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mooshywrites · 2 months

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Bloodied Stars - Part 2 - Aop the Cobblestone Floor

Fem!Reader x Ascended Astarion

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Word count - 3.5K

Warnings - NSFW, MDNI, Smut, biting, blood, oral (male receiving), penetrative sex, vaginal sex, creampie (Series contains - Angst, “enemies” to lovers, pregnancy, disagreements, slow character growth, smut, typical asshole ascended astarion behavior, cliffhangers, murder, death. This takes place after the events in BG3, the ‘reader’ (you) is not Tav. Just another Baldur’s Gate resident.)

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“So desperate for danger, aren’t we, pet?”

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“I’ll stay,” you whispered, your voice barely audible in the dimly lit room.

The vampire’s eyes glowed with a mixture of triumph and hunger as he pulled you closer, his grip steady. As his lips met yours in a fervent kiss, you knew in that moment.

Just for tonight, this pale elf was yours.

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His kiss was both chilling and intoxicating, his lips molding against yours in an icy frenzy. Despite his cool skin, you melted into his embrace, relishing the feeling of his hands gripping your sides

If not for the heat beginning to pool in your stomach, you might’ve been taken aback by how gently he held you. By how honest his kiss felt. It was if he was pouring hundreds of years of feeling into where you connected, kissing you like it was the last time he’d be allowed to hold someone close.

His tongue swiped over your lower lip earning a breathless gasp to spill from you. You parted your kiss, allowing him into your mouth. His tongue moved against your own, dancing in a deliciously sinful battle. You flicked your tongue over his sharper canine, smirking when you felt a shudder run down his spine.

You didn’t know where this sudden confidence was coming from. It was if you were possessed by a much braver woman. A spell held over you in some way. Perhaps it was the Vampire’s influence, his aura of danger mixed with the desire that trailed lazily through your veins. Or perhaps it was simply the allure of the unknown, the thrill of what could come next in this forbidden dance.

As he deepened the kiss, pulling you impossibly closer, you felt a hunger awaken within you. Something primal, all consuming. Like a fire had ignited in your entire being, burning away all reason and doubt. And in that moment, you knew you were lost to him in more ways than one.

You knew that this night could only end in heartbreak. In even more crushing loneliness.

But the way he groaned against your lip… how could you possibly care about what the morning would bring/

You felt his hand roam down your back, gently digging in to your soft skin. A low growl rumbled from his chest as he pressed his body against yours, his touch sending shivers down your spine. The room seemed to spin as you as you gave in to the overwhelming desire that pulsed between the two of you. Your hands found their way to his hair, tangling in the soft curls as you pulled him back into your kiss. Each moment with his lips against yours felt like an eternity, yet passed by in the blink of an eye.

As he pulled away slightly, his trail of kisses down your neck ignited a fire within you that threatened to consume everything in its path, the sensation was dizzying, all consuming, and undeniably addictive. You couldn’t resist him if you tried, his lips grazing across your fresh bite sending need straight to your core. You remembered how it felt to have his teeth piercing you, the wave of pleasure that soon followed when his venom entered the blood.

You moaned softly, your back arching against him as he nipped at the supple skin. The memory of the bite was both terrifying and exhilarating, the idea of him doing it again giving you an intoxicating high.

“Please,” you whispered airily, surprised by your lips betraying your thoughts.

“Please what, pet?” he practically purred, clearly enjoying how quickly you had become putty in his hands.

“Please bite me,” you breathed, your voice shaking with anticipation.

His eyes widened slightly, but not before they revealed a hint of satisfaction.

He had you now.

With a gentle smile, he leaned in closer, grazing his fangs ever so slightly against your jaw.

“Is that what you want, my darling?” he asked, his breath cool against your skin.

You nodded, not trusting your ability to speak without it coming out a string of embarrassingly desperate begs.

Slowly, he sank his fangs into your delicate skin, smirking against your neck.

The pain was sharp, just as it had been before, but it was completely overshadowed by the increasing wave of pleasure that washed over you. You couldn’t help but let out a whine, your body trembling under his touch. Your mind fogged over in a haze that very well could’ve been from either the venom or simply lust.

Heat pooled between your legs, your desire becoming more insistent. As he removed his fangs from your skin, you gasped for air, unsure if your body could take much more of this. Yet, you found yourself wanting more. Wanting more of him.

His lips met yours once again in a kiss that was both tender and fierce, his hand gripping your hip just enough to remind you of his dominance.

He pulled away, leaving you panting from the experience. Your eyes were met with an arrogant smile, the pale elf’s lips swollen with your kiss.

“So desperate for danger, aren’t we, pet?” he mused. “So easy to coax into doing exactly what I want.”

You gave him a halfhearted glare, not ready to let him think he had you in the palm of his hand just yet. You detested the arrogance in his words, the idea that he had any more control in this situation than you did. Especially when you could see the affect you had on him as well.

The way his chest rose and fell heavily, the way his pupils had expanded,

The way his length pressed against you, hard and inviting.

You gave him a small smile, luring him into a sense of innocence before brushing your knuckles against his clothed member.

“So desperate for control, aren’t we, pet,” you challenged.

His eyes flared with a surprise, a hint of heat ignited in his crimson gaze. You felt a shift in the room as it went silent and you knew in your bones that your unwillingness to play the damsel had changed something.

You stared back into his eyes, refusing to back down from his intense gaze. You were a breath apart, your fingertips still against him. His eyes searched your own, clearly an internal battle playing out in his mind. Finally, his eyes hardened.

“I am yours as you are mine,” he murmured.

You didn’t have a chance to wonder what he could have meant, the vampire’s pale arms wrapping around you and pulling you atop him.

His hardened member shifted against your core, your clothes doing little to dampen the shock of pleasure you felt against him. A moan tumbled from your lips, quickly swallowed by the pale elf’s kiss.

As his lips consumed yours, pleasure spread through your entire body, alighting you. His hands pulled at your shirt, rough and demanding. You didn’t resist, needing the practical stranger just as much as he needed you. The heat between you was palpable as he gathered the hem of your shirt with his hands. With a quick motion, he ripped the fabric down the middle, eliciting a yelp from you.

“I spent a long time on that!” you spat.

How hard it was to remain angry at a man when he looked at your bare chest with such reverence.

“Find another,” was all he offered in return, leaning forward to press a chaste kiss on your collarbone.

Your hands flew back to his hair, fingers clutched at the white curls as you pulled him back to your chest. The vampire chuckled, nipping at your breastbone while looking back up at you.

“Tell me, my darling,” he murmured lowly. “Tell me what makes a mere mortal deserving of someone as powerful as myself between their legs.”

“What makes a ‘powerful being’ so keen to bed a ‘mortal’?” you shot back, trying to hold back how deliciously pleasurable it felt to have his lips brush against the soft swell of your breast.”

The vampire pulled away, sitting at eye level with you once again. His eyes flashed in warning, trying to exude annoyance. You could see past the glare into the hint of amusement in his smile.

“I’m in no mood for games, pet,” he growled, his voice still dripping with seduction. He guided your hands to the button of his pants, smirking all the way.

“Show me why you wanted to stay,” he whispered, his breath ghosting over your lips as he leaned forward.

Your fingers trembled slightly as you undid the button, tugging at the zipper and pulling it down. With a smooth confident motion, he pushed the pants, releasing his encouraged erection with a smack against his stomach.

Your eyes widened, taking in the sight before you, and you couldn’t help but swallow hard. The vampire stood slowly, lowering you off his lap onto the cool stone floor. You looked up at him, his length standing proud and inviting before your gaze.

“Prove to me that you’re different than the others brought down to this cell,” he smirked, his voice low and demanding. It was a challenge, a dare thrown right at your feet.

Taking a breath and feeling a surge of desire, you rose to your knees and reached out to touch his hard length. Your fingers traced the veins, feeling the heat radiating from him. You licked your lips, hesitance filling you as you realized you had no idea what you were doing. Yes, you had fooled around with men before, mostly drunken one night stands to keep the cold lonely nights at bay.

But handling equipment this large?

“Show me what you want,” you murmured, your voice barely more than a whisper, as you knelt down before him.

The pale elf stood there, watching you, his eyes dark and filled with hunger. He took a deep breath, seeming to have to steel himself in the moment. Then he reached down to take your hand, wrapping your fingers around his shaft. He aided your movements, starting you off by slowly stroking him up and down.

The feeling of having his length in your hand was both powerful and intoxicating. He let out a low groan and moved his hand to cup your cheek, his hips bucking forward slightly. You looked up at him, taking in his expression as you felt him. Your other hand, as though it had a mind of its own, trailed up to cup your breast.

The vampire’s breath hitched, his eyes glazing over as he watched your movements. You could feel your heart racing, your breaths coming in shallow pants as your body responded to his own groans.

Cautiously, you leaned forward and ran your tongue across the head of his length, tasting the mix of salt and musk that filled the air around him. Your eyes met his, and for a moment, you saw a flash of surprise in his expression before it returned to the ever present hungry gaze.

Emboldened by your own courage, you took him into your mouth, the rush of pleasure that flooded through at the moan spilling from his lips nearly overwhelming. You let out a satisfied hum, the sound vibrating through his length. He cursed at the feeling, pushing his member further into your mouth.

You knew then that you were in control even as you continued to pleasure him. His grip on your hair tightened as you took him deeper, trying to will yourself not to gag as you adjusted to his girth. The feeling of power surged through you, and you could feel his arrogant cascade slipping through his fingers easily.

You pulled back slowly, taking a moment to look up at him through your lashes. His eyes were shining with need, his lips parted in a breathless moan.

“Don’t stop, pet,” he growled, his tone almost sounding more like a beg than a demand.

You complied, taking him back into your mouth, sucking slightly as he thrust his hips forward. His fingers tugged at your hair lightly, coming undone by your actions.

You began to move your head confidently, setting a steady pace as he continued to watch you with rapt attention. His breaths became harsher and his movements more erratic.

You could hear the desperation building in his voice as he struggled to contain his lust.

“Oh gods, that’s it,” he groaned.

With a pop, you pulled of of his length, giving him an innocent smile.

You tried to still your heart as he glared back down at you. Were you playing with danger? Sure. It definitely wasnt smart to play so fast and loose with a monster who could no doubt rip you limb from limb.

But the flush in his cheeks made you want nothing more than to tease him.

“I’ve killed for much much less than that,” he warned as you stood.

“You won’t kill me,” you whispered, pressing yourself against his chest. As you looked up at him, you weren’t entirely confident in the words. Yet, there was something behind his threatening tone. Something deeper and possibly even…

Affectionate?

You pushed the thought out of your mind. One night stands with a kidnapping vampire were no place to develop feelings.

You pulled him into a kiss, trying to distract from your spiraling imagination. Your lips met his with a hunger than matched his own, the intensity of the kiss making you grow wetter. You felt him inhale deeply against you, as if he could smell your arousal in the air.

The pale elf broke the kiss, his eyes dark and taken on a primal quality. “I’m running out of patience, pet,” he purred.

With a deep breath, you kissed again, gentler this time. You slowly pulled him to the ground with you, wincing as the cold stone hit your skin.

With a few deft movements, you shifted to straddle him, gasping at the feeling of his length settling against your folds. The pale elf smirked, shifting his hips just enough to push against your swollen clit.

You moaned softly, adjusting yourself to his position. His hands gripped your waist, pulling you closer against him. The cold stone beneath your knees felt unnatural against your skin, but the feeling of his hardness against you made you forget your surroundings.

“Are you sure this is what you want?” his voice strained, your eyes snapping up to meet his.

Asking permission so sweetly? As a quite possibly all powerful ‘ascended’ vampire?

You couldn’t help but break into a wide smile, nodding slightly.

“I’ve never been more sure of any of my bad decisions,” you whispered, guiding his length to your folds.

The vampire groaned as he slowly entered you, the feeling of him stretching your aching walls making you shiver. He was so much bigger than you imagined, your body straining to take his length, and yet somehow, it seemed so perfectly right.

A sinful moan dripped from his mouth as he bottomed out inside of you, and for a moment, time seemed to stop. The only sounds in the room being your labored breaths melding together.

You clung to him, lifting your hips in a pace that was slow and deliberate at first, savoring ever inch of him that was filling you. You watched his face contort in pleasure, his ruby eyes locking onto yours with an indecipherable fervor you hadn’t seen before.

His soft hands gripped your hips, his nails digging into your skin as the pace quickened. You let your head fall back, allowing your hair to fall in waves down your back. The vampire began to move within you, his hips meeting your every move.

His lips caught at your collarbone, leaving a trail of soft kisses. A gentle contrast from the bruising pace he began to set. Each thrust drove him deeper, pushing him further than before. And with every plunge, your walls tightened around him, sending shockwaves of pleasure through your body. The cold stone and mildew air was forgotten as the world around you collapsed in a haze of sensation. The only thing that mattered now was the monster beneath you. Taking you.

Claiming you.

Your moans were barely a whisper on your lips as he pounded into you, over and over, his hips bucking as though possessed by some primal force. It could have been hours, or minutes, it was impossible to tell as your desire built like a tidal wave.

“Just like that,” you whimpered.

His pants echoed against your skin, his kiss clumsily finding your breast. His teeth nipped at your skin, grazing across your pebbled nipple. You squeaked out a moan, arching your back against his mouth.

As your moans grew louder, the pale elf’s lust became more intense. His hips slammed against you, the friction undoing every thought you had. You could feel your core beginning to flutter around him, your body tightening with every thrust. The vampire growled low in his throat, his grip on your hips locking into place as you began to reach your climax.

Your eyes rolled back in your head as you let out a scream. The pleasure overwhelmed your entire body, shifts of electricity and warmth coalescing into a cacophony of sensation. The pale elf’s thrusts began to stutter, his pants growing more raged. Just as you crested your high, you felt him still against you.

Leaning forward just enough to pierce the soft skin of your shoulder with his fangs.

Your vision was blinded by brilliantly light, the feeling of your orgasm shattering you in a way millions of times more intense. Every nerve felt alight, every drop of pleasure filtered into your awareness. You couldn’t even cry out, your muscles twitching and shaking. Vaguely, you heard the man groan, warmth filling your core in spurts.

It seemed like hours before your climax subsided and senses began to return. If not for the vampire holding you, you’d be melted into a heap on the ground. His own breaths were ragged as he came down from his own high. You lay against him, gasping, your body still trembling from the intensity of the experience.

He pulled back slowly, his eyes glazed over with a sense of satisfaction. You found the strength to look at him, your gaze locked onto his crimson eyes that sparkled with a twisted admiration.

“A most fitting ‘thank you’ for allowing you to leave this place,” he mused.

You huffed in exasperation, leaning further against his chest. You couldn’t find it in you to be annoyed at his haughtiness. His arms wrapped around you, holding you close. Your heart clenched slightly, painfully aware of how gently he held you.

You weren’t ready to think about how it would feel when he finally let go. When you left this place for good.

Drowsiness tugged at your chest, your body all too heavy and spent. The soft circles the pale elf rubbed with his thumb did nothing to help the fatigue that suddenly washed over you.

“Well, pet?” The man asked, making you realize you hadn’t paid attention to anything he had said.

“What?” you responded tiredly.

His words never reached you, exhaustion ever so persistent in your bones.

Your eyes fluttered shut, your head nuzzling against the vampire’s chest. Sleep claimed you, pulling you away from the mildew and stone room.

Away from your pale elf.

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You awoke with a start, grimacing when your muscles protested sorely. You rubbed your eyes, trying to regain your bearings.

You were in your bed.

Familiar sights and smell filtered in, the skeins of thread littering your table, the comfortable fabric of your quilt over you, the sunlight filtering through your bedside window.

You squinted at the light, memories of the night before appearing as snippets.

Your cheeks flushed red as what you had done hit you all at once. You couldn’t find it in yourself to be ashamed, remembering the feeling of the vampire’s hands all over you.

You reached up, fingertips tracing over the twin pinpricks on your neck.

Not a dream, then.

You took in a deep breath, looking out the window. With a shake, you tried to ignore thinking about how exactly you’d been returned to your bed, or what it meant for an ascended vampire of all people to know where you lived. You tried to keep the sadness from tugging at your chest, shaking off the sleepiness from the morning.

As you stood up and stretched, you tried to fill yourself with determination. You were home. You were alive. More importantly, you had orders to fill.

It was best to put your near death experience and incredibly alluring one night stand as far out of your mind as possible. After all, you would never be seeing the pale elf again.

…

Right?

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brokebonewritings · 2 months

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Never Before, Never Again

Astarion x Fem! Reader

Tags/ Warnings: 18+, Angst, Abuse, Death, Mentions of Blood, Smut

Summary: It’s been six month since settling down in Baldur’s Gate with Astarion. After killing Cazador, you notice his aggressive nature taking over. How long will it take for you to be truly done with his wrath.

Word Count: 2.6K

A/N: I want to start off by apologizing but I felt so inspired after the new romance scenes in Patch 6. I also want to say that I will be writing a good ole, fluff fic with Astarion just to make up for this.

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You paced down the corridor of the palace you now shared with Astarion. It had been 6 months since that fateful night. The killing of Cazador had been eventful so to say and shortly after you had accepted his invitation to be his. Forever.

It wasn't the same. You started noticing it little by little. His attitude towards you had become increasingly aggressive. Feral even.

You couldn't shake off the feeling of unease that lingered in the air whenever Astarion was around. His once charming demeanor had turned into something darker. As you walked through the palace corridors, you couldn't help but feel a sense of foreboding creeping up your spine.

Reaching the library, you decided to throw yourself into your research. You were a scholarly warlock, after all. And work you did. For hours you studied magic texts, and the histories behind them.

As you sat in the dimly lit library, Astarion entered the room with a predatory glint in his eyes. His movements were slow and deliberate, like a predator stalking its prey. When you turned, you tried to shake off the feeling of fear that gripped your chest as he approached you.

"Darling, is this where you've been all day?" His voice was low and dangerous, sending a shiver down your spine. "I've missed you and your delicious body."

The room turned cold as his words sank in. Something had changed in him, something dark and possessive.

You swallowed hard, trying to maintain your composure in the face of his unsettling presence. "I've been busy with my studies," you replied, keeping your tone neutral despite the growing sense of dread in your heart.

The dread whenever he was around had only appeared in the most recent weeks. You tried to focus on the book in front of you, but his proximity was suffocating.

Astarion's hand suddenly shot out and slammed the book shut, causing you to jump in your seat. His grip on the tome was tight, his knuckles turning white as he leaned in close enough for you to feel his cold breath on your skin.

"Studies can wait," he whispered, his voice sending a chill down your spine. "I have other ways for us to spend our time together."

You had to play along. It was the only way to appease him. The only way you could escape.

"How is that, my love?" You say as you rise from your seat, taking his outstretched hand gently.

In a swift motion he pulls you in close to his chest. As he held you tightly against him, his grip almost bruising, you couldn't help but feel a surge of fear mingled with a strange sense of thrill.

His lips brushed against your ear, sending a shiver down your spine as he whispered, "I want to show you a new side of pleasure, my dear. A side that only I can unlock for you." His words were laced with seduction.

As he guided you out of the library and down the dimly lit corridors of the palace, you couldn't shake off the feeling of being led into the unknown.

You found yourself in a room you were very familiar with. The air was heavy with the scent of ancient magic, and as Astarion's eyes gleamed with an otherworldly light, you realized truly you were not in the presence of the man you one knew.

"Darling, did you bring me in here to ravish me?" You say as you begin to remove your silk dress.

Watching his eyes darken with hunger, his lips curled into a sinister smile. He circled around you like a predator assessing its prey, his fingertips trailing lightly along your skin, leaving a trail of fire in their wake.

He finally stops behind you and reaches around your neck to grip your jaw. His touch was both possessive and delicate, a stark contrast that sent a wave of conflicting emotions through you. As he tilted your head back to expose your vulnerable throat, you could feel the weight of his gaze burning into your skin.

Astarion's voice was a low murmur against your ear, promising whispered secrets and forbidden desires. "Oh, my sweet little morsel," he murmured, "I am going to make sure there is not a single place on your skinned that is untouched."

His mouth finds the pressure point in your neck and you moan as he gives it a gentle bite. You know he can feel you tremble beneath his hand. He trails his kisses lower until he is able to fully sink his teeth in.

You begin to gasp and writhe under his touch, the intensity of his grip and the sharp sting of his bite both arousing and terrifying. And then, as suddenly as it began, Astarion pulls away, leaving you breathless and exposed.

"Astarion!" You shout, hand covering the bite marks on your neck. "I told you to ask before doing that!"

"I do not need to ask permission! You are mine! I own you!" He grabs your arm pulling you towards him.

That did not stop the tears from beginning to drip down your cheeks. Everything he did not want to become, he was. After countless promises that he was the same rogue you had met that fateful day.

"Oh darling, do you see what you have made me do?" He whispers. "You know I don't like to shout at you."

Astarion's features softened as he saw the tears on my face, though his eyes remained distant and cold. He slowly released my arm and stepped back.

You take a deep breath, trying to calm the tremors in your body. "You need to control yourself, Astarion. You are beginning to change into someone I don't know."

"Of course I am changing. I am the most powerful being in this world." He walks over to the chair by his desk. "Are you doubting me now?"

Shaking your head, you couldn't help but to submit to the question. "No, no. Of course not, love."

He motions with his finger for you to come to him and you obey. When you approach him, he motions for you to kneel before him. Once again you obey his command.

"Here is what we are going to do, pet." He begins "You are going to be a good girl, and do as I say. Understand?"

You nod. "Yes I understand."

"Such a good girl, aren't you?"

He stands and steps forward grabbing hold of your chin and bringing you in for a searing kiss. Once he was satisfied, he pushes against your cheek causing you to fall back roughly. You try to catch your breath as you sit there, staring up at him.

"Get undressed, and sit on the bed for me, darling."

You stand and finally fully undress. You sit on the edge of the bed, feeling the silk sheets beneath you. You didn't know how to react at this point.

He stepped closer until he was looming over you, his shadow engulfing you in its darkness. Then, he reached down and began to trace the outline of your body with his fingers, starting at your neck and moving down to your chest.

"Spread your legs for me," he commands, his voice low and seductive.

You hesitate for a moment, but then you find yourself doing as he says, unable to resist his authority. He takes a moment to enjoy the sight before him, his gaze lingering on each part of your body that he intends to claim.

Finally, he leans down and kisses your inner thigh, his lips barely brushing against your skin. You tremble as he slowly makes his way up, his tongue tracing a path along the delicate flesh. Each touch of his lips and tongue sends shockwaves of pleasure coursing through you.

As his lips reach your most intimate place, you arch your back, your breath coming in short gasps. You feel him tease you, his tongue flicking against you, driving you mad with desire.

Astarion smiles, a wicked smile, as he notices the effect he's having on you. He pulls back slightly, giving you a moment to catch your breath before he begins to devour you. His tongue plunges inside you, sending waves of pleasure through you that threaten to consume you.

You can't help but cry out in pleasure, your hands gripping the sheets beneath you as his tongue moves inside you. You are completely at his mercy, your body arching and writhing as he takes you to heights you never thought possible. Finally, he pulls back, his eyes gleaming with triumph. He leans down and kisses you, allowing you to taste yourself on his lips.

"Now," he says, his voice low and commanding, "It's time for you to learn what it means to truly be mine."

You nod, still reeling from the intensity of the experience. With one swift motion, he grabs your hips as he flips you over. You lay there a moment, listening to the ties of his pants coming undone.

He lifts you up and positions you at the edge of the bed, spreading your legs wide to reveal your vulnerability. His powerful hands grip your hips, and he begins to enter you slowly, his movements deliberate, almost intimate.

You gasp in pain, then pleasure, as the feeling of fullness envelops you, overwhelming your senses. He moves harder, faster, and you can't help but arch your back to meet his thrusts, moaning his name over and over.

He continues to dominate you, his voice a low rumble in your ear, promising you more pleasure than you ever thought possible. Your body responds, writhing beneath him, your hands clutching the sheets, your moans echoing through the dimly lit room.

"That's it, my love," he growls, his voice low and filled with lust. "Take it all."

His thrusts became more erratic, his breath ragged, and you felt his grip on your hips tighten. Astarion's eyes lock on yours, and you see the intensity of his desire reflected in them. With one final thrust, he groans your name, and you feel him spill inside you.

When you feel him slip out of you, you can't help but turn yourself around to face him. You were met with the unpleasant feeling of a sharp dagger being pressed against your chest.

"Astarion?"

"I know exactly what you are planning to do to me, Darling."

The dagger you had hidden in the pocket of your dress was the exact one that was being held against you.

"Please Astarion, it doesn't have to be like this!" You begin to cry. The man you once knew and loved had been left in that chamber.

"Oh, but it does have to be like this." He presses the dagger a little harder causing you to wince in pain. "You were the last person I expected to betray me."

"Betray you?" You choke out, swallowing the lump in your throat. "I... I don't know what you're talking about."

"Oh, Darling." Astarion's voice is cold and murderous, and you can see it in his eyes. "We both know that's a lie."

He steps closer, the dagger still pressed against your chest. You can feel the cold metal prick you, causing you to jolt in pain.

"Tell me," he demands, his voice barely above a whisper. "What did you plan to do to me?"

"You are becoming exactly like Cazador, Astar-"

"Don't ever mutter his name in here again!" His voice seized with venom. "I am more than he ever was! Smarter, Powerful."

His grip tightened around the dagger, its edge digging deeper into your flesh, drawing a thin line of blood. Your heart raced with fear, but you couldn't help but retort, "And yet, you still lack control."

As he raises the dagger back to plunge it into your chest, you quickly maneuver and shove him into the bed without second thought. The knife falls from his hand and slides onto the floor near your feet.

You take a moment to catch your breath and gather your thoughts. This situation has escalated far beyond what you had anticipated, and now you need to act quickly to save yourself.

Staring into Astarion's eyes, his murderous intent shining back at you. With a surge of adrenaline, you push yourself off the bed and lunge for the dagger on the floor. You manage to grab it just as he jumps to his feet, ready to pounce.

With the dagger in hand, you cautiously back away from him, trying to keep your distance. "Listen to me, Astarion," you say, trying to keep your voice steady despite the trembling in your body. "You have hurt me beyond words can explain! I have had enough!"

"I have given you everything you have ever wanted!"

"And yet you have taken everything I needed!"

Astarion's eyes narrowed at your words, and he took a step towards you, menace radiating from him. You raised the dagger in front of you, preparing to defend yourself if necessary.

"You betrayed me, Darling. You lied to me, and now you want to take my life?"

You shook your head, tears streaming down your face. "I never wanted this! I just wanted.. I just wanted you to be the person you were before, but you've become someone else. Someone I don't recognize."

"I was always this person!" He shouts, you see his hands shaking with anger. "You could not change that even if you tried."

Astarion took a deep breath, his fists clenching and unclenching. You knew he was about to do something that would change the course of both of your lives.

"I'm tired of being your spawn, Astarion."

With that, Astarion lunged at you. The dagger that was held tightly in your hand was raised as you plunged it into his heart. His eyes widen in shock, his breath catching in his throat as the cold steel and wood pierce his chest.

Blood spills from his mouth before he speaks. "I thought you loved me."

"I did love you." You sob, "But I knew for a while that you truly didn't love me."

You watch as his body convulses for a moment before going limp. You step back, staring at the lifeless form before you. The room is silent, only the sound of your ragged breathing filling the space.

Taking a deep breath, the shock of the moment is still fresh in your mind. You never thought it would come to this.

You sink to your knees beside his body, the weight of what you've done heavy on your chest. The blood is still warm as you reach down to touch it, a single tear falling onto his skin.

"I'm so sorry, Astarion," you whisper. "But I had to do it. I had to save you from yourself."

Slowly, you rise to your feet, your legs shaking with the realization of what you've done. You take in the scene before you, the remnants of your love now tainted with blood and death.

Taking a deep breath, you wipe away the blood from your hands, leaving behind a red smudge on the wall. You grab armor from the wardrobe before finally leaving the palace. When you reached the door and opened it, the cool day air felt cool against your skin.

Looking back one final time, you realize just how trapped you had been. Now free, you felt the weight of sadness as you set out on your own once again. You would never let this happen again.

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soobadnoonecanstopher · 2 months

Text

Can I Stay? (A Baekhyun Story) Part 21.

Pairing: You x Baekhyun

Rating: M (Mature)

Word Count: 11k

Warnings: smut. what if we made a drunk sex tape. The next chapter will be the end.

A romance between two adults with an unspecified age difference between them, an English story that uses the word Noona for lack of another word in English that carries the same feeling, if you don’t like this, then don’t read this story.

Links: Masterlist The Letters (Bonus Chapter)

Tag: @his-mochi-cheeks

Your perspective on the other side of that patio door was a haze. You were drunker than you thought. Your quick stop at the empty bathroom just inside of that patio didn’t help sharpen your mind much.

The journey back to the grand ballroom, back to the party, had an odd buzz of excited whispering from groups of guests that you passed. Everywhere and all around you heads were leaned in close as they all giggled and whispered about some event that had transpired; some shocking party scandal. As you drew closer to your particular group of people you began to notice an occasional pair of eyes glance in your direction and just as quickly those eyes would look away.

The buzzing through your veins seemed once fully attributed to the alcohol suddenly felt just a little less warming and more chilling.

They were all very thrilled with whatever the news was. Highly amused in a sort of rubbernecker kind of way. Whatever had happened had no like effect on their lives. Whatever had happened would only ruin someone else’s life or worse, their career. You tried to make longer eye contact. You tried to gague what sort of a scandal it was this time. All the while wondering if you had done enough in your life to be on God’s good graces. If the $25 paycheck deduction for the local animal shelter had bought you enough good karma to save you this time.

With their whispered giggles and their snickering body shaking secrets group after group you passed seemed to be incredibly worked up as the gossip seemed to be spreading through the hotel like wildfire.

That chill in your veins had spread and brought a sinking feeling inside of your stomach. You felt made just a little queasy by it.

What if someone saw.

What if a right place right time eye witness saw you and Baekhyun out there on that patio just now.

What if a party guest out on a smoke break just happened to be walking back up the sidewalk at the exact right time and happened to look up at the exact right time and happened to recognize your super sparkly dress or his blue satin suit and what if, what if, what if someone in one of the apartment homes directly across from patio was putting their child to bed after a bedtime story and as they were drawing the curtains to shut out the nighttime lights they happened to catch the both of you in full on, middle school textbook visual description of heavy petting, just so happened to know a guest at this very party who just so happened to have seen you both walk out there toward that patio and what if, what if, what if a phone call was made or a picture was sent and they put it together that you and Baekhyun had been sleeping together all this time; even and especially when you were his direct supervisor and in charge of things like his schedule and his bonuses and his promotions and his performance review oh my god his performance review the one you got fucked on top of and ruined and then directed him, as his supervisor to forge just as you had directed him as his supervisor to engage in sexual intercourse on company property on company time you were at least guilty of time theft and extortion and sexual harassment and fraud. Charges like that, even with the best lawyers, even if you beat the charges, your reputation would be ruined and you could face thousands upon thousands of fines and lawsuits and maybe even go to jail. Could you survive prison?

You weren’t the type to brag. This was a reality of your situation. But fucking hell, you were too pretty for prison.

Phones were buzzing on tables; lighting up around the darkened space like twinkling Christmas lights and you suddenly remembered you had one of those too and you pulled it out of the clutch bag you miraculously still had with you.

Your screen was lit up with notifications. Several of your work group chats had several unread messages and the messages were still coming in.

Your eyes scanned the incoming words desperate to find the subject of all of this mess.

‘No way!’

‘Omg I can’t believe it.’

‘That’s fucking crazy!’

You’d come into this too late. You quickly unlocked your phone and began scrolling up through the apparently bombshell that began all of this commotion and after several seconds of scrolling you came across the beginning.

‘!!!!!’

It started with an appropriate commotion and the next message instantly had you exhale a long sigh from deep within your lungs that seemed to take ages for all off the air to fully exit your body.

‘Chet just got dragged out by security and he’s being arrested for peeping in the ladies bathroom. Someone said he was laying on the floor taking pictures up skirts! What a fucking creep!!’

The relief felt like a light switch was flipped; with the instantaneous flood through your chest.

As quickly as the relief came a different worry. Despite the answer to your question being answered you still scrolled line by line through the flood of messages as your team members and other people in the agency discussed the news with ravenous delight. Word after word your eyes searched for his name. You searched for any possible connected to your name even if you had your doubts that these people would suddenly forget that you were also in this group chat if they wanted it start badmouthing you and spreading rumors about the incidentals behind why Chet happened to be in that hallway outside of the ladies room in the first place and who it was that might have been spotted having that big drunken loser onto the floor of that ladies room; surely they wouldn’t be doing that sort of gossiping in this group chat.

You were a manager but you hadn’t always been one. You knew for a fact that the lower tier employees had their own group chats and even amongst themselves they most certainly had broken off into even smaller chats where all of the juiciest bits of gossip were spread around.

You’d reached the end of the messages and the occasional buzz of your phone and signaled the arrival of something else was just a mirror of the same sort of sentiment.

‘He always gave me a bad feeling.’

‘Glad I never went on that date with him.’

‘I can’t believe this.’

‘He should be fired. Those woman would have to work with him again.’

This wouldn’t work. There was one person who you would ask to make sure your name and Baekhyun’s name hadn’t been connected to this in any way.

You found Sandi laughing and chatting near the appetizers and small bites tables.

Oh …food. You’d forgotten about food. Your drunken head swam and your stomach growled the moment you saw it and you slinked up silently right beside Sandi with your own little plate ready to grab something to eat.

“Sandi,” you whispered harshly beside her and she jumped and placed a palm over her chest, “I need to talk to you.”

“Jesus—” She groaned with her eyes closed, “someone should put a bell on you.” She mumbled under her breath.

You popped something that looked to be potato based into your mouth and chewed, swallowing quickly so you could drill her for what she might know.

You’d filled up your little plate and grabbed her by the elbow, ignoring the weird yelp she made when you pulled her behind you to some quiet corner where you could hear everything she said while also looking deep into her eyes for signs that she was leaving anything out.

“What happened with Chet?” You looked into her face as you said it and she looked back at you with the slightest pause in her words and mannerism before she actually started talking. When she did move it was to narrow her eyes and she looked over your face and then down over the length of you once before her eyes were back looking in yours.

“Maybe I need to ask you what happened with Chet.”

You looked down at your plate and popped another potato thing into your mouth, quickly grabbing another one because goddamn these were delicious, and you shrugged your face every so slightly as you chewed. You let your eyes land inside hers for a few seconds but then looked away again. You weren’t sure exactly why this woman was able to read you so well but you were quickly melting before her weirdly knowing gaze.

”What happened with Chet?” She said again in a quieter whisper and you sighed in genuine defeat knowing that this was going to take some explaining. She was going to need the whole story from the over the top flirtatious hugs as a greeting that he always insisted on, to the overheard conversation of Chet’s plans to basically conquer you for the sake of his ego and nothing else, as well as the way he seemed to feel that he was somehow owed something from you when you’d promised nothing and never had even given him anything more than professional politeness.

You had found a quiet place for this and had each grabbed fresh drinks and once you got talking you could feel her growing more and more irritated by that man’s terrible behavior. You heard the quiet gasps of surprise and her genuine laughter when you recounted the mop-water incident. You did your best to gloss over the entangled involvement of your boyfriend in this situation; but there was honestly no way around it when you got to the events of this evening that led up to Chet being outright arrested for sexually deviant behavior and the weird guilty feeling that bubbled up inside of your stomach when you thought that maybe he might be punished for something he didn’t even really do; not really.

Yes he’d grabbed you by the wrist and your wrist was still sore right now from it. You didn't know what his plans were with you. You didn't know if the man was just stupid or if he was actually dangerous but you definitely didn’t feel good about him being blamed for something he hadn’t actually done.

Sandi was giggling. You were feeling conflicted and she was too overcome with laughter to be of any actual help. Drunk Sandi was fun for scheming and gossiping, but you were looking for actual help here. When she finally got her giggles under control enough to talk, she did and with her words came the familiar relief you often felt when you shared any sorts of your worries with this woman.

“He wasn’t arrested. He was escorted out by hotel security, yeah, but I never saw any police. I think they just all got excited, you know how rumors are.”

“And you didn’t hear my name or,” you lowered your voice significantly and leaned in closer to her, “Baekhyun’s name connected in any way?”

She was giggling again, leaning closer as she whispered just as you had, “No, I didn’t hear his name, or your name, but Ma’am,” she emphasized the title with an over the top seriousness in her voice, “the way he looks at you…when he’s dancing with you…”

Her eyes had gone wide as her words trailed off and her mouth hung open briefly before she lifted a hand to fan her face dramatically. You had to cover your own face as the snort of giggles broke free from your chest.

“I don't know how anyone would survive that. You are strong. And I’ve never felt more single and more alone than I did watching you two dance — ohhh I’m getting mad just thinking about it.” She stood up with her empty glass and reached out her other hand for you to grab so you could come with her, “Come on, we need another drink.”

You grabbed her hand and quickly pulled her close to you so you could walk arm in arm with all of your silly drunken secrets and shared giggles. Both of your steps were a bit unsteady but together you at least had someone to lean on.

“You know you really are the most beautiful woman here tonight,” you whispered into her ear and she snorted out loud.

“Shut up. I look like a potato. Did you really have to go all out like this? Can’t you consider the rest of us?”

“If you are a potato then you are my loveliest sweet potato,” you leaned a head on her shoulder and she snorted and playfully pushed your head off. The rejection, even if playful, it only made you grip her arm tighter and lay your head on her shoulder more forcefully.

“No, my sweet potato!”

“He better appreciate how lucky he is.” She remarked seriously with a severe look down in your direction and you looked up at her curiously and her serious expression softened and grew into a reticent grin. “I’ll kill him if he hurts you.”

Again and again, Sandi was on your side. Again and again she was such a good friend you even played with the idea that maybe this wonderful woman who you always thought of so fondly might very well be your best friend.

“Sweet Potato,” you called up to her loud enough so that you were sure she heard you call her. She didn’t really respond other than a Quick Look. You gave her a little shake, “Sweet Potato Sandi,” you called again and she laughed and said a very drawn out and extremely informal, “whaaaat?”

“Will you be my Maid of Honor?”

Your question stopped her forward steps and she turned with surprised eyes to look at you. You straightened your spine and looked her right in the face with confidence and sincerity and after a few moments her shoulders sagged and she lifted her eyebrows with a tiny shrug on her face.

“Me?”

You nodded in earnest.

“Okay,” she said quietly with the slightest pink growing across her cheeks and the tiniest smile that fought to break free on her lips.

Eventually though, the smile grew wider and she giggled out an excited squeal that you quickly mirrored with a quick little jump up and down while holding hands in delight.

“I can’t believe you’re getting married!” She whispered through the excitement.

“I can’t believe I’m getting married!” You said just a little too loudly. She quickly shushed you and laughed noisily to hide what you had just said.

“Who’s getting married?” A familiar voice called out over the loud music from the dance floor. Marci had overheard and she was smiling wide with glassy eyes and a curious yet very drunk slur deep within her voice.”

“My sister—”

“My sister,” both you and Sandi said at the exact same time and Marci’s eyes bounced from your eyes to Sandi’s eyes and back to your eyes before her smile sagged and she looked up into the space above her head as she tried to make sense of what she was being told.

“Her sister,” she said and “Her sister,” you said in unison and you had to cover your mouth with your hand to keep from spitting out in laughter. Marci just blinked at you both with a sort of far away and very, very deep look of genuine and hopeless confusion.

“Whose sister?” She finally said and you leaned forward shouting over the music with a wide smile and you nodded your head excitedly, “yes!” You declared, purposefully deceitful and confusing.

You would be sure to add it to your list of many sins.

“Let’s dance!” You shouted and you and Sandi grabbed her hand and pulled the poor girl deep within the chaos of the heat and bodies of people dancing to the thumping beat of the dance song.

Time was a blur of songs and laughter. Occasionally, someone’s hands and someone else’s body bumped up against you.

You had somewhere deep inside of you, a quietly nagging voice that did its absolute best to remind you of things. Proper things. Managerial things like respect and your position as a person to admire and trust amongst these people. Sandi aside, most if these people had to take your instructions at face value and answer your questions, and at times respond to your professional demands. You knew deep down that you could not sever that image of yourself.

And you thought you did pretty well. You laughed with them and danced with them and shared in the joy of the evening while still keeping whatever parts of your mind you needed to keep intact for the sake of the dynamics of the team.

You experienced a few moments of control. You had a handle on it for a couple of songs worth of time; you began to trick yourself into thinking you could handle anything, even while drunk.

But when you saw Baekhyun, a switch was flipped.

He was with some friends; the same ones as before. A group of rowdy young men you hadn’t had the pleasure of meeting yet but he seemed quite close with them.

You saw them laughing together, exchanging in some sort of noisy banter; it felt quite different from the playful way he acted with you; this behavior seemed much more daring, much more primal. If you had to compare it with something you’d aliken it to a group of almost feral, unsupervised boys left to their own devices on a playground together. Had they been younger, you would not have been surprised at all to see blood drawn.

One such ‘game,’ (and you hesitated to use such a word as there were discernible no rules) involved messing with some party favor on the table in a way that was never intended to be used. The result was one unsuspecting member of the group, who hadn’t been paying enough attention to his friends given the amount of danger he should have felt by sitting beside them, this one poor man was smacked right in the back of the head. At least it didn’t seem too painful of a prop to turn into a weapon. He wasn’t the original target but had been smacked quite dramatically nonetheless for the crime of sitting too close to your sweet boyfriend who had actually been aiming for another person.

The result was the same. Someone was hit. Everyone erupted in raucous laughter and a swift punishment was enacted on the offender.

You watched as they all grabbed your boyfriend by the collar, bent him over at the waist and unleashed a folly of smacks upon his back.

The entire thing was loud and violent. Baekhyun’s yells could be heard over the music and he came back up pink in the face and laughing noisily ready for whatever revenge the rules of this game allowed.

There was alcohol involved too. Apparently there was some step in the game that involved shots of alcohol. You couldn’t make sense of any of it.

You knew you were staring but you felt enraptured by his behavior.

Who was this man?

Where did your boyfriend go?

Was this really the same tender man who held you in his arms and night and declared his never ending love and adoration for you?

He was noisy and crass and annoying and he delighted in the ridiculousness and stupidity of this whole thing.

You weren’t sure which one of them noticed you first. But there was a sudden and dramatic shift in the atmosphere that came over the entire group and it manifested as a literal wave of change that surged from person to person starting from someone in the far right edge.

There was straightening of suit jackets and smoothing of hairstyles that had been messed by the ruckus. There was frantic tapping and wide eyes that motioned in your direction followed immediately by whichever onlooker quickly looking toward Baekhyun. Hands were on him, someone was motioning in your direction and their faces had a look of urgency.

They were calling his attention to you because you were looking at him and this in itself was significant to this group of men.

You wondered what they knew about you and about Baekhyun. What all he had told them and was any of it was enough to be used against you in a court of law.

Baekhyun’s eyes found yours and you had already begun to make your way off the dance floor to the table where you’d kept your drink and your bag along with the other girls’ things and you watched the atmosphere of Baekhyun’s group take on a much more secretive vibe.

They were, every single one of them, absolutely terrible spies.

There was an intense whispering happening. It all felt very dramatic. There was someone slapping Baekhyun quite hard on the arm and laughing as if whatever situation he had been placed in was too funny for non-violent enjoyment and Baekhyun turned to the slapping man, quietly bickered back and forth in an annoyed and scolding manner.

Your table was very close to them all and you’d reached for your drink to take a sip when out of the corner of your eye you saw a genuine stumble as a human man surged in your direction.

Someone had pushed him.

They all turned to look away from you the moment you curiously looked at them and Baekhyun completed the two final steps that it took for him to be standing right beside you.

“So…” he said under his breath. He was whispering to you and his cheeks were as pink as his eyes were glassy. Baekhyun cleared his throat and inhaled again, keeping his voice very low so you were the only one who could hear him. “My friends are pressuring me to ask you to dance and it would make their fucking nights if you said yes.”

You were sipping on a beer and you peered your head around his shoulder, catching at least four faces seconds before they abruptly turned away.

You looked back into his face with genuine amusement and you quickly licked your lips and swallowed away how obviously entertained you were by this.

Baekhyun watched your face and a single eyebrow lifted over his eye before he inhaled to whisper again. “You see, they all think I have a crush on you,” he added.

You recognized the upper hand you had in this situation. Should you give them all what they wanted? A bunch of silly men who wanted nothing more than to encourage and possibly humiliate their friend with his little crush.

“Do you not have a crush on me?”

Baekhyun leaned then, allowing his whispered answer to heat the skin of your cheeks with every word that puffed from of his lips.

“Baby, I do not have a crush.” He said the word with a deep and significant drawn oh emphasis on the last word. Then, from parted lips came the air from deep within his lungs that fanned over your face and smelled like the usual sweet scent of him paired with an obvious scent of all of that alcohol that surfed through his bloodstream.

“I am in love with you,” he urged with his focus locked tightly with yours.

His eyes held onto yours until he leaned in close enough for the darkness in his whisper to coat the back of your neck with goosebumps.

“Dangerously,” he growled and when he pulled his face back and his eyelids sank down hard on the after effects of that one word that sounded more like a warning than a term of endearment.

You set the beer back down on the table and reached a hand out to lightly touch his forearm; letting your hand trail slowly down the length of his sleeve until you reached his fingers. From the table of men you heard light gasps

“Let’s make your friends happy then.”

The moment your hand made contact with his and you took that first step toward the dance floor you heard a sound like a commotion coming from the group of men. It was half a cheer and half a groan and you turned back to see several of them taking shots of alcohol and wincing as it went down.

You looked back at Baekhyun in surprise but your boyfriend's face was the absolute picture of innocence.

“Even this is part of the drinking game?”

“I don’t know what you’re talking about.” He smiled sweetly but his bottom lip twitched like it does when he’s being just a little less than honest.

The smallest laugh broke free from your chest. You didn’t want to encourage this, but dammit he was cute when he was acting up.

If either of you had been less intoxicated you might have worked out the timing of this better.

You hadn’t even noticed that the upbeat pop song was about to end until you’d pulled him well onto the dance floor and turned around to face him ready for some manager/ex-secretary appropriate moderately close enough to touch maybe hands and forearms and the occasional only when absolutely necessary waist or chaste hand on a shoulder dancing, when the final happy and peppy beats of the song ended and the lights in the room went surprisingly dim as the notes of a new song began.

If you’d been in your right mind you’d have waited before agreeing to dance with him until you’d cleared the song.

If you’d been in your right mind you might not have gotten genuinely excited once you realized that this particular song; this sexy sultry deep r&b beat and with sexier lyrics; this was a song that you, in fact, had danced to before.

You had, in fact, learned a set of moves to this song, a set of rather risqué and rather provocative moves that you’d learned as part of a group dance fitness class at your local gym, appropriately titled Bad Bitches Dance Fitness.

You had your doubts back when you clicked to sign up for the class. But the instructor had a way of bringing the bad bitch out of you. When the first notes of this song started and you set your face for this, you made sure you looked right into his eyes as you struck the first sexy pose that opened the dance, you learned that not only was the bad bitch still inside of you; but apparently all she needed was some alcohol to come out.

Baekhyun was surprised.

You could see it in his face. His eyes widened and his lips parted as his eyes followed your sexy little prance in a full circle around him and when you reached a fingertip to touch his lips, dragging it down slowly down his chin over his chest, opening your hand to scrape your fingernails straight down the length of him it took him an honest to god moment to recover and react.

