#i say around because no year is specified in the books
Text
Pluto isn't a planet anymore.
It was reclassified in 2006.
That is around the time Percy Jackson is set, right? It could be the year of titans curse. It could be the year Zeus and Poseidon found out Hades also has kids yet he technically never broke the pact made after WW2.
I say these guys are petty enough, how about you?
#i say around because no year is specified in the books#and I'm delusional#whateve#r#percy Jackson#pjo#hoo#heros of olympus#nico Di Angelo#Hades pjo#hades Percy Jackson#zeus pjo#zeus Percy Jackson#poseidon pjo#poseidon Percy Jackson#camp half blood#pluto#pluto planet#percy jackson headcanon#pjo hcs#pjo headcanon#annabeth chase#grover Underwood#will solace#Jason grace#thalia grace#hazel lavesque#frank zhang
202 notes
·
View notes
Text
safe and sound
Post Outbreak! Joel Miller x Female Reader
summary: Your daughter has a nightmare—her daddy makes it all better.
warnings/tags: 18+ ONLY, MINORS DNI. set in Jackson. slight canon age deviations (Joel is 56, Ellie is 17) READER’S AGE IS NOT SPECIFIED. she’s a child bearing adult woman so do with that information what you will. established relationship, reader and Joel have a toddler (her age is not specified in fic but she’s 3 ish years old), reader has NO PHYSICAL DESCRIPTION and neither does their child except she has Joel’s eyes and his dark curls, no mentions of her skintone. Joel and Ellie are fine bc he deserves it, Joel’s an overprotective girl dad, reader is the chill parent. implications of a toddler being told about clickers, bad dreams, almost smut, Joel and reader get cockblocked, SOFT Joel who comforts his babygirl, mention of Sarah towards the end. very minimal editing.
word count: 2.3k
a/n: listen, i love me some daddy joel but tonight i needed a bit of actual daddy joel. this was whipped up last minute bc i haven’t had the best weekend and needed some comfort. also i didn’t have the mental capacity or energy to come up with a moodboard, so gif it is.
Joel looks down at the old, worn book in his hand.
Winnie the Pooh.
He never would have imagined it. This.
Reading a bedtime story to a toddler. His toddler.
He’s in his fifties—he shouldn’t have a toddler.
He shouldn’t have a teenager, either.
Yet, he has both.
The toddler has his blood, the teenager doesn’t.
But that doesn’t matter to him.
Joel still considers her to be his own kid.
Only, she’s not a kid anymore, not really.
She’s seventeen now. She doesn’t need him much anymore, not the way that his toddler needs him.
“Ellie’s not coming home tonight,” you’d said from where you stood at the stove, stirring in chunks of potato and chopped carrots into the pot of stew in front of you. “There’s a birthday party down at the bar. She’s going with Dina and Jesse.” You can feel the look of disapproval on his face and add, “I said she could go, Joel. She asked me permission.”
“She didn’t ask me,” he’d gruffed. He looked down at the little girl sitting in his lap, scribbling away on an old state map. He had given it to her along with the pack of crayons he’d found during patrol when his group stumbled across a schoolhouse. Though crumbling on the outside, the inside had remained untouched throughout the last two decades—little coats hanging over the back of little chairs, papers scattered all over little desks, little lunch boxes still stored in their cubbies at the back of the room. He instructed the group to search for anything useful, anything that Jackson’s teachers could use for the children in their classrooms. Joel knew that taking without trading was against the rules, but that did nothing to stop him from secretly slipping the box of crayons into his jacket pocket when no one had been looking.
His daughter’s squeals of delight when he’d gifted them to her had been well worth the theft.
“Because she knew you’d say no to her.”
“I would have. Kid’s got no business going to a bar at her age. She’s fuckin’ seventeen years ol—”
The little girl had gasped and stopped coloring.
“Daddy said a bad word.”
You’d turned around and glared at him. “He did.”
She looked up at him with her wide, brown eyes.
Those she’d gotten from him. His dark curls too.
Everything else?
Her smile, her nose, her softness?
That was all you.
“M’sorry, babygirl,” he apologized, sheepishly.
“S’okay, daddy.”
And back to coloring she went.
“Joel, let’s face it. Ellie’s growing up. She’s turning eighteen in a few months and truth is, she has one foot out the door.” Crossing your arms, you leaned back against the counter. “She was telling me how she wants to turn the garage into her own space.”
“There a reason she ain’t talkin’ to me ‘bout this?”
You’d smiled wistfully at him.
“Because she knows this is hard for you, Joel.”
It is hard. Because even though she isn’t his, she’s his and he’s afraid to lose her somehow.
Joel manages to snap himself out of his thoughts.
Rosemary’s now fast asleep, her well loved stuffed bunny rabbit wrapped in her arms. She’s a handful for him during bedtime—she has too much energy and most nights, you have to step in and help him. But tonight, after her bath, he had warmed a glass of milk for her to drink and it seemed to have done the trick because within minutes of him reading to her, her eyes fluttered closed.
Joel sets the book down and leans over to brush a kiss onto her cheek, quietly whispering goodnight. “Sweet dreams, babygirl.”
He switches off the lamp on the bedside table and steps out of his child’s bedroom, being careful not to wake her as he closes the door behind him.
“I still can’t believe she fell asleep within minutes,” you say, staring at him in utter disbelief. “How?”
“Gave her a glass of warm milk before I tucked her into bed,” Joel explains, tugging on a pair of faded black sweatpants. He peels off his shirt and tosses it onto the floor before climbing into bed. “Worked like a fuckin’ charm. She’s out like a damn light.”
You set your book down and raise an eyebrow.
“Joel, I brushed her teeth before her bath.”
“I brushed them again after she drank it, darlin’.”
He outstretches his arm, beckoning for you.
Grinning, you scoot closer to him, draping an arm over his bare chest. “It’s only nine,” you tell him. “I have no idea what we’re going to do with all of this free time we have. Rosemary’s asleep, Ellie’s gone for the night.” You slowly drag your hand down his chest and over his stomach, a finger skimming the waistband of his sweatpants. You hear the way his breath catches in his throat and tease, “I guess we can actually get some good sleep for once, huh?”
Groaning, Joel rolls over and pins you down to the bed as he positions himself on top of you, his eyes glazed over with lust. “We can sleep,” he murmurs as his mouth hovers over yours. He reaches for the buttons of his flannel you’re wearing and begins to single-handedly pop them open only to find you’re not wearing anything underneath. He groans once more. “Or I can make you feel good. S’your choice, baby.”
You gasp as he nips at your chin and starts trailing his lips lower, peppering kisses down the length of your body. Heat blossoms in your lower belly as he settles himself between your thighs. Hooking both arms around them, he nibbles at the soft spot that is right below your navel, the spot you hate, but he adores. Having a child had changed your body and while you two seldom had time to yourselves to do anything of this nature, when you did find time, he never failed to make you feel like you were still just as beautiful to him, if not a thousand times more.
“Fuck,” you whimper. “Please, Joel.”
“Please what, sweetheart? What do you want?”
His voice is low, husky.
Your hands reach down and tangle in his curls.
“Your mouth, Joel. Please. I need your—”
The sound of a teeny knock at the door makes you both freeze on the spot.
“You heard that, right?” you ask him breathlessly.
There’s a second teeny knock.
It’s then followed by an even teenier voice.
“Mommy? Daddy?”
“Fuck,” Joel hisses, scrambling off the bed. “What the hell is she doin’ out of bed?” Picking his t-shirt up from the floor, he quickly throws it on, ignoring that he’d put it on inside out. Watching you as you fumble to button his flannel, he calls, “Just give us one second babygirl, alright? We’ll be right there.”
“I’m decent,” you tell him, getting the last button.
Nodding, Joel opens the bedroom door. His knees protest when he squats down, lowering himself so that he can meet Rosemary’s tearful gaze.
“S’matter, Rosie Posie?” he asks her in a soft voice that he reserves for his girls. “What happened?”
She sniffles. “I—I had a bad dream, daddy.”
You sit on the side of bed and wait patiently.
Joel has it handled. He always has it handled.
He never stopped knowing how to be a father.
“You had a bad dream?” he repeats, frowning.
Rosemary nods, clutching her rabbit to her chest.
A single tear slips down the side of her little face.
Joel reaches out, gingerly wiping it with his finger.
“M’sorry it scared you, babygirl. Tell you what, just for tonight, how about you sleep with me and your mama in our bed? That sound good?” With a small labored grunt, he scoops her into his arms. She is getting heavier and you often tell him it’s not good for his back—he can’t care less. He’ll keep picking her up until the moment his little girl decides she’s a big girl and doesn’t want him to pick her up. Joel carries her over to the bed and sits her on your lap and reminds her, “But this is just for tonight, Rosie Posie. Tomorrow night you’re back in your own big girl bed, alright?”
“Okay,” she nods again and leans against you, tiny shoulders slumping.
“Rosie? What was your dream about?” you ask her gently, wrapping your arms around her. She hardly ever has nightmares—she’s too young to know the world outside the commune’s walls, smart but still too little to understand why she cannot go outside the gates. “What did you dream about, honey?”
She hesitates, then answers, “Monsters.”
“Monsters?” Perplexed, you glance at Joel.
He seems to be just as confused as you are.
“Who did you hear that word from, babygirl?”
“Robbie.”
Your neighbor’s unruly, troublemaker son.
Joel’s jaw clenches slightly. “Thought I told you he ain’t allowed to be around her. The kid is nine, ain’t got no business bein’ around Rosemary. Little brat ain’t nothin’ but a bad influence. He’s always up to no good.” He shakes his head at you. “Said I didn’t want that boy anywhere near our daughter.”
“The kids were out playing in the snow today,” you remember. “He must have been there too. It’s kind of hard to tell who is who when they’re all bundled up and flinging snowballs at each other, Joel.” You shoot him an apologetic look. “Rosie was having a blast playing with everybody—I’m sorry. I suppose I should’ve paid more attention to who was around her.”
He bites back a sigh. He knows it’s not your fault.
Rosie’s too good of a girl, too pure and innocent to know that not everybody is her friend.
“Rosie, what did Robbie say to you?”
Again, the child hesitates.
“He said—he said monsters live outside. They bite people and turn them into monsters too. He said it happened to his daddy.” Rosemary’s eyes flit from you to Joel. “He said it would happen to you, too.”
Your eyes widen in shock. “He said that to you?”
Hands curling into fists, Joel reminds himself now isn’t the time to let his anger take over. “S’not true at all, babygirl.” He reaches over and slides her out of your lap and onto his. Like you, he wants to lie—tell her those monsters she was told about are not real, that they don’t exist. But they do exist and as much as he wishes he could keep her from finding out about all that lies beyond Jackson’s walls, Joel knows that one day, she will. “Listen to me. M’real sorry to hear ‘bout Robbie’s daddy, baby. But I can promise you, that ain’t gonna happen to me.”
She points a chubby finger at you.
“What about mommy?”
“Ain’t gonna happen to her either.”
Rosemary drops her hand, fear clear in her tone as she asks the both of you, “What about me?”
“Of course not,” you say, smoothing back her dark curls. “You’re safe here, honey. As safe as can be.”
Joel nods. “Your mama’s right, darlin’. You’re safe,” he reassured her. “You’re safe and sound.”
“I am?”
He gives her body a warm, gentle squeeze. “Mhm. Always will be. Y’know how I know that, babygirl?”
“How?”
“‘Cause. As long as daddy’s around, he will always protect you,” he promises her. “He’ll never, ever let anythin’ bad happen to you, Rosie. I swear it.” Joel kisses the top of her head, his gaze meeting yours. He murmurs his oath quietly, “On my life.”
Flashing him a small, grateful smile, you reach out and touch his forearm and he places his hand over your own.
“And mommy too?” Rosemary questions him.
“And mommy too.”
“And Ellie?”
“And Ellie,” he nods, firmly. “M’always gonna keep my girls safe. S’long as I’m around, you’re all safe.”
Rosie tiredly snuggles into his chest, yawning.
“What about you, daddy?”
“Huh?”
You squeeze his arm. “Think she’s asking you who is supposed to keep you safe, Joel.”
The little girl nods sleepily. “Yeah. Who?”
“Well.” Joel’s throat bobs nervously. He knows the moment he says what he’s about to say, there’s no going back. Not that he never planned to tell Rosie about her sister, but he’d always imagined doing it when she was older and understood death. “I—uh, I have an angel in the clouds who looks out for me. She watches over me, keeps me safe and sound.”
Rosemary’s curiosity is all that is keeping her from completely passing out in his arms.
“Really? You have an angel?”
Your heart squeezes tightly in your chest. “Joel—”
He lightly shakes his head.
“S’fine sweetheart. I don’t mind tellin’ her.”
Rosie’s fighting to stay awake just a little longer.
“Daddy? What’s your angel’s name?”
Joel answers in the steadiest voice he can muster.
“Her name was—her name is Sarah.”
“Sarah,” she mumbles, her eyes closing. “S’pretty. Your angel has a really pretty name.”
“The prettiest name,” you agree, softly.
Rosie yawns again. “Daddy?”
“What is it, babygirl?”
“Will you tell me stories about Sarah? Please?”
Joel chuckles, rubbing her back. “I sure will. I have plenty of them to tell, Rosie Posie. But not tonight. I’ll save them for tomorrow ni—”
You cut him off. “Joel?”
“Yeah?”
“She’s out cold.”
He glances down and sure enough, she’s asleep.
Moments later, the three of you are in bed. Rosie’s in the middle, curled up against Joel’s chest—your chest is pressed against her back but you’re being careful not to sandwich her in too tight in between your bodies.
In a beam of silvery moonlight shining through the bedroom window, you meet Joel’s gaze.
“Thank you,” you whisper.
He chuckles. “For what? Doin’ my job and soothin’ our daughter after a bad dream?”
You smile at him.
“For being so good to her. To me and Ellie.” Lifting a hand, you reach over and cup the side of his face in your palm. “You’re so good to all three of us and I can’t even imagine what we’d do without you.”
Joel turns his face, brushing a kiss into your hand.
“I mean it,” he says, quietly. “S’long as I’m around, you girls will always be safe and sound.”
credit divider @saradika-graphics
#joel miller x reader#joel miller x you#joel miller x y/n#joel miller fanfiction#joel miller fluff#joel miller angst#joel miller x f!reader#joel miller x female reader#joel miller one shot#joel miller fic#the last of us fanfiction#the last of us fic#fic: safe and sound
2K notes
·
View notes
Note
Can you make a dom reader with Valentino or Lucifer? Here's some ideas if you'd like
Valentino: Something about rubbing and massaging his fur
Lucifer: Something about being stressed about work and just wanting to be fucked until he can't think anymore.
Thank you if you choose to do this :D
(Sorry if it came off as rude, this is my first request with anyone)
Till I Feel Better
Lucifer x Gn!reader
———————————————————————
“Poor Lucifer has been so stressed and pent up recently, so he does the best thing he can think of, and comes to you to help him relax.”
Tags: Sub!Lucifer, Dom!Reader, Whimpering and moaning, Praise, Lucifer getting his brains fucked out of him, blow jobs/oral sex, slight dry humping
A/N: Since no gender was specified I went with gn. I tried to just do you riding him because it’s possible for any gender, I’m very sorry if it’s not what was asked. This is literally just him getting fucked. Very little plot.
MDNI
———————————————————————
You were in the library, reading a book. You sat at your normal spot on a couch. humming softly with your legs kicked up on one of the cushions. You turn the page and hear footsteps coming from the entrance.
You look up to see Lucifer looking around for something, and his eyes land on you and he smiles.
You give him a smile back and bookmark the page you were on and set the book on the side table next to you. He walks over with a smile still on his face.
You sit up and greet him. “Hey Luci, how was your day honey?” You ask as he comes closer, once he’s close enough giving him a quick cheek kiss.
He blushes at the kiss like it’s his first, even though you two have been together for years, yet you don’t mind it, finding it quite cute.
“Ah, stressful, but I’m very glad to see you.” He says, you move your feet from the other side of the couch so he can sit there, he hums in delight, taking a seat next to you.
“Oh yeah?” You ask, leaning to him, running a hand through his hair.
He sighs and leans into it your touch. “J’st a lot of paperwork.” He says, smiling softly at you, instant hidden in his eyes, yet the motive not yet clear.
You lean over to him and give him a kiss, and he kisses back almost instantly.
You two stay there for a couple moments, before you try to lean away slightly, but he leans forward, stopping you from breaking the kiss.
You go along with it for a minute, after a couple moments you find yourself laying down with him straddling you. The kisses becoming more heated.
Drool slowly starts dripping down from his lips, you notice him panting and whimpering in between kisses.
You feel his hips twitch a bit, still clothed, he begins to rut against you, as his whimpers begin to turn into louder whines.
You lean back to pull away, but Lucifer tries to follow you to continue the kiss, but you softly push him back.
Hes panting hard, drool running down his chin, his cheeks very red, his eyes half lidded and his dick obviously very hard on his pants, a small wet spot already forming. He wipes the drool with his sleeve, looking at you with with need.
“Well someone’s pent up.” You say, stroking his cheek as he whines, jutting against you again, before you hold down his hips, earning you a distressed whimper.
“P-…please.. n’ so… want you.. p—ease…” He begs, kissing you desperately inbetween words.
You gently push him away. Before he could protest, you shove him down, so you are straddling him now.
He grips you waist, a desperate look on his face. “Mn p..please..”
You unbutton a couple of his shirt buttons. “Want me to care of you honey?” You coo, and he nods quickly.
You laugh a bit and finish unbuttoning, running your hand up and down his abs.
“P-please…! Mhm.. don’t tease me…” He whines, shuddering as your hand catches on the waist of his pants.
“Don’t worry handsome I’m gonna take care of you.” You murmur, unzipping his pants and pulling them down, as your partner squirms underneath you.
You stroke his cheek, pulling down his underwear, presenting his already hard and leaking cock, red at the tip. You glance at him to see his staring at you, desperately.
Pumping it a couple times, you lean down, teasing the tip a bit with a little swipe of your tongue, earning you a jolt. “Nnno t-easing…” Lucifer begs.
You slowly begin to take him in your mouth, a glance up letting you see his eyes begin to roll back into his head, his chest already heaving.
Slowly but surely you take his to the base, before you begin bobbing up and down, Lucifer’s hands flying to your hair, his hips stuttering subconsciously.
You don’t mind though, humming around him, knowing it drives him crazy. “Ngh h-agh.. fuuu- plea- darling… hah…” He squirms and writhes above you.
You go from speeding up to slowing down, still teasing him slightly. His cries filling the library, anyone who would walk past knowing exactly what is happening. Not that Lucifer would let them live after that.
Your hands play and knead his balls, your tongue massaging him. Drool is running down his chin by now, eyes trying to stay focused on you. Tears are on the edge of his eyes as he tries to desperately tries to keep them back.
“Co- ah.. hon- g’nna cum… pleas-ah!” He whines, trying to alert you to his upcoming, yet quick orgasm. You speed up, determined to make him cum, not minding that it’s so fast.
With a cry, Lucifer arches, cumming deep down your throat. You swallow, a bit dripping from your mouth. You sit up, looking at the fucked out expression on his face.
Smiling, you look at the panting, wrecked man infront of you. You push his hair out of his eyes, before sticking your fingers in his mouth.
As soon as you do that, he begins sucking sloppily, still experiencing aftershocks from his orgasm, spit running down your fingers.
Once you belive they are wet enough, you unbutton your own pants, with the help of Lucifer, you pull them down.
You reach behind you and slowly stick a finger in your entrance, hissing at the intrusion. After a couple moments you stick another in.
Lucifer watches lustfully, his cock already hard again, watching you piston your fingers in and out of yourself.
When you are stretched out enough, you pull them out, and line yourself up with lucifers dick, before going down on him sharply, bottoming out instantly.
You must admit it did hurt a tad, the shock a bit much. But your partners reaction priceless. As soon as you drop down. his nails dig into the couches armrest, tearing it up. His eyes roll back into his skull, face completely red. Hair tangled and messy. He heaves and lets out half moans and whimpers. Not quite being able to decide whether to beg or catch his breath.
However, he doesn’t get much of a choice as you begin bouncing up and down on him, setting a brutal pace right away.
He chokes on his spit, writhing underneath you, hands scrambling to find something to grab onto. Settling on your waist.
He begs and moans loudly, still sensitive from his previous orgasm. “Pleaseee fuckfuckfu- dar-darling.. ngh- ha.” He has his eyes shut as you bounce up and down on him, tears running down his cheeks from overstimulation.
He babbles mindlessly, letting himself go, not caring who hears. You giggle, panting above him “Come on.. ahm.- handsome, you can let yourself go… g-go- go ahead baby..” Your nails dig into his shoulders, driving him crazy.
Your orgasm comes to you quickly, having already been pent up today, just not showing it.
“Mhng- c’mmon - ah-ah-fuckfuckk ple-ase c-um with m- ba-baby…” Lucifer begs, his peak approaching rapidly.
After a couple moments he arches, and you squeeze your eyes shut as you two climax together. Shuddering above him, you look down to see him absolutely fucked out.
You smirk, taking a couple deep breathes. “Come.. on pretty boy, you can take more.” You say, before you begin to bounce again…
———————————————————————
A/N: I have a bit of writers block hehe, so this took me so long to get out and I apologize! But I hope you still enjoyed! I will be working on the other requests in my inbox now so If you requested I will be working on it soon, because I am on a basis where I go in order of when it has been sent in.
REQUESTS ARE OPEN
#hazbin hotel#hazbin#hazbin lucifer#lucifer morningstar#lucifer magne#hazbin hotel lucifer#lucifer x reader#lucifer x reader smut#hazbin hotel Lucifer x reader smut#hazbin hotel Lucifer x reader#hazbin hotel x reader#hazbin hotel x reader smut#hazbin hotel smut#dom reader
953 notes
·
View notes
Text
between us — johnny suh
title: between us
pairing: professor!johnny x lawyer!oc x fem!reader | husband!johnny x wife!oc x fem!reader
summary: you find yourself tangled in the life of the Suhs after Mr. Suh starts working as an English professor at your father’s university. You don’t understand why they float around you so much, but soon enough, you can’t get enough of that secret, dirty game anymore.
genre: smut, fluff, plot, mxfxf, married couple, established relationship, age gap, bisexual characters, aged up johnny (to his early 30)
warnings: age gap, daddy/mommy issues, smut, sexual tension, 3some, mxfxf, dom/sub dynamics, mdom, fdom(oc), fsub(reader), mentions of s*x toys, unprotected s*x, pet names (honey, babe, doll...), or*l s*x (reader receiving and fem giving), fing*ring (reader receiving and fem giving), n!pple play, dirty talk, praise, minor degradation, size k!nk, 1 face slap, 1 *ss slap, 1 cl!t slap, hair pulling, talks of face f*cking, dp and face sitting, sub space, overstimulation, reader goes non-verbal at the end, aftercare | inclusivity notes: reader’s hair can be grabbed bc i’m degenerated and needed to write hair pulling during or*l, there are no descriptions of the texture and type tho, reader wears hair in different hairstyles (not specified), reader feels small because she’s shorter than them and in general feels ‘intimidated’ (body type is not specified), no use of y/n
visuals
wc: 16.590k
a/n: i’m sure this isn’t what people were expecting when i talked about writing mxfxf, but what can i say, this idea came to me and i had to write it. at first, it was supposed to be less complicated, just hot steamy sex with two hot almost-dilf-and-milf but you know me by now, if it’s not deep and complicated we don’t write it here. disclaimer: they are all bi and this is not just a straight couple using a bisexual person to spice up their s*xual life, i can’t say more because i don’t want to spoil anything but i just wanted to make this clear. i hope you’ll enjoy, if you do please leave feedback with asks or reblog (so the story reaches more people) also this is the first time i write smut between two women so please let me know if it’s good!! love u ♡
The Suhs are by now a known presence in your life. Since Mr. Suh started teaching at your father’s university, it became almost impossible to not see him for more than two days straight.
You don’t feel like blaming your father. Actually, you get it. Mr. Suh is a charming, brilliant man in his early thirties. After years of studying and being an assistant, he started teaching English literature at another prestigious university, the one your father is president of. And in his free time —and you wonder how he did that— he even wrote a few books, the first ones being analyses of writers’ works, and then a successful mystery novel.
You like him, even if he intimidates you a bit. He’s a person you can have interesting conversations with, maybe too interesting. You can’t understand what hides behind his elegant attire; either suits and ties or brown pants and polos or vests, his brown hair is always pulled back, only occasionally some loose strands fall on his forehead and make him appear less put together. You don’t think you’ve ever seen him dressed casually, or crack a joke, but then again, it’s not really your place to know.
But Mr. Suh, also known as Johnny, is never alone when he comes to your parents’ house, or tags along at dinners, parties, and more, anything that your father likes to organize with his academic clique.
His wife, Aaliyah Taylor Suh, is always with him. She’s not less interesting or intimidating than him. Mrs. Suh is a drop-dead gorgeous woman in her early thirties like her husband. She’s an amazing lawyer, working at one of the top firms in the city, and probably that’s also why she comes off as piercing to you, it’s like she always knows what to say and do, and you struggle to keep up. And just like her husband, it’s also in the way she presents herself; she’s always perfect with her long goddess braids that reach her waist which is always perfectly hugged by the beautiful, expensive suits or dresses she wears.
This should pretty much sum up why you don’t talk much with them, even if they’re nice —at least it seems from the few conversations you had— you don’t feel at their level. Not only do they look like gods in your eyes, but they also fit the perfect stereotype of the rich, powerful couple that makes heads turn around every time they walk into a room —yours included— and the small, yet significant, age gap only makes it worse.
It would be easier to talk with them if your father wouldn’t constantly remind you that. He always had a passion to turn you and your dreams down, but since they are part of your life, it only worsened. Your father never misses the occasion to point your flaws out; how clumsy you are, walking around and stumbling on your own feet, dropping things every now and then, and messing up your words during speeches. Instead, he’s amazed by their brains and how quickly they became successful, they spent years on books and still never lost each other and found time to get married, they accomplished everything you haven’t, and it seems impossible for him to not slam it in your face.
And you agree, partially. You envy them. They seem to always be at the right place, at the right time, never saying a word wrong, and always looking straight out of Vogue. You’re also jealous of their love, you don’t know what a stable relationship looks like —not that you care to know, nobody your age seems to be doing it for you— unlike their stable, lasting marriage that is the deal closing off a just as long period of dating. They were high-school sweethearts, and you envy the way they still look at each other. Nobody ever looked at you like that, as if you meant the world to them. And you don’t understand how they survived all these years, you almost went insane during college, the two relationships you tried to have failed like a ship sinking in a storm. And now that you’re free, you’re still suffering the aftermath of all the stress you’ve been through.
So you struggle to understand why they circle around you like moths to a flame.
It all started months ago. At first, it was only longing gazes, you could always feel them on you, and you always thought that there was something wrong with you; your make-up smudged, your hair out of place, your clothes dirty or crumpled up, but, even if you weren’t like them, there was nothing wrong with you.
Then, one night, things started to make more sense.
It was late, around 10 pm. As much as you couldn’t stand your father, you tried to tag along as much as possible to find some connections career-wise. You could’ve asked him a favour —doubting he would do it— but you had no intention of making him take credit for your future. You preferred talking with his academic friends or critics on your own, it hadn’t been successful yet, but you won’t give up.
You were standing in the kitchen, a glass in hand as you tried to drown in the alcohol and forget every word you had heard from your father when Mr. Suh approached you first.
“Tiring, isn’t it?” Mr. Suh’s voice brought you back to reality. His build, tall form leaning against the fridge as he stared at you with a small smirk on his face, his hair was falling a bit more freely since the gel had given up after the whole night —day, you’d dare to say, you’re not so sure he had time to go back home and get ready for this dinner again.
You tried not to get lost in his beauty and swiftly hummed, nodding. “Yeah, but at least the wine is good.”
Mr. Suh snickered, starting to walk over to you, a hand in his hair as he shook it back. “Pinot?”
Your eyes moved up in his, he was standing so close you could feel his breath hit your face, and you struggled to find the words. Throat dry and hands so sweaty you were sure you would’ve dropped the glass on the ground. “Yeah, Pinot, or at least, I think so,” you mumbled, giggling awkwardly as you looked down and took a step back, trying to put some distance between you two.
“Can I have a taste?” He asked, tilting his head to the side, his piercing gaze staring right into your soul.
You should’ve told him that surely there were some glasses left outside, or maybe opted to take a look in the wine rack behind him, but you didn’t, and your hand moved to his almost right away.
You watched him smile in a ‘thank you,’ before his lips met the glass, alcohol pouring down his throat, a bit too messily for his usual put-together act, a drop dripping on his chin against his tan skin.
Mr. Suh smiled, humming happily as he handed the —almost empty— glass back to you. “As imagined, my favourite,” he winked.
“Oh, good — good. I — I like it too,” you slurred, panicking and feeling so small. And guilty because something about all of this felt so wrong and dirty and you immediately thought of Mrs. Taylor. Was Johnny flirting or were you too horny to think straight? They were a perfect couple, they couldn’t be cheating, right?
So, you scrolled your head, and said goodbye to him, quickly walking out of the room with the excuse ‘you were sure your father was looking for you’ but in reality, you just needed a breath of fresh air.
Unfortunately, it didn’t stop there. You would find yourself alone with Mr. Suh more than you wished to, and he was always so subtle with everything that you started to think you were going insane. He couldn’t have possibly brushed his hand against yours as he walked by your side to go to his wife, right? And he couldn’t have willingly rested a hand on your lower back when he walked behind you, trying to make way to get to your father? And why would he call you ‘honey’ with that sweet, intoxicating, slightly condescending tone, and only when you two were alone? His voice was always sensual, but you could swear it would drop even lower when he had you alone in the kitchen or in the library you spent some much time in, lecturing you about some poem or book, watching as you hung from his lips.
Anyway, you thought you could deal with it, you would only see him when your dad invited them, and even if it was a lot, you could stick with your mother —a slightly more likeable presence to you that wasn’t best friend with the Suhs.
Things worsened when Mrs. Suh started talking to you. The first, serious, conversation was about a pretty boring thing, some case she was working on. But there was something in the way she talked to you, laughing as she dismissed the conversation and simply stared into your eyes before asking to talk about yourself. Unlike her husband, she was curious, almost as if she wanted to get deep into you and discover things you probably didn’t even know about yourself.
And you froze. You had nothing to say. Everything that came to your mind was either too boring or too wild to be known to her.
“So? Too many secrets to hide?” She joked, showing you her pearly white teeth before winking.
“No, uhm,” you mumbled, trying to find the words, but losing them again when your eyes fell on her hands, golden jewellery shining on her fingers as they wrapped around the flute so delicately and yet sensually before she brought the glass to her full lips tinted with dark purple. Your head snapped up, trying to control your breath and not show the erratic movements of your chest, and squeezing your thighs together for some reason. “I’m working. Yes, busy working and trying to survive my dad.” Busy. You wrote for a small magazine online that paid you dust; reason why you were back living with your parents and kept writing your book, hoping to finish it and publish it one day and get the chance to be as far as possible from that house.
She smirked, and you could see it wasn’t because she was happy with your answer but almost as if she was having the time of her life at the way you were acting. “So, work and dad make you, you?”
“No,” you replied right away, slightly offended too. “I thought we were talking about… about things… happening now.”
A low chuckle rolled out of her lips, “I’d love to get to know you better, you know? Your family is so outgoing, they can’t keep anything in, but you…” she paused, eyes looking at you up and down, “you’re so secretive, reserved, like a candy to unwrap.”
You gulped, fearing she had the wrong idea about you and her husband and was planning a way to kill you. Aaliyah wasn’t stupid, of course she had seen the way Johnny talked to you and, worse, the way you reacted. She was also a lawyer, a brilliant one, you doubt some of her clients were even innocent and yet they got away with everything, she could stand up for herself in court, and Johnny would find a poetic way to get rid of your body and turn this into the plot of his next success.
“I… I…”
“You should spend some time with us,” she said, smiling, crossing her legs and moving her braids behind, showing her cleavage, “you know, at our place, alone. No family getting in the way, no father painting you bad. Just adults having fun.”
“Oh,” you gasped, gulping as you felt the air in your lungs disappear. “Sure, I’d love to.” But the truth is, you wouldn’t survive being alone with them.
“Beautiful dress, by the way,” she complimented, getting up and walking past you, “shows all the right curves.”
That was the start of everything. Unfortunately, she had no intention of killing you. Instead, she seemed genuinely interested in getting to know you better, saving you from your father by engaging in conversations with you when you were all at the same table, asking what you liked, and mostly, complimenting you. At first, it could’ve been mistaken for a ‘girls support girls’ kind of moment, but quickly you started to perceive something else. Her looks, her touches and her words weren’t any different than Mr. Suh’s ones, so lingering, so secretive, and teasing, feeling like a breeze that taunts your skin with a sense of relief that’s never meant to come.
Two months have passed since that moment, and your plans of keeping the distance crumble apart when you find yourself alone with them.
It’s not the first time, but you feel today might be more difficult to deal with. Your father is stuck with an idea of you from when you were five years old and in constant need of supervision, or else you can’t explain why he almost treats them as your babysitters.
‘We’ll be out today, look after her,’ these are the words your father exclaims before walking out of the Villa he owned on this lake abandoned by God, your mother already at the car parked in the driveway.
You’re not a child but you surely act like one, rolling your eyes and letting out a loud grunt before puffing out air.
Mr. Suh laughs, humming lowly before turning to you. “You’re still a child in his eyes, aren’t you? His sweet, innocent, little baby.”
That comment shouldn’t have had any effect on you, yet, it does. It feels like he is implying something else, it’s clear in his tone and especially his eyes. But you shake it off, laughing before replying ‘yes,’ and then running up the stairs with a faint goodbye. You hear Mrs. Taylor say something, probably asking you to stay, but you pretend you don’t hear and disappear into your room.
You can avoid them only for so long before you don’t know what to do anymore and decide to go downstairs —terrible decision.
You think they left, so you walk outside to read a book under the porch and enjoy a cold lemonade, but when you step into the garden you see them by the pool.
Aaliyah is laughing tenderly at Johnny who’s dancing on the trampoline, winking at her before jumping in the pool, splashing water around, making her turn around and cover her face more with the large floppy hat she’s wearing.
You feel like dying, this is not how you want to see them, and you have to force your eyes up, not making them fall on her ass. You’re still in time to go back, just one step behind and you can go upstairs as if nothing happened, but you’re not quick enough.
“Hey,” Mr. Suh greets you. “We were hoping you would join us,” he smiles at you, walking out of the pool by the stairs, scrolling the water out of his hair before pushing it behind.
You gulp, which is the only thing you can do to try to water your throat —and more embarrassingly, don’t moan at the sight of his sculpted body. And then you smile, a tight forced smile as you still stand like a statue. “Oh, I won’t join you, I just wanted to read.”
Mrs. Suh snickers and you watch her turn around to stand out of the pool, strong arms lifting her body up —and only now you realize that she’s pretty ripped too, the soft curves complimented by the signed abs, toned arms, and thighs.
“You go to the gym together?” Dumbly slips out of your mouth and by the time you cover it with your hands it’s already too late, but the comment makes them smile.
“You pay attention to details, don’t you?” She asks, clicking her tongue and smirking. She then takes the hat off, letting the braids fall on her back before she sits on the round table, pulling a chair out to gesture you to take a seat. “And I don’t train as much as he does, prefer pilates actually.”
“Oh,” you reply, momentarily bringing your attention to Johnny who’s now sitting on the other chair, leaving you the seat in the middle. “Heard is good for the body, nice choice.”
“Are you going to sit, or do we have to drag you here?” Mr. Suh jokes, head pointing at the empty space between them.
You shake your head, looking down as you take a deep breath and force your legs to work. You can do that, you just have to sit in the middle of the hottest couple you’ve ever laid eyes on and that for some reason loves to tease you, you’ll be fine.
“See, it wasn’t that hard,” she says when your ass touches the chair, book and lemonade resting in front of you on the round table.
“So, enjoying your break?” Johnny asks and then throws his hair back to scroll some more water out, but that makes you lose your focus and gulp nervously.
“Yeah, needed a vacation. Would be better if it wasn’t with my father,” you add, looking down.
She chuckles. “You two really don’t get along. Poor thing, he doesn’t get you, does he?”
You hesitate to reply, 1) you don’t get if she’s mocking you and 2) you wouldn’t care because the way she called you poor thing makes you feel things.
“He thinks I’m a child. I mean, he treats you like babysitters, I’m an adult,” you reply when your brain starts working again, and sadness fills your expression.
“Sure you are,” Johnny adds, chuckling, and you frown. “Sorry, it’s just funny that when you get mad at him, you act a bit childlike. Teenagers-like, if it makes you feel better.”
You sigh, frowning as you stare at him. “You think I’m stupid?”
“What?” He asks, brows raising.
“You think I’m as stupid as he thinks I am? Because the way he talks about me would make anybody think I’m this clueless, hopeless, dumb woman who has no idea what she’s doing with her life.”
Aaliyah chuckles tenderly, “Honey, you’re smart. Johnny can’t quite shut up about you after you two talk. He loves your takes on authors and the way you write, says he would love to have you work with him somehow.”
You almost stop breathing. He talks about you to his wife? He remembers what you say during your conversation or when you talk about what you write? Damn, you doubt people even listen to you.
“Oh, thanks,” yet, this is the only thing you mumble, and it’s fine like this. Anything else coming from your mouth could dangerously be a squeal.
“Anyway,” she says, leaning closer, making you move back and hold your breath, only to damn yourself when her fingers brush on your skin to wipe away something that dropped on you with the wind, “your dad’s not here now, why don’t you join us by the pool and stop stressing about him?”
You smile but shake your head. “No, it’s fine, I’ll stay here.”
“Are you sure? The water is perfect,” Johnny adds, standing up and towering over you. “Couldn’t convince my sweet wife to jump in but maybe you’re braver than her,” he winks, and you don’t have the courage to turn around and see if she saw.
“Oh…” you whisper and then look at the pool. If only he knew the problem wasn’t the water, you wouldn’t think twice about jumping in.
“Oh, come on,” Mrs. Suh pleads, and before you can realize it, her hands are wrapped around your wrist. This is the first time she touches you, not a caress, not a tease, but a firm hold on you, and it shouldn’t send shivers down your spine, but it does. Her fingers are slim and soft, and you find yourself wishing you could feel them more, preferably somewhere else on your body.
“Wait,” you try to retort, but you have no choice. She’s dragging you to the edge of the pool and Johnny is walking right behind you, you’d be trapped either way.
“Here,” she says, coming to a stop when you reach the border of the pool. “Much better than sipping lemonade while reading a book all alone, right?”
“I don’t have a bikini,” you say, only now realizing you didn’t go downstairs for that.
“Are you wearing lace?” Johnny asks, walking so close that you can feel the heat of his body.
“Wh-why do you care?”
“Dummy,” he chuckles, “if you’re not, you can jump in anyway, it won’t ruin the lingerie.”
“Oh, of course, yeah, of course,” you mumble, looking away to don’t show how embarrassed you are. But their laughs —even if lighthearted— don’t help you at all, and you still feel trapped between them. “No, by the way, I have no reason to wear lace,” you add, trying to fill the silence.
“Really?” Aaliyah asks, tilting her head to the side. You turn around, facing the pool so you can look at them both —and fool yourself you have a way out now that your back is free.
“Well, yes… I’m… I’m not really people’s type,” you mutter, torturing the inside of your cheeks and your fingers.
Johnny snickers, “Weird, you look exactly like —” he doesn’t finish though, and you barely see the glance his wife gives him to stop him. “I’m sure you are someone’s type.”
You nod, but your brain is slowly melting, from the weather, from their closeness, and now because you can’t understand why she stopped him and what he truly wanted to say.
“Undress,” she says resolutely, and you’re brought back to earth, staring at her with wide eyes. “To swim… remember?” she finishes, head tilted to the side and a mocking smirk on her face. You know she’s having the time of her life watching you panic, you’re giving it all way, from the way your breath falters to the way your chest heavies.
“Sure, to swim,” you repeat but it’s more to ground yourself. You hope the water is freezing cold, so maybe your body can cool down, and so can your thoughts. You quickly lift your dress over your shoulders and by the time you can see again, you see them in the water, standing right in front of you, leaning against the other side of the pool.
“Are you coming?” Johnny asks, voice raspy but clear.
You hum, kneeling down, feeling the water with your hand. It’s not cold enough to calm you down and to make you take time, you have to jump in. So, you do. It’s not too deep and you can walk to them.
“It’s nice, isn’t it?” Aaliyah voices out, deeply breathing in the air and moving her fingers in abstract figures on the surface.
“Yeah. I…” you look down, watching your bra and how little it covers, the damp fabric highlighting your hard nipples even more.
“Shy?” It rolls from her tongue like venom, so sweet yet poisonous as her eyes lock in yours.
“No, no,” you laugh awkwardly. “Why would I?”
“We wouldn’t blame you, we can come off as quite intimidating at times,” Johnny says, the corner of his lips twitching in a smirk before it relaxes.
“You don’t intimidate me,” you lie, chuckling and crossing your arms on your chest.
She laughs. “My nipples are hard too, babe. It’s the cold,” she reassures you with a smile, but you don’t feel better. You’re not so sure it’s only the cold, you think they became this hard a few minutes ago when you were practically sandwiched between them.
“Why did you come here?” You ask out of nowhere, and their expressions change. “I’m sorry, it’s not like I don’t want you here,” you explain, “but you could do vacations on your own and don’t have to suffer through my father, so I don’t understand.”
“Thought we said not to talk about him?” She says, raising a brow.
“Well, I want to talk about you. You two have it all, you’re rich, powerful, smart, in love, and yet, you…” you float around me, always, constantly, “...you spend so little time together.”
Mr. Suh laughs, his head rolling back for a second. “We’re always together. I come home to her, not your father,” he jokes and she laughs, nodding in agreement.
“Also, this might not be the only vacation we will do this year. We always go to Santorini in September before Uni starts,” she adds.
You hum, biting the inside of your cheek.
“But let’s talk about you,” she says. “Why are you here? Your brothers didn’t come.”
“My brothers can do whatever they want, I can’t.”
“Why?” This time Johnny is the one asking.
“I’d let him down,” you add, lowering your gaze because you don’t like the look of pity behind their eyes. “But I don’t want to think about him. You’re good at diving,” you change the subject, addressing Johnny, hoping it will be enough to move the focus from you.
“Thanks,” he replies, a proud smirk on his face.
“Don’t stroke his ego, he’s going to jump again and splash around,” she jokes, rolling her eyes.
“You’re already wet, so why would it be a problem?” He smirks, and then turns to you and winks, making you choke on your own saliva, but you try to cover it up with a fit of cough, something that makes the couple giggle under their breath more.
Aaliyah swims to you, pushing you back so Johnny can have space and maybe don’t drown you with his jump. Your skin is on fire as her hands place on your back as she guides you and you’re thankful your feet can touch because you can barely walk, so imagine swimming.
“He was in the swimming team in high school,” Aaliyah explains, covering her eyes from the sun with a hand and squeezing them so she can watch Johnny. You mimic her, humming at her words. “He was so good, I think I fell in love on the bleachers watching him swim.”
You chuckle tenderly and try to imagine a younger version of them, and you can almost see them. You wonder if their personalities were the same more than ten years ago, you wonder how they looked, you wonder if they would’ve ever imagined to still be here after so many years. But in any version you come up with, you still don’t fit. Actually, it makes you look like a stain even more.
“Your love is… strong,” you whisper when Johnny finally dives in and she cheers before bringing her attention to you.
“It is,” she agrees, a sweet smile showing her straight, white teeth, “even though weird things happen sometimes.”
You giggle, frowning. “Weird things?” Your voice is shaking, and you don’t want to connect the two dots that are so vivid in your head.
“What are you talking about? Praising me?” Mr. Suh asks, grinning, running a hand in his wet hair before hugging his wife from the back and kissing her cheek.
“Not about you, nothing impressive about that jump,” she jokes. “About us.”
“Us?”
She hums. “I was telling her how I fell in love with you, and she said our love is strong.”
You want to ask about the weird things, you want to ask so much more, but you don’t. And you simply stand there, watching Mr. Suh’s hands wrap around her body, feeling jealousy in the pit of your stomach.
The whole thing gets more intense as time passes by. You’re curious about them, as individuals and as a couple, and you can’t deny the tension anymore. Not tonight.
The three of you haven’t really spoken, mostly because you slipped away as soon as you crossed ways, and after a few tries, they stopped trying to approach you. But the buzzing chemistry is strong across the room.
You try not to look at them, you even try to engage in conversation with your father —when he’s not attached to Mr. Suh’s ass— and some of his other friends, but it’s useless. Your head always turns in their direction, it’s almost like a voice is luring you in.
You guess you look dumb from the outside, and you’re sure that if you looked at yourself in the mirror you would tell yourself to work on the way you stare at —almost strangers— with eyes filled with lust. You don’t want to, you don’t want to look at them, even less with that wide-eyed gaze and agape mouth, but you can’t help it.
“Honey,” your mother’s voice scoffs, “what are you doing?”
You perceive her scolding —disgusted— gaze on you and you cough, looking at her to be met with her judging eyes. Typical of your mother, usually you only get her looks with no need for words to be added.
“Sorry, I was zoned out,” you justify, chuckling awkwardly, but it only makes her frown more and sigh. “I’m a bit tired,” you lie, trying to fool her.
“Just don’t look weird,” she dismisses you with a wave of hand. “Not more than the usual,” she adds, leaving you alone.
You roll your eyes, scoffing loudly once you’re sure she’s out of sight and then start walking to the table with the drinks. You’re not sure adding alcohol to the picture will make it better but who knows, maybe ending up passed out next to a toilet is better than lusting over a married couple that is probably just messing with you.
It doesn’t work.
You blame it on the hard drinks your friends make you drink when you go out, your alcohol tolerance must be out of the roof by now, but it doesn’t matter because your biggest problem still stands.
Your problem is standing on the other side of the room now that you’re sitting on some couches with the fourth drink in hand. You shouldn’t feel like this, stomach upside down and a frown hardening your beautiful features while you look at them. But you can’t help it. Mr. Suh’s hand sitting at the side of Aaliyah’s waist, his thumb rubbing soft circles over the maroon dress she’s wearing. You can’t hear her laugh as her head rolls back before falling on his shoulder at something the person they are talking to is saying, but your brain replays the sound anyway, and you smile.
The beam on your face drops quickly when her eyes lock into yours, Johnny is not looking, busy paying attention to the person in front of them, but her gaze is on you. It’s piercing even with the distance between you and it takes your breath away. You should make this look normal, raise a hand and wave with a small smile before turning away, but you don’t. You’re stuck, like you always are around them, and the only thing that moves is your heart, pounding fast and violently in your chest as you watch her every move, one hand bringing a glass to her lips and the other meeting Johnny’s on her waist. You’d love to roll your eyes and huff ‘he’s yours, we get it,’ but you only feel a stinging pain in your heart, and a less painful one, well… somewhere else.
The spell breaks when she turns around, eyes on her husband and laughing again as if nothing happened, almost as if you’re not even in the room anymore.
Your shoulders drop, your breath gets normal again, and your head lowers. It’s not normal to feel like this, especially when it all feels like a mockery at times. You know there’s no space for you. You can’t be her and run your fingers in his hair without getting scowled at for ruining it. You can’t be her and kiss him on the lips and chuckle when he rubs your nose against yours. You can’t be her and see him in the comfort of when he wakes up or goes to bed.
But you play and play, and fool yourself you can, getting lost in those fantasies. You need a breath of fresh air.
Just like the alcohol, the minutes spent outside to cool your body and mind don’t work. When you go back to sit at your spot, you realize they’re sitting opposite to you. You’d leave again but you have no excuse, and it would become even more awkward now that your father sits next to you. But it’s fine, they’re talking again with someone else and you can focus on what your father is saying. Or maybe not, his conversation with another one of his intellectual friends is boring, nothing interesting comes from his mouth, just old, recurrent, wrong takes. You’d get in the conversation, just to feel something else that night and end up in a discussion with your dad because you need to prove him wrong, but your brain is somewhere else.
Once again, in front of you. Mrs. Suh is sitting on Johnny’s lap, somehow her back manages to stay straight even if she’s not resting against anything, her long legs are elegantly crossed by the ankle and one of her arms is wrapped around his shoulder. You recognize the person in front of them, Mr. Kim Doyoung, a math professor, and you question how they know each other but it gets swiped from your mind quickly.
You hate how close they are. Their touches so subtle and yet so loud making it feel like they’re rubbing it in your face. You hate how people look at them, with so much awe and affection, you feel like only you can look at them like that. And you feel stupid, it is stupid.
But then it happens again, this time it’s Mr. Suh the one looking at you. All the anger and jealousy fly away. Thousands of eyes on them, and he’s still looking at you. His wife is in his arms, and he’s still looking at you. Your father is at your side, and he’s still looking at you.
You gulp, shifting on the spot to try to get comfortable and stop the painful throbbing between your legs, but it’s impossible.
Mr. Suh’s lips flicker in a small smirk, and then his brow rises, there’s also a small raise of the cup he’s holding, and you immediately turn around, just to make sure your father is not looking. You can’t believe he’s so bold, flirting —or whatever he is doing— not only in a full room but with your dad by your side.
You should hate it, you should leave, maybe even confront him, but you don’t. You’re actually quite ashamed the whole thing turns you on. It’s hot, and taboo, and taboo but hot. And come on, you’ve been subtly flirting with a married couple, this shouldn’t be the worst thing, but it feels like it. Because your father worships them, everybody in that room praises them, wants to be like them, and thinks they only have eyes for each other, but they don’t, even if it’s only a naughty game, their eyes are on you.
It’s you.
Their eyes skim around the room playing hide and seek with yours. Their hands tickle your skin in secret. Their bodies speak to you.
The whole room fades in the background, all the tension, all the problems, gone.
It’s only you and them.
Eventually, you start spending more and more time at their place. You tell yourself it’s because they’re easygoing and you can easily escape from your house —to be more precise, from your father. But the truth is, you’re starting to enjoy them more and more.
You still feel out of place sometimes, but it quickly fades away when they notice their conversation push you out by quickly pulling you back in, making light jokes you can understand, or asking about your day. You realize Mrs. Taylor tends to pick up on you quicker than Mr. Suh, while he prefers to ease you with tender touches, and you wonder if he knows the effect they have on you.
You still don’t open up to them much, fearing that if they discovered more, they’d quickly stop giving you attention.
Attention.
That’s another thing you enjoy about being with them. You feel seen. Even if their chemistry is over the roof, they never leave you out, you’re not a tapestry with them. They listen to you, even if you don’t say much, even if you stumble on your words and only give them a small peek. They look at you with sweet smiles on their faces and hum interested, holding conversation with ease.
And shamefully, the thing you love the most, they pamper you. It’s not like you’re poor —even if you have decided to don’t ask for money from your father, some privileges from your wealthy family come anyway— but they still spoil you. Expensive dinners in places you honestly never even wanted to set foot inside. Expensive clothes you doubt you even have the occasion to wear. They even gifted you a Cartier necklace that you keep stored away as your most treasured possession.
But their attentions aren’t only economical, they spoil you with homemade dinners at their place, movie night on their couch, and something more…
You lost count by now of how many times they get you alone and flirt with you, teasing you, watching you get flustered, chuckling at the way your breath falters when their fingers brush your skin or hair. It’s like a dirty game, you are their dirty game. But you don’t hate it. You know they both know what they’re doing, but you love this secrecy, the way you’re their trophy in plain sight and yet a dirty secret they have to hide from each other. It makes you feel wanted, desperately wanted.
And soon enough, you find yourself playing that game, too.
You wear your best outfits when you pass by the University, skin-tight skirts or pants, and just as skimpy blouses or tops with the excuse to borrow books from the library and say hi. Your lips are tinted red for Mr. Suh when he asks you if you want to pass in his office to help him with some lectures, and brown for Mrs. Suh when you casually pass by her firm for lunch or after work. Your hair is always in different hairstyles until you start to stick with the ones you see they like the most. And slowly, you gain some confidence to flirt back.
Your remarks are subtle, and your gaze shies away when they hold eye contact and only giggle or smirk teasingly. But it’s something.
Or so you think.
One second, you’re confident, and the other you feel like you’re making the biggest mistake of your life. You start wondering if you’re pathetic in their eyes and are nothing more but a plaything for them to toy with and discharge when they’ll get tired of you. But nobody ever complimented you this much, calling you beautiful, caressing your face, loving the outfits you put together, and, most importantly, didn’t make you feel dumb. So it feels impossible to pull away from them. Even when your father starts getting mad at you about it.
He’s not dumb, and he has seen the way you and Mr. Suh sit in a corner and talk, he has seen that he greets you before anybody else —even before him— and he doesn’t like it.
“Johnny and Aaliyah have a beautiful relationship,” he starts, scolding you, “don’t try to screw it up, you’re not half of her worth.”
And that’s the first time you cry at night about it. You don’t want to listen to him, but you can’t help but question why they would choose you. Even if it’s just a game, even if it means nothing, you can’t find a reason why. You don’t know who started this first, but it’s not like it would be any different, they’re both hot, smart, talented and successful, and your father is right, you’re not half of her, or his, worth.
Yet, you can’t let it go.
If you know their townhouse by heart, you can’t say the same for their holiday house. It’s your first time being there after they invited you to their getaway weekend. You didn’t hesitate to say yes, pack your best things and leave.
You didn’t want to wander around but they left you all alone and didn’t show much of the house, so you took this opportunity to see a bit more.
The place is big; in the spacious hall, you’re met with the stairs once you enter, the big living room and on the right there’s the kitchen with a grand island in the middle and the table in front of the wide window. Farther down the corridor there’s a small bathroom and a room you couldn’t open. You’d like to go outside in the garden and chill next to the pool or under the porch, but it’s like upstairs is calling you.
On the first floor, there are the bedrooms and a studio. Your room —well, the guest room— is at the end of the corridor with a big bathroom next to it, while their room is at the end of the stairs, or so you guess.
You don’t want to pry, but curiosity’s got the best of you, especially after trying to open that room downstairs that won’t open. But you know you don’t want to find the keys to that room when you enter their bedroom —yes, you do, but that’s not the main thing.
Your lips part when you enter. It’s bigger than yours, with white walls and wide windows that let the light shine in making it seem even bigger. The big bed is against the wall that faces the door, and right next to the windows, there’s a small sitting room with a two-seat couch and two armchairs.
You should stop and don’t step further but you don’t listen to your brain.
On the wall in front of the bed, there’s a fireplace and on top of it there’s a television that takes half of the wall. At the sides, there are recessed shelves in the wall with books and elegant boxes, a lamp in front of it, and a lounge chair.
There are other lamps, all seem to be design pieces. Two long bedside tables that seem to be vanity desks of marble black. Some beautiful paintings are on the walls and you frown when you can’t recognize the artist, but they picture women and nature and you find them mesmerizing.
Then your eyes are caught by a rectangular red box placed against the wall at the side of the bed, it’s bigger than the bench at the end of the bed, and something about it screams at you to open it.
You shouldn’t, you feel like you’re invading their privacy —and well, you are— but you don’t stop.
You kneel in front of it, and a part of you hopes it’s locked somehow so that you can walk out of there and pretend nothing happened. But there’s no lock or key, you just have to lift the lid to see what’s inside.
Your lips part and a gasp comes out of your mouth when your eyes see what’s inside. You freeze. Close it and leave. Your brain screams, but you’re stuck, eyes blinking as you try to make sure you’re not making it all up.
“Oh my God,” you gasp, hand falling from the lid to shakily touch what’s inside. There are other boxes but, for now, you don’t care to open them and only grab what you can see. Handcuffs, blindfolds, what seem to be whips but they all have different shapes and you don’t get the differences, ropes and other items you can’t name. The closed boxes have labels on them, lingerie, anal, vibrators, and dildos.
Your hands grab one, opening it, inspecting what’s inside with surprise and curiosity, and then another, and another. To be honest, you don’t know why you are so shocked, you own some toys —a vibrator and a small dildo— but you’ve seen much more than that, and it shouldn’t be surprising that a couple like the Suhs have freaky, kinky sex. Yet, it’s overwhelming you.
You are so caught up looking into the box that you don’t hear the door open and Aaliyah stand behind you with just a rope wrapped around her body.
“Looking for something?”
One of the boxes falls from your hand when Mr. Suh’s voice resonates in the room and you jump around in fear.
You mumble no sense, starting to panic while your eyes dart around the room for an escape. There would be many, the room is all windows and you could easily jump off the balcony to put an end to how embarrassed you feel right now, but you can’t.
Their gazes are piercing you and pinning you down against the floor and a feeble “I’m sorry,” is all you can say before your throat goes completely dry.
They snicker, starting to walk over you and you take a step back, but almost fall into the box. You don’t, not because your brain started to work again, but because Mrs. Suh has her arms wrapped around you to keep you from being bent in half into that.
“Careful, you don’t want to hurt yourself,” she says, a veil of genuine concern and something else, a lot of something else, that you can’t decipher.
“I told you she was curious,” Johnny says, talking to her once she lets you go after she makes sure you can stand on your feet.
“I — I don’t know why I did that, I’m sorry,” you mumble, looking down and torturing your hands, but the toys abandoned on the floor only make you look outside. “I thought you were out.”
“I was,” Johnny says, “went buy something sweet for you. But it looks like you’ll get something sweeter tonight.”
Your brain panics, trying to assimilate everything they said to you. “You — you were home the entire time?”
She smirks. “Didn’t hear the water running?”
You sigh defeated, pressing your lips together and shaking your head.
Johnny chuckles before kneeling and talking to you again, “You’re lucky we didn’t want to use these on you tonight, I’m not really in the mood to clean them all up,” he says as he puts the dildos back in the box and set it aside, outside of the container so he remembers to clean them.
“On — on me?” You mumble still struggling to breathe.
Aaliyah hums. “All this teasing has to go somewhere, right?”
“I — I…” You — You… you wished this so much that now that is happening you don’t know how to feel anymore.
“You don’t want us?” Johnny asks with genuine care and your eyes widen, terrified they will get the wrong idea.
“No, I do, I do, but I don’t want to — I… I promise I’m not weird, I don’t even know why I came here, or why I opened that, it’s just so eye-catching, it’s red and nothing in this room is red, and…”
Your rant gets interrupted by two lips on yours. You don’t know who it is at first, eyes closed and brain and heart going off like sirens, running around with their non-existent hands in the air. But then an arm wraps around you and pulls you close, and you realize it’s her. It’s her soft yet firm touch, it’s her body against yours.
And then you’re trapped again, Johnny is behind you, and you feel small and powerless.
“We’re not mad at you, honey,” he says, fingers running against your neck as he moves your hair back, “we’re kinda glad you snooped around, we weren’t really sure how to initiate this.”
“Oh,” you gasp. “But I’m not weird, I’m not a stalker, I promise.”
“We know,” she stops you again, chuckling, “maybe you wanted to get caught. Johnny called your name when he was downstairs, you didn’t hear him?”
Your lips spread partially as you try to remember but you’re sure you didn’t hear his voice or the shower. “No, I… I think I was too caught in… into… well…”
They snicker.
“Naughty girl,” she mocks, gently cupping your chin. “Found something interesting?”
“Uhm, no…”
“No?” Johnny asks and you feel something against your bare thighs —wearing shorts was a bad idea. It has fringes and it tickles. “Not even this?”
You look down and see the black flogger in his hands and you gulp. “I never tried any of these before… I’m not even sure how some of these things can bring pleasure.”
Aaliyah chuckles, shaking her head. “Oh, babydoll, you’d be surprised.”
“You want to tie me?” You ask innocently and they laugh.
“Nah, seems a bit cruel for our first time, don’t you think?” Johnny says, hands wrapping around your stomach.
First time? There will be another one? You think but you don’t ask. You probably already look depraved enough to their eyes, you don’t want to make it worse.
“So, want to have fun with us?”
“Yeah…”
“Hesitating?” She questions, caressing your cheek to soothe you but her touch only makes your body buzz in excitation.
“No, I still don’t get why you would want me,” you whisper, diverting your gaze.
“Have you taken a look in the mirror?” He says, big hands caressing your waist and lips brushing against your neck.
You shake your head. “I still think I don’t fit between you…”
She grabs your chin, lifting your head. “Then why don’t you stop thinking tonight, mhh? We’ll give you a reason to believe why you do fit, instead?” Her hands grab yours and she places them on the tie of her robe, if your fingers move and you let it fall to the ground the whole night will bloom. The consequences could be tragic, tomorrow could be the worst day of your life, but tonight might be the best one.
You don’t hesitate anymore; you’re curious, you’re needy, and you badly want to be pressed between them and feel their skin against yours, so your fingers dance on the tie and pull the robe open.
Your lips part to let out a gasp when her naked body unreveals to your eyes, and you get lost in it. Your eyes move up and down, taking in her perky, round boobs, her darker nipples hardening at the cool air of the room, and then they go down, to her toned stomach you have already seen before until they reach her soft hips, you bite your lips when your eyes fall between her legs, perfectly trimmed black hair covering her most intimate part, and lastly on her soft thighs and long legs.
“You’re beautiful,” you breathe out, feeling you could collapse just from the view, and you start wondering if you can take Johnny too.
Her lips lift in a smile and her hands wander on your body where her husband’s hands are leaving your body untouched. You press your lips together to don’t moan already, it would be so humiliating to do so, but it’s almost as if they know.
“Don’t hold back,” Johnny whispers against your ear, shivers running down your spine. “We take pride in what we do, and want to hear you.”
You hum, nodding fast before you feel dizzy when he pushes your shorts down, his body lowering to accompany them on the floor, his hot breath hitting your exposed skin before his lips leave kisses on your thighs and ass.
Aaliyah is busy taking care of your top, lifting your arms to reveal your bare chest. Your first instinct is to cover yourself, but she stops you with a stern look and a “Don’t.” Her voice is sultry, sweet like honey and intoxicating, and you can only obey. “It’s not fair when I’m so bare at your eyes, don’t you think so?”
“Yes,” you manage to breathe out, and then turn your head to stare at Johnny, the only one who’s completely covered. You don’t say anything, but your eyes speak louder than any word. You’re basically imploring him to show himself to you, your eagerness is burning out of you, yet he mocks you with a smirk and then a scoff.
“Later, honey,” he chuckles, shaking his head. “Don’t be greedy. Too much on your plate, then you can’t chew.”
His wife snickers, pushing him back from you. “Follow me,” she says, giving you a reassuring smile before turning around and walking toward the bed.
You hesitate, looking back at Johnny, asking his permission, and when he nods, you still feel stuck there. You need a light push from him to start moving your feet and follow her on the Wyoming king bed.
“I didn’t think you would be so shy, doll,” she points out, watching you hesitantly climb on the bed and crawl to her.
“She’s not,” Johnny replies for you, “she’s just playing with us.”
You stop in your tracks, looking back at him, mumbling to come up with a reply. But you stop thinking when her chest presses against your back and she turns your head to kiss you. Her hand reaches out to call Johnny to join you, but you don’t think about him until you feel the bed bend with his weight and then his hands on your thighs.
“Or maybe she just needs to ease into us,” she suggests. You catch she’s telling him something, it’s a quick conversation with eyes and mouthed words; you don’t get it, but you don’t care to get it.
You trust them. And you like the thrill of being at their mercy with no idea of what they truly want to do with you.
So, you let them. You let them move you, shifting around you as their hands gently push you flat against the bed and their lips start tracing your shivering skin. You hate that Johnny is still dressed but that thought quickly leaves your mind —or better, doesn’t annoy you that much anymore— when his fingers hook on the band of your panties and pull them off.
You squirm, hiding your face against Aaliyah’s arms but they’re quick at reassuring you.
“Stop hiding away,” Johnny says, “you’re beautiful, honey.”
But your confidence it’s not the problem. You’ve never been the centre of attention, you never had two pairs of eyes, lips, and hands on you. You don’t know how to cope with all of this.
You gasp when her lips wrap around your hard nipple and she starts sucking. And you can’t control your hips when his hands brush against the apex of your thighs before lingering over your sensitive pussy.
“Can I taste you?” Johnny asks, softly caressing your skin.
“Yes, you can.” You’re already short on air as you watch him lower his head, his eyes intensely staring straight into yours, making you feel so small and yet so safe.
Your legs go weak as soon as his plump lips touch your sensitive clit, he’s only leaving delicate kisses on you and small kitten licks but that’s not the only stimulation you’re receiving, Aaliyah’s mouth and fingers lick and pinch on your sensitive nipples are not helping you calm down.
“Oh my god,” you curse, rolling your head back when he starts eating you out for real. Tongue working with precision from your leaking slit to your throbbing clit, not leaving a patch untouched. His hold on you is firm, big hands keeping you spread, massaging your skin to help you relax even more, but with no room for movement.
“Look at you,” she teases, pulling away from your boob to pay attention to your face, “so wrecked and we barely even started. You love the way my husband is eating you out?”
Your eyes open to meet hers, and you regret it right away, the intensity of her gaze making you feel something you’ve never felt before. Sure, she carried around an intimidating vibe, but that kind of aura disappeared as the months passed and you grew closer, but this, this is different. She is dominant and firm, yet somehow you can always find that veil of care that characterized her.
You try to answer, afraid not receiving a verbal response will disappoint her, but your throat lets out an embarrassing whimper followed by a broken moan.
She snickers, shaking her head, and caressing your cheeks so gently it feels like she’s mocking you. “I know, doll, I know, he’s good with his mouth.”
You cry out in embarrassment but your head rolls back when Johnny sucks harshly on your clit and his hands move down to keep your pussy spread.
“Taste so good,” he mumbles pressed against your skin, the vibrations driving you insane. “So wet for us, you wanted this so bad, didn’t you? Our desperate toy, we made you wait for so long.”
You’d love to scream that yes, this took too long, but nothing comes out of your mouth. You somehow find the strength to look up, much with the help of Aaliyah who places an arm under your head for support, and you feel your stomach tighten up at the view.
Johnny looks like a starving man, messily lapping at your aching pussy, devouring you with his face buried between your legs, nose pressed against your mound. He’s so caught up he probably doesn’t even realize he tugs you closer when his arms wrap around your thighs.
Your eyes shut down and for a moment the image of the usual him crosses your mind. There’s nothing of the composed, elegant, and polite man you know, that man that your father loves so much, the same man that if he saw him right now, would have a heart attack. But you quickly push him out of your mind. You have no other choice when Aaliyah’s fingers add to the mess between your legs, and you bite your lips so hard you almost bleed.
“Too much,” you cry out, looking for mercy in her eyes when she draws them from her husband and your cunt to your face.
“Too much?” She coos with a condescending tone. “You’re bucking your hips against his face and want me to believe it’s too much?”
You groan loudly, giving up as your head falls against the mattress again. Her arm is not there anymore as she’s using it to support her body to tease you, and your neck has no more strength to watch him have the time of his life between your thighs.
But you’re not the only one groaning; Johnny’s moaning too, getting drunk in your juices and falling into madness as he tries to ease the painful boner in his tight jeans, grinding against the mattress for comfort.
“You’re so hot you’re making him hump the mattress, babydoll,” she points out. “That’s the effect you have on him. Still doubt you’re not enough?”
You don’t, not right now, you don’t want to think about it. Still, you shake your head, earning a soft, pleased smile and a “Good girl.”
It makes your stomach tighten, your toes curl, and your hands clench around the sheets. “Johnny,” you whisper, keeping your mouth parted as you try to let more air in, it’s a beg for release but you can’t find the words to let it all out.
The way you moan his name, so shyly, so weakly, a bit for the pleasure, a bit because you feel like it doesn’t belong to you —God if he finds it endearing the way you still call them Mr. and Mrs. Suh sometimes— makes his heart pound and his dick ache. You’re so fragile in their hands, right now, in his. He had wished to have you like this for so long; since his wife first brought you up and he started to look at you in a different light. Every time you spoke your mind during dinners, coming up with something that was too smart for your father to comprehend until he proposed the same point of view, only changing a few things. You deserved to be lifted on the table and eaten out like this. And the more you two talked, or your hands brushed timidly, the more he felt addicted. He couldn’t stop thinking of you.
And that was crazy, because the only woman he ever had was his wife, and never he would’ve imagined he could feel so attracted to someone that wasn’t her. And yet, the three of you are here, in the same bed, in the same mess.
When you call out his name again, he snaps out of his thoughts and looks up at you, the eye contact makes your head spin and you hold onto Aaliyah’s wrists. You feel like the orgasm will make you fly away, but before that, Johnny will kill you with just one look.
“Please,” you cry out, begging to be spared, or maybe not, maybe begging to be ended, begging for the release, begging to reach the best orgasm of your life.
“Let go, honey, come in my mouth,” his deep, sultry voice is the final strike that sends you over the edge. Body convulsing in his hold as he keeps you down and keeps sucking and licking you, eagerly swallowing your sweet cum, and moaning vulgarly against your burning hot skin.
You feel dizzy and high, and your body slumps against the soft mattress when your first orgasm ends.
“Want to see you,” you cry out, trying to lift your body and reach for him, but your limbs quickly give up.
Aaliyah chuckles, and you turn to face her. “We need to work on your stamina.”
You pout as you justify yourself, “It was too good, and I haven’t come like this in — well, never.”
Johnny chuckles, smirking proudly before he stands up at the edge of the bed. “Want to see me, honey?”
You nod with enthusiasm, biting your lips as your heart thuds in excitement. Your eyes lock with his fingers that are moving way too slow on their way to unbutton the shirt. But after what feels like an eternity, the blouse meets the floor, leaving uncovered his toned chest, arms and beautiful tattoos adorning the skin of his shoulder. But it’s not like you haven’t seen that before.
“What?” You scream annoyed when she covers your view, standing on her knees between you and her husband, giggling at your disappointment.
“He needs a hand, baby,” she chuckles and you huff again. Of course, they would fuck with you some more.
Every sound drives you more insane; you bite the inside of your cheek when you hear the belt open, and your heels tap against the mattress when the zip comes down, lastly, you groan in disbelief when you hear his pants and belt hit the floor.
“Please,” you whine, closed fists slapping against the bed.
“Fine, greedy little thing,” Johnny chuckles, and so does she as they finally give you what you want.
Your eyes and lips widen, and you gulp. “Oh… wow…”
They laugh, it’s a soft sound that creates a beautiful harmony, and even if they’re making fun of you, it warms your heart. The next thing they do is crawl to you to kiss you.
It starts with a soft peck on your lips, their mouths on yours meeting almost shyly, and then it gets heated, teeth and tongue clashing together as all of you try to have a taste of each other.
“Don’t worry, you can take it,” she reassures, kissing your lips, hands travelling down your stomach until it reaches your throbbing clit and starts moving in circles, making you gasp against their lips.
“I don’t think I can,” you mumble, glossy eyes looking into his first and then moving to hers. “Maybe you should.”
“Oh, I do, trust me,” she replies, smirking before kissing your neck.
“Tonight is about you,” Johnny reminds you, doing the same as she’s doing but on the other side. “It will fit.”
“Mhh,” you mumble, feeling weak and overwhelmed.
“Let me make sure it will fit,” she sings happily, now taking the spot between your legs.
You moan against Johnny’s mouth when her finger pushes inside you, humming in delight as she feels how wet you are. You can’t see her, eyes closed as you get lost in the kiss, but just her presence is enough to make you tremble.
“Look at you, it’s so easy to turn you into a puddle,” she teases, watching as you can barely kiss Johnny back. Something about the kiss you and her husband are sharing makes her head spin. There’s something about you, something new, something they’ve never had before. You’re so delicate, like a flower, and your petals fall perfectly between them. Just like right now, she’s sure there’s nothing in your brain, and yet your lips follow Johnny’s, messily meeting him in that slow, yet passionate kiss.
Your body reacts so nicely to their hands running on your skin, cupping and groping at your soft boobs to stimulate you everywhere as she works the second finger inside of you. They are experts at what they’re doing, sending shivers all over your body and pushing you further down into that haze.
“You’re taking my fingers so well, you’re so eager to feel Johnny inside, aren’t you?”
You mumble a reply as you finally pull away from Johnny, a thread of spit still connecting your lips, but you don’t notice until he breaks it off. “Want to feel him.”
They snicker, and then their lips are on you; Johnny’s busy leaving pecks on your neck before he pays attention to your nipples, and Aaliyah is focused on kissing your inner thigh and tummy as her fingers still curl inside of you.
“I don’t think you’re ready, yet, pretty girl,” she hums, curling the tips up and hitting your sensitive spot. That action makes your hips buck from the mattress and causes a louder moan to slip through your tortured plump lips. “So wet, dripping all over my fingers. I bet you taste so good, maybe I’ll get a taste one day, uhm?”
You squeeze your eyes, uselessly trying to calm your breath, it’s pathetic how fast your chest is moving in erratic movements, and how your hips squirm to search for more, even if one of their hands is on your stomach to keep you in place. You don’t reply but you internally scream that yes, you want her. You want to feel her soft, full lips on you, you wonder if she’s eager like Johnny or more meticolous, if she moans loudly or keeps quiet. You don’t know, but the mere idea makes a growl roll from your lips.
“She’s good with her fingers, isn’t she?” Johnny’s deep voice hits your ear, and you feel your body melt. Your head moves quickly to agree as you turn to the side to face him. He’s staring at you with a sly smirk on his face and before you can stop him, you feel his long fingers on your clit. You bite back a moan and try to plead with your eyes but it’s useless. Neither of them wants to stop.
“What, princess? We have to make sure you’re ready to take my dick,” he whispers, shushing your senseless sounds with a kiss.
You bite his lips by mistake when she pushes a third finger inside, eyes wide both in surprise and in a silent apology to Johnny.
“Too much,” you cry out.
But she tsks, shaking her head. “You have to be all stretched out for him, doll. You don’t want to break, do you?”
You shake your head before it rolls back, and your face contorts more. You don’t want to break but you feel like you might explode from this alone. She’s incredibly skilled in what she’s doing, it’s like her fingers are pumping and curling following the rhythm of a melody only she can hear, they hit you deep and fast, not giving you time to recover from each profound push.
“Just a few pumps and then he’ll fuck you exactly like you want,” she encourages you, her dark brown eyes looking softly at you, curling up in a sweet smile.
It takes you less than a few pumps to come undone, you don’t even see the orgasm coming when it washes over you, knocking air out of your lungs. It’s her two fingers pumping into you, curling and scissoring, after she pulled the third out to move faster, it’s Johnny’s thumb on your clit, flicking it swiftly, and his lips on your nipple, sucking harshly. But mostly, it’s them, the warmth of their bodies wrapping around you, intoxicating you like a drug that takes its sweet time to kick in.
Your body shakes, trapped between the mattress and their big bodies, and you feel like the room is spinning around you.
“You come so easily,” she mocks, pulling her fingers out once she’s sure you’re done, and slapping your clit, making you hiss.
Easily. If that was nothing to her…
“Naughty girl,” Johnny scoffs, pulling away from you and you whine when their hot bodies are not on you anymore.
You sigh, thinking since when you’re so pathetic and needy? You truly can’t last more than ten seconds without having them all over you?
“If you were ours that wouldn’t have gone unpunished,” he says, settling between your legs and spreading them apart. You barely noticed them moving around, already too far gone to be aware of what is going on around you. His intense gaze makes you shiver and more cum oozes out of your already messy, wet cunt. Johnny takes a deep breath, getting lost in the sight of you, your face is wrecked, your lips parted, your eyes watery, your boobs are heaving, and your hips are moving around, pleading him to fuck you. “Fuck, you’re so beautiful, honey.”
The compliment makes your heart swell and you weakly smile back at him.
“Come on, fuck her already,” Aaliyah encourages him, pushing his hips closer as she stands at his side, “she deserves it.”
You gasp under your breath when his hands wrap around the back of your knees and, with a strong tug, he pulls your body against his, the tip of his dick slapping against your core. He moves one hand down to grab the base and pushes his cock against your slit, it feels like forever as he rubs his leaking tip against your clit and every now and then pushes against your opening that’s fluttering, begging him to fill you up already.
“Johnny,” Aaliyah scolds sternly, looking at him up and down, and her dominance at the moment makes you shiver and moan, shamelessly. You try to close your legs to hide the effect it had on you but they both push them open, and somehow, the way they’re not paying attention to you, eyes locked into each others, and still have you under control, makes you whine even louder. “Stop teasing her,” she orders, cupping his chin and pulling him closer. “Don’t you see how badly she wants you? Dripping on the sheets like a kitten in heat?”
You frown at her comment even if well, she’s right. You’re sure you’ve never been this wet your entire life.
“As you wish, milady,” he jokes and in a second, he’s inside of you.
“Fuck,” you scream at the stretch, even if he didn’t bottom in, you still feel like you can barely breathe. “Oh, shit.”
“Damn, honey, I’m not even halfway in,” he comments, stopping and looking at you with a worried face.
“No, I’m fine, I was — too caught up,” too caught up in you two and I barely remember my name.
Aaliyah snickers, shaking her head. “You’re so cute, doll,” she hums, caressing your thigh, “just relax and take him all, uhm? He’s going to fuck you so well,” she says before addressing her husband, “right, Johnny?”
Johnny nods, smirking playfully before sinking further until his entire length is in.
Your head rolls back while pleasure dissipates inside your body, he fills you perfectly, stretching you so nicely. You feared it was going to be more painful, but it feels so good, and the pairs of hands soothing your skin are helping you calm down.
Johnny pulls you closer, beginning to slowly move his hips, hissing under his breath while your walls flutter around him so nicely, your wet, warm hole welcoming him with ease now that you’re not tense anymore.
And then it happens, for the first time that night, they kiss. You bite your lips with force as your eyes bore holes in them. Their lips move on their own, doing what they have been doing for a life now, and their hands pull each other close. You’ve seen them in similar circumstances before, but this, this, is different. Johnny is kissing his wife while he’s buried deep inside of you, one hand on the small of her back, the other keeping you spread, her hand tangled in his long, brown locks and the other intertwined with yours at your side.
Everything is oddly romantic and erotic at the same time. Everything makes perfect sense and no sense at all. But it’s fine. Tonight, you don’t want to think, you don’t want to worry, you want to roll around in this mess of limbs and skin and feel. Feel alive and loved. Even if it might be an illusion.
“Fuck, baby,” they moan when they pull apart, giggling at the way they’re in sinch even if for different things. Their eyes are on you again and while Johnny praises how good you feel, she praises how well you’re taking him.
And your heart jumps around while a dumb, drunk-in-love smile plasters on your face. But it swiftly drops when she moves up again to whisper something in Johnny’s ear. You try to study his expression, something flickers in his eyes, and they darken even more, you even feel his dick twitch inside of you, but you can’t make out anything of what she says.
Then Johnny’s hips come to an alt, and your throat dries.
“We were thinking you got to come two times already,” he starts, licking his lips, “and while I’m having fun with you, you will agree we kinda neglected Aaliyah, right?”
You nod quickly, eyes moving between the couple in swift motions.
“So, what do you think about turning around and eating her out while I keep fucking you?”
It’s like your brain sparks up and shuts down at the same time at his words. You nod eagerly, mumbling ‘yes’ while a small, fucked out smile creeps on your face.
“You want me, baby?” She asks, voice slurring out of her lips like velvet.
“Yes, please, want you so bad,” you reply, body buzzing in excitement as you take her body in.
You don’t have time to complain when Johnny pulls out of you, he swiftly turns you around, strong arms moving you as if you’re nothing for him, and given all the weights he lifts at the gym, it is nothing. Your body moves on its own, ass perking up while your face lowers down, close to the soft, perfumed sheets but not enough that you can’t use your lips.
And there she is, resting against the headboard with her legs spread right in front of your face. Her pussy’s dripping, clit throbbing in anticipation, and you envy how good she has been to hold it back for so long.
And even if your eyes are curious and sparkle with lust, she can sense your hesitation. “Come on, don’t be shy,” she encourages you, one hand gently cupping the back of your head, massaging your scalp, “don’t tell me it’s your first time.”
Well… not exactly, but you weren’t a pro at this either.
“Oh, you’re always on the receiving end?” She snickers, looking down at you. Eyes piercing you, pinning you down in your place. She has this thing, it’s like magic, one look and you’re right where she wants you, how she wants you.
“Mostly…” you admit shyly, looking down again.
“Well, time to change that,” she says before pushing you against her pussy.
Your lips move shily at first, it’s almost as if you’re testing the ground. Kitten licks are all you give her, licking up her sweet cum while your nose rubs against her clit. You breathe deep, getting lost in her aroma.
“Fuck, baby, just like that,” she praises, hand still caressing you but not pressing you down. If it was somebody else —even Johnny— she wouldn’t have hesitated to do so, but with you, she wants to take it slow and guide you through it.
You moan against her when Johnny pushes in again, this time he doesn’t wait before his hips start slamming against you, but he’s not going too fast. And the pleasure he’s fucking into you urges you to do better. You try to do what Johnny did to you before and every other person you’ve been with, and be better than the other times you’ve eaten pussy before.
“Yes, pretty girl, focus on the clit,” she instructs you, moving her hand down to caress your neck, and when you comply, a deep guttural moan rips from her throat. She hums in delight and your heart flips with pride. “Use your tongue.”
You hesitately stick your pink muscle out and poke it at her entrance but she stops you with a click of her tongue, “No, doll, up and down, come on, you can do it.” When your tongue starts doing that, licking her from the bottom of her entrance to the top, flicking your tip right under the hood of her clit, her legs shake and she pushes down a hiss. “So, so good, babydoll.”
“Shit, you’re so hot,” Johnny moans behind you, his hands holding tightly to your waist as he fucks you on his dick. He never imagined he’d be so turned on by this, but fuck, this is the dream. Seeing his wife’s face while you pleasure her, hearing her moan because of somebody else mouth, especially yours, makes him feel something he never felt before.
“You’re so good, doll. Such a fast learner, aren’t you? So eager to please us. So eager to be a good girl for us,” she moans, her fingers inevitably clenching around the roots of your hair when you suck hard on her clit. You seem to have found your scheme, keeping her pussy spread while your tongue runs on her labia and then your lips wrap around her clit, swift flicks of your tongue and shy hands testing what’s better.
You nod against her without pulling away, you could, but you don’t want to. You want to get drunk in her juices, you want to feel her thighs clench around your head —even if she’s trying hard not to do so— you want to hear her deep, intoxicating moans, you want her to pull your hair harder.
“Yes, you are,” she coos, meeting your half-lidded eyes, pushing down a guttural moan when a lonely tear rolls down your cheek, “you’re such a greedy little thing. One person it’s not enough for you, you need more. Is this enough or do you need even more, ugh? Bet you’d love it if we both fucked you at the same time.” Her condescending tone sends your brain into a spiral, you feel empty and yet overflowing, but you can’t reply. Johnny’s fucking you mercilessly now, big dick hitting you deep, striking all the right spots, and even if you’re giving something to her, you have zero control. You’re at their mercy, small and powerless, flushed between their bodies as you somehow do something like a robot.
“Loving eating her pussy while I fuck you hard?” This time is Johnny the one teasing you, his voice deeper but he gives no sign of slowing down, even if the pleasure is getting to him, you know it from his grunts and the way his hips falter every now and then. “Bet it feels so good to be muddy in our hands and have no worries in the world, right? You’re perfect here, nobody to impress,” he moans, leaning closer, his lips brushing your ear while his body presses you closer against the bed, “no father to make happy. Just us. Honestly,” he groans, pulling back, squeezing your hips before driving all the way in with a decisive thrust, sending you forward, “he’d have a heart attack if he saw you like this.”
You whine, your laments muffled by Aaliyah’s body, and you feel like you could explode. Is this why you like being with them so much? Because the fact that they like you so much proves your father wrong? The very people that he worships are busy worshipping his daughter while he trashes her around. But you don’t want to think of him, one, it could ruin your orgasm, two, you have them, and that’s all that matters. And to be honest, you love being with them so much because they value you and appreciate you for who you truly are.
You pull away, letting your fingers take the place of your mouth, rubbing on her clit while you talk, “want you, want more, please.”
“More? What’s more than this?” Johnny asks, snickering.
“Sit on my face?” You ask shily while you look up at her, cum and spit dripping down your chin, eyes glossy with tears.
She loses herself in the sight of you. You’re perfect even if you look like a mess, even if your eyes roll back and your lips part open when Johnny hits your sweet spot another time. “Oh… let’s not pull your luck too much tonight, hum?”
“But I —”
“But you, nothing,” she shushes you up, two fingers on your mouth. “You’re being so good, giving me pleasure while you take him so well. Just keep going.” She’d love to sit on your face, only being able to watch your eyes slowly blank as her hips roll against you, while your pretty hands wrap around her thighs as it slowly gets harder to breathe, but you’re not ready for that, yet.
You give up, starting where you stopped. But soon enough you’re whining again, “No, please, please, Sir,” you cry out, looking back to meet Johnny’s gaze for a split second.
He seems a bit startled by the way you address him, but he quickly shakes the surprise off to tease you with a condescending tone. “What’s wrong, honey? I thought you wanted more?” The pout that accompanies his words makes your stomach twist in a knot. You did want more, but the more was being smashed underneath them, not having his skilled fingers rub quick circles on your over-sensitive clit.
“I — I don’t want to come again,” you cry out.
“Oh, you won’t,” she speaks instead. “Don’t get too greedy and take it,” she orders, cupping your chin before pushing you between her legs again. Her patience could only last this long before she would snap.
“Right, because you can take it, right?” Johnny asks, tilting his head to get a peak of your flustered face. You’re burning up, sweat pearling your skin, the shorter hair sticking to your forehead, eyes blinking out tears of pleasure, and body squirming while you try so hard to keep focus on the only thing you have to do.
You doubt you can, but you still nod, moans getting choked up in your throat and against her cunt as you try to use your tongue and mouth the best you can even if control is slipping out of you more and more.
Fighting the orgasm is probably worse than keeping focus. Your stomach is upside down, and you feel all your nerves tense up, every single touch makes you jolt up and you know your throat will be sore by the end of the night for all the moans you’re letting out.
And you slip, eyes closing and mouth getting lazy as your body limply gets slammed between them.
“Hey,” you’re startled when her palm meets your face in quick, light slaps to wake you up, “don’t you fucking dare,” it’s the only warning that slips from her mouth, so sternly it should make you obey on the spot, but it only makes it harder for you to hold back. “Put that mouth to good use, come on.”
You don’t have a choice —not that you would want to do anything else— when she forces your face down again, this time grinding her hips against you to help you out, or honestly, to fuck herself against you because you’re not doing so much anymore.
She scoffs, “You’re being so good for Johnny, bet your pussy is sucking him in so well, dripping down to his balls and clenching tight, you can’t do one thing for me?”
You gasp for air when she yanks you back by the end of your hair, letting you breathe again, watching the tears fall freely from your pretty eyes. Your lashes are clumped together, and some mascara stained your cheeks; so, so pretty, she could stare at you forever.
“I can. I — I promise, I’ll be your good girl, I’ll give you what you want, fuck,” you mumble, words tangling on your tongue.
You’re so fucked out that spit is dripping down your chin, mixing with her cum, and she can’t fight the urge to smear it on your face.
Aaliyah could come by that sight only. To think when she first saw you were shily standing in a corner, trying to have less attention possible on you, stuttering your words at the speech your father made you hold, and almost fell down the stage. And now, you’re a mess in their bed, far away from home after you followed them blindly.
“Good, then use your fingers, come on,” she orders, biting her lips as you struggle to push your body up to finger her. This is exciting, with Johnny it had always been a fight for dominance, but with you, everything works perfectly, you fit between them with ease.
Johnny’s hands help you stand up, but he can’t deny how hot he finds the way you can’t control your body. He wishes he could see your face, you must be so pretty all messed up, but he’ll use his imagination.
“Come on, honey, fuck her, she took such good care of you,” Johnny encourages you, and that’s all you need to push two fingers inside of her. Her warm walls welcome you with ease, cum coating them until it drips down on your wrist.
Aaliyah’s face twists in an expression of pleasure as soon as you start curling your fingers. You’re definitely better with them than you are with your mouth, but it’s fine, there will be time to practice if you ever want to stick around.
“Good girl,” she praises, caressing your cheek gently before pulling you in a kiss. Doing so, Johnny slips out of you, and you whine at the loss, but soon enough he’s fucking into you again.
“Won’t — won’t last long,” you whimper, crying more as you feel heavier.
Johnny hums, pushing you down again and you lazily go back to lapping on her pussy while your fingers keep moving.
“Come here,” you hear him say, but he’s not talking to you. You can’t see, but you know they’re kissing because you feel smaller and more trapped as their bodies get closer, and then the wet sounds of their lips hit your ears. Their moans mix in their mouth, and you can feel the desperation they’re sharing as their teeth clash together.
You want to kiss them too, but you have other things to worry about, like the orgasm you can’t hold in anymore.
“Want to come, please,” you beg, tears adding to the mess between her legs as you try to gasp for more air.
They pull away from the kiss, bringing their attention to you another time.
“You want to come?” You nod swiftly. She’s sure you’re not doing it on purpose but the way your big eyes are looking up at her and your lips tremble, make her heart warm up. You’re so precious. “Then don’t stop fucking me,” she orders, voice low that causes your stomach to twist again. “Don’t stop being a perfect, little, mindless fuckdoll for us.”
Johnny growls, rolling his head back, “Fuck, stop talking to her like that, she’s squeezing me.”
Aaliyah chuckles darkly, sweetly mockingly caressing your wet cheeks. “You want me to stop talking to her because you can’t handle a sweet pussy sucking you in?”
He rolls his eyes and throws his head back, scoffing at her comment.
“It’s not my fault she likes it when I talk down to her,” she coos, looking at him but her words hit you deep. It’s so humiliating the way they’re talking about you as if you’re not here, and yet, it only makes you wetter. “I could do so much more, but I doubt she can take it.”
I can. You scream, but it stays inside your brain, no words can come out of your mouth anymore.
They both giggle at your broken moan that comes out as a reply.
“No thoughts left in that little mind of yours, uhm?” Johnny teases, his fingers playing with your nipples making you cry out more.
Your head is abandoned on her thigh, drool dripping out of the corner of your lips while your fingers pump in and out in tired, messy movements. You’re so far gone that she has to help you fuck her by guiding your wrist.
“Except how good it feels to be surrounded by us. You love it when we trap you between us and make you feel small, don’t you? Bet you’d love it even more if I fucked your mouth with a toy while he fucked your pussy, or maybe the other way around.”
You yelp when someone smacks your ass, you don’t care to figure out if it’s him or her. It doesn’t matter, it only adds to the pleasure and dizziness.
“Or maybe we could each take a hole and stuff you til you break,” Johnny giggles lowly. “Your tight ass and pussy spread by us.”
“Please,” you cry out. Please make me come and please do it. Please fuck me at the same time, from both ends and until I’m nothing between you. But it stays inside, they get it anyway, like they get all of you.
“C’mere,” Johnny chuckles as he manoeuvres you, lifting your body and pushing you closer to his wife. You’re kneeling now, body slumped against hers while he presses you flat, your fingers still moving inside of her while you moan in the crook of her neck. It feels warm, almost romantic, and you feel so small.
The hand that is not helping you fuck her, wraps around your waist and starts rubbing circles on your burning hot skin, meeting Johnny’s that doing the same.
“Look at you, doll, you’ve been so good. What do you say, John, should she come?” Aaliyah’s voice is particularly sweet, reaching your ear like a faint melody and you feel farther and farther from your body.
“I think she deserves it,” Johnny replies, kissing your neck to distract you from his hand slipping down to your clit.
Your teeth sink into her skin, making her hiss, not in pain but most in surprise, and your face wets even more while a loud sob rips from your throat.
“Come on, princess,” she whispers close to you, leaving pecks on top of your head, “be a good girl and come with us.”
You don’t let them tell you twice when their pace fastens and all the stimuli get to your head one last time. This orgasm is like an explosion that leaves you trembling between their bodies, whimpering and moaning as the violent waves shock you to the core.
“Fuck, so fucking tight,” Johnny murmurs under his breath, hips slamming messily against your ass as he chases his orgasm. He’s caught up in your face before his eyes fall on his wife’s pussy, you stopped fucking her and she’s trying to rub her fingers on her clit, if you weren’t so far gone, brain mush in your skull, she would’ve said something, but she knows is no use now.
You’re collapsed on her body when your eyes trail between her legs, watching in awe as Johnny’s fingers fuck her fast and his thumb rubs her clit as he keeps pouding into you. Their moans are louder as they approach their release and her head falls against the board of the bed while her hands clench around your waist to hold onto something.
And you come again. An unexpected fourth orgasm washes over you, ass arching up and nails sinking into her thigh as you feel as life is being sucked away from you, and that’s what pushes them over the edge, your soft, broken whimpers mixing with theirs and your low mumbles of their names, it’s not Mr. and Mrs. Suh, is Johnny and Aaliyah now, only for you.
More curses fill the air before everything comes to a stop, Johnny’s body falling on yours for a second before he forces himself to pull out and roll to the side.
“Hey, it’s alright, it’s alright. Come here,” she whispers, soothing you as she pulls your body closer, hugging you and caressing your back and hair. You’re still shaking and crying, and your hands wrap quickly around her. “You’re fine, we’re here. It’s over.”
Soon after you feel Johnny’s hands too, and then his soothing words. “You’ve been so good, princess. Was it fun?”
His question is left unanswered, and they understand it will take you a while to start talking again. So they keep whispering sweet words to your ears while their hands calm you down with gentle touches. You don’t remember how long it takes before you fall into a deep slumber, but you know you feel a sense of peace you never felt before.
When you wake up, the clock hits midnight, you’re alone in the bed but you’re cleaned up and you’re dressed in a white shirt that reaches your thighs.
Somehow your legs carry your body out of the room and down the stairs where you take a sigh of relief seeing them laughing as they sit at the table. They’re dressed again, Johnny’s hair is brushed in its place, and her braids are pulled up in a bun again, they look as composed as usual but more familiar.
“Hey, you’re up?” Johnny is the first one who sees you and welcomes you with a sweet smile.
“We were starving. We wanted you to eat but you fell asleep, and for how intense it was we figured you were going to sleep until morning,” Aaliyah explains, moving a stool so you could sit between them, tapping on the seat to signal you to reach them.
You push your feet forward, legs wobbly and heart still racing, but this time is not the orgasm. You’re still lost in the haze, but now you’re fully aware of what happened, and you don’t know how to act in the aftermath.
“Are you alright? You stopped talking, it worried us a bit,” she says, lifting her hand to caress your nape after she tucked your hair behind your ear.
You nod, shoulders dropping as the tension disappears at her touch. “I’m fine. I guess it was a lot, it never happened before.”
Johnny comes back to you with a glass of water and some bowls with different food, leaving you a choice between fruits, something sweet, and something salty.
“Thanks,” you reply, grabbing the glass and gulping it in one go. “Honestly, I’m not really hungry,” you say, eyes diverting their gazes, there’s still a bit of worry behind them and you’re not used to people caring so much for you, especially after sex. You don’t think you ever saw a one-night-stand the morning after, but not even your exes cared much about how you felt after sex.
“No? Do you need something else?” Johnny asks, a caring tone filling his words, and the look in his eyes is different than all the other times before.
You look around, shaking your head, your throat is dry again and from the corner of your eyes, you see her filling the glass again. You smile shyly before drinking it. “I… I don’t want to sleep alone,” you confess, biting your lips and playing with the hem of the glass in your hands.
They smile, hands cupping yours before holding tight. “We had no intention of leaving you alone,” they say at the same time, making you smile.
“A bit paranoid, aren’t you?” Johnny jokes while Aaliyah leaves to put the food back in its place. You might be awake but it’s clear as daylight that you’re still tired and want to sleep.
“Mhh,” you mumble. Your eyes lift to look at Johnny and you smile. He looks beautiful, the faint silver light of the moonlight paiting his cheekbones and hair.
“And still not very talkative,” she adds when she comes back, a soft look in her eyes. “Come on, there’s no need to talk, let’s get you to bed.” She stretches a hand out and you quickly grab it, jumping off the chair but regretting it when your legs make it known they’re not back just yet.
You gasp when two arms wrap around you and lift you up, and soon you’re met with Johnny’s eyes. You smile at him before locking eyes with her who’s following behind and quickly is at your side.
“Thanks,” you whisper because he’s carrying you but mostly, for the night you spent. You decide you will worry tomorrow, for now, you feel full, they made you feel wanted, and dare to say, even loved. It’s all that matters.
“You have to be grateful, he stopped carrying me upstairs a long time ago,” she jokes and Johnny scoffs, “Liar.”
And soon the three of you are in the bed again, the dirty duvet is not on the mattress anymore and a thinner blanket covers you. You’re in the middle, pressed between their bodies while they leave kisses on your face, and whisper sweet words to you, their hands intertwined on your stomach while their thumbs rub small circles on your skin.
And as sleep takes over you again, you think that there’s no other place you’d rather be, if not between them.
TAGLIST: @shiningnono ; @yasmin-uc ; @heystaystray ; @calibabii21 ; @itsyagirll ; @foxydumps ; @evepsycheandbluebirdswife ; @kundann | general taglist: @froggyforyoongi , @wingsss45 ; @tddyhyck ; @technologyculturedneo
© neowinestaindress; all rights reserved. do NOT repost, modify, or translate any work from this blog on any other platform and claim it as yours. you can find my works on ao3 (neowinestaindress) and wattpad (winestaintedress_; currently inactive).
#nct fanfiction#johnny smut#johnny suh smut#johnny scenarios#johnny seo smut#johnny hard hours#johnny hard thoughts#mxfxf#bisexual reader#nct x black reader#nct 127 smut#nct smut#nct dilf
1K notes
·
View notes
Text
Hello! This is a blog primarily focused on making animal books (mainly Xenofiction) more accessible to those who can't get them legally (or don't want to support the creators)
I've made two separate drives that contain A LOT of pdfs of said books, such as Warrior Cats, Wings of Fire, Ratha's Creature, Watership Down, Survivors and many more you can see on this list
You can ask for the links through messages or comments!
More details about this under the cut!
Why not share the drives here?
Well, the last time I saw someone do that, the links got taken down, so instead I'll be sharing them through DMs!
Also, don't be shy to ask any questions.
There are two drives, the Main Books drive, and the Mature Books drive (which is mostly still a work in progress)
Please, specify if you want access to the mature books drive, and only ask for it if you're 18 years old or older, I will be checking if you have your age/age range in bio, if you don't have it, you can also say you're an adult when asking for it. (It's not a foolproof system, I know, but It's not like I want to ask for personal details)
The main drive has books that range from Family friendly to other series with an age rating of +13 or +15.
The mature books drive has animal books that have a lot of content not appropriate for minors, such as animal mating scenes, uncensored slurs and a lot of other dark topics. (Just because there's animal heat scenes doesn't mean that I condone the enjoyment of said scenes, if I see someone claiming to be zoophile wanting access to the drive, they will be blocked on sight) (This is not a safe space for anyone attracted to animals in such ways)
(I usually censor slurs before uploading the PDFs, but this time around, because of my own triggers, I haven't checked the contents of them and left the books the same as they were upon release, including slurs) (just because I left them intact, does not mean I agree with the usage of said words in the context of the books, which is why I added warnings for each slur in a document inside the drive) (I've personally censored every slur I've found in the books of the main drive, however)
For reference, this drive has books like Ratha's Creature and One for Sorrow, Two for Joy.
ALL BOOKS IN BOTH DRIVES HAVE A DOCUMENT LISTING ALL TRIGGER AND CONTENT WARNINGS FOR EACH SERIES.
The trigger warnings were sourced from book reviews and pages focused on giving content warnings.
Here are other questions you may have:
Can I share the link once I have it?
Yes! As long as you don't share it in public internet spaces (comments, public posts, open discord servers with huge amounts of people) it should be fine. I would love to make it public, however I also don't want it to get taken down minutes after sharing, which is why I'm limiting it to private links.
Can I take the PDFs from the drive and use them on my own drive?
Of course! The entire point of this is to make these books more accessible! Take whatever you need from here!
Have a nice reading! I will keep giving out the links for as long as this post is still up (or gets taken down or something happens to me lol)
252 notes
·
View notes
Text
𝓣𝓮𝓪𝓬𝓱𝓮𝓻'𝓼 𝓟𝓮𝓽
✧warnings: toxic/yandere themes, violence, (I'll turn this into a lil series or at least do a part 2 for this if u want, tell me if u do want it, coz I think this one shot needs a part 2, )
✧synopsis: Yandere Sunoo, is a young teacher at y/n's high school, the 2 only having a 3-4 year gap. He's so in love with her. She's sweet, cute, loving and sensitive, she's a goddamn pushover and she needs him. Sunoo watches you, he knows everything about you, where you live, what you like, how you feel. You're pretty lonely, no matter how many friends you make, or who ever you talk to, the feeling just always sticks to you... Which just makes you falling for him an easy job.
✧❁✧❁✧❁✧❁✧❁✧❁✧❁✧❁✧❁✧❁✧❁✧❁✧
Y/n walked down the hallway, earphones in as she opened her locker. Taking the necessary books, she walked to class. "I'm telling you girl. Mr Kim definitely has a thing for Lee y/n, have you seen the way he treats her? the way he looks at her, heck he even tutors her after class..." Yena exclaimed as the girls all nod in agreement.
"Oh my god what if they actually are dating?... and those after school "tutoring sessions" aren't tutoring sessions?" Leiko snickerred, at this point, the whole class was chiming in. "Think about it, she's pretty, he's fine as hell, and they're both so energetic and lively-" Yena pointed out. "LEE Y/N IS SLEEPING WITH A TEAHCER!!!" One of the boys scream, and just at that time, Sunoo walked in.
He was fucking mad. however no one could see that The class went silent, as Sunoo went to his teacher's desk "Is this a classroom or a park? students go back to your seats!" Sunoo simply said as he arranged his stuffs. A few minutes passed and more students come in, including y/n. "Y/n why are you late?" Sunoo asked coldly. His Icy tone gave you the chills, heck the whole classroom got the chills.
He was usually a smiley, sweet teacher. "S-sorry si-" "No. detention after school. 1 hour don't make it 2." Sunoo harshly said as Y/n stared in shock. Everyone was shocked. he wasn't just cold to all the students, but you. The one student everyone swore was the teachers pet. "Kay sir..." the girl bowed before sitting in her seat, which was right in front of Sunoo where she's in his eyeline.
Eventually, break time rolled around, and y/n were the last to leave her classroom. she didn't really feel like socializing so she kept her earphones in as she scrolled through tik tok, which means she didn't hear a single thing the students were saying behind her back. "Do you think Mr Kim is being harsh on her because the boys yelled she's sleeping with A teacher, but didn't specify who?" Yena asked as the the girls shrugged.
"She's not all that you know... what does Mr Kim see in her?..." Leiko questioned as the other girl's shrugged. Seeing her alone, A dear classmate of hers, Jungwon, decided to join her. Yena audibly gasped seeing the male approach y/n. "What the fuck?!" She said as Leiko scratched her head awkwardly. Yena had been trying to catch the attention of Yang Jungwon her whole time in school.
Of course she was never successful because the only times Jungwon ever saw her, was when she was bullying someone or being a bitch to fuel her own self-esteem. However, Yena wasn't the only one who was mad to see y/n laughing with Jungwon. Sunoo was. Fuck he ices her once and she runs to another male?! Detention is going to be a treat...
The day went by pretty quickly. You were stuck in detention with Sunoo. Just the 2 of you alone. "Drink this." He simply said as you frowned. "Huh?" you ask, a little taken aback "Drink. this." he demanded, his eyes telling you not to fuck with him. Hesitant, you took a few sips of the drink and boy did you regret it, blacking out only minutes later.
You woke up in a much more comfortable environment, the sound of a musical humming, and the smell of Sunoo's perfume being the first senses that his you, you frown waking up in what you assumed to be his bed. Scared, you looked under the blanket, you were still in your uniform and not even an inch of pain. "What? you thought I'd stoop that low?! I'm only taking you so I can protect you darling... do you know what those students say behind your back sweetheart?..." he asked as you hugged the blanket.
"Mr Kim-" "Uh- no no, just Sunoo, or babe would do... I'm your boyfriend now sweetheart, but the school doesn't need to know" Sunoo said with an endearing smile, the smile that made you feel warm and cared for, now gave you the creeps. "This isn't right! I don't like you like that Mr Ki- Sunoo!" the girl tried to explain as Sunoo twirled her hair.
"Oh baby, you're just in denial you're no teacher's pet, you're the teacher's girlfriend... you deserve special princess treat meant." Sunoo said tilting his head as the girl whimperred. "Oh baby don't pretend you don't love this. Not even your daddy loved you and nor did your mommy have time for you... you fucking love this. You love that a man is willing to kidnap and keep you just so he can love and care for you." Sunoo added with a smirk as he crashed his lips ont yours, not once caring about your cries or little pushes.
#yandere kpop#yandere enhypen#enha x reader#kpop yandere#lee heeseung#park jongseong#park sunghoon#jake sim#kim sunoo#yang jungwon#nishimura riki#yandere sunghoon#sunghoon enhypen#sunghoon x reader#yandere drabble#yandere enha#enhypen sunghoon#enhypen scenarios#enhypen sunoo#sunoo packs#enha sunoo#sunoo enhypen#sunoo ff#sunoo#sunoo x reader#sunoo icons#enhypen#sunoo reactions#engene#enhypen ff
200 notes
·
View notes
Text
A Jason Grace Analysis
While my Jason fics relies on mainly interpretation and headcanons, this one’s mostly going on the limited list of Jason’s life from the books. YOU’RE ALLOWED TO DISAGREE WITH ME,JUST DO IT RESPECTFULLY IN THE COMMENTS. be nice pls.
Spoiler alert 🚨 (for PJO, HOO and TOA)
Jason Grace is a character who was, in a way, screwed over by Rick during his writing of Heroes of Olympus and eiDzgventually Trials of Apollo. His story was very sad, but never explored to its fullest potential and in some cases didn’t make sense. He’s a character who is seen as ‘boring’ by the fandom, which , in a way, makes sense. Uncle Rick didn’t do him justice, so I’m here for a Jason Grace analysis.
Firstly, Jason’s incredibly depressing life. Because I do not know what vendetta that Rick had against my boy, but I would argue his story is the most tragic of everyone in the books. Yes. Even Nico.
Jason’s mother was an unhinged alcoholic who was obsessed with fame. For the first 2 years of his life, he was basically looked after by his sister, who was also a young child. As hard as Thalia tried, she probably wasn’t the best caregiver on account of her age. His mother was unstable, which has got to leave some scars, even if you’re a young kid, because you still know what’s going on to some extent. And Jupiter seemed to leave the family to their own devices after a while, not even staying for a kid. So Jason has been basically abandoned, keep track of how often that happens.
Then Jason was abandoned again, this time by his mother, left as a sacrifice for Hera. And he wasn’t sacrificed just anywhere, he was left at the Wolf House, where Lupa tested him to see if he was ‘pup or food’. So Jason, at two years old, was tested by a Wolf Goddess, a ruthless one at that, who threatened to kill him if he didn’t live up to expectations. Just a great environment for a toddler to live in. And while the time he spends in the Wolf House is unspecified, the general consensus is that it was for a year or two. This is more of a headcanon, but the implications of ‘pup or food’ could show that he stayed with her longer than the average Roman demigod. In SoN, it’s shown that most demigods do their Wolf House training for like, a week. And the training sounds harsh when Percy, age 16 does it. So imagine a 2 year old, going through that, constantly. Then he is off to New Rome.
In HoO, it’s pointed out that Jason has 12 lines of his forearm for his years of service in New Rome. 12 lines representing 12 years of service.
Jason has been serving 12 years of military service since he was around 3. So that means that this literal infant is just… in the military. How does that work? Was baby Jason just running around in little armour? Was he doing the same drills as other kids when he was much, much younger? Also the fact that in Camp Jupiter, you train for 10 years, then go to live in New Rome. But Jason has been serving for longer than that, with 2 extra years. It seemed like he wasn’t going to retire anytime soon in the books, so that also adds some mystique to his character that was never explored.
Then we move into the other things at Camp Jupiter, which is that Jason was treated like a statue or a star, instead of a person. Hazel says that he is ‘more legend than boy’ which is so sad! This kid, this 15 year old is seen by those around him as a hero, a legend to look up to. Did Jason have any other friends? While Reyna seems to be close, Reyna had a crush on him, and while he didn’t know that, it must have made the friendship a bit… different. Jason isn’t specified to have any other friends in the books, probably because everyone was to in awe of his status as a Son of Jupiter. And while Jason may care about the rules, in Roman terms he was a very radical person. He was just trying to live a calm life, to not be known only as the Son of Jupiter. He joins the least respected cohort. He tries to take less important quests. But it doesn’t work, because he does get assigned big quests and while he is in the 5th cohort, people still treat him like a legendary hero instead of just a guy. And while the phrase ‘victim of nepotism’ is quite controversial, I think that Jason actually fits that bill.
Then we come to SoN. You know that tweet that’s like: hey we’re calling off the search party. we found a different guy out there we like more. That’s what Camp Jupiter did to Jason. Again, he was abandoned, this time by his own Camp. Like I know 8 months is a while, but oh my gosh, do we have to elect a new praetor? There’s also a contradiction. Percy is a Greek demigod, which isn’t a thing the Roman’s really like. Yet after a couple weeks at Camp, he’s already a PRAETOR? While Jason was put down for being ‘unrecognisable as a Roman’, they elected a very Greek person as a praetor? He was immediately accepted into the highest position of power? Also the fact that Jason wasn’t looked for. At all. While CHB was scrambling to find their boy (as they should), no one in CJ cared? Like, aren’t they the ones with the giant searching eagles? It seemed like everyone forgot about him, with him being missing not being a huge thing for most people (except Hazel and Reyna to my memory, fill me in if anyone else gave two frogs) and that’s gotta sting. The knowledge that your entire camp not only replaced you, but didn’t bother to look.
Jason also had amnesia and never regained huge chunks of his memory. That must be horrible, to have parts of your life gone, to not remember much. While Percy got everything back, Jason got so much less!
Jason goes on the quest, then comes back. He goes to CHB, goes to school. He starts having a normal life. And he gets broken up with, making him genuinely sad. And while I know that Piper had no ill intentions whatsoever when she broke up with him, that also could count as an abandonment. Because they don’t really keep in touch in the book, they seem to go their separate ways. So kinda half of an abandonment, even though both parties weren’t in blame.
Finally we have his death. While Thalia got turned into a tree by Zeus, a slightly caring act for a god, Jason died. This could be because Jupiter is crueller than Zeus or it could be because of the cycle of patricide, with Jupiter killing his father, who did the same to his father. Maybe it’s because of his paranoia. Maybe it’s because Jason called Jupiter unwise, but it still counts as an abandonment. The god saved Thalia (she could be seen as non threatening, not a killer. Not someone who could carry on the tradition of son killing father) and abandoned Jason, left him to die the ‘heroes death’.
Jason’s life has been one big struggle and rejection. 4.5 times, he was abandoned, left somewhere by someone. Left to die in the end. He was a child soldier, meaning that he was a kid that never got to be a kid, just a tool for the gods, for years and years. And he struggled with making friends, making new rules, trying to push the camp into the future. Seen as unroman, even Reyna says it. That’s an awful life, one that Rick Riordan never explored and one that’s contradicted at times.
Jason was a character that Rick dropped the ball on so hard.
Because, while his life is incredibly difficult, it has so much potential for storytelling, that Rick dashes on the rocks, leaving the fandom with a character who people acknowledge as weak and boring.
So, in the fandom, Jason is regarded as having no personality, or being a knock off Percy. So, Jason not really having a huge personality, as a kid who trained as a soldier from a young age, makes sense. He was spending half his childhood trying to survive so trying to figure out what MBTI type he was may have fallen low on his list of priorities. Then he got amnesia, and sent on the Seven quest. So Jason not having time to develop a sense of personality makes sense, buts here’s the catch. It’s never explored. Rick never, ever explains why that might be happening, which could make for a compelling story arc. Rick never expands on the child soldier thing at all, which sucks because instead of Jason having an identity crisis about Greek and Roman camps, he could be really weird since he’s a child soldier. (I’m aware that they’re all child soldiers, but I refer to Jason as child soldier since he was just a baby when he started)
And the seeds were there. For example, the scene with Jason being wary about Nico and not wanting to rescue him, that could have been Jason being taught that practicality is key. That some people are expendable. He could have learnt that from the ARMY THAT HE GREW UP IN. That could have been a plot point, that Jason struggles with taking breaks or knowing that’s he’s appreciated, that his childhood was abusive and not normal, that life isn’t a constant battle for survival. That could have been his arc! All of the pieces were right there! Rick, dude, you’re a great author, but you fumbled so hard on this one!
And also the fact that… unpopular opinion time….
Jason wasn’t stronger than Percy, but he should have been.
Jason has been in the army since he was a toddler, and I know that Percy’s really powerful, but come on! Jason being this really nice, really powerful kid with super strong powers and no social skills could have slayed. Maybe this is the inner Jason stan in me, but I personally think that Jason should have been stronger than Percy, simply because it makes more sense. Jason has been training for ages and ages, he single handedly fought a Titan at younger than Percy (around 14 or 15) so it seemed like his powers were muted by Rick. This could probably be because the PJO fandom is like a toxic TikTok boy mom when it comes to Percy (I can be like this too), making him centre stage and getting annoyed when he isn’t. Percy is meant to be the strongest, which isn’t bad, in some situations it just doesn’t fit. Or maybe Percy’s just wildly OP.
This is not to say that in the book Jason was weak, but people treat him like that.
And Jason’s really sad life is never explored! He should have been struggling with 1500 mental illnesses at once because that constant abandonment? The stress of everyone’s expectations? Trying not to die at like 4? He’s neither the eldest nor a girl, but he’s got so much eldest daughter syndrome and is burnt out gifted kid syndrome personified. And it’s hardly touched on!
There’s also the fact that’s a really small nitpick, but, the fact that Jason only has 1 single lip scar? That shows that Rick wasn’t paying attention to his own character. Jason trained with the Wolf Goddess then was in the army, he should be covered in them.
In conclusion, Jason’s very sad and tragic story was hardly utilised and the very interesting parts of his character were not used in a way they could be. But don’t worry Jason. While Rick Riordan may have flopped you, you are one of my favourite characters.
Peace ☮️
#jason grace#camp jupiter#heroes of olympus#percy jackon and the olympians#riordanverse#percy jackson#jason grace my child#my child <3#percy jackson and the olympians#pjo fandom#rick riordan#long post
201 notes
·
View notes
Text
Time of Fever
(Donghee/Hotae story recap) #1
Since this movie (Unintentional Love Story's spinoff, prequel about Hotae and Donghee) is currently shown only in cinemas in Korea, I went and watched it :D And for people who don't mind spoilers or want to know what's their story without waiting until it becomes available and translated online, I wrote a recap!
It turned out to be... uhh... quite lengthy so I'll make several posts or comments :] Let me know if you want to be tagged in them!
Disclaimer: I'm putting everything under 'read more' so people won't catch spoilers accidentally! Screenshots are from the trailer, I put them along the scenes I described.
Disclaimer #2: I'm not fluent in Korean (especially listening to it by-ear) and some characters had accents/satoori so some details can be missed. But I tried my best to write down what I was definitely sure about :D I'm re-listening to my audio recording so it won't be that far away from truth.
Enjoy!
Hotae is standing outside, dressed in a suit, looking far away as kids shout around. The camera pans out, and it's revealed he's dressed in a funeral-attending suit (seems like his father has died). The kids' ball rolls to his feet, and they ask Hotae to pass them the ball back. Hotae leads the ball and plays the football with kids, starting to smile.
Hotae moves to the big cottage-like house with backyard and peach trees where his mom (and also Donghee) has been living. He is eager to rush into the house, calling out 'Hyung!' but Donghee isn't at home. Hotae is looking at all the old shelves, childhood books and sport trophees.
He texts Donghee "Hyung, I arrived! When are you coming?". Donghee hasn't responded but he was coming after school, hesitantly walking along the house outer wall. Hotae notices him and sneaks to hide in bushes, jumping over and surprising him. I think they haven't seen each other for 2(?) years. They bicker a little. Then Hotae says: "Hyung, you haven't changed at all". Donghee replied with: "You grew up well, Go Hotae."
Their moms are chatting and suggesting Hotae goes to Donghee's school, while Hotae is taking out books outside and Donghee is studying inside the house. They steal glances at each other through the window.
Donghee and Hotae go through school's gates, Donghee is grabbed by a friend and Hotae is stopped by the guard (because of his improperly looking uniform). Then we're at the swimming pool, Hotae is in the team, getting scolded along with other late students. The head(?) of the team is Donghee's friend who said Hotae better be working hard, if he wasn't Donghee's younger bro (not specified meaning sibling or just junior) they would've kicked his ass. Hotae bites back that he's not Donghee's younger bro.
Donghee came home late, Hotae was waiting for him. He speaks to Donghee very informally and disrespectfully, 'You know what hour it is? Don't you hear me? Hey, Kim Donghee!' Donghee: "Are you out of your mind? Why aren't you calling me hyung?".
Hotae asks Donghee if he got 1st place in competition and says that he has to also earn 1st place then. He asks Donghee to come see him, even if it's just evaluation and not competition. Donghee responds that he'll come see Jisoo (his friend on the swimming team), Hotae is annoyed. "Say it once again! Who you'll come to see?! - Yoo Jisoo. - Again. - Who?>:(( - Aaah damn it, fine. You, I'll come to see you, happy?" Hotae is, indeed, happy and promises to get 1st place.
The swimming competition starts, Hotae starts well but fails. Donghee's standing outside waiting. Jisoo comes to him offering to come get some food, but Donghee declines. Jisoo's like ah, you're waiting for your guy, alright.
Donghee goes to search for Hotae. