#this is only for like the first few months At Most as she heals then all the baby-ing stops as things go back to normal | Explore Tumblr Posts and Blogs

really-fanny-longbottom · 11 days

Text

NEVER YOURS

Pairings: Azriel x Reader, Azriel x Elain, Lucien x Reader

Summary: Azriel never regretted his decisions so much like he does right now.

Warnings: Angst (like a lot), fluff (also a lot because we need a balance)

Words: 6.1k (I got carried away, hehe)

Author's Note: Hi everyone! I was supposed to post the prequel to Second Chance (where the batboys find the reader), but I started writing, and this is what came out! It's different from the other two fics I wrote, but I kinda liked it, anyways I made a little reference to Percy Jackson.

Enjoy!

You were born in Day Court during the longest and the warmest day of the year: Summer Solstice. Even though it's not a custom to exchange gifts on that holiday, your parents always told you that you were their greatest gift and that the sun shined brighter that day like he knew that you would be entering this world very soon.

Your father was Helion's best and longest friend, and he had a place in his Court as his second in command and advisor. Your mother was the lead healer of the Court. She was one of the most powerful and talented healers of Prythian, being a very close second to Madja.

Due to your parents' jobs, you grew up in the Day Court Palace and close to Helion, who didn't just happen to be your High Lord but also your godfather.

Your parents reconsider that maybe making Helion your godfather had been a mistake because of how much he spoiled you. On your 4th birthday, he gave you a black baby pegasus as a present, which you decided to name him Blackjack. When he discovered that you liked reading, he had a private library built in your room with all kinds of books. When you were seven and heard an old male saying that females should only wear dresses, you only wore pants for the next three months and of course, Helion made sure you had every type of pants at your disposal.

When your parents tried to scold him, he just scoffed with his only response being, "She's my goddaughter. What else am I supposed to do?" with a big grin plastered in his face.

You weren't Helion's child, but he always treated you like one, and that never changed, especially after your parents' death.

Your favorite thing about your parents was their mating bond. After you learned that mates are rare and a blessing, it made every single thing about your parents' love even more unique and pure.

You saw first hand what true love is really like. You saw how much they loved, cared, supported, and protected each other. You saw loyalty and honesty in their deepest forms. Seeing your parents' mating bond made you wish to the stars for a mate, and that one day, you would be blessed enough to find him.

But you also saw how deep a mating bond could go. You saw it first hand, too.

You saw it when your mother died after getting infected by a rare disease while trying to help her patients. Her death destroyed your father. The pain and the grief of losing your mother, his mate, and the love of his life were so big that your father followed her into the next life a few days later, so they could start their next journey together.

Before he died, your father made Helion promise him that he would take care of you, which he agreed without hesitation. He became more protective of you. He couldn't stop thinking how unfair it was for you to lose your parents at such a young age, only eleven years old, when Helion had them for centuries.

Your godfather made sure to provide you with anything you needed from the best education to the best clothes and when your healing powers start manifesting and you decide to follow your mother's steps, Helion called in a favor to Thesan to see if he could teach you himself. The High Lord of Dawn was happy to accept, and so were you at the thought of having him as your teacher.

You moved to Dawn Court for a year where you learned everything about being a healer, not only with the High Lord himself but also with his best healers.

You became one of the best: talented, powerful, gifted, and wise. Just like your mother.

Madja was looking for an apprentice at the time you returned to Day, and when she heard about your skills, she asked for you. Rhysand reached out to Helion with Madja's offer: you would be her apprentice, work in the clinic with her but you would also assist her if she ever needed to go to a patient's residence, and would learn everything she could teach you.

It wasn't needed to convince you to agree. You had heard about Madja and her healing, after Thesan, she was the healer you wanted to work with the most, so of course you were more than happy to have a chance to have her as your mentor. Rhysand added that you would be welcome to stay in one of his personal residences, the House of Wind, during your time in Velaris.

You were only supposed to stay in the Night Court for a year, but that was before you met the Shadowsinger.

However, despite wanting the apprenticeship more than anything, if you had known what would happen when you agreed to go to the Night Court, you would never have accepted the offer.

Azriel couldn't sleep.

No matter how much he tried, he couldn't. Not with tomorrow so close, not when he knew what was waiting for him in the morning.

The past was haunting him tonight, his thoughts hadn't stopped since he had been informed earlier of tomorrow's meeting. So now, here he was, trying to keep his eyes open even though his body was protesting for him to do the opposite.

But he was fighting that need because every time he closed his eyes, you were all he saw. Your beautiful face with your sparkling eyes, your smooth hair, your pointy ears, your sweet voice, and your soft laughter. You were haunting his thoughts like a punishment for all those years ago.

So all he could do now was to sit on the edge of his balcony with his legs hanging off while waiting for the sun to be born, and remember how things used to be before he destroyed everything.

Everything was perfect in the beginning. Velaris was beautiful, the people were kind, and the pastries were absolutely delicious.

The only thing you actually missed, besides Helion, was the warmth of the sun like no other Court had but the Day Court. But that was just the Day citizen in you talking.

Your apprenticeship was going amazing. You and Madja had instantly connected, and you were learning so much. Two weeks later, you were already attending your own patients without supervision. You really had a gift, and every time Madja complimented your powers, you gave all the credits to your genes, to your mom. It warmed your heart knowing that the Mother had blessed you with this part of her. In this way, it felt like she was always with you.

The House of Wind felt just like home, and you adjusted perfectly. The Inner Circle had welcomed you with open arms, and you got along with everyone. They thought you and Morrigan would be the closest of all, but they got a big surprise when it turned out to be you and Azriel.

The Shadowsinger was different from everyone you ever met. Everyone in Day was so loud, open, and extroverted. But not him. He was calm, reserved, and difficult to read, but with time, you ended up finding out that the two of you were more alike than you thought. You were able to go through the shell that Azriel had so perfectly built around him over the centuries.

A friendship was born. Every day, Azriel would fly you to the clinic and then back to the House. You explored Velaris together and made your personal mission to try every single restaurant and bakery from the City of Starlight.

You walked along the Sidra and even stopped once in a while to dance along the melodies that the musicians were playing. You would read together whether that was in the library, in your room, or in his. You even started training with him and sometimes, Cassian.

You became each other's person. When a day at the clinic was hard or you would lose a patient, he was there to hug and comfort you, and you found yourself doing the same for him about his missions. So you decided to take the next step and spoke about your parents' death, how much still affected you losing them.

And in that moment, Azriel realized how much trust you put in him, so he decided to return it and opened about his past, his family, and his hands. You listened to every word, cleaned every tear, and held him for as long as he needed.

You found yourself falling in love with him a little more day by day, and it only took you a few months to realize that you were completely in love.

The day the bond snapped was one of the happiest days of your life. It happened during the most beautiful celebration in the Night Court: Starfall.

Your hair was tied in a long braid that reached down to your waist, decorating the braid were small yellow daylilies. You were wearing a golden dress that fit perfectly against your sun-kissed skin. The dress had a slit on the left side that went up to the top of your thigh, a single strap held the dress on your right shoulder and when you turned around, whoever was behind you could have a perfect view of your naked back. Golden jewels rested on your ears and neck.

You looked like a goddess, one blessed by the sun itself. You were shining just like a Day Court citizen should.

Azriel standed next to you in the balcony while gazing at the spirits passing. Both of your hands rested on the stone of the balcony, and when you went to adjust your hand, it brushed against Azriel's. At the new feeling, you looked up to find his eyes, only to see the Shadowsinger already looking at you. In that moment, with the touching of your hands and the meeting of your eyes, the world stopped.

Your hands start interviewing, and everything else just disappears.

It was just the two of you and the sound of your heartbeats. And then, a golden thread appeared and started tying your hearts and souls.

Azriel held your free hand and pressed it against his own chest, right where his heart laid. You followed his action, freeing your intertwined hands and putting his hand on your chest, above your heart.

With the final loop of the golden thread around your hearts, Azriel bent down and kissed you.

That moment couldn't be more beautiful and magical even if you tried. You had finally found the mate that you had wished to the stars all those years ago.

Everything was perfect. You had everything you wanted and more. You lived in a beautiful city that you learned to love and were starting to call it home. You had the job of your life, working alongside one of your idols. Amazing friends that made you feel welcomed and part of a little family. And finally, your mate, the male you were in love with, long before that beautiful and sacred golden thread. Everything was perfect.

But of course, nothing lasts forever. And all of that disappeared when Elain Archeron came into the picture.

Ten years. He couldn't believe that much time had passed. All those years without you.

It had been ten years since the last time he saw you. Ten years since he had heard something regarding you. Ten years since he had broken your heart. And ten years since he had made the biggest mistake of his entire existence.

You had moved back to Day Court after that day, after what happened and after what he did.

The High Lord of Day had forbidden Azriel from seeing you and from trying to contact you in any way. And months later, when the rumors of a certain Shadowsinger flying above the Palace in hopes to get a glimpse of you reached his ears, Helion banned him from his Court.

Helion had always been a very charismatic and loving person. He's kind, generous, and a very good friend. He gets along with almost everyone, always joking around and laughing. Some people may say that he's the nicest and kindest High Lord that Prythian has ever seen.

When problems arise, he always tries to find a solution to solve them or if a solution is not possible, a way to improve them. But not this time. Not when it comes to you and his son, Lucien.

Because your heart wasn't the only one to be shattered that day, no, Lucien's heart was a victim, too. So, from that moment, everything that Helion did was to protect you and Lucien, to make sure that you felt safe, that you had space and time to heal. You thought that was ironic, considering you were a healer yourself.

Azriel's banishment wasn't the only consequence from the events of that day.

That day also cost the alliance between the Day Court and the Night Court, and when the alliance fell apart, so did Helion and Rhysand's friendship.

But Azriel wasn't the only one to blame for all of this. Elain Archeron was guilty, too. She, too, was banished from the Day Court and forbidden to contact Lucien in any way.

But unlike Azriel, Elain's actions cause far more consequences than his.

The Autumn Court followed the same decisions as the Day Court. The banishment of Azriel and Elain and the prohibition of any kind of contact with Lucien. Eris, now the new High Lord of the Autumn Court after Beron's death, didn't take lightly to what happened to his little brother.

The two of them had reconnected after Eris became High Lord. They talked through everything that had happened in the last centuries, made peace with their past, and decided to move forward together. Now, the brothers were inseparable and had the kind of relationship they had always wanted since they were younger. So when Eris heard what had happened, he considered those actions as a personal attack.

He went as far as to offer Lucien the opportunity to choose the Blood Duel, which his little brother refused, saying that all of this had already caused enough pain. Eris wasn't angry just because of Lucien. He was angry because of you, too. You were the first person to give him the benefit of the doubt, the first one to not judge him, unlike the others you tried to get to know him, to be his friend and he let you.

You were the first one to know the real Eris, to know what he hid behind the mask. Therefore, you had a special place in his heart. Even if you didn't share the same blood, you were part of his family.

But that didn't stop with Day and Autumn. Spring joined them, too.

Despite everything that happened and the fact that they were still working on their friendship, Tamlin's loyalty remained with Lucien. Spring had been Lucien's home for decades, and with that came a brotherhood between the two of them.

Needless to mention that Jurian and Vassa's loyalties also remained with Lucien.

To everyone outside the situation, all of this may seem overreacted and exaggerated. But to everyone involved, it's not.

After all, you and Lucien almost died. That's what happens when a mating bond is rejected.

Azriel couldn't believe things had turned out this way. He was so sure that the Cauldron was wrong, that he belonged with Elain. Three sisters for three brothers. How more poetic could it be?

There were signals everywhere: Feyre with Rhysand, Nesta with Cassian, and Elain with him. Elain wouldn't go close to Lucien or talk to him, but she would sit next to him whether during dinners or on the couch, she would talk to him, and requested his company when she went to the garden or to the city. Even his shadows disappeared every time he was with her.

Weren't those signals clear enough? They were meant to be. The Cauldron was wrong.

So Azriel did what he thought was right. He rejected the mating bond with you, and Elain did the same with Lucien.

He never thought that the rejection of the bond would've almost cost your life.

That memory still gave him nightmares to this day. How pale you turned, how you sank to your knees with your hand pressed against your chest, tears running free down your cheeks and muffled screams leaving your lips. How much pain you had suffered and how he had been the cause of it. How once, not that long ago, he had been the reason for your smiles, laughs, and giggles.

But that memory wasn't his. It was Rhysand's. Rhys, who had to go through your mind shields, and knock you unconscious so the pain would stop. But that memory led him to another memory.

The memory of that day and the things that had followed after he shattered your heart.

Azriel wasn't there the moment it happened. No, he was too busy kissing Elain after admitting how much they craved each other.

And while he kissed Elain, he felt that golden thread tying the two of you breaking and start slowly to disappear.

Nothing could have prepared him for that last memory of you when he and Elain were summoned to the River House a few hours later.

Rhys had shown him not as a courtesy but as a lesson of how much his actions can affect others. But you weren't just some other. You were his mate. Former mate. Ex-mate.

Azriel made a move to go find you. He needed to explain it to you, and he needed you to understand, but you were already gone.

Rhys told him that after you regained consciousness, Lucien took you with him back to Day Court.

Lucien. Who you had become instantly friends with since the male's arrival in Velaris. You had treated him just like you were when you moved to the Night Court. You showed him the city, the good restaurants and the best pastries, and also told him about Helion, now that he knew the High Lord was his father and he was his Heir. You wanted him to feel like home, just like you did.

When Azriel made his intentions clear to go to Day and find you, Rhys showed him the letter Helion had sent. The one that forbidden him from seeing you and from trying to contact you in any way. The one that also had the same indications to Elain regarding Lucien. And that if any of them tried to disobey his orders, there would be consequences.

Azriel knew of protective the male was of you and that he would do anything to protect his family, so for a split second, Azriel found himself fearing the High Lord.

Rhysand also ordered them to stay away from the two of you, stating that they had already created enough problems and the Night Court could not afford a war with Day.

After they left his office, Rhys sat down on his chair, trying to think how he was gonna solve this. His mind kept going back to you and Lucien.

He was there when Lucien came for you, the red headed male was also pale and every few minutes, his hand would press to his chest in pain, his eyes were still red, probably from the tears he had shed.

Rhys knew that Helion's letter wouldn't be the only one he would receive that day. And like he was right, three more letters arrived during it. First from Autumn, then Spring and the last one from the Band of Exiles.

Rhys passed a hand through his black hair and released a long sigh, Azriel and Elain actions had just cost four allies to the Night Court.

When you and Lucien arrived in Day, Helion almost fell to his knees at your sight.

You were in Lucien's arms, your eyes half open with tears still following down your cheeks. One of your hands was against your chest, rubbing small circles in a way of trying to get rid of the pain. Lucien wasn't much better.

Helion headed towards you and started examining you for injuries, but he found nothing, and when confusion made his way to his features, Lucien told him everything.

The confusion was replaced by anger, but the anger wasn't just directed towards the Shadowsinger and the middle Archeron sister. Some of it was towards himself.

Towards himself, because seeing you like that, Helion felt that he had broken the promise he made to your dad and that this was his fault.

Without giving time for any more thoughts to fill his mind, Helion led Lucien to your room, where the Heir laid you on the bed. You had fallen asleep in his arms with your cheeks still stained.

Lucien sat on the chair by your desk that was placed in front of your bed and said to Helion that he would stay with you. Helion gave him a firm nod, remembering that Lucien didn't have a room yet in his Palace, but he was about to fix that.

Helion didn't waste any time after making sure that the two of you were okay for now.

He called two of his servants to prepare a room for the young Heir and went straight to his office where he wrote the letter and sent it to Rhysand.

The next week's were a complicated ones but showed that time was the best healer.

You no longer spend the days locked in your room alone. You started to eat properly again and went back to work. Day by day, you were smiling more and sometimes making jokes.

Lucien improved as well. He decided to live in the Day Court for the time being and took his place as Helion's second in command. His relationship with Helion was also getting stronger over time. They were making up for the lost time.

But that wasn't the only thing that changed. Your relationship with Lucien also changed.

You got closer than ever, due to the fact you were the only ones who knew what the other was going through.

You found comfort in each other's presence and started spending more time together to the point where you became each other's favorite person.

Little by little, you start helping each other heal. You started putting back together the pieces that had been broken, and the pain started slowly fading until the day that it didn't hurt anymore.

You two mended your hearts and souls, and for the first time, in a long time, you were full again.

Your friendship grew, and so did your feelings for each other.

Azriel couldn't believe how wrong he had been. Because the Cauldron wasn't wrong, it had never been wrong.

He was the one who was wrong. Right from the beginning.

He and Elain had tried a relationship after yours and Lucien's departure. It worked for six months until it didn't.

Azriel questioned himself why the relationship was starting to fail and why being with Elain was starting to feel wrong.

It didn't take him too long to understand the reason. It was because she wasn't you. He found out that the reason his shadows disappear every time he was with Elain wasn't because they were destined but because they were with you.

His shadows would leave him and Elain to go find you, like they were stating that they wouldn't betray you, that they chose you. On the day he broke up with Elain, he found his shadows in your old room, which once was filled with colors, books, paintings, and light, and now was empty, dusty, and dark. The shadows were swimming around your Starfall dress, the one you wore on the day your bond had snapped. The sight of the dress was painful, and he understood why it had been left behind.

Azriel had tried to apologize, he flew to Day Court and around the Palace trying to find you but he never did and the next day Helion sent a letter with his and Elain's banishment, making Autumn and Spring to have the same decision.

He understood why, they were trying to protect you and Lucien, and even though he didn't have the right, he just wanted to know if you were okay. Ironic, considering he was the reason you were suffering.

He asked Rhys several times if he knew something about you, and Rhys revealed to him that you weren't talking to him or the other members of the Inner Circle either. You had stated that it was too early and still very painful.

So they respected your decision and kept their distance.

That had caused Azriel's guilt to grow even more. How he wished for Nesta to still have her powers so he could go back in time and repair all of this.

The light of the sun broke his thoughts. The sun was finally making its appearance in the orange and yellow sky.

Azriel released a long breath and looked at the clock perched on his bedroom wall.

The morning was here, and he was only two hours away from seeing you.

The Inner Circle stood at the entrance of the Day Court Palace.

Helion had lifted the banishment for this meeting with yours and Lucien consent.

Both of you said that it had been a long time and that the past should stay in the past, but that didn't mean you would be accepting any apologies today.

Koschei was on the rise again, and Prythian needed to come together once more. Right now, your past didn't matter.

The doors swung open, and the Inner Circle made their way inside. A servant led them to the conference room located in the same hallway as Helion's office on the first floor of the Palace.

They sat at the marble table while the servant informed them, "The High Lord will be here in a few minutes." Receiving a nod and a 'Thank you' from Rhysand, the servant left.

Rhys started, "Y/N and Lucien will also be in this meeting. Now, Helion was nice enough to allow the two of you back here, so do not ruin this." He finished while looking at Azriel and Elain, making them both nod their heads.

Helion entered the room, and the Inner Circle raised from their seats. The High Lord of the Day Court made his way to the head of the table. He turned to the side where Rhys, Feyre, and his Inner Circle stood at his left before offering his hand to Rhys to shake it.

Taken by surprise, Rhys needed a few seconds to process what was happening before accepting his hand. Once they had shaken hands, everyone returned to their seats, but not before Helion sent a disapproving look in Azriel's and Elain's direction.

A few minutes into the meeting, the door to the conference room opened again. And there you were.

You were dressed in Day attire, a beautiful white dress that hugged your body, with your hair loosen and golden jewelry adorned your neck and ears. Lucien was by your side also wearing Day attire, one that matched Helion's, with your hand in his.

The Inner Circle held their breaths at your sight. It had been ten years, but all the memories came flashing back to them.

You looked the same, but when you two approached the table, that's when they saw it and shock spread all over their faces.

Azriel couldn't believe what he was seeing. He didn't know what he was expecting to see at this meeting, but it wasn't this.

It wasn't the golden ring that you and Lucien had matching on your left hands informing him that you were married that shocked him.

It was the small and round belly that your free hand was resting on and the sweet vanilla scent that was filling the air. The scent of yours and Lucien's baby.

"Apologies for our delay," Lucien started, then looking in your direction with a smile continued "Someone had a big appetite this morning." He ended with a laugh.

You looked at his gaze, a genuine smile on your lips. "Shut up." You whispered.

Lucien grabs the back of your chair, pulling it to give you enough space to sit. "Thank you, my love." You said while watching him taking the seat at your right, making you stay seated between him and Helion.

For the first time since you entered the room, you looked at the people in front of you. "Night Court," you greeted with a small smile.

Feyre was the first to say "Congratulations Y/N. And Lucien."

Lucien spoke this time. "Thank you, Feyre." He rested his hand on your belly.

"How far long are you?" Rhysand's voice reached your ears.

Looking in his direction, you answered, "23 weeks. Lucien thinks it's a girl, but I think it's a boy," you added. That made Rhys smile.

"I always took you for a boy mom." Amren's voice surprised you and couldn't help but smile at her words. "Congratulations to you two, the Mother knows you deserve it." She finished with a genuine smile.

Lucien looked at Azriel and Elain before directing his eyes to the ancient one "Yes we do. Thank you, Amren." Lucien paused for a second before turning in Helion's direction and continuing. “Let's not keep holding on to the meeting. Please go on, dad."

Helion proceeded with the meeting, but Azriel didn't listen to a word that was said. He couldn't tear his eyes from you and Lucien.

There was no doubt of the love you two shared, not when it was written in both of your eyes. He didn't miss Lucien caresing your belly, and pushing a strand of hair behind your ear, passing his thumb over your jaw and kissing your cheek after.

Or how you rested your right hand on top of his on your belly while your left passed through his long red hair before resting around his shoulders and your smile while doing it.

What bigger proof did he need of your love if not for the baby you were carrying? Lucien's baby, he kept telling himself. Not his. Lucien's.

Jealousy invaded his body, but there was nothing he could do. He made his decision ten years ago, and now he had to live with it.

Lost in his thoughts, he only realized the meeting was over when everyone started standing. Rhys and Helion were finishing talking, and when the doors opened one more time, Eris Vanserra walked in with a little ginger boy in his arms. He couldn't be more than five years old.

He looked exactly like Lucien, except for his eyes. Those were yours.

Azriel's heart sank, and it sank even more a few seconds later, when the little boy spotted you and Lucien. You already had a baby and you were about to have your second.

With a big smile appearing on his sweet face, the little boy almost shouted, "Mommy! Daddy!" The boy jumped from his uncle's arms and ran to you.

You bend down and gather the happy boy in your arms before standing again and passing a hand through his ginger curls and saying, "Hi baby." You peppered his face with kisses making him laugh even more "I thought you were having fun with your uncle." You said looking at your brother in law.

Your son pouted “Uncle Eris doesn't know how to play. He onlys wants to do the boring stuff mommy.”

Everyone in the room chuckled, Eris gasped with fake hurt “Excuse me?”

“Elijah.” Lucien chuckled and said to your son after joining your side “Don't be rude to your uncle.”

“But it’s the truth, daddy.” Elijah hid his face on your neck.

Eris approached the little family with a smile directed to his nephew. "Sorry. I tried to keep him entertained, but he just kept asking about you two."

Lucien noticed his older brother had paint and glitter on his white shirt and laughed at the thought of his son giving him a hard time before exclaiming, "It's alright, brother. We were about to leave anyway."

The little boy settled in your arms and rested his head against yours, Lucien started rubbing his back when the little boy caught the sight of his grandfather and asked before anyone could stop him "Grandpa, how was the meeting with the idiots from the Night Court?"

The room went quiet, and a few gasps escaped. At your son's words, you turned to look at Helion, now on mom's mood. "Helion! How many times do we have to tell you not to speak like that in front of him?"

The room erupted in laughter at your statement. The air became lighter, and Helion put his hands in surrender, promising you that it wouldn't happen again.

You gave him an incredulous look, saying that you didn't believe him. Your son wrapped his tiny arms around your neck and rested his head on your shoulder with a yawn leaving his lips.

You rubbed your son's back while speaking to him. "Cmon Elijah, let's leave before your grandpa comes up with a new bad word for you to learn."

“Bad grandpa” your son agreed with you while earning new chuckles from the Night Court.

Even though he was trying to hold his smile, Azriel failed, your son was too adorable.

You turned your gaze to the Inner Circle and gave them a smile. "It was good to see you all."

"You too, Y/N. I missed you." Cassian replied.

Your smile stretched before telling him, "I missed you too, Cass."

The nickname made his heart ache. Maybe there's still a chance for you to reconnect.

You turned to look behind you, meeting your husband's eyes "You're coming Lu?"

A pink blush made its way to Lucien's cheeks "Of course, my love" The Heir looked at his father "We'll see you at dinner, dad. Night Court." He said giving the Inner Circle a small nod before joining you and wrapping his arm around your waist and giving a kiss to your now sleeping son.

Amren spoke again “See I told you were a boy mom.” A smile never leaving her face.

“You're right. If this baby happens to be a boy as well, I'm gonna be in trouble.” You replied with a arm holding your son and while the other made it's way to your belly.

“No your not, you're gonna be great.” Nesta spoke, a genuine smile on her lips “We already can see you are.” She gestured to the little boy sleeping in your arms.

“Thank you, Nes.” You were grateful for her words.

On your way out, you met Azriel's eyes but you couldn't find the words so you simply gave him a nod with a small smile and Azriel returned the gesture.

When the door closed, Amren was the first to break the silence "Well, the Mother has a sense of humor."

Everyone turned to look at her but she focused her gaze on Azriel and Elain "You rejected them because you believed you belonged with one another only for your relationship to fail six months later. And now," she released a laugh "your former mates found their way towards each other. Fell in love, got married, had a son and have another baby on the way. Ironic isn't it?" She said with the feline smile returning to her lips.

It was Helion who spoke next, amusement all over his face "Indeed. I guess karma is a bitch." He sent a disapproving look one more time in the direction of the two people who almost cost him his family before exiting the room.

Amren's and Helion's words stung but Azriel knew it was nothing but the truth. He realized in that moment, that despite your life now and how things turned out, you would never forgive him.

He had lost you forever and now he had to live with regret for the rest of his life. After all, you were no longer his.

Author's note: Thank you for reading! I wasn't sure if someone wanted to be tag on this fic so I didn't do it. But I'm thinking in making a general taglist so if you wish to be added let me know. The next fic I'm gonna post will be the prequel of Second Chance. 😊 Also, the beautiful dividers belong to @tsunami-of-tears

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bwabys-scenarios · 10 months

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Imagine being the sweetheart of the Phantom Troupe. They all just ADORE you!!

You were recruited by Chrollo to be a physician after he sees you caring for the meteor city kids out of the kindness of your heart.

Most of your earnings go towards housing and clothing meteor kids. When you’re not on a mission you’re rolling up your sleeves and doing the work to better the community. Chrollo LOVES that.

You have such a caring heart. Feitan is your target for affection 9/10 because he’s such a grumpy puss.

First time you pat his head the others think you’re gonna die 😭🙏 Phinks is literally like “and there goes another cute girl”

but no he just pushes your hand away and runs off!!

the look of shock on everyone’s faces 😭😭🙏

For the first few months Feitan is absolutely SPRINTING away when he sees you. Makes you a lil sad, so he gets scolded by shalnarks and Phinks a lot :(

One day Phinks sits next to him after a job, watching you doctor up Uvogin with your cute Sanrio themed bandaids.

“Why the hell do you keep running away from her, she’s the only person that has even tried being nice to you, outside of the troupe.”

Feitan starts to run again but Phinks stops him.

“That’s problem. Too nice. Don’t understand.”

Feitan can be seen staring at you from behind corners and in shadows, and more often than not if you’re on a mission he’s close behind.

“Feitan, you don’t have to hide, come here so I can fix you up.”

He just stares at you from the doorway, suspicious but also hesitant, not because he’s scared of you but because… he hurt his chest and he KNOWS how your nen works.

Eventually he decides to enter, sitting in front of you as you check him over. Once you’ve assessed him, you pull up his shirt.

“Okay, this is gonna need a level two. Close your eyes if you need to!”

You lean forward and place a kiss on the gash, and it immediately starts to heal. You pull away and for the first time you’re able to really see his face, and he is BLUSHING!!

When he noticed you saw he is fucking GONE!!

Shalnark is your most frequent patient, always having injuries in… suspicious places. One day he walks in with a pretty bad cut on his lips.

“(Name)~ I need a kiss~”

You roll your eyes and place a finger to his lips, the cut slowly mending itself. “You’ll have to try harder than that, sweetheart. But…”

You place the finger that touched his lips on yours. “Good try.”

He swoons!!!

2K notes · View notes

angels-fantasy · 2 months

Note

Hi! I really liked the Katsukis memories one, so I can suggest you make like Bakugo a few years ago got out of a really toxic relationship and he couldn’t really trust anyone because his last girlfriend or boyfriend used him for his money and fame being the no.2 hero, until he met reader. So now he’s taking them to his old childhood hood to met his parents. Mitsuki also didn’t really trust anyone to be with his baby boy, but when she saw you walk through the door, I feel like she would make a connection and had really good vibes with reader. Thank for reading!🧡💚🖤

Perfect (Request)

Katsuki Bakugou x Reader

Details/Warnings: established relationship, mention of a toxic ex, meeting the parents

Word Count: 1.1k

thank you for your suggestion and your kind comment! this was pretty fun to write so i hope i did it justice. i liked this :)

When someone you love treats you horribly, it's something you never forget. It scars you, and no matter how hard you try to get over it, that pain and those bad memories are always going to be there.

It takes a lot of time to heal from these kinds of things, but it's possible. For Katsuki, it took three years. His last relationship was great at first. He was happy and in love, and he thought his partner was too until they revealed their true colors.

After a year of dating they made it clear that they were only with him because of his status as a pro hero and his money. This was heart breaking of course. It hurts to find out the person you loved never loved you. Katsuki was angry and hurt, so he ended things immediately and swore to himself that he'd never date anyone again. He avoided any type of romantic relationship for the next three years while he focused on himself, until he met you.

Meeting you was unexpected, like most relationships are. He was very closed off at first and hesitant to get to know you, but you were able to crack open his shell and find him waiting on the inside.

Before you started dating, you didn't know about his past relationship but you knew something must've happened for him to be so guarded. So you made sure to let him take the lead in everything. You didn't want him to feel pressured, so you would let him make all the first moves.

When he eventually asked you to be official you were extremely happy that he trusted you enough to try dating again, since a month prior he told you about his last relationship.

Now, six months later, he wanted you to meet his parents. But they were hesitant too.

"I don't know Katsuki. Are you sure they're not like the last one?" Mitsuki asked.

Katsuki was currently at his parent's house, asking them if he could bring you over this weekend because he wanted them to meet you.

He groaned, "Yes, I'm sure. I knew them for a year before we started dating, and they're really understanding about everything that happened before."

