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clbrq · 5 months

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STALKER — S. GOLBACH.

prompt; living alone in LA had its perks and downsides. on the positive side, you had all the freedom in the world and got to experience all the wonders of the city in your own time. however, when you have a stalker, it isn’t as fun. but, when you finally face the mysterious man—maybe he wasn’t so bad after all..

warnings; SMUT, stalker!sam, oral (receiving), very loving sex but also a bit rough at times, cursing/swearing, p in v sex, unprotected sex.

contains sensitive themes, MINORS DNI.

Tonight was no different.

Walking home from the bar, feeling tipsy and wobbling as you went—you felt like you were being watched. The street towards your house was dark, only lit up by the dim shine of the lamppost.

You stumbled over your own feet a few times, quietly giggling as you stabled yourself. Quickly turning around to check your surroundings, the empty street greeted you. Phew.

Turning around, however, erupted a different feeling within you. The figure of a man walking towards you sent shivers of fear down your spine as his dark outline was the only thing visible. Sucking in a breath, your heart rate quickened as he approached you—his hands stuffed into his pockets.

His face wasn’t clear—covered by a black mask with his hood up, paired with black sweatpants and bright white shoes. Not saying a word to you as he passed you, only flicking his eyes towards yours for you a moment.

The breath you didn’t even notice you were holding for so long released itself as he passed your vision. Thank god. Soon enough, you managed to make it to your house in one piece, the sensation of fear had long worn off.

Unlocking your door, you sighed as you locked it—feeling a small dose of safety as you trudged up the stairs towards your bedroom.

“Thank fuck he didn’t follow me home.” You mumbled to yourself, slipping off your heels and dress, and stumbling towards the bathroom.

As you turned on the shower and hopped in, your innocent little mind turned a blind eye to the man in all black with white shoes stood outside the gate to your house—watching your naked silhouette through the window as you washed yourself. His trousers tight against the hard-on begging to be freed as he stared at your figure.

His eyes never left your body as he watched you—not caring if the window was frosted over to hide your nakedness; he was just happy to even be this close to you. He was lucky you didn’t notice him while you drank and laughed with your friends as he sat at the bar. And even luckier when he took the other route to follow you home—making it look more nonchalant as he passed you.

He didn’t want to scare you, or make you uncomfortable. He just wanted to make sure you were safe—he wanted to protect you. He just loved you so much, he wouldn’t be able to live with himself if anything happened to you.

The next week or so, you still felt that same feeling, like someone’s prying eyes were on you constantly. Even when you drove to work a few days a week, you barely noticed the same Tesla following you behind you, and how it stayed in your parking lot all day until you left. You just assumed it was someone who worked at your building—it was a big company.

But, as you sat at the same bar on a busy Friday night, you caught on to whoever was making you feel like this.

Sat at a small circular table with your friends, your eyes slipped to the strangely familiar man sat at the bar, sipping what looked like Jack Daniels from a glass. You wouldn’t have thought twice about his presence until your eyes landed on his overwhelmingly white shoes. Your brain flicked back to last weekend as you walked home, the same man who passed you.

It’s just a coincidence, right?

“Penny for your thoughts?”

Snapping back into reality, you turned to face your friend who wore a comforting smile on her face, “Oh, nothing. Just thought I recognised that guy at the bar.” You told her, returning the smile.

Peering around you to see for herself, her eyes glided over his frame as she smirked, “He looks cute. You should go talk to him.”

“Absolutely not.” You chuckled, sipping your Margarita, “I think I saw him when I was walking home the other night. He looked a bit creepy.”

“Oh, you and your paranoia.” She joked, “It’s probably not the same guy—just go talk to him. Get out there!”

Feeling the alcohol course through your system, the thoughts of uncertainty washed away as you smiled, “Okay, fine. But the next round is on you.”

Laughing as she agreed, you rose from your seat and straightened out your dress, beginning to walk towards the mysterious man at the bar. As you approached the bar, you took a comfortable seat next to him, turning to face him as you offered him a sweet smile.

“Hi.” You started, meeting his bright blue eyes. You scanned over his face—he was gorgeous. He had luscious blonde hair that accentuated his ocean blue eyes, mixed with plump pink lips and perfectly clear skin. He was lean and fit—he was hot.

“Hey.” He replied, looking you up and down.

“What’s got you sat all alone at a bar?” You questioned, resting your chin in your hand as you peered up at him through your lashes.

A small smirk rose upon his face at your words, a chuckle leaving his lips, “Rough day at work, just looking for a nice drink to relax with.” He lied.

“Me too.” You replied, “Me and some friends always drink here after work. Just gets exhausting sometimes.”

“Exhausting being every week?”

“How do you know I come here every week?” You furrowed your eyebrows at his words, a sudden uncomfortable feeling crawling up your spine.

“Well you said you always come here, so I just assumed..” He trailed off, saving himself.

You laughed at yourself, “Sorry. I live alone so I’m always on edge.”

The man laughed, “You’re alright. Maybe you need another drink to loosen yourself up.”

“Another Margarita then, please.” You grinned, your cheeks flushing red at his actions. The blonde boy called the bartender over, ordering your drink and swiftly sliding a $10 bill over the counter.

“So, what do you do..”

“Y/N.”

“What do you do that’s so stressful, Y/N?” The boy asked, taking a sip of his drink.

“I work in marketing for social media. It’s tough, but it’s been my dream job for years.”

Silly, you. He already knew that.

“Oh, wow. That’s similar to what I do I suppose. I’m a manager for a social media star.” He lied, again.

“No kidding, who?” You asked, excitable.

As the two of you discussed careers and lifestyles, he listened to you carefully—nodding along as he pretended like he didn’t already know.

“Can I ask for your number?” The boldness of your tone excited him. Finally, he thought.

“Of course. I’m Sam, by the way.” Sam introduced, taking your phone from your hands as he typed his number in, “Are you doing anything tonight?”

Arousal pooled in your stomach at his suggestion. It had been months since you’d had sex—you wouldn’t say you were desperate, but you needed it badly.

Before you even knew it, you were quickly saying goodbye to your friends and following Sam out the door, hand in hand. Excitement bubbled inside you as you climbed into the passenger seat of his car as he opened the door for you.

“Are you sure you’re safe to drive?” You pondered, biting your lip.

“It’ll be fine, sweetheart.” He reassured, the nickname striking you in your in the stomach as butterflies bloomed.

Sam drove slowly and safely—not wanting to scare you or make you feel unsafe. Quiet music played in the background as you stayed silent, silently listening to it as he pulled up onto your street.

“How did you know where I lived?” You chuckled, nervously.

“You mentioned it at the bar, and I know this area pretty well. What number are you?” He brushed off, his voice convincing.

Telling him in a small voice, Sam pulled up outside your house, parking perfectly and stepping out the car. Sam rushed around to open your door once again, smiling sweetly at you as you thanked him.

You made your way inside your house—locking the door behind you as you led him upstairs to your bedroom. Sam could hardly wait. You shut your bedroom door as you turned to face him, walking up to him slowly as you placed your hands on his chest.

“I want you.” You whispered, batting your eyelids at him.

Sam almost fell to one knee and begged for your hand in marriage in that moment. But, instead, leaned down to connect your lips in a sensual kiss as he slid your dress off your body—leaving you topless and in your panties. Sam soon shrugged off his clothes, leaving him in only in his boxers as he kissed down your neck, marvelling in the way you whined when he suckled on your breasts.

Your hand flew to his hair as he placed on you to your bed, and kissed down your body towards your clothed pussy. Sam pulled your wet panties down your legs as he placed your legs on his shoulders.

“Fuck, you’re soaked.” He sighed, his breath hot against your sex. Biting your lip, your cheeks flushed red as he pecked your inner thighs—teasing you ever so slightly.

“Please, Sam.” You begged, your chest rising faster as the anticipation grew.

Sam almost came on the spot at hearing you moan his name. He was lucky enough to even talk to you—let alone being seconds away from eating your pussy. His cock was so hard it was beginning to hurt, he’d had a boner ever since you walked up to him.

Sam’s tongue lay flat against your clit as he lapped at your slick pussy. You moaned loudly as he sucked your clit, as his hand crawled up to slip two fingers inside your aching hole. You mewled his name as he continued to swarm pleasure throughout your body.

You’d had your fair share of men in the bedroom, but none of them compared to Sam so far. Little to none had made you feel this good, let alone make you on the brink of cumming after 30 seconds.

Sam repeatedly licked and suckled on your clit as his fingers curled to meet the sweet spot inside you. Your eyes rolled to the back of your head as the knot in your stomach snapped, cumming harshly on his tongue.

“Sam, oh god, Sam, don’t stop.” You whined, your back arching off the bed as you grasped his blonde locks in your hand as he never faltered his tricks while you came.

As you came down from your high, Sam rose from between your legs, standing up to pull down his boxers to release his large, hard cock from its restraints.

“You tasted better than I’d ever imagined.” Sam muttered, turning you onto your back carefully, and pulling your hips back to meet his.

Sam’s words went in one ear and out the other as he guided his cock gently inside you. You felt so full as he bottomed out, whines and whimpers falling past your lips as he quickly began moving his hips.

“Jesus fucking christ.” Sam groaned, his hands roughly holding onto your hips for dear life as he pounded into you, “Fuck me, you’re all I’ve ever wanted.”

“Harder, please!” You begged, wanting nothing more than to be ruined by the man behind you.

Sam quickly complied—wanting nothing more than to please you. He was lucky enough to make you cum with his tongue and now he was fucking you—he’d been waiting for this moment for months.

“God, you’re so tight. So perfect.” Sam mumbled behind you, his pace faultless as he fucked you into ecstasy.

He pulled out swiftly, though, flipping you back over as he wrapped your legs around his waist—sliding easily back into you as you soaked his throbbingly hard cock.

“Mm, fuck, Sam.” You blabbered, screwing your eyes shut as the arousal overwhelmed your body.

Sam’s head fell into the crook of your neck, “God, I can’t believe I’m fucking you.” He whined, “I’ve wanted you for so long—you have no idea how much I needed you.

“Wha..” You mumbled, the knot in your stomach once again building up he placed your legs on his shoulders, angling his cock to abuse the sensitive spot inside you.

You head lolled back as Sam pressed loving kisses to your collarbone, “I love you so fucking much, Y/N. I’ve never wanted anybody more.”

“What?” You spoke more clearly, your mind clearly confused, your body rebelling as Sam rubbed fast circles on your clit once again.

Sam’s rhythm picked up as he groaned into your shoulder, “Oh, yeah, Y/N. I love you, I love you, I love you.” He chanted as he filled you up deeply with his cum.

Your orgasm hit you like a train as Sam’s words rang with your mind. Not only was your body reacting perfectly normally to the pleasure Sam was bringing you, but your mind raced a mile a minute as images of walking home, driving to work and at the bar flashed in your brain.

It was him—this whole time.

As you, for the second time tonight, came down from your high, Sam pulled out of you, apologising as you winced. Words failed you as Sam laid next to you, cuddling up close to your body.

And as the thoughts of him stalking you flashed in your head, the feeling of your orgasm still flooded through your body—you didn’t care. Sam had made you feel better than any of guy you’d been with and he cared about you.

For an incredible fuck and endless amounts of love from Sam, you’d let his stalking tendencies go.

-/-

a/n: IVE FINALLY WRITTEN FOR SAM!!!

look at you getting two fics in two days

no i do not condone stalking this is purely fictional :)

@paymal7

@lovely-red2

@cam1ly

@morchilluv

@reem6806

@mysteriouslydeafeningwerewolf

@mattheoriddlemarcuslopez

@iwanttoberich420

@ilymusic27

@xosugardoll

@camille-1019

@nanascupid

@whicked-hazlatwhore

@samandcolby-ownme

@peachhiz

@theyloveniqueeeee

@m-maxie-ie

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lowkeyrobin · 1 month

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Platonic Phoebe and Trevor x Gary Grooberson’s teen kid reader and adjusting to being stepsiblings?

OH MY GOD YES BRO RJSKDMSNSN ; I did my best pls bare w this 💀💀💀

SPENGLER SIBLINGS ; stepsiblings

summary ; youre Gary's kid and you have to adjust with two new stepsiblings

warnings ; language

disclaimers ; your mom is nonexistent/Gary adopted you. it's not a topic brought up at all I don't think but you can choose, ik some people don't like kid of ___ reader or ____ sibling reader so beware lol, takes place between afterlife and frozen empire so no spoilers for anyone who hasn't watched gbfe yet, reader can drive/is around Trevor's age

word count ; 675

masterlist

it's so awkward at first

especially since you've never had siblings before so it's like they're teenage roommates

like okay your parents are dating or whatever but like, ew?

except you're living with them, not the other way around

both gary and callie are trying to urge you to interact but it's just not happening

you're not really a ghostbuster either, you aren't smart in the sciences and aren't into the whole ghost thing anyways

you're more into traditional ghosts anyways, not the ones that show up in broad daylight and need to be trapped by proton barriers

it's very rough at first

you connect with phoebe first, as a once in a blue moon experience happened, she wanted to act like a normal 14yo and go get ice cream

Callie couldn't take her because she was busy helping trevor with work stuff and told her to ask you

she was like 🤨 and like... "okay?-"

she asks and you look at her like 🤨😊

you guys go get ice cream and she tells you all about the shit you pass on the way there and back home

you surprisingly end up bonding over the struggle of talking to others like normal people and being well reserved with little to no friends

then comes the bonding over a certain book you both liked

the whole car ride home is oasis on the radio and chatter about this book, and going the longest possible way home because you didn't want this bonding moment to end

you sat in the car after phoebe got out, just sitting in silence

you were kind of in awe yet saddened the moment had ended because you were bonding so well

after that she clearly sees you in a new light and looks to you for your wisdom and clear view of the world when she's wrapped in her own madness and needs untangled

you were the trusting older sibling she needed since trevor never really understood the proper being there for your sister thing

they're proper siblings and whatnot but it's not like they go to each other if it's not to shit talk people

you're like their mediator and therapist sibling

getting through to trevor was much harder

you ended up finding him a job and he was like 🤨😒 when you showed him

"oh- uhm, sorry. I was just trying to be nice" and you quickly scramble away

he's just confused cause like ??? you never talked, he didn't even know how you knew he was looking for a job

he comes into your room a couple hours later like "Hey sorry I acted all weird, thanks"

and that's it

bonding with him is so hard, and Gary and Callie are like "okay go fucking do something"

you're all (spengler-groobersons + podcast bc phoebe needed a friend her age) out at an amusement park, and these mfs ditched yall at the carousel next to the bathrooms

and they weren't picking up their phones

you were basically forced to interact now, which was much less awkward in an amusement park

you guys ride some rides and get some food as you frequently call your parents

you finally find them, phew

but you two obviously made a little friendship and had fun together

took a little longer to get used to each other but you're fine now

awkward teenager shit yk?

in general, the three of you now are super close

trevor is your hype man when it comes to talking to people or doing something out of your comfort zone

phoebe is your hype man when you talk to her about maybe wanting to be a ghostbuster / study ghosts

you're the driver for the three of you, callie doesn't trust Trevor with driving, considering how he was driving the ecto1 when he first got it usable again, and obviously, phoebe can't drive

after a few years you're basically just like normal siblings

you three have a sibling group chat and it's 90% you sending memes, Trevor sending random tik tok links and phoebe begging you two to stop blowing up her phone

spenglerson siblings 🔛🔝

#lowkeyrobin #ghostbusters frozen empire #ghostbusters afterlife #ghostbusters x reader #trevor spengler x reader #trevor spengler #spengler siblings #gn reader #gender neutral reader #they/them reader #phoebe spengler #phoebe spengler x reader

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ro-written · 11 months

Text

Take a Ride - K.Y

Tags/Warnings: phew boy…18+ ONLY! MDNI! AT ALL! SMUT. There’s definitely plot there, biker!yeosang, no pronouns really used for reader but there are feminine pet names, very light alcohol drinking, heavy making out, fluff, I barely reread and edited this sorry

Smut Tags: exhibitionism (sex on a motorcycle), oral sex (reader receiving), p in v sex, reader has a coochie, pet names towards reader (pretty girl, good girl, baby, doll), fingering, begging, grinding, scratching, PROTECTED SEX, Yeo’s got a big dick, Yeo keeps his condoms in his wallet (don't do that lmao), love at first fuck(???)

Word Count: 5.6k

Playlist:

“Fly - FKJ Remix” by June Marieezy “Body Language” by Doja Cat “Harley’s in Hawaii” by Katy Perry “Pink + White” by Frank Ocean

Being able to vacation days off from work was difficult, especially in your profession. So when it was offered to you by your supervisor, you agreed without hesitation. As soon as you got home, you messaged your best friend. You had both talked about having a little vacation and going to an island, away from the hustle and bustle of your usual lives, and taking in all the more tropical views that you never got to experience living in a city. That same night you had your bags packed and plane tickets booked for the next morning.

The Airbnb your friend had chosen was stunning. The backdoor opened up directly to the sight of the ocean and the trees surrounding the view. The window in your room offered a similar view. As soon as you opened it, a breeze filled the space, bringing in the salty smell of the ocean with it. It made your shoulders relax a bit, eyes closed as the heat of the sun refreshingly warmed your face. For once you weren’t thinking of all the work that sat waiting for you, or anything that was on your to-do list. You were instead listening to the birds chirping, the waves crashing against the rocks nearby, the leaves on the trees brushing against each other with every waft of wind.

After a few minutes of standing there and swaying gently back and forth with the wind, your friend finally knocked on your door.

“Hello hello,” they peeked their head around to make sure you weren’t occupied. You smiled and waved them in, going to sit on the bed.

“What’s up?”

“Well…there’s this bar nearby that I believe is calling out our names. Wait–” they gasped before grabbing your arm. “Can you hear that? It was just there!” You rolled your eyes at their ever-dramatic antics.

“So you wanna go drinking when it’s,” you shifted to look at the clock on your phone. “It just turned 3:10.” They nodded back excitedly, grin wide on their face.

“And we can get shitfaced and go walking on the beach that’s right outside our doorstep during the sunset!”

…It all did sound very tempting. You mulled it over as your friend sat next to you, bouncing up and down in anticipation. You finally nodded, coming to the conclusion that you were on your own time, not needing to hold back from enjoying yourself. They flung their arms around your neck before getting up and running to go change.

—

For it being a Friday, the building was surprisingly barely busy. There were a few people here and there, drinking and either talking to someone or watching whatever the bar had on TV. You and your friend grab a corner booth. After writing down your order, your friend went to the bar to get your drinks from the bartender. It was then that you heard motorcycle rumbles from outside the building, and through the very tiny window, you could see two bikes parking in one spot. Both people on the bikes got off, and one immediately took his helmet off. He was a bit taller than the other one and had short black hair and a sharp nose. The second motorcyclist had been in the middle of unclipping his helmet when your friend suddenly appeared at your side.

“Here you go! I got a double shot for mine but yours is just the regular amount. I didn’t know how hard you were going tonight.” They said with a smile. Your attention was brought back to the drink they had set in front of you on the small napkin. It was a deep red color and while it had a strong smell, it wasn’t unpleasant.

“Thank you so so much, I owe you one.” You smile at them as you use the tiny black straw to taste the drink, dubbed “The Icey Crab” on the menu. Corny, but the drink is damn good.

