#time for 8 more hours of running around in the woods!! | Explore Tumblr Posts and Blogs

ceilidho · 1 month

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take me home, country road

[ao3]

You have nothing on your person apart from a hastily packed suitcase and the dress you came into town wearing, on the run from trouble back home. Too bad John's missing a bride that matches your description. Or: the 1800s (mistaken) mail order bride au (part 8)

part 1, part 2, part 3, part 4, part 5, part 6, part 7

Now a nocturnal animal emerges into the daylight hours.

A week becomes two and your shoulders untense. It’s not something you notice at first because you’re used to an ever present strain between your shoulder blades and an ache in your jaw from grinding your teeth at night. Then a fortnight goes by without so much as a missive with your name on it floating across John’s desk or a stranger appearing in town after tracking you down, and you wonder if maybe the world really is big enough to hide in.

It sure feels that way at times. The woods beyond the bounds of John’s property stretch out farther than the eye can see and even walking it feels like you could disappear into another realm. Old spruces shoot up high into the clouds, and deeper into the woods, huge rock formations grow more and more prominent as you near the mountains. John takes you through the woods on horseback, following the rough trails carved into the dirt by a century of wagons and carts using the same path. The footprints of a different time.

Up in the trees, birds warble and chirp, talking to one another in songs that you’ve never heard before. A woodpecker drills into the side of a tree. Pinecones snap out of the upper branches and drop to the forest floor.

There is only a single trail and it’s easy to lose. You grow a bit nervous when John takes you off the trail and deeper into the woods, but he does so with the confidence of a man that knows these woods like the back of his hand. You go quiet when he stops Buttercup to let a herd of deer wander by, the stragglers hurrying to catch up with the group, throwing the two of you nervous glances before they disappear into the thicket.

“Should we be out this far?” you ask in a whisper, reluctant to disturb the silence. Though the woods are full of animals that bleat, chirp, chatter, and hoot, the sound of your own voice feels preternaturally loud and shrill.

“We won’t get lost, darlin’. I know my way around,” John reassures you, curling an arm around your waist to hold you to him. These days, you hardly worry about tumbling off the horse. Not with him at your back anyway.

“That wasn’t really my worry,” you mumble, trailing off.

“Then what’re you getting all worked up about?”

“Aren’t there wolves out here? Or bears?”

He snorts, the sound making you jolt. You don’t topple over because he has such a firm hold around your waist. “They don’t usually come this close to town. They’re more scared of you than you are of them.”

“That sounds like something mothers tell their children to stop them crying,” you say flatly. You draw your legs up automatically when John directs Buttercup through a shallow basin, a shortcut back home. It makes you anxious for a moment, but the water barely goes up to her ankles, so you relax when you realize that you’re in no danger of being swept away by the current.

“That doesn’t mean a bear or wolf can’t wander by, but it’s rare.”

“And there it is.”

You can feel the heat of his glower on the back of your head. “We could spend the night out here if you want to see for yourself.”

At that, you shut your mouth. Even if he were to prove his point, you have no interest in camping out in the woods now that you’ve become accustomed to the luxury of a soft bed. Granted that you’re forced to share that same bed, still you’ve never slept half as well as you do these days. You wake up rested after nine hours of blissful shut eye, a sleep so deep that your dreams only come in half-remembered flashes. Often they involve the man you wake up wrapped around, and for that you’re grateful that they remain submerged.

A new desire has started to burrow its way into the back of your mind in recent days. It starts out as a thought so brief that you hardly notice it before it skitters away.

And then it lingers.

You wake up in the middle of the night hot, sweat dripping down the nape of your neck and a fire burning in your loins, a red-hot coil wound around itself, fit to burst. Pulsating. At some point throughout the night, you must have thrown a leg around John’s waist because it rests there now, your hand planted in the middle of his chest and your sex all but rubbing up against his thigh. Under your hand, you can feel his heart pump strong and steady.

You hold very, very still, waiting for him to wake. But John sleeps on, his palm loose where it rests along the curve of your hip, fingers curling into the flesh of your backside.

You can hardly look at him these days without shaking. You’ve come to fixate on the sway of his hips when he walks and the flecks of silver in his beard. The grooves in his weathered hands. The way your head fits in the palm of his hand when he cradles it to his chest. The fond glimmer in his eyes that shines the brightest when he puts his hat on your head and it slips past your eyes, too big for your head.

When you tip it up in order to see, the folds around his eyes become more pronounced with the force of his smile.

“There you are, bug,” he says, taking the hat off your head to set it back on his and reeling you in for a kiss.

Bug, love, honey, darling. The constant flux of endearments makes your head spin. John never calls you by the name on your marriage license. It’s like that name means nothing to him, cast away at the first opportunity and replaced by an endless stream of pet names.

He hasn’t touched your sex since making you come on the porch swing the week before. He pulls you into a chaste embrace at night, the only evidence of his own desire being the stiff shaft nestled against the small of your back in the early morning hours, which he takes care of on his own in the bathroom downstairs after pressing a kiss to your cheek. You feel robbed of something, though you don’t know quite what.

You’re tempted to offer your help, but you don’t know exactly what that would entail. Inexperience and fear of rejection hold you back, stay your tongue. In the two weeks you’ve been married, he hasn’t once tried to pin you down and rut between your thighs like you expected and dreaded that very first night.

Now that that time has passed, you don’t know how to initiate that moment again.

John promises to teach you how to ride a horse. You can’t see a reason to protest, much to your chagrin. Despite your apprehensions, even you can’t deny that it would be a helpful skill. A train only goes one way after all, confined to a single track. A horse has no such laws to obey.

The thought stays nestled at the back of your mind as the days continue on.

You flounder around in the kitchen on the day that John invites his deputies over for supper. You’ve met the big one—Simon—now a small handful of times, each encounter marked by a silence that sucks the air out of the room when he turns his gaze on you and holds it. Perhaps you’ve simply ascribed too much importance to his person, given that every time you’ve seen him, your life has changed irrevocably. His presence is always followed by revelation it seems. The archangel of vicissitude. A harbinger of uncertain times.

The other two are new. John introduces you to them when you bring out the cutlery and crockery to set the table, and you nearly go cross-eyed when they reach across the table at the same time to offer their hands. You go to meet them halfway, but flinch when John brings his hand down on the table with enough force to make the silverware jump.

“Sorry, darlin’,” he apologizes to you first before turning his glare on the other two. “That ain’t proper, boys. You wait for the lady to offer her hand first—you don’t treat a woman like she’s a mutt you’re teaching to shake.”

“Ah, sorry, hen,” the one on the left says, his voice a thick Scottish brogue like a purr. He’s possibly the handsomest man you’ve ever met, but there’s something dangerous and wild in his eyes. When he smiles, it curls up in a roguish sort of way that makes you falter, like he’s in on a joke that you aren’t. “Dinnae mean to offend. No’ often we get ta meet such a pretty lady.”

“Sorry—” the one on the right apologizes in a voice far more earnest than his counterpart’s. “And sorry for him. We think he was raised by wolves.”

“What’s yer excuse then?” the Scot sneers, knocking his knee into the other man’s under the table. “Dinnae see ye waitin’ for her fuckin’ hand like a gentleman—apologies, hen.”

“Christ,” John sighs, leaning back in his chair and staring up at the ceiling.

Simon stays silent at the other end of the table, but the whole table jumps when he aims a kick at the Scott’s leg. He hisses and blurts out a word in a language you’ve never heard before, the word unmistakably vitriolic. He clutches at his shin and shoots a nasty look at Simon, though he doesn’t make a move to retaliate.

“Name’s Kyle. Kyle Garrick,” the other introduces himself, and you finally reach across the table to offer your hand. His hand is warm against yours when he takes it, dark skin burnished in the candlelight. There’s something inviting about him; something about his eyes, so dark that you almost fall into them. Thick lips curl up into a smile. “And this here is Soap.”

You frown. “Soap?”

The man in question runs a hand down his front, emphasizing the cut of his shirt and the way it clings to the muscle of his chest. “‘Cause of how well I clean up.”

Simon barks out a laugh at that. The sound comes so sudden and sharp that it startles you. “You got it ‘cause your mum had to wash out your mouth with soap.”

It’s the most you’ve ever heard out of him and you can only stare wide-eyed at the lot of them as they dissolve into bickering and squabbling after that. It’s almost a relief to head back into the kitchen to finish cooking.

Dinner is a similar messy affair, punctuated by the sound of Soap practically gnawing the meat off the bone. He only apologizes when John barks at him for making a mess, more food on the floor around him than on his plate, but his table manners don’t last very long. John doesn’t seem so much embarrassed on their behalf as annoyed, but it’s an annoyance that comes with an aftertaste of warmth. You can tell without asking that they’ve known each other for years.

There’s room enough in you for food and envy. Back home you had friends. Never close friends, but acquaintances at least. Maids you could recognize by face. Small talk while ascending single-file up the servants’ staircase. Perhaps little more than that. You’d never been particularly close to any of them, but how could you? You worked from morning ‘till night, up and down the stairs, moving in the shadows. Never making too much noise lest your employers take notice of you.

Like he did.

You shake it off. That’s no matter now. You’re hundreds of miles away and living under a new name. A married woman, to the county sheriff no less. It only sometimes hurts your heart to think of how lonely you’d been.

When they leave, you stand at the window and watch as they disappear into the black of the night, Simon at the front of the pack, his torchlight leading the way. The sound of horse hooves beating against the dirt recedes the farther they get.

His hands warm your shoulders. You don’t know how long he’s been there, standing behind you while you stared out the window after the boys. All you know is that his hands are warm, and the kiss he presses to the back of your head makes you arch back into him, unconsciously gravitating closer to him. Needing to be near.

In bed, you curl your fingers against his chest. On a rough exhale, you wake. You dream still of something terrible that happens somewhere else, in another city, in an old life. His heartbeat lulls you back to sleep.

John takes you to the local seamstress to have you fitted for a pair of pants and suddenly you’re out of excuses. They fit you comfortably, like a second skin, and you find yourself pulling at the legs at your final fitting as if to stretch out the material. The seamstress nearly jabs you with a pin and glares up at you until you stop fidgeting.

You come to terms with it when he brings you into the stables and makes you fetch the saddle from where it rests on its stand. It’s heavier than you expected. You stumble back over to where John now has Buttercup standing in the middle of the stable, holding her by the lead fixed to her bridle.

“I don’t know if—” you start, trepidation climbing up your chest until it grips you by the throat. For as many times as you’ve ridden her, you’ve never done it alone.

John fixes her lead to a post and walks over to you, taking the saddle from your hands and letting it drop to the ground. He cups your face in both hands to tilt your head up. “Hey, honey. We’re not doing much of anything today, alright? Just a walk around the paddock so you get used to sitting on Buttercup on your own. I’m not gonna smack her ass and send you down the trail at full tilt..”

That gets a laugh out of you. “You promise?”

He smiles. “Promise, darlin’.”

And he keeps it. The only thing you do that day is learn how to tack a horse and how to properly mount and dismount her. The latter part of the lesson is devoted to you trying to find your balance while John leads the two of you around the pen at a leisurely pace. He calms you down when he sees you grow too stiff, stopping to coo and rub your thigh until you gradually relax. It’s heartwarming until Buttercup begins to tense up too for a reason unbeknownst to you and you watch in righteous fury as John calms her down the same way.

John gets you a hat to keep the sun from beating down on you, but there’s little he can do about the soreness between your thighs and the stiffness in your legs the next day. All you can do is hiss and moan in pain, hobbling around the house until he forces you down into a chair and hikes up your dress in order to apply an arnica salve to your inner thighs.

It’s a relief and an affront at the same time. The duality of man. The salve soothes much of the ache, but you twitch nervously around John for the rest of the day, the memory of him pinning you to the chair and forcibly spreading your thighs haunting you. The lingering ache in your core is just the salt in the wound.

It rains another day. A light drizzle while the sun is still out.

Every day you sit and you think, will it be today? And then the wash basins are emptied out in the field, the horses are taken out to the paddock, you pin the laundry up on the line to dry, and John presses a farewell kiss to your forehead when he leaves you with Kate and nothing happens. Every inch of you waits for more, anticipates more. Throbs when he leaves you wanting, only a chaste kiss and a squeeze around your waist before he’s off.

You can feel it coming to a head. An itch you can’t shake.

That day comes with another ache you can’t shake.

“Please,” you beg, clasping your hands in front of you. “One day of rest. That’s all I’m asking. I can’t do this anymore, John.”

John snaps the lead in his hands. “Let’s get a move on. We’re burning daylight.”

You hang your head low on the march over to the stables, John taking up the rear like he expects you to bolt. An executioner’s walk. The thought of escape has never seemed further away—not even because of its feasibility, but because all you want to do is lie down and rest.

“You can quit your moping,” he says as you tack up Buttercup, a pout on your lips. “Got something special for you today.”

That makes you perk up, regardless of the fact that he doesn’t specify what that is. Anticipation mounts in you when he helps you up onto Buttercup and then climbs up behind you himself. He steers her away from the paddock and towards the trail leading into the woods, the sun at its zenith now, illuminating everything as far as the eye can see.

You’ve ridden this trail before. A week ago, with John at your back as he is now. Through the fields and over the hills until the trees start to number in the tens and then the hundreds, no clear delineation between plain and forest. Simply there and then everywhere.

By now, after hours of sun beating down on the path, the trail is mostly dry, yesterday’s rain long since having sunk into the earth. You think it’d still be a tough hike on foot, but on horseback you cover acres of land at a brisk pace, Buttercup hardly breaking a sweat. You cross paths with a small group traveling by horse and wagon, but John breaks off from the path not too long after that, steering Buttercup deeper into the wilderness, where the only gullies are the ones carved out by years and years of rainfall.

You only see it when the land begins to dip and you’re forced to hold onto the horn and tighten your thighs around the fenders to keep steady. At the bottom of a hill, a small stream opens up into a larger river, narrowing out at the other end where the land rises again and the water can only trickle over the pebbly riverbed. On the other side, a rocky outcropping cuts the stream off from view.

“Is this where you used to come to bathe?” you ask, recalling an earlier conversation.

John sighs. “Thought I’d take you for a swim as a treat, but if you’d rather just tease me—”

“Well now, let’s not be hasty,” you say, already trying to dismount on your own, eyes glued on the stream glimmering in the sunlight. John chuckles, keeping you pressed to him until he guides Buttercup under a tree for shade and dismounts first, helping you down after him.

All you want to do is wade in the stream up to your ankles, so that’s what you do. Boots kicked off, Buttercup relaxing in the shade of a tree, John standing by the water’s edge with his hands on his hips and watching you tiptoe over the smooth rocks below. You roll up your pant legs, but eventually you feel the ends grow damp as you venture farther out. At its deepest, you would probably sink up to your waist.

“Don’t you want to swim?” John asks from somewhere behind you.

You splash around a bit, kicking your feet through the water. “Hard to do that with clothes—”

When you turn back around to face him, your eyes dart down momentarily at the sight of skin before you squeak and whirl back around, sending up an arc of water. Twice now you’ve seen him naked.

“You’ve no clothes on,” you state, bluntly enough that it almost sounds stupid.

You hear the water splash and ripple when he takes his first step in. “Right—you better think about doing the same if you don’t want to ride home soaking wet.”

“I was perfectly fine just getting my feet wet,” you say indignantly.

“We came out here to swim, not get your feet wet,” John laughs. You stiffen when his hand comes down on your shoulder, conscious of the fact that your husband is standing right behind you, entirely divested of his clothes. “So best get to steppin’.”

“You can’t make me.”

“Oh, honey,” he says pityingly. “Yes, I can.”

You squeeze your eyes shut as you make your way back to shore, careful not to allow yourself a glimpse of him. Your boots are stacked beneath the shade of another tree, John’s clothes folded neatly beside them. You strip slowly, attentive to the world around you; though unlikely, it’s not impossible that someone might wander by. Your only consolation is that John is still within sight, though you keep your back to him because in recent days, you’ve developed a hunger for him that even now makes your stomach hurt.

Though the air is warm, you shiver. When you turn around with your arms crossed over your breasts to hide them from sight, you find John wading in the river up to his waist. You’ve seen him like this once before, the hearty body of a man in his prime. Sturdy and strong. The hair on his chest is darker than that on his head, wet too from the dip he must have taken when your back was turned. His hair is slicked back too, a wet hand combing it back.

“Come on, darlin’,” he calls, beckoning you forward with his hand.

The water is a cold shock when you step in past your ankles. Ice cold tendrils wrap up your legs, sucking the warmth from you.

You suck in a soft breath when he pulls you into his arms and heaves you up, big hands gripping under your thighs. Your breasts press against the wet skin of his chest, nipples already pebbled. The river is deeper than you assumed; John pulls you deeper in until it pools around your waist and then your chest. Cold enough that you shiver until John dips his head down and the kiss he presses to your lips melts you from the inside out.

You can’t escape the intimacy of water-slick skin. When John drags you up his chest, your nipples brush over his and the shudder that passes through you is violent, toe-curling. You know that he can feel the heat of your core even underwater. With your legs wound around his waist, every inch of you is plastered to his front. Even your fingers play with the ends of his hair, arms draped over his shoulders. You can’t look away.

“C’mon,” he murmurs, breath hot on your face. “Eyes on me.”

As if you could look anywhere else.

He reaches down under the water to readjust himself and you gasp when his shaft is suddenly right there, trapped between his belly and your heat. It’s the closest you’ve ever gotten to coitus, his glans nestled between your folds. You’d only have to shift slightly for him to slip right in. The thought makes your breath quicken.

He doesn’t make a move to take you though, even knowing that he could. How easy it would be. How it’s due to him. Your husband that’s waited a fortnight to take you as his own. John kisses you until each slick pass of his lips grows sloppier, clumsier—his lips barely parting from yours before they’re on you again, rendering you a creature of base needs.

But his hands don’t shift from your backside where he holds you in place. His fingers dig into the flesh hard enough to bruise, but they don’t move to part your folds to make room for his manhood. You expect him to—practically yearn for it and squeeze him around the neck all the harder when he subverts your expectations, doing no more than letting you grind your heat against the base of his shaft.

“John—John, please,” you beg, mindless for what. You don’t know what you’re asking for.

“What d’ya need, darlin’?” he asks into your mouth, stealing your answer with another kiss.

You fall under the swell of another wave. When the root of his cock glides over your clit, your core clenches on nothing, a sob half-bitten off in your mouth, ripped from your chest.

It doesn’t matter how close to him you get—he gives you nothing. The heat could very well burn you from the inside out. Cold water caresses your skin as it flows past, but the center of you runs so hot that you hardly notice it.

When he hikes you higher up against his chest, you clench your fingers in his hair, whining when he takes your nipple into his mouth. Your gasp comes out sharp and hurt when the coarse bristles of his beard rub rough against your breast. He sucks at your breast tender at first, gentle, eyes half-lidded like his mind has gone somewhere else, but there’s a glint in his eye that grows wild and dark, that turns him rough. You don’t know what to do except shake and let him use you how he wants.

Desperation nips at your heels, urging you up the length of him. If you had more nerve, you’d reach down and grasp him under the water, notch the head of his member against your sex and sink right down on him. You need him like you've never needed anything before. Every part of you aflame, searing hot under the sun at its highest point; right overhead, right on top of you.

His teeth sink delicately into your areola, tongue lapping over your nipple to soothe the hurt, and suddenly, you break.

“Please—” you gasp, wrenching his mouth away from your breast and whimpering when he resists at first, glaring up at you like he might bite. “Please, John—I can’t take it. I need you.”

His eyes darken, the pupil swallowing everything up. “Need me where, wife? Here?”

A hand dips between your thighs, pointer finger gliding over your sex, plump with blood. So tender that your mouth hangs open on a whine when he touches you.

“Y-yes,” you whimper, gaze swimming.

John’s breath comes out in a harsh, ragged pant. Completely undone in a way you’ve never seen before. “Get out, darlin’. I’m taking you home. Gonna give you what you need.”

#ceil writing #cod mw2 #cod x reader #price/reader #john price/reader #price x reader #price x you #john price x reader #john price

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dreaming-medium · 7 months

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Stray Kids Kinktober Day 5

Stray Kids Kinktober Masterlist

Cockwarming - Felix

Word Count: 5.7k

Summary: End of the quarter reports are due and somehow one of the calculations got messed up; it’s nothing you can’t do by hand. And luckily you have a preppy secretary who will stop at nothing to make sure you’re relaxed.

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“Felix, can you bring in my incoming forms, please?” you say into the intercom on your desk.

“Right away, ma’am.” His deep voice answers you immediately through the speaker.

Leaning back in your large office chair, you cross one leg over the other and look out of the floor to ceiling windows that line the wall behind your desk.

Your arms cross over your chest and your bottom lip pulls between your teeth in deep thought.

Various different items on your to-do list for the day fly through your mind as you stare out over the Seoul skyline.

Partnership approvals, tax forms, time sheets.

Being the CFO for a large cooperation like this one was never easy. There was never a single day in the office that you weren’t busy. When you think about it, you can’t even remember the last time you took a vacation day.

