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studioghibelli · 4 months

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hungry eyes- a joel miller x reader

summary: it had been a long, hard, horrible week, and you are all alone, reminiscing of the man who always made you feel better.

warnings: post outbreak!au, female reader, a tiny itty bit of the good ole’ angst (apocalypse sort of stuff), flashbacks to better times, smut (piv sex, f receiving oral, dirty talk, creampie, unprotected sex, daddy kink) age gap (20s/40s, you can decide ;) ) reader has hair, pet names, slightly emotionally closed off joel (what’s new lmao).

rating: explicit, 18+ mdni

word count: 5k….ish

The marigold caramel of the rising sun bathed the room in comfortable serenity, casting shadows across the wall that danced like ballerinas. If you hadn’t known any better, you would have called it a beautiful morning.

The mattress in the corner of the tiny apartment was torn and old, stained by years of neglect and stiff with the smell of mildew, but it was the first mattress you had come across in weeks. You had a peaceful nights sleep, about as peaceful as you could given the circumstances.

You were unsure how long the apocalypse had been going on for. Five years, ten years, one hundred years- it was all the same to you. It had brought nothing but pain to your life, and that included Joel Miller.

Joel.

Cripplingly handsome, extraordinarily strong, silently austere, mysteriously reserved. You had fallen for him as quickly as you had lost him. Quite literally lost him.

He was there one morning, and then he was gone. Like a leaf flying in the breeze, a grain of sand travelling through a current, a stray piece of grass floating in a valley. He had just….. vanished. Nothing to remember him by except a worn Longhorn shirt that smelled like him. Whether he left that piece of himself on purpose or simply forgot, you weren’t quite sure.

Despite his absence, his betrayal, his abandonment- you still yearned for him, you still loved him, you still craved him.

The week had not been kind to you.

Four near death experiences, consistently water soaked socks, and the most important and arguably the worst of them all- the last stash of your favorite granola bars. Sometimes you would have weeks like this with Joel, when nothing in the world was going right, and he always managed to make it feel better. He was gifted like that.

“Joel.” You whimpered, stopping in your tracks. The forest was alive with chirping birds, rattling leaves. The hot sun filtered in through the thick canopy of forest above, no respite from the thick, chewable humidity.

Tears were pricking your eyes.

“Almost there baby.” He already knew what was upsetting you, and he hadn’t even turned around. He could tell what was up with a simple glance, a simple inflection in your voice, a simple sigh.

You both had been up since dawn, on your feet the past 13 hours, trying to make your way to Boston. You had heard of a quarantined zone out that way. It was tiring, hard, tumultuous work.

“I’m tired. We haven’t eaten in three days. I don’t… I can’t keep this up.” Your voice was less of a whine, more of a deflated statement of abandon. You were genuinely on the edge. Was any of this even worth it?

He turned to you, his face emotionless. His beard had grown out from its usual scruff, eyes deepened by dark eye bags. You had been asking him to get more sleep, but he always insisted on taking watch while you slept.

Joel walked to where you were, a few long strides behind him, and gently grabbed your shoulders. His large hands were warm and well worked, and after years of contracting and fighting, his palms were left rough and calloused. Nonetheless, they were familiar, and warm, and inviting.

“You can keep this up. Because you’re strong. You’re a fighter, have been since I met you.” He pushed a stray piece of hair that had fallen into your face out of the way, his thumb rubbing against your cheek, helping swipe away the piece of mud that had dried beside your chin. “Come night fall, I’ll have found us a good, safe place to stay. We can rest for a few days, relax a bit.”

You nodded your head slowly, knowing he was a man of his word. Joel gave you the ghost of a smile, pressing a hot kiss to your forehead, before grabbing your hand and helping you along the rocky path.

The air was cold and stale, drying out your nostrils with every deep inhale you took. You looked to your left, the sunlight hitting your eyes.

No Joel.

It didn’t surprise you, you knew what to expect. But some mornings you wish you could squeeze your eyes shut and open them, to find yourself transported to a different world entirely.

One where Joel was there, tracing his fingers along the middle of your back, the way he always did to wake you up. One where he was pressing hot kisses on your shoulder blades, the way he knew you liked best. One where he was still dragging his fingers through your hair so he could get a better look at you, even though it always made your stomach flutter with butterflies.

Your chest felt tight as you inhaled a sharp gasp of air.

You’d give anything, just to feel him one more time. Just to know his love so intimately and dearly once again.

“Such a good fuckin’ girl.” He groaned in your hair, his sweaty body sticking against yours. His chest was hot and flushed, beads of sweat gathering beside the crows feet at his temples.

Your legs has been wrapped around his middle, and your arms had been thrown around his neck, quietly chanting his name as he took you, your back against the soft, dewy morning grass.

“Yeah?” You asked, your voice tantalizing and soft.

Joel groaned, looking down at you. A picture of perfection. Radiant, gorgeous, inspiring perfection. In a world so chaotic and constantly changing, you were the one constant he always had, the one constant he always wished to know.

“Joel?” You whispered, your bottom lip gathering between your teeth.

He had been on top of you, thrusting deep inside you for only a few minutes by then, the Summer sun beating down, cascading you both in thick golden light. His shoulder blades flexed just right beneath the waves of sunny radiation, the age in his face showing more clearly, yet not taking away any of his solemn, sturdy attractiveness.

He was focusing on your pussy, his fingers slowly rubbing at your clit. He could always tell when you were getting close to orgasm, like he knew your body just as well as you did. Perhaps even better. He knew when you were being pushed to your limits, when you needed to stop for a rest on the road, when you were being so stubborn you couldn’t realize how hungry you were- Joel just knew it all. He knew you. The way a man in love was supposed to know his woman.

At least that’s how Joel saw it.

He’d never admit it though. He wrestled with how young you were, how many years he had on you, and a part of him wondered if he had ever made you feel forced. If you had, a part of his heart ached for you, and a part of his soul hated himself. But you were smart, and Joel trusted you more than those unwanted, dark thoughts often pestered. You would tell him, if he had ever hurt you. He knew you would. Because although you were young, by God were you smart, witty, headstrong. No one could control you.

He loved you deeply for those aspects that so many would be intimated by, and Joel knew he was done for. He knew you were all that was left in this decaying, decrepit world, all that could ever make him feel content once again. You brought a sense of normality into his life that he had been craving for so long.

His fingers were dragging circles across your clit, his cock twitching deep inside of you. You were whimpering beneath him, snapping him back to reality. He remembered you had said his name.

“Yes, darlin’?”

“I-I-” Your voice was cut short as his eyes met your own. His eyes. Oh, how you adored them. Dark and alluring and sweet and welcoming and- you felt your stomach tightening with an orgasm, groaning as your nails dug into his shoulders.

This next part. Well, you didn’t mean to, you swore you’d keep it to yourself until the day you died. But as your orgasm washed over you, all you could do was cry out: “I fucking love you, Joel.”

You pushed yourself up on your elbows, swinging your legs off the side of the bed. This tiny apartment would have to do, at least for now. You had pushed a book shelf over the door, and you were three stories off the ground, offering you some sense of protection. If that was even possible.

You knew nothing was getting inside, and you’d have a hard time getting out, considering that wooden bookshelf took you a considerable amount of strength to push over. Your stomach churned at the thought. Could you even get out?

Boston wasn’t far now. About a three hour walk or so. You could see the outline of the city outside the grimy window, its buildings slowly collapsing, covered in blankets of destruction.

Some odd sense, which danced between relief and grief, overtook you. A dream to get to Boston that you had shared with a man no longer there. A dream that felt so unobtainable, all those years ago. Somehow, by God, by the universe, by fate, whatever it was, you somehow managed to get here.

You wondered if Joel had, too.

Your stomach jolted at the thought of his name.

“Joel.” You murmured to yourself, your hand resting on the window. The thought of seeing him again, his eyes meeting yours, his skin on yours, filled you with a bundle of nerves. To have him, the way you once did, lit some fire within you. What if…?

You knew he was a capable and smart man. If anyone could make it on their own, it would be him.

Hell, you did. You figured he must have, too.

You dug through your bag, finding some deodorant and toothpaste that you had miraculously looted while out on the road, getting ready for a day you’d inevitably spend inside, lounging and thinking, day dreaming and yearning.

But that was before you heard the gun shots from down below, the heavy hum of an armored truck driving through the road. Clickers shrieked at the sudden noise in the distance, and you ducked behind your window, eyeing the outside world

Faceless people dressed in heavy armor, about a dozen or so of them, jumped out of their vehicles, heavy guns in their hands as they started breaking off into pairs.

“I want all this looted. Every bit of it.” Someone shouted, a man’s voice muffled by his mask as he waved his fingers in the air, sending them off into pairs with the simple motion. “Whatever you find, report it back to me. Two hours tops.”

They scurried off, three groups heading for the building you were currently in. Surely it would take some time for them to reach the third floor. Surely.

You slid down the wall, legs to your chest, staring in front of you. Well, that man didn’t sound very nice, and you weren’t sure what your fate would be if he found you.

Then again, was anyone really nice anymore? Were you nice? Even Joel Miller, who certainly had his soft spot for you, could have been a major dick sometimes. You had your moments too.

But it seemed like the good had always outweighed the bad, at least with the two of you.

“I could probably eat pie every day. I miss it so much.” You groaned, swinging your head back. Your feet were shuffling against the falling leaves, too lazy to pick them up. Fall was coming, spreading its beautiful oranges and reds throughout the street, coating the earth with a special atmosphere that only came around autumn. It had been your favorite, before the world turned. When you were much younger, much cleaner, much sweeter.

Joel was quiet beside you, jaw clenched tightly, eyes focused on the road ahead. It was nothing new. You had been with him for two months now, and he rarely talked. He listened to you rant, cry, laugh. He grunted, shrugged, nodded- but rarely talked. When he did, he always had something good to say. Or he snapped at you. There was no in between with him.

“What was your favorite?” He asked quietly.

You glanced at him, a bit surprised he gave in to your mindless conversation. It made your heart beat quicker, your stomach rolling up to your throat. It made you feel special when he asked you questions. Like he actually wanted to know, he wasn’t just filling in the silence.

“Hard question. My nana made a killer coconut cream pie. French silk was good. Pecan too.”

“Pecan.” Joel basically moaned the word, his stomach growling lowly. “God, I loved pecan.”

You giggled, looking at him, the flickering shine of adoration clouding your orbs. “I wish I could make you some.” Your voice had dropped to a whisper, and he stopped walking, glancing at you.

“Don’t start lookin’ at me like that.” He warned, after a long look at you. Your eyes had been dancing a silent dance with one another, an odd feeling of… care…shadowing over the two of you.

“Like what?” You really had no clue, but the look on your face betrayed your obliviousness.

“Like you’re fallin’ in love with me.”

Shaking your head quickly, you felt embarrassment heating up your cheeks. “N-no…. I’m not.”

“Mhm. I know women, I know that look y’all get on your faces, when you’re startin’ to fall. The eyes, Chico. They never lie.”

Your eyebrows furrowed, lips twisting with perplexion. He noticed, and cleared his throat before explaining.

“From a movie my brother ‘n I used to watch. Called Scarface.”

“Never heard of it.”

A sweet, honeyed chuckle escaped Joel, and he shook his head, adjusting the strap of his gun across his shoulder. His eyes flashed with something, a feeling you had never seen him omit before. If you were foolish enough, you reckoned it could be grief, mixed with a little bit of sadness, a little bit of guilt. “Yeah, you definitely ain’t gettin’ no lovin’ from me, girl. You’re too young.”

Your stomach dropped at his brutal honesty, and you continued shuffling along, thinking about pecan pie and the handsome man beside you.

Your thoughts were snapped by the handle of the apartment door rattling, trying to budge against the book shelf. That was quick. You looked around for somewhere to hide, grabbing your gun and settling on a spot beneath the bed.

It was going to be a tight squeeze, but you managed to crawl your way beneath it.

The door finally broke open, the bookshelf falling with a mighty thud, and you heard heavy, labored breathing. Yeah. Heavy bookshelf. You thought to yourself, a bit stoked you somehow managed to get it there yourself.

I mean it didn’t really do anything in the end, seeing as someone had managed to make it inside but…. well, whatever.

You placed your hand over your mouth to hide your breathing, hearing the mysterious person begin walking around. You heard the window open.

“Dammit.” A husky groan escaped the person that you now recognized as a man, his voice barely above a coherent whisper.

You closed your eyes, tight.

“Dammit!” Joel snapped, slamming his fist against the tree trunk. Pieces of bark broke off beneath him, crumbling against his leather boots.

“Whoa there, cowboy! Look- now your knuckles are bleeding. Just calm down.” You shuffled through your bag, finding some gauze and rubbing alcohol.

“Those fuckin’ liars. I can’t stand liars. Said there was a car here, said they swore they saw one!”

You picked up Joel’s hand, gently pouring the alcohol over it. He barely winced. For some reason, that turned you on. You shook your head slightly. Now was not the time! “It’s okay. We’ll figure something out, we always do, don’t we?” Joel ignored you, sulking for a bit.

“You got pretty hands.” He whispered after a long moment of silence. “They’re soft.” Joel’s thumb brushed across your knuckles, bloodless and smooth.

You looked down at him, gently brushing a piece of hair off his face. The hint of anger still sat in his eyes, although they were softening ever so slightly. “What happened to not loving me?” Your voice was barely above a whisper.

Joel chuckled. “I didn’t say I loved ya.” His voice was gruff. Tired from a long day. Exhausted from his rage.

You gently cupped his cheek before dropping it, all in the same movement. “The eyes, Chico. They never lie.”

He sat there quietly and reserved, letting you bandage his hands up. You were unsure if he was annoyed, his face void of any emotion, but you could have sworn a smirk swept across his lips.

The heavy footed man shuffled, opening drawers and pushing through shelves, grunting and huffing to himself. That’s when a pair of boots caught your eye. Dark brown leather, embellished with a black sole and darker embroidery. Shoes that you had known well, many moons ago.

Joel.

If it wasn’t him, you risked losing your life. If it was him, you risked falling apart. It was a loss either way. So you finally spoke. “Joel?” You croaked out, tears welling in your eyes.

The man stopped walking, and you heard the floorboards creak as he turned his head. His jeans stretched tight against his thighs as he squatted down, lifting up the bed sheet that was hanging off the side, masking you from view.

And there he was.

A little bit older. A little bit rougher. A little bit dirtier.

His hair was curling around the sides of his face, grayer than it had been, and the wrinkles were more evident in his forehead, deep lines beside his mouth. The end of the world definitely aged the man. Yet still, despite it all, he was so handsome.

Inside your chest, anger was brewing, clawing at your rib cage, screaming to be let out. You were stuck in a maelstrom of love, anger, and a whole lot of curiosity. You wanted to hit him, you wanted to kiss him. You wanted him to apologize, you wanted him to fuck you, you wanted him to hate you, to love you. You were stuck in a pit of emotion, not knowing what your next move would be.

Everything was happening so quickly. Blood was rushing to your head, white noise filling your ears.

“Well I’ll be damned.” He smiled, a real, genuine smile, and extended his hands for you.

You wasted no time. “Where the fucking hell did you go?” You snarled, pushing away his hand as you belly crawled out from underneath your hiding space. You didn’t want to think about how stupid you probably looked right now, crawling on your stomach, grunting and sweating from the heat.

“Well, darlin’, I’m sorry I got caught up with the wrong people.” He raised his hands, leaving you just as confused as before. “Was expecting a warmer welcome.”

There was a long moment of silence. “Huh?!” You finally cried out, throwing your arms up.

“I went out that mornin’ lookin’ for some….” Joel groaned softly, rubbing the back of his neck. “Some flowers.” He snarled through gritted teeth, almost embarrassed. “And there was a group of these…. I don’t know what to call ‘em. Scouts? Held a gun to my head, asked if I was with anyone. I said no, y’know. Saved you from a whole world of hurt.”

You stood there, in disbelief that he was actually there. Your anger soon dissipated. Now you were left with a terrible, awful, horrible pit in your stomach. Guilt. Sadness. Love.

“I can’t believe…. I-I- you’re here. In front of me.” Tears were pooling in your eyes, threatening to spill. Your heart was beating ten times faster than usual, your chest hurting from the sudden influx of emotion

Joel took a step towards you. “In the flesh, darlin’.”

“I didn’t know if you were dead or…. or alive or….” You groaned, burying your face in the palms of your hands as a sob shook through you. “It was so hard. Being-being alone, without you.”

Joel grabbed your waist tightly, and you slowly looked up at him. “You won’t be alone without me, ever again. I promise you. You hear?” He gripped ahold of your chin, tilting your head upwards. You looked up at him with those big doe like eyes of yours, and his thumb slowly brushed across your bottom lip. “As much as I would love to show you how much I’ve been missin’ you, we got some fuckin’ asshats barrelin’ through the place. I was lookin’ for a place to leave, that’s how I found this room.”

“Where you in this building?”

He nodded. “Stopped here a couple nights ago. Was on the top floor.”

“We were here, in the same building, and neither of us even….. even knew.” You muttered, eyebrows furrowing. Life was a curious thing.

“Must’ve been fate, huh?” Joel grinned, walking back over to the window. He put a hand on his hip as he leaned the other against the wall, straining his neck. “By now they’ll still be on the first floor. Our best bet is either sneakin’ out, or jumping from the second floor.”

“Jumping?” You repeated.

“Mhm.” Joel was chewing on the inside of his cheek as he turned to face you. “You’re the lady. You make the choice.”

You stood there for a moment, weighing over the two rather atrocious options. “Second floor.” You finally said. “A hurt leg is better than getting shot down.”

“Then we jump. Together.”

Joel grabbed your hand, before stopping abruptly. He looked you over, staring at your chest with narrowed eyes. “Is that my Longhorns shirt?”

“Yeah. You left it, that morning.”

He shook his head, a smile on his mouth. “I was wonderin’ where that went. It looks much better on you.”

“Nah.” You shook your head, your mind wandering to the way his broad shoulders had once looked beneath it, the way his strong arms flexed under the sleeves. Your knees were starting to go weak.

You both made your way towards the stairwell, quietly creeping down until you reached the next floor. You saw a door ajar in the back of the hallway, walking towards it. Joel stepped in first, making sure it was clear, before grabbing your hand and leading you inside.

It was a simple apartment, but what the most appealing part of it was, was a made bed. A fluffy comforter, four pillows, and a knitted throw blanket. It was tempting. It looked soft. It looked like the world had somehow managed to miss it entirely, not once touching it.

It looked like it was calling your name.

How you missed it your first scan through, you had no clue.

You and Joel shared a look.

“As much as I want too….”

“What are the odds they’ll hear?” You whispered, a smile cracking at your mouth.

Joel tossed it around in his head, groaning. “I don’t think it’s a good idea. Hearin’ or not.”

Your hand grabbed his collar. “I do. I think it’s a good idea.”

“You’ve always been a trouble maker. Of course you think it’s a good idea.” He snorted.

“Me?” You feigned a gasp, your eyes innocent behind batting eyelashes.

Joel groaned, giving in, before tugging at the hem of your shirt. “Off.”

You obeyed, tossing it off your body as he began undoing his belt. “So damn pretty.” He murmured, his hand tracing down your bare stomach. He didn’t say it, but you knew behind his eyes, he had missed you deeply.

“Been with anyone prettier since we’ve been apart?” You asked teasingly. A part of you was actually curious, morbidly so.

“Wouldn’t even dream of it, baby.”

Your heart fluttered, and he took a step forward, taking your body in his hands. “I’m gonna fuck you on that bed, then we’re jumpin’ out that window. Nothin’ else for now.” You opened your mouth to protest, and he cut you off. “Now I know you want to lay with me, talk about pie and shit, but we can do that somewhere else. Somewhere safer. Got it?”

You giggled softly and nodded. “I promise that next time, I’ll take real good care of you. Okay?” You nodded once more in agreement. “Now that’s a good girl.”

Joel’s fingers went to the zipper of your pants, tugging them off until they pooled at your ankles, quickly discarding your bra. Wetness had been pooling in your red cotton underwear since you first saw him, a throbbing deep within your stomach. But now, with his roughed up hands on your skin, the smooth richness of his voice- all of it just added to your arousal, making your head spin with excitement.

And Joel knew this. He knew you like the back of his hand.

All the time you’d been apart, all those lonely nights and long days without you, he thought of you. Embarrassingly more than he’d like to admit. Joel was a tough man, he knew he was intimidating to most, but you had always seen right through him. You had always known that deep, deep, deep down, behind all the violence and rage, there was a kind heart, and a gentle, understanding man. Although that was reserved for your eyes only.

“Kiss me, Joel.” You whispered, looking up at him.

“Joel?”