At that moment, the two motorcyclists you saw before swung the door to the bar open. The taller one walked in first, leather pants and boots appearing before the rest of him. He stepped in and to the side, as the other biker came in. The other one, the one you didn’t get a chance to see take his helmet off, was…gorgeous, to say the least. His face looked as if it had been carved from marble. There was a slight dark mark on the side of his face and it accentuated his beautiful eyes. His long dark hair framed his face perfectly. Not to mention his arms. His muscle tank allowed his muscular triceps to be on display. And you were certainly taking it in.

“Hey.” Your friend snapped their fingers in front of your face, bringing you back to what they had been saying. Their eyes followed yours over to where the two men had come in and were setting themselves up at the bar.

“Ahh, I see how it is then. Which one were you eyeing?” They smirked and nudged you repeatedly, making you lightly hit their arm and roll your eyes. “I’m going to guess it’s the long-haired one? Definitely your type.”

“Please, I don’t have a type.” Their eyebrows shot up at you over the glass held to their lips.

“Don’t just lie like that, I’ve known you for way too long.” They giggled, eyes going back over to the two men. One of them, the taller one, seemed to look right over at your table at that exact moment, catching your friend’s eye. They grinned and raised their glass in greeting the new man. He returned it back, smirking as he said something to his long-haired friend who was simply sipping on his drink and seemed startled when the tall one spoke. He too followed his friend's view over to your booth, and his eyes landed on you.

“Well, I think I’ve snagged his friend, if you want alone time with him, yeah?” They said as they looked back at you, excitement glimmering in their eyes as they downed the rest of their drink.

“And what happened to us headed to have a little drunk walk on the beach?” You crossed your arms over your chest, a smile on your lips as your voice stayed playful.

“Well, we can do that any other night, right? We have some vacation days, let’s really use them.” They wiggled their eyebrows at you, making you let out a laugh. You see a figure approach the table from the corner of your eye, something you could only assume belonged to the tall man at the bar. You brought your drink up to your lips to hide your smile, as your friend stared at you in amusement.

“Hi,” the tall man’s deep voice seized your friend’s eyes from you. “I couldn’t help but notice your drink was empty.” Your friend looked down at the glass in fake surprise, as if they hadn’t realized what they were doing. Even though they knew exactly what they were doing. It was a tactic they used quite frequently, emptying their glass and waiting for whoever they had been eye-fucking to buy them a new drink.

“I didn’t even notice, how astute.” They smiled at him and raised their glass up in front of his face.

“Maybe we can change that?” His eyebrow quirked as he lightly grabbed the glass.

“Sounds like a deal…?”

“Park Seonghwa,” He introduced himself and looked over at you for the first time, giving you a smile. Almost as a sign of good intentions, ensuring you he didn’t plan on doing anything of ill will towards them. You nodded and looked at your friend, who stared at you. You both had each other’s location tracker on and you knew they had protective measures.

“Alright, Mr. Park, let’s see if you can guess my favorite drink.”

The two of them walked away, and you watched with a smile, feeling glad that your friend could find something to distract them. You knew how busy they had been with their job and family. It was rare for them to go out anymore. If anyone needed time to be a little irresponsible, it was definitely them.

“So, your friend fell for the ‘Your glass is empty’ line?”

A deep voice startled you out of your thoughts, and you looked at the man standing next to your booth’s table. It was the other biker, the one who had come with Seonghwa. His attention on you made your face burn, and it took you a few seconds to realize what he had said.

“Well, your friend fell for the ‘Oh, my glass is empty?’ bit. Maybe they were made for each other.” You smiled at the long-haired man as he laughed, looking down at the table for a second. His smile was very pretty, especially with how his eyes curved when his cheeks pushed up. His black hair fell into his face, and some impulse within you wished to reach out and push them back.

“Maybe they were.” He looked over his shoulder to the two of them at the bar, laughing about something. You could see a vein popping out in his neck, running all the way down to his broad chest. He was definitely your type, your friend was right. Especially with the way his hands looked as they rested on the table. Fuck it, if they’re gonna have fun tonight, I am too.

“I’m Y/N.” His eyes came back to you as you stuck your hand out in greeting. He took it, a jolt going through you at the feeling of his skin.

“Yeosang.”

Once he sat down on the other side of the rounded booth, the two of you spent hours talking about various things. What brought you to the island, what kinds of jobs you both did (he was a mechanic), what towns you lived in, what town you originally came from, et cetera. He was very interesting, not to mention very intelligent, and while he seemed reserved initially, he slowly opened up to show a more comedic side. The two of you had almost completely forgotten to check on your friends until Seonghwa came by to let Yeosang know that he and your friend were headed out. You gave your friend a good once over, making sure they weren’t shitfaced and still coherent. Relieved to find them acting their usual self, you had no reservations about letting them head out without you.

As soon as they were both out the door, you watched through the window as they climbed on the back of Seonghwa’s motorcycle, putting his helmet on. Yeo laughed at his friend, apparently trying to “act cool.”

“There are times when he struggles to even talk to someone, but then there’s moments where he’s got massive game. I don’t even know how I keep up with him.” You smiled as he kept on talking about his friend, the genuine fondness showing through his words. Something about how he talked about Seonghwa was so deeply endearing. It made your heart flutter a little in your chest.

Your talks kept up as more people filtered into the bar, creating a hotter and stuffier atmosphere. He inched closer and closer to you, both of you struggling to hear the other as more voices came into the building, and the music got louder. After a while, you two just looked at each other and laughed, finding it ridiculous. You couldn’t help but notice, however, just how close he was. Merely inches apart as he leaned into your ear.

“I think we should head out.”

—

Yeosang parked the motorcycle right in a hidden clearing, taking your hand and bringing you to the edge of a cliff a few feet from the bike. You looked over it, deciding that if he was a murderer, he really wouldn’t have been able to kill you with the drop. Sure, maybe some bruises or a scratch, a bit of muscle ache, but definitely not death.

“I’m not trying to murder you, you know,” he lets out with a low chuckle, reading your mind. “I just wanna show you my favorite view out here. Especially with the sun setting. You have to wait a few more minutes, but it’s so worth it.” He smiles brightly at you, and you couldn’t help but look at how the light from the lowering sun made his skin glow. You smiled back, watching as he walked back to his bike to lean against it, his toned legs stretched out in front of him, arms crossed and showing off his muscular build. He patted the spot next to him, beckoning you over. You obliged, leaning your body against the seat of the bike, arms brushing his as he stared out at the view and watched the different birds crossing over the water.

You struggled to look at the view, eyes constantly straying over to him and his face, the birthmark next to his eye standing out. It took your restraint to keep from listening to your impulsive thoughts to reach out and trace it.

You wanted to brush back his long black hair to get a better view of it, maybe even gather it up in your hand. That brought on a new wave of thoughts, ones that included your grip on his hair, pushing him in between your legs, eyes closed as he–

“It’s impolite to stare you know.”

Your face burned as you turned away towards the ocean, eyes looking downwards. His chuckle reverberated into your chest. Out of the corner of your eye, you could see him look over at you, one eyebrow raised and a smirk gracing his face. He managed to look both devilish and angelic at the same time, a feat you never realized could be done before.

“Sorry, just…lost in thought.”

“It’s okay, pretty girl. Maybe you should take a picture next time, hm?” His smile widened a bit after that, and you rolled your eyes, even though the smile playing at your lips contradicted the movement. The water crashed against the shore, providing background noise surrounding the two of you. You had expected him to have turned his attention back to the shifting sunset, but you could still see him focused on you.

You tried to ignore his eyes piercing you, dragging down the length of your body. His tongue peeked out behind his lips, swiping over them in a way you wished to do. Gathering your thoughts that melted all together you slightly turned your head toward him, eyebrow raised.

“You don’t practice what you preach?” You bit out. Something in the way he smiled tossed your stomach in a way not unpleasant. His eyes kept shifting between your eyes down to your lips, eventually losing the battle and fixating themselves on the way you brought your bottom lip into your mouth to lightly bite at it.

“Why don’t you let me do that, hm?” Was the only thing he said before a hand reached out to grab the side of your face. He gave you a chance to pull back, and as soon as he realized you didn’t plan to, he leaned in. You sharply sucked air in, his lips brushing gently over yours as your eyes fluttered closed. After what felt like minutes of building anticipation, he pressed himself against you. Both hands grasped at your face as he deepened the kiss, tongue lightly swiping at your lips.

Maybe it was the one drink in your system, or maybe it was the way your body felt like it craved every possible touch from him, but you let him take complete control. His body pushed you against the seat of his bike, his hands coming down to either side of you to cage you in. This time your hands came up to grab either side of his face, your body pressing into him as if you could get any closer. His hips moved into yours a little, wanting to show you the effects you already had on him. He was strained against his pants, gently rocking into you to find some sort of relief. It made you grin a bit against his mouth, knowing how much power you had over this man you only met a few short hours ago.

His mouth left yours to start trailing against your jaw and down your neck. He sucked harder in some areas that you knew would leave sensitive purple marks in the morning. It was when he reached down the base of your neck under your ear that you let out a sound that fell between a sharp sigh and a squeak. At this, he smiled into your neck, lapping at the spot before gently nipping at it.

“I love your sounds, pretty girl,” he noted before continuing around the column of your neck. It was agonizing, wanting him to finally get to where you truly needed him. You whined as his hand moved to your thigh, slowly starting to make progress toward your core.

“Yeo please–” He hushed you as you started to plead.

“I’m gonna make sure you get what you need, baby. Patience.”

The hand on your thigh came back up to wrap around your waist, gripping so tight that you were sure bruises would form in the shape of his fingers later. Your hands made their way into his hair, lightly gripping the strands and tugging a bit to encourage him to move faster. His eyes fluttered closed and the deep groan that came out of him made you clench around nothing. How could someone make such a sinfully beautiful sound like that?

His eyes opened and it felt like they were staring into the very depths of you. Something dark and exhilarating floated in his pupils, sending a shiver through you as his hands gripped you impossibly tighter, arms flexing in the loose muscle tank.

“Lean back on my bike, doll.” His voice had dropped several octaves and it reverberated in your body, nodding as you listened to his instructions. You place both hands on either side of your body as you lean your weight backward, allowing him to move to the waistband of your jeans and undo the buttons and zipper. Pushing both your pants and underwear down, you kicked them off over your sneakers. As he watched, he caught a glimpse of the damp spot on your underwear and smiled.

“We’ve barely done anything baby.” Your face burned as you rolled your eyes, trying to not fold under his charms.

“Whate– shit.” His fingers cut off your rebuttal as they lightly skimmed over your slit, humming in mockery of your reaction. Your head tilted back as your hips moved up, a futile attempt at trying to get him to press just a little harder. He refused to put any more pressure besides gentle brushes, occasionally nudging your clit when you move your hips just right. His feather-light touches drew out small whimpers from you as you endeavored to keep most of your sounds in.

After what felt like forever, he moved his hand away, making your head dizzy at the sudden shifting. Before you could complain, he was sinking to his knees, gloved hands grabbing your thighs to bring them on his shoulders, shifting your weight around so you were fully reliant on both him and his bike. One of your hands came up to grab his hair on instinct, gripping it between your fingers.

His breath ghosted over your wet lips, making you shiver and tighten your hold on his scalp. The tip of his nose rubbed along your slit, causing you to buck your hips again into him. You looked down, mouth opening to complain about his teasing. However, the sight below you distracts from the whine that had been at your tongue. Yeosang’s eyes meet yours, half-closed in a drunken state. He somehow looked even more ethereal this way, his senses completely filled with just you.

“Please” was all you could muster out. He nodded his head, understanding your plea, and his tongue came out to separate your folds, licking up the wetness he had thoroughly spread. Your body felt as if had simultaneously relaxed from the end of his initial teasing, as well as tensed up from the sensations he gave. His tongue flicked against your clit, making you jolt upwards in surprise. You felt his tongue circle around your clit before he began to suck it into his mouth gently, tongue going back and forth over it. Your stomach tightened up, your grip on his hair pushing him more into you. He hummed at the pressure, causing ripples of pleasure to roll through you.

He released your clit to move downwards, his tongue dipping into your cunt and curving up. Your other hand, the one not in his hair, came up to cover your mouth from releasing the long moan on the verge of slipping out. He continued dipping his tongue in you and flicking up, making it harder and harder to keep your noises in. Your thighs clenched around his head, and his fingers tightened to help keep you steady.

He leaned back a bit from you, allowing you to have a deep breath as you clenched around nothing. You looked at how his mouth shined from your slick, a smile gracing his features as he took a second to breathe. One of his hands released your thigh, and using his nails he lightly grazed across your skin until his hand was at your entrance.

“Is this okay, doll?” He looked up at you with concerned eyes, checking to ensure you were okay. You smile and nod, thumb rubbing his scalp and pushing some of his hair back. He nodded with you, and slowly pushed two fingers into you, allowing you to adjust to the thickness. Your eyes fluttered closed, focusing on the way his fingers opened you. It had been a while since you had anything other than yourself inside you, so the stretch was a welcome burn.

“Breathe.” He gently whispered, making you realize you had been holding your breath the entire time. Your inhale was a bit wobbly, but you finally exhaled and relaxed around him.

“Good girl.”

His fingers started to move, not fully leaving out of you before they were pushed back in again. He curled them upwards, looking for something inside you.

“I need…please…faster,” you shakily managed to get out. He huffed out a light chuckle, and you looked down at him through hooded eyes.

“My baby is so good at begging.”

His fingers picked up their pace, leaving you to struggle to catch your breath. Eventually, he found what he was looking for, as your back arched when he prodded at one spot within you. With your eyes closed, you sensed him pause and move below you, before feeling his mouth suck your clit in again. The new sensation, along with the continuous pressing on the sensitive area in you, had you unable to hold back your moans. Your senses were completely overwhelmed in the best way possible. And the pressure in your stomach started to build more and more with every hit of his fingers.

“Is my pretty girl gonna cum for me?” His voice rocked through you, not letting up his movements. Your eyebrows furrowed as your eyes closed tightly. It was too much to try to hold back and with a few final movements, both hands flew to his head. You held him as close as you could, the pressure on your clit not stopping as you clenched tightly around his fingers.

He could hear you call his name as you finished, and it didn’t do anything to help the pressure in his pants. But he knew that if either of you wanted to move to that, you’d have to take at least one more finger to prepare. So as you came down with deep breaths, he pulled off you. Your head was still spinning as he kissed your inner thighs, bringing you back down.

“I want you in me, Yeo,” you managed out. You could see how much he was straining against his pants, and you wanted to help relieve some pressure for the both of you. His smile was soft and endearing, a switch from the man who just gave you a transcending orgasm.

“I know baby, I want to. But we need to prepare you just a bit more for that, okay?” His words took a moment to process. You thought you had prepared to take him, but as he slowly started to push three fingers in, you realized that you might have trouble walking tomorrow.

“Oh shit,” was all that came out, as the stretch made your eyes roll back. All the pain was masked under the slight overstimulation you felt. It was almost too much, but you desperately wanted to feel all of him in you, and if this is what it took to get there, then you wouldn’t complain.

It wasn’t an unusual feeling, you had experimented with three fingers before, but having someone else do it was what made you dizzy. Especially when his fingers were already so thick, it was more of a stretch than you were typically able to give yourself.

You took a breath, trying to relax around him. It was difficult though, as you kept clenching every time he moved back in. Watching as you sucked him in again repeatedly had him almost drooling. He couldn’t help from going back in, attaching himself to your already abused clit. It made your eyes jerk open in surprise. It made it even more difficult to relax, as you gripped him rhythmically.

“Yeosang, please!” Your voice cried out like music in his ears. He could feel the way your thighs shook around his head, tightening more and more from his attack. He knew he couldn’t hold on any longer, and just as your eyebrows started to furrow up again, he pulled away. His fingers left you, and he watched in a trance as you fluttered around nothing. A whine was pulled out of your mouth, bringing him back to you.

Gently placing your thighs off his shoulders for a moment, he stood, reaching into his back pocket for his wallet. Out of it he grabbed a condom and placed the wrapper in his mouth. He quickly grabbed his shirt off, then unbuckled his belt, undid his pants, and hastily pushed them down with his boxers, kicking them off to the side.

Your mouth involuntarily dropped open. That’s definitely why he wanted me to have three. His dick hit his stomach as he focused on putting the condom on. To say he was well endowed would be an understatement, and you were starting to wonder if he shouldn’t have possibly used four fingers to open you up a bit more. It made your mouth water a bit at the idea of having that stretch you out. You had yet to have a partner with such a gift as Yeosang has, and you were quite excited to see if he knew how to use it.

He gripped your thighs again, putting them around his hips. One hand stayed holding a leg while the other grabbed around your waist. His dick rubbed between your folds as he slightly ground into you. With every motion upwards it caught on your clit, dragging along and making you cling to his shoulders.

“You still okay with this? We can stop now if you want.” It made your heart skip hearing him. He was being considerate, even with how much he was definitely holding himself back from ramming into you. His teeth were clenched, his jaw tense and defining his jawline. He’s so fucking beautiful.

“Yes, Sangie.” The nickname rolled off your tongue without a second thought, and it made you both stop and look into each other’s eyes. Something within his chest twisted hearing the way you said his name. And seeing you this way…it was something he knew he needed more of.

Your teeth caught your lip, looking down to watch how his girth spread your lips apart.

“What did I say about letting me do that.” He leaned down towards your face and kissed you. Your eyes fluttered shut at the touch of his soft lips against yours again. Your entire face felt tingly, allowing him to take over control of the kiss. As he pulled away, he bit down gently on your bottom lip, pulling it out slightly before letting it go. And as he rest his forehead against yours to look into your eyes, he finally adjusted his hips to slip in you.

The stretch was almost unbearable. Almost. You were beyond thankful that he prepared you thoroughly. And between your first orgasm and the heated makeout session you two had, you were virtually drenched with desire and need.

He stilled as he completely bottomed out. The feeling of him filling you up completely was overwhelming in the best way possible. Every sense was completely overtaken by the need for more of him. His taste, his smell, his touch. All of it. And after a while, you moved your hips to try to get him to continue.

“Move…please move.” You looked through your eyelashes at him, giving him your best pleading eyes. And looking at how pretty your eyes were in this scenario, it took him all he could to keep from pounding away. He slowly left your body, not fully taking himself out before thrusting hard into you. The movement jolted your body along with the bike under you, and he continued with the pace and force he wanted to use.

You brought a hand up to bite, an attempt at keeping your moans in at the feeling of being so full. He moved his hand from your thigh to grab at your hand muffling your sounds, pulling it away from your mouth and placing it on his chest, before he returned his hand back to your thigh.

“I want…I need to hear my pretty girl,” he groaned out, punctuating his words with particularly hard thrusts causing moans to spill out. You felt him twitch inside you with every sound drawn out of you. “Can you feel what your pretty noises do to me, baby? You sound so beautiful.”

Your nails dug into his skin, running across his chest and grabbing his biceps. Red streaks followed your fingers, and you felt his hard biceps ripple every time he pulled you onto him. His strength only served to turn you on more, clenching around his length. That erupted a deep groan from his chest, an enchanting sound that you would definitely keep engrained in your memory.

The coil in your stomach tightened more with each thrust. You knew you needed just a little bit more, something to truly tip you over the edge. You took one of your hands off his upper arms and moved to circle your clit. That was it. You were thrown over your precipice as your eyes rolled back into your head. All you could think was Yeosang, Yeosang, Yeosang.

