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uglyducklingofthe2000s · 3 months

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With Those Eyes - Lewis Hamilton (F1 Grid)

Summary: Y/n is a young and new presenter for the Sky Sports shows, pairing up with the co-existing hosts. But what people really seem to notice is the drivers praise of her. One in particular seems to admire her the most, and he gets jealous when he others do too.

For context this is going to be based in starting in Baku 2023. Genius!reader and age gap (BIG age gap, reader is in their early 20s bc...that's like the only age I write)

Side pairing: Reader x hook-up!Lando, Reader x F1 grid

Never written for Lewis. Might never again. Who knows.

Truth be told most of the drivers liked y/n because she had proven that she has the technical and engineering knowledge, actually understanding more than most of the drivers.

"Hey, there she is. Are you snooping?" Lewis laughs when he spots her walking through the pit lane, specifically past the Merc garage.

Y/n laughs running towards the word champion and is caught in a hug. They've all learnt to handle her very physical affection which usually includes running and hugging them at any given moment but especially when she initially sees them.

She's young, her personality can only possibly be described as a ball of sunshine with a brain that even Adrian Newey has said that while she's not quite to his level but she certainly understands more than her had expected before speaking to her.

"I just want to see what you're hiding here." Y/n jokes then tilting her head and grinning as she links her hands behind her back and leans past the threshold. "How is it feeling?"

Lewis sighs knowing that y/n is referring back to Australia where his team wasn't there for him at the podium.

"They gave their reasons." Lewis shrugs earning a small nod from her but the sympathy is in her eyes.

"Y/n! What are you doing with the old man on the grid?" Lando exclaims appearing from his grid walk which earns a grin.

"Are you jealous?" Y/n smiles as the younger driver moves closer to her. "You're older than me anyway."

"By a week." Lando grumbles while she rolls her eyes. "Are you coming to join me tonight?"

Lewis slightly awkwardly clears his throat, almost feeling like he's here when he shouldn't be. There's an unspoken knowledge that as two young single people, y/n and Lando have slept together.

"Um...I'll text you and let you know." Y/n shrugs earning a nod.

There really is no feelings involved for them, there's a friendship bandits obvious they get along just as well as y/n gets along with everyone in the paddock. The only difference is that unlike many of the drivers, Lando is single and therefore pursues her based on sexual attraction.

"Ok, I'll see you later." Lando nods with a grin leaning in and giving her a one-armed hug and kiss on the cheek as she returns the favour.

Y/n shakes her head as he turns to leave before looking back at Lewis.

"I'm keeping you from getting on with things. Sorry. It was good catching up, hopefully I'll talk to you a bit later. We're in the same hotel so I'm sure I'll see you at some point." Y/n smiles moving to hug him again, him feeling almost more special that he gets a proper hug which she seems to use to squeeze him tightly. "Don't let anything knock your confidence ok? Just remember who you are."

She rubs him back for a moment before moving back as he watches her with those chocolate button brown eyes.

Next time Lewis sees y/n, he feels his blood suddenly run a scorching temperature. Y/n is standing in a dress that with one stray breeze, could easily leave nothing to the imagination.

But she's barefoot with Carlos, Charles, Pierre and Onoro seeming to aid her in walking through the hotel lobby, it's almost as if she has body guards. She's actually walking with a limp with Carlos and Onoro holding her arm around their shoulders as Carlos holds her waist to support her weight.

"I swear, I'm never forgiving you for this, Carlos." Y/n states, sounding like she's joking a little as she shakes her head but as she does she spots Lewis. "Lewis, can you please tell all these lot that pushing someone with half the muscle mass near concrete stairs is a bad idea?"

"Are you ok?" Lewis asks moving closer to her.

He'd actually just got back from dinner and been distracted by something on his phone when he saw them come in.

"I think I just twisted it, it doesn't look too bruised or anything." Y/n sighs then shivering a little. "Alright, you guys got me inside. I can take it from here."

"You're on my floor, I'll get you the rest of the way." Lewis states since he's not lying, he's on the same floor as her.

"Are you sure?" Carlos asks looking ready to hand her over. "Are you ok with that, y/n?"

"Yeah, I'm good." Y/n laughs as Lewis moves over taking her weight in place of Carlos. "Not too heavy, am I?"

Lewis has to scoff at that as even a suggestion as part of a joke.

The others clear off giving their goodbyes and heading to their own room.

"Are you sure you're ok?" Lewis questions making her nod before they begin moving. "Where were you guys at?"

"Oh over at the Hilton on Lando's request." Y/n sighs shaking her head. "What had you loitering in here?"

"I just got back from dinner." Lewis smiles as they get to the lift and she sighs leaning into him a little more as they stand still. "So how did you get pushed down some stairs?"

"We were just walking out the hotel and Carlos started laughing about something Charles said, just completely sent me flying down them when he pushed me. It wasn't on purpose." Y/n sighs shaking her head with a smile. "I'll get some ice and ice it before tomorrow."

Lewis gets her to her room and helps her to her bed, moving to get some ice from the ice machine on their floor before he moves back and she smiles seeing him put it in a napkin.

"Thank you." Y/n smiles but there's a grimace on her face that she can't hide. Teeth gritted as she looks at her own ankle.

"You're ok." Lewis assures her soothing her when he notices tears at the edge of her eyes. "It's not nice seeing you with tears in your eyes."

"Sorry." Y/n laughs lightly then sniffling.

"No, don't apologise. It just means I'm not leaving till I know you're all ok." Lewis chuckles patting her lap lightly.

"Well I think a lot of people would call me stupid to turn down The Lewis Hamilton's company."

"I think everyone would agree you are anything but stupid."

Y/n gets a little flustered at his words and feeling his gaze so directly on her. Her own gaze looking down before she shifts her ankle.

Lewis really did stay too late, in fact he stayed till y/n had drifted asleep. He made sure to not leave the ice on and put some blankets over her.

The next day he saw her in the paddock, walking around with Lando looking like she's in a serious conversation with him. Lando's gaze flicks to Lewis in a moment of noticing the older man has stopped and is watching them. Lando then leans in and whispers something into her ear which makes her shake her head before they give each other a hug and begin to walk laughing together.

Whatever the fuck that was, Lewis didn't like it.

Especially since Lando noticed Lewis but y/n very obviously didn't.

She's apparently very busy today as every time he catches a glimpse at her, she's doing media or she's with some other driver.

It turns out she's in the media pen though, so she is there to ask him how things felt.

He hardly pays attention to her questions, his eyes so focused on her that she stutters through a couple words. Before he finally leaves and she puffs out a breath as Charles moves over smirking a little since he saw the mess that she became.

"Do you need a moment?" He questions making her deadpan a look at him.

Y/n eventually finishes up the post-race interviews and sighs moving around the paddock. She's been dodging Lewis, because there was something that really clicked in her brain last night and it was the realisation she has a crush on a man who is completely beyond her reach.

The best way to handle this, is to avoid him till those feelings fizzle away.

Of course the world wants to work against her in allowing her to do that. Because getting back to the hotel she goes out for ice since while she can walk on her ankle completely fine, she also is feeling the ache and pain of having been stood on a twisted ankle all day.

But as if the universe is working against her. She manages to lock herself out of her room while getting more ice.

"No. Ah, no." Y/n groans pushing at the door as if it will magically unlock it.

"I am always finding you in distress somehow." Lewis comments suddenly making her turn to look at him. "Are you ok?"

"Oh yeah, just...dandy." Y/n nods with a stressed smile. "I'm locked out my room."

"Come in my room, I owe you to balance out last night."

"I'm a sleep risk. And since there's no getting into my room, you can't kick me out." Y/n jokes knowing she could easily go downstairs and get the key to her room. "I think I'd be stupid to deny myself your company though."

Lewis smiles at that before moving to his door and opening it while she picks up her ice and moves into his room. She knows it's playing a dangerous game.

"Let me help." Lewis practically instructs making her hand the ice to his held out hands.

And almost identical to yesterday she finds herself on a bed with ice on her ankle that certainly looks fairly swollen. Only this time it's Lewis' bed and all she can smell is him.

Damn he smells good.

No surprise.

"Have you been avoiding me today?" Lewis asks suddenly making her nose scrunch in a twitch of being called out in such a forward manner.

"I...I just think...well...I was quite busy today, they had me on a lot of media jobs." Y/n states since that's not really a lie. But it's a coverup of the truth too. "Your room is so much nicer than mine. Who dick do I have to suck to get the presidential treatment?"

Badly timed jokes around the one man she may be more than happy to get on her knees for.

"Sorry. That was completely inappropriate." Y/n frowns grimacing at her own words finally looking up to meet Lewis' gaze which is painted with amusement.

"You're not a hard person to read, y/n." Lewis sighs while moving the ice on her ankle to a different position. "I'd rather you just be honest."

Courage doesn't always need a build up, but sometimes it comes in an explosive pop of presenting itself.

"Y/n?"

The next moment seems to time jump, her body has shift up onto her knees knocking the ice on the floor as she slides onto his lap and presses her lips to his own.

They're soft and he tastes like Monster.

Being in Miami, there's a lot of talk about how everyone will perform. What to expect from each team with the track resurfaced.

Wednesday morning, Lewis makes sure that y/n has the presidential treatment to start the day.

"I've been thinking." Lewis states as he rolls off of y/n and she turns her head looking at him looking like she might actually be ready to go back to sleep making him laugh a little since she looks quite dazed. "Are you still with me?"

"Yeah-yep. I'm listening." Y/n nods with a smile. "Though I doubt you sharing thoughts is wise."

"I don't really want to walk into the paddock hiding this."

"That's...controversial of you. I never took you for a drama feeder." Y/n hums then rolling closer to him onto her front. "You realise how many years there are between us? And both of us are going to be harshly judged. Not just the media or...fans...the other drivers, the teams...they could have something to say."

"Let them say it." Lewis shrugs earning a small smile before she shifts up kissing him. "See? Now why would I ever want to hide being able to do that from people?"

"Alright, lover. Let's go, I need to shower and so do you."

From the moment they spot y/n in Lewis' car getting into the paddock, eyes are on them walking into the stadium turned paddock and Lewis is pretty proud to somewhat tease them. Not holding her hand or doing anything more than talk to her as they walk.

"You could look a little less like you're loving this." Y/n sighs shaking her head while Lewis shrugs as they get to the Mercedes unit. "I have to go do my job, and you have things you need to do. So I will no doubt see you later."

"Yeah?" Lewis hums pulling her closer gently by the material of her dress, knowing that people are watching. "I'll probably come find you before you want to see me."

"Probably." Y/n smiles before he slowly closes the space and finally kisses her. Sealing the public confirmation with no apology. There's even a couple audible gasps of people around them. "Ok, now you're just showing off."

"Do you expect any less?" Lewis smirks as she moves back, but finds his hands keeping her from moving too far back. "Don't let anyone get in your head."

Lewis doesn't actually believe any bad words would be said to y/n, if there was he'd say some words to whoever had opened their mouth.

"I won't." Y/n smiles quickly stealing another kiss before she withdraws back from him. "Bye."

It doesn't take much time for the word to spread and both parties find themselves quizzed by a lot of people. Public, media and drivers.

"I knew it. I knew it! You lied." Lando accuses with laughter while pointing an accusing finger at y/n as Oscar walks along side him. "I can't be mad, I think there's a million girls in the world who would do the same thing."

"Glad you're not mad. I've had all sorts of reactions."

"Did it happen in Baku?"

"Yes. Nosy." Y/n laughs then yawning a little. "Look, I've got some stuff to do for Sky. I'll see you later though."

"Are you doing interviews this weekend?"

"I think for qualifying, yeah. I'll check and get back to you."

"See you then." Lando nods as y/n hugs him then hugging Oscar despite him not having spoken.

"Bye guys. Good talk, Oscar."

Oscar laughs patting her back before he takes off with his teammate, them having their own stuff to do for the day.

Things kind of go on as usual for the rest of Wednesday, Thursday and Friday.

"Where's y/n?" Lewis asks as he exits from FP3.

"I'm right here." Y/n states appearing almost out of thin air. "Guess who isn't doing anything for broadcast tomorrow. So will get to watch the race without focusing on anything else."

"So you'll be in the Mercedes garage?"

"If I'm invited." Y/n grins walking backwards in front of the older man while he holds her hand incase needing to guide her a little.

"You don't even need to ask." Lewis scoffs playfully as they look at her for a moment.

"I feel like I do." Y/n smiles with a small shrug. "But I'll remember that for next time."

"Consider it an open invitation."

"Noted." Y/n nods then stopping and perfectly allowing Lewis the smoothest move to kiss her, picking her up a little from the ground as he does.

"Has anyone said anything?" Lewis asks as he breaks the kiss and looks at her making her hesitate. "Who?"

"Some fans shouted stuff. It's fine, I told you it would happen. I can handle it and Jenson shouted a few possibly less than complimentary things back anyway."

"I'm sure Sky appreciate that." Lewis laughs while she smiles lightly. "Are you ok?"

"I'm great. They're just annoyed none of them are dating you while I am."

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eydi-andrius · 10 months

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Cruel Existence (Gojo Satoru x Reader)

summary: Gojo broke up with you a week ago. Trying to forget him, you invited your friends to a night out. It was fun while it lasted, until you realized that you never went home to your own place. In fact, you were sleeping soundly on his bed.

cw/tw: angst, hurt, pain, mentions of break up, regret, mentions of drinking until one passes out (please don't do this), trespassing

a/n: this was fun to write. I hope you like it. Again, as much as I appreciate likes, comments and reblogs motivates me better. Thank you!

🐈

It is wild how the stranger you once met becomes the most important person in your life.

Then for one day, life decided to make that person a stranger again.

Some may argue that no, they're not strangers anymore.

However if you think about it, a person who isn't in your life is nothing but a mere stranger.

His memories may be there, and it must have been your greatest treasure. Yet, it doesn't erase the fact that it wasn't them anymore.

Each day, the knife twists deeper, sharper and deadlier the more you think about the what ifs and the whatnots.

It's like a deadly poison slivering inside your vein. Memories turn lethal and invasive. You begged for them to just stop and let you breathe.

You prayed every night for it to be over. As you close your eyes, you wish that the morning will make you feel renewed and the person you once were.

How cruel life can be when all you wanted was to be loved.

Gojo had found you first. Maybe that explains a lot why he ended it in the first place.

"Look at this girl. She called us to drink her sorrows away but she was just holding her beer and staring from afar." Iori called you out. Then, rolled her eyes in annoyance. You gave her a chuckle and muttered an apology.

If she did not call your name, you will probably think about what you did wrong and why he ended your relationship that way. He looks tired, fed up when you ask why. He wasn't the same Satoru to whom you knew. It was true that he could be cold-hearted at times but he never acted that way towards you.

That should have been a red flag but that action had made a swarm of butterflies in your stomach. You almost thought you were special.

You bit your lips as you felt another tear wanting to come out and spill your pain in front of your friends again. Shaking your head and blinking your eyes, you tried your best to stop it.

You called and invited them to forget him. It has been a week. It shouldn't bother you as much anymore. He probably had been enjoying his single life. The pain of being pursued and being rejected after achieving your goal was something you had been trying your best not to overthink about. It might be true, but it wasn't healthy to soak through the scenarios and what ifs you knew nothing about.

It will just kill you inside and there will be no reprieve for it.

Attention and awareness finally came back to what you were doing, and so you looked around. The bar was loud. Blinking lights and the alcohol were giving everyone a false sense of confidence as they danced and socialized on the crowded dance floor. Everyone looked like they were having fun. Now, you kinda felt bad that your friends were just sitting inside the private booth with you. Especially, when all of these independent ladies had been through a tough week doing their work. You felt bad wasting their time to watch you mopping and crying over a man they already told you to be wary about.

"I know what you were thinking. And no, I'd rather sit here and join you into drinking your heart out than be with those strangers. Drink up!" Mei mei raised her eyebrows and tapped your pint. She's always so impressive at reading people. Sometimes you wonder if you had said your thoughts aloud with how accurate her words were, at times.

Heart filled with warmth, with how loving your friends were, you stood up and hugged them all. Shoko who remained quiet and sitted patted your back in reassurance after returning your big hug.

It was probably harder for her to hear what happened. She was close to Gojo. You just hoped she wouldn't be planning his murder though. She may be quiet but when angry, she can be more intense than these two.

Anyway, enough thinking about your ex-boyfriend now! These hot ladies gave you their precious free time so might as well use it wisely and to full extent.

You basically had dragged the three in the middle of the dance floor and showed them your moves, which was nonexistent, so you earned a mocking and hysterical laughter from them. Yet, it did not take long for them to follow suit and even challenge you to a dance battle.

The night was filled with laughter, and for once, during that grueling week, you forgot why you were crying and had to lie about your puffy eyes.

🐈

The pain in your head was intolerable. You had been awake for quite some time now but you cannot even lift your eyelids on how painful it was. You groaned. You moaned. You breathed in and out to make it better but the beating of the unbearable pain seems to get worse.

Well, it was true what they said, it had been fun while it lasted.

Last night was a blast. No one can stop the four of you as you claimed the stage and did your greatest night out. You felt the rush of freedom and so you did not stop taking shots after shots. The consequences were pushed back in the deepest part of your brain. And for once, you let your wild side out in public.

You were probably so wasted but at least managed to get home safe. The proof was the soft mattress of your bed. Your fresh sheet enveloping your exhausted body to a warm embrace while the air conditioner blows the perfect amount of cold. This atmosphere should have pulled you back to sleep, if it weren't for this godforsaken headache. Gosh, you wanted so bad to go back to sleep. But you are in pain, needing to pee and calm your growling hunger. You can even feel the vile gastric threatening to come up due to your empty stomach.

"How long do you plan to sleep on my bed?"

Familiar voice had spoken close to you and your body reacted way too fast. You sat up and opened your eyes. Leaning on the doorway was your ex-boyfriend Gojo Satoru. His blue eyes are neutral but his face says he was pissed.

His hair was damp. Droplets were even falling from it but he wore a white towel around his neck to prevent it from cascading further down to his body. He was half naked, only wearing an untied sweats that was hanging way too low for your comfort. Normally, you would say he was hot. But that was not the most important thing right now.

"What do you think you are doing inside my room-!?" In surprise, you yelled but were met by your very hoarse voice. You even ended up violently coughing and wheezing with how dry your throat was. It was as if you did a 24 hour karaoke with your friends or you competed at a screaming contest.

"Maybe before you groaned and moaned to someone else's bed, make sure you were actually on your bed." He tuts and moves towards where you were sitting. You felt a cold metal placed on your forehead and you sighed in relief. Even though it gave you a quick relief, it only happened for a second.

The pain, forgotten for a moment of shock, was now back twice ruthless. Your head was swimming in pain and you felt lightheaded. You left out a loud burp and you felt the hand, holding the can on your forehead, maneuvered fast to pick up the bucket placed methodically on his bedside. The respect you had for this man for preparing this much so he would be able to stop you if you plan to puke all over his place as revenge.