Once you get this high in the corporate ladder, it’s supposed to get easier, that’s what you thought. It’s what you were told your entire life. But, now that you’re here, you see that it’s the exact opposite.

Every single day is filled to the brim with meetings, phone calls, and business lunches. It’s all chock full of fake smiles and forced laughter.

You worked your ass off to get to where you were now, and nothing was ever going to change that. Sleep be damned..

A gentle knock sounded through the room.

“Come in,” you call out, turning your chair to face the door.

The door opens and Felix walks in with a large stack of papers in his hands. His crisp white dress shirt is tucked into his navy blue dress pants, a matching tie around his neck. A pair of thick black glasses sat perched on his nose, face framed by long, perfectly kempt, blond hair.

“Your inbox, ma’am,” he says warmly, walking closer to your desk.

“Thank you, Felix.” You motion down to the empty desk in front of you. “You can just place them anywhere.”

He nods and gently places them on an empty spot on the wood.

“Do I have any more meetings for the day?” you ask him, flipping through the papers.

“No, ma’am.”

You run one hand through your hair tiredly. “Good, good.” A beat. “What time is my first meeting tomorrow?”

Felix reaches into his pocket and pulls out his phone. He taps on the screen a few times before speaking up. “Ten o’clock.”

“Really? That’s the best news I’ve gotten all day.”

“Your 8:30 was rescheduled to the afternoon.”

“Now that makes sense.”

Your eyes tiredly flick over to the time on your desktop. “Jesus, Felix. Weren’t you supposed to leave an hour ago?”

He shifts his weight on his feet. “Yes, but I don’t leave until you do.”

“I told you that you don’t need to do that.”

“It’s just in case you need me, you know?” A soft blush covers his cheeks, but you pay no mind to it.

“You’re putting these hours on your timesheet, right?”

“Yes.”

“Good.” You sigh again. “Tomorrow is the day, isn’t it?”

“If you’re referring to the quarterly rebalance, then yes, it is.”

At the end of every quarter, you were in charge of verifying each analyst’s calculations and reading their predictions for the next one before presenting them to the board of directors.

Every single time you end up staying at the office until the wee hours of the morning.

Last quarter, you didn’t leave the office until two in the morning. And, like every quarter, Felix stayed with you.

“Well, then,” You put the forms back down on your desk and push your chair away to stand up. “I’m not going to bother with these tonight when I’ll be here until sunrise on Saturday.”

“Should I have your car brought around?”

“If you could, please.”

“Right away, ma’am.”

Felix briskly leaves the room and you roll your head around your sore neck.

“Fuck quarterly rebalances.”

----------------------------------------

Your hand runs over your face for the millionth time in the last four hours. The numbers are starting to blend together at this point.

The analyses started coming in around 11 AM and since then you just haven’t stopped.

Line chart after line chart, spreadsheet after spreadsheet, everything looks the same now.

You’ve been hung up on one single data set. There’s a random spike in it for no reason at all. Why is there a spike in this calculation?

You cannot move on to the rest of the data until you get over this spike.

Blindly, you reach over to the phone on your desk and press the intercom button. “Felix,” you say after the beep.

“Yes, ma’am?”

“Can you please patch me through to Seo Changbin? There’s no way this spike is correct.”

The sound of typing on a keyboard echoes over the line.

“Seo Changbin clocked out three hours ago, ma’am. Would you like me to ring his personal phone?”

“Three hours?” you ask incredulously and look down at the time. “Holy shit.” you murmur under your breath.

8:00 PM. It’s 8:00 PM.

“Ma’am?” Felix grabs your attention after a second of waiting.

You throw your glasses down onto the desk and pinch the bridge of your nose in frustration. A headache has been resting behind your eyes all day.

“No,” you say after a few moments. “No, that won’t be necessary. I’ll just run the numbers myself.”

“Is there anything else I can help you with for now, ma’am?”

You look around the room, the sun is setting over the skyline. A sigh leaves your chest.

It’s hard to believe you were working for nine straight hours on this. When was the last time you looked up?

“Have you eaten yet, Felix?” you ask, keeping your eyes outside.

“No, ma’am.”

“Order whatever you want, make it double. Put it on the corporate card.”

Felix’s deep laugh comes through the intercom. “Right away, ma’am.”

“Thank you, Felix.”

“My pleasure, ma’am.”

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Two plus two is four, right? Yes, of course it is. Two plus two has always been four. They wouldn’t just change that suddenly, right?

But you’re so delirious that you still punch it in your calculator.

“Two plus two...” When the calculator says four, you stare at it. “To be honest, I was expecting something else with how tonight is going.”

Laughing at your own joke, you continue to re-input the numbers into the spreadsheet on your desktop.

A knock at your door pulls your attention.

“Come in!” you call out without looking up.

The door clicks open. “Delivery!” Felix’s cheery voice calls into your office.

You look up at your secretary with weary eyes. His mouth pulls into a sympathetic smile.

“That bad, huh?”

“You have no idea.” you groan and lean back in your chair. Your muscles scream from the movement and you grunt. “I just verified two plus two on the calculator.”

“Still four?”

“Surprisingly.”

“I think it’s time for a break, then.”

Peeking at the clock, it says it’s around 9:00 PM now.

With an apologetic smile, you look up at Felix. His white collared shirt is undone at the top, no tie around his neck. A plain pair of tight black slacks hugging his legs. He’s looking at you with nothing but pity in his eyes.

“I’m so sorry, Felix,” you say while taking the takeout container from him. He just laughs.

“Don’t apologize, it’s all part of the job.” He shifts in place for a moment and turns and looks at the door.

“Where’s your food?”

“Oh, at my desk.”

“Why don’t you bring it in here? I’d love the company. Wayne can only do so much for my sanity.” You point at the house plant on your windowsill.

A little nametag on the front of the pot says ‘Wayne’ in cursive.

Felix’s eyes widen and his cheeks turn a bit pink. “Oh! Yeah! I’ll um… I’ll go grab it and be right back.”

You follow his lithe body as he rushes out of your office with one eyebrow raised.

Strange.

True, this was the first time you invited him to eat in your office with you. But it’s not like you ever had the opportunity to do so.

Typically, you ate in your office by yourself while still working. Truth be told, you had no idea when Felix’s lunch break was. He was always available when you needed him. Did he work through his lunch too?

Your secretary re-enters your office slightly out of breath.

“By the way,” he pants. “I had forgotten to order us drinks, so I got this out of the vending machine for you.”

He comes up to your desk holding out your favorite drink.

“Ugh, what would I do without you?” You smile and take the drink. “Pull a chair closer, you can eat on my desk too. It’ll get all over you if you try to balance it like that on your lap.”

Eagerly, he places his food on your desk and scoots forward. The redness in his cheeks deepened.

Soft lo-fi music is coming through your computer and filling the silence in the air. You crack open the takeout container and dig in.

It’s a stir fry. And stir fry has never looked this good in your life.

“This is so good,” you basically moan after taking your first bite.

“O-Oh, yeah? I’m glad you like it,” Felix stutters back and takes his own bite.

“It’s definitely much needed after today.” You whine and look back at your desktop.

“What’s going on with the numbers?”

“Based on what Changbin gave me, it says our internal earnings spiked massively this quarter. And yes, while this is great, it’s extremely abnormal. If this is true, I need to verify it before I can present it; otherwise, I’ll look like a fool.”

Felix listens intently to your explanation. “I don’t think you could ever look like a fool, ma’am.”

“Thank you, Felix.” You smile at him. He grins back and suddenly it’s like the sun is back up. His pearly white teeth shine in the office light.

“You have such a pretty smile,” you compliment him. “I don’t think I ever told you that.”

Felix squirms in his seat and looks down bashfully. The blush spreads all over his face. One of his hands comes up and rubs the back of his neck.

“Ah, thank you, ma’am. I appreciate that.”

Chuckling softly, you turn back to your calculations.

The gentle, twinkling sounds of lo-fi beats do nothing to help calm the swirling confusion in your head.

Minutes pass and you’re staring at the same algorithm.

Your shoulders are slowly coming towards your ears with all the tension in your body. When you lean forward to use your keyboard, a burning pain runs through your back.

“Fuck.” Your hand flies up to grab where your shoulder meets your neck to massage it and roll your head around.

“Everything alright?” Felix asks.

“Yeah, I just get so stiff sitting at my desk while I work on the end of quarter stuff. Feels like my shoulders are on fire.”

No amount of massaging your own shoulders seems to be working, though.

Felix looks down at his food for a moment, then back up to you. His eyes shift away from you nervously.

“Before this job, I had gone to massage school for a few months. Would you like me to see if I can work those kinks out?”

Normally, you would say no. It would be so wildly inappropriate to have your secretary massage your shoulders while you work. Imagine if someone decided to walk in?

But now? When no one else is here and there’s no end in sight with these analyses?

“Are you sure you don’t mind?” you ask, unsure.

He seems to perk up a bit. “Not at all!”

Another moment passes while you weigh it in your mind, your lip pulls between your teeth before looking at him a bit sheepishly. “If you don’t mind…”

Felix is up on his feet, food immediately forgotten. It almost startles you how fast he’s up and around the back of your chair.

You had shucked off your blazer a few hours ago. Just your button up on, the top few buttons undone and sleeves rolled up to your elbows.

Felix stands behind you for a moment, his hands hovering over your shoulders. “Do you have any lotion?”

“Yes, actually.” Reaching down into your desk drawer, you pulled out an herbal lotion that your one friend had gotten you as a gift.

“‘Stress Relief’, huh?” Felix teases when you set it on the desk.

“A friend thought it would make a great gag gift with everything going on,” you laugh to yourself and stare back at your computer. “She didn’t realize how appropriate it was.”

Once more, Felix moves his hands around your back, his lithe fingers sweeping your hair off the back of your neck. Instead of keeping it down, you lean forward and grab a long pencil out of the cup and twirl it around your hair to then pin it up.

It’s a trick you learned back in college.

Felix watches behind you silently, his breath hitches slightly when he sees your hair settle all pinned up. Strands fall out of the bundle and frame your face and neck a bit.

It’s the most perfect messy hairstyle he’s ever seen.

Felix’s jaw clenches and he gulps, pulling himself together.

“Do you mind if I, ah– lower the back of your shirt a bit?”

“Yeah, here.” You’re already back in word mode; after looking at the sheer number of raw data littering the spreadsheet on your desktop, you were no longer focused on your secretary.

You unbutton more of the buttons and let your shirt slide off your shoulders a bit. Your cleavage was still covered– mostly.

Felix’s brain whites out for a split second and he has to physically force his brain to reboot. There’s a slight twitch in his pants at the sight of your naked shoulders. You’re always in those high-collared shirts, blazers, sweaters, so ungodly professional.

But your clothes are always so skin tight. Or you’ll wear a blouse like this one and a tiny little pencil skirt.

Felix leans down and pumps some lotion on his hands, rubbing it together to warm it up before setting his hands on your wonderfully smooth skin. It takes every fiber of his being not to let out a moan at the feeling.

His breathing picks up as he digs his thumbs into your muscles.

Immediately, you groan at the feeling. “God, that already feels so good, Felix.”

His name, you said his name, moaning nonetheless.

He can only make a noise of acknowledgement while he continues to work out the high strung muscles in your neck and shoulders.

Meanwhile, your brain is completely focused on your calculations. It’s so much easier to focus on everything when it doesn’t feel like your back is on fire.

Felix’s hands are absolutely magical. Everywhere he rubs loosens up underneath his strong, yet gentle, grip. He kneads right at the base of your neck and every knot slowly releases.

Small moans slip past your lips without realizing it.

And just because you don’t realize you’re moaning does not mean that your secretary hasn’t. Every single sound that comes out of your mouth goes straight to his dick. His slacks have tightened significantly, a tent pitching higher and higher each second.

He scolds himself internally. He knows he needs to pull it together, you’re his boss. You sign his paychecks. But fuck, knowing that you’re making those noises because of just his fingers is messing with his brain, he couldn’t stop even if he wanted to.

Felix runs over a particularly tight knot and you jump with a yelp.

“Sorry! Sorry!” he apologizes profusely, keeping his hands on your shoulders.

“It’s okay,” you soothe his worry. “God, I already feel better. It felt like someone was stabbing flaming daggers into my shoulders.”

Your voice sounds somewhere else. Even though Felix has been your secretary for almost two years now, you’ve never spoken this casually with him. You were always professional, always so put together.

The work in front of you has you so consumed that you don’t realize how much your tongue is slipping.

It’s been like this the entire night. You’re too distracted to care.

“I can’t believe you chose to pursue this instead of continuing with massage school.” you continue.

“Well, I had originally gotten this job to pay for massage school. Then, when I got this position, I realized it paid more than being a masseuse ever would.”

You move your head around your shoulders, “Still.” you write down a string of numbers, click around on your keyboard, punch a formula into the calculator, then write something else down. “God, your fingers are fucking magical.”

Hearing you curse sent a lightning bolt down his back and Felix’s head is shot into the clouds. And you were complimenting him!

“I can’t imagine what else those fingers can do.”

Now he knows he’s dreaming. Did you really just say that? Did he hallucinate it? His fingers pause on your muscles.

Your own words must have sunken into your brain; your entire body goes rigid and you gasp, one hand flying over your mouth. Your heart drops to your stomach.

“Oh my god, Felix.” you say quietly, your tone is horrified. “Felix, I am so sorry, please. Oh, god.”

You can’t even turn around to look at him. It’s like ice water was injected to your veins. How could you have said that? He’s going to report you to HR! Who wouldn’t? You quite literally just harassed him in the workplace.

“I have no idea why I said that.” you sputter.

Say goodbye to everything you worked for. You threw it out the window by accidentally letting your tongue slip while he massaged your bare shoulders.

While you were apologizing profusely, you didn't feel him lean down until you heard his baritone voice was right next to your ear.

“I could show you.”

Like a zipper, pleasure shoots right up your spine. It makes you sit up straighter in your desk chair. Your mouth is suddenly so dry.

“W-What?” you stutter out, still looking down at your desk.

Felix is so close behind you that you can smell his cologne wrapping around your nose. It’s so fresh. It has a cotton-like musky smell to it. You’ve always caught whiffs of it when he came breezing through your office.

So many times you’ve found yourself leaning into the smell, and now here you have it so close to you.

“I could show you what these fingers can do, ma’am.” he purrs in your ear. Goosebumps raise all along the back of your neck, the hairs stand on end and a shiver creeps up on you.

His warm, slippery hands slide from your shoulders down your bare arms to grip them for a second before sliding back up. Felix reapers the motion a few times, letting his hot breath fan over your exposed skin.

“But,” the gravel of his voice makes your insides flutter. “You need to finish these calculations, ma’am.”

You hum in response, allowing your eyes to flutter closed and you lean back into his touch.

Felix chuckles under his breath. “I have an idea.”

----------------------------------------

Oh, it was a sinful fucking idea. Did he really think you were going to get any work done like this?

Felix had sat down on your desk chair, the tent in his pants so painfully obvious. At the same time, you can’t deny the wetness in your panties. It was getting worse and worse during that massage.

It’s only natural.

He grabs your hips and pulls your body towards him, his face level with your lower stomach. He looks directly up at you, his fingers curling into the fabric of your pencil skirt.

Those deep brown eyes staring up at you with a lustful haze covering them. Every freckle was highlighted on his face due to the blush covering his skin.

You bring one of your hands up to his face and softly caress his cheek, letting your fingertips dance over his skin. Felix leans into your touch; he turns his head and presses a kiss to your palm.

“This is crazy,” you whisper down to him.

“The secretary sleeping with the boss is not a new concept, ma’am.”

You roll your eyes. “Yes, but it’s usually the other way around.”

One of your knees comes up and rests on the chair right in front of his crotch. Felix bites his lip and his eyes squint shut for a moment.

His hips stutter, you can tell he’s trying not to roll them to rub against your bare skin.

Your head cocks to the side and you smirk. “Come on then, I need you to be fully hard if I’m going to sit on your cock.”

One of the deepest moans you’ve ever heard pulls from deep within his chest. Felix’s head tilts back and his grip on your hips tightens. In a fluid motion, he gyrates his hips and you feel his cock press right against your leg.

A devious smile crosses your face, you move your hand down to grip his face tightly to bring his clouded gaze back to you.

“Come on then, Felix. You can do better than that.”

He whines and closes his eyes again, his hips stuttering and moving faster, harder. He parts his lips to begin panting. Each breath is hot and heavy, you can barely hear your music over it. The heat from his exhales goes right through your shirt.

Further and further, he descends into a subspace.

“Good boy,” you praise and it goes straight to his head.

Felix gulps and moves his hands around to grip your ass a bit.

In a quick movement, you rip your leg away from his hips.

Felix cries out and his eyes fly open to look at you with astonishment.

“Did I say you could touch me like that?” you hiss down at him.

“No, ma’am.”

Your head cocks to the side and you stare for a few seconds. “I need to get back to work already. Take your cock out.”

His eyes widen and he hesitates, not used to hearing such filth tumble from your lips. You tighten your grip on his face.

“I’m waiting, Felix.”

He’s then fumbling with his pants trying to fulfill your wishes. He’s practically scrambling. Why isn’t the zipper fucking working? Come on, come on.

Meanwhile, you drop his face and pull your skirt up around your waist, revealing your black lace thong. While still fumbling with his own pants, Felix moans, staring at the beautiful sight in front of him. It sounds like it’s punched out of him.

Teasingly, you hook your thumbs around the elastic band and drag it down your legs slowly.

Another whine comes out from Felix’s throat. His tongue practically falls out of his mouth at the sight of your pussy, acting like a starved dog.

“Please,” he pants, not able to tear his eyes away from it. “Just a taste. Just one. Please, ma’am, please.”

Smirking, you lightly slap his cheek twice. “You get three licks, honey.”

He can’t get his mouth on you fast enough. Felix wraps his lips around your glistening folds and runs his tongue up through your juices, collecting whatever he could on his tongue.

You both moan at the same time at the sensation.

“One…” you moan out.

Another lick pulls another moan. “Two!”

After the third lick, he swirls his tongue around your clit, making your knees feel weak. “Fuck! Three!”

You roughly grab his hair and yank his mouth away from you. His cheeks are flushed and his eyes half lidded. It looks like you took a puppy away from its bowl.

His full lips glisten with your arousal.

“Sit back on the chair, hands to yourself.”

Felix reluctantly leans back in your chair, his cock at full mast and dripping with precum. His head is flushed red. He is painfully hard.

He rests both of his hands on the arm rests of the chair and keeps his lustful eyes on you.

A smirk pulls at your lips as you kick your panties off, heels staying on.

You turn around and grab Felix’s cock tightly. His hands tighten around the armrests with a gasp.

“Remember what I said, Felix. No touching.”

“Yes,” he pants.

“Say it, then.” you demand, hovering your pussy over his cock. You both can feel the heat of each other radiating off.

“No touchinggg—!” While he was talking you dropped down onto his length.

Both of you moan out loud, your head kicks back at the delicious stretch. God, it’s been too fucking long since you’ve gotten laid. This job takes everything from you.

You roll your hips a few times, getting adjusted. With each movement, Felix lets out a noise: a whine, a grunt, a moan, a whimper, everything in between. He’s singing a chorus of pleasure in your ear.

“We have to get a little closer to the desk, Felix.”

It takes every ounce of strength, but your voice comes out even and Felix clocks that it’s your professional voice. You feel his cock twitch inside you.

Slowly, he rolls the chair towards the desk and you immediately return to your work. You snap back to it so fast it makes Felix whimper again.

Your heat is wrapped around him in the fucking best way. There’s no way he’s alive right now. For months he’s touched himself thinking about what you looked like underneath all those professional clothes.

You’re always so uptight, what if you just let loose for once? What would it be like?

Your pussy clenched down on him and Felix whines, throwing his head back. Oh, this was going to be torture.

Just until you finish verifying the calculation, that’s what you said. As soon as you verify the numbers, then you would let him have you.

“You just need to behave.” You told him.

How is he supposed to behave when you’re so fucking tight and wet around him? He can feel each breath you take.

Besides the fact that you’re surrounding his cock, your naked thighs are right there on top of his. He wants to grab them so hard it’ll leave his fingerprints in your skin, maybe it’ll bruise in the shape of his handprint.

Felix can’t help his hips bucking at the thought.

You clench again and moan. “Felix,” you warn.

“S-Sorry.”

“Sorry, what?”

“Sorry, ma’am!”

Oh, you love that. You absolutely throb around him. Huh.

The soft hairs on the back of your neck tickle against his nose, he can still smell the lotion that he rubbed into your shoulders.

Felix is grabbing the armrests so tight his knuckles are turning white. His nails dig into the leather painfully.

He licks his lips nervously and he gets another taste of your arousal that was still on his skin. It makes his eyes roll back.

You adjust on his lap. The movement of your heat around him makes his head spin. The drag of your hot, soaking wet walls over his length is the most consuming feeling he’s ever felt.

“Fuck,” he murmurs under his breath.

“Stop moving.”

A small sheen of sweat breaks out on his forehead.

