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raitonsfw · 3 months

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𝟸𝟻𝟶 𝟶𝟶𝟶 𝚢𝚎𝚗 𝚕𝚊𝚌𝚎 | 𝚐𝚘𝚓𝚘 𝚜𝚊𝚝𝚘𝚛𝚞 ꨄ

𝓈𝓎𝓃𝑜𝓅𝓈𝒾𝓈: Gojo was a big fucking spender, whether you liked it or not. Almost every clothing item he owned ranged well over the price of 150 000 yen, even his shoes; sometimes those were more expensive. Coming home one day from work, there’s a pink gift bag (complete with a lil bow and all) sitting pretty on the ottoman for you. As you opened it, black expensive lace peeked back at you and so did the price, zeros going on for miles on the tiny tag.

warnings: 18+ mdni, smut, fem!reader, boyfriend!gojo, rich!gojo, dirty talk, lingerie (and the tearing of it), grinding (if you squint), fingering, cunnilingus, slight breeding kink, p in v intercourse, creampie, insecurity (about how much gojo spends), corny pick up lines, sayings, & jokes, pet names (sweetheart, baby, angel, pretty, princess, good girl), lovedrunk, feral, & pussywhipped gojo (man loves you, would hang the moon for you fr), a surprise near the end (i said he loves you goddammit)

a/n: happy february 1st (finally can say it without the queue messing up my schedule) anyway, here's my second valentine for you loves! i hope you enjoy, until next week! 💌 wc: 3.4k. v-day m.list | m.list

a/n pt 2: p.s. i'm such a sucker for writing gojo kinda cringey. alsoo its not my best work but i did what i could!

divider credit: @hitobaby & @firefly-graphics

Coming home was the biggest mistake you had made in your entire life, because what the fuck was this? Your fingers held up a piece of lace material, black in color and you puzzled at it as you noticed that the lingerie piece barely looked as though it’d cover anything; thanks to your million dollar boyfriend.

“It’s gorgeous, huh?” You heard his promiscuous voice ring out through the living room at just the right time, when your voice cursed him to the high heavens. You nearly jumped out of your skin, the lingerie falling near your feet and you turned quickly to face him, his hip popped against the doorframe.

“Satoru!” Your face was bright red, the blush spreading down your neck and you hid your face underneath your sweatshirt sleeve with a scowl. Gojo was in his usual sorcerer uniform, complete with the black blindfold covering the vivid blue and you still tried to shy away from him even though you knew you couldn’t. Not when his eyes saw all, saw the way yours glistened at the thoughtful gift.

“Hey sweetheart. Like the gift?”

“I told you not to buy me any more lingerie…” You huffed, glancing at the tag as you went to put the set back in the bag. There was an infinite amount of zeroes littering the price tag and you almost dropped the lingerie piece again– in utter shock that the fucking price was over 250,000 yen. “Oh my God…”

“Oh, please. I know you, you don’t wear lingerie sets more than twice. And last time I checked, I tore the last one.” He smirked, walking towards you with a tiny skip in his step and your hands trembled as you smoothed the lace over with your delicate fingers. “Besides, your favorite store was having a Valentine’s Day sale and I just had to have you in that.”

Right, it was Valentine’s Day soon.

“A sale?! This doesn’t look like a price tag for a sale. More like someone’s monthly rent, -toru.” You frowned, feeling Gojo’s strong arms fold underneath your waist and he took the fabric in his hands. Unfurling it from its tangled confines, he draped it over you with a gentle hum of a tune evading your surroundings.

“Hold it like that for me.” Gojo murmured as he stepped around you, standing in front of you while checking behind him as he backed up slightly. He focused on you, his fingers coming up to ‘snap a picture’ and you blushed profusely when you saw the dopey smile that mustered up on his face. Your blush turned into another scowl though as you remembered the price of it, how could he just spend money so fruitlessly?

Gojo lifted his blindfold for a few seconds to glance at your figure; you could see the gears turning in his head and you wouldn’t be very surprised if he sprouted an erection right then and there. But he also noticed your glowering eyes and his lighthearted demeanor faded away, a worried look washing over his face.

“What’re mad for, baby? I wasn’t going to pass up the chance to spoil you.”

“You spend so much on me, I’m not worth that much.” You muttered, starting to fold the lingerie set to put it back in the bag; away and out of sight from you.

You usually liked Gojo’s sweet gestures, gifts piled at your doorstep like it was Christmas every month normally but this time it just seemed a bit out of place– you knew him to flaunt his wealth alot but this? He’s never gotten you something so expensive. You couldn’t accept such a generous gift that would be soiled within minutes of wearing it.

“Excuse me? Where’d you learn that crazy talk from?” Gojo said with an exasperated gasp, coming to embrace you and you didn’t answer him as he pulled you close. His hands feathered through your hair and honestly you couldn’t breath through the fabric of his jacket, the turtleneck part of it threatening to strangle you as he squeezed himself around you in a tight hug.

“Don’t ever think that! I would buy the world for you if I could manage to fit it inside a gift box.”

You couldn’t help but laugh into his chest, his words souring after they sat for a minute. “That was so cringey, Satoru.”

“You still love me though, perks of being me… I think?” Gojo let go of you, holding you by your shoulders now and you reached up to slip his blindfold fully off. He blinked through the dimness of the apartment, his eyes fixating on you once more.

There was something that just made you feel so in love with him, everytime you managed to zero in on those hypnotic eyes of his– almost every bad thought melted away and yeah, you were definitely overreacting.

Let the man spoil you, if he so wishes.

“Yes, I still love you.” You fonded, planting a luscious kiss against his lips and he had no qualms, his mouth instantly moving against you eagerly. Gojo softly moaned into the kiss, one of his hands snaking down your back towards your ass and you squeaked out as he gave you a tiny swat against the plushness of it.

“Great, now go try on the lingerie.” Thrusting the bag back into your hands, he grinned at you and there was no way in hell you could deny him– not with the way he looked, so ecstatic to see you in the precious lace garments he bought you.

Putting it on wasn’t much of a struggle, it fit you nicely in all the right places. The full length mirror did you just enough justice, staring back at a body that had devious curves and everything in between the skimpy lace that barely covered your intimates. You weren't all that self conscious, though you weren’t sure what you’d do once you were in front of Gojo. Where would he look first?

Would his eyes lay against your breasts that bobbed in the lace, perched up prettily or would they drag to your soft thighs, cuffed in the garter belt holding up the thigh highs that accented the set? Would they focus on your mound and in the middle, your drenched pussy staining the thin fabric or would he drool over everything all at once?

“Baby… Are you done yet? I’m getting lonely.” You heard him mewl outside the door, a soft tap from his knuckle echoing through the bathroom and you nodded to yourself, adjusting little bits and pieces of the thread to make sure it sat perfectly for him.

You paused with your hand on the doorknob. Why were you so goddamn nervous?

“You have it on? C’mon, let me see already.”

As you opened the door, Gojo wasn’t in front of it anymore. Instead, he was seated on the lavish sofa that met in the center of the room, his head lying lazily against the back of it with his arms extended. His thighs were spread apart on the cushions, his legs folding outwards and you could already see a lush bulge in his trousers, peaked with interest as he waited impatiently for you. You wanted to skip the shame of twirling for him and just sit yourself right against it, sit yourself down on it and just–

Gojo’s head snapped up– he must’ve sensed you– and his bright eyes zeroed in on your face first. Then they trailed down towards your body, drinking in the adorned curves of the lingerie on you and his mouth fell open in a quiet sigh. “Y/N…”

You walked towards him, a small sway to your step and his hands pressed down against the sofa as you neared him. They nearly white knuckled it, his mouth still open and his eyes flickering over every crevice of the threads decorating you– his knees had quickly pressed together and you’ve never seen him so flustered in your entire life. Sure, you’ve modeled for him here and there with other gorgeous sets; but this was different.

Was this your Satoru? The ego induced maniac who could and would knock you off your feet with a single flirtatious remark? It was refreshing to see him like this– reduced to nothing but boyish clouded lust.

“You going to say something other than my name, baby?” You asked, pureness reining your voice and you purred inwardly when he was still speechless. You eyed at the seam of his trousers, noticing the way it tented up considerably just from a few seconds of gazing you over. “Satoru?”

“Hi, yes sorry. Come here.” Gojo’s hand faltered slightly as he reached for you and you happily obliged, straddling his lap. A low hum escaped him as you sat flush with his clothed cock against your heat, his legs spreading apart again to let you sink down onto him comfortably. “Holy hell, is this heaven ‘cause you look like–”

“So help me if you finish that sentence, I’ll take this off.” You interrupted, getting ready to move off of him but his hands grasped your hips greedily.

“That’s what I’m hoping for, angel.” A naughty grin crept up on his face as he pulled you into a warm kiss. Yeah, it’s definitely your Satoru.

His tongue slid past your lips easily and his eyes slipped shut, drawing you closer to him– faintly aware of the slickness that roughed up his trousers. You bit his lip seductively and a startled moan spilled into your mouth heavily, his hips subtly rocking up into you. It was needy and desperate and everything you ever wanted to hear and feel from him, because of course he was already riled up– just look at you.

His fingers looped inside the lace of your panties, rubbing his fingertips against the seams of it and you hummed as they curved towards the where you needed it most. His other hand fondled your breast, the flesh of it spilling out over the cups and all he wanted to do was press a tender kiss to your nipple, sucking it in between his teeth to nip and tug til it reddened with overstimulation.

“Are you going to touch me or…” You shook him from his daze, earning a sarcastic snort from him.

You moaned quietly as his hand immediately slipped underneath the fabric, toying with your nipple until it hardened and a gentle finger swiped through the slick that collected inside your panties. He tsked, “Already ruining the lace, so filthy…”

You let out a tiny huff, intending to apologize when two of his fingers sunk through your arousal and you leaned into him with a whimper. Gojo didn't hesitate to mark up your neck as soon as you moved forward, his teeth grazing alongside the nasty bruises and your hips jutted out as he expertly curled his digits into you. You whined into his ear– a glorious symphony if he must say so himself– and his thumb pressed into the swell of your clit. Sucking a languid hickey against the near front of your neck, he noticed you had started to move against him– fucking your perfect cunt down onto his pliant fingers.

Every roll of your hips, his cock got some action as well; as your clit rubbed against the tip of his cock that threatened to burst out of his trousers now. Holy fuck, he was straining too– he knew you could feel it as you sat right against it. He was losing his train of thought more and more by the second as you panted out, he needed more– so much more, his dick was nearly crying as it leaked out tiny droplets of precum in his boxers. If you weren’t so lost in pleasure at the moment, you would’ve noticed the small wet spot forming in the fabric– his jujutsu uniform’s probably going to need to be dry cleaned.

He would finish his pick up line if he could speak, his voice not quite there anymore– you looked like a heaven sent angel veiled in the lingerie of a hell spawned devil.

From his angle, Gojo could see the swell of your ass lightly jiggling, the lace barely covering it and the flesh of your thighs sat beautifully against his own and honestly he couldn’t take it anymore. He needed you, his vision blackening with lust as you worked yourself fully open on his fingers now. His cock ached so fucking badly and he vaguely noted to get you crotchless lingerie next time so he could just slide right in without needing to fumble with the weird straps.

When your breath hitched in your throat as your clit spasming directly against the frenulum of his cock, his tip desperately trying to dip into the lace through his thick fucking clothing– he lost it.

“Fuck it…” You heard him growl against your laced breast as he popped it out of its cup, the entire bralette tearing on impact. You gasped at the ripping sound, but you were too delirious to scold him as his fingers started fucking faster into you to keep you quiet about the torn lingerie. Gojo snagged your nipple in his mouth with a frantic moan, his fingers coated with slick as he pulled them out quickly to tear off your panties. They shedded easily and you were left with remnants of lace pristine against your body, another gasp coming from you as you realized what he did.

“-toru, what are you–?!”

Before you could finish your sentence, your entire figure was thrown against the cushions of the sofa and his shirt and trousers were stripped from his body. His eyes were trained on your ripped lingerie and you couldn’t quite figure out what was going on in his head until he yanked the rest of it off, excluding your thigh highs. And now you were exposed in front of him and he was out 250,000 yen; because he just couldn’t keep his composure.

“I’ll buy you another set, I swear– though I can’t guarantee it’ll survive…” Gojo said under his breath, planting kisses down the span of your chest. He trailed them towards your tummy, innate circles rubbing into your hips and he shuddered at how the garter belt sat snug against your waist– and how easy it was to tear off, his teeth latching on it with fervor. You gasped as you felt the band snap, your thigh highs falling down slightly where they sat as they were no longer held up by the precious lace.

He grabbed the extra lace from his mouth and threw it somewhere across the room, his tongue immediately delving into your tight heat. A broken whine was coaxed from your throat as he fucked it in and out needily, quiet pants breathing over your cunt. Gojo’s hands grabbed at your thighs, pressing his nose straight into your clit as he lapped at everything he could reach and you couldn’t help the wanton moans that leaked from your mouth, your hands grasping at his snowy hair.

He was downright animalistic at this point. You carved his shoulder blades with your nails, desperate for him to drive you over the edge; your impending orgasm making your legs tremble. “Satoru, shit– c-close…”

“C’mon, cum for me, pretty.” He murmured into your cunt, slightly muffled and you keened up into his mouth– ultimately fucking yourself on his tongue. And God, did he groan at that; his hums of utter satisfaction basically sent you spasming through your climax. Your hands flew to the edge of the sofa, clutching tightly as you rolled your hips into the insane pleasure– into his mouth that lapped up every drool of arousal that leaked out from your convulsions. He was vain with it too, looping out his fucking name against your folds to claim you as you whimpered his name.

“T-Take me with you to shop next time.” You managed out as you sat up on your elbows, looking down at him while you came down from your high. “I’ll decide what you can and can’t rip.”

Gojo tutted out a laugh, coming up to hover over you– his chin glinted with your juices and you reddened at the sight of how goddamn needy you were. “Fine, baby– now arch your back f’ me.”

His cock prodded your entrance, slender fingers wrapped around the base of it as he guided it into you greedily and you threw your head back against the arm of the sofa with a whine. You did exactly as he said; you arched your back into the intoxicating pleasure, his cock stretching you out and filling every bit of space you could give him. He fit perfectly within you everytime, which made you dizzy with lust as you hooked one hand around the back of his neck.

“Always take me so well, princess.” Gojo purred, not bothering to let you adjust as he started to snap his hips into you. “Fits like a glove, huh?”

You were so sore already– from the last orgasm wreaking havoc– but you couldn’t get enough of his long cock drilling into you, every thrust kissing your cervix and making your walls clench around him with whimpers drowning out the riveting squelches. You managed to look up at him, his fingertips nudging into the plush of your thighs, against the sleek material of your thigh highs and you knew he wasn’t going to last very long.

His eyes were already rolling back into his head at every fill of his cock dragging against your walls, his jaw slack and you were surprised at how pussy whipped he was– normally he’d watch you religiously writhe underneath him. His hair was disheveled as he ran his hand through it before frantically gripping your thigh again, panting out curses and you inadvertently squeezed hard around him at the action with a high pitched moan.

“Oh– fuck, holy shit..! Keep squeezing me like that, we’re g-gonna have to go shopping–” Gojo groaned out, his cock pounding into you harder now, pleasure coursing through your entire body as he hit your sweet spot dead on.

“F-For more lingerie?”

“No, for a fucking crib.”

“Fuck, Satoru– faster.” You whined out, completely obsessed with the thought and you felt your second climax tremble through your thighs, straight towards the throbbing of your cunt. ‘Cum in me, -toru…please.”

Gojo didn’t answer you, too wrapped up in your pretty pussy with hefty moans pouring out of him and his fingers slipped down towards your clit. He rubbed circles against it, interchanging his angle to fuck you deeper, faster– and you could feel how close you were.

“Got another surprise for you on Valentine’s Day, baby…” He started babbling, his chest rising and falling as he rutted into you. His eyes slipped from his cock, creamy and wet from your arousal, to your eyes now. “Involves a little jewelry piece, think you’ll love it… Think you’ll love me even more.”

You didn’t hear him though, too caught up in your release caving in every sense you had and replacing them with pure euphoria. You couldn’t fucking see, hear, even think as it overtook your body. You came so hard around his cock, clenching and unclenching which brought Gojo to his own release rather quickly. He stilled in you with a harsh whine and his eyes squeezed shut as he came in you, white ropes leaking out rather abruptly.

He repeated soft praises like ‘good girl, take it all…’ and ‘gonna make sure none drools outta you, so good for me’ a few times in a needy tone, collapsing against your chest afterwards. Gojo buried his face into your neck, smoothing his hands over the thigh highs you had on.

“I’m so sorry about the lingerie, Y/N…” He apologized, his eyes glancing up towards yours as he moved over to litter kisses on your cheek. “We’ll go shopping tomorrow, I promise. You’ll pick out your Valentine’s Day lingerie set and I’ll watch you model it for me–”

You interrupt him with a soft kiss, humming against his lips. “It wasn’t my money, it was yours, you idiot.”

Gojo blinked at you, then a mischievous look crossed his face. “How about a nice pink set this time? Frilly, rose hearts covering your perky nipples and–”

“Satoru.”

a/n: wanna get tagged in future writing posts? join my taglist!

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fioiswriting · 6 months

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Reunion | oneshot

Summary : After the Battle Above the Gods Eye, Daemon returned victorious. Aemond was presumed dead, though his body was never found. Three years later, you've mourned your former husband and are ready to move on. But it seems that some ghosts from your past have come back to haunt you, and that the dead aren't really dead after all...

[Part 2]

Rating : Explicit 18+, MDNI

Pairing : Aemond x Velaryon/Strong!niece!Reader, implied Cregan Stark x Reader (you can interpret them as lovers or not). Reader is Rhaenyra and Harwin’s daughter so I imagined her with dark hair like Jace, Luke and Joffrey but feel free to imagine her as you want of course <3

TW : unprotected sex, breeding kink, mention of characters death, angst, possessiveness, p in v sex, oral m receiving, praising kink, dom/sub undertones, mention of war, AU where the Blacks won the war, Alys Rivers (but no cheating), Reader has a child, grief, light choking, not proofread.

Words count : 7600

Author's notes : Hi everyone !! Sooo I’m posting my first ever fanfic on here, my first x reader and my first fanfic for Aemond. I’m very anxious haha But well, this fanfic is heavily inspired by a RP that has been going on for months with my wonderful gf <3 She writes Aemond so well I swear and now she’s making me fall in love with Cregan too haha oops whatever. Some of Aemond’s lines in this fanfic are hers so of course the credits go to her 💕 Long story short the reader’s backstory is inspired by my OC! The plot doesn't make any sense but whatever

Also English is not my first language, so sorry for the grammar mistakes !!

Enjoy 🖤

I don't know what I'm supposed to do Haunted by the ghost of you Oh, take me back to the night we met The night we met - Lord Huron

The snow had covered the landscape of Winterfell in a thin white layer so similar to ash, and the image tugged at your heart for a moment. Ashes. Fire. War. It was strange, the stillness that had followed the fury of screams and blood, of fire and ash, the constant anguish and pain of loss. It was like a long howl and then sudden silence. Life had resumed its course, the earth and the grass nurtured in red, as if nothing had happened, and that still irritated you sometimes, three years later.

For this peacefulness was a constant reminder of your life before. Before the war, before your own family ripped itself apart from within, before you lost him. There was something bitter in the thought that, in an alternate reality, you would have been happy with him by your side. The night brought its share of sweet dreams, lulled by the embrace of his arms, and you closed your eyes with ease, hoping to see his face again, which was fading day by day, desperately clinging to the details that made him.

It had been the best solution, you knew.

For there was no reality in which he could live as much as you wished for. And you had accepted your duty by straightening your shoulders, silencing your heart, digging your thumbnail into the inside of your wrist. Your stepfather had said he was dead; he had seen Vhaegar fall from the sky, wounded. He had seen the huge dragon crash into the water with all its weight. He had waited, and no silver hair had returned to the surface. He had searched and no body had been found.

So, he had returned, triumphant, with the conclusion that Aemond Targaryen was dead.

The room had swayed around you, but your fingers on the hard, rough wood of the table had kept you grounded. You had nodded, unsure, your ears ringing, your teeth sinking into the flesh of your tongue to hold back the tears that were beading at the edges of your eyes.

You knew it was inevitable, perhaps even fair. But it still hurt. It sill fucking hurt.

Daemon had reassured you by pointing out that you were now released from your marital obligation. A marriage to him that you had hoped for, waited for, dreamed of in your younger years. A marriage you had despised, once forced into, once made captive, a prisoner to be used against your own mother. And then a marriage that you had loved, cherished even, when he had opened up to you, when he had changed, when he had revealed that soft side despite his rough edges. And you loved him, truly. The childhood love, the shy love that had blossomed between laughter muffled behind the curtains, hand-in-hand runs through the Red Keep and reading session hidden under the library table, had been rekindled. Raw, devouring, bruised by war, but more powerful than ever.

Out of the corner of your eye you had caught a glimpse of the comforting gaze of your mother, the Queen, her gentle eyes searching for clues that would betray what you were feeling. It was she who had stroked your hair that evening, her presence welcome and soothing.

During the war, events had made you more uncertain than ever; blood and cheese had broken something in you. Suddenly shaken by the horrific actions of someone you hardly recognised, by the actions of your own family and the father figure who had raised you as his own daughter. You questioned your loyalties more than ever. Of course, you'd been devastated by Luke's death, your beloved little brother, so innocent, so sweet, and the despair you'd felt, the sadness, had gradually turned to anger.

Your desire for revenge had fed on your rage, on your anger.

And in your quest for revenge, you had grabbed the dagger hidden in your bodice when you had kissed him, when you had poisoned him with your lips and your body pressed against his. Perhaps it was cowardice to do it on your wedding night, right after the pitiful ceremony in which you had been forced to exchange your vows of fidelity, the humiliation of the white, blue, red and green cloak around your shoulders. Perhaps it was cowardice to wait for him to surrender to your touch, hard with desire, before plunging the blade straight into his heart.

But you didn't do it, in the end, the humiliation of your failure burning in your cheeks, and you had seen the horrible reality in the icy eye fixed on you: he was expecting it. He knew. He had anticipated you, as usual, one step ahead of you, ahead of your plans. And the humiliation was all the more bitter.

First he had defied you, knowing full well that you couldn't do it, despite your momentary hesitation. Then he had wiped away your tears, the sound of metal echoing off the floor as he captured your lips with his own.

And both you and he had sought to release the accumulated tension in the comfort of your naked bodies, in the rough, demanding thrusts.

You weren't quite sure when your relationship had changed. When he had become more forgiving. When he had trusted you. When he had become gentle. When you had felt him slipping away, subtly, almost imperceptibly. When you had begun to seek comfort in his arms, to seek the warmth of his body, to seek his love on his lips.

You loved him.

So you spent the nights lying awake in fear. Fearing the moment when you would have to make a choice. Fearing the moment when you would have to betray.

Which side would you choose when both armies were coming towards you, carrying the same flags, the same weapons, both calling your name?

Anxiety had spread its roots in the pit of your stomach, crescent moons in the palms of your hands. You felt as if you were losing your mind.

But the choice had been forced upon you without you having to make it. You had accepted it, as your duty demanded, as your loyalty to your family demanded.

Life at Winterfell wasn't so bad, quite the opposite in fact, despite the cold and snow you weren't used to. Cregan Stark was a good man. He had given you time and space to grieve, and had opened the castle gates to you with kindness. You had decided that you could get used to the cold and the snow, to the stone and the rustic wood, so different from the refineries of the capital, but infinitely warmer.

It was your choice, your departure for Winterfell. Dragonstone was still haunted by the ghost of Luke, by the ghosts of Joffrey and little Aegon and Viserys and Rhaenys and all the family members you had lost. King's Landing was haunted, too. By your sweet aunt and her cries of despair, by Aegon's descent into madness, by the humiliations you had so gracefully endured, by the recurring announcements of deaths, by the smell of the innocents’ blood, by the pitiful looks of Alicent, who had seen in you the image of herself a few years earlier, powerless and manipulated.

But above all, it was haunted by him.

The weight of the memories had become unbearable and you needed to leave.

You chose Winterfell, hoping the cold would help you forget. And Jace had come with you, his thumb caressing the back of your hand with affection, always the protective, reassuring big brother he was to you. Probably glad to see his friend again, too. Your friend, to both of you.

But forgetting was something you'd never really been able to do, even less with the last memory he'd left you.

Now, just over three years later, you felt ready to return to King's Landing to visit your parents, to face the demons of your past and to mourn once and for all. It was inexplicable, perhaps a little strange, but you felt the need to go back.

On his first dragon ride, Rhaegar clapped his hands along the way, nestled into your arms in front of you, closing his eyes as the wind ruffled his dark curls. Midnight, your dragon, as pleasant as ever, as easy and gentle as ever, took care to be careful with the two of you on his back.

When you arrived, Rhaenyra hugged you as tightly as she'd ever hugged you, her nose buried in your thick hair, before bending down to take her grandson in her arms.

"I've missed you, sweet girl." she said to you. You smiled and reached for her arm, glancing at your son who'd grabbed one of your mother's long silver curls: "Daemon has missed you too. You know he doesn't show his feelings, but... he missed you."

You smile, your eyes dropping to the floor. You missed them, too, terribly, despite the frequent letters.

"And of course... we’ve missed you too, little one!" Rhaenyra added, catching the child's nose with her thumb and forefinger, causing him to burst into laughter.

It felt good to be back. It was good to have regained some sort of routine in your daily life with your family. It was good to see the walls of the Red Keep return to their original familiarity, chasing away the ghosts you feared you might see again.

*** *** *** *** *** *** *** ***

Perhaps you should have listened to your stepfather and not stray under any circumstances from the knight who has been following your every step with concern, afraid to lose sight of you.

Five years earlier, it was Sir Erryk's vigilance that you had deceived when you had carelessly followed your eldest uncle into the dangerous streets of the capital.

The streets of King's Landing offered you a freedom you had missed. But now you almost regret sneaking through the crowds to escape the vigilance of the knight who had escorted you. You decide to take a shortcut, the hood of your cloak pulled down over your forehead. It must have been your imagination. You aren’t on the worst side of the city, not like five years ago, and the streets have become safe, much safer now that your parents are in power.

Your footsteps led you to some stone steps, which you climb at full speed, your heart pounding in your chest. Glancing behind you, you disappear like a shadow around the corner of an alley, but the feeling is still there. You feel as if you are being followed.

At the Red Keep you already had the unpleasant feeling of being observed. In the gardens, with your son. Along the ramparts, enjoying the sea breeze on your face.

But you blamed it on your body's automatic response to the anxiety that had built up in all the years you'd spent within the walls of the Keep.

You slow your pace as you spot the dome and towers of the Great Sept at the end of the alley. From there you can easily find your way back to the Red Keep. All you had to do is keep moving, staring ahead, pressing your pace, wrapped in the thick wool of your cloak.

One step after the other. Breathing deeply. Half-moons in your palms.

The Great Sept growing closer give you a strange kind of reassurance.

And then suddenly, one hand closes over your mouth, the other around your waist. Your back bangs painfully against the cold stone wall of the winding alley into which you have been dragged. Fuck. Fuck.

You are too paralysed to struggle, too paralysed to bite the hand of the stranger holding you prisoner between the wall and his own body.

"You obviously learned nothing from my advice, Lady Strong," the icy voice whispers in the hollow of your ear. Your eyes widen.

That voice. It couldn't be.

Lady Strong. Lady Strong. Lady Strong.

It can’t be.

That is your sick mind playing tricks on you again.

"As reckless as ever, hm, aren't you? You could easily get yourself killed."

The stranger releases you and you look up again, tears forming at the corners of your eyes, searching for that icy blue, tinged with lilac, that have read through you so many times before.

It is impossible.

He has died three years before, falling from Vhaegar's back into the deep waters of the lake at Harrenhal.

Is it a ghost? Is it a hallucination?

"You are dead. You were dead," you whisper, more to yourself than to him, still in shock from the feel of his body against yours. You feel the tears that have formed at the corners of your eyes roll down your cheek, and your little fists pound his chest.

You have so much to say to him. So many things to reproach him for.

His hand cups your cheek to turn your head and force you to look at him, his thumb wiping away your tears.

The way he looks at you hasn’t changed; it still makes you shiver. You still feel that your uncle could read through you, that he could discover your deepest secrets. And there is still that hint of desire, too, that gleam in his one seeing eye.

You want to kiss him. You want to slap him.

He clenches his jaw as he pulls you against him, burying your face in his chest, his arms around you. He rests his chin on your head. One of his hands strokes your dark hair as you stifle sobs into the wool of his cloak.

The situation takes you back to your wedding night, when he had comforted you in the same way after you had told him that you couldn't hate him, even if you had tried.

"I know," you hear him whisper, the vocal cords vibrating from his throat against the top of your head.

He is standing there, in front of you. You cling to the fabric of his clothes with all your might, as if you're afraid he'll slip away again.

"How?" you ask, eyes closed, head against him. If he is to be taken from you again, you intend to enjoy every moment in his company.

He clenches again. You step back to look into his eyes, to search his enigmatic gaze for answers, for clues, for signs that would explain how. Why.

He doesn't answer you, but he is filled with desire as he grips your chin between his middle and index fingers, as he captures your lips with his own. You rediscover the possessiveness you've been missing. He pushes you a little harder against the wall behind you, as if to remind you who you belong to. Who you were married to.

A familiar warmth blossoms between your thighs, a warmth you haven't felt for too long. You're trapped, right there, your uncle towering over you, trapped between the wall and his body. His fingers close around your jaw and you kiss him back hungrily, wrapping your arms around his neck to pull him closer.

You're perfectly aware that the situation is surreal. You're perfectly aware that you're making a mistake, that you shouldn't respond to the kiss of the man who used to be your husband, not when he's technically still your enemy, not when he's technically dead.

But you shut out the voices in your head begging you to stop.

"I still want to hate you, you know," you breathe between his parted lips. He merely mutters hm in reply, trying to shut you up again, his hands wandering under your cape, tracing the ribs of the body he'd missed so much. He reaches for your waist, your hips, which he grabs meanly.

There's no one in the alley around you, but the hood over his head hides his long silver hair anyway.

"Three fucking years." Your lips leave his, a mixture of anger and desire bubbling up from your lower belly. Aemond stares at you, his jaw clenched. He knows you need to unleash your emotions when you don't read an ounce of regret in his gaze. "Three. Fucking. Years. And you've told me nothing. You never sought to -"

"I couldn't," he retorts harshly. He seems to be searching for words to explain something you could not possibly understand, but his gaze does not soften. You know he needs time, you've learned to know him. You've waited three years, what's another moment? But you're tired, and your patience isn't as strong as it used to be. You look away, a mocking laugh escaping your lips as you repeat his justification. "You couldn't."

"And risk your mother executing me?" He forces you to look at him again, and you feel the lump form in your throat. You know you are perhaps being unfair, but you were alone for those three years while you mourned him, so alone, and in a way, you want to make him pay.

"You were dead to me, qybor." Uncle. You feel him twitch at the mention of your family tie, at the nickname he used to love to hear on your tongue. "I had to live with the idea that you would never come back."

The tears that had dried on your cheeks threaten to flow again, pooling at the corners of your eyes. Aemond sighs.

"I thought I was dead too," he whispers. You can feel the tension in every one of his muscles. There's a moment of hesitation, a silence that hovers between you. You have so many questions, but you don't know where to begin. Not a sound leaves your lips.

"She tended to my wounds," he adds, and you frown in confusion. "Alys."

Alys. You try to wriggle out of his grip, but he keeps you pinned to the wall. Alys, you remember the rumours whispered in your ear by that rat of Larys - those false rumours, you remind yourself - but you can't help feeling your heart clench. You don't trust your voice enough to speak, to say anything.

"There's no one left in Harrenhal but her," he adds, as if you need that clarification, as if you need to know where he's been all this time.

You say nothing. Your throat is tight. If you speak, if you look at him, you'll cry again and betray your feelings all over again. You refuse to make a fool of yourself, not now.

"She's the one who saw you. In Winterfell." There's a hint of bitterness in his voice as he mentions the place where you've spent the last few years rebuilding yourself, trying to forget him. A bit of anger, perhaps, too.

"Cregan Stark welcomed me indeed," you reply curtly. Perhaps you want to hurt him as he hurt you, but you are deliberately vague in your answer. "I have mourned you, qybor."

Everything is so confused in your mind. A paradoxical blend of desire, anger, sadness, jealousy. Of love too.

You want to strangle him and melt on his lips at the same time, and you know that after all this time you should be used to feeling this paradox of emotions with Aemond. Your uncle was a set of contradictions all his own.

"I saw you. On Midnight. That's how I knew you were here."

You nod. Words don't work between you, you know that. It has always been like that; the habit of letting silence speak more than words. The habit of communicating through the carnal acts of your bodies against each other. *** *** *** *** *** *** *** ***

Aemond pushes you against the wooden door as soon as you enter the mediocre room of the inn. He is demanding, more than ever, as his hands run along your hips to your thighs to lift you up and press you against the door, your legs closing around him. He watches you with hungry eyes, like a predator ready to pounce on its prey. You can't stop a moan from escaping your lips.

There's something feverish, passionate, urgent about the kiss. And when his tongue begs for an opening, your lips part to welcome him. There is only you in this room, an interlude where nothing else exists, where you don't have to worry about your duties and loyalties, where you are guided by nothing but passion.

His hand slams against the wall next to your head and with a movement of his hips he lifts you a little higher onto his waist, your legs locked tightly around him. He grunts into the crook of your neck at the friction of your crotch against his.

"Tell me to stop." His hand which isn't against the wall to support your weight slides up to your jaw. He lifts your chin, his gaze locked in yours, searching for clues, anything that would betray your desire to end whatever it is you're doing. "Tell me to stop now, or I won't be able to."

You don't want to stop. You should, you know you should, but you silence the little voice in your conscience that's begging you to pull yourself together, to end it all before you've even started, before you've even gone too far, and you kiss him with more vigour, with more fervour.

"I'm not going to tell you to stop, qybor," you whisper against his lips. "You know that."

His hardened member twitches beneath you at the mention of the High Valyrian, at the mention of that nickname he's so fond of. It's his weakness, you know, and despite the three years he's been away, he hasn't changed.

It's so good to feel him against you again, to feel his lips against yours, along your jawline to the junction with your neck. In one sharp movement, he rolls his hips to meet yours, pressing you a little harder against the wooden wall, and he catches your moan between his lips.

You know that tonight there will be no shy touches between you, no awkward explorations like in the early days of your love, when it wasn't tainted by war, blood, and death yet. You and he will both be consumed by the burning fire of passion. You both need to release that tension and frustration, to make up for lost time, to drown, drunk with desire, in the most carnal of acts. All that matters now are his hands on your body to ease the pain pulsing between your thighs, the desperate need to feel him inside you.

The barrier of your clothes frustrates you. You need to feel his skin against yours, to feel all of him, and your hand runs down his body to pull at the cord holding his breeches together. Immediately his fingers close around your wrist to hold you back. He wants to be in control, you know. But it has been three years and something about you just isn't the same.

"Let me worship you like I used to, qybor," you whisper against his lips, your forehead pressed against his, and you feel his jaw tighten. There's a moment of hesitation in his eyes, clouded by desire.

His thumb caresses your lips, pressing against your lower lip. You part them, just enough for the tip of your tongue to wet the top of his thumb. There are no further words exchanged between you, just silence, punctuated by your gasping breaths. His hand closes around your throat, not pressing too hard, just enough so you can feel the weight of his palm against your windpipe, just to remind you that he's in complete control of the situation.

Fuck, you've missed it; the adrenaline of his hand around your throat, the adrenaline of knowing he could do anything to you and you'd be defenceless.

"On your knees then."

The command echoes through the room and you feel the wetness seeping between your thighs as you slide to your knees in front of him. Your eyes shine with envy and you look up at him as you did years ago. You know he can't resist the angelic look on your face when you're between his thighs. You know he can't resist the dichotomy between the innocent look on your face and the sinful act you're about to commit. He revels in your submission, and that's something you've learned to use against him.

Your uncle releases his cock from his breeches, his hand wrapped around the base, and the desire you feel between your thighs becomes more and more unbearable. The head is already glistening with anticipation, white pearls beading at the slit, and it takes all of Aemond's self-control not to grab you by the hair and force himself into your mouth entirely.

Closing the distance, he rubs his member against your lips to spread the wetness before pushing into your mouth. Your lips close around him. He's warm and heavy on your tongue and the hand holding the base of his manhood is replaced by yours to cover what you can't take. Your tongue curls around the tip first, absorbing his salty taste, and you look up at him through your long lashes. He doesn't look away from you.

His hand cups your cheek, his thumb caresses your cheekbone before sliding to the corner of your lips, just where his length disappears between them. It's as if he's hypnotised by the spectacle, by the bobbing of your head, by your hollowed cheeks, by your application and devotion.

His hands leave your jaw and sink into your thick curls, urging you to take him a little deeper, and he thrusts between your lips with more vigour. You close your eyes, concentrating on not choking as his member touches the back of your throat. You take it as diligently and assiduously as ever, ignoring the tears gathering at the corners of your eyes.

"That's it, just like that. Such a good girl, mandianna [niece], such a good wife," you hear him grunt, his movements more erratic, more jerky, and you revel in his praise, sending a new wave of heat between your thighs. "Only for me."

You feel him throb on your tongue. You know it won't be long now, and you prepare yourself to welcome him, to let the salty taste of his seed flood your tongue, but your uncle pulls back reluctantly.

"I would rather not waste." he whispers, his eyes riveted on the thread of saliva that connects your lips, glistening with saliva and precum, to the tip of his cock. You shudder. Aemond definitely hasn't changed much, you realise.

His hand finds your cheek again and he caresses your lips to spread the mess you've made by sucking him. You know he isn't finished. This is just the beginning and you're both driven by the consuming hunger of passion. You know what's coming now, your core clenching around nothing, and you rub your thighs together, in an attempt to soothe the impatience.

He urges you to stand. He has that predatory look in his eyes as he closes the distance between you with his determined steps.

" Undress," he orders, and you do not take your eyes off him as you untie the linen dress you had put on to disguise yourself as a common girl.

The garment falls heavily to the floor, forming a grey puddle at your feet, and you take a step forward.

"Do you not like seeing me dressed in rags, qybor?" you ask in a playful tone, teasing, referring to the time, years ago, when he had rescued you during your adventurous walk along the grim Silk Road where your uncle Aegon had accidentally led you.

The memory was so close and yet so far away.

Aemond takes a step towards you, his hand brushing aside the long hair that hides your breasts to tuck it behind your shoulder.

"Not when you are meant to be my Queen." His eye glow with desire. He studies your body in detail as his fingers slide down your collarbone to your breasts. His thumb traces their underside before moving up to your nipples, hardened by the cool evening air and desire. He plays with them, eliciting a moan that satisfies him. He looks at you like one looking at a prize, a long-awaited gift.

"Three years away from my beautiful wife," he whispers, his good eye gleaming as he looks at your breasts.

"You did have pleasant company in Harrenhal though, didn't you?" you hiss through your teeth and Aemond's hand suddenly closes around your throat to make you swallow your insolence. You're not afraid, not anymore, for you know he won't hurt you. You have this power over him and it's delicious.

His face is so close to yours that your noses are touching.

He doesn't let go of you.

"It wasn't like that." He whispers. "With her." You know he's sincere because he's almost awkward with his words, his explanation. You can see in his eye that there are so many other things he would like to tell you, but you have learned not to rush him. It has always been difficult for him to open up, to be vulnerable.

His fingers release you. Aemond is a good head taller than you, and as he puts a hand on your shoulder, moving forward to force you back until your knees hit the mattress, your eyes remain fixed on his.

Your uncle lays you down on the mattress. It's not the comfort of the bed you once shared, but you don't care, you just need him inside you.

You need him to make you feel whole again. Aemond was fire, and you were willing to burn for him. You had always burned for him.

In the candlelight of the small bedroom where you spend the night, you see his thumbs slip under the waistband of his breeches. His clothes quickly join yours on the floor.

There's something soothing about the weight of his naked body on top of yours. Once under him, you know you can surrender completely to him and stop thinking, just stop thinking.

His lips on yours, his hands on your body, his broad torso eclipsing your smaller figure.

He places kisses down your neck to your collarbone, sucking your skin between his teeth to leave purple marks that will blossom tomorrow.

He kisses your breast, his lips closing around an erect nipple which he sucks gently, then around the other. Your hands are buried in his long silver hair. You can feel how wet you are between your thighs. You need him desperately, right there.

The confidence with which his fingers slide down your waist, from your hips to your inner thighs, only emphasises his ravenous expression. His touch on your folds sends a wave of heat through your body, causing your hips to move against his hand. Softly tracing the curves of your crotch, his index and middle fingers finally part your folds to collect the wetness that has formed there.

"Is it sucking your husband's cock that has got you so wet?

Yes, you want to answer, seeking more contact, but the words are stuck in your throat.

"Stay still," he orders in a hoarse voice as you move your hips, his hands gripping your hips to pin you back against the mattress.

You comply, for once, because you know he won't give you what you want otherwise. And you can't wait any longer, not today, not when you thought you'd never feel his warmth against your body again, his hands on your hips, his cock inside you.

"You see, you can be a good girl." His voice is softer when you obey. And to reward you, his fingers slide to your entrance, where he applies a little pressure with the tip of his middle finger without actually penetrating you. "Now beg your husband to fill you."

"Please, qybor," you murmur, your hand taking his cheek to bring his face to yours. You want him to look at you. "Please, I need you inside."

Oh, the slowness and precision with which his finger plunges into you makes you throw your head back. He begins to move back and forth, his index finger joining his middle one, caressing your spongy walls, his thumb tracing circles around your bud. Curling his fingers, he strokes that spot inside you that makes your legs tremble and you clutch the sheets beneath you.

You feel your centre tighten around his fingers, the release you've been looking for so close, so very close. You shut your eyes, ready for the familiar wave of warmth to wash over your entire body, but your uncle pulls his fingers away. You grunt in frustration.

You open your eyes only to see Aemond bring his fingers to his lips indecently, spreading your wetness over his own lips. "You still taste so good," he purrs, and you feel the blush rise to your cheeks.

He leans over to kiss you and you taste yourself on his lips. It's indecent.

He pulls back and you see him wrap his hand around his hardened cock, the head angrily red and already drooling in anticipation. He guides himself to your core, rubbing his length between your folds, coating it with your glistening juices.

The round tip of his member enters you, slowly at first, stretching your narrow entrance as if to give you time to adjust. Aemond pushes and he sinks easily into you until he's fully seated, your warm, wet walls feeling heavenly around him, squeezing him just right.

" You are so tight," he growls against you as your arms close around him, your legs bent and pressed to either side of his body.

He gives you a moment to get used to having him inside you again, to feeling him so deeply. It's exactly what you need; he stretches you deliciously, with a perfect touch of controlled pain.

You feel whole again and you want to cry. You never want to lose that feeling. You want to keep him, against you, inside you.

You close your eyes and bury your head in the hollow above his shoulder, clinging to him as if to feel him more deeply, more intimately.

"You can move," you reply, rolling your hips to support your words. Aemond's hand immediately presses down on your stomach to hold you against the mattress and you bite your lower lip, almost guilty of forgetting his earlier command. He always has that need to control. He's the one who decides, you should know it after all these years, and you should stop being so demanding, so desperate.

"I said stay still," he scolds you, and the waiting is unbearable.

You need him.

When he finally pulls out and thrusts into you again, you let out a whimper. Your nails dig into the pale skin of his back, leaving crescent marks that will probably still be there the next day.

Once under him, Aemond has the ability to make you vulnerable, and part of you hate him for it.

"You take me so well," he growls after a particularly brutal thrust. "You're such a good girl."

The praise is sweet music to your ears. You have always needed it, to be praised, complimented.

You feel him hitting that special spot deep inside you, you feel him pressing in so deeply and your grip tightens around him.

"Did you miss me?" you whisper in a voice made weak by pleasure, but all you get in return are the hoarse grunts of his voice.

Aemond lowers his eyes to look at where you are joined, hypnotised by the sight of his cock disappearing inside you. The rhythm he imposes is powerful, deep, and his fingers find their way between your bodies, reaching your little bud at the top of your folds to trace circles on it. You won't last long and he knows it as he feels your walls tighten desperately around him. Your moans grow louder.

"Look at me." His voice barely brings you back to reality, even though your mind is already far away, even though you know you can't last much longer. Painfully, you open your eyes to meet your uncle's icy gaze. " I am going to fill you up." His pacing becomes more erratic, more sloppy, and you know he won't last much longer either. Leaning on his forearm, he continues to stroke your pearl in small circles. "I am going to fill you up and you're going to take it all."

The image of you, belly round with his child, haunts him. It never stopped haunting him, even on the brink of death, even when he thought he'd exhaled his last breath as he fell into the icy waters of the lake, his heart clenched with regret and remorse. It still is a wonder that he has survived. Perhaps, just perhaps, the Gods still had plans for him.

I'm going to fill you up. Words like that shouldn't bring you to ecstasy, and yet they do. Aemond reaches deeper, and as he feels your whole body convulse with the spasms of your orgasm, he joins you in your release. He spills his seed deep inside you before remaining still, buried against your womb, enjoying your warmth, making sure he's pouring every last drop into you.

He doesn't want to pull out, not yet, and you close your arms around his neck, your breast pressed against his chest as he softens inside you.

The weight of his body on yours is comforting. For the first time in years, you feel alive. For the first time in years, the open wound he left seems to be healing.

When he pulls out, you wince at the sensation of his cock slipping between your still too sensitive folds. You immediately miss the feeling of fullness.

You barely move, your whole body still sore from your lovemaking, but you can feel his cum leaking from your entrance onto the mattress below.

Again, Aemond's fingers are between your thighs that are glistening with the intimate essence of both of you, collecting his own seed and pushing it back into you. You whimper, still too sensitive, your lips brushing against his, and he remains inside you for a brief moment. He wants to make sure nothing is wasted.

And when he withdraws his fingers, he presses them against your lips for you to clean them.

You snuggle up against him, your head against his chest. Your hand caresses his chest, the fine line of his muscles, and he rests his chin on the top of your head, wrapping an arm around your waist to hold you close. You enjoy the warmth of his body while you still can. Between your thighs you feel the sticky sensation of his seed mixing with your wetness as it still flows out of you, but you don't want to leave the embrace of his arms.

"I saw you in the gardens. With the child."

When you feel his throat vibrate, you look up at him, your eyebrows furrowed. "It was you, then?" You swallow. "It was you watching me." It's more of an observation than a question, and you suddenly understand that constant, uncomfortable feeling of being watched. At least you weren't crazy.

He lets out a hm and pauses.

"Is he yours?"

You know where this question is leading. You fear the moment of truth. You'd deluded yourself into thinking you could avoid it, but you were naive; did you really think you could hide the truth from him for much longer, now that he was back?

"Yes." You answer, looking away. You're nervous, and he can feel it.

"He's Cregan Stark's son, isn't he?"

Your heart clenches. You hesitate for a moment. You should lie. You know you should lie. To protect your son and your family, as you've protected them for the past three years. You only need one word.

You hear him sighing beneath you, taking your silence as confirmation.

"No, he's not."

The words leave your lips before you can even stop them. You hold your breath. Beneath you, Aemond tenses. He straightens, puzzled, silent.

"A bastard, then?" His voice is dry, almost mocking, revealing a form of irritation. "I did not expect this from you, dear niece." Disappointment.

You feel anger boiling inside you at the thought of him insulting your son, your sweet boy you love so much. You swallow the lump that has formed in your throat and rise on your forearms, your eyebrows furrowed as you turn your hard gaze on him.

You don't know how to express the words that are desperately trying to escape your lips.

" He has blue eyes," you add, and you can see the confusion on his face. A lock of hair slips from your shoulder and falls around your face. "Your blue eyes."

You feel him tense up. He says nothing, just stares at you with his one seeing eye. It's rare to see Aemond Targaryen so unsure of himself, so full of doubt. He stares at you as if he's afraid he's heard you wrong, as if he's afraid he's invented the words that have come out of your mouth.

"What did you say?"

You look away. You bite your lower lip, regretting your words. You want to bury your face in his chest. You breath.

"He is your son, Aemond." You finally admit it.

It's true that Rhaegar's brown curls could easily make him look like a Stark. Cregan had offered to raise him as his own, and you had smiled at his kindness.

Rhaegar is so much like you. Like you, and like Luke, and especially like Jace as a child, of whom he is the spitting image. He has the soft features of your face, but his eyes make him undeniably Aemond's son.

Your uncle holds you close, his arm wrapped around your waist, his long nose buried in the hollow of your neck, breathing in the scent of your hair.

"My son," he repeats in awe. It's rare to see Aemond smile with sincerity. Especially after the war has worn him down, made him more ruthless than ever.

"His name is Rhaegar," you say. "Just as we discussed." There's shyness in your voice.

He straightens, you on top, straddling him, and he seeks your lips to kiss you fiercely. His desire awakens beneath you; you feel him harden against your core again.

And this time, he makes love to you.

*** *** *** *** *** *** *** ***

"I missed the best part." He purrs against you, his hand absently caressing your breast before sliding down your body to rest on your flat stomach, just above where your womb lies. He clenches his hand possessively over your flesh. His voice is almost tinged with regret. Your hand rests on his.

"You shouldn't have left me," you reply, bitter. Deep down, you're still angry with him. Your gaze falls on your stomach, where both your hands lie, yours on top of his, clasped together. "You shouldn't have let your anger dictate your actions," you add, looking away. "But you were blinded by your desire for revenge, by your desire to prove that you could be better than him.” You swallow.

It is his fault, after all, that he missed your son's birth, that he didn't see him grow through the tender years of his infancy.

Rhaegar needed a father, and it was Cregan who raised him.

"Does he even know who I am? Who his father is?"

The guilty look on your face betrays you, and you know immediately that you've hurt his feelings. It may be selfish of you, but he needs to understand.

"You were supposed to be dead. There's still a lot he doesn't know."

He doesn't say anything. You don't have the courage to meet his hard, stern gaze, you don't have the courage to see the disappointment and pain on his face, because if you do, your heart will tighten and you will fall apart.

"He's still so young. Give him time." You add, your fingers tracing small circles on the back of his hand, in an attempt to soothe him.

You know how much Aemond wanted a son, and you know it's cruel to take that from him. You know he would have made a good father. You can picture him with Rhaegar on his knee, reading him stories, telling him about the adventures of Vhagar and Visenya, and you love the image that forms in your mind.

You told Rhaegar about Aemond, though he was still too young to understand. You told him that his father had once owned the greatest dragon in the world, that his father was a fearless man for it was true, and you saw his big eyes light up.

Aemond pulls you closer to him. "I want to be there for him, you know." Unlike Viserys, but he doesn't have to say it, you understand what he means in the undertone he leaves at the end of his sentence. He has always suffered from his father's indifference.

You cuddle up to him and he runs his fingers through your long curls. For a moment, you imagine that everything is fine and you search for his touch. He plants a kiss on the top of your head.

"I've missed you," he admits, the words landing on the tips of his lips in the silence of the bedroom, but you're already dozing off.

You know that tomorrow will be made up of choices and decisions.

But for now, you fall asleep in the embrace of his very real arms, for once, enjoying the illusion of the life you both could have had.

#aemond x reader #aemond targaryen #Aemond Targaryen x reader #aemond x you #aemond fanfiction #aemond targaryen fic #aemond x y/n #aemond x fem!reader #aemond targaryen x you #aemond x niece!reader #aemond targaryen fanfic

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itsharleystuff · 11 months

Text

↳ 𝐂𝐇𝐄𝐂𝐊𝐌𝐀𝐓𝐄

Gif not mine!

— 𝐏𝐚𝐢𝐫𝐢𝐧𝐠: Joel Miller x afab!fem reader

— 𝐖𝐨𝐫𝐝 𝐜𝐨𝐮𝐧𝐭: 7k

— 𝐒𝐮𝐦𝐦𝐚𝐫𝐲: Ellie finds an old chessboard somewhere in Jackson and asks you to teach her how to play. Joel joins and isn’t too happy about losing three times against you.

— 𝐖𝐚𝐫𝐧𝐢𝐧𝐠𝐬: 18+ content (minors dni!), age gap (reader is in her mid twenties, Joel is early fifties), sex, p in v, unprotected sex, vaginal fingering, dirty talk, use of whore (like once), pet names (darling, sweetheart, angel), multiple orgasms, they do it on the table, cum eating, bit of angst, insecure Joel, canon divergency, probably ooc Joel and Ellie, mentions of death and loss, alcohol consumption, confessing feelings. Let me know if I missed something!

a/n: this one’s a bit rushed but I wanted to post it before my birthday so I apologize if it isn’t great. Anyways, I’m writing a second Javi fic, so if you liked 𝐌Í𝐀 I’m certain you’re going to love the next one:)

no use of y/n

𓍊𓋼𓍊𓋼𓍊

"You're cheating." Ellie rambles, standing up to get a better view of the board and analyze it from different angles. You can't help but giggle at her childish attitude, cause it truly brought a certain joy to the dynamic. "Hey! It's not funny."

"How could I cheat? You were watching my game the whole time." You defend you case, raising your hands in a sign of peace but gaining a glare from the girl.

"I don't know, you're the one who's teaching me." In that moment, you hear the crack of the front door opening, but none of you bother to stand and greet the main resident of the house, too busy in your own matters.

"Look, I'm playing fair. I am simply older and more experienced than you." Ellie grimaces and sits back on the chair, both arms crossed over her chest. "But try not to feel too bad. I've always been really good at chess."

Joel enters the dining room and walks right past you, going straight to the kitchen. You guess he's either going for a beer or to pour some whiskey into his favorite glass. Always the same routine every weekend: he would come home late with absolutely no explanations as to where he was, drink something strong and spend some time with both of you before heading to bed.

"You must be a really good strategist, then." She replies, amused. "I’ve heard this game is all about that. Strategies."

When you're about to respond, the man's heavy footsteps get closer as he comes to the room once again and leans back on the wall opposite to you, a glass of whiskey on his hand. His grayish hair is messy and his eyes seem to shine brighter under the warm light hanging over your heads when he looks at you intently. Often, he would appear exhausted after being off all day, but tonight it was different. Something about him was, but you couldn’t quite pinpoint it.

Ellie must've sensed a shift in the air, since she changed her approach in a second. "Joel, you're pretty ancient. I bet you know how to play."

You hold back your laughter at her mocking comment, reaching the board to rearrange the pieces. He cocked an eyebrow in her direction, straightening his posture nonchalantly.

"I'm more of a poker man," he retorts with a distant air, diverting his gaze to Ellie.

"Poker?" You frown as he comes your way, but doesn't take a sit just yet. "I didn't take you for a gambler, Miller."

He sets the glass down on the table, leaning over the chair next to you with a smirk. "M'not. There’s many ways of playing other than betting your money, f’you know what I mean.”

Your eyes widen at his response, taken aback. So he meant like… The one were you end up naked. “Now, I would’ve expected that from Tommy, but you? That’s a surprise.”

He shrugs, faded smile still on his lips.

You remembered what Ellie once told you, ‘he does that whenever you’re around,’ she had said in a meditative tone, ‘smile, I mean. It’s kind of creepy cause… y’know, he never does.’ Perhaps that’s why she acted differently every time you three were together.

“Yeah, whatever.” The girl grumbles. “Can you play chess or not? I need someone to take revenge for me.”

Joel takes a seat beside you, slowly, glancing over the board before sipping from his drink again. He looks back at Ellie, whose eyes were sparkling with excitement. The man sighs in defeat, well aware that he just couldn’t say no to her. A dad reflex, maybe, but it worked out in her favor and she’d take advantage of it as much as she could.

“Fine. I call black.” You nod in agreement and the younger one leans on her elbows for a better view. “Either way, I know you like making the first moves. Ain’t that right, darlin’?”

Your first reaction was almost choking on your own saliva. Honestly, how dare he say something like that in front of Ellie? Did he suddenly forget that she was fourteen and terribly clever? Had he lost his mind? Also, he never called you by anything other than your name whenever she was around, so this whole situation felt like a personal attack.

“You okay over there?” Ellie asked, slightly concerned at your incessant coughing.

“Yeah…” you give him a dirty look and press a hand to your chest, making the first move with a white pawn. “Could you bring me some water? I think my soul might’ve left my body.”

“Sure.” She quickly answers, standing up. Joel doesn’t say anything else, his mind focused only on the game now.

It had all happened last weekend.

Thinking in retrospective, your relationship with him had always been ambiguous. You couldn’t quite recall when he actually started talking to you and not just ‘bear with your presence’, nor when his invitations to come over to his place started coming from him and not Ellie.

At first, it was simply you and her. Bonding was easy, despite her sharp character. She looked up to you, for whatever reason that might be, and that smoothed things. Joel was a completely different story. He acted like you didn’t exist, as if you were merely another bug roaming his house. Though when he saw how good your friendship with Ellie was, his brusque behavior started to fade, or at least settle down somehow.

Sooner than later you started coming over to make dinner, or teach the teenager how to bake some of the recipes your grandmother had thought you -more like you’d do everything while she chatted to keep you entertained-. But truth be told, it became more of an excuse to see him.

Honestly, you were doomed since the very beginning. There was undeniably no way you would’ve been able to escape Joel Miller’s silent charm. His presence became a constant need to you, and you’d often find yourself relating certain things to him. Smoke, denim, pills, booze, watches and boots, to mention a few. To you, he was all gray and blue, merging in the best way possible.

You didn’t expect him to thank you for taking care of them. Them. Not just Ellie, him too. Or that he’d suddenly show up to places you would frequent, which made you wonder, could he possibly feel the same way? Sure, it could’ve been a simple coincidence… If it weren’t for the stolen looks you’d often share. Though his face rarely reflected any interest in you, his piercing gaze would frequently burn your skin every time you were hanging out with other men.

Two weeks ago, Maria had been held back from patrol due to her pregnancy, and you were called to fill up her place. The thing is, you were supposed to leave with Tommy, but somehow ended up with his older brother, riding at dawn in utter silence and searching for a prey to hunt. It wasn’t particularly uncomfortable, yet it allowed you to watch him more attentively: his broad shoulders and sturdy back, the dark graying hair that, in some way, made him more attractive. And then your mind, went to some… Darker places.

How would his big, manly hands feel cupping your breasts? Flashy images of his rough, calloused fingers pinching your nipples meandered your mind. His face buried between your legs, his mustache tickling your…

“You ‘kay there, sweetheart?” He had asked, abruptly taking you out of your freakish daydreaming. “You seem distracted.”

Well, that was a way of putting it. “Yeah, I’m fine. It’s just…” you babbled, “I hate the rifle.” Joel glanced back at you with a stiff, confused expression. “If I shoot this thing, I’ll feel the kickback on my shoulders and back for at least two weeks from now.”

The horses were stagnant, waiting by the trees while you took a stroll nearby, keeping an eye for any sort of animal that would serve for dinner.

“Show me.” He said, internally amused by your inquiring expression. “Show me how you hold it.”

“Oh…” You compeled, in spite of the anxiety his stern eyes brought upon you.

“You’re doin’ it wrong.” He grunted, coming to approach you, still holding the position.

You scowled, raising a brow to him but not daring to move a muscle. “Maybe you’re just making me nervous, did you think about that?”

Joel plants himself behind you, staying so close that you could feel the warmth of his body through the many layers of clothing. Your heartbeat races when his hand rearranges the rifle on your elbow, unintentionally wrapping his arms around you.

“You need to hold it like this.” His tone was low but still firm. “Keep it up.” You feel his chest pressed to your back and his face near yours, making it hard to breathe.

You can’t bring yourself to look at him, cause if your head turns even a little, you fear the distance between you might as well disappear. His hand holds your wrist steady, the other one going from your elbow to your waist in a tight grip that makes you gasp.

“Do I make you nervous?” He questioned, without letting you go. Paying no mind to the way your nerves buzzed and ears rang at the proximity, you slowly nodded. “Are you afraid of me?”

His doubt made your heart jump and knit your brows together. “No. I trust you.” Joel’s breath hit your temple and it took all the self control in your body not to get rid of the distance.

“You shouldn’t.” Both his hands are on your waist in a firm grasp. He definitely noticed your flushed cheeks, the ragged breathing and constant desire to look at him. Like a damn teenager in love. You gulp, trying to regain composure.

“And why is that?” He didn’t answer, and every second that passed and his hands were still on you only made it worse. You needed to get closer or your lungs would crush under the weight of expectation. “Joel?”

You finally gave in, raising your head to face him. He was already looking down at you, eyes smitten and lost. A reflection of him you’d never seen before. Your gaze goes to his lips and inevitably lick your own before going up to his deep, brown eyes again.

Fucking hell, the man was mesmerizing.

Before you even knew what you were doing, you’re leaning forward, completely forgetting about the rifle and the whole world around you. Your noses touch and your lips merely brush against each other’s. Instinctively, you close your eyes in hopes that he’d go for it.

But he didn’t.

Instead, his hand comes to arrange your posture again, murmuring a lazy ‘easy’ in your ear, that shared moment vanishing in thin air.

“When shooting a weapon this big, you gotta bring your strength from your torso and legs.” And then he acted like nothing happened; nevertheless, he was perfectly aware of the effect he had on you. “That way it won’t hurt after.”

Well shit. Now you had screwed up.

This man was like a father to Ellie and you were not only infatuated with him, but also add to the list that you had purposely tried to kiss him. You were embarrassed, to say the least. Specially since it appeared that whatever feelings you had were one-sided.

Or so you thought, up until last Saturday.

You hadn’t talked with him about it. In fact, you hadn’t even been alone with him ever since. It was probably for the best, though, that way you wouldn’t have to humiliate yourself in front of him any further. Every time you happened to cross paths, he seemed aloof, more indifferent than usual.

It was pretty late, probably past midnight and Joel hadn’t yet arrived. You had spent all day with Ellie and now you were just waiting for his return, but she was growing tired and you didn’t think it was fair for her to stay up for too long.

“Go to bed, okay? I’ll wait for him.” You told her with a smile.

“Nah, don’t worry. I’m not even…” whatever she was going to say got cut off by her yawn.

“Right. You were saying?” She rolled her eyes and snorted at your victorious air.

“Fine. But promise you won’t stay for too long. I’d hate to know you didn’t get any sleep because of me.” You agreed and said everything would be fine, that she had nothing to worry about.

So you waited there on his living room, reading old crappy magazines about celebrity gossip while facing the crackling fire that kept the house warm. It was easy to lose track of time this way, therefore, when the door opened at last, you had no idea how long you had been waiting around. You rushed to his encounter, but you were totally unprepared for what happened next.

“Jesus Christ, Joel. Are you- shit…” the man standing ahead was someone you knew, but could barely recognize. The side of his face was bleeding, a cut going from his temple to the cheekbone and there were bruises scattered around it. He was sweating and you could swear he was about to faint.

You closed the door behind him, tugging his shoulder to drag him inside, all the way to the kitchen. Despite his rumbles of protest, Joel allowed you to do it, putting up no resistance. His mind was screaming at him to tell you that you should leave and that he didn’t need any help. But he was too fucking exhausted and you were being so kind and warm… He just couldn’t bring himself to do it, ignoring the part of his brain that kept telling him ‘you’ll regret this later’. For once in a very long time, he was being irrational, letting another part of him take control; or rather lose it completely.

You sat him down on a chair and took a clean towel, wetting it with cold water to treat the wound. In addition, you also took the bottle of whiskey that he kept locked away where Ellie wouldn’t find it, pouring him a glass. He gulps it down straight away.

Joel observes your every move closely. Your steady hands going to his chin and raising his face to the light, the way your features drown in concern and your dazzling eyes examine the injury. His skin burnt there where you touched him and it was becoming hard for him to keep his mind focused, growing dizzier with pain and intoxicated by your perfume. He really shouldn’t be feeling this way, and it burdens him to know it. Your lovely, young self shouldn’t be an object of his desire; and the fact that you were what he wanted the most was killing him achingly slow.

Because, even if you did want him back, what good could it possibly come from the whole thing? He’d just hold you back. There were plenty of other men in Jackson that could offer you things he certainly couldn’t. Yeah, that was it. He was way too corrupted to be deserving of someone like you.

“Does it hurt too much?” You muttered while getting rid of the blood, careful not to be too harsh.

“S’okay, angel.” The name-calling wasn’t something you usually liked. It sounded condescending coming from other men, but when he did it, your stomach fluttered. “Were you waiting for me?”

You nod vaguely, “I was worried.” His eyes bore into yours and your heart skips a beat. “I mean we. We were worried.”

“Right…” He noticed how your fingers brushed the hair out of his face tenderly, his self-control threatening to crumble under your touch with every second that went by. His hand takes your wrist, preventing you from keeping up your work. For a moment, he says nothing, simply staring at you fixedly. “I think you should leave.” He blurts out, letting go of you.

Oh, there they were. Those mixed signs that you always seemed to misinterpret.

You groan in exasperation, leaving the bloody towel beside the bottle of alcohol. “I’m just trying to help.”

“I don’t need your pity.” Joel was being petty and his deliver managed to hurt a little. But you would not give him that much power, at least not without putting up a fight.

“It’s not about that and you know it.” You cross both arms over your chest and sit on the edge of the table, determined to get out of that agog that wouldn’t let you sleep. “Why are you pushing me away?”

He rubs a hand over his face, taking his time to retort and avoiding your eyes. “I can’t give you what you want.”

You laugh sardonically, challenging him. “And what is that?” His gaze is disdainful and rude, but you don’t let him intimidate you. “Are you afraid?”

If you were anyone else, you’d be shaking with fear. Joel was tough, to the point where some might call him cynical. But you knew he wouldn’t hurt you. His goal was to scare you off.

“Go. I don’t need you here.” You don’t move an inch, resolved to bring an end to whatever this was and ignoring his vicious glare.

“No,” you huffed.

“I told you to leave.” He was getting pissed, his voice trembling with anger and the cold words slicing the tense air.

“And I said no. I don’t take orders from you.” His lips were sealed in a fine line, eyes feisty. “Be honest with me and then I’ll see myself out.”

Silence again. A more prolonged one in which none of you had the bravery to come forward. Every second that went on and nothing happened was a torture you could not endure. That was it then, you’d made a fool of yourself yet again.

“Fine.” Your voice comes out unsteady from choking down the tears as you stand up straight, set on leaving all these feelings behind.

But right when you walk by his side, Joel’s hand grabs your arm softly. His grip wasn’t strong enough to hold you back if you really wanted to go, kind of like he was unsure about his own actions.

“Push me away.” He pleads. And it sounds desperate, as if the whole situation caused him agony. “Please, push me away.”

Your wet your lips, astonished by how guilty he appeared when practically begging you to stay away, “I can’t,” you respond, “I won’t.”

There was no turning back now. He had trapped himself on purpose and jeopardized everything the moment he laid his hand on you. The minute your eyes found each other’s, he realized he’d just lost all willpower that remained.

Joel pulled you closer and the sudden action almost made you trip, forcing you to place both hands on his chest to stay still. Something flicked in his eyes, something you couldn’t quite comprehend. But you took it as a sign to fully give in to your desires, as long as he’d permit it. You sit on his lap, solely enjoying the moment. His face, despite the beating, was ever so beautiful. It wasn’t fair. If he wanted you too, why did he have make it this difficult? Perhaps he was simply… Insecure.

“What have you done to me, sweetheart?” He asked, voice strained as he looks down at your lips. Your fingertips gently trace the edges of his face.

“I’m afraid I don’t understand.” One of his hands covers your thigh and the other rests on his knee.

“Do you like playin’ around with an old man like me?” You can’t help but laugh a bit, your thumb going across his bottom lip. “Is this what you want? A sweet thing like you can do so much better.”

“I don’t care for boys, or any other men for that matter.” His chest swells at your words. “I like you, Joel. Is that so hard to believe?” The man swears you can feel his heart thumping against his ribs when he whispers a barely audible ‘yes’. His honesty moved you and grew a weird feeling in your chest that impelled you to prove him wrong.

In response, you lastly get rid of that awful distance, pressing a sweet kiss to his lips and feeling the unfamiliar tickle of his mustache. It was stubborn at first, but he caved in eventually, kissing you back slowly. He took his time to relish on your taste before deepening the kiss, manhandling you on top of him. Joel’s hands are on your lower back and the nape of your neck as his tongue explores your mouth in depth, letting go of himself. You moaned in between the kiss, drunken by every light stimulation, which only spurred him on and turned the situation hungrier, more desperate.

“Joel…” you pull back, laying your forehead against his. “I have to go.”

You feel him chuckle at your declaration. “Seriously? Now?” His tone was raspy and faint.

“I don’t want to.” You assure with a pout, “But I fear that if I stay, this won’t end in a simple kiss. And Ellie’s upstairs, remember?” He agreed it was for the best, but still couldn’t seem to keep his hands to himself, asking you to stay the night even if he had to sleep on the couch.

That was the night that started everything.

After that weekend, the way he acted changed radically. He remained with that grim, stoic exterior. Yet, he was brighter around you, more beaming. In public, he’d always find a way to touch you, even if it was merely a brief brush of skin. On bolder days, he’d pull you apart from a crown and take you somewhere darker to make out for as long as you could. Which wasn’t much, since everyone always appeared to have some sort of unresolved business with either of you.

Today, however, something was odd. Joel went off, as usual, and you stayed with Ellie, who had found an old, ragged chessboard somewhere in Jackson. A game that, as it turns out, you particularly loved.

That’s how you ended up here.

Three rounds afterwards, you keep winning and increasing his irritation.

“Checkmate.” You say for the fifth time tonight, giving him a triumphant smile, getting up from your seat to pour some whiskey into your glass.

“You’re cheating.” He barks, annoyed.

“See! I told you.” Ellie backed him up and the way they teamed up to bash you almost made you giggle.

“Suck it up, losers!” You shout from the kitchen, entertained by their resentment.

“Spill your secrets then, otherwise I will simply not be convinced.” She replies, glowering.

The drink nearly dissolves on your tongue and you leave the glass on the counter, coming to join them again. You rest both hands on her shoulders in a friendly gesture.

“My grandpa thought me when I was young. Before the outbreak, I mean.” Ellie turns her head to look at you in interest. “He got sick afterwards… Forgetful and amnesiac.” You explain, “Chess stimulated his brain and since I was his only family left, we would spend hours playing.” Joel’s chest feels heavy at the sight of your nostalgic smile. “We had a great time together. He… Passed away a couple years ago.” Ellie takes your hand on her own in a comforting manner, but you don’t feel particularly sad, simply emotional about the past. “Hey, kiddo. Didn’t you have a movie night with Dina today?”

“Shit!” Her eyes widen. “Thanks for the reminder, I totally lost track of time,” she gets up with an apologetic smile, “I’m gonna head out now.” She quickly takes a jacket and ties her hair up. “You guys can keep playing or… I don’t know, just don’t wait around for me.”

And just like that, you’re left alone.

After an entire week of sneaking around and behind everyone’s back, you’re finally alone.

There’s a shift in the air of the room and you narrow your eyes when you gape at him. “You think she knows something?”

He tilts his head to the side and finishes his whiskey. “Probably. Can’t know for sure.” The vague answer made you shrug, deciding to put a pin to it for later.

Now that no one was around, you were determined to have some fun, coming up with a plan that could escalate things between you. And he surely thought so too. It wouldn’t be difficult to get his attention, since he was constantly monitoring your every move. Being that way, you intentionally stand beside him when leaning to reorder the pieces, giving him a very good view of your ass.

“Another round?” You ask tauntingly, “Or are you already tired of getting defeated?”

He grunts, upset by the previous resolutions. “I’d like to play another game.” You turn around with a cheeky smile. “One that I won’t lose.”

“And what would that be?” He gives you a darkened, intense glance, his lips pursed in a smirk.

Joel Miller was a man of few words and he totally lived up to it. Instead of responding, he grabbed your hips and dragged your body to the side, so that you were now standing between his legs, lingering against the edge of the table. You swallow hard, meeting his heavy gaze from above him. It made your pulse raise and blood rush, igniting something that you haven’t quite felt with anyone else yet. He presses a kiss to your clothed abdomen, eyes never wandering from yours as he lowers his lips to your pelvis, lifting your shirt leisurely.

“Look at you, darlin’. All flustered and I’ve barely done anything.” Your chest rises and falls methodically, the atmosphere feeling dense despite the chilly air. Your tongue darts out to lick your lips when he starts laying open-mouthed kisses along your exposed belly, sending shivers through your whole body, “Off,” he motions at your clothes.

You do as told, getting rid of the shirt and tossing it to the floor. His big, warm hands strain your movements as he explores your skin, kissing all the way up to the valley of your breasts.

“Joel…” you take a fistful of his hair and pull at it mildly, just enough to yank his head backwards and bring your lips together, swallowing a whimper from him.

The kiss is ambitious, all teeth and tongue, as if you had been craving each other for long and had just barely given in. He swiftly stands up and sits you at the end of the table, spreading your knees to settle in between your thighs. He parts from your mouth and traces your jawline, neck and collarbones, nibbling and sucking the sensitive skin, lightly scraping it with his facial hair. You were a mess at this point, panting and tugging at him as if you were about to collapse. But then he stops, breathing heavily against your chest and looking up to you with dark, lustful eyes.

“What- Did I do something wrong?” You stutter with uncertainty.

“Ain’t nothing wrong, angel.” His hand rests heavy on your thigh, a mischievous grin painted on his face. “But I told you we’d play a different game, didn’t I?”

This new side of him was exciting in many ways possible and whatever it was he wanted to do, you were certain it was going to be fun. And, possibly, a bit tortuous. You peer at him in expectation.

“Make your move.” He commanded, pointing the board with a succinct head movement. You obligue, choosing a random pawn and moving it with shaky hands while struggling to think straight. The man hums and decides to mirror your tactic. “Keep goin’.”

Next thing you know his fingers unhook your bra and you have to make a quick choice in spite of all the distractions. At the end, you go for a horse, barely capable of register anything other than his hands taking off the piece of clothing. After contemplating your scheme, he moves another pawn in return.

“Shit.” He hissed at the sight of your exposed tits, nipples hard from the cold air and arousal. “Focus.”

You weren’t sure if that last order was for him or for you, but either way the game kept going. He had enough attention span to grope your breasts and tweak your nipples between the pads of his calloused fingers, while also moving the chess pieces around. You couldn’t say the same for yourself; a louder moan escaping your lips when he replaced his fingers with his mouth.

The more ministrations he provided, the harder it became to make strategic moves. But you were determined not to let him win, regardless of the ache between your legs and the growing wetness in your panties that he refused to attend.

“Joel, I…” He takes away one of your rooks, his lips attached to your neck and hands caressing your inner thighs. “I need more.”

He huffs a laugh that vibrates through your lower body. “That right, angel? Tell me what you want.”

You take away his only bishop left and hear him growl at his approaching defeat. “Touch me, please.”

“Where?” His scent fogs your senses, so manly and distinctive of him, growing the need to feel him in any way possible. “Words, sweetheart.”

“I need your fingers in my cunt, Joel.” You spit out, watching his Adam’s apple bob up and down his throat and increasing his arousal with your lack of coyness. “Please.”

“Anything for my pretty girl.” He unbuttons your pants and slides one hand inside, palming your pussy over the underwear, altering your breathing pattern and moving the queen with his free hand. “Fuck, you’re drippin’.” You grind against his hand and his grip on your waist tightens to keep you still as he kneads circles on your clit over the thin fabric. “Your turn, darlin’.”

The game carries on at the same time as he moves your panties aside and slides two thick fingers inside your entrance, his thumb still fondling your nub slowly. You can’t keep your moans at low and the stimulation picks up when he curls his digits to hit your right spots. All that can be heard in the room is the cracking wood of the fireplace and the squelching sounds of your pussy.

“Jesus Christ, Joel…” you cry out his name, burying your face on the crook of his neck, grabbing the soft flannel in your fists and spilling all your whimpers into his ear, delighting yourself with the way he smelt. He groans at the feeling of your bare chest pressed to him, his cock throbbing painfully at every sound you’d make.

“You like that, darlin’? You like to fuck my fingers on top of this table like a needy little whore?” You clench around him and throw your head back, a new wave of slick coating all the way to his knuckles. “Ah, so you do like it.”

“Yes, Joel. I-” he speeds up his pace, greedily circling your clit in a way that makes your back arch, giving him a glorious view from his position.

“Fuck, you’re so hot. Been wanting to do this for so fuckin’ long…” He admits, peppering kisses all over your breasts.

“Me too. Thought about you when I-” your voice gets lost at the sudden feeling of heat settling on your lower stomach, building up your crescendo. “When I was alone.” Your confession only manages to prompt him further and make his movements more effective. You squirm under his touch, a hand messing his hair while the other holds his belt to keep him close.

He groans a deep ‘fuck’ at the pathetic sound you made. All because of him. No; all of them for him.

“Joel, I’m- shit, I’m close,” there’s a hotness on the pit of your stomach that extends to your legs.

“I know, angel.” He coos, his free hand brushing the hair out of your face. “Go ahead, do it.” His words are all it takes for your orgasm to hit, shocking every nerve on your body. He helps you come down from it, tracing soothing patterns on your bare skin as your body quivers from elation.

“Joel…” you whisper, both your hands on his belt and going to unbuckle it, watching as he takes both fingers to his lips and licks them clean.

“Sweet” he kisses you again, deeply. You happily return it with the same energy, nibbling at his bottom lip while your palm slides inside his jeans to feel up his bulge over the underwear. He muffles a moan in your mouth, his hot, hard cock twitching under your grip.

Your hand drifts inside his boxers to feel him directly, your thumb rubbing over the tip to spread the surprising amount of precum that oozed there. Joel gasped into your mouth, the sound prompting you further.

“Checkmate.” You tell him, pulling back only when you needed to breathe, guiding your finger to your tongue in order to taste him. “I won.”

His eyes divert to the board in awe, and you admire his mesmerized expression when he confirms that you had, in fact, won again. Joel comes back to dote on your devilish grin, fueled up by a new thrill of excitement.

“Fuck this…” he mutters through gritted teeth, mindlessly tossing the board to the side and letting it fall off the table along with all the pieces, making an absolute mess. It appears like he doesn’t even register any of it, going straight back to kissing you, his hands sliding your pants down your legs.

“Shit, Joel…” You can’t help but laugh at his reaction, encouraged by his sudden passion.

As your lips collide once again, you start to unbutton his shirt and he helps you out of your jeans, along with your very wet panties. He pushes your back against the wooden surface, holding you down with a hand around your neck.

“Winners that boast in their victory are only brats.” He snarls, taking his dick out for you to see. Your mouth waters at the sight of it: thick, bigger than you could’ve expected, the head swollen and glistening. “Brats need to be tamed.”

You whine when he parts your thighs even wider, teasing your slit with his tip, covering it in your slick and intentionally grazing your aching clit, urging you to grab his bicep for support.

“Can’t you just fuck me already?” You blurt out, the sensation only edging you more. “I might just cum again from all the teasing.”

His fingertip sweeps across your bottom lip, an eyebrow raised. “You really that sensitive, angel?” He questions, “Or is it just because of me?”

The inquiry nearly makes you crack up. Damn, the man was totally clueless. “Are you really that unaware of the effect you have on me?”

His stare reflects how pleased he is to hear that. “How many times did you beat me tonight, sweetheart?”

It takes an actual effort for you to recall and muster up an answer when he keeps toying with you so mercilessly. “Three, I presume.”

Joel’s hand slithers to your lower back, keeping you angled for him. “Then I’ll get you off three times.” Your heart jumps at the sentence and you look at him in disbelief. “Can you do that, angel?”

Three fucking times?

When your whole life men had only ever given you… None, practically. One at most, if you were lucky enough. And Joel mother-fucking Miller had the nerve to ask if you could handle three.

“Bet.” The answer is music to his ears, giving in once and for all as he enters you unhurriedly.

He’s so big and you feel him splitting you open exquisitely, the sensation fading any thoughts, beliefs or identities from your mind. Right now, all you know is him. It stings a little and it forces you to screw your eyes shut, letting out a small whine as he bottoms out, your nails digging on his arm.

“You’re doing s’good, baby.” He continues to say in midst of it, talking your way through it, “Taking me so well…” You think it’s somewhat unfair that he’s still fully clothed and you’re naked as the day you came; yet, at the moment your mind can’t even think of anything but his cock, buried deep inside you. “If something feels off or it becomes to much… Let me know and I’ll stop.” You nod, eagerness starting to scratch your insides.

“Yes. Now can you please, please start moving.” He holds back a chuckle, gazing at you from above, barely lifting your hips to feel more of him.

“Atta girl,” he obeys, thrusting his hips sharply and deep. “Look so pretty beggin’ to be fucked.” His big arm travels to the arch in your back, withdrawing and pushing in again, slowly losing his consciousness to pleasure.

“Fucking hell, you fill me up so good…” he moans gruffly at your comment, pulling you down on his cock as he picks up an unrelenting pace, hitting every right spot as if he knew them all by memory.

“Shit, you’re so tight,” Joel drags in an out, rejoicing himself in every high pitched moan you’d spill. Your legs wrap around his waist in an effort to keep him as close as you could.

The angle is very intimate, his whole body flushed against yours, warm and firm, while your hand snakes under his flannel to dig your nails on his bare shoulders, the other scratching his scalp delicately and Joel’s hot, erratic breaths hitting your face as you gape at him. It’s like everything else disappeared and it was all about the two of you and this moment of pure rapture. Unable to contain your urge, you search for his lips, kissing him one more time, the mixture of mint and alcohol in his mouth fogging your senses in the best way possible.

His tip nudges your g-spot relentlessly, the stretch his girth provided so satisfying that you clench around him as your second orgasm approaches, causing him to pull apart from the kiss and let out a sinful groan, deep from his throat, that sends a shudder up your spine. It all becomes too much; the friction of your delicate nipples with his shirt, his thick cock dragging against your walls and lastly, Joel’s teeth biting down the soft skin under your ear, his facial hair scraping deliciously. That is your cum button.

“That’s my girl, making a mess on my dick,” he fucks you through it, slowing down his pace and only pulling out when your legs tremble. “Say it darlin’, tell me who you belong to.”

“You, Joel…” he basks in the view of your fucked out self, looking up at him in a delirious state, eyes low, heat soared across your cheeks and lips plumped. “Shit, Miller,” you sit up, arm still hanging around his broad shoulders while his hard, throbbing cock rested against your thigh. “You’re so fucking hot, did you know that? It drives me insane.”

He laughs huskily, his big hand caressing the side of your face in a caring manner. “I’m sorry, sweetheart,” he speaks softly, “I think I might’ve fucked you so hard I scrambled your brain.”

You actually crack up this time, pressing a kiss to his forehead and muttering an: “Idiot.” He grabs your thighs and methodically swirls your body, flushing your back against his chest. Without warning, he slams into you again, making you yelp at the sudden action.

“You’ve got a dirty mouth,” he pokes fun at you, “next time we’ll put it to use.” And the promise raises goosebumps on your skin.

This new position gave you the opportunity to feel him deeper, if that was even possible. His thighs and hips firm against yours, every single snap making you feel that delicious stretch he provided as your cunt envelopes him tightly. But you were already far too sensitive and every light touch added to his thrusts made your body feel weaker.

“Joel, I-” he holds you with an arm covering your waist, his fingers pinching your nipples. “Fuck, I won’t last…”

He becomes more vocal, his disjointed moans drifting from his lips right into your ear while the hand on your hip makes its way to rub your clit gloriously, in a way that makes you wonder just how the fuck does he know exactly what your body likes.

“Is my sweet girl gonna cum for me?” you nod, unable to form any words, only capable of reveling on the way his cock throbs inside you. “Speak, remember?”

But you can’t. Nothing comes out of your mouth besides his name, like a constant plea. When the third one finally came, it was simply euphoric; your whole body shudders and your vision goes white, tears spilling from the corners of your eyes as you start to feel lightheaded. Joel draws out with a grunt, a string of curses leaving his lips as you spin around to see him. Your hand wraps around his own when he fucks his fist and you take in the sight of him cumming all over your fingers, his forehead laying on your shoulder as you milk him. Inevitably, you lick your fingers to taste his salty load. A sight that would be engraved in his brain for the rest of his days and that could possibly haunt him in his time apart from you.

“Checkmate my ass,” he grits between shaky breaths, your hand stroking his hair as he comes down from his high.

“What a sore loser…” you joke. In fact, you plan to say something more, but you feel too tired for anything.

It didn’t really matter, though. Joel took good care of you. He bathed with you, cleaned up the whole mess and gave you one of his shirts for you to sleep with, eventually going to bed with your very passed out self.

Well, if Ellie didn’t know anything before, she surely will now.

#joel miller #joel the last of us #the last of us #pedro pascal #pedro pascal characters #pedro pascal fanfiction #joel miller fanfiction #joel miller x y/n #joel miller x reader #joel miller x you #joel miller smut #the last of us oneshot #the last of us hbo

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crosshairlovebot · 2 months

Text

welcome home / hunter x f!reader

pairing: hunter x f!reader

description: you return home to find hunter in the shower, and he shows you just how much he missed you while he was gone.

word count: 4,036

warnings: NSFW 18+ explicit sexual content. heavy scent kink. plot only if you squint. p in v s*x. oral s*x (f receiving). slight overstimulation. lots of kissing. slight body worship. cr*ampie.

the need to write a part two to that hunter smut a couple of weeks ago was so strong there was no avoiding it. the hunter feels gripped me so hard they're shaking me around like a rag doll. i have never written a full smut sequence like this before, so please bear with me if it's not as perfect as i would like! i'm doing my best!

although the previous part (which is not essential to read to understand this) was written with gender-neutral pronouns, this part is with a female reader. i wanted to make sure i could actually write a scene like this since i've never done it before. gender-neutral smut is something i'd like to try in the future once i feel more comfortable writing in this style :)

also posted this on ao3. feedback is welcomed, reblogs are appreciated. MINORS DO NOT INTERACT

You rode the slightly odorous lift up to your apartment floor, the doors sliding open slowly once it arrived. The hallway light flickered every minute or two as you approached the door to your humble abode, your body aching after working more overtime than you should’ve stayed for. Yawning, you pressed in the code before promptly walking into the still-closed door with a thud.

You frowned, suddenly more alert. You checked the panel and saw that you had just locked your apartment, not unlocked it. Living on Coruscant – especially in an area not known for being the safest corner of the planetary city – had informally trained you to watch for your safety almost constantly. And the possibility that your door may have been unlocked by someone who may or may not be waiting inside to hurt you was a red flag.

Heart beating faster, you pressed your ear up against the door, to see if you could hear anyone and your eyes widened when you heard a faint groan coming from inside.

Panic began to course through your veins, and you debated whether or not you should call the authorities before deciding against it. They wouldn’t get here in time to be of any use, and so many crimes happened on Coruscant that you doubted anyone would even come at all.

Instead, you steeled yourself and then typed in the code again.

Save for the single lamp you always left on; the apartment was dark. The yellow light bathed the small space in a soft glow that made everything look a little less like a standard-issue Coruscanti apartment and a little more like a home. You quietly dropped your bag by the door, picked up a vase from the entryway and crept into your apartment. It was then you heard the shower running and the soft hum of a smokey tenor echo through the apartment. Your shoulders instantly relaxed.

There was only one person who would break into your apartment and take a shower.

You placed the vase down on the kitchen bench, a smile biting the corners of your mouth as you walked to your small ensuite bathroom, the humming getting louder. Your smile only got wider when you saw his armour stacked neatly next to the dresser. You could hear the hum louder from here, and your heart squeezed itself against your ribs. He was happy.

You opened the door slowly, knocking softly even though he would sense you were there as soon as the door opened. “Hunter?”

The humming stopped and Hunter’s wet head poked around the shower curtain. If he was a sight when he was dry, he was completely ethereal when wet. His hair stuck around his shoulders and neck, water dripping down his tattooed face onto his neck. He smiled out the side of his mouth, eyes bright at the sight of you. “Hey, you.”

You grinned, just as pleased to see him. “Hey. You’re back.”

“I am.”

You nodded to the steaming shower. “Can I join you?”

He wordlessly pulled back the shower curtain as his answer, revealing half of his bare muscular body. You undressed quickly, piling your clothes on top of his blacks that had been kicked near the privy before stepping in with him. Almost instantly, you were engulfed in Hunter’s arms, his wet body pressed against yours as he pushed his nose into your neck, breathing deeply.

“Someone missed me,” you smiled, hands holding his upper arms and squeezing them gently.

You felt his breath on your neck as he nuzzled his nose against your skin. It was always the first thing he did when he saw you. “You have no idea how much,” the words buzzing against your skin.

At the feel of his half-hard length pressed into your stomach, and you chuckled. “I think I can guess.”

Hunter trailed his hands down your body, nose still buried in your neck. He loved the way you smelled. Something about it drove him crazy, though you weren’t sure what it was specifically. But you’d never complain.

You felt him pull you closer, and his wet hair fell onto your shoulder as he dragged his hands up and down your thighs and hips. The water cascaded over you both, and when his hand dipped between your bodies down to the place between your legs, you tipped your head forward to rest on his shoulder as you moaned. “Hunter,” you choked out as his hand moved in slow circles there, and you felt yourself slicken at the touch.

Hunter pressed light kisses to your neck and shoulder, marking a trail up to your ear with his lips. “Been waiting for you to get back.” His voice was ragged like he’d been running, rasping out of him all breathy.

His fingers still moved slowly between you, and you whimpered before telling him quietly. “I thought someone had broken in.”

Hunter pulled back to look at you, his hand stilling as he searched your face with a crease between his brow. He placed a soft kiss on your forehead. “Sorry, cyari’ka, I didn’t mean to scare you.”

You shook your head and looked in his brown-grey eyes as steam continued to rise from the running water. “I heard a loud groan…what were you doing?”

The corner of Hunter’s mouth lifted before those eyes of his darkened. “What do you think?” He pressed an open-mouthed kiss to your jaw.

You hummed. The idea of him getting off in your shower as he waited for you to come home conjured up so many salacious images in your mind you had to squeeze his arms to steady yourself. The thought of him in here, cock in his hand as he stroked himself to just your scent…it only made the arousal building inside you burn hotter.

“Couldn’t wait for me?” You croaked out.

“Kriff, no. As soon as I stepped inside you were everywhere,” he continued his kisses, sucking at your jaw. “And it only got stronger. Every breath I took you were there, inside my lungs, seeping into my skin. You know how insane you make me, and it’s been months…” He drew back and brushed his nose against yours. “Are you mad?”

“God, no,” you breathed against his lips.

“Good.”

Hunter finally kisses your mouth then. His mouth slants over yours and it’s impossible not to moan into it. His tongue moves over your lips and slides against yours. To think when you met him, he had no idea how to kiss and now he knew the inside of your mouth better than you did.

He groaned into the kiss, and you knew his senses were in overdrive right now, the hot wet of your mouth only driving him crazier. He pushed you back against the tile, his solid body trapping you between the cool of the tile and the heat of his skin. His hands gripped your hips as you snaked one leg around his. With his now hard length pressing between you, it was so close to where you needed it. You arched into him, the need to have him as close as humanly possible so intense you could comprehend nothing but Hunter’s kisses and hands as he did everything he could to consume every part of you. Your only thought was how badly you wanted him to.

You had missed him too, after all.

Your hands went into his hair, tugging at the wet strands as he continued to explore your mouth. He broke away but only to resume his kisses down your neck, his tongue lolling out to lick the skin and the droplets of water in between the kisses. Steam from the water clouded your vision, or was that because of the sensation of Hunter’s hands against you? You didn’t know. You moaned as his kisses travelled down your torso.

“Hunter,” you choked out as you watched him lower to his knees in front of you.

“Missed you so much,” he said again, the words vibrating against your skin.

You caressed his temple with your thumb. “I missed you.”

He groaned loudly against the skin of your stomach. “You smell incredible.”

You whimpered, so incredibly turned on as he moved his mouth down, his lips dragging across your skin, and you watched him descend lower, his eyes half closed and rolling back. You could see just how hard he was, up against his stomach. The water continued to flow down his shoulders and half-tattooed torso, down into the hair that covered most of his front.

You raked your fingers through his hair, nails against his scalp and you felt his moan on your stomach, and the sound ignited your insides with desire. It felt like your whole body was electrified, pulsing with need and he’d barely even done anything.

“Hunter, more, please,” you breathed out.

Hunter didn’t need to be told twice. He groaned, standing up and shutting the water off as he kissed you once more. He pulled back, sliding the shower curtain roughly across its pole before picking you up effortlessly. Your arms and legs went around him as he buried his nose in your neck again as he walked to your bed, both of you still dripping wet but neither of you caring enough to do anything about it.

Hunter lay you down gently, moving you up to the pillows as he climbed on top of you. His hair fell forward, dripping onto your chest and he leaned down to suck the droplets off your skin.

You moaned as his mouth travelled to your neck again, kissing you there, his lips sucking gently, and you knew there would be a nice mark there tomorrow that you would grumble about trying to cover for work. But right now, the idea of him laying a claim to you made every nerve ending in your body tingle, especially the ones between your legs.

His lips then made their way to your chest, and he moved to one breast, taking the nipple between his teeth, making you whine before he circled his tongue around it, sucking gently. Your back arched off the bed and you felt his hand slide underneath you, between your shoulder blades, drawing you into his mouth more. He sucked gently, then moved on to the other one, repeating the same ministrations with his tongue.

You panted, mewling with every pinch of his teeth grazing your nipple. He was taking his time with you, as usual, savouring every single part of you. You knew he’d be tired after spending months completing gruelling missions, but he was still eager to pleasure you slowly, work you up until you were begging for a release only he could give.

Exhausted, but never for you.

He released your breast, wetness from his mouth glistening the peak in the dim light. He continued down once again, leaving open-mouthed kisses as he lowered himself between your legs.

He looked up at you, eyes dark with want before he sat back on his heels to spread your legs a little wider, holding the inside of your thighs down with his hands. His thumbs circled the soft skin there as he gazed at you all spread out for him.

He looked beautiful like his. His brown skin illuminated only by the light that managed to creep through the blinds, his tattoo etched down one side of his body which still shined with the water from the shower. His cock was so hard with need, precum already pooling at the tip – you’ve barely even touched him. He was just worked up over touching you, breathing you in. He was average in length, but his thickness set him apart from any other sexual partner you’ve had. You ached to feel it inside you, but if he was taking his sweet time with you, it would be a while before you felt him stretch you.

Hunter was nothing if not thorough.

“Hunter…” you whined, sitting up on your elbows.

“Look so pretty like this,” he told you, not an ounce of insincerity in his tone as he crept down to his elbows, arms wrapping under and around your thighs as he pushed his nose against your centre. He breathed in deeply, and the groan that erupted from the back of his throat buzzed against your core.

“So good…” he murmured as he pushed his nose against your clit, making you jerk. He placed a kiss there before gently bringing it into his mouth to suck. You cry out, hips bucking up into his nose and he moans again before his mouth finally moves over you completely.

You arch your back off the bed as his tongue moves artfully against you. The sensation continued to stoke the fire that had been building the minute he wrapped his arms around you in the shower. You moved your hands to his hair, clutching the roots with your fingers and pushing him closer as he licked and sucked like a man starved. And in a way he was. Your hand was no substitute for this. He licked a line up, before bringing his lips around the bud again and sucking gently. You couldn’t think about anything but his hot mouth and tongue against you. You ground into his mouth, needing more friction as the pleasure began to build in your belly, coiling in hot spirals as Hunter continued. He groaned into you through his ministrations, and when he felt you clench on his tongue, he pulled you impossibly closer to his mouth as he moved his tongue faster. Your breaths filled the room, pants loud and moans echoing in the space. You could feel the mattress move underneath you and you looked down at him with hooded eyes to see him rutting against the mattress, getting off to the pleasure he was giving you.

“Hunter, please, I’m so—” Your words were barely audible, but Hunter knew what you meant as he pressed his tongue harder against you, bringing your clit into his mouth and sucking one more time, flicking it with the tip of his tongue. You cried out, the band inside you snapping as pleasure erupted.

Your back arched and you cried out his name like it was an incantation, over and over as he continued to move his tongue through your undoing, groaning against you as you came all over his tongue. Your hands tight in his hair, you tugged as you shuddered underneath him until the tremors slowed, and you lay breathless, limbs heavy. You looked down at him as he emerged from between your legs, mouth glistening with your come, coating his lips and chin. He licked his lips and groaned. The sight of it was so obscene you felt your body flush.

“Good girl,” he told you before he climbed over you, capturing your mouth in a kiss. You could taste yourself in his mouth and you moaned at the way his fingers briefly dipped inside you. “So good for me,” he told you against your lips. “Always so good.”

“Need you inside me,” you mumbled back.

Hunter groaned and you watched as he drew back to lean on his heels again, using the fingers he’d just brushed through your folds to lubricate his length. He hissed as he circled the tip and down the shaft before he coated his fingers again and slid them in his mouth, sucking them gently with his eyes closed, savouring the taste. You watched him, mesmerised.

Was this man really yours?

He positioned himself at your entrance, holding himself above you with strong arms, face over yours. His eyes were so intense, their brown-grey colour boring into you. He gave you a look, one that differed from the wanting gaze he’d been giving you. This look was one of tenderness, one that asked if you were still good – still okay with this. You nodded and he pressed his lips against yours once more before he eased himself inside you.

You gasped as you stretched around him, clawing at his shoulders as you locked your legs around his. He groaned as he bottomed out, filling you completely. He caught his breath and when you clenched around him, he made a choking sound, swearing.

“Been too long,” he whispered.

“Too long,” you repeated before he drew himself back out slowly. He pushed his nose into your shoulder again as he groaned loudly. Then he slowly began thrusting, the sounds of your moans and groans filling the room, along with the indecent sound of his skin hitting yours as his movements increased in speed.

“Hunter,” you moaned his name, and he groaned in response. His hands found your hips and he adjusted his position so he could reach deeper, and he continued to roll his hips against you, your hands clutching at his forearms as the headboard hit the wall repeatedly.

Sex with Hunter always felt amazing. Full of the kind of passion that almost didn’t feel real. It was full of moans and groans and tantalising touches that built you up and up so when you finally let go, the fall felt so good it was almost immeasurable. It was filled with kisses and though he wasn’t much of a talker, he would whisper how good you felt against him. No matter how rough he was being, you felt safe in his hands and cared for – he made sure of that. Being in the throes of pleasure with Hunter was an all-consuming feeling for you both, one that you relished whenever you got the chance. His time home was so fleeting, that anything you could both do to tell each other how much you missed the other, how much you loved the other, you would do. Later, you would use your words. But right now, your bodies spoke instead; each press, clench, shudder, whimper, and groan said the words for you both.

You could feel those familiar hot coils building again each time he buried himself in you, and you could feel his movements falter slightly as he came closer to his own release. He’d come up from your neck again and you looked up at him, mouth agape as his hair, now half dry, fell over his handsome face and the curled ends tickled your cheeks. You reached up and placed some behind his ear, hand cupping his jaw.

“Hunter—”

Hunter nodded quickly, eyes dark and pupils blown. “I know.”

Of course, he did. His senses were so in tune with your body he could feel the subtle changes of your arousal and smell the way your body was on the precipice of falling.

Hunter’s hands held your hips and the headboard, and he rocked himself into you, faster this time. He panted, a husky noise from the back of his throat sounding with each thrust as he brought you closer. You rasped out a string of yeses as the sensation that had been building rose to its peak. You locked your legs around his thighs, clawing at his back as you clenched hard around him, crying out.

Your back arched into him, fingernails forming crescent moon carvings in the skin of his arms as you shuddered against him. His name fell from your lips as you writhed underneath him, riding out your orgasm as he continued to sink into you on the verge of overstimulation.

“Come on, cyare,” you whispered to him as you were still trembling. "Still got my implant."

It wasn’t a second later until he gave a ragged cry as he stilled, spilling inside you. His eyes screwed shut and his teeth gritted as he groaned loudly – the way you had heard him through the apartment door before. Half collapsing on top of you, he pushed his face into your shoulder again, this time biting the skin there as his thrusts became languid, drawing out as much of his release as possible. You hissed as his teeth claimed your skin, but no matter how worked up Hunter was, he always made sure his bites weren’t too hard.

When Hunter’s shudders stopped, both of you caught your breath. You could feel his breath tickle your shoulder, and this was the first time since you’d been home that you registered the familiar musky smell of his skin. You smiled and kissed his shoulder while he was still on top of you, the tangy taste of his sweat on your lips.

Hunter slowly emerged from your shoulder and looked down at you, eyelids heavy and hair all tangled. You smiled, still dazed, and reached up to push it out of his face, tucking it behind his ear again. He smiled warmly at you before kissing the inside of your wrist.

He hissed as he pulled out of you, and the loss of him down there was so prominent you felt an ache. Hunter rolled off you and lay beside you on his stomach for a minute, his eyes drooping shut for a moment before he forced them open again.

“Hang on,” he said and kissed your shoulder lightly before pushing himself up and heading into the bathroom. You giggled as you heard the cupboard door open and shut before the tap turned on. You turned on your side, still half-limp, watching him wet a towel and then re-enter the room.

He sat next to you as he wiped between your legs sleepily, the warm towel a gentle caress on your skin before he placed it on the bedside table and lay down next to you.

You smiled and pulled the covers back so you could get under them together. They were damp from your hasty decision to not dry off beforehand, but they would dry as you slept. You watched as Hunter nestled himself in the mattress, eyes closing, but when you didn’t move closer to him immediately, he peeked an eye open. He reached out to you under the covers, with a frown.

“Come,” he said, his voice thick with exhaustion.

“I did. Twice,” you smirked as you let his hands circle your arms and pull you in closer.

“Shuddup,” he slurred, but he still smiled, kissing your temple as he tucked you against his chest. You breathed in the scent of him as you rested your head on him.

You chuckled. “You smell like me.”

“Good. Need to smell like you forever,” he pushed his nose in your hair, taking a deep breath in. “What is the name of this soap, anyway? Gonna place an order.”

You laughed. You loved he was like this – all soft and sleepy after you’d come together. It was a side only you saw, the shedding of that broody exterior he reserved for his service to reveal the tenderness that was a secret for your eyes only. “I think it’s generic brand vanilla and starflower.”

“Smells fucking incredible,” Hunter mumbled, making you laugh again. You kissed his chest and after a moment of silence where all you did was breathe together, he said, “You okay? I didn’t plan to do all that the second I saw you.”

You smiled. No matter how exhausted he was, he always had to check in with you.

“I’m really, really okay, Hunter,” you told him. “There are worse ways to be greeted upon returning home.”

“I at least wanted one conversation with you before I had my way with you,” Hunter murmured in your skin, kissing your shoulder again, this time where he had bitten you, his lips soothing the slight ache there.

“Talking is overrated,” you joked with a shrug, snuggling into his chest. You felt it thrum with a deep chuckle. He knew you loved to hear him talk.

“Tomorrow, we can talk. I have so much to tell you,” he breathed, lips brushing your temple.

You smiled. “Me too. Tomorrow.” You patted his chest gently. “Sleep now, cyare. I know you’re exhausted.”

Hunter hummed, on the cusp of slumber. “Tomorrow.” You felt his body relax. “Love you, cyare,” he mumbled into your hair.

You heard his breathing become deep and even, his chest rising and falling, his heartbeat steady against your palms. You smiled, closing your eyes. “Love you more.”

banner art by @vimse thank you for reading! <3 again, this is my first time writing a full smut scene like this so feedback (delivered kindly) is really appreciated!!

🏷️ @starrylothcat @sinfulsalutations @moodymisty @nahoney22 @freesia-writes @nobody-expects-the-inquisitorius @bobaprint @crosshairsnose @jesseeka @thegalaxys-edge @chopper-base @wenalena @shredderwest @leavingkamino @r2d2staser @beckbucket @pb-jellybeans @mylifeisactuallyamess @padawancat97 @littlecrowtime @jedipoodoo @ezras-left-thumb @lovelycurls @fruitsaladtree @literallydontlook

TAGLIST FORM

if you're a regular on my tag list but haven't been tagged, it's bc your age isn't in your bio/have said you prefer sfw fics.

#larissa writes #hunter x reader #hunter x reader fic #hunter bad batch smut #hunter x reader smut #hunter bad batch #huter fic #hunter bad batch fic #the bad batch hunter #the bad batch smut #tbb huter #tbb hunter x reader #tbb x reader #bad batch smut #hunter smut

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lionlena · 2 months

Text

Unforgivable mistake (JoelMillerxreader) Part 11

Summary: Reader is much younger than Joel and is in love with him. One night, after arguing with Tess and getting drunk, Joel spends the night with a reader, but in the morning he breaks her heart… She runs away from Boston hoping that she will never meet this cold bastard again in her life. But almost six years later, she unexpectedly sees Joel in Jackson. She decides to hide herself and her little secret from this asshole.

Warnings: age gap (reader is about 28 years, Joel 58), strong language, swearing, past trauma, bullying, attempted rape, memories of sexual abuse, unprotect p in v, dom!Joel, Joel is asshole, ANGST, hurt, sadness and heartbreaking, sexual harassment, women abuse, violence, injury, sickness, misunderstanding, breakdown

I'm sorry you had to wait for this new chapter for so long. I hope I will write 11 much faster ;) Sorry, I tried 🥺

Part 11

You woke up and felt the cold take over your body. You wrinkled your nose. You were sure Joel had stoked the furnace before you went to bed, but you were too sleepy to worry about that now. You wanted to spend a few more minutes to sleep, so you snuggled into Joel's warm body, hugging his back. You heard him purr softly in contentment. Then you pressed your icy nose into the back of his neck and heard a hiss.

"Brat…" he croaked sleepily and you giggled.

"It's cold," you replied innocently.

You were about to ask him if he had actually put more wood into the furnace when your son ran into your bedroom happily shouting:

"Snow! Snow! There's snow everywhere! Lots of…"

Then you understood everything, it snowed overnight, and winter in Jackson had begun in earnest. You sighed with dissatisfaction and closed your eyes, burying your face in Joel's warm back. For your son, snow meant fun, and for you, it meant more work. You knew you'd have to go to the stables earlier to make sure there wasn't too much snow on the roof and that the horses were well secured.

Teddy jumped on your bed and started laughing happily. Joel pulled him to his chest and ruffled his hair.

"You say it's snowing, bear cub… Will you turn into a polar bear now?"

The little boy squealed happily.

"Yes… Shall we build a snowman, Daddy?"

Even though you weren't happy with the snow and cold, you couldn't help but smile widely. Joel and Teddy's interaction was always so sweet and adorable. And you knew Joel's chest would swell every time he heard the word "daddy."

"Sure! We'll build ten snowmen! But first… We'll eat breakfast and put you into something warm clothes."

Teddy was so happy he didn't even protest.

"I'll wake up Ellie and tell her it's snowing!"

Before you could react, the boy had already run to his adoptive, older sister. Joel chuckled to himself. He was sure that the teenage girl wouldn't be happy with this wake-up call, but at the same time, she would succumb to Teddy's charm and agree to build a snowman with him.

You sighed and hugged Joel even tighter, sliding your hands under his shirt. You felt his body react to your touches and heard his muffled growl. He grabbed your hands gently and moaned:

"Don't tease… Please…"

You felt remorse. You knew that sometimes your touch was unbearable for him. It wasn't that he didn't like the closeness. You just didn't realize sometimes how arousing your innocent caresses were. And at the same time, they were torture because they never led to anything more.

You removed your hands and sighed softly.

"Sorry."

Joel immediately turned to you. He pulled you to his chest and kissed your forehead. You could feel his bulge in his pants and it made you feel even worse.

"I'm sorry…" You said again, almost crying this time.

Joel immediately started caressing your face.

"Hey, hey… We talked about it. Don't apologize. I'm a big boy and… I can handle it."

You sighed and nodded. You didn't want to know the details of how Joel dealt with it. Although you had some idea.

"It's just that sometimes… I wish it were different…" you said with obvious disappointment in your voice.

Joel looked at you gently and kissed your nose.

"But it is what it is, and I love you no matter what."

His words filled you with warmth and you couldn't help but smile a little. You wanted that moment to last forever. The two of you in a warm bed, in your own little bubble of comfort.

"Joel! Your son is hungry and it is your responsibility to feed him and me!"

You both laughed as you heard Ellie scream from the hall. Joel rolled his eyes and you sighed. The peace is over. You groaned and got out of the warm blanket.

"I have to go to the stables early."

Joel nodded and handed you your warm sweater while he started putting on his jeans.

"I'll take care of everything. I don't start patrol until the evening."

You felt a slight twinge in your heart. You didn't like it when Joel had evening patrols. This meant he would come back late at night and you would have to fall asleep without his warmth. This day couldn't get any worse… . After three hours of work at the stables, you decided to go home for lunch and check how your boys were doing. But the closer you got to home, the faster your heart started beating and your brain began to go crazy. Joel stood and watched Teddy play with Rose, and next to him stood Emily, Tess's doppelgänger. You felt how your body instantly heated up and felt dizzy. And Joel seemed so… Happy?

The closer you got, the slower you walked, as if your feet were sinking into the ground. Your son saw you first. He smiled widely and waved at you.

"Hello, Mommy!"

Joel and Emily immediately turned around and you forced a smile and waved back to your little boy. Your baby boy didn't deserve your sour face. However, you couldn't be so relaxed when you stood in front of THIS woman. You murmured a greeting and really tried your hardest not to explode. It was so baseless, but… Emily was taller than you, more graceful, and… That damn face of young Tess.

"Are you having fun?"

Joel raised his eyebrows as if he didn't fully understand your question, so you added:

"With kids…"

Emily didn't seem to sense your baseless hatred because she smiled broadly and said,

"Oh yes, the kids are so happy and Joel builds great snowmen."

You wanted to imitate her: Oh, Joel builds great snowmen… But you bit your tongue.

"He was a builder after all."

God, You felt like the situation was getting more and more awkward by the second. You couldn't have given a better answer. Joel decided to save you because he chuckled softly and wrapped his arm around you.

"Finally, my skills from my previous life are useful for something."

You felt a little better when Joel showed you affection in front of 'Tess', but her next words ruined everything.

"Do you work in the stable?"

"Huh?"

"You have straw on your clothes."

You felt your blood boil. You wanted to strangle her. Maybe her words weren't meant to be malicious.

"Yes…" You muttered, then quickly added. "I just came for a short break. I'll eat something and go back to the horses. Have fun."

You walked away from them and had a hard time keeping yourself from slamming the door.

"You have straw on your clothes…" You said mockingly as you entered the kitchen.

Who was she to tell you that? At least your dirty clothes were proof that you worked, and what was she doing besides praising Joel's snowman-building skills?

"Ugh!"

You threw your jacket on the chair and opened the fridge, even though you had actually lost your appetite. You were about to stand in front of the living room window to watch Joel and Emily when he came back. He immediately gave you a worried look. He took off his jacket, hung it on the door, and walked over to you.

"It's okay, you seem kind of… Annoyed."

You nodded quickly and tried to swallow the bitterness you felt in your throat.

"Where's Teddy?"

"He went with Rose for a while… I'll pick him up in half an hour."

You couldn't help but groan in frustration, and with Joel's questioning look you replied:

"I don't like her. I mean, Emily… Not, Rose."

Joel seemed surprised by your answer.

"Why?"

"She said my clothes were dirty."

He couldn't help but giggle softly, but seeing your glare, he stepped closer and wrapped his arms around your waist.

"Babe, I think you misunderstood her. Emily is new here and she's curious. She noticed the straw, so… She wanted to confirm her suspicions."

You huffed, still feeling frustrated. Joel began to rock your hips, something he had learned to do when you were pouting. And you had to admit it always worked. Then he kissed your forehead and said in a calm, tender voice:

"I think you're tired. What if we do this? After I pick up Teddy, I'll go with him to the stables and help you with your work…"

You leaned against his strong chest and inhaled his scent. His offer was so tempting. Not to mention you'd be keeping an eye on him then.

"But you have your own duties… And patrol…"

Joel smiled to himself. He knew he already had you.

"It's okay. I can handle everything."

Of course, you felt a little guilty, but the feeling of happiness and contentment prevailed. . But nothing changed the fact that you felt uneasy every time you saw Emily close to Joel. It was like an icy spike was sticking into your stomach. You were afraid. Sometimes you tried to think logically. Joel loved you and did a lot to be with you again. You wanted to believe that he wouldn't break your heart again. But sometimes your obsession won.

And it wasn't like you didn't have the basics. Teddy really liked Rose, so your neighbor had plenty of opportunities to smile at Joel. In addition, Emily and Joel became patrol partners. When you found out about it, you thought you were going crazy, and you even tried to convince Joel that it shouldn't be like this.

"I can go on patrols with you," you said one night as you were going to bed.

"What?" Joel gasped.

"I thought I could go on patrols with you… I've had less work with horses lately and…"

"NO!" Joel interrupted you harshly, and upon seeing your hurt expression, he immediately grabbed your hands. "Honey… What about Teddy? If we're both on patrol, he'll must be under someone's care… Besides… If something happened to you…"

You huffed and rolled your eyes.

"Something can happen to anyone. Emily also has a small child and she goes on patrol."

Joel sighed heavily.

"But Rose, she's not my baby… And although I wouldn't want Rose to lose her mother, my worry for Emily is incomparable to what I would feel if I had you next to me."

You felt like you had already lost. You were obsessed with 'Tess' and he had valid arguments, but you kept going anyway.

"It wouldn't be so bad… I can handle it… I've been coping on my own for so many years."

Joel looked at you with a small smile. He brushed the hair away from your forehead.

"Honey, don't be offended, but last week you were screaming because you found a dead rat in the basement."

You pouted and looked offended. It wasn't fair.

"It surprised me!"

Joel couldn't help but chuckle.

"A dead rat? How could it surprise you if it wasn't moving? Did it speak to you from the afterlife?"

You crossed your arms over your chest and stuck your tongue out at him.

"And yet it surprised me."

Joel shook his head, placed his hands on your hips, and started rocking them. God! You hated him for it. On top of that, his voice became so soft that it wrapped around you like a warm blanket.

"Will you tell me what's really going on? Because I can't believe you suddenly want to freeze your ass off on patrol."

He hit the spot. But you couldn't tell him the truth, certainly not the whole truth.

"I… I just wish I could spend more time with you."

Joel cooed and pulled you to his chest. Then he kissed your head.

"Hey, you know, I'll talk to Tommy. In the spring, I can help build and repair houses. Then I'd be closer and I'd always be home before sunset. What do you think?"

You couldn't deny that you felt a surge of peace. His words and gestures made your anxiety melt away for a moment. You smiled and nodded.

"Sounds good."

Joel hugged you even tighter as if to assure you of his love.

"Then hold on for two more months." . Hold on… Don't go crazy. It was easier said than done. You didn't know if you were oversensitive or if Joel and Emily had really gotten closer… Standing by the window in the living room suddenly became your new passion. Whenever Joel went out on patrol, or simply left the house, you immediately stood by the window and watched to see if he had met Emily. You watched closely how they greeted each other. How far apart were they? What Emily looked like. Is she more, or less like Tess, today?

It became your obsession. You didn't even try to get to know Emily better. You immediately attributed all of Tess's traits to her: conceited, mean, resentful of you, and possessive of Joel. You felt like you moved to Boston.

"Y/N."

You jumped when you heard Ellie's voice. You almost forgot that the teenage girl was still at home.

"Hmm?"

"You're standing at the window again… It's about Emily."

You sighed heavily and nodded. Then you looked at the couch where the teenager's sweatshirt lay, the sweatshirt you were supposed to fix. You gave Ellie an apologetic look.

"I know what you're going to say, that I'm obsessed… And I guess you're right. I'm about to take care of the hole in your sweatshirt."

Ellie bit her lip and looked at you with a look you knew well. Something was bothering her.

"It's not about the sweatshirt, is it?"

The girl shook her head.

"The thing is… I don't want to say something that might ruin everything ."

You walked closer to her and looked at her carefully.

"Ellie, you better tell me. If you think something is wrong, then… It's better to face the truth because it can only get worse."

The teen nodded and you were honestly expecting some sort of teenage problem, but her next words shook you.

"I thought you were obsessed with this Emily because she looks like Tess… But yesterday… Yesterday I saw Joel and her walk into the bar and I heard her say, 'I can't believe I agreed to this date, it's crazy'…" Seeing the look on your face, she quickly added. "But maybe… I guess it's nothing, you know… Y/N… I don't want you to fight with Joel, but… I thought I should tell you…"

You took a deep breath and nodded. You didn't want to fall apart right in front of her. You didn't want her to feel worse. You understood her. She was like a child who wanted to remain loyal to each of her parents, but at the same time had to choose a side.

"It's good that you told me… I'll talk to Joel… Take it easy. I'll find out what it was about…"

Ellie didn't seem entirely convinced, but she nodded and you smiled softly at her.

"Don't worry…"

"Can I do something?" she asked.

"If you could pick up Teddy from the common room and leave him with Claudia before going to Dina…"

Ellie nodded and you breathed a sigh of relief. You didn't want any of the children to witness your confrontation with Joel. . When you were left alone, you began to pace anxiously around the house. You knew there were about two hours, until Joel returned and that in those two hours you would go crazy with all your thoughts.

First, you tried to control yourself and rationalize everything. You had a plan that when Joel showed up, you would just ask him about the situation and that would be it. But with each passing minute, your anxiety began to deepen and all sorts of thoughts filled your head.

You even got to the point where you started blaming yourself. It was finally clear what Joel was missing. It wasn't a secret.

And the truth was, part of you wanted to have sex with Joel. You wanted to get him into bed. Explore his body, feel him inside you, but… You were afraid that sex would awaken the old animal in him. Sometimes You looked at him from the side. You saw how gentle he was with Teddy and Ellie. You felt how gentle he was with you. But what if it all disappeared the moment he saw you naked and defenseless? When he feels he has power again. What if he decides you're not good enough and abandons you in the morning like he used to? You knew it was impossible. He wouldn't do it for his son's sake. And yet these thoughts haunted you. It was easier with Steve. He was a blank page, and the first time you had sex with him, he gave you full power. He knelt in front of you and begged for permission to touch you. Steve just liked it, being obedient. He didn't even cum without your consent. You didn't know if it was just his fetish and he was like that with all women. Or was he just doing it for you? But it worked. Steve was the only man after Joel you had sex with. Of course, you tried dating others a few times, but it ended the moment they touched you. It just seemed like Steve was the exception.

And now you had Joel again, and Joel was a man and he had needs. Your mind started going crazy. Maybe he didn't even like Emily, but she was willing to give him what you couldn't? Maybe he made some sort of deal with her… Something like: friends with benefits. You even started to have absurd thoughts that maybe you should let Joel do this. Before you knew it, you were so absorbed in your own misery that you were curled up on your bed, crying. Suddenly you felt the bed sag under the weight and someone's large, warm hand landed on your side.

"Y/N… Baby, what's wrong?"

Joel's voice was clearly concerned, close to panic. You turned around abruptly and simply blurted out:

"It's about sex?! Right?! You don't feel anything for her, but you can fuck her!"

Your voice cracked and Joel looked like someone had thrown him into ice water. He wanted to shout: 'What the hell?!' But he knew better that he must stay completely calm. He had no idea what had happened to you, but you were clearly in a bad emotional state and having a breakdown. He took a deep breath and replied:

"Baby, I have no idea who you're talking about. Who would I be having sex with?"

"With Emily!" You growled.

Joel moved away from you as if you had hit him. Of course, you were in such a state that you considered his reaction as confirmation of your theory.

"So I'm right!"

Joel couldn't stand it anymore and his scream was like thunder.

"NO!"

You started to tremble and he felt remorse, but at least he had a moment to speak to you.

"No, honey…" His voice was calm again. "You're absolutely wrong. I don't know what happened or what made you think that, but I only love you."

Joel tried to pull you into a hug, but you pulled away from him and sobbed.

"So what… that you love me… But… But you can't have sex with me, so you found someone else to do it… It doesn't take love for that…"

Joel couldn't stand your tears and despite your protests, he pulled you closer to him and wiped away the tears with his thumbs.

"Y/N we talked about it and my mind hasn't changed… I understand you and I respect your decision. And I want to be with you for the rest of my life, even if it means no sex. And I will have sex either with you or with nobody."

His hands rubbed soothing circles on your back and you took a shaky breath. You were still in despair, but you wanted to believe his words.

"And Emily?"

Joel raised his eyebrows and looked surprised.

"What about her? I don't have any intimate relationship with her if that's what you're asking."

"But… Apparently, you went to a bar with her, and she… And she said something about going on a date…"

Joel chuckled softly and grunted.

"Okay. I won't ask who your spy was, but… Yes, it's true. I went to a bar with Emily and talked to her about a date… In fact, I even asked her out on a date, but not with me… with Claudia…"

"What?!"

These revelations were so shocking to you that you couldn't find the words.

"But… but… Claudia… Emily…"

Joel gave you a funny look.

"You don't mean to tell me you didn't know your best friend was a lesbian."

You rolled your eyes. Of course, you always knew that.

"I mean Emily… She has a baby and… She got along with you so well and…"

You felt completely lost. On one hand, a wave of relief washed over you that everything was just your imagination. On the other hand, you felt ashamed that you fell apart and let your emotions get the better of you.

But Joel, as usual, tried to be understanding. He smiled as he saw that the crisis was over. He kissed you on the cheek and replied:

"You know very well that a child doesn't always have to be the result of love… I don't know who Rose's father is and I don't want to push Emily… And yes, we get along, but I don't feel anything for her and when she told me that she likes Claudia, but she's very ashamed and afraid that nothing will come out of it, I wanted to help her."

Finally, all your anxiety left you. Joel simply had a good heart, even though he sometimes hid it behind grumpiness and whining.

"Sorry."

He shook his head and waved his hand.

"I'm glad we cleared it up. And tomorrow you'll be able to talk to Claudia about it, because today, after two weeks of my efforts, is their first date."

When you heard this, your eyes widened.

"Oops…"

"What?"

You immediately got out of bed and started dressing. Joel watched you in shock, wondering if he had done something wrong.

"I told Ellie to drop Teddy to Claudia."

Joel immediately jumped off the bed and grabbed your hand.

"Come on, before you ruin my entire elaborate plan!" He groaned miserably and you couldn't help but laugh.

"Aren't you getting into the role of Cupid too much?"

He made another grumpy noise and you smiled widely. This was your Joel. And only yours. .

Taglist: @casa-boiardi @noisynightmarepoetry @ihavetwoholesforareason @sloanexx @creedslove @orcasoul @o-sacra-virgo-laudes-tibi @i-workwithpens @milla-frenchy @liatome @jojo-munson @pascalislove @goldenhxurs @elliaze @aestheticangel612 @cheyxfu @prestinalove @stevengmybeloved @faith-alons26 @harriedandharassed @this--is--music @joeldjarin @elliaze @ajeff855 @anislabonis-love @quality-lust @sarahhxx03 @sofiparallel @misshoneypaper @simplyreading96 @ilovetaquitosmmmm @softstarlite @missladym1981 @heartpascalispunk

Part 10

Part 12

Ok, so I hope it's not that bad after not writing this story for so long. I know Emily turned out to be quite a twist plot. But I couldn't make Joel an asshole again.

Now an important announcement. So far this story has been devoid of any strong NSFW elements, apart from the beginning. So now I would like you to take the survey and decide. Should there be a description of the sex scene in the next chapter, or would you prefer it to be an addition to a chapter that you don't have to read?

#pedro pascal #pedro pascal characters #pedro pascal fanfiction #joel miller #the last of us #joel miller fanfiction #joel x reader #joel and you #joel miller fic #tlou fic #joel and ellie #joel is daddy #angst #hurt/comfort #love story #unforgivable mistake

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bratzforchris · 5 months

Text

You Are In Love

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Summary: You and Luke have been through so many ups and downs and life adventures together, that he decides it's finally time to show you how much he loves you. Part 3 to the sugar daddy!Luke series (but can be read as a standalone!).

Pairing: Sugar daddy!Luke x feminine reader

Warnings: age gap relationship (college student x older male), sugar daddy/baby and dom/sub dynamics, unprotected p in v, oral (m receiving), marking, dirty talk, hooking up, fingering, overstimulation, fluffy ending (i think that's all but lmk if i missed something in the comments!)

Word Count: 7.5k

A/N: hi besties! i'm officially done with this semester of college so i finally had some time to write and finish up this story that i've been working on all month :) i hope you all love it! happy holidays you guys<3

(p.s. this is based off of "You Are In Love" by taylor swift<3)

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“Luke!” You squealed, writhing under him as he tickled you. “Stop!” You gasped for air, giggling beyond belief.

“Or what?” he asked.

“Or we have to get up and go get those matching Burberry coats I sent you last week.” You smirked, looking up at him with soft doe eyes.

The blond hummed, kissing your neck softly. “We can do that anyway, baby girl.”

“Luke,” You whined again. “I was kidding. I don’t need them.”

“Ah ah,” he tutted, running his pointer finger along your chin as he laid down beside you. “No pouting, honey. That’s the point of having a sugar daddy, is it not?” he asked.

You blushed, hiding your face in his hairy chest. “Mhm. I think we should keep having snuggle time first, though.”

“If you insist.” Luke yawned, kissing your forehead and pulling your naked body closer to his own on the silk sheets.

You two had just finished a rather spicy scene and now you were simply content to lay in bed and cuddle on the chilly, Saturday afternoon. Luke had a way like that. You could just lay in silence with him for hours and not get bored. You laid your head on his strong chest as he pulled out his phone, scrolling through his work emails before migrating to Instagram. The blond’s whole aura was so calming, that even the most mundane things he had to do mesmerized you.

You watched as a smile grew on Luke’s face. “What?” You asked.

“Remember this?” he asked you, tilting the phone so you could see the post.

It was an Instagram memory from a year and a half ago. It was of you and Luke at one of Columbia’s charity balls, dressed in black tie. That night was still one of your favorite memories. Since then, you two had grown so much, both as individuals and together. You would be receiving your undergrad degree in May from Columbia and Luke was on top of the world with the current stock market. Your relationship had grown as well, moving away from the sugar daddy/baby dynamic. Your relationship was no longer transactional, and Luke absolutely loved to show you off to the world. He still spoiled you beyond belief, both with material things and with a freakishly active sex life, especially now that you were living in his humongous penthouse apartment with him. Despite all this, you began to let your mind wander as you laid on Luke’s chest, thinking back to that night last May.

One look, dark room, meant just for you. You gazed across the ballroom of The Plaza Hotel, watching the tall blond. His curls cascaded against his face in an almost princelike way, but you couldn’t deny that he was looking at you. You sipped your ginger ale that had been poured in a champagne flute, hoping the dimness of the room would hide your blush. Time moved too fast, and before you knew it, he was standing next to you.

“Hey,” he hummed in a luxuriously deep voice. “Having fun?”

“Mhm!” You nodded, trying your best to appear that you were, especially since you didn’t know exactly who he was.

“You’re better than me,” he chuckled, downing the last of his cocktail. “I hated these things when I was here.”

“Oh?” You asked, your interest piqued.

“Luke Hemmings,” he nodded, holding his hand out for you to shake. “Columbia grad.”

“Oh,” You bit your lip, trying to hide your shock. “I know you, I think.”

“Most people do, sweetheart.” he chuckled.

“You’re big on Wall Street, right?”

Luke nodded brushing closer to you. The blond was clearly happy that you knew who he was, and it was evident as he pressed himself closer to you, brushing the buttons of his coat against your emerald green, silken gown. “Not nearly the biggest.” he laughed lightheartedly.

The sound made you swell up with happiness. Luke’s laugh was unusual for a body like his, but it suited him so well. It was warm and sunshiney, just like his smile and the golden curls that engulfed him in his own personal halo.

“So, do you have a name? Or are you just the mysterious pretty girl?” he chuckled.

The feeling that this beautiful (not to mention wealthy) man wanted to know who you were made the butterflies in your stomach take flight. You gazed up at him, studying his stubble and his beautiful, full lashes, before you trailed your eyes down to his plump, pink lips. You knew he was older; you were still only a sophomore at the university, after all, but despite not having any proof, you had seen enough to know that Luke was looking for more than just a conversation.

“I’m Y/N Y/L/N,” You smiled softly, brushing back against him. “You’re really nice.”

Luke chuckled, wrapping an arm around you. Instead of shrinking back like you would if any other man did that, you melted into the blond’s touch, noting how warm and soft he was. He stayed silent for a moment, before gazing down at you. “So, would you wanna get out of here?” he asked.

“With a man I just met?” You joked.

“It’s just a question. Up to you.” he whispered huskily into your ear.

You nodded, a sudden streak of boldness running through you. “Y’know what? Why not?”

Luke smiled, grabbing your hand and leading you through the crowd as you dodged some of your professors, university faculty, waiters, and esteemed party goers in general. Once you made it out into the main hallway of the hotel, you breathed a sigh of relief. The lobby was nearly empty, which wasn’t surprising, seeing as it was almost midnight. The plush carpet sank under your feet as you and Luke walked up to the valet desk. The staff didn’t even need a name, they simply hurried off to retrieve the blond’s car.

“Are you cold?” he asked, holding your hand as you walked down the grand marble steps to the sidewalks of New York City.

“A little bit…” You admitted sheepishly, a blush dotting your cheeks for probably the fiftieth time that evening.

Luke smiled softly, pulling off his suit jacket and wrapping it around your shoulders. “Better?”

You nodded softly, breathing in the scent of his expensive cologne. “Thank you, Luke.”

As you spoke, a sleek black car pulled up to the curb and the driver hopped out, opening the doors for you and Luke. You didn’t miss the Bentley logo on the hood as you carefully stepped in, noting the fine Italian leather. Luke stepped into the driver’s seat beside you, immediately revving the car up and pulling out into the never-ending traffic of the city.

“What did you have in mind?” You asked your newfound partner.

“Whatever you like,” Luke smirked. “But there is a beautiful French coffee shop near here that’s open all night?”

“Sounds perfect.” You said graciously, smiling at him from the passenger side.

“So,” the blond started, making small talk. “What’s your major?”

You smiled over at him. Luke’s eyes were genuine as he pulled into a parking deck near the cafe. Before you could even answer, he was parking and helping you out of the car. He was such a gentleman, it almost made you wonder why he was talking to you instead of any other girl. You held onto the blond’s arm as he helped you out, smiling up at him.

“Journalism,” You said happily, always willing to talk about your major and passions. “I wanna be a music journalist.”

Luke smiled, holding your hand as you walked down the levels to the street. “I’ve always loved music. When I’m not working, that is. Wall Street doesn’t give a ton of time for much else…unless it’s something I really want.”

As you two walked into the cafe, you couldn’t help but to notice the chain of your necklace, reflecting in the lights of the city that never slept. Luke opened the door for you and led you into the establishment, easily ordering you both a coffee. You sat down at the table in the corner while you waited, trying not to let how giddy you were with nerves show.

“Do you have a certain time you need to be back by?” Luke asked you, checking his golden Rolex as the waitress placed a fancy coffee in front of you both.

You shrugged, looking him up and down with a flirty look. “Not unless you’re ready to be rid of me.” You hummed, twirling a strand of your hair.

Most people probably wouldn’t believe you unless they were your best friends, but despite your studious personality, you loved to flirt. Besides, who wouldn’t want to see what a billionaire CEO who was not lacking in looks had in mind? You could see it in Luke’s blue eyes that he was having similar thoughts as he searched your own. You smirked at his reaction, biting your lap as he placed one of his large, ring-clad hands on your knee.

“Finish your drink then we can get out of here.” he said, almost like a command.

You hurriedly did as he said, enjoying the rich, French coffee that warmed you from the inside out. You could practically see Luke’s eyes clouding over with want for you, and you longed to see what his chest looked like free from the white button-down he was sporting. As soon as you had finished your last sip, he was pulling you up and out of the shop, smiling fondly at you as you wandered back to his car.

“There are some…rules we need to follow if we’re gonna go further.�� Luke hummed as you both got in the car.

“I understand,” You said sweetly, looking at him. “Go on.”

“I’m not looking for anything serious right now. I just want to make that clear. I want someone I can fuck and spoil without having to worry about…everything else,” the blond said, looking at you honestly. “Kinda like a sugar baby.” a smirk grew on his face.

“Oh,” You said, flushing red. “That’s okay with me.” Your voice was sultry as you spoke.

You knew Luke. You had done research on the top investment bankers on Wall Street for one of your classes and lo and behold there he was, number one at just twenty-six years old. It wasn’t even the money that was that enticing, though. It was just Luke as a person. Ever since you had seen him on your laptop screen, you had been in awe of him. He was absolutely beautiful, in a way that made him seem unreal; almost like he belonged with the gods instead of on Earth. The fact that someone like that wanted to be around you, sexually or not, was gratifying.

“Second of all, you’re going to have to sign an NDA, sweetheart. No one else can know you hang around me, nor can they know where any gifts you get come from. Deal?” Luke asked, a hungry expression in his blue eyes.

“Deal.” You nodded firmly.

The blond snaked his large hand around the nape of your neck, pulling you across the console of the car as he began to kiss you. His tongue was soft and warm and tasted like a mix of coffee and the bourbon he must’ve consumed earlier in the evening. You kissed Luke back just as fervently, moving your hands to tangle in his honey-blond curls. It didn’t matter that this man was a billionaire you had just met. He tasted like both heaven and sin, as if he could save you, and make you do awful things. The scent of Hugo Boss Bottled was absolutely intoxicating on this man, making you want to bury your nose in his chest and stay there forever.

“So, would you like to take this back to mine?” Luke asked softly, but with lust clouding his voice.

You nodded quickly, and Luke planted one last kiss on your already swollen lips, starting the car. He quickly pulled out into the streets, zipping in between cars as he sped towards southern Central Park. You almost didn’t believe where he was going until the supertall, luxury high rises made of glass and steel came into view. You didn’t know why you had wondered where Luke lived; of course he lived on Billionaire’s Row with all the other businessmen and mega-celebrities.

“It’s nice, isn’t it?” Luke asked as he pulled up to the valet in the parking garage of his building.

“It’s amazing,” You muttered, craning your head back as you observed the night sky that was aglow with the lights from all of the buildings. “It’s like something out of a movie.”

“Just wait until you see my penthouse.” Luke snuck the word that just affirmed his wealth into the sentence, kissing your cheek and placing a sneaky hand on your ass as he handed his keys to the valet.

You leaned into his touch, looking up at him as he grinned down at you. Taking your hand, Luke led you to a slightly discreet elevator, smiling softly. “Up to mine.”

“You have your own elevator?” You didn’t know why you sounded so shocked.

Luke chuckled. “Yes, sweetheart. I have my own elevator.”

Your cheeks flushed with embarrassment as he led you into the fine, marble elevator. With the walls being made of glass, you could practically see the whole of New York City underneath you as you rose higher and higher. Luke’s hand hadn’t left your ass the whole time, and your heart raced at the thought of what the night held. Finally, you docked and the doors opened, allowing the blond to lead you into his penthouse apartment.

“It’s beautiful.” You mumbled, breathlessly as you surveyed the humongous living room.

“Sit down,” Luke nodded to the large L-shaped couch. “I’ll be right back.”

You carefully sat down on the white, plush couch tentatively, afraid of staining it or ruining it somehow because you were sure this couch cost more than you spent in three months. Your eyes darted around the apartment, noticing how everything was absolutely spotless and all white. It was a very neat apartment for a young bachelor, but then again, Luke probably had a maid. The blond returned shortly after, having ditched his suit jacket and brandishing papers and a bottle of Cabernet.

“Would you like some?” he asked, reaching for wine glasses that were sitting on a crystal tray on the coffee table.

“No thank you.” You blushed.

Nevermind that you were only twenty. You were just terrified of spilling red wine on his white carpet and couch, not to mention your silk dress. Luke didn’t seem to mind, though. He just poured himself a glass and then pushed the papers and a fine, wooden pen towards you. His blue eyes held an almost soft honesty as he spoke to you, his curls that had been gelled back for the night falling loose.

“This is an NDA. It has nothing to do with you. It’s just for my safety, and so the magazines don’t come after me or you. Understand?” he asked.

You nodded, kissing his cheek that was much softer than you had expected. “I know what an NDA is, silly.”

Luke blushed, and you saw a hint of who he was out of the public eye. “I’m really sorry if this is awkward. I just…I think I come off more confident than I really am.”

“I understand,” You said honestly. “For what it’s worth, you’ve been so kind to me this evening.”

The blond gave you a crooked smile, pushing the papers. “Sign and then we can do something else.” he winked.

You quickly signed the papers without a second thought and then turned to Luke. “What else were you thinking of?”

Luke grabbed you by the hips, pulling you across the couch and into his lap. Hoisting your emerald dress up your legs, you straddled him, looking down into his crystal eyes. Luke held both of his hands across your ass, pulling you closer to him as he began to softly suckle on your neck. You practically moaned at the feeling, bracing yourself against his broad shoulders.

“Is that okay?” the blond asked, pulling back to look at you.

“It’s better than okay.” You smiled, pecking his lips.

Luke ran the hickeys down from behind your ear, across your collarbone, and then to your breasts. Unconsciously, you began to grind into his lap, feeling the blond’s bulge underneath you. He began to slowly bounce you on his leg, soft, erotic moans leaving his mouth as he unzipped the back of your dress. You whined at the feeling of your already-dampening panties at the way Luke ran his hands along your body and the noises that fell from his lips.

“God, Y/N. You’re so fuckin’ hot,” he whispered huskily. “Wanna take you to my bed and fuck you until your little cunt can’t cum anymore.”

You whimpered at his dirty talk, pushing yourself into him. “Luke, please.”

He easily stood up, despite holding you, and carried you deeper inside the apartment. His bedroom was just as luxurious as the rest of the house, and the blond softly placed you on his California king bed, smiling softly at the way your silk dress fanned out on the sheets. You blushed under his gaze, well aware of the heat flaming your cheeks. Luke placed another kiss to your lips, undoing his tie.

“So goddamn beautiful.”

You couldn’t help the little giggle that escaped you as Luke showered you with praises. He smirked softly at how cute you were, slipping his thumbs under the straps of your dress. You pushed yourself up to meet his hands, moaning softly as you arched your back.

“May I?” he asked.

You nodded, wrapping your arms around his back as he slid the dress off of you, smirking at your bare boobs and white thong. Luke bent, leaving a kiss on your wet underwear as he slowly pulled off your golden, strappy heels. After he tossed the shoes across the room, Luke began to unbutton his own white, dress shirt, giving what you had wanted all evening. You were practically salivating as Luke rid himself of his shirt, leaving you to revel in the glory of his chest.

He had the perfect mix of lean and slightly squishy on his body. His hairy chest mingled with the silver chain around his neck, which trailed down to his milky tummy, and then to the happy trail that snaked its way into his waistband.

“Do you like what you see?” the blond asked you with a chuckle.

You nodded eagerly as he climbed into bed with you in his gray, Calvin Klein boxers. “I can see why you were GQ’s Man of the Year.” You said breathlessly, still in awe of him.

“Oh, so you’ve been looking at me before, baby?” a smirk dawned the blond’s lips as he climbed on top of you, flicking his tongue across your breasts.

You whimpered at the feeling of him across your sensitive skin, running your nails along his back. “Show me I won’t be disappointed.” You told him.

Luke began to softly suckle on your tits, leaving more hickeys as he trailed down from your chest to your stomach, then to the waist of your underwear. “May I?” he asked, snapping the white elastic.

You nodded quickly, bucking your hips up to meet the boner that was growing in his boxers. “Please. Just fuck me. That’s what you wanted, right?” You asked, fluttering your lashes.

Luke smiled, kissing your cheek softly. “You’re a fast learner, baby girl. You sure you’ve never been a fuck doll before?” the blond hooked his thumbs around your panties, slowly and teasingly smiling as he pulled them down your hips.

You didn’t have time to respond, because Luke began to slowly rub his thumb over your clit, to which you let out a gasp. He began to speed up the rhythm, smirking as he felt your legs clench around him. You moved your hands from his back upwards, tangling them in his strawberry blond curls. Luke began to use his other hand to slowly slide in and out of you, his fingers gliding easily because of how wet you were.

“Luke,” You moaned out, bucking your hips up closer to him. “Gonna cum soon.”

That just made the blond tease you more, glee in his blue eyes as he continued to pleasure your entire pussy. Tears were coming to your face as you held back, that white-hot feeling building up in your lower stomach. To stimulate you more, Luke began to rub his clothed dick against you slightly, enjoying the moans that fell from your lips at the friction. You were both panting and moaning until finally, Luke kissed your pubic bone.

“Go ahead, baby,” he hummed. “Cum all over my fingers.”

You didn’t need to be told twice to do what Luke asked. You immediately clenched around his graceful fingers, whimpering as you came. Collapsing back onto the pillows, you just caught Luke sucking his fingers off, looking so sinfully beautiful.

“You taste so fuckin’ good, Y/N,” Luke moaned, beginning to stroke his cock through his underwear. “Think you’re capable of another round?”

You nodded quickly, looking up at him. “Let me.” You said, placing your hand over his own.

“Well, if you insist.” Luke smirked, practically ripping off his underwear.

His dick stood tall now, throbbing as it practically begged for you to touch it. You got on your knees, looking up at the blond with a smile as you ran your tongue across his tip. You knew he would be too big to take all of him, so you slowly began to take his cock into your mouth, bobbing your head back and forth while pumping his base when you hit the back of your throat. Luke threw his head back with a moan, pushing his hips towards you.

“Feels so good, Y/N. Oh my god…” he panted as you sucked him off.

Luke began to grip your hair as you bobbed your head up and down. He could feel his dick twitching in your mouth, begging for him to claim you and cum all down your throat. The blue-eyed man gripped your hair, pulling you closer to him. Without warning, he released thick, white ropes of cum shooting down your throat. Luke pulled off so you could breathe easier, but he didn’t miss the slutty smirk that was decorating your face.

“You like that?” he asked.

You nodded eagerly, wiping your mouth with the back of your hand. “Yummy.” You giggled.

Luke kissed your forehead, caressing your naked body. “You are so, so perfect. Think you can hold up for one more? I need to be inside of you.” he said, beginning to passionately kiss you.

You moaned against his warm, plump lips as Luke massaged your breasts while kissing you. Before you knew it, you had moved to straddle his lap, moving your hips in teasingly slow circles. Luke grunted, moving to grab your ass.

“Gonna act like a slut, gonna get treated like one.” he hummed, thrusting his dick inside your folds.

You moaned at the feeling of suddenly being so full, bouncing on his lap to adjust. “Oh my god…” You breathed out. “So big.”

Luke smirked at that, his ego being fueled. He pinned you down to the bed, beginning to ride you. His thrusts were fast and sloppy, but they were oh-so-powerful. You could hear that sound of his headboard hitting the wall as he railed you, and you were silently thankful that Luke had the whole floor to himself. Your silence didn’t last long though, for Luke hit your G-spot, making you cry out.

“Gonna cum.” You whimpered, tears pricking your eyes as you tried to withstand the overstimulation.

“You can do it, baby girl,” the blond coached you. “Hang on longer, princess.”

You wrapped your legs around Luke’s hips as he continued to pound into you. Your second orgasm was always much faster than your first, and right now was no exception. You sobbed at the feeling of needing to cum so badly, but despite how your emotions appeared, you were really loving this. You gripped the silken sheets in your hands as you writhed under him, until Luke finally kissed your tear-stained, sweaty cheek.

“Show me how good you can cum on my cock, baby.” Luke growled in your ear.

You immediately clenched around Luke’s dick, letting go. It was the best orgasm you had ever had, and you knew Luke could tell by the way he was smirking at you. You were still panting and riding out your high when the blond’s dick twitched inside of you and he quickly pulled out, cumming on your thighs.

“Uh uh…” You panted, staring up at him completely fucked out. “Good pull out game.” You chuckled when you caught your breath.

Luke smiled, kissing your cheek. “What else would you take me for, baby girl?” he hummed.

He pulled a pack of wet wipes from his nightstand, wiping both you and himself down before he gave you another heated kiss on the lips. The blond patted your ass softly, in an almost shooing motion. “Get on out of here and get some rest,” Luke cooed. “Call me tomorrow. There should be something waiting for you on the kitchen counter.”

You hurriedly pulled on your silky dress. Your heart dropped a bit as you watched Luke toy around on his phone, that is, until he looked up at you through his lashes, telling you he ordered you a private car to take you back to your residence hall. The blond gave you one last kiss as you left the room, reminding you to check the counter. As you wandered into the kitchen, you saw a rather stuffed envelope with your name on it laying on the marble countertops.

Your jaw dropped as you opened the package to reveal an enormous stack of cash. You quickly began to count it, speaking softly to yourself. There was over a thousand dollars in that one envelope. You shot Luke a quick thank you text, hurrying out of his home and down to the idling car for you, a smile gracing your face at the thought of your newly found sugar daddy.

“Whatcha thinking about?” Luke asked, tapping your nose.

“Sorry,” You blushed, realizing how long you’d been zoned out for. “Just thinking about you, I guess.”

“Oh?” he asked, cocking his brow.

“Just how much I love you.” You smiled, snuggling closer to his chest.

“I love you,” Luke hummed, pulling you closer to him. “That night changed my life for the better.”

You smiled when you saw the softer side of Luke’s personality peeking out. You knew that below his stock market aficionado personality, Luke was still a soft, sweet little boy. You had discussed the things from his childhood before, which is why Luke had had a rather hard time staying in long-term relationships. That is, until he met you. The same effect Luke on you, you had on him. He felt that spoiling you and loving you gave him a purpose outside of work. You loved him for more than his job, status, or wealth. When you two were together, he was just Luke, and you were just Y/N.

“I changed my mind,” You hummed as you cuddled up with Luke. “I don’t want to go get those coats now. I’d rather stay in and watch a movie.”

“Are you sure?” Luke asked, always looking for a way to spoil you.

“I’m sure,” You nodded. “You know I’ll never turn down naked cuddles.” You winked.

The blond chuckled, kissing your forehead. “Whatever princess wants, princess gets. Just don’t forget, we have dinner reservations tonight.”

You smiled, hugging him. “We should watch a movie.”

“Would you like to?” he asked, running a hand through his hair.

You nodded, sitting up and wrapping your pink, silk robe around yourself. You tugged Luke’s hand so that he would get up and do the same. Your boyfriend pulled on a pair of loose, gray sweatpants that hung low on his hips, allowing your eyes to trail from his happy trail up to his broad chest. You shook your head and grabbed Luke’s hand, tugging him to the kitchen.

“C’mon, we gotta make coffee first.”

Luke smiled at your antics, chuckling softly. Despite the fact that you were only less than seven years apart, he felt that you kept him “young”. Having never been able to have a real childhood due to studying and watching his father’s empire grow, Luke enjoyed seeing the childlike joy spread across your face. You plugged in the espresso machine while Luke pulled two mugs down from the cabinet. You giggled when you saw the pink, Hello Kitty mug in his large hands, looking up at him softly.

“I remember that one,” You said, standing on your tiptoes and kissing Luke’s cheek. “You bought it for the very first time I spent the night.”

“That I did,” the blond said, wrapping his arms around you from behind while you started the coffee. “For my girl.” he hummed, leaving a kiss on your neck.

“You bought me my own mug?” You asked Luke as he pulled them down from the cabinet, filling the pink mug with coffee for you.

“Why wouldn’t I?” he chuckled, passing the cup of warm liquid to you.

“I dunno,” You shrugged, looking out the window down on the people of New York City to avoid Luke’s eyes. “I guess I just thought we were mostly…physical.” You blushed.

It was Sunday morning and you were sat at Luke’s kitchen island, hair messy and in a white lace nightie. It was the first time you’d ever spent the night with him, and you had been pleasantly surprised. Luke had cared for you much more than you’d expected him to, showering you with praises and even currently puttering around the kitchen, making you breakfast. You could see the smirk decorating Luke’s face at the term physical as he turned towards the toaster.

“Shit!” he yelped, drawing you out of your thoughts.

“Are you okay?” You asked hurriedly, coming around the island as Luke ran his hand under cold water in the sink.

“Burnt the toast,” the blond huffed, gesturing towards the plate that was responsible for his injury. “Goddamn it.”

Sure enough, the small, white saucer held two pieces of absolutely blackened bread that was nowhere near edible. You chuckled as you scraped the “toast” into the trash, kissing Luke’s cheek. “I’m sorry, are you okay?”

He nodded, wrapping his arms around you once he had dried his hands off. “Now that I’m holding you I am. What do you say we go out for breakfast, yeah? I know a wonderful Colombian place that we can have privately.”

You smiled, looking into Luke’s blue eyes and then down at your nightie. “I would love to, but uh, I don’t have ‘proper’ clothes to wear.”

Your clothes from last night were covered in a…variety of substances, and you didn’t deem them appropriate for going out anywhere, but especially not to a high-class restaurant with a billionaire. Luke didn’t seem to mind though, he just took your hand and drug you to his closet, throwing the doors open. Everything was organized in an absolutely immaculate way; pressed shirts hung just right, pants folded perfectly in Ikea dressers, shoes stacked neatly on shelves, and a rotating belt hanger. Before you knew it, Luke had rummaged together an outfit for you, consisting of a white button-down that would be a stylish shirt dress on you, a New York Yankees baseball cap, and some gold jewelry.

“How many times have you done this before?” You asked somewhat seriously as you began to dress.

“What? Take care of a woman? Plenty.” he grumbled.

You blushed under the lustful glare in his eyes, knowing you were working him up and loving it. “I was kidding, you know.”

“I know. I just think it’s cute how you pretend to be so big and bad like you weren’t screaming my name last night, baby doll. By the way, keep the shirt.” Luke flashed you a smile that was much whiter than the average person’s was, but your tummy flared with butterflies nonetheless.

You nodded, breathing in the scent of Hugo Boss Bottled again as you finished dressing. You had no plans of getting rid of anything he gave you. You were so attached to him that you knew it was stupid, but Luke was just so captivating. You understood now why women had been fawning over the blond for years.

“Are you ready to go?” he asked.

You nodded once more, and Luke took your hand, leading you down to his car. Today he had decided on driving the Range Rover, and once you were both seated comfortably (and he had made a call to arrange private dining at the restaurant), he began to speak. “You know just because you’re a sugar baby doesn’t mean I don’t value you, right?”

You looked across the console at Luke as he pulled out into the busy streets of New York City, admiring the sharp curve of his jaw and the slope of his nose as his sunglasses cast shadows onto his face. “Go on.”

“I just…I feel a connection to you, Y/N. I enjoy having you in my life, baby girl,” Luke paused for a moment, gripping the steering wheel before speaking again. “You make me feel good. Better than I have in years, actually. Both mentally and emotionally.” he looked over the bridge of his sunglasses to make sure you were listening.

You blushed, your cheeks flaming under the brim of the baseball hat. “That’s very kind, Luke. Thank you.” You reached across the console to where his right hand rested, pressing yours on top of his own larger, ring-clad one.

“And I have this promise to you that I want to keep. I want to make this work.” he spoke as he pulled up beside a restaurant, watching as a valet came hurrying out.

“I think we can, Luke. I think we can.” You said, leaning over the console and pressing a passionate kiss to his plump, pink lips.

You were absolutely ready to let go of the fears and ghosts you had and just be. Luke made you feel different. He gratified you physically, emotionally, and mentally, and that was exactly what you needed.

“Hello, earth to Y/N. You zoned out again. Coffee’s done.” Luke hummed, tapping your shoulder.

“Sorry,” You said, ears turning pink. “I guess I’ve just been thinking a lot lately.”

“About…?” Luke questioned, taking his mug and padding to the living room.

“I dunno. Us? How we got here?”

Luke smiled as you sat down beside him, throwing an arm around you. “We got here because I couldn’t resist the body in that pretty emerald dress and then learned about the woman wearing it.” he chuckled, flicking on the TV.

It hadn’t meant to be sexy, but you still blushed, hiding your face in his chest. “I know, it’s just…it’s hard to believe we’re in a long-term relationship when we started with the whole sugar baby thing.”

“Well, life is surprising that way,” Luke shrugged, navigating to the rom-coms section. “All I care about is the fact that I have my beautiful girl now. Mwah!” he said, planting an exaggerated kiss on your forehead as a movie began to play.

As you two fell deeper into the plot of the meet-cute characters, you couldn’t help but to notice the silence between you and your lover. It wasn’t uncomfortable, not in the slightest, but it was almost like you could hear something in it, telling you how much you truly loved Luke. As surprising as it may have been to others, you knew the blond was your forever man. You were in love, true love at that.

Before you knew it, the movie had ended and Luke was picking you up off the couch and throwing you over his strong shoulder. “Time to get ready for dinner.”

You giggled, wiggling in his arms. “Put me down!”

“Nope,” he said, popping the p. “I have something for you.”

Luke led you into your master suite, setting you down on the bed. You watched curiously as he went into the closet and then returned with a dress bag and a shoe box. You blushed and giggled as you saw the designer logos that were plastered on both. No matter how long you were with Luke, you would probably never get used to such spoiling.

“What’s this?”

“Oh, just something for you to wear this evening,” he hummed. “I’m gonna go get ready.” Luke left a kiss on your cheek before grabbing the suit he’d laid out on the dresser and puttering to the bathroom.

You slowly pulled the plastic back from the garment to reveal a beautiful, flowy red dress. You practically gasped in awe at the rich material, quickly sliding it over your head and marveling in the body mirror over how the dress hugged you perfectly, accenting your body in all the right places.

“Wow,” Luke said breathlessly when he re-entered the bedroom. “You look amazing, my love.”

You blushed under his gaze, looking up at him. “Thank you. I was thinking of wearing red lipstick. Both because it matches the dress…and because it looks good on your face.”

Luke smirked, leaving kisses down your neck. “Please do.”

As you did your makeup and finished getting ready, you let your mind wander. Putting on your mascara is when the thought hit you. Would Luke propose tonight? You shook your head with a small laugh, thinking about how ridiculous the thought actually was. He would give you more of a heads up than that. You knew that Luke would propose one day, but it probably wouldn’t be on a random date night.

“You ready, darling?” he asked, checking his watch as the Rolex logo glinted in the light of your vanity.

“Mhm,” You nodded with a smile, standing up and taking his hand. “Always.”

“I booked us a driver for tonight,” Luke informed you as you two left the apartment. “That way it can be all about us.”

You smiled, snuggling closer to his arm. “That sounds perfect. Where are we headed?” You asked as you stepped into the sleek, black car with Luke.

“You’ll see-” he smiled softly.

You cut Luke’s sentence off by kissing his lips softly. Sometimes, you just couldn’t believe your boyfriend was real and had to kiss him, just to make sure. Your lover looked so much like a prince right now it was almost illegal. His navy blue suit complimented his blue eyes perfectly, and his light blond curls fell to his shoulder just right. In short, Luke looked absolutely dashing.

“Hey, this area is familiar. There’s the hotel.” You smiled, nudging Luke’s shoulder.

Sure enough, the car had stopped outside of the hotel you and Luke had met in so long ago, to which Luke smiled at you. “We have a quick errand before dinner. C’mon.” he smirked.

The driver opened the door of the backseat for you and Luke, allowing you to step out onto the sidewalk in the chilly, New York City air. The sun hadn’t quite gone down yet, but it was enough to be cool and you pulled your jacket tighter around yourself. Luke took your hand, smiling softly and led you up the stairs and into the warmth of the lobby.

“What are we doing here?” You asked as he led you towards that all-too-familiar ballroom.

“I just thought we’d stop by. It is almost Christmas, after all,” he said, nodding towards the large tree in the corner of the ballroom. “What better time to do some reminiscing?”

You blushed softly as Luke led you to the center of the grand ballroom, underneath the luxurious, diamond chandelier. “Would you like to dance, Y/N?”

You nodded softly, trying to hide your embarrassed giggles as Luke played a waltz on his phone and began to spin you around. It was quiet here, allowing you to focus on nothing but Luke. Even though you had known for so long now, you realized just how in love you were with Luke. Looking into his eyes must’ve been what true love from all those princess stories felt like. All that mattered was that you had him and he had you. As the song came to an end, Luke brought you in close and kissed you softly, taking great care not to ruin your lipstick. You had thought that you two were done, that is, until Luke pulled back and got down on one knee, making your heart stop.

“Y/N L/N, I love you more than anything ever. I have since the day I met you. You are my sun, my moon, and all of my stars. You have given me a reason to live. Will you marry me, Y/N?” Luke asked, a soft, crooked smile on his face as he opened the ring.

“Yes!” You squealed, throwing your arms around his neck. “Yes, yes, yes!”

Luke picked you up and spun you around as a photographer stepped out from behind the tree, snapping photos. You couldn’t believe this was your life, especially when Luke slid the enormous diamond onto your finger, kissing your knuckles softly. You were so overwhelmed with love and tears that you hardly heard Luke speak to you.

“We have one more place to go.” he whispered. “Shall we?” the blond led you to the car once again, but you stopped your lover, tugging on his arm.

“It’s snowing!” You smiled, craning your neck up to gaze as the flurries fell on and around you.

Luke took your hand, spinning you around in a soft dance. The light glinted off his eyes and brilliant white smile perfectly, making your new fiancé look like a real life angel. It was almost like you two were in a snowglobe, dancing round and round until you finally pulled each other into a deep kiss, ignoring the “awe”’s and snapping of photos by passing strangers. Luke quickly helped you into the car, directing the driver towards his office on Wall Street.

“I know your job is demanding, hun, but do we really have to go into your work after we just got engaged?” You pouted and nudged the blond, knowing the effect it had on him.

“Shhhh,” Luke hushed you with a kiss on the head. “We’re not going for work; I want to show you something.”

It wasn’t long until you had arrived at the large skyscraper and were in the ornate elevator, looking through the large, glass windows as you rose higher and higher above New York City. It was hard to believe Luke actually worked here, but you recalled the one night you had seen his checking account balance when he had left his laptop open, and it suddenly didn’t seem as crazy. Even though it was a Saturday evening, people bustled around the office shouting numbers and hurrying after their bosses.

Luckily, Luke had a quiet, private office to which he threw the door open. “Ta-da.” he hummed softly.

“You came here to show me your office?” You giggled.

The blond shook his head, leading you over to the large, black desk. When you saw what he was referencing, you could’ve cried. There were several framed photos of you, all smiley and joyous that Luke had taken himself. Even on his desktop wallpaper was a photo of you when you two had gone to Turks and Caicos over the summer, plus a sticky note stuck to the monitor that said “Book Y/N’s Grad Trip”.

You threw your arms around Luke’s neck as tears pricked your eyes. “I love you.”