He watched as your back arched into him, chest pressing against his as he slowed down a bit, letting you ride your waves. You eventually came back down, eyes hazy and glazed over. The slow drags of his cock helped to ride out the aftershocks. Your body fell limp into him.

Yeosang eventually started to pick up the pace, the dazed look in your eyes spurring him on. His low moans in your ear signaled the nearing of his end. His thrusts became sporadic as his grip tightened impossibly more on your thigh. He was using you to get off now and it made a rush of heat fill your body. His hair fell in front of his face, his eyes shut tightly as he focused on his own pleasure.

“Cum, Sangie. I wanna see you cum, please please please.” You whined into his ear, the overstimulation of his continual pace causing every nerve in your body to be lit on fire. Your nails dug deeper into his shoulders, and they made their way to his back, dragging angry red lines across the expanse. You felt how his cock twitched at that, and a deep groan emanated from his throat. There it is. You kept dragging your nails across his back feeling as his pace started to lose its rhythm. And finally, with one last deep moan, he stilled in you, his face buried deep in your neck.

You felt his breath fanning across your neck, your eyes blinking shut at the sensation. It all felt truly perfect. His deep breaths in your ear, the feeling of being so full of him, his body weight resting slightly on yours, arm around your waist keeping you close to him, the smell of the ocean and your bodies mixed. He slowly started pressing delicate kisses down your neck and into your shoulder, causing a shiver to wrack through your body.

“That was…that was really good,” he giggled in his deep voice. You nodded, not trusting your voice just yet. He moved away from your neck to look down at you and your blissed-out face. He swore he could stay like this forever, watching as the light from the sunset cast beautiful colors onto your skin, giving you a glow.

