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joelalorian · 2 months

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Fall Into Me

dbf!Joel x f!reader

The first TLOU fic I ever read was a dbf!Joel story and it left an indelible mark on my soul. Unfortunately, I never bookmarked it so I have no idea which one it was. It's only natural that I had to try my hand at one at some point. So, here we are.

Summary: Joel is hanging on by a thread as a single father to a tenacious 10-year-old Sarah. Feeling like he's drowning, like the world is about to spit him out, he needs some help before he breaks in half. At your dad's insistence, you show up in his life and change everything.

Story is inspired by the song Fall Into Me by Forest Blakk. Chapter titles will be lyrics from the song.

Word Count: 4.1k

Series Warnings: Mature to start, but will ultimately be Explicit, under 18 take a hike. No outbreak AU. There will be angst, drama, fluff, humor, romance, smut... basically, the works. Age gap of about 9 years (Reader 24/25, Joel 33/34). No use of y/n. Reader has a nickname from her dad, which will be explained at some point.

Dividers by the wonderful @saradika-graphics

Series Masterlist | Main Masterlist

Chapter One: The Day That I Met You

If you asked him over a decade ago where he’d be now, Joel Miller would not have placed himself as a single father to a tenacious pre-teen desperately trying to keep things afloat. He spent too many hours in the week working to keep a roof over their heads and food on the table. He would be lost without the help of his brother and the few friends he had. He had no social life to speak of and could not for the life of him remember the last time he went on an actual date.

No, back then, Joel thought he’d be living the good life in ten years’ time – traveling, going out with the boys, maybe have a girlfriend or wife. Basically, just getting to do whatever he wanted, whenever he wanted. Don’t get him wrong, though. He was still living a good life; it just was a different sort of good than what he hoped for back in the day.

He loved his daughter with every fiber of his being. Sarah was the best damn thing that ever happened to him, his entire world, and he wouldn’t change the past ten years for anything. He bent over backwards doing whatever it took to make his little girl feel cared for, happy, and loved. He just wished there was a little energy left for something for himself at the end of the day.

Joel Miller was drained. Mentally, physically, and emotionally.

He awoke with a groan as the bright sunlight broke through the gap in his curtains. It was Saturday – his birthday – and he hoped to sleep in, at least a little. Between the brightness of the morning and the stifled sounds of clanging pans and voices carrying up the stairs from his kitchen, sleeping in was not happening.

He hauled himself out of bed with a groan worthy of a man twenty years his senior and stretched out his limbs to ease the achiness in his bare back and chest from too much manual labor. Throwing on a pair of well-worn sleep pants and a faded tee shirt, Joel slipped from his bedroom and down the stairs. He moved rather quietly for a man of his size, stealing a moment to lean against the entryway into the kitchen and watch as Sarah and Tommy worked together making breakfast.

The counters were a mess of spilled pancake mix, eggshells, and… was that coffee dripping over the edge and onto the floor? It was a toss-up on who made the bigger mess, his ten-year-old daughter, or his grown ass brother. Still, Joel could not stop the smile spreading across his face as he watched them laughing and teasing each other. That, right there, was the reason he worked so hard, why the loneliness was worth it.

When Tommy flipped the stovetop off, Sarah turned to find her dad smiling goofily at them. “Happy Birthday, Dad!” she exclaimed, launching herself at his chest. Her lanky arms wrapped around his neck as he lifted her off the ground in a big bear hug.

“Thanks, baby girl,” Joel replied, pressing his lips to her forehead in a quick kiss before he settled her feet on the ground.

“We made you breakfast!” Sarah declared, gesturing toward the disaster zone formerly known as his kitchen.

“I see that,” he chuckled, voice still slightly rough with sleep.

Tommy turned with a smirk, hands grasping two plates filled with bacon, eggs, and pancakes. “Take a seat, brother. Let us take care of you on your birthday.” Placing the food on the small dining table, Tommy roughly patted his brother’s shoulders. “Don’t worry ‘bout the mess, I’m on cleanup duty after we eat.”

“We expectin’ company? That’s a helluva lot of food,” Joel grumbled. He needed coffee, stat.

“Yeah, JB is comin’ over to see ya before heading to the airport. His daughter finished grad school over the summer and is moving back home.” Tommy set more food and a full mug of dark roast coffee in front of his brother. The scent alone made Joel perk up a little.

The Millers hadn’t met you yet, having only become friends with your dad through work after you’d already left for college on the east coast. Your dad had a good decade on Joel, but he and the Miller brothers got on like a forest fire from what he told you. With visits home always short and rushed, busy catching up with family and your own friends, there was never time for your dad to introduce you all. Now you were coming home for good and would have plentiful opportunities for spending time with your dad and his friends.

“Speak of the devil,” Tommy muttered as the doorbell rang. Sarah bounded to the door to greet your dad with a hug. In many ways, the girl reminded him of you when you were young, and it always brought a smile to his face.

“There he is! The man of the hour. Happy Birthday, buddy!” Your dad, John, or JB as the Millers called him, ruffled Joel’s already mussed hair, leaving a few locks standing straight up in further disarray. Pulling a 12-pack of beer from behind his back, your dad set it on the table in front of Joel, topped with a little red bow. “I gotcha a lil’ something to celebrate.”

“Good man,” Joel replied with a chuckle. “Have a seat and help me eat all this. Tommy just told me your lil’ girl is coming home, finally.”

Your dad’s face lit up even more at the mention of you coming home. “She’s not so little anymore, but I sure am glad she’s moving back here. Said she had enough of the east coast, but I think she just missed her ol’ man.” After wolfing down some food, he added, “Think we could host a small barbecue here this coming weekend to celebrate? Your backyard is way nicer than mine and you got the pool and all.”

“Not to mention that fancy ass grill,” Tommy chimed in.

Swallowing a long sip of his morning go juice, Joel nodded. “Of course. Invite whoever you want. I’m looking forward to finally meeting your daughter.”

“Me too!” Sarah added. She heard a lot about you from your dad and hoped you were as cool in person as he made you out to be.

Joel’s mind started spinning upon hearing his daughter’s excitement. With her school hours being so different from his typical work hours, he was spending a small fortune on after school care for Sarah. She was still too young for him to leave home alone, especially on those days where he’s stuck late at a job. He was barely scraping by as it was and couldn’t really afford the cost of after school programs. Perhaps…

“JB, ya think your daughter would mind watching Sarah during the week while she’s home. Drop off and pick up from school and keeping her company ‘til I get home from work? I could pay her – it wouldn’t be much, but better than nothin’, I imagine.” He watched Sarah’s eyes light up at the suggestion and knew it was a good choice.

“I’m sure she’d love to. She wasn’t planning on finding a real job until after the holidays, so I know she’ll be free during the day,” your dad replied. “I’ll talk to her about it on the ride back from the airport and let you know.”

Three suitcases and a carry-on bag. That’s all you had left from six and a half years of pursuing higher education in North Carolina. You sold or gave away anything that did not fit into your luggage or hold sentimental value of your time away. Now, you were moving back home to save some money before you had to start chipping away at the mountain of student loan debt you accrued.

You loved learning, always have, but you were relieved to be done with school. Equipped with a bachelor’s degree in earth sciences and a master’s in education, you felt like a real adult ready to take the world of middle school by storm… well, starting after the new year, maybe. For now, you needed several months of limited to no responsibility to recoup your mental and physical energy. That last couple years of school really burned you out. Not to mention the last-minute rejection of a teaching position you thought was in the bag…

Anyway, you were better off leaving North Carolina behind and returning to Austin. You missed your dad something fierce and his particular brand of caring for you was exactly what your weary soul needed. It was you and him against the world, just like when you were a kid.

You flight was smooth and uneventful, yet you were relieved to deboard the plane. Something about being stuck in a tin can at the mercy of someone else’s ability to keep the thing from plummeting to the ground really aggravated your anxiety. Flying was something you would never enjoy; it was merely a means to an end when you wanted to travel long distances.

The journey to baggage claim was a slog with the crowd of passengers all heading to the same place. You were wondering how you’d wrangle three large suitcases by yourself when you caught sight of your dad. His broad smile took over his face when he spotted you, rushing over to sweep you up in a big bear hug.

“Hey Spud, how was the flight?” he asked as you waited for the baggage carousel to begin moving. “Looks like it was a full plane.”

“It was, but the flight was good. I’m really glad to be home.”

“Me, too, kid.”

You settled into a comfortable silence, watching various pieces of luggage pass by on the carousel. Your bags were scattered, and you had to wait several cycles to get all of them. Your dad lugged the final suitcase over the carousel with a grunt. “Jesus, what you got in this one? Bricks? A body?”

“That one has my gaming system and half a closet full of clothes,” you replied with a laugh.

Before long, everything was loaded into your dad’s truck, and you were heading back towards town. The radio hummed at a low volume as you both chatted about everything and nothing all at once.

“Hey, so I know you said you weren’t looking for full-time work until after the new year, but I have a proposition for you.” Your dad’s eyes stayed focused on the road, and you merely quirked a brow waiting for him to continue. “My buddy Joel – you know the one I told you about? Well, his daughter is ten and he needs some help with the school run and after school care. Our work hours aren’t exactly the same as elementary school, you know?”

You nodded, remembering all the times your dad spoke to you about Joel, as well as his daughter and brother. Despite never meeting them, you felt like you already knew their whole life story. “So, he’s looking for a nanny or something? I could do that. It would keep me from getting lazy while I navigate getting my Texas teaching certificate.”

Your dad grinned, one hand patting your leg. “I was hoping you’d say that. Joel will pay you, of course, but just… don’t expect much. It ain’t easy for him being a single dad trying to keep everything afloat.”

Again, you nodded, a soft smile creasing your lips. You knew all too well how challenging it could be for single parents, having grown up with just you and your dad. Much like what your dad told you about Joel’s experience with the mother of his child, your mom split when you were barely a toddler. Things weren’t always sunshine and roses, but your dad sure did his best to make sure you had a great life. Honestly, you wouldn’t trade it for the world, that life with your dad. You had a feeling it was much the same for Joel and his daughter.

“I’m happy to help, even if he doesn’t pay me. I’m sure his daughter will enjoy having a female influence in her life if nothing else. What’s her name again? Sarah?”

Your dad’s eyes twinkled with pride. “Yup, that’s it. I’m proud of the woman you’ve become, Spud.”

A mist of tears prickled your eyes as you mumbled out a “Thanks, dad.” After a beat, you added, “Must you keep up with that nickname?”

“Of course. You’ll always be my little Spud,” he laughed as you rolled your eyes. “Oh, by the way, we’re going to the Millers on Saturday for your welcome home party.”

“What’s all this?” Joel questioned as Tommy and Sarah placed a heavy, wrapped package on the table before him along with a few smaller presents. The remains of a birthday cake sat nearby, having been delightfully devoured by the Millers while celebrating Joel’s birthday.

“Just a little somethin’ from me and Sarah,” Tommy replied, a boyish grin alighting his handsome features.

Joel gazed between them with curiosity. Not big on celebrating his own aging, he rarely got big gifts. “You wanna help me open this, nugget?” Sarah’s eyes lit up, small hands reaching to tear the wrapping paper into shreds. It only took a few moments for the contents to be revealed, leaving Joel confused at the modern contraption sitting in front of him. “What am I supposed to do with this?”

“You play video games on it, dumbass.” Tommy harumphed as he began a diatribe on the features of the gaming system – he had one just like it at his place and it provided hours of entertainment when he didn’t feel like going out. “I figured it would be a good hobby for you since you never want to join me in going out.”

“Huh,” Joel grunted in return, brows furrowed as he read the instructions on how to setup up the machine. His attention was diverted by Sarah shoving the smaller parcels into his lap.

“Here, dad! These go with it.” Together, they tore into the wrapping paper to find several video games, a few of which were family friendly. The final gift was a spare controller for the gaming system so he and Sarah could play together.

Despite still being unsure that the gift was a good fit for him, Joel was grateful to Tommy for the effort. “This is too much, man. You shouldn’t spend this kind of money on me, Tommy.”

His brother waved him off. “I found a great deal and you never get anything for yourself, brother. You deserve something to indulge in. Believe me, you’ll have fun with this.”

The rest of the evening was spent with Tommy setting up the system and showing the father-daughter duo how to play some of the games he picked out. The living room filled with lots of laughter and teasing, and Joel found himself really getting into the fun of the video games.

After tucking Sarah into bed, Tommy showed Joel a game that was too violent for the little girl but entertaining for the men. The game was set in Washington DC which had been ravaged by a brutal pandemic and the main character was part of a group of agents fighting off nefarious gangs trying to take over the city. Joel caught onto the gameplay quickly and the two men found themselves building the loadout for Joel’s character, taking out bad guys, and chatting well into the night.

At two in the morning, the pair looked at each other with bleary, red-rimmed eyes and finally called it a night. Joel directed Tommy to crash in the spare room as he shuffled off to bed upstairs.

It didn’t take you long to get settled into your dad’s house. It wasn’t the home you grew up in and you only visited a few times after he bought it. After years living away on your own, you thought it would be an adjustment being under his roof again, but it wasn’t. He understood the need for personal space and never hovered unless you were hurt or sick. He gave you the downstairs bedroom – it was the largest in the house, with an ensuite bath and huge walk-in closet.

“Dad, no! Why in the world is this not your room?” you questioned when he placed your bags on the brand-new, king size bed he had delivered the week prior.

“Hell no, Spud. What do I need all this space for? I like the upstairs rooms better – the light is all wrong in this one anyway.”

You looked around, holding in a giggle. The room faced south, giving you just the right amount of natural light all day. That’s what your dad didn’t like. He preferred to live like a bat in a cave with blackout curtains and limited lighting.

“Alright, well, I love it. The natural light is perfect for me. I can actually put some plants on the windowsills. Thank you!” You kissed his cheek as he left you to get settled.

You spent the week rearranging the bedroom how you wanted it, setting up your gaming system, and putting all your clothes into the walk-in closet. Your dad hadn’t done much with the room other than furnish it, so you made a few trips to the store to get a bathroom set, floor lamps, and wall décor to make the room your own.

Before you knew it, Saturday morning dawned bright and warm. The day of your welcome home gathering arrived, and you would finally get to meet the Millers. An excited energy had you moving about your space in a flurry, tidying up and getting ready early. You’d seen some photos of the Millers that your dad sent you – Sarah was adorable with her dark, springy curls, and Joel… Joel was handsome, in a broody, overworked kind of way, with dark, riotous curls and big, warm chocolate eyes. Kind eyes, you called them.

“Hey Spud, you ready?” your dad called from the kitchen as you put the finishing touches on your hair. It was pinned up, leaving the smooth skin of your neck bare. The sundress you picked hugged your curves in just the right way, falling just at your knees in a flow of lightweight material. In early October, Austin was still hot, and you hoped the Millers’ yard was shaded.

“Bring a swimsuit! They have a pool!” he yelled as you grabbed the last of your things. Turning back to your closet, you grabbed a dark green one-piece suitable for family-friendly swimming and tucked it into your bag.

“I’m ready!”

Your dad smiled at the sight of you. “Let’s go then. We’re heading over early so you can officially meet the Millers and we’ll help them setup before everyone else arrives.”

“Sounds good. Who all’s coming anyway?” Your eyes widened as your dad rattled off a list of people he invited, including his work buddies and some of his and Joel’s neighbors. He would have invited some of your old friends from high school, but you all lost touch over the years. The party was turning out bigger than you thought. Your heart swelled with how happy your dad was to have you home for good.

The Millers lived in the same neighborhood, only a few blocks away, so close you could have walked if not for the scorching sun. The drive took only a few minutes before your dad pulled into the driveway of a two-story home similar to your dad’s, with simple landscaping and two wooden rocking chairs on the wide porch. Lovely and quaint, the house made you more curious about the people who lived there.

“Dayum! Get a load a JB’s daughter, Joel,” Tommy called from the living room, leaning over the couch to look out the front window. “She’s smokin’ hot!”

“Dammit, Tommy. Stop spying on ‘em,” Joel growled, sneaking a peek over his brother’s shoulder to do a little hypocritical spying of his own. Breath caught in his throat at the sight of you and he couldn’t break his gaze away, even as JB led you toward the front door.

“What was that about spyin’, brother?” Tommy teased, practically dragging Joel away from the window as a knock sounded against the door. “Don’t worry, I’ll get it.”

Tommy opened the heavy wooden door revealing the pair of you standing there, matching bright eyes and wide grins greeting him. “Well, hello there, beautiful. I’m Tommy.” Reaching a hand toward you, Tommy completely ignored JB, who just scowled at him.

“Nice to meet you, Tommy,” you replied, offering him your hand and name in return. Joel’s scowl matched your dad’s expression as Tommy held your hand for several beats too long.

“Back off, Tommy,” your dad grunted, swatting at the younger Miller brother. “This here is Tommy’s brother, Joel. The one who actually owns this house and the better Miller, if you ask me.”

“Ain’t no one askin’ you, old man,” Tommy’s smart mouth shot back at your dad.

Joel ignored both men, eyes like dark pools as he gazed at you, awed at how small and delicate your hand felt in his. “Howdy, darlin’,” his voice rumbled from his chest. “Come on in. There’s someone else lookin’ forward to meeting you.”

Leading the way through the kitchen into the backyard, Joel felt the heat of your gaze burning his back. Were you checking him out? There was no way. You were beautiful and likely in your early twenties. He felt ancient, though he was only in his early thirties, the hard labor of construction work having taken its toll on him.

“Hi Dad!” a young, sweet voice called from a small swing set where a precious little girl entertained herself. “Who’s this?”

Joel introduced you to his daughter, leaving the two of you to get acquainted as your dad called him away.

“You were away at college?” Sarah questioned, motioning for you to take a seat on the swing next to hers.

“I was,” you replied. “But I’m back for good now.”

“That’s good. What grade did you get to? I’m in fourth grade.”

You thought about it a moment. “I guess it would be 18th grade. But you stop counting grade numbers after 12th and start using different words to describe what year you’re in during college.”

Sarah listened raptly while you explained the different terms, what you studied in school, and what kind of job you were hoping to get.

“You want to be a teacher?” she asked, awed.

“I do! I want to teach middle grade science.”

“I love science! Maybe you could be my teacher when I get to sixth grade!”

Joel returned with your dad and Tommy in tow to find you and Sarah having a blast. The little girl sat in your lap as you kicked your feet out, swinging as high as you could, singing some camp song you remembered from your youth.

“See? Told ya she’d love to spend time with Sarah,” your dad said to Joel. He couldn’t tear his gaze away, staring at the two of you with a glazed look in his dark eyes.

Shaking himself off, Joel turned to your dad. “Guess I better work out some details with her.” He stepped over to the swing set, taking a seat on the empty swing and hoping to the heavens above that it held his weight. He struggled internally on how to start the conversation and was just about to blurt something out when his amazing daughter saved the day.

“Dad! She wants to be a teacher! A science teacher! Isn’t that cool? Did you ask her about watching me yet? I think she’d love to.” Sarah rambled on excitedly, amusing you and Joel. Turning to you before Joel could chime in, Sarah turned to you with baby cow eyes, adding, “You would love to, right?”

How could you ever resist that look? No one could. Both you and Joel were powerless as you nodded, and the offer became official. Cell numbers were exchanged and before you knew it, you had a job starting Monday.

Hours later, slightly drunk on spiked fruit punch and buzzing with energy, you thanked Joel for hosting the barbecue and giving you a job. You kissed his stubbled cheek, forcing thoughts of how attractive he was as far down as they could go. You could not develop a crush on your boss. “I’ll see you Monday morning, bright and early!” you declared before following your dad through the front door.

TBC

#joel miller #joel miller x reader #joel x female reader #the last of us #tlou #dbf!joel #Fall Into Me #pedro pascal #eventual smut #eventual romance

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endlessthxxghts · 22 days

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Ch1: New Beginnings

teacher!reader x student's dad!Frankie Morales || W/C: 8.8k

Ch. Summary: Frankie gets introduced to a new opportunity for his daughter, Elena. You get introduced to your new job. In celebration of these new beginnings, you both set out to a night at the bar, completely unaware that your paths are about to cross.

Content/Warnings: F!reader (she/her), female sex anatomy, reader is able-bodied. No physical descriptions of reader. Slight description of reader’s outfit (no size descriptions). Tío Santi (& TF Miller boys) makes an appearance. Slight implication reader understands some Spanish. Going out to bar/consumption of alcohol. Flirting. POV switch, mainly Frankie this chapter. SMUT 18+ MDNI. Sexual activity while under the influence of alcohol (you've slowed down your alcohol intake by that point, though). “Author Chose Not to Apply Archive Warnings” because it may result in spoilers (but there’s smut here…).

A/N: thank you to @honeyedmiller for proof-reading this for me, and thank you to @javierpena-inatacvest for peer pressuring me into giving my little idea an actual chance. I love love love you both sm🩶 to everyone, I truly hope you enjoy!! All my love xx

series masterlist || main masterlist || updates blog

August 2024

“Thank you so much for coming in, Mr. Morales.”

“It’s no problem at all, Mrs. Adams, is- is, um, is everything okay? Is Elena doing alright?” Frankie asks the second grade teacher, concerned.

The school year hasn’t started yet, but from time to time, the school does accelerated summer sessions that last a few weeks up until the actual start date of the school year. Elena always attends these sessions, begging her dad every summer to sign her up for one because I need to learn more! she’d tell him. How could he deny her the chance to expand that beautiful mind of hers?

“Oh, yes, everything is good! Elena is wonderful, and that’s actually why I asked you to come in,” she states. “Are you aware of how smart that girl is?”

Frankie can’t help the cheesy grin that spreads across his face. “Yeah, she’s always too excited to show me her progress reports and report cards, always pulling them out before we even leave the parking lot at the end of her days,” he beams.

“Oh, I bet. She blows me away everyday, that girl,” Mrs. Adams says genuinely. “So much so that I actually think she shouldn’t be attending here anymore,” the teacher adds, softer than the rest of her previous statements.

Frankie’s eyebrows twist in confusion. “What do you mean?”

“Well, don’t get me wrong, I love having Elena, and everyone in this school loves her, too. She’s one of our brightest. But,” she sighs. “She is so damn smart, Mr. Morales. I’d go as far as to say she’s a prodigy.”

“Oh,” Frankie says, pleasantly surprised and confused. He still doesn’t know where she’s getting at. He tells her as much.

“What I’m trying to say is- Elena isn’t getting the proper brain stimulation someone of her level needs. She needs to go somewhere that will increase her levels at the fast rate she’s moving and somewhere that will stimulate the creative parts of her brain. Traditional public school—at least here—cannot provide her with that.”

Frankie has always known his daughter’s natural intelligence. She often comes home either excited because they worked on a topic she’s really good at, or she comes home really bored and exhausted—because they worked on a topic she’s really good at. It’s too repetitive for her, but he wasn’t sure what other options he had.

Frankie takes a moment to think. “Even if I did move her to a school that has all this, it sounds like it would cost a lot of money. Money that I unfortunately don’t have right now,” he says with a heavy breath.

Mrs. Adams’ smile grows ten times bigger. “Mr. Morales-”

“Frankie, please,” he corrects.

“Frankie, there’s a school for the gifted connected to our local university just a few miles down the way. I used to work there, and I have friends there. Please forgive me if I’ve overstepped, but I’ve spoken to the Director of Admissions. There’s a waitlist, and barely any get admitted—and it’s by semester, so you’ll have to keep up with re-enrolling her—but I told them all about Elena. They want her, Frankie. No waitlist. No tuition. They want her for this new semester. And I really think you should go for it.”

Frankie sits in Mrs. Adams’ office, utterly stunned. He’s sure his jaw is on the floor right now, eyes bugged out like those squeezable stress toys. “I- I don’t know what to say…” Frankie trails off.

“I know it’s a big step,” the teacher comforts. “But think about it.” She pulls out a card from her desk and hands it to him. “Here’s the director’s card. I’ll reach out to them to make sure they know to expect your call.”

Frankie knows this is a good thing. He knows these are once in a lifetime opportunities, and he knows if he goes through with this now, those rare opportunities won’t be so rare for her as she gets older. That’s all he wants for his daughter; nothing but opportunity and the right kind of challenges meant to help her grow as a person.

So why does he feel so nervous? He’s dealt with change before, and he’s dealt with last-minute, under pressure change up in the sky where his life could’ve been on the line—but nothing compares to the anxiety when it involves Elena. Since she was born, she is all he’s ever known. It’s been him and her against the world, and although some days are more difficult than others doing this parenting thing alone, Frankie wouldn’t have it any other way.

He gives Mrs. Adams his thank yous and goodbyes, and makes his way to the front office. It’s 12 o’ clock right now—recess time—but he wouldn’t doubt she’s propped up against a pillar with her nose in a book. He decides to check Elena out early and take her to go get dessert.

“She’ll be escorted here in a few minutes,” the front desk lady tells him.

“Thank you, ma’am,” Frankie says, resting his back against the wall.

A few minutes pass and the office’s door bursts open with the heartwarming sounds of his daughter’s giggles, an excited aura filling the room. “¡Papi!” she squeals, immediately wrapping her arms around the parts of her father she can reach.

“¡Mija!” he says, matching her energy, pulling her in for a tight squeeze. He kneels down to reach her level, placing a kiss on her forehead before he speaks. “Wanna go get dessert?”