Why no touching? Why couldn’t he snake his hand around and up your blouse? He could cup your tit and pinch and pull your nipples until you’re clenching around him so tight that he could scream. He could lick all the way up your neck and pull your earlobe into his mouth while he listens to you panting his name.

Why can’t he touch you? God, he just wants to touch you.

Here he was, living out his wildest wet dream, and he couldn't feel your soft, supple skin underneath his fingers.

Why can’t he turn your head and consume your lips with his own? Shove his tongue down your throat and suck on yours like it’s a piece of candy.

He should’ve taken his pants off. This way he would’ve been able to feel your juices drip down and soak his thighs. You’re so fucking wet he thinks he might die.

Felix’s eyes travel to the desk. He could absolutely bend you over the top. He could pull your hair and make you scream. He could make you forget all about–

“Aha!” When you scream, he jumps in surprise. His hips buck up and your pussy clenches around him. You both moan.

“Did you get it?” he pants out. His voice sounds so much weaker than he wanted it to; he sounds like he just ran two miles.

“Yes! He used net earnings instead of gross in one formula! Oh I am going to kill him.”

Thank the fucking lord. You figured it out. You did it, can he please please please–

Felix must’ve started thrusting up into you before he could even register the movements. His mind is so cloudly with lust that he can barely think straight.

“Easy, Felix.” you whine out through moans. He can just tell you didn’t want him to stop either. “Let me just finalize the chart and then–”

Felix cries out and then slumps his head forward to rest between your shoulder blades. “Ma’am, please, I’ve been so good for you, haven’t I? Haven’t I been such a good boy for you, ma’am?”

You hum and roll your hips ever so slightly. Just this slight amount of movement drives Felix insane. He whimpers loudly and his legs begin to shake underneath you.

“You have been a good boy, Felix. Why don’t I give you a reward?”

“Please.”

“Why don’t you let those pretty little hands roam until I’m done?”

“Thank you!” he cries out with a hoarse voice.

Immediately, his hands fly to your thighs and he grips the flesh tightly. His nails dig into your skin and you cry out under your breath, your walls clamping down on him tightly.

“Can I use my mouth, ma’am? Please please please please–”

“Yesss…” you hissed at him.

Felix attaches his lips to your neck and begins to suck on the soft skin while his hands wander up your body.

One hand goes right under your shirt and pulls your bra down. Those magic fingers pinch your nipple.

Every reaction your body has envelopes him in the most amazing way. He can feel everything your body likes. He can feel how you like when he rubs around your nipple rather than pinching it. He can feel how much you love when he uses his thumb to play with your tit while his mouth bites at your neck and hit other hand teases your soaking wet folds.

“Felix…” you warn. It’s all empty, though. Your typing has completely stopped, work has been forgotten.

“Fuck, you feel so fucking good, ma’am.” He moans when you tighten. “Let me make you feel good, ma’am. Let me be such a good secretary.”

With the gentlest of touches, Felix plays with your clit. Just with that soft touch, your body spasms around him.

“I can make your body sing, ma’am. Let me be of service to you.”

Another gentle pinch of your nipple. It’s going straight to his head how he can feel how much you’re fighting him.

“Don’t you want to cum around my cock, ma’am?”

You break. “Please.” you whine out.

It’s enough for him.

Both of his arms tighten around your body, his feet plant firmly on the floor and he begins fucking up into you like his fucking life depends on it.

He turns into something of a fucking animal with how he’s rutting his cock into your sopping wet heat. He thrusts so hard and so fast, you think he might go through you.

His teeth bare for a moment from the exertion, but he bites down where your shoulder meets your neck.

Your head throws back onto his shoulder. Felix grabs your entire tit to anchor his hold, his thumb brushing over the nipple over and over, each one sends a ripple of pleasure through you.

His other hand rubs harder at your clit, you clamp even tighter over him. Both of you grunt and groan. There is no silence in your office; is the music even playing anymore?

You turn your head to look at him. “Kiss me, Felix.”

He captures your lips without a second thought. It all feels so fucking deliciously good. He sucks on your tongue just like he always wanted to.

Your mouths glide over one another sloppily, spit getting everywhere on your mouths.

With each thrust, each flick, each rub, your orgasm gets closer and closer.

Felix shifts his hips a bit and hits your g-spot so hard you cry out into his mouth, he swallows the noise.

“You’re so fucking tight, ma’am. I can feel you clenching so hard. You’re close, aren’t you?”

All you’re able to do is nod. He’s stimulating you so much that you can’t find your voice.

“Fuck!” he cries out, “Fuck fuck, give it to me, please. Please cum for me, ma’am.” His voice is so low, it's so hoarse from arousal.

A particularly hard thrust launches you over the edge, your orgasm seizes every inch of your body. Felix keeps going, fucking you right through your orgasm.

Deep, guttural moans come from his chest as your body begins to shake in overstimulation. His thrusts grow sloppy and uncoordinated as he gets closer to his own peak.

“Cumming, cumming, cumming!” he shouts and bites your neck again.

Felix spills within you, his hips sputter and he continues to talk through it.

“So good, fuck, thank you, thank you. So fucking good, fuck, oh my god.”

The room begins to settle, both of your pants becoming softer than the music. Felix holds you close to his chest still, not letting you go.

Your eyes flicker to your desktop.

“... I’m only halfway done. Your cock isn’t going anywhere.”

#stray kids smut #skz smut #stray kids x reader #skz x reader #stray kids kinktober #skz kinktober #lee felix smut #felix smut #lee felix x reader #felix x reader

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hxxsxxng · 2 months

Text

SUNGHOON 박성훈 - VACATION

MINORS DNI

word count: 2.9k

Genre: SMUT

Content: oral, fingering, praising, use of “daddy” and “master”, creampie, unprotected sex…. and more

Preview: You and Sunghoon deserve some relaxation time. and what better place to do it than a vacation cabin.

Authors note: I wrote this back when wattpad was really cracking down on smut, so if there is a word that is weirdly censored that’s why.

SUPPORT BY REBLOGING if you want

"Ahhh we're finally here." you say getting out of the car.

The 9 hour drive to the cold, snowy mountains has finally ended. You and your fiancée, Sunghoon, decided to rent a beautiful log cabin for the week of Christmas and you just arrived.

"Let's go check this place out!" hoon said as he was stretching.

You both walk up to the huge wooden double door and you look at each other in shock. Y'all didn't thing the place would be THAT big and fancy.

He places the key into the door and then pushes them open. The inside is huge. The furniture in the living room is nice and there is a huge, warm fireplace. You both step in and start touring the cabin.

You come across the kitchen. You are both surprised at all of the high tech equipment in there. Next is the book room. Thousands of books were just sitting on the shelf for display. Who knows how long it's been since someone actually read one.

There was also a theatre room. It seated 8 people and according to the people who let y'all rent the cabin, the sound system is really good.

"We are going to be watching a lot of movies on here babe." hoon says to you. You slightly chuckle.

You both walk down the hall way and come across the master bedroom. The carpet is nice, the room is big, and the bed was big enough to fit like 6 people. Y'all step farther in and walk into the master bathroom. The sinks were so fancy and the mirror was a full body mirror and it had not a speck a dirt on it. And across from the mirror was the bathtub. It had a part where you could sit on and it also had jets. It looked so relaxing.

After wondering around the insanely large house, you both decided to go back out to the car and grab your belongings.

You both walk back in and carry the suitcases to the bedroom and set them down. You are both exhausted and just want to relax.

"Baby do you want to go cuddle by the fire place?" Sunghoon says tiredly

He says this knowing that would would obviously say yes. Cozy cuddling is your favorite thing to do.

Sunghoon then goes and gets wood to start a fire while you fine some fuzzy blankets. You set the blankets down on the couch and go to change into something more comfortable.

You come back and he already has a nice fire going and he is already laying on the couch under the blankets. In a pouty mood, you walk over and lift up the blanket and slide under it. You closest to the fire, and him right behind you. (The spooning position)

He wraps his arm around you and you both fall asleep quickly.

2 hours go by and and barely waking up. You realize that Sunghoon is no longer laying with you. You give yourself a few seconds to wake up before going to see where he is. You hear the water running but you can't tell from where.

It can't be from the kitchen so it must be from the bathroom? you think to yourself

You walk into the master bathroom to find Sunghoon taking a warm bubble bath. Warm enough to make the mirror fog up.

His face brightens when he sees you walk in.

"You're in here, about to take a bath, in the big jet tub, and you didn't ask if I wanted to join?" you say in a fake offended voice.

"I mean, you are always welcome" he smirks

You decide to take him up on his offer. You walk over and stand next to the tub, taking off your top. Sunghoon looks at you amazed and started to touch your waist. Then, you took off your bra. He looked like he wanted to grab your chest so badly. You then slide off your pants, leaving only your panties.

"Mmmmmm are you gonna sit on my lap when you get in here?" he said suggestively.

You chuckle as you remove your final piece of clothing.

You step over the edge of the tub, feeling the hot water. It takes you a second to get used to the temperature of the water, then you submerge your body up to the middle of your waist.

Sunghoon scoots closer to you and looks deeply into your eyes, resting each of his hands on the lateral part of your upper arms. He slides his hands down and sets them on your love handles. He pulls you in for a kiss.

He continues kissing you until it turns into a full on make out session. His hands were roaming your body while yours were resting on his shoulders. He slides his hands up your waist them up to your neck, wrapping his hands around it. He softly grips your neck, as if he were choking you, but not all the way.

This simple action gave you butterflies. His hands are so big, slim, and soft and the feeling of them being wrapped around your neck was such a turn on for you, and he knew it. He probably did it for that purpose.

His hands continue to roam your body and so you start doing the same thing to him. Feeling down his muscular biceps, his chest, and down to his large thighs. He gets so turned on when you rub his thighs so you decided to calmly run your hands up and down them.

While this is all going on, you can't help but notice that he a grown a bit hard. You then reach your hand to his groin area, making contact with his member. This contact made him hum a little bit.

You slowly wrap your hands around his member and gently stroke it. Hoon, still keeping your lips connected, is starting to breathe heavier, wanting you to go further.

You moved you hand painfully slow, causing him to groan. He grips your hips and thighs in anticipation.

You finally decided to give in after what seemed like forever to him. You tighten your grip just a little bit and you pick of the pace. His breaths start to get slightly shakier, but still managing to keep his lips in direct contact with yours. Your tongues are wrestling each other's and Sunghoon playfully bites your lip ever so often.

He departs from your lips and goes to sit on the tub seat on the other side of the bathtub, leaning back. With no questions asked, you come to him right after, heel sitting in front of him. There wasn't a significant amount of water in to tub, so where wasn't a lot of water going every where.

You grab his cock with you hand and you start stroking it again. You open your mouth just a little bit and put your lips on the tip. You put more of it into your mouth, twirling your tongue around it. His favorite thing in the world is when you use your tongue a lot when you have his d¡ck in your mouth.

Slowly allowing more in to your mouth also meant that Sunghoon was slowly getting more restless. He loves seeing you bob your head up and down. He runs his fingers through the front parts of you hair, leading them up to a makeshift ponytail. The front pieces would keep falling out but he would brush them back if they did.

"Angh~ you are so good at this princess." he says

You, physically having no room to talk due to your mouth being stuffed with his perfect cock, hummed in response. Your hum made your throat vibrate and it made Sunghoon twitch a little bit. He starts to move his hips in a rhythmic motion, trying to match yours.

You speed up exponentially out of no where, surprising him. He was so shocked but he loved every second of it. His breathing is shaky and he begins to grip your har tighter. He tosses his head back while his member starts twitching.

"I'm so close baby girl,....yeah right there" he says to you.

You go down farther and farther on his dick , until eventually it was all the way in. He lets out cute moans as you feel him plant his seed in your mouth. Once you suck him dry, you pull away having your mouth hanging open, with his cvm dripping out of it.

He smiles and looks down at you. He grabs your lower jaw and closes your mouth. "Swallow it" he demands. So, no matter how strange it tasted, you swallows a mouthful is his cvm. Leaving some of it around your mouth.

"Good girl"

He switches seats with you and starts by kissing you all of your body, down your neck, chest, stomach, thighs... all of you. He runs his hands up and down your inner thighs while softly kissing them. He slides his fingers onto your sensitive area. He slowly and carefully starts rubbing your clit is circular motions.

He starts kissing you more, like sloppy kisses and he takes his fingers away and licks them, making them more wet, and then continued to manipulate your pussy.

"R-right there daddy, just like that.~" you say while letting out a quiet moan.

He massages you slower, teasing you to keep you on edge. He wants you to beg for it.

"Why did y-you do that??~" you say sadly

No response, he just looks down and smiles a little bit.

"Please keep going, I need this daddy, i need your fingers."

Sunghoon gets painfully turned on when you you any kind of praise word, like daddy, but his favorite is master. He loves the feeling of having power over you, so you saying this was bound for him to have a reaction.

The next thing you know, you feel him slip his fingers inside of you. He starts moving his fingers in and out and he knows all of the right places to do it too.

You lay back and rest your arms on the sides of the tub. You throw your head back and decide to let him take control of the moment. You try to keep your cute little moans to yourself but Sunghoon could hear them.

"Come on baby, let them out" he says

You very obviously blush. Following his request, you allow yourself to moan a little louder, it's not like anyone would hear you.

You weren't being loud enough. He wanted you to be screaming his name. Moaning uncontrollably. Tears rolling down your face. Legs shaking. All of this only for his own pleasure. Seeing you in such a weak, helpless state would only make him more horny.

He forcefully picks up his pace, making you gasp. You try to contain is but you can't. You start breathing heavily as moans continuously fall out of your mouth. You place your arms on his shoulders and you dig your nails into his upper back. This sort of stinging pain was so hot to him.

This is what he liked to see. This is what he liked to hear. Your adorable moans filling up to room while you grip his shoulders. It was heaven to him.

But it still wasn't enough. He eagerly pulls his fingers out of you and grabs you up off of the tub seat. He forcefully bends you over the edge of the tub. He has both of your hands held behind your back with one of his hands.

He grabs his member and slides it across your cl¡t a few times, building up the anticipation for the both of you.

"Are you sure this is what you want?" he asks you

"Yes please daddy, ruin me"

He rams his perfectly shaped cock into you without hesitation. It is the perfect fit for you.

"Fuuck~" he says under his breath. "Your pussy is so tight baby."

He starts off with slow strokes, making sure you are adjusting to the size well. You wince at the pain but it begins to start turning into pleasure quickly. Once you show that it's okay to go a little faster, he increases the pace.

He lets go of your hands and grabs both of your hips for more control. He notices the mirror was way less foggy than it was earlier.

"Looks in the mirror babe" he says

You feel embarrassed when he said this. You groan and keep your head down.

He grabs the ends your you hair with his fist pulling it back, forcing your head up.

"I said look in the damn mirror" he's says but this time, more angrily.

Your face was so red from embarrassment but also from the heat. You were moaning so loud while being forced to watch your self get fucked Sunghoon. But you have to admit, it was hot seeing the faces he made with each stroke.

"You look so pretty when I ram my dick in and out of you, princess. You are taking it like such a good girl." He praised.

He grips your hair a little tighter, giving you goosebumps. He uses his other hand to reach around you body and grab your breast in the palm of his hand. He was so skilled , it was as if he were a pornstar.

He continued at a steady pace.

You couldn't feel your body. Him repeatedly hitting your g-spot perfectly over and over again made the rest of your body go numb. Your mind is cloudy. You can't get over how insanely good he is making you feel.

"I-it feels so g-good,... m-master." these words some how managed to slip from your mouth.

"Mmm really? does this feel good too?" he proceeds you slap your ass.

Saliva begins to ooze out of your mouth. He has you drooling over him and what he's doing to you.

He slows down, but pounds into you with a lot of extra force each time. Your eyes roll to the back of your head and you can barely breathe

"Do you like when I do this?" he asked

He didn't even need an answer. He knew what it was doing to you.

You were so needy for him. You would do anything he said if it meant that you could finish.

"Say my name and i'll let you cum?" he says

"d-daddy"

"Louder" he says sternly

"Daddy"

"Good Girl"

Your legs are getting weaker and are shaking like jello, you could barely hold yourself up.

Your moans start getting shakier and heavier. He picks up the pace again, trying to let you reach your max. He soon realizes that is is close to meeting his own, too.

"I love you baby." he says to you

You try to respond with "I love you too" but the sounds of your moans were masking it. You reach your all time high and you loud enough for the next town over to hear. You feel his warm liquid shoot into you as he continues with his strokes, eventually slowing down and pulling himself out of you. His cum was dripping and seeping out of your pussy while you both try and catch your breath.

He looks down at your pretty hole that he just ruined.

"Damn babe, your pussy looks so good with my cum oozing out."

He sits you back down on to the tub seat. He takes two of his fingers and slides them in you, not even giving you enough time to recooperate. He slides them in and out, making you grip the edge of the tub. You close your eyes tightly, whimpering.

He removes his fingers and sticks them in your mouth. The sweat droplets on his face was so attractive to you.

"You did so well for me today babe" he said taking his fingers out of your mouth while looking deeply into your eyes, gripping your chin.

You smile and thank him, pulling him into a kiss.

Y'all finish up in the bath tub and begin to get out. He runs to grab two towels. He returns and tosses a towel to you. He smiles and pulls you in, wrapping you both into his towel. He kisses you on the forehead.

You both walk back into the bedroom decide to get ready to sleep again, but longer than a nap of course. You both dig into your suitcases to find some pajama pants and a loose t-shirt to wear to sleep. You slip your clothes on and you plop yourself down in to the bed. You were very tired and sore.

Sunghoon leaves the room for a brief second and comes back what some warm blankets in his hand. He sets one down and he lays the other one out on top of you. He makes sure you are all warm and cozy before sliding into the bed himself. He lays the second blanket over the both of you and pulls you in closer by the waist. He leans in and kisses you on the forehead.

#enhypen #enhypen niki #enhypen sunoo #heeseung #heeseung smut #jungwon #kpop #stray kids #enhypen jungwon #enhypen x reader #sunghoon #jay enhypen #enhypen jay #jake sim #sunghoon smut

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petit-etoile · 7 months

Note

Congrats on 200 followers! :D For drabble ideas, how about one where Tav is becoming overwhelmed from being the leader of their group and they end up having a bit of a breakdown in camp, so Astarion whisks them away and dotes on them for the evening to help soothe some of their worries.

i am tired of being brave

pairing: astarion/tav wordcount: 1,036 content warnings: none other tags: canon compliant, introspection, character study, idiots in love, established relationship, gender neutral tav, human!tav archiveofourown: here.

tag list: @azrielshadows1nger, @pandimoostuff, @faevi, @microskies, @foreverthemaraudersera, @queenofthespacesquids, @claryvoyantfray, @6doodlaang14, @anne-isnotokay, @itshimbotime, @yeeteth-the-raven, @sessils,@8-opossums, @worryknotdear, @abirdaboxandachippedcup, be added to the taglist here

summary: All you want is to get away from everything. Astarion indulges you.

‘Enough!’ you shout.

Lae’zel and Shadowheart have the decency to look properly chagrined when they peer over at you, frozen as if turned to stone. Shadowheart’s knife dips underneath Lae’zel’s chin, but the pretense of applied pressure goes away. You have no idea what hour it is or how long they’ve been going at it but the little patience you have snaps like a fine thread.

‘We have only gotten this far because we trust each other,’ you snap at them, pulling your nightshirt tighter around your shoulders. ‘But if you want to ruin that, leave me out of it!’

In what is likely the silliest mistake to make, you turn around and march to your bedroll to pick up your hunting knife and then march beyond the outskirts of camp — beyond Halsin and Jaheira and Gale and Wyll and Karlach, and Withers who seems to be musing over the situation with faint interest.

If Shadowheart and Lae’zel want to fight to the death, let them! You’ve done all that you can to get the group this far. You’re tired, you’ve been woken up two nights in a row, and you’ve had it with the drama.

You plunge yourself through the nearest bush you can find and sit next to running water, your arms pulled across your chest to keep the breeze from chilling you to the bone. You’re miserable beneath the moonlight. You can’t remember the last time you’ve slept more than four hours.

You almost doze off in the underbrush beneath a tree, but then there’s a hand sliding over your mouth and a body behind yours, somehow wedged behind you once your eyes closed. You gasp and try to reach for your knife, but Astarion tuts and continues sliding between you and the tree. It would be annoying if you weren’t relieved it was him. You relax back against him despite the feeling that your heart is going to leap out of your throat.

‘You shouldn’t fall asleep in the woods,’ Astarion warns you. ‘There are terrible beasts that have made this place their hunting ground.’

You shiver. ‘I didn’t mean to fall asleep,’ you say. ‘I just needed to get away.’

He hums. ‘Did something happen back at the camp?’

It doesn’t do any good to keep secrets, and your other companions had already witnessed it. You tell Astarion about Lae’zel and Shadowheart’s never ending fight. It doesn’t make sense to keep attacking one another, especially since the Artefact is the only reason the worms haven’t burrowed deeper into your skulls. It wears you down every day to keep making decisions for everyone when there are people with better experience. Everyone looks to you no matter how much you wish they’d look elsewhere. You never wanted this fellowship to hang on your every word. You just wanted allies.

‘It’s hardly fair,’ Astarion agrees. ‘To have the weight of this…Absolute sitting on your shoulders. I can’t imagine what it must be like to wrangle us all into cohabitation.’

‘Some discomforts are easier to resolve than others,’ you say. ‘It was easy making everyone throw their stakes away.’

‘I’m fairly certain Wyll kept his,’ Astarion snorts.

‘Yes, but he doesn’t wake us all up holding it at your neck,’ you say, elbowing him. ‘They don’t have to become friends or lovers or anything of the sort. They just have to get along until we arrive at Baldur’s Gate.’

Baldur’s Gate still seems so very far away. Acknowledging this drags you down more than you wish it to. You’re tired of walking and fighting and lying your way out of every other conflict. You miss your family and your life before the worm. The only good that’s come of it is Astarion. He lets you lounge on him when you please in exchange for some blood, and…

It’s more than that.

Astarion lets you do whatever the hell you please as long as it doesn’t annoy him. You’re free to nap in his tent or sit at his side while he reads, and he’s even allowed you to style his delicate curls with pomade. He lets you kiss him if you ask, holds your hand. If you asked him to kill someone for you, you’re certain he would without question.

Reluctantly, you sit forward. ‘I should probably head back,’ you admit. ‘I should make sure everyone is still alive.’

‘To the hells with it,’ Astarion disagrees. He wraps his arms around your waist and pulls you back. ‘You close your eyes and sleep. Let them come looking for us if it troubles them that much.’

‘And if Shadowheart kills Lae’zel?’

‘I’m almost certain Lae’zel would win,’ he says. ‘But, I have no doubt they’ll behave. You, on the other hand, are being naughty.’

You laugh but you do as you're told. You worm further in the roots and lean back against him. It’s chilly, but having someone else there does wonders for how willing you are to fall asleep. It’s almost nice how secluded you are away from the drama and stress. You almost wish you were a vampire so that you could sneak out and use hunting as an excuse.

The respect for all you do is nice. Sure, Halsin and Jaheira have both commended you for how hard you work for your age, but it isn’t the same. You still stand in the middle of camp trying to handle things on your own. The planning, the decisions. They somehow fall on your shoulders. A little more input would be nice, or a sign from a god that you’re doing the right thing. You try not to think about it as you feel sleep edge toward your consciousness. Astarion hums softly in your ear, and though it’s uneven, you can’t help but think it’s so off-tune that it’s lovely.

You yawn so hard your jaw pops, and Astarion hushes you, kissing idly behind your ear. It lulls you into an ease you haven’t experienced for a while. You melt into the touch. If you could purr, you would.

‘This,’ Astarion says, ‘is what you deserve. To relax here in my arms. Sleep now, and we’ll deal with what shall come in the morning.’

#astarion #astarion ancunin #astarion bg3 #astarion x tav #astarion x you #astarion x reader #astarion x oc #from ，carcosa .#my fic #anonymous #* a thousand lives，and one #foreshadowing for the sake of this verse?#mayhap .

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sprout-fics · 7 months

Text

Rotes Mädchen: Chapter 8

(Werewolf! König x Red Riding Hood! Reader)

(Art by the lovely @zwienzixes)

(Masterlist)

Word count: 5.7k Rating: Mature Tags: Werewolf! König, Fairytale AU, Monster Hunters TF141, Witch Laswell, Traditional German Fairytale setting, World Building/Lore, F! Reader, Mating/Claiming Bites, Witch Hunts, Angst, Whump Warnings: None

The tick of the hours until sundown echoes in your ears as you near Laswell’s cottage.

Normally you’d stop just shy of the clearing to breathe in the familiar scent of burning birch, of the nearby stream, relishing the sunlight that feels brighter here than in the village. Now, sunshine hardly escapes the damp cover of gray that obscures the sky, making the afternoon already feel so dark. The sun has passed its zenith, and soon darkness will descend on these woods, ensnaring the souls that live here as the monster lifts its blood-streaked muzzle to the hanging, yellow moon.

You’re running out of time, and now the lives of you, of Laswell, and König all hang in the balance.

The witchers’ mares nicker anxiously as you trot the remaining distance to the cabin, tied to a post and already saddled. From behind them appears Soap, fully adorned in his armor, sword at his side.

“Hen!” He breathes with a rush of relief, closing the distance between you and sweeping you into an embrace before you can protest. “Price was about t’ send a search party for you. Thank goodness yer alrigh’.”

You wrap your arms around Soap’s middle eagerly, pressing yourself to his front with an unsteady exhale. You can feel your heart hammering in your ribs unevenly, and with each beat you feel the minutes thin until your world is irreversibly changed.

“Laswell-” You gasp, clutching at the metal bracers on his forearms. “Where is she?”

Soap’s brow furrows deeper in worry, eyes glinting with confusion at your sudden frantic energy.

“Inside,” He responds quickly. “What’s wrong?”

You shake your head, push past him towards the door, Soap’s concerned voice trailing after you. You all but burst into the cottage, finding Price and the others bent seriously around a map splayed across Laswell’s kitchen table. They look up with surprise at your abrupt entry, taking in the sight of you with your chest heaving and eyes wild.

“Red?” Laswell asks, straightening and turning towards you, her wise gray eyes alight with anxiety at your frazzled state. “What-”

She’s cut off as you take two large strides towards her, wrapping your arms around her slender frame and breathing out a shuddering sigh. Laswell makes a small noise of surprise, stiffening before she forces herself to relax and return the embrace.

You swallow thickly, throat dry as you try to reassure yourself. It’s alright. Laswell is safe. The others are here, they won’t let the villagers hurt her. They’ll keep you both safe.

Laswell pulls you back so she balances you by your forearms. Your eyes feel too warm, threatening tears as you struggle to find the words to explain the panic inside you.

“You need to leave.” You tell her at last, voice shaking. “The others- the ones in the village, they’re- tonight, they said-”

“Hey, hey, slow down.” Gaz urges quietly as he appears at your side, a featherlight touch at your shoulder. “Deep breath.”

You nod, face warm as you heed his words and force yourself through a trembling exhale. You look up at Laswell once more, feeling the grip on your arms tighten as you speak.

“They’re going to burn us both.”

Silence descends upon the cabin.

You see the fear dawn in Laswell’s eyes, and feel it shake it to your core.

Laswell is never afraid. Worried, yes, in her quiet way where she’s analyzing, considering, lifting her face to the wind to understand its direction. She always has a plan, always has a way out, a secondary escape. To see this, to see fear...

“Kate-” Price tries as Laswell wobbles on her feet, allowing you and Gaz to help her into a nearby chair as she presses a hand to her face. Price hovers at her shoulder, lays a hand there as the wise woman bends her head in distress.

“I knew there were murmurs in the village.” She confesses at last, voice hoarse. “There’s always been murmurs, but-”

You kneel at her side, red cape spilling across your form as you hold her hand. She turns it over, curls her fingers around yours in a wordless acknowledgment. She looks up at Price, and you see his pinched expression as a mirror of her own.

“I thought perhaps summoning you all would prove to them I’m an ally, not an enemy. It seems I was wrong.”

You clutch her hand tighter, and Kate turns her gaze to you, lifting a hand to pet at the hood of your cloak.

“You too?” She asks, and despite the fondness there’s a grief, a heartache. “Even though you’ve lived here all your life?”

You clasp her hand to your cheek, relish the warmth against your frigid skin.

“They never wanted me, Kate.” You whisper with a sad smile. “They never will.”

Kate’s eyes are full of sorrow.

“Come with us.” Soap blurts out, still standing near the open door, allowing cold air to sweep inside. “After we kill the wolf. We can keep you safe, take you somewhere else.”

Yes. Leave with them, travel alongside these men you’ve come to trust, enjoy the company they keep. Go with Laswell towards a new horizon, have her keep you as the family she’s always been to you. Perhaps learn her trade, take over her craft and grow into the same woman you’ve always admired. Stay somewhere safe and keep a hearth warm for the traveling knights who have become your friends.

Yet your words from naught but a few hours before linger tight in your throat, an oath that tangles around your heart like the quiet interwoven braids of a daisy chain.

“Then, once it’s over, we’ll leave these woods. Together.”

Leave him? After everything?

Your face falls. Kate’s hand stills.

“Red?” She echoes cautiously, and you bend your face to her lap, gripping the folds of her skirt, feeling your eyes warm.

You close your eyes, force yourself to swallow down the grief in your throat and at last sway to your feet. The motion loosens the hood from your head, gently pooling onto your shoulders. Cool air washes across your nape, and you shiver, staring down at your boots as you try to collect yourself before you speak.

Before you can, you feel a presence shift behind you, hear a small suck of air as a gloved hand reaches out to graze your skin.

"What is this?" Soap asks suddenly from behind you, and you stiffen under his touch. His hand grazes aside the fabric of your cape, revealing the tender flesh of your shoulder where the bruising indent of Konig’s teeth lays against your skin. "...Red?"

The bite mark.

You slap a hand over the bruise before you can stop yourself, eyes wide with surprise at being noticed. You turn to look up at Soap, only to catch the fright that etches clear across his expression.

"Wh-what-" He tries in his shock, and the room goes silent.

"Red?" Laswell asks from beside you gently, cautiously, reaching forward to lay a reassuring hand on yours.

You draw back as if you've been burned.

It's too obvious, but you can't help it. Soap looks at you with something in his eyes akin to fear, gaze flickering desperately between your face and your hand covering the bite.

"Lass-" he tries, but his voice is a croak in his throat.

"Soap."

Five sets of eyes, including your own, turn to Price. He's halfway risen out of his chair at the head of the table, eyes staring not at the Scot but at you.

"I-it's a bite." Soap manages, gesturing to you, looking lost.

“I-I can explain.” You stammer, eyes wide, backing up to put distance between yourself and the group, even as Soap gently stretches a hand towards you. Warmth burns across your face, mortification at being revealed as the temptress you’ve been accused of.

The group is silent, wide-eyed as they watch you hesitate near the hearth. There’s worry and fear there- but beyond that there’s trust, a conviction that you will confess to them the truth.

“There’s something I haven’t told you.” You admit, eyes traveling to each of the men in turn. Kate’s eyes are kind even though she does not yet know the secret waiting in your chest. Ever loving, ever accepting, Kate. Your beloved friend.

“I-” You try. “There’s someone waiting for me.”

Confusion fills the faces of the four men gathered around you. You look at them, then to Kate once more.

“His name is König.” You begin. “I found him in the woods, injured. He was bitten by the wolf. I took him in, nursed him back to health, and I-” The words come tumbling forth, a secret at long last revealed. Yet you pause when you get to the confession of your love affair, the feelings you harbor for the man who slept with you in his arms.

“He was bitten?” Ghost cuts you off, voice urgent, grave. “When?”

“Weeks ago now.” You clarify. “He’s- he’s deformed. I mean, I haven’t seen his face, but he wears a hood to conceal his face. He was hiding in the woods because he couldn’t come close to town. He was afraid of the villagers.” You blink, look down towards the floor with a mirthless smile. “I can hardly blame him.”

“I found him the day after you arrived. He was injured, could barely walk because of the bite on his leg. I-I couldn’t just leave him there. He would have died.”

The group around you is silent, weighing your words. it’s almost eerie, the way there’s no questions. Looking down as you are, you can’t see the looks exchanged between them, a silent conversation unfolding before you.

At last, Price steps closer, closing the distance so he gently balances you by your forearms. He holds you there, tucks a gently gloved hand under your chin so you look up into his eyes.

“You kept this a secret.” He murmurs, and you grimace at his tone. Stern, comforting, but beneath it- hurt. There’s a pain in his eyes that stabs at your chest, and you recall his gentle hand at your back, the way he’d secured your arms around your middle as you rode with him, his soft entreaty towards your safety. The kindness of his words then haunt you, cast in sharp contrast to his current voice.

“I...was worried you’d hurt him, chase him away.” You answer softly. “He’s a vagrant, a traveler. He’s been chased from villages before because of his deformity. I was afraid you’d do the same, and...and leave him to the mercy of the wolf.”

“I...couldn’t let that happen.” You go on, voice hardly a whisper. “You haven’t met him yet, but he’s gentle and kind. He’s protective and strong and we can talk for hours about all things. He’s told me about his travels, about stories he’s heard. He’s caring and sweet and makes me feel safe and warm and-”

Price stiffens, swallows.

“You love him.” He states, and it isn’t a question, but you nod all the same, ducking your head to avoid watching the hurt blossom deeper against his gaze. Guilt clenches sharply inside you, sours your mouth into a grimace of despair.

“He bit you.” Gaz observes quietly from the other side of the room, voice full of a grief you don’t understand. You turn to him, eyes wide, mouth opening and closing to try and explain. Yet all that escapes you is a small agreement, a confession in hardly a whisper.

“Yes.”

“Price.” Ghost says suddenly, and Price turns from you to his second in command, hands leaving you. Ghost stares intently at his captain, and you watch Price drag a weary hand over his face before he adjourns your conversation to approach Ghost in low, hushed tones you don’t hear.

“Red.”

Your attention is instead brought back to Laswell, who stands, draws near and gently gathers you closer to her, tilting your head to examine the bruise along your neck. Her hands tremble as they ghost over the mark, and you watch the way her smile of reassurance doesn’t reach her eyes.

“Did it hurt?” She asks soothingly, and you pause, shake your head.

“No- well, yes, but not too much.” You answer plainly, and it only deepens the worry in her eyes in a way you don’t understand.

“You agreed to it?” She asks, tone firmer.

“Yes- Kate, what is this?” You ask with a mixture of confusion and concern, but before she can answer you only shake your head instead. “Never mind that. Kate, König is sick. He has a terrible fever. He was all but delirious when I left, he couldn’t even stand. You have to help him.”

Kate pauses at that, and then shifts so she grips you by your arms with sudden urgency.

“Where is he now?” She asks sharply, and you blink at her, startled by the sudden fixation of her gaze upon yours.

“I-In my cottage, in the village.” You stammer. “Wh-”

“John.” Kate speaks, moving away from you, and you make to follow, only to pause as Ghost turns from them both and towards you instead. There’s a heavy set to his shoulders as he steps forward, and it feels all for the world like a promise of danger. You flinch away from it, hand once again raising towards your neck, something instinctual forcing you to conceal the evidence of König’s claim on you.

Ghost pauses where he stands, instantly freezing at your response. When he approaches again it's softer, gentler, as if he's trying to tame a trapped, scared animal. He doesn't speak as his hands stretch an inch forward, just enough to placate you as you tremble, legs weak with uncertainty. You can barely see the darks of his eyes from behind his mask. Yet his posture radiates gentleness, a beckoning of trust, safety, allowing him to come closer.

"You're alrigh'." He murmurs softly as his hands smooth up your shoulders, gently tugging the tie of your cape so he can scoot it to the side. You try to refuse him when his grip gently pries away your hand covering the wound, but Ghost offers you a graze of his thumb on the inside of your wrist, making you go lax against his touch.

He doesn't make a sound when the bite is revealed, doesn't move to touch the bruise lest it hurt you. All he does instead is continue to rub a gentle circle into your wrist, offering a little hum of reassurance before he turns, looks at Price.

He nods. Price’s face falls open with a despair you long to understand.

You look up at Ghost, meeting his eyes through his mask. There’s questions left unspoken in your gaze, but you know from his eyes alone he won’t answer them. You try to understand why the group is suddenly so grim, why Laswell, Soap, Gaz and Price whisper to themselves and cast furtive glances in your direction. Why the secrecy?

You’re so tired of secrets. You’ve been keeping your own for so long, only to find König keeping his in turn. Now that you’ve confessed, your friends have only turned away from you, discussing amongst themselves in words you can’t hear. You want to raise your voice, bat at Ghost’s chest, demand answers that they will not yield. The forest holds all things quiet, a hushed, damp softness that curls within the morning mist, obscuring shapes shifting between the trees.

Price sighs from the council gathered in the corner, rubbing his face once more before speaking.

“Right.” he announces, voice suddenly filling the cottage with an authoritative declaration. “We’re going back to the village. The werewolf will likely attack there after dark. Laswell will see to Red’s vagabond. Soap, Gaz-” He looks towards his second in command. “You’re with me. Ghost, I want you with Laswell and Red. I don’t want a single person that isn’t in this room to set foot inside Red’s cottage, understood?”

“Understood.” Ghost replies firmly and settles a hand on your shoulder in a silent reassurance, a promise of protection.

Laswell shoots the younger man a warm smile at the gesture, but you can only nod, thoughts once more drifting to the feverish man writhing in your bed back in the village.

“I want everyone geared up in five minutes.” Price goes on, arms crossed, letting his gaze weigh on each of you in turn. “We are leaving, and we’re going to slay this monster once and for all.”

He turns then, reaching for his sword that lays across the map on the table. He pauses for just a moment to look at you once more, mouth a grim, thin line before he vanishes outside into the growing mist that keeps all secrets, even those in your heart.

----

Four sets of thundering hooves race through the trees as the six of you bolt back in the direction of the village. The sun hovers near the horizon, and with every growing moment it dips closer towards darkness. The moon is already rising, obscured by the trees but hanging heavy in its fullness. The mist of the dim forest swirls around you as the horses gallop down the same path you once saw this monster, with its towering stature and gleaming golden eyes. Then, like now, you had clasped tightly to Price’s back, casting terrified glances over your shoulder to find the shadow that lurked just beyond the tree line.

As nighttime falls, you wait for a lachrymose howl to carve up into the sky.

You lift your face towards the wind, will the mares impossibly faster, urging them into a sunset flight as the hour darkens, as König lays waiting in your cottage. Helpless, feverish, perfect prey for a monster to claw through the door, lift him to its waiting, dripping jaw.

The memory of your dream, of König’s scream slicing through the midnight forest and urging you to run, run pulses in tandem with your heartbeat, a wild canter just with the deafening fall of hoofbeats against the woodsy, damp earth.

König reaches for you again, and the warning he calls out to you is muffled by the thunder of your heartbeat. You catch his eyes, his gaze bright with fear. Gone are the soft green irises that speak to you with warm familiarity, replaced down with an eerie, glowing, gleaming gold that mirrors the light of the moon above.

“John!” Laswell’s voice cuts through your reverie, and you cling tighter as Price urges his horse to a halt, the others steadying their own mounts to a stillstand. Laswell gazes out from behind Gaz, brow drawn tight beneath her own dark cloak.

“What is it?” Price prompts quickly, voice dragging in a gruff growl as his mare circles uneasily under you both. You cling tighter to his waist, fingers clenching uneasily against the leather straps of his armor.

“Look.” Laswell gestures, and the five of you follow her outstretched hand up above the trees, where a wisp of dark smoke snakes a tendril against the gray sky. You blink, lips parting as the acrid smell of smoke suddenly floods your nose. It’s not uncommon to smell chimney smoke as you enter the village, but the heavy, charred scent of something burning seizes sharply in your lungs with a cold wash of fear.

“The village.” You breathe, looking to Price with wide, startled eyes. “The village is burning.”

Price looks down at you, and there’s only a momentary flash of surprise before his expression once more settles into a grim resolve.

“Hold tight.” He announces to you, and then to the others: “Quickly!”

Once more he urges the mare under him into a full gallop, and you cling helplessly to his back, your only anchor from the rock of the horse under you. You scrunch your eyes shut, thoughts racing alongside the sprinting hoofbeats as you imagine the town engulfed in flames, of a pyre awaiting you and Laswell, the sparks floating up towards the moon.

Clouds lurk darkly against the horizon, warning of a coming storm. As you all race towards the village, the wind begins as a gentle breeze, only to rise to a full howl as it rustles through the trees. Inky dark clouds obscure the orange haze of sunset like charcoal, and the horizon is painted with embers that you pray you don’t find of the town you once loved.

The village comes into view as you round the final bend, just as Price and the others did all that time ago when they first came to you. Atop their dark steeds, they’d gazed down at your scarlet form, and had chosen you to guide them through the woods.

"Go on then, Rotes Mädchen."

How long it has been since then. So much has happened. The wolf, König, the villagers, the promise of a burning hellfire, and now the full moon rising as an abraxas curse above you all.

König waits for you in the burning village, and you pray once more to the Gods that he’ll honor his oath, that he’ll be there once you return, whole and safe.

I promised I would go with you. You whisper inside the gale of your thoughts. Don’t make me break that promise.

At first glance the village appears whole and intact, the houses boarded with their shutters closed, hastily made barricades sheltering barns and stables. There’s not a soul that peeks from the windows as the six of you circle in the town center near the well, and it isn’t until Soap’s despairing, quiet murmur that you understand what’s truly wrong.

“Oh no.” He whispers, barely audible above the nickering of his mare. “Oh, Red.”

You follow his gaze, and feel your whole world turn to ash.

“NO!!” You scream, quickly sliding from Price’s saddle-

and bolting in the direction of your home set ablaze.

Laswell calls after you, but you heedlessly disobey her warning, legs pumping under you, hood flying from your head as you run in the direction of your burning cottage. There’s a crowd gathered just beyond your front gate, and among them are men holding pitchforks, hoisting them high and chanting a curse towards the clouds that roil dark and mysterious against the rising moon. As you near one of them turns, shouts to his compatriots. You ignore them, trying to push them aside to run up the path to your home, to the place you left your beloved resting fitfully in the bed where he had embraced you.

“NO!!” You shriek as one of them catches you around your waist, an arm stretching out in the direction of the cottage. Flames erupt from the windows, smoke billowing from the ceiling, and your own scream is muffled by the cracking of wood, like bones breaking inside the fragile cage of your heart. “KÖNIG!! PLEASE, NO!!”

He’s inside, he’s trapped. They’ve secured him there, no doubt, sent him to burn in your stead when they could not find you. He’s waiting for your return as he promised, waiting for you to find aid and embrace him once more, say the words you wish you had spoken sooner.

“Let me go!!” You scream as you’re hauled off your feet, shouts echoing in a frenzied cacophony around you. “Please- he’s inside, I need to save him-!!”

Your hands are caught, hauled upwards as someone calls for rope, and you scream then, a wordless, terrified cry just as tears blossom against your vision.

He’s dying, he’s dying, please-

You sob hysterically as you thrash in the unyielding grip of your captors, fighting against them like a feral, trapped animal and screaming, screaming for your beloved, for them to release you so you can throw yourself into the flames and rescue him or at least kiss him once more before the both of you drown in flames.

“Please-” You cry, throat thick with tears as the hunter’s son approaches you with your bindings-

Only to be stopped by a sword at his throat.

The men holding you freeze, not yet releasing you, but staring up at the towering witcher who’s eyes gleam darkly behind his mask.

“Release her.” Ghost growls, and you watch the blood drain from the young man’s face, his sinister sneer changing instead to a pale look of terror.

“I said.” Ghost announces once more, tilting the sharp of his blade so it nicks a shallow, red slice against the man’s throat. “Release her.”

The hands holding you vanish, and as soon as you’re released you bolt in the direction of your cottage once more, cape flaring out behind you. Yet before you can make it past the gate, another arm snakes around your middle, hauls you back against a broad chest.

“No Red!” Soap cries above the crackling of the flames that glow against your face. You struggle in his arms, chest heaving erratically as you claw at him to release you. Soap only grips you harder, prevents you from taking another step with his admirable witcher’s strength.

“I have to save him!” You gasp desperately, stretching towards the burning silhouette you once called home, even as the eaves begin to buckle. “Soap, please!!”

“He’s gone.” Soap mutters hoarsely into your shoulder. “Hen, he’s gone.”

A sob cracks your throat, and you slump against his hold, exhausted, grieving as tears stream openly down your face. You chant desperate pleas against him even though you know it’s too late, even as the roof finally caves in, burns down the only place you ever called home. You cry out in a wordless despair, your voice cutting through the silence that has engulfed the crowd behind you, kept at bay by Ghost and Gaz atop their dark mares.

“Please.” You beg once more, cradling your face in your hands as tears slip through your fingers. “König...”

“Rotty. Beloved Rotty.”

You loved him. Truly. Endlessly. Now he’s gone.

“Red!!” Laswell cries from behind you, and at once she’s at your side, arms around you as Soap releases you into her hold. You sob openly into the embrace, cling to her like a child in your despair. Laswell holds you, rocks you, but then at last holds you at arm’s length.

“He’s not there.” She tells you in a rush, eyes open with desperation. “The villagers said there was nobody inside. He’s alive.”

You stare at her through wet lashes, feeling the heat of the flames lick at your cape like the pyre that beckons you. It takes a moment to process her words, but when the realization dawns at last you clutch at her, face open with hope and terror.

“W-where is he, then?!” You beg, voice cracking. “Is he safe?”

Laswell’s face pinches in an expression you don’t understand.

Then, she looks to the woods.

It’s in that moment that a howl splits the sky.

Silence falls over the village as you all tense, looking towards the misty tree line just as the full, yellow moon appears atop the trees.

You’re out of time.

It’s Price’s voice then, that cuts through the silence that follows.

“Listen!” He calls out, voice thunderous, drawing all eyes towards his towering figure atop his anxiously prancing mare.

“The werewolf will be here soon, and when it comes it will tear this village to shreds. None of you will be safe when it does. Not unless you listen, understood?”

You watch the villagers look at each other anxiously, murmuring to themselves until a voice cuts through the crowd.

“Feed the witches to the wolf! It’s the only way!”

“Shut it!” Gaz snaps venomously from beside Price, unsheathing his sword from its scabbard- only for Price’s hand to shoot out and stop him. He nods at the younger man, who simmers with anger, his eyes dancing with fury in the light of the fire. Price turns once more to the crowd.

“These two women are under our protection!” His voice booms, gesturing to you and Laswell, Soap just before you, bristling with his teeth bared at the threat before him. “If anyone dares to lay a single hand on them, I’ll slice it off and feed you to the wolf. You will die a bloody, agonizing death, I promise you that.”

You watch the man who shouted the threat take a step back, aghast at Price’s words.

“It was Laswell who summoned us here to kill the monster.” Gaz interjects, seething. “and Red who guided us through the woods in search of it. You owe them your lives, you ungrateful swine.”

He urges his horse forward a single step, just enough to make the crowd step back, as Price barks at him to get back in line before turning towards the villagers once more.

“I want everyone in the village hall!” He declares, voice rough, overshadowed by the sudden shattering of a beam behind you as your house folds in on itself. You flinch into Laswell’s arms, feel her hold you tighter protectively, tucking your head away from the sight of your ruined home. “All able-bodied men are to grab a weapon and meet me in the square!”

The group hesitates as the bravado of some of the men evaporates in the face of the threat the wolf poses, muttering between themselves and sharing furtive glances. Price waits for them to come to an agreement, and when they don’t his voice carries over them once more.

“We were called here to protect you!” He announces, voice rising towards the inky clouds that roil past the moon. “If you wish for us to leave we will do so right now and leave you to the mercy of the beast.”

You watch a shudder run through the group, hear several gasps as they protest. It seems to settle Price, who nods with resolve before nodding towards the village hall.

“Go!” He bellows, voice thunderous. “There isn’t much time. Women and children inside. Men outside. Now!”

The townsfolk finally heed Price’s words and scatter in the direction of their homes to grab belongings, children, weapons. Price watches them, and once more casts a long look at the tree line before turning to the rest of you. You break from Laswell then, rush forward to grasp at the captain’s stirrup in desperation.

“Price.” You gasp, throat still not clear of your cries. “König- he’s in the woods. The werewolf will kill him. You have to go help him. Please.”

Price looks down at you, and you freeze at the sorrow in his gaze, the grief he unfolds for you.

“I’m sorry, Red.” He tells you, voice quiet. “It’s too late.”

You freeze, face falling open with your horror as you process his words.

He’s leaving him to die.

“N-no-” You try, voice cracking, grasping harder at his saddle. “No he’s- he’s somewhere nearby. He couldn’t have gotten far. We just need to look for him, I-I can’t leave him-”

“We need every person here.” Price tells you gravely. “The wolf will strike where there’s the most blood to be found. We cannot risk a search party, not with so many souls gathered here in the village.”

You stare at him, tears once more obscuring your vision as a plea dies in your throat. When Price pulls away, you jerk back as if you’ve been burned. The motion sends you straight into Laswell’s arms once more. She hauls you to her, pressing from behind you and cradling her nose against the bite mark that still lays against your skin.

“I’m sorry, Red.” She whispers. “There’s nothing more we can do.”

There’s a protest of despair that flutters helplessly in your chest, and you want to scream, to shout, to cry out for all things gained and lost in the pale moonlight cast down upon your lonely figure.

Memories surface unbidden as you stand stiffly, gazing at the sky.

König, frightened and injured, hid in the hollow of a tree. König, who had accepted your aid, offered you his name in a gesture of trust. König, who had gently placed his palm in yours, had offered quiet companionship near your hearth. König, who had snuck longing gazes at you, eyes glinting from the flames. König, who had held you safe from the world, who had cared for you so tenderly and protected you so fiercely. König, who had pressed you into bed with endless murmurs of devotion, who had called you by his name for you, who had laid claiming marks into your skin to show you were his. König, who had promised to stay so you would never be alone again.

“Laswell.” You speak in a raw whisper, watching the others gather in grave conference with their backs turned towards you. “I can’t leave him.”

Laswell tenses at your back before she at last releases you, turns you to face her. Her hair catches the glow of the flames, gray eyes soft and burning as they peer into the depths of your heart. She holds you there, hands clinging tightly to the cape she once bestowed upon you as a gift of her affection towards you.

“There’s one more thing.” She tells you, and in her voice you hear prophecy, the magic she keeps in careful concealment. It winds around you like brambles, a protection for the soul inside you striving towards something you’ve desired all your life, something which remains so close and just out of reach, residing in the woods you’ve always called home.

Laswell gathers you to her, and whispers words in your ear you don’t yet understand, holds you tight like she would a daughter. You think for a moment she’ll refuse to release you, will prevent you from the terrible act you are about to commit.

She releases you, gray eyes gleaming. She looks towards the turned backs of the witchers you’ve come to befriend, the ones who will now abandon you in your greatest time of desperation.

“Go.” Laswell whispers, and you take a step back, resisting the urge to throw yourself once more into her arms. Instead, you turn towards the forest, towards the cradle of the woods that has kept you safe your entire life. You turn towards the groves that hold secrets and danger, the woods that now hold your beloved as a prisoner, awaiting the fatal bite of the monster that haunts your nightmares.

You run for the trees, and you don’t look back.

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auteurdelabre · 5 months

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Something to Fight For (Series) Part 18 Joel Miller x f!Reader

Rating: 18+ THIS CHAPTER'S TRIGGER WARNINGS: Emotional Abuse, Childhood Trauma, Drug Addiction, Mentions of Death A/N: I rewrote this fucking chapter about 8 times. I'm still not sure how I feel about it. It was a real hard one to write, ya'll. A lot of my own shit is mixed up in there with the story. MC is part me after all (and part all of you). So it was hard. Harder than I think I expected it to be. So I dunno how it ended up. Couldn't re-read it too much. I really need your reviews on this one folks. It's real important to me, 'specially now. I need to know how you feel, the good and the bad. I gotta get this right.

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You're overcome.

There's no other word for it. You've been sobbing in your shower for the last hour. After running from the barn, taking a taxi home and bursting into your suite you immediately fell to your knees, the warm water pelting down onto your back.

It's as close to being held, at being soothed that you can manage right now.

You can’t stop replaying tonight’s events. The song Joel chose. The one of longing and deep yearning.

"She may be the reason I survive

The why and wherefore I'm alive

The one I'll care for through the rough and ready years"

But also of a love gone by. A regret.

"She may be the face I can't forget

A trace of pleasure or regret"

Is that how he views you? A love gone by?

Of course he does.

Paul's engagement ring is in the velvet box it came in. It's being returned tomorrow. You'd have done it tonight if it weren't so late.

You need to end things. It's the only way forward. No matter what, no matter if Joel is in love with Tess, no matter if you'll never be with him, you *can't be with Paul.

You don't love Paul. It's obvious to everyone including yourself. It's been obvious for so long. You've wasted so much fucking time and energy on him.

You think of all the boxes packed here, the ones you were going to move to Leander. You think of how strange and sad it is that your whole life can be put into less than twenty cardboard boxes.

And even though Joel can't be yours and even though that hurts more than words can begin to say, you are so fucking grateful for him. You are so grateful you met Joel Miller because he's shown you what love is. True, caring love.

Even if it's not yours to keep.

You will never forget the way he looked singing tonight. The goodbye song from his heart to yours. You'd felt it. The bittersweet finality of your time.

More tears are coming.

"I love him," you say to the tile in front of you. You need to hear the words spoken out loud in the universe, even if it's hidden in the fall of the shower and heard only by you. "I love Joel."

You need to see Joel. You need him to hold you. Need his calming presence. You need to wrap your arms around him and press your face into his neck and just feel breathe that sweet, spicy scent of home.

He's not yours.

You don't get to see Joel. You don't get to have him. He's Tess'. You can't be his friend, you want him too much. So what does that leave?

That leaves you replaced and alone.

You pull yourself from the shower, shivering as you towel off, drying your hair the best you can. You go to your dresser and pull out one of the few remaining pieces of clothing there.

Joel's shirt.

You've washed it so it doesn't smell like him anymore. Doesn't smell like the laundry detergent he uses or that wood shavings scent he sometimes carries. But when you put it on it feels like he's there in some small way. You pull it on over your sleep shorts hiccupping a soft cry.

You remember so long ago, standing in Joel’s den as you pondered if he just played guitar or if he sang as well.

“S’weird how something can make you feel so good and then outta nowhere become the pain”

That’s how it feels now. Joel, the thing that makes you feel good has also become the pain. The wedding is tomorrow. You need to collect yourself by then. You'll see Joel and you need to be controlled. You need to be okay. You need to not ruin this for him.

Because you do love Joel. You love him in a way you never expected to love or be loved. You love him so much that you are determined to make his life better. Determined that you will not take away what he has carved out for himself.

You crawl under the covers, your face buried in the pillow.

"I l-love Joel," you whisper it again into the pillow only now it's broken by sobs. You curl up under the covers, your body trembling. "I love him I love him."

You feel lost. So hopelessly lost.

And then the phone rings.

///

It's late in the Miller house. Quiet. Sarah's been asleep for hours thanks to the sugar crash Bill's cupcakes provided.

Tommy's asleep in the basement apartment, exhausted from the evenings festivities and anticipating a long day tomorrow.

Or, as Joel glances over at the bright neon numbers of his digital clock, later today.

He's laying in bed, one arm behind his head, one hand over his sternum as he stares at the ceiling. In this pose he feels every breath in, every breath out. The studying rhythm bringing him peace. It's impossible to shake the image of you free from his mind.

He'd done it out of love for you. Out of a need for you to know how much you'd changed him. Changed his heart, his outlook, even his fucking idea on the concept of romantic love.

But the look on your face? The way it had fallen before you had dashed out?

Sarah had been bouncing up and down in her seat when he finished his performance, hugging him tightly and throwing things at him as he tried to contain his disappointment ("Daddy you sing so pretty!" And "Daddy will you teach me guitar?") Everyone was clapping him on the back, telling him it was wonderful, so romantic, that Tommy and Maria loved it.

He refused to let his eyes search for you, knowing you were gone. He refused to let his heart believe that you'd come back.

Joel knows he has to stay away from you.

Knows that singing tonight was a terrible idea because not only did he make it so obvious to everyone that he’s so deeply in love with you, but he also made you cry.

Watching your face crumple, watching the way your eyes fell to the ground at the last string. He’d thought you’d be happy singing, Maria had said how often you’d felt happy when you did. But that wasn’t happiness he saw tonight. It was pain.

Joel doesn’t know what to do. He feels so lost.

And then the phone rings.

///

"Joel, I need you."

Four little words over the phone at 2 am.

Four little words that have Joel stumbling out of bed, murmuring he'll be there before he's pulling on his jeans and a t-shirt.

He's half asleep, his mind whirring. He goes to the basement, rapping on the door. An equally tired Tommy answers, blinking in the light.

"She- I gotta go," Joel tries to explain in a rush. "I'll explain later. Can you come watch Sarah?"

Tommy gives a few bleary eyed blinks before nodding and following his brother up the steps.

Tommy settles himself on the sofa as Joel runs out the door. And all the younger Miller can think before he falls asleep is:

Finally.

///

Joel's shoulders nearly take up the doorframe. You notice this when the rap of his knuckles pulls you sniffling from the sofa and you open the door to him.

His eyes are sleepy, but wide. His hair is tousled from sleep and you can see the indent of his pillow faint in his left cheek. He scans your face, concerned.

"Are you okay?"

"I'm so sorry," you say as soon as Joel takes a step towards you. "I never should have called so late. I’m so so sorry, Joel."

"Just let me in," Joel insists, his hand coming to go to your cheek and then dropping. He doesn’t want to overstep. "Tell me what happened."

You try to make the words come out; you force them crackling and trembling out into the world.

"I don't want... I don't want to go back."

Joel doesn't have any context, but that doesn't stop him from rushing in. He closes the door behind him gently before bringing you into his arms. Your forehead drops against his sternum as he does this, your tears warm and free flowing.

As he rubs a soothing hand along your spine he realizes you're wearing his t-shirt again. For some reason this small thing makes Joel's eyes wet.

You're so warm in his arms, trembling against him as you hold in sobs. He wants to kiss away the tears rolling down your cheeks. He wants to carry you to bed and strip every bad memory and experience from you with his mouth and body.

That's not what she needs right now. She needs a friend.

He takes your hand in his, leading you to the sofa. A place where you can talk. The fireplace is on, bathing you in a warm flickering glow that makes his breathing hitch when he glances over at you.

Your eyes are puffy, your nose red and he thinks you might be the most beautiful thing he's ever seen.

He can't help himself but reach for you, bringing you to his lap as he sits. There's nothing sexual about it, just the need to hold you close, to make you feel safe there. Your arms wrap around his neck and he rocks you, his arms banding around your waist.

"Honey," Joel whispers into the crook of your neck. "What's wrong?"

Honey.

You melt into him just as easily as the word. This was a terrible idea. What had you been thinking? How could you ask Joel here?

Because of the song, your traitorous heart cries. Because you love him! Because his face is the first one you want to see!

You hold him tightly to you, unable to break from him just yet. Unable to tell him the awful ugliness. Instead your mind drifts to the rehearsal dinner. Your hand plays with the fabric of Joel's shirt, twisting it under your fingers.

"Joel . . . The song."

Immediately he tenses and you can't see his face, but you can imagine it. Eyes nervous, mouth hooked slightly to the side. The same way he’d held his face that night in his den, your hand around a glass of soda.

"Maybe one day we'll have reason to make music again.”

Joel smiles softly around his glass. "Maybe."

"Did you like it?" he murmurs into your hair. You can't help but hold him tighter, your eyes filling. He sounds so unsure of himself, so worried about what you’ll say.

"Yeah, I loved it. It was beautiful."

You feel him physically relax in your arms at this admission. The tension, the uncertainty is drained from him. You force yourself not to tilt your face to his, not to search for his mouth with yours.

"I thought you didn't play anymore,” you tell his shoulder.

"I don't. One time performance I guess. Shoulda charged for tickets."

There, the humor you both needed to break the intense spell that weaves itself when you're in Joel's arms. You're thankful to him for that. Now you can pull back, still seated in his lap, but in control of yourself.

"I hope you keep playing forever."

Joel smiles wistfully at you, nodding. You let his dark eyes search your face. You let his hand cup your cheek, his wide thumb brushing away the tears there.

"I never told you about why I went back to Chicago," you sniffle. "Why I didn't call."

"You don't have to tell me," Joel insists. "It doesn't change why I'm here. I'll stay here all night just holdin' you if it's what you need."

He doesn't want to push you, doesn't want you upset because of him. This time in Chicago, the separation, it feels like an ugly part of your shared history that he just wants you both to forget.

"No, I want to tell you," you say in a sorrowful voice. "You deserve to know everything."

Joel nods and he wants to keep you there in his lap. But you shuffle back from him, sitting across from him on the sofa. It takes several minutes of staring into the flames of the fire before you feel you can begin.

"My dad has been in and outta the hospital a lot," you explain, looking at your hands in your lap. "It's because he's waiting for a liver transplant."

Joel is shocked. The way you spoke of Chicago, of your family, he'd assumed your father was dead.

"The thing is," you continue, unaware of his shock. "He can't get one unless he stops using and, uh, he won't."

"Using?" Joel is still taken aback by the revelation, not thinking clearly.

"Coke and heroin mostly," you say with a wince. "He's a drug addict."

Your father has been a junkie for most of your life.

And it's in part because you exist.

The same year you were born he'd gone to a party without your mom. She was tired, still breastfeeding you and encouraged him to go out and have some fun.

He did.

The kind of fun that had started as a party drug passed around and ended with him burning through the family savings and growing gaunt in the coming years. The kind of fun that had him doing eight balls during your soccer games and shooting up on your graduation day.

You were four when he first went into rehab at the insistence of your mother. A few weeks before your fifth birthday he'd come home sober and ready to change his life back around. You hadn't really understood what was happening. You'd just been so happy to be a family again.

That photo on your desk, the one the flood destroyed, the one that meant so much to you is from the only birthday party of yours that your father ever attended sober.

In the passing years he turned to drugs again but he hid it well from you and your mother. You never knew the severity of it until you turned fifteen.

Until you came home one day from your part time job at the Chicago humane shelter to find him covered in piss and his own vomit and barely responsive.

He died on his way to the hospital, a full forty two seconds he was clinically dead. Until they revived him and he sputtered back to life. You remember all of this because it was you in the ambulance with him.

Your mother was at work, unreachable. Your dad's sporadic unemployment meant she worked two jobs.

So it was a fifteen year old you with tears running down her cheeks that watched this unfold, completely terrified.

You were sixteen when he got out of rehab for the second time and promised his life was changed forever. He and your mother had almost two years of no fighting - a change of pace for you who had grown up to their constant shouting matches.

You were eighteen when he relapsed at a friend's house party. Twenty two and twenty five when he went back to the various rehabs that your mother always paid for in more ways than one.

And then he just stopped trying in the coming years. Still using, but not enough for your sweet mother to kick him out.

It's like he's infected by some insidious being inside him. A forever hungry thing that takes and takes, warping your once sweet father into something subhuman. A being that is frighteningly underweight, hollowing his cheeks and making his eyes bulbous in his face. He isn't your father anymore, not really.

But he is. That's the worst part.

Because if he wasn't your Dad you could hate him.

You tell Joel all of this, it spills from you like a stream and he sits across from you, nodding and never speaking. When your voice hitches or the tears begin fresh he instinctively moves towards you on the sofa, stopped only by your raised palm. You need to get all of this out and if he holds you, you never will.

"That night you left, like, two hours later my mom called me to tell me that my dad had a really bad seizure," You shake your head, wanting to stop the memory. "And she sounded so scared on the phone and I just had to get back. I had to get there, back home to help. I was on autopilot."

Joel recalls the hollow look in your eyes when he went to see you that day.

"I know you came to see me but I don't even remember it," you tell Joel. "All I could think of was that I fucked up, that I should have been there in Chicago with my mom."

Joel is stiff, watching you without speaking.

"And I got home and it was just as awful as I thought it would be." You start to shudder at the memory. "My dad could barely talk. And when he did all he wanted to do was blame me for leaving. Telling me I was selfish for leaving my mom and him. Telling me that without me around to help pay for things that there was more pressure on him and my mom to afford their place."

You break off only to hold in a sob, breathing deeply and continuing.

"And he was right, you know. Coming to Austin for school was so selfish of me. I could've just as easily gone to school back in Chicago." A look of disgust crosses your features as you talk now to yourself. "So fucking selfish."

"No," Joel's voice is quiet but firm. "That's not true."

You're ignoring him though, so caught up in your own devastation. Your eyes are shut tightly and your head is giving short jerks.

"I just run from everything, Joel. I ran from Chicago and I ran to Austin because I thought that if I kept running far away enough that, that his ugliness could never touch me. But it lives in me, Joel. That ugliness is in me forever."

Joel's eyes have grown glassy, even now he remains sitting there looking at you with unending patience and his hands twitching to hold you.

"I stayed there for a month,” you continue, not even aware that your head is tilted so low Joel has to lean forward to hear. “A month of my dad telling me I was selfish. A month of my mom trying to tell me that it's just his disease talking. A month of seeing your name come up on my phone and wanting so badly to talk to you but just thinking about how horrible I was and how you and Sarah deserved better."

You force yourself to breathe between sentences, your air hitching in your chest. Joel is staring at you, his eyes swimming over your features. Horrible? You?

"So when I eventually got back to Austin I was just so fucking sad, Joel. So tired. I couldn't get out of bed. I didn't want to be around anyone. Not you, not Sarah. I couldn't do that to you guys." You swipe at your eyes with the wrist of your sweater. "I should have called you and seen you but I was so selfish only thinking about me and how I felt.

Your eyes jerk open when you feel the warmth of Joel's hand on yours. He's leaning across the sofa, his wide hand placed gently over yours. A thumb gently strokes your knuckles.

"No," Joel breathes in a voice of gentle warmth. "Never selfish. Never. It was me that fucked up."

"No."

"Yes," Joel tells you and you can see the way his dark eyes are damp. "You are the least selfish person I've ever met."

"Oh yeah?" you challenge, your chin wobbling. "You know why I called you tonight? Because my mom just called to beg me to come home again. Apparently my dad's saying that if I move back to Chicago that he'll go to treatment again. That he'll stop using. That he'll be able to get the transplant."

Joel's eyes widen but he remains silent.

"And I don't want to go," you say, lips trembling. "I don't want to go back there. I don't want to fucking go even if it would mean helping because I'm a horrible, selfish cunt."

The sobs that burst out of you are pure anguish that you muffle in a pillow to keep Maria from hearing all those floors above. Joel is physically holding himself back, dying to embrace you but giving you your space.

All he can do is stroke your head, desperate to convey all of his care and affection for you through the gesture.

"He was always promising he was going to get clean," you say hollowly, moving away from the pillow and Joel's touch. "And my mom, she just, she just kept carrying on like there was hope. But there is no hope. Just this endless, bleak, fucking pain."

Your eyes meet his and you're overcome. You stand abruptly, feeling the scrutiny of Joel as sharply as if he were stabbing you.

"Joel, just go. I'm sorry I called. This was a terrible idea to have you come here. This isn't your problem. I'm so fucking sorry."

Joel stands and for a moment you think he's going to leave. You think that might be a relief because you're feeling too vulnerable, too exposed.

You aren't expecting Joel to quietly close the distance between your bodies and wordlessly pull you into his arms. You're shocked more however at how willingly you allow this, how easy it is to fall back into his embrace. To tangle your arms around his neck and hold him as tightly as you can. He's warm against you, his cheek resting on the top of your head as you press your face to his shoulder.

"I hate him. I hate what he put my mom and me through." Your chin is trembling as you blink back the onslaught of more tears. "And I hate that I love him so much because he's my fucking dad."

Your hands are gripping Joel around the middle as he holds you, his broad shoulders curling, his arms tightening.

"I hate that I just want him to die," you cry through clenched teeth. "To stop holding on. To bring my mother some fucking peace."

More tears come.

Joel thinks of James and the cocaine and how upset you'd been. He'd thought you were justified in the way you'd acted, the heated punch across James slimy face for treating you so rudely. But now he realizes why you'd been shamed, so terrified of your own fury.

"And I hate that I'm just like him."

You break off as Joel's large hand is cupping the back of your head, and he's gently swaying you, the way a mother would a newborn.

"It's okay," Joel murmurs in your hair. "I've got you. I've got you."

You don't know why, but this quiet utterance from him is that breaks you, and the wall against him that you've built so high for yourself collapses. Heavy sobs break free from you, stark mournful things that you muffle in Joel's shoulder. They make your body jerk, causing Joel to hold you tighter against him.

"Shhh," Joel soothes. "Just breathe, baby. Slowly, like me."

He takes a few steadying breaths, urging you to match the slow pace. After a few shuddering exhales you do so, your breathing staggering into a steady, even rhythm.

"Good," Joel whispers. "Good."

"I'm just like him," you again whisper the words you've only ever thought into Joel's collar. "I'm selfish and horrible and -"

"You're nothing like that," Joel assures you, pulling you back so that he can look into your eyes when he tells you this. "Not at all."

"Really? What do you call what we did in your kitchen?" You scoff. "Knowing that we were with other people? Or how about when you pushed me up against that wall over there?"

Joel is silent, only his eyes move around your face while the rest of him is like a statue. He doesn't need to look at the wall to know what you're talking about.

"I can't stop wanting you," you say with a look of torment in your eyes. "I can't fucking stop, Joel. I try and I try and I can't. I'm just like my dad. I want what I shouldn't. I want what's only going to hurt other people and hurt myself."

"Honey-"

"I can't stop," you repeat weakly, trying to step back from him. "So I have to stay away."

Joel hands are on either side of your face again and he's peppering your face with soft kisses and everything in you wants to rejoice because Joel is here and he's holding you.

"Don't stay away from me," Joel's tells you as he rains compassion down on you. "Never."

You can't keep him. He's not yours.

Both of you are being incredibly selfish right now. Tess is probably at home right now taking care of Sarah and Daniel. Tess who was made to be a mother. Tess who understands Joel. What is wrong with you?

Selfish.

Horrible.

"Stop, Joel," you say twisting from him, out of his grip. "I told you all of this so that you can understand why I won't be around as much. But I'll call Sarah every other night, if she still wants to speak to me. And when I come back for visits I'll take her to the movies and-"

It's like Joel is only just now noticing all the moving boxes. He's glancing around as you talk, his eyes widening.

"You're not actually thinking of moving back to Chicago," Joel interrupts in a horrified voice. "You can't be."

"Just for a few months, just until he's settled in rehab-"

"No," Joel is wild-eyed shaking his head, his eyebrows saddling. "You can’t. You just. . . You can’t do this. You can’t sacrifice everything. Your work - that sanctuary. You won’t come back. I know you, you’ll feel like you have to take care of your dad. You’ll stay there."

"It's complicated-"

"It's not."

"Joel, my dad needs me."

"That was a horrible thing to lay on your shoulders," Joel says and he looks furious and sad all at once. "And I'm sorry for your parents, I really am, but no. You can't go. You can't do this to yourself."

"I have to go," you tell Joel. You falter, pulling back from him, needing to be out of his orbit.

Joel stands there as you pull back from him, looking so out of place in your suite with its low ceilings, the space almost emptied of furniture. He’s like this beam you can’t look away from, this tall broad angel with eyes that look at you as if you’re actually worth something.

He breaks off, uttering a pained "Jesus Christ" and you're sure he's going to yell at you about Paul just like Maria did.

You’re sure he’ll run from the room shouting that you’re selfish. Positive that he’ll tell you that you’re not worth all this hassle.

Instead Joel does something you're not expecting.

He crosses the room over to you and slips to his knees, holding you around the middle before he presses his forehead gently against your abdomen. It shocks you, this action and this pose from him. He sits like this in silence for several minutes, holding you, breathing against you in heavy shudders. Your hands are on his broad shoulders, glancing down at him in confusion.

"I'm so sorry," he finally whispers, a little murmur against you. "I'm so sorry I wasn't there."

"I didn't need you to be," you insist, your hand going to his neck, urging his face up to look at you. He won't move his face from where it is lodged against your stomach. He can’t.

"But I should have been," Joel insists, his voice a low rasp.

“It was so long ago.”

Almost six months since the awful incident. And you don’t carry it with you, not like Joel apparently has because now his head tilts back from your abdomen.

"I never should have walked away that day. I should have stayed. If I had none of this Tess and Paul shit would have happened. I would’ve gone back with you to Chicago." Joel's voice sounds thick with escaping emotion. "I ruined us."

His beautiful eyes open and you watch as tears slip down his cheek. You suppose that's what makes you freeze up, your heart sinking. You've never seen Joel cry before and the sight is as shocking as it is heartbreaking.

"Forgive me," he whispers brokenly. "Please."

You can see the anguish in his features and realize he's been living in it since you got back. This hellish landscape of grief and regret. He's been wearing it like armor weighing him down.

"Nothing to forgive," you tell him honestly, your knuckles trailing down his cheek to wipe the tears away. "Joel it was never a matter of fault. It was just how things happened."

His head drops against your stomach again and you can feel his strong shoulders begin to quake jerkily.

"I was fucking weak."

"You were human," you reply, rubbing at his shoulders, wanting to soothe him as much as he wants to soothe you. "You couldn't have known."

"I just left you there, all hollow and quiet and I walked away," Joel's voice is ragged. "I should have stayed. That's what you do when you love someone."

Love.

It hits you with a strong, visceral acuity. Starting in your rib cage and then spreading outward, causing everything in your body to wake up. It makes you breathless to hear it, though you've long suspected it, secretly hoped for it.

"Joel-"

"I'll never stop being sorry for it," Joel tells you simply, his face tilting up to look into yours. "Never."

Without thinking your hand is gently carding through his tousled curls. His eyes shutter closed as he leans into your hands. The moment is overwhelming in austerity and you need to break it.

"Not even if I asked nicely?" you say with a teasing lilt to your voice.

His eyes open and he gives you a small, watery smile before he stands. He towers over you again, taking your face in his wide hands and now it’s you leaning into his touch.

"I'd do anything you asked."

And all at once you know he's going to kiss you and that you want him to.

He tilts his head forward and lips move over yours so gently that you sigh into his mouth. Your entire body sags towards him and instead of the fervent kisses from not that long ago, this kiss is different. It’s soft and sweet and unhurried. His soft lips move over yours, taking time to memorize how your pliant mouth moves under his, the way you inhale softly when you break apart, his wide hands still cupping your face.

Tess.

Marmalade.

Selfish.

"I'm sorry I called," you sniff, tilting your face from him. "I never should have done that. You should go, Joel."

"You want me to go?" Joel's voice is a low aching sound. You can't look at him. You can't look into those intense, beautiful eyes of his so instead you face away from him.

"Yes."

You feel yourself floundering, that unmistakable voice in your head screaming to run. Run from the conflict. Run from your feelings.

Run. Run.

"You're lyin'," Joel insists.

"I'm not."

You feel his strong fingers on either side of your chin, dragging your face to meet his. But still your eyes remain closed.

"Look at me."

You shake your head the best that you can in his grip.

"I can't have you here, Joel. I'm sorry I called you, it was wrong.”

Joel's hand is flying to slide around the back of your neck. "Stop."

"You’re with Tess," you insist with a shake of your head, pulling back from his sweet touch. "She's perfect for you. She'll make the best mom to Sarah. It makes sense, Joel. You have to see that."

"I broke it off with Tess," Joel bites off. “I don’t want Tess.”

Your eyes fly open."What?"

"How could I keep dating her? I knew I couldn't stop wanting you. I never will." Joel feels his neck growing warm. "And she told me what she asked you to do, to stay away from Sarah."

You nod brokenly, feeling the tears gathering just at the memory compounded by this new guilt.

"Why would you do that?"

"Because I just want what's best for you and Sarah. A chance at a real family."

You've ruined this for him. Joel's chance at a family, something for himself. Something for his own. Selfish like your dad.

"Go back to Tess, Joel. Tell her it was a mistake."

"I'm not gonna do that."

"You have to, Joel. She wants you."

“And you don’t?”

It hangs there, the truth between you. If you admit it, it’s over. Any pretense you would have carried is gone. He’ll choose you because of this unknowable, untenable connection. But you’re not good for him. You’re not the kind of woman Joel Miller needs. You’ll take and take from him, leaving him with nothing in the end. It’s how your father operates, and you are your father’s daughter. Your engagement isn't even officially off. You're moving to Chicago. So what? You'll confess you love Joel? Make him feel compelled to follow you to Chicago? And what about Sarah? You're going to disrupt her life too? How is that not the most selfish thing in the world?

“No.”

Saying it physically hurts.

You love Joel. You love this man in front of you. And it’s precisely that love that sends you pushing back from him. But you’re stopped by his hand on the back of your neck again, holding you there.

"Don't," Joel says through clenched teeth."Don't stand there and lie to me of all people. You wanna lie to yourself? Fine, but not to me. Never to me. I don’t deserve it."

It is. It is a fucking lie.

"Tell me the truth," Joel urges gently, pleading. "Tell me to my face that you don't want me as much as I want you.”

You try to form the words that tell him exactly that, but you can't.

They don't exist.

Joel nods in understanding, his warm eyes even warmer. But he can see the fear in your expression, the panic.

"Just let me take care of you tonight," Joel whispers, his thumb stroking your cheek. "Please."

You're trembling against his palm, tears coating your lashes. "Okay."

Joel seems surprised by your easy acceptance but he nods, reaching down to take your hand in his.

"Let's go to bed."

You follow him without question to the bed. He shrugs off his jacket, watching you watching him. You're eyes are owlish in your face, the tension clear. Joel brings himself up on the bed still dressed in his jeans and shirt. He lays overtop the sheet before bringing it back for you to crawl under.

You hesitate. There is nothing more enticing than the thought of Joel making love to you right now. But it feels wrong, rushed. Too many things going on in your mind.

"I just wanna hold you," Joel explains when he sees your eyes nervously move from him to the bed. "If that's okay?"

Relief floods you and you nod, moving under the covers of your bed. And all the aching loneliness, all the terror of being lost? It’s gone. It’s gone the second you snuggle up against Joel in your bed.

His broad hand moves through your hair gently, moving it back from your flushed face before stroking it in tenderly. He stares at you, barely blinking. You muse that you could have entire conversations like this, just staring into each other's eyes. That perhaps you're having one right now.

His eyes are so soft. How can a man made up of sharp angles and broad planes look at you with eyes so fucking soft?

"How can you look at me like that?" you ask blinking through new tears. "After everything I've told you how can you lie there and look at me like I'm not a piece of shit?"

"Because you're not," Joel replies swiftly. "None of what your dad did is your fault. How could it be?"

"If I was there-"

"He'd still be using," Joel tells you simply. "And he'd have a new thing or person to blame for it."

"Even if that's true," you insist. "I'm his kid. I should go back."

"You're telling me if I told a grown up Sarah she had to move back home to take care of me, even if I'd barely been in her life, even if she had a whole life somewhere else, you'd tell her she was selfish for not doing it?"

Your eyes widen. Sarah. Sweet, genuine Sarah. No, you wouldn't blame her. But that's Sarah.

"She's just a kid-"

"Same age as when your dad started." Joel's eyes are watery. "How come you're so unkind to yourself? Why don't you think you deserve good things?"

"A lifetime of experience," you reply darkly.

///

And for a moment there is sudden clarity for Joel that hits him in such a way he's shocked he never understood it as easily before.

In the job you chose, in the immediately natural way you were with the screaming Daniel, even quicker than you were with his sweet and calm Sarah.

In the way these animals, hurt and abandoned and ignored are so much more than just pitiful creatures that pass along your desk in files.

You see yourself in them.

You see yourself in their haunted eyes and terrible histories. You see it in the plaintive cry of the frustrated Daniel. In this world that turns its back and its ears to them you want desperately to embrace them, to hold them to you and communicate a perfect, unending love for them.

Because no one did that for you.

Your mom tried, Joel is sure of it. But love is hard to share when so much of it is reserved for a husband in constant crisis. When you're a frazzled mother working two jobs to keep your mortgage and your marriage and family together. Love is there of course, but it's not overt. Not like you crave.

The kind of love that Maria gives you without question. The kind of love Joel would give to you every fucking day if you said you wanted him to be yours.

"I know I have no right to ask you to stay or demand anything from you, but, fuck, please don't do this," Joel whispers earnestly. "Don't move back to Chicago."

You're silent.

“If you do you’ll never come back,” Joel murmurs, his voice full of so many emotions it would be impossible to pick just one. “I know you. You’d sacrifice everything for him.”

“I. . . I don’t. . .”

Your eyes are so heavy, almost as heavy as your heart. You’ve shared so much with Joel, brought up so many painful memories it feels like you’ve run a marathon. Your head tilts against the pillow.

"Go to sleep, baby," Joel tells you, holding himself back from kissing you. "I'm here. Just sleep."

When you finally fall asleep Joel continues to look at you. His dark eyes travel the curve of your cheek, takes in the length of your lashes and the way your mouth looks half open in sleep. He memorizes each part of your face knowing that this may be his only chance to do so.

You’re engaged. You still have that connection to your parents in Chicago. There is so much that exists in this world to take you away from him.

He still sees it this way, outside forces wanting to rip you from him, as if he has some claim on you. He doesn't care if Paul gave you a ring. You’re his. You’re his and he has never stopped feeling this way, even though he's tried. He doesn't know he'll ever stop.

He stops himself from kissing your sleeping mouth on more than one occasion during the night, desperate for that contact if this is really the end.

It can't be the end. It can't.

You sigh in your sleep, shuffling closer against him for warmth or for comfort. Joel allows this, his eyes skipping closed at the calm your nearness brings him.

I'll never ask for anything as long as I live. Just let her be mine.

He finally falls asleep with your soft breathing in the crook of his neck

#joel miller fanfiction #joel miller x reader #joel miller smut #joel miller x you #smut #dad joel miller #fanfic #fanfiction #joel miller #pedro pascal

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scary-lasagna · 3 months

Note

Headcanons of slenderman in his office working and his 5 year old daughter comes in and asks him if they could play the 8 pages, and so the daughter reader is giggling while running through the woods and collecting pages while slenderman laughs and playfully chases her and then it just ends super fluffy

i know this was sent in recently and I’m trying to go from old to new but this was so cute i just couldn’t wait

Slender

8 pages is a game he “plays” with his proxies often.

In reality, it’s a game of stealth, aversion, tracking, and other proxy enrichment tasks and activities.

This is where his dear daughter comes in.

Whenever Slender is working, Splendor is always the one to volunteer to baby sit. And he’ll walk her around the manor, sometimes carrying her, to get her out of the play room.

Sometimes Sally will accompany, and sometimes not.

But on a certain day, Splendor took her into the woods to watch how Slender interacted with the proxies. And while they think it’s slightly terrifying to be hunted by their boss, his daughter will only recognize him as her father.

She’ll get slightly startled, but then giggle afterward.

So, the little being meekly waddled up to his desk during his working hours, and presents all 8 pages made by various colors of crayons.

So they look anything like his territorial pages? Absolutely not. But does he love them with all of his heart? Yes. Of course he does.

He thought that was the end of it, but oh not so fast, Mr Dad! You have a game to play.

Since his daughter is so spoiled, and has such a hard time saying no to her, he finds himself being dragged outside by a pudgy hand.

He’ll set them up at child-height for her to find, and explain the simplified rules, which is really just a game of tag and easter egg hunting.