“Oh, sorry. I meant…. daddy.” You purred softly, grinning up at him mischievously.

“That’s better.” He pushed you back on the bed, climbing over you. Joel leaned down, pressing a searing kiss to your mouth. It was a hungry kiss. The kind that made you forget everything going on around. The kind that consumed your entire being. In this moment you were him, and he was you.

A shiver ran down your spine.

“Need you.” You groaned against his lips. “Need you so bad.”

“Yeah? You want daddy to make you feel good?” Joel asked quietly, his hand creeping down behind your underwear, fingers rubbing against the slick of your folds.

The tip of his index finger traced a line down your clit, swollen and throbbing with the promise of soon coming pleasure. A mewl escaped you, finger nails digging into his bare shoulders as his fingers explored you. He groaned into your shoulder blade, plunging two finger inside your tight, wet cunt.

“Jus’ like I remembered. Nice and tight for me. She’s real wet, too.” His mouth was watering, teeth gently nipping against the lobe of your ear. “Can’t wait to taste you.”

“I thought we were just fucking then jumping-”

“Changed my mind.” He fired out quickly. “You got a pussy worth dying for.”

You both shared a laugh. A real, genuine laugh. The kind that was only ever shared between two bonded people, between those who knew each other deeply, intimately, intensely.

He pushed your legs back as he slid down, hooking his rough arms around your thighs. Your legs rested on his broad shoulders, and you watched with eagle eyes as he leaned forward, his tongue extending towards your clit.

That first lick made your eyes roll back, your neck falling into the pillows behind you. A sigh of relief, a sigh of love, escaped you.

Joel hummed against your pussy, savoring the way you tasted. He knew how to make you cum in under five minutes, he had done it many, many times before, but there was something about lapping you all up, taking his sweet, precious time with you, that turned him on more than anything.

He was the one making you feel good. He was the one causing you to come undone.

Nothing in the world felt better than that.

You ran your fingers through his hair, staring at him through your eyelashes. “So handsome.” You whispered, a whimper coming soon after.

“Gonna make me blush.” He grinned, sucking your clit into his mouth. He swirled his tongue against your button, fingers digging in to your soft thighs, leaving his imprint against them.

“Oh, Joel. Oh, baby. Right there.” Your back arched against the covers as he sucked harder on your clit, introducing his fingers to your opening once more.

Joel pushed them in to the knuckle, his ring and index finger slowly pumping, stretching you out, before they sought after that soft spot he knew made you crazy. The spot he knew made you lose your mind. All because of him.

The thought made Joel moan against you.

“Taste so damn good, babydoll. So fuckin’ good for me. So perfect.” Joel muttered against your wet pussy, lapping you up like a man who hadn’t tasted water in weeks.

“Oh. Oh, so close. Gonna cum for you.”

Joel continued fingering you, hitting your g-spot with every pump of his fingers. “Yeah? Gonna cum all over daddy’s tongue?”

“Mhm.” You were panting now, grinding your cunt against his face, bucking your hips- he had turned you in to a wild animal, panting and clawing, hungry for him and only him. No one else had ever seen you like this, and no one ever would.

You were pulling so hard at his graying curls his scalp was aching, but Joel didn’t mind. As long as he got to taste his girls’ cum in the end.

“Gonna-gonna… fuck, Joel. I’m cumming!” You cried out, perhaps a bit too loudly, pulling his face closer to your pussy as he sucked and licked, not wasting any drop of the wetness dripping out of you.

When you came to, Joel had gotten on top of you, his fingers still gingerly rubbing your pussy, bringing you back to the real world.

“God I missed you.” You groaned, wrapping your arms around his neck, bringing him closer.

“I missed you too.” He whispered, gently rubbing his nose into yours. “I thought about you. A lot.” His voice was serious, quiet, and a little bit embarrassed. Joel wasn’t good at talking about these things, but he would make an effort for you.

You gently cupped his face, rubbing your thumb over his sharp cheekbone. “Now go on and fuck me, Miller. We don’t have all day.”

You gently reached down, wrapping your hand around his hard cock. You felt it throb. He placed his hand over yours, slowly guiding it to your wet entrance. “‘M gonna fuck you real good. Real hard. The way you deserve.”

Butterflies erupted in your stomach, and all you could do was nod.

Joel ran his hands down your side, eliciting a giggle. The tip of his dick slowly pushed inside of you, stretching you slowly. He pulled back, gently thumbing your clit as he watched himself slowly enter in to you. “Jus’ perfect. Perfect girl for me. A dream.” He murmured to no one in particular.

You gently grabbed hold of his thick biceps, feeling the sticky sensation of his sweat. You clenched yourself around him, and his head snapped towards you. “Not gonna last long if you keep that up. Hope you know.”

“You just started!” You teased breathlessly.

Joel chuckled, leaning forward. He had pushed himself fully inside, before pulling all the way out and slamming back in. You gasped at the sudden movement, quickly becoming acquainted with this pattern.

“So big. So good.”

He smirked an arrogant, cocky smirk, pounding deeper, harder, yet keeping the same pace, never getting sloppy or impatient. He was good at controlling himself, good at keeping his eye on the prize. And you were most certainly the prize he wanted most in this life.

“God, Joel. Jesus Christ.” You gritted your teeth, your stomach tightening as he hit deep inside you, hitting that spot once again, now over sensitive from your previous orgasm.

“Think you can cum for me again?” He grunted. “Think I can get that pretty pussy to gush for me?”

“Ohhh, God. Yes! Yes. Please, make me cum, daddy. Please.” You were begging now, overwhelmed with the feeling of being full of him, being so close to him.

It had been a long, long time. And yet, like an apparition, a god, a ghost, he had appeared once again. Just as perfect and handsome as the last time you ever saw him. You knew in your heart of hearts it happened for a reason. You belonged together.

“Yeah, I’ll make you cum.” He reached down, slowly circling your clit. It was soft and wet against his finger, just begging to be touched.

You looked up into his eyes. His deep, dark, gorgeous eyes, darkened by desire, full of you. They softened once they caught glimpse of you, but they were still glossed over with hunger.

His fingers tangled themselves in to the tresses of your hair, inhaling you. All of you. Devouring you with his mind, body, soul as he took you. Hard. Deep. Passionately.

Joel gently bit down onto your neck, sucking and kissing, marking you as his. Only his.

“Gonna cum, Joel.” You mumbled into his cheek, his fingers keeping the same pace and motions as before against your clit.

You clenched against him as your orgasm rushed over you, white hot pleasure soaking in to your senses, blinding you to the world around. Everything was Joel. Everything was him. As you came, the only thought on your mind was Joel.

Joel, Joel, Joel.

Like a prayer. A chant. A song.

He grunted into your skin, his hips slapping into your body. Over, and over. “Gonna cum in you.” He mumbled. He didn’t care if it was a bad decision. He didn’t care. All he knew was he needed you, the way a dying plant needed water, the way the ocean needed the moon.

“Yeah? Go on, baby. Fill me up.” You begged, running your hands down his back.

Joel moaned, an animalistic growl escaping him as his cock twitched, filling you with his cum, his own orgasm washing over him in droves. In that moment all you knew was him, the way his skin felt, the way he smelled, the way his mouth tasted.

And in turn all he knew was you. The sweetness of your voice, the thickness of your hair. You. You. You.

Joel collapsed in to you, catching his breath as his face rested on your neck. You rubbed his back, fingers massaging in to his shoulders, coaxing him back to life.

“Missed you.” You whispered. “So much.”

He nodded slowly, holding you close to him. “I missed you.”

There wasn’t much time to dilly dally. You heard footsteps coming up the stairs down the hall, and both of you stood up, reaching for your clothes. You watched him dress as you mindlessly clipped your bra, eyes full of love, full of contentment.

His fingers slowly buttoned up his flannel, a lazy smile hanging on his face. You knew he was content, just like you. Lacing up his boots, he made his way to the window.

“When you jump, aim for that.” He said, pointing to the pile of thrown out couch pillows, moss covered and stained with mud. “It’s our best bet. Make sure your legs are tucked as close to your chest as possible.”

“Are we going to die?” You asked, perhaps a bit too casually. A painful attempt to mask your nerves.

“Someday. But not today. I promise.”

You nodded, slinging your backpack over your shoulders. “Well jump together?” You whispered.

Joel nodded. “Always, darlin’.”

You gulped thickly. “I know you love me. You always have.”

He scoffed. “Says who?”

A smirk crossed your face as you propped your leg up on the window, staring at the earth beneath you. It didn’t seem so far from this angle, didn’t look too bad. “The eyes.” You whispered, turning to face him. “They never lie.” You pulled him in for one more kiss, deep and passionate. He reciprocated, chuckling against your lips as he kissed you back, holding you close to him.

When he pulled away he looked at you like you were the only thing in this world that mattered.

“I never should have told you about that damned movie.” Joel gently brushed his thumb against your cheek, kissing you once more. “On the count of three, got it?”

You nodded.

One

Two

Three

When you jumped, hand in hand, neither of you were too sure what would come next. But both of you knew, although it was unspoken, that whatever came next would be much easier together.

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fox-bright · 21 days

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In Response to the H5N1 Ask:

I'm not answering the ask with your name on it, because I think you came off poorly, and I'm not in the habit of pointing my followers at people when I feel this angry at them. But having had some fresh chocolate chip cookies, some cat snuggles, some sifu-husband hugs, some delightful kindly asks from people who are prepared to behave like equals today and no shortage of groupchat “Would you look at the fucking cojones on THIS one?!” mockery, I now feel settled enough to take this line by line.

So let’s do it.

Hello. I am someone who works alongside people in ornithology. Hi! I work alongside a master of IT and frequently work arm-in-arm with medical doctors. What does that make me? I’m not a sysadmin and you’d better not trust me to install an arterial stent.

Your bird flu post was linked to me and I would like to privately share some reassurance about H1N1 as well as some problems I have with your post.

My post was about H5N1. H1N1 is the swine flu.

Bird flu has been studied for years and indeed is very lethal to humans, but it does not have the same viral characteristics as a mammal-originating virus like COVID does. This is not a useful statement. Bird flu has been studied for decades—over a century, in fact, as the 1918 flu was an avian influenza. You know, the one that killed tens of millions of people, to the point that it derailed a world war? Personally, I have been paying attention to and reading research papers about H5N1 since 2015, and giving my very close attention to it for the last five years.

Since the SARS outbreak, vaccines and treatments for these rare case of direct bird-to-human flu transmission have been developed and have been poised to be deployed immediately should direct bird-to-human transmission ever occur. Let’s be clear: bird-to-human transmission is occurring too frequently. More than eight hundred times in the last twenty years, and more and more rapidly in recent years, and again, more than half of those were lethal. That tends to be from exposure to wild animals hunted for food, or exposure to home-raised animals who get sick from wild animals. Bird-to-human transmission is not yet occurring frequently in the States, where our food is generally factory-produced and hunting is less common, but it is occurring with increasing regularity outside of the US. No vaccine will be useful to a person who is already infected (useless!); currently the treatment for infected people is antivirals and supportive care, alongside strict quarantine. Current H5N1 vaccines may or may not be very effective against any human-to-human variant, as it may have mutated to evade them. We do not have enough H5N1 vaccine doses to go around, and the ones we do will be concentrated first on the military and medical personnel.

The reason monitoring agencies and professionals are on “high alert” for these bird-to-cow-to-human incidents is because they are taking it seriously on a more theoretical level essential to their profession. Why are you so smugly, confidently incorrect? “We have never seen this scale of infections in mammals, and in such diversity of mammals. We have now seen more than 40 species of mammals infected during the last outbreaks, which is unprecedented.”

In this case, the people and cows who contracted H1N1 did not die. It’s literally been days since the human contracted it from the cows, and we do not yet know that he’s the only one. We are NOT in a position to say “okay, so things are peachy!” We also do not know how many cows have it (we’re up to what, fifteen farms now?) and we do not know how rapidly it’s evolving in those massive groups of mammals.

My first concern about your post is its lack of linked to sources and the framing of it as an advice post. The New York Times has an article available on this issue as well as the Audubon Society and various wildlife agencies. Some of these articles are a year or two old, This is the point where I started getting really pissed at you. You demand I provide citations, but you provide none. You suggest I go to the fucking New York Times to read outdated articles? So you haven’t read anything more recent, or from anywhere more reliable, and thus you don’t imagine that I have, either? Arrogance.

but that is because this strain is a very slow-moving development ABSOLUTELY not the case. It is mutating rapidly, over and over and over again. You demanded sources, so I expect you to read those, but if you’ve only got time for one, pick the last of them.

with no immediate signs of consequences for humans outside of people working directly with cattle getting sick— and these humans have neither transmitted the virus to others or suffered anything worse than pink eye from it. So since it hasn’t happened, we don’t need to worry about it happening, hmm? Are you familiar with the term “gain-of-function research?” It’s when an organism is changed, in a lab, to make it more powerful, more infectious, more virulent, something along those lines. When you put a disease into tens of thousands of animals, you’re performing a natural gain of function experiment, as it has tens of thousands of chances to mutate. The “Spanish flu” pandemic, which actually was first noted in a Kansas army base, was almost certainly the result of an avian flu infecting pigs. Pigs are really similar to us, in terms of receptors; what makes them sick is much more likely to make us sick; when this hits pigs-to-pig transmission, it’s time to batten down the hatches. Cows aren’t nearly as similar, but they’re still mammals, so they bring it a lot closer to us; and when you can get unaltered H5N1 from bodily fluids, guess what? Meat and milk are disease vectors. And we don’t actually know that pasteurization of milk inactivates the virus. As I said in my previous post, now is the time to prepare, and to be wary.

This strain is lethal and highly viral between birds and will likely remain this way for a very long time.

This strain has been rapidly, monstrously lethal to MANY animals. Sometimes in huge numbers. You may remember the mink farm where it mutated to spread mink-to-mink (those are mammals), or the sea lions (which I will point out to you are also mammals), where it spread sea lion-to-sea lion and rapidly killed them by the thousands. It’s killing polar bears. It’s killing other predators. It’s killing all manner of US mammals singly and in multiples. However, the mammal-killing mutations don’t stop it from still killing birds.

My final concern— Spring is coming and that means horny birds are about to start hitting windows. Wildlife rehabbers are currently updating the public’s general info on what to do with stunned birds— they often do not recover if left on their own to fly away after a window strike and concerned citizens need to take these birds to a rehabber immediately if found. If people read your post, they will likely conclude that bird-to-human crossover is likely and be afraid to touch a downed bird that needs emergency medical care. I want to be absolutely, painfully clear to any non-doofus reading this right now: I have loved birds since infancy. I grew up with a smalltime conservationist; I have spent no small amount of my photographic hours on birds. I have saved wild birds—poisoned by farmers, wingshot by rednecks, window-struck, sick, attacked by feral cats, orphaned by agricultural machinery--long enough to get them to rehabbers on many occasions, and I have on three occasions assisted with that rehab, including keeping very odd hours to feed nestlings with a dropper. I have assisted with ecological rehabilitation and rewilding programs to provide them with territory; I have written my politicians and donated to wildlife efforts. So know that this is not coming from a place of not respecting or loving the wildlife. This is not “framed as” or “presented as” advice, this is absolutely the advice I would give you face to face, in absolute conviction. This year? If you see a fallen bird? You WALK THE FUCK AWAY. H5N1 gives birds seizures, disorientation, clumsiness and gasping. Or, sometimes, it is completely asymptomatic, and a perfectly healthy-seeming bird could still give you the disease. You can not tell if that bird hit the window because it’s horny and stupid and you forgot to put the stickers up, or because it’s in the grip of a disease that could kill you if the creature breathes too closely to you.

Given all of this, I ask that you please delete your original bird flu post before it has the chance to scare a lot of people and potentially hinder them from helping birds. Yeah, that's not going to be happening.

If you’d like to repost it, please add linked sources and resources for those concerned about avian flu. As previously mentioned, the New York Times has an article with the latest developments on monitoring this virus. Fuck you and your ignorant superciliousness sideways. You do not walk into my fucking Asks with this bullshit like you know ANYTHING when you plainly haven’t read jack shit about the situation as it’s evolving on the ground.

Bird flu is indeed very scary but not nearly in the same league as Covid or even the seasonal flu for most people. You’re absolutely right, in absolutely the wrong direction. If-when this goes human-to-human, it will rapidly outstrip covid’s dangerousness to a shocking degree. Today, it is not dangerous to anyone who leaves birds the fuck alone, but that’s today, and we need to prepare for the potential of tomorrow.

I hope this information helps and please excuse my stiff language. I suspect I sound really angry and condescending when I haven’t had much sleep. Yeah, you came off as a total jackwagon. “This information,” you say, as if you brought ANYTHING with you but attitude.

Sorry if that’s the case, but I didn’t want anything picking up steam before sharing this with you! Please educate yourself more adequately before you attempt again to correct someone. I have myself in the past been raring to go with a correction, checked to make sure that I had my phrasing right, and been caught flatfooted by new information. It’s better to feel that embarrassing moment of “oh, shit,” and realign your understanding silently, than to go in without doing any of the work and waste someone else’s time having to educate you.

If you reply to this in any way that is even slightly confrontational, I'm just going to block you. You aren't worth my time--you weren't worth this time! I have things I am supposed to be doing!--and I genuinely hope you do better in the future.

#I have shit to DO!

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bluestripedspeedo · 3 months

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Indiscreet - 05. In the Mood for Love Pairing: Writer/Producer!Javi Gutierrez x you (Hollywood AU) SERIES MASTERLIST

Chapter summary: This is it. The Big Moment. Chapter warning: NSFW, NC-17, mature, no minors allowed. Discussion of safety, oral (both you and Javi), PIV, dirty talk, daddy kink (not the DDLG kind), age gap (mid 20s and mid 40s). Word count: 9.8k

Playlist: Dress - Taylor Swift So It Goes

Author's note: I had this in the queue two years ago, then life got in the way and I abandoned it. I've decided to return because I feel I have a responsibility to finish what I started, so here it is, the very long awaited smut chapter!

I've also decided to tweak the previous chapters a lot because I've changed as a person in these two years, so it's better to reread those first, as a refresher too. When I first started writing this, it was going to be about a pandemic/quarantine romance - it was initially inspired by The Bubble's premise anyway. But... that's old news now, and I don't feel like going back to that space of mind. You fall in love under different circumstances now.

Enjoy and apologies for my absence. I promise to be here more often!

✧✧✧

Day 9

The wrap party is held at the villa where you’d been filming for the past week. All of the cast and crew members are present except for one glaring absence – Dieter Bravo. He’d left the set faster than Óscar could even announce it’s a wrap. In full costume, no less.

Javi has to do something about that. Dieter’s a brilliant actor, that’s undeniable, but his public image hasn’t been positive lately. Hunger Strike helped him sweep the awards season, and if Dieter could be a little more professional, Javi wouldn’t mind pushing the campaign for his work in this too. He’s lucky he physically resembles Javi a little… As long as Javi keeps writing self-insert characters into his scripts, Dieter will always have a job waiting.

The dinner part of the party is over – people are scattered around the garden mingling and draining the last bottles of champagne and making plans for the few days off until work resumes in London.

“Óscar,” you sit down between him and Javi. They have settled on the chairs they dragged to the corner to overlook the sea while they drink and smoke. “I’m gonna go with those guys. They’ll drive me back.”

Your head nudges towards the group laughing boisterously on the steps of the villa. Some are crew, some are your co-stars that you’ve been working with since the start of the production, and some are new local actors hired just for the duration of the shoot here. They’ve made such a tight knit group you’re surprised that they even asked you to come along at all.

“Taking the party elsewhere?” Óscar asks.

“Yeah… we’re going to Saint-Tropez.”

“We could go with you. If you want.” Javi carefully masks his hopeful tone.

“We’re gonna hit up some clubs...”

“You’re way too old for that.” Óscar slaps Javi on the shoulder.

“Right,” Javi drinks the rest of his cognac in one gulp and pours another, since he’s not going anywhere tonight by the looks of it. “Might displace my hip on the dance floor or something.”

You laugh. “You’re good. It’s just… I never went out with any of them, so… could be fun.”

“Oh my God, go, we’re not your parents,” Óscar shoos you. “Just be on the boat on time tomorrow. And ask the others, too.”

“Will do, Dad.”

Javi chokes on his drink and Óscar snorts. He gets up when the cinematographer and boom operator drunkenly call for his attention. “Have fun, kid.”

“Take care of yourself. Don’t drink too much.” Javi says once Óscar is safely out of hearing distance. He didn’t see you drinking at all during dinner despite the free flowing alcohol and now he suspects it’s because you’ve planned on going all out for the after party. He doesn’t mean to be controlling, but he’s supportive of your intention to cut back and he doesn’t really trust that party crowd to look after you. Not that he thinks you couldn’t do it yourself, but it would give him a peace of mind if you were going to be inebriated.