Her eyes light up like a million stars. “Please!!” she replies, her entire body shaking in Frankie’s grasp.

Frankie picks her up, and they make their way to the car. Buckling her into her car seat, Frankie settles himself to the driver’s seat and asks the burning question before he pulls off. “Brownie sundae spot or-”

“BROWNIE!” Elena replies immediately. Frankie has to slap his mouth to stop from the uncontrollable laughter bubbling out from his chest. He knew what her answer would be. “Okay, mija, brownie spot it is.”

Their usual brownie sundae spot is in a little diner up the street from their house. Frankie began this little tradition as a way to celebrate Elena’s wins and milestones. The first milestone they celebrated was for her first word: airplane. Frankie was ecstatic, practically jumping up and down with Elena in his arms until his best friend, Santiago, had to calm him down. “Ay, tranquilo, tranquilo,” relax, relax, he said, holding his hands softly around Elena’s little head.

Today’s milestone, however, is much bigger than any they’ve celebrated, and the notion is not lost on little Elena.

“Papi,” she calls. “Are we celebrating something?”

Frankie chuckles to himself, loving how easily she can put things together. “We might be, mi amorcito.”

“Hm?” She hums, eyebrows furrowed and head tilted to the side as she settles into the booth seat, sitting across from her dad.

Their usual waiter comes before they can continue their conversation. “Hey, guys! The usual?”

Elena answers first, very excitedly. “YES, YES, BROWNIE SUNDAE!!!” She squeals as she elongates every syllable. Frankie confirms with a head nod as he chuckles at her energy.

“What’s the occasion?” The waiter says softer, directing the question to Frankie.

“We’ll see after I talk with this little lady,” Frankie tells the waiter, extending his long arm out to pinch Elena’s little cheek.

The waiter smiles and walks off, putting the order in with the kitchen and asking for a little bit of a delay to give Frankie enough time to talk things through with his daughter.

“So,” Frankie states.

“So,” his daughter mirrors, putting on her best serious face while fighting the huge grin that wants to break free.

“Do you know how smart you are, mija?” Frankie asks, smiling because he knows what she’s gonna say. Duh, papi, he thinks in his head.

“Duh, papi!” She says, a troublemaking giggle she’s had since her babbling stages echoes their little corner of the diner.

“Alright, little smart ah-” Frankie coughs to stop his mouth. “You little smarty pants,” he corrects himself.

“Daddy, were you about to call me a smartass?” She scolds.

His cheeks flush a bright red. “You spend too much time with Tío Santi,” he deadpans.

She hums, nodding her head triumphantly.

“Anyway,” he says, noting in his mind to scold Santi for his mouth around his little girl. “You’re so smart, mija, I was wondering… well, I was wondering if you feel like you’re actually learning?”

“What do you mean, papi?”

“Well, everything you’ve been learning so far is super easy for you, isn’t it?”

She ponders for a moment. “Yeah, it’s easy,” she confirms.

“Does it ever make you bored, how easy some days are?”

“A little, yeah,” she says a little softer. “But it’s okay because I end up helping my friends, and Mrs. Adams tells me I’m her assistant,” she giggles with pride.

“You’re too good, amor,” he chuckles. “But what if I told you,” he starts. Immediately, her interest is piqued. “A really fancy, really smart school heard about how smart you are?”

Her chocolate brown eyes widen, and her little jaw drops. “Me?! Really?!”

“Yes, baby!” Frankie can feel his excitement rising alongside hers, his initial nervousness fading just as quick. “And what if I told you they want you to go to their school?” Elena’s hands fly to her mouth, suppressing her squeals of joy. Frankie can hear her legs kicking back and forth underneath the table. “Would you wanna go, mi niña inteligente (my smart girl)?”

“So… I’ll learn harder things?” She asks.

“Yes,” he swallows thickly. Frankie thinks she’s having anxiety.

It’s not. “Then…” She settles for her usual diva answer. “Duh, papi!” She giggles, positively radiating pure excitement on this new journey she’s about to embark on.

She wiggles out of her side of the booth to crash into her father’s arms, pulling him into the tightest hug ever. As she pulls away and settles next to Frankie, the waiter comes out with the sundae, Congratulations! written in cursive on the side of the plate. Elena reads the message with ease, scooping up the red icing with her finger and licking it up. “Thank you!!” She exclaims to the waiter who murmurs a sweet smartest person I know with a ruffle to her curly head of hair.

The waiter looks at Frankie with a genuine smile, and Frankie returns it. This diner really has been there for all the Morales’ family wins. Frankie wonders what other miracles just might happen in this little building.

For the first time in your teaching career, you are nervous.

You’ve dealt with gifted children before, and you had no problems juggling public school and the extra side lessons you’d give to the occasional gifted child. People tend to underestimate the amount of prodigal children in the world due to the constant brushing off these adults like to give to developing humans. These little children deserve as much respect and care that any other human deserves, maybe even more. The children are our future, after all.

So, now that you’re starting a new job, in a school dedicated to your life’s passion—yeah, you’re pretty nervous.

This school was created by the state’s local university; it was their attempt at providing children with an enriching, stimulating environment that the typical school system couldn’t care enough to provide, and their attempt was an absolute success. It will take a little while to get themselves off their feet, so tuition and enrolling students is expensive compared to what you would pay for your child in the public education system.

However, with time and careful planning, the program’s ultimate goal is to adequately provide to childrens of all needs—regardless of their prodigal status—for little to no cost. It’s definitely an ambitious goal, but it’s one you’re absolutely ready and willing to stick around for.

You were hired this summer, August 1st to be exact. The principal—Ms. Sabatino—caught wind of the powerhouse of a teacher who goes above and beyond for her students, and she just had to have you on her team. Your interview wasn’t even a real interview: it was exchanging logistical information and showing you to your new home base, your new classroom. She told you if you wanted to take the time before the year officially started to make your classroom feel more like you, you could.

It took you about a week to settle the vibe of your classroom, and during your preparations, you met a few other teachers, instantly hitting it off with each other that they invited you to their “semester pregame,” they called it.

“You have to come, Ms. Powerhouse!” Ms. Smith—Linda, she corrected you—exclaimed.

“Powerhouse?!” You repeated, a little frightened. You knew coming in that the culture here was very tight-knit, but how fast does word really spread around here?

“Yeah, you powerhouse, you!” Mr. White—Blake—chimes in. “You’re all anyone is talking about! Honestly, we’ve been dying to meet you.”

And lastly, Ms. Marshall—Leah—joins in. “You’re a real legend, ya know that, don’t you? Sticking to the Rebel theme we got going on here,” she smirks, referring to their school’s mascot, the Rebels.

You flush under all their praise. “I really don’t know what you guys are talking about,” you say softly. “I’m just trying to do what’s best for our kiddos, like any of us would.” A proud smile graces your face, and not for the things you’ve done, but for the amazing students you’ve had the honor of meeting and teaching. There truly isn’t a better feeling.

The three teachers share a knowing look, the one that tells you they think you’re just trying to be humble. Their hums of secret agreement don’t escape your super-teacher hearing.

Ms. Marshall is the one to speak again. “Are you going to come though? We really would love to have you. We’ve been trying to find someone who can hold their alcohol better than Mr. Lightweight here can,” she cackles, pointing over to Mr. White, who now has an offended look on his face.

“I’ll have you know-” he starts. “Oh, Blake, enough with the excuses already!” Ms. Smith cuts him off.

You giggle at their banter, your apprehensiveness about this little squad slowly melting away. “I’m afraid if you’re looking for someone who can hold their own, that person is not me…but I would absolutely love to join you guys. When and where is this pregame?”

“YAAASSSSSS!” Ms. Smith is quick to squeal. She’s definitely the life of the party with these three. “We have it the Saturday before the semester starts! So, the 17th I believe. It’s a bit risky depending on how plastered we end up getting, but it’s all a part of the fun,” she says with a wink.

You reach for your phone in your back pocket, unlocking and letting your three new friends put their phone numbers in. You group text them so they have your number, too. “Perfect! I can’t wait,” you say sheepishly, your excitement slowly rising as their smiles begin to mirror your own. It’s been a while since you let yourself go and get lost in something else other than work, and you think this little pregame is exactly what you’ve been needing.

“Oh, come on, Fish! You have to come out with us!” Santi tells you, giving Frankie’s shoulder a punch of encouragement.

Frankie hisses at the impact, swatting Santi’s hand away with a scowl. “No.”

“Fish,” Santi reasons. “The Millers haven’t seen you in a hot minute since my ‘Lena girl was born, man. They miss you. Especially Benny, you know how sensitive that man gets. And! We need to celebrate this new chapter for you and ‘Lena!”

“We already celebrated,” Frankie corrects. “At the diner.”

“An adult celebration, Fish. When was the last time you let yourself go?”

Frankie sighs. Santi’s right. “Who would watch Elena?”

“I already spoke with Yavonna last night,” Santi says, a tinge of hope laced in his voice.

“Let me talk to Elena-”

“Fish, she’ll be fine-”

Frankie holds his hand out to signal Santi to shut up. “Let me talk to Elena,” he repeats, “and let her know our plans for tomorrow night. You know I don’t do anything without running it through with her first.”

Santi’s face is happier than a toddler getting ice cream for breakfast. He claps him on his shoulder, “Fuck yeah, man! Frontier boys back at it again!”

Frankie grimaces. “Pope, cállate, por favor,” shut up, please, he says, pinching the bridge of his nose as he kicks Santi out for the night.

“Tell ‘Lena Tío Santi says buenas noches (good night) please since her daddy likes to kick me out so soon,” Santi taunts, a fake offended look on his face.

“No,” Frankie says. Then he shuts the door.

Frankie lets a few moments pass to make sure Santi was out of sight before he calls out to his daughter. “Baby, tío Santi wishes you good night!”

Elena comes running down the stairs. “He left already?!”

“Yeah, sorry kiddo,” Frankie frowns, meeting her at the end of the stairs to kiss her forehead.

“It’s okay,” she says. “You kicked him out again, didn’t you, daddy?”

“Y-yeah, yeah I did,” Frankie stutters. There’s no lying to this little Einstein.

“Hey, baby?” Frankie says again, crouching down to his knees to meet her level. “Do you remember Yavonna? Tío Santi’s girlfriend?”

Her gears turn before recognition sparks in her eyes. “Yeah!”

“Well, would you be okay if papi went out tomorrow? And you and Yavonna have a girls’ night?” He asks.

Elena’s smile turns mischievous as she pulls her dad in for a hug, whispering in his ear. “Are you going on a date?”

“Mmm, tío Santi is nice and all, but he’s too much a pain in my ass for me to wanna go on a date with him,” he retorts. “So, no, no date. Just spending some time with your annoying uncle and some of our other old friends.”

“Oh, okay,” Elena says as she giggles. “Have fun, papi!”

“I will, baby, thank you,” he says, pulling her into one last hug before they both venture off to bed.

It’s Monday morning, one week before the semester starts, and Frankie is buzzing. He’s nervous and excited for his daughter, but he can tell this new environment is one that gets heavily involved—in both the child and the guardian’s life.

He’ll do anything for Elena, of course, and it isn’t like he wasn’t involved at her old school. But this one makes it feel like he’s also attending this place. The thought terrifies his socially anxious heart.

He puts his car in park and practices a few breathing exercises before he gets out. He has a meeting with the principal today—Ms. Sabatino?, he tries to remember. This meeting is for her to finally get to know him, and for the paperwork to get finalized. And because they aren’t charging him for this semester, he also needs to fill out some waivers.

He makes his way to her office, checking in at the front desk and waiting to be pulled back. His hand fidgets at his side, the nerves getting to him again.

“Mr. Morales?” A voice calls out, pulling him from his nerves. “Ms. Sabatino is ready for you, first door to your left.”

“Thank you,” he replies. He softly knocks on the door before entering.

“Mr. Morales! Come in, come in!” Ms. Sabatino waves him over. “Sit, make yourself comfortable! It’s so nice to finally meet you.”

“It’s nice to meet you as well, ma’am, and please, just Frankie is good,” he tells her, a slight shyness in his voice and demeanor.

“Okay then, Frankie,” she smiles. “Let’s see here,” she says, squinting to her computer. “Do you have the enrollment forms?”

“Yes, right here,” Frankie sets the folder in front of her.

“Perfect, thank you,” she replies. “Here, you fill these waiver forms out that we talked about while I upload your forms in for Elena’s profile.”

Frankie mutters a quick okay, sounds good, before Ms. Sabatino speaks again. “While we get through these formalities though, did you have any questions for me? About the program, the teachers, literally anything at all besides what the meaning of life is?” she tries to joke, sensing Frankie’s anxiety.

Mrs. Adams already gave him the rundown of this place, but the financial conversation has been clouding his mind since he first found out about this place. “Well, actually, yes, I wanted to talk to you about the cost,” he starts.

“The cost is no issue, I promise you,” she reassures. But it’s not that. Although Frankie has major social anxiety, he’ll be damned if he comes off as a freeloader—even though absolutely no one here views him that way.

“No, I understand, but it’s more so that-” he pauses, taking a deep breath before he tries again. “I’m a single dad. I’m the one catering for both Elena and I. We’re not very well off, but we’re also not entirely poor. Just enough to…not really afford this place,” he shakes his head, he’s rambling. “Anyway- sorry. What I’m trying to say is, money isn’t an issue, but I can’t just sit here and not do anything to pay you guys back, even if it isn’t in a monetary sense.”

This piques the principal’s interest. She nods her head, taking a moment to measure her response. The computer pings as she thinks to herself, signaling that it’s done uploading the forms. She hands Frankie the folder back. He takes it, handing her the completed waiver. “I respect it,” she finally states. “A lot.”

“Y-yeah,” he says, not really sure how to respond to that.

Ms. Sabatino spins in her chair, pausing towards a drawer underneath her desk. She pulls out a little booklet of some sort.

“I have one idea,” she offers.

Frankie’s ears perch up. “Yeah? Anything,” he replies.

“It’s a lot to ask of a parent,” she says. “And I know you’re eager, but hear me out before you agree. And if you’d like to say no, then say no, that’s all I ask.”

“Deal,” Frankie tells her.

“So, last semester, the head of our PTA—the Parent-Teacher Association—quit on us. She quit and also unenrolled her child. Some weird drama, it was very unavoidable if she knew how to communicate properly… anyway, we are actually in need of a new head. I will admit, it’s a lot, but you’ll have me by your side, and I know a few of the parents would help show you the ropes and help you with anything you need.”

Out of everything, Frankie was not expecting this. It’s evident in the shocked look on his face.

“Like I said, I don’t need an answer right now-”

“What about the existing PTA parents?” Frankie blurts out. He may have not been PTA-level involved with his daughter, but he knows the seriousness in which parents take their roles when it comes to this.

“I appoint the head, and choosing one out of all of them would… to be frank… be a bloodbath. This PTA needs a fresh face. A new perspective. I can tell you’re nervous, but I can also tell you’re ambitious. I can tell you’d do anything for your daughter first and foremost. That is what my PTA needs. The rest of those parents- God- I love them, but they’re more worried about looking good and their brownie points with me than their kids’ experiences.”

If Frankie was unsure before, he definitely isn’t now. All he wants is the best for his daughter, and honestly, it makes him disappointed to hear where these parents’ priorities are. He’s absolutely scared shitless about doing this, but he can’t stop the next words that come out of his mouth. “I’ll do it.”

Her eyebrows fly up. “Are you sure?”

He isn't, he thinks. “Yes,” he tells her.

“Oh- okay, then,” Ms. Sabatino smiles bigger than before. She picks up the booklet from earlier and hands it to Frankie. “Read this over- they’re just some little rules we’ve established to keep the environment thriving for our kids. We’ve never had any issues before…besides last semester… but yeah, it’s just a precautionary measure. Thank you so much again, Frankie, and please if it does get too much, do not hesitate to let me know if you’d like to quit.”

He looks down to the book in his hand. The Rebels Guide - PTA Addition. He’s definitely not cut out for this. “Thank you, Ms. Sabatino. I’ll let you know. And I really appreciate you considering me for this. You have a good rest of your day,” Frankie says as he exits.

What the fuck am I doing? He thinks to himself as he gets himself into his car.

The rule book stares at Frankie as he drives. Stopped at a red light, he decides to place it in the glove compartment of his car. He’ll grab it later. For now, he needs it out of his view before he spirals.

Saturday, August 17th. Semester Pregame Day.

You’re in the middle of picking out your outfit when a flood of texts come through your phone.

[5:47PM Linda] You bitches ready?!

[5:48PM Leah] I’ve been ready, just waiting on Mr. Lightweight to get here…

[5:48PM Blake] Yeah okay, I’m not giving you a ride anymore, good luck.

[5:49PM Leah] Blake, I’m kidding, get your ass over here.

[5:49PM Blake] I’ve been outside, smartass.

[5:53PM Leah] Linda, we’re on the way to you. Ms. Powerhouse, are you sure you don’t want a ride?

[5:55PM] Please do not call me that.. And yes, I’m sure! I’m still picking out what I’m gonna wear to be honest. I think I’m gonna be a few minutes late.

[5:56PM Linda] OOOOO GIRL ARE YOU TRYING TO GET LAID?

[5:57PM Leah] 👀

[5:57PM Leah] Blake is driving, but he also would like to say: 👀

[5:58PM] Umm. No. I can’t make myself look nice for my friends?

[5:58PM Linda] In this world? Not without a motif, no.

[5:59PM] Wow.

[5:59PM] Okay, I’ve gotta finish getting ready. See you guys in a bit.

You toss your phone on your bed, not wanting to make yourself any later than you already are. They are right, you don’t necessarily have to get all dressed up. And it’s not like you’re getting laid anytime soon, let alone tonight. Right? Gosh, it’s been a hot minute since you’ve had any action. Well, okay, if you count your trustee wand, then it’s been about an hour since you’ve got some… but human interaction? Yeah, no.

You shake away the deprived thoughts your new friends planted in your brain settling for a sage green tank top with a lace lining at your chest. Something casual yet not too casual, slightly flashy but not too flashy. And since it’s in the middle of August, you decide on some black jean shorts.

It’s 6:15 by the time you head in your car. They wanted to get there around 6:30, so you’re not too far behind after all. It definitely helps that the bar they chose was a seven minute drive.

When you enter the bar, you spot the trio immediately, huddled by a tall table, all already cheering with shots. Linda spots you with a squeal, sending Leah to grab another round with a fourth shot this time.

With the mischievous party glint in her eyes, already you can tell what kind of night you’re going to have. One that makes you think maybe you should’ve caught a ride.

The first shot goes down roughly, an immediate fiery burn sliding down your throat as Linda shoves a lime in your mouth afterwards. “Tequiiilllaaaa shootttsss!!” She sings, already on her fourth to your first.

The second and third round slides down much smoother, your entire body beginning to heat up from its effects. Tequila has always had a fast effect on you, making you buzzed after one shot and effectively fucking you up after the third. Maybe you were a lightweight. Nonetheless, you indulge in one more peer-pressured round from Linda before you settle on a sugary sweet mixed drink paired with a glass of ice cold water.

Linda disappears to the small dance floor while Blake convinces the people at the pool table to let him join. It’s just you and Leah at the table now, talking here and there, but mainly just watching the other two have their fun from afar.

“So how long have you guys been doing this?” You shout over the loud music. Once the clock hit 7pm, the music was definitely hitting the threshold for ear damage.

Leah looks at you with a genuine smile. She’s content watching her friends be social butterflies. She has them in her presence and that’s all that matters. “We’ve been doing this for a few years now, really. Linda was at the school first, then I got hired a semester after her. Then Blake got hired a semester after me. And because we were all relatively new, we all just sort of- gravitated towards each other,” she explains. “I don’t know what I’d do without them, honestly. In and outside of the school, those two are very important in my life,” she breathes in a sniffle, quiet enough to go unheard, but since you’re watching her, you catch it in combination with a tear she sneakily wipes away.

It’s your turn for your eyes to gloss up. “That’s really beautiful,” you tell her.

Leah laughs a little. “Yeah. But don’t tell them though. I’ll have to strangle you,” she says in a mock sternness. Weirdly enough, you think there’s truth behind that.

You pull your hands up in a surrendering motion, “Promise,” you respond with a smirk. “I’m gonna go get another drink. Want?”

“What are you getting?”

“Was honestly just gonna sip on beer and water the rest of the night. I’m tapped out.”

“Me too,” she grins. “I’ll get what you get.”

Making your way up to the bartender, you politely wait until she comes up to you. “What can I get you, doll?”

“Two beers, please, and also two waters, but can you give me the waters after I set the beers down at my table?” you ask a little shyly.

The bartender gives you a sweet smile. “I got you, honey.”

She hands you the beers, and you make your way to Leah. “I gotta grab the waters real fast, give me one second,” you say, already whipping around and making your way back.

In that short span of time, the bartender was met with a crowd of needy newly aged adults, swarming her with requests. She looks at you, but you give her a nod, signaling it’s okay.

Two minutes, she mouths.

You sit down on the stool in front of you while you wait, turning to check on Leah. Her eyes are back on her friends, a warmth radiating from her smile. Only now, you’re a part of her rotation, and the warmth is reciprocated to you, too. And to think you were hesitant with this bunch.

As you sit and wait for the bartender, a group of four rowdy men take up the bar space beside you. One of them even bumps into your side, and you’re quick to jump. “Hey, watch it!” You yell over the noise.

A large hand grabs onto the guy’s shoulder and pulls him away from you. The bar is loud, but it doesn’t stop his deep gruff from blessing your ears. “Benny, watch where you’re fucking going, man!”

“Oh, shit,” the tall, lean man turns to you. “I’m so sorry, I wasn’t paying attention..” he starts. You can feel the man fight for his life to stay on your eyes. He darts to your lips for a millisecond before he brings them back up. “Can I… Let me buy you a drink? To apologize?” He smirks like he just pulled the smoothest flirt attempt ever. Your eyebrows furrow in annoyance, but before you can say anything, the large hand from earlier is pulling the man—Benny, apparently—away from you and to the other end where their other friends are. “Pendejo,” he mutters under his breath towards his friend.

You stifle a giggle. The man, your savior, finally actually looks at you, and at first he was going to ask if you understood what he said, but the moment your eyes meet, it’s like all the airflow was vacuumed clean out of his lungs, leaving him mentally gasping like a fish out of water. Physically, though, he keeps it cool. Or, at least, tries to.

“Hi- uh, I’m- I’m Frankie- look, I’m real sorry about my friend back there, he can be real stupid sometimes,” he mutters, his rosy cheeks bright on display, no alcohol to blame it on.

As he rambles, only then are you able to get a good look at this man—at Frankie, he calls himself. A baseball cap sits on his head, hiding what you can make out as curly hair. The dim light of the bar ruins your view slightly, but you are both near the warm light that emanates from the side of the bar, so your view is not completely obstructed. You can see beautiful brown, puppy dog eyes with a pretty scruff that grows haphazardly across his cheeks and jaw, and above his lip, too.

“Don’t worry about it, Frankie,” you manage as you look up at him. He’s still standing. You’re sitting on an elevated bar seat, and you still have to crane your neck. Good lord, he’s tall. You introduce yourself with a smile, holding your hand out for him to take. You have to fight your body not to shudder at the warmth of his hand.

Little do you know, he’s also fighting the same battle as you.

“Can I get you a drink, Frankie?” you ask. Usually you’d never do this, but there is just something about him. You need to know more.

“Uh,” you see him flush, an internal battle going on in his brain. Is it the battle of the so-called bro-code where he can’t hit on you because his friend did or because he should be offering you a drink?

He looks back to his friend. Yup, the bro-code. You quirk your brow at him.

“Yeah, okay,” he says with a grin as he perches himself to the bar seat beside you. “I’ll have a beer,” he tells you.

“Coming right up,” you smirk, winking at him before you try and regain the bartender’s attention.

You text Leah a quick I’m sorry, to which she replies with the eyes emoji again along with a winky face. Of course she saw everything.

The bartender comes to you and apologizes for earlier with the other group and then apologizes again when she admits she completely forgot to come back to you. She tells you this round of beers for you and Frankie are on the house. You try to tip her, but she doesn’t accept.

Frankie is really nice. Really handsome…and sexy…but you try to ignore the heat tingling between your legs because of the fact that Frankie is really nice.

As your two beers listen in on your conversation, untouched and sweaty, you’ve come to learn a good amount about Frankie. Like the fact that he’s a bashful boy, but you can tell he has no problem getting what he wants when the confidence strikes him. You’ve been witness to it a few times tonight—a hand on your knee there, a tucking of your hair behind your ear here, a long glance at your lips as you lick the residual drip of your drink—and it does nothing to calm your core’s ache.

The one that really sent you over the edge though was when he made you laugh particularly hard, your reaction was to lean into him. He took the opportunity to grab onto your seat and pull you against him, his thick highs entrapping both of yours.

“Oh-!” you gasp involuntarily, your eyes immediately searching for his. His gaze is dark, and so is yours.

Although quite nervous, Frankie’s confidence has spiked being in your presence. His thumb and forefinger come up to your chin, steadying and making your heartbeat erratic all in one. He leans closer in, the tips of each of your noses a hair’s width away. “You’re intoxicating,” he whispers.

“I could say the same thing about you,” you whisper back, feeling lightheaded and not from the alcohol coursing through your veins. “Been dying for you to touch me since you pulled your friend away,” you admit.