And then your eyes opened to meet him again, and something about the way you smiled at him made him realize that this was not just a one-time thing.

~~~

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netherfeildren · 11 months

Text

Someone's Wife in the Boat of Someone's Husband .4

Series Masterlist : Moodboard

(Joel Miller x F!Reader)

Content Warnings: Mutual masturbation; Come eating; Angst; Vague mention of abortion; Discussions of child neglect; Discussions of unwanted pregnancy

Rating: Explicit 18+

A/N: Some of this is so… phew… idk what came over me or how i come up with some of this shit. sorry (but not really). Joel’s a little nasty in this beware

Art is by Denis Sarazhin.

Word Count: 7.7K

Read on AO3

A single person is missing for you, and the whole world is empty.

Joan Didion, The Year of Magical Thinking

To think that despite his momentary acquiescence to your need for space, he was not, afterwards, made into a raving, snarling beast prowling its cage after having tasted you, would be fallacy – because that was what he was calling it in his mind, for now. Not yet ready to accept it within himself as a full blown rejection, so yes, for now, space, time.

He returns home with Sarah after the lakehouse – Eva gone off with her girlfriends on an extension of the weekend, wanting to draw out the farewell to summer just a little longer – to their routine of lunches and snacks and daycare and evenings playing mermaids and dinosaurs in the little pool in the backyard that he’d gotten for her at HEB. He tries to be good, to remain calm, controlled, but it’s just short of impossible. He feels as though he still has the taste of you on the surface of his tongue, the sounds of your moans ringing in his ears at all hours of the day, in bed at night, hard and aching and alone, wanting you. This turns out to be a different type of hell to the one he’s usually used to, that of monotony and loneliness and resentment. No, this is burning and painful, a type of fire that whips through his arteries and chars his bones and leaves him dizzy and disoriented.

He’s never experienced something like this before. Not in his entire life.

It is not easy, per se, but productive, to lose himself in his work, and the start of Sarah’s school year. She’s in a 3K program for the fall, her first time going to a real school, and the work and preparation and pure fucking anxiety induced at the thought of his baby going to such a big school is overwhelming. No small feat to accomplish all on his own.

But at night, after he’s worked himself into the ground all day, and read Sarah her bedtime story, at least three times, sometimes up to seven, but never passing ten, that was their very strict rule, and tucked her in and checked the closet and under the bed and behind the door for monsters, when he’s finally found himself alone and quiet and with a spare, but infinitely painful moment to think of you, he lets you in, in full force.

He pulls his shirt up over the back of his head, tossing it into the hamper as he passes his closet into his restroom, undoes his belt and jeans, pulling his contraband from the pocket, to push them off as he reaches to turn on the shower.

As he lets the water heat up, he pauses to look at himself in the mirror. Tall, long frame, still pleasing to a woman, he’d imagine. Well, he hopes so. He’s still strong, his shoulders broad, his chest built from the long hours of hauling and climbing and exhaustive physical labor. There are a few grays threaded through the dark curls at his temples. Sprouting, just in the last year, to remind him that he’s getting older. One of his buddies had told him that eventually everything went gray, everything. That weirded the fuck out of him, to be honest. He hates the thought of you seeing that, thinking of him as old. You’re so much younger than him. So pretty. Too pretty. His middle has gone slightly softer since hitting forty, but only slightly. There’s no helping that. And the small creases at the corners of his eyes… shit, he’s getting old. But his cock is still long and thick, and he’ll give that to you as much as you’ll let him. If you ever let him. All the time if he can. All he has to do is find a way to see you again, to convince you to let him see you again.

He feels a small bitter ribbon of self consciousness curl through his stomach as he takes himself in. He doesn’t want you to think of him as some old man. Some old, sleazy man who’d seen you and been so fucking desperate for you, he hadn’t cared that he was married, that you’re too young for him, that he has a family, and responsibilities and a life, like some pathetic fucking pervert. You’re just so lovely, so soft and pretty and you smell so good, always. And he’s been so alone for so fucking long. He is lonely. And you, you’d looked at him, you’d seen him, you’d wanted him back just as fiercely as he’d wanted you, even if just for a moment. How was he ever supposed to be strong enough to resist that? And further than your wanting, you’re good and kind and smart and so fucking funny and adorable. Joel could be strong when he needed to be, but he could also be weak, and he thinks that you, perhaps, have the power to make him weaker than anything else.

What do you do when you meet a woman, have a child, get married, and then find the person who you could very well fall, probably, very deeply in love with?

Because yes, even now, he is emotionally aware enough to recognize that. More than anything, he can recognize that he has, as of yet, never been in love, but that you present the great, great possibility for that. And yes, it’s too soon, and maybe nonsensical or crazy or what have you, but Joel has always been a man that’s known himself well. When he knows, he knows, and when he chooses, he chooses, and he is very close to knowing and choosing you.

He looks down at your panties laying on the bathroom counter – the ones he’d stolen. After you’d slipped them off, too wet from your come, from him making you come – they’re his now.

He runs his thumb and forefinger along the silk lace at the edge. They’re a pretty, soft blue. He loves the color blue now. It will, forevermore, be his favorite color after this. The cut in the back is high, he knows the soft flesh of your ass was left mostly uncovered by them, he remembers he felt it when you rode his thigh. He wishes he could have seen it. He hopes he’ll have another chance to see it.

If he thinks about it hard enough, he can imagine that the middle gusset is still damp from you. He brings them to his face, presses them to his nose and inhales deeply. The scent: still faintly musky, but also, slightly sweet. He sticks his tongue out to taste the fabric, and a violent shiver passes through him. He has to clutch at the countertop to hold himself upright. His cock is fully erect and leaking now.

He has to taste you. He has to get the chance to. He’ll die if he doesn’t. He’s sure of it.

He brings the soft lace down to his aching erection. He doesn’t care if he’s disgusting. He doesn’t care about anything. All he wants is to feel you. To temper this fire churning in his blood. He can’t remember the last time his body felt like this, the last time he wanted something this fucking badly he felt like he’d die if he didn’t have it. Maybe never – he doesn’t think he’s ever felt like this. He wraps your panties around his hard length and starts to jack himself off. Strong, tight strokes from base to tip with the tiny, blue silk sliding along his fevered skin. The sound of your orgasm, the look in your eyes as you humped his thigh, ground your little clit on him and soaked his denim. He should’ve touched you more when he had the chance. He wants to fuck you so badly, wants to sink into the tight, wet clutch of your cunt and fuck you full of his come. Mark you. Brand himself into your skin so that you’re never without him. He wants you to smell like him. He wants to feel the wet gush he felt on his jeans on his cock and dripping down his balls, and Jesus fucking Christ, he comes at that. Long, thick ropes of white spend, spitting from his swollen tip at the thought of your pussy coming around him, a desperate whimper escaping in the quiet loneliness of his restroom.

He thinks of you constantly, what seems like every moment of the day, in the weeks that follow. As much as he tries to keep a straight head on, he can’t. He craves you, dreams of you, fucks his hand to the memory of you coming for him, spilling his seed over and over again in the shower at the remembered look in your eyes and the sounds you made for him. He can’t help himself.

Outside of that, everything else in his life is bleak and slow and… and he doesn’t know what else to call it, except for sad and wanting. Lonely. To have touched something so alive, so beautiful and sweet and perfect, and then be forced to return to the barren landscape that is his life in everything outside of his daughter, it’s jarringly difficult to do. He wants to be strong, to do what you asked of him, but it had been so long since he’d really wanted something for himself. Couldn’t remember what the last thing had been, really, and so to now have something to desire, something to want and think of, it makes him weak and fills his head with all kinds of excuses to see you, to call you – he’d forced Tommy to steal your number for him out of Gerri’s phone – to go to your work and wait for you to come out, just so he can catch a single glimpse of you.

He restrains himself from that, though. He forces himself to focus his mind on other things, Sarah and school and playdates, and he works himself like a dog, taking on more contracts than he ever has before. He doesn’t give himself any time to rest, any time to think, and in the few moments that he does, when he stares at your number on the screen of his phone, imagining what it is he’d say to you if he called, if you answered, what the sound of your voice would be like saying hello to him, saying his name, or in the moments when he fucks himself raw and spent and sad, those are the moments when he feels weakest, when he feels most alone, when he’s almost overwhelmed with wanting.

He only lasts a measly three weeks after the lake house before he’s outside of the elementary school, one late Wednesday afternoon during the second week of the new school year. The sky is dark and angry, on the verge of a downpour, and he’s been waiting, agitated and anxious, for about half an hour, before you finally come out the double doors.

The lightest sprinkling of rain is starting up, and he jumps out of his truck’s cab, jacket in hand, to approach you. He says your name softly as he comes up on your side while you’re distracted, digging in your purse for something.

You jump slightly at the sound of his voice and turn your wide, worried eyes on him, “Joel–” your voice, soft and breathy, so sweet, “Is everything okay? What are you doing here? Is Sarah okay?”

He holds his hands up in what he hopes is an appeasing, non-threatening gesture, he doesn’t want you nervous. Fucking Christ, asking for Sarah with that look of worry in your eyes, “Everything’s fine, sweetheart,” how in the fuck is he supposed to not be obsessed with you? “I was just – I was just hoping we could talk, is all.”

You look around at the sparsely filled parking lot, as if searching for witnesses, or perhaps, an escape, but then you turn back to him and pause to take him in. He watches the sweep of your eyes down his body, and then back up, stopping to search for something in his eyes. Whatever you find there must give you the answer you need because you nod your head once, “Alright, we can talk,” you say softly.

“My truck? Can we drive for a bit? I’ll bring you back.” You nod again, and he drapes his jacket over your shoulders to protect you from the drizzle as he leads you to his truck. “S’bout to come down hard,” he murmurs as he opens the passenger door for you, taking your wrist in his hold to help you up into the truck. He can’t help himself, he reaches for your seatbelt and buckles you in himself – is filled with an obscenely embarrassing fizz of pleasure at the gesture of it.

You’re looking at him with the most concerned little frown marring the soft spot between your delicate brows, “Are you okay?” your voice slow and unsure, and then more of him being unable to help himself, to keep his hands to himself, because he reaches up and gently brushes his thumb over the little frowning wrinkle, nods his head once.

“I’m okay, baby.”

He drives for a bit, takes you to a spot up in the hills he likes to come to sometimes when he needs to think. Somewhere the two of you can be alone and quiet, just for a moment. He parks the truck by a copse of trees, a view of Austin on the other side of the two of you. The rain has turned into a violent downpour by now. He shuts off the engine and looks out at the view of the city.

“I’m sorry. I know I shouldn’t bother you – you asked me to stay away, but –” He lets his head fall back against the headrest and sighs, and the sound of it is so weary, pained in a way that’s so very, very sad. It makes you hurt for him. You reach across the center console to grip his bicep, you can’t help yourself. You could see from the first look at his face that something was wrong. You know he wouldn’t have come to look for you if he didn’t need you now.

“You’re not bothering me. I know I shouldn’t, but I wanted to see you too.” You only confess this because of the look in his eyes. The glassy, burdened look of them. You wish that you could climb into his lap and wrap your arms around his neck, press your warmth into him. The rain hits the windshield like bullets, the sound deafening. The world outside of his truck’s cabin seems distorted, as if this liminal space the two of you sit in now, has been carved out of the rest of the real world, and the two of you exist here now, only, together. “What’s wrong?”

“Nothin’,” he wraps his hand over yours on his arm, drags his thumb over the smooth little hills of your knuckles. His gaze out the window is so far away, lost, something almost childlike in its desolation. You watch the strong ripple of his neck as he swallows, clears his throat. “Nothing – just wanted to see you. ‘Dunno… Felt so tired today.” He closes his eyes for a moment, “Couldn’t stop myself. Wanted to just give myself this one thing.” He lets his head roll against the seat to look at you, gives you the gentle curve of his crooked smile. So beautiful and so sad, and you can tell that something is endlessly wrong. You feel afraid, for one moment, that he’s going to start crying, the sadness in his eyes is so overwhelming. You don’t think you’ll be able to stand the sight of his tears, you think they might break you. “Just wanted to look at you, to sit here with you, just for a little bit.”

“Alright.” You’re quiet for a beat, watching him watch the rain. Part of you wants to give him space, give him quiet, but you need to know what’s wrong. You can’t bear the look in his eyes right now. “Did something happen?”

He’s silent, as if gathering his thoughts or his strength around him, and then: “Eva had a pregnancy scare this week.” A jagged shiver slices through you.

“What?” You croak, you try to pull your hand back, but he clamps down on your bones, holds you to him. “But I thought–”

He shakes his head, “Not mine.”

“Joel… what? Are– are you–” You blink furiously, at a loss. What do you say to the man who you’re kind of having an affair with when he tells you his wife, who is also seemingly having an affair, might be pregnant with another man’s child? This is all so, so fucked up. So ugly. You swallow, turn to look out at the rain. You don’t want to cry, but you can’t seem to help the tears from pooling. A bombardment of recurring images from your childhood slingshotting through your mind; your mother, leaving, angry, cold, quiet. Always pushing you away. The sound of her crying through her bedroom door, your child’s ear, pressed to the cool grain, trying to get as close to her as possible even though she doesn’t want you. Always shutting you out. Your father, dead to the world on the sofa in the living room, drowning in his liquor and yearning and hurt. The sight of a tall, handsome stranger, coming up the front walk to ring the doorbell, to take your mother away with him. The way he’d crouched down from his great height to ask you what your name was because she hadn’t even bothered to tell the man she was having an affair with, the man she was leaving you for, what your name was.

What is it about being unlovable, you wonder, and why is it that some are cursed with it so cruelly, while others are not?

“Hey,” Joel tugs on your wrist, pulls you closer to him. “I told you, we’re not like that, we’ve never been. I don’t want you thinkin’ somethin’ else, that I haven’t been honest.” He drags the pad of his thumb over your cheekbone, tips your head back to catch your eyes. You let them flutter shut and swallow, open them again. If you talk you’ll cry, but he needs words from you now. You swallow again, shake your head.

“It’s– it’s not that. I believe you. And even if it was otherwise, I have no right–”

“Stop. Don’t say that. You know that isn’t true. You have the right to honesty after what I’ve told you, after what we’ve done.” You try to pull back, but he brings his palm to wrap around the back of your neck and grip you by the scruff. “Stop,” he grits, “Don’t pull away from me.”

You bring your palms up to his chest, clutch at the collar of his shirt. “I’m not. I’m not, I’m sorry. It’s just–” you huff a sharp, bitter laugh, “Sometimes it’s like you’re just telling me the story of my childhood, over and over again. Like you’re living it again for me. This all sounds very pathetically familiar.” A tear finally falls, you can’t help it. A weeper in a long line of weepers, always.

“Sweetheart…” he brushes the track of your tear away with his thumb.

You shake your head. “I’m so sorry. Are you okay? Is she?”

“She’s fine. Took her to the doctor this morning.”

“God, Joel– I don’t – I don’t know how you do this.” Another tear. You think of your father, how weak, how broken he was after her. He could have never shouldered the things Joel does. You feel very sad, very sorry, for the both of them, as different as they are. You feel sorry for the whole miserable lot of you, really.

“She needed my help, she was scared–” his thumb sweeps a slow, hypnotizing path up and down the back of your neck. The rough callus on his thumb catches at your sensitive skin and makes you feel hot and sweaty and overwhelmed for the feel of it on every other tender place on your body. “Terrified, really. Of being trapped like that again.”

“Trapped?”

“Sarah was never her plan. Neither of us were. She never wanted any of this.”

“You told me the marriage wasn’t conventional… but I didn’t – I didn’t think Sarah was included in that…” Your stories are too similar, the similarities too painfully familiar.

“We met at a bar, it was–” he looks away, and you watch a hot flush flood his cheeks. He’s embarrassed to tell you this. “It was a one night thing. Her birth control failed, and then – it was just – well, ending the pregnancy was never an option for her, and I told her from the get go that I’d do whatever she wanted, support her in anything she chose. She chose to go on with it. So I asked her to marry me, it made sense, it was– it was the convenient thing. At least, at the time – in my mind, it seemed so. But we – we were strangers, there was no connection. And then… I don’t know. It wasn’t, eventually – it wasn’t the right thing, at all, for any of us. She never wanted to be a mother. She told me once, after, that she’d chosen wrong, she’d made the wrong decision. And I always tried to be supportive, but by that time, well – we had Sarah by that time, and I– I loved her more than anything I’d ever loved in my whole life. Didn’t even know it was possible to love anything that much – and it made me so fucking angry with her – to– to hear her say something like that, that she should’ve gotten rid of her. It was – I don’t know – a very complicated and painful thing – for the both of us to grapple with, I guess. But I–” he pauses, takes a deep breath. His eyes shift madly, looking out the window as if the rain will bring with it an explanation or an escape for whatever it is that’s churning inside his mind as he tells you this. “There was never really anything to be angry with, I don’t think. No real reason or focus for my anger. I realized it’s impossible to fault a person for not being what they were never meant to be. She never wanted this. And I hadn’t planned for it, it just happened. And the decisions we made were made, and then things just ended up as they did. Sometimes – I don’t,” he frowns, shaking his head, “I don’t know how to say it, but–” He turns to you now, a wild, pleading look in his eyes, “But how can I say that we made a mistake, without saying that Sarah was a mistake? Because if I’ve ever done a single thing absolutely perfect, in my whole entire life, it’s that little girl. She’s perfect. You know what I mean?”

You nod, swallowing back your tears, “Yes.”

He frowns at you, his eyes filled with infinite tenderness, “Don’t cry, sweetheart.”

“I’m not,” you lie, turning to press the back of your hand to your hot eyes. “I’m sorry. It’s just – it reminds me of myself, of my own mother. She – she was the same, I think. Never meant to be a mother. But not bad. It’s just what it was. And hearing you, hearing this, it makes me so sad for you, for all of you. I’m sorry.” He leans forward, wraps his hand around your jaw to press his brow to your wet cheek and just holds there. The two of you breathe each other in, match the cadence of your breaths to the other. You snake your arms around his broad shoulders to press yourself closer to him. It scares you, this feeling of necessity he forces out of you, like you need him, even this soon, for strength, for comfort, for happiness. You’ve never felt like this before, and it’s coming on so quickly, overwhelming you. You feel like you need him, and if you don’t have him you’ll never be happy for the rest of your life, you’ll never be able to forget him, to let him go. He shifts to nuzzle against your cheek and then your jaw, and then the hot press of his lips to the tender spot behind your ear. A violent tremble moves through you at the feel of his soft mouth against your skin, and you dig your nails harshly into his shoulders.

“I just– lemme just–” he mumbles against your skin, and then that hand wrapped around your jaw is turning your head and forcing your mouth open so that he’s kissing you, licking into your mouth and everything goes tight and painful and white hot inside of you. “Jesus–” he says against your mouth. He forces your head back to deepen the angle, his other hand coming up to fist painfully in your hair, and you whimper into him. His answering groan is deep and rumbling and so, so wanting. Your heart feels like it’s flipping and squeezing and pinching inside your ribcage. You can hear how much he wants you, this, in the cadence of the sounds he makes. The kiss is wet, sloppy, full of teeth and all the desperation and yearning of these past few weeks. The days and days of not seeing him, of remembering your encounter in that dark room at the lake house, the way he’d made you come against his thigh, the sound of his own orgasm, the inhibition, the flush in his cheeks as he spilled in his jeans for you. The desperate, pathetic nights of your cunt stuffed full of your fingers, so wet and aching and still not enough even though you’d made yourself orgasm multiple times at just the memory of him. You claw at his hair and neck and back, you want to draw blood, imprint yourself on him in some way, the same way he’s imprinted himself on you. He brings the hand in your hair down to your waist to press you closer to him. The center console digs painfully into your ribs and you want to climb over it and settle in his lap, but you know you shouldn’t, that if you end up over there you’ll let him fuck you, and that you’ll never come back from that. Not ever. He drags his hand up to your breast, grips the heavy weight in his large palm and squeezes, and it hurts and it feels so, so fucking good that you rip yourself away from his mouth, push at his broad chest to force him away from you. The both of you stare at each other, wide eyed and panting great, heaving gasps. His hair is sticking up at all angles, messy from your pillaging fingers, his eyes glassy and his cheeks flushed almost feverish.

Oh, you want him so badly. This will be your undoing.

“We– we can’t– I didn’t come here with you for– for that,” you gasp, pressing your fingers to your wet mouth.

“I know– I know– shit, we–” He passes a palm over his mouth, and you feel another tear slide down your burning cheek. You’re surprised you don’t see steam rise at the contact. “Fuck – fuck, baby, please. Please, don’t cry. I’m sorry, I’m so sorry. I shouldn’t have done that. I didn’t mean to make you cry. I got carried away– ”

“I’m not crying– I’m not.” Maybe if you say it enough times it’ll be true. You turn to wipe it away on the hill of your shoulder, try to hide your face.

“I’m sorry. I shouldn’t have touched you

“I wanted you to. I want it so badly,” you cry, squeezing your eyes shut tight. You feel inconsolable.

“I know– I know.”

You want him so badly, so badly, so badly, you want him to keep touching you forever. “It hurts, Joel. It hurts–”

“Jesus, what hurts? Tell me.” He leans forward, gripping your knee painfully tight, and you press yourself into the door at your back, “Fuck– is that sweet, little cunt aching for me? Tell me, baby.”

You nod

“Fuck, what if– what if we just – just watch each other? What if you pet your cunt for me, and let me watch? Just– just to make the ache go away? Would that be okay?”

You shake your head, unsure, but your hand is clutching his over your knee now, digging your nails into the top of his palm and letting him slowly push your knee open further.

His voice is so coaxing. Oh, he shouldn’t use that tone of voice against you, you’re powerless to it. “You can, it’s okay. It’s just to make the ache go away, it’s okay,” and you have no choice but to capitulate, no desire to not give in.

His palm on your knee slides up your thigh, pushing your skirt to bunch at your hips, and he hooks one finger into the side of your panties to pull them down as you lift your hips, allowing him to divest you of them. So easy, you’re so fucking easy, and you don’t even care. All you can focus on right now is the throbbing ache between your legs.

His eyes don’t leave yours as he says, “Spread your legs… that’s it.”

“Don’t– don’t look–” you stutter as you bring your shaking fingers to your core, and he’s leaning back to undo his belt and drag his zipper down. You can’t look either, you can’t, if you do, you’ll lose, you know it. You see the peripheral movement of him reaching into his clothes to pull the heft of his cock out, the shift of his upper body as he lifts his hips to readjust his pants to free himself. Your cunt is slick and throbbing, painfully swollen.

You watch the movement of his shoulder as he starts to jack himself, “Just your clit first, baby. Soft, little circles, yeah… how does that feel?”

