#when I was younger and I never really left my childhood home. and I never grew up | Explore Tumblr Posts and Blogs

l0ngschl0ngking · 1 year

Text

Not his type

Javier Peña x f!reader

summary: you are helping at Chucho’s ranch and Javier thinks you are still definitely not his type

warnings: as usually SMUT ( vaginal fingering, oral -m!receiving, male masturbation, protected p in v, biting, hair pulling), cursing, soft!Javi - cuz that’s my favorite genre of Javi -, just a smudge of angst, mentions of bullying, mentions of food, fluff

word count: 10.5 k (I like them big I guess *wink wink*)

A/N: I planned to start my Marcus Pike fic but then this idea popped into my head and I just had to write it. This is basically just a long friends to lovers fic.

Javier Peña is not a simple man – far from it. He is bitter and hot-headed, and he feels small no matter what he does – he should have done better, he should have been smarter, quicker. He shouldn't have been such an idiot. Maybe then he wouldn’t be now standing in front of his childhood home. Maybe then...

But no matter what Javier thinks of himself he is a good man. He is caring and always wants to do the right thing – even if the consequences of his actions make him look like a bad guy. He doesn’t care – or he does but doesn’t let it show. Doesn’t want people to know that perhaps he is not as strong as he seems. Doesn’t want them to know that he cares – sometimes too deeply. Doesn’t want them to know he might feel – it's better if he seems unapproachable and looks like if you'd touch him, he'd burn you too greatly - so much that you would want to do nothing with him ever again.

So Javier feels the weight of all of his sins drop into his stomach when he keeps standing on the porch of Chucho’s house with a suitcase that he had packed with himself from Bogotá. He wanted to leave all of his old life behind but some memories stay with things that are bound to them.

He feels like a little boy again when he came home crying because lads – older and bigger than him – were picking on him. He feels like the little boy who hid behind the skirts of his dear mama when guests came to visit. That’s why he wants to look so tough, that’s why he is so hard around the edges – he changed, Bogotá changed him so he wouldn’t have to feel that small ever again. But even that didn’t help. Deep inside he is still that little boy. He can hide behind his bravado - his stern scowl and cold gaze- but that fact will never change.

He doesn’t know how long he has been standing there until the door swings open – almost hitting him in the face – and he sees Chucho standing in the doorway. His signature cowboy hat on his head and that old red flannel shirt he bought him on Christmas ages ago seems a little tighter around his middle than he'd last seen him in it. He is older – slower, the age showing on his face. But when he smiles as he sees Javier in front of him he looks 30 years younger.

Javier looks a lot like his pops – he has the same nose that he hated when he was younger – and pops had the same colored dark hair once that curls if it gets too long. They have the same dimple on the left side of their face if they smile too hard and like his pops, Javier could never really grow a proper beard.

Pops hugs him as if he hadn't seen him in ages – and to be honest, that is true. Work and life always got in the way and he regrets all the time he missed with him. He also didn’t want to come home – his mother’s things were still everywhere in the house. Her pictures, the warms blankets - that Javier loved to wrap around himself on the colder nights in Laredo - scattered on the armchairs and couch. He didn’t want to see Pops sad and so he stayed behind in Bogotá drowning in work, booze and women. The Peña men had different ways of grieving. Chucho never said anything to Javi though – he didn’t blame him for not coming, didn’t yell at him for letting him be alone on holidays – and he should have. He should do all those things because maybe then Javier wouldn’t feel like such a bad son.

When they part Chucho smiles – he didn’t smile a whole lot after Javi's mom died. “It's good to see you, Javier.” He pats him on the back – a little clumsily, Javier notices but he puts a tight smile on his face. He missed a whole lot.

“You too, pops. How have you been?” It’s a question he knows the answer to. He always answers the same – busy. After the death of his wife Pops seemed to spend most of his day outside working on a ranch. Barely coming home to eat or drink. Wanted to occupy his mind. “Seems like you started actually eating as I said.” Pops waves his hand back at him.

“You calling me fat, mijo?” Javier opens his mouth to answer but Pops beat him to it, his belly shaking a little with laughter. “Someone has been helping me out for a while now. Cooking and cleaning the house once in a while.” Javier quirks an eyebrow at this and he pushes the small suitcase as he enters – now his home, too. It didn’t change here in the slightest. Pops throws him a look above his shoulder as he looks him up and down quickly. “Seems like you have been skipping out on meals, my boy. Come, Bee is here and the lunch should be already done. She made Pozole de Pollo o Guajolote. Your mother's recipe.” Javi stands straighter at the nickname. Surely he didn’t mean...

The delicious smell coming from the kitchen makes his stomach rumble and he doesn’t remember the last time he had a proper meal. He abandons the suitcase in the hallway after he takes off his boots and jacket that he puts on the old wooden hanger for coats he made with Pops when he was around 12 –its asymmetrical and weird-looking seeming like it was made by a child – which it was but it’s a memory Javier is very fond of.

The floors creak under Javier's quick footsteps and he stops in the doorway as he watches you fuss around his dad. His entire body softens, the crease in his forehead disappearing as he sees you in the Peña kitchen. The past coming into the present. Prepping the silverware on the table that lays in the middle of the smaller kitchen. He sees that Pops kept everything in place like it was even before the death of Javi's mother. He missed this place. Even though bittersweet memories crawl out on the surface of his mind and his heart aches like it hadn’t in a really long time.

“Seems like you are a busy bee, Bee.” Javier smirks when you look up at him. You didn’t really change after the last time he had seen you. Sure, you aged – as has he – but you still kept your spark from all those years ago. You smile fondly – and a little unsure – at him as you quickly wipe your hands on the apron wrapped around your middle. And Javier notices - of course, he does. The hesitation in your step when you walk to him. The little twitch of your lips you make when you are nervous.

He is an observant man. He watches and analyzes. And he is good at it too - you squirm under his intense gaze. As if he could see every little part of your soul, even the deepest secrets you kept hidden somewhere back down inside of you. That’s why he is such a good agent. Was, at least. His dark eyes shift to your cleavage just for a second. You don’t notice - his eyes quickly scanning you up and down.

He looks good. Even better than the last time you saw him. The mustache he grew suits him. His hair is longer than he had when he went to high school with you. He is broader and seems even taller. He is a man now, not the little boy you played hide and seek with. He still wears the same smirk on his lips though - that kind of smirk that meant trouble when you two were younger. His jeans hug him in just all the right places and the black shirt he is wearing makes him somehow look even hotter. All man.

“You know me. Never could keep still.”

And he does. He does know you. Or at least he did - when you two were just young kids, then stupid teenagers and suddenly - strangers too. You grew up at the Peña dinner table as much as your own. Your mothers were great friends, your fathers old buddies. You had a farm right next to them which you eventually sold when your folks passed away and it was just too much work for only you alone. You bought a small house with the money you received.

Javier still remembers when he first saw you – all toothy grin and two braids sitting on top of your head. You wore that stupid flowy dress in an ugly mustard color. You were more of the outgoing type and Javier – to everyone's surprise – was more of the lonely kid. He was smaller than his peers – smaller than you even, when you first met him. And he doesn’t remember why you started talking to him and wanted to become his friend but he didn’t complain at that time. You visited him almost every single day – looking for mischief all around. Broken glasses and bones were nothing new to both of you. The two of you were inseparable – until high school. Javier – for once in his life, thanks to you - didn’t feel so small anymore. He grew up to be a handsome and smart, confident and funny, pretty charming and self-assured young man. Girls started noticing him and he loved the attention – when their heads turned around to look. They thought he never noticed. But alas, Javier was an observant boy even back then and he noticed – his cockiness getting on your nerves sometimes. He never wanted to feel small again.

And like almost every girl – you developed a huge crush on him. But it wasn’t because he was tall and cocky, no. It was simply because you knew the real Javier – your Javi. Who hated being alone and who hated going to the church every Sunday – hiding in the dusty, covered in spider webs attic. He never noticed you – like he noticed the other girls. He never gave you that loop-sided grin or the puppy heart-filled eyes. You were just great friends - even when you wished for more. And one day you weren't even that.

You should have seen it coming, really. With Javier becoming popular, he started hanging out with you less and less. When you came to Peña's household he was already out with his new friends. And you always came running to him like a pathetic little puppy who comes to his owner no matter how many times they kick him. His friends laughed at you. And later on, he started laughing with them. He got a girlfriend – Lorraine, the sweet and perfect Lorraine – before you two stopped talking. The old memory still stings when you think about it.

It happened on one of those super warm summer nights in Laredo. You wore one of your favorite dresses. It hugged your curves and you thought you look absolutely beautiful in it – your mother said so too. You asked Javi if you could meet up at your spot – the old scrap yard just a couple minutes' walk from both of your houses. When you arrived there your stomach dropped to your feet – his friends sitting with him on your favorite car that was reserved for only you and Javi. Laughing and drinking booze, the atmosphere lose. But you didn’t feel lose – your muscles taunt and all you wanted to do was just turn on your heels and leave. Cry about this stupid little crush you had on this stupid Texas boy. But Javier spotted you before you could do so – somehow he could always spotted you even in the biggest of crowds.

“Bee! Come and join us!” He yelled, one of his hands shooting into the air as he held an unopened can of beer. And with his other hand...he was holding Lorraine. They were close to each other – her almost sitting on his lap as she placed kisses on the column of his throat. You swallowed the ball of anxiety that was building in your throat as you heard them whisper: “Why did you call her, man?” He didn’t answer as he smiled at you. Lorraine's eyes squinting at you in annoyance.

Clearing your throat you asked: “Javi, can we talk?” He just shrugged his shoulders as he hopped off from the roof of the car mumbling a quick “sure”. He wasn’t wearing a t-shirt – you noticed just then. The sun was slowly setting and his golden skin shined. The butterflies in your belly made you want to go home and squeal into your pillow. You gulped and a few of his friends whistled – noticing the once-over you gave him.

“Someone has an admirer here, Peña. Too bad she is so fat and ugly! Like a pig – oink oink!” All of them bursted into laughter and to your surprise – so did Javier. He laughed straight into your face and you fought the tears in your eyes to not spill as you finally turned on your heel – as you should have done much sooner – and left. You didn’t see the remorseful look in his eyes and the way his muscle twitched, his mind screaming at him to go after you. He never wanted to feel small ever again and his friends said you were a loser – people like him shouldn’t talk to people like you. He didn´t want to be loser again.

Lorraine pulls him by the shoulder back to her – her tongue plunging into his mouth and when they pull apart she grins, the long nails of hers scraping across his golden-tanned chest.

“Forget about her, Javi. You don’t need her.” He nodded – unsure – but he didn’t have time to think about it too much as her tongue fought with his once more – the heavy taste of beer on her tongue filling all of his senses.

After that, you stop talking to Javier. You still came to his house - with your mama - but you didn’t greet him anymore and he was pretty sure you told your and his mother as well, as they always threw him a dirty look whenever he was in the same room as you. You didn’t look at him and you didn’t acknowledge his presence anymore. He hated that he felt so small again even though he didn’t have a reason to. He had friends and a girlfriend, and all the girls threw themselves at him. So why does his stomach pull tight anytime he is near you, why does he feel like he lost peace of himself?

One day he decides he has had enough. Both of your mothers went outside to catch the last rays of the sun and you are alone in the kitchen – baking your famous apple pie. He sneaks behind you and cages you in. You feel his breath on your neck, the slow raise and fall of his chest. You turn around – your noses almost touching – and he sees the hot fury in your eyes. You are covered in flour and Javier thinks – just for a split second - he had never seen you look so fucking beautiful. His gaze lingers on your mouth maybe a little too long because he sees you are talking – your mouth opening and closing.

“What do you want, Javier?” You ask and he had never heard you so annoyed, so drained. You didn’t look like yourself anymore and didn’t sound like it too.

“Us to start talking again, Bee.” Because Javier is selfish and he takes and takes. Sometimes forgetting to give something back in return. He widens his eyes when he feels the sting on one of his cheeks – his head moving to one side with the force of it. You slapped him. He looks at you – you are all wide eyes and snarling teeth.

“Fuck you, Peña.” You quickly try to scramble away from him because you feel like crying again. No because of sadness – no. That sadness turned into raw fury after the incident at the scrap yard. Because of how idiotic and stupid he is. And because – no matter what he had done and told you – you can’t seem to shake off the crush you have on him. He grits his teeth and his hand grabs your wrist. Both of your breathing erratic.

“It's not my fault you are not my type, Bee.” He didn’t mean to say that - the words coming from his mouth sound foreign to him. Not right. But his hot temper gets the best of him and the way he said and what he said should not hurt that much. But it does. It feels like he had just stabbed you in the heart and then twisted the knife – deeper and deeper.

You yank away from his grip and you point a finger at him – your hand shaking with the hurt, anger, sadness, Everything coming at you in waves - it feels so fucking overwhelming. You want to scream at him, kick him, hurt him as much as he had hurt you. But what good would it do? None.

You exhale shakily and Javier waits for the fight but it doesn’t come. You shrink into yourself and turn to leave. You look at him above your shoulder as you whisper. “I hate you so fucking much, Javier Peña.” And you are gone.

The heavy weight of your words lingers in the air and he feels the hot tears running down the apple of his cheeks. He quickly wipes them away. His ears are ringing and he doesn’t hear your mother yelling at you about what happened. He doesn’t smell your apple pie burning in the oven. He fucked up. Because he will never get to talk to you again or feel your touch. He will never hear you laugh and he will never get to comfort you again when you cry. Because the only source of your sorrow is him – the stupid Texas boy you now despised.

Javier comes to present and you give him a quick side hug telling him to sit down. Chucho watches both of you and he prays that you are both wise enough now to sort out this little grudge you have. But you are also both too stubborn and the dinner passes in silence. The only sound is the clinking of silverware cutting through the thick air and sometimes Chucho quips in to ask Javier about Colombia - Javier doesn’t want to talk about that, though. So he stays quiet as he chews - the food tastes exactly like his mother’s.

When Javier sneaks a quick look at you he thinks that maybe he wasn’t such an idiot. The bitterness from your last talk makes his face twist. He hates how - even after all these years - you seem to not acknowledge him even though you try to stay as polite towards him as possible. As if you just look through him and not at him. He watches as you pass his pops a salt and you grin at something he says.

And yeah, you are still definitely not his type.

Javier sees you almost every day. It drives him fucking crazy. The way you just nod at him when he passes by or is in the same room as you – which is mostly kitchen -, the way you don’t answer his questions about you. How have you been, what did you do after high school? He only knows your folks passed away shortly after he left for Colombia – Chucho told him over the phone. Your parents felt like second ones to him. He wanted to call you after Chucho told him, he really did. But he didn’t know your number – that was just an excuse, he knows that and he also knows Chucho would have given it to him if he asked. He feared that you would hang up on him, that if he heard your broken voice he would book the closest flight to come to you. After all – you were best friends a long time ago.

Javier wants to know everything about you – but you give him nothing. You are just a big complicated riddle to him and he has no hints to figure you out. He notices you though and the things you still do. You still enjoy watching sunsets as you did when you were younger. And that you talk to plants when you water them or that you still secretly go and feed horses a few sugar cubes even though you really shouldn’t. That you still hum when you cook and squint your eyes on either him or Chucho when they enter the kitchen because you don’t like when somebody disturbs you while you are in you’re your element. You always liked to bake and cook – often sneaking into the kitchen with him late at night because he wanted cookies and you gave in and baked them. Because he asked you to and said please – Javier never said please often and that habit he kept.

So because you don’t seem happy when he wants to talk to you or occupies the same room – you actually don’t seem happy with his presence in general and that makes his heart tighten even if he doesn’t understand why – he spends most of his day tending to the ranch. Feeding the animals and fixing the old barn. Today he started fixing the old fence that didn’t even look like a fence at all anymore. He grunts as he stands up – he is getting old and his back is fucking killing him. The Texas sun makes him sweat, he smells and he feels thirsty – has felt thirsty for a while now. But he knows it's afternoon and you are probably in the house cooking. He contemplates it – he doesn’t want to see you uncomfortable around his sheer presence but fuck. He feels like he could drink a whole gallon of water. Fuck it, he thinks as his steps lead him to the Pena house. You knew he was coming back home – if you didn’t want to stick with him, you wouldn’t.

When he is finally inside and the sun doesn’t burn his face, he takes off his yellow aviators and the thick working gloves. He is covered in sweat and dirt and as he enters the kitchen you think he never looked better. But he always does in your eyes and you hate yourself for it. You gulp and turn your back to him as you try to quickly scribble the things you need to get at the farmers market today. Your body stiffens when he walks behind you – his shirt brushes against your shoulders - and grabs one of those old funny-looking glasses you painted together when you were probably around 9. The air thickens and the atmosphere is awkward – you both want to say something but nothing comes out of your mouths. Finally, Chucho enters and he looks at Javi and then back at you.

“Go shower, mijo. You are going with Bee today.” It's an order and Javi doesn’t want to argue. His house, his rules. Quite the opposite – maybe the change of setting will finally let you loosen up and you will talk to him. He wants to say to you so much. He looks at you and you gape at Chucho as he throws you a pointed look. You swiftly shut your mouth – Javier taking the steps by two as he wants to scrub himself squeaky clean as soon as possible. He feels positively giddy – it reminds him of the times when he got his first car and drove around Laredo with you.

When he comes down the hushed conversation between you and Chucho comes to a halt and he looks between you two before Chucho almost pushes you out of the house. You drag your feet behind you and the giddiness he felt leaves him as he sees your “enthusiasm”. He wants to go and hide in the nearest hole, lick the wounds he pretends he doesn’t have but you are already sitting in the passenger seat by the time he gets his head out of the gutter.

The ride is awkward, filled with silence and you squirm every once in a while in your seat. You glance at Javier's profile a few times – his strong jawline and his aquiline nose. You stare at his hands and how come they are so big? The veins are prominent on the back of them - leading to the thick fingers, nails trimmed neatly. His hair is longer now after a few weeks already spend at home. He looks better than when he arrived. Now he didn’t look as...tired. And as skinny – he always devours the meals you cook and you can see him filling up around the middle. His arms were much stronger and more muscular than before because of all the work he did on the ranch. Domesticity looks good on him. You watch as he grips the wheel and see his jaw tick before he sighs.

“I am sorry, Bee.” You raise your brows at him when he glances to see your reaction to his words. He never was good with them “actions speak louder than words” he always said. “I am sorry for what I said and how I treated you during high school. I was a fucking idiot and if I could take it all back-”

“You were.” It's a simple phrase, your words coming out fast and he grips the steering wheel tighter when your hand lands on his thigh. “But that’s all I ever wanted to hear, Javier. Yes, your words and actions hurt me in the past. And they still hurt me now when I think about them. But there's nothing we can do about it now. We were kids and if it didn’t happen I don’t think I would become the person I am now so I accept your apology even if it could have been a better one. You should really work on your people skills.” You shrug your shoulders as you tease him and the hand that was resting on his thigh moves into your lap once again. He wants to tell you you could have kept it there – it felt too fucking good even if it was such a simple and innocent touch. It grounded him and Javier is touch deprived.

“So, that’s it?” He asks, his tongue poking out to lick his lower lip as he raises his eyebrows while he watches the road.

“Yes, that’s it.”