“Yeah, don’t worry about that. I just feel like I should go. They’re my castmates. I haven’t spent much time with them, or even at all.” All thanks to the man sitting across from you, but you have no regrets. “And, you know, networking.”

“We both know you don’t have to worry about that anymore,” he grins. “Where are you going? Do you know yet?”

“No, but probably something really cliche like Les Caves or VIP.”

“Is Elise coming too? I don’t see her.”

“She left. Like ten minutes ago. Don’t ask me how I know and don’t tell anyone, but she’s following Dieter.”

Oh, shit. Javi’s eyes go wide.

“Hey, don’t ask.”

Javi is incredulous. Is he that oblivious to even his actors now? He’s on set most days and he always keeps a closer eye on them to anticipate any on set drama. He’s known them both for as long as he’s been in the industry and he usually could get a good read on these things. Takes one to know one. Maybe he’s really been that distracted.

“What about Ross? Is he coming with you?”

“Yeah. Why?” A coy smile slowly forms on your lips.

“Nothing. I heard he asked you out.” He looks away from you into the distance.

You fake a gasp. “Were you eavesdropping on me?”

“He was pretty damn loud about it.”

“Then you know I told him I have a boyfriend, right?”

“I thought so. The way his face fell. If only he could emote that well on camera.”

“Javi! That’s mean!”

“You know I’m not wrong.”

He’s right. You might be new, but you figured a while ago Ross couldn’t have been cast for his talents but rather his heartthrob status for maximum PR.

“So who’s the boyfriend?” Javi playfully side eyes you and you nudge your knee to his. “Can’t be me, too old for that.”

“Uh huh. Let’s see…” You pretend to think. “Man-friend? Lover?”

Javi groans and makes a face.

“Ooh, I know,” you look at him seductively. “Daddy.”

“Careful.” Fuck.

“Wow… I…” your eyes widen. This is definitely interesting. “...can’t wait to explore that.”

“It only sounds hot coming from you.”

Your breath catches in your throat. “Any cute nicknames for me?”

“Wouldn’t you like to know?” He throws you a teasing glance. “You could’ve found out an hour from now, give or take.” You look at him in question, so he continues. “I have a whole surprise planned – had.”

“Why didn’t you say anything?”

“‘Surprise’ being the key word there, babe.”

“I could tell them–”

“No, forget I said anything. Go have fun.”

“But–”

“Honey. We can’t exactly hang out with each other’s friends, so when you have the chance to be with them, you go, okay? I’ll be fine.” He might be seeing things but he swears he sees your eyes tear up… with relief. Why do you need permission so badly?

“Okay. I’ll see you later?”

“I can’t promise I’ll still be up. I’m ooooold.” He leans back on his chair, taking his time to admire you in your low cut dress under the guise of having a casual, professional conversation.

“Hm, so is it your idea or Óscar’s to go to the casino tomorrow? That’s some old people shit.” The lightness comes back in your tone.

“Noitsnot.” Javi answers too quickly.

“Yeah, right. Looking forward to playing the jackpot?”

“I’ll have you know I’ll sweep you at poker.”

“If you say so. I’ll make sure to wear something interesting to distract you.”

“That’s cheating but I’ll allow it.”

“And meanwhile,” you shift so he could get a better look at your cleavage. “Think about what could’ve happened if you’d told me your plans first.”

“Ah, so my usual thoughts. That’s easy.”

“Yeah, mine too.” Your voice drops to a whisper. “I didn’t come last night, daddy.”

He suppresses a groan. “Jesus fucking Christ.”

“I had to. You made me so wet.”

“I offered to take care of you, baby.”

“I know. That’s why I didn’t come. I wanted to wait for you.”

“Fuck.”

“Well, now we’re even. See you tomorrow.”

You get up and leave to join your friends, leaving him hard and wanting as he pulls out a new cigarette.

✧✧

Day 10

You are positively trying to kill him today. As if the thought of you touching yourself right under his room wasn’t enough to make his balls about to explode, now you’re lounging in the red one piece that drove him crazy a couple of months ago. He tries hard, very hard, to look at literally anything else. He hopes no one notices how long he’s been ‘taking pictures’ of the oceanic view.

And it gets worse. When it’s time to dress up to the nines for the night, he puts on a light blue suit jacket, but you… you go beyond what you promised. You arrive last to the casino and in that moment, it’s as if everything in the room stops. It stirs something in him too when he sees people checking you out as you walk past them.

“You look so handsome.” You tell him once you’re close enough. Óscar had gone straight to the high rollers table upon arrival, taking a few crew members on his dime. But Javi’s content with sitting around nursing his drink, waiting for you.

“This isn’t fair.” He gives you a quick once over.

“You like it?” You’re not usually one to wear something so revealing, but Javi makes you bold. You were saving this up for a proper date with him back in London, but there’s no time like the present. You can’t even be shy about showing so much because you need to elicit his reaction.

“It’s fucking fantastic.”

“You should see it on the floor.”

He drops his head and sighs heavily, then he points his drink towards the slot machines. “One round and we’re leaving.”

“What happened to poker? Are you chickening out?” You challenge him.

“No, but it takes much more time.”

“Excuses, excuses…” From here, you can see Óscar in your line of sight. “Why don’t we leave after he wins? Then he’ll be busy with the next round to notice us, right?”

“That’d be a while. He sucks.”

“Go and help him, then. Oh, how are we getting back?”

“We’re not. I’m getting us a suite.”

“I don’t know about that. It’s a lot less private around here. People talk.”

You’re right, and logistically it’s more difficult to explain both of your absences for the night and potentially tomorrow morning. The yacht isn’t an option, either.

“Let’s Uber, then.”

“Yeah, we can’t do that. It doesn’t work here.”

He studies your face while he calculates his options. “Sit tight, I have an idea.”

✧

The ‘idea’ turns out to be buying a fellow gambler’s car with his winnings. Of all things you expected to happen today, finding yourself in the backseat of a Pagani was not one. Javi was a few hundred thousand short but he didn’t think the guy cared that much. From the way he had been gawking at Javi and Óscar since they walked in, he probably would’ve given it away for free. His immaculate taste in cars was just a nice bonus. Plus, the color matches his suit.

“I just have to send his kids some signed merch and arrange them a tour of the Beskar set. Great deal, huh?”

“You billionaires are weird.” You shake your head in amusement.

He starts the car and the revving attracts a few passersby. “What did you tell Óscar?”

“That I’m tired and everyone else is busy having fun. He didn’t even blink.”

“Let’s hope they’ll keep him occupied ‘til tomorrow.”

The two of you ride in silence, enjoying the vast view of hills and sea, away from the city lights. Javi is relaxed and concentrated, and it gives you a warm, calm feeling seeing him this way.

“It’s been a long time since I drove a sports car. This is a vast improvement from the last one, though, definitely.” He looks over to your side, clearly enjoying his time. “Better looking passenger, too.”

“Pfft, come on! So cheesy.”

“I’m serious… It was with Nic.” Javi says with a chuckle. “You should’ve seen how everyone was looking at you.”

“Can’t say I noticed.”

“Hmm-mm. They were.”

“Did you like it? Or were you jealous?”

“Maybe. Maybe not.”

“I get jealous when I see other women checking you out. I’m not too proud to admit that.”

“But they don’t hold a candle to you. So don’t worry.”

“Same here. Don’t want anyone else.”

You caress his arm up to his shoulder where he turns his head to give your hand a kiss. Then you lightly travel down to tug at the buttons on his stomach, then his belt, then the zipper of his pants… you let out a soft moan when he involuntarily bucks towards your hand. Feeling brave, and to his surprise, you cup him over the material and he lets out a heavy groan.

“Behave, baby. You keep that up and we won’t make it there.”

“Okay, but drive faster. Feels so heavy, Javi. I want it all in me. Make it fit.” Turning him on turns you on.

His hands on the steering wheel turn white. “Fuck yes baby you’re gonna take it. Wearing that dress like you’re begging to be fucked. I knew everyone in there pictured your bare tits.”

Oh. Your jaw drops. That’s… unexpected. You squeeze him in response and he immediately takes away your hand to clasp it above his knee.

“You’re so fucking naughty. Teasing me every day.” Javi’s deep voice drops a few more octaves and it makes you squirm. “What happened to waiting, hm?”

“I can’t. I’m tired of fingering myself to sleep, every night.”

“Yeah? What did you think about when you did it?”

“Yours in me… mine aren’t thick enough, Javi,” you sigh from your own admission. “Your tongue. Feeling your mustache on me. You stretching m–”

You gasp when Javi suddenly grips your hand tightly. You’ve never seen Javi look this intense before. His nostrils flare, his eyes darken, and his breathing becomes so heavy you can hear it in the silence.

“Want you fucking my mouth, daddy,” you continue, making him grip you again to the point of almost hurting.

“You–” His mouth forms into a snarl. “You’re gonna kill me.”

You bring up his hand that grips you to run his thumb along your lips to nibble on it. You do the same to each finger, eyes looking at him putting all his effort into concentrating on the road ahead. He finally turns his head when you slip his middle finger past your lips to the knuckle, giving it a languid, sensual suck. A teaser of what’s to come.

“Fuck, baby. You have to stop.” Javi lets out a moan as he focuses back on the road and you keep swirling your tongue around him, rubbing the underside back and forth as if it were–

You have an idea.

You hope you won’t crash and die on these hills.

Your other hand makes a quick work hiking up your dress and your mouth lets go of his finger and you guide your hand and his between your thighs and–

Javi lets out an angry growl when his hand meets your soaked panties. “You get this wet from talking?”

“It’s you, Javi…” He starts rubbing you through the material and you throw your head back on the seat, moving your hips along with his movement.

Then you have another idea.

You recline the seat, shimmy your ruined panties off, and drape your leg over the console to spread yourself open. The cold that hits you is nothing compared to the warmth of his massive hand so close to your center. Javi’s eyes look like they’re about to bulge out of their sockets. He can’t see you clearly in the dark, but he can definitely feel your wetness on the leather.

“Please, Javi… I don’t wanna wait.”

Javi mutters something under his breath, his one hand on the wheel shaking. He didn’t plan on doing this here, or even tonight. He was going to surprise you with a private dinner the other night, and tonight he only wanted to take you back to the villa just so you could stop pretending you’re just coworkers when work is already done - for the time being, anyway. He thought it would be PG at best, but… he’s not complaining. But he’s driving, and he’s thisclose to losing control.

But on the other hand, is your exposed pussy begging for his touch. And Javi’s only a man.

So Javi decides to be a gentleman and give you what you ask for. He starts by running his hand over your mound, groaning at the smoothness. Then he moves his hand further down and spreads your wetness over his hand and yourself, fingers parting your lips along the way. You don’t dare to look down because even a mere glance of Javi’s hand working on you would make you come, you’re sure of it.

But you do anyway, just as his finger starts to rub your clit in circular motions, making you fall back on the seat with a loud moan. He continues and puts more pressure as you squirm and writhe, restrained by the seatbelt across your torso, keening sounds filling the small space.

He wishes he could watch you. Maybe he should pull over, get you off, then drive again after you’re both satisfied? But he really doesn’t wanna do it in a car that hasn’t even been his for an hour. You deserve better, somewhere more comfortable, even when you’re so desperate now.

Luckily the GPS says they’re only 5 minutes away.

5 minutes too long.

“Javi…” your pleading moan takes him back into the situation at hand, and he gets the hint. You need more.

So he gives you more. His middle finger prods your entrance and enters you without warning, making you bite your lip in pleasure. Your two that usually keep you busy on many lonely nights is nothing in comparison to his thick one. His knuckles on the steering wheel go white when you clench around him as he tries to find your spot without even looking in your direction.

3 minutes.

Should he, or should he not make you come? It’s fucking hot, seeing you grip the armrest and your toes curling, hearing you loudly cry when he adds another finger, the squelch of your pussy equally as loud as your wanton moans to his ears. DRIVEDRIVEDRIVEyouresocloseDRIVEsoclose

The GPS doesn’t even get to announce your arrival before he carelessly parks the car in the driveway. His fingers leave your core to your dismay and he doesn’t give you a moment before pulling his seatbelt off and lurches on to you, grabbing your face in a passionate kiss and smearing your wetness on his fingers on your neck.

“Javi…” you try to get a word in between kisses. “Let’s– let’sgoinsidebaby–”

Reluctantly he pulls back from you, eyes as dark as the night. With a heavy sigh, Javi exits the car and helps you out, your panties forgotten on the floor.

✧

Javi opens the front door and doesn’t even get to turn on the lights when a moaning sound from somewhere inside freezes you both.

“Óscar…?” Javi tries, as much as he knows it couldn’t be him. The moans persist and turn into groans. “Uh… stay here. Call security, please, honey.”

“NO!”

“Dieter?!” Javi says incredulously to which the man answers with another groan. You close the door and follow Javi to the living room.

“Hey, man. Sorry to crash.”

Dieter is passed out on the couch, hair strewn in every direction, barely dressed in a pair of boxers and a wrinkled green bathroom robe. He’s holding a corked bottle of wine that threatens to slip out of his grasp that he clearly struggled to open with his bare hands before. By his feet is a spilled, empty glass of whatever he was having and an unlit joint that already burned a hole through the velvet material. It’s a shitshow.

“How did you even get in here?”

“I climbed. Your security is shit.”

“Yeah, thanks. Why are you here?”

“Why are you so pissy?”

At that moment, you come into his view and Dieter’s reddened eyes stare at you quizzically before noticing your smeared lipstick… and your see-through front that you try to cover as much as you can with your very small clutch.

And then he has the audacity to drop his gaze onto Javi’s tented lap.

“Oooooohhhhh. No fucking way. You’re so dead.”

“Hi… Dieter.” You try to meet his eyes so he wouldn’t look anywhere else, particularly your… private area.

“Holy shit. Does Óscar know?”

You glance at Javi who keeps glaring at Dieter in anger. His patience is running thin.

“Dieter. What. Are. You. Doing. Here?”

“I got high and Elise threw a fucking fit because I was balls de– I was with my PA. Don’t look at me all judgy like that. You’re also tapping this hot piece of a–”

“Shut up!” Javi barks. “Don’t talk to her like that.”

“Chill the fuck out, Javi.” Dieter rolls his eyes and gives you a salute. “Great dress… beautiful dress.”

“Stop.”

“Okay. Damn.”

“Go back to your room, Dieter.”

“Can’t. She’s in there.”

“That’s your problem.”

“You go and fuck each other’s brains out. I’ll sit here and be quiet.”

“Out, Dieter. I give you ten seconds. Ten.” Javi starts counting.

“Really?”

“I’m getting a drink.” You announce to no one. Luckily there’s a throw blanket on the nearest chair and you’re able to swiftly cover yourself in it.

Dieter gets up and stumbles right behind you to the kitchen. “Great idea!”

“Hey!” Javi’s growl echoes throughout the house and he stalks after Dieter, grabbing him by the collar of his robe. “Nine.”

“Let go of me, man.”

“I’ve had it with you, Dieter. You got arrested, you ran off set, you mess around with my crew–”

“Oh and that rule doesn’t apply to you?”

“No, it doesn’t. I make the rules.”

“Yeah? I thought Óscar does.”

“Eight, Dieter. Watch it.”

“Hey, I never asked.” Dieter smirks at you. “How old are you? Twenty?”

“Four years ago, I was.” You tell him nonchalantly at the same time that Javi says “don’t answer him.”

Dieter looks over his shoulder at Javi and barks out a mocking laugh. “You have one year to leave him for Leo. Nice.”

“That’s it, we’re done.” Javi’s grip tightens on Dieter’s robe and he starts to drag him back out. All this male posturing is really wearing you off. You can’t take this back and forth between them anymore. This was supposed to be a fun night for you.

“I have seven more, don’t I?”

“Just… let him stay, Javi. I’m tired anyway.” You let out an exaggerated sigh and fill up another glass with water and put it on the kitchen island, motioning to Dieter that it’s for him. You bury your face in your hands, softly massaging your temples while Javi goes to stand by your side with his back facing Dieter. You reach out until you find his hand and you squeeze it softly, silently assuring him it’s not his fault.

The three of you stand around in silence while Dieter sips his water and Javi eventually stops clenching from anger. When he’s done drinking, Dieter finally looks like he knows what guilt is.

“Sorry for ruining your night.”

“Hmm.” “No shit.” You and Javi reply in unison.

“You two gonna tell Óscar about this?”

“None of your business.” Javi turns around to face him with a finality in his tone. “And whatever is going on with Elise, sort that out before we’re back to filming.”

“I don’t have any more scenes.”

“Yes, you do.”

“I’ve told you I’ve taken up that other job.”

“What other job?”

“Cliff Beasts.”

You snort and raise your head. “Cliff Beasts? Really?”

He shrugs. “Money’s good.”

“Use that for rehab.” Javi snarks.

“Who else is in it?” You sincerely wonder. You were too young to watch the original in theaters when it came out, but the franchise keeps getting more and more ridiculous with each sequel. You keep up just to understand the memes, like everyone does.

“The entire old cast is coming back. Even Carol Cobb.”

“Cool. Love her.”

“And new people your age. They keep telling me they’re from TikTok. What’s that?”

“Don’t worry about it.” You dismiss his question. He should stay in the dark about that. The world doesn’t deserve to witness Dieter’s shenanigans on that app.

You rinse your glass and pat Javi’s arm. “I’m going to bed.”

Javi watches you walk away and waits until you close your bedroom door before he scolds Dieter. “You saw nothing, heard nothing. No one will know about this.”

“Okay.”

“One slip up and I won’t vouch for you anymore.”

“Okay.”

“And you’ll be gone tomorrow morning before we’re up. Sort your shit out.”

“Heard you.”

Javi leaves him to go up to his room and he hears Dieter call out a thanks when he’s halfway past the stairs. He has no energy to acknowledge it.

✧

And gone before they’re up, he did. Óscar didn’t even see him when he finally got back around 7 AM and the rest of the day was spent shuffling around to pack. Javi had to arrange the shipment of the new car he acquired too. There was no time to talk about last night, or talk at all, because Javi’s private plane was already waiting on the tarmac for whenever they’re done and ready to leave.

Óscar is passed out from hangover across from him while you occupy the front of the plane. Busy on your phone, as usual. From his position he can somewhat make out an Escher-looking game. There’s only 30 minutes left before the plane lands in London and he has about 15 before Óscar wakes up.

“So,” he moves next to your seat and speaks in a whisper. “Where are you going after we land?”

“I have to check into my hotel. Why are we whispering?”

“Do you want to just stay at mine? For the rest of the shoot?”

It’s very tempting. But logistically it’ll only call attention to you. You can’t exactly get away with staying at the producer’s house for an entire month. It’s bad enough that Ava knows and now Dieter too. “And tell my PA what?”

“That you’re renting your own place? Staying with a friend?”

“They need to know where they’re picking me up every day.”

“That’s easy. I’ll drive you.”

“Yes, that won’t be suspicious at all.”

Javi sighs in defeat. You’re right, again. Óscar stirs in his seat and Javi waits until he stills again to propose his solution. Except Óscar doesn’t and is fully awake now and asking if they’re there yet.

“I’ll text you,” he mouths.

✧✧

London, three days later

What he proposed in the text didn’t come into fruition. He’d told you to check in, repack your necessities, and he’ll pick you up to go to his place. Only go to your hotel when you need new clothes. It’s not a bad idea, but it doesn’t matter anyway because you didn’t even get to unpack before Javi informed you that he’d be busy and couldn’t pick you up.

So you’ve been staying in your room, alone, since you got back, flicking through the script for next week and for a new series Javi sent you this morning. “Ten episodes, HBO. Whichever role you want.” You didn’t have the heart to tell him that it turns out acting doesn't interest you that much and someone else would be more grateful for the opportunity. He also told you he offered Dieter the same project, who accepted it on the spot. But Dieter needs to complete Cliff Beasts first before this starts production, so you have time until then to tell Javi.

Who is now calling you. You pick up on the first ring.

“Hey, baby.” His voice sounds tired and it’s barely dark. He’s been occupied with meetings and prep, hence his absence. “Wanna go for dinner in an hour?”

“I just finished eating room service. We could go for drinks, though?”

“I don’t wanna be buzzed. I need to be up early tomorrow,” he lets out a heavy sigh. “I miss you.”

Your heart aches, knowing the effort he puts into his work and how much it means to him and Óscar. You know how badly he wants his production company to be on par with the big league studios. You know how much thought and research and passion he puts into each of his films. All of that doesn’t even count running his family business on top of everything too - the legal one, the only one that still exists. It hasn’t been the same since a new guy took over from his ex and because of that Javi has to be more hands on in every decision making, or so he told you.

