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httpsryu · 3 months

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muse? pt. 3

pairing: kang haerin x fem newjeans!reader

summary: getting a new member way long after debut and before a comeback isn't really the best idea to haerin

category: enemies-to-lovers (?), kpop idol au

genre: slow burn, angst, and fluff

warnings: a bit frustrating and A LOT of jealousy

a/n: i appreciate all the love muse has gotten so far! tysm everyone :) pt.1 and pt.2 of muse

The second the leader entered the dorm with the rest of the girls behind her, she feels a sense of energy being off at the sight of seeing you sitting on the couch in the living room.

"Is Haerin not keeping you company?" Minji asks, setting down the food and cake on the countertop.

You look up from your phone, startled while wondering what time the others have gotten back. You let out a half smile, shaking your head.

"She did keep me company." You lie.

Great; the first day and you're already lying for the sake of someone who probably and surely doesn't even like you.

"I'll go call her to help set up." Danielle announces with a gentle smile, rushing towards the end of the hall where Haerin's and your room sat.

Minji hums with a nod, looking over at you with concern. She's worried that you're regretting the decision to come over here from SM.

"Y/N! Which hat do you like on me?" Hanni breaks the weird atmosphere, holding up a princess crown and a bear headband with a bright smile, scrunching her nose.

You let out a small giggle at how adorable your member is. Getting up from the couch, you walk to where Hanni is and tilts your head while thinking. Eyes constantly darting back and fourth between the two options before catching the other choices in the bag next to Hanni.

"You're so cute, Y/N!" Hanni scrunches her nose at how cute you look trying to concentrate.

"I think this one seems to match you well." You reach for the bunny ears in the bag, holding it up next to the Vietnamese with a content smile at how well it resembled her.

Hanni smiles, showing her gums as she grabbed it. "If Y/N says it matches me, I'll wear it."

"Minji unnie matches this bear headband." You speak with a small smile, handing it to the oldest who is checking off a few things to make the best welcome party.

The leader feels her ears flushed from you calling her 'unnie', grabbing the headband from you and clearing her throat afterwards. "Thank you, Y/N."

"Oh get up woman!" Hyein exclaims, making Minji choke back on her saliva before turning over to you. "Unnie, pick one out for me too!"

Strange.

You turn to the youngest, letting out a hum as you take a look at the remaining options. Before you could make a choice, Danielle emerges out from the hallway while dragging a lifeless Haerin along with her.

"Did we miss anything?" Danielle asks, noticing how Minji and Hanni have headbands on and seeing you look so cute focusing on what to pick for Hyein.

Hanni can only giggle in response. "My Y/N picked out my headband for me."

Haerin snaps her head at the 'my'.

MY?

The youngest excitedly nods. "And you should've seen how red Mi-"

"-Hyein-ah?" Minji glares, having the youngest exert a low pout on her lips.

The other Australian releases her grip from Haerin before prancing over to you too. "Omg!!! Could you pick one out for me too?"

The cat-eyed female could once again scoff and roll her eyes at how her members are acting right now.

What a joke, really.

The feline-like female can only watch with a bitter taste in her mouth as the other girls are fighting for your attention on helping them choose out a stupid accessory (besides minji who's still a bit flustered and taken aback from you calling her 'unnie').

"Let's start making the desserts and prepare the food!" Danielle suggests, having the others nod in agreement after all of them got assigned a headband from you. "That way, when we're finished eating, we can all have a sweet treat!"

Hanni gently held both of your shoulders from behind, motioning you to sit comfortably at the couch while promising that she'll make something delicious for you.

"Haerin, will you keep Y/N company?" Minji sternly commends.

The introvert could only hum with a small nod. What other option does she have?

Apparently, the cat-eyed female who thought others having you pick out a stupid accessory all of a sudden had a change of heart because she's already making her way to where the bag of party favors all sit in. She quickly turns around to take a peek at you, noticing that you, the person that they're throwing the party for doesn't have an accessory.

Looking down at a few options, the cat-eyed female grabs one.

"It matches you."

You blink a few times at the sight in front of you. Blankly looking at the hand, which is handing you a princess tiara.

Are you hearing her correctly? What happened to the Haerin earlier?

"Are you going to take it or just sit and stare at it?" The female who is barely older than you monotonously asks.

Fighting the urge to roll your eyes all the way to the back of your head, you grab it from her. Getting startled at the touch both yours and hers fingers had. Coughing to get rid of the weird air, you put on the tiara.

"Oh-you have some hair-"

"-Where? Here?"

"-No, a little more to your left-no, it's-I got it." The other leans down to fix the piece of hair standing out from you and putting it behind your ear. She stares at you afterwards, you and her make eye contact prompting her to back away.

Rubbing the back of her neck, she motions over to the bag of party favors. "You're not going to pick one out for me?"

"Huh? Oh, I can if you want me to."

From afar, Hyein is trying her best to hold back Hanni from barging over. "Do something! She's trying to make moves on my Y/N!"

"Haerin does like pretty girls." Danielle could only say, laughing at how Hanni is overreacting.

Haerin awkwardly sits away from you on the other side of the couch, a space evident between you two.

Her hands are laying on her lap as she attempts to concentrate on the screen in front of the both of you. She still can't believe you're 100% on board with debuting as a member of NewJeans.

What could this mean for her though? Could there be possibly a concept change last minute for the comeback all because of a newcomer? How will this affect NewJeans positively? When will ADOR announce to Bunnies that they're debuting a new sixth member after releasing countless of hits.

Haerin can admit you're pretty, yes. She's certainly not blind. However, everything just feels like an irrational choice. She's not happy with Min Hee Jin's decisions this time.

She wants to ask you why you chose to be apart of a rash choice.

"Y/N unnie!" Hyein runs out from the kitchen, scurrying over to sit right next to you, leading you to sit a bit closer to Haerin. "I think you're really cool."

The feline-like female furrows her eyebrows, wondering why the other girls are perfectly fine with this. She furrows her brows even more when seeing your eyes crinkle brightly, a perfect smile that could make anyone caught in your charms.

"Oh, Hyeinnie, I think you're more cooler than me." You gently say back to her.

The big baby shakes her head. "Min Hee Jin told us earlier that you've been a trainee since you were 6, is that true?"

6? Haerin can feel how tense you've gotten at the subject.

"Haha. I was casted at 5 and was wary about the idea. But they kept casting me til I finally gave in." You managed to say without sounding too exhausted about your now previous company, the place you grew up to as home.

Hyein nods, interested in your early life. "I see. I can understand why they kept casting you, you look like a star, Y/N unnie."

Oh please. Haerin wants to snort at the nonsense. A star can dance to a whole choreography without messing up every damn 5 seconds.

"Say that for today." Haerin mumbles under her breath lowly, enough for only her to hear.

"Hyein-ah! Quit bothering Y/N and help us set up the table for dinner!" Hanni yells from the kitchen, resulting in the giant baby to groan loudly in agony before getting up from where she sat.

Haerin laughs at Hyein's antics, shaking her head at the oldest's scolding.

You smile a bit at the feline-like female's laughter. Ever since you've gotten here this morning, it seems like Haerin has been in a weird mood and just doesn't like to smile. At least around you, that is.

"She's cute when she smiles." You "think" to yourself, returning back at the screen.

The female besides you quickly turns to look at you, meeting with your side profile instead.

Did you mean to say that out loud?

Haerin feels the back of her neck burning up at those words, she gulps not wanting to take any meaning into it before slightly shaking her head and going back to look at the same screen you were looking at.

Haerin isn't like the other girls; she won't let a pretty girl get to her like that. She's standing her ground on why you being apart of this team is such a bad idea.

Right? RIGHT!

Just in time, the other members finally got done preparing the food.

"Alright! Time to eat!" Danielle loudly exclaims, walking in carefully with a big pot of wonton soup (the other girls totally didn't search up your favorite foods) for this party.

You immediately stand up from your spot, wanting to rush over to help the Australian.

"Oh no! Sit down Y/N, you're our special princess." Danielle brightly smiles, setting down the pot on a thick coaster. "Rin, could you help Hanni out back in the kitchen?"

Haerin tenses, looking at her best friend with a bothered expression at the idea of having to do stuff FOR you. Prompting the Australian to mouth the word 'please' with her adorable puppy eyes, leaving Haerin to sigh and get off from her seat.

"Y/N-ah! You look so pretty with this crown." Danielle turns her eyes back to you, looking at you with immediate affection.

You smile back at the other, eye-smile crinkling. "Thanks, Jihye unnie."

The older can't help but to gasp again at you calling her 'unnie' with that cute eye-smile. Oh, how she understands what Hanni is talking about now. (you're very real).

"Hey! Bro! Bro! Back off my Y/N!" Hanni glares at her fellow Australian mate, with Haerin clenching her hands tightly around the soda bottles at the word 'my'. "I wont hesitate to throw these cups at you!"

The 05' just purses her lips while shaking her head, grabbing the cups from Hanni.

"Bro, I can hear your voice from the kitchen." Minji tiredly says, emerging out from the kitchen with another big pot of spicy rice cakes and Hyein accompanying her with bowls and plates. "Tone it down a notch before you scare our new member away."

New member. That word makes you happy.

On the other hand, the irritation that Haerin always keeps feeling is creeping at her head.

New member. Oh, how she wishes it wasn't true.

Seeing your new team all enjoy their food, you can't help but to smile gently at them all (not haerin though, she made you mad by not handing you a pair of chopsticks even though you asked).

"You know how we planned to eat desserts after?" Hanni yawns, stretching out her arms. "I'm too full and tired to."

The others nod in agreement.

"Okay. Let's pack them and take them with us to our schedule tomorrow." Minji suggests, darting her eyes between Haerin and you.

The Vietnamese knows the tricks up her friend's sleeves. "Last one to touch their nose has to clean up these dishes and pack the cookies away!"

Everyone INSTANTLY touch their noses, you and Hanni both being the last ones.

"Ahh~ I get to be with my Y/N!" Hanni jumps up in excitement, knowing she lost on purpose (she couldn't help herself)

There it goes again; the way Haerin's jaw clenches at 'my Y/N'.

And for some strange reason, she hates to be around you, yet alone stand near you. And yet, she likes to be near you. Like now, while the others fought over who got to sit next to you during dinner, the cat eyed female silently walks over to you, taking the spot everyone seems to only care about.

But it doesn't make any sense for Haerin and what she's about to do.

"I'll help Y/N clean and put away the cookies." She monotonously says. "After all, she is my roommate."

Minji pleasantly smiles at the feline-resmebling female, nodding. "Great, that works out then."

"Wait! No!" Hanni argues, standing up from the ground with her hands in fists. "I lost though?"

Hyein yawns, stretching out her arms. "Just let Haerin do it, it makes sense anyways. Aren't you tired anyways?"

"Yeah. Bro." Minji teases, sticking out her tongue at the younger.

Hanni dramatically "fumes", her nostrils flaring in anger. "Dani, hold me back before I do something regretful."

"Let's start cleaning up before something breaks like last time." Haerin gets up, collecting the pile of plates.

You blink, processing what your member just said. Break? Last time?

"We don't have all night." The other said from where she's standing, peering behind her shoulder to look back at you with an annoyed expression.

You can't help but to silently sigh, grabbing the rest of the plates and cups and shortly following the cat eyed girl into the kitchen.

"Just leave them on the counter." Haerin shortly says, turning the sink on.

You shake your head. "We're supposed to be working together?"

"Y/N! Haerin! We're going to get ready for bed now." Hanni yells from the other room.

"Don't forget! We have to wake up at 5 today for the reshoot!" Minji also yells.

Getting up at 5AM to do a reshoot on the concept photos rubbed Haerin in the wrong way. Why does she have to suffer her precious sleep for a stranger?

You notice how loud Haerin has gotten when it comes to the dishes all floating in the sink, causing all sorts of clatters and ruckus.

"Everything okay over there?" You ask, coming over to help her with drying the dishes.

Haerin tenses up, feeling anger creep up her neck. "Just back off, okay? I got this."

"I just wanted to help you?"

The feline-like female scoffs, inhaling and exhaling deeply. "I don't need your help."

"What's your problem?" You fume, looking at the plate in the other's hand.

Haerin shrugs, rinsing off the plate and placing it aside for her to dry later with a wipe cloth.

"Oh. I get it. You're still mad that I messed up during today's practice."

Haerin rolls her eyes, knowing you at least got one thing right today and it was the fact that yes, you did mess up and yes, Haerin did get upset about it. She is not going to sit here and watch you jeopardize her career that she's worked so HARD for. No, Haerin was not going to let that happen.

"Pack the cookies up." She unemotionally says, continuing to rinse the remaining plates trying to not let her anger take the best of her.

Not wanting to pick a fight, you obliged and went over to where the tray of cookies sat on the kitchen's island. Opening the container sitting besides them, you placed the heart-shaped cookies into it with a soft smile at how thankful you are for the members.

"Try not to screw it up for the rest of us during the reshoot, yeah?" Haerin dries the last plate up and places them in the cabinet. "I'm getting ready for bed, close the lights out after."

What the hell was that about?

Most importantly, what the fuck is up Haerin's ass for her to be so mean and rude all the time.

"I should've never left SM..." You couldn't help but to quietly mumble under your breath, regrets are finally sinking in to you.

"I wonder how Y/N unnie is going to look in the outfits." Hyein jumps up in excitement upon arriving to yours, Minji's and Danielle's dressing room.

Hanni nods in agreement. "I still can't believe they put me with you two and not them."

"Excuse me?" The youngest whips her head in instant speed, looking offended. "It's bad enough I have to share a room with you, you think I want to paired up with you, Hanni unnie?"

Haerin sighs, knocking on the door of the dressing room.

"Coming!" Danielle says from the other side, opening the door slightly and letting out a cute noise before widening the door to let her members in. "You guys look so good!"

Haerin smiles softly in response, linking her arm with Australian.

"Where's my Y/Nnnie?" Hanni walks in, scanning the room before taking a seat down on the couch.

Not that word again.

"She left real quick to get a drink with Minji unnie." Danielle replies, dragging Haerin with her to sit down on the couch in the dressing room. "But omg guys! She looks super pretty. Like she was already pretty when she first arrived, right? But after her hair got done, her makeup and her fit of clothing, AHH she looks amazing!"

The Vietnamese smirks, looking at the other Aussie. "Sounds like Jihye has a crush?"

"What? No." Danielle flat out denies.

However, Haerin stares at her best friend, confused as to why her face is suddenly all flushed bright pink.

"You sure?" Hyein asks, wondering about the actual truth. "Because if you do, you have two other girls fighting for her attention."

Danielle gasps, covering her mouth. "Omg, whoo?"

"Me!" Hanni retorts, rolling her eyes.

"And Minji unnie."

Haerin cannot believe it. She really absolutely can't.

'What are they on about?' Haerin cannot help but to think to herself.

"Whether you guys have a crush or not, we're a team so nothing is going to happen anyways." Haerin breaks the slight argue, unlocking her phone to interact with 'Bunnies'.

"Okay, whatever." Hanni replies, rolling her eyes again at the younger's 'nerd' talk.

A knock on the door leads the other four girls startled, wondering who it is.

"Hey Dani, we're back." Minji announces from outside.

Danielle quickly fixes her hair, releasing her arm from her best friend's, she gets up with a slight prance. Clearing her throat before opening the door.

"You guys took so long, I was starting to miss you." She frowns with a pout, earning a small giggle from you.

Haerin turns her head at the sound from you, she feels like she suddenly can't breathe at your appearance.

Dani was right.

"Y/N unnie! You look so pretty!" Hyein jumps up, darting towards you, Minji and Danielle.

Seeing Hyein, you smile and wave at her. Darting your eyes to the other two members sitting on the couch, Hanni waves back with a wink while Haerin stares at you before looking back down at her phone.

You conclude that the member is an iPad baby.

"Y/N, this bow matches you so well!" Danielle said, for what seems like the 6th time today.

She tries to look occupied with her phone but her eyes are constantly staring down at the way Minji's arms is linked with yours and how Danielle is fixing the cute bow in your hair.

"Are you excited for the concept photos, unnie?" Hyein asks, leaving you wide-eyes at the sudden question.

You start to walk, to take a seat and everyone follows you, wanting to know your answer. Most importantly, they want to know how you feel about being apart of the team, on the second day.

Something naturally must be pulling you close to Haerin, because somehow, sitting besides her just feels right, even if the both of you haven't come to terms yet with one another.

Haerin feels her body tense at the scent coming from you; she was always weak for pretty girls who smell good. God, the universe is starting to curse her, this has to be karma, right?

The cat-eyed female doesn't know if it's because of the way your hair is beautifully styled in waves; kind of similar to Minji's hair, or if it's because your eye makeup seems to accentuate your already natural features or if it could be the cute elf ears added to you for the concept. Something about you makes Haerin have a weird burning and itchy sensation in the back of her throat and it pisses her off.

"I am excited." You can't help but to feel grateful for how welcoming everyone, well mostly, are to you. "You all have been so welcoming, it feels like I've been here since day one, thank you all."

The Wasian female giggles, screaming as she squeezes your cheeks. "AHH, Y/N, you are SOO CUTE!"

"After we do solo shoots and group shots, we'll be in pairs." Minji announces, taking the piece of paper she was handed earlier in the morning from her coat pocket.

Her eyes read the pairs, a small little smirk is tugging on her lips. "Hanni and Jihye are paired up, Y/N and Haerin are paired up, and Hyeinnie and I are paired up."

The Aussie line sighs, relieved that they're partners but upset at how Haerin manages to be SO lucky to get paired up with you.

Haerin cannot help but to feel sort of smug and nervous irritated knowing that she's yet paired up with you again.

Everyone watches you as you pose in the water, holding a white rose in your mouth as you look over at the camera with a specific look in your eyes.

"She's a natural.." Minji couldn't take her eyes off of you and at how you being in front of the camera looks like such an every day thing to you.

Haerin understands now. She understands why SM kept casting you; you do have that star quality in you, you were born to be an idol. She gets it.

Just how much did Min Hee Jin went through lengths to snatch you from the basements of SM.

"You two are definitely going to kill this couple shoot." Danielle encourages her best friend, with a small 'fighting' symbol made with her fist. "I'm positive you two will lead one another well during the shoots."

Couple shoot?

"Good! Y/N-shi, each photo is coming out very well!" The photographer praises you, making you feel red about it which earns an orchestra of 'awes' from your members.

Even Haerin couldn't help but to let out a small smile at it.

Wait, what? Did Haerin just smile at you?

Why does the smile from her face makes you feel even more shy?

"She's all red from the water but somehow it makes the shots look even better." The director says to his assistant, who agrees with a fast nod. "Fans will love her, for sure."

Is he right? Would 'Bunnies' love you?

"Okay Y/N-shi, you're all set!" The upperman in the industry says with a proud smile, looking at you like you're his own daughter. "After Danielle-shi and Hanni-shi, we'll get your shoots with Haerin-shi."

Haerin feels her breath hitch at the thought of doing a couple shoot with you.

"Haerin-ah, go over to the dressing room with the stylists to get prepared." Minji places her hand on the feline female, indicating her to follow the two hair and makeup stylists. "Y/N will be with you shortly."

The younger nods with a half-smile, peering over to where the stylists wait for you and her. She gives another smile to the oldest member before walking off to the pretty unnies, hehe.

"Thank you! You've all worked hard." You bow to the staff and director, getting out of the water as you quickly scurry over to where your members were standing.

"Y/N! You did so good out there, oh my god!" Hanni wraps a towel around you to stop you from shivering.

Minji agrees, nodding continuously with a pretty smile. "You were really pretty, Y/N."

"You really know how to set a mood for the pictures." Danielle can't help but to compliment you, making sure her eyes meet yours.

Hyein jumps up and tackles you. "Unnie, you did amazing!"

"Hyeinnie, you're going to get wet!" You warn the girl with concern, but ultimately, you still hugged her back.

"Haerin already went over with her stylists to the dressing room to start getting ready for the pairing shoot." Minji informs you. "Just follow with your stylists and you'll meet with Haerin."

You hold the towel around your shoulders, nodding at the oldest's words. "Thank you, Minji unnie."

The leader widens her eyes again at 'unnie', but she manages to calm herself down, ignoring the way her ears are burning up. "Of course, Y/N."

The youngest snorts at the oldest, earning a small smack on the back from Minji. "OW!"

Pt. 3 IS UP! thank you all for the love and support on muse, it's making me happy and excited to keep writing the mini series :) i'm SOOO SORRY for how late it is; been kind of going through it 😭😭

taglist: @ilovekimminji , @justme-idle , @kyuusberry , @masuowo , @iraa567 , @shycreationdreamland , @idunnofr , @imahybridicannotbekilled , @twicesserafim, @awkwardtoafault

#kpop x reader #new jeans x reader #kpop imagines #new jeans imagines #haerin x reader #kang haerin x reader

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gremlingottoosilly · 4 months

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imagine reader being Monster!Königs pet and him letting her follow him around during his daily tasks and all of a sudden she sees an old friend or family member from before monsters took over.

she hasn’t seen them in so long and gets so excited to see a familiar face. she tries to run towards them but because König keeps her on a leash she can’t.

he gets so confused as to why she cares about this random person so much. isn’t he all she needs?? why must she keep trying to escape?? only she’s not, she just wants to talk to her old friend and gets really sad and depressed when he doesn’t let her :((

(love your writing btw:)

I once tried to walk a very curious and very fat cat on a leash because my previous vet is a weird creature, and my cat was literally an unmovable fortress once he saw something he wanted to check. If anything, his fat ass was dragging me on a leash. So...Konig with a properly broken wifey. You don't give him a fuss when he forces you into clothes that barely covering anything - he is showing off your swollen tummy and round breasts, filled with milk, your nipples leaking constantly because the pressure of the eggs in your womb is making you dizzy and dumb. You're docile, obedient, you lay on his lap like a good girl and don't wander off when he is nice enough to show you around the base, He likes going on walks with you - as a very active monster, he still forces his pace to be a bit slower so your pregnant body could keep up, even though it's a sign of weakness from him. But..you stopped in your tracks, completely. He doesn't understand what happened - did you got injured?? On his watch?? Did someone attacked, also on his watch?? He is honestly disappointed when he saw another squishy human, trying to get to you out of the leash of their own. You better lie about your closeness to them - if you dare to say that they are your best friend or even someone bigger, Konig is fully getting you in his hold and forces you to get out of the person's range. You better lie about them really being a distant family relative - not like your monster husband cares about such dumb things as human relationships, but at least you could expect to get like...5 minutes of

#cod #konig x reader #konig #monster!konig

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netherfeildren · 7 months

Text

Pink : Part III : Two

Series Masterlist : Part I : Part II

Pairing: Joel Miller x F!Reader

Content Warnings: Heavy angst; DD/lg dynamics; Dom/sub undertones; Daddy Kink; Jealousy; Unprotected Sex; Creampie; Inappropriate shaving; Squirting; Belly bulge; Dirty talk; Orgasm delay/denial; Overstimulation; Face slapping; Spanking; Light degradation; Rough sex; Breeding kink; Divorce; Not safe to read if triggered by pregnancy; Use of misogynistic language; Discussions of mental and emotional abuse; Cliffhanger

A/N: All tags have been updated.

Word Count: 12.7K

Rating: Explicit 18+

Read on AO3

Ko-fi

3. Two

“You know that feeling of… of realizing you’re a good person? It’s like– yes, I know objectively that I probably am. That I try to be kind, I try to do things that are good and right, but you know those strangely self perceptive moments where another person makes you – forces you – to realize you’re good? And it brings your whole life, your whole self into clarity, and it’s like – I am good, and I deserve good things. I am good.

But he treated me so badly, for so long. He took away pieces of me, he took away that awareness of goodness. And how could I not believe him, when he constantly told me and showed me that I deserved so little, when it was what I accepted for myself? Constantly waiting for him to turn into a man he never was, never had been and never would be. I accepted those things for myself, I let them happen. Maybe I was weak or stupid or naive or all of them combined. Maybe I was just a girl. But I thought it was hope at the time. I thought I was being hopeful and good, and now I realize that was no true form of goodness. It was only the version of good he needed me to be, a subservient and silent type of goodness.”

“And you know, I had a neighbor who– her husband died last year at Christmas, and it was so sad. They were older, always together, it was… it has nothing to do with this, but I don’t know. It was like when a tragedy is soft and quiet, and it just folds into the rest of life unheeded. Such a strange thing for someone on the outside looking in. I lived next door to them, and I’d see them all the time living their lives together, and I barely knew them, but suddenly he was gone, and I was conscious of the fact that she was over there alone all the time now. Without him. When before he’d always been there. I don’t know what I'm trying to say. It’s just that it didn't happen to me, it affected me in no way, and yet, I felt her loss keenly. Afterwards, I helped her with her cat, an old skinny thing, Jazz. She started going out of town a lot after her husband died, getting out and away, you know, that sort of thing. And I’d cat sit for her, and he was so sweet. But he was old too, and a few months later, he died also. And I remember the week he was going to pass she’d texted me and said he’d go soon, and I told her I was praying for him, thinking of the both of them. I don’t even pray, but I needed to tell her I was with her in some way. And it was nothing, a few nights going over there to feed the old boy, a few text messages. It was the absolute bare minimum I could do, but a few weeks after the cat died, she wrote me the loveliest note. She told me that she appreciated me, that she thought of how kind I’d been during those days, when I’d told her I was thinking of them. She told me that I was a good person, and that she hoped my kindness was returned to me many times over.

And I’d forgotten, you see, I'd forgotten that I was good. That I had a capacity for goodness within me, and that I deserved to be reminded of it, like all soft creatures are. We all need reassurance and a kind word sometimes, and I’d forgotten that about myself.” You glance up at his eyes, the most tender look held in them. “Do you know what I mean, Joel?” You ask, voice very small, shy and afraid, for one moment, that he won’t understand you.

But he pets your hair, cradles your cheek, “Yeah, honey. I think I do know.”

It’s a terrifying ordeal, the way the two of you fold into each other in the weeks after that first night. And yet, unstoppable. You do try, and you’re sure he does, as well. The first few days, trying to stay away, not answering his calls, no texts because he says his fingers are too big, and he can’t work those tiny fuckin’ buttons, forcing yourself not to run back over there into his arms and his bed. But then he’s calling and calling and calling, begging, making it his turn to show up at your doorstep in the middle of the night, saying all the right things like, I haven’t been sleeping, and I need to see you, and I’m suffering, I’m suffering without you, touching you in all the right ways that should be wrong but aren’t. All baby, I hurt when I’m not inside this sweet pussy. He says you make him weak, and you tell him that the only weak thing here is you, and you don’t make it much of a struggle for him when you let him in your home, in your cunt, when all you can say is I miss you, I miss you, your cock, your hands, I can’t stop thinking about you. The two of you are one and the same in all the ways it counts. And he’s not your father-in-law anymore, a chameleon now in the form of the only man who’s ever understood you, wanted you, seen you as more, as a complexity.

He makes you wonder how you could have ever thought of yourself as anything like sexless when all he makes you is hungry and desperate and wet. Fucking everywhere you can, as often as you can, never being very careful, pulling out and counting your cycle and starting out with a condom but ripping it off halfway through because I just have to feel you – irresponsible bullshit. Not having your head screwed on tightly enough to even really care. He has you on his living room floor one afternoon, whole day gone away on his cock, and the two of you lay there for hours afterwards, bare limbs wrapped around each other, soft, wet cock tucked safely inside of you where he says it belongs. “How could you have not been angry?” You ask him because you can’t help yourself. Because you want him to teach you to be wise now that he’s shown you how to be good. “That he was kept from you? That you missed an entire lifetime of being a father? I never once saw you furious or resentful. How did you do it?”

“Don’t know,” he sighs. “Dunno… I– It was, kind of, the worst thing anyone’s ever done to me, truth be told, but I didn’t have a chance to compute, to sit in any sort of anger. He was right there all of a sudden, too full of anger to leave any left over for me, and he needed me so much. He needs me so much.” And you know he’s right, and there should be guilt now, gnawing at you, but there is really only jealousy. “And he– he…” A swallow, like you can read his mind, you know what he’ll say, already nodding. “And he hates me,” he whispers into the quiet of this lovely home he’s made for himself, his words mixing with the butter yellow ray of sunshine the two of you are lying in, slanting in through the big bay window. “He hates me, hates who I am. That it’s me he found when he came lookin’.” You have to cry for him then, maybe even for the both of them, maybe even for all three of you.

“Yes,” you choke, so full of sadness for the tragedy of it all. You can’t comfort him with a denial for you’re not a liar here with him. Protection like that isn’t necessary.

“Don’t cry, sweetheart.” He hugs you so tightly, “There’s no reason to cry.”

“I can’t help it,” And return the words he’d given you once when you’d so badly needed a kindness, “You deserve more.”

He’s quiet for a long time after that, and you know him well enough now that you can hear the gears of his mind working and turning, and that makes you even sadder, perhaps, the greatest tragedy of all, this knowing, and eventually he says: “And yet, he is the son I have.” And at the end of it all, you think you are all only yourselves, and nothing can really be done about that.

And you say you want to be wise like him, that it’s your next lesson, so perhaps you should hold your tongue instead of saying: “He only just got you back, and I’m taking you away from him again. Because that’s what I want – I want to take you away and keep you only for myself. I want you to be only mine and that makes me bad. I’m bad.” Your first lesson quashed beneath the fist of your greed for a man who isn’t for you, and who you shouldn’t want, and it’s wrong and maybe even sinful or disgusting or any and all the things that are always bad. None of that matters. He’s turned you into a real person now, none of the rest of it matters.

But he understands, because of course he does, because he always has. He grips your jaw in his hands, large, strong hands, hands made for taking care of things, and tells you, not so wise seeming anymore: “Sometimes I look at myself, and it’s like I'm two feet tall. Why didn’t I meet you sooner? First? How could I have been such a coward to not go out there and search for you? I should have known you were out there, I should have sensed it. How can a man be jealous of his own son?” He turns you over then, cock hard and thrusting again, kisses you full on the mouth, and it tastes like ownership, and says, “You could never be bad. No matter what you did. You’re only ever good. Haven’t I taught you that?”

“Joel, there’s someone at the door,” peeking into the restroom where he’s just stepped out of the shower, wet and steaming, shaking his head out like a dog, towel covering all the fun bits. He’d just had you too many times already, and still, you want more. You’re made of nothing but greed now; he’s taught you how to be good, but he’s also taught you how to be greedy. You’d been strewn across his couch, eating chips and wearing his clothes and leaking his come and waiting for him to finish in the shower and come out to make dinner. He was doing steaks on the grill and baked potatoes with all the fixings and roasted vegetables, and he’d even gotten a pie and ice cream, but he said he wasn’t telling you what the flavor was, only that it was your favorite, and you can’t think how he’d know you love rhubarb, but if that’s what he’s gotten, you were going to let him do anything to you. Literally anything he wanted. Not that you didn’t already… but still, it’s the sentiment that counts, you think. He’d also said you weren’t allowed to shower, that the rule tonight was that you weren’t allowed to wash him off, and you really didn’t mind that so much. So there you were, after he’d put on Stepmom for you, and you were just thinking that Julia Roberts was surely the most beautiful woman who’d ever been born, when someone had knocked on the door, a rhythmic, friendly: tap, tap, tap, that had your heart dropping down into your stomach, and you scurrying into the master bath to frantically tell him that someone is here while you’re here wearing him all over and inside of you and what are you going to do now? He gives you a calm smile, running the towel over his wet head, giving you an eyeful of the fun bits now, and you try and not peek, you really do, but it’s really just the most exciting part on him, you can’t help yourself. His smile turns knowing, that look in his eye, “S’alright, sweetheart. Don’t fret, I’ll get it.”

“But–” you try and protest, maybe he should just pretend not to be home. What if it’s– you can’t even think of it. But then no, he’d not come here. He hates coming to this house, the proof of everything he wasn’t all in his face like this was humiliating for your ex-husband.

His smile remains, but his eyes go a little stern, “No worryin’, I’ll take care of it.” He tugs on his jeans, the man literally never wears underwear, slut, and tugs on a shirt, pressing a kiss to your forehead as he passes you, hand dragging over your belly, smelling of soap and Joel and want, want, want. You follow him on tip toes down the hall, pausing at the mouth of the living room, chewing on your lip and your fingers, about to spit your heart out with nerves as he pulls the door open.

“Hi, Joel, honey. How’s it goin’?” Pretty, bubbly, overly friendly voice you were definitely not expecting. You take a small step forward, the mouth of the hall slightly to the left of the front door so that you can see her without her seeing you, watch his profile as he talks to her. Edie, he says, and that dishwasher givin’ you trouble again, and laughs at her reply, the sound of their conversation going out of your ears as you watch him, head falling sideways on your neck a little bit, the way he laughs at whatever the woman that’s come knocking on the door of his home all friendly and comfortable to interrupt his time with you is saying, loud, bellyfull, one arm braced against the doorframe so that you can see her eyes flit every few seconds to the thick bulge of muscle there. Your face goes hot, your insides green and bitter, but he’s laughing just handsomely enough that you know it’s not real. You know his real laugh, and it isn’t this one. The woman leans forward, blonde hair and big boobs and batting lashes, but Joel shifts backwards subtly, keeping a respectful distance, and your pulse throbs at the backs of your knees and the pit of your stomach. She likes him, she’s here because she likes him, asking him to look at her dishwasher or something, yeah, sure, sure that’s the only thing she wants looked at.

“I’ll come take a look at it tomorrow. How ‘bout that? I’m sure it’ll be another quick fix like last time, but you should probably think about just replacin’ the thing at this point,'' he tells her.

“Oh, can’t you now, Joel?” She pouts, “It’s just that–”

“I’m tied up tonight, Edie,” he cuts her off, an indulgent, too charming smile on his face, and oh, it pisses you off, that smile. You turn on your heel, stomping down the hall back to his bedroom. Huffing, gnashing your teeth. The sight of him with another woman, a more appropriate woman because of course she is, it makes you sick, angry, something terrible, so, so jealous your bones itch beneath the surface of your skin. It makes you small and slanted again, wrong place, wrong time, wrong girl. Not for him, never for him, and it’s so unfair, and he is so– so… Smiling at her like that, using that tone of voice, propping up his stupid huge arm like that so that his muscle’s all defined and put on display, and you hate him and the way he makes you feel and how much you want and need him. On the verge of tears or screaming or vomiting you scramble around his room, trying to collect your clothes and your strewn panties and where the fuck is your bra and your other shoe?

“What’re you doin’?” Comes his soft, steady voice a moment later. Entirely too even for the way you feel right now. You want to hiss at him or bite him or do something entirely uncivilized.

“I have to go home.”

“Why?”

“I have something to do. I forgot.”

“Something, what? What do you have to do?” But you ignore him, rifling through the strewn clothes on the armchair in the corner – where the hell is your goddamn bra? “Look at me–” he barks, now having stepped further into the bedroom.

“Oh, fuck off,” and there’s a part of you that knows that you’re being irrational, that he’s done nothing wrong, but you feel so provoked suddenly. In need of a fight or a thrashing or something, something to make this terrible feeling poisoning you on the inside go away.

“Watch your mouth, little girl,” and his voice is so calm and so quiet and so scary. It makes you lock up one second, spin around the next to spit and hiss at him like an angry cat. You will not watch your mouth. “She wants you.” You almost stomp your foot like a child throwing a fit, but he’s entirely still and silent, taking you in with the most unfathomable of looks. “Do you know that?” And this time you do stomp your foot. “Do you want her back?”

He blinks once, and then like a lightbulb turning on, even though you’re obvious as daylight, “You’re jealous.”

“Do you want her back?” You ask again, real tears in your voice this time.

And his gaze goes soft and tender and entirely understanding, “Never.” He shakes his head.

“She looked like a fucking idiot.” You pout, childish – how will he ever want you when you act like this?

“I only want you.” But you don’t believe him. How could you? When there’s nowhere for this to go. When he deserves so much more than the options afforded to him here between the two of you. And you want to fight with him because there’s nothing to be done, no choices, no other recourse, and it’s not his fault and there’s no one to blame and no outlet for this terrible anger inside of you. You feel like you’re choking on it, being swallowed whole, that head breaking water feeling reversed so that now you’re deep at the bottom of the well of your own wanting. You turn back to the fruitless search for your bra. He’s hidden it from you, you’re sure, some evil old man ploy to keep you here trapped and braless with him. “Did you hear me? I only want you,” he says again, voice closer now.

And you think you’re mumbling or crying, something hysterical bubbling up inside of you, I have to go, I have to go, your movements manic and jerking. He grips your arm, jerking you around into his chest, face flushed with anger now, but voice still even, “You’re not fucking listening to me. I only want you,” and yanks your hand to feel the hard cock trapped beneath the confines of his jeans. This is only for you. But it’s not, not in any real way, not in a way that would let you keep him and that realization sets something off inside of you. You thrash in his hold, let me go, let me go, trying to kick him in the shins while he tries to wrap his arms around your struggling form, that rumbling chant constant in your ear, I only want you, I only want you, I am only for you. It feels like he’s burrowing beneath your skin, unzipping you, splaying your insides wide open for his gaze, taking hold of your bones, a puppet on his string. You manage to yank your arm out from beneath his grip and unthinking, a buzzing so high pitched it makes you dizzy and nauseous sounding in your ears, you slap him in the face. Not very hard, maybe, but enough that you hear the crack of your palm meeting the grizzled scruff of his cheek. The sound like a bone snapping, setting off something inside both of you even worse, more frenzied than before. He groans deep in his chest, big hand fisting in your hair and jerking it back so hard you yelp in pain. “Hit me again, do it again. I want you any way I can have you, even angry. Do it again,” he goads you on, but that mindless hand is fisted in his shirtfront now, pulling you closer to him, tear stained mouth seeking his, opening to receive his filthy kiss.

“I’m sorry,” you cry, but all he says is that he only wants you, again and again, grips you harder, makes it hurt more, and you whine and whimper and scratch and bite, a wild thing, the two of you caught up in some strange struggle of push and pull and want and fight. You can feel the hard length of his cock grinding against your belly, searching for something hot and wet to fuck into, and you hitch your knee around his hip, open yourself to him, listen to his groan in your ear, throaty and full.

“You just need a little remindin’? Don’t you, huh?” He tugs your head back, none too gentle, to look at your tear slicked face, his eyes on fire, almost a little manic. He spins you away from him, shoving you towards the bed, ignoring your whines and protests, shut up and bend over, pushing you over the edge of the bed and crouching down behind you. “You just need a little remindin’ of how to be a good girl. I know that’s all this fightin’ is. Right, baby?” No, you try and struggle, kicking your leg out uselessly to the side, but he pins you with your arms back behind you at the small of your waist, pushing his shirt up your back to expose the naked curve of your ass and the pussy you know he’ll find humiliatingly wet and hungry for him. “Just need remindin’ of how to be a good girl for me, right?” His fingers slide down to the apex of your thighs, finding you dripping and swollen from his earlier use and your current desire, all twisted up and compounded ten fold with your jealousy.

“So wet already for me, baby,” he coos at you.

And oh, he’s so annoying, and you’re so embarrassing and weak for him. “Shut up, old man,” you whine. A single finger enters you slowly, rubbing up against all the terribly sensitive and swollen places inside of you, then pulls his wet fingers from you to deliver a single stinging swat to the curve of your ass, sticky wet imprint of yourself left behind.

“Yeah, and this old man fucks you better than anyone else,” he slips his fingers gently back inside of you, “Remember that you little whore,” he says even more gently. The words make you twist and writhe, a terrible flush of lust burning through you. He feels you tighten around his fingers, groans appreciatively. “Oh, you like that, don’t you?” He twists his fingers inside of you, pressing hard against something that makes you feel like you’re about to wet yourself. You cry out, squeezing your eyes shut and shaking your head, refusing to answer. “No lyin’. You daddy’s little whore?”

“Nuh uh,” you shake your head, your hips moving with the rhythm of his thrusting fingers. He brushes his thumb slowly over your pulsing clit, plays you like a game.

“No?” His voice is so soft, so teasing.

“I’m not your whore–”

“You’re not? Then what are you, baby? Tell me.”

You’re right there, so close, about to come on his fingers. “I'm your baby. I'm your baby. I’m yours– I belong to you, daddy.” He pulls his fingers from your cunt, hand coming to grip your ass cheek so hard it hurts, fingernails digging into your soft skin, dragging down the smooth surface. You can hear him panting behind you, shaking, trying to control himself. He makes a gruff, rough sound in his throat, gentles his grip on you.

“You don’t think I don’t get fucking jealous?” he spits when he’s finally managed to control himself. “You think I don't think about you with my own son and want to die? That he got to have you in a way I never will, and even worse, wasted you? You don’t think it makes me sick with envy?” He brings his fingers back to play in your wet folds, feels the slick drip of you, thrums at your clit, opening you to him with a hand on your cheek and licking you from clit to asshole. Running the flat expanse of his tongue over the length of your sex and then sucking hard at the apex of nerves, hard enough that you can’t tell if it hurts or feels good or a little bit of both. He’s got you bent over the end of his bed facing the dresser so that you have a clear view of the two of you in the mirror above it. And the sight of him, massive frame crouched down behind you, huge and hulking, face buried in your cunt from behind, the curved slope of his nose, the long, thick lashes, eyes closed like he’s enjoying himself more than he’s ever enjoyed anything else in his entire life as he licks your ass and sucks on your clit. He pulls back, and you watch, almost in slow motion, as he shocks you by swatting your entire sex with his big hand, and then immediately brings his face back to lick and kiss your smarting skin. “But he didn’t fuck you the way you needed to be fucked,” he continues. “And I do. He didn’t understand you, but I do. At least I have that.” It sounds like he’s consoling himself, and you can’t help but find consolation in it as well. Your eyes move up to your own reflection, sweat slicked and tear stained, eyes glassy, wet fingers inside of your mouth because you need something to chew on to stand the terrible throbbing in your cunt on the verge of coming. He licks you again, presses his tongue to your asshole. “Did you ever get wet for him like this?” He pulls back, runs the pads of his fingers over your clit in fast, hard up and down motions, makes it feel so good it hurts, you’re right there, you’re right there, pulls away. “Were you ever desperate for him like this? Cunt all drippy and swollen and pathetic for him like you are for me, my sweet baby?”

Never, daddy. Never. Only you. You can’t lie to him when he’s got his tongue inside of you, it’s just not possible. Only me. Only mine. You press up on your tippy toes, roll back down onto the balls of your feet, “Yeah, rub that sweet pussy all over daddy’s face,” he mumbles into your skin, slurps at you. He wraps his lips around your clit once more, sucks and licks and sucks again, and your cunt goes so, so tight, I’m gonna come, I’m gonna come, daddy, and then just stops. Pulls away entirely, gets to his feet, leaves you to throb and shiver and beg, whole body flashing hot and cold on the precipice of orgasm. Still holding you pinned in place with your wrists at the small of your back, you watch his eyes roam along your draped form, he drags his hand down the wet length of his face, wiping the drippiness of your slick away. “Stay just like that for me,” and his eyes move to yours in the mirror, as if he’s known the entire time just how riveted on him you’d been. “What?” He asks with a crooked brow and a mean little smirk. “You think you get to come? After that little display?”

“Don’t be mean,” you whisper, staying exactly as he’d directed. Trying your best to be a good girl.

“Shoulda thought of that before, sweet girl.” He bends over the length of you so you’re eye to eye now, gets his face right up close to yours and presses a kiss to the tip of your nose. “You wanna pretend to fight, stand there like an indignant little girl stomping your foot and yellin’ about bein’ jealous while my come runs down your thighs still. Obviously, I’m not doin’ a good enough job of remindin’ you you’re mine, how much I want you. Gonna fix that now.” Presses another soft kiss to your mouth now.

“You’re trying to dominate me,” you whine, struggling to press against his mouth again even as he pulls back out of your reach, plants a big palm between your shoulders to keep you still.

“You bet your fuckin’ ass I am. You’re gonna do what I tell you to when you’re letting me fill you with my come the way you are. And you’re gonna like it too. You get me?”

“Yes, daddy.”

But then he goes serious, that teasing glint in his eyes flickering away suddenly. “You have nothing to be jealous of. Ever. I don’t want anyone but you. I don’t care about anything else but this.” And even though you’re sure it must be a lie, it sounds so lovely, you choose to believe him for now. You nod up at him, sniffling and crying again a little bit. “And no one takes care of you like I do,” he finally says, as if it’s a reminder, a consolation to the both of you once again.

And he’s right, as he tells you to stay put, be a good girl and not move, leaves you there bent over the bed, that chant sounds in your mind, no one takes care of you like he does, no one, no one, no one.

He steps back into his bedroom to the sight of you still draped over the bed, big eyes wet and slightly vacant, pussy red and swollen and bared to him like a wound with his name on it. You’d brought your fingers up to your mouth, chewing on your fingernails the way you did sometimes when you were anxious or overwhelmed, and when your eyes flit to him, taking in the bowl of warm water, the washcloth and shaving cream in his hold, they go wide, shocked. He arranges his things, gripping you by the hips to turn you over, pulling his shirt from you, leaving you entirely naked, and settling between your spread thighs. “Wh– what are you doing?” Voice all breathy and hitched, the thrum of your excited pulse in your throat.

“Gonna shave you bare. Then I’m gonna eat you ‘til you’re crying, ‘til you’re so swollen you can barely take my fingers. After that, I’m gonna wedge my cock inside you and fuck you ‘til you’re so full’a my come you’ll remember not to forget you ain’t got no reason to be jealous ever again.” He strokes your curls gently with the pad of his thumb, something like fondness in the gesture, clicks his tongue. “These’re so pretty. Gonna miss ‘em.”

“Oh my god,” you choke when he drapes the water warmed washcloth over your spread pussy.

“You wanna be a brat, you wanna fight and act like you don’t know I belong to you and you to me? That none of that other shit matters– I’m gonna remind you, don’t worry.”

You crane your neck, pushing up on your elbows to watch him remove the washcloth and cover the soft curls of your groin with shaving cream. When he opens the blade and brings it to your skin, the sight of the straight edged blade against you, the smooth cream as the steel reveals the bare, satin soft skin beneath, has your chest heaving, sweat pooling at the little notch of your throat – fucking gorgeous and his.

“You’re going to be so sensitive, baby,” he murmurs as he bends your leg back and opened wide, splitting you for his gaze. Delicate with the movements of his wrist as he shaves you. “All bare and slick down here, just for me. You’re so swollen already.”

You mumble something, moaning and letting yourself flop back against the mattress, he’s quick to pull the blade from you, pausing his movements while you settle, gives you a second to press the balls of your palms into the sockets of your eyes, whining Joel and daddy and please. And the trust in this moment between the two of you, that you’re letting him wield a blade so close to your fragile center, letting him do this to you as a way to remind the both of you of the power you cede and wield over and to one another, something that gives him the opportunity to inflict his will in a way that recenters you, reminds you that you’re his, his to do with you as he will, and it’s just the two of you in this space and you trust each other implicitly, it has a sense of control swelling inside of Joel, making his cock rock hard in his jeans, leak down his thigh. Control in a way there is none of in everything else between the two of you. Control in a way there cannot exist in any other aspect of your relationship. When he’s finished, he cleans you slowly with a new warm, damp cloth, then goes to put away his supplies, and when he returns, he looms over you, taking in the sight of your little bald cunt now.

Slowly, he starts to pull his clothes off, watching the quick panting of your breathing, the dip and swell of your belly, so aroused by the intimacy you’ve just shared that your pupils are blown wide and dark. “You’ve made such a mess, little girl,” he says, dragging a single finger through your overflowing slit, following the slick from your swollen clit to your asshole where it pools beneath. He fingers your folds gently, avoiding your swollen clit, your little hole winking at him wantonly. “Please–” you whisper so softly, almost gasping for breath you can barely get the words out.

“Oh, I know, sweetheart. I know you need to come so bad, don’t you?” He drags his palms up and down your thighs, up to your waist and then tugs you down over the edge of the bed and onto your knees in front of him, wide eyes riveted hungry on his cock. “How does it feel? So sensitive, isn’t it?” He’s so hard his erection stands straight up towards his belly, balls hanging heavy and full and aching. He gently drags his fingers along your scalp, feels the heat emanating from your skull. “Lick it all over, get it nice and wet so I can put it inside you.” He knows he needs to be careful now. The two of you are wide open to each other in this moment, so on edge he could come just at the look in your eyes, and you, something more than just vulnerable. He’d worried briefly, in the past weeks, if he should stop, send you away, take himself away, tell you it was too much. You were getting too attached, and although he knew it was too late for himself, that he was beyond salvaging when it came to you, he could imagine nothing worse than seeing you come out hurt from this. Could also imagine no scenario in which you wouldn’t anymore. He feeds you his cock, fisted tightly at the root to stave off his impending orgasm, slides all the way to the back of your throat until he feels his tip hit resistance, enjoying the sight of you choking on it for just a second. Good girl. “Fuck– fuck, yes. See, see how good you can be for me?” He tells you as you suck on his tip, hollowing your cheeks and running your tongue all around the wide head, tonguing his foreskin, making him hiss and bear his teeth at you while you look up at him with falsely innocent eyes. He yanks you up and against him, gives you a filthy, wet kiss, all tongue and teeth and false control, swallowing down the taste of his own precum. He’s never felt less in control of himself, of a situation, than he does right now. He has, in these past weeks, entirely lost sight of himself, of what this should and should not have been, blindly led by his cock and his heart. He’s lost all control, and Joel is nothing but weakness and want now.

Turning you in his arms, he sits at the edge of the bed, thighs spread wide and pulls you onto his lap, impaling you back onto his spit-slick cock so swiftly he doesn't even think you’re expecting it until he’s bumping against your womb, your knees hooked and spread wide over his own. Too desperate to lick your cunt again the way he’d planned. You let out a long, shocked keen, back arching, trying to escape the too big cock suddenly shoved inside of your tiny hole. Joel has to grit his teeth, take deep breaths through his nose and out through his mouth before he can speak at the feel of you fluttering and pulsing around him, “The more you whine, the harder I’ll fuck you, got it?” There’s nothing even close to a coherent response coming out of your mouth, and he was right, shaved bare like this, you’re so much more sensitive. He pulls the lips of your sex gently apart around where he’s impaling you, takes in the sight of your little hole stretched obscenely around his fat cock in the mirror’s reflection and slowly starts to seesaw his hips back and forth, watching his glossy length disappear in and out of you. “How does it feel, baby? You’re so pretty, look at yourself.” He whispers into the small shell of your ear, presses a soft kiss to the lobe, tugs on it with his teeth. He slides in all the way, pulling your hips down so that his balls press against the curve of your ass. “Look, see where daddy’s so deep inside you – can see it in your belly.” Your head lolls back on his shoulder, gaze hooded and delirious, but your hand moves down to the soft skin of your stomach, gently cupping the outline of his cock inside of you. “I’m so deep inside of your tiny cunt, baby. Look at how you’re all mine–” He starts to move again, flicking at your clit, interchanging between fast and hard and slow and so soft you can barely feel it, and your face looks like you want to say something, tell him something, scream, but can’t. And there’s so much he’d like to tell you too, all the things you deserve and probably need to hear from him, but can’t either. He feels you start to tighten up on him, the heat in your body suddenly seeming to flush higher and brighter, almost to boiling, your cunt going so, so tight it almost pushes him out. He presses inside harder, holds you in place with one hand, and thrums fast and hard at your clit with the other, focusing the tip of his cock at the front wall of your pussy, “You’re gonna come–” he grunts, holds you in place and hammers into that swollen place inside of you he’d kill to own for the rest of his life. “Fuck– fuck, you’re gonna squirt all over my cock, aren’t you? Can feel it–” Your face spasms, your belly clenching hard and tight, and you gush, letting out a pained, animal sound, voice broken and breathless, wetting both of your thighs with your come, the bed covers beneath soaked dark. Joel doesn’t stop. He wants more, again, all of you, thrums again at your clit with the pads of his fingers, changes the angle of your hips to roll you fast and hard onto his come-slicked length, pinches your clit hard, watches you squirt all over him again. Something like the sound of his name leaves your mouth in a broken cry, your chewed raw nails trying to claw at him ineffectively. “Dirty fucking girl – creamin’ all over your daddy’s cock,” his voice is gruff, not entirely his own. There’s something here – you’d told him once you’d always felt out of control. In your relationship with Sam, aware of what he was, always, of what you were and were not, and that there was something about control that was so necessary to you now. And there is something here like control, your control over him, taking hold of him entirely so he’s unsure of what it is he should and should not be, here and now, with you. He should not be delusional, he should be aware. He is not adhering to either very well.