You see his Adam's apple bob in his throat. He looks past you, eyeing the single stall bathroom. You scanned the place earlier, you know where he’s looking. Tapping his thigh for him to look at you again, you give him a look of understanding before you break away from his grasp.

He faces the bar again, taking a deep breath to calm himself down. He catches Santi and the Millers staring at him from the pool table they took over. Santi shoots Frankie a wink while Benny looks like a puppy who’s been kicked to the curb. Frankie really couldn’t care less right now.

Satisfied with the little window of time he gave, he stands from his seat, taking one more swig of beer before he makes his way to you. He knocks on the door softly, and you open it right away, pulling him in and immediately shutting it again.

Like a calculated dance, his hand goes back to lock the door while your hand grasps onto the fabric of his shirt at his chest, pulling his body flush against yours. Your hands take their time in coasting the plain of his broad chest and shoulders. Your thighs clench at the sensation.

His lips meet yours for the first time tonight, and he can feel every nerve in his body spark with electricity. Your lingering taste of all the drinks you had this evening mixed with a flavor he thinks is distinctly you consumes each of his senses.

Oh, you have him wrapped around your pretty little finger and you don’t even know it yet.

He walks forward, backing you into the bathroom sink.

You hop up on your own, your legs spreading without any forethought for his broad form. His hands coast the expanse of your body, settling at your ass on the counter as he pulls you tighter into his body, your center coming into contact with this hardness. He practically growls into your mouth at the heat he feels radiating from you.

“Fuck, querida,” he moans, his teeth chasing your bottom lip.

“Frankie,” you beg. For what, you’re not entirely sure.

“Can I taste you?” He breathes heavily against your lips, fingers twitching to take action.

Fuck. “Ye- yeah- yeah, okay,” you stutter, eyes wide. Getting eaten out probably has to be one of your favorite things in the whole world, yet, with your dating history, it’s a rare occurrence. Your last boyfriend was disgusted by it, and your last girlfriend ended up cheating on you. So. Your experience of receiving oral was rare, and God did you miss it.

Frankie mistakes your surprise as fear. “Are- are you sure? I don’t have to, not if you’re not comfortable,” he says sincerely. He starts to pull away, not wanting to make you uncomfortable, but you’re quick to grab onto him.

“No, no, I’m sorry, that’s not what I-” you laugh a little breathlessly before looking into his soft eyes again. “Yes, Frankie, please. Please, I want your mouth on me,” you say, tone a little needy on the backend. “You just took me by surprise, is all,” you whisper.

“Surprise?” He can’t stop his curiosity.

“I- I don’t know, guys don’t usually like-”

You don’t get to finish your statement before Frankie’s face turns angry. He places a heady kiss to your lips before he brings his mouth down your jaw, your neck. “So what you’re saying is,” he starts, his breath tickling your neck. If you weren’t propped up on the counter, you’d be on the floor with how weak your legs feel. Making his way down, he places a soft kiss in between your breasts. “This pretty little thing hasn’t been treated properly in a long, long time?” He asks as he kneels down, his eyes looking up and devouring you in your entirety.

“How do you even know she’s pretty?” You quip back, matching his energy.

“Oh, I know she’s fucking gorgeous based on the rest of you,” he purrs, fingers working your button and zipper. He hooks his fingers at the waist, and you lift your hips to help him.

“You flatter me,” you shakily say as you try to tease, your resolve starting to break.

Frankie smirks up at you before his entire demeanor changes upon seeding your exposed lower half. His face falls into astonishment, as if he just won the damn lottery, as if his last fucking meal was just placed in front of him. “What’d I say?” He mutters to himself. “Fucking gorgeous,” he answers his own question before he gives you no time to respond as he dives right in, the flat of his tongue licking a slow wide stripe up your glistening went cunt.

“Oh, fuck,” a loud moan leaves you, your head falling back as you relish in the immediate pleasure that shoots up your spine.

Frankie reluctantly breaks away to look at you, to check up on you, but your body is still shocked from the pleasure, and he grins, cheeks full of mischief. He hums to himself before he goes back in. “Fucking delicious, too.”

“Jesus, shit-” you murmur, trying to brace yourself for what you know is going to utterly ruin you.

He licks through your folds once more, slow and steady, calculated, measuring every small twitch and whimper that your body produces. His tongue moves up to your clit, circling around the area reveling in the way your breathing speeds up and your hips buck. Even with your movements chasing for more, he remains steadfast in his ministrations.

He continues his tease until he hears you huff. You’re getting impatient. “Baby, please,” you whine. “Please don’t tease,” you pout at him then, and whether it’s real or a ploy to get him to give in, how can Frankie say no to that face?

Without lifting from your cunt, Frankie switches from slow passes around your bud to attaching directly on it, suckling and flicking the sharp tip of his tongue across you. Your legs writhe under his expert touch, your hand flying to the baseball cap to his head and flinging it off to rake your fingers through his wild curls. He groans into you the second he feels your grip, his pace faltering for just a moment before he finds his way again.

Frankie detaches from you, dragging his tongue downward to your folds to lap up your slick. The squelch your pussy makes when his tongue makes contact is sinful. He lets his mouth wrap as much as he can around you, his tongue prodding at your entrance, testing your limits.

“Oh, Frankie, yes-” you lament, your hand pulling his face tight against your core as your hips force his pink muscle inside. His cock is definitely at full mast now, especially with how reactive you are for him. Your eyes are entirely white as you repeat his name like a prayer, your hips frantically meeting the thrusts of his tongue.

You grip tighter into his locks, angling his head slightly down, and fuckfuckfuck you squeal loudly, this angle causes his nose to nudge at your sensitive nerves perfectly with each push of his tongue inside of you.

“I’m c-close, Frankie- fuck- I’m gonna cum, baby, I’m gonna fucking cum- oh my God-” you practically scream, your body losing all strength as you fall back into the counter behind you, Frankie licking everything up while he tries to fuck you through your orgasm.

The vibrations of his moaning sends you into overdrive, and you’re so spaced out you don’t even realize Frankie’s been desperately humping nothing, bringing himself to an orgasm the same time as you. He lifts off from you completely, his breathing labored as his chin threatens to drip your arousal to the ground. Frankie’s fingers reach for his face, collecting up the residue only for him to bring it back up to his mouth. The sound of him sucking his fingers up like he just ate the sauciest of wings brings you back to reality, pulling your body up weakly as your eyes go wide when you realize what Frankie’s doing.

Your cheeks heat up, but your ability to tease is back. “That good, huh?”

“Finger lickin’, baby,” he says lazily.

He rises from his knees only for you to then notice the wet spot at his crotch. “Frankie-” you start.

“Yes, yes I did,” he finishes, knowing the question you were going to ask.

He bends down to pick up his hat, swiftly placing it back on his head while he grabs your shorts, putting them gently back in place.

“You okay?” He checks in.

You melt under his sweet attention. “Never better,” you beam.

You two stand there in each other’s presence before you finally pipe up. “So how do you wanna…” you trail off.

“You wanna head out first? I got a bit of a… mess to clean up anyway,” he says, gesturing to himself.

“Oh! Right, yeah. Okay,” you say awkwardly, as if his tongue wasn’t just inside of you. “I’ll see you out there,” you add as you turn around, opening the door just enough to slip out.

You stand there for a moment, giving yourself a second to register what the fuck just happened. You did not let a man you just met go down on you? At a bar, no less?!

You make your way to the bartender, needing an ice cold glass of water to cool you off. Your head is spinning, and it’s really not because of the alcohol anymore. But you blame the substance anyway.

Hearing the bathroom door creak, you turn around to see a blushing Frankie, his hat off his head and his hand shielding the wet patch between his legs. He sees you at the bar and he smiles, walking in your direction. However, before he can reach you, Linda magically appears in your face, drunk as shit and louder than you’ve ever experienced.

“There you are, silly!! Where’d you run off to?? Been looking for you, I swear it’s been like an hour!!!”

You look at Frankie over her shoulder, and he pauses in his tracks. You give him an apologetic smile. Before he can say it’s okay, the friends he was with finds him and drags him into a game of pool.

“Hey, sorry!” You scream over the music. “Just needed some time, it got a bit too loud in here,” you lie. You’re too overstimulated—in many ways as your clit throbs against the fabric of your wet panties—to handle more ridicule from these three. “I think I’m gonna head home now, though, I’m kind of tired,” you tell her. “Where’s Blake and Leah?”

She drags you back to your guys’ table, urging one more round of shots. You go with her to the bar to order the round, mouthing to the bartender to make yours water. She winks at you, and hands you your glass directly while Leah impressively holds the other three with a drunken ease.

When Frankie finally spots you, happy and laughing with your friends, he smiles to himself and decides not to interrupt your time. He can find you later.

Except, he doesn’t.

Monday, August 19th.

Sunday was a blur. It was spent downing more water to flush out your body while surfing every account on every social media platform you have for a Frankie in your area.

No luck. Of course.

Frankie’s Sunday was spent the exact same way, too, although he is much less tech savvy and his attempt only lasted an hour before he gave up and spent the rest of his day moping.

“¿Qué pasa, papi?” What’s wrong, daddy? Elena had asked him as she scarfed down her eggs.

“Estoy bien, mi amorcito,” I’m okay, my love, Frankie responded with a kiss on her head.

Elena didn’t bug further, but he knew she would soon.

Monday morning, Elena was way too eager for her new school, forcing her father up and making breakfast an entire hour before they actually needed to get up. Somehow, Elena even convinced Frankie to leave the house half an hour before they needed to leave, forcing them to wait in the empty parking lot until any sign of life emerged.

Elena buries her nose in a book, while Frankie sat there, watching the minutes tick by. As he stared at the building, red accents and Home of the Rebels painted in big white letters, he’s suddenly reminded of what Ms. Sabatino asked him.

He reaches over and grabs the handbook out of the glove compartment. He flips open to the first page to the table of contents, and the first section, written in italicized, bold letters catches his eye:

Ground Rules

He flips to the page.

He scans through each bullet point, each one feeling more and more like common sense, but with the way the principal described these parents, he realizes how necessary these so-called rules are.

His eyes scan the last bullet point, and he can’t help but bite back a laugh.

No parent-teacher relations. Parent will be kicked off the PTA. Teacher will be reprimanded. NO exceptions.

He flips through several more pages when Elena lets out a piercing shriek. “AHH! DADDY, DADDY, LET’S GO,” she’s jumping up and down as much as she can while being belted in her car seat. Frankie looks up to see a bustling crowd of children and their guardian. He sees Ms. Sabatino in the mix.

“Alright, alright, mi vida (my life), I’m coming,” Frankie soothes, giving a softer tone of voice that hopefully she mirrors. He gets out of the car and opens the passenger door behind him, unbuckling Elena and setting her down to the ground, grabbing her backpack and shuffling it onto her back.

Ms. Sabatino catches sight of Frankie and Elena, and excitedly makes her way over. She bends down to Elena’s level. “Good morning!! You must be Elena Morales, yes?”

“YES-” she stops herself and clears her throat. “Yes! Yes, that’s me!” She says, a decibel calmer.

Ms. Sabatino warms at her eagerness. “It’s very lovely to meet you, Elena, I’m Ms. Sabatino, the principal here!” She holds out her hand for Elena to shake. She takes it eagerly.

“It’s very nice to meet you!” Elena emphasizes, putting on her best charm. Frankie chuckles.

Ms. Sabatino rises. “Mr. Morales, it’s great to see you again!” He nods his head with a smile and a soft likewise. “May I walk you both to her class? I’d like to introduce you to her new teacher,” she directs the question towards both of them.

Elena looks elated. She turns around to look her father in the eye, Frankie’s very own signature puppy dog eyes reflected back to him. He doesn’t even need to hear the question to know what her answer would be if she pulls this card. “Oh, papi, please will you come?”

“Of course, baby,” he says, caressing the apple of her cheeks before she cheers in victory.

“Great!” Ms. Sabatino says with a clap to her hands. “Right this way.”

On the way to Elena’s new class, Ms. Sabatino really praises her new teacher. Apparently, she’s the best of the best. One of their newest hires, but she’s practically a veteran when it comes to teaching prodigal children. She’s a powerhouse, Ms. Sabatino calls her. He gets the feeling that the teacher doesn’t really like that label much.

When Ms. Sabatino opens the door to his classroom, the teacher is immediately there to introduce herself and welcome in little Elena.

Frankie really doesn’t know what happens next besides the fact that his heart thoroughly stops and Elena’s voice is a muffled daddy, what’s wrong? throughout his panicked mind.

What’s wrong? He thinks.

What’s wrong is that Elena’s new teacher is you.

And he is absolutely, wholeheartedly, positively screwed.

Fuck.

I hope you liked the first chapter of my new series, New Beginnings!🥹🥹 I poured everything I have into this story, and I’ve been so eager to share it with the rest of you. I hope you are able to love it as much as I do.

Follow & turn on notifs for @endlessthxxghtsnotifs to know exactly when a new chapter comes out!🫶

Comments/reblogs or any kind of feedback to let me know what you think is my favorite part about putting out a story!! Please let me know your thoughts!!! I love you all so much, and thank you for the endless support you all show me. I wouldn’t be here without you.

Floral dividers on top & bottom courtesy of @saradika-graphics <3 section dividers in middle of fic made by me!

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forever-rogue · 4 months

Note

I don’t know if your still taking request about Miguel but im going to shoot my shot 🕷️🕸️

What about a request where after arguing with the reader (hater to lovers) and he falls into a small crack of the universe and gets a glimpses of married life with her and them having kids. Then he realizes he doesn’t hate her🥲

Totally okay if you don’t want to write it 😊😊

AN | Miguel really is just a big old softie at heart! I hope you enjoy 🥰

Warnings | Language

Pairing | Miguel x Fem!Reader

Word Count | 2.5k

Masterlist | Main, Spider-Man

─── ･｡ﾟ☆: *.☽ .* :☆ﾟ. ───

“Yeah?” you tried to glare at Miguel with as much venom as possible. Judging from the unimpressed look on his face you realized your words probably didn’t land how you wanted them to, “well…well you’re big and stupid! And ugly.”

You heard a snicker from behind you and quickly turned to glare at Peter. He straightened up and cleared his throat immediately. The corner of his mouth ticked up in a smirk as you sighed internally, “that’s the best you could do?”

“I, I…umm…”

“No matter how convincing your words or points are, I’m not changing my mind,” he pushed past you, not even bothering to look you in the face. The rest of the spiders all parted for him, already whispering among themselves, “you’re off any missions from here on out.”

“I hate you!” you shouted at his retreating back, trying to swallow down the tears that threatened to well up and pour down your cheeks.

“I know you do,” of course he heard. Curse the super hearing, “I hate you too.”

You scoffed and turned on your heel, storming off to go anywhere but here. You hated Miguel, you hated his stupid face and his stupid rules and everything about.

Well, that’s what you were trying to convince yourself of anyway. But you knew, deep down, that it wasn’t true. You didn’t truly hate him. You didn’t think you were capable of doing that.

“Do none of you have anything better to do?!” you shouted loudly, waving your hand around as you stormed out to go…anywhere but there. You just knew that Peter and Miles were following after you, accompanied by some small coos from Mayday.

Only once you were back out in the fresh air, which currently did little to help your nerves, did you turn around to face your friends. You held up with your hands and shrugged at them, “well? Say what’s on your mind then.”

“That was…a lot,” Miles scratched the back of his neck awkwardly as he looked at Peter, “what happened?”

“Is this about what happened in-”

“Yes,” you hung your head with a heavy groan, “this is about Shanghai. Somehow it is all my fault and that means I cannot ever do anything again.”

“But it was…everyone’s fault,” the boys exchanged a look as Mayday made a small sound of confusion, “not just yours.”

“I’m well aware of that…I thought everyone was aware of that, but for some reason Miguel is not,” you scoffed at the sheer thought of him, “he has this like personal vendetta against me and I have no clue why. But I am so tired of it. Maybe he’s right though, maybe I’m not cut out for this.”

“You’re not seriously considering leaving?” Miles’ entire face dropped as you shrugged, “I’m sure he’ll be over it soon.”

“Even so…maybe it’s time I don’t do this anymore,” you waved your hand around, “maybe it’s time I’m not some sort of fool with a weird radioactive spider bit doing vigilante shit.”

“But…but-” Peter had no clue how to follow that up - he’s been through those exact thoughts several times before, “you can’t just leave.”

“I dunno Peter,” you whispered, “it’s a lot to think about. But for now I’ve gotta go. I’ll see you guys later, okay?”

“Promise you won’t leave leave without saying goodbye?” you’d miss these two most of all if you did leave. But you had your own decisions to make.

“Swear on it,” that much at least was a promise.

─── ･｡ﾟ☆: *.☽ .* :☆ﾟ. ───

Miguel stopped dead in his tracks as he looked across the park. Part of him was sure that his eyes were playing tricks on him, but no - this was a reality that was simply different from his own. Anything could happen…and apparently anything did happen.

Because there you were, crouched down and talking to a small boy that was staring back excitedly with a big smile on face. You reached out and ruffled his dark hair before he ran off again, running towards the jungle gym. You straightened back up and shook your head fondly. But then - then - the real surprise came…in the form of himself.

Alternate universe Miguel walked up to you and threw an arm around your shoulders as you shook on your tiptoes and pressed a kiss to his cheek. No fucking way. His breath hitched in his throat as he continued to watch the two of you, attempting to process what in the actual hell was happening. That’s when he noticed the bands on both of your fingers and the fact that the small boy you had been talking to looked suspiciously like a combination of both of you.

“No way,” the actual Miguel ran his hands through his hair in exasperation, “there’s no way.”

But…this was a different reality and he knew, maybe better than anybody, that anything was possible. He hung his head and sighed, pinching the bridge of his nose; he was here for a reason, for a job, and he couldn’t let himself get distracted, and potentially ruin any canon events. He could feel the pull of curiosity getting the better of him; this was definitely not a reality that was any of his bingo cards.

Really though, it should have been. Just because you believed he was an asshole, and let’s be honest he was, didn’t mean that he didn’t care about you. He probably cared too much if he was being honest, which had led to him being overprotective of you and then…led to the current situation at hand. But you had fallen into the belief that he hated you and then you started to hate him and…yeah. Things were a mess essentially, but he could at least rest easier knowing that you were safe.

He was going to turn around and complete what he was supposed to, really he was, but Miguel also knew that if you fell out of his view he’d probably never mind you again. And he had to know the current state of affairs between the two of you was.

With a heavy huff, he camouflaged himself and hopped into a tree closer to the two of you. It wasn’t spying or anything…it was just gathering some intel. Sure, yeah, that’s what he was going to go with.

“Did you get everything for dinner, amor?” you raised an eyebrow and looked at him curiously (he’d been on the receiving end of that look so many times), “and don’t even bother lying to me.”

“Of course I did,” Miguel knew that he was lying. He knew himself well enough.

“Miguel,” you huffed and he groaned lightly, “you didn’t get anything yet, did you?”

“I haven’t gotten anything,” he admitted and Miguel couldn’t help but laugh at himself, “I’m sorry, amor! I got so busy and I had Diego and…yeah.”

“Yeah?” your hands settled on your waist as you sighed heavily, but with nothing short of fondness. You reached over and patted his cheek gently, “how about I take Diego and then you can go to the store? The big dinner is tomorrow and we need to get started on everything tonight. Think you can handle that, big guy?”

Actual Miguel couldn’t help but laugh at this version; he was whipped for you. The real, or whatever you wanted to call him, wasn’t quite ready to fully admit that just yet. But deep down inside he knew it was true.

“Okay,” he leaned over and kissed you softly, “whatever you want, sweetheart.”

“Smart man,” you beamed at him and he wrapped his arms around your shoulder.

Miguel was watching with wide, curious eyes as the whole thing unwrapped. Eventually the two of you left, the small boy - who he assumed was named Diego - in tow. He wanted to keep following you but he knew that wouldn’t be productive in any sense. Instead he was just feeling all sorts of things.

He was so intent on wanting to learn every little bit of your life in the short time he had; he didn’t even hear Miles pop up behind him.

“What are you doing?” Miguel startled so harshly that he almost fell out of the tree. Instead, he narrowed his eyes and glared at the young spider, “everything alright here?”

“What are you…why - nevermind,” Miguel knew better than to question what Miles was doing there, “don’t sneak up on people like that, Miles.”

“Sorry,” the boy didn’t sound sorry at all, “you’ve been gone for a while and this seemed pretty simple so I wanted to make sure that nothing had gone wrong.”

“It’s fine,” Miguel hissed and looked around surreptitiously to make sure you and this Miguel had disappeared from view, “I just got a little…distracted.”

“Distracted?” Miles repeated. That was odd…Miguel was always all business and no play. Something was definitely going on, “are you sure you’re alright?”

When Miguel didn’t respond Miles looked around to see what could have gotten the man so distracted. He didn’t notice anything out of the ordinary and wasn’t able to draw any meaningful conclusions. Miguel turned to the younger boy with reddened cheeks and wild eyes, “yes. Now go back and focus on your jobs. I’ll be back soon.”

“If you’re-”

“Positive,” Miguel narrowed his eyes in a glare, “just let me do my work.”

“Okay…” Miles didn’t want to go, but Miguel already seemed annoyed and he wasn’t going to push the issue, “see you later.”

“Goodbye Miles,” he watched him pointedly until Miles left again. Once the boy was gone, he groaned loudly and smacked his head against the tree.

The worst part of all was that Miguel had now lost track of you. He huffed heavily…it looked like his personal espionage quest was finished for now.

Even if he never saw you again, at least he would always have this memory of you.

He just hoped that the you back in your world was willing to talk to him, despite how awful he had been.

─── ･｡ﾟ☆: *.☽ .* :☆ﾟ. ───

“What are you doing here?” your entire face fell as you looked at Miguel standing on your doorstep. You sighed heavily, and without waiting for an answer, started to close the door, but Miguel stopped you by lodging his foot in the door, “Miguel.”

“Don’t go,” he barked out, surprising both of you. His face warmed up as you opened and closed your mouth a few times. Your frown quickly returned and you crossed your arms over his chest, “I mean don’t…please don’t leave the team.”

“Give me one good reason,” you waited for an answer, but instead you were met with silence. You could tell that he was struggling with trying to say something but still you didn’t receive an answer. Scoffing, you tried to push him, “exactly. You don’t need me. Goodbye.”

“I don’t want you to go!” that caused you to stop in your tracks as your mouth dropped open. Miguel groaned, scrubbing a hand over his face at the sudden and seemingly unexpected confession. He waited for you to yell at him or something - anything. But instead you studied him intently.

“Say it again,” your voice was less confident than you’d intended. You cringed internally but the expression on Miguel’s face made you feel slightly less awkward, “please?”

“I don’t want you to go,” he repeated softly, a small little half smile pulling up the corners of his mouth, “I’m an idiot.”

“Yeah,” you agreed with a nervous laugh, “you are Miguel.”

“And I’m sorry,” you hadn’t been expecting his first confession, and you definitely hadn’t been expecting an apology. Maybe you’d fallen into the wrong universe without knowing it, “so…yeah.”

“Are you going to kiss me or…?” you knew there was still a lot to go over but right now you really wanted this. You’d both been dancing around this for far too long.

His hands found your face and he kissed you without hesitation. Apparently that was all he needed in order to finally make his move. It was almost embarrassing how often he thought about and wanted this. You hesitated for a moment before kissing him back and jumping into his arms, eager to have him all over you.

He kissed like he did everything else - with purpose and his whole heart in it. It didn’t even phase you that you were making out in the middle of the hallway of your apartment building. Neither of you pulled apart until you were desperate for a breath of air.

Miguel set you back down and the two of you exchanged shy, but happy smiles. He rubbed the back of his neck awkwardly, unsure of what exactly to say. He hadn’t thought this far - he definitely hadn’t thought he’d get to this point.

“What changed your mind?” you asked quietly and his eyes widened in surprise at your question. Not that it was a weird question.

“I’m not sure you’d believe it,” you couldn’t help but laugh at that before gesturing around and between yourselves.

“Miguel,” you dropped your voice so only the two of you could hear, “we have spider abilities and can travel between different universes. What could possibly that’s so crazy and I wouldn’t believe it?”

“You sure you want to hear it?”

“Duh.”

“That job I went on,” you huffed slightly because it was that very job that he’d forbidden you from going on, “I saw something.”

“Let me guess,” you had to hold back your giggles as you figured out exactly where this was going, “you found us and we happened to be married. Maybe with a kid?”

“H-how did you know?!”

“Because,” you opened the door and gestured for him to follow you inside, “in almost every universe I’ve gone to where we’re there we’ve been…together.”

“Oh,” his cheeks turned red as closed the door and leaned against it, “oh.”

“Oh,” you teased in return, “I wondered if you’d ever notice. You know what that means, right?”

“What does it mean?”

“I think it means you should kiss me,” there was a coquettish look on your face as he swallowed thickly, “unless you don’t want to?”

“I want to,” he stepped closer to you as you smiled up at him, “I really want to.”

“So do it.”