“Miss you too. Where are you right now?”

“Amsterdam.”

“Wait, what?!”

“Didn’t I tell you this morning?”

Definitely no, you would’ve remembered. “No, but– why?”

“Business stuff. Anyway, I’m about to take off.”

“Okay, umm…” You try to think of an idea quickly, still dumbfounded by the new information. “Why don’t you… come over tonight?”

“I’m just gonna disappoint you, babe. I’m so tired.”

“Oh, yeah, I don’t mean– we don’t have to– just have dinner here and sleep. Like, sleep sleep.”

There’s silence on the other hand as Javi thinks it over.

“Yeah. Sure. Okay.”

Two hours later, Javi rings on your door and you open it in your underwear and a loose t-shirt that doesn’t go past your waist. The way Javi’s eyes widen is so comical that you’d laugh if he didn’t immediately slam the door to pick you up and carry you to the bedroom, his lips finding yours as he does.

“Should’ve brought you with me… missed you so much.”

You whimper as you try to pry open his buttons.

“I really can’t, baby…” He pulls your fingers off him, kissing each one before he lets go and rolls over onto his back.

Next thing you know you hear his soft snores. His feet dangle from the bed and he’s still very much fully clothed.

You give him a chaste kiss and pull the blanket over your bodies and fall asleep too.

✧

You wake up to the soft buzzing of a hair dryer and a ring of the doorbell. The room is dimmed and it’s still dark outside. You get up groggily to get the door and walk past the dining table filled with freshly prepared breakfast. Neat.

There’s no one outside when you open it, but an inconspicuous brown paper bag sits on the floor with a note attached that addresses the package to a ‘Mr. José Estrada’. What…?

“That’s for me, babe.” Javi comes out of the bathroom in a towel folded up to above his stomach and his hair uncombed. It’s… adorable. You’re still not awake enough to appreciate it and merely raise your eyebrows at the name on the bag. Javi shrugs and takes the package from you. “Clothes. Just to be careful. Mornin’.”

He leans down to kiss you but you turn away, muttering about morning breath. He snickers and goes back in to change.

Javi is still in the living room having breakfast when you emerge again, freshly showered too. He’s in a pair of slacks and a white half-buttoned shirt, like he just got home from work instead of going to it. He looks too devastatingly handsome for this early. He guides you by the back of your knees to sit on his lap and you definitely, definitely wobble.

“What are you doing today?” You ask him while he peppers kisses on your neck.

“On set for half the day. Then I’m free.” He pulls back to stroke your cheek. “Stay at my place tonight? I’ll cook you dinner.”

The implication is clear in his eyes.

✧✧

Of course you didn’t get to find out what he was going to cook for you. What is it with the universe conspiring against you having a wholesome, uninterrupted night with this man? Okay, maybe that’s why, because you’re not really aiming for wholesome. Instead of his house, you’re at Carlotta with him and a few of his celebrity friends, including Dieter and Elise. It’s been three hours and the chatter has gone cold and the wine warm.

“...maybe it’s just like a month off? I don’t know what the big deal is.”

“Apparently the other unions are considering it too.”

“What else?”

“Directors, Writers, Visual Effects, who knows what else. It’s gonna be chaotic.”

You don’t even care what’s being talked about anymore. Someone needs to get the bill before smoke comes out of your ears. You know you didn’t have to be here, of course, but you didn’t want to wait around in your room either and you were hungry. Javi had called you from set to let you know about this last minute dinner that someone arranged in the guise of business networking. Óscar still had scenes to direct and told Javi to go on his own. He knew Javi had nothing to do for the rest of the day. And Javi couldn’t exactly tell him he actually had plans with you.

You weren’t pissed initially - you were enjoying yourself, even. But the two smartly dressed thirty-something women four tables over who have been eyefucking Javi for the past half hour? The statuesque former VS model who sent him a negroni and her Ritz room key? That’s not even his drink of choice, you sneer in your head. Nice try.

You’re not jealous of them, no, Javi is going home with someone at the end of the night and it’s not with any of them. But the way he looks right now and the way that he’s wanted, turn you on so much. That pisses you off. Because this dinner couldn’t finish soon enough.

“I’m gonna drop by Loulou’s after this, you wanna come?” Elise asks next to you. “Ross is already there.”

You look over to Javi… who is signing the check, thank fucking God.

✧

Neither of you even made it to his house last night.

He’d barely parked his car, that ostentatious blue thing, in his driveway when you climbed over the console to sit on his lap.

“Thank you for dinner,” you murmured into his exquisite neck, leaving a mark with your teeth. Tacky, you knew.

“You’re the only one who’s ever said that to me,” he looked at you with a hint of wistfulness. You felt a pang in your heart at his confession.

“Of course I’m grateful, Javi.” You kissed him softly while you twisted the curls around the nape of his neck. “I’ll show you how much.”

Then his phone rang.

And it was Óscar telling Javi to go to his place for last minute rewrites, again.

So regretfully, he had to drop you at your hotel on the way. And naturally this morning you woke up really, really annoyed.

“You know what, this is ridiculous.” You call him over lunch. Room service, again.

“I agree.”

“We should clear out our schedule.”

“Let’s do that.”

“You know I mean yours, right?”

Javi sighs. “I know. I’m gonna sort that out right now. How was your sleep?”

“Eh. I’ve had better. Yours?”

“Shitty. I passed out on the floor.”

“Damn.”

“Yeah. I’m getting a massage as we speak.”

“On set?”

Javi grunts and you snort in jealousy.

“Tell you what. Book a res–”

“Absolutely not. It’s never gonna happen if we go out, Javi. There’s always… something. Like… some kind of weird divine intervention.”

He giggles from the other side. Actually giggles.

“Don’t laugh, I’m serious.”

Which makes him fully laugh. “I’ve cleared out my week. I’m all yours.”

“I’ll believe it when I see it.”

“Daphne’s or Clos Maggiore?”

“Or.”

“Baby. Come on.”

“Let’s just… have coffee or something casual. That always works for us. Right?”

✧✧

It finally works. You spend the afternoon with him watching a movie at the Electric (and he booked out the entire place) and when you both couldn’t stop fooling around in the theater anymore, you make a run for the car.

“Yours or mine?”

“Yours. You wanted me in your bed.”

Javi wastes no time speeding to his house. It’s not a long drive, but Javi makes the most of it. He snakes his hand up your dress and rubs your inner thigh, making sure his knuckles brush along your clit while he’s at it. It drives you crazy, and by the time you arrive at his house, you’re already a panting mess.

He leads you up the stairs and into his bedroom, and you realize you haven’t been in it before. It’s not much of a difference from the room you’ve slept in aesthetic-wise, but it’s much bigger. Easily twice the size, plus a balcony with a small garden and a door that you assume leads to the bathroom and you don’t care what else because his lips are on yours and his hands are all over you as he walks you to the bed, pinning you down on it.

“I had better plans than this.” He croons into your ear and sucks a spot under the lobe.

You sigh into him. “It doesn’t matter now.”

Javi kisses along your jaw and lightly nips your chin. You grasp his shirt in surprise and he presses you deeper into the bed, making you even closer to him. His weight almost suffocates you, in a good way.

“You look fuckable in this, but it has to go.” He hooks a thumb under the strap of your velvet slip dress, your jacket long forgotten in the car. You nod, giving him permission, and he slips it past your shoulder, then past your tits still covered in a lacy strapless bra, then finally past your hips while he kisses the trail of exposed skin along the way. Javi groans loudly when he’s eye level with your crotch and he sees that your matching panties are soaked and that it’s a fucking thong.

“You are so pretty.” Javi kisses your mound over the material and hooks the string of your barely-there thong between his fingers, as if he’s contemplating whether he should take it off or take you in it. He grabs your thigh and slightly angles you to the side, tracing slowly to the one string swallowed between your cheeks, and his hand lands on your ass with a smack.

“Ah!” You exclaim in surprise and Javi takes the string just to snap it back on you with another light smack.

“Fucking pretty all over.”

“You haven’t seen anything yet.” You say breathily.

“I know, baby.” Javi murmurs in between mouthing and biting on your thigh and kneading your ass. You’re too busy sighing out your pleasure that you don’t see his other hand about to palm your mound under your panties until you feel it. Javi takes his mouth off of you and sits back on his knees to watch you squirm under his touch.

“Javi…”

“Yeah, baby?”

“I need you.”

“Hmm.” Javi continues grazing his fingers down to your lips, intentionally avoiding where you need him the most.

“Javi…” You fully lie on your back and spread your legs apart. “Take it off.”

Oh, how he’d love to. “I’m gonna take my time, honey.” Javi cups you over your panties and moves his palm up and down your pussy, spreading your wetness on yourself. “You made me wait. Now you wait.”

“Please, Javi. Touch me–”

“I am touching you.”

“I need you, please–”

“Love hearing you beg, baby.”

“Please please please–”

“Please what?”

You’re reduced to whimpering and you buck up your hips to meet his grounding palm. Your arousal is dripping even more now and it drives him crazy that you, the most beautiful woman that he’s ever laid eyes on and he’s wanted since that night in November, is on his bed. Begging for him.

Frustrated, you take the initiative to undo the front clasp of your bra. Javi stops his movements the moment he sees them and you swear his mouth drops open a little.

He’s had several ideas of what they would look like but his imagination doesn’t compare to the real thing. Yours are the perfect size for his hands and so soft under his touch. He runs his hand up between your cleavage before leaning down to take a nipple in his mouth. You writhe under him, arching your back as he nibbles and laps on it and kneads the other one.

“More,” you groan.

“No,” he growls against your soft flesh.

“No?”

“Be patient.” You let out a cry when he bites your underboob. “These are so pretty, baby.”

You moan and tangle your fingers in his hair until he finally takes pity on you. He kisses the valley between your breasts before capturing your lips and you wrap your arms around his neck.

“Javi,” you whisper in between his hungry kisses. “I need t– I need to come.”

“Same here.”

“Touch me.”

“Where?”

You guide his hand and let it rest between your legs, grinding onto his hand again.

“Use your words, baby.”

“Just make me come, Javi. Do whatever you want with me.”

Desperation drips from your words and not only does it make him harder than before, it makes him smug too. He sits up on his knees, taking you in spread out on his bed with a hazy fucked out look on your face. And he technically hasn’t done anything yet.

He undoes his cufflinks and pushes his sleeves up his veiny forearms. There’s something about the motion that makes him even sexier to you - and it makes you feel that way too. He pries open your thighs further and lowers his gaze down to your still covered pussy. You’ve dripped down onto his bed and he groans at the sight. He takes the strings between his fingers and slowly peels your thong off, much to your relief. He chucks it over his shoulder and drops onto his elbows.

“You are the most fucking gorgeous woman I’ve ever seen.”

You’re about to raise your head to see his face but before you manage to, you feel his tongue on your pussy.

“Oh, FUCK! Oh my god. Javi–” You grab a fistful of sheets under you as he slowly runs his tongue from your clit down to your entrance, and licks around your opening and tries to stick it into you. No one’s ever eaten you out like this before. It was usually one or two pathetic kitten licks before they get up and dangle their dicks in front of your face. No one is as thorough as Javi, who makes you feel his mouth and whiskers in spots of you that you didn’t know existed.

You don’t realize that you said it out loud until Javi suddenly stops and looks up at you with glistening lips… and mustache. You feel a fresh wave of wetness flooding at the sight. This is what you’ve been imagining every previous night before.

“Seriously?”

You don’t know if he’s confused or upset by what you said. Either way, you need him to go back to what he was doing. “Yes, Javi, please don’t stop.”

“You’re telling me you don’t usually get eaten out?”

“No, uh, not like this. Never like–” Your own moans cut you off as he goes back to pleasuring you and you cry out when you feel his nose bumps your clit. You’re lost in this new feeling. It’s true. Never like this.

But with Javi? Javi is enjoying himself. He eats you out like he can’t get enough and he can’t get to all parts of you that he wants to taste. He’s slow enough for you to feel every movement his tongue is making, but he picks it up at the right pace when he feels that you need more. You feel his hand slowly squeezing your right boob, and then your eyes fly open when he suddenly puts a thick finger in you. You let out a high pitched moan and buck up to his lips.

“Fuck yeah. Be as loud as you want. You perfect little thing.” Javi shallowly thrusts it in and out of you. “Yours really didn’t fill you enough, huh?”

No. No, they didn’t. Javi’s one finger fills you so well you wonder how you’re gonna even be satisfied with yourself ever again after this. He hits the spots you never reached and makes you beg, and beg, and beg for more.

So he gives you more. He starts sucking your clit at the same time that he adds another finger into you. You don’t know what kind of noises you’re making anymore but it’s deprived enough that Javi groans into your pussy and the vibration and his hot breath make you keen even more.

“Javi… faster, baby.”

“You’re not gonna come from my hand.” Javi says as he rolls your clit with his tongue.

“But I’m close.” You whimper.

“I know. You’re so tight, fuck.” Javi raises his head to look at his fingers going in and out of you. They’re slick with your juices and he feels you pulsating around them whenever he drags them out, as if to keep him from not being inside you. “Think you can take my cock? Hmm?”

You gasp out a moan and he retracts his fingers completely. You’re getting too close to the edge and he doesn’t want you to come like this, no. Not by fingers or his mouth. He wants to feel you around him when you do. But that doesn’t stop him from tonguing you again and massaging your clit with his thumb until you’re panting and tugging hard on his hair that it hurts. Before you could go over the edge, he climbs over you and cages you in his arms, his mouth once again on your tits and smearing them with your wetness from his lips.

“Javi,” you grab his face in your hands and stroke his patchy, graying beard. “Please.”

You claw at his shirt, trying to open his buttons with trembling hands. He’s still fully clothed and it’s not fair. You manage to get the top two but then he untangles himself from you to stand at the foot of the bed… to rummage through his drawers.

“Fuck, uh… um… fuck.” Javi reaches into another one, turning it inside out, and starts rifling through a spare wallet he finds inside. “I don’t have condoms. Wait here. I might have some downstairs.”

You crawl over to him and stand on your knees, continuing to open his buttons. “I’m on birth control, Javi. And I haven’t been with anyone, so…”

Javi looks at you with his doe eyes, filled with lust, while you shrug his shirt off him. Are you saying…?

“I want you bare.”

Well, fuck me. If Javi weren’t already hard as rock before, then he doesn’t know what this is now. He’s never been bare with anyone since… who cares. It doesn’t matter. Nothing else matters except you asking him to fuck you raw and now you’re palming him over his pants and literally, the world could be burning at this moment and Javi wouldn’t give a shit about it.

“Want you in my mouth, daddy.”

“No,” Javi groans painfully. There is no way he’s surviving tonight. “I’ll come on your face if you do that now.”

“Want that too.” You pepper him with kisses across his chest while you undo his belt and unzip his trousers. When you finally lower his pants along with his boxer briefs, your mouth waters. He’s bigger than you thought he’d be when you grabbed him in his car last week. You need him in you, right fucking now.

But first thing first… he’s gonna pay for not making you come. You’ve been so desperate since the theater and by the looks of it, he’s no different. The head of his cock is an angry red and leaking with precum. You swipe it clean with your tongue and Javi’s hand immediately finds the back of your neck. You take his hard erection in your hand and start to jerk him off slowly, building a pace that you know will drive him mad. Javi has his eyes closed and his eyebrows furrowed deep, holding back from thrusting into your hand.

You lick a long stripe from his balls to his tip and elicit a low moan from him. It’s addicting, listening to him. You do it a few more times until you feel his fingers curling on you.

“Javi…” You let go of him and kiss your way up his stomach instead. He involuntarily sucks in and opens his eyes to you slipping his cock past your lips. He doesn’t stop you. The groan that comes out of him is so sinful it’s going to be permanently etched in your brain. His hand on your neck finds your ass and kneads it when you start working him slowly with your mouth. You gag a little when he hits the back of your throat. He’s a lot to take in; you don’t even get to the hilt, and you count your blessings for that.

You’re suddenly pulled away with a pop. He’s throbbing and from his breathing, he doesn’t look like he’s going to last long.

“You’re so big, Javi. Does it feel as good as it tastes?”

You start to take him into your mouth again but he grabs your arm to haul you to the center of the bed. He settles himself on you, rubbing up and down your opening with his cock. You start to meet his movement but he pins your hips down, restricting you.

“Come on, we’ve waited long enough,” you whine.

He lets his weight fall on you completely and hums his answer with his face pressed against the crook of your neck. He keeps thrusting on your pussy and you’re so, so, so close to sobbing from need.

“Javi,” you whine again into his ear, arms clinging to his broad form.

Javi sits on his knees, watching you writhe underneath him. If he doesn’t come within one minute of being inside you, he’ll consider it a miracle. It’s his own fault for dragging it out this long and now he’s the one moments away from exploding. It’s worth it because you’re so fucking beautiful being all needy for him.

He grabs you closer by your calves and wraps your legs around his waist, cock notched right at your entrance. Javi pushes forward and the sound he makes when he enters you is the hottest thing you’ve ever heard. He works his way in slowly, letting you accommodate his girth. It’s a painful yet exquisite stretch.

You’ve never felt this full in your life. You’re not without experience, but the way Javi is filling you is something else. It’s not just his size, although that is a big part of it. It’s the way he’s gazing at you with so much tenderness. The way he’s moving as if he’s worshiping you with every stroke. The way he’s savoring this moment that you two have been waiting a ridiculously long time for. Your heart is full of–

“Baby. I don’t think I’ll last long.” Javi says with a strain in his voice. He’s holding back, with this languid (honestly, lazy) pace and he’s clenching his hands so hard you can see the veins in his forearms protruding.

“I don’t care, Javi, just fuck me.”

He groans and starts to build a pace, gripping your thighs open. You throw your head back and hold on to the pillow closest to you. Javi’s eyes are glued to your tits bouncing by the impact of his thrusts and he tries to think of something, anything, except for the way your perfect body is responding to him right now.

He remembers what you said about being essentially celibate since your last relationship and he doesn’t fight his curiosity. There’s a primal side of him that needs to know and the thought of your pathetic past conquests should buy him a couple more minutes, right?

“How long has it been for you, honey?”

“Mmmmm…” You roll your head back in pleasure, seemingly not hearing his question.

”When I ask something, I want an answer, sweetheart.”

“Two years? Mor–”

“Fucking unbelievable. This pussy should be fucked everyday, fuck.”

He curses between hard thrusts. Your mouth drops at his dirty talk and his pace increases to full on pounding. It doesn’t work. The thought of nothing having been inside you except for your own fingers and now him for that long is awakening something feral in him.

You yelp. “Oh fuck yes, Javi…”

“Yeah? You’re gonna let me fuck this everyday?”

“Whenever you want. Please.”

“You’re so needy.” He looks down to where you’re joined before grabbing your ass and driving into you even harder. “So needy and sloppy and so. fucking. tight.”

The moan you let out is downright the filthiest thing he’s ever heard. And you? You barely hear his deep, delicious voice over your own moans and the sounds your bodies make. You can’t do anything but take, take, and take. You wish you could reciprocate but what leaves your mouth is only a blabber of cries and whines.

“You want to come?” Javi’s question snaps you out of your daze.

“Please, baby.”

“Then touch yourself and come.”

Javi pulls out of you and you gasp from the sudden emptiness. You sit up to reach for him but he moves further to the edge of the bed, his hand fisting his cock and pinching the end slowly, trying not to lose it.

“Javi, what the fuck?” You exclaim in despair.

“Let me see you touch yourself, babe. Come like that or not at all.”

“Oh my God, Javi.” You fall back on the bed in frustration. There is no way this is happening. “No…”

“Come, and I’ll fuck you again.”

You start reluctantly touching yourself slowly, hoping he’ll take pity on you and take over again. But he stays where he is, looking at your face, not even your body.

“If that’s how you touch yourself, no wonder you’re unsatisfied. Come on, make yourself feel good.”

You groan in defeat and he chuckles at you amusingly. Fine. You dip two fingers into your pussy and start moving them the way you usually do, and your other hand drops to your clit to rub it with your index finger. Your peak is approaching in no time, between your own familiar movements and watching Javi watching you. You start to arch off the bed when you’re close and suddenly your hands are taken off you and you’re flipped onto your hands and knees.

Javi thrusts back inside you from behind without warning and resumes pounding you in earnest. “That’s right baby, take it… like you wanted… so fucking good for me…”

You come with a silent scream and Javi lets out a pained moan from you fluttering and spasming around his cock. His hands grip your waist to the point of almost hurting and he keeps steadily thrusting into you to seek his own release while you ride yours out.

