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#then its 'god i wish you would talk about anything else'
themillsdaughter · 2 days
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a privilege I deprive myself of
Synopsis: you would rather chew glass than see Melissa yearn for something and not have it delivered to her. the thing, however, is that your life is a shitshow, and what was meant to be an act of kindness upends any effort you've made throughout the years to keep your feelings hidden.
or slightly insecure! Melissa and traumatized! reader in a Valentine's Day au inspired by this prompt.
Words: 3.9k
Warnings: Talks of body image.
Also, my first time dabbling in this fandom and character, so... Hope you like it!
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This isn’t ideal.
Valentine's Day has never been your favorite. Truthfully, you think it’s only yet another excuse for Capitalism to suck some extra cash out of millions of pockets.
You’ve thought this your entire life, regardless of being in a relationship or not. The thing, however, is that you live in a capitalist society and escaping the emotional reliance on the holiday is damn near impossible. So, throughout the years, you’ve come to terms with at least doing something for partners on the day.
Well, that is, until you’d walked in your apartment one day and found your girlfriend straddling a woman you’d never seen before.
This year, you’re single, so the whole thing had just slipped into the background, a red and pink festival more than anything else, really.
“You’re not doing anything?” Janine had asked a few days before in the teachers' lounge, brow furrowed, pity shining in her eyes. Dear God. “You know, Galentine’s Day is really popular now.”
“Honey, I barely want to celebrate the day when I have someone. Why would I make a fuss now that I have an out?” You’d gone back to grading, trying your damnest not to roll your eyes.
“Well, Tariq used to be like that, too. Even though we were together. Sometimes he would forget and go on trips, and those times were pretty lonely… You know, with all the hearts and chocolate and candles and couples around. Not that that’s the case this year, you know. I’m with Maurice, and he’s super attentive.” Her uncomfortable fidgeting had made her chair squeak. As sweet as she is, she should really learn how to stop projecting. “Anyways, I just worry about you. I don’t want you to feel lonely.”
“I don’t.”
“She doesn’t.” Melissa had said, at the same time as you. Looking up from the papers, you’d shared a grin with her. “She has enough wondering thoughts to keep her company.”
Finally, you’d given into your urge and rolled your eyes.
So this really isn’t ideal.
“I think this one is too tight, though.” The voice coming from your phone said. You turned the heat from the stove down, placed a half-lid over the pan, and picked up the device from the counter. On the screen, you saw something that made you pull out a stool from your island and thank God that the woman on the other side of the line was too busy looking at herself in the mirror, brows furiously furrowed, to notice.
Melissa had her hair up in a messy bun, her old pair of glasses hanging in the middle of her nose, and a dark red dress on that stole the breath from your lungs.
The material was soft, with satin-like finish, puffy long sleeves, a square neckline that showed her cleavage to perfection and a skirt that hit her a few inches above her knees.
Nervously, her hands tried to smooth over the creases formed on the dress by her belly.
“Maybe I could wear some spanks” she sighed. “It’s too tight, right?” She turned back to where the phone was, asking you directly.
For a few seconds, you struggled to think of something other than ‘uh’ to say. Melissa is stunning and, in those moments, you wished you’d been braver back when you’d had the chance. Maybe, she’d be asking Barbara this, getting ready as a surprise for you, not for somebody else. 
In a breath, you swallowed that feeling, locking it away with all the ones of its kind, somewhere deep, deep in your soul.
“Hun? It’s too tight, isn’t it? Who the fuck do I think I am trying on something like this.” She’d taken your silence as disapproval, and if she only knew you’d only want to see that off of her if you’d taken it out yourself…
“Shut up, will you?” You finally said. “It’s gorgeous, it looks awesome on you.”
“Yeah?”
“It’s the nicest one of the bunch.”
“I don’t know if I have spanks short enough for it, though. And I need something to get this under control.” She pushed her belly in again, and it enraged you.
“Anyone who doesn’t find that hot is not someone you should listen to.” You said, holding back the rant that always appeared on the tip of your tongue when she said shit like this.
Honestly, the struggle of straight men to like women is mind-boggling.
“You might just be too gay for this.” Melissa snorted, going into her drawer in search of the spanks.
“Well, fuck you very much.”
She barked out a laugh, and you let go of your phone to stir the food you were cooking, glad for a break from the glory of the woman you did not love like that.
Which is yet another reason why this isn’t ideal.
You don’t really care for Valentine's Day, but on the morning of the 14th, Melissa had seemed off. You tried touching on the subject while you two got coffee, as weak as Abbott’s brew always was, however, Gary walked in in all of his mustached glory and her attention immediately shifted to him.
He’s her boyfriend, it’s Valentine's Day, it was only logical.
She gave him hint after hint, pushed her shoulders a bit back, highlighting her breasts just slightly, cocked her hips some while leaning against the sink, licked her lips more than usual, everything to get an ounce of attention back. The absolute idiot fussed over the vending machine, mumbled a few words to her, eyes not even moving in her direction, before leaving with a “see ya later” tossed behind him.
The look that had taken over her face then had made your heart sink.
“He’s been like this all week.” She said during lunch break in your car. “Barbara thinks he might be planning something, says he’s not cheating, but I don’t know… I tried fooling myself with getting the perfect outfit, getting my hair and my nails done, but he hasn’t mentioned any plans, and he’s been so fucking distant, he doesn’t even seem like himself. And I really can’t handle another Joe situation.” Taking the last bite of the Shepard’s pie you’d brought her, she leaned her head against the rest.
To nearly everybody else here, she shows her angry, reactive, gray side. It’s easier for her, something that still makes her an outcast, but firmly protects her inner-self. But some magical, all-powerful, incredible being out there had made it so you were the one she chose to show her other side to, the one that is not always confident, not in her worth or her looks or her ability as a teacher.
The one that loves so intensely it scares her, and the one that has so many scars she spends half her time trying to heal them, or, at the very least, stop them from bleeding all over the place and being visible to the outside world.
“What do you think?” She said, bringing you back to the inside of your 2010s Honda. “You’ve always been better at these things.”
“Do I think he’s cheating on you?”
She nodded.
“Well, first of all, if he is, he is an absolute deepshit who doesn’t know how to count his blessing for you even giving him the time of day.”
You looked into her eyes while you said it, and she turned her head after, staring at the Tupperware in her hands. You thought you saw a blush creeping up on her cheeks.
“But I don’t think he is. Hey, maybe he’s just seen Valentine’s Day for what it is!” You nudged her arm with the back of your hand. “Maybe you’re the one who has to get on board.”
She relented a smile then, but it didn’t last.
“Mel, I think you’ll just have to ride this one out. Wait until the end of the day, so then you can actually have a conversation with him. If he really forgot or if there’s really something wrong, you’ll find out, but, honestly, me? I think he might just have some goofy-ass surprise planned.”
Melissa nodded while keeping her gaze out the window.
There’s a beat, then another, and you thought perhaps you’d convinced her, and she was only taking some time to absorb it.
“You know, you may not feel lonely with this kind of stuff, but…” She paused, voice tired, heart bearing all those tender scars, “I think I’m more like Janine than I’d thought.”
So, hm, this isn’t ideal.
You’d be damned if you let a man who didn’t realize the one in a million he had found ruin Melissa’s day.
Even if Valentine’s Day was traumatic for you, even if it was silly and forced and the world would be better off without it, Melissa was Melissa, and she deserved everything she wanted out of life. You’d thought Gary would see it, but if he didn’t, it’s up to you, even with all your emotional limitations.
So you wrote a little card. Nothing much, just made out of a fancier piece of purple paper you’d had lying around the classroom, with a heart-sticker you’d found at the bottom of your purse decorating the front page. Inside, the note wasn’t all that special, just enough for her to know she would never be alone. That you loved her. That she’d always have you, even if one day she didn’t have anyone else. That she’s your favorite, and if she wanted to, you’d take her out for dinner yourself.
As a friend, of course. Truly.
The fact she made your chest inflate and your pressure drop and a flock of butterflies run a full marathon in your stomach were not things that were included.
After sending the students home, saying goodbye to everyone else (Gregory and his Legos, Janine and her designer bag she knew nothing about, Ava and her many flings and Jacob and his slam poetry), you’d walked to the lounge, where you’d seen Barb and Mel walking towards only a few minutes earlier.
On the way there, you’d seen a bouquet of gerberas discarded on the hallway floor. You’d wondered if a poor kid had gotten broken up with on that day of all days, or if the bouquet held any card of its own. You’d picked it up, deciding to bring it to the compost pile later.
You hadn’t realized how it looked until it had been too late.
“Hey, Mel, I have something for…” You’d started, rounding the corner to enter the room.
“I love you too.” She’d said, looking into Gary’s eyes. In a split second, you’d registered there was something off about her voice, something lacking.
And now here you are, in this less than ideal situation.
All three look at you, standing in the doorway with a card and flowers, calling after another person’s girlfriend. Shit.
“What do you have for her?” Gary’s hand tightens on her waist just so.
So, yeah. Not fucking ideal.
“Hey, look at that. I uh…actually forgot the… ah… The book I was lending you.” You mumble. Spinning on your heels, you walk as fast as humanly possible without breaking into a sprint.
Stupid-ass, invented, asinine holiday.
******
You’re more than half-way through a bottle of Merlot when your doorbell rings.
“Fucking finally!” You shout, jumping from your couch, your belly clenching painfully. Opening up your front door, though, your shoulders drop. “You’re not Postmates.”
“No, I am not. You know what else I also am not? Enjoying this beautiful night with my husband.” Barbara floods you with words, walking past you into the living room.
“Why is that, exactly?” And maybe you’re starting to get drunk, because she seems furious with you, and you can’t remember the last time that ever happened.
“Because I cannot possibly enjoy what was supposed to be a romantic moment with Gerald when I get a desperate phone call from my best friend’s partner asking me if I know where she is.”
It’s too many words too fast, so you sit back down and blink hard, trying to focus.
“What are you talking about?”
“Gary called me. He doesn’t know where Melissa is.”
Melissa. Suddenly, the reason you’d started drinking comes back to you. Shit. Shit shit shit.
“Have you seen her?” Barbara seems to take pity on you, be it for your drunkenness or the way your face scrunches up at the name.
“Not since this afternoon, no. What happened?”
“Gary says she went after you, came back in a different mood. Then they got into an argument in the middle of dinner, because she didn’t seem to be enjoying it, which is strange considering she spent the day worrying he wouldn’t do anything special, as we both know.” She sits down on the futon in front of you. “He says she broke up with him right then and there, and left.”
What?
“What?”
“I don’t understand it either. What did you say to her in the hallway?”
“Nothing, I didn’t talk to her in the hallway, or at all.”
Barbara looks away, shaking her head with an incredulous smile on her lips.
“You two are… God forgive me, but infuriating.” She turns back, sighing. “Did she text you? I’ve called and called, but she hasn’t picked up. She’s not at her house, either.”
“I don’t know.” You pull your phone from the middle of the cushions. “It’s been on focus mode the whole night, I only got notifications for my food.”
“Can you try her? Maybe she’ll pick up if it’s you.”
“You’re starting to freak me out.”
“Yes, well, at least we’ll be on the same page.”
The line rings three times before going to voicemail. Then, there’s someone pressing your doorbell again. Your stomach aches.
Again, not Postmates.
“You’re an asshole!” It’s the first thing out of Melissa’s mouth. As the second person today pushes her way into your home, Barbara jumps up from her seat.
“You’re alive, you’re whole?” She turns Melissa over, taking advantage of the woman’s confusion at seeing her here. “Are you stupidly drunk?”
“Uh… No. Why…”
“Are you going to make any decisions that might land you in jail?”
“No.”
“Thank you, Jesus!” Barbara shouts, letting go of the redhead, lifting her hands in praise, and walking to the door. “Please, resolve your issues and let me have my steak in peace. I’ll call your boy-“ She looks Melissa over. “I’ll call Gary, let him know you’re okay. Goodbye. Also, you’re both on probation until further notice.”
She closes the door behind her with a bang, and the two of you are left alone, staring at each other.
Her make-up is smudged, as if she’d been crying, and that beautiful, beautiful red dress shines under the light. The vision worries you at the same time it sets the butterflies off.
Once more, with feeling: this is not ideal.
It feels like forever goes by, just like this, with neither of you moving or speaking or looking away.
Until she unclenches her fist, and you see your card, the one you’d lost on your rush to leave.
“You couldn’t have picked a better moment?” Melissa asks, placing the piece of paper on your entrance table. Her anger, so explosive moments ago, is low and dangerous now, simmering with the hurt in her eyes.
“Listen, I know how it looked-“
“Any other moment.” She keeps going, incapable of stopping now that she’s started. “Maybe one of the endless times when we sat on that fucking couch watching those boring movies you like. Or… Or maybe one of the nights when we spent hours pouring over project ideas or education strategies. Or really any other time before I made the decision to move on.”
Her heart is there, right in front of you, in the tears that drown the gorgeous green of her irises. Somehow, you feel like this is the cataclysm of thoughts and words and feelings you had both held back for years. 
“What?” You mumble for the second time tonight.
“I found every excuse in the book to avoid this, to avoid looking for someone else. And some of it was true, really. Joe did a number on me, which you know – which is why that just hurt worse.” She points to the card, bent in half and slightly crumbled. “But most of it was crap, and I knew it was crap, but I convinced myself it wasn’t because you weren’t ready, but you are amazing, and maybe it was better to wait just a little longer to see if you ever got your shit together, if you ever got over what that ex of yours did. But you never, ever did.”
“Melissa, the flowers…”
“Yeah, gerberas, my favorites, I know. That was a nice touch. You probably knew he wouldn’t remember that detail.”
“No, Mel, I didn’t buy them.” You step forward, past the table, close enough to reach out and touch her arm, if you were brave enough. You never are.
“What, are you gonna tell me you grew them too?” She snorts, humorlessly. “You know, the worst part is that you encouraged me. You told me to go after him, to let him woo me. Even this morning! You told me to wait for him, just to pull this crap.”
She raises her hand, wipes her eyes, and Christ, what the hell have you done?
She breathes in, and it would be wondrous if it weren’t terrifying, how she puts her heart away, takes the part reserved just for you to see and hides it from view.
“I’ve been in love with you for longer than I know, and this whole time you’ve been leading me on, never really letting me go, no, but still pushing me away.”
In love you with you. In love you with you.
I’ve been in love with you for longer than I know.
It reverberates inside your brain as if an echo in a museum. In love with you.
The person who lights up your days without a fail, the woman who’s made every single potential partner pale in comparison, a staple in your life so important that the mere thought of risking something that could make you lose her had forced you to bury all warm and fuzzy feelings. That woman. This woman. Melissa. Your Melissa. In love with you.
You feel your past is too broken to believe her, but still the thought of her being this hurt is unacceptable.
“Mel, I didn’t write the card to steal you away.”
You risk it now, because you feel her slipping through your fingers, and not seeing her heart when she looks into your eyes makes you feel the loneliest you ever have. You risk reaching over, placing one hand on each of her upper arms. The fabric there is so soft it surprises you.
She flinches, but allows it.
“Just to keep me from giving up, right?”
“You know me better than that.” You try, throat tight. You damn sure hope she does. “I wrote it because you seemed really hurt, and just in case Gary messed up, I wanted you to know you at least had me. You’ll always have me.”
She shakes her head, eyes welling up again.
“What a great pal you are.” Melissa whispers.
“I found the fucking flowers on the floor, I was gonna take them to the trash.” You lose your patience for a split second, because maybe you were tactless, but this is a bit too far, even for such a stubborn woman.
She raises a brow.
“I’m not trying to cover my ass.”
“’You’re the person I think about the most’” She quotes the card. “Did you mean that?”
“Of course.” You say without a thought.
“As a friend?” She challenges.
No. Yes. Maybe. It’s on the tip of your tongue.
If you risk this next step, will you lose her eventually? Like you have every other woman you have loved like this? Will you lose yet another person, yet another soul you feel you can rest beside?
You let your hands travel down slightly.
“Mostly.” She breaks eye contact, frowning. “I cherish our friendship so much, Melissa. But part of me wanted to say more. To say things that weren’t purely platonic. I didn’t mean to steer you around.” You sigh. This is… a lot. “I want to see you happy, Mel. More than anything in the world, you deserve that. And I just felt like allowing myself to feel all those things for you would jeopardize that. You’re an explosive, hot-headed, weird, outlaw Italian with a great mind and a huge, huge heart, and you’re definitely too good for me.”
She shakes her head again, but looking at those amazing, gorgeous, breathtaking green orbs, you find a glimpse of that other side of hers, even if the tears are still there, hiding underneath the surface.
“Today, I only wanted to make sure you would be okay. And I’m sorry about the misunderstanding. I truly didn’t want to ruin that moment for you.” Finally, you reach her hands, and she holds yours back. You fit. “And I have only ever encouraged you to go out there because I really believe you deserve to have the fullest life you can possibly have, and that’s probably with someone… less damaged. Someone good and kind. Someone like Gary.”
Melissa mumbles to herself in Italian.
Forse sarebbe più facile.
“But I don’t love Gary.” She says simply, in English, relaxing into your touch, sending your blood pressure through the roof.
I’ve been in love with you for longer than I know.
“I know.” You say.
You had seen it in her eyes when she’d returned his declaration earlier, the emptiness, the masking, the guilt for lying. She wanted to love him so badly.
She’d looked at you back then and, for a split second, before the confusion and embarrassment that had followed, she’d seemed relieved, as if saying there’s the one who sees me. And something more.
Now, the something more is clearer.
“I know you’re scared.” She whispers again. “And you always, always try to protect me from these things. Never when I get myself mixed up with family business or get into fights…”
“Well, I trust your right hook for that.” You can’t help yourself. She snorts very, very softly, and maybe there’s hope yet.
“But you always try to keep me safe from this, even from you.” Melissa lets go of one your hands, placing a palm against your cheek. Oh, so that’s what it means to have a heart attack. “But I have never, ever, been afraid of your baggage, you jackass.” The spark of defiance that flashes through her expression pulls a smile from you.
If someone had asked you yesterday if this happening was something you thought possible, you’d have laugh them out of the room.
“I just wish you’d given me that god-damn card before I’d wasted this dress on somebody else and had broken a man’s heart for nothing.”
“Poor Gary,” you whisper.
“Yeah… Poor Gary.”
So, perhaps it’s not ideal, with the tears and heartache and being on Barb’s bad side, but she leans up on her tip toes, squeezing your hand, palm migrating down to hold your neck, and despite not being ideal, it does feel oddly right.
“I don’t give a fuck if you hate Valentine’s Day and you think this is corny. You better kiss me before I lose my nerve, or I swear to…”
For the first time in your adult life, you forgo your mind, trying something with risks that may far outweigh the good. With a tug, you pull her in, leaning down, breath catching in your throat when your lips connect, and you find you don’t give two shits about the risks.
Heaven.
Of course, your doorbell rings not five seconds later. Fucking Postmates.
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natjennie · 6 months
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feeling a little uhh bad rn
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greekromann · 4 months
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ultimately i do actually enjoy the ghibli films i watch theyre well animated and always have an interesting way of conveying the message theyre trying to convey i just cant stand the fandomification of the films so much that i outright refuse to watch some films on principle
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mrfoox · 1 year
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Bruh. Self... Analyzing and reflecting on past relationships is.... Rough
#miranda talking shit#I mean i can see what i did wrong easily i have since early after but... Only recently really thought#Hard about the other party... And im like.... Oh thats.... There was quite a bit huh :')#I mean i hate talking ill of others and i know no one ever does something to me on purpose but man....#My ex's insecurities really ... Have effected me a lot lol. Not like she was the only one who have made me feel some of the things#I felt. But it was worse bc it was... Her... My partner... Ya know? And now im like ah... That... Yeah#I never thought about how probably jealous she was? Of my bestfriend. She have done many small comments#About how much i talked about her and how much time i spent with her etc... I wasnt out partying or anything such for me i just spent time#With my best friend. And i remember how my ex had said at one point something like 'you really spend a lot of time with her'#I mean... I did. She was my bestfriend? But not until recently i think my ex was probably jealous... And its... I tried to adjust to her?#Like at the time i didnt see i did. But i did distance myself after she said such things bc i felt like i needed to appease her?#Meanwhile i mean. She was out at more social gatherings and parties. I cant remember me saying much else than#Have fun and be safe! Whenever she went. I was never worried that she would get with someone else or something?#I.... Trusted her in that way. I never saw that as an problem. But now i see she uh...probably didnt trust me in that way?#I cant say she was jealous like actually thought i was being unfaithful or something. But like yeah.#A lot of things werent great in our relationship but that thing i think impacted me the most. Bc it made me feel i was being...#Idk if i didnt give all my time to her she couldn't believe in me or feel safe with me? Yeah something like that#I mean i felt envy in the form of 'i wish i could spend time with her irl like others' so rather 'god wish that was me' but i never thought#Her being out with others and having fun was... Bad. I never sat and imagined things happening. I just hoped she had fun and that she was#Safe. I have my own insecurities. Had way more back then but for me it was not... I couldn't trust her to be faithful?#Or that i felt uneasy that she wasnt spending time with me... But i think that she felt that way and its... Sad. Not that she was controlin#Or super bad but like... She could make comments that were hinting at me talking or spending too much time with my bestfriend#I mean she did indirectly also pressure me in the intimate department by saying things that made me feel guilty#Glad i didn't just 'give in' in the end just bc she wanted to. That would be on brand for me but no i didnt#She made me realize how much trust is important to me. In intimate matters and overall. I probably didn't feel like she trusted me like i
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reidmotif · 2 months
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For the Love of Lace
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Summary: Reader decides she doesn't want to pine for her best friend, Spencer, anymore, but still needs his help deciding what lingerie to wear for her upcoming date.