#miguel o'hara #miguel o'hara x reader #miguel o'hara x you #miguel o'hara x fem!reader #miguel o'hara one shot #miguel o'hara imagine #spiderman 2099 #oscar isaac

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punching-pentagrams · 2 months

Text

Love in a Hopeless Place

Chapter 9

I'm sorry for being so evil... Just kidding, here is a little more pain before it gets better 😘

Lucifer x prostitute fem!reader Word Count: 3.9k CW: Slowburn, Angst, Prostitution, Hurt/comfort, trauma, fluff, depression, anxiety, insecurity, alcohol/intoxication, fuckboi flirting

You get to the hotel and check in, it wasn't crazy fancy or anything, but it was nice, quieter, didn't reek of sex and drugs. You got up to the hotel room and, maybe because you were somewhere that didn't remind you of all of the pain from the night before, you were able to flop on the bed and fall asleep. You slept without any dreams, not a healing sleep per-se, but you had caught up on the sleep you had lost from the night before.

You look at your phone, damn, you basically slept your first day of vacation away. Oh well, vacations don't need to be productive. You stare up and the ceiling, your mind wandering from what you should do, back to Lucifer. You wonder how his day was, he probably knew his next few appointments were canceled at this point, would he be mad or disappointed? Would he remember what happened last night?

You shake your head and growl at yourself, tugging at your own hair in frustration, 'Why do I fucking care so much?!' You got up and paced the room. You ran your hands up your face and through your hair as you walked over to the window, and pressed your forehead to the glass looking out at your view for the next few days. You saw a few restaurants, bars, and stores that littered the main drag, until the name of one grabbed your attention, and made you chuckle.

"Rock Bottom, huh? Feels appropriate for tonight," you say out loud to yourself as you change into more appropriate "out in public" clothes. You were feeling like a loser, but at least you didn't want to look like one. You grabbed your purse, strapped on some heels, and hopped across the street to the bar that felt it aligned with how you felt about life at the moment.

The bar was a dive, but it was not bad. There was a chill downstairs and a spiral staircase off to one side that twisted up to another floor with some flashing colored lights and some guys singing some sad and off-pitch karaoke. Yup, this was the vibe for the night. Luckily, this bar did not seem super crowded and you were able to find a seat with ample space over near the side of the bar to set yourself at.

The bartender saw you and nodded in your direction while they were finishing a couple of drinks. "Be right with you in just a moment, sweetheart," the woman said while juggling her bottles and shakers.

"No problem," you said with a tired smile. You watched the woman flip and spin the bottles as the customers in front of her watched with excitement. You loved watching bartenders who could do cool tricks, it was not a requirement for their job of course, but you were sure it got them more tips and it always made you hope that they enjoyed what they did. Or maybe they were just trying to give themself some amount of joy in their hellhole of a job working with drunk people and their bullshit.

Eventually she passed off the drinks to the customers, tossed her towel over her shoulder, and headed over to you.

"Thanks for waiting, welcome to Rock Bottom, what can I get ya?" the woman asked you. She gave off a "cool biker mom" kinda vibe, lots of tattoos and piercings all over her, a biker looking vest and short cropped slicked back black hair with one big pink streak jutting back from her right temple, all being held back by a red bandana.

"Just a long island iced tea, please," you said softly.

"Ah, one of those nights huh?" She said cocking an eyebrow, "No problem, coming right up."

You lean more on the bar, "What do you mean by that?" you say with a sly smile and a squint.

The bartender waved her hand, "I'm sorry, you're not one of my regulars, I shouldn't joke so bluntly right off the bat. Normally, the heavier the starting drink, the more sorrow the customer is trying to drown out."

"Hmm. Well, you're observations are quiet astute, as that is exactly why I ordered it," you say with a cocky smile.

"Well, the down on their luck do happen to be our target audience," the woman says flipping her shaker and bottles again, "May I ask what we are drowning today?"

You make a raspberry sound and then rub your face.

"You don't have to tell me if you don't want to," the woman said to you.

You laugh, "No it's fine, just hard to sum up in a quick statement. Just... work bullshit and... I don't know... utter fucking confusion of my life and what to do."

The woman nods sympathetically, "Sounds like hell." She looks at you, you both crack a smile and laugh. She hands you your drink.

"Sure is Hell... Just... almost felt like I had escaped it for a little... But anyways... I won't bother you more with my bullshit," you say looking down at your drink and taking it in your hands.

The woman shrugged, "Hell doesn't got therapists, bartenders are as close as they come. Name's Brooklyn if you need anything else, sweetheart." Brooklyn said, flipping the towel over her shoulder again as she went to greet another new guest who had settled on the other side of the bar. By the way Brooklyn greeted them, they looked like a regular.

You sipped on your drink and people watched for a while. As the night went on, you ordered some food and a few more drinks, watching people some and go. The room started to fill up with more patrons.

At one point, you saw a young Imp couple come in and snuggle into a booth together, kissing and snuggling, happily tipsy and enjoying each other's company. You sighed, you missed Lucifer and the way he would hold you. You wished it was real, you wished you could figure out if anything about your relationship with him was real. It also still drove you crazy trying to figure out why you would want it to be real. It was just a job... right?

Eventually, some drunk guy sauntered up to you. 'Oh boy, here we go.'

"Hey hot stuff, what are you doing moping over here by yourself, you're to sexy to be sad," he slurred at you, leaning on the bar.

You sighed, turned on your barstool and kicked one leg over the other, "Actually, I'm just sexy enough to be sad, thank you very much. Also... just out of curiosity, does this tactic ever work for you? The whole drunken loser with a backhanded compliment shtick?" You cock and eyebrow and smile.

"Wha- pffttt. Wow, why you gotta be such a bitch? I was just wanting to show you a fun time," he said leaning more into your face.

"Oh ya? And what would that look like? A minute of disappointing fingering and unimaginative attempts at dirty talk followed by five minutes of lack-luster penetration, doggy style with my unstimulated, unenthused, bone dry cooch while you scream "You like that you dirty little slut? You like how daddy fucks your tight little pussy, babygirl?" before you combust and roll over saying you are too tired to even attempt to make me feel any amount of pleasure, let alone getting me off? That kind of fun time?" you say giving him a smug smile.

The man in front of you just stares at you slack-jawed, so mad and confused he did not know what to say. You smirk, kick one of your heels up onto the middle of his chest, "That little bit of fun public degradation is the most fun we will be having tonight. Now get out of my face." You say as you push your foot against his chest, sending the man toppling backwards into a few onlookers that parted to let him drop to the floor and flail. You get a couple of whistles, claps, and hollers as you turn back to your drink.

Brooklyn stood at your end of the bar with a big smile on her face, "Well then! I was about to get ready to tell him to piss off, but you seem to have already handled it."

You shrug, "Men like him know they have no chance with shit like lines like that. They know they are going to get shut down and honestly, they love being put in their place. It's a kink for them, even if they would never want to admit it outright. I did him a favor really. If he is able to remember any of that interaction tomorrow, he'll have jerk off material for weeks." You say looking at him still splayed out on the floor.

Brooklyn howled with laughter, "Wow! That's incredible! Hey, do you mind if I ask you a question?"

"No, I won't do you next," you say, you and Brooklyn erupt into more laugher. "Sorry, yes, ask away."

"Are you a sex worker?" Brooklyn asked. You nod. "Nice! My ex-girlfriend used to be a sex worker and she used to be able to mentally bulldoze men like that, so I was just curious. It's always so fun to watch."

"Guilty as charged, but I'm off the clock for a few days," you say.

"Ah, very good. Doing anything fun?" Brooklyn asked.

You picked up your cup and shook it.

"Just drink away your sorrows? Sounds like a bummer of a vacation," she says wiping down the counter.

You shrugged and sighed, "I just... have some things I need to figure out. Just needed some space for a few days."

She leaned on the bar, "Space from what, if I may be so bold?"

You nod, "Ehhh, it's... not something I can talk about with others."

She shrugged, "Fair enough. I'm here every day if you change your mind."

"Thanks." You finish up a couple more drinks, happily drunk and numb, thanked Brooklyn and paid for your evening, and waddled your way back to the hotel before passing out for the night.

______________________________________________________________

The next morning you wake up with a hangover, which you expected, but it was worth it. You scroll through your phone for a while, but eventually you realize that you aren't actually looking at anything , just scrolling just to scroll. You sigh and stare at the ceiling of the hotel room, the thoughts of your issue with Lucifer drifting back.

You eventually feel the thoughts start to frustrate you and you start to cry. Why was this so hard?! The thoughts did not seem to want to organize themself into anything helpful, just stagnated in place in your mind, floating around like milk soaked Cheerios. Hells, you wish you could talk to someone, literally anyone about your issues, but you couldn't. You ended up getting up and pacing again until you ended up pressing your forehead against the cold window again. You looked out at all of the stores and people walking around, until your eyes landed on the Rock Bottom. You smiled, thinking about Brooklyn and the drunk guy from the night before.

Suddenly, a lightbulb went off in your head. Brooklyn, you COULD talk to Brooklyn! You just could not give her exact details like Lucifer, Charlie, the hotel, but you could talk to her about it in more general terms. Yes! This was the answer! Well... if Brooklyn was serious about being someone that you could talk to. It... wouldn't hurt to at least ask, right?

You quickly got dressed and popped back across the street to the Rock Bottom. You walked inside the bar, it was a lot more slow during the day, but there were still a few customers scattered around the downstairs area. You saw a young man at the bar, but no Brooklyn. You were disappointed not to see her.

"Hey there!" the young man called out to you, "Welcome in, how can I help you?"

"Hey... sorry, umm... I was kinda looking to see if Brooklyn was here. I can come back later," you start to turn to leave.

"Oh! No she is here, she's just in the back. I'll go get her for you!" the young man said before disappearing into the back. A few minutes later, Brooklyn emerged from the back storage room, and smiled when she saw you.

"Ah! Afternoon, sweetheart. How are you doing today?" Brooklyn smiled.

"Hey! I'm doing... alright... Hope I'm not interrupting anything," you say rubbing your arm.

Brooklyn waved a hand, "Don't worry about it, just doing inventory, earlier to do during the day when it's slower. What can I do for you?"

"Well..." you start, looking at the floor, then balled your hands into fits to get yourself to ask, "Did you mean what you said about being here... if I needed to talk?"

Brooklyn smiled, and looked at her watch, "I'm sure I can squeeze you in for an appointment, you good waiting for my lunchbreak?"

You waved you hands, "Oh! I don't want to take away from your lunch break! Plus, I don't want you to get in trouble or anything with your boss."

Brooklyn laughed, you looked at her confused, "Sweetheart, I am the boss, I can do what I want, and right now, I want to hear about what's got you sulking to my part of town and drowning your sorrows in my bar." You smiled and nodded, you don't know what it was about her, but you trusted her. She kinda reminded you of your grandmother, in the cool spunky kinda way, also maybe a little bit of how you used to be with your siblings. You waited about an hour and a half at the bar to finish up her inventory, and then you and her went up to a little balcony on the second level of the bar.

"Welcome to my office, now tell me miss... oh fuck... I just realized I've never asked your name," Brooklyn said embarrassed.

You laughed, "It's ok, it's (y/n)."

"Well alright, miss (y/n). What's going on?"

You start, without giving away exact details, tell Brooklyn the tale of the last several months, getting hired by a powerful person to secretly be their prostitute, the sex turning into nights of supports on both sides, helping them reconnect with their child and helping them achieve their goals, how they defended you against an abusive client, you left out the extermination fight but did mention that they were wanting to keep you safe during that event, and finally the night that brought you here. The whole time, Brooklyn listened intently, nodding and sometimes asking a clarifying question or two.

At the end of that all, Brooklyn sighed. "I can see why you'd be feeling overwhelmed right now. It would be confusing to love someone and got some drunk inducted, confusing confirmation of returned feeling while in a weird role/power dynamic with them."

You nodded, "Ya..." you blinked as you processed what she had said, "Wait... what?"

She looked at you and raised an eyebrow, "What?"

You stared at her, "I... I never said I loved him."

She nodded, "Yes you did."

You stared at her, "When???"

She smiled, "With every word you said about this person, how you treated them, how you felt about how they treated you... You do love them, right?"

You thought through everything, every look, every touch, every nickname, every night in his arms, every time he showed up in your room, the way he protected you, the way you thought of him when we were alone or with other clients, the way you felt being with him and Charlie at the hotel, the unbridled fear you felt at him telling him telling you he loved you. Why you cared if you lost him. It was all because you were afraid of losing the love you felt from him. The love you felt for him.

You loved him, you loved Lucifer.

Tears poured from your eyes as the realization sunk into you. You turned to look at Brooklyn, "Oh my god... I love him."

Brooklyn laughed, "Did you not realize until just now?"

You shook your head, the tears getting heavier, "No!" you choked out, your breath heaving, "I've never knew love could feel like this. I've never felt this before!" You start to crumple inward as the tears overtake you.

Brooklyn's smile faded, "Oh sweetheart," she pulled you into a hug as you sobbed. You tried to apologize and she just shushed you.

After you calmed down, you sigh, "Ok but... how do I know if he actually loves me?"

"He does," Brooklyn said.

"How do you know?" you sniffle.

She gives you a look, "Girl, how many guys that hire hookers introduce them to their daughters and then keep bringing them around their daughter and her friends?"

You blinked.

"And if that isn't enough, he beat up another client that hurt you. He doesn't just love you. He is down bad for you," Brooklyn smiled.

"And you're sure?" you ask.

Brooklyn nodded, "100%, on my afterlife, or may Satan take my bar."

You sniffled again and laughed, "Well, I wouldn't want Satan to take over your bar... I don't know him, but I get the feeling he wouldn't be as good of a bartender as you." You and Brooklyn laugh.

You look out from the balcony, thinking about how somewhere far away, on the other side of the circle, Lucifer, the King of Hell, was in love with you. Maybe thinking about you. Missing you. It made your heart ache, thinking of how you had run away from him, when you now realize he was probably just too scared to tell you how he felt.

"Do you think he'll be mad at me for running away from him?" you ask Brooklyn.

She shook her head, "If he is any man worth keeping, and if there really is that much of a power dynamic difference, he'll understand why you did what you did."

You nod. At this point, Brooklyn had to go back to work. You hung out at the bar the rest of the night, not getting nearly as drunk this time.

The next two days, you would go back to the bar during Brooklyn's breaks to talk through new thoughts and insecurities, and Brooklyn would softly but firmly refute each one. Damn, is this what therapy was like in the living world? Life would have turned out different maybe if this was something you had back then. Oh well, it's too late now.

On your last day, you packed up your room and went to say goodbye to Brooklyn, she gave you a hug and wished you goodbye. Telling you that you were always welcome to come back and talk, and that she expected an invite to the wedding if it worked out. You both laughed.

Soon, it was time to get int the car and head back home, back to the Lounge, back to Lucifer.

_____________________________________________________________

A little bit later, you arrived back at the Lounge. You got out of the car, headed up to your room to drop off your bag, then headed downstairs to see Larry and tell him you were back.

You found Larry and he smiled to see you, "Babydoll! I'm so glad you're back. How're ya feeling?"

You smiled, "Much better, thank you for being patient with me."

"Of course! Now, here is your rescheduled appointments for tomorrow," he said handing you a list. You looked through, and were disappointed to not see "Lance" in his usual time. You looked up at Larry.

"No Lance?"

Larry shook his head, "We called him and let him know you were going on vacation, and he said he would call back when he wanted to reschedule." Ok, no problem. You could get that, maybe he just didn't want to jump on when you were going to be getting home from your break. Ya, that sounds like something he would do. He loved you, right? You could be patient.

You were patient... as days turned to weeks, and Lucifer did not call to schedule with you. Every day you lost more hope, life slipped back into the way it was before you had ever known him. Cynthhhhia watched you from the shadows of the brothel, pleased to see your decent into misery as she started to get more well paying client's again. Sure, playing nice with the customers did pay off, but so did knocking Larry's favorite girl off of her groove. And the best part? No, one would ever know.

One day you looked out the window of your apartment and sighed, "Guess you were wrong after all, Brooklyn. Looks like Satan will be coming for the bar after all."

You wanted to laugh at the idea of Satan trying to run a bar, but all you could do was cry as your newly discovered heart was now broken.

Serves you right for thinking that love was actually possible in such a hopeless place.

______________________________________________________________

Charlie's phone rang, she looked over to see her dad's ID pop up on her phone. She scrambled to pick it up, she had called him several times over the last couple of week and he had not been answered. It had her worried, he had not done this since before his visit to the hotel that brought them back together.

"Dad! Hi! It's so good to see you call. Are you ok?" Charlie asked.

Lucifer cleared his throat on the other end of the phone, "O-Oh course! Why, why would anything be the matter?"

"Uhh... because you haven't answered any of my calls in weeks? Also you and (y/n) were basically here every day and now I haven't seen either of you..." Charlie waited for a moment, Lucifer struggled to figure out what to say. Hearing your name made his heart sear with pain.

"Oh uh... we've uh... it's just been busy." Lucifer said.

"Dad, did something happened?" Charlie pleaded.

"I... I'm sorry sweetie, I can't talk about this right now. I was just calling to see if you could go to a meeting for me? Please?" Lucifer pouted. That was not a good sign. Something must have happened, but now did not seem like a good time to press, not over the phone anyway.

Charlie sighed, "Ok Dad, on one condition."

Lucifer paused, "That condition being???"

"Just... just come visit sometime this week, come have dinner with me? Please?" Charlie pleaded again.

Lucifer sighed, he may not have you, but he did still have his daughter, he couldn't lose that again, "Ok, I will."

"Great! I'll see you later! Text me the details of the meeting. I love you, Dad."

Lucifer told Charlie he loved her too, then Charlie hung up, and turned to see Vaggie, Angel, Husk, Alastor, and Niffty all looking at her in anticipation.

"What kin'a scheme you cookin' up now, Princess?" Angel asked.

"Well, would anyone up for a little, community "Emotional Intervention" bonding?" Charlie was met with a room full of mischievous, sharp, approving smiles.

______________________________________________________________

You guys, the Cynthhhhia hate is giving me LIFE, I'm so happy how much y'all hate her. Keep up with the ideas, how should she be brought to justice? 😈 As usual, leave a comment if you want added to the taglist so that you can get notifications when future chapters drop! xoxo, dany (OMG there are so many of you!😍 Please let me know if the tag isn't working for you) Taglist :(red names are not tagging for some reason 😢)@froggybich @wonderlandangelsposts @glowinthedarkbones1150 @marydragneell @crescent-z @superdinosaurnacho @jam0001 @kyo-kyo1 @so-get-this-sammy @lilzebeth @kelppsstuff @loquacious-libra @pinkhoneydrop @luleck @writer-girl99 @lavenz @stormz369 @littleladydemon @soujiswife @melday0105 @luluxx118 @sseleniaa @futureittomainn @cktkat @zaneyyyy @uravitsy @liecoris @starlitvenus @hannahrose130 @elleofdragons @butch-medusae @concentratedconcrete @erosamasan @stranger-chan @aquaamethyst96 @lxkeee @holyspacething @hulyenl @leximus98 @lu-ferri12 @mixplara @katnisspeetaprim @rebecca-hvnstn @roboticsuccubus83 @nekemewlita @femboyfatalle @thelethex @cryptidghostgirl @snowlotr @bangchansdirty-slut @glowymxxn @mcueveryday @hotvillianapologist @oneiric-rotaerc

#hazbin hotel #hazbin hotel lucifer #lucifer hazbin hotel #lucifer morningstar #lucifer x reader #fanfic #fanfic writing #lucifer x y/n #lucifer fanfiction #hazbin lucifer #lucifer #lucifer magne #lucifer hazbin #fanfiction #hazbin hotel fanfiction #slow burn #angst #it will get better

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jinnie-ret · 6 months

Note

9th member! Liking changbin and constantly complimenting him/his rapping and his muscles but he doesn't realise it untill the guys point it out?

macho man

changbin x ninth member!reader

genre: fluff

content warnings: none

word count: 1.4k

summary: the other members help you in your quest to showing changbin your true feelings

Thank you so much for your request! I hope you enjoyed it!

CHANGBIN'S MASTERLIST

MAIN MASTERLIST

•••••••••••••••••••••••••••••••••••••••••••••••

"Felixxxx, I don't get why he doesn't see it," you groaned, hands over your face as you flopped down on the sofa next to him in the practice room. Your music was blasting from the speakers so you weren't worried about the sole occupier of your thoughts hearing your stresses.

"Y/Nnie, you just need to tell him," Felix patted your head sympathetically.

"It's not that easy! How do I know if he likes me back?" your voice was muffled by the leather of the sofa, yet he still heard you.

"I think you need some wingmen to help you, my dear Y/Nnie," Felix proposed his idea, and you could hear the smirk in his voice.

Phase 1: Compliments

"Woah Binnie, your arms are looking big these days," you commented as you laid down on the floor next to him in the room provided backstage at Music Bank.

"Ah, you think so?" Changbin smirked slightly as he flexed his arm, scrolling on his phone at the same time.

"Oh definitely," you said, feeling a bit disheartened that he didn't take the hint.

"What about my arms?" Han fake pouted, standing in front of the two of you.

"Yeah! Or mine?" Seungmin goofily posed too, tensing his arms, winking at you subtly.

"No, Changbin's the strongest for sure!" you brushed them off, which made him turn to you with a smile.

"I'm the strongest yeah? Let's have an arm wrestle, Y/Nnie," Changbin shoved your shoulder playfully, and out of the corner of your eye you saw Han and Seungmin nodding encouragingly.

"Fine, but I bet I'll win," you tease, thinking back on when Hyunjin said you should be playful in your flirting, hoping it would work, or at least rile him up.

"Sure, give it your best try," Changbin fake cooed at you, which you couldn't deny made you blush slightly, and your hands connected.

"Let me be the judge! I'll count you in, 3, 2, oh wait!" Felix sat down in front of you, "Changbin you need to move closer so it's fair."

You didn't know where that logic came from, and Changbin didn't seem to either, but you weren't complaining. At least you got to be closer to him before he slammed your hand down against the floor, cheering victoriously.

"I'm not shocked you won," you pout at the smug man in front of you.

"Neither am I," he shrugged, before returning to browsing tiktok on his phone.

Dammit. It didn't completely work, but you felt closer to him with your intentional flirting.

Phase 2: Physical Contact

"Two big Binnie arms wrapped around one Y/N works perfectly, the girl math is mathing," you nod excitedly at the idea from Minho that more physical contact would be a good idea.

"Right, ok, enough of that weird internet language, just listen to my advice, yeah?" Minho rolled his eyes at your hyper self who was sat across from him in the lounge.

"Plus, Changbin loves cuddles, I'm sure he'll say yes," Chan added, trying to make you feel more relaxed at the idea.

"Ok, ok, I can do this," you nodded to yourself and nearly facepalmed. Why were you getting so worked up about a cuddle? You've hugged him before, it wasn't unusual, but now you knew there was a different sentiment behind it. You noticed your feelings for Changbin for a while now, the way he always made you feel safe, made you laugh, knew how to comfort you when you was upset. He was just all round an amazing person. You loved the way that when he smirked only the right side of his mouth would rise. You loved the way he would clap his hands after giggling. You loved the way his voice would go deep and husky when he rapped.

"Y/Nnie?" Changbin waved a hand in front of your face.

"Huh? Yeah?" you jumped in your seat, looking up the hunky man who was snug in a grey hoodie. His fluffy black hair was covering his eyes slightly, round glasses perched on his nose.

"You good? I asked you a question but it's like you were in your own world?" he gently tilted your head up to face him.

"Oh, um, yeah, um," you malfunctioned, blinking in an empty way.

"Move up then haha," he nudges you and laughs as he plonks himself down next to you on the sofa, tugging a blanket over himself.

You shudder in nervousness, but it seems to play in your favour.

"Oh, you cold? Here have some blanket too," Changbin noticed your shivering body and tugged the blanket over you too, naturally shuffling closer to you, your legs touching.

"Cuddle?!" you suddenly blurt out loudly, immediately shrinking into yourself after.

"Haha," he laughed at you, "yEs?!" he said in the same tone, meeting your energy as he wrapped an arm around you and your head rested comfortably on his chest. It rose up and down gently, lulling you into a more comfortable and relaxed state as you watched a movie with him and the others. Jeongin smirked at you from across the room, chuckling lightly to himself.

The movie soon ended, and were snug in the arms of your crush. Oh, yes, the girl math certainly was mathing. The rest of the boys had dispersed to their rooms and you thought this was your moment.

"Hey, um, Changbin, I-"

"I'm sorry you can tell me in a second I just really need to pee right now," Changbin shuffles out from underneath you and rushes away to the bathroom and you sigh. Apparently this wasn't the moment.

Phase 3: Confess

"It's not going to work, the last time I tried he ran away," you sighed, laying in your bed next to Jeongin.

"Yeah, because if he didn't move when you told him you had a crush on him, he would have peed. On you. That would have been so traumatising, Y/Nnie," Jeongin laughs at you, making you see some sense.

"I knowww, but just... when will he realise? You and the boys have been dropping hints for ages and-"

"Hey, Y/N I was going to," Changbin knocked at your open door, but then stopped when he saw you laying down next to the maknae. "I was going to ask if you could help with something, but I can see you're busy," he frowns.

"No! Umm it's nothing, what's up, Binnie?" you sat up, observing his soured mood and downcast gaze.

"I was wondering if I could talk to you? Changbin asked, to which you and Jeongin nodded. "Privately."

Jeongin got the hint and left the room, patting his hyung on the shoulder as he left.

"Here, come sit," you nodded to next to you, and Changbin sat down.

"I have something to... ask you about," Changbin tentatively intertwined his pinkie with yours.

"Me too," you breathed out.

