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messylustt · 11 months

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𝐞𝐥 𝐭𝐫𝐚𝐭𝐨 (𝐭𝐡𝐞 𝐝𝐞𝐚𝐥) — 𝐰𝐨𝐫𝐝𝐬 𝐨𝐟 𝐬𝐮𝐬𝐩𝐢𝐜𝐢𝐨𝐧

miguel o’hara x fem!reader. 3.6k words

fic masterlist previous five pt six next part

mentions of injury; miguel be fantasising bout you guys; miguel makes you say spanish sentences that you don’t know the meaning of (i don’t think this is a warning but oh well); please also forgive if there’s any grammar/spelling mistakes (I’m tired af) — after the incident you wake up at HQ, with a note saying your hired status. with confusion you go to speak to miguel. along the way there and back you get your friends acting suspicious. miguel finally begins to accept that he wants to keep you close.

Your eyes slowly blink open, bright light invading your vision. At first you just lie there, no thoughts really occupying your brain.

As you go to sit up, having realised that you're lying on a bed, a hand suddenly rests on your shoulder. You turn to see Hobie. "Careful there, mate, wouldn't want ya knocking out again."

"What..." You drift off, brows furrowing as you rub your temples. "Knocked out...oh." Thoughts, or more so memories, begin to flood your brain. The different universe. Miles. The masked men. The running...and then...Miguel. You remember seeing Miguel, he had helped you, asking you to stay quiet.

You remember the instant feeling of relief when he had spoken, and then the droopy feeling of your exhausted body.

You go to swing your legs off the bed, as you gaze around the medical room. But Hobie keeps his hand on your shoulder. "You've gone through some stuff over the past couple days, take it easy."

"I'm alright...thank you." You nod, giving him a small smile. "Am I back at HQ?" Then you further mutter. "I thought he'd send me home."

"Yeah, me too...but maybe your act of defiance changed his mind." Hobie chuckles.

You go to shake my head. "I didn't mean t-"

"Mean to go, yeah don't worry we knew not long after you disappeared." Hobie interrupts.

You nod, but then your brows begin to furrow. "Wait, how did you know?"

"Miguel actually found out. He got pissed you left a day early. Thanks for that, by the way." Hobie nudges your shoulder gently.

You softly chuckle, though your thoughtful expression stays. "How'd he found out? I could've just gone home. I planned to just go home."

"I think he went to your universe." Hobie says, a sly grin forming.

You stare at him. "Why? To tell me I should have worked that day?"

Hobie shrugs. "Maybe."

You shift your body, so that you're somewhat facing him more. "What aren't you telling me?"

"Hm?" Hobie hums, acting innocent.

"Hobie don't have that expression if you're gonna stay silent." You wave your finger in front of his face.

Hobie stands, putting his hands in his pockets. "I don't know what you're talking about, y/n."

"Hobie."

But he's already walking out he door. "Oh." He pokes his head back in. "There's some lunch on that table there. Be grateful I didn't eat it."

;;

You stare at the note in your hand. It read 'You're not fired as of Tuesday'.

"Peter, hey. Have you seen Miguel?" You ask as Peter nears you, your hand now scrunching around the note. Another god forsaken note.

"Y/n, hey. Glad to see you look less pale." Peter smiles, but you're persistent.

"Apparently I'm not fired?"

"You got your job back, nice." Peter at first doesn't notice your blatant narrowed gaze. But when he does, his smile turns to a frown of confusion. "You don't seem happy about that."

"I'm confused. He isn’t one to mess with people…right?"

Peter tilts his head to the side. "Eh, part of me wouldn’t be surprised if he did." He mutters.

"I mean, not even a day ago he was wanting me gone. Not that much has happened to change his mind." You say.

"Actually a lot has happened."

"Yeah, but that stuff shouldn't change his decision about me working here."

Peter shrugs. "Maybe it did."

"Your elaboration there is great, Peter, thanks." Your sarcasm is clear.

Peter smiles, fixing the spider beanie on Mayday's head, as she babbles on about something. "Go talk to him. Most of the time I can't read him, so I wouldn't have a clue."

"That's why I'm trying to find him." You say, to which Peter answers with "I think I saw him heading to the top floor."

And so you make your way to the stairs to heaven (hell). You had just walked down them in an effort to find Miguel, now you were walking up them...in an effort to find Miguel. This fact only seemed make you even more annoyed with him.

Great, you got your job back, but at this point you needed to know why. You needed to know what made him change his mind that quickly. Nothing else ever has. Miguel has always been one to make final decisions, with not much there to sway him.

You think back to Miguel’s reasoning for his initial firing, as you walk up the steps. It was because of the attack. So why would he re-hire you because of another one? Or more so because of the same masked men who had attacked. Were they even the reason?

Does Miguel think you know something, and is wanting you back to tell him? No—you think to yourself. He wouldn’t re-hire you for that simple reason.

When you reach the top, your gaze gets caught up in a decision of what direction to take. None of his offices were up here. The only place you can think that Miguel would go is his room.

But you pause in front of his door. Did you really want to go in there? He’s clearly not working if is in there. God, but you had too many unanswered questions, so you knock.

It’s silent for a moment, besides your breathing and the distant chatter of spider-people. You go to knock again, but the door creaks open. It’s darker inside, the dim lighting reminding you of one of his past requests. You can remember the feel of his broad shoulders when giving him that massage. The small groans he would let slip.

You had pushed aside that memory, not liking the way it made your entire body buzz. “Miguel?”

Then he opens the door wider, staring down at you. His position was surprisingly relaxed, one arm leant against the doorframe, as he wore those monotoned clothes that brought out his red eyes.

Speaking of those red eyes, you caught them scanning your body, a little too slowly and for a little too long. You gulp, not meaning to come across so nervous.

You hold up the severely scrunched up note. Miguel shifts his gaze to it. “I see you decided to take your annoyance out on that this time.” He comments.

You narrow your eyes. “Why am I not fired?”

“I thought you’d be happy to see that note.” He says, relaxing more against the doorframe.

“No. I’m not happy to see any note.” You say, lowering your arm. “Why couldn’t you just tell me in person?”

“Because I wanted to avoid this.” He gestures to you in general.

“You can’t expect me not to be a little curious at the sudden change of heart.” You say, trying not to let your gaze drift down his body. When he had shifted his shirt rose a fraction, letting you see part of his hips and abs.

Of course he had abs. You weren’t blind to how built he was, but the small visual still seemed to make you blink too many times and your brain re-wire.

“You don’t need to be curious.” Miguel states, his tongue running along his fang as if he were bored, but the expression in his eyes begged to differ.

“But I am.” You say, tucking the note in your back pocket. “Look, it’s beneficial for you if I know the reason. Then I can work on what made you want to fire me and continue doing what made you re-hire me.”

“Don’t do what made me re-hire you.” Miguel quickly answers.

Your brows furrow. “You’re saying that like what I did was bad…Why would you hire me for something you don’t want me to do again?”

“You ask a lot of questions, you know that?”

“Don’t worry, I have a lot more in my head for you.” You smile.

Miguel shakes his head, looking away with a clench to his jaw. The tiniest of smiles edged the corner of his mouth, but with his turned away head you weren’t able to catch it. And when he glanced back it was gone.

“Can’t I do something without being questioned?” Miguel asks. “I mean, you got your job back, you should be happy…and any other sparkly emotion.”

“You should use those ‘sparkly emotions’ more often, O’Hara. You know people who can lead with positivity usually get more people on their side.” You tilt your head with a raise to your brow.

“You do realise going off track isn’t gonna make me tell you anything.” Miguel says.

Your smile falls as you press your lips together with a sigh. Miguel darts his gaze up your form again, checking your injuries. Your ankle was only partially sprained so no cast was needed, but his gaze kept on getting caught up on the small cuts that littered your body. Some faint, some more prominent, like the one on your bottom lip.

Before he knows it he’s grabbing a belt loop of your pants, pulling you slightly closer as he tilts your head how he wants. Your eyes widen at the action as your heart begins to pick a quicker pace. Two of his fingers stay under your chin—keeping your head tilted up—while his thumb hovers over your cut lip, his gaze narrowed in inspection.

“You should make sure that that doesn’t get infected.” He says in a whisper.

You scoff, though it comes out softer than intended, you having to gulp immediately after. You had been right—having him this close was going to give you a heart attack. “That’s rich coming from you.” Your voice has turned to a mere whisper also.

“You keep seeming to forget that you’re only human.” He mutters. “Weak.”

“You forgot annoying.” You mutter back. Miguel meets your gaze and you freeze. He was close. Too close. Because your mind was beginning to fog over as you stared at Miguel’s intrigued eyes.

Then suddenly he says “We’ll continue our Spanish lessons in a few hours.”

“I don’t think that’s necessary anymore.” You say, to which his eyes narrow, his hold still keeping your head tilted up.

“Really?” He sounds disbelieving. “So, you manage to say one Spanish sentence, and that’s it? you’re done?” He tilts his head his eyes darting. “I thought you were more determined than that.”

You narrow your eyes in turn. “And I learnt that sentence from my phone. So, yes, I think I’m fine.”

A small sneering smirk began to curve his lips. “I thought I took your phone.”

Your mouth opens and closes. “I…got a new one.”

“Or…you stole it back.” He counters, raising a brow.

“It’s easier this way. I don’t have to bother you with lessons.”

“But I liked getting something in return.” He answers smoothly.

“You were asking for things anyone could do.” You say.

“But I’d have to pay for someone to give me a massage.” He mocks sadness. “When you were there being oh so nice and generous.”

“I wasn’t being generous. It was apart of the deal.”

“And it still is.”

“No. You firing me, got rid of the deal altogether.” You say, moving to step away, wanting to breath in air that wasn’t getting mixed in with his.

But he pulls you back, tightening his hold on your chin a fraction, one of his fingers dragging to rest on the in-between of your jaw and neck.

“But I re-hired you, which means the deal’s back on.”

“What if I say no to the job?” You suddenly ask.

“Chaparrita, you’re not gonna say no.”

And you hated the fact that he was right. No matter what people said you did like this job, being around all these spider variants. It settled for an interesting life.

Miguel’s finger—that rested by your jaw—started to subtly caress back and forth. It had soon grown into a habit of his, when he got the chance to touch you.

There was almost something soothing about it for him. Being able to feel your soft skin against his claws, that he would usually only use for violence. A contradiction that silently said to him ‘Not everything about you is violent. Not everything has to be’.

And those words only seemed to come up in your presence. At first he had been annoyed by them and that fact. He doesn’t have time or the energy for “feelings” and such. He had to stay focused.

But over—especially—the past few days his annoyance had fizzled away, slowly but surely. Shifting to a feeling that he much preferred, one that made his body buzz with heat. And of course—only in your presence.

So, yes, maybe he did re-hire you so that the masked men wouldn’t be able to find you in your home, but maybe it was also for selfish reasons. Not liking the idea of not seeing you, even if his scowl was still present.

He liked being around you, even just listening to you talk. It all still confused him, but he finally recognised his want for you to stay. To make him feel settled, calm even.

At the end of the day, both his ‘reasons’ for re-hiring you are selfish and he knows it. He wants you close and in his line of vision, and he was going to make sure things stayed that way.

“Alright.” You say, finally agreeing to continuing this deal with Miguel. “But please don’t make me run around endlessly.”

“Have I been?” He shakes his head for you. “No. I’ve only given you easy tasks.”

You don’t why he has but you are definitely grateful. “Don’t use your phone again.” He suddenly says.

“Many people use phones for different thin—“

Miguel cuts in, sparing you an annoyed look. “For Spanish lessons.”

You finally manage to step back, holding in your sigh of relief until you were alone. Miguel watched you intently, catching onto the way your hand began to fiddle nervously with the very same belt loop he had been holding onto.

“I’ll uh…see you in a few hours then.” You say, beginning to step backwards down the hallway. “In the tech room?”

Miguel shakes his head. “It’s still being repaired. Just come back to my room.”

You ignore the flutter in your stomach, as you nod. “See you then.” Then you swiftly turn and head towards the stairs.

Miguel watches you go, his lips curving up into an easy smile.

;;

A few hours later—those hours having been filled with back and forth thoughts—you were walking past all the different spider variants, heading towards Miguel’s room.

You narrowed your feelings down to nervousness, having gone in a roundabout of thinking ‘it’s fine’ ‘I’ll be fine’ to ‘im starting to sweat’ ‘why the hell am I starting to sweat?!’

“Y/n!” A voice stopped you, and you turn to see Miles, Gwen and Hobie.

“Miles.” You smile. “So sorry for practically leaving you back there.” You did feel bad.

“Please don’t. I would have told you to run anyway. Those men were scary.” He made a face which made you chuckle. “They had like….real large claws.”

“Yeah…would much prefer never to see them again.” You half chuckle.

“How are you?” Gwen asks, taking her hood off.

You nod. “Good. Better. Yeah…a lot better.” You glance down at your ankle. “Wish I wasn’t so accident prone though.”

“Nah.” Hobie begins, swinging his arm around your shoulder. “You jus’ have a running theme of bein’ in the wrong place at the wrong time.”

“That makes me feel so much better.” You scoff.

“Where are you headed anyway?” Hobie asks you.

“Oh, just to Miguel’s—“ you pause. You were gonna say ‘Miguel’s bedroom’ but then realised how strange that would sound. “To speak to Miguel.”

“I thought you already did?” Gwen asks, brushing her hair from her eyes.

“Yes…but…we have more to discuss.” You nod.

“Like what? Does he want to talk to you about his strange display of worry the other day?” Hobie asks with a sly smirk.

You glance at him, brows furrowing. “Coz that don’t really sound like him.” Hobie continues.

“You’re doing that face again.” You say, narrowing your eyes.

“Am I?” He again prays innocence.

“Yeah, you are. And it’s beyond annoying.”

“Jus’ like I thought he found you.” Hobie mutters almost smugly.

“What?”

In response Hobie just smiles at you, putting his hands in his pockets. You shift your gaze to Gwen, who is looking away.

“Why are you guys acting so suspicious?” You ask.

“We just find it…strange is all.” Gwen says.

“Find what strange?”

“Well…Miguel was the one to bring you in…which isn’t strange, but it was just the way he was acting.” Gwen begins, making your brows furrow further.

“I’m not following.” You say slowly.

“He didn’t really let any of the doctors touch you up.” Gwen continues.

“Then how….?” You’re confused. Because you had woken up with clean cuts and a fixed ankle.

“Ay, what are we all talking about, you guys?” Pav appears, swinging down from a different ceiling path.

“Jus’ about Miguel’s strange actions in medical.” Hobie says.

“Oh yeah!” Pav nods quickly. “He was acting really different. Wouldn’t let anyone near you, y/n.” He gestures to you, to which you raise your brows in disbelief. Then Pav chuckles. “It was almost like he was—“

But Gwen cuts him quickly. “He was just acting different. That’s all.” Gwen spares Pavitr a small glare.

“Okayyy.” You drag out, eyeing them all again. “Right now Miles is the only one seeming to be acting normal. Which I appreciate.” You had begun to back up down the path. Miles spares you a small smile in response.

As you begin to head to Miguel’s room, their words circled your head. What did they mean by ‘didn’t let the doctors touch you up’ or ‘didn’t let anyone near you’. They’re right—that is different from Miguel. So far different that you just can’t seem to believe it.

