod quietly, leisurely approaching Sunshine’s stable and watching as Joel locks her back up, rattling the gate for safety this time, ensuring it was secure. “Seems we have a few things in common.”

Joel stays quiet for a moment—in his own head, a deep moment of contemplation, carrying and safeguarding these thoughts he knows he shouldn’t have, wondering how your skin would feel against his palm, how the pulse of your heart would feel as he pressed his hand to the center of your chest and kissed you, full tongue and consumed your essence, this unignorable aura you had around you.

He feels sick, distraught. But, he can’t force himself to avoid you either.

“There’s somethin’ that usually helps me,” Joel tells you, hand pressed wordlessly against the center of your back as he guides you out of the barn and locks it up as well, “just goin’ somewhere quiet—lot of the time it’s just my thoughts keepin’ me awake.”

God, if only he knew.

He did, but that wasn’t the point.

Joel quiets for a moment, stuffing the ring of keys into his pocket as he glances over at the house briefly.

“You wanna go for a quick drive?” Joel asks suddenly, forcing it out before he can find a reason to stop himself.

“As long as it doesn’t end with you buying me another laptop, sure.” You chide deviously, watching the smirk grown on Joel’s face, knowing he still hasn’t taken a dollar from you.

And vehemently refuses every time you offer.

Joel drives you the path further into the land of property he owns, most of it still unexplored by you, eventually finding a clearing near the east edge, right on the edge of a body of water and a dock nestled near the shore. There’s a small boat tied to a post, big enough for a few people.

Under this light, as you exit the truck, Joel looks different.

He’s free of the weight of jewelry he wore, comfortable in his worn shirt and soft cotton shorts. For a while, Joel had been such an enigma that you weren’t sure what to make of him. Sure, he was just Sarah’s dad—but he was also Joel Miller, backbone of the town. His face was plastered everywhere. There wasn’t a single street you could traverse down that didn’t have him nestled away somewhere.

He spots a small mud puddle under your feet as he rounds the truck and quickly catches you before your feet get stuck, hands locked in yours as you jump over the small patch of wet dirt.

You let out an exasperated sigh as you look up at him, silently thanking him with your eyes.

“Can you swim?” He asks casually.

“Yeah…” You respond hesitantly, eyes locked onto the boat several feet away.

Joel releases your hands, but it doesn't matter. His touch still lingered painfully and you want nothing more than to pull him back in. But, now Joel is asking to go on a midnight boat ride with you and—really, how could you turn that down?

Joel rows you toward the center of the lake, your eyes locked onto the mesmerizing sight of the stars in the sky, so much clearer out here and away from the city.

“Pretty, ain’t it?” Joel asks, not bothering to look his way.

You smile slightly, leaning back onto the palms of your hands.

“Yeah, it really is.” You miss the way Joel’s gaze lingers, admiring you.

“Now—sometimes I just come out here and talk to nothin’,” Joel explains when the boat comes to a full stop and he rests the oars inside the boat, knees spread as he resting his elbows on them, “then other times I just sit and enjoy the quiet.”

Your choice—that’s what he’s implying.

You clear your throat softly, finally changing a glance his way.

“I just—I don’t wanna say I’m jealous of what you have here,” You say quietly, “but, it really is a bitter reminder of without Sarah or you, I’d have next to nothing.”

Joel stays quiet, allowing you to marinate in thought and figure out how to convey how you were feeling.

“And—I don’t know. Selfishly, I like it.” Liked him. “But, I don’t want to rely on it and you make that a little impossible. I do have money, Joel. I can pay for things. I just don’t want you feeling like you have to do any of this out of necessity.”

“I’m not,” Joel admits, “Now—what makes you think that, darlin’?”

“I just—I don’t want anyone thinking I need to be fixed, I don’t.” You tell him, “I don’t need charity, either.”

Joel waves his fingers in a come closer motion, taking your slowly extending hands in his own, thumbs rubbing over soft skin tenderly, boring his eyes into your own.

“I’m gonna tell you this once and I need you to listen,” Joel says softly, but his voice feels so loud in the silence of the night, breeze hitting your skin and sending a sharp chill up your spine—but, you’re not how much of mother nature is responsible for that, “really listen, alright?”

You nod slowly, blinking a few times as you feel yourself shrink under his gaze.

“What I give you isn’t charity,” Joel tells you seriously, “and—maybe this is crossing a boundary I shouldn’t but, you’re somethin’ close to family. I take care of people I care about.”

Not family—he couldn’t conitate that with the feelings and thoughts he was having toward you.

“Close to family?” He was praying you wouldn’t harp on it, but you needed to confirm the underlying layer of tension that lingered between you two all the time. It was driving you insane, keeping you late into the night—he was the reason for your insomnia.

Joel smirks slightly, covering it with a quiet chuckle. His hand gradually cradles your face, rubbing along your cheek with a delicate touch, “I think you know, darlin’.”

God, he hoped you did. His thumb dragging along your plush bottom lip, eyes lingering for a brief moment before he pulls away, immediately missing his touch as he reigns himself to the idea that he may have crossed a line, quietly rowing the way back toward the dock.

Neither of you get much sleep that night anyways.

More time passes, lingering touches grow, and Joel is terrible at hiding his affinity for you now. Finding that those few words burned all regards he had toward keeping himself restrained around you. He had enough of a mind to keep it private—but there were comments, sweet little words that he’d whisper as you walked by or he caught you alone.

Nothing scandalizing, but just enough that it had your heart fluttering in your chest.

Until there is a small slip up, helping the Miller’s with dinner one night as Sarah escapes to the bathroom for a brief moment, your arms outstretched into the cabinet to grab for something just out of reach.

“Use the stool, darlin’,” Joel sees your struggle, “safer that way.”

You look around observantly before you find a folded up stool tucked into the only open corner in the kitchen, taking it back to your spot and unfolding it.

“Good girl.” Joel comments quietly, catching the startled look on your face as your head snaps back toward him. And he has the nerve to smile, noticing the hitch in your breath.

And it only grows in intensity until you can’t stand it anymore, cornering him in the kitchen on a night where Sarah is already upstairs gathering herself for bed, thinking you had come down for a couple bottles of water.

Joel is nursing a small glass of whiskey and he’s silent, but his gaze tracks your movement. You move toward him.

There is a belief in you, fully realized, that something is up here.

"Joel," You lick your lips hesitantly, squaring yourself up against the counter, standing straight, trying not to seem like you were teetering near a dangerous edge of delirium, wondering if you were imagining all of this, "can I ask you something?"

There's a severe lack of distance between you two, knees knocking against each other gently from where you both stand, eyes searching out cautiously even though you know there's nothing to worry about. You were alone, something that has happened far too many times over the past few months. Lingering moments of wandering gazes, eyes connecting from across the room even if Joel was surrounded by people, partying with friends while you're tucked away in the corner while Sarah talks to you about the boys at school that you can't be bothered to give the time of day.

Because of Joel. Because your mind is so tainted by the idea of him.

His palm is flattened out against the counter, adorned with a couple golden rings that clack against the marble, gold chains to match that sat perfectly against his chest, framing the small patch of hair that peeked out over his unbuttoned shirt, silk-pressed and adorned in a silly design that somehow always managed to work perfectly with whatever Joel paired it with.

"Course," He assures you, "You need somethin'? 'Cause you know if things aren't alright at home you're welcome to stay with us."

He’s not amiss to notice just how much time you spend here and no one bothers to come around and check on you. Given you were an adult, it was still glaringly obvious you escaped here for a reason.

Joel reaches out to touch your cheek, the warmth of his skin melding with your own as your breath catches in your throat.

Touch wasn't new, but it never got old. Like a brand against your skin that screamed out for more. You look down briefly, mouth opening slightly to say something, but quickly resigns back to its previous position, lips pursed under a soft scowl.

"I can take care of you," Joel reminds, like you could ever fucking forget it, written all over your features and the outfits you wore now, the dainty gold chain that he'd leant to you as a gift when you pointed out how much you liked it—he'd bought it for himself but there was no resistance in offering over it over to you, bright smile stretching across your face in the moment that Joel felt a sickening addiction to, "—if that's what you need, sweetheart."

You nod instinctively, though you’re not sure what you’re answering too.

“We’ve got a spare room,” Your bottom lip pulls between your teeth, the huskiness to his voice shouldn’t feel intimate speaking such meaningless words, “plenty of room for you, alright?”

“Mhm,” You answer weakly, feeling the distance start to close as Joel tries—really fucking tries to fight it, but he can’t help the way his eyes track the way your body responds to his teach, lip trembling when you release it from it’s hold between your teeth, “thank you, Joel.”

“For?” Your heart is racing, terrified of being caught but also enticed by how openly Joel is admiring you, eyes wide with adoration and curiousness, something undiscovered and new to him.

“Taking care of me.” You echo his words, but you’re both quickly retching away at the sound of a door creaking upstairs, separating in an instant.

This was all you had—fleeting moments that would never be.

The logistics are complicated to figure out at first, but finishing up the last few weeks of schooling away from the stress of being at home and somewhere where you could actually focus outside of school made the most sense. You pack a big enough bag to last you through the month, clothes and personal belongings you care about, and make the small guest room your new home.

At least, as much as you could.

Luckily, your final classes are a breeze—thankful that most of your discipline with studying had paid off, you and Sarah would graduate in another couple weeks and allow yourself a real break over the summer before deciding how you both wanted to continue. More schooling or not, you would handle that later—for now, you let your mind rest.

And Sarah, well, she escapes the first chance she gets—the first official day free of responsibilities she’s running off for a weekend vacation with her boyfriend, assuring she didn’t mind you tagging along if you wanted to come, but you could see it on her face—she wanted privacy.

So, you had no problem staying back.

A weekend alone—with Joel? Who could barely keep his eyes off of you know that you were around constantly, even in the early mornings when he’d walk through the kitchen shirtless and fumbling with the old coffee pot he refused to get rid of. It was a side to him you hadn’t seen much of and it was slowly etching itself into your memory.

Everything implodes the first night that Sarah is gone, unknowingly yet not unwelcome. But, it’s a turning point neither of you can come back from.

It’s undeniable the amount of boiling sexual tension that has stirred between you both between Joel’s heated gaze and scandalizing comments, stuff that he tries to hold in but fails when he sees how easily of an effect it has on you.

So, as luck would have it, your restless minds meet again.

Joel stops between his open bedroom door and the wall, watching as you approach quietly, smiling kindly as you reach for the door to the guest room, bidding him a soft goodnight.

He could spend his night writhing in bed, hand around his cock as he jerked himself to the thought of you a few feet over, nestled under your sheets—unbeknownst to him, relieving yourself in a similar way and yearning for the stretch of him rather than your measly fingers. It used to relieve the ache and help you sleep, but now it made things impossibly worse.

His fingers encircle your wrist quick, but carefully, silence your ultimate downfall as you stare over at him curiously, his eyes pleading something so desperate it roots itself into your own mind. Like an invisible string tethered to your bodies, it pulls you both together instinctively.

He doesn’t hesitate with touch now, slowly barricading his hands against the side of your neck, gradually working to cradle your head, tipping your head back as he leaned in, not willing himself to cross that line unless you allowed it. He knew the second you stepped over he was done for, similarly, you knew that to be true for yourself.

“Tell me to stop,” Joel begs, “—tell me and I’ll give this up.”

You double down, pressing your face against his own, nose pressing against each other, speaking against his lips in a venomous tone that seeps into his bloodstream.

“No,” You tell him, steadfast and unwavering, “I don’t think I will.”

Joel breathes in sharply before his reverence is breaking, pressing you up against the solidness of the guest room door and crashing his lips against your own, his grip bruising as he palms at your thighs, hooking a leg around his hip as he grinds into you, the feeling dulled out by layers of fabric but you can still feel him. He’s hard and straining against the soft fabric and making no attempt to hide how much you affected him.

“We’re makin’ a big mistake,” Joel says into your mouth, pulling your bottom lip between his teeth to prove his point, pulling a sharp moan from your chest at the slight sting, “you realize that?”

You find your courage and part from him briefly, open palm rubbing against the line of his cock, slowly trailing up and under his shirt, blunt nails clawing into the stomach, the muscle tensing under your skin, “I’m well aware—are you gonna stand here and have a moral dilemma about it or are you going to fuck me, Mr. Miller?”

It ignites a fury behind his eyes, ravenous and wild. He grips your face tightly, tilting your head up at a slightly uncomfortable angle, pussy clenching around absolutely nothing from the show of dominance, the grin spreading across your face all Joel needed to confirm his suspicions about you.

You enjoyed this—him, the little game you’ve allowed him to play over the past few weeks. And just as he’d said before, he wanted to take care of you—in as many ways possible.

“Say it again,” He warns, squeezing your cheeks together between his tight grip on your face, “—fuckin’ say it.”

“Mr. Miller,” You drone sweetly, best you can through his sturdy grip, “—hm, is that what you want to hear? Is that what gets off at night?”

Joel’s eyes squint slightly, attempting to read your expression. How would you know?

“Always want me to call you Joel because Mr. Miller is just too much, right?” You tease, “I guess you could lie to me, but the look on your face says otherwise.”

The back of your head drops softly against the door, nowhere to go as Joel has you crowded, hand tight on the doorknob and unmoving. You’re trapped and you can’t be bothered to care.

His hand trails to your neck gradually and squeezes, eyes rolling into the back of your head briefly as his jaw clenches, teeth gritting together as he bares them and speaks, “Should’ve guessed you’d like it like this, huh?”

You feign cluelessness, eyes half-lidded and staring back defiantly, swallowing against the solid hand he held against your neck.

“Tell me you want it,” Joel presses, feeling how mutely you attempt to press against hold and fail, “need to hear you say it first.”

“What? That I want you cock, Joel?” You say vivaciously, grinning at how his mouth twitches at your words, cooing out a soft, “Because I do.”

And that’s all the confession Joel needs before he’s breaking the barrier and shoving you inside the guest room, slamming the door closed behind him with a foot as he tracks and approaches you, hauling you from the back of your thighs as your ass hits the bed, scooting back slightly and spreading your legs to allow him to slot perfectly between them.

The fabric of your shirt bunches in his hands as pushes it up and away, lips pressing hotly against your stomach, mouthing at the skin greedily, quickly forcing the shirt up your shoulders until you get the idea and rip the shirt over your head, bare breasts bouncing against the jostling of your body. Joel has half the mind to gawk before he’s latching his mouth around your nipple, biting gently at the flesh despite his choice to be more aggressive than you expected. It’s the right amount of too soft and too much, your fingers curling into his hair at the root and pulling, earning a soft groan in response.

His curls fall freely over his eyes from where he’s looking up at you, lips lingering against your breast tantalizingly, “Let me taste you.” He tells you, his fingers dancing along the hem of your bottoms, his body descending as you find yourself nodding absently, helping him in the impatient push and pull until he has you naked and bare before him, his cock straining prominently against the thin material of his pants, rubbing himself through the fabric as he uses his free hand to spread you wide, marveling at the sight of your slick over the lips of your cunt.

Joel settles against the sheets, broad shoulders supporting your thighs as he adjusts them over him and hovers closely of your cunt, waiting for your eyes to connect in a brief moment of confirmation

You wanted this. And so did he.

He remains wide-eyed as his lips connecting with your cunt, straight for your aching clit as he sucks, flicking his tongue over the sensitive spot with a precision that has you falling slack against the sheets, mouth open in a blissful agony as Joel works away at your pussy like he’s had a million years to study it, his fingers digging into the flesh of your thighs as you continue to pull and twist at his hair, selfishly grinding yourself against his face.

He never breaks his gaze on your face, even when you find yourself with your head thrown back, staring up at the ceiling mindlessly, admiring the hurried rise and fall of your chest as you moan out something intelligible, slowly beginning to make sense in his hazy mind, “Oh—right—right there, Joel. Fuck, please—” You beg sweetly, feeling weightless as he lowers his mouth to your neglected hole and licks inside, his nose pressing perfectly against your clit.

“C’mon, baby,” He murmurs against your pussy, “keep talkin’, let me hear you.”

You sigh in exasperation, feeling the burgeoning ache of your impending climax, “Faster—” Joel is an astute listener, never missing a beat as he picks up his pace and adds more pressure, “–shit, I’m gonna—”

Joel silences you with his eagerness to make you come, words falling flat as he assales your clit with a determination to have you coming against his mouth, feeling the muscles spasm as you crying out his name in desperation, orgasming over his greedy tongue as he laps you up synonymously, forcing your body into overstimulation until you have to physically force him away.

Joel doesn’t have half the mind to speak, eyes darkened to near black as he rises to remove his shirt, pants and underwear following quickly after, undressing under your hazy gaze as you try to calm your rapidly beating heart before he’s fisting himself tightly, tip of his cock rubbing against the line of your pussy and catching your entrance, using the last bit of restraint he had left.

He should be courteous and ask about protection—but there’s a heat behind your eyes when you see his thoughts wandering, quickly snuffing out any worries. You reach gently for the hand not fisting his cock, cradling your knee gently, “We’re safe.” You assure him, the first moment of deep, unsettling reality as he realizes the weight of his choices before him—he’s already committed a few atrocities he knows he can’t come back from, so, what was a few more?

And he couldn’t say no to you, not with you staring up at him so wantonly, eyes pleading something desperate and meek, curious if this was all just a heat of the moment thing. Partly, it was—but this was months upon months of built up tension finally spilling into reality.

Joel isn’t sweet either, as he presses inside you. It shouldn’t surprise you, his impatient nature as he pulls you in close, hands gripping under your thighs and manhandling you until your folded nearly in half, hips pistoning sharp and rough, his gaze locked on the sight of himself disappearing inside of you, the sheen of your slick over his cock as you suck him in greedily.

“Come on, baby,” He grunts roughly, “keep showin’ me how good I make you feel. Show me how grateful you are.”

As if it wasn’t already obvious, obscene noises, feeling the quiet air as you sob out, feeling the angle change as he shifts his knee by your ass, angling your hips up slightly.

“Thank—thank you,” You say softly, broken as he snaps his hips roughly, hitting something sensitive inside of you, the coiling heat in your stomach rebuilding quickly, “thankyouthankyouthankyou,” You ramble mindlessly.

Mesmerized, you watch his curls bounce freely over his forehead, overgrown hair sticking to his skin from the soft sheen of sweat, the muscles in his broad shoulders straining as he holds your legs prisoner in his grips, hips aching dully from the unusual angle but you ignore it. He’s locked onto your pussy for a long stretch of time, entranced until he hears your soft moans, realizing you’ve been admiring him this whole time, eyes locking on you in a moment of vulnerability as he speaks directly to you, hips slowing to a manageable, but still slightly overwhelming pace.

“Always—know how to appreciate things, isn’t that right?” Joel asks, the redundancy not lost on you, “Take everything I give you and never ask. Never greedy—just lettin’ me spoil you.”

“Joel—” You whine, his hand slowly trailing the path to your joined bodies, thumb circling slowly over your clit briefly, “—harder, fuck me—harder.”

“But, look at you now—so fuckin’ greedy for my cock,” He’s speaking through a slight groan, releasing the straining hold on your thighs as he falls, spreading his legs out and using his arms for support as he holds himself over you, hands fisting into the sheets beside your head, “gonna make me cum, baby.”

You find yourself desperate for touch now, wrapping your arms around his neck until he’s nearly chest to chest, forehead resting against your own as you whimper into his open mouth, “I want it.”

Joel makes a small noise of question, “Want what, baby?”

“Your cum,” You reply softly, watching the way his pupils dilate at your words, “—please?”

Joel groans involuntarily, feeling the dignified squeeze of your walls around his cock.

“Where?” He asks slightly breathless, panting into your mouth.

You reach blindly for his hand, using his pointer and middle finger to breach your lips, pressing flat against your tongue, “Right here.” You mumble around the thick digits.

It’s the first thing you’ve ever explicitly asked for and who was Joel to deny that.

Joel pulls out quickly, rising on his knees as you push up to rest on your palms, his head hung back as he fucks himself into his hand harshly, a few short pumps and he’s pressing the aching tip of his cock over your tongue, spilling into your mouth with a deep growl, forced through clenched teeth, working himself through the aftershock as he squeezes out the last bit of cum he has to offer into your waiting mouth, forcing your mouth closed with his opposite hand and watching as you tilted your neck up and swallowed, tongue peeking out playfully as you show him your empty mouth.

You have half the mind to think he’s finished, but instead he’s swatting your thigh as he maneuvers your hips until you realize he’s silently asking you to turn over, quickly situating your ass in the air with his strong, domineering grip—burying his face into your cunt without a moment of hesitation, a gasp ripping from your throat. Your hips pull away instinctively out of shock, earning a sharp slap by Joel’s hand against your oversensitive cunt.

“Stay still.” Joel demands.

You answer softly, a pathetic acknowledgement and nod, obeying his order.

“Good girl,” He coos, muffled against your cunt, “Come for me, baby—you’re right there, I can feel it.”

There’s little resistance as his tongue swipes over your clit, sending you into a shorter but immensely more consuming second orgasm, feeling yourself lose consciousness for a brief moment as you sob into the sheets.

“Fuck.” Joel sighs as he rests back on his calves, cock softening between his thighs as you roll onto your back gingerly, thighs shaking from strain, feeling Joel’s comforting touch on the aching muscles as you close your eyes, letting the reality of the situation set in.

You laugh giddily, “Yeah, fuck.”

Neither of you address the glaring issue of what just took place and somehow, that feels like the biggest atrocity to be committed.

Secrets weren’t something you used to harbor, but it seemed like that was all you had now.

Sneaking off with Joel, lying to Sarah—it was the last thing you wanted to do. But, you and Joel had each other in an equally debilitating grip that neither of you could loosen up on.

And with secrets came gifts, more and more outrageous as time went on—big ticket items that had you fearing that, at some point, Joel would drop something like a new car on you—and that, for what it was worth, would help you. But, it was nothing you wanted.

Sex started to feel transactional after a few more weeks, graduation creeping on you.

Joel never lacked in care and attentiveness, but there was this nagging feeling in the back of your mind, like you were this unattainable prize he was paying for and you were eating right out of the palm of his hand.

But, then graduation day approaches and Joel is acting odd.

So odd that it unsettles you. He’s there, along with his brother and his small family, cheering as loud for you as he does for Sarah, the obvious absence from your own family never lost on you or him. Then, night approaches.

He’d decided that throwing a party for the both of you in celebration was a good idea, just a small party with very few friends and he swore—swore that there was nothing else up his sleeve until he’s pulling you and Sarah off together, away from the party and there is a pair of matching, new cars parked in the driveway.

Sarah, given she already has everything she wants, is still thankful. It’s the one thing she had been trying to save up for herself, without the help of her dad. So, while she could be upset, she isn’t. She knows Joel’s intentions are good and that he’s just trying to be a good father—which is all he’s ever been for her.

But, for you, it stings.

You linger, settled a few feet away against his beater of a truck, staring at the car like it was an eyesore.

She doesn’t like it. She hates it, Joel thinks.

You thanked him regardless, but refused the keys. Joel had stuffed them into his pocket and allowed you the space you wanted, eyes pleading quietly. Sarah had hugged you gently, kind words left in your ear before she departed back inside.

“You’re like family,” She says with genuine love, “and he has more money than he knows what to do with—so honestly, just take it. You deserve it more than anyone.”

And that hurts worse, knowing that you’ve been lying to her for months.

You weren’t family. Not to Joel. You were something much more convoluted and dangerous.

A drug. A trap. Something he couldn’t rid himself of, not that he desired to. But, he knew—once you were embedded into his life, it would be nearly impossible to get you out.

–

Joel finds you a while later, away from the party and beyond eyesight from the house, curled up against the front end of the truck and picking away at some of the ripped denim of your jeans, counting the frayed pieces. He takes a similar position, sitting next to you silently.

“You don’t have to take it,” He tells you, “but, it is paid for—”

“Joel, please—”

“What?” Joel asks suddenly, his own annoyance getting the better of him, “What am I doing wrong?”

“Joel—we have sex, you buy me something ridiculous. Or, you buy me something ridiculous without my knowledge and then we end up having sex, how does that look to you?”

“Now, I’m not doing that because of sex—”

“But, you see how it looks? How it makes me feel?” You argue with him, “Joel, I can’t help how I feel about you, like—it feels physically impossible, but the constant gifts makes this seem transactional. I don’t want that. I’m already a secret, I don’t need to be bought either.”

Joel shakes his head in silent disbelief, “You really think that’s how I view you? That’s it?”

“You haven’t tried very hard to make me think otherwise, Joel.” You tell him honestly, “I don’t need you showering me with cars and clothes and shit that I don’t need—and if that’s what you feel like you need to do, I don’t want to do…whatever this is anymore.”

Fucking him, sneaking around in secret. You weren’t dating, but it sure fucking felt like it. One intimate moment from a love confession that would seal the deal on your perception of him.

Joel kicks at the gravel as he rises to his feet, pulling you up by your forearm, an immediate look of both confusion and frustration crossing your features as he turns you and presses your chest against the front of his truck, shadowed by the cover of night. His belt clanks together loudly as he undoes his jeans behind you, tucking them far down enough he can pull his cock from the confines of his underwear, lifting up the hem of your dress and yanking your own underwear down your legs and off, and you should stop him—but you don’t want to.

This was the problem. You couldn’t get enough of Joel.

He slips inside of you with ease, pulling a sharp gasp from your chest that he stifles with his hand, clasped over your mouth, fucking into you with a reverance that was new.

“Joel—we’refuck—we can’t here,” You try to say, yanking his hand away from your mouth, “we’ll get caught.”

Joel grips the base of your neck roughly, fingers curling around the sides as he tilts your head back and looks into your eyes, other hand coming around the bottom of your chin until you’re forced to look up and back at him, not a single speck of warm brown in sight. He looked angry.

But, it didn’t feel like it was directed toward you. Regardless, he fucked you like he was.

“I’ll return the fuckin’ car,” He starts to ramble, “I’ll return everything if that makes you think differently. God—” He snaps his hips harshly, earning a broken sob from you as you reach behind you blindly for something to anchor yourself on, fingers twisting into the fabric of his shirt, “—never want you to think this is transactional, baby. It never—never was.”

Never would be, you want him to say.

“Whaddya want me to say?” Joel asks before you can speak, “That I care about you—baby, I fuckin’ do. I thought that was obvious. Know—know I shouldn’t, that it’s wrong, but I knew—”

You gasp raggedly, his hand leaving your chin to find your clit, just the right amount of pressure to have your hands clawing at his skin, head resting back against his shoulder as he fucked into you.

“And I’ll keep this a secret if—if it means I can have you but this isn’t transactional,” He continues to speak, despite your inability, tipping over the edge of your orgasm as his hips stutter slightly, “it never will be.”

That—that was what you needed to hear. Pulling him taut against you as he buried his mouth into the junction of your neck and nipped, biting at the skin roughly but not enough to break skin.

“Come inside me,” You gasp, chest rising and falling quickly, “please—Joel, please?”

“You like when I fuck you like this, don’t you?” Joel teases, “Never ask for anything but my cum—greedy girl,” You moan at his words, spurring him even further, “tell me baby, tell me how much you want it.”

“So bad,” You whine, “Joel, please give it to me—fuck—all of it, please?”

Joel snaps his hips a few more times before his hand is releasing your neck, crossing over your chest and squeezing tightly at your breast as he pulses inside of you, pumping his hips and filling you full of his spend.

Joel kisses at the exposed skin of your shoulder, pulling out with a soft grunt, the slow jingle of metal sounding behind you as you reached for the underwear he offered you, slipping it back up your legs and into place, despite how Joel’s cum dripped out of you, something he makes point of as his fingers drag along the material, causing you gasp softy at his touch, swatting his hand away. He chuckles lowly at the annoyed glare you shoot his way.

Joel shifts your hips until you turn in his grip, back pressing against cool metal. He crowds you in again, leaving you feeling breathless as he grips your face, but his touch is surprisingly tender.

“What do we say?” He says softly, lips pressing against your own.

“Thank you,” You retort sarcastically, capturing his lips in a quick, bruising kiss as you card your fingers into his hair at the base of his neck, pulling gently, “this doesn’t change anything—I don’t want the car.”

“You don’t have to take it,” Joel settles, “but it’ll be here if you need it.”

You pull away further, looking at him endearingly, watching as his eyes flick briefly toward the house.

“What do we do–about this?” You ask quietly, afraid someone might be listening in despite being alone, “About…whatever this is.”

“Hey,” Joel assures gently, “don’t worry about that—not tonight.”

“Joel—” You plead, eyes searching desperately into his own.

“I care about you, that’s all you need to worry about.” Joel speaks truthfully, his thumb rubbing along the line of your jaw as you swallow, muscles tense under his touch.

And you’re wondering if he’s just saying what you want to her—that maybe this was still a game to him and he was letting you feed into it, nodding to his confession. Joel is all in, offering you his metaphorical hand.

You sigh shakily, “Okay—I trust you.” So please, don’t let me down.

And you know things will eventually implode, but you intend to hold on the brief moment of hope you have now, safe under his gaze as he leads you back to the house, everyone blissfully unaware of the moments you’ve shared, leaving you resigned to appreciate the greedy looks his shares with you across the room.

It was a dangerous game, but you were willing to take the risks.

#joel miller #joel miller smut #joel miller x reader #joel miller x you #joel miller x y/n #the last of us fanfiction #tlou fanfiction #joel miller fanfiction #joel miller fic #bfd!joel #pedro pascal characters #pedrostories #my writing

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runnning-outof-time · 8 months

Note

Omggg congrats on 3.5k!! That’s incredible! Duuuude this short prompt blurb challenge is gonna blow up! For me, would you be open to doing one with Tommy, using the prompt sentence, “Look at me right now”? He sure can be demanding when he wants something lolol🥰🥵again, congratulations dear! You deserve all the love!

Oh thank you so much for sending this in @tragiclotus ! You’re so right - he really can be! I hope you like what I did with this, and that you’ve been enjoying the blurbs I’ve been sharing! Enjoy! :)

PLEASE LET ME KNOW WHAT YOU THINK!

Part of my 3.5k celebration — find more stories here!

No One But You

Tommy Shelby x Reader

Warnings: self-doubt, worry of past lovers returning…nothing too major

Word Count: 1018

Summary: Tommy assures (Y/N) that she’s the only woman he wants after two women from his past reappear in his life.

She must’ve read the return address a dozen times. Why? She didn’t know. It wasn’t like reading it again was going to make the sender’s name change. But yet she did anyway.

(Y/N) knew who Grace was. She’d heard about her; knew what she’d done to Tommy and his family. So why the hell was she sending him letters now?

At first she spoke to Polly, who told her to hide them. As a clerk at the postmaster’s office, she’d make sure to bring any mail the Shelbys received with her whenever she’d come to visit her boyfriend. When she’d arrive at Watery Lane, she’d follow the older woman’s suggestion and promptly slip the envelope into one of the side table’s drawers; hoping that Tommy wouldn’t find them there. But they just kept coming.

And now as she was walking to Watery Lane with what was the fifth letter Grace had sent, she didn’t know if she could keep up with hiding them. So instead she kept it in her hands, re-reading it until she heard the door open.

She stood to her feet at the sound and walked over to greet her boyfriend, accepting his kiss and shoulder squeeze as a greeting. Tommy knew something was wrong the second he pulled away. (Y/N) wasn’t wearing her usual, welcoming smile. Instead, her expression was blank.

“Has something happened?” he asked her, his brows furrowing together.

“This came in to the post today,” she answered him, extending her hand to hold the envelope out between them.

Tommy’s brows furrowed deeper as he scanned over the words written on the envelope.