“Good– good, yes.” You’re panting, mouth hanging open. There is fire in his gaze, all for you, only for you.

“Yeah? You need more?”

“Please, Joel–” You don’t know what you’re begging for, but you don’t think it’s for your touch alone.

“Give yourself one finger, sweetheart. Just one – tell me how wet it is? Are you soaked for me?”

You press one finger inside, and yes, yes, your’re fucking soaked for him, you say. He groans at that, the rhythm of his shoulder gets faster. “I have to look, baby. Please, please, I have to see how wet it is.” The tops of his cheeks are flushed red, but as you watch the downward shift of his eyes to your spread sex, the place where you’re impaling yourself with a single finger, his eyes flare, the flush seems to ricochet even higher, hotter. You pull your finger out to cup yourself, hide yourself, burning with shyness and lust, but fuck, the look in his eyes, it’s bright hot, devouring. No one has ever looked at you like that. Never.

“Jesus fucking Christ,” he moans, “Put ‘em back in. Fuck yourself, make yourself come. I have to see it.” So fucking gorgeous, you hear him mutter under his breath, and you finally give yourself permission to look down as you stuff two fingers back into your desperate pussy. Fuck your rules, you have to see him.

He’s huge.

Thick and long, the size of his cock is not made smaller by the massive breadth of his fist holding it in a vice-like grip, jacking it, tight and fast. The head is flushed a deep, angry red, the slit at the top weeping a pearly stream of precum that makes your mouth water and the muscles in your pelvis tighten – you want to taste him, you want him to fuck your mouth until you’re forced to swallow his load. There’s a thick vein running up the entire length of the underside of the shaft that you’re sure you’d feel his pulse in if you set your tongue against it. He’s pulled his heavy balls out over the edge of his jeans too, and he cups them and squeezes.

“Spread yourself wider for me – yeah like that… Lemme see you stretch that cunt.”Oh, he’s so dirty.

You’re sucking in quick, shallow gulps of air, on the verge of hyperventilating as you watch his massive palm beat at his cock, almost dizzy with lust, your blood rushing in your head, your pussy sopping wet, tight as a knot. This isn’t enough, you want to stop, you want to go further, you want him to touch you, to climb into his lap, to take that heavy, thick weight inside of you and feel him stretch you to the point of pain. “Don’t look– you shouldn’t look–” you don’t know why you say it, maybe because you feel you have to, but it’s nonsensical when your eyes are glued to him.

“I have to look, baby. Please, don’t ask me that. I have to see it – fuck, you’re so gorgeous, look at you. Prettiest fucking cunt I’ve ever seen in my entire life.”

“Stop,” you moan, arching your back further to crook your fingers inside of yourself, hitching your knees higher to pet at the spongy, tender spot inside you that you’d like him to own. “St– stop– I’m– m’not your baby– don’t– don’t– oh fuck, I’m gonna come–” your eyes roll to the back of your head at the sound of his choked growl, his eyes glued to your stretched sex, the sounds of your wetness and his slick palm echoing in the truck cabin.

“You are, you are – even if you won’t let me touch you, won’t let me have you – you fucking belong to me now. Already, even like this – look at you, about to come for me with just my eyes on you.” His hips start to lift into his fist, his hand almost a blur for how fast he’s fucking himself, teeth gritted, tendons in his strong neck popping starkly under the surface of his flushed, sweaty skin.

“Fuck– fuck, it’s so pretty.”

“Stop– please, Joel, I need–”

“Wanna taste it and fuck it and fill it with my come–”

“Oh my fucking God–” you’re going to come, now, now, it’s right there. You tell him.

“One more finger – lemme see you stretch yourself… yeah like that… my good fucking girl,” grunted as you stuff a third finger inside and start to spasm, mewling high and desperate for him, grinding your clit against the mound of your palm. You want his cock to stretch you like this, and you tell him. The sound he makes at your desperate plea, as if it’s been ripped out of him, painful, desperate, savage. You watch the wide head flush an almost deeper shade, verging on purple now, and he squeezes the base cruelly, his sack fisted tight in his other hand, and he starts to come, a thick white stream of milky spend that makes your mouth water, sliding over his fist and spurting onto his exposed belly. “Oh God, Joel, I want it.” You can’t stop the words, the sight of his orgasm forces them out of you.

“I know, baby, I know. I want to give it to you,” he says through clenched teeth.

You both stay frozen like that for a moment as you come down, panting and staring at each other wide eyed and flushed and trembling. That was, perhaps, no, it was without a doubt, the most intense thing you’ve ever experienced with a man, and you’d barely even touched each other. Pain and pleasure coalesce to leave you shaking and sweating, your skin hypersensitive. You’re scared you’re going to start crying again and scare him, give him the wrong idea – that you’d not liked this, that you’d not wanted this. When the truth is that nothing could ever compare to how much you wanted, needed it. How much you’ll want this forever now. You want to take him inside of you. The sheer force of your desire almost has a flavor, a shape to it. The strength of it, so potent, it is almost made sentient – a living thing.

You pull your wet fingers out, and he snaps forward suddenly, to snatch your hand towards himself and brings the slick digits into his mouth, his tongue laving hot and wet between the spaces, sucking on them. All the while his eyes are zeroed in on the space between your legs, on the place that is still clenching and stretched, so ready and eager for him to fill. You gasp at his ferocity, at the feral look in his eyes because you can see, you can see that almost sentient desire you’re filled with, reflected in his own eyes.

“Joel–” you whisper as he presses one final kiss to the wet tips of your fingers, his eyes fluttering shut as he holds there for one moment.

“I know–” he whispers back, and when his eyes come back to yours, there is such a depth of understanding in them. You realize in this moment, in this shared look, that the two of you are the same in an essential way. It isn’t just your desire that connects the two of you now, it’s so much more. A loneliness, a sentimentality, perhaps, a keen sense of familiarity. That vein of shyness, of being closed off, that fear of opening up, of being hurt, of being left. He’s the same, you can see it, feel it.

You’d never thought you had a very good sense of self identity – your perception of yourself skewed in the image of your mother, of who she was, of her shadow, of the things she’d done, but in this moment, looking into the reflection of Joel’s eyes, you feel you see yourself very clearly, almost securely, for the first time. It is recognition the two of you are sharing now, for some reason, in some way, you recognize him. And you find it ironic, that now, in this moment of all times, when you’re doing the very thing that you’d always been so afraid of, of turning into the thing that you’d always feared because of your mother, it is ironic that you are finally able to cast away her shadow, her image, and see only yourself, so clearly, so wholly, because of him.

And yet, despite the sudden, blinding clarity, oh, it was all so dark, so dark, that it be this man, this unavailable, married, unreachable man, that would make you feel so wholly seen, so understood, so connected.

Your wrist is left wet and sticky where he’s gripped you with his spend covered fingers, but you’re careful not to wipe it away. You want to be left with the tightness of his dried come over your skin.

“Don’t say that we shouldn’t have done that,” he tells you.

“I wasn’t going to.”

“Good.”

“I was going to say that I wish we could do it again – that I wish we could do more.”

“Shit–” he whispers, passes his dry palm over his mouth and then up into his hair, to tug at the messy curls. You move to right your clothes, and he follows your lead, tucking himself back into his jeans. “Me too.”

You let your head rest back against the window as the two of you stare at each other in silence for a moment. It’s comforting, filled with companionship, understanding, the intimacy of the moment the two of you just shared. Your cheeks feel hot and you can’t help but smile at him, just a little, a small laugh escaping, and then he’s returning it, smiling and laughing softly too, until the both of you are wracked with the most ridiculous, schoolyard giggles, like two blushing teenagers. It’s a wonderful moment for the purity of it, the two of you together, laughing. Later, you’re sure it will make you very sad and desperate to relive it, but now, oh, now, it really does feel so wonderful. You wish the two of you could live here forever, together in this moment, in the warm, intimate space of his truck’s cabin.

You talk for hours after that, about nothing and everything. His work and yours, your art, his love of building things, of taking care of things, music and movies and books and Sarah. Always, Sarah.

“She has an obsession with bats right now, weird kid, and there’s a sanctuary up town. We spent a few hours there on Saturday, she loved it. Scampering around in this Snow White princess dress she’s refused to take off for the past three weeks. Won’t part with the damn thing, not even to let me wash it.”

He loves her so much, and it makes your heart pinch and your eyes go hot and weepy. He is, you think, an exceptionally good father, an exceptionally good man.

Eventually, however, it gets late enough that the two of you realize you need to get home. He drives you back to the school in the most comfortable of silences, your hand intertwined reassuringly in his strong embrace. It feels worryingly natural, right.

“Will you let me see you again?” he asks when he pulls up next to your lonely car in the school parking lot.

“I don’t– I don’t know if that’s such a good idea, Joel. This will only go further from here if we continue. And I don’t– I can’t be your–” you frown, shaking your head, disgusted at yourself for even having to say the words, “I can’t be your mistress,” you tell him bluntly.

“I would never, never ask that of you.”

“So, then what is it supposed to be? You’re going to leave your wife? That– that isn’t what I want. I don’t want to be the thing that breaks your marriage up, your family, that leaves Sarah in a broken home. I cannot be that.” It would be your worst nightmare come to life.

He says your name in the most serious tone you think he can muster, as if he can imbue the understanding of his words into your stubborn skull with the resonance of it, “There is no marriage to break up. She’s leaving soon, I know it, I can tell. She’s done. She’s leaving Sarah, and I don’t think she’s coming back this time. I don’t think I can let her just – just come in and out of our daughter’s life like that. Something needs to stop or change. I have to do something to make this better for my girl.”

“I understand that, and I can’t– I can’t tell you how sorry I am to hear that for Sarah. For you. Really, I understand more than I can tell you – but still, when it comes to you and I, or you and her – I can’t … I can’t get into that like this. I– I, I don’t–” you pant, “I don’t know. I’m sorry. But I can’t do that, this. Not now.”

“Baby–”

“No, Joel. You don’t understand – I watched my mother cheat on my father my entire childhood, until she up and left us one day, left him. I watched him love her for years, unreturned, suffer for her, and then I watched him kill himself slowly, drink himself to death until I buried him.”

“That isn’t what Eva and I are–”

“I cannot have an affair with you. I know – I know that’s basically what we’re already fucking doing – I know I’m a hypocrite–”

“You’re not–”

“But I can’t also be the reason you leave your marriage. It would kill me – do you understand?” your voice cracks, you’re shocked you’re not crying right now. “Please, Joel.”

He looks at you for a moment, you’re afraid you can see anger in his eyes, but then they go soft, understanding, and he says, “Yeah… yeah, sweetheart. I understand.” Your eyes flutter shut, and you let out a shaky breath, relieved, but at the same time, filled with a sick twist of disappointment. What would you do if he pressed you, if he forced you? You know part of you would like it. “Can I at least call you? Only sometimes, please. Just to talk – to hear your voice.”

You start to shake your head, but when you open your eyes and take in the pleading look in his gaze, you can’t say no. “Alright, yes… yes, you can call me. That’s okay.”

“Can I kiss you? Just once more?” You lean over the console and press your lips to his, sudden and rough, as an answer, your teeth clicking together harshly. Of course, you want to kiss him again, of course.

One long, tight moment, you clutch his wrists to keep them from pulling you in closer, and then you’re pulling back, scrambling out of the truck and forcing yourself away from him. You need to get away before you lose all strength of will and just let him do whatever he wants to you. You hear him get out, as well, and follow you around to your driver’s side door, waiting behind you as you dig for your car keys in your bag. You open the door, and then turn back to him, you can’t help yourself, and he lifts a hand to drag his thumb across your cheekbone, along the edge of your jaw. His eyes look so sad, like he’s afraid this’ll be the last time the two of you ever see each other again. The tears are back and angrily demanding release, but you try and take deep breaths through your nose to keep them at bay while your entire frame shakes and shivers at the restraint. He nods once and leans forward to press a long kiss above your brow, and then he turns and walks back to his truck, gets inside. He waits until you’ve gotten in your own car and are driving away, great heaving sobs wracking your body, overwhelming you, before you see him finally turn his truck on and start to drive back home, back to his wife and child.

Chapter .5

Netherfeildren's Masterlist

End Notes: This was kind of a heavy one, if there’s anything you’d like to chat about (or yell at me for all the angsty bullshit) pls come do so :)

#someone's fic #Joel miller #joel miller x female oc #joel miller x you #joel miller x reader #joel miller/reader #joel miller/you #joel miller fanfiction #joel miller fic #joel miller smut #joel miller angst #joel miller imagine #the last of us fanfiction #the last of us fic #tlou fic #pedro pascal #pedro pascal characters #pedro pascal fanfiction

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jinkookspencil · 7 months

Text

like couples do | knj

you run out of period products at dawn, and there's only one person who's up....

description/tags: namjoon drabble / fwb to lovers / fluff / but mentions the fact that namjoon and reader had unprotected sex (don't do this) and reader is relieved to get her period afterwards / so obviously mentions of period and blood / maybe a bit angsty? / been busy and been working on a request! but it's been a while since i wrote namjoon and, gosh, i love writing for him even though whatever comes to me for him is usually the most random bursts and ideas, like this one i thought of last night / let me know what you think <3

wc: ~1.6k words

Your gasp pulls you from heaven to hell.

Extracted from your dream, you’re out of the covers in a flash, dazed as you try to meet your reality. The room was sweltering despite autumn settling in and the fan whizzing away in your room as it always did. The sound you’d grown so accustomed to only made it harder to think, but you didn’t have to. The wet pools at your back and around your body suddenly made themselves known, with your black pajama top sticking to your sweaty skin. With a quick change into a tank top and a sip of cold water, you were ready to escape into a dreamland, far from the hellhole that had been your bedroom...

Only to be met with a small pool of a different kind when you pull away the blanket.

Fuck.

Quickly feeling between your thighs confirmed it - you bled through your shorts.

Well, at least it’s here, you think, your heart settling after days worrying about the sudden delay in your cycle. After all, Namjoon hadn’t used any protection…

It was hard to put away the mental image of him once you were in the bathroom, remembering that one time he had you propped up on the cabinet, but looking through it now, the panic returns. You were all out of pads and tampons.

This is why people have roommates. Or stupidly organized Virgo boyfriends, you think, cursing yourself while rummaging through every drawer, cupboard, and overnight bag without finding a single tampon for the evening.

The minutes spent on your phone were quick to squash any more of your hopes - the delivery service app had been shut down for the night after some seemingly catastrophic bug on their end, and your female friends who lived nearby hadn't answered your texts and calls, as expected at this time of day.

Reading the time on your phone, you knew one person who would definitely be up. The person who always showed up. The man worked ridiculous hours, following his ‘late-night creativity’… unless the universe really wanted to torture you and, for the very first time, he’d be asleep as well.

You consider running to the convenience store, double layering your bottoms with black fabrics, and taking a scooter... only for a stinging cramp to shock you at your lower back.

He had to answer.

to: joon 🌒[3:58am] - hi are you up?

to: joon🌒 [3:58am] - text asap please it’s urgent

to: y/n🍀 [4:01am] - yes i’m up. are you okay y/n?

to: y/n🍀 [4:01am] - i’m finally done with work for the night.

to: y/n🍀 [4:01am] - are you okay? i’ll call as soon as i’m out of the building.

to: joon🌒 [4:02am] - don’t call i’m embarrassed to say this to you out loud plus i'm in pain

to: joon 🌒 [4:02am] - can you get me some pads and tampons? i got my period (aka the pain) and i’m all out so….

to: joon🌒 [4:02am] - i need em and i can’t get em

to: y/n🍀 [4:03am] - y/n of course. phew i thought this was going in literally the complete opposite way considering…

to: y/n🍀 [4:03am] - anyways, aren’t we past embarrassment? never feel that when it comes to me please.

to: y/n🍀 [4:03am] - safe space just for us, remember?

to: joon🌒 [4:04am] - yes :) thanks joon

to: y/n🍀 [4:04am] - :) getting on my bike now. i’ll be there in 10.

to: y/n🍀 [4:04am] - the sky’s starting to change colors. look outside, pretty :) (1 image attached)

The knock, though expected, jolts you enough for your new bedsheet to spring away from your grasp once again. Frustrated, a groan escapes you as you walk to your front door, tightening the robe that covered your body and stained shorts.

“Sorry I’m late,” Namjoon giggles at the door, seeing your furrowed expression. “Oh, you’re most definitely on your period, huh?”

“Get in here and shut up,” you groan once more, letting him in. All too familiar with your place, he unpacks one of the bags in his hand, carefully displaying an array of period products on the nearest table.

“I’m surprised you didn’t send a photo and ask me to choose one,” you say, grabbing one of the boxes.

“I… I grabbed everything in the aisle without thinking. Shit, I should’ve sent a photo, right? Are these not good enough? Are they the wrong size? Will they fit your....? I can go to another convenience store,” he murmurs, head tilted down as he surveys the products before you.

“No, Namjoon, honey, the photo is just a thing boyfriends tend to do when they’re asked to get period products. You asked the same size and fit question, though,” you laugh before quickly realizing you compared his actions to that of a boyfriend. Something he most definitely was not.

“I lived in a dorm full of boys, how was I supposed to know?” he says, scratching his head.

“These are perfect, and I’m stocked for at least the next three months. Thank you, Joonie,” you say, squeezing his arm.

“Anytime, Y/N,” he replies quietly, pulling you closer to him so he can kiss your forehead. It only hits you both when your hand is rubbing at his back in his embrace, and it takes even longer to break away than it did to realize the situation.

Something shifts in Namjoon’s gaze when he sees you emerge from the bathroom in new pyjama shorts. “Cute PJ’s. I’m not used to seeing them on you for more than five seconds.”

“Enjoy the show, then,” you quip, plopping down next to him on the couch and extending your legs over his lap. You hadn’t really meant it as a command, but can’t help but smile catching the fact that Namjoon had obeyed. His fingers draw mindless circles at your ankles as his gaze travels upwards. Minutes are spent in silence, eyeing your thighs with intent before his eyes rest on your exposed clavicle. His circles stop, gripping your ankle and noting the undeniable rise and fall of your breathing and breasts, swollen and tender against your thin cotton tank top.

“Oh,” he finally says with a cough, breaking the silence and raising his brows. “I almost forgot. I thought you might need these.”

Leaning forward, Namjoon dumps the entire contents of the second plastic bag onto your hard coffee table. Small, colorful circles bounce off of it and onto the floor, long bars land with a thud, and instantly recognizable plastic packages are cushioned by its contents.

“Oh, Joon. I do. I do fucking need this,” you let out, almost as a moan. “You already know what I want.”

Smiling, he tears open a plastic packet of your favorite chocolate-flavored bread and another for himself. The time spent biting and savoring the pillowy snack was heavenly in the comfortable silence -save for the birds that begin to chirp from somewhere outside your window.

“Don’t worry, I haven’t forgotten the sticker,” you say, handing Namjoon the tiny square envelope in your now-empty plastic packaging. He’s quick to grab it from your hands, giddy to see whatever Pokemon character was inside.

"Take mine, too," he says, handing you his square, with an illustration of a pink, deer-like creature - not at all like the Pokemon he usually mentioned.

"Oh, she’s pretty!”

"Exactly..." he says. "Deerling, that's her name. She's a new favorite of mine, actually. Her colors change based on the different seasons in the year... and when she evolves, her deer form's antlers are basically how branches are decorated in nature: budding flowers and leaves for spring, greenery for summer, you get the picture. She's the only one that truly encapsulates the beauty of our world..."

"All that for a Pokemon? I'm jealous," you tease, but he doesn't laugh, quietly opening the envelope you'd handed to him.

“Yes!” he cheers. “I don’t have this one yet - Moltres. Ah, you really are my good luck charm, huh?"

"Am I? I guess you should keep me around, then, huh?" you say, leaning back on the couch and poking his shoulder.

"That's the plan," Namjoon says, his eyes still thoughtfully fixated on the sticker he fiddled with, but only for a moment. “Uhm… I… we… should probably get some sleep, huh? I should probably…go. Uhm, should I?”

“Do you want to go?” you ask, feeling a tightening in your chest at the thought. Just like all those nights in bed, it was too comfortable to remember that this wasn't your entire reality but stolen, secret time. Always, one found themselves reminding the other to snap back to reality. It was beautifully torturous, just as you two had liked it for so long… until it began to sink in that the beauty could stand on its own…. if only one of you had the courage.

“….No. No I don’t really want to go, Y/N. But if you want me to….”

“I don’t want you to,” you interrupt, nudging his fingertip with yours right over your knees until your hands are intertwined. “I mean someone has to help me fit that stupid sheet onto the bed... and you're quite familiar with my sheets."

“I am,” he smiles, nodding to himself and squeezing your hand with his.

“Then we can get in… and just go to sleep… or cuddle,” you wonder, feeling Namjoon's soft hand under yours.

“Like couples do?” Namjoon asks, finally meeting your gaze for the first time that night.

“Yeah… yeah, I’m thinking like couples do,” you whisper, your breath hitching on the words that spoke your once unthinkable, far-fetched desire while looking at it right in the eyes.

“Me too,” he smiles, bringing your hand up to kiss it and rest it at his dimples. “Like couples it is then.”

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camilaxmartin · 1 year

Text

you’re enough

i just needed to get it off my chest to be honest

navigation // request // masterlist

summary: lesso reassures you after you got a bad grade

warnings: none; (not proof read)

notes: that’s my first fic (on here) written from the first person’s view phew~ it’s fluff but the start can count as a little bit of angst i guess??

>>>>>>>>>>>>>>•<<<<<<<<<<<<<<

i pushed the door to lesso’s office and came in not even waiting for her agreement. she was working behind her desk, probably grading some tests. her eyes immediately flowed to me at the moment i crossed the line of the room. my face was saying it all. i was frustrated and mad. horribly mad. i shot the door behind me earning a loud noise from them which made me even more nervous. i threw away the books i have been carrying with myself, them landing somewhere on the floor. i couldn’t care less about it now. her eyes were glued to me even though she was still grading the papers who were starting to form a high pile on her desk. i walk up to the two furnitures situated right before her desk. with a loud thud i threw myself at one of them. my hands immediately started caressing my face trying to calm me down a bit. her eyes were now back at the test she was continuously grading. after a while of rubbing my eyes and totally smuggling my make up i finally seated my hands on the armrests. lesso’s eyes suddenly flew right up catching mine in no time. i was feeling so ashamed and i’m sure she could sense it. her look filled with no emotions at all was just adding perfect atmosphere to this whole situation. i bit my down lip looking away from her. tears uncontrollably forming in my eyes. when i looked at her again her look was more soft. still emotionless but softer. almost like she’d be worried.

“can i finally ask what’s this all about?” she asked looking at her paper once again, fully breaking the eye contact.

i let out a long and loud breath. taking in another one, deeper one.

“i got a bad grade.” i whispered. “a really bad one.” i added so quietly she probably wasn’t able to catch it. probably.

“so you should’ve studied harder.” she explained not even bothering to look up at me. tears in my eyes started to form once again.

“i did. i really did.” i responded looking at the cabinets behind her, like i was seeing them for the very first time.

“clearly it wasn’t enough.” she said and i just suddenly lost it.

suddenly the tears forming in my eyes were now flowing down my face like huge drops of rain. the rest of my smudged makeup coming off along with them. i felt a single drop land on my left thigh sinking into the material of my tights right away. i didn’t even bother to wipe my face when i felt another wave of tears coming out of my eyes. the whimper i let out next was the thing that caught the full attention of the dean of evil. maybe i was often crying with her but it was rare for it to get that bad. in no second her eyes were at my face and the pen she was using to grade the papers was laying alone at the hard surface of her desk. she then pushed herself away a bit making room between herself and the desk, making it for me, without using words to state that. i clearly wasn’t thinking in that moment so i suppose it was just the memory of my muscles. i got up and came to her in no time. then she opened her arms for me to literally hide in them. no needing more in such a moment i just sat on her lap and immediately hugged into her, wrapping my hands around her neck, while hers gently wrapped around my back and her fingers started stroking it delicately. i felt another wave of water coming straight out of my eyes. having the wet path already on my cheeks the next drops had easier way to slip out of my face and wet the material of lesso’s suit. but she seemed like she didn’t care. maybe it really wasn’t bothering her. another sob came out of my mouth and the grip on my back tightened, bringing me closer to her body than i already was. it made me feel calmer. she then grabbed me even tighter and moved me even closer to her that i was almost sitting on her hips. one of her hands left my back and immediately went up to grab my cheek and gently stroke it, meaning that she wanted my attention. unsurely i pulled my head away from her and then my eyes again met hers. her look was soft now and overflowing with worry. when you want to know how lesso actually feels and what she really means, you need to pay attention to her eyes. they will tell you everything. i knew she wanted me to just explain what happened but right now i needed the most of reassurance. she still rubbed my cheek with one of her fingers making sure i knew she actually cared so much.

“tell me darling, what’s actually wrong?” she asked after a moment of silnce. i took another deep and unsteady breath.

“i studied for it. i literally spend a lot of my time studying. and you know how hardly it comes for me. how easily i loose focus or motivation. how much strength i need to just sit down and learn something. even something i actually enjoy. what a struggle that is for me. how hard it is for me to learn something that just doesn’t want to get into my head no matter how long and how hard i try to make it work. how demotivating it is to do your best and still not be enough. and be judged. by others and mostly by yourself. how incredibly unfair it is for me to get a bad grade when my friends who did nothing to learn and didn’t even try to learn got such a good grade for cheating and even not trying, not talking here about trying their bests. and how unfair of her it is to give us such hard exercises when she knows most of the class doesn’t even have a clue what’s happening and they just copy and paste from each other when we’re doing something on lesson.” i said and the tears weren’t stopping. “and how hard it is for me to see that grade knowing damn well i did everything, i did my best, i tried and tried and it still isn’t good enough, or not even good, just enough.” i wanted to continue my monologue but another whimper interrupted me. lesso immediately pulled me to herself clearly not wanting to listen to the signs of how bad i was feeling.

“oh darling.” she said, stroking my back again. “sometimes we just need to accept it. even if it’s unfair or not how we would want it to be” she was about to continue but i interrupted her.

“but it wasn’t enough!” another sob came out of my mouth along with those words.

“did you do your best?” she asked, grabbing my face and pulling me away from her a bit, also making me look into her eyes “did you really try?”

“i did.” i responded tears finally starting to slow down.

“then it was enough.” she stated harshly, desperately trying to make a point.

“but even you said otherwise!” i said louder than i wanted to.

“i know.” she said licking her lips. “but i haven’t seen the whole situation then and just assumed that it was something less important to you.” she explained her point of view while also swallowing hardly at the end. “you know i would never say something with intention to hurt you.” she added even thought in the past she hurt me with her words more than once. but she was learning, and that was the most important.

“will i ever be enough?” i asked looking straight into her eyes in which i could see only worry and love now.

“you are enough.” she said rubbing my cheek a bit harder. “no matter the grades you get; no matter what anyone says; you. are. enough.” she said and brought her other hand to capture my other cheek.

needing to finally let go i automatically came closer to her and she did the same. the tips of our noses were touching right now. she still looked very worried and clearly wanted to help even more but she just didn’t know how to. at least how to do it and also not loose the job for murdering someone. sensing that i unconsciously smiled to her. it wasn’t this big, bright smile i’m used to wearing everyday but it was a smile. a small one, but truthful. when lesso noticed it she automatically smiled herself. the most beautiful sight i could ever ask for. her smile also wasn’t the one she used when she was teasing me or when i did something that made her pretty satisfied with herself, no. it was the one, the proud one. the proud of me one.

couldn’t wait more i slightly moved my head so now our lips were touching each other. we still weren’t kissing, our lips were just next to themselves. lesso decided it was enough for her too. with one gentle move she started kissing me. the kiss wasn’t as rough as she would normally kiss me. it was more soft and more meaningful i think. her delicate lips slowly worked with mine making me feel butterflies in my stomach in actually no time. my hands situated on her neck slowly found their way to her red hair almost immediately wrapping themselves in it. lesso smiled to our kiss feeling my fingers. her arms came back to my back and didn’t move from there. not an inch up or down. something unlikely for lesso, but in that very moment it gave me another wave of care from her, knowing she was actually trying to show me how much she cared about me and not only wanted to turn it into something spicier.

i didn’t want to stop kissing her but my lungs, same as hers, were burning for some oxygen. i gently pulled away from her lips linking our noses once again. lesso opened her eyes slowly, breathing a bit heavier than before. my own breath was faster and definitely shorter.

“no matter what,” she started to whisper and it immediately got my attention “you are always going to be the most valuable thing in my life.” she said it so casually i didn’t know how to respond. instead i just kissed her, again.

lesso was quick to kiss back. her hands gripped my back slightly harder again, brining me closer to her, craving to feel me closer. i felt her lips leaving mine and i wanted to protest but stopped myself. then her lips moved from mine, to leave a path of many wet kisses almost all around my face. first, she kissed my cheek as many times as she could and then started to go up. she left one of them at the middle of my forehead. to be honest i think that kiss was the most affectionate one of them all. then, she came back down to my cheek, but the other one. again, she left there so many kisses and next she moved lower. i felt her soft lips gently touch my jawline leaving another wet spot there. lesso moved even lower going to my neck. her mouth left another thousand of kisses there making a darker spot from time to time. she then came back up, kissing all of my face again but skipping my lips. she pulled away slightly waiting for me to open my eyes and direct my attention to her.

“my precious thing.” she whispered staring at me with pure adoration in her eyes. a quite unique sight.

“all yours.” i responded and she smiled at my words. she moved her head up slightly and kissed my forehead once again. definitely showing me the affection she was giving.

and then she finally came back to my mouth, kissing me again. i kissed her back almost immediately with more intention into it.

lady lesso was quick to catch up with me mostly when she felt the back and forth movement of my hips. she then quickly put her hands on the both sides of them situating them in place and not letting me move them.

“i see what you’re doing love.” she laughed almost breathlessly. “but i don’t think it’s the best activity for now.” she said with a very serious tone but her smile was still present. “i just want to cover you up with kisses right now and maybe, we can think about something else later.” she added with her normal smirk crawling to her face. how could i say no to something like this?

she kissed me immediately not giving me time to answer such an obvious question. her hands came back to their previous place and mine pulled her hair even more earning another wicked grin from the dean. even while smirking and smiling lesso didn’t stop the kiss, not wanting anything to interrupt her while she was doing the best she could in showing me that she cares and doing my best is always enough.

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brilliant-red-eternity · 1 year

Text

[Psycho-Pass Providence spoilers]

I thought long and hard about sharing spoilers with you on my blog, but here they are: a buffet for Shinkane fans! I can’t guarantee that the spoilers are 100% correct since I haven’t seen the movie myself and translations can be messy, but I try my best – feel free to correct me, to add things or to call me a crackpot and liar!

I had a feeling that many of you would like to know (at least to some extent) what this movie is about and if Shinkane becomes canon. It will probably take some time for PPP to be released outside Japan and as we all know, patience is a virtue. Don’t read if you don’t want spoilers. I’m serious! There are major spoilers in this text! But if you don’t mind, here’s a summary of what I picked up from Japanese fans who have already seen the movie:

1. The first meeting with Unit One after Ko’s return goes as expected: Ginoza is angry and Sugo has to prevent him from going off on Kogami. The atmosphere between Akane and Kogami is described as awkward and tense even when working together on the new case. They travel to Dejima (?) and Saiga accompanies Akane because he’s the only one who can access the Stronskaya document.

2. When Kogami and Saiga have a drink in the apartment/hotel, Saiga urges Ko to contact Akane and to come clean with her. He obeys by calling her. Akane tells him to apologize (“I just want you to say sorry”) but he doesn’t, so she hangs up the phone. Kogami seems to be very irritated and I can’t wait to see his face. Also what is the meaning of the empty liquor bottle on Ko’s table?

3. Ginoza asks Kogami on the boat “Why did you come back? It was our duty to protect Tsunemori” to which Kogami answers something like “For someone else’s sake again.” Does it mean that he came back for Akane? I think so. Ginoza seems to smile a little when he hears this.

4. We already saw the scene where Ko shields Akane from the explosion, but I don’t know exactly what happens afterwards. They say the angle of view is a little erotic (this can also be translated as horny, obscene) LOL

5. When the Peacebreakers attack, Saiga-sensei dies. I think he gets stabbed and then falls over a railing into the depths of the building. Akane tries to save him but he lets go of her hand so that she doesn’t fall with him. Phew! This is going to be hard to watch. No wonder why the Japanese fans cried! When Akane finds his dead body, the one who comforts her is Ginoza. Ko goes after Akira to fight him in a landscape holo room (?) aka that scene with the horse.

6. Now the elevator scene. Akane cries over the death of Saiga but Kogami seems unable to comfort her. Something holds him back (his own grief maybe?) so he just pats her on the shoulder saying something like “Focus on your duty, and cry after everything is over” and Akane says “Yes”. It sounds a bit heartless and reserved, doesn’t it? Why all the drama?

7. Then there’s an interrogation at SAD or PSB headquarters and Kogami gets shot by the arrested Akira whose consciousness was hacked. Ko ends up in the hospital where Akane visits him and finally they talk to each other and come to an agreement. This is very reminiscent of PP1.

8. I was a bit surprised to hear that Akane is invited to Kei’s wedding and that Arata’s dad commits suicide in his car after giving a speech. Really? On the wedding day of his son’s best friend? Did Arata witness this? Holy sh--! At least, I read that Akane followed Arata into the parking lot and perhaps was able to comfort him.

9. Akane leads the operation to stop the Peacebreakers. Before she leaves (gets on the plane?) Kogami is worried and says “Hey, don’t do anything reckless” and she replies “I can’t promise you that, so you better come quickly please.” Is she flirting with him? I think it’s cute and quite self-confident.

10. When Akane is defeated in the fight against the white haired man who points a gun to her head, Kogami rushes to her aid. The plan was to arrest the guy but things went out of hand. Kogami shoots him and then he hugs the injured Akane – yes, that’s what it says in the comments! I can’t wait to see this! I read that Akane says something like “I made Kougami-san kill again” to which he answers “And I will be held accountable for it”. The hug seems to have been a request from director Shiotani, because (as we already know) Akane and Ko won’t see each other for a long time after that.

11. The end is a bit confusing and I’m not sure if I got it right: Kogami is arrested and Akane writes him a letter that is just as emotional as Ko’s letter in PP1. She says that he had a great influence on her life and that she can’t promise him anything. Then she goes off to kill chief Kasei during some public event (?) because Sibyl wants to introduce a new bill that would strip the Ministry of Justice of all authority (?). Akane’s crime coefficient is low because you can’t kill a cyborg. But from the public’s perspective, she’s a killer. She seems to sacrifice herself for the dream of a just society that abides by the law instead of Sibyl’s despotism. Now Sibyl has to judge her. They have to reveal and explain her low CC without looking like idiots. Good luck, Sibyl! Akane seems to have set a precedent in PPP.

12. Kogami goes free and Akane is sent to the isolation facility where she finally breaks down and cries. He promises to pick her up when she is released – and so he does in FI when he finally manages to apologize! Some fans say that even though Kogami’s crimes aren’t punished by law it’s clear from his emotions that Akane’s imprisonment is his punishment. His actions had an impact on others, especially on someone he cherishes and loves. But unlike Kogami who killed out of revenge and violated the law, Akane has committed a crime in order to uphold the law. The Japanese fans cried at the end. Kogami must look pretty miserable! Seems as if Shinkane has a habit of breaking each other’s hearts and ours too, huh? But we know they will reunite in FI, so there’s hope! And who knows what the future holds.

Well, the movie covers many issues: foreign politics, references from the bible, Bifrost, new technology and AI, lots of action and so on. It’s quite exhausting to do research in Japanese as a beginner, so I only focused on the things I wanted to know. In other words: Akane, Kogami, Ginoza and Shinkane! I can’t wait for this movie to be released in my country, although I think it will probably be another year :’(

One last thing: speculations about the nature of the relationship between Akane and Kogami are running wild on social media again but all I can say is that if only a mere 20% of the above is true, then you can’t speak of platonic. Sorry, it’s not possible! There are far too many emotions, far too much awkwardness here that you don’t go through as “just friends”. They’re not a couple, but both of them are probably aware that they could become one if they chose to.

#psycho pass #ppp #spoilers #shinkane #akane tsunemori #kougami shinya #psycho pass providence

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megistusdiary · 2 years

Note

I’m not sure if you’ve written for Xiao yet… but I’m always curious of how people interpret his.. libido to say the least, considering he’s an adeptus and doesn’t feel emotion the same way humans do.

Maybe a shy Xiao were he’s not really sure HOW to ask reader to sleep with him so he tries to give “subtle” hint but they really aren’t as subtle as he thinks.

BTW I love your writing ahhhh

(Can I claim an emoji.. idk how that works tbh I never leave asks so if I can… could I be like, 🥀 anon?? Thanks!!! 💜)

hi there! of course you can be 🥀 anon, welcome to my page :D i'm also very happy you like my writing ♡♡♡ tysm for reading

also i have actually only written two pieces for xiao which are as follows:

1) jealous dom xiao

2) consensual somno with dom xiao

i like to think that xiao doesn't know much about sex except that when done between a male and female, you can create another human sometimes

he doesn't really understand the love-making part of intercourse, so i have an idea of who he would try to ask lol

honestly this has a lot of plot. i have been writing so much these past few days, phew! when i have the time, i am a writing machine haha

warnings: switch!xiao and switch!fem anatomy/pronouns reader

nervous xiao, handjob (xiao receiving), lots of touching/making out lol, first-time sex for both of you :) , lube, fingering/penetration (reader receiving), soft ♡, kissing, baizhu is here but just as a side character because i ♡ him

the leather-bound book sat heavy on your desk in xiao's memory, unable to remove itself from his thoughts.

slightly worn around the edges and held closely to your face while you read it, lips thoroughly bitten. you seemed to think you were so sly when you hid that book behind you whenever he mentioned it.

so it was unusual that he had found it on your desk, for once unguarded by your form. xiao innocently opened the unlabeled cover to see what you had been reading so intently this week.

barely a few sentences in to the page, he immediately realized this was some type of erotic book. he was unfamiliar with some of these terms, purely from a lack of knowledge of human intimacies.

when he finally reached the end of the page, he snapped out of his trance, slamming the book shut with so much force it scattered the pages of your report to the floor.

never had the yaksha been more thoroughly embarrassed, cheeks stained red as he clutched his head.

he knew humans were odd, but he had never seen such a crude book. he never pegged you for the type to be interested in such things. how could one want to read about the act of producing a child?

odd.

perhaps that's how xiao ended up seeking out a personal consultation with the popular pharmacist from bubu pharmacy.

as uncomfortable as it was, the doctor was happy to make his acquaintance, keeping an even-toned expression when he welcomed the yaksha in after hours.

"i understand these concepts might be unfamiliar to you, though i mean no disrespect. these types of things are different from public displays of affection, and they aren't so easily written in literature."

xiao begged to differ based upon that book you left out so haphazardly on your desk for anyone to see.

he allowed the doctor to explain things in the most scientific way possible, trying to remain calm and collected until the yaksha suddenly held up a hand to stop him.

"i...appreciate your effort, but i already understand the act of procreation. i just don't..comprehend why humans seem to enjoy it so much."

baizhu paused, determining the best way to answer the question before he finally understood why xiao really wanted to see him. "i see. you're asking about why lovers like it so much." baizhu barely stifled a chuckle. "to be honest, it's been a while since i have done that myself, but it isn't so much about the act itself."

"how so?"

"it's about being vulnerable with someone. allowing them to see all of you while you see all of them. it's hard to let ourselves be open with everyone, especially if we have a particularly traumatic past. it can lead to becoming guarded." xiao frowned at this. "but, when you're with someone special, a normally uncomfortable situation becomes tender. intercourse becomes love-making." baizhu scratched the back of his neck, wondering if any of this was even sticking. "ah, i'm sorry if-"

xiao abruptly stood, silencing the doctor. "no need to apologize. i understand now. thank you for your time, doctor."

"oh, before you go-" baizhu stood up slower than xiao, reaching behind the counter to collect a small brown bag. "it might not be my place, but i always see mr. zhongli from the wangsheng funeral parlor here collecting peculiarly strong medicine for someone in liyue. it might be presumptuous of me, but, here." he held the bag out towards xiao. "it'll save mr. zhongli a trip here."

xiao gingerly took the bag, holding it in one palm before practically vanishing before baizhu's eyes. the pharmacist smiled to himself, shaking his head before locking up the pharmacy doors and heading home.

it had been a few days since then, and after continuous thinking, he finally decided it was the right time to ask you to do this with him.

you seemed to thoroughly enjoy that book, so surely, it would be even better to experience the real thing, no?

although, xiao had no idea how to bring this to your attention without sounding crude. why was he so nervous about something so simple? he was a yaksha. why were trivial human matters frightening to him?

when you finally came home that evening, you were surprised to see xiao waiting for you, standing in the doorway at attention, watching you almost drop your bag.

"oh, xiao-" you held a hand over your heart, laughing to yourself. "you scared me a little there."

you walked past him, opting to unpack your bag as xiao focused his steel gaze upon your form. "i don't know if you're hungry or not, but i brought your favorite." you turned, holding the container of almond tofu with a big grin.

you expected to see the usual hint of a smile on his own lips, though he seemed to remain neutral as you frowned slightly. "hey, is something wrong?" you started to feel concerned, worried you had upset the yaksha.

xiao clenched his fists as he huffed. "it's nothing. i appreciate the gesture."

you deflated a bit, causing xiao to feel that slight burn in his chest. guilt, he assumed. "alright, sure. i'll leave it here for you." you set the container back on the counter, rubbing your eyes as you put the rest of your things away.

xiao could take it no longer, wishing desperately to get this idea out of his head. "i read your book." he softly blurted out as you slowly turned towards him on your heels.

"what book-"

"the book."

"oh..." you fell silent, face feeling hot as you coughed. "well, i am, uh, sorry for traumatizing you with that, so...yeah." you averted your eyes, screaming at yourself inside your head. how could you forget to put that book back under your pillow? xiao was definitely going to disappear forever now. well done.

"do you want to try...that."

your eyes practically popped out from your skull, covering your mouth. "try what now?"

"intercourse. with- me."

xiao's face was as red as a tomato as you stared at him shocked. "i knew this was a foolish idea, i apologize for offending you. this is an insult to-"

"no!" you yelled out, moving your hands to his shoulders. "no, no, no you're misunderstanding!" you shook your head. "xiao, do you really mean it? you'd try it? with me?"

xiao nodded once, surprised by your overdramatic reaction. was it really as good as baizhu explained it to be?

he also wondered if his karmic debt would weigh too heavily on you for a moment before you gasped, shaking his shoulders with your excited gestures.

"oh, xiao, i...i wanted to ask you for a really long time. i just- i thought you'd never want to. and i never wanted to make you feel uncomfortable." you explained as xiao finally understood.

so you did want to create a child with him? to be honest, he wasn't quite sure if it was even possible, though he had heard stories of half adeptus children in liyue, namely that very popular lawyer woman.

"i'm willing to try." xiao nodded. he allowed you to excitedly lead him to the bedroom, stumbling over your own feet as you pulled him to the bed.

"there's really no need to be nervous." you told him sweetly, cradling his face between your palms as he willed himself to relax.

you were correct, and he hated to admit that a human was more wise than him.

you slowly leaned forward. "is this okay?" you questioned, noses nearly touching as he nodded, staying still and allowing you to approach him. you carefully pressed your lips to his, rubbing your thumbs across his cheekbones as you smiled into his mouth.

xiao's eyes fluttered shut as he allowed you to guide him, keeping his hands at his sides, awkwardly clutching at the blankets. you gently pulled away, feeling him lean forward to chase your lips before catching himself and opening his eyes.

you reached towards his hands now, holding them gently and placing them on your waist as you climbed into his lap. "there, that's better." you commented, kissing him deeper, swiping your tongue across the seam of his lips.

shockingly, xiao seemed to understand this gesture, parting his lips and allowing you to slide your tongue into his mouth. he seemed to find this sensation odd, gripping your hips a little tighter when you shifted against him.

he felt warm when you moved over his hips, pressing your weight down onto him as he groaned, feeling the strange sensations.

you smirked, grinding down against him as he leaned away, panting with spit-slicked lips as you held onto his shoulders tighter. "does that feel good?" you asked as his eyes closed once more, eyebrows furrowing. you giggled a little before stopping, hips growing tired before you suddenly let out a soft moan when xiao started moving your hips for you.

it was easy to forget his inhuman strength when he looked so soft. his grip was tight as he moved you at his leisure, inexperienced yet curious.

"have you- done this before?" you asked him, feeling warmth building in your core as xiao shook his head.

"never." he answered before pulling you against him once more, trembling a bit. "have you?" from the way you spoke and read it so freely, he was shocked to see you shyly shake your head.

"no...i was waiting for the right person." you admitted sheepishly. "i wanted it to be special." you smiled up at him, kissing his cheek.

xiao realized you were talking about him, making it feel like he had crystalflies in his stomach.

"here, i want to try something." you moved off his lap, opting to tug at the waistband of his pants. "we both take off some clothes so it isn't as awkward, okay?"

xiao was perplexed when he watched you shyly pull of your jacket. "i assumed it was normal to strip during this act. is it not natural?"

"huh?"

"being nude. why would you be uncomfortable with the idea?"

you paused, mouth opening and closing as you tried to think of an excuse. in that time, xiao took it upon himself to fully strip. "i have no shame in this form. i took it many years ago in honor of my savior. it is something of pride and loyalty. your form is to be respected." xiao reminded you as your eyes widened.

"well...okay." you took a deep breath, removing the rest of your clothing to match xiao as he carefully folded the fabric, placing it on the chair near the bed. "come here." you gestured as he moved towards you. "lean against the headboard."

xiao did as you commanded, feeling your gaze burn against his skin when you trailed your eyes down his body. you stopped just above his groin, feeling embarrassed as you leaned forward.

"oh! i almost forgot, i actually had something, well uh...just in case." you laughed nervously, reaching over to your nightstand, pulling out a small bottle of liquid.

"what is that?"

"it's supposed to make it easier by making your skin more slippery." you explained, uncapping the bottle to pour some on your fingers. "it'll feel much better with this. or so i've heard."

"from who?"

"...sources."

you ignored xiao's huff, carefully tracing a finger along his shaft as his hips jumped. "sensitive." you smiled, feeling his thighs go tense as you swirled your finger around the tip, playing with the slit as his cock slowly grew harder, leaning up against his stomach.

you moved your hand around him, carefully stroking in a gentle motion as he let out a groan from the slick sounds of your hand on his skin. "it...feels good, but strange-" xiao's hands clenched on the sheets as you moved your hand up and down, using the other hand to play with his heavy balls as he gasped.

as expected, he didn't last long, reaching his first orgasm quickly, coming all over your hand and his stomach, feeling sticky on your fingers as you gently eased him through his orgasm. he relaxed against the headboard, watching as you smiled to yourself.

the expression slowly faded when you realized he was still hard...?

"what- xiao, that's...weird? that's not supposed to happen."

xiao looked perplexed. "i thought humans are capable of enduring multiple orgasms."

"i mean, yeah, with breaks- they don't just keep going-" xiao cut you off by pulling you towards him, pressing your body to his.

"what do i do to return this favor?"

"well, i guess the equivalent would be fingering me? i'm not really sure about that though because-!" xiao reached his hand down to press against your wet cunt, feeling your hips jump against his touch. "xiao, hold on, i'm sensitive-"

he pressed his free hand against your fingers, collecting the leftover lube to press against your cunt, rolling his fingers over the skin messily. "xiao, there's a specific way to do it." your cheeks burned. "i'll show you." with one hand, you gripped his shoulder, the other reaching down to wrap around his wrist, feeling around for your clit until you positioned his finger pads just right.

"oh- there." you sighed, moving his fingers in circles as you moved your hips to match the motion.

"is this...adequate?"

"very," you laughed breathlessly. "but, i need you to do something else for me too."

"anything."

"before we try to put your...you know in me, i need to be, how should i say this, stretched out? they say it really hurts the first time...and i guess i'm just a little nervous because-"

"i promise i won't let anything hurt you." you were taken aback by xiao's sudden oath, looking deep into your eyes as your lips parted. "tell me what i need to do."

you carefully moved his hand down towards your hole, allowing him to feel for himself. "here?" he asked.

"yeah, just press in but be gentle, please." you whimpered as he dipped the tip of his index finger in, gently pushing as you shifted uncomfortably. "feels weird."

xiao stayed silent, eyebrows furrowed by the strange texture around his finger. it was tight, yet soft, wet, and warm as you sucked the digit in. he stuck another next to it, feeling you grip his shoulder tightly, hand falling from his wrist as you dug your nails into his bicep. "archons-"

he continued to push the digits in and out, sometimes moving his fingers a bit. he recalled baizhu explaining some of this. he called it 'fingering' or something along the lines. a fitting name indeed.

eventually you stopped him, gesturing for him to remove his fingers as he frowned. "is something wrong?"

"no, no, i just- i think i'm ready." you took a deep breath as he nodded.

he positioned his tip at your entrance, watching you worry your lip between your teeth as you felt it slowly enter you, tensing your body as he hissed.

"don't do that-" he groaned, grabbing your hips. "relax your muscles, it's too...tight."

you tried to relax, eyes tearing up slightly. it was not as excruciating as you expected, though the stretch did burn, and once you finally got through the hard part, xiao paused.

he allowed you to lean on him, taking shallow breaths as he smoothed a hand down your back. baizhu told him to be patient. he explained you would need time to adjust, that it could be painful taking something in your body this way.

xiao was glad he listened, finally feeling your heartbeat slow as he gently soothed you, albeit stiffly.

"are you okay?" he asked, feeling you nod against his shoulder. he carefully moved his hips experimentally, feeling you clutch your arms around his neck for stability, still pressed to his chest as he hummed, picking up the pace gradually.

you allowed him to buck into you at different angles, feeling him shiver as you kissed at his neck, humming into his skin.

"ah-" you suddenly arched when he hit your g-spot unexpectedly, eyes closing as xiao looked concerned. "that was- good, that was a good spot and-"

he pressed into it again, maintaining the angle of his hips as you trembled. "no, no, i'm gonna come if you keep doing that, xiao." you panicked, though he paid no mind, hearing going static as he continued to fuck up into you. "xiao-" you whined as he held you close to him.

he felt your soft breaths on his skin, hair tickling his neck as you suddenly jolted. "oh- i'm close, i'm really close, xiao, xiao-" you moaned lowly, desperately holding back.

"why are you afraid to experience orgasm?" xiao asked, breaking you from your stupor.

"huh?"

"why?"

"you...i need to keep up with you, xiao. if i- fuck, if i come now...you won't get to and i-"

"i don't mind." xiao admitted, focusing on the feeling of you squeezing around him. "i wanted to know what this was like. i didn't understand why humans were so fond of such things."

he reached down with a hand, sliding it down your stomach to press into your clit as you gasped. how did he remember where-

right. yaksha.

he had you trembling against him, orgasm washing over you as you went slack, leaning onto him and crying out his name as he shuddered, leaning back as you continued to squeeze him oh so tightly.

you felt blissed out as you slowly regained your senses, vision coming back to you as you smiled up at him.

your body still felt tingly, limbs numb as he slowly slid out of you. xiao could tell you were out of it, eyes hazy as he leaned down to kiss your head tenderly.

perhaps human intimacies weren't all completely useless.

#🥀─ 𝘢𝘯𝘰𝘯 ˚ૢ⋆˚#genshin impact #genshin smut #genshin impact smut #genshin impact x reader #genshin x reader #genshin impact x reader smut #xiao smut #xiao #genshin xiao #xiao x reader #switch xiao #💌─𝘢𝘳𝘪𝘴 𝘩𝘢𝘴 𝘮𝘢𝘪𝘭! ༊*·˚#✎─𝘥𝘪𝘢𝘳𝘺 𝘦𝘯𝘵𝘳𝘪𝘦𝘴 ❛ ༉‧₊˚

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peachesofteal · 3 days

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Hi. Phew no anon I'm sweating rn (pardon the typos btw)

I just read SM in one sitting, (on a long car ride) and I just wanted to expressive the love I have for your writings and the characters you've so meticulously crafted.

The pacing of the story is absolutely perfect. Fast enough to keep readers engaged, and slow enough to create tension and highlight the big steps in the development of the relationship

If it's alright, I wanted to share some of my thoughts on the story and the characters? If not, feel free to stop reading and delete this ask. But if you want to read, I've written some of my thought below.

First off, Bun.

You've created such a well rounded character with Bun. She has so many qualities that may seem the contradict each other, but they really just make her a foil for everyone around her. She emphasizes the traits of those around her by constantly adapting to constrast her present company, as a safety measure. If she's different, she never fits in. If she never fits in, people can't get close to her.

They won't know her if they're not close, and therefore she can't be hurt by them. So, whether subconsciously or not, she becomes the opposing force to each and every person she meets, as a way of maintaining distance.

She is the reality to Philips delusion, the sanity, to his psychoticism. She's gives the hard work to cover her coworkers slacking, she's the determination to their apathy. She's the paranoia in the places where everyone else feels safe. She's lonely in the face of such overpowering unity, in the face of family and love. She's the flushed cheeks that are the result of Johnny's blunt flirting. She's the cowering child in the arms of a battle-hardened man, and she's torn herself apart trying to rationalize her own existence after everything she's been through.

I kind of imagine she's like the mirror she thinks so much about. She's was once a stunning piece of beautiful craftsmanship, a big panel of glass with perfectly straight edges, an intricate gold-gilded frame, a shimmering silver surface, the centerpiece of every room she's in. Her smarts, her wit, her charm always reflecting rays of light onto the world around her. She was incredible, until she wasn't. Someone broke the nails that held her up, and she shattered into a million pieces.

Everyone she meets gets a piece, but no one has the whole picture. Everyone has a different piece, which means she's not the same to any two people. She's a spitfire to Phillip, a soft and sweet bunny to the boys, a motivated worker to her colleagues, and to herself? A collection of jagged shards, and she cuts up her hands trying to rid herself of the pieces she can't afford to keep. Pieces of her past life and her past self.

Moving on,

I really appreciate the more intricate characterization of all your characters, but especially Simon. It's a lovely change to see a perspective of Simon from the other side of the tunnel, so to speak. Not only is it refreshing to see him able to process his emotions so healthily, but it's quite thought provoking as well. It's engaging to see him as a someone who coexists with his trauma, rather than railing against it. Allowing himself to finally accept that it's part of who he is, but not all of him. Seeing him turn something that was once a crippling weakness, into strength, is so cool. I think it's an interesting reflection of his physical prowess, onto his mental state. Showing that his strength is not exclusive to his body, but that it extends to his mind as well.

Also, the way he utilizes the knowledge he gained from past hardships to help Bun?? Such a stark difference from his usual actions in fics, but somehow still perfectly in character for him. Very "Simon-esque" if you will.

I also just read your personal update, the one about the Winter-to-Spring transition. I really hope this doesn't sound patronizing, but I want you to know how strong and talented you are. You seem steadfast in your self identity and I really admire that. Not to mention how incredible of a storyteller you are. Your work gives me motivation and inspiration to keep writing, so that hopefully mine can be as beautiful as yours someday :)

I also wanted to let you know how much I enjoy your work and appreciate you sharing your experiences. I am not (don't have?) bipolar, but I do struggle with other mental illnesses, and your post really made me feel better about the stability of my own future.

Which made me wonder, do you think you drew inspiration from your own experiences in order to create your Simon? I just saw some similarities in the way you both have begun to use your knowledge of hardship to assist others. Maybe it was subconscious? Or maybe it was purely coincidental? Either way, I think both you and your Simon are amazing for doing so.

Thank you for writing and sharing and just being a positive presence on here. I'm so so glad I found your account, and I'm excited to read any future works you release :)

Also, care of yourself and remember that you don't owe anyone on Tumblr anything. It's your writing and you should write and post only when you feel up to it <3

I’ve spent a few days trying to figure out how to answer this and haven’t come up with an super effective strategies so I’m just going to:

First thanks so much for taking the time to type this out and send it to me. I really appreciate it and you, and I’m thrilled you’re enjoying Simple Math!

I think your mirror synopsis is pretty on point, Bunny is a million different pieces of a shattered mirror, all trying to reflect different parts. She’s complicated. She’s not herself, and that’s still something she’s trying to learn. She’s also very traumatized which explains the reasoning behind why she has done and may do some things.

I’ve talked about this before but Simon in Simple Math is really my dream for his character. He’s emotionally regulated and mature, he’s patient, he’s kind, he’s been through years and years of therapy. He recognizes his trauma but he doesn’t let it hold such a grip anymore. Of course, the situation with Bun brings up painful memory and feelings, but he’s stable and secure enough to recognize and process those feelings. He’s a family man. I love him, but I don’t think I draw anything from my personal life as I write him.

As a note to your comment about the stability of your future: I’m glad you could find some comfort in that post and I know everything feels really difficult sometimes, especially when you’re struggling, but things can even out and get better. When I was younger I didn’t believe I’d have a future, and if you had told me “it gets better!” I would have laughed in your face and launched into some long spiel trying to shut you down. But… it does. Things can get better and become stable. It takes time.

Thank you so much for reading!

#peaches asks

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balladingbard · 11 months

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Some Thoughts on Elidibus (and Why We May See Him Again)…

I know it’s technically end of the embargo, so I’ll spoiler tag just in case, but phew…let’s talk about Elidibus' character arc and that ending in Pandæmonium, eh?

I admit that as far as the unsundered went, Emet-Selch has always been my favorite. But boy howdy did Pandæmonium shoot Elidibus to the top spot for a tie.

One of the things I noticed that the raid series as a whole did beautifully was show just how close Elidibus and (our) Azem was in the past. We like to think that the Emet-Hyth-Azem trio was the strongest relationship (and it probably was), but Pandæmonium hints that Elidibus was probably just as close to Azem, very similarly like G’raha Tia is with the WoL. Elidibus calls Azem “his dear friend”, just like Emet-Selch, and from what we can gather (he being the 13th seat and Azem being the 14th), they worked closely together. Elidibus mentions in a side comment that Azem would take over his duties while he was in Pandæmonium, and it was the both of them who initially started the investigation.

I used to wonder why the devs compared G’raha to Elidibus, when in the final showdown in Shadowbringers, I didn’t really see the connection. But now that we see the full picture, it’s a lot more clear. Emet-Selch mentions in “Ere Our Curtain Falls” that Elidibus really looked up to the Convocation members. But in that same story, we see Elidibus pondering “Azem’s fresh perspective on things”, much to Emet’s chagrin. Lahabrea even makes a side comment in Pandæmonium about Azem’s influence on Elidibus, and just like G’raha is inspired by the WoL, Elidibus is inspired by Azem.

But there’s another interesting tidbit that may be a bit of a stretch, I admit, but I can’t help but wonder all the same (and it relates to our influence on him.)

I think Elidibus’ journey with us in Pandæmonium inspired him to leave Zodiark.

We know that the Convocation (aside from Azem) was very big on observing. Let things happen naturally and all that. In the start of Pandæmonium, Elidibus is clear on investigating things like a typical Convocation member would. But after seeing the Warrior of Light and Erichthonios’ devotion to rescuing the other warders, and how successful they were at it, Elidibus’ tune begins to change. In our last conversation in the Aetherial Sea, we see Elidibus mention that seeing the Warrior of Light “cross this vast expanse” simply due to being devoted to their allies was something he could now understand.

Did the devotion he saw in us (and even Erichthonios) become the catalyst that made him leave Zodiark? It’s hard to say, but he mentions in the Crystal Tower that he left Zodiark to return to his people because they were disagreeing and he was needed. He wasn’t content to sit back and observe like he was supposed to. Instead, he left his spot as Zodiark’s heart and jumped back into the chaos (much like Azem/WoL would’ve done.)

Speaking of Zodiark, Pandæmonium makes a clear point just who was the real Elidibus. Throughout the raid series, despite revealing himself as Elidibus, he is called "Themis". Even after the raid's conclusion, his true name remains. Yet throughout ARR-Endwalker, he retains his title.

In "Ere Our Curtain Falls", Emet-Selch mentions that the change in Elidibus' personality and being started after he separated from Zodiark.

One of the most common questions that has come up over the years as who the Ascians are (and what motivated them) is, "Are they villains? Heroes? Or a bit of both?" Depending on who you ask, you'll get a different answer, but I think Pandæmonium revealed a tragedy about Elidibus. While Emet-Selch and Lahabrea made clear and concise choices (with some tempering from Zodiark, but as the Loporrits said, it was more of a gentle tug than full-blown mind control), Elidibus' was more...muddled. At the time of the sundering, he was essentially a primal. His actions and motivations are guided by the hopes and prayers of the people. Were the decisions he made as an Ascian his choice? And if they were, how much influence did being a primal have on those choices?

We often compare Ysayle/Shiva to Elidibus in explaining becoming a human primal, but Ysayle's Shiva was based on her choices and hopes. Elidibus' was based on an entire people. And as Erichthonios says in the Aetherial Sea, "Themis would never have wanted to be your enemy." Words in a story matter - and I can't help but wonder if this was the writer's way of saying that had Elidibus not had that primal influence, perhaps he wouldn't have gone down the Ascian road.

All that is to say, Pandæmonium showed us the real Elidibus. Not the primal, not the Ascian, but Themis - the young prodigy who looked up to heroes and wanted to be one himself (cough cough G'raha Tia).

And so that leaves us with a final point - what was up with that ending?

One of the things Elidibus mentions in both Seat of Sacrifice and in Pandæmonium Circle 11 is immortality. I've seen some mention this as well as it's a bit odd that Elidibus keeps mentioning it. "I am immortal" and "I am the emissary, and I shall never die" are sentences that have big meaning and aren't to be thrown around lightly (especially since the guy saying it is dead at this point.)

I think his talk on immortality is in regards to his soul - that despite the cycle of death and rebirth, his soul lives on. And as we see in his journey through the Aetherial Sea, his soul is still going strong. But Pandæmonium throws a curve ball at us, showing Elidibus pondering on the state of the star. The victors write history, he muses, but then he mentions the path the star is taking, almost as if he's concerned. I've heard others mention that with the sundering, the other shards tend to gravitate towards unbalance and that can cause calamities, and with Hydaelyn and Zodiark out of the picture, there's really no one to make sure things stay in place. Perhaps this is what Elidibus is thinking about? How perhaps there's something going on and the star is headed towards disaster, and as the judge who weighed the scales and kept things in balance, he felt as if something needed to be done.

I agree with a lot of folks that him "seeing the light" at the end was him being reborn. How, when, and where is, of course, a mystery, but I do think that this was him "jumping back into the fight" like Azem. He's not one to sit idle and observe like the others, and out of the unsundered, he'd be the first to skip the nap and dive right back in. But as I've said before, words in stories have meaning. And especially with game writing, because words are few and far between in these cutscenes, they carry an even bigger importance.

Why show Elidibus being "reborn" if we don't see him again?

Grant it, it could just be a poetic end where it's a story of his redemption and it's meant to make us say, "Yay! Themis is going to get a second chance and maybe be a hero this time!" But I think there's more to it.

First, seeing the light I think means more than just being reborn. It could also symbolize that he's coming back as a true-blue Warrior of Light (or at least as close as one can be now that Hydaelyn's gone.) Second, his soul was originally left in the First. Somehow, he ended back up in the Source (and we aren't sure how), but perhaps seeing the light means he's going back to the First to be reborn? With time being a bit funky between the shards, it wouldn't be impossible to see a young Themis gallivanting around the First as a hero soon. And then there's the influence of him being Zodiark's heart. Did it somehow affect his soul and the cycle of rebirth? Is he truly immortal as he's been saying and somehow, we'll see Themis pop up and say, "Surprise! I'm back!"

Time will tell and I'm sure in the coming expansions, we'll get answers. Either way, bravo on the writers for such a touching and wonderful send-off to Elidibus.

#endwalker spoilers #warrior of light #endwalker #elidibus #themis #pandaemonium spoilers #6.4 spoilers #ascians #ffxiv lore

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satureja13 · 25 days

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(There is a Poll below) Vlad is still playtesting. And while he took a walk through the village and admired Tiny Can's work, it slowly went dark, the stands closed and the folks went to the Lion's Pride Inn.

He heard the music from the inside. 'The Dublin Pub Crawl' by The Irish Rovers was playing.

'We all went in to Kitty McGee's for we're a jolly crew We all went in to Kitty McGee's to have a drink or two Kitty McGee's, in Dublin town upon the crawl A hell of a time was had by all, down where the beer and whiskey flew'

He had nowhere to go and so he went in. Maybe someone takes pity on him and gives him some food? He already felt a bit weak on his legs. And his job at the sculptor only started early next morning... There are so many known faces here! Ms. Coombes, their former teacher, Travis (Jeb and Ji Ho's Roadie) and Uncle Stefan, who raised Jack. But they are just NPCs Tiny Can created and none of them recognized him.

As soon as Gia, the bartender, saw Vlad, she stopped him. Gia: "I'm sorry. You can't enter as long as your status is unclear. Go to the castle after you got paid tomorrow and ask for an audience to talk to the Queen about your status. You can sleep in the shack behind the Inn and I'll care for your horse after my shift. But that's all I can do for you."

And so Vlad went over to the shack...still hungry. Let's hope Diablo finds a better place for the night. At least he can eat some grass and would't have to go to sleep hungry. And then this cute - but somehow really delicious looking bunny approached Vlad... should he...? It's just a game. But the thought of eating a bunny makes him uncomfortable. He does eat meat, but killing the animal himself is a whole different thing. But he's so hungry. And he'll have to survive the night and the next day working before he gets paid...

Vlad tried to escape this situation by going to (try to) sleep. But when he stood up and stepped inside the shack, he saw stars and almost fell unconscious. He has no choice...

In the meantime, Gia was caring for Diablo. The way she looks at him. Is she having the same thoughts about Diablo as Vlad has about the bunny? Ö.ö'

Phew. She finally leaves the stable. But Diablo decides it's better to stay awake and alert. No one will eat him. No matter how 'useless' they think he is!

Gia: "You weren't about to eat that bunny, were you?" Vlad: "Uhm..."

Gia: "You really must be very hungry then." And she gave him a plasma fruit! A HFN for Vlad and the bunny ^^'

This will help him (and the bunny) to survive the night and the next day. After he had the plasma fruit (that really tasted like a real one outside of the game), he lay on the straw in the shack and pondered about his ingame experiences so far. Even though many events here were upsetting and annoying, they still were managable and there had been no moment where he wanted to scream 'OUT!'. So Tiny Can improved a lot. And of course the Therapy Game will be annoying and hard. They all know that. Therapy is no rose garden after all and as far as he can speak for the others, they are determined to change their lives for the better and are willing to work hard for it. And he will help them by testing this game and make sure it's safe for them. He decided to playtest also the following day and then report back to Saiwa. And then he fell asleep under the stars that shone through the missing shingles of the shack and the bunny watched over his sleep...

TMI: Even though Vlad got killed by the Killer Bunny once, he isn't resentful. Vlad's sweet memories with Bunnies: on their trip to Henford and at Beltane.

The situation with hungry Vlad and the bunny reminds me of some quests in games that gave me a hard time. There was one in World of Warcraft where I had to use torture on a prisioner to get information. It's many years ago. I did it but I still feel uncomfortable about this. Killing when I get attacked ingame is ok for me, but this - I don't know. I play computer games for over 40 years now and I am still not dulled ^^' Do other players even have such thoughts? Let's find out:

You are also very welcome to leave a comment with your thoughts.

This is a very enthralling topic for me these days while we explore the Therapy Game and there will be more situations like this. I'm so curious how the Boys will deal with them. It's also very different from other games because the Boys act as themselves and it really feels like they are a part of their ingame surroundings.