"You go first."

"No, you, you said first."

"But you seem nervous."

"Nervous? Me? Never... you go first Changbin," you convinced him, and he sighed, letting out a little laugh.

"Ok, fine. Ummm, do you, like, me?" Changbin turned to look at you, yet you couldn't make eye contact back with him.

"And what if I said yes? What would happen then?" you bit your lip nervously, pulling your hands closer to yourself, the little contact you had with each other breaking apart.

"Then I'd say... I was an idiot for not noticing the signs. And, and, I'd say that I like you too, I really do," Changbin rushed out, grasping both your hands this time, making the braver move.

"You do?" you look up into his eyes, your faces inching closer and closer.

"I do," he lips meet yours, the passion and love filling your senses as your lips mould together before you both pull back.

"Haha, wow," you giggle giddily to yourself.

"We just kissed, and now you're giggling?" Changbin pushes your shoulder playfully.

"Can't help it, I've had a crush on you for so long now," you mean against him, arms hugging his muscly arm.

"I wish I knew sooner, I wouldn't have kept you waiting for so long," Changbin delicately placed a kiss into your hair.

"It's ok, I don't mind, I'm quite happy as we are now," you smile fondly at him, and the two of you sat like that for a while, both content in knowing that your feelings were clear with each other.

tagged: @skz-streamer @kiraisastay @hannahhbahng @backintomykpopphaseagain @sakufilms @hanjiquokkaaa @arloo00 @dunno-wut-to-do @splat00z @cheesemonky

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catsharky · 2 months

Note

I am in awe of how consistently your draw characters faces?????? i struggle a lot with that, may i inquire if you have any tips to share on that front???

Sure! This took a little bit because I wanted to put some visuals together.

Unfortunately, as it always is with art, the main tip is just... practice. Not in the sense that you have to sit down and do drills, but in that the more times you draw a character, the more consistent they'll naturally start to look because you won't be figuring out how you want to draw them on the fly. Even I struggle to keep a character consistent when I first start drawing them, and it usually takes me a little bit to settle on how I want them to look. If you look back at my earlier Mass Effect comics, my Shepard looked quite a bit different then to how I draw her now. And I know it can be hard to get a sense of time from something like tumblr posts, but those changes happened across a span of six months. So be patient with yourself!

As for specifics though, I'd say the main thing that can help with consistency is to think of it less as one big whole and break it down into smaller pieces. What features need to be there for a character to read as that character? If you take something away, does it still look like them? How do their features differ from another character's?

For example, I compared Ember with my Shepard and tried to point out what goes through my mind and what I think about when I'm drawing them (besides obvious things like hairstyle/horns):

Additionally, reference!! Reference makes such a big difference. Any time I'm drawing a character, I'll pull up previous drawings I've done of them so I can check how I drew them before. I also have a small standing mirror that sits on my desk. If I'm not sure how something should look? I can just look at my own face to get an idea of what should be going on.

On top of all that (though this is something that won't apply to most original characters), because Ember is based on my in-game BG3 Tav I just have a big folder of screenshots that I've taken of her that I look at whenever I'm drawing her. I've never posted what she looks like in-game, but here she is:

(I love her so much)

I do something similar for most existing characters I draw. I have folders for each of them that are just a bunch of reference images of them at different angles, so I never have to wonder how something should look.

I hope this helps at least a little, and if anyone wants more specifics about anything, feel free to ask!

#anon ask #sharky speaks #process talk #sharky art

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bitchesuntitled · 15 days

Text

When It Rains

Pairing: Javier Peña x F!Reader

Warnings/Tags: 18+ MDNI, go on get! PWP, mostly porn but some plot, unprotected PIV(Don't do this IRL, be safe, make smart choices), kissing, fingering(f receiving), cream pie, flirting.

I'm trying to practice smut more, be kind. This is for @undercoverpena's April Showers prompt!

Thank you so much to @notjustjavierpena for helping me with the moodboard and the grammar stuff, @strang3lov3 for editing and leaving encouraging comments, and @beefrobeefcal for also betaing! Don't know what I would do without you lovely people! ❤️

@jay-zzle is my Spanish expert and dear friend who has helped me with a lot of my translations. Plus she's also one of the main reasons I'm trying to learn Spanish 🥰

divider by @saradika-graphics

Masterlist

You’ve been assigned the stakeout with Javier Peña at a nightclub, where it’s been rumored that some of Escobar’s sicarios frequent regularly. It’s not a problem per se, but it could just be a tad distracting considering the circumstances. No one, not even Murphy, has seemed to catch wind of what has been going on between the two of you; the late-night meet-ups, the storage closet, the file room, hell - there was even one time late at night in the office the three of you share. You’re professional though, work always comes before play. That’s been the rule since the beginning.

“Looks like it’s gonna rain,” Javi comments, pushing his head to the car’s window, and looking up, “We could definitely use it.”

You hum in agreement, watching the nightclub like a hawk. As you listen to the pulsing music radiating from the club, watching people file in and out of the building, none seem to be any of Escobar’s crew just yet. The night seems to be growing darker as the clouds glide across the sky, covering the bright moon's light. Soon enough, small drops of rain begin to fall, turning into fat drops within minutes, downpour to follow.

“Fuck,” you hiss, gripping the steering wheel and peering out the dash window, “Of course.”

“Nothing wrong with some rain,” Javi smirks, looking at you.

“Except for the fact we can’t see shit!”

“Maybe we could do something else with our time?” Javi suggests, laying his arm against the back of the bench seat and scooting his hips forward to get more comfortable. His hand creeps onto your shoulder, rubbing small circles against the bare skin there, skimming past the hem of your tank top.

“Javi,” you scold, shrugging your shoulders to get your point across, “No, we’re working.”

“Can’t see shit in this rain,” Javi grumbles, crossing his arms across his chest, “Least we could have some fun.”

“Maybe it’ll die down,” you suggest, looking at him. He matches your stare with those pleading eyes of his. Those dark eyes, the way they make you want to melt every single time they land on you.

It’s been 20 minutes and the downpour hasn’t relented. After seeing how you wouldn’t be doing something else with your time like he suggested, Javi’s beginning to become restless.

“When it rains it pours, hermosa,” Javi says, grinning at you. Your pulse jumps at that word. Hermosa. He knows exactly what he’s doing. That’s how it always starts.

“Javi,” you warn, reminding him again, “We are working. You know the rules, work then play.”

He moves closer to you, leaning over to whisper in your ear, “We’ve played at work before, cariño.” Goosebumps pebble across your skin. You hope he can’t see them with how dark it is. You crane your head away from him and grab the binoculars from the dash, choosing to ignore the burning desire between your thighs. You just need to focus on work. You feel Javi lean back in the seat, his eyes boring into the side of your head. You put the binoculars against your face, grunting in annoyance when you still can’t see anything.

“Bebé,” Javier says, grabbing the binoculars from your grip, “Let’s call it night, hmm?”

He throws them into the back seat with a smirk, leaning closer to you, grabbing the back of your neck, and gently urging you toward him. His index finger sweeps against your cheek, brushing a stray hair behind your ear. He smiles warmly at you before dipping his head to meet your lips. Your hands rest against his chest, fingers fiddling with the open V of his button-up.

You moan against his mouth when he licks your bottom lip, allowing him access to slip his tongue inside. Your tongues caressing each other, your hands move to the nape of his neck. Your lips make their way to his jaw and down his neck, your teeth lightly scrape his pulse point.

“Mira que duro me pones(look how hard you make me),” Javi says, pulling you onto his lap, grinding against your center to let you feel his growing bulge. “Te deseo(want you),” he growls.

You let out a faint gasp. Javi has a firm grip on your thighs to keep you against him, one hand finding its way to your center, palm pressing firmly against your clit through the denim of your jeans. You moan against his throat at the sensation.

“Javi,” you whimper as he flicks the button of your jeans open and begins to tug on them impatiently. “Fuck, Javi. I gotta get my damn shoes off first.”

He grabs your jeans, helping you out of them after knocking your shoes off. Javi brings his hand back to your center, rubbing precise circles against your clothed clit, moving down to pull your panties aside. Javi hums, capturing your lips again, tongue tangling with yours, enjoying feeling the slick against your slit.

“So wet,” he says, teasing two thick digits against your entrance. You hum with a nod of your head, crying out when he pushes them into your wet heat.

“Javi,” you moan, putting your head into the crook of his neck, rolling your hips in time with his fingers. “Fuck.” Beginning to feel the coil in your belly tightening.

“¿Así, bebé?(just like that, baby?)” He asks, moving his thumb to massage small quick circles on your clit. You whimper his name when he curves his fingers just right, hitting that spot he knows you love. His mouth leaving open mouth kisses along your neck, reaching your pulse point he begins to suck lightly. You can feel the coil in your belly tightening more, your walls beginning to flutter against his fingers every time he hits that spot with the pads of his fingers.

“Eres mía(you’re mine),” Javi whispers against your neck.

“So close,” You whine, moving your hips faster, his fingers sinking in deeper with each roll of your hips. He moves his head from your neck to look at you, gripping the back of his neck, crashing your mouth into his. Javi moans, beginning to feel your walls clamp around his fingers. The coil in your belly snaps, shooting white-hot lightning through your entire body. Your hand pulls onto the hair at the nape of his neck, causing Javi to let out a guttural groan, pulling you back down from your high.

“Fuck me,” you sigh against his lips.

“That’s the plan, cariño(honey),” Javi smirks, kissing you again, scooting to lay his back against the seat.

Your hands slide down his chest, popping open the buttons of his shirt. You smirk, leaning into his collarbone and placing soft kisses before biting down gently.

“Fuck, bebé(baby),” Javi says sucking in a breath, moving his hands between your bodies to fumble with his belt, “Te necesito(need you)”

You lift up, swatting his hand away to work his belt and jeans open. He lifts his hips and helps you lower his jeans, his stiff member slapping against his stomach.

“Javier Peña,” you tsk, shaking your head at him, “Commando? Did you miss laundry day?”

“Knew about this assignment for weeks now. Asked to be paired up with you,” Javi smiles, wiggling his eyebrows. “Figured this would happen.”

“Oh, fuck off!” You laugh, playfully smacking his chest.

“Awe, come on now, chica sucía(dirty girl)” Javi says, placing your hands on his chest, “You know it’s—“

You grind against his cock, hands pressing firmly against his chest and he lets out a groan.

“That’s one way to get you to shut up,” you grin, slowly grinding your wetness along his shaft, the tip catching your bundle of nerves with every roll of your hips. Javi shifts up grabbing the back of your neck and pulling you to his lips in a hungry kiss. He moves his hand down to line his cock up to your entrance and you slowly sink down on it, taking it inch by inch. You're no stranger to Javi’s cock but each time feels like the first with how thick he is.

“Estás tan apretada, mi amor(you’re so tight, my love)” Javi growls, against your throat, “No pares(don’t stop)” holding onto your hips as you sink further down on him, ass cheeks finally resting on his thighs. You kiss him, both of you taking a minute to savor the feel of one another, Javi gently rubbing his fingers up and down your spine with one hand while the other holds your cheek.

“You’re so beautiful,” Javi murmurs, caressing his nose against your cheek before capturing your lips again, moaning into the kiss as you tentatively roll your hips. His hand settles on your lower back, letting you take control at a slow tempo, letting you enjoy the way his cock massages your inner walls. You moan feeling your nipples beginning to harden between your layers and his chest.

“Javi!” You gasp when he snaps his hips holding onto your lower back firmly.

“Need to see you,” Javi huffs, moving his hand from your face to your shoulder and pushing you to sit up, breath hitching as you swallow more of his length into your core. He rids you of your tank top and pushes the cups of your bra down. You begin to lightly bounce on his cock, moaning at the feel of his hands on you, fingers from one hand beginning to pinch your left nipple while his other hand slides down your ribs, gripping your waist. “Eres mía(you’re mine),” he growls. You can feel your climax nearing, your thighs beginning to shake, feeling the heat running through your body as you bounce.

“Want to take you out,” Javi grunts, your walls begin to tighten at his words, “Make sure that ev-fuck-everyone knows you’re my girl,” he rambles, gripping your waist tighter, snapping his hips into you. “Eres mía(you’re mine).”

“Javi,” you cry out, wanting all of those things and more, your walls fluttering around his shaft, “Fuck, Javi- yes, yes, yes, yes!” Your walls clamp down on him, milking his cock while your vision blurs.

“Fuck,” Javi whines, hips stuttering, emptying himself inside you. He sits up, wrapping his arms around your back to pull you closer to him. Your arms wrapped around his neck, kissing him softly, leaning your forehead against his, trying to catch your breath. Javi looks into your eyes and grins as his softening cock slips out of you.

“I’m serious, corazón,” Javi says, “Want it all.”

“Me too,” You nod, a grin stretching from ear to ear on your face.

“Peña?” You hear the radio chirp against the dash, Murphy beginning to call for you as well. “Anyone there?”

You giggle as Javi leans over, keeping a grip on you in his lap to reach the receiver. “Peña here.”

“The hell are you guys?” Murphy asks, “It’s been raining like cats and dogs for a fuckin’ hour, and no word from either of you!”

“Heading back now,” you say, shaking your head and laughing.

#UndercoverAprilShowersChallenge #pedro pascal characters #javier peña fanfiction #javier peña x reader #javier peña narcos #javier pena smut #javier peña x you

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thetriumphantpanda · 8 months

Text

i'll be needing stitches | din djarin

Summary | The Mandalorian has never had someone else tend to his wounds.

Pairing | Din Djarin x F!Reader

Word Count | 2.1k

Warnings | Future chapters will include smut, but this one involves mentions of injuries, a dead bounty, explicit descriptions of an untrained professional stitching someone up, blood, some explicit thoughts and some yearning.

Authors Note | My favourite tin can man is back and ready for business. I am having such a wonderful time imagining all the things Din has never experienced before and the idea that he has only ever been the one to patch himself up was more than I could cope with. As always, comments, reblogs and freaking out in my ask box are all welcome and if you enjoyed this, please consider supporting me with a donation to my Ko-Fi.

I no longer use taglists - please follow @thetriumpantpandanotifs and turn on notifications to know when I upload fics.

Series Masterlist | Main Masterlist | Ko-Fi

He’d been gone a few days. That was nothing new. Off hunting his next bounty, leaving you in charge of child. You didn’t mind it, once you’d gotten used to the fact that you couldn’t really reason with him, and that you’d be tired from constantly keeping an eye on him, he was actually pretty decent company.

You’re fussing with him, trying to get him to go down for some rest when the Crest doors open and there’s the sound of a body hitting the floor. That’s nothing out of the ordinary, so you don’t rush to see what’s happening. What is out of the ordinary is the sound of metal crashing to the floor right after it.

You whip around, looking at the scene before you. There’s a dead bounty on the ground, being kept company by Mando, who is crumpled on the floor in his armour, a pool of blood seeping out from underneath his left leg as he struggles to push himself up.

“Bloody hell,” you exclaim, immediately dropping all worry of the child to drop to your knees next to him, “What the hell happened?!”

He doesn’t respond, just grips at the injured leg, trying to get the bleeding to subside. His trousers are torn and there’s a nasty gash to the skin of his thigh that is about to cause a whole world of problems if you can’t fix it.

With your hand on his shoulder, placed there to let him know you’re near, you whip your head around trying to remember where he keeps the healing equipment. He’s needed it before, but only for minor injuries, and has never needed your help before, but with the way the blood is spreading across the floor, he’s going to need you now.

He feebly lifts a hand, pointing in the direction of his bunk, “Left it…. There.” He struggles to spit out.

“Okay, I’ll fetch it,” your voice is laced with panic, like if you leave him now, he’s going to pass out, or worse, “You’ve gotta promise me you’ll stay with me, okay?” There’s no response, “Mando? You hear me? No sleeping!”

He mumbles something unintelligible under his helmet but at least he’s talking. You let your hand drop, guiding him down to lie on the floor whilst you rush to his bunk, pulling at the haphazard sheets until the first aid box appears at the foot of the bed. You’re back on your knees next to him in no time, and he’s still moving about and groaning as you put your hand on his thigh to get a better look at his wound.

Your fingers tear at the edges of the material, wanting to allow him to keep his modesty but see the extent of the damage. The gash is angry, blood seeping from it with red edges. You tip the top of the box open and root through it. There’s a single bottle of bacta spray, which you pull out, give a little shake and go to take the top off, when his wide palm circles around your wrist to stop you.

“No.”

You let a frustrated growl leave your throat, “Then what, Mando?!” You exclaim, “You’re bleeding out, what am I meant to do?!”

“The thread,” He chokes out, “Just stitch it up.”

You look him straight in the visor, hoping your disapproving look is landing through his beskar. You are not a nurse, if you try and stitch him up you’re only going to make it worse.

“I’m going to make it worse like that,” You insist, “I’ve never stitched anything in my life.”

“Y-yes you have,” he squeezes your wrist, to reassure you, “Y-your tunic.”

“Mando, this is your fucking leg we’re talking about, not my clothes, it’s completely different.”

He pulls on your arm now, dragging your attention to him, craning his helmet as much as he can to look at you, “Do not waste that spray.” He demands, and even when he’s bleeding out on the floor, he commands you, knows that no matter what, he calls the shots - he lets your arm go, pushing you away gently but towards his leg.

You could argue with him that saving him from certain death is not wasting it, but the longer you bicker, the less time you have, so with shaking hands, you put the bacta spray back, and instead find the needle and surgical thread. With shaking hands, you do your best to thread the needle and tie it off at one end, before your hands are grasping at his thigh.

“This is going to suck,” You mutter, because it is, it would suck at the hands of a trained professional, so it’s definitely going to suck at the hands of someone who could barely sew their own clothes together, “I’m sorry.”

You don’t give him enough time to respond, or yourself much time to consider what you’re actually doing, you just push the needle through the skin closest to you and over to the other side, trying not to look up or focus too hard on the sounds he’s making as you drag the needle back and forward through his skin, watching as the skin closes together the further along the wound you pull. Your hands are shaking, and you’re holding your breath, but you don’t seem to be making it worse, which is something you’ll take.

You’re trying your best to concentrate on making the line of stitches as neat and tidy as you can, but all you can really focus on are the sounds that are coming from underneath that helmet of his. Low groans and grunts of pain as you work the needle through his skin, groans and grunts that you can’t help thinking about in another context, like if you weren’t currently trying to stitch him up and instead he had you pinned down and was- okay, no absolutely not.

You shake your head, trying to rid yourself of the now incredibly distracting train of thought. Sure, there have been moments when you’d thought about it, though about what kind of lover he would be, mainly only out of curiosity than your own desires. But ever since he took that damn helmet off in the rain and touched your face, you can’t help but wonder what kind of lover he’d be for you.

Whilst he’s led there on the floor, all his trust put in you to patch him up and make him better, make sure he lives, and all you can is wonder what those sounds would be like for you. What the press of his thighs would do to your own when he put himself between your body, or what this specific thigh, gripped in your hand, clenched as you push the needle through once more, would feel like between your legs. Would he guide you through it, with those big hands on your hips, or would he lean back and let you take what you needed? Would he snake that hand down the front of your trousers and help you along, or would he let you do it all yourself?

He’s agitated, and understandably so, it’s been a slow patch up, with you making sure that the scar your sutures will leave is as neat as it possibly can be. As you bend your head to look closely as you tie another knot in the end of the stitches, you realise he will have this for the rest of his life. A permanent mark on his skin, made by someone else sure, but patched up by you. The Mandalorian will always have this reminder of you etched into his skin, even if, for some reason, you cease to exist in his life. It’s primal, the way is makes you feel, that one day, if you’re gone, he’ll have to explain your existence to someone when they ask how he got that scar. You will forever be a piece of him.

He’s gone suspiciously quiet, the pain you were causing him by driving a needle through his damn skin has made way to a dull throb. You reach into the first aid box, pulling out some gauze and tissue. You use the tissue and what little disinfectant there is to clean the sutures and the blood from his skin, before haphazardly taping the gauze over it to try and keep it clean and free from infection.

He pushes himself up on his elbows once you’re done, watching as you clean away your mess. He wants to reach out to you, he wants to touch you, to anchor himself to you and never let go, to thank you, but instead he simply tries to push himself up whilst trying to keep the stitches you just put in him intact. He lets out a pained groan, you whip your head around.

“Maker, help me,” You grumble, dropping the things you were attempting to clean up to rush back to his side, “I just sewed you up and you’re trying to move on your own?” You’re trying to speak in a tone that is authoritative but it doesn’t seem to come out that way, “Can’t you just sit still for a minute?”

“Need to get us out of here,” He mumbles, taking hold of your hand that you’ve offered him, using your body to steady himself as he pulls himself up off the floor, “I’m sorry.”

“For what?” You ask, letting him lean on you slightly for support as he hobbled toward the ladder to the cockpit, despite him weighing considerably more than you.

He doesn’t actually respond to your question, once he’s at the cockpit ladder, he seems to not need your help anymore – struggling up the steps, grunting with each movement of his injured leg, so you let him go, turning around to finish cleaning up. As you’re cleaning the blood from the floor, you’re face-to-face with the body of the bounty he’d dropped on the floor. You’d seen him deal with these bounties more than once – normally when they’re talking back and fighting – so this will prove easier than anticipated. The bounty is slight, so dragging it into the carbonite chamber is easy enough. You flip some switches and press a few buttons and in no time the bounty is stuck there, waiting to be handed off whenever Mando gets you back to Nevarro.

It’s not until much later that he reappears. You’ve fed the child, fed yourself, left a ration pack for him, and you’re just killing time, waiting for the child to wear himself out so you can finally let the exhaustion take over your body and sleep. Mando leans himself against the wall, watching you as you fuss over the child.

“Thank you,” His modulated voice hits your ears, “I’ve never had someone to help me like that.”

You look at him – this one doesn’t surprise you, the lone warrior who hasn’t allowed anyone but you to travel with him, of course he’s only ever had himself to stitch up his wounds.

“Well, I don’t know how to drive this damn thing,” You speak, knocking your knuckles against the wall next to you, “So it was pretty important for you not to die,” you wait for him to laugh but he doesn’t, “You’re welcome,” you speak quietly then, “Sorry it was a horrible sewing job.”

He walks towards you now, visible limp but better than you imagine anyone else with a similar injury would walk, sitting down on the bench next to you. He’s so close that you can feel the heat emanating from his body. He sets a gloved hand on your own thigh, squeezing it slightly, making your pulse jump. He has to know, right? He has to know that he has this effect on you? That whenever he touches you, though that isn’t often, it makes your blood boil with want. Does he know that as your hands worked to close his wound earlier all you could think about was what his perfect, meaty thigh would feel like wedged between your own?

He doesn’t move his hand, just lets it rest there, thumb rubbing across the material of your trousers, comforting you, because he’d scared you earlier, he knows he did, and he needs you to know he’s never going to leave you, even if he’s not quite ready to verbalise that to you yet. You let your head drop to his shoulder, closing your eyes as he stays there for you, his body offering you’re the comfort you so desperately need.

“I’m always going to fix you Mando,” you speak quietly, “You’ll never have to stitch yourself up ever again.”

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elliesbluntfr · 1 month

Text

Haunting Me. - Ellie Williams

synopsis - a barn dance has been planned for weeks, after a very successful winter you all deserve a party! everybody in jackson will be in attendance including ellie williams, who is hoping that she will see you there.

cw: wlw! no use of y/n, more plot with slight smut, ellie self pleasuring, fingering, mentions of cunnilingus, a lottt of pining from ellie

~this is my first fic!! please be nice lmao and thank you for reading! <3~

————————————————————————

“Maeveee are you nearly readyyy?” you sing excitedly, throwing your hairbrush back on the dressing table after smoothing out the ends of your hair. Tonight was the night of the barn dance. Everybody had been talking non stop about it for weeks and for some reason, the topic never got boring.

This winter was one of the harshest you’ve seen by far, with everybody working so hard it was about time that spring had arrived to ease that work load.

“This night better make up for all those patrols we did, I mean seriously I still have blisters on my heels from last October.” Maeve sighed, appearing from the bathroom after checking herself once more before leaving.

You smile brightly, walking to her and squeezing her hand in comfort. Of course it was all worth it, even if there had been no dance planned, it was just nice to see everybody make it through. The sense of community in Jackson was just impeccable, and your best friend Maeve made it even better.

“Come on girl, let’s go have some fun.” You beam, not letting go of her hand as she smiles in return, following you out of the door.

The slight 9pm chill blows the bottom of your white mini dress against your upper thighs, sending a wave of goosebumps across them, a mixture of anticipation and coldness now evident on your skin. The black slightly fraying cowboy boots you had found at the clothes trade in a few years back crunching against the disappearing frosty grass beneath you. The stitching from the pattern was falling out, but you made do with tying the dangly bits of string in cute bows to give the effect that they weren’t entirely unravelling. You looked stunning anyway, and you felt it too.

“Sooo are you gonna talk to you know who tonight?” Maeve teased, tucking the stray bit of blonde hair away from her eyeline. You knew exactly who she was talking about.

“You mean Jenna right?” rolling your eyes in return. She was just a girl you’d hooked up with a decent amount of times. As great as Jackson is, the dating options are quite limited.

The guys were just well… disappointing, and around 98% of the girls were straight, leaving you with at least 5 options. Jenna was one of them, but you both made it clear, your situation was strictly hooking up. No feelings or anything else. It was the perfect arrangement, and you both had kept it exactly that way for a good 4 months now, up until a few weeks ago.