Maybe they were playing some prank. But even though you can see Hobie and Pav coming up with that joke, you can’t see Gwen getting in on it.

But those thoughts soon drift away as you near Miguel’s door again. You knock, feeling your palms increase in sweat.

Miguel opens the door. Upon seeing you he tilts his head, asking for you to come inside. You do, slipping past him and into the cozy, dim room.

“I hope you’ve come up with some helpful phrases.” You say turning to him. “Because I gave up my phone for this.”

Miguel pulls out a desk chair, taking a seat. You look around, seeing no other chair to occupy. “Use my bed.” He says, gesturing to his ruffled sheets.

You turn your gaze to it, holding down the small hitch of your breath. Why was it hitching? It was just a bed.

You walk over, carefully taking a seat at the edge, facing an already seated Miguel. “And yes, I am better than your phone.” He says, meeting your gaze.

“You sure?” You question. “My phone is pretty helpful.”

“And you’re saying I’m not?” Miguel asks with a small tilt his head. “That hurts.” His dry humour was something that had grown on you. Whether you liked it or not.

“Quiero ir a la feria.” It was a simple beginner question that you repeated effortlessly.

“Quiero ir a la feria.”

“It means ‘I want to go to the fair’.” Miguel explains.

After a few more simple sentences, a idea pops up in Miguel’s head. He probably shouldn’t execute it, but of course he still will.

“Me encantaría usar tu cama para otras cosas.” Miguel says, waiting for you to repeat it.

“Me encantaría usar tu cama para otras cosas.” You repeat, your flow having gotten a lot better.

Miguel’s breathing hitches upon hearing the words. You had assumed he got you to say something simple, along the lines of ‘I am a farmer who plants trees’. But he instead made you say ‘I’d love to use your bed for other things’.

And Miguel should probably stop and move on, but he doesn’t particularly want to. “¿No crees que me vería bonita atrapada entre tus sábanas, Miguel?”

“Aren’t you gonna tell me what the other sentence means?” You ask.

“Repeat it.” Miguel doesn’t budge.

You sigh. “¿No crees que me vería bonita atrapada entre tus sábanas, Miguel?” (Don’t you think I’d look pretty trapped in your sheets, Miguel?) You tilt your head, staring at him. All you know is that you asked him a question, but that’s about it.

Miguel breathes heavier, giving you a once over. “Tan bonita.” (So pretty.) He murmers.

“Do you want me to repeat that too?” You ask.

Miguel chuckles. “That’s fine.” Your words staying trapped in Miguel’s brain, seeming to repeat…over and over.

Miguel’s gaze kept flicking to your lips. Conflicting emotions resided behind this action. He could see your cut, which reminded him of the fact that you got dragged into a mess you didn’t particularly ask for, resulting in you getting injured and down right hunted.

The other emotion veered closer to his reasoning for getting you to say those sentences. He wanted to feel them. Lean closer…and see what they felt like. Maybe he wanted to soothe your cut with his tongue…

“Miguel? Are you gonna tell me what I just said?” You ask, leaning closer to get his attention.

Miguel meets your gaze. “I’ll let you try and figure it out.”

“That’s not very good teaching.” You mutter.

He just shrugs. “Then I guess you‘ll never know.”

“And don’t translate it on your phone.” Miguel says pointedly. “That would make you a bad student.”

You clench your jaw but nod. “Fine…” your gaze shifts to the window, seeing the dark sky.

You quickly stand. “I didn’t realise it was this late. I should go.” You begin to head to the door.

Miguel watches your every movement, until you glance back giving him a small nod. “Thanks for somewhat of a good lesson.”

Miguel just hums with a nod, as you turn shutting the door and leaving. Leaving Miguel to gaze back at his bed and where you were seated.

He had already begun to decide on what he wants in return.

ok, this post isn’t letting me add the colours and now I’m sad

this part was a little less action, coz i wanted focus more on miguel’s fEeLiNgS. coz boy does he have them

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taglist #2 taglist #3 taglist #4 taglist #5 taglist #6

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lovifie · 15 days

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Hiii 🩷

I really loved your ‘Mr & Mrs. Price’ story where his partner he is marrying is younger than him! I was wondering if you had anymore of those stories?

If not, I was wondering if you could write a little after they get married sort of thing. Like would they have kids right away, etc.

Thank you!!

Hi love!! 🩷🩷 Thank you for asking so nicely 💕

At the moment I don't have anything else written for Price and her younger wife, so I'll write you a little bit of what I thought would happen after the wedding.

A continuation to Mr. & Mrs. Price

The first thing would be the honeymoon, and Price gives me the vibes to go somewhere cold, like the Norwegian Fjords (? I don't know why, he just does. Constantly clinging to his wife like: "I'm cold, dear. Can't you see?" Only to sneaky get his hands under your clothes.

Friends and family complain about how little photos you took, but it's just because most of what you took, were taken inside your room. So many, so many pictures of his hand on your body, the gold band on his finger shining on all of them.

So much fluffy/dirty talk. "My dear, wifey... See? I told you I was going to marry you one day, and look at you, Mrs.Price... so fucking beautiful under me..."

Neither of you are surprised when a couple of months later you get a positive pregnancy test.

"We used protection..." Price says, as if that would change something.

"Yeah... Until we run out, Mr. I Pulled Out." You say.

Having a child so quickly after the wedding was neither of your plans, but Price was already talking about taking a step back from the dangerous mission and for some reason neither of you were panicking after the news.

It was a weird feeling, at first at least. But on the doctor appointment, when you hear the little alien's heartbeat it was set. Price's hand holding yours, the whole way back home.

He did step back from the dangerous mission, working at base helping the recruits and helping on the small missions, not wanting to be far from you. So he spent his working hours at base, and one day he forgot some documents at home and asked if you could bring them to him.

So you did.

You grabbed the folder, and drove your pregnant self to base.

Ghost was the one who saw you first, almost as you stepped off the car. And he was immediately on your side, stunned when he saw your belly.

"Are you..." He asked, not wanting to be rude; looking from your stomach to your face.

You quickly nod, the man's eyebrows disappearing under his mask. He took the folder from your hands, as if it was a heavy piece of furniture you were holding making you laugh. "Congratulations... That's what people say, right?"

You nod again, holding onto his arm to ease his mind as you walk towards Price's office. Small talk about how you were planning a baby shower and if he would like to assist, the panic clear on his face making you chuckle again.

"I'm pulling your leg, Simon. I'll send you a message with the important news." You say, patting his arm.

"And I will be forever grateful for it." He says, slowly falling in a comfortable chat with you.

Gaz and Soap walk out of Price's office just as you turn the corner. Both their expression of shock.

"Captain!" Soap calls him, annoyed with just finding out. "Ye got yer missus pregnant already? Ye filthy dog."

Price furrows his eyebrows, walking out and smiling widely. Quickly walking to you to give a kiss on the lips, his hands resting on your tummy.

"How are my girls doing, sweetheart?" He asks, Simon hearing it perfectly.

"Girls? You are having a baby girl?" He asks, making Gaz and Soap repeat it as echo.

You chuckle again, taking the fold from Ghost's hand and handing it to Price. "We are doing great today, John. Here's the documents, Simon wouldn't let me hold them myself."

"Good lad." He says, nodding at the mancunian making you shake your head.

Unlike Ghost, Gaz actually asks you about the baby shower and if he can assist. Price doesn't say anything, but he is really glad he offered; having now a familiar face at the party.

And even though only Gaz assists in person, he brings a present. "From Ghost, Soap and I, hope the girly likes it. Whenever she uses it."

He says that because the gift is a bright pink toy car for the baby to drive around.

Price complains about the safety of it, but later at night when everyone is gone he sits on the sofa, looking at you drive the car yourself talking about how you always wanted one as a kid. And Price is not sure how he got this lucky in life.

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hairmetal666 · 8 months

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Eddie Munson gets famous at fifteen, after a YouTube video goes viral.

He's the kind of famous where he can't leave his house without being mobbed; where his name is plastered across grocery store tabloids and every fifth Pop Crave post; who has to make special arrangements with stores, whose body guards have body guards, who's forgotten what it's like to be normal. He's the kind of famous with well-chronicled stints in and out of rehab

And he thinks, at thirty, why not do a reality show? Why not let everyone in the world into his life because they're there anyway?

There's this guy on the crew, beautiful as a fucking sunrise. He's all golden-tanned and chestnut-haired, with these big hazel eyes that makes Eddie stomach swoop deliciously whenever they happen to meet his.

His name is Steve.

And Eddie, well. He's learned his lesson about jumping into relationships. So, Steve is nice to look at, and that's all there is to it.

---

They're at the studio, and Eddie, he only smokes when he's recording but he's "not allowed" to do that inside. So, he steps out into the alley behind the building, eyes falling shut as he hands search his pockets for his pack of Camels and his Zippo.

"I didn't realize you smoked," a deep voice says from the darkness.

Eddie startles, eyes flying open. Steve is leaning against the brick of the building, cigarette perched between his pursed lips.

"Sorry, didn't mean to scare you. I'm Steve. With the crew."

"Eddie," he answers by instinct.

"I know," Steve chuckles. His hazel eyes are golden in the yellow streetlight.

"Oh, right." He lights his cigarette and inhales deep.

"I really like what you're doing in there." Steve nods his head towards the studio.

"You a fan?"

"Never listened to you much before. Not really a metal kinda guy, but I like it."

People aren't usually honest with Eddie. It's refreshing.

"Glad you're getting into it! How's your--uh, job going?"

Steve laughs. "First assistant camera, that's my job." Eddie's expression must read a total blank, but Steve only smiles. "I make sure everything's in focus while we film"

"Is that--hard?"

"Sometimes," Steve agrees. "How do you like being the star of a reality show?"

Eddie huffs out a breath. "It's more fun than I expected. Like, sure it's weird to have you guys follow me around, but at least I invited you, you know?"

Steve's dark eyes are fathomless in his perfect face. "You'll let me know? If anything happens that you don't like?"

Eddie nods, taken aback by the serious line of Steve's pretty mouth. Before he can respond more, the back door creaks open, Gareth's backlit shape leaning into the alley. "Eddie? They're ready for you."

"Duty calls." He smiles at Steve as he stomps out his cigarette. "See you around."

---

Eddie goes to a house party in the hills. It's just a handful of people, all of them he's known for years, no cameras in sight.

Someone asks how things are going with the band. Eddie doesn't think anything of it. Why should he, among friends? Why should he when they already know the resentment that Gareth, Jeff, and Freak have for him? Eddie got signed and not his band. The guys--they never really forgave him, think he could have tried harder.

So, he says--he says--"I wish they didn't resent me so goddamn much still. To this day! They're millionaires and they're pissed at me? Fuck that. I got them here. I got us all here."

They're filming the next day at Eddie's house. He's working on a new song, engrossed in his acoustic and his notebook.

He's so in the zone, it takes him a second to register when Gareth bursts into the house.

"Fuck you, Munson," Gareth screams. "What the fuck is this shit?" Eddie's own voice pours from Gareth's phone, and Eddie's stunned speechless for dozens of seconds as he tries to comprehend what's happening.

"I didn't--" he tires. He raises his hands placatingly, but his minds a whirlwind, thoughts a tangle, heart a mess of betrayal and hurt and fear.

"We should be fucking grateful?" Gareth yells. "You spoiled piece of shit, fuck you!" He lunges towards Eddie, but Steve darts from behind the camera, moving to block Gareth's path.

"Stop filming," Eddie shouts. He lifts his arms to block the shit. "Get out," he snaps at the crew. " Now!"

He and Gareth scuffle towards a set of double-doors, heated words low and unintelligible.

"Don't come in." He tells the crew. "Steve, I mean it. Tell them to stop."

Eddie shoves Gareth into the other room, slamming the door behind him. Still, the mics pick up the screaming fight between the two men.

Hours later, Eddie finally makes his way back to the main part of the house, finds Steve standing at the kitchen island.

"Why are you still here?" He's too exhausted from the fight to put any inflection into it.

"I was wo--I wanted to make sure everything was okay," Steve says. He relaxes against the island. "Are yo--is everything okay?"

Eddie's laugh is humorless. "Something like that."

"Do you want to talk about it?"

The tears he kept at bay with Gareth prick at his eyelids until they burn. "Not really, no."

Steve nods. "We could--you wanna watch a movie?"

This startles a laugh out of Eddie, one that has tears flooding his eyes and he has to blink fast, look down, anything so Steve doesn't notice.

"You know what I want?" he says. It's soft enough that maybe Steve, across the kitchen, wouldn't hear.

"What?"

"To have friends who won't sell me out for a couple thousand bucks." The tears start falling, his throat choked with emotion.

He wants to stop, embarrassed to be crying in front of Steve, but now that he's started, sobs shake his shoulders and he can't keep quiet.

Steve reaches for him. "Is this okay?" he whispers, hands rubbing circles against his back.

Eddie nods, cries for a while as Steve makes soothing motions against his back.

"I just wish I was normal," he mumbles when he has words again.

Steve's hold on him tightens. "I'm sorry, Eddie."

Shame hits him then, too hard to ignore, and he steps away. "I'm gonna--I'm gonna go. I--Thanks again."

He ignores the sound of Steve calling him back.

---

Eddie's playing a show. He's playing a show in a small club, something he hasn't been able to do for years, but he's doing it right now. It's electric, vibrating through his body, the crowd screaming along with every word.

So much of this is because of Steve, and Eddie can't think about it, because men like Steve aren't for guys like Eddie.

As he plays, his eyes scan the small crowd, find Steve easily. He's gazing at Eddie, lips slicked pink and parted, eyes shining. Eddie knows this look; the naked desire obvious. A heat he never lets himself feel for Steve blooms low in his abdomen, but--

He wails into his mic, forcing his thoughts away from that path. He has a show to play, one that's pumping his veins full of satisfied adrenaline. Nothing can ruin it.

When the show ends, Eddie is high, endorphins and adrenaline pounding through his bloodstream.

Eddie, the band, and the film crew make their way out the club's backdoor. There's a car idling close by, but they only get a few steps in before there's shouting; the ear-shattering click of dozens of camera shutters; overwhelming burst of flashes.

Eddie is disoriented, dizzy; the rapid shift from the best night he's had in years, to this, mobbed by paparazzi, people screaming his name, crowding their small group. He stumbles, black spots still obstructing his vision.

Arms catch around him, holding him steady. "You okay?" Steve asks.

Before he can answer, one of the paps yells, "Munson's wasted! Can't even walk!"

"C'mon, Ed, I've got you," Steve says.

"Just get into the booze, Munson, or someone had Molly too? Maybe a little coke? That used to be your thing, right? Snort a little blow and do a show?"

Eddie tenses, almost stops, but Steve keeps him going.

The crowd surges around them, more voices yelling, more flashbulbs popping, the guy saying, "He can't even stand without help! You got a real problem you know?"and he just--can't anymore. He whirls out of Steve's grasp, lunges for the guy.

"What's your fucking problem, man?" Eddie hisses. "What did I do to you, huh?"

"Real tough, Munson, huh?" The man sneers. He shoves Eddie hard, knocking him back a few steps.