He pulls you up against his chest by wrapping his arm around your tits and keeps hitting that devastatingly delicious spot inside you. With a few thrusts it starts you up again and you grind back on him, feeling the bump of his stomach on the small of your back with each contact. You look over your shoulder at his face and see that he’s in absolute bliss, but there’s something else there that’s a little bit… off. You don’t get to think too much about it once his fingers reach down to your clit and you start to tighten around his cock again, your hand reaching back to grab at his curls.

“I’m coming, sweetheart. Fuck. Come with me. Come with me, honey.” Javi’s pace grows desperate and he’s so deep, so right inside you that you beat him to it. You shudder in his arms, going limp, but he doesn’t let up. “Tell me where.”

You sigh dreamily while you catch your breath. “Anywhere you want, daddy.”

He pulls out and pushes you lightly to get back on your hands and knees and spills himself on the small of your back and between your cheeks. You lay down flat on your stomach, evening out your breaths, inhaling in the mixed scent of the two of you.

It takes Javi a couple of minutes to collect himself before he kisses along your shoulder, up to your neck, your jaw, and finally your lips.

“You’re so fucking good, babe. Tightest pussy I’ve ever fucked.”

You giggle tiredly and lean onto him, welcoming his kisses while he cleans you up with his discarded shirt. “I need a drink. Then I want to ride you.”

✧

For the next four days, you barely leave the bed except to eat or use the bathroom. Just like Javi had promised. He didn’t get to cook dinner for you yet, because it’ll take too much time away from being inside of you. Everyday it’s like clockwork: one of you wakes the other up with your mouth, followed by breakfast in bed, or vice versa. Then shower, where he eats you out - he insists that he’s making up for your lost time. In the afternoons, Javi does some work while you read scripts or his books or nap. Then dinner, followed by fucking each other to sleep. Sometimes you interrupt him mid-task or wake him up in the middle of the night just because. And repeat.

It’s pure fucking bliss.

✧✧

“Javi. Fuck.”

“What’s up?”

“Everything is shutting down. Everything. Where the fuck are you?” Óscar’s voice sounds panicked through the phone.

“I’m on leave, remember? What do you mean?”

“Strike, Javi. It’s all over the news. We gotta reschedule everything. We’re not even allowed to do anything.”

Javi swiftly opens his news app and sure enough, Óscar’s right. How did he miss this? Oh, right.

“Javi!!!”

“I’m here.”

“What do we do?”

Javi thinks for a moment but absolutely nothing comes to mind. This is completely novel for him. “We’ll figure it out. How long is this supposed to go on?”

“Two weeks. A month tops.”

“So there’s nothing to do. Keep everyone around, keep everyone updated, the usual.”

“We can’t, Javi. We’re not allowed to. We should just let them go for now, go see their families. They can’t be employed right now, same for us, by the way.”

“Dammit,” Javi runs a hand over his face. He’s only ever shut down production once, during The Last Sicario, when a rival family member felt misrepresented by his depiction of them and sent death threats to him and the crew. “Call it. Keep me posted.”

“Sure. One more thing, have you heard from our little starlet? I tried calling her all day, and her PA couldn’t reach her either. Her hotel said she’s not there.”

“Staying with a friend, maybe?” Javi feigns cluelessness.

“Can you try her? Let her know we’ll help her figure it out while this is going on.”

“Yeah, okay.”

“Thanks, hermano.”

Guilt overcomes him once he hangs up and looks at you sleeping soundly, and naked, next to him. He’s betraying the closest friend he ever had and there would be no coming back from this if he found out.

✧✧✧

Join the taglist HERE!

@amneris21 @beaucannon @curiouskeyboard @dontshouthisnamelikehesathing @just-here-for-the-moment @lovesbiggerthanpride @pedrostories @pjkimrn @tanzthompson @thereisaplaceintheheart @trickstersp8 @saintbedelia @bxmaaa @brilliantopposite187 @mswarriorbabe80 @extrovertineedofhelp @harriedandharassed @1andthesame @hannannannannannah @littlemisspascal @peach-child @peaches-roses-sins @queridopascal @saintcooper @sherala007 @spideysimpossiblegirl @wardenparker

#fic: indiscreet #pedro pascal #pedro pascal fanfiction #pedro pascal x you #pedro pascal x reader #the unbearable weight of massive talent #javi gutierrez fanfiction #javi g fanfiction #javi gutierrez x reader #javi gutierrez x you #javi g x reader #javi g x you #pedrostories #pedro pascal smut #dieter bravo #the bubble #hollywood au

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paperback-rascal · 1 year

Photo

SLEEPER: “commander Mercy is pretty pissed...”

REX: “I’m... sorry?”

40: “It’s his own fault! He is just searching for his heavy-duty face masks, he put away SOMEWHERE.”

501st got a mission to extract an informant. After securing the holding cell, it turned out they are frozen in carbonite. Thinking nothing of it, as 501st used carbon freezing as a mean to get past security scans, Anakin ordered to unfreeze them. However, within few hours, the individual’s health deteriorated fast. Kix believed it’s due to the carbon sickness.

After few days, the informant died.

Meanwhile few clones starts to feel unwell with cold-like symptoms. 501st medics dismissed it, blaming it on the weather conditions of planet they are currently stationed. However it wouldn’t hurt to ask for a second opinion. 501st medical send out a message that if anyone could aid them with the issues they would gladly accept the help.

The “distress” call was picked up by 347th which, at the time, was en-route for Coruscant, coming back from a relief mission, but they agreed to aid 501st (which would later turn south, because coming BACK from a mission means, their resources were depleted).

On site, the morale was very high - Regiment’s medics brought a friendly banter to the sneezing Legion - Light-hearted jokes on 501st expense... because what kind of wuss make such a big deal out of a simple cold?

Per usual, Blood Loss, as paranoid as he was, checked all the medical data of last few days and stumbles upon the report about the dead informant. He immediately goes into the panic mode (he is skeptical about the cause of death being carbon sickness), warns 40 about the unaccounted death. 40 hits the medical with the question why they weren’t informed about it. Coric nonchalantly explains why 501st medical team didn’t think it was something worth noting to 347th.

40 decided to bring that matter to his commander, Mercy, who proceed with putting both GAR units to a quarantine “just in case”, Anakin is fussy about the decision, but all in all medics outranked everyone.

No GAR unit had ever seen 347th working in “full scale lock-down mode” - with them wearing sealed suits with oxygen tanks, Mercy with an actual face mask (instead of his usual bandana), medics were running (rapid) testing and checking medical records, but also trying to mitigate panic levels - especially since it was an open secret that 501st can get unpredictable and crafty when least expected.

It turned out Rex was one of few people in high-risk group of contracting the aforementioned disease, due to the lingering effects of Blue Shadow Virus which resulted in weakened immune system. But also, because of decreased lung capacity after he was shot in the chest earlier in the war (and crudely healed with bacta patches in a filthy barn in the middle of nowhere).

Anakin was in the high-risk group as well, due to him having lowered immune system as he was born and raised on Tattooine - at the time he was not exposed to many illnesses common to children of Coruscant. On top of being a slave (thus poor nutrition and no vaccination as a child). Not to mention he was electrocuted more times than once which was an issue in and of itself.

Lock-down procedures required Rex and Anakin to be moved to isolation wards... as a precaution.

Then sneezing, turn to coughs which intensified with time, turned violent and... rusty.

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see more post about 347th and 501st quarantine storyline here -> [LINK] <-

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see more posts about 347th regiment here -> [LINK] <-

===

STAR WARS: The Clone Wars/The Bad Batch © George Lucas/ Dave Filoni/ LucasFilm/ Disney

#star wars #347th regiment #The clone wars #clone wars #TCW #captain rex #commander rex #rex #clone trooper OC #CT-7567 #clone medic OC #fanart #fancomics #347-501-quarantine

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richiethelesbian · 6 months

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KENTUCKIANS! VOTING IS NEXT WEEK TODAY!

Election day is November 7th, from 6 am to 6 pm!!

The Committee for Fairness and Individual Rights, also known as C-FAIR, endorses these candidates as having the best interests of marginalized Kentuckians:

Governor: Andy Beshear. Notable for putting Kentucky under quarantine during 2020, standing with Black Lives Matter, and vetoing the SB150 ("Don't Say Gay Bill").

Lt. Governor: Jacqueline Coleman. Notable for working to waive the fee for adults seeking their GED and securing over $40 million to increase student mental health resources.

Secretary of State: Buddy Wheatley. Notable for legally representing worker's unions and advocating for eliminating voter restrictions by opening more polling locations.

Attorney General: Pamela Stevenson. Notable for sponsoring HB98, which would improve harm reduction centers and reduce the penalty for controlled substance use, and HB293, which would prohibit discrimination based on sexual orientation or gender identity.

Auditor of Public Accounts: Kim Reeder. Notable for her teaching career in disadvantage Kentucky schools despite holding prestigious degrees from Yale, Duke, and North Carolina Universities.

Treasurer: Michael Bowman. Notable for his plans to fund financial literacy programs and legalization of cannabis.

Commissioner of Agriculture: Sierra Enlow. Notable for her work as the economic development manager of Louisville Metro Government and Greater Louisville Inc., as well as serving on the Kentucky Association for Economic Development board.

#kentucky #election #kentucky election #kentucky rambles #queer kentucky #trans kentucky #please vote #vote blue

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thegreenhordes · 2 months

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Twilight's Notes: What is Known

What is known of 'The Glow' infection: - The Glow, Also known as Pustule Pox, Green Horde Disease, or The ████████ Contagion, so far eludes me as to where exactly it emerged. Subject ████████ ███████ has informed me ground zero's location, but has no clue at this time what the true beginnings were. If I could get to Ground Zero without putting everypony at risk, I would. - Through either sheer luck or early treatment with common medicines, an infected pony has anywhere between a 5-40 percent chance of recovering during the early infection stage. The more aggressive the medical treatments, the better the results. There are currently 6 recovered ponies in camp- there were 7, but unfortunately the permanent symptoms of early infection leaves recovered ponies vulnerable. Granny Smith was up in her years, and simply couldn't recover from the cold she caught. It was a miracle on its own that she survived being infected by The Glow. - Samples of infectious material shows that this contagion is in a constant state of mutation. Given that there are already two separate stages as of now, I wouldn't be shocked if more popped up in the future... - Animals infected by The Glow do not progress pass the initial infection stage, though the symptoms persist as a chronic condition just the same as a recovered pony. Poor Spike, I'm just glad he's still with us. - Attempting treatment via magic results in death of the subject, Discord's chaos magic appears to be ignored by the infection, save during a few instances where his abilities accelerated the infection tenfold. Discord seems to be naturally immune, however- if he wasn't such a scaredy-pants about needles I'd be able to study his immunity better.

Current Treatment plan for early infection: - Rest and medication (those used for things like the common cold, the flu, and pneumonia appear to be the most effective.) - Quarantine, This not only prevents them from infecting others, but keeping patients in a sterile environment alongside the previously noted rest and medicine have had the most promising results. So far the simple treatment plan is our best bet, aggressively and frequently administering medication has been the main cause for the camp having any recovered ponies at all. I do hope to find something with a higher success rate however- Preventing progression is one of our best chances to get this under control again- permanently this time.

Subjects (Infected under study as of the past month): - Cheerilee: Dead, died of malnutrition as a stage 3 'Growler' - Sweetie Drops: Alive, Stage 2 Type 2, Mute. Her vitals are fine for now, but she's becoming more and more prone to stalking behavior, and we've had to install a second door to her room for security. - Bow Hothoof: Alive, Stage 1 Growler, Progressing fast towards Stage 2. Rainbow Dash was devastated when her dad arrived with news of her mom's death and a bite on his right front leg. We tried to help him recover but he was too late into the early infection and progressed to stage 1 within days. He said he 'Just wanted to see his daughter again'. Rainbow Dash spends a lot of time talking to him through the glass of his room. - Fluffy Clouds: Dead, entered Stage 4 of Type 2 and had to be put down. Type 2 infected are too dangerous. Type 1 'Growlers' might be strong and powerful hunters, but I Don't feel comfortable having a Stage 4 Type 2 under long-term observation right now. - Nurse Redheart: Alive, Unfortunately infected when Cheerilee unexpectedly entered Stage 2 faster than usual and bit her. Something is off about her, I can never get a good look at her because she says the light hurts her and they're kept off in and around her room as a result. If I do turn the lights on for talk sessions or to try and get samples she hides under her bed. In either instance she just.... stares. Her eyes glow stronger than a Type 2, and she is eerily quiet most of the time, in a way that makes me want to be quiet and hide when I'm near her room. She might be a new infected Type, but until I can safely get an actual sample from her I can't know. She doesn't have pustules on the outside of her body either- They seem to glow from within her, and I see them inside her mouth whenever she speaks.

Number of infected who died under my care since the outbreak started: Fifty. The more that number grows, the worse I feel. I hope the other princesses have good news for me soon, this is all starting to wear me down.

#Twilight's Research notes #not art #the glow #mlp infection au #the mane six will show up in the art on my blog eventually- but until then enjoy getting written peeks into their lives currently

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justrainandcoffee · 3 months

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Like roses and bread (Alfie Solomons x fem!oc + Luca Changretta) [Part 1.]

«Crime sometimes smells like roses and bread...»

Alfie Solomons x Rose Coldwell (ofc) masterlist

Summary: Crime not always involved murder. Sometimes it's something harmless for the rest of the world, like money laundering. The problem is that now, a private detective is behind them and for the first time maybe they're about to be exposed. The couple needs to be smarter than Detective Changretta, something not easy at all. Not even with the help of Alfie's ex: Tommy Shelby.

Warnings: None. || Next chapters Tommy will be part of it.

Words: 1.8 k || Series Masterlist

2021

A bald man was sitting in front of Detective Changretta. The day before he called him asking for an appointment and Luca agreed.

The man was in his 40s and his clothes were smart. He tried to hide it, but Luca could see an expensive gold watch and his perfume was clearly one of the finest you could find.

Something about him disgusted Luca. He was arrogant and the kind of man who thinks he's superior to the rest of the humankind.

The kind of man Luca despised.

Luca's orange cat named Dante jumped on the desk and the man tried to push it but when Luca stand up, the man thought it better.

"If you don't like my cats, Mr. Ferguson, then you should've read the sign on my door first. If I were you, I'll think twice before trying to do it again."

"I'm allergic."

"Not my problem. There's the door, go to another place, find another detective. There are thousands."

Ferguson shook his head. "You're the best, that's what people say. My boss needs the best."

"Yes, your boss. Talk to me about him. Who's your daddy?"

His client gritted his teeth. If the detective weren't so prestigious, then Ferguson could spit on that face. Luca Changretta was nothing but a cockroach compared to him. Fuck him and his ugly cats. And yet, Ferguson answered to him.

"It doesn't matter who he is. He wants to remain anonymous. The thing that matters is the people who you need to investigate."

"The owner of the Inn: Alfred Solomons." Luca checked the notes he wrote the day before.

"Yes. And his woman."

"Just two civilians. I don't investigate people who just work, Ferguson."

"That's the problem. They're not just two civilians…at least him. We don't know the woman but we suspect that she's his accomplice."

"Of what exactly?"

"He stole money from my boss' account." Ferguson, cleared his throat "last year, during the quarantine. In June."

"Really? How?"

"Solomons played dirty. My boss didn't know the kind of man he is. Solomons is a corrupt man!" One of the veins in his head was throbbing.

"And so is your boss. I don't think he's a little lamb."

"How dare you! He's a good man, a man who cares about people."

"Yes, sure." Luca rolled his eyes "Do you know I'm not cheap, Ferguson? Don't you? High quality equals high price. I want 60% in advance plus extra cash because I'm about to be a father, so, my baby needs a present. I know you can afford it. Do it for her."

Luca stared at him. Ferguson disliked him and it was mutual but he needed the job and that's why he accepted the case. It was true that he was going to be a father. His ex wife was pregnant and the baby was his. Despite they were exes, one night they shared a moment together and that same night she got pregnant. Now, eight months later, Cathy was waiting to arrive in their lives. And for Luca, both mother and daughter, deserved the best.

Ferguson gave him a cheque, before standing up and walking towards the door "Just do your job, detective Changretta."

"Just don't be an asshole, Ferguson."

Never trust a person who doesn't like cats, thought Luca. And Ferguson, clearly, disliked cats.

In the same city, but far away, Rose were working on their new place. The inn "The Wandering Jew" was open and Alfie was, of course, still his owner. But at the same time they opened a bakery months ago called "Cyril's cakes."

It was a project that both of them thought about during 2020 and finally it was real. And it was quite successful, too. They had to hired another baker to help Alfie while Rose was in charge of the customers.

Nicely decorated, delicate colours and always smelling like fresh bread, "Cyril's cakes" was famous for having a statue of Cyril itself. People, kids especially, used to take pictures next to it. The real dog was never there, so, for customers that was the nearest they could be to him.

That particular morning, she smiled when saw Alfie crossing the door. They've been together for over a year now and even when it was quite recently, it felt like much more than that.

Alfie removed his mask to gave her a kiss. COVID was still a real thing and every precaution was necessary. Still, he didn't want to waste another minute to greeted her. Not that she resisted him.

"Fucking missed you. Horrible day," she let him put his arms around her waist "Karens everywhere."

"Story of my life," he responded, kissing her now blonde hair. "I'm here now, love. Anything new?"

She shook her head. It was an ordinary day and apparently it wasn't going to change. In fact, the whole week was ordinary. Until, it wasn't anymore.

That morning at the bakery had been the calmest of the week, which Rose was grateful for, considering that dealing with difficult customers took a lot of her energy. Of the list of people who had placed an order for that day, five of the six had already gone to pick up their cakes. So only one remained. The rest of the customers were just casuals who were just dropping in to buy something before going on their way to work or back home.

Rose was texting her brother when a tall, thin man made her lift her head. His curious hazel eyes were looking around him and had a mysterious aura. Behind his mask, Rose could notice that he was smiling.

"Good afternoon, miss."

"Good afternoon, sir. How can I help you?"

Luca looked at her. He assumed that she was Alfie Solomons' girlfriend although, for the moment, he knew nothing about her. Not even the name but he did know that the woman worked there.

"I ordered a cake two days ago. I'm Vicente Young." Luca said. He used his father's name and his ex's last name to cover his real identity.

There was the last of those who had placed an order. It was a chocolate cake with cherries, simple but tasty. She asked him to wait while she went to the refrigerator at the back of the bakery. Luca just nodded.

There was nothing in particular that caught his attention and definitely if what Ferguson said was true, then the evidence wasn't going to find it there. Still, pretending to be looking at his phone, Luca snapped several pictures of the place. Including Rose. Luca tucked his device into his pocket just as the man of interest appeared behind her.

Alfie Solomons was there. Wearing a flour covered apron that he took off and left on the back of the chair where Rose was sitting moments before.

"I have to go with Ollie," he said "the boy doesn't know how much one plus one is. But it's all done."

"Ok. I'll see you at home later then. Take care of yourself. Love you."

"Love you too. See you."

Alfie barely glanced at Luca as he passed, just gave a nod of his head by way of greeting and continued walking out of there.

"Your husband?" Luca smiled amicably, trying to take information away from her.

"No," Rose replied, letting out a chuckle "We've only known each other for a year."

"So you met during the pandemic?"

"Yes. Long story. I was stranded in London and during that time I met him and well, a year later here I am."

"A good 2020, then, more than most people can say. He's the one who's in charge of baking?"

"Yes. Cooking in general is not really my best ability, let alone baking. But he's really good and enjoys it," Rose's phone on the counter began to vibrate. The incoming call cut off the conversation between Luca and her.

Luca pretended to look for money or a card in his wallet to pay for the cake while she took the call. The detective didn't know who was on the other end of the line but clearly the woman had been forced to give her name and in the process, Luca had saved himself a step in finding out her identity. So Alfie Solomons was dating Rose Coldwell who, according to her, had been stranded in London the previous year and had been there ever since. The detective was still amazed at how easy it was to get information if you knew how. People, as a rule, were too trusting.

Luca said goodbye to her after paying and left. For a first meeting that wasn't bad at all. In addition to the two names of the people he was interested in he had gotten a third: an Ollie who he would find out who he was. He needed to go back to his office and use one of his whiteboards exclusively for this case he called "bread and roses."

There were times when the work was repetitive, but this didn't seem to be one of them. If there really was something illegal behind this recent pairing then there were also more people involved than just the two of them. There were always more people, the issue was who. And finding out was the best part of it all.

He thought about going to see Aveline. But at that hour, Linnie was sure to be taking care of her sick mother so he decided to see her later and ask her personally if she needed anything. For the time being, he would go back to the office .