“To answer your question Maevey, no. She’s seeing Cat now, they seem to be good together.” You answer plainly.

“It’s okay to be jealous you know, you don’t have to put up a front with me.” Maeve adds, her tone shining with sincerity and care. You let go of her hand and link in with her arm instead, resting your head on her shoulder as you walk out of the residential area and onto the main streets.

“I’m genuinely not jealous, it’s just been a while you know.” you chuckled, as Maeve adds in a few agreeing ‘me too girl’ pats on the top of your hand. Raising your head from her shoulder, you turn and face her.

“So go for it with Max already! I know he likes you.” you smirk, watching her blush and roll her eyes.

“You may as well just shut the fuck up right now cause it’s not gonna happen.” she concludes getting flustered, pressing the back of her hand against her cheek to feel the heat coming off it.

“Mhmmm alright then, wait and see.” you taunt, discreetly pointing ahead of you both. There stood the 4 missing friends to your ensemble; Cassidy, Jude, Eddie and Max all huddled together waiting on your arrival.

9:04pm inside the bar.

“Waste of my fucking time.” Ellie mutters, rolling her eyes and tapping her booted foot impatiently against the wooden floor. Jesse scoffs, and turns around to stare at her dumbfounded.

“Ellie. You have been here for exactly 10 minutes. Will you. Give it. A chance?” he taunts at her, knowing full well she’s a short tempered little bitch.

“You know what,” she pauses, snatching the last drink ticket out of his hands,

“Thanks for the drink asshole.” promptly putting a stop to her unwanted torment. A few quick whatthefucks were heard from Jesse, as she chuckled to herself walking away. Approaching the far right of the hall, she hands the ticket to Nick.

“Another whiskey please.” Ellie requests with a nod towards the bottle, which was swiftly picked up and poured into a small glass. Questioning her life choices as to why she came here tonight, she glances out the window not expecting to find you.. the one person she was hoping would show up.

“Here ya go.” snapping Ellie back to the present, she thanks Nick for her drink and slowly walks towards the window to get a better look.

You’re greeting your friends with warm hugs and demonstrating your ‘pretty sexy outfit’ Ellie had described to herself in her head. A few wolf whistles and laughter follows, making Ellie wince in subtle jealousy. That one guy Jude twirls you around. Bastard.

He’s not really a bastard, and Ellie knows this.

Adjusting her eyeline back to you, she watches Maeve take your arm as you guys start to make your away across the busy street. Ellie clears her throat and pushes herself off the wall, heading back to Jesse and Dina.

“Ellie did you take Jesse’s drink??” Dina questions, trying to stifle a laugh escaping from her pretty obvious query.

“Yup.” she answers, toasting the glass of Jim Beam in the air before taking a satisfying swig.

“Unbelievable.” Jesse retorts crossing his arms, imitating a seemingly very sassy man.

Dina entertains this, wrapping her arms around him whilst sarcastically soothing his back with the palm of her hand.

“You guys are gross.” Ellie states, turning to rest her lower back against the table behind her. Dina turns around as Jesse envelopes her from behind. Knowing that Ellie isn’t a fan of these things, Dina reaches out a hand to place on her lower arm encouragingly.

“Why don’t you talk to her Els?” Dina enquires, with a look of positivity on her face hoping it’ll wear off onto Ellie’s current “totally miserable I hate everything about my life” persona.

She just shakes her head and fidgets with the buttons on her long sleeved black shirt. Without taking her eyeline away from the door waiting for you to walk in, losing any sense of confidence she had left in her.

———————————

“Can we go inside already we’re missing it!” Cassidy pleads, grabbing onto her boyfriends shirt in order to urge him to start walking to the bar. A collective cheer sounded, and everybody started the hurried walk towards free booze and a long awaited excuse to dance.

Bursting through the doors, a strong smell of dusty wood lingered heavily in the air, greatly overpowered with the copious amount of laughter and dancing circling your ears. The bar was so cutely decorated, you made a mental note that it should be permitted to keep it this way forever. Fairy lights dancing from the ceilings, swaying every so often due to Tommy lifting Maria up into the air, spinning her in his arms. Others naturally followed their lead in their individual couples, now really making the lights move to the music. Grinning at everybody finally having some fun, someone stuck out like a sore thumb. You spot a girl that looked familiar to you, but couldn’t match a name to her pouty face. Until you saw Dina stood by her, an obvious socialite who was a mutual friend of yours. You had remembered her bringing up this girl before. Trying to trace back to any conversation that might have had her name in it, and then it clicked. Her name was Ellie.

A familiar tune had started to play when you guys entered the bar..

Wagon Wheel by Darius Rucker.

Everybody seemed to know this one, as the majority of the very full bar had made their way to the middle of the room.

The familiar hand of your friend Maeve crept into yours, pulling you along for a dance. The rest of your group followed in a hurried mess, ensuring to not miss any more of the song.

At least half of the room started a line dance, and oh god you had not practiced this particular style. The scurry of feet doubled and doubled, as everyone joined in.

“GIRL I DON’T KNOW WHAT I’M DOING!” you exclaim already in a fit of giggles.

“LET’S JUST TRY KEEP UP!” Maeve said confidently, and so you agreed confidently too.

It was a mess of course. Tommy and Maria greeted everybody, audibly laughing at your miserable attempt to fit in. Tommy was a master at all things country and western, so he knew everything down to a T.

“TRY IT LIKE THIS.” he tried to direct loudly over the music and the sound of people, but it was no use.

Ellie furrowed her eyebrows, scanning the crowd silently happy with just watching everybody, especially you. Twirling around repeatedly tapping your boots to the beat of the music, you were effortless.

Just effortless. Ellie voiced in her mind, admiring the way your hair was flowing with your movements, always settling in the most beautiful array of different styles with each spin. The sleeves of your dress kept falling from your shoulders, after a while you just gave up with resting them back where they should be. Carefree for those 5 minutes, for the first time in months.

flashback:

She had to admit, your dancing wasn’t exactly the line dancing scene in the 2011 Footloose movie. Last weeks community movie night was of course.. the 2011 Footloose, to get everybody excited and in the mood to dance and celebrate. Ellie had been sat with Dina whilst watching the movie, nodding and singing along to Fake ID when the bar scene came on.

She was sat a few rows behind you, and could see whenever you turned to whisper to your friends or giggled at something that was going on in the movie. Every time you laughed, Ellie laughed too.

“Alright creepo you’re gonna burn holes in the back of her head if you don’t stop staring.” Dina nudged her grinning.

“Yeah yeah whatever.” Ellie hushes, trying to contain a smile batting Dina’s mocking hand away.

A wolf whistle caught Ellie’s attention, coming from one of the guys in front of her as Ariel, the reverends daughter from the movie, appeared dancing on the projection screen. For some reason, she looked at you to see if you had reacted in a similar way to seeing Ariel. She was trying to figure out your type. Ellie knew that you were gay, since the news about you and Jenna had spread around a couple months back. She figured you were into more girly girls, long flowing hair paired with bright colours as Jenna was. Wondering if she could possibly ever be your type was a constant reoccurrence in Ellie’s imagination. Scratching the side of her neck as her mind began showing her intimate moments the two of you have had many times in her head. She thought of you all the time, thought of everything she could do to you. Thought of everything you could be doing with Jenna, which set her body temperature high. Ellie knew she could be better for you. Treat you better, make you feel even better than Jenna does. The heat rising between her thighs alerted her to stop thinking, and to just focus on the movie instead.

It was a miserable 2 hours waiting to get back to her place. Locking her door as soon as she got in, then pulling the blinds closed. Ignoring the pressing feeling in her clit, she made her way to the bathroom to take a shower. Blocking out any image of you that came to her, she shifted her focus on just getting to bed for her early patrol in 7 hours.

Removing her sweatpants and tank, the coldness of the bathroom crept up her skin, making her shiver. The warmth of the water instantly soothed her, closing her eyes and letting herself loosen up. No matter what, you just kept finding your way in.

She imagined you in front of her, the water making your back glisten, almost entrancing her to kiss between your shoulder blades, and all the way up to both sides of your neck. Imagines lightly biting and sucking the sweet spots of your neck, tasting the faint and fading notes of your floral-citrus perfume, making her moan at the familiar comfort of your scent.

Blood rushes to her cheeks. She couldn’t stop herself, teasing her hand down her slick body, stopping at her nipples that were hardened by the thought of you. Her eyes fluttered shut at the wave of pleasure, as her breaths drew louder and deeper. Reaching between her thighs the feeling nearly knocked her over, frantically grabbing onto the shower curtain beside her.

“oh ffuck..” she whispered, already breathless. Her middle finger slid between her folds, seeking that warmth. Wasting no time, her fingers entered inside causing her to moan instantly. The growing desperation of releasing the pressure in her clit was evident, pumping her fingers at a growing pace chasing her orgasm. The moans resting in her throat were growing more primal and desperate with every movement. The shine from the shower water on her abs was replaced with a sheen of sweat, appearing on her forehead and the whole of her chest. The humidity of the shower steaming up the bathroom was making the stars in her vision even brighter. Ellie could have sworn you were with her at one point, chasing the silhouette of your naked body amidst the steam.

“oh fffuck ohmy-nmhhh” she groaned, catching sight of her clenched hand gripping the shower curtain. Imagined she was actually gripping your bed sheets, and you were the one making her feel like this with your tongue stroking between her folds, face getting soaked with her cum.

Her legs were shaking, struggling to keep her upright as her orgasm rushed over her. Cumming as fast as the feelings arrived, she was left breathless by you, and you weren’t even there to see it.

——————————————

“Earth to Ellieee!!?”

a voice broke through to her, snapping her awake from the flashback.

“Oh sh-shit Dina I’m sorry, what did you say?” Ellie stumbled on her words, trying to hide whatever that was with a laugh, but she could only feel how hot she was.

“You’re bright red, are you burning up? Jesse go get her some water.” Dina requested, putting an arm around her to check if she was stable.

“Are you sure she doesn’t want another one of my whiskeys?” Jesse scoffs, still bitter from earlier, but still trails off get some water. Ellie’s chest felt way too hot and tight.. a bit like-

“Yeah I’m great!” Ellie rushed to cut off any further indecent thoughts of you. She knew that she had just blew every chance she had of seeming normal now. Motioning towards the door and without saying a word, awkwardly left and made her way towards it.

So dumb so dumb so dumb. Ellie repeated under her breath just trying to get out of there as quickly as possible. The only way out was through the crowd.

You hadn’t left the dance floor since you arrived half an hour ago, song after song entrancing you to keep dancing. Your excellent way of sweet talking gained you a few extra drinks, might have helped that one of the guys had a crush on you.. idiot didn’t realise you were gay.

Maeve had been with you the whole time dancing and trying to attract Max’s attention, with some encouragement from the alcohol. Which had definitely worked, as he came over to ask her to get a drink with him. You sent her off with a flirty wink and a “told you so” smile, leaving you to third wheel with Cassidy and her boyfriend. You were right in the middle of the room which was getting a bit too hot, leaving little pearls of sweat on your forehead.

“I’m gonna go get some air!” you shout to Cassidy over the music, and she nods blowing you a kiss.

Tapping people on the shoulders wasn’t quite working, so you just kept repeating sorry as you shoved pressingly through the crowd. Someone had knocked into you which sent you flying into the back of somebody. Looking up, you recognise that person you bumped into.

“I am so sorry oh my god, did I hurt you?” you ask looking up at her. Turning around, Ellie’s breath caught in her throat as she realised it was you. Oh god this can’t be happening, her inner voice panicked, booming throughout her entire body.

“Uhh.. yeah yeah you’re good. Don’t worry about it.” she nods looking down at you slightly, meeting your eyeline for the first time.

She didn’t tell you if she was hurt like you had asked, but in that moment you didn’t even realise. You both had each others full attention, taking in her features as she took in yours. The freckles cascaded across Ellie’s face looked like they had been individually painted in the most perfect places. The way her short auburn hair fell effortlessly on top of her broad shoulders, a single strand framing her face that you couldn’t look away from. Your eyes glanced repeatedly across her face making sure to cover every detail, careful not to miss anything.

For fucks sake she’s even prettier up close.

Pushed Ellie to say more.

“Are you good?” Ellie asks trying to keep it casual, surprised she even managed to get words out.

“Oh yeah, was just heading outside for some air.” you reply, nodding towards the way out.

“My bad sorry.” she says, trying to back up into any available space to let you pass her.

“Thank you, and sorry again for bumping into you.”

As you walk, her senses are soaked in you. Breathing through her nose, her eyes close in disbelief of your perfume. Floods her brain and settles behind her eyes, as if she was trying to bottle that moment inside her refusing to ever let it go. She watches you disappear through the crowd, licking her lips and chewing on the bottom one.

Ellie had been watching the way your eyes scanned across her face the entire time, but could also see the way your chest rose and fell so close to her.

Fuck it. she voices, walking after you.

Anxiousness was washed away and replaced with greed and desperation. She had to have more.

#ellie williams #ellie williams x reader #ellie williams smut #ellie williams imagine #the last of us 2 #ellie williams x you #ellie williams tlou2 #ellie williams x female reader #smut #ellie williams fic #ellie x reader smut

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arcanesea · 5 months

Text

movie | lee seokmin x reader | 529 w.

"Did you ransack the convenience store?" you ask upon seeing Seokmin with a bunch of snacks in his long arms.

"First off, that's not nice, and a little help please?" he demands. You laugh a little before making your way across the room to take some of the snacks from his arms. He must have forgotten the shopping bag again, but that doesn't seem to stop him from getting all of these snacks.

After setting everything on the coffee table in the living room, Seokmin flopped down on the couch, huffing.

"So, what are we watching?" he asked, leaning forward to grab one bag of chips. Both of you had promised to spend the weekend doing a movie marathon. Ever the gentleman, he lets you choose your favorite. But somehow, that makes you very nervous. What if he didn't like your movie pick? What if he finds it boring?

"Howl's Moving Castle," you uttered. You know it's a very well-known movie from Ghibli Studios, but Seokmin claimed he had never seen any of them. On the other hand, these movies have become somewhat of a religion for you since you first laid eyes on them.

After pressing play, you leaned back on the sofa, feeling Seokmin arms on the back of your neck. He leaves a small kiss in your temple before leaning back with you.

"Woah!" he exclaims when the first scene comes into the TV. "That's so beautiful."

If you're being honest, this is the first time Howl's Moving Castle become a background noise. You're too immersed in watching Seokmin at every scene. In awe of his pure reaction, and those round eyes reflecting the pretty light of the movie.

"Woah? That was so good?" he pointed out. "Why have I never watched it before?" he asks, more to himself than you.

"Do you like it?" you ask back. Earning a look of disbelief from Seokmin.

"Are you kidding? I love it!" he exclaims. "It's so beautiful and the music is so soothing. I understand why's this your favorite movie, sweetheart."

"Good, good," you murmured, pleased by his answer. "But I actually like it because Howl is so handsome," you teased. Seokmin lets out a sarcastic laugh before cupping your face.

"Hey, let's not lie now, you keep glancing at me throughout the whole movie," he paused, pressing a chaste kiss on your pouting lips. "you think I wouldn't notice?" he quips back, making you roll your eyes in annoyance while suppressing a grin.

You break free from his grip, reaching to the remote as you say, "Fine, now onto the next Ghibli movies."

"Is the male main character even more handsome?" he sassed.

"They're all good-looking actually, but none of them are real, so..." you responded, leaning back to your initial position, snuggling closer to Seokmin who was laughing at your answer.

"What's that the thing Howl said..." he recalled. "いいコだ?"

"You're cheesy," you said, Shaking your head in embarrassment. Hiding the fact that you're blushing.

"You love that," was his only response. Even when you can't see him, you know he has that smug smile plastered all over his face.

Indeed, you do love that.

a/n. i hope Seokmin has actually watched Howl's Moving Castle at least once?

いいコだ = that's my girl (aka every hopeless romantic's favorite line)

#seventeen au #seventeen fluff #seventeen x reader #svt drabbles #svt au #svt imagines #svt x reader #svt fluff #dokyeom x reader #svt dk x reader #seokmin x reader #dokyeom fluff #seokmin fluff

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bbanghiitomi · 2 months

Text

| caught in a line

synopsis: tangled upon an endless string of feelings, both love and suffering, y/n intends to hide somewhere the love of her life will never find her — but in the process of losing the strings connecting her to her past, she gets stuck on a new one (her future).

— non-idol!childhoodfriend!kminji × non-idol!fem!reader × non-idol!khaerin!

note: holy moly i've been so busy in the past few months/weeks and i'm tryna catch up on some stuff lately but AH a post after 10 years... hope u guys are doing well also this was requested by anon, thanks! hope u guys liked it, comments are very appreciated.

(⁠๑⁠´⁠•⁠.̫⁠ ⁠•⁠ ⁠`⁠๑⁠)(⁠๑⁠´⁠•⁠.̫⁠ ⁠•⁠ ⁠`⁠๑⁠)(⁠๑⁠´⁠•⁠.̫⁠ ⁠•⁠ ⁠`⁠๑⁠)(⁠๑⁠´⁠•⁠.̫⁠ ⁠•⁠ ⁠`⁠๑⁠)

"where are you going?" you take a deep breath as you turn around to face minji, you can see the confused look on her face and all you could do was to give her a short chuckle. "home." you answer almost a little too late as minji starts taking steps to approach you, you watch as she almost, stomps her way to you, with a pout on her lips. "alright, now. why didn't you tell me? i was looking for you the whole time." minji brushes her long fingers on her raven hair as she exhales, you stare at her and immediately you shift your sight away from her gorgeous face — for the better, you decide.

"i didn't have the chance, i tried to approach you but you were talking with your classmate." you tell her, you see the way her eyebrows relax and she nods, you stand there in front of her waiting for a response but all she can do is scratch her nape. "uhm, right. hanni, she was... we were having a conversation about papers." minji shrugs, you laugh, finding yourself looking away awkwardly.

"if that's the case, i should really get going. if you don't have any questions no more, that is." you smile and the tension feels weird, you're standing there, as if you have somewhere to go and you're about to be late and minji stands in front of you as if she had nowhere to go. minji looks around and reaches for your hand. "hey, we're supposed to go home together, right?" she asks, and oh — of course, you didn't know what went into you, how did you forgot?

you place a hand on your forehead and shake your head. "oh right, i thought you'd go home later. yes, we should get going now!" you point to the main gate of the school and see minji laughing. "you're so funny." she mutters.

for some reason, you don't know when or where it all started, but you've been feeling something blooming inside of your chest — it's ticklish, you feel it everytime you come across minji and at first, it felt funny, but now... it's starting to get more evident as the time passes by.

you tried to ignore it, at least you tried not to think too much of it. it's just getting harder, as the clock ticks and so is your time here. you have come to a realization that maybe, there has to be a better way out of this.

"you were absent yesterday... ms. hwang asked me about your whereabouts and i couldn't answer since you weren't telling me." you stopped your finger from further tapping on your mouse, your eyes are staring at your laptop, suddenly finding your interest in the document plastered on the screen. in all honesty, you're scared, just right now... sitting here beside minji, you can feel the way your heart is beating, as if it's getting harder to breathe.

it's not like this before... you remember it very well, when this feeling inside your chest used to be tender, sweet, and comforting. it felt like there were flowers fluttering inside your chest, it's ticklish but now —

it's starting to feel suffocating.

you smile, and turn around to look at minji. "i didn't think it would be a big deal, i had to run some errands for my mother." in fact, that was a lie. you were sent to see a doctor for a check up by your mother, she's been noticing your unusual antics lately. you've been having a hard time breathing, sometimes you'd say it's because you were tired walking around the house, doing stuff at school. eventually you come to realize that you wouldn't be able to lie forever and hide it, that one day people will find out.

you're scared to tell minji about it.

"okay, then why didn't you tell me?" minji pushes further, you knew her— since you two were babies, of course she's stubborn! that's how much she cares for you, even just as a friend. you stretch your lips into a thin line, looking at her with concern in your eyes, then you just give up.

“minji, it's because i don't think it's something to worry about. plus, i already got my record slip from the student council office. it's all good now, don't worry.” you shrug and continue to type on your keyboard, minji doesn't seem pleased by it and she's going to do anything to let you know that she wants to get an actual answer.

“is everything okay between us?” you feel your finger freeze, your heart starts to beat at a pace you couldn't comprehend. you look at her, seeing a frown on her lips, her thick brows furrowed to show signs of distress and disappointment. “...what do you mean?” you ask her, minji looks at you as if she heard a stupid joke, there's an expression of disbelief on her face, trying to find confirmation that you were indeed kidding.

but no, you were beyond serious.

“y/n, you’ve been avoiding me. i mean, what's the matter? you don't even bother telling me anything, we haven't had a proper conversation for months.” you blink at her, has it really been that long? time feels a little faster when you're with her… but has it really been that long for her?

you shake your head, closing your laptop as you look away. “no… i… minji, i’m sorry. i didn't mean to make you feel that way.” you look up at her, you have almost forgotten that both of you were at the campus park, not a lot but a good amount of people would be able to see and hear your conversation with her.

minji sighs, closing her eyes and standing up with clenched fists. “okay fine, you can't even provide an actual explanation, or an answer!” you can hear the way her shoes stomps at the grassy floor, even as your heart beat gets louder on your ears, you can hear her very well.

you feel your heart clench, then it’s getting harder to breathe, as if something was blocking your airway.

“minji…” you whisper looking up at her, your eyes starting to swell with tears.

“if that's what you want then okay! let's just… i don't even want to talk to you about anything anymore, you make me feel like this friendship is one-sided.” minji stomps away from you, leaving you with your hands on your chest, trying your best to breathe properly but you're running out of air.

it doesn't help the fact that tears are running down your face and your chest starts to hurt, so much…

it's kind of ironic to hear her feel that way, one-sided feelings… yet she can just find someone else.

it's so unfair.

maybe, the doctor must have lied to you. you swore it was just a mild flu, now you’re inside your bathroom staring at bloodied petals that have fallen out of your mouth whilst you cough violently. how did this happen?

no matter how many times you ask yourself it wouldn't matter nor it would make complete sense, being dumbfounded that these feelings that you have grown for minji — the same feelings that made you experience the sweet rush, the yearning, it was supposed to be sweet, it was supposed to be warm…

it was supposed to be innocent and pure, how did something that was once ticklish start to hurt?

you rush to your room, with shaking hands you reach over to your chair then to your study table to open your laptop — there must be an answer to this, right?

an answer where you don't need to confide minji and have her disappointed, an answer where you don't need to hear words from your mother, scolding.

an answer that you can accept even just for a small amount of time, just so you can ease the pain whilst hiding it.

you don't want to see a doctor’s face, staring at you with pity in their eyes because it makes you feel so much weaker than you are, as if you can get any weaker.

even if it feels hard, your fingers push the keys on your keyboard, one by one, bit by bit as if unsure.

“hanahaki disease…”

hanahaki… disease..?

trying to understand what it means, you browse even further.

apparently, it happens when the victim starts to cough up petals, the symptoms being severe chest pain in chest, because of petals growing from the heart and chest before the victim throws them up. this happens when the victim's feelings aren't reciprocated, meaning one-sided love.

however, it is only through romantic feelings that the illness could be healed; friendship isn't strong enough to take the pain away.

this is absurd. you think to yourself, there's no way such a thing exists…

the only way to confirm this was actually going to the hospital to get yourself checked.

you eventually dread the idea, having to not consult your own mother about it and get yourself appointed immediately.

the hallway of the hospital feels haunted, the air around the place feels colder than usual — you stand trying to calm yourself down, but it's hard when you’ve got no one to run to.

the thought of minji starts to hurt you again, you feel the same prickling pain in your chest, as if there were thorns wrapped around your heart, pushing down and piercing the flesh.

you try to breathe properly, reaching a hand to your chest and hoping to make it stop. there's no one here to help you, and you're all alone — there's a ringing silence and you start to lose yourself a bit, light headed.

“are you okay?” there's a clacking of heels, not that far from you but you choose to ignore it as you walk, another hand on the wall; hoping you’d disappear quickly.

you realize someone must have seen you, you turn your head back to see a girl making her way towards you, cladded with a nurse uniform, all white and it hurts your eyes. “hey, please stand by — you can't just walk around while being in pain.” she tells you, as if she knew any better.

and in fact she did, but you're too stupid to admit that, not when you're in your worst state; you tell yourself no one will understand you.

“god, it hurts. can i just — sit down for a moment?” you let go of your chest and take a seat on a nearest bench inside the hall, sighing as you shake your head trying to take the thought of minji out of your head but it's hard when you've been missing her for so long.

“you can but don't you think it's better to get yourself checked first? you can't just walk around knowing you're in such pain.” the girl sits next to you, you nod even though you really couldn't care much. “yeah i know… but my appointment is tomorrow.” you sigh as you lean on the bench, taking the gods above as the pain eases — eventually you start to hope you don't start coughing here.

the girl stands up and pats her lap, she looks quite determined but you ignore her cat-like eyes looking down on you. “still, we can make an emergency appointment. do you think you can do that? it's for the best.” seems like it's this girl’s job to get in strangers’ business, you can't be mad but you want some peace even just for now.