Couple: Spencer Reid/Fem!Reader
Category: Smut
Content Warning: breast and nipple play, fingering (r!receiving), lingerie talk, unprotected penetrative sex, no implied breast size, couch sex, best friends to lovers, possessive Spencer
Word Count: 3.7k
Masterlist
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Pining for your best friend definitely has its lows. There’s a certain sense of pathetic-ness that comes about when your friend is simply speaking, and your mind is occupied with the yearning to bridge the gap of distance between you two, and kiss them senseless. I think perhaps the biggest low that I’d hit, however, in the two years I’d been pining for Spencer Reid was the sexual frustration that came with being unable to see myself with anyone else. 
I’d never meant for it to play out like this. I thought it was an innocent crush, a byproduct of all the time we’d managed to spend with each other divulging into our personal lives and sharing the ordinary comings of the day together. However, there came a point where I looked at him and could see my future laid out so perfectly with him. A future of love, and laughter, and God, so much sex.  And no matter what I’d tried, the thought was too good to let go. 
It didn’t help that not only was he oblivious, he clearly didn’t return my affections. There were no signs of longing that I could deduce from his actions, and I’d decided to be reasonable about this. His actions were always remnant of a good friend, but a lover? No. There were no longing stares. No stolen brushes of fingers, or hushed whispers. It seemed that anything romantic about our relationship only emanated from my fantasies of what I wish we could be. 
And so here I was, unable to get past the mental block of wanting anyone as much, and it’d resulting in a long, exasperating two-year stint of celibacy. And Jesus, did it show. The tiniest thing Spencer did would set me off in a frenzy, and it left me feeling nearly perverted at a certain point. There’d been a day that he ran his finger down a page, attempting to locate a passage to display to me and all I could think about was how badly I wanted that finger in me. My mouth. Me. Anything. And then I realized I was lusting over my best friend’s hand, and considered the possibility of this being a serious problem on my end. 
My only block to getting laid was my own self.  And I certainly didn’t relish in the debauchery I’d clearly stooped low enough to indulge in, and so it was decided. This Valentine’s Day? I wasn’t going to watch rom-coms and wonder if Spencer and I could ever have a happy ending like them.
 I was going to man up, and go on a date. Easier said than done. 
I’d found the date, that bit was easy enough. Trying to find someone to hook-up with on Valentine’s Day is like trying to find sand on a beach. Plentiful and simple. 
What wasn’t easy? Feeling ready for it. I hadn’t been like that with anyone for nearly two years, and found myself worrying that my sexual skills had deteriorated with lack of practice, even though the thought was rooted in some ridiculous notions about myself. I knew that logically the sex would be fine, and hopefully, exactly what I needed to get over Spencer, but still. I wanted to ensure the best possible experience. 
I found myself going through the motions of date preparation. A manicure and pedicure. A facial. I even bought a fancier perfume to wear the night of. And of course, a trip to procure some new lingerie for the night. 
I’d always been indecisive, and with the choices presented in the shop, I found myself overwhelmed. I’d decided and picked up 3 possible pieces, and instead of determining between them whilst buying, I bought all of them, with the intention that I’d be able to make a choice in the comfort of my own home. 
Except now, it’d been a week, my date was tomorrow, and I still couldn’t figure out what would work for me. All three were equally as appealing, but which one was the best? The question haunted me, and continued to  haunt me as Spencer and I hung out. Despite my date tomorrow, I’d promised to keep up our tradition of binging episodes of Star Trek on Friday night together, except my head was clearly elsewhere, which he quickly noticed. 
Damn profiler best friend. 
“Alright, what’s up with you?” Spencer asks, reaching for the remote and pausing on some random frame of Spock’s face, the show taking less precedence than my lack of attention. 
I sigh apologetically, quirking my mouth to the side. “I’m sorry, Spence.” I say, taking a deep breath. “Just a lot on my mind.” 
Spencer tilts his head, his expression a little more worried. “Something important?” 
I shake my head quickly, not wanting to disclose the reasoning for my distraction tonight. Especially to him, considering my date tonight had the sole purpose of me getting over the man currently sat to my right. 
“No, no.” I say, softly. “Just.. stuff.” I voiced, quickly.
“Stuff?” Spencer inquires. 
“Stuff.” I affirm. 
Now it’s his turn to sigh, making a slight groaning noise whilst he did so. “Come on. I’ve known you for years. I know there’s something on your mind, and it’s clearly distracting you, so.. Please? Tell me?” He asks, giving me those eyes. A look that would make anyone weak in the knees. 
I find myself hesitating, and bite my lip, and in the end, it’s the way he’s looking at me that does me in. I opt to stay vague, but give him a bit more insight into my wandering thoughts. 
“My date tomorrow? I don’t know what to wear.” I say, shrugging. “It’s not very important, but I want to make it work, you know?” I continue. 
“Why don’t you just show me your dress then?” Spencer inquires. “I’m not a fashion expert, but it’s not like I’m unable to have taste.” 
I laugh a little self consciously, shaking my head quickly. “Oh no, no. It’s not a dress. It’s okay, Spencer. I couldn’t ask you to do that for me.” 
“Shoes? C’mon! I’m your best friend. I’d do anything for you.” He protests, coming closer to me now. 
“Not shoes.” I say, still shaking my head. “And no! I mean, seriously. There are some things you can’t do for me, and it’s fine. I’m fine.” 
“Jewelry? Hair? Makeup?” He implores continuously. “I’m all ears.” 
I realize there’s no way in hell he’s ever going to let this go, so I blurt out with little thought, “It’s lingerie!” 
He goes a bit quiet in thought, and then raises an eyebrow. “And that poses a problem?” He asks, softly. 
I blink a little. Yes. Of course that’s  a problem. I love you so much that it makes me feel weak, and I can’t be even more vulnerable in front of you. Not like that. 
But instead I shrug, running my hands through my hair. 
“I just.. Wouldn’t that be weird?” I say, hesitantly. 
“Not really.” Spencer replies, nonchalantly. “You’re my best friend. And I want to help you in any way I can. Nakedness doesn’t really bother me, and if it doesn’t bother you, I’d love to help you decide.” 
“Spencer..” I mumbled, still incredibly hesitant. 
“I’m your best friend!” Spencer articulates. “And logically, I can provide you with insight that only another guy could give.” He points out. “In a purely platonic, and logical sense.” 
I had to give him credit for that. It’s true. Spencer did have insight that none of my friends could provide, and I’d always entrusted him in helping me make decisions for myself and my life. And honestly, it was starting to get suspicious with how much I’d been objecting to this. The man had helped me decide bikinis, clubbing dresses- this couldn’t be any more different, could it? 
“Okay. Okay. Fine.” I give him a resigned nod, getting off the couch. “Alright. Wait here.”
He plants himself more firmly on the couch, his eyes trained on where I’d disappeared into my room, rummaging through the shopping bag until I’d found the first lingerie piece. 
It was a simple black lace bra and matching panties. The bottoms were a bit cheekier than a normal pair of underwear, and my legs were on display in full. My hair framed my pushed-up breasts, and I looked at myself in the mirror, slightly self-conscious at the fact that I was about to present myself this way to Spencer. 
How did I get into this mess? 
I slowly twist the doorknob, calling out to him. “Spencer! I’m coming out with the first one.” 
“I’m here.” is his reply, and I know he’s waiting, and so I slowly push open the door and come out in the light, a little more in his view. I give a half-hearted 360 degree turn, and look at him. 
“So?” I ask, my eyes finally meeting his, but the sight I’m met with is a lot different than the one I’m expecting. He’s slightly red in the face, his hands fidgeting in his lap- quite different from the more composed version I’d seen of him. 
“Is there something wrong?” I ask, quickly, feeling even more vulnerable as I stood there, half naked in front of a blushing man. 
“No, no!” He sputters. “I’m sorry. This is normal.” He gulps a bit and gives me a quick once over. “Sorry, I’ll be normal.” He clears his throat again and nods more definitively. “This one is nice. It’s simple.” He replies, as diplomatically as I’ve heard him. “Black works well with your skin and hair, and I feel like it brings out your eyes.” 
I nod, biting my lip. “Anything I could do to make it.. more than nice?” I queried. 
He narrows his eyes in thought.  “It’s already really, really nice, but I feel like stockings, or even a garter would even the attention from your breasts, more to your legs- which already look really nice, by the way.” 
It's my turn to blush and I nod quickly. “Stockings, got it.” I say. I blow out a breath of air. “One down, two to go.” I say, absentmindedly. 
“Better go back and try the other two, then.” Spencer says, with a smile. 
I attempt to return his smile and disappear back into my room, putting on the next piece. It was red, and a bit more showy than my previous piece. It was a criss-cross, cut-out lingerie. Lines of maroon fabric danced around my skin in a way that exposed the curve of my breasts, and connected to a simple, red thong. I walked out quicker than last time, a little less nervous now that the initial nervousness of appearing naked in front of him had faded. 
Despite my nervousness fading, it seemed like his had only increased. I’d only caught a glimpse of it in my hurried departure from my room to his line of sight, but had he.. been adjusting his crotch area?
 No. No. I mean, maybe he was turned on, but that was a completely normal reaction to a half-naked girl in front of a man. To my knowledge, Spencer hadn’t dated anyone in 2 years either, so it was completely possible he also had pent-up desires. This was normal. Spencer Reid did not feel the same way for me, not in the same way as I did for him. 
He quickly looks up and his hands are by his side in record speed. “This one is.. Wow.” He marvels, his eyes boring into my body. “Your breasts. They look great.” 
I can’t help the giggle that escapes me, a part of me secretly delighted that even if this was friendly, Spencer was enamored with my body in the way I’d always wished he would be. 
“Was that too much?” Spencer questions, upon hearing my laugh. “I’m only being honest. Your breasts look nice in this one. My eyes immediately went there with this piece.” 
I smile. “No, no. That’s what I need from you, anyway. That’s what I want my date to do too, anyway.” I say, dismissing his worries. 
“Right. Your date.” He says, curtly. 
I raise an eyebrow at the snippy reply, but don’t think much of it. “So.. the last one then?” 
“Yep. The last one.” 
“Right..” I mumble, going back to my room, slightly confused by the sudden change in demeanor, but ready to get this over with nonetheless. 
The last piece was a lot more revealing, in the sense that my nipples were exposed from the get-go with this one. A lavender slip, with transparent lace covering the breasts, and the silky fabric stopping right below my crotch. It was a bit more daring, but I still enjoyed the way it framed my curves, my hips, and my breasts. I wondered what Spencer would think, and out of modesty, I placed both my hands over my nipples, wanting to show the lingerie without fully exposing myself to him. 
I walk out, and this time, his gaze is intense. More so than I’d ever seen him in our years of friendship. 
“Spence..?” I ask, when he’s silent for a beat too long.
“Turn around.” He says, firmly, and I find myself listening instantly, baring my back to him, and no doubt he’s focusing on the way the fabric wrapped around my ass, leaving me slightly flustered and more on display than I’d ever felt tonight. 
“Spencer? Come on. Say something. Feeling a bit like cattle right now.” I voice, laughing a little nervously.
When I hear his voice again, I nearly jump out of my skin because he’s right behind me, his hands ghosting across my bare shoulders. 
“Don’t go.” He whispers, his hot breath fanning around my neck, sending shivers up my spine. 
I’m too nervous to turn around, so I keep my hands planted firmly on my breasts and murmur out my confusion. 
“What?” 
“Don’t go.” He repeats, more firmly this time, and I can feel his hand moving to grip my hip, orienting me to face him. “Please.” 
“Why not?” I ask, softly, my eyes wide as I try to read his expression. His pupils were dilated to the size of saucers, and I could feel his hands moving to cup my face, bringing us even closer. 
“I’d be an idiot to have not at least tried.” He whispers. “I’m sorry for doing this now. I’m sorry if this ruins everything. But I couldn’t live with myself if I didn’t try.” 
I feel my confusion bubbling up, my eyebrows furrowing a little bit. “Why.. what is this? Is this because of the lingerie?” I ask, my lips parting slightly. 
“No. God no.” I can see him emphatically shaking his head at my rumination. “This has been coming for a long time.” He murmurs. “I thought I could ignore it, but I can’t. I can’t physically stand the thought of someone worshiping you the way I’d like to.” He rasps out, and I feel my heart jump, my breath coming out faster. 
When I’m silent, unable to respond,  his fingers run across my lips. “Can I kiss you?” He whispers. 
I nod, and it’s like he’s been waiting all night, and then some. His grip on my face tightens and he brings me in for a searing, earth-shattering kiss. His lips move over mine desperately, and I feel his grip shifting to bring my hands off my breasts, and to replace them with his own, his hands now pawing and squeezing at the flesh, which draws a soft moan from me. 
He throws his head back at the noise, leaning to kiss my neck. “Fuck yes.” He mumbles, seemingly goaded on by the noises slipping through my lips. “I’ve wanted this for so long.” He groans out, to no one in particular, just wanting to get the words out there somehow. 
I nod rapidly, and his hands are on my hips again, guiding me to the couch and laying me down. I move easily in his grasp,  a slight gasp escaping me as he climbs on top. His thumb goes to graze my jaw, leaning in for another kiss. It’s less rushed this time, slow and passionate. His tongue darts out to swipe over my bottom lip, and I open my mouth easily for him, reveling in the sweetness of how he tasted. 
He breaks off the kiss and moves down, kissing my breast between the lace. His tongue goes out to wet the fabric, and I’m arching my back at the sensation of the rough lace and the warm wetness now rubbing against the sensitive skin.
“You taste so good.” He mumbles. “God. Why did I wait so long?” 
“No clue.” I whimper out, desperately. “But don’t stop.” 
“I’m not stopping.” He says, gruffly, moving to bunch up the fabric of the slip until it pooled around my waist, exposing my dripping cunt to him. 
“I can’t stand the thought of another man touching you like this.” He whispers, his finger running up and down my wet folds, causing me to moan out needily. 
“Shh, shh, baby.” He murmurs. “You’ll get what you want soon enough.” 
Without warning, he easily slides two fingers inside me, and I can’t help but wonder if he was made for me. Given the way he effortlessly reached that spongy spot so deep inside me, I was compelled to say yes. The action prompted me to release a string of desperate moans and whimpers, increasing in octave with every second he pumped the digits in and out of me. 
“Yeah, you like that?” He mumbles, almost entranced with the way my cunt was sucking him in, tightening around his finger with each second he continued. 
“Yes. Yes, oh God.” I moan out, my eyes squeezing shut. 
“Open your eyes.” he demands, his thumb now darting out to rub harsh, tight circles on my clit. “I want to see your face when you come on my fingers.” 
My eyes snap open, and I can’t help it when I release another moan and feel my orgasm absolutely shred through me. My hips raise in an attempt to move off Spencer’s fingers, but he manages to follow my movement, nursing me through my orgasm, and watching every second of it. 
When it's over, he removes his finger and brings it up to his lips, sensually tasting my release right in front of me, never breaking eye contact- and the sight itself makes me need him all over again. 
I pull him in by the collar of his shirt, and my hands move to remove his buttons, wanting to feel his skin on mine. He laughs a bit and admonishes me, removing my shaky fingers. 
“Let me.” He mumbles, leaning back between my spread legs, and removing the clothing, before moving to his belt. 
I bite my lip as he hovers over me, and kiss him again. I can’t get enough of him. He’s all I wanted for so long, and here he is- mirroring my desire in the way I’d always hoped he would. 
“No man-” He breathes out, in between kisses, “could do this for you.” 
I nod in affirmation, continuing to kiss him. No argument there. 
“No man deserves to.” He adds, possessively, and it’s enough to make me clench around nothing, and I know at that point I’m more desperate for him than I had been the whole night. 
“Spence, please.” I groan out. “Need you.” 
He understands immediately and wastes no time, pulling himself out from his boxers, giving himself a few tugs before pushing inside of me, groaning as he feels my warm, wet walls grasp onto his cock. 
He remains there for a second, allowing me to adjust to his size. When he looks at my face again, and I nod, he starts to move, pulling out until only his tip remains inside of me, before slamming in. My jaw drops in a silent scream, and my hands go to grip his shoulders, and with the confirmation I was enjoying myself, he set on a ruthless pace, snapping his hips over, and over again, until I was reduced to a babbling mess in front of the man. 
He’s all I can feel at this point. His hands on my breasts, my hips, before he eventually rests both hands on either side of me and envelops me in his being. I can smell him, and the familiar scent only serves to tighten the coil in my stomach, reminding me that this was someone I’d loved so deeply for so long. Someone who was interwoven into the fiber of my being, and I know this is all I want, and all I’ll ever want. 
As we both feel our releases coming on at an alarming pace, he leans up to kiss me one more time, moaning against my mouth. I feel myself whimper before I feel my walls contract around his cock, my orgasm causing my back to arch even closer to him. The clamping of my cunt seems to drive him to finish too, and a warmth fills my deepest point as he groans into my ear, pulling out and lying against me. The two of us are panting, sweat sticking to both of our bodies and hair, lost in the post-sex haze and enjoying the proximity. 
He kisses my jaw and I giggle out and give a soft moan. “God.” I whisper. 
“Yeah.” He murmurs against my skin, and I can feel his smile. “Are you canceling your date then?” He says, a slight bit of glee in his voice. 
I giggle a little, finding his delight adorable and endearing. “Yes, Spencer. Obviously.” I murmur. 
“Good.” He whispers, laying his head on my chest. There’s a lull of quiet as my hands stroke through his hair, smoothing it out from our illicit activities just a moment ago. I can hear his grin as he breaks the silence. 
“Guess you could say I liked this piece the best.” 
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hiii!! omg. this took a while. yes this is more of a valentines day fic and its a bit late but hey!! got it out in february. this was actually written for @imagining-in-the-margins new beginnings challenge, so go ahead and check that out when you can. i hope you guys like this one. as usual, please reblog, like, comment, and show your support any way you can. thank you for reading, and i hope it was enjoyable <333 ty ty ty!!
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rafeandonlyrafe · 2 months
Text
safe
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words: 1.1k
warnings: home break in (not really described though), drug dealer!rafe and reader, pregnant!reader, husband!rafe
“r-rafe.” your voice is timid and shaky, so unlike what rafe is normally used to hearing. he instantly knows something is off, wrong.
“baby, what is it?” rafe asks into the phone, wishing he could see your face right now, could read the emotion in your expression.
“something uh-something happened. the police are here.”
“shit, are you alright?” rafe is suddenly moving away from the party, needing the noise of music from the live band and people talking and laughing to stop drowning out your words. “is the baby alright? did barry get caught?”
“yeah, we are both fine.” you press your hand against your stomach, the spot your baby always kicks, glad when you feel her stomp against your skin, reminding you she's okay, even if you don't currently feel like you are. “its not the business. there were some um… robbers.”
“what?” rafe shouts, knowing he probably just made you jump over the phone, but he can't help the loud reaction, needing more information, and needing it now.
“yeah they came into the house. i hid in the closet, but they found me. they didn't do anything, just shoved me a bit. they did take a lot of the jewelry you got me, i don't know what else, you'll have to talk to the police and give them a full invento-”
“shit, y/n!” rafe interrupts you. “i don't care about our stuff! i only care about you and the baby. im coming home right now.”
“okay.” you whisper over the phone. “im sitting on the front porch.”
“and police are watching you?” rafe asks, hurrying to his car, not bothering to explain to anyone his sudden leaving as he tears out of the parking lot.
“yeah, they're here. don't worry, im safe. i don't think they even had weapons, at least none that i saw.” rafe can hear you take a shuddering breath, his heart breaking that he wasn't there with you, foot pressing down even harder on the pedal to get him there faster. “the police think they broke in and expected no one to be home because of midsummers.”
you look down, rubbing your hand over your belly. “guess they didn't expect me to be home because none of my heels fit anymore and even the maternity dresses make me look like a whale.” you mean it as a joke, but it has tears flowing down your eyes, wishing you would have just sucked up your insecurities and gone with rafe. you still would have got robbed, but without the trauma of being there during the break in.
“im two minutes, baby. two minutes and you'll be safe in my arms.” rafe tries to keep his voice calm for you, but it's a struggle.