He goes to his feet with you still impaled on his throbbing length, erection so hard it hurts, can barely stand up straight, blood pounding on rhythm to the chant of your name. He pulls you from him, watches the slick slide of your cunt walls dragging along his length, the cream of your slick left as a reminder all over his skin. He presses you onto the bed, rolls you this way and that too look at you all over, bends to drag his tongue through that drippy cunt of yours that squirts and comes so prettily for him, then back up and kneeling above you, between your glossy thighs, and thrusting into that tight cunt, grunting as you clench around him. So hard he feels the screaming tip of his cock punch against your cervix, listens to you make a hurt, hiccupy sound when his balls slap against you.

He should be gentle. He should be careful. He should be aware, not delusional, himself. He should reach back and take hold of that man he always thought himself to be, hard and cold but never cruel. Maybe not good, but always aware and never weak. He’s none of those things now here with you. Joel is now only himself. You’ve made me into a real person, you’d whispered onto his tongue. What he’d not told you was that you’d done the same to him.

You’re a gift, a gift, a gift, a gift. A gift in the way his son never was. A gift in the way that a whole lifetime lost and returned to him never was, and Joel is weak and two feet tall and made of paper, but for you. Anyways, or despite it all, still made only for you.

“Fuck me like you’re in love with me,” you say, read his mind, take hold of the beating mass in his chest. Fuck me like you’re in love with me. And maybe you don’t mean it. Maybe you’re too far gone. It doesn’t matter.

He does it anyway. Pulls back, wedges back inside the too swollen, too sensitive, too tiny cunt that belongs to him. He bears his teeth at you, grabs hold of your face so hard you’ll bruise, and fucks you like he’s in love with you. It comes to him so easily, after all.

Shoving his knees high up beneath your thighs, he brings your ankles to his shoulders, little feet knocking against his ears, he wishes for sense, he finds none, only a deeper, sharper angle. The sounds of your cries and the things you whisper in his ear he knows you should not say and he should not listen to that fill him full of things he should not feel like I was made for you and daddy, there’s no one like you and come inside me, please, please, I need it. He pulls his hips back, swings them forward, listens to the sound of his balls slap, and you beg for harder, savors the fire that pools in his belly and the base of his spine. And he thinks that he should pull out, he’s been so fucking careless with you and your future and your vulnerability, but he’s like a monster full of greed, intent on nothing but staking his claim, leaving a claim, desperate for a way to be remembered or never forgotten or never left behind. “We have to be careful,” he begs you, and feels scared and terrible for a moment, not to be trusted with a gift like this in his hands. “I’m going to get you fucking pregnant, God.”

But you’re like some siren, something taking him away from himself, and you tell him, “I don’t care, I don’t care,” voice gone so far away from yourself too, all hazy, full of bubbles and too cock drunk to be true or sane, but it lands like a gut punch anyway. And Joel tries to hold onto himself he does, he swears he does, tries to remain rational, and aware of what this was supposed to be and not supposed to be. Tells you to please, “Shut up, shut up. Please, don’t say those things to me, I’m begging you.” But eventually that siren song wins out, the feel of your cunt sucking him deeper, milking him dry, your small damp hands pulling at his hair, stubby nails dragging down the skin of his cheeks, over his back, and Joel’s weak now. Weak and full of want and greed and delusion so that all that’s left is capitulation and: “You want daddy to fuck his babies into you? You want me to fill you up and keep you forever?” But something of himself must remain because he covers your mouth, big hand wrapped around your sweaty little face before you can answer, forcing the words silent inside of your mouth, the truth you both know you’d spit out otherwise. Yes, yes, I do. And as if the idea of you carrying his child held a direct like to your orgasm, you start to come around him, overwhelmed cunt, split in two and carved in the shape of his name now, clenching around him, going so wet and hot and tight Joel’s sure he’ll never be able to leave it ever again. You reach down between the two of you, grasp the half of his cock outside of your wet clutch, shiny with your slick and jack him off with sharp little tugs, make sure he fills you with his spend full to the brim. He spills over and out, dribbles down the slope of your ass to leave you lying in a little puddle of his semen, and when he pulls out, careful to not ask you to hold all of his weight over you, he brings your fingers to your gaping cunt, “Feel where daddy’s been,” lets you play in the imprint of himself he’s left behind.

He lays beside you, steaming hot little thing worming up against him, nuzzling beneath his chin, pressing tiny kisses that tell him all the things the both of you need to hear and say, and he feels himself go cool and dry inside and out. Something terrible suddenly swelling within him. Something that reeks of truth, and you must smell it in the air as well because you share a piece of your own painful honesty with him, force him to confront it. “Sometimes I think I’m impossible to love,” in the smallest voice he’s surely ever heard.

“Haven’t I shown you how untrue that is?” Because if there’s one thing he’ll never do with you, it’s lie.

You tuck your hand beneath your cheek, and you glow, and he feels blinded by it for a moment, eyes wide and so vulnerably tender, something afraid that makes something equally vulnerable inside of him rage and beat its chest. “Is that what this is? Are we in love, Joel?”

He thinks you must see the fear in his eyes, because yours suddenly go calm, fathomless, something steady for him to hold on to, and that stench of honesty chokes him. “Yeah–” he nods, swallows, thinks of his son, hates himself. “I think so, baby.”

What can remain the same after honesty like that? After splitting yourself open and showing each other your insides in such a way? What could possibly remain the same? Nothing. The truth is laid bare, and all that’s left now. And instead of setting you free, the truth never really sets you free, it makes everything terribly fraught and frightened and fragile.

When he moves to stand, the sound of your desperation for him to make you his in an irreversible way rings like exploding shrapnel in your ears, “Do you think we’re bad?” You ask because you’ve only ever wanted to be good, but his eyes are so haunted, large and round and fathomless. His face, taking on a sudden sort of gauntness as he thinks of what to say to you after the worst has already been said. You watch the line of his throat ripple as he swallows several times, reading the real truth in his eyes before he shakes his head slowly, incongruous like a lie, “Never you,” and he does not include himself, “Never you.” It’s devastating. Devastating that the only thing that’s ever mattered, the thing that has finally made you good, is bad in his eyes.

You sit at the kitchen table, watching him while he makes dinner for you. Cold and shivery and wet between your legs in a way that’s not comfortable anymore. In a way that feels like an essential part of you is slowly dripping out, leaving you grossly empty inside. The beautiful dinner he’d bought and made for you tastes like ash wrapped in all the honesty surrounding the two of you, and you stare at each other and there's no need for more words because the truth is all right here in front of the two of you to see with your own two eyes. You want to go get dressed, but you don’t want to call attention to the seed of wrongness that’s been planted now. Are we in love? When the answer had so obviously been yes for so long already. Naive, silly girl. And you want to be angry with him. Ask him why he’d done this to you, made you fall in love with him when he’d said before that you couldn’t, when it was all so hopeless. You also want to hear him say it, say the words out loud with teeth and tongue and sound, you want to taste the words in your mouth because seeing them in his eyes wrapped in all that hopelessness isn’t nearly enough to satiate this hunger he’s stoked inside of you. You want to ask him to hold you, to crawl into his lap and have him cradle you like a child protected in the embrace of stronger, wiser arms. You want to have never been put on this path, to have never met his son, never have married him, never have met him. You want the whole terrible ordeal to be wiped from mind and mouth and memory. You want to have not had to accept it all, not have moved on, not be grateful in ways you can’t even understand for the lesson it’d all posed. You want it all to have never happened. To never have experienced the entire convoluted mess of feelings this ordeal of tearing down your entire life to make yourself anew had caused. To have never fallen in love with your ex-husbands father.

He sits in his chair, hands cupping his chin for so long, silent and staring, probably wondering what to do with you, and when he finally stands, nothing but a long, pained sigh to interrupt the terrible silence, you finally muster the strength to go find that missing bra. Crawl home, once again a ghoul in the night in need of wound licking. And it must be that very same terrible silence, the even more terrible look in his eyes that has something pressurized, set to burst, bottled inside of you because when a knock on the door sounds once again, you don’t even stop for half a thought, exploding suddenly. In his clothes and come, ripping the door open, the words on your tongue ready to spit at her that he’s already got one desperate woman on his hands that needs taking care of, and no, he will not be fixing her dishwasher or her pussy or anything else she thinks she might need him for.

But it’s not the neighbor. And you have nothing but fear lodged in your throat to spit out when you meet his eyes.

Eyes like his father’s, colder, crueler, furious and humiliated, take you in. Just fucked hair and a flannel that’s not your own, mis-buttoned, come-dryed thighs. And worst of all, his voice, like he isn’t even that surprised, like he’d come here just to find this, “You fucking whore.”

“Sam–” you’re not sure if you actually say his name, but the intention is held there, on the tip of your tongue. A plea for mercy or a shout for help or protection or something.

“You fucking whore,” and you flinch at the scream in his throat, scuffle back into the safety of the house of the man you love who is the father of the man you were married to, the man who broke you, the betrayed son. He’s shocked still for a single second, before he’s charging at you, fist not entirely raised but definitely held with consideration. And, “I knew it, I always fucking knew it,” before Joel is there, stepping between you and your ex-husuband, his son, blocking you with his body, big hand wrapping entirely around your forearm to hold you close to himself, to hold you in his protection.

“You better put your fucking arm down before I break it, son.” That moment, Joel’s voice, the utter betrayal in his son’s eyes. The sound of you breaking something that you should have never ever gotten in between. It is worse than all the rest. You take him in, the sight of this man who you used to be married to, he’d always seemed so large in your eyes before, so unattainable. Something never to be fully touched, only gazed upon. Always apart, always cold. Sam’s eyes fall to the place where his father holds you, and his face spasms, something terrible. Broken and alone, a child cast out into the cold. And you want to say that he seems so different now, haggard and gaunt and whittled down to bare bones, but it isn’t the truth. You always knew what he was, your most terrible bit of honesty. You always knew, you’d just not cared before. There was never any separation, no space for you to take a breath and want better for yourself. To be under his scrutiny, something that at one time felt like admiration, but was never anything even close, it was like nothing else, like everything, a great lie. But he was too aware of it, of himself, of that power he held over you, and unlike his father, he was cruel with it. Your eyes move up to the back of Joel’s head, the hard edge of his jaw, the muscle that spasms furiously there. What would it do to you now to be under that same sort of attention, influence, admiration, but from a kinder, gentler, honest source? What had it done to you? Dangerous to risk yourself again, impossible to stop now.

“I always knew it,” he says again, “I always knew you wanted him. What? You let him fuck you?” The words in his mouth are a terrible thing, Joel says something, tells him to hold his tongue, to get the fuck out, but your eyes are riveted on the sight of his face, this man you used to be married to who’d broken you so completely, who’d stolen your very memory of yourself. He seems wholly unrecognizable now, and in a way, it frightens you, that someone you’d known for what seemed like so long could be such a stranger now. Joel’s hand is an anchor, such a comfort wrapped around your arm. “You barely let me touch you for two years, but you’ll bend over like a whore for my fucking Dad?” His voice breaks and it makes you want to laugh a little bit.

Joel shoves him backward, jerking you forward still in his hold. “Say that word one more time in my house, and I won’t be held responsible for what I do to you. And don’t fucking look at her,” he snaps, reaching up to give him a quick two tapped slap on the cheek to focus his gaze on himself. “Get out, Sam. I’ll call you later. We can–”

But unheeded or too far gone, like he needs to hear the sound of the words as a comfort to himself in this moment, Sam looks back at you, “You’re a fucking whore. I wish I’d never met you, I hate you.” Joel shoves him backwards again, harder this time so that his leg slams into the side table, overturning the lamp there into a crashing heap on the floor, so hard that when he pulls you with him it feels as if he’ll wrench your shoulder from its socket with the force of his anger. You yelp in pain, but cling to him anyways, refusing to let him go either, hiding behind the hill of his shoulder. Pushing his son away, not letting you go. It’s wrong, it’s wrong and you’d told him that you wanted to keep him, to take him away from his own son, that you were made of nothing but greed, but there’s something wrong here, inherently not right, bad.

And even yet, you can’t help the look on your face that must surely be nothing short of humiliating to Sam for the way he reddens, the little muscles in his face jerking uncontrollably. You’re done here, Sam. Get the fuck out, Joel says again, taking a step forward to herd him out, pulling you along, keeping you close. You taunt him with your gaze, can’t help yourself, “I thought I was a prude?” You say from behind the protection of his father’s body. “Isn’t that what you called me for all those years? Thought I was frigid, unfuckable, unlovable? Am I not anymore?” You ask in a small, breathy voice, falsely guileless, entirely provoking. “Have you changed your mind now that I’ve taken your Daddy from you?” False pout and mocking eyebrow.

Joel’s head snaps over his shoulder, incredulous look on his face, and Sam flinches as if struck, splintered glass in the shape of his son’s gaze, it fractures, falls back to where Joel holds you.“I wanted to talk to you,” He says to his father, “I wanted to– You’re really choosing her over me?” It costs Sam something to say this, and you weren’t expecting it either because suddenly, the game changes. His voice is child-like in its hurt, that son who longed for his father for all those years. “After everything that was stolen from us, you’re not going to choose me?” You know in that moment, he’s won.

“This isn’t about choice, son,” Joel tells him, but you hear it for the lie it is. “This isn’t about you versus her.”

“But it is,” and his eyes flash to yours, victory held in them. “She was my wife. And you’re my father, and you have to make a choice now. This is fucking sick.” There’d always been an intelligence to his cruelty, and he wields it now. The sound of his son’s name is a choked thing in Joel’s mouth. He goes rigid, a painful stillness, muscles vibrating with warring emotions. You hold your breath for it. He looks down at where he holds you, tightens his grip painfully, and then slowly, so that the three of you are sure to take in the whole procession of it, he lets go of your arm. One finger at a time, the heat of his palm leaving you, and you’re alone.

“It isn’t about choice,” he says again, and yet, one has already been made. You stand still, head bent, gaze riveted on the place where he’d let you go. He takes a step away from you, towards his son, and his voice is low and gentle and soothing now, and you’re still staring at the barrenness of your arm.

I had such potential to be good, you think. He just never saw it. But you don’t know who you mean. And you don’t think it matters anymore.

They say more to each other. Joel’s hand on his son’s arm now, pushing him towards the door, but still, still comforting for the thing it symbolizes, a benediction of choice, and you turn around to face the other side of the room. You can’t look – wrapping your arms around yourself. You don’t think you’ll run this time. Face it head on, let it be over now in full. Sam’s voice rings shrill, the sound of your name and curses and accusations, fighting a futile fight against his father’s even baritone, the sound of the slamming door, and then silence. When you turn back over your shoulder, they’ve stepped outside together, leaving you alone inside the house.

He’d asked you once what you wanted, and you can’t fathom what the point of it had been. What does it matter what I want? That’s the least significant thing here. It always was.

When he finally comes back inside, you’re dressed, lost bra retrieved, your bag packed and sitting at your feet. You’d gone into the kitchen just before, taken a peek at the pie, and you were right, and you don’t know how he could have possibly known, but he’d gotten you rhubarb. Your face is dry now, no tears and no will to cry. There’s nothing to speak of in his gaze when he leans back against the door to look at you, swallowing down words you’re sure will mean nothing in the face of all of this. And you look at him and you love him and you think, I was married to a man once and now I’m not and now I’m with his father and I love him in the way I never loved the son; and so now, I must ask myself, am I merely looking for the love of lesser man, who could have never given me what I needed, in the eyes of a man who seems to have all the answers?

You don’t think so. And yet, there are still no answers to be had, and no questions left to ask.

“I’m going this time,” In case he has designs to force you to stay, and even though there’s a light of acceptance in his eyes, he still shakes his head. Swallows and gathers his seams about himself before he says, “You aren’t leaving me,” gaze churning from warry to flinty to resolved.