Eddie's vision fuzzes out, brain buzzing. He snarls, knows he does, knows he's losing it, can't make it stop.

Strong arms wrap around his waist, pull him off his feet. He fights it until he's pressed into a wall, until cold hands cup his face.

"Baby, baby, you have to calm down," Steve murmurs. "You have to breathe, can you do that for me?"

"I want--he can't--I--"

Steve presses harder against him, bodies joined. "You're having a panic attack, yeah? Can you breathe with me, baby? Match me?"

Eddie nods, tries, wants to be good for Steve.

He calms, as much from the breathing exercise as being held by the most beautiful man he's ever seen. Pressing his face against Steve's neck he says, "why are you always around for my worst moments? I'm such a fucking mess."

"I don't think you're a mess," he says. "I think you've gotten hurt, you've gotten cornered. And your reactions are normal."

"Why do you even care?" Eddie asks.

Steve doesn't even pause. "Cause I like you, Eddie." His hold tightens for a second. "I like you a lot."

Eddie scoffs. "Yeah, you like Eddie Munson, the hot rockstar. Not the loser who cries in your arms"

Cold air hits Eddie as Steve steps away to meet Eddie's eyes. You want to know something? I didn't expect to like you at all. I admit, I bought into all the stories on the internet. But you were never anything like that, Ed. Not even once."

Steve takes a deep breath, turning away as his cheeks grow pink. "And you--you're always going out of your way for people. The day I knew I was gone for you? Three weeks into filming. There was this kid interning. You didn't know a thing about him, just some twenty-year-old, and you sat down and talked to him. Were genuinely interested in everything he said."

"Steve," Eddie's voice breaks. He has to cover his mouth, lips a wobbling mess.

"I want to give you normal, Eddie, as much as I can. If you'll let me."

The moisture tumbles free from his eyes, streaking down his cheeks. Eddie laughs. "God, Steve, you're--I like you, too."

Steve brushes the tears away. "So, you'd go on a date with me?"

"I think I would really like to go on a date with you, yeah."

Steve leans in, slow and gentle, placing a soft kiss at the corner of Eddie's mouth. It lights him up like a fresh struck match, nerve endings on fire. He thinks it's so much more than like already.

"Take me home, sweetheart," he says.

"Getting fresh with me, Munson," Steve smirks. "I won't have you using your rockstar wiles to seduce me."

Eddie's laugh echoes off the brick of the surrounding buildings. "Oh, sweetheart, my rockstar ways will destroy you."

"That a promise?"

---

Six months later, the first and only season of Welcome to Hell premieres. Instead, of chronicling a rockstar's debauched and wild lifestyle, it's a soft and charming love story. It shows Steve and Eddie growing closer, Steve working late into the night, to give Eddie the hint of normalcy he's so desperate for, to make him happy. It shows Eddie's eyes track Steve across a room, something like sadness crossing his face. It shows a concert that Steve arranged, the fight with the pap outside the venue, brief glimpses of Steve and Eddie in the aftermath, the gentle kiss.

In the last interview of the season, the producer asks Eddie if there will be a season two of Welcome to Hell.

Eddie smiles, glances off camera, which pans to find Steve in worn jeans and a Metallica hoodie, hair messy and wearing glasses. He gazes at Eddie, smiles this soft, aching thing.

"Nah, I don't think I need it anymore," Eddie answers. Throwing the camera a smile that matches Steve's.

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bitchlessdino · 1 year

Note

i just read fuck marry kill and it was sooooooo good gah i love it , idk if its rude to ask thos but can u make a mingyu wonu and seungcheol version of it too? they are my baises and i would love something like that !! u can alternate the setting if u please :>

tysm 💘

-💫

Pairing: fem!reader x ex!mingyu x seungcheol x wonwoo

Genre: smut

Word count: 5.6k

tags: poly, exhibitionism, voyeurism, degradation, pet names (princess), unprotected sex (except cheol), praise kink, spanking, clit slapping, fingering, oral (rec. and giving), u, pussy slapping, ass play, triple penetration

Summary: one dumb party game makes a comeback.

author note: tbh i initally wondered how someone could ask to replace some of the members in the original, but then I realized how grateful that it got the attention it did that another version was requested. these were honestly really fun to write and I'm glad to have found a way to tie in the last version and this one to make a spinoff!

“Fuck Cheol, obvious because he has the experience. Marry Wonwoo because he just seems like he knows how to treat someone well. And duh, kill Mingyu because he’s Mingyu.”

“You’re such a bitch.”

You glance back at the man you hypothetically killed, now giving you a cold dead stare, making you grin smugly before taking a swig from your beer. “Takes one to know one.”

He raises a brow, now leering at you, “I hope you’re alone forever.”

You slightly slam your empty bottle on the coffee table, “And I can already tell you’re halfway there.”

He scoffs, crossing his arms, “Oh yeah, remind me again who approached who?”

“Remind me again who also dumped who?”

Mingyu was baffled. It had been months since you both had broken up and you still used that to pull over his head. You had your reasons for ending things, he knew that but had hoped to salvage some of the good left in your relationship with him. Once it was over, you mutually agreed on being friends, willing to forget about all that’s happened because you were friends first, but he knew that better than anyone, that shit was never easy.

“Uh, guys?”

Wonwoo’s voice, despite being as timid as it was, asserted attention with two words alone. Mingyu and you look at Wonwoo, still angry at one another, but melt at their friend’s concern, putting aside their petty disagreement. You exhale in an attempt of calming your heart rate and pat Wonwoo’s hand reassuringly, “We’re good. Just how we are. Mingyu gets it.”

Wonwoo was never one for conflict. He was the glue to hold this entire group together. If it wasn’t for him, the terror couple would've never made up the way they did.

“Yeah, we’re just horsing around, but that does remind me,” Mingyu is quick to turn the attention to Seungcheol, a cheeky smile bright on the younger man’s face, “You promised to discuss the details of what happened after the birthday party.”

The eldest arches a brow, amused by Mingyu’s statement, and decides to entertain the idea, “When the hell did I promise that?”

“You didn’t, but you might as well after I caught that group chat,” Mingyu scoots closer to him, “Go on, tell us all about you having to share with three other dicks.”

Seungcheol clicks his tongue, already scolding him. “There were two other dicks, first of all. Secondly, it just happened. You can’t really plan a foursome.”

You peer over at him intrigued. “You technically can, but considering you just did it out of nowhere, I don’t know whether to be disgusted or impressed. I thought you’d be way more responsible and boring than that.”

His eyes shoot back at your assumption. “I am not fucking boring and you can be responsible in an orgy! We all knew what were doing, we all consented, and we were all clean–”

“Boring…get on to the part where three of your dicks were in her at once.” A flying head smack makes its destination to the back of Mingyu’s head and instantly he’s offended, glaring back at his assailant. “Hey!”

“Don’t talk about anything you’re uncomfortable with Cheol. It’s your dick, it’s your sex life,” You reassure.

“Well, it’s not just my story to tell so I’ll leave it at this.” All ears perk in his direction, even Wonwoo, who was quietly observing, couldn’t help but ponder on the rare experience Seungcheol had at that birthday party. “There is nothing more satisfying than seeing a pussy so full. I kid you not, I would do it over and over again just to see the look on her face.”

Not a dry eye in his audience. You hold your hand over your mouth in shock, Mingyu’s howling like the moon had just come out, and even Wonwoo was stunned at such an obscene statement, blinking into the distance like he’s in The Office. Seungcheol, filled with pride, picks himself off from the ground and dusts any dirt off. “I’ll be back. Too much beer. No one kill anybody.”

He ambles off to the restroom, closing the door behind him.

“Ah,” Wonwoo claps his sweater paws together, “there’s a game I was waiting to buy. I still have some time before then. Need to be first in line.”

He hurriedly gets up from the floor and rushes to his room, “I’ll be back! 20–30 minutes tops!”

You two are left alone and awkward silence fills the air. Things were never really the same since your relationship ended, but things weren’t ever really it when you were together either.

“Foursome huh?” You ponder. “Didn’t seem like his kind of activity but if he enjoys it.”

Mingyu scoffs, ready to start smth again. “What? Jealous he’s getting more action than you?”

“Not jealous, just worried. How can a human body take that much cock and still walk around all normally? Happy birthday to them,” you snicker.

“Don’t worry, you won’t have to worry about that many dicks wanting to be inside you.”

You glare at him, your teeth grinding behind your fake smile. “You sure talk a lot for someone as bitchless as you are.”

“Excuse you, I am fucking stacked with pussy right now, speak when you have your facts right, ��mmkay?”

You let out a curt guffaw, “Please, you are so fucking lucky you had me when you did. No damn way in hell you could’ve gotten laid without me.”

Mingyu slouches, drawing his jaw open. “Wow. I get it now”

“Get what? How big of a loser you are?”

He shakes his head. “No...You miss my dick so bad.”

You make a show of yourself laughing, even physically doubling over. “In your fucking dreams, you human pandemic.”

“Admit it. You miss our sex. It’s why you’re such a fucking a bitch to me. To throw my game off.”

“Oh honey, you don’t need my help doing that.”

“Please! You got this territorial thing because we were each other’s first. You’re obsessed with me. I see that now.”

“Right, you’re drunk,” you pick yourself up from the ground this time and saunter off to the kitchen, “I couldn’t care less about who you sleep with. As long as it doesn’t involve me.”

“You’re such a liar,” he insults as he gets up to follow.

He positions himself by your side as you distract yourself in the kitchen, mindlessly looking for, well, anything. Why was every cupboard empty? You really have to remember to go grocery shopping with Wonwoo later.

“Am not,” You insist, no finding haven in the fridge, which also happened to be barren of things except half a dozen eggs, a carton of milk, and for some reason a box of m&ms.

“You can’t even look me in the eyes right now. Say it while looking at me.”

You scoff without looking, “I don’t have to prove myself.”

“Why? Because you can’t? Admit it.” His hand trails over your backside as you stall at the fridge, trailing underneath your shirt and sending chills.

You can practically count his breaths as his lips ghost over your ears, smiling against your skin. You almost let out a gasp at the close proximity of his hips pressed into your back, your heartbeat heightening, but immediately close your mouth shut, not giving him the satisfaction. That didn’t bother him though, your body language was enough. You were frozen under pressure, unable to fight back, let alone talk back, similar to how you used to get in the past only minutes before he gets you cum like the mess you were.

His hand slides over your bare stomach, feeling you tense it up as a result. “You loved when I ate out your dirty little pussy. You begged for it. Remember?”

You shudder at his touch, gripping the handle of the fridge for safety, “Mingyu—“

“Don’t think I forgot how you moaned my name either,” he finds the top button of your pants with ease, unbuttoning it and pulling the metal zipper down, “Tell me to stop. Otherwise, I’ll just keep going.”

When you grow silent, he takes it as a sign to keep going. He presses his lips to the back of your ear, hand falling to your thigh and cupping over your clothed cunt. You dip into the fridge’s cold, taming the heat in your body, while Mingyu makes that difficult to resist. Your back arch, fitting seamlessly to Mingyu’s figure, soft, yet desperate, sighs escaping from your lips.

“Mingyu please…”

“Mmh, just like that…” he nibbles against your ear, slowly and cautiously he sinks his hand down your pants and finds your arousal, a thin film of it already coating his fingers, “your voice was pretty just like that. Whining about how you need my dick inside of you or begging to let you cum on my fingers. You were such a sweet little slut for me. Tell me you don’t miss that.”

You’re shaking so much, you could feel your legs seconds away from giving out. You shut the refrigerator close and turn to face him, leveraging yourself against the appliance’s cool exterior. He pins himself against you, sliding his digits between your slit, making contact with the clit, and pinching it between his thumb and index. You can’t help but crack a small moan, only loud enough for him to hear, and he just chuckles. “There you are. Old habits die hard don’t they?”

He does his best in reminding you of the old times, even rubbing your pussy how he used to, getting your sweat pilling on your forehead, or your voice getting raspy as if you were left to die in a desert. Fuck him for still having that effect on you.

“Please…you’ll get us caught.” You plead weakly.

“You say that like you actually want us to get caught.”

He pulls out his fingers from your pants, sticking them in his mouth before sucking your juices from them. You watch in a hypnotized state, mouth gaping in envy, desperate to have his lips wrapped around you, your lips, your cunt, anywhere as long as it's your body. “Sweet. Just like how I remember.”

You gulp hard, staring back into his carnal gaze, and observe as he slowly pulls out his fingers and rests them against your cheek, parting your lips back with his thumb.

“Am I interrupting something?”

As an impulse, you push Mingyu several feet away from you, hiding your undone pants behind a kitchen counter. The taller man can’t help but suppress his boisterous laughter threatening to seep out and only glances back at his friend’s sudden appearance in amusement, feeling like the victor in the situation. Meanwhile, you made yourself physically small, tucking away in the corner of the kitchen where he can’t see you panic while fixing your pants but inevitably fail. “S-Seungcheol.”

Mingyu lets his smugness show. “I don’t know. Is he, Y/n? Is he interrupting something?”

“No, of course not. Just caught me a…rough spot.”

Seungcheol rolls his eyes. “Look, if you guys are going to have sex and get back together. No one is stopping you.”

“Excuse me,” you feel rather insulted at his assumption, it was condescending entirely.

“Come on, it was bound to happen eventually. Save us, the tittering and whatever.”

You push past Mingyu to walk straight to Seungcheol, shoving his heavy build. “What I do with my body and my life is not up to Mingyu or you, Choi Seungcheol. Fuck you.”

He leers down at you. “Don’t get mad at me because you know I’m right, you brat.”

“Oh, because you fuck with a few extra people, you think you know everything, don’t you?”

“More than your ‘only Mingyu having ass’,” he taunts.

If Mingyu was the ex, and Wonwoo’s the innocent bystander, Seungcheol, in your case, was a shit stirrer. He pushes your buttons about the same as Mingyu some of the time. He was supposed to be your closest friend, your longest friend. Somewhere that had changed. You used to tell each other everything and now he was getting into threesomes?

“Yeah?”

“Yeah.”

“Well, fuck you.” You push him back onto the couch behind him, having him collapse seamlessly against it before you’re straddling him.

Your lips latch onto him assertively, tugging and, no doubt, stretching his plain tee. If Seungcheol minded, he didn't seem to show it, and instead kisses you back, matching your aggression. Although initially startled, it doesn’t take him long to adjust to your pace. He handles your body as if he belongs to him, gripping you by the back of your neck as his other hand tucks around the shape of your ass, firmly squeezing it.

“You’re so, mmh, f-frustrating sometimes.” You manage to comment between your moans.

He snickers under his breath, hand running through your hair and pulling at its strands, tugging your head back, “And you can be a real bitch.”

Your blossoming attraction for him only made it all the more frustrating. You always did notice that he behaves a more particular way around you over the past few years. Somewhere between distant and insensitive. Whatever it was, you were gonna take it out on him, and maybe that’s what he wanted.

Scoffing, you grind against his bulge, harshly brushing it against your cunt. “I’ll show you a bitch.”

He grunts beneath your efforts, quickly returning your offense. His hands travel underneath your shirt, pressing into your flesh. His teeth bite down, pulling on your bottom lip, and you can sweet his smile as he does it. He thrusts up into you, rocking back at your core, waiting to fill out what you’ve been dying to entrust him with. The thought itself made you wet (as if you weren’t already from that little incident with Mingyu).