“i… i just wanna be safe.” you mutter the last words of the call, voice breaking as you begin to sob. rafe hears an officer try to calm you, but he knows it won't work, knows the only thing you need is him.
he parks haphazardly behind the police cars, fully blocking the street without a care in the world, not even taking the car keys out as he runs across the yard, sprinting until he reaches you.
“im here.” his arms are finally around your shoulders. “im here.”
you continue to sob, only lessened by pressing your face into rafes chest as he cradles you, even managing to pull you onto his lap despite your protruding baby bump.
“ive got you, princess.” rafe kisses the top of your head, continuing his reassuring words, the police officers giving you some space, but not retreating any farther than the steps leading onto the porch.
“oh my god, i was so scared.” you whine out, managing to blink back your tears enough to look at rafe.
“im so sorry baby.” rafe sighs. “i should have been here.”
“no.” you shake your head. “you had to go to midsummers. it's okay.”
“as soon as you said you weren't coming, i should have canceled it. should have never left my pregnant wife at home alone. im the worst fucking husband.” rafe knows his words aren't comforting, but he needs to make sure you know that he is the one to blame for what happened.
“what?” you press your fingers against rafes cheeks. “you couldn't have known, baby.”
“i still should have been here.” rafe leans in, taking your mouth in a strong kiss. “i love you, baby.”
“oh my god, you're not gonna leave my side for the next year, are you?” you let out a tiny laugh, the noise relieving rafe, loosening some of the tension in his chest.
“definitely not, my love.” rafe pulls you closer.
“thank you for coming so quickly.” you whisper, letting your head rest against rafes chest. “i really am okay. just freaked out.”
“don't worry, baby.” rafes voice suddenly changes tone. “the second they try to sell any of your jewelry, ill find them. they won't make it far at all. ill make sure they can never hurt you or anyone else ever again.”
you know you should tell rafe to let the police handle it, to not get personally involved in clearly dangerous men, but any man who lays their hands on a pregnant woman doesn't deserve to breathe, let alone only be punished to a few months in jail like what would no doubtabley happen if you went the legal way.
“im surprised you haven't called barry already.” you laugh softly, knowing he will be just as pissed as rafe. you came into their life and helped expand the business, turning them from lowly dealers to something bigger, better. still dealing, of course, but offering protection and other services as well.
“figure id let the police leave first.” rafe rubs your back, glad that you're slowly getting back to your jokey and sharp witted self. “before he insisted on being your personal armed guard until those guys are put in the ground.”
“yeah, once baby girl pops, im going to have to ask him to teach me to shoot. just in case anything like this happens again.” you feel bad that you relied so heavily on rafes protection, that you let yourself slack to the point where an emergency arose and you hid in the closet instead of grabbing a glock.
“hey, what about me?” rafe whines, knowing he'd never let another man teach you how to shoot, not even your joint business partner barry.
“fine.” you joke, sighing and sliding off rafes lap. “you better go talk to the police about what else might be missing. i wouldn't let them snoop around.”
you don't keep anything illicit in your house, but just in case you weren't about to give the law open access to your home.
“in a minute.” rafe keeps his arms around you, not willing to let you move too far from his hold. “need to just keep my wife in my arms for a few minutes longer.”
you look out onto the sky, the stars glimmering in the darkness of light, allowing yourself to take a full, deep breath, at peace held in your husband's arms.
taglist: @winterrrnight @bejeweledreverie @drewstarkeyslut @forstarkey @f4ll-for-you @dilvcv @drudyslut @jjmaybankswifes-blog @rafescokenostril @jjsmarijuana @seeingstarks @angelofcigs @cece45450 @babygorewhore @vanessa-rafesgirl @michelleisheres-blog @outerbankspov @drewstarkeyswifehoe @cutielando @kamninaries @buckyswhxre @rafeinterlude @bellbottombaby @deeaardiary @rubixgsworld @wearemadeofstardust0 @leighbronk @starkeysheart @pradabambie @tobesolovelysstuff @alexiskirkland @rafestar @brioffthegrid
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Text
slowly, i'm going down
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access full masterlist here!
pairing: song mingi x reader (no pronouns mentioned, reader has female anatomy)
au/genre: college!au, tutor!reader, mingi does not give a shit about studying, smut
word count: 4816 words
warnings: voice kink (AHHHHH), oral and fingering (reader receiving), reader is a little mean, kitchen sex, anime references, cringe, a joke about adhd, dirty talk... um..., oh right Mingi has a big dick (wbk), everyone's a little silly, unprotected sex (boo ‼️👎🏻), premature ejaculation almost, creampie, cum eating... (not reader...), i think that's it. NOT PROOF READ YET!!
synopsis: mingi hates studying, but what he hates way more than that is being perceived as stupid. what mingi loves on the other hand, are pretty people getting flustered about his voice
or
mingi shows you exactly what he hates and loves.
a/n: i was almost ready when i saw this tiktok and it completely blocked my mind because it's SO FUNNY, but at the same time, it's men being dudes, dudes being bros, and that kind of made it hard for me to continue. i apologize for the 24h delay 😞
taglist: @byuntrash101 @goquokka @ashwoodforest @choisansnotsolegalwife
Mingi is not one to sit there and look at books. Or papers. Or anything that doesn't move and feed his brain with bright colors and his ears with noises, really. He prefers to vibe, and studying is definitely not the vibe. Sadly, studying is a part of his life as a university student. Yes, he chose this path for himself and yes, he was aware that it would involve studying. Still, now that it's really happening and is not just an obstacle to overcome in the far, far future, Mingi kind of wishes he'd chosen something else to do with his life. It's just exhausting, why would he waste the precious time he has left on planet earth on something that doesn't get the serotonin floating? He's pretty sure he has some undiagnosed ADHD simmering up there, but who is he to judge that? He's certainly not studying to become a doctor or whatever.
Anyway, given the fact that Mingi doesn't like to study, he's not had much experience with it in the first place. He's barely gotten his way through school, but uni is a different level. Hence, he needs someone to 1) teach him how to study and 2) make him study, or rather: have a judging eye on him while he is supposed to study, so the fear of being called out on it may light a fire under his ass and force him to bury his nose between the stinky pages of an old library book (on that note: he also needed someone to show him how to check out books from the library).
And that's why you are here, every Thursday afternoon, sitting at the sad excuse of a kitchen counter slash dining table in Mingi's scandalously expensive apartment given its size, growling next to him every time you catch him analyzing the bumps on his wallpapers instead of the letters on the pages.
Mingi generally likes you, even though you are a bit scary, he has to admit, or maybe that's the appeal. You are polite, but you have a way of looking at him that makes him feel like he's getting mansplained by your eyes. Your taunting gaze on him makes him feel small, and he doesn't like that at all. It makes him feel like all these years of drinking milk to make him stand at the 1.84m he is at today were in vain. You always have that one expression on your face, and maybe that's just Mingi's subconsciousness telling him to STUDY HARD FOR GOD'S SAKE, but in the way your eyebrows would scrunch together just the tiniest bit, he reads: God, he is fucking stupid.
He doesn't know which (since he did not pay attention in biology class, nor is he even sure they teach that in biology class) chemical in his brain suffers an allergic reaction every time you look at him like that, but there has to be one. There is nothing that Mingi hates more than being called stupid. Well, except for studying, maybe.
Call him lazy, call him a scalawag, call him witty for being able to get through all of school without reading a single one of the set books if you must, but do not call him stupid.
The only problem is that you haven't, well, called him stupid per se. It's just how Mingi interprets your stares. Also, he desperately needs you because he doubts there will be many other contestants that are okay with getting paid as little as you are (which is all Mingi has left by the end of a month full of Pokémon trading cards). So Mingi just has to sit back and relax and simply take it because, apparently, that's what he gets for not studying his entire life.
A loud ringing wakes Mingi from his peaceful afternoon nap - one that he has really earned this time around, he managed to look through his study notes for a full 20 minutes during his lunch break!
Disoriented, Mingi raises his head to make out his location and what year he is in. It rings again. Slowly, Mingi recognizes the shrill sound as his door bell. He slowly gets up, a quick glance in the mirror tells him that his hair is an absolute mess (which is really a crowning achievement given his buzz cut length) and he has imprint marks from his blanket all over his right cheek, but his sleepy mind doesn't even take it in. Mingi furrows his brows and shakes his head. Who would dare to disturb his peaceful slumber at this ungodly hour (4pm)?
The answer, of course, stands right in front of his door. With your arms crossed and the tip of your shoe drumming a dent into Mingi's "come in if you're a silly baka"-door mat, you raise an unimpressed brow at the sleepy shell of Mingi that blinks one eye after the other.
A few seconds pass until Mingi finally realizes who you are, and his mouth forms an 'o'-shape. Immediately after, he furrows his brows once again, his body slumping forward a bit because: why on God's green earth are you here? Then, it hits him like a truck, the aftermath of the collision blowing the remaining sleep out of his eyes: it's Thursday afternoon!
"Sorry," he says and sheepishly scratches the back of his head, then steps aside to let you enter.
"It's fine, it's only freezing cold outside," you stare at him before stepping in, shudder as you kick your shoes off, slip into Mingi's guest slippers and hurry inside. Mingi's brain does not register the sarcasm drenching your words.
"Let's get to it, shall we?" You ask as Mingi finally manages to follow you into the kitchen. You sit, take out a few sheets of paper from your backpack, then look over questioningly as Mingi has not even moved a millimeter, but instead started yawning like his life depends on it. Your eyes drift down his body. "Or maybe after you've put on some pants?"
Mingi freezes, looks down to confirm that, indeed, he's not wearing pants, but Naruto boxer shorts, then covers his crotch with his hands and buzzes off into his room.
Minutes later, Mingi reenters the kitchen, a pair of sweatpants hanging low on his hips that, yes, he checked twice if he's wearing them the right way around. As mentioned, he is generally unable to properly focus on his studies, but today, it's exceptionally bad. Of course, you'd notice.
"Mingi, are you okay?" There's worry in your eyes – a sight Mingi has not seen. Ever.
"I'm fine, just tired," he mumbles, eyes unfocusing as he stares ahead.
"Yeah, you are? Why?" Mingi's tired mind cannot question why you suddenly seem so interested in his well-being. He also doesn't put any meaning into why you're scooting closer to him, your forearm accidentally touching his.
"I studied during my lunch break," Mingi informs you, a little, proud smile tugging at the corners of his mouth. Something tingles inside his chest as you carefully place your hand on his arm. As he looks over at you, you smile at him, and he notices your gaze flickering down to his lips for a second.
Hold on. Mingi's mind suddenly snaps out of its hazy state and works on overdrive. He might be the type to vibe, the type to just let things play out, but he'd be damned if he didn't notice when someone likes him like that. He suddenly notices the way you started creating skin-on-skin contact with him, the way you want to be closer to him, eyeing him even more than you ever did before. Just... why? Is it because you saw him in his Anime panties?
A few moments pass, and you sit back, then pat your pencil against the book to remind him of the reason why you're actually here. Mingi groans, admittedly a little dramatically and unreasonably erotic, brushing a hand through his hair to flex his biceps right in front of your face. You seem unimpressed.
"Well, fuck me," he chuckles deeply, the rasp in his voice more evident than usual due to his nap. It's then when you tense, he notices from the corner of his eye. Oh. Okay. So it's the voice?
"I'm really glad you're tutoring me, you know?" He purrs, throwing in a little praise to get you extra bothered, and you simply breathe out nervously.
"Heh, no worries," you brush him off. Mingi decides that, for now, he's made you suffer enough and keeps quiet. Instead, he focusses on his studies, although he's already planning his next step to terrorize you with the sultry rasp his vocal cords are gifted with.
"Mingi, focus-"
"No, I get what I have to do, the contents just won't stay in my head." Mingi reasons, his voice unusually, but not by chance, high pitched, eyebrows scrunched as to why the hell he has to do this before doing that only to do whatever next when it wasn't like this for the other exercise he had to do minutes prior. He is not stupid (!), he does understand how this works. It's just that it doesn't make sense, and that is surely not his fault.
"Are you stup-" you start, but shut your mouth before you're even able to call him the dumbest fucker you've ever crossed paths with. Mingi inhales sharply. Oh, oh, you're lucky he is patient, and you're lucky he knows that as soon as he growled a few dirty words into your ear, you'd slam your upper body on the counter without regards of caution, pushing your panties down under your skirt and begging him to take you right there - or at least, that's what he imagines.
Yes, Mingi is super patient, that's just what comes with the entire vibe-personality package, so he does not dump your cute sorry ass on his baka-door mat, but simply closes his pen, lays it on the table and looks at you. A fabulous idea plops into his mind.
"God," he groans as deeply as he can, stretching his arms over his head, "I guess I'm just a little" - he throws in a little moany sigh - "a little distracted today."
"A-are you?" You nod, biting your lip subconsciously. Mingi looks at you without moving his head. "Why?"
"Well, just stuff, you know?" Mingi enjoys how the rumble in his voice makes his throat and - obviously - you feel. "There's just a lot, going on. Like big... big stuff. Stuff that just keeps coming and coming, in and out, just like that. Ugh, I wish I could just let all this frustration out you know, all this pent up stuff." He watches for your reaction.
Unmistakably, your hand holding your own pen in a relaxed manner mere seconds ago now desperately grasps the poor objects until your knuckles turn white, your breathing is uneven and loud as if you'd just ran the entire way from Mingi's place to the next convenience store (seriously, why the fuck is he paying so much for this godforsaken apartment?). And - Mingi's favorite reaction to him ever: you're pressing your thighs together.
Oh, how Mingi loves himself a good reaction like this.
"Big stuff, huh?" Your voice trembles as your nervous eyes search for his. "H-how big?"
"Oh, really big. Just really fucking big," Mingi confirms with a slight smirk. He loves how you just fold easily like that. One second, you're over there feeling superior on your little throne of knowledge that Mingi lacks, and the next, you're making a little mess in your panties just because Mingi so much as spoke. Absolutely incredible. People should start calling him "the rizzler".
"I think-" you clear your throat, "I think I should head home then?"
Mingi smiles to himself as soon as you turn away to pack your stuff into your backpack. His hands automatically reach out to play with his pen, his long, slender fingers toying with the object, inevitably drawing your attention to the movements. "Already?"
"Mhm." You stare a second too long, gulp, then hastily stuff your belongings into the big compartment of the backpack, Mingi listens to the sweet melody of stressed breathing and papers crunching.
As amused as he is, he decides that it is time for the big reveal.
"Keep it in your pants, baby" he looks over, his eyebrow halfway raised, and stops rocking back and forth and fiddling with the pencil as you freeze in your tracks and stop packing. "What?"
Slowly, you turn your head to look at him. "So you know?" You manage to squeak.
Mingi smugly pushes his tongue into his cheek. He loves how you're basically vibrating out of nervousness. "Oh, I know."
You sigh, hands finally letting go of your stuff and motioning defeat. He wonders what's going on in your mind right now. Are you afraid he's going to call you out? That he's going to make fun of you? That he's going to call you a needy slut and send you home? Or are you wondering if he's going to give you what you want? Mingi loves this game.
That's why he decides to make your situation a little more miserable.
"I also know that you think I'm stupid," he explains calmly, trying his best to no longer show any excitement, smugness, or any emotion whatsoever on his sharp facial features to really confuse you. Well, that's what you're getting for (almost) calling The Song Mingi stupid. Just a little payback, is all. He's not going to go so far and make you cry. No, no, Mingi can't handle when people cry, much less so if it's because of him.
Nevertheless, your breath hitches. Oh, you're fully aware that he didn't like you calling him that at all. Oh, how the gears are turning behind your forehead as you're trying to figure out what's going on, and what's going to go on in the next minutes.
"Thought so," Mingi deadpans. Yeah, that's right. Look how smart he is now! Super smart! He's got you all figured out. He knows exactly what to say and how to act to make you feel - and, fuck, does this feel like redemption - stupid.
"I'm sorry-" you start, back facing Mingi's form, but Mingi is not here for it. Mingi has gotten what Mingi wants. Mingi feels as powerful as he imagines a lion to feel, like, every day.
"Dumb fucks good," he simply states, just putting it out there, throwing it into the room for you to do with that statement whatever you like. Mingi's mind is already satisfied, his ego stroked because he's just proven that he isn't dumb. Although... he wouldn't mind a little diddling because, if he's being honest, you're hot as fuck and seeing you react to him in this way- well, he's also just a man!
"What?" You probably think you must've terribly misheard him as you whip your head around to face the confident Mingi smugly leaned back in his chair. Your eyes meet his, and he is sure that you now realize that, no, you definitely did not mishear him. That was exactly what he said.
In the blink of an eye, Mingi feels your presence on his lap, a last final look into his eyes before he feels your lips against his, desperately chewing away the remaining air separating his spit from yours. It's messy, lips colliding, too much teeth and tongue, but it's all raw and desperate. Mingi gets the vibes that you may have had some pent up want for him, but that's honestly the last clear thought he can muster before you grind your hips against his.
A deep groan escapes Mingi's lips, inevitably echoing against your own quiet gasps that just turn louder with every movement of your hips, your hands frantically trying to touch him everywhere at once to the point where he has to grab your arms and pull you back. Your eyes, wide. And confused, but somehow lidded and hazy at the same time struggle to take in Mingi in front of you. Yes, Mingi is aware of the effect of his siren eyes.
For another moment, he simply enjoys seeing how destroyed you look already, but honestly, there is just one thing on his mind.
"I'm gonna eat you out," he informs, waiting for you to nod frantically, whine and scramble off his lap for him to keep his promise. And you do, allowing Mingi to grab your waist with his large hands and lift you onto the counter. Of course, he can't resist getting another taste of your lips, almost losing himself in the soft pillows that frame your pretty mouth, but the hardness creating a tent in his sweatpants reminds him that he should possible attend a little lower.
Hence, he kisses his way over your cheek towards your jaw, then over your neck and down your collarbones. Mingi is not sure what your opinions on love bites are, so he just hopes you can remember him being right here and here and here even without visual proof, he can save that for next time.
Okay, Mingi admittedly was not able to hold himself back completely, his teeth only gently nipping at your skin on his way down. He simply hopes for the best, but your sounds seem to imply that you do not mind him one bit. Instead, you sound as if you wouldn't mind him taking a few bites more.
Impatient as you are, you assist Mingi in pushing your shirt out of the way, the straps of your bra automatically falling down your shoulders to reveal more of you to his hungry eyes.
And as much as Mingi would like to spend hours playing with your chest, he keeps it down to a minimum, kissing the soft flesh while gently pushing the remaining material out of the way for better access. His lips wrap around a nipple, his hands meanwhile busy with massaging the other and carefully holding your waist. God, Mingi loves boobs. But he might love the way your fingers comb through his hair and gently pull on it a bit more even.
Finally, the time has come, and Mingi kneels down on the floor. Pushing your skirt up, hands caressing your thighs, he creates eye contact with your eyes glazed over by lust and want. It doesn't even faze him that he hasn't cleaned these floors in weeks, honestly, he is in so deep he probably wouldn't even realize if the stove was on, lighting his study notes on fire.
He wants to tease you more, make you wait, maybe make you beg even, but he just feels too hungry to keep waiting. His fingers hook into the hem of your panties, pulling them down your legs as quickly as possible before spreading your legs and groaning in anticipation.
Throwing your thighs over his shoulders, he pulls you forward a little further, chuckling as you almost lose balance and smile at him. Okay, maybe Mingi feels a little tingle, and maybe that is not a horny tingle, but that's something to worry about later, if ever. Right now, he has a mission: dive in.
So that's what he does, obviously, planting a careful kiss right on your clit to wait for your reaction. And you do not disappoint, gasping slightly at the first sensation before getting louder and bolder the more Mingi tastes you.
His tongue gently parts your folds, getting a first taste of your juices. You basically cry out as his tongue prods at your hole, carefully easing its way inside to caress your walls.
Automatically, your hands fly to his hair, gently pulling at the roots to find a way to ground yourself, the feeling assumingely overwhelming, Mingi thinks, not to brag, but-
Mingi's eyes roll back at a particularly hard tug at his hair, paired with the way your hips grind closer until you're basically riding his face. Fuck, how are you so hot? Mingi's fingers grab hard at your thighs, loving the way the soft flesh feels in his hands.
To experiment a little more and, first and foremost, to get more rewarding reactions out of you, Mingi lets his mouth wander back up to your clit, gently sucking the nub between his lips, his tongue carefully flicking as not to overwhelm you. At the same time, a fingers sneaks its way over to circle your entrance.
Your throat coughs out a broken moan at this, your eyes switching between looking at Mingi's eyes and his mouth, and closing completely. Mingi loves taking in the pleasure written all over your face. He might not admit it, but he loves this kind of praise much more than verbal praise because your body really can't lie. He can literally taste how good he is at this.
He finally pushes his finger inside, loving how the wetness and muscle contractions are basically pulling him deeper and deeper until past his second knuckle. He feels around a little, trying to find the spots that seem to appeal to you the most, watching carefully how you react to each and every flick of his wrist.