You wretched as if there was no tomorrow. All contents from last night probably had been vomited earlier because you felt only the acid of vile as it pushes whatever was still left inside of you. Heaving, you accepted the water he provided and gargled the last remaining content of puke in your mouth. You cleaned up using the back of your hand and leaned at the nearby chair while you were still sitting on his bed.

This is probably your year's nightmare. Drinking a lot for the first time, losing your friends by walking to someone else's house and worse, sleeping on your ex's bed and thinking it was so comfortable and homey earlier.

While you were thinking and regretting what you had done, you heard the scraping of the table being pulled closer to where you sat. His presence near you again. The clang of utensils, the sound of the lid being opened and plastic wrappers being crumpled and thrown had almost lull you to sleep when you felt a soft tap of his familiar hand on your shoulder.

With a blink, you straightened up and looked at the store bought food, placed in front of you.

It was cup noodles, a bottle of water and ibuprofen, placed on the side. The cold can of coffee just above it.

"Eat up or you will feel shittier than you are right now." He said more like an order and just stood in front of you with arms crossed.

You gulped and tried your best to eat but your hair kept on falling down and dipping on the cup noodles. You were already aware that you smelled like vomit, who could even imagine you can also smell like cup noodles. With a groan of frustration, you collected your hair on the side and was about to eat again when you felt his hand run through your hair.

He mumbled a soft "Let me." and with practiced moves, he was able to tie your hair with a hair tie. He used to do this a lot when you decided not to cut your hair shorter so you can donate it. He was so sweet and attentive when you were still together and this action of concern was not helping your case.

You sat and ate in silence while he stood there for a while and decided it was too awkward and he left you alone. He closed the door as softly as he could. Once you were sure he was gone, you gave out an empty scream and slapped your face multiple times. The pain, embarrassment, and anger were all mixed up as you felt it rise within you.

With a frustrated groan, you bite your lip and pray that this nightmare was all a dream. But you know better. Eyes staring at the familiar ceiling, you sighed. The room is engulfed with quiet except for your ragged breathing, indiciating, how sick you are.

The silence did not last long when you remembered your phone and frantically looked for it. You saw it placed properly on the nearby stool and almost cried when you saw the numerous texts and calls from your friends. Ranging from the early hours of the day and right now, it was asking for the same thing; where were you? or are you okay?.

Nervous, you tried your best to reply even with shaking hands and once you hit send, they immediately saw it and called.

The call was filled with screams of terror and relief that you were okay. But once they calmed down, you were able to talk to them properly. They even answered the gnawing question you had been wondering about when you saw Gojo in front you.

Around 3 am, you four had decided to book a room in a nearby hotel, instead of getting a cab and going home. You all were too wasted to even trust yourselves that you can all recall how to go home.

They never remember much after that but they were sure you were the first one to sleep on the bed. But later, after around 5 or 6, Iori woke up and saw you weren't there. They were filled with panic and terror because there is no way you can stand up after having that short sleep and being too drunk.

They tried to rationalize that maybe you did go home and tried to call you. But when you were still not picking up, they almost trashed the hotel room. Luckily, the cleaning lady was kind enough. When she saw their panicked and disheveled appearance, she asked the security to check if you left the hotel in one piece. It turns out, she had seen you four together and was also worried that something happened to you too.

They had seen you walking out of the room and through the lobby, up to the entrance. You obviously looked still drunk as you tried to wobble and walk straight ahead, outside of the hotel.

Since then, they have been blowing your phone with texts and calls. They could hear it ringing so they suspected that maybe you accidentally turned it to silent mode or you were kidnapped.

Grateful, you reassured them that you were fine. You made up a story that you booked a new hotel room, in another hotel, probably because you were drunk. Currently, you informed them that you were staying in that room and having breakfast. You reasoned out that you were not able to answer their calls and texts because you can barely open your eyes. It uproared another wave of panic but you told them firmly that you were fine and will call them once you take care of your too drunk ass. To stop them from asking further, you hung up the phone with an excuse that your battery was dying out.

There is no way that you will share to them that your drunk ass went to your ex's huge condominium and you thought as you woke that it was yours. You had been staying and visiting this place that your body immediately thought of this place as your other home.

After finishing your meal, and feeling the medicine taking effect. You psych yourself up to face the inevitable. There is no way you can just walk out of this place without confronting him about what you did and what he had to witness.

You walk to the restroom and try your best to look presentable and not a crazy person.

Once done, you slowly crept towards the door and opened it ajar, you scanned the place and looked for him. He was wearing a black fitted plain shirt, as he sat on the couch, sipping a cup of coffee as he typed something on his laptop. Probably, for work.

You walked slowly towards him and coughed to get his attention. His piercing blue eyes stared back at you, as he removed his glasses and closed his laptop. He grumbled and again, crossed his arms to his chest. His lips were abit pouted and the creases on his head showed a frown.

"I'm really sorry for trespassing. I promise I will never drink that hard again." You promised and even did a pinky swear in front of him. He looked unamused though as he replied with a doubtful "hmmm" and still had the same frowning face.

"Do you remember what you did then?" He asked.

"To be honest, no. I only remember being in a hotel with the girls and sleeping. I don't really remember much about what I did." You gulped when you saw him raised his eyebrow and sighed.

"See those keys?" He pointed at the keys placed on a bowl. "You used that to enter my condo. They were my spare keys that were still hidden in the same place. You were so drunk that you thought you went back home and even slept beside me. I thought I was sleeping with my pillow the whole morning, so imagine my surprise when that pillow turned out to be you." He shared with a firm voice, as if he even cannot fathom what happened.

However, something's amiss with that story.

"No way! Don't lie to me. I agree that I may have done the trespassing but sleeping beside you? Nahhhhhhh! I doubt that. Remember, you're a light sleeper! There is no way I can sneak up on you and sleep." It was now your time to raise your eyebrow and cross your arms at him. You even sounded smug for someone who owed him big time.

You do not believe that other accusation at all. That is so unbelievable and he was probably messing with you so you will feel guiltier from entering his home without permission.

"My new doctor prescribed effective sleeping pills for insomnia this time. I have been sleeping better and on time ever since. I never felt any movement at all." He smirked. And you know, you lose. Gojo never lied about these things and you also knew that he was struggling to sleep.

So if this was true, then for the whole morning, you were sleeping together!?

Who would even do that with her ex? Oh god you are stupid!

His smug look had made you feel ashamed even more and you know that you're red as a tomato. You feel hot all over and even at the end of your ears.

Let's end this humiliation and be done with this asap!

"I- Thank you for taking care of me. I owe you one. I'm so sorry again and will promise not to drink again and disturb you. Again, I am so sorry." With a deep bow, you sincerely apologize and you just hear him say "look up."

"It's alright. I'm glad your safe. Hangover but safe. " He taunted and you just wanted to slap that smirk out of his face. He was obviously implying how humiliating your shenanigans were. And they were, but he doesn't have the right to judge.

"Well then, if there's nothing more, I'll go back to the hotel and meet my friends." A bow again and you were on your way out.

You blinked when he slapped his hands on his thighs before he stood up and used his head to tell you to go first.

You frowned a bit in confusion but followed regardless.

This whole interaction was so awkward but familiar. He does this a lot whenever you visit his home. He usually drives you back home or if he can't, he will see you out to the entrance.

The elevator did not come sooner, however. It was creating unnecessary drama and tension between you two. As you just stood there, holding your bag for dear life. You hugged it for comfort and distraction on this growing awkwardness by standing near him. He looks fit. You imagine running your hands over him again. It was more tempting now than before.

"Please take care of yourself." You heard him speak first, breaking the ice. Your head whipped so fast in his direction when you heard his voice break a little when he said that. But when you looked at him, he titled his head to the side, confused at your action. Maybe you imagined it.

Embarrassed, you used the ping of the elevator as an excuse, thank god, and immediately rode the lift.

He was standing there on the other side, he was staring at you. It feels like someone was looking into your soul. You cannot help but feel vulnerable and open in front of his eyes. He looks solemn, calm.

If you stop me, I will forgive you and run back to your loving arms.

It was too late before you realized that you opened your mouth to speak and called his name.

"Satoru." His first name rang smoothly on your mouth. It feels comfortable and your heart twinged in pain when you realized that it may be the last time you will ever see him.

As the door closes slowly, you have seen his mouth move from your peripheral and he uttered your name softly, like how you say the name of the ones you treasured the most.

You do not know if you were just seeing things but his eyes look emotional, somewhat sad for a second. Before the elevator door finally closes and your name echoed when he said it.

"Y/N."

There were no tears as the lift started going down. You expected that seeing him one last time, you will feel the pain worse than before. Yet, that did not happen.

Staring at your reflection, your eyes look tired. The way those eyes bore at you speaks volume on how your soul truly feels about this.

You had a moment of acceptance when the doors closed in between you two.

A new chapter of your lives will arise. He will have his own world without you. He will be happy. He will be truly madly deeply in love with someone else.

And now, the hurt and pain became numb and cold.

Just imagining that he would love someone much greater than what he had given you was soul crushing to the point of rude awakening.

During those times, you will be happy for him. But you wish, as selfish as it sounds, that he will not be as happy when you were still together.

🐈

Gojo doesn't need to get up to know it was you who entered his condo without notice. He was a bit concerned that you kept on stumbling around and cussing his furniture out that managed to trip you, even though it was clearly your fault.

When he felt the bed dipped and your arms automatically hugging him from behind, it made him a bit nervous. He has to pretend to be asleep or else…….or else what? He never knew.

You smell like alcohol and you're even slurring your words. He never saw you this drunk before. In fact, you never liked alcohol. You have a terrible experience of living with an alcoholic, so a mere smell of alcohol repulses you. He never expected to see you drunk and barely kept together.

He was about to confront you, when he felt your arms tighten around him and your breath tickling his back when you said, "I'm home." with a sigh of relief before passing out.

Gojo had never felt more at peace hearing those words coming from your mouth.

🐈

When he woke up, he was just staring at you. He never had any proper sleep since the break up but knowing you were beside him, he was able to sleep well.

Maybe something inside him had been comforted when you said you were home. It actually warms his heart that you felt at home beside him.

He sat up and, a twang of pain rushed inside his chest. He shakes his hair in annoyance using his right hand.

He doesn't have the right to be sad about it when he was the one who broke it up with you.

Gojo never really knew why he did it in the first place. Sure, his family never approved of you but he never really cared about their opinion. He actually wishes for his old folks to die soon so he doesn't have to pretend that he cares about their words. He grew up without them being around.

Or maybe it was because he felt insecure that someone as kind and loving as you chose him. You were so different to the people he usually surrounds himself around but you were warm and he felt safe around you.

With a frustrated groan, Gojo stood up and was about to walk towards the door when he thought of an idea.

He slowly walked towards where you were asleep, bent down and whispered, "Welcome home." before kissing your forehead.

For the first time, after a week of him trying to justify that he made the right choice, making Nanami, his friend, worry that he was working too much, he felt at peace and happy.

Just for a moment, he wanted to pretend that he did not let you go for something so stupid and you were actually home with him.

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erikatsu · 1 year

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slutty old man welt 🧐 😋 monch 😋

tw: fem!reader. [n]sfw. age gap (cuz welt's like 80 lmao). mention of masturbation (m). oral (m!receiving). reader refers to welt as "mr. yang". pussy job (sorta). clothed sex. creampie. a bit rushed but oh well. maybe a bit ooc but i tried my best :,)

note: i went from idc for welt to okay im simping for welt LMAO. i love slutty old guys sue me. also lala im so sorry, i got carried away

welt yang often thought himself to be an ethical man. he'd been taught responsibility from a young age, always tried to do the right thing. at least he did until he met you. you'd caught his eye, but he knew better than to get involved with someone so young. however, the more he got to know you, the more he couldn't help himself.

it started out as looking at you for a little too long, knowing that he shouldn't. it's wrong the way his eyes linger as he watches you walk away, and you don't even realize you have his complete and undivided attention with your back turned to him. he knew that it wasn't okay, that he was old enough to be your grandfather even if physically he looked old enough to be your dad.

he didn't know when the lines began to blur– his inappropriate attraction to you turning into something much more than that– and he didn't know if it would ever go away. then again, welt wasn't even sure that he wanted it to. there was no harm in having a crush, especially if he didn't act on it. but, that was just wishful thinking– something he told him himself to rationalize his thoughts and feelings.

unfortunately for him, it got worse as time went on and those thoughts he tried to keep at bay were crossing his mind more often. and eventually, he stopped trying to hold them back all together. he stopped feeling guilty for thinking them too. so long as he wasn't trying to pursue you, he could maintain his integrity. even if at times he had to leave the room due to this. it's not as if it were entirely his fault. after all, welt had the power of his imagination.

every time you paraded around in shorts, he couldn't help but try to picture what you had on underneath them– was it lace, or silk, or perhaps nothing at all? he couldn't help himself when he'd see you had a sucker in your mouth, imagining what it would be like if it was your tongue swirling around the tip of his cock instead. that imagination always led him to where he is right now, sitting at his desk in his room with his head tilted back as he fisted his cock to the thought of you.

it wasn't an uncommon occurrence for him. although, you walking in on him just as your name almost fell from his lips was. a gasp fell from your mouth, one that would sound even prettier if he was the reason behind it, and he tried to react quick enough so you couldn't see what he was doing. but, it was too late.

you could see the embarrassment painting his cheeks a bright pink, and instead of turning around like you should have, you stayed. it surprised him when you asked, "mr. yang... do you need some help?"

of all the scenarios he imagined, this certainly was not one of them.

he cleared his throat, about to shake his head. not that he didn't want it, because he did. he did and the thought of it becoming a reality had him throbbing. but what kind of man would he be if he took advantage of your kindness? if he crossed that fine line? words, however, seemed to fail him when he went to speak.

its not as if you were being kind. you had also taken an interest in him– maybe not to the extent he did– and the curiosity and excitement were definitely there. you weren't quite sure what exactly it was about him, but he'd drawn you in without even trying. and the way he hesitated to answer told you what you already knew. he was interested, but he had his morals.

it wasn't until you approached and knelt in front of him that he let them all fly out the window. your hand replaced his, gentle yet firm. he let out a shaky breath, eyes closing before you took him in your mouth. he couldn't help the noise that escaped him, one of the scenarios he imagined finally playing out in real life.

it was ten times better than what went through his head.

he could tell you were enjoying how much of a mess he became so easily– purposely taking your time going down before coming up and teasingly snaking your tongue along his pink tip. you couldn't help but wonder just how long it had been since the last time a woman had touched him like this, seeing how he was already so close to the edge. possibly years, you figured as your free hand came up to cup his balls, giving them a light squeeze. perhaps even longer, you concluded upon hearing the groan that escaped him.

you pulled away, leaving your hand where it was, still toying with him as you looked up at him, "mr. yang, just how long has it been since someone properly took care of you?"

too long, he wanted to say. but his mind was overran by all the sensations he was feeling due to you. luckily, you were sharp and your assumptions were correct. you hummed to yourself before standing, his eyes flying open once your touch was gone. imagine his surprise when he saw you sliding out of those cotton shorts you always loved to wear.

he couldn't believe how one person left him utterly speechless, unable to process what was about to happen as you sat in his lap. he watched as your eyes left his, briefly glancing down to his lips. almost as if you were hesitant to make another move. although he couldn't muster the courage to speak, he could certainly pull you closer and press his lips against yours with ease.

his hands flew down to your hips, rocking you against his length. you whimpered against his mouth, already aching for him. you definitely didn't need the warm up– his reactions alone were enough to get you going– yet you allowed yourself to enjoy it for the moment. the two of you crossed a line there was no coming back from, and the possibility of this being the only time had the both of you engrossed in the other. trying to memorize the way you two fit together as if you were puzzle pieces.

the thought of this being the only time flipped some kind of switch in his mind, his hands moving to your thighs before standing up and taking you with him. he took just a couple of steps before lying you down on his bed, eagerly slipping out of his before hovering over top of you. his eyes searched yours for any sign of apprehension or nervousness. but he found none. a simple nod of your head was all it took to have him pushing one of your legs back and lining himself up with your entrance.

as he sank into you, he once again caught you by the mouth. you whined as he slowly stretched you out, trying to keep quiet so you didn't catch the unwanted attention of the others. the express had thin walls, and everyone throughout the hall would hear you if they were in their rooms.

"let it out," he muttered, rolling his hips with a slow steady rhythm, allowing you to adjust to him. "dont get shy now."

it didn't seem to be an option, using that moment to fully bottom out inside you. your back arched and a choked noise left your mouth. he did this a few times– keeping his thrusts short yet deep– picking up his pace until your whines and whimpers turned into moans. you could feel your toes curl as the tip of his cock lightly kissed that sweet spot, finally crying out, "mr. yang. r-right there."

he thought the two of you were now well past formalities, but he couldn't help but groan that escaped him at your use of "mr. yang". it had him rutting quicker, and with a bit more force. you were panting, clinging to him while squeezed your eyes shut. his hips were moving at an alarming rate as you dug your fingers into his skin, clenching around him as you cried out. a knot quickly built up in your stomach, releasing just as quickly as it came.

cursed left his mouth as you tightened around him, excited moans leaving you and a euphoric sensation sweeping over your body leaving you a shaking mess underneath him. he hadn't even heard his warning that he was going to cum too, but you didn't seem phased when he pushed into you with one final thrust.

you tried to catch your breath, staring up at him through your lashes. he was still hard, cock twitching inside you as he also tried to cool down. you briefly bit down on your lip, unable to stop yourself from asking, "are you up for another round, mr. yang?"

TAGS: @dottores @dxlucs @mxnjiros @suyacho

#honkai star rail smut #hsr smut #welt x reader #welt yang x reader #honkai star rail x reader #honkai star rail x you #hsr x reader #hsr x you

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astralnymphh · 1 month

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okay likeeee mom!ellie playing with the kid at the park or something and it’s just SOOO CUTE😭😭😭😭😭🙊🙊🙊

mom!ellie certainly has a chosen tote bag that has everything her child could ever need— it's slightly worn at the straps and probably has a hole struck through the bottom corner, but it's got charm! packs snacks, devices, stuffed animals, and other various styles of toys to show off. ellie wants her kid to be the coolest and most fun to be around, so she obviously brings some kind of mini drone— that she ends up fiddling with herself and accidently flings it into the nearest bough. and once that idea fails, due to her own shenanigans, she'll just cede her handy bag and belongings to you for the hour, "gonna go join 'em, since i brought my skateboard. love you babe, don't feed the pigeons without me— mwah." pecks you on the forehead and gives your shoulder the old reassuring pat–pat prior to her ass darting towards the main playset and maneuvering through the labyrinth that is playground construction. her converse screech on the tongue of a slide as she (unlawfully) climbs up to go and pursue her kid, only to get told off by some rule–abiding kid, or a literal supervisor, "shit, my bad! just trynna' find my kid! uh— ignore me!" and once she does find them, ushering them over to the outskirts of the woodchip filled area, she'd mess around on her skateboard (totally not to impress her kids' friends) pulling out the neatest tricks in the book before getting a tad too cocky and tripping over herself, button of her nose meeting the hard, rough edge of the curb. "fuck! ugh, shit— n't again— nope nope, you didn't hear that! i did not swear!" scrambles to get up; pushes onto her knees and notices the blotches of crimson freshly drawn upon the slate gray stone, dabbing the hem of her hoodie sleeve in without thinking. park day— without fail, routinely concludes in ellie trudging hand–in–hand with your kid, her dismantled drone, perfectly in–tact skateboard, and a nosebleed, which you selflessly oblige to clean up later, her head nestled in your lap as you dab a balled up tissue along the bridges of her nostrils, those dumb, out–of–it eyes blinking repetitively, rolling around the ceiling bounds, staring up at you, mumbling somethings along the possible translations of, "that was a good day, i think. y'know, next time you shouldn't—" points her finger up at you, "let me on that playset. could end up with a sprained ankle, and you'll have to carry me to bed.. how bad would that be? eh, actually, that sounds kinda—", "ellie. don't sprain your ankle, please."