The sun had been out for at least half an hour. Cyril's cakes was already closed for customers and Rose was ready to finally rest on her couch, cuddling next to Alfie. That was the best part of the day. Rose had secured the door and was pulling down the blind when something that looked like a rock hit her shoulder, causing her to groan in pain. But when she turned to see what was happening, she only saw a hooded figure running away.

"What the…"

The rock on the floor was wrapped in paper and she picked it up. Only two words were written on it:

Enough to make her heart beat fast. We know.

Rose quickly got into the car and drove home. Now she really needed to see Alfie.

We know.

#alfie solomons #alfie solomons x ofc #alfie solomons x oc #peaky blinders #tom hardy #peaky blinders x oc #modern au #luca changretta #luca changretta x oc #tommy shelby

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lightlycareless · 5 months

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First, it hurts— Chapter XXXIX

Naoya Zen’in x Fem!Reader

While arranged marriages are not uncommon in the jujutsu community, it was strange to receive a proposal from none other than the Zen’in’s, nonetheless your clan accepted and before you knew it, you were married off to Naoya.

Your new purpose was clear: to serve and submit, to be seen and not heard. To forget any sense of individuality in favor of obeying your husband.

Will this marriage ever flourish into something else? Will it change…for better or for worse?

Chapter warnings: there’s a lot of disdain from a particular someone, another person trying his best to do something, a bit of ooc I guess… and mentions of SA, abuse. AAAAND I think that’s about it. It get’s somewhat heavy in the end.

A/N: None heheheheh.

Now, without any further ado, happy reading! 🥰

Masterlist ➸ Chapter 40

Ao3 link.

It all started with a cough.

It happened whilst working with Haruko, trying to perfect your cooking skills. Soon after you sprayed some spices onto the dish you were preparing you started to wheeze.

The two laughed, especially when your face just kept getting red, subsequently doing a particularly funny scowl that had her howling at that point.

But outside of that, nothing—there was no suspicion of something else, so you left it at that.

The second time around, however, is when everyone around grew slightly concerned, when you began to feel a bit under the weather, evident by the way you struggled to complete your everyday activities, having to retire early for the day, and wanting nothing else to do but lay in bed and sleep.

By the third instance, the symptoms became all too obvious to ignore, uncloaking a shocking revelation:

You were sick.

Even with all the great care that you and your staff took, you still got sick.

You truly believed you’ve been careful enough to avoid that—however, after spending 7 days tending to a sick person, permitting him to get that close… it was only natural that you’d suffer some repercussions.

As if he hasn’t influenced your life enough, this also had to happen.

The only fortunate thing to come out of this, would have to be the lower degree of your sickness; you weren’t as… “delirious” as he’d been, certainly still in control of your behavior, which makes you wonder if Naoya’s softness was nothing but an act…

Well, whatever it was, there’s no denying you’re in a tight spot yet again, forced to quarantine inside you room and delay your responsibilities—something of a double-edged sword kind of thing, but only for Junko, because she didn’t take long to voice her opinion on your supposed carelessness.

“I thought I told you to be careful!” she’d scold “Now you’ve gone ahead and gotten sick, who else is going to be in the same predicament?!”

You hadn’t even considered it until she brought it up, immediately making you worried about their health. What if you accidentally made them sick as well? They couldn’t afford to not work!

Thankfully, the time it took the virus to settle in you, was the same for your ladies, so if they were to get sick they would’ve done so by now.

You don’t think you’d be able to live with yourself if that happened.

And even then, that was not to be your biggest worry yet.

What preoccupied you the most was the fact that Hitomi and Mariya had not been able to get along since the latter’s secret was revealed.

Haruko, even when taken aback by this revelation, was still able to show her support for the two and even try to mend things between the two, for in her own words, Mariya has done enough for the rest, she deserves something for herself.

Coincidentally it was the same thing Mariya’s parents told her when she revealed her new relationship to them. She’s never been one to get things for herself, always wanting to comply with what others wanted, or the greater good, a bit of a people pleaser if you must.

That only changed when Tatsuro introduced himself into her life—it took a while for her to accept him, as well as the risks this relationship entailed per their contract, but she eventually made up her mind and the rest is history.

Now… It was time to deal with Hitomi’s disapproval, which felt a bit more nerve wracking to Mariya than the time she had to tell her parents about Tatsuro!

You still didn’t understand why Hitomi had reacted so strongly to her predicament, but after much observation, you were able to place the pieces together:

Turns out that Mariya’s situation hit a bit too close to home for her. Apparently, Haruko, Hitomi and her mother grew to be very close after their father had abandoned them, with the seamstress being the most overprotective of the three, doing everything in her power to avoid a similar situation from happening.

She grew to believe that it would always be the 3 of them… until her mother decided to settle down with another man.

It was only natural that she’d move on when she felt the time was right, Haruko even encouraging for her sake. But when it came to Hitomi, well, she couldn’t help but perceive it as a betrayal of sorts, like her efforts had been all for naught, sentiments discarded to the side…

Hitomi couldn’t wrap her head around the fact that her mother had willingly put herself in a position that might compromise her yet again—Of course, those are things that no one knows with certainty when they’ll happen, if they ever do… but Hitomi was not one to wait and find out.

The similarities between Mariya and her mother, although subtle, were still there, but Haruko presumes there’s an ulterior reason behind her behavior…

“I don’t think she ever accepted him” Haruko disclosed the day it was her turn to tend to you. “She tolerated him the most when our baby sister was born, but even then… she always keeps her distance from him—maybe this is her way to show her discomfort… It’s a shame Mariya had to be caught in the middle of it”

In that sense, it was nothing but understandable… not justified, but it gave you a deeper insight of what was going inside Hitomi’s mind. However, when you supposed things would’ve cooled down by now, tension between the two seemed to be as lively as ever, and Mariya was not enjoying it at all .

“As soon as I’m near her she turns around and leaves” She’d confide in you in the middle of the night, the usual time for your reunions with her. “Whether she’s alone or with someone else, it doesn’t matter, she doesn’t want to speak to me. It’s like she barely even knows me…”

You press your lips—seeing your staff ruptured like this hurt you, more so because you believe you are responsible for such a thing. Had you been careful with your words, what you said and when you said it, Mariya would’ve never found herself in this situation.

Unfortunately, your guilt only grows when your condition binds you to your room. You literally feel both entrapped and useless in this small prison while Mariya and Haruko were out there, trying to mend this situation to the best of their capabilities. Maybe, if just maybe, you were able to talk to Hitomi more than just a few instances a day, get her to be a bit more empathetic to Mariya’s situation…

Oh, but who are you trying to fool? Haruko has more likely than not already tried that… failing miserably due to the results afterwards, given how they still struggle to keep communication between the two… besides, it’s not like you’re some kind of sait that could easily change someone’s outview in something. If you were, Naoya would be a completely different man.

…

Guess all you could do is wait and see what happens next.

“But don’t worry about that, Y/N. You should rest.” she says while giving you a tight smile. “A good night’s sleep can never do harm”

“…I guess so” you respond, sighing. Those things have historically always been easier said than done, but if there’s nothing else to converse about that, you suppose you could indulge in your curiosity for the outside world.

From a few days forward you’ve been hearing lots of commotion around the estate, so naturally, you had to ask.

“What’s going on out there? Seems like the estate is being turned inside out or something…”

“Oh! Right, the masters are getting ready to leave the estate. They always do around this time, the end of October”

“End of october…” you repeat, surprised it’s already October. Has it been that long…? “Where most sorcerers, if not all, are deployed.”

Except Naoya, who you assumed to be staying behind because of his suspension. Great.

“So I heard” Mariya responds “Do you know the deal behind it?”

“It’s just because of Halloween” you explain “People tend to be… some, not all, very irresponsible with the dead around this time. Doesn’t help that it’s also one of the days with the most spiritual energy, so sorcerers have to keep an eye out for anything.”

“Now that you mention it, people do tend to mock the afterlife quite a bit… seems tiring to act as babysitter to them—Did you ever get a chance to work this time?”

No. This was supposed to be your first year doing so, actually. Another experience down the drain thanks to your new life.

“No, but my siblings and parents did. And yeah, it’s exhausting. Sometimes I wouldn’t even get to see them for days! It tends to be very demanding…”

“Makes sense why the whole estate is emptied then, but it’s a nice change of pace for us the staff. Less work” The two chuckle.

“What about the rest?” you change topics. “How’s Mai and Maki? I haven’t seen them in a while…”

“They’re fine, doing what they always do, school, chores, make Junko-san crazy… that kind of stuff” Mariya shrugs, you giggle. “However… after hearing you were sick, the’ve insisted in seeing you”

“Really?” you ask, delighted that even though you haven’t seen them as much, they still have you in their thoughts.

“Yeah, although their mother won’t allow it, but she did allow them to give you this ” Mariya says, taking out an envelope from her obi and handing it to you. You then open it by carefully ripping the edges, taking out the letter and relishing in the lovely contents they made just for you.

A crayola painted sunflower garden can be seen across the white paper, in the middle, there's a smiling figure presumed to be you, given the name written on top of it, accompanied by two little girls (them of course) equally happy, standing on each side. Lastly, in the upper area, large scribbled letters read the following message:

Get well soon.

Your heart swoons at the gesture, already knowing this is something that will remain dear to you in years to come.

Even when in the estate, through all the things you’ve suffered… you still managed to find people that genuinely care for you—and once again, you can’t do much to repay their kindness outside of thanking them.

Had you only met them through different circumstances, you would’ve been able to enjoy their presence much more than you already did, making sure to return all of their affections the appropriate way.

But what attached you to this reality wouldn’t allow it just yet, a sour reminder that even with their efforts, your husband will still make you miserable.

And not only that, he’ll take whatever happiness you have and taint it, make a mockery of it, before completely destroying it.

You never asked for much in the past, but now, all you could ever hope for is his disappearance, the moment he’ll finally leave you alone for once in your life!

But you know that won’t happen, at least not soon, because of all things, persistent is what he’s mostly known for.

You probably already knew this, or presumed it at least, but Naoya remembers most, if not all, of that week he spent along with you while sick.

He remembers how you were there, every single day, just for his aid—There was no way he could forget, after all, your aura, your presence, and it’s hypnotizing effect was too hard to ignore; from the very moment he met you and up to now, it’s remained imprinted in his heart.

How you came rushing to him when his fever got worse, how you stayed throughout the whole night, how you fed him, clothed him, how you patiently explained what you were doing whilst working, and how warm you felt in his arms…

He remembers everything.

Yes, even the promise he made regarding your family.

…And how much he regretted telling you he didn’t.

He doesn’t know why he did it, why he suggested something he should’ve never done in the first place.

But he couldn’t stop himself, he couldn’t stop his heart from aching upon seeing the melancholic look on your face as you spoke about them. It pained him to see you like that, so… hopeless, lonely , that it evoked something in him and thus, spoke carelessly.

Yet, it was not meant to be—there was too much at stake to have made such a promise so foolishly; so many things to keep hidden from you.

Even if it greatly hurt him to see the hope diminishing from your eyes, and subsequently out of his sight the following days, he had to do it. It was safer that way.

But for who?

For you—or for him?

This, amongst other existential questions, have been plaguing him since the moment you openly denounced him. And unfortunately for him, he doesn’t have Ranta to ease these burdens from his mind, leaving him to reflect on his actions and come to conclusions by himself.

It wasn’t nice, to have to take a good look at himself and realize just how different this marriage turned out to be compared to what he initially envisioned.

He didn’t want to think about it at first, doing everything in his power to avoid dwelling on the thought for more than a second—but after that terrible nightmare, where the sight of you intertwined in his brother’s arms continued to haunt him even in his wake, he decided to dive into the extremes and leave the estate entirely, force himself to focus on something else, in one thing he considered himself to be the best in… at least, until he was proven otherwise.

Even when a sorcerer is suspended, either temporarily or definitely, there’s always a way to work around that—either through a small task, a quick elimination, or money under the table—HQ was open to those kind of opportunities, more so for someone as prestigious as the heir of the Zen’in clan, which Naoya decided to abuse.

Per his request, Naoya was given the task of collecting a cursed object in a rather dangerous, highly active, rural area, something usually reserved for grade ones; if done successfully, his ban would be lifted and all records of his incident permanently deleted.

Because Naoya thought himself more than capable, he took the mission without hesitation, careless to check if he was mentally prepared, and HQ couldn’t be any more detached.

As it would come to be, this would not only lead him to sabotage the mission, but expose himself to just a few moments away from death thanks to a simple miscalculation, barely rescued in time thanks to the sorcerer who was sent to oversee his progress noticing he had failed to set up a checkpoint when required.

Because Naoya had also managed to buy the proctor’s silence this small incident was kept under wraps from the rest of the community; however, the severity of his injuries meant that his family had to be informed nonetheless, unfolding everything else.

At that point, Naoya’s life could not have been more filled with mistakes, after mistakes, after mistakes, urging him to pursue a sense of satisfaction, instead of taking a breather to compose himself, only to fail once more.

Your husband believed to have hit rock bottom, spiraled into a hopeless pit where no one was to hear his cries for help… that is until you unexpectedly answered his call. Neither Naoya nor his staff expected it to be answered really, but it was, and it was sufficient to keep him alive .

Makes sense why he was over the moon when you came along, the only positive thing he’s gotten in his life for a while now.

But now that that is over, Naoya is back to the point where he has nothing— no one . Not even a semblance of hope to motivate him further, a paused career and a broken marriage.

Nothing.

He knows it’s stupid, perhaps even useless to think about it, but he wants something, a sign, an omen, a word, anything just to know there’s still something left for him to do, something… to not give up completely on everything—on you .

Because of all things he’s lost, you are the one that hurts the most. Not even his career, because that was something that was given to him by his blood, it was just a coincidence he ended up liking it.

You were the one person he has ever sought after through his own volition, the only one he’s ever cared about.

Even through these obstacles, Naoya does his best to move on with his day just like he’d done prior, roaming around the halls for a bit of air before heading back to… well, whatever it is that he could do at this point. Train? He doesn’t feel like it.

Certainly not socializing—his close ones are way for the moment, and he’s not blind to the way the staff go silent whenever he’s around, always been like that since he can remember, but nowadays he can’t help but feel like there’s a malicious intent behind it, as if they were trying to hide something from him.

Well, he wasn’t too far off with that assumption, because after a few more cautious attempts to ease this hunch, he would discover the truth.

“What? She’s— what?! ” he’d say, slightly, very infuriated from the fact that he was the last person to know about your condition, again! You’re his wife, for god’s sake, shouldn’t he be the first informed? “Since when is she sick?!”

“Since Monday” one of the staff members would dare say, hoping to calm the storm his master bore—but if anything, this just made Naoya more irritated. What did he expect? That just because he responded to one question he’d be satisfied? Of course not! He needs to know everything about his wife!

The man nervously obliges.

“She… uh, well, according to her staff, I mean, began to feel a bit ill the days prior, but it wasn’t Monday that she couldn’t even get out of bed.”

“She wouldn’t even be able to do certain tasks” other adds “Too… tired for that”

“And why was I the last one to know?” Naoya groans. The staff remains silent, certainly intimidated by his outburst, until a valiant one decides to step in.

“We… didn’t think it was appropriate to…” one quietly explains. “Since… you… you… you know—”

“What was that?” Naoya harasses. Oh, he’s going to remind them of how everything works around here. “Care to run through that again?”

“Because it’s no secret that whenever the two of you are together, hell breaks loose” another voice adds from behind, making the servants immediately bow, and shift Naoya’s attention— it was none other than his dreadful uncle, Ogi. Exactly what Naoya wanted to do first thing in the morning: deal with both the imprudence of his staff and family at the same time.

But he doesn’t respond, not when he’s clearly more preoccupied by your health and the staff’s seeming transgressions than whatever jab his uncle could make up on the spot.

Ogi takes note of his silence, which irks him a bit for he somewhat enjoyed indulging in this push-and-pull game with his nephew, it was so easy to provoke him after all. Well, it’s not what he’s there for anyways.

“Leave us” Ogi says, and the staff does as ordered soon after.

Naoya isn't keen on their dismissal, feeling there was more he still could’ve gotten out of them… so whatever his uncle wanted, it must be good. “Are you done moping in your bedroom? I’ve been searching everywhere for you."

"I'm here, aren't I?" Your husband frowns.

"You're just as rude as your wife… truly, a match made in heaven" Ogi scoffs under his breath, but Naoya still hears him. Oh, how he wishes he could hit him right now, how dare he mention you?! "Either way, I'm only here to tell you the news"

“What… news…?” Naoya’s previous thoughts are completely discarded once those words were uttered, simply because he had made Ogi in charge of his most… urgent, if not confidential, matters.

Like the grounds his marriage was made in. Meaning that if he had a reason to approach him, it was important , and after all that happened days prior, he could only think of the worst.

Did your sister finally find out the kind of agreement he’d made with your father? If so, how long ago did it happen? And how? He thought— he made sure to keep everything under wraps! Does he even have enough time to—

“That your ban is temporarily lifted so you can help you during the 31th of October”

Thankfully for him, that was not the case, which made some of the burdens on Naoya’s shoulders lift.

Nonetheless, he proceeds to be in shock.

“What?” Naoya breathes, still unable to believe his ears. “ Pardon? ”

"Extra hands are needed" Ogi explains, voice a bit tense for being irritated at Naoya's privilege. Had he been in his shoes, he knew he would never get the same opportunities. But oh well, he's got his revenge with you. “And, if your performance is good enough, they’re also willing to move past your small incident, lift your ban all together, and let you apply for a promotion sooner"

If Naoya needed evidence that the gods were listening to his prayers, this was it. The so-called sign he wanted to not give up and keep fighting, had arrived as expeditiously as ever.

Good news that would’ve made the old Naoya ecstatic, eagerly dropping everything on the spot to get back on the road and do what he did best, ensuring his career as a proficient sorcerer and getting that sought after promotion!

And yet, his mind was all but there, instead, he's at the estate, with you specifically, inside that small room as he presumes you to be having a horrible time, just like he did.

It didn't feel right to leave the house when you were sick, feeling both guilty for unwittingly passing on his sickness to you, and responsible, because as your husband, he should and wants to provide for you.

Besides, if the least he could do after the week you spent with him, return the favor.

"When’s the latest I can leave?"

" Latest? " Ogi raises an eyebrow, mildly surprised by Naoya's question. "What for?"

"There are some things I want to deal with before I leave." Naoya responds, he would’ve liked his uncle to remain quiet and avoid giving unnecessary explanations, but he if has to…

And of course a man of Ogi's years, quickly recognizes this is to be a simple, yet bad excuse, as it becomes crystal clear to him that he wants to stay back with you.

The vivid contrast of how he initially handled you. Back then, he didn't want anything to do with you, relegating others for your care, and getting unreasonably angry when it didn't go as planned.

But now… he wants to be there, in the front line, as if you were even worthy of that consideration

Ogi can't help but wonder what this means for their plans…

Well, if Naoya wanted to further ruin his life to be with a woman that wasn’t even that good per their standards, fine. He’ll let him be, it’s his funeral.

“A day before the meeting.” Ogi declares. “That’s all you have”

Naoya frowns.

This means… he’ll only have around 3 days to be with you—no, less than that considering he still needs to prepare everything for his departure. It’s half the time it took him to get back on his feet… will it be enough for you?

No. He doesn’t think so, but he'll take what he can get, any chances destiny has given him to earn his place next to your side, make it up to you, if only to see you happy once more.

“Thanks”

Ogi blinks, taken aback by his nephew’s sudden gratitude, but in the bigger picture he doesn’t really care, so he leaves without saying anything else.

With this newfound revelation Naoya knew exactly where he had to be, however, he was still ignorant of the gravity of your health since the staff hadn’t been disclosed of your status thanks to Mariya’s overzealous protection—did you have a fever like he did? If so, you need to rest, he hopes his aunt doesn’t push you to work through it.

What about pain? That’s even worse, he can vouch for that, and there’s no doubt in him that you’re bored beyond belief in that room…

But what can he do to help you…?

Suddenly, his favorite memory of the week he spent with you flashes across his mind.

Any other time Naoya would’ve just waltzed over to your chambers… ordered his staff to give you what you needed, and stayed away after that. But upon recognizing you’ve been actively avoiding him, he needed a good reason to approach you—and bringing you some entertainment was the perfect starting point.

He also had to admit, however, that he doesn’t know… much about you, well, kind of. He clearly remembers some things from the first time he met you, but those aren’t within his grasp at the moment, and doesn’t want to waste time going out to get them…

Instead, he opts to play safe by approaching you, hoping to get your preferences and avoid repeating Matsuo's mistake.