From the Beginning ~ Underwater Love ~ Latest 🕹️ 'Therapy Game' from the beginning ▶️ here 📚 Previous Chapters: Chapters: 1-6 ~ 7-12 ~ 13-16 ~ 17-22 ~ 23-28

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chaosmagicss · 2 years

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love in the dark (wanda maximoff x reader)

synopsis: your plan is simple; get through your senior year and make it to college with minimal fuss. what you aren't expecting is the spanner in the works that is wanda maximoff and her stupidly kissable lips.

series warnings: high school au (everyone is 18), secret relationship, jealousy, allusions to and brief mentions of smut, fluff, angst

chapter warnings: post-breakup sadness, very very brief smut (like, two sentences), alcohol

words: 4.7k

a/n: PHEW! my god, sorry this is so freaking late, but here!! the last chapter!!! i just wanna say thanks SO MUCH for all the support on this lil series, i really really appreciate it, truly. and while this is the last proper chapter, i've got a lil spinoff thing & MAYBE an epilogue lined up, sooo keep an eye out for those ;)

The world sort of starts to drag after the break up.

Your mother lets you take the next day off school, and you spend the weekend in bed, watching old animated movies from when you were younger and crying probably a little too much over the sad parts in the films. By Monday, your mother is practically pushing you out the door, enforcing her belief that the best way to handle sadness is by wallowing and then persevering, and according to her, you’d done enough wallowing to last at least a month. You knew that if you really pushed, she’d let you stay home for as long as you wanted, but you missed Carol and your eyes were starting to hurt from staring at a screen for so long, so school seemed like the best option.

Carol, thankfully, doesn’t give you an ounce of pity. You can tell she’s worried, but she doesn’t suffocate you with it - she bumps into your shoulder and grins from ear to ear when she finds you in the hallway, telling you she was worried your days as an active member of society were over.

You’d rolled your eyes, smiling your first genuine smile in days.

Until, of course, you looked to the side and saw her. She was talking with Steve and Nat, leaning against the lockers, arms crossed over her chest, and your heart dropped when she looked in your direction and caught you looking. She blinked, straightened up, lips parting, and god, it had looked like she was going to walk over.

You’d torn your eyes away, looped your arm through Carol’s and pulled so hard it was probably a miracle her arm didn’t come out of the socket. She’d started to protest, but it must’ve clicked pretty fast, because she fell silent and simply let you lead her away.

So, that’s how it’s been for almost three weeks - you avoiding Wanda Maximoff at every cost, slipping out of shared classes before she could make an effort to talk to you, ignoring the feeling of her eyes on you in the cafeteria as you picked mindlessly at your food, willing yourself not to look over. You and Carol didn’t talk about it past a I’m here if you wanna talk about it, you know that, right? Instead, you talked about how she finally grew a pair and asked Natasha to prom, that Natasha had said yes, and that Carol wasn’t sure if Nat wanted to match outfits or if that was too much. Val was tagging along with Thor and Loki, and the three were in the midst of conspiring a way to sneak any sort of alcohol into prom. So, talks of Carol and Natasha, of Val trying to enlist the two of you into joining her criminal activities and you having to convince Carol it was not a good idea, but no talk of Wanda.

Oh, except for the fact that her and Jarvis broke up.

Apparently, she’d been the one to pull the pin, at least that’s what Carol heard from Natasha. Despite your curiosity, you decide you don’t want to know more. It doesn’t matter. It doesn’t change anything, not really.

Only that Wanda was going to college in New York, instead of going to England.

But it doesn’t matter.

You don’t care.

It doesn’t change anything.

You’re so bummed about everything Wanda that when you get the acceptance letter from MIT, you barely have it in you to celebrate. It lifts your spirits, sure, and you smile when Carol and your mother both wrap you in bone-crushing hugs, but the second you get the urge to pull out your phone and tell Wanda, the good mood pretty much dies.

It doesn’t help that, when Tony approaches you at school as you’re packing up your locker in the locker room to quietly ask your result - he hugs you when you tell him, too, swears with a scout’s honour that he had nothing to do with it - you catch Wanda watching where she’s standing with Sam and Nat, and she looks away quickly when she realises she’s been spotted. She blushes, fingers curling into her bicep where she’s gripping her arm, and the deja vu is almost nauseating.

On top of everything, you’ve decided you don’t want to go to prom. Despite Carol’s insistence that it’s okay to join her and Nat, that Natasha wants you to join them instead of staying home, you can’t bring yourself to do it. It’s been difficult enough avoiding Wanda at school, so avoiding her while being stuck in the same gymnasium as her for a minimum of three hours? Impossible. You weren’t willing to run that risk.

Which is how, on prom night, you find yourself cross-legged on the couch with pizza, watching Pitch Perfect. You’ve made peace with it, even if Carol has spent the last four hours saying you should come. She gave up about half an hour ago, and on any other night, the radio silence would be concerning. But you’ve convinced yourself it’s fine.

Until there’s a knock at the door at the same time you get a text from her that simply reads:

Open the door or so help me

You groan, loudly, leaning your head back and hope she’ll give up.

You should know better, truly.

The knocking becomes insistent, and Carol starts shouting. You’re scrambling off the couch in a heartbeat - she’s done this before, and that ended in a complaint from your grouchy neighbours to the right. You whip the door open so forcefully it’s a surprise it doesn’t come straight off the hinges.

“Carol, I swear to God–” She slips past you and into the house, and you falter a little when you notice Natasha behind her, a suit jacket and pants on a coat hanger in her hold. The redhead smiles, and you open the door wider and step aside to let her in. “Carol, what–”

“You know that black button down you’ve got? Do you know where it is?” She’s already halfway up the stairs.

You sigh. “Dude, I’m not–”

“Yes, you are,” she calls down. “There’s no way you’re missing prom ‘cause there’s a chance you might run into your ex–”

“Carol!” you snap, because Natasha’s right there.

Nat chuckles. “Relax, Y/N. I know about you and Wanda.”

You whip your head around to face her, and she raises her eyebrows teasingly. “Danvers!” you start again, infuriated by the notion that she told Natasha, Wanda’s best friend, about your very secret relationship.

“Carol didn’t tell me,” Nat eases, putting a hand on your back. “I’ve known for a while. We both sort of figured it out together. You two weren’t as subtle as you think you were.”

You flush, averting your eyes. “Does, um, everyone know?”

Natasha nods. “Yeah, sort of,” she says. “When she broke up with Jarvis, she said there was someone, but didn’t specify, but pretty much everyone has their guesses.”

You nod, clearing your throat. “Great.”

“But, I mean, that wasn’t the reason she gave him,” she clarifies. “Said it was ‘cause it’s not what she wanted. Out of life, I mean. She only mentioned someone when he pushed.”

You relax a little, glad that it wasn’t a choice she made just because of you. Your relief must show on your face, because Nat’s face softens. A small grin pulls at her lips, but before she can say anything, Carol is back. She practically shoves the clothes into your arms, ignoring your displeased expression. “Okay. Put that on. We’re late.”

“Carol, I…”

“Please,” Carol says. “You’re my best friend. I don’t wanna go without you.” You sigh a little, shaking your head. “You don’t even have to stay long. Alright? Just show up, find out if Thor managed to sneak the drinks in. You’ll regret it if you don't.”

“I’m not so sure about that,” you mutter sarcastically, and Carol clicks her tongue.

“Chop chop, we’re on the clock, bucko.” You roll your eyes, but can’t fight your grin when you catch the blonde’s eyes. She grins back at you, waggling her eyebrows before she pushes gently. “Now.”

As you’re stepping into the gymnasium with Natasha’s grip on your hand like a vice, you think you might be able to handle this.

But then you do a quick scan of the crowd and you find Wanda looking right back at you. She looks fucking gorgeous; the dark red dress she’s wearing fits her like a glove, the neckline dipping dangerously low, her hair cascading down her back. Your feet freeze, and you watch Pietro notice you too before he leans in to whisper something in Wanda’s ear. She blinks, glancing briefly at her brother, who nods, before she looks back at you and takes a step forward.

“I can’t do this,” you mutter.

You manage to catch Natasha by surprise and pull your hand out of hers, and you hear Carol calling for you as you spin and start to make your way back towards the entrance. You don’t look back, and eventually Carol’s voice stops and another starts.

“Y/N!” You refuse to look back at her, shaking your head sharply as you slip through the crowd, ignoring the annoyed murmurs as the students part to let you through. “Y/N, wait.”

“No.”

“Y/N. Can you please just listen—” A hand catches your wrist just as you’ve stepped out the door, jolting you to a stop at the bottom of the steps.

You shake your head even as you turn to look up at her, pulling your hand out of her grip. “I’m not doing this, Wanda.”

Her jaw clenches in frustration, and you have to blink back the sudden onslaught of tears as you turn around again, all too aware of the eyes that are quickly tuning into the confrontation. You swallow thickly, turning on your heel, avoiding eye contact with anyone and ignoring Wanda’s stammering.

Until, “I love you!”

You go still as a few small gasps are heard, and you whirl around to face her. She lets out a heavy breath, her fingers curling and uncurling into fists and you watch the reality of the situation dawn on her. You can see from here the tears that form in her eyes.

“That’s - that’s not funny, Wanda.”

She shakes her head, your voice seemingly snapping her out of her thoughts as she takes four long strides to reach you, her hands catching the lapels of your suit jacket before you can step away from her.

“Wanda—”

“I love you,” she says again. Your heart is pounding so hard it hurts. Her gaze drops to your mouth for a few seconds before she finds your eyes again, and she’s frantic. “I know I messed up, but I want to be with you, because I love you, and I think… I think you love me, too.”

I do, you want to say. Of course I do.

Wanda swallows hard at your silence. “I don’t expect you to forgive me. Not immediately. But I want… I want to fix this. Fix us. I just - I just…” A beat, her fingers squeezing in your jacket. “Kiss me?”

The request is soft, shy, hopeful. Her hands shift, sliding up to cup your jaw. You swallow thickly, studying her face carefully before your gaze shifts, darting to the handful of people who are trying their best to pretend they aren’t watching. Her fingers press into your jaw, a silent urge for you to look back at her.

You do as much, heart still beating uncomfortably inside your chest. “Are you sure?”

She nods, eyes dropping to your lips. “Please.”

“There…” You take a breath, drop your voice to a whisper. “People are watching.”

Wanda gives you a thin smile, nods softly. “I know,” she murmurs. “I don’t care if they see. Not even a little.”

It’s all you need to hear. You grab her waist and pull her closer as your lips find hers in a kiss that’s hard and desperate, and you can taste the salt from her tears and absolutely nothing else matters. With her lips on yours, that puzzle piece that was missing in the last few weeks clicks right back into place. How something, someone, can feel so right is terrifying and exhilarating and you love her. She pulls away to breathe, her hands dropping to grip your jacket again.

“I love you,” she whispers it this time, eyes on yours. “I’m in love with you.”

“What - what about your parents?”

Wanda smiles, eyes watery. “I told my mother,” she says. “She - she said she’d make my father come around. Things will be different now. I won’t hide you. I don’t want to hide you. I promise, Y/N.”

You pull in a shaking breath, cupping her face in your hands, thumbs stroking tenderly over her skin as you try to string together a sentence that will properly convey the things you’re feeling right now. When words fail you, you kiss her. She sighs against your lips, her hands coming up to rest against your neck, her thumbs brushing tenderly along your jawline.

“I love you,” you whisper when you break apart for air. Wanda’s breath hitches, and she nudges her nose with yours.

“Let’s get out of here,” she murmurs. “We can talk. And then, if you want, just meet up with everyone later.”

“Mine or yours?” you ask softly.

“I don’t care,” she says quietly. “Just wanna be where you are.”

“Okay,” you grin, heart bursting. You kiss her cheek. “Okay, come on.”

Wanda grins back at you, lacing her fingers with yours when you take her hand and start to guide her to the carpark, weaving through the latecomers with giddy smiles on your faces. She doesn’t let go of your hand the whole way home, toying mindlessly with your fingers as you drive. She only lets go of you to get out of the car, and then she grabs your hand again to pull you towards the front door. The second you’ve got your key in the door and have pushed it open, Wanda’s taking your face in her hands and pulling your mouth to hers. You kick the door shut, wrapping your arms around her waist to pull her against you as she kisses you.

The two of you stumble upstairs, and the second you’re in your room, Wanda’s trying to pull off your suit jacket, giggling against your lips as you fall into your bed. She pulls you on top of her, humming against your mouth as her legs wind around your waist as much as the dress she’s wearing allows.

“I love you,” she whispers, over and over, as your kisses trail down her neck and her fingers find their way beneath her skirt. When she gasps, head tipping back, you echo the sentiment against her throat, heart thumping with anticipation.

Sometime later, when you and Wanda have changed into comfy clothes and Wanda is resting her head on your shoulder, toying absently with your fingers, she says, “Y/N?” You hum, twining your fingers together, running your thumb against hers. Wanda swallows hard. “Does… does this mean we’re together?”

You take a breath, heart pounding all of a sudden. “We’re going to college soon,” you whisper, and Wanda nods, and doesn't stop playing with your fingers. “We’d have to do long distance.”

“I know,” she murmurs, and then clears her throat. “It’s… it’s worth it. Y’know? I mean, it’s only an hour’s flight. I can - I can fly up and visit. Or you can come visit me. And we can video call during the semesters. It might get hard, but I… I’d like to try. If… I mean - if that’s what you want.” She pushes up onto an elbow to look down at you, her lips kiss swollen and her hair a mess, and you fall in love all over again. “Is that what you want?”

You smile softly, reaching up to push hair out of her eyes, behind her ear. “I have never, in my life, wanted anything more.”

Wanda’s smile is so bright it’s almost blinding.

When you show up at Tony’s party later that night, hand in hand, your friends practically explode into cheers. It’s completely embarrassing, and you’re sure you’re blushing like crazy, but when Wanda just giggles and squeezes your hand as she hides a little against your shoulder, a content warmth blossoms in your chest.

You wouldn’t have it any other way.

You’re so nervous, your legs are wobbly. Wanda’s grip on your hand is tight, reassuring as she follows Pietro towards the front door. The twins had insisted it was perfectly fine to stay the night - apparently, Iryna had even encouraged it - but you couldn’t shake the nerves nonetheless. You suppose you felt a little guilty, having lied to Iryna for as long as you did, and the idea of her being angry with you was terrifying, to say the least. You’d even gone as far to avoid her whenever you knew she was puttering around in your home during the week, and now knowing that she’s known of you and Wanda’s relationship since the day you broke up, you really were worried she would be upset with you.

But Wanda had pulled out the doe-eyes-and-pout move, and you hadn’t stood a chance.

Pietro opens the door, announcing, “Mama, we’re home!” as he does, and Wanda presses a quick kiss to your shoulder when you tense up.

You swallow thickly as Iryna comes into view, pausing when Pietro drops a kiss to her cheek as he moves into the kitchen. She’s watching you in a way you can’t decipher, a trait you’ve come to realise that Wanda has inherited, and it makes you want to fidget under her gaze. Wanda squeezes your hand gently before letting go and stepping away, and your fingers twitch with the urge to reach for her again.

But Iryna steps forward, coming to a stop in front of you and reaching up to cup your face, and for a second you think she might kill you. You swallow hard, intimidated by her silence, but then, a tiny, almost mischievous smile pulls at her lips.

“You’ll be good to my daughter, yes?”

Your breath leaves you in a relieved huff, and you nod. “Yes, ma’am.”

Her smile becomes a full, warm one, and she gently pinches your cheek before dropping her hands to your shoulders. “You’re a good girl, Y/N,” she says. “You have my blessing.”

You couldn’t not smile even if your life depended on it. Your cheeks flush, and Iryna’s smile widens as she steps away, shooting Wanda a quick wink on her way back towards the kitchen. Your eyes find Wanda, who bites into her lip to try and hide her smile until her mother is out of sight, and she all but leaps into your arms. You grab her with a small laugh, squeezing her tight and setting her down. Her arms wind around your neck as she beams up at you, and she leans in to press a chaste kiss to your lips.

“See?” she says. “I told you, you had nothing to worry about.”

You hum thoughtfully, gently squeezing her waist and kissing the corner of her mouth, her cheek. “Maybe I should listen to you more often,” you mumble.

Wanda hums in agreement, turning her face to catch your lips. “Mm, I think you should,” she murmurs against your mouth. You huff a good-natured laugh, kiss her again.

Her hands slide onto your jaw as you lick at her bottom lip, and she sighs quietly when you deepen the kiss, pulling her flush against you.

“Okay, that’s disgusting.”

You pull away to find Pietro, who, despite his words, is grinning at the two of you. Still, you take a step back, wiping at your mouth in an attempt to make sure there’s no remnants of Wanda’s lipstick on your face.

“Pietro, don’t be an ass,” Wanda says sternly, hand finding its home in yours as she twines your fingers. He holds his hands up in surrender and takes a few steps closer.

“I’m not!” he says. “I just think it’s gross watching you make out with your girlfriend in the middle of the house.”

Your cheeks flush at the teasing grin he shoots you, but Wanda just turns her chin up at him. “Fine,” she says, starting to pull you towards the stairs, “I’ll go make out with her in my room.”

“Gross,” he says loudly.

“Pietro, don’t be mean,” Iryna calls from another room.

Halfway up the stairs, Wanda turns around just long enough to stick her tongue out at her brother, and the man scoffs indignantly, throwing his hands up dramatically.

You just can’t stop smiling.

Watching your friends walk across the stage feels surreal. Walking across it yourself, even more-so.

There’s a moment, as you watch Pietro and then Wanda take their diplomas and shake hands with the principal, where you realise how much everything has changed in the span of a year. A year ago, Wanda was just Wanda Maximoff, the sweet girl with an accent that you caught yourself risking glances at just because she’s that pretty, whose equally-sweet mother made sure your home stayed organised and tidy to compensate for your mother’s demanding job at the hospital.

Now, she’s one of the most important people in your life.

You’re snapped out of your thoughts when Tony whistles obnoxiously as Wanda takes her diploma, and she looks out over the crowd of graduates and right at you, a chest-achingly beautiful smile on her face, and your heart just about melts.

There’s a slightly awkward moment in the carpark, afterwards, when as you’re standing around with Tony, Carol, Nat, Wanda, Pietro, Steve, Sam and Bucky, Jarvis approaches the group, diploma in hand. He hardly looks at anyone but Wanda as he informs everyone that he’ll be going to the airport that night, back to England, and that he’s glad he had them there to show him the ropes, and that Wanda had been so nice to him, despite the circumstances.

He shakes everyone’s hands, gives you and Carol a terse smile and a sharp nod, and then he’s gone.

There’s a few seconds of silence, and you only relax when Wanda finds your hand and leans up to press a soft kiss to the corner of your mouth.

Tony clears his throat, throws his arms around Steve and Pietro’s shoulders. “Alright. Who’s down to get wasted?”

Hours later, when all of the guests except for your group have stumbled out of Tony’s house at the 1:30AM curfew, you’re sitting on the couch with Carol’s legs thrown over your lap, Wanda’s head on your shoulder and your right hand caught between both of hers. Sam and Bucky are in the throes of a push-up contest, and Carol is counting along to keep track.

Sam loses at 109 push-ups. Half of the guests groan, begrudgingly hand over $5 notes, as Sam rolls onto his back and breathlessly calls Bucky a freak.

Your head is a little fuzzy from the alcohol, and your whole body is warm, and you know then and there how much you’re going to miss this.

The summer goes by in a whirl; there are parties and sleepovers and quiet nights with your mother, and you spend every spare moment you have with Wanda. Your mother and Iryna start going out for brunch every once in a while, and you finally meet Mr Maximoff, who watches you with apprehension but finally softens when he notices just how bright Wanda seems when she’s around you.

When he finally speaks a full sentence to you - just casually, as he’s leaving a room - Pietro smacks you on the back and gives you one of those wink-nod things. You have to lean on your hand to hide your smile.

Carol enlists in the Air Force, a step in the direction of becoming a pilot, and you’re so happy for her that it feels silly.

You’re all too aware of how time is ticking, how you’re going to have to go your separate ways with all your friends, but all that does is make every fleeting moment better, more memorable.

When the time comes, Wanda and Carol come with you to Boston to help you move into your dorm room. Tony has arranged a rental car for them to drive down to New York, because of course he has, and you think you’re handling it all pretty well until you’re meeting Carol at the car.

You sort of just don’t want to let them go.

Wanda is putting on a brave face, kissing your knuckles as Carol loads Wanda’s luggage into the car.

“We’ll call, like, all the time,” Wanda mutters, the way she’s been doing for at least ten minutes, like she’s trying to see reason in everything by audibly reminding herself of it. “And it’ll be so great when we get to see each other during the breaks.”

You huff a laugh, ignoring the warning look that Wanda sends you because the tears in her eyes make it fall short.

“Oh, sweetheart,” you chuckle, cupping her face and leaning in close. Cold fingers wrap around your wrists as you kiss her, slow and steady, trying to burn the curve of her mouth into your brain. You kiss the tip of her nose as you pull back. “Please don’t cry. If you cry, I’ll cry, and I’m a very ugly crier so I’d rather not.”

Wanda sniffles, giving you an amused look. You smile, pressing another quick kiss to her lips, stroking your thumbs over her cheeks.

You only look away from her when Carol knocks on the roof of the car, and both you and Wanda turn to look at her. “Uh, hello, where’s my goodbye kiss?” You roll your eyes and Wanda giggles. Carol grins, gets into the car, and you look back to Wanda to find her looking at you so softly it makes you blush.

“I love you,” Wanda says quietly.

You don’t even hesitate. “I love you, too.” Her lips quirk and then twist as she drops her eyes, and you can tell she’s trying not to cry. “Hey,” you coo softly, cupping her face in your hands. “I’ll see you during the break, okay?”

Wanda takes a breath, manages to catch your eyes again. “I'm gonna miss you.”

You smile gently, lean in to give her a soft kiss. “I’m gonna miss you, too.” She nudges her nose against yours before she leans back. “Okay. Okay. Quick, before I throw myself at your feet and beg you not to leave me.”

Wanda huffs a laugh, kisses your cheek, and then steps towards the car and opens the door. “So dramatic,” she chides. You smile, stuff your hands into your pockets if only to stop yourself from reaching for her as she slides into the passenger seat. You swallow dryly, leaning down to the window once Wanda has put it down.

You grin when you notice the sunglasses now sitting stop Carol’s nose. “You alright over there, Carol?”

“Peachy,” the blonde replies, voice steady. You huff a laugh, amused by your friend’s antics, before turning your attention back to Wanda.

“I’ll call you once I’m at the dorm,” she says. You nod.

“I’ll be waiting.”

Carol clears her throat. “Alright, Maximoff, no bathroom breaks for at least an hour and a half.”

Wanda grins, mocks a salute. “Aye-aye, aviator.”

Carol rolls her eyes to the heavens. “It doesn’t even make sense,” she mutters for what must be the millionth time this summer.

Once the car has disappeared from view, you take a deep breath, turn around, and start to make your way back to your dorm room. Just as you’re getting inside, your phone dings in your pocket, and you’re smiling the moment you see who it’s from.

You open Wanda’s message, grinning at the photo of Carol trying to hide that she’s crying, Wanda beaming in the corner of the frame, your heart so full it sort of hurts.

i knew she’d miss me

There’s a typing bubble, and then:

Not nearly as much as I do

sap.

For you?? Always

You huff as you drop onto your bed, the mattress bouncing a little with the force, that silly smile still on your face.

You love Wanda Maximoff. Completely and overwhelmingly.

And she loves you right back.

#wanda maximoff x reader #wanda maximoff x you #wanda maximoff x y/n #wanda maximoff imagine #wanda fluff #wanda angst #wanda smut #wanda series #j is writing #mine

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