He’ll pop out from behind a tree, squatting close to the ground, and laugh as she squeals and runs away, clutching two pages to her chest.

His daughter is never afraid of getting lost, and neither is he, knowing he’ll always be able to find her.

She will run under logs, and hide in crevices of trees, and be one with nature as all children should be, no matter the species.

And Boo! A pair of hands grab her, and sweep her up as she still clings to her self-made pages. “I’ve got you!”

She can only squeal and choke out a string of belly laughs, too excited to say anything more comprehensible.

But oh dear! Shes slipping away! Right through his hands that are so conveniently close and safe to the ground so his daughter can sprint away at her full speed.

He could easily catch up in a few quick strides, but he wouldn’t dare ruin her fun.

5 pages had been collected before she decided to curl up inside a log, using her jacket as a pillow and the pages as her teddy bear.

Slender collected the rest of the pages himself, and discover his daughter tucked into natures own bed.

He’ll carry her home, tuck her into her own bed topped with a princess canopy she ‘had to have’ after seeing Sally’s, and frame the newly drawn 8 pages in his office.

Maybe when she grows up, he’ll have a teammate in the 8 pages against the proxies.

#creepypasta #creepypasta headcanon #creepypasta imagines #creepypasta blog #slender x reader #slender platonic #creepypasta x reader #child reader #slender daughter

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kaziwi · 10 months

Text

Accidentally holding his hand <3

Character(s): Zoro

WC: 667

Summary: You have to go looking for Zoro after he goes wandering in the woods

Note: i love zoro sm omg

It was around noon when you and your crew, the strawhats, arrived at a new island.

Everyone decided to go explore while you, Zoro, and Usopp stay behind and watch the ship. Nami made sure to tell you and Usopp to watch Zoro and not let him wander at all costs. You both assured her you wouldn't let him out of your sights....

You were feeling a little drained, so you told the two boys that you were going to take a short nap :P

A short nap turned into 3 hours....whoops 8)

You woke up to the sounds of Usopp panicking.

You went on deck and asked him what was wrong. He explained in a panic that shortly after you fell asleep, Zoro insisted on going on a walk.

Usopp tried to warn him against it, knowing Zoro would get lost, but Zoro brushed him off and went anyways. That was 3 hours ago, and Zoro could be who knows where.

You told Usopp that you would go in the forest and get him back before anyone (Nami specifically) realized he was gone.

You walked on a dirt path yelling Zoro's name throughout the forest. As you went deeper and deeper into the woods, it started to get more dark and scary. You wrapped your arms around yourself in a sorta self-hug and continued to call out for Zoro. Every small sound made you jump which caused you to walk even faster and not look where you were going.

You swore you heard something so you turned to look at your right, but kept walking forward...causing you to trip over something. You turned and looked over at what you tripped over, and it seemed to be...a leg???? Your eyes followed the leg up to the owners face, and it turns out the leg you tripped over was a sleeping Zoro's.

"Zoro! I've been looking for you for forever," you shout at him, playfully hitting him on the shoulder. Zoro cracks one eye open and looks at you.

"Oi (Y/N), what are you doing here?"

"LOOKING FOR YOU!!!"

After a bit of bickering, you were able to get Zoro up and started to lead him back to the Sunny. Your walk through the forest was far from pleasant as the small sounds and dark atmosphere started to get to you again. You jumped at the slightest sound, which didn't go unnoticed by Zoro.

Just then, a rustle came from the bush beside you, and you jumped towards Zoro, grabbing his hand in the process. Zoro was shocked by the sudden touch that it caused him to stumble back, causing you to both fall on the forest floor.

Out from the bush a small bunny crawled out and then scurried away. You both watched it run away before Zoro started laughing, "You were really scared of that little thing," he said in between laughs. You playfully hit him and you both got up, not letting go of each others hands.

You both kinda stared at each other awkwardly after that until he said, "So...are you gonna let go of my hand?"

You looked down at your intertwined hands and your face became red. Zoro smirked at this, but when you started to pull your hand away, he grabbed it even firmer.

"Actually....it might be better if you hold on to me, just so I don't wander off again," Zoro said with a slight pink to his cheeks.

The walk back started a bit awkward, but after a little you both got used to each others touch and walked with ease. The small sounds of the forest didn't bother you anymore because you knew Zoro was there to protect you. By the time you got back 2 hours had already passed, and as you approached the ship you could hear a angry Nami yelling at Usopp. You and Zoro both knew you were going to face her rath, but honestly you didn't care as your hands stayed locked.

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beautifulplaceofyouth · 19 days

Text

JJK FF/ROYAL GUARD

CHAPTER TEN | SERIES

Ch. 1

Ch. 2

Ch. 3

Ch. 4

Ch. 5

Ch. 6

Ch. 7

Ch. 8

Ch. 9

Ch. 10

When you keep bumping into your personal royal guard by accident not knowing he is your guardian angel

Pairing: Jeon Jungkook!fallen angel!royal guard! × fem!reader!virgin!princess

Word count: 2.1k

Rating: 15+

Genre + warnings: Fluff, paranormal romance, historical fanfiction, Kook being cold and mysterious, being his sexy self. Caring and possessive!jk! Really horny towards his princess, being a big seductive tease. Dead bodies - corpses and much blood. JK kills everyone who dares to hurt his princess. MAKES PROMISES TO BE SAFE. The story isn’t real, just my imagination running wild so just enjoy reading!

a/n: Finally a small update, guys! I will stop making excuses and will hope you will not kill me for vanishing like every time I promise coming back sooner but still...yeah. I hope you forgive me.

You were standing by the large window.

The castle’s walls seemed to surround you.

The windows let out on a long stretch of fields leading to the border of the woods.

Since your fallen angel left, it has been three hours since Jungkook disappeared. Three more hours without food; three hours without hearing news or seeing anyone besides the servants running around like little heads in a tornado.

It made you restless.

Your legs started moving before your mind did. The white dress was fluttering behind you while you walked through the corridor.

It’s been three hours.

Three more hours and no updates. Your thoughts were racing and your stomach was growling. But there was nothing you could do, nothing you can say, until Jungkook returns.

As you turned the corner into the hall where the servants and guards resided, you stopped suddenly. Something was wrong.

You frowned.

As you neared the palace exit, a witch-maid stopped you before you can leave further.

“I’m sorry, my queen but the king didn’t allowed you to leave the castle for safety reasons. We still are under attack,” the female servant said apologetically. “Please return to your chambers.”

She tried to take your hands, which you quickly pushed away.

What were they thinking?

That Jungkook would come back in less than ten minutes?

No. Jungkook wouldn’t. Not now.

He is probably dead. Killed by vampires, maybe. Maybe captured in battle and taken prisoner. What if he got hurt?

No. He’d never let a vampire touch him unless…unless…

You ran outside and searched in every part of the grounds. No sign of him anywhere.

Then why the hell haven’t you heard anything yet?!

‘I’m not letting any vampire near my guard,’ you thought fiercely. ‘And if they do get near my angel, I swear to God...’

Looking up, the sun is barely visible. A thin veil of clouds covering half the sky, dark grey.

There was no sign of any vampire in sight.

Where the heck is everyone if there is attack?!

Tears welled in your eyes as you sat down on the ground and leaned your back against the stone wall of the castle’s exterior. There was a small pond a few meters to your side, a beautiful blue lake reflecting the sky above it. The moon was hidden behind the clouds, casting an eery orange light over everything in the vicinity.

Your heart was beating fast, threatening to burst through your ribcage. Tears stinging your eyelids, you felt your cheeks getting wet.

You wiped your tears off angrily. You are being foolish.

Jungkook wouldn't be dead. He can fight for himself but he knows how much you love him and if something happened to him…

Oh god, please don't let something happen to him. He’s strong but he's too young to die. Please God, let him be okay. Let him survive.

Jungkook’s POV

The sun was setting when Jungkook flew over the woods of his territory with his sword in hand, prepared to defend his home.

As he descended closer, he noticed many vampires fighting against the guards on the other end of the forest clearing.

With the sharp edge of his sword ready to strike, he landed heavily between several vampires, sending them flying to different parts of the field.

His presence was enough to scare most of them away, leaving two vampires with their backs turned towards him who weren’t afraid of him whatsoever.

Without hesitation Jungkook lunged forward with his sword and stabbed one of the vampires in the back with all his force.

His opponent fell, unconscious and bleeding, but still alive.

Jungkook ignored him as he jumped to the other vampire, slashing his blade across his throat before landing behind the first one again to stab him in the back.

Two vampires had surrounded Jungkook.

One with blonde hair, the other with red. They charged at him simultaneously.

Jungkook dodged each of them with ease.

Suddenly, the blood lust filled air vanished.

A cold, piercing sound echoed through the forest.

In a matter of seconds, the second vampire was dead. His eyes staring wide open as if asking for help and pain. The red head also fell lifelessly onto the ground.

Blood flowing from his neck, he didn’t have a chance to scream.

Slicing remaining vampires in half, the blood was the only thing left on him when he finally finished. Seeing his guards dead, he could only watch them fall and the bodies turn pale and gray, their skin wrinkling and turning into dust.

The other vampires that were still around looked at him with horror and shock.

They wanted to run. They wanted to kill him.

But they couldn’t move, not a single muscle in their bodies dared to move; not even their hearts.

“You’ve been warned,” he snarled,” Attack what’s mine again, you will be taken as my trophies for all eternity."

The vampires began fleeing after that, screaming in fear and terror.

Jungkook took out the swords he used in the fight, sheathing them neatly once again, before turning to look around.

Death’s scent was everywhere. Blood was smeared everywhere, along with some pieces of flesh scattered throughout the area.

The bodies of his guards lay sprawled all over the ground. Their faces twisted and bloody, covered in dirt.

Jungkook closed his eyes, taking in a deep breath.

Now since the danger was gone, the only thought on his mind was you.

When he opened his eyes, he could already see you.

You were walking out of the forest, your face pale and frightened.

He didn’t need to look at you to know that the blood from these deaths must have affected you greatly. As if sensing him, your eyes met his, a look of complete devastation and sorrow filling their depths.

“Jungkook,” you whispered in fear, looking around the field as though searching for enemy still lurking by but there was no one left alive except for the king himself.

His jaw clenched when he spotted you, knowing you have disobeyed his order for you to stay at the castle. His guards haven’t stopped you from leaving and now you’re here, in the middle of the battlefield which is no place for someone like you.

Looking like an angel in a white dress, Jungkook looked ready to kill again when you slowly approached him.

The wind was playing with his raven hair, dancing through his bangs and causing small droplets of sweat to roll down his body.

He looked like a predator waiting for its prey to come close and bite it.

Your gaze flickered between the corpses laid on the ground, their eyes frozen in fear and pain.

Y/n POV

Seeing your angel in the middle of that made you realize how strong he really is.

The blood was on his armor and even his face scarf. His eyes were the only thing holding you steady as you dared to walk forward.

His chest was rising up and down.

“What are you doing here, princess?” he asked harshly, making your body shiver.

You looked down at the ground, ashamed of yourself.

Why were you so careless? You shouldn’t be here! It’s dangerous. Too dangerous to be out here alone!

How long have you been standing here? Did you hear the screams of vampires earlier? Did you hear them running away?

Did you hear them dying? Did you understand what was happening?

Your hands trembled as you looked at the bodies laying on the floor; lifeless.

“Answer me.”

He didn’t wait for a response, he grabbed your chin roughly, forcing your eyes to meet his.

“Princess. Why are you here? Answer me.”

You didn’t answer right away. Your heart thumping painfully inside your chest.

After a moment, you answered in a weak voice, “I just wanted to go for a little walk. I lost track of time and ended up here.”

His grip on your chin tightened and his lips curved in anger.

“You’re such a liar, love.”

Before you know, he kneels in front of you. Putting his sword on the ground, he takes your hands in his.

“You shouldn’t be here. What you did was dangerous. How can I protect you when you don’t listen to me? You would have been captured on the way here, possibly killed by those bloodsucking monsters!”

“I’m sorry Jungkook. But I just wanted to make sure no one hurt you. I know you can defend yourself just fine but…”

“It doesn’t stop you from worrying. And I appreciate it very much, but you don’t have to do this. I am stronger than these creatures.”

“But you don’t always have to be. You’ll get attacked by them sooner or later, you know. You won't be able to take them down with a sword on your own. Sooner or later, they'll find you.”

“No they won’t. This forest is protected by powerful magic. My kingdom is safe as long I’m here.” He explained, trying to reassure you.

“But not enough to attack this place?” You inquired quietly.

“Someone tipped me off. That’s why they got inside. No one without my magic permission can go through the barrier of this land. Its separates the human world.”

“So they can still be out there and continue to attack,” you said bitterly.

“That’s why I must kill them all.” Jungkook declared, determination in his voice.

Tears welled up in your eyes, threatening to escape and fall down your cheeks at any moment.

You quickly wiped away any evidence of your weakness before looking into his eyes with a determined look of your own.

Before you can chicken out, you step closer to him when he is back to standing position. His eyes darken when he notices the movement, his nostrils flaring when your scent washes over with the death smell all over the field.

It was like a flower has bloomed in the middle of the grave, filling his whole being with the sweet fragrance of your happiness and life.

You stood on your tiptoes while he stood on his, looking at him intently in the eyes.

His gaze never wavers. Neither does yours.

Neither of you breaks eye contact until finally you pull him towards you, hooking one finger underneath his mask, playing with the seam of the fabric slowly.

“What are you doing, darling?” His voice is husky, full of desire for you even it was wrong in that moment.

How can you touch him like this after he has slaughtered every vampire? He had blood on his hands and corpses still laid all around you so how come you’re not afraid to touch him?

“Making sure you’re not hurt,” you whisper, lifting his mask to reveal a strong jawline who can cut steel and lips that look tempting yet deadly.

He stares back at you, the intensity in his eyes making you want to drown in his eyes forever. He grabs your waist, pulling you against him tightly, his hand caressing your lower back, the heat of his palm seeping through the thin cloth of your dress.

“You’re making this harder for me, princess. You can’t stay here longer. It’s dangerous,” he says softly, leaning closer to you, his hot breath fanning your cold skin as he whispers.

"I don’t care.” You say, closing the gap between your lips and pressing them softly onto his.

At first, he tried to push you away.

But the minute you parted your lips to deepen the kiss, he gave up.

As your tongue ran along his bottom lip, tasting each other, you wrapped your arms around his neck while he gripped both sides of your waist.

He lifted you easily in his arm and you placed your legs around his hips, holding on tightly when you felt yourself getting dizzy and lightheaded.

Lifting up into the sky, you almost scream when you realize that he has intended to fly you back to the castle. His wings even through the mist shine with the specks of light that peeked from the clouds.

Not daring to look down because of your fear of heights, some minutes later you brace yourself for landing when he flaps his wings to stop his speed abruptly, causing you to cling onto him like a koala.

When he puts you down gently on your feet, you let out a soft sigh of relief.

Jungkook pulled you in his arms, cradling you close and soothing you as best he could.

“I’m sorry, baby. Didn’t want to startle you like that. I just can’t imagine you walking through that mess. It must have been terrifying.” He whispered tenderly, stroking your cheek with his thumb.

You leaned into his touch, melting at the sound of his deep, rumbling voice calling you baby in that loving way of his, feeling warmth blossom inside your chest.

Feeling safe. Protected.

“You need to stay indoors while I go back to finish the job. Someone still can be lurking in the shadows and watching us so we have to take precautions,” he says sternly, grabbing the hilt of his sword and taking a few steps backward as he looked behind him.

“Come back to me safe, please.” You pleaded.

He sighed as he turned around, walking towards you again.

He reached out to caress your cheek once more before giving you a soft smile.

“I promise you.”

You nodded as he took off with a flap of his wings. The air surrounding him seemed to shimmer with an ethereal glow, the wind caressing his skin like a lover as his figure disappears among the thick mist in the distance.

p.s. All images and gifs are not mine, some of the edits are mine edited but not every picture. All the credit goes to their rightful owners

DO NOT REPOST THIS WORK AS YOUR OWN BECAUSE THIS IS THE ORIGINAL OWNER’S STORY

If you like, please reblog or like the post so I can post the next chapters :)

#bts #jungkook #jeon jungkook #royal guard #virgin princess #Princess Royal #fallen angel #paranormal romance #bangtan boys #jungkook fanfic #bts fanfction #historical romantic fiction #bts fluff

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buff-muffin · 4 months

Text

ASL thoughts and head canons.

1. Sabo’s missing tooth he had as a kid didn’t actually fall out. He chipped it back when he was still living with his family. And his parents thinking that made him look disgusting and rowdy had the rest of the tooth removed before his adult tooth was even remotely ready to move in. Thus there was a gap in his teeth for ages. It started growing in when Sabo set sail.

2. Luffy loved using Ace’s freckles as a dot to dot. Both brothers heavily think he doesn’t have a fucking clue what animals he’s trying to conjure and Ace is getting sick of having to fight him tooth and nail every time Luffy finds a marker

3. In his early days of friendship with Ace. Sabo refused to believe that he could eat an entire bear by himself. He thought Ace was exaggerating like when someone says “I’m so hungry I could eat a horse” yet when he saw it with his own eyes he was horrified. Ace was also confused why Sabo didn’t want a bear to himself. But didn’t complain. Hunting one bear for the both of them and fighting over it was pretty fun. And scavenging berries for a desert never bothered them.

4. Sabo grew his hair out while he was a run away. He hated how it looked buzzed. And while he probably didn’t let it get any longer then his brother’s he loved the freedom. His mother cut his hair the second he was taken back home

5. Ace and Sabo hadn’t thought twice about bugs. Ace saw them as pests like the moths that would huddle around the candle light and Sabo was taught that they were gross. Luffy on the other hand adored them. He showed them bug fighting and showed them all sorts of cool and pretty bugs. He would also put beetles in his brothers’ shoes for fun but in the end they had come out of it for a new respect for bugs and a little bit more love-hate for Luffy.

6. Sabo tried to tell his adopted brother about his real brothers but he refused to believe Sabo was telling the truth. I mean beating up a giant tiger in the woods? Being made of rubber? Being able to eat 5 times their body weight in a matter of minutes? He thought Sabo was loony.

7. When taken back to his parents, Sabo refused to eat with his brother. Sharing a meal with someone made you friends and sharing a cup of sake made you brothers. And he wanted nothing to do with him.

8. Sabo was Dadans favourite. At first. Originally Sabo was… as well behaved as he was going to be around his brothers because that need to respect authority was so engrained in him. Though as he grew more comfortable with Dadan and trusting she really wasn’t going to kick him out other dumb things. He started joining in on the bullying Dadan band wagon. And she hated them all equally again.

9. Luffy and Ace find it absolutely hilarious how bad Sabo would get sun burnt in the summer. They would chase him around trying to slap him for hours. Dadan taught him how to make a remedy and over the years he gained a tan and freckles that he knew would have his bio dad blow a fuse.

10. Luffy always wants to be in fights of strength with his brothers to prove he’s strong. You know, arm wrestling. That weird thing were you put your feet together and push with all you’re might. And of course rough housing. But in the super early years of being a rubber man that was impossible cause his body would just. Bend. Arm wrestling? Womp womp no elbow for you. Foot wrestle? His legs fold like a piece of paper. He was humiliated and his face was bright red every time Ace and Sabo would laugh.

11. One of the best training methods the brothers had found for Luffy was actually made as a joke. Still completely pathetic at landing a damn punch Sabo jokingly said he should train by trying to catch bugs by stretching your arms. And after a lot of frustrated afternoons his aim did improve an alarming amount. Luffy to this day continues to train that way and he always thinks of Sabo when he does.

12. They never finished that bottle of sake they stole from Dadan. At the time they all thought the drink was absolutely putrid though drank their cups if it meant they were brothers. The bottle is still in the treehouse. Even after everything. It’s completely oxidised but the smell keeps animal from making their treehouse a nest so Ace and Luffy never minded all that much.

#unintentional Sabo favouritism #if there is a spelling or grammar mistake suck my metaphorical dick #asl brothers #no post time skip spoilers please #one piece sabo #sabo #luffy #monkey d. luffy #ace #portgas d ace #one piece #that little blonde boy could fit so much trauma in him #if you didn’t sunburn slap or foot wrestle your sibling are you even real?#one piece headcanons #asl brothers headcanons #Luffy and his bugs #rambles

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brains4brawn · 1 year

Text

Summer Camp, Football

I was so excited for science camp, it would be my last year as I would start college in the fall. The camp was huge and divided into four major sections; Arts, Sports, Science, and Space with Sports taking up most of the land. The different parts of the camp didn't mingle too much but every Fourth of July there was a gigantic celebration.

It was great seeing old friends and getting to bunk in one of the smaller Sci cabins. My best friend Jeff was assigned with me and we went over the catalog to see what classes there were for the seniors.