“that's nice but i can't invade the doctor’s schedule for my own liking.” you tell the girl in a hush tone, as if being forced to make a conversation — the girl, who you assumed is a nurse — shakes her head and turns around, looking at you with her index finger pointing out to you. “don't leave, i’ll sign a letter for you.” you scoff when she leaves, you're feeling too weak to even move.

“this girl… i swear to god.” you mutter, closing your eyes as you feel the pain spiking in again. you remember how minji was stubborn too, all because she wants the best for you yet you think of how much she's the one causing you the pain you're suffering lately.

you seriously hate feeling helpless, but at times like this… it's the only thing you could do.

you hear the same clacking of heels and you open your eyes to see the same girl, holding some papers and passing it over to you.

“you should know that you need this appointment, the doctor understands and we only need your cooperation.” you stare at her face, her piercing eyes and you feel like losing.

“alright.” you tell her as you grab the paper and have it signed.

she stays with you and you spend the time staring at thin air, casually scratching your cheek every now and then. “i’m kang haerin, a nursing student — i’m an intern here.” haerin seems impatient looking at you, you look down and start asking yourself how in the world you got in this situation.

haerin doesn't seem that social herself, but she's trying to keep this conversation maybe because she's found something about you that she can continue to watch out for, for your own sake.

“i’m choi y/n, applied mathematics.” you see her nod and look away immediately and it had you almost laughing.

it was quiet for almost 15 minutes, you didn't mind it but it was starting to suffocate haerin, only cause she doesn't like this type of awkwardness.

you stand up and brush your shirt. “i need to go to the restroom.” you tell haerin, she looks up and she stands up, confusing you. “uh—?”

“i should go and accompany you… for the better.” you see her stone like face, you give her a ‘what has gone into you’ look and shake your head. “no, i’m not leaving if that's what you're thinking. i just need to —”

haerin shakes her head. “i need to go too.” you look at her and laugh. “uh, this needs to stop, it's ridiculous.” you raise your hand over to her, gesturing that you’ve had enough.

but she doesn't give up.

“nope, i take my duties seriously. if something happens to you, i won't be able to forgive myself.”

you nod and raise your hands. “you're not even a nurse yet.” you remind her.

haerin shakes her head, again. “and i won't become one if i can't get this task done.”

you realize she really wasn't gonna give up. “alright, whatever.” you tell her and start walking, she follows.

the restroom is haunting, you feel the cold water on your hand as you reach over to the faucet, there's something stuck on your throat and you lean over before coughing it all up — petals… again, you grimace and feel the pain on your chest again.

you feel a hand on your back, another breathing beside you. “hey, can you still manage?” you watch as the water from the faucet slowly wash the blood and petals away.

“what's happening to me..?” you whisper, haerin doesn't give you an answer. you figured she must feel bad, very bad— you can feel her burning gaze on your face.

“we can have mr. jeon answer that, i’m pretty sure he can help you.” haerin has a pretty voice, you nod at her and feel yourself calming down slowly.

you breathe heavily and stare at her, you don't believe she doesn't know it herself. “answer me, you know it for sure.” you whisper to her, and there was nothing but the sound of water droplets from the faucet as haerin keeps her mouth shut, for the sake of everyone.

haerin shakes her head. “i can't be the one telling you that.”

you eventually give up asking her.

the office was quiet as the doctor read out your condition. it was just as bad as you first learned about it — hearing about it from the doctor didn't ease the weight on your shoulders. you thought that maybe having a doctor tell you about it would be much more reassuring but no, not even his caring tone helped you because you understand how doomed you were.

“there's a lot of treatment for this, i suggest you take medicines first — if you can't handle the pressure of getting a surgery.” you know it would be nice to have it removed already but it's — it's scary, you’ve never been fond of surgeries, have you been always so healthy growing up.

until maybe you discovered love through a friend.

you rub your eyes with your hand, trying to figure out if any of this was real, but you knew it was, it's just hard to accept.

it's not over yet but it feels like there's no hope for you.

“this sounds ridiculous.” you whisper, frustration evident in your tone.

“yes i know, it does sound stupid but it's the truth.” mr. jeon tells you, he understands your frustrations, it's genuinely hard to accept how some stupid feelings can push your life to the edge — it doesn't sound real, not any of this feels real.

you put your hand on your lap, shrugging.

“i’ll settle on the medicine first, maybe i have to tell my parents about this.” you tell mr. jeon who nods.

“you definitely have to, you need support from loved ones — specially in times like this, when you can't get the same love you give.” he adds to it.

“i’m sorry for walking out on you like that, that was so rude of me and very selfish — i should’ve known better.” minji finally decided to see you again after what you thought was several weeks. you know she's doing better without you and maybe it was for the better.

you sigh and shrug, maybe the emotional load of having to see minji again is taking a toll on you but you've been very diligent in taking medicine and coming to hospital when needed.

“yeah i’m sorry too, i know you care for me but minji it's alright.” you put a hand on your forehead while minji still looks at you. your room feels dead, there's not much around and minji's presence makes breathing even hard.

it used to feel so good, when these feelings of yours were once that funny, stupid, childish yearning and looking at minji made your heart skip a beat in a good way.

now looking at her again makes you want to implode, petals growing inside of you even worse.

minji wants to say something, but she knows it's gonna end in disaster again. she's so distraught by the idea you're hiding something from her and she's never been the type to love to hide and seek because she keeps on losing, never been the type to love liars and never been the type to be unreliable.

maybe, minji’s used to be your boulder during landslides. but it wasn't going to be like that forever, eventually she'll have to find someone else and you have to get these stupid petals off of you.

you receive a message from haerin.

kang haerin

haerin: hey, have you taken your medicine.

haerin: i was tasked to send emails to you everyday at a certain time, please always read them.

y/n: when was it a nurse’s job to email patients.

haerin: mr. jeon told me to do so, now please send me your email.

y/n: wait.

“who’s that?” minji asks, you stand up from your bed and walk your way to your desk, grabbing something from one of the drawers and turning your back to minji. “a blockmate, asking for help.” you tell her, letting out a small cough.

minji squints her eyes and looks away, this is complicated.

“i need to do something here in my bathroom, just wait a bit.” you tell minji, looking at her with a small smile — minji feels like crumbling, she hates when you look at her that way, she feels small and weak.

it's a bad habit to think of hating the feeling of being inferior to your feelings.

you close the bathroom door, leaving minji sitting on your bed, grasping on think threads of hope.

kang haerin

y/n: ********@gmail.com

y/n: why are you doing this again?

haerin: mr. jeon is your private doctor and i am under his care. it's my task to do what he thinks is best.

y/n: alright, i have a friend here and need to get off soon.

haerin: okay.

haerin: take care.

y/n: yeah.

minji grumbles and stands up, walking towards your desk and seeing a bunch of crumpled pieces of paper — it's not something new, you’ve always been the type to leave things like that.

minji picks up one paper, particularly your medication prescription from mr. jeon, reading it carefully.

when did you start taking medicine?

have you told her before?

maybe she forgot?

the other one however, was a medical report from mr. jeon too.

he jotted down all your symptoms and there's the ripped part of the final result.

minji closed her eyes, sighing.

you finally open the door and see minji standing by your desk, you immediately walk up to her and take the paper from the desk. “how is this supposed to be okay?” she asks you, you avoid her gaze while she looks at you with hatred.

“because i said so —” you feel her hands on your shoulders, pulling you to look at her. “why can't you just tell me the truth?” minji whispers harshly, you close your eyes as you shake your head, calming yourself.

“i wasn't ready…” you only tell her.

“what? how — when did you start acting like this? have i done something wrong? come on, tell me!” minji shouts, you feel suffocated by her grip and you reach for her wrist.

“let go, you won't get it!” you yell back, pushing her away and she lets go of your shoulders causing you to stumble over. minji feels bad, maybe not because a part of her doesn't understand why you're acting like this at all.

“what part won't i get? i mean, we’ve been friends for years!” minji looks at you and you start catching your breath, with just a cough — a petal falls from your lips, and there’s blood on the floor. your cough turns violent, like a rain raging into a storm, minji can hear your voice ringing in her ear as you weeze for a breath.

“y/n… y/n!?” you feel minji’s hands on your shoulders and she lifts you up to look at you, she feels her heart drop, thinking it must have been her fault. “y/n… what's happening?” her voice is shaking and she looks at you with panic written all over her face, her palm grazing your cheeks.

“i’m okay…” you mutter and close your eyes, tears start to swell and it's hot, forming on the corners of your eyes. “it's just that — you know, i can't breathe!” your hand touches her shoulder, gripping it tightly as if not wanting to let go. minji embraces your figure, holding you close. “come on, let's go.” she whispers, gesturing to your room.

“i love you… so much minji, it hurts a lot.” your phone starts to ring, and you guess it's from haerin.

“what..?” minji mutters.

“that’s why it hurts like this because —” you start to sob, not knowing what to do when you're standing here with her arms around you, you feel weak about it and it's humiliating when you think about how pathetic it is to be in such pain over someone who you're supposed to be friends with.

you wake up, a hand on your forehead and it's hurting like hell. you look around to see everything in complete brightness, the hospital room reflects the light above, everything is in the color of white. you shift from the bed, a hand on your chest trying to find the safe fluttering feeling inside, the type that feels suffocating.

you notice how you couldn't feel it, particularly clueless to how and where it is now — you try to navigate the same pain you usually endure but you figured, it must be because minji is nowhere to be seen.

the door creaks, it opens and you look up to see haerin's face, after several months of being stuck with her, you realize it wasn't that bad — she wasn't that bad.

you look down and feel the breeze of the air conditioner, haerin slowly enters inside and stands by the end of your bed.

“hey,” she calls.

you look up and smile at her, brushing a hand on your hair.

“do you remember the waiver you signed… like several months ago?” she asks, you look at her, to her cat-like eyes and feel something inside, you ignore it.

“yes, i think… i guess it happened.” you mutter, it was awkward and haerin hates it when things get awkward. maybe because she wants you to feel better, she pushes strands of her hair behind her very noticeable ear then she clears her throat.

“yeah, it was a success — i bet you feel so much better now.” she smiles, like she always does when you actually listen to what she says.

you remember signing a waiver, a deal you made with mr. jeon, that if you’re at your worst state caused by the disease you will have to have an emergency surgery immediately as soon as it happens.

you thought that it would be a good idea, you want to wait at least a little more just in case that pain disappears but it was taking too long. that time you passed out on minji’s arms, you knew it would have been the right time to finally let go.

“i do. it's weird right? nothing much has changed,” you pause as you reach out to your chest, closing your eyes as you breathe. “it feels like something is still fluttering inside my chest.” you tell haerin, haerin frowns and comes closer leaning towards you. “what's wrong? does it still hurt?” haerin asks, holding your shoulders.

you shrug, chuckling slightly. “no, it doesn't it's kind of funny, as if it's ticklish.” haerin sighs and glares at you playfully. “stop making jokes, i’m worried.” she whispers, and there’s silence going around the room as you both stare at each other, haerin blinks before gradually moving away for only a few centimeters, still wanting to check up on you.

“you’re worried… for me?” you whisper back as if teasing her to which she reacted positively by moving her head away with flushing cheeks.

“of course… after all, mr. jeon cares about your health too.” oh well, you laugh at her and she pouts at your reaction. “yeah, i’m his patient but… you were worried, is that true?” you ask her, haerin looks away and chuckles at your question.

“why would you want to know?”

“because i thought you’d think of me as if i’m a burden and annoying.”

haerin sits on the side of your bed, turning to look at you.

“i care for you because it's my job, okay?” haerin whispers, looking down at your hands.

you didn't pry your eyes away from her, yet start to feel more pulled by her aura.

“do you think of me the same when i’m not here?” you ask, again. even if it sounds like you're asking too much, it doesn't hurt to do so, right?

haerin doesn't move her eyes away from your hands on top of the blanket.

she laughs. “you ask so much, are you so curious… of course i care for you even if you're not here. outside of my job, i care for you even if i’m in my bedroom.” she adds.

you smile at her. “thanks.”

silence starts to engulf the whole room again, but it feels nice.

“say, am i a headache sometimes —” even before you get to finish your question she already butts in. “yes you are.”

you laugh. “wait are you serious?”

“yes i am.” she says.

you lean your head to look at her and she turns her head to you.

“do you regret forcing me to stay?” you ask.

haerin smiles at you. “no, i never did.”

haerin wants to feel bad for herself, not when she's starting to catch feelings for her mentor’s patient — someone who suffered a disease from a one-sided love, because she's afraid she might end up the same.

she doesn't want you to feel like she's taking advantage of your situation, because she's never felt something more genuine than her feelings for you.

“i… actually, nevermind.” haerin turns her head away from you and she starts to curse herself from piquing your interest. “what's up?” you ask her, looking at her over her shoulder. haerin looks at you and smiles, adjusting herself as she scoots closer. “it's nothing.” she tells you.

you brush it off and shrug, not wanting to force her to say something.

but haerin couldn't keep herself.

“i’ll say it, for the better.” haerin tries to relax her shoulders, eventually finding herself almost frozen under your gaze.

you scoot closer to her, your feet dangling over the edge of the bed and your shoulder touches hers. it's the kind of silence where you know everything is going to be okay, that haerin is just right there, beside you making sure you're going to be okay — that there's no reason for you to be scared.

“okay, go ahead.” you tell her.

haerin puts a hand on her face, sighing before she raises it slowly and looks at you — there's a small gap between your face and hers, your nose almost touching hers.

there's nothing to be afraid of… right?

“i�� i think i like you, y/n. it's like, i don't understand but i know i have these feelings for you and it's been bothering me for quite a while. i know this might not be a good thing but i hope you're okay with it.” haerin finishes her sentence and you move closer to lean your head to her shoulder, she looks down on your face — all her fear fades away.

even now haerin can't help but feel bad for herself sometimes, it's not easy to keep away from someone she cares for.

“it's okay.” haerin listens well and leans over to your head, getting a whiff of your shampoo.

“i’ll wait.” haerin leans to give your temple a kiss. you giggle, wrapping your arms around her in an embrace.

“you're so warm.” you grumble. “y-yeah, it's kind of hot here.” haerin whispers, you scoff playfully knowing she's making excuses to hide the fact she's flustered.

“thanks a lot haerin, seriously.” you mumble as you look up at her, haerin nods and smiles. “it's nothing, besides it's over now.” you agree and hug her even closer, haerin snuggles her nose on your hair.

minji buries her face in her hands, struggling to fight with the guilt seeping inside of her — maybe it was all her fault you’ve been in pain for so long, when she’s been selfish and mean, she could’ve been there for you instead. she's trying to find the courage to face you, but it's hard when all she sees whenever she closes her eyes is the memory of you crying at her — you're so much better than that, you deserve so much better.

“i can't do this.” minji shakes her head and groans, it's taking a toll on her. every night she wakes up and she wants to look for you but it feels like you're so far away from her. maybe you're running away and she's running out of time.

minji feels the hallway of the hospital stretches into something bigger, wider and emptier. then she's all alone with her thoughts and the voices inside her head until the silence rings into a noise.

maybe one day, she hopes sooner — she finds the courage to face you again.

y/n (⁠/⁠･⁠ω⁠･⁠(⁠-⁠ω⁠-⁠)

minji: hey, r u okay now?

minji: i’m so sorry.

minji: :((

minji: i’m so sorry y/n, let's see each other again? i’ll wait for your recovery

“the pillow smells great.” haerin whispers as she watches you lay on your bed, rolling over a few times, missing the comfort of your soft bed sheet, maybe without your tears on it. haerin laughs at the way you gush, pulling her knees to her chest and she keeps her eyes on you.

“i know, i love my bed so much.” you tell her, haerin nods, agreeing as she herself loves the comfort of her own room.

you roll and you lay on your back, hair sprawling all over the bed, you shift your eyes to haerin's direction and smile at her.

with your arms open wide you wordlessly call her to you. haerin sighs before chuckling and eventually reaching over to you in a hug, you feel the warmth of her body close to you and it feels like you're wrapped with a quilt, comforting and secure.

haerin lets you lean your head on her shoulder, hugging her as if she was a tree and you were a koala. “loosen up a bit, you're suffocating me.” haerin playfully complains, you huff and shake your head.

“stay here!” you tell her.

haerin sighs. “alright.”

haerin pats your head, you look up at her and leaned in, your forehead touching hers. you open your lips to say something but you close it immediately. “is something bothering you?” haerin whispers, looking at you with her wondering eyes. you smile at her and shake your head. “it's not that much but — i thought i should say it.”

haerin closes her eyes and opens it again. “go on, say whatever is in your mind.”

you give her a thankful smile, thankful because of how thoughtful she is.

“it's just… i’m worried about minji, because i haven't seen her and i don't want to break our friendship but… i don't know if things will be the same anymore.” you whisper to her and you see haerin nods, giving you a reassuring smile.

“i think it'll be alright… what about you?”

you think about it, you know minji the best and you understand her the most — even after what happened you know eventually you have to fix things together. “i hope so… i can't stand the idea of leaving her alone, she still need a friend. i still want to be there for her.”

“i understand, it's tough but i want you to know it's going to be okay. you got this.” haerin whispers back and you laugh.

“should i really be asking you about this? because —” before you could even speak haerin butts in.

“can i kiss you?”

you laugh. “o-oh geez, of course. i don't mind.” your eyes turn crescent as you smile at her, feeling giddy. haerin's cheeks turns pink and she takes a quick breath before leaning in.

it was short but pure, sweet, and genuine — when you lips touched hers it felt like some fairytales were real, like nothing was impossible. it was short but amazing, when she pulled away you were almost out of breath from the sight of her bright eyes alone.

“i care about whatever you feel — it doesn't matter if it's not about me. i want to know what you think and hear what you want to say, i want to take part of your life even if it's not much.” haerin whispers, suddenly feeling shy and scared.

your eyes widen and your whole face was lighting up — you were out of words but there were so many inside your head.

haerin is an awe-spiring person, she's wonderfully witty, poised, empowered but shy — she's sweet, skittish, worry-wart but lovely.

she's stubborn but listens well, she's got so many thoughts but only a few words.

you think — haerin is so much more than words, maybe more than anything in the world, she's the combination of all the great things in this world: hope, love, dreams, marshmallow, tomato, frogs, and cats.

there's a new found love blooming.

#female reader #kpop #kpop imagines #newjeans #newjeans imagines #girl group #girlgroup imagines #kim minji #haerin x reader #kang haerin #haerin #newjeans haerin #newjeans minji #kim minji x reader #minji x reader #kpop x female reader

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moonstruckme · 3 months

Note

hello!!

I've seen a couple of your fics coming across my recommended and I love them!! you write amazingly. They get me smiling every time!

I have no idea if your requests are open and I've never requested a fic before so please feel free to ignore this haha

I was wondering if you would want to write a piece about the marauders (preferably poly!marauders but only one is perfect too) where the reader is super stressed about an upcoming test? I have a massive test coming up worth 30% of my grade and I have never done something this big I don't even know where to start studying.

Anyway sorry this is so long, I hope you have an amazing rest of your day/evening and thank you!

Hi lovely, thank you for requesting!! Hope you have an amazing day/evening as well <3

Sirius Black x fem!reader ♡ 637 words

“I don’t know how to do this,” you say, fingers pushing into your temples. “It’s too much.”

“You’ve got it,” Sirius replies, flipping the page in his book. He’s spread out like a cat next to you on the couch, oozing calm. It’s vaguely irritating. “Just look over your notes, babe.”

Look over them? “This is, like, a huge percentage of my grade.” You shake your head, overwhelmed. You feel like you’re caught up in a tornado. Or maybe more like you can see a tornado about to catch you up, and don’t know how to get ready for it. It seems like you might just sit here until you get swept away. “I can’t just memorize all of my notes.”

“So just memorize the important ones.”

“I don’t know which ones are important!” You sound shrill even to your own ears, and Sirius looks over in surprise, the ease sapping from his expression. “I don’t know what’s going to be on the test, and if I don’t prepare well enough I’m going to fail, so I need to figure it out but I don’t know how to tell—”

“Hey, hey, baby.” Sirius sets down his book to take your hand, forcing you to drop the pen you didn’t realize you’ve been tapping anxiously against your leg. The side of your knee is a mishmash of inky lines. “I’m sorry, I wasn’t trying to tease you. I know this test is important.” His touch soothes over your hand, uncurling your fingers and brushing up against your pulse. “Have you never studied for something like this before?”

“No,” you huff. It comes out more like a sigh, your frustration losing steam.

His eyebrows pinch. “I’m sorry,” he says again. Earnest. “We’ll do it together, okay?”

Sirius doesn’t wait for a response, reaching past you to dig in your pencil case. He pulls out a highlighter and bends down to your level, hunched over your papers. “We just scan them for the parts that seem most important, and highlight those. That way we can concentrate on the main points to memorize. That’s what works for me, at least.”

You look over at your boyfriend, perplexed. “Do you study?”

He flashes a grin like a sheep hidden behind a wolf. “Don’t tell. But yes, occasionally the answers don’t just come to me intuitively,” he shrugs, “in which case some effort is required.”

You smile wryly. You can forget how smart Sirius is sometimes. It seems like all he ever does is think up witty remarks and ridiculous nicknames for you.

“So I just…skim?” You eye your stack of notes warily.

“Just skim,” he confirms, stamping a quick kiss on the side of your head. “You’ll remember the main points as you go, and it’ll get easier.”

You nod, rallying your determination and what’s left of your energy. “Okay. Got it.”

Sirius laughs. You turn towards him, and he’s already reaching for your chin, gripping it firmly. “You look like you’re going to war,” he teases. “Perk up, buttercup. I’ll make you some tea. And every lesson you get through earns you a kiss, how about that?”

You tamp down a smile, narrowing your eyes at him. “What kind of kiss? A good one?”

He levels you with a dispassionate look. “They’re all good, babe.”

“Can I get some payment up front?”

Sirius pulls your face toward him, and you close your eyes, expectant. You can feel him closing the distance between you, his nose tickling your cheek. His lips brush yours, and—and that’s it.

You open your eyes to find him grinning fiendishly. He releases his grip on your face, standing.

“That doesn’t count!” you protest.

“It’s a taste,” he promises, going towards the kitchen to make your tea. “Finish highlighting the first lesson, and you’ll get a real one.”

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gojos-thot-patrol · 1 year

Note

🌶️ nsfw HCs for jjk men 🥵 general sexy times~ what are they like in bed?

ooo, IVE BEEN WAITING FOR THIS ONE!!! TURN IT UPPPPP!!!

Now Presenting...

Starring Satoru Gojo, Suguru Geto, Kento Nanami, and Ryomen Sukuna.

Sugru Geto

Cigarettes and feelings keep me Laughing when everything is all fucked up

C O R R U P T I O N K I N K DO YOU HEAR ME?!

He sees himself as dirty and ruined and he needs to see that in you too.

His loves how you look when you’re choking on his cock

He loves it so much he’s gonna take a picture! He’s big on recording you in your most vulnerable moments

Mirror on the ceiling so you can watch him fuck you stupid

I hope you have a degradation kink cause he's going to call you his stupid fucking whore

But hey! At least you’re his stupid fucking whore!

He needs to push your limits. He needs to see how far you’re willing to go for him, and what you're willing to do to get his praise.

Unlike in your daily life, his praise is rare in the bedroom. That’s what makes it so intoxicating when he finally does give it out. You’re still going to have to work for it though.

CONTROVERSIAL TAKE: he hates to be called daddy. Call him literally anything else, but the moment you say “Daddy” he’s over it

Now Sir on the other hand? Sir will always make him act up, use it strategically, lest you get pounded in a dirty bathroom.

He gives me the vibes of someone that would convince you to drop ex or acid then fuck him for a “religious experience.”

IDK maybe that's just me seeing the cult leader in him.

All of that being said, I also think Suguru has mastered the art of aftercare

During the act he’s a monster, but after? Nothing but praise and love. He’s worshiping your body while cleaning you up, cuddling with you for as long as you’ll let him.

You need water? He’s getting it. You want a bath? Say no more he’s running it for you.

He never wants you to think he’s just using you for your body.

Even if he is.

Satoru Gojo

Set my alarm, turn on my charm That's because I'm a good old-fashioned loverboy

My most controversial Gojo take is that he’s actually not all that experienced

This man has spent his entire life either as a child or raising a child he didn’t have a lot of time for romance.

Not only that, but having sex with someone is an inherently vulnerable position to put yourself in. Man’s got too many enemies for that.

BUT that does not mean that he isn't willing to learn for you!

Gojo is above all else adaptable, and his main goal in the bedroom is to get you off. He’s willing to do whatever you need.

Honestly, that’s probably his kink. Overstimulation. He wants to make you feel so good you're delirious, he wants to make you cum so hard you forget anything other than his name.

He is the king of oral. It’s his favorite thing, eating you out through multiple orgrasam until his face is soaked in you. And he’s good at it too. He knows exactly how to make you melt under him.

His dick isn’t thick, but it is long, and weirdly pretty for a cock. He also uses a ring light to take dick pics. Tell me he doesn’t, you can’t.

He’s also very vocal. He likes when you're loud, it’s how he knows he’s doing something right. So, he’s pretty vocal as well, wanting to let you know just how amazing you make him feel

when he's not telling you about how good you feel, he's kissing you. He LOVES kissing you, its like a drug to him.

Gojo struggles a lot with the feeling that people don’t really like him, so he has a praise kink. On both the giving AND receiving end

I also feel like he’s really into lingerie, and has no problems dropping a paycheck on a new set for you.