The man that previously had been watched was now the one watching. It was all face paced but it was like he watching in slow motion. He observes the placement of Seungcheol’s hands, and how they grabbed you possessively, even hearing the growl under the elder’s breath. Your moans grow louder when the man’s lips are suctioned around your neck, your nails noticeably digging as his hands slide lower to feel the bare ass beneath your jeans.

Mingyu sucks in his breath, repositioning the spot in his jeans. He impulsively licks his licks, unable to look away. “Didn’t expect that.”

“Me neither.”

Startled, Mingyu cups his erection as his eyes shoot up alert, finally noticing his four-eyed friend has emerged from his bedroom without so much as making a single wood board squeak. “The fuck? Did you come back from the shadow realm?”

Wonwoo shrugs nonchalantly. “The deed is done, and this is a thing now, I guess.”

Wonwoo just how Mingyu felt about you over the years despite the flaming misalignments with your personalities. He couldn’t imagine the thoughts running in his best friend's head right now.

He turns Mingyu in concern, seeing the man’s eyes glisten in the scene's direction. “You okay?”

Was he? He’s looking at one of his best friends furiously getting it on with his ex, neither of them giving a damn who watches and he should be furious. He should be enraged. He should be at least bothered by what’s happening, but no. Only one thing was furious.

“No,” Mingyu answers, “I’m horny.”

He leaves Wonwoo’s company to join you and Seungcheol on the couch, immediately taking your head back in a hungry kiss as Seungcheol finds solace back on your neck, finding weak weak points in mere seconds, and you can’t help but moan in Mingyu’s liplock. Wonwoo is at first confused about what to do, only able to watch at first until his curiosity piques.

In the midst of his observation, you’ve gone pantless, quickly followed by Seungcheol and Mingyu, and has quickly adjusted to double the attention. Seungcheol manages to pull out a few spare condoms from his wallet all too conveniently, handing one off to Mingyu, who was ready to whip his angry erection out any second. He then lays his eyes on Wonwoo, staring off in his direction, still suckling on your neck. He gestures to him to take the extra condom, nonverbally inviting him into the spontaneous mix.

The bystander hesitates, staring back at the silver wrapper as if it was a foreign object, unsure if he was really offered to join or had this situation become a common courtesy for a latecomer such as him.

“Take the condom, Woo. You’re gonna need it with what we’re about to do,” Seughcheol ushers against your flaming skin.

Wonwoo inches closer in baby steps, hand stretching out and grasping the plastic, and at the same time, you pull away from either man from the couch, turning your whole attention to Wonwoo. You grab him by his collar and smash against his lips. It’s strange, almost wrong at most, you were already occupying someone else’s lap, but in a strange way, empowering. His hand crawls up the side of your face to deepen the kiss, feeling your tongue explore his mouth just as you did the other two, while they were only able to watch.

Exhibitionism, let alone orgy, was never on his bingo card. Sex for him wasn’t even that regular an occurrence for him, but he could see now the taste of what Seungcheol was talking about. There was something satisfyingly carnal about sharing someone. You play into their hands as if your life depended on it, but felt all that same arousal anyone else in that group did.

With that thought in mind, it invoked something in Wonwoo. Shivers ran down his spine the moment your hand goes to cup the bulge of his track pants, feeling him grow bigger in size when you slip past the waistband and slid beneath his briefs. His eyes fluttered at the soft sensation of your fingertips, teasing the precum squeezing out of the head.

“You feel so big, Woo,” you gasp out as your grasp travels down his length, “let me suck on it, please.”

The man shifts in his seat, delirious to the point of being mute, only able to nod triumphantly as you begin tugging the pants and underwear off, collecting the fabric at his ankles.

“Princess,” Seungcheol beckons, “why don’t you lay your stomach on my lap to get closer to Wonwoo’s cock.”

You nod obediently, satisfied with your new pet name, getting off of Seungcheol’s lap to place yourself back on again, this time your ass in view for Seungcheol and Mingyu to appreciate. Mingyu’s teeth catch his bottom lip, groping himself through his briefs. “Fuck.”

He can’t help but land a full-handed spank against your cheek, causing you to flinch after your grip wrapped around the base of Wonwoo’s cock and he feels a tight squeeze around his girth and he throws back his head from the sensitivity, “Gyu, for god’s sake.”

“Sorry, dude, couldn’t help myself,” the younger man chuckles, “but she likes that. You like all our attention on you, don’t you?”

You let out a light chuckle, a smug grin stretching over your face. “Yes, yes I do.”

Seungcheol couldn’t help fixating on your ass pulling your waistband down to the curve and sliding a dry finger up your wet slit, groaning at simply how gloriously wet you were. “Shit. You’re fucking soaked. You can take my fingers right, princess?”

“Mmh, yes, Cheol. Give it to me…”

As you’re spitting into your hand, stroking handfuls of Wonwoo in your hand, you can feel Seungcheol fitting two digits in your moisture and hooking them in place. He goes easy on you, mildly prepping you, while you drop your head and wrap your lips around the tip of Wonwoo’s length, swirling circles on to lap up the bit of his precum, your soft giggles vibrating against the spectacled man.

His gaze softens at you, petting your hair and caressing your cheek. “So…pretty…”

“Thank you,” you reply, taking half his size in your mouth, and feel how he hugs your cheeks.

Wonwoo lets outs hushed whimpers, exhaling out of his nose, his fingers impulsively finger through your hair and take grip. Through his shut eyes, he can feel the nodding of your head, the vigor of your tongue, and finally the head of his cock hitting your uvula, bobbing back and forth. “S-shit, like that, yeah…”

He can feel himself physically shuddering, glancing back at the lure of your eyes as your mouth collects every inch, every vein, and moan that escapes his lips. His hand guides you, pushing you deeper around his cock and the sounds of your efforts were euphoric, especially how they were followed by Seungcheol’s work, who found himself slamming his fingers back into you like a jackhammer. You slightly jump, vibrating around Wonwoo as you cried out obscenities.

“Mmph, more, please,” you beg, bringing a smile to both Seungcheol and Mingyu’s faces.

Seungcheol used another hand to give spanks on either one of your cheeks, playing with you like a set of drums. They get tender in his grasp, making them more fun to squeeze and there’s that pleasant way your backside jerks towards him, knowing he’s doing everything right.

It was then Mingyu had an idea. While his other friends handled you their way, he had no choice but to find his own choice of sport. He pulls himself up from the couch, excited to spring back into action, and goes on to grab something from your room. He disappears as quickly as he returns, a familiar transparent squeeze bottle in his hand. He goes on a knee to your side, squeezing the cold sticky substance on your unpreoccupied hole, squirting circles around your quivering rim.

“Remember when you thought we wouldn’t use this again? Looks like now’s the time. Are you ready for that?” He asks with a Cheshire smile as he closes the cap and puts the bottle aside.

You moan a confirmation, nodding your head complacently. His chuckles are sickly sweet as he draws his lips close to your ear, teasing his digit from entering. The moment it enters you mentally prepare yourself for the sensation, know damn well you could never get used to that. Mingyu groans at how you swallow his middle digit as he churns it inside you, another hand coming against your tender cheeks. “Fucking slut. Like us filling all your holes, hmm?”

There is no way you can physically answer as you feel yourself gag as you reach your limit with Wonwoo, who at this point doesn’t hear others and uses your mouth with only the thought of getting off down your throat. You finally croak out a yes before two of Wonwoo’s hands grip your head and slam you down the base when you least expected him to. Tears run down your eyes, your cheeks hot, feeling yourself suffocated, you dig your nails into Wonwoo’s thighs, white crescents appearing on his skin.

He groans long and loud, jerking his hips as he’s dumping some of his load down your throat but pulls out from the overstimulation, having the rest shoot on your face. The translucent thick ribbons stain your cheeks and drip off your chin down to his thigh. Red face and a hot sweat beading from his forehead. Wonwoo finally collects himself enough to look back at you apologetically, visibly embarrassed.

“I’m so, so sorry, Y/n.”

Instead of letting him feel sorry for himself and you, you take Wonwoo’s hand and use it like a napkin, swiping his cum on his fingers. He’s stunned when he sees it, a quarry of your actions stuck and stopped at his throat until you take that hand and enter it in your mouth, your tongue catching his release. The man’s abdomen tense, letting your hand suck his fingers off clean and you hold them in there, filling your mouth with another body part of Wonwoo that day.

“Goddamnit, Y/n. You really can’t help yourself.” He comments blatantly lost in awe.

Your body curled up in Seungcheol’s lap helplessly, trembling, slick moisture seeping out of you at their mercy. The others can hear the anguish in your muffled voice, how close you get with fingers thrust inside you with only every passing second, only to have that ecstasy slip away as their fingers pull out. You whine in retaliation, their collective chuckles mocking you, even Wonwoo couldn’t help but find the scene amusing.

“Can’t have you cum that quickly, can we?” Seungcheol taunts.

He roughly tugs up your body until your back is toward his chest, feeling your perspiration against his torso. He shrugs off his briefs and your underwear is quick to follow, the tips of his fingers now rubbing your arousal all around your entrance, adding the slick substance to your already lubed up rim. You mewl at his fingers, your hands gripping against his forearm but lacking the willpower to have an effect. His teeth graze your eye, pulling you by the cartilage. “We’re gonna fill you out so nice, you’ll beg for more…perfect little holes for us to use…tell us what you want, princess.”

You let out a shallow breath, “I want…to feel full. I want you inside me.”

His hand lands on his cock, hard and naturally aligned at your rim, before testing Mingyu's prep work, “Good girl…feeling so perfectly tight…”

Seungcheol can’t forget how it closed around him while he takes a long gradual stroke inside. He groans loudly, filling you until your moans give out. His hands plant against the backside of your thighs to lift them and fold them against you, pushing his length in. Your eyes rapidly shake, the white of them visibly, and you welcome Seungcheol’s cock with his name on your tongue. “F-fuck yes…more Seungcheol…”

Wonwon doesn’t know what gets over him when he finds himself staring back at your glistening folds, looking at your pulsing clit like it was the last m&m. His flaccid cock now twitching upright in his lap, he licks his lips, not taking his eyes away from you. “Seungcheol spread her legs out more.”

The elder man gave a knowing smile and did as requested, and your pussy stretches open, your clit more evident than before. Soon Wonwoo has mustered the strength to put his face up to your entrance and suck on the bulging nub like a straw, watching your toes curling as soon as he does. You can feel his subtle smiles against your arousal, the curve of it pulling at your folds.

“Shit,” you whisper, throwing your head back against Seungcheol’s shoulder, panting against the man’s cheek.

“Feels good, doesn’t it?” Seungcheol teases, “You haven’t gotten enough just yet.”

Mingyu gets up from where he sits, stroking his cock in his hand. He comes to your side, the tip of his length angles at your lips, and you look up at him in anticipation. He mocks you, tapping himself against your lips. “Beg for it. Go on. Whore.”

You sigh defeatedly, “Please, Mingyu…I need your cock in my mouth…”

“Isn’t that nice? You can shut up.” He chuckles to himself.

He takes hold of your head, prodding your lips apart with the head of his cock inside, and sees how easily it slides in your mouth. You moan around his girth, as the jerk of his hips pushed himself deeper inside you. It's almost how fast it happens just as you don’t remember how it began. All you knew was it felt amazing nothing like you ever felt. You never knew you could want this–no, you never knew how much you needed this.

“Want to fuck you, Y/n? Can I?” Wonwoo asks politely against your core.

You nod with your mouth full, coughing out Mingyu’s cock given the opportunity. “Yes, Wonwoo, I want you…I want all of you…please fuck me full…”

Saying that out loud was enough of a motive to flip the script. Seungcheol, still inside, lays flat against the couch, head propped against the couch arm. Wonwoo gives Mingyu a knowing look, letting his friend go first. Mingyu scoffs, “I’m coming for you, Y/n.”

“Not yet, you are,” You retort.

“And you said I’d never get be inside you again. Things can happen.”

Mingyu lets his cock slip around your arousal before he’s reunited with your fluttering walls, a nostalgic hum leaving his lips. “Fuck, that’s good.”

“Mingyu—You both—ah fuck, feels so g-good…”

Mingyu and Seungcheol carry a mismatched pace, their uneven breaths fill the air as you take it, take them. Your voice sounds of agony but rather the opposite, you couldn’t feel more bliss. Wonwoo mentally and physically readies himself, his cock almost back to full power. He joins the party when he feels the fire in him, thanking himself for getting a big enough couch, and hovering on top of you.

You hadn’t noticed it before but something was missing from the man joining, and not his clothing. “Your g-glasses…”

“Ah,” he smiles, “put them aside, didn’t want them to break.”

“Hmm, it’s n-nice looking you in the e-eyes for o-once.”

“I’ll make sure to make it happen more often…Tell me if I’m hurting you. If any of us do.”

You hum a yes, finding his lips reattach to yours soon after. Wonwoo gives himself one last stroke before its mere centimeters away from Mingyu’s, finding the right angle to join his friend. It’s not an easy feat sharing space, but he finds a way, pushing through to stretch you wide and open, collective moans coming from all ends.

“Holy shit,” you screech, “so many c-cocks…”

“You’re taking us so too, Princess. I knew you could do it,” Seungcheol exclaims.

Mingyu was getting a thrill out of this, “Of course she can, Y/n is a bigger dirty slut than she makes herself out to be. She enjoys it, hmm? Say it.”

“I en—love it. I love the cocks in me so much…”

“Shit, you’re so pretty for that,” Wonwoo claims on your neck, pounding now faster, “say that again for us please.”

“I love your cocks fucking me…fucking my pussy and ass…”

Mingyu missed how you gave your everything during sex, groaning louder and louder the tighter you try to clench, how closer he realizes he’s getting. “She’ll say anything to cum…don’t let her.”

Mingyu’s hand comes up from behind Wonwoo to slap your clit, pinching to hear you whine. “You cum too soon, we’ll just fuck you over and over again. I want white to cover every inch of your body, clear?”

“Y-yes…sir…”

“Perfect little whore.”

You feel the rutting in and out of you like clockwork, overwhelmed by all the different energies your body accepts. Your moans, your screams, or your tears could never tell the full story of the euphoria of your feeling. Your arms embrace Wonwoo, latching on his hair and face, kissing him on his swollen lips, and feeling hot to the point you could confuse it for inferno, or that you were part of inferno yourself.

Seungcheol swallows back his drool, blind in ecstasy flowing through him and now reaching up to the surface. His fingers dig deeper into your thighs and the sounds of skin slapping drown out his moans. Seungcheol clutches you against him as he whispers, “you okay with me cumming in your ass princess, hmm, is that what you want?”

“Yes,” You answer in a hushed tone, “please I want you to cum in my ass…”

You feel his relieved sighs on your neck, slamming his body into you harder. You’re stretched like elastic, wearing down at their rough touch, until Seungcheol does as promised, squeezing his load and shooting it up in gradually staggering pumps until he’s empty and drops his rubber covered cock out to drip back onto the fabric of the couch.