“Why does she keep writing you?” (Y/N) couldn’t stop herself from asking, desperate to know why he was still receiving letters from her.

She and Tommy had entered a relationship only five months ago, but she was no stranger to the life that he lived and the company he’d kept in the past. Tommy Shelby was sought after by many, and somehow she’d gotten lucky…or at least that’s what she kept telling herself. No matter how many times his actions reassured her that he was hers alone, that nagging seed of doubt still crept into her mind. Like it was doing now.

“I don’t know why,” he answered with a shake of his head, “I haven’t spoken to her since she left for New York.”

“She’s written to you five times,” (Y/N) couldn’t withhold the information any longer. Tommy’s brows furrowed again upon hearing her admission, so she decided to elaborate: “Polly said that I shouldn’t give them to you; that I should hide them instead. They’re in the side table. I don’t know why I listened to her. I just…I couldn’t bring myself to give them to you.”

Tommy looked down at the letter and back to (Y/N), seeing that she was now biting on her lip, a nervous tendency of hers that he’d noticed fairly early into their relationship.

“May Carleton also came to meet you last week…” she spoke again after silence had hung in the air for a few moments.

“She needed to speak about the horse,” he answered in a nonchalant manner, not thinking much more of the meeting he had with the other woman.

(Y/N), of course, was overthinking it.

“Hey…” Tommy brought her out of her thoughts, making her focus on him again. “I can see you fighting with yourself. Let those thoughts go.”

“I can’t…I just can’t help but wonder if maybe, if maybe that, that with them coming back…” she tried to speak but her mind betrayed her, and the lump that formed in her throat stopped her from speaking altogether.

Not much more was needed to connect the dots though. The clues had been dropped and Tommy was quick enough to pick them up and place them in order. “Those women are in the past, (Y/N). You’re the one I want,” he spoke with sincereity, hoping that it’d quell the thoughts swirling around her mind.

(Y/N) held eye contact with him until she couldn’t anymore. She felt those worries still bubbling up inside of her, even though he’d just flat out told her that he wanted her. She dropped her gaze to her fingers, watching as she picked at her nails.

“(Y/N)…” Tommy tried to get her attention, but to no avail. “Look at me right now,” he went another route, using his index and middle finger to raise her eyes to his again. He could see that they were watery now, and he hated that she was thinking so far into this. He took her cheeks into his hands, pulling her the slightest bit closer to him before speaking again. “There’s no one but you, ok? You’re the one I want to be with. You’re the one I want,” he reiterated his point, his eyes searching hers as he spoke. “Ok?” he asked again after she hadn’t spoken in a few moments.

“Ok,” (Y/N) breathed out, nodding her head the best she could with it held in his hands. She closed her eyes for a moment and took a deep breath, hoping to steady herself. When she opened them again, they immediately hooked onto Tommy’s intense blue ones. “I’m sorry, Tommy,” she felt that she had to apologize.

“Don’t be,” he shook his head slightly at her statement, “there’s no reason for you to be sorry, love.”

“But I…”

“No,” he cut her off, “I’m going to burn this letter, and any other letter that comes. You’re the one I want, (Y/N).”

A small smile formed on her face at his words. She reached out and gently ran the back of her hand down his cheek, watching as his eyes dropped to her lips. Knowing what was coming next, she closed her eyes, leaning in slightly and meeting him in the middle, their lips finding each other’s in a passionate kiss that rid her mind of all of her doubts.

“No one but you, love,” Tommy whispered against her lips before kissing them again.

Tagged: @mystcldydrms @the-anxious-youth @cloudofdisney @look-at-the-soul @elenavampire21 @mrsalwayswrite @julkaamazing @evita-shelby @lilyrachelcassidy @notyour-valentine @shelbydelrey @theshelbyslimited @peakyswritings @just-a-blackhole @watercolorskyy @strayrockette @peakyduchesss @alexxavicry @captivatedbycillianmurphy @yummycastiel @dark-academia-slut @tommystargirl @stevie75 @lyarr24 @signorellisantichrist @zablife @anotherblinder @midnightmagpiemama @cillmequick @rangerelik @dandelionprints @letal-y-poetica @gypsy-girl-08 @insanitybyanothername @depxiety @raincoffeeandfandoms @dragons-are-my-favorite @youtifulsunshinelixfics @forgottenpeakywriter @cljordan-imperium @areyenotfondofmelobster @little-diable @thomashelbyswife @iambored24601 @shaddixlife

MASTERLIST

#tommy shelby #tommy shelby x reader #tommy shelby x y/n #tommy shelby blurb #tommy shelby fanfic #tommy shelby fanfiction #peaky blinders #peaky blinders x reader #peaky blinders x y/n #peaky blinders blurb #peaky blinders fanfic #peaky blinders fanfiction #fanfiction #fanfic #k’s 3.5k celebration

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romanoffsbish · 1 year

Text

Attachment Issues

Natasha Romanoff x F!R

Request | Prompts

“Ooh, you’re not wearing any underwear. Trying to tell me something?”

Your wife just can’t get enough of you.

“Warnings”: Clingy Natty

Smut: Mommy (N), Shower Sex, Oral (R), High-Tech Cum Strap (R). Teasing, Overstimulation, Breeding, Squirting. Jello Legs.

Natasha whined upon waking up to find your side of the bed was empty, she immediately smushed her face into your pillow as she sought your presence, you were her comfort. When her skin touched the fabric she grinned, it was warm, so you couldn't be far, and when she heard the water start running she followed suit, her eager feet taking her right to you.

You didn't even flinch at the door hitting the wall from the overzealous way she pushed it open, you'd clearly been expecting her. Natasha approached you fast, her cold hands sliding beneath your baggy shirt so that she could intimately feel your body. Her hands were innocent for all of two seconds as her fingers swirled around your belly button, then she suddenly dropped lower, and your already sketchy resolve dissolved into shambles.

A shiver ran down your spine when her hot breaths suddenly fanned across your skin, "Ooh, you're not wearing any underwear," the woman purred against the nape of your neck, "Trying to tell me something krasivaya?"

——

You snorted, "Well, it's a common occurrence when someone is getting into the shower."

She smirked. "Would you like some company?"

"Nat," you tried to sound threatening, but as she nibbled on your earlobe your words came out breathlessly, "I have a meeting in an hour."

"You're adorable," she coo'd. You gasped when she abruptly spun you to face her, the way she looked into your eyes felt almost dangerous. "We both know I only need ten minutes to fuck you dumb, any longer and you'd be back in bed with me, which is where you belong anyway."

Before you could protest Natasha pulled you in for a passionate kiss, her teeth dragged your lower lip down, her tongue licked over your teeth, and like an obedient bitch you parted them. Her tongue seamlessly slid over yours, making you desperate for more in seconds, then like a sadist she pulled away completely.

Your body swayed forward at the abrupt loss of pleasure, and Natasha bit back her laughter.

"But you have a mission," she sighed with a sad smile, perfectly hiding the mischievous grin that reflected her intent, her tone then became mockingly stern, "We can't upset the Director."

"Fuck Fury," you proclaimed, tone desperate and she looked at you in mock horror, "That's disgusting, but I wouldn't mind fucking you."

"Please," you didn't care how desperate you sounded, her sneaky hands already felt the heat radiating from between your legs, "I need you mommy, need you so badly, touch me."

"Oh you pretty little thing," the redhead pinned you to the tile besides the tub, her hands lifted your shirt off your body, leaving you exposed to the brutal, cold morning air that was streaming in through the crack in your bathroom door.

Natasha's eyes twinkled with delight as your body reacted, her thumbs rolled over your pert nipples, "Mommy please!" Natasha smirked at your outburst, "Climb on in, I'm behind you."

The redhead slid out of the bathroom, you bit your lip in subtle frustration knowing what she was doing, so you made work of cleaning your hair, and body to possibly save yourself time. You already knew this likely ended with your shaking legs, it always did; you're not leaving.

Honestly, you're shocked Fury hasn't come by to collect you yet, at this point your wife has been holding you hostage. The honeymoon era never came to an end for her, two years into the marriage and she never grew tired of you. As endearing as that was, you did still have an active job with Shield, as did she, and the lack of your presence at meetings was widely seen.

Natasha stealthily slipped in as you were facing away from the icy glass doors, you were rinsing your hair of your final product when you felt her arms wrap around your waist, she roughly pulled your back flush to her front and you whimpered as her strap slapped your skin.

"So desperate," she tutted in amusement as you shamelessly pressed yourself into her. "And to think you acted like you didn't want this."

"Oh fuck," you moaned as her nimble fingers traced over your slit, one of them barely grazed over your clit but your legs instantly trembled.

Natasha carefully brought her fingers up, ensuring the evidence of your arousal didn't get washed away. "Look at that detka," she held her glistening fingers off to the side of the streaming water, and shimmied them about.

"Tell me how much you need me baby," she rocked her hips into your backside and you pitifully whimpered, "Mommy, please, I-I."

"I know you want mommy's cock baby." She spun you around, and smiled maniacally at you, "but I need to taste you first." She dropped to her knees, paying no mind to the pain in her bones, she threw your leg over her shoulder and mumbled, "and you need to work for it."

The second her tongue teasingly licked at your folds you were done for, you screamed out in ecstasy, and Natasha sped up her pace at the wordless compliment to her ministrations. If there was one thing your wife was good at, it was making you forget why you were ever upset with only a few flicks of her tongue.

Every filthy moan or whimper the redhead pulled from your lips was like currency. The more you gave her the closer she came to standing up and railing you into the tiles.

"Mmm," the redhead was pleasantly addicted to your essence, she hardly went a day without your slick's aroma sinking into the skin of her face. Catching whiffs of you throughout the day honestly kept her going, so as she finds herself buried between your thighs she never once ceased her movements. She needed to make you cum, she lived for the glorious moment.

Natasha peered up at you in awe, seeing you so close made her feral for your release. "Let go," Natasha murmured desperately against your sensitive folds, "Make a mess of me my love!" Her tongue seamlessly slid up your slit, slowly she swirled around your clit, your thighs shook then your knees nearly buckled when she went full throttle and sucked it between her teeth.

"I'm going to ruin you detka," she growled out as she kissed up your body, "You can't go on a mission if your legs are out of commission."

For a moment the lust faded, and you groaned, "That was so corny Nat." She chuckled, happy enough that you found her rhyme humorous.

"You love it." You reluctantly nodded and she beamed, her lips then lovingly grazing over yours before she pulled away with a wild look in her eye, "Focus on mommy now krasivaya." With a suave hand she raised your leg up to rest on her hip, bringing you right back to the moment as she wore that cocky smirk of hers.

You whimpered and dug your heel into her lower back, the bulbous tip of her strap pressed firmly against your quivering hole, and the redhead caught your moans of surprise with her lips to yours as her hips rocked forward and sheathed her cock between your walls.

For the sake of your comfort she took her time making out with you, letting you become used to her newest strap; it was red, her signature color, with a wide girth and ridges for veins.

"Are you ready for me to move?" You nodded, your hands instantly gripped at her body for stability. Natasha's hands fell to your hips, and her lips took residence on your heated skin, nibbling gently while her hips contradicted her hips that ruthlessly slammed into yours.

"Look at you detka," Natasha grunted, "So fucking drunk on my cock that you're no longer worried about your silly meeting, how cute."

You weren't even embarrassed as you begged, "Harder please!" Your nails dug into the skin of her ass as you now held onto the plump flesh, a tactic of sorts to hint her thrusts to reach even deeper, and the redhead snorted, "That's a good idea detka, we can’t have your legs work."

After your orgasm suddenly tore through you, effectively sending your entire body into a frenzy of spasms you'd think she'd pull away satisfied, but she didn't; she never, ever did.

Instead she slid out of you, just to spin your body around and slam back into you from behind. Your front smashed into the grey tiles, a cooled layer of condensation covered the shower wall, and that had your entire body sliding against the surface as she fucked you.

"I have a surprise for you," Natasha panted against your neck, her hands now kneading at your breasts as she pulled you flush into her. You groaned as she pushed further into you, but stilled her movements so she could fill you in. “Mommy’s new cock is extra special.”

Natasha hips picked up again, her renewed thrusts were slower, but deliciously deepened and you cried wantonly against her lips when her next whisper permeated your mind, “Mommy’s gonna shoot her hot load into you, you’re gonna love it baby, I had a friend of mine create this off of my charitable design.”

After five years of sex with your now wife you couldn’t believe you were feeling like this. It was a level of euphoria you’d never quite experienced before. It was as if you were out of body, all of your limbs felt heavy, but you never fell because Natasha cherished you too much.

Natasha somehow always finds a way to spice up the sex life you thought was perfected. This whole situation was brought to fruition due to a conversation in the throws of it all. You’d begged her to fuck a baby into you, and she lost complete control of her body at the thought.

The idea of you carrying her child, a delusional thought as she’s barren, made her obsessively determined to bring the fantasy to life. Tony offered up his finest lab tech, himself after she threatened him, and voila—a high tech strap.

“Oh mommy please,” you were so fucking desperate, “Fill me up, I need to feel you.”

Natasha pressed a button on her apple watch, and as her breath became increasingly labored you knew the strap was mutually vibrating. A brief flash of blurry numbers told you it was a timer of sorts, and you were too fuzzy brained to understand the implications. Natasha had only thrusted into you harsher now, she had to grip your hips between her hands

The redheads muscles ached, but it was the pleasurable kind as she gripped your hips and fucked into you with no abandon, as if she had no manners. Your face repeatedly hit the wall as your arms were too weak to respond to your minds request to lean against the tiles, you knew you were going to have a tender face come tomorrow, but for now you didn’t mind.

Not at all… You genuinely loved the beautiful, aching reminders of your sinful escapades.

Natasha grunted when she felt her end of the strap push into her with a desirable tremble. Her teeth sunk into your shoulder as she lurched forward, her hand beside your ear began to vibrate, and after a few seconds you felt a warmth pulsating against your walls. You screamed hoarsely as the rounded tip pressed into the spot that always made you lose it, and as you felt your walls restrict her frantic thrusting you came hard, and then your brain factory reset when the strap head twitched and you were filled with a warm, sticky liquid.

“Fuck detka,” Natasha grinned devilishly against your skin, her tongue soothingly slid over the marks she’d left, “You’re trembling.”

Her words meant nothing to you as you were no longer cognizant. Drool trailed down your chin, and as she kept thrusting the faux cum deeply into you it was trailing up your cheek.

A pained groan left you, and Natasha lost her momentum at the idea of hurting you. She slowed down, but she didn’t exactly stop. A devious hand slid from your hip, over the bulge of your belly, and a nimble finger pressed into your neglected clit making you arch into her.

It wasn’t until you came again, a gush of warmth splattering the both of your thighs, that she brought everything to a stop. She softly kissed your shoulder as she pulled out, and lowered your feet back to the slip mat.

Sweet nothings were whispered into your ear as you continued to shake, but eventually that subsided, and the pressure of your body against her arms lessened enough to trust your tired body to hold you upright for a moment.

Your wife stepped out first, allowing you your moment to breathe as you slowly turned around and leaned back against the wall. She wrapped a towel around her body, then when you were ready to get out she was already holding your towel open with an adoring smile.

You shrieked, "Natasha," the redhead caught you as you fell over the lip of the tub, and as soon as she had you upright she lost her cool and began laughing. "It's not funny Nat! Fury's going to kill me, I can't miss another mission."

"Calm down," she chuckled, "He owes me a favor or two." You looked at her unimpressed. "Yeah, and what happens when they run out?"

"I've been trapped in a bunker with him before my love, the amount of blackmail I have on him could stretch an entire decade." She teased with an obnoxiously hot wink, you rolled your eyes, but decided to just give in, and lean into her comforting hold as she informed Fury in rushed whispers of your tenth cold of the year.

It was February…

After Natasha bid the director goodbye she turned to you with a cheeky smile, "I told you my love, I've got it." She danced giddily. "You're all mine for the rest of the month."

You shook your head with a short chuckle, "You're actually insane." She hummed, and pecked your lips, "And you love me anyway."

"That I do." She kissed you. “As do I.”

She made quick work to help you get dressed, you knew the day was far from over when she only slid a baggy tee of hers over your head before she carried you to the mussed up bed.

"Cuddle me!" She commanded, and you lazily rolled your eyes at her before opening your arms for her to nestle into. Your heart swelled at the way she sighed contently as soon as she was in your arms, it made you feel all warm inside knowing how much she loved you.

Then she had to ruin it, her hand slid beneath your shirt and rested over the swell of your ass. "Natasha," you groaned as she squeezed your flesh between her hands. "What? It's my stress ball, don't deprive me of my relief now baby."

"You're insatiable."

"Mhm," she never denied it, "So get your rest krasivaya, because mommy will be ready for another round after she takes a quick nap."

“Mommy,” you tiredly giggled, “I can’t wait for us to have our own precious baby, we’ll be the best moms around Natty.” You contentedly sighed as you nuzzled into her bare chest, and slipped off to sleep almost instantly, you didn’t even hear Natasha’s nasal, “Yes we would.” Or hear her sniffle softly. The redhead simply pulled you closer, and fell into a dream with the softest pitter pattering of feet as an echo.

By the end of this year Shield will see your paired retirement, and the world will have lost a hero, while your fetus gained a Super-Mom.

——

2,645 Words

♥️ Kaitlyn 🥹 (Yes, I know that last line was cheesy, but I am a fiend for cheese)

#natasha romanoff #natasha romanoff fanfiction #natasha romanoff imagine #natasha romanoff smut #natasha romanoff oneshot #natasha romanoff fluff #natasha romanoff x reader #natasha romanoff x female reader #natasha romanoff x y/n #natasha romanoff x you #gxg #black widow imagine #black widow smut #natasha x reader #natasha x y/n #natasha x you #natasha x fem!reader

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hsrockstargf · 4 months

Text

Object of Desire*

AN: this is my first time posting on here so please be gentle☺️

࿎࿎࿎࿎

summary: Honey Rose, one of the most sought after adult film actress, get picked to do a scene for director Harry Styes. What happens when she finds out that he will be the one doing the scene with her?

work count: 7.5k

tropes: pornstarry

warnings: 18+, language, explicit smut, fluff

══════════════════════

Lights, Camera, Action.

I’ve always wanted to hear those words be uttered before a scene- to feel the adrenaline rush as I make the script come to life. As a little kid I would whisper them to myself before I would put on a short skit for my grandma, and it made me feel like I was a real movie star. Now at 26 years old- I am the furthest thing from a movie star, but I guess an actress could be the term for my job.

The adrenaline that I love to feel rush through my veins is present as well as the nervousness that is making my hands sweat slightly. The possibilities of today swirl around my mind as I walk down the long corridor to meet the director of today’s shoot.

I never thought this is what I would be doing to keep a roof over my head and food in my belly, but I can’t say I’m disappointed. What started out as occasionally posing for a lingerie company to help me get through school turned into signing up for an OnlyFans and making $7,000 a week.

I never did anything too risque on my page, only posting pictures of me half naked without showing my face and occasionally taking a few requests from subscribers. My following grew exponentially and it continued until I didn’t know how to manage all of the content people were asking me to film.

A few months ago, a manger reached out to me wanting to represent me. Although this was a far fetch from the job I’ve always wanted, I couldn’t turn it down. Having sex in front of a camera with a whole team watching you and a million more waiting to see it with a person you barely know is scary and intimidating- but I took the job anyway. I like the money and sometimes the sex is actually quite enjoyable when I can get out of my own head.

This particular job came as a surprise to both me and my manager. Usually, my manager would reach out to a filming company, give them my head shots, and then wait to hear back if they wanted to use me for the scene they were wanting to film, but for this one the director himself reached out to my manager. Apparently, he had seen some of my work and wanted me to be one of the stars in his new video.

Harry Styles- is the biggest name in the porn industry and someone you don’t say no to. Not only is he one of the hottest and sought after pornstars, but he is also known for being a fantastic director. Every single one of his videos has at least a million views, if not more; they are hot and sensual, plucked right from all the fantasies that I’ve stored away in my brain. He started out just like everyone else, at the bottom of the totem pole, but he became so successful so fast that everyone in the industry wanted to work with him. Recently, he’s been focusing more on the directing side of his job, foregoing the acting part which many people have complained about, but of course he doesn't care.

I’m not embarrassed to admit that I’ve gotten myself off multiple times from watching him. Just listening to his deep, slow, and raspy voice would make my cunt slick before reaching into my night stand to grab my purple bullet vibrator. I would press it to my clit and circle it around while I watched him kiss down the length of the random girl’s body before he would uncover her wet pussy and taste her for the first time. He would use both his tongue and fingers to get her off before fucking her into the matress, making her scream out in pleasure as he takes her from behind and slaping the plump flesh of her ass as she comes on his thick cock. He would fuck her through her orgasm, and the sound of both of their moans would make my stomach swirl with pleasure. I would always tease myself, not letting myself come until I knew he was about to orgasm. To not disturb my neighbors, I would flip around on my belly with my vibrator still pressed closely to my swollen clit and bite into my pillow as I listened to his deep moans as he came, finally finding my release alongside him.

It’s gonna be hard for me to look him in the eye today and not picture him like that; to not think of the way his back muscles flex while hovering over his partner, thrusting into them as hard and fast as he can or the way the vein on his neck pops out when he tilts his head back in pleasure. I don’t even know if I’ll be able to focus on my costar as Harry directs us, only focusing on him and what he wants from me.

“Honey?” A small woman stands in front of me, holding a clipboard and a pair of headphones hanging around her neck. “Honey Rose?”

“Yeah, that’s me. Sorry, I guess I’m a little distracted.” I answer to my stage name, and laugh off my embarrassment. She giggles along with me, easing my nerves.

With an extended hand she says, “Hi, I’m Jenny, Harry’s assistant.” I take her hand and offer her a smile. “I’ll be showing you around and then I’ll take you to meet him.” After we shake hands she pulls away and turns around. “Follow me and I’ll show you where you can put your stuff.”

We make small talk while walking down the hallway towards an unknown destination. Jenny rattles off all the things she did this morning, preparing for the shoot and she also tells me how excited Harry is to meet me.

My stomach once again flips at the thought of being in his presence, but I don’t get a chance to think about it more when Jenny stops in front of a door that says ‘Honey Rose.’

“I get my own dressing room?”

Jenny looks at me with her eyebrows furrowed in confusion. “Of course you do. Have you never had one before?” She opens the door, stepping to the side to let me walk in the room first. “Harry always makes sure his stars are taken care of.”

I shake my head while walking in the room. It’s nothing too extravagant, with a love seat couch tucked in the corner with a small coffee table in front of it and a vanity on the far left wall, but it’s nicer than anything I’ve gotten before. Usually I have to get undressed in front of all the crew before slipping into a robe, so having this space puts me at ease.

At least I’ll have some privacy throughout this shoot.

“If you just wanna set your stuff down I’ll take you to meet Harry. He’s just now finishing setting up the bedroom set.” I take my coat off and hang it over the back of the chair and then place my purse on the coffee table. “You ready?”

“As I’ll ever be.” I stick my hands in my pockets to hide the fact that they are shaking and follow after Jenny. For being as tiny as she is she sure can walk fast and I find myself wishing she would slow down so I can prepare myself.

The set is a normal looking bedroom. It’s cozy, warm, and inviting. The bed is dawned in white sheets, a white duvet, and a tan throw with brown pillows. The bedside tables are decorated with items to make it look like someone actually lives here and a mirror leans against the wall across from the bed.

There aren't a lot of people in this room right now, some are setting up certain light fixtures and others are testing out the equipment, but I immediately know which one is Harry. Dressed in long black flared trousers and a matching black shirt, he stands next to the mirror, angling it so it perfectly aims at the head of the bed.

He hasn’t noticed us yet, but when Jenny clears her throat he looks up in the mirror and immediately makes eye contact with me. “Harry, this is -”

“Honey Rose.” My fake name rolls off his lips and I find myself begging to hear him use my real name. “I know who she is, Jenny. Would be kind of hard not to know.” Harry stuffs one hand in his pocket and makes his way over to me. “I’m Harry.” He extends his hand out to me and it takes me a second before I do the same.

“Hi, it’s nice to meet you, Harry.” I hope he doesn’t see the school girl blush on my cheeks, but I can’t help but find myself so taken with him. His hair falls perfectly in waves in a slight middle part that frames his face. There is a shadow of facial hair surrounding his jaw and around his lips, drawing attention to the pinkness of them. His eyes shine bright compared to the darkness of his hair; beautiful sea green staring straight at me. The tattoos on his arm stand out and I find myself looking over each and every one, but then I remember that I’m still holding onto his hand. I let go rather quickly and he chuckles at me. “I’m excited to work with you. I’ve heard nothing but great things.”

“Well, I should hope so.” Two dimples pop out on the sides of his cheeks as he smiles while pushing his hair back and off his forward. “But I’m curious, are they talking about my directing skills or how I fuck?”

I keep myself composed, even though all I want to do is tell him that my information is coming from the videos that I’ve watched of him. I gather up all the confidence in my body and say, “Both, but I guess I’ll only be seeing one of those talents today.”

A confused look flashes across his face, but he doesn’t let it last. His lips perk up and he quietly says, “We’ll see about that.” Now it's my turn to be confused. I open my mouth to ask him what he means by that but he stops me. “Honey, would you mind joining me in my office? I just want to go over a few things with you, if that’s all right.”

“Of course. Whatever you need.” Harry places his hand on my lower back and escorts us out of the room. His office isn’t too far away, but the walk is filled with a thick tension. He ushers me in, and tells me to sit on the couch like the one similar to mine in my dressing room. Harry takes a seat next to me, not sitting behind the desk which honestly makes me feel more equal to him.

“As you may know, my videos are praised for how real and authentic they seem. I don’t do the corny pizza delivery guy bullshit or any of those cheesy porns that have terrible dialogue and even worse acting. I like to make everyone on set feel comfortable, so that they can actually feel the pleasure instead of faking it. Does that make sense?” He crosses one of his legs over the other, and the way his trousers move it showcases his thick thighs bulging under the surface of the fabric.

“It makes perfect sense, and I really respect what you are doing here. Most of the time they just throw me in a room with a guy and just tell me to fuck him.”

“I can promise you that’s not gonna be the case today, but I do need to ask you a few questions. You can answer whichever ones you want or not if you don’t want to.” I nod my head at him, telling him I understand. That smirk reappears on his face, but this time I don’t get so flushed. The way he’s looking at me makes me want to sit on top of his desk and have his head be buried in my cunt. “I just need to know so I can fuck you just how you like it.”

“Y-you’re gonna be the one fu- in the scene with me?” My heart rate picks up in anticipation and I hope I didn’t just hear him wrong. He hasn’t done a video in such a long time. Why would he start now?

“That wasn’t the original plan.” Harry stands up, walking closer to me before crouching down in front of me. His knees touch mine and even through the fabric of both of our clothes I can feel his warm skin. “When I was looking for the girl for this shoot I came across one of your videos.” Harry’s fingertip grazes over my knee and he starts to draw circles on it. “It was just you, laying on a bed, with a vibrator on your pretty little pussy.” He looks up at me, and grabs a hold of my jaw. “You had beautiful moans coming from these lips. I just knew that I couldn’t sit there and watch someone fuck you, not when I could be the one doing it.”

I turn my head, still keeping eye contact with him. His thumb that was on my jaw now rests against the skin of my lips. I puker them, softly kissing his thumb before taking it into my mouth for just a moment. “You want to fuck me, Harry?” His eyes are dark, lustfully watching as I kiss his thumb, suck on it, and then let it plop from between my lips.

“Oh, honey.” Harry moves his hand away from my face, placing it on my knee again. With both hands, he pushes my thighs apart and situates himself between them. “You have no fucking clue.” I burn under his gaze. His touch is light and teasing, kneading the muscles of my thighs while he looks up at me. “I still need you to answer a few questions for me. Can you do that for me, honey?”

“Please, call me Emma.” I don’t mind being called Honey. In fact it makes me feel confident and sexy, but right now I just want to feel real with him.

“Okay, Emma. Are you okay with me warming you up before we shoot? I can do it right here, spread you out and make you come on my fingers so you're more sensitive while we film. You need to be warm, wet, and ready for me.”

Harry kisses up the length on my pant leg, placing his lips right on top of the sem and stopping when he gets close to my center. “Yes, please make me come, Harry.” After I give him the okay, he doesn't waste a second before undoing the button on my pants and pulling them down my legs. He takes in the sight of my red lace thong and by the way the air creates a cool sensation on my panties, I know I’m wet for him; and he can see it.

“I’m gonna ask you a few questions, but you have to promise me that you’ll answer them truthfully, okay?”

Harry patiently awaits an answer, starting to slowly kiss up my thigh. He kisses both of my knees and continues to switch between both legs as he travels upwards until he reaches my midthigh and sits back up. “Yeah, I-I’ll answer them.”

“Let’s start with an easy one.” Harry drags his hands across my skin, nails scratching slightly. He finds my hips, tracing his thumb in the crease where my hip bends from sitting down. “Are you okay with me kissing you?”

“Yes, I actually prefer it.” With the grip on my hip, he pulls me to the edge of the couch so I’m barely even sitting on it. He leans into me, pressing his chest against mine as he tucks himself into my neck.

“Hmm,” His curls tickle my cheek, his sweet smell overpowers me, and his nose teases up my neck. “Is there anything that’s a hard no for you during sex?” I don’t want to do anything you’re not comfortable with.”

The fact that he isn’t even asking me these questions puts me at ease. Though I haven’t had a lot, my costars never asked me what I was or wasn’t comfortable with. The directors never cared, only making sure every piece of dialogue and every cue on the script was hit.

“You can do anything to me. If it’s you doing it, I know I’ll like it.”

“You’re stroking my ego here, Em.”

The tip of his nose grazes my jawline before it's replaced by his lips. He is still holding onto my hips and even though I love his hands there I wish he would touch me elsewhere. Just from him being this close to me, my cunt is slick and my clit is throbbing, waiting to be touched.

“I’ve watched you before. I know how you fuck, so anything you want to do go right on ahead. I can take you, Harry.”

“Oh, I have no doubts about that.” Placing a kiss on my cheek, he stands up and sits down next to me again. “Stand up.” Obeying, I stand up on shaking legs and turn to face him. Legs spread, arms stretched out along the back of the couch, and a smirk on his face, Harry sits there eyeing me up and down. “Strip for me. Let me see what’s mine for today.”

I cross my arms, grabbing the hem of my t-shirt and pulling it over my head. His eyes move to my chest, taking in the matching red lace bra. Harry takes one arm off the back of the couch to adjust himself in his pants as he continues to take me in. “You know, it’s not fair that I’m half naked and you’re still completely clothed.”

Harry clears his throat and reaches out to grab my hips to turn me around. “This isn't about me.” His fingers find the band on my underwear and my breath hitches when he starts to slowly pull them down. In the wake of the fabric, he kisses where it once laid. “So sit down on my lap.” Pulling on my hips, he sits my naked bottom half on his fully clothed lap. “Spread your legs.” I hook a leg over each one of his thighs and lean back onto his chest. “And let me make you come, so I can fuck you how I want later.”

The rings on his fingers are cold on my blazing skin. Touching over the expanse of my stomach, my hips, my thighs and briefly the tops of my breasts he teases me with everything I want while simultaneously avoiding the place I need him most.

My pussy is soaked with my arousal, dripping down and probably landing on his trousers, but at this moment I can’t find it in myself to care.

“Do you want me to just rub your clit and get you off that way, or do you want me fingers? Stretch you out a little bit so I fit nice and snug in you?”

I tilt my head to the side to find him already looking at me. Our lips are so close I fainting feel his skin, but we both don’t make the move to lean in; to fuel the fire we both feel growing. “Want your fingers. Please.”