His dad, Masaru, spoke up, "We're just worried about you son. We don't want you to get hurt like last time."

Katsuki looked down, "I know, but just trust me, okay? They're a really great person and I think you'll like them."

His parents looked at each other, then Mitsuki said "Fine. Bring them over this weekend at 5:00 pm. I'll make dinner."

Katsuki smiled.

Fast forward to the weekend, it was now the day you were meeting his parents and to say you were nervous is an understatement. Your boyfriend has mentioned before that his mom was a lot like him, so you were afraid she'd criticize you right away. He did say his dad was much calmer, but you were still afraid.

"I'm scared Katsuki. What if they don't like me?" You asked as you two parked outside of his childhood home.

He put a hand on your head, "Relax babe, I already talked to them. I know they're gonna love ya, alright? And if they don't then they can fuck off-"

"Katsuki!"

"It's true. I know they're my parents but I'm with you, and if they can't respect that then I won't talk to them."

You took a deep breath and nodded, "Okay. Can you hold my hand while we walk in?"

He nodded and did exactly as you asked as you both walked up to the large doors of the house. He knocked loudly twice before opening the door, announcing his arrival.

"Hag, I'm home!" He yelled, "Hey old man." He said to a man with glasses and brown spiky hair that was sitting at the dinner table.

The man was about to speak up but was cut off by a woman yelling, "I told you to stop calling me hag, brat!" Then, a woman that looked just like Katsuki walked out of the kitchen.

"Oh-Hello there! I'm Mistuki." She said and shook your hand.

You smiled and gave her your name, "It's so nice to meet you. You have really beautiful skin."

She laughed loudly, "That's thanks to my quirk, glycerin. Keeps my skin moisturized. Now both of you come and sit down! I made dinner for everyone."

Katsuki continued holding your hand and walked you to the dining table next to the man who you were assuming was his father.

He smiled and held out a hand, "I'm Masaru, Katsuki's father. It's a pleasure to meet you. I hope you'll excuse my wife, she can be a bit, well-I'm sure you know." He said with a small laugh. You noticed he was much more soft spoken compared to his wife and son.

You continued to talk to him and Katsuki at the table until Mitsuki came and placed the dish on the table. You were able to tell right away that she had made katsu curry.

You each served yourselves, though Katsuki kept insisting he serve you.

"Stop it. I want to do it." You said pushing him lightly.

He kissed his teeth, "Just let me do it will ya?"

"No." You then bumped him with your hip and served yourself, quickly serving him as well, making him sigh.

As you two communicated in your own way, his parents smiled at your interaction. Mitsuki was a little hesitant to, but Masaru rubbed her shoulder almost to let her know he was okay.

During dinner you all talked about everyday things, mostly surrounding you and Katsuki's relationship.

"So, how did you guys meet?" Mitsuki asked.

"We actually met at the public library." You said, "It was in the romance section, coincidentally."

"Yeah and you were picking a shitty book." Katsuki spoke up.

"Hey it wasn't my fault! I didn't even know anything about it."

As dinner went on, his parents, especially his mother, realized that you really were different than his last partner. They could see the way you cared for him just by how you spoke to him and interacted with him. Even the little touches you gave him on his shoulder or arm here and there.

At the end of the night when you said your goodbyes, his parents made sure to see you both out.

Mitsuki hugged you tightly and whispered "Thanks for taking care of my boy." Pulling away, she said "Come back anytime, all right? Don't let this brat convince you I'm crazy."

Katsuki rolled his eyes while you giggled.

Once you both drove away, Masaru asked his wife "So? What do we think?"

She nodded, "I think they're perfect."

tag list for bakugou fics: @doumadono

#@angels-fantasy #fanfiction #fanfic #anime #bakugou katsuki #bakugou x reader #katsuki bakugo x reader #bakugou x you #bnha bakugou #my hero academia

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disillusioneddanny · 8 months

Text

Welcome to the Family DPXDC

And yes, he was thankful for that space, honestly, he needed it more than he could even explain. Every time he closed his eyes he saw his parents strapping him down to the operating table. To his sister finding him when she came back for spring break three months later and trying to rip Jack away from Danny’s broken body, only for her to be thrown back. They said that she had hit her head on in just the right spot on the corner of the table. That her death had been painless. Danny had waited, hoping to see his sister come back as a ghost but she never did.

The anger had welled up inside of him, though, enough for him to break out of his bindings and run to Sam’s house for help. From there it had been quick. The Fentons had no proof that Danny was a ghost, Jazz was dead in their lab and Danny had a large vivesection wound held together by pins and needles.

From there it had gone by fast. Bruce Wayne had heard his story and opened his doors to him, an offer that Danny was quick to accept considering his only other option was Vlad and that was a major no for him. Danny had gotten stitched up rather quickly and the Fentons had been taken to trial where they had both been found incompetent by the courts and were sent to some prison for the mentally insane in the midwest. Thank the Ancients it wasn’t Arkham.

But things were starting to settle now. Danny was healed up. They had finally held a funeral for Jazz. And he was set to start school at Gotham Academy with his new little brother, Damian. Things were finally starting to settle.

Things were starting to settle and Danny was finally able to really look at his new family and notice the strange things about them. Honestly, coming from a weird family himself, he was more able to spot the bullshit from others. The first he had noticed was Damian. Apparently he hadn’t ocme to live with the Waynes until he was ten and Bruce had discovered he had a biiological son he had never known about.

Damian was fourteen now and he wasn’t normal, if Danny was going to be honest. Danny knew that the teenager had at least four weapons on him at all times. He had thrown a knife at Danny’s head one of his first nights here when Danny had made a joke that the kid didn’t like. He also struggled to understand common cues and comments, but not in a neurodivergent way. In a way that he had genuinely grown up without ever hearing about those things and it had Danny curious.

The others were strange too. Tim seemed like he had never slept, like he barely operated at all. Duke always looked at Danny like he had seen a ghost and tended to keep his distance more than their other siblings did. Cass looked at him the same way some of Danny’s rogues did, like she was watching his every single move. Jason reeked of death every time Danny saw him. The souls that latched onto him showed that he had taken quite a few lives. And not only that, but everyone in this family smelled and felt like they had all died and come back. He had never met a family so liminal outside of Amity Park.

Even Dick, the most normal of the siblings was liminal. It was throwing Danny for a loop because no one else in Gotham seemed to feel this way. So what were they hiding? Was this why they wanted Danny to join their family? Because like called to like and they knew Danny was something different?

Or was Bruce telling the truth when he had said that he had seen a teenage boy lose everything in a day and decided he couldn’t not help out?

It had been two months now and if he was going to be really honest, Danny was starting to grow bored. No more ghost fights, no more running from the Fentons, hell Bruce had even decided that he was going to go after the GIW and the Anti-Ecto Acts because even though he didn’t know Danny was actually a ghost, he found the acts ghastly and problematic. Danny nearly hugged him when he had said so. But the more bored he got, the more curious he seemed to get as well, he needed to know what was going on with this family.

“It’s not like they would know if I decided to take a look around. I live here,” he murmured to himself, staring at the fire crackling within the fireplace, still chewing on his thumbnail. “All I’m doing is seeing what kind of fruit loop my new dad is. All billionaires hide something and Bruce is definitely hiding something,” he reasoned to himself.

The halfa shook his head, the curiosity was going to drive him absolutely insane if he didn’t go and snoop. He stood from where he laid curled up on the couch and trekked back up to his bedroom. A room that was literally through times the size of his old bedroom.

It was still hard to believe that this was his life now. He carefully locked his bedroom door and felt the familiar rings of light wash over him before he transformed into his ghost form. The sixteen year old smiled at the familiar feel of intangibility wash over him and he slowly sunk through the floor, staying invisible as he went through each room of the house that was not a bedroom, looking through each one carefully to see if anything jumped out at him.

Then he made it to Bruce’s office just as Bruce himself stepped out of a door hidden behind an old grandfather clock and that’s when Danny knew he had caught him. Of course this was too good to be true! Bruce was far too perfect to not have something hidden deep inside.

He flew through the wall and found himself in an elevator and frowned before continuing down, down, down until he found himself in a large cave underneath the cave.

“Holy shit Batman,” he whispered as he started to fly around the stalacites, taking in the Batcomputer, the weird prizes the different vigilantes had one in their countless rogue fights. His eyes widened as he found Tim typing furiously at the Batcomputer, bags deep under his eyes and Danny took a look at what he was working on and held back a gasp.

When Bruce had said he was going to get rid of the GIW and the Anti-Ecto Acts he hadn’t really thought too much of it. It was Bruce Wayne, the playboy extraordinare who cared about all social causes that came across his desk.

But to know that the Bats were investigating it? With the Justice League? Danny’s mind was blown. He watched as Tim fought through the firewalls that Danny, Tucker, and Technus had set up to keep Amity Park a secret from the rest of the world and glanced down at his new older brother before back up at the screen and let out a sigh.

He could at least make their job easier.

He flew into the computer and started to break through each of the firewalls that they had put in place one by one before Tucker and Technus zoomed in on him.

Tucker had become just liminal enough to learn how to go into technology. He gave Danny a disapproving look as Technus stared at all the hard work they had done be ruined by Danny.

“What are you doing in here?” Tucker demanded, his eyes bright green as he stared Danny down.

“Red Robin is trying to get rid of the acts,” Danny said with a small smile. “Let him learn everything he can. I trust the Bats.”

Tucker and Technus scowled.

“Fine, Ghost Boy. Now get out of our territory before you destroy it even more,” Technus said, glaring at Danny over his sunglasses. Danny just grinned and flew out of the computer once more to find Tim dialing a number on his cellphone furiously.

“Babs! I finally got in! I don’t know what happened but all of the firewalls fell and Jesus Christ it’s worse than I thought. The Fentons recorded their experiments on Danny,” he said and Danny shuddered as he looked at the scream, hearing his screams fall on deaf ears. He had Tucker hide all of the video tapes as soon as he could to make sure that no one would see proof that Danny was more than just a human. But if they were going to get rid of the Anti-Ecto Acts then they needed all the proof that they could get that ghosts were sentient creatures.

He flew out of the Batcave quickly and made it back to his room where he turned back into his human form. Now he needed to decide. Did he tell the Waynes that he knew their secret? Or did he leave it alone?

He pursed his lips and fell back onto his bed as he fell into thought about it. Once Tim got through all of the videos, he was going to know that Danny was different, that he wasn’t just a normal human boy. Especially when he would get to the part where they cut Danny’s arm off and it grew back just a few days later.

Right now the ball was in his court, though. He knew that the bats were going to know that he was different, but he didn’t know if they were going to say anything about it. He could play with this. He grinned to himself.

He could have some fun with this.

…

“Danny! Dinner’s ready!” Duke called through his door and Danny grinned and headed out, already having come up with a plan for how he’s going to fuck with the bats.

He wanted to see how far he could push them until they admitted that they knew his secret and and that they were the bats. He wondered how long his new family could hold out before giving in and saying something.

So with that, Danny opened the door and grinned at Duke, who he now realized was the day time hero signal and explained why he not only kept his distance but looked at Danny like he had a second head most of the time. Now that he thought about it, Duke probably could see his true form and wouldn’t that be fun to mess with.

While Phantom was technically tucked away in Danny’s core, he was visible for those who could see beyond the veil. Duke was someone who could see beyond that veil and if Danny focused just enough he could alter his ghost form without even being in that form.

“Hey, thanks for grabbing me,” Danny said, imagining Phantom with ecto dripping from his eye sockets, his fangs grew longer and longer and his eyes turned pitch black. Phantom was looking like he came straight from a nightmare from what Danny could see in his mind’s eye and he smiled as Duke cringed away from him slightly.

“Of course,” he stammered out nervously. “Are you doing okay?”

Danny grinned, perking up slightly. “Yeah, I’m doing great actually. I’m really excited for school tomorrow. Why do you ask?”

Duke just shook his head and shuddered lightly. “No reason.”

The two continued down to the dinner table and took their seats. Tim trudged in just a few minutes later and his eyes immediately fell onto Danny’s form. His eye twitched slightly as they raced up and down Danny’s body, taking in all of Danny’s limbs and noting that his facial features were all there.

“Are you okay, Tim?” Danny asked with a frown, his lips twisting up slightly.

Tim just stared at him warily and nodded once. “I am, are you? Doing okay, that is?” He asked, nerves apparent in his voice.

Danny just smiled and tilted his head to the side. “Yeah, as far as I can tell I’m okay. It’s funny, Duke was worried about my wellbeing too. It’s really nice, though. I wish I had someone asking if I was okay when my parents had removed my eyes during one of their sessions with me,” he said just as Alfred set a plate before him, the porcelain clattering against the table as he tried to recover from shock.

“You mean like, blindfolded you, right?” Dick asked hesitantly, looking up from his own plate of food and Danny just grinned and shook his head.

“Nope,” he said, popping the P. “I’m pretty sure my da-Jack used a melon baller to remove them, it was very painful and weird experience,” he said with a slight shudder. It was the frist time he had mentioned out loud some of the trauma he had experienced at the hands of the Fentons. And if he was being honest, it felt rather cathartic for him to actually talk about the torutre he had endured. Sure, judging from the horrified expressions of his new family members, it might not be hte most comfortable conversation but for him, it was nice to just say it, out loud.

His parents had tortured him. Had ripped him apart molecule by molecule and his body just forced him to regenerate, the electric ectoplasm that brought him back that fateful day in the portal continued to live inside of him, continued to bring him back from death over and over. It had made him realize that there’s a good chance that he was immortal. That his human half may never actually die.

And that was a terrifying thought.

Danny just happily continued eating his dinner, ignoring the horrified stares all around him. Oh yeah, this was going to be so much fun, he could feel it in his core.

….

It was a few nights later when Danny woke up to his stomach growling at like three in the morning. And of course, that mean he needed to go down to the kitchens and rifle through the refrigerator to find something to eat.

In all honesty, he had a major hankering for some fruit loops. Which led to him digging through the pantry that Alfred kept stocked up on all of Dick’s favorite cereals since he was the one who primarily ate them. He let his eyes glow in the dark as he searched, too lazy to turn on the lights and not particularly wanting to have the light ruin his post sleep glow. He dug around until finally find the box of sugary, fruity goodness and silently cheered to himself. Now he just needed to get some milk and a bowl and he would be a very happy ghost.

Danny allowed the box to float to the kitchen counter before he skipped towards the fridge and hummed. Did he want oatmilk, almond milk, whole milk, ancients there were so many options for milk.

He let out a hiss as the lights flickered on in the kitchen and slowly allowed his head to spin around on his neck to glare at whomever was evil enough to turn on the lights in the middle of the night. An ear piercing scream shook through the manor as Dick scrambled away from Danny and oh what a sight Danny was to see. His hair was bird’s nest on his head, his eyes were glowing bright green and he had twisted his head around his neck one hundred sixty degrees and let out an inhuman hiss.

Dick slammed his back against the wall as Danny allowed his eyes to turn blue once again and his head spun back around to normal just as Bruce and Tim came running into the room.

“What is it?” Danny asked innocently, cocking his head to the side, blinking his eyes owlishly at Dick. The poor vigilante was white as a sheet as he stared at Danny in horror. Bruce looked between his sons curiously.

“Three am cereal?” He asked, the corners of his eyes crinkling slightly as he smiled at Danny. “I think I may make myself a bowl as well. How about you, Dick? Tim?”

“I-I think I’m going to go home to Bludhaven,” Dick stammered out, unable to look at Danny.

“Oh, well I hope you get home safe. Text me when you get home so I know you made it safely,” Bruce said cluelessly as he walked over to start making his own bowl of cereal. Tim gave Danny a wary look before he shook his head.

“I’m heading back to bed,” Tim muttered and Danny smiled to himself as he poured himself a large bowl of cereal.

“How are you doing, Chum? Are you getting settled?” Bruce asked, looking Danny over for a moment. Danny nodded and took a bite.

“You know that I know that you know,” he said simply as he chewed his cereal.

“I do,” Bruce said simply. “It’s pretty entertaining to watch the others.”

Danny swallowed his bite of cereal and grinned. “Glad you think so because this is the most fun I’ve had since you adopted me.”

“It will be good training for the others,” Bruce said as he poured himself a bowl of–

“You have your own brand of cereal!?” Danny exclaimed, looking at the cereal called Batman Crunch.

Bruce smiled. “Unfortunately, I don’t get any of the royalties for it. But it’s cookies and cream flavored,” he said before looking at the milk that Danny had pulled out, and poured some into his bowl. “Oatmilk, good choice.”

“I like the flavor,” he said with a shrug.

“Just so you know, if you ever want to join the nightlife, you’re welcome to it. But from what I understand, you never wanted it in the first place,” he said and Danny nodded his head.

“Too much work. For now, I just want to focus on school. Maybe when I graduate high school I’ll join you guys. But for now, I just want to focus on recovery and graduation. I appreciate all the space you’re giving me,” Danny said softly, stirring his spoon around in his bowl. Bruce just smiled and leaned his arms against the counter as he took a bite of his cereal.

“Of course. And when you’re ready to talk about it, without trying to scare your siblings, we can talk about it,” he said.

“You’re not mad?” Danny asked, glancing up at the older man. “That I didn’t tell you about me being, being dead? Or that I was a hero or how bad the Fentons,” he stopped and shuddered slightly. He couldn’t say the words out loud. It was one thing to joke about them removing body parts, it was easy to call them sessions. But to say out loud how badly he had been tortured? He couldn’t do it.

“Of course I’m not mad, Honey, you went through a very rough and traumatic time. Take all the time you need and we’ll be here for you as you heal and recover. And if any of your brothers or sister give you a hard time, I’ll tell them I was in on it.”

“How’d you know about me?” Danny asked before he took a bite of his fruitloops.

“Phantom disappeared the same time Danny Fenton allegedly ran away. Not to mention just taking one look at Phantom you can see the resemblance.”

“Phantom has blue skin!” Danny argued.

“And the exact same facial structure, Phantom just has a more prominent lichtenburg scar that you also have, just not nearly as noticeable.”

Danny hummed. “Guess they don’t call you the world’s greatest detective for nothin’,” he muttered before he picked up his bowl and started to drink the milk.

Bruce just chuckled and patted Danny’s back once he finished. “Get some sleep, Kiddo,” he said softly. Danny gave him a salute, a milk mustache on his face as he floated up in the air and through the ceilings to get back to his room.

…

Danny was bored again. He found himself haunting the manor late in the evening. Most of the bats were prepping for their night out on patrol. They were all under the impression that Danny was upstairs doing homework. He soon turned invisible and made his way into the Batcave where he found his siblings gathered around the Batcomputer watching one of the videos of Danny being tortured.

“Danny’s not fully human,” Tim stressed. “I’ve watched his parents remove his limbs and they just grow back in a few hours. Like good as new, no scar or anything! He wasn’t kidding when he said they removed his eyes!” He exclaimed.

Jason let out a hum. “It’s possible that the Fentons did it to him,” he reasoned. “Like their experiments turned him into a meta that let him regenerate.”

“How does that explain the fact that he was able to twist his head a hundred and sixty degrees?” Dick asked, shuddering slightly. “Or the way his eyes glow Lazarus green?”

“Or the monster that’s constantly floating behind him,” Duke whispered, looking like he had seen absolute horrors. Danny held back a snort, he still hadn’t even let Duke see his full eldritch horror form. It had been child’s play so far.

“He died in those experiments,” Dick said softly. “You can see him flatlining multiple times. Being killed and brought back so many times probably fucked up his body a lot. It probably did a lot to him.”

Danny hummed, that was a good theory. Wrong but made sense where they were coming from.

Bruce walked forward in his Batman suit and looked at Danny’s siblings. “Regardless of what you think is wrong with Danny, he’s our family and maybe one day he will feel comfortable telling us what happened to him. And if he doesn’t, that’s fine too. But until then, give him space and quit trying to investigate him. We’re trying to get rid of the anti-ecto acts, not investigate Danny,” he said seriously.

Danny smiled to himself and flew back up to his bedroom.

…

Jason sucked in a breath when he saw Danny asleep on the couch. He didn’t know why he was nervous. Sure, there was something slightly unsettling about Danny but he wasn’t a bad guy. The kid was insanely sweet and funny. He handled his trauma the same way Jason did, with constant jokes about his vivisection the same way Jason joked about his death.

But between the stories from Dick, Tim, and, Duke and watching the videos of what the Fentons had done to his newest littler brother, something about Danny just unnerved him. But Bruce had asked him to wake Danny up so that he can come down for dinner. It was simple, he just had to wake him up. What was the worst that could happen?

He padded over to Danny’s sleeping form and alost immediately realized something majorly wrong with the image in front of him.

Danny wasn’t breathing.

Jason rushed forward, shouting out for help, help from anyone really. He knelt beside Danny’s prone form and pressed his fingers to the pulse point on Danny’s wrist and frowned when he didn’t feel anything. He cursed before moving to start doing chest compressions, desperate to get him to open his eyes and breathe.

Dick and Bruce skidded into the room and ran over just as Danny sucked in a deep breath and opened his eyes.

“What are you doing!? Ow!” Danny shouted, slapping Jason’s hands away from him. “I think you broke my fucking rib,” he whined, rubbing at his side.

“What happened?” Bruce asked, looking between them concerned.

“He wasn’t breathing! He didn’t have a pulse!” Jason spluttered out, pointing at Danny who was frowning and pulling up his shirt to see if he was bruising yet or not. Beside Bruce, Dick let out a squeak, taking in the vivisection scar that still marred Danny’s chest. For some reason, all of Danny’s wounds from getting his body parts removed had healed just fine but the scar from being cut open over and over again stayed with him forever.

Bruce had given him scar cream to see if it would help but Danny had told him it would do nothing to help him.

“Oh yeah, it’s gnarly,” Danny said offhandedly. “The joys of having mad scientists for parents,” he said and sucked his teeth before he dropped his tshirt. “It’ll heal in like thirty minutes. Thanks for trying to save me I guess, but don’t stress, my heart just does that.”

“I thought you were dead!” Jason shouted, running a hand through his hair, utterly distraught.

Danny laughed and stood up, stretching as he did, his back popping a few times with the stretch. “Because I am,” he said simply.

…

Damian watched as his brother walked down the hall, texting on his phone as if he didn’t have a care in the world. He was not even bothering to raise his head to watch where he was going as he walked and Damian smirked to himself.

The idiot teenager was about to run face first into the wall and it would serve him right to break his nose for not paying attention to his surroundings. His smirk turned into a look of dismay, though, as Daniel walked straight through the wall without ever looking up.

There was something strange going on with his newest big brother and Damian was going to get to the bottom of it. It was clear that his siblings were not unfounded in their theories that Daniel was something other.

…

Danny grinned as he walked in on his final victim. He had managed to scare each of his siblings so far with his shenanigans and now he was finally going to get Cass. He had been trying to think of ways to throw her off kilter for a while now, but he had finally come to the perfect idea.

His family were gathered in the family room preparing to watch a movie together. Cass was curled up on the couch beside her girlfriend, the two talking quietly to one another. No one had noticed Danny walk in yet, which was rather typical.

He was lighter on his feet than any bat could ever dream. Even in his human form he had a sense of weightlessness to him that could only be attributed to his ghost form. Something that Danny had thought was interesting and also insanely thankful for considering it made it so much easier for him to sneak around when he was still living with the Fentons.

Danny creeped up behind Cass and Steph, a wide smile slowly growing on his face as he leaned down. “Mind if I sit with you two?” he asked, taking joy in the way both girls jumped in surprise, the rest of the family reacting similarly before giving Cass a shocked look of their own.

She turned to stare wide eyed at Danny and silently nodded once, unable to say a word.

“Sweet,” he said before hopping over the back of the couch and settling into the seat beside his sister. He reached over and grabbed a handful of popcorn from Tim’s bowl and looked at the large screen. “What are we watching?”

…

Danny took his seat at the dining room table for dinner a few nights later and looked around at his siblings. Each one looked to be on edge, sending Danny worried, concerned looks every now and then. Danny had upped the hauntings in the manor, feeling more and more comfortable with changing to his ghost form and giving in to his ghostly behaviors. He had never really been able to do it in Amity, too much of a risk to haunt the house when his family hd weapons to destroy him at every corner.

But in Wayne Manor? He was free to roam the halls, to stare at dark shadows and just do what ghosts were meant to do. Haunt the manor. And the fact that his siblings would catch him every so often and get the life scared out of them was honestly just a nice bonus.

His core had never felt so content in his life. He was finally getting to give in to all of his ghostly behavior and now it was time to make it known to the others that he knew.

“You know,” Danny stated, taking a bite of his oatmeal. “I wasn’t expecting you all to be so chill about the whole dead thing. I thought you all would be more on edge with my weirdness. But considering you all are vigilantes it makes a lot more sense now why you were okay with a dead guy moving in.”

Tim choked on his coffee, drips splattered onto the table. “I’m sorry what?”he wheezed out.

Danny sat up and grinned. “What?” He asked before he took a sip of his chocolate milk. “You’re telling me that you watched all those tapes of my parents having their fun with me and never once realized I was dead? No living human being can endure the things I did and live to tell the tale. I’m dead.”

“But you have a heartbeat, you breathe,” Dick breathed out and Danny looked over at Jason.

“Do I, though?” He asked and Jason swallowed harshly as he remembered the way Danny’s chest didn’t move, how he felt no pulse no matter how hard he checked. “I thought a family of detectives would figure it out pretty quickly.”

Bright rings of light surrounded him for a moment and he showed his ghost form. “I’m Phantom,” he said with a sharp smile. He changed back to his human form and looked over at Bruce. “Bruce had me figured out before he even adopted me. I thought you all knew as well.”

“How did you know about us?” Duke asked.

Danny hummed. “Got bored, decided to explore the manor and imagine my surprise when I found the Batcave in the basement! From there it was easy to put together and I decided well, if I’m going to be living in a family of vigilantes there was no point in me hiding who I was. If anyone was going to accept the half dead kid, it would be you guys.”

“This family just keeps getting weirder and weirder,” Dick mumbled, massaging his temples.

Bruce just smiled. “Danny, did I ever tell you that you have an alien starfish for a brother? His name is Jarro.”

I don’t plan on continuing this. Feel free to add if you want 💚💚

#dpxdc #danny phantom #dp x dc #dc x dp #dp x dc crossover #dis writes #danny fenton #batman #dc x dp crossover #dis dreams #body horror cw

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dcxdpdabbles · 10 months

Text

Phantom's number 1 Fan. Part 2

Tim wakes a few days later, half submerged in liquid and hooked to various machines. He is in a tub shaped like a bed, obviously meant to sleep in. Around him is what he hopes is a hospital room with medical tools scattered about and soft blue paint that turns to the night sky the higher it goes on the wall.

On the ceiling are paintings of various constellations. It's rather beautiful.

Tim also notices he feels no pain. None. Not even the aches of his bones after years of abuse while fighting crime. He thinks that's a bit strange since the last thing he could clearly remember was barely escaping Ra's al Ghul, losing his spleen, and gaining more wounds from angry assassins on his way out.

He had been flying half-blind, blinking in and out of awareness. He thinks at one point, Cassie had attempted to call him, and he may have answered, but for the life of him, he couldn't remember what he told her.

He did remember what she said in response. She sounded so desperate as she begged over the S-Batplane speakers. "Please, Tim, you're not well. Let us help you. Just tell me where you are."

Too bad for her, since the S in S-Batplane stand for Secert because Tim had built that one on his own in Secert. There was no way she or any of the hero community could track him in it since they had no idea it existed until Tim had taken it and his supplies on his solo mission to save Bruce.

Tim will admit that he is happy they noticed he went missing- even if it was three months too late. Not that it mattered much. The rest of the Bats wanted nothing to do with him. The world only saw him as a young easy wallet as a shiny new CEO. And his friends were all dead or convinced he was insane by Dick.

Tim didn't have anyone to notice he was gone anymore. But Bruce needed him to push through the ache and get him home.

As the Robin who Bruce trained to put the mission first no matter the cost, the one that came after Jason's death so, Bruce stopped allowing himself to think of Robin as a son and more along the lines of a soldier; he quickly shut down the crying child that wailed for someone to believe him, to support him.

Sometimes it felt like Tim was still waiting by the door of Drake Manor, waiting for someone to come and care for him, to stay for him.

The door to his room opens, snapping Tim back to the present. He automatically stiffens, expecting more of the League of Assassins. He can't remember much, but he guessed he was captured by the fact he was sitting in a green glowing water.

He was not, however, expecting a Yeti to walk in, reading a clipboard.

The Yeti looks up, bearing its teeth at Tim when he notices him awake. It takes a moment to realize the action is supposed to be a smile. "Great One's Honored Guest, I am so glad you have awakened. I am FrostBite, your doctor for the remainder of your recovery."

Okay. Ra's has Yetis at his disposal.

He was the only person that Tim knew as the "Great One." Usually, his most loyal operatives too, which means he was deep within Ra's territory.

FrostBrite pauses for a response, but when Tim remains silent, he holds up his board. "It seems to me that most of your wounds have healed. The only problem is that your spleen could not be salvaged due to the damage."

Tim fights to keep the despair off his face. He figured that was the case, seeing as Ras's had it in a jar, but he had hoped.

"...I understand this may be a difficult adjustment. You will always have to be careful when being ill. Even a simple cold could be disastrous." Frostbite steps close, taping one giant claw on the tub's edge. "The Great One has ordered we keep consistent Ecoplasm Baths at the ready for the remainder of your natural life."

Fuck. The Yeti is saying Ra will never let him leave again. It's a threat disguised as a offer of help.

Tim glares down at his hands. They lay within Lazarus' water, gently healing his small scars. This must be some of the purest Lazarus he's ever seen. It must be Ra's own special blend.

The only reason he is wasting it on Tim is that Ra's wants an heir from him. Or for him to become the Heir. He doesn't know, which makes him feel worse but he does know what lust looks like.

It's one that Ra's has aimed at him for too long.

He may as well get this over with. Learn as much as he can. Plan an escape. The best way to do all that is to simply ask.

"When is the wedding?"

Frostbite freezes. "I beg your pardon? Whos wedding?"

"Th Great One and mine" because the madman would never allow a bastard to inherit his empire.

"You and the Great One....are paramours?" Frostbite sounds awe. Shoot his medic doesn't know anything. The Yeti is likely low ranking.

Tim looks away, and the giant white creature jerks into action. "I apologize for not treating the Great One's beloved properly. I shall have servants bring up a meal while you soak. And the finest robe we have! Sweets and messages....offers of gold?....humans always like gold."

He waits until the Yeti leaves, mumbles of giving him the royal treatment echoing in his wake. Tim sighs, sinking into the water. He knows he is being watched as that's what he would do, so for now he needs to stay put and heal.

He's never going to get Bruce back if he acts too rashly without knowing where he is and what else Ra has under his control. Yetis were no easy feat to beat on his own. He like to avoid....a vampire or something too.

Half an hour later, FrostBite returns with the promised meal and change of clothes. Smaller Yetis help him dress in threads of the finest silks. They feel like heaven on his sensitive skin. Tim feels soft and warm all over, pampered beyond belief.

It's been so long since he just had a moment to rest.

He asks for a walk which he is only permitted after Frostbites clears him. It's while he is wandering that he realizes he is in some winter castle. Everywhere he looks, there is ice, snow, and yetis.

He notices all the guards and makes mental maps of possible weak spots. He wonders why he's not freezing despite only being in a thin silk robe. A form of magic?

A few yetis- servants he can tell by their mannerisms- bow as he wanders about. He can't tell where he is based on the sun or the environment. It's....somehow different.

"That's him?" A young female voice asks. He turns his head slightly to catch the speaker in his provisional vision. It's one of the smaller Yetis....he assumes she's a child? Hard to tell when she still towers over him. "The Great One's future spouse?"

"Yes, I heard King Frostbite, himself, tell the Head Butler"

"He's weak," another Yeti says with disapproval. He sounds male but young as well. Not even a teenager. "He does not even have a core."

"He is a human." A much older voice replies. She sounds like Tim's age based on vocal cords. "Humans are not meant to have cores. Despite this he is a formidable fighter. He has to be to have attracted the Great One's eye."

"Maybe not. I heard humans enjoy being cared for like children. They even call partners things like Mommy and Daddy."

"Why?" The boy Yeti sounds horrified.

"Apparently it's seen as attractive"

"That's disgusting."

Tim turns a corner cutting off the conversation as the Yetis snap to attention. They bow low at the waist as he walks by.

He nods at them, which seems to startle a lot of them. Not that he's surprised. The AL Ghuls likely treated them like decorations and never fully acknowledged them.

Tim barely hears the young boy gasp. "He's beautiful."

"That's likely why the Great One is so bestowed."

Tim sighs walking back to his room with a escape plan half formed.

Elsewhere, the rumor mill in the Ghost Zone is running over time as news of King Phantom's human husband-to-be is spread far and wide. Leaders of the Ghost Zone quickly prepare for a ball that will likely be called to celebrate the union.

They have gifts gathered, each wanting to gain favor with the King. The Far Frozen gets overwhelming requests to visit the future Consort, but seeing as King Phantom had to return to the human world, thus leaving his fiancé in their care, they reject all. They do not want the boy to be overwhelmed or caught unawares if he is not tried in any form of politics.

It would not allow him to become a threat to the King's authority's pawn.

This led to even more rumors starting.

By the time they reached John Constine- the only human who has any form of contact with the Realms- the word is that King Phantom's human was currently carrying their child, wanting to marry before the baby was born, and that he was running from a group of humans known as "The Bats."

He was as beautiful as the King Phantom was powerful- which meant he was utterly breathtaking for a human- and that King Phantom was currently in the human world hunting down those who threaten his family.

Across the dimension plane, Danny is blissfully unaware of the misunderstanding as he is busy filling out college scholarship applications. He has only one more year before he graduates, but he would like to go somewhere away from Amity Park.

The Wayne Scholarship is a long and lengthy process, but it will be worth it. A full ride with board and meals? Yes, the housing will be in Gotham but it's a small price to pay.

He wonders if his number one fan has awakened. Frostbite would have contacted him if his guest had escaped the coma.

Tim Drake had been asleep for nearly a week, only kept healthy due to Danny bathing him in his Protective Core ectoplasm and the Yeti's multi-species medical knowledge. As it were, Tim appeared to only be taking a small nap, none of the adverse effects of long slumber appearing on his thin body, but Danny was getting worried.

At this point, he didn't even care how Tim knew his secret. He just wanted him to be alright.

A flash of green light causes Danny to spring away from his laptop, body falling into a natural fighter's stance only to blink at the giant gift wrap present laying on his bed. Cautiously he inspects the gift finding it from Princess Dora.

"May your love lead the Realms into a wonderous future, and may your union bear many children." He reads the small note she had attracted to her gift "What children?"

Pulling open the gift, he stares at two sets of King robes decorated with rubies shaped into snowflakes. More miniature robes and a few booties surround the pair, obviously meant as a family gift.

Tuck to the side of the box is a long and deadly-looking sword. It's pitch black, with a scull as a handle. Dora had tired a scroll to its blade, where she had written My armies are ready to yield to you. You need only to swing this sword, and they shall come to your aid. The Bats will not harm your treasure.

What in the world?

#dcxdpdabbles #dc x dp crossover #Phantom's number 1 fan #Tim unleased a love story onto the beings of enterity #Danny is super confused #Somewhere John is freaking out about a possible war #Tim does not remember stopping at Danny's

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nexusnyx · 1 year

Text

keep close | joel miller

Summary: It takes you six months to break. You thought you'd last longer. Tried convincing yourself that everything in your head was because he saved you, not because of real attraction. One night, Joel proves that to be wrong. a/n: I'm nothing if a byproduct of my environment. And my environment right now is a mind palace made only of Pedro's role... so here we go. Reblogs and comments are much appreciated. [WC: 3.7k] Warnings: Mostly fluff. A hint of indecent thoughts, so maybe reader discretion is advised? Protective!Joel, strangers to friends, unresolved sexual tension.

masterlist

What lived under your skin the most was Joel's duality.

Registering the range of what he was proved to be a difficult task from the very beginning.

Here he was, the man who saved you. The man who somehow, despite the gritty and cruel ways of existence, managed to keep a kind bone in his body. Kind enough to step in when you were in danger, even if he didn't need to. Life-threatening danger—most people would look away these days. But not him. Not Joel.

Here he was, the man who was kind enough to look you in the eye when he saw you crunched down in a corner, sweating profusely due to the wounds and most likely looking like a rabid or wild animal, and still tried putting some calmness to his voice before asking: "Can you walk? I heard you. 'm gonna help, ok?"

That man. The same one who beat the bastards who were keeping you to a pulp. That man, currently, slept only a couple of feet away from you, with his face half-tucked inside his scarf and jacket, and for the first time in your life, you saw Joel... smiling.

It was the first time you witnessed it.

The book on his lap told you he fell asleep mid-chapter. While the sprain and cuts were minor compared to what they could be, Joel fussed as if they were broken bones. The most worrisome part was your ribs, but those, he cut out fabric from an old t-shirt of his ("they're all old now though, aren't they?") and wrapped your body as firmly as he could.

It made you smile, even if only at your own reflection in the bathroom mirror.

How could this be the same man?

Sometimes, you closed your eyes and saw him like that.

Mid-fight, rage and sadness oozing out of him as if they were radiation, his fists flying so fast it seems impossible to catch up to the act.

When violence is needed, Joel breaks the calm surface and introduces outsiders to the storm within.

It goes calm, storm, drizzle.

He'd never change that.

Now that it was too late, Joel would always be this sea of turbulent waters, often hidden by its vastness.

Joel "I will punch you in the throat" Miller asked you very few questions at first.

Dinner on the day he rescued had been awkward, to say the least.

Not that it mattered in the long run.

What was awkwardness in the face of not looking over your shoulder, and what was feeling left out and intrusive in comparison to the jittery stress of always checking if the gun is loaded?

Nothing.

Having two people close by who seemed alright in the head — a rarity, if there ever was one —trumped it all.

Joel and Ellie were headed West. So were you.

It was logical, only. Or it was, at first.

"I could definitely use an extra pair of hands with this one," Joel admitted. It was the first night walking together after one week stationed at the same place to wait for yours and Ellie's healing—a night of dubious whiskey and traded information.

"She doesn't seem that difficult," you answered, eyeing Ellie's sleeping frame on the other side of camp.

He scoffs. "She isn't." His lips pursed in a thin line. "I just—" his shoulders shrugged. "Think she might get bored with just me."

For someone who had barely said a word for a whole week, it was more than you first perceived him to be. "The world's quite a boring place now," you whispered. Then, shrugged your shoulders just the same. I don't care. "I like it."

"Do you?"

"I do." You remembered how noisy things were. So many nowadays lacked the age for that, but not you. "'s nice hearing nature. And that one," you tilted your chin towards Ellie, "should be happy to be alive."

The truth of that hung in the air.

That first conversation sealed it for you—Joel making an effort to ask things and answer your inquiries surprised you.

"Think we can keep her alive 'till we get to the Fireflies base?" Joel asked you.

You thought it over for a second, and came to a conclusion. "We can definitely try." A purpose other than escaping — all you've ever known — and surviving sounded good to you. "And if that's your mission, probabilities of success rise with another member on the team."

That night, all you got out of him was one eyebrow raised. "Is that so?" It sounded teasing, but he looked so serious saying it. "Well. 'm gonna hope you're as good with that rifle as you are with your probabilities."

To his delight, he quickly discovered you were.

Faster, even.

Joel might have risen an eyebrow at first, but your sentence proved to be true in the next couple of months. There's a team there. The two of you do your best at trying, even through hardships.

When there are no Fireflies, you make Ellie look away from the bloodshed. With no clear plan or direction in sight, you're a helpful extra set of eyes when Joel decides it's best to look for Tommy.

In all of the three months where you, Joel, and Ellie head towards Wyoming, a routine is established, and the days looking after each other make it hard to pretend there's any distance between your little group.

Ellie is fond of your Encyclopedia of Unbelievable Facts.

She's a quick learner, an agile fighter with a wicked sense of humor, and enough cursing to rival you in the games of "unladylike shit and sounding like pirates, honestly," as stated by Joel.

He hid a lot of his amusement in scoffs and sighs, you thought.

Joel is fond of doing perimeter checks, sleeping on his side, and 'peace and quiet'.

It takes you a bit to understand that it's easier to pull conversation from him when Ellie is safe and sound. Tucked in her sleeping bag, showering in the river streams (and swearing incessantly under her breath), eating her food.

Without Ellie around, Joel opens up, bit by bit.

He talks about Tess.

About how close he and Tommy always were.

"I bailed him out of jail, y'know? That night of..." he doesn't say it.

Most of us never do. "Did you?"

He chuckles drily. "I did." He shakes his head, sips his water. "Stupid fucker."

"More like lucky fucker." When Joel turns his head to you with furrowed eyebrows, you elaborate. "If you hadn't gone, no more Tommy."

Joel takes a second before nodding. "Yeah."

"Were you always bailing him out of trouble?"

His face softened for a second. Before him, you embraced the darkness as you did the silence, but now, you wished for better lighting. "Often. Once, he and I were at our dad's house on a winter hunting trip. He hated those at first, but before..."

You started living for the stories.

Joel's presence became warm when he shared.

Vivid, and so fucking tempting.

It was all soft whispers back and forth, until the day he dropped her name.

"Sarah."

You knew the second you heard it—an open wound starts smelling the longer it stays open, and this one carried literal weight to it.

A whiff in the wind, and mourning was all over the air.

Joel left, and in the morning, nothing more is said.

Colorado changes everything.

It gives you the smile.

It comes at a cost, like everything else.

Since there's been no Tommy, you advise and convince Joel to check the Fireflies base here, only to find out they're relocated to Salt Lake City. When you three are coming out of the building with the fresh news hot on your laps, a group tries to ambush and kidnap you three.

As it does in this world without order, hell breaks lose.

Other than hell, a lot more breaks—protocol, jaws, ideas, trust.

Theirs thankfully.

You, Joel, and Ellie make it out alive, but not good.

You find a safehouse in a mountain cabin.

"Friend of Tommy's used to live here. Thank fuck it's still here," said Joel.

"Thank fuck indeed 'cause I don't know how much longer I can—oh fuck, fuck, fuck, Joel."

"Hey, hey, take it easy, slow down." Joel is just if not more fucked up than you from the fight, but he's still the one holding you up. He whistles—a call for Ellie. "Help with her other side, we can finish lighting up the place afterward. She needs to lie down."

Ellie hooks her frame underneath your left side, and you thank her with your weak and sweaty smile. "And your sure just lying down and resting will heal her rib?"

"It just cracked. Bones heal, El."

"I'm just checking." Ellie always checks. "You might need some penicillin, too. That knife looked ugly."

"I'll get it once we're all cleaned up. I'll go on a run," says Joel.

You're hurt too, you bastard.

"I'm the only one not limping here, can't I go?" asks Ellie.

"No," you and Joel say in unison. "I'll go tomorrow. I'm bruised, but nothing's infected. I think I saw a warehouse down there."

Ellie sighs next to your ear. Then, she mumbles to you right before you're lied down on the bed. "Bet this will be Pittsburg two."

Pittsburg.

The fight. Joel deciding to save you despite your brother almost ruining Ellie's life.

Joel's frame sleeping next to your cot.

"You shouldn't have run off like that."

Not a single request for your apologies, or a comment on the shitshow that happened before you just 'ran off'.

Joel, the same man who saved you from a group of lunatics by bashing one of their member's head against the nearest tree, huffed and puffed before saying, "you saved Ellie's life by shooting your brother. and... i'm sorry about what came after that."

An apology from him.

How was that fair?

"You don't need—to thank me."

"I do."

"...You just saved my life, Joel."

"Well, you saved Ellie's, so consider us even."

That was then.

That was before deciding you were a team. Before heading West, before finding out about Salt Lake, before the attack.

Joel probably needed to rest himself.

Except—

There he is.

The first thing you think upon waking up in the candle-lit room.

Joel slept next to you, almost as if keeping guard.

It stirs the strings in your chest.

It's one thing to be observed by him after he saved you from those three men because you're bruised and traumatized by the whole thing.

It's whole other to know Joel is just as bruised.

Six months have passed since then.

A lot has happened. More than you could compute, sometimes, but less than your heart desired.

All the struggles, the Infected, the long days of walking, and the hard nights of worrying have molded this new thing into its own ecosystem.

This Joel sleeping on an old mattress right next to you lets Ellie take watch because he trusts her abilities and her notion of danger. He knows if you two prefer your 'apocalypse grub' — an Ellie trademark term — all mixed together or separated, if you can be trusted with the bourbon bottle (no), and that your taste in music is "atrocious but expected" (his words, clearly).

This Joel knew you kept your distance for a reason.

He'd seen it in you, months ago.

And yet, there he was.

With the book — your book — in his lap, sitting with his back to the wall and his legs already tucked inside the raggedy blankets you found in one of the cabinets.

Joel's extensive list of injuries had you waking up in a cold sweat, but the same as you, he seemed to recover fast.

In two days, he's wincing less to get up, and comments on his wishes to go look for pharmaceuticals.

That's the night you wake up to him sleeping—both of you could do it, but he insisted on taking turns.

When your eyes open, first, you see the book.

Then, you notice he moved the mattress closer to yours.

They're touching.

The raggedy blankets make them look like a single bed, and the thought feels foreign.

Next, you notice...

Joel is right there.

Sure, he's a few inches away, but... you could touch his legs if you extended your arm. All it would take is a little bit of wiggling to make a pillow out of his thighs, and you know how much more comfortable than what you have underneath you.

His smile is the last thing you see.

Not because you skipped his face—on the contrary, Joel's face is the first thing you see in the morning and the last you see at night.

Maybe that's why.

He never had this.

A gentle, real smile.

You hardly blame him. There are no reasons to smile nowadays, not for long. Not without sadness poisoning the eyes, or without the grin turning into a grimace.

Joel is smiling.

His dream must be good, because his features all softened somehow.

Good gods, he's handsome.

That's why you look so little at his face. The real reason.

Staring at Joel too much can cause you to think of nothing else, and in month one you learned the lesson of eyes wide open or head blown open wide.

Mistakes meant death.

Joel's eyes crinkled as he lifted one of his mouth's corners in the closest thing that could come off as a 'smile', and that meant distraction, which meant an eventual mistake, and so on.

When your gaze searches for the lines left by his crinkles, Joel's eyes are on you.

As serene as the quietude outside, Joel stares down, and in a contrast to the weather howling cold winds outsides, your body says it is morning, and it rises.

The longer he stares, the more it rises.

Your blood pumps harder under his gaze.

Joel knows that. He has to.

Silence with fixed gazes turns the air into a thick, palpable fog.

Why is he staring? It's probably the busted eyebrow. Busted lip. Joel never stares at you, never looks too long, too hard, never looks enough—

"I can almost hear you thinkin'," Joel's voice is a whisper, but it startles you nonetheless. Not in fear.

Once, somewhere, you read something you never forgot. The body, it always betrays itself. It blushes. It trembles.

It was true.

The shiver is involuntary.

Your mother used to say the sound of sirens meant trouble and ever since, you always heard sirens in your head as you panicked. "Was observin' your hair," laugh, look away, know your place. "It's gettin' whiter."

It gets a chuckle. A tight-lipped smile. "I'm gettin' older."

"So you say." Constantly.

The first reminder of why he kept his distance, probably. Of why he had no interest in you. Too young.

"Doesn't it look like it?"

You shrug, hugging the makeshift pillow tighter under your head. "'m not so sure how old people are supposed to look." Definitely not this good, right? This broad. Soft. Strong "Haven't been around many."

Joel points at himself. "Right here."

"You're not old."

His lip twitches. "No?"

"No."

"I'm over my forties."

"That's not old." You don't know why you're arguing. You never argue.

Joel closes the book, then hums. "I remember the world before it turned to ruins and vines."

Maybe it's because he's so damn close. Your fingers itched to touch him countless times before, but usually, there are more counterarguments in your head as to why you shouldn't. "So do I."

The smile returns to his face, but it's the awake and lucid kind—a little sadistic. Sad. "Let me rectify it—I lived in it."

"So did I." Albeit, not much. "Less than you, though." A decade or so more. Almost two.

"Right." Joel takes a deep breath, and the movement quiets you down.

Sometimes, you wished you had just a few years more. Five, or six would suffice. Would he look at you, then?

As the silence goes on, your mind starts with at least three different scenarios where Joel met you under different circumstances.

"Can't sleep anymore?"

There's no shiver this time, but you look up at him again, desperate to see some more of his sleepy eyes and that damned smile.

"Don't know," you whisper.

If he smiles again, you'll count the night as a win. Tuck his happiness somewhere out in the front of your mind to see if it occupies space. If it makes you think less of what he used to be like as a lover.

The tainted thoughts always make you avert your eyes, but this time, you have the benefit of only candle lights, so you let the embarrassment burn you as you keep staring.

Joel is looking at your face the same way. Heavy eyelids, gaze searching.

"Does it hurt anywhere?"

The question makes your brain swim in the lingering pain, but for other reasons.

Every scenario still opened in your mind leads to the same corridor—he placed his big hands on your neck right now to feel your temperature and caressed somewhere in your body to put you to sleep.

Somewhere he could touch the skin.

Through foggy vision you see Joel starting to frown, so you're quick to answer before he worries.

"'m just uncomfortable." True enough. "Anxious."

He nods. "Makes sense." He exhales slowly, placing the book on the floor next to the mattresses. "It'll take a while to calm down from it. It... they came out of nowhere." You nod. He clasps his hands together on his lap. "It could've been a lot worse."

Your group had a rule. "No what ifs about the past."

Joel made your heart jumpstart all over again by almost doing it—he almost smiled. "Right. Sorry."

"We're both in one piece."

"We are." He looked down at you and then, in a gesture that your entire body freezing on the spot, one of Joel's hands leaves his lap, and makes its way to you. It places on top of your head. In administrated, slow moves, it starts petting your hair. Then, Joel speaks. As if you can listen. "None of us needs penicillin..."

His words seem to trail off.

You need a second longer to relax under his touch. When you do, the tension melts so visibly you might as well be snow under the sun.

This time, the silence is thick.

Liquid.

When his hand moves lower, it ends up on your back, rubbing between the shoulder blades, and clearing the line of sight for his eyes again.

That's when he must see it.

The second he started to touch you, your blood become fuel. You could feel it burning hot inside your veins, moving faster than it ever did with you two alone in a room. The only times it's beaten like this before you were either in life-threatening danger, or muffling your sounds behind your hand as your other did quick work between your legs.

Joel sees it.

Even if the illumination comes only from the candles, he has to see it.

The way your lips parted for him.

There's no way your eyes aren't saying as much as the temperature your body is exuding.

Joel keeps on rubbing circles for a few more seconds, but eventually, he whispers. "What?"

It makes you want to cry.

If you answer, he'll probably do the thing. He'll turn you down gently, politely.

You shake your head, swallowing a lump in your throat. "Nothing." Your eyes sting. I want you so badly it makes me a bit crazy sometimes. Instead of that, you settle for whispering. "How d'you feel?"

It takes him a minute to answer. His eyes keep shifting between where his hand is rubbing and your face. "Good. Hurts less. Unfortunately, that means thinking more."

"Dangerous."

"You have no idea," he chuckles.

This time, the silence lasts. You keep on staring, while Joel is happy to continue making your back and hair feel a tingling warmth they never saw before.

"Is this ok?" he asks eventually.

Without noticing, your eyes had closed.

Always a man of few words. "Of course."

He nods to you. "'kay."

Stay here. Don't go anywhere.

Watch out for her.

Keep close.

Those and okay. The words you most heard over these past months.

When your eyes open again, Joel's hand is traveling back to your hair and this time, the silence between you two becomes a cord.

Tension.

His fingers do careful work once they find your strands—goosebumps rise all over your skin and for the first time, you're thankful for wearing long sleeves even to bed.

You know there are words hanging in the air, begging to be said, but...

Insecurity pulls you back.

Even if your eyes keep locked on his for a small amount of forever, you swallow down your wants and needs in fear of being blinded by your own attraction and ending up projecting yours on him.

All Joel does is stare back.

Maybe if you weren't inexperienced. Maybe if you had any previous knowledge of what intimacy and relationships had been like, but this world was not the same as before and things were... harder.

So you burned in silence.

Eventually, you burned for him in the dark of your sub-conscience.

With the ghost of Joel's hand still on your nape, caressing on top of your hair, you dive into a deep slumber, and it's in dreams that everything cracks.

You're not even present in mind to witness his world shift.

Joel, in silence, watched you going under. Watched those eyes staring up at him with so much said, so much written in between your lines. He watched with his heart pounding in his chest loud enough for him to hear.

When you sleep, he observes with reverence.

Trying to push down the feelings curling up inside him.

That's when he hears it.

Spoken through your glued lips at first, then louder, more confidently. Joel's heard your sleeping mumbles before, but this one is the one that breaks him.

"Joel..." soft. Breathless. Dangerously low. And then, "Joel."

That's when Joel realizes it—late at night, alone in the silence.

It changes something in him.

📝 PART TWO →

#usernexusnyx #joel miller #joel miller imagine #joel miller fic #joel miller fanfic #joel miller drabble #joel miller one shot #joel miller fanfiction #joel miller fluff #joel miller x you #joel miller x oc #joel miller x y/n #joel miller x reader #joel miller self insert #joel miller x f!reader #joel miller x female character #joel miller angst #joel miller smut

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lovelyladyabsinthewrites · 1 month

Note

Can I request ACOTAR poly bats x mate reader? Who got killed if you don't write that the reader just got injured badly? Thank you!

Injury HC (ft. poly!mates Bat Boys)

While I love me some heavy angst, I just couldn't bring myself to kill off mate reader even if its just for a hc 😭😅

Warnings: lots of mentions of blood, wounded/dying!reader, polyamorous mates, injuries, healing, angst and fluff, ft. mor, ft. amren, ft. madja, ft. wraiths

woof where to begin

it would be damn near impossible for any of them to think rationally at the sight of blood coming from you, not their beloved who should only be full of smiles and laughter

bat boys become overbearing if you even get a papercut

But this. . . this was something else entirely.

So much blood that they feel sick from the rusty smell of it that permeated the air.

You looked so small and broken; Rhys has already come up with a thousand ways to kill whoever did this to you. You were their beautiful, proud, cunning mate.

The first one to make a move toward your body would be Rhysand. Always rational under pressure as Azriel and Cassian look around in case there was an ambush by the enemy. He feels sick to his stomach the entire time he's checking your vitals. When his fingers make contact with your blood soaked head, the sticky substance felt white hot. Rhysand could wash his hands millions of times and still feel that searing sting of your blood on his skin.

When they finally get you safely to Madja, you do manage to regain some consciousness, enough to reach out and grab Azriel's hand as everyone was leaving the operating room. Its difficult to move your lips to speak but you manage to plead for Azriel to stay. His shadows always soothed you.

There's no rest for Rhysand or Cassian unfortunately.

Despite Mor and Amren's best efforts, they can't drag your other two mates away from the door.

Rhysand being constantly updated by Azriel through his thoughts and shadows

Cassian tried not to let dark possibilities into his head. They banged against the door of his mind, loud and clear. If you died. . .

"She won't die." Rhysand would tell him sharply. He couldn't lose hope. But the steady smell of your blood that refused to lessen worried Rhysand greatly.

For Azriel, he was forced to stand there at your side as Madja did her best to put you back together. He refused to look away. There was absolutely nothing he could do to help.

He furiously clenches and unclenches his hands. Angry with himself for not being enough to protect you.

In the wee hours of the morning, Mor finds Rhysand and Cassian slumped together asleep. She put a blanket around them and takes a seat to join them in awaiting news. Amren soon follows suit once she has risen from bed by worry.

Finally, Azriel emerges into the waiting room.

Cass and Rhys leap from their seats

You're alive, although incredibly weak.

Madja had to bind and fix your bones while also trying to stop your bleeding. The most important thing was that you would live with some major scarring.

For the next several months, you acquired three overbearing nurses.

Not that you were complaining.

They only allowed Madja to tend to you and that was just during your checkups. Even the Wraiths' cooking was monitored by one of the bat boys.

Azriel and Rhysand had the tenderest hands when they changed your bandages or moved you around so you wouldn't get bed sores.

When you were well enough, Cassian would carry you to the outside garden so you could enjoy the warmth of the sun personally. You'd sit on his lap with your head resting on his chest. You liked listening to him talk as your ear was pressed close to his heart.

You had to tell them to shut up a few times because of how often they would apologize to you about letting you get hurt. It wasn't their fault, you'd argue to deaf ears. This was actually motivation for you. To remedy this and prevent getting hurt this badly ever again, you'd have to train more. Get stronger so your mates wouldn't blame themselves for you getting hurt in their absence.

Rhysand may be the only one who doesn't coddle you during any kind of physical therapy. He's one for tough love. Cassian too. Poor Az is utterly helpless.

Oh, you're out of breath? Let me carry you, sweetling. Rhys and Cass being too difficult? I'll give them a talking to.

Once fully healed thanks to your bat boys, you feel stronger and better than ever.

#reader insert #reader insert fanfiction #acotar fanfic #rhys acotar #rhysand acotar #acotar #acotar series #a court of thorns and roses #acotar fandom #bat boys #azriel acotar #azriel x reader #cassian x reader #acotar cassian #rhysand fanfiction #rhysand x reader #a court of thorns and roses x reader #a court of thorns and roses fanfic #a court of thorns and roses fanfiction

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sunnytarg · 2 years

Note

Aegon discovering he not only has a breeding kink but also genuinely enjoys fatherhood???

Him and reader will probably out do King Jaehaerys and Queen Alysanne with how many kids they have.

He’s probably a better father to his children then Jaehaerys was because whenever his children act up he’s probably causing havoc with them or encouraging it.

Duty becomes something else entirely when after his wedding he fucks his wife and watches his seed drip slowly out of her. He doesn’t know what comes over him when he brings his fingers down to his wife’s cunt and pushing in all of the cum that had dropped out. He certainly is not doing that just so she has an heir.

He still fucks her several more time that night and makes sure to fall asleep with his cock in her to keep his seed inside of her.

After having his cock in her nonstop for several months after their wedding, it’s no surprise when his wife starts to grow round with his child almost immediately. The sight of her large belly and fuller tits that begin to lactate soon enough has Aegon harder than usual. Instead of fucking his wife once a day or every other day he is now buried deep in her almost all the time.

He loves to whisper how he was the one who put the babe in her. He’s the one she spread her legs for and let him seed and how she’ll do it again soon after their first child is born.

When their first child is born, less than one year after the wedding he doesn’t think he will care much about it. He thinks he’ll leave the raising of his child to his wife and perhaps his mother but when he walks into the room after his wife has given birth and he’s handed his son. Things change for Aegon.

He always has his infant in his arms. Whether it’s when his mother or grandsire demand to talk to him (he learns quickly they tend not to yell when his infant son is asleep in his arms) or just sitting in his shared chambers with his wife.

He adores his son so much and surprising Ioves being a father more than he ever thought he could. So when the maesters tell him his wife is healed after only a few moons after giving him a child, he’s climbing back on top of her to give her another baby.

Aegon soon develops a schedule that everyone in the castle is aware of by the time he and his wife have their third child three years after being wed. If Aegon is not holding or playing with one of his children, he is most likely balls deep in his wife.

Everyone in the castle learns pretty quickly that when the youngest has grown past their third moon, Aegon’s wife will soon be pregnant again.

#house of the dragon #hotd #house of the dragon smut #hotd smut #aegon ii targaryen #aegon ii targaryen smut #aegon ii x reader #aegon ii x oc #aegon the elder #tw: breeding

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ludwigplayingthetrombone · 1 year

Text

Had to split the last chapter into 2 separate ones bc i got a bit overzealous with this one... so here’s chapter 3! may be a longer bit before 4′s ready, but Enjoy! [tw: blood, mentions of suicidal thoughts/ death/ survivors guilt]

Ch1 Ch2

Tsunade: Enter. Kks: Mornin’. Tsunade: Kakashi. I got your message. So, Gai made it out of the coma, huh. I’ll go see how his condition is when I’m done here. Kks: I’m sure he’ll love that, but that’s not why I’m here. Tsunade: Are you looking for work? I can assign you-. Kks: More of a discussion. About the hokage thing.

Tsunade: Are you finallt giving me an answer? Kks: Yup. I’m saying no. I’m not interested. However, if there is truly no one else, I have a compromise if you’re interested.

Tsunade:It’d better be a good deal, brat. The council won’t be happy with this. You were about to accept months ago. Why say no now? Kks: Alot’s changed since then.

Gai: Papa

[gai sighs] [window sliding]

Kks: Yo. Gai: Rival!! Happy to see you! Kks: I see you’ve had visitors

Gai: Yes! I am so lucky and moved! Especially from our students! Kks: How are you feeling? Gai: Sore. Stiff. But much better than this morning. [kks hums] Kks: Sorry I took so long. Got caught up. Gai: Nonsense! I was honored to wake up to see both of your beautiful eyes first thing. You look so youthful! You left in such a hurry, you left your shoes. Kks: Yeah, had a soggy walk to my apartment. Can’t return those slippers now. Gai: How are /you/ feeling?