That had been your final straw, feeling your climax erupt only immediately after Seungcheol. “I’m cumming, I’m cumming, I’m cumming…”

Wonwoo kisses your cheek in response but doesn’t stop. Mingyu on the other hand slaps against your clit harder repeatedly, reveling in the wretched noise you make. “Cum all you want…we'll take it…like you’re gonna keep taking us.”

Wonwoo grunts alone by himself, Holding you against him like it's the last, helping Mingyu keep his word and fuck you senseless. He was a good friend, he was good at helping his friends. That friendly nature makes you weak to the sensitivity after, whining under their touch, shaking on top of Seungcheol, as he tenderly fondles your breasts in his rest. It feels endless, not like you’re complaining, but a somewhat bit of relief is obvious when both of the remaining men cum in you simultaneously. Friends that cum together, stay together, you guess.

“You gonna take our cum?” Mingyu pokes, his cock ruts in you like a man with no control.

“Y-yes.” You choke out.

“Yes, what?”

“Yes, yes, I can take your cum, please. Please. Cum in my pussy, I need your loads in me.”

“Wait condoms? You guys aren’t wearing any?” Seungcheol voiced out.

Wonwoo shakes his head as Mingyu aguishly blurts out a “no.”

“Aw, fuck you guys.”

“Mmp, mmph,” that was the sound of Wonwoo biting into your shoulder, his sweet white dispersing into you perfectly with Mingyu to follow. Ther loads meshed well together like they do, becoming one with your climax, dripping out of your brim like oozing honey: sweet, creamy, sticky. The perfect symphony to showcase the perfect vessel, capable of catching their cum.

“Shit, shit, shit, shit, shit—”

Mingyu moans out his climax just as you remember, just as voluminous and rich. He’d laugh if he knew how much you would think about hearing it again. Your tired bodies part from each other, panting loudly inches away from each other, staring mindlessly into the space in front of them. You were the particularly spent and Wonwoo, the first to notice and care, picks up by your knees and carries you, fulfilling his duties as your designated roommate. “You’re okay, right?”

“Mm, I’m good, Woo.” you softly respond in his arms, you turn to the other two men fatigued on the couch, “I’m taking a shower first, assholes. Only Wonwoo can join.”

Wonwoo smiles with a blush on his cheeks, while the others roll their eyes.

“What? Why only Wonwoo?” Seungcheol questions.

“He treated me nicer. Think about it the next time we all fuck.”

Wonwoo looks back at you with a surprised look before taking you away to the bathroom. You leave Mingyu and Seungcheol to look back at each other, pondering on your response, taking all the world, space, and time to process your words.

Simultaneously. “Next time?”

4K notes · View notes

personasintro · 8 months

Text

Mutual Help | #01

↳ 𝐬𝐲𝐧𝐨𝐩𝐬𝐢𝐬; in order for you to pretend to be his girlfriend, he helps you with your sexual desires ⏤ he calls it mutual help

⇢ 𝐩𝐚𝐢𝐫𝐢𝐧𝐠: jungkook x reader

⇢ 𝐠𝐞𝐧𝐫𝐞: fake dating au, fluff, angst, smut, slow burn

⇢ 𝐰𝐚𝐫𝐧𝐢𝐧𝐠𝐬: explicit language

⇢ 𝐰𝐨𝐫𝐝 𝐜𝐨𝐮𝐧𝐭: 3.4k+

𝐚/𝐧: this bombass comeback wouldn't be as amazing and special if it weren't for @kithtaehyung who made the best new mh banner anyone could ever make!!! ryen, thank you bub so much for putting up with my indecisive ass and taking the time to make not only this banner but different versions before that! I truly appreciate it and I'm thankful you're a part of this!!

ogs know this one is reposted but I hope everyone will enjoy it whether they're rereading it or reading for the first time! lastly, thank you for the endless love and support, i love y'all ♡

𝐢𝐧𝐝𝐞𝐱 | 𝐧𝐞𝐱𝐭 ⇢

The hallway looks exactly the same, which there isn't any reason why it should look different all of a sudden, but considering you haven't been in this building for the past few weeks just makes you want to notice the slightest change. But there is none. It still smells sterile with a little bit of sweetness which reminds you of cinnamon. You're not sure why, nor do you really dwell on it too much.

You could imagine your Thursday evening differently, which means laying down as soon as you come home and turn on Netflix, trying to spend at least twenty minutes finding a good show. That's been your routine for weeks now, but you're not complaining. It feels that void of loneliness in your smart one bedroom apartment.

Although, you can't help but feel nervous when you picture the message you got from Jimin.

'come to Jungkook's, he needs us'

He never explained anything further, nor replied to the tons of your messages or missed calls. You wouldn't be on the edge, if you've seen or heard from Jungkook. Apart from some occasional messages like 'what's up' or 'what were you doing today?', your communication went downhill. But you don't blame him or yourself for it. You were both busy and probably still are, to even hangout like you always used to.

It bothered you for some time, not hanging out with your best friend like you used to. But you've grown used to that small but painful fact that you don't have to see each other every day. Plus, after some time you've realized, you can still be best friends with someone without having to chat with them 24/7. Gratefulness is how you'd describe your feelings. Grateful that your friendship works, even though you don't get to spend your time with each other that often.

Your knuckles meet the wood of Jungkook's front door in a gentle manner, which is a complete opposite of your inside feelings as you've this weird feeling inside of you. The message Jimin sent you was weird and you haven't heard from anyone since then.

And when the door finally opens, you're glad you're met with Jimin himself as he stares at you with hopeful eyes and a breath of relief that escapes his plush lips. You rush inside, already taking off your shoes and jacket while you confusingly stare at your friend that looks more than relieved to see you.

"What the hell happened? You never texted me back." you tell him, or more like scold him rather than properly greet him.

"Ah, sorry," he cringes, pulling out his phone before he notices the bunch of messages and missed calls from you. "It's just—"

"This is bullshit."

The grumpy and raspy voice unintentionally cuts him off, booming inside of the apartment causing your ears to naturally perk up. Is it just you or his voice got deeper? You look at Jimin with a questioning gaze, who sees the confusion on your features as you hear Jungkook's grumpy and annoyed voice. Rather than explaining something to you, he sighs and with a quick cock of his head towards the living room, you both walk inside.

You're surprised when you see Taehyung there as well, opening a beer can before he pushes it into Jungkook's hands. Surprisingly, the mentioned guy is slouched on his beige couch, wearing one of his baggy shirts and loose sweatpants with his hair looking like he hasn't brushed them for days.

Taehyung's eyes meet yours as soon as you step in, noticing the mess around including two pizza boxes thrown on the floor and empty cans of coke and beer on the coffee table. "Oh, thank god!" Taehyung breathes out the same sigh of relief, causing you to greet him with a confused 'hello'.

Although, you don't wait for any reaction because your best friend finally acknowledges your presence in his home, head lazily turning in your direction as you walk up to him.

"Great," he mutters, almost rolling eyes at the sight of you. "Who called her?" he eyes the two of his best friends, scoffing before he takes a gulp of the beer that Taehyung handed him.

"What kind of reaction is that, asshole?" you react right away, frowning at your best friend that hasn't seen you for weeks and this is his first reaction.

"Don't mind him, please. He's just a little bit drunk right now." Jimin quickly jumps into an action, noticing your fireback and unappreciative tone that's aimed at none other than Jungkook himself.

He rolls his eyes at Jimin words, but doesn't say anything else before Taehyung watches you with cautious doe eyes. He sits in a chair, arm leaned against his knee as he anxiously bites his nails even though he tries to act casual. You don't buy it.

"What the fuck is going on?" you ask them, pointing towards Jungkook that looks like a truck just hit him.

Jimin opens his mouth, but Jungkook glares at him which ends up with him shutting it right away and when you look at Taehyung, he doesn't even spare you a glance.

"Which one of you called her?" Jungkook speaks up, eyeing the two of his friends as they point to each other causing you to snort. Cowards. "I'm fine. I don't see a reason why you make such a big deal out of this. I'm fine."

The fact that he had to repeat the same sentence twice, just proves that no — he's not fine. And before the wheels in your head start to work and roll, Jimin's voice speaks up in a clear, yet quick tempo.

"Kiko broke up with Jungkook."

The room goes silent, faint sounds coming out of the television are filling out the thick silence in the room as Jungkook freezes, not even glaring at his friend that apologetically shrugs at him.

One of the reasons why you haven't got to see your best friend that often is, that he simply found a girlfriend. Trying to combine his work, personal love life and you was already hard. But you get it. You're not mad or annoyed at him, because the two of you still kept in touch. It was just a matter of time until some of you found someone and naturally, there wouldn't be that much time to spend your days together. It was bound to happen and you knew Jungkook would be the first one to find someone.

He's your best friend, but you're not blind. He's one of the most handsome guys you've ever met, not just that but his personality is something that most girls would fall for. His attitude is pissy right now and now, you know the true reason behind it. But the Jungkook you know, is one of the most caring people you know. And not only that, but he's funny, intelligent and perfect at almost everything. He's the whole package and any girl would be lucky to snatch him.

And that girl, or perhaps you should say a woman, happened to be Kiko. A Japanese beauty that their mutual friend introduced them to one another. It clicked off immediately. Even you've noticed it when Jungkook Rain checked almost every plan you had together. He started to stare into his phone with all those puppy heart eyes whenever she texted him. At first, you found it annoying because it was just plain rude, watching him text her every five seconds instead of trying to hang out with you. But then, you just stopped caring and whenever you went silent, he'd just pushed his phone away and tried to gain your attention.

It was stupid, because you knew if you gave him attitude or silent treatment, he would just feel bad and tried to focus on you. Until the both of you stopped hanging out with each other that much.

"She did?" you mutter, staring at Jungkook who stares in front of him with a wiped out gaze. You've never seen him in this kind of state. "I'm sorry, Kook."

"Yeah, well, shit happens." he grumbles, clenching his jaw as he takes another gulp of beer that's securely clenched in his hand.

You've seen Jungkook having a couple of girlfriends, but you know that his relationship with Kiko was different. He wasn't just any girlfriend that he tried to get to know, she was someone that he completely fell for and couldn't stop talking about. He's in love. And even though he's being an ass to his friends right now, it's just his coping mechanism and you know that whatever Jimin and Taehyung has been doing, hasn't helped much. He plays tough right now, hiding his true feelings under this cold and uninterested facade but you know him better.

And when he keeps glancing at you before he quickly looks away, it's almost as if he can hear your exact thoughts.

"Well," you hastily speak, clapping your hands together as you lightly smile at everyone in the room. "You don't wanna date anyone whose name is Kiko." you try to joke, a laugh and snort erupting from Jimin and Taehyung who has obviously found your little joke funny.

Jungkook on the other hand, looks even more pissed off because he never looked at you with so much anger and annoyance as he's looking right now, causing you to squirm in your spot. "Real class, Y/N." he barks at you, causing you to slump in defeat before Jimin squeezes your shoulders in comfort.

"I brought you banana milk. I didn't know what happened, so I thought this would be a nice and quick save." you lightly tell him, sitting at the end of the couch, next to his sprawled legs but he doesn't move them away.

"Jeez, I'm not some fucking kid. Banana milk won't fix my broken heart." he scoffs, shaking his head while the three of you are even surprised that he just admitted that he has a broken heart. Well, clearly but since he's been putting up this tough act, it still comes as a shock. Judging by the look of Jimin's and Taehyung's face, they seem to think the same thing.

"I know that, Kook," you quietly tell him, hastily grabbing one of his ankles as you squeeze it in a manner to comfort him. He doesn't budge, that means something. "Is there anything we can do for you?" you ask him, not really sure if he's even going to answer that.

His brows furrow while he fumbles with his fingers, the slightest pout adoring his small lips as he thinks your question through. The three of you watch him with curious eyes, wondering what the hell is this guy thinking of. He looks at you, then at Jimin and Taehyung before he softly sighs.

"I mean... there's nothing you guys can do." he says softly, taking another gulp of beer that tastes like piss. Korean beer is just not good, and you're surprised that Jungkook even drinks it. But he never had any problem with any alcohol, that man can drink and eat anything.

There's nothing you can think of that could possibly help him out of his heartbreak. The only thing for you to do, is to be there for him. And if drinking a beer that tastes like piss is some kind of twisted way of helping him, you're in. So, you reach out and grab one of the unopened cans before you open it with a loud 'click', taking a gulp of it.

"What are you doing?" Jungkook sits up, staring at your scrunched nose and distaste written all over your face.

"Drinking with you." you shrug, taking another huge gulp of it. The more you drink it, the less it tastes awful.

"But you hate this beer." he reminds you, scowling at you and your nonstop gulping, hand twitching to get it away from you.

"I know," you shrug, grinning at him. "It doesn't taste that bad. Now come on," you nudge him with your leg, raising your can to him. "Cheers." you call out to him, ignoring his big doe eyes that stare at you with a slight confusion before he sighs.

"Cheers." he mutters, clicking his can against yours before the both of you take another gulp.

The two of you are completely unaware of your friends' faces that are washed with relief and knowing eyes as they stare at you and Jungkook. All it took was just to call you to save the day. Jungkook might not be in his greatest mood or show his appreciation for you to be there for him, but drinking without constant complaining and cursing is still a better result that Jimin and Taehyung managed to get.

"I've never thought I'd ever drink this much of this piss beer." you croak out, putting another empty can onto Jungkook's messy coffee table. You sit back, head falling onto his shoulder as you silently inhale his scent. It always reminded you of his fabric softener that smells like a baby, mixed with his cologne that is very faint on his clothes.

"How do you know what piss tastes like?" Jungkook asks, raising his brow at you while the corner of his lips twitches in amusement. "Do you wanna tell me about your weird kinks?" he cocks his head at you, causing you to groan as you hit his shoulder but it does nothing to him, he doesn't even budge.

A chuckle roars in the back of his throat, a first sound that can be considered as a positive emotion.

"It's not like that." you mutter, growing embarrassed at the thought of Jungkook thinking about your kinks. Not that you know about them that much. You might think there are some things you might like, but you never had anyone to try it with. How possibly could you know? But the idea of you having a piss kink, or whatever that's called, makes you want to gag. Maybe it's the beer or just a single thought of it, who knows.

Jimin and Taehyung already left, once they saw Jungkook loosening up, they took that chance to go home and leave the two of you alone. Not even once he talked about his heartbreak, you silently watched a TV show that Jungkook turned on whilst drinking a beer and munching on some crackers that Taehyung handed you before they left.

Glancing at Jungkook, his face is illuminated from the screen whilst he's watching a TV show with slightly furrowed brows. And when it finally stops, he sighs and grabs the remote to browse through some other movies and TV shows. He keeps browsing through them for a couple of minutes, muttering a pair of curses when he can't find anything he likes. You turn on the lamp in the very corner of his living room, causing him to frown even more from the sudden light.

You sit next to him, staring at him as he sighs and looks back at you. "What?" he asks unbothered, the remote still clutched in his hand.

"I'm sorry, Kook," you tell him silently, reaching for his shoulder which you squeeze in comfort, like you previously did with his ankle. "I know that you loved her."

And you see his facade crack, when he sucks his bottom lip as he quickly looks away from you to blink away the tears that are threatening to fall. You've never seen him this vulnerable.

"Love," he mutters, causing you to let out a confused 'huh?' in response. "Not loved her, but love. I still love her." he corrects you.