Although, he feels that one finger is not enough to prepare you for the rest of him, so he adds another, massaging them into the spot that seems to be making you see stars with the way you grip his hair even tighter and mutter something he interprets as a warning that you're about to cum.
Keeping his pace, he successfully sends you over the edge, letting you ride out your high on his tongue before removing his lips, only getting his fingers massage the last clenches out of you.
Looking up he realizes you look, respectfully, wrecked, with your chest heaving, your hair a little messy and your eyes hazy and glossy, parted lips asking for his. And who is he to deny them, as he leans in to allow you to taste yourself. You seem to like it.
Pulling back after a while, he looks at you. You look so happy and relaxed like he's never seen before. For some reason, it reminds him of the weight in his pants that he suddenly feels the need to inform you about.
"You make me so hard," Mingi says lowly, carefully taking your hand to prove it to you, "feel." It's more your hand guiding his with how fast you reach down to feel him, eager to touch the outline of him through the sweatpants. And as if you're getting paid to stroke Mingi's ego even more, you gasp at his size.
Mingi can't help but smirk, of course, who wouldn't?
"Big stuff, huh?" You repeat your words from earlier, but this time no longer nervous, but cheeky as you bite your lip playfully. Oh, how Mingi would love to make you choke on his dick right now, just a little, and in a loving matter, but he's honestly waited long enough and he really just needs to be in you right now. And besides, Mingi is more in his giving > receiving era.
Instead, he grins. And he feels like there is something more.
Impatiently, you tug at his pants, successfully moving them a millimeter. Mingi helps you push his pants further down until it pools around his ankles. You giggle.
Damnit, Mingi. Why couldn't you've changed your underwear? Mingi mentally scolds himself, a good amount of his previously earned smugness flying out the window. Instead, he gives you kind of a sheepish look.
"I don't mind," you assure, tugging at his anime boxers next, "it's actually relieving to be reminded that you're still the cute, dorky Mingi and are not possessed by a sex demon."
"Incubus," Mingi points out.
"I don't fucking care. Just get this hideous thing off and have sex with me!"
Mingi does not need to be told twice, although he makes a mental note to scold you later for calling the one and only Naruto printed on a piece of fabric shielding his balls from the outside world hideous.
"God, fuck," you let out, and Mingi chuckles at your reaction to his naked lower half, "come here. Please."
You pull him closer, wrap your legs around him and beg him with your eyes. Mingi wastes not another second, aligning himself with your hole and slowly pushing forwards. Your eyes roll back as he enters you, causing you to hold onto him for dear life as he inches inside, filling you completely.
God, must your walls hug him so perfectly? Must you be so unbelievably wet just for him? Must you make these sounds? Mingi feels like he doesn't want to be inside anyone else ever again.
"I feel like I don't want to inside anything else ever again."
How did that get out there?
You chuckle, and have the nerve to pinch his cheek, as if he wasn't balls deep buried inside you right now. "You're so cute."
Cute?!
Mingi will show you cute. He grabs your jaw, admittedly still gently, and makes you look at him as he pulls almost all the way out until his tip catches at your entrance. "Cute?" And he pushes in all the way all at once. You moan, the feeling too much, too intense for you to still keep your eyes open. Helplessly, you cling to Mingi's body as he repeats the action 4 more times before setting a steady rhythm, angling his hips in a way that should stimulate the spot you liked so much earlier.
With your mouth hanging open and your eyebrows scrunched, you look like the prettiest thing Mingi's ever seen. He wants to see you drool, watch you completely lose your mind over nothing else but his cock. At the same time, he is surprised how good it feels. Well, not surprised that it feels good, but that it feels abnormally good, like he's about to nut in the next minute or so. Hopefully, he's able to coax another high out of you before that.
"What was it that riled you up so much earlier? My voice?" He growls, and you as much as whimper in return. "Yeah, like it that my voice is so deep?" You nod pathetically. "Cute."
"Mingi- 's so good."
"Yeah, am I fucking you good?" Mingi grins and you nod weakly, struggling to keep your eyes open. Mingi really shouldn't be the one talking big because honestly, he feels like if u moan one more time, if ur walls clench around him one more time, he is going to lose it. Something about this entire situation is just super surreal to him, or maybe it's simply you that is the reason for his premature high that is coming for him with fast steps.
"Fuck, baby," he groans, kissing your cheek before whispering, "can I please cum inside?"
"Shit, y-yes," you confirm, nodding quickly as you fight your hardest battle to keep your eyes open, focused and on the man that's currently grinding his tip into your sweet spot. Mingi feels like he loves you.
Mingi also feels like he's loosing his grip on reality, which is why he grabs your hips harder than before, using his strength to really slam his hips into yours with force, drowning his thoughts with the sounds of your moans. There is nothing on his mind except for you, you, you, and the primal need to make you his.
"Please," he groans, not quite sure what he's begging for, but it doesn't really matter in the end, does it? All that matters is that Mingi's ears catch the way you're begging him to cum for you, to fill you up, to please, please finish inside. He is not going to deny you that wish.
His hips stutter, his mind goes numb as he feels his muscles tighten and contract, releasing deep inside you. The feeling spreads in his body, feeling high and happy with such a forceful orgasm like this one.
Everything after is just a blur in his mind, he just remembers realizing that you didn't cum a second time, and he wouldn't be Mingi if he kept it that way. That's why he found himself back on his knees seconds after pulling out, sucking your clit back into his mouth, tasting his own release that's threatening to drip out if it wasn't for his fast fingers pumping in and out of you to push you over the edge.
It doesn't take long until you do, orgasm fueled by the lewd action of Mingi eating his own cum out of you, he assumes. Somehow, you two end up in his bed after, mostly because Mingi is a cuddler, partly because Mingi is not able to let you go yet. Or ever. Who knows.
© 2023 YUTASBELLYBUTTONPIERCING all rights reserved — please DO NOT translate, take, nor repost any of my works.
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tinyorangepotato · 2 years
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Why do i have to be the optimistic one. God i can think of almost every way that everything can go wrong and be cynical and assholish about everything in my mind but everyone else is that way on the outside too and so i gotta stay opimistic. Well, i dont got to but if i dont no one else will and then we are all just miserable. Like my coworkers are horrible people who i would never talk to outside of work itself and talking about the people coming in over the border and how they're all just greedy and selfish or whatever and its like have you ever considered that they aren't like that and they are trying to make a better life and you guys are assholes and cynical. (man i really jsut like repeating adjectives huh). And like i gotta be patient too because theres no reason not to be. Being impatient expecially in conversations is horrible beucase then you get irritated then the person youre talking to is irritated and it makes everything jsut worst so why do it. like my grandma asked me 3 times if i was sleeping (i wasnt i jsut had my head under the covers) and i repsonded saying no every time and so my cousin that was standing next to her stepped and and went "she said no already" like he was annoyed. and like whats the point of that. you weren't apart of that conversation and now youre annoyed and becuase you had an attitude with that one single sentence you jsut said, she is too. Like bro theres no reason for it just wait a little bit or repsond better and then no one gets pissed. like it easy. And people that are already irritated and impatient at something else just takes it out on other things for no reason and its like jsut dont???? You can be annoyed at something and at the same time patient with something else. Theres no reason to make other peoples lives (and yours) worse becuase youre not super happy. You can still be kind even if youre going though something. You dont have to alwasy see the worst in everything beucase something bad is going on. you can see the good, you jsut gotta stop focusing on the bad and its not as difficult as it seems really. Like constantly ill think that ugh i dont want to go somewhere becuase itll be hot, adn there will be too many people, and everything expensive, and i have to drive for a while, and i gotta get gas which aslo costs moeny, adn i wont even have /that/ good of a time; but i dont beucase if you focus on that then you will have an even worse time. Focus on oh i get to hang out with my friends and look at cool homemade items and go do something outside of the normal wake up, work, and sleep routine and all that. Theres the "dont get me started" game that ive seen a couple times on tumblr and dude i would be so good at that beucase i can find almost anything that would make something unenjoyable and all that but everyone else can point things out like that too so i gotta take a step back and see the good side and rationalize it too instead.
This went absolutly no where but god i hate that I can't be annoyed or cynical or disrespectful ebcuase everyone else is and so whats the point. I should try to balance it out beucase once you dont see the good, theres no reason to so absooutely anything.
#tiny talking#tiny vent#<- i guess#im planning on taking my friends out for one of their birthday dinners on thrusday (their actual birthdate is sunday)#and so im planning and choosing where we are gonna eat and all that and im so meh about any choice most of the time#but so are the 3 of them so i gotta do it or no one else will. i have to make the plans or no one else will#i have to be like 'hey theres a bbq want to come' or no one else will#and samw with jsut actaully hanging out. yes im the only one with a car rn but still. like you guys can plan shit too and ill just ahve#to be in charge of getting us there. god it would be so nice#but everyone else doesn't seem to do nice things like that and so i gotta#and it is nice to do even though usually i dont ahve that good of a time but its still soemthing nice to do in general#like last year for my 'birthday' to me and also for my friend. i took us to the ren fair that was going on#so i paid for the tickets (it was a little under like 80 dolalrs or soemthing)#I had to go get them then drive an hour and a half to go to the damn thing. I had to make the plans. I paid for everything i wanted.#i didnt pay for gas becuase the one other person with moeny was kind enough to usually send me some gas moeny but still#its a lot of give and barely any take. like i think last years birthday was one of the worst technically. i didnt do anything. i didnt ge#t a cake until like a month after. i got no presents from my friends. i tihnk only like 4 family members wished me a hppy birthday.#just nothign. and like i dont like to be the center of attention but also. i do nice things for everyone else adn even though im the driver#it would still be nice if they planned (and confirmed with me obv) to hang out and see a movie or some shit idk#fucking so much give so little take which im fine with beucase it makes me feel good to be able to amke others have a good time#but still it would be nice to be on the reverse here and there but i dont think thats really gonna happen anytime soon.maybe once i get#my own place with my friend. itll be like he comes home with a cake and the other 2 and we hang out with a casual 'party'#but fuck man i dont even know if that would even happen. wishful thinking i guess but ykniw#anyways this went a whoel nother direction once i got back into the tags which i was planning on stopping doing but too late#guess i once again jsut wanted to get osmething ive been thinking of off my mind
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Coriolanus snow x fem!reader
She is sejanus’s twin sister and is just as anti hunger games as he is and Coriolanus always has a crush on her but since she is his best friends sister…😏
The Plinth Prize | Coriolanus Snow
Pairing: Coriolanus Snow x fem!Plinth!reader, Sejanus Plinth x twin sister!reader
Summary: You were everything he detested, perhaps that's what made him fall.
Warning/s: fluff, Coriolanus having some possessive thoughts, him actually liking Sejanus in this, possible grammar and spelling mistakes
Author's note: This one is really short, but I do believe that it's sweet enough. This for sure is not my best work, but I tried.
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The Plinth family.
Truly everything had changed once Strabo, Sejanus, his twin sister (Y/N) and Mrs. Plinth who called "Ma" known as the Plinth family arrived in the Capitol. Well, more like bought your way to the Capitol.
Coriolanus Snow knew that anybody in their right mind would know that they bought their way in the Capitol because he knew that you really have to have a lot, and I mean A LOT, of money to come and live from the District 2 in the Capitol and give your two children an opportunity to attend to the Capitol's Academy of all places.
So Coriolanus must admit to himself, at first he was sceptic as hell. They were from District after all. They had no place here.
But he should've known better than to judge a book by its cover.
The Plinth twins were really something else.
The moment he met Sejanus he thought that he was annoying as hell. However, he soon realized that Sejanus kind of grew on him.
He was a kid with a kind heart, there was no denying that. He was stubborn, too. But most of all, he was so against the government's decision to hold the Hunger Games and that would annoy the hell out of Coriolanus because Sejanus had a bad tendency to speak of it out loud, with no filter, and that would often get him in a bit trouble.
The trouble that Coriolanus would often have to help him get out of. Coriolanus didn't really mind it, Sejanus was like his brother after all, but he just wished that he would stop being so reckless.
Coriolanus truly felt like he could have a heart attack, cold sweat consumed him, every single time Sejanus spoke. It honestly left him feeling anxious.
He just wished for that to stop, and once he met you it was anything but.
The moment you two shook hands after Sejanus introduced Coriolanus to his twin sister, you, he felt like the last breath was knocked out of his lungs. His chest tightened as he looked at you.
You were radiant. He thought that your beauty was unmatched. The way you carried yourself, your hair, your piercing eyes that were the exact copy of your brother, your smile, your everything, it was just perfect for him.
You were perfect for him.
From that day on he couldn't stop thinking about you and one day in class was an opportunity for him to see even more of you.
As Dr. Gaul talked about the genius of the Hunger Games, Sejanus and you snapped.
In a way he was surprised (but than again, not really) as he watched your interaction and realized that you were as much anti-games as Sejanus was.
Great.
Just great.
Now he had to look out after one more wild Plinth child. Not that he minded. He knew it shouldn't be that way, but this personality trait made you even more attractive than he thought it was possible.
As he watched you talk, his piercing blue eyes locked onto your figure watching you talk passionately, he realized that even though you're from District, that you were anti-games, and even though you were a Plinth of all people, he fell in love with you.
There was no denying that.
Perhaps, if he somehow couldn't win the Plinth Prize you would be good enough to keep, maybe even better. His, better, version of the Plinth Prize.
God, the Plinth twins are really going to ruin him.
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TAGLIST:
@hellonheels-x @especiallythewomenandthechildren @prettyinsatiable @caroline-books @runningfrom2am @10ava01 @thecrowdedstreetin1944
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hyewka · 10 months
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can i suggest a fic where beomgyu is helping take the reader’s mind off a bad breakup…. by fucking the living SHIT out of her NDJDNDJDJDJ
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while i fuck you straight | c.bg
warnings; hard dom best friend!gyu, sub!reader, unprotected + pullout method, breeding kink, a spank or two, praise + degradation (mostly praise), slut shaming, rough marking, a tinge of possessiveness, friends w/ benefits, no romantic feelings involved (or are there?), ruined orgasm, princess pet name, beomgyus an insatiable manwhore lol, needy perv gyu with a lot of spit play, fingering, titty sucking hehe, literal messy filth and also barely proofread on my end
a/n; have to thank jazmine with all my heart for proof reading and giving suggestions, i love you so much 😭 @heart2beom this shouldn’t be a big deal as it is, but it is my first time writing full on dom beomgyu so it is this mini celebration for me and all the dom!gyu enthusiasts (i hope) 😇 reblogs are appreciated, keeps me going
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You held your phone above your face, scrolling mindlessly through your socials, though subconsciously, you were really just awaiting a call from your boyfriend. Well, now ex-boyfriend. It's already been a week since you got dumped but no matter what went down that day, you couldn't get over him.
It was pitiful every time you jumped up from your bed at a notification just to find it was in fact not your ex asking to take you back and ...just a random spam email.
Beomgyu had his back against your bed, legs sprawled on the floor, also on his phone. You guys had run out of things to talk about when every conversation spun its way back to your ex- Seen that new avengers movie? You wanted to watch it with your boyfriend. That professor just got fired! You remember your boyfriend used to complain about that class. Gosh, you don’t think you’ll ever get over him.
"You're miserable." Beomgyu suddenly brings up.
You groan, as you repeatedly refresh your feed. "Gee, thanks Beomgyu. That definitely doesn't make me ten times more miserable."
He lets his head fall back on your bed, looking up at you through an upside down lens, abandoning his phone. “No, like truly miserable. I’ve never seen you so up and dry and…sober. Be young, live a little.”
You narrow your eyes at him, looking past your phone for the past time in a while. “…You talk like you’re 80 years old, about to retire and wallow in self pity, having experienced all there is to life. Thanks Gyu but no thanks.”
“I’m an old soul Y/N.” He says patting his chest, and you roll your eyes. Not necessarily refuting it, it’s his entire personality. “Where’s the chick I used to know anyway. The old Y/N would’ve been over this in a day with a quick hookup rebound.”
You finally put your phone down, staring up your ceiling. He was totally right. Who else would be right about you if not Beomgyu? But you don’t want to think about your old self, or you’d start sobbing again. Not like you were a totally great person, but that person wouldn’t be so stuck on someone. Anything but being the lovesick, doting person you would’ve made fun of just a year ago. God, he really changed you hadn’t he?
You kick your feet, whining, falling into the abyss of treasured memories. “You don’t understand, he was different, he—he was the one, you know?”
He ponders for a bit, room silent, staring at you through his soft lashes, and you think that maybe he’ll give it you; sympathize and understand that grieving was the entire process of a first love. The silence is suffocating when finally, he lets out a light scoff, cutting through it. “No, no I don’t know. Bet you just got soft.”
“God, fuck you Beomgyu.”
He grins his stupid grin that the situation definitely doesn’t call for, “You wish.”
You think if he wasn’t with you through thick and thin for the past four years, you would’ve definitely developed some sort of hatred.
You could visibly notice a lightbulb spark above his head with the way he immediately sits up straight. “Hey, hey wait.”
You tentatively watch as he turns his back away from you, laying both his arms on the soft cushion of your mattress. “I think I might’ve just had the best idea ever. Of the century. The idea of the century.”
“I highly doubt that.” You say, blindly feeling the surface for your phone already.
“Just hear me out,” he whines noticing your eagerness to dismiss him. “But also don’t freak out or anything. Promise me.”
You stare at him, hesitant before you give in to his doe eyes. Sighing, you say: “Okay. I promise I won’t ‘freak’ out. What’s your groundbreaking idea?”
“We should like… fuck.”
Your brows are slow to raise, the rapidness of your blinking at what you think you just heard—no, not think, know. Beomgyu’s voice, loud and clear with his diction, your eyes widen at the final click of it all. Before you know it, you’re reaching for the pillow behind you, flinging it at him with all strength.
It’s like he predicted it prior, dodging one… and then another as you throw all remaining pillows on your bed. Instead of missing with your last one, you decide to hold on to it, and attack him with it. His smug demeanor of successfully dodging everything just a second ago, dissipates as he takes cover for protection. “Are you fucking—are you crazy?!” you yell exapserated, more than awake with your wide eyes.
“Ya! You—you promised you wouldn’t freak out!” When that doesn’t stop your mania with the damn pillow, he decides to lay it all out with as much speed as he can’t seem to escape your wrath. “You want to forget him don’t you? I mean, you should! He dumped you, it’s over! Sulking over him is—Ow! So out of character for you—fuck—I promise a one time fuck would get your mind off him.”
Your pillow is mid air, and Beomgyu opens an eye to peek, hands still in protection mode—you sigh, landing a weak hit on his head before loosening your grip. You do want to forget. You’d do anything to get rid of what you’re feeling. But…
“It—it wouldn’t change anything for me. If that’s a worry. You know that no matter what, you’re my best friend.” He finds his footing, collecting himself, looking at you with intensity you could date back to just a few times over the course of your very long friendship. “Someone I care about. I can’t stand seeing you hurt and not being able to do anything. You know that.”
You bite down on your lip, staring at the familiar boy with his familiar brown bed of hair, and his familiar eyes, lips…How fast did he get you to actually give this a thought? Probably a minute or two. Beomgyu had a way with convincing you to do …anything. “I…know. But what if, what if I’m still head over heels in love with him? What if it doesn’t change anything for me?”
A grin gradually takes over his face, one that is once again, not fitting for the situation. “Why—why are you smiling like an idiot? This is—”
“It’ll change.”
You knit your brows together. “What?”
You don’t notice the way Beomgyu’s hand slowly inched to yours but suddenly, his palm was over your hand, squeezing it just a bit. “Having sex with me is a once in a life time opportunity. You’ll forget him. I promise.”
If you weren’t so lost in his eyes, as cliché as it sounds, you would’ve been completely taken out—probably a joke on his sheer confidence because who just says that? But he’s so …hypnotizing as you don’t even take notice of the ‘okay’ that leaves your lips.
“Okay?”
“Yeah.” You exhale, “Okay. We’re adults. This won’t matter in a few weeks. Let’s do it.”
Beomgyu doesn’t hesitate for more than a few seconds before he was on your bed, crashing his lips on yours, a brief taste of strawberry lip balm, knocking a breath out of you until he slows down, testing the waters, then he stops, noses brushing against each other as he searches for something in your eyes, breathing already heavy, “Is this weird? Was that weird?”
You gulp looking down on his already glistening lips, and you nod. “The—the situation, not …the kiss. Fucking your best friend is an odd situation. The kiss…the kiss was good.” You ramble, your voice barely a whisper but he catches it anyway as you take notice of a small smile before he’s kissing you again, hands once cupping your cheeks already moving down to your tits, ministrating gently—every bit of his action seemed careful, too careful for what you know of the things your friends had told you in heated rants and swoons.
Half of the dictionary could be used to describe Beomgyu, and promiscuous was not an exclusion. You could probably say you already fucked him with the headache inducing details about what being with him in bed was like. Which is why you’re nervous as hell right now. From what you know, Beomgyu was… a lot. More than you could handle now, after an entire year of keeping yourself to one man.