“I love you more, baby girl,” he hummed, holding your ass in both hands and peppering your face with kisses. “How did I get so lucky?”

“I should be the one asking that question. I really understand now.”

“Understand what?” Luke asked, softly setting you down.

“Why they lost their minds and fought the wars. Why people in romance novels are willing to give up everything for their lover.”

As you spoke, you could see tears brimming on Luke’s lower lash line. In all your time together, you had never seen the blond cry. You wrapped your arms around his waist, laying your head against his tall, broad shoulder.

“We’re not going to dinner now.” Luke chuckled and sniffled, wiping his eyes with his thumb.

“Why?” You asked curiously.

“Because I want to fuck you until you can’t walk anymore, princess,” he smirked huskily. “I know the ring on your finger says it, but I wanna make you mine.”

“Well, if you do insist.” You giggled.

Luke picked you up bridal style and carried you out of the office, not caring who was looking. They wouldn’t say anything to him anyway. And in that moment, you realized that you were in love.

163 notes · View notes

marleyybluu · 2 months

Note

Oh sista you ate baaaaad with Don Julio even tho we all know none of us needed liquor help when it comes to that man, I am wide open sober papacito ya tú sabes 🥵🤤

Don Julio 2

Best friends brother!Rio x f!black!OC (Honey)

Word count: 3.5k

Content Warning: 18+, smut under your fingernails, p in v, creampie (bcus I have a serious problem atp), two dummies who think no one notices they’re into each other, a bit of flirting, oral (f receiving), we are in missionary today, Rio wears rings 🙃 :)

Lmk if I’m missing any idk I probably am

A/N: surprise, the Rio girlies get fed even though I don’t like this, some parts suck in my opinion but I hate everything I write so what’s new. Not proofread sorry

Suddenly she was so... aware of him, of every molecule and particle that created his form. Now, she notices his hands and the copious amount of rings he wore, how large and wide his palms were and how slender and long his fingers suddenly seemed. She took a swig from her can of Twisted Tea as she sat around one of the tables in their family's backyard. She didn't want to be here, it was too weird for her, but it was his birthday party. She'd been to all of his parties since they were kids and she figured the lack of her presence would be obvious.

She kept her distance though, only saying 'Happy birthday' and 'Here's your gift' when she arrived about two hours ago and hadn't said anything else to him since. But she couldn't keep her eyes off of him, the fantasies of what could've possibly happened that night haunt he in a pleasant way, but she just adored him from afar. Paying extra attention to whom he was talking to.

Vera.

She's a beautiful woman, Honey could give her that, she is probably the same age as him too. She'd been around the neighbourhood long ago but moved and would once in a while return home to visit. She raised her eyebrows, her eyes narrow as she attempted to read Vera's lips to know what they were discussing but she couldn't make out anything, this weird pang in her chest— possibly a smidge of jealousy, was an unnecessary and stupid feeling. She sighs and shifts her eyes to Cherry who had seemingly been watching her the whole time. Honey smiles innocently as if she hadn't just been ogling her brother for ten minutes. Cherry nods to the house, letting Honey know to meet her inside.

Honey excused herself from the table and waltzed her way in through the back door that led straight into their big kitchen, a few family members-- mostly men, were inside the living room watching football. Cherry cleared her throat, her way of announcing she was in the room. Honey spun on her heels and beamed. "What's up?"

"Nothing, I just need help bringing some more drinks out."

She shrugs and they both head down to the basement and to the wall where various boxes of liquor, both strong and light, were propped up. She reaches for the Corona's and the Smirnoff's able to hold one of each. "Can you believe Vera's here? I swear that woman gets prettier with age." Cherry states and there's that kink in her chest again. Honey nods, afraid that if she mutters anything she'll give away the jealousy but her friend continues with; "I wonder if they've been hooking up." She reaches for more Twisted Teas and two boxes of White Claw's mostly for her consumption. Honey swallows and looks at her shoes. "What makes you think that?"

She smirks. "I went into his room, just to steal one of his sweaters, and I saw something pink under his bed,"

Oh god.

"I didn't touch it but I'm assuming they were some panties."

One of the boxes slipped from Honey's hands and crashed to the floor, it popped open and all the cans of Twisted Tea rolled in their own directions. Cherry chuckled. "Are you good?"

"Yeah... yeah, I just— sorry." She stammered, she squats down to pick up those that fell in front of her while her friend grabbed the scattered ones. "Here, take this box and I'll hold some of the cans." She says and they switch. Honey feels like she can't even look her friend in the eye, her cheeks feeling warm and if she was any lighter she'd be as red as a stoplight. They head back upstairs where they meet the birthday boy in the kitchen with his head in the fridge. "What do you want now?" Cherry asks with fake annoyance. He pops up and straightens his posture just like he did when he was younger getting caught doing something bad. "Came lookin' for some more drinks." He says pointing to the boxes, his eyes locked with Honey's and she swore she lost her balance for a split second.

Her face only getting hotter, he was a continuous reminder of that Sunday morning. Cherry raised her eyebrows as her eyes played ping-pong between the two, the silence was awkward and making her uncomfortable. She'd never seen the two be this strange. She dropped the cans and the box of drinks onto the counter, hard enough that the sound would snap the two out of whatever unearthly trance this was. Honey and Rio broke their staring contest, eyes bouncing off in different directions. He helped the two put the drinks in the cooler, he had a spliff tucked behind his ear, and he took it down offering it to his sister. She dismisses him and says she has to find their father, so she leaves the two alone, Rio puts the spliff between his lips and cups the free end with his hand, with his other hand he flicks the lighter and the small flame transfers over to the paper, burning it along with the kush.

Honey just watches him from the corner of her eye when he looks up she darts her eyes forward and begins to sway from side to side. He looks over at her. "Still don't smoke?"

"I do," She lied. "Occasionally." She didn't know why she fibbed, she just did. He chuckles calling her bluff and in some strange urge to prove to her friends older that she is mature enough to smoke, she takes it from him and inhales, she holds it and chokes once before coughing embarrassingly loud. He chuckles and takes the spliff from her, he pats her back but it is no help as she continuously coughs. Now it's becoming concerning. He puts the (still) lit spliff behind his ear and ushers her back inside in hopes of getting her some water.

"I-I'm fine, I sw- cough- I swear."

"Yeah fucking right, mama." He coos grabbing her a bottle from the fridge making sure he opens it for her before handing it to her. Honey tips her head back as she downs the bottle in desperate relief. She comes up for air and sighs with contentment. "Better?" He asks.

"Mhm." She nods and suddenly realizes they're both alone. In the house. In the kitchen. Honey clears her throat and opens her palm, a silent way of asking for the cap. He hands it to her and their fingers brush for a moment, she savours it, a shot of electricity running through her veins. He finds himself blushing and quickly retracts his hand, though he'd give anything to touch her soft skin again. "Thanks." She mutters. "Yeah."

There's that awkward silence and neither of them knows what to do. "Your fault anyway." She says under her breath with quick wit. "You're the one who knows you don't smoke. Why take it?"

"Why offer it to me?" She giggles, he takes it from behind his ear again and inhales as he lets her question sit in the air. He shrugs and blows the thin smoke away from her face. "Didn't think you'd take it."

Honey rolls her eyes. "You've always been like that." He responds. "Like what?" She asks. He shrugs and takes another drag. "What?" She repeats and he continues to serve her with silence. "Well, you've always been an asshole." Honey spits back, now it's his turn to roll his eyes. "Always been like that." She says mocking his words from earlier. They look at each other as the awkward silence becomes less so, it bleeds into a comfortable feeling with each other. Rio's eye quickly falls to her lips and back up to her and she catches it. She witnesses his want for her, dare she say it's a need. And between the head buzz of both kush and liquor his mask was faltering, the longer she stared the softer his features became for her.

"I need you to kiss me..." She whispers and trails off, the statement taking the both of them by surprise, he'd ask for reassurance but the slight desperation in her voice and the positiveness in her face were more than enough. Rio doesn't hesitate. He kisses her like his life depends on it and maybe it did. His hands cup her cheeks drawing her closer to him. Their bodies pressed against each other and the kiss quickly rose from slow and sweet to hot and steamy. She slides her hands under his shirt, her fingers dance along the warm skin of his smooth back. He licks her bottom lip as a response and she gladly invites him in. Honey feels herself stumbling back as their tongues fight in the name of lust, she finally hits the counter and is hoisted on top of it.

"Wait..." She mumbled but it fell on deaf ears as his lips met hers again, she moaned into the kiss and gently pushed him back. "Someone's gonna see us." She laughs breathlessly. It was a miracle no one did already. He wraps her legs around him and lifts her off the counter. "You sure about this?"

She nods and he carries her up the stairs while making sure the coast is clear. He takes her to his bedroom, the place where it all started, and closes the door and locks it. "How long do you think it'll be before anyone notices you gone?"

"Who would notice?"

She playfully flicks him against his temple. "You are the birthday boy remember?"

"Worry about it later." He huffed and before she could get another word out he shut her up with another kiss. His hands shift her dress up around her hips, the cold air of his room creates prickles against her mahogany skin. He rests her down on the bed, her back contacting the very soft comforter and the memorable mattress. The best damn sleep she ever had was on that thing. His lips travel to her jawline and along the side of her neck. She turns her head giving him more access to her sweet spot he so seemingly remembers.

Her toes curl at the teasing, the anticipation, for once she wanted to skip foreplay and just go straight to it. Her eyes flutter as he sucks on her supple skin in hopes he'd leave a mark, another thing to spark her memory of him. Honey softly moans when his fingertips play with the strings of her thong, pulling them down and exposing her wet and needy pussy. She gasps at the friction from the band of his boxers rubbing against her swelling clit. Her eyes wander the room and land on his doorknob, she squints and giggles. "What?"

"Are... are those my panties hanging from your door?" She snorts. He quickly turns his head and blushes. "Maybe."

"You want these too?"

"Don't tempt me." He says before attaching his lips to her neck once again. She lightly scratches at his back. and whines as her aching hole clenches around nothing. He finally undoes his jeans, and the sound of his belt hitting the floor only adds to the tension, she almost whimpers when his shirt is next to go and his body is on display for her and her only. Rio's hands waste no time caressing the back of her legs as he pushes them back, his eyes so fixated on her swollen sex, he places his thumb on top of her clit and rubs slow circles on her sensitive nub. She sighs with pleasure as her eyes close, his thumb soon trails down her slit collecting her slick.

His middle and ring fingers follow the same path before they find their way inside her. "Oh." Honey mewled as they planted themselves deeper, her eyes slowly rolled to the back of her skull when he started playing with her pussy. He pushed his fingers in and took them out at a languid pace. The sounds of her wet pussy squelching with every pump of his fingers erupted through the room, bouncing into his ears and running straight to his dick as if it couldn't get any harder. He had to make this quick before anyone got suspicious.

"I promise mama, next time I'll take real good care of you." Rio coos in her ear before pulling away and ridding himself of his pants and boxers.

Honey softly whines and clenches at the promise of a next time. She watched his painfully hard dick spring out and hit his lower abdomen with a hard this. Her eyes slightly widened as if was her first time seeing him. Wondering how she took all that. "You scared now?"

Honey sat up on her elbows and shook her head, she looked up at him through her fresh set of lashes. She slowly spreads her legs wider. His eyes fall between them and his tongue swipes his bottom lip. "Next time..." He softly repeats to himself as a reminder. "Next time..." He pulls her to the end of the bed and drops to his knees in front of her, he can't wait until next time. He just needed a little taste.

His head disappears between her thighs and she's greeted with the warmth of his tongue between her swollen lips she glitches at the contact but soon relaxes when a kiss is pressed against her clit before it was followed up with his tongue once more. Her eyelids fluttered. He was practically making out with her pussy, wet and sloppy sounds made themselves known-- thank goodness the music could drown them out. Gasps and whines leave her lips, her toes curl, her body rendering her powerless against his regime, especially when his thumb starts to tease her hole with small circles.

His hands ran over the back of her thighs and hooked in the space provided behind her knees. She's writhing under his touch, her hands gripping onto his sheets for dear life. "Oooooh, yeeeesss." She slurs lost in her pleasure.

Rio smiles at her continuous babbling, half the words he could barely make out himself. Honey's moans were going straight to his dick making him harder than ever it was almost painful. He, unwillingly, pulls away and she lets out a frustrated sigh. He smacks her thigh and shakes his head. "You're getting what you want, mama, relax. Yeah?"

He gives her no time to respond before he guides himself inside her heat, she's beyond wet and sticky, he knew he wouldn't last. Her back arches with every inch he puts inside her, she cries out as her hand quickly flies to his lower abdomen. "Fuck, wait..." She protests, swearing she can't take anymore.

"Honey, if you don't move that hand." His tone let her know it was a warning, she whines as she takes her hand back. Her jaw slacks so much it touches her chest, he's in and he's in deep. He retracts only a little bit before going in for more. He drives his hips into hers at a tantalizing rhythm. Honey's head falls onto the soft mattress, she lays there and all she can do is take what he's giving to her like a good girl.

A string of poetic and vulgar moans leave her system, telling him how big he is, how deep he is and how good he's making her feel. He can only respond with his grunts and praises, leaning over to bury his head in the crook of her neck, whispering some of the filthiest things she'd ever heard. "That pussy is soaking for me, huh? Guess it wasn't the Don Julio, after all, you fucking like this?"

All she can do is nod, the air from her lungs has been knocked out. The bed is rocking, creaking to the beat of his strokes, the small fear of being caught or heard had dissipated and her sole focus was on the man on top of her. "Yes, yes, yes!"

Her nails dig into his flesh while his teeth graze over her neck, his tongue gracing the same area. Rio pounded into her until he felt her tighten around him, he looked at her to catch her love faces. The way her jaw drops and her eyes roll to the back of her head, her eyelids fluttering from the intense pleasure and the euphoric feeling. And he just keeps going. Dragging it out, making sure she lets out everything. All of it. But she can't take it anymore, it feels good but she's so sensitive from the explosive orgasm, that her hand goes back to his lower abdomen.

And Honey gasps out of shock when her hands are suddenly pinned to the bed and above her head. "I told you to move your fucking hand didn't I?"

"Fuck! Baby, I can't take it." She pleads. "But you took it so well last time mama. I remember it."

Her eyes gloss over. "Telling me you don't remember? The way you kept asking me, begging me for more. For me to go deeper, for me to fill you up all the way."

She nods lazily, though she can barely tell what she's agreeing with. "Yeah? So, you can take it. Look how well you're doing right now."

Rio mumbles into her neck, he lets go of her hands and they immediately hug around his neck. "There she is." Her heels dig into his lower back, she wanted it deeper if it was possible. "Fuck me, please." She whines and it's barely a whisper. He pushes himself deep and stills his hips. "You asked so nicely darlin'." He rasps.

She's pinned between his body and the mattress, she could feel a devilish smirk against her skin before he isolates his hips— rotating them sloooowly. He's losing it too, just trying to keep his cool but he was at his tipping point. His tip nudging against her g-spot and her lush walls contracting around him. "You wanna cum baby?" She whispers and now it's his turn to nod as he loses his words. "You can cum inside me." She purrs feeling another orgasm pulling through. Rio plunged into her, she's coating him with her sticky pleasure. He stills once more and soon he's pouring everything into her, she giggles lazily. "Mmm, so warm."

He chuckled and shook his head planting a passionate kiss on her cheek. And they lay like that for a while, vibing in their post-coital glow— sweaty, hot and satisfied.

But as time passes they realize they have to go back before anyone truly notices anything. He cleans her up and himself and then begins to get dressed, in silence, which feels awkward. Neither of them knew what to say.

After they get dressed, Rio sneaks out first just in case anyone is inside the house— especially on the lookout for his sister but when he confirms the coast is clear he knocks on the door twice to let Honey know they are fine. The small action causes her to smile to herself. "I have to fix my hair." She softly says and hears a muffled, "Take your time, baby."

Her heart leaps and the little girl inside her begins to glow which causes her cheeks to heat up and if she were any lighter she'd look like a tomato.

After making sure she looked decent she creeps out of his room and closes the door quietly, but as she heads to the top of the steps she hears, "Honey?"

You've got to be kidding.

She quickly spins on her heels and smiles, seeing Cherry in the door frame of the bathroom, she reaches to turn off the light and crosses her arms right after.

"Hi, Cherry."

Her friend's eyes dart between her and the bedroom door. "What are you doing in Rio's room?"

Honey's throat had suddenly run dry and her brain had flushed all the excuses in the world. She had nothing to say. What could she say? It wouldn't be believable regardless. Her mouth opened with the incentive to speak but nothing but croaks of awkwardness.

"Are you-"

"Honey!" A sudden call comes from downstairs. It's Rio looking up at them from the first floor. "Have you seen- oh there she is. Honey and I were looking for you. Bring your big heads downstairs I'm cutting the cake."

She could feel a bead of sweat forming at her hairline. "I'm getting the second slice!" Honey childishly announces bolting down the stairs. "No! I am!" Cherry follows suit and they both bolt down the stairs. Honey slows down allowing her friend to pass her. She squeezes his arm as a silent thank you and he nods at her.

Everyone is outside and gathered around the table waiting for the three of them to arrive. Cherry and Honey stand with the birthday boy as their mom lights the candles.

"One... two... three."

They begin to sing, and while everyone is looking at him he can only pay attention to one person. Honey. She giggles and puts her head down trying to hide her ginormous smile. Everyone else was too busy singing to notice, but Cherry... oh Cherry noticed. Something was going on and she needed to find out.

Now.

🏷️: @darqchilddaydreamz @rio-reid-whoreee @skyesthebomb @realhotgurlshit @lovedlover @librarian1002

Might be interested: @bigenergy777 @educatorsareslutstoo

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javierpena-inatacvest · 8 months

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Chapter 10, Pt. 1: Happy Birthday, Javi

Summary: Javier Peña has never liked celebrating his birthday. That is, until you came into his life, and planned to give him a birthday that he will never forget. (Part 1 covers leading up to Javi's birthday and the morning of)

Word Count: 9.3K (I don't know how my peanut brain thought I could make his birthday only one chapter and keep it a reasonable length)

Warnings: SMUT (18+), unprotected p in v sex (wrap it up, y'all), oral (f receiving), vaginal fingering, creampie, praise, overstimulation (if you squint), anal fingering (f receiving *runs away into the sunset*), Javi being our consent king, Javi really just loving your ass (It's his birthday, give the man what he wants), mentions of death/grief (but in a really sweet, wholesome way), mentions of food/eating, Chucho Peña once again being the world's best dad and you two having the cutest lil bonding moment, sweet tooth-rotting fluff (but it's these two, so would you expect nothing less?)

A/N: The people have spoken, so I now present to you, part 1 of Chapter 10. I'm not sure what I was thinking when I started writing this chapter, I knew it was about to be long as hell because our sweet Javi deserves the best birthday ever, and boy oh boy, is he gonna get it. Also keep in mind as you read this, that I will die on the hill that Javi loves all of you, but is 100% an ass man though and through don't make eye contact with me after reading this, man deserves his lil birthday treat More birthday fun is coming soon!!! Thanks to the very talented @wheresarizona for the inspiration of this birthday smut!

Series Masterlist Next Chapter Previous Chapter

“New boots?”

“No.”

“A new briefcase for work?”

“No.”

“A pony? A trip to the moon? A million dollars? C’mon Javi, it’s gonna be your birthday, there has to be at least something that you want!” You groaned, playfully hitting Javi’s chest as your warm bodies laid tangled together in your bedsheets, sunlight just beginning to spill through your curtains.

“As long as I get to spend my day with you, that’s all I care about, Osita.” He chuckled at your stubbornness, pressing a soft kiss into your forehead.

“Ugh, you being so sweet is making this very hard on me, you realize that?” You sighed dramatically, giving him your best grumpy face as you ran your hands through the dark brown curls of his messy morning bedhead. “Alright, you have to go get ready for work, what do you want for breakfast, handsome?”

“You.” He rasped, wrapping his arms around you and pulling you and nipping at your neck, the hairs of his mustache brushing against your skin making you squeal and squirm.

“Javi! Real food, you dummy. You’ve already eaten me out and and we’ve fucked this morning and it’s not even 7:00 o’clock yet. At this rate, your work is gonna start writing me up for you getting in later and later every day.” You giggled as you tried to wrestle your way out of Javi’s strong grip, your bodies intertwined with the sheets of your bed as Javi finally let go, giving you a long kiss before letting out an exaggerated sigh.

“I thought you said you still needed to figure out what to get me for my birthday. This works just fine, Hermosa.” He looked at you, trying to give you his best puppy eyes and pouty lips. You lovingly swatted your arm at him, shaking your head.

“You cannot use your puppy dog eyes on me like that! Your birthday still isn’t for another week, and believe me, you will get all the birthday sex you want then, but right now, you need to go get ready for work, mmmkay? Do you want scrambled eggs or sunny side up?”

“How did you know I wanted eggs?” He asked, smiling at you.

“It’s almost kind of like I know you, just a little bit. Now go, get your cute butt in the shower before your puppy dog eyes take full effect and I lose the little self control I have left.” You gave him a quick kiss as he rolled out of bed, the muscles of his back flexing deliciously as he yawned and stretched his arms above his head before making his way into the bathroom.

From the moment you had found out about Javi's birthday, he had been very adamant that you didn’t need to do anything special to try and celebrate, let alone get him any gifts. To him, it was just another day that he got older, and that no one needed to do anything to acknowledge that. Truth be told, Javi hadn’t really had anyone to celebrate his birthday with since he was a much younger man than he was now. When he was in Colombia, the only person he had told about his birthday was Steve, and with the threat of beating the shit out of him if he told anyone else, the most Javi ever got for the past decade or so was Steve’s annual bottle of birthday whisky and a phone call from his dad. He wasn’t used to anyone caring about him, let alone his birthday. Javi knew that you were a terrible liar and couldn’t keep a secret to save your life, so you had been trying your best to throw him off your tracks for the past few weeks by asking things like what he wanted for his birthday, or what he wanted to do to celebrate. Little did he know, you already had a plan in place to give him the best birthday that he’d had in a very, very long time. Today, you had to try and execute the next phase of your birthday plot, which required a little luck, and finding Javi’s cell phone.

Once you heard the water of the shower running, you knew you were in the clear. You shuffled over to Javi’s side of the bed, where his pants from the night before were still laying in a heap on the floor. Digging through his back pocket, you pulled out his cell phone, opening it up to press through the contacts page. “I really hope he only knows one Steve…” you mumbled to yourself as your finger clicked on the down arrow, scrolling through the names on the tiny screen. “Samuel H… Sargent Davis… Oh yes, here we go! Steve!” You were relieved to find there was only one Steve saved in his phone, assuming that it had to be his former partner Steve Murphy. You quickly ran out to the kitchen to grab a notepad and a pen to scribble down his number before closing his phone and folding the piece of paper, stashing it away in your nightstand.

After you had opened up to Javi about your brother, Patrick, he slowly started to reciprocate, letting you dive deeper into his past life in Colombia, beginning to share stories from his time halfway around the world. One of the things you had quickly picked up on was how much he really liked his former DEA partner, despite how many times he had told you he was the biggest pain in his ass he had ever met. So much so, that a few weeks ago, Javi had gone out of his way to call Steve, just to catch up and talk, learning that his friend had moved to the San Antonio area not too long ago, looking to get away from the hustle and bustle of Miami. The conversation had ended with them saying they should get together at some point, and the party you had been planning for Javi seemed like just the right occasion to try and reunite him with his old friend. The plan was to try and call him today while Javi was at work and pray that he really was the right Steve you were looking for, and that he and his family would be able to come down and celebrate.

Satisfied with your mission, you slipped on one of Javi’s now many shirts that lived in your drawers, his collection of clothes at your apartment seeming to grow by the week as the two of you spent more and more time together. You headed out to the kitchen, pouring yourself your mandatory cup of coffee before you got to work on breakfast.

As Javi made his way down the hall, freshly showered and suited up for work, he leaned up against the wall, enjoying the new favorite part of his morning routine. It didn’t take long for Javi to start spending practically every night at your apartment once the two of you had started dating, his presence in your home becoming an almost permanent fixture in your day to day life. It took even less time for Javi to quickly discover there were few things he loved more than coming into the kitchen after he had showered and gotten himself ready for work to find you in nothing but your underwear and one of his shirts, singing along to whatever music you had picked for the morning as you cooked breakfast. It had now become ingrained as his favorite part of his morning, taking a few extra minutes just to lean against the kitchen wall and stare, taking in everything about your sweet and sassy self that made his heart feel like it was going to burst out of his chest every time he watched you dance and sing around the kitchen. This morning’s choices were his navy blue DEA shirt and Hall and Oats, already finding you singing louder than usual to “You Make My Dreams Come True.”

“Someone’s in a good mood this morning.” He chuckled, standing behind you as he wrapped his arms around your waist, resting his chin against your shoulder as he watched you scramble the eggs in the pan below you.

“Well it’s hard to be in a bad mood when you wake up to getting dicked down by your super hot boyfriend who comes out of the shower in his stupidly attractive suits for work.” You giggled as he kissed your shoulder, giving your ass a playful smack. “I could say the same for you, ya goof.”

“Like you said Osita, hard to be in a bad mood when you wake up next to the most beautiful woman in the world and come out to find her making you breakfast in nothing but your shirt. The sex part’s alright too, I guess.” You nudged your elbow into his stomach as you both laughed.

“Oh please, like you weren’t practically begging me to go for a second round this morning. Here, eat your breakfast, you horny menace.” You giggled as you put the finished eggs on a plate and handed them off to him.

Per usual, Javi had already almost inhaled his food by the time you sat down to eat with him, taking a big mouthful of your eggs as he cleared his plate. “Any plans for today, Osita?” He asked, taking a sip of coffee out of the Star Wars mug that had now become his personal favorite after had finished watching the last of the 3 movies a few weeks ago.

“Just some errands and stuff.” You tried your best to keep a straight face, knowing that you weren’t really lying about your plans for today, but you also weren’t exactly telling the truth. “Should probably start working on getting stuff ready for going back to school. I need to accept the fact that summer’s gonna come to an end at some point, as much as I don’t want it to.” You shrugged, trying to change the subject of Javi’s initial question. “Your complimentary breakfast and lunch every morning may not be as frequent once I have to go back to work, so I apologize in advance.”

“No need to apologize, baby. You’ve spoiled me for the past few months. Just means I get to wake up early and make you breakfast now.” He stood up, grabbing his plate to bring it over to the sink, stopping first to give you a kiss on the forehead. After cleaning up, Javi downed the rest of his coffee and gathered his things to head out the door, preparing for the second favorite part of his morning, giving you one last hug and kiss goodbye before leaving for work. “Have a great day, Osita. Can’t wait to see you later. I love you.” He draped his arms around you, hugging you from behind as you still sat in your kitchen chair, planting a kiss on your cheek as you turned around to face him.

“Love you too, Jav. Have a good day.” You stretched your neck towards him as he leaned down, your lips meeting softly and tenderly, leaving smiles on your parted mouths as you pulled away. Closing the door behind him, you gave him a soft smirk, the both of you beginning your internal countdown of the hours that needed to pass until you saw each other again.

As soon as you heard the door lock, you waited a moment before you ran back to your room, grabbing the piece of paper with Steve’s phone number, hoping it was early enough to try and catch him before he got to work. You took a deep breath, wanting to make a good first impression on Javi's friend, even if it was just over the phone. You punched the numbers written on your note into the keypad, sitting on the couch as you let the dial tone ring.

“Hello?” a low voice with a pronounced twang answered.

“Hi, is this um, is this Steve?” You asked, anxiously chewing on your bottom lip, crossing your fingers that you had the right number written down from Javi’s contacts.

“Yeah, this is Steve. Who’s askin’? Sorry, gimme one sec- Hey Connie, Olivia wants to know if she’s stayin’ late for soccer practice today. Okay, yeah, I’ll remind her. Hey sorry, tryin’ to get the girls off to summer camp and daycare or God knows where. Jesus, I cannot wait for school to start again. Sorry, who’d you say you were?” You let out a little sigh of relief hearing Connie and Olivia’s names, knowing you for sure had the right Steve.

“I’m um, I’m Javi’s girlfriend.” You introduced yourself.

“Well I’ll be damned. You really are real.” You could hear him chuckle to himself through the other end of the phone. “Javi wouldn’t shut up about you when we talked a few weeks ago. I’d never thought I’d live to see the day I saw that man so in love. What can I help ya with?” You smiled to yourself, blushing at the fact Javi hadn’t talked to Steve in months and you were the thing he was most excited to bring up.

“Well, I heard from Javi last time the two of you talked that you moved to San Antonio not too long ago. I don’t know if you remember, but Javi’s birthday is coming up, and I’m trying to throw him a surprise birthday party and I wanted to invite you. I’m sure he’d love to see you- Connie and your daughters, too. The party’s going to be Saturday the 16th at 3:00 at his dad’s ranch! I completely understand that it’s a big ask, and kind of last minute, but I figured I’d at least try!”

“Awh shit, it is, isn’t it. I do owe that old man a few years worth of birthday whiskey. Lemme go talk to my wife real quick, hang on.” You heard him set the phone down as you held your phone up between your ear and shoulder, grabbing your notepad to write down a list of things you needed to get today while you waited for Steve’s response. “Hey, you still there?” You heard his voice again through the receiver.

“Yup, still here!”

“Looks like that old man’s about to have some more birthday guests. Con just wants to make sure it’s really okay if we bring the girls.”

“Absolutely! Lots of friends and family are coming, so there will be plenty of other kids there, too! Thanks Steve, I know this will really mean a lot to him.”

“Perfect. I sure do miss that asshole. Thanks for the invite. I guess we’ll see you on the 16th.”

“Thanks again, Steve!”

“Of course. And hey- I wasn’t jokin’ when I said that he wouldn’t shut up about you. You got him head over heels in love. I think I could count on one hand the number of times I’ve seen that grumpy bastard smile and I could practically hear him grinnin’ through the phone. Glad to know he found someone who makes him happy.” You could hear the other end of the line click as Steve hung up the phone, leaving you with nothing but an ear to ear grin as you grabbed your list and got yourself ready for the day.

You had really been putting Javi’s lie detector skills to the test the past few weeks, going out during the day to meet with Chucho at the ranch to work together to plan Javi’s surprise party. Javi’s dad was absolutely thrilled with the idea after you had brought it up in secrecy one night when you and Javi had gone over for dinner, and was enthusiastic as can be to try and help you make the day a special memory for his son. Today was the last day you could be over at the Peña ranch to help with preparations without raising too many suspicions from Javi, losing out on your excessive free time as you needed to start preparing for the beginning of the new school year. Heading in with your arms full from your massive trip you had just taken for party food and decorations, you walked into the Peña home looking for Chucho.

“Hey Chucho, it’s me!” You shouted, kicking your shoes off at the door as you balanced your grocery bags in your arms.

“Hola, Mija! I’m in the kitchen!” He shouted from across the house, his tone warm and joyful. You grunted as you set down your bags on the table, finding Chucho in his usual spot at the stove, cooking something for the two of you to eat as you talked party details.

“What’s on the menu today, chef? It smells delicious!” You smiled, unpacking the groceries as Chucho wiped his hands on his apron, waddling over to help you.

“Chilaquiles. Figured it’s still early enough for breakfast food, and I know it’s your favorite.” He chuckled to himself as he watched you pull more and more items out of the brown paper bags. “Dios mio, mija. Did you buy the entire store?”

“It feels like it. With how many people we have coming, I don’t even know if this is going to be enough! Steve is coming, too! And his wife and daughters. I just called him today. I really think Javi’s gonna be excited to see him.” You grinned, your heart feeling full thinking about how many people wanted to come celebrate Javi on his birthday.

“Oh, estupendo! (Wonderful!) He will be thrilled. Wait, how did you manage to invite him without Javier finding out?” He raised an eyebrow at you as he walked back over to the stove to turn off one of the burners.

“I have my ways.” You smirked as you gave your shoulders a little shrug, organizing the items on the table.

“Chiflado.” (Crazy). He snickered, plopping an egg on each of your plates over the fried tortillas and sauce. “That one can be our word for the day. It’s a good one. Here, eat, mija.” He smiled, passing a plate over to you as you sat down at the table, Chucho pulling out a chair to join you. Ever since you started meeting with Chucho a few weeks ago, you had asked him if he would help you work on your Spanish, knowing how important it was to Javi and his family. You cared so deeply for both the Peña men who were now a part of your life, and the least you could do was learn more of the language so deeply ingrained in their identities. Like most things you asked Chucho for help with, he was enamored by the idea, your request practically bringing him to tears. Since then, he’d been helping you learn more words and phrases, picking one to focus on each time you meet.

“Chiflado.” You repeated, taking a bite full of your food. “What does that one mean?”

“Someone who is crazy, a little bit nutty. It’s a good one for you, mija, and Javier.” You both laughed at each other, enjoying his use of the word.

“That is a good one. Good one for me and you today since this is the last chance we have to plan together before the party.”

“Es la verdad.” (It’s the truth.) So tell me, Chiflado, what’s our plan for today?” He winked at you as he set down his fork over his already cleared plate.

“Well, I was thinking you could work on food, and I could help with decorations, since it’ll involve a lot of getting up and down off of chairs, and before you can tell me you’d be just fine, I don’t need to hear you whisper “Punta madre, me dulele las rodillas (Motherfucker, my knees hurt.) all day when I could have just done it for you.” You looked at him sternly, knowing that Javi had definitely inherited his stubbornness from his father, often leaving you in Chucho in a battle of iron wills over helping each other.

“Fine, fine, fine.” He swatted his hand at you. “Just tell me soy un anciano (I’m an old man) and move on.” The both of you broke from your stubbornness, laughing playfully at one another. Chucho grunted as he stood up, outstretching his hand to take your plate back to the sink. You stood up out of your chair, pushing it behind you as you let out a quiet, nervous breath. You had been working up the courage to ask Chucho the question that had been lingering in the back of your mind for the past few weeks. Every time you tried, you’d chickened out, but with only one last meeting between the two of you before Javi’s birthday, you knew you had to do it now.

“Um, there is uh, one more thing I wanted to ask for your help with, if it’s okay.” You said shyly, Chucho turning his head in confusion at your now meak voice.

“Of course, Mija. Cómo puedo ayudarte? (How can I help you?).

“I- I wanted to know if Javi had a favorite food his mom used to make him before she passed. I really wanted to surprise him and make it for his birthday. But I know how special Lucia’s recipes are to you, and if you don’t want me to make it, I totally understand. I’m sorry if I’m overstepping, I wanted to ask for your help since-”

Before you could finish, Chucho was standing with his arms outstretched, tears welling in his eyes, as he pulled you in for a hug, tightly wrapping you in his grasp. “Oh Mija.” He whispered between gentle sobs. “I would love nothing more.” He took a step back from you, hands still grasping your shoulders as the wrinkles of his worn face crinkled from his smile. “She would have loved you, Mija. She would have loved you so much. I know she is smiling down on us, knowing the joy you have brought to our sweet Javier’s life. Dios la bendiga (God bless her), all she ever wanted was for him to be happy. It brings me peace to know she can rest a little easier, seeing the love and happiness you bring to our hijo. I know Javier is so thankful he found you, but know I am just as thankful, too.”

You could feel the tears beginning to stream down your cheeks as Chucho spoke. You wished you had words to tell him how much it meant. That you were so grateful to be a part of Javi’s life, so thankful that Chucho had loved and accepted you, like you were one of his own from the moment that you two had met. You wished you could tell him how honored you were that he thought so highly of you, when all you wanted to do was just make Javi happy. You wished you had those words, but right now, they couldn’t make it out. The best you could do through your tears was pull Chucho back in for a hug, letting out a shaky whisper.

“Thank you, Chucho. For everything.”

He pulled back once more, the both of you wiping the tears off your wet cheeks as you smiled at one another. “Of course, mija. Of course.” He paused for a moment to compose himself before wiping his hands on his apron with a mischievous grin. “Tears won’t taste any good in our stew. C’mon, let’s get cooking.”

Chucho pulled the well loved recipe box out of the shelf above the stove, flipping through its contents to pull out an index card covered in red sauce stains and tears around its edges. “Here we are. Pozole de pollo. Javier’s favorite dish. This is the last one from Lucia’s box I've yet to make.” He smiled to himself, gently holding the tattered recipe card in his hands before passing it off to you.

“Why haven’t you made it yet?” You asked curiously as you ran your finger up and down the worn recipe card.

“It’s the one that reminds me the most of her. Just haven’t been able to bring myself to make it. Now, I couldn’t be more excited to.” He beamed at you, grin stretched from ear to ear.

The two of you quickly got to work, Chucho walking you through each step, mentally noting to yourself all of the little details he pointed out as you worked your way through the directions. You wanted to make sure that you didn’t miss a thing, feeling the need to do the special recipe as much justice as you could. While waiting for things to boil and simmer, the two of you found yourself chatting away as you chopped the rest of the vegetables you needed for your sauce and garnishes.

“You know, pozole de pollo was the only thing Javier ever wanted to eat when he came home from college.” Chucho chuckled, chopping up the rest of the garlic he had in front of him. “Could eat a whole batch of it in a day, a bowl for breakfast, lunch and dinner. Even in the dead heat of summer.”

“I believe it, that man is an eating machine.” You giggled, pulling out the chiles you’d finished soaking for your sauce. “Did he know he wanted to work for the DEA when he graduated?”

“I don’t know if he knew that, but he did always want to have some sort of job where he felt like he was making a difference. Always had a strong sense of right and wrong, and always wanted to help others. Lucia and I weren’t thrilled when he got the job, no parent wants to think about their child in danger. But you know as well as I do that our Javier is a stubborn man, and if he wants something, there is no stopping him until he gets it. That’s how I knew he was in love with you. Wouldn’t stop talking about you from the moment he met you. For goodness sake, he woke up at 5 in the morning to build a fence just to see you. He’s a man who knows what he wants.” You tried your best to hide the red of your blushing cheeks as Chucho blended the pozole sauce. “That’s how I know he is counting down the days until he can ask you to marry him.”

You just about dropped your ladle into the pot of boiling broth you were now stirring, hoping Chucho hadn’t heard the audible gasp you had made. “What… What did you say?” You asked as you gulped, trying to keep your cool.

“You heard what I said, Mija.” Chucho smirked, clearly enjoying your current flustered state. “Don’t worry, he hasn’t said anything to me… Yet. But like I said, when Javier knows what he wants, he won’t stop until he gets it. I’m sure if I asked him, he’d say he’ll give it a year, but I give it 6 months, tops.”

This time, the ladle you had been white knuckle grasping had now fallen to the floor, your face in absolute shock as your hand covered your face. “Wait, do you, are you… Chucho, are you being serious?”

“Mija, all I know is that Javier está enloquecido por ti y el te ama con todo su corazón. (Javier is crazy for you and loves you with his whole heart) and I am not getting any younger. I need some nietos (grandchildren) to spoil before I get too old.” His grin now even bigger as he chuckled to himself, watching your cheeks turn bright pink, taking every ounce of self restraint you had in you to keep yourself from smiling like an idiot. You bit down on your bottom lip, Chucho letting you have a few moments of peace as you turned back around to the stove to stir the pozole. Chucho just kept shaking his head and laughing to himself, almost as if he could hear the squeals of delight screaming in your head through the quiet silence of the kitchen as you continued cooking.

“Alright Mija, what do you think?” Chucho said, handing over a spoon now that the pozole was finally finished, simmering in its pot on the stove. You scooped some up, slurping down the warm broth as Chucho followed suit, letting out a satisfied hum.

“It’s delicious. No wonder it’s Javi’s favorite. What do you think? Is it okay?” You looked at him nervously, waiting for his response as he wiped his mouth with the back of his hand.

“Just as good as I remember it, if not better. Javier will love it, almost as much as he loves you.” He winked, wrapping one of his arms around your shoulder, smiling at the stew and then back up at you. “I have a feeling this will be the best birthday that he’s had in a very long time, thanks to you. Now, what do you say you listen to this old man swear at his knees as he helps you put up these decorations?”

You couldn’t believe it. Javi’s birthday was finally here, and everything had gone off without a hitch. Chucho had called one last time yesterday to let you know that everything was ready for the party, you had successfully hidden all your gifts and surprises in the apartment without them being discovered, and best of all, Javi hadn’t suspected a thing. You had made sure the night before to set your alarm to its quietest volume, praying that Javi wouldn’t hear and would sleep in long enough to let you put up some decorations in the apartment before making him breakfast and giving him a proper birthday good morning. Seemingly unstirred by your alarm, you tiptoed out of bed, trying your best not to wake Javi as he snored face down into his pillow. You grabbed some clothes before carefully closing the door behind you, fingers crossed that you could at least get another 30 minutes of sleep out of him. You quickly got to work taping the streamers and banners along the ceiling, topping off your decor with the balloons you had someone managed to hide in your coat closet. After setting out your gifts on the table, you quickly got to work on breakfast, indulging in your own family’s birthday tradition of confetti pancakes, which were really just pancakes with sprinkles and whip cream, but given Javi’s insatiable sweet tooth, you were sure they’d be a hit. You started with pancakes, along with the bacon and eggs, so focused on trying to get things done as quickly as possible, you hadn’t heard your bedroom door creek open down the hallway. Javi’s footsteps were soft and sleepy, the carpet of your apartment floors drowning out the sound as he finally stepped into the living room, speechless at what he saw.

“Osita…” His voice shook, mouth hanging half open in shock as he looked around at the colorful streamers and balloons that filled the apartment. He took another step further into the living room, now noticing the handmade banner that read “Happy Birthday, Javi!” in your cute, neat handwriting. He was still at a loss for words as he turned the corner in the kitchen to find you, finishing the last of your pancakes for the breakfast feast you had put together for him.

“No, go back to bed! Don’t look, I’m almost done! You didn’t see anything!” You ran towards him, trying your best to turn Javi around and force him back towards the bedroom. You pushed against his chest, trying to get him to move as he stood there for a moment before wrapping his arms around you, still taking in everything that you had set up for him.

“Baby… Did you… Is this… Is this all for me?” He asked, eyes glistening with joy, as he turned his head down to you, smiling in his grasp.

“No, I just really wanted to celebrate my birthday early. Yes, of course it’s for you. But right now, I need you to go back to bed for like 5 more minutes so I can finish and get my first present ready, pretty please?” You grinned at the tender expression on his face as he tried to process that you had really gone out of your way to do all of this for him.

“Baby, I told you, you didn’t need to get me anything, you already did so much, you don’t need to-”

“Javier Peña. It is your birthday. I want nothing more than to shower you with love and gifts and affection, but only if you go back into the bedroom and wait a teeny tiny bit longer and pretend it’s not your birthday yet for another few minutes.” You giggled, now shoving back into him, attempting to push his broad body down the hallway. He finally gave in, throwing his hands up, laughing as you guided him back into the bedroom, giving him a quick peck on the lips before closing the door behind him.

As promised, it didn’t take long for you to get yourself ready for Javi’s first present of the day, slowly opening back up the bedroom door to find Javi laying down in the bed, elbow resting on the mattress with his hand under his chin holding up his head. “You ready for it to be your birthday now?” You giggled, peeking your head through the crack of the open door.

“Yes, baby, I’m ready for it to be my- Oh, fuck me.” By the time you had made it through the doorway, Javi was sitting upright in bed, jaw just about on the floor as he watched you enter the room. You stood at the end of the bed in a lacy, black lingerie set- the bustier hugging against every curve of your body, its garters holding up the stockings pulled up your thighs, topped off with a strappy lace thong. You could hear how heavy Javi was breathing as he watched your every move towards him, his tongue darting out between his lips as he looked you up and down, soaking up every inch of you.

“Happy Birthday, Javi.” You winked, making your way towards the edge of the bed, watching as Javi’s eyes grow darker with lust. Your sweet voice was enough to already make his cock start to twitch, but that, paired with the fact you were all dressed up just for him had him half hard in seconds.

“Hermosa… Fuck… You look fucking incredible. Is this all for me, baby? Do I get to unwrap you like the pretty little present you are?” He rasped, practically climbing over the edge of the mattress to pull you into bed with him. He grabbed you by the hand, ushering you up onto the bed as you straddled over his lap, feeling how hard and heavy his dick had grown beneath you in his boxers. His hands slid along your sides, fingers tracing over the lacy fabric before he reached down to grab a handful of your ass, kneading your soft flesh between the strong grip of his fingertips.

“I don’t know… I thought you said that you didn’t want any presents.” You teased, Javi giving you a playful smack on the ass for your witty remark.

“If this is the only present I get to unwrap for the rest of my life, I’ll die a fucking happy man.” He mewled, grabbing your hips as he pushed you deeper into his lap, groaning as you rolled your hips against his cock, straining against the fabric of his underwear.

“Don’t worry, this one’s just the first of many. You can unwrap me however you want, birthday boy. Anything you want, I’m all yours.” Your words made him shutter as he looked up at you, a curious smirk growing under his mustache.

“Anything?” He whispered, licking his lips, his eyes filled with want and desire.

“Anything.” You cooed, raising your eyebrows at him.

“Fuck me…” He took one more look at you before grabbing you and flipping you on to your back, making you squeal. He kissed his way down your body, hot, wet presses of his lips against your skin and lace, covering you from your chest to your stomach. His hands ran up and down the meat of your thighs, fingers toying with the ends of your stockings before wrapping his arms under your legs, yanking you closer to him. He grazed his fingers over your thong, the fabric already soaked, as he pushed it to the side, revealing the slick pooling along your entrance.

“Jesus, Osita, haven’t even touched you yet and look at how wet you are for me. Fuck, I need to taste you, baby.” Spreading your legs open wider, he dove into your pussy like a man starved, feverishly lapping you up, tongue swirling and pressing against your already throbbing clit. It wasn’t long until his two fingers pushed inside you with ease, making you gasp as your back arched along the bed, whimpering at the way his mouth and hands worked against your heat.

“Javiiiii…” You whined, bucking your hips towards his face, already feeling the arousal starting to pool in your belly at the way he knew just how to make you come undone. “Baby, you feel so good, fuck, Javi, fuck.”

He removed his mouth for a moment, his breath hot against your sensitive bundle of nerves as he glanced up at you in delight. “Yeah? It feels good, Hermosa? Gonna be a good girl and cum all over my face, let me taste that sweet fucking pussy?” You nodded frantically, practically feeling his smirk against you as his fingers curved, hitting the sweet spot inside you that had the heat building at the base of your spine. He licked long, flat strokes of his tongue against your clit, his hand thrusting deeper into you, moaning his name over and over as you squirmed underneath him, his free arm draping over your hips, holding you in place. You could feel how tightly you were beginning to clench around his hand, your pussy fluttering as you felt yourself reaching your high.

“Javi, Javi, Javiiiii.” His name the only words forming as your brain short circuited, coming closer and closer to your end.

“Keep saying my name, baby. I love the way you say it. Don’t hold back, Hermosa, let me hear how good it feels when I make you cum.” It only took a few more thrusts of his hand before you snapped, crying out his name as your pleasure rolled through you, your fists grasping at the bed sheets. You cunt clenched around him, squeezing his fingers as they still pulsed inside you, nowhere close to easing from their usual pace after Javi watched you fall apart beneath him. You could feel yourself panting, worked up and on the edge of overstimulation.

“Gonna give you one more, Osita. Doing so good for me, pretty girl. I know you can take it, baby, just a little bit more.” He purred, giving you a smug look before barely pressing his thumb against your clit, making you cry out from his touch, so sensitive and worked up from your first orgasm. The pad of his thumb pushed just a little bit harder, circling around your mound as you felt yourself on the brink of falling apart once more. Already so close, he slipped a third finger into your heat, the sweet stretch of his digits inside you making you lose yourself once more. Your moans were swallowed by his lips as he leaned down to kiss you, finally slowing his pace before removing his hand, leaving your legs trembling and breathing heavy as you tried to compose yourself. “Such a good girl, taking me so well.” He hummed, cradling the jaw of your blissed out face as he brought his other hand to your mouth, his fingers drenched and glistening from your slick. “Open.” His thumb pulled at your bottom lip as you complied. “Taste how sweet you are for me, baby. Sweetest fucking pussy I’ve ever had, and it’s all fucking mine.” Your tongue swirled around his fingers as they rested in your mouth, sucking the tangy taste of you off of them before pulling back out.

“It’s all yours, Javi. It’s all yours.” You moaned, finally catching your breath enough to form a coherent thought.

“You really meant it, Osita? Anything I want?” His hands running up and down the length of your body, taking in how beautiful you looked beneath him, lace covered and blissed out, all for him.

“Anything you want.” You repeated, the sweet brown gaze of his eyes locking with yours.

“Hands and knees, baby.” He smirked, grabbing you by the waist as he pulled you up, propping you on all fours as he shuffled behind you on the bed, smacking your ass before gently massaging your flesh. “I fucking love you so much, you know that? Fuck, I’m so lucky. So lucky that you’re mine, all dressed up just for me, Jesus Christ, you’re fucking perfect.” You whimpered as you felt him line himself up with your entrance, running his tip through your folds, the lips of your pussy still soaked and puffy from your last two orgasms.

“Fuck, I love you too Jav-ahhhhhhh.” You gasped as you felt Javi bottom out inside of you, the angle of him pushing himself into from behind always stretching you in a way that had you speechless. He paused for a moment before slowly beginning to rock his hips, only pushing himself halfway in, savoring how sweet you felt. It wasn’t long before his thrusts became deeper, his cock brushing against your cervix, punching into the spot that had your vision going white, leaving you trembling and breathless. You could hear how wet you were, the sounds of him pounding in and out of your weeping pussy on top of the grunts and whimpers between you two had the room sounding borderline pornagraphic.

Despite how amazing it felt as he pumped in to you, there was a part of you that was surprised that fucking you from behind was all he wanted after you had given him free reign for his birthday. Javi loved your ass, and that was putting it lightly. The man worshiped it, and being on your hands and knees was a position you found yourself in frequently in the bedroom, so you were surprised that this was his choice. That was until you felt his fingers reaching under your thong, pulling the lace even further to the side, the wet spit of his mouth on your ass, his hand creeping further down the base of your spine until it stopped there.

Oh.

You felt his thumb press against the tight ring of your muscle, swirling his spit as you shuttered, cunt clenching at the thought of what he was about to do. You knew why he wanted you like this. Oh, fuck.

“Is this okay?” He asked softly, gently pressing the pad of his thumb more firmly against your tight hole, making you whine in delight.

You nodded desperately, your response practically incoherent as it babbled from your brain, falling off your tongue. “Yes, oh my god, Javi.”

“Osita, tell me if it’s too much. If it’s too much I’ll stop right away, okay? Promise you’ll tell me?” God, this man was about to put his thumb in your ass and he still found a way to make it sweet.

“I promise.”

“Okay.” He kept his thrusts inside you steady as you felt his thumb breach inside, making you whine. Audibly whine. His thumb was barley in you and it felt so tight, the feeling of how full you felt making you wetter by the second. “Relax baby, it’s okay, I’ve got you. Doing so good for me, sweet girl.” He hummed, his praise deep and horse. You took a deep breath, feeling yourself relax as he pushed his thumb in further, making you whimper as you felt your clit absolutely throbbing with each press of his digit inside you. “You okay?” He asked, leaning over you, nipping at your shoulder as you shook your head yes, your brain an absolute loss for words. You gasped as you felt his thumb exit, being replaced by his two fingers pushing deeper into your tight hole. You felt so full, the size of his cock and the thickness of his fingers had you whimpering, clawing at the bed sheets underneath you. The thrusts of both his dick and hand slowly began to pick up their pace, feeling yourself throbbing in delight from the stimulation. It was like you could feel every nerve in your body screaming in pleasure, you were barely hanging on by a thread, painfully close to your end. All it took was the slightest press of the heel of Javi’s palm against your clit before you were screaming out his name once more.

“Javi, fuck, fuck oh my god, Javi, I’m gonna-ahhhhhAHHH.”

Your orgasm crashing through you like a tidal wave, leaving every inch of your body trembling, practically seeing stars from how hard you came. That was all it took for Javi to follow suit. He was already so worked up from the image of you, riled up and moaning his name, that watching you cum as hard as you did sent him over the edge instantly. It took all of his self restraint to not come from the moment you had agreed to let him play with your ass. He’d be lying if he said he hadn’t thought about it more often than not, wanting to pleasure you in any way he could, and now that you had let him, it was game over. With only a few more pumps, he found himself rapidly pounding into you as he chased his own high.

“Fuck baby, I’m gonna come too. Did so good for me, my good girl taking me so well. My fucking perfect girl. Quiero estar contigo para siempre, Osita. Te quiero con toda mi alma. (I want you forever, Osita. I love you with all my soul.) Fuck, I’m-” You could feel his cock throbbing as he pulsed inside you, spilling deep into your walls, milking himself of ever last drop as he slumped over your body, your chests rising and falling together. After catching his breath, Javi pulled out, the mixture of the two of you running still down your thighs as he quickly got up to go wash his hands and grab a towel, laughing as he returned from the bathroom to find you face down in the bed, sprawled out across the mattress. “You okay, baby?” He shook his head as he sat down on the bed next to you, running his hand across your back.

“Ho-ly shit.” You rasped, face pressed against your pillow before lifting it up to look over at Javi. “Javi… holy fuck. I don’t think I’ve ever came so hard in my entire life. I think I’m dead. I think I died and went to heaven.”

“You’re fucking ridiculous, Osita.” He chuckled at your dramatics, gently wiping the cloth against you and cleaning you up before tossing it in the hamper. “To be fair, I don’t think I’ve ever came that hard either. Happy fucking birthday to me. This is the best birthday I’ve ever had and it’s not even 10:00 AM yet. God, I love you.” You sat up as he grabbed your face, pulling you in for a long, deep kiss, a grin spreading across his lips as your mouths met.

“Well then you’re in luck, your day’s just gettin’ started, birthday boy.” You winked, playfully pinching his cheek as the two of you laughed.

“Does this mean I finally get to go out and see the rest of the apartment now?” Javi smiled, now remembering all the decorations you had set up for him around the house that he had only half appreciated in his shocked and sleepy state.

“Absolutely. I’ve got breakfast and more presents for you too.”

“God, what the fuck did I ever do to deserve you?”

“I could ask myself the same thing.”

Your hunch about the confetti pancakes was absolutely correct, losing track of how many Javi had eaten, considering you’d stopped counting after 4. To you, the decorations that you had set up around the apartment were just a fun touch to help celebrate, but to Javi, it was about the most thoughtful thing anyone had ever done for him. It almost brought you to tears seeing how excited Javi was that you had got him balloons, streamers, a handmade banner that he couldn’t seem to stop complimenting, even when you insisted that all you did was just write a little more neatly than usual. Javi meant everything to you, and the fact that you were able to bring him so much joy from something so small made your heart burst at the seams. If he was this excited from just decorations, you were really gonna have to ease him into the rest of the day.

“You ready for your presents, or do I need to make another batch of pancakes?” You laughed as Javi finished off what had to have been his 6th pancake, squirting the can of whipped cream in his mouth to top it off.

“Baby, I told you, you didn’t have to get me anything. You’ve already done more than enough for me.” He said, wiping his mouth with the back of his hand as he leaned back in his chair.

“Let me rephrase- I bought you presents and I’m giving them to you. Can I please give them to you now?” You folded your arms over your chest as you gave Javi a stubborn look.

“Yes, fine. Thank you. They better not be fucking expensive, you don’t need to be spending that kind of money on me.” He grumbled as you handed him over the first gift, slowly taking the tissue paper off the top of the bag.

“Will you stop being such a party pooper and just open your damn gifts? I’m a big girl, I can spend my money how I want, and I wanted to spend it on you.” You sassed as he shook his head, pulling out a silky blue and red checkered tie out of the gift bag. He smiled as he picked it up, running his hands over the fabric.

“This is really, really nice, thank you, Osita.”

“You’re welcome. I figured it’d look good with any of your suits, and that you’d look handsome in it, regardless. Okay, next one!” You grinned, handing him over the next box, waiting excitedly for his reaction as he ripped off the wrapping paper. As Javi peeled the rest of it back, his eyes widened as he looked at the box before looking back up at you in shock.

“Osita…” He stared at you for a moment, just holding the box in his hands, almost as if he was refusing to see what was inside.

“Will you just open it, please?” You pleaded, having a feeling this was going to be his reaction to your gift. Carefully, he took the lid off the box, his head shaking as he saw what was inside. Gently, he pulled the silver watch out, holding it in his hands as he stared at you with those big, brown puppy dog eyes.

“Baby… This is fucking nice. Like, so nice. Do you know how expensive these are? You didn’t need to do this, I can’t-”

“You have been constantly complaining about how your watch does work and you needed a new one. I know it's expensive, but it’s your birthday and you deserve it. And don’t you dare try and tell me to return it, I will come over and put that watch on your wrist myself if I have to.” You raised an eyebrow at him before he could rebuttal, biting down on his tongue as he smiled, slipping on the watch. He got up from his seat, cupping your face, kissing you deeply and tenderly.

“Thank you, Osita. You’re amazing. I don’t deserve any of this. I just- thank you.” His thumb rubbed along your jaw as he cradled your face, practically feeling the genuine joy and appreciation radiate from him.

“There’s one more thing I still have to give you.” You beamed, trying your best to contain your excitement for the final gift you had for Javi.

“Baby, there’s more? You already got me way too much, please-”

You cut him off, holding out the tiny black box that you had been hiding behind you, gesturing down at it for him to take it, your hands shaky as you nervously passed off the gift. With a sigh, Javi took it, undoing the bow you had tied as he opened the package, looking at it with confusion.

“A key?” He asked, puzzled by the present.

“Go take it and stand out in the hallway.” You requested, Javi complying but still utterly confused as to what was happening. Javi stood on the opposite side of your doorway facing you, giving him a little wave before closing it on him and clicking the lock.

“Osita, what is happening?” You heard him laugh through the other side of the door.

“Use the key!” You insisted, smiling to yourself as you heard the doorknob rattle, Javi twisting it open as he walked back into the apartment. You grinned at him in anticipation, hoping that he had caught on, but Javi still appeared to be completely oblivious to the point of gift.

“It’s a key to your apartment?” He questioned, a confused look still spread across his face.

“Mmmhmmmm.” You nodded, over dramatically, waiting for it to click with him.

“Baby, I’m really sorry, I don’t understand.” He laughed, running his hand over his face, shaking his head. You put your hands on your hips, looking at him, bewildered how he still had no idea what the key meant.

“Wow, I really thought your detective skills would have come into play on this one, Agent Peña, but I guess not. Javi. It’s your own key to the apartment. I- I want you to move in with me.”

“Osita… Are you… Baby, are you serious?” He stood there frozen in shock, his jaw hanging open as he processed what you had just said.

“I mean, only if you want to, I know it’s kinda fast and I don’t want you to feel pressured, but I- OH!” You shrieked as Javi locked his arms under your thighs, hoisting you up as you wrapped your legs around the small of your back, draping his arms around his shoulders. You could feel his smile against your skin as he peppered you with kisses, making you giggle and squeal as he spun you around the living room.

“You’re really being serious?” He beamed at you, his grin stretching wide across his face as the tears welled behind his eyes.

“Of course I’m being serious, ya goof. I love you, Jav.” Your face mirrored his as your happy tears streamed down your cheeks, burying your face in the crook of his neck as you hugged him tightly, Javi squeezing you closer to his chest as he held you.

“I love you so much. Fuck, of course I’ll move in with you. There’s nothing else I’d rather do than spend every day coming home to you. Me haces muy feliz. Eres más de lo que merezco. Tú y yo juntos por siempre, Osita."(You make me so happy. You’re more than I deserve. It’s you and me forever, Osita.)

"Tú y yo contra el mudo, Javier Peña." (You and me against the word, Javier Peña.)

Taglist: @cool-iguana @rhoorl @whyjuliaaa @bbiophiliaa @pertinentpostmortem @angelofsmalldeath-codeine @pedrobaby @fatima-marisa @beboldbebravethings @poodlebae @kittenlittle24 @3sriracha @jungchloee @perennialdoll247 @prettyinpunk85 @partyofone3413 @harriedandharassed

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lincolndjarin · 7 months

Text

Oh Honey. ✩ Chapter 2

chapter two : beware the jabberwock

series masterlist ao3 kofi main masterlist

a/n : took a while to get out but here is chapter two !!! i have a lot of fun writing this fic bc the pacing is so much different than bks but i'm excited to get this chapter out bc i loved writing it so much and i'm so happy that people enjoy this fic so far !!

pairing : monster!joel miller x mortician!reader

rating : 18+ mdni - explicit content, read all warnings

word count : 15.1k (i'm so sorry idk what happened)

summary : new relationships are tricky, especially when your boyfriend likes to disappear for several days with no explanation.

warnings, etc. : dub con?? i'm gonna tag this with that because the sex is like weird in this?? a lot of it is angry or reluctant from one participant at times so i'm gonna tag it just in case, soulmates au, no outbreak au, language, graphic descriptions of violence, gore, fear, feeling of being stalked, feeling of being watched, me making up things regarding the embalming process, animal death, graphic description of the mortuary process, menstruation, derealization (sort of), smut, oral f!recieving, p in v, biting, just like a lot of mouth stuff lmao, cum eating, rough sex, degradation, sort of dumbification, joel is a bit beastly, multiple orgasms, overstimulation, praise, use of the pet name bunny, nightmares, periods, menstruation, joel is a terrible boyfriend, angry sex, injury, blood, blood drinking, manipulation, not a/b/o but something i made up that is sort of along those lines??, body horror, monsters, predator & prey dynamic, a lot of stuff happens this chap so i might have missed some sorry!!, no physical description of reader but joel is described as being abnormally strong and does pick reader up, there is no actual fucking of a monster yet we can't just do that right out the gate it's a thriller it destroys the thrill if they fuck immediately, that being said; this is a monster fucker fic - proceed accordingly

comments and reblogs are appreciated!

You don’t sleep well after your dream.

Just staring up at the ceiling until the sun is starting to shine through the windows.

Not that you’ve been sleeping well recently to begin with. And Joel suddenly feels less safe, the grip of his arms around you feels more like it’s trapping you rather than protecting you.

It’s Joel.

Just take a deep breath.

It’s Joel. Joel Miller. Sweet, handsome, kind, Joel Miller. Joel who came back, even though you assumed you’d never hear from him again.

It was nothing more than a dream.

Stop making up monsters.

You slip out of his arms, quietly making your way over to the fridge to try and find something to make for breakfast. You haven’t gone shopping in a while, all you’ve got is half a loaf of bread and a few eggs. Good enough. Clicking the stove on you set a pan down, cracking the eggs with a small sizzle as they hit the metal.

“Up already?” You didn’t hear him wake but when you turn he’s propped up on an elbow watching you.

“Couldn’t sleep.” Not technically a lie.

“Are you okay?” He sits up a bit and you can feel him sizing you up.

“Yeah, I’m fine.”

You aren’t really.

But you can’t really tell him why, so why bother.

He stretches his arms above his head as he gets up, making his way over to you, wrapping his arms around your waist, and resting his head on your shoulder as you flip the eggs.

“Hungry?” You’re desperate to think about anything but your dreams, as you speak his grip around your waist tightens.

“I could eat.” You shudder for several reasons as his teeth graze your neck before nipping at you.

“These should be done in a few minutes, I just gotta make the toast.” You laugh softly as the scruff of his beard brushes against you.

He makes it too easy to forget your fears.

“Mhmm.” The vibrations from his humming make you gasp, nearly dropping the spatula in your hand as he squeezes you for a moment. You work around his advances, putting the bread in the toaster as one of his hands slips under your shirt.

“How many do you want?” You hold up the bread in front of him, trying to get him to pay attention but it’s getting difficult to stay focused on your task when something is currently pressing against your ass.

“I think I’m fine with just this.” He squeezes the bare flesh of your torso making you yelp a bit as his hand drifts further up.

“What happened to your third date rule?” He groans as you reach over to the stove, turning the burner off to keep the eggs from burning before turning around in his arms, your back pressed against the counter.

“We should go to dinner tonight.” He smiles before leaning forward to kiss you but you put a hand between his mouth and yours.

“What makes you think I’ve forgiven you enough to warrant another date?”

He pouts. His bottom lip sticking out a bit as he frowns.

“Wouldn’t matter if I did anyway, it would only be the second date.” You shrug.

“Last night was the second date.” He says rather matter of factly.

“That didn’t count.” You can’t help the smile that threatens to form on your as his frown deepens.

“So you wanna wait for two more dates.”

Definitely not.

“Tonight?” For a brief moment you try and think of anything else you might be doing but you don’t exactly have a social life here in Honey.

“S’gotta be, I’m spending tomorrow with Ellie and then I’ll be busy with work, gotta catch up on some things.”

Why would he need to catch up if he’s been busy all week?

“Tonight works.” Even after what he put you through you still feel the strangest pull towards him, dragging him to the table with you as you set down a couple plates.

“I’ll be here at eight?” He sits, an accomplished look on his face.

“Works for me.”

You have an uneventful breakfast.

Neither one of you talks about his disappearing act. And eventually he has to leave for work and so do you, so he gets his things together once you eat.

“Get dressed, I’ll drive you to Maria’s, I gotta pick up Tommy anyway.” He takes a sip of whatever juice you had left over in the fridge as you nod, finding something clean to wear before following him out to the truck.

He makes it too easy.

He smiles like everything is fine and he holds your hand as he drives.

“Have a good day at work.” You return his smile and he leans across the truck cab to kiss your forehead.

“You too, I’ll see you tonight.”

“See you tonight.” You wave at him as you walk up to the house, Tommy’s just leaving, giving you a pat on the back as he passes you before jumping in the truck with his brother. With a weak smile you watch them go.

There are no bodies today.

It’s a paperwork day for both of you. You know Maria’s dying to ask about what happened but she never does, just staring up at you every once in a while, always looking like she’s about to say something before choosing not to.

You decide to throw her a bone.

“I’m having dinner with Joel tonight.” You can’t ignore the surprised smile on her face.

“I’m glad you two seem to be getting along.”

“Yeah, apparently he got caught up in his work for a few days.” You try and get a reaction out of her but she goes emotionless, giving you only a hum in response.

You don’t try to start another conversation after that until you say good night at the end of your shift. Giving her a small wave before stepping into the misty evening air.

You keep your eyes on the trees the entire walk home but nothing seems out of sorts and before you know it you’re safe in the camper.

You’re dressed and ready to go when the truck pulls up. You aren’t sure where exactly you’re supposed to be going but you’re ready nonetheless, deciding on just jeans and a plain tshirt. What you aren’t expecting is when Joel steps out of the truck with grocery bags and a grin plastered on his face.

“I thought we could cook together.” He says as he makes his way up the steps inside.

“You know how to cook?” You try not to sound as surprised as you are but he just laughs.

“I have two kids. I know how to cook.” He sets the bag on the counter and you open it, he’s brought bread, cheese, and cans of tomato soup.

“What exactly do you plan on cooking?”

“Grilled cheese.” He says it like it’s the most obvious thing in the world and any worries you had about tonight go out the window.

“You really went all out for tonight.” You raise your eyebrows at him.

He nods, searching through the cabinets for a pan and a pot.

“When you said cook together you meant you cook and I watch, right?” You lift yourself up onto the counter as he lights the stove.

“Obviously.” He sets everything down and you watch him fish around the top of the fridge for a few seconds before pulling down a rather dusty old radio. “I knew she had one somewhere.” He grins as he sets it down beside you, plugging it in and fidgeting with the knobs until the static turns into music.

You don’t recognize the song that plays but he does, as he hums along, opening the two cans, emptying them into the pot.

You had been so nervous about tonight, nightmares aside, you had expected a totally different Joel, the kind of person who ignores you for a week and expects immediate forgiveness. But instead he continues to be just Joel. Joel, who’s very presence lulls you into an overpowering sense of comfort. The moment he stepped inside the camper the entire space became heavy with his cologne, everything smells like the forest, as if you’re surrounded by pine trees and not the four walls around you.

“We should do something this week.” He turns to you as he butters the bread, setting it in the pan with a quiet sizzle.

“Don’t you have work, and Ellie?” You tear open the plastic wrapper on the cheese, handing him a few slices.

“I do, but I can get Tommy to watch her for a night.” He tosses them down onto the bread before opening a drawer, riffling around until he finds a spatula.

You hum along to the music with him when the song changes to something familiar, watching him cook.

He looks at home with you, like he belongs right here.

You both laugh your way through dinner, it’s outrageous how charming he can be, he tells you about the house he’s building, and how his brother ordered the wrong kind of cement. (You didn’t know there was a wrong kind.) And he tells you about how Ellie’s picked up some curse words, apparently there’s quite an argument happening between the Millers regarding who she learned them from.

You’ve always been hesitant to talk about work, especially on dates because you never know how people are going to react. Not everyone has the same relationship with death that you have. So when he says, how has working for Maria been? You aren’t exactly sure what to say.

“It’s good.”

“That’s it? It’s good?” He looks up at you, giving you that lopsided fucking smirk and you can’t help but just melt at the sight of it.

“We’ve been… busy, lots of work the last few days, now we’re just funeral planning, this week we’ve got a funeral pretty much everyday, Maria’s swamped.”

“What made you choose this line of work?”

You never really know how to answer that question.

“Because I like to play with dead things.” Never gets the laugh you hope for, and the real answer just makes you sad.

“I like to fix things.” You instinctively break eye contact, staring down at an uneven floor board you’d never noticed before under the table. “I like knowing that I can help people in that way, to fix them one last time.”

For a moment he doesn’t speak, when you look back up at him he simply looks at you with something that resembles yearning.

“That’s nice.”

You’re glad he thinks so.

He takes the dishes, rinsing them in the sink despite your protests.

Your palms are getting clammy.

This is, by his count, your third date.

Is it weird that this feels scheduled? It was different when you’d brought him home after your first date, that felt natural, your body innately wanted to be with him. How do you even start this kind of thing when it feels so planned? You both know what you want but it feels strange to just outright say, so is this the part where we have sex?

He dries his hands on his jeans and clears his throat as he turns back to you, holding his hand out, you aren’t really sure what he’s doing until he pulls you up from your seat, wrapping his other arm around your waist.

It isn’t the kind of song you can slow dance to, it’s fast and upbeat.

But as far as you can tell, Joel isn’t the kind of guy who dances in the first place, so you bring your free hand up to his shoulder and join him in his attempts to dance.

I heat up, I can't cool down

You got me spinning

There isn’t a lot of floor space in the camper but he makes it work by holding you close and mostly just spinning you as he nods along to the music.

'Round and 'round

'Round and 'round and 'round it goes

If his goal was to put you at ease then it’s working, any remaining nerves you have fizzled out completely. You laugh in earnest, not out of fear, as he bumps his nose against yours.

Where it stops nobody knows

Every time you call my name

I heat up like a burning flame

Burning flame full of desire

Kiss me baby, let the fire get higher

He keeps his forehead flush with yours as you continue to sway your hips back and forth to the beat, the both of you laughing and spinning, you watch curiously as he closes his eyes, inhaling deeply.

Abra abracadabra

I wanna reach out and grab ya

Abra abracadabra

Abracadabra

With a satisfied sigh he opens his eyes, his gaze going from simple infatuation to something darker. When the song ends he pulls you close, so you’re chest to chest and reaches over, turning down the radio.

“So…” You can’t stop smiling as you stare at him through your lashes.

“So.” He gently guides you, his hands on your hips as he walks you backwards until the backs of your knees hit the bed.

“I’ve got a long day tomorrow, I should probably get some sleep.” You give him an exaggerated yawn and point at the bed, plastering a mock apologetic look on your face.

“You’re really funny.” He leans down to give you a chaste kiss before picking you up. His strength is still a wonder to you.

The way he throws you down onto your bed makes you erupt into a fit of giggles but he certainly isn’t laughing anymore as he drags you by your ankles to the edge of the mattress, a look of concentration on his face now.

“Joel!” You shriek as you hear the tearing of the zipper on your jeans.

“M’sorry.” He grumbles, making no effort to slow down as he tugs them down.

He doesn’t sound sorry.

“It’s a zipper, just unzip it for Christ's sake.” His sudden change in demeanor leaves you a little breathless, in the blink of an eye he’s gone from remarkably gentle to practically unhinged.

“S’too late for that.” He groans softly as he kneels on the camper floor, throwing your legs over his shoulders.

“You owe me a new pair-” Your voice trails off into a stuttered moan as his mouth latches onto the front of your panties, dragging his tongue over the wet spot that’s been forming all night.

“We can go to the mall sometime this week.” He mumbles against your cunt before you feel his teeth grazing the fabric before tearing it apart completely.

“Jesus, Joel!” Instinctively your hands grip his hair as he buries his face between your legs.

How sharp are his teeth?

He’s all consuming. Like he’s trying to lay claim to every single part of you. And he’s loud, it’s a good thing you don’t have neighbors. Lewd slurping noises as he laps at your dripping hole like it’s his fucking job.

He flattens his tongue, dragging it through your folds, for a moment you aren’t sure what he’s doing, but it feels fucking amazing. The way his tongue moves in and out of you, occasionally drawing a lazy circle around your clit, it isn’t like anything anyones ever done before. It takes you a moment to realize that he isn’t necessarily trying to make you feel good (despite the effect it may be having on you,) you’re pretty sure he’s tasting you.

Drinking you in. If he’s trying to get you off it’s only because he wants more.

“S’ so sweet.” He mumbles against your thigh, biting the meat there making you cry out a bit before he returns to his work between your legs.

“Joel- fuck, Joel please.” You manage to stutter out between gasps, when did he become so gruff? You never could have predicted that he would be like this in bed, his grip on you is certain to leave bruises and you can barely think straight after just a few minutes with his head between your thighs. The noises he makes as his lips wrap around your clit are down right pornagraphic. Your vision is starting to go white around the edges as he does the first gentle thing since he started, sucking that bundle of nerves almost lazily. Through shuttered breaths you manage to mumble out his name a few more times your vision whites out completely.

You’re a little surprised at how quickly he manages to pull an orgasm from you, your skin coated in a thin sheen of sweat as you sit up, pulling him up by his hair as you crash your lips against his, tasting your own slick on his tongue. He moves so feverishly as you feel his hands spreading you again, teasing your entrance with two fingers before slowly pushing them in.

“Joel- oh my god-” He silences your rambling with his mouth again, swallowing your groan once he’s knuckle deep inside you. His brows furrow in concentration as he starts to pump them in and out of you. “P-please.” You stammer out.

It’s such a sharp contrast to the Joel you’re used to, he’s so… unruly.

“So fucking tight.” He mutters before grinding his palm against your clit, pulling another series of gasps from your throat. “Such a pretty, tight, wet cunt.” He whispers against your jaw and you feel a third finger pushing into you.

You hadn’t expected him to be so vulgar, turns out he’s only all southern manners outside of the bedroom. You’re starting to see stars all over again as you feel the stretch of his thick fingers, he nips at your jaw before pressing them in deep, focusing on grinding the heel of his palm into your clit until you’re soaking his hand, hands tugging at his hair as a second orgasm is ripped out of you with a shudder. Your head falls back with a noisy whine, you can’t decide if you want more or less, his touch burns your skin but you feel so cold without it.

“Please, please Joel.” You exhale the words, scratching lightly at his shoulders with a whine.

“Tell me what you want.” His voice is lower than ever and you watch as he unzips his jeans, shoving them off and taking his cock in between his fingers, still slick with your release. Your eyes go wide as he strokes himself a few times, he’s thick, hefty, you’re trying not to stare slack-jawed at the way he fills his own hand. You grab the bottom of his shirt, pulling it off in an attempt to feel more of his skin against you.

“Fuck me… please.” You tack on the please at the end hoping he doesn’t make you wait much longer as you gawk at his pretty tan skin. You don’t even know where to look, you run your fingers through the coarse sprinkle of black and gray hair on his chest as he crawls further up the bed to hover above you.

He takes your thighs, pushing them up against your stomach, his eyes dark with something reminiscent of hunger. You hook your own arms around your knees to keep yourself in that position as he takes hold of his cock once more, guiding himself into you with a strangled groan.

“Christ…” He mumbles under his breath as he slides just the tip of himself in, your own breath hitching at the size of him. He tilts head town, pressing a soft kiss to your chin.

He splays his palms out on your thighs, leveraging himself as he carefully rocks his hips back and forth, slowly working himself into you. The camper fills with the sounds of your collective noises. Joel is loud. Grunting and growling as he fully buries himself in your heat.

He scans your face for signs of distress, tears pricking the corners of your eyes, the tiniest sting from the stretch pulls a whine out of you but you only nod as he stares into your eyes.

“More, Joel.”

Once he has your approval he starts moving, setting a pace that for a few thrusts is slow before picking up. Quickly becoming downright brutal, every slam of his pelvis against yours drives his cock deeper into you. He feels as if he was made for this, he’s just big enough that it doesn’t hurt, simply an overwhelming feeling of fullness.

Your body begins to tense up all over again, you wrap your arms around his torso as much as you can in this position, scratching at his back. He leans forward, going in for a kiss before moving around your face, kissing your jaw, forehead, nose, and temples. When he kisses the apples of your cheeks you feel his tongue darting out.

Did he just lick up a tear?

He snaps his hips forward, disrupting your train of thought, his teeth barred as he does so, eyes fixed on every one of your reactions. He’s practically snarling as you let your head fall back against the mattress, the head of his cock driving into your g-spot.

“Wanna come again already, bunny?” You make a real spectacle of yourself, hooking your legs around his waist, trying to pull him in deeper. “Greedy little thing…”

“Joel please-”

“Joel please.” He mocks. “Is that all you can say now?” You keen softly but he only grins as you tighten around him.

“P-please…” You squeak out as he snaps hips forward once more.

“Come again, I wanna feel this pretty cunt come.” He snarls against your neck, leaving a trail of bites until he reaches your shoulder, a particularly harsh bite has you crying out.

“Joel!” You grit your teeth, a wave of heat washes over you as you come one last time, you feel his tongue dragging across the bite mark.

It’s all so close to being painful.

Your stomach aches from the overstimulation, and you register a faint stinging feeling when he laps at the bite. Your walls clench around him, strangling his cock, and his hands instantly leave your legs, gripping the sheets instead.

“Fuck, fuck.” He barely pulls out in time, coming on your stomach. You reach down in your haze, scooping some of his load onto your finger before sliding them between your lips.

Fucking salted caramel.

Sweet and sticky on your tongue.

He pants above you, watching with an intoxicated look as you dip your fingers into his cum over and over again until your stomach is bare.

He nudges his nose against yours, rubbing every part of his face against you for a few minutes. It’s wildly intimate and you're once again a little taken aback by his sudden tone shift.

“Was that okay?” He drawls, once again searching your face for any indication that you might not be.

You nod, beaming up at him and letting him rest the bridge of his nose on yours for a few moments more before you slip out of his arms, stepping into the bathroom. You relieve yourself before going to sort yourself out in the mirror.

You’re bleeding.

Where he bit you, two mirroring crescents, red and angry on your shoulder, leaking blood.

“Shit.” You grab a handful of toilet paper, wiping it clean before rinsing it in the sink and returning to him.

“Everything okay?” He’s pulled his boxers on, tossing you his shirt which you’re eager to put on. You don’t want him to see the bite.

“Everything’s fine.” You crawl back up into the bed beside him.

He stays the night, pulling you to his chest and caging you in with his arms.

And you aren’t haunted by dreams.

In the morning a part of you worries he’ll disappear all over again, you’re a little surprised when he texts you just a few minutes after he drives off. [ can’t wait to see you again soon bunny ]

Joel follows through on his promise.

A few days later he picks you up from work and drives you to the outlet mall about an hour away, saying he needs to get some stuff for Ellie as well. Apparently she likes to throw plates so he wants to find the kind that suction onto the table. As he drives the radio plays a country song you don’t recognize which he hums along to as you watch the trees outside the window.

“You know, I’ve been meaning to ask you about my aunt.” He turns the music down once you start speaking.

“Darlene? You probably know her better than I do.” He doesn’t seem very eager to talk about her but it only makes you want to know more.

“Doubt it. All I know about her is that she wasn’t close with anyone in my family.”

“You weren’t close? But she left you her camper.”

“That’s why I need to know anything you might know about her, I know nothing.” He seems hesitant and you’re worried if you keep pushing it he won’t tell you anything at all.

“She was a lonely old woman, had me fix things for her often, I honestly think she just wanted company.” His voice softens a bit as he says it.

“She didn’t have friends here in Honey?”

“Not that I know of, she was a bit of a shut in, sweetest woman I’ve ever met, just a bit… skittish. She worked from home and I’m pretty sure someone delivered her groceries. The only time I ever saw her outside was when I was fixing her roof and she sat in a lawn chair to talk to me while I did.”

“She worked from home?”

“Yeah, something on her laptop, I’m not entirely sure.” You’ve never seen a laptop.

You’ve been living in the camper for nearly six months and you’ve never seen a laptop.

But that’s not what interests you the most right now.

“What do you mean by skittish?” You’re trying to gauge his reaction but he doesn’t seem to have one.

“Maybe skittish isn’t the right word. Eccentric? Some of the kids in town called her ditzy Darlene.” His expression sours as he says it.

“That’s horrible.”

“It was.”

“Why?” He seems more reluctant than ever but now you’re just upset on behalf of the woman who left you everything.

“She fed into a lot of the legends around town, and didn't seem to have any hobbies outside of monster hunting.”

“Monster hunting?”

“She was the only local who went to the gift shops, searching for a monster she swears she saw.”

Sounds familiar.

“Did she ever find any?”

“Monsters?” He laughs. “Not that I know of.”

“Did you think she was crazy?”

“I think she was lonely, and I think when you spend that much time alone your mind can wander.”

“But did you think she was crazy?”

“No.” He puts an end to the conversation by putting the truck in park. You hadn’t even realized you were there, the outlet mall is so small. His southern manners remain persistent as he jogs around the truck to open your door for you, holding onto you to provide balance as you hop out.

You aren’t sure where anything is so you just follow him, taking his hand in yours as you walk. He takes you into a clothing store you don’t recognize the name of and waits patiently as you try on a few different pairs of jeans. It’s been quite some time since you’ve bought new clothes so you get a few pairs, you’re worried it’s boring for him to just wait outside the changing room but when you walk out with three pairs slung over your arm he still looks happy as can be. When you go to pay he opens his wallet, silencing your protests with a reminder that it’s his fault you needed new jeans in the first place.

After that he takes his time, the two of you walk hand in hand through each store, he doesn’t even look around most of them, seemingly content with just spending time with you.

He manages to find a few rubber bowls with suction cup bottoms for Ellie as well as some spanish flashcards and you decide to get a pair of blue hiking boots, if you’re gonna be walking everywhere you might as well be comfortable.

At the last store you stop at you find a nice perfume, spraying a bit into the air and inhaling. It reminds you of springtime, it’s light, floral, but when Joel catches a whiff of it he scrunches his nose up.

“You don’t like it?” You set the bottle back down.

“I like the way you smell now.” You frown, trying to remember what shampoo and body wash you’ve been using. If you recall correctly it’s just some generic brand you’d bought ages ago.

“I didn’t know you spoke spanish?” You remark, pointing at the bag containing the cards, opting to just change the subject rather than give yourself a headache trying to remember.

“I don’t, but Sarah does and she’s been insisting I teach Ellie while she’s gone, something about it being better if she’s bilingual.”

“I think that’s sweet.” You swing your arms a bit, keeping his hand in yours as he walks you out of the store and in the direction of the truck.

“Of course you think it’s sweet, you're not the one with two daughters who will be using their secret language against you.” He takes his keys from his pocket, clicking the unlock button.

“It’s not a secret language, if your baby can learn it then I’m sure you can.” He helps you up into the truck once more, shutting the door behind you.

It’s almost comically difficult to keep your hands off him when you’re alone, especially now that you have a taste for him. Even just being in the truck with the windows up is suffocating, the smell of his aftershave or his laundry detergent drives you mad the moment you’re stuck in an enclosed space with him.

You slide across the truck so you’re in the middle seat as he pulls out of the parking lot. It’s like you feel sick when you aren’t touching him, like you’re suffering from this barely noticeable nausea and you don’t realize you were even dealing with it until it’s gone.

You watch curiously as he keeps one hand on the wheel and brings the other to rest on your thigh. His shoulders relax the moment he does, his frown lines smooth themselves out a bit.

He’s just so warm, and he’s so nice to be near. Today he smells like a candle you used to have, something you lit around Christmas time. He smells like cookies and peppermint.

You can’t help but turn your head a bit, trying to discreetly inhale the scent of his jacket.

To say that Joel Miller becomes the perfect boyfriend would be an understatement.

He drives you to work, he sends you flowers, (which gets confusing in a funeral home.) he holds open doors, and he always texts you back.

Quite literally everything gets better once he’s back in your life.

You don’t get anymore mangled bodies, only a few from the nursing home and one from a nearby hospital, it’s mostly just funeral planning these days. You see Joel daily, Maria and Tommy seem a little surprised every time he dotes on you and you can’t help but wonder what he’s done to earn such a reaction, but he’s so sweet you hardly care. Between both of you working and him having a toddler you’re shocked he makes as much time for you as he does. You see him every morning when he takes you into work but he also insists on seeing you twice a week, whether it’s going out, or ordering in, or just dragging him into your bed, he always makes time for you.

You even spend a little time with Ellie. Joel spends a lot of time with her at the funeral home so you often see her in little doses, she seems indifferent towards you which worries you until you realize she acts that way towards everyone but her father. It’s remarkable to watch him with her, he’s soft with you but with her it’s something else entirely. She sticks to him like glue and you’ve never once seen him look bothered by that fact, you assume she’d get bored just sitting in his arms but she never does. He likes to tell her jokes and you aren’t even sure she understands them but without fail she bursts into a fit of giggles every time he gets to the punchline.

It’s good with him, everything is easier. Everything just sort of makes sense with Joel and for the first time in a long time everything feels right.

Until the morning you wake up, a sticky feeling between your legs and an ache in your belly.

“Shit.” You roll out of bed, quickly shedding your clothes, tossing them into the laundry bin before texting Joel.

[ hot date idea for us, you drive me to the laundromat and then watch me do my laundry ]

Setting your phone down you hop into the shower, washing away the blood with a groan, you spend far too long under the water, when you finally step out and check your phone you’re running late, you pull open the curtains a bit to see if Joel’s already waiting for you but much to your confusion you aren’t met with the familiar sight of the truck.

You had never really discussed him driving you to work; it was just something he’d started doing, you probably shouldn’t have expected it to be a permanent thing.

You haphazardly pull yourself together, tossing on whatever looks clean before grabbing your phone and bag, rushing out the door.

The cool morning air stings your face as you quickly walk down the familiar gravel driveway towards the home, you’re already preparing your excuse for why you’re so late but Maria doesn’t even notice as you step into the office, she’s busy on a call.

You recognize the look on her face, she’s talking to a family. You step inside, taking a seat in one of the chairs across from her desk as you wait. She seems to be at the end of the conversation.

You couldn’t be more grateful that she takes care of telling the families. You’ve never been good at that kind of thing. She hangs up with a gentle, goodbye, smiling up at you as you try and imagine a situation in which your job was to deliver such terrible news.

The ache in your stomach snaps you back to reality.

Fuck. You forgot to bring anything.

“Any chance you have a pad?” You give her an apologetic look.

Based on her expression you’d think you’d just asked her for a lung. Several emotions flash across her face in an instant, but mostly she looks like someone who just solved a riddle that had been plaguing them for quite some time. She snaps out of it quickly though, giving you a curt nod.

“Of course, let me just run upstairs.”

It’s an older man, graying and wearing what is obviously hiking gear.

Poor guy.

He’s torn apart, the worst you’ve seen so far, his limbs have all been individually torn off, they lay, separated from the rest of him on the table.

It’s an open casket so you’re gonna be down here all day.

You text Joel one last time before setting your phone down.

[ gonna be pretty busy all day, got another bear attack, i’ll call you when i’m on my way home. ]

With that you get to work, putting on your gown and gloves, and starting at the torn clothes. It’s hard to figure out where his clothes start and his skin ends with the condition his body is in but you manage to cut him out of everything so you can properly assess the damage.

You’re getting used to seeing these messy wounds, the sight of torn flesh. It should be a pretty easy job all things considered. He’ll be in a suit so you’ll just reattach everything and no one will ever have to see the extent of his wounds.

You check everything twice, making sure that you’ve got the left and right correct before you start sewing things back up. You try to mimic the way you saw Maria do it, careful and practiced stitches.

You finish the legs easily enough, both had been ripped off just above the knee, you’re about to start on the arms when you drop the needle in surprise.

How didn’t you realize this before?

You’ve been preparing these bodies for weeks now and you’ve never once noticed one harrowing detail. You’re used to tending to bodies that have already seen a pathologist. Bodies with their organs in a bag, with their blood drained, ready to be prepared for a funeral or cremation. And you’ve been so focused on doing a good job to impress Maria that you’ve failed to take note of the most obvious thing before you.

There’s no blood.

None of the bodies you’ve tended to from the bear attacks have blood, all of their organs remain intact but because Maria declares cause of death you know she doesn’t drain them. You’ve drained everyone who hasn’t been sent in from a bear attack.

Maybe Maria drained them before you got in.

But that isn’t possible, you know that, you’d have seen the equipment, and you’ve gotten bodies straight from the scene, already drained.

You reach over to grab a scalpel off the table.

You shouldn’t do this. You could probably be fired for it, but as long as no one finds out you’ll be fine. All the damage to this cadaver has been done to its limbs, so hypothetically, if you were to slice open his chest you would see blood, dried or otherwise.

So you do just that.

You carve out a small, clean, incision vertically on his sternum.

Nothing.

You’ve got a pen flashlight that you shine into his chest cavity only to find his organs. Dry.

He’s been completely drained of his blood.

You stitch him up quickly, finishing the job as swiftly as possible before running up the stairs, mumbling a rushed excuse to Maria before running the entire way home.

Joel doesn’t text you back.

This isn’t happening, not again, he wouldn’t do this again.

You feel like you’re gonna be sick.

An image flashes through your mind.

Joel.

Lips curled back in a snarl.

No. That wasn’t real, it was just a dream. Although the line between the two has been getting blurrier.

Joel isn’t out there draining people of their blood, that’s absurd, even if he goes missing and those dates happen to coincide with the days that you get bloodless corpses.

It’s a coincidence.

Or it isn’t.

Maybe for one second you should just let yourself consider the possibility that something is terribly wrong.

You thoroughly check the two bodies you get the next day.

They come in together, a couple from out of state hiking in the park. Neither one of them bleeds.

The day after that you wake up early and walk to the funeral home as the sun rises. You watch the hearse wheel in the body, and you make sure you’re the first person to see her.

A tragically beautiful woman who appears to be in her late forties, maybe early fifties.

None of her wounds are bloody, and when you open her chest cavity it’s like someone drank her insides with a straw.

You’re nearly at your breaking point, nothing you’re looking at makes any sense.

You spend that night in bed, unable to sleep as you try and figure out what the hell is going on.

Joel doesn’t answer your calls.

He doesn’t respond to your several angry texts.

And something deep down within you tells you that asking Maria would be a mistake.

You’re completely alone on this.

So you call Maria and you tell her that you’re sick and won’t be in tomorrow. Then you look up the bus schedule in and out of town.

The bus comes in and out of Honey twice, every other day. Lucky for you, today is one of the days the bus will be there in the morning, and return in the evening.

The bus stop is empty when you arrive, the misty morning air clings to your skin as you stare out into the surrounding forest.

Something is out there.

And you’re gonna find out what it is.

You can’t keep being afraid, this is your home now, and you won’t be driven away by some imaginary monster.

It starts to drizzle when you look out the window of the bus, watching Honey disappear behind you.

You have a plan.

Well sort of.

You’re going to find some literature on the subject. You’re sick of feeling crazy so you’re going to prove yourself right. Something is very wrong in Honey, and monster or not, you’re going to figure it out.

You don’t catch the name of the town you end up in, you just get off at the stop that looks the most tourist friendly, assuming that there has to be a book store somewhere in town.

You only have to walk main street for a few minutes before you find it.

It’s a quaint little shop tucked in between an attorney's office and a gift shop.

Betty’s Books

Dimly lit and jam packed wall to wall with books, a small elderly woman sits behind the counter, reading a Stephen King novel.

“Excuse me?” You clear your throat as she looks up at you over her wiry glasses.

“How can I help you?” Her smile is warm, it fills the entire shop with an aura of comfort.

You’re going to sound ridiculous. And the moment you do this you’ll be speaking it into existence.

You don’t have any other options.

“Do you have anything on local urban legends?” You try not to sound too ashamed but her smile never falters as she points.

“Back left corner, dear.”

“Thank you.”

“Let me know if you need anything else.” She’s already buried her nose back in her book before you turn towards the rest of the shop.

You begin searching the shelves for anything that could possibly help you, there’s several different books on bigfoot and the loch ness monster. There are a lot of empty spaces between books and you have to assume that this is what most tourists are buying.

People in search of ghosts and myths.

Are you any better than them?

Running out into the darkness, looking for a monster you very well may have made up.

You look through a few more options before finally settling on a thick, leather bound book, you pull it from its place and stare down at the embossed cover.

A Beginners Guide to Cryptozoology : West Virginian Monsters

You aren’t going to find a better place to start.

You move back towards the front, stopping in front of the children's section.

Lullabies & Poems for Bedtime

A rabbit with a pocket watch, asleep under a tree, adorns the cover.

Ellie might like that.

Even if you’re madder than hell at her father.

You grab the little white book, setting both onto the counter, paying before stepping out into the rain. You’ve got hours until the bus back to Honey returns so you quickly make your way to a diner across the street, keeping the books tucked into your jacket.

A little bell chimes as you push the door open, sitting yourself at one of the free booths you set the books down on the table.

The waitress brings you coffee and water as you set your jacket aside, you order a plate of fries just to give you something to do as you watch the rain on the diner windows for a bit.

Eventually you know you can’t put it off anymore so you open up the book and sit back, taking care to read every single page, not wanting to miss a thing.

The first thing you learn is that there are a startling number of unnamed monsters.

It covers the basics in the first few chapters, mothman, bigfoot, chupacabra, and werewolves, but the second half of the book is entirely monsters with no names, only ink drawing accompanying the descriptions. For a while you find nothing, eventually ordering a milkshake which you sip as you skim the pages.

After two hours you’re about to give up when you stumble across a page that finally shows something familiar.

A drawing of a body, mangled, with wounds you recognize.

Five slashes across the chest, both arms completely torn off.

This creature is thought to reside only in heavily wooded areas, it was speculated to be located in the southern United States for several decades before disappearing completely.

Since then people have claimed to have seen this creature in many different locations although the majority seem to be centralized to the east coast of North America, resembling a lich, or a wendigo.

When you turn the page the illustration of the monster stares back at you.

It’s hard to make out what’s what and it looks mostly like inky scribbles but within those lines you see the creature you’ve been imagining. Long, sharp limbs, massive shoulders, and a face almost reminiscent of a humans, everything is just… distorted.

While technically unnamed, there are many unique pieces of folklore attached to this specific creature. Witnesses claim to have seen this monster transform from human to creature and vice versa, as if they walk among us in their free time.

What sets the creature apart from many other creatures of this variety is their affinity for humans. More often than not we’ve gotten reports of these creatures seeking out human mates.

We have several different claims from people saying they’ve seen the transformation happen right before their very eyes. One man claimed to have watched his sister in law turn at Thanksgiving dinner. Another says that he saw a cousin's boyfriend disappear into the woods during a wedding, transforming into a beast as he did.

According to old legends there is thought to be a connection between these creatures and their mates, quite literally bonding them in blood. The males are believed to be linked to their human mates menstrual cycles; if they have one, the females are linked to their own. There are many different descriptions of what this means for human mates. Some believe that when this creature comes in contact with their mate that they permanently revert to their human forms. Others believe they’re hunger for flesh only grows after coming in contact with them.

But most believe that they eat their mate. Plain and simple. That their blood is more potent to them than anyone else’s, so much so that any love they may harbor for them is irrelevant, they are simply blinded by their bloodlust.

Its victims often resemble that of an animal attack. Bodies torn apart, mangled, often believers of this legend are ‘disproven’ because of this fact, but there is always one thing that separates this creature's kills from that of an animal. Animals who eat their victims will do exactly that, eat them, this creature does no such thing, while it does massacre its victims it will rarely consume its flesh, preferring the taste of blood.

There have been no confirmed sightings of these creatures and we have been unable to trace its origins or obtain any photographic evidence, maybe it really is just an animal.

Monster or bear? It’s up to you.

It’s up to you.

You slam the book shut.

It’s nonsense.

Joel isn’t some blood drinking, period monster. But you came all this way, looking for a monster, and seemingly you’ve found it.

You pick up the little book for Ellie, taking a sip of your coffee.

Maybe it’ll make you feel better.

You open it to find a familiar little song on the inside of the cover.

I know you,

I walked with you once upon a dream.

You flip through it, mostly admiring the beautiful illustrations, they look like watercolors. There’s a frog with a crown, princesses with flowing gowns and witches grinning up at you from the pages. It isn’t until some random page in the middle that you actually stop to read the poem. The drawing accompanying this one isn’t colorful, only black ink, a drastic change from everything so far.

Jabberwocky

By: Lewis Carroll

It unsettles you to look at so you focus on the words instead. You know this creature, it’s from Alice in Wonderland. The poem is whimsical, you can imagine a child finding it rather entertaining should a parent read it with enthusiasm. You don’t have a parent reading it to you though, you’re alone, staring at the lines that have caught your eye.

Beware the Jabberwock, my son!

The jaws that bite, the claws that catch!

No more books today.

When you check your phone there are no new notifications. So Joel is either a terrible boyfriend or a potential murderer.

How comforting.

Fuck it.

You click on his contact.

[ TEXT ME BACK RIGHT NOW. OR WE’RE THROUGH. ]

Monsters aren’t real.

Joel Miller is just the worst boyfriend (soon to be ex-boyfriend) on the planet.

It doesn’t help that you catch a glimpse of a tampon wrapper in your bag when you throw your phone back into it.

It’s a coincidence.

You can’t say anything to anyone about this, how would it look if ditzy Darlene’s niece showed up and started spinning stories of her own? You can’t do it, you know exactly what people would say. They’d say it ran in the family and they’d find a reason to be cruel to her even in death.

So you take the bus home in silence.

For the next few days barely speak to Maria other than polite greetings, you’re certain she doesn’t notice, both of you are swamped. You’ve got a body everyday the rest of the week and she’s up to her neck in paperwork.

And Joel never texts.

Maria’s juggling Ellie and trying to fill out papers when you get in the next morning.

“Thank god you’re here, can you run upstairs and grab something for me, there’s a little makeup bag on the counter in the bathroom, I forgot it earlier and I’m waiting on a phone call regarding the couple we had.”

“Of course.” You set your things down before reaching for Ellie. “Here, let me take her so you can do that.”

“You’re a lifesaver, thank you.” Almost as if on cue the phone rings the moment she says it. You head towards the stairs, the toddler in your arms scrunches up her face as if trying to recall your identity.

“You know me, silly, I’m friends with your daddy.” At the mention of her father she seems to relax and you open the door at the top of the stairs.

You’ve never actually been in this part of the house before, you’ve always stayed in the business section. You don’t get a chance to look around, the bathroom is the first door on your left. A bag the size of a pencil box is on the counter, you hand it to Ellie, her little hands play with the bag as you carefully bounce her in your arms.

“Do you know where your daddy is?” You poke her in the belly making her smile at you for the first time. “Not gonna snitch?” You tickle her side, earning a tiny giggle. You let her play with the zipper as you bring her back downstairs. “Any bodies today?” You yell as you descend the stairs.

“Had a cremation from the home this morning, I’ve just got a lot of papers, I’m planning six funerals simultaneously right now.”

Six massacred corpses in six days.

“Where’s Tommy?” Ellie puts up a bit of a fight for the bag but you set it down on the desk just in time to watch Marias grip on her pen tighten.

Yikes. Must be a sore spot right now.

“He’s got a work thing, left me with that little monster.” She uses the pen to point at the toddler who’s already starting to get antsy in your arms.

If you’ve got no bodies today you might as well offer to help.

“I can watch Ellie if you’d like.”

“Really? You don’t mind?”

“Of course not, want me to keep her upstairs? I’m sure you don’t want me watching her in the basement.” You laugh a little as she nods.

“You really are a lifesaver, I don’t know how I managed without you.”

“Oh stop, you clearly did just fine before I came along.” Your face gets a bit hot at the compliment.

“I’ll be up in a few hours once I finish up here, you two have fun.” She doesn’t give any instruction beyond that so you just take Ellie back upstairs. You haven’t spent much time with her beyond the small interactions in passing but you know she doesn’t like doing nothing unless it’s with Joel. She’s trying to get out of your arms the second you’re at the top of the stairs. You set her down in the entryway and she’s already running into the kitchen.

You don’t want to snoop but you actually get to take a good look around as Ellie settles in front of a pile of notebooks and a mess of crayons on the kitchen floor. It’s a pretty open floor plan, the kitchen and living room are all one big room and from the looks of it they must watch Ellie often, an outsider would assume they have a child of their own. A play pen is set up on the floor of the living room and toys are scattered everywhere.

“Are you hungry, sweetie? Do you want something to eat?” There’s different snacks on the counter as you walk over to where she’s playing.

“Yes please.” Her voice is clear and high pitched, you’re actually a little surprised, you didn’t even know she could talk, she’s always silent when you’re around. There’s an assortment of different things on the counter so you just find something that’s already open. Handing her a little container of apple puffs, she doesn’t look up from her drawings, just blindly reaching over and grabbing a handful as you sit at the counter to watch over her.

She’s a very well behaved baby all things considered.

You have to stop her from drawing on the walls a few times and at one point she stuffed a handful of food between the couch cushions but other than that she’s rather relaxed. She sits and draws mostly, only occasionally getting up and doing a few laps around the room before returning to her papers.

At one point she makes her way to where you’re sitting, slapping your leg to get your attention until you pick her up, she points to the window above the sink and when you take her there she simply stares out at the trees.

She’s focused on the woods as you watch her expression, her face is oddly serious.

After a few minutes you set her down, unease filling your body. She doesn’t seem to mind though as she runs back to her drawings, you return to the counter, checking your phone for a few minutes until she appears in your peripherals once more, tapping your leg again, handing you one of her drawings.

At several different moments this week you’ve thought that you’ve reached your breaking point.

None of those compare to how you feel when you pick up the paper Ellie had been scribbling on.

It’s crude and mostly indiscernible but you know exactly what you’re looking at.

A monster.

A broad shouldered, sharp toothed, crayon monster.

You stare at the little girl, trying to keep your composure as you pick her up, setting her in your lap and pointing at the mess of scribbles on the page.

You feel crazier than ever, asking a toddler for help but no one else is around and you’re running out of options.

“Can you tell me what that is, sweetie? What did you draw?” You hand her the drawing back which she crumples a bit in her fist before setting it on the counter, you point again at the creature. “Ellie, honey, can you tell me what this is please?” You’re doing your best to keep calm as she kicks her legs a bit before staring up at you with a frown.

“Daddy?” For someone so small she speaks so loudly and clearly, but you just shake your head.

“I know, honey, you want your daddy, I wish I knew where he was but you’re stuck with me today.” You smooth out her hair a bit as she scrunches up her face, looking rather upset.

“Tío.” She points down at the drawing before looking back at you for approval, you just smile. You feel like an idiot. Asking a child for help. A child who can barely speak.

“It’s okay, you’re too little to understand.” You hold her under one arm as you walk around the counter to the fridge. “How about I get you some juice.”

You find a clean sippy cup, pouring her some apple juice before setting her back down, handing her the cup and searching through your bag.

“I almost forgot, I got you a present.” She perks up immediately, setting her cup down as you hold the little white book out towards her.

“Thanks!” Her eyes light up as she takes it from you, it’s one of the few times you’ve seen her smile without her father being in the room, sitting on the floor before looking back up at you, tapping the spot next to her until you sit as well.

“Do you want me to read it to you?” You watch as she sets it down in front of her, she’s surprisingly gentle as she flips open the cover.

“No thank you.” She’s enraptured by the illustrations, not caring for the text, laying down on her stomach, and sitting up on her elbows as she slowly flips through the pages, her eyes wide as she points out everything she sees to you. You rub her back, nodding along, you’re mostly just happy that she’s excited.

She kicks her feet as she explains the big red bird on the page to you. After a few more minutes of her babbling she turns the page again.

Jabberwocky

She giggles wildly as she points at the page and suddenly you’re filled with dread all over again. She’s positively captivated by the drawing, refusing to turn to a different page when you urge her to move on.

You don’t speak again until Maria comes upstairs to check on her, when you do it’s to tell her you aren’t feeling well, and you’re going home.

You’re going on a monster hunt.

There’s nothing left to do. You need to soothe your fears before you lose it completely and you aren’t going to stare at the trees and wonder for the rest of your life.

You stop at one of the tourist traps in town, you need supplies for tonight.

A camera.

It’s an easy in and out stop. You buy a polaroid camera, and several packs of film.

No one will believe you otherwise, you’ll be ridiculed the same way they did Darlene. You think of her as you walk back home, what if she was right about everything? She spent her life in fear of a monster no one believed in and they mocked her for it, and at the end of the day she might have been right.

Maybe the monster is real and it isn’t Joel.

Either way you’re going into the woods tonight. Your backpack is packed with the essentials, your water bottle, camera, an extra film pack, one of the knives from the kitchen (wrapped in a towel,) and a flashlight.

Once you’re packed you put your boots and jacket on and head out.

It’s like everything quiets down the moment you step outside. The forest hums, beckoning you in, and how could you refuse such an offer?

You manage to keep your hands steady as you flip the switch on your flashlight, stepping into the trees. It feels so much colder now than it did when you were walking home.

With dusk settling the sun is no longer there to keep you warm or to guide your way. You haven’t actually seen much of the forest, so you decide to walk in a straight line to avoid getting lost as you carefully step over a tangle of roots. As a child you loved nothing more than playing in the woods behind your house. But after just half an hour in these woods you suddenly resent the trees, they no longer bring you any comfort as you carry on into the cold dark night. You’re just about to give up and turn back around when suddenly something changes.

Without warning and with seemingly no cause you feel a chill rush through your body, your hair standing on end. Your blood runs cold and you hear a sound you’re all too familiar with at this point.

The tearing sound rips through the air.

Your instincts tell you that you’ve become prey rather suddenly in this situation but you can’t turn back now, not when you can prove to yourself that you aren’t losing it.

As quietly as possible you reach back into your pack, grabbing the camera already loaded with film and holding it in your free hand. The beam coming from your flashlight trembles slightly as you carry on towards the noise.

It’s louder than it ever was in the dreams. In the dreams it was subdued, almost as if you subconsciously knew that it couldn’t hurt you. As you carry onward you can’t help but wonder if you’re just imagining it at this point. It doesn’t seem to get louder as you walk. It simply fills the air completely, you’re being directed purely by your instincts. You know it’s this way as you move forward a few more steps.

You scan the trees with your light, seeing nothing out of the ordinary until you finally see it. Your finger instinctively flips off your flashlight.

You almost didn’t catch it.

But your legs keep moving and you get closer and closer to the hunched figure.

It’s hard to describe, like your eyes don’t want to accept what you’re seeing. A voice in the back of your mind tells you that you’re getting too close but you can’t seem to stop yourself as you carry on until you can get a good look at it.

You can’t help but breathe a sigh of relief as you realize it isn’t Joel. But that relief only lasts a moment as you see what you’re actually dealing with.

You aren’t sure how big it is. It’s big. That much is clear but it’s crouched down, it’s almost human, it may have once been human. You’re having trouble making out most of it in only the moonlight. It’s less broad than the illustrations you’ve seen, almost slim, with how close you are now you can see that it’s eating.

A buck, one of the biggest ones you’ve ever seen is splayed out across some rocks. It’s stomach has been ripped open. You watch, with morbid fascination as it digs its maw deeper into the gore.

How curious, it’s wearing clothes. Or at least the remains of some clothing, a bit of fabric clings to its crooked spine, it wears the tattered collar of a shirt like a necklace. Navy blue sweatpants stretch around the creature's waist, the fabric pulled taut, it looks like they make it just past its knees. The elastic around the ankles has snapped.

The funniest part of all of this is that you feel nothing but fear for the creature. You aren’t disgusted and you certainly don’t hate it. You’re just afraid, so afraid that before you can slap your hand over your mouth you burst into a peal of laughter.

Fuck.

It all happens so fast, you aren’t ready in the slightest to be face to face with it and suddenly you are, purely on instinct your hand twitches and with the flash of the camera you get a single moment to stare at it.

It’s so close to being human.

It’s mouth is too big, a blood soaked tongue falling past a row of jagged, pointed teeth. It’s almost like someone stretched out a person's face like it was made of clay. And it’s male. Intricate branching horns stretch out from under the hair crowning its head.

“The doe’s don’t have antlers.”

Your dad was a hunter, you know your antlers, you aren’t exactly sure but if it was a deer it would be a thirteen pointer. You should run, you’re about to but then you finally look it in the eye, just as the final remnants of the camera flash flicker out.

There is something worse than hunger, or thirst, or rage in its eyes, if that was all there was you could scream or cry. But this leaves you frozen in place.

Recognition.

Like it knows you.

And the moment it recognizes you it snarls, an ear-piercing sound that rips through the quiet of the forest, blood spewing from its maw at you, flecks of crimson tint your clothes and hands as your eyes go wide.

It’s a good thing your legs move faster than your brain, you’re already sprinting away from the creature.

You lose your flashlight almost immediately but you know where you’re going, you couldn’t be more thankful for your decision to go in a straight line. You don’t stop moving, running blindly back the way you came, never once daring to look behind you.

You know it’s there, you can hear it, and you can feel it.

Its breath is hot on your heels, you can hear the branches splintering directly behind you. Everything is a blur, stray branches sting your exposed skin but you don’t stop, you can’t, your muscles ache as you push onward, keeping your hands out in front of you to guide you through the darkness until you finally see the road up ahead.

You’re nearly there, almost feeling relief, almost.

An icy hand wraps around your ankle, you’re yanked backwards before you can process what’s going on, your back dragging across the forest floor and in an instant you’re beneath it.

This is it.

You wanted a monster, you got one. And now you’re going to die for it. It snarls as its maw falls open, you’re face to face with a row of shimmering, gore smeared teeth. This is it.

He smells like cinnamon.

It tilts its head ninety degrees, its jaw closing in on your throat as you close your eyes, tears now flow freely down your face and finally you can’t contain your terror anymore.

You scream.

A trembling shriek falling from your lips and much to your confusion a killing blow never comes. After one more shuddering breath you open your eyes only to find you’re just staring up at the trees. You sit up, still out of breath.

He’s a few feet away now.

Thrashing around frantically as he stumbles backwards. As if your scream had upset him. He bellows, his twisted hands clutching his skull like he’s angry with himself. You cover your ears instinctively when it snarls in pain.

He can’t help it.

You’re scrambling to your feet once more, giving him one final glance, you look into each other's eyes.

“Run.”

It speaks.

You break into a sprint once more, not daring to stop until your feet touch pavement. You don’t get the sense that you’re being followed anymore but you’re still in shambles. The adrenaline is slowly starting to fizzle out and you’re painfully aware of the wound you sustained during that encounter. Your ankle is torn up, two deep gashes from where it grabbed you are bleeding an alarming amount. You stumble, the sight of it making you nauseous.

You get a moment's respite and you manage to compose yourself enough to retrieve your phone from your pocket. Walking backwards, keeping your eyes on the forest as you slowly continue to back away. In your desperation your blood stained fingertips frantically swipe across your phone screen, you don’t realize until it’s too late that you’re calling the only person who isn’t going to answer.

Yet when you bring the phone to your ear you hear a click.

“Joel?” You can’t fucking believe it. He actually picked up.

“Sweetheart? Are you okay?” He can definitely hear the panic in your voice.

You just break down.

“I’m by the road, on the way from Maria’s to my camper, I- I need you to come get me, please, it’s- it’s following me, but I think I lost it please, Joel.” You’re in hysterics as you catch a glimpse of one of the few streetlights down the road. You hear the sound of keys and you swear you hear Maria saying something in the background but you’re too frenzied to focus on that.

“Who’s following you? Stay right there m’on my way.” You can hear the truck starting in the background as you keep running, not daring to stop even though it doesn’t feel like you’re being pursued anymore.

“The monster… in the woods… it’s not a bear Joel.” You’re out of breath when you finally stop, standing in the middle of the road underneath the street lamp, spinning around to try and somehow keep an eye on all of the darkness around you.

“Stay where you are, I’ll be there in two minutes, okay? Stay right where you are.” You’re about to beg him to hurry when the line goes dead.

You must look like a mad woman. Standing in the middle of the street, covered in blood, and spinning in circles to try and keep an eye on every single direction as you listen for any signs of movement.

Your heartbeat never slows, you can hear it pounding in the crushing silence that surrounds you.

It only takes a few minutes before you see headlights approaching in the distance. You don’t even let the truck come to a full stop as you open the door and jump in, closing it behind you as you scramble towards Joel as if he could protect you from the goliath you saw in the darkness.

“Drive! Now Joel, go!” You yell as he accelerates just to the point of following the speed limit as he heads towards your camper.

“Bunny, please, calm down.” He wraps the hand that isn’t on the steering wheel around you but you shove him off, sliding back to the other side of the truck.

“Don’t tell me to calm down, Joel, not after what I just went through, I saw it, a real monster grabbed me.” You’re stumbling over your words, trying to get them out as quickly as possible.

“Slow down, just tell me what happened.”

“I told you on the phone, I just found a fucking monster, Joel, that’s what happened.”

He’s gone silent now.

He probably thinks you’re crazy.

That’s fine. You know you aren’t, you saw it, watched it feed. There’s deer blood on your boots.

“You didn’t see a monster.” When you look he’s shaking worse than you are. You don’t dare turn your head further but you watch in your peripheral as he grips the steering wheel, his knuckles going white.

He’s lying.

Why would he lie?

“I did, I took a-.” You reach into your bag and your stomach fills with dread as you realize you dropped the camera.

“You didn’t. You’ve been spending too much time alone, and you shouldn’t be going out in the woods by yourself to begin with.”

“And who’s fault is it that I’ve been alone?” You snap.

He doesn’t have a response to that. And you don’t have anything else to say, not like he’d believe you if you did. You should probably break up with him, for several reasons.

Except you can’t.

If you do, how will you stop people from being needlessly murdered? He may not be the monster, but he knows something, and you need to find out what it is.

So you’ll ‘forgive’ him. Again. Because you need to get to the bottom of this.

And maybe, despite it all, you’re still terribly attached to him. He keeps disappearing, without warning and with halfhearted excuses as to why and all you can think about right now is how badly you missed him, and how badly you need him.

“Does Tommy have Ellie tonight?” You mumble, trying not to sound too irritated.

“I was stopping in to see her before leaving her with Maria for the night when you called.”

“Why?”

“I was gonna come over here and apologize.” He sounds just as sincere as he did last time but you still scoff.

“What’s the excuse this time?” When you turn to scowl at him he looks guilty.

“I was out of town on a work trip.”

“And you couldn’t answer your phone.”

“I forgot my charger at home.”

It’s a preconceived lie. You’re certain of it based on how quick he replies, and it’s not even a good one. He could have borrowed a coworker's phone or bought a new charger; it wouldn't have been difficult. But he doesn’t want you to know where he really was.

Every bit of this confuses you.

You saw something in the woods, but it wasn’t Joel? Joel was with Ellie and then he was with you, he couldn’t have been slaughtering lost hikers. It doesn’t make sense. One thing is for certain though, and it’s that you can’t break up with Joel until you know what's going on or more people are going to be killed by that thing you saw in the woods. You aren’t really sure what to call it, but you know that you found the thing that’s been killing.

And he knows something about it.

He had no reason to get as rattled as he did if he didn't know something about what you saw. So you can’t break up with him, not until you figure this all out. Until then you just have to play the part of a clueless, loving girlfriend. Which shouldn’t be too hard considering the fact that for some reason there is still a sick and twisted attraction to him despite everything you know, settling in your stomach. You bite your tongue, going the rest of the short drive in silence. When he finally pulls up to the camper the engine goes quiet as he turns the key. You had no intention of inviting him in but you won’t stop him if he follows.

You slam the truck door shut, stomping up to the door, his footsteps following close behind.

“Let’s talk about this.” He reaches for your arm as you’re unlocking the door but you just shove him off. You leave it open, kicking your shoes off as you slip out of your jacket as you flip on the lights.

“I don’t want to talk.” He shuts the door behind him, you note that he locks it behind him.

How presumptuous.

Correct, but presumptuous.

“You’re clearly upset, bunny.” He kneels down, untying his own boots before kicking them off. You glare down at him until he stands, trying to pull you into his arms but you just shove him away again. His eyes go wide as he takes you in.

Based on his reaction you really must be quite a sight.

“Jesus, you’re a mess.” He looks genuinely concerned but you brush it off.

“Thanks.” You scoff but when you look down you realize you’ve been leaving a trail of blood in your wake.

“Do you have a first aid kit?” You should send him away. Tend to yourself and go to bed, but instead you just point to the cabinet containing the kit, sitting on the table as he retrieves it, tossing it down beside you. He doesn’t ask what happened, grimacing as he lifts your leg to examine your ankle.

He doesn’t need to ask, he knows what happened.

He tends to your wounds in silence. You wince as he wipes the lacerations on your ankle, they look bad enough that you consider just going to the hospital but he doesn’t seem too worried. They’re just shallow enough that you don’t think you’ll need stitches.

You don’t watch as he sprays it with antiseptic, quickly wrapping it in a layer of gauze and then bandages.

When he’s finished you’re ready to get angry with him all over again but the moment you open your mouth to yell at him he grabs you by the chin, taking a clean piece of gauze and gently dabbing the thin cuts that litter your face.

You stare up at the ceiling light, refusing to meet his gaze.

He tends to every one of them, taking extra care as he smears ointment on each one. When he’s finished he takes anything bloodied and gathers it in his hand, standing to toss them into the bin under the sink. You don’t turn, but out of the corner of your eye you see him bring his hand to his mouth.

Your blood.

He tasted your blood.

You can feel the bile rising in your throat but you just swallow it back down.

“Now we can talk.” He makes his way back over to you but you just shake your head.

“I already told you, I don’t wanna talk.”

“Bunny-” He takes another step towards you.

“Shut up.”

“Don’t be like that.” There’s real remorse in his eyes, you might even feel bad if you didn’t know that he was lying to you.

“Shut. Up.” You push him so he stumbles back onto the bed. “I’m not crazy.” He props himself up on his elbows to look at you as you say it.

“I know.” He sounds almost apologetic.

“Take your clothes off.” You mumble, already tossing your shirt to the side.

“Are you sure?”

You’re sure that he knows what’s out there in the woods and he isn’t telling you.

“I am.” You kick your jeans off to emphasize your point. You know he won’t deny you this. Whatever sick, unexplainable force pulls you into his arms affects him as it does you. You don’t just want him, you need him.

You hadn’t realized it until he’d disappeared again, but now you couldn’t be more aware. It’s as if your entire life you’ve felt wrong. You’ve been in a state of discomfort for as long as you can remember, like a vital part of you was missing. But you got used to it, and you learned to live with the odd sensation of never feeling like you're in the right place, nowhere ever felt like home.

Joel feels like home, in a sort of twisted way.

From the moment you first saw him everything cleared up. It was like you had finally found your center of balance, and when he disappeared he took all of that with him.

This is more than just attraction.

With that he tugs his flannel off, you grab the bottom of his shirt, impatiently pulling it up over his head, not wanting to look him in the eyes, you stare at his shoulders as you climb up onto the bed, straddling his lap.

“I really think we should talk-” He starts again so you reach behind yourself, unclasping your bra, glaring at him as you let it drop.

“Then talk.”

He looks at you like you’re something to eat.

“That’s not fair.” He finally manages to pull his gaze off of your chest, looking you in the eyes, his pupils swallowing his irises leaving you to stare into the darkness of his eyes.

“There’s nothing to talk about, you went away for work and you forgot your phone charger.” You reach between the two of you to remove his belt, tossing it behind him on the bed before trying to unzip his jeans. “It was just an unfortunate series of circumstances.” You grumble before lifting yourself off his lap so he can shove his jeans off.

He’s glaring at you now. Good. He should know that you’re challenging him. Everything from this point on is a game, you just have to catch him in a lie. You grind down against the straining fabric of his boxers, hands on his shoulders to balance yourself as you rub yourself against his clothed erection, drawing a hiss from between his teeth. Before you know it his hands are gripping the hem of your panties.

“Go on Joel, rip them off. I know you’re plenty capable.” You say it like the accusation it is. He’s strong enough to do a lot of things, you aren’t sure if tearing a person in half is one of those things but you’re determined to find out. He knows what you’re implying but he does it anyway, grabbing the fabric on either side of your hips and easily tearing them to shreds.

“You don’t know what you do to me.” He murmurs, leaning forward to press his forehead to yours.

You do.

He does the same to you. A carnal desire, your most basic human instincts are reduced to nothing the moment your skin is against his.

You don’t waste any time, slipping your hand under the waistband of his underwear, watching his cock spring free, slapping against his stomach. You unceremoniously spit in your hand before taking him in your fist, watching his jaw go slack as you rake your nails against the underside of his cock, feeling him twitch in your hand. You keep your eyes trained on his face as you notch him at your entrance, tilting your head to the side as you hesitate.

The veins in his neck jut out as you slide the head of his cock over your clit, hissing softly as you do.

He’s purposefully showing restraint.

He clutches the sheets, his knuckles go pale and you can’t help but wonder if he isn’t touching you because he’s worried he’ll hurt you.

“Fuck me, Joel.” You lean forward, biting his stupidly plush bottom lip. He doesn’t move his hands from where they are and you can’t help but scowl against his mouth.

He’s holding back.

He knows exactly what you’re doing and he’s trying to prove you wrong. How long has he been holding back?

In one sharp motion you slide down on his cock, forcing an obscene moan out of yourself, but it isn’t loud enough to cover the ripping sound. Your eyes wander downward, his are rolled back but all you can focus on now is your torn bed sheets in his clenched fist.

Holy hell.

“Fuck. Me.” You rasp out, lifting your hips again before dropping them back down. His head falls forward this time, his mouth latching onto your shoulder, muffling his growl.

You know that growl.

“Fuck me or leave, Joel.” You take his face in your hand, roughly pulling him back so he’s eye to eye with you.

You heard that growl in the woods less than an hour ago.

“You’re playing with fire, bunny.” He glares at you but you just stare right back.

“I won’t say it again.” You give him one last warning and he finally brings his hands to your hips, with a grunt he lifts you up, slamming you back down on his cock, you can feel him brushing against your cervix as you cry out.

At his age he shouldn’t be able to do that.

He does it again, moving you like a ragdoll up and down on his length, a lewd squelching fills the air, egging him on. He tilts his head down, his teeth scrape against your breast, and you can hear a roar building in his throat. He fucks you like a fleshlight, moving you effortlessly up and down on his cock, your chest bouncing with each thrust.

He shouldn’t be able to do any of this.

Neither one of you speaks, you can feel the camper swaying ever so slightly as he slams into you, thrusting his hips up to meet yours as he pulls you down onto him.

He makes it look effortless.

Another growl rips through the air and you know neither one of you is gonna last long if he keeps going at this pace. He hammers into your sensitive spots with every thrust, your clit rubbing against the dark curls along his pelvis.

He’s merciless with the force at which he moves you, he’s started nipping at your shoulder and you know he’s close as they get harder and harder. You finally feel him break the skin and just like that he’s lifting you off of him, his mouth clamped down on your flesh, you feel his cum between your legs as he finishes on your folds. The sensation of him slipping out of you sends you over the edge right along with him, your stomach tightening as you groan, letting your head fall forward onto him.

You feel better already.

Not good, just better.

He manages to keep you both upright for a few more moments before collapsing down on the mattress with you in his arms.

And then it’s just quiet.

Until the mattress squeaks as you get up. Wiping yourself off with a towel and turning the lights off before returning to bed without a word. He’s the one who finally breaks the silence.

“If you want me to leave, I’ll leave.”

“You can stay.” You mumble, rolling over to face away from him.

It’s better if you know where he is.

That’s what you tell yourself.

It’s easier to swallow that excuse than the truth, that you can’t shake the terror from your encounter with the creature and now amount of fucking is going to change that. You don’t want to be alone, no matter how angry you are. He doesn’t seem to take the hint though, snaking his arm under yours and pulling you to his chest.

You start to push him away but you feel a wave of calm wash over you when he does so you just settle back against him. You close your eyes, praying sleep might come but all you see in the darkness is that open maw closing in on you.

You know that growl.

It isn’t Joel. It can’t be Joel, he was with Ellie and then he was with you.

It wasn’t Joel.

You’re more than used to waking up in the woods at this point. Monsters and men torment you in your dreams whenever they get the chance to.

But tonight is different.

You don’t feel the cold, wetness of the forest floor on your back before you open your eyes. Instead you only feel steel, you make an attempt to sit up on instinct but you can’t. In a panic you open your eyes to find yourself cuffed to the cadaver carrier from Marias basement.

This can’t be happening.

This is the kind of dream you get after your first body.

You’ve had this dream, years ago when you’d just started studying mortuary sciences. Although now it feels worse, more ominous than it had previously.

That probably has to do with the fact that you can’t move.

In response to that petrifying thought you begin to uselessly tug on the cuffs, your ankles and wrists attached to the cold unforgiving steel of the table you’ve sewn countless bodies back together on.

You don’t strap cadavers down, there’s no need to.

The door swings open and you’re thankfully able to sit up enough to watch Maria and Joel walk in, solemn looks on both of their faces.

You open your mouth to call for help but something stops you.

No.

No, no, no.

Your jaw is wired shut.

The sudden realization makes you gag as you shake the table with the force of your panic.

Maria is always thorough, your mouth is full of cotton.

They act as if you’re as lifeless as any other corpse as they stand beside you, despite your muffled screaming, tears immediately flowing from your eyes as you feel your throat constrict around the cotton.

“What happened to her?” He sounds so far gone even though he only stands a few feet away.

“You know what happened to her.” Marias sorrow turns to a look of resentment as she turns to Joel.

“Bear attack.” He says it more to himself than to her.

“Keep telling yourself that.”

“I didn’t mean for this to happen.”

“You never do.” Her voice is full of a hatred you haven’t ever heard in reality.

She looks at you with a pity you’ve had on your own face before. It’s the same look you give every corpse on a table.

You follow Maria’s gaze down at your body and find your chest sliced open, the inside dry.

And then you wake up.

Of course Joel is there when you sit up in bed with a strangled cry, a fresh flood of tears falling down your face.

“Bunny?” His groggy, sleep ridden voice resembles a growl, sending you backwards away from him, your back hitting where the mattress meets the camper wall. He’s already up, he moves towards you but the moment you flinch away from he stops. “Are you okay? What hap-“

“Don’t come any closer.” Your voice is barely above a whisper.

“Hey, hey, it’s okay.” Thankfully he doesn’t move towards you, he holds his hands up ever so slowly. He’s acting like you’re a cornered animal.

You can’t seem to find your voice. Every single logical and rational part of your body and mind tell you to get as far away from him as possible. To fight tooth and nail to get past him, to run away and never look back. You’d never get away with that though, he’s too deeply rooted in you already. He’s made for you. Sculpted by the gods to be everything you’ve ever wanted all in one neat little salt and pepper package, served up to you on a silver platter.

“Sweetheart, it’s okay, you’re okay.” He inches forward a bit but the way you pull your legs up against your chest, trying to make yourself smaller makes him move back. “It’s okay, it’s just me.”

Yeah Joel, that's the problem.

a/n : i have such mixed feeling abt this chap but whatever i really like it so ?? idk

I am no longer doing taglists so follow @lincolndjarinnotifs and turn on notifications to be notified when new chapters are posted !!

#lincolndjarin #joel miller #tlou #the last of us #joel miller x reader #joel miller smut #joel miller x you #joel miller fanfiction #joel miller fic #tlou hbo #joel tlou #the last of us hbo #monster fucker #monster lover #monster romance #oh honey #fic : oh honey

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cryingspiritsofheart · 7 months

Note

omg hi hi!! I was the anon who requested the Yandere tighnari hcs and I loved it ahhh!!!! I’ve been rereading it all day!!!

if it’s alright with you, could I request Yandere Lyney hcs with a male fox hybrids reader (again lol)

also can I be referred to as 💌 anon if you do anon stuff

Hi, Welcome back 💌 Anon! Thank you for submitting another request. (I'm so glad you liked it I really thought it wouldn't be what you wanted but I'm glad you enjoyed my writing) And you can request as much as you like I'm happy to write it ^^.

ραɾιɳɠ: 𝐿𝑦𝑛��𝑦 𝑿 𝐹𝑜𝑥 𝐻𝑦𝑏𝑖𝑟𝑑 𝑀!𝑅𝑒𝑎𝑑𝑒𝑟

ᡶꪗᩏꫀ: 𝓡𝓮𝓺𝓾𝓮𝓼𝓽, 𝓗𝓮𝓪𝓭𝓬𝓪𝓷𝓸𝓷𝓼

𝗚𝗲𝗻𝗿𝗲: 𝐃𝐚𝐫𝐤 𝐓𝐡𝐞𝐦𝐞, 𝐅𝐥𝐮𝐟𝐟

𝕎𝖆𝖗𝖓𝖎𝖓𝖌𝖘: ɢᴇɴᴇʀᴀʟ ʏᴀɴᴅᴇʀʀ sᴛᴜғғ?, ʟʏɴᴇʏ ᴄᴀʟʟɪɴɢ ʜɪs ᴍᴏᴛʜᴇʀ, ʙʟᴏᴏᴅ ᴀɴᴅ ɢᴏʀᴇ, ɴsғᴡ/18+ (ᴍᴀʏʙᴇ sᴏᴍᴇ ɪ ᴘᴏssɪʙʟʏ ғᴏʀɢᴏᴛ (｡•́︿•̀｡))

𝐘𝐚𝐧𝐝𝐞𝐫𝐞!𝐋𝐲𝐧𝐞𝐲 who invites you to his acts and when your in that form of yours he makes you apart of it. He does that quite often, Even Lynette thinks your apart of the show now or Lyney's other assistant.

𝐘𝐚𝐧𝐝𝐞𝐫𝐞!𝐋𝐲𝐧𝐞𝐲 who introduced you to his mother as his new "assistant" when he obviously knows his interests in you.

𝐘𝐚𝐧𝐝𝐞𝐫𝐞!𝐋𝐲𝐧𝐞𝐲 who told his mother that you were making conversations with others around Fontaine which lead to Arlecchino sending fatui guards to dispose of them.

𝐘𝐚𝐧𝐝𝐞𝐫𝐞!𝐋𝐲𝐧𝐞𝐲 that brushes your fur in your form and goes your makeup when your human.

𝐘𝐚𝐧𝐝𝐞𝐫𝐞!𝐋𝐲𝐧𝐞𝐲 who gifted you a bow for both forms which was inspired by his design and it totally didn't have a tracker in it because he totally trust you (^v^)

𝐘𝐚𝐧𝐝𝐞𝐫𝐞!𝐋𝐲𝐧𝐞𝐲 who invites you to the orphanage and "jokes" about having children with you, since y'know your a hybrid and all.. but of course he'd never do it without your consent!

𝐘𝐚𝐧𝐝𝐞𝐫𝐞!𝐋𝐲𝐧𝐞𝐲 who has your head resting in his lap while he's entertaining children, especially when people are caught having friendly or love eyes at you making them pull you close and they disappear within seconds!

𝐘𝐚𝐧𝐝𝐞𝐫𝐞!𝐋𝐲𝐧𝐞𝐲 who gives you special seats at his shows even when you insist he shouldn't waste his time which he only responds with ❝𝗢𝗻𝗹𝘆 𝘁𝗵𝗲 𝗯𝗲𝘀𝘁 𝗳𝗼𝗿 𝗺𝘆 𝗠𝗶 𝗮𝗺𝗼𝗿~ 𝘄𝗲 𝗰𝗮𝗻`𝘁 𝗵𝗮𝘃𝗲 𝘆𝗼𝘂 𝘀𝗮𝗻𝗱𝘄𝗶𝗰𝗵 𝗶𝗻 𝗯𝗲𝘁𝘄𝗲𝗲𝗻 𝘁𝗵𝗼𝘀𝗲.. "𝗣𝗲𝗼𝗽𝗹𝗲"❞

𝐘𝐚𝐧𝐝𝐞𝐫𝐞!𝐋𝐲𝐧𝐞𝐲 who drugged you when he found out that you were having some strong connection with his sister Lynette but turns out you just wanted to learn more about her, Lyney and Freminet.

𝐘𝐚𝐧𝐝𝐞𝐫𝐞!𝐋𝐲𝐧𝐞𝐲 who trust you to be his lawyer everytime he's put for trails. To everyone's surprise (expect Lyney) you made an fantastic lawyer! Even when sometimes it was his fault..

𝐘𝐚𝐧𝐝𝐞𝐫𝐞!𝐋𝐲𝐧𝐞𝐲 who puts vibrators special objects inside your hole the place under your tail so he sees your expression during his show or just in general but he mostly does it on show nights.

𝐘𝐚𝐧𝐝𝐞𝐫𝐞!𝐋𝐲𝐧𝐞𝐲 whose invited you to drinks knowing you get drunk easily which lead to him tying you down, and fucking loving you until everyone could hear you but he eventually shuts you up.

𝐘𝐚𝐧𝐝𝐞𝐫𝐞!𝐋𝐲𝐧𝐞𝐲 who's made you your own version of his outfit just more revealing which explains why he's the only who to see you in it

𝐘𝐚𝐧𝐝𝐞𝐫𝐞!𝐋𝐲𝐧𝐞𝐲 who calls you his "Little/Baby fox" which results in you two arguing (playfully) about that nickname,, he usually ends up winning but you still got your chances.

𝐘𝐚𝐧𝐝𝐞𝐫𝐞!𝐋𝐲𝐧𝐞𝐲 who treats you like a prince, he does things that you insist you can do on your own. Especially when it comes to showering he ends up going inside with you and you two basically start fighting for absolutely no reason leading to Arlecchino showering the both of you and a long lecture.

𝐘𝐚𝐧𝐝𝐞𝐫𝐞!𝐋𝐲𝐧𝐞𝐲 who gets easily jealous it seems like if your talking to someone he dislikes/hates or someone who isn't his family their being dispose with no hesitation

𝐘𝐚𝐧𝐝𝐞𝐫𝐞!𝐋𝐲𝐧𝐞𝐲 who stalks you and bugged your house so whenever it's your birthday or a special day for you he knows what exactly to get to you.

𝐘𝐚𝐧𝐝𝐞𝐫𝐞!𝐋𝐲𝐧𝐞𝐲 who tries to teach you easy card tricks but not reveal his actual secrets because he might be obsessed about you but he always says: ❝𝗡𝗼𝘄, 𝗻𝗼𝘄 𝗺𝘆 𝗹𝗶𝘁𝘁𝗹𝗲 𝗳𝗼𝘅 𝗮 𝗺𝗮𝗴𝗶𝗰𝗶𝗮𝗻 𝗻𝗲𝘃𝗲𝗿 𝗿𝗲𝘃𝗲𝗮𝗹𝘀 𝗵𝗶𝘀 𝘀𝗲𝗰𝗿𝗲𝘁𝘀 𝗺𝘆 𝗹𝗼𝘃𝗲❞

𝐘𝐚𝐧𝐝𝐞𝐫𝐞!𝐋𝐲𝐧𝐞𝐲 who has wet dreams or gets touch starved about you whenever you've been gone for at least a day or going on a travel and he can't come along with

Another request done for my lovely 💌 anon! Hope you enjoy just like you enjoyed the Tighnari one. I am making this quite late (is 9:30 even late?) So sorry if this sense rushed but if you have anymore request please end them through and I'll get to them when I can!

#yandere genshin impact #male x male #mlm #genshin x male reader smut #sub male reader #genshin impact lyney #lyney x male reader #💌 Anon request ☆#genshin imagines #genshin yandere headcanons #genshin fontane siblings

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scarredlove · 15 days

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This is a question for our slug boys!!!

What are your favorite hobbies, color, flowers, and places to visit? Do you three have anyone in particular that you…Ahem… ✨fancy✨? (¬‿¬)

For Sun, have you meet any other humans thus far? If so, have you made any friends? Any humans that are your favorites? :D

For Moon, having experienced the land and sea, is there one that you prefer more to the other? If so may we know why? :D

For Eclipse, we all know you three have a strong bond with each other, but is there anything you wouldn’t be willing to do for Sun and Moon?

Lastly and definitely not least!! I dearest host!!! Just wanna say I absolutely love and adore your dabbles and silly boys from both au’s!! Your art has inspired me so much and I just wanna share my appreciation and adoration for you and your work!! Thank you for always sharing and posting your little dabbles! If I could I would break my finger to spam like every one of your posts, but I know it can be a lot of notifications so I don’t wanna kill your ears with that. Anyways take care of yourself! ♡♡♡

Sunny: OH MY! So many questions! Well-

Moony: Baking pastries, they take time but it's nice. Errmm... Yellow has been growing on me, but I like green. For flowers... maybe daisies. They're nice and small, and Y/N can make crowns from them...

Sunny: Very nice Moony, as for me-

Eclipse: Reading. You humans are strange creatures with your storybooks. I'm particular to cacti and a colour I like... Hm, grey maybe.

Sunny: Eh-heh v-very good, Clippy! AHEM! SO! I like making windchimes! Y/N and I look for pretty shells on the shore! I love ALL the colours! Though white is perhaps my favourite! And for flowers, I love lavender! The smell is so refreshing!

Also, thank you so much for your touching words <3 They brightened my day and made me smile! I shall do my best to look after myself, so I hope you're taking care of yourself too!! I'm slowly building confidence in writing again, so I hope to keep making y'all happy with whatever my brain comes up with <3 Have an amazing day!!

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camarocarfight · 3 months

Text

Alastor's Bloody Valentine; A Continuation

Here you go, folks - It's going to be a series. Now featuring a new pairing! Warnings remain the same. Sexual content, violence, gore. I'm trying my best to base this off of the Hazbin timeline.

And please be patient and bear with me. I'm a very busy PA student, and writing this is an escape for me

Thank you to those who commented and gave me the inspiration, and @kimkimmm2411 for being the driving force for a pt.2.

V Tower, Present Day

Vox groaned loudly with his teeth knashed, and clawed hands digging into the mattress of his spacious, king sized bed. The fabric easily gave way, leaving gouges in the foam surface. His hips began to stutter and lose rhythm as the tight, wet heat enveloping his cock squeezed him like a vice and became too mcuh. One more powerful thrusts, and he came with a roar, filling you with his seed. Your finely manicured nails clung to Vox and gouged into the bare flesh of his back. Angry red marks were left in your wake, with blood beading from the jagged scrapes. Vox never minded, and wore the marks proudly. To Vox you were a trophy, and he cherished you, and worshipped the very ground you walked on.

The moment Vox had discovered you and Alastor had once been affiliated, and that you were seeking your own revenge, he pursued your alliance. You and Vox shared the same immense hate for the Radio Demon and vowed to bring an end to him together. Alastor was a powerful Overlord, but you proved to be a rare threat to Alastor. You did afterall, harness the same power as Alastor, making you a very dangerous enemy and one that could very well kill him. Not to mention that you knew all of Alastor’s strength and weaknesses from your past lives. Vox had nearly short-circuited when you shared with him that juicy detail.

An attack on Alastor had been planned, but fate had waylaid that opportunity for you and Vox. Leaving you weakened, and with a new vulnerability of your own. Your priorities shifted, and Alastor had seemingly vanished, and had yet to return. In his absence the relationship between you and Vox and grown into more than just an alliance, and Vox found himself raising the Radio Demon’s child. That gave Vox a unique leverage over Alastor. One that he hoped to exploit if the coward ever showed his face again.

“Don’t forget I’m going to see Rosie today.”

You and Vox had reluctantly separated to get ready for the day. He now dressed in his trademark suit, while you sat at your vanity still getting ready.

“Right, I’ll have the car ready for you,” Vox stood behind you and placed his hands on your shoulders and have them a light squeeze. “Though, you know I’m not exactly a fan of your friendship with that cannibal.”

Even though Vox was ahead of the times, and up to date on all of the latest trends, you were not. Technology was not your strong suit, and you preferred the simpler thing. You found comfort in book as opposed to those pesky phones whose blue-light gave you a headache. It was very ironic, considering that you were dating the living embodiment of the technology you despised. That little flaw, as Vox called it, took him years to look past. He still tried to coax you towards the digital age, but you were frustratingly steadfast in your old-fashioned preferences. He was just thankful that your taste in fashion had evolved thanks to Velvette.

“Rosie is darling, Vox, and I don’t need the car,” you brushed his hands off and fixed your hair into an updo. “Arthur and I will walk. If you didn’t have anything planned for him, that is?”

Arthur wasn’t Vox’s biological son, but it had surprised you how quickly Vox had stepped into the role as father figure for the boy. It had been a shock for both of you when the pregnancy had been found out. Vox, however, raised Arthur as if he were his own. Providing him with a happy childhood, and the finest education hell had to offer. Thanks to Vox, Arthur had the tools to succeed in all aslpects of his life, and was currently pursuing his own weapons business that would undermine Carmilla Carmine. Risky business, that left you anxious of the target on your son’s back. Vox seemed to even be concerned over Arthur’s safety in the matter.

Vox flashed you a charming grin and leaned down to claim your lips in a brief, heated kiss. “I feel better knowing that he’ll be with you.”

You hummed and gazed up into Vox’s crimson eyes. “Don’t kill anyone while I’m gone.”

“No promises!” Vox laughed. “Enjoy your day out, Doll,” he said, and rushed out the door.

-*-*-*-

You and Arthur walked to cannibal town in comfortable silence with your arm in his. The man trumped you in height - nearly as tall as Vox now. It seemed, however, that he looked more and more like his father each day. He and Alastor bore a striking resemblance as both were stags, but Arthur had brunette hair and green eyes. Their personalities were polar opposites though, as Arthur never smiled unless he was in the company of people he knew and were close to. Otherwise, he was composed and stoic.

There were some moments when Arthur would glance at you or offer you a slight smile and you could swear he were Alastor. Anger would build inside you, but would quickly dissipate, leaving you feeling guilty. Your ange lied with Alastor, and Alastor alone. Never would you blame your son for something he had no control over.

Upon arriving at Rosie’s emporium, the woman had made a comment about how similar Alastor and Arthur’s looks were, but you brushed it off. Rosie had the best intentions in mind, but she wasn’t someone to sugarcoat things.

“And how’s the business coming along,” Rosie grinned and poured Arthur a cup of tea. She often enjoyed teasing, and sometimes flirting with Arthur.

Arthur quirked a brow and murmured a thank you before bringing the cup up to his thin lips. “Slow, as my mother and Vox are trying to undermine my progress.”

“Arthur,” you warned. “We just want you to understand what you’re getting yourself into.”

Rosie nodded and took her seat beside Arthur. Her dainty hand covered his own and gave it a reassuring squeeze. “Parents will always worry, but I think it’s wonderful what you’re doing! Perhaps you and Carmilla could work together one day.”

“How optimistic,” Arthur scoffed. The man put his cup down on the saucer and crossed his legs. He folded his hands and rested them in his lap and turned his attention to Rosie, seeming to study her intently with his green eyes. “Mother is convinced I’ll be a target.”

“She has reason to worry! What, with Alastor being back and all.”

“I’m sorry,” you blinked and glared over at Rosie. “He’s…back,” your teeth grit, and the room suddenly darkened, and your shadow manifested with it’s jagged teeth bared. “When?”

“Oh, darling, you must have missed the whole snafu over the radio while you were on your way over! I thought for sure you would have known by now.”

#alastor x reader #alastor x you #alastor #vox x reader #oc #hazbin hotel #rosie hazbin hotel

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esther-dot · 4 months

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I was reading your comments about Jon's chivalry and protecting the vulnerable. This all brought to mind Jon's TV ending of stabbing Dany in the heart while kissing her. While we don't know whether or not this version of Dany's end is close to what will be the written version, it seems as though it's possible in part because of the Nissa Nissa legend. Jon doing that in the books (or something like it) would align with the Azor Ahai story, but in a warped sort of way, leaving events open to interpretation (as is usual with the prophecies and legends). But in any case, Jon killing a woman will be an act that is antithetical to so many of his values that it seems like it would come close to destroying him even if justified within Jon's universe. I wonder if Martin really plans to bring Jon this low, but also how it will be received. The optics of portraying such an ending for Dany given today's sensibilities could be viewed even more dimly than it would have been when Martin started writing the series?

(about this ask)

I'm so sorry that it's taken me this long to respond! I have finally reread some pertinent chapters to situate my thoughts.

First, I just want to acknowledge how upsetting this spec is to some, and remind everyone, no one wants this ending. We all think it's gross, we're just discussing the possibility, not merely because of the show, because it's an old theory. I looked around and saw posts about this starting in 2013 by Dany fans. So, the presence of this myth is substantial enough, even BNFs/Jonerys shippers felt like it had a strong chance of manifesting (although they believe Dany would willingly sacrifice herself) well before D&D committed their fuckery. I suppose all that answers your question. Man killing his lover is a gross trope, being forced to kill a loved one to save the world is overused, so now, I can't imagine anyone reading it and being happy about it.

In trying to look at the context in-canon Martin has created, he's taken it out of the strict man kills lover idea of the AA/NN myth, and is discussing the idea of sacrificing an innocent child to a god which fans have already compared to myth, Stannis & Shireen = Agamemnon & Iphigeneia. This sacrifice hasn't happened yet, but it's been confirmed as a Martin plot point. Stannis is already burning people alive, justifying kid killing, and Davos has already planted the Stannis=AA, kid=NN idea:

Davos was remembering a tale Salladhor Saan had told him, of how Azor Ahai tempered Lightbringer by thrusting it through the heart of the wife he loved. He slew his wife to fight the dark. If Stannis is Azor Ahai come again, does that mean Edric Storm must play the part of Nissa Nissa? (ASOS, Davos V)

Although, rather than this being a justified death, the fans will be horrified as we're meant to be. Davos' thoughts call into question the idea of killing another for your "magic sword":

A true sword of fire, now, that would be a wonder to behold. Yet at such a cost . . . When he thought of Nissa Nissa, it was his own Marya he pictured, a good-natured plump woman with sagging breasts and a kindly smile, the best woman in the world. He tried to picture himself driving a sword through her, and shuddered. I am not made of the stuff of heroes, he decided. If that was the price of a magic sword, it was more than he cared to pay. (ACOK, Davos I)

and Martin impresses upon us the value of each life:

"Your Grace," said Davos, "the cost . . ." "I know the cost! Last night, gazing into that hearth, I saw things in the flames as well. I saw a king, a crown of fire on his brows, burning . . . burning, Davos. His own crown consumed his flesh and turned him into ash. Do you think I need Melisandre to tell me what that means? Or you?" The king moved, so his shadow fell upon King's Landing. "If Joffrey should die . . . what is the life of one bastard boy against a kingdom?" "Everything," said Davos, softly. (ASOS, Davos V)

The talk of greater good/killing kids reminds me of AGOT in which Ned's story is inundated with the topic of child murder/protecting kids. We have Mycah, his memories of Aegon and Rhaenys, his promise to protect Jon, his guilt over his lies and treason bubbling up repeatedly, his fight against the assassination of Dany, his attempt to save Cersei's children from Robert...we all know, kid killing is wrong according to Martin, so we've already been told that this wannabe AA's actions are contemptible. The myth in which the sacrifice is happy to die, that sacrificing someone is heroic, it's being contradicted by what we're being shown in the Stannis storyline.

Now, while Stannis is being declared Azor Ahai, we're constantly being told he isn't. Jon calls the act a mummer's farce and comments on his cold sword and that is right before a Dany chapter, so the idea is, Dany is actually AA. @trinuviel is the first person I saw lay out the argument for that and contend that being AA is a bad thing (meta parts 1, 2, 3). People have said that Drogo kinda becomes her Nissa Nissa in that scenario. She burns him to get the dragons, and what are the dragons called?

"When I went to the Hall of a Thousand Thrones to beg the Pureborn for your life, I said that you were no more than a child," Xaro went on, "but Egon Emeros the Exquisite rose and said, 'She is a foolish child, mad and heedless and too dangerous to live.' When your dragons were small they were a wonder. Grown, they are death and devastation, a flaming sword above the world." He wiped away the tears. "I should have slain you in Qarth." (ADWD, Daenerys III)

That kinda makes us think, oh, the myth already has a canon counterpart, don't need to worry about it anymore. Only, we've also said Rhaegar impregnating a young Lyanna could be read as a play on Nissa Nissa, with him risking her life to get the prophecy baby, otherwise known as the third head of the dragon. And Jon is not only a kind of dragon, he repeatedly intones that fun little phrase about being a sword, and sometimes, that happens within an interesting context (for speculation purposes):

"I will." Do not fail me, he thought, or Stannis will have my head. "Do I have your word that you will keep our princess closely?" the king had said, and Jon had promised that he would. Val is no princess, though. I told him that half a hundred times. It was a feeble sort of evasion, a sad rag wrapped around his wounded word. His father would never have approved. I am the sword that guards the realm of men, Jon reminded himself, and in the end, that must be worth more than one man's honor. (ADWD, Jon VIII)

So, although there is one character that seems to be Azor Ahai (Dany), I am definitely open to the myth manifesting, or rather, being examined from multiple angles. IMO, that's what Martin is doing and we can use each variation to reassess what he's saying with it. We have Dany and Drogo (the official one/successful one), Rhaegar and Lyanna (not AA, but Jon is born), Stannis and Edric (denied), Stannis and Shireen (he will kill Shireen, but we don't know if he'll get what he wants and we do know he isn't AA)... lots of pics of a similar idea. To emphasize Stannis not being the dude and Dany being the "real" AA, we have that Jon passage and chapter transition:

Even though we have lots of contenders and commentary about this myth with the canon characters, none of it romanticizes human sacrifice, and all works towards the twist that what is said to be a hero/the weapon that will save people brings destruction. If we look back at it critically, Dany has a habit of accepting, or even causing, the suffering of others for her greater good, including sacrificing Mirri to get her dragons. We might even argue that Mirri is a Nissa Nissa for her, as Dany had taken Mirri under her protection before killing her to get dragons.

That being said, even though we're getting told this shit is bad in canon, the indictment of killing innocents and people who depend on you to protect them, it wouldn’t apply if someone were to kill Stannis or Dany. It isn’t on the same moral level as killing a child, or a spouse who loves and trusts you. It isn't the same as invading and then killing people who won't worship your god or accept you as a leader. It isn't the same as killing a slave, simply because, when their times come, Dany and Stannis will be guilty. After their actions, it would be justice for them to die. I think why other parts of the fandom entertain the idea of Dany as NN while also condemning us for entertaining it, is that Dany's vision does have her being grasped at by hands of her "children" and fans have this idea that she is sacrificing herself/her happiness for the greater good already, and in the AA/Nissa Nissa story, it does sound like she offers herself willingly for the tempering of the sword. So to them, it’s part of Dany’s heroism. Dany's death is inevitable to some, at the hands of Jon is ok, but her not dying a hero, that's unacceptable.

But thinking about how it's been discussed thus far, I can't imagine we're gonna get a romanticized version of the AA/NN myth in canon when so far, it's pretty dark/condemned. None of that precludes Jon killing Dany in what you described as a:

warped sort of way, leaving events open to interpretation (as is usual with the prophecies and legends).

which really sticks out to me as the important part of all this.

The idea that Jon might do it and characters recognize it as a tragic love story a la the myth, that fascinates me because of how Martin has written wild rumors into the story (rumors about Dany, Robb, and Sansa spring to mind), and some of us have written reality and what the public thinks into fic as two distinct things because it feels like a potential way the story might go. What is widely known to be true, like say, Jon being Ned's bastard, may not be the truth that we the readers come to know. There's no guarantee that Westeros will know what the readers know about past or future events. We may get a take on AA/NN, the characters in-world may not understand it the same way.

Jon is undeniably a hero, in a world where institutional corruption is rampant and ideals abandoned, he’s a standout in his values. We would expect, and we find, contrasts between him and these other characters (Dany, Rhaegar, Stannis), primarily, his practical actions that are about saving life/protecting life, even from Stannis, so the idea that he would abandon certain values, it's a tough one. The difference is, while Stannis, Rhaegar, and Dany were acting on these prophecies or visions or dreams, things we're repeatedly warned against trusting in the text, Jon would be taking action based on the fact that Dany is a mass-murderer, a threat to all of Westeros. It isn't a sacrifice to an unknown god for some promised mystical good, it's justice. The religious fanaticism wouldn't be a factor, the killing of an innocent wouldn't be a factor, killing a child wouldn't be a factor, killing to achieve a self-serving end wouldn't be a factor. All the things that have been criticized thus far aren't at play.

The moral quandary presented to the audience in AGOT is killing someone who might be a threat, but is a child at the moment, and Martin presents the sneaky assassination / child killing as abhorrent:

Grand Maester Pycelle cleared his throat, a process that seemed to take some minutes. "My order serves the realm, not the ruler. Once I counseled King Aerys as loyally as I counsel King Robert now, so I bear this girl child of his no ill will. Yet I ask you this—should war come again, how many soldiers will die? How many towns will burn? How many children will be ripped from their mothers to perish on the end of a spear?" He stroked his luxuriant white beard, infinitely sad, infinitely weary. "Is it not wiser, even kinder, that Daenerys Targaryen should die now so that tens of thousands might live?" "Kinder," Varys said. "Oh, well and truly spoken, Grand Maester. It is so true. Should the gods in their caprice grant Daenerys Targaryen a son, the realm must bleed." Littlefinger was the last. As Ned looked to him, Lord Petyr stifled a yawn. "When you find yourself in bed with an ugly woman, the best thing to do is close your eyes and get on with it," he declared. "Waiting won't make the maid any prettier. Kiss her and be done with it." "Kiss her?" Ser Barristan repeated, aghast. "A steel kiss," said Littlefinger. (AGOT, Eddard VIII)

which is all interesting context for Dany later being assassinated, especially because the first lesson Martin gives us on justice is one that Jon is there for, and then is reiterated in relation to Dany:

Ned had heard enough. "You send hired knives to kill a fourteen-year-old girl and still quibble about honor?" He pushed back his chair and stood. "Do it yourself, Robert. The man who passes the sentence should swing the sword. Look her in the eyes before you kill her. See her tears, hear her last words. You owe her that much at least." (AGOT, Eddard VIII)

The convo about killing Dany with LF is about a bedding and before that it was presented in terms of a wedding gift, which makes me squint now knowing the AA/NN stuff:

Yes, it's awful, and I do understand, almost agree with you here:

But in any case, Jon killing a woman will be an act that is antithetical to so many of his values that it seems like it would come close to destroying him even if justified within Jon's universe.

but the way it might tie together the initial discussion of killing Dany and the eventual act weighs heavily with me when determining what Martin might do and why/why not.

The other suggestion is that Arya kills Dany. If having dragons is Chechov's gun for KL burning then Arya being a trained assassin feels like a Chechov's gun for killing Dany. But in that scenario, there is no conflict. No inner struggle. We spent so much of AGOT weighing the morals of killing Dany, it's hard for me to believe when the time comes, it's presented without any moral complexity. Arya is already able and willing to take a life, even when it isn't justified. It doesn't feel right to me that killing Dany would be a presented without an inner struggle, that it would be done easily, as easily as Arya now kills. TBH, it removes the drama if someone other than Jon does it because it will be so highly necessary and just when the time comes. Jon is really the only character who can make it squeamish because of the guy killing a woman thing and because it will be kinslaying.

There is a lot of talk about poison, so I think it's totally possible Arya tries to kill Dany with poison first, but I think Jon is more likely to be the one to successfully kill her, and in a way that calls to mind Ned's opinion on it, See her tears, hear her last words. That would allow Martin to make sure we see it as just/moral, bring home the Targ v Targ issue, and it shades Ned's decisions and values in a very interesting way.

After s8 fans said Ned was wrong to fight against killing Dany in s1, but Martin thinks he was right to object to killing children, so for the two Targ children he was protecting in AGOT (Dany and Jon) to come face to face and one kill the other prevents the conclusion that Ned was wrong. It was the same mercy, the same refusal to see the child of an enemy as an enemy, that saved the boy who will in turn save Westeros. IMO, it's a way to uphold the belief in mercy. I tend to think it’s also Martin’s way of addressing one his questions about his beloved LOTR (what about orc babies etc).

If another person ends Dany, we still get dead Dany, but it doesn't say anything interesting? Killing her wouldn't be a sacrifice on anyone else's part, she won’t be loved and she has to go. But, Jon, who so desperately wants to have honor, if he kills her, it's right as well as an egregious "sin." Ned dishonors himself to protect Sansa (and obvy was committing treason to protect Jon), it feels like coming full circle for Jon, who so wants to be worthy of being a son to Ned to follow his path there too. Also, one thing I expect we’ll keep tracking is kinslaying. Kinslaying comes up with the AA/Nissa Nissa issue in the Stannis storyline, so I do expect that to be addressed in Jon chapters:

We have the whole baby switch to assure us, Jon values human life a great deal. All the same, that involves a moment of cruelty on Jon's side, so Martin isn't interested in keeping him perfectly pure. He likes those moments where doing the right thing is very difficult, even compromising in some way. It's why, while we say Ned committing treason for Jon is a no brainer, Martin writes Ned tortured by it. He likes the inner turmoil over decisions, placing a societal good (honor) against another obligation or ideal and asking what is right.

I wonder if Martin really plans to bring Jon this low, but also how it will be received. The optics of portraying such an ending for Dany given today's sensibilities could be viewed even more dimly than it would have been when Martin started writing the series?

Despite all the ways I think it makes sense, yes, I def think this is one of those areas that if he had finished the series as quickly as he'd hoped, would have gone over better. Dany has dragons, therefore, she will be an overwhelming threat to Westeros, so it isn't like Jon will just randomly kill a woman, yet it's distasteful all the same. Martin is looking at things from the context of his story and the ideas he’s already introduced/talking about though which is why I can wince but kinda understand it. There are other issues where my sensibilities diverge from his, so didn’t like it on the show, I don’t like it for the books, still think it’s probably gonna happen. 🤷🏻‍♀️

#dot chat #anti daenerys #anti jonerys #azor ahai #jon snow #asoiaf speculation #anti rhaegar #anti stannis

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