DAILY CLICK . IMPORTANT TLOU POST . PALESTINE INFO

nosebleed in question:

#ellie williams #⤹𓍢ִ໋aestras asks #ellie williams x reader #ellie tlou #lesbian #sapphic #ellie x reader #ellie williams fluff #ellie williams headcanons #domestic!ellie #mom!ellie #ellie williams blurb

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dior-and-dietcoke · 2 years

Text

───ENVYING HIS ANGEL.

⌗ 𝐀𝐊!𝐉𝐀𝐒𝐎𝐍 𝐓𝐎𝐃𝐃 + 𝐁𝐈𝐌𝐁𝐎!𝐑𝐄𝐀𝐃𝐄𝐑

𝟏𝟖+, DARK CONTENT, kind of corruption kink, DUBCON, breeding, hint of ddlg, rough sex, spit, slight size kink, choking, slapping, harsh degradation turning into praise, chubby!reader, Jason's emotions are all over the place, implied Stockholm syndrome and kidnapping, little bit of soft love declaration, the "I can fix him" syndrome, finger sucking, mentioned forced cum eating, all characters are over 18, readers skin color is not mentioned

Your kidnapper comes back and he's acting weirder than usually

✧ 𝐌𝐈𝐍𝐎𝐑𝐒 𝐃𝐎 𝐍𝐎𝐓 𝐈𝐍𝐓𝐄𝐑𝐀𝐂𝐓 ✧ 𝟏𝟖+ 𝐎𝐍𝐋𝐘!!

You were in the knights big and cold room, feeling the cold breeze on your bare skin dressed in nothing but that baby pink lingerie he has gifted you, waiting for him to come back from whatever he was doing all night, he never told you anything, he didn't need to, All you knew was that he had multiple dark blue and red bruises whenever he came back..maybe even some open wounds, like every other night.

The sound of loud and heavy steps suddenly but slowly came closer and closer until the metal door opened, and immediately got slammed back into it's doorframe.

your knight was finally back, standing tall and big in his impressive armor. He was quiet until you stood up from the bed "Honey, i—" "sit down."

His moduled voice demanded, giving you shivers and making you instinctively fall back onto the soft cream colored sheets "yes, sir.."

you looked up at him as he slouched towards the big mirror and closet as he took the helmet off, the way he moved seemed like he was hurt badly, he was leaning against the dresser by holding the door in a tight grip with his left hand.

Realistically, you shouldn't care about how hurt your kidnapper was but..you were already over questioning your feelings towards this dangerous man, your dumb mind just knew that you loved him..yeah, he kidnapped you but just like he told you "it's safer here, than outside.." and he was right, you would've been already dead in a ditch, on the cold streets outside the destroyed gotham,

or worse, "the horrible men outside could do horrible things to you". He made good points to you. even though he was even more dangerous than these men he was talking about, but he wanted to protect you..

"J-jay?.." you asked hesitantly as he slammed the helmet onto the desk, letting his natrual voice speak up "what?" It sounded almost annoyed, you knew he had a short temper. But that didn't stop you from pursuing him.

Your body twitched and you grabbed at the sheets, your throat was dry due to the fear you felt when he talked like that..but the thing is, the fear of him is what pulls you towards him. The fear you feel when looking at his tall form in his intimidating armor gets you excited like nothing else, knowing that he could beeak you in half just like that made you so, so wet. and he knows that too, you're not the best at hiding these feelings.

You stood back up and hugged his big and cold armored torso, you felt him immediately tense up "I missed you.."

His breath hitched softly as your hands took his armory off of his tense and sore body, Jason let out a soft almost incoherent sigh

"I get so lonely without you, jay" you were playing with fire talking to him like that, and you knew it but you felt like you had to tell him this everytime he came back. You knew under all that cold armor was just damaged, bruised and busted and neglected skin that needed to be taken care of.

You were done taking the pointy, wet and cold metal off him and put it back into the dresser, your warm hands went under his black shirt, feeling his cold skin. Jason tensed under your touch again and finally looked at you, he looked so good in the golden light of the built In lamps, radiating off his scarred and beautiful skin.

"You missed me?" His gruff and almost tired voice pulled at your poor heart strings, and the way his cold eyes that have seen most things that tou couldn't even comprehend stared into your untainted ones, so bright and warm.

You then nodded at his question and softly pressed your cheek into his strong back "I did.."

All of a sudden Jason turned to you and grabbed you by the throat as he pushed you towards the bed, his eyes never leaving yours. His grip was tight and barely let any air reach or leave your lungs "drop that pathetic act." He warned, his breath fanning over your face, you tried to look away but his hand forced you to look back at him.

"I fucking hate it when you act all innocent.." he paused to take a good look at you "it's sickening.. especially knowing what a filthy fucking slut you actually are." Don't get him wrong, he doesn't hate you for it, he hates himself. He wish he could look as innocent as you, but he just can't, all that innocence was taken away from him by a psychopathic clown, when he came back from the grave and woke up in this disgusting pit. He envies you.

You shook your head as best as you could and immediately felt a harsh sting on your cheek before Jason slammed you onto the made bed "don't fuckin' lie to me" he said through gritted teeth, you could almost feel his anger "I hate when you act like that.." he let out a bitter chuckle "acting like a sweet, innocent little housewife when we both know that you are far from that"

you looked up at him, you were confused, truly confused. You just tried to be nice to him, because you know he needs it. But he can't accept that, he's not used to it, he's confused by it. He's been forgotten and neglected, he doesn't understand why you were trying to be so sweet to him..

"You would drink my fucking cum from a cup if I gave it to you." His hand went from your throat up to squeeze your cheeks, you felt his knee firmly press up against your clothed clit, leading to you trying to suppress a little moan. "You would wear a fucking collar and a leash while I make you drink from a bowl full of cum, if I wanted you to..you're disgusting." You felt tears well up at your lash line as you desperately tried to avoid eye contact. "Ain't that right? Hm?"

Jason let out a gruff laugh seeing tears roll down your cheeks "now you're cryin'? Thinkin' you'll get me soft, hm? That won't work again, sweetheart." You choked down a sniffle, you cried because you knew everything he accused you of was true, but you also loved him..you really did, he opened up to you before, you know how he feels and what he went through..you couldn't believe him at first but his scars and that look in his eyes told you that he spoke the truth.

"J-jaso—" you got cut off by your own sharp gasp as Jason forced his hand down your panties, sliding his index and middle finger through your folds and let out another bitter laugh "fuckin' wet..of course you are.."

"Please, jason—please, stop" you whined, grabbing at his hands. but it was no use, Jason was obviously stronger and bigger than you. "Just say it." He groaned, looking down at you, slowly sinking his thick fingers into your tight cunt. "Say that you're a slut, fuckin' that loves to be pushed around by me, say it."

Jason knows deep down that you are, in fact, that innocent angel who's just a little dirty. But he sees himself in you and he wants you to admit how disgusting the two of you are.

"N-no—please, jay!" You plead in a broken moan as Jason's already finger fucking you, dragging his skilled fingers along your soft and sensitive walls. And it felt so fucking good, no matter how much his words hurt and degraded you..it still lit a fire deep inside of you, you liked having him talk to you like that, it felt good that someone had this much control over you. You needed this..

Once you protested again, Jason's palm hit your cheek once more. "I want you to say it." He threatened through a clenched jaw and gritted teeth as his grip tightened around your cheeks. You whimpered and involuntarily let your eyes roll back at the way he stroked that one specific spot inside of you. "There's that pretty look, hm? Just admit it" jason shook her head around in his palm and glanced down to your parted lips before coming closer to you, puckering up his lips and letting a string of spit drip into your mouth "swallow it." He demanded

After you did as he said, you moaned loudly as a strike of electricity ran through your entire body, even feeling it in the tips of your fingers with a few last strokes of his fingers inside of your cunt. Jason always loved to watch you cum, he was so entranced by how your face twisted in pleasure in such a beautiful expression that he almost forgot what he wanted you to do.

And then you made his brain crash all together with just three simple words that weighted so fucking heavy on him:

"I love you—" you cried, hot tears and spit sliding down your face, jason froze in place as those words left your drooling mouth. "..what?" He gasped and grabbed your fucked out face while his fingers kept overstimulating your poor, weeping cunt. "I-i—Jason! St-stopp!" You mewled but Jason shut you right up again "say what you just said again, please" if you didn't know any better, you'd say he almost sounded desperate.

Your big knight loosened his grip on your cheeks and just softly placed it on the side of your cheek "say it again, I wanna hear it" he swallowed as your eyes set on him, you could see the desperation in his eyes. He needed you to say it again. Jason doesn't think he ever heard anyone say these three words to him before, not his parents and sure as hell not batman, and that fact hurts him more than anything else but it pulls him so fucking close to you.

You gulped and gasped in a harsh breath "i-i said-" you swallowed again

"I love you, jason.."

He was gone at this point—his brain just shut off after feeling the sharp hit of your soft words, the way you said his name in such a soft and loving manner was breathtaking, he felt a bright and white hot fire burning in his stomach, His heart started hammering against his chest looking at your puffy eyes and lips.

"Fuck.." he let out a heavy breath and smashed his lips against yours, fingers still fucking you open. you were still whining and whimpering due to the overwhelming overstimulation, but his mouth was now swallowing all of your pathetic little sounds. Your hands tried to push Jason off you, you couldn't take this, especially because you were about to cum again.

"It's okay, it's okay..cum again" he reassured with a kiss to your forehead, you suddenly felt warm inside as Jason's gruff voice spoke softly against your ear, leading to you cumming again all over his fingers and the now disheveled sheets with a loud and desperate cry. Jason laid his head down on your chest and slowly stroked your sensitive walls, you started running your hand through his dark and soft hair as you felt your muscles soften, it was hard to move after that orgasm.

"Can you say it again?" He asked quietly against your damp skin, you smiled softly and just held him against your limp body "I love you, Jason"

Having you say it again to him, but while you're holding him like this with your hand stroking his hair and scalp, made him feel do weird and warm, he loved this feeling. "I really do.." Jason straightened his back and looked down at you before taking his shirt off, giving you a clear view of the long autopsy scar and a few smaller ones accompanied by blue and black wounds. But he looked so damn good. Jason slipped his finger under your bra strap to let it snap back in place against your skin. "Take it off for me.."

You nodded and reached behind you to unstrap your bra but your eyes caught Jason taking his tactical pants off, giving you a clear sight of his hard and huge cock in his dark red and tight boxers, you immediately spotted the wet spot at the head of his cock. You noticed you've been staring once jason pulled his boxers down and that once clothed cock was now on full display. all hard, throbbing over his heavy and full balls ready to pump your womb full of his cum. And the cherry on top was the nice happy trail he had, trimmed but not too trimmed.

You whimpered and clenched your still sore thighs together while pulling your bra off and shamefully covering your tits with your hands, making them look even better pressed up against you "What are you doing? I've seen 'em before" he chuckled and grabbed your hands to pin them down by your sides, exposing your pretty and hard nipples to him as they bounced on impact.

"There they are.." he slowly let go of your hand and slid the surprisingly soft skin of his finger tips down your arm until he got to your collar bones and then finally to your soft tits, causing jason to groan out a low and erotic "fuck.."

you whimpered pathetically and bit your bottom lip "whimpering over this?" He softly laughed "pathetic.." he said, but he found it cute, he loved your little noises.

"What if I.." he paused and barely touched your hardened bud "do this?" Before pinching and twisting it a bit. Your back arched off the mattress and into his touch "you really are a fuckin' sight aren't you?" You shook your head and teared up again "awe..my little crybaby.." he cooed and kissed your tear stained cheek "you want my cock, don't you?"

He asked bluntly and you shyly nodded, but Jay just grabbed your face again with his big hand "I need your big girl words, I know you can use 'em" his voice was less gruff and demanding now, it was sweet like honey..

You swallowed hard due to your dry throat, "y-yes.." you mumbled and Jason slid the wet head of his cock up and down your slick and sticky folds, making you think he was gonna give you what you want. But after a dew strokes you noticed he wanted you to beg more, Jason's eyes kept staring you down, like a predator stalking it's prey. Jason was dangerous in more ways than one.

You began to mewl and paw at his strong shoulders that could hold your weight easily, even if you are a bit heavier. "You're moanin' a lot right now, are you okay?" Jason faux pouted "you need something?"

You did. God you did..and the knew that, of course.

"Your cock! Please..jason—ahh.." you tried to form a coherent sentance but it was so damn hard with his cock bumping your clit and occasionally circling it, it was driving you crazy. If he kept this up he'd have to send your ass to arkham.

"Hm? What about my cock, baby?" He huffed, you felt his cock throbb against you, he was loving this even more than you. He loved the way he could make you submit to him with just a look, and have you go airheaded. Thinking of nothing else but him and his cock.

You whimpered desperately, almost starting to cry again "Jason!! I need it, f-fuck me, sir! P-please—" you saw Jason's Adam's apple Bob as he swallowed and then grinned down at you "shit, baby, that's all you had to say.." he chuckled and slid his cock down from your clit to your clenching hole "but you gotta let me in, sweetheart.."

He swiped some of your hair out of the way and whispered to you in that sweet tone again "stop clenchin', open up.." you took a deep breath and tried your best to let him in. Jason couldn't stop looking at you, he was still thinking about you telling him how you love him, he wanted to hear it again. But that side was fighting with the side that just wanted to fuck you dumb, dumb and dumber.

The second he finally slipped the head of his cock inside had him breathing so heavy, he felt you many times before, but goddamn. The first seconds of sliding in were the best seconds of his life.

Jason made sure to let you feel every inch, curve and vein of his pretty cock inside your tight and sensitive pussy until that soft batch of hair above his cock brushes against your clit and Jay was pulling your legs up to get even deeper, cock head pressed snugly against your cervix.

He was huffing and grunting at the feel of your soft and warm cunt gripping him like a fist, his eyes were rolling back as he slowly and sensually rolled his hips into you. Your hands went immediately to his back and scratching it softly, forcing him to groan even louder.

his cock felt so good and hard. He was making you feel so full, so complete. If he was to pull out you would literally cry and forget how to act like a normal adult woman. "j-jay..please don't sto—" you gasped as his cock rubbed that sweet and special spot inside you "right there—nghh!..r-right there, baby.." you moaned desperately, clawing at his shoulder blades.

Jason softly pressed his forhead into the sheets, next to your neck before kissing it softly "right here?" He asked as he deviously thrusted up into the exact spot, having you suddenly scream out in pleasure. You slapped your hand over your mouth embarrassed but Jason was quick to grab it to push it onto the sheets again. "No, no, no..don't hide it.." he paused and kissed your plush and wet cheek again "please, I wanna hear you.."

Your whimper got turned into a high pitched moan once jason suddenly started to roughly rutt into you "F-fuck!!" You cursed with the same high pitch. Words couldn't describe how utterly good he felt, its like his cock was made for you, like he was made for you..

You reached up and put your shaky hands on the sides of his scarred cheek, as you softly ran your thumb over the 'j' carved into his pretty skin. You knew he hated this scar more than the other ones, due to the bigger tragedy and torture behind it. You made him look at you, he looked just like a hurt puppy like this..anytime you would get him into his feelings, his big bad facade just dropped, whether he wanted it to or not. "It could stand for Jason.." you choked out. Your dumb Remark made him laugh as he slowed down on fucking you and returning to the sensual hip rolling "yeah?" He stroked his thumb over your cheek, you nodded "either way, I think it still makes you look beautiful." You smiled putting your hands on the back of his neck and pulling him down to kiss him.

You loved Jason, you really really did.

As you two kissed, the kiss slowly went from sweet and loving to animalistic and just horny. And with his thrusts to match he sped up and pounded into you, head knocking against your cervix and that spot that made your toes curl.

Jason's grip on your thighs will definitely leave marks tomorrow, but you don't mind it, you like seeing the pretty marks he left the next morning.

You were moaning and whimpering into Jason's mouth as his and your tongue were gliding against one another in such need, it was soessy to the point of spit dribbling out from your mouth and tongues slipping out once in a while.

Feeling you moan into his mouth just made jason more feral, he was slamming his cock into your poor little pussy so hard that you were already about to cum. You grabbed onto his shoulders to push Jason a little bit away from you to break that wet and messy kiss. jason almost fucking came with how pretty you looked right now; eyes puffy, cheeks and ears all hot and your big and plump lips wet from the kiss. He felt his cock throb inside you, and he was sure you felt it too with the little whimper you let out and the way your thighs clenched just a little bit

"J-jason! 'M bout to cum! I'm gonna cum—" jason shit you right up by kissing you again and fucking you even faster, the loud sounds of wet skin on skin slapping was obscene.

He broke the kiss for just a second to whisper "it's okay baby, you can cum. Cum for me, baby.." you locked your legs around his waist and continued to press him against you like you were scared he would leave. But he won't, he'll probably stay with you until he dies...and then come back again to be with you again.

Your nails clawed at his back as you desperately huffed for air and moaned more into the kiss, you felt the knot in your tummy being pulled tight until it ultimately snapped and you felt that bolt of electricity again, this time way, way harder. You broke the kiss and threw your head back while mewling and screaming, you looked so damn cute when you lost it and creamed on his cock.

Jason bit down hard on his bottom lip to not let any sounds out while he chased his high, all he needed for that was your pussy already dripping around him and you laying on his bed, grabbing at the sheets while he fucked you so hard your tits were bouncing like crazy.

"Fuck baby, look so pretty when you cum.." he clenched his jaw a little and groaned when you clenched around him at the praise. Jason's eyes fell to where you two were connected and started to rub over your puffy clit "do it again, I need to see it again" he moaned and grabbed onto your soft tummy "gonna make you fuckin' pregnant, yeah? Gonna fill you up so good.." he paused to just moan and grunt at the thought of you being pregnant.

"Fuck.." he mumbled, almost incoherent and choked, "gonna look so fuckin' pretty for me, won't ya?"

You nodded and immediately threw your head back to let your mouth fall into an 'o' as you came once again, making an even bigger mess on his cock.

He felt his drip over his balls and just gripped your tummy tighter "fuck—'m gonna cum, baby..gonna cum real deep inside you" right after he promised that he folded your legs back onto your chest and fucked faster and harder into your spent cunt.

He was huffing and moaning when you felt his huge cock throb and twitch inside of you, he was hitting so deep again that your eyes rolled back and bit your bottom lip, you wanted to cum again. "B-baby! Gonna cum—nghh! Gonna cum again!" Jason just grinned at your struggled moans and kissed you again "'m gonna cum too, baby..let's cum together, yeah?" He offered while grabbing onto your hands and then pressing his forhead against yours.

You both moaned louder and tensed your bodies more until jason came deep inside you, his thrusting became sloppy and hitched as your pussy began to milk his cock, draining every drop of cum from his balls as your orgasm hit you.

You and Jason just laid there for about 5 minutes, just him holding you against his chest and your little hands on the width of his now marked back. "Hey..uh.." Jason began, making you look up at him with those damn puppy dog eyes "I don't.. I don't know why I said those awful things..I'm..I'm really sorry" he mumbled, still thinking that you would leave him like everyone else "baby.." you started, and he interrupted you before you could reject his apology "I love you." He said in a slight panicked tone.

Your eyes widened, you never thought you would hear him say that..but here he was, surprising you again.

"I know that this situation you're in is awful, and that I am awful..but just know that..i love you and would do anything to protect you..." Jason said in a slightly cracked voice as he grabbed your hand and kissed it a few times before just pressing it onto his cheek.

You put both your hands onto the sides of his face "I love you too, baby.." you kissed him softly, and you felt his breath hitch at the softness, yeah he kissed you before..but not like this. "I won't leave you..I love you, Jason.. "

Jason stared at you for just a few seconds and saw how genuine your smile was, and he felt tears run down his face, he just nervously laughed it off and wiped them away "it's okay..okay?" You asked him with a small kiss onto his scar.

He nodded and placed his hands on your waist, felling your soft and smooth skin "okay.."

Tagging : @spaceace5834 @winterbimbwo

#arkham knight smut #arkham knight #jason todd #jason todd smut #dc smut #jason todd x reader #arkham knight x reader #cw dubcon #cw rough #chubby!reader #bimbo!reader #—☆jojo writes‧₊˚

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mncxbe · 2 months

Text

𝑭𝒚𝒐𝒅𝒐𝒓 𝒙 𝒇𝒆𝒎!𝒂𝒏𝒈𝒆𝒍 𝒓𝒆𝒂𝒅𝒆𝒓

𝑨𝒖𝒕𝒉𝒐𝒓'𝒔 𝒏𝒐𝒕𝒆: reference post; @soullessfyodor here's my take on Fyodor with a guardian angel♡// ღೀ๋࣭ ⭑𝒄𝒘: delulu, Fyodor's a bit manipulative + has a God complex, dubious relationship between them, possibly inaccurate biblical lore

he knows you're there, knows you exist. growing up in a religious family, he's always been told that his guardian angel was watching over him, making sure he was safe from any danger. but trying to interact with you never actually occurred to him

you showed yourself to him for the first time when he was around ten. he'd caught a terrible flu and his already weak body could barely handle it. so you did your job, you healed him and ever since you visited him more and more often

it was against the rules but what could you do? he was a quiet kid, a bit too intelligent for his own good and you just had a feeling that there was something wrong with him

your suspicions were confirmed once he started joining different criminal organizations. you tried to keep him on a straight path but there wasn't much you could do to change his resolve

"Don't worry, my dear angel, I am quite certain that the purity of my soul is untainted." he smiled as he packed his few belongings in a suitcase.

"I'm begging you, Fyodor. Don't go to Japan it's a bad idea–" you protested but he wouldn't have it.

"I'm not keen on using this argument but I am an adult now, angel. I can make my own decisions"

"You're still acting like a kid" you huffed, fluffing your wings, causing a few feathers to fall on the bed covers. Fyodor chuckled, gently seizing your chin "And you're still acting like my mother. There's no need for you to be so concerned for me"

ever since Fyodor moved to Japan to pursue his plans the relationship between you changed. Fyodor became more secretive, but you still didn't give up on your routine– every night, Fyodor played the cello for you or read you a few pages of his book. those were his little ways of showing you his gratitude for always being there for him

after a few months you could sense a deeper change. he barely talked to you about his plans and every time you tried to voice your concerns he deflected

"My, my, angel. I told you before there's no reason to worry about me." smiled the man, motioning you to join him in bed.

"I'm serious, Fyodor. I can't keep covering up for you. You're killing people don't you realize your actions have consequences for me? And for you too" Fyodor simply laughed, pulling you next to him as he traced the outline of your wings with his fingertips "Am I upsetting the higher ups?" You nodded and his grin widened. Cupping your face with his free hand, Fyodor brought you closer to him.

"Why should I care about that, my dear? After all, I am a God myself, aren't I?" Before you could reply Fyodor placed a kiss to the corner of your lips"You know I'm right."

"You shouldn't say such things"

"You've let so many things slide, angel, I'm sure you can excuse some mild blasphemy"

and you did let it slide, and other things too. there were many things he should've been sanctioned for but you swept them under the rug– no matter what atrocious things he did you still believed he was the sweet Fyodor you once knew

it didn't take long until you lost your place among the angels and were sent to hell. call it divine judgement, or karma, but covering Fyodor's endeavours for so long did have a consequence

as a fallen angel you could still come to earth whenever you pleased but for a while you avoided Fyodor. you were mad he was cruel enough to let this happen. all of this could've been avoided if he would've just listened to you

still, it didn't take long for you to return to him. after spending so much time together you couldn't just ignore him. especially not when you could hear him calling out your name through the endless night in hell

"So, my angel, are you getting accustomed to your new home?" he taunted, his lithe fingers dancing along the cello's cords, his music echoing through the dim-lit room.

"Don't you dare joke about that" you hissed "How did you find out in the first place?"

"I figured, since you stopped visiting for a while..." Taking note of your silence Fyodor sighed, putting down his instrument "I do appreciate your sacrifice, angel. Your devotion is truly remarkable"

You scoffed again at his words, feeling your blood boil "You should be ashamed of yourself. You condemned me to a life in hell."

"You could always come and live with me. You're more than welcome in my humble home" he said in a honeyed vocie as he got up from his chair and moved towards you. He kneeled in front of the futon you were laying on and held your hand. "My dear angel, forgive me. If what I doing wasn't this important I would've given up on my goals. But it can't be helped"

You sighed, running your thumb along his knuckles "Such important plans yet you cannot tell me anything about them."

"Of course not" he smiled "Not now at least, but one day will come when I'll tell you everything. Until then, you'll have to trust me."

You remained silent for a while, a heavy tension settling between the two of you before he spoke again. "You lost your God and your status, but I assume you still have your powers."

"You're correct"

"Then stay by my side, look over me like you always have" The man rose to his feet and leaned closer to you, his breath fanning over the shell of your ear "I can give you a purpose. That's what you need, right?"

"So you're asking me to taint my soul even more? To give up on my principles, on everything."

"You were already deemed a sinner, my angel. You've fallen. I'm offering you a way to rise back up– a new god, a new purpose." Striaghtening his back, he bowed, holding a hand in front of you. "So what do you say?"

You weren't stupid– it was obvious what Fyodor was after. He just needed your powers to keep him alive. You were just another tool, another pawn. But it was the best deal you could've asked for, so you hesitantly accepted his hand. Fyodor smiled, helping you up from the couch before he placed a tender kiss to the back of your hand.

"You and I, my dear, are going to accomplish great things together"

#𝐫𝐞𝐪𝐮𝐞𝐬𝐭𝐞𝐝ღೀ๋࣭ ⭑#bungou stray dogs #bsd #bsd x reader #bsd fluff #bsd fyodor #bungo stray dogs fyodor #fyodor bsd #fyodor x reader #bungo stray dogs fluff #bsd headcanons #fyodor dostoyevsky bsd

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nouvxllev · 19 days

Note

"When I saw you

I fell in love, and

you smiled

because you knew

-William Shakespeare"

LOVE.LOVE.LOVE.

I wanted to make a request! I had a similar interaction like this, and when I had read this, I fell inloveeeeee with this qoute sm. Can you do a Wednesday x Reader? In which it's Wednesday who actually falls inlove 😭

amore, amore, amore.

Pairing: Author!Wednesday Addams x Gn!Reader

Summary: request!! ^^

Words: 6.0k (oh what the fuck)

Warnings: told in WEDNESDAYS POV AND ALTERNATE TIMELINES!, the gomezification of wednesday addams prevails, yes they meet at a museum, also kinda 7 husbands of evelyn hugo coded, slight plottwist at the end!

a/n: aaaa ofc ofc!! also i absolutely love the idea where wednesday fell first and harder

masterlist

I believe they cursed me the moment their lips became something worth fighting for.

"If they intend to halt my publishing, then so be it. I have no interest in entertaining that brain-dead company over countless of reasons as to why I shouldn't spare a few weeks for myself who believe I will fall under their will."

"Wednesday, they're the ones who publish your books, you just can't ignore their calls."

"Barclay, has your brain deteriorated to a degree in such a way that you are forgetting it's my presence that upholds that fucking company? Without me, they are nothing. Have you forgotten with how much power I withhold over them, or have your scales reached that hollow of a brain?"

"You can't ignore the leverage they have over you, sure you have the amount of money, if not more, to sue them, but they could literally tip you off and brand you as some selfish author."

"Please do comprehensively explain to me as to why I would be a selfish author?"

"Wednesday Friday fucking Addams, it's because you're half-way across the fucking world at some fucking museum in Italy while you have a manuscript due a fucking week ago!"

"I fail to see my fault."

"Addams, if you don't get your shit together, I swear—"

I had solved countless of murders in my time of Nevermore. I had one thing to do when I finally left, and I was going to succeed.

If you had told me after I willingly left that horrid place you call an educating institution that I would experience the same fate as an author, I would've traced the outer skin of your face with a pocket knife and display it on your family's doorstep.

Barclay, amongst others, remained someone I held close. She could be infuriating, but no one would ever be much deserving of a terrible, terrible position than be under my control as my manager when I pursued writing.

But no one tells you how people could easily forget you in a matter of seconds if you don't make a name for yourself when you've put yourself out there, even if it's something far, far from your own.

I was only fortunate enough people enjoyed what I publish.

I couldn't care less if they didn't, that's why I found it hard to give two shits about what that damned company thought of my revised schedule. But I needed to make a living. To make something out of myself.

If I had continued my actions— in which I have full control over with—I could lose everything.

I could've build it up from scratch if it happened, but Lucifer knows how long would a simple idea for a plot that could get into the lack of attention span of the population could take.

I could lose the name I print on paper.

I could lose my name.

And then I realized I haven't.

There was something that I was destined to fall under. It was there with my eyes taped to a painting, not knowing I became one for another.

I hung up. The mere thought of having a multistep plan to eventually murder my manager was between God and me. That woman had me teetering on the edge of becoming a one-hit serial killer overnight.

My head tilted over a large painting towering amidst the others down the line. My hands remained tucked deep within the pockets of a trench coat far too oversized for me.

I couldn't take much time of squinting, staring as if it had garnered my interest not after a dreaded phone call that I convinced myself truly took my energy and managed to inject anesthesia inside my veins.

A light sway became evident in my steps, as if I was sulking in my own woe of what I should and could've done to prevent myself fucking it up on a company that I could soon own if not me being under the age of what is required to own a firm without having to ring up my own godforsaken of a family.

I could almost take another step if I wasn't met with another person.

Countless of papers flew across the hard-tiled floor. It was over before I knew what had happened. I found myself standing there, eyes glued to the person I collided with, my eyebrows crossed and my mouth hung open like a fool.

"I'm—I'm so sorry, fuck." They grit under their breath, like they were berating themselves while they picked up the rest of what had fell.

I stood there, not knowing what to do or what not to do but stare at them and wait for them to pull themselves up.

And so that's what I did.

I wish I hadn't.

Because now it was the time I was unable to speak. Unable to use the words I've been writing my novels with, the words that I should've spoken in the seconds they had landed in front of me. For the first time, my words had failed me.

A question rang in my head, Why do I now feel as if I do not belong inside of my own body? Why does my life feel complete now that they were here?

When Y/n fixed herself, she looked at me and smiled. I knew I looked like an idiot staring at them, yet I never went out of my way to barely fix myself.

Why were they smiling?

"Why are you smiling?" I asked under my breath, like I was taken breathless. I hadn't mean to say it out loud, but my cold and otherwise damned heart seemed to be alive, like I was suffocating in my own rate. A fool in front of them I must've been.

They looked at their paper, then they looked at me.

They smiled yet again. Another question flicked across my head, what had happened to me to act as if I would go through hell and back for this person?

They smiled at me as if my presence gave them a reason to. And they loved me in every one of it.

"Sorry—" they apologized, noticing how their thumb kept grazing the surface of their sketch, almost as if they were nervous. "You look prettier than... whatever I drew."

They stole one more look of me.

"Terrifyingly bewitching."

It's horrifying knowing I couldn't explain what I felt that day. What I know is—I felt everything.

I've endured endless remarks on my appearance ranging from a number of ratings from those nonsensical people on the internet to every synonym people have thrown my way only to fail to evoke even a flicker of emotion.

Though it seems egotistical, I knew they held one intention: they wanted to impress me. They wanted me to know they were different amongst others who have approached me. They wanted to entice me, as if I could be owned.

Were it not for the arsenal and threats I carried, there would be much more.

Y/n was different. They never had any intentions of being with me, no desire to impress or claim me as theirs. They simply wanted me to know I was. That it was true. I just had never heard it from someone who could mutter two words that felt perfect.

And it's much more terrifying knowing I unexpectedly fell first, even if I deny myself.

I could tell you about the way y/n smiled, how it seemed to threaten the sun, warning it not to shine lest it risk embarrassment in contrast of hers. I could tell you the way their eyes followed their smile, how their life was encapsulated in their drawings, mirroring what they felt.

Yet, when it comes to explaining how I fell for them, words escape me. Even I, a tortured author, struggle to describe.

How must I convey the sensation of my heart pounding in my ears as if it was trying to break me? The ache in my stomach, churning every chance it got, every fiber of my being dreadfully surrendering to them.

But one is for certain: meeting them was like coming home.

My home.

But I couldn't bring myself to realize that—It was antagonizing for me. Humiliating and mortifying knowing one person could make me become a total fool, become someone I've never thought I'd be.

I've spent my whole life after hiding what I felt for them, lest I risk experiencing what I truly loathe: love.

I despised them ever since I met them, loathed them, hated them. But for what for? I ask myself countless of times, I have never gotten an answer.

When they left, I left. Thinking it would be fate that had accidentally brought two people together who held no meaning for eachothers life, that it was a mistake, and I could've been wrong with how I'm feeling.

And when I came back, they were there.

And when I approached them, it felt right.

It was a week after the incident, but no matter how I tried, I still remember how their smile felt around me. Suffering, irritating, lovely. Like I wanted to relieve it, no matter how much time had passed.

Never once did I get their name in the span of meeting them, it was useless to know anyway.

Yet, I find myself returning to the museum every chance I get for God knows what, acting as if I had unfinished business staring at paintings while the staff rambled beside me. They were better off tattooing their explanation in my skull.

I had other places to attend to, other tasks I should've been doing rather than constantly visiting museum in the afternoon as if I have duties and low-paid labor for employment.

I should've been at my apartment days ago, exhausting myself on a half-assed manuscript I would have recurring thoughts of annihilating along with severing Bianca's hands through the phone.

What terrified me is why I was back.

Standing in front of them. My hands tucked deep inside the pockets of another trench coat, looking down on them sitting on one of the blocks of granite surrounding a oddly placed tree in the middle of the hall, drawing whatever there is to draw.

"Hello." I greeted them. They almost looked startled, surprised that I was even talking to them, like I was some vengeful ghost who returned to seek revenge. Though they weren't far off.

They looked up, immediately flipping over their clipboard as they locked eyes with me.

"Oh—" They cleared their throat, "Hi. Hey, hello." They smiled, albeit awkward. But that feeling of dread, or whatever, came back. Stronger than ever, I feared. I almost had half the mind of punching them in the gut and questioning them why they had this effect on me.

"Didn't know you come here often." A chuckle followed their question, or maybe it was a statement, placing their elbows on their lap while they gazed right at me.

I scoffed, murmuring against gritted teeth why did I even approach them in the first place. "And I didn't know you draw me that often."

I look down on the piece of paper, their deliberate and aggressive brush strokes having an effect on the paper, leaving marks upon marks. It was clear that I've been their subject for days on end. Even if I were to absent, I'd still be able to be the pinnacle of their sketches.

It was funny back then, humorous in my mind on how quick they snatched the piece of paper and tried to explain with little to no comprehension that went across their mind.

"Oh, God, no, no! I just—Okay, well, maybe I've been drawing you ever since I saw you, it's creepy now that I mention it... but it's just—it's dumb of me to not draw you, you know?" They were flustered, their mouth opening and closing only for me to receive words that were out of the dictionary.

They sighed, my lips twitched.

"I'd like to ask," My voice trailed off, grimacing even at the thought of having to initiate a conversation with more or less than five words, "What's... your name?"

"Y/N," They nodded, "L/N. Y/N/L/N." They reached out for a handshake only to immediately retract after a brief awkward seconds of staring. Their name sounded familiar.

"Why are you here?"

"Do I need to reason to?"

"I suppose so, no. But I am curious." Even I don't know why I'm still back here.

Y/n sighed, like I was the one getting on their nerves while it was me who battling against whatever fucked-up demon spawned in my stomach that caused me to feel, things.

"Nothing."

I frowned. "You came here because of.... Nothing?"

"Mhm."

"You are drawing strangers you know nothing about because of nothing?"

"Thought I made myself clear on that first word."

"You've made yourself look foolish than any average person."

"Well, you never told me your name. I think that's foolish enough over my case."

It was my turn to sigh.

"Addams." I reluctantly said to them, "Wednesday, Addams."

Then Y/n looked up at me as if I was some sort of otherworldly deity going back down to earth to finish whatever I started. "Wednesday Addams. I think I've heard that name before."

"No. No, you haven't."

If it wasn't horribly obvious, the sole purpose of my visit to Italy was to neglect everything I left behind in New York—especially deadlines— and hoped my eyes would finally work some sense that would let me start anew.

It was shameful of me, passion that dwindled into something less. If I had the chance, I would've tortured myself for even considering abandoning all of my life's work.

Though, I had my reasons. Even if I had threatened my target population and my audience, it still wouldn't be enough.

In short, I had lost motivation to pursue another book.

I felt as if there was something missing, that I couldn't even dare to even blow the collecting dust in the rims of my typewriter.

I begged for my brain to work, to even produce the slightest idea or word that could have some meaning to it. I was ready to write anything that came to mind, even if it was mediocre.

But, instead, my heart responded.

When I met Y/n, I started writing, and we started talking.

Words flowed through, and my time was wasted on Y/n.

My time was wasted, and they were wasted with their significant other.

I always thought I would suffer the thought of having to live an eternal life with none other than myself, that it was inevitable I was going to perish alone in my own woe.

It remained the same. Now, it's just having to live with the fact that my only greatest love had another.

I felt as if I ate a forbidden fruit once I heard they had someone that loved them as much as I denied myself of the same kind, like I plagued myself with hundreds of years of worry and attachment to someone who had eyes on another, a special muse they had.

Only that I would crumble immediately, tempted to take the fruit in my hands, forever stain my lips of something immoral so that I could forever crawl and weep over them.

In my time in Italy, I thought i'd be avoiding acquaintances that would be much more of a burden to me rather than someone useful. Yet there I was, watching Y/n saunter into my life like the revelation they were.

It's safe to say that Y/n turned out to be anything but a burden. They became someone I looked forward to seeing every day, though I hadn't realized they were motivation until then.

"Wends!"

Their awfully cheerful voice pierced through the air of the restaurant, almost granting the attention from other people as if they shared the same horrendous and dreadful nickname as me.

As much as I fantasized about walking out of the restaurant with y/n's half-broken jaw, I couldn't deny whatever was swirling in my head.

Ever since they knew of that wretched nickname unfortunately given to me by none other by that infectious and the ever infuriating ball of sunshine, Enid Sinclair, they've been calling me it as if I don't have a birth name.

It was a month ever since I've known Y/n, and it was a month of them being a constant presence in my life. They shared breakfast with me, lunches, and sometimes dinners that I somehow always and reluctantly accepted.

They became my routine, and it was a fact I'd sooner die with than confess to anyone.

Y/n slowly approached my table that was filled to the brim with countless of books and my oddly placed typewriter, putting their own stuff down on the seat beside them. "You're here early. You ordered something yet?"

It was 12PM. We agreed on 1, and I came at 10.

I scoffed, keeping my eyes on the typewriter. "You, of all people, should know by now that I would much rather sooner paint myself neon than touch anything on this menu."

I hear y/n setting their elbows on the table, resting their face between their hands. "Aw, c'mon Wends, it wouldn't kill you.

"Cyanide won't, but this will." I stopped writing to take one look at them, obviously and oddly, my gaze never and will never work on them. "Take my advice if you're eager to leave this restaurant with a mouth able to eat and speak."

"Ever the happiest person, Wends." They chuckled, sliding a somehow too bright and colorful menu towards them, "I'll order for you."

I stopped writing all together, "Y/n."

"Wednesday." They raised an eyebrow, a smile tugging at her lips. It was over before I was even playing the game. Resistance over their lips felt futile anyway.

"Fine." I sighed, shutting my eyes closed just so that for once I can't have my stomach doing fucking acrobatics at the sight of them. "I will... allow it."

The ever-growing smile that crept up to their face was priceless, I couldn't bring myself to pry my eyes away. Murmuring something along the lines that I was too easy to lure in.

Once a waiter passed our table, Y/n ordered something along the lines of whatever the fuck 'Due Cream Soda Alla Vaniglia e Lampone con Glitter Commestibili' was. I was certain I was going to leave the restaurant with a non-working heart and a stomach turning inside and out.

It took no longer than a minute for Y/n to get a hold one of the numerous books piled infront of me. "Are you studying for something?" They asked, opening it only to close it once they noticed how outdated some of the languages are.

I let a small chuckle pass my lips. "What drives you to such a hypothesis."

They gestured to the books and my typewriter, "By how you're literally surrounded by books and you're on a fucking typewriter instead of a laptop." They pointed out, murmuring another, "Also, who the hell says hypothesis."

"People with functioning frontal lobes." I quipped, letting my fingers write on instinct across the typewriter keys as I listened to Y/n's ramblings. "I'm... writing."

"You're an author?"

"No."

"Then why—"

"Are you a painter? An artist?"

"Well... I—no?"

"Then we both don't know what we're doing."

Y/n fell silent moments after, I couldn't help but miss the sound of their voice. Admitting the mere thought aloud seemed absurd, let alone thinking it in the first place. I would've bashed my head on top of my typewriter if not for my resistance.

"How long will you be staying in Italy?" they eventually asked.

"Two more weeks," I replied. "My flight is already scheduled, I'll be leaving then on."

"Oh."

I wasn't expecting an answer anything other than a hint of happiness that I was eventually leaving their life.

"You are?" They repeated, as if they couldn't believe such a statement even escaped my lips, clear disappointment flickering across their face. "That's not... long."

"I am certainly not saying here indefinitely now that I have something to continue when I've arrived at my destination." I cleared out, doing my very best to escape the impending guilt washing over me.

"I'll miss you, Wednesday."

Their words were sincere. Lovely. It had stopped me from writing all together.

Guilt wasn't a feeling I was familiar with at the time. I rarely come across such a feeble emotion. Now it felt like I've committed something immoral. There were times that I lie for my own convenience, and nothing more than my own reason.

Now it felt like I should've lied for them.

I will forever miss you.

I wrote. I never showed them.

One week had passed and I rarely ever got to see Y/n after. Our encounters became increasingly scarce, and their voice plagued me from days on end.

I clung to the faithless hope I had that they would text me, to reach out, to even show me they're alive and well.

I returned to the museum for every day they were absent in my life, searching for any sign of their presence, but each day ended in disappointment.

Of course, fate is indifferent to my yearning, refusing to grant someone I so desperately sought.

Regret gnawed at me as the days turned into a week, and the week turned into the day before my flight.

"Addams. I've heard from others that you've been writing."

"Who others?"

"I'll spare a name to spare New York a corpse found in their sewage pipes by the time you've, hopefully I assume, returned and not jump off the plane."

"Even if I went off the grid, your nagging would've been in spirit."

"Don't flatter me."

"Don't kill yourself without showing me a video tape in full resolution for me to get through rough weeks. Or maybe take a shotgun and shoot yourself in your garage and let me have the keys to your house."

"Addams."

I sigh. "Yes, the rumors—though I would want that vampires head on a stake—are true. I've been writing."

"What happened to you there? You met someone?"

"How'd you know—No. No, I—I haven't. What makes you come to such a foolish conclusion?"

"Oh my God, someone actually managed Wednesday—I'd rather kill myself before loving anyone—Addams to fall terribly in love with them. Who's the unfortunate soul?"

"I would not be naming them because they do not exist."

"You just stuttered, Wednesday. The only thing making you stumble your words is when you're overdosing on whatever poison you're having for breakfast."

"They're no one."

"How are you such a bad liar when you have countless of bodies hidden across the globe?"

I sigh again, this time, it was out of annoyance. "I'll be hanging up. Goodbye, Barclay. If ever you are considering to kill yourself, call me. I'll be at my most happiest to watch."

"Wait, no, Wednesday! I need progress on your—"

I hung up. It was pointless to answer her calls when I was a mere few step away from boarding a plane. She always had a way of getting under my skin, even from across the damn globe.

But there was one name that would always surface in my thoughts: Y/n.

The mere thought of their name will forever remind me of how my heart wasn't programmed to love.

I reached for my phone, fingers tracing over the cold screen. My mind was tired, blank. The only thing I could ever do is stare at their contact and wish I could've done something better.

I typed out a hesitant message, my thumb hovering over the send button as if it was something that could end my world. Only two thoughts ran to my mind: Would they reply, or would my message be nothing to them?

I almost hit send before I heard footsteps approaching me.

"Y/n?"

I whispered their name, the love I carried for them being surrendered like I'd crawl for them once I reached purgatory.

"What are you doing here?" My eyebrows furrowed. How could they leave me, only to return as I was about to depart? "Why are you here, you disappeared, avoided me, why—"

"He proposed to me."

Oh.

I always thought a near-death experience with a loved one would be the deepest I could feel.

I realized I was wrong.

Now my eyes ached to the sting. Like I was weeping for someone that perished in my heart, I grieve for a living soul that was me. It was pathetic.

I expected them to be overjoyed, over the moon as they would express themselves from time to time.

But when I met their eyes, all I saw were tears streaming down their face.

Oh, how I wished to wipe their worries away.

"Then why are you crying?"

"I don't know if I love him."

"Nonsense... You told me you loved him—"

"Well, maybe I haven't been saying anything true to you!"

"Look, I don't know what I'm doing—I don't know what the hell are we doing. I'm living in some apartment with some guy I don't even know I even love, I'm currently standing here like an idiot to a girl who's just about to leave my life, and you're—"

"You're everything."

It was that moment I realized I was lost in a haze of admiration and love for Y/n.

That I was far too deep in their life that they became mine. I never knew I needed them as much when I told them to leave with me and break up with their significant other.

I never knew I needed their lips onto mine until the moment I pulled them close to me.

Now I ache of them.

"Do you regret it, mother? Being such a fool for someone, you became what you hated most. But you endured it all for them."

Wednesday Addams, seating across the bed from her daughter, Blair Addams. She looked just like you, she'd always wonder.

Wednesday sighed, her hand reaching out to gently touch Blair's. "Do you know the phrase, 'Come ti vidi M’innamorai, E tu sorridi Perchè lo sai?'" she asked softly.

"You know I've never indulged myself in whatever you're reading." She shook her head with a smile. She looked even more like you.

She let her fingers trace patterns on her hand, her gaze wandering else where. "Well, it translates to 'When I first met you I fell in love, and you smiled because you knew," she explained.

"And do you believe in that, mother?"

Wednesday could almost smile. Her daughter was always the curious one, yet she always managed to be privy of her life from them. "I always believed Y/N knew the moment we first laid eyes on each other, I fell in love with them."

"So, yes, my raven." She nodded, "I do."

"I never knew Y/n would make me their title, their theme, their muse," Wednesday pondered, "I always wondered why i fell for them."

"Falling is an accident, gullible, like with people who fail to do basic things. But I am one of those people if not more if I fell for their on accident and continued to do so."

She sat beside Blair, her legs crossed beside her. "I've never told you at the time, but Y/n was a painter. And they wanted nothing more but than to forget about their past. They have never told me as to why, but I believe them.""

"I worried that my love was violence. It was pain, it was suffering. But y/n took care of themselves, they took care of me. There is no one in the world who had loved me more than them, I fear that it would break them, that I am deemed no longer someone who is a part of their story."

"Yet here we are."

Wednesday couldn't see the smile creeping from her daughters lips. But she knew it was there, just like how you looked like before. She will always and forever take pride in it.

She always thought her greatest love could be something of a passion, a talent, a hobby perhaps.

But no one told her it could be a person.

Blair stretched and turned on a light beside her bed, opening a drawer and taking out two of Wednesday's books. "Must they be the reason your books has been off to your prior ones, mother? You've written all your life of gore and mystery. Now it's romance."

"Well, I—"

"Oh, I'm definitely the reason why your mother has been subtly—not-so-subtly, switching to the romance genre."

You peered through the door, your body wrapped up in a cozy boritto style and everything with a train draping it's way to your back like some met-gala dress.

"Oh, mon chéri," Wednesday's face lit up at the sight of you, immediately standing up and pulled you close, her arms enveloping you in a warm embrace.

Her lips met yours in soft kisses, leaving the taste of faint vanilla chapstick lingering on your lips. "Why are you up so late?"

"Well," You grinned against her lips, "I felt our bed getting cold and to my surprise my wife isn't nowhere near me. You know how I can't sleep without you." She pulled away, you whined at the lost of contact, but you couldn't smile more brightly as she led you towards your daughter. "G'evening, Blair."

"Evening, Y/n." She greeted you before you kissed her on the forehead.

You leaned against Wednesday's shoulder, whispering softly, "You're telling her our story again?"

Wednesday would've thought her small chuckle went unnoticed, but you definitely heard it. The stupid smile on your face told everything.

Her hand found yours, giving it a gentle squeeze. "She loves it."

"You love it, mother. Probably more than me." Blair retorted back, evident that she was holding back a laugh.

"I do not! When did I ever—"

"Oh, honey, you know love turns your mother into a girl version of your abuelo.

"Do not ever refer to me as my love drunk father or I will subject you to sleeping on the couch." Wednesday rolled her eyes, pinching the back of your palm. "And please do not shame my work of referring to it as such. I've worked hard day and night yet you proceed call it by such an exasperate—"

You turned your head and pressed a kiss on her cheek, the same spot where her freckles resided, causing her to pause mid-sentence. After atleast ten years of being with her, it always made you so giddy.

"Not even in marriage am I spared by your passive aggressive comments," you teased, your lips curling into a smile as you leaned in closer to her.

You hear your daughter sigh after a brief second, "Addams."

Wednesday almost looked shocked, "My Raven, do not call us by our last—"

"Please exit my room. I'll be going to sleep."

And then, the both of them were shoved off before they could even hug their daughter and kiss her goodnight like they always did.

"I... We were rejected, Y/n." Wednesday exclaimed, like she just got struck with the most heartbreaking news. "She used to love our stories together when she was an infant."

You'd think Wednesday was the non-chalant mom who's strict on her child. But, to your surprise, she was the opposite.

She loved Blair just as much she loved you. Hell, you even considered just maybe, maybe not, disowning your daughter because she gets Wednesday's attention more than you do.

You shrugged, taking her hand and leading her to your upstairs bedroom. "It gets stale once in a whileeeOW!" You winced as Wednesday pinched the back of your palm, again. It was starting to become her love language at this point.

"I'm just kidding!" You reassured her, intertwining your fingers with hers as you walked up the stairs together, pulling the door open for your wife. "She's just in her rebellious teen phase, let it go."

Wednesday rolled her eyes, "Too cliche."

"You used to have one too," you scoffed, settling onto your side of the bed and watching as she laid down on hers.

It was a routine you found yourself often doing, taking in the sight of your beloved as if your life with Wednesday was all a dream. You pinch yourself like almost thrice a day just to really make sure.

"Since when?" Wednesday asked, raising an eyebrow in amusement, quietly shuffling towards you.

You sat up for a moment to undo her braids. You always liked playing with her hair, and that one time she asked of you to undo hers, it became a routine. "Since the beginning of time. And somehow, you never grew out of it."

"You didn't even meet me in my teenage years. I am far from rebellious."

"Yes, baby, but not too far from a death penalty." You chuckled, reaching out to gentle stroke her hair, leaning in to press a soft kiss against her forehead.

"Oh, you flatter me," she replied, a smirk across her lips, but the room was too dim to even notice it.

By now, if you were any ordinary person, Wednesday would've made you disappear entirely. But, the thing is, Wednesday always seemed to look at you as if her life never really started until she found you.

Silence managed to take over the atmosphere, you laid back on the comfortable mattress, feeling Wednesday's head nestled on your arms that were tucked under her hair.

You could almost fall asleep in pure bliss knowing that you've met and loved the girl of your dreams if not for her calling out for you.

"Amore." She whispered.

"Amore?" She whispered again, her voice softer than ever before.

You blinked, momentarily. You swore you just heard an angel. "Yes, amore?"

"Can I... Can you—"

You smiled, almost too knowingly. You knew Wednesday, for someone who's such a romantic soul, she's not too expressive on simple terms like these. "Do you want to be the little spoon?"

She grimaced, you could even hear her grunts of disapproval. "I would highly refrain from calling it that before I jump out of bed and skin you from limb to limb. But... yes, I would like to."

A soft chuckle escaped your lips at her response, suppressing a grin to avoid from literally being murdered as you wrapped your arms around her and pulled her close.

Ten years before, if someone had told you that you're going to be doing this to girl you've met at a museum while trying to escape your past, let alone be happily married to her, you would've told them "How the fuck do you know that and please stay away, I have... a boyfriend. I guess."

But now, it seemed so believable. Wednesday was always so relaxed in your arms, your warmth and hers bringing a sort of comfort for the both of you.

You nuzzled your head against the back of her neck, gently moving strands of her hair aside as you pressed soft kisses against her skin, hoping to kick away her tension from the day.

"Stop pouting, Wends," you murmured softly into her skin as you closed your eyes in pure relief.

You hear her scoff, "I am not doing such a humiliating act."

"Oh but you so are." Your grin widening as you pressed another gentle kiss against her nape, "I can hear it from here."

Wednesday let out a sigh, of annoyance? Maybe. But was it tinged with pure adoration and love? Much so. "You don't hear pouts, Y/n."

"When it comes to you, I do and I can."

Silence washed over. This time, you're worried you've teased her that much, she actually got annoyed with you.

"You're awfully quiet. By this time, you're probably threatening to kill me."

"I'm... Sorry." Wednesday whispered, it has an undying tone of tenderness that you don't often see it being expressed through words from her. Slowly, she shifted her body to face yours.

One thing is for certain: She was still so terrifyingly bewitching if not more. She looked pretty in every way possible, it's hard to even believe, it left you in awe.

You feel her gaze darting on your eyes and then drifting down to your lips, hesitating even. It was ridiculous, in the most adorable way possible there is for an Addams like her.

"May I kiss you?"

"You know you're always welcome. It's pointless to ask."

She was the first to reach out, her hand finding it's way to the curve of your cheek, her touch gentle than ever as she traced the line of your jaw as if she was memorizing every feature of yours.

You cupped her face in reciprocation, leaning in closer to where your lips were just hovering inches away from hers. Then, you closed the space between the both of you.

You pulled away, your eyes meeting hers with a soft smile. It was impossible to think that this woman held your heart in her hands like it was nothing.

"Have I ever told you that you're pretty?" you whispered, letting your hands fall to her waist and pulled her close.

"Ever since you've met me."

“You know, I’m surprised you even remember our first meeting.”

“Oh, how could I ever forget my lover?”

You laughed, a symphony that always gets Wednesday to have a slight tug in her lips. “Stop being so romantic. You are a grown woman with a daughter.”

You continued to stare into her eyes as you drape the rest of the blanket for the both for you. "It's hard to think you're the first one to fall in love and not me."

"It's hard to think of anything when you're here with me, te amo." Wednesday replied, her gaze softening almost immediately.

You sighed. "You know I love you, right?"

Wednesday blinked. "I always will."

You smiled.

And Wednesday smiled back.

------------------------------------------------------------------------------

a/n: this was longer than i thought. i yap too much in stories i fear

#wednesday x reader #wednesday addams x gnreader #wednesday addams x gn!reader #wednesday addams x you #wednesday addams #jenna ortega x reader #jenna ortega x you #jenna ortega x y/n #jenna ortega #jenna marie ortega #jenna ortega x female reader

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mashiraostail · 3 months

Note

Hiiii if i could get a bg3 request I would love to see what you can write for "are you warm enough?" with Halsin?? he's my fave and I bet you would do such a good job with him *chefs kiss* can it be fem reader maybe slightly suggestive plzzz thank you!!

omg my first...bg3...daddy halsin I will try my best!!! I hope you like!!!!

Even Karlach couldn't deny the unmistakable chill in their air this place had. Even since you set up camp your teeth had been chattering and your stomach was restless. It was cold, inhospitable land for miles out of eyeshot, you wondered why your adventures could never seem to bring you to someplace ample and kind.

"I'll try to get a nice big fire going." Karlach assures you, she puts a hand on your shoulder, ever since she got tuned up she was always keen on putting a hand on you. You were happy to let her, she still ran hot even when she was on cool down.

"Thanks Karlach." You hug yourself, trying to save the warmth her hand left behind as she pulled away.

"Someone just needs to cast fireball in the middle of camp." Despite her words Shadowheart didn't look all too cold, maybe she just enjoyed the idea of some more chaos and destruction before the day was out. You chuckle none the less.

You glance around at everyone's tents, yours was feeble, you cursed your affinity for traveling light. Maybe someone would be kind enough to bunk up with you for the night... You had an inkling of a thought about who to bother for the favor.

The fire started quickly, and brought some much valued warmth to the camp, Gale set a few cloths and blankets by the blaze to warm them up for the night. What was once unbearable cold had turned into mild discomfort as dinner preparations began.

You're holding a warm bowl of a stew-y, broth-y amalgamation to your face, letting the steam warm your numbing nose and cheeks when you feel something heavy and warm wrap around you.

"You look freezing." Halsin sits beside you, "not a winter creature I see."

"I'd prefer to hibernate." You gratefully wrap the heavy animal hide around yourself tighter and set your bowl aside, "I was made for warm, warm weather, glistening sunlight and beautiful riverbanks, scantily clad and swimming with the fish."

Halsin laughs at that, you sit shoulder to shoulder with him. You're happy to feel the way his body shakes with the sound, and to siphon the warmth off him.

"That would be a sight for sore eyes." He glances down at you, just barely moving his head to see you. "I can certainly see the appeal. Come here." He opens an arm to you and you don't need to be told twice. You huddle thankfully into his side.

"I never thought my adventures would lead me to such a terrible place." You say it quietly, "even Karlach is cold."

"I have faith that all of this will be sorted soon." Halsin welcomes your legs as they slide over his lap, "I've never met someone as steadfast in their goals as you are. Or as talented to pursue them."

You don't know what to say to that, ever since becoming a party all anyone had done is sing you praises, even the once prickly Astarion had kind words for you. You'd never seen yourself as particularly special, you just did what needed to be done, or so you thought.

"Will you sleep by the fire?" You elect to say nothing about it.

"I think it would be warmer under some cover. You can keep that for the night if it will help. If you'd like to stay by the fire it shouldn't catch." Everybody else had slunk off to bed, you think Gale lined his tent with books to keep the warm air in.

"That's kind, thank you."

"I could hear your teeth chattering across camp." When he laughs softly you only feel a huff of air from his broad chest, "I was cold just looking at you."

"You must be tired." You feel a crushing weight suddenly, you wonder why you had been chosen to be the hero now. The fear of what's to come paired with the sinister cold in the air made your chest tight.

"I'll stay with you for as long as you'll have me." The crackling fire illuminates all the best parts of his face, the cut of his jaw, the wide bridge of his nose, the lines of his smile and his heavy brow. "It's all going to be alright." He must have sensed your worry or the shift in your mood. Your head falls onto his chest.

"We should rest." You take a deep breath and stand up.

Halsin takes one of your hands, still sitting in front of you, "I'm always here, if you need me. For anything." You just nod at him. "However you need me." He insists, "a friend, a listening ear, a lover....I'm a dog at your side. I swear I am. However you'll have me, however you'll need me. Tell me you understand that."

You worry at your lower lip as you look down at him, "I only want you, Halsin. Exactly how you are now." You squeeze his hand, "I'm sorry I soured."

"A good mood is a delicate thing, in a situation like ours." He kisses the back of your hand, the fondness sends a warm wave over your body radiating up your arm to the center of your chest. "you'll come for me, if you need anything at all?"

"Yes I will."

"You aren't just saying that to put me at ease, are you?"His lips are still by your knuckles as he speaks. He looks up at you with earnest and kind eyes. These quite, kind nights at camp carried you through hostile and dangerous days...you were glad to have him. So glad you could hardly speak

"No, never." He smiles at that, perhaps not convinced, but content. He lets you go.

You toss an turn for what feels like hours, the cold made the night drag on terribly. You wonder if much time had passed at all, you're grateful for the blanket but still discontent. You get up and trek across camp, the low light of the fire guiding your way. When you reach Halsin's tent you're almost...nervous to go inside. It was nothing you hadn't done before. Though you always went together, now you were alone, and uninvited disturbance. The cold spurred you on and you slowly roll the entrance open and poke inside.

The slowly dying fire illuminated the inside of his tent, and him where he laid on his back.

"Halsin." You whisper. "Halsin."

"Are you alight?" He sits up, "what do you need?"

"I...well I was hoping...since..." You feel embarassed now, coming to ask to sleep in his bed like a child. That's when he notices your blanket, still wrapped aorund you.

"Would you like to spend the night here, with me? You're cold aren't you?"

"Freezing." You nod and he waves you inside, fastening the tent's closure behind you. He wrestles through a bag and produces another blanket.

"Come to me." He's made ample room for you so you go, easily and guiltless now. "I feel cruel." He's looking at you intently when he speaks.

"Why?"

"I think you're beautiful in the cold too, maybe just as beautiful as you would be swimming in that river. You're glowing." He holds a hand out and of course you lean in to him. His voice is low, but welcoming and warm, "come right to me."

His hands on your face are warm, his lips are warm, for the first time since setting camp you feel warm. Really genuinely warm, from the inside out.

"Are you warm enough?" You were under a heavy hide blanket with him, and still shrouded in the one you'd worn on your hike over to his tent.

"Yes..I do feel better." You nod, "thank you for taking care of me."

"I wish you'd asked sooner." His hand brushes back your hair, and covers on of your numbed ears.

"I didn't want to be too much of a bother. You helped me out so much with this blanket already."

"Please." His knuckles drag over your jaw and down your neck, "i've been kinder to you than handing off a spare blanket. You've given more to me than a simple companion during my dinner. I'd be thrilled to have you here, every night. Warming in the palms of my hands, for me." His lips are soft on your temple.

The heat of embarrassment filled your face and neck, thought even this warmth you were thankful for. You were thankful still as soft kisses trailed from your temple and down your neck, and warm hands slid up and over your belly to cup your waist and glide gently up your back. Every touch and kiss had a warmth to it, the kind of warm buzz you get from your first few drinks, or after a hearty meal. Thankful sighs and quiet moans hit your skin as warm puffs of air, all happily contained under the warmth of your blankets.

The warmth of it lingered after it all too, his hands covered your gently heaving chest, trapping it inside you. You feel so warm that it's an easy feat to doze off with him there, you feel his nose in your hair, taking heavy, grateful breaths of you. As you slide into what should be an easy night of sleep you nestle back into him, content to know he'd stay there as long as you wanted him to.

#halsin x reader #bauldrs gate 3 #bauldrs gate 3 x reader #halsin

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purgatory-if · 6 months

Text

demo (tba) | faq | masterpost (you are here.) | art cred @aykaypee

You’re in danger, and every fiber of you knows it.

You’re sure, by now, that no matter what you do you won’t be able to stop it. Maybe that’s a good thing.

...This is the end.

You wish you had something that would remember you.

... YOUR life is a mystery to you when you wake up in the sunny fields of Purgatory. Apparently death isn't supposed to be a full memory wipe to the soul, but that's no problem, right? There's usually some sort of record kept of this kind of thing. If not for special cases like yours, then at the very least for organizational purposes. You're told all of that, assured that nothing is wrong and that this jsut 'happens' sometimes up until the moment they look for yur death and find nothing to speak of. Nothing of your life, either, just to make a bad time even worse.

Without knowing anything like this, it's safe to say that it'll be impossible to pass on. The underworld isn't built for fringe cases like you and even if it was, not even knowing who you were is disconcerting at best and cause for crisis at worst.

So alright. It shouldn't be too hard to find out how one person died, right? Detectives and story characters do it all the time- and now you have all the time in the world.

You should, anyways.

... FEATURES include:

play as a seriously unlucky pc whose cause of death depends on which route you decide to pursue

be whoever you want to be! standard for ifs nowadays; things such as pronouns, general appearance, personality all that jazz

8 romance options (mostly fem/non-binary, 1 option you can choose the gender of) and the ability to play as aro and/or ace

at least 4 poly romance routes!

love me some good vanity stats! vanity stats

get recruited (read: forced) into a 9-5 where time isn't real

beat up time

really symbolic mythology! i could write a goddamn essay on these fuckers

... PURGATORY is recommended for players over the age of 15, though I’m not going to police what you do on the internet. The game will contain major character death and death of all kinds, what is probably sacrilege, memory loss, fantasy violence, potentially sexually suggestive scenes and dialogue (hi ama.), morally dubious behaviour, and more. In-depth content warnings for each chapter and specific routes will be released at a later date.

... 'MAIN' CHARACTERS

THE DIVINE.

Angel (prns selectable) / Witty, charismatic, more than a little bloodthirsty, there's a certain volatility about someone who is Fate embodied. While they take their time on the many, many field missions necessary for stability in the multiverse or whatever very seriously, they'll put their restless passion into anything if it catches their eye for long enough.

Achlys (they/them) / Death itself, stoic and sharp and more than a little intimidating, it's hard not to let their mere presence get under your skin. While it would be nice to say that's not an intentional effect, the only unintentional thing about them is the fact that they're down here, of all places. They seem to be making the best of it.

Esme (they/them) / An angel in what is certainly an analogy for hell, classic, isn't it? They're little more than a shambling mess in a skirt if we're being honest, oh so scared of any shadow that moves in the corner of their vision. They truly do wear their heart on their sleeve, which seems to be an invitation for some to try and stop its frantic beat.

Amaterasu (she/they) / Don't let her meet your parents, is the only advice I'd give, because she'd be gunning for at least a threesome by the time starters are served. Unflinchingly forward and seductive, they're horribly charming in the most impermanant of ways. There's nothing she'll shy away from trying sooner or later, it seems, in or out of the bedroom.

THE MORTALS.

Viviana Alatorre (she/her) / Businesslike. Some people really don't change when they die, and going to this office just means you see the sun less on your coimmute. She doesn't appear to be dead, or alive, something in the middle. Out of everyone here, she's probably the most terrifying. Even more than the death god, probably because she's actively working towards terror.

Ailbhe Kahinu (she/it) / There's nothing that troubles Ailbhe, and it wouldn't be concerning if she was... y'know, dead. In the face of certain terror, it faces things with a shrug and a sigh. At least she's good-natured about this whole thing, being dragged down here by both her girlfriend (Vivi) and her sister (Rahley). The prices here are better than aboveground, anyways.

Rahley Kahinu (she/her) / Rahley's been compared to a robot more than one time, and while the comparison probably wasn't in good faith that doesn't mean it was necessarily wrong. She's intensely focused on her work, and her skill in that department seems to have drained her ability in things like basic conversation and empathy. So it goes.

M Blankenship (prns selectable) / Previously called 'Hit 'N Run' in the world of roller derby, the violent nickname seems odd on someone as cheerful as M. They act as a sort of tour guide for souls entering the Underworld proper instead of hanging around Purgatory, and it's hard to say their easy extroversion makes them anything worse than great at their job.

THE CONSTANTS.

Stratos C. Lusse (he/him) / The eternal guide to Purgatory for souls lost, souls found and all who are inbetween. He seems to have been here the longest--minus all of the deities, of course.

Octavia Hardin (she/her) / The part-time guide to Purgatory. She seems more likely to throw your soul into damnation if you cross her or anybody she cares about. Stay on her good side!

Salem Astor (she/her) / She would be a romance option if I had the energy to code in a shop feature. But I don't. So she runs free through the city.

Abbadon (prns selectable) / Personification of the past. If anyone can help you figure out what the hell happened to you, then they should be the one to go to. Sometime in the next 5 centuries would be ideal.

Maliel (prns selectable) / Personification of the future. Again, probably someone who can find out in a second what you'll know when you figure out this mystery, if you're able to find them at a good time. The woes of being a primordial deity.

...and more! Probably. Co-workers, pirates, other deities but this is running long.

#if: intro #interactive fiction #if game #if wip #choice of games #interactive game #twine game #twine if #interactive novel #twine wip #purgatory if #masterpost

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ghostfanwriter · 9 months

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💖🧰 Dirty hands pt 3 🧰💖

Part one Part two

💖 Pairing: Dbf!Joel Miller x Virgin!Fem!Reader

🧰 Synopsis: Joel keeps finding reasons to stay in Lincoln. And you worry about the day he leaves, but he makes sure to show you how special this whole thing also is for him.

💖 Features: 🔞, fluffy and domestic Joel, Joel fixing things for her, masturbation (m and f), soft — so soft — (kinda dom) Joel, praise, pet names, quick cumplay (for poor Joel's desperation), sprinkles of angst here and there (I hurt my own feelings sometimes).

🧰 Word count: 9.5k. I'm so no sorry about this.

💖 About this: It took me forever to find this story, but I'm so, so glad it came out how it did. This series is gonna be a bit longer than I planned, but I have some real cool ideias for the next parts. Hope you're in with me ❤️

🧰 Author's note: Life really got in the way of this series, besties, but I came out alive. I'm really happy so many of you are as engaged with this story as I am, I love them so much. I just want a domestic, fluffy, soft Joel for myself 😩🤧

Good reading, besties 🩷🫶🏻

'You're always up with the sun.'

Bill's sentence made Joel sleep with his curtains open that night. Even with all the reasons why his mind told him he shouldn't pursue you, even with the potential death trap he was jumping into.

He couldn't not think about you. He couldn't not want to be with you.

He couldn't treat you like he felt he needed to. Couldn't dismiss you or break your heart. He had to make this experience as good as he could for you. It was only fair.

He would feel horrible if you never wanted to meet anyone else ever again because an old man made you cry.

So even with all the reasons he had to just forget about your and leave Lincoln the next day, he chose to keep his curtains open instead. To let the sun wake him up, so he could see you first thing in the morning.

He remembered the day he arrived, when Bill was showing him his bedroom and he saw you hugging Frank on your bed. Your grumpy and sleepy face, your messy hair, your clothes.

It made him smile again, and this time he allowed himself to. He let the feeling that was blooming inside his chest to make its point, to show him that there was an option outside of the QZ. That maybe he could stay.

Could stay with you.

Sure, making Bill lower his guard shouldn't be easy. But he could work on that; show him that he didn't want anything wrong or inappropriate with you.

That he wanted to take care of you like you deserve. Care for you like you're his.

Have you as his.

As the sunlight filled his room, he woke up and washed his face, staring at his own reflection in the mirror, last night memories floating around his mind.

He could almost feel you again, your warmth against his chest, as your body contorted and you made such pretty sounds for him. Then your soft hands stroking him, curiously roaming over his stomach and chest, how good it felt to be so close to someone again.

Not that him and Tess had ever stoped to have sex. They still did it, but not as a way to share anything, not to feel anything. Rather as a way to dismiss the bad feelings they had. They just dumped all the negativity of their lives into one another.

With you he didn't want to release anything. He wanted to gather everything he could from you, to make you feel as good as he could, without thinking about what he'd get from it.

He wanted to know you were happy, satisfied, taken care of.

He shook the thoughts as he felt them placing roots all over his heart, knowing that when the day arrived and he had to leave Lincoln, you'd be the main pebble on his shoe.

Halfway down the stairs he could already smell breakfast being prepared. He had peeked in your room, and, having not found you, he knew you'd probably be the one in the kitchen.

And he was right. As he gets close to the door, he can hear you humming one of the songs you played on the piano the previous night.

The image of himself playing a guitar while you played the piano flashed in his mind again, making his eyes soften as he looks at you.

You're wearing yet another summer dress. One even prettier than the one from the day he arrived.

He swears you look prettier everyday.

You turn around, jumping when you see him watching you from the door frame.

"Oh — God." You gasp with a laugh, almost dropping the pan in your hand.

"Morning." He says, laughing.

"Morning... Joel." You say, your voice small. Suddenly, you can feel your cheeks warm up, and it feels like all the blood in your veins came to them.

You stare at him, remembering the night before. How he touched you — or how he made you touch yourself. How you touched him, how almost ethereal the whole experience felt.

Part of you was afraid to bring it up and learn it was all a dream.

All of you was embarrassed, awkwardly standing with a pan in your hand, staring at him, not knowing how to interact with him after the night before.

You take a sharp breath in when he rushes towards you, getting confused when he walks past you, turning around to find him quickly removing a pan out of the stove.

You put the pan in your hand down at the table and run to the one in his hand, your scrambled eggs burnt at the bottom.

"At least there's more texture to them now." He says with a laugh, and you look up at him, an embarrassed smile on your face. "Are you alright?" He asks.

"Yeah, I am. Just... Gonna have to switch pans now, and what's gonna be left of them isn't going to be enough for all of us, and this is gonna be horrible to wash, and—" Your rambling is cut by his soft and low whisper.

"Baby." He calls, and you look up, finding his eyes as soft as ever. "Not talking about the eggs." He says while staring into your eyes. "How are you feeling?"

"Oh, I'm... Good. Different, in a way. I mean, I don't know how to talk to you, or not make this super awkward." You mutter.

"It's not awkward. Are you... Okay with what happened, or—"

"No, no. I'm fine! It's not like that, no. I... I loved it. I just... I just don't know how to... I don't know it just feels weird." You stutter, feeling like you're embarrassing yourself.

"A good weird, then?" He laughs.

"Yes, a good weird." You agree. "What about you?"

"Long time since I've felt this good, baby. Was just worried about you."

"No, I'm good. No need to worry." You say shyly. "Well, expect my breakfast is ruined." You laugh, and he stares you for a second.

"Ever heard of Chef Boyardee?"

"No." You respond laughing.

"Well, he's gonna save your breakfast. Let me just grab it real quick." He says, putting the pan down and rushing upstairs.

...

He comes back after a minute, two cans in his hands.

"I was afraid Boyardee was your alter ego." You say, reading the name on the can.

"I'd never dare to compare." He says, bringing his hand to his chest in a fake humble gesture.

He opens the cans, and you two start cooking together. He insists to wash the burnt pan, as long as you watch chef Boyardee up close as it heats up in the stove while you make some orange juice.

Bill stops on his tracks when he sees you two in the kitchen. Cooking, making juice, brewing coffee, talking and laughing.

He smiles seeing how happy you are, seeing maybe he didn't made the wrong decision when he let Joel in his house.

"Our baby's growing up. Weird to think about that, right? It was never a thought before." Frank whispers from behind him, hugging him and snuggling his chin on Bill's shoulder.

"She is my baby. And it ain't Joel that's gonna change that." He replies, caressing Frank's forearm.

"She's not ours, Bill. Maybe the day's coming when we need to let her go, make her life." He says.

"Well, she can make her life inside these fences. Definitely not with Jo—" His rant cut by your short lived scream.

"It's not burning!" You defend yourself.

"Not the ravioli!" Joel fake cries, laughing as you desperately stir the ravioli in the pan, smoke coming out of the sauce, almost catching on your face.

Bill walks into the kitchen, his always heavy steps even heavier to announce his presence.

"What happened?" He asks, his eyes wide when he sees you close to the smoke.

"Oh, daddy... Joel's a disaster in the kitchen." You laugh.

"I was just washing the pan, you were supposed to watch the stove!" Joel defends himself, laughing, lifting the pan to show it to you. "If you didn't burn this one we wouldn't be going through all this right now."

You've never seen Joel laughing like this, and happiness looked good on him. You liked how his nose scrunched when he laughed and how tiny his eyes got.

He honestly couldn't remember the last time he allowed himself to goof around, make jokes and just have fun.

"It's your fault! I never want you in the kitchen with me again." You say.

"Oh, you're finishing this?" He mentions the pan in his hand.

"No no no, that was your fault. You clean it." You say, turning back to your dad. "Sorry, daddy. Good morning, are you okay?" You ask, going to Bill and wrapping him in a tight hug that he's eager to correspond.

"Morning, my love." He whispers on top of your head as he squeezes you, his hand holding the back of your head protectively. His suspicious stare watching Joel.

"We're having canned ravioli for breakfast?" Frank asks laughing, slightly grossed out.

"Chef Boyardee." Joel playfully corrects him.

"We were gonna have scrambled eggs, but Joel burned them." You say and Joel laughs in defeat, shooting you a playful look. "So yeah, canned ravioli. Promise I'll cook us something nicer for lunch." You say, hugging Frank and kissing his cheek. "Morning, dad."

...

Your dads sit across from one another. You're across from Joel, your right foot is between his feet and he's running his boots lazily up and down your ankles. You can't stop smiling because of it.

"So, Joel. I was thinking we could start with the east side and work towards the gates?" Bill asks, breaking the comfortable silence — only broken before to compliment Chef Boyardee — that was set while you all ate.

"Sure. Just have some other thing l have to work on before the fence, if that's okay? We're still gonna have plenty of sunlight when I'm done. Should be quick." He says while still chewing, stuffing back his mouth right after he's finished.

"What other thing?" Bill asks, not remembering asking Joel to fix anything else that day.

"She told me about these broken doors on her bathroom cabinet. Said they're loud and don't close properly." He says, looking at you, his feet moving higher on your calves, soothing you.

"Baby, didn't I tell you I'd fix your cabinet?" Bill asks, angry to imagine Joel inside your bathroom, even angrier to imagine you going after someone else for help.

"You did. But you never fixed it. So I asked Joel and he said it should be quick." You shrug, playing along with Joel, his legs caressing yours in a reassuring way.

You didn't even know Joel was gonna fix something in your bathroom, you never told him anything about your cabinets.

Bill grunts, and Frank tries to soothe him with a sympathetic look.

You were the most important thing he had, and he didn't like the idea of you not needing him anymore.

"So, love, your dad and I were wondering, what do you think of a bonfire?" Frank asks, trying to dismiss the topic, and you smile.

"A bonfire?" You ask excited, your gaze going from Frank to Bill, and you catch a glimpse of Joel's smile on your way.

"Well, I have some spare wood, and we're gathering a bunch of things we don't need with all the fixings we're doing." Bill explains, looking at Joel, who nods. "Your dad just wanted to call it a bonfire." Bill finishes, looking at Frank, a fake annoyance in his face while he smiles at his husband.

"And you loved my idea, didn't you, honey?" Frank asks, trying to win his case.

"Oh, it sounds so fun." You giggle, and you can feel Joel squeezing your calves softly.

"A bonfire!" Frank says triumphantly. Eating another spoonful of ravioli. "This is actually really good, Joel!"

"Told you." Joel said laughing.

As soon as you're done eating Frank offers to wash the dishes and you and Joel go upstairs, Bill watching you both with concerned eyes.

...

"When did you see the doors were broken?" You ask when he walks in your room with a chest of tools, following him into your bathroom.

"When, baby?" He asks with a laugh, raising one eyebrow. Like you didn't know he was in your bathroom the night before. Like you don't remember having him in your arms, hoping that one day he'd be yours.

"No, I know when. I just mean exactly when. I never told you about it." You say, sitting on top of your toilet to watch him work.

"When I was looking for a product to clean the sink. This door made a terrible sound." He explains.

You watch as he kneels on the floor and starts unscrewing the door, cleaning and oiling its parts before screwing them back together.

"So, how's life in the QZ?" You ask when he starts working.

"Not much about it, nothing you're missing out on, for sure."

"Then why are you still living there?" You ask and he looks up at you, the crease between his eyebrows and the way his eyes wander around showing you he doesn't have a clear answer for that question.

"Not that simple, baby." He scrunches his nose. "Told your dad, we've got things there that you don't have here. Things we — grunts — need."

You smile seeing his face contort as he has to use more force to unscrew a particularly rusty part. You notice his arms flexing under his denim shirt, how strong his hands look, making his tools seem small in them. How he grunts when he makes a final effort to remove the screw.

Your heartbeat speeds up before you can stop it, and you only notice that he's staring at you when you hear him chuckle.

"And do they just give you those things? My dads say they used to have to work to gain money, and they'd trade money for things they wanted." You ask, trying to dismiss the blood burning your cheeks.

"Wasn't Frank in a QZ for a long time?" He asks.

"He was. But he doesn't like talking about it. Says I don't need to know about it." You respond. Even though Frank was way more laid back than Bill, he also had his ways to guard you from things he thought he needed to. "But I want to know about it." You add, seeing Joel's reluctancy in keep telling you about it.

"We also work there, not for money, but it's still a trade system. We can get food, medicine, parts, clothes. Whatever we need."

"Do you have nice clothes there?" You ask with more excitement than you wished to. You know it's futile, but you sometimes wish you had different clothes to wear. He chuckles before answering.

"I mean..." He mentions himself, and you turn your head.

"I think you look good." You say honestly and he smiles.

"Your clothes are much prettier than the ones there, baby. You're not missing out."

"You like my clothes?" You ask, your voice small.

"Love them. Never saw no one dress like you since this whole thing started." He whispers, sitting back on his heels and watching you with adoring eyes.

You look out the bathroom door, your bedroom door closed. No noise outside.

You bend down, kissing him softly on the lips. His left hand caresses the nape of your neck as he deepens the kiss.

"Wanna help me choose my dress for the bonfire?" You suggest when you break the kiss.

"My honor." He whispers over your lips, giving them a peck and letting you go.

...

You come back inside the bathroom with two dresses, both on their hangers.

"Okay, so we'll go by elimination. What do you think of these?" You ask, holding each dress in a hand. He's kneeled on the floor, fixing the cabinet, but he turns his torso, carefully analyzing the dresses over his shoulder.

"Blue one." He says.

"Yeah. This one's a bit too summery, too sunny." You agree, and he raises his eyebrows, nodding and humming before turning back to the cabinet.

"And what kind of jobs you do there?" You ask Joel while going back to your closet, picking the next option.

"All kinds you don't wanna know about, trust me. There's nothing about that place that's worth knowing, nothing good except those walls." He says.

You come back with the winner dress and another option, sitting on your bathtub's edge.

"Well, not when you're in it. Then there's at least one good thing." You say low with a smile, poking him with your foot, and you can see the shy smile that flashes in his face as he quickly squeezes your calves.

"Tess and I we... Leave the QZ from time to time, which you're not supposed to do, to look for things we can trade for other things. Not always for nice things, but we can always trade them again for something better."

"You're smugglers." Frank says out thin air, startling you. "Which isn't bad, I mean, the best stuff I had at the QZ came from smugglers." He adds seeing Joel's worried expression. "Tess told me about it. Told me about the kind of things you two give to guards. Not anything we need here, but maybe you'd know where to find some things for us?" He asks.

"Yeah, sure. Depending on what it is, it shouldn't be hard to find." Joel says.

"Oh! We were talking about having more fruits, right, dad? Strawberries, watermelons. Think you could find some, Joel?"

"Would have to look around, but it's not impossible." He says, making a mental note of finding you those as soon as he has the chance.

The thought of leaving Lincoln to look for things you want plays in the back of his mind, the scenario making him smile softly while looking at you.

"Speaking of Tess..." Frank interrupts his daydreams. "...she's on the radio. Wants to talk to you, seems important. She asked you to bring a pen and paper with you." He finally says what he came in to say.

Joel looks at you, a deep crease between his eyebrows, despite his overall relaxed expression. If you're really starting to know him, the crease means he's worried.

He gets up with a muted grunt.

"Oh, Joel! Which one?" You ask before he leaves.

He looks back and forth between the dresses, pressing his lips, trying to picture you in both of them. He likes how tight on top the blue one looks like, how flowy it looks on the legs.

"Blue again." He answers with a smile. "Be right back." He says directly to you before turning around, walking out the bathroom and thanking your dad for calling him.

Frank sits by your side, carefully walking around Joel's tools.

"What do you think of the blue one?" You ask him, caressing the dress.

"Hm, thought you wouldn't want my opinion." He says almost bitterly, despite his playful smile.

"Why? You always help me choose my dresses." You say, furrowing your eyebrows, his expression softening.

Deep down he felt the same as Bill.

You always needed them, always looked for them for guidance, advice, help, comfort, love. It hurt to think of you not needing them anymore, of losing you.

"Nothing." He says quietly.

"Are you upset because I asked for Joel's opinion?" You ask, and he realizes just how silly the feeling is. You're just picking a dress.

"Well I... Argh, I am, love. Can't lie to you." He hugs your side, squeezing your head on his chest playfully. "You don't need my help anymore, you're not my baby anymore." He says dramatically, making you laugh.

"Oh, no! I don't love you anymore, dude. Let go of me!" You playfully say, acting like you're trying to get away from him but ultimately snuggling even closer to his chest.

"I love you. I'll always asks for your opinions on my dresses." You laugh.

"Well, to be fair. The blue one is the prettiest between those two." He admits. "How are things between the two of you?"

"Great. He's so nice." You say with a silly smile.

"Can tell you look happier. And so does he. Never seen him laugh like I saw this morning." He says.

You remember his face when he arrived. Serious and suspicious of everything about the town. How you only saw him smile three times that day; when you two met, when you said you were going to bed and when he saw you with Frank.

But as soon as you think about that day your chest tightens.

Tess.

She came with him. For some reason didn't stay. Was she looking for something while he was there, or did she return to the QZ? Was she coming over? She said she and Joel were just friends, but what if they weren't?

You whimper softly, your stomach hurting out of a sudden.

"You okay, love?" Frank asks, pulling away to look at your face.

"Yeah, just... Do you know what Tess wants with Joel?"

"She didn't say, love. Maybe she just wants to know why he didn't go back to the QZ yet."

"Wasn't he going to stay here for a while? To help you and dad?" You ask, confused.

"Well, yes. But she didn't know that. He was supposed to leave yesterday." He said, caressing your arm with his thumb. "But he kept finding reasons to stick around. New things that need fixing, the car's weird noise, now the whole fence. I wonder what — or who — made him want to stay." He squeezes your arm and you smile shyly.

"But why does she care?" You ask, an unexpected annoyance in your voice.

"Darling... Joel and Tess they... They used to be a couple." He says, careful, like he could see his words stabbing you. "She cares about him. She's worried, she doesn't know us, maybe something could've happened to him."

"Do you think he cares about her too?" You know it's a stupid question. Of course he does. It's Joel.

But it hurts to imagine him doing to her the same he did to you. Sharing the same.

Frank gives you a sympathetic look, his eyes softening and his lips falling open, like he's thinking of what to tell you.

"Do you think I'm silly, dad? Do you think he's just gonna leave and never come back?" You ask, thinking about what him and Tess must be talking about.

"I don't know, love. I heard him and dad talk about some of the houses in here." He sighs.

Should he even be telling you that?

'Is he thinking about staying?' You ask yourself, your puppy eyes making Frank kiss your forehead lovingly.

"Only he can tell you that, my dove."

Sometimes you think your dad can read your mind.

You think about what Joel told you.

'We've got things there that you don't have here.'

Could he ever not live in the QZ? Would he ever want that?

"But can I give you an advice?" He asks softly and you nod. You're taking any help you can. "Slow down a bit. Don't think too ahead, don't nourish any hopes or fears about what's gonna happen." He says, looking deeply into your eyes. "Joel has his life outside, you can't forget that. I really, really, my love, hope you don't come out hurt of all of this. And the only way for it not to happen is you being careful. Don't engage in feelings he hasn't displayed to you."

"Don't create expectations then?" You ask, trying to make sense of his words.

"Yes, sweetheart. Feel your feelings, but don't ever run over them. Don't expect what you want to happen to turn out exactly how you wish." He adds. "Like about him staying. Don't expect it but also don't suffer thinking it's impossible before he tells you exactly what he's thinking. Don't put yourself through unnecessary pain."

Before you can say anything else Joel walks back in, a mix of annoyance and worry contorting his face, that softens instantly as his eyes find you.

"Blue one?" He asks with a silly smile and you nod, an even sillier one in your face.

"Blue one."

...

It's hard to follow your dad's advice.

Because it hurts too much to think of not seeing him anymore.

And that's exactly what you do for the rest of the day.

You watch him fix the fences with your dads while you hurt your own feelings, thinking about him leaving, about him with Tess, about him doing to her what he did to you. What you only did with him.

It hurts to think maybe he doesn't care about you the same way you care about him. Because you can't stop thinking about him. You're more attached than you ever thought you'd be to anyone besides your parents.

It hurts to think about him leaving you...

...forgetting about you.

He noticed how quiet you were during dinner — it was quite hard not to. And he found strange just how much he missed you, even though you were right in front of him.

How you didn't make any silly jokes or laughed at the ones your dads made. How you didn't give him your leg when he reached for it under the table, like he did during breakfast. How you wouldn't catch his gaze when he looked at you.

He knew something was wrong, but he couldn't put his finger in exactly what happened.

After dinner you kissed your dads goodnight and went straight to bed, no piano, no songs, no anything, despite their protests.

Maybe something happened while he was fixing the fences with Bill. He hadn't seen you since he left your bathroom.

"Is something wrong with her?" He asks your dads as soon as you go upstairs. They both shrug, and Bill can't help but wonder... Why does he even care?

You brush your teeth and lie on your bed, throwing a pitty party for yourself, feeling silly for engaging in such unrealistic expectations.

Joel had his life in the QZ...

...with Tess.

He wouldn't just give everything up for you, to stay in Lincoln.

It's hard to follow what Frank told you, to not feel bad, to ignore the discomfort in your stomach everytime you thought about Joel.

You quiet your thoughts when he opens your bedroom door — that you never seem to lock anymore —, finding you laying on your bed, almost curled in a ball, your back facing the door. Trying to keep your eyes dry.

He walks in carefully to not startle you, going around the bed to see if you're awake.

Your eyes start watering as soon as you see him.

"Hey, baby." He says softly, squatting next to you, keeping his distance. "What happened?" He didn't need you to say you weren't okay, he already knew that. He just needed to know what got you like that.

You don't say anything, aware that any words you said would make you cry.

"Can I sit with you?" He whispers, still not touching you.

You nod, moving your hips back to give him room to sit. You knew that no matter how much you tried to stay away, you'd feel him pulling you close, like there's a magnetic field between you two.

He sits down in front of your stomach and you pull your thighs closer to his back, keeping him close to you.

He moves his hand slowly, giving you time to push him away, gently touching your hair, pulling it behind your ear.

"Do you wanna talk?" He asks, his voice softer than ever.

"Do you?"

"I want to do whatever you want, baby." He whispers, caressing your hair, almost making you sleepy.

"I want you to stay with me."

"I can stay until you fall asleep. But I can't sleep here with you." He responds.

Not the stay you were thinking about. But it works for now, and you're glad he didn't pick up on it.

"Can you lie with me?" You ask shyly.

You weren't mad at him. You were just afraid to get too attached — even more than you already were, and to suffer too much when he left.

But you can't deny yourself what you're craving.

"Anything you want, baby." He leans down to press a kiss on your temple, bringing his hand to your hips, squeezing you gently and turning you around, your back facing him.

"Is this okay?" He asks, laying down sideways behind you, staying away and not touching you.

"Uhum."

He supports himself on his elbow and strokes your hair gently.

"Are you cold?" He asks, touching your cold arm, and you nod. He sits up and grabs your blanket by the end of your bed, covering you with it and supporting himself back on his elbow.

He's far from you, and you scoot back closer to him, pulling the blanket that's pooling between you two over him.

"Wearing my shoes, baby." He says, afraid of getting your blanket dirty. He kicks his boots away and and moves his body closer to yours.

Dropping his head on the pillow behind you, he slides his left arm underneath your head, letting you use it as a pillow. He hugs you and curl his legs, curling yours along. Fully spooning you.

In a way it reminded you of when you were a child and your dads would let you sleep in between them during a thunderstorm. How the same feeling of calm and safety takes over you.

You do your best to snuggle into him and find comfort in the new position, eventually relaxing into his arms as his right hand comes underneath your face, cupping your left cheek, pillowing it. You snuggle your face on his hand, kissing his palm gently.

You indulge in the intimacy you two are sharing. In how warm you got because of him, how his calloused hand feels under your cheek, how your bodies seem to fit in perfectly within one another.

How you can subtly feel his heartbeat against your back, how you try to match your breathing with his, enjoying the way his chest raises and falls behind you. How his smell invades your nose, how his hot breath sends chills down your spine, how his strong arms hold you so tight.

You stay tangled for a while before you gather the courage to talk to him.

"Joel?" You ask gently and he hums in response. "Can I ask you something... about Tess?" You almost whisper, afraid of ruining everything.

"Sure, baby. What about her?" He responds, his thumb caressing the skin under your eye.

"Are you two dating?" You ask but regret instantly as you feel him chuckle behind you.

He gives your face a light squeeze before turning it for you to look at him. You feel vulnerable with him being so overpowering, moving you so effortlessly, his body engulfing yours so nicely...

"Is it because she called me earlier?" He asks, a smile on his face as he brings you back to reality. You only nod, not sustaining his gaze anymore. "Do you think I'd be here with you if we were together? Think I'd do this to her? To you? Lie to you like that?"

"I don't know." You whisper, hating how weak your voice sounds, barely making its way out of your mouth.

"Baby, Tess and I we... We were a couple, haven't been for a long while now." He explains, sincerity spread all over his face.

"Did you do to her what we did last night?" You ask, your stomach turning to imagine him doing that to someone else.

Realistically, you knew he had. But it still hurt to think about it.

"No, baby. Not what we did yesterday. That I never did to nobody." He answers and you look away from his soft eyes. "I'm not lying." He squeezes your cheek gently, making you look back at him. "Yesterday it was all about you, making you feel good. And sex with Tess was about releasing frustrations, sadness, anger. Distracting myself." He explains. "I'd never dump those negative feelings on you. I wanna make you feel good, wanna see and hear you feel good. I loved doing it, but it wasn't about me. It was all about you." He says softly, his eyes wandering from your eyes to your lips.

It feels like you're melting in his arms. His words disarming you entirely, making you want to feel him again. To share that again.

"Can you kiss me?" You ask, hope coating your request.

"Anything you want, angel." He whispers as he lowers himself, gently connecting his lips to yours.

The tingling of his beard on your face makes you lean in further onto him, pulling him lower on top of you as you lie back down.

You open your mouth, kissing his lower lip, making him deepen the kiss, rolling his tongue around yours, and gently grabbing a fistful of your hair.

His tongue tangling with yours make your insides burn with need, and your hips instinctively roll against his crotch, making you moan when you feel his still soft cock inside his pants. His hand comes from your hair to your waist, holding you still.

"Baby." His voice sound deep and aroused as he breaks the kiss, softly panting as he talks to you. "We don't have to do anything. We can go slow, slower than we're going. I'd love to just lie down with you tonight." He stares softly at you, his thumb caressing your belly.

"I want you, Joel. Want to feel you before you leave." You say, cursing at yourself when you realize what you've just said.