“Jaehyun was worried about you. Was worried about what you’d do to me.” You blurt out randomly when Beomgyus’ moved to peppering feathery kisses along your jawline. He hums against your skin, then stops for a second to whisper, “He was?”
You could feel the smirk on his lips, opening his mouth a tiny amount to slightly suck on your neck at the process of your words—of course Beomgyu would get an ego boost from this. “Why?”
Beomgyu is practically suffocating with how little space he’s giving you, body flush against flush, your chest heaving the rougher he increasingly gets with his marking, his sly hand down to rub between your thighs, right at your core.
“Said you only wanted to get into my pants—h-ha shit, slow down, slow down Gyu.” You were getting teary eyed by his increased speed, friction against your sweats getting you wetter by the second whenever the pad of his finger teased your slit. “You know he—he asked me to stop hanging around you b-because—”
None of this was new to Beomgyu, your past boyfriends have always been worried about him for the exact reason—that he’d convince you to let him fuck you, because apparently women can’t have male best friends without it being more than platonic. But …you guess you aren’t really proving them any wrong now with the way you were letting him have his way, marking messy purple splotches all over, in hungry predatory manner, getting rougher and rougher by the second. You gasp when he abuses the same spot he just visited a few seconds ago, “Beomgyu!”
“Because?”
He presses on your aching core, pending you with the question. He didn’t seem as happy as he was with his smugness prior. “Because he thinks you’re a sleaze.”
An incredulous— mean chuckle from the back of his throat and suddenly his hand was down your panties, abandoning the long game of teasing in matter of seconds. He doesn’t touch you though, which only proves to make you more insane. “That’s dumb. Do you think I’m a sleaze?” You shiver, his deep voice so close to your ears, breath fanning against your cool skin—your eyes could go sore from how hard you’re shutting them closed.
You refuse to give it all to him, it makes you feel embarrassed and small. A new, foreign feeling you never thought you’d experience with Beomgyu of all people. “I-in some ways, yes.”
Not a satisfying response from you, he clicks his tongue like you were a misbehaving child, “You’re really annoying, you know that?”
You don’t get a chance to retort before you feel the pad of his finger prodding your pussy, then moving to gather your wetness.
Suddenly, he freezes his movement, pulling back from your neck, looking at you with an amused glint to his dark eyes. “Shit, you’re fucking drenched. And I barely did anything—”
You think he’s making fun of you so your cheeks quickly flush red, already putting up walls of defence but then he kisses you in the heat of the moment, wiping your frown away and you’re finding yourself reciprocating without a second thought—the kiss so sloppy and messy, string of saliva connecting your lips when he pulls away out of breath. “Fuck, that’s so hot princess. You’re so hot.” He breathes in awe of the spit—he truly is the biggest perv.
“Spread your legs for me.” he groans, trying to get better access to your pussy. You obey, admittedly a little slow, but who can blame you? It feels embarrassing regardless of who, but it’s ten folds with your best friend. “Moreee.” he whines, and god you wish you could slap him—can he not see that you’re trying?
“Beomgyu—“
Your voice gets cut off, gasping when he takes it upon himself to pull down your sweatpants with a quick swift motion, taking it off completely, revealing your patterned underwear—and god, now you’re hiding your face…everything was so embarrassing. He takes a second to examine the wet dark spot right in the middle, proof to what he felt earlier, but then you kick your feet. “Stop staring freak!” you shriek.
You can see through the cracks of your fingers the smirk he has on, looking at you with so much intensity you think you’d melt. He reaches out to grab your hand and put it down, even through your resistance, you couldn’t match his strength to your dismay. “I wanna see your face. Have to let me see you fall apart on my fingers like a little slut.”
You’re scandalized at his wording, your cheeks once again quickly heating up. But you let him part your timid legs anyway, big hands gripping the softness of your thighs, spreading your legs as much as he possibly could, to the point you felt yourself cramp up. But even with whines of protest he doesn’t ease up—bunching your panties to the side, impatient when finally he inserts a digit—experimental with his movement before you hear him groan out a curse. “You’re so tight holy shit, did he even fuck you?”
“Actually, don’t answer that. I don’t wanna know.”
Your senses are already overflowing, you could feel his hard on, his erection pressed on your bare skin, you’re hyper aware of the finger inside you—slender and slow with expertise as he pushes in and out, talking to you as if you could respond with anything more than restrained mewls. “Maybe dating him was good, then you had to be monogamous and not whore around with every guy you laid eyes on like you used to.”
“I-I never whored around—shit.” He suddenly speeds up, a merciless grin spread on his face—did he find messing with you funny?
“Yes you did. It was a new guy every…it was weekly, wasn’t it?”
You shake your head at his accusations, tears brimming when his mouth finds it use, suckling harshly on your nipples through your flimsy top—your body extra sensitive with the way you spasm on a singular finger. He pumps in two without warning and you yelp, hand reaching out to grab at his hair. You swear you could cum just from the stretch. “Stop denying it, you’d do anything for dick. I’m surprised you stayed so long with that bitch. Was he any good?”
One thing you won’t do is tell Beomgyu details of your sex life with your ex. You refuse. But Beomgyu is stubborn, and he isn’t one to give up so easily. Especially if he feels like you’re withholding information from him. “Tell me.”
“I’m not telling you anything.”
He raises his eyebrows in mocking shock, “No way. He never made you cum?”
Your nostrils flair from pure embarrassment and shock. How’d he know? You quickly try to control your expressions, masking it to not give him a hint that his guess was right, but he knew you too well. You hate that. Especially now.
“Can’t believe you’re hung up on a man—fuck, baby are you close? Hung up on a man that never made you orgasm—shit,” He breathes, rubbing his clothed dick on your thigh, getting off at the sight of your face. You really are falling apart. “Don’t worry princess, I’ll take care of you.”
You tighten your hold on his hair, feeling yourself get close as you grind down on his fingers, chasing your high, choosing for your sanity to ignore all his sweet talkings.
“Gyu, gyu I-I’m gonna—No—no-why? God, fuck you, you’re such a—such a dickhead!”
Beomgyu just ruined your orgasm by completely taking out his fingers, you could practically cry out of frustration and yet he didn’t seem the least bit sorry. Instead, he makes a show of licking his fingers, the ones he just had in you, swirling his tongue and sucking them clean while making direct eye contact. You cower a little but still keep your eyes on him. Now you aren’t sure if you could stay as bitter.
You blink rapidly to collect yourself, because holy shit, you’re getting weak for…Beomgyu. “Why’d you do that? I was close Gyu.” you say exasperated.
He unbuckles his jeans, “I said I’d take care of you, just trust me.” Zipping down his pants, he’s quick to drop it down to his knees before completely abandoning them on the floor.
He flings his cock out of the restrictions of his boxers and you’re practically drooling at the pretty sight. He isn’t the biggest you’ve seen but he definitely has the girth—his tip leaking pre cum down his length, hands trying to lube it with his spit. “Beomgyu, condom.”
“I don’t have one.” He breathes, already on you as he lays wet kisses down your collarbones before he gets irritated with your shirt and takes it off, revealing your bare tits. “God, you’re so sexy.” He drawls, sucking hickeys all over your chest in hunger.
You wish you didn’t have to, but you resist his touch and in turn he lets out an annoyed whine, his voice vibrating against your exposed skin. “Beomgyu, we can’t—we need a condom.”
He sticks out his bottom lip in a pout, the cutest you’ve seen him this entire day. “I’ll pull out, I promise. Please, I need you right now.”
In that moment of weakness, his tone so needy, as if he really did need you made you feel some sort of power—like you were the hottest, sexiest woman in the world. And so you bite your tongue, and trust Beomgyu to not ruin your life. You’ve done that quite a few times.
“Swear you’ll pull out.”
“You don’t trust me?”
“I do.” You say with conviction. “I do, obviously. It’s just-”
“I know. Take a breather for me. Said I’ll take care of you, didn’t I?”
You could feel him lining up to your entrance, his tip prodding your hole, and you’re already getting desperate. “I did, didn’t I?”
“Yes.” you breathe.
“Stick your tongue out.”
You do, not sure what to expect until Beomgyu spits, letting his saliva slowly fall down in your mouth. “Swallow.” he demands, his low voice making you shiver—dark eyes watching every twitch of your face intensely.
You gulp his saliva down your throat, obeying and suddenly his expression morphs into lust you’ve never been met with before. You don’t even get to process it for longer, bask in the attention you’re getting before he’s pressing your thighs to your body, pushing into you with a deep groan—filling you up to the brim, your cunt not prepared for the aching stretch. You can feel each vein against your walls, you can feel his slight twitching, you can feel everything. “Fuck, fuck you’re made for me. You’re perfect—shit, you’re perfect princess.”
“Gyu—” you cry out, gripping the sheets under you. It was too much, too much for him to already start slamming his hips. “Gyu what—” you’re cut off by your own moan the moment he hits your g-spot, your face scrunched up, hot as you let out lewd sounds with no control of your own, throat strained already. It's not a surprise he manages to find it on his first try, despite it catching you off guard with the sudden wave of pleasure.
“Should’ve fucked you sooner. Get your little pussy molded just for my dick. You would’ve liked that, right princess?” He breathes out in a long winded babble, his hips unrelenting with each thrust, already quickly building up to be in erratic speed. Through your blurry vision you could see his eyes focusing down on the jiggle of your breasts lewdly, drool trickling down the edge of his lips, the brutal slapping sounds of them from his roughness getting his head light with ecstasy. You’re more than aware of what he wanted to do when he lets your legs rest from the ache of angling them so high. Dirty pervert.
You can’t handle him playing with your tits again, you were too sensitive for anything more than you’re getting but you can’t find it in your throat to say anything before Beomgyu gives in to his lust, leaning down to attach his mouth to your sore nipple. Abusing it as he suckles harshly, muffled moans against your breasts.
His pace getting quicker, clearly getting off from sucking your nipples like a dumb baby. It was getting you embarrassingly close, your pussy clenching around his dick. “Princess. My princess is so—mmf—so perfect.”
“Stop calling me that.” You manage to squeak out. Hes been using that nickname the entire time, and though it was easy to ignore everything else, the nickname was affecting you more than you’d like to admit.
He detaches from your tits, slowing his movement, looking up at you with furrowed eyebrows. “Huh? Princess? Why?”
“He—he used to.”
He blinks a few times before his lips draw into a sneer, clearly irritated and you’re about to backtrack, but it’s too late. Your eyes fly wide open, breath stricken when he, with no mercy, picks up his speed again, drilling his dick so far into you, you think there’s probably a bulge showing through your stomach—its when you let the tears stream down, let yourself go as he fucks you dumb with each sharp thrust serving as a punishment. But for what exactly? For mentioning your ex? Did he hate him that much?
“You can replace your memories of him with me princess. I know you can do that, I’ll make sure you do. You’re my princess, and I’m the only one who can call you that. Remember that, yea?”
You nod up and down, and he leans down to give your lips a peck, one then two then three until he loses it and it starts getting heated, tongue messily intertwining, spit exchanged in desperate action. Drilling his dick in and out your sopping pussy, squelching pornographic like sounds filling the room—you think you’re screaming at this point, mind too clouded to be fully present. You’ll definitely hear a word or two from your neighbors.
“Fuck princess, are you close?” he hisses, “I’m close too, so close. Tell me when you get there baby, okay?”
You manage to nod, pressure quickly building up
Suddenly you feel him force in a finger in your pussy, stretching you out to unimaginable degrees. “B-beomgyu—I’m cumming, I’m—” your panicked hands at the intense feeling reach out to grab at his chest, crumbling his shirt’s fabric, using the last bit of your strained voice to moan his name, your orgasm so overwhelming you genuinely start seeing white, body shaking as you try to calm yourself down. “F-fuck.” you breathe out.
The way you still clutch onto his arms pushes Beomgyu to his high too, quick to pull out of your gushing pussy before a mistake happened. It takes only two strokes before he’s spurting his seed all over your tummy, biting down a groan, obsessively taking in each inch of your body’s ruined state.
He did this. He ruined you.
The only thing filling the room being the heavy breaths of you both, Beomgyu’s hair plastered onto his forehead from sweat, yours disheveled, a complete mess. Suddenly, a notification ding goes off, and your attention’s snapped to your side. “It’s my phone.” You awkwardly point out, noticing the light before reaching your arm to get it to you.
He doesn’t move from his position, still practically hovering over you. But you try not to focus too much on it, instead taking a quick look at your notification.
Your brows twitch in surprise at seeing the message on your lock screen. Fuck, it’s your ex! Did he want you back? So miraculously? After fucking your best friend?
Without any thought, you unlock your phone, trying to skim where the ellipses left off. It was a long message and—
“We just fucked. Can’t you wait a few minutes before going on your phone— Are you texting Jaehyun?” His warm smile turning to utter rage gets you stuttering.
“No I—well—yes, but—” you fumble on your words, not knowing how to explain—not knowing why you feel like you should explain, but Beomgyu isn’t one to play around clearly, as he snatches your phone from your hand and throws it to god knows where before your body’s turned around like it was nothing to Beomgyu, like you were some ragdoll. Pushing your hips up to have your ass up in the air with your face pushed into the sheets. “B-beomgyu wha..—”
Slap. Your whole body jerks at the impact of his hand, feeling yourself get teary eyed again. “Beomgyu what the hell?” You shriek, trying to squirm from your position, your ass burning. Then you get another slap, and your legs start to shake, bottom lip wobbling at the painful feeling of his rings.
“I promised you I’d make you forget him. Clearly one fuck wasn’t enough to get your mind off that asshole.”
Your panic only lasts a millisecond at feeling his tip for a second time before you’re abusing your throat again at the oversensitivity of having Beomgyu’s dick slam into your pussy, fucking your juices back in. He’s rougher now, ten times rougher. Maybe this was what all your girlfriends were describing to you, the feeling of having Beomgyu’s dick rut into you like wild feverish dog, fucking you like all you are is a pair of limbs, just for him to hound.
You can’t think straight, not a single word coming out of your mouth is intelligible, all slurred together dumbly as he ruthlessly digs his fingers in your hips, helping you find rhythm, your body reacting on its own as it syncs with his thrusts, moving your hips enough for him to let a hand go to the back of your head, further pushing you into the mattress, drool messy staining your white sheets, loud muffled wails filling the room.
“Fuck, you like this don’t you? Getting fucked like a bitch?” your hear him growl. You don’t know what comes out of your mouth, you don’t know anything right now, because you are being fucked like a bitch while thinking like one too, your nose running with your tongue uselessly out like something out of a porno. “Should I breed you like a bitch too? Huh? Will that make your pretty little head forget?”
At that, you cum again, and he sneers, a mean laugh at noticing your orgasm, “You want me to breed you princess? Make you round with my seed?” he drawls each vowel mockingly like you were a dumb kitten and he had to explain a really simple concept—still ramming your cunt, not giving you a fair chance of responding.
That’s how it goes for you’re not sure how long, Beomgyu switching positions to have your leg draped over his shoulder as he fucks you to oblivion, making you orgasm over and over again, before you really feel like you had blacken out at some point only to find yourself waking up to him still going at it—your entire body sore, down to every inch, your nipples especially swollen from all his sucking. He never cums inside you, instead emptying his load all over your body, making you basically a show of his dried semen.
You trust him, even when his tendency to go far never died down no matter how much he got older. “You awake?”
You flutter your eyes open, a dark room, and Beomgyu. His face is abnormally close to yours. “What happened?” your voice comes out very strained, your throat hard to use. Great, you entirely lost your voice.
“Think I might’ve had my balls in…too deep.”
Even a chuckle hurts every bone in your body, holy shit, how were you going to go to work tomorrow?! “Hey, don’t move around too much, I already cleaned you up. Just try to go back to sleep.”
“I don’t feel sleepy. I can’t.”
Beomgyu suddenly giggles, you could make out the cute small thing he does with his lips when he does. “What?” you ask.
“Your voice sounds funny.”
You groan, rolling your eyes. Of course he’d find it funny. Maybe next time you should peg his ass and see how he’d like to not speak for an entire week.
You feel his all too familiar hand laying on your cheek, and you subtly gulp. You don’t know if he heard. He probably did with how close you guys are, noses practically brushing against each other, his breathing all your hearing can pick up. “You know I’m always here for you, right?”
You nod, until you realize he might not be able to see you properly. “Yes.”
“Good.”
He takes his hand off your cheek, then turns on his back, folding his arms over his chest, staring up the ceiling. So the room won’t fall into an awkward silence, you say: “I have a question.”
He shuffles a little on the bed, letting out a hum in acknowledgment. “What was the I’m perfect for you thing about? We’re definitely not like, compatible or anything.”
He laughs before he turns his head to you in disbelief. “Are you serious? Is that a serious question?”
You nod, “Do I not sound serious?”
“No, you sound like you just had the best fuck of your life.” You roll your eyes in good nature, though exasperated, you were exposed to too much of his ego in one day. If you had the strength and will to come up with something to level his ego down, you would. “It’s called dirty talk if you must know the term fair maiden.”
“God, you’re so silly, I’m going to sleep.” You withstand your pain to turn your back to him, groaning with each movement. But you can’t escape his wrath it seems, because he almost immediately snakes his arm around your waist, chin resting on your shoulder, his heartbeat all you can here against your back. “Can’t I find you perfect? You know, like…my dream girl. My princess.”
You rapidly blink a few times trying to process—past the deep rasp of his tired voice that you found yourself incredibly attracted to— his words and how it brewed big unfamiliar emotions, knowing now you won’t be able to get a blink of sleep after this.
“Can I keep calling you that by the way? It really sticks.”
Oh god, the last thing you’re going to do is self sabotage yourself even more and get yourself in a stickier situation than you already put yourself in. “No, that’s definitely staying in the bedroom.”
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a/n: i have no idea how this reads, its basically bare of any editing so if the flow is a little choppy i sincerely apologize, i write at the golden time of 10pm-2am 😭
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thewintersoldatt · 2 months
Text
SORRY, NOT SORRY -RAFE CAMERON
Pairing: Rafe Cameron x fem!listener
Summary: Rafe can be a “good” boyfriend when he wants to be… with a sprinkle of manipulation of course.
Warnings: Naughty language, Fluff low-key from our toxic daddy, ft. JJ being a chaotic mess.
notes: This audio is set during 1x05. Instead of it being midsummer's, it's the listeners birthday! I've been working on this all week and I'm tired of listening to it on repeat, so if something doesn't add up, it's because I got lazy. And I wish Rafe told me he loved me. 😭
word count: Its audio, my panties are wet and so are yours.
Scene one
JJ: Ah, would you look at this! It's our birthday girl!
You: What are you doing here?
Our cutie patootie rambles on then walks off with the security guard.
During this pause count to about 6 or 7.
You: What the hell did you guys do to his face?
Rafe: We didn't do anything… his face was like that when he…showed up.
You: Well, why did you guys corner him in here?
Rafe: We were just making sure... he knew his place. And that he's not allowed here. If anything, we were doing you and your parents a favor, I mean, god knows what he already took.
You: You promised me you wouldn’t start anything tonight, Rafe.
Rafe: Can you give us a minute? I'd like to talk to my girlfriend... alone, so get out. Alright, um, can I speak first since you wanna do this right now?
You: Go ahead.
Rafe: How long have you lived here?
You: I was born here.
Rafe: Yes you were born here, but where - where did you grow up?
You: Figure 8.
Rafe: Yes, you grew up on Figure 8. And where did... our pal JJ grow up?
You: The cut.
Rafe: The Cut. and that's exactly my point, baby. We're kooks. And... what is JJ again?
You: Jesus, Rafe don't start-
Rafe: Come on, you wanna talk, let’s talk. What about communication? Isn’t that what we're supposed to be working on?
Count to 3 during this pause.
You: He’s a pouge.
Rafe: See that wasn't so hard, now was it? Now, let me make something clear, and stop me if you get a little confused - you and me. We’re practically royalty on this island. We’re together for a reason. And before you saying, yes I do love you. I always have and I always will. You’re mine. You’re it for me, sweetheart. And… you’re a kook. So, start acting like one before I do something about it, mkay?
You: God, you’re a dick you know that? How about you leave too.
Rafe: Ugh, look I’m sorry, alright? It’s just… it’s just when I saw him on the patio talking to Sarah I lost it. This is supposed to be your day and I didn’t want him ruining it. Kind of like when… uh… we switched out the coke with flour and gave it to Top because he ate your cupcakes.
You: And how is that relevant to this?
Rafe: It’s sorta the same thing. You - you worked hard on those. Uh, he ate them. I was pissed because they were for me. And you were upset because I wanted to punch him in the throat. Tomato, tomahto. Blah, blah, blah. See you’re smiling, I love it when you smile.
You: You’re such a sap.
Rafe: I love you.
You: I love you too.
Rafe: And again, I’m sorry, I didn’t mean to cause a scene, I just didn’t know how else to get him to leave. You know how JJ and his friends are. All of them are drawn to us like a moth to a flame. Now, uh, can we put this behind us and get back to the party?