Harry looks down at my lips for a brief second before turning his head away from me. Out of the corner of my eye I see him looking at my body that’s spread out for him and the lust in his eyes is unmistakable.

I take advantage of his head facing forward and tuck my face in the crook of his neck. He smells even better this close up. His smell is sweet, reminding me of walking into a bakery while also being smokey, like a fresh campfire on a fall evening.

I repeat his actions from early, gliding my nose across his neck. When his fingers finally touch my cunt I whimper into his skin. I accidentally bite into his neck from the shock of finally feeling him. “Hey. You can’t mark me yet, Em. Wait until later and you can leave your marks anywhere you want.”

The tips of his fingers trace over my entrance, gathering up all the wetness caused by him. He drags them up and uses my arousal to start slowly drawing circles on my clit. Instead of biting him I kiss down the side of his neck to try and quiet my cries of pleasure.

“Maybe I didn’t even need to warm you up. You were soaked before I even touched you.”

In my desire induced haze I accidentally say, “I always get so wet for you.” My cheeks heat up with embarrassment and if I could bury myself into his neck anymore I would.

“Oh?” His fingers speed up, making me squirm in his lap. “Are you telling me you’ve watched my videos while rubbing this little clit of yours? You’ve came from watching me fuck someone else. Is that what you’re telling me?”

From the bulge pressing into my ass, it’s obvious this is turning him on. I let my embarrassment slip away and just let myself be in the moment with him. “Yes, Harry. I’ve always wanted to fuck you.”

“Well, it’s my lucky day isn't it, baby?” He doesn’t warn me before filling my pussy with his fingers. Long, thick, and ring clad, his fingers work against my g-spot. Combined with the teasing and his relentless strokes on my clit, my stomach begins to tingle and the muscles in my cunt squeeze around his fingers.

“God, Harry. I’m so fucking close.” His movements are slow and skillful, not needing to go fast and hard to make me reach my end.

“You’re a sensitive little thing, aren’t you?” His fingers stop fucking me, but he presses his fingertips up into my g-spot and massages the spot that makes me see stars. Somehow he’s lifted the hood of my clit so he’s directly on my nerves. “Can’t wait to get you underneath me, so I can fuck you into the sheets. Spread your pussy out and take you just like I fucking want.”

I throw my head back on his shoulder, needing some fresh air. My lungs can hardly keep up with my shallow breaths and I’m so dizzy I feel like I could pass out. “Please, Harry. I need to cum.”

“You don’t have to ask me. Just let go, honey. Make a mess of me.”

And so I do. I feel myself clench around his fingers and my ears start to ring. The sound of his voice telling me how good I am filters through the noise, but for the most part I can’t focus on anything except the pure bliss running through my veins. Harry kisses my cheek, as he coaxes me through my orgasm. “Good girl, Em.”

I fully relax into his chest as I come down from the high. He slips his fingers out from me and puts them up to my mouth. “I would love nothing more than to taste you right now, but I want to make sure the first time I do it’s caught on camera.”

Harry drags my come across my bottom lip before slipping his fingers into my mouth. He lets me take my time cleaning his fingers up and he keeps eye contact with me the whole time.

“What do we do now?” I ask after his fingers leave my mouth.

“You are gonna go get a snack, get your hair and makeup done, and get dressed.” He pinches my bare hip which makes me yelp, but he just smiles at me. “But you gotta get off my lap so you can do that.”

It’s crazy to see him go from this sexy dominant male to someone who is also playful. It makes my heart beat faster in my chest when he looks at me with a smile.

I climb off him and go to grab a tissue from his desk to clean off the mess between my thighs. “Nope. None of that.” He snatches the tissue from my hand and puts it in his pocket.

“I can’t clean myself up?” I cross my arms over my chest and for a second I forget I’m just in my bra, but I’m reminded when Harry’s eyes travel down to my tits.

“No.” He walks over to my underwear that were haphazardly discarded and kneels before me. Tapping on the side of my ankle, he silently tells me to raise my foot so he can dress me. “While you are getting ready I want you to think about how wet you are. I want you to feel your come on your thighs and think about what we are gonna do. How I’m gonna fuck you. How I’m gonna make you come again.” He kisses my hip bone before standing up, dragging the fabric along with it. Harry makes sure it’s in place and snaps the band against my skin. “I’ll see you later, honey.”

Throughout getting my hair and makeup done I shift unfavorably in my seat. My underwear is absolutely ruined from my orgasm, but now it's slick with my want for Harry. I can’t stop thinking about what we are about to do.

In front of me lies my ‘script’. There isn’t much in it other than some lines I need to say. The premise of the whole video is a couple waking up tangled in the sheets together after being away from each other for a while.

I think about what I plan on doing to him as the girls around me talk amongst themselves. Usually I would partake in these conversations and make friends with them, but right now my brain can only focus on one thing.

They curl my hair, fluff it out and apply some light makeup to my face. I didn't want any foundation on because it will just get smudged anyway and I don’t want to look sloppy, so all I have on is some mascara and a light lip gloss.

A silk black robe is wrapped around my body with my skin bare underneath and matching black slippers are on my feet. It was awkard taking my clothes off in front of the wardrobe person, especially considering the poor excuse of fabric that was my underwear.

The air is cold in the hallway as I walk towards the studio room and I know everyone that passes me can see my nipples through my robe.

The room that was once filled with maybe five people now houses twelve. It’s hard to walk in the room with how many bodies there are and I barely see Harry through the crowd. I protectively shield my chest away from prying eyes and lower my head.

Harry has changed from earlier, now wearing a black fitted t-shirt that shows off his muscles and a pair of grey sweatpants. I can tell by the bulge in his pants that he isn’t wearing any underwear and the sight instantly makes my mouth water.

He finds my eyes across the room and at first he smirks at me, taking in my skimpy robe and the exposed skin on my thighs. He must see the apprehension in my eyes because he looks around the room and shakes his head. “Anyone who doesn’t absolutely need to be in here needs to get out.”

Disapproving sighs are heard around the room, but they don’t hesitate to listen to him. Harry is known for being a sweet and caring guy but I’ve also heard that he isn’t afraid to put his foot down when he needs to.

He waits until all unnecessary personnel exit the room, being left with the camera man and the sound lady. “Are you ready?” Harry kneels on the opposite side of the bed and puts his hands on his hips.

“More than ready.” I pull the blanket back, ready to slip under the covers and Harry does the same. “Do you usually wear that to bed?” I say referring to his outfit.

“I could ask you the same.” He grabs the sting that keeps my robe closed and tugs on it, not hard enough to open it, but just enough to pull me closer to him.

“No. I usually sleep naked. Shouldn’t we make this as natural as possible?” I wink at him and pull his hands so the string gets loose. The silk moves against my skin as the front opens, but I only allow Harry to see me.

His eyes drink me in, looking at every exposed piece of skin I have to offer. “Are you trying to be the director now? Trying to steal my job are you?”

“Maybe.” I shrug. “I bet I could do a better job.”

Harry reaches into my robe, pinches my hip and says, “Get that robe off and get under the covers.” The dimples that I’ve come to love poke out as I do as he says.

Harry walks over to the two other people in the room and says something inaudible as I get myself comfortable. He must have told them to leave, because after they check the equipment they both turn around and leave. I’m used to people seeing me naked now and I’m not ashamed of having sex in front of people. In all actuality it turns me on knowing that people are watching me and my partner, but we are only focused on each other.

“You didn’t have to kick them out. This isn’t my first rodeo.” I lay my head up against the headboard and watch as he starts to take his shirt off. No matter how many times I see his bare chest I still swoon every time. This is my first time seeing it in person and I can't wait to leave little love marks on him like he said I could earlier.

“I know. I didn’t want them in here.”

“Why?”

“Just didn’t want them to be in here.” He bends down to take his sweats off, only leaving him in his underwear, before climbing into bed with me.

“Won’t it be hard without them in here?”

Harry turns towards me and leans on his elbow. “Those cameras over there are already filming and there are mics around the room to pick up your pretty noises that men are gonna drool over, so no, it won’t be.” He pulls the blanket down to expose my breasts. Leaning forward he takes my nipple in his mouth and lightly swirls his tongue around it. “Just lay down, act like you are asleep, and then wake your loving boyfriend up so he can fuck you senseless, okay?”

“Whatever you say, director.” He chuckles at me and lays down. I press my naked body up against his half naked form and he groans.

“Should have thought the whole naked thing through. I already need to be inside of you, so let’s hurry up.” I laugh into his chest and pretend like I’m peacefully sleeping on his chest for a while.

Under the sheets, I discreetly sneak my hand from his tummy to the tops of his boxers. Being the professional he is, he doesn’t make any noise or give any indication that I’m close to touching him.

I feel guilty because he got me worked up already and I haven't given him anything in return, so I pretend to wake up and lovingly look over at him. To portray the act of being his girlfriend, I caress his face, push back his hair, and take in the way he looks while he’s relaxing.

I know he isn’t asleep, but he looks so cute and peaceful laying here like this with me. Throwing back the covers, I expose myself to the camera and run my hand along the top of his boxers. Harry stirs a little bit, trying to look like he’s waking up, but he keeps his eyes closed.

“I’ve missed you, baby.” I whisper to him while dragging his underwear down his narrow hips. His cock is half hard, laying against his stomach. I take him into my hand, and his warm skin feels so nice against mine. I position myself between his legs while working my hand up and down his shaft. “Wake up, Harry. You’ve been gone for too long. I need you.”

Once he’s fully hard, I put his tip in my mouth lightly sucking on it while my left hand reaches down to grab his balls and squeeze them. A little moan escapes him and he moves around more as he ‘wakes up.’ I take him further into my mouth, letting him tap the back of my throat before coming back up to lick at his tip.

I hunch over him more, so I’m on my knees as I blow him. I continue to bob up and down, letting him stay in my throat for longer periods of time. His hands sneak into my hair and pushes it away from my face so he can watch me. “You just have to have my cock in your mouth first thing in the morning don’t ya, honey?”

His dick pops out of my mouth and I replace it with my hand. I lay my head on his thigh, batting my eyelashes up at him while I jerk his dick in my hand. “I’ve just missed you, didn’t you miss me?” I pout my lip out at him slightly, playing into the needy and horny girlfriend role. Honestly, I don't have to even act that part. My pussy is a mess and I know the camera behind me is picking up on just how wet I am.

“Of course I did.” He grabs the side of my head and hovers me over his wet dick. “Now, put my cock back in your mouth so I can show you just how much I missed you.” I don’t know why he asked me because he doesn’t wait for me to lower my mouth on him all the way before he’s thrusting into my mouth.

Harry controls my head, fucking my throat while he lays under me. His moans are sinful, and make my cunt even more slick. I run my hands up and down his thigh, stopping over the tiger and scratching at it with my nails. “Fuck.” He moans at the pain and fucks my throat even harder. “Am I not fucking your mouth hard enough? Huh? You wanted me to go even harder?”

I pinch his hip, telling him it’s okay to keep going and he does. Harry’s hips come off the bed while he pulls my head down over and over again. Tears leak from my eyes from the pressure, but I wouldn’t have it any other way.

Throughout all my sexual experiences I don’t think any man has even been this vocal in bed with me. His voice is rough and raspy and his moans are deep and sultry. Every word he says drips off his tongue like honey.

Harry suddenly pulls out of my mouth and forces my head to look up at him. “Get up here now. Need this little pussy in my tongue now, before I fuck you.”

The thought of his mouth on me makes me squirm and I move fast at his words. I crawl over his body, touching his chest and arms on my way up. “Can I get a kiss first, please?”

“Don’t have to ask me, baby.” Harry grabs the back of my head and pulls me down to his warm lips. Kissing him feels exactly how I pictured. He’s soft but rough, fast but takes his time, and in control while making me feel like I hold the power. His tongue works against mine and I find myself loving the way he tastes.

I pull back from his lips, knowing if I don’t stop we’ll just kiss the entire time. If this was just for us, I would kiss him until my lips bruise and all the air evaporates from my lungs, but this isn’t just for us. Grabbing his cheeks, I open his mouth wide. “Stick your tongue out for me, baby. I need to make sure you’ll be wet enough to fuck my pussy with your tongue.”

“Don’t think I’ll need it with how wet you get, but I’ll never pass up the opportunity.” Harry winks at me as I spit into his mouth. My mouth is sloppy from the kiss we shared and the way he was relentless fucking up into my mouth causing a string of I admire how it looks sitting on his tongue, ready to be used.

Harry grabs my ass and pulls me until I’m straddling his head. He yanks my hips down, forcing me to fully sit on his face. His moan is unmistakable as he tastes me for the first time and I simultaneously moan at the feeling of his tongue on my clit.

Grabbing onto his hair for stability and also rocking my hips against his tongue I utter, “Fuck, Harry.” My clit is so sensitive from my orgasm and I know it wouldn’t take me much to finish again. His tongue licks from my entrance to my clit where he sucks it into his mouth and shakes his head to stimulate it further. I sound like I just ran a marathon with how heavy I’m breathing, but I can’t even find the time to be embarrassed about it.

It comes to a surprise to me when I feel his hand smack my ass once on each cheek, making my skin sting. Harry pulls away from my pussy just for a moment, “Can you not take me sucking on your little clit, baby? Does it feel too good?” He doesn’t wait for a response, just dives back into my cunt and sucks my clit into his mouth once again. As he shakes his head back and forth, his stubble on his cheeks rubs against the inside of my thigh creating a nice achy burn that I will feel tomorrow morning.

When he smacks my ass again, I cry out and lean my head against the headboard. “Keep doing that, Harry. You’re gonna make me cum.”

“You like me smacking your ass that much, honey?” I nod my head and whimper. He does it again and I nearly come just from that. “You’re such a dirty little thing.”

After a few more licks at my clit, I come all over his face and start shaking above him. My legs feel like jello and I don’t even know how I’m going to move from the position. “I could make you come on my face like that all fucking day, such a great thing to wake up to.” Harry realizes my weak legs and he runs his calloused hands over my hips and down my thighs. “You still want me to fuck you? Show you how much I’ve missed being deep in your little cunt?”

“Yes. Please, I need you inside me.” Harry reaches up and wraps his hand around my throat. Before I can even comprehend the fact that his long fingers, that I came around earlier, are around my neck he pushes me off his chest and down to the bed beside him.

Instinctively, my legs part for him and he gladly slides between them. His dick slides between my slick lips, tip lightly touching my still aching clit. “I can’t wait til I slip right into you.” Harry presses a light kiss to my lips, trailing them over to my cheek, across my jawline, and down my neck. As he goes further down, sucking light bruises into the skin of my breasts, he pinches my chin and turns my head until I’m watching us in the mirror. “But you gotta keep your eyes on me.”

“But-”

He climbs up my body, and whispers in my ear, “Listen to me, Em. Be a good girl and listen to me, okay?”

“O-okay.” My body shivers, hearing him call me my name during sex is everything I didn’t think I needed, but now it’s all I want. Harry trails my body in kisses again and this time I keep my eyes on him in the mirror. He buries his face into my cleavage, licking, kissing, and sucking my skin, leaving his mark behind. His large hands take in both of my breasts when he starts giving my stomach the same attention.

“Are you dripping yet for me? Do you think I could slip right in?”

“I don’t know. I guess you could always find out.” I tease. Harry turns his head and looks at me in the mirror. He takes in the smirk on my face and shakes his head while biting his lip.

“I love that mouth of yours,” Fingertips trace the outline of my lips, taunting me, “but I think I can find a different use for it.” Now fully hovering me, he grabs my hips and wraps my legs around his waist. “I want to hear those pretty little noises you make.” Sitting up on his knees, Harry holds my hip with one hand while lining his cock up to my entrance. “You think you can do that for me? Can you tell me how good I’m fucking you?”

“Yes, Harry. Just please, fuck-” Before I finish my sentence, Harry is already pushing into me, stretching my pussy out just for him. We both moan out at the feeling, and my nails dig into his abs. Red angry marks are left over the ink of his butterfly tattoo and I wish I had the time to admire the marks I made.

“Yeah, that’s good.” Harry finally sinks into me all the way and both of his hands are now gripping my hips with a fierce strength. “Mark me like that, baby. Mark me however you want.”

When my nails dig into his biceps he hisses and starts fucking into my relentlessly. Harry thursts into me while also using his grip on me to fuck my cunt onto his cock. The sound of our skin slapping against each other and the pleasure we are giving each other fills the room.

I find myself thankful that he kicked everyone out. Usually in these situations I find myself faking the moans, the pleasure, on my face, and the way my body is moving, but with him everything is natural.

I look at us in the mirror, with Harry now hovering over me and whimpering my name over and over again in my ear. His back muscles bulge and claim my attention as he fucks into me, deep and slow. His pelvis stimulates my clit every time he pushes deeper in me and I reluctantly take my eyes off him to throw my head back in pleasure.

“Takin’ me so good, Em.” He captures my lips in a kiss and our tongues clash. “I’m gonna need you again, but next time I want you all to myself.” Harry picks up in pace and I can barely hear him over the sound of my own moans. “Just for us, no one else.”

“I-I think I like the sound of that.” I clench down around his dick that’s soaked in my arousal and I feel the ache in my stomach, begging me for a release.

“But you like getting fucked in front of people, don’t you? You like getting fucked like the slut that you are?” He’s so close to my ear that no one will be able to hear his words in the video, but I can and it’s making me drip past him and onto the bed sheets.

If I answer him I know it would be loud, so all I do is nod. Harry slips out of me and I whimper at the empty feeling. It doesn’t last too long though, because Harry flips me around till I’m laying on my stomach and quickly fills me up again.

“I wish I could fuck you in every position, but you feel too good squeezing me.” The tip of his dick massages directly into my g-spot with every thrust he gives me and I bite the pillow to subside my screams. “Nuh uh,” Harry wraps my hair around his hand and tugs my face to the side so I’m looking at the mirror. “Need to see the pretty face as you come.”

The grip on my hair is released and placed back on my hips to angle them upwards. I slip my hand between my legs and rub lazy circles into my clit. The small stimulation pushes me over the edge, and by the way Harry’s face scrunches up and the deep moans escaping him I know my own orgasm caused his.

Breathlessly he falls forwards; forehead resting against the space between my shoulder blades. We stay like that for a while, catching our breaths and taking in each other. Harry kisses the skin of my back repeatedly as I sink into the sheets with him still inside me.

“Well, Em. I think we made a good video.”

#writing #harry styles #harry edward styles #smut #harry styles fic #harry styles imagine #harry styles fanfic #harry styes blurb #harry styes x reader #pornstarry

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just-jordie-things · 4 months

Text

california - nanami kento

✩₊˚.⋆☾⋆⁺₊✧ 10k follower event special! ✩₊˚.⋆☾⋆⁺₊✧

word count: 10k warnings: swearing, jjkverse trauma summary: nanami kento left jujutsu society behind years ago. (y/n) spent that time moving on, thinking she'd never see him again. then she stumbles across a letter that suggests otherwise... more info: slowburn friends to seperation to lovers, reader is annoyingly angsty being seperated from nanami tbh but who wouldn't be ✩₊˚.⋆☾⋆⁺₊✧

[ i shouldn’t have done it but i read it in your letter // you said to a friend that you wished you were doing better // i wanted to reach out but i never said a thing ]

✩₊˚.⋆☾⋆⁺₊✧

On her good days, (y/n) didn’t think about her time as a student at Jujutsu Tech. She was able to complete her assignments, help train a few of Gojo’s students, and complete her paperwork at a decent time, all before leaving for the day at a semi-decent time.

On her good nights she’d have a glass of wine after a simple dinner, take her time with her skincare routine before bed, and fall into a dreamless sleep, until her alarm inevitably woke her up to start it all over again.

A good day came once in a blue moon- and after a google search one night after a couple extra glasses of wine, she thinks a good day might rival the frequency of a blue moon.

Every task of every day seemed to go by in a hazy blur, and if you were to sit down and ask her how her day was, she’d struggle to answer the specifics of the question.

“Fine,” She shrugs back at Ieiri Shoko when she asks her one afternoon. “Yours?”

“You don’t look fine,” Shoko dodges the redirected question with her candid response. “You look like you haven’t slept in ages”

She’s not wrong, and (y/n) knows she doesn’t look great. Getting an average of four hours of sleep each night, on top of having a highly physically demanding job, the body could only handle so much. The bags under her eyes had bags, and since losing her only tube of chapstick, she hadn’t found the time to stop into the convenience store and pick up another one.

“That’s why you’re the doctor” (y/n) mumbled back.

She hadn’t sought out Shoko’s company, but she was the only one of her colleagues that she didn’t actively push away. Even if the smoke from her cigarette made her the tiniest nauseous after quitting the habit years ago. She was different from the others. Not overbearing, and never too chatty. If she was held at gunpoint and forced to answer, (y/n) would tell you that Shoko was the closest thing to a friend that she had.

Only at gunpoint, though.

“You ever thought about cashing in some vacation time?” Shoko muses.

She finally turns away from the burnt out sorcerer, leaning back against the outside wall of the infirmary and puffing on her cigarette. (y/n) had stepped out for some fresh air- which really meant a break from Gojo pestering her while she did her reports- and just so happened to run into the old… friend.

“Nowhere I want to go” She answered lamely. Shoko fights the urge to roll her eyes.

“Well some downtime would do you good. Like a staycation, you know?”

“Don’t think it’s in the cards, Sho,” (y/n) sighed, pushing off the wall and turning to head inside. “Besides. There’ll still be curses roaming around, won’t there?” She asks, glancing back at her, only to find the woman frowning.

One thing about Shoko? She didn’t express much. Since their school days, she’d mastered holding a neutral face, never quite letting anyone know what she was thinking. Maybe it was just the way she coped with everything.

“There’ll always be curses” Shoko replies before (y/n) could disappear back inside.

She catches her just as she’s stepping over the threshold, freezing up when she speaks because even with how badly she wants to be done with the conversation, she can’t bring herself to shut Shoko out. Not completely, anyways. And not literally.

So she sighs, and doesn’t glance back at her when she forces more words out from between her teeth.

“Then I guess I’ll always be busy”

Shoko doesn’t say anything else before the door’s sliding shut and (y/n’s) gone.

It was the longest conversation they’d had in months. If you could even call it a conversation.

They used to talk all the time, sneaking out to smoke or crashing in each other’s rooms with a stash of magazines and R-rated movies. They used to be actual friends. But that was a lifetime ago and as far as (y/n) was concerned, completely unattainable now.

✩₊˚.⋆☾⋆⁺₊✧

“Can’t tonight, got big plans with Shoko,” (y/n) says, popping a piece of strawberry taffy in her mouth. She’d stolen it from Satoru’s stash just a few hours ago, keeping it safely hidden in her pocket until he was no longer around to catch her savoring it. “Yaga gave me an assignment first thing in the morning, but we could hang out after?”

Nanami Kento knows that the candy she was rolling over her tongue didn’t belong to her, and he knows he’ll probably have to lie to his obnoxious upperclassman once the idiot notices a piece has gone missing. He’s not above lying, but he certainly doesn’t enjoy it. Especially to the face of the strongest sorcerer. But when (y/n) produces another parchment wrapped piece from her pocket and passes it off to him, he takes it for the price of that lie.

“Tomorrow works,” Nanami agrees softly, peeling away the wrapper of the green sweet. “We should probably study for the upcoming exam-”

“Sweet! Taffy!”

Another voice interrupts the conversation, and it’s no surprise to see Haibara Yu bounding up to the two of them. With stars in his eyes and a face splitting grin, neither (y/n) nor Nanami could be annoyed with him for butting in between them with an outstretched hand.

“Sorry, Yu,” (y/n) frowns, holding up the empty wrapper from her piece between her index and middle fingers. “Fresh out”

Just as Yu turns to his other friend, Nanami’s already popped the key lime flavored piece into his mouth. The bright grin on Yu’s face falls into a dramatic frown.

“It’s Gojo’s anyways, go ask him for a piece” Nanami says gruffly, raising his eyebrows in a pointed stare, silently telling his colleague to take the hint and leave them be.

Yu’s obvious in the way he opens his mouth and nods along. He thinks he’s being smooth when he stammers out an excuse about ‘having to be, uh, somewhere’ before scampering off and giggling into his hand.

“Great, he’s totally gonna tattle on me now” (y/n) groans, but something about the idea of a confrontation with Gojo Satoru himself makes her smirk with excitement.

Nanami recognizes the look and as stupid as it would be to go toe to toe with the Six Eyes user over a few pieces of taffy, his lips twitch in amusement seeing the mischievous look on her face.

“He won’t,” He assures her. “I’ll just pick some up for him next time I’m in town”

“No no,” (y/n) shakes her head, smiling softly at him for the gesture. “No need. I’ll just snatch more next time,”

Nanami knows he should be gently prompting her not to steal from their fellow classmates, but he knows that lecturing her will get him nowhere, and he’s not in the interest of making her lose whatever deluded interest in him she’d already taken up.

Deluded, indeed. Kento has no clue what it was about him that (y/n) had grown so attached to since his enrollment at Jujutsu Tech, but for some reason unknown to him, she sought out his companionship, time and time again. She often asked to be training partners, and then studying partners, and overtime it morphed into real friendship. Although he had a habit of suggesting boring activities when she offered him her free time- like right now.

“And we’re not studying. That’s not fun. I want to do something fun” (y/n) half-scolds him playfully for the ridiculous idea he always came up with. It was almost routine at this point.

After his terrible idea, she’d come up with a wildly outlandish one.

“Let’s sneak into a hotel and pretend we’re guests so we can use the pool!”

To which Kento promptly turned down with a bewildered look on his face.

“Absolutely not”

And then they could find a compromise between the two, which was always the normal, reasonable option.

“Hang out in the shopping district and not buy anything?”

It was like clockwork.

With the plan agreed upon, conversation would move on to something else as they’d slowly wander back to the dormitories. Nanami knew it wasn’t fair to stall when she had plans with Shoko for the night, but she wasn’t exactly rushing the two of them either. And maybe he was a little deluded himself, thinking maybe she wanted to talk to him for a while longer, just like he did.

By the time they reach the girls’ building, they’re stopped out front, and she’s still going on with a story about the last curse she exorcized and how ugly it was. It had him laughing, more so than that day Gojo got his ass handed to him by Yaga during training, and the deeply buried selfish part of him hoped she’d keep standing there and talking to him all night.

“So blue, hairless, sticky globs aren’t your type I take it?” He half jokes as she goes on dramatically about the nasty curse that was the cause of her new record for longest shower.

It’s only a joke, believe him, Kento didn’t know the first thing about flirting. As far as he was concerned, no one had ever flirted with him before, and he was pretty certain he’d also never partaken in the act. But there’s a look that flashes across (y/n’s) features that he’s never seen before, something between amusement and what he thinks could be calculation. Her head tilts at a small angle as a slow smile creeps over her face.

“No, no. I’m only into the gloomy, blonde, unattainable types,” She tells him boldly.

For a moment he thinks she’s joking back at him, but realization strikes him and all the blood drains out of his face, before rushing back up and heating up his entire neck and face. (y/n) must notice, because she giggles, and finally turns towards the dorms.

“Shoko’s gonna come snatch me any minute if I keep her waiting like this, so I better go,”

She’s talking again before he can think of anything to say- or come up with any thought at all, really. But if it makes things awkward, she doesn’t show it. In fact, the grin she’s wearing could rival Haibara’s.

“But I’ll see you tomorrow?”

And Kento could only manage a shaky nod of his head as he watched her go. He barely even waves back at her when she bids him a good night.

Once inside, (y/n) bolts to Shoko’s room with a bright red face and a girlish eagerness to tell her all about the little interaction.

✩₊˚.⋆☾⋆⁺₊✧

On her worst nights, she lays awake on top of her covers, staring at the same peculiar spot on her ceiling that she swears she’ll wipe off in the morning, and more often than not, it takes multiple hours before she falls asleep.

And the sleep is not relaxing. Her muscles remain tense, hands in fists and knees clutched tight to her chest. She’s lucky if it’s dreamless. Otherwise, she’s plagued with the memories of every mistake of her past. The worst of all of it, is the image of Haibara Yu’s lifeless body in the infirmary. He’s half covered by one of the shitty, stiff white sheets, and no matter how long she waits with bated breath, he never wakes up.

By the end of the nightmare, Yu’s always dead, and Kento always leaves.

It doesn’t matter if things play out differently than they had in the real memory. It doesn’t matter if she lets him walk away, or if she begs kicking and screaming for him to stay. The ending stays the same.

He leaves, and he never comes back.

Some nights he tells her that it’s her own fault, that she wasn’t there to change things. Some nights he doesn’t even say a word. (y/n) doesn’t know which is the lesser of two evils, because sometimes, just sometimes, it’s such a comfort to hear his voice again that she could forgive him for the nasty things the image of him would spit at her.

Even when she’d jolt awake with limbs that ache and tears staining her pillowcase, she almost wishes she could go back into the nightmare, just to see him again for a few minutes longer.

On the nights you can’t go back to sleep, she finds herself pulling up the contacts list in her phone and staring at his number. It might not even be his number anymore, he very well could have changed it in the last ten years. But it’s a phone number with his name attached nonetheless. She’s never called it, never texted it, even in her worst states, blackout drunk or breaking down on the bathroom floor in the middle of the night, she’s never made the mistake of reaching out to him.

They had a silent agreement after all. To never reach out again. To completely remove themselves from each other’s lives. To become total strangers. At least, (y/n) was sure that was what happened between them. No other explanation ever presented itself, and again, it wasn’t like she could ask. Gojo liked to say people just drift apart, sometimes. She thinks he’s a liar, and maybe a bit of a coward, but she’s never said it to his face. Drifting apart happens over time, she thinks. Drifting apart feels natural, even if it hurts a little bit. Normal people drift apart after life gets in the way, with work, or maybe kids, or some other roadblock that comes about with life.

Sorcerers didn’t drift apart. Or maybe it was that they couldn’t drift apart. There would always be something that kept them tied together, even if running around somewhere far from one another, it was like they’d always be interconnected. The society of jujutsu sorcerers was so small, it should be impossible to drift apart.

There were only two ways to escape it.

The obvious and most frequent cause was death. It was hardly talked about, and perhaps there was a written code never to address the mortality rate of jujutsu sorcerers, but the numbers didn’t lie. This life was not for the weak, and certainly not for those who feared what was on the other side of life.

Haibara Yu fell victim to it before he got the chance to graduate, and she kept it to herself, but (y/n) believed his passing to be the beginning of the end. As much as she hated him for dying, she could forgive him for drifting apart, as Gojo coined it. She’d forgiven him a long time ago, while knelt over his grave with near-frostbitten hands pressed into the marble stone marking it. She’d forgiven him between choked out sobs, before pleading for his forgiveness in return.

Death was a sweet, cruel escape from the lives sorcerers lived. Sweet to those it claimed, releasing them from the horrors they faced in their everyday lives in the name of doing something for the greater good. Cruel to the people left behind to mourn them, counting down the days that pass until the same fate would claim them as well.

But perhaps (y/n) was a pessimist in her natural state, always finding the worst in every situation. She knew this about herself. The problem lied in the fact that pessimism was just too easy to explain away everything wrong with the world.

Because if everything wrong in the world had a larger, more complex reasoning than that of it’s simply bad because that’s the way the world works, then how could the work of any amount of people be enough to fix it?

Then there was the other cause for drifting apart. And perhaps this reason is why Gojo deflected with his choice of wording, because it was defecting. Which is what Geto Suguru did when he renounced jujutsu sorcerery, after slaughtering an entire village of people and then his parents.