With haste, Naoya makes way to your room, rather uneventfully until he bumps into a staff member, who after a few seconds of walking behind him, as well as noticing the tray on his hands, carrying a bowl of neatly cut apple slices and a glass vase with a singular lily, concluded they’re heading to the same destination.

Your husband didn’t think much of it—well, he didn’t want to think much of it, outside of how odd it was for a servant completely to be doting on one of the masters seemingly unprovoked… until the giddy look on his face made it impossible for him to keep quiet.

It’s been proven countless times by now that Naoya isn’t particularly fond of sharing his belongings with anyone. And his wife, especially her, is no exception. So, when he sees this nonchalant man happily heading over to your bedroom, bound to find you in a vulnerable position , it does not sit well with him.

With boiling anger, your husband swiftly stomps over to his direction, standing in front of him and startling the poor man on the spot, almost making him drop the tray in his hands (fortunately that didn't happen) before demanding an explanation.

“Where do you think you’re going with that?” Naoya badgered, as if his presence wasn't enough to intimidate him, he had to double down with his tone.

“Nowhere!” He lies, ignoring the blatantly incriminating evidence on his hands.

“You’re off to see my wife, aren’t you?” Naoya persists. “What, hoping to get lucky?”

“Wh— what ?! No!” The man doesn’t know whether to feel offended or frightened by the insinuation, either way he denies it all. “Of course not!”

“ Give me that! ” Naoya says, swiftly pulling the tray away from his grasp. “I better not see you around my wife—there’s a reason why I designated only women to be part of her staff.”

At that point, the frightened man can't do much outside frantically nodding, giving one last apology for his grave mistake, before eventually turning around and disappearing into the halls.

Once out of his sight, Naoya sighs and looks down at the tray, feeling a bit foolish that he hadn’t thought of this before, however, there is one thing that catches his attention more than the rest, and that’s the flower—why was he giving you a lily, of all the flowers in the world? Were they your favorite?

He doesn’t recall anything of the sort, and surely hadn’t acknowledged there’s a whole garden of them in the estate, where you'd spend most of your time when relaxing.

But if they were… he figures he can get you more. Seems fitting that a beautiful girl like you would get flowers.

Either way, he’ll figure it out soon, but until then he can worry about your reaction to this offering of sorts. One that could work as an olive branch to mend the way his last conversation had ended with you… and maybe move past that promise he should’ve never done in the first place.

He thinks it’ll work, and after having a sample of your happiness, hopes it does .

But this sentiment briefly diminishes when arriving at your door, hand freezing just a few inches away from the edge after hearing your voice deep in conversations with someone else's.

A male voice, which unwittingly takes him back to his wretched nightmare.

As much as he tried to convince himself that this couldn��t be, that nothing really happened, even though he had no proof of the contrary… it still manages to rattle him.

His hands tremble at the prospect of opening the door and finding you with someone else, especially after hearing you laugh, clearly enjoying their company—that was enough for him to consider walking away all together…

But he persists, because in his mind it doesn’t make sense that something like that would happen right now. Not… when you’re sick anyways.

Besides, Naoaki is out of the estate, most of his relatives are, which far from offering the comfort he wanted, gave him more things to worry about. If the people he could directly link to you were outside working… Then who were you chatting with?

Perhaps another member of the staff? What the hell were they doing inside your room? He doesn’t like that, men around you that is. He barely tolerated the way Matsuo spoke to you simply because he got things done, and he already dealt with that accordingly.

So who…?

Who was with you?

Well, no one else than one of his brothers, of course, the one that usually stays below the radar, and away from the vicious claws of the Zen’in.

The one many considered a below average sorcerer, the reason why he was scrapped from consideration for Halloween night, staying behind at the estate to eventually hear of your sickness, which he decided to ease by preparing you something warm to eat, and keep you company while shyly relishing on the appreciation he rarely gets for his talent.

The youngest of his siblings— Naofumi .

Naoya no longer felt frightened when seeing him sitting by the edge of your futon… At least, not in that sense, for he continued to be intrigued, wanting to know just how close this relationship really was, enough for him to treat you so casually…

If only he had given attention to Ranta's words, he would've known this has been the case for a while, but as always, Naoya only focused on Naoaki.

Nonetheless, there's no doubt that he kept underestimating your reach when it came to his family, thinking that you were mostly attached to Naoaki, and nothing more…

But what perhaps stood out more from this situation was the divide between the two, and how much worse it was than he anticipated.

Had he really been… this detached?

“What are you doing here?” you're the first to speak upon his entrance, having long suspected someone was to come thanks to the sound of approaching footsteps just outside your room—wishing it was Mariya, hating it was Naoya. And you’re not about to hide that sentiment.

The look on your face could only be described as infuriated, a shocking difference from the cheerful countenance Naofumi saw you with.

Naturally, he had to turn around and see the root of your commotion… quickly regretting his actions when his gaze fell right on his younger brother.

All he can do at that point is quickly swirl his head back to you, hoping that Naoya would ignore his actions and pretend he wasn't there.

That, or that the earth would swallow him before Naoya was provoked to do something awful…

Or more like you wouldn't provoke him… just like he feared you would when proceeding.

“Do you mind? I’m with someone right now.”

Everything occurred a bit too fast for Naoya to react at the moment, but when he finally understood what transpired, his heart clenched in a way he could only describe as painful.

It's not the first time he’s experienced your rejection, but it somehow feels… colder now, like it was second nature to you.

Seems that one of the symptoms of this sickness was the boundless demonstration of emotions by weakening the patient to voice nothing but their inner thoughts.

If so… Naoya feels very, very hurt that this was your first reaction to him, compared to his feelings for you.

“I just wanted to—” he pauses, taking a deep breath to push down his emotions from showing in his voice. “I heard you were sick, so I brought you something to lighten your mood.”

And to mend my mistake .

Unfortunately for him, you were not in the mood to receive any sort of motivators —not when you already had the same in abundance, and most importantly, it wasn't even enough to be excused as a so called "apology", one that was intended for something that wasn't even his greatest misdeed anyways.

“No, thank you—I have enough of both.” you quickly respond, and suddenly, as if at the break of dawn, the sight of your overcrowded chamber reveals before his eyes.

Too focused on figuring out whose company you were enjoying and suffering from your subsequent indifference, your husband had failed to note the ocean of flowers surrounding your bed: from all kinds of colorful vases filled with bouquets of lilies, camellias, pansies and violets, you were not exaggerating when saying you had enough.

The vast amount of flowers emanated a sweet scent that quickly drowned his nostrils, dizzying him for a moment, before snapping out of it due to the fumble of his fingers, almost dropping the tray and jumping straight back to you.

You literally had a garden here, which only made your room far smaller than it already was, and his offering miniscule—not that it should’ve mattered, for his tribute wasn’t his in the first place, but still made him feel ridiculed.

A sentiment he has never liked to experience, cornering him to regain control of the situation by taking it out on the person he deemed the weakest of the three.

“What are you doing here?” He says at Naofumi, and he, knowing better than to just ignore him, slowly turns around, lips trembling as he prepares himself to speak up as clearly as he could.

“I just… wanted to give her something” he frets “I made her—soup, because I thought I’d make her feel bet—”

“ You don’t have to answer him! ” you shriek, briskly cutting through his words and unwittingly making him flinch, making you regret the way you stepped in, but it’s a thought that didn’t last long because you knew it was for the greater good. “And you don’t have to be in my room. Leave ”

It’s not a situation Naoya ever expected when coming here, not even remotely. Guess he should be grateful it isn’t like his nightmare where both his brother and you were ganging up on him… although your anger is more than sufficient for the two.

“I just wanted to see how you were doing.” Naoya responds. "Can't I—"

“I’m doing fine" you interject “No thanks to you, but it’s not like I’ll die—not like this anyways.”

Naoya swallows, unable to avoid the pain your direct jab granted him. Believe him, he’s not happy about that decision either, but there’s only so much an heir can do against their leader , and your unwillingness to work together…

“Have you rested—”

“What is this, an interrogation?” you scoffed. “I’m not interested in talking to you. Leave.”

“I just want to know, Y/N—”

“I’m eating. Leave”

“ Y/N ”

“Just how long are you going to torture me?!” you cry, and the room goes silent immediately after, tension in the air growing heavier.

Naofumi knew that your relationship with his brother was bad. Knew so thanks to Naohiko's incessant gossip, or whatever Naoaki confided in him.

He just never imagined it was to this extent, or that you would be the one berating him!

Poor Naofumi couldn’t do so—nope, he couldn’t even think about doing something of the like against the heir ; he was 100% sure that as soon as rumor sprouted he spoke ill of Naoya, hell would befall him.

Yet, here you are, chewing Naoya up as if he weren’t the future of the Zen’in! And the way you did it… it was almost natural! Did he misunderstand the dynamic of your relationship?

Not really, but he certainly underestimated what your anger could do, only ever being sweet and caring with him, one of the few to be with him, aside from fellow food-enthusiast, Haruko.

As much as Naoya deserved to be put in his place, Naofumi didn't like seeing nor being caught in the crossfires of it, so when he thought it appropriate, he spoke up.

"I—I should be going." he says, standing up from the floor. "I’m glad the soup was to your liking, Y/N, but now I gotta—"

"Don't tell me you're leaving because of Naoya" you say, and Naofumi, caught in his poorly spinned web of lies, could only stare at you like a deer in headlights—enough of a confirmation to make your anger boil ever further.

"No, I don't want you to leave." you retorted, much to Naofumi’s dismay. "If Naoya has an issue with you, then he can leave"

"I… It’s no bother” He insists. “I have other things to do anywa—"

"Yes!" Naoya interjects. “That’s wonderful , because I wish to speak to my wife alone”

"No!" You challenge. “He will not leave”

Naofumi whimpers.

"It was—it was only a quick visit, really” He nervously adds, wanting to get out of there as quickly as possible “Just to give you Naoaki's flowers and my—"

"Flowers?" Naoya breathed, as everything else that worried him faded into the background, Naofumi regretting he ever opened his mouth. "Naoaki brought you flowers??"

Does this mean that all of the flowers in your room… where his ?

How— how did he even have the time to do that?! Wasn’t he away for work and what not?

He sent them via the staff, then, and if Naofumi’s presence was worth anything, it also meant that he tasked his relatives to keep an eye on you!

No wonder both the man from earlier and his brother were startled when confronted, because how were they going to admit to his face that the reason they were there was because his wife’s lover sent gifts?!

But most importantly, even when away, he still manages to keep tabs on you…?

Naoaki’s commitment to you had to be commended, because no matter what he did, he always found himself right in the middle of this marriage. In both the most unsuspecting and obvious ways, he always has to snake his way between the two. As if he were your husband!

And this, far from infuriating Naoya…

Saddened him.

He might've as well lost you already.

"What? He can't wish me a quick recovery now?" Your words made him snap out of his thoughts, remembering why he was there in the first place, and regretting the way he led the conversation.

While your sickness appeared to be a lighter version of what struck him, you were still afflicted by it, given the exhausted look in your eyes, the fluster in your cheeks, and the most notorious of all, your bedridden status.

And he had the great idea of letting his emotions get the best of him, irk you and possibly get you more agitated, when he should've allowed you to rest.

One step at a time, he tells himself.

"... of course he can" Naoya eventually murmurs, obviously not genuine… but he doesn't want to fight with you anymore. "I was just startled. I didn't expect all of them to be from him."

"Does it make that big of a difference if they are or not?" You ask. And well, for him, it does—because his gesture and your acceptance feels like a stab, after stab, after stab on his poor broken heart.

But there's nothing that can be done about that anymore, guess the positive thing out of this is that he worries for you too, or so he alleges.

"I didn't mean to start of like—"

"Of course not.” you scoff, rolling your eyes. “You never mean anything, because everything’s a game to you, isn't it?"

Naofumi's breath hitches to his throat. Even he, who has greatly remained out of loop with the two, knows your words were nothing but a low blow, one that will for certain push Naoya into snapping.

But Naoya, after receiving such a strike, and endless more days prior, can’t find it in himself but to admit that perhaps it’s best if he leaves the room before he does something he’ll regret.

"I just wanted to bring you this—take care." he murmurs, placing the tray down on the floor, making his way out of the room and to… somewhere. Anywhere, really, just about any place that will allow him to be by himself and his overwhelming emotions.

That’s not true— none of your words were true. He doesn’t think that everything is a game, obviously , and just because he didn’t keep up with one thing doesn’t mean he didn’t consider everything else!

He clearly remembers you talking fondly of your mother, even brought you those discs so you wouldn’t miss her too much—and what did you do? Who knows! Naoya hasn’t been able to find them anywhere, nor get an answer from you. So much for missing your family!

And what about him coming to see you as soon as he heard about your sickness? That has to amount to something! Wasn’t the intention what counted anyways?

And also the—the commodities he's given you—that… that well, he was expected to give you anyways but he could still—

…

There he goes again, rambling off about things that didn’t matter, blaming everyone but himself for the consequences of his own actions…

Was it really that hard to realize that of all situations, he’s the common denominator?

It seems so, but at least this time, he stops his mind from spiraling even further by remembering he’s supposed to be taking care of you, not… blaming you.

Still, it was hard to proceed from this point without trying to indulge in his fiery anger; he didn’t like being both offended and humiliated with things he considered untrue , and in front of someone else.

Worse when he didn't have his usual backing, Ranta that is.

If only he were here, he… he would know what to tell him, guide him through the tumultuous ocean that is this marriage and do the right things, just like he's always done.

Yet, he isn't. He's away working, like a sorcerer his age would be, and it was perhaps best to leave him focused…

Or not.

He’s never been in the position to seek comfort like this… but he guesses it wouldn’t hurt to try.

So after he gets to his room, the first thing he does is get his phone and dial him—after a few seconds, the young man responds.

“Naoya?” He asks, slightly startled, for it was highly unusual that he'd take initiative when calling, leading him to assume the worst. “What happened? Is everything alright?”

“Yes—Well, no.” Naoya admits, Ranta gasps.

“What is it?!” the other frets, alarms adequately triggered after hearing his words. “Did you get sick again? Are you hurt? Where are you—”

“I’m fine… no need to get that energetic.” He responds, feeling a bit… Well, flattered really, at least someone cared that he went through a rough patch. The only one.

“Then… what’s wrong?”

“...I just… wanted to talk”

Now Ranta knows for sure that something is wrong—his best friend rarely, if ever, approached him for that. Always rejected him when suggesting so.

“I’m all ears”

But he won't deny the support when needed.

Naoya takes a deep breath.

“I just learned that Y/N is sick, and it's more than likely because she spent that week with me"

“Oh, that’s… awful.” Ranta admits. “How long has she been like that?”

“For a few days, I think—I still can’t believe I was the last to know” Naoya frowns “You’d think I’d be the first one, right? I know that would’ve been the case if you were around”

“I would try." Ranta says.

He was barely able to visit the estate when Naoya fell ill, with the poor kid becoming nothing but distraught once hearing how it occurred.

That was not to be the star of the moment, however, that would be your willingness to be by his side throughout this moment.

A shocking statement considering how distant you've been, nonetheless it helped ease his worries regarding his friend. The poor kid has been nothing but distraught upon hearing how it happened, frustrated that he couldn’t be there afterwards.

It gave him reassurance to see you there with him—hope for the future of the relationship.

Which didn’t happen, according to Naoya’s words.

“And you? How are you—”

“...I tried visiting her. Wanted to return the favor, you know? I knew she couldn’t be anything but bored while quarantining in her room… but to my surprise, she was well accompanied by Naofumi”

“Naofumi…?”

“And the flowers Naoaki brought her”

“Naoaki??” Ranta repeats, fearing that with the mention of his older brother he’d spiral into an antagonistic charade…

Only to be proven wrong.

“She wasn’t happy to see me, of course. Not even with the thing I was intending to give her… which I actually confiscated from a servant, can you believe he was going to her room?? I should’ve been far more stricter with who can approach her or not!

…

But that doesn’t matter right now, I have to worry about Y/N… and getting her back to health”

Ranta briefly freezes. Is this really the same Naoya he knew?

“Makes sense why I didn’t see her as frequently anymore, thought she was ignoring me… although is not that different from a regular day” he chuckles, and the sentiment that he’s being pranked grows bigger in the back of Ranta’s head. “But it’s worse this time, and all because I did something so, so stupid!”

“What… Did you do?”

“Can you believe I told her she could see her family? Her family , of all things?”

“You didn’t” Ranta breathes, knowing well the gravity of such a promise—Naoya was so… persistent in keeping everything a secret, so why…? “When—”

“I did. And now, she hates me” It’s more likely that you already hated him beforehand, Ranta wishes to say, but keeps quiet.

“... Why?” his friend eventually asks, curiosity getting the best of him. “Why did you do it?”

“Because I wanted to see her happy” He admits quite easily, much to Ranta’s surprise. “On the second time I got fever, Y/N was called yet again to tend to me. I don’t… remember quite well how we got to that point, but she started talking about her family and how much she missed them.

It hurt me to hear her so… desolate, so miserable —it was something I never wanted to see from her again, and so… I did it”

Ranta almost peeled his phone away to check if this was truly Naoya’s number, because the man on the other line was not the same one he knew weeks ago.

The one that was disappointed at the mere mention of your transgressions, painting you in a controversial light as he considered you to be actively working against him, alongside his brother whom Naoya believed had an extramarital relationship with you—dreaming for the day he’d put the two back in place…

But now, that was nothing but an echo of the past, now replaced by someone who showed regret for his actions, worried for your feelings, regardless of others intervention, while actively seeking a way to mend them.

Something most definitely happened these past few days, beginning with the root of his sickness, ending with the week he spent with you. But will Ranta ever know?

“I had to lie to her when confronted about it, told her I didn’t remember making such a promise so we could move past it, I even offered to eat her favorite food to cheer her up, but… it didn’t work”

Silence.

“I don’t know what to do” Naoya continues “No matter what I say or do, she doesn’t want anything to do with me, but I can’t leave her like that, you know? I don’t want to”

And for a moment, it almost sounds like he’s… pleading .

He’s seen Naoya in desperate moments before, but always with a bit of resistance, if not complete rejection for a change.

This time, however, he wants to improve. He wants to make a change .

Ranta now knows he needs to push him into the right direction. This might be the moment his marriage finally changes.

“Then don’t. Keep visiting her… you know what they say of a persistent man…”

“Even if she doesn’t want to see me?”

“Well, she’s still sick, isn’t she?” Naoya agrees with a hum. “You can still be around, check in on her from time to time. I’m sure she’ll come to appreciate the effort at least.”

Not really, because on his first attempt to approach you later that day, after Naoya managed to gather his thoughts a bit better, he would be reminded that your animosity was still pretty much alive—expanding to your staff.

The person accompanying you this time was the famed seamstress, Hitomi, and her piercing cold gaze.

He wasn’t usually intimidated by her, if only irritated by the snobby aura she always seems to carry, but now he can’t shake the feeling that his actions were being heavily scrutinized, to the point where even the slightest movement will land him a scolding—what an unexpected turn of events.

Either way, this doesn’t sway him from having an amicable conversation with this wife as he continues to approach the two.

Unfortunately, that will only end up as a desire, because as soon as he reached both and opened his mouth, you intervened.

“Hitomi, can you accompany me to the restroom?” you’d say, pushing yourself up from the bed, the seamstress following suit. “I’m feeling quite dizzy, I think I might—”

“Let me help you.” Naoya says, attempting to take hold of your arm and take you there himself, but Hitomi beats him to it.

“That won’t be necessary” she interjects, guiding you towards the door. “Besides, it’s getting late and she needs rest”

“It won’t take long, I just want to know if she’s—”

“Goodbye” Hitomi doesn’t let him talk, of course, brushing past his side and pulling you along, disappearing into the halls.

Naoya is left alone in your room with the idea that you’re going to find a way to delay your return as much as possible, so he opts to try again another time.

Wanting to make the best of his short stay at the estate, Naoya ends up coming later in what would be his second attempt, after presuming you were finally done (it had been 3 hours at that point, so he hoped you were), whilst bringing along some medicine he ordered his staff to find to help with your alleged nausea.

After knocking twice on your door, Naoya anxiously awaits for a response, which doesn’t take long to arrive soon after, hands fidgeting around the medicine box as the door begins to slide open and reveal the one keeping you company this time.

Perhaps his biggest nemesis right after Naoaki: Mariya .

“May I help you?” she indifferently asks, eyes as dull as they can be. Her usual demeanor when it comes to him, so at least he’s not unsettled by it—it’s the same old hindrance of everyday.

“I brought something for my wife, for her nausea” he continued, gesturing to the box. “I thought it might help better than—”

“She’s better now, thank you” Mariya doesn’t even look down at the medicine as she attempts to close the door; Naoya doesn’t allow your staff to outwit him again so he stops her before she can even do much as move it an inch

“Take it, she might need it later” He insists, giving her the box.