You stopped at his belt, thank God — not through any good sense on your own part, but the next move of the dance required you to bend at the hips, slip a bare thigh out with a pointed toe and when you flipped your hair up and let your body roll all the way back up, it was against his warmth as you did it. It was punctuated by the sharp exhale you heard come out from his lungs and the desperate darkness you saw deep in his eyes. The dance went on. It was risky as all hell with plenty of touching and even more flaunting certain parts of your body for the man.

It was dark enough now that not every single bit of this could be seen from all parts of this grand ballroom. The dark lighting and occasional strobing lights gave the illusion of some privacy. His table of friends was close enough though. From somewhere in the direction of their table, you could make out the hoots and hollers from the group of young men who seemed to be very excited to have been the catalyst for this kind of situation.

Baekhyun kept up with you. Despite the fact that he did not know the dance; he was enough of a musician with an obvious background in dance as well to know what might come next. He knew how to anticipate your next move and he moved his body with yours, despite the occasional hard clench you saw in his jaw and sharp gasp for air he took when you did something particularly bad.

You lived for those moments. The bits where he was overcome and so close losing his control.

You didn't have to let your hands travel so slowly over him. You didn't have to grab ahold of your own breasts the way you had done and make an expression that very likely reminded him of fucking you. These bits were never covered in the class; but you had very much lost control over yourself to the alcohol.

Every one of his reactions made you smile. It was a satisfied, truly naughty smile and you looked into his eyes, laying another hand just over his chest as you leaned in close to his face. Your eyes slid from his eyes down to his lips and you leaned in so close. It was dangerous. You swore you could feel the breaths from his mouth against your own. You felt the body heat coming from his smooth skin. You could taste the sweetness of the alcohol on his labored breaths.

You turned your head at the last moment. It was all part of the dance. This was just part of the tease. If you had a chair to sit him down in, you might even sit on his lap, straddling his thighs, letting him feel the way your hips would roll into him to the beat of the music.

But Baekhyun didn’t know the dance. You gasped when your backward step was interrupted by his strong arm wrapped tightly around your waist. He pulled you back into him roughly and your legs parted enough for his firm thigh to slip fully in between your thighs. You felt the dress resist on one side but on the other, that damn slit gave you permission; encouraged you even, practically begged you to straddle his thigh and grind your hips against him. You rubbed against the heat between his legs and you felt him there. Hot and hard and so very teased by you — all night long — nearly at a limit. The temptation was stronger than anything you’d felt before. You wanted to feel that friction pressing into your skin. You wanted his stuttered moans pushed deep inside your ears when you ran the palm of your hand over the rigid shaft you felt below the suit fabric.

A pair of eyes to your left caught your attention. Someone had genuine curiosity written all over their face and someone else’s own dance was interrupted as their eyes wandered over to this strange pair of dancers who really ought not be so close to each other right now, not like this, not in public, not when they shared a strictly professional relationship that never ever crossed any lines. Sure it was quite dark and alcohol was likely the culprit but still…

You needed some distance. He was so warm and he felt so good and his hand around your waist had traveled, slipping his hot hand down your ass and over to grip roughly into the flesh of your bare thigh. You’d had enough sex with this man to know what sorts of touches were a prelude to something more. A touch like this, with as hard as he felt between his legs, this was him drunk and him much too affected by your teasing. This was him having had enough of this. This was him wanting to fuck you.

You felt his hot breath exhale slowly over your ear. There was a throaty moan at the end of it, “f-fuck, baby,” he whined.

This had to stop. You needed to get out of his arms. You took a step back, placing a firm hand against his abdomen, you pushed yourself back hard and you stepped out from between his legs; disguising the movement with another body roll thanks to the perfectly timed out-tro it fit perfectly with your exit.

You had to bite down on your lip and control your breaths. It felt like they were pushing and pulling at your lungs with too much force and Baekhyun’s eyes snapped quickly into yours with that same darkness deep within his blown out pupils.

Your focus was wandering. It had been too much. It had been too obvious. Anyone who had even half paid attention would be able to tell that not only were the two of you already quite deeply in love with each other but the chemistry you felt between him and yourself on this dancefloor alone surely would have told them all that the sex had to be mind blowing.

Your eyes caught movement at your table; of course you’d had plenty of witnesses there. Beside your table stood a group of silently staring men with mouths gaping too surprised to give any sort of reaction and back at your table, you watched sweet Sandi lift a hand to her mouth for a noisy wolf whistle and she started cheering and clapping. The girls beside her cautiously lifted their hands to clap and laugh and the encouragement had a sheepish smile pulling up to your lips and you gave the group the smallest little drunken courtesy. Leaning into their compliments as if you had intended to put on such a show with that dance all along.

Beside you, Baekhyun had a hand on his hip and had just ran a palm over the length of his face, no doubt doing his best job of fixing whatever expression he might have; whatever secrets he might accidentally be showing that should not be shown.

His lips pulled into a smile when you smiled at him and without any other moves to make that could signify to all of your onlookers that the make believe, pretend, it was all for show, movie scene was over now, you lifted a hand in his direction and held it up for a high five. A high five was just the move to get that point across. People that slept together regularly didn’t give each other high fives. This was as platonic a move as you could think of. You were sure he would tease you about this for weeks.

“Great dance!” You said through false brightness loud enough for all of the people waiting for you at your table to hear.

He looked at your hand and then back down at your face and back up at your hand again before he lifted his own hand to give you the weakest, most pathetic excuse for a high five that you've ever received from anyone. His face had the uncomfortable kind of wince that a teenager might sport after being embarrassed in front of their friends by a supremely uncool parent.

Back at the tables you both parted ways and in between Marci’s questions, drilling you about where you learned to dance like that, your ears caught the occasional low guffaws, snickers of laughter and teasing quips bellowing out from the group of men that accosted your boyfriend.

“Man…a high five.”

“That’s rough, buddy.”

There were side conversations and occasional condolences. Some of the men had more hope that others and you were pretty sure they didn’t realize just how loud they were all talking.

“Don’t give up hope, dude.”

“You see the way she dances tho?”

“She a baddie.”

“Way outta his league.”

“If a girl like that gave me a high five I’d just go home and never come out again.”

“Shhh — he’ll hear you.”

You reached for your clutch and pulled out your cell phone; keyed out a short text message and hit send as you pushed yourself up from your seat at your table and let the girls you were going to take a quick bathroom break.

Your message sat unread for long enough for you to make it clear across the dance floor toward the hallway with the bathrooms. You may have imagined it but you could practically feel the change the moment he had read it. You could feel the heat of his eyes watching as you walked away from him. When you rounded a corner you turned back and found his eyes easily as if you’d always known his focus would be only on you.

‘Bathroom by our patio has a lock’

You were walking through the lounge areas past the smaller groups of party goers who congregated there; seeking a little more peace and quiet for some whispered and intimate late night conversations.

Your feet carried you easily through the spaces and with each step as your heels hit the tile floor and echoed all around you it felt like the bang bang bang of a hammer as your hips swayed and you walked with the confidence of the kind of baddie who might propose a forbidden rendezvous such as this.

It was the alcohol. It was the dance. It was the way he smelled and the warmth of his breath as he moaned into your ear. It was the taste of the alcohol on his sweet breath as you inhaled against his face. It felt forbidden, doing something like that with the eyes of so many people on you both. It was the grip of his fingertips as he held onto your thigh and pulled you hard against his dick.

There was no one around. You’d journeyed through several spaces that were completely empty by the time you reached this bathroom door. You pushed the door open and stepped inside rewarded with the silence you knew you’d find in here.

This was a big party but this hotel was so massive the odds of any lost guests finding their way to this end of the building were astronomically small.

The inside of this bathroom had a cozy yet still tasteful feeling. You could tell it was a luxury hotel by the heated hand towels neatly rolled on the surface of the immaculately clean countertop and the floor to ceiling wooden doors that closed off the bathroom stalls. You walked by the cushioned bench and full length mirrors to stand in front of the sinks.

Your reflection looked back at you and you scrutinized the expression you saw in your own eyes. You hardly recognized yourself. Your skin was just a little bit damp looking from the dancing and you were flushed all over. The flush seemed to be more than just from the alcohol, more than just from the dancing and the exertion. It took a couple of deep breaths through your parted lips and a couple of blinks and only then did your mind clear enough for you to actually see yourself clearly. So this is what you looked like to him. So this was the look in your eyes when you wanted him badly enough to seek out a place of privacy even if that place was a bathroom of all places.

You had to inhale a deep breath and look away from the mirror. You felt too crazed for this level of self discovery. You could feel the desperation bubbling up to your surface, your own once carefully curated resolve made so flimsy and weak by a little alcohol … and by him. The light was bright but not harsh and you leaned a hip against the marble countertop as you watched the door for signs of movement.

Baekhyun’s arrival at that bathroom door came with a sound first. Two soft knocks against the wood made with a single knuckle.

You leaned forward and pulled the door handle open and he stumbled a bit until he was leaning against the open doorway with his eyes cast downward, not yet looking at you and definitely not coming inside with nearly the urgency that you would have expected of him right now.

You reached a hand out and grabbed ahold of his. He gave you his hand without protest and when you pulled you had his eyes looking up into yours as he took two steps inside where you urged until he was standing fully inside this silent space in front of you. The door closed behind him.

His brown eyes were on you and his lips were parted as he breathed through those parted lips and after a few moments of watching your face in silence he closed up his mouth and his head sagged back just a little bit.

Having him here in front of you did something to the anxious energy you’d been feeling before he came in. He wasn’t touching you at all except with his eyes but just looking at his beautiful face pulled a smile to your lips and you backed against that countertop again and leaned against it as you simply let the warm feeling take over your chest as the smile grew.

His expression was changing. His face had looked quite collected and controlled when he came in here but the longer he looked at you the more you saw. His focus refused to stay up in your eyes as his had dropped slowly over the length of your body.

“You —” he breathed out with his eyes down on your bare thighs, “you might actually kill me tonight.” He pulled his eyelids up and narrowed his focus on your face as he spoke.

“You know exactly what you’ve been doing to me. Looking like this — in this fucking dress. Dancing like that. Teasing me and then leaving me. Making me — making me desperate.” His hands flew around with every other sentence, pointing and gesturing all over as he ranted.

You felt an unparalleled satisfaction from hearing his many complaints about you from tonight. You knew you were acting up. You knew you had been teasing him and then leaving him wrecked and part of you had been so very weak to him that you simply could not keep yourself under control around him, not when you had been drinking so much. Your only link to reality had been those moments when faced with the very real possibility of exposing your entire relationship to everyone in here that you retreated from him. Running away, giggling the entire time for just how very naughty you were being.

You couldn't stop.

It was wrong of you.

But it was fun. He was fun to tease and the long list of grievances he was airing right now only pulled your lips into a wider smile that you tried your absolute best to bite down on to blank away. It didn’t work, of course. He saw.

“And you’re smiling,” he said with a lift of his eyebrows and his lips pulling into a smile that didn’t have any humor behind it. He closed his eyes as he lifted a hand to rub over the length of his face.

The same naughtiness that you felt pulling at your strings and making you do these terrible, awful, inappropriately teasing things to him all night long pushed you to take a step forward, into his space.

You reached a hand out and dragged your fingers down the front of his shirt. You could feel the warmth of his chest below the fabric. You moved your hand lightly down the length of him dragging fingers along the edge of his necktie, reaching the very end of it you felt the folded edge of the fabric; that strip of unassuming fabric that moved with his breathing. With your fingers at the bottom you only lightly touched the very tip of his tie, the arrow that pointed downward, that part that laid just above his belt. You touched this spot again and again, letting your aim grow sloppy; letting your wandering hand graze lightly below the metal buckle of his belt and all of the warmth and heat you felt there.

“I’m going to get my hands on you,” his lips pursed and he blew out a stuttered breath that shook his bottom lip on the exit and he bit down on his lip briefly as his eyes followed your moving finger. His lips flew open and his tongue darted out to dampen the dryness on his bottom lip before he inhaled a sharp breath to continue his threat, “and there won’t be any stopping me. There will be no party we have to get back to. No songs that just ended.”

“No… fucking … high fives.” He exhaled through the curse word and you took a step into him.

You hooked his belt buckle with your index finger and gave the smallest tug, pulling your bottom lip into the smallest little pout you could manage as you looked down. You should probably pretend to be at least a little bit sorry. It took you a few moments to really sink that pout in deep and it managed to stay put when you looked back up into his face.

Baekhyun scoffed and he shook his head in disbelief. He lifted a hand up your face, bouncing the tip of his index finger lightly twice over the softness of your bottom lip.

“What are you doing? What is that?” His brows were furrowed and his teeth bared, “are you — are you pouting right now? Do you have something to pout about? Something like, oh, I don’t know, a three hour boner, perhaps?”

Your silly attempt at repentance vanished and you pulled your chin inward with the smallest itty bitty eye roll escaping against your will and through the doubts you clearly displayed on your face you mumbled under your breath, “I don't think — it was that long—”

Baekhyun's face flattened. His eyelids and his eyebrows settled into a completely serious expression and you could still feel the doubts and disbelief bouncing around inside of your head, “I mean…three hours—”

Baekhyun’s sudden movement cut off whatever nonsense you were speaking and he grabbed ahold of your right hand, pulled it forward palm open and he planted your hand squarely on top of his, very obviously, fully erect dick. The interruption and presentation of evidence pulled your jaw open as you held him in the palm of your hand and slowly moved upward along the shape of him.

“Did anyone see you come in here after me?” Your whispered question had pulled his eyes open. They had drifted closed with you touching him like this. As it was now, you hadn’t located his tip as he seems to have tucked himself somewhere behind his belt in attempt to just live with his new reality and what you had done to him.

“No idea,” he breathed through short gasps.

Your hand had reached as high as you could move without removing his belt and slowly, with firmer pressure, you moved your hand back down. You felt the push he gave with his hips into your touch.

“Are you mad at me?” You asked it with much of that same teasing smile on your voice and he shook his head quickly back and forth as his left hand flew up to lean against the bathroom door. After a few seconds you heard an audible click when he locked it.

You gasped in surprise when he moved and reached for you, wrapping his arms around your waist and easily lifting you up to sit on the marble countertop. The stone was freezing beneath your bare thighs and your skirt moved up high enough for a peek of your panties to show. It didn’t matter, he pushed his hips between your parted legs with the same roughness as he handled you. He pulled you into him with strong arms and fingertips that dug into your ass and every push, every bit of friction had your legs parting more; had you needing more than what was possible through the layers of clothing that separated your bodies.

“No,” he leaned in close to your face and spoke in a dark whisper, “but I might want to disrespect you a little while I fuck you.”

You didn’t have any time to form a response because his open mouth covered your own. He kissed you roughly and deeply. His mouth devoured yours hungrily and all you could do was gasp for air when he pulled back, sucking your bottom lip deep inside with the pull of his mouth until he let up enough only for his teeth to bite down. You tasted alcohol on his tongue and on his breath and you imagined you tasted the same.

You felt the culmination of tonight’s frustrations in his kiss. You felt consumed and had by him and when the hollow of his mouth released its hold on, you gasped out loud to feel his lips at your neck seconds before those same parted lips hovered just over the skin right above your jugular. He seemed to play with you there, his lips popping light kisses; his tongue darting out to taste the saltiness of your skin and only when you’d let yourself drift into this tenderness, only when you’d relaxed your shoulders and leaned into him as he kissed and tasted your skin, only then did he do it. Without warning; with the next soft and contented moan that left your lips his muscles tensed around you and his fingertips dug in hard again. At the same time, he pushed his face into your neck, right on the same spot he had been tasting, he suddenly bit down. His hard wet teeth were sinking in deep and he was biting down very hard. He made your breath catch in your throat. Your gasp was a half whine, half whimper interrupted by the shock of the pain you felt when he did it. He made your brain feel fuzzy and dizzy. Maybe it was the surprise, or the alcohol or maybe you hadn’t had enough of a chance to catch your breath.

You would have a mark — red or even the blue color of blood vessels burst just below the surface of your skin. You would touch lightly at this spot and feel a slight tinge from this.

Oh, he was everywhere.

You were quickly overwhelmed.

You could feel your heart racing inside of your chest and that overwhelming feeling felt like it might just burst through your skin. Every touch felt like more than the previous. He was constricting and tightening and he was lifting and pulling and pushing and the room spun; it spun in the confines of this tiny bathroom it spun and it seemed to come to some sort of a comeuppance. He was standing and lifting, his arms clung so tightly around your waist you lost the air inside of your lungs and when you opened your eyes he had found the padded bench and perched you right on top of his lap. You had somehow lost the panties.

“I want to fuck you so badly,” his breathing was rapid and heavy and his face was buried somewhere in your chest. “I don’t even know where to start.”

“You have to take your pants off first.” Your breath caught when you felt his mouth open up over your nipple; right on top of the sticker that covered it and he pulled it into his mouth, sucking, soaking it with his spit and biting with his teeth.

“You’ve got me so fucked. I’m going to cum the second I get inside of you.”

He won. His efforts won over the stupid sticker and you felt the sting of the sticky glue pull hard against your skin; against the most sensitive spots. “I don’t want that. I’m not ready for this to be over.”

You cried out from the pain as he ripped it off with his teeth in a single motion. “You feel so good. You taste so good. You’re so fucking hot.”

As quickly as the sticker was gone and the sting radiated through your nerve endings his mouth was there, pulling your breast into his hot mouth, sucking and biting. Pulling away and leaving you soaked.

You moved your hips over his lap. The firmness lined up perfectly with you; everything about Baekhyun always fit you perfectly. You could feel that desperate friction bumping against your clit with each pass. You chased that feeling, grinding your hips over him again and again, pressing your center atop his stiffness and delighting in the wild grunts that escaped the back of his throat as you did it.

”Don’t,” he breathed out, “don’t you dare,” he was whining with his arms wound around you tight, holding you down, making you stop the movements. You knew what he was saying. You could feel the change in him.

“So take them off, Baek.”

You pushed off of him first. With the way this was going he would cum in his pants before you got to feel him inside of you. His arms relaxed enough to let you go and you stood in front of him, the dress somehow still on, although pushed up very high on your thighs, but both shoulder straps pulled down and your bare breasts exposed, every single mark from his mouth and fingertips flashed flush and hot on your skin. You still had on the stilettos and he stared at you blinking and breathing and begging himself for just a few more minutes of control.

With each of his breaths came small facial twitches. His eyelids pulled down on the exhale and his eyebrows pulsed on his forehead. His eyes closed and opened again and his lips twitched, “You are unfair,” he whispered.

At last, you heard his movement. His hands were at his belt and the quick sounds of that metal buckle and the slide of his zipper resisted against the pressure behind it. He lifted himself into an unsteady standing position and pushed the pants off completely, leaving them crumbled on the floor beside the suit jacket, and the tie, and the shoes.

You lifted a hand behind the dress to find the zipper.

“Leave it on,” he said, reaching for you with both hands; you were spun in place and the heat and warmth of the length of his body warmed your back as his hands wrapped around your waist, one gripping your breast roughly and the other he slipped down between your legs. He coated your back. Behind you, behind your ass you felt him slipping easily between your legs. You were too wet for any resistance at all.

You were moving. He was walking and pushing you forward back toward that padded bench he had been sitting on but his fingers slipped within your wetness as he did it, bumping against your already too wet; too worked up center made it so hard to focus on much.

He moved you; pushing your shoulders down and holding your waist up tight, making you bend down in front of him and your hands hit the bench in front of you, your knees resting on the edge of it and your ass in the air. There wasn’t any dinigity in this. This was fucking. It was desperate and animalistic. His palms ran over the curve of your ass, pushing the fabric of your dress out of the way, slipping fingers in between your legs roughly as he did it. You felt more than desperate. Each of his touches was superficial. Each time, not quite enough. He was so close to you though and his knee nudged hard against the inside of your own knee, making you spread your legs further for him.

Baekhyun was shuffling behind you. Fidgeting with something and whatever it was, it didn’t last long enough for you to care because he was back behind you, this time his movements felt more purposeful. You felt the pad of his thumb dip between your folds and he rubbed over your clit. It made you whimper and moan and push back into him. He knew how to make you cum but he wasn’t doing it. Perhaps it was to buy himself some time to calm down. Maybe he was paying you back for all of the teasing.

“Baby, you are dripping.”

You knew you were. You could feel it. With how long and drawn out this evening had been; with how much you had been denied by him; you were sure you’d be a complete mess.

You felt the soft roundness of the tip of him, slipping in between your wetness as he pushed himself between your folds. This — this was what you needed. This was what you wanted him to do. The action made you squirm and push against him. You needed to feel this again. As he pushed in again, he was also touching you only this time you heard something unexpected. It was a striking and familiar sound that rang out. You knew this sound. This was a cell phone camera shutter. It made your eyes open back up and you looked behind yourself for answers.

Baekhyun was holding your phone and he leaned to reach for you; covering your entire back with his heat and weight he pushed the phone screen forward into your line of sight and you saw it. You saw the picture he had taken with your own cell phone. “Do you see how fucking pretty you look? So wet and needy.” His whisper into your ear had you reeling. He was still moving behind you, pushing his tip against your clit again and again; but not yet entering you.

Your eyes took in the image on your phone screen. His dick in the shot, pushing inside your wetness. Each push from him felt that much more intense with this image in front of you. You felt close to losing control and your eyes drifted closed as you dropped your head and gripped the sides of the bench tightly.

“Do you want a video?” He whispered this next question just at the moment when you felt the building pressure from his actions against your clit. He knew he was bringing you closer as he asked you this question. Your head was swimming. You couldn't process what he was asking you. “Do you want to see what I see when I fuck you?”

Did you want that?

Did you?

You reached for the phone, grabbed it and held it up for him to take. You felt his thumb replace his dick and he was rubbing again. The wetness between your legs increased and your breathing grew frantic.

“Is that a yes? Can I record a video of me fucking you?”

You nodded your head. You already felt it. Your legs were shaking and you felt the trembling as the wave of climax took your breath and your functioning mind and you cried out. It took you a second before you opened your eyes and your phone was gone from your hand.

He pushed inside of you then; in a single rough fluid motion and the inundation took you by surprise, making you cry out again. The sounds, the low grunts with his effort, the deep moans of pleasure, the whispered curses that flew from his mouth, all of the sounds from him hit you just as hard as each rough thrust into you. You felt a mess. The slight pain mixed with pleasure you felt with each thrust had you grasping to hold on to something. There was a new sensation. Something different and unexpected and he did something with his hand, pressing with his thumb in between your ass as he fucked you and you felt crushed; you felt dizzy and overcome and he was shaking and trembling; holding on so tightly to you in this way that made you lose every single thought inside of your head along with every bit of oxygen inside of your lungs.

You both must have lost your damn minds, doing this here, in this place.

You knew the oxygen must have been returning because this thought popped into your head after a few moments of clarity. Baekhyun plopped himself down onto the bench beside you and wrapped his arms around you waist, pulling you to sit down on top of his bare lap. You could still feel the mess spreading between your skin and his skin but you were too spent to care much. He was holding you tightly into him and you leaned your head back to rest against his shoulders, leaning your temple against his.

In front of you Baekhyun held up your phone. The screen was illuminated with the filthiest thumbnail of a video you’ve ever seen in your entire life, outside of occasionally desperate porn videos that you watched sometimes when you were lonely and frustrated with life.

You could feel every rough exhale from his lungs warming your neck and you turned your head to look at his profile out of the corner of your eye.

He pressed play on the video and it came to life, the real life, sinful sounds of the sex you’d just had with him. You felt oddly transfixed watching this. Not nearly as embarrassed to have this view of yourself as you thought you might have been and you felt even more surprised to see what he had done while in the height of both of your orgasms that had pushed you so over the edge at the time. The ball of spit from his mouth that landed right over your asshole. The thumb he pushed inside. Your mouth flew open and you turned to look at him.

His eyes were down on the phone and he was blinking slowly as he licked his lips and bit down. You lifted a finger to point at the screen.

“Is that what that was?” It came out as less accusatory and more of a curiosity. And you saw the tiniest grin pull at the corner of his mouth before he leaned his chin over and playfully bit you on the shoulder.