You: Thats the smartest thing that’s come out of your fat mouth all night, baby.
Rafe: By the way, I really do think he took something from your bedroom.
You: What?
Rafe: I saw him come down from the hallway, unless he took something from your dad’s office?
You: You’re serious?
Rafe: As a heart attack.
You: But… I’ve never done anything to him.
Rafe: That’s what they do though. You should know this by now. They butter you up, just to take whatever they can right from under our noses. It’s sick, if I’m being honest.
You: So much for trying to be civil.
Rafe: I know, yeah, I’ll talk to your dad, and um, see what we can do. But for now, let’s go celebrate. It’s not everyday someone turns 17.
@rafesapologist @rvfecamerons @sadfury @rafesthroatbaby @rafesaddiction @hockeybabe87 @rafeinterlude @starkeyisthelastname @secretly-tumb1r @kingkylie444 @stayonmars @maybankswhore @barbiiecams @princessmisery666 @ilovebarrykeoghan
If you would like to be tagged, I gotchu sis.
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brodieland · 2 months
Text
.˚ 𓈒 ࣪.𝝑𝝔 Be you or be with you? ´ˎ˗
Percy Jackson x fem!zeus!reader Synopsis: When a daughter of Zeus and a son of Poseidon who just seem to hate each other get into a fight, they are forced to clean the stables together. Word Count: 885
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The stables smelled like crap, because they were literally filled of it. And of course you had to be stuck cleaning the crap filled stables with a walking pain in the ass. Also known as Percy Jackson. So many people just love him so much. Sure he saved camp, and civilization I guess, but you didn't care. Something about him just bugged you, it was probably how he doesn't know how to listen, or how he has such a smart-mouth, maybe it was how he just does whatever and for some reason it just always has to work out for him. That luck bothered you too. HEY, maybe you were just a hater, but he was a forbidden kid and despite beating up the god of war at twelve, everyone liked him, but one time when you were twelve you accidently shocked a bunch of people in a lake and people are still scared to go near water with you. Shits rigged.
"It smells so bad in here" you mumbled to yourself.
"No shit" Percy giggled to himself, you may or may not have let out a little chuckle on the inside but you'd never admit that.
"Not the time for jokes when its your fault we're here fish breath" you spat back, clearly annoyed.
"How the hell is it my fault you decided to strike me down with your stupid lightning" he returned right back to with just as much annoyance.
"Maybe if you didn't absolutely soak me with your stupid water I wouldn't have done that" you yelled back.
"How many times do I have to say that I wasn't aiming for you" he's so stupid.
"I wasn't aiming for you" you mocked "there was literally no one else around" you are literally screaming now.
"Fine, maybe it was sorta on purpose," like I didn't know "but maybe if you didn't trip me literally five minutes before that then I wouldn't have gotten the idea!"
"Now THAT" you emphasized "wasn't on purpose, but I'll admit it was kinda funny" you started laughing a little. He stared at you straight faced as you laughed.
"Haha, I'm dying, your hilarious, let's just finish cleaning" Percy said. And with that, you both went back to silently cleaning in silence. Now in a few moments he spoke up again.
"Did I do something to you" he asked.
"What are you talking about" you said.
"You just seem to not like me and I don't remember doing anything to make you hate me so much" he sounded sad, you almost felt bad.
Maybe you did a little, because he was right. He never did anything to you, and if you were being honest with your self you were just kind of.. jealous? That was probably the word. You were both forbidden children, you thought that meant you'd both be in the same boat, but no. He's just so likeable in ways you weren't, people were scared of you because they think your dangerous but love him.
"Everyone likes you" you started. You stood there faced him broom in hand as you stared at the floor. Percy looked at you confused.
"I mean, I guess, but I'm sure there's someone who doesn't like me" Percy said.
"Exactly, you don't even know if there's someone out there that doesn't like you" you said, make Percy even more confused. "People don't like me because they're like, scared of me or something. So obviously I don't really have friends and I thought that was part of the deal until you got here and became Mr. freaking popular. You can beat up gods but gods forbid I accidently shock someone years ago." You've never shared this with anyone. "So no you didn't do anything, and no I don't hate you. I just kinda wish I was more like you."
You got quiet, he got quiet. You both were quiet. "Sorry, I shouldn't have said anyth-"
"Don't be sorry" He cut you off. "I didn't know that's how you felt, I wish you said something."
"What would that have done, other than make you feel sorry for me" you chuckled sarcastically.
"Maybe I wanted to be like, buddies or something, but you were always pushing me away" He said as he stared down at the ground.
You were stunned. Absolutely stunned.
"What, why would you want to be friends with me, I'm sure you've rumors about me. That I'm aggressive, or scary or mean." Sucks but kids suck.
"We both know there not true. Maybe you're a little short-tempered, but maybe you wouldn't be if people weren't always assuming the worst. Plus you're really pretty" He threw you a goofy grin that made you playfully roll your eyes and laugh in response.
Percy gasped. "Oh my gods, did I just make the Y/N Y/L/N laugh" he said sarcastically.
"Maybe you did, don't get to full of yourself Jackson" you said as you jokingly glared and pointed your finger at him.
"Alright then, so, is the beef over? Can we be friends now" he questioned, hopeful you say yes, really hopeful you'd want to hang out with him.
"yeah, friends. We can be friends" You both smiled at each other, happy to have put the arguing behind.
"It still smells like crap"
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sommerbueckers · 19 days
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My Brother's Best Friend Pt4
I immediately disregarded my homework at the sound of my phone ringing. I had been expecting a call from Paige ever since her game against Xavier went off, Uconn coming out with an unsurprising win.
Her smug face appeared on the screen, she had changed into her pajamas and the camera was propped up on what I assumed to be a desk or table.
"Summer Collymor."
"Paige Bueckers."
"Did you watch the game?" she asked.
"Nope," I said, "tv was unplugged as promised."
She leaned back in her chair and laughed, shaking her head. "Whatever you say."
I laughed as well, nervously toying around with the pen I had previously tossed aside with my notebook. This was the first time ever that Paige and I had facetimed, and despite our track record of never having a dry conversation, I couldn't help but worry that I'd run out of things to talk about.
"So..." she said with a smile.
"So...?" I repeated.
"How was your day?" she asked softly.
"Hmm it was okay. Practice was really great though, we got a few new girls who tried out for the second season and they're really good. I'm hoping they'll tryout again for the comp squad in the spring."
"That's good. You're pacing yourself right?"
"What do you mean?" I frowned.
"With putting the routines together and studying for midterms and all, I just want to make sure you aren't stressing yourself out" she shrugged shyly.
"Aww, are you worried about me?" I smiled.
"Definitely not, who am I gonna make fun of if you're all busy and stressed?" she raised an eyebrow.
"Girl bye, look in the mirror and you'll find all the jokes you need" I laughed.
"Ohh you thought that was good huh? You weren't saying all that when I was all over you the other day" she replied cockily, crossing her arms and staring at the camera.
"So you admit that you were all over me?"
"We were all over each other."
"Mhm. If I remember correctly, it was you who made the first move," I reminded her, "so shut all that shit up."
She playfully rolled her eyes and grabbed the phone, moving to lay down on her bed. A moment of silence washed over us as I watched her watch me, both of our smiles slowly growing at the eye contact. I didn't want to be the first to back down but I could feel the tension becoming too much for me to bear. I pretended to read over a paragraph in my chem textbook, not wanting her to notice the blush that had crept onto my face. It'd go straight to her head.
"What're you wearing?" her voice was low and suggestive through the phone, but her face displayed an expression of innocence.
"A t-shirt" I said, tilting the camera up as I displayed my 2019 cheer championship shirt.
She smirked, "What else?"
"Just my underwear" I said innocently.
"Oh yeah?" she raised her eyebrows. When I nodded my head she continued, "Can I see?"
I thought about it for a moment, lifting up to make sure my door was closed before making my decision. I pulled my covers down and raised the camera, showing off the bright pink thong that I had on.
"Mm mm mm!" Paige exclaimed dramatically, shaking her head with her fist to her mouth.
"Oh God shut up!" I laughed, putting the camera back down.
"What? You look good" she complimented simply.
"Thanks, wish you were here to prove it though" I said lowly.
I didn't know where my sudden boldness came from, maybe it was because I knew Paige wasn't actually here and I had no reason to be nervous. Anything I said or did right now would surely be forgotten by the time she returned for Christmas break.
"Just touch yourself and pretend its me" she laughed, but her eyes carefully scanned my face for my reaction.
"You would say something like that" I shook my head.
"Hey, desperate times call for desperate measures" she defended with her hand up. She went quiet for a moment when I didn't say anything. "Are you doing it?" she asked with high eyebrows, surprise laced in her voice.
"No! You're so dirty," I laughed, "I was getting comfortable."
"Mhm" she nodded.
"...Did you really want me to?"
She shrugged her shoulders, not looking at the phone. She definitely wanted me to. I bit my lip as I considered it. Paige was staring at me quizzically through the phone with one of her eyebrows cocked. I was getting turned on at the thought of pleasing myself, the thought of Paige's voice in my ear as she told me what to do and how to do it.
"Okay" I said, letting out a breath.
"Huh?"
"I'll do it" I elaborated.
"You don't have to, I was just-"
"I want to" I interuppted, rubbing my legs together under the covers.
"Really?"
"Yes, what do I do?" I asked.
"Wait, have you never done it before?" she sounded surprised.
"No...is that bad?"
Paige laughed and sat up a little straighter in her bed, "No Summer it's not bad it's just...surprising?" she corrected.
"Why is it surprising?"
"I don't know, I don't know."
"Alright whatever," I smiled, "you ready to do this?"
"Are you ready?" she redirected the question.
"Yeah go, go" I encouraged.
Paige laughed lowly, shaking her head. I moved to switch off my lamp and then laid back down. Paige had gotten comfortable as well; her head rested back against her pillow and her wrist was draped over her forehead.
"Okay now...run your hands up and down your thighs" she instructed after thinking for a moment. "Just your fingertips, slow" she added quickly.
I did as I was told, softly trailing my fingertips up to the edge of my underwear and then trailing them back down to my knees. It felt like electricity coursing through my fingers and leaving burn marks on my skin where they touched. I imagined it was Paige's hands, touching me with utmost delicacy as she always did.
"You like the way that feels?" she asked.
"Yeah" I answered.
I couldn't help but feel embarrassed at what I was doing. Not only was I masturbating for the first time in my life, but I was doing it on the phone with Paige. She couldn't see me, my phone sat next to my head facing toward the ceiling, close enough to where she could hear any noise that I made.
"I want you to move your hands up and down your cunt...be gentle" she said.
I bit back a laugh at the bluntness of her words and moved my fingers over my clothed clit. I was gentle like she told me to be, hardly pressing into myself at all.
"Do it three more times, and then I want you to stop."
I could feel myself growing wetter, hotter, needier. I bit down hard on my lip, preventing shaky breaths from leaving my mouth. My clit was becoming swollen, my entire pussy throbbing with the desire to be touched by me...by Paige.
She had fucked me so good before she left and I was aching for her to do it again. I wanted to feel every inch of her, her sweaty body on mine as we went round after round.
"Take two fingers and rub in that circular motion that I know you like" she said, I could practically see the smile on her face as she spoke. "Think about me when you do it, think about my fingers touching and teasing you."
I was even more turned on at the thought of Paige hovering over me, her long blonde hair falling like a curtain over me and tickling my face.
"How wet are you Summer?" she asked lowly.
I could feel my wetness grow and begin to drip out of me, if I told her how wet I was right now she'd never let me hear the end of it. A small whimper slipped past my lips, a cry of desperation.
"So wet" I breathed out.
"Yeah...good."
"Let's get those pretty panties out the way then" she smirked.
I pushed my hand down into my underwear all too quickly, dying to feel a more intense friction.
"You're rushing, I can hear you. Slow down or I'm gonna stop" she warned, her voice serious.
I stilled my motions.
"That's a good girl" she cooed condescendingly.
I was going to come quick, I knew I was. Paige talking me through this had to be the hottest thing ever. After a good game tonight I knew she deserved to unravel me the way she was, to listen to me crumble to pieces from instructions she was giving me.
"Slowly...put your fingers in. I want it so slow it almost hurts to do, you hear me?" she said.
"Mhm..."
"Words."
"Yes, yes I hear you" I whined.
I didn't waste anymore time inserting my ring and middle fingers, a dragged out gasp filling the room. I tightly pressed my lips together, that gasp turning into a moan.
All I could think about was Paige's proud face smirking down at me as her finger repeatedly pushed in and out of me, hitting all the right spots. I imagined her lips as they connected with mine, and then they moved to my jaw, and then to my neck, and down my chest...
"Go faster for me."
I ignored the slight stinging pain I felt as I pumped my fingers faster, it was enough for me to clench my jaw, but not enough to stop.
"Fuck you sound so good" Paige grunted, running her hands through her hair. "God I miss you."
I didn't bother to stop the smile that pulled at my lips, there were so many feelings running through me that I didn't know what to do with myself.
I ran my hand up my side to my chest, using it to squeeze my tits. I could hear my fingers going in and out, my juices running down my hand.
"Do you wanna come?" she asked.
"Uh huh" I moaned out desperately.
"I want to see you" Paige said, staring at the phone.
I didn't make a move for my phone, I could feel my walls tightening around my fingers. I would come any second.
"Summer," she called out, "be a good girl and let me see you."
I snatched the phone off the bed and held it in my hand, sitting up to lean on my elbow so she could see my face.
Her eyes were dark when they met mine through the screen, she licked her lips and smiled. "Come for me pretty baby"
That'll do it.
My mouth fell open as I released all over my fingers. It was almost as if my entire existence was slipping away, like everything I had accomplished was becoming undone. My body shook for a moment, and it felt like I was lying on clouds taking shots of Pink Whitney with Jesus Christ. Nothing was real.
If that's what giving myself an orgasm felt like, I was upset that I hadn't done it sooner. I laid there for a moment, coming back to my sense as I came down from my high.
"You okay over there?" Paige asked, her voice laced with amusement.
I laughed and brought the phone closer to my face, playfully narrowing my eyes. I got up from the bed and headed into the bathroom, setting up the phone to wash my hands.
"I've actually never done that before...like, talked someone through it like that I mean" Paige confessed.
"Aw, I took your phone sex virginity" I teased, rubbing the soap into my hands.
She snorted, "You're a cornball."
"Yes, yes, so I've been told."
IM SO SORRY THIS IS SO FKN RUSHED LIKEEEEE
but at least i tried yk
i haven't been in the smut mood ??????🫨🫨🫨🫨🫨
but like I told yall I need a little more practice, I just can't tell what's too much and what isn't enough WHERES THE LINE ????
but okay like any suggestions like...what do yall want to see next🙄?
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avocad1s · 11 months
Text
Bring Back What Once Was Mine
Chapter Summary: The nation of Cryo welcomes you.
Characters Mentioned: The Fatui Harbingers & The Tsaritsa.
Content Warning: Cult and Religious themes ahead! You've been warned.
Reader is the true creator of Teyvat. GN! Reader
Part Four Part Five (you are here!) Part Six
You alr know what I’m gonna say… not beta read :>
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The Gnosis didn’t just connect the Archons to the Creator. It also connected them to Celestia.
Although very few understand it, one thing that is known is Celestia is the residence for the Gods. On rare occasions, mortals can ascend to Celestia if they preform great, heroic feats. Meaning even humans can achieve godhood.
However as the decades went by, the Archons begin cutting of their ties to Celestia after the Cataclysm. They decided to live in their respective nations rather than watching them from above.
Celestia, who noticed the reservations of the Seven, knew that it had to do something to keep its order intact.
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“You’re Grace?”
“Hmm?”
“You should put your coat on now, we will be arriving on shore soon.”
A few hours has passed since you had made a detour in your journey gotten a on the boat with Childe, he was a talkative individual, boasting about his skills in combat or about the Tsaritsa. Yet when you asked about the other Harbingers he wouldn’t say much, he would vaguely mention something about their strength or their contribution to the Fatui.
Speaking of the Fatui, you still had your reservations about the infamous group. Though when you try to reassure yourself that you know the Cryo Archon better than anyone else, Aether’s words fills your ears.
You sigh slipping the soft material of the coat onto your arms, feeling your body instantly heat up.
“Lord Harbinger,” one of Childe’s soldiers approached the two of you in a stiff bow. “We have arrived.”
Just like with Sumeru, it seems the Snezhnaya had changed a great deal since the last time you were here. You could hardly believe that this nation had been on lock for many years.
Childe holds his hand out to you, “I’ll lead you, Your Grace.” You rest your hand in his gloved one causing him to smile wider as he leads off the boat onto the icy deck.
The deck and the pathway leading to the Zapolyarny palace has a scare amount of security. You couldn’t help but wonder if it was on purpose or if your arrival to Snezhnaya is unexpectedly early.
“Are you nervous, Your Grace?” Childe asks suddenly.
You swallow, could he feel your apprehension? As the two of you get closer to the Zapolyarny palace, you could feel the tension in your body increase. The overwhelming presence of malice the palace was giving off, you could only imagine who- or what- was in there.
He gives your hand a slight squeeze looking over at you, “there’s no need to be nervous, the Fatui and Her Majesty are your most loyal servants. We will never do anything to betray you.”
Nodding at his words, you try to ignore the goosebumps that just appeared on your skin.
Childe pushes open the large doors leading you inside the icy fortress. Even though it wasn’t very well lit, the decor in the inside was spectacular. Multiple banners hung from the support beams all of them with snowflakes decorated at the bottom of it. There were also dozens of pews that lead to the front of the room which seemed to be the most lit. Many soldiers stood near the wall gawking in your direction once you entered the palace, but with a simple glance, you could tell they were lower ranked. Not because of anything they were wearing, but because of the two who stood in front of you.
One you recognized to be the Cryo Archon but the other was someone you’ve never seen before. Both were all dressed nicely but still kept the cold weather in mind.
The Tsaritsa was the only one to approach you, she wasted no time grabbing your free hand with both of hers. “Your Grace please forgive me for my rude welcoming. If I had known you would arrive today-“
“You have no reason to apologize, I wish I was here under better circumstances…” you interrupt.
She lets go of your hand nodding, “having you here already means everything to me.”
You smile at her sweet words, the Tsaritsa was still the same as you remembered. Maybe letting the words of Yelan and Aether get to you was a bad idea.
“You must tired after your journey.” The Tsaritsa begins, “we’ve prepared a room just for you. I hope it’s to your liking.”
Truthfully, you would take any bed right now. Ever since you descended to Teyvat, you’ve been sleeping outside or not sleeping at all, you wouldn’t complain about any accommodations right now.
She looks back at the man who was watching your interaction, “my most trusted will guide you to your chamber. I will come check on you later.”
The Tsaritsa takes a step away from you, turning her attention to Childe who was still holding your hand. “Come with me Tartaglia,” she orders.
Childe hesitantly lets go of your hand giving you a reassuring smile, “don’t worry Your Grace, if you need anything from me, I’ll still be in the palace.”
It fell silent for a moment in the palace, only thing that could be heard is the faint footsteps of Childe and the Cryo Archon walking off as they whisper about something you couldn’t make out.
“Divine One…”
You focus your attention on the man in front of you. He had on a mask like the soldiers in the room with you but his only covered half of his face, his hair is white and his eyes… (or eye) were the most peculiar. It was definitely something you recognized but he was standing to far away for you to make out what it was exactly.
“My name is Pierro,” he introduces, “I will guide you to your chamber.”
So this was the Tsaritsa most trusted. It makes you wonder how long he’s been in the Fatui to earn such a title. He leads you down a hall in the opposite direction that the Tsaritsa had went, he doesn’t say anything keeping his gaze forward and his hands behind his back.
“Where are the others?” You ask breaking the silence.
He glances at you for a moment, “I’m assuming you mean the other Harbingers? They’ll be returning soon.”
Pierro stops in front of a double doored room at the end of the hall, “this is where you’ll be staying while in Snezhnaya, Divine One.” He opens the door for you allowing you to walk inside as he stands by the threshold.
The room was fairly dark, the only light coming from the fireplace on the furthest wall from the door. There was one large bed in the middle of the room and a couch by the fireplace. There was also a table with a few books neatly stacked on it.
“I hope you enjoy your time in the Zapolyarny Palace.” Pierro closes the door leaving you alone in the large room.
Once the door clicks, you pull the flower Aether had given you out of your pocket inspecting it closely. Luckily it hadn’t wilted while on your journey to Snezhnaya. You place the flower on the table shrugging off your coat draping it on the chair. You relax into the couch allowing the fireplace to keep you warm, unaware that this is the last time you’ll relax before knowing the truth yourself.
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The Zapolyarny palace was more comforting than you thought it be.
Slouching on this couch has to be the first time you ever allowed yourself to fully relax since you descended to Teyvat. You didn’t even realized you were succumbing to sleep until you heard faint voices outside your door that brought your attention back to reality.
“Is their Grace really behind this door?”