In the distance we could hear the rowdy football jocks. It was a trade off, the smaller more private cabins were on the outer perimeter close to the sports section, specifically the footballers. Jeff and I just ignored them while we made our schedules for the following 8 weeks. I started to unpack my huge suitcase into the dresser beside my bed, in the second drawer was a small football key chain with the camp logo emblazoned on it. I picked it up and got a slight static shock, I showed it to Jeff and he thought that some meathead must have forgotten it. We both laughed and well both got slightly turned on at the thought of one of those jocks sleeping in our beds.

The day went by quickly and soon we had our introduction dinner and met everyone in Sci. Soon though I was in bed, tired but excited for tomorrow.

Tomorrow came to early, I awoke at 4:19 am with tons of energy! It was like lightning had struck, i bounced out of bed and began to quietly pace hoping not to disturb Jeff. I decided to go outside where I heard grunting in the distance. I followed the sounds to a flat track woven in-between some cabins where some big jocks were doing an early morning run. One of them saw me and motioned to me, for some reason i went closer. This guy was stunning, he was shirtless and showing off his rock hard body. I felt my penis begin to tent as i drew close, He asked why I was here and I made up some story that my dad always takes me on early jogs and if i could join them. He looked me over and then said that any bro is welcome to join.

I got back around 6:30 my body sore but energized. Jeff was still softly snoring on his side of the cabin. I quickly went to the bathroom and took a shower. Jeff was just getting out of bed when I re-entered the bedroom, he rushed past me into the vacant bathroom, while he was getting ready I still was overcome with energy. I went to a spot on the wood floor and proceeded to do some pushups until I heard the shower turn off.

The next week flew by as I developed a new morning routine. Every morning I'd be up at 4am and jogging with Seth and his bros. They were all really welcoming, and I was having a great time just not thinking. Heck, Jeff even commented one day that I was looking healthier. It felt weird to keep this from my best friend but I know he wouldn't understand. Even though the guys here were awesome, Jeff had been bullied practically his entire life back home.

Afternoons soon became torture as my Sci projects were becoming harder to focus on. My body was brimming with energy and I couldn't wait for the two hours of free time before dinner. Jeff and I used to sit and watch the hunky Jocks play their different sports during the afternoon breaks but now I had the urge to join them. I feel bad for ditching Jeff but now I get in the water and go for a swim or grab some boots and go on a short hike.

Its been almost four weeks since camp started and I haven't felt this good in years. Every morning I get up and run with my bro Seth and the gang, then go and work out at the sports camp gym. By the time I get back to the cabin to shower and change Jeff is already gone. I feel bad for the little bro, he's obviously gay and a guy with my bod can't be easy to room with. It still kinda sucks that I'm in a Sci cabin but at least I'm not far from the rest of the footballers. After morning PT I go to strategy sessions and game history. Then the afternoon is spent playing touch footie with the guys.

The Fourth of July was a blast. All the different sports teams came together and we had scrimmages all day. The Sci Nerds showed off some dope looking robots and the Space Dweebs launched rockets. Later on the Theater Dorks put on a talent show, then came a cookout dinner BBQ. Lastly came the fireworks. As the sky was bombarded by the light, I noticed Jeff off by himself. Not wanting anyone to be alone I picked up my things and moved closer to him. Sitting next to him it was hard not to notice just how much smaller my cabin bro was.

At first he tried to ignore me, but fuck i am not someone who is ignored easily. I scooted my perfect ass up beside him and he told me to go away. I just sat there letting him get used to my presence, I felt an odd need to be protective of the little guy. I heard a sigh and then in a whisper Jeff asked if I knew how perfect I was.

Well duh, I am tall proportionally muscular and let's face it, any guy would be lucky to have a piece of me. Something awoke inside me, feelings that I knew were there but didn't want to admit. I was Mr. Popular, big man on campus, life of the party, but somewhere in the last month I had devolved a crush on this lonely nerd.

It was after midnight when Jeff and I got back to the cabin. I woke up with the little nerd spooning against my bod. Fuck it felt good having him next to me, my morning wood pressed against his back. Jeff woke up slowly and I felt the goosebumps as he realized his situation. His head tilted up and he looked into my eyes, I took the chance and kissed him gently..... which quickly turned into a passionate make out session... which....well, let's say the little nerd is one of the best cocksuckers ever. The moment I erupted into his mouth a slight bit of static electricity passed from me into him.

From then on we became inseparable. Jeff joined me for morning PT and came to support the team in our mock tournament with our sister campgrounds, while I tried my best to support his Sci shit. By the time we left, Jeff had put on some decent size and was getting along with all my bros on the team.

Epilogue:

Two men stand in the tiny cabin, marveling at how they'd spent so much time in such a cramped space. The taller man had just finished his second season in the NFL while his shorter husband had become the CEO of his own successful startup. The men stood there, reminiscing on how they met the summer before college and how they couldn't imagine life without each other. Jeff gave his husband's hand a squeeze before the two of them started their summers as owners of this special place.

#nerdtojock #reality change #male muscle growth #mentaltf #muscletf #personality change #muscle god #Ai art #Muscle4all #tf

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xdaddysprincessxx · 7 months

Text

Fear Thy Neighbor

Serial Killer Farmer Joel x librarian!f!reader

Warnings: Dead Dove/dark fic, horror! death, reader & Joel are both killers, animal death (it’s not explicit but more so just implied), p in v (protect your genitalia!!), face slaps,m/m kissing I think that’s it, let me know if I missed something, all mistakes are mine! Not edited or beta’d!

Summary: Its the fall of 1969, it’s been five years since Chesterfield had a string of murders linked to the Scarecrow Killer. New to town, you moved into a little trailer out in the woods near the infamous Farmer Joel and his famous corn maze. . .

A/n: yea yea I know I said farmer Joel was a one shot. Well he wanted y’all to have more of him so enjoy

Nothing but shades of red, orange and yellow as far as you can see stretch on for miles and miles on either side of the road your currently driving down. Time of the Season by the Zombies is flowing out of your car speakers as you hum along, thrumming your thumbs on the steering wheel. It’s 8:25 am and your on your way to the town library where you work. You recently moved to Chesterfield a few months ago after a nasty breakup. Needing to do some soul searching, you went on a drive that lasted hours and just so happened to come across this cute little town. Low on gas and a hungry tummy, you decided to stop at the local diner for some pancakes and couldn’t help but fall in love. Now here you are just a few months later, living in a nice little trailer out in the woods a few miles out of town, working at the library. You got to spend all your time surrounded by books and then went home to peace and quiet. Well mostly quiet. You’ve always had these rather loud thoughts in your head, these urges to hurt. To inflict pain. You never acted on these urges, burying it deep within yourself. But living out in the woods, you were finally able to let these urges win. Nobody is gonna care if a wild squirrel goes missing.

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Eyes popping open as a shiver runs through his body, Joel wakes up freezing. He goes to pull the blanket tighter around himself to fight off the cold. The heat must’ve stopped working at some point in the night judging by the way he can see his breath when he opens his mouth and let’s out a puff of air. Letting out an exhausted sigh, Joel reluctantly gets out of bed and starts to get ready for the day. He’s not very well versed in the mechanics of how to fix a heater so he’s decided to go to the library and see what info he can find about it.

The rumble of his truck engine roars as he pulls into the Chesterfield Library parking lot. Coming to a halt in a spot, he cuts the engine and gets out, slamming the truck door. Standing by his truck, Joel looks around, taking in his environment. He’s not a fan of having to come into town. Ever since he last killed in 1965 he’s been very leery of the townsfolk. Some might call it paranoia even though Joel knows there’s no way for anyone to trace the murders back to him. He is very thorough in his work, yet he can’t help but be suspicious of other people.

Walking through the doors, a burst of heat slapping him in the face. His eyes landing on a pretty little thing sitting behind the front desk, just off to the side. Your beauty stopped him in his tracks, just standing there, unable to take his eyes off of you. Someone clears their throat behind him, causing Joel to blink a few times to break the spell you unknowingly cast on him. He turned his head to see someone trying to get past him, Joel nods at the person as he moves out of the way. Scuffling his feet, he makes his way to the desk your sitting at when he clears his throat. You look up at him with these beautiful wide eyes and the prettiest smile on your lips, Joel almost forgets what he came here for.

“Hi - i um Hello. I am looking for books on how to work on heaters please.” He manages to sputter out, eyes darting every which way refusing to look you in the eye.

Your smile widens, “Hi! Ohmygosh! You’re Farmer Joel right? You have the famous corn maze I’ve been hearing about? Actually I’m pretty sure we’re neighbors! Haha! What a small world!” You ramble, noticing his eyes stop on your face with a look on his face that says he’s either got bad constipation or he absolutely hates people interactions and you won’t shut up, “oh heaters! Yes! Yea we have a whole section in the back on home repairs and such. You should be able to find something. It’s straight back and to your left, I can take you there if you’d like?”

Grunting, he shakes his head no, “uh n- no. I got it. Thanks.” He says in a gruff voice before walking off to the back.

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Sliding the key into your front door, you can’t wait to get inside and drown yourself in some wine after the day you had. Joel Miller. The Joel Miller came into your library and you spoke to him. Like actual words came out of your mouth and his ears heard them. Why are you like this?? He’s just a man! But he’s so stupidly handsome and hot and oh those salt and pepper curls of his and that patchy beard you wish you felt between your thighs all too often. You knew exactly who he was when he walked in this afternoon. Shortly after moving in, you decided to go exploring around in the woods and came across a barn. You saw the barn before you saw the nice little two story farmhouse off to the side a little ways away. Walking up to the back of the barn, you heard grunting and decided to take a peak into a crack in the wood. That’s when you first saw him. His back was to you as he chopped wood. He had a red flannel on with the sleeves pushed up so his forearms were on display. Sweat dripping down his neck as he pulled the axe back and swung down cutting a thick piece of wood in two. He dropped the axe and turned to the side as he wiped his brow. That’s the very first time you saw him. Lost in a daze you accidentally stepped on a twig, trying to get on your tippy toes to get a better look and he quickly snapped his head in your direction. Holding your breath, the both of you seemed to stop moving entirely. You staring at him and him staring back, even though you knew he couldn’t have actually seen you, you were still terrified he did. That night you couldn’t stop bringing yourself to ecstasy. Orgasm after orgasm, your fingers were all pruned from your juices after you were done.

Snapping back to reality, you fling yourself onto your bed. Looking up at your ceiling, you let out a long, exhausted sigh,

“What the hell is wrong with you? He is a fucking farmer for Christ’s sake. Not fucking John Lennon. Ughhh”

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It’s already a quarter past 4 and Joel still hasn’t managed to fix his heater. He borrowed several books that are now all strewn across his kitchen floor as he tries for the umpteenth time to fix this damn thing. On his knees, bent over, Joel’s cranking a wrench, using all his strength to get this damn bolt off. The wrench slips causing Joel to fall forward. Grabbing the wrench, he throws it across the room, “Fuck!” He yelled before getting up and stomping outside. He is furious! It shouldn’t be this hard to fix a stupid fucking heater! And of course he doesn’t have any more time to waste on it because he has to open up his corn maze. People are gonna start pulling in soon.

The rest of the night isn’t any nicer to the old man either. Had several teenagers come through being rude as hell. Although it’s been awhile, Joel is still so worked up he’s decided he’s gonna grab the last little group of teens going through and kill them to let off some steam. It’s already after 9pm and everyone else is gone. He starts off doing what he usually does, he turns off the outdoor lights before making his way through the corn stalks to grab his first victim.

It was three teen boys. Football players. With loud, obnoxious mouths on them and attitudes that clearly show they’ve never been told no a day in their lives. The first two were pretty easy kills. They had separated from the third boy, apparently to sneak in some alone time with each other. Joel found them making out under the moonlight. He struck them with a pitchfork, it went in one boys head and through the other boys head, getting both of them at once. As he’s dragging their bodies inside his barn, the third boy stumbles upon him. Joel immediately drops them and goes to lunge towards the boy. Joel isn’t young, he can’t move like he used too. But before Joel even makes it out of his barn, the boy suddenly stops as if he hit a wall and then Joel hears a thwack and the kid falls down with a sickening thud. Joel’s eyes go huge when he sees you standing on the other side of the kid holding a 2 x 4 piece of wood. Frozen, all he can do is watch you as you raise the wood above your head and bring it down, Thwack! Thwack! Thwack! The kids body laying there, his head resembles a pumpkin that just fell off the roof of a house. Blood and brains everywhere, you had blood splatter covering your face, brain matter covered your clothes, hands were a dark red. After the third bash, you drop the wood, stand up straight and look at Joel with those beautiful wide, doe eyes.

🔪🔪🔪🔪🔪🔪🔪🔪🔪🔪🔪🔪🔪🔪🔪🔪🔪🔪

It was late when you decided to go for a walk. You just so happen to find yourself walking up to Joel’s barn when the lights go out. You heard a faint slick squelching sound. You quickly run to the side of the barn and flatten yourself against the wall. You see a 2 x 4 piece of wood laying on the ground that you decide to pick up in case you need to defend yourself. With your back to the barn you quietly side step until your at the corner of the building. Taking some deep breaths , you finally get yourself it somewhat calmed before you take a peek around the corner. There’s a light on in the barn and that’s the only light source other than the moon. That’s when you see Joel dragging two bodies by the ankles towards the barn.

Oh my god. Joel? The man of your dreams dragging bodies? Does this mean what you think it means? Do the two of you share this little activity in common?

Before you think or say or do anything, some teenager comes running out of the corn maze and comes to an abrupt halt just a body’s length away from Joel. He looks absolutely frightened at what he sees. Joel immediately drops the ankles and raises his hands up in surrender, his brows raising before he lunges towards the kid. The kid takes off heading in your direction. Thinking quick on your feet you pop out of your hiding spot, stunning the young man before you thwack him in the head. His body falls to the side, hitting the cold, hard ground with a heavy thud. Unable to stop yourself, you raise the board above your head and bring it down hard on the kids head repeatedly. The thrill of decimating his head is just, ugh! The best fucking high of your life! The way his head just smooshes, the blood and the brains flying out. There’s just something satisfying about it.

Once you’re sure he’s deader than a door nail, you drop the board and straighten back up. A sigh of relief and a small smile lights up your face as you look at your little scene. You remember where you are and you look up and your eyes go right to Joel as he just stands there, staring at you with those big, brown eyes. A look of admiration and shock on his face, that’s when it hits you, he didn’t know you were here. Oops. Well now he knows.

Despite being covered in blood and brains, you take charge and walk right up to Joel, grab his face and plant the biggest kiss on his lips.

Joel’s shocked as hell. You’re the pretty little librarian from earlier. What the hell were you doing at his place? And what the hell just happened? The way you took that kid out was. . Well it was hot. Watching you beat that kids head in with this deranged look on your face made his dick throb. If he thought he wanted you when he first saw you, well then he’s gotta have you now and by the kiss you’re giving him right now, it seems you want him just as bad.

Your tongue pushes in between his luscious lips as you enthusiastically lick the inside of his mouth, tasting him. When you feel him return the kiss just as enthusiastic, you can’t help but let out a muffled moan. You were already horny thinking about the handsome farmer on your walk over here and then getting to act on an urge has you dripping wet. Joel wraps his arms around you as the two of you continue to lick and taste each other. You feel his hands move down and grip the back of your thighs, so you grab onto his shoulders and let him hoist you up, wrapping your legs around his waist. Joel carries you inside the barn, pushing you up against the wall just inside the door. Your lips on his never breaking the whole time. You grind your cunt onto the front of Joel, feeling his huge erection through his overalls. Joel breaks away, leaving a kiss on the side of your mouth as he trails kisses down your neck before biting down on the sensitive part of your neck and sucking.

You let out a loud moan as he bites down on your neck, gripping the curls at the base of his head. You can’t hold back any longer, you use your body weight and push against him, making him break the connection of his lips on your neck as he stumbles back. You land on your feet, gripping his flannel as he slowly stumbles back on his ass. Immediately you straddle his thick waist as he lands on his butt. You push the top half of him down on this little pile of hay he landed on, still gripping his flannel, you give him a devious smile

“You like this baby? Huh? You like watching me kill? Does that turn you on?” You say in a seductive voice as you lean forward, putting a hand around his neck, lightly choking him. Joel looks up at you with the horniest look in his eyes, so turned on he can’t form the words he wants to say. He lets out a moan like grunt at your question, licking his lips.

You give him this empathetic pout. “Oh poor baby. Look at you. Pathetic.” You pronounce that last word with venom laced in your voice. You raise your other hand and slap his face. Not too hard but hard enough his face turned to the side and his cheek got red where you hit him. He turns his face back to look at you, shocked.

“Use your words big boy,” you slap his face again, “You like this baby? You wanna fuck my tight cunt? Yea you do baby. I wanna feel that huge dick your hiding fill me up.” You say, a moan escaping as Joel thrusts up under you.

“Fucking hell girl, you keep this up I’ll give you this dick every damn day darlin’” Joel finally manages to say. Moving his hands off your hips, Joel scrambles to undo his overall straps to pull it down. Your quick to lift up off him and help pull them down to reveal his boxers that your quick to pull down, Joel lifting his hips to help you remove them.

You swear your eyes bulge out of your head when you see his cock. At least a good seven inches, decent girth and uncut. Your mouth drops open as you literally drool at the sight of him. Lifting up your dress, you spit in your hand and go to lube up his dick. You weren’t wearing panties since you took them off after work so you could finger your poor pussy relentlessly to thoughts of Joel. Gripping his cock, you sink down on his hard length, the stretch of taking him hurts so good. Your barely past the tip and already your eyes are rolling back. You’re no virgin by any means but you’ve only ever had one partner. And his dick was no where near the size or girth of Joel’s. You almost have to stop mid way down and take a deep breath so you don’t hurt yourself.

Joel’s big, meaty hands are gripping your hips as he bites his bottom lip trying his best to restrain himself from fucking up into your wet heat. He can tell by the look on your face he’s a lot to take. Finally you sink all the way down on his cock.

Letting out a moan, you’ve never felt more full. You clench your pussy a couple of times earning an unabashed moan from this big hunk of a man before he moves his hips up, pushing his cock deeper into you.

“J- Joel ohmygod I can feel you in my stomach! Ooooh nngh oh Joel fuck me!”

Joel puts his hand on your lower stomach and presses down as he moves his hips up, causing you to go up and down on top of him.

“Fuck darlin I can feel me in there too. You’re so tight baby f-fuuucccckkkk ride me darlin’ come on ride. this. old. cowboy.” Joel says, punctuating the last few words with a thrust. You manage to collect yourself, still on your knees straddling him, your hands finding purchase on his chest, you begin to rock back and forth before moving up and down. You find a rhythm going back and forth between the motions that feels so good. His cock kissing your cervix as your tight walls hug him. Joel puts his thumb up to your mouth and you take it, sucking his digit. The both of you groaning at the erotic moment. Joel takes his thumb out and moves down to your clit where he begins to rub small, precise circles around your button. It takes no time for your pleasure to build. Actually you were already rather close just from how good his cock felt penetrating you.

“Oh god Joel yes! Yes! Fuck don’t stop!” You yell as you begin to ride him harder, your pussy gripping his cock even tighter, “f-fill my cunt up! I-I want you deep inside of me baby! Please! Oh fuck please!”

Groaning at hearing you say you want his cum deep inside of you has Joel’s eyes rolling back. Just a few more circles on your clit has you over the edge, coming hard on his dick. You slump forward, laying your chest on his as he wraps his arms around you, holding you to him as he begins to thrust up into your wet cunt. Feeling your pussy spasm around his cock, it takes no time before Joel’s shooting his thick load deep inside of you. You lay your forehead on his as you both close your eyes, breathing heavily, coming down from your high.

“Darlin’ I don’t even know your name but I’d love to marry you.” Joel says with a chuckle. Giggling you tell him your name as you sit up and move to get up off of him. Your legs still jelly so you kinda fall over to the side and lay down on the hay pile next to him.

“When I saw you at the library today you took my breath away. You’re so pretty.”

You’re little post sex smile grew into a huge grin, “I have to be honest, I live not that far away from you. Not long after I moved in, I went explorin and found your barn and saw you chop some wood. I’ve had eyes for you ever since.”

Your little confession made Joel blush.

“Would you like to come inside my house? I can clean you up and I can put a pot of coffee on and we can talk? Unless you wanna leave?” Joel asks sheepishly.

“I would love too!” You say excitedly before placing a soft kiss on his lips.

When the two of you finally got up and went inside, you guys talked until the sun came up. You never did go back home after that. Soon his house became yours too.

A/n: they got married and lived happily ever after the end. Jk you’ll be seeing these lovebirds again thanks to @neverwheremoonchild for planting an idea seed in my head already lol anyways I hope y’all enjoyed! I appreciate all the likes/comments/reblogs! You guys are the best!😘♥️

Farmer Joel enthusiasts: @multiversed-daydreamer @patti7dc @neverwheremoonchild @beefrobeefcal @toxicanonymity @lumoverheaven

#serial killer Joel #joel miller #farmer Joel #pedro pascal #joel miller x reader #joel miller smut #joel miller x you #joel miller fic #dead dove fic #dark fic #spooky fic #spooky season #joel miller x female reader #pedro pascal characters #pedro pascal cinematic universe

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