If death was sparsely spoken of, defecting was taboo. The difference being no one wanted to speak of the treacherous act and those who committed it. Geto Suguru wasn’t the only one in the history of jujutsu to turn his back on sorcerers and become a Curse User, but he was certainly the most recent, and the acts he committed had been crueler than what was seen by those in the past.

So much so that when her mind drifted off to him, (y/n) found herself straightening up and finding any other topic for her brain to hyperfocus on. It felt wrong to even conjure up the image of his face in the privacy of her own mind. Sometimes the paranoia wrecked her so much she feared Gojo’s Six Eyes would catch her in the act of reminiscing on a past where everyone was still around, still happy, still alive. Now on the rare occasion she lets herself think of those times, there’s a black blur where Geto once was, leaving Gojo and his idiotic grin alone, even in the back of her mind.

Even right now, with her mind drifting off while Gojo had been speaking to her, her posture suddenly stiffens and she’s sitting straight up in her chair, tuning back into whatever he was rambling on about.

It wasn’t often she found herself in Gojo’s office, much less speaking with him, but he’d requested a one-on-one with her and even if she’d declined it, he would’ve tracked her down. Her actually showing up was a courtesy only to herself.

The surprise on Gojo’s half-covered face when she actually appeared at his door wasn’t hidden at all. In another life, she would’ve teased him for the way his jaw dropped open. In this life, she’d stood silently and motionlessly at his door, as if her stillness would’ve let her go undetected, even with his Six Eyes.

At first the meeting consisted of talk about a Special Grade curse popping up around Kyoto that the other school’s resources hadn’t been able to exorcize. It actually seemed like an important talk for a good fifteen minutes. But at some point Gojo had derailed and when she tuned herself back in, he was going on about a bakery in the shopping district.

Her brows furrow, giving herself away in that she hadn’t been listening for a good few minutes, but Gojo continues on with a story about bread.

“Sorry to interrupt,” She interrupts unapologetically, “But what does this have to do with the Special Grade?”

There’s a flicker of confusion on Gojo’s face, but then he grins and laughs too loud. He adjusts himself in his seat, which he’d been leaning across improperly but in a way that was just so him.

“My bad!” He says through his cackles, and next thing she knows, he’s rummaging through the doors of his desk- which looked like it cost more than her monthly rent. He’s muttering a string of disgruntled curses as he digs through a few drawers, pulling some papers out, only to drop them on the desktop and going back to his search.

(y/n) already knows that whatever he’s looking for, he won’t find in that desk. Her eyes wander the pile accumulating in front of him. From file folders to loose pieces of notebook paper to envelopes and what she thinks might be bills, there’s not a chance any of it is useful to their current conversation. Or perhaps useful at all, Gojo had always been notorious for doing his reports late- if at all- and she had a feeling everything in front of her now was just junk.

“Gojo?” She calls softly when he switches to the column of drawers on the other side of the desk, only to continue his messy search. He doesn’t respond, too lost in the disorganization of it all, so she calls his name again, a little more firmly this time.

He jolts upwards, staring at her with his undivided attention from behind the black fabric of his blindfold. (y/n) impatiently raises a brow at him. It takes a real effort to not start tapping her finger against the desk in a display of her growing irritation.

“What is it you’re looking for?” She shakes her head, wondering why she even has to ask.

“The reports from the Kyoto school!” He claims, “I could’ve sworn I put them back in here after I- aha!”

The sudden change in demeanor when he hollers and snaps his fingers makes her flinch, just a little bit, but enough for Gojo to mumble an apology as he rounds the desk. (y/n) stands, expecting to follow him out of the room, but he waves at her dismissively in order to keep her put.

“I left them in my classroom!” He shouts as he makes his way to the door.

(y/n’s) brows furrow, and her mouth drops open to scold him for keeping such documents in a public place, but before she could, he’s admitting something worse.

“I was showing my students earlier as an example piece!” He says it like he’s proud, but the way (y/n) looks at him, you’d think he just admitted to running over her cat. “Be right back!”

She lets out a huff when he’s finally gone, whether it's from deepening annoyance or relief to have a break, she’s not sure. But she turns back to the desk as she waits, only to be met with the mess he’d made.

With a glance to the clock on the wall, she realizes that in the thirty minutes of this meeting, only half of it was spent discussing a work-related matter. The other half was… well fifteen minutes of her life she just won’t get back, she supposed.

It might have been overstepping, but she figures organizing the piles left on Gojo’s desk was a better use of her time than the last few minutes had proven. So with another sigh she gets to sorting.

It’s a lot of piles she creates, but at least there’s a reason for the mess, and at least she stacks everything neatly. The tallest stack is the random pieces of notebook paper- some are grocery lists, some are doodles, and some are notes that actually seem important, like recollections from assignments that he’d need to add to his backed up reports. The other piles are separated into files of previous reports, assorted envelopes, and then a stack of miscellaneous pages she couldn’t make heads or tails of. Either way, Gojo would be obligated to feel some appreciation for her work here.

She works in silence and mindlessly, barely giving even the strangest of papers a second glance once she determines the proper placement for it. But then she comes across an envelope-enclosed letter.

It’s been opened, which isn’t the oddest thing about it. What makes it stand out is how neatly the flap was detached, not a single tear in the rest of the envelope. Unlike the other letters, which were tucked away in shredded envelopes. They’d likely been ripped open by impatient fingers. This one was in perfect condition.

Curiously, she flips it over in her hand, but the only thing written across the front of it is Gojo’s name, in neat, straight handwriting. There’s no addresses, and no stamp. This letter was hand delivered.

With a single glance to the open door of the office behind her to ensure that Gojo wasn’t returning at that very moment, she lets her curiosity get the better of her. She’s not sure who she assumes this letter is from, or what it’s contents are, but the mystery of it has her opening the flap and plucking out the folded paper inside.

Even the folds are neatly creased, folding up the single page into a rectangle that fits perfectly inside of the envelope. Whoever the letter was from clearly had an eye for the organized, unlike the recipient of said letter.

With great care she opens it up, holding the page between her fingers gently, afraid that a grip too tight could fold the page and soil it’s perfect condition.

Her eyes scan over the words quickly.

Gojo Satoru,

If you’re reading this, I suppose I mustered up the courage to actually deliver this to you. I’m sure that was no easy feat. I will try to keep this concise, as I’ve thought about writing this to you many, many times. Now that I’m actually doing it, I hope I can follow through.

(y/n) touches her fingers to lips as if to suppress the small gasp that escapes her. Could this have been from Geto Suguru? The thought makes a chill run down her spine, but against her better judgment, she keeps on reading.

Straight to the point. Life as a salary man is no better than life as a sorcerer may have proven to be. I’m making more money, I’m told I should feel joy in my successes, and I am successful, but there is no joy. I fear that without doing something for the good of the world, I won’t feel joy at all.

I fear I’ve made a grave mistake.

No, this couldn’t have been from Geto, right? With her deductions from the next few lines, (y/n) was growing confused at the point of view of the writer.

But who else was close enough to Gojo to write him a letter? Utahime? But it seemed as though the writer was a man. She chewed on her lip as she continued scanning over the words.

When I left Jujutsu Tech, I truly intended to never come back. I believed that in a world full of curses, and shit, that there was nothing anyone could do to make it a better place. For as long as sorcerers and non-sorcerers exist, their counterpart will always be curses. After Haibara, I believed my existence made no difference in jujutsu society, therefore leaving me no place in it.

I was wrong.

With wide eyes, the hand remaining on the page began to tremble, shaking the thin paper in the slightest and making it a bit more difficult to read. The gears began to fall into place, and (y/n) had a sneaking suspicion that this letter wasn’t from Geto Suguru at all.

More than that, I foolishly miss the things that once were. I miss feeling like I’m making a difference in the world, even if it’s minimal. I miss helping people. I even miss using my Cursed Technique.

And admittedly, I miss (y/n).

This time when she gasps, (y/n) presses her entire hand against her open mouth. It does little to stifle the noise.

I wish I could say that leaving was the right path for me, that I’m doing much better than I really am, but it would all be lies. I’m worse off than I’ve ever felt in my life. Turning my back on sorcery, and on (y/n), was a choice I’ll regret for the rest of my life.

The last time we spoke, you asked me to come back. You told me if I ever wanted to, that you’d make the arrangements. I’m sure you remember that I promptly told you to fuck off. I apologize. You were only trying to help, and for once, you were right.

I suppose this is me saying that I want to return.

Whatever means necessary, if I have to relocate to Kyoto, or start the process completely over, I’ll understand. I only ask two things. One, is for you to pull whatever strings you have in order to make it happen. I owe it to myself, to jujutsu society, and I owe it to (y/n).

The second ask is for you not to mention this to her until the decision is final. If I’m unable to return, no matter the reason, I don’t want her to know of the arrangement. I simply can’t have her thinking I’ve abandoned her a second time. I would rather she remember me as a deserter than a coward, as dreadful as that is.

I’d appreciate your discretion, and your aid. You have my number if you have any questions.

Finally, and slowest of all, her eyes drift to the signature neatly slanted at the bottom of the page. Her heart had previously been racing in her chest as she read the entire page in record time, but it suddenly plummets deep into her gut as her suspicions are confirmed.

Nanami Kento.

Her thoughts are so jumbled that all she can do is glance across the letter as if she would catch something new, as if she hadn’t already taken it all in, in it’s entirety, likely committing most of it to memory on her first read.

After Haibara…

… I was wrong…

… I miss (y/n)...

… lies… worse off… regret…

I appreciate your discretion…

“Ah, you found that, huh?”

When she turns to Gojo Satoru, who was standing in the doorway with a folder in his hands for an unknown amount of time, (y/n) doesn’t feel any shame in going through his things and reading a private letter that was very clearly not meant for her eyes. All she can do is stare at him, the evidence of her crime still in her hand.

She doesn’t say a word. She doesn’t move. Her hard gaze sets on him and it’s enough for him to know she’s demanding an explanation.

“He really didn’t want you reading that, y’know,” Gojo closes the door behind him this time, crossing the room and tossing the found folder on top of the freshly organized stacks of paper on his desk.

Emotions bubble up inside of her that she can barely get straight. She thinks she catches the tail end of desperation, which quickly morphs into rage, and then it burns into something completely unrecognizable.

“Too late now, though, huh?”

He has the nerve to grin, like he was amused by the entire thing. If her entire body wasn’t frozen stiff, she might’ve grabbed him by the collar and demanded a proper explanation from him. She might’ve threatened him if she had to.

Instead, all that comes out is,

“How long did you keep this from me?”

His smile falters, but he doesn’t quite frown. Just regards her with a neutral expression as he keeps calm. She hates that he had to be put through something so traumatic that he was forced to learn to keep his cool. In another life, she would’ve gotten all the information out of him that she’d need just from his initial reaction. Now, she has to dig and prod at him until he unwraps every layer and tears down every wall he’s created to protect himself.

What she doesn’t know, is the most twisted part is he’s thinking the same thing about her.

“Couple weeks”

“Weeks!?” She doesn’t mean to yell, her voice raises against her will, but she doesn’t apologize for the lack of professionalism.

“If you recall, you weren’t exactly supposed to be in the loop-”

“That’s bullshit, Satoru!” This time, she has every intent to yell, before she slams the page down on the desk with enough force to have a small breeze ruining the stacks of pages.

Neither one of them comment on it, but the way Gojo’s eyes slide slowly from the new mess she created before going back to her, speaks volumes. She ignores it.

“How could you keep this from me?”

“(y/n)-” Gojo barely has the time to let out a sigh before she’s shouting at him again.

“I deserved to know about this!” She’s jamming her finger into the letter hard enough that it hurts when she hits the oak desk underneath but she pays the throbbing no mind. “When did this happen? When is he coming back?”

“It’s… it’s still sort of up in the air,” He says quickly, as if he were unable to keep himself from indulging her in some of the details. “But it’s not solid yet, and you never heard a thing-!”

“Satoru,” (y/n) touches her fingers to her forehead as she sighs. “He’s clearly not doing well, what’s going on? How long have you been talking with him?”

He’s told her too much already, and he knows that if Nanami were to find out that (y/n) got her hands on this letter, he’d probably be throttled. If (y/n) didn’t beat him to it, that is.

“We’ve been talking for a while…” Gojo sighs, dropping himself into his chair and doing his best to avoid the bewildered and hurt expression that she’s currently wearing as she glares at him. “Look (y/n) it’s not like I was hiding this to upset you, alright? Nothing was set in stone and if it didn’t work out I didn’t… I just didn’t want to see anyone get hurt”

She scoffs, her head shaking at him in disbelief. Gojo frowns.

“You should take some time to sit with this,” He suggests, before reaching across the desk to push the letter towards her again. “You can take it, if you want”

Scoffing again, she snatches up the page. Her brows furrow as she tries to make him aware of just how disgusted she is by this entire ordeal, but the way her lips wobble and her eyes begin to fill with tears gives her away.

However she’d never break in front of Gojo Satoru, so without a word she turns her heel and storms out of the office, making sure to slam the door shut behind her.

Her hands tremble so much that the page quivers in her hold, creating the only sound in the barren corridor. Her movements halt when she realizes she’s alone in this space, and finally, a small broken gasp escapes her throat.

Willing herself not to cry, she tilts her head back and squeezes her eyes shut tight. It seemed that the emotions she’d suppressed and buried all those years ago were finally bursting at the seams to be let out. All of the anger, the loss, the disappointment- it clawed its way out of the hole in her chest and made it’s way up her throat.

With only a hard swallow and the strong will to keep herself from breaking down right here, she pushed it all back down.

She’s not sure what compelled her to pull her phone out of her pocket and hurriedly tap until she’s scrolling through her contacts list. But it’s as if her hands are working on muscle memory alone as she stops her scrolling under N and is clicking on Nanami Kento’s name as if it were normal to reach out to him.

Once his contact information sits before her, however, she freezes on the spot, thumb hovering over the screen. All that’s there is a phone number and an old school email she’d never removed from the page. He doesn’t even have a photo, as she’d added his number to her contacts before smartphones gave you the option to add a contact picture.

What, was she supposed to call him now? After all this time? Her thoughts grew bitter as she stared at the screen. He never reached out to her, not once, not after promising he would.

And yet, Gojo Satoru had kept in contact with him?

Her phone is locked and back in her pocket in two seconds before she’s marching herself out of the building and heading towards anywhere that she’d consider far enough away from the Special Grade Sorcerer.

✩₊˚.⋆☾⋆⁺₊✧

The day Nanami returns is hectic. His arrival isn’t the only thing to blame, in fact, (y/n) could have almost forgotten about it completely. Almost.

She’d been sent off on back to back assignments, nasty curses popping up one after another and with the shortage of Jujutsu Sorcerers, she couldn’t exactly turn it down.

Even once they’d been exorcized- which wasn’t an easy feat- she’d returned to campus only to find Gojo had unsurprisingly abandoned his students for long enough that she’d stepped in and helped guide their training exercises. They were good students, and for the most part were able to take care of themselves, but every once in a while Panda would goof off a bit too much and once he and Inumaki were distracted, Maki was bound to get looped in as well. Other than that, she had no complaints about subbing in for their teacher.

And once it was all said and done and she could finally go home and start her unofficial routine, she was reminded of the reason she’d been so on edge today to begin with.

Nanami Kento stood at the grand main entrance of Jujutsu Tech. Alongside Gojo Satoru and Principal Yaga, but their presence registered a few seconds later.

Tunnel vision took over against her will, blurring away the other bodies, and then the entire surrounding area, until there was only Nanami Kento in her sights. If it weren’t for him, and knowing that it was simply the effect he had, she might’ve thought that the long day was getting on top of her and she was passing out.

He looked so different and yet exactly the same.

He’d clearly grown into himself. His hair was styled differently, no longer hanging over his forehead in that gloomy teenager way. He seemed a bit taller, a bit broader, and simultaneously just as handsome as she remembered, and even more so.

It was hard to tell how long she’d been standing there, frozen in place, but when she’s finally caught, it feels like it’s been hours.

It’s Nanami who sees her first- although she’s convinced deep down that Gojo knew she’d been there all along- and the look on her face makes her stomach twist with an unpleasant emotion.

He doesn’t react right away, as if he doesn’t recognize her, but just as quickly as the thought crosses her mind, his expression morphs. His eyes widen, and his jaw opens, but he doesn’t call out to her. Instead they both stand in place, a good ten feet apart, staring at each other as if for the first time.

More hours pass. It isn’t until Gojo turns towards her with the widest shit eating grin she’s ever seen that she’s broken from her daze. He waves her over, and she thinks he said something, but her feet are carrying her towards the group before she could actually listen to what he was saying.

Her eyes don’t leave Kento for even a second. Not a single stray to acknowledge her colleague or principal, there was nothing that could pull her attention away.

It takes a deep breath before she could actually find her voice.

“Welcome back, Nanami”

It comes out quieter than she intended, soft enough her voice almost fails her completely.

There’s the smallest of smiles on her face, genuine, but the confusion is still there in the way the corner of her lips twitch with discomfort.

It’s painfully silent between the group of four, she wishes someone would just say something, because she still can’t tear her eyes away from Nanami and the longer they stand there like that the more she worries she’ll combust.

Nanami doesn’t appear to have the same level of discomfort as her. He seems completely unphased as he stands among them. With his hands tucked casually into his pockets, and his expression unwavering in it’s neutral position.

As (y/n) begins to take notice of just how unmoved he is by standing here now- after everything, after he fucking left her here, after the letter- her discomfort grows into utter displeasure. With the silence that had settled between them since her approach, it was terribly obvious. Her nose twitched, her hands curled into stiff-knuckled fists at her sides, and her posture was so pin-straight it must’ve hurt, seeing as she didn’t usually stand so square.

“Just in time (y/n), we were just discussing Nanamin’s little welcome back party,” Gojo speaks up and finally (y/n) tears her fiery gaze away from the man that could hardly stand to avoid it. “You should come by. Tomorrow night after work,”

The look on her face doesn’t change even once she’s turned her attention towards Gojo, and he winces a bit the longer her eyes bore into him, but he continues on anyway.

“Everyone will be there, Shoko, Ijichi, even Utahime’s coming by,”

He makes it hard to find an excuse to say no, but (y/n) chalks that up to his personality. Since she’d found that letter a couple of weeks ago, he’d taken it upon himself to pester her and over-involve himself in her day-to-day. This wasn’t unlike him, she just hadn’t seen the behavior in quite some time.

“I’ll send you the address and you can come by, hm?” He’s nodding at her in confirmation before she can come up with a decent reason why she can’t go. Her teeth are sinking into her cheek as she gives him a small nod of her head.

“Yeah. Sure” Her words are as sharp and strained as she appears while speaking them. She gives a tight lipped smile to the three of them, and is walking away before she could get herself roped into anything else.

Her fists curl and uncurl at her sides as she briskly makes her way off the campus. It takes an effort not to break into a sprint.

Which is odd, because with the way her heart is reacting, she wanted nothing more than to turn back around and run towards him. Instead, with ragged breathing and misty eyes, she couldn’t get herself away fast enough.

✩₊˚.⋆☾⋆⁺₊✧

Feeling yourself shut down was an odd sensation. She always thought that if something traumatic happened to her, she’d leave her body for an unknown amount of time while her mind works to process the heavy emotions.

Instead, it was like a weight was being set on her shoulders. Slowly pushing- and she knew it would crush her, she knew that soon this weight would be too much to carry, and she feared what would happen when it finally crushed her.

It feels as if there’s a giant pair of invisible hands holding her in place, keeping her frozen in the morgue. Another fear settled in the pit of her stomach- that those hands would hold her here forever.

Her eyes feel dry, despite all of the tears today. She forces herself to blink a few times every time they start to feel dry again. The long periods of staring without blinking was starting to go from irritating to painful.

“(y/n),”

Kento’s voice is a shock to her system, making her tense up before relaxing as she glances back at him, where he’s sat against the furthest edge of the room. She’d almost forgotten he’d been there too. Her heart breaks for the thousandth time that day seeing him press his face into a damp cloth.

“I can’t take this anymore”

She completely turns around then, although it hurts to turn her back on Haibara, she couldn’t bear to let Kento feel like he was alone in this moment.

The dryness in her eyes starts to go away as her tear ducts begin to swell.

“Kento…?”

Her voice cracks, and her throat tightens up on her so fast that the rest of her question dies on her tongue. She’s left standing there with nothing to say, nothing to offer. That is, besides her presence and this trauma they shared.

He drops the rag, revealing sunken eyes paired with dark semicircles, frown lines already prominent at the corners of his mouth. He looks how she feels- utterly wrecked.

When he looks at her, the numbness in her limbs is replaced with an icy chill. The invisible claws on her body tighten and lock in place. Even if she knew the right thing to do, the right way to comfort him, she can’t move a muscle.

It feels like ages before he sighs, and finally explains himself.

“I’m leaving,”

For his voice barely rising above a whisper, the simple words are loud and clear. And even though the numbness settles over her rigid body again, (y/n) assumes her face must have betrayed her as she stares back at him, because he suddenly looks startled as he watches her react to the news. Kento pauses, and clears his throat before he speaks up again.

“I… I have to,” He breathes out, an admission he’d not yet shared. All the higher ups needed to know was that he was dropping out and would be joining the workforce. They didn’t exactly care about the details. “I… I can’t take this anymore. I’m not…”

The words die before he ever really considers admitting the full truth to her. (y/n) was a strong and endlessly talented sorcerer. How could he admit to her that he just didn’t have what it took to be as strong as her? This past week had felt like test after test of his will, and at the end of it, Nanami decided to quit while he was down for the count. He couldn’t bear another loss- after Haibara, after Geto- it seemed it was only a matter of time before he witnessed the death of everyone he’d ever cared about.

He doesn’t voice any of this. Instead, he just shakes his head at her before he stands.

“I’ve already packed my things, and let the higher ups know”

(y/n’s) mouth opens and closes a few times, small gasps of disbelief coming in between her bouts of silence, but it takes a few tries before any words could come out.

“L-leaving?” For as quickly as her mind is running with this news, her words struggle to catch up. Her brows furrow as she struggles to find the right thing to say amongst the mess of thoughts in her head.

“I have a few interviews lined up,” His hand rubs the back of his neck and he has to turn himself away from her as he continues. It’s cowardly, and he knows that, but he wanted this all to come from him. Only him. “I’m not cut out to be a Jujutsu Sorcerer. Not… not like this”

She wants to tell him that’s not true, that he’s a fantastic sorcerer. Even if it means screaming at him in order for him to truly understand just how firmly she believed he belonged here.

Maybe the state of shock she was in was too great to properly articulate her thoughts. Or maybe she didn’t want to put more pressure on his choice by fighting for him to stay.

Either way, she doesn’t say a word.

Her mouth shuts and the tears in her eyes cling to her lashes with every blink. All she does is stare at him, and hope he’ll say something that will give her a sense of comfort with his bad news. A silver lining, a bright side.

Instead, Nanami Kento makes her a promise.

“It’s not like I’m just… disappearing,”

He glances back at her with great uncertainty. He’s never seen her cry before today, and he thinks it would break him completely if he was the cause of more tears.

“You know?”

His voice is a mumble, but he knows she hears him. He knows because her lips wobble as she tries to keep them from frowning, and eventually she presses them into a tight line.

“Anytime you want…”

He trails off, because he’s never done this before, and he’s not exactly sure what he’s supposed to say to convince her that if she ever needed anything he was a phone call away. Ironically, these are words he’s been trying to tell her since the day they met, but even now his throat gets that tight and scratchy feeling, and he chokes on them for the umpteenth time. His fingers flex outward, straining and trembling as he tenses the muscles in his hand to it’s fullest extent before he shoves it into his pocket and bites down on his cheek.

“I promise, alright?”

(y/n) swallows the lump in her throat, seeming to understand what the parts he’d failed to say. She was always better at reading between the lines than he was, but today especially, Kento feels like he’s failing her.

The feeling is so disgusting in his gut- hot, and churning in his insides- that he has to close his eyes to keep himself from looking at her again.

“Okay,” Is all (y/n) can manage to say at first. It’s quiet, her voice strained and raw and harsh to his ears despite her whisper. “You too, Ken” She adds after a few beats pass.

He hopes she knows she means it, that she promises it too.

If he does, he doesn’t indicate so.

That’s the last time she sees him before he leaves Jujutsu Tech, and it’s the last time they’ve spoken.

✩₊˚.⋆☾⋆⁺₊✧

Social events weren’t (y/n’s) comfort zone. Maybe once, when she was younger, she would have been eager for such a party. All of her friends, the people who she loved most in this world, her makeshift family, in one place seemed so enticing at one time.

Now, it feels like a karmic punishment.

The way her stomach twists into knots despite only nursing her second drink, the way her skin pricks with anxious goosebumps anytime someone wanders too close to her and appears as though they wanted to catch up, it all starts to feel too much. It makes her sweat, and before she knows it she’s checking the time on her phone every five minutes. Then soon, every two.

Don’t get her wrong- she tried. She really did try. She hung around while Gojo and Utahime were fighting over a game of darts, and even though she didn’t partake she was there when the new kid, Takuma, ordered a round of shots for the group, she even sat and listened to as Nanami talked about his time as a salaryman. She wanted to appear as present as possible, even though she was far from her own mind.

It was just too hard, wasn’t it? To sit there and pretend like there was something to celebrate, that his return was the greatest news of the year. All it did was resurface ugly, buried feelings, and that mixed with just a couple of drinks created a pit in her stomach that only grew as the night went on.

Like an emotional black hole that would suck her up from the inside out.

Nanami had spoken about how the workforce wasn’t right for him, that it was full of selfish assholes who lacked basic human compassion, that it took and took and took and never provided a sense of fulfillment. The longer he spoke about the toxic environment, the more (y/n) felt the weight of it all on her shoulders.

Nothing had changed.

With a lame excuse mumbled to Shoko beside her, she swallowed down the last of her drink and left the table. Shoko wasn’t even given the chance to say anything- or ask her to repeat whatever she’d just missed- before (y/n) was walking right out of the bar.

Tokyo was cold this time of year, the light breeze enough to nip at any exposed skin, instantly making her nose and cheeks red.

It’s not pleasant, but it’s welcomed. Even with her arms wrapped around herself to preserve her fading body heat, the cool air felt good sucked in between her teeth as she began a breathing exercise that she hadn’t done since she was young and afraid of the career path she was on.

Not as afraid as she would be taking up a normal job in the city, working amongst vultures and hyenas and vile men that made high grade curses look a little more innocent, but, still.

She’s too lost in her focus to hear the pub door opening and shutting behind her, so when someone speaks, she looks surprised as she turns towards them.

“Hey,”

It’s quiet, but enough to draw her back to the chilly reality. Nanami Kento stands there with one hand in the pocket of his coat, the other extended towards her. He’d brought her coat out to her.

“You left that inside. Too cold to walk home without it, yeah?”

He’d spoken quite a bit tonight- or at least, a lot for him- and yet this was the most he’d actually spoken to her. It makes her stomach twist in that way that was once pleasant, but tonight? She thinks it might make her sick.

“I wasn’t going home”

She takes the coat, shrugging her arms into the sleeves and wrapping the front around herself as snug as she can get it. It’s not as much of a relief from the cold as she’d hoped.

“Looked like it”

His words aren’t sharp, they’re not accusatory, they don’t hold a hint of malice. But she almost wishes they had, because the defeated way he says it feels worse.

Her eyes shoot towards his, and for a split second, he thinks this is the moment she snaps. This is the part where she calls him out, for all the terrible things he’d done to her. He braces himself, flinching just a bit as he holds his breath and waits for what he deserved to be handed to him.

(y/n) sighs. Her shoulders slump downwards and a frown takes over her lips shortly after. The disappointment in her gaze is more brutal than anything she could have screamed at him. He wishes she would just scream at him.

“You should go back. Gojo will freak if you ditch your own party, you know”

She turns away from him again because she has to. She’s not brave enough to hold his persistent stare.

“I don’t want to”

“Well I don’t want you to-” She stops herself before those emotions could force themselves out. With a sharp inhale, she clamps her mouth shut and shakes her head, waits for the heat in her throat to be bearable enough to talk through. “Just… just go back inside, Nanami” She sighs out the non-threatening demand, hoping he’d turn around without another word and disappear.

Hearing her call him by his surname felt like a knife to the back. Not that it wasn’t what he deserved, he understood why she called him that, and he didn’t exactly expect to hear her call him Kento, or Ken in that sweet voice she used to- always delighted to see him, always smiling when his name would fall from her lips before her entire face would light up. Hearing Nanami followed by her eyes darting to look at anything but his was like a punishment.

“I don’t want to do that” He repeats himself, and she wants to be upset with him for how calmly he speaks, because he makes it seem so easy, while she’s standing there like a ticking bomb trying desperately to slow down time.

“It’s freezing” She tries to argue.

“I don’t mind the cold”

“I’m not great company right now”

“I’ve never thought that”

With the mental timer still ticking, she spins on her heel, her brows furrowed as she regards him with a pitiful sort of glare. All of the sadness she’d been trying to shield with anger was on full display.

“You left me,”

It finally comes out in the heat of the moment, and as soon as the words are spoken she wishes she could take them back- she’d do anything to pack them back up in the box of ugly emotions and bury it somewhere new where no one could ever find it- but it’s too late now. They hang in the air between them like a taunt over her head.

“You promised that you weren’t disappearing,” Her voice cracks and the strain of her voice gives away the tears in her eyes but even in her humiliation she can’t stop herself. For a moment, she’s completely out of her body, looking down at herself as she shoves a finger into his chest and begins to properly cry. “And then you did”

The words are barely audible, spoken through such a shaky whimper that any other person in the world wouldn’t have been able to understand her. But Nanami Kento knew exactly what she was saying. He’d heard her say this all before, almost every night during the nightmares that plagued his sleep.

“(y/n)-”

He doesn’t get the chance to say anything, because her dam had already been broken, and there was nothing she could do to stop the rush of all the pent up emotions now. All the energy they’d drained out of her all these years came flooding out, and it was bound to take him out with her.

“And then you wrote ‘toru that fucking letter,”

She doesn’t have the ability to yell anymore, but even the whispered confession is enough to shut him up. His eyes go wide, and his mouth opens but he has nothing to say. If she read that letter, then there was nothing for him to say. She already knew everything he’d been hoping to keep from her.

Which, thinking about it now, it was foolish of him to believe keeping her in the dark so they could start fresh would ever be the outcome of all of this. He should’ve known Gojo would dangle that letter in front of her like an enticing piece of gossip rather than the deep felt note it really was. He winced and stared down at his feet for a moment as he recalled everything he’d said with the confidence of privacy.

“What was I supposed to make of that?” (y/n) whispers, and it doesn’t sound rhetorical, with the way she stares at him with those wide, teary eyes, but she’s speaking again before he can even come up with a response. “I know you didn’t want me to see it and- and honestly a part of me wishes I hadn’t, maybe this would b-be easier, but…” She sniffles as she begins to stammer, her head shaking again in the hopes it would make her words more clear and concise. “But I did see it and it’s not easy it’s- it’s really hard”

He’s not sure what compels him to be so bold, but when she uncrosses her arms to aggressively rub the tears off of her cheeks, Kento reaches out and takes her wrist before she could defensively cross her arms again. Her eyes go wide from the surprisingly gentle action, but she doesn’t try to pull away.

“It is hard. It’s my fault that it’s hard,” He tells her softly.

Seeing the tears still swelling in her pretty eyes makes his throat start to close up, and he can’t help but be reminded of the last day he’d seen her. He’d been the cause of her tears then, too.