The conversation flows smoothly after that and Javier can't believe it was that easy. If he apologized much sooner he could have been talking to you for weeks now. He missed this – your talks. You talked with your hands a lot and he enjoys how expressive you are when you are telling something. He learns a lot about you. You own a little bakery here - that’s why you are so flexible and can come almost anytime to the ranch. He feels proud of you – your dream was always to open a small bakery somewhere. At least one of us could make their dream come true.

You laugh and talk, and tell stupid jokes or occurrences that happened in your life. He missed a whole lot and so have you. Your favorite story of his is when he told about the time his neighbor – an old lady – saw him butt naked because the woman he slept with locked him out of his own apartment after he told her he wanted nothing serious. His neighbor called him over to have some fun which he politely declined. You double over laughing and Javi grins, his cheeks hurting. He missed your laugh – he didn’t feel this comfortable ever since...well ever since you stopped talking.

The ride passes quickly and when you step out of the car you come around – grabbing Javis's hand as you mumble something about “want to show you around here, Javi, so much changed after you left” as you throw him a quick grin. He can only concentrate on your nimble fingers between his and how it feels so fucking right before you are dragging him behind you.

You are not his type he has to remind himself as he squeezes your hand tightly.

Javier comes into the house all muddy once again. It has been raining in Laredo for the past few days - the land all soaked soil and dirt. He takes of his boots before he enters. His nose drags him into the kitchen as he catches the smell of pie. Sweet and delicious - or was it just you, standing here all soft and pretty? He can't tell anymore. These past few weeks were filled with nothing but joy – almost. You played cards with him and Chucho late at night, drinking beer and listening to Chucho's stories. Sometimes you went riding with him on the ranch. Your love for horses didn’t die out and you always were natural with them. You have your favorite one too – the small chestnut-colored mare with a fiery temperament that seems to tolerate only you. Chuho wanted to sell her a long time ago but you begged him on your knees – literally – not to. His eyes softened and he agreed reluctantly – he could never say no to you. Something both Peña men had in common.

Anytime Javier looks at you he feels his stomach tighten with something – sometimes arousal but he blames that on the lack of sex, sometimes on something entirely else. He tries to push it deep inside him but whenever he catches your smell his head gets all dizzy and he has the need to find you and talk to you, be near you He hates it. He hates it so fucking much. He doesn’t know what you did to him. He can't seem to shake you out of his mind. He thinks of you anytime he sees the sun setting down or the last time he picked violets for you as he saw them growing a few miles away from the ranch. Because you love violets. He gave them to you with a darker shade of red covering his ears as he scratched his neck. You thanked him and kissed him on the cheek then – his heart hammering in his chest, his pulse quickening and his lower half seemed all too interested in the skin-to-skin contact. As your lips lingered on his cheek as he thought about against what other parts of him would they feel so soft.

Javi leans against the doorframe as he watches you knead the dough – one of the pies already in the oven. You look so nice in your overalls. He could just bend you over the kitchen counter and -

Shut the fuck up, Peña. Don’t even think about getting hard.

You startle when you turn around and see him, your dough-covered hand flying to your chest as you yelp. “Javier Peña, don’t scare me like that!” You scowl at him, your lip pursed and he grins – his hands shooting into the air in a silent apology.

“Didn't mean to, Bee.” The corner of his lips pulls up as you murmur “sure you didn’t" and turn back around to put more flour in the dough. He quickly washes his hands in the sink and comes behind you – he inhales your scent and closes his eyes. The hair on your neck stands up. “You smell so fucking good.” It's a quiet statement. You look at him wide-eyed and he gives you a confused look in return.

“What did you say?” Your throat pulls tighter. Shit, shit, shit.

“Uh-um, that if you'd show me how you knead the dough.” He closes his eyes – idiot, idiot. You breathe out a small “oh” and shake the shock off of you as you nod and come behind him as you grab his hands in yours.

And fuck, Javier thinks his pulse went from zero to a hundred in this second. His heart feels like it will jump out of his chest any second. Your small hands on his makes him think back to a few weeks ago.

You stayed at Peñas that night. You always drove back home but that night it was raining a lot and it was too late anyways. You agreed as Chucho asked you if you wanted to stay – they had a smaller spare room right next to Javis. You bid them both good night and fell asleep quickly after that. You were exhausted but a scream woke you up and you swiftly stood up on your feet and scrambled into Javier's room. He sat on the bed – all sweaty, his breath quick as his head rested in his palms. He looked up at you when the old wooden floor creaked under your footsteps. He cleared his throat and tried to hide from you. You crouched in front of him and offered him a little smile.

“You don’t have to hide from me, Javi.” And then he was pulling you into him, breathing you in, his hands pulled around you tightly as he sobbed into your shoulder. He was exhausted of pretending everything was fine. The weight of all the things that he did in Colombia came crashing down on him. You just shushed him as he listened to your heartbeat – his head on your chest, your hand in his as you stroked the back of it. When he finally calmed down he told you everything – the things he did, the things he should have done and the things he shouldn’t have. He told you about Los Pepes and Carilo, and the nightmares that still haunted him.

“I am just a shell of a man I once was, Bee.” He whispered into the night and you grabbed both sides of his face as you frowned at him.

“You are far more than that, Javi.” He wanted to kiss you right there and then but you pulled him on your chest again and he breathed you in once more. The slow rise and fall of your chest lulls him to sleep. He never slept that well in his life.

When he woke up the other side of the bed was cold but the smell of you – like an apple pie – lingered on the other pillow and he wanted to drown in it. He stroked himself at the thought of you as he smelled the pillow. Your soft hands and the feel of your breasts against his face, the small brush of your lips against his forehead. He came embarrassingly quickly and couldn’t look you straight in the eyes for a few days after that. Neither of you talked about that night. As if it never happened.

So now he curses himself as he feels how he twitches in his pants – the soft swell of your breasts pressed up against his back. The collar of his shirt is a bit too tight as well as his pants. For fucks sake, Peña. He hasn’t slept with anyone since he came back home and it showed. You don’t seem to notice though.

“You are pretty clumsy with your hands, Javier.” He chokes on seemingly nothing and almost pushes you onto the ground as he stumbles a few steps back. Let me show you how good with my hands I can be -

“Gotta take a shower.” He says and he takes the steps by two - almost falling over. He closes the door of the bathroom with little more force than necessary. He scrambles with his closes almost ripping them from him and he grabs his aching cock – tugging on it firmly as a spurt of precum shoots out of the head. He steps into the shower – the spray of cold water not helping him calm down his hammering heart or the way his skin seems to be on fire. He strokes himself quickly – the strokes measured as he thinks of your pretty lips around him or that pretty pussy you sure have. He thinks of the swell of your breast on his back, your breath on the back of his neck, your hand in his, your pretty smile and kind eyes. He thinks about how you would feel around him if he pounded into you from behind or what sounds would you make when he would go down on you. How wet would you be? Are you the quiet type or would he have to put his fingers – or something else – in your mouth to shut you up?

He grunts and his forehead bumps onto the cold tiles of the shower as he cums. He watches how the water downs his spend and he tries to wash the guilt he feels off of him too.

You are not his type, he thinks as he tugs on his cock for the final time.

You are going on a date. Javier watches with a frown on his face as you fumble around to finish the dinner. You are wearing a pretty dress – a light green one with a flowy skirt that exposes the whole expanse of your back. The strings on your shoulder are the only thing keeping it in place. You look absolutely incredible. He didn’t want you to go. Fuck, what if the guy was some kind of psycho? Or worse, what if he was actually a decent guy and you'd stop helping Chucho because you would be too occupied with your new little boy toy? What would Chucho do without you – yes, Chucho of course, not Javier. Javier wasn’t jealous and he definitely wasn’t praying that your date would end up in disaster...Okay, he felt jealous. Like “I will rip that guy in shreds” type of jealous.

And Javier would be alone tonight – Chucho left in the morning to visit his “friend” - he knows he went to Mária living across from the barber's shop. He didn’t say anythimg – the lie falling out of Chucho’s lips easily. And he felt happy for him – him moving on meant he was healing. Slowly but healing. Javi wanted to do something nice for you two tonight– the store-bought cheesecake lying in the fridge. He thought that you could watch TV today – watch anything you wanted. Maybe then he would slip his hand under the hem of your dress and he would -

“Javi!” You wave your hand in front of his face and he blinks a few times. You even put on makeup – the red lipstick making your lips look downright edible and he licks his own lips. He could pull you in and make you forget about your silly little date. But for once in his life Javier didn’t want to be greedy when it came down to you – you seemed so excited when you told him you had a date and he planted on the best fake smile on his face he could muster. Even though he felt sick to his stomach when you told him, his fingers twitching to catch your wrist and pull you close – to tell you you should fuck that guy and stay with him tonight. “You listening?”

“Sorry, what did you say?” You groan in annoyance – already running late – and you grab him by the collar – oh, he likes this a lot. You are so fucking close he feels your breath fan across his face.

“Listen, Javi. I don’t have time for this. The Chiles Rellenos are in the oven so they won't get cold as quickly. If it gets cold just put it in the microwave.” he nods – he knows this, of course – but wants to keep you busy because maybe then your date would cancel – no, he can't.

“Okay.” He says slowly and you let go of the collar of his shirt – just now noticing you grabbed him by it. You pull away from him. “If anything-”

“I call you. You already told me. Don’t worry, dad. I'll be fine.” You grin and turn on your heel waving a quick goodbye before the doors shut behind you. Javier gulps the growing ball in his throat and curses at himself. Idiota. But you know - of course you are not his type.

Javier watches the starry sky tonight. The cheesecake forgotten in the fridge alongside your dinner – he felt so sick to his stomach he was pretty sure he'd throw up if he ate anything. The warm blanket his mother knitted lays heavy on his shoulder as he looks at the sky – millions of stars showing tonight. You'd love to see it – maybe you already are. Star-watching sounds like the kind of date you would have loved. He fiddles with the handle of his mug filled with hot cocoa in his lap and thinks. About how he got here, about his fuck ups – and the biggest fuck up he has ever done was to let you go on that stupid date, he concludes. Okay, maybe not the biggest fuck up but close enough. He straightens up when he spots a car pulling into the driveway – your car. A small grin makes its way onto his lips until he sees your sagged shoulders and the slow way you drag your heels behind you.

“You have room for another in there?” You ask – your voice small compared to when you left. Pointing a finger at the spot next to him. He nods quickly and when you sit he immediately wraps the blanket around your shoulders – your head resting on his shoulder. It's quiet for a while as he offers you his mug and you drink from it leisurely. He knows you will tell him what happened if you want to. The silence is not awkward – it’s a comfortable one. He always feels comfortable with you. You pull away from him and put the mug on the ground – pulling your knees close to your chin.

“Can I ask you something?” You look at him from the corner of your eye, your words muffled by your knees.

“Anything, Bee.” And he means that. You could ask him anything in the world and he would answer you no matter what question.

“Why am I not your type? You know, cuz it seems I am no one's type.” He knows you are referring to the time when he was angry at you after you slapped him. But he didn’t mean to say it. He doesn’t know how to answer – his tongue heavy all of the sudden and fuck, why is so hard to just tell you.

Rather than answering you he twists his torso so he can look at you – really look at you. The moonlight shines on half of your face and how did he never notice how pretty your eyes were? Or your plush lips, your soft hair? He gulps as he reaches forward tentatively – his palm resting on the side of your face now. And he expects you to pull away – to tell him to fuck off. But you don’t. His throat is dry and he feels like his lungs can't seem to have enough oxygen in them because his brain seems to stop functioning too. He brushes his fingertips across your cheek and you would have never expected that Javier Peña could be so gentle with his touch. He looks at your lips – your mouth open just a tiny bit and he sees your Adam's apple bob. Do you want this as much as he does? Or is he imagining things and projecting his own fucked up desires and feelings onto you at this very moment? He doesn’t have much time to think about it before your fingers tangle into his hair at the back of his head, his breath picks up and your mouth surges forward – your lips meeting his.

He feels like fireworks just exploded in his stomach. His skin tingles and his hands brush against the front of your dress. Your hand on his nape makes him groan into you and he brushes your collarbone with his calloused hand. He wanted this for so long and he didn’t even know about it. The other grabs you by the neck and pulls you even closer – the blanket falling off of you two when you swing your legs on either side of his narrow hips. He presses his lips against yours with more force and he is confident and greedy with it. He curls his hand around your waist and his fingertips dig into your hip while the other hand presses into your shoulder blades. He can feel the blood rushing through his veins and he is warm and fuzzy all over – his body humming with something he never felt before.

You were never kissed this way before – Javier takes, and takes but gives back even more in return. The kiss is impatient and hungry – like he waited for this all of his life. His hands on your skin make you hum out in pleasure and you trail your hand to his jaw – you can feel the stumble he has under your fingertips. You open your mouth to him and the hand on your hip squeezes you tighter, and he wants you closer, closer – this is not enough. Not close enough. And you feel the same as you pull him closer by the collar and he groans into your mouth. You can taste the warm cocoa on his tongue and his smell invades all your senses – cigarettes, his cologne and something entirely him. Musky and sweet. Your cheeks burn and your palms are sweaty when he pulls away from the kiss – his hands brushing along the exposed skin on your back, his thumb circling your hip. His forehead rests on yours as he tries to calm down and your nails scrape across his exposed chest – he always has a few buttons unbuttoned on his shirt and it drives you insane. He moans when he feels the sensation of your nails on his skin – his hips bucking up to meet yours and you mewl as you feel the bulge press up against your core.

“Fuck, Bee. I want to fuck you so badly. Do you want that too? Tell me. Tell me, please.” Javier Peña said please. He never says please. Yoou nod furiously as you peck him on the lips – his mouth surges to meet yours once again and you lap at his lower lip, your hands fisting into the material of his shirt.

“Wanted this since I was 16 and crazy in love with you, Javi.” You whisper against his lips and your confession makes his heart beat with joy. You loved him. He grips the flesh on your hips and mumbles a breathy “okay” before he stands up and carries you with him – your legs wrap around his middle. He stumbles a few times and almost trips on the stairs as he keeps kissing you – his tongue nibbling at your collarbones, his hands supporting your weight as he holds you by the back of your thighs.

When you arrive in his room he throws you on the bed and starts to quickly undress. His fingers shake and he can't seem to unbutton the fucking shirt. Fuck. He stands in front of the edge of the bed and you lean back on your elbows – your gaze heavy with lust. As you see him struggling you crawl onto the edge of the bed and loop your fingers between his belt. He stops and looks at you – you eye the heavy bulge between his thighs and he gulps when your fingers trail his jean-clad cock which jumps with interest under your touch. He has never been this fucking hard before and he knows it's not because for the past few months, the only thing he has been fucking was his fist – it's because of you. “Let me.” You murmur and he nods, he watches your nimble fingers working on his buttons and when he shackles the piece of clothing off him your hands map out his chest, coming down to his belly button and you lick your lips when you see the trail of hairs leading down into the waistband of his jeans. You kiss him right there – on the soft swell of his tummy – and he jumps forward, his hands gripping your head to keep you there. You grin against his skin and your tongue pokes out of your mouth to lick him there – he shudders, and the grip on your head loosens. You pull away from him and your hands start working on his belt – it falls to the ground with a quiet cling of the metal.

You cup him in your hand through the fabric of his jeans – even now you can feel how heavy he is and that he will feel fucking big inside of you. “You are a big boy aren't you, Javi?” He whimpers at your question and nods furiously as he looks down at you – your gaze immediately locking with his as you are already peering up at him through your eyelashes and you pout at his state. You never expected Javier to be so...needy. He closes his eyes when you squeeze him again and then he hears the sound of a zipper, he feels your breath ghosting over his tip. “No underwear?” He shakes his head and chokes when you lick the salty precum.

“No-no. Fuck. Too uncomfortable.” His eyes close as if he's in pain and his nostril flare when he feels the first velvety slide of your tongue against his cock. Your pulse quickens and you feel too fucking powerful right now as you feel him swell even more in your mouth. You hold his gaze as you pull off of him and flatten your tongue – licking your way to the underside of his cock. His hands cradle the back of your head, his pupils completely blown as he watches you put open-mouth kisses onto the hard warm flesh that jumps under your attention.

And he is fucking big – his size obvious by sight and by the way he feels around your hand – heavy and warm. But you really feel it when you take him deeper into your throat the girth of his cock opens your mouth wider. The broken sound between a whimper and a groan makes you clench around nothing and he tastes exactly how you imagined him – clean and delicious – exactly like Javier looks. You can't fit all of him in your mouth but you try – focusing on your breathing and relaxing your throat – the squelching sounds of your mouth bobbing up and down his length filling the room. You try to take him deeper and deeper – until you gag around him and pull away. Javis's mouth is wide open when you pull off of him – spit trailing from your lips and connecting you to the swollen tip of his cock. His chest heaves and he swipes his thumb across your bottom lip – collecting the saliva – and puts it in his mouth – he groans with approval and it makes you want to give him more. You sink your awaiting mouth back onto his cock once more and moan when another spurt of precum lands on your tongue. Your hand is securely wrapped around the base of his cock as you stroke him slowly and you look back up at him.

He looks absolutely and positively wrecked – his hair falling in front of his eyes and sticking to his forehead as he grits his teeth struggling to not make you take him deeper – to not fuck your throat. His grip on your hair tightens as he starts panting harshly and you feel him twitch in your mouth – you can feel he is almost there – but then he pulls back from you.

He almost lifts you into the air as his tongue delves into your mouth – wanting to taste himself on you. The bitterness of himself on your tongue makes him groan into your mouth and you never expected him to be this vocal. He steps out of his jeans and then he is back on you – his fingers working on the straps of your dress while he plants butterfly kisses on the column of your throat. He discards the piece of clothing as if it has offended him somehow and he pulls back to look at you – you can see the muscle on his thigh flex as he tries to keep his balance on his heels. His hands reach back for you – grabbing you under your knees before he is pulling you closer to him. His fingers dip into the waistband of your panties before they are too thrown somewhere behind him.

His thick fingers work their way inside you without a warning – two of them plunging deep. You are soft, and pliant under him. Your walls squeeze him tight when he moves his finger up, up – until you sob and grab his wrist - to stop him or to plea for him to keep doing that you aren't sure. It never felt like this and he grins against the flesh of your cheek – kissing you there softly. His other hand grabs one of your tits and he pinches the nipple – it hardens under his hard touch. He bends down to suck it into his mouth and your hand shoots out to the back of his head – keeping him there. One of your thighs is firmly planted on his shoulder and his fingernails dig into your ankle, the blunt nails creating crescent shapes. Your heel digs into his shoulder with a particular shove into your cunt – the tips of his fingers brushing against something that makes you hold your breath.

The way you keep repeating his name makes him want to never leave your perfect cunt. His name and the wet sounds of your pussy sucking him in make him light-headed. He wishes no one would call him Javi again after he hears it from your mouth – whiny and high-pitched, filled with the need to let go.

“Come on, Bee. I can feel you squeezing me. Fucking give it to me. I want you to soak my fingers.” You nod vigorously and sob when his thumb starts drawing harsh circles against your clit. He hits nerves inside of you you didn’t even knew you had before. You take everything he gives – the flick of his wrist, his fingers petting your walls, his mouth on yours. You cum when he bites you into the juncture between your shoulder and neck – his tongue smoothing the bite. You feel him smile against your mouth when you cry out into him – his fingers still working inside of you until you wheeze and tell him to stop. He pulls them out and maps your body with your juices – the slick trail shining under the moonlight that falls onto the both of you.

He reaches into his nightstand and pulls out a condom – ripping the foil packet between his teeth before he puts it onto his length. He sits up on his heels – his cock bobbing with the movement and you gulp as he pats his thigh – telling you to come to him and you do – all jelly legged and sedated after your first orgasm. He pulls you close by the small of your back and his cock nudges against your entrance when you swing your legs around his waist. His hairy legs stick to the back of your thighs and you can feel the sweat rolling off him – his hands supporting you as you sink down on him. Your mouth forming into an “o” and you let out a breathless moan. You knew he was big – as his girth opened up your mouth more and the weight of him heavy on your tongue. But this feels entirely different. You squirm on his lap and he grunts – his other hand coming down onto the flesh of your ass. The pinch you feel as he fills you completely is uncomfortable and you grip his bicep – your nails digging into the flesh there. He hisses and kisses you – the kiss languid and slow. His tongue traces your mouth and your grip loosens – your muscles start to relax.

“Javi, you are so big.” You don’t say him to make him feel better or feed his ego – it's just a fact. Clear and simple. His nose bumps against yours and he looks into your eyes – he is so close he is breathing the oxygen you exhale.

“I know, hermosa. But you can take it. Can’t you?” The new term of endearment falling out of his mouth is surprising but welcome nevertheless. He waits for your answer as he fights himself not to move – your walls squeezing around him and he counts to five so he doesn’t cum right now like some kind of fucking teenager.

Javier slept with a lot of women. One night stands, prostitutes, his fiancé. But he never felt like this with anyone. His heart never hammered in his chest so quickly and the blood in his veins didn’t boil. His skin never felt like it was on fire by a simple touch. It's new and he welcomes it with open arms. He is tired of fighting and running. This is his new life and it's not too bad – it's better than it ever was. He never feels small with you and he chases that feeling.

“Yes, I can. I can take it. Please move, Javi.” He listens to your command – the first drag of his cock through your walls feels intoxicating. His hot breath fans against your chest as his forehead rests on it and his hand that was gripping your ass moves to your hip – dragging you up and down his cock as you meet his every perfectly measured thrust. He maps your body and listens to your reactions – he figures out what you like or what you really don’t after a few minutes as he pounds into you.

You don’t know which one of you is louder but it makes him even sexier – the guys you’ve been with before weren't so enthusiastic about it and you felt like they didn’t even wanted to be there – the only hint of them enjoying it was when they came with a quiet grunt and fall onto the bed next to you. Javier is different – he always was – and you live for all the sounds he makes. How he gropes you and maps out your body – his fingers dipping into every crease and curve of your body. And you can feel that in each thrust there is this hidden emotion that he doesn’t want to show. But you grew up with him and can read him pretty well – and your heart swells with the unspoken words. You don’t need to hear them. He will figure it out himself eventually.

He feels that you are close after he gives you a particularly hardh thrust and you squeal – your nails scratching his muscular back that you’ve been ogling anytime he came out of the shower without a t-shirt or when it was too hot outside and decided the piece of clothing wasn’t necessary in that kind of weather. His mustache scrapes along the flesh on your breasts and you feel his hips shift – the change of position making him feel even bigger. He puts his thumb into your mouth as he looks at you and you suck it – it tastes of you and sweat but you don’t care – as he pulls it out and starts rubbing your clit with it.

It only takes a few drags of his cock before you are cumming – your clit throbbing as he keeps pressure on it. Your walls squeeze him and he feels like he can't move any further. Your fingers curl into his hair and tug him so he is looking at you. He is all lust-blown eyes and his baring teeth turned into a snarl. You can feel every vein and bump in his cock with every thrust and he twitches inside of you – his hand coming to hold the hinge of your jaw as his tongue tangles with yours once again. It's frantic as are his deep thrusts and you are pretty sure he will break the bed soon – the headboard hitting the wall with every pass of his hips. You admire how fucking lost in you he looks – slack-jawed and dazed. You tug on his hair once more and the reaction is almost instant – his hips faltering for a moment seemingly losing his rhythm.

“Come on, Javi. I want you to look at me when you cum.” Your requests makes him shut his eyes before he shudders and opens them – your name a broken record when he spills into the condom. You scratch him on the back of his head – your movements slow and languid. He pulls out of you after a moment – when he catches his breath and his heartbeat evens out – even though when he is with you it seems impossible.

The aftercare is soft and sweet as he lays on his back and pulls you close to him – stroking your spine and kissing the top of your head.

“Do you want me to leave?” He pulls you tighter against him after you ask him that and he grips your chin so you look at him.

“Never again, Bee. I want you right here with me.” You sigh in contentment and give him a sweet kiss.

You are definitely his type, Javier thinks as he feels your breath even out and slowly, he falls asleep too – you in his arms – and he wouldn’t have it any other way.

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bunnysbrainrot · 7 months

Text

But I’m Better

Kintober prompt: Toys

Relationship: dbf!Joel Miller x fem!Reader

Content: explicit sexual scenes, praise kink, guided masturbation, dom/sub (kinda) dynamic, size kink (kinda sorta). No outbreak AU, age gap (Joel is around his mid-40’s, reader is early/mid-20’s).

Summary: When something breaks, you always know who to call. Your dresser is broken, and you’re left hopeless. But what happens when Joel finds something peculiar in your drawer?

A/N: Y’all. I am so pissed right now because i wrote so much on my drive home, and it deleted because of a bad connection. i can’t recall everything i wrote, so i did the best with what i could remember. i hope it’s up to your liking!

“Shit,” you grumble as you stare blankly at the clothes strewn across the floor. The knob of your dresser drawer sat stupidly in your hand, the mangled wood and metal mocking you. It looked completely ruined.

You thought about messaging your dad about the repairs, but chose against it. He was never exactly notorious for making these things simple - it would be a question of ‘So how did this happen?’ or ‘How did you manage to break it?’, and it really wasn’t worth the effort for you.

The knob sat in your hand, the screw that held it in the drawer was bent to the side, and incredibly dull. No surprise there, you thought.

To be fair, it was an old ass dresser, given to you by your grandmother when you were younger. It was weird to think that you’d had this dresser for over twelve years.

You bent over the pile of clothes and hoisted the hefty drawer in line with the empty space, grunting in frustration as you tried to shimmy it in. It was settled haphazardly and tilted backwards. Completely screwed up. You took your phone from your pocket and snapped a photo of your mangled dresser, sending it to Joel.

Dresser finally gave out, I guess. Knob fell clean off when I tried to open it

Almost immediately, Joel haha reacted to the image and began to type. He was unlike any other man you’d talked to before. Joel was timely and consistent, and he was always reliable. Even if he didn’t have the time to help, he would instruct you on how to solve an issue, but typically he helped you in person.

As much as you tried to deny it, your feeling for Joel had warped over the past few years. It began as a silly childhood crush - those early days where you and your friends joked about what older men were sexiest. Your friends had given you teasing looks when you mentioned Joel, and even more shocking was how long you’d liked him. It was a simple, harmless, childhood crush.

Until it wasn’t.

You were freshly eighteen and readying yourself for college when the realization hit you. After all those years having crushes on older guys, it would be considered okay. Weird and taboo, sure, but still allowed now that you were legally an adult.

Joel had come to your graduation dinner at the end of senior year. You remembered that night in vivid detail. More particularly, Joel’s presence set your skin ablaze with a new type of anxiety. At long last, you could freely crush on Joel, except that there was now a chance he could like you, too.

That night he’d passed you a small velvet box, tied neatly with gold ribbon. You opened the box to reveal a gold, oval-shaped locket with a simple clasp. Inscribed on the face of the locket were whorled spirals, breaking off as flowers scattered over the gilded surface. Gazing up at Joel, you couldn’t contain your joy as you gave him a quick hug. He briefly wrapped an arm around you, holding you close by the small of your back.

He broke away, smiling proudly at you below him.

“You did a great job, baby girl. You keep that up in college, and you’ll get by just fine.”

You were thankful dessert had arrived in time for you to turn your attention away, hiding your rouged cheeks. Joel probably didn’t remember that night, but you remembered every little thing.

—

You’d done your four years of college and after the endless nights with little to no sleep and hard work, you were finally graduated, and taking a gap year before considering anything further. You worked hard, and didn’t want to burn yourself out with more school immediately.

But now you were back home, and your sights were set on something else. It was a golden opportunity to spend time with Joel - time that you’d lost by being away for so long. Holiday visits and summer break was hardly generous enough to give you any alone time with Joel. You left for college as a timid girl, developed yourself as a whole, and came back a woman. A woman who knew herself and her wants.

And you wanted him, ached for him in a way you could neither define nor justify. He was almost twice your age, a wholly developed man with his own complex past and unsteady dating life.

Mr. Miller.

He had lived in the next neighborhood over for as long as you could remember. He and your dad met about ten years back at a ‘work thing’, as they described it.

Joel was kind and endlessly generous when it came to helping others. He was the first call when something broke, and the best person to have over when times were tough, despite his sometimes-rugged personality.

You’d gotten back in town over a week ago, and since then you’d seen Joel a few times, mostly to ‘inspect’ the furniture in your room - if anything had worn down over time and needed to be replaced, the whole nine. The both of you knew it was some bullshit excuse to see him at work, with those corded muscles flexing under his tanned skin, sending shivers down your spine.

That day, the two of you had enough bravery in you to flirt. It started out lightly, you gave more emphasis on Mr. Miller, until Joel requested you call him by his first name.

“Makin’ me feel like an old man, darlin’,” he teased. You remember how he sounded saying it, with a voice as thick and sweet as molasses.

Before he’d left he’d held you by the waist, staring a little too closely at your face, watching your eyes grow wide when he leaned toward you. He fixed your hair with a gentle hand, said your name, and trailed off, his eyes never leaving your lips.

He refused to kiss you that time. Though the time after that you’d decided to break the boundary, drinking him in like someone dying of thirst. You memorized his scent, the softness of his skin and rough, eager hands across your chest, between your thighs, your throat. You both had been greedy that night. It was a high that coursed through your senses. You needed him, more than you led on.

I’ll get my toolbox, looks like it could be some old hardware. Be over in 10.

You picked up around your room in the meantime, your heart fluttering in your ribcage with each passing second. The room had become stiflingly hot. Suffocating.

A knock at your bedroom door startled you out of your anxious stupor. You reached for the door and now faced a smug Joel Miller in the doorway.

“I could’ve met you at the front door, you know,” you chastised him playfully. Joel shifted his weight of his feet, pulling something from his pocket.

“Helps that I have a house key. Means I can help you even faster.”

You rolled your eyes at him and turned on your heels without a word, striding toward your broken dresser. Joel followed casually, craning his head to look around your room, at the decorations that covered the walls and ceiling. This was no longer the bedroom of a the kid he’d met all those years ago. No, you were fully your own woman now.

“Yup, the screw’s shot to shit,” he muttered, holding out the drawer’s knob to you. “See the end of it? Shouldn’t be that dull - gotta have it replaced every now and then.”

“Do you have the right screw for it?”

He nodded, popping open his toolbox and assessing the different screws in each compartment. His hands flexed with each movement, the veins branching across them shifted with every twitch and roll of his thick fingers. Your legs clenched while the most intrusive thoughts filled your head. Specifically those hands, and what you could imagine them doing to you.

Procuring the right screw, Joel handed it to you. You looked at him in innocent confusion.

God, those eyes. If he had the chance, Joel would look into them all day, to let himself get swallowed whole by their beauty. And when you looked at him all pretty like that, as if you had no idea what you were doing to him, it drove him wild. You knew exactly what you were doing when you’d flirt with Joel, but couldn’t gauge his reciprocation, or if he was even okay with the weird ‘relationship’ you had.

It had been confusing for long enough. Someone needed to make a move, and Joel wasn’t sure if you had it in you to do it. Neither were you.

“I wanna see you try it for yourself,” he explained.

“If it’s so easy, why can’t you do it?” you quipped with a smile, but still taking the knob in your hands. Joel gave no reply and waited patiently for you to back down and do it yourself.

It was far easier than you thought. You handed it back to Joel with a proud smile. His eyes thoughtfully scanned your face before finding home in your eyes.

“Smart girl. I knew you could do it.”

Heat rushed across your cheeks like a harsh sunburn, completely taken over by the brightness in his honeyed tone and brown eyes. Joel laughed at your reaction before he worked on the drawer knob, fiddling it into place. His hands rummaged through your drawer as he worked, and paid no mind to the clothes, though you just realized. This was your underwear drawer - full of lacy underwear, bras of all varieties, and one final item you prayed you hid well enough.

Joel’s hands pushed through your panties as you held your breath. After the drawer had fallen out you’d lazily threwn everything back in the drawer and paid no mind to its organization. Since it wasn’t on the bed or the floor, by accident, you were certain that Joel would cross paths with a toy of yours.

He struck something solid amidst the clothes. The material was solid and heavy, with a bit of give from the silicone. At that moment, he could’ve left it ignored, but there was no fun in that, he thought. Joel gripped the dildo at the base, pulling out of the tangle of clothes and handed it to you, flashing you with a smirk.

“You should find a better place for this,” he drawled. “Never know who could find it.”

You quickly grabbed it from him and scanned your room for another hiding spot, but nothing came to mind. Instead you plopped it back in the drawer, on the opposite side.

“Most people don’t get to go through my underwear, so you can’t give me shit for that,” you grumbled. Joel stood, groaning at the strain on his joints. You giggle at the noise, and gave him your usual teasing, “Old man.”

Ignoring your jab, Joel leaned against the chest of drawers, arms crossed over his chest in a stare down.

His voice was dark. It had become devious, knowing, and more stern than you’d imagined.

“You use it on yourself?”

You choked on your spit harshly, not expecting his question to be so direct. Joel placed a wide hand between your shoulder blades and gave you a pat, coaxing you back to normal.

“Joel,” you pant, catching your breath, “you can’t just- just ask me that.”

“And you wouldn’t be curious if the roles were reversed, I’m sure,” he said coolly.

The redness had returned to your cheeks while you debated on your answer, but your hesitation told Joel everything he needed to know. In the smallest way, you’d let it slip that you imagine him in your free time, not that it wasn’t the same case for him. If anything, it’d been worse. Every text you’d sent him set him ablaze; at night he thought about you in detail and palmed himself through his pants, or pumped his cock in a fervent hand as he thought of you, squeezing himself inside your tight pussy. Countless nights he’d stained himself with his own seed, wishing it was inside of you instead, where it belongs. That toy should be him, it always should’ve been.

“Do you?”

You huffed and turned away from him, striding toward the bed to adjust your pillows - any sort of casual distraction from the question.

“Why do you want to know?” you countered.

Joel’s hands brushed against your hips from behind, his feather-soft fingertips brushing across the skin above your jeans. You drew in a breath as Joel whispered next to your ear.

“Because I’m a selfish old bastard, and I’m wondering what it looks like.”

“What what looks like?” you ask softly. You knew precisely what he meant but you wanted to hear something from him anyway.

He burrowed his head at the crook of your neck, gently kissing your skin up to the soft spot below your ear. His breath flew over your skin hot and heavy, sending a new wave of heat to your core.

“I want to see your face when you’re all filled up. I gotta see what your little pussy looks like when it’s all stretched out.”

You pushed your hips back flush with his to find a growing bulge trapped in his jeans. Joel rolled his hips into your ass, groaning at the constraint of the rough denim.

“Joel,” you breathed.

He mumbled against your neck, “What is it baby girl?”

Shoving your ass against his crotch, you whined, “I need you. Please… need you so badly.”

His hum rumbled against your skin, sending goosebumps rolling across your arms. A hand wound up to your hair and tugged a good handful back toward him. You gazed up at him with those beautiful glossed over eyes he dreamed about. He pictured this look on your face for a few years now, and he finally had the joy of seeing it, of causing it himself.

“Not givin’ it to you yet, baby,” he tugged once more on your hair when you whined in protest, “Gonna try something different first.”

In one movement you were facing him, finding two dark eyes staring you down, pupils both blown in lust. Joel gripped the back of your head carefully now, cradling you like something precious, something coveted. This was exactly how he saw you. You were someone to protect and take care of, and now it’s shifted to something far more intimate. Joel vowed to himself that he would make you feel every ounce of pleasure you’d been missing out on. All those nights where his hand replaced your pussy built up a frustration only you could truly fix.

Joel crashed his mouth to yours, as he’d done twice before this, and the kiss sent the same heat through your body. You clenched your thighs in a pitiful attempt to gain pressure against your swollen clit, nestled sweetly between your soft folds, soaking your underwear with your slick.

He pressed you backward until your knees hit the edge of the bed. The kiss was no short of pure ecstasy. The way his stubble scratched against your cheeks, the way his breathing grew heavy when you bit at his lower lip, the way his tongue edged into your mouth to explore every inch.

You gasped when Joel pulled away, watching him step to your dresser and draw out the dildo you’d hidden back inside. He turned to you with the toy in hand, wobbling slightly in his grip.

“‘S a pretty big one, sweetheart, you actually use all of it?” his voice was far too casual for a man holding your dildo.

You offer him half a nod, “Kind of. I’ve been trying to get… all the way in.” Joel assessed your words before he joined you on the bed, holding the toy against your stomach, at the base of your pelvis. He let out a low whistle when he saw where the toy’s length ended at your tummy, past your bellybutton.

“All of that inside you… felt pretty daring getting one so big, huh?”

That wasn’t the case and it was the most embarrassing part. The truth is, you chose the size based on your image of Joel. You didn’t even know how endowed he was, but you let your fantasy of him take over. That, and the time your hand brushed against his erection during your last kiss.

“I wanted to see if it would feel like you,” you admitted.

Joel’s eyes crinkled with his laugh, “Darlin’, a toy don’t compare to the real thing. Not really.”

You jabbed his arm at his teasing, “Listen, I’m doing the best with what I got, okay?”

“Yeah, but it’s not the best you could get, now is it?” he purred, pushing forward to plant a kiss on your neck. You shook your head, knowing he was exactly right. The toy would never really feel like the real thing.

You glanced up at him with a nervous expression, furrowing your brows, “What did you want to do?”

Joel looked at you coolly and leaned back onto his elbows. He eyed you, then the toy in his hand, then back to you.

“You gonna make it fit - take it all the way - and I’m gonna help.”

Crimson shaded your cheeks at the thought, staring nervously at the toy. Surely you were wet enough to take it, but the action of pushing further, to get it in completely, had been a challenge. In hopes to boost your bravery, you hunched over him, kissing him harshly as your hands flew to your pants. You fumbled with the waistband and slid them off of you, until you were stark naked, laid and bare before Mr. Miller.

He simply drank you in as you sat nervously in the lamplight. Joel eyed you darkly, his eyes raking from your quivering thighs, your slightly hidden sex - masked by your censoring hands, to your perk nipples atop each soft breast, and to your face, eyes half-lidded in pleasure adjoined with your soft panting.

“Jesus.”

You ducked your head sheepishly, shaking slightly to decline the compliment. Joel looked you over fondly as his hand found your cheek, brushing a thumb over your cheekbone. You glanced down at him, still giving you that goofy smirk and a excited glint in his eye.

Joel kept eye contact as his hand traveled down your body - through the valley between your breasts, down your tummy, to just above your slit, daringly close to dipping between your wet folds. You pushed yourself into your knees and knelt at his side, your aching cunt exposed to him in the dimly lit room.

He trailed his hand up each thigh, halting just before he reached your pussy. Each touch was carefully light in a way that made your whole body shudder against him. A single finger slithered up your thigh once again, finally finding its way through your slit, nestling comfortably against your clit and drawing lazy circles.

You cried out against a hand held at your mouth. Joel’s hand smelled of metal and bourbon, mixed with pine and lemongrass. He smelled smoky and fresh and completely warm against your face. You bestowed your face into his palm as he gained a rhythm on your clit, drawing out the smallest cries against his skin.

“Nice and wet for me already, darlin’, that’s good… that’s such a good girl. Drippin’ and ready.”

Another dumb nod has him chuckling while his finger skirted lightly across your clit, teasing the bundle of nerves until your stomach grew tighter.

“Gonna cum, baby? You gonna cum for me already?” His comment draws another moan from you, falling like a melody past your bitten lips, a chorus straight from heaven, just for Joel.

“It’s okay, baby doll, go ‘head. Cum for daddy,” he said sweetly, the Southern drawl thick through his words.

You unravel around him, jolting your hips as your orgasm takes over your senses. A soft cry sounds through your gritted teeth; you gently grind your hips onto the pad of his finger to ride through the shockwaves. Joel leans up to kiss your shoulder, his lips warm and supple.

“Just as beautiful as I imagined,” whispered Joel. His tongue skirts along your skin to your neck, fully sitting beside you to bore his eyes into yours.

You glanced back at him with lust-blow pupils, steadying your breath as his hand slowed its tempo. Joel gave you a lazy smile, the lamplight catching the salt-and-pepper hairs of his scruff in a soft display of his rugged features.

“Can,” you started, “you be… inside me?”

Joel’s hands found your hips and gripped snugly. The look in his eyes was nothing short of affectionate. Even still, he shook his head.

“Not tonight darlin’,” he replies, “I want you to show me how you look using this-“ he points to the dildo on his opposite side, waiting. “Since you think a toy could be so much better than me-“

“That’s not it at all,” you protest, “I needed something, Joel.”

He holds up a hand to stop you mid-sentence, “You could’ve asked me, but ya didn’t, did ya?”

You gave him a scowl, “I didn’t think this would happen, Joel.”

Ever since you hit eighteen, he wanted you to practice calling him by his first name purely out of comfortability, and since you’d grown up, it seemed more fitting.

He doesn’t reply, but his smirk grows when he brings the dildo over to you, sitting between your thighs. It was embarrassing enough with how little of the toy you could handle this far, and to do it in front of Joel seemed doubly humiliating.

Joel gives your ass a small smack to lift you up. You rise, letting him set the toy between your thighs and beneath your throbbing entrance. He cleared his throat, daring your attention back to him.

“Go at your own pace, but get it all in, sweet girl.”

All thought had left you - your only reply being in an eager nod. You started off slowly, notching the toy in at your tight hole, and slowly bounced yourself along its length. Your legs shook with each movement as you filled yourself more and more, every gyration sent shockwaves of pleasure through every inch of your being.

It took a few moments to ease yourself fully, now bouncing on the dildo’s length until it became glossy with your slick. Joel eyed you affectionately. Your face twisted in ways he couldn’t imagine, and your cunt wrapped around the toy in ways he could only dream of.

Joel patted your thigh as you bottomed out at the hilt of the toy. He pawed at your hips, kneading at the tender flesh of your ass, and pulled you into a grinding motion, setting the dildo ever deeper into your cunt. It struck a new spot deep inside of you, pushing against your cervix. A low moan fell from you as you moved your hips absentmindedly, solely following Joel’s command.

The tightness in your stomach only grew as his praises flowed through your head.

“Such an obedient lil’ thing.”

“That’s a dirty girl, gettin’ all needy like that. Wishin’ it was me in your sweet pussy, don’t you?”

“You have no idea how badly I want to fill you right now, baby doll.”

You mewled softly as another orgasm crashed through you, your hips sputtering as you ground onto the toy. Joel’s hands caressed you through your high, though he didn’t stop tugging your hips. He beamed lazily when you cried his name once again, shuddering around the toy nestled inside of you.

“Attagirl,” whispered Joel, “so fuckin’ beautiful..”

You shook your head at him like before, but he showed no signs of backing down from his stance. Joel peppered your thighs with kisses and he lifted you off the toy, listening to your whines as you were left feeling empty. His cock twitched in his jeans, eager to play.

But not yet. He needed to see this first.

“How was that, sweet girl?”

A beat of silence said every unspoken thing you’d come up with. It was good, but not mind-boggling. Not the ‘fucked til you’re dumb’ pleasure you’d expected from tonight.

Joel patted your ass, “That’s the thing. Toys… they feel nice. But-“ He plants a kiss to your cheek, then your lips, grazing over the swollen skin.

“I’m better.”

The next few minutes consisted of cleaning after yourself and settling back into your clothes. Joel fixed your hair neatly before looking you over.

“Cant stay long tonight, darlin’, gotta get back home.”

You sighed dramatically at him, to which he scoffed away the gesture. On his way out, he gave you a far more longing look - a loving, thoughtful gaze that told you one thing.

You were his. Completely and wholly. It was clear he saw you differently now, as you did him.

Joel fucking Miller.

MDNI spacer is by cafekitsune!

hi everyone! thank you for so much incredible support on this fic!

Just FYI: Blood Flow, and Daddy’s Girl are now up as parts 2 and 3! have fun, lovelies

#fanfiction #fic writing #smut #smut writing #joel miller x reader #joel miller #dbf!joel #joel miller smut #pedro pascal #the last of us #tlou fanfiction #bunny writes #kinktober

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kiss-theggoat · 4 months

Note

I’m back again! I’m a sucker for Thomas Hewitt okay, and there isn’t enough about him! I was wondering if you could do another fic about him, a childhood friend of Thomas’s who moved away comes back in town. She ends up staying with them while she is in town, unknowingly having interrupted their killing plans, leaving a victim down in the basement and unknown from reader. But when the family isn’t home (who knows why) victim escapes and attacks reader. Reader attacks back but ends up killing the victim on accident. In fear she hides the body but the guilt kills her and she ends up telling Thomas. (I know out of character stuff)

A/N: Thank you for the request, I really love writing for Thomas and hope you like! 🖤

Surprise!

Thomas Hewitt x F!Reader

Word Count: 3K

Summary: After years of being away from home, you finally decide to visit your hometown…only to see it’s been shut down. Only one family still lives there, and thankfully, you know them, and they offer to let you stay there! But…after a few days, you start to sense that something isn’t right.

TW: Canon-Typical Violence

The drive to Texas was long, but as you watched the dust and sagebrush go by, your chest swelled with excitement. You hadn’t been back in your hometown since your parents made you leave when you were younger, and now that you finally had your own car and your own money, the first thing on your list was to visit that sleepy little Texas town you’d missed since you left. The only issue was that as you kept driving…you noticed that all of the street signs leading to town were decrepit. You thought…well, you’d been gone a long time…just normal wear and tear under the Texas sun, right?

Wrong.

As you drove into town…you felt your chest tighten at the state of things. Almost every single building was boarded up, windows shattered and spray painted, signs on the ground and covered in dust. There was no way that anyone lived here, hell, the only stoplight in town didn’t even work…

Your car sputtered to a stop in front of what used to be your favorite little convenience store. Where you used to go inside and beg your mom to buy you all of the candy she said was off limits. The same store you got caught stealing a candy bar with your best friend and thought you both might get arrested by the sheriff. You slammed your car door shut, dust clouding around you in a plume of sadness in nostalgia. It was so quiet…not even a cricket…until you heard a siren.

How can an abandoned town have law enforcement? You raised a hand to block the relentless sunlight, turning to the source of the sound, where an old cop car rolled up beside you. The tint on the windows was definitely illegal, but thankfully, the sheriff slowly rolled it down, revealing his scowling face, eyes blocked by sunglasses.

“What’s a pretty thing like you doin’ in town?” He asked, lip stuffed with chew. His voice was gruff, but sounded so oddly familiar to you. You leaned in closer, eyes squinting in order to get a better look at him. You peered at the name badge…Hoyt. That didn’t sound familiar at all…but then he said your name. You continued to look at him in confusion as he pulled his sunglasses off, his eyes full of recognition. This man obviously knew you…but who was he?

He stepped out of the car and shut the door, leaning against it as he spit a puddle of black sludge onto the ground. “Well I’ll be damned. Thought I’d never see your pretty face again.”

“I’m sorry…it’s been a long time since I’ve been here and…the name Hoyt doesn’t ring any bells.” I told him, pointing at the nameplate on his chest.

“Oh this is a buddy’s uniform. Lost my own badge. The name Hewitt ring any bells? Charlie Hewitt.” He spit again, closer to your shoe this time, making you cringe and step away just a little. At first, you didn’t remember the name Hewitt either…until you remembered Thomas. The one boy in your class that never came to school, was always bullied or called names because of his face. Your eyes lit up as you made eye contact with him, a smile spreading onto your lips.

“Hewitt! Yes! I remember Thomas.” You said happily. If the Hewitt family was still here, then the town couldn’t be completely shut down, right?

This seemed to annoy Charlie in a way, his lip curling up into a sneer at the sound of Thomas’ name. “Course you remember that big oaf. Hard to miss ‘im.” He spat the rest of his chew onto the ground, wiping his lip with the back of his hand, “Where you plannin’ on stayin’?”

This made you sigh. You were hoping the little motel would still be open, but you’d just driven past it, and from the looks of it, its only residents were probably rats and roaches. “Well, actually…I probably have to drive back to Austin tonight. I didn’t know the town had…” you stopped talking, eyes landing on Charlie’s wrinkled face, not wanting to say anything rude about the hometown you shared.

“Gone under?” He broke out into a wheezy laugh, making it very clear to you that he’d probably been smoking like a chimney since you left. “Yeah. Not a lotta folks left. But Austin’s a long way and it’s gettin’ dark…not safe for a pretty little thing like you to be alone.” The way he spoke sent shivers down your spine. You knew him…but he seemed …different. His eyes had a sinister glow to them, the way he stared down at your chest made you want to hop in your car and never come back. “Why don’t you come stay at the house? M’sure Luda Mae would love havin’ another girl around.” He took a step closer to you, eyes still focused where they shouldn’t be.

You spoke quickly, definitely quick enough to make your uneasiness known. “No, that’s okay…I really don’t mind driving back into the city.”

This seemed to amuse Charlie. “Oh, we insist. Tommy will be there…don’t think he’s seen someone like you in his whole life.”

For some reason, the mention of Thomas made you actually want to go. You couldn’t quite put your finger on it, but your memories of Thomas, while very little, were only fond. He was a big kid for his age, and very misunderstood, but always very kind and quiet. And…he did say there would be another girl there, right? So you wouldn’t just be alone with this creep. Maybe going to visit the Hewitt’s would be a nice walk down memory lane.

“Okay…sure. It is getting pretty late, I guess.” You agreed, making him smile and show off his stained yellow teeth.

“Perfect. Just drive behind me.” He told you, opening the door to his cop car.

The drive to the Hewitt’s home was longer than you’d thought, and their house was huge. As you parked behind Charlie, you stared up at the house in awe, seeing every single window illuminated. You supposed that with the entire town pretty much out of commission, they owned whatever property they wanted. Your shoes crunched against the gravel as Charlie led you inside, and the moment he opened the door, a feeling of discomfort settled deep in your stomach.

The house was cozy, but eclectic. Too eclectic, like every item inside belonged to a different owner at some point in time. It smelled like a mixture of expired perfume and rotting meat, a sickeningly sweet film settling on your sweaty skin, making it hard to breath inside the home. You stuck a smile on your face anyways, not wanting to seem rude as you were led into the dining room. It seemed as though you were interrupting dinner, everyone already seated in front of their bowls, full of some sort of stew. Your presence immediately turned heads, all six eyes fixed on you and Charlie standing in the doorway.

“Well I don’t believe it…” The lady whispered, who you immediately recognized to be Luda Mae. God, she’d gotten old. You remember her being old when you were in elementary school, and part of you wondered how she was still alive. Across from her sat an elderly man, who somehow looked twenty years older than her. He was sitting there, eyes on you but unfocused, like he was staring at the air between you and the table. Last to meet your gaze was Thomas.

Your heart sank when you saw him, or what was exposed. The leather mask covering his face upset you beyond reason. You knew that Tommy had been bullied for his looks when you guys were little, but never thought he’d make a custom mask to wear, even around his family, and at dinner for god's sake. That’s when it occurred to you, he wasn’t even eating.

“Found ‘er down by the old gas station lookin’ for a place to stay. Ain't she pretty?” Charlie asked, his voice low and predatory as walked towards his seat at the head of the table. The way he spoke about you, like you were just a piece of meat, made your skin crawl.

You gave everyone a polite smile and a little wave before speaking. “Well, I expected the motel to still be open…really, I can find somewhere else to stay, I hate to impose if-“

“Oh don’t be silly!” Luda interrupted. “We’d love to have you. You’ve just gotten so pretty…hasn’t she Tommy?” Your eyes shot to a very flustered looking Thomas, his eyes fixed on his steaming bowl of stew, still untouched.

“Please dear, have a seat, you’re just in time for dinner.”

To be completely honest…you didn’t want to eat their dinner. Something about the house and their demeanor made you want to leave, but if there was one thing you learned about growing up in Texas, it was to accept the hospitality.

“Thank you, Luda Mae.” You said softly, accepting the seat beside Thomas. Charlie scooped a full ladle of soup into a bowl and set it in front of you. With clammy hands you grabbed the spoon, noticing that none of their silverware matched. The spoon you had was delicate, handle slim with swirled details adorning the shiny silver.

All of the Hewitt’s stared at you with prying eyes as you scooped yourself a bite. It contained a chunk of meat, a carrot, and an onion, along with the broth they soaked in.

The moment that stew touched your tongue, you knew something was wrong. The meat tasted off, way too gamey. You’d had your fair share of meats, different kinds of game and homemade foods made with hunting prizes but this…unlike anything you’d ever tasted. It was tender, and didn’t taste bad, but the unfamiliar taste tainted the whole soup, causing alarm bells to go off in your head.

You were soon distracted by the sounds of the family scarfing down their own dinner, spoons hitting porcelain and lips smacking. In no time, your bowl was empty, and so was everyone else’s…except for Thomas’. But, this seemed normal among dinner time as Luda Mae cleared the dishes without a word.

“Tommy. Show our guest to ‘er room for the night, would ya?”

The wooden chair screeched against the floor when Thomas stood. He just seemed to keep going…he towered over you. You craned your neck to stare at him, mouth open and eyes widening. You stood from your own chair, noticing how much larger he was than you. You stood at his chest, and he easily doubled you in width.

Without a word he started walking past you, and you figured he meant for you to follow, so you did. The more you explored the house, the less cozy it got, and by the time you made it to the guest room, it was plain and simple, just a bed with white sheets in the middle of an empty room. Thomas stood at the door, taking up the entire entrance.

“Thank you, Thomas.” You said quietly, giving him a small smile that made him turn away from you. “It’s really nice to see you.”

The longer you stared, the more you realized that he was still the same old Tommy. A gentle giant with pretty brown eyes that sucked you in until you didn’t want to look away.

Just as you were getting lost in your thoughts, Charlie shoved Thomas aside, holding your bag that you’d left in your car.

“‘Ere you go, gorgeous.”

“Thanks, Charlie…” you said softly, grabbing the bag. That was nice of him, but you don’t remember giving him your car keys…

“My rooms just downstairs if you need anythin’.” Charlie sent you an uncomfortable wink, reminding you to lock your door tonight, and walked away. Thomas stood with his head down, still in the doorway.

“Uhm…goodnight, Thomas.” You said softly, a smile gracing your face again. This time, he looked at you. And you could’ve sworn that before you closed the door, his eyes crinkled, like he might’ve smiled too. You closer the door, and grumbled at the lack of a lock, finally getting ready for bed.

A shriek yanked you from your peaceful slumber, making you sit up straight in bed. Your heart was pounding, and you reached over to turn on the small bedside lamp. You were hoping it was just a nightmare, something you could just ignore and go back to the weirdly comfy mattress but the longer you sat there, the more you heard. Footsteps, whispering…but they sounded so frantic. Not like someone getting up for a glass of water or a midnight snack.

Slowly and hesitantly, you walked towards the door and pulled it open, bare feet finding every single splinter in the floor until you were finally in the hallway, staring down the stairs in the dark with wide, fearful eyes. Everything seemed fine…until a woman stumbled into your field of vision. She was bloody, open wounds on her back in an odd spot…did she just break into the house? She was near the front door and none of the Hewitt’s were with her. You stared at her, panicking, especially when you made eye contact.

Your blood went cold and you quickly backed up, barely hanging onto the banister.

“You have to help me, please! You have no idea what is going on here, we have to get out, you have to help me!” The girl started to ramble, but her voice was a whisper-like scream. Her bloodied hands hit the stairs and she began to crawl towards you.

You stared blankly, overcome by the fear and shock of seeing her inside the home…before you knew it, she made it to you. She gripped your ankle with a sticky hand, pulling you closer to the stairs. “Please!” She hissed, her eyes wide and crazed.

Instinctively, you tried to kick her hand away from you, pulling away. You felt your breathing speed up, panic overwhelming you. “Get off me!”

Her eyes flashed with realization, and she immediately recoiled. “You…you’re one of them…oh my god!” She wailed, voice full of dread and tears flowing down her cheeks. One of them? What did that even mean? This sorrow and dread only lasted a few seconds…before she turned to rage. Her face scrunched and it was like she’d been struck by lightning, body invigorated and suddenly strong enough to function. She stood and lunged at you, hands on your shoulders.

Your breath left your lungs as she slammed you against the wall, the back of your head aching in a way it never had before. In an attempt to get her off of you, you pushed her as hard as you could, feeling the slick blood on her shoulder and her neck where your hands hit her. Your eyes were closed tightly as you shoved, but it didn’t take vision to know what happened to her. Her body stumbled down the stairs, thumping all the way down, groans and grunts escaping her as she trailed blood all the way down.

You covered your mouth with your trembling hands…you’d just killed someone…you felt nauseous, you could feel your stomach turning as you stared at her body at the bottom of the stairs, laying limp. You prayed and prayed that she’d move, but she never did. A door slammed open from somewhere downstairs and that’s when you realized…

You’d just killed someone inside of someone else’s home. Tears rolled down your face and you slid down the wall to the ground, knees shaking and unable to support your weight anymore. Heavy footsteps approached the dead body at the bottom of the stairs…and Thomas came into your field of view. He stared nonchalantly at the woman, but turned to face you when he heard your sob.

“Thomas I’m so sorry I don’t know what happened…” you whispered, face bright red from crying and entire body shaking. Thomas stood still for a moment, but when he started moving, nothing could’ve stopped him. He knelt on the stairs in front of you, huge hand taking yours.