“That’s what the Jester said, maybe I should bring them something to eat.”
“Why should it be you? Their Grace knows me, they’ll be more comfortable if I bring it to them.”
“It shouldn’t have been you who found them in the first place, Tartaglia. I’m higher ranked than you, it should be me who gives it to them.”
“Well if it’s purely based off our rankings than it should be me, no? I am the highest ranked out of us all since number one isn’t here.”
“You’d just scare them off Dottore!”
Their fighting immediately ceases causing you to sit up on the couch. We’re they aware you were listening or did they walk off to argue somewhere else. Neither answer made sense, you hadn’t made a noise since you noticed they were outside your door and you didn’t hear their footsteps or fading voices indicating that they walked off.
A soft knock is heard at the large doors.
“Your Grace,” a voice calls out. It was the Tsaritsa, “are you awake? May I come inside?”
You use your palms to straighten out your wrinkled clothing before answering, “yes I’m awake. Please come in.”
The door opens immediately and the Cryo Archon walks inside closing the door behind her.
“We’re you able to settle in?”
You nod, “yes! This room is perfect, thank you.”
“I’m glad…” she slowly approaches you on the coach before hesitantly sitting next to you. “Well there’s no point of beating around the bush… I’m assuming you know why I came to see you?”
You rest your hands in your lap giving her your full attention, “it’s about the False Creator. Right?”
“Yes.” She confirms, “Tartaglia wasn’t lying when he said that I’ve figured out where the False Creator came from.”
You say nothing waiting for her to continue and after a best of silence she says, “Your Grace, there’s a reason why none of the Archons were alerted to your presence. We all removed our Gnosis.”
Your eyes widen, “what? Why?”
“It’s not because of you!” She quickly reassures, “we all still hold you in the highest regard, but to be connected to you we also have to be connected to…”
“…Celestia…” you finish her sentence. “Is there something wrong with Celestia? Why don’t you all want to be connected to it anymore?”
She brushes some of her hair off her shoulder, “when you went off world centuries ago and left Celestia in control of Teyvat, something changed.”
“What do you mean?” You ask.
She shrugs, “I’m not entirely sure what happened but once you left, being in Celestia felt… wrong. Like none of us were supposed to be there but it was Celestia’s final order that made us cut our connection to it.”
“Celestia’s final order?”
“What I’m trying to tell you is that Celestia had ordered us Archons to destroy Khaenri'ah under the guise that it was you who told us to.”
Once she had seen your face, it takes everything out of the Tsaritsa not to fall onto the floor and beg for your forgiveness, but telling you everything is whats important right now, even if you do hate her afterwards.
“We all thought it was you who told us to do it… and that’s when the other one had arrived. Pretending to be you, they reassured us that we did the right thing and that we had gotten rid of a nation filled with sinners.”
You notice her eyes fill with tears, she felt true guilt for what she and her fellow Archons had done. Reaching out, you place your hand on top of her silently urging her to continue.
“Celestia feared it was losing it’s control over Teyvat after us Archons stopped going there once you had departed. So it sent down a fake you to keep the control it had over the world. With the False Creator and the Gnosis, Celestia had Teyvat right in the palm of it’s hands.”
“Wait.” You interrupt, “if that’s all they did, then why was Khaenri'ah destroyed?”
You feel her hands trembling under yours, but before you can comment on it she continues. “Khaenri'ah had found out about Celestia’s plans to send down a False Creator. When Khaenri'ah had made plans to summon you, Celestia ordered the destruction of the nation. It’s what we call the Cataclysm.”
You remove your hand from hers bringing them up to your mouth. There’s no way she was actually telling the truth, Celestia had existed way before anyone on Teyvat did. It was one of your first creations, would it really betray you like that?
A cold hand on your cheek breaks you out of your thoughts, the Tsaritsa turns your head to look at her a frown apparent on her face.
“I know how this sounds your Grace but you must believe me. I would never tell you such a blasphemous lie if it weren’t the truth!”
“What were these plans Khaenri'ah had found?” Are the only words to leave your lips.
“A prototype.” She explains, “they had sent down a prototype to see if they could fool Khaenri'ah into believing it was actually you. Celestia knew that convincing that nation would be the hardest since it was the only nation without an Archon.”
You stand from your spot on the couch causing the Tsaritsa to jump up as well, her face looked frantic but she held her composure well. It was clear where the Fatui had gotten their cold nature from.
“And how exactly did you get all of this information?”
“There are many remnants of Khaenri'ah still around Teyvat Your Grace. Celestia wasn’t able to eradicate everything.” She explains.
There was a another silence between the two of you but it wasn’t like before, this time it felt suffocating. If what she claims is the truth that means your own creation, something you believed you could trust, had betrayed you. Now everything made sense. Everything Aether had told you about the remnants of Khaenri'ah still being present. He was there, he probably seen all of it.
You should’ve went with him when you had the chance. Outlander or not, you were conflicted on who you could trust now.
“Your Grace?” the Cryo Archon stutters out her hand resting gently on your shoulder. “What are you going to do now?”
You decide not to respond but her question continues to repeat in your mind. What are you going to do? If it was Celestia, then destroying the Imposter wouldn’t solve your problem. What if you decide to go off world again? Would Celestia just make another Fake Creator and take reign over your world once more? You couldn’t let that happen, it wasn’t a risk you were willing to take.
“As unbelievable everything you just told me sounds, I’m going to trust you…”
Her body visibly relaxes at your explanation.
“Even though I still don’t know everything I wanted, if Celestia was the one who created the Imposter then I cannot waste anymore time. I must return to Sumeru and deal with them immediately.”
-
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Note: I apologize for the five day wait, but this part took a lot of research on my end and yeah 💀 i already know there are some inaccuracies but for the sake of the plot idc. Anyways we have just reached the climax of the story, my plan is to wrap everything up in three more chapters but we’ll see how that turns out.
Taglist: @esthelily @the-dumber-scaramouche @grimreapersscythe @seawater-aurelia-writing @probablynoposts @genshin-impacts-me @itsredactedlove @chidouna @thedevioussmirk @hoo-hoo @chaoticfivesworld @akemiixx01 @lunarapple @nowords-onlybreathing @fangirlinindia @veyu002 @blackcoffex @kaveh-is-pretty @ariasdream @averycuriousperson @bloopthebat @chuuya-brainrot @crazydreamcat @sparklyphantom @multistanbee @bluebelony @mokakoto @mega-trash-cringe CLOSED
I apologize to anyone who has asked to be tagged over the past few days! Please know that I did see you but Tumblr is not allowing me to add anyone else to the Taglist :<
Also this blog has hit 200 followers in under two weeks… umm HELLO? where did all of you come from?!? Seriously though, I appreciate all of the love and support you all have given this story 🙏 I love you all platonically ofc !!!
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joelsgreys · 1 year
Text
a safe haven | three
Post Outbreak! Joel Miller x Female Reader
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summary: You and Joel get to know each other better and the two of you share a private moment out behind the barn under the stars; an unexpected guest shows up to the party; Tommy gives Joel a second and final warning about you.
warnings/tags: 18+ ONLY, MINORS DNI. (TW) MENTIONS AND IMPLICATIONS OF DOMESTIC VIOLENCE/ABUSE. PLEASE HEED THE WARNINGS. alcohol consumption, mutual pining and yearning, Joel sings to reader a bit (that is its own warning), soft Joel, overprotective Joel, and a slight hint of jealous Joel. Tommy seems like kind of an asshole but he’s just trying to look out for his brother, okay?
word count 6.6k
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About an hour later, after tossing back about three or four bottles of Seth’s crappy beer, you’d started feeling a lot livelier and a lot more like yourself. It was a glass of his delicious, oak-barrel aged whiskey that you had wanted more than anything, but with Esther over at the bar openly flirting up a storm with Joel Miller, you pushed down the desire for scotch and settled for the bitter lager instead.
It tasted awful, but it did the job well enough. The best part was that the bottles of beer were all readily available in coolers all around the barn, and you didn’t need to go up to the bar to get one. 
The last thing you’d wanted was to find out what was going on between Esther and Joel.
“And the next thing you know, poor John is being chased all around the chicken coop by a bunch of broody hens!” Martha finishes her story, throwing her hands up in the air. “God, I wish I would’ve had a camcorder in hand. It was the funniest thing I ever did see in almost two damn decades.”
Everyone sitting around the table bursts into a fit of loud, hearty laughter.
“Oh okay, so then that would probably explain why there weren’t many eggs in stock at the market the other morning,” you tease, only fueling the commotion.
John glares at you, and you shrug innocently, fighting back another laugh. Six foot two with big, broad shoulders and arms, you found it both very difficult and very amusing to picture the bulky blond man being chased around by a flock of pissed off chickens.
“I’d really like to see any of you guys try and take a broody hen’s eggs away from her with ease!” John huffs out before taking a gulp of his beer. He’s red in the face, and it’s hard to tell if it’s from the alcohol or the embarrassment. “Assholes.”
Martha leans over, whispering, “See? I told you it would make him mad.”
You giggle, lightly shaking your head at her. “Talk about ruffling some feathers, huh?”
She snorts into her plate of potatoes, jabbing her elbow into your side. “Let’s stop before he really gets all riled up, or else we’re going to get an earful.”
“Oh come on, John. Lighten up,” you grin over at him from across the table. “I know what’ll make you feel better. You guys want to hear a really, and I mean really embarrassing story?” You pause for a second or two, just long enough for everyone to nod eagerly. “Let me tell you about what Stella did to me the other day in her stall when I tried to take her temperature, it was absolutely awful. Okay, so there I am about to—”
“Sorry to interrupt you folks, but do you all mind if we steal this sweet little lady here for just a minute or two?” The sound of Tommy Miller’s smooth, deep voice causes you to stop abruptly mid-sentence. You glance over your shoulder only to see him approaching the table. He’s closely followed by Maria, who had traded her usual patrol duty attire for a light blue denim dress that sat off of her shoulders, the flowing skirt falling just above knees. Her white cowboy hat matches her husband’s.
“Aw c’mon, Miller! She was just about to tell us a story!” Peter, Martha’s husband, exclaims as he drapes his arm around his wife’s shoulders
Tommy chuckles, shaking his head. “I promise we won’t keep her too long, alright?”
You immediately notice that he’s holding a drink in each hand, each glass filled almost to the rim with a bold, rich amber liquor over ice. The only reason that you’d immediately known one of the two drinks was meant for you was because Maria had just discovered that she was pregnant. It was still a secret that very few people knew about, but the minute she confirmed it with a pregnancy test earlier that month, she’d come running to your door to tell you. It’s the reason she’s been avoiding booze all evening—she’s been sipping on lemonade all night instead. 
“Excuse me,” you nod politely to the group of friends you’d been sitting with and stand up from the table. You follow Tommy and Maria over to a far corner of the barn where the three of you could talk somewhat privately. Accepting the glass from Tommy, you offer him a grateful smile, pleased that you’d gotten the drink you had wanted after all. “Thank you.”
“‘Course.” He nods and tips the brim of his cowboy hat to you in his typical, gentleman-like manner. He’d never lost an ounce of those Texas manners.
Maria loops her arm through his. “Well, it looks like tonight was a real success,” she states as she glances around the room, her pride written clearly across her face. “Wouldn’t you say so?”
“Absolutely,” you agree, enthusiastically. You smile again and lift your glass to the couple as you toast, “Another year and another success. Here’s to many, many more to come.”
“Cheers to that, little lady,” Tommy grins and lifts up his glass, clinking the rim of it to yours before taking a generous drink, nearly draining it in one single gulp. “Thanks for stoppin’ by earlier and helpin’ set the place up, by the way. We really appreciate it.”
You wave your free hand at him. “Oh, no need to thank me at all. You already know that I was more than happy to help out,” you tell him as you take a careful sip of whiskey. The hard liquor burns its way down your throat in the sweetest way. Taking another sip, you turn to look at Maria, unable to help yourself from admiring her gorgeous, natural glow. “How are you feeling?”
“Not too bad,” Maria replies with a smile, placing her free hand over her flat stomach. At only a few weeks along, she still had quite a long way to go before she began to show. “Just a little bit of morning sickness here and there, but so far, so good.” She pauses and leans her body into Tommy’s side. “I never thought I’d be having a baby in my forties,” she muses with a laugh. “I thought that train had left the station a long time ago. But I guess life had something else planned for me.”
“For us,” Tommy corrects, playfully nudging her.
“For us,” Maria echoes, giving him a loving kiss on his cheek. “Luke calls it a geriatric pregnancy. He told me I’m automatically considered high risk, due to my age and all. But we’re hoping it’ll go smoothly.”
You detect the genuine concern behind her optimistic smile and reach out, gently touching her arm. “I’m sure it will all turn out fine. You just have to make sure that you’re taking good care of yourself and getting plenty of rest.” You point a finger at her, wagging it back and forth. “So, that means no more patrol duties for you, Mrs. Miller.”
“Oh I know,” she laughs again. “I’m on light work duties starting next week and in a few months, it’ll be strict bed rest for me. At least, that’s what Luke recommended, but I’m hoping to stay on my feet for a little bit longer than that.” She tilts her head curiously to the side as she looks at you. “Speaking of Luke, is he around? We haven’t seen him at all tonight.”
Throat bobbing, you grip your glass tightly in your hand. The corners of your mouth threaten to turn downward, but you manage to hold your smile well enough.
At this point, you had pretty much lost track of the number times you’d been asked about Luke.
Where is he? Why isn’t he here with you? Do you think there’s a chance he’ll show up tonight? Can’t you go home and convince him to join us? 
You just about loathed the way he was considered to be a hero in Jackson. The way that every single person in the community adored the man to pieces made you sick to your stomach—Luke was anything but a hero, but nobody knew that. Not a single soul knew the real him, the monster that emerged behind closed doors, the terrible things he did when no one was around.
There had been an occasion or two where you had considered going to Tommy and Maria about it, to tell them all about the horrors that went on within the walls of your home. But even when they’d point out a bruise on your arm or a scrape on your cheek, you would lose the courage and chalk it up to a clumsy accident or injuries sustained while on the job—hell, just a few months ago, you’d blamed an injured shoulder on Ranger, telling Tommy that his beloved stallion had accidentally kicked you during one of your routine examinations. You wanted nothing more than to tell him that it hadn’t been his horse who put you in a sling for three weeks, it had been Luke. But how the hell could you do that?
Luke is the commune’s physician. The commune’s only physician. 
Besides the two older nurses who worked in the clinic along with him, he was the only medically trained professional who knew how to treat severe injuries, perform minor surgeries, and diagnose illnesses—as much as you hated to admit it, Jackson needed him. If you told Tommy and Maria about everything that he’d done to you over the last two years, then you’d risk getting Luke locked up in the town jail, or possibly even thrown out and exiled from the settlement. What would that mean for the people in the community who fell ill or became injured and needed a doctor?
Maybe he wasn’t a hero to you, but to everybody else, he was. People could die without him and his medical knowledge. Hell, Maria would need Luke now more than ever now that she was pregnant.
For as much as you wanted to tell them the truth about him, you just couldn’t find the guts to do it, not when the decision would impact every single person in Jackson.It would be too selfish.
So, you kept quiet and continued to let it happen because what else could you do? 
Nothing. 
There wasn’t a goddamn thing you could do about it.
Tommy says your name, snapping you back out of your thoughts. “Hey, you alright?” he asks you as he gingerly touches your shoulder. “You zoned out on us for a minute there.”
You blink. “Yeah sorry, I’m alright. Um, Luke decided to stay at home and get some rest,” you reply as you shift awkwardly from boot to boot, feeling a sudden heat flood your face. “He’s been working a lot of hours at the clinic and making house calls as well, so he’s just been really tired, you know?”
“Oh, well that’s too bad,” Maria frowns. “Tommy and I were hoping we could say this to the both of you together, but I suppose you’ll have to give him the message on our behalf when you get home to him later tonight.”
You shoot her a puzzled look. “What is it?”
“We know we don’t say this as often as we should, but you and Luke do so much for us. So much for Jackson,” Tommy says, sincere gratitude dripping from his tone. “We’re damn lucky to have the two of you here. Me and Maria, and everyone in this community, we’re all deeply indebted to both of you for all you do.”
You stare at him. “Everyone here works very hard, Tommy—”
“Now, I ain’t saying they don’t,” he interrupts you by holding up his hand. “But let’s be honest here. Luke, he takes good care of all of our people, you take good care of all of our horses—people and horses, that’s what keeps this place runnin’ like a well oiled machine and you know it just as well as we do. Without the both of you lookin’ after our two most important resources, I ain’t all too sure where the hell this place would be.”
Maria nods in agreement with her husband and squeezes his arm. “Oh, don’t be so modest,” she remarks upon seeing the bewildered expression on your face. “He’s right. And we need you to know how much we appreciate everything the two of you do for this community.”
Tommy grins, raising his glass in a toast. “To you and Luke.”
Stomach churning, you flash them your very best smile and lift your own glass, clinking it against his and then to Maria’s bottle of lemonade. “Well, I will certainly give him the kind message when I get home tonight. Thank you.” You take a quick sip of your drink, suddenly feeling overwhelmed. The room feels hot, like it had been lit on fire and you were standing too close to the flames. “It’s starting to feel a bit warm in here. I’m going to go outside for a minute to get some fresh air. Excuse me.”
Before either of them can utter another word, you spin around on your heel and hastily make your way across the barn towards the exit, being careful not to bump into the dancing couples on the dance floor along the way. Even as you hurried out, you’d caught sight of Ellie sitting with Dina at one of the tables, digging into her plate full of barbecue. Dina had leaned over and whispered something into Ellie’s ear and Ellie let out a loud, obnoxious cackle through a mouthful of food.
Despite the circumstances, you can’t help but smile—an actual, genuine smile this time around.
At least Ellie seemed to be having a good time.
That’s more than enough for you.
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Joel glimpses over Esther’s shoulder. 
His eyebrows pull together in a mixture of confusion and concern as he watches you practically run out of the barn alone with a drink clutched in your hand and a strange expression on your face—you appear to be upset over something.
The blonde in front of him had been going on and on about where she was from, although he hadn’t quite been listening to her the entire time she had been talking—or at all. 
Had Esther said Vermont? Or maybe it had been Virginia?
Joel wasn’t all too sure, but he didn’t care enough to ask her to clarify. Besides, his thoughts were far too busy preoccupied with someone else. Someone he needed to make sure was alright.
“Listen Esther, s’been real nice talkin’ to you,” he states as he offers the woman the most polite smile he can possibly muster up for her. He tries to ignore the awkward way she’d pouted her lips at him, a sad, disappointed look flashing in her eyes. “But I’ve gotta go and take care of somethin’ for a minute. Will you excuse me?”
He doesn’t even give Esther the chance to respond. Setting his drink down on the counter, he gives her a quick nod goodbye and steps around her. He starts towards the barn’s exit, but before leaving, he tosses a quick glance in Ellie’s direction just to make sure she’s still doing okay without him. He had been keeping a close and watchful eye on her from the bar the entire time. After a while, it soon became apparent to Joel that Ellie had been doing just fine. She’s scarfing down another heaping helping of bison and potatoes, grinning from ear to ear as she talks with Dina, who seems to be enjoying her company despite her poor table manners.
Joel steps outside into the night and he takes a look around, searching for you among the small, scattered groups of people who stood mingling with one another. Gossiping women, drunk and rowdy patrolmen, children running around—he jumps slightly as a giggling little redheaded girl who can’t be older than five circles around his legs with a curly haired boy who is about the same age chasing after her. He lightly shoos them away from him and they take off running in another direction.
He scans his surroundings once more.
You’re nowhere to be found.
Humming, Joel glances down.
He notices a long trail of footprints left behind by what had to be a pair of cowboy boots, similar to the ones you’d been wearing. The strange way in which they veered off in a random direction away from the rest of the crowd tips him off almost a bit too easily—he knows they belong to you. Without giving it a second thought, he starts to follow your tracks and they lead him all the way around to the back of the barn.
That’s where Joel finds you, leaning against the wooden paddock fence. You’re back is to him, your head tilted upwards. Your gaze seems to be lost somewhere up in the velvet, purple night sky and you’re swaying along to the pretty country melody that, even outside, can still be heard coming from inside the barn.
Turn around, a sound voice in the back of his mind tries to reason with him. Go go back inside.
He ignores it, his legs moving forward, eager to close the distance between the two of you.
The sound of his heavy boots crunching on the rocks in the dirt as he draws closer to you causes you to jump. Whirling around, you gasp and your free hand flies to your chest.
“M’sorry,” Joel quickly apologizes, holding up both his hands to show you he’s not a threat. “Didn’t mean to startle you.”
“Joel?” You’re surprised to see him.  “What are you doing out here?”
The area out behind the barn is just as dark as it is secluded, however, the moon is full, big, and bright, its silvery glow illuminating each and every single one of your features in such a beautiful way that it makes his throat go dry, just like it had earlier that evening when he’d first seen you in that dress.