"Why did she break up with you? You don't have to tell me if you don't feel comfortable enough, but you guys seemed so close together."

It doesn't make any sense. Jungkook kept talking about her even through your messages, and you could practically feel the happiness radiating from his single messages. His whole Instagram is filled with their pictures, or just single shots of Kiko that Jungkook has taken and captioned with a single heart emoji. You've never seen him being so in love before. That's when you've realized that Kiko is different from any other women that Jungkook was seeing.

You don't push him into answering, the last thing you want for him is to get upset with you. But you can't keep walking around eggshells for this whole night.

"Apparently, she just wants some time for herself. She wants to explore other things, whatever the fuck that means." he bitterly chuckles, eyes filled with anger but you know it's just hidden hurt.

"Maybe you'll find someone else, Kook. You're still young."

Scoffing, he shakes his head. "She's the love of my life. I really doubt there's someone else for me. I was about to ask her to move in with me."

Shit, he's really serious about her.

"You did?"

He nods, biting onto his lower lip before he lets it go, fumbling his eyes before he sighs in defeat. "I love her." he whispers, his voice sounding so vulnerable that it makes your heart clench.

You go straight into hugging him, enveloping his huge body to yours as he starts to cry into your chest. For the first time, he finally breaks in front of someone else rather than himself. He clutches to your body, tears wetting your shirt but you don't mind it, grabbing him even tighter. He cries, something he doesn't usually do in front of everyone. You realize how he kept holding himself in front of Taehyung and Jimin when all he wanted was to cry it out.

"It's okay, you're going to be okay." you tell him, cheeks pressed against his hair that got super long since you've last seen him.

He sniffles, wiping his eyes before he slightly pulls away. "It happened two weeks ago and I'm still such a fucking mess." he scoffs at himself.

"Two weeks ago?" you exclaim, surprised by the new information. "It happened two weeks ago and I know just... now?"

He glares at you and you quickly shut your mouth. "Not everything is about you, Y/N." he reminds you.

Rolling your eyes, you're about to curse at him for being so rude but then you remember his state. He's just hurt and in a way, he's right. "No, that's not what I meant. I just... I'm surprised that you didn't tell me sooner. If it weren't for Jimin, I don't think I'd be here right now." you explain, thinking about all possibilities that could happen.

"I was going to," he mutters, reaching for a bottle of water instead as he takes a few gulps. "But I needed some time to myself. I didn't want anyone to see me like this." he points out towards his slightly puffed eyes.

You just wished he'd tell you sooner. But you don't tell him that. It's not selfish to think that, because you just wanted to be there for him sooner. Nobody should go through such a heartbreak alone. Not when he has you and other two friends willing to be there for him.

"You know that you can tell me anything, right? I'm always here for you." you remind him, flushed cheeks when you see his eyes already set on you.

The friendship between you and Jungkook is mostly surrounded with you teasing each other and in a way, he's like an older brother to you. You don't get all sentimental with each other, even though you're always there for one another. It's an unspoken rule and natural feeling that your friendship has.

"I know," he says softly, giving you the best little smile he can muster. "And I'm so grateful for that. I know I was acting like an asshole and I'm sorry, I just... I'm really happy that you're here."

You don't get to hear such words often, especially coming out of Jungkook's mouth, but that's why you're even more pleased to hear them.

You smile back at him, silently thanking him and also saying that it's okay and you get it. It's quiet for a moment. Jungkook fumbles with his fingers as you silently watch him, noticing a few new tattoos that decorate his honey skin.

"Y/N?" he asks suddenly, causing you to hum in return. " You know when you asked me, if there's something you could do for me?"

"Oh, boy. What is it this time?" you joke, causing him to silently chuckle under his breath.

What could he possibly want to know? The last time he wanted something from you, was to clean his whole apartment because he twisted his ankle. But whatever that comes out of his mouth next, never occurred to you before.

"Can you pretend to be my girlfriend?"

#networkbangtan #ksmutclub #ficswithluv #btswritingcafe #bts smut #jungkook x reader #bts fluff #bts angst #bts au #jungkook smut #jungkook fic #mutual help

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nicoline1998enilocin · 2 months

Text

Cuddle bug

PAIRING | Boyfriend!Steve Rogers x Girlfriend!Fem!Reader

WORD COUNT | ~ 900 words

SUMMARY | Steve comes home from a long mission, and all he wants is to be cuddled up in bed with his favorite person. However, your shared secret threatens to be spilled when your good friend walks in the door and finds the two of you in bed together.

RATING | Teen (T)

WARNINGS/TAGS | Established (secret) relationship, use of nickname (Doll).

A/N | This little drabble is written based on a request I received from a sweet Anon! As soon as I saw this prompt, I couldn't resist writing a little something, so I hope you will all enjoy it! This is proofread by the amazing @ccbsrmsf1, for which I'm forever grateful. I love you 🩷

Banners: Yours truly | Divider: @firefly-graphics | GIF: Source

Main Masterlist | Steve Rogers Masterlist

Steve has been away on an extended mission—three and a half weeks and counting—and you're missing him more than ever. The two of you started dating only a few months ago, though it mainly takes place behind closed doors. You cannot get enough of one another whenever you are alone. Still, when other people are around, it is strictly professional—apart from the occasional reassuring smile you give one another.

Within the Avengers, there is no opposition to team members dating. Still, Steve has specifically asked to keep your relationship a secret because he wants to explore the connection between you two. It is the perfect way to get to know each other personally, and the last few months have been amazing because of that.

Now, you find yourself in your bedroom, curled up in your comfiest armchair with a good book and Alpine beside you. Since Bucky is on the same mission as Steve, you have taken over her care, and she's purring away in her sleep on the windowsill, enjoying the warm spring sun.

Just as you're about to finish your chapter, you hear a knock on your door, and you look up, expecting Natasha or maybe Tony to come by, but when you see who walks in the door, you smile brightly. Steve is back from his mission.

"Hi, Doll. I missed you," he tells you as he walks into the room, and your book lies abandoned in your chair. He's still wearing his suit and the shield on his back, letting you know he came to visit you right away, and it makes the butterflies in your stomach go wild.

"Steve, you're back already! I thought you would be gone for another few days!" Your arms are wrapped around his waist as you plaster yourself against his chest. His heartbeat thumps against your cheek as he gives you soft kisses on the top of your head. His hands rub soothingly over your back as he inhales your sweet scent.

"Mission got wrapped up early, so I figured I'd come home to my girl as soon as possible," Steve says. You lift your head to meet his gaze, warmth spreading through your cheeks as he calls you his girl.

"I love it when you call me your girl; it makes me feel special," you say shyly, and Steve can't help but chuckle.

"I'm glad because I cannot stop calling you that," he tells you before kissing you in a sweet, soft kiss. You two take your time to bask in one another's familiarity, but he pulls away when he can feel a shiver run down your spine.

"I think it's time we had some cuddles, Doll. You're shivering," he whispers, and you nod.

"That sounds good. You know I can't warm up properly with you there," you tell him, and he smiles knowingly. Before you know it, Steve has put down the shield, and his suit is folded neatly on top. As he bends down to put his boots away as well, you happen to glance over, and you're met with the glorious sight of Steve's butt being wrapped perfectly by his light blue boxer briefs, highlighting it beautifully.

"Hmm, so that is America's ass," you say jokingly. You have seen it clothed and bare countless times, but you still can't help saying it. The bright red flush covering Steve's cheeks has you smiling wide, and you can't get enough of the sight.

You have also taken your clothes off, being left in your underwear as you crawl under the covers with Steve. Due to the super soldier serum, his body temperature is always warmer than a regular person's, so he makes a perfect cuddle companion during the nights and colder months.

"Welcome back, Steve. I missed you and your warmth so much," you whisper when you're lying in his arms, your leg thrown over his, his arm wrapped around you, and your head on his chest. The comforter is pulled up to your chin, and you're just about to fall asleep when you hear a few knocks on your door.

"Y/N? I'm here to pick up Alpine!" you hear Bucky's voice carry through the door before he swings it open, and you immediately sit upright in the bed, clutching the comforter to your chest, leaving Steve exposed in the bed in the process.

"B-Bucky, hi!" you say as embarrassment floods your body that you're caught in bed with your boyfriend. Bucky's face turns bright red as he looks at the two of you, his mouth opening and closing without words as he tries to understand what's happening. Without saying another word, he turns around and closes the door behind him, leaving you two to wonder what just happened.

"I should go talk to him, Doll," Steve says as he leans in for a kiss, which you happily give him.

"Okay, but only if you promise to come back soon. I can't miss you for too long again!" you tell him, and he nods with a smile before jumping into his pants. The rest of his suit and his shield are left behind as he runs after Bucky to explain what is going on between you two.

While you were embarrassed at first, you're also a little relieved that you can finally share the love between you two with someone. This is going to be the first step to telling everyone about your relationship, too. It won't be long before you don't have to carry this secret around anymore, and you're looking forward to that day finally being here.

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harunayuuka2060 · 3 months

Text

MC: *after seeing Vil came to visit again*

MC: Rook, go to Mr. Schoenheit's table and assist him for this entire evening.

Rook: *smiles* Non.

MC: ...

MC: Rook, you are my trainee. You can't just say no. Unless you have a reasonable excuse.

Rook: Ami masqué, you've instructed me on the importance of not abandoning my customers, as I serve as their concierge.

MC: ...

MC: Yes. You are right about that. Well then, please provide your best service to our patrons, Rook.

Rook: Oui! *then takes his leave to take care of his customers*

MC: ...

MC: *proceeds to approach Vil's table*

MC: Hello, Vil. What can I do for you today?

Vil: The usual.

MC: Unfortunately, I can't make you a plushie today because our new hire had used up all of our materials for it.

Vil: That's not what I'm referring to.

MC: I don't think there's anything that we can talk to since our issue has been resolved.

Vil: It's fine if our conversation turns out to be nonsensical. I just want to chat with you.

MC: ...

MC: How has been work lately?

Vil: *his head resting on their shoulder* It's great. I have been receiving a lot of offers and because of that, my schedule is as tight as ever.

MC: I'm glad that you're enjoying it. Though it would be better for you to go home and take some rest now.

MC: You, of all people, knows that it's bad for the skin to stay up late at night.

Vil: Yes. But I'm sure you know the reason why I still come here.

MC: Again, there are far better candidates for the job, Vil. Anyone would be grateful to work for you.

Vil: Then be that person.

MC: No. *chuckles* I have no right to be even in the same space as you.

Vil: ...

Vil: I thought that issue has been resolved.

Vil: Why are you trying so hard to avoid me?

MC: ...

MC: It's a personal problem. Don't worry. It has no relation to what happened before.

Vil: ...I see. And I'm afraid you will continue to see me in this nightclub.

MC: ...

MC: I'll take you home now, Vil.

Vil: *looks displeased but accepted the offer*

MC: *carried Vil to his room because he was quite exhausted from the car ride*

MC: *lays him gently in his bed*

Vil: I need to change clothes.

MC: I'll take care of that. Just rest, Vil.

Vil: *nods and lets them do their work*

MC: *proceeds to assist Vil in changing to his night robe and prepares for his beauty sleep routine*

MC: *after an hour of ensuring that everything is done right*

Vil: *fell asleep comfortably in his bed*'

MC: *lets out a sigh of relief*

MC: Good night, Vil.

MC: *is about to leave his room when the door suddenly cracks open*

The stranger and MC: *both getting startled*

The stranger: *immediately pulls out a knife*

MC: ...

MC: *calmly charges at the burglar* *locking the door behind them*

Vil: *woke up feeling refreshed*

Vil: As expected from them.

Vil: *got up and checks his phone to see if he has any messages*

Vil: Hm. A text from Rook. *opens it*

'Roi du Poison! Something happened! *then included an attached photo of MC having their arm bandaged*'

Vil: *his eyes widened*

Vil: 'What happened? How did they get injured?!'

Rook: 'They wouldn't tell. In fact, they didn't want you to know, but I couldn't help myself.'

Rook: 'Did nothing happen while they were at your house?'

Vil: *frowns in confusion*

Vil: ...

Vil: 'No. I should've known if there was.'

Rook: 'In that case, they might've gotten into an accident on their way here.'

Vil: ...

Vil: But MC has never been careless on the road...

#twisted wonderland #twst mc #twst vil #twst rook #twst vil and mc series 1

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moonstruckme · 8 months

Note

hi okay hi you’ve probably seen me in your notifications for the last twenty minutes because i am absolutely obsessed with the way you write poly!marauders.

i was wondering if you could write something about the (fem)reader who slowly starts dissociating when things get tough and she’s not really present and while they’re concerned, they just show their love for her through caring until she comes back to herself. it’s completely okay if you can’t!!!

Thanks honey, I'm so glad you enjoy my blog! Love the pfp btw, I personally think that was Spence’s best hair. I know everyone experiences dissociation differently so I did some research and I hope this is alright! Many apologies if it’s not accurate

cw: dissociation, brief mention of sexual assault

poly!marauders x fem!reader ♡ 910 words

You’re grateful to Sirius for defending you. You are, but the man’s hand on your ass had caused some deer-in-the-headlights glitch in your brain, and the yelling that ensued only made you retreat further into yourself. You know, distantly, that it’s Sirius’ voice, and that he’s yelling for you, not at you. But it’s all noise to you, a ruckus that means danger, and then there’s movement, and more hands, and everything that would be too much if you weren’t so far away.

You feel like you’re sitting at the bottom of a swimming pool, everything above the surface of the water muffled and distorted. What happens up there doesn’t concern you. It’s peaceful down here, even if there is a certain wrongness to it. You know you don’t belong here, not really, but you can hold your breath and try to make it last.

“Baby?” a voice says. “Hey, you okay?”

“Don’t shake her, that’s not going to help.” You can’t tell if it’s another voice or the same. The comfort it brings you doesn't change, and you can’t force yourself to care either way. You can’t care at all, really, about anything. You wonder if you should be worried about that, but feelings are something out of your reach, and maybe it’s better that way.

“Something’s wrong with her.”

“I can see that, love. We’re almost home.”

“You don’t think she’s hurt, do you?”

More hands. You want to flinch away, but it’s like you’re moving through a thick sludge. “You’re alright, dove, I’m just checking that you’re okay. Do you hurt anywhere?”

“Why isn’t she talking?”

“I don’t know. I think…maybe she’s just overwhelmed. I don’t think she’s bleeding anywhere.”

“Fuck. Shit, is this a panic attack? Do you think she needs a doctor or something?”

“Let’s just give her a few minutes.”

There’s more talking, but you give up on trying to decipher it. After a while, something cushy comes up underneath you, or maybe you go down onto it. Your hand is warm, and then it’s pressed to soft fabric. “Feel my heart going in there, baby? Can you focus on that for me?”

You’ve made such a cozy home for yourself in your head that it takes you some time to realize everything around you has gone quiet. There’s a persistent bumping at your palm.

“Don’t tight hugs help with panic attacks?”

“We don’t know if that’s what this is. What if it scares her?”

“Hey, angel, can you hear me? Come back to us.”

The wrongness of where you are is starting to set in, the voices at the surface louder and more insistent. You think that maybe your chest is starting to ache.

Something moves your feet, and then you're touching something interesting. Soft and a bit rough, familiar. Carpet.

“Breathe, honey. Good. Again. We’ve got you, take your time.”

You’re conscious of your breaths first, the effort it takes to fill and empty your lungs. Then the plush material under your thighs; you’re sitting on something. Awhile longer, and you realize you’re blinking, your eyes intermittently dry and then not. Eventually you register your hand, pressed to a beating heart. Sirius’ heart.

You don't try to speak yet as you take in your surroundings. You’re home, on the couch, and someone’s taken off your socks and shoes, your feet bare on the carpet. You don’t know how any of that happened, which is unsettling, but the realization that you can feel unsettled comes with a sharp relief.

Sirius’ finger swipes over your wrist where he’s gripping your hand to his chest, and your next exhale is shaky.

“Dove?” Remus’ tone is cautious.

“Sorry,” you say croakily. “I don’t know what that was.”

Sirius sighs, letting your hand drop from his chest, and Remus grips your ankle from where he sits by your feet, stroking his thumb over your achilles’ tendon in a way that you suspect is as much for him as it is for you.

“Fucking scary, is what it was,” James says, voice thick with tears. “Can I hug you?”

You nod, and his arms come around you with his usual eagerness, though you notice his hands trembling just a little. You squeeze his shoulders tightly.

“I’m really sorry.”

“Hey, no sorries, okay?” Sirius says, though even he sounds exhausted from what you’ve just put them through. “You obviously couldn’t help it. Do you feel alright now?”

“Yeah,” you say, though you’re unsure. You feel relatively normal at the moment, but the knowledge that you can slip into numbness that easily doesn’t allow for much comfort. “I’m just…really tired, for some reason.”

Remus hums. “I think your brain was doing a lot of work just now. Makes sense you’d need a rest.”

James releases you from the hug but only sits back far enough to see your face, his hands lingering at your waist like he’s worried you’ll slip away if he lets go. “Want to cancel dinner and have a night in, sweetheart?”

You nod, your throat closing as warmth rushes to your face. “Yes, please.”

“Hey,” Sirius says at your tears, voice lightly chiding but full of concern, “what’s wrong? You sure you’re feeling okay?”

“I’m okay,” you promise, swiping under your eyes. “Just, thank you guys for helping me. That was really scary.”

“I know,” Remus says, palm sliding up your leg as he rises to give you a hug of his own. “I know it was, honey, but you don’t have to worry. We’ve always got you.”

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chiriwritesstuff · 5 months

Text

The Girl in IT - 1. The Night Shift

A Boss! Joel Miller x IT Specialist F! Reader AU

Chapter Rating: E (18+, MDNI)

Chapter Preview: "Well, it was a virus, and as I looked into the problem, I had to explore every avenue to ensure I pinpointed the issue, you know, for my report to Tess. I went into your history to see if it might have been a site that caused you to have the virus. I may have casually peeked into a few files to ensure they weren’t corrupted…” you admit, “…and I might have stumbled upon-" your eyebrows raise in embarrassment, "Something personal." “Something personal?” He questions, his brows furrowed in confusion. “I don’t have anything personal… oh, shit.” His eyes widen as the realization dawns on him, hands covering his face as he groans in embarrassment. "Look, about my internet history... and the list-" You slowly nod and bite your lip, mostly to hide your own embarrassment. “… yeah. Um, it was quite... informative about your... sexual preferences.”

Chapter Warnings and Tags: No Outbreak! Joel Miller, Mentions of intended smut towards the reader, Boss x Employee Relationship, Virgin Reader, All of the yearning, Joel Miller is a silly flirt, A small-ish age gap, Joel is too forward for his own good, Tess is a boss (and should not be fucked with - or you get the horns).

Word Count: 5.6K

A/N: Well, hello there!

I honestly have no idea where this idea of a (somewhat crack) fic came from, but I had an idea and I ran with it! A lot of the character development came from my own anxieties of feeling behind in life, and if you feel that way too, I feel you! Don't worry, I promise it won't always feel like this. Time is just that- time, and it's never too late to follow your dreams! I believe in you!

To: [email protected]

Fr: [email protected]

Subject: I think I have a Virus?

12:50 AM (10 min ago)

Hey Sugar,

I know it's late, but my computer fritzed out an hour ago (a shit ton of pop-ups) and I have that presentation with The H Hotel tomorrow morning. Well, do you think you could do me a solid and help me... not have any more of those darn pop-ups? I called the number that popped up asking if I needed assistance with the virus and they asked for my credit card information but they haven't replied back.

Shit, was that a scam? Fuck. I should call Amex.

Anyway, do you think you can help me get out of this bind, Sugar? I'll be forever and eternally grateful. If you don't, well... I'm sure Tess will rip me a new one, and I would like to not have a Servopoulos-level meltdown at 9 in the morning. Not after last time. Sorry about having to be a part of that, Sugar. At least Maria was able to pay for your dry cleaning and get you a new shirt? You should have let me check your chest for burns, I sure as hell wouldn't want scalding hot coffee being thrown in my direction either. Shit. Not check your chest as in checking out your... breasts, just the burn site. Yeah. That's what I meant.

(Also, sorry for emailing you last minute. Shit. I'm desperate, baby.)

Thanks,

Joel Miller

Owner and CEO, Miller Construction Group

(512) 123-4567

To:[email protected]

Fr: [email protected]

Subject: RE: I think I have a Virus?

1 AM (0 seconds ago)

Good Evening Mr. Miller,

I got your request and will work on it shortly. I can't make any promises, but I will try to get you out of your "bind".

Don't worry about that thing with Tess. She was rightfully upset, and I just so happened to be caught in the line of fire. If it had to be one of us, I am glad it was me being pelted with boiling hot coffee, and not you in front of your clients. You didn't have to have Maria buy me a blouse from Neiman Marcus, nothing a little tide-to-go can't fix, right? Also, I knew what you meant about my chest, and I didn't think you wanted to look at my... breasts. Let's not refer to any of my body parts moving forward.

Also, I am not completely comfortable with the terms of endearment that you continuously call me, Sir. Please refer to me by my actual name, these emails are monitored by Tess and I would not like to be scalded with hot coffee again for a little misunderstanding.

Please let me know if you have any other pressing questions or concerns.

Goodnight!

IT Specialist 0926,

IT Department, Miller Construction Group

(512) 765-4321

"Ok Bubbles, let's see what mess Mr. Miller got himself into this time."

Settling by your coffee table, you access your remote portal and insert your portable SSD, initiating various programs to gain entry into your boss's laptop. Securing your hair in a messy top bun with a claw clip, you find yourself biting your bottom lip in concentration. Simultaneously, you switch on your TV, finding solace in the ambient noise that fills your dimly lit apartment—a space shared with Sir Bubbles, your British Shorthair companion since your college days. There's a marathon of Criminal Minds airing on TBS, Spencer Reid's adorable face on screen as he rattles off another theory for why the unsub was an abuse victim by his prostitute mother. You turn the volume down a bit, drowning out his voice.

It's near silent in the little shoebox you call home, the only decent place you were able to afford with your meager savings- after slaving away as a Geek Squad IT Specialist for the majority of your twenties at the Best Buy down the road from your parent's house. Despite graduating with your MIS at the University of Texas - Dallas, finding a decent job in your industry was brutal, and, honestly, quite embarrassing after receiving 30-plus rejection emails in a span of a year. Downtrodden and desperate for a job, you settled on working at Best Buy temporarily, but by the time you hit your mid-30s, it's been eight years working for barely minimum wage, and absolutely nothing to show for it.

"Do you remember those sweet Miller boys who fixed our roof ten years ago?" your mother asks during a Sunday dinner six months ago, sliding a boat of gravy your way as you absentmindedly drizzle it over your mashed potatoes. "I ran into the older one... Joeseph? James? He owns his own company now with his brother, quite the feat, right? They're working on that hotel down the road... anyway, Josh-"

"Joel," you correct her, nudging the over-steamed carrots around your plate. "I think his name was Joel, Mama."

"Yes, Joel," your mother dismissively waves her hands. "Well, I told him about how you were on the job hunt, you know, with your master's and all. Oh, remember when you used to have that silly little crush on him? He's grown to be quite the looker, you know? Anyway, he told me that they were looking for someone to replace their old IT person—apparently, they retired—"

"Mom," you groan, "get to the point."

"Well," she grins conspiratorially, "he wants you to apply, baby. He remembers you and your little crush, and he said he could never forget someone as cute as you. If you're as good as I claimed you were, well... the job's practically yours!"

Your fork slips from your grasp, the metallic clang against porcelain causing Bubbles to leap in surprise, hissing at you in irritation. "Wait, what?" you blurt out, your eyes wide with a mix of shock and confusion.

Your mother beams at your reaction, seemingly pleased with the bombshell she just dropped. "I told him all about your IT skills and how you practically run the technology world from your bedroom. He seemed really interested, sweetie. And, well, it wouldn't hurt to at least consider it, right?"

You sit there, a swirl of thoughts and emotions whirling in your mind. The unexpected twist of Joel Miller, the older Miller boy you once had a crush on, remembering you and possibly offering you a job—it's surreal. Bubbles, having recovered from the earlier disturbance, casually resumes licking his paw, completely uninterested in the familial drama.

"I... I don't know, Mom," you stammer, trying to process this unexpected turn of events. "I mean, working for the Millers? It's a bit... complicated."

She leans in, her voice lowering to a conspiratorial whisper. "Sweetheart, this could be a fantastic opportunity. And who knows, maybe that little crush of yours could turn into something more... professional, of course." She cuts into her meatloaf, humming in contentment as she chews. "Oh, and Sweetie? Wear the red sweater with your pleated skirt, with something other than those sneakers. You're turning thirty-six in September; you can at least do yourself a favor and start dressing your age for once! I'm sure Joel would appreciate it!" she winks at you as your father grunts in displeasure, rolling his eyes, muttering "meddler" under his breath.

"Mom, it was just a crush from a decade ago. Besides, mixing work and personal feelings is never a good idea."

She chuckles, reaching across the table to pat your hand. "Well, think about it, okay? Joel seemed genuinely interested in having you on the team. It's worth exploring, don't you think?"

A wink, a handshake, and six months later, you find yourself on-call indefinitely, catering to Mr. Miller's every technological whim and folly. It's not a bad job, you reason — getting paid triple what you made at Best Buy, monitoring everyone's browsing history in the office, and fielding the incessant IT requests Mr. Miller sends your way- which was often. Way too often.

[My laptop won't turn on.] Did you charge it? Try doing that first.

[Why does the volume not work on my Zoom calls?] Did you make sure that you're not on mute or that your computer volume is up? Check that first.

[Since when did we put a parental blocker on the internet?] It was per Tess, who said that employees should be working instead of looking up anti-feminist manifestos on Reddit. I apologize for the inconvenience, Mr. Miller. [Oh, well shit. Do you think you could unblock it for me? I am... having a hard time accessing my... bank account.] I mean- I could, but I would have to run it by Tess first. [Do you think you could... for me? It'll be our little secret, Sugar. Don't worry about Tess, I'll handle her.] Sure, Mr. Miller... Right. Our little secret. [Sugar, for the last time, it's Joel. Besides, I thought we were past having a silly little crush on me, you've grown into a... rather nice young woman. Please, call me Joel.] Uh, sure Mr. Miller.

You are broken from your silent reverie by the unmistakable ding, ding, ding of the pop-ups Joel- Mr. Miller - you correct yourself, mentioned in his email. You scoff, biting into a piece of beef jerky. Typing in a command, the pop-ups halt, the black screen granting you developer access popping up as you run diagnostic after diagnostic trying to catch the little sucker - a virus, as Mr. Miller claimed - in the act of corrupting your poor boss' laptop once again. There you are, you little shit, you mutter under your breath as you furiously type in more commands, eradicating Mr. Miller's bane of existence for good (or so you hope).

After running what felt like the tenth diagnostic of the night and downing three cups of coffee for the last three hours, the dawn of a new day streaks through the sheer curtains against your window. With bated breath, you restart Joel's system once more, closing your eyes until the familiar chime of Windows 11 booting up reaches your ears.

Please, please, please for fucks sake... no more pop-ups...

Joel's home screen pops up in an instant, the photo of him and his two girls smiling back at you as you breathe in a sigh of relief. "Fuck yes! Finally!" you silently exclaim, a drawn-out yawn and a deep stretch escaping your body as you settle your laptop on your couch. "Okay, let's just run a few programs and check a few documents to make sure they're not corrupted and then I can finally hit the sack..." you squint at the digital clock of your microwave, "and sleep for an hour before I have to get ready for work," you groan, eyeing the jar of Cafe Bustelo in the distance. Yep. No sleep for me, you think bitterly. Another night, another one of Mr. Miller's computer meltdowns...

Your eyes scan his desktop, opening up the PowerPoint file he needs for his presentation. It opens up with a slight lag, something you can optimize later but you breathe out another sigh of relief anyway. You check his internet browsing history, his late-night extensive porn viewing not a surprise to you anymore as you snort at the ridiculousness of it all. At least it's not as bad and kinky as Tommy's browsing history, you tell yourself, because you'll never quite get used to all of the roleplay porn he watches religiously, you think. Closing out of Google Chrome, You scan his desktop for a random Word doc for you to open, not checking its title as you double-click on the first one that you see, slightly hidden by the Recycle Bin icon to the bottom right. Wants? What kind of a file name is that?

The Word doc pops open, and it seems to be a running list of random things. You blearily scan the line items, your eyes widening in shock as you read on.

Fuck her against my office door as I cover her mouth to muffle her screams.

Spoil her with a shopping spree at Neiman's with my Amex black card.

Fulfill my breeding fantasy by convincing her to get off of her Birth Control (do you think she's on one?)

Fuck her from behind against Tess' desk (serves her right)

You quickly exit out of the document, pushing your laptop away as if it were cursed. You look at the document title once more.

Wants.

What the fuck was this? Who is he talking about? you ponder, the guilt of your negligence weighing on you like a weight tied to your ankles as you sink into the depths of the Atlantic. You shut your laptop for good measure, covering it up with your quilt as you shake your head in disbelief.

What the fuck did I just read?

“Mr. Miller? Do you have a moment?”

You knock on the office door once more for good measure, standing timidly as you try to occupy yourself by smoothing out your dress - sensible, a decent length, work appropriate, you think to yourself. You try to not occupy the idle time of waiting for your boss, Joel Miller, one half of Miller Construction- and the thing you found while remote logging onto his computer last night - I think I have a virus, his email stated - only to stumble upon something rather telling and personal - but he was your boss, and you were a professional, and you weren’t going to think about the list…

Kiss her in the rain.

Make love in my truck as she rides me.

Bend her over my desk and take her from behind.

Marathon sex

Eat her out as she works at her desk.

No, Joel was unequivocally your boss—older than you by at least a decade (and maybe a few more years, give or take), and the document titled "Wants" was clearly personal, likely intended for someone else, and certainly not meant to be seen by anyone, especially not an overly curious IT specialist like you. No, you reckon that this list was meant for someone else in the office - someone beautiful, sexy, and confident— someone decidedly who isn't you. Certainly not for someone who dresses like she’s still in college, who only recently began living on her own in a shoebox of an apartment (if you can call it that) after living with her parents for the majority of her adult life, and who barely has her life together. It’s pathetic, being a woman of a certain age and with nothing to show for it, still painfully single, nothing substantial to your name, only getting your life together now while everyone around you has done everything right. I feel so behind in life, you think to yourself. Who would want someone so pathetic as me?