“Can I have this video too?” He whispered the tiny request and looked over at you after you didn’t respond immediately. “You can say no.” He said softly with a shrug. “You can just delete it if you want to.”

“Don't forget to delete it again from your recently deleted folder, if you do.” Something in his voice sounded quite pathetic and sad as he reminded you about the importance of being diligent when deleting your sex tapes. “I’m sorry I got drunk and spit on you and put my thumb in your butt and made a drunk sex tape with you, if that’s what you’re being quiet about.”

You covered your mouth just in time to catch the snort of laughter that erupted from your chest. This man’s post nut clarity was hitting him very hard and very quickly. From between your legs, and all over his bare lap you felt the wetness move out of you with every laugh and his face turned into a genuine wince as he seemed to hold his breath when he felt it too. You tried your best to stop the laughing but you were too amused by this nonsense.

“You can send it to yourself,” you finally said after recovering from the manic giggling. “I’m not being quiet. I am in shock.”

He bit down on the inside of his bottom lip and the smile on his face grew wide and self satisfied and he was moving his hands very quickly over your phone screen as if you might change your mind and take it back any second now.

“But you liked it,” he sing-songed with a playful shake of his head and you heard a buzz somewhere from the floor where his own phone was still tucked away inside his pocket.

“I have it now,” he said triumphantly and he abruptly turned his head to face you with a bright playfulness deep within his eyes. You looked back at him curiously, feeling that something was brewing here.

His smile widened and he, very slowly, and very annoyingly, lifted a hand up into the air in front of you, palm facing you. He held it up with that same wide smile on his face. This wasn’t a sweet smile. This was a teasing smile. His eyes were full of mischief.

“Great sex,” he whispered and those same eyes looked crazed as he motioned toward his waiting hand with the smallest whine that came from the back of his throat when you didn’t instantly give him what he wanted. He gave his raised hand the smallest shake for emphasis.

“I’m not doing that,” you said, pulling yourself up off his lap as you headed away from him toward the bathroom stall so you could clean up the mess you had all over the lower half of your body.

“Oh come on,” he said, standing up and following you. “Do it. Great sex. I said ‘Great sex.’ You have to do it. I feel,” he inhaled a trembling and very dramatic breath, “extremely cheated right now.” His hand was still up and he was chasing you around the bathroom with it.

You tried to close the stall door but he pushed his thigh through the space and after a few seconds you saw that same hand push through, palm up, stupid and expecting — no — demanding that you cooperate.

You would never know peace in your entire life if you didn’t do this.

You were also certain that you would never know peace in your entire life if you did it too, because both scenarios would encourage his ridiculousness.

You lifted the quickest hand and slapped his palm.

“Woo!” He shouted, “Got the high-five!”

#exo #exo fanfiction #exo smut #baekhyun #exo fic #exo scenario #baekhyun smut #baekhyun fanfic #exo story

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ceridescent · 1 year

Text

sweater weather — m., wanda.

wanda maximoff x female!reader

summary: you and wanda decided to have a short you-and-me time apart from the city, innocent of the monster lurking in the maximoff's beach house.

tags: fluff, smut.

warnings: dirty talk, praise, & vaginal fingering.

word count: 1, 361

author's note: last day of autumn so here's a one-shot with both you & wanda beloved. :* (in actuality i wrote this on november 2022 so...very inspired by fall.) other than that, enjoy!

18+ only. men and minors DNI.

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both you and wanda’s giggles echo throughout the chilly room, posing silly faces for silly photos to distract yourselves from the autumn air.

wanda growled, “i’m a bear!” and you snapped a picture of it; her body on top of yours, your cellphone’s lenses shoved in front of her gorgeous, scrunched face.

you kept a pebble inside her jeans pocket a few hours ago, one souvenir you will forget about in the morning. you made a bet with yourself: whoever finds it first would do anything she asks for for a week. since you’re forgetful, that would be an impossible event.

“wanda, i’m cold,” you moaned out, causing her arms to wrap tighter around your figure. she rubbed them up and down your clad sides, “i’m so sorry baby,” she whispered, kissing your neck multiple times for an apology.

“i’m getting cold too,” her teeth chattered as she said so, the sound alarming you. your eyes widened and lifting your neck, you scanned her through the dimly lit bedroom. a mewl fell from your lips. taking wanda’s hands, you placed them inside her gray sweater wrapped around your warm-blooded body, in hopes to ease her troubles in the slightest bit.

wanda, your girlfriend, brought you to her family’s beach house today, it was perfect. she was so thrilled to have you alone in a quiet, enthralling space that she had forgotten about the dormant thermostat lying idly in the house, its purpose unable to attend to your now shivering bodies in the peak of fall.

both of you only noticed it after you bathed with your clothes on, shivering and stiff in your stand whilst wanda held you in place, removing your dripping garments.

wanda is naked right now, on top of you. she only has a thin white blanket covering her, not enough to keep her warm like you are at the moment. consciousness insists the longer you stay put in the beach house, worried that she would end up like jack from titanic. you still wonder how he didn’t fit atop the door.

your lover consumed two bottles of alcohol so she can’t be behind the wheel, drive yourselves back home to her cozy, warming apartment. and you’re a baby who’s wrapped around her girlfriend’s hoodie, having zero knowledge about traffic law.

“love,” you purred, rubbing her arms inside the gray sweater, easing the coldness off her fingers. you squeezed them and clamped yours around them, spreading your warmth through her.

“love, let me keep you warm.” wanda mumbled before she took her turn rubbing her almost-warm hands on your sides, her movements constricted due to the small space inside her gray sweater; her kisses landing higher from the side of your collarbone to your jawline.

“wanda,” you hummed and tilted your head to the side, allowing better access for her pink lips to soothe the chill away from your bodies. the brunette repositioned herself, pressing her core against your thigh, languidly grinding on it.

humming, she locked your lips with hers, hard and quick. you were kissing wanda’s smile when your neck craned to reach her. “be still,” mumbling the words full of your kisses but you shook your head, slithering your digits in her hair, scratching her scalp to pull out a moan from your lover. you grinned, inserting your tongue in her mouth before she could dominate yours.

“ah!” you hissed when wanda’s fingers found your nipple, pebbled and puckered to her liking. “take it off,” she growled and hoisted your back with her left hand, the other impatiently taking off her sweater from you.

wanda’s hair is tangled by your fingers. finding your breasts, she squeezed and massaged them tightly before pinching your nipples, grazing her flat tongue on your stomach.

“please,” you whimpered, the tingling sensation spreading throughout your bundle of nerves, your hips thrusting for friction, having a mind of its own. wanda held you down, her slender hands pinning you against the mattress.

“how bad do you want to stay warm?” she asked you, the color of her eyes blown to charcoal black.

“s-so much, wanda. i need you so much,” you responded, taking her hand and shoving it to the place you need it most, showing your desperation. she only chuckled.

goosebumps flared all over your hot skin the minute she took off her leggings from your legs, the autumn air aimed at your dripping core. wanda hummed in satisfaction, her pussy clenching at the sight of your nakedness under her.

moans were spilling out of your needy mouth, begging her to get into you, but she just shook her head. drinking you in with her dilated pupils, she watched your aroused frame craving for her touch. with her thumbs on either side of your pelvic bones, she trailed her hands downward the middle of your thighs, peppering kisses inside. her touch came lower until she reached the end of your body, massaging each toe to tease you until you’ve had enough, kicking her hands away.

“not there, wanda, please fuck me now.”

she grinned at you, her face sickeningly evil. she crawled back on top of you, resting her thighs on yours, grinding, “i’m a bear!” growling as you groaned in heat.

“you want a bear to fuck you, baby?” her middle finger slid up and down your slick, and you gasped, nodding your head. “you want my fingers inside your pussy?”

aggressively you nodded your head, finally finally finally, almost there — the tips of her middle and ring finger easing through your entrance. “yesyesyes- oh!” and you sucked her right in.

“so tight,” wanda purred and covered your mouth with her own, drinking your moans. “so warm, baby. you make me so warm.”

you whimpered and nodded your head, unable to speak, as you were only able to feel the way her fingers glided in and out of your hole.

feeling yourself drip down the mattress, wanda’s breath fanned your neck as she whispered encouragement, urging you to meet her thrusts so you could warm up even more.

she wrapped her lips around your left nipple when your jaw couldn’t keep it locked any longer, your moans turning to cries. she grunted against your limping body, your nails digging her back.

wanda cussed multiple times with how beautiful you looked underneath her, desperate and needy to come apart. she made a promise to take your cum out of you, not letting one drop go to waste. with the way she fucked the coolness out of your system you didn’t notice how you’re warming her up in the process too, relishing it.

“we together- work so-so well,” you said in broken lines and wanda smiled through it, “my smart girl,” praising your random thought and kissing your forehead. she slammed harder, pounding your pussy.

“you feel that baby?” you whimpered, your cries getting louder. wanda knew you were close. with your fingers tightening in her locks, your hips going in tandem with her thrusting, and your begging. god, your begging. she couldn’t get enough of it.

and so she curled her fingers to hit your g-spot, biting her lips as she stared you down — your back arching like a cat — so ravishingly fuckable. “such a good doll for me.”

you fell apart with her teeth clamped around your hip, thrashing around her with screams, the bedsheets wrinkled at best by your fists, incoherently muttering curses and thank you’s, riding wanda’s fingers.

she was licking the mark on your hip when you chanted her name, “wanda wanda wanda,” her thrusts becoming languid, lulling your high.

“my best girl,” she husked and you were rolling your eyes at the sight of her sucking her dripping fingers full of your cum.

she kissed your panting mouth after, mewling, “taste sweet, my baby,” and you kissed her back with leisure, your body limp, exhausted, and completely warm.

“thank you, my love,” you mumbled when she pulled away, settling her core against your left thigh. you guided her hips, running them up and down. wanda sighed, submitting to your direction, smiling.

panting the words, “you’re welcome, my love,” she slickened your thighs with her cum.

#wanda maximoff #wanda maximoff x reader #wanda maximoff x you #wanda maximoff smut #wanda maximoff fanfiction #wanda maximilf #marvel smut

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lees-chaotic-brain · 7 months

Note

(Yuji) Pink, (Angst to Fluff) Pine, #1: Close to soulmate = Warm/hot. Far from soulmate = Chilling/Cold

I have these thoughts on this prompt setting, and i wanna add it. It's your choice to follow or do your own thing!

Yuji lives in Sendai, Reader lives in Tokyo. (Cold)Yuji eats finger, moves to Tokyo. Feels warm, but worries because of curses harming soulmate. But tries to find soulmate, but mission stops him. (Is sad & frustrated)

Reader feels warm, searches all over Tokyo for Yuji, but very bad luck. (Starts warming, gets cold immediately.)

Yuji meets Reader on rainy cold night after Yuji mission. He didn't notice the warmth until Reader says, "I FINALLY FOUND YOU!! Where the heck have you been?! I've been looking fir ya for weeks!!"

- 🌗 Anon

Cutie (Yuji x Reader Soulmate AU)

CW: light swearing, angst to fluff, mentions of death, reader has female pronouns,

Event Masterlist | Event Guide | JJK Masterlist | Blog Navigation

All his life, Yuji had been cold. At least, until he moved to Tokyo. All the sudden, he began to feel fluctuating waves of warmth, not enough to reach the frigid space inside of him that was the absence of you, but enough that he was able to experience little tastes of warmth throughout his days at Jujutsu Tech.

At first, all he could think of was finding you, his soulmate, and that was all he could talk about with his new friends.

In response to his constant gushing, Fushiguro told him that it was fine if he wanted to go find his soulmate, but that he would have to be prepared to face the reality of the peril he was introducing to your life.

Especially since he was the vessel of Sukuna. If the higher ups found out who his soulmate was, there was a high probability that they would use you to get to him.

Despite the warning, Yuji laughed it off, and said he doubted anyone cared enough about him to go to such extreme lengths, and that even if they did, he would be able to protect you.

Shrugging, Fushiguro told him that it wasn't his soulmate, and wished him luck.

When the three first years were called for their first official mission together, Yuji was thrilled, but for a different reason than the others.

The entire car ride down, he kept getting warmer and warmer, meaning he was getting closer to you.

Briefly worrying about your safety due to your proximity to the assignment, he considered trying to find you before the mission so that he could make sure you left the area. But he eventually decided that the mission was more urgent, and that he would just have to deal with it quickly so that he could go find you.

Then shit hit the fan.

Fighting the semi-special grade cursed womb he realized three things.

One, he wasn't going to die a proper death like he had hoped.

Two, he wasn't strong, and he wasn't special. He was just a scared boy who had deluded himself into thinking he wasn't.

And three, he wasn't okay with dying. He didn't want to die. He wanted to live a normal life, to find you, to fall in love. But that wasn't what fate had in store for him.

Then Fushiguro's signal had allowed him to hope. Just a little bit. And even though the hope lasted mere minutes, he clung to it, only to have it destroyed as Sukuna ripped his heart out, leaving Yuji with an impossible choice.

Oh, how he wished to be selfish. How he wished to allow Sukuna to remain in control, to continue living. But the growing warmth signaling that he was getting closer to you as Sukuna approached the limits of the veil throwing Fushiguro around made the seemingly impossible decision a hell of a lot easier.

If Sukuna was moving towards you, he needed to be stopped. Plus, Yuji's raven haired friend was quickly tiring and wouldn't last much longer.

And with that, Itadori Yuji resigned himself to death.

─── ⋅ ∙ ∘ ☽ ༓ ☾ ∘ ⋅ ⋅ ───

Ever since a couple weeks ago, you began to feel little waves of warmth.

Knowing that it meant that your soulmate was now closer to you, you had been thrilled, sometimes wandering the city using the warmth as a guide to see if you could find them.

But yesterday you felt the warmest you had ever been, with the comforting heat increasing throughout the day.

So why had it suddenly felt like you had been plunged into an icy pit. The cold had numbed your entire body, causing you to drop everything in your arms as you fell to your knees, teeth chattering.

Inexplicable hysteria had bubbled in your throat, accompanied by a feeling deep in your gut that your soulmate was gone. That he had gone somewhere you couldn't follow.

Dimly you remember sensing your friend's panicked face and voice, obscured by the tears trickling down your face and the cotton stuffing your ears.

"C-cold."

You had managed to choke out, curling into a ball as your vision went dark.

When you had opened your eyes again, you were bundled up at home in bed.

The next day went by in an excruciating blur of heat packs, baths and electric blankets as you tried to warm your numb bones and cope with the growing suspicion that your soulmate had died.

So why, twenty four hours later, did you feel an ember of warmth again?

Suddenly all of the blankets and layers that had barely taken an edge off the ice in your bones seemed stifling.

Getting out of bed, you were glad for the relief from the cold, but the the perplexion set in.

Why did your bond cause you to suddenly go cold? What happened to your soulmate that made it react like that. You wanted answers. So you were going to get them.

─── ⋅ ∙ ∘ ☽ ༓ ☾ ∘ ⋅ ⋅ ───

Weeks after the cursed womb incident, Yuji sat outside in the rain. He wasn't allowed to leave campus, but he had found a quiet clearing that helped to silence his thoughts.

At least it normally did, but a deranged looking teenager had just dragged herself out of the woods, bringing with her a feeling of delightful warmth that seemed to fill his heart and soul.

─── ⋅ ∙ ∘ ☽ ༓ ☾ ∘ ⋅ ⋅ ───

"THERE YOU ARE!!!!"

You bellowed, feeling a delicious warmth spread from your chest all the way down to your fingers and toes, making it so you didn't even feel the icy bite of the rain falling on you.

"I'VE BEEN LOOKING FOR YOU FOR WEEKS!!!!"

You start striding towards the gobsmacked boy who you were sure was your soulmate.

You stopped in front of him before crouching so you were eye to eye and extending your hand.

"Hi. I'm your soulmate."

You said, before telling him your name.

Slowly recovering from his shock, he responded.

"Uh, I-I'm Itadori Yuji....um how did you get here?"

"Well, after that awful scare you gave me a couple of weeks ago, I've been following the warmth around the city trying to hunt you down. And the bond led me here I guess."

"Ohh, okay."

He perked up.

"I've always wanted to meet my soulmate! Oh my gosh I have so much to learn about you! What's your favorite candy? No, wait. Do you like meatballs? I can make some killer meatballs!"

You tried to suppress a smile at his rambling, but he noticed, and suddenly his eyes widened.

"And I just noticed, I mean you're covered in mud and your hair's a mess, but you are really cute. Like really really cute. Like pretty. And I mean I always imagined what you would look like, I was kinda hoping like Jennifer Lawrence, but holy shit you're like gorgeous. Like-"

You cut him off by kissing him, wrapping one hand behind his neck.

He froze, but after a second kissed you back.

You pulled away and rested your forehead against his.

"Sorry 'bout that."

You breathed, grinning.

"For the record, I think you're pretty cute too."

Yuji's brain short-circuited.

"Be my girlfriend."

He blurted, before slapping a hand over his mouth.

"I'm sorry! I shouldn't have said that! I mean, I'd love it if you were my girlfriend, but I understand if you're not ready-"

He stopped, the sound of your laughter cutting him off.

"I'd love to be your girlfriend."

You kissed him again, then smirked.

"Cutie."

─── ⋅ ∙ ∘ ☽ ༓ ☾ ∘ ⋅ ⋅ ───

Thanks so much for requesting this!! I had a lot of fun writing it! Likes and reblogs are always appreciated! Keep the event requests coming guys!

#lee's 1 year anniversary event #lee's brain writes #itadori yuji x female reader #itadori x reader #itadori yuji x reader #jjk x reader #angst to fluff #soulmate au #jjk one shot

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jupiter-soups · 6 months

Text

mischief nights

event masterlist

prompt: The five times that you and Ellie prank Joel, and the one time he tries to get you both back.

warnings: fluff, mild angst, fix-it fic

word count: 8.2k

a/n: happy halloween my sweet ghouls!

one. 2023.

Movie night in Jackson was always your favorite. Popcorn was one of the few snacks that was still readily available during an apocalypse, and you would have stopped by the theater just for that, even if they weren’t showing a recently recovered copy of Ghostbusters. It was already your second time shuffling down the aisle to reup your popcorn bucket, barely an hour into the movie, when you noticed her. The young girl that you had briefly spotted with Tommy’s brother earlier that same day. You had wanted to go over and welcome them to Jackson, but after hearing some of the chattering from the town’s most prolific gossipers, you were just left confused. Tommy’s brother, the hunter, the smuggler, the bad, bad man who couldn’t possibly be redeemed, had shown up to town with a random kid under his protection?

The girl seemed upset. Well, more annoyed, you could’ve guessed from the look of her scrunched up face, as she began to stomp out of the building into the cold fall air. You decided to follow her, abandoning your popcorn on the side of the table to trail after her with the hopes that you could maybe avoid her getting lost the second she leaves the lit up main street or, worse, sick from the brutal chill in the air.

“Hey!” You called out loudly, catching up to her in a few large strides when she hesitated and turned to look at you suspiciously. “Are you alright?” You hoped that your encouraging smile was comforting enough for her to speak to you. Her annoyed huff in response made you think that it most likely just pissed her off even more. Clearly not one for pleasantries, then.

“Yeah, I’m doing great! Just tired of sitting around, watching a stupid movie while–.” She cut herself off with an abrupt side glance at you, clearly catching herself before she said too much. You decided not to push her to continue..

“Fair enough. Want me to walk home with you? Make sure you don’t get lost, or whatever?” You had heard earlier in the day (fine, you may have been eavesdropping on the town gossips’ conversations) that they were staying in a recently unoccupied home just opposite Tommy and Maria’s place, and you knew that it was a slightly confusing journey back there from the theater, especially when it was dark out.

“I can do it myself. It’s just down there.” The girl insisted stubbornly, scowl unchanging, while gesturing vaguely to the right. You raised a single eyebrow at her, knowing for a fact that she just made that up.

“Come on, it’s fine. I’ll just make sure you get home safe.” You began to walk in the exact opposite direction from where she pointed and she reluctantly followed, grumbling under her breath the entire time even though you knew she had already started to recognise the street. “What’s your name?” You ask, quickly giving her your own when you notice her slight hesitation.

“Ellie.” She finally muttered, sniffing from the cold, not looking up from where she walked.

“Are you Tommy’s niece?” You asked, trying to piece together why exactly Maria and Tommy seemed so flustered earlier in the morning. As far as you knew, Tommy’s niece had passed away a long time ago, but maybe that was the reason for the big confusion?

“No. Joel is just just helping to…deliver me somewhere. Tommy is his brother and he lives here, so I guess Joel wanted to stop and be with family for a while.” Her voice turned bitter at the end, and you realized that she wasn’t exactly thrilled to be in Jackson, left to her own devices after traveling with someone for however long they had been on the road. He might not have been her biological father, but he was clearly someone important to her. Someone more than just a delivery man.

Ellie continued in frustration, face showing clear disgust at the prospect of being stuck in Jackson. “And now I have to just be like you guys, and…wander around pretending everything’s good outside these walls? Worry about stupid movies and having fun? No thanks. Maybe that’s what Tommy likes,” her voice turned mocking as she spit out the name, “but some of us have real shit to worry about.” She folded her arms across her chest stubbornly. “What do you people even do all day?”

You pushed the small gate open at the foot of the property and allowed Ellie through first. “Well, we patrol the area, work the farmland, and do whatever else is needed to keep this place running. People your age though, they get to go to school and make friends.”

Ellie rolled her eyes at your words. “Come on, it’s not that bad! Halloween’s soon, and if you guys are sticking around then you can take part in the festivities!” You persevered.

That seemed to garner some sort of positive reaction, as Ellie eyed you warily while she fished the front door key from her bag. “Festivities? Sounds dumb.”

“We make candy for the kids and throw a big party.” You could tell that you were getting colder. Her eyebrows had slightly lowered, interest visibly waning. “People your age celebrate mischief night the night before!” Yes. Warmer. Ellie’s eyes narrowed at you, waiting for you to continue. “That’s where they pull silly pranks on all of the adults.” You mentally applauded yourself as she spun around to face you fully, one hand still on the doorknob, mid-twist.

“Pranks?”

“Oh yeah, it’s so much fun! The library has this big box of decorations and costumes, and just a bunch of random shit that people can dig through, and usually the kids get up to all kinds of trouble. Within reason, obviously. Nobody goes too far. Just harmless fun.” You winced at the memory of a teen several years ago who had thought it would be funny to imitate the sound of a clicker around a man who was notoriously jumpy. After a very lucky miss and two entire months of plumbing duty, the other teens learned not to make that mistake.

“Interesting.” Ellie nodded in quiet contemplation before snapping out of it and swinging open the door. “Well. Bye.” She let the door slam in your face behind her

—--------------

Two days had passed before you saw her again, this time in the stables wearing a smug smile on her face as she spoke with a man that looked a fair amount like Tommy Miller. Joel. Ellie’s not-dad.You watched the conversation, glad to see that she seemed to be in much better spirits, leaning against a post while the brothers discussed some details. You gave her a wave in passing as you headed to the back of the stables, and she waved back, catching the attention of Joel, who had now taken a step away from Tommy to look at you in confusion.

“Ellie, who’s this?” His voice was deep and gruff, and the timbre of it made you feel weirdly nervous.

You quickly introduced yourself, extending a hand to shake his, while Ellie explained, “Met her the other day. She showed me the way back home after I left the movie.”

“Oh. Well, thank you, ma’am. I’m sorry if she caused you any hassle.” His hand was huge around yours, and the nerves only seemed to get worse.

“It was no bother, really.” You retracted your hand from his grip quickly, flexing it for a second by your side in the absence of his touch, before giving him a bright, hopefully friendly, grin. “Happy to help! You two heading out today?”

Joel nodded. “We got about a week’s journey ahead of us, but hopefully it’ll be over with soon enough.” He tilted his head at Ellie, who was kicking at the dirt floor in apparent boredom. “You packed everythin’ already?”

“Yep!” She responded brightly, clearly eager to get back on the road and far away from Jackson.

“Well, I suppose we should be leavin’ then. It was nice to meet you.” His eyes trailed down your face, briefly flitting to your body in a way that made you feel hot, before he wrenched them away from you, turning to grab his bag from the floor. As he lifted it to his shoulder, the slightly unzipped front gave way to the heavy contents of the bag, causing a few items to topple out onto the floor.

“Jesus Christ!” Joel exclaimed, jumping back about a foot away from the offending object, eyes wide in fear at whatever it was that he saw. You also jumped, mostly from the loud echo of his yell, and both you and Tommy, who had been rummaging through some extra supplies during your introductions, immediately went on high alert, searching for whatever it was that he saw.

As it dawns on you that what lay there in the hay was a rubber snake, you turned to Ellie slowly, her face in a guilty, yet slightly amused, grimace.

“Uh. It was just a prank?” She explained feebly to Joel, who had only started to regain color once Tommy picked up the cheap halloween decoration.

“Goddammit, Ellie. What is wrong with you?” He questioned in disbelief, eyes wide and voice incredulous.

“I’m sorry!” She didn’t sound that sorry, but you continued to watch in silent amusement as she tried desperately to explain. Tommy didn’t have the same courtesy, immediately bursting out into uproarious laughter. “I was mad at you, and I remembered that you were really freaked out about that snake in the woods, and… she,” Ellie pointed at you in an accusatory way, “told me that it was normal for people to do tricks and pranks before Halloween!”

Joel’s face snapped in your direction and you thought you noticed a tinge of pink across the height of his cheeks as he finally seemed to remember that you were still standing there.

“Uh…” You nervously started, not really sure how to speak now that you were the recipient of that stare. “I’m…sorry?” You finished lamely. Tommy snorted behind you at your pathetic attempt, and you shot daggers at him with a pointed glare over your shoulder.

Joel took in a deep breath before he shook his head and gave Ellie an irritated glance. “You have nothin’ to be sorry about, I know it’s all this one’s doing.” He gestured towards Ellie with a tilt of his head, ignoring how she was starting to lose the battle against her laughter. “Let’s just get goin’, alright?” He threw out, defeated, before climbing up onto the horse and extending a hand to pull Ellie up behind him.

You watched as Tommy brought over a few more items to pack into the saddlebags on the side of the horse, and gave them privacy as they spoke their goodbyes. As they left the stables in a slow trot towards the large gates, you spotted Joel looking at you one last time over his shoulder. You hoped that you would see the two of them again, someday.

two. 2024.

You did see them again, though much later than you had expected. Things were different now, and you could tell that the instant they returned. Joel seemed to have some sort of weight off of his shoulders, while Ellie was a little more reserved than you remembered. That was why, despite it being ridiculous and unsafe, you were relieved when Ellie jumped out from behind the bush to scare you.

You screamed. She screamed. You both stared at each other for a few seconds while you caught your breath and Ellie stared at you like a deer in headlights, frozen in place.

“What…the fuck? Why?” You asked slowly, blinking rapidly to bring yourself back to reality from the state of shock she put you in.

“I sort of thought you were Joel and he’s been getting at me about interacting with the other kids and being like them, so I thought, y’know….it’s Halloween…so prank time?” The second you opened your mouth to respond, almost as if she could sense the incoming disapproval, she interjected again. “Besides, you were meant to be Joel! Why are you even here right now?”

You shifted uncomfortably in place, realizing that Ellie had a valid point. The truth was that you were looking for any excuse to interact with Joel, and if you just so happened to need to borrow some sugar to make caramel apples for the Halloween party the next day, then maybe he would invite you in for a little while. Maybe you would even get to talk with him for longer than the couple of minutes when you were both in the dinner line. “Just needed some sugar for these,” You lift the bag of apples that you picked up from the greenhouse. “I’m making caramel apples for the Halloween party tomorrow night.”

“Oh. Can I help?” She seemed so excited at the prospect that you immediately agreed, expecting her offer to come over the next day, but instead she dragged you inside, physically pulling you into the kitchen and climbing up onto one of the stools, somehow balancing on the seat cross-legged. You supposed you did already have all of the supplies that you needed. And Joel would be home soon.

You began to search the cabinets for the sugar you needed, finding and pulling out the brown paper packet while Ellie placed the rest of the supplies onto the kitchen counter from your grocery bag. She helped you clean and prepare the apples, folding out the beeswax paper onto the counter to hold the finished treats.

“While I do this,” You gestured to the pot you had placed onto the stove, “Why don’t you brainstorm prank ideas that won’t get you shot?”

Ellie groaned. “I don’t know, can’t you just tell me what to do? What kinda thing did you guys used to do back in the olden days?”

You huffed in fake indignation at her age-related dig at you, but answered anyway. “Well, sometimes we would TP somebody’s house– throw toilet paper all over it,” you quickly tacked on the explanation, “ or we would ‘fork’ their front yard, which was basically just stabbing a bunch of plastic forks into the ground. Kinda lame, looking back. Oh, one year we actually made caramel apples and replaced one with an onion! My mom was so mad at me and my brother.” You chuckled fondly at the memory.

You regretted bringing it up, as the room instantly fell into silence. You slowly turned to see Ellie’s eyes lit up with pure, malevolent evil.

“No, no, no–”

“Yes!”

Why did I bring it up? You internally berated yourself for getting so lost in nostalgia that you accidentally fed Ellie the perfect low-level prank that was sure to piss off the man you were trying very hard to get closer to. You watched in powerless defeat, trapped in the act of needing to stir the molten sugar, while Ellie ran to the pantry at a frightening speed to collect what she needed.

“That’s not…he’s going to be so mad!” You practically begged.

“Exactly!” Ellie laughed maniacally as you floundered for any string of words that could convince her not to go ahead with the plan.

“It’s...a waste of food?” Your pitiful defense fell on deaf ears as Ellie began to hack away the skin of the onion with all the fervor of Doctor Frankenstein, holding up the now naked onion just as the sugar in the pot reached the perfect temperature. You could have sworn that a crack of lightning lit up the evening sky behind her as she approached the pot, onion in hand.

—-----------

Joel reached home less than an hour later, entering the room with a confused expression at the sight of a table full of delicious caramel apples, and you curled up on the couch.

“What’s goin’ on in here?” He asked, and your stomach fluttered at the softness of his worn out voice. God, he must be so tired. You flashed Ellie a look of ‘please, no’ that she promptly ignored as she stood up to lead Joel to the kitchen counter.

“Oh, we were just making some treats for the Halloween party tomorrow night. We actually made a couple extras for us to have tonight, if you want to try one!” Ellie asked excitedly, going to pull out the small tray that had been put in the fridge to cool and set quicker.

“Uh.” You swallowed nervously, fiddling with the edge of the tea towel on the counter. “Sorry, I probably should have asked you before using your kitchen. I was just going to borrow some sugar and then Ellie wanted to help, and…yeah,” You trailed off, failing to drag out conversation long enough to delay what was about to happen.

“That’s alright, it was a nice surprise.” He huffed out an awkward chuckle. “You weren’t in the dinin’ hall earlier–,”

He was interrupted by Ellie shoving an ‘apple’ into Joel’s hand. “Eat up!” She grinned, and you internally cringed at what was about to happen.

“Thanks, kiddo.” He took a bite and chewed. He paused. Chewed again. Finally, his face twisted in disgust and he rushed to the sink to spit it out. “Goddamnit, Ellie!”

You hovered awkwardly in the kitchen as he rinsed his mouth out in the sink, cursing every time he spat out water. Everytime he grumbled sharp words in Ellie’s direction, she burst out into a fresh wave of laughter that only served to infuriate Joel more.

Once he seemed to finally recover, no longer gargling water but instead chugging down a beer to further remove the taste from his mouth, he looked at Ellie in a way that made her finally stop laughing. “Ellie, you are doin’ the dishes for the rest of the month.”

“But–”

“No.”

“Fine.” She grumbled, rolling her eyes and stomping off to flop down onto the couch, complaining the entire way as if she didn’t completely deserve it.

“Sorry! I didn’t mean to give her the idea, I just–” You finally decided to beg for forgiveness, but Joel interrupted you.

“It’s alright. Sort of nice to see her laughin’, even if it’s at my expense.” He almost whispered to you, not wanting to give Ellie the satisfaction of knowing that Joel wasn’t entirely miserable as a result of her trick. “They aren’t done yet, right?” He pointed at the apples on the counter, caramel still in the process of setting. “Why don't you stick around for a little while until they’re ready?”

“Oh. Uh. Sure.” You hadn’t been expecting that.

three. 2025.

You and Joel had been having weekly dinners at your home for the past few months. It had started with an offer to cook for him during a particularly busy patrol schedule that meant he would be missing dinner service at the Tipsy Bison, but even when things returned to normal, he continued to come over at least once a week. You were good friends, and despite being sure that it was unrequited, you had developed a massive crush on the man. It was embarrassing to have a crush at your age, and it made you feel juvenile and silly to think about him in those terms, but you didn’t know how else to describe it. Sure, he was an incredibly handsome man, but it wasn’t just blind lust that you felt for him. He was just so…Joel. So strong, protective, and respectful, and that hint of sadness behind his soft brown eyes spoke to you because you knew that it mirrored a sadness that existed in your own.

So. You had a crush. And you had finally decided that you were going to do something about it, which was why it took you a solid thirty minutes of searching for an outfit that was nicer than usual, but still casual enough to seem unrelated to his visit.

At the sound of his knock against the front door, you rushed down the stairs to greet him, almost tripping over an errant shoe on the way down. You welcomed him in and ushered him towards the living room, letting him sit down on the couch before you poured out two glasses of whiskey.

“How’ve you been, darlin’?” He asked you after a small sip.

“Busy, like always. Been missing you, though, I haven’t seen you much this week.” Too forward. You immediately chased your words with a large gulp of your drink, regretting your honesty. You regretted it even more when you allowed yourself to take a quick peek at his expression and realized that he seemed slightly flustered. Fuck, way too forward.

“You missed me?” He asked slowly, and you felt his knee nudge against yours as he moved a tiny bit closer to you on the couch. You could feel your heartbeat in your ears as you struggled to think of what to say next. Thankfully, you were interrupted by a loud knock on the door, and you practically sighed in relief as the tension was broken. You were not drunk enough to make a move. Not yet, at least.

“I’ll get it, don’t worry.” Joel stood from the couch and left you to shakily top up your whiskey and down another heavy sip by the time he returned. “Weird. No one was there.” He muttered in a slightly confused tone.

You immediately tensed up. Ellie had come to you the night before to propose a plan to prank Joel, but you refused to help, wanting to focus your energy on coming up with a way to tell him about your feelings that didn’t make you sound like a love-struck teenager. Ellie didn’t push the issue at the time, just narrowing her eyes at you in what you thought was anger, but now realize was something much more sinister.

“Must have realized they got the wrong house or something. Why don’t we sit for dinner?” You rushed the words out, jumping up from the couch to lead Joel to the small dining table and pushed him down into his seat.

—-------------

The door had been knocked on three more times throughout dinner, somehow always at the most inopportune moments. First, when you had subtly moved your ankle to rest against his. Then, when he grabbed your hand to look at a small scar on the back of it but kept holding on for minutes after he was done looking. Worst of all, though, was when he was about to tell you something important.

His plate had been scraped clean, and he was endlessly complimentary over the roast chicken that you had made, and he leaned forward, straightening up in his chair, to tell you that he wanted to speak to you about something. Something important. Those were the exact words that he used. And then there was a loud knock on the door. Any gratitude that you felt for the interruption earlier was long gone, and you were ready to walk out there yourself to give Ellie a piece of your mind (or more likely, to beg her to stop with some sort of food-based bribe.)

Joel sighed and threw down his napkin onto the table in exasperation. “Alright, that’s enough. Wait here.” You watched him stalk away towards the front door, waiting for the inevitable laughter and shouting when he finally catches them in the act, when instead you heard a very unmasculine yell.You hurried out to find Joel standing as far away from the open front door as physically possible, a few steps up the flight of stairs. He was staring with wide eyes at a box on the front porch.

You walked closer to it and saw what he saw. A green garden snake writhing around in the cardboard box. “Ellie!” You yelled out across the front yard, immediately spotting her and Dina hiding poorly behind the fence at the foot of the house. “I said no prank this year!”

“Sorry!” You heard her yell back, before she and Dina took off down the street, laughing the entire time, leaving you to complain under your breath at the way she inadvertently ruined the evening. Joel had been just about to tell you something important, and it might have just been wishful thinking, but you were starting to think that maybe it had been the same thing that you had wanted to tell him that evening.

You finally looked over to Joel, only to find him still unmoved. His entire body was still so tense and his ears were bright red. He hadn’t moved his eyes away from the box once, as if the tiny creature was somehow going to jump out at him if he stopped staring. “Joel? Are you good?”

Joel cleared his throat and walked down the steps, but didn't come any closer. “‘Course I am, yeah. Just…snakes…,” He shook his head and sucked in a breath through his teeth. “Goddamnit, it’s been Ellie this entire night. I don’t know what to do with that girl.”

“Alright. Why don’t you go and sit down at the table while I deal with this, and then we can have some desert?” You said softly, giving him an encouraging nod to hopefully try and ease some of his embarrassment at his own reaction. If you were honest with yourself, you thought it was adorable. He was so scary and tough at times, and until now, you were sure that he was afraid of nothing.. Fuck it, even if it wasn’t what he wanted to tell you earlier, you didn’t care any longer. You had to tell him.

—-------------

After carefully depositing the little snake in the backyard, you returned into the kitchen, washing your hands and serving up two slices of still warm plum pie. You knew it was his favorite, and he had brought you fresh plums just last week, going out of his way to forage for them while on patrol after you mentioned being in the mood to bake. You placed the plate in front of him where he sat.

“So. You were about to say something before we were interrupted?” You tried to hint once you took your seat.

“Forget it. I don’t want to ruin this evenin’. More than Ellie already did.” He says it with a slight frustrated chuckle, so you knew that he at least wasn’t truly upset at the girl. If anything, he seemed more angry with himself, as if he had done something wrong. “Sorry for not bein’ more of a help earlier.”

You nudged him with your foot under the table to get him to look up at you from where his eyes were trained into the wood grain of the dining table.

“It’s alright, Joel. If anything, I think it’s kind of cute.” You tried not to laugh at the way his eyebrows raised into his hairline at the use of that word.

“Haven’ been called that one before.” His body seemed to loosen a bit at your strange compliment, finally allowing himself to take a bite of the pie in front of him. Appreciation immediately crossed his face, and you knew that if he had Ellie’s table manners he would probably be praising the taste with his mouth still full, spewing crumbs everywhere. He placed his fork back down at the edge of his plate carefully as soon as his mouth was empty.

“I do have somethin’ I want to say to you.”

You knew it.

four. 2026.

“Wake up,” You shove your weight against a sleeping Joel’s side where he lay face down on your bed, his body on his own side of the bed, but his head somehow on your pillow. “Joel, come on, you’re already late!”

That seemed to get him out of his stupor, as he finally slowly sat up, hair a mess of pretty curls that you had been putting off cutting for him. You had been pretending that it was due to your busy schedule, and he luckily bought that excuse.

“What time is it?” He asked groggily, squinting despite the lack of light in the room and reaching for your arm to pull your body against his own. He always needed to feel you against him the moment he woke up.

“It’s past nine already.”

“Fuck,” He groaned, finally swinging his leg over the side of the bed and rushing to get up and get ready. He was meant to be at the gate by nine, and he really hated when Tommy got to tell him off. He may have been slightly less punctual than usual recently, and Tommy just loved to give him a hard time about it. To be fair to Joel, you knew that you were just as much to blame for his sudden lateness, but how were you meant to let him leave bed when he was just so easily persuaded to stay?

You threw him a shirt after he clumsily pulled on a pair of thick socks and jeans, almost falling over as he refused to fully open his eyes, still half asleep. He dragged the shirt over his head as he walked down the stairs and you fought back the urge to laugh, knowing what was waiting for him.

The moment he turned the corner to the kitchen, a bright flash blinded him momentarily. Ellie was standing there, polaroid camera in hand as she took the picture of Joel, who was currently wearing your black tee-shirt with the word ‘angel’ written across the chest in hot pink letters, practically a baby-tee on his broad frame. It took him a couple of blinks to notice that he was not wearing his usual undershirt and he immediately reached to grab the camera from Ellie’s hand, who jumped back, cackling wildly as she grabbed the ejected polaroid and shook it.

“Goddamnit!” You passed him his regular black t-shirt over the railing of the stairs, mouthing a not-quite-believable apology at the frustrated man, who quickly ripped off the offending article of clothing and redressed himself, muttering under his breath in anger the entire time. “You two will be the death of me. Bring that godforsaken photo over here.” He reached for the photo.

“You are so dead to the world when you wake up, this is amazing!” Ellie could barely get words out as she stared at the now developed image in her hands in awe.

“Ellie–.” Joel paused mid-rant and took in a deep breath. Exhaled. Breathed in again. “You know what, why don’t you just get out, Ellie, go have some breakfast and burn that photo,”

“Fine, fine. To the breakfast part, not the photo thing. This–,” She holds up the photo. “Is going in the vault!”

Joel finally faced you when she left, and shook his head in over exaggerated disappointment. “I can’t believe you. Her, I understand. But you?”

“Come on, it’s tradition! We have to prank you somehow! And Ellie did say I owed her for the trauma of walking in on us kissing. I had no choice but to help her,”

“You’re an evil woman,” He grabbed you to pull you in for a quick kiss, his special way of saying that you were forgiven, before reaching for his jacket. He stopped and looked at you when he heard you suck in an apologetic breath.

“Oh, also…it’s only eight a.m.”

He sighed, defeated.

“Evil, evil, woman.”

five. 2027.

The house was quiet. It was quiet a lot these days. It had been almost a year since Ellie moved out after learning the truth. You knew how hard it had been on Joel, hell, it was fucking hard on you, so when you reached over to his side of the bed to find it empty, you weren’t surprised. He had been taking early shifts more regularly recently. Late shifts too. He always did when he was struggling, needing the distraction that came from being too exhausted to think.

It was still extremely early, and technically it was your day off, but you just couldn’t sleep when Joel was having these sorts of days. Propping yourself up in bed, you decided that maybe you should distract yourself too. You formed a plan, deciding to head down to the market to pick up some flour and bake him a pie using some of the fresh plums you had gathered last time you had been out of the walls. It was his favorite, after all.

After pulling on a warm sweater and your thick rubber rain boots, you made your way down to the small market, getting there right as it opened for business. You paused as you noticed Dina waiting by the front door, too, and you found yourself giving her a small, awkward nod of acknowledgement. You love Dina, and you knew that she loved you too, but the situation with Joel and Ellie made things difficult.

“Are you baking something, too?” You asked when you find yourselves both approaching the same section of the market.

“Yeah. Ellie–,” Dina stopped and looked up at you almost nervously, before tearing her eyes away to refocus on picking out the right type of flour. “We just wanted to learn how to make some bread.”

You sighed, knowing that you had to ask. You missed her too much not to. “How is she?”

“She’s…having a hard time. She misses you, you know. Both of you, but she can actually bring herself to mention you every now and then. Maybe…maybe you can come over for a bit? You bake, right? Maybe you can teach us how to make bread and, I don’t know, catch up with her or something?” You winced at how hopeful her voice sounded, and how much it hurt to know that Ellie missed you just as much as you missed her. You sort of wish that she really did hate you. Maybe it would make it easier if you knew that at the very least, there was only one of you being hurt by the current arrangement.

“Sure, kiddo.”

—------------

Despite your fears, the afternoon had been going well so far. Ellie didn’t ask you to leave the second she saw you, and there were moments when it actually felt like old times. You knew that she was officially together with Dina, but this was the first that you had visited their home that they shared with two other couples in a cozy house across town from where you and Joel lived. Where Ellie used to live.

Neither of you spoke about what had happened, especially not about the argument with Joel the previous night. You knew that that was why Joel had left so early this morning, not even letting you know where he was going like he always did. Joel would always leave you a note, or gently wake you to let you know when he was leaving. There was no way that this was intentional, so you knew that the argument had to have been a bad one, leaving him absentminded and out of it, even hours later. You had tried not to pry when he got home, seeing the look in his eyes that told you that he needed space to breathe. It wasn’t until Dina left briefly to grab a sweatshirt from their bedroom, leaving the both of you alone for the first time that evening, that the topic finally came up.

“Is he okay?” She asked quietly, tentatively, and you froze for a moment before speaking. You didn’t dare look at her, not wanting to spook her.

“He’s….managing. In his own way.” You saw her nod out of the corner of your eye, and you finally gave in and looked at her. You were momentarily taken aback by just how completely different she seemed to the girl that you knew, despite it barely being a year.

“I don’t want him to be upset. It–,” She hesitated and met your eyes as if trying to convince you of something. “It didn’t make me feel good to embarrass him like that.”

“I know, Ellie.” You whispered comfortingly, wanting more than anything to give her a hug. She nodded again, her brief moment of vulnerability fading as she heard Dina start to descend the stairs.

“I’m gonna speak to him tonight.” She says quickly, definitively, before Dina reenters, bringing back some semblance of an easy atmosphere.

—------------

You headed back in the late afternoon, rushing in the hopes that you would still be able to bake that pie before Joel returned. You didn’t even notice him sitting on the couch in the dim living room when you first entered, immediately heading towards the kitchen. You jumped when you heard his voice echo out, slightly slurred. “Darlin’?”

You approached him slowly and cautiously, and were immediately hit by the thick scent of whiskey. “I’m here, Joel.” You knelt beside him on the couch, pulling him into your chest and wrapping your arms around his shoulders. His entire body felt tense and tight in your arms, and you could feel his chest move rapidly with shallow breaths. You recognised the way he shook ever so slightly in your arms, and held him even tighter.

“I’m sorry. I decided to head back early. Realized I didn’t tell you where I was goin’, and I wasn’t feelin’ up to a trip to the dam. I’ve been back for hours. I thought…I thought you left.”

You swallowed dryly, trying to blink away the tears that threatened to fall from your eyes at the quiet words he spoke while gripping onto your arm. “I’m right here, Joel, I’m not going anywhere, I swear.” You felt him nod under you, and continued to hold him until you sensed him start to breathe deeper and you knew that the fear had passed. You no longer had to hold him together. You shift backwards slightly to press a kiss against his cheek, one that he reciprocated with a gentle kiss against your jaw.

A few more quiet moments passed as you sat in each other's company, allowing a calm silence to hang between you while you gently swirled soft patterns into the back of his hand that rested on your knee with a single finger.

Finally, he got up, and headed towards the bookshelf in the corner. “Let me put some music on, and then we can cook together, alright darlin’?” He asked as he pulled out one of his records from the collection he had carefully curated since settling in Jackson. He dropped the needle onto the record and the unmistakable sounds of the old-school country square dance record filled the air.

“Not really the vibe I was expecting.” You raised an eyebrow, amused at his interesting choice.

“No, I…” He rifled through the box of records and checked the matching sleeve to see that that too had been swapped. “Did you change this around?” He asked, clearly confused by the meticulous manner in which each record had been changed to a different sleeve.

“Oh! Ellie—uh.” You paused for a second, not knowing if it was alright to bring up her name at this moment, but at his unchanging expression you decided to continue. “Ellie had decided last year that she would go for more of a long-term psychological prank. She was going to make you think you were going crazy by messing with all of your stuff. She made me promise not to tell. And to help her, but I probably wasn’t going to. Maybe.”

Your explanation trailed off at the end, suddenly unsure again if you should have brought the whole thing up. You weren’t expecting the sudden laughter that sprung from Joel’s lips, louder than you had ever heard from him before. After watching for a second to confirm that it really was laughter and not just Ellie succeeding in her attempts at causing insanity you began to laugh too, the ridiculousness of the situation settling in. It felt as if a full minute passed before the delirium seemed to fade enough for Joel to speak again.

“Even when she’s not here, she still manages to annoy me.” He mutters fondly, shoving the records back into the box, uncharacteristically unbothered about fixing the order of the collection.

—------------

That evening while you lay together in bed, you felt him move around more than usual, unable to get comfortable. He had been in a better mood by the end of the evening, but he did always struggle with sleep after the more difficult days.

“Darlin’, I think I'm gonna sit out on the porch for a bit, maybe play some guitar.” He pressed a kiss to your temple, gently sliding your arm off from around his waist as he got up from bed and reached for his pants. You hummed in agreement, rolling over to his much warmer side of the bed the second he vacated it.

He had barely reached the bedroom door when quiet, hesitant knocks on the front door broke the silence.

plus one.

The ride out to the farm was a fairly quick one. Barely an hour on horseback, and you were already tying the reins to the post out by the front door, and walking up the dusty path to the farmhouse. The farm that was gifted to Dina and Ellie, in exchange for them caring for the sheep, goats, and chickens that occupied it, was a quaint one. Just a few acres of fields, a small red barn, a coop, and the farmhouse itself, faded but still homey. It became available after the previous owners, a farmer couple who were residents of Jackson before the world had even ended, decided to move into the safety of the town’s walls in their old age.

Initially, the land had been offered to Joel, but after considering your new volunteer schedule at the schoolhouse and the bakery, and that Maria had just announced her second pregnancy, he decided to turn it down. A quiet farm had been his dream, once. A place to get away from the pressures of existence. He wasn’t sure when it changed, but he knew now that the chaos of family was better. Being able to wake up next to you, just a street away from his brother, who had real first-hand memories of Sarah, and his two baby nephews was better. As much as he wished that Dina and Ellie would have chosen to stay in town, they were close enough that Joel was able to visit as he often as he pleased, something that you were thrilled to see happen more and more often as his fragile relationship with Ellie had mended. Besides, Ellie and Dina had needed the extra space once JJ was born, no longer fitting in the home that they shared with two other couples.

You barely made it up the porch steps before the door swung open, revealing a tired looking Ellie, and a tiny but very energetic JJ squirming around in her arms with reckless abandon. “Quick, grab him before I go insane,” She held JJ out towards either one of you, and Joel gladly scooped up the toddler with an affectionate coo and a quick squeeze of the baby’s chubby cheek.

—--------------------

After a loud and chaotic dinner you helped Ellie clear the table and left Joel to continue to play with JJ, laughing as he groaned all the way down in his attempt to sit cross legged on the floor. Dina rested on the couch, eyes immediately shutting from the aftermath of a large meal after hours of chasing the little tyke around earlier that day. She had explained to you the wonders and horror of having a toddler, especially now that JJ had begun to crawl at a frightening speed. You could see the impact of that horror in the way that Dina passed out within seconds of shutting her eyes.

“I feel kinda bad, I was on cooking duty so she offered to look after little JJ on her own today. I think he gets that hyperactivity from Jesse.” Ellie laughed as she began to soap up some dishes.

“He at least partly gets that from you, you menace,” You teased, elbowing her out of the way to take over on dish duty. It was the least you could do, after the surprisingly edible meal she had prepared.

“I don’t know if that’s how genetics work, but I’m glad you remember my ability to cause chaos.” She acquiesced, grabbing a dish towel to help dry while you wash. “I was actually thinking, it might be time for the chaos to return.” You immediately begin to groan, which she interrupted quickly. “Hear me out! What if we get two snakes?”

Her scheming was put on hold when a groggy Dina poked her head into the room. “Hey, I asked Joel to go out to the barn to grab the last of the wool that you guys were meant to bring back to town, but he took JJ and it’s taking a while. Can you guys go help him out?”

You wanted to tease Ellie for how quickly she nodded in agreement and threw the dishtowel back onto the counter, fighting the urge to point out just how often she would make fun of Joel for his gentlemanly behavior, but the moment was too sweet to ruin. Instead, you just followed her out into the dark yard and walked up towards the lit up barn silently, letting the crisp fall air remind you fondly of both the very first day that you met the girl, and the day that she had finally welcomed Joel back into her heart. Ellie had been so much happier than you had thought even possible over the past year. It wasn’t easy at the start, and she and Joel had had several more dramatic arguments that worried you, but you knew that they were trying. It wasn’t until JJ was born that Ellie finally seemed to understand something. You could see it in her eyes everytime JJ wrapped a pudgy little hand around her finger. Every time she argues with Joel about silly parenting decisions before finally giving in, trusting that he knew best when it came to raising a baby properly. You even see it in the way that Ellie lit a candle for Sarah and Jesse every time you and Joel visit, giving Dina and JJ a look that reminded you so much of the way Joel looked at all of you.

As you entered the lit up barn, you were struck by the distinct lack of Joel.

“Joel?” You called out, walking further into the room while Ellie paced over to where she knew that the wool was sitting for collection, a confused expression on her face.

Suddenly, the barn door slammed behind you and the dangling light bulbs hanging from the rafters shut off, plunging the pair of you into darkness.

“What the fuck!” Ellie exclaimed in shock, immediately moving towards where you stood protectively. The two of you listened and heard rustling from heavy footsteps that were unmistakably Joel’s, and if you could see her right now, you knew that Ellie would be rolling her eyes.

The lights came back on just as suddenly, and you were faced with an old shoebox sitting on a wooden stool opposite you. The box shook in a slightly concerning way. Ellie reached over and flicked the cardboard lid off cautiously. You saw her eyebrows furrow in confusion, and decided to lean in for a closer look.

“Huh. Mice?”

“What do’ya mean, ‘Huh’” Joel’s voice boomed out from the hayloft, somehow shocked that his plan didn’t work. “You hate mice!” You watched him somehow angrily descend the wooden ladder to face the both of your unimpressed faces.

“Maybe when I was a kid but I kinda had to get over that with the whole farm thing, Joel.” Ellie explained, still more confused by Joel’s shitty prank attempt than anything else.

Joel wordlessly turned to you .

“Sorry, Joel. I’m scared of rats, not mice. There’s kind of a big difference.” You reached over to pat him on the arm with a pitying look.

“Unbelievable!”

“Told you” Dina’s voice came from the barn door, where she leaned with JJ resting on her hip, the toddler now seemingly seconds away from sleep. “Now can we be done with this whole plan so I can put JJ down for bed?”

“...Fine.” Joel muttered, tipping the mice out back onto the floor to scamper away into the darkness. He grabbed the wool he was sent for, clearly disappointed in his failed plans. “Just wanted to get you guys back for once. Missed the whole stupid holiday thing.”

“Well, good news, old man. We were just planning on how to continue to make your life a misery once a year.”

“What? No, that’s not what I meant.” Joel insisted while following the pair of you out of the barn and back up towards the house.

You linked arms with Ellie as you walked. “Too late. This is happening forever now.” You jokingly concurred with Ellie, speaking in as menacing of a voice as you could muster.

You knew that though he would never admit it, he loved this holiday tradition even more than Ellie did.

a/n pt. 2: okay so i hate this LMFAO, no one @ me about it being bad, just accept that i tried <3

HAPPY HALLOWEEN

#joel miller x f!reader #joel miller x reader #joel miller fic #joel x reader #tlou fic #the last of us fic #joel miller fanfiction #joel miller fluff #joel miller x female reader #fluff

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joels6string · 1 year

Text

More Than My Father's Son

Joel Miller x f!OC

Chapter 7 - Hazy Whiskey Nights

Summary: What you thought would be a night to commiserate the 21st Outbreak Day anniversary at Tommy and Maria's has a much more heartbreaking origin.

Rating: E

Word Count: 6k

Content: NSFW, high levels of violence normal to the TLOU world, angst, fluff, miscommunication trope (it’s Joel Miller…), slow burn, Joel’s traumatic childhood, getting together, smut, canon divergence after SLC, fix it fic

How did you help someone manage their grief when it was something you’d never once allowed yourself to feel?

Chapter 6 || Series Masterlist

“Tommy! Cover me!”

“Tommy…”

As gunshots began to echo, you jolted up with a shriek, your eyes immediately jerking over in search of the line of defense between you and the door but finding no one. You’d been trying to remember the events of that day for two weeks now, but still, the blanks stayed blackened and shrouded, but Joel’s face covered in blood at your front door was always the last place you landed. The moonlight breaking in through the slits in your curtains illuminated the old clock hanging on the wall, the familiar sight of 4 AM greeting you as you sighed into the empty, lonely space. That was all the sleep you'd be getting tonight, sweat dripping down your temple and soaking the thin tank top you’d worn to bed despite the autumn chill that had settled over Jackson.

The gardens welcomed you at five after a hasty breakfast, an early start meant more could be done before your afternoon arrangements. While your proficiency with a bow was unmatched, it turned out your thumb might be as green as it was steady. Nothing had died under your care yet and your fingers itched to sink into the dirt more than they did to pull at a bowstring, the gentle needs of the crops requiring a softer touch that forced a more conscious effort as your hands adjusted to their new task.

Benevolence was something you thought your digits would have long forgotten. They’d nimbly and efficiently killed with guns, knives, bows, and shards of glass, slitting the throats of enemies and prey alike, their very existence a testament to your survival. But here in the plush soils and humid sanctuaries, it was all fond brushes and attentive inspections, the dewy green leaves not too distant a sensation beneath your fingertips from thin, sweat-soaked skin thudding with a rapid pulse.

“You’re up early,” a voice sounded from behind you, prompting you to quickly turn and whirl to find its source.

“Maria…” you sighed, not missing the fact your hand was now at the empty back waistband of your jeans, “So are you.”

“Well, I was curious who was getting here early and doing half the work before the rest of the team even shows up. I should have known.”

“Sorry…Killing time.”

“Still not sleeping?”

“Better than I was.”

There was no way she could fight that, and surrender settled on her face in a knowing smirk.

“Better than nothing,” she laughed, your growing nerves receding at her ease, “leave something for the rest of them to do.”

“Sure,” you agreed, “Ellie and I are going to the inn this afternoon anyway.”

“You know, I’d offer to send you home if I thought there was any chance you’d actually go.”

“I’m stuck in my ways, what can I say?”

“Hopefully not too stuck.”

When your brow furrowed she took her leave, the wind rattling against the plastic encasing you nothing compared to the fretful chaos ensuing in your mind. The invitation to the Millers’ home for dinner had already been a source of turmoil since you’d gotten the invitation, Ellie was already thrilled at the thought of you joining her and Joel that there was no feasible exit or valid excuse. However, despite her excitement over the event in the days leading up, she was oddly quiet today when she arrived and took her usual place beside you.

At first, you allowed her the space she was silently requesting, but when the sun hit its highest peak and began to dip into the west and you were cleaning your hands in the icy tap, your concern got the best of you.

“What’s up today?” you asked nonchalantly, “You’re not usually quiet.”

“Oh…” she mused, half dazed and distant, “Just tired.”

“That makes two of us. You ready?”

The heavy sigh that followed wasn’t one of disdain, you knew that even if she tried to mask it as such. Ellie had been over to help the surviving women and still packed into the inn with you, her discomfort in the setting palpable in each visit. Joel, Tommy, and other townspeople had been out diligently searching and coming up empty day after day, every evening the hope fading from their eyes as Joel and Tommy reported back to update them alone.

“You don’t have to come,” you reminded her, “There’s no shame in it.”

“I do have to come!” she argued, her voice growing louder and more agitated, “That’s…what the fucking world is like. I can’t be hidden forever.”

Hidden. You knew Ellie was frustrated Joel had said no patrols until she was older, a ruling you found entirely fair, but hidden wasn’t entirely the word you’d have used. Not much had been disclosed about Joel and Ellie’s journey prior to them finding you, all you knew was that they’d traveled all the way from Boston, lost a few people along the way, and were headed to find Joel’s brother in Jackson. When they’d picked you up in Utah you’d teased Joel once you’d gotten comfortable about just how off the track he’d been if that had been his destination, but as time wore on you’d become almost certain there was more to their story and it just wasn’t for you to know, and you respected that.

“Don’t forget, Star Wars tomorrow,” she reminded you, her voice leveled and a sad smile settled onto her freckled face, “You promised.”

“I’ll be there,” you promised, slinging your arm around her shoulders as you took off down the road.

As usual, the survivors were huddled in the lobby as they awaited the return of that day’s search team. Thus far, the only victory had been reuniting Simon’s wife with him and James, a celebration you’d missed after the ordeal at the slaver camp. Indy had assured you of his gratitude and tears of joy and relief from that day, and he’d made a point to stop you at the market earlier this week to let you know himself. All it had done was remind you of all that had transpired there and just how little you remembered.

Lunch was doled out and reassuring words were shared, Ellie following you like a shadow keen to stay in the dark but forcing itself to stretch along the walls in the sunlight pouring in from the windows. She was silent, watching attentively as you put on the mask required of you, something you’d gotten better at since arriving in Jackson. It was a necessary skill. Maria was mingling, Tommy, Joel, and Indy were all part of today’s crew and you’d be lying if you said you hadn’t opted to come here today based only on that.

It hadn’t even been a week since the fall dance and yet it felt like a lifetime. Joel had been scarce, more so than usual this week, only popping around town when necessary, and his absence even in just the passing moments weighed heavily on your spirits. But here he couldn’t escape you, even for a quick wave, and regardless tonight you’d be at Tommy and Maria’s, although you couldn’t help but wonder why this day was chosen.

Outbreak day. It had been twenty-one years now since the world had ended and been replaced by this boundless hellscape. This year, the date didn’t bring on as many despairing emotions as years past, but still, it was hard to escape the reminder of all that was lost.

“Hey,” the wrong Texas drawl called from behind you, a sea of hopeful eyes lifting to the source and immediately falling, “We caught a trail but it’s no good goin’ after ‘em in the dark. We’re setting out first thing tomorrow.”

An optimistic murmur erupted in the crowd as your spirits fell, your own gaze searching for a missing mop of gray hair. So focused on seeking what wasn’t there, you missed a familiar face merely inches from your own.

“Earth to Millie,” Indy called, waving her hands theatrically in front of you, “You and Ellie have been reading too many fucking space books.”

“Where’s Joel?” your lack of pleasantries causing her to scoff knowingly.

“He went straight home.”

So he wasn’t hurt or lost or dead, but still avoiding you as if his life depended on it. Had you been too forceful in dragging him out onto the dance floor? He’d invited you over afterward, but was that just for Ellie’s sake? Maybe he really did want to dance with Francine, but the thought of his arm around the waist of someone else had sent a flush to your cheeks so hot you swore you’d been sweating as your cheeks blazed red. You supposed it shouldn’t have though. Who was he to you? The man that pulled you from the empty building you’d intended to waste away in? No, he was more than that.

“Still comin’ by tonight?” Tommy asked, pulling you from your thoughts, “I know Joel’ll appreciate it.”

Well, hearing that wasn’t going to help any of the confused feelings you’d been grappling with.

“Yeah,” you assured, “Six, right?”

“Yes ma’am.”

“Do I need to bring anything?”

“No, I think Maria’s got it covered. She likes to entertain.”

“I can’t tell if that’s sarcasm or not.”

“Guess you’ll find out.”

Tommy walked off with a laugh and a gentle squeeze of your shoulder, his hair now just long enough to tie back into a little ponytail you knew Joel would be teasing him about if he wasn’t already. You bid Ellie a “see you soon” as you left, needing a shower to make yourself presentable for the first dinner party you’d been to since your teenage years, your options for clothes just as scarce as the jar of green buds Eugene had left with you last week after your episode. Oddly enough, it had been helping, and now you’d have to admit that to Eugene after brushing off his guarantee that it could take your troubles away, just for a little while.

Rolling the weed into the little squares of paper he’d provided returned like muscle memory from college, the familiar skunky smell hitting your tongue and nose simultaneously as you inhaled on your back porch, blowing the smoke out slowly and watching it dissipate into the graying dusk sky. You were ready to go, but something kept you rooted in place as your mind calmed and lightened, the realization that something, somewhere had changed churning like the sea. Pinpointing it was impossible, maybe it had always been there hiding in a corner waiting for the safest moment to come out, or perhaps it had been so slow you’d barely noticed it, time sending the sands to fill your empty, weary vial when your life had been flipped upside down entirely.

Now you were late, your head in your hands as your feet tapped rapidly on the wooden step they were glued to. The air had grown too cold for your simple flannel button-down to keep you warm, yet you still couldn’t decipher if the goosebumps erupting on your skin were from the chill or anticipation. This had all gone too far. It had reached a point you thought was lost.

It was almost seven when you were knocking on the Millers’ door, Tommy opening it up with a warm, welcoming smile, “Hey, glad you make it. C’mon in.”

Grateful for lack of criticism over your tardiness, you followed Tommy into the house, immediately spotting Joel sitting alone on the couch in silence, a tumbler of whiskey perched in his hand as he stared at the flames licking against the brick of the hearth. The despondent aura surrounding him was palpable, your brow immediately furrowing as your steps slowed, the desire to sit down beside him almost undeniable.

“It’s his birthday,” Ellie murmured as you entered the kitchen, her and Maria were putting the final touches on dinner at the counter.

His birthday. Your stomach went hurtling to the floor as your heart hammered against your ribs. His fucking birthday. You knew what happened. He’d told you about his daughter in a rare moment of vulnerability before you’d made it to those wooden gates. His face had been hazy as he spoke over the flames crackling through the summer air, the pain threaded in his voice proving that time could not heal all wounds.

“Fuck,” you hissed under your breath, turning to hide the tears pressing at your eyes from onlookers.

This felt almost invasive. That man was still mourning, the one day a year he could be celebrating himself marred by tragedy in every conceivable way. It explained his reclusiveness over the past week, and you felt disgusted that you’d somehow made it about yourself.

“Just…we just want to let him know that we’re here,” Tommy defended, clearly able to read the horrified look on your face, “We’re not forcin’ him into anything, we just…didn’t want him to be alone. Not this year.”

“Dinner’s ready,” Maria chimed in, bringing each of her prepared dishes to the table one room over. So Tommy hadn’t been being sarcastic.

“I’ll go get him,” you offered, needing a second alone with him, even if it was just a few short steps into another room. What you wanted that time for you weren’t sure, but your heart was screaming after decades of being mute and not one of your well-maintained walls could keep it quiet.

The room that had previously been occupied by the brooding figure of Joel was now empty, the decanter of whiskey that had been set in front of him also gone. You could see the shadow of his slumped shoulders through the front window, and you found him on the lone chair on the porch, decanter in one hand, glass in another, chin to his chest as he stared at the wooden slats.

“I don’t wanna talk about it,” he snapped, not even raising his gaze to see who had come out, maybe he knew it was you already.

“I know,” you assured him softly, hopping up to perch on the banister in front of him, the stars twinkling above you brighter than they should be on a night like tonight where it all seemed bleak and hopeless.

As you stared up into the heavens, a nudge on your shin pulled you from mapping your own constellations, the decanter of whiskey still warm from his grip as you pulled it from his hands and took a swig before passing it back. Whatever discomfort you’d been feeling quickly dissipated in the comfortable blanket of silence that wrapped you both up effortlessly, the only sounds being the swish of whiskey against glass and the rhythmic tapping of your heels against the thin wooden rails behind them.

“I never realized how much I didn’t stop to look at the stars,” you began to ramble, your head was still in the clouds, the effects of Eugene’s medicine the only thing keeping your mood afloat in Joel’s somber storm, “Like, there’s no more light pollution, you know? Look at them up there. There’s so many. Especially after living in New York, just black skies, the stars all drowned out by the skyscrapers and street lights. It’s been like this for 20 years now…”

”I see you’ve gone to the town’s doctor of choice,” he chuckled from his seat, his voice a little higher, less weighed down, and you couldn’t stop the giggles you were trying to hold back from snorting out of your nose, “It suits you. Maybe I should give it a try.”

“You’ve never had it?”

“Course I have. When I was younger you couldn’t keep me away from the stuff. But I’m old now, who knows what it’ll do.”

“Probably put you to sleep.”

“That work for you?”

“Like a charm.”

“It keep those nightmares of yours away?”

If only. The way your eyes averted was enough of an answer for him, the whiskey he offered again burning down your throat. There was nothing that could take those away, no matter how many years you stacked in front of certain choices, they never stopped. A constant reminder of poor choices made in desperation, moments that taken your open heart and sealed it behind iron bars and chains. The same courtesy you’d extended to him he granted you, no nagging questions or attempts to fix what had irreparably shattered, it was just a comfortable quiet where just knowing grief was shared was enough.

“If you want to come by tonight,” you offered after a few minutes of silence, “just bring that guitar of yours.”

“Appreciate the offer,” he slurred, the alcohol he’d been drowning in finally taking hold, “I’ll be alright.”

With those words he stood, the decanter in his left hand as his right reached out towards you, your palm sliding against his calloused skin before you leapt down, the way his fingertips squeezed against yours before he released you sending a ripple down your spine.

Maria, Ellie, and Tommy were seated at the table, plates empty in front of them with the dishes Maria had prepared set across the surface, their eyes all shooting up as the front door closed behind Joel. They began an animated conversation that was meant to sound as if they’d been chatting idly for the past thirty minutes but the performance fell short to your ears, and from the way Joel’s nostrils flared as he took the seat across from you and beside his brother, it hadn’t fooled him either.

As Tommy introduced each dish, you noted the pause as he awaited his brother’s reaction after each one was named. He got none.

“Are these your favorites?” you asked Joel sweetly as his glass filled again before his plate.

“A long time ago,” he grumbled, his presence and sobriety fading quickly.

“Alright, that’s enough,” Tommy snapped, ripping the bottle from his hands as he went to drain the last of it, “Last thing you need.”

“Give me that.”

“No! Now eat somethin’ before you make yourself sick.”

A fist slamming on the table had everyone but Tommy flinching, Ellie’s face falling as Joel stalked off, the house rattling as he slammed the door behind him.

“You should eat,” you reassured her, “We’ll take him a plate back.”

“Well, that went better than expected,” Tommy announced after a heavy sigh, “Everyone eat up. No reason to let it go to waste.”

Courtesy won out over the unsettled lurching in your stomach, the small servings of everything you’d put on your plate being finished in appreciation of the invitation. Ellie seemingly had the same intention, the both of you feeling almost out of place without Joel’s ever-reassuring presence despite the relationship you’d formed with the rest of his family. Both you and Ellie helped with clean-up, making the task quick and the evening’s failed celebration come to a relieving end.

When you hugged Ellie good night outside the door of her converted garage, you couldn’t help but drift your gaze to those two plastic chairs on the porch. They were barely visible, the porch light that was usually lit notably black, the usual occupant of the chair on your left absent. The notes that usually plucked through the air floated around you like ghosts, every window in the large 2-story home dark. All you could hope was that he was enjoying halcyon whiskey dreams.

The shower called to you as soon as you’d passed the threshold of your house, your book nook as Ellie affectionately had named it requesting your attention after you washed the day away. Your hair soaked through the thin black tank top you threw on, the kettle whistling as you prepped a satchel of chamomile tea you’d packed up just this morning from the strings of drying herbs hanging from the rafters on the gardens.

You swore you heard the softest raps on your door, noting the late hour and shaking it off, but when they sounded again just slightly louder as you set your mug onto the small book-covered end table, you spotted the figure lingering on your door through the front window. Concern washed away whatever qualms you had about your attire, the flushed face of Joel greeted you like a melancholic portrait.

“You brought the guitar,” you noted contentedly, standing aside and allowing him space to enter, “What’s in the bag?”

“Supplies,” he grunted, his feet shuffling more than stepping.

“We going somewhere I don’t know about?”

“No. It’s…it don’t matter. It’s nothin’.”

“Lemme see.”

His reflexes were too waterlogged to stop you from snatching the satchel from his arms, your eyes finding flour, sugar, cinnamon sticks, and a large cube of butter.

“You want to bake?” you asked, nose wrinkling in delighted confusion.

“Yeah...” he confessed, his hand nervously shooting back to scratch at the back of his head.

“Okay.”

If he wanted to bake, then you’d bake. You’d be horrible at it because it wasn’t something you ever got right even before you went twenty years without an oven, but as long as you didn’t burn your house down you’d consider it a win. Questions ran rampant through your mind as you watched him intently, even in his inebriated state each measurement was practically scientific. Flour, sugar, cinnamon, and rising agents you weren’t even sure would work all meticulously went into separate bowls, his quiet requests for help finding certain utensils as heart wrenching as they were endearing.

“When Sarah was real young,” he began, the sound of his daughter’s name took you aback, all your focus going to a story you knew he would be struggling to tell. His hands were gripping the counter, knuckles white, and while his face was turned toward the counter you could see the lines around his eyes were more pronounced, “I’d make these for…for breakfast on hers and mine. Up at four to get it done in time…I’d forgotten the last few years…”

How did you help someone manage their grief when it was something you’d never once allowed yourself to feel? You knew silence wasn’t the answer, despite being frozen in it, and with cautious steps and a shaking hand, you slid your palm across his upper back, gripping his upper arm as you rest your chin atop his shoulder. You expected him to shove you off, but instead he exhaled deeply as if he’d been holding his breath. The sheer size difference had this feeling inadequate, your arm barely taking up space across his broad shoulders, but he seemed content enough. It was the thought that counted, right?

“Okay,” he mumbled, standing upright once again to finish his task, and you pulled your embrace away quickly, still afraid you’d overstepped a boundary that you were never meant to cross.

“Shit,” he sighed as you heard the brittle cracking of an egg smashing on the floor, his head whipping around in search of a towel and yanking it free off the oven handle.

As he dropped to his knees, you followed, your noses inches apart as you laid your fingers over his, pulling the rag free, “I got it.”

Proximity to him wasn’t something you weren’t accustomed to, you’d spent weeks clinging to his back through forests and over rivers, but it was never face to face. You noticed his sunspots and scars, all the little fine lines nicked all across his face from years of knife fights and jumping through shattered glass, thorns, and dilapidated buildings. The prominent indentation spread across his crooked nose was deep, the dark color a stark contrast to the light hazel hue of his eyes that was locked with the green of your own. His beard had grayed more since your arrival months ago, his cheeks had filled in, and the sadness in his eyes gave a him a vulnerability that made him look far younger than his difficult 53 years

You cleared your throat as you broke the staring contest you’d been unaware you’d entered, turning to work on mopping up the egg yolk splattered across your floor. The oven blared as it hit the required temperature as you rose, tossing the rag into the trash behind you before the newest ailment that had been plaguing you kicked into gear. A slow ooze from your nose dropped onto the floor, Joel snapped his attention up to you. The back of your hand was pressed against your face, blood already smearing along your skin as he shot up, frantically digging through your kitchen drawers in search of a clean towel.

“I’m fine,” you groaned, “it’s the weather…”

The taste of copper sat wet on your lips, your cheeks burning in embarrassment as you ran to the sink, rinsing your hands as blood continued to roll down your face. Thick fingers tipped your chin back as you turned straight into a solid chest before pressing a towel beneath your leaking nostrils as his other hand cradled the back of your head, the ceiling coming into view as you went limp in his hold. It was silent, the butterflies in your stomach evolving into vulturous hawks as his fingers scratched soothing against your scalp, your unruly waves catching and tugging enough to keep you from letting yourself drift off to a forbidden sanctuary.

After what felt like an hour but the clock proved as five minutes, he pulled the pressure away, inspecting for new blood and finding now, wetting the clean edges of the blood-soaked rag in his hands and wiping your face clean. You wanted to stop him, you could handle this, but you didn’t. The water was freezing against your heated skin, his swipes tender and his eyes focused on cleaning the last evidence of your ailment clean. Your nails dug into the skin of your palm as you balled your fists while you mentally thanked yourself for not drinking as much as you’d wanted to, and you considered that the amount he’d allowed himself to have was probably fueling his own motions.

“I need to change,” you blurted out bluntly, your body searing hot as you pushed passed him and ran up the stairs, slamming your bedroom door behind you.

Squashing the hopes that he’d follow was harder than you’d hoped, your fingers rolling the last of your stash into a thin little cone and sticking it into the pocket of the flannel you donned over the thin tank top you pulled from the drawer. It had to be the exhaustion or the comedown from your first high, or maybe it was the heavy emotional fog that had surrounded him throughout the night, obscuring your view of reality as you’d inspected his frown lines and read the sadness in his eyes as if it was a code written only for you to decipher. He’d ended up here. Yes, you’d offered, but he’d refused. And yet hours after his abrupt departure from Tommy and Maria’s, he’d been on your doorstep, guitar in hand, looking every bit sullen and in need of a place to softly land. And that was here.

“You alright?” his voice traveled up the stairs, a hint of nervousness drifting along with it. You’d been too long.

The smell of cinnamon was strong as you hit the first floor, Joel hunched over the stove as he prepped another tray of dough to go into the oven. The sight had your breath hitching, his fingers looking too large for such a delicate task yet he moved as if he’d mastered it years ago, his brow furrowed in concentration as he plopped each ball onto the metal, his thumb dipping between his lips with a soft smack after he’d placed the last one.

“Hey,” he greeted when he spotted you leaning against the doorframe, “C’mere.”

Through your brazen staring, you’d failed to notice he’d started a pot of boiling water, the steam rising from the bubbling liquid as he flicked the burner off, the plaid shirt that had just been stretched across his broad shoulders surrounding your head as he stood behind you in a gray flannel that hugged every one of his dips and curves, the three buttons beginning at the collar undone to reveal a peak of the dark hair that covered his chest.

“Head down,” he instructed, the air warm and wet as he tented his shirt around your head, “Breathe that in a bit, it’ll help your nose.”

As you took over the task of holding his flannel that smelled like sawdust and cinnamon, you heard him working around the kitchen. The faucet going off, the clattering of spoons and bowls in the basin of the sink, heavy boot steps, and muttered reminders, it was the first time in your life you’d shared a space with someone like this, domestically, effortlessly. When the timer blared you leapt back in shock, his hands covered in soap as he turned from the sink to steady you first before grabbing one of the old oven mitts Maria had given you to pull out the first batch of snickerdoodle cookies, the other going right in as you watched on in awe yet again.

“Do you want a drink?” you asked, realizing that you had to offer since he’d arrived.

“Think I’ve had enough,” he refused with a lopsided smirk, resetting the timer to twelve minutes, “Unless you’ve got some coffee.”

“I gave that to you.”

“Yeah, that’s gone.”

With a knowing nod you grabbed your last clean towel and joined him at the sink, drying the dishes as he passed them your way and putting them away, the task bringing you to the beep of the final timer. He’d already placed the first dozen on a plate, and after setting the other tray on the stovetop he grabbed the dish in one hand, his guitar in the other, and gestured towards your back door.

“Comin’?” he asked, and without a second thought, you nodded, opening the door up to allow him out first before following.

Chairs were something you hadn’t gotten yet, but he was perfectly content on the top side, his long legs bringing his feet to rest two steps down. You sat facing him, your legs stretching out behind his back to leave enough room for the neck of his guitar, the warm, buttery cookies he made better than you expected as you took your first bite. He laughed quietly as you hummed in approval, shooting you a look that screamed ‘told you so,’ his eyebrows raised mischievously as he pulled the instrument into place.

“Play something for me, Billy Joel,” you crooned, tapping his lower back with your foot, your eyes unable to stay away from the galaxies above.

“Don’t he play piano?” Joel replied with a chuckle, and you shrugged, the familiar notes of the song he always played floating out into the night.

“What was her favorite?” you took a chance in asking, his fingers stopping and resting against the strings.

“Song?” he asked after a pause, the response to your prying gentler than you expected.

“Yeah.”

It was a melody you vaguely remembered, but you could tell he was flubbing some of the notes when his face twisted in frustration and you sat and listened, noting the slowing of his motions and the way his lower lip began to pout out. You hoped it was cathartic, healing, and not something sending him further into the abyss of mourning he’d been caught in.

“It was from some boy band,” he explained as the song came to an end, “I hated ‘em. Fought tooth and nail when she wanted to put it on in the truck. I’d do anything to find that CD now.”

“We’ll find it,” you assured, the flicking of your lighter piquing his attention as you settled the last joint between your lips and took a drag.

“Lemme try that.”

“You sure?”

“I’ve done worse. Just don’t tell anyone.”

With a laugh you leaned forward, offering the roll to him and expecting him to pull it from your fingers, but instead, he just leaned over, pursing his lips around the end close enough to have them brushing against your skin as he pulled the smoke into his lungs and then promptly pulled away choking. There was no helping your eruption of giggles and snorts as he wheezed and heaved, his head shaking in disgust and embarrassment alike.

“Do not tell,” he stammered, “a god damn soul.”

“I’ll do my best,” you teased, standing so he’d follow you inside as he shot you a glare, “I promise,” you finally conceded, hands raised in surrender, “Cross my heart hope to die,” you finished, holding your pinky out as you grinned up at him.

“Cute.”

Another snort rumbled from your chest as he rolled his eyes, ignoring your gesture of good faith and retreating to your couch, plopping down on the middle cushion and resting his head back, his eyes drifting closed. You plopped down beside him, knees tucked to your chest, grabbing your TV and DVD player remotes off the small table set in front of you, turning on whatever series you’d been watching. Thankfully, it was The Office yet again, and you were happy it was something he’d at least moderately enjoy, but your concerns about the TV went out the window as his arm looped around your legs and pulled them straight over his lap, his eyes not even bothering to open as he rest forearms almost as thick as your calves over your knees.

Within minutes he was asleep, his deep, easy breathing a sound you’d come to crave as you lay in bed alone in your room. His mouth was slightly open, his face relaxed and the tension from the day melted away. At least you’d been right, it did put him right to sleep. The urge to drift off here in the safety of the presence you longed for was strong enough to have you fighting your eyes to stay open as you debated, his arms still heavy over the top of you. He looked so at peace; would jostling him rob him of the serenity he’d found here?

It felt wrong to allow him to wake up tangled in you, he was still slightly drunk and now under the effects of Eugene’s hybrid blend, what if tomorrow he woke up mortified with your body so close to his? Carefully, you slipped free of his hold, gently laying him down on the single couch pillow you’d managed to clean well enough to use, the tattered blanket he’d let you keep from your time on the road barely enough to cover him as you draped it over his still-unmoving body. Well, he was at least out cold.

Your own bed felt colder, the room too silent as you tried to forget the source of comfort just one floor below you now instead of blocks away, the knowledge that at least he was safe here in your living room calming enough to let you drift into a light sleep.

The sun was barely up when you woke, gray light filling your room as you woke without a scream still in last night’s clothes. It was silent, your mind reminding you that Joel was on the couch and your feet hit the cold wooden floor quickly in hopes you’d beat him to the morning. But as you turned into the room, the couch was empty, the blanket folded neatly on top of the couch, his guitar gone from where it had been perched against the side. You weren’t surprised, hell, maybe you’d dreamed it. It wasn��t unlike your brain to play cruel tricks on you.

Sighing, you made your way to the kitchen, your mouth dry and your stomach gurgling, a plastic container filled with cookies on the counter the first sight you saw before a single white sheet of notepaper from the pad by your couch caught your eye hanging on the fridge. The simple inscription scribbled in messy penmanship made your eyes roll as your lips ticked up into a knowing grin.

Thanks. -J

Chapter 8

#joel miller x reader #joel miller x you #joel miller x f!reader #the last of us fanfiction #the last of us fic #the last of us fanfic #tlou fanfic #tlou fanfiction #tlou fic

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chicken-fifi · 6 months

Text

Artist / Character: Kim Jeha/K2 (The K2)

Title: Insomnia

Prompt: it's just a nightmare

Requested by: anon

Tagging:

You bolted out of bed, a cold sweat coating your entire body. Your chest rose and fell as you took deep breaths attempting to calm yourself, reminding yourself that what you had just experienced was simply a nightmare, nothing more. Jeha sat up beside you, hands resting on your shoulders as he spoke softly, none of his words being heard initially.

How could they when you were so far gone? When did this become a nightly occurrence?

“Match my breathing,” he whispered, finally being heard and causing you to breathe with him as he placed your hand on his bare chest. “There you go.”

You stayed silent, eyes dropping as the panic left your body replaced by tiredness. When was the last time you’d even been able to sleep for an entire night without waking after seeing a far too realistic death of Jeha in your dream?

“I can’t stop seeing-” you began voice cracking before your bodyguard turned lover pulled you tightly against his frame.

“I’m here. I’m fine. And I will be here with you,” he declared. “Nothing is going to change that.”

#event #event masterlist #october event #october event masterlist #thrills and chills #thrills and chills event #thrills and chills event masterlist #kdrama drabble #kdrama #the k2 #the k2 drabble #the k2 kim jeha #the k2 k2 #kim jeha #k2 #kim jeha drabble #k2 drabble

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yesbutmakeitgay · 20 hours

Text

Once Upon A Time I Used To Know A Girl

Chapter 11

Carol Danvers x Reader

Masterlist | This work's masterlist | AO3

Summary: Kamala and Valkyrie have a heavy conversation, Valkyrie has had enough.

Angst, Slow Burn, Amnesia.

Word count: 948

Searching For Meaning

"You did what?" Kamala shrills.

"She ambushed me." The girl shoots Valkyrie a look.

Kamala pinches her nose, "You told her Carol's codename?"

"I did no such thing, I merely called her 'Marv' and she put the pieces together, it's not my fault she's that smart." The King tries to downplay it.

"How could you do that?"

"In my defense during the whole conversation I only slipped once, at the end. I deserve some credit for that."

The girl is beyond agitated, "No, you do not, you literally did the one thing Carol asked us not to do!"

"Correction, the one thing she asked you not to do," The King accentuates the word 'you,' "as far as I’m aware she hasn't spoken to me since she got back." She crosses her arms.

The girl stops her pacing around the room and lowers her voice, "Wait, not even once?"

"Not once."

"Are you okay with that?" Kamala asks feeling a little awkward.

"Does it look like I’m okay with it?"

"To be fair, you do always seem to be pretty chill with everything which is something I envy," she admits bashfully.

"Either way, it is not her wishes I work to uphold."

"Then what is it?"

"Peace." Valkyrie asserts with grace.

"God, you really are starting to sound like a King." Val feigns offense, "Well she's gonna find out sooner or later," Kamala points out, getting them back to the problem at hand.

"So we should get to her before she does." Valkyrie has already thought it through.

"How? She's not responding to anyone, clearly."

"All the more reason to pay her a visit." There is a mischievous look on The King's face.

"Hold on, before you do that, there is something I need to talk to you about," Valkyrie stops in her tracks, "I've been thinking,"

"Is that news to anyone?" Val teases her.

"About this whole situation and there is something very strange going on."

"Yeah, I told you that the first time you called me."

"I think I know what it is now." That catches The King's attention.

The girl begins to explain her train of thought, resuming her pacing, "The last mission she remembers is the one before she met Carol. She remembers Aladna and Prince Yan, but not Princess Carol. She remembers her home in Louisiana, but not that she shared it with Carol. She remembers working with Monica, but not working with Carol. She can't remember Monica's last mission with us, or that you became King, both of which involved Carol. She can't remember Carol's voice or her uniform," Valkyrie looks at her, confused, "the scar on her neck, I saw it before, but I didn’t pay it any mind."

"It’s from repeated use of a sedative," Val points out.

The girl stops again, "How’d you know that?"

"I don’t scar easily, but, if I did, I may have one just like it."

"So her nightmares are true," Kamala concludes.

"What are you suggesting?"

"Her memory loss wasn't an accident, it was the whole plan all along."

"Careful what you say little Marv," The King warns her.

"Just think about it, it's not like she only remembers things from a certain date back and she has been able to gradually recall more people and events with our help, but even though she has seen and heard Carol she just doesn't recognize her." There is a mixture of thrill and terror in the girl’s voice.

"You're saying the ambush's purpose was to kidnap her and take all her memories of Marv away? Why would they do that?" Valkyrie is not sold on the theory.

Kamala tries to make sense out of it, "Why would the bad guys take the most powerful good guy's loved one and erase their memory?"

"To get them out of the way, obviously," you meddle into their conversation, "you probably don't have enough power to get rid of the hero so you take what's most important to them, usually a damsel in distress, they'll be so aggrieved that they'll take themselves out of the game, then you can do whatever you want." The answer seems so clear to you.

They both stare at you in slight panic that you might have heard their discussion, "That checks out," Val accepts your answer tentatively.

"What are you guys talking about?"

"Nothing," they respond in unison. You sit beside them trying to ignore the silence your presence just created.

After some time you decide to break the tension, "I keep thinking about that symbol, I mean, if I worked with her for so long I would have definitely remembered it when I saw it again. And ‘Captain Marvel?’ It doesn’t feel right rolling off my tongue." Kamala’s heart skips a beat hearing you say Carol’s codename for the first time, "If she didn’t have anything to do with the accident, why did she go MIA? Just to piss me off?"

"To piss all of us off," Valkyrie mumbles, rolling her eyes, Kamala silently scolds her.

"She was so aggrieved that she took herself out of the game," the girl repeats your words slowly.

Realization dawns upon you, "Am I the damsel in distress?" Kamala can only give you a sympathetic smile, “How long?” You frown trying to process the news.

“Few years,” the girl answers softly, making your heart drop. Learning you were in a romantic relationship with The Captain for years makes it all the more concerning that you can't remember her.

Trusting you’re in good hands, Valkyrie borrows the keys to one of the very expensive cars in the compound and takes off.

"Where is she going?"

"To find Captain Marvel."

It's almost time for a reunion, who's ready? 👀

Tags: @graniairish @carols-photonblast @thelittleliars @unicorniusfallapatorius @prplepeony @eringranola

Let me know if you wanna be tagged :)

#carol danvers fic #carol danvers #carol danvers x reader #captain marvel #captain marvel x reader #carol danvers angst #kamala khan #valkyrie

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iibonniee · 5 months

Text

Day 2 | Yoo Kihyun

Paring: Yoo Kihyun x Reader

Genre: Fluff

Warnings: none

Rating: G

Word Count: 1.2k

Prompt: Snowball Fight

Masterlist

Tags: @doveslittlekpoparchive @choicesthot @xosunny @heaviihamonii

Asking Yoo Kihyun to a snowball fight was like a loss waiting to happen, yet she threw the offer on the table the moment she saw the blanket of snow that covered their front yard. Slowly, she turned back towards him, watching as his ears perked up at the idea she had thrown at him.

She couldn’t tell what was slowly etching on his face. She remained uncertain whether it was a smirk of amusement or a spark of competitiveness. Even though the room was cozy and warm, a chill of anticipation went down her spine. She found herself holding her breath as Kihyun contemplated the proposal.

In the silenced room, she could only hear the soft ticking of the wall clock and the crackling of the firewood burning in the fireplace. She gazed at Kihyun, his expression unreadable yet intriguing. His eyes flicked to the window and then back to her, a thoughtful crease formed on his forehead. His dark eyes seemed to sparkle at the prospect, matching the twinkling snowflakes outside.

Finally, he got up from his seat, removing the blanket that was warmly wrapped around him. As he walked towards the front door, he briefly glanced at her, the corners of his mouth slightly lifting up. “As much as you are cute, I won’t lose to you,” he declared, his voice light and filled with mirth. “Get ready to lose, babe.”

She blinked, surprised by his acceptance and eagerness. With a playful smile tugging at her lips, she rose to the challenge, mentally preparing herself to face Kihyun in a thrilling snowball fight. She watched as he threw on his heavy coat; his eyes flicked over to her, then to her own jacket, then to her hat and gloves, silently telling her to throw it on to keep warm and meet him outside.

Nodding, she picked her warm, fluffy coat from the hanger and slipped it on, a sense of excitement bubbling up inside her. Following Kihyun’s silent advice, she grabbed her gloves and winter hat. Her fingers wiggled into the warm confines of her gloves while she pulled down the hat until it was snug over her ears. The chill of the winter air was instantly warded off, a soft sigh escaping her lips.

A blast of crisp, cold air greeted her as she stepped outdoors. The snow beneath her boots crunched, the sound echoing in the tranquil winter landscape. She could see Kihyun a few steps away, his dark hair peeking out from under his beanie. He turned around when he heard her approach, his dark eyes sparkling with impish delight.

He walked up to her and gave her a once-over, checking if she was tightly bundled up. His fingers gingerly reached out to zip up her coat all the way, ensuring every bit of warmth was locked in. He straightened her hat, making sure it covered her ears.

“Can’t have you freezing, can we?” he teased, a smug smirk playing on his lips. His attentiveness warmed her more than the coat and hat combined. Having double-checked that she was well protected against the cold, he stepped back, preparing for the upcoming battle. “Shall we begin, my love?” he asked, a wicked gleam in his eyes. The snowball fight was scheduled to kick off now. She felt a jolt of adrenaline pulse through her. She was ready.

With her nod of acknowledgment, Kihyun began to step back, retreating to maintain a fair distance between them before the first snowball was launched. Despite the underlying competitiveness, his smile was soft, even comforting. With each step, he playfully kicked up some snow, some of it spraying towards her.

“All right, here are the rules. No, aiming for the face, no ice balls, and the snow fort is off-limits until declared otherwise,” he began, his voice booming through the crisp winter air. He looked back at her, happy yet earnest, as if he were a referee outlining the rules of a professional sporting event. “We start when I throw the first snowball. You ready?” he asked, the pure mischief in his eyes now replaced with a glint of competitive seriousness.

Without waiting for her reply, he bent over, scooped up a handful of snow, and expertly fashioned it into a snowball. With her heart racing in her chest, she braced herself as he aimed. The first snowball zipped through the air a moment later, marking the beginning of their winter showdown.

The snowy battlefield erupted into action as the first snowball cut through the winter air. The soft thud as it landed signaled the start of their playful combat. Kihyun’s laughter echoed in the winter air, followed by her own as she quickly formed a snowball and returned fire.

The front yard came to life with their merry giggles, sounding like music to the snow-covered landscape. They darted around, ducking behind snowbanks, leaping up to launch their next snowball, their competitive spirits breaking free. Each hit was greeted with triumphant laughter or feigned annoyance, but the spark in their eyes and the joy on their faces truly made the day special.

When a particularly well-aimed snowball from her hit Kihyun square in the chest, his surprised yelp was quickly replaced with a hearty laugh. He retaliated with an impressive throw that sent a spray of snow over her, prompting a yelp of surprise and then laughter from her.

Their shared laughter rang harmoniously throughout the quiet winter front yard, a testament to their joyful camaraderie. They moved seamlessly around their battlefield, happy shouts and giggles providing a lively soundtrack to their snowball fight. Every snowball thrown, every triumphant cheer, was a symbol of their playful bond.

The fun and laughter carried on, their shadows lengthening on the snowy ground as daylight faded. But they didn’t notice. All that mattered was the joy of the moment – them, their laughter, and a friendly snowball fight under the winter sky.

The final throw of the game was hers. With a quick, determined grin, she scooped up a handful of snow, packing it tightly into her hands. Swinging her arm back, she took one last aim at Kihyun before shooting her arm forward, releasing the snowball. It sailed through the fading light of the afternoon, and with a direct, triumphant hit, it collided with Kihyun’s coat.

Their laughter halted momentarily, the silence echoing in victory as Kihyun looked down at the snow splattered against him. Then, breaking the silence, Kihyun’s laughter filled the air again, louder and warmer.

She had won.

“Well, aren’t you the champion?” he teased, a broad grin stretched across his face as he started moving towards her. Her heart pounded in her chest, her breath puffing in the cold winter air. Kihyun didn’t stop until he stood right before her, his playful eyes crinkling into a triumphant smile.

Before she could answer, he reached out, grabbing her by the waist and pulling her close to him. A gasp escaped her as she stumbled into his chest. And then he was kissing her face, dropping small, gentle kisses on her cold cheeks, nose, and forehead, each making her giggle and squirm in his arms. His touch was a delightful contrast to the cold winter air, each kiss leaving a small patch of warmth on her skin.

They were still standing in their snowy battlefield, but the snowball fight seemed a world away now. All that was left was their shared laughter, ringing in the quiet winter yard, his arms around her and his kisses warming her through. This, she thought, losing herself in his embrace, was the real victory of their snowball fight.

#kchristmas #kvanity #monsta x imagines #monsta x x reader #kihyun imagines #kihyun imagine #kihyun x reader #kihyun fluff #monsta x fluff

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ivanzplaid · 2 years

Note

If you have time could you write about the Grabber and male reader having to cuddle for warmth because the basement is too cold. The reader hates physical contact but doesn't say anything because the Grabber scares him. Thank you and have a good day! (there needs to be more grabber x male reader fics)

oooo, i feel like subconsciously the grabber knows youre afraid, he reads body language well, so when you dont say anything he takes advantage of this, he'd bring the newspaper down and have you on his lap or next to him with an arm around you while he reads, not paying attention to it but rather you and how antsy you are :)

also omfg thank you for 412 followers?? this means the world to me bro im still thinking of what i should do, so suggestions r welcomed!

little rushed because ive been busier, but i hope its still nice!

requests r open, masterlist is up!!

The Grabber x Male Reader

Warnings: Uncomfortable Reader, Manipulation, The Grabber, Crossed Boundaries,

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His feet were planted before you, head tilted down, mocking you. The basements chilled air raised visible goosebumps on you, and he noted that from the start, but the persistence you had in denying you were cold made him even more curious, you were always so damn tenacious.

From his view, what he saw was a shivering, vulnerable man, who avoided Al's gaze with every bit of energy he had left. How cute.

"You know, it's winter. The cold slipping in, huh?"

The man giggled after speaking, and he lowered himself down to your level, placing a hand securely on your shoulder. Yet your eyes were out of it, unfocused. He knew you were trying to slip your conscious from here, from him, so while the event took place, he decided to test the waters.

"Not a winter fan, are you?"

While the moments passed of no response, he pulled himself in to you. The bottom part of his makeshift mask was gone, leaving the bottom of his face revealed for you. His breathing was steady as it hit your cold cheeks, his breath was a warm contrast to the chilled air.

While he kept his eyes trained on you, his hand trailed its way up your arm to your cheek, warming it as he held you. As soon as his hand found its place, soon did his lips, bringing themselves to your forehead, maintaining his caring demeanor. Pulling away, he felt your cheeks heat up, and a new expression shifted in your eyes, giving him ideas. You were frozen in what he assumed was fear, the way you avoided his touch, and him in general made it obvious, but you weren't a fighter, not like his other situations. You, were a freezer. You let him do what he wanted, as long as you went unharmed, and the thought of having such a gentle guy, all to himself, made Al thrilled.

"Hm, I guess we're never to old to learn new things. I will be right back my dove, don't move too far."

With that, he lifted himself up by his knees, and strode across the cement floor, echoing on his way. If you weren't going to object to what he had to think, then he would put this winters day to work, finally forming the fantasy he'd been dreaming of.

The strange man you'd been stuck with had only left for a short while, scurrying upstairs and leaving you in the terrified silence. You felt like a safe cracked open, your secrets, your inside thoughts had been pried open. The empty, dull room never consoled you, and in this moment, it seemed to taunt you, offering you silence as comfort.

When the heavy footsteps taking their time down the stairs reached your ears, you felt your heart beat speed up, the beating replacing the once deafening silence. The steps were slowed, and intentional, working only as a factor for fear that the man seemed to feed off of. Seeing the metal door being pushed open, an agonizing screech accompanied with it made you cringe where you sat, your eyes squinting while your face contorted to an uncomfortable feeling.

Besides your ringing heart, you heard nothing. Tension choked you, and spared Al.

"I thought to pass the time, together. I fetched a newspaper for me, you can make do with what I have in mind."

It was like a sickening blow to your stomach, hearing his words soon become your reality. The world was just making fun of you now.

His right arm indeed had the newspaper wrapped between in, the date hidden from your view. Taking in his presence while he walked to you, you saw how his outfit had changed, a woolly cardigan with thick pants were now on him, supporting himself. The closer he got, the more comforting his clothing looked, and you wished you had something more vibrant on.

Once again, he found his way to the foot of your mattress, longingly peering down at you. He drank in the wat you stared at him with a protective look on your face, eyebrows furrowed, but as soon as he made himself comfortable next to you, the look hastily disappeared, its place taken by a slightly frantic look. His arm maneuvered its way around your waist, holding you closer to his warmth, and the other began adjusting the newspaper to his liking. But the entire time you thought his eyes were reading, they were familiarizing themselves with you.

The way you slightly moved under his touch, attempting to get away, only to pause swiftly when he brought you into him was the cutest damn thing. You were his sweet boy, even though you were in your early twenties, and he loved your little actions you thought went unnoticed. The naive, yet careful movements you projected enticed him. You ere unknowingly bringing him closer to you, both physically & metaphorically.

If you were always so willing, he would have to pray there would be colder nights coming.

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something quick because this requests has been sitting for some time n im so sorry abt that💔

requests r open, masterlist is up!!

#black phone #the grabber #the grabber x reader #the grabber x you #ethan hawke #hot killer #queer #slasher #gay

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criminalmindzjunkie · 3 years

Text

The More Loving One

Masterlist

Summary: Professor Reid finds himself falling for a student.

A/N: This fic is based on this request. I changed a few things up, but I hope you like the finished product!

Long time, no see! It seems like forever since I got to sit down and just enjoy writing something. And enjoy this, I did. I approached this one a bit differently than I usually do, but I like how it turned out none the less. I hope you all enjoy my take on the Professor Reid arc. The first poem I use in this fic is titled The More Loving One by W.H. Auden, and the second is from a collection of Perry poetry.

Also, I recently hit 2k followers, which is absolutely unbelievable. I can’t even begin to explain how thankful I am for each and every one of you. This fic is my love letter to you. Thank you all so much.

Pairing: Professor!Spencer Reid x Fem!Reader

Content Warnings: a few swear words maybe?, teacher x student relationship, age gap, exhibitionism (sorta?), vaginal fingering, unprotected sex

Word Count: 4k

For as long as Spencer can remember, he’s always had a predilection for the finer things in life.

Spencer attributes the origin of his preferences to his upbringing. In his childhood, before his mother’s disease got the better of her, she exposed him to all sorts of literature. While he ventured to read all types of writings, he’d always been partial to tales of extravagance. A young Spencer Reid sought refuge in the profligacy of it all, as it was so starkly different from his own reality. Forced to bear the burden of household and a sick mother from an early age, Spencer’s own life left little room for reckless indulgence.

Now, as a single adult male, Spencer makes it a point to give himself up to the finer things as often as he can. Spencer isn’t a rich man, nor is he careless with what hard-earned money he does have. He simply likes to treat himself to the occasional five-star meal, and even more frequently, posh clothing and rare books. Walls lined with hundreds of antiquarian novels and a closet full of Comme Des Garçon cardigans are where the indulgence ends, however, and until recently Spencer was content with this.

But when she strolls into his life on the very first day of his teaching career, Spencer knows that his small luxuries will no longer be enough to keep him satisfied. The part of him that longs to have only the very best roars to life as he takes in every perfect inch of her. She stands before him, the embodiment of divinity and grace, looking like every fantasy he only dares to conjure up in the late hours of the night. A litany of cliches from every piece of romantic literature he’s ever read spring to the forefront of his mind in the instant that her eyes met his, but there is nothing stereotypical about the way her gaze banishes the air from his lungs. It is as jarring as it is intoxicating. He never wants to look away.

Unfortunately, she doesn’t feel the same. With a light flush of her cheeks, she turns away from him, and in an equally unfortunate turn of events, she proceeds to shuffle down the aisle and into the second row of seats to the right of the podium. The realization that washes over him feels like ice water in his veins.

She’s a student. Worse even – she’s his student.

Spencer wrenches his gaze from her as if he’s been burned, and the fiery shame of his embarrassment makes him tug at his collar. As he struggles to stave away the lingering heat in his chest and even more embarrassingly, the tightness in his trousers, Spencer chastises himself. His own carnal urges often go ignored, a fact that is glaringly obvious as he cowers behind his podium in an attempt to hide his arousal. He feels more than a little bit pathetic. No self-respecting thirty-five-year-old man gets hard just from gazing upon a beautiful young woman.

When Spencer pulls himself together enough to start his lecture, he positively forbids himself to look her way. It is hard to fight the urge, but every time he catches his eyes wandering to her, he reminds himself that she is an indulgence he simply cannot partake in. No matter how badly he wants to.

It doesn’t take long for her to notice him noticing her.

In the early days of the semester, she manages to convince herself that the stolen glances are but a figment of her overactive imagination. That, or an unhealthy dose of wishful thinking. But as the semester stretches on and the professor’s eyes linger more and more, wishful thinking gives way to a startling realization that she isn’t alone in her attraction. Professor Reid is, to her complete and utter astonishment, just as taken with her as she is with him.

This is all but confirmed when a slight brushing of the hands during an exchange of papers leaves them both with flushed cheeks and pounding hearts. Both of their heads snap up, two sets of eyes meeting in a prolonged stare that results in an understanding of sorts. It’s mutual, this thing blossoming between them. She can see her own hopes reflected in two velvet pools of brown – can see the longing, the desire that burns within them. Her heart soars, as she imagines his does, and she accepts the papers with a smile.

She also imagines that, if he could, he would tell her to wait for him. He would tell her that, for now, their relationship must stay strictly professional.

This doesn’t stop them from sating their cravings in other ways.

She makes it a point to stop by during office hours at least twice a week. Her visits always fall under the guise of her studies, but within minutes their hushed conversations stray from the professional and towards a more personal nature. She learns of Spencer’s mother and her condition, of his unusual job and his coworkers that were more like family. In return, she tells him about her upbringing in southern California, as well as her dreams of becoming a criminal psychologist. They never go as far as to discuss what will happen when the semester comes to a close. It is an unspoken agreement that the end of the semester will find them in each other’s arms. All they have to do is wait.

Spencer can’t voice his affections with words, but he more than makes up for this with his actions. Without fail, every Monday following the very first clandestine brushing of hands, lavish bouquets of flowers arrive at her workplace. Each bouquet is always paired with a notecard inscribed with a brief explanation of the meaning behind that week’s flower of choice. Cherry blossoms to pay homage to her beauty, plumeria to symbolize their new beginning, agrimony to convey his thankfulness that she is willing to wait for him.

Her favorite bouquet arrives four weeks before the end of the semester. As she steps through the doors of the bakery, a vase full of nine red roses sits atop the counter. The sight of them nearly takes her breath away. She pauses for a moment and runs her fingertips across the velveteen petals before plucking the notecard from its place.

This week, Spencer chooses to forgo the explanation in favor of a messily scrawled poem;

Looking up at the stars, I know quite well

that, for all they care, I can go to hell,

But on earth indifference is the least

we have to dread from man or beast.

How should we like it were stars to burn

with a passion for us we could not return?

If equal affection cannot be,

let the more loving one be me.

That evening, Spencer receives his first bouquet from her. On his desk sits an arrangement of pale pink ambrosia.

The meaning isn’t lost on him, but if it were, the note that sits next to the vase makes her intentions clear.

We never had to force love.

We were drowning in it from the moment we met.

Spencer is horribly frustrated.

A mere twenty feet away from where he stands, the notoriously garish and wholly unprofessional PhD program director is gesticulating wildly to the young woman that stands trapped between him and the hors d’oeuvre table. To find Professor Van Wesep in such a position is not uncommon, due to his penchant for trying to charm (terrorize) the prospective female doctoral candidates. The man is practically a walking harassment complaint waiting to happen. Spencer would abhor Van Wesep even if he weren’t the only thing standing in the way of him and his lover.

At long last, the semester has drawn to a close. The lonely nights spent longing to hold her in his arms are a thing of the past. By the time the sun rises again, Spencer will no longer have to wonder what her body will feel like pressed against his. He’ll be thoroughly acquainted with every inch of her, and she with him. The thought sends a thrilled chill down his spine.

The torturous foreplay they’ve been engaging in for the last four months would have surely broken a lesser man. Spencer would be lying if he said he wasn’t tempted on more than one occasion to have her during one of her frequent visits to his office. Some days, when her visits came later in the evenings, just as the sun began to dip low in the sky, her eyes would glisten in such a way that told Spencer her thoughts were none dissimilar to his own. That glimmer of lust had him holding on to his restraint by the skin of his teeth.

And here they were, on the last evening of the semester. Final grades had been submitted and were released hours prior. Spencer would have been content to skip this event altogether, in favor of more… recreational activities, but his lover insisted on attending.

Initially, Spencer assumed her insistence lay in her desire to mingle with her future peers and mentors. Her true intentions come to light when she breezes into the room clad in a pair of sleek, designer pumps. Her lips, painted fire engine red, curl up into a playful smile at the sight of a slack-jawed Spencer Reid. The devious glint in her eye twinkles sinfully in the light.

Tonight isn’t a social call at all. Tonight, she wants to play with him.

And play she has.

From the second she arrives all eyes are fixating on her celestial beauty. Peers and mentors alike trip over themselves in their haste to capture her attention, if only for a fleeting moment. She works the room flawlessly, leaving a trail of smitten men of all ages in her wake.

The most smitten is Spencer himself, because he’s the lone recipient of countless heated glances, as well as more than a few knowing smirks. She well aware of what she’s doing to him, and she takes pleasure in watching him squirm.

Spencer intervenes when Van Wesep makes the ill-advised decision to reach a hand up to tuck a piece of hair behind her ear. He barely has the time to withdraw his hand before Spencer is upon them.

“I apologize for the interruption,” Spencer casts a faux apologetic glance at his colleague, before settling his gaze on his target. “Ms. Y/L/N, may I speak to you for a moment?”

She looks positively gleeful. Perhaps Spencer should have intervened hours ago.

“Absolutely, Professor Reid.”

The honorific sends a jolt of heat straight to his groin. He definitely should have stolen her away earlier.

The two of them say their goodbyes to a confused Professor Van Wesep, whose imploring eyes follow them as they hurriedly slip from the party and down the hallway.

“Where are we going?”

Spencer leads her down a long corridor, far beyond earshot of the other guests. Pushing her into a dark corner, he positions her between himself and the cold wooden door of an unoccupied office. The only sounds that can be heard are the distant thrum of the music and the eager pants falling from his lover’s lips.

Spencer pulls her into a searing kiss, one hand tangling in her hair and the other finding purchase on her waist. He worries for a moment that he’s being too rough with her, that he should have taken a more careful approach to their first kiss, but she assuages those worries when she kisses him back with equal enthusiasm. Her hand reaches between them and clutches his tie, then she’s pulling him closer and whining wantonly against his lips. Spencer takes this as an invitation to slip his tongue inside and he finds himself letting out a low groan when he tastes a hint of strawberry.

Spencer pulls away to catch his breath. “You have no idea how long I’ve wanted to do that.”

“Oh, I think I do, Professor,” she laughs, breathless. “Probably just as long as I’ve wanted to do this.”

Spencer jolts forward when her hand slides down to cup him over his trousers.

“Could’ve done that a lot earlier if you hadn’t insisted on teasing me for the entire night,” Spencer growls through gritted teeth. He’s more than a little proud of his ability to string together a sentence with her hand working him over with slow, steady strokes.

He trails a line of kisses across the underside of her jaw, before taking her earlobe and nipping it lightly with his canine. Spencer’s actions are rewarded with a full body shudder. He dips his tongue in the hollow at the base of her throat and her hands ball into fists against his dress shirt.

“Spencer, please.”

Spencer hums and pulls back to look at her. The hand in her hair lowers, and he trails a thumb across where her nipples are hard against the fabric of her dress.

“Yes, my love?”

Her eyes flutter against the weight of her arousal, and Spencer twitches in his pants. The sight of her with her hair disheveled and her lipstick smeared on account of him is a heavenly thing. He doesn’t know how he ever deprived himself of such a splendor.

“I want you. Right now.” She punctuates her words by pulling him down into a frenzied kiss. One of her hands tangles itself in the hair at the nape of his neck while the other busies with tugging his shirt out of his pants.

“Right now?” Spencer taunts, mouth against mouth. His hand trails down the side of her breast, caressing her rib cage and her hip before stopping at her upper thigh. Spencer’s fingertips toy with the tops of her lace thigh highs. “But anyone could walk by and see us.”

“I don’t care,” she argues, fumbling clumsily as she struggles to undo his belt buckle.

Spencer’s wandering hand dips below the hem of her dress to explore the silky-smooth skin of her inner thigh. She’s soft here, too, he thinks to himself as his hand travels up, up, up. He stops just short of where she wants him most and she lets out a despairing cry.

“You wouldn’t mind someone walking by and seeing you with your pretty legs spread wide for your professor?”

Spencer brings life to his words by lifting her leg up, hitching her thigh around his hip and pressing into her. The silk fabric of her dress rustles as he pushes it up and out of the way.

A breathy moan tumbles from her lips as he rocks against her, dragging his arousal up and down the front of her lace panties. The friction is maddening in that it provides only the smallest bit of relief. It’s not enough for Spencer, and judging by the way she desperately pushes down the fabric of his pants, it’s not enough for his partner, either.

“Need to get these off now,” she murmurs against Spencer’s mouth. An eager hand tugs at the elastic band of his underwear.

Spencer places his hand on hers, stilling her movements. “Not so fast, baby. Gotta make sure you’re ready for me first.”

Her fingers clamp down on Spencer’s wrist, guiding him to the sodden lace between her thighs.

“Don’t think that’s gonna be a problem,” she whimpers as Spencer’s fingers take appraisal of the drenched cloth. “In fact, I think four months of foreplay is sufficient enough. Wouldn’t you say?”

“Maybe so,” Spencer muses, voice muffled as he sucks at the skin of her neck. “But I’m not willing to chance hurting you our first time together. You’re entirely too precious to me.”

Spencer captures her lips in a kiss so sweet it has her sighing into his mouth. When he pulls away, he fixes her with a smile.

“You’re not particularly fond of these panties, are you?”

Her eyebrows pull together. “No, why?”

Spencer pulls at the flimsy fabric harshly and it gives way under the force of it. He reaches back to stuff the thong in his back pocket.

“That’s why.”

Spencer’s lips come down against hers at the same time his middle and index fingers drag across her slickness. His foresight pays off when his mouth muffles the sound of her cries. As confident he is that they won’t be found, a cry like that would certainly have drawn unwanted attention.

The swipe of his thumb across her crest paired with the gentle pressure of his fingers dipping into her heat is enough to make her legs buckle. Had it not been for Spencer pressing her against the wall, she surely would have fallen to the ground in a trembling heap.

“I could get lost in you for hours,” Spencer groans, curling his fingers inside her in such a way that makes her clutch desperately to his shirt.

“Spencer, oh my God,” she keens. “I need you, please.”

“You have me, my love,” Spencer whispers the promise against her parted lips. “You’ve had me since the first moment I laid eyes on you.”

Spencer speeds up the onslaught of his fingers until the telltale tightening of her heat warns him of her impending climax. He has to bite down on his lower lip to regain his own composure. The feeling of her tight and wet around his fingers is almost too good.

“Spencer, I’m getting close,” she whimpers.

Spencer continues until she’s on the cusp of tumbling over the edge, until one more pass of his fingers against her crest would surely seal the deal, and then he’s removing his hand and taking a step back.

“Spencer, what the fu-,” she pauses when he promptly shoves his pants and underwear just enough to free himself from their painful confines. “Oh.”

A dazed smile makes its way to her face as Spencer presses himself against her once more. He sweeps her up into a kiss comprised of pure, unadulterated desire, before pulling away and smirking deviously at her.

“Jump.”

It takes a moment for her pleasure fogged brain to make sense of the request, but as soon as it does, she complies without question.

Spencer’s hands grip her thighs firmly and in one swift thrust he sheaths himself into her fully – an indulgence so grand that all others dull in comparison. Now that he’s had the finest, felt it wrapped around him like warm velvet, he can’t imagine a world in which he must live without it.

“Spencer!”

Spencer swears he’s never heard a sweeter sound than her crying out his name as their bodies come together for the first time. It’s synonymous with a siren call, he thinks, because in that moment she could lure him to certain death and he knows he would go with a smile.

His lips seek purchase on the exposed skin of her chest as he buries himself in her paradise again and again. The sharp sting of her heels digging into his back with every thrust brings out a sort of primal urge in him, spurring him to rut up into her like a man possessed.

“You feel perfect,” Spencer groans out against the flushed skin of her neck. He presses a soft kiss to where her pulse bounds just beneath the skin before pulling away and locking eyes with her. “When I’m old and gray and can remember nothing else, I’ll remember this. I’ll remember how it felt to kiss you for the first time – how it felt to touch you. How it felt to worship you and make love to your body.”

Spencer’s voices catches, thick and overwhelmed with emotion.

“I’ll remember how it feels to love you.”

Her breath catches in her throat and sharp pang of panic burns hot in his chest. Had he misinterpreted her affections? Did she not burn for him in the same way? Perhaps the ambrosia meant nothing. Spencer’s movements falter, and for several torturous seconds he’s nearly paralyzed with fear.

She silences those fears with a kiss.

“Oh, Spencer,” she sighs as she presses her forehead against his. “I love you, too. More than you could ever comprehend.”

Spencer resumes moving in and out of her, but the frenzied feeling from before is replaced with something else now. Something softer, but no less passionate.

“Yeah?” he inquires, searching her eyes for any trace of insincerity. He finds none, and it’s a relief. Any hint of falseness in her claim would surely lead to a heartbreak he could never recover from.

“Yes.” The word trails off into a moan. “I love you, Spencer Reid. I don’t imagine I’ll ever stop.”

Spencer’s heart jolts and he whines pathetically against her mouth. “I’m counting on that.”

“I’m close, Spencer,” she pants, her breath hitting his face in warm puffs. “Don’t think I can last much longer.”

“Me, too.” Spencer nudges her nose with his own. “Reach between us and touch yourself, my love. I want us to cum together. Can you do that for me?”

She nods, and the hand that clung to his right shoulder dips in between them to rub tight circles against her crest. Spencer doubles his efforts when he sees her eyelids flutter closed, and the resulting tightening of her core leaves him panting hard.

“Spencer, I-” her breath catches in her throat as Spencer delivers a particularly strong thrust. Her head falls against his shoulder, her soft moans of his name like heaven to his ears.

“Cum with me, baby,” Spencer grunts out desperately. He needs it like he needs air to breath and water to drink. And once he has it, he knows he’ll need it again and again.

She gives it to him with a muffled cry of his name and he’s instantly swept away, drowning in the blissful way her body sings for him. His body follows her lead, shattering completely under her fingertips.

While he’s been through similar acts with previous partners, those instances always felt impersonal and clinical. The caresses and whispered words were all a means to an end, an end that usually left him feeling lonelier and emptier than when he started. But right now, as he feels the beat of her heart pressed against his own, he swears he couldn’t feel fuller - full of adoration, full of affection, full of love. It’s beautiful and overwhelming and everything Spencer didn’t know he was looking for.

A raucous round of applause erupts from the direction of the party, startling the two of them. Spencer feels her laugh against his neck.

“It’s almost as if they were applauding us for a job well done.”

Spencer presses a chaste kiss to the crown of her head.

“As they should. That was sensational.”

Spencer carefully pulls out and lowers her to the floor. He wastes no time in tilting her chin up and capturing her lips in a reverent kiss. Spencer hopes his lips convey his gratitude.

The two of them pull apart and set to making themselves presentable. Their efforts prove to be in vain when Spencer points out a dark purple love bite nestled into the crook of her neck. She counters this by taking note of the smudge of red lipstick on his collar.

“What an adulterous pair we make, Professor.”

Spencer rolls his eyes good-naturedly. “I’m not your professor anymore.” He bends down and places a kiss to her lips before taking her hand in his.

“I suppose you’re not,” she muses as they meander down the corridor. “Whatever shall we do now?”

As the two of them step out of the dark hallway and reenter the party, Spencer smiles to himself. Visions of wedding rings flit through his mind. Spencer supposes he’ll have to take a break from the posh clothing and rare books in favor of saving his money. He’ll buy only the finest ring for his future wife, after all.

“I have a few ideas.”

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