Gai: You seemed so overwhelmed and I couldn’t move. I feel like i’ve missed so much. Kks: I’m ok now. Just needed some air. Plus, sorted some things I’d been neglecting. I knew you’d be flooded with visitors. So, I stayed out of the way. Gai: Pretty cool response per usual. Kks: I think you’re pretty cool

Kks: How long are you stuck here? Did they say? Gai: A few weeks. Most of it depends on the physical therapy progress. My chakra network is fried. It’ll be slow to heal if at all. They’ve never treated my condition before, so the doctors are not sure what’ll happen

Kks: Did Tenten tell you about her plans? Kankuro even offered his experience building a prosthetic. Gai: Yes. She was very excited. Kks: /You/ don’t seem as enthused. What’s bugging you? you’re usually delighted by your team’s passion or whatever. Gai: I am truly touched because I know she’ll give it her all, but...

Gai: It won’t make a difference. Kks: What did the doctor say? Gai: Even if I can stand or walk, I’ll have lasting damage and pain. I’ll need a wheelchair the rest of my life. My time as an active duty shinobi is done.

Kks: You’ll get through this. Gai: What am I going to do, ‘Kashi? Kks: You’re stubborn enough. I’m sure you’ll find a way to prove them wrong. Like walking on your hands or something. You’ll be a menace in a wheelchair in no- Gai: I do not want you or my students burdened by my injury

Kks: That’s what you’re worried about? You think mourning you would have been any easier on anyone? You’re more to them than just a teacher. If you could have Dai back right now, wouldn’t you want that? Gai: Of course I would. Kks: Then see it from their perspectives. Don’t just lie down and accept this is how your life ends. That’s not how Dai raised you.

Kks: This is terrifying to deal with, Gai, It’s ok to feel overwhelmed. But please don’t give up. I won’t let you. Gai: I was prepared to die Kks: ...I’ve understood wanting to be dead for a long time. I get it. Gai: I do not regretn my decision at all. Regardless, I’ve hurt you the most. I know you’re angry.

Kks: I won’t lie to you. I am angry. Extremely. But I’ve wasted so much time pushing you away already. I don’t want to waste anymore time we have left. The only consistent thing in my life has always been you. I’ve said horrible things to you, and you never abandoned me. I think all the time about how I would have turned out if you didn’t keep me human. Self sacrifice seems to be something we have in common. Neither of us were meant to be without the other apparently... We’ve both been brought back from death. So maybe it’s...

Baby gai: You’re my eternal rival... My man of- Kks: Destiny

Kks: Strongesttaijutsu master who ever lived. My eternal rival. My man of destiny. I’m so happy you’re alive

[gai crying]

[Gai sobbing/crying]

#kakagai #gaikaka #Kakashi Hatake #Maito Gai #might guy #naruto #everyone p much lmao #my art #//blood #//mentions of suicidal thoughts

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loafgeto · 6 months

Text

A BROTHEL…! BUT WITH MEN?

fushiguro toji x fem!reader

synopsis: you and your friends enter a brothel that has men, instead of women. thus, allows you to encounter toji. and of course, he’s just working and you’re just a client— so there’s nothing else involved, right?

contents: 18+ mdni, explicit language, fem!reader, she/her pronouns. NSFW, cunninglus, teasing, dirty talk, semi-overstimulation, begging, markings/hickeys, protected sex → unprotected sex, creampie, squirting, orgasms, size kink/difference, mentions of pregnancy, breeding kink, cockwarming, pet names. not proofread!

word count: 5k

notes: been thinking abt this lately with toji... might make a gojo one like this idk tho (before you progress in the story just know that i enjoy including the second round of fucking lol...)

your friends heard something interesting a few days ago. they were discussing it while meeting up for a hang out. you were the last to arrive, but your friends were chatting away about some topic you wouldn’t necessarily be interested in— at least not at the moment.

when you inquired and slip into the conversation about what they were discussing about, your friends appeared to hesitate and didn’t respond at first. but your curiosity lingered and you begged them to tell you. therefore— apparently, there was a unique and secret business somewhere in the city.

it was a legal brothel home, posing as a regular club building to the public. if you wanted to go to the brothel, you’d have to see the clerk by the golden elevator. but instead of the brothel having women employees— it was men instead. and your friends were considering on going, but they weren’t certain to invite you since you had just broken up with your boyfriend.

“what? that was like a month ago, c’mon guys. i can go,” you reassured your friends with a smile. sure, the break up still recalls to your mind and pains your healing heart, but you wanted to get over it and the relationship. so of course you’d need to do something thrilling and adventurous that would occupy your mind.

“okay, if [name] wants to then we should let her join us! who knows, she might meet a better hunk there,” one of your friends reply, giggling which makes the others agree.

“what? you know those dudes there are just working and not looking for any relationship,” you furrow your brows slightly, and sigh.

“oh, don’t give us that look, [name]! we were just joking,” one of your other friends intervened with a grin. you proceed not to say anything else as your friends further conversed about their excitement and expectations when they’re at the brothel.

“i hope the guys are hot.”

“i hope i fuck someone hot.”

they all giggled and fawned over the thought of having sex with someone handsome, or whatever. you just disassociated at that moment, not necessarily listening to the rest of the conversation.

later, your friends settled a saturday night to go to this brothel, which was in two days. you found yourself anticipating the consequences of your decisions for the remaining two days, and contemplated whether or not to actually go. well, you didn’t want to disappoint your friends after already claiming you’d go, so you decided to look forward to it.

when saturday night arrives, your friends picked you up and you all headed towards the brothel. it was a decent walk and a lot of people were attending the club. from what you could tell, most of the guests didn’t know that a brothel existed underneath the club. when you and your friends entered the loud room, you all headed towards the golden door tucked in the far back corner. it didn’t necessarily receive much attention, as there was a sign that wrote vip only.

your friends gave the clerk by the elevator an access code, in order for all of you to get in and moments later, another employee assists the group. “come this way, please,” the man gently gestures you all, and after exchanging glances he speaks again. “the golden elevator isn’t the main door that leads you where you want to be, so please come.”

you all trail after the man as he leads you down a quieter hall. large ancient paintings of animals and folklore creatures were hanged up with pure golden frames, easily giving your friends the creeps and caused them to huddle close together.

“i’m assuming this is the first time you’ve all been here?” the man inquires, still keeping his smile as he presses a button to another elevator. you all nod, and he chuckles. “i see, i hope you all have wonderful experiences. you all will be going to another floor where you can meet the men. and if you can’t select someone, then the host will attend you.”

the information seemed to enlighten your friends as they began smiling, giggling, and whispering bullshit that you didn’t necessarily hear when entering the elevator. the elevator brought you girls down two floors, and when the door opens— you all step into the premises of another floor where the tension is more intense and intimate.

there was music, neon party lights, and a limited amount of people. most men were occupied with their clients, while some were sitting and waiting for whoever to approach them. this brothel wasn’t typically like any other— it even appeared like a normal club. as you observed the area, it surprised you to see how many men were actually working in this place.

all of your friends ended up splitting from you and each other, leaving you alone to do whatever you desired. you sat by the bar, occasionally glancing at the men with their lady clients and wondered who to approach. however, you quickly became timid and ordered a drink. for all you know, it was going to be one hell of a night.

when searching for your friends, you could already see them all with someone— laughing and talking. you decided to get and walk around again- and maybe, you’ll meet someone approachable.

the area was decently large, filled with many secluded tables surrounding the large dance floor. you detected the unique decorations and designs of the interior, reminding you of those wicked businesses in those television shows. you were about to lap around the entire area again, when you felt a hand on your shoulder.

catching you off guard, you immediately whip your head around to see a man around your height. he was chubby and reeked a strong smell of alcohol and cheap cologne. you tried not express rudely, since you’re a client who didn’t want to get kicked out, and gently moved away from the man’s touch.

“sorry, can i help you?” you question with an awkward grin.

“no, no, sweetheart. i’ve just been looking at ya for a while now..” the man responds, a burp following after. “ya lonely? need someone? c’mon, we can go for a couple more drinks, yeah? get to know each other better and then we can go into one of the rooms..”

“s-sorry, sir. i’m not interested,” you hoped the decline was polite enough, and you slightly stepped away from the man. “in fact, i’m with someone..”

“aww, are you shy, my dear? i know you aren’t with anyone,” the man chuckles as he traces your steps, approaching closer to you. he grabs your forearm, tugging you towards him. “come on, it’ll be super, super fun.”

you were about to slap the man across the face when another hand presses against the man’s shoulder, earning both of your attentions. behind of the man was another— taller, muscular, and handsomer man with a scar on his mouth. his countenance was so powerful, yet intriguing and it destroyed the shorter man’s confidence.

“are you drunk again?” the taller man questions, his low and raspy tone making your knees weak as he pulls the other man away from you. he gives you a quick glance before returning to the other man. “ya know, you shouldn’t be approaching clients like that if you don’t want the business to fail. boss wouldn’t like that, would he now?”

“t-toji?! y-you shithead.. i’m not doing anything bad- and don’t meddle into other’s situations!” the short man spouts, face burning with embarrassment as he pushes toji’s hand off his shoulder.

“well it is my business since she’s my client,” toji tilts his head and crosses his arms, maintaining his cool and calm demeanor. “so, you gonna leave or what?”

“y-you..” the man is unable to say anything else, and without looking at you, he quickly walks past toji and pushes through other people walking behind, disappearing into the crowd.

you sigh out of relief, feeling your heart race faster than usual. you raise your head, meeting gazes with toji who was clearly unbothered. “thank you.. for that,” you nod your head, but toji just shrugs.

“it was nothing, princess,” toji raises an arm and gently rubs the side of his head with his palm. “you’re a client and you have the right to tell him to back off. don’t just be standing there helpless, cause no one else is gonna help ya.”

“but you did,” you reply, furrowing your brows.

“right, of course, i did. what i mean is— no one else is gonna help you but me,” a little smirk appears on toji’s lips as he steps closer to you, his build towering over yours. “you still need help, pretty girl?”

“n-no.. i’m.. fine,” you stammer, shaking your head and dart your eyes in different directions as you feel your face burn.

toji lowers his eyes to examine your flustered expression, and he chuckles, admiring how cute your face looks. he opened his mouth and was about to reply, when another girl’s voice grabbed his attention.

“tojiii!” a woman running behind of toji calls out to him and she instantly wraps her arms around his waist. you blink several times, watching the interaction and remaining silent. “i’ve been looking alll over for youu~”

toji turns his head and down at the woman, smiling and gently putting his hands over hers. “sorry, just got caught up in something. you having fun?”

“noooo. without you it’s just so, so boring. c’mon toji~ let’s go back to the table~” the girl whines and pouts, tugging toji closer to her breasts that were pushed against his back. and she finally notices you from the corner of her eyes. “oh, who’s this?”

toji gives you a look, before turning back to the woman again. “just another client. go back to the table, i’ll meet you there,” toji says, fully turning his body to face her.

her pout grows larger as she gives toji her pleading eyes. “no, toji, you gotta come with meee~ and i’ll always be your favorite right, toji? hmmmm?”

“of course, of course. now go back first, i gotta help this client, y’know it’s my job to do that,” toji pats the girl’s shoulder, trying to gently push her away from him. “then after that, i’m all yours, ‘kay?”

“it’s fine! i don’t need any help,” you blurt out, earning the attention of the two. the tension became sensitive, and you could feel the flustered emotions returning to you. toji tilts his head, gazing at you as if you just said something you shouldn’t have. “thank you for helping me though, i’ll be going now.”

without giving toji or the woman another glance, you turn around and walk straight back towards the bar. you could feel a knot form in your stomach as you push yourself up on an empty chair, waving a hand at the bartender to make you another cocktail. you press your arm against the cold feeling of the bar’s countertop, now regretting your choice of coming here.

you couldn’t approach any man at all, and even if you wanted to, they were already with a client. you were pretty much going to spend the rest of the night at the bar, drinking constantly until you couldn’t and eventually go home without informing your friends who probably didn’t even care at that moment. two of them were already heading towards one of the rooms, while the others— well, you didn’t know.

your mind endlessly thought about the imagination of toji sitting next to you and talking to you before inviting you into one of the rooms. that man had caught your attention. however, he seemed quite popular and probably had many clients tracing after him like a golden prize.

maybe i should just leave, you thought when finishing your fifth cup of alcohol. thankfully, you were a strong drinker, so you could smoothly leave without any complications. you took out your phone, turning on the device and opening the messages app to text in the group chat that you’d be leaving. to you, there was necessarily no point in staying here.

as you were about to get off the chair, you heard someone pull the seat next to you. turning your head, your eyes fall upon toji’s large figure. his dark eyes were already on you and a faint smirk appears on his lips as you bring your thighs closer together.

“leaving so soon?” toji questions.

“l-leaving? i’m not.. leaving,” the lie slips off your tongue, and you had no clue why you had done so. toji’s demeanor was so alluring and his approach made your heart flutter a bit. the man was gorgeous, even with his scar— he’s definitely someone you would have approached if you saw him sooner.

“didn’t mean to eavesdrop, but i saw you text your friends that you were leaving,” toji smiles, leaning his head to the side. “i’m guessing you haven’t approached anyone yet, huh?”

“no..” you shake your head, swallowing the nervousness you had aching in your throat. you turn your head slightly, detecting the girl toji was with earlier— it seems like she was searching for him again. “um.. what about the girl earlier?”

“oh, her?” toji hums, eyes wandering to the same direction before returning back to you. “you don’t gotta worry about her, princess. she should be the least of yours worries.”

“but she’s—“

“hey,” toji gently grabs your chin, turning your attention back onto him. “i said don’t worry about her, or anyone at all. just worry about me only, i’m keeping you company.”

your body seemed to make the decisions for you and you nodded your head, eyes never leaving toji’s as he returns his hand to his side. toji orders a drink for himself, noticing how much cups you’ve already gotten yourself.

“so, what brought you here?” toji questions, drumming his fingers against the bar’s countertop. he couldn’t help but observe your attire— the way your dress hugged your body and shifted near your hips, almost revealing your panties underneath. “i’m sure a pretty girl like you would have a boyfriend, no?”

“oh.. no. i broke up with my boyfriend a while ago,” you reply, shifting your eyes slightly away as you notice him constantly checking you out. not that you were uncomfortable, rather becoming timid. sure, you’d imagine talking to him like this— but now that it was actually happening, you didn’t necessarily know how to act. “what makes you want to work here?”

“huh, dunno. for fun, i guess,” toji shrugs as the bartender passed toji’s drink to him. he lifts the cup in his hands, gaze still on you. “you here for fun too, eh?”

“well, i’m here with my friends—“ you pause and shake your head as toji takes a long sip of his drink beverage. “well, i was with them. i’m pretty sure they’re all invited to the rooms by now.”

“that so?” toji smiles, finishing his drink before leaning closer to you. his face was nearly inches away from yours, and you couldn’t help but stare down at his lips and back up into his eyes. “what’s your name, by the way, princess?”

“[name]…”

“cute name for a cute girl. i’m toji, but i’m pretty sure you already know that,” he chuckles, still leaning close to your face. “hm.. how about i take you to one of the rooms?”

it took you a while, but now you’re in a private room with toji. as your lips moved against each other’s, his large hands groped your ass and he grinds his hips against yours. you can feel his hard aching dick underneath his pants, pressing against your lower belly and you moan against his lips because of the sensation.

“lay down, princess,” toji instructs as your leg hits the frame of the bed. you follow his directions, pushing your lips away from his and laid down on the mattress. toji initially observes your expression, seeing how needy you’ve already become for him. just imagining how wet you were was making his dick even harder. “wanna spread your legs for me, pretty?”

you didn’t hesitate to follow his request, spreading your wobbling legs apart which pushes your dress upwards to reveal your soaked panties. toji smiles and kneels in front of you, eyes staring at the drenched area. he presses a finger against your clothed pussy, getting a small whine out of your mouth.

“t-toji..”

“you know, ever since you came in here, i’ve been wanting to approach ya,” toji starts, hoisting both of your legs over his shoulder and he grips the fat of your thighs, pushing your hips closer to his face. he presses a soft kiss on your inner thigh, eyes looking into yours. “i wondered why such a pretty girl like you was here.”

toji continues to press kisses on your inner thigh, swirling his tongue around certain areas before gently biting on the skin. quiet moans fall from your lips as your hands grip the sheets of the mattress and your pussy quivered each moment his lips neared your wet area. toji leaves several marks on your thighs before pressing the tip of his tongue against your clothed clit.

“mm- fuck…” your head falls back as his tongue rubs against your sensitive clit, and toji chuckles before kissing your thighs again. “that already made you moan like that? shit, can’t wait to hear how you sound like when i use my tongue.”

toji lifts his head, opening his mouth to bite against the fabric of your panties and you watch as he lowers them down and off of you. he tosses the garment somewhere on the floor, eyes locked on your glistening cunt. “such a pretty pussy i have here, eh?” he compliments, thumbing your clit.

“fuck… i-i need your tongue in me now, toji..” you squirm as toji makes slow, sensual circles against your clit with his thumb.

“i hear you, princess," toji grins as he lowers his face to your pelvic area. he glides his wet tongue up and down your folds, before slightly pushing it into your needy hole. you gasp, feeling his tongue beginning to passionately fuck your pussy.

"t-that feels s'good, toji-" you moan, a hand going to grasp his hair. toji's smile became wider as he moves to pleasure your clit, swirling his tongue around and gently sucking on your sensitive sweet spot.

you had never felt such satisfaction before, even when you were with your previous boyfriend. hearing your soft moans made toji eager to fuck you at that moment, he was so desperate to know how your cunt would feel around him. but he's patient, wanting to create a more erotic atmosphere. toji's never met someone who could make him feel like this, after all, he's just working.

toji rolls his tongue against your wet folds, licking and savoring your arousal dripping out. then he returns to gently suck and kitten lick on your clit, grunting lowly at the feeling of your hand roaming and softly gripping his hair.

you start grinding your hips a little to match the sync of his tongue eating you out, making toji smirk. "so needy, aren't ya, princess?" toji chuckles, spitting his saliva on your pussy before returning his tongue back to spread the liquid over the area.

"mhm- needy- just for you, toji-" you moan as your body trembles, head nearly falling back against the mattress. toji flicks his tongue faster against your pussy, noticing that you were gradually reaching your orgasm and he circles his thumb on your clit to assist you closer to your climax.

your heart and breathing rate increases as your hips jerk slightly forward, your pussy ejaculating more of your arousal fluids that toji just couldn't get enough of. your body receives a great sensation of satisfaction and toji pulls his face away, his smug grin returning to his lips.

“you ready for my cock, princess?” toji questions as he stands up, unzipping his pants and lowering his boxers to free his throbbing hard cock leaking with pre-cum. your cute, soft eyes seemed to shine upon seeing his dick, causing toji to snicker. you nod your head indicating your approval and toji grabs out a condom packet from his pocket.

toji opens the condom pack with his teeth, slipping the thin protection on his cock after pumping it several times with his other hand. he wets the condom with your arousal before positioning himself properly between your thighs. you watch the entire thing, lips slightly trembling at the sight of his thick cock pressing against the entrance of your swollen pussy.

he starts by teasing your pussy with his tip and pushing your legs farther apart. you squirm, eyes begging for him to push his cock in. “p-please, toji~” you whine, making the man’s smile curve wider. toji quickly slips off his shirt, exposing his scarred but well-built body. “this pussy really wants it, huh?” he replies, figuring he’d take off your other clothes later and instantly shoves his cock past your folds and into your aching hole.

“n-ngh! fuck!” you cry out, eyes nearly rolling back as toji starts thrusting his hips. you swore you just came, but you couldn’t even tell as you were lust struck by toji’s cock. “shittt, princess— you’re clenching me so fucking tight,” toji groans, his cock twitching at the feeling of your sensitive walls sucking him in.

toji pushes your legs towards you with his hands, lowering his body over yours to quicken his thrusts. he grunts, fingers nudging into the skin of your thighs. your pussy felt so damn good around him, he was loving it and making him imagine how it’d feel like to fuck you without the condom. toji’s slept with other women before, several of the same ones a couple times, but they never gave him the same feeling you did. for some reason, it’s different with you and toji was certain that if you kept coming here, he’d fuck you and only you.

“you’re adjusting so well to me already.. agh, shit,” toji moans, pumping his cock deep into your pussy— like he was craving so much more of it. “mm- toji! p-please kiss me~” you moan out, squeezing your walls tightly around him as toji guides your legs to wrap around his waist.

toji lowers his face, pressing his lips against yours and forcefully pushes his tongue into your mouth. you both share a sloppy kiss, your tongues moving in a lustful desire as your hands travel to claw the skin of toji’s back as he pounds into you from the position.

“toji- ngh- yes, fuck me harder!” you beg when pulling away from the kiss, tugging his body close to yours. toji groans, feeling his balls become more sensitive from your indecent demand and thrusts quicker, rougher like you wanted. “s-shit. your pussy treats me so well, baby— like it’s just f’me,” toji grunts, realizing he was reaching his climax next.

“i’m about to cum- shit-“ toji huffs, smiling from the feeling of your pussy pulsating around him when he claimed he was about to cum. he pushes his body away, throwing your legs over his shoulders and gripping his arms around your thighs before roughly plunging his cock into your pussy. “fuckfuckfuck, i’m gonna cum too- toji-“ you cry out, eyes shutting as small tears stream down the side of your face.

“rub your clit, princess. show me how you touch your clit when i'm fucking you like this," toji demands as you push your hips up. you whine and without hesitating to his request, you lower a hand down to rub circles against like your clit, allowing you to reach your second orgasm. "that's good. such a good girl," he praises next with a groan following.

as you came over his cock, you could feel toji's warm cum through the condom when he stops thrusting. his large body hovers over yours and you both gasp heavily for air. your eyes seemed to stare at the ceiling for a very long time, but your attention is drawn away when toji slips his cock out your pussy and takes off the condom. he tosses the used condom to the trash can nearby and cleans himself up, and you notice that he was still quite hard.

"toji.." you call out, earning his gaze. you had pushed your dress off of you, leaving you in your laced bra. his eyes widen slightly, but he doesn't make a move as you unclipped your bra and threw it somewhere, revealing your breasts. "let's go for another round.. please.." you implore, getting on all fours in front of him.

toji's dick pulsates at the sight of your actions, and he couldn't reject you at all, not when you're looking and pleading for him like this. he nods, about to grab another condom when you stop him. initially, he's confused by your gesture and watches as you turn your entire body around, your ass facing his hard cock. "n-no condom.." you utter, exposing your still wet cunt to him.

"are you on the pill?" toji questions first, but you shake your head. he sighs, "you know that-"

"i-i know.. and it's okay.. so pleasee, toji," you beg again with a small whimper. toji reminds himself that you're still his client and apart of his job was to follow client's request no matter the circumstances. however, even if you weren’t his client… toji grabs the side of your hips with his hands, pushing your ass against his hips before aligning his cock at your entrance.

without warning, toji shoves his bare cock entirely into your pussy and you both moan at this different sensation. “o-oh fuck..” you mewl, your sticky walls already clenching tight around him. “s-shit.. [name], your pussy feels so damn good,” toji grunts, hips moving at a quicker pace.

toji didn’t mention to you, but you’re the first person here that he’s fucking without a condom and damn it felt way better than ever. with the position, it allowed him to penetrate deeper into your pussy and rub perfectly against your g-spot. your moans became louder and constant as his thrusts became stronger, and you began pushing your hips back to match the sync of his thrusts.

“fuckkk, yeah. fuck my cock, princess,” toji groans at your hip’s movements, head falling back as he starts heavily pounding you from the back. “feels s’damn good, yeah,” he’d add next, eyes lowering to the area in which you two connected.

toji’s dick quivers at the sight of your pussy spreading so well to his cock, since he was a much bigger man that you. he’d never imagine a small and cute girl sucking in his cock like this, begging for him until she couldn’t anymore. “tojiii, i love your cock sososo much!” you cry, your pussy squeezing him as if you’re trying to milk his cum out.

his cock is thrusted deep into you, kissing your womb and stroking against your sensitive g-spot. in that moment, you were so glad that you came to the brothel with your friends— and that you didn’t leave before toji approached you. your friends would probably be confused on your actions once they see you again, but who’d care what they would think? if they saw toji, you bet they would be wanting to pursue him too.

"ngh- fuckkk- i want keep coming here! i want to feel your raw cock fill up my pussy just like this!" you scream, eyes rolling back as your tears stream down your messy face.

"haaahh, princess. if you keep coming here wanting that then..." toji begins through his grunts and pants, hips slamming harshly against your ass that it'd leave marks. "you might.. actually end up getting.. pregnant. fuck-" he moans, feeling you squeeze his cock at his words.

"'ts okay, toji- i'll deal with- the consequences! pleaseee, i want your cum!" you reply through your heavy moans, head turning around to face him. your expression was so erotic and filthy, you practically had heart eyes just for him. it made toji wonder if he should just cum in you like you wanted. oh how it made his dick twitch from imagining knocking you up with his babies. "we're both going to deal with the consequence, princess. shitt fine, i'm gonna give you my cum since you've been so good to me," toji replies as his grip on your hips tighten.

"yesyesyes! oh god- pleaseplease give me your cum!" you plead over and over, and how can toji reject such a proposal like that? especially when it's coming from you? "fuck, fuck," toji chants, fingertips dipping into your skin as he feels his climax forming quick. "take all of my cum like the good girl you are, 'kay? don't you dare fucking waste it or else i'll fuck more into you."

maybe toji shouldn't have said that, but either way, you both were certain that there was no stopping even after this. at this point, he was going to work past his shift, but he didn’t care one bit. if you both were kicked out, he’d invite you to his place and you’d both continue fucking from there. constant sex with you was one of his desires, but first, he wanted to know more about you.

when toji pumps his warm cum into you, your thoughts seemed to have fade from your head. you’ve never experienced such erotic, explicit, and dirty sex like this before, and it’s something you’ll be craving for once you and toji go separate ways. well, that is if you do.

toji remains his cock in your pussy, wanting to keep warm. as you’re catching for air, you can feel him press kisses against your shoulder and down your back. his lips travel back to your neck and towards your ear, and you could feel his hot breath gently brushing against your skin.

“wanna ride me next, princess?”

LOAFGETO. thank you for reading! please do not copy my work or publish in another media without my permission.

a/n: GOODNESS THIS WAS AGONIZING TO WRITE.. i didnt know when i’d finish this but thankfully it didn’t take more than two days.. LOL. have a good day/night guys. likes + reblogs is appreciated!!!! <3

#loafgeto #toji smut #toji fushiguro smut #toji fushiguro x you #toji fushiguro x reader #toji x y/n #toji x you #toji x reader #toji x female reader #jujutsu kaisen x female reader #jujutsu kaisen smut #jjk smut #jjk toji smut #toji fushigro x reader #anime smut #jjk oneshot

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unoislazy · 6 months

Text

Healing Takes Time

(Part 2)

I wasn’t originally going to make a part 2 considering I just wanted everyone to wallow in their sadness. Buuuuttt there were enough people asking for it so I figured I’d be nice just this once and make a Part 2. Can’t guarantee it’ll be good though.

Disclaimer; NSFW is hinted at but never explicitly stated (may come in a later part if I actually want to continue this more)

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A day had passed.

A week.

A month.

A year.

Then a few years.

So much time had gone by and you still stared at your door in anticipation sometimes, hoping Mizu would come walking back in. Even if she had returned to you beaten and bloody asking for you to fix her up, you would in a heartbeat. You missed her more than words could ever even think to describe.

You missed her company, you missed her help, you missed… her.

You had only known each other for a few months but the kiss you had shared lingered with you for as long as you waited. A few times you had almost convinced yourself to stop hoping; she had something she needed to do, what reason was there for her to come back to you? Sometimes you worried that she might have died in pursuit of her quest, maybe you should’ve gone with her, at least you could offer her some sort of help.

Not like it mattered now.

You had no way of telling where she was, if she was okay, or if she even wanted to come back.

You hoped she at least thought of you as much as you did of her.

During the time that had passed, you decided to set up a medicinal shop. At least you would have something to fully focus on with your time instead of spending most of it worrying about a woman who you believed had no intention of coming back to you.

Business was slow at first.

Really slow.

You had to put yourself out there, let people know that you were there and what your purpose was.

Thankfully, as time went on, and the more drunkards that managed to stumble their way in after being harshly thrown out, word of your practice spread throughout the town. Any time anyone felt sick, in pain, dizzy, drowsy, anything at all, they came to you. It almost got to the point people treated you as if you had some magic healing power, which of course you didn’t, just a lengthy amount of herbal and medicinal knowledge.

You were happy and before long you had somewhat forgotten about the strange samurai that had graced your presence all those years ago.

Of course you never fully forgot, but she was no longer in the forefront of your mind. If anything she had drifted into a distant memory of what could have been had the stars aligned for you that day.

You often thought about how you’d feel if she had entered your life once again and you never had a clear answer. You’d feel happy that she had returned, angry that she left in the first place, and afraid that she would leave again. Would she look the same as she did when she left? Would she even recognize you? Would she have come back looking for you or would she have simply stumbled across you.

You had a million questions and most of which you had to come to terms with the fact that they might never be answered.

You yawned, turning over on your bed as you stretched, trying to wake yourself up the best you could to start a new day. Now that you had a business to tend to, days off were not a very common thing, but you didn’t entirely mind. More time to yourself meant more time thinking about things that truly didn’t matter.

You finally rolled out of your bed, throwing your sheet off of you and standing up. Just because you liked the distraction doesn’t mean you had to enjoy every aspect of going to work.

You spent time getting yourself ready, at least making some effort to look nice, before you had finally walked out of your house.

You walked down the ever muddy road, passing by others who were starting their day, some who lived there, some who didn’t. As you walked down the road, you spotted a familiar hat walking about amongst the crowd. You didn’t think much of it, many people wore the same type of hat, you’d be a fool to get your hopes up over something so small.

And yet you couldn’t help but wonder.

You abandoned your usual path to your shop, making your way in the general direction of the hat owner, but not making it obvious that you were heading towards them. After all, if it hadn’t actually been Mizu you wanted to at least have the ability to deny ever heading towards them in the first place. You made your way over, dodging and weaving between the people who walked through the busy street and just as you had made it over you saw,

A man.

A man who looked nothing like Mizu.

You knew it, you shouldn’t have gotten your hopes up, but why listen to your consciousness. You sighed, walking away from the man and heading back on your original path. You knew it wouldn’t be her and yet there was still a part of you that believed she would come back. You felt like an idiot, more than that, you felt like an absolute moron.

Why were you so hung up on this woman that you spent a few months with several years ago. You should be over her by now, you knew she’d have to leave eventually and she did, what was your issue?

Your issue was you loved her. Oh how you hated admitting that, but you loved her more than you had loved anyone in a long time. You both knew she wouldn’t stay, you both got attached, but it felt like you had gotten more attached than she had, and you hated it. If she truly loved you the same amount, why couldn’t she just stay with you? Why did she have to leave?

You wanted to move on, you had to move on, but you couldn’t. No one else had caught your eye since, and you were certain no one else would make you feel the same way she had when you had spent time together.