Definition of “There’s a difference between fucking someone and making love.”

God, I hate that phrase but I'm genuinely not sure how else to get my point across lmao

When ya’ll are just fucking, he tries to play the part of a big tough dom, dirty talk galore, overstimulation to the point of tears, the man is a beast.

But in your quiet moments, when you’re, for lack of a better word, making love, there’s a 63% chance he's going to cry.

He gets overwhelmed by his love for you, and the realization that you love him for him, 6 eyes or not. It gets to him.

And the best part? He’s not even embarrassed by it, because you don’t shame him for it. He’s truly safe with you

Kento Nanami

Hey pretty baby can you feel that heat? You got me twitchin to the edge of my seat

Dare I say daddy kink?

I do, I do dare. Nanami knows the type of person he attracts (riddled with daddy issues) and has decided to play into it.

I feel like Nanami never loses his composure, even in the bedroom. He could be giving you the ride of your LIFE while calmly explaining the stock market to you. It’s part of why teacher Nanami is so appealing to me I’M SORRY-

“Are you paying attention? This is going to be on the test.”

He says as he's skullfucking you into oblivion

Despite his calm composure, he's big on dirty talk…mostly as a way to ask for consent and gauge how you’re doing at the moment. He’s still Nanami

“You like that Princess?” “Beg for me.” “Tell me what you want,” All phrases that pop up commonly in your bedroom

He’s a panty snatcher, there I said it. He’s taking your panties with him when he leaves your place. You can get them back the next time you two get together.

He is prone to taking out his frustration on you in the bedroom when he’s had a bad day.

Not that you're complaining, nothing like his thick cock splitting you open after a rough day, amiright?

Public sex. Nanami loves covertly fucking you, in various ways, and watching you try to keep your composure. Be it him finger fucking you under the table, or reminding you that you have guests downstairs while he rails you in your bedroom, he likes to test your volume control.

In a similar vein, phone sex! He’s away on “Business” a lot, so late nights on the phone with you are basically a necessity for him.

M A R K I N G. You think it’s childish? He doesn’t fucking care he needs EVERYON to know you’re together

Hickies everywhere, dark ones that don’t budge for days, even weeks

Brat tamer. No, I won't explain, look at him.

He’s probably the best dom, even if he is a softer dom. He's going to discuss your hard and soft limits, safe word, and discuss the red yellow green system. Your comfort and safety is his number one priority.

Going hand in hand with that, Nanami has mastered the art of aftercare. Anything you need, he’s got, anything you need him to do, he’s doing. He’s showering you in words of affirmation while trying to rehydrate you.

Also He’s cuddly. He wants you to fall asleep resting on his chest while he traces lazy patterns in your back. It’s his ideal way to go to sleep.

Ryomen Sukuna

My whole existence is flawed You get me closer to God

BESTIE idk how many different ways I can tell you not to go near this man, but let's find out

For one, he’s incredibly selfish, prioritizing his pleasure over yours every time.

That doesn’t mean he doesn’t at least try to get you off though. Nay nay, getting you off is a part of his pleasure. Because it strokes his ego.

Daycraphillia. Be it from pleasure or pain, he loves to see your tear soaked face.

This man is PACKING btw. It hurts at first everytime no matter how ready you are for him. The king of curses has the dick to back up all the shit he talks, you can’t convince me otherwise

He’s got four hands and he’s gonna use them all. Fingers in your pussy, on your tits, in your mouth, in on your ass. You're going to feel like you’re drowning in him.

Degradation. You're a filthy little whore, the only thing you’re good for is being a hole for him to fuck.

Does he actually mean this? I mean…shit, maybe! Depends on where you’re at in the relationship honestly.

He will summon mouths in random places when fucking you. On his palms, above his cock, anywhere. Be prepared to feel a random tongue in random places.

…..breeding kink.

Honestly, I don’t think he’s proud of it. But something in him wants to fuck an heir into more than he wants to breath.

Also, blood and marking kink. These go hand in hand as far as he’s concerned. He will bite you until you bleed with no issue.

He may not truly love you yet but the moment he stuck his dick in you, you became his. Which means no other man can touch you. Hence why he clearly marks you as his.

Aftercare who? He doesn’t know her, you’re lucky if he doesn’t immediately kick you out of the bed when he’s done.

The exception being if you somehow managed to rope him into a “real” relationship. I still don’t think he’d be an aftercare king or anything, but he would at least cuddle with you until you passed out.

Sukuna likes to find your limits, and then push you past them. He needs to see how far you’re willing to go for him, even if that breaks you.

God, this mf is so toxic. Why do I love him?

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lincolndjarin · 9 months

Text

Best Kept Secret

chapter three : the smitten paladin (RE-UPLOAD)

ao3 link ✿ series masterlist ✩ main masterlist ✧

pairing : bodyguard!Din Djarin x afab!princess!reader

rating : 18+ mdni

word count : 4.6k

summary : reader does some reading

warnings, etc. : language, sexual fantasy, masturbation

A/N : i had to change accounts so this is a re-upload of my ongoing fic bks!!

You’re starting to think the planet isn’t the reason you’re so hot all the time.

You had woken up this morning feeling a bit better than you thought you’d be, your stomach is full of butterflies but you're still standing and considering the night you had you’re gonna take that as a win. Elaine and Lysa both seemed to sense that you were back in slightly better spirits and Lysa doesn’t bother to ask as she fetches you a dress that isn’t blue. You want to protest when she emerges from the closet with a simple green gown but you bite your tongue. Maybe he’ll like it.

You don’t care. Why should you care? Why the hell are you already sweating? Nothing has changed. He did one nice thing for you, so you forgive him. But you still don’t care.

Well… you care enough to ask them to leave your hair down, which they do. And you care enough to ask them to leave your face alone. (Save for some thin golden eyeliner.) You dismiss the girls with a thank you and give yourself just a moment alone.

You’re going to have a normal day. Not a great day, and not a good day. Just a normal day. You are going to go to the library today and you’re going to read. And you are going to talk to the Mandalorian. You are going to patch things up. Oh gods, what if he doesn’t want to patch things up? What if he thinks you’re just some unstable, bellyaching princess? Stop caring what he thinks. Normal day. Just go out there before he comes in here.

You take the book he had given you and you tuck it under your arm as you go out to greet him. As expected, he is there, just outside the door, and as expected he doesn’t speak first, so you do it instead.

“Good morning, Mando.”

He takes his time, observing your mood, his visor trained on you. You suddenly feel feverish.

“Morning, princess.” His voice is careful, almost like he’s testing the waters. You don’t know how to tell him you aren’t mad anymore, or that you’re okay now. You’re pretty sure both are true. So you just head towards the library.

“Come on sparkles.” Is all you say as you start walking. The silence isn’t necessarily comfortable but at least it feels bearable. Once there you settle into your familiar positions, you, seated in the reading nook, him, pulling up a chair across from you. You hopelessly want to say something but you don’t want to come off as desperate, and honestly you’re so anxious at this point you’re worried you’ll throw up if you try to speak. So you take out the book, making sure he can see the cover. Hoping he takes it as a peace offering, you pick it up from chapter two, where you’d left off after last night. And that is how you stay for several hours.

You read, flipping through the chapters of what ends up being a pretty corny book. It’s a predictable tale of forbidden love, the daughter of a blacksmith falling in love with a knight, blah blah blah, a little dull but entertaining enough to keep your attention for the most part. So much so that you’re able to completely forget that your every move is being watched.

Almost.

Because you get to chapter six, and suddenly, the book is… raunchier than you expected it to be.

And it’s sweltering in the library out of nowhere and you’re pretty sure you can’t blame Naboo this time.

You’re hyper aware of him now.

That he’s watching you. Well he’s always watching you, always has been, but now you can’t stop thinking about it because you’re sitting here, reading porn, and he’s sitting there, watching you.

You should close the book, take a break, get some water.

But you don’t.

Because suddenly the book is kind of good. For some reason you’re suddenly engrossed by the story of Oskar and Dorthea. That’s what you tell yourself. That you are captivated by the storytelling, not the way Oskar’s large hands are currently clutching Dorthea’s heaving bosom. You wonder if Oskar is wearing gloves when he does it. You should stop reading.

You can’t do this.

But… you have been neglecting certain urges of yours since arriving on Naboo. And now it’s been over three weeks and to say that you’re pent up would be putting it lightly.

So what’s the harm in reading something a little risqué? It’s not like you’re doing anything wrong, after all life as a newlywed wasn't exactly going the way you thought it would, so maybe this would help relieve a little bit of the stress that you’re very obviously suffering from at this point. So you allow yourself to read on, and everything is fine until she starts taking off his armor, because you can see a certain armor wearing nuisance sitting just over the top of your book. You start imagining it before you can stop yourself and the all too familiar heat washes over you.

This is the part where you remind yourself to stop.

Or…

You could indulge, just this once. There’s nothing wrong with that, an innocent little fantasy. It will help you enjoy your book more if you imagine the characters more clearly. And it’s so easy after that, to imagine Oskar the paladin in Beskar, funnily enough he really does remind you of Mando. He’s sarcastic and he’s witty but he is also rather gentle with the blacksmith's daughter when he needs to be.

He’s also quite rough with her when he needs to be.

You can’t help but wonder if Mando is similar to Oskar in that regard as well.

Okay you definitely can’t do this.

Unless of course you’re thinking about Oskar. There’s nothing wrong with that. He isn’t real. You can fantasize about him and it would be perfectly acceptable. You should do that instead. Fantasize about the not real character in your book and not on the very real Mandalorian sitting several feet away from you.

Just for a minute. Just to help relieve some of the tension that has been building in your body for weeks now. This is the smart and healthy thing to do, lest it spiral completely out of control. This is a good thing, this will dissipate the fog that has been clouding your judgment.

So you think about Oskar. Just Oskar. Stare at the pages of your book and think about Oskar. Tall, dark, and handsome Oskar.

He’s probably downright barbaric with it. Probably takes what he wants, he’s such a jackass. You bet he gives it just as hard as he takes it though, that overconfident prick probably loves it when you just fall to pieces for him.

Not you.

Dorthea.

Not him.

Oskar.

Think about Oskar.

Is he vocal? He’s always so quiet but when he does talk it’s like he can’t shut up. You get the sense that he likes feeling smarter than you. Or whoever it is you’re imaging in this scenario. He’d probably be just as rude in the bedroom. Just absolutely wreck you and then call you sweet names and his words would be kind and warm but he would use that condescending tone he uses when he knows he’s winning, and he’s always winning. You hate that he’s always winning, maybe you should come up with some rehearsed comebacks. Or would that be lame? He’d probably see right through that.

Oskar. You’re thinking about Oskar.

For Makers sake think about Oskar.

Oskar probably doesn’t have the patience to undo Dorthea’s complicated dresses. He probably just rips them right off of her, Oskar probably doesn’t even take the time to remove his helmet. For no reason in particular. He probably leaves it on, too consumed by his feral, untamed, need to ravage her. To devour her entirely with his hands, his stupid, pointlessly, gloved hands. He might lift the helmet enough just to bite the fingertips of the gloves to rip them off as swiftly as possible. Or maybe he’d let you- Dorthea , sink her teeth into them, make her remove them.

It’s unbearably hot now, and people sweat when they get hot.

That’s what you tell yourself when you feel a wetness pooling in a place you cannot think about right now lest you tear your dress off right here in front of him in the library to deal with it.

He could push you up against the shelves, no one ever comes in here. He could bend you over the reading nook you were currently sitting atop, or you could just join him in that chair, stare down into his visor and let him know who’s in charge.

Because you hate him. Obviously.

You want to be in charge because you know he’d detest that. You want to watch him melt in your hands, beg you for more. That’s the only reason. To see him reduced to nothing but a man, not this statue of steel and wit that he is constantly portraying. Just a man, you want to be the one thing on this entire stupid planet that makes him nothing but a man.

You definitely aren’t thinking about Oskar right now.

This doesn’t mean anything.

Stars, what has gotten into you today? You need to get laid. That’s gotta be it. Back on Hoth you were a princess without a husband, it was easy to find boys in your colony who would happily bed you whenever you desired. But not here, here you have a husband who won’t bed you, (thank the gods.) and an unbearable bodyguard who you can’t even see the face of so Maker why can’t you stop thinking about him. You could go to the market in the city, probably find a vibrator or something pretty easily. But you’re the princess of a very respected royal family now, you can’t exactly go strolling into a sex shop in broad daylight. And then of course there’s the Mando of it all. You can’t help but wonder what his reaction to that would be, would he follow you into that kind of establishment? He’d have to, right? He’s followed you everywhere else. What would he think if he saw you buying yourself a toy to keep you company? He has to know at this point that Kodo isn’t exactly satisfying your needs. He has to understand that you have needs, most people have needs. Does Mando have needs?

Does he ever think about your needs when he’s satisfying his?

Don’t.

You have to say it to yourself now.

Your face is surely bright red at this point, you consider if that’s something he likes. Does he like how easily riled up you are? How flustered you get at just the thought of him? Okay you were certainly overindulging at this point. You had to stop, there has to be a line and that line certainly is imagining what he might find attractive.

“Why don’t you try sounding it out.” He catches you off guard, unmoving as he speaks.

“What?” Maker, are you panting? Pull yourself together woman.

“I assume you’re stuck on a word, you’ve been on that page for nearly 15 minutes. Try sounding it out.”

Usually this behavior from him is the perfect thing to stop any untoward thoughts. Why isn’t it working? Why do you suddenly wanna shut him up in a completely different way?

“You’re a funny guy, have you considered being a comedian or do you just really like being a glorified babysitter?”

“I really like being a glorified babysitter.” He leans forward to rest his elbows on his knees. You loathe him.

“Lucky you.”

“Lucky me.”

At least things are okay between you two. Things seem okay. This is normal. There’s a relief to be found in knowing that your relationship, (albeit antagonistic) seems to be repaired. That is until he of course has to ruin it by opening his mouth.

“How’s the book?”

Great.

“It’s good. Thank you for returning it to me…”

“Of course.” You hope he’ll drop it but it’s him so of course he doesn’t. “What’s it about?” You can hear the faux innocence practically dripping through the modulator. There’s no way he’s actually doing this.

“I don’t think you’d like it.”

“Why not? You have no idea what I like.”

Okay this has gone from inappropriate to downright intimate. What's his end goal here? You know that he can’t seriously be doing this. Maybe he’s playing some sort of game with you? Maybe he’s playing a game of chicken, if that’s the case then you certainly aren’t going to lose, and let him win? Hell no.

“It might be a little too intense for you.” You raise a single eyebrow, his move.

“Oh really? How so?” He leans back in the chair now. For Makers sake does he have to spread his legs so obscenely wide.

“Isn’t there some kind of Mandalorian vow of celibacy?” You have no idea but you plaster a naive look on your face.

“Nothing in the creed about that, princess.” How does he make the word princess sound so vulgar? Why is there a rush of molten heat through your veins when you find out he isn’t celibate.

This doesn’t mean anything.

“Oh? But I thought you weren’t allowed to take the armor off?” This shouldn’t make you perspire as much as you are. You aren’t doing anything wrong, you’re having a conversation, it’s not like you’re cheating on your husband by having a conversation.

“Just the helmet.” You knew that, of course, but it’s still a shame. You’d love to give his mouth something to do other than taunt you.

You need to get out of this library.

“Oh.” Great quick thinking. Real impressive comeback you moron.

“So?”

“So…?”

“The book, what’s it about?”

Of course he isn’t going to drop this. You should lie, this conversation can escalate very quickly if you’re not careful and considering how close you are to sticking your hand up your dress right here in front of him, you better be careful.

“It’s a cute little love story about a girl and a knight.”

He hums softly like he’s considering something while you consider lobbing the book at his head.

“Sounds charming.” Not a good sign that you can hear the derisive tone through the modulator already. “So what are you stuck on?”

Your eyes meet the page you’d left open while you were daydreaming, you manage to keep a straight face but you’re not exactly sure how you’re gonna ad-lib your way out of this seeing as Dorthea is currently bent over a hay bale in the stables and Oskar is currently “thrusting his pulsing member into her damp maidenhood.” Maker, this book is garbage.

You know what, why not push back? He always manages to tease you into silence or reduce you to a stuttering blushing mess, so why not grab at this chance to get the upper hand? He’s not the only one who can catch people off guard.

“I wasn’t really stuck on anything… I suppose I was just trying to figure out how he fits it all in there?” You hold out the book at arms length and turn it ninety degrees. It isn’t a picture book but you still think it’s a bit funny to furrow your brow and pretend.

It works, he’s silent. Too silent, you worry you’ve gone too far again but after a few beats the modulator crackles to life once more.

“Didn’t realize the book had pictures, I must have missed them.” He crosses his arms and tilts his head ever so slightly.

Dank farrik. Why couldn’t you go one conversation without him dropping some ridiculous bomb that makes you look like an idiot, it’s like he’s dedicating his days to outsmarting you rather than protecting you. More importantly, you need to address the bantha in the room.

“You read this?” You don’t bother hiding the disbelief on your face, he already knows he’s got you so what's the point.

“You’re not the only one who’s bored, princess, when you’re alone, I’m alone with you. One of the many perks of silently standing behind you all the time. Someone had to go clean up the books you dropped, thought I’d give one of them a read.” You can’t believe this.

“So you’ve read The Smitten Paladin? ” The confusion muddling your brain right now is downright overwhelming, worst of all is now you can’t stop thinking about him reading the filth you’ve been enjoying.

“Don’t worry, I won’t tell you how it ends.”

Maker, you want to chuck the book at him so bad right now, but you know it won’t stop his smug tone that fills the air between you. You need to get out, you need to be in your chambers and far, far away from the obnoxious, egotistical, self-righteous Mandalorian. So you stand up and close the book and start walking, of course he’s fluid in the way he matches you, almost like he anticipated your departure.

“Good. I wouldn’t want you to spoil the happy ending.” Is all you can mutter out as you make haste towards your chambers, refusing to look at him the entire way.

This doesn’t mean anything. ✩

You cannot lock your door fast enough. You don’t bother turning on any lamps, you just collapse down on the edge of the bed and hike your dress up, no sense in wasting half an hour trying to get it off, not when there are far more important matters to attend to regarding getting off.

You waste no time shoving your hand down the front of you underwear, you’ve never been so thankful for all of the layers in your gowns because you’re soaked through your panties, you’re fingers are small and nimble so you easily swipe two digits through your folds, scooping up a bit of your wetness, back already arching as you just say fuck it and bury both fingers into your cunt.

The shaky sigh that leaves your lips is downright pornographic. Three weeks of pent up frustration all crashing down on you now as you bring your other hand up to cover your mouth, you start grinding against your palm, haphazardly doing everything in your power to put some friction against your swollen clit. Your hand can’t muffle your moans entirely as you curl your fingers against that spot that makes you sob into your wrist, you bite down onto the meat of your palm just below your thumb but you can’t stop the noises that slip from you as you curl your fingers a bit faster, thrusting them in and out of your drenched hole.

You wish your fingers were thicker, there’s barely any stretch with how small yours are, you can hit all the spots you need to push yourself towards that delectable edge but you can’t help but crave a little more. You don’t even bother trying to stop the inevitable, you’re too far gone at this point. Might as well let your mind wander to what it needs to to finish the job.

After all, it doesn’t mean anything.

How long does he wait outside your door before dismissing himself? With his helmet’s capabilities he could certainly hear what’s going on in here, is he out there right now? Eavesdropping as you fuck your own hand. Is he straining against his flight suit as he stands on the other side of that wall. Acting like he’s there to defend you when in reality he just wants to listen in, give himself to think about later. Or is he just palming himself through his trousers, not wanting to wait.

Realistically he went back to his own chambers the moment you closed the door.

You might be giving yourself a little too much credit but it’s your fantasy so you get to think whatever you need to get you there. Like why is the helmet kind of hot now? Was it always hot or are you just really horny right now? There’s just something so erotic about not being able to see his face, not being able to read his emotions behind the steel facade he puts up. He’s got so many utilities and attachments, it must be hard to get through all the layers. Might be nice if he left most of it on, took off just enough to get the job done. Does he have cuffs? If he’s an ex-bounty hunter he probably has cuffs. You know he has a blaster and a bunch of other weapons you don’t fully understand, you kind of wish someone would ambush you just so you could see him in action. Honestly he’s so terrifying to most people you’re pretty sure you might go your entire life without being attacked. He definitely has cuffs. He could storm in right now, cuff your hands above your head and finish what you started.

His fingers would probably work better than yours. You rock your hips down against your hand now as you can feel yourself slipping just the tiniest bit closer to that edge. You haven’t seen his hands but you can imagine. Even without the gloves just one of his fingers was probably as thick as the two you were working in and out of yourself currently.

Maker, with the gloves on he would probably have to work to get just one finger inside you.

You cum embarrassingly fast at the thought. It actually catches you off guard as you grind your palm against your clit just so and you’re seeing stars, soaking your already drenched panties as you withdraw your hand and collapse in a heap onto the bed, wiping your fingers off on the sheets. (You don’t sleep in this bed anyway so who cares.)

You decide it’s best to ignore anything you thought about in your sex-crazed state. You can’t be held accountable for anything you think of to get yourself across the finish line, you aren’t yourself in those circumstances.

It doesn’t mean anything.

It can’t mean anything.

Minds wander, people think of all sorts of things when they’re blinded by lust. Hell, back home you’d once thought about a medical droid to get you there.

So it doesn’t matter.

And it certainly doesn’t mean anything, you were pent up, you see him all the time, now that you’ve taken care of it, it won’t happen again.

Now that you’ve taken care of that you’re sure you’ll be back to normal, no more day dreaming about unattainable men who you despise. You close your eyes for a few minutes. Chest heaving as you struggle to fully recover from your hasty orgasm.

You give yourself some time to just lay like that, eyes closed, trying to steady your breath, you probably shouldn’t sleep, you haven’t gone to dinner yet but after such a shamefully swift and powerful climax you're positively drained. (Literally and figuratively.) So it won’t kill you to close your eyes for a few minutes.

You don’t know how much time passes but before you even know what’s happening you're standing in front of the mirror, hair disheveled.

You can’t get your dress off, can’t twist your arms behind you to reach the corset laces. You don’t want to wake Elaine or Lysa, you aren’t sure how late it is but you just can’t seem to unlace the bodice by yourself, you’re considering just sleeping in the infernal thing at this point. In your struggle you don’t hear the door open but you watch in the mirror as a familiar silver figure envelops you. How long had he been out there? What the hell was he doing here at this time of night?

“You look like you need a little help there princess.” The familiar crackle of the modulator consumes your senses, watching in the reflection of the mirror you can see the slow and deliberate removal of his gloves as he undoes your bodice, with a practiced agility. Everything is fuzzy. You want so badly to drink in every part of him that he is willing to give to you but it’s almost too much for your brain to comprehend right now. He takes his time with it, like he’s drawing it out. Tenderly pulling every string loose until you can slip out of the gown with ease.

You let it fall to the ground.

He stares at you in your reflection, his large bare hands wrap themselves around your exposed midriff as you’re left only in your undergarments for his eyes to devour. He’s so leisurely about it, not wanting to miss an inch. His fingertips dance across the bare skin of your stomach, it takes every ounce of restraint in you to not arch yourself back against him, you can’t stand the way he makes you want to throw your dignity to the wind. With the two of you facing the mirror like this you can see everything. His thumb begins to stroke the lace of your bra ever so slightly while his other hand skims against your sternum. His touches were so light that if you weren’t having a physical reaction to them you wouldn’t even be truly sure he was touching you at all.

“Did you wear that pretty dress for me, princess?” Maker, you must have died and gone to heaven. His voice, his stupid voice. His stupid gravely voice that left you weak in the knees no matter how often you heard it. “You looked so good, I knew you’d wear green today, so eager to please me…” The baritone of it goes straight to your core, and speaking of straight to your core, his left hand is traveling downwards ever so gradually. “Tell me what it is you want.”

You suppose this is it, moment of truth. He wants to hear what you have to say. You could tell him to fuck off, right here, right now. And honestly you’re positive he would leave if you told him to. You’re married, unhappily. But that doesn’t make this okay. Nothing could make this okay. Except for the way his hands clamp down on your waist just hard enough to make you whine but not hard enough to bruise. Well, that’s enough to cloud your judgment enough to make this okay.

“Tell me.” His palms begin to knead the soft flesh of your abdomen and you swear the sensation of that alone has him groaning and rutting against you from behind.

This view is obscene, watching him grope you. It’s a real spectacle he’s making, holding you up on your shaky knees in front of the floor length mirror so you can see everything he’s doing to your body.

“Use your words, princess. Speak up.” You didn’t think his voice could get more husky; he's practically growling. It’s a good thing he’s supporting you slightly because his words make your knees buckle.

Oh he loves this, loves having you so unraveled by him that you can’t even tell him what you so desperately need from him. You can feel just how much he loves this against your lower back right now.

“I want to hear you say it, sarad'ika. ” And that’s all it takes to break your resolve. Those two words you couldn’t remember no matter how hard you tried, trickling out of his modulator and you’re willing to surrender to the feelings you’ve been fighting for longer than you’d like to admit. So you say it, you admit it out loud for the first time. You admit it to yourself for the first time.

“You. I want you. ”

And you wake up. Still in your dress, still laying on the edge of your bed, still alone.

Fuck.

Well, that might mean something.

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