"Not going anywhere, baby." He promises, furrowing his brows before kissing you again, deeper and more passionately, making you moan into his mouth, his hand exploring your curves and your stomach, its roughness erupting chills on its tracks.

You can't stop your hand from reaching for him when he grabs one of your breasts, gently massaging it through your shirt. He pulls back when you touch his crotch.

"You first, angel." He says, removing your hand and kissing your neck. Then your shoulder, your collarbone. His hand softly pulls on the hem your shirt.

"Can I?" You respond by removing it, laying back down, your back still facing him, your hand reaching back for his hair, running your fingers through it.

His hand finds your breasts again, kneading them before he lifts himself behind you, sliding underneath your right arm to place ghostly kisses first around them, circling his way closer to your nipple, looking into your eyes for any reluctancy before he moves any further.

Not finding any and feeling how you pulled gently on his curls, he licks around your nipple once, still looking into your eyes. When you moan, he takes it in his mouth, humming at its softness. You whimper at how his beard scratches your skin.

The new and soft sensation of his tongue on you makes your clit burn between your legs, that you're pressing against one another, looking for some release for the almost painful need you're feeling.

He squeezes your hips, gently at first, but more and more firmly as you pull on his hair, his lips sucking tightly around your nipple, opening and closing around it, like he's trying to drink from it.

"More, Joel. Please." You whimper, your head spinning as you drown in simultaneous under and over stimulation.

"Want me to touch you, baby? Wanna feel my fingers on you?" He asks, letting go of your nipple, his voice breathy and raspy, and you whimper in response. "Would love to feel you, baby. Know you're so wet for me already. Wanna make you cum on my fingers." He says while tracing kisses from your breast to the back of your shoulder.

"Yes, please. Yes, Joel." You say eagerly, desperately almost. Making him laugh amusedly and spread your legs, pulling your right one over his hips. Slowly running his hand from your hip to your mount, the mere warmth of his hand making you grind against it.

"So desperate, baby. Gonna take my time, make you feel so good." He pants on your neck, lowering his hand even more, drawing soft circles around your clothed clit, earning weak whimpers and moans from you. "Let's take this off." He says, pulling on your pijama shorts, and you lift your hips to help him.

He pulls your leg back over his hips and caresses you through your panties for a bit, running his middle and index fingers up and down your folds, teasing at your entrance, softly pressing on it.

He palms your folds, gently squeezing your pussy. "So good, baby." He praises, his lips never leaving your neck. He runs his fingers of the elastic of your panties, playing with it. "Is this okay?" He asks, his fingers carefully sliding underneath them.

Your moan is enough of a green light.

His rough fingers make their way under your underwear, ghosting over your mount, then your folds. Finally finding the crease between them, gently touching your clit before spreading your folds, groaning when he feels how wet you are.

"Dripping already, baby. We haven't even started yet." He teases, nibbling at your ear and making you giggle. He laughs behind you. "Goddammit, baby, I..."

He stops himself with a grunt before he says too much, before he lets out something he's been pondering on, a feeling he's not managing to prune as it grows roots inside him.

He circles your clit again, just his middle finger rolling lazily over it. He uncovers it from the skin on top of it, making your whole core burn for him, the rough textured of his fingers on such a sensitive spot making you pull away with a whine.

"Sorry, baby. Too much?" He asks, kissing your shoulder, and you whimper in response, getting close to him again. "It's okay. We won't ever do anything that doesn't feel good."

He goes to your entrance and draws circles over it, slowly pushing the tip of his middle finger inside you.

"This okay?" Comes out in a whisper on your neck.

You love how he's always making sure you're enjoying what he's doing. Always checking in on you.

"More, Joel." You manage to put out.

"Okay, but just one, alright? We can work on two later." He says and you nod. You just need something from him.

He french kisses and bites on your shoulder while he pushes in, your walls engulfing him. You moan when his finger goes fully inside you.

It's so much bigger than yours.

He groans as he spreads his palm over your pussy, squeezing it quickly before gently thrusting his finger in and out of you.

"You feel so good, baby. So tight around my finger." His breath fans on your neck, and you have to swallow back a loud moan when he curls his finger, just like he taught you last time, hitting an even deeper spot than you managed to.

"Shh, real quiet, angel." His thumb finds your clit and he caresses it lazily, his finger moving slowly against your walls, your hips moving to try and ease the burn.

You feel his erection against your ass and your hand looks for him, grabbing him through his pants, earning a grunt, moaning when you feel how hard he is.

"Wanna feel you cum like this, can you try that for me, baby?" He asks while he fasten his movements, each thrust deeper and faster, each curl tighter and each circle around your clit more desperate. His hips bumping against your hand while you try to work him.

"Joel." You moan softly when your body starts contorting around him, your core burning as your hips move against his hand. "Please, let me do it." You plead, struggling to open his belt with just one hand.

"Fuck." He curses while he lets go of you, desperately opening his belt and freeing himself. He helps you remove your panties before carefully pulling you back in his arms, spooning you. His left arm underneath your head as his right arm pulls your leg over his hips again, his cock pressing against your ass, his hips grinding against you.

You stroke him slowly, spreading his precum all over his length, giving a special attention to his tip.

Just like he taught you. His grunts a sign you've learned just right.

His hands return their work, one on your pussy while the other alternates between caressing your hair and kneading your breasts, and you can feel his strong arm contracting underneath your face as he moves.

He notices your hand around him and your breathing both getting more erratic, an almost painful look in your face.

"Relax, cum for me, baby, let me feel you. I'm right here, I've got you, just let it come." He coos, and you twist your hand around him, making him thrust into it.

Being so close, so tangled, so vulnerable with him overtakes you, and your orgasm builds like a wave, slow and steady before crashing against your core, making you forget everything that wasn't Joel.

His smell, his warmth, his hot breath on your neck, his sounds, his rough fingers, his hardness.

You bite his arm that's under your head in an attempt to quiet yourself as he engulfs you with it, holding you tight and close to him, whispering praises and curses on your ear, thrusting slower and deeper into your hand.

"There we go. Feels so good around my finger, baby." He coos while you contort under his embrace.

He grunts as you probably squeeze his cock a bit too hard while you cum.

"Even prettier like this, my pretty girl." He praises as he pulls out of you, your arousal leaking all over your leg and butt.

"Making such a pretty mess for me, baby, look at this. You're gonna feel so good around me, angel." He thrusts into your hand again and shows you his finger, glistening and wrinkled from being inside you for so long, coated in your juices.

He sucks on it, furrowing his brows and humming at your taste, an amused smile on his face. His hips buck forward while he laughs, looking adoringly down at you.

"Taste so, so good, my baby, goddammit." He pants, and you wanna see him do it again, so you let go of him and gather some of your juices, bringing your fingers to his mouth.

He's quick to suck around them, rolling his tongue around your fingers and giving you a peck on the lips.

He thrusts forward again and his cock slides against your folds, making you both moan. "Hmm. Thank you, angel." He smiles on your lips, spraying kisses on your collarbone and your throat, his hips moving at a slow pace, savoring how you feel against his cock.

"So soft. So wet for me." He praises, hugging you, squeezing your waist and your breasts, moving his hips with more intent. Your belly clenching when his tip brushes against your sensitive clit.

"You like this, baby? Does it feel good? Feels real good to me." He breathes on your hair, his voice deep and raspy.

His right hand comes back underneath your face, and you snuggle against it, weakly bitting his palm and indulging on its texture against your skin.

It all feels amazing. The contrast between his rough, calloused hands and his soft, wet and warm cock rubbing against your pussy making you see stars. He feels so, so good.

"Feels so good, Joel." You moan.

"Close your legs real tight for me then, baby." He instructs and you do, pressing your thighs together, feeling his cock pulse between your legs. "There you go, good girl. Making me feel so good, baby." He says as he picks up his pace.

He fucks your folds for a while, grunting and moaning behind you as his cock opens it's way through them, spreading them and brushing his tip against your clit. The way his strong arms keep you close to him make you start rolling your hips instinctively against his cock.

He changes his pace to meet your hips, setting a passionate and deep rhythm, and you can hear the wet sound of your bodies pleasing one another when you move just slightly harder.

When you start to really enjoy yourself he suddenly stops, laying you on your back and climbing on top of you. He spreads your legs, making room for his broad frames between them.

He looks so big, so strong above you. You run your hands on his arms, frustrated that he's still fully clothed while you're so exposed for him.

Not that he makes you feel bad like this. No... It feels actually strangely good to be fully naked under a fully clothed Joel Miller.

He notices you mesmerized by him and just stand above you, kneeled between your legs, admiring your own exposed body.

To think that he did everything he's done to you without having to remove a single piece of his clothing is impressive.

But you need more, you want to see him, to feel his skin against yours. If feeling his hands and his mouth feels good, you know you're gonna be lost when you feel his bare chest and stomach burning your skin.

You undo the first button on his flannel, and he laughs.

"You look so sweet, so pretty, my baby." He praises, fixing your hair and leaning down to kiss first your cheek — right besides your nose, under your eye — , then another one on your lips. A sweet and lovingly kiss. You use the proximity to finish undoing his flannel, moaning frustrated when you notice the shirt underneath it.

You pull on it's hem, and thankfully he doesn't protest, just standing on his knees and letting you remove it.

You moan when you lie back down and look at him. He wonders if he's wrong when he sees the way you look at him.

As he got older and older people seemed to want to see his naked figure less and less. And to have you looking at him like that... Set a whole new branch of roots inside his heart.

You run your hands up his sides and his chest, and he closes his eyes at the feeling of your warm and soft hands. It's been a long, long time since he felt like this. You cup his cheeks and he lowers himself on top of you.

Having him on top of you is everything you hoped it'd be.

He's soft, warm and heavy.

So deliciously heavy.

You moan at the feeling and he holds himself higher, afraid to hurt you, but you pull him back, even lower, needing his weight to crush you.

You can't even breath properly, and you love it.

You wrap your arms around him, running your hands on his back and squeezing his shoulder blades. He does the same, his arms snaking underneath you, holding you like he was afraid you could ever think of going away from him.

If it was up to you, you'd never leave this bed again, this position, this man. Every kiss he places on your neck makes you roll your hips and squeeze him between your thighs.

He lifts himself a little and guides his cock between your folds again, spreading them apart and thrusting through them, pressing his cock against you with his thumb.

"Fuck." He pants as he slides his tip over your entrance. "Can't wait to be inside you, baby. Never gonna leave you again." He says, biting your jaw softly.

The promise makes its way to your heart, the thought of belonging to him, being with him, taking care of him and being taken care of consumes you, making you roll your hips on him.

"Please Joel. I'm ready, I want to." You plead, holding his arms.

He laughs.

"No, baby. You may be, but she's not. Look at this." He says as he presses his tip on your entrance, making you clench instinctively at the invasion and whine in pain. "You need to learn how to relax for me. Need to get used to being close to me like this. I need you to be sure about it." He says as he kisses your hand that's squeezing his shoulder.

"I am, I want you." You say, feeling as he slides the very tip of his tip inside you, grunting at how tight you feel around him. He thrusts slowly, just the tip going in and out of you.

And you have to give it to him... It feels like a lot. Even just his tip requires a considerable stretch, and the thought of having him almost carving your insides to make room for himself makes you clench around him.

"Shit — grunts — fuck, baby. See? She needs more time, I don't wanna hurt you." He says as he lowers himself to press a sweet kiss on your cheek, right besides your nose, pulling his tip out of you and sliding his cock through your folds again.

You moan when you feel his now much wetter tip brush against your clit.

He pulls your left leg up, bringing your knee close to your chest, caressing your thighs, not stoping his movements. You whimper as his weight sinks you down onto the mattress, and you wrap your arms around him, digging your nails on his shoulders, pulling away when he grunts from it.

"Sorry." You moan, afraid you've hurt him.

"No, baby. C'mon, squeeze me, it means you're liking it." He reassures you, thrusting slower and harder, pressing his hips deeper on top of you and bringing your other leg up.

"I wanna see it, Joel." You breath, holding firmly into his shoulders, your brows furrowed as you push him away, looking down where your bodies are connected.

"Yeah, baby? I love seeing it too. You look so pretty all spread for me like this, all ready and wet for me." He pants, touching his forehead to yours, looking down.

His hips get more erratic with every thrust, his hands supporting him up and squeezing you as he lowers himself on top of you again.

"Gonna make me cum, baby. But I wanna see you do it again, think you can do it for me?" He asks, his voice low.

"Yes." You moan, focusing on how good he feels rubbing against your core.

"There you are, such a good girl for me." He praises, kissing your neck, fastening his movements even more. "Gonna feel so good cumming under me, with my cock for the very first time, baby. Give it to me, c'mon." He says, moving your hair away from your face and cupping your cheeks.

The constant and relentless pace he sets along with his praises becomes too overwhelming, and you bite his shoulder to not scream when you cum, clenching and convulsing around air. Crying out in pleasure, droll dripping down his shoulder, tears running down your cheeks.

"Shh, it's okay, baby. I know it feels so good, doesn't it?" He coos.

His hand that was on your cheek now supports your head up against him, caressing your hair softly, soothing you.

"Goddammit, baby. Can feel you pulsing on me." He says, staring down, watching himself slide through your dripping folds.

You only moan in response, letting go of his shoulder and kissing the deep mark your teeth left on it.

"Gonna cum for you, baby. You did so well for me, such a good — grunts — fucking girl. My... All mine." He stutters, not being able to form comprehensive sentences anymore. "Can't do it like this, no. Fucking can't." He pants before dropping to your side, stroking himself deep and fast.

You watch his strong torso as it raises and falls heavily, curses and senseless words falling from his lips.

But when he calls you... By your name, a breathy and passionate moan... You can't help it.

You reach for him, wrapping your hand around him.

"Fuck, just like last time, baby." He instructs before running his fingers through your hair and caressing your cheek with his thumb. "Such a pretty girl. I'm so fucking — grunts — lucky, angel."

His praise makes you fasten your movements, twisting your wrist around him and rolling your hand around his tip.

"Joel?" You call and he groans in response, looking at you. "Can I put it in my mouth this time?" You ask, using that goddamn voice to try and convince him.

"Jesus — no, baby. No mouth." He pants, fighting the words as they leave his mouth.

God, he loves how much you want to suck his cock. He fucking loves it.

You tighten your grip when you feel him pulse, craving more of the sensation.

"Shit — fuck. Like that, baby. Gonna make me cum for you."

When you feel him twitch and you see the first stream of cum spurt out his his tip...

...you forget everything he told you. You notice his eyes closed shut and lower yourself, opening your mouth in front of his tip, drawing a circle around his tip with your tongue.

He doesn't taste as bad as you remembered.

His hips immediately buck into your face, a gutural sound leaving his throat.

"I said no — grunts — fucking mouth, baby. Goddammit." He says, his hips thrusting up, his hand fisting your hair, but not pulling you away.

You keep licking around his tip while he cums, leaking into your mouth and your hand. You don't keep anything in your mouth, letting it all fall down on your hand and his crotch.

You look up at him and find his eyes on you. Instead of feeling shy, though, you smile, sucking around his tip for the first time, and he spurts one last time inside your mouth with a grunt.

"Fuck, baby. Felt so fucking good." He says when you feel him start softening in your hand. He fixes your hair lazily while you lick your lips, drinking what was dripping down your chin. "Doesn't taste gross anymore?" He teases, seeing how focused you are in drinking every drop of him that's on your face.

"Tastes better directly from you." You lie, only taking it into your mouth because you like how he looks at you when you do so, holding back a bitter expression when you taste more and more of his cum.

Although you have to admit... It does taste better than last time.

"Come up here, angel." He calls, pulling you on top of his chest. "You okay?" He asks while looking deep into your eyes.

You nod. Okay is nothing compared to how you feel right now.

You feel like you're floating, like you're in a transe, like jelly.

You kiss his chest, snuggling your face on him.

"Are you feeling better?" He whispers on top of your head, his hot breath on your hair.

"I feel so good, Joel."

"You do? And you're not gonna thank me, baby? I thought you had better manners than that." He teases, laughing softly underneath you, your body going up and down along with his chest.

"Thank you, Joel. Thank you too." You lightly tap his softening cock.

He laughs. There's the sillyness he missed during dinner.

The playfulness he knows he'll miss the most when he leaves you.

If he ever manages to leave you.

"Our honor, baby." He squeezes you tighter and kisses your forehead. You wrap your arms around him, feeling sleepy already.

When he feels you soften on top of him and your breathing get softer, he softly scratches your head.

"Hey, baby. Can't sleep like this. Gotta clean you up." He whispers, rolling you on the bed, on your back, and kissing your pout with a smile before going to your bathroom.

You admire his naked figure. His strong back, his broad — so broad — shoulders, his strong legs. He looks like a sculpture, like a God, almost.

And you'd be lying if you said you couldn't describe what you feel for him as almost devotion.

Your blasphemies are cut when he walks back in, already clean, with a cloth in hands. He climbs on top of the bed and spread your legs, caressing your thighs.

"So pretty." He praises when he cleans you, softly to not hurt you. Laughing when the cloth touches your clit and your body jerks up.

He finishes and kisses your belly, right above your mount, going lower and pressing a kiss on your folds.

"Joel." You moan.

"Sorry, baby. Don't wanna make a mess again." He teases you, lifting himself.

"Can you do it? Put your mouth on her?" You ask, a new spark of arousal hitting you at the thought of his warm mouth on you.

"Can't wait to, baby. But not today. No. Now the only thing you're gonna do is sleep." He puts his pants and his shirt back on before grabbing your panties and your shirt.

He dresses you back up and lie down behind you, spooning you again, his right hand coming underneath your cheek, pillowing it.

You moan at how good it feels to be so close to him. At how vulnerable you can be with him, knowing he won't move one finger unless you're okay with it.

You fall asleep faster than any other night since he arrived, only waking up for a slip second when you feel him carefully letting go of you. And you feel colder, but you know he can't sleep with you.

He presses a kiss to your temple, whispering something muffled before leaving your bedroom.

...

When he lies on his bed he seals his fate. He can't stay way from you. He doesn't want to.

The whisper on your cheeks more a confession to himself than to you.

"I think I love you."

It reverberates in his chest, a feeling he thought could never bloom again in his infertile heart. A feeling only you could sow on him.

Please, please let me know what you think about it. I love reading your thoughts, reblogs, asks and comments on this series 🩷

Hope you liked it, have a wonderful day, besties 🩷🫶🏻

My Masterlist 🩷🪷

Been a long while since part two, so I'm tagging some people that seemed to really like this series so far 🫶🏻

@pedritoferg @cleopatra99 @samsamsantos @thecaptainpandabear @blooodmoonbarnes @yourwinchesterbros @walkintheprk @cruelfvkingsummer @laiisleitte

#joel miller x reader #ghostfanwriter #fanfic #joel miller #joel miller x female reader #pedro pascal characters #smut #joel miller fanfiction #joel miller smut #joel miller x virgin reader #dbf!joel miller x reader #dbf! joel miller #i just want domestical and soft joel #soft joel miller #joel miller fluff #pedro pascal's characters #joel miller writing #dirty hands

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