You too never went far, only sharing that one simple kiss and yet it was all you needed to confirm that you truly loved her.

You sighed again, finally reaching your shop.

It wasn’t common for doctors or anyone with medicinal practice to not just go to peoples houses, but you liked doing things differently. Besides, most of the people you treated were cast out and likely didn’t live around here anyways.

You set up your usual things, tending to some of the plants and herbs you kept around, making sure everything was in its place before you waited.

Oftentimes you wouldn’t get many sellers in the morning, most people were still waking up and going to their own jobs by this point in the day, but you thought it necessary to at least be ready for anything one might deal with during the day.

You sat waiting for a few hours before you finally had someone walk in. A very tall and lanky man that wore a blue outfit. If it hadn’t been for his face, you might’ve thought he was Mizu. He simply asked for some help with soreness which you treated and sent him on his way. After him, the rest of your clients began to pour in, all asking for different treatments and medicines, most of which were just really simple solutions.

You definitely enjoyed your job, helping people was something you always loved to see.

Your day continued on, people going in and out all day until you had gotten a different client.

“Just one second!” You called from the other room, having heard the door slide open. You had been moving some of your things around, giving yourself more room and organizing a bunch. You don’t know why you did it considering you always ended up rearranging things, but it never hurt to at least try and have a system. You wiped your hands clean of the dirt that was never there as you entered the man room again.

“Okay, what can I help you w-”

You froze.

Standing before you was what at first you thought to be a man, but upon closer inspection you realized that standing before you was no man, it was…

“Mizu?” You asked, you felt almost as if you had just been imagining it. There was no way that she was standing there right in front of you, not after the several people you had confused to be her throughout the day, this had to have just been one of those times… Just to an extreme and unhealthy amount.

The woman before you held an expression you couldn’t read entirely. She looked as if she was happy to see you but there was something else hidden in her expression that you couldn’t quite grasp. You cautiously walked towards her as if you made any sudden movements she would just fade away.

You were now standing in front of her, a bit of a distance between you two, but you were still close enough to see the details on her face. You very carefully reached up, your hand grazing against her skin as you took her glasses off, her blue eyes never looking away as she let you do so. Your other hand had now come up, cupping her face as you dropped her glasses on the ground. All the emotions you thought you’d feel were there, but they were much stronger than you originally anticipated. At that moment though, all you felt was relief. She was alive, she came back, and now she was standing in front of you.

You didn’t know how to express your feelings in any other way than moving forward and kissing her much like you had done the day you left. You both leaned into the kiss, all the yearning and desperation you had held back for so many years came back full force as you held her gently between your hands. She too had moved you closer, not wanting to let you go after so many years of being apart.

That was until you pulled away for a moment, the one question still running through your mind,

“Why did you leave?” You asked, your eyes filled with the pain of several years alone as you stared at her. She averted your gaze at first, clearly not wanting to answer as she went silent.

“We both knew I'd have to.” She finally answered, still not wanting to look at you.

“I knew you wanted to but you didn’t have to.” You argued, you knew she was going to leave regardless and there was no changing her mind when she did. But that foolish part of you still had held out hope that she would just change her mind and stay with you, and that foolish part of you is the reason you were hurt so badly now. If you hadn’t held onto that hope for so long, you wouldn’t have gotten hurt.

“I did. I had to finish what I started.” Mizu claimed, and she stood by that claim. It was the truth after all.

“And how long did that take to finish?” You asked. If she had come back right after she had finished her task, you wouldn’t have been so angry, but instead it only fueled your anger as you realized she had gone quiet.

“What, so you just stayed away? Why?”

She stayed silent.

“Mizu. Why?” You persisted. You tried to keep your anger up but your demand for answers slowly began to turn to pleading. You were upset, you wanted to be angry, but in reality you were just hurt. You held out hope for so long that she would return and yet she never did, you thought she died, you thought maybe she had been left badly wounded, but no. She had finished her mission and just refused to come back to you.

“Why?” You asked once more, her silence was the last thing you wanted right now, you wanted her to say something, anything.

“I was afraid.” She finally admitted. Her eyes were shut, she didn’t even want to see the look on your face as you processed what she had said.

“Afraid of what? What could you possibly be afraid of?” You scoffed. In your mind she was a samurai, someone who had faced death and laughed in its face several times. In your mind, she had absolutely nothing to fear.

“That when I returned you wouldn’t see anything but a monster.” She began. You couldn’t see it but her eyes had ever so slightly begun to tear up, she covered it smoothly, not wanting you to notice as she continued, “I was afraid that you would realize that I am nothing more than just a demon with a sword.”

You simply stared at her for a moment.

“Have you learned absolutely nothing about me?”

Her eyes finally shifted towards you, confusion riddling every inch of her face.

“I don’t care about any of that, Mizu.” You began. Now finally having your answer to why she had stayed away, you no longer felt so angry, if anything you were more upset with the fact that she assumed you would react in such a way. “I don’t care what color your eyes are or how good you are with a sword and I certainly don’t care that you’re a woman.” You lightly joked, earning a small exhale in acknowledgement from Mizu. You made your way back over to her, now standing in front of her just as you had done before.

You had spent so much time worrying over her only for her to be avoiding you because of a silly assumption she had made on her own.

“I'm sorry.” She quietly said, her eyes not meeting your own as she continued, “It’s a habit. I just kind of expect it at this point.” She admitted with a shrug. You frowned, hearing such a hearvy admission as if it was nothing that upset you. You knew you wouldn’t be able to change her way of thinking but you could at least try and convince her about how you felt.

“Well what’s important is that you’re back.” You said with a smile. “You plan on staying right?” You asked, your smile dropping for a moment as you awaited her answer. You didn’t want her to leave again, you didn't want to finally be able to feel her again just for her to disappear as if she never existed in the first place. Any amount of distraction in the world wouldn’t be enough to keep you from the despair and anger you’d feel if she had left a second time.

“Of course I am.” She confirmed, a slight smile gracing her face as you happily hugged her. It would be a bit of a weird adjustment for the both of you given your new schedule but those were issues for future you to worry about. Right now all that matters was you and Mizu, and a very much still open medicinal shop that still had clients waiting for help. Once you finally realized this, you had given a place for Mizu to wait as you had continued to help clients, sometimes she even gave her own input on things, having needed certain items for certain issues herself. Although her expertise mainly centered around open wounds and gashes which, surprise surprise, was not all that common when you weren’t going out of your way to fight people every chance you got. You appreciated the help nonetheless.

The sun had already set as you finished up for the day. Mizu had helped you put some things away and get everything ready for the next day. You were beyond delighted to see her again, even just watching her put things away was enough to send you soaring. She might’ve been on the leaner side but Mizu was still uncommonly strong, and you couldn’t help but admire her any chance you got, of course when she wasn’t looking. You certainly weren’t giving her the heavier items to lift for that exact reason, who would ever think to do such a thing?

Once you both had finished up, you slid the door behind you both and began to walk back towards the direction of your house.

“I missed you.” You admitted quite out of the blue. It was clear you both missed each other but neither of you had outwardly said those three words yet, so you figured you’d be the first. Little did you know just the effect they had on Mizu, no one had ever said something like that directed towards her, she felt so… loved.

“I missed you too.”

One wouldn’t expect a relationship that has such little time to blossom to actually thrive but you two worked very well together.

Once you had finally made it inside, you both got yourselves situated and comfortable. Mizu took a small look around, getting used to her surroundings just like she once had. You could see a faint smile on her face as she walked about, looking at the decorations around your home, most of which had not been changed but two or three had been replaced. She then stopped and began to stare at the painting that she had sat and stared at so many times before.

“Hey Mizu?” You called for her, gaining her attention as she looked towards you. You had only changed to a more comfortable outfit, if anything it had resembled what you had worn the day you met Mizu, but something about her shifted.

“Do you mind helping me with this?” You asked, referring to something that you couldn’t tie from behind your back. She obliged, not many emotions could be seen on her face, but she definitely looked deep in thought.

You had made your way over to her, turned around and waited for her to finish tying whatever you had needed help with. However, you couldn’t feel her tying anything, in fact you couldn’t feel her moving at all. That’s because she wasn’t, she had waited for just a moment before she leaned over your shoulder, whispering quietly in your ear,

“How about we make this easier and just make up for lost time?” She teased. It was a small gesture but it was enough to send what felt like a whirlwind through your stomach. You turned back to look at her expecting her to be joking considering you had never heard her speak in such a way but when you had turned back you were met with eyes that were filled with a certain kind of hunger.

She wasn’t joking.

And you’d be damned if you were going to miss this opportunity.

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thatfreshi · 9 months

Text

Out of Love (Astarion x reader)

Tw - death, vomiting, assisted suicide, sickness

Recommended Song: Past Hound - Adam Melchor

A couple of moons ago, you came down with a horrific illness. You and Astarion both don't know why, or how. You suspect foul play. After all, you didn't always make friends on your journeys. You wonder if perhaps you were poisoned, someone slipped something into a drink at the bar, changing the course of your life forever. The first month was like a bad flu, high fever, vomiting almost every day, barely able to eat. Over time though, your body started to ache. Astarion knew it was getting bad when you fell in the kitchen, breaking one of his favorite glasses. At first he was enraged, so angry that you could be so careless with one of his prized posessions. Then, he turned the corner and saw you lying on the floor, and quickly reverted his previous sentiments.

You don't remember exactly how long it's been. About two months in, Astarion told Shadowheart and Halsin to come over, realizing this was not going to go away on its own. They, tried, everything. Shadowheart went into a frenzy, reading up on everything she could, trying spells she had never cast before. Halsin got ahold of every other druid he knew in the city, to no avail. Everyone was clueless. The only thing they could determine is that this illness was man-made.

"So some bastard did try to finally get me, huh?"

You smile a little at your own comment, wincing at the pain it brings you. Astarion glares, not at you, but at the idea that someone would do this to you.

"Not funny my sweet."

It's now been four months. Astarion has tried his best to keep up with all the care you need, but it has turned both of your lives to shambles. Eventually he invited all your old companions over, to stay for a while, as they wanted to help with your illness. Despite the fact that he could barely stay awake at times, he would watch over you for hours on end, sometimes twenty at a time, until someone like Lae'zel dragged him out of your room to go lie down.

Gale has cooked every meal for all of you since you've gotten worse. He tries his best to make things from your childhood, things you'd find comforting. Shadowheart and Halsin continue to research your sickness, finding nothing. Wyll, Karlach, and Lae'zel take turns with Astarion, keeping watch over you, tending to your every need. At this point, you can barely get up most days, either from pain or lack of energy. Despite this, you can't ever sleep. If you do manage to drift off, it's for thirty minutes or so, and then you're jolted awake by some pain.

One day though, you're awoken by Astarion and Halsin arguing.

"I'm telling you Astarion, there is nothing I can do. Tav is going to pass. I don't know how soon, but I would start getting things in order."

He tries to hold back tears, to be good with his bedside manner, but it's almost impossible when Astarion keeps yelling back at him, desperate.

"Tav is not going to die. It's not time yet, you have to do something!"

"Please, Astarion. I don't want to fight with you. I know this is hard to hear, but it's over. There's nothing more we can do. There is no cure."

He tenses, ready to spit some nasty sentence about how he must be some great druid if he can't even heal people, but he refrains, wiping at his eyes. He storms off to his study, as all of your friends watch it unfold.

"I knew he was going to react like that."

Gale says sadly, looking down at the floor.

"I'll go take watch, give him some time."

And with that, Karlach comes into your room. You pretend to be asleep.

After a few agonizing hours, it's evening. Karlach brought you some soup that you couldn't bring yourself to even try eating. As the sun sets, Astarion is in the doorway, a grim look in his eyes. Without saying anything, Karlach takes her leave, giving him an understanding nod that you don't see.

When your lover makes his way to the bed, he lies down next to you, locking eyes with your tired gaze. It's as if you've been beaten twelve times over, the bags under your eyes have gotten so dark.

"Hello my sweet."

He smiles softly, trying to hide the sorrow, trying to shelter you from the news Halsin gave him.

"Hello my love."

You smile back, a little bit of pain and pressure in your face at the attempt.

"Is there anything I can do for you?"

You snuggle into his side, trying not to move too much. He meets you halfway.

"I'm just... I'm so tired."

"I know darling... I know."

"No, Astarion. I'm tired of this."

"As am I. Shadowheart and Halsin are working steady as always, they'll find something."

You shake your head, a movement he can feel against his chest.

"No. No I... I heard."

You're exhausted, the air barely leaving your lungs.

"Heard what my dear?"

He's not good at playing dumb, the crack in his voice giving it all away. He hadn't thought about the argument, that you would've heard the two of them yelling about how you're going to die.

"What Halsin... what he told you."

And the tears well in his eyes instantly. He thought he wouldn't have to tell you, that he could keep this sacred thing going, that he could hold you without you needing to know it could all go away so quickly. You hear him sniffle, clearly trying to hold back.

"We don't know it's true Tav, they could still find something. They could be wrong."

His throat is coated in desperation, every word stabbing through your brain, trying to find something in you that believes him, even if he doesn't believe himself.

"They've been at it for months my love. I think it's over."

He grips you a little tighter, wishing for your existence, trying to hold the wind back from the embers of a long-gone flame. You both stay silent for a minute, as you try to work up the courage to ask him something. Something you're not even sure he'll say yes to, but you try.

"I want you to feed on me."

He scoffs, almost angrily.

"No my dear, not while you're sick. You need everything you can get.."

You shake a little, perhaps from the never-ending fever, or maybe from the fear, or the pain.

"No. I mean I want you to feed on me until I'm gone."

He tenses, shocked by your request.

"You... you what?"

You start to tear up, which only brings more pain.

"I'm just so tired Aster, and I've fought for so long. I want it to be over. I'm ready for it to be over, please."

You can barely make it through the end of your sentence without choking up.

"I can't do that, I- I won't!"

He sits up to look at you.

"You can't give up, not like this. There's still time, we still have time."

You reach out for his hand, and he obliges. As you squeeze you fingers into the back of his hand, you ask him one of the hardest questions he's ever had to answer.

"What, so you can watch me continue to suffer?"

He hadn't thought of it, that if this was horrific, how much worse could it get? How long was soon? Even Halsin didn't know how much time, not even an estimate, just... soon. He doubles down.

"No! So that, that maybe you can get better! That we can find the bastard that did this and make him cough up the cure. Maybe we can-"

"Astarion!"

You hadn't yelled for weeks, mustering up everything in your body to overpower his pleading voice. The tears continue to fall down his face, and he leans over, bringing your hand to his face.

"I can't Tav. I can't kill you. You're asking me to destroy the only thing I've ever loved, I-"

The thought of it makes him feel like throwing up, the thought of doing something like that to you. Forever ago he tried feasting on your blood in the middle of the night, long before you fell in love. And when you woke up to a strange man, a monster trying to steal your life force, you were kind. You let him drink from you, and every time he needed to after that.

"I love you so much, and I know you love me so much deeper than I could ever imagine, and I am asking you to do one last thing for me, out of love. I don't want to die to some unknown disease that's been ravaging my body, to pass in my sleep without so much as a thought. I want to die with you, right here, while everyone sleeps, where we can be alone one last time."

It's hard to argue with you, but Astarion feels as though ending your life is hardly an act of love. Mortal lives are already so fleeting, and yet you are asking him to cut it even shorter, to let you go. He meets your eyes again.

"Can I at least go slow?"

"As slow as you'd like."

You weakly smile, and he realizes there is no more considering your offer. This is what you want, and only he can give it to you.

"Okay."

He leans down to kiss you, slowly making his way to your throat, hesitating at first.

"I love you more than you'll ever know."

No pet names, no antics, no fluff. It's the first time you think he's ever said something so serious about how in love with you he is.

"I love you too Astarion."

And it's rare that you ever call each other by your first names. He shivers a little, saying you love 'Astarion' and not 'your sweet' or 'your love.' With your declarations out of the way, he pierces your skin with his fangs, slower than usual. Feeding from you is almost always a rabid act, desperate, feral. He's reserved, savoring every moment, knowing this is it, the last time he'll taste your blood, the last time he'll hold you in his arms, the last time you'll lie in this bed together. When the cold subsides and the numbness takes over, you're at peace for the first time in a long time. All you feel is the slow lapping of your blood, and his grasp tight around you. It feels like forever to you, but moments for him. As the flowing river becomes smaller, the tiniest drops coming out of your neck, he feels your body start to go limp, your skin start to get cold. He fulfills your request despite how much he's hurting, and he drinks until there is nothing left, until you're gone.

A wail echoes through the house, waking up your companions as they rush to see what's happened. As Shadowheart is the first to reach the doorway, she sees Astarion clutching your body, sobbing hysterically. She gets up next to him, clamoring on, asking what happened. He can barely speak, and the rest watch in silence.

"Tav- I- I had to- they wanted me to-"

Guilt-ridden, terrified of what he's done despite you pleading with him minutes ago, Astarion can only stutter the same phrases over and over again.

"I'm sorry, I'm so so sorry. I- I didn't want to- please."

"Hey, it's okay. Astarion. Astarion?"

Shadowheart notices the blood all over his mouth and the sheets, and the two perfect pin pricks in your neck, realizing what he's done. Astarion looks up for a moment, still clutching your dead body in his hands. And then, he points at Halsin.

"YOU. You fool, Tav heard us, they heard what you said. They gave up because of you. I had to kill them because of you..."

He starts to sob again, losing the rage, overcome with a sorrow that is inexplainable. Halsin only stays silent, knowing these are words of grief and not truth.

"Get out."

Halsin starts to step aside, believing the comment to be about him. When no one else moves, Astarion's eyes dart across the room at everyone, almost manic.

"Get out, all of you. GET OUT."

"Astarion, you can't-"

Gale is cut off by what is such a guttural scream, he can hardly believe it came from the vampire.

"LEAVE."

He comes back to your body, sobbing into flesh that no longer feels.

"Just please leave me alone..."

Shadowheart quietly gets off the bed, ushering everyone out of the room, softly closing the door behind her. Astarion can barely hear the murmurs outside the bedroom door, as he begins muttering to your lifeless corpse.

"I'm so sorry my dear... I'm so sorry. I should've done more, I should've told you to stay, I-"

He can't find the words, relentlessly blaming himself for your choice, wondering if there was any way to get around this. His mind wanders to that first month, when you dropped his wine glass, how he yelled from the other room, how he scolded you for being careless with his things, and he realizes how stupid life is. Nothing matters, a wine glass doesn't matter, you matter. And you were the only thing that ever mattered.

Hours go by, and dusk turns to dawn. Eventually, Gale comes back to the door, knocking softly.

"I'm coming in."

He's met with Astarion still, lying with your body, the blood crusted on the sheets, and his bloodshot eyes. It's as if he barely moved.

"I think... I think it's time."

While Gale wishes that Astarion could stay by your side forever, he knows your corpse will start to change soon, to become worse and worse as the hours pass by. It takes him forever to pry your lover from your side, eventually leading him to the living room, where he lies on the sofa, curled up, as Halsin begins to prepare your body.

#astarion #baldur's gate 3 #baldurs gate astarion #astarion x reader #angst #astarion x tav

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shadowandlightt · 4 months

Text

Of Nightmares and Memories |seven| Azriel X reader

Series Warnings: Kidnapping. Mistreatment. Cursing. Pining. Violence. Depression. Talks of suicide. Eventual smut

Part One Part Two Part Three Part Four Part Five Part Six

A/N: Little bit of a filler, setting up for the second act. I'm very excited for you guys to see where this is going <3

The week that she was gone was more miserable than most. Your fae healing would kick in, leaving little trace of Tamlin’s brutality, only for him to return and beat you to a pulp once more. You were starting to lose track of the days, only seeming to exist in between Tamlin’s visits, when Feyre reappeared. Not looking worse for wear, but instead looking a little lighter than when she left, but filled with the same amount of anxiety.

You could hear Tamlin lock her away into the study, questioning her on everything about the Night Court. Feyre saw so little though, you knew that. Your brother wouldn’t put the Court at risk by bringing her anywhere but the Moonstone Palace. But she met with Mor, and that was enough to bring me to my knees. Just knowing she was alive was enough. But then Feyre mentioned Cassian and Azriel and tears started to flow freely. Because they were alive and in one piece. After everything they made it, they were alive and well. Rhys wouldn’t have mentioned them otherwise.

You sobbed on the floor of your rooms, curled in a ball. Because he lived. Despite it all, Azriel lived. And maybe, somehow you would see him again. Maybe, just maybe, you would be able to escape and make it home. Bide your time until the faebane was out of your system enough to reach out to Rhys for help.

The Tithe came a week later. You hadn’t left your rooms in months, hadn’t felt the sun on your face. Food was brought to you by Alis, sometimes Feyre would sneak into your rooms for a moment. You wish she would’ve after she returned from the Night Court so you could learn how Rhys and Mor were first hand, instead of having to strain to hear it all.

You watched from my window as Feyre sat beside Tamlin, looking like the picture of a Spring Court lady. It made you sick. She belonged here just as much as you did. You couldn’t hear from where you stood, but you could see them just fine. The way half of the people barely had enough to pay the Tithe. It broke your heart, Tamlin should have delayed it again. Should have given his people more than three months to recover from the fifty years of pain and suffering they had to endure. But Tamlin was proud, too proud.

So when Feyre gave her jewels to a water wraith, you knew he would be furious. You could hear it over the dinner that followed. The way they snapped at one another, and then silence, like Feyre left the room.

It was hours before you heard the sound of what seemed like an explosion. You couldn't move to find out what happened, so you strained my ears to hear whatever you could. All you could hear was Tamlin apologizing over and over again to Feyre. He keeps promising he’ll do better, keeps promising they’ll get through this and that things will change. You wonder if she knows it’s all a lie?

Rhys comes for her a few weeks later. In the middle of the night, while you’re all fast asleep. You don’t wake until Tamlin comes bursting into your rooms, demanding to know how he can get Rhys to release Feyre from their bargain. When you tell him that your stubborn brother would rather die than give Tamlin something he wanted, he beat you. And then beat you some more, until you were nothing but a bloodied mess on the floor.

He was waiting by an oak tree at the end of the week. Your body was sore and broken, but healing slowly. Rhys appeared with Feyre in tow, looking exhausted as always. You were beginning to truly worry about her, because it was obvious she was a shell of the human you met months ago. A shell of the one who slapped Tamlin and dared to go against Amerantha.

Now she was nothing. And there was nothing I could do about it, and hardly anything Rhys could do in one week every month. He could try to get her back, but in the end she would return her and fall deeper and deeper. She was right when she told Tamlin she was drowning.

All hell broke loose the following day though.

Though Ianthe returned, you were finally allowed to leave your rooms for a time. You found Feyre standing by the front door, begging Tamlin to take her with him on his trip. He refused, of course, leaving her alone in the doorway. When Feyre said she was coming whether Tamlin liked it or not, you could see something change in him. That’s when she slammed against an invisible wall. That’s when you realized we were both fucked.

She begged and begged, but he kept moving. He mounted his horse and rode away. Lucien lingered for a moment, saying something I couldn’t quite make out from the ringing in my own ears. She was going to rip herself apart or die in this manor house.

You watched as Lucien and Tamlin disappeared. Watched as Feyre crumbled in on herself and slowly began to lose control. Darkness seeped out of her, then fire and ice. She was wrapping herself in a cocoon of it as she crashed to the floor. your heart broke, because you had no power to help her.

Alis called her name, begging her to calm down. But Feyre couldn’t hear her, or chose not to. You felt the need to vomit as I watched on, feeling more helpless than you ever had before.

“Help her!” Alis demanded, finally seeing you standing there.

“I can’t,” you choked out, “I have no power. Your master….he…I can’t do anything.”

Feyre was going to die. There would be nothing left of her by the time Tamlin and Lucien made it back here. She would be nothing but a pile of ashes at this rate. you felt utterly sick, and angry. Angry that you had no power left to help, angry that you’d been locked away too for too long. Angry that Tamlin would even think about locking Feyre away like this, knowing that she would react poorly.

But reacting poorly is an understatement. She was going to bring the whole place down around us. We would all die at her hand, and she wouldn’t mean to do it. She would topple the Spring Court tonight, without meaning to do it. And you would finally be free, in life or in death.

But then the very foundations shuttered, and the sight of blonde hair filled my eyes. you fell to your knees, because it was Mor, whole and beautiful as ever. She couldn’t see you from where you were, but you could see her as she reached into the cocoon of darkness and pulled Feyre out.

“Go,” Alis whispered to me, “Go with them.”

You shook your head, unable to move. Surely it couldn’t be that simple. Surely there would be something else to stop me from leaving. you couldn’t even make it to the gate before. Why would now be any different?

“Please-please take care of her,” Alis begged Mor, “Take care of them both.”

“Both?” Mor questioned.

It was then, with the thought of Azriel and finally returning home to Valaris. Finally being able to fly again and feel the sun and wind on my face. Finally being able to feel Cassian’s bone crushing hugs, and Rhys….oh Rhys. It was only then that you got to your feet and moved from your hiding spot.

Mor faltered upon seeing me. You thought she might even drop Feyre as a sob ripped from her lips. Feyre seemed to be unconscious in the woman’s arms, unaware of what was happening. But Mor knew, the second she laid eyes upon me, she knew. Even though my body had changed and I’d matured, she still saw me.

“How is this possible?” She questioned, taking a small step towards me.

“You don’t have time,” Alis warned, “Someone will have alerted the High Lord, he’ll be on his way.”

“Take me home Mor,” you beg, “Please Mor, take me home.”

“Consider yourselves very, very lucky that your High Lord was not here when we arrived,” Mor warned.

With tears in her eyes, Mor nodded towards me and took a step towards the door. Feyre finally took in a breath, deep and shuttering. You swallowed hard and followed them out of the door. Mor told Feyre that nothing was going to keep them from her, and that Rhys shattered the shields without a second thought.

What would he do when he realized what else he freed? Would he be happy to see you again after so many years? Or would it be too painful for him, after moving on hundreds of years ago. Because surely they all moved on. Surely they didn’t think about you the way you thought of all of them. Surely they didn’t spend every day mourning the life you could have had if Tamlin hadn’t told his father and brothers where to find you that day, or if Rhys hadn’t told Tamlin, or if he’d simply showed up to meet you that day. So many things could be different.

“Hold onto me,” Mor told you , tears streaming down her face.

You grasp onto her arm and hold tightly to it as she winnows you. Your eyes strain against the bright light that floods your vision. Rhys is leaning against a tree, and straightens the second he sees the three of you. He falters, just as Mor had. Eyes blinking furiously as if he’s trying to clear his head.

“You-”

“Rhys,” your voice cracks, “It’s me. I promise.”

“I-” He shakes his head, “You’re dead.”

“No,” You whisper to him, “That’s what they wanted you to think. I’ve been locked away this whole time.”

He reaches for you. Like you’re a ghost that’s going to disappear the second he touches you. Only you don’t, because you’re living and breathing. He breaks then, tears streaming down his face as he pulls you into a tight hug.

“We need to move, Rhys,” Mor reminds him, “The faster we’re in the Night Court, the better.”

“Take me home,” You say again, “I just want to go home.”

“Oh, Little Star,” for the first time in hundreds of years, the name is said with such love and adoration. You don’t flinch when you hear it, you don’t expect it to be accompanied by a blow. Because you know you’re safe now. Safe and loved and protected, “Let’s go home.”

Tag List

@historygeekqueen @saltedscotchcoffee @queerqueenlynn @wallacewillow0773638 @sstrohma @hnyclover @thelov3lybookworm @maddybraps @minnieoo @witchymomfrien @mariahoedt @one-big-fangirl @amara-moonlight @st0rmyt @annamariereads16 @hunterksmith @sleepylunarwolf @sh4nn @emryb @mikatanazaki @ilovespideyyy @nickishadow139

#acomaf #acotar #acotar fanfiction #azriel #azriel x you #azriel x reader #acotar fic #azriel acotar #azriel fanfic #azriel shadowsinger

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macfrog · 8 months

Text

heart, body, soul cowboy like me chapter thirteen

surprise! happy friday eve. here's some cowboy to get you through it. life has been a little tough on me lately. sorry for the terribly long wait. but the end is in sight, dear readers. tighten the stampede string on your hats. we're coming in to land.

pairing: dbf!joel x fem!reader

summary: you and joel are at an impasse. you resolve it the only way you know how

warnings: age gap (reader is 23, joel is 48), cursing, alcohol consumption, mention of dr*g use, titty appreciation, face sitting, oral (f receiving), unprotected piv, creampie, major fluff, major angst

word count: 14.4k (y’all ask. mother macfrog delivers)

series masterlist | main masterlist | playlist | follow @macfroglets w notifs on to be the first to hear when i post 🧡

You sigh. “I don’t want you…with…anyone else. I want you to…only want me.” His brows straighten. You sit in silence, staring at one another. Both daring the other to be the first to talk. But it’s his turn, and he knows it. So he swallows, and says – “I don’t want nobody else.” And that’s a thing. A great big, terrible thing.

It’s been a week since you last saw Joel. Blurred, tilting, pulling to-and-fro across your vision. A week since you last heard him; his low voice like the hum of an electric wire, tired acoustics drumming weakly through his chest into your heavy hand, laced through his own. Fingers draped softly across his swollen knuckles. You wonder if they’re still marked seven days later.

A week since you felt him. Felt your body lean towards him – gravity or dizziness or something stronger – as his weight dipped into the bed beside you. The way it has only a handful of times now, but enough to score it deep into your memory. Enough that you know the difference between him and anyone else, even with your eyes closed and your heart bleeding.

Enough to ensure that, for as long as you live, you’ll know and see each difference between him and every other person you ever meet. They won’t lower their head the way he does, or lift the corners of their mouth like him. Your name won’t sound the same, won’t sound as complete, coming from someone else’s mouth. Your body won’t magnetize to anyone, the way it does to him.

And that’s fine. The separation. The fact that he was a fleeting moment. The fact that it was over before you felt it leave, before you heard the door close behind it. It’s fucking fine.

Still, you let it hurt a while. Just a little while.

The gash on your calf has healed up, your hangover had subsided by Saturday evening. But your chest still feels tight, your hands are still restless. You lie awake staring at the ceiling, surrounded by the clothes you have of his; breathing in the ghost of his scent and breathing out pathetic, aching sighs. He’s all you smell, all you touch.

Except – he’s not anymore, is he? He saw to that well enough.

So you let it hurt. And you think you can just about make do with that.

“Hey, hon,” you dad gently calls, hanging on your doorframe. Your room is dark, drapes closed, the only light source the white light from your laptop.

“Hi,” you reply, with a break in your voice. Your eyes don’t lift from the screen. Jim just told Pam he’s in love with her, but she’s engaged to Roy. But she really loves Jim, she just won’t admit it. It’s cathartic, okay?