The warmth radiated through your fingers and up into your arms, making them feel less shaky and cold and traumatized. You stared up at Thomas, bleary eyes filled with tears, realizing that he wasn’t mad…or scared…he wanted to help you. Relief overwhelmed you, and you couldn’t stop yourself from moving closer to him, arms wrapped around his broad waist, head buried against his chest. With your panicking, you barely noticed the fact he wore a button up and a leather apron, droplets of blood smearing against your cheek. You didn’t care. Thomas wrapped his tree trunk arms around you and held you against him…it was like nothing else mattered. Comfort washed over you and for a moment you felt like you hadn’t just killed a woman for no reason.

“S-she just attacked me, she jumped at me and grabbed me and she was yelling and-“

Thomas’ hand gently stroked your hair as if to shush you, his cheek resting against the top of your head as he held you as close as he could.

There was nothing that would stop him from being close to you. Not the three bodies in the basement, and definitely not the bitch that hopped off the hook.

#slasher x reader #slashers #horror movies #horror fanfiction #slasher x y/n #thomas hewitt x y/n #thomas hewitt x you #thomas hewitt x reader #thomas hewitt

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luna0713hunter · 4 months

Text

Choso was never interested in dating.

Ever since he was young,and with their parents' sudden death,his only goal in life was to take care of his younger brother,Yuji.

Yuji was a handful since the very day he was born,and with how sick their grandpa was,Choso didnt have anyone to trust Yuji with. So he ditched his friends after school, skipped classes as much as possible and declined anybody's help because;who could he trust his only family left (beside his grandpa) with?

But when Yuji started highschool,and wasnt so alone anymore with that Megumi and Nobara girl;he insisted that Choso finally continue with his study on where he had left.

Choso reluctantly,started college again.

It was the same as highschool;he wouldnt hang out with anybody,just going back home straight from lectures or part time jobs. He rathered spend his time taking care of Yuji or cleaning their home when he could instead of meaningless things like going out for drinks,or dating,or simply talking with anyone.

And he really,was ok with all this.

Until,well,you decided to sit beside him on one of the most boring lectures he's ever had in his life.

Choso doesnt acknowledge you at first;simply staring at a photo Yuji had just sent him while hanging out with his friends after school. A small smile tugs at the corner of his lips and he lets out a heavy sigh; Yuji had grown so much so fast. He was proud.

"This is such a fucking boring lecture."

Your annoyed whisper snaps him out of his daze,and he casts a side glance to you. You send a smile his way and shake you head.

"I would literally kill to leave right now."

Choso takes good look at you;from how you've styled your hair to your shimmering eyes shining brightly. You rose-colored lips look soft,and-

Choso clears his throat.

You're pretty.

"Same." An awkward pause,then "do you want to ditch the lecture?"

When you give him a surprised look,he clears his throat again.

"For coffee."

And the smile he receives in return is almost blinding.

So as soon as the professor turns his back to you, you're both making a run for it. The small excitement of ditching class has you giggling and Choso relishes the sound.

"I'm y/n,by the way."

"Choso."

You give him a knowing smile and wink.

"I know." When he gives you a confused look,you laugh and together you start to walk toward the cafe near the campus. "I've known you since you started this class. We were in the same lectures for some time,but you never seemed like you cared about any of them. Always on your phone, rarely smiling,and the few times I've heard you talk,it was always about this 'Yuji' dude." You nudge his side with your elbow,but for some reason,he feels like your smile has deemed slightly.

"You're boyfriend?"

Choso makes a disgusted face and groans.

"He's my younger brother. I've took care of him ever since he was small. Naturally, he's all i talk about since i spend all my time with him."

And at the metion of 'brother',your face breaks out in the brightest smile.

"Oh gosh thats so cute!how old is he?whats he like?!"

And for once,Choso feels relaxed talking about Yuji. He doesnt receive bored looks from;only pure excitement and laughter as he tells you some funny stories about Yuji's childhood while you both sat down at the cafe.

And before you know it,three hours have passed and neither of you show any sign of leaving.

When you finish the small chocolate cake that Choso has bought you,you sigh and rest your head on your arms across the table.

"I dont wanna leave! you're fun to talk to!"

Choso stares;the corner of his mouth twitching upwards.

"We can continue tomorrow. Over lunch."

At the mention of seeing together again,you perk up so fast that has Choso letting out a small chuckle.

"Really?like a date?"

And when Choso returns home that evening with a small grin on his lips,Yuji drops the laundry basket he's holding.

"What's with that face?!why are you smiling?"

Choso hangs his jacket and moves to kitchen to start dinner.

"Yuji,i wont be home for lunch tomorrow. Will you be ok?"

"Why?you got a date or something?"

Choso smiles and starts cooking.

"Yeah. Something like that."

#choso kamo #choso x reader #jjk choso #jujutsu kaisen choso #jujutsu kaisen #jjk x reader #jujutsu kaisen fanfic #jujutsu kaisen x reader

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rin-fukuroi · 4 months

Text

𝐖𝐡𝐨'𝐬 𝐆𝐨𝐧𝐧𝐚 𝐒𝐭𝐨𝐩 𝐌𝐞? [𝐀𝐥𝐡𝐚𝐢𝐭𝐡𝐚𝐦]

Please do not translate or publish my works without my permission.

The originals of my works can be read here

Fandom: Genshin Impact

Pairings: older brother!Alhaitham x fem!reader

Warnings: NSFW, modern AU, incest, loss of virginity, size kink, cockwarming, creampie.

▶• ılıılıılıılıılıılı. Tommee Profitt feat. Jung Youth - Who's Gonna Stop Me

Note: English is not my native language, so I apologize if there are errors in the text qq

Just let me be reborn as the younger sister of this divine man (っ˘ω˘ς )

art: @eriimyon

You've never even thought about the fact that girls your age should be interested in guys. Every time you heard your friends enthusiastically discussing the looks of your classmates, you felt so far away from it. Your gaze has never clung to men passing by, and your heart has never even been touched by sympathy for anyone. That's how it was until it came to your brother.

«Your brother is so sexy! Does he have a girlfriend?»

Is it true? Perhaps… the only man you've ever looked at has always been him. Since childhood, you have secretly admired the success of your older brother, not missing the opportunity to ask him to pull you up in your studies when he had a free minute. It could hardly be said that Alhaitham enjoyed spending time with you when you were a child. This man is too difficult to understand. This stoically indifferent expression on his face, the cold gazes of emerald eyes and a monotonous low voice are what have accompanied you since birth.

As soon as Alhaitham saw tears welling up in your innocent eyes, he instantly silently left your room, before getting a clear answer who made you cry. You didn't know where he went or what he was doing, but any of your problems were solved the very next day, which gave rise to this feeling of unconditional security when you looked at his tall figure and heard these quiet sighs and banal phrases uttered in a quiet indifferent tone only to dismiss your obsessive questions about what suddenly happened to the classmates who bullied you. A certain modesty of your older brother has planted in your heart the belief that, no matter how distant Alhaitham may seem, he cares about you in his own way and will never allow his little sister to cope with difficulties alone, even if you'll hardly ever be able to hear words of support from him.

And now, ten years later, you still look at Alhaitham with unspoken gratitude and adoration, despite the fact that his presence in your life is barely noticeable. You always sneak a peek into your brother's room when he's not at home, carefully examining the few things he left on the table. Everything that belongs to Alhaitham always arouses your genuine interest, although the entire contents of his room, perhaps, can be classified as essential items and mountains of books filling the shelves of tall cabinets. Every time your fingers slide over the numerous book spines, and your eyes memorize several titles in order to secretly read them. Maybe this way you can get closer to him — that's what you always thought.

But still, is your obsession with him really normal? This question has been in your head since the image of Alhaitham began to pop up in your thoughts more often when you were alone with yourself. Loving your older brother is absolutely normal, isn't it? And remembering how you once saw Alhaitham tired after work, throwing off his shirt and exposing his muscular back and broad shoulders in his room while you were passing by the ajar door is also normal. You only had a moment to capture in your memory the elastic muscles of his chest and the V-shaped line of his abs disappearing behind his lowered trousers, but it was more than enough to keep this image in your thoughts for several weeks.

«Your brother is so sexy...»

Is this the real reason why a blush now sticks to your cheeks when your eyes meet Alhaitham's gaze? Is this the reason why you're touching yourself so obscenely for the first time, replaying over and over in your memory what you probably shouldn't have seen? But you comfort yourself with the thought that men often strip to the waist and there is nothing indecent about it. You've already seen him in this form as a child, but why does it bother you so much now and seem so wrong?

You need to stop this.

You've spent hours watching guys your age, trying to awaken those emotions that should torment a girl's heart when looking at admittedly attractive members of the opposite sex, but you don't feel anything. Just boredom.

You've also never heard of Alhaitham having a relationship with anyone. Of course, if you had asked him a question, he would have replied that he is too busy or that he isn't interested, but then what about you? Are you also not interested in relationships, or is there another reason why you can't keep up a conversation with friends who are so immersed in matters of the heart that you don't understand? The answer seemed so close, somewhere on the surface. You only have to stretch out your hand and you'll see what you are trying so desperately not to notice.

Therefore, now you try not to make noise, sneaking back to Alhaitham's door when you hear him enter his room late at night, probably tired after a hard day's work. You need to look at him again, but your heart is so restless every time you even try to imagine how you start a conversation with him. Since when did it become so difficult for you to communicate with your own brother?

You peek cautiously through the half-open door, noticing Alhaitham lounging in an armchair with a book in his hand. His long fingers cling to his black tie, getting rid of the suffocating pressure on his neck in one light practiced movement. His lips are slightly parted as your brother sighs heavily, unbuttoning the top couple of buttons on his slightly rumpled shirt before leaning back in his chair.

Long eyelashes barely touch the skin of Alhaitham's face when he closes his eyes, combing the unruly strands of silver bangs with his palm. He's really handsome, you can't deny that. But you've seen enough men that you could call beautiful, but just looking at Alhaitham causes a thrill in your chest, the nature of which you are so desperate to understand.

— How long are you going to stand in the doorway? If you need anything, come in.

Your eyes widen with fright, and your muscles seem to turn to stone, not allowing you to move from your place, when you hurriedly shift your gaze from Alhaitham's chest slightly peeking out from under the cotton fabric to the emerald irises looking at you with slight irritation.

— I, uh… I'm sorry, I don't need anything! — you almost take off, ready to run back to your room, when you notice Alhaitham getting up from his chair, approaching your confused figure.

It all happened so fast. You didn't even have time to understand anything, as Alhaitham's big hand wrapped around your shoulder, forcing you to go inside, when you heard the slam of the door behind you, to which your back is now pressed. Your brother's free hand presses into the wooden surface, enclosing you between him and the door, while the fingers of his other hand cling to the buttons of his shirt, unbuttoning one by one and exposing the relief of Alhaitham's body right in front of your face.

— Wh-what are you doing?! — you turn away, blunting your gaze to the floor, trying to hide the way your cheeks instantly flushed when the pleasant scent of his perfume hit your nose.

— Huh? Isn't that what you were just looking at?

— I don't…

The words get stuck somewhere deep in your throat when Alhaitham's long fingers wrap around your wrist, guiding your hand to his chest. As soon as the pads touch your brother's skin, this aching pain comes back to your lower abdomen. He's so warm. You can feel the muscles tense under your touch, becoming even harder, you can feel his heart beating steadily, as if absolutely nothing unusual is happening right now. Alhaitham is calm, as always, carefully watching your funny reaction from his height. Your hand trembles in his grip, but your fingers lightly press on the elastic flesh, causing embarrassment to tingle the skin of your face even more.

— Do you think I don't notice the way you look at me? I always assumed that my sister was a diligent good girl, but what do I see now? — Alhaitham leans towards your ear, guiding your palm lower over his prominent abs as his hot breath touches your face. — Now you're just as spoiled as all adults.

His words make your stomach churn with fear. The way the pads of your fingers slide over every bump of his tense stomach, the way his lips are close to your face, the way Alhaitham's breathing becomes more ragged when your hand stops on the belt of his trousers, it seems so wrong, but for some reason you just stay silent, letting him do it to you. You can feel the heat rushing to the bottom of your stomach when Alhaitham guides your fingers to his groin. You've never touched anyone… there before. Even through the dense fabric, the warmth emanating from his dick touches your hand, which unconsciously wraps around the hard bulge, causing your heart to pound wildly, pulsating in your ears.

— H-Haitham, stop it, I don't understand what you want… — the volume of your voice drops to a whisper.

It's so damn hard. Your body heats up treacherously, and moisture begins to accumulate between your clenching thighs. You press against the door, trying to escape at least somewhere from the cage in which Alhaitham imprisoned you, but he sees how your legs are shaking and feels your pulse quicken, quietly grinning at how something your body tells him goes against the words that come unsteadily from your tongue.

— I don't remember teaching you to lie. Didn't you spy on me a few weeks ago because you wanted to? And that's what you came for today.

— No! I would never…

— You're too bad at hiding your desires for a girl who knows better than anyone that I'm observant enough. Can't any of your peers meet your needs, huh?

— How do you…

— I know everything I need to know. I even know you're still a virgin, but you still want me to fuck you. But it's reasonable.

— What are you talking about?! Is it okay to want something like this with own brother? — you pull your hand back, ostentatiously clenching your fingers into a fist and pulling away from Alhaitham's face, almost buried in the curve of your neck. Your brother straightens up, towering over you like a heavy shadow, now looking into your eyes, desperately trying not to break eye contact. What do you want to prove to him if your other hand is now nervously fiddling with the fabric of your nightgown, and your teeth are unconsciously biting your lower lip, trying hard to remain calm even when the fabric of your underwear is soaked with warm moisture?

— Yes, — your heart sank in your chest when you heard such a short and clear answer, uttered with a completely serious expression on your brother's face. — There's no one who knows you better than I do. It makes sense that you want your first time to be with me. Objectively, I think girls your age really find me attractive, so that doesn't raise any questions either. I don't understand why you're so puzzled, Y/N, given the fact that, obviously for both of us, you've wanted this for a long time, which means you've had time to weigh all the pros and cons since you came to me today.

His words sound like this… makes sense, but then why do you feel that your desires are so obscene? Is the problem that he's your brother? But Alhaitham is right, you spent almost every day of your life with him, shared your most intimate things with him, even if he wasn't interested, he was always there for you, and what's strange about the fact that you are... in love with him?

— I… I think I'm just confused… I need to be alone and think about this...

— There's no need for that.

The randomly scattered pieces of the puzzle finally came together in a clear picture. You can feel your brother's soft lips pressing against yours, the warmth of his palm sliding up your thigh, making its way under the fabric of your homemade shorts. And it doesn't seem wrong. It's so good. Finally, the warmth that your friends seemed to be talking about spread in your chest. When a loved one touches you, when he presses his lips to yours for the first time. Your body answered all the questions swarming in your head for you as your arms wrapped around Alhaitham's neck, deepening the kiss. So clumsily, but your tongue meets his, more insistently dominating your mouth. What an indescribable feeling.

It's so hot, it's so hard to breathe, but you want more when you pull your brother closer, and his knee settles so vulgarly between your legs, pressing into the heat of your crotch. You wanted to push Alhaitham away so as not to stain his trousers with the moisture that your shorts must have soaked through, but there was nothing you could do with how damn pleasant this friction feels caused by his knee pushing against your writhing body.

Alhaitham's fingertips hook into the waistband of your shorts, hastily sliding the soft fabric down your thighs until it crumples on the floor under your feet. A moan escapes from your chest, muffled by his lips, when you feel your toes lift off the floor, and your back presses harder against the door of your brother's room while he scoops you up in his arms, forcing you to wrap your legs around his hips. A hard cock presses against your crotch through the fabric separating you from the hot flesh.

It's only when his lips finally leave yours that you realize what's going on. Alhaitham's green eyes seemed to look as clouded as yours. You've never seen him like this before. Although his face still didn't express a single emotion, something had clearly changed. Your brother is looking at you with a desire you've never seen in anyone's eyes. It's so strange, so unusual, but the only thing you know is that you like it. You like to feel desired, you like to feel his dick throbbing with another unobtrusive thrust between your legs spread for him, you like to hold on to Alhaitham's muscular shoulders like this while he hastily unbuttons the belt and zipper of his trousers, then pushing aside the lace fabric of your underwear.

The hot head of the cock slides up your slippery crotch, covering the base with sticky moisture. Even without looking down, you could feel with your own body how impressive Alhaitham's dick is. If it weren't for the intoxicating pleasure caused by the delicious friction of his throbbing erection, you'd probably be terrified even at the thought of him entering you. But there was another good reason for your calmness. You know your brother will never hurt you. Perhaps he was right again, as always. You only want him because no one will take care of you like Alhaitham is.

Your throat is bursting with moans that you are desperately trying to hold back so that your parents on the ground floor won't hear you, and it gets even harder when you feel Alhaitham's cock slowly begin to stretch you, sinking inch by inch into your warm insides.

— You're damn tight, Y/N. I'm even flattered that you saved yourself for me.

— Haitham, stop embarrassing me! — you whisper loudly, barely managing to cover your mouth with your hand when his hips meet your ass in one sharp thrust. It… hurts a little, but how perfectly his cock filled your insides. You can feel the blood pulsing in the veins running along the base of his hard organ while he remains motionless, causing your walls to involuntarily contract.

— Why are you confused by such simple facts? I find such emotions inappropriate when my cock is already inside you.

— Just… move… — you look away, tightening your arms around his neck.

— Hm-m? You got used to it so quickly, it's commendable, — you feel Alhaitham's dick pushing even harder into your cervix, which seemed impossible when he pressed his hips even tighter against yours.

It's so unusual to feel him so deep inside. His cock is so huge that it feels like he's forced all the organs in your body to make room. But it's so damn little. Your walls spasm around the hard flesh over and over again, wanting to feel more stimulation, which Alhaitham deprives you of just watching you squirm in his arms, and tears come to your eyes.

— Haitham! — you scream, digging your nails into the skin of the back of his head, when footsteps begin to be heard approaching the door.

— Y/N! Y/N, are you at your brother's?

Shit. As soon as you hear your mother's voice, your stomach twists painfully, and you freeze, holding your breath, casting a frightened look at Alhaitham.

The corners of your brother's lips turn up in a slight smile as he brings his index finger to his lips, motioning for you to be quiet.

«What the hell is that supposed to mean?!»

— Yes, mom, she's in my room.

You exhale with relief, seeming to understand what he meant, but your calm is instantly disrupted when Alhaitham's cock abruptly bursts out of your insides, then stretching and filling you to the limit again. Your eyes widen in mute shock as you press your palm tightly to your mouth, trying to swallow any sound that intends to escape from your throat. Your back is pressed against the door over and over again, the only barrier between the dirty sight that is happening in your brother's room from the eyes of an unsuspecting mother, while Alhaitham's hips slam into your ass with a soft thud at a rough impatient pace.

— Oh, then I'll come to you now!

Your brother is silent, not stopping for a second, further terrifying your poor pounding heart. You tremble, shaking your head in panic, trying to convey to Alhaitham without words what he himself should understand, but for some reason his lips stretch into an even wider smile when one of his palms moves to your crotch, and his fingers press on your clitoris, sending a treacherous wave through your body pleasure.

The moment it took your mother to get to the door seemed to last forever, while your lower abdomen was bursting with delicious spasms that you couldn't resist. Your back arches and your hips shake as the knot in your stomach unties. This orgasm isn't comparable to the ones you brought yourself to on your own. The heat settling in every cell of your body is so intoxicating that it seems as if you are about to lose consciousness. The walls of your vagina clenched so tightly around Alhaitham's cock, still not slowing down, that even he couldn't restrain the quiet moan that escaped from his lips while his fingers continued to massage the sensitive bundle of nerves, only prolonging this magical feeling that causes addiction.

The handle twitches, and you feel a slight pressure from the other side of the door.

— Haitham? Is your door closed?

Your mother's worried voice dispels the fog that has enveloped your consciousness.

— I'll be down in a minute, mom! Brother, n-gh… Helps me with the preparation for the test, — you needed all the self-control you had left so that at least your voice didn't tremble, sounding confident enough without arousing suspicion.

— Are you all right? You sound kind of upset...

— Yes, it's all right! Just wait for me downstairs!

It's unbearable. You are so sensitive, but your brother's cock continues to persistently penetrate you, touching all the right points in your insides to make you feel that heady heat rushing to the bottom of your stomach again, even when his hand, covered with your moisture, returns to your thigh. You can hear your mother muttering to herself before you hear soft, retreating footsteps in the hallway.

— What the fuck, Haitham?! — you snap back, weakly slapping your brother, who is apparently amused by your outburst, on the shoulders.

— You did a great job. It would be awkward if she insisted on coming in.

— Awkward?! D-damn it! — you no longer hold back your moans, desperately biting your lower lip to somehow muffle your sounds, when your hands cling to Alhaitham's neck again, gaining an even more careless and rude pace.

The door knocks softly under the pressure of erratic thrusts. Your brother's cock seemed to get even bigger and harder, stretching your tight walls almost painfully. For the first time, the soft sounds of Alhaitham's hoarse moans cut into your ears, which sound even more beautiful than you could have imagined in your dirtiest fantasies. His lips are open, and the muscles of his forearms are so sexually tense when he literally hammers you into the door, chasing his own orgasm. You don't know how it should feel, but you're sure that he's as close as you are, teetering on the edge of a high that seems to drive you crazy.

A second orgasm hits your poor body just when you feel something warm and sticky spreading in your insides, and Alhaitham's hips are pressed tightly against your ass, remaining almost motionless. He rests his head on your shoulder, exhaling heavily from his lungs as you both try to relive the intense pleasure spreading somewhere under your skin.

You barely come to your senses when you feel your brother's cock leaving your insides, and he gently lowers you to the floor, barely standing on your feet and instantly grabbing his arm to keep from losing your balance. Sticky drops of semen trickle down the inside of your thighs, and you watch in fascination as they settle on the floor, gradually coming out of a state of intoxication and digesting what just happened.

— So you need help with the test? — Alhaitham's voice sounds as cold and indifferent as usual again, as if nothing unusual has happened right now, as he takes off his shirt and slides his trousers down his muscular, seductive thighs. You give an awkward glance at his cock as he walks past, heading to the closet to change into his home clothes. How did he fit in you anyway…

— Very funny… — you adjust your underwear, awkwardly trying to pick up the cream drops from your feet before you see your brother handing you a napkin. — Thanks.

Alhaitham silently turns away, pulling a T-shirt over his magnificent body, and you are mesmerized by watching him now at a close distance, and not hiding behind the door of his room.

— Listen… You're going to move away from here, aren't you? Well, someday.

— Huh? Why do you ask? — your brother turns around, looking at you through slightly narrowed eyelids. — Yes. I've only stayed in this house to keep an eye on you sometimes, but I guess my help won't be needed anymore.

— Take me with you! — you grab the soft fabric of his T-shirt, looking up at Alhaitham with a pleading look.

— Ho-oh, I didn't think you didn't like to be here so much, — your brother crosses his arms over his chest, taking in your petite figure with an appraising glance. — What if I ever get into a relationship?

You're sulking, hastily pulling your hand away, about to just leave, when Alhaitham's big palm touches your jaw, pulling your face down for a kiss. Now your beloved brother's lips are touching yours not with the same desire that they touched the first time. Is he kissing you now… tenderly?

As soon as his lips leave yours, you feel your face turn red again when your gaze meets his cold aquamarine eyes.

— If that's what you want, I don't mind.

#headcanons #genshin x reader #genshin impact #genshin impact x reader #genshin drabbles #genshin smut #genshin impact smut #alhaitham #alhaitham x reader #alhaitham x you #alhaitham smut

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deaddovedecadence · 6 months

Note

hello ! I hope you’re well I wanted to ask you if are planning to do something about the platonic batfamily ? Thank you for your work, you’re literally my favorite blog 🥰. (sorry if there are spelling mistakes)

Ah thank you for the question i love it so much! What we’re doing today is breaking down each yandere and how they treat you in order

Alfred: very gentle, very caring. He makes you think that he’s on your side only to betray you if you ever try to run away. His loyalty is to the health and well being of the family and if you left it would nasty for all parties involved. He isn’t overly possessive, and is the most likely to let you out and about (so long as you’re with him or another trusted member of the family)

Bruce: At least you were a tool for making up with his son, but he grew to see you as his own child. You’re younger then Dick so he treats you as such, and is very unlikely to let you out of his grip,/let you out of the house because he’s paranoid. He’s the ultimate possessive yandere, wanting to keep you safe in the house at all times. He’s like this with his children too but because they’re fighters/have proven themselves it’s a lot different

Dick: Good luck with this. Dick sees you as someone who deserves childhood, who deserves to be young, so he treats you younger then you actually are. He’s very possessive, and almost doesn’t realize that you’re capable of taking care of yourself and he’s ver y smothering because of that. He’s the type of yandere to be in his own world and not really see. things as they actually are..

Jason: Caretaker to the fucking MAX. He likes. taking care of people and things that he considers his and you are absolutely one of those things to him. He needs to tak3 of things because it makes him feel real, feel. focused again especially when he’s tired of angry. The least likely to ever hurt you but will break you mentally if he has to.

Cass: does not get it, at first. She doesn’t understand why her family wants something that she perceives as helpless as one of them. Cass is all about getting her shit done and you interfere with that. It isn’t until she sees Jason visibly relax around you and stay in the same room as bruce that she understands. You keep things stable which means that you need to stay. She‘ s obsessively, can be cruel and uses physical punishment like forced dancing or sparring to keep you in check if you leave or deny your place in the family.

Tim: Oh good fuck. Tim is pretty close to yandere in canon, he’s terrifying, possessive of what he thinks is his and cruel as hell. with you he’s cruel cold, only to turn gentle when he deems it the right moment. Tim wants to break you because that means that you won’t run away and try to go and be somewhere else (with someone else). Tim is sadiastic and if he and damian are working together it’s best to go and beg jason for sanctuary from them.

Duke: Honeslty you aren’t sure whether he’s like you or like them at first because Duke is so easy doing, listens to your problems so well and makes. you feel like you’r valid for being angry. It’s all true what he says, it’s just that he also is on his family’s side about you and is slowly working his way into your heart in a way that the others can’t because they’ve never been where you (and he) has. Duke is the gentle yandere unless you really manage to make him angry by getting hurt in any way.

Damian: I wish you the best of luck. Damian is the son of thalia and bruce. His ver y nature is to be possessive over anything that he considers his and you are his. You’re his older sibling in a way that Dick is, someone to be trusted, someone to ask questions too, but that does not mean he’ll let you escape. If anything the thought makes him infuriated and he’s likely to blow up. Damian is obsessive, and sadistic, willing to do anything if it means that you’re safe at home with him.

#yandere #yandere writing prompts #yandere batman #yandere batfamily #yandere batfam #yandere jason todd #yandere dc #platonic yandere batfam #yandere x gn reader #dick grayson #jason todd #cassandra cain #duke thomas #damian wayne #batfam #batfamily #tim drake #batboy tag

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e-dollly · 3 months

Text

◦○•~A New Addition~•○◦

Pairing: Dad! Azriel x Mom! Reader, Children(OCS)x Dad! AzrielxMom! Reader

Resume: Your kids come home to meet the new addition of the family.

Word count:1.1k

Genre: Fluff

Warnings: Grown-up children and a newborn maybe ?

A/N: So this is what happen when you combine running on four hours of sleep and extreme baby fever that has been going on for way too long. Please be nice as English is not my first language, nor as I don't write that often. I also took way too long to write this, but I really wanted to post it, so you guys are getting scraps eheh

Azriel always wanted a large family. He wanted to make sure his kids would never feel how he did during his childhood. Whenever he felt insecure about his ability to be a father, you always reassured him.

Now that your five children left the familial household, the house felt empty, and soon enough, you got pregnant again. 53 years after your last kid was born, your mate and you welcomed a new baby inside your heart, Nislae. She was born without any problem, as quiet as her father. She looked a lot like him too, inheriting his wings but also his hazel eyes.

About a week after you gave birth, you finally felt ready to introduce your little girl to the world, so you invited your five kids over. Your fourth kid, Valas, was the first one to arrive, as calm as ever.

Azriel was the one who answered the door and greeted him with a long hug before he led him to your private chamber. When they both entered, you were sitting up on the large bed, holding the small newborn in your arms while staring at her lovingly. As you heard the door open, you looked up and smiled widely at the sight.

"Hey there sweetheart", you said softly, "It's been a while. How are your studies going with Madja ?" you asked as he approached the bed. He was wearing a broad smile and sat next to you, wrapping his arms around your shoulder in a side hug.

“Hello Mom. It’s been fine, she’s a bit rough on the edges but she’s really great” He said in a calm voice, looking down at his little sister. “She’s beautiful…What did you name her ?” “Nislae” You told him, looking back down at her

“Do you want to hold her ?” You proposed. He nodded and sat more comfortably on the bed, holding his hands out. You pressed a tender kiss on your daughter's soft forehead and placed her in Valas' waiting arms.

You leaned back against the bed and smiled softly at Azriel, who had slipped next to you into the plush bed. He wrapped an arm around you and extended his wing to cover you both. You watched as Valas grinned and caressed her head gently, whispering sweet words to the newborn.

The four of you stayed like this for a little while, until the bedroom door opened wide, and two of your kids walked in. Eleyana, your oldest daughter and Orian, your youngest son. Orian gasped at the sight and let out a little squeal.

“Mama, she’s literally so little and so cute !” He exclaimed, his large wings fluttering in excitement as he rushed next to you. He kneeled next to the bed and took your arm, holding it tightly against him. He had always been a Mama’s boy, contrary to the second oldest who strolled in with his arms full of presents. Aideron took a lot from Rhysand somehow, always imitating his uncle when he was younger. You sighed and shook your head at the sight of the pile of gifts he put down.

“I did tell you not to bring more than two things” You declared, greeting Orian and your first son with a tender kiss on their head. “You did Mama, but I thought that two gifts were not enough to show her how much we already love her” He answered, kissing the top of your head and hugging his dad tightly. You sighed again and chuckled softly.

Azriel knew someone was missing from the family scene. was pretty sure he had 5 kids before Nislae, and that made 6, right ? He wasn’t so sure anymore, going through the stress of having another kid and you going through hell and back to give him another child to love on. Yes, he was definitely missing a child. Eleyana was sitting next to Valas, who was holding Nislae, and Orian was snuggling with you while Aideron was sitting next to you. The only person missing was your third child. Your mate stretched his wings a little as he sat up.

“Do you guys know where Lyren is ?” Azriel asked, looking over the five kids here, surrounding you. His shadows were swarming around the room, mostly around the door to keep unwanted visitors away. Valas’ shadows were slinking on his wings but some of them slipped away and seemed to be playing with Azriel’s.

Orian shook his head as Aideron piped up “I think he might be with Nyx, they were together last night. They went to Rita’s to celebrate Nislae” He told the winged male. Azriel hummed quietly and looked back at his youngest, who was now in Eleyana’s arms.

You yawned and pulled Azriel down, wanting to snuggle with your mate. Nislae started crying after being passed around in everyone’s arms, making you sit up instinctively, reaching for her immediately. Aideron gave her to you carefully, just as Lyren burst in, making you all jump, which caused the youngest to cry even louder.

You grabbed her quickly, shushing her as her cries made Azriel glare at your latest son to arrive. Nislae kept on screaming her head off, pushing her little legs and arms out, kicking up a storm in your arms. You were used to calming a newborn down, you did have five children before. But it also has been 53 years since you’ve had a newborn.

After a few minutes, you managed to calm her down and get her to nurse. Azriel smiled softly, leaning back into the numerous pillows. He pulled you onto his side while your kids fell back into place. Orian snuggled into your side while Eleyana laid next to your mate, Lyren settling down on her side. Valas squeezed himself between Aideron and Orian, smiling up at you after a little while.

“Hey Ma ?”

You hummed back in answer, glancing at Lyren, already sensing a stupid question. “I didn’t know dad still had it in him to make you pregnant” He teased. Azriel, whose wings were wrapped around your large family, twitched as he answered

“I think I might show you that I do have some things in me when I beat you in training” He taunted, swating his head lightly. Your kids kept poking fun at each other for a little while, until you fell asleep quietly, your daughter laying in your arms, fast asleep too. Soon enough, your whole family was asleep, gently caressed by your mate, daughter and son’s shadows, just like 53 years ago, but with another little head to love.

Tags : @caroline-books

#azriel #azriel x reader #acotar #azriel acotar #azriel x you #azriel shadowsinger #acomaf #acotar x reader

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wavesoutbeingtossed · 11 days

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The thing about her musings on her youth in this album is not just about the spending her “prime” years with someone who ultimately couldn’t give her what she thought they both wanted (family, but also in general sense the happiness you get when you’re young and your whole lives are ahead of you).

There’s SO much about her youth in general here, and how the demons of the past have raised and broken her. How each of these experiences have chipped away at her youth. This whole album is give me back my girlhood, it was mine first.

It’s all the things she’s talking about had are part of the same big trauma of the loss of that youth and innocence. It’s snakegate and how Kim K and her lackeys deliberately set out to destroy Taylor’s reputation for sport, which ripped out Taylor’s last few grasps of that young adulthood freedom without her consent. It’s mulling the price she’s paid for spending her entire youth in the spotlight and becoming a commodity instead of a person. It’s looking at a friend’s child and wishing she could protect them from the world the way she wishes she could have been had she known. It’s putting your trust in your first love who ripped the rug out from under you and your faith along with it. It’s spending your time pining for your younger days in the haze of unspeakable loss. It’s carving off parts of yourself as you grow up to make yourself palatable to your peers and your partners and as a result not knowing what parts of you are left. It’s revisiting a love from your past when you still had it all, and after the initial frenzy realizing its hollow. And yes, it’s pouring your heart and soul into a relationship you think is forever and with each passing year the light in the window flickering dimmer and dimmer, only to realize the light wasn’t coming from your home after all, and you may lose your chance to find it again before it’s too late and the dreams you so desperately cling to vanish for good.

And that’s what the end message I think ends up being in So High School: she’s reclaiming the land as it were. All these things that were taken from her and that she gave up are up for a redo. And it’s not rewriting the past, it’s coming to the realization that all those parts are still within her but so is the good. That the freedom she gave up when she released her first album is still found in the backseat of a boy’s car all these years later. That she’s older and wiser and battleworn but that doesn’t mean she can’t find that joy and lightness. “I feel so high school when I look at you” is kind of a loaded statement from someone who didn’t really get to go to high school (both actually and metaphorically). “Bittersweet sixteen suddenly” (love that wordplay btw) because again— she’s been through so much that the feelings of new love that make her giddy like a girl are tinged because she’s been here before and also never been here before because she was never that kid.

(There’s also a whole tangent there comparing Miss Americana and the Heartbreak Prince to So High School and how fraught the first is vs the lightness of this one.)

That’s why this isn’t just a breakup album. It’s why she dredges up 2016 and Jake and Aaron’s son and childhood and high school and any other number of things. Because she has spent her entire youth and adulthood grappling with the issues that came to roost in TTPD, and while this whole experience underscores that you can never know what’s going on with someone (least of all Taylor, a stranger to us all), I also don’t think it’s a coincidence that she has stressed how much healthier and whole she is now. That is why this whole album is a bloodletting, but it’s not just about a broken relationship. It’s about a whole belief system that has stolen girlhood from her and she’s determined to piece back together in the aftermath of the autopsy.

#this was supposed to be one paragraph lol oops #the tortured poets department #writing letters addressed to the fire #as usual wcs comes in as one of the cornerstones of her discography

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tvhsleb3ww · 2 months

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OUR BLUE SUMMER! - GOJO SATORU

summary, your older brother is finally back for summer break! but wait, is that his best friend with him?

nicknames, minor swearing(not really), flirting, you're suguru's younger sister yippee, 2006

you were really looking forward to summer. the beach, the summer breeze, the carnivals, the food fests. it was truly an amazing season to have fun and enjoy life. every summer you spent was filled with bliss and joyful memories.

except this one. oh no no, you were one hundred percent confident that this summer was gonna be terrible. how did you know? well because when you went down to greet your brother and help him with the bags, there was a certain someone as well.

a certain six eyed manchild.

"hey babycakes! missed me?"

he said in his cheerful tone as usual. you could feel yourself throwing up at the nickname. a nickname you earned back in middle school due to your chubby cheeks. you groaned internally when you saw his stupidly handsome smirk on his face.

suguru chuckles at his best friend's tease towards his younger sister. he walks into the house with the bags. he's finally home for summer break. you were used to suguru appearing during this time of year but you didn't expect his white haired best friend to be here as well.

"what the hell are you doing here?"

you questioned with a very obvious scowl on your face to which he just chuckled and grinned, shaking his head as if to belittle you. you could feel your blood boiling which each second passing by. he then crouches down to your height and leans close to your face.

"i'm staying here for the summer, silly"

and those exact words made you go pale.

you tried to wrap your head around the fact that your brother's best friend who had tormented you your whole childhood is staying here. with you. for the next 3 months. if you had to be warded in a mental hospital, you're pretty sure you know why.

"oh come on, it won't kill you, babycakes. there's a line of girls out there who'd wanna be in your position right now"

his grin never leaves his face as his teasing words left his lips. you wanted to do nothing else than smack that stupid grin off his annoyingly attractive face but you know you couldn't do that.

suguru just shakes his head at his best friend and his younger sister's interaction.

"i'd gladly swap places with those said girls. they won't last a second with you"

you responded, your scowl still present and prominent. he simply laughed at this as he brings out his hand to ruffle your soft locks.

"oh, you're hurting my feelings, babycakes. you've always been the hotheaded one, haven't ya?"

you could feel your ears burning at the nickname. you quickly swatted his hand away and shoot him a glare through his extremely dark sunglasses.

"no one calls me that anymore, gojo"

he takes his hand away and returned from his crouching position, inserting his hands inside the pockets of his pants. his blue eyes gazes upon you and an amused smirk crawls onto his face.

"please, darling. call me satoru. we've gotten close over the past years, right?"

there's no deny of that. all three of you have grown close over the past couple years since middle school. suguru and satoru maybe. but not you and satoru. if anything, you were being tormented and teased by satoru.

you simply rolled your eyes at him and a huff escapes your lips but before you could say anything, suguru had already intervened.

"continue your arguement after we take these upstairs, yeah?"

satoru simply nodded to his words as he followed suguru with the bags in hand but before that he turned his head to get a good look at you.

"we're gonna have a great summer break, babycakes"

and with a flirtatious wink, he left the room. you didn't know how to feel about this, were your cheeks growing red?

this is gonna be a painful summer.

☆ a shitpost really, don't know if i should continue or not 😵‍💫

#gojo satoru #gojo x reader #gojo satoru x reader #gojo satoru x you #gojo satoru x y/n #gojou satoru x reader #satoru x reader #jjk x reader #jujutsu kaisen x reader

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takeme-totheworld · 4 months

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You Can't Go Home Again

I'm someone who walked away from my childhood religion almost twenty years ago, and I'm very firmly at a place in my life now where I am very happy to be through with it and have zero lingering desire to go back. I've also been out as some kind of queer person for the same almost-twenty years, and I've been out as trans for almost fifteen of those years.

If you knew absolutely nothing else about me or my life except for those major plot points, and the fact that I'm a Good Omens fan, it would be reasonable to assume that I would identify with Crowley far more than Aziraphale. At least at this point in my life. And in fact, I've seen many fans with backgrounds similar to mine say that they used to be much more like Aziraphale when they were younger, but nowadays they see far more of themself in Crowley. Which makes sense, as a trajectory for people who grew up in controlling religions and then left!

I've been trying to figure out what it is about me that makes me so automatically take Aziraphale's perspective when watching this show, even though the most aggressively Aziraphale time of my life was literal decades ago now. And I think that's probably a very complicated answer, but I realized today that I see an emotional struggle happening in him that I still wrestled with for years and years after leaving the church before I was finally able to completely put it to rest—the struggle to accept that some things can never go back to the way they were.

I seriously suffered so much over this for so long after I left the church. Despite all the damage it had done to me, my entire life had been intertwined with the church and a lot of things that were good—or at least deeply comforting in their familiarity—had also been a part of that. I had plenty of genuinely happy memories all mixed together with the harmful ones (which, in case you were wondering, is confusing as hell). There were fundamental human needs that I had only ever gotten met through the church, and as double-edged as what the church provided was, it was all I knew. Learning to get those needs met in new ways was much healthier, but it wasn't what I had always known growing up and it was a loss.

And I spent a long time refusing to fully accept that going back to any version of Christianity or the church just...wasn't ever going to be in the cards for me.

That is in the cards for some people, I know. Some folks who leave or get kicked out of ultra-dogmatic and controlling churches eventually find new homes in much more progressive and nurturing ones. And that's great! But that was never going to be my path. The process of seeing my childhood religion for what it truly was, losing my beliefs, leaving everything the church was to me further and further behind, and gradually learning who I was without it, changed me too much for me to ever be able to go back again.

I am fine with that now. More than fine. I'm healthier and happier now than I've ever been. Over time I grew into a version of myself that no longer has a church/religion/faith-shaped gaping wound in my life I'm trying to fill. But it was hard and painful and it took a really long time for me to get there. I spent a lot of my twenties and even a bit of my early thirties trying to find something...some new church community that I could be connected to in some way, that would give me back some of what I'd lost when I left my childhood church. But none of them ever did. I was never going to get the same things out of belonging to a church again, because I wasn't the same.

You can't go home again.

I see Aziraphale on that same journey and that's part of what makes my heart automatically go out to him and hurt for him, over and over again. He's still desperately holding onto the idea of a hypothetical version of Heaven and being an angel that can be home again one day. One where all the good things he remembers are still there, and still every bit as good, and all the bad parts have been fixed or gotten rid of, so that being there will be like the old times, only even nicer.

Except that even if he actually succeeded at somehow making Heaven the exact flavor of like-the-old-times-only-even-nicer that he is imagining, it wouldn't matter. Heaven is not his home anymore. He's already changed too much to be able to go back. He just hasn't accepted that yet.

#good omens #good omens meta #good omens 2 spoilers #aziraphale #the final fifteen #religious deconstruction #personal

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shotgunbunny · 1 year

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.·:*¨༺𝐠𝐢𝐯𝐞 𝐦𝐞 𝐲𝐨𝐮𝐫 𝐦𝐢𝐬𝐞𝐫𝐲༻¨*:·.

Ex! Soldier! Ari x Prostitute! Reader

WC:4.6k+ GIF by steve-kemp

"Who saved you?"

"The soldier boy. He had fallen in love with his whore. He followed me everywhere. He rushed in the minute they left."

{Warnings: angst and fluff, like a heavy angst moment in this but then there's so much fluff, ignorance of safe word, olderman and younger woman, Ari being 6'7 and huge, Ari being a sweetheart, daddy kink, size kink, prostitute!reader, spit kink, Ari is literally the best part of this, REALLY NASTY SCENE WITH BJ AND VOMIT BUT NOT FULL DETAIL!!!!! ARI IS THE GOOD GUY IN THIS!!! RANDOM GUY THAT'S HARDCORE BDSM N READERS LIKE NAH!!!ARI IS READERS SAVIOUR.}

The war was finally over and the boys were sent home to their beloveds and families. It was hard when they didn't come home, or didn't find their beloveds waiting. But the worst was Ari Levinson.

He had worked tirelessly in the war, shooting, stabbing. He was drenched in blood and would have no way of ever wiping it clean from his skin. He only had a few scars, he deemed himself lucky for that. He deemed himself lucky for surviving. Yet when he returned there was no one waiting for him. No beloved and no family.

His mother had passed away while he was fighting, his sister had moved away into a house with her husband so she could start a family, and his father died years ago. So when he came home, there was no one there to ease his pain. He simply wandered hoping that maybe a childhood friend longed for him and would run into his arms.

When he looked down at his arms all he found was his suitcase and a letter saying he was relieved of duty. And because he didn't have his lover, he was empty. He fought so hard and lost so many, and he didn't even get some love for his hard work. He was just stood looking at the dullness of life that surrounded him.

He remembered how excited he was to step off the train and be brought to the arms of an endeared one who would smother him in kisses. And he remembers when he stepped off and how the flood of women and families all gathered around the other soldiers, crying and hugging them. And most importantly, he remembers watching everyone leave the train station, so that it was just him clutching his stuff and waiting for someone that would never arrive.

After a few hours he gave up. He went to his mothers house which she left him, and went to bed with an aching heart. He had never felt such loneliness like this, and all it did was make his stomach turn and his mind race.

Everyday after he stepped off the train and returned home, he would wake up in his old room and go downstairs and eat his breakfast alone, before dusting the house and staring longingly at the family photos. And then he would sit and read the news paper until hours had passed and he decided it was time to drink his pain away. Then when he was stone cold drunk he would get up and head to bed. And repeat that routine until he got a letter from his dearest friend Sammy, inviting him out for a drink at the bar which he hastily accepted.

✧──────────────────────────────────✧

"Hey! There's my pal!" Sammy shouted proudly from his seat at the bar before he quickly got out and hugged Ari, making sure to pat his back and remind him that he was there for him. With a grin, he led Ari to the seat next to his at the bar. They both orded their drinks and began talking.

The aching that was in Ari's heart silenced for a second and allowed for him to focus on his friend and their companionship. Every word uttered between the pair, eased Ari's desperation second by second. Until the topic moved onto women and that dreaded ache came back full swing.

"Me and Rachel are getting married soon pal. I want you to be my best man. What do ya say?" Sammy said with a grin on his face, he saw Ari's quick grimace and watched as the taller man nodded his head slowly. Sammy knitted his brows together and stared before he began speaking again.

"Woah buddy, what's wrong with ya'? Ain't you got a girl?" Ari gulped and looked down at his callous hand before opening his mouth and letting a quite rumble of 'no' out. Sammy's eyes widened. He had no idea, he always thought Ari had a girl. Sammy then looked around making sure no one was listening into the conversation.

"Listen man, between us, I know a place where you can kill your loneliness for the cheap." Ari raised his head and looked at his friend with furrowed brows. "What do ya' mean?" Sammy sighed and began speaking in a hushed tone.

"Rachel told me that some of the guys that came home without a woman went to a private house where the women's lovin is cheap. You just go in and pay and then if ya ever need a woman again, ya pay them and they'll take care of ya." Sammy smiled and patted his friends back.

A beat of silence passed, and Ari downed the rest of his drink. He remained seated allowing for the information to sink in and then with a sigh he turned and spoke in a hushed voice. "Do ya know the address?" Sammy chuckled and wrote it down on a small piece of card before sliding it to Ari.

Ari took it hastily and harshly patted his friend on the back, forgetting his own strength. He muttered a thank you, and started heading to the address, hellbent on eradicating his desperation for human touch.

✧──────────────────────────────────✧

He knocked on the door and a woman dressed in a beautiful robe opened it and looked him up and down before speaking, her voice soft yet deep. Authority dropped off every inch of her and he respected that. "What are ya after sir?"

Ari gulped and then spoke softly, hating the fact that he had to speak his deprivation for human touch aloud. "I'm looking for a woman to spend the night with? A friend told me I could kill my loneliness here ma'am. I'm just after some soft loving." After speaking he tilted his head down, a blush coated on his cheeks while the woman cooed at him.

He raised his head and watched her moved to the side to let him in. He walked in as gentle as possible as she closed the door behind him. "I got the perfect gal for you." He smiled, finally able to have woman even if it was temporary. She gave him the price and he paid in full. She smiled at him "Down the hall to your left, there should be a white door that has a dove on it. That's where you're going angel." He smiled and bowed his head.

His heart raced as he took the direction and stood outside the door with a small black dove painted on it. He saw that the other doors all had different things painted on them. The door next to yours had a dog painted on it and the other one had a heel painted on it.

Ari let out a breathe and gently knocked on the door. "Come in." He heard a soft voice say from inside. He opened the door and closed it. He turned and looked at where the voice came from. There you were. Dressed all pretty in a white slip nightgown. Ari was in heaven just looking at you. You were so utterly beautiful that it stopped the aching in his heart and made it swell.

You smiled at him and put your hand on your hip. You stared at the man. He was very nervous you could tell from the way he was tapping his foot and playing with his hands. He was a big fella, a guy you'd have dreamed about. He stood at about 6'7 and completely dwarfed you. He was muscular, you could tell as the shirt he was wearing was holding onto his bicep so tightly you wouldn't be surprised if it left an indent on his skin.

He had beautiful blue eyes, yet they were looking at the floor. His hair was long but nothing messy, it was just the right amount and it matched with his full beard perfectly. You then noted the blush on his cheeks and giggled drawing his attention back to you. You made eye contact with the beautiful man and your heart raced.

"What's wrong suga' this your first time?" He spluttered and shook his head. "No ma'am. It's just my first time paying for company, and it has been a while. They don't allow us to bring women to war." He said the last part trying to lighten the mood, try and tell a joke to hear your pretty laugh again but all he got was you slowly walking towards him and placing you soft hands in his calloused ones.

"You're a soldier?" You whispered it so gently that Ari felt safe. "Yes ma'am." You stared at this shy man. "You ain't cheatin' are ya?" Ari blushed again. "N-No ma'am. I was just looking for company. There was no one waiting for me so I'm just trying to fill that loneliness and heartache." You raised your soft hand to his cheek and gently stroked it.

"I'm sorry darling. You know, if I knew you before the war I'd have waited for ya." Ari closed his eyes before any tears could slip out. He let out a cough and opened his eyes again looking down at your heavenly face. "You can call me Ari. I think I'll be here alot." You smiled at him.

"Well if that's right, I'll make sure Miss. Haferton does half off Ari. A soldier like you shouldn't be paying half price for the pleasure you deserve. You can call me whatever you want." He smiled and took your hand from his cheek into his own admiring how small it was compared to his. His eyes glimmered as he stared down at you. "I'll call you my little dove." You beamed at him.

"Cmon Ari, it's time to loosen up." Before he could even question what you meant you got on your tip toes and pulled him down kissing him. He was shocked before gently kissing you back and leading you towards your soft red bed.

After the night was done, you were both sweating. You curled up on Ari's chest and spoke to him about your life, and he spoke about his. Letting you know every detail about him. In that moment when it was just you two cuddled up and wrapped in the bed sheets, you both felt peace for the first time since before the war.

✧──────────────────────────────────✧

A month had passed and you were swept off your feet. Ari would sleep with you every other day and you were always so happy that he did, but his possessiveness could be such a nuisance. He knew you were a working girl but sometimes he got so locked up in a fantasy where you were his wife that he forgot that you had sex for money.

Which is why you had decided to change the schedule and only have Ari sleep with you twice a week. You needed to make sure that all your clients had a reason to come back whenever they could, and it was incredibly difficult when Ari took up half of those days. So as much as it hurt you to bring sorrow to the soldier, you decided it must be done.

With a sigh you sat on your bed, clad only in a red lacey night dress when you heard the familiar soft knock of the gentle giant. A smile graced your lips at his politeness. "Come in Ari." You watched the door open and close. You raised an eyebrow and he stood next to the door and dropped his hand from the handle. There was a furrow in his brow and he looked at you.

"I was speaking with the lady at the door and she said that my schedules changed and I now only get two nights." You sighed and stood up. "She's right Ari. I had to change the schedule. I need more clients so I can make more money." "I can give you more money. Please I adore our time so much, don't limit me." "I have to Ari. Business is business whether you like it or not. This is what it's like. Either deal with it or find a new gal."

He stared down at you, anger flashing through his eyes. "Alright I'll deal with it, but we're not being soft. I'm gonna be rough with ya." You rolled your eyes and headed towards the bed when suddenly Ari picked you up and threw you on the bed.

He quickly crawled on top of you and helped you pull your dress off leaving you naked for his eyes to feast on. "Fuck, look at this perfect body. So small compared to mine, don't know how I came even fit my cock in ya. But you don't care do ya? You just want daddy's cock in ya, you want daddy to fuck you stupid til you come all over his big cock."

He stared down at your body and licked his lips. He kissed your neck, allowing his tongue to graze your skin but never suckle it. He knew the rules, no marks and no cumming inside. He kissed all the way to the valley of your breast before he quickly took your left nipple into his hot mouth and began to suck on it and let his tongue circle the bud.

All the while his large hand was travelling up between your thighs right towards your pussy, he smirked when he felt how wet you were before he plunged a finger in and began thrusting. You whined at the feeling of his fat finger that was soon joined by another finger. He switched to your right tit and began suckling that one, making sure that both your nipples were covered in his spit before he blew cold air on them so that they perked up even more. He groaned at the sight of you covered in his spit.

He added a third finger and watched as your pussy opened up more for him. He made sure you were used to his finger holding you open before he unzipped his pants. His cock jumped out angry and big. You stared down and watched as he grazed your folds with his tip. He then got to your entrance before pushing all the way in, knocking the breathe out of you. He smirked looking down at your blissed out face.

"Fuckin' look on your face dove. Only I can give you that look, like there's no thoughts in your head except daddy's cock. Good girl, fuckin' made it fit didn't ya. Makin daddy so proud takin his cock like a big girl. But you're not a big girl are ya? No you're just a dumb little whore who will gladly have her tiny pussy stretched for daddy's cock."

He grabbed your face and turned it to the side before spitting on your cheek and then doing it to the other side. You whined and he began moving, making sure his thrusts were slow but firm so his cock dragged across your gspot perfectly. He then began to thrust faster before grabbed your face, "Open your pretty little mouth dove, open it for daddy." You did as he complied drunk off his cock and he spat in your mouth.

Your eyes rolled back and you felt him drag his hand down to your clit and began doing small and fast circles. You began to thrash under him and the pleasure he giving you. A loud moan left your lips before you came all over his cock, your thighs shaking and your toes curling. You held onto him and as he began to fuck you through your orgasm. He squeezed your hips tight making sure there would be a bruise meaning he would leave a mark. He groaned at that thought and pulled out, cumming all over your stomach. You cuddled into him and smiled kissing his cheek and he smiled down at you.

✧──────────────────────────────────✧

Eventually Ari came to terms with the fact he couldn't take up all your time, but he settled for the time he could. In or out of work. He soon became like your shadow and nearly all the girls fawned over him. Over how soft he was for you and how he practically worshipped the ground you walked on.

All you could see was problems though, he was so lonely that he would accept any company and turn it into adoration. Including a whores. You had to swallow your pride everytime Ari asked you to be his and tell him that it won't work. You were a prostitute and you slept with him for money and every time you said that he would softly ask with you nestled up to him.

"Would you sleep with me if you weren't being paid?"

In a heartbeat you always longed to say but you remained silent every time. You didn't want him to know you had fallen in love with him. This shy soldier had become your world and you didn't know what to do other than try and get more clients in, hoping and praying that the more men that fucked you the further Ari would be from your mind but everytime you were wrong.

Thankfully today was you day off, so you decided to go to the towns market and look around. You smiled at all the folks you passed recognising some of them and ignoring the judgemental stares of others. You began walking around the market and looked at the fresh fruit and vegetables. Just as you were buying some to stock up the house, a large hand shot past yours and paid for you.

While the man packed your fruit and vegetables you turned and saw Ari. Stood with a smile of his sun kissed face and his eyes shining. You giggled at the giant who was disguising himself as a teddybear. "Good morning soldier." His smile widened and he leaned down to place a kiss on your cheek. "Good mornin' little dove." When the man went to give you your shopping, Ari took the bag in one hand and offered his arm to you.

You raised an eyebrow at him. "C'mon dove, let's do some shopping for the house." You glanced around shocked that Ari would be so open about his relationship with you. "Are you sure Ari?" He chuckled, "I am not ashamed of you dove, I am just ashamed that I can't snatch you away from where you work. But other than that, I am completely carefree especially with you beside me." You blushed at his affectionate words and giggled. You then linked your arms with his and began shopping.

✧──────────────────────────────────✧

That was just the first of many helpful adventures. Everytime you went out shopping Ari would tag along and help you. With either getting something from the top shelf in a store or carrying your shopping after the market. Truly he was becoming domesticated for you.

He was trying to enchant you to join him and his house by making you go shopping with him and helping him choose ingredients, and it was working. You were so close to choosing him over any form of work.

But then today happened, you were already in a bad mood since you didn't get any sleep due to the new neighbors revving their motorbikes to show who's more dominant. And then your first client of the day decided to cum all over your brand new silk bed sheets (gifted by Ari.) And now you had to wash it and all the other girls laundry.

You were ready to tear your hair out when you saw the house was out of washing powder. With a groan you headed out the house and went to the closest store. And surprise who was waiting in your shadow, Ari.

You were so tired and frustrated with today that you couldn't handle him following you around like a lost puppy. So you turned on your heel to look at the tall man. He smiled down at you and looked at you as if you were the sun. You almost felt bad for you snarky tone when you spoke to him.

"What do you want from me Mr. Levinson?" You put your hand on your hip glaring up at him. Yet it doesn't deter him as he continues his loving smile down at you. "I thought it was obvious. I want you to have my last name and be full of my babies." Your sighed frustrated and glare up at him. "You need to stop with this delusion Ari! I'm a whore! A harlot! Which, incase you were simple, mean I'm not wife material! Just leave me alone."