“I can’t give her medicine that hasn’t been prescribed by her doctor” she responds “We both know that”

Diplomacy in its excellence. But even if she was right, it doesn't mean Naoya was going to follow through with it.

“It’s just this time, no one will know if we kept it a secret”

Mariya’s face twists out of disgust.

“Do not get confused, Naoya. I’m not like one of your servants. ” she hisses. “Good night”

And then, she slams the door on his face.

Naoya silently stares at the thin paper wall separating you from him for a few seconds before wishing you a good night under his breath and retreating to his room.

His third attempt would come the next morning, after having woken up far earlier, quickly gotten ready and rushed towards the kitchen.

As painful as last night was, it was also enlightening, coming to the realization that if he wants your undivided attention, he had to compete with your staff for it, in other words, he needed to get to you first.

The solution that came to mind for this unusual predicament was preparing you breakfast… Or getting a servant to do so, since he lacked the skill, ordering whoever crossed his path first into making you something both nutritious for a speedy recovery, but tasty to lighten up your mood.

After obtaining such a meal, the servant places it on a tray and hands it over to Naoya, who insisted on taking it to you personally, before making his way to your room once more.

There, he knocks at your door a few times, eagerly waiting for your response as he ponders what kind of reaction you’ll have to his gesture—hopefully a positive one, since you’ll undoubtedly be hungry as soon as you wake up.

But as seconds pass and no one answers, Naoya grows a bit worried, knocking one last time before deciding it was best to make his way inside, soon finding out the reason for your lack of response.

As expected from the hour, you had failed to answer because you were nothing less than fast asleep, laying on your side as you calmly breathed into the warm covers: A sight that warmed Naoya’s heart, making him smile and realize it was better to just let you rest than wake you up to eat.

Thus, he carefully sets the tray beside you, wishing you a good rest before departing.

After a few hours Naoya concluded it was the right time to follow-up on your breakfast, hoping it had been as fulfilling as he intended, and who knows? Maybe even open the door for sharing dinner with him.

But he only underestimated the precautions of your staff once more, for the first person to see the tray of food was none other than Mariya, who quickly set off to inquire around the staff to find the one responsible, angered to find it had been Naoya all along.

It wouldn’t take long for him to figure out what happened afterwards: finding the tray on top of the kitchen counter when seeking to prepare your lunch, labeled to be disposed of.

Naoya was running out of time, and fast.

He didn’t like the idea of it, but it was his reality, and he was growing desperate because of it.

He thought that by now he would’ve gotten some improvement, a reaction from your part that didn’t entail disdain, but it hasn’t, and it only made him realize how limited his options were.

Medicine, whether “approved” by his relatives or not, was completely rejected by you and your entourage as soon as it was suggested.

Food isn’t any better, this one is straight up thrown to the garbage… at least he can still use the first for a different occasion—is what he’d tell himself to not feel as bad for your reproach.

A conversation? Unimaginable. He’d have better luck moving mountains.

It takes him to square one, back to the one thing he intended to do at the very beginning of your sickness, something… a bit more personal.

Naoya acknowledges he doesn’t have much of your preferences around the house, nor the time to get them, however, he does have plenty of his tastes, which are quite popular on their own, so… why not share them? Maybe you’ll end up liking them too.

Thus, after a quick trip to his office, grabbing a few tomes from his favorite series and placing them on a box, he waits for you to eat breakfast before approaching you once again.

As always, you were to be accompanied by someone of your staff, this time however, it was the one he considered a lesser threat, and if it’s worth anything, the one he would’ve for you to become closest to, instead of Mariya.

Haruko.

A decision mostly made by your concurrent happiness, for you always seemed to laugh the hardest with her. It made him slightly jealous, of course, but at the end of the day he was elated that even with your sickness, you were still able to have a good time.

When all he can do for you, however, is disappoint you, evident by the way your smile drops when seeing him yet again standing by your door frame, his daily reminder that he does not have a spot in your world.

But maybe, slowly but surely, he can win you over with this .

“Y/N… Naoya-sama is—” Haruko would be the first to notice him, or more like the first to actually care, as you continued to ignore him by diligently working on Hitomi’s new lessons.

“I know” You’d respond to Haruko’s fretted murmur. The poor girl is still afraid of him, might be for the rest of her life, so she naturally leans towards you for protection, which you attempt to oblige. “Just ignore him, he’ll go away soon enough”

Naoya didn’t like being referred to as some kind of stray dog, but he's used to it now. At least now he knows Haruko won’t give much resistance.

“How are you doing today?” he asks first, taking a step closer—you continue to ignore him. “It seems you’re better now”

“I don’t think I can do this right, Haruko. I don’t like stitching, certainly not crocheting…”

Haruko attempts to play along, but just like Naofumi, she can't ignore the elephant in the room.

“You could at least answer me.” Naoya says a bit disappointed. “I just want to know if there’s something you need—”

“I’m fine , thank you!” you respond with a deceivingly sweet tone, not lifting your eyes from your work. “Now, leave me alone . I'm busy”

“How long is this going to keep on going, Y/N?” He goes straight to the point, showing a bit of his growing frustration. “Is this still because of the conversation we had that day?”

“I can ask the same thing to you” you snap. “Don’t you have something to do, somewhere to be ?”

“I do, but I don’t think it’s right for me to leave when you’re sick”

“It’s not right… ha!” You scoff. “What would you know of what’s right or not… why do you even care anyways?”

Another low blow that has the unwilling third wheel fearing for their life, praying for either a divine power, or its equivalent in Mariya, to intervene…

Fortunately for all, Naoya has learned to somewhat traverse past these jabs and take them as what they were: words from a hurt, angry, but very sick person he cares a whole lot for.

Because in his delusional mind, this was still caused by one particular thing, not a whole.

“Enough to be where it matters.” Naoya says. “If my wife needs me, I’ll be there. Besides, I'm your husband, I should be the one—”

“That’s the thing— I don’t . So you either leave me alone, or leave me alone. Take your pick” you roll your eyes. "And stop the whole husband and wife talk, you sound like an old man…"

Naoya sighs.

“At least give these a chance” he says, gesturing to the box and placing them on the floor near you.

Haruko’s curiosity eventually gets the best of her, making her lean forward in such a way to get a better peak at its contents, frowning out of confusion when doing so.

“ Manga? ” She asks, unwittingly making you sharply turn over to the box and see for yourself. But even then, you still couldn't believe it.

Your husband… brought you manga?

“I have more at my office, but these are from my favorite series” He explains. “Thought you’d like to read them for a bit of distraction, it certainly helps me, after all, reading manga is one of my favorite things"

You never really imagined a man like Naoya would ever dive into the world of manga, for you always considered him to be… well, so high up his horse, that he’d undoubtedly think something like that was a bit… childish . Think the stereotype was there for a reason—just like how many thought about video games.

Yet, here he is, proving you wrong, and not only that, but letting you know it’s his favorite pastime .

…

Maybe if he hadn’t been such an asshole, you would’ve found yourself enthralled by it, curious to know more of this unexplored world with an accomplished guide…

But you don’t want to—because just like in many things, he's also undeserving of that .

“I’m not interested.” you say, going back to your previous activity as your mind searches for the best way to efficiently push him away from you… landing on a word that hurts Naoya’s inner child. “They’re kind of weird anyways, I don’t get them.”

He swallows.

Wouldn’t be the first time someone used to describe his affinity with that word, but it still irks him, it's an extension of him in a way, a part of his life… so how would he not feel hurt when you've just insulted it?

“They’re not weird.”

“Well, they are to me, so no thank you. You can take them back”

Of all of your jabs, this was the one that hit too close, having him leave your midsts without much insistence, picking up the box soon after after and dropping off at the office, careless to return them to their spot on the shelf for he couldn't even stand their sight— feeling nothing but humiliated by them now.

Haruko would tell you that perhaps you were a bit too blunt with your words, having felt the hit herself as well, and you somewhat agreed, but you kept moving forward, justifying that what you did wasn’t as painful as compared to his actions.

And that wasn't even your worst reaction yet.

He’d spend a lot of time thinking on what to do to convince you otherwise of your set disposition towards him, looking through his options over and over again to see which ones still fit in his time frame, and which ones to discard.

After much pondering, Naoya ultimately believes that instead of trying setting new, he should instead, try something that's already worked. Something simple, yet effective:

Flowers.

There must be a reason why Naoaki filled your room with them above anything else, and he plans to exploit that.

But of course, in true Naoya nature, just because he was going to do the same as the rest didn't mean he had to blend in.

He still wanted to let you know how much you meant to him, how you've never left his mind, even when you actively tried pushing him away—thus, he ordered one of his servants to fetch the biggest bouquet of red roses he could find and bring it to him as quickly as possible.

Naoya hoped this last chance would be the one to work, the one to crumble your walls and let him into your life…

And it seems that fate decided to support him, finally playing in his favor when he's able to intercept you alone for the first time.

It was one of the brief moments you were allowed to go out of your room, enjoy a bit of fresh air, and stretch your legs.

Naoya, ever the one to seize the opportunity when it presents itself, does not hesitate to approach you, in the most perfect timing for he had just gotten his gift a few moments ago, the poor errand man exhausted from having ran to the nearby village and back in record time.

It made him both giddy and nervous just thinking about the kind of reaction you’d have to his gesture, since this is something he has never done in the past and now you won't be able to ignore him so easily either.

With unparalleled enthusiasm and bouquet in hand, as he quickly makes his way towards your direction, approaching you from behind as he calls out your name.

“Y/N” he says, and as soon as you hear him, you stop walking. “Good morning”

You don’t respond, staying still in place.

“I got you something, again." He murmurs the last part, taking a step closer to you. "I know you have many already, but I noticed you didn't have these so I thought I'd get them for you"

You remained motionless for a few seconds more, as if debating what to do from that point forward before choosing to slowly turn around, eyes trailing from the floor, up his figure, and then… to the vast collection of red roses in his hands

A sight that inevitably makes you widen your eyes and remain speechless.

When noticing your expression to be one of surprise and not contempt, Naoya presses further.

"Here" he says, taking one more step closer to you and attempting to hand you the flowers. "They're still… fresh, I guess. All you need is somewhere to put them"

You don't take them, still unable to process what the hell is happening. Naoya notes your hesitation and it makes him lose a bit of conviction, feeling as if he failed again.

"Just… take them, Y/N. Please" he insists "why won't you accept them? Why won't you accept any of my gifts? Are they not of your liki—"

"Are you being serious right now?" You eventually speak.

"What?" He blinks, confused "Why would… I not be? That's all I've been trying to prove, that I'm serious about you!"

"Is this a joke to you, Naoya?" You repeat "Do you really think that just because you have me some flowers, everything will be alright?"

"I… of course not, I didn't intend to clear everything up but… I was hoping we could start somewhere" he explains.

"Start somewhere… What makes you think I even want to be near you?" You frown "I can't believe you're even real—this must be a prank!"

"... it's not"

"Then you must think I'm stupid"

"I don't, I would never think that!" he says "Why are you even saying this?"

"Wow!" You laugh "You really think I am stupid! Well, that was fast, didn't even take a second to contradict yourself!"

He never liked the mocking tone in your voice when you got like this. It made him feel small, angry, and most importantly, lonely .

But you don't seem to stop.

"Is this still about your family?" He asks, irritated. "how long are you going to keep on with that?"

"Of course you think that's the only thing" you scoff. "Because you'd never done anything wrong in your life! How could the great heir of the Zen'in dare?!"

"You don't have to talk to me like that, Y/N." Naoya frowns "if there's something else you're bothered about, you can just tell—"

"Shut up!" You cry "Shut up! Just— shut up!"

Naoya flinches, taken aback by your reaction.

"Why must you always say things you don't mean? Why do you have to keep torturing me like this??"

"Y/N— that's not… I would never—"

"There you go again! Spewing shit out of your mouth!'

"Then what do you want me to say?! What can I do to have a normal relationship with you?!"

"Leave me alone?! That would be nice!" You say "Oh, I know! How about you let me go? Ah, right. Can't do that either! Might as well accept the fact I'll never see my family again!"

"Why do you insist so much on that anyways? Don't you know it's customary for you to stay here either way??"

"Well, in case you hadn't fucking noticed, Naoya, I don't do well with tradition!"

"... don't talk like that" he murmurs.

"Ah, right, I apologize for my foul vocabulary, Naoya-sama. I should've never opened my mouth, just my legs and let you do whatever you wanted! Oh, yeah, I almost forgot about that, I'm useless there too! But thankfully that will be dealt with quickly, hm? It's only a matter of time before I'm gone and you'll be free to fuck whoever you want!"

“Don’t say things like that” Naoya frowns “I would never find someone else to do that, and you know if it were for me, you wouldn’t—”

“No, Naoya. I really don't—because if there’s one thing I learned about your family, it's that while everything’s a game to you, your father is very much serious in whatever he does!”

“I didn’t want him to intervene, ok?! You’re acting like I’m so happy he decided you were better off dead if you didn’t get pregnant!”

“Well, I didn’t see you doing anything about it either! Or anything at all that wasn’t tormenting me!”

He's had enough.

He's had enough of your baseless arguments and your incessant tirades. Of trying to approach you in amicable matters, only to be ridiculed every second of the day.

He tried, he really did, to be a good husband.

But if this is the only way you'd react, then he'll oblige too.

“How would you? You were too busy with my brother to even care about anything else! And to believe I was the one being accused of cheating!” he laughs, and this irks you more than you would've liked. "I at least had the decency to respect this marriage!"

“Naoaki treats me the way you could never” you declare, knowing well there's no point back after this. "He's more of a husband than you ever were"

And it works, because something inside Naoya snaps.

“Excuse me?”

“You heard me” you continue. “There are even times where I wished he was the one I married instead, thinking how wonderful my life would’ve been if I had met him first!”

“What? M y brother?! That wolf in sheep’s clothing? The one you think so highly of, let him charm you with gifts and words, when in reality it’s just an act?! Because I know you’re not talking about him!” he mocks.

“I am! I am talking about him! I’m talking about Naoaki!” you yell. “No one else but him!”

“Why do you always have to bring him in?! He’s no one , he’s nothing!” Naoya responds. “We weren’t even talking about him!”

“Well, he’s everything to me!” you cry “I wish he was the one I got to call husband, instead of you! I wish he was the one who took care of me, held me, cherished me, treated me like I was the most important person in the world for him—instead—instead of the monster I got as a husband!”

With that, Naoya goes silent, permitting your hurtful words to settle deep into his already broken heart, shattering whatever was left and leaving behind a completely empty vessel, realizing he’s now lost everything. His motivation, his future… you . And there was nothing he could do about it.

Noting his hesitation, you take this as the best moment to make your leave, get away from him before anything else happens—but he’d prove you to have one last card under his sleeve by swiftly grabbing your arm as soon as you take a step away, and root you there.

“Leave—Leave me alone !” you’d squirm against his hold, try your best to free yourself from it, but he just holds you tighter. “Stop it!”

“Take back what you said” he begins to murmur. “Say that you didn't mean any of those words, that you don't—you don’t mean to be with Naoaki—”

“Sto—Stop it!” you whimper at the stinging sensation of his hand imprinting his fingers against your skin, all too careless to his rambles. “Let me go! You’re— you’re hurting me !”

“Not like you’ve hurt me!” he instinctively snaps. Naoya doesn't know when it began, only that his cheeks were soaked and his eyes warm at this point. “Why—why would you say that? Do I— Do I really make you that— that miserable? Do you really hate me?!”

"All you've ever done is hurt me!" You exclaim back "all you could ever do is hurt me!"

"J would never do that to—"

"THEN WHAT ABOUT ALL THE TIMES YOU’VE TAKEN ME AGAINST MY WILL? THE WAY YOU IGNORED MY PLEADS TO STOP, THE WAY YOU RIDICULED ME BEFORE EVERY SINGLE PERSON THAT CROSSED YOUR PATH, REFERRED TO ME AS LESS THAN A PIECE OF MEAT AND THEN ALLOWED OTHERS TO DO THE SAME?! WHAT ABOUT THE TIME YOU PUNISHED ME JUST BECAUSE YOUR FATHER GOT ANGRY AT YOU ! YOU!!! BUT MADE ME EQUALLY RESPONSIBLE?!

WHAT ABOUT THE TIME YOU FORCED ME TO SPEAK ILL OF MY SISTER, FORCED ME TO PUT ON THE ACT THAT I WAS HAPPY HERE, PUSH HER AWAY, ONLY TO CUT ME OFF FROM THE REST OF THE WORLD ONLY BECAUSE I DIDN’T PROVE MY WORTH BEFORE YOUR RELATIVES?! AS IF BEING SENTENCED TO DEATH WASN’T ENOUGH!! WHAT ABOUT ALL THOSE TIME YOU’VE HURT ME?! HUMILIATED ME, MADE ME THINK LESS OF MYSELF?! DO THEY STILL COMPARE TO WHAT I’VE DONE TO YOU? TO WHATEVER I COULD’VE DONE TO PROTECT MYSELF?! DO YOU STILL THINK THEY COMPARE TO ME NOT WANTING TO— ” you grab the bouquet from his hands “ACCEPT YOUR STUPID FLOWERS?!”

And then… throw them onto the floor.

The soft thud of the flowers hitting the wooden floor and the petals that fell off immediately after were a sight that would testify as the official rupture of this marriage—one that will remain imprinted in the back of Naoya’s mind for the rest of his life, perhaps, cementing there was nothing else to be done.

But even then, that would not compare to what he’d see once looking at your face, past the fog of his tears and the adrenaline of his pain.

It wasn’t hatred that he saw, what he believed to have heard in your words. No, not at all.

It was fear —inflicted by none other than himself, the person who swore to protect you—and it hurt more than any anger could do.

A sight that manages to snap him out of trance and realize the gravity of his actions, especially after noting a crowd gathering around the two once more.

Yet, his mind remains with the painful confession you’ve just made.

“Y/N” he whispers, slowly releasing you “Y/N, I—I didn’t—”

“Get the fuck away from me” you breathe, tears falling down your cheeks as you step away from him. “I don’t care what you have to say, get the fuck away from me— now ”

You didn't give him any chance to respond, having turned around, ran past the staff and headed deeper into the estate, perhaps to the company of your staff or your room, it didn’t matter where, because he was for sure now, that after this day, he’s lost you forever.

It was the dawn of his last day at the estate.

Naoya, too focused on trying to mend his relationship with you, had completely forgotten that he was bound to travel to Nagoya in a few hours if he were to attend the mandatory debrief, and even though it was a quick trip there, he still needed to do preparations for it.

Thankfully, his staff had foreseen his setback and prepared him a suitcase with the required items for an easy trip and equally successful missions, which made your husband realize that out of his two objectives, he’d only managed to complete one.

And further ruin the other.

The great day had come, and Naoya couldn’t help but feel completely uninterested, detached from this situation—but he had no other choice, nowhere to turn, but to accept this task and move forward.

But as much as he wanted to put everything else behind, he still felt the responsibility of one last thing—ironically, the one thing he’ll end up doing right.

So after checking that everything was set for his upcoming trip, and there were no other subjects to tend back in the estate, Naoya heads to your bedroom one last time.

It was safe to say that he was not welcomed, neither by your staff, nor by you, but it didn’t matter to him anymore, not after the big realization he came to moments prior.

"What are you doing here?” you caution, heart thundering as you wonder if he’s composed back to his usual self and was now intending to take it out on either you, or your staff…. Completely oblivious to the defeated look on Naoya's face.

A man who’s surrendered completely to his own fate.

"To tell you I'm leaving." he says, and you are very, very subtly, taken aback by this statement. "I'm leaving the house for a few days, for Halloween"

You swallow.

"Why are you—"

"Thought you should know, so you could be at ease knowing I'm not going to be around these next few days.” he adds. “I’ll let my staff inform you when I’m gone, and when I’m back. Take care”

Your face now reflects the shock his words give you, for it is a blatant difference to the last time he announced his departure.

Back then, it was through the intentions of cutting loose ends, dealing with things he thought unnecessary so he could calmingly come back home and enjoy the vicious “domestic” life he’d envisioned with you.

But now, it's for your peace of mind. For your sake, your tranquility, and no one else's.

Yet, as much as you wanted to know what caused this change of behavior from him, thinking it wasn’t of your doing, it would be the first time Naoya would take a page of your book, preventing you from interrogating him further.

Because before you were able to do as much as put in a word, Naoya turned around, exited the room and left the estate.

#naoya zenin #naoya zen'in #naoya x reader #naoya zenin x reader #naoya zenin x you #jjk naoya #naoya zen'in x reader #jjk x reader #jjk fluff #jjk x you #series: first it hurts—

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