Dad steps into the room and awkwardly stuffs his hands into his jean pockets. “Awfully, uh…awfully quiet lately, hm? Everything okay?”

“Fine. Everything’s fine.”

It’s not a lie. You are fine. You’re so fine, you’re actually numb to it.

The problem is that for the last few weeks, you’ve been more than fine. The best you’ve felt in months – maybe even years. The most you’ve smiled, the hardest you’ve laughed. The warmest the blood has ever run through your veins.

And then you’re just – fine again. Back to nothing.

He shuffles between feet. Stares at the floor, where his shadow sprouts from his toes. “I was gonna head into town, grab a few things. You wanna come? Sit in the car with a book, maybe?”

“I’m good, Dad. Thanks.”

“Sure? Whatcha watchin’?”

“The Office.”

He nods. “Right, right. I, uh, I was thinkin’ of askin’ Joel and Sarah over for dinner tonight. You always have fun when they’re around. You and Sarah could spend some time together, y’know?”

Your heart nosedives straight from your chest into your stomach. The thought of seeing him again, this time crystal clear and not while under the influence of alcohol, drugs, or worse, sinks its sharp claws into your shoulders and sinks you deep underwater. His voice gets lost somewhere in the space between you. And when you finally come back up for air, back into the room, you gulp back whatever string of senseless words your empty chest initially offered up.

“Hm…” You pretend to consider the thought, then head straight for passive. “Whatever. Sure.”

Your dad’s mouth opens to respond, and you cut in again.

“I’m kinda tired,” you say, yawning. Trying to make him leave.

He’s not great at taking hints. “Kiddo, I am really worried about you. Weren’t you s’posed to be working this mornin’?”

“You ain’t gotta worry about me. I’m just a little tired, is all. Wasn’t feeling up to restocking tools and dealing hardwood to your buddies.”

It’s only the second truth you’ve told him since he set foot in your room. You never feel much like work, not Sal’s-fucking-Hardware-kinda work, anyway. But the thought of standing for seven hours with a bared-teeth grin plastered on your face, hands blistering from tearing open box after box of stock, shoulder slowly coming up in a bruise from the number of customers tapping on it…you figured Sal could do without you for one fucking day.

“You wanna look some more at other jobs?” Dad asks, and finally you look up. The blurry, luminous silhouette of Jim and Pam is strung in the dim air before him.

You shake your head. “Not right now. I have some bookmarked I can show you later.”

He takes a deep breath, unsure of which angle to come at you from next. Finally, with an air of resignation and defeat, he settles for, “You know where I am if you need me,” and closes your door as he leaves.

You’re staring intensely at the face of every character onscreen. The pixels burn into your eyes. You’re trying harder than anything to get him out of your head. It’s not working.

His hand through yours, his arms around you – warm, safe, protective; the way he smelled, sweet like whiskey, sharp like pine; the way he’d mumble, lips against your head, sweet nothings pressed into your hair; the feeling of his lips on yours, hungry for something only you knew how to give him. The look in his eyes, tender, knowing, loving.

And because he was the only other person fluent in your little secret language – a look, a nod, a tug at the corners of his mouth. His eyes settling on yours only for a nanosecond, one tiny moment in time laced with a thousand words that you translated as quickly as his glance moved across you. It all meant something. It all meant so fucking much.

All of it. You feel all of it as it sinks through your skin, through bone and into your brain. As it curls around your ribcage, holds tight around your heart. Every thought and feeling that flutters through on full display for him to read. And you’d let him, because it’s him. You trusted him. You – you might’ve even –

I mean, what the fuck, right? When the fuck did this happen?

Joel Miller. Joel fucking Miller.

Is this what you thought would happen that very first time you looked at him differently? Tidying up after pizza, leaning into you, telling you you’re nothin’ but trouble? Did he know then, that this was where you were headed?

Did you?

Your phone buzzes. You glance down at it through your tears.

Sarah: wtf is going on ???

You craft a reply as nonchalant as you can manage. Three little letters.

You: Wym?

Sarah: are u good??

You: Yeah lol. Why wouldn’t I be good

Sarah: idfk. weird. my dad’s on the phone to yours rn

That’s great. That’s just fucking great. He’s probably telling Joel right this second how miserable you are. That’s all you need.

You want to hold onto your pride, keep an air of casualness about you impermeable to even Sarah – but you desperately want to know what’s being said. What she’s listening to him say.

You: Yeah? What are they talking about?

Sarah: well now it’s just some andrew guy

Sarah: sounds like a loser

Sarah: we’re coming over for dinner tonight btw

You: Nice. See ya then

Sarah: u wanna come over here before? we can watch love island

You: I’m good. Gonna go for a nap

Sarah: you can nap here. come over!!!

You bury the phone under your pillow without replying. Sarah is like Joel in many ways, but her persistent nature is one avenue in which they drastically differ. Joel would – and has – give you space, let you mope; Sarah will probably text you all afternoon until she’s on your doorstep, takeout in one hand and a telling in the other.

So you drag your phone back out and put it on Do Not Disturb mode. She’s already sent two more texts since her last.

Sarah: seriously. would you come the fuck over. im only on episode 5 i gotta catch up

Sarah: even my dad is worried about you

Yeah. Good one, Joel. Fuckin’ asshole.

----------

They arrive at six on the dot, armed with pizza and a crate of beer. The doorbell rings once, you lean over a degree to glance down the hallway, and Sarah’s stepping over the threshold, her shadow of a father at her heels.

He’s rugged. Hair amok. He kinda looks a mess, sorta looks how you want him to after almost two weeks of no you. But he’s here. He’s right in front of you. And this time, the shape of him isn’t swimming across your glassy eyes.

Your heart swells with relief to see him again, only until it twinges from the wound that he caused, and it hurts all over again. You turn back in your stool to face the kitchen island, making some noncommittal noise when Sarah’s hand presses between your shoulder blades in greeting.

“Tyrique and Ella are kinda cute, but I don’t trust him. Dude’s gonna fuck her over for sure,” she mutters, shoving the box over the counter towards your dad, who accepts the beer from Joel with a pat on his arm.

He’s standing across the kitchen – Joel – as far as he can get from you. You’re sure his eyes haven’t lifted from the floor yet. But you scan him all over, from the loose collar of his shirt down to the cuffs, rolled halfway up his forearms; from the rough hair of his beard down to the soft tufts decorating the skin just below his clavicle.

You scan him all over. The body you know just as well with the flannel and jeans over it as you do without them. The body you’ve squeezed, and scratched, and bit and kissed – and the same one you’ve thrown curses and insults at as it follows you through his house.

If he looked you dead in the eye right now, you’re not sure you could look away. You’re not sure you could stop.

That is, until Sarah presses a chilled beer to your arm, startling you, and silently nods towards the dining table.

She sits on your right, opposite your dad’s seat. She resumes chittering about Love Island. Joel and your dad are still in the kitchen, stacking plates, cracking the caps off their drinks. And then he pushes off the counter, and slowly wanders over.

You watch his every move. Study him, like you’re about to be tested on it. Which foot he steps forward with – always his left – and which chair he’ll pick once he’s at the table – the one opposite you, ‘cause it faces the TV for when he and your dad watch baseball while eating.

Two for two.

He lifts the chair, pulls it back, and angles it to face Sarah’s. He places his beer gently on the mat. When he sits, he doesn’t pull in any closer. Doesn’t risk your legs crossing paths under the table. You pull your knees up, let your shins rest against the wooden ledge. Your dad takes Joel up in conversation.

“So, this Andrew. He’s the brains of the operation?”

The pizza is slowly pulled apart over the course of an excruciating hour-long meal. Sarah puts the next episode of Love Island on while you eat, points out her favorite couples and nudges you to ask your opinion on the girls’ outfits.

“Wouldn’t have gone with those heels,” she mutters, chewing, pointing with her pizza crust to some six-inch ankle-breakers.

You lean past her shoulder every now and then to pretend you’re as engaged as she is. Pretend you’re listening. Your left ear is tuned into the conversation happening across the table.

Your dad thinks Andrew Curtis is fucking hilarious. Hoots with laughter when Joel tells him about his untucked button up. Says, Oh, jeepers, when he hears about the way the guy tripped jumping down from his truck.

The storyteller doesn’t sound so lively opposite. Your dad’s slapping his thigh with laughter. Joel’s shoulders are jerking at best. You dare a glance at him, and he’s already facing your direction. He turns away before your eye reaches his chest.

Soon, the episode ends. The atmosphere dies arm in arm with your dad’s attempt at another conversation. There’s a thick silence between the four of you. You haven’t opened your mouth the entire meal, but even if you did, the tension would clamp its heavy hand over your lips, blocking any words from making their way out of your windpipe.

Sarah clears her throat, manages a tentative, “I –” and then the phone rings, piercing through the awkward mist like a bolt of lightning.

Your dad pushes himself up and trots over, grabbing the handset a little too hastily. “Hello? Oh, hi, Rita. Hi. Yeah. Yep, Joel’s – Sarah? She’s here, yep.”

Sarah’s head drops, hand gripping her glass frozen in mid-air. “Fuck,” she whispers, and Joel shoots her a look across the table.

“She’s – oh, yeah? Well, let me ask ‘er.” Your dad covers the bottom of the handset with a huge palm. “Rita has some…cross –”

“Cross stitch, yeah, I know,” Sarah says, and thuds her glass down. “I said I’d help her out with it. I bet she’s seen your damn truck across the street!” She jabs a furious finger at her dad.

Joel shrugs. “Ain’t my fault the woman has eyes.”

Your body jerks as if to laugh. You don’t catch it in time. He notices.

“She’s on her way over, Rita,” your dad continues, nervously smiling at Sarah as she pulls her jacket over her shoulder. “She’s – oh, sure, I’ll let her know. Alright, now. Bye, Rita, bye. You’ve to bring your glasses. ‘pparently the pattern’s pretty small. You even wear glasses?”

She huffs in response. “I’m gonna be there all damn night. I’ll just get you at home.”

Joel opens his mouth to protest, goes to warn her that she ain’t walkin’ home alone in the damn dark, but your dad holds his hand out.

“We’ll give you a ride home. You come back here once you’re done.”

She nods gratefully and struts off down the hallway. The door slams shut behind her.

Your dad lightly chuckles, sauntering back over to his seat. “And then there were three…” he says, sitting back down.

But the loss of Sarah only cranes the spotlight over to you. Only you. No one else to split it with. No one else to lend it to. You can feel your dad’s eyes on you, waiting for you to make a move, some song and dance for your company.

He lifts his beer to his lips. Nods to you. Makes a song and dance of his fucking own, when he says, “Guess who’s been lookin’ at grad jobs?”

Joel stares at him for a second, like he’s waiting for your dad to reveal who it is he means. Like it can’t possibly be the only she in the room. His thumbs tap around his own bottle. “Oh – yeah?” he stammers, and throws a haphazard glance in your direction. He seems to mean to address you.

You sit forward, choke out a, “Yeah, uh – it’s – well. Kinda.”

“Film?” he asks, and you hear the rest of the question in the tone of his voice. Somethin’ you like, ‘n not just your dad’s suggestion?

You nod, but he’s not looking. He’s studying the label of his beer.

“Film,” your dad confirms. “Shut me the hell up, didn’t she? Came downstairs with her laptop the other night. Where is it, kiddo – New York?”

Your breath catches. The answer cowers at the back of your mouth, terrified to show itself. You force it forward.

“LA.”

Joel’s eyebrows lift.

“I said she might be better goin’ back to school. Reapply for next year, right?” Dad looks to you, and your lips pull in an awkward smile. “…but she didn’t wanna wait around. Told you the other day – this place is like prison.”

He chuckles, but Joel isn’t laughing. He’s staring at his beer, his brows slowly lowering from arched and curious to dark and furrowed. And you want to reach for his hand, want to shoo your dad off and spill your guts to his best friend. Want to explain yourself, show him the webpages and application forms you’ve spent the last few days surfing through – want to justify yourself to him.

But so long as your father is sat here, bumbling to himself about the prices of college courses these days – none of that happens. You simply sit in a stalemate opposite one another – a million thoughts racing through your head, a million and one racing through Joel’s.

“…might change her mind, but who knows? She’s skittish, this one, she –”

Another bleating ringtone cuts what you’re sure would’ve been an endearing compliment short. You say a silent prayer of gratitude for whoever’s at the other end of the line. Your dad sighs and heaves himself up again, swiping the phone from the kitchen counter.

“Hello? Hi, hi, Richard. No, I’m not – well, it’s – sure, sure. What’s –?”

His head falls in much the same way Sarah’s did ten minutes ago. He sighs.

“Right. No, that’s quite alright. I can be there in ten. Yep. Alright. See you in a – hello?”

He drops the phone back into its cradle and runs a hand down the back of his neck, growling.

“Kelman?” Joel asks, jaw turning to his shoulder.

“You bet. Misplaced the damn keys for his site. You two alright if I head on over there ‘n lock up for ‘im?”

“He familiar with Andrew Curtis at all?” Joel quips, and then waves your dad off. “Go on. I’ll be outta your hair by the time you get back.”

In a frenzied blur, your dad’s tying his laces, grabbing his keys, tossing a jacket over his shoulders. He apologizes a total of four times to Joel, thanks him for dinner, promises he’ll pay him back next time he sees him. And then he’s jogging off to the front door, and taking every ounce of comfortability with him.

And then there were two.

You slouch back in your chair, listening through the silence as your dad’s car engine fades down the street. When the quiet humming disappears, Joel’s head turns back to face you.

You’re alone again. For the first time in a week. This is the closest you’ve felt him, even separated by the dining table and a fog of conversation that you have no idea how to begin clearing. There’s more weight to the silence between you than words could ever bear, you know that much. More to be communicated between your eyes than your tongues know the language of. But still, you can see him through it.

Like a lighthouse, shining bright and beckoning you to the shoreline. You can feel him again, as if there’s an electric pulse radiating off of him. And you feel drawn in, like you always do; feel that magnetic pull in your chest, only ever satiated by the meeting of Joel’s.

You shift in your seat. His eyes flit up. Your heart jumps, like it’s a sign he’s really still in there. And then they drop back to his lap, and your chest sews itself back together.

Your eyes start to burn with fast-forming tears. Your throat tightens, tightens, tightens, pushing them higher and higher until they pool across your waterline. Blinking doesn’t help, just drops them onto your cheeks, to be quickly swept away by the sleeve of your hoodie.

All you want is for him to look you in the eye, whisper, C’mere, baby, scoop you up and hold you in his arms forever. Fuck everything you said about the distance being good. That was when he was in his house, and you were in yours. He’s here, right now. He’s sat across from you. You’re finally on your own again. And he’s not fucking looking at you.

You let your legs down and sit up straight in your chair. It’s small, but it feels like a necessary step to silently tell him that you’re in the room with him. You’re here.

It lifts his eyes again. Not to you, but to your empty plate. Then, to the wet stain on your sleeve. You hope it stabs his heart a little.

From the shaky breath he sucks in, it seems to hurt just enough. He clears his throat. Pulls his gaze higher, higher, a little higher, until you’re eye to eye.

A wave of feeling, either burning hot or freezing cold – you can’t tell the difference – stretches across your body. It’s unnerving, and yet calming. It’s soothing on your wound, and irritating all the same. He’s looking at you. You wonder if he can see you.

You stare at one another for a few moments, drinking it all in. You can see him clear as day. You can almost see the shadows of his thoughts as they dance across the frosted-glass windows of his hazel eyes.

He blinks. Breathes in deep through his nose. And then speaks.

“LA, huh?”

You scoff. You don’t fucking mean to, but it’s the opposite of what you expected – and kind of wanted – him to say. Your whole body relaxes, though – finally relieved of the tension of the last seven days, even if only for a moment.

You feel lighter, like someone kicked the door down and this is the first gulp of clean air in your lungs. It’s small, insignificant even, but it does what it needs to.

Which is – it gives you the energy to answer back.

“It’s not a concrete plan. Yet.”

“Yet,” he repeats.

“I’m not running from you, if that’s what you’re thinking. Get your head out of your ass.”

He wants to laugh. He should’ve expected it.

“I didn’t say anythin’. I think…I think it sounds like a good plan. ‘n you’d be close by to Sarah, so.”

This conversation feels like you’ve been left alone for ten minutes with your dad’s buddy. Sanitized. Surgical. Which would’ve been what it was little over a month ago, but it’s not now. Now, it’s totally different. There’s more than just that one neat string between you.

You’ve held his hand. You’ve kissed him. You’ve touched him, in ways you’ve only ever touched a handful of people. And even then – none of those times have been anything like the way you’ve touched Joel. You’ve tasted him, you’ve felt him as he climaxes somewhere deep inside you. You’ve pulled him into your body, over and over; you’ve let him have you in ways nobody else has.

There exists a complicated, messy web of history and emotion, woven tight between you. The weight of it bears down on the surface of the dining table.

And he’s talking to you about fucking grad jobs.

“Could you just – stop fucking with me?” you ask, sincerely. You’re not angry, you’re not hurt. Not anymore.

Joel lifts his chin. Studies your face. “I’m not fucking with you.”

“Yes, you are. You’re talking to me about some job, like there’s nothing else to talk about. Like there ain’t nothin’ else we might have to discuss.”

His response is resigned. Bored, even. “What else do you wanna discuss?”

You narrow your eyes. “Oh, um, I don’t fucking know. Last week?”

Joel takes a swig of beer. You take it as reply enough.

“I don’t have any clue where you’re at, Joel. You pick me up from Frank’s, beat a dude up for me, put me to bed, ‘n then when I wake up, you’re gone. Oh, but you left your fuckin’ shirt. By accident? Or for me? Who the fuck am I to know?”

He holds back a smile. “I had work.”

“Right,” you nod, “Andrew Curtis.”

“That guy’s an idiot. You’d probably like ‘im.”

“I bet. I’m fond of idiots, apparently.”

This time, he can’t hold it back. A smirk spreads across his lips, soft and shy, but there. Right there. You could reach out and fucking touch it.

And then he nods. Leans back in his chair, folds his arms, and nods. The smile begins to fade.

With it, goes the breathing space between you. The fog starts to thicken again. The web tightens some more. Your chest begins to ache. Things feel normal for all of two minutes, and then they’re back to awkward air so heavy that you can feel it on your shoulders, feel it forcing you into a slump in your chair.

This whole thing is built on lies. Lies on top of lies on top of lies. The only truth there has ever been has been between the two of you. Two lonely figures, wrapped in each other’s arms in the eye of a storm. So –

Fuck it.

You sniff. “I thought – that the most we were risking was my dad. I thought the worst that could happen was him findin’ out.”

Your voice is quiet. Unsure of itself. One word carrying you to the next, not totally sure where you’re going with it.

“I didn’t know I was risking losing you, too, and now…now, you’re just gone. Like, you don’t wanna talk to me, you barely wanna look at me. I don’t…I don’t have you anymore, and it’s all fucked up. Do you know, I – I wouldn’ta done any of it if I thought you’d go?”

Joel flinches. Tightens the hold on his arms.

“I want you to come back,” you say, stronger this time. Louder. Clearer. You’re ignoring the tears sweeping across your vision. “Just come back. You don’t even – you don’t even have to touch me or nothin’. We can just hang out and talk, we don’t have to…we don’t have to do anything.”

Your voice wobbles by the end. Your lips tighten around it, shutting it off before you can say anything more to embarrass yourself.

Joel’s still quiet. He watches wordlessly as you stand, pile the plates atop one another and make for the kitchen. As you place them gently into the sink, you feel the weight of him behind you, reaching over to set the bottles alongside them.

“I ain’t gone anywhere,” he murmurs, and you twist to face him.

“Joel. This is the most we’ve touched in two weeks. Putting dishes in the sink.”

He repeats himself. Adds, “I’m still here. I still care about you.”

You shrug. “Then – show me.”

He steps back. “Show you,” he scoffs. Your expression doesn’t shift. “Show you? Like I didn’t just almost break my damn knuckles defendin’ you? Take you home in the dead a’ night, deal with all your drunk bickerin’?”

Your head tilts. He’s right. But you want more than that. More than spitting threats and leaving flannels behind. You want his hands, and his lips, and his voice. You want –

“…Lord, mighty me.”

Your dad’s voice follows the sudden jolt of the front door opening. You and Joel are already five feet apart by the time his body appears around the corner, one hand leaning on the wall, the other pinching the bridge of his nose.

“How on Earth that man has his own construction company, I have no idea. Called me halfway to the site ‘n said he found the keys in his damn pocket.”

“Always the scatterbrains,” Joel says, leaning casually against the counter.

“Sure is. You ‘n me oughta start our own, show ‘em all how it’s done. Anyways. What’d I miss?”

Before you can answer, Joel’s speaking again. He sounds in a hurry. “Just tidyin’ up. We were talkin’ about graduate programs, actually. You know what,” he turns to you, “I’m sure Sarah has some old brochures from UCLA. Might have some stuff worth checkin’ out. You wanna come get ‘em?”

It takes a second for you to realize he’s talking to you. His eyebrows are arched, his thumb pointing over his shoulder. He came up with the lie so damn quick, you have whiplash.

“I – yeah, sure. Yeah.”

Your dad runs his tongue between his teeth. “UCLA. Huh. Well, don’t keep Joel too late.”

“I w…I won’t,” you reply, following at the heels of the swaggering figure towards the door. You dodge his eye contact and dip your head behind Joel’s shoulder, thankful for his protective stance in front of you.

Your dad doesn’t say anything more – instead, he stands back and lets Joel lead you out. You steal a glance back at him as you slip through the door. His face unreadable, his eyes stick on Joel; locked tight on the flannel wandering down the driveway ahead of you. The word loops in your head as though the phone’s ringing again. Guilty guilty guilty guilty guilt–

But then the night breeze is dancing across your cheeks, and you’re following at the heels of Joel again, and you feel light as air in the wake of him. You climb into the passenger side of the truck and watch as he settles alongside you with a sigh. He pulls out of the drive, and his right hand sits idly on his thigh. You think to take it. Joel reads your mind.

He sits it on the armrest between you, palm facing up. You stare straight ahead and let your fingers slip through his. He knots your bodies together, thumb rubbing gently on your knuckle.

Another pound of weight lifts from your shoulders.

----------

Joel drives for twenty minutes before pulling up in an empty parking lot across from a church. It’s pitch-black and deserted. There’s a single streetlight over by the corner, illuminating a trashcan and not much else. You’re shrouded in darkness, save for the soft glow from the lights on the dash.

He switches the engine off and sits back in his seat. Your hands are separated. The distance between you slowly starts to grow again.

“LA,” he says, for the second time tonight, staring at the ceiling of the cabin.

“LA,” you echo, staring at him.

He looks down to you. Smiles. There’s something behind it. You can’t tell what.

“It’s not a grad job,” you say, forcing something up. Your fingers are twisting around the drawstring of your hoodie. “I was lookin’ at grad stuff, but there wasn’t anything I was into. The LA thing is a six-month temp job I saw.”

Joel nods. “What’s that look like?”

“Production assistant. Lots of behind-the-scenes stuff.”

“Mhm. Sounds like your thing.”

Your brows jump as you pull the tie around your finger. The tip turns white. “Might be. Job ad closes on Monday.”

He sucks in a breath. “Better get applyin’, then.”

Your head cocks. “So eager for me to go?”

“Eager for you to do somethin’ you love,” he corrects.

“But it would get me outta your hair.”

“I don’t want you outta my hair.”

A smirk sneaks its way across your lips. You nod to the view from the windshield. “Why are we way the hell out here?”

“Because your dad bombed our conversation, ‘n I figured we weren’t done.”

“Then talk.”

He licks his lips. Folds his arms, settles deeper into his seat. He turns a little more to face you. The single light from outside catches in his iris, like that same lighthouse beacon you could see earlier. Distant, far off, but there. Still there.

“I owe you an apology,” he says. “I…I thought what we were doin’…What I was doin’…I thought I was causing you more hurt ‘n harm than good. I was scared it’d gone too far. Scared it wasn’t okay anymore.”

“Was it ever okay?”

He shifts again, uncomfortably. In the dim light, you see his face pull. He squints, wobbles his head in consideration. “No. It wasn’t. But we did it anyways, you ‘n me. We made that decision together.”

“Right. And then you went and made the complete opposite decision, alone.”

He’s nodding. He knows. And you think you know, too. It fucking sucked, losing him – but you get it. What was the big plan? How far were you going to let it go? Someone had to pull the plug at some point. Someone had to cut the thing loose.

You lean closer to him. “I just…I wish you’d let me fight back a little. Wish you’d heard me out more. I know what we’ve done isn’t right. I know that. But I – I fucking –”

You sigh. It leaves your mouth shaky and unsure of itself.

There’s something more. Something at the back of your tongue, itching to separate into the dense space between you. Bigger. Stronger. Heavier.

“I missed you,” you concede, shaking your head. “That’s all.”

Joel’s eyes fall shut with a wince when you say it, like it physically hurts to hear the words come out of your mouth. But he’s clearer, now – the fog is slowly shrinking away. The words behind his eyes seem to light them in a warm glow. Missed you too, baby.

His hand opens up on the armrest again. Yours falls into it instantly.

He clears his throat then, and says, “Also owe you an apology for – for the Lois thing. I know I should’ve explained a lot sooner, ‘n I’m sorry I had you thinkin’ what you were thinkin’. I didn’t – I didn’t know it was such a big deal to you. Thought you’d know I wouldn’t…do that.”

“I think I did,” you tell him. Your nails run up and down his fingers. “Deep down. Wasn’t so much about her as it was about me.”

“About you?”

You shrug. “Yeah. Me, us, this. It was more of a, Why wouldn’t he want someone like her?, y’know? No lying, no secrets. And she’s old, like you.”

“Easy.”

You smile. “She’s nice. I know she is. My dad went on for five whole minutes about how good you’d be together when I asked ‘im. So – why wouldn’t you wanna be with her, right?”

It’s rhetorical. Joel knows. But he answers it anyways.

“She is nice,” he agrees, “but I ain’t interested. To tell you the truth, darlin’, I was a little preoccupied worrying my ass off about you to even look twice at the woman.”

You freeze for a second. Stare at the outline of his jaw, the jagged bristles of his beard; the soft sweep of hair silhouetted by the moonlight outside. He’s still Joel – even in the darkness, even in the fog. Even when you can’t see, hear, or touch him – he’s still there. Thinking about you. Worrying about you.

“Well,” you sniff, “you don’t gotta worry anymore. I just…I didn’t like the thought of it.”

His head tilts. Beckons you to continue.

You sigh. “I don’t want you…with…anyone else. I want you to…only want me.”

His brows straighten. You sit in silence, staring at one another. Both daring the other to be the first to talk. But it’s his turn, and he knows it. So he swallows, and says –

“I don’t want nobody else.”

And that’s a thing. A great big, terrible thing.

“But,” he continues, almost immediately, “this has gotta be – I’ve gotta do right by you. Gotta be honest, now –”

“Wait,” you interrupt, “can you just – stop acting like it’s all you?”

Joel falls quiet. His brows knit together.

“Stop saying things that make it sound like you’re the only one in this. I’m in it, too. I want it. I want you.”

“Baby, it’s not as simple as –”

“Joel,” you take his arms and pull yourself closer to him, legs propped against the center console, “I want you. This. I want us. All of it, I want all –”

Your body is being tugged closer to him, lifted nearer, and his chin bumps against yours, and his eyelashes almost brush against yours when your foreheads link, and his breath sweeps hot and needy across yours, and he – he kisses you.

You stop breathing. You don’t care whether or not it ever comes back. Oxygen replaced by him. Everything replaced by him.

His tongue slips past your lips, his hand glides across your hair to cup the back of your head. He locks you into his body, lets you rest your arms across his shoulders. Your lips find a rhythm against one another; warm, wet, tender.

His free hand cups your cheek, holds your mouth to his just a second longer, before he pulls away, and gives you one last kiss. Softest of them all. Seals the fucking deal.

“We okay?” he mumbles, and you lift your head from his palm. You sit frozen for a second, just looking at him. Looking and looking and looking.

“We’re good.”

He smiles then. A genuine smile. “I thought,” he whispers, glancing around the quiet parking lot, “I could take you on a date.”

So that’s why he brought you out here.

“A date?”

“Mhm. Never been on one, have we?”

“Never could.”

He nods in agreement. “Just ice cream. For now. Thought I’d show you some of my moves.”

“You got moves?” you snicker.

“I’m a catch, darlin’. The ladies swoon for me.”

“Alright, never say that to me again.”

Joel laughs. “There’s a place right around the corner. ‘s go.”

He climbs out of the truck and wanders off towards the sidewalk, and you follow. He looks down at you as you walk. His cheeks swell with the smile on his face, dimples at the edges of his lips.

It’s quiet; quieter than you’d expect, not that you’re complaining. With the sun almost set, you’re doused in light only when you wander under a streetlight. So, it’s no surprise when Joel’s eyes quickly scan the street up ahead, and his hand reaches down for yours.

Your stomach flips. You’re doing everything you can not to let him feel your pulse in your wrist, but you’re pretty sure you can, because he leans his shoulder against yours and asks if you’re okay.

“Good,” you choke out, relieved to have just passed a streetlight that might give away the blush on your cheeks.

Approaching on the right is a sickly-sweet, pastel-painted store front; fairy lights decorating the window, wireframe tables and chairs dotted outside. A bell dings when Joel pushes the door open, holding it open for you to step inside.

It’s…dainty. Sweet. Everything is either teal or pink or white. There’s a giant ice cream cone stood in the corner. There’s a gumball machine opposite it. The lighting is a little garish – kind of reminds you of sitting in the dentist chair, eyes squinting up at the bright white light overhead.

You’re fucking surprised to be stood in here with Joel Miller, of all people. He sticks out like a sore thumb; his worn jeans and crumpled flannel against the minty gleam of the parlor like an earthy tree sprouting in the middle of that same dentist’s office. It makes you giggle, as he leads you over to the counter.

A boy with a teal uniform meets him over a glass case full of different ice cream flavors. His name badge reads Ben. “What can I get you?” he asks, scoop in hand. Your lips press against one another to stop your laugh from escaping.

Joel turns to look at you. He nudges you with his elbow when you don’t return his glance, too focused on Ben’s pink baseball cap, the logo of the shop printed on top.

“Uh,” you consider, glancing down, “I’m good with any.”

Joel sighs, lips thinning. “Am I gonna pick a flavor, ‘n then you decide you don’t like it?”

“Nope. Promise.” You smile innocently, and he turns back to the server.

“I’ll take one scoop of the cookie dough, and, uh…one of the coffee, please.”

When Ben dips to scoop the order into two little tubs, you mock gasp at Joel.

“What?”

“Coffee?”

He shrugs.

“I took you for a vanilla man.”

Ben stands straight and punches some numbers into the cash register. Joel hands him a ten.

“What about me makes you think I’m into vanilla?” he asks in a low voice.

You bat your eyelashes at him. A dark thought crosses your mind, but you think better of voicing it and save Ben the embarrassment of potentially hearing you.

Joel thanks him and takes both tubs in one hand. You make for a booth by the window, but his hand quickly slinks around your waist, diverting you back to the door.

“Nuh-uh.”

“What?” you ask, spinning around.

Joel continues walking, backing you out of the shop. “I am not sittin’ in here. Got a fuckin’ headache already from five minutes in the place.”

“But it’s so cute,” you protest, giggling. “You don’t want your picture taken with the giant cone?”

“Get the hell out,” he mumbles, shoving you across the tiled floor back out to the sidewalk. He can’t mask his own grin, spilling out behind you, taking your hand in his.

You snort as he drags you back along the street. “Maybe I should forget about LA and get a job in there. Drive myself insane.”

“Maybe you should,” Joel agrees. “Least then you’d have an excuse for it.”

You slap his chest. “Where are we goin’?”

“’s just go back to the truck. Quieter. Less fluorescent lights.”

He unlocks it a few paces away, but you stroll past your door.

“What are you doin’?” Joel asks when you pull yourself up into the bed.

“C’mon,” you call back, settling against the back window, “it’s a nice night. Who are we hiding from?”

He tosses it over in his head and cocks one eyebrow. Fair enough. He climbs up and passes you the ice cream, shrugging his shirt from his shoulders. He throws it over your bare legs and sits down beside you, grunting as he does.

You smirk when he rests back.

“I’m almost fifty, darlin’,” he warns, reaching for his tub.

Your lips curve and you nod, digging the little plastic spoon into your dessert. You stretch your legs out and cross your ankles, watching in quiet contentment as the cars roll by, squealing to a halt at the traffic lights. Lights are coming on in windows, curtains are being drawn. Joel’s legs lie against yours, joined at the hip, shoulders brushing off one another.

This is the most peace you’ve had in a fortnight. Sat in the back of his truck, no eyes on you, watching the comings and goings of some back street in the city. You talk about nothing, for the first time in what’s felt like forever. You talk about films, and music, and all the stuff that seemed so unimportant before. Now, it all feels imperative. Feels like a life-or-death thing. What’s your favorite movie? You know my favorite movie, baby. But tell me again. Just so I know for sure. Just so that – if anything happens.

You listen when he answers. You watch his mouth as he says the words. For all the times you took it for granted before. For all the times you thought it was insignificant. It’s all significant, now. It all means something. It’s just more strings to the web between you, each one knotting you closer and closer together.

And you talk about what you’ve missed. The two weeks you’ve spent apart. You catch him up as if he was only gone on vacation. As if he was always meant to come back in the end.

“The guy with the weed – same guy you punched – he was –” gulp, “– what was his name again? Knicks? No –”

Joel snorts, spoon scraping around the edge the tiny pot in his huge hand. “Knicks?”

You close your eyes, waving your hand like it’ll urge him to remember the name of a guy he took no time getting to know before he floored him. “No, it wasn’t Kn…Knox! It was Knox, and he –”

“Kind of a fuckin’ name is Knox? Knox?”

“Are you gonna let me talk, or what?” you quip, and Joel brings his wrist up to his mouth to mask his laugh.

“Sorry, sorry, sweetheart. Go ahead. Knox had the weed.”

“Knox had the weed, and…he…Fuck, I can’t even remember where I was goin’ with that.” You shake your head and lean it back against the windowpane.

He laughs. For real. A Joel laugh. His shoulders jerk with the force of it. “You were gonna tell me about his friends, I think. Somethin’ about his friends.”

It sparks back up in your brain – the memory. “Right! Right. His friends – that dude with the glasses? That was Zack.”

Joel stares at you blankly, tongue in his cheek. “Zack?”

“Big guy, red face. Buck teeth. From Costco?”

His jaw slackens. He remembers. “I fuckin’ – I knew I’d seen that kid’s face before. That was him?”

You nod. Uhuh.

“Damn.” He chuckles. “He looked at me like I was a wild bear.”

You toss your head, roll your eyes. “Well.”

He laughs again. Knocks your legs with his own.

“Good call, by the way,” your lips mumble around the shape of your spoon, “cookie dough. it’s nice.”

“Wanna try mine?”

“Really?” Your face contorts, eyes screwing. “Coffee?”

“’s good. Here.”

He holds out a spoonful.

“Yeah, nice to you, who drinks, like, thirty of ‘em a day.”

Joel responds by pushing the spoon to your lips and you oblige, opening up and letting him feed you the ice cream.

It’s not bad. It’s ice cream, it can’t be bad. But it definitely isn’t good, and the way your lips purse and your neck jerks lets Joel know exactly how you feel about it. He scoffs, wiping a little from your lips with his thumb and sucking it clean.

“You don’t like it?”

“Why is it…bitter? Eugh.”

He laughs to himself as he loads up another spoonful. “It’s an acquired taste.”

“Well, I am not interested in acquirin’ it. You want some of the cookie dough?”

He shakes his head. “You enjoy.”

You both turn back to the street ahead. Joel’s arm is warm at the side of yours, his shoulder right there for you to lean your head on.

He places a kiss to your head when you do.

“What do you think he’d do if he found out?”

You’re not sure where it comes from. Neither is Joel, apparently, from the way he clears his throat and squirms ever so slightly. He knows exactly who you mean.

“I, uh…I don’t like to imagine.”

“It scare you?”

He takes a deep breath. “Naw. I just got better things to do with my imagination, is all.” He prods your arm with his. Picturin’ you.

“Ha. You reckon he’d kill you?”

“Probably.”

“He couldn’t kill you. Wild bear.”

“Well, I reckon he might try.”

“I think he’d call the cops.”

Joel’s head lifts from yours and falls back against the truck with a laugh.

“Help, Officer,” you mimic your dad’s twang,“my grown adult daughter is sleeping with someone!”

Joel’s shoulders slowly stop moving.

“Is that all we’re doin’?” he asks.

“Huh?” You lift your head and look at him. His dark eyes reflect the city lights in the distance.

“Is that all we’re doin’? Sleepin’ together?” His voice is gentle, honest. Genuinely asking, seeking out what you think.

You consider it, tryna sound casual. You know what he’s getting at.

“That’s all we’ve been doin’. Help, Officer, my daughter’s grabbing ice cream with someone? Better?”

He hums. Looks down at the empty tub in his hands. Looks back up to your lips. Draws nearer to you, holds your chin with one finger, looks you dead in the eye, and whispers,

“How about, Help, Officer, my daughter made someone fall in love with her?”

Your breath catches. Your hands fall limp into your lap. You blink away tears.

“You – No, that’s – You gotta say it. You gotta actually tell me, ‘cause I’m not – I don’t wanna misinterpret – We haven’t –”

You’re buffering. Your brain malfunctioning. Your tongue can’t decide which of the words at the back of your throat, all desperate to escape, to let through first.

Joel’s just smiling, watching you stutter and stammer your way through a sentence that leads you nowhere, desperately trying to compute what he’s just said because he’s finally fucking admitted it. He’s finally letting you know, giving you access to a part of him he’s been keeping from you for who knows how long.

Even though all this time it’s been the one thought running through your head that hasn’t passed your lips, it reverberates around your ears like it’s the last thing you ever expected him to say.

Joel’s hand moves to your neck, just below your ear. “Baby,” his thumb rubs your skin, “you know I love you.”

A gasp flees from your lips. Your ice cream is thrown to the truck bed, probably spilling over, and you don’t care. You leap into his lap, arms around his neck, and kiss him all over.

Joel’s laughing, returning what kisses he can, squeezing you with his big hands.

“I love you,” he says again when you come up for air, and it’s the most beautiful thing you’ve ever heard in your life. You sit your forehead against his, whispering breathlessly,

“Fuck, I love you, too.”

You two stare at each other, eyes scanning every part of the other’s face, mapping every mark, line, scar, like it’s the first time you’ve ever seen each other.

Guess it is, right?

This is the first time you’re looking at the man you love and you’re not afraid of it. The first time your chest swells and you don’t gulp it back, the first time you let him feel your heart pounding against the wall of your chest.

It’s the first time you look into his eyes, dark eyelashes and fine lines decorating deep warm brown, and think those three words…and know you can say them. Know neither of you will be spooked, neither of you will try to push them back down where they came from.

I love you. That’s all there is between you now. Your cards are flat on the table, Joel’s, too. Game over. You know everything there is to know about each other. You know each other.

You’ve sunk down his body, turned so your back curves into his chest, his chin resting on your head. Safely encased in his body, sat between his thighs. His hand runs up and down your thigh, lighting drawing lines and circles and writing words you don’t care to guess, ‘cause you probably already know ‘em.

Love hums between the two of you, keeping you warm; your bodies pressed together, hearts beating just inches apart. You blink your eyes open and the single streetlight sails back into your vision – bright as the moon, stirring you from your tranquil bliss.

“Do you,” you turn, and Joel fixes your hair, presses his lips to your forehead, “do you tell all the girls that on the first date? Was that just one of your moves?”

He snorts, and answers by pulling you in to give you a tender kiss.

No. Just you.

“You ready to go?” he asks when your lips part.

“Mhm. Take me home, cowboy.”

----------

His house is dark against the dusky sky. The headlights illuminate the garage door as he pulls up in the drive, squeezing your hand once as the truck comes to a halt.

“And then…” Joel says, holding a finger up to you. Wait right here.

He gets out of the driver’s side and you watch the shadow of him jog around the truck, stopping at your door. He opens it, and holds a hand out for you to take.

You choke on a laugh. “That is…”

“That is what?”

“…so cheesy. You really do that?”

“Uhuh. C’mon.”

Your fingers lace through his and you hop out of the truck. Joel shuts the door behind you and extends his elbow, and you link your arm through his. His hand warmly rests on top of yours.

You both wander over to his porch where he stops, letting you walk up the steps alone. When you reach the top one, only just taller than him on the path, hands still interlinked, you look down.

“Then I say, Thank you for a lovely evenin’, and,” he lifts your hand, pressing his lips to your knuckles, “then…” Joel holds his arms out. Voila. Just like that.

“Wow. I feel…honored.”

“You should.”

“Not even a proper kiss?”

“I just kissed your hand, baby. You didn’t like that?”

“You don’t ask to come inside?”

He scoffs. “Nope. What would I want to come inside for?”

You grin. Shrug your shoulders. Start walking backward to his door.

“Well, I am exhausted after our date, Mr. Miller. I do think,” yawn, “I should be gettin’ ready for bed.”

Joel lowers his head, eyes trained on you, smirk growing on his lips. “Is that so?”

You nod.

He starts to climb the steps.

“I’m sure I’ll be expectin’ a call from you,” you mewl, exaggerated Southern accent crooning to him. Your back bumps against the front door. Joel’s on the porch now. You bite your lip.

“Oh, I’m sure you will,” he returns, his shadow creeping over you. He reaches your body and his arms come to rest on the frame right above your head.

You hook your hands around his shoulders.

“You really don’t wanna come in?” you whisper, and his jaw ticks.

“I wouldn’t want to be ungentlemanly.”

Leaning in, lips against his ear, you whisper soft enough to shake the breath as it falls from his lips.

“And what if I asked you, nicely, to take me inside and fuck me good ‘n hard until I can’t walk?”

Joel’s eyes pool black when you lean away, head resting back on his door. Your gaze is heavy with lust, eyelashes batting slowly.

“Hm,” he grumbles, body beginning to press against yours. His head cocks. “You don’t wanna be treated like a lady?”

“Nope.” You smirk, hand falling down to cup the bulge quickly forming below his belt.

“Want to be treated like a fuckin’ whore, do ya?”

Chest heaving, you nod, massaging him.

“So dirty, darlin’, feelin’ your date up on the porch,” he tells you, dipping his jaw to run his lips along your neck. “What ‘m I gonna do with you?”

You shrug again, and your fingers find the door handle at your hip. You push, and the wood behind you falls inward.

As you plunge into the dark house, Joel’s rough hands clamp down on your waist, taking you in his tight grip and throwing you against the wall. His lips find your neck, teeth scraping the sensitive skin, tongue caressing tenderly as he sucks a bruise into you. Heat spreads across your core. You clench your thighs around the feeling.

“Joel,” you whine, hands surfing through his hair. “Fuck, take me upstairs.”

He hums. He’s going to. He’s just not doing it quick enough.

You lift your leg to his hip, and his left hand scoops under your ass. He pulls your center flat against the swelling in his jeans, ruts slowly against your body. You hear a deep groan from his throat.

“Upstairs,” you say again, growing impatient, and he growls, taking you with both hands and lifting you two steps at a time towards his bedroom.

He kicks the door open, loosening his grip on you as he walks over to the bed. Light streams across the room in splinters, peering through the shades from the streetlights outside. Your legs drop and you dance along on your toes, turning him midway until his calves hit the bottom of his mattress.

Your lips part for mere seconds, allowing one reflected expression between you, before you’re pushing him by the chest onto the bed. His body springs when he hits the sheets, staring back up at yours between his legs. His breath courses from his mouth, thick with want and need.

You lay him flat on the mattress, knees either side of his waist, hands curved over his shoulders. His own find your waist, holding on tight as you straddle him, playing with the tie of your shorts when you settle.

You dip your head and brush your lips against his. One long, sweet kiss, and his hands are at the hem of your hoodie, pulling it free, lifting it over your head. You groan as it separates your bodies, let your tongue find his again as quickly as it was pulled apart from it.

“Let me see,” he whispers against your lips, hands slipping beneath the fabric of your shorts to rub circles into your hipbones.

You smile as you straighten, fingers dancing along the hem of your tee.

“Let me – see,” Joel grunts, when your core grinds into his.

You peel the tight fabric from your stomach, higher, higher, until it lifts your breasts, catching on the curve of them, and as you whip it over your head, they bounce back down. Joel groans from below, staring at the perfect peaked shape. He lifts one hand to cup your tit, runs his thumb over the quickly-hardening nipple.

“So fuckin’ pretty, baby.”

“I know,” you tell him, watching as his thumbpad circles the delicate skin. Your back arches into his touch.

And then his hands sink into the mattress either side of his body, pushing himself closer to you. He wraps a strong arm around your back and pulls your chest to his mouth, lips pressing wet kisses to the valley between your breasts. His teeth graze across the round shape up towards your nipple again.

His tongue slips over the hard bud, swirling and soaking all over it. Your head falls back, fingers grip onto his hair. Your mouth falls open, but no sound comes. Joel sucks harder.

“S– fuck,” you whisper, nearly voiceless. His tongue is flicking now, lips pulling more of your body into his mouth. “Fuckfuckfuck, I need you, I need you,” you whimper.

He releases your sweet skin, lips shining with saliva. “Tell me where.”

You writhe on top of him, hands pushing your shorts down over your hips. “You know where.”

Joel holds your body steady. “Tell me.”

You whine, trying to rock against him. He doesn’t let up. “Joel, fuck. Betw– between my – fuck.”

“Between your legs?” he taunts, pushing you harder against the hard folds of denim below his belt. “That where you need me? Between those pretty legs, babygirl?”

Your fists ball around the fabric of his shirt, clinging on to him. “Ye-ah,” you whimper, and his weight falls from your grasp.

You feel your shorts tug over the crests of bone by your hips. “Step out of ‘em, baby,” he instructs, and your knee lifts.

He pulls the cotton down one leg at a time, telling you to shift your weight as he curls a finger around the lace of your panties and tugs them down after. Before you can think about it, you’re naked, soaked cunt making a mess over the crotch of his jeans.

He looks up at you expectantly.

“What–?”

He flicks his fingers in a beckoning motion, a Come here, either side of your thighs. You hesitate.

“Darlin’. Up.”

“Joel.”

“Up.”

You take his open hands and shuffle up the mattress, knees pushing into the soft sheets either side of his head. You glance down at him.

“I don’t know –”

“’m not gonna tell you again.”

And he doesn’t have to. You steady yourself, locking your fingers through his behind your ass, and slowly lower yourself down to him. His jaw lifts to meet you, and you think about pausing again, telling him he doesn’t have to do this, asking instead to do something else, something he’ll enjoy as much, something you can both –

But then his lips open around the sweetest part of your body, and your lungs freeze. His tongue slips between, daring where you need him most, and your body sighs in equal parts relief and pleasure.

You’re so fucking wet. You can feel it, leaking onto his lips, spreading around your own as he kisses you, licks you, takes in every drop of you. Your back curls, lips fall open to the ceiling, breath comes in short wisps.

It’s been almost two weeks since the two of you felt like this. Hot, wet, needy. Two weeks of waiting for the other to come back, two weeks of reaching for the phone and deciding against it once the number’s dialed, two weeks of nothing.

And now – everything. Everywhere. Every part of your body ignited for him. You feel him fucking everywhere.

You lean all of your weight onto the palm of your hands, pushing all of it into Joel’s. He’s steady, strong, letting you rock and swirl your hips as he laps at your core.

“Right there,” you whisper, head rolling back. “Keep – keep – oh, fuck, Joel. What the f–?”

He slowly lowers his hands, letting you untangle your fingers and place them on the bed. His own come to hook around your thighs, clamping you as close against him as you can possibly be.

Two weeks of nothing. And now, five minutes of everything. The shards of light from outside blur across your vision; heat starts to prickle up your spine, tickling the back of your neck. You’re smiling, filthy and desperate.

“I’m gonna –” you breathe, and Joel hums. “’m gonna c– come.”

You can hear his response, though he doesn’t say a word. Then, come.

Your hips motion forward. Tighten. Clamp. Inhale. Joel’s tongue slips between your folds, warm on the inside of your cunt. And you rock back. Unwind. Unfurl. Exhale. His bottom lip puckers against your clit.

“J-oel. Joel, I’m – you’re – fuck.”

He moans against your sex. His hips shift behind you. Buck upwards, carefully.

Tighten. Clamp. Inhale. Tighten – inhale. Unwind. Unf-url. Ex-hale. Tighten. Inh– clamp. Fuck. I’m there. Unwind. Warm. Wet. Tongue. Exhale. Tongue. Tighten. Clamp. Inhale. Joel –

Your fingers curl around his bedsheets, nails dig into the cotton. Your orgasm sends a flood of hot pleasure across your cunt, rains down over Joel’s lips, and sets fireworks off through your body which explode into the dark room in the form of a throaty moan.

You’re not sure when you come to. You’re not sure your arms can bear the weight of your body. But when your eyes blink open, he’s kissing the inside of your thighs.

His mouth is glistening. Moustache and beard covered in you. Soft lips pearlescent with your spend. Your body feels heavy, unbearable. You lift your leg and tumble onto the mattress by his side, pussy throbbing when you land.

“I love you,” you whisper, and not for any particular reason. Not because of what he just did. Not because you’re naked in his bed.

But maybe because it feels like this is what you were made to do. To love and to be loved – by him. It feels like this entire thing has been, from its genesis, an exchange. An understanding. Immediate and certain. Here are all the parts of me. You know what to do.

As if there needed no further explanation. No instruction, no tutorial. You just knew.

He pushes himself up, leans over your frame. His jaw lowers, and he licks into your mouth tenderly.

“Gotta be inside you, baby,” he says, and at the same time, your fingers find the buttons of his shirt. “Gotta feel you again.”

You nod against him. Fuck me fuck me fuck me.

Joel’s hands are on his belt, pulling it through the loops, dropping it to the floor. Your help him tug his jeans off when he undoes the button. The material of his underwear rubs against your sex; your creamy arousal smears all over the black fabric. You can feel the weight of his stiff cock beneath. It dizzies your head.

He lets your fingers sneak below the elastic, lowering it until he springs free, slapping against the bottom of his tummy. You could fucking drool at the sight of him – the pink tip, beaded with precum; the thick vein on the underside of the shaft; his balls below it, heavy and waiting. Your hands wrap around him and pump slowly as he drags his boxers down, kicking them off at the foot of the bed.

He groans, hips thrusting gently into your palms as you squeeze him. Your fingers slip between your folds, collecting your own slick, coating him in it as you fist him.

“So good, babygirl,” Joel breathes, leaning down to kiss you. “You gonna take it all?”

“Mhm,” you reply, tongue slipping against his.

“Yeah,” he says, “my girl can take it.”

You let his hand shadow over yours, the two of you guiding his cock towards your entrance together. It glides between your dripping folds, the head sifting effortlessly from your clit to your tight hole and back again. Joel laughs, teeth clashing with yours, as he dips in and out, teasing you.

Your ass lifts from the mattress, any movement to draw him nearer. “Stop,” you gasp.

Joel pauses. “Stop?”

“No,” you bleat, “don’t stop. Just – fucking do it.”

“Do what, darlin’?”

“Fuck me.”

And he sinks in.

You’d be lying if you said all you’d done for the last two weeks was cry, mope, and stare at the ceiling. That’d be discrediting everything that this little affair was built on. It’s impossible to forget how the thing fucking started – your hands between your legs, Joel watching from the doorway.

In the moments you didn’t feel the mind-numbing tsunami of heartache overcome you – you felt something else. Memories of his hands on you, the trail of his tongue between your legs, the swell of his cock deep inside you. You tried to replicate it a handful of times with your hands. But nothing – not your fingers, not two, three, or four – nothing stands a chance against him.

He pushes in slow at first, drawing out when he’s halfway, and then in again as he covers himself in the wet his tongue left behind. When he’s soaked, glistening and gleaming, he thrusts. Hard. His tip catches on your cervix, and your back arches in a mix of pain and delight.

Something throbs deep inside as he bottoms out. You feel your opening stretch around his base. You feel your legs widen as if by instinct, accommodating the size of him, the width of him, the pace of him.

You throw an arm over his shoulder, elbow hanging on the nape of his neck. His sweaty forehead sticks to yours, and your hand cups his cheek.

“Harder,” you tell him, and he listens.

“Fuck, baby,” he pants, “fuck, you’re so tight. Oh, my – I ain’t gonna last.”

“Don’t – want you – to,” you cry, body jumping as he fucks you quicker, quicker, harder, deeper. “Want to – come – together.”

Your head tips back against the bed, and Joel’s lips attach to your neck. He’s moaning into your skin, teeth biting down, breath hot and quick. He’s not gonna last he’s not gonna last he’s not –

“F-u-ck, Joel,” you sob, your walls starting to close in around him, “feels so – f-fucking good, oh!”

“I know, darlin’, I know. C’mere.”

He takes your cheek and pulls your face back to his, lines his lips with yours and kisses you. It’s messy, haggard, fucking all over the place as your bodies bounce together, but he tastes like sweat, and sex, and you, and him.

“Missed this so fuckin’ much,” he grunts, hips pounding. “Missed bein’ inside you. You know how bad I needed you?”

“Tell me,” you slur, echoing his own words back to him.

He smirks. “Best fucking pussy I ever had, sweetheart. Best – I ever – had.”

“Don’t pull out,” you hum against his lips, and his jaw pulls back a fraction. “Don’t.”

“Baby,” he says, strained, and your head tilts.

“Need it,” you tell him. “Please. Need you.”

He nods, leaning back into you, letting you connect your mouths again. His lips shudder when you pull away, the thought translated clear as day from your mouth to his. And he knows, and he drives in harder, and he fucks the image from your mind. Who the fuck is Lois, when you’re under him and he’s this deep between your legs?

You look up into his eyes, and you find your answer. She’s nobody. There’s only you.

Your body feels liquid, your mind like fog. You pull him into your body, deeper and deeper, until you’re sure you’re one, and there is no place where he ends and you begin, and you’re sure this is what it feels like, this is what those words feel like, not just the sound of them, not just the way his lips move around them, but the shape of them on and in and around your body. Something deafening, something blinding, something screaming from the pits of your lungs as you come all around him, and you feel him come all around you.

His warmth spurts deep inside you, filling you up, dripping down your walls as he collapses into your shoulder, a loud moan drilling into your collarbone. He slows, thrusts in and out gently, pushing his spend deeper and mixing it with yours.

It's everywhere. The feeling. The pulsing, the humming, the singing. He’s everywhere. Him. In your brain and in your lungs and in your body and in your cunt. And you want to keep him there, hold him there, keep your bodies together for five more minutes, just five more minutes.

But then he’s panting into your skin, pressing kisses into that little dip between your collarbone and your chest, and he slowly slips out, come dripping from where he leaves.

He presses his palm deep into the sheets by your head, lifts off of you – but your arm is still around his neck, and you lean with him. Tilted on his mattress, holding onto him, letting him kiss your head; letting his hand move across the surface of your stomach, mapping the gentle slope over your belly button and scaling the tiny mountains of your hipbones. Kneading softly into the skin over which his seed sits, warm and snug, deep inside you. It’s new. You think you love it.

And he’s whispering, “Good girl, did so good for me,” and he nuzzles his nose into your hair, and he tilts your chin back until he can see your face, see your expression, and he smiles with relief when he clocks your doe eyes, your blissful smile, the sweet tinge of red on your cheeks.

“I love you,” he tells you, and you’re staring at his lips.

“Again.”

“I love you.”

You look up to his eyes. “Again.”

“I love you.”

You smile. It breaks into a laugh. “Again,” you whisper, and he kisses you.

Slowly, only once you pull away from him and your breath steadies, Joel takes your body and carefully shifts. He turns onto his back, settles you on his chest, your hips between his thighs. He runs a gentle hand over your hair and you lie against his sweat-shining chest, his heartbeat whispering sweet nothings into your ear.

Love and sex, as far as you knew, were always two different things. Separate. One, you weren’t even sure existed. The other, nothing more than a need to be satisfied. Something deep within you, something no one had ever managed to touch. And then Joel. And his lips, and his tongue, and his hands and his cock.

And suddenly the two – love and sex – begin to blur, their edges touch frantically. They bleed into one another, until there are no longer two distinct forms; instead, one big shape which has the curve of your hips and the cut of his jaw.

You love him. And he loves you. You’ve heard it translated between your minds longer than you care to admit, and now – you’ve felt it. Transferred between your bodies. You love him. Jesus, you love him.

It’s as terrifying as it is thrilling. Enamoring, and yet dangerous.

“So,” you sigh, “what’s next?”

He glances down, lifts his eyebrows and gives his head a shake. His hand lifts off of your shoulder with a shrug.

“Like, your next move. What happened with the other eight?”

“The other eight?”

“Mhm. Me, Sarah’s mom, makes two. There are eight others, right? What’d you do afterward?”

“Kicked ‘em out.”

You lift a heavy hand and slap his chest. He shudders with laughter.

“I dunno, baby. Wasn’t all like this.”

Your brows knit. “Like what?”

He takes a deep breath. Your head rises as his lungs fill. “Lyin’ in bed afterward. Talkin’.”

“Oh, fuck off.”

“What?” he asks, smirking.

“Who even were they? I wanna know.”

“Why?”

“Just do. I wanna hear about ‘em. When was the last one, before me?”

Joel’s eyes drift off to the ceiling above you, thinking. “May.”

“M–?” You jump up, pushing yourself off of his body. “May?” you repeat, eyes wide. “That’s…so recent.”

“Recent?” He chokes back a laugh. “When’s your last?”

You furrow your brows, dropping his gaze. “We’re not talking about me,” you mumble, thumbs twiddling.

Your last had been two nights before you flew home. You’d gone out with your roommates and dragged home Matteo, an exchange student who you’d worked with on a group project for your screenwriting class. He was three inches shorter than you. He bent you over your kitchen counter and fucked you until he came. Then he made himself some cereal, ate half of it, and left.

Joel doesn’t really need to hear about him, you think.

“Do I know any of them?” you ask in attempt to change the subject.

Joel pulls a face. His lips tighten, teeth clench. His eyes narrow to a thin line, looking at you through his eyelashes. He nods tentatively.

“Shut the fuck up. Who is it? Who?”

“I dunno if you know her, but she knows you.”

“What’s her name?”

“Your dad gave us a ride home from the bar. She ‘n him got to talkin’, and he said he had a daughter –”

Your fist lightly drops onto his chest. “Joel, if you don’t fucking tell me who it is, I –”

“She’s an elementary teacher. Long, dark hair. Good few years older ‘n you. Think she said her little sister went to your school.”

“Who – was – it?”

He makes the face again. This time his eyes close over, waiting for the penny to drop. His head shakes lightly.

“You –? No, Joel. Come on. Please don’t…Are you fucking serious? You don’t remember her name?”

“It was a long night, alright?”

“How did you forget her damn name?”

He shrugs. “I don’t fuckin’ know. I was drunk, baby.”

“Elementary teacher? I don’t know anybody whose sister teaches elementary.”

“Guess we’ll never know.” Joel shrugs, and you shake your head at him.

You’re picturing Joel stumbling out of Frank’s, arm in arm with a brunette, heavy feet dragging along the sidewalk while your dad chitters in his ear about the Rangers, or about some rude bartender, or about…you. The brunette turns, and her face is yours. Your features, your smile. Your hand linked through Joel’s. C’mon, baby. ‘s go home.

You chase the image away. It slips from your mind like dust cleared from a countertop. Would never. Could never. Should never.

You replace it with something lighter. Something to make you forget about the dust.

“Does…Does my dad ever go home with anyone?”

“What?”

You don’t answer. He heard you.

“That’s…No. I ain’t answerin’ that.”

“Oh, come on. If you’re takin’ women home left, right, and center, he’s gotta be seein’ that. Does he?”

“I was not takin’ home women left, right, and – No, darlin’, no. It’s inappropriate.”

“Yeah, you’re right. And I’m known for my appropriate behavior, y’know,” you gesture between your naked bodies, “I’m known for the good life choices I make.”

“This,” Joel hooks his hands under your arms and drags you up until your chin meets his, “is a good life choice.”

“Yeah?” you ask through a giggle, your nose bumping his.

Joel smiles softly, runs a hand over the back of your head. Looks between your eyes, a twinkle in his. Yes.

Your lips crash together like waves on the rocks. You’re the sea; he’s the stone. Two different worlds, suddenly married in some unforeseen twist of nature. And when you pour over him, your body lighting him in a twinkling glow of ocean, it’s as though you never existed apart from one another. It’s as natural as the waves on the shore.

“Alright, darlin’,” Joel mumbles against your skin. “Speakin’ of inappropriate. I gotta get you home.”

“Why can’t I just stay the night?” you complain. “Like last time. Tell ‘im we’re watchin’ a movie again…”

Joel’s head rests on your arm. “He’s worried sick about you. Ain’t no way he’ll let you spend the night here. You know that. Plus, Sarah’ll be long done with Rita’s cross stitch by now.”

He sits up and you roll into his lap, head resting on the soft skin of his belly. He looks down at you, head tilted, eyes glowing hazel.

You stare right back. The dimples in his cheeks dig deeper when you whisper, “Kickin’ me out right after we finally make up. I see how it is, Miller.”

Joel’s shoulders hunch. “Happens to all of ‘em. Warned ya.”

He shifts off the bed and begins gathering his clothes. You sit up and watch as he pulls his boxers snug over his hips, swipes his tee from the carpet at his feet. As he drapes it over his scruffy chest, your half-naked form meets his at the foot of the bed.

His fingers knot in your hair. You lean into his arms, legs giving as he kisses you gently, breathing you in, stealing any more words of protest from your tongue.

“I love you,” he whispers when he pulls away, tip of his nose brushing off yours. “You know that?”

“Somebody told me somethin’ to do with that, yeah.”

He smiles. “Get dressed.”

You pull the rest of your clothes back on in silence, tossing socks and jeans across the room to one another, giggling like a pair of kids. After all you just did, the palpable pleasure you just sent hammering through one another – this is the part you wish you could bottle. The laughter, the love. The attempts to keep holding onto him, even as he tries to pull his arm through the sleeve of his shirt, even as he links his belt back through his jeans, as he bends to tie his boots.

The fun of it. The hope of it.

The foolish, foolish hope.

“Hoodie.” Joel flings it up towards you, crouched as he tightens his laces.

You pull it on over your bra. Flatten your flyaway hairs, stand straight before him.

“Ready?”

“Ready.”

“You got your phone?”

Your hands instinctively pat your body down. “Oh, nah,” you realize, “musta left it at home.”

Joel nods and heads into the hallway, you at his heel. At the bottom of the stairs, you glance around his house, like it’s the first and last time you’ll see it wrapped into one. It looks different; two weeks of absence and you notice things you hadn’t before.

His coat hanging by the door, probably untouched since early spring. The bowl on the side table where his and Sarah’s keys live. The guitar in the corner of the room, the books in the shelves above it. All him. Every little piece of it. He’s reflected in every object in the room. He’s reflected in you.

You drive back to your dad’s place in silence. Comfortable, sweet silence. Your fingers ghost across his palm the entire time, watching out the window as the dark neighborhood soars by in a blur of porch lights and mailboxes. All too quickly, you’re back in front of your own house.

“What do we do now?” you ask, and through the darkness you see Joel’s smile fall.

After a moment’s silence, heavy and contemplative, he looks back up. Softens when his eyes land on you.

“We’ll be alright,” he tells you, and you believe him.

You lean forward and press a quick but tender kiss to his lips, and your fingers latch around the door handle. Joel’s hand finds the back of your head, keeping your mouth on his.

“Gotta – let me – go,” you mumble between kisses, and he hums a laugh in response. “Joel.”

“I know,” he whispers, finally pulling back. “I know.”

You smile, head tilting into his palm. “I’ll text you.”

He nods once. “See you, babygirl.”

You slip out of the truck and wander past to your front door, twirling as you click the handle. Joel laughs, and the truck reverses back onto the street. You wait for it to disappear before closing the door, and step into the unlit hallway.

The TV lights the living room at the opposite end. You stop by the kitchen, feeling the grumpy rumble of your stomach. Your dad’s armchair is sat facing the screen. You lean over to double check he’s not sat in it, fast asleep while Rangers highlights play on loop before his eyelids.

When you swivel the plaid pattern towards your knees, its only occupant is the remote. You flick the TV off and pad back over to the kitchen, filling a bowl with some chips. You’re hunched over at the refrigerator when his footsteps clunk slowly down the stairs, and he materializes like a specter around the doorway.

“Hey.”

You straighten up, lit in a nervous blue hue from the fridge. “Hey, yourself.”

“Joel gone?”

“’bout ten minutes ago. Where’ve you been? You left the TV on.”

“Just…y’know. You get those brochures?”

Fuck. You were at Joel’s under the premise of picking up fucking UCLA pamphlets – and you’ve come home empty-handed. The lie doesn’t form on your tongue as quickly as Joel’s did earlier. Something else on your mind.

“…sure. Some…interesting stuff.”

Your dad nods. “Good. Good, I’m glad. We can take a look in the mornin’.”

Your eyebrows flinch. “Yeah. That’d be – yeah. I’m…gonna head to bed, alright?”

“Sure,” he says, nodding.

With a can of soda under your arm and your bowl of chips in the other, you nod and cautiously shuffle towards him. His lips are a thin line. You duck by him and trot upstairs, and make it as far as the landing before he’s calling out again.

“Oh, hey.” He holds a hand out, and disappears in a jog towards the living room. You drop back down a couple steps, watching him swipe something from the dining table and pace back over. “You left your phone.”

He’s presenting it like a jeweler shows a Rolex – or maybe more like an investigator handles evidence. Holding it out in almost trembling fingers, afraid to mark it with his fingerprints. Your eyes flit from the phone to his, unsure which of the two frightens you more.

That’s not where I fucking left it.

You lean over and take it from his palm. “Thanks…”

“I think maybe you got a text, just then. It was lit up. Maybe I’m seein’ things.”

You force the corners of your mouth upward. Your cheeks inflate with nerves and shame. “Thanks,” you repeat, and then: “Everything okay, Dad?”

“Everything’s fine, kiddo. Sleep well.” He makes back for the living room.

As you turn, you unlock your screen.

Joel: Left your shirt here, and your bikini from last week. This mean I get to be the one wearing your clothes now?

Panic spills over your head, a wave of freezing cold washing over you when you read his words. Did Dad read them, too?

You continue walking, feeling the weight of your dad’s strange voice on your back as your feet drag you one by one up the stairs. When you make it back to the landing, your cool flees you, and you take the rest of them two at a time until you’re leaning against your bedroom door, panting.

You: Problem. I think my dad saw that text

Joel: How so?

You: When I got home my phone was next to his chair, and he’s being so weird

You: Joel I think he knows something

Joel: I’m sure he doesn’t. He wouldn’t read your phone baby.

He’s trying to reassure you, telling you he wouldn’t even know what it means, maybe he’ll think you spilled something on it, but no matter how many ideas Joel comes up with, none of them slow your heart rate.

You sit down on the edge of your bed, and the anxiety bubbling in your stomach forces you straight back up. Pacing doesn’t help, knowing your dad is directly below you probably hearing the floorboards creak with every step you take.

Your head dizzies with doubts, fears, worries, all frantically throwing themselves against the walls of your skull. You lean your forehead against the cold glass of your window, eyes screwing shut, stars in your vision. Nothing is calming you down.

Joel takes too long to reply back, whether he’s running out of explanations or just fucking forty-eight with an iPhone, but every time your phone buzzes with a new attempt at comfort from him, it only convinces you even more that – no, it wasn’t a stain, it wasn’t a joke, Joel has your top because you took it off for him an hour ago, and then let him fuck you in his bed.

And your dad fucking knows it.

#joel miller #joel miller fic #joel miller x reader #the last of us #tlou #tlou fic #dbf!joel miller #dbf!joel #dad's best friend #joel miller smut #pedro pascal #pedro pascal joel miller #cowboy like me #smut #fluff #angst

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glossgojo · 1 year

Text

prince treatment

bradley “rooster” bradshaw x AFAB reader | 5.7k words

summary: you’re hell-bent on treating bradley like a prince after the events of top gun maverick, but you’re still his princess…

cw: 18+ MDNI, no seriously p0rn with some plot, fluff, fingering, big rooster c0ck (hehe), blowjobs, shower head, oral fem receiving, pussy drunk bradley, AFAB reader, p in v sex, MATING PRESS, multiple orgasms, overstimulation, creampie, possessive bradley, use of “girl” as a pet name, pet names, some degradation towards the end, breeding <3, cervix fucking, i went a lil feral with this one

as soon as you got the call that the mission was over you were hauling ass in bradley’s baby blue bronco. you’d been staying at his place while he was on the mission, keeping it clean and waiting for him to return. you hadn’t even thought to change out of one of his baggy army shirts and instead slipped on biker shorts and sped to the base. phoenix had called and told you that Mav and bradley were resting up in the infirmary but they were okay, she also told you how hangman had helped, knowing you were not fond of the blonde pilot. you choked back a sob as you thanked her letting you know and rushed to get there.

both of the pilots were asleep and you made out bradley’s expression in the dim light of the room. he didn’t look injured but you didn’t hazard touching him, only placing a kiss to his scarred cheek. even in his slumber, he was the most handsome man you’d ever known and your heart swelled knowing he was peacefully asleep in front of you. you tried your best to stay awake in the chair next to the hospital bed but ultimately your eyes shut as you fell asleep to the sound of your boyfriend’s breathing.

bradley woke up to see you curled up, in a position that hardly looked comfortable, in one of his shirts. at first he thought he was dreaming, the sunlight shining down on your hair made you look like an angel. it wasn’t until he heard your soft exhale that he realized he was very much awake and the love of his life was here. you had only been dating two months but bradley had known the first night you were it for him. you talked like you had known each other your entire lives and bradley felt like you were always within him. like you were a bone he just discovered could be broken and healed within the span of a night. you had looked at him like he put the damn stars in the sky but bradley was convinced for the better part of your early days that you were too good to be true. you were so kind to him, so loving it didn’t make sense. it still didn’t make sense, but he let himself be selfish, let himself be cared for. he watched the way his shirt dipped off your shoulder, how the material swallowed you whole and how damn good it felt knowing his girl was dressed in his clothes.

you stirred as bradley moved off the bed, sitting up and pulling on his boots. you always were a light sleeper, waking up to kiss him goodbye every morning no matter how early. your body unfurled, you clutched your neck as you stretched it, sore from its craned position. when your eyes fluttered open you took in your boyfriend staring at you lovingly as he sat across from you. you instantly sat up, your feet moving towards him.

“morning sweetheart.” you didn’t respond, just threw your arms around his neck. you’d missed his voice, it had only been a few weeks but you were terrified the entire time. you didn’t realize you were crying until his strong arms pulled you a little closer when tears wet his back. “hey, it’s okay i’m here.” he rubbed your back, rubbing his nose against the length of your neck, inhaling your scent. you smelled mostly of him, his shirt attributing to that, but there was still a hint of that warm floral smell that he could never get enough of. when your tears seemed to subside you pulled back to look at him, you had missed his eyes.

“hey handsome.” you said, your voice a little groggy still but he laughed nevertheless, and you were content with the smile on his face. you wanted to see him happy all the time, you wanted to care for him, he had been through so much not just in the mission but the past few months. “let’s go home.” home, bradley liked the way you said that about his place. you had only been there a couple times since you started dating, he usually stayed at your place but it seemed you had gotten comfortable at his apartment. the thought alone made the blood rush in his veins.

bradley threw his arm over your shoulder, you tucked into his side and pressed a kiss to his hand since you couldn’t reach his face without some tiptoeing. bradley thought you might just be the sweetest girl in the entire world. in the hallway outside the room you saw hangman sitting down and waiting, you couldn’t believe it but you remembered what phoenix said. he stood up and clapped a hand over bradley’s shoulder, they nodded at each other a whole conversation taking place in silence. you weren’t so adept in whatever that was so instead you just hugged him, bradley letting you go for a moment. you thanked him as you did it, and hangman let out a breath it felt he was holding for a while. you turn back towards bradley, seeing the small smile on his face.

“i know you would’ve killed me, and probably mav if anything happened to him,” jake joked, clearly uncomfortable with being appreciated, and you let him return back to his norm. you knew that in his own way, jake cared about rooster and mav and all the other pilots. he’d just never admit to it.

“you know me so well.” you looked up to bradley who had been watching you throughout the whole conversation. he was struck by how protective you were of him, the fact that you’d fight for him was enough to make his heart beat out of his chest. how had he never noticed this before? you were always barking back at hangman, or telling maverick off. he just never pieced together that it was all for him. he was a fool.

your voice shook him out of his thoughts as you bid your goodbyes to hangman and made your way to the parking lot. bradley could spot his car from a mile away but his eyes were on you. you pushed away from his hold, dangling the keys in front of his face. “i’m driving, you need to rest.” bradley couldn’t protest when you looked like a vision leaning back against the truck bed. he nodded, stepping towards you his hips against yours as he had you pressed against the truck. his arms circled your waist and yours circled his neck, one hand raking through his hair. bradley had to stop himself from groaning at the feeling of your nails scraping his scalp.

“i missed you so much, bradley, i’m so glad you’re safe. you’re a hero, you know that?” the adoration in your eyes was too much for him, bradley thought he might just prove how much he loves you in the bed of his truck, but you didn’t deserve that he wanted to tell you slowly, show you over and over again until you could only think that one thought, bradley loves you.

“i missed you too, before hangman radioed all i could think about was how much i wanted to come home to you.” you didn’t want to cry again, but you could feel tears pricking your eyes. you looked down, head hanging low as you realized what he was saying. when he was scared for his life, he was thinking about you.

“look at me, let me see those pretty eyes.” he nudged your head up, his hand cupping your jaw as he lightly pinched your chin. finally you gave in, looking up at him with tear-filled eyes. he watched you blink, wiped the tears that strayed and pressed a kiss to your forehead.

“bradley, you can’t-fuck i can’t lose you.” bradley knew that you loved him, you’d already made it clear in your actions and now even though he could his reflection in your eyes he could still see that raw desperation and need that he recognized so well. you were just waiting for him, waiting for him to accept the love.

“you won’t.” he promised it with a kiss to your lips, letting you pull him closer, his half hard dick pressed against your stomach and you gasped, giving him an opening. his tongue traced the seam of your lips before delving deeper and tasting you. you kissed him back just as fervently, desperate for him. you pulled back for air first, bradley still pressing kisses to your mouth as you struggled for air. it was then that you realized you were still on the base. you reminded bradley of the fact and pushed him off, you had plans to cook him dinner and curl up in bed, it was high time to head home. bradley, reluctantly moved away from you pressing one last kiss to your lips before moving to the passenger door. you wished your boyfriend wasn’t so irresistible the taste of his lips lingered and you wanted so much more, but you could be patient.

you stuck the keys in and drove off towards bradley’s place and bradley couldn’t help but notice how good you looked driving his car. his shirt still hanging off your shoulders, his. you were his and the thought alone made his hand inch towards your thigh.

“hey that’s my move! you’re the passenger remember.” you pouted, shooting him a playful glare at a red light.

“i beat you to it, not my fault you look so pretty driving my car.” your heart skipped a beat as his hand inched higher, his voice dripping with want. you couldn’t look at him, you knew you’d lose all focus on your goals at home.

“i like taking care of you.” you murmured and bradley didn’t miss it. he couldn’t help but moved his hand higher, long fingers curling under the waistband of your shorts and finally you looked at him. your flushed cheeks and wide eyes drove bradley a little crazier. you didn’t stop him as his fingers grazed your flesh, a whine crawling up your throat. you looked back at the road, driving as well as you could as his thick fingers grazed your clit. his fingers dipped further, stopping as he felt just how wet you were. you squirmed and he huffed out a laugh as he collected your slick, his fingers coated in it. one of his thick fingers slipped into your heat and you bit your bottom lip to hold in the moan, he slid in easily all your arousal easing his movement. his finger curled and found the spot he was well familiar with, making you clench around him.

“so tight baby, ease up.” bradley couldn’t believe just how easily worked up you were, maybe you wanted him just as badly as he wanted you. your arousal probably soaked through your shorts, he should’ve known. he watched as you abused your bottom lip, plump and raw from your teeth. he wanted to hear your pretty noises but he could wait. just as you felt yourself grow close, he slipped his finger out, grazing your clit making you tense, as his hand left your shorts. you couldn’t help but steal a glance at him as he licked your essence off his fingers, looking at you hungrily. the eye contact and the lewd sound of him slurping made you clench again, wanting to be home so badly.

“you taste like heaven sweetheart, can never have enough.” his words alone made you sure you had wet his leather seats. this was the longest drive home ever.

finally after feeling bradley’s eyes on you the remaining drive home you pulled into the driveway. bradley made his way to your door before you had finished collecting your things and opened it for you, you blushed as you looked up at him. it was only minutes ago that the same hand holding the door open was touching you. you made your way inside bradley’s house, setting your stuff down and bradley kicked his shoes off. his place looked the same. there were only a few changes, it smelled like coffee and there was a bouquet on his dining table. it looked fresh, like you’d gotten it just before he came home. was it for him? no surely it was just coincidence.

“it smells so good in here what did you do?” you smiled at him, interlocking your hands as you crossed the space to the dining table. it’s not like it smelled bad before but it was just apartment smells, like pinesol and faint hints of his cologne.

“i just brought some of my candles over. these are for you, i was too frazzled to bring them so i popped them in a vase.” you motioned to the bouquet of peach roses and babies breath. bradley was stunned by you once again. he didn’t know what else to do but pick you up by your waist and pull you into him.

“i don’t deserve you.” he kept his arms wrapped around, his head nuzzling into your neck as you ran your hands through his hair. your bradley was home and you wanted him to know just how much you appreciated him, how much you loved him.

“yes you do, we deserve each other. you’re a hero roo.” you press a kiss to his head, he’s filled with emotion you can hear it in his voice and you’re no better, you’d do anything for him and you hope he knows it. finally bradley let’s you go from his grip, placing you down carefully, pressing a kiss to your fingers that are still interlocked with his own. you feel your heart flutter, set alight by his gentle adoration of you.

“i wanted to cook for you, are you hungry right now or do you wanna wait?” bradley doesn’t know how much a man can take, you’re too good to be true. he nods dumbly watching you saunter into his kitchen, watching you as he takes a seat at the island.

“let’s eat baby.” you shoot him a smile, you had already started getting ingredients out. you knew bradley, he’d eat if there was food offered. bradley felt for the second time like he’d woken up in dream. you moved around his kitchen like you knew it like the back of your hand, and maybe you did but something about you here in his kitchen, wearing his shirt after driving his car home made bradley painfully strain in his pants. you were cooking for him, taking care of him and you looked so damn good doing it. his eyes never left your body as you moved, eyeing you up and down. when you turned towards him he realized you’d said something to him. you held back a laugh as his eyes trailed from your legs to your face. “hmm?”

“i was just saying that kristine at work is getting married, she invited us.” bradley responded to you, and tried to keep himself from getting distracted by you. you decided to be a bit mean by bending down to grab a pot, you could’ve easily grabbed a different one but where was the fun in that? bradley barely finished his sentence as he watched his shirt ride up and show off your ass. he would have to buy you more of those biker shorts, they left nothing to the imagination. you couldn’t help but laugh this time, turning around to look him squarely in the eyes. “cat got your tongue?”

“you’re killing me baby.” he groaned, getting up and coming around the counter to stand in front of you. you could see his bulge as soon as he stood, your cheeks flushing but you kept your bravado all the same. his hands came to your waist, finding their home easily and you placed your hands on his annoyingly firm chest.

“we’re having dinner bradshaw no funny business, take a cold shower.” you teased, bradley groaned and pouted. he probably did need a cold shower, but parting with you was not an option in his mind

“come with me?” you wish you could be the bigger person, not give into the feeling in your stomach you’d been ignoring since you saw him when you woke up, but as he wet his lips and looked at you with his big hazel eyes your resolve dissolved.

you nodded, letting him clasp his hand around your wrist and pull you away. “wait! let me put the lasagna soup on simmer!” you had enough time to shower and be back to finish off dinner, bradley waited like an impatient puppy as you moved the pot, his hands back on your waist, his chest against your back. you could feel his hard-on and you bit your lip to stop yourself from brushing back on him. bradley didn’t think any amount of cold showers would help him scratch the itch that you had implanted within him, all it took was seeing you walking around his house like it was yours too to make him lose his mind.

you followed bradley to his room, grabbing a pair of pajamas which was quickly replaced by one of his army shirts and underwear. bradley watched you strip in the bathroom, his eyes not leaving your bare frame as he turned on the shower. you giggled as you watched his cheeks redden and you felt particularly evil as you pressed up against him and lifted the hem of his shirt up, urging him to take it off. bradley looked down at you, your hardened nipples pressing against his chest and he didn’t know if you were trying to kill him but his heart was

beating out of his chest. you counted down in your mind, 30 minutes to shower, you could do a lot in that time. maybe you’d let bradley work up an appetite.

he pulled off his shirt, his pants next and boxers. you stepped into the shower, beckoning to follow. you pressed at his shoulders to sit down on the bench within his shower, wanting to wash his hair. bradley’s mouth was slightly agape as he let you do as you pleased. you lathered your fingers with shampoo, tilting his head back, and got to work. he could feel your nails scrape against his scalp lightly, your fingers working in the shampoo and making sure to keep the shampoo out of his eyes. his breathing was only quickening as he watched you adamantly take care of you. he couldn’t remember the last time someone took care of him like this, well he could but it hurt to think of. he’d only known you a few months but the way you looked at him, the way you cared for him made him want to propose to you right now. overcome with emotion and a guttural need to make you feel his love, he pressed a kiss to your arm, drawing your eyes to his. you looked at him curiously, clearly so focused on his hair that you didn’t notice his growing emotions. you pressed a kiss to his lips before moving out of the way and grabbing the shower head to wash out the shampoo, your fingers wracking through his hair and making sure it was all washed out.

“can i get up now?” he said as he watched you grab the body wash. you placed the shower head back and turned back to him

“hmm? oh no, you’re getting special services lieutenant bradshaw.” you squeezed some body wash on your hands and bradley’s brain short-circuited. he could take your hands on his head, but your soft small hands on his body would surely end him. he quickly stood up and grabbed you by the waist to push you down.

“you know this could be classified as torture, pretty girl.” you were now in eye-line with his red throbbing member, unable to ignore just how desperate it looked for attention. you swallowed down before looking up at your boyfriend. you lathered the body wash on your breasts, looking up at him innocently as you pushed them together and a small groan left his lips. after your little show you leaned forward, pressing a kiss to the tip of his cock. bradley was big everywhere so unsurprisingly you had a hard time taking all of him into your mouth. you had been successful a couple times, with his help. bradley shuddered at the feeling of your soft lips against him. he clenched his fists as to not pull you onto him. your hands went around his hips and pulled him closer, he was standing between your spread legs and you moved closer on the bench, to get as close as possible. you brought your hands to rest on his thighs as you licked a stripe up his length, feeling his veins pressed against your tongue, pressing another sweet kiss to his tip, making him twitch against your mouth.

“mm roo, can you fuck my mouth?” you looked up at him sweetly and bradley swore he could’ve came just from the sight alone, but he quickly realized he’d rather do that down your throat. without a second of hesitation he grabbed your hair into a ponytail and pried your mouth open with his other hand, slowly sliding his heavy cock in until you adjusted. you felt his tip brush against your throat, struggling to breath as you felt like you were choking on him. your jaw ached as you adjusted to his girth and your tears stung from the intrusion, you could feel his veins against your tongue and the hair at the base of his shaft tickled your nose as you struggled to breath. after a few moments as you regained your breath you tapped on his thigh, signaling for him to move and then bradley snapped out of you and fucked your throat, filling you even deeper than before. he was brutal as he set the pace, you moaned and gagged on him, spit and cum collecting around your mouth and dribbling down your chin as the shower head sprayed down his back and left you feeling filthy. tears were streaming down your face and you dug your nails into his thigh. bradley was close, you could feel him twitching down your throat and his grip loosening, you forced yourself all the way down his length, making it hard to breathe as he filled your throat with his cum. you gagged as it kept coming out, more and more and he pulled you off, the remainder painting your mouth and face white. you wiped it off with your hand and brought it back to your mouth to swallow and bradley thought he might need another round right away. he pulled you up on your shaky legs and pressed a kiss to your lips, tasting himself there. you felt so warm from making him cum, making your bradley feel good. he washed you then, returning the favor from earlier. after showering he dried you off and you did the same for him, letting your hands trail on his abs a little longer than intended. bradley gave you a warning sign and you looked at him with false confusion.

dinner went by quickly after that, both of you having worked up an appetite. “that tasted damn good darlin’” he wiped his mouth and you clenched your legs together where they were crossed. seeing him eat always made you a little needy.

“glad you liked it roo,” you watched as he carried both of your plates to the sink and cleared the table, sticking the dishes in the dishwasher after rinsing them off. your hungry eyes never left his, the kitchen light reflecting off his dog tags, making your head spin.

“my baby’s treating me so well, i would kill for some desert though.” he stood in front of you, pulling you gently to stand and you watched him curiously. he hauled you up, your hands immediately going around his neck and your legs around his waist. before you could ask what he was doing he set you down on the dinner table, kneeling in front of you. his large hands rested on either knee, looking at you silently for permission. you groaned as you looked at his hungry expression, nodding weakly as you felt your arms shake from holding your body up. when his hands parted your legs and pulled down your underwear you fell back, losing any control over your body that you had. “been dying to taste you again, my sweet sweet girl.” he pressed a kiss to the inside of your thigh, murmuring sweet nothings to your core and you wanted to press your legs together to release some of the tension but his strong grip kept you in place. “patience doll.” you whined at his slow kisses between your thighs, never quite where you needed him. you felt so hot and you were sure you were about to drip onto your wooden table if he didn’t touch you soon.

“please roo, i-i can’t.” another whine crawled up your throat as he pressed a kiss to your clit, his mustache grazing your soft skin.

“you can, you’ve been so good all day right? you can be good now.” your hands went to his hair, tugged at the strands there, he just laughed at your attempts to get him where you wanted him. finally after what felt like hours, he pressed a thick finger against your entrance feeling just how wet you were. he felt his dick twitch in his pants at how easily you could take his finger in, so wet and ready for him. he brought the finger to his lips, reminding you of earlier today as he swirled his tongue around it, humming at the taste of you. without warning he pulled you towards his face, your bare ass sliding against the wood as he licked a stripe down your core. bradley felt dizzy at the taste of you, you were so fucking wet, all for him, all because of him. the thought and the addictive taste of you, caused him to dive his tongue into your soppy hole. you whined out his name at the feeling of his tongue moving inside you, scraping your walls, making you gush onto his tongue. the sounds of his tongue fucking you and your whines filled the room. his left hand moved from where it pushed at your thigh to instead thumbing at your clit. you tugged at his hair, trying to pull him impossibly closer and he hummed at the sting, using his other hand to slip a finger into your hole, both his tongue and finger relentless in drawing out more of your ichor. you clenched and he pushed another finger in, removing his tongue entirely and moving to suck your clit as his thick fingers found the spot that made you scream his name. “brad-please i’m so close”

“give it to me pretty girl,” he curled his fingers up, his tongue going back to your hole to catch any of your slick before it plopped on the table, his fingers and mouth driving you to your orgasm and fucking your through it. you were jerking in his hold as he removed his fingers and replaced them with his tongue, not letting any of your release go to waste.

“roo, too much.” you whined as you weakly pushed at his shoulders, the overstimulation becoming too much to bare. he pulled back and you leaned up to see the lower half of his face and mustache glistening in the light. you sat up, clambering to pull him towards you, wanting to taste yourself on his tongue. bradley smiled as he kissed you sloppily, letting you explore his mouth and you whined at the feeling of his hard-on pressing against your core through his sweatpants. as if you weren’t overstimulated minutes ago, your boyfriend being so turned on from eating you out made your core tighten, “want your dick, want you to fill me up.” you whined into his mouth as he pulled back and pressed a kiss to the tender spot beneath your ear. bradley didn’t speak as he picked you up, his hands under your plush ass as he hauled you to the bedroom.

“can’t just say shit like that baby, you’ll drive me crazy.” he growled into your ear, his hold tightening on your ass and pulling you closer against his hard chest.

“s’true though.” you mumbled as he set you down on the bed, pulling your shirt clean off as to you watched him hungrily stare at your body. he leaned over you then, his hand coming between your legs and your eyes widened as you realized what he was doing. “no please-i can take it please roo, it’ll fit i-“ you were begging, desperation and desire clawing at your sensibility and bradley wished he had photographic memory so he could memorize the look on your face and the whine to your voice. you were so gone for him, but he was no better your taste was still branded on the back of his teeth and yet he wanted more.

“desperate little slut, you’ll regret this you know that right?” bradley rarely spoke to you like that, he didn’t really like it, but he could see you clench on air at his words, could see the way your chest moved a little faster.

“i-i can take it.” and he nodded moving up, plunging deep into you before you started begging again. the stretch stole the air from your lungs and the feeling of his tip kissing your cervix made you tense. but then he was moving slowly out and back in, letting you adjust and the burn gave way to pleasure as you clenched around him and felt your arousal mixed with his make the movement easier. you could feel his heavy thick member shaping your walls to fit him, every vein every ridge imprinting inside you. every slow thrust made him kiss your cervix, a ring of cum collecting at the base of his shaft and your arousal pooling down his balls. you wanted more, wanted to burn, barely wanted to walk tomorrow because of him. you clawed at his back, whining as you begged for more, “harder please please.” bradley gave into your pretty little pleas.

he pulled your legs over his shoulders and tilted towards you, his cock dipping into you and hitting a new angle that made his go deeper and strecth you out even more. he watched your eyes roll to the back of your head as he lifted up and pounded down into you, and then again and then until he was pounding you so hard and fast that your head was banging against the headboard. your mind went numb at the overwhelming pleasure, you dug your nails in to ground yourself as his tip bruised your cervix and he hit the spot that made you babble and cry for more. bradley was fucking you like it was the only chance he had, his hips snapping into yours and your cum dripping down your thighs and his. the room smelled of sex and sounded pornographic. “this pussy is mine, you’re mine.” he growled out and you clenched around him, loving the sound of that. you had been his since the moment you met.

“i’m yours.” you gasped between thrusts, his mouth trailing hot kisses down your neck, biting and sucking at the skin there. you cried out as he pulled back to look down at you, his hand cradling your jaw and then he slipped his thumb into your mouth and you felt yourself grow close. bradley was filling you up and now his fingers were in your mouth, keeping you stuffed. you slobbered around them sucking and whining as the moved down your throat, fucking you there too. all you could think about was him filling you up.

“need your cum,” you managed as you pulled his fingers out, saliva trailing behind and connecting to your lips. bradley almost came at yours words alone, he pulled his drenched fingers and flicked your clit, massaging it slowly in contrast to his brutal pace. you were sure your cunt would be bruised if that was possible.

“gonna fill you up, watch you walk around my house. in my clothes. drive my car with my kid inside you. you’re fucking mine forever.” he babbled, angling himself until he was kissing your cervix with each thrust, punctuating his words and then finally his resolve snapped. he dipped his hips to connect to yours one last time before he was filling you up, his cum overflowing from your small cunt. you gasped and cried at the feeling coming with him and seeing white as you arched up into him, clawing down his back and leaving red marks in your wake.

you felt so warm and when he pulled out you whined at the feeling of his cum gushing out, threatening to run down your thighs. but bradley was quicker, he was fucking it back into you, making sure it stayed in there. you clenched at the feeling and cried out his name. you knew you were on birth control, bradley knew it too but the way he fucked you like he wanted to breed you made your head spin. bradley pulled you on top of him as he moved to lay next to you on his back, enjoying the weight of your body on his. “for the record, you’re mine forever too.” although it wasn’t i love you it was damn near close and the way bradley fucked you, you weren’t sure those words were needed any more.

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