You grab your washing powder and throw the money of the counter before leaving. Ari stared shocked at your words. His heart hurt a bit, but if there was something that the war taught him, it was when things are bad to persevere through it and the sun will come out. So Ari took a breath in and swept his hair from his eyes with his hand and soon followed you back to the house.

✧──────────────────────────────────✧

The second you got in you were swamped with a new client. A particularly harsh one, you'd only had him once. And afterwards, Ari came in and rubbed some soothing oils onto the slap marks he had left on your ass. This man was hard, and everything he did was to inflict pain for his pleasure.

You took a breath and went to put the powder away, when you saw Harriet walk into the room. She jumped when she saw you and then began speaking with her feminine French accent. "You scared me little mouse. Don't worry about the washing, I'll do it." You smiled at her and kissed her cheek, she giggled. "Thank you so much my angel, I don't know what I'd do without you." She smiled and waved you away.

You headed to your room and when you opened it, there he sat. The man as tough as nails and as hard as ice. You saw that he held a flog with sharp, pointed stubs on it. Your heart raced as you also saw the rope next to him. You looked back up at him distressed and he let out a cold chuckle. "Do not worry little kitty, none of this is for you. This is for Doreen. You're just warming me up."

You gulped, you'd heard about his 'warm ups.' How it was meant to be a simple blowjob but he made it something so much worse. You didn't want to find out but you knew he payed excellent money. So with racing heart you got on your knees and he unzipped his pants and pulled his cock out.

As you were deep throating him, he grabbed your hair and pulled it towards his hips. Your scalp burned at how hard he was pulling and tears filled your eyes immediately as you couldn't breath. Your nose was against his skin and his cock was down your throat. He smirked and groaned as you gagged and threw up on his cock but he didn't pull away forcing you to swallow it. Soon he came in your mouth and pushed you away.

You were crying, your voice horse as you repeated the safe word as loud as possible. He cleaned up and took his toys to the other room. He opened the door and bumped into a body. He looked up and saw Ari. Ari stared down at you, he noted the distress in your eyes and the tears streaming down your face. Then he heard you whispering your safe word.

Ari took one look at the man before he pinched him hard in the face. He immediately broke his nose but it wasn't enough. Ari headbutted him and watched him fall to the floor before kicking the shit out of him. Ari stood with a menacing look plastered on his face as he watched the man cough up blood.

He brought his gaze to your and it immediately softened but his voice didn't. His voice was deep and firm. "Get your things. You're coming to live with me. No room for arguments. You are coming with me woman." You nodded and Ari stepped over the unconscious body and began helping you pack.

All the while security had come and seen the mess and Ari began speaking to them about hearing you repeating your safe word and your muffled cries. Soon Miss. Haferton came around the corner and Ari began explaining how you were quitting. Your stomach filled with butterflies over Ari's dominance. You couldn't help but like him being all demanding, and when you realised that you knew it was time to give up the job and finally choose your soldier.

✧──────────────────────────────────✧

Ari smiled as he stepped off the train. He had been visiting his sister to see her new born, just like she did when he had his newborns. It had been 5 years since Ari had met you and he kept true to his words.

He wanted you to have his last name and be filled with his children and so far you'd been married for 4 years and had 2 children with number 3 on the way. God he was so excited for baby number 3, he hoped it was girl as so far he had 2 boys and as wonderful as they were, they were absolute mama's boys. And who could blame them, with a mother like you he could see why they were. But now he wanted a daddy girl, someone he could spoil and fight all the guys for.

Ari chuckled as he stepped off the train, he looked down at his hands and saw a suitcase and a bag full of stuffed toys he got for his children on his visit. When he looked up his heart raced. There at the train station stood a heavily pregnant you with your two toddlers in their prams.

Ari rushed over immediately, and kissed you. After all he did miss you immensely, but it was the fact that you remember him talking about how isolated he felt when he first stepped off that train and no one was there for him. And now he had a family waiting for him. He looked down and nuzzled your noses before he quickly took the heaviest pram and babbled at his children.

He chuckled at their "dada's." As you both began pushing your children back home, he turned to you. "How are you feeling Mama? You okay?" You giggled at him. "Everythings okay Ari. The baby will come out when it's ready." He let out a huff, "I know it's just I'm eager to meet our beautiful little girl." "How do you know it's a girl?" "Trust me dove it's a girl, if not I'll buy you that pearl necklace you want so bad." You smiled, "And if it is a girl? What will I owe you?"

Ari turned and stared at you, admiring how you glowed in the sunlight. He paused and you did too. He leaned down and whispered gently in your ear, "You owe me another baby, That was the plan afterall Mrs. Levinson." He then kissed your cheek as you blushed and laughed at him.

You were so glad that your soldier came and saved you, he truly was your saviour and the love of your life and you couldn't be more thankful for him and your beautiful family. And he was thankful that he finally had you, he finally had someone who would wait at the train station for him.

#ari levinson x reader #ari levison x reader #chris evans x reader #chris evans #ari levinson #ari levinson x woc #ari levinson x female reader #ari levinson x y/n #ari levinson x black!reader #ari levinson x you #ari levinson fluff #ari levinson angst #ari levinson au #ari levinson smut #ari levinson fic

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velvetlilacsdaisies · 4 months

Text

Shit at Feelings ii

Bodhi Durran x Reader

Synopsis: Bonding with dragons? No issue. Killing venin? Unfortunate, but doable. Confronting your feelings towards your childhood best friend? No thanks.

Word count: 2.7k

Warnings: Spoilers!! Swearing, reader being stubborn and both reader and Bodhi being lil dummies?? Lmk if I missed anything.

A/n: the end of 2023 kicked my booty!! Beginning of 2024 no better, but here is part 2! I was stuck on if some of part 3 was going to go in this one, but decided not to. Meddling Imogen, and dragon dialogue is included this part!

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The next day, you stretched with Imogen, returning from a morning run. Most cadets were still sleeping their hangovers off. Imogen said the best way to get over one was running it off. She had picked your lock and dragged you out of your bed this morning to do so. But you knew she just wanted to gossip about the night before.

“So you and Durran?” She had a smirk on her lips, tucking a piece of vibrant pink hair behind her ear.

Imogen only knew about whatever you felt for Bodhi, but with the way Rhiannon reacted last night you weren’t sure if you were discreet about whatever you felt in the first place.

“Not what you think.” You sighed, your arms over your head as you sat on the ground, leaning to one side. “We talked once everyone went to bed.”

She looked at you expectantly as she lifted a leg and stretched it behind her. “And?”

You clicked your tongue, leaning to the other side. “And he called me out on my bullshit.”

She laughed almost manically, earning her a pointed glare. “I’m sorry, sorry.” She then dropped her leg and lifted her other. “But you really left him high and dry.”

You grumbled, “I know and I feel like shit about it.” You stood up dusting your leathers off.

“Y/n, just tell him how you feel.” She shook her hands out.

“How do you expect me to tell him everything when I’ve been avoiding him for years because I’m too scared that something will happen once I spill my guts.”

“Gods, I get it. You’re scared, but you already almost died once without telling him. You think you shouldn’t say a little prayer to Malek and Amari that they gave you a second chance?” Imogen said sternly. “Also if it was anyone else you pulled that disappearing act with, you wouldn’t have the same mercy. But it’s Bodhi we’re talking about, and he would let you lead him to hell and back as many times as you wanted because let’s face it—you’re you. And for some fucked up reason he worships the ground you walk on like you were a god yourself.”

You didn’t know if the queasiness you felt was the hangover or how right she was. He would do anything for you. Even how shitty you treated him for the last two years. Last night proved that.

“He even risked smuggling your fucking sketchbook in so you could have something from home—“

“What?” Your jaw dropped.

The pink haired girl inhaled sharply. “Fuck I wasn’t supposed to say that.”

“He was the one that did that?” Your heart skipped a beat. Even when you had been so stubborn to avoid him, he thought of you? You had questioned the hell out of Garrick, Imogen, and Xaden for a week about it. You had never thought about the younger Riorson cousin.

“I hate being the middleman in your two demented whatever you got going on.” She sighed. “Listen, forget I said that or take that as a sign to pull your head out of your ass. I’ll see you at breakfast.” She patted your shoulder, leaving you alone in the courtyard.

Well you felt like the shittiest person ever.

You knew you needed to talk to him, and you couldn’t run and avoid him this time. As much as you wanted to hop on Clesaí’s back and ride very far away. Fuck.

You had spent an hour already mulling over the information you had just received. Then replaying the argument last night—which then led to remembering the very brief exchange with Bodhi in Aretia, ultimately leading you to the nightmare from Resson plaguing your thoughts. Like they had when you tossed and turned in bed last night, and the prior nights before that. By the time you entered the mess hall, your thoughts felt like nonsense.

He sat with Imogen at the end of the table filled with third years. They looked deep in a discussion, whispering only to one another. You gulped quietly, were they talking about you? You now knew Imogen felt like a middleman between the two of you, you wondered what he talked about to her. You tried not to overthink it as you reluctantly walked over.

As you reached the table, you could hear Bodhi saying something quite harshly. While the pink haired girl had the same expression she wore when she told you to pull your head out of your ass. It was obviously something he didn’t want you to hear because as soon as he saw you coming up, he stopped mid sentence.

“Can we talk?” You asked him, not bothering to greet the pair. He tensed, and you didn’t miss the look he tried to discreetly give your mutual best friend.

Imogen rolled her eyes, grabbing her things and getting up from the table. “I totally forgot Quinn needed help with something. Bye guys.” She gave a twinkle of her fingers before walking away with a smug look on her face.

You sat down, taking the seat Imogen had been in. “So,” you awkwardly tapped your fingers on the wooden table.

“So,” he repeated. “How was your morning run with Immy?”

“Brutal.” You replied. Why was this so uncomfortable?

“Listen, about last night—”

“It needed to be said.” You waved a hand nonchalantly. Your heart begged to differ, beating against your chest. “I was icing you out.”

“I didn’t mean to come off so harshly.” He tucked his bottom lip between his teeth nervously.

Was it possible for you to want a man more? Even during such an embarrassing display of emotion on your behalf? Trying not to focus on the fact you wanted to reach over and be the one tugging his bottom lip between your teeth, you stared at the wood grain of the table.

“I was stubborn.” You reasoned.

“Y/n Y/L/n, stubborn?” There was a tinge of amusement in his tone. “I guess there’s a first time for everything—I mean the taking accountability part at least.” You looked up, and saw him intently staring at you. Through the sarcasm, his brown eyes were warm like deep rich honey.

A ghost of a smile on your lips. “You know me better than anyone else apart from Imogen. The way I regarded you wasn’t fair.” You then contemplated your next words. “And I know—”

“Durran!” Dain walked over, Rhiannon, and a few other second and third year cadets behind him.

Bodhi flinched, shifting his attention to the group. “Yes, Wingleader Aetos?” He had icy malice as he took in Dain. You yourself could feel your anger rise when the third year came in your vicinity. He was the reason you had been in Resson, and why Liam and Soilel were dead.

Dain noted the unwelcome greeting from the both of you and faltered for a moment, heat flushing his cheeks. “We have a meeting.” He cleared his throat, straightening back up.

The man sat across from you glared over to the brunette man. “I’ll be right there.” He then turned back to you with a softer look in his eyes and an apologetic smile where the scowl was a moment prior. “Can we finish this conversation later?”

You could feel the eyes of Rihannon linger on the two of you, and you knew the others now were acutely aware of the interaction as well.

“Yeah, yeah. No worries.” You brushed it off, though disappointment filled you. You were finally getting somewhere, but you knew he couldn’t ignore the newly appointed wingleader.

You had been looking down in your lap, missing the subtle look back Bodhi gave you as he left with the group.

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Later had come and gone with no sign of Bodhi still. Leaving a lurching feeling in your heart, but you tried not to wallow in self pity too much. You had thought maybe you deserved to be stood up. But at least you didn’t run this time, and it was his move now.

“The male of your affection causes too much of a distraction for you anyway.” Cleasaí huffed in your mind. Rolling your eyes you focused on the sketchbook in front of you. “Makes you a lovesick puppy as you would say.”

“Am not,” you bristled.

It was late in the afternoon and you were spending time with Cleasaí in the flight field, avoiding everyone. You had brought a blanket to lay on as you laid back against her front leg. She protectively curled around you, sunbathing, leaving you with a sufficient amount of shade to look at your sketchbook.

“I’m assuming you’ve never had a dragon that captured your affection?” You spoke out loud.

She nestled her head on the ground, huffing again. “I’d rather not say,” you could sense the disdain in her bored tone. A sly smile crept on your face, leaning up and staring right at the green dragon, who had feigned resting her eyes.

“You have, haven’t you?” Egging for more info from the clubtail.

“We haven’t been seeing eye to eye for a year.” Was all she grumbled. “Speaking of not seeing eye to eye. Your human approaches.”

“He’s not my human.” You hissed quietly, looking up to see Bodhi was indeed walking towards you, his dragon Cuir following a reasonable distance away.

“I’ve been looking for you.” He offered you a lazy smile, careful to avoid eye contact with Cleasaí. “Cuir said he thought he noticed Cleasaí leave the Vale.”

Your dragon sighed in annoyance. “Busybody,” she glowered in your head, causing you to grin. Did she mean Cuir or Bodhi? “I meant the annoying green one, but your human is quite a busybody as well. He couldn’t have waited until you came back from the flight field?” This caused a genuine laugh to escape your lips.

Bodhi only gave you a nervous look, “I hope she’s not talking about me.”

“You can tell him yes.” She grunted.

“No, she's just grumpy.” You lightly patted her scaly leg causing her to grunt again.

“How’s her claw?” He asked, scanning the injured back leg of hers.

“None of his business or that one’s over there.” She chuffed, baring her teeth toward Cuir. You didn’t know why she was persistent on one of her own den members not knowing of her condition.

Rolling your eyes, ignoring her. “She's doing better. She should be clear when lessons start again.”

Bodhi had a tight lipped smile on his own face, his shoulders shaking in laughter. Cuir whipping his head annoyed several yards behind him.

“I’m sorry, he can be quite the worrier especially over—”

An audible growl came from your dragon, earning a suspicious look from you.

“What is going on with you?” You scolded Cleasaí mentally.

“Worry about your own human afflictions.” Was all she said down the bond.

The man glanced at the book in your lap, and a grin spread across his cheeks. “You’re drawing in your sketchbook again?” He took a seat across from you on the ground, careful to not be too close to your dragon. Cuir had done the same in the distance.

You blushed slightly, “there’s a new sentimental value to it.” You chewed on your bottom lip, looking up at him. Bodhi had a gleam you couldn’t place in his eye, and his cheeks were blushed slightly too. You couldn’t help but smile broadly at his coyness. “I know you’re the one that brought the book back.”

“Who? Me? Why would I do that?” He propped his knees up, holding his forearms on them as he gazed up at the late afternoon sky.

He had always looked the handsomest during golden hour, your favorite features of his were enhanced. The tones of the setting sun had embraced his face, his eyes warm with gold flecks scattered throughout, and his onyx curls radiating chocolate brown undertones.

You tucked your hair behind your ear, “I don’t know I was wondering the same.” The broad smile painted on your face tilted downward.

“I thought maybe it would’ve been a dead giveaway, and you would have taken it as an olive branch.” He suggested, turning back to you.

You were thumbing at the page that it had been on, the textured parchment. Boy, were you an idiot.

“I thought you hated me or would have been tired of me by now.” You admitted.

“Why would I feel either of those things Y/n?”

“Because you offer me all this patience and kindness that I don’t deserve.” You said exasperated. “And in return I offer stubbornness and do everything in my power to avoid you.”

He chuckled dryly, “haven’t you realized? I don’t care.”

“Well I feel like you should.” This would be an argument that you wouldn’t let go. Screw Amari or Malek giving you a second chance, you didn’t feel worthy of that chance. Nor did you want to see anything happen to Bodhi if you were to accept him back into your life.

“Well, unfortunately I can’t control how I feel,” He looked back at the sketchbook in your lap. A smirk creeping onto his lips. “And apparently neither can you.”

“What do you mean?” Your eyebrow raised at him, and he only made a subtle gesture to the book. You looked down, your cheeks turning bright red.

You had been aimlessly sketching, not thinking too much about what you were putting on paper. It started as just a pair of eyes, but then turned to a full blown portrait of a man. Not just any man though, it had a striking resemblance to Bodhi.

Who were you trying to fool? It was him. From the crinkle by his eye when he’s amused to the unruly curls that always fell in his face.

“That’s all I need to know,” the smirk had turned to a shit eating grin.

You kept opening your mouth trying to respond, but you were left speechless.

“You can’t pull your shit anymore, Y/l/n.” He lifted himself off the ground, wiping the dirt off his leathers standing.

“I-I don’t know what you’re talking about.” You shake your head furiously, finding your voice finally.

You wanted to wipe the cocky look off his face desperately. “Whether you admit it or not, you can’t hide from me anymore.” He responded so cooly, it made you grit your teeth irritatedly. “Don’t worry, Y/n/n your secret’s safe with me.” He teasingly held his hand over his heart. “It’s rather endearing.”

“Bodhi,” you groaned. You could feel the heat evade your face and ears. “It’s not that serious—“

“Serious enough to me.” He didn’t let your annoyance faze him. “I’ll see you around.”

You rolled your eyes, watching him leave down to the main campus. Cuir takes off into the sky and back to the Vale, leaving you and Cleasaí alone again. Releasing a sigh of air that you hadn’t known you were holding when he got out of the ear shot.

‘Lovesick puppy.’ Your dragon had hummed amused. Deep chirping sounds audibly coming from her. Was she laughing at you?

“Me?” You were quick to turn and glower, your lip tugging upward in aggitatation. “How about we talk about you for a second? What the hell was that?”

‘It’s just sometimes the male greens can be so…” she paused. ‘Suffocating?’ She was choosing her words wisely. As though it seemed like she was hiding something, but not surprising you though. Cleasaí was rather secretive, it was what she was known for in the green den. A trickster of sorts, with cunning deception.

“And what’s that supposed to mean?” You pressed further.

She chuffed, “I’d rather not divulge that at the moment, but in due time...” She drew, sounding almost feline.

You knew better to argue, she was just as hard headed as you, and if you pushed her too hard, she’d push right back. Then that got you both nowhere. So you stood, gathering your things to retreat to your dorm and get ready for dinner and tonight’s shenanigans.

“Sooner than later, please.” You gave her an expectant look.

She got up, shaking out her scales and stretched a bit. “Yes yes sooner than later, don’t fret Lovesick puppy.”

“Stop calling me that!” You yelled over your shoulder as you retreated back to campus. You could hear the chuff she released in amusement in the distance as you descended the ancient stone stairs.

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Thank you so much for the patience and the support! Please do not hesitate to let me know your thoughts and feedback. Also like and reblog 🫶🩷🤠

#bodhi durran x reader #Bodhi Durran fanfic #bodhi durran #fourth wing fanfic #emperyeon series #emperyeon fanfic #dain aetos x reader #xaden riorson x reader #fourth wing Bodhi #bodhi fourth wing #imogen x reader #imogen fourth wing #Violet Sorrengail #rihhanon matthias #rihhanon matthias fourth wing #shit at feelings fic

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