“I was never supposed to stay at all. I was never supposed to be for you. You said so yourself– you said we couldn’t fall in love. That I wasn't for you.” You get to your feet, pulling your purse over your shoulder, and he rushes towards you, pushing the bag back down to the floor, taking your face in his hands hard, something like panic in his eyes and in the air and in the vibration of his voice.

“It doesn’t matter, none of that matters– Whatever was before, whatever was in the past doesn’t mean shit when it’s just you and me here together–” And you’re crying now, real, great sobs of grief.

“You were the one that said we couldn’t fall in love,” you cry again, try and pull away, but he holds you to himself, squeezes you against him, shivers like he too is crying, burying his face in your shoulder.

“I was a fucking idiot, a damn liar. There was never any other option, baby.” Most terrible of terrible truths, you’d both known if for the lie it was the moment he’d said it, even before, probably. You stand limply in the circle of his embrace. He’d said once that he’d been a coward not to go out and look for you, but you know the opposite is true. No one is more of a coward than you were for not having waited for him. For having been so desperate for love, you’d been willing to settle for the wrong kind. You’ll never be able to settle for false comfort like that again, and it’s all his fault. “You’ve ruined me now. I’m ruined.”

He pulls back to take your face in his hands again, and you were right, he is crying. “I’m ruined! And I need you to give me another chance. I demand another chance– to… to fix this. To–”

But another chance for what? To change what? “He’s your son, and I only want you to be happy.” And you know he couldn’t ever be happy, truly happy, estranged from his only child. After all, like he’d said, the theft of him had been the worst thing ever done. You wouldn’t commit a crime like that against Joel also, never.

“Baby, please, I think… I– I love–”

“Please–” You press the tips of your fingers to his mouth, silencing him. “Please, don’t do this to me now.” It makes you angry, this intent of his to trap you here with his love when there’s no room for you to stay. You turn away, picking up your bag again, but he snatches you back into himself, wrapping his big arms around your waist, crushing you against his chest. And you’d struggle if you could, but there’s so little fight left in you. “You’re the one that said – you said we couldn’t!”

“I know what I fucking said,” he spits, voice so angry it almost frightens you. “But there’s still– We have to talk, we have to–”

“What can you possibly imagine there’s left to say?”

“Everything.”

“Or nothing.”

“Look at me. Look at me–” He pulls your head back and to the side by your chin. There’s a bright flush sitting high on his cheekbones, and his eyes shift quickly back and forth between yours, searching for a way to fix this. To fix the good thing that’s now been broken. His thumb strokes the point of your chin softly, and he presses his mouth slowly to yours, eyes open to watch for your reaction. “This wasn’t a mistake,” he tells you, “We weren’t a mistake.” Weren’t. The final nail in the coffin. “I know, I know that there are so many things– that we can’t… but just– just stand here with me for one minute, please. Just give me one more second, and I’ll–”

He doesn’t finish the thought, and you let him kiss you one last time. And when he pulls back, because it doesn’t feel like it really matters, and because you just want to hear the sound of it coming out of your mouth, because you wish it was true and not the complete opposite, because you want to be as cruel and ugly outside as you feel on the inside, you whisper, “I hate you,” a full bodied lie.

His eyes shutter and flicker for a moment, a wash of hurt suffusing them. But because he’s never been a weak man and because he’s always been honest, and he’s always, always above everything else, been good, he says, “And I love you,” and there it is. You’d thought you wanted to hear the sound of that too, but now that you have, it’s more terrible than you could have ever possibly imagined. And after that, there really is nothing left to say.

Joel goes to see his brother afterwards because it’s what he always does and who he always goes to when he’s lost. When a son in the shape of a man made of nothing but childish fear and anger and hurt, had appeared one day, dropped out of the blue sky, onto his front porch, when he realized he wanted his daughter-in-law in a way no good man should. And now, that he’s admitted, because the realization had already been there, swift and uncompromising, the admittance had been all that was left, the hard going part, that he was in love with you – in love with the woman who had been married to his son, here he finds himself again. Lost and weak and two feet tall, made of nothing but hollow bones. “I’m not myself,” he tells Tommy, and then amends the lie because he’s not come here to tell lies. “She’s made me into someone I don’t recognize and wish I could be forever.” How would he get his old self back now? Impossible. You’d taken him away with you, he was only half made now, half man, half strength. And Tommy is understanding because it has always only been the two of them, and he’s always seen Joel for exactly who he is without judgement. The most honest eyes in the whole world, his brother. “I'm afraid that she’s the love of my life. I’m afraid that I’m not really so afraid at all. And she won’t even talk to me.” You’d left his house a week and a day ago, and Joel was going out of his mind, losing pieces of himself along the way, his sanity, his sense of right and wrong, his self restraint, self possession. He was about to do something crazy, he felt it gnawing and itching at his bones. He could barely remember the look of betrayal in his own son’s eyes amidst the madness of the memory of the hurt in yours, the sight of you walking away from him. “And my son. My son, my child, Tommy, he hates me. And I’m in love with the woman he used to be married to, who he hurt. And he’s a cruel and small man, and he needs me. He needs my help, and I have a responsibility to him. But Tommy– Tommy, I love her. She’s mine. And what am I going to do? What am I going to say to him? How will I ever face him again? She’s mine, and I– I can’t explain it, I can’t excuse it. But she’s mine– she’s my woman. She belongs to me. I know this as well as I know my own name, my own face.”

And his brother, his brother, his brother who always understands him, who always stands beside him, he claps him on the shoulder and says, “If anyone can find a way, Joel, it’s you. I know you can. You’re stronger and smarter than anyone I’ve ever known. And you don’t abandon yours.” And so Joel must believe him because Tommy is his brother, and he knows him, and he knows that even though he’s weak now, even if he must let himself be weak now, in the face of all of this, Joel is not truly a weak man where it counts.

You and Sam had only ever spoken once on the topic of children. It was, from the first moment broached, a non possibility, not even half of an option. Devastating, but now, all this time later, almost like a grace from God. You’d wanted a baby so badly, more than anything in the whole world, and he would not give you one. He’d said your desire for a child was incongruous with your cold nature, how frigid you were.

And you’d been so long, caught in the who am I, in the what am I doing. You never stopped to ask why. Molded into a bad shape, but mute and deaf to the intricacies of what had carved you so. You’d needed to destroy yourself entirely, tear down everything around yourself, and then recreate yourself and everything else in your life in a new image. Perhaps, then, you’d finally have the chance to be good.

Your husband’s father had given you this. Joel had given you this.

And Joel, Joel, Joel, Joel. How to tell him that you’re sorry? That you’re vile and cruel and yes, even cold sometimes, but for him, for him you can find it in yourself to be soft, something to be forgiven, you hope. His son had called you a prude, and then, his father’s whore. Did it matter what the truth was? You weren’t so sure. Did you want Joel because you were a whore? Because your own father had never loved you, and you were thus desperate to fill that void left by lesser, crueler men? Did it matter? You hated the idea that this desire for him had to have been born by consequence of another man. What about what you wanted? What about the fact that it felt good when he was inside of you? When he gave it to you rough and hard and when he told you that you belonged to him because you did, because it was the truth. What about the fact that you were in love with him? That should have counted more because you said it counted more. And then that was it, nothing more to the thing of it. So what if he was the father of the man who’d been your husband? The man who’d stolen all of your surety, your passion, yourself. Sometimes, retribution feels fucking good. So what about it? And then, and after all, you were in love with him. So what did it all matter after that?

People liked to say that sometimes a bad thing is worth it if it feels good enough. But what if you didn't think it was bad at all, and what if it didn’t just feel good enough? What if it’s actually everything, the best thing you’d ever had in your whole life? And what if it is simply and solely, or maybe even also, who cares, who cares, what if it is simply because it’s Joel? Joel who is beautiful and strong and good. Maybe even perfect in a way that you need.

He’d told you once that he’d never had the chance to be angry, that it had been stolen from him, the worst thing ever done to me, he’d said. You know that you could never do that to him. Never hurt him in that way. And there might be so many options. Choices. Truths. Yourself. Finally, you are only yourself. Good in the way he’d shown you to be. In a way that did not bow to anything but the sort of goodness you needed. But Joel; above all else, Joel. He is the first choice, and everything else seems inconsequential after that. What is goodness worth in the face of all he’s given you?

So, you sit now, within the basin of your empty bathtub, no more leaky kitchen sink echoing through your empty apartment, he’d fixed it weeks ago, and peer over the lip of the tub. And there, blinking up at you from the face of the skinny pink and white stick, is your answer to goodness. It had always been within yourself. And you think, if it must be just the two of us now, then let it. After all, your father has finally taught me how to be good.

End.

Netherfeildren's Masterlist

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#pink fic #Joel miller #Joel Miller x reader #Joel Miller x you #Joel Miller/ reader #Joel Miller/ you #Joel Miller smut #Joel Miller fic #joel miller fanfiction #the last of us au #Joel Miller au #joel miller imagine #pedro pascal #pedro pascal characters

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astrophileous · 5 months

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PLEASE PLEASE PLEASE I need anything fluffy (and I mean the most stomach churning, toe curling, quiet screaming fluff please 🥴🩷) for professor!spencer because I am actually frothing at the mouth DO YOU FEEL ME🗣️‼️ (mwah ily kith kith)

I might have written two blurbs for this request and I might have driven myself crazy trying to determine which one I should post so here's to wishing I didn't make the wrong choice 🤞 this one is special for you avis I hope you enjoy it MWAH 💖

Warning(s): gn!reader, I imagine reader being in grad school but you can imagine reader in college as well--that just means there's gonna be an age gap in there, if professor-student romantic dynamics isn't your thing you shouldn't be reading this, profanities(?), established relationship

This blurb was written as a part of the "Zara's Birthday Bash and Road to 1K" celebration.

Zara's Birthday Bash and Road to 1K Masterlist / Criminal Minds Masterlist

Have a good day, my love.

You grinned giddily at the text message popping up on the screen of your phone. Without wasting another second, your thumbs moved swiftly over the keypad as you typed in a response.

You too, honey. See you tonight at dinner <3

"What are you so smiley about?"

You quickly shoved your phone into the pocket of your pants before looking up towards the owner of the voice. Gladys stood to your left with a quizzical tilt to her eyebrows. Her eyes assessed you from head to toe before they landed back on your face.

"I'm not smiley. Who's smiley?"

"You are." Her eyes squinted. "Something smells fishy."

"You should check your bag. Maybe you accidentally threw your cat's wet food in there again."

"That was one time!"

Gladys scampered after you as you made your way into the lecture hall. Akbar was sitting on the third row when you walked in, immediately scooting over to make room for both Gladys and you to slip into your respective seats.

"Hey, did you guys hear?" Akbar asked as soon as you and Gladys plopped down next to him.

"Hear what?" Gladys asked.

"Apparently, some people are saying that Professor Chuckie is hitched."

Gladys' eyes grew comically wide. "He's what?"

Your brain was working in overdrive, trying to decipher whom exactly Akbar had meant by Professor Chuckie. Between him and Gladys, the two of them had a tendency of coming up with dozens of ridiculous code names for every single person they ever encountered in life, to the point where you were constantly struggling to keep up with them all.

"Who's Professor Chuckie again?" you eventually asked.

"Chuckie? From Rugrats?" Gladys hinted.

Your frown deepened. "Who?"

"Oh my God, (Y/N)." Akbar sighed. "You know the man. Fluffy curly hair like Chuckie from Rugrats."

After swimming in a pool of confusion for the next few minutes, Gladys eventually took pity on you and blurted out, "It's Professor Reid, (Y/N). Professor Spencer Reid from Criminology department?"

Your stomach dropped to the floor.

How did they—

"A buddy of mine was at the criminology lab today and told me that everyone was talking about it," Akbar explained. "The Spencer Reid is married. It's a huge news."

"Damn right, it is." Gladys scoffed. "Why are all the fine men in my life already taken? I hate it here."

Akbar rolled his eyes. "Right. As if you ever had a chance with him anyway."

As your two friends proceeded to bicker with one another, you felt yourself sinking deeper into a temporal abyss as your brain tried to process what Akbar had just said.

Spencer Reid is married.

Everyone was talking about it.

A lump formed at the base of your throat as you faced Akbar again, "Hey, how did they—how did your friend find out that Professor Reid was married?"

"He showed up to work with a ring this morning."

Your heart was racing inside your chest. "That's it? Not a very conclusive evidence, isn't it? Maybe the man just likes his jewelry."

"Nah, I'd bet my money that he's hitched," Akbar said. "My buddy told me one of the students tried to ask him about it and he just kinda smiled and nodded. Never really answered the question, though."

"That does sound kinda sus," Gladys opined. "Makes me wonder what kind of person managed to bag a specimen like that."

You hummed distractedly in reply, too busy mulling over everything to actively participate in the conversation your friends were having. Your professor strode into the hall barely five minutes later, and before long, the class officially began, forcing you to shake off any irrelevant thoughts about Professor Chuckie and his ring from the deepest corners of your mind.

Today was the day every group in class had to present their last progress report before finals rolled around. As soon as the fifth group finished their presentation, you walked to the front of the class with Akbar and Gladys following closely behind.

Akbar stepped towards the desk, trying to connect his PC with the class projector. He fumbled with the cable for a few minutes before he sheepishly glanced at you and Gladys. "I don't think it's gonna work. Either of you brought a laptop today?"

"I brought mine," you announced. "Wait here."

You ran back towards your table to grab your laptop before connecting the device to the projector. As soon as the desktop of your laptop appeared on the big screen, the entire lecture hall suddenly erupted in a round of synchronized gasps.

Gladys was staring at you, a clear sign of shock on her countenance. "(Y/N)?"

"Dude," Akbar muttered breathlessly. "What the hell?"

You swept your gaze repeatedly between the two of them and the rest of the class, confusion dawning inch by inch with every second that ticked by. "What? What's going on?"

Akbar nudged your shoulder, gesturing you to look behind towards where the projected screen of your laptop was being shown to everyone in the room. Your mouth instantly ran dry when you realized what had the whole lecture hall so stunned for the past few minutes.

It was a picture—the one you had set up last week as the wallpaper of your PC desktop but somehow had managed to completely forget about—of you and Spencer lounging on the living room couch of your shared apartment, holding up your hands to show off the identical bands encircling your ring fingers. Spencer was smiling big towards the camera with a protective arm wrapped around your shoulders while you peeked behind his neck with a portion of your face concealed behind his untamed curls.

It was a sweet photo to commemorate the most important day of both of your lives, taken merely hours after you exchanged vows at the city hall and entrusted each of your own hearts towards the other person to keep, nurture, and love.

And now, that same photo was up on the wall of Room 2404 as an impromptu spectacle for your entire Data Analytics class to see.

From behind the desk, Professor Clegg cleared his throat. "So, (Y/N). You and Dr. Reid, huh?" He peered at you from behind his glasses, not the slightest hint of a smile on his lips, but a brightly twinkling mirth in his eyes. "I guess congratulations are in order."

You exhaled a tired breath and replied, "Thank you, Professor."

Once your presentation was over, you retired back to your seat and discreetly typed in a message as another group came forward to present their work. You threw your phone into your bag after hitting send, trying to ignore the whispered demands of your two friends as they badgered you for answers.

Across the campus, Spencer's phone dinged with an incoming text.

He pulled out the device promptly, failing to contain his smile as he read the message you had just delivered to him.

Thanks a lot for the heads up 👎 Looks like there's no need for me to keep my own ring hidden in the wallet anymore >:(

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spoopdeedoop · 2 months

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hi i have some disorganized thoughts/hcs abt the found family human doctor au

(one of the thoughts being i should really give it a better name. another being YES this is only the nuwho doctors atm bc that's the only series i've watched so far apologies. if i ever get around to watching classic who i will add them trust)

BEHOLD my random, not at all in-depth headcanons

nine is the only one with a car out of all of them. they all keep bugging him to drive/pick them up from places -- he has mixed feelings about being the assigned taxi driver

both twelve and eleven are teachers -- college professor and preschool teacher respectively. twelve's students love them because he will say the most stupid, hilarious shit with a straight face without even knowing and eleven's students love him because he is the only teacher at the school that will dance with them during musical chairs (he doesn't even play the game. he just dances)

i want to make one of them an actual doctor but i don't think any of them could handle it unfortunately

they all share an an apartment flat on the same level -- nine, twelve and fifteen live in one room, ten, eleven and thirteen live in the one across from them. of course there are other people in the building too but they're all used to the strange loud hyperactivity of that particular flat. i think i'm using the right terminology here. yall know what im talking about

(i'm so tempted to make some companions be their neighbors)

nine and ten are the most insomniac of all of them, so they're used to bumping each other in the dead of night on their way to raid each other's respective fridges or something. very rarely thirteen will join them and they're like "WELL FANCY SEEING YOU HERE"

twelve does sleep, but like. he's nocturnal

eleven and ten hate each other in a sibling kind of way (see: day of the doctor). they are constantly sending each other death threats or tripping each other over. everyone is sick of it

sometimes when they're out shopping you'll hear ten yell "GET OUT OF THE FROZEN FOOD YOU NUMPTY WE ARE NOT BUYING FISH FINGERS" over the aisles and you'll hear eleven whine "WHY DO YOU HATE ME SO MUCH" back

(if you're lucky you'll be able to catch fifteen mumble "why did we put them in the same apartment. are we asking for an eviction notice")

eventually eleven will pick a random stray cat off the side of the road, take her home, and name her bowtie, which is a stupid name, so everyone just defaults to calling her kitty

kitty's favourite person is twelve, to eleven's absolute despair

(my original idea for this was to initially have ten hate the idea of living with a cat, since he's stated full on in the show that he doesn't like cats, but apparently there is some very obscure doctor who comic run in which he falls into a depressive spiral and adopts a cat whom he names rose-the-cat, so he might actually like cats idk?)

anyway ten hates her until he doesn't lmao. he vents to her when there's no one else home and she will Stare at him back and it is a very nice friendship

kitty and nine watch shitty romcom together

they have a joint groupchat together -- half of it is just thirteen and fifteen assigning everyone outfits they find on pinterest and the other half is eleven asking where everyone went (he keeps getting lost when they go out)

nine doesn't know how to download pictures off the internet and so resorts to manually editing memes together to send to the groupchat and everyone's like "girl that's so much more effort........."

(yes he doesn't know how to press save image to camera roll but he knows how to use a photo editor flawlessly. such is the logic of the idiocy of the doctors)

eleven and thirteen get along very well i think. they're the only two of the group to play video games and so they bond over that. they also have ridiculously similar clothing taste

sometimes they'll succeed in getting fifteen to play pokemon with them and then they'll proceed to not see him until the next day when he comes out of his room and goes "you didn't tell me plusle couldn't evolve i've been levelling it up all fucking night"

friday is assigned movie night (it's always big hero 6)

eleven is the only one to actively seek out physical affection, usually really abruptly like clinging to thirteen's back as she passes him in the hall or bapping ten with the palm of his hand until he sighs and gives him a hug. he does expect a platonic kiss on the forehead from anyone before he goes to bed and will complain if he doesn't get one

anyway thats it i'm sick in the head and really sad. if this keeps up i may be forced to actually write a fic

#doctor who #spoop speaks #if anyone has a name for this au i'm OPEN TO SUGGESTIONS #if anyone wants to write fic/draw art for this au YOU DONT EVEN HAVE TO ASK. IM ACTIVELY BEGGING. PLEASE #might delete this post if i get too self conscious it is. just. words. ew

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dirksawesomesprites · 2 months

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editing / fixing sprites + my headcanons

Part 1: Beta Lowbloods

Aradia Megdio

without bag

with bag

dead

she uses she/they and is demigirl and bisexual. her horns are covered in a layer of dust from scavaging for fossils and living in an underground hive. she wears a messanger bag that she uses to keep all of her fossile hunting materials and other things. she uses the fossils to decorate her hive and shes goth (original i know). her matesprit is sollux and her moirail is feferi.

Tavros Nitram

he uses he/him and is a cis guy (just is slightly feminine) he is mlm/gay. he loves fairycore and his favourite dog breed is a golden retriver (speficially the human version dave showed him, not alternian.) his robot legs will occasionslly malfcution, causing them to either get locked in place, squeak loudly, or get sticky joints. dave constantly has to call dirk over to fix his legs. his matesprit is dave, moirail is gamzee, and he has a black crush on gamzee (not very "black" though, mostly a "i can fix him" mentality but it ends up being "i can fix him but itll make me worse in the prossess) type stuff. its a pale leaning black thing.

Sollux Captor

he uses they/he/she and is bisexual and bigender (original i know but its kinda funny concidering my headmate with a sollux source is bisexual and bigender so im stealing that). hes emo and has a johnnie guilbert shrine in his hive he swears is ironic. he is colour blind (blue colour blindess specifically) so he sees voilet/purple as a ugly brown thats why he calls eridan ugly so much. he plays the synthesizer. hes double jointed and likes to gross his friends out with it. his shoes were orignially both white but he lost the second one but was too lazy to find it so he just wears the same brand shoe but different colours. theyre vans shoes. his matesprit is aradia , his moirail is dave , his kismesis is eridan , and his auspistice is karkat.

Karkat Vantas

he uses they/he, theyre nonbinary / transmasculine (has top scars and is technially transmasc but is also nonbinary i dont know if im saying this right) and is unlabeled for sexuality (they kiss guys but is unlabeled take with that what you will) they are punk even if they dont particualerly dress like it. their sweatpants are too big and their sweater is too small / tight so theyre a small gap of stomach showing. he purrs when happy, sleepy, or comfortable. when he gets scared their voice cracks and squeaks. when theyre alone listening to music in their hive hell jump around bouncing off stuff pretending to play the guitar and screaming / singing at the top of his lungs to the song. his matesprit is gamzee, his moirial is eridan, his kismesis is dave, and they aupistice for eridan and sollux.

Nepeta Lejion

she uses she/meow and is girlflux, catgender (original i know), grey romantic, and asexual. when she paints on her shipping wall she tends to get paint all over her and it has since stained her jacket. she has had her hat since she was very little and its very streched out and worn. same with her tail as its not part of her, it drags on the ground behind her and gets dirt, sticks and leaves caught in it most of the time. she likes to play the xylophone, read warrior cats, and play animal jam with equius. she purrs when she his happy / sleepy / comfy like karkat. her matesprit is feferi and her moirail is equius.

#dirksawesomesprites #homestuck #homestuck sprites #homestuck sprite edit #not a sprite post #lowblood trolls #aradia medigo #tavros nitram #sollux captor #karkat vantas #nepeta leijon #homestuck headcanon #headcanons

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buckyalpine · 1 year

Note

Hello, first I would like to say that I love your writing and it normally makes me really happy while I am at some boring classes at college, so thanks for that hahaha ❤️

Also, I saw your requests are open and since I am absolutely obsessed with your angst for bucky, I am here to request some.

My idea would be something like this: reader has been in the compound with the avengers for a while now and besides really caring for the team, she has some problems being more open with friendships and relationships in general, cause of some insecurities with her personality, but in somehow she feels really comfortable with Bucky and they are kinda of great friends?

And then she's just waking by the compound looking for him one day and she hears him speaking something bad about her? Something about how he feels like she's overwhelming him cause she just has him as a friend and no one else and it kinda makes her look for him a lot for comfort ( I actually have no idea what he could be speaking, so this is just an idea but it could be anything, really) maybe this could actually be a misunderstanding and he did not meant in that way? I would love if it had a lot of angst and a happy ending, but of course is up to you!

YES I live for miscommunication and comfort and this type of angst, this concept is everything!!

warnings: Angst, miscommunication, idiots in love/ friends to lovers, plenty of fluffff

"Hey sugar plum" You smiled, plopping beside Bucky on the couch while he scrolled through Netflix documentaries with a large bowl of m&ms in his lap. "Whatcha watching"

"Haven't decided yet, pick something Jellybean" He handed you the remote and candy bowl, throwing his arm around the back of the couch while you got settled in and flicked through the selection of tv shows.

"Of course" Bucky snorted, shaking his head with amusement as Unsolved Mysteries started to play. You grinned, comfortable nestled against his side while the rest of the team joined one by one; Sam swiped a handful of chocolate from the bowl only to have Bucky swat at his hand like a cat.

"Get your own candy pigeon pants"

"What, y/n gets some but I don't" Sam scoffed in fake offence while Bucky shrugged, throwing one at him.

"Well you're not y/n" Bucky shrugged while you felt your heart flutter. You loved everyone with your whole heart, you really did, but no one else made you feel safe the way Bucky did. Being around him felt like being constantly wrapped in a thick fluffy blanket. Ever since you had joined the team, you struggled to fully be yourself around everyone.

Not that anyone treated you differently; but being surrounded some of the strongest and most brilliant people on the planet gnawed at your insecurities. Steve was a sweetheart, Nat was incredibly skilled and drop dead gorgeous, Tony could charm his way out of just about anything. Everyone had something that made them exceptional and then there was you. You tended to be on the quieter side, fueled with self doubt over if you actually brought anything to the team.

Were you really all that interesting?

What did you really add to the group?

Did anyone even notice your presence when you were around?

Even if they did, did it make a difference?

You'd overthink your way into a quiet corner wondering why you were the way that you were. No one else could see the way you'd worry yourself into a ball of self-doubt, figuring you were just shy and they didn't want to mistakenly push any boundaries.

Then there was Bucky.

Being around Bucky was different.

Something about him was warm and welcoming. He didn't hesitate to pull you out of your hiding spaces around the compound, making sure you joined for team events and game nights. Any insecurities you had always melted away when you were around him because he made you feel special.

Made you feel wanted.

The night went by with everyone sharing their own conspiracy theories over what they think actually happened at the end of each episode while you stayed tucked by Bucky's side. Neither of you had any plans on calling it an early night, while the rest of the team eventually all went to bed as you switched to a new show.

"I'm going to grab more snacks, want anything sugar plum?" You were about to make your way to the kitchen when Bucky placed his hand on your thigh, making you stay seated.

"I'll get it, tell me what you want Jellybean" He shook his head, grabbing the throw blanket and tossing it over your legs so you'd be comfy for the rest of the night while he went to grab the snacks. You didn't have to actually say anything, Bucky knew exactly what you wanted. He came back with half the kitchen raided on a tray along with a beer, pulling you to his side, letting you snuggle against his chest.

You let out a content sigh, unwrapping a chocolate bar while Bucky snuck a bite, the warmth of his body making it difficult for you to stay awake like you'd planned. You eventually fell asleep, waking up to find yourself tucked comfortably in your bed as the sun poured into your room, your body still wrapped in the throw he had covered you with.

You felt your body warm up at the way he was so gentle with you, having carried you to your room without making you stir the slightest. There wasn't anyone else you'd feel so comfortable around.

He was your safe space.

You found yourself hopping out of bed with more energy than usual, deciding to train in the morning instead of your late night workouts, if you were lucky, maybe you'd run into Bucky after his morning run. You made your way to the kitchen, smiling when you heard his voice, along with Sam's, the both of them bickering over something irrelevant as per usual. The closer you got, the more serious their conversation sounded making you wonder if something had come up with a mission

And then you heard your name.

You stopped half way, staying as still as possible part of you wanting to run back to your room while covering your ears, the other part of you curious to know what they were saying. You wanted to move but your feet were glued to the ground, your heart hammering out of your chest.

"How about y/n?"

"Uh y/n..." You could hear the hesitation in his Bucky's as he contemplated his next words, his tone irritated. "She's whatever. It's not like that"

"Meaning?"

"Uh. I don't know, she sort of follows me around everywhere, there's not a day I don't see her but its not like I ask to see her"

You blinked, your stomach starting to churn. Did you follow him everywhere? You did see him everyday but you didn't realize you were following him.

"I mean she's only that way with you, she's definitely not that comfortable with Steve or me" You could hear Sam trying to reason with Bucky but all he did was scoff, your heart wrenching further.

"Yeah. It's overwhelming"

You wanted to run, wishing you had stayed in bed for an extra 5 minutes, your body now hot, not from how safe he made you feel but from embarrassment. Of course he was overwhelmed with your clinginess, he didn't want to have to deal with a burden like you. He had so much of his own issues to deal with and then there was you.

Guilt started to cloud your mind as you thought about all the times you spent time with Bucky, staying by his side while he reassured you or comforted you. How many of those times were actually annoying for him, how many times did he wish you would suck it up and leave him alone instead.

"She's not really friends with anyone else on the team, I'm not sure why she hangs out with me specifically that much" He sounded even more irritated than before; the rest of the conversation a melted into dull buzz, your heartbeat thudding in your skull.

Your eyes stung, hot tears flooding your lash line at his words. Your bottom lip, trembled despite how hard you were biting down on it; your forced your feet to move, slowly backing away from the kitchen until you were far enough to run to your room. You slammed the door shut, instructing FRIDAY to soundproof the walls and turn away anyone that came by before breaking down into sobs.

All of your insecurities were dialed to 100 along with more being added to the list.

How did you not see how annoying you were being. You felt awful, embarrassed, confused.

Why didn't he say anything?

Of course he wouldn't, he probably felt pity for you. A grown adult woman who struggled to open up and still struggled with her personality. An absolute joke.

You let the day go by, too ashamed to face anyone, let alone Bucky. If he felt irritated, there was no doubt the rest of the team knew exactly how annoying he found you. You couldn't bring yourself to see any of them, deciding to skip both lunch and dinner instead while burying under the covers.

****

Bucky frowned when he didn't see you the whole day, his worries growing more when he didn't see you come by for dinner either.

"Where's y/n?"

"I checked on her during lunch but FRIDAY said she'd requested to be alone" Nat looked at Bucky, confused over how he, of all people, didn't know where you were.

"Aren't you both joined at the hip, how do you not know Barnes" Tony wiggled his eyebrow while Bucky rolled his eyes, too worried about you to retort to Tony's comment.

"I saw her once this morning in the training room but not after that. She seemed fine then" Steve had seen you that morning, happy to see you brighter when he had spoken to you, not missing your shy smile when he'd mentioned Bucky's name. "No one else saw her all day?"

Bucky was immediately out of his seat, making his way over to your room to see you, only to have FRIDAY respond instead.

"Ms. Y/l/n has asked that no one disturb her until further notice"

"For fucks sake" He mumbled, knocking at your door one more time.

"I'm sorry Sergeant Barnes, Ms. y/l/n has asked to be left alone"

Bucky was taken aback when he was tuned away; in the few times you had locked your door from everyone else he'd always been exempt from that list. Why didn't you want to see him either? He reluctantly made his way back, his mind now racing over what could have possibly happened from the night before to now.

****

You had managed to avoid Bucky the next few days, purposefully staying away from the areas you knew he'd be around and staying in your room for most of the day. Whenever he tried to speak to you, you'd find a way to escape the conversation, his words reeling in your mind, reminding you he found you annoying. Overwhelming. Clingy.

You couldn't understand why he was going out of his way to try and talk to you when you were trying so hard to stay away, your heart in pain not being able to spend time with the person you felt the safest with. Your mind made it impossible to get a wink of sleep; you made your way down to the kitchen for a late night snack instead. You grabbed a bowl of popcorn, turning the TV on to your favorite comfort shows needing a temporary distraction.

"Jellybean?"

Bucky made his way through the living room after a late night workout, his heart jumping when his eyes landed on you. He was by your side in an instant, not noticing the way you froze when he sat beside you.

"Hi James"

Bucky blinked, his name sounding foreign on your tongue.

He didn't like it.

Not one bit.

Since when was he James.

"Uh, is everything okay?"

"Everything's fine" You forced a smile, scooting over so you weren't sitting too close to him, your mind racing trying to find a way out of the conversation. Bucky could sense your discomfort but he had no idea why, his heart beating harder against his chest when he noticed your eyes shift, as if you were looking for a way to escape.

"Are-are you sure?"

"Yup!"

"Doll" He noticed the way your eyes continued to flick around the room, refusing to meet his. "Somethings bothering you"

"What makes you say that"

"I-you called me by my name-you never do that"

"What else should I call you" You avoided his gaze, fidgeting with a lose string on a cushion while Bucky felt his stomach drop.

Were you upset with him?

"You always call me sugar plum. Only you do" He shrugged sadly, his bottom lip jutting out into a pout. "You don't call me James"

"Oh" Was all you could muster, feeling your throat close up, hot tears threatening to spill from your lash line. You tried to turn away from him only to have him gently cup your cheek, tilting your chin to face him. His heart broke seeing your glassy eyes while you chewed your lip to keep from crying.

"Please tell me what's wrong, did I do something? Did I say anything?"

"No" You whispered, swallowing thickly, pulling away from him only to have him take your hands in his to keep you from running away.

"C'mon y/n, please?"

"I-I don't mean to follow you around and be so clingy. I'm just trying to give you some space Bucky" You tried to keep your voice steady, hanging your head so he wouldn't see the tears run down your cheeks. Bucky let go of your hands to cup your cheeks again, his thumbs wiping away your tears.

"Jellybean, what are you-

"I heard you talking to Sam" You spat, now annoyed that he was here trying to talk to you when he was the one who felt you followed him around. "I heard you tell him I'm always around you. That you don't even ask to see me but I'm there. I didn't mean to be so overbearing. I felt safe with you so I was closest to you, I didn't realize you felt like I was following you".

"Sweetheart, it's not overwhelming for the reasons you think"

"Then what else could it be Bucky? You could have told me you needed some space, I would've understood. I wouldn't have spend so much time hanging out with you-

"No! I like when you're around me Jellybean" Bucky almost sounded offended you'd suggest such a thing while you shook your head, sniffling.

"You don't have to lie to me-

"Y/n, no. I promise doll, this is just a misunderstanding, that's not that I meant when I was talking to Sam"

"Then what did you mean?" You whispered, confused over what else he could have possibly meant. Bucky felt butterflies in his chest, not fully thinking this through. Should he tell you what the conversation was about? Could it be worse than you thinking he didn't even like you when the truth was the complete opposite?

"I don't want to ruin our friendship if I tell you" Bucky suddenly looked scared, his eyes wide like a lost puppy, vulnerable and afraid. He sucked in a breath before speaking, inching a little closer to you. "Sam was asking about if I'm seeing anyone. He thinks I need to put myself out there"

Oh.

A sudden pang of jealousy hit your chest, the flinch in your face not missed by Bucky.

"He was suggesting..." He bit his lip, chewing it nervously before continuing. "He asked if there was anything between us. He thought maybe you liked me because we're always together" Bucky continued to look at you like a kicked puppy, his own emotions now all over the place. "I didn't think you did. At least not in that way but he kept saying there was something between us"

"It didn't sound like you liked me very much" You shrugged while Bucky frantically shook his head, mentally scolding himself. "I thought you found me too clingy"

"Never. You're never too clingy. M'so so sorry doll, I didn't mean for it to come out that way, you're the only person who I can spend the whole day with, I'm not comfortable around others like I am with you. I love when you come around looking for me. I guess a part of me was upset because Sam wasn't the first to ask me why we weren't together and ask if we were more than friends. I didn't think you'd like me and it's overwhelming for me because I feel so much and...well"

"and?" Bucky blushed, struggling to get the next words out while you anxiously waited for him to continue.

"and I really like you" He whispered, squeezing your hand in his while you shifted closer, letting him pull you onto his lap. His arms circled around your waist, holding you close to him both your hearts racing, his nose bumping against yours.

"You like me?" You felt your cheeks heat up when he nodded, his blue eyes shyly peeking up at you through his lashes.

"I like you jellybean. A lot"

"Even more than m&m's?" You felt him hug you together, your lips brushing against his.

"More than m&m's" He closed the gap between you both, pressing his lips to yours, kissing you sweetly as you gently carded your fingers through his hair. He kissed you until you both needed air, a dopey smile on his face while you snuggled into his chest.

"Does that mean I'm your sugar plum again?" He whispered hopefully making you giggle, kissing him deeply again.

"Always, my sugar plum"

"My jellybean"

****

"Fucking finally" Tony mumbled, his hair ruffled, stifling a yawn as he walked through the living room, grinning at you and Bucky sleeping on the couch.

"I told him" Steve rolled his eyes, snapping a picture of you both cuddled on the couch while Sam snorted, nodding in approval. "Took them long enough"

Tags: @glxwingrxse @hungryyeyess @sebsgirl71479 @beabutterfly987 @teambarnes72 @witchywhore @jamesbuckybarneswify @slutforsexyseabass @chrisdrysdale @littlemarvelmenfan @buggy14 @whimsyplaty92 @sergntbarnes @inkedaztec @pono-pura-vida @moonlightreader649 @brooklynscherry-z @elle14-blog1 @justsebstan @littlelightnings @psychomanniac-blog @happyt0exist @emmabarnes @bethyruth @matchat3a @cjand10 @getwellsoontana @cherryschaos @lokisasgardianvampirequeen @ashenc-blog @buckybarnessimpp @potatothots @goldylions @high-functioning-lokipath @morganemorganite-blog @kingfleury @peaches1958 @spiderman-stilinski @peaceinourtime82 @gublur @wintersmelodie @geeky-politics-46 @lolawassad @almosttoopizza @a-poor-gryffindork @alternativeprincess @buckycallsmeaslut @kamaria-sweet-writes @charmedbysarge @xnorthstar3x @kryoee7 @alina02 @gh0stgurl @polishprincess999 @jessybarnes @alltheficsiwant @chemtrails-club @eralen @perdidosbucky-yyo @clqrosmgc

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stardustdiiving · 8 months

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Wanderer doesn’t hide the fact he likes Nahida

I totally get Wanderer being snarky is a funny punchline but sometimes I see Wanderer portrayed as being super snappy and mean in response to Nahida trying to be nice to him and I can’t help being like no!!!!!! He wouldn’t do that to her!! :(

Often people seem to think their dynamic is Wanderer being grouchy & mean & telling her to screw off all the time because he doesn’t want to admit he ~actually enjoys Nahida’s company~ but man like. Wanderer isn’t some edgy moody teenager that Nahida has to keep on a leash and scold regularly whenever he acts out—he’s a grown man who’s actually pretty emotionally perceptive/intelligent when he wants to be in my opinion—he’s just very blunt and cynical and often rude/harsh as a result

Wanderer hates sugarcoating his emotions & if him liking Nahida is majorly because he feels she’s proven it’s more or less safe to trust her, i don’t think he has any reason to hide the fact he genuinely respects her and is regularly open about this when he interacts about her in canon. He may grumble about her requests or emotional earnesty because, well, it’s Wanderer, but imo if he were regularly snappy/mean to Nahida even in an “all-bark-no-bite” way we would’ve see them interact like that on screen already—but we don’t, and the fact that’s now how does treat her is a part of their dynamic I find very endearing and enjoy a lot—so I want to highlight it!

Like…look at how he talks to/about her even just going off of inversion of genesis alone:

I feel hes noticeably more cordial and cooperative with Nahida compared to say, Traveler & Paimon—he doesn’t try to intentionally provoke her for fun (or out of spite in the case of early IoG) the way he does with us/Traveler, both in Inversion of Genesis and Parade of Providence. He spends all of PoP intentionally trying to act suspicious/up to no good to mess with the Traveler & Paimon whenever we run into him—and then we get to the end of the event and find out Nahida just… asked him to monitor the event to make sure there wasn’t any trouble (+ wanted him to make friends LOL).

Like we literally see Nahida playfully tease him on screen and he doesn’t snap or get really grouchy with her…he just tolerates it like a mildly disgruntled cat

Which is…cute! I think it’s very endearing, especially when I don’t feel Nahida is usually playful like this unless she considers them an equal/friend—it feels like maybe she picks up on his energy a bit and adjusts her sense of humor/friendliness accordingly so it’s more intuitive/comfortable for both of them

Everyone jokes about Nahida dragging Wanderer into socializing and making friends right—which is true and something I think is very silly & fun, but again…while Wanderer may grumble about it I don’t think he’s actively mad or fighting with her about it even hyperbolically. Look at how he responds to Nahida telling him she wants to help him reach out to people in Parade of Providence:

This, combined with how he mentions feeling about Nahida not wanting him to isolate & be lonely in his birthday letter (“I can see that she was looking for a chance to make my life more fulfilling, but has she ever stopped to think about what an "experience" it is for others to meet me?”) gives me less an impression Wanderer is outwardly indignant and grouchy about Nahida trying to help him and more like…openly appreciative of the gesture but just doesn’t really think he’s worth the effort

I again think the specific way his responses to her trying to help him emotionally are always worded again show a distinct respect he has for Nahida as a person, and he seems genuinely grateful by the fact she gave him a second chance when, given how internally harsh Wanderer is about things and himself and how much he’s internalized expecting to be used or disregarded by others constantly unless he fights tooth and nail to not be, he probably didn’t expect any sort of grace at all post losing the gnosis, much less having someone seem to genuinely believe in him & want him to be happy/stable when he took said offered chance

I just think Wanderer is someone who cares a lot about being straightforward, especially about things that really move him emotionally, and think it’s really sweet he feels moved enough by Nahida’s encouragement & goodwill towards him to genuinely want to try with life. I get so sad when It seems like people think Wanderer is too like, emotionally immature or jaded to ever care to express how he feels about Nahida even in his own blunt, recovering nihilist way (when he explicitly does in canon IMO) and have him be snarky & grouchy to Nahida constantly, or believe he’d find her being good naturedly silly/childish annoying and scoff at her for it (people seem to think he hates children when he canonically does not and is quite fond of them!! I personally think some of that soft spot comes from finding childish earnestness + innocence kind of bittersweetly cathartic/comforting to see and would be something he’d actively like about Nahida!!) 😔

This is something I always try to portray in my own fanworks of them I just like it a lot, I want people to see the vision!!! Their relationship is very mutual on effort put in from both sides & Wanderer is more open about respecting Nahida than you may believe—which means he actively tries to acknowledge her kindness towards him and she doesn’t have to babysit him or drag him into cooperating with her all the time! And I find it very touching and sweet!

#scarmouche #nahida #wanderer #genshin #lodish #hat radish #I had a lot of fun writing this post if you can’t tell. I love talking about my hat radishes #maybe this is too long for ppl to want to read but that doesn’t stop me….we ball #wanderer nahida friendship agenda & my insane passion for characterization are eternal #fern.txt #fandomferns

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hotvintagepoll · 2 months

Text

Propaganda

Gale Sondergaard (The Cat and the Canary, The Mark of Zorro)—She is so deliciously sinister in the Cat and the Canary it’s hilarious and ridiculous and she’s so gorgeous too! Incredible performance

Joan Crawford (Dancing Lady, Mildred Pierce, The Women)— God, where do I start!!! Her face is so UNIQUE and compelling and stands out so much. I love her thick brows and high cheekbones. She has a school-marmy hardness too her that makes her a little scary and therefore sexy. Her low thick voice also does it for me. Despite being an unusual looking woman with an unusual face, she never loses her glamour. Just a gorgeous talented actress, AND she was some sort of gay!!!

This is round 1 of the tournament. All other polls in this bracket can be found here. Please reblog with further support of your beloved hot sexy vintage woman.

[additional propaganda submitted under the cut.]

Joan Crawford propaganda:

I just love women that are very mean.

she was a smoke show in every decade, from the 20s to the 60s.

The classic matronly beauty with amazing eyebrows

of course there's a space for MILF joan but i want to just take a second and say she was so cute in her early movies (like grand hotel and the women)! those parts often get forgotten but her stardom shines in them just as much as in her older #queen #icon roles

Misremembered for wire hanger hatred, this original screen queen mastered the art of the comeback and refused to let Hollywood toss her aside as she aged. The term “auteur” is usually revered for directors or writer-directors, but most critics have one actor they’ll give that title to as well: Crawford—anyone who knows classic movies already has a “Crawford picture” in their head. She knew how to style herself and promote herself. She made herself a star and kept herself fixated in the Hollywood firmament. What’s hotter than knowing just how hot you are?

(don’t think about Mommie Dearest right now) Joan was known for being super nice to all the like crew of the movies she worked on and she’d get everyone gifts. Joan would hold movie nights at her house and knit at the back of her home theater. Joan was sooo obsessed with other women including Greta Garbo, whos dressing room she would obsessively and purposefully walk by. She said that while working on Grand Hotel, Garbo grabbed her face and “if there ever was a time in my life where I would’ve been a lesbian, that was it.” But like Joan also probably did sleep with women including Barbara Stanwyck. Joan was so obsessed with Bette Davis, screening multiple movies of hers in a day at her watch party, constantly trying to spend time with her or do a movie together, insisting on the dressing room next to hers at Warners and sending her daily gifts… etc. Once Bette said that sex was gods joke to humanity and Joan said “I think the joke is on her.” Joan fucked a lot. Joan got caught publicly fucking a man and sent a letter to the woman who saw them basically saying “I bet it excited you” and the woman was like you know what. It did. Joan was best friends with a gay man. Joan was an actually genuinely good actress even though people mocked her a lot for being like cheap and stupid (partially because she never finished school because her family was broke). Joan was so insane and so cool that’s all.

#joan crawford #gale sondergaard #hotvintagepoll #fuck that old woman #ladies 1

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klausysworld · 11 months

Note

Hello, can you do a one shot where the reader befriends Klaus just to get close to Rebecca, who actively accepts her advances and much moooooore over time?

No getting rid of me now

Becoming Klaus’ friend was a hassle enough.

He was paranoid and narcissistic.

However as soon as he trusted me, it was far too easy to see her every day.

He was constantly needing my opinions, my judgement on his plans and situations. And she was often there, just being an extra pair of eyes, throwing in her judgement every now and then and laughing something I said.

It didn’t take too long to become friends with Rebekah, her inviting me on shopping trips or spa days. Of course the best days were when she wanted to go lingerie shopping and needed my opinion.

———————————————————————

She did a little turn before putting her hands on her hips. The floral jade-green set hugging her figure tightly.

My tongue darted to to wet my lips as I did her a once over.

“What d’ya think?” She asked, her bright eyes shining back at me

I blinked at her a few times, my mouth failing to form words making me nod enthusiastically with a blush covering my face. She smiled widely and turned around to look in the mirror, her ass in display for my greedy eyes making me let out a breath and stand up.

“You think so? I mean it’s a little small, don’t you think?” She asked, her hands grasping her own breasts through the undergarments and pushing them together.

I bit my tongue before clearing my throat

“I think it’s meant to be a little…tight” I murmured before moving infront of her and adjusting the material over her breasts. When I looked back to her eyes they were dark, her lips parted and her cheeks pinker, contrasting with the shade of her lingerie, I could only hope that I was the only one receiving that look.

———————————————————————

Klaus picked up on my little obsession crush on his sister and found it rather amusing.

He often pointed out things he knew she would appreciate me getting her

“If anyones going to be with my sister, I don’t mind it being you love”

And once Klaus was on board it was much easier to get her.

Rebekah’s the kind of girl who thrives on the chase, she wants to be a prize to be won. She wants to prove she’s my first choice and I was all the more glad to show her.

Gifts were simple, even though she had everything already, any clothing or jewellery I got for her became her favourite thing to wear.

Stocking her up on her favourite perfume earned me and squeal and a kiss of the cheek.

Something as simple as aa sugar ring donut would have her launching into my arms.

The Mikaelsons as a family were rather touch starved, I had already learnt that as part of being Klaus’s now best friend. Whenever something awful had happened, despite his screaming and yelling for me to get out of his house, all he really wanted was a hug.

Rebekah was no different, bad day? Come here, we’ll snuggle and watch movies.

Someone said something mean? Okay we’ll go shopping just give me a second while i send an address to Klaus

She was like a cuddly cat, always wanted to be on me, touching me, wanted help with her hair or her dresses.

Especially when it was a special occasion, like a ball or a gala.

She needed me every step of the way.

And more often or not, while i would be zipping up her dress, I would find my lips sucking soon to be healed marks into her skin. Her head back to give me more access while she brought my hand round to her chest.

And throughout the ball, her eyes were always on me and mine on her.

But I made sure not to ask her to dance, she had to do that bit. I wanted her to come to me.

Klaus said it was always most amusing when she would come to him aimlessly panicking that I would say no and he’d have to literally push her into me so she’d have to say something.

And the night after I had finally gotten her in my bed, fingers deep inside her while I sucked on her tits and she yelled my name, Klaus simply gave me a smirk and a childish high five as an official welcome to the family.

There was no getting rid of me now I had her.

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mrsdesade · 5 months

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strange creatures with soft fur (headcanons of Loki playing with your cat)

Timeline: unknown

TW: no one / just fluff

Pairing: Loki x female!y/n

Note: since I'm in my room, blocked with an unknown kitten on my lap (we found her on the street this morning) let's see If I can write something themed for our favourite God of Mischief; enjoy ~

"what's that...black ball of fur?" is the first thing he said to you when he found that you have a female cat on your home on Midgard

you introduced your adult cat to him and you make both of them promise that they will be kind to each other

"little one, this is Loki. Be gentle with him."

"she's hissing at me? how dare you."

he pointed a finger to the cat and she slapped it with his paw

they have the same energy but they don't seem matching

it's just the first impression, it will get better with time

your cat loves waiting for Loki around corners and attach to his long robe to play and bite his coat

that's why he doesn't want you to bring your cat to Asgard

at the very beginning Loki wasn't used to the animals of Earth and everything is strange for him

"Loki, you have a wolf and a giant snake as a pet, and you find strange dealing with mine?"

"My pets are perfectly fine, is your cat that is unpredictable."

all of the clothes that he leaves around ended up covered in fur and full of little bites holes

Loki's body is cold because of his Frost Giant nature, so your cat doesn't like to go to sleep on him

but sometimes when he's studying beside the fire, she might decide to make the loaf on Loki's desk

of course, on his document and the books he was reading (after throwing to the ground everything she can just because)

he cannot stop himself to try little magic tricks on your cat when you're not in the room

one time he transformed her into a panther

"she's more fierce like this, and she's going to protect you better, that little ball of fur can't to nothing except hissing and biting my clothes."

"...alright I'll transform her back."

Loki's hand's are constantly covered of scratches and little red marks

after some times, one day you'll find them playing together with a strip of green fabric

you didn't interrupt the moment, you just look at them from the slightly open door

he was smiling so kindly and with a sincere tone on his voice, you perfectly know that Loki loves animals

he's even making her play creating small fireworks from his hand, and the cat is trying to chase them like soap bubbles

one day you'll hear Loki's voice calling from the other room because he needs to show you something

he was so proud to show you that your cat decided to fall asleep on his lap

"what can I say, everyone loves me...after a long period of disapproval."

from that day, she was purring everytime he saw him and the officially became friends

also Frigga find herself in love with that "exotic animal" you brought on Asgard

surprisingly after a couple of months he came back home with a little white kitten

"Loki, what's that?" you asked tenderly

"I thought she needed a little sister..."

so, at the end of the story, he has two little ball of fur and his girlfriend sleeping on him while he's trying to read

at least you will keep him warm

We're done for now~

It was so much fun writing this you've no idea! Hope you enjoyed as much I did.

Kisses💚

#loki laufeyson #loki series #marvel #loki season 2 #loki fanart #loki x y/n #loki x you #loki x reader #loki headcanons #loki fanfic #loki fanfction #loki x female reader #loki #marvel fanfiction #writing #writers on tumblr

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m00nlight-ramblings · 6 months

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BG3 Companion Modern AU Headcanons

These random thoughts popped into my mind and I had to write them down. I love these little weirdos, and some of them probably don't make sense but OH WELL.

Should I do a Part 2 with more companions?? Let me know - my inbox and requests are open!

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Astarion

This dude's got iPad kid energy - he loves to scroll Tiktok for hours.

He gets bi-weekly pedicures. And not the basic kind - the full on 1.5 hour long with the massage and the mask and the exfoliation.

His favorite holiday is Halloween. He plans his costume starting in August.

He'd be the type of person to be walking through a mall, see a Claire's, and spontaneously decide to get his ears pierced idk.

Is really into metal. Like, you'll come home and Metallica will be blasting and you walk into the bedroom and he's folding laundry and just like, "Oh, HELLO, Darling!" but will have to scream it over the volume in which he's listening to music

Will truly take an hour picking out the perfect wine to pair with your dinner...he's definitely a wine snob.

The cheapest article of clothing Astarion owns is from Banana Republic and it's an undershirt...everything else is ~*very fancy*~

Loves watching all types of vampire movies/TV shows. He can often be heard saying, "Oh no, they got that all wrong" under his breath.

He definitely reads like 1-2 books a week. He's recently really gotten in spicy smut books (he definitely got recommendations from BookTok).

For sure falls asleep to ASMR videos.

Gale

This man loves HGTV *queue Home Depot commercial music*

Has the most absolutely beautiful, clean home you've ever seen with about 30 bookcases CRAMMED with books. The books are the only disorganized thing in his home because he constantly is reading them, so alphabetizing them is useless.

Pinterest is his most used phone app. His boards are carefully curated. That man has a recipe/inspiration pic/quote for EVERYTHING.

Definitely volunteers at the animal shelter once a month. Often times has to talk himself out of bringing a cat home.

LUSH is his favorite store at the mall. He loves them bath bombs.

He THROWS DOWN at holiday parties...Christmas? Thanksgiving? The table is SET. The decorations are UP. He's wearing an APRON because he's been cooking ALL day. The playlist is PERFECT.

Speaking of holidays, he has matching pajama sets for everyone in the household. For every. Holiday.

Fall is absolutely his favorite season. "Sweetheart...have you ever watched 'When Harry Met Sally'? Perfect autumn movie...also I bought a new scarf today to go with my new peacoat. And mittens. And a new hat...it's getting cold outside."

He definitely has a Live. Laugh. Love. adjacent sign somewhere in his home

He definitely needs glasses to read. And he for sure has those librarian chains so that he can just take them off and they hang, instead of losing them.

Karlach

Absolutely loves to eat meals watching Youtube videos.

Imagine her in Times Square? She tears the M&M's store UP.

Is obsessed with documentaries. She often says things like "I can't believe there's so much stuff to LEARN out there!"

Definitely has a Squishmallow collection. And she rotates which one she sleeps with every night so they all get a chance.

Is absolutely the worst cook of all time but tries really really hard...however, she can make a mean boxed mac n' cheese.

Has an obsession with sugary cereal. There's always Cinnamon Toast Crunch or Fruity Pebbles in her cabinets.

Certified Switie for SURE.

Is really into astrology. Definitely has said, "Oh, you're just saying that because you're a SCORPIO" or the like many, many times.

Absolute Starbucks addiction (venti iced caramel macchiato, extra caramel).

Has monthly "girl's nights" (but everyone is invited) at her place. The rules are: pajamas only, junk food, romcoms, and a playlist of the best pop songs in the past 20 years.

------

How'd y'all like it...should I make a part two with other companions?! Remember my inbox is open and I'm accepting requests!! I'd love to write some stuff so send it in!

#balders gate 3 #bg3 gale #gale fanfic #gale headcanons #gale of waterdeep #astarion #astarion bg3 #astarion fanfic #astarion headcanon #bg3 #karlach #karlach headcanon #karlach fanfic #karlach fan fiction #karlach bg3 #bg3 karlach #bg3 astarion

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dimepdf · 1 year

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★ 𝐓𝐎𝐔𝐂𝐇 𝐌𝐄 '𝐑𝐎𝐔𝐍𝐃 𝐖𝐀𝐒𝐓𝐄𝐋𝐀𝐍𝐃. + 𝐍𝐄𝐓𝐄𝐘𝐀𝐌 𝐒𝐔𝐋𝐋𝐘

masterlist. / taglist. / any request? synopsis. when you initially asked Neteyam, the eldest Sully son who also happened to be smitten for you, for more assistance with your Na'vi knowledge, he was happy to help with a more hands-on approach.

─── ☆ notes. saw the new avatar and the way i had to pause and react and take in every detail cause it felt so short,, i cant wait for the 3rd movie to come out while im pushing fucking 40 or something with kids. | — feedback is always welcomed & don't forget to reblog 🤍

─── ☆ length. 2.8k (21 min read) .

"You can't, Tuk!" Only grumbling at his two most annoying younger siblings who had been following closely behind him, Neteyam dismissed the two in the typical older sibling tone of irritation.

Both of them were curious, like cats, to find out where he was going when he broke his patrolling routine and made the error of asking both their father and mothers for permission to spend the rest of the day helping you at the labs with your studies that you had been struggling with.

No matter how much he tried to pull both parents aside, at least one sibling had managed to eavesdrop, and then his plans of keeping it on the down low had fallen through like a domino effect.

This was why Tuk was bouncing on her heels, trailing after her two bickering brothers, Neteyam and Lo'ak. "No fair!" She tantrums, adding to the chattering back and forth, "I want to see y/n too, how come you're the only one that gets to go?"

With your parents being loyal scientists passionate for a change, standing alongside Jake Sully were a group of good hearted human beings that were allowed to stay on Pandora to live alongside the Na'vi colony.

Given that you were the second less rogue lab baby, it was the story that set the stage for your loving and extremely intelligent life.

Maybe it was the fact that you still had your two loving parents, ending up more bubbled and growing up to be more of a homebody constantly wrapped up in some sort of new experiment scattering around the lab despite working with people twice your age.

Everyone had grown to feel like one big nerdy family within the lab walls.

Neteyam tightly inhaled with his hand wrapped tight around the leather hand grip from the holster for his Ikran. He was starting to grow thinner and thinner with the patience of telling the little girl every excuse under the sun other than flat out saying that he just wished to spend time with you alone.

Lo'ak, of course, had been no help in calming Tuk down; his motormouth only added fuel to the flame as he continued to pester him alongside her.

"He doesn't want us to come so he can finally make a move on his girlfriend." The youngest boy teased. Lo'ak flinched away from his brother's attempt at kicking him in the shoulder with a knowing chuckle, the comment only made Tuk whine more in disgust.

Muttering an insult as he mounted his ride, Neteyam ignored the tightness in his stomach at just the mere mention of your name beside his hinting towards a romantic relationship; it was an odd pretty relationship you had with the eldest son.

“I won't be fawning, I'm just going because she asked me for help with her research.” Neteyam gave his siblings one more stern glare.

“And she's not my girlfriend.”

Lo’ak doubled in laughter, fuel only added as Neteyam showed more signs of annoyance. “Research? For what, exploring each other's bodies?” Neteyam had only rolled his eyes at the lewd question, taking off just in time for Tuk to ask what the joke had meant.

Neteyam had been to the labs a handful of times, whether it was to hang out with Spider, accompany Kiri to see her mother, or just keep a close eye on Lo'ak to make sure he would stay out of trouble.

But he felt like this visit was just different from all the others—more intimate, greeting the few familiar faces as you guided him by hand through the lab rooms. Ducking through doorways and crouching through cramped human sized halls to your quarters that had been cleared out for a separate space all to yourself.

It had been an old rec room redesigned and rearranged to your liking to hold all your personal belongings and decor. What was notable to Neteyam was the lack of boring control panels, odd techy devices, and bland white furniture all over the rest of the lab.

The usual white and blue alien sleeping pod had been swapped out for a netted hammock similar to the one he would use at home, making your room appear completely disconnected from the rest of the sterile and overly organized aesthetic.

A long desk piled high with books and paperwork was located across from your resting place next to the hatch entrance door, taking up its own space next to the large window overlooking the forest below the cliff. Your desk served as a clear confirmation to Neteyam that you were as intelligent as you appeared.

To enter Neteyam had to duck down enough to fit under the sliding door frame. As he did so, he peered around your messy bedroom with big curious eyes, soaking up as much information as he could about the space you loved to lock yourself up in all day rather than with him. "Okay, so this is what I've got done so far."

He followed the slight gesture of your hand, following towards the splattered spread of canvas against the once white wall now covered in layers of small paintings and scribbled wordings, but there was once a portrait that had caught his eye the most, a towering blue warrior posed with a bow.

You had painted him on your wall.

Neteyam exhales as his long fingers run against the textured wall, his ears folding back, expressing his hidden bashful feelings as he comes face to face for the first time with a beautiful mural of himself.

"Ah, don't touch it," The gentle grasp of his elbow draws his attention back to you, "it's still drying, dummy."

Your entire hand could only manage to wrap around two of his large fingers as you used the bottom hem of your shirt to wipe away the smudged paint on his fingertips, the view allowing Neteyam to look down at you while swallowing at the peak of your midriff.

In a good way, your body was very different from his. In contrast to his towering frame, you were much shorter with skin a warm shade of brown rather than the light sky blue he was used to seeing around.

It was more enticing to Neteyam, you weren't like anyone else he was used to, not even similar to Spider. You were a woman for one, he couldn't help but find himself entranced by you just so soft and plush looking, especially as you stood before him collecting your art supplies from around your bedroom.

He liked the way you always seemed to exude confidence with every step you took. How whenever you were concentrating on a task, your expression would soften, biting at the skin at your lip enough to draw his attention to the shape of your lips.

“Okay, so sit for a moment.”

He does as you say and sits with his legs crossed in front of you while kneeling on the ground. He had managed to have a height difference that reached your collarbone even while he was seated while you stood in front of him. Neteyam felt a bit insecure under your studied, silent gaze, watching your eyes move down his body with an uncomfortable exhale.

It didn't help his anxieties much that you were a more hands on learner, blinking as your hand reached out to caress his face.

A shiver ran up his spine at the gentle brush of your fingers against his cheek. "Your marks are so distinctive, pretty," you complement breathlessly with the trace of your pointing finger against his temple.

His ears twitched, and before he could react, his tail wrapped itself snugly around the middle of your thigh and drew you closer to him.

He murmurs timidly, "Yeah, they're kind of just all over," Before his hands could rest flat on his lap, he gestures while briefly puffing out his chest.

His eyes were looking anywhere but yours, as he was almost close to purring under your gentle touch. He just couldn't trust how his body would react to anything else. It was a mental war, trying not to make it seem as if he was completely gawking at your body.

The lift of your shirt exposed that same part of your stomach that his eyes could only see but his hands longed so desperately to trace. Neteyam’s fingers twitched, making a fist before hesitating in his grasp on your hips, his palm engulfing your sides.

The sight of his thumbs not being able to touch caused him to let out a shaky breath.

You nearly fell over when he suddenly wrapped his strong hands around you. The only thing you noticed was the curious look in his large, yellow eyes that were raking up from your waist as you used his shoulder to help you ground yourself. "Can I see it?" he asks.

You took a moment to process what he was trying to ask before your other hand could instantly cover the pudge of your stomach. "Hm, sure." You finally nod, lifting your shirt just enough to reach the midsection of your torso.

You had your marks in the form of a scar, a healed claw mark that stretched just below your rib, and a memory of the first time Neteyam nearly saved your life from a rogue Thanator that had wandered too far from its territory.

His face winced as he tried to push back the dreaded feeling he still would get in his chest thinking back on that horrible day. His fingers stroke against the rough skin, gentle enough as if he were afraid that he would crush you between his fingers by accident.

"I'm sorry," he mutters shamefully. "I let it leave a mark on you." He felt as if he had taken an arrow to the chest, the clench that he felt nicking in his ribs with every flooded memory of having betrayed your parents and his trust by being unable to truly ensure your safety in his hands.

"I told you to stop apologizing. You saved my life, Neteyam." You reassure him, yet he would fail to feel the same way, his fingers continuing down the scar tissue low enough to reach the waistband of your pants.

Neteyam’s fingers brush more towards your sides, his interest lingering at the hints of stretch marks on the skin of your hips.

"And what about these?" Foreign were the marks embedded against your hips and the dance of his fingers as they dragged down the jagged lines under them, hidden under the waist of your pants.

It was a daring request, meeting eyes with a soft gaze that had a flaming heat feel as if it were flowing through his veins.

Peering down at him with a dark look that made the tug of his tail more inviting, you closed the distance, falling against him with enough reaction time to straddle his waist. “Aren't I the one supposed to be the one studying you?” you whisper

“I don't mind, go ahead.” Your back arches as you encircle his shoulder with your arms and tuck yourself closer as Neteyam watches how you react.

His hands had taken the place of his previous grasp on your thighs, his tail wrapped possessively around your midsection. “Ohe think ohe'm keye’ung love.”

The beating in his chest was dangerous, but so was the way you looked at him before your lips could meet.

Neteyam didn't consider himself to be much of a romantic, the closest he had come to experiencing true love was through the example of the close bond his parents shared.

But as he kissed you, suddenly it all just made sense.

When you pulled away, exhaling hard, all he could do was chase after your mouth. The proportions were only a bit off—not too much that either of you had any objections against—as he swallowed each moan and whine that would pull from your throat.

Neither Neteyam nor you have ever kissed anyone before, maybe it was the way it felt so right to just let each other's instincts take over, grasping and tugging each other tightly as if there were any possible way you could get any closer.

Pure lust was what had taken over as Neteyam felt you shiver under his fingertips, the tangle of your hand in his braids had sent a new, inexperienced spark through his body.

Neteyam hissed at the odd feeling that struck him like a wave. "Oh, sorry," you mutter with a lick of your lips, your arms still laced around him.

He hadn't understood what you were apologizing for at first until he had followed your pointed stare to his crotch.

The feeling that had waved through him was now all too clear as you both glanced shyly at his bulging situation—that you had the guts to reach out and fondle before he could even process how to breathe once more.

With a sigh of breath, Neteyam practically whines at the contact, too caught up with the pit forming in his lower stomach to feel the embarrassment he would have felt at the pitch of the noises that parted from his lips.

You readjust yourself in his hold, wincing slightly at the death grip he had on your thighs. The small space you created was enough for you to fully get a better grasp on his length, disregarding the cloth that held his privacy and rubbing your thumb over the dark blue tip of his dick, smearing the precum that he oozed.

Neteyam doesn't know whether he wants to watch or squeeze his eyes shut, his expression pained, yet his body felt everything but.

His breath was shaky, and his limbs were tensing with each fisted stroke.

All he could do was tremble and moan as you jerked him off. "Ah, hold on, p–please." As he sagged forward and whimpered, Neteyam attempted to catch his breath.

His sudden deadweight forced you to fall backward onto your back, where you then caught yourself lying beneath him. You followed suit to the small moment of mercy, mostly for your own sake at the dull tiredness in your wrist.

Now that the position had not helped much to ease whatever was building up inside, Neteyam sighed at the newfound feeling of rutting himself against the soft skin of your leg that his dick was pressed against.

Wanting more of the skinship, Neteyam’s hands wandered to whatever they could grab, hearing you giggle slightly from the ticklish sensation.

It was the guide of your hand wrapping around his wrist, guiding his hand lower past the waistband of your pants. He felt drunk watching the way your expression shifted at just the mere feeling of his long fingers finding just the spot where you needed him most.

It was an otherworldly sensation that Neteyam was experiencing, feeling you tight around his fingers and pistoning in and out of you at a careful, almost unbearably slow pace with each thrust.

Even as you finished with your tense muscles clenching around him and a broken moan that made him shiver, a noise of encouragement would make him never want to stop praising you.

Once Neteyam got a look at his slick covered fingers, it was like a lightbulb had switched on.

Before you could even process the end of your orgasm, Neteyam had crawled down closer to your legs, leaning down desperately and tugging off your pants. Both of you still found the atmosphere light and comfortable enough to humor each other's eagerness.

Your laughter faded into small gasps at the strength with which Neteyam had elevated you enough to bury his face into your pussy sitting crouched on his knees as if you weighed absolutely nothing.

The same tongue he used to shyly babble to you with is now showing its true talent as his fingers probe you open the twitch of your hips shift against his mouth, directing him straight to his tongue sucking at your clit.

It doesn't take much strength for him to hold you in place, your entire lower half is lifted in his grasp, knees bent and held up against his shoulders, and you use your elbows to perch yourself up as your muscles clench from the pleasure of your orgasm.

Neteyam, who hadn't had much of a grasp on the ecstasy of climaxing, continued to suck and finger until you trembled all over and were begging out his name for mercy.

He was practically boneless, and tears threatened to roll down your cheeks as he finally allowed you to collapse into a heap of putty mess flat on the floor.

You push out your arms lazily, beckoning Neteyam into your embrace as you tug him down to lay on his chest with each other's legs tangled together, panting the same breath.

It was a comfortable moment of silence, listening to the matched rhythm of each other's heartbeat.

#[ ⇢ ˗ˏˋ ★ — t.wrks. ]#neteyam sully #neteyam x reader #neteyam x reader smut #neteyam smut #avatar the way of water #avatar neteyam #avatar x reader #avatar #avatar smut

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