“I’m sorry, (y/n). I didn’t mean to hurt you, I just… I was young, and what I thought was right was so foolish-”

“A complete idiot” She mumbles weakly. He nods back at her in agreement.

“I know,” He murmurs, and the warmth that the softness of his voice ignites in her chest is bound to spread through her and weaken her knees soon enough. “I meant it all, though. What I wrote. I missed purpose. I missed… you,”

I missed you too sits on her tongue like lead.

“I should’ve written to you directly, I know that now, and if I could take it back I would but… when I wrote that letter, I still wasn’t sure if I’d…” He trails off, his eyes glancing around as he tries to find the right thing to say, which might have been useless, seeing as he’d been saying all the wrong things for most of his life. “I didn’t know if I’d be strong enough to come back. Strong enough for you. I… (y/n), I left because I wasn’t strong enough to stay. I didn’t… I couldn’t put you through that again”

It’s messy, and it takes a moment for her to process it all, but slowly, it all clicks into place and she finally starts to understand what his motivations were in all of this.

“Kento…” She sighs, and it’s not quite like old times, but it does ignite an old spark in him that makes the corner of his mouth quirk upwards for just a brief moment. “I didn’t need you to be any stronger than you already were,”

Her fingers tremble as she slides her arm out of his hold, only to ghost the pads of her fingers over his palm. Even after the years spent away from jujutsu sorcery, the palms of his hands still bore the rough calluses of a man wielding a weapon. Her eyes darted towards his hand as she made contact with it, eyeing the way he offered his open palm to her, but made no move to take her hand. He waited.

“I didn’t need you to be anything,” She murmured, glancing up at him then. Her hand hovered over his still, but the pounding of her heart still caused it to shake. “I just wanted you safe. If that meant leaving then- then fine, but not knowing how you were, if you were okay, if you were happy, I… I hated that”

She had her other hand wrapped around his heartstrings, he was sure, because the tugging on them was relentless and painful. Kento had to clear his throat before a choked gasp could come out of it.

The urge to apologize over and over, until I’m sorry are the only words he knows how to say, until his throat is bloody and raw, strikes him so hard he almost actually does.

“(y/n),”

Her name is murmured so softly his lips barely moved, breathed out so gently it was stolen and silenced by a sharp gust of wind that cuts between them. Finally, her hand falls into his, as if the weight was too much for her to hold anymore. Her fingers clasp around his palm as if muscle memory took over as soon as they touched, as if seven years apart meant nothing at all when it came to them.

“I’m not asking you to forgive me,” His eyes flicker in between hers, and he can’t stop his free hand from reaching out, hesitating only a moment before the cool pads of his fingers brush away the tears still stuck to her cheek. “But… I don’t want to lose you again. I left because I couldn’t stand to lose you and I… I did anyway, didn’t I?”

It’s like the final thread keeping her heart afloat is snapped, and it shatters as it crashes in her stomach. Something escapes her upon that impact, something between a gasp and a sob, and it has Kento pressing his entire hand against her face, cupping her cheek and hoping he could provide even an ounce of the comfort she deserved. This was all because of him, after all. A knot forms between his brows and she frowns deeply as he takes in all of the hurt she’s feeling, taking responsibility for every second of it.

“No,” She breathes out, her head barely shaking with the protest. “I loved you, Ken,” She confesses, and she’s not sure if it relieves a weight on her chest or makes it worse, but she runs with it.

There was nothing left to lose, they’d made enough mistakes already, one more couldn’t hurt, right?

“I- I still love you, I’ll always love you,” She starts to stammer but there’s not a single pause in her voice. “Whether you stay or leave, that doesn’t just go away”

The pad of his thumb presses a little harder into her cheekbone, and he moves in closer, staring at her intently as he takes in everything she said, basking in it, in all of it’s melancholy and sweetness, in the relief of after all these years, finally knowing how she feels. Finally knowing that he’d never imagined things, that his feelings were reciprocated.

“I loved you, too,” He murmurs, and with the hand that’s still holding hers, he squeezes, maybe tighter than he should have, but he needed to make sure this wasn’t another cruel nightmare that he’d wake up from any second now. He lets a beat pass just to be sure. “I still love you, too” He repeats.

She sniffles, gasps quietly, and then the smallest of smiles begins to stretch across her lips.

When she leans forward, he brushes his lips over the crown of her head before he presses his forehead into hers. His eyes fall shut and he keeps his hold on her secure. It was still freezing out, the cold had settled in all of his limbs by now, but he needed to be with her here just a little bit longer.

“You don’t know how much I missed you, Ken” She mumbles, the tip of her cold nose brushing into his as she pressed a little bit closer.

He chuckles, and it’s not a humored laugh, more bittersweet and regretful, but it warms her heart just to hear it anyways. When he whispers back to her it’s so sweet that she melts away completely. Her shattered heart is welded back together solely through the power of Nanami Kento’s gentle presence and even gentler words.

“I think I have a pretty good idea, sweetheart”

[ cause this is crazy love // i’ll catch you on the flip side ]

✩₊˚.⋆☾⋆⁺₊✧

xoxo ~ jordie

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nnight-dances · 4 months

Text

SWEET BOY

PAIRING: lee seokmin x f!reader (ft. choi vernon)

GENRE: fluff, angst

TROPES: older brother figure to lover, childhood friends to lovers, coworkers to lovers, jealousy, skinship, dk being a blushy idiot and you being a plain idiot.

lines are funny when it comes to your life. lines drawn from one point to another, lines forced to keep your work life and your personal life, but most important the big daunting line between you and your crush of nearly two years now, dokyeom.

it's funny, it really is, given how much time you've spent riling yourself up over him, telling yourself that he should retain the role he always had in your life: the older brother figure. because dokyeom's heart-warmingly kind, no even more so– blood-curdingly kind, painfully nice to everyone he meets, patient beyond imagination. he's worse than any nice guys you've met, simply because he fits the archetype too well to be real.

"don't you get tired?" you ask him, when he shows up at your door, clutching bags of take-out food, no doubt after hearing from your mom how you haven't had a chance to eat. yet, you'd emphasized to her after you'd made the mistake of letting her know you were too busy to cook.

"shouldn't i be asking you that?" dokyeom grunts as he lets himself into your house, familiar with the place like the back of his hand. "i know mr. ko called you in and gave you an earful for missing the last deadline, but that's no excuse to skip meals."

okay, worth mentioning is the fact that while you knew dokyeom since childhood thanks to the fact that you grew up in the same household, you'd also ended up moving to the city to sign a contract with the publishing company where he worked at, as an editor. it was half a coincidence, because you can't say you sought out the company simply on its merits.

you sigh as you stretch out a crick in your neck, "i'm not doing this because mr. ko told me to. i'm fine, i'm just trying to clear up my schedule before the end of the year. god knows i don't want to be working on new year's eve."

"and you won't," dokyeom takes off his coat, revealing a light blue sweater underneath, one that you've grown fond of. it's a sweet sweater, for a sweet man.

"well, thanks, anyway. for the food. sorry if my mom pestered you into doing this."

"i don't want to hear a word out of you till you've eaten."

you obey him silently, taking out the lukewarm bánh mì from its bag and starting to eat. dokyeom watches with a slight smile, noting how your hair was in a ponytail, a rare occurrence. just another indication that you were forcing yourself to work too hard.

"what am i going to with you…" he muses to himself, slowly tidying up the mess on your writing corner. the little wooden table you'd spent hours studying and testing before buying, is crowded with stationery and a few notebooks. your laptop sits blank, screen indicating that it was close to dying. dokyeom brushes off the stray balls of napkins off and into the small trashcan next to the chair, followed by all the tiny eraser dust particles. he's just plugged in your laptop when he hears you call out his name softly.

"hmm?" he calls back. "you want some coffee?" you ask and when dokyeom arches a brow at you, you wave your empty hands, "i'm done eating! can a girl not want a warm liquid post-meal?"

"fine, fine. i'll have some, thanks." he laughs as you glare at him, mumbling incoherencies about him.

"oh, right, i almost forgot to tell you," dokyeom pulls out his phone, ten minutes later when the two of you are settled on the couch, waiting for your steaming mugs to settle down a little. "there's a department-wide party this sunday, an end of year gathering or something. you should come, i hear the budget this year's crazy. it's at a fancy hotel and everything."

you narrow your eyes at dokyeom, "i don't know about that. work parties are a slog, dude. i can't stand to get drunk with the people who literally torture the creativity out of me."

"that's harsh, y/n. and an exaggeration."

"whatever…" you fiddle with the sleeves of your sweatshirt, "i… i don't even have a date. it's kind of a short notice to find someone anyway–"

"i'll be your date," dokyeom offers, faster than either of you could comprehend his response. his ears flush, "um, i mean, i'll go with you, if you don't… mind."

"why would i mind? i just thought you'd have someone to go with already," you say and when you catch the shy look on your friend's face, "unless of course, nobody's asked you. which i totally understand."

"hey! i don't want to take names but i've had to tell some people no already. so don't–"

"oh? so you rejected the people who did ask you? i thought you were too nice to do that. "

"yeah, i did. i didn't want to go with them. i don't know them well enough to guarantee they'll be fun for the entire night. plus, it's messy going with someone from work. you agree once, who's to say they'll keep asking you for life?"

"i'm someone from work, too," you point out, averting your gaze to the coffee, watching the evaporation swirl around.

"you're different, silly," dokyeom chuckles out, arm hitting yours, "we're already messy. i knew you before work, and i'll know you long after. we're more than that, you know?"

that? whatever he meant, you find your heart soaring ever so much, "hm, i suppose you're not wrong. fine, i'll come to the party." if it's with you.

that night you find yourself obsessing over this conversation. what did dk mean we're already messy? you were messy? you knew he didn't mean that like a bad thing but the word unsettled you anyway. your feelings for him only made it harder to listen to him objectively, especially when he says stuff like we're more than that. more than what, exactly?

–

dokyeom's having a hell of a day, carrying around a headache he's had since this morning and a heavy to-do list that doesn't seem to be going anywhere despite the fact that he's been at his desk for about five hours now. he sits back with a grunt, taking his eyes off his screen for a moment to take a break.

as soon as he tunes back into the physical world around him, he overhears his coworkers chatting near his desk, instant coffeee in hand.

"yo, you're kidding! how'd you get her number finally?" ren, a newbie, elbows the man next to him. vernon, the man in question, is grinning too wide for his own good.

"i just asked her for it. i told her i had some important doubts about her new manuscript."

"that didn't annoy her?"

"nah, y/n's chill like that. she was super nice about it, too, telling me she would love to hear from me."

ren gasps dramatically, "no way, do you think she–"

dokyeom clears his throat with a start, having had enough as an eavesdropper for the day. he stands up, making eye-contact with vernon who shoots him a nonchalant smile. it pisses dokyeom off, how wasn't he bothered?

his headache's only getting worse so he decides to get himself something to eat while he's at it. some fresh air might help him. he shoots the pair a stiff smile as he leaves the office, hand clutching his phone a little too hard. as he gets into the elevator, he's alerted of a message.

speak of the devil, he thinks when your name pops up on his screen. am i expected to dress formal for this party? you ask.

only if u want to :) he shoots back.

… what kind of an answer is that.

an honest one. expectations are only as high as you want them to be.

you know i hate you right

enough to ask me to be ur date? <3 <3

you're befuddled on the other side of the chat, "who asked who?" you mumble, choosing to not respond to dokyeom's frustrating reply to your very genuine question.

dokyeom, on the other hand, is feeling much better now that he's had a chance to talk to you. where you're reserved about your feelings for him, dokyeom really couldn't be more transparent about them. or so he thinks. but really, he's convinced he couldn't be clearer about how he feels about you– instantaneous responses to your texts, making sure you eat on time, corresponding with your mom to reassure her of your good health, careful attention to what you're into at the time so he can buy you the things you refuse to splurge on.

to dokyeom, this was the clearest confession of his love for you. the only reason he hasn't vocalized it in person is because he doubts any good would come out of it. he's more than happy with the relationship he has with you, a safe enough distance but a warm closeness anyway. besides, he's pretty certain you think of him as more of a brother than anything. an older brother figure you've known since you were children. better to keep things the way they were. right?

–

dokyeom's increasily unsure about his convictions to keep things the same. maybe it had something to do with the fact that you look breathtaking tonight. you're adorned in the prettiest pink dress, eyes sparkling more than usual thanks to the glitter you'd dabbed on and hair cascading down to your shoulders in curls that has him a little weak in the knees.

he does visibly gape at you when you greet him at the door with a small smile. he's flustered enough to be out of words so you're left speaking to a shell of him. "hey, you're a little earlier than i imagined. i'm almost ready. come in though."

when he stands still despite your invitation, you frown. "dokyeom?" he bites his lip as he comes to and nods, walking in after you. "you good?"

"yeah, just a little nervous."

"nervous?"

"you look really pretty," he musters, reddening when your eyes widen at his honest confession, "i'm a little dizzy." the two statements are correlated but you don't pick up on that, instead becomes concerned. you take his arm and your cold touch on his arm only sends him further down his dazed condition.

"dizzy? that's no good. come sit," you pull him to the couch, making him take a seat. god, dokyeom thinks he's dreaming when you touch his cheek, "do you need medicine? warm tea? water?"

he clears his throat, "n-no, i'm fine," he lets himself fall against the cushions, closing his eyes against the rush in his veins. "just– you should go get ready. i'll be back to normal soon."

you look at him in confusion for a prolonged few seconds before giving up and doing as he said. when you come back, you have a lip gloss and heels on. "okay," you announce to the back of dokyeom's head, "i'm ready, dk."

he sits up quickly, head clearing up now. he turns around to you and smiles a cheerful smile that is much more like him. "alright! let's go!"

you watch him warily anyway, all the way to his car. "ah, your hair–" you reach out to the back of his head where some hair stuck out from his earlier meltdown. gently, you brush the disturbances away, fingers swift in their adminstrations. dokyeom thinks he might break down again, the gesture making him feel giddy all over again. it doesn't help when he feels your warm breath on his neck when you sigh, returning to your seat. "ok, no more hair casualities, we are set to go."

dokyeom can't afford to look up at you so he simply starts the car, keeping his head straight so he can drive the both of you to the venue safely.

being in a room bustling with people he knows really helps dokyeom, for as soon as you reach the hall, he takes off in a rush, something about having to greet everyone that's important. you don't know to feel about his flight but you manage to shrug it off, trusting him enough to know he'll be back before long.

you station yourself near the refreshments, finding yourself a flute of champagne and some hors d'oeuvres to keep you company while dokyeom does what he does. you find yourself mildly enjoying yourself, people-watching all sorts of groups and downing your second serving of champagne, when you're joined by someone.

it's kitty, a coworker you're less than fond of, thanks to her loud mouth and overwhelming beauty. she's dressed in an immaculate white dress, face glowing even in the harsh light as she smiles at you. "y/n!"

"kitty," you acknowledge her with a cordial nod of your own, hoping this wouldn't take too long.

"how've you been? you look much better than the last time i saw, so not too bad i hope!"

your smile sours, "i'm fine, kitty. nice to see you're feeling as chatty as usual."

"i am! what better ocassion than a party to be social," she remarks pointedly and you contain a sigh. kitty was an important coworker, unfortunately for you, with her in charge for your public image and general likeability. it really should be criminal how little she likes you for someone who has to make sure you appeal to the masses.

"i didn't even think i'd see you around. you have a date?"

"i'm here with dokyeom, yeah."

this seems to startle kitty, because she's speechless for a moment. "dokyeom? he said yes to you?"

ignoring whatever undertones of disbelief kitty's giving off, you roll your eyes, "it was more that he forced me to come with him, but yeah, sure, however you wanna say it."

"wow, dokyeom's really kind to do that. he even turned me down. he must really treasure your friendship."

now you've had enough of her insinuations, so you cut the chat short. "sorry, kitty, i need to use the bathroom. excuse me."

you break away from her, feeling the weight of her glare at your aloofness. you really don't care for her snarky remarks usual, long-accustomed to the kind of gossip she likes to generate. but tonight, your tolerance was low. you didn't want to think about why dokyeom asked you to come to the party, and you certainly didn't want kitty's suggestions marinate in your mind. but it's too late, you feel your chest tighten at the thought of dokyeom feeling pity for you, asking you to come because that's just how kind he was, and you, his best charity case.

dokyeom spots you from across the room where he's eventually recovered from his weak condition. he feels guilt spike through his veins when he sees you storm away from kitty, who's no doubt spewed some obnoxious nonsense to make you leave the room with that tense expression of yours.

he excuses himself from his conversation to run off after you, managing to catch you as you leave the hall.

"y/n!" he calls out, catching ahold of your shoulder. "where are you going?"

you stop, startled by dokyeom's interception. you slowly turn around, trying your best to neutralize your expression. "um, just using the bathroom. i drank that champagne a little too fast."

"oh, you sure you're okay? i saw you talking to kitty earlier and i know how frustrating she can be."

you laugh mirthlessly, "i'll be okay as long as i don't run into her in the next five months or so." you turn away, presumably toward the washroom. you'd hoped your explanation would be enough to soothe dokyeom's curiosity but then you hear him follow after you.

"dk?"

"i'll go with you."

"to the washroom?"

"uh, yeah. i'll walk you in case you can't find your way back."

"they have signs everywhere and the party's in the biggest hall here– i– whatever, i need to pee too bad to argue with you right now."

from thereon, dokyeom doesn't leave your side for a second. you don't know what to think of it but you don't complain because your mood's much better when you spend your time by his side, shitting on the ocassional passerby and laughing at each other's jokes.

dokyeom regrets leaving you by yourself in the first place, especially because he's almost too certain that kitty had told you he'd turned her invitation down. it was awkward to even look at her, let alone talk to her. but then again, she's never been one to care about other people's comfort because about halfway into the night, you spot her trailing back to your table with a few people following her.

the group crowds your table and you find yourself pressed against a stranger who no doubt works with kitty. he shoots you a sleazy smile and you're grateful when you feel dokyeom subtly pull you closer toward him with a hand around your waist. what you don't expect is him to leave him arm there, draped down your back, finger resting against the small of lower back, sending chills up your spine.

"hey, you two! what're you upto, you've been stuck to this table for the entire night," kitty laughs.

dokyeom notices vernon among the group, much to his chagrin, smiling at you boyishly. you wave back at vernon with a soft chuckle, thankful that not everyone in this crowd was a snoozefest.

"just talking," is dokyeom's curt response. "are y'all enjoying the party?" he adresses the larger group, making it a point to not look at kitty.

"i wish there was more real food," someones pipes in with a grunt and people laugh in agreement.

"the wine's really good though. expensive stuff," vernon points out, looking at the wine glass propped between you and dokyeom.

"yeah, it's maybe the best thing about this party," you chime in with a smile. before dokyeom can somehow bring up the fact that he'd been drinking out of the same glass as you, ren gasps out loud, "oh my god, guys, the mistletoe man's back!"

you look around in confusion and find a man dressed in green overalls walking around with some mistletoe stuck his chest, neatly tied with a red ribbon stuck to his chest. "the fuck?" you mumble out and dokyeom laughs at your bewilderment. "it's a stupid tradition," dokyeom says softly to you, "heard someone say it's to foster closer connections between workers."

"by forcing them to kiss?" you whisper back with a grimace as you watch a pair break away from their kiss with bitter expressions. it's fine though because they look at each other's disgust and break into laughter, their table cheering them on.

"i think it's cute!" kitty remarks, watching the man as he turns around from a few tables over.

"shit, i think he's coming over here," ren curses. "why's that a bad thing?" kitty questions, smiling, eyes glued to the side of dokyeom's face. you might gouge your eyes out one of these days. you're too busy ignoring the ruckus kitty's causing with her frantic giggles as the mistetoe man approaches her. but then he goes past her and she goes silent, eyes coming to still behind you. that's when you realize the mistletoe man's standing square between you and dokyeom.

you turn around to the man with wide eyes but he simply smiles, "the mistletoe man knows when he sees two lovers!" you don't know what he means till you become aware of dokyeom's arm around you. he pulls away in surprise and his face is red when you look up at dokyeom.

"this is stupid," you murmur, hoping he'll agree and you wouldn't have to participate in this tradition.

"kiss! kiss! kiss!" ren starts a chant and everyone but kitty and vernon is quick to join in. dokyeom looks bewildered at the unison, and he looks at you, then down at your lips. "we don't have to do this," he comforts you.

"do you want to?" you ask him under your breath. you feel yourself flushing.

"i'll do it if you want to."

you hate how agreeable dokyeom is sometimes, wishing he would decide for you, for this once. you don't want to think about all the eyes on you, the whispering that's no doubt been reignited. everyone knows you and dokyeom have been friends and maybe something more for years now, but to witness conclusive proof is thrilling to them.

you feel frozen with the weight of the decision upon you. but then kitty opens her stupid mouth, "ah, dokyeomie, you don't have to do something you don't want to–"

that spurs you on, you find yourself pressing yourself against dokyeom, raising yourself to his height so you can press your lips to his. he meets you halfway, as if he'd been waiting for you to do exactly this, his large hand finding your cheek so he can seal the deal.

this goes without saying, you've never kissed dokyeom before, but the way it feels so natural has you questioning if this really was the first time. his lips are pillowy against yourself, his breath hitting your face sweetly when you finally pull away. his eyes are hooded like you've never seen them and you really wish you could memorize this feeling, ingrain it into your mind for later.

but the moment breaks when you hear the table around you erupt with all kinds of reactions. you don't care to look though, too busy with your own reaction to handle. your heart's fluttering but your eyes feel watery when you pull away from dokyeom. you don't know what to think of all the lines you've been worrying about, the line between you and dokyeom cracking the moment you leaned into his lips.

–

dokyeom's scared for his life right now. after the chaos around you settled a little, you'd looked at him and quietly asked if he could drive you home right now. he'd been quick to agree, following you out of the door without bidding anyone goodbye. but you're silent the entire walk to his car, not answering him when he asks if you're okay.

now that you're settled in the car, he pauses before starting the engine. "y/n," he starts softly. you focus on your breathing, staring down at your hands blankly. "i'm sorry."

this makes you look up at him, mouth slightly ajar. "...why are you sorry?" you ask quietly, lips set in a narrow line.

"i– that must have made you uncomfortable. i didn't know what else to–"

"i was the one who kissed you," you comment, looking away and out the window, hands now fists in your lap. dokyeom watches as you tuck some stray strands of hair behind your ear, "i should be sorry."

should be, because you weren't a bit sorry about the kiss. the circumstances that caused it? sure. but the kiss itself wasn't something you would undo.

dokyeom doesn't know what to say because there's so much to say. where does he even start? "i thought you always saw me as a… brother."

"what?" your eyes hold a sea of disbelief in them but then as you blink back at a solemn dokyeom, you think it's not that crazy for him to think that after all. "well, i used to. how could i not? mom had drilled it into my system to rely on you like you were family."

dokyeom hums, "...and?"

"i mean, i clearly don't think… i don't have the feelings of a sister toward you," you mumble, your cheeks on fire when you hear your poor phrasing. "if i did, it would be a problem that i wanted to kiss back there."

"you did?" dokyeom gapes and you look at him with a slight tilt of your head. "i– obviously!" you tell him.

he swallows, "wow. i don't even know what to think–" it's his turn to look at his hands that are trembling, "honest to god, i've never harboured anything but romantic feelings for you, y/n." he says this, head lowered as if in shame, ears revealing how embarassed he was. "i love your mother, but i swear she wanted to kill me the way she encouraged you to call me your brother when you were out with me."

you grimace, holding back a chuckle, "i'm sorry…"

"don't be," dokyeom sounds truly defeated, as if the work of hiding his feelings from you had finally caught up with him. "i'm sorry i didn't make myself clearer sooner. never imagined we'd talk about this because we got bullied into our first kiss."

you sigh, nodding as you mutter an agreement. dokyeom rises from his slouch slowly, coming to lock eyes with you. one of his hands comes to rest atop your own fist, prying it open so that you were holding his. you feel warm beyond imagination, feeling like you might burst open with the intensity of your feelings for dokyeom, wondering how you'd ever managed to keep them secret.

"can…" you stop, voice hoarse, licking your lips nervously, "will you kiss me? for real this time?"

it doesn't take dokyeom a moment's hesitation to close the distance betwen you, his soft lips back on yours, not soon enough for you to get used to the gentle saccharine daze that overcame you. your unoccupied hand card through his hair, similar to a few hours ago when you'd been fixing it, but this time dokyeom lets out the mewl he'd been contatining last time.

he pulls away with a somewhat grunt, eyes starry, "there's no way you didn't know what your were doing." you look back at him, a little breathless with a look of complete confusion.

he sighs, giving in and rest his head against yours, "when you were fixing my hair earlier, i thought i'd die of a heart attack. finally give up and move on from you, if only in death."

"don't say that, dk," you scold him, hands around him in concern, "and i don't understand why– i mean i feel like we've touched… in other ways before so–"

"i don't know either!" he exclaims, "i just– you looked so fucking gorgeous tonight and then you kept being oblivious to how obviously down bad i am for you– i just couldn't."

"hey, you weren't obvious if i didn't know! that's unfair…" you mumble, looking away with flushed cheeks. it didn't make sense to you. but dokyeom simply laughs into your shoulder, pulling you into a hug, not much of a change for your dynamic. you'd hugged dokyeom countless times before but now you feel unimaginably closer to him, like you were actually holding him, the entirety of him in your arms. it was incredible, the warmth that blossomed inside you in the silence that surrounded you. it was love.

love shows up even in the early mornings when you're with dokyeom. he'd slept over after your date last night, when you'd insisted you would be too lonely to sleep if he promptly took off (like a gentleman, he commented). you'd laid in bed till 2 am, kissing and talking the night away, his hands finding their indents underneath your worn-out tee.

you wake up to his nose snuggled in your neck, breathing softly in slumber, hair sticking out every which way. you can't help the loving giggle that leaves you, making him stir in his sleep, arm coming to sit atop your bare stomach.

"sweet boy," you mumble, placing a kiss atop his forehead and watching in awe as his brown eyes come to life at the action. "you awake?" you jokingly ask but dokyeom responds with a groggy grunt, smiling with fluttering eyes.

you run a finger through his hair. he groans, "don't wake up yet." you laugh, stroking a strand behind his ear, "but i'm already–"

he cuts you off with a pout, "no, don't wake up, love. please, want to sleep some more."

you sigh and shift impossibly closer to him. "all right, then. can't argue with that logic."

with that, you doze off again. how you manage to fall right back asleep is beyond you, though it might have something to do with the fact that dokyeom's presence brings you a serenity you didn't know you could feel, a feeling that's better than the soft comforter that he himself had picked out for your bed. his arms hold you close, the sweetness melting your heart the whole time you dream, dreaming of dokyeom and of love.

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24-2-25 · 3 months

Text

❝YOU DID THAT ON PURPOSE!❞ ― sim jake

synopsis | you’re notorious for you’re bad luck in dodgeball. seems like the cute boy from your math class also has bad luck, considering he’s always there to keep you company on the ‘out’ wall.

wc | 1.1k

pairings | jake x fem!reader

genre | one shot, fluff

tw | dodgeball??

note | i wrote this in like 2022… it’s finally out 😼

you were notorious for your bad luck in the horrid hell game, also known as dodgeball. Everyone in you class knew it, your sigh can be heard through crowd when the game is announced.

As a person who isn’t a widely known dodgeball champ, you decide to a stick near the back where it seems the safest.

wrong.

lo and behold, as you stood near the back corner of the gym hiding from the treacherous foam balls, a purple ball comes flying and hits you hard on the shoulder.

“ow fuck!” you hissed holding your shoulder. your classmate on the other side cheers and high fives one of his friends.

ew teenage boys are all the same, prepubescent, smelly and far from mature.

you sat on the edge of the wall where all of hit students stayed.

you sat your back against the wall and as you got comfortable, a soft “hi” came from above you.

“oh jake hey.” you respond, still holding your shoulder from the impact.

“ah sorry about that! beomgyu gets a little competitive when it comes to pe class.” a sheepish smile appeared on his face as he apologized.

“nah it’s all good, it’s not like this was the first time.” you laughed it off.

his face brightened at your laugh, a pointy smile forming on his face.

“yeah you always seem to be on this wall. it’s almost as if there’s a reserved spot for you!” his cute giggles fill your ears.

okay you take it back, not all teenage boys were smelly and immature. especially not jake. he was the sweetest, kindest, most athletic and academic boy in your class. not to mention his insanely good looks and cute australian accent.

with that he was the most sought out boy of your grade, and you were glad that you could call him one of your friends. at least you hope he considered you a friend. after all he always talked and texted you.

“i’m surprised you’re here. you’re like so athletic.” you smiled at him.

“oh you know.. we all have our weaknesses.”

for example you, and he thinks that’s his biggest one.

jake couldn’t remember when he started to like you. your magnetic and captivating personality seemed to catch his eye the first time he saw you interact with your friends.

he couldn’t forget your pretty face and cute smile. and the sound of your laugh? best sound to ever bless his ears.

maybe it was when you offered to show him around without being told to when he first moved from australia. maybe it was your alluring kindness and generosity. he couldn’t tell for sure, but he did know that he wanted to be yours.

“that’s funny, who knew the most athletic kid would be bad at dodge ball.” you stated and he laughed and shrugged.

“you always seem to get hit around the same time as me though. it’s like fate.” you added, laughing.

he flushes a bit and laughs.

“i’d hope it is.” he whispers.

your teacher announced a jail break and you sigh, getting up from the wall and walking towards the back of the gym.

you had a good 5 minutes of peace before a dodge ball comes rushing and hit you square in the face.

“OW!” you screech. it was foam but damn the shit hurt. the person who threw that put his blood, sweat and tears in that.

“SORRY!” a your friend jisung screamed and ran up to you.

“han jisung you did not just hit me in the face.” you sighed annoyed holding your nose.

“my bad y/n. I’m sorry!” he tried comforting you.

you let go of your nose, then a red streak of blood came rushing out of your nostril.

“it’s fine-”

“shit y/n! your nose is bleeding!” he cut you off and screamed.

you wiped your nose with you finger and saw blood, cursing under your breath.

“i’ll help you and bring you to the offi-” he offered.

“hey jisung i can take her i’m out anyways!”. jake came running toward you guys. you didn’t care who came with you, you just needed to get there.

“okay thanks jake!” jisung smiled, getting back into the game.

“let’s go quick y/n.” he ushered you out of the gym. by then, your nose was bleeding on to your sleeves.

once you got into the office and sat with a tissue in your nose, you suddenly felt a rush of embarrassment.

“oh god that was so embarrassing!” you cried.

jake who was sitting next to you with a tissue box in hand giggled a bit. “no! it wasn’t.”

“you’re laughing!” you sighed, pouting at him.

“thanks for taking me here by the way. if jisung came with me he’d probably cause chaos in here.”

“nah it’s nothing.” he stated calmly, passing you another tissue.

“no you really didn’t need to do that.” you smiled while taking the tissue and changing it out with you old one.

“it’s funny that you got out at the same time though. again on accident i can’t believe it!”

“yeah on accident.” he sounded guilty?

“wait you did it on purpose?” you rose a brow.

“uh…no.”

“yes you did. why?” you questioned.

“because i wanted to be close to you.”

your mind was buzzing with questions and confusion. why would he want to be close to you? why would he lose on purpose? he loves sports.

“you see, i’ve kinda liked you since last year and i never really get the time to see you unless it’s gym or math class.” he suddenly got shy and avoided you gaze.

“huh? me? why?” you asked, confused. why would he like you? you didn’t consider yourself as pretty nor did he ever show interest in you before. where did this come from.

“it’s okay if you don’t like me bac-”

“i like you too.” you blushed.