It’s not like it’s a crime to have wants, you think to yourself. Everyone has them, including you, you reason. So what if you just so happen to stumble upon your boss's deepest (and somewhat depraved) desires? Doesn’t everyone have a bucket list of their desires written somewhere? So what if your older, attractive boss with his Gen X tendencies has it typed out on his work computer? It’s not like he meant for you to open up the Word doc, right?

You knew he was single. You also knew that he had kids, at least two—Sarah, his eldest, was the head of HR, and Ellie, his adoptive younger daughter, an apprentice working under Tommy, the other half of Miller Construction—a serial flirt who asked you about your dating life in your interview a few months back. No, you didn’t think about your boss and the sheer mass of man that he was, that he smelled like cedar and sandalwood, that he winks when he tells you good morning as you pass him in the parking lot while stumbling out of your less-than-impressive shitty Corolla. You also didn’t take note that he drinks his coffee black with a sprinkle of sugar—the one in the brown packet—or that he eats in his office instead of the employee lounge because he’s a messy eater. The deep red blush trailing down his neck as Tommy scolded him about his lack of table manners during a company-mandated team-building day wasn't proof enough of that.

There wasn’t a ring on that tell-tale finger, not even a tan line, no photographs of another woman on his desk—besides his daughters, of course. Not that you were looking. Tommy had his wife Maria come down to the office often enough; wouldn’t Joel be the same with his own?

Miller Construction prided itself on being a family-run company, with Joel and Tommy at the helm and their best friend Tess as VP—more the boss than the actual Miller brothers. While Joel and Tommy preferred the hands-on work on-site, Tess ruled over the office with an iron fist. No one dared to cross her.

"You've got one job, and one job only," she declared during your office tour. "Make sure no one spends the majority of their shift watching porn, and keep Joel from messing up his computer with his boomer-isms. We can't afford to keep replacing a laptop every six months."

"Isn't he in Gen X?" you ask. "... at 56 years old, he's still considered to be in that generation, right?"

"Technically, yes," Tess replies with an exasperated sigh. "But you know what I mean. Sometimes it feels like Joel is stuck in a time warp with his 'boomer-isms.' Just keep things running smoothly here, alright?"

As the days pass, you notice an unusual trend in Joel's computer issues. It seems that every time his laptop malfunctions, it coincides with a spike in suspicious internet activity. It doesn't take a genius to connect the dots, and you can't help but shake your head at the irony of it all.

After a particularly eventful morning filled with more than the usual technical hiccups, you decide it's time to address the elephant in the room. You knock on Joel's office door, half-expecting him to be engrossed in some spreadsheet or construction plans.

It's not like you have to tell him about your snooping - he would be none the wiser judging by the way he was so technologically inept - you weren't about to tell him that the reason for the virus on the computer was because he was looking at some rather specific porn - boss fucks unsuspecting secretary from behind- his internet history had listed, nor did he probably think that his computer is being monitored, including his internet browsing history- company policy, as stated on the employee handbook that every employee of Miller Construction signs on the day of their official hiring- nor does he think that it sends reports to her at the end of the day.

You don't think about how the sudden uptick of his secretary porn viewing increased since a week after your hiring. It's just a coincidence, right?

“Mr. Miller?” You call out once more. “It’s about your IT request last night? I have an update?”

“Yeah? Sorry! Come on in!” you hear from behind the door, accompanied by the frantic shuffle of papers and a silent curse. You take a deep breath as your hand turns the doorknob. Silently, you shut the door behind you, offering a small smile as you smooth out the skirt of your dress once more.

You fidget in place in front of the door as Joel—Mr. Miller—in his green flannel and dark jeans slung just right—it really should be criminal, looking this ruggedly handsome for someone his age, you think—as he ungraciously flops onto his desk chair, motioning for you to take the seat in front of him as he clears his throat nervously. “Take a seat.”

You situate yourself in front of him, refusing to meet his eyes as you fiddle with your hands on your lap, wondering why he, out of all people, would be nervous. It's not like he stumbled upon something so... intimate. You are a professional, and you were only doing your job, you tell yourself like a mantra, trying to ground yourself. What's the worst that could happen? It's not like he would fire you over your accidental snooping, right? You nod to yourself. “So…”

“So…” he replies, Adam’s apple bobbing as he takes a drink of his coffee. “Thank you for taking a look at my computer last night.” He begins, smiling at you. “I know that it was late, and I’m willing to compensate your time by giving you time and a half…”

“Oh,” you nervously reply, shifting in your seat. “No, Mr. Miller—”

“Joel.”

“What?”

He shakes his head. “Please. We’re all family here. Call me Joel. Mr. Miller is my father for fuck's sake—”

“Right,” you chuckle. “Sure. Joel. Listen, you don’t need to compensate me for last night, let alone give me the overtime rate—”

“I emailed you at midnight; surely you were already busy, or I probably irritated your husband—”

“No.”

“No?”

“No,” you mumble solemnly, “there’s no husband, just me and my cat-“

He barks at that, the laugh so loud it makes you jump in your seat. He gives you a look, almost as if he was relieved with that bit of information. “Well, disturbing your cat, then-“

"Oh," you reply casually, waving your hands in dismissal. "I'm sure Sir Bubbles didn't mind... and I don't sleep much, really—"

"Oh?" He straightens himself, his face serious. "Is it because of all of my requests? Shit. My girls give me such a hard time about not being with the times, I'm not really interested in technology— So no husband? Boyfriend, then?"

"Uh, no," you reply quickly, not eager to delve into the details of your lackluster love life. You clear your throat, adopting a professional demeanor. "Joel, as you're aware—or maybe not," you chuckle nervously, "I receive reports of all employee internet histories at the end of the day. Being the sole IT specialist on your payroll—perks of the job, outlined in my duties—I keep an eye out for any... irregularities."

"Irregularities?" he replies, his demeanor shifting into something resembling guilt. "What are you trying to get at?" he presses.

"Well, I monitor employee computer usage to make sure that they're not... distracted from their work," you reply. "Tess was explicit about not having any employees using company time for any unnecessary personal... dalliances."

Joel gives you a hard look. "Dalliances?"

"Yes, dalliances. Tess told me it was an issue before, with employees browsing social media and visiting questionable Reddit threads?"

"I don't follow," Joel replies. "You gotta spell it out for me, Sugar. What does that have to do with my request last night? I had a late night at the office, and after... checking my emails," he gulps, "I suddenly get bombarded with these pop-up things, so much that I just... unplugged my laptop... and, well-"

How is he so oblivious about this? You bite your cheek in frustration, not knowing how to get to the point without having to spell it out for him that you caught him browsing porn last night, secretary porn at that, and although it's highly inappropriate, you hardly think he was watching it because of Gladys, his actual secretary, who is old enough to be his mother. Not unless he has some weird mommy kink...

Unable to endure the suspense any longer, you decide to rip the bandaid off as soon as possible. “I’m sorry!” You exclaim, “I didn't mean to look at your browsing history, I mean, I had to, but only because I had to find the reason why a virus got on your computer, but that is not the point! I had to open a file to make sure it wasn't corrupted, and I swear, I didn't mean to open it!"

“Open what, sweetheart?” he smiles at you, leaning forward towards you.

"Well, it was a virus, and as I looked into the problem, I had to explore every avenue to ensure I pinpointed the issue, you know, for my report to Tess. I went into your history to see if it might have been a site that caused you to have the virus. I may have casually peeked into a few files to ensure they weren’t corrupted…” you admit, “…and I might have stumbled upon-" your eyebrows raise in embarrassment, "Something personal."

“Something personal?” He questions, his brows furrowed in confusion. “I don’t have anything personal… oh, shit.” His eyes widen as the realization dawns on him, hands covering his face as he groans in embarrassment. "Look, about my internet history... and the list-"

You slowly nod and bite your lip, mostly to hide your own embarrassment. “… yeah. Um, it was quite... informative about your... sexual preferences.”

Joel visibly pales at your confession. He adjusts his collar, unbuttoning the second button as if he were being strangled by your scrutiny. “I just want to let you know", he starts, looking you in the eye with an unreadable expression. "I respect you as a woman, and Tommy, fuck, he wouldn’t let it go, with all that teasing about you being exactly my type and all, and well, your mother did remind me about your little crush on me back then-“ he rubs his hands through his hair as he rambles on, “… and I know that this looks bad, with you being my employee and all-“

“Wait, what?” You cut him off, a confused look on your face. “What do you mean? I mean, they're your personal preferences, and the list, well, I'm sure whoever you're writing about must be some woman, not that it's any of my business-”

“Fuck. You didn’t read all of it?”

“No!” You exclaim, practically jumping out of your seat. “I quickly closed it once I realized the nature of the document…”

“Well.” He stands up suddenly, pacing behind his desk. “I wrote that drunkenly one night after the company dinner, you know, the one when you wore that dress… do you remember?”

“Yes,” you reply breathily, “… the night where-“

You vividly recall that night. It was a dinner at the recently completed new hotel project. After a few glasses of wine and an impulsive, rather expensive purchase at Nordstrom.com a week prior, you endured most of the evening in an uncomfortably tight and overly revealing dress—a poor choice for a company party, for fucks sake. You believed Joel approached you at the end of the night out of sheer pity, not because—

“Well… after seeing you in that dress, and how stunning you looked in it, sitting by yourself, biting your lip in a way that makes me-“ he stops himself, giving you a small smile. “I was drunk, and I was thinking… I was contemplating how, if I were to have you, if you, by some miracle of fate… were interested, that I would do things right, you know? That if I had a second chance at… I would do it right. Treat you right.”

“You do know I’m not a secretary, let alone your secretary,” you roll your eyes. “I’m in IT… the only person in IT actually, and you’re not the first person I caught looking at questionable porn…”

Joel bristles at that. “Shit. Let me guess… Tommy?”

That gets a small smile out of you. “I can neither confirm nor deny, but… he’s partial towards a certain porn actress, and let’s just say he is really in love with women who looks like his wife.”

He smiles. "Shit, I thought I was being obvious enough, being that Tommy has teased me about it enough... I thought you knew. I know you work with computers, Sugar. I’m not completely senile, and I know Tess has been on a warpath about people getting their rocks off at work, I figured you would look at all of my… perusing.”

You're left stunned, your mind racing to process what Joel just revealed. It's not the revelation about his desires that leaves you speechless, but the unexpected admission of his feelings toward you. Your mind flashes back to the list, the desires that seemed so out of reach for someone like you. You never thought Joel would be harboring any feelings for you, let alone express them so openly.

"I... I had no idea," you stammer, still grappling with the revelation. "I thought that list was for someone else, someone... not me."

Joel walks around the desk, his eyes never leaving yours. "You thought wrong, sweetheart. I've been trying to drop hints, but I guess I've been subtler than I thought."

A myriad of emotions wash over you — confusion, surprise, and a hint of something you can't quite place. The professional boundary between boss and employee seems to blur, and you find yourself in uncharted territory.

"But," he continues, "I get it. I'm your boss, and this is complicated. I didn't want to put you in an awkward position. I should've been more direct."

You take a deep breath, trying to steady yourself. "Joel, it's not about being direct or indirect. This is just... unexpected. I never thought someone like you would... feel that way about someone like me."

He reaches out, gently lifting your chin so you meet his gaze. "Someone like me? What does that even mean, darlin'? You're intelligent and beautiful, and I've seen the way you handle your work. I've noticed you, and I can't help how I feel."

A mixture of vulnerability and sincerity in his eyes makes it hard to doubt his words. You start to consider the possibility that maybe, just maybe, your insecurities have clouded your perception.

"I don't want to pressure you, and I understand if you're not comfortable with this. I just needed you to know. The last thing I want is for things to be awkward at work," he says, his thumb gently caressing your cheek.

You take a moment to absorb everything. Joel's revelation, your preconceptions, and the unexpected turn of events. The office, once a familiar space, now feels like uncharted territory.

"I need time to process this," you finally say. "It's a lot to take in, Joel. I never expected... any of this."

He nods understandingly, his hand dropping to his side. "Take all the time you need. I'll respect whatever decision you make. And hey, if you're not interested, we can go back to being boss and employee, like nothing happened."

You manage a small smile, appreciating his attempt to lighten the mood. "I'll... let you know. Just give me some time, okay?"

"Of course," he says, moving back toward his desk. "And, for what it's worth, I meant every word on that list. Whether it's a rain kiss or making love in my truck, I want it all with you."

You nod, silently acknowledging his sincerity. As you leave his office, you can't help but wonder how a routine IT request led to such a revelation. The office dynamics have shifted, and you find yourself navigating uncharted waters, unsure of where this unexpected revelation will lead.

As you walk away from Joel's office, a whirlwind of conflicting thoughts consumes your mind. The revelation about Joel's feelings for you is a shock, but it's not the only thing echoing in your head. The list of desires he had penned down only magnifies your own insecurities. The voice in your mind grows louder, whispering that you're not the woman he deserves—too much of a mess, too behind in life, and certainly not beautiful enough for someone like him. The echoes of your perceived inadequacies replay like a broken record, drowning out the possibility that someone could genuinely see something valuable in you. You glance at your reflection in the office window, critiquing every imperfection, every perceived flaw. The dress that seemed sensible before now feels like a sad attempt to disguise what you believe is a lack of style or grace. The weight of self-doubt becomes an invisible burden, and you can't shake the feeling that you're not enough, that you may never be enough for someone like Joel.

As you grapple with your internal struggles, a small spark of defiance begins to flicker within you. Perhaps it's time to challenge those self-limiting beliefs, to be bolder than your insecurities allow. Joel's admission has opened a door you never expected, and you find yourself at a crossroads. Despite the echoes of doubt, a newfound courage whispers that maybe, just maybe, you can be more than what you perceive.

Embracing this sudden surge of determination, you make a decision. Instead of letting fear dictate your actions, you choose to confront the uncertainties head-on. Swallowing the apprehension that threatens to hold you back, you turn on your heel and head back to Joel's office. The faint thud of your own heartbeat echoes in your ears as you push open the door.

"Joel," you say, your voice steadier than you anticipated. "I've been thinking about what you said, and I need you to clarify something for me."

He looks up from his desk, curiosity etched across his features. "Sure, what's on your mind?"

You take a deep breath, suppressing the self-doubt that still lingers. "Is that list something you genuinely desire with me, or was it just a drunken fantasy?"

Joel's eyes lock onto yours, a mix of surprise and sincerity in his gaze. "Every word of it is something I want with you. Why?"

A daring smile plays on your lips as you respond, "Then let's not leave it as a list, Joel. Let's see how many of those desires we can turn into reality."

The room seems to hold its breath for a moment as Joel's expression shifts from surprise to a slow, understanding smile. The air thickens with anticipation, leaving the next steps uncertain but filled with the promise of something new and exhilarating. As you stand on the precipice of this unexpected journey, the uncharted waters of possibilities lie ahead, and you find yourself ready to take the plunge.

Taglist: @gwendibleywrites, @joeldjarin, @brittmb115

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