“Well ain’t that funny. I was actually just ‘bout to ask you the same exact question, darlin’.” He falls into step beside you, leaning back against the fence. “What are you doin’ out here all by your lonesome?”
“Oh, I just needed some fresh air, that’s all,” you reply with a small, light shrug of your shoulders. You turn back around, leaning your forearms on top of the wooden fence, both hands wrapped firmly around your glass of whiskey. You’re standing so close to Joel that your shoulder touches his, though neither of you make a move to put space in between your bodies. “What’s your excuse?”
“Needed a breather from Esther,” he confesses. 
It was partially the truth. 
He couldn’t tell you he’d really come outside to check on you.
“What do you mean? Didn’t you like her?”
“Don’t get me wrong, she’s nice and all,” Joel says, letting out a chuckle. He shakes his head. “She just ain’t the kind of company I’m lookin’ for tonight, y’know?” He pauses for just a brief second and crosses his arms over his chest, his sudden change in position causing his shoulder to press even closer against your own. “Tommy mentioned her to me when we were havin’ lunch together yesterday. Said he’d be willin’ to set us up, but I didn’t think his dumbass would actually follow through with it.”
Confused, you shoot him a strange look.
“I’d told him I wasn’t interested in meetin’ her, but Tommy’s always had a real habit of not listenin’ to me,” he remarks, shaking his head once again.
The question falls from your lips before you can even think about trying to stop it. “Why aren’t you interested in her?” you blurt. Awkwardly, you clear your throat and add in a nonchalant tone, “Esther’s gorgeous, Joel. Most guys around here would jump at the chance to be with her.”
“S’like I told you. She just ain’t the kind of company I’m lookin’ for tonight.”
“So then, what kind of company are you looking for?”
Joel hesitates, then answers honestly. “Yours.”
“Oh,” you breathe out, your heart skipping a nervous beat.
He tests the waters. “That alright to say?”
“Mhm,” is all you’re able to utter.
Fighting to take a steady, even breath, you clutch at your glass even harder. 
“Y’know, when I was on my way out here, I saw Ellie and Dina still sittin’ together,” Joel finally says after a minute or two, breaking the silence. “She honestly seems to be havin’ a real good time with her.” He nudges your shoulder with his own, a hint of amusement in his voice as he turns to you and asks, “Now tell me why I’ve got this strange little feelin’ that you had somethin’ to do with that?”
Your immediate expression of guilt prompts his grin. 
You’d been caught red handed.
“Okay, so I may or may not have talked to Dina earlier today while we were setting up the barn for the party. I asked if she could do me a favor and at least try and talk to Ellie tonight,” you admit, sheepishly. “I told her about how much Ellie reminds me of her, and how I thought they would get along.” You feel his dark eyes fix themselves intently on you and the heat creeps to your cheeks as you continue to explain yourself to him. It’s only just now occurred to you that perhaps you should have ran the idea by Joel—he’s her guardian and the last thing you want to do is cross his boundaries. “It took a little convincing, but she agreed. Dina can still be quite shy sometimes, but she’s a really good girl, Joel. I promise.”
Joel raises an eyebrow at you, letting his arms fall down to his sides. “Really? You did that?”
“Yeah. I did.” Anxiously, you take a long sip of liquor before adding, “I hope that’s okay.”
“‘Course it is, darlin’. I really appreciate you doin’ that for Ellie.” Joel’s gaze softens and meets yours with genuine sincerity. “I appreciate everythin’ that you’ve done for her. It means a lot to me. More than I can probably even explain.”
“I can tell how important she is to you.”
Joel nods. “Ellie’s the most important thing in the world to me.” He stops, exhaling a long, heavy sigh. “She’s been through a whole lot—a hell of a lot more than anyone her age should have to go through.” Once again, he pauses momentarily, trying to keep his emotions in check. He swallows harshly and subconsciously leans closer towards you without realizing it. “Ellie, she ain’t my blood, but she’s my daughter. For a long time, I thought I couldn’t take care of her. I thought that I didn’t have what it takes to protect her.”
“And what about now?”
“Now that we’re here, I feel real different ‘bout it all. I finally feel like I can keep Ellie safe, y’know? Give her the life she deserves,” Joel states, sounding a bit relieved, almost like he’s only just now made the realization that things are different now—it’s not like it was while they’d been out on the road. Each day isn’t a fight for survival, a game of trying to stay alive long enough just to see the next. Sleeping in the dirt, watching her go hungry, seeing her have to wear the same dirty clothes for weeks at a time, those were all now things of the past.
Pulling yourself back from the fence, you glance up at him with a curious expression. 
“Ellie hasn’t told me all that much about what she’s gone through—about what either of you have gone through.” You catch sight of the worry that flashes in his eyes and reassure him, “And I don’t plan on asking because it isn’t any of my business. But in the short time I’ve gotten to know Ellie, I’ve already seen it in her eyes, Joel. It’s all there.”
“What’s there?”
“Every bad thing that’s ever happened to her.”
Joel hangs his head. “Jesus.”
And just like that, he somehow feels like a fucking failure all over again.
“I know that you’re worried about her, Joel. I don’t blame you, but you’re doing all that you can do,” you remind him, the kindness in your voice bringing him the warmth and comfort he’s been needing for far too long. “You’re here in the community now and she’s safe. That’s what matters—all the rest is going to fall right into place soon enough. Just give her a bit of time and don’t put so much pressure on yourself.”
Joel sighs. “I just want what’s best for her, y’know? Just like any normal parent would want for their kid.”
“And you are doing the best that you can, just like any normal parent would.” You reach out, gently placing your hand on his bare forearm, your thumb brushing his warm skin. Your mere touch sends a tingle up his spine, and he can’t help but wonder if the connection had done the same for you. “It’s easy to see how much you care about her. How much you love her.”
“I do love her,” he murmurs. It feels odd, almost foreign for him to say it out loud. Of course he loves Ellie, and although he’s fairly certain she knew that and she loved him too, those three specific words had never been exchanged between them, and he had a hunch they never would be. “All I want is to do right by her. After everythin’ she’s been through—I just want her to finally be happy.”
“That says a lot about the kind of man you are.”
Biting back a scoff, Joel shakes his head. He doesn’t want you thinking he’s a good person—you’d be horrified if you knew about all the blood that stained his hands, about all of the things he’d done in the last two decades to survive. He’d stolen, he’d destroyed, he’d murdered. He’d lied.
He was not a good man. 
Your hand drops away from his arm, a lot sooner than either of you would have liked.
“So, what’s your story?” he asks, deciding to switch the focus of the conversation onto you. “How’d you end up in good ol’ Jackson, Wyoming?” 
“You take another sip of your drink, which is now completely watered down by the melted ice in your glass. “Well, like I told you, I grew up in New Mexico on a horse ranch. It was me, my parents, and my little brother,” you start to explain. “After the outbreak happened, me and my family ended up in the Albuquerque QZ. We were there for quite some time, until there was a breach at one of the gates and the zone was overrun with infected.” You pause briefly as the memories of that night come flooding back. By now, you’ve repressed them enough that they don’t bring you to your knees the way they used to when you had been younger. “Me and my dad made it out alive, but my mom and my brother didn’t.”
Joel frowns. “Shit. M’real sorry, darlin’. I shouldn’t have asked—”
“It’s okay,” you assure him with a tiny nod. “After me and my dad made it out of the zone, we found this group of people who were heading east, trying to get to Boston. It wasn’t long before everyone started to get picked off one by one—by infected, raiders, and even slavers. Somehow, me and my dad survived all that, but we found ourselves alone again. We were starving, had no shelter, and winter was just around the corner. We honestly didn’t know what we were going to do, and even though neither of us ever said it to each other, we were both so sure we were going to die. But then Tommy and his patrol group came across us one night. Once we proved that neither of us were infected, he brought us in.”
“You’ve been through a lot,” Joel states. He never would have even guessed.
You just seemed so well put together.
“Haven’t we all?” You let out a humorless laugh.
A silence falls like a curtain over both of you, but it’s comfortable.
Tranquil. 
Although it had been a warmer night, it was now much later into the evening, and a chilly breeze whips its way through the settlement, whisking its cool and crisp fingers through your hair. It causes the white daisy you’d been wearing to fall, and the flower flutters to the ground, landing right in between Joel’s boots. Without giving it a second thought, he reaches down and picks it up, being careful as he gingerly dusts the dirt off of the delicate petals. He turns to you, tucking the flower back behind your ear. As his hand falls away from you, his index finger accidentally grazes the soft skin of your cheek, and every part of him floods with the burning desire to feel more of you.
“M’sorry ‘bout that,” he mumbles sheepishly.
“It’s quite alright,” you say—and you mean it. You can’t even remember the last time someone’s touch set you on fire like this. You’d been feeling cold and empty and numb for so long, and while all of the things that Joel’s making you feel had become almost foreign to you, they’re starting to reignite that spark of life inside of you that you thought you’d lost a long time ago.
From the inside of the barn, you and Joel hear the band begin to play their cover of Can’t Help Falling in Love. 
“Elvis, huh?” Joel muses with a hum. He sounds impressed.
You’re not sure if all the alcohol you’d been consuming throughout the evening has only now just decided to kick into full gear in your system or whether you really do just lack any kind of common sense, but you find yourself looking up at him shyly through your eyelashes. “How about another dance?”
His lips part slightly in surprise. “To this song?”
Every inch of your skin burns hot with embarrassment and your fingers curl tighter around your glass. “I’m sorry, I shouldn’t have asked. It’s just that I really love to dance,” you sputter out nervously, wishing you had kept your mouth shut. You only dig yourself further into the hole as you continue to ramble. “Luke doesn’t like to dance. He never wants to dance with me—”
That’s all Joel had needed to hear.
He reaches for your glass, prying it out of your grasp. He sets it down on top of the fence and holds his hand out to you. “I’ll dance with you, darlin’.”
Looking up at him in surprise, you accept and place your hand in his. His other hand finds your waist and the two of you begin swaying along to the music—a smile that could light up the entire town breaks out across your face. 
Joel didn’t know Luke, but he couldn’t fathom how the man you were married to wouldn’t do just about anything to see that smile.
“Wait, I thought you couldn’t dance,” you tease, noticing that he’s leading you.
Flashing you a cocky grin, he shrugs. “Guess the kid was right. I ain’t so bad for fifty six with creakin’ knees.”
Remembering Ellie’s words from earlier, you throw your head back and laugh.
His stomach turns, twisting in a tangle of desire and nerves.
You’re married.
But that does nothing to stop the want, the need. 
For either of you.
Being in his arms, it’s wrong.
It’s more than an innocent dance—it’s the beginning of something that’s bound to lead to nothing but trouble and you both know it.
Joel continues to lead you and begins singing along to the familiar lyrics, quietly, but just loud enough for you to hear the sultry richness of his voice. “Like a river flows, surely to the sea,” he sings, subconsciously giving your hand a gentle squeeze. “Darlin’ so it goes, some things are meant to be.”
Impressed, you raise an eyebrow at him. “You’ve got a nice voice, Joel.”
“Y’think so?”
You nod. “I do. What, were you a singer in your first life or something?”
“Close.”
“Really? What did you do?”
“I was a contractor,” Joel replies, grinning as he elicits another sweet laugh from you. “Owned my own construction business with Tommy. I did enjoy singin’ though—and playin’ the guitar too. But it was a hobby more than anythin’ since I don’t think music would’ve paid the bills.”
You smile up at him. “Oh, well now you’re going to have to play the guitar for me sometime. Maybe even treat me to a whole song?”
“I still owe Ellie a song,” he remembers, shaking his head. “But I don’t have a guitar, so it gets me out of it.”
“Well then, we’re going to have to find you one and when we do, you’ll have to play something for us,” you tell him. “Deal?”
“Deal.” Joel agrees without thinking. He starts singing along to the lyrics again. “Take my hand, take my whole life too—” 
“But I can’t help falling in love with you.” You try not to laugh again at the shock on his face as you finished the lyric for him.
“Hey now, you’ve got a real nice voice yourself, darlin’.”
Darlin’. 
You shouldn’t let him call you that.
Out of respect for your husband, you should tell him it’s not okay. None of this is okay.
But it is okay. 
“Oh, now you’re just trying to flatter me, Miller,” you accuse him, playfully. 
The song ends and neither of you make a move to let go of one another.
Joel’s eyes fall to your pretty, plush lips and it takes every ounce of strength he has inside of him not to lean down and press his own lips against them.
Finally, he forces himself to let you go and takes a step backward, clearing his throat. “I should, uh—I should go and find Ellie so I can get her home. S’gettin’ kinda late.”
You nod, your heart slamming painfully against your sternum. “Of course,” you say, slightly breathless. “I’ll come along with you so I can say goodnight to her.”
As the two of you make your way around the barn and back towards the entrance, Joel sees a tall, slender man with short dark hair approaching. He’d called out your name and something inside Joel’s mind just clicks together—he knows exactly who the man is before you’ve even had a chance to open your mouth and say his name.
“Luke?” Stopping abruptly in your tracks, you stiffen and squeak out his name. “What—what are you doing here?”
“There you are, honey.” He comes up to you and immediately takes your arm, pulling you from Joel’s side and over to his. “Tommy told me you might be out here. I was just coming to look for you.”
It takes thirty seconds for Joel to size him up. Luke’s younger than himself, definitely closer in age to Tommy—somewhere around his mid to late forties. He’s a lot more clean cut than most of the other rugged men in the commune with his short, neatly kept dark hair and a clean shaven face. Though he’s on the thinner side, he’s in decent shape, but Joel’s wider, broader and far, far more intimidating.
“What are you doing here?” you ask again.
“Now, is that really how a loving wife should greet her husband?” Luke laughs, pulling you even closer into his side. 
Joel isn’t all too fond of the way he’s holding you. 
He’s rough, harsh.
“I decided to come and check it out. See what all the fuss is about,” Luke says. He glances at Joel, his green eyes giving him a once over—sizing him up, just like Joel had done to him. “Don’t be rude, honey. Aren’t you going to introduce me to your new friend here?”
You speak softly, almost too softly.
“Luke, this is Joel Miller.”
“Ah. You’re Tommy’s brother, right?”
Joel tries not to sound too curt, but fails. “That’s right.”
“Joel, this is Luke.” You can’t even look him in the eye as you introduce your spouse. “He’s my husband.”
Luke extends a courteous hand. “It is a pleasure to meet you, Joel.” His other hand finds and takes yours. “I do hope that my wife here hasn’t been bothering you tonight. She can be quite the little chatterbox. Makes me wish she came with a mute button sometimes.”
Joel’s dark eyes briefly flit to Luke’s hand holding yours, taking note of the way he’s gripping it so tightly that his knuckles had gone white. Between that and the comment he’d just made about you, Joel had every fucking desire to connect his fist to the side of Luke’s face.
“Luke, please,” you whisper, throwing him a tiny glare. 
“Oh come on now, honey. Where did your sense of humor go? You know I’m only joking,” Luke states, squeezing your hand a little harder, causing you to squirm.
Something tells Joel he’s not kidding around.
He’d meant what he had said.
“She hasn’t been a bother at all,” Joel speaks in your defense. “Actually, I came out here to talk to her and to thank her for bein’ so kind to my kid, Ellie. Your wife here, she’s been nothin’ but good to her since we arrived.”
“Well, as long as she wasn’t being a bother.” Luke glances down at you. “If you’ll excuse us, there’s a few people that I still need to see and say hello to inside. Come along, honey.” He glances at Joel, a strange glint in his eye as he tells him, “Welcome to Jackson, Joel.”
His jaw clenches as he watches him drag you into the barn.
Nothing about Luke sat right with him.
The way he’d spoken to you, touched you, treated you.
And then there was you.
The light had instantly left your eyes the second he’d come around. 
Something wasn’t right.
A rough hand on his shoulder startles him out of his thoughts.
“Really, Joel? Really? Jesus, what the fuck is wrong with you?” Tommy hisses, yanking him over to the side of the barn where nobody would overhear him. “What the fuck did I tell you yesterday in the mess hall?”
“The hell are you fuckin’ talkin’ ‘bout?”
His brother glares at him. “I know that you ain’t as fuckin’ dumb as you look, Joel. What the fuck were you doin’ out here alone with her? Huh?”
Joel purses his lips together tightly in silence.
What had he seen?
Having read his mind, Tommy shoves his shoulder. “You were dancin’ with her you fuckin’ asshole? Did you fuckin’ forget that she’s a married woman?”
Joel rolls his eyes at him and aggressively shoves his hand off of his shoulder. “We were just dancin’ together, alright? Ain’t like we were makin’ out, Tommy. Can you fuckin’ relax?”
“I don’t give a fuck, Joel! If I saw any man that wasn’t me dancin’ with Maria like that, I’d be fuckin’ pissed. I’d kick his fuckin’ ass,” he spits. “Her husband just showed up to the goddamn party. You’re fuckin’ lucky that it was me who saw you out there with her and not him. What if he’d seen you two? Then what?”
“Christ, Tommy. Relax,” Joel tries again to calm him. “It was just a dance, alright? It was nothin’ more than that. Okay?”
“You listen to me and you listen to me good, ‘cause I ain’t fuckin’ gonna say it again, big brother. Don’t go gettin’ any ideas ‘bout her. I don’t need you to go around stirrin’ up any kind of trouble,” Tommy says, his voice firm. “We can’t have that kinda shit here. Maria won’t tolerate it, and y’know what, I won’t either. Don’t fuckin’ cause problems. Got it?”
“Didn’t plan on it,” Joel mutters, bitterly.
Tommy narrows his eyes at him.
“Just fuckin’ watch yourself, Joel,” he warns. “I fuckin’ mean it.”
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rafeandonlyrafe · 8 days
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words: 600 (+ three images)
warnings: entire fic is through phone calls/text messages, parental death (ward), established relationship, kinda protective rafe but its cute he just misses his girl, includes pictures of "readers" face/body, kind of illusions to sex (like barely!), overall pretty fluffy
“rafey!” you squeal as you answer your phone seconds after it rings. “how's it going?”
“well, everything is still standing.” rafe huffs out. you can practically hear the stress in his voice.
“that's good, baby. i miss you a lot.” sure, he just left this morning to drive back to the outer banks, but that doesn't change the fact that you miss him anytime he's away from you.
“god, i miss you too. if rose didn't need me here id still be-
“i know.” you cut rafe off. “you're back for three days with your family. it'll be fine and then we will be back together.”
you know being back in the outer banks is stressful for rafe after everything that happened. the mess with barry, the pogues, and then all culminating in his dad dying. when you decided to go a couple hours away to college, you still thought you'd have to persuade your boyfriend to come with you, to leave the only life he's ever known, but he jumped at the chance.
you live in a luxury townhouse right near downtown. you're even able to walk to most of your classes, of course with rafe by your side.
“you're right.” rafe hums. “we are figuring out the will stuff tomorrow morning.”
“i wish i could be there for you. text or call if you need anything.” you have classes tomorrow, but you'd drop anything if rafe really needed you.
“yeah just… text me updates, please? even if you just do the laundry or something. it helps to know.”
“of course i will.” you smile, hearing some commotion in the background. “and rafey? give wheezie a hug for me.”
“is that y/n?” you hear her voice in the background, then the fumbling of the phone being handed off.
“y/n!” wheezie squeals.
“wheezie, my girl!”
--
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“how are you getting to class?” rafe asks, looking into the room where proceedings are about to start, going over his fathers will and who gets what. he knows most of it will go to rose, most likely the house and the real estate company. he doesn't really care. he has a new life now, one with you.
“amber is gonna drive me and pick me up. and no, her boyfriend will not be there.” you giggle, knowing even though amber and her boyfriend steven have been together since third grade, rafe would still worry with him around.
“and you're going to poli sci and then your geology lab, right?” rafe has your schedule memorized, but he likes to hear your confirmation anyways.
“yup!” you nod, even though rafe can't see you. “im excited for todays lab, actually. it's not rock identification, which you know i suck at.”
rafe let's out a soft laugh, having sat and listened to your complaining about rocks for hours already this semester.
“rafe, it's starting soon.” rose says, her words being picked up by you, otherwise rafe probably would have just ignored her in favor of keeping talking.
“alright, baby. hope it all goes well and doesn't take too long. i love you.” you coo into the phone.
“love you more.”
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“home tomorrow.” rafe whispers softly, not wanting to wake up anyone else in the house. he's exhausted, so they must be too. it was a long day with lots of legal jargon, but everything got divided up about how he expected it to. 
most to rose, then the additional savings divided up evenly between him, sarah, and wheezie.
“im glad.” you whisper back, matching his tone even though you're home alone. “i ordered a cute pair of pajamas to wear to help me sleep. you know how much i struggle without you.”
“your insomnia cure.” rafe smiles, remembering what you called him after you first started sharing a bed, able to easily relax into him and fall into a true deep sleep.
“mhm.” you hum out, letting out a yawn. “do you mind staying on the call until i fall asleep?”
“baby, ill stay on all night.”
--
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sfw tags: @winterrrnight @bejeweledreverie
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