“wait really?” his eyes widened.

“why wouldn’t i? you so sweet and smart and like amazing. why do you like me?”

“your just-“ he sighs almost lovingly and you immediately knew.

you laugh. “you’re silly! why would you lose purposely at a game to sit with me by the wall?”

“because i can’t talk to you otherwise, only on texts.”

“whatever goof, let’s go back to class.” you laughed again, getting up.

“fine, but only if you agree to a date with me?” he asked, extending his hand.

“sure, jake.” you smile, taking his hand and exiting the office.

maybe your bad luck in dodgeball wasn’t so bad.

#enhypen fanfiction #enhypen x reader #jake fanfic #jake sim x reader #jake x reader #jake enhypen #jake sim fanfic #jake x you #jake fluff #jake imagines #jake sim scenarios #jake sim fluff #jake sim imagines #sim jake x reader #✧― meimeiwrites!

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fleurriee · 10 months

Text

— earth and sea ; neteyam sully

pairing ; neteyam sully x fem!reader

synopsis ; since meeting neteyam, you had found yourself making a new friend you were comfortable around. or maybe he was starting to become more than a friend....?

word count ; 5k

themes ; fluff, tiny bit of angst

warnings ; mentions of anxiety & feeling scared of interactions (me), small dosage of reader not feeling good enough for certain things/neteyam…

author's note ; is this going too fast? a part of me feels like it is, but then the other part of me doesn’t care bc i found these two absolutely adorable & want nothing more than to just shower them in the love they deserve?? they’re soulmates, what else was i supposed to do, hmm?? also, i like to think that whilst na’vi do court their mates, they’re quite quick with it, like they just want to be mated and start a family, is this just me or i’m i thinking too much on this?? anyway, i really hope u enjoy this chapter bc it’s adorable and fluffy and ughggghhh!! apologies it took so long <33

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day and night series masterlist main masterlist request a fic!

In the short span of time that had passed between that first day when the Sully family arrived in your home, seeking uturu and pleading for the safety of their lives, your life had slowly began to change.

Because, in all that time, Neteyam Sully, the eldest son of the two new outsiders, had been nothing but kind to you.

The conversation you’d had that one time with him, when teaching the other Sully’s how to properly travel within the waters, had clearly sent him some messages you weren’t aware of. Since then, he’d sought you out more, wanting to be a part of your company and slowly chip away the walls you’d built for protection against your own fragile heart all those years ago. You guess you should’ve known this would be happening - he did ask whether or not there was a chance you’d get along with him - and, now, he was doing everything to ensure that you did.

Neteyam picked up on your shy mannerisms, too, during this time, realising that compared to the rest of the clan he’d met, you weren’t exactly the most confident one out there. It was difficult for you to do or say or go through certain things than it was for others, but, he understood that. He understood that because he was never overbearing to you, never putting you under any pressure in anything in particular, never forcing you to do anything you didn’t want to do.

And, slowly but surely, he was right. You were beginning to get along with someone like Neteyam Sully. This boy - someone who you shouldn’t have gotten along with in the first place simply because of your stark differences, someone who you should’ve stayed away from because everywhere he went, danger followed his family - made you feel nervous. But, it wasn’t the normal feeling of nerves that would settle at the bottom of your stomach, festering and rotting themselves whole until you wanted nothing more than to claw them out. No, these nerves felt like beautiful butterflies swarming gracefully within you, ones you were slowly beginning to enjoy and seek out more of.

They made you feel more alive, and so did he.

Of course, you couldn’t have been going through all of this, basking in the territory of the unknown, without Tsireya being there and knowing about it, too. You hadn’t told her too much, not wanting to overshare, but, you’d made sure to tell her enough that you could go to her should you have the sudden need to rant or ask any confusing questions. It also wouldn’t be Tsireya if she didn’t slightly tease you whenever you were alone with Neteyam (which, actually, happened to be more times than you’d come to realise…), loving the idea of her lifelong friend slowly beginning to poke her head out of her safety blanket of a shell and become the person she really was for all to see.

As your best friend, she loved seeing you comfortable in places or circumstances you never thought you would’ve been in. Clearly, Neteyam was a good influence on you, and she was entirely too happy that the two of you had met.

But, even with the time of meeting them having passed by in a sudden blur to you, it clearly wasn’t going as fast to the rest of the world, the Sully’s included. The younger of the lot were still continuing to struggle with fully taming their ilu’s, despite the several times you all had tried teaching them. Some had it better than others (mainly the girl’s, but you weren’t surprised there), but there were still moments where even they couldn’t get it down to perfection, not to the point it needed to be at if they wanted to live within Awa’atlu.

After much deliberation, yourself and the others decided the cause of their struggles was due their breathing techniques and not being able to hold it as good as it needed to be. So, Tsireya exclaimed that it would be better to attempt to tackle that problem first. That way, they might improve in other aspects, too, arranging a day for the group of you to focus on that particular area.

Sat in a circle, legs crossed over as each of you faced one another, you showed them the correct way they should be controlling themselves within the depths of the waters. Tuk was situated in front of you, allowing you to help instruct her like you’d requested - she was a delight to teach, and you wished to continue to do so throughout her entire Metkayina training - and you were in between both Tsireya and Neteyam, a situation that fell into place subconsciously without either of you fully realising it.

Tsireya’s calming words spoke comfort over those learning, guiding them in the right direction as they each watched on in earnest, wanting to best at something they weren’t expected to all those years ago in their home. You watched with tender eyes as Tuk’s own never left the girl, doing her best to replicate her movements. Leaning forwards, you held your palm against the youngest girl’s stomach, delicately pushing it further and allowing her to even herself out as she held her breath. Even when doing so, wavering on, she sent you a small, slightly giddy smile of appreciation. It was clear she was getting the hang of it.

However, someone who wasn’t getting the hang of it like his youngest sister was the eldest one to your right. You noticed in your peripheral vision that he wasn’t doing it correctly, the way you’d been showing him, as he stuttered on his breathing and struggled to calm himself down when he felt it leave his lungs.

There was a moment of hesitation that filtered through your veins as you thought your options over, knowing what you needed to do - not only to help aid Neteyam in his exercises, but to also push yourself that little bit further. You were doing so well, especially with Neteyam, and you didn’t want things to end with him.

So, with one last lingering look around the rest of the group and taking note that each of them were focusing on their own breathing or guiding someone else, you turned a little in Neteyam’s direction, patting gently atop his arm. In an instant, he’s stopping, looking over and down at you expectantly, and you immediately feel the butterflies make their home within your stomach once more - how could they not, when his eyes only filter in your own, so intense and eager?

You watch as he leans subconsciously closer down to you, making sure that he would be able to hear every quiet word you uttered to him. This was a move that had happened recently, but one that made you feel seen. Because, Neteyam knew that you struggled with words sometimes, and when you finally gained the courage to say something, it wasn’t always the loudest. But, still, he wanted to hear every word you had to offer, and he wasn’t going to miss anything you said to him.

This time, however, you struggled to say anything, staying silent, instead. You found that the words you wished to speak, the question you wanted to ask him, was getting stuck in the back of your throat, something that happens more times than you’d like to admit. And, you hated it when this happened, because it made you look so stupid. How could someone struggle asking a simple question, when it was the easiest thing in the world?

In an instant, it’s as though your mood suddenly deflated, and you feel terrible about yourself. Your eyes gaze upon the floor, too scared to look the boy in front of you in the eyes and show him your vulnerability, despite knowing he’d understand - after all, he’d seen you go through this before.

And, when you feel one of the most gentlest taps against the top of your knee, knowing already that it had come from him, you slowly realise that you don’t need to hide from him, because in some way, he’s like Tsireya. He’s someone you can trust wholeheartedly without any worry of being judged or belittled… the only difference is there are other feelings lingering there with the Omatikaya boy, ones you’re still too scared to admit.

When you make eye contact with him again, there’s already such a soft look upon his features, the sunlight painting him in an ethereal light as he smiles reassuringly down at you. Those butterflies are back again, almost like they’d never left, and just one looked shared between the two of you had your spirits lifted once more.

You don’t think about the words you couldn’t speak anymore, simply refusing to acknowledge them and let your mood decrease again, instead pointing downwards, motioning to his stomach and looking back up at him in waiting.

It was obvious he was confused, just by the look of him - from the way his brows furrowed, questions lingering behind his gaze, and his mouth turned, trying to think of all the things you could’ve meant. So, you push your palm flat against your own stomach to help line your breathing, before motioning back over to him.

There’s a small oh that escapes his lips upon the realisation, a blush forming on his cheeks as with a giddy smile and sheepishly nodding. He gives you the space to move, watching as you hesitantly bring your hand close to him, before pushing your palm against his stomach. This is the closest the two of you have been to one another, accepting the boundaries between the two of you and never touching the other in such an intimate way.

It’s obvious the move has its affects towards the both of you, as you feel Neteyam’s breathing begin to stutter upon the contact, shaky exhales falling from his lips. There’s no doubt a darkness to your cheeks, too, as you feel everything within you begin to heat up, and you’re not quite sure how you’re supposed to react to all of this, ensuring to keep your gaze locked on your hand to further any embarrassment that might occur. Neteyam, however, simply cannot take his gaze away from your face, basking in each of your features and willing them to imprint themselves within his mind, not wanting to forget a single detail about you. You’re so ethereal to him, so beautiful and enchanting that the thought alone causes his ears to flutter and his tail to smack gently against the ground in a small burst of excitement.

His trance within your presence helps calm his breathing, and when you feel that, along with the soft patter of his tail against the sand, you bring your hand back to your person. There’s a proud smile already lingering upon your lips, happy that you had managed to help teach him something, but also happy for him having gotten better at something, too, that when you look up, only to find him already intensely gaze at you, everything falters within you. It feels as though your heart had just skipped a beat, as though your smile faltered and became a little shaky, and all that was on your mind was him.

He has gazing at you in such an intimate way even when you weren’t concentrating, when you were paying any attention… imagine how he’d look if the two of you ever had something more.

You’re only broken from your thoughts, the staring contest between the two of you not faltering, when you’re brought back to reality when he speaks up. “Thank you,” he says, breathlessly, almost as though he’s in some type of trance, words strangely quiet.

Collecting yourself to the best of your ability, you smile up at him slightly shakily, nodding, struggling to form any words due to a mixture of being out of your comfort zone and basking in the way this boy was looking at you, hoping your actions conveyed the words you wished you could say.

In that moment, too, you realised how close the two of you had gotten, your faces so close to one another, like any moment now, something else could’ve happened.

And, something might’ve done, but you would never know when suddenly, everything filters back into the front of your mind as to where you are and who you’re with. The sound of chuckles made their way to your ears, the once Neteyam-filled trance dissipating and focusing instead on those around you. Your head snaps in the direction of the laughter only to find Rotxo and Lo’ak giggling to themselves as they looked on at you two; Kiri and Ao’nung were rolling their eyes and grumbling under their breaths; Tsireya was trying to keep her ever-growing smile hidden behind her hand, and Tuk was none-the-wiser, too busy concentrating still on her breathing exercises.

“Oh, shut up,” Neteyam groans, speaking up before you can even attempt to hide away. He shoves the top of his younger brother’s head, before Lo’ak pushes him back. Before you know it, they’re shoving one another teasingly, in a way you know brothers do after, having seen ‘fights’ like this beforehand.

You find yourself laughing softly at their antics, watching as they push and shove at one another before they’re both on the ground, and your eyes subconsciously travel over to Tsireya like they always do, like they always wish to seek her out, just for one small moment of comfort. She throws a knowing look your way, one that has your cheeks heating up again, but then her smile turns gentle and tender, reassuring - after all, at the beginning of all of this, Tsireya was the one who had said that this could be good for you, and now look at where you were. Sure, things were still going to be difficult for you - you had no doubt they always would be - but, already, you were doing things you never thought you’d be able to do just months ago.

Looking back over at Neteyam as he had his little brother pinned against the ground, demanding jokingly that he apologise to him for whatever reason you didn’t know, you realised that you were slowly starting to believe that Tsireya was right.

Only a few days had passed since that moment shared between yourself and Neteyam, but somehow, it had felt like longer. In that time, you hadn’t had the opportunity to see him again - your clan were planning a small celebration together (although, they were never small when it came to the Metkayina, so you knew exactly what to expect), and your time had been taken up by helping them prepare.

A small part of you was just slightly grateful that you hadn’t been able to see him yet, mainly because you needed to get yourself together, and truly understand what you were feeling. You had an inkling, but it wasn’t like you’d felt something like this before, and you didn’t really know what to do with it.

Tsireya had obviously been a huge help, and she’d told the truth, one you knew was inevitable. You’d been thinking the same thing, and maybe you were just too scared to admit it. But, when Tsireya said what even she knew to be true, it was like everything fell into place and some things began to make sense.

Neteyam began to make sense.

So, begrudgingly, that’s why you find yourself willingly turning up to the clan get-together, secretly telling yourself that it wasn’t really because you wanted to just catch a simple glimpse of him, but because you helped set this up. Even you couldn’t convince yourself that well.

The entire front was alive the moment eclipse had fallen towards the ground, setting the atmosphere alight with so many different spirits. There were several tables aligned along the edge, a variety of foods you swore you couldn’t even name they were so exotic, the hunters having gone out extra early to collect so much; a group of Na’vi were at the front, swaying to the music they were creating and lighting everything up with their melodic voices, creating an aroma of peace and tranquillity.

Everyone you had ever come to see in your short life was present, either dancing along with the music or chatting away their day with a friend or their families. So much noise was filtering in through your ears, you could barely hear yourself think.

Things like this were never your thing, simply because of the amount of people in one area and how loud it could get - when you enjoyed listening to the soft sounds of nature on your own, you were never going to get along with an environment like this. But, like you’d told yourself, you had helped put this together, and it only felt right to watch as others enjoyed themselves in their element, basking in the feeling of the family of Metkayina coming together as one… definitely not for Neteyam…

Arms crossed over your chest like a protective mechanism, shielding yourself away from anything that made you feel even slightly uncomfortable, you stayed towards the edge, not wanting to get mixed up in the thick of the crowd, knowing that would only be your worst nightmare. Your eyes flickered from one set of people to another, searching for your best friend, only to quickly find her close to Lo’ak, the two of them sitting side by side, smiles bright and achingly adorable. Hoping to talk to Tsireya, you let this one time go, knowing she was enjoying herself with someone she really cared for, especially after the talk the two of you had no too long ago where she admitted to finding him attractive.

So, you left the two of them to it, staying in your hidden place at the back, too scared to venture any further. Allowing the sounds of wonder, awe, and bliss reach your ears and satiate a part of you inside that warms at the idea of happiness, you’re too focused somewhere else to realise there’s someone coming up behind you. “Not a party person?” they question, their voice unintentionally startling you.

Your head turns around quickly, wanting to get to the source of the scare as soon as possible, only to find the other person you’d been hoping to find - Neteyam. He hadn’t changed much for the get-together - some people like to go extra and all the way, dressing up in their most fanciest clothing just to show themselves off, but, Neteyam stuck to his roots, his usual clothes adorning his muscled skin, the same ones he ritually kept from his home in the forest.

You liked him that way.

With a calming sigh, one to rest your suddenly beating heart, you turn your attention back to the rest of the clan in front of you. “Not really,” you reply, shrugging.

“Yeah, me neither.” Neteyam laughs nonchalantly, slowly taking steps to walk up beside you. You can’t resist the small smile that begins to curve up your lips at his attempt to start a conversation with you.

Silence envelops the two of you, something that seems to happen more often than not, but you can’t find yourself dreading it. No, you’re basking in it - in everything around you. There’s such a loving atmosphere filtering in around you, from the clan, the people, from Neteyam. Just being in his presence alone seems to make you the happiest you’ve been, and you realise there’s nothing you won’t do to continue chasing that feeling.

But, whilst you soak up in the silence, the Na’vi next to you can’t seem to take it anymore. “Look,” he started, moving forwards so he’s standing directly in front of you, capturing your whole attention. Now your eyes are on him, you notice he’s looking a little nervous - his hands are fidgeting, fingers wringing and his eyes are flickering between each of your own, like they’re not sure what they should really be doing. He takes a deep breath, like he’s preparing himself, and you find yourself leeching onto that nervousness of his and taking some of it as your own. “I know that this might be a bit out-of-nowhere - or maybe it isn’t… I kind of hope it isn’t - but I… like you, like… really like you. And, I was hoping maybe we could try…” he gestures between the two of you, his words so unbelievably soft and scared, “…this?” Your eyes have widened automatically, in complete disbelief at what he’s just admitted and asked you. “But, only if you want to,” he quickly adds on, not wanting you to feel any type of pressure. “You know, I don't want to make you uncomfortable in anyway." There’s a small laugh at the end of his rambling, one that’s hesitant and hopefully understanding.

His words course and filter their way inside your mind as it begins to cloud over with so many different, lingering thoughts. You’re not quite sure what to focus on first, because you’ve never done this before, and you’ve never really prepared for it. Sure, you knew one day there would come a time where you’d have to choose a mate and go through the whole process of courting, but you’d never spoken about it in much detail with your mother. So, now that something similar was happening before your very eyes - with Neteyam, nonetheless, someone you had come to treasure hardheartedly within you - you didn’t know where to start.

The butterflies swarming in your stomach had come back, crediting to this entire situation. Thinking on it, you knew since the moment you’d first laid eyes on him, you had found Neteyam Sully attractive - how could you not? - but, not once did you ever believe he could think of you in the same way, and especially not enough to tell you that he wanted to try the two of you out together. None of this made sense - you weren’t good enough for Toruk Makto’s eldest son; you weren’t good enough for someone who was supposed to be an Olo’eyktan back in his home.

But, despite thinking these things, that didn’t mean you didn’t want him in the same way. Your negative thoughts were trying to put you down, attempting to steer you in the opposite direction and away from a beautiful opportunity presented in front of your very eyes, one that could blossom into something ethereal and unique if you didn’t give it a try. In your fight against yourself, you look down at the ground, swallowing deeply as you think over your next words. You need this time to truly understand what could happen next with whatever words come out of your mouth, you calm your racing nerves and steady your rapid heart - because, you wanted to this, too. You just had to learn to counter yourself against those pessimistic thoughts.

Looking back up at him, you smile warmly - it’s shaky and scared, but, it’s warm, nonetheless, something he picks up on. “You do not make me uncomfortable, Neteyam.”

A breathy, hesitant laugh escapes his lips, like he’d been scared of overwhelming you and somehow managing to push your further away than he ever wanted you to be. “Good, good.”

There’s more silence that surrounds you, except this time, neither one of you are feeling anything else other than one another. Your eyes pierce into each other’s, your intense gazes never straying away. You will yourself to hold this contact with him, wanting to feel even just a smidge of confidence when you admit your next words. “I would… like to try it, too.”

A small, shy smile accompanied your words, and when he saw that, along with his mind processing your wonderful words, the tension once residing in his taut shoulders dissipates, and a smile radiates upon his features, becoming wider and showing his fangs on display within his excitement. Just at the sight of his happiness from your words somehow quickens your heart from within its cage, continuing to wonder how someone as beautiful as Neteyam could hold such feelings towards you.

Almost like he knew where your mind was spiralling towards, he takes it away from you, licking his lips in concentration and taking a step that continues to scare him, despite knowing you were beginning to feel the same way. Wiping his hands together out of nerves, he brings one of them up towards you, palm facing up as he gestures for you to take it. “Would you like to dance?”

It’s only when he’s asked you that particular question that you realise the women’s singing have slowed down, a much softer, gentler tone emanating from their voices. You look in the near distance behind Neteyam, watching as couples dance sensually to the melodic sound with their partners, pressed up against one another as they show off their love to everyone else.

Neteyam notices your change in expression immediately, watching it fall as the prospect of dancing in front of others - to such an intimate-sounding song, too - has your nerves beginning to spike. Wanting to reassure you as quickly as possible, hating the sight of you so worried and distressed as it pierces his heart painfully, he moves himself directly into your line of sight again, not allowing you to look at the others anymore. Still, he hand continues to wait for you. “We don’t have to go over there,” he shook his head, wanting you to feel reassured by him alone, “we can dance here, or somewhere a little more private.”

With your heart evident in your gaze, watching him and only him, appreciation fills within your system to him. Since first meeting him, Neteyam has understood your boundaries on the same wave length as Tsireya always has, allowing you to put up walls and tending to your needs to willingly, so lovingly. This was all even before he slowly started to fall in love with you, and now that he had you, he was only going to be the perfect gentleman for you that he always has been.

A sheepish smile plasters upon your lips, and you nod up at him, your shaky hand taking his and holding on tightly, his life force aiding to calm you down. He turns his head to look at the clan, just checking up on something quickly, before gesturing the two of you in the opposite direction and leading you further into the trees.

It’s even more secluded now that you’re blanketed from the trees, darker and much more hidden away, but not an inkling of you feels scared that you’re here with only one other person, because it was Neteyam, and you know you never have to feel scared around him.

Your hand is still tight within his grasp, and you were close to letting go of him, expecting to start engaging in a dance you’re used to having watched growing up - one that was original to your clan, or maybe even his, one slightly less intimate and more fun - but, he doesn’t let you pull away. Instead, he keeps your hands clasped together, placing his other one gently against the back of your waist and slowly pulling you closer, repeatedly watching every expression you make to ensure that you’re always comfortable.

Now that he’s in position, he chuckles softly at the confusion warping your features. “This is how they dance on the star where my father is from,” he explains, watching as you slowly nod in understanding. Still, it doesn’t feel right to you, mainly because whilst Neteyam’s hands are where they should be, you still have one of your own hanging limply at your side, unsure what to do with it. Thankfully, upon noticing this, Neteyam unwraps his one from around your waist and guides yours up and around his shoulders, before returning once more to its place. “Is this okay?” he asks you softly. “Are you comfortable?

His questions that you can tell are truthful and sincere have the awkwardness you were previously feeling disappear, feeling as he gradually starts to sway the two of you side to side, the Metkayina music faintly beating in the background, quiet in an atmosphere such as this one. You find that you can no longer shy your gaze away from him. “Yes,” you reply, so soft and delicate that it has his heart fluttering, “this is perfect.”

Somehow, his smile grows wider at your words, elation coursing through your veins, feeling one of the happiest times he’s ever had the pleasure of being in. His feet continue to gentle guide the two of you in this sky-person dance, the warmth emanating from his presence alone slowly calming your once racing heart and allowing you to succumb to him entirely. Subconsciously, your head falls to lay against his chest, his rhythmic heartbeat echoing within your ears like a mantra, wishing it was all you could hear for the rest of your life.

As he lays his chin atop your head, pulling you in impossibly closer and thanking the Great Mother for allowing him to feel something so special - let alone, allowing him to take this in the palm of both his hands and call it his own now that he knew you felt for him the same - Neteyam thinks back on the moment he’d been told they were moving to a different clan for their safety, back to the moment he’d first arrived at such a startlingly different place. He remembers wishing he could go home, wanting to feel the presence of familiarity through his person again. But, he also remembers that his father had once told him that home isn’t always necessarily a place… it can be a person, too.

And, for the first time since arriving in your home, in Awa’atlu, wrapped up in your embrace, Neteyam found himself not missing the forest as much as he used to.

taglist ;

@monahiiii @bakugouswaif @teyamsatan @sulieykte @teyums @neteyamslovrr @tinkerbelle05 @netesanrr @lanasblood @camilo-uwu @queen190 @adrianarose7 @ttkttt @ayoungforeveruniverse-blog @lucialobelia @littlepisceanpixie @gyuventure @afro-hispwriter @thexplosivegirl @bellstwd @tahni-04 @eclipseatsea @6422btw @badbussylol @ellabellabus07

#𝐅𝐋𝐄𝐔𝐑𝐑’s work ── ✎#day and night series <3 #neteyam #neteyam sully #avatar #avatar 2 #neteyam fluff #neteyam smut #neteyam sully fluff #neteyam sully smut #neteyam x reader #neteyam sully x reader #neteyam x fem reader #neteyam x female reader #neteyam x pregnant reader #dad!neteyam #dad neteyam

300 notes · View notes

ac3may · 9 months

Text

“ the wag diaries ”

How You Met

~ Alessia Russo ~

~~~~~~~~~~

Alessia would never make any claim to know anything about ice hockey before she met you

but if interrogated she couldn't deny that Y/N L/N was a prominent face in her mind since she was a teen

most people had only recently began to recognise you with your increasing sponsorships

Alessia however had known of you from your college days

she had been dragged to a UNC friends hometown in Minnesota where she attended her first ever ice hockey game

it was an unfamiliar sport to the Brit, the violence definitely shocked her

she thought football was physical enough

number 23 immediately drew her attention though

the way she managed to dominate the rink while still gliding so gracefully was addicting

it wasn't until four years later when your face was plastered across all the sporting outlets that Alessia was reminded just how attractive she found the sport

or maybe it really was just you

the next time you crossed Alessia’s path you were a lot more physical, a lot more real, and a lot more directly in front of her

both being sponsored by Beats by Dre you had been invited to their rooftop event in LA, launching a new product

laying eyes on the blonde from across the dance floor you knew immediately you had to meet her

approaching her at the bar it was evident that she was shocked to see you

although that did nothing but spur your ego

the cocky glint appearing in your eye only attracted Alessia more

"hey, pretty lady. any chance I can interest you in drink? some company perhaps?”

"well I'm pretty sure it's an open bar, so drinks are free"

*eyes widen in rejection*

*she touches your arm*

she TOUCHES your arm!!

"but I could do with some company"

you then spend the following many drinks sat a little too close to be friendly

talking, giggling, and flirting around the fire pit

within an hour the pair of you had abandoned the groups you arrived with and tumbled into whoever's hotel room was closest

the following morning of room service in bed and further extra-circicular activities had Alessia thinking maybe something more would come

but after watching your broad shoulders walk away from her, freshly showered back buried in her duvet, there was no contact to follow

after several months of teasing from Ella about her new interest in hockey you appeared again

you had been visiting England to complete several press and media requirements, one of which being a photoshoot campaign with Beats

grumbling to your best friend and manager after a long train ride and cramped Uber to the studio in Manchester the last person you expected to be faced with was Alessia

not learning her lesson, again Alessia ended up in the same bed as you by the end of the night

as well as a supply closet, restaurant bathroom and hotel pool before that

this time though she was the one to walk away, and not without the promise of a regular arrangement

you were by no means in a relationship

but every time you were in the same country you sought each other out

neither of you had time for that anyway

a year later when Alessia joined her team in the Euros final you made the decision to fly out and surprise her in the stands

As soon as she made eye contact with you Alessia lost all interest in the impending afterparty

staying only as long as was polite before dragging you off to yet another hotel room

You were more than happy to accommodate her wishes though

the entire trip being made to celebrate her achievements in the first place

Alessia is demanding in physically wrapping your arms around her naked body when you try to stand and leave

on the high of the win she is extra confident

and the exhaustion catching up to her reigns her filterless

"why do you always leave me, am I just a warm body to you?"

*you gape, too stunned to speak*

*her pout is dramatically adorable*

"Alessia you are SO much more than a warm body to me! how could you even think that?!"

holding her tighter in your arms you listen as she explains her insecurity

all the while she played with your tangled fingers, resting on her stomach

hearing her out you admitted your intimidation of her being too good for you

the simple solution, that pleased both of you, came when she finally asked you to be her girlfriend

of course you agreed immediately

sealing it with a kiss

~~~~~~~~~~

Okay, question for anyone enjoying/invested in the wag diaries. Does anyone have suggestions for different nicknames we could maybe call the “characters”? I feel like mixing all the Y/N’s is already getting pretty confusing….

#ace writes stuff #wag diaries #alessia russo #alessia russo x reader #alessia russo blurb #arsenal women #lionesses #woso blurb #woso x reader

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azureseacloud · 7 months

Text

Hard Work

Ghost (band) one shot

Pairing: fem reader x ghouls

Warnings: swearing

Words: 1,999

Summary: Reader has been working all day. Ghouls return from practice and look after her, regardless of her resistance. Fluff with a dash of sexual tension because I can’t help myself :)

Hi again, thanks so much for your support on my other fic :))) You guys are awesome!!

I am open to requests for the ghouls so please feel free to drop a request :)

Working as a coordinator for the band was a huge job. It didn’t help that the ghouls always sought you out so they could bring you to their quarters for ‘mandatory’ ghoul piles or just for company. It was sweet, but by Satan they were an effective distraction from your work.

You had sat yourself down on the couch in the ghoul quarters, laptop sitting on your thighs as you reviewed the costings and set up for the next show that was in a weeks time.

None of the ghouls were present—busy with their commitments and band practice for the day—so you were using the time to get as much done as possible. It was easier to do the work in their quarters since you knew that they would go searching for you after and drag you back here anyway one way or another. Swiss had literally thrown you over his shoulder one time when you had protested to leaving your work space. Another time, when you had found a comfy hiding spot far away from where the ghouls wandered, Dewdrop had tracked you down by your scent and heartbeat.

You sighed, a slight headache beginning to make itself known. Checking the time, you’d been here for almost eight hours, and it was now afternoon. You’d made a lot of progress, which was great, but there was still a lot more to go.

You resettled yourself into a more comfortable position, shuffling around until your legs were no longer trapped under your body, wincing at the pins and needles that flickered as you moved. You began typing again, organising the itinerary for next years tours.

Something brushed against your neck lightly as you became aware of a presence behind you. Before you could look, two hands were splayed around your neck, applying a firm pressure but not impacting your ability to breathe. They pushed upward, tilting your head back.

“Fuck!” You gasped as you were met with a mask staring down at you. White horns poked through the forehead, an easy identifier for the ghoul that had a comfortable grip on your throat. Dewdrop.

“Oh, hi Dew.”

One of his fingers slowly caressed your neck as you fought to slow your heartbeat after the shock. His hands were warm, no doubt the perks of being a fire ghoul. You watched as he tilted his head in that infuriatingly attractive way.

“You look tired.”

You blinked up at the ghoul, realising your hands were still perched on the keyboard and not moving to at least try to defend yourself. You wondered if he noticed. What was it he had said?

“I’ve been working,” you replied evenly, after a moment of silence where you had to fight to gather your thoughts. His grip was distracting, in the way that sent your brain into overdrive. It was a struggle to maintain a normal tone—to hide what the ghoul was doing to you.

Dew moved closer, to the point where you could almost see the eyes behind his mask. Studying you. You tried your best to look alert and awake, knowing they would all swarm you the moment one of them figured out that you had forgone looking after yourself, choosing to instead work almost non-stop.

In a liquid movement he withdrew his hands, dragging them upwards along your neck as he straightened up. You almost sighed in disappointment at the loss of contact.

One major factor you had learned about ghouls is that they had no concept of personal space, nor any understanding of human ‘socially acceptable’ standards. They also shared more physical touch than humans usually did. It had been quite a lot to get used to when you first started working with them. But now you found yourself craving their casual touches and affection. Although you were still caught off guard with the more intimate touches they sometimes did. You knew they found your reactions entertaining, Dew and Swiss especially.

A set of footsteps echoed across the floor and you looked to see Swiss waltzing in, also still in his helmet and uniform. He looked over to you, then tilted his head up, most likely looking at Dew standing behind you still, his forearms now leaning against the back of the couch on either side of your head. His hands were brushing your shoulders in a tantalising way, and you were acutely aware of how close his chest was to your head.

Swiss looked back to you, and his mouth turned down in what you guessed was a frown.

“Have you been working all day?” The multi ghoul asked, leaning against the doorway. You clasped your hands to stop yourself from rubbing your eyes as another spike of pain shot through your head.

“No, of course not,” you lied. You knew the ghouls hated when you worked for too long—and you really wanted to finish this last part.

“When was the last time you had water?” Dew asked, still hovering above you. You rolled your eyes.

“I had water not that long ago.” You lied again, biting your lip. You hadn’t had any since breakfast—too engrossed in your work to have a break. That explained the headache.

“She’s dehydrated,” Rain spoke. Your eyes jumped to him, cursing internally that you had forgotten the water ghoul had gotten good at sensing how hydrated you were. He was heading to the adjoined kitchen at the far side of the room.

Swiss tsked and you shot him an answering glare. He grinned, pushing off the wall to join you on the couch.

“You can’t lie to us sweetheart.” Dew murmured in your ear, his breath ghosting the side of your face in a way that sent shivers down your body. His nails scraped lightly across your shoulders, and it was all you could do not to arch your back.

Too preoccupied with Dewdrop’s touch, you weren’t prepared for Swiss to snatch your wrists, yanking them away from your laptop.

“Hey!” You protested, trying to pull out of his grip. The multi ghoul only grinned, his hold on your wrists too strong for you to break out of.

“Rain,” Swiss called. The water ghoul hurried over, carrying a glass of water. You were still struggling against Swiss, trying to twist your way out of his grip. Dew grabbed your shoulders, pulling you back to the couch and pinning you there. Swiss barked out a laugh as you cursed at them.

“Can you get the laptop?” Swiss asked the water ghoul casually. Rain nodded, closing the device and moving it to the small table not far from the couch.

“Seriously guys? I just have to do a little more, then I’m done I promise.”

Swiss shook his head, releasing your hands while Rain offered you the glass of water. You rolled your eyes, accepting the glass reluctantly as Rain settled on the floor in front of you, murmuring a “thanks” to the calm ghoul. They were all watching—no doubt waiting to make sure you drank the water. Swiss moved one of his hands to your thigh, smirking as your eyes darted across to his.

“Is this an intervention?” You looked up as Phantom spoke, his voice holding a little bit of humour as he entered the room, crossing over to lean against the table. He looked at the laptop resting there—no doubt putting the pieces together.

“She’s been working all day,” Swiss explained. You took a sip of water, flipping off the ghoul beside you.

“She’s dehydrated,” Rain added.

“And she thought she could lie about it.” You hissed at Dewdrop’s words. Asshole. He gripped your shoulders tighter in response, his fingers pressing into your skin.

You busied yourself with drinking the water—it was the best distraction you had right now. Between Dewdrop’s hands on your shoulders and Swiss’ hand on your thigh, as well as everyone’s undivided attention, you could feel your cheeks beginning to heat up. You finished the glass, Rain reaching out to take it from you as he got up to take it to the kitchen. Phantom jabbed at his ribs on the way, the water ghoul skipping out of his reach.

“Good girl,” Dewdrop purred into your ear. You tensed, heat blooming across your skin. Your brain nearly short-circuited. He had to be doing this on purpose. There was no way he wasn’t—Dew wasn’t normally this flirtatious. The little gremlin.

Swiss snickered. “Someone’s flustered. Careful Dew, she might pass out if you keep going.”

Phantom chuckled at that. You scowled, crossing your arms.

“Okay, I drank some water, now let me keep working—“

You were cut off as Swiss stood up suddenly, grabbing your arms and pulling you from the couch. You squealed as he picked you up, one arm under your legs the other wrapped around your back. You threw your arms around his neck, gripping just under the helmet. He was grinning again.

“Swiss I swear to Satan if you don’t put me down-“

“You’ll what?” The multi ghoul taunted. He sat down on the soft rug in the centre of the room, rolling you onto your back and wrapping an arm around you to keep you there as he lay down beside you. You smacked his arm, knowing exactly what he was planning. You loved ghoul piles but you knew once everyone had joined you would not be able to get up until the morning.

You looked over as Dewdrop vaulted over the couch to join you, flicking off his helmet as he lay down on your other side. Dew slid one of his legs around yours, nuzzling into the side of your neck. The fire ghoul started purring loudly, draping an arm across your chest. His warmth was comforting.

“See? Just stay here with us. Take a break.” Swiss said, his breath tickling your ear. He’d also taken his helmet off, and he buried his face in the side of your neck like Dew. You sighed.

“No, I still have work to do!” Swiss snorted, still not letting you go. A wave of calm washed over you, sleepiness taking hold. Okay maybe you could finish the work tomorrow…

Your eyes snapped over to Phantom. “Phantom, you little bitch, I know what you’re doing.” You growled. The quintessence ghoul raised his hands in mock surrender, a wicked grin on his face.

Running out of options, you looked to Rain.

“Rain, can you please get them off me so I can finish my work?” The water ghoul sighed, making his way over. Instead of dragging the two off of you, he flopped down on top of you all, his head resting on your stomach.

How helpful.

You flipped off Phantom as he laughed. Not being able to help yourself, you lowered your hands into Rain’s hair. You slid your fingers through the smooth locks as the ghoul hummed contentedly.

Phantom curled up behind you, letting you rest your head on his chest. His own fingers worked through your hair, and you almost melted under his touch.

“What’s going on here?” Mountain crossed into the room with his hands on his hips, the ghoulettes behind him.

“Ghoul pile!!” Sunshine shrieked, launching herself over Swiss, who tried to bury his face deeper in your neck.

“A little help?” You asked, looking at the others hopefully. Swiss and Dew growled, both of their teeth lightly pinching your neck in response.

“I think that’s your answer.” Mountain shrugged, and you sighed in defeat. The huge ghoul settled down beside Dew, while the other ghoulettes curled around Sunshine and Swiss.

Dewdrop was purring again, his tongue licking the small bite on the side of your neck. You reached an arm around and scratched his head, his purring growing louder.

Okay, maybe you could let the rest of your work wait until tomorrow. For now, you relaxed in the comforting warmth and weight of the ghouls.

It didn’t take you long to fall asleep.

#ghost band #nameless ghouls x reader #nameless ghouls #swiss ghoul #dewdrop ghoul #oneshot #rain ghoul #phantom ghoul #ghoul pile #mountain ghoul #sunshine ghoulette

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sea-lanterns · 4 months

Note

Imagine being the super rich wife of Dragon!Mona

You're not rich because of her. No, she burns through all the mora people offer her so quickly on astrology stuff and the like, that she has not but a single coin left to make her hoard.

And then there's you, that pretty, rich, clever little princess Noble Lady who has so much mora, you could fill a swimming pool with it!

Maybe she initially sought you out for access to those finances lining the pockets of your dress (or whatever fancy article of clothing you'd like to imagine yourself wearing here). But then it develops into something a bit more serious as you get to know each other.

And so, you become something of a "sugar momma" to Dragon!Mona, providing Mona with coin as well as trying to teach her how to moderate her rabid spending (keyword: trying). And Mona provides her expertise in Astrology, perhaps acting as an advisor for your own ventures. She also provides her several lifetimes worth of knowledge of "getting you noisy in bed..." if you catch my drift 🤭

LMFAO THIS IS SO FUNNY—

Instead of Dragon! Mona spoiling you like all the other women in this au, it’s actually you who spoils her. It’s ironic because thinking about Dragon Mona, I can see her being able to read the stars and tell the future for the village. They ask her on all sorts of questions like “will this harvest be good this year?” Or “will my family be rich one day?” And in return, they give her so many gold coins and expensive trinkets, only for Mona to spend it all on astrology books and other useless things 😭

So that’s where you come in. After being “sacrificed” to Mona to become her bride, you see the pitiful state she is in and decide to help her out with your own costly riches. Mona’s domain is just an empty planetarium of sorts with just piles and piles of books and telescopes that literally provide NO PURPOSE because Mona is a FUCKING DRAGON WHO CAN ALREADY READ THE STARS—

…Anyways, Mona appreciates this little “sugar mommy” relationship you always provide for her, so in turn, she gives you protection, a safe place to sleep, and her expertise in sex due to being immortal for so many years. Though she can’t offer much, her company, love, and care for you is always a beautiful exchange for becoming her bride 💘

#🫧feeding the fishes #dragon au

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darklinaforever · 2 months

Text

Was Anthony in love with Siena, and she with him ? (Because I've seen a lot of people ask this question, the answer to which is quite obvious...)

No. He liked her / had some forms of feelings for her / cared about her, and was used to her, but was clearly not in love with her.

Especially since their relationship was above all something very, very carnal, and not really emotional, something essential when talking about being in love. Anthony never seemed to talk to her about his personal demons in relation to his life and his family either.

Even when he sought to assure Bénédict that Siena would be taken care of if he ever died during the duel against Simon, it was more a way of honoring his word to her than out of love ; Anthony rightly attaches great importance to these things as his honor and duties.

Siena was the one thing Anthony had for himself even outside of his family. It was therefore an obvious way of escaping one's responsibilities concerning them ; Hence why when Siena finally leaves him for good, Anthony is finally ready to take charge of his role as viscount by choosing a viscountess, as has been expected of him for a while now.

According to season 2, Anthony explains that he never wanted to succumb to the blind delight of being in love, and even needs this feeling explained / described to him (by Daphné, his own little sister) that he doesn't really understand. So it's obvious that Anthony never felt true romantic love before Kate came into his life.

Jonathan Bailey, the actor of Anthony, himself once explained (at least it seems to me) that his character, before meeting Kate, had always established relationships in which he was certain that he would never fall in love with the womans involved.

Kate is described in the show as a woman unlike any other Anthony has ever met, by the latter himself, as well as as Anthony's real true love by Violet, during a scene where Anthony truly cries for the first time since the death of his father, upon learning that Kate has finally woken up from her coma.

As for Sienna, she also cared for Anthony, liked him / had some form of feelings for him, and was used to him. Quite obvious since she cries during their final separation. But she clearly wasn't in love with him either.

For what ? Because she was looking for stability, a way to secure her future life through a relationship with a man who would take care of her / provide for her needs. This is what Anthony represented above all in his eyes.

It's also very revealing that when he announces that he has to stop dating them, the first thing Siena says is that he had promised to always watch over her. Love or simple affection is not a question here.

Especially since Siena seems after a while to end up wanting the company of a man who values / prioritizes her in a general way, in addition to financial security. Especially since a man who prioritizes Siena, technically offers the latter much more certainty / security of the financial situation, which she must obviously understand / know.

Things she wants / needs, and which Siena eventually realizes, Anthony could never fully give her ; because of all his repeated empty promises in season 1, to always prioritize his family, and not take responsibility for her, without forgetting the commitment problems that Anthony seemed to have on the relational level in general (and of which we spectators, will learn the depth and the reason in season 2, the latter having always avoided romantic feelings since the death of his father).

Hence these reasons, why Siena ended up changing men at the end of season 1, without telling Anthony (which is still quite vicious for me but he is not better with her anyway), with the aim of putting him against the wall and finally stop their relationship (which was already going straight to the wall) for good.

But essentially, while Anthony primarily used Siena to escape responsibility, Siena primarily used Anthony for financial stability. Despite the few feelings they had for each other, their relationship was mainly based on a transactional exchange.

Through their primarily sexual affair, Anthony could escape his responsibilities as viscount, and Siena could achieve financial stability. In short, a relationship of toxic dependence (destined to be ephemeral on Anthony's side) has established itself between the two characters. A relationship therefore doomed to failure, and where romance did not really have its place, despite an attachment having developed between them with the time.

The answer to the initial question is therefore ; No. Anthony and Siena were not in love with each other. They certainly liked each other, were used to each other and above all dependent on each other. But not in love.

Siena left Anthony to live a better life for herself, and thanks to that, Anthony was finally able to take responsibility for his marriage. Thanks to this he was able to meet Kate, the real true love of his life, in addition to being the first to really introduce him to Love.

I can't even understand how people could believe that Anthony and Siena were in love with each other. Kate is obviously the one and only from this point of view.

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midnightbears · 1 month

Text

✿ tell 'em how the crowds went wild! tell 'em how i hope they shine!

⎯ in which you look back on how grateful you are for the opportunity bestowed upon you. aka: you joined the opla's cast!

#STARRING. iñaki godoy, mackenyu, jacob romero, taz skylar, emily rudd ft. fem!reader [elle fanning 4 faceclaim but u can imagine y/n anyway u wish!].

#TAGS. sfw, kind of context, a bit of smau but its tiny. mentions of covid just in case it's triggering?

#NOTE. pardon my rusty writing but i really wanted to get this out!!! i added an oc from one piece for the sake of the story but she's barely mentioned so uuuh yuh! timeline may be wrong but i work with what i'm given please bear with me. let me know if you would like more fics of this y/n??? ALSO IGNORE THE WATERMARKS ON THE PHOTOS I NEEDED TO MAKE THEM NEATER

In the past, if someone were to come up to you and tell you that you’d be a part of the One Piece Live Action main cast in the future, you would’ve probably laughed in their faces despite your wishful thinking.

At that time, you were content with your work, doing short theatre plays with companies or gaining minor roles in musicals. Everything changed when you landed the role for the one-woman show Fleabag for a limited time on London’s West End after the leading actress underwent emergency surgery for an appendectomy. You only acted as the sex-obsessed mess of a woman for about three weeks, but it was enough time for people to notice you, to really see you.

You believed your career had reached its pinnacle when you were cast as Katherine Howard in Six: The Musical in London. Your name had become somehow well-known in the musical theatre world, and you had a small but dedicated fan base who liked uploading edits of you being a dork during the Megasix on YouTube and TikTok.

Months later, you were bound to play as Fantine for Les Miserables when COVID abruptly struck, and you were dismayed that your job was ripped from you so abruptly. Your best friend, the sweetest person on earth, insisted on you moving in with her in fear that you’d be evicted from your apartment.

Months passed, and you eventually found a small way to help your friend pay rent by offering singing and acting lessons online to musical-aspiring teenagers. Since you had gained many followers from your earlier work on social media, it didn’t surprise you when the classes became sold out.

Your friend also convinced you to create a YouTube channel for you to upload videos of yourself (sometimes joined by her) where you watched and commented shitty movies, followed DIY tutorials just for the fun of it, performed covers of your favorite songs, and just generally vlogged your life (along with reactions to Taylor Swift’s (From The Vault) songs).

At first, you thought it was pretty stupid, but you were delightfully proved wrong when your videos harbored over 200k-300k views on a bad day, so you found no reason to stop as COVID-19 continued, growing to gain a little over five hundred thousand followers. Your reactions were often used for TikTok audios or clips, so you found your popularity growing and evolving during that year.

You believed yourself to be a general, simple woman. People liked you because you were elegant and levelheaded, although you could sometimes be chaotic. You also had a subtle sense of humor that many found charming. But mostly, you grew a steady fan base because your videos and presence comforted countless young adults and teenagers.

You were an optimist and a reassuring one, so during the times when COVID was so prominent, people sought refuge from the monstrosities of the world in your videos, where you seemed to connect with them even though you were on the other side of the screen.

However, everything changed somewhere in 2020-2021. That evening, your best friend got home from work with excitement practically oozing out of her every pore. You and your best friend were avid anime watchers and manga readers, so you couldn’t help the face you made when she told you that One Piece was getting a live-action.

Although you were skeptical, your friend practically insisted you send an audition tape. You grimaced at that. It was well-known that live anime actions were almost always corny and cringeworthy compared to the original work, and people never liked them. You had learned that much from Death Note and a couple of others. However, your best friend convinced you with this argument:

“If it’s that bad, then at least you’ll gain more followers out of the memes that people will make, and if it’s good, you’ll still get famous anyway!”

Eventually, you sent a video of you performing one of the lengthy monologues from Fleabag to your agency and simply hoped for the best. Your friend was practically rooting for you to get the role of Anastasia, one of the first integrants of the Straw Hat crew, joining before Sanji and after Usopp. You adored her as she greatly reminded you of your late mother, although you would be happy with any role.

Somewhere in November 2021, you remember a lot of screaming and crying. When you try to look back on it, all you remember is the happiness you felt when you received confirmation of the role of Anastasia. You were practically over the moon, and you and your friend celebrated inside your small apartment. You were entirely alone, just two drunk girls dancing and cheering, until one of the neighbors knocked on the ceiling with a broom.

liked by inakigo, emilyrudd and 574,949 others

yourusername actually lost for words and filled to the brim with gratitude...... i cannot express how excited i am to play my girl anastasia and bring her to life. from the bottom of my heart, thank you to everyone who has supported me. your faith in me means everything. congrats to iñaki, emily, jacob, mackenyu and taz, thank you to onepiecenetflix, thank you to my best friend for convincing me to audition for the role, and thank you, oda sensei, for putting anastasia's heart in my hands. love u all <3

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November 10, 2021

y/nsfanclub.02, AAAAAAAA SO EXCITED FOR THIS I ACTUALLY CANT BELIEVE IT

⤷ starl6ighwnb, LIKE FR IM GNAWING AT THE BARS OF MY ENCLOSURE THIS IS INSANE

user8392y3r927y, HELLO YOUR GRACE ANASTASIA

inakigo, Congrats!!!!!!!!

taz_skylar, 🔥🔥🔥

The One Piece fan base dearly loved the character of Anastasia, a well-mannered, bubbly, upbeat, fashion-loving duchess who always spoke in a Transatlantic accent but also had a quick wit and a bit of a sweet tooth. Anastasia’s dream was to become the most dangerous pirate to ever grace the seas and prove everyone who doubted her wrong.

Of course, with a big character came a big responsibility.

Sometimes, insecurity nearly got the better of you. You had to fill huge shoes, and there were many people to convince and impress. However, your love for this project was bigger than the gnawing uncertainty on the back of your neck, so you continued strongly until the end of Season One, finding comfort in your cast mates and the countless people who counted on you and, most importantly, believed in you.

Oda handpicked you, and that argument alone was enough to shoot any insecurities away.

Well, needless to say, people loved you!

Critics acclaimed your portrayal of the character, as well as the commendable chemistry you shared with the rest of the cast. The fans found it incredibly funny that your character was the complete opposite of how you actually acted in real life, and you often found yourself blissfully immersed in the fan base's love and praise.

Your channel and social media suddenly grew tenfold. Although you had stopped uploading videos every week due to the recording of season one, your followers were more than happy to wait for your return, and as one would expect, they were thrilled to have you back once you did upload a vlog explaining everything.

Over the course of the six months, you had been recording from time to time for a YouTube video in the set. Previously, you had asked the producers for permission to record some behind-the-scenes for your channel and your usual interactions with the rest of the cast with your personal Sony camera, as you felt it would be a nice way to bring the fans and the cast closer.

The producers gave the okay on the condition that you would wait until the first season aired on Netflix. You happily agreed and carefully began recording some scenes of your dressers and hairdressers as they prepared you, a few shots of your instructor showing you how you were supposed to use the guns that Anastasia employed... simple things.

Back in the day, you were still getting acquainted with the other cast members, and you didn't want to seem rude by forcibly making them appear on your videos, so you waited for a few weeks until you could properly call yourself companions. Then, you invited them to appear in the videos.

Iñaki, Taz, and Jacob liked to take advantage of the little free time they had between scenes they didn't appear in to innocently steal your camera and use it to their heart's content. One day, you got home only to find the memory card was completely full. It was an extensive video of them walking around the set, with Taz recording while Kiki and Jacob pointed out random stuff to the people who lived inside your camera, as Jacob liked to call them.

Mackenyu, being more reserved and introverted, mostly liked to act as a cameraman for you as you showed the props you used and other things, often making comments or turning the camera around whenever you referred to something.

Meanwhile, Emily had a natural knack for being in front of the camera. Whenever you asked her to join in, she effortlessly slipped into the co-host role, bantering with you and adding her own insights into the behind-the-scenes world of the show.

With the first season out of the way, you took the time to carefully pick what videos you wanted to use in the final tape, and it took you a little over a month and a half to properly edit it and turn it into a wonderful thirty-minute-long behind-the-scenes. You even sent it to the producers and your co-stars in case there was a scene they wanted deleted. Fortunately, they all gave you the okay.

You teased the video a bit on your Instagram before uploading it a few days later, and the support it received was out of this world. It gained over two million views and hundreds of thousands of likes.

You were kind of expecting this. While some BTS had already been uploaded on YouTube, yours was different because you were showing it from your perspective. The fans loved every second of it, and even started asking for a second or third part. You even saw new videos on YouTube of recompilations from your video with the titles being silly things like The One Piece Cast Being Chaotic for Seven Minutes.

At that moment, your life felt so full. You were getting contacted by industries who wanted you to appear on their videos and their stages, thousands of fans who loved you, and a feeling so peculiar that this would be eternal.

liked by taz_skylar, morganlogoff and 1,523,199 others

yourusername missing my wig and my gang hours ☹️

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November 10, 2023

morganlogoff, love love love you💗💗💗

curlikaqy, NO ONE KNOWS I'M YOUR BIGGEST FAN

emilyrudd, GIRL I WANT TO SEE YOU COME BACK TO AMERICA

bookofjacob, missing your camera hours💔

#one piece #one piece live action #one piece la #opla #one piece x reader #one piece x you #one piece live action x reader #one piece live action x you #iñaki godoy #emily rudd #jacob romero gibson #jacob romero #taz skylar #mackenyu #one piece x y/n #opla x reader #opla x you #midnightbears

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therhythmafterthesummer · 1 year

Text

The Love I Always Dreamt Of (M) ~Changbin

Pairing: Werewolf!Changbin x Werewolf!F.Reader Themes: Fantasy/Supernatural AU | Smut | Fluff | Established Relationship Word Count: ~5k | AO3 Synopsis: As you and Changbin got to fulfil one of your shared fantasies, he couldn’t help but be reminded that you were the one and only wolf for him. [This story is an instalment of my WereRoomies series. although you probably don’t need to read the previous Changbin instalments to understand and enjoy this, i highly recommend you to~]. Warnings: this is all so soft and maybe a bit corny, all things considered · they’re in love, your honour · graphic depictions of intercourse (smut warnings under the cut).

Author’s Note: the title of this one was inspired by a song called Cuando Llegue tu Amor from an Argentine series i used to watch. it makes me feel butterflies in my belly to this day… anyway, this one was long overdue in my opinion. i was DYING to write Changbin and his girl like this, and i’m happy i finally got to do it. this might not be everyone’s cup of tea, but i hope some of you get to enjoy it regardless !

Due to all the abovementioned warnings, this story is intended for an adult audience only. Minors please do not interact.

Changbin’s WereRoomies Instalments: Finding Comfort in Autumn · Heat · The Love I Always Dreamt Of.

Smut Warnings: oral [F.Rec]/facesitting · pegging · marking · themes of breeding · praising.

Disclaimer: the story represented in this work does not represent Stray Kids in any way; anything described in this story and all actions performed by the characters are purely fictional, this was created just for good fun.

It wasn’t common for Changbin to be home earlier than you. He often had to stay back at work to finish whichever bullshit task his boss assigned him that day, while you, with your privileged IT coordinator role, got to come home on time. Today, though, his boss had finally let him get those hours the company owed him, and he was able to clock out early in the afternoon.

You’d sent Changbin a text a couple of hours ago when your shift had ended, telling him you were going to meet up with Chris’ girlfriend at the shopping centre, and that it’d take you a bit to come home. This, admittedly, made him pout like a sad puppy. He finally was home at a normal time, but what was the point if he couldn’t spend some time with his dearest omega?

Regardless, he figured you more than deserved to go out with a friend to unwind, so he simply sent you a ‘have fun pup! bring some of those cookies i like💕’ back, and decided to watch some movie on TV that could distract him enough.

A couple of hours after you both texted, Changbin heard the rumble of his phone on the coffee table, so he reached for it, and he immediately smiled as he saw it was you who was calling.

“Hi, pup”, Changbin took the remote and lowered the TV’s volume so he could hear you properly.

“Hi, Binnie”, you sounded incredibly happy, Changbin could practically hear the smile on your face, and in turn, it made him smile. “How’re you doing?”

“I’m bored”, he admitted. “I’m all lonely and sad because my mate hasn’t come home yet”, Changbin brought a hand to the junction of his neck and shoulder, mindlessly tracing the raised skin your mating bite had left behind.

Somehow, it was both incredibly crazy and totally normal that he had mated. Crazy because he, an alpha, had been the one marked, that he’d been marked by you, an omega. But it was also normal because it had been you who’d done it.

Never in his life had Changbin felt this much like himself, knowing that he’d get to spend the rest of his life with you, the omega that used to drive him crazy, the omega that ran away from her former pack and sought comfort in him, the omega that had inadvertently shown him that his needs and his feelings were normal, was enough for him to feel nothing but excitement and love.

Nothing had been traditional in your relationship, but that was fine. More than fine. It was amazing.

“Aww, don’t be like that. I’m coming home soon”, you chuckled. “Which is why I’m calling you. I got a surprise for you”.

“A surprise?” Had he been in his wolf form, Changbin was sure his ears would’ve perked up and his tail would’ve started to wag as soon as he heard that.

“Mm. A surprise. But…you’d need to prep yourself, baby”.

“Oh?” Goosebumps rose on his arms when he caught on your tone. Whenever you asked him to prep before you came home, he just knew you’d be in some type of mood. A very horny mood that surely meant you were just going to rock his world. “Go on, I’m listening…”

“Nuh-uh, I’m not giving you any spoilers. Just need you to clean yourself up and be ready when I get home”.

“Just clean up?” A little smirk made its way onto Changbin’s lips. “Know that I asked that while I wiggled my eyebrows”.

He heard you chuckle on the other side of the line, and honestly, he probably shouldn’t have felt as giddy as he did, but he was giddy, and curious as to what you had in store for him. “You can stretch yourself a bit, too, if you want. I’m not sure if my dearest alpha is patient enough to wait for me to get home”.

Changbin shot up from the sofa, immediately making his way to the bathroom. “Your dearest alpha is practically in the shower already”.

“Mmm…Love when you follow instructions this well, Binnie. You should do the same at work”.

Changbin groaned at that, just as he reached the bathroom and started to tug his shorts down. “Don’t talk about work now! you’ll bring my boner down”.

You laughed, offering a ‘Fine, fine…Anyway, I’ll be there in less than an hour, baby. See you then. Hm?’

He honestly couldn’t have felt any more excited.

As soon as you walked through the door, Changbin was on you.

Your shopping bags ungraciously dropped to the floor, and a surprised yelp left your lips when Changbin kissed you.

With a tight grip on your thighs, he lifted you up to press you against the back of your front door just as your legs wrapped around his waist and your fingers buried in his hair. The taste of you on his tongue was exactly what Changbin had been needing all day, and the harder he got, the more impatient he was getting.

“Welcome home, puppy…” He mumbled against the skin of your neck once he detached his mouth from yours to focus on your throat instead.

“T–Thank you, Binnie, baby…” Gripping the hair on the back of his head, you pulled him away from your neck, and he couldn’t contain the satisfied hum that resonated from deep within him with the motion. “I see you missed me”.

“‘Course I did”, Changbin chuckled, just as he gently placed you on your feet. “Especially after you teased me this much. I’m so hard, baby, look”.

Taking a hold of your hand, Changbin brought it to his crotch, and his hips bucked once you tightened your grip around him. You bit your lip, focusing your eyes on where your hand was pressed against him. The smell of your arousal had his senses on overdrive, your ginger and nutmeg scent filled every single crevice of his brain, and he was more than ready for whatever this surprise of yours was.

You pressed a brief kiss on his lips, and squeezed him one more time before you finally let go, making him pout. “I need to shower and get changed, baby. Wait for me on the sofa, yeah? I’ll be here in no time”.

Changbin sneaked his hands to your bum, holding you tightly while he kissed you again. After a few moments, he finally pulled back, landing a smack on your bottom before he let you go altogether. “Alright, puppy. I’ll be waiting for you right here. Don’t keep me waiting”.

After one final kiss to his cheek, you gathered your shopping bags, stuffed your hand on one of them and took out the box of cookies he’d asked for, handing it to him before you made your way down the hall, towards the bedroom.

So Changbin did just as you asked him. Placing the box of cookies on the coffee table, he sat on that sofa, with his legs spread open, his cock already throbbing in his shorts. Sporadically, he’d stroke himself over the fabric to get some relief. There was no room for him to go soft when your scent plagued his mind, when it wrapped around every single one of his senses, and when he had his ass stuffed with the biggest plug he had.

Fifteen minutes had passed and Changbin was honestly getting impatient, not to say needy. He was genuinely considering going into the bathroom and railing you right there, but his desire to do just what you’d asked him to do was stronger than his own physical needs, so he decided against it.

When you finally appeared in the living room, Changbin was glad he hadn’t moved a single centimetre out of place.

“Wow…Look at you…”

“You like it?”

He honestly wasn’t sure where to look. This was, quite possibly, the prettiest lingerie set you’d gotten so far. Black lace, a sheer bra that showed your stiffening nipples so perfectly…It was so simple, yet it hugged your figure so well, Changbin started to feel his mouth water and his cock twitch in his shorts.

“I love it, puppy… Fuck, wanna eat you up…” His eyes raked your figure, taking in every curve, every dip, taking in his perfect little omega, his mate just for him…

“This isn’t the surprise, though”, that was when Changbin noticed you had one of your arms behind your back, and his mind started to race.

He chuckled, shaking his head from side to side, incredulous. “Fuck me…If this isn’t the surprise then what are you scheming, baby?”

You gave him one more smile, a borderline devilish smile that had the hair at his nape standing on end. Before he could question any further, you finally moved your hand from behind your back, showing him the item you’d been hiding. His jaw dropped. Out of all the things you could’ve pulled out, that wasn’t what he was expecting, but he wasn’t going to complain, not when the twitch of his cock was enough to know how delighted the sight of that item had made him.

“I haven’t been able to stop thinking about this since our conversation last week…So I finally went ahead and got it”.

A strap.

A fucking strap.

You went ahead and got a strap-on.

“Holy shit…” Changbin’s eyes changed focus from your face, to the item in your hands, back and forth a few times, and the erection in his shorts was suddenly utterly unbearable. “So you’re gonna fuck me, fuck me, huh?”

You licked your lips, dangling the strap in your hands. “If you’re up and ready for it”.

“Fuck…” Before he could even think about it, Changbin was already on you, kissing you like he’d die if he didn’t. And, in a way, it kind of felt like that’d be the case.

Once he scooped you in his arms, he made his way to your shared bedroom, almost blindly since he wouldn’t detach his mouth from yours for a second. He barely even registered anything around him that wasn’t you and your scent and the strap that draped over his back once you rested your arms on his shoulders, he honestly didn’t want to register anything else, either.

Last week, after one particularly satisfying session of you stimulating him with one of his plugs, Changbin couldn’t help but drop the question ‘what if you…you know, fucked me? Like…you know?’ He’d been super awkward about it, unable to voice his thoughts clearly, but you understood him anyway, and your eyes practically lit up with excitement.

‘Oh, Binnie, seriously? We have to prepare…Oh God, we have to do research!’ Ever the perfectionist, of course you wanted to research anything you possibly could on the topic, just like you’d done when you started talking about playing with his ass earlier on.

Changbin genuinely didn’t think it’d happen this soon, but he wasn’t going to complain. He was, unashamedly, ready for you to fuck him in the ass.

Being properly fucked in the ass was one of those things he’d always think about before he started his relationship with you…One of those things he often found himself fantasising with, or watching a video of, when he was having some alone time, right until he blew his load. But, before, guilt would always come once the post-nut clarity hit him. After all, for an alpha to want to be fucked in the ass was surely a disgrace, something that went against his nature, or so he’d been taught to think.

Thankfully for him, he’d left all those prejudices in the past. Getting close to you had shown him that these things he craved for weren’t something to be ashamed of, that he was as much of an alpha werewolf as anyone else even if he took anything up the ass. If anything, he just felt like a fool for denying himself of this for so long.

As soon as Changbin made it to the bedroom, he placed you on your feet, and you immediately pushed him to the bed.

It all became a blur once his instincts started to take a hold of his mind. In a second he was naked, laying on his back, and pushing your underwear to the side as you sat on his face.

Your grip on his hair was tight while you ground yourself on his tongue, and, honestly, if it were up to him, he’d be more than happy to stay right here for the rest of his life, with his mouth between your legs, with his tongue licking your folds and drinking you up.

Changbin really wasn’t sure who was being louder, you, or him. Your legs trembled next to his head, the headboard creaked a bit under your strong grip, and he caught himself thrusting up into nothing several times throughout the entire thing.

Even if there was that strap waiting for you both, Changbin wasn’t in any particular hurry for it, determined to have you come undone under his tongue, determined to have your lust-filled scent engulf him whole.

“Oh, fuck–” Your hips stilled, your hold on his hair and the headboard got impossibly tight, Changbin couldn’t breathe, and he honestly didn’t want to breathe, not when you sounded so sweet when you were coming right on his tongue. He could’ve suffocated right there for all he cared as long as he got to hear those delicious sounds coming out of your mouth.

“Shit, sorry, baby…” You mumbled, chuckling a bit while you shuffled further down his body to settle yourself right on top of his length so you could lean in and kiss him.

Changbin just hummed, holding your waist, relishing your warmth against his painfully hard length as you pressed kisses on his lips, relishing the soft caresses of your fingers on his hair.

“Puppy?” Changbin mumbled after a while, when your body fully relaxed on top of his.

“Hm?” You nuzzled his neck, softly licking the mating bite on his skin, making him shiver.

“…Fuck me”

Pulling yourself away from his neck, you just smiled at him. With a brief peck on Changbin’s lips you finally left the bed altogether to gather a couple of towels from the freshly washed laundry in the closet. As soon as they were all neatly placed on the bed, Changbin sat on top of them, waiting for you to come close again.

“Would you like to help me with this?” You asked, kneeling in front of him with the strap in your hands, to which he simply nodded, biting his bottom lip to contain the smile that was spreading on his face.

It was honestly way more intimate than he could’ve ever imagined. Sure, he was horny and hard and leaking, but as he helped you fasten the strap securely around your hips, kissing and licking and nibbling any area of exposed skin his lips would land on, Changbin just couldn’t help but feel immensely close to you–both physically and emotionally. Which was something that wasn’t new, he often felt this way, but it was kind of amusing how he also did in a situation like this.

“Fuck, you really do look so hot, pup. You always do, but, damn…”

Changbin wasn’t sure if it was the combination of your lingerie and the strap, or if it was just how unashamedly in love he was, but you did look extra beautiful, and if there was one thing he was ready for tonight was for his gorgeous mate to fuck him stupid.

You took his hand, and grabbed the tube of lube with your free one. “C’mon, baby. Lube me up. Hm?”

As soon as he opened his hand, you uncapped the tube and squeezed some of the sticky substance on it. With a hefty amount of lubricant now on his palm, you guided his hand to the toy between your legs, and immediately he wrapped his fingers around it and started to spread the lube on it.

“How’s it feel, Binnie? Is the size okay? Think you’re ready for it?” Your voice was so incredibly gentle, and the way your hips bucked to meet the movement of his hand was honestly making him dizzy.

God, was he ready for it…

“Fuck, yeah…”

“Good”, a smirk made its way onto your lips, and he was almost vibrating with excitement already just by that look in your eyes. “Now, hands and knees, my dearest alpha”.

He couldn’t help the scoff that came out of his mouth, but he still complied with your request after placing a brief peck on your lips.

He wiped his hand on one of the towels below him, and did as asked. As soon as he was settled, he felt your lips on one of his buttcheeks, kissing and sucking on his skin right as you pulled the plug out, making him sigh, feeling content under your tender touch.

“Oh, shit, pup…” When you pushed two fingers inside, Changbin all but melted. Coupled with your lips sucking love bites all over his lower back, he could feel his cock leak fluids onto the towels below him and his heart swell in his chest.

You worked him up for a while, carefully stretching him open, whispering sweet nothings against his skin, and he could honestly barely think straight at this point.

“You ready, Binnie? Feeling okay?” You emphasised your words with a nudge to his prostate, making him swear under his breath.

“Yes! Yes, fuck…”

You pulled your fingers out of his ass and landed a playful smack on one of his buttcheeks, chuckling a soft ‘so eager, baby…’

Changbin felt a fat dollop of lube drip on his ass, and he shivered in anticipation. As soon as you started to tease his hole with the tip of your toy, he was sure he was going to combust.

“If you wanna stop at any point or if it hurts let me know, okay? I really don’t wanna hurt you, baby”, Changbin just nodded in response, just to let you know he understood what you were saying.

“Oh, fuck…” The moan that came out of his mouth as soon as you pushed into him was almost foreign to his own ears. The size was close to what he figured an average human cock would be like, but he still felt just so full.

Yet, not full enough…

You were taking so long…too long. He wanted you as deep as you could go, so, spurred on by the hazy, needy state of his mind, he just pushed his hips back until you were flush to him.

He vaguely registered his name coming out of your mouth, with a hint of disapproval in your tone, but he honestly couldn’t hear it properly over the sound of his own groan of relief once he was stuffed to the brim. “Fuck…Fuck, fuck, puppy, that’s so good…”

“Baby, careful…” You dragged your fingertips from his mating mark, all the way down his spine, making him shiver. “Arch your back a bit for me, hm?”

So he shifted the weight of his upper body onto his elbows and arched his lower back, somehow feeling you even deeper like this.

“Shit…I’m drooling”, Changbin chuckled, wiping the corner of his mouth with the back of his hand.

“Does it feel good, Bin?” You leaned into him and started pressing kisses on his back, just as you held tightly onto his hips. “Feels good to have your omega mount you?”

Fuck, essentially, you were mounting him, and that realisation had a bead of pre-cum falling from his tip and onto the bed. “So good, pup… God, please, move”.

The moment you started a rhythm, Changbin’s mind disconnected completely. All he could register were the sounds of your skin hitting his, the delicious stretch of your fake cock going in and out of his hole, and the feel of your hands pulling his hips back to meet every thrust.

One particularly precise thrust brushed his prostate, and stars started to cloud his vision. It didn’t help that you were running your mouth as well, a lot, getting him incredibly worked up.

“Look at you, Bin, you’re so fucking pretty, and handsome, and gorgeous, you know?” Each statement was emphasised by a sharp thrust, and all Changbin could do was grip the bed sheets tighter and push his hips back to meet your movements.

The moment you leaned into him and your tongue found his mating mark, he started to tremble. The area was already sensitive on its own, but with the addition of your cock stretching him open time and time again the sensation increased tenfold.

“Bin, baby…Wanna try it on your back?”

Changbin nodded, and the whine that came out of his mouth when you pulled out was almost pathetic to his ears.

Immediately, he flipped on his back, and he pulled you down for a kiss the second you were nestled between his legs. It was sloppy and uncoordinated, but he didn’t care. He needed to kiss you, he needed to feel you close against his body or he was certain he’d die.

“Love you…” Changbin mumbled against your mouth, and he placed another kiss on your lips to make his point.

“Love you, too, my alpha, my Changbin”, you mumbled back, and he felt goosebumps rise on his flesh at your words.

When you pulled away from his tight hug, you added some extra lube to your toy and his ass for good measure.

“Shit, this is gonna be a bit difficult…We need some elevation”, you looked around the bed, until you spotted something over Changbin's head. “Baby, can you pass me that pillow?”

He blindly reached for the pillow in question, and as soon as you had it in your hands you instructed him to lift his hips so you could fold it and place it under him to add some height.

“That looks much better…”

When you pushed yourself into him again, Changbin felt his eyes roll to the back of his head, and he reached for your thighs, squeezing them tightly in a poor attempt to keep himself grounded. “Shit…”

Throwing one of his legs over your shoulder, a hand on his hip and the other pressing on his abdomen, you started to move, a bit faster than before, coaxing the most blissed-out sounds to come out of his mouth.

“Fucking hell, Changbin, you sound so hot right now…you look so fucking good taking my cock, baby”, Changbin whined at your words, he whined, tightening his hold on your thighs as he felt heat rush to his head.

“Maybe I should get one of those werewolf cocks, the ones with the knots…”

God, you were seriously going to kill him. Changbin felt his thighs tremble, and more pre-cum leaked from his cock, forming a puddle on his abdomen, right below where you were pressing your hand. If only you moved it a bit further down…

“Would you like that, baby? For me to stuff my knot deep inside your tight hole?”

You were trying to kill him. He was sure. The thought of you stuffing him full of your knot, of breeding him, was something he never expected to arouse him this much. Changbin knew it was physiologically impossible, but logic wasn’t exactly driving his consciousness right now. Was he even conscious at this point? He wasn’t sure. The only things on his mind were you, and your scent, and your cock up his ass.

“Y–Yes, fuck…Would love your knot, baby, so much”.

The moment you took his cock in your hand and started pumping him, he knew he was done for. “Fuck, puppy, love, you’re gonna make me come”.

“Want you to come, baby. C’mon, Changbin, give it to me”, you leaned into him, catching his mouth in a sloppy kiss right as your grip tightened, and his whines started to become more and more desperate the longer you worked his cock, the longer you fucked his ass.

“Binnie…” You snapped your hips harder, heat pooled in the pit of his stomach, his lower abdomen tensed further and further, he was so close…So close he almost missed your sudden request. “Mark me, love…”

“Oh, pup, fuck…fuck, fuck, fuck…” Before he knew it, his canines had enlarged and he was sinking his teeth on the junction of your shoulder and neck, just as blind-hot pleasure started to course through his body, just as a seemingly endless amount of cum started to spurt from his cock.

He vaguely registered the broken moans coming out of his mouth, muffled by your flesh trapped between his teeth, just like he vaguely registered his own name coming out as a breathless moan out of your own mouth. Changbin wasn’t sure if it was the ‘being fucked in the ass’ part of the experience or the ‘marking my omega and the love of my life’ one, but, as he came down from his high, it all felt as if he was having an out of body experience.

When he finally let go of your flesh, he licked the bite to soothe your skin before he kissed the area, holding you close with a hand on the small of your back, mindlessly mumbling, ‘mine, mine, mine…’

“Yours, Bin, baby…” You whispered, a bit breathless, just before you claimed his mouth in a deep, sensual kiss.

Once you finally pulled out, his head fell back against the mattress. Changbin was panting, eyes squeezed shut while he tried to regain some composure, and there was an obnoxious ringing in his ears. He heard some shuffling, and before he could even register it, you were straddling his waist, pressing your core against his abdomen, surely getting it drenched in his cum.

“How’re you feeling, baby?” You leaned in, propping yourself on your elbows and pressing a quick kiss on his lips.

“That was insane, pup”, Changbin held your bum, squishing the plump flesh as he pressed kisses on your cheeks. “Can’t believe you asked me to mark you with your fake cock up my ass”.

You laughed at that, burying your face in the crook of his neck while he held you close. “It felt so good, though…Like electricity flowing through my body. Was that how you felt when I did it?”

Changbin just hummed in confirmation, leaving one of his hands on your buttcheek while the other dragged up your spine to finally settle on the mark he’d left on your skin, tracing it with his fingertips.

You both laid there for a while, until his cum was almost disgustingly dry. ‘It’s not disgusting, what are you talking about, Bin?’ You chuckled all the way to the bathroom, where you spent a good while cleaning each other up.

Changbin truly felt like he was floating on a cloud, not only due to the physical satisfaction you’d brought him, but also his instinctual one. He was genuinely more than happy to only be marked by you, but marking you, although it wasn’t something he felt like he needed to do, certainly was something the instincts of his inner wolf appreciated.

Now more than ever, he was sure that you were his, he was yours, and your bond was something he was determined to protect.

“You think we should hide all this in the closet?” You asked once you were all cleaned up and back in the bedroom, placing all the now also clean plugs, toys, and the strap in the box you usually kept in the open compartment of your bedside table.

“Why? No one comes in here”, Changbin chuckled from where he was laying on the bed.

“Jeongin does, though. He thinks he’s slick, but I know he likes to snoop around”, you opened the closet door and crouched on the floor to move things around and find a place for what you liked to call your ‘playbox’. “Why do we have so much shit stacked here?”

That was exactly the moment Changbin remembered why there was so much stuff stacked in the closet, and he shot up from the bed as fast as he could at the realisation. “Wait, pup, don’t move anything!”

It was too late, though. By the time he was standing next to you, you had already found what Changbin had so carefully hidden at the very bottom of the closet.

Your brows furrowed while you held the black, velvet box in your hand.

“Who’s snooping around now?” Changbin just sighed, crossing his arms and leaning on the closet’s door, offering you a smirk. “Go on, might as well open it since you found it already”.

You gasped as soon as you opened the ring box, and Changbin would lie if the sound didn’t satisfy him. Catching you off guard was one of his favourite pastimes at this point.

“Changbin!”

“I know we’re mated, but I figured, you know, we could get married like humans, too”, it certainly wasn’t the most romantic proposal, not when he was butt-naked, leaning against the closet, while you were crouching on the floor trying to hide your box of sex toys, but you had already found the damned thing so might as well say it now.

“Oh, Binnie”, in an instant, you were shooting up from the floor and wrapping your arms around his neck to pull him into a tight hug, all while you giggled and smothered his face in kisses, making him giggle in return.

“I had it all planned out, pup!” Changbin sighed dramatically, hugging your waist to keep you flush to his body. “Was gonna take you to a picnic by the river, light up candles, get down on one knee and everything!”

“Seriously?” You chuckled, and Changbin just offered an overly exasperated ‘Dead serious!’, but the splitting smile on his face was clearly enough for you to know he wasn’t really upset. “Not only did I get to fuck you dumb, but I also got marked by my alpha, and I got engaged to you? It’s like Christmas tonight”.

Changbin just laughed, finally pulling himself away from your embrace and taking the ring box from your hand. “You’re not engaged yet, though”.

A pout made its way to your lips, and Changbin quickly kissed it away before he took the ring out of the box and held your left hand in his. “Would you marry me, puppy?”

“Yes”, you replied simply, with a bright smile on your lips.

Changbin slid the ring on your finger and pulled you in for a kiss, hugging you close. “Love you, pup. My perfect omega”.

You giggled, hugging him tighter. “Love you, too, Bin. My dearest alpha”.

Every day, Changbin couldn’t help but feel incredibly lucky that you had returned to his life. Even if the circumstances in which you did weren’t the most pleasant ones for either of you, he was grateful that he managed to find that other wolf out there for him, that other wolf that accepted him just as he was, that other wolf he was capable of loving with all his heart. He was grateful that he found you.

For years, he thought he’d have to hide and repress himself until the day he died, but now, the prospect of a forever of freedom, a forever of your company, was something that he’d cherish close to his heart.

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General Masterlist Changbin’s WereRoomies Instalments: Finding Comfort in Autumn · Heat · The Love I Always Dreamt Of.

#stray kids supernatural au #stray kids fantasy au #stray kids werewolf au #changbin fluff #changbin smut #stray kids fluff #stray kids smut #stray kids fanfiction #changbin fanfiction #changbin fic #changbin x reader #skz fanfic #skz fanfiction #stray kids fanfic #werewolf changbin #✨🌙✏

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ukulelevillainwrites · 9 months

Text

who follows the rules anyway?

Part 1 / Part 2 / Part 3 / Part 4 / Part 5 / Part 6 / Part 7 / Part 8 / Part 9

complete

pairing : anthony lockwood x she/her reader

summary : y/n gets fired from Fittes and seeks refuge with George, only to find out he works with the worst guy she's ever met

word count : 3.5k

notes : this is my first fanfic ever, the set up is a little slow but bear with me, the series will be a compilation of all my favorite tropes and in general everything i love to read in l&c fanfics, it's heavily inspired by everything i've read so far so thanks to all the amazing writers out there <3, a lot more happens in the second part that i will upload right next to this one

She wasn’t entirely surprised when she heard that George Karim had gotten fired from Fittes. He did a great job on the few occasions she got to work with him, but he always seemed to take his research too far. She remembered warning him several times.

“Supervisors aren’t as open-minded as I am, you’re gonna get in trouble if you keep bringing up your theories about the Problem to every person you interact with!”

“But don’t you find it weird how research has come so far and yet the Problem keeps growing? The official story tells us that an unidentified event caused it but what if it’s still going on? Wouldn’t you want to know what that was so we could finally put an end to this?”

When he put it that way, y/n couldn’t help but agree with him.

“Sure, I guess but it doesn’t justify going up to the fourth floor when it’s clearly closed to agents still in training!”

“Keep your head in the sand if you want but I’ll get to the bottom of this, I know I’m getting closer already.” George said with a proud smile on his face.

She’d laughed. He was stubborn but she found it endearing.

He had bragged about his latest discoveries after a case the both of them had been working on. It wasn’t the first time. They got along well and took the habit of grabbing an early morning snack on their way back from work. He would mostly tell her about his most recent theory, either about the Problem or his latest obsession, which could take a few hours. But y/n didn’t mind, she thought he was good company and it helped her relax after a case. Though aside from those few moments they didn’t spend that much time together. Especially since y/n became part of Quill Kipps’ crew.

A month ago, she had gotten the good news coming back to work after a weekend visiting her parents in her hometown south of London. She was ecstatic, her roommate El too. Especially El actually. Because they had such a huge crush on him. y/n didn’t quite understand it, but she did admire his career. He had a remarkable reputation among other Fittes agents and being part of his team would certainly boost her career as well. She had her heart set on moving up to management and someday become a prominent figure of the Fittes organization. But to reach this goal she’d need to be as remarkable as Kipps, better even. She wanted him to notice her, to see how great her Touch was but most importantly how organized and responsible she could be under pressure. She needed him to think she could be a great leader and sought his attention on every occasion. Because of that she and George drifted apart, going from work friends to acquaintances that simply exchanged passing hellos at the archives or the Fittes headquarters. Before she even thought of reaching out to him, he was gone.

“Did you hear?” El had asked her as she walked into their shared room.

“Heard what?”

“That annoying guy finally got fired!”

“What George? He wasn’t annoying he was sweet!”

“You have weird tastes in friends.”

“Yes, I do.” She told them with a wink.

“But do you know what happened? Most supervisors were pissed and wanted to involve the cops!”

“What? Why?”

“Because he tried to break into an office! They caught him trying to pick the lock! How crazy is that?” El seemed to relish the drama of the situation as their face lit up with a smile that seemed inappropriate under the circumstances.

“That is crazy but as much as I love to gossip, I really need to get some sleep.”

y/n got ready for bed and set her alarm for the following day. She had to do some research at the archives with her teammate. They would join Kipps later at the client’s house. It shouldn’t be too difficult since it seemed to be a Type One but she really needed to impress him. She had to be the perfect agent: quick, focused and perfectly prepared. Even though she was always very professional she still needed some rest.

y/n was a heavy sleeper and had very vivid dreams. Ever since she was a child, she had some of her nights disturbed by complex dreams that felt so real she would wake up exhausted the next morning as if she hadn’t slept at all. It hadn’t happened in quite some time, but that night y/n wouldn’t get much rest. She found herself in the middle of the woods, barefoot, standing in a clearing. The ground was covered with an emerald green moss that felt soft beneath her feet. She looked around but couldn’t see much beside the shadows of the surrounding trees. A thick fog made it hard to see where she was. Disoriented and lost, she started walking towards the nearest tree but, a few steps in, her right foot sank in ice cold water. She realized she was in the middle of a pond, stuck and unable to reach the shore. A frog jumped into the water behind her and made her turn around. A girl was standing in front of her. Her auburn hair was slightly curled, and her bangs delicately framed her brown eyes. She was slightly smaller than she was, about the same age, her face showed no emotion at all.

“Find me.” She said in a neutral tone.

y/n furrowed her brow, not understanding what she meant. As she opened her mouth to ask her to explain the girl repeated

“Find me.”

Without moving she somehow floated above the pond and retreated into the woods. She mouthed the same words one last time before the fog engulfed her. y/n woke up with a jolt, disoriented and terribly thirsty. What was that about? she thought. She didn’t have time to ponder since she hadn’t heard her alarm and was already late to meet up with her colleague.

“I’m so sorry I’m late Bobby I hope I didn’t make you wait for too long…”

“It’s fine but hurry up. Kipps insisted on gathering as much information as possible.”

“Really? But everything indicates a Type One right?”

“The problem isn’t with the dead but with the living. Didn’t you pay attention to who our client is?”

“Mrs Overton? What about her?” Bobby had an exasperated look on his face and sighed heavily. So much for being the perfect agent today.

“Her husband owns Overton Watches and basically runs a luxury empire and she is on the board of the Sunrise Corporation. She and her husband are close friends with Penelope Fittes and we cannot screw up this case otherwise our team will probably end up at the bottom of her list next time she needs trustworthy agents.”

Oh, I’m not rested enough to deal with that.

“Okay then, let’s get to work.”

They spent the whole day at the agency’s archives. The Fittes database did help a lot to find more information about the Overtons’ house but overall, it was a pretty boring case. The house was old, dated back the 1800s, it belonged to Mrs Overton’s ancestors, one of them died because, well, they had to at some point, and felt like coming back. This great grandmother didn’t live any kind of extraordinary life and decided to haunt the place in the same unremarkable way. Y/n had trouble staying focused. The case was not fascinating, far from it. Her mind drifted and came back to her dream. In hindsight it wasn’t that disturbing. It was just her brain making stuff up. But she couldn’t shake the feeling she had felt when the girl had spoken to her. There was something magnetic about her voice and it had an intensity that didn’t match the lack of expression on her face. It bothered her. Why couldn’t she stop seeing her face?

Bobby got up to put back some newspapers and the sudden movement next to her brought her back to reality. Right, the Overton case. Everything indicated a Lurker, so y/n wasn’t too worried about tonight. She could still make up for today’s start. Plus, her talent would probably be the most useful. This unseemly case might serve her after all.

As she walked back to their table after putting a book back on its shelf, she accidently bumped into someone.

“Oh I’m so sorry!”

“It’s okay don’t worry.”

“George? Hi! What are you doing here?”

“I came by to pick up the rest of my stuff…”

“Oh right… I’m so sorry about all this.”

“Don’t be I kinda deserved it anyway. Though I still think I was right.”

“About what?”

“Mrs. Dufour stealing sources. It’s pretty obvious she can’t afford to live the way she does on a supervisor’s salary, and she always looks like she’s plotting something. She reminds me of relic men. I never liked her.”

“Well to be fair you don’t like a lot of people… it looks like I missed your last hyperfixation… but it seems like a stretch and accusing her of something like that… Was it really worth getting into that much trouble?”

“I’m not chipper about it, but I’ll be fine. I already found something else, a friend I can still work with, maybe you know him. We live in-”

But y/n wasn’t listening. Bobby was calling her, telling her that they had to get moving to get to their client’s house before sundown.

“I really have to go George I’m sorry. But I’ll miss our walks filled with your crazy theories.” She said with a smile.

“If you want to come by for tea, we’d be happy to have you. 35 Portland Row, don’t forget!”

“Sure, I won’t! Good luck!”

“Thanks, you too.”

She hurried to catch up with her colleague. She really was going to miss him even though they weren’t that close she had grown used to seeing him around. But she couldn’t believe his theory about Mrs. Dufour. It sounded like he wanted to see evil everywhere and was looking for something to distract himself with. A made-up scenario that justified why he disliked her at the same time. Nothing more.

----

“Good evening, Madam, we are a leading team from Fittes. We were assigned to make your house safe again by Miss Fittes herself.”

Kipps always had a very humble way of introducing them to their clients. As proud as y/n was of being on his team, she didn’t feel entirely at ease with his elevated figures of speech.

“Yes, I was expecting you. Penelope told me she put one of her best teams on my case. I was very flattered.”

“Well, we do not want to appear overly confident, but we will be most efficient to take care of your problem. May we come in?” she asked.

“Of course, please. I suppose your supervisor will be here too?”

“Yes, Mrs. Dufour will be here shortly.” Kipps answered.

y/n abruptly turned around to look at him.

“Mrs. Dufour? What happened to Mr. Fowler?”

“He got called by DEPRAC to deal with some details on the last case we did. You know, the one where it only took you two minutes to find the source after Bobby and I spent a half hour looking for it. It was really impressive I was glad you were here.” He told her with a wink.

She felt herself blush. She wasn’t used to being praised and certainly not by a prominent agent like Quill Kipps, even after a month of working together she still felt flustered. Maybe that last case made up for the horrible impression she gave him on her first week. And she was going to keep proving him how great she was.

The praise was so unexpected it made her forget who their supervisor was for a moment. What were the odds that on the same day George told her about his suspicions she had to work with this potential traitor? She could not let George’s wild theories cloud her judgement. She was here to do a job, a relatively easy one given their research, and she was going to make a wonderful impression on both Kipps and this high-profile client. She took the lead and went inside.

As they stepped into the house, they were greeted by a white marble entrance furnished with glass cases displaying various clocks and watches, certainly a history of the famous Overton watches and mechanisms. The sun was already setting, it hit a crystal chandelier which reflected golden light over the walls. The pieces shone behind their glass. Their client guided them through the hall into the kitchen were teacups and biscuits had been served. Mrs. Overton took a seat and the three agents followed. She seemed at ease with the situation even though the young adults she had in front of her were here to rid her of a ghost. She sat at the head of the table, perfectly in control as if this meeting was a business reunion like any other. She was in her late fifties; her hair was silver and styled in an elaborate hairstyle. She looked both serious and relaxed at the same time. She was aware of the risks but wasn’t worried about the situation, like she had total faith in the team in front of her.

“While we wait for Mrs. Dufour maybe you could tell us more about what has been troubling you?” asked Kipps.

“I believe the haunting began about three weeks ago. My husband started feeling uneasy when he got home, and I felt the same fear shortly after. We never saw or heard anything we just feel watched.”

“I’m sorry to hear that Madam.” y/n tried to comfort her.

“The research we did on your house indicates that it’s been built in the 1800’s and never left your family is that correct?” Bobby interrupted.

“Yes, I inherited it about 2 years ago, but we only moved in this year.”

“We believe the haunting might be caused by one of your ancestors, a certain Emily Abbott, could you tell us anything about her?”

“I’m afraid I’ve never heard of her before…”

“So, you wouldn’t have any idea what her source might be?”

“You might have a late night ahead of you. When we moved in, we kept most of the furniture that were already in the house. For all I know any of these pieces could be the source.”

That wasn’t good news. Hopefully with her Touch y/n could save them some time. They could start at the bottom of the house and work their way up, going from room to room as she touches different objects hoping for some result. As she organized the night in her head the front door opened.

Mrs. Dufour immediately filled the room with her presence. Mostly because she spoke at length and didn’t let the team finish asking their questions. She thanked Mrs. Overton for waiting for her, ushered her out of the house and gave them her directions for the night. Not even Kipps could object. She wanted him to stay nearby while Bobby and y/n were to explore the house to see if they could pick up anything. She felt for Kipps, this seemed like a monumental waste of time for him. But they couldn’t do much about it, agents were supposed to follow their supervisor’s instructions, they were in charge after all.

They searched the house until midnight, making rounds, going up and down the floors, looking for potential sources or trying to pick up any kind of psychical activity but came back downstairs empty handed. How was she supposed to impress anyone with a case like this? y/n and Bobby went back to the kitchen to report the lack of activity to Mrs. Dufour.

“We’ve searched the entire house three times but unfortunately none of the objects we picked up gave any sign of psychical activity, the visitor hasn’t shown up yet and Mrs. Overton couldn’t give us more information. I’m not really sure what more we could do for now.” Bobby looked defeated. Or bored. Probably the latter, it was an exceptionally boring case. y/n was growing tired at the lack of action. It made her mad that someone could hire one of the best teams in London to take care of such a benign problem just because they had money and connections while hundreds of homes were threatened by harmful Type Twos and couldn’t do anything about it.

“Do I really have to tell you two how to do your jobs? Keep looking and take this seriously. I hope you realize who our client is, I can’t allow any mistake tonight.” Her authoritarian tone made y/n see why George disliked her. Clearly, they must have gotten into a few arguments on several occasions. But she couldn’t understand what would make him think that she could steal sources. She seemed to take her job very seriously. Sure, she was a pain but that didn’t mean she was a criminal.

“I’ve got something here! Bobby, y/n join me in the hall.” Kipps called.

They drew their rapiers and walked slowly into the hall. Kipps was looking at a corner where shadow had gathered. There was a faint, almost indistinguishable human shape lurking there. But it didn’t move, and it didn’t seem to want anything more than just stand there.

“I’m going to keep an eye on it while you two look for the source.” Kipps told them without averting his eyes from the dark figure.

“But what more can we do we looked everywhere already.” Bobby said with a sigh.

“Well,” Kipps turned to her. “y/n, got any ideas?”

She didn’t answer. She hadn’t heard them as she was lost in thought. Mrs. Overton hadn’t mentioned anything about the display cases here. But she should have. There were marks on the walls behind them, and again on the marble floor. It was a clear sign that bigger and heavier furniture had been removed to make room for new ones. That change alone could have triggered the ghost. And since they were behind glass, they hadn’t tested any of the objects on display. Though they were all Overton Watches so, clearly, they didn’t have anything to do with Mrs. Overton’s ancestors. Another dead end. She lingered in front of the central display, slowly losing hope. If such a ridiculously small case was too much for her, what was she even doing here? Sure, the two guys accompanying her weren’t inspired either, but she was disappointed in herself. She had dealt with dangerous situations without flinching, but a Lurker case was getting the best of her. That was embarrassing. She rested her hands on the case and looked down at the watches. There were four watches spread across a silk white sheet surrounding a bigger, more ancient clock. They didn’t seem that impressive. Why were people making such a big deal out of them? The clock on the other hand was more ornate and had required skilled craftmanship. The mechanism was apparent and intricate. It was still working which was most impressive. A golden crown rested delicately upon a mother-of-pearl dial, the needles moving steadily around. Right beneath the number 6 was engraved something almost unreadable. She squinted to see better. The initials EA were written in golden letters.

“I’ve found it! The source! It’s this clock right here!”

“Nice work y/n. Keep an eye on the ghost I’ll take care of the source.”

They switched position and she kept her eyes on the shadow as Kipps tried to get the clock out of the display.

“I can’t get to it, it’s locked. I’m gonna have to break the glass.”

“No! Don’t do that Mrs. Overton would be livid. Bobby go get Mrs. Dufour and Kipps don’t touch anything please.” She said with her back to them, her eyes still staring at the corner.

“Did you find the source? What is it?” Mrs. Dufour asked, suddenly in a hurry.

“We have reasons to believe this clock is the object causing Mrs. Overton trouble.”

“That’s really nice work Mr. Kipps congratulations.”

“I much appreciate your praise, but it has to go to y/n. She found the source. As we don’t have a key, I offered to break the glass, but y/n thinks it would upset our client.”

“Well thank you Miss y/n for using some common sense. We cannot break anything in this house.”

“We could drape a silver net over the case and come back in the morning to pick up the source.” She offered.

“I think it would be best. Thank you again for your prompt judgement here.”

“It was my pleasure.” She blushed. It was nice to have her efforts acknowledged, no matter how small. This supervisor might have been a stickler, but she recognized good work, it was enough to satisfy her. This case turned out pretty well after all.

#lockwood and co fic #lockwood and co #anthony lockwood x reader #anthony lockwood x y/n #lockwood x reader #lockwood x y/n #x reader #lockwood and co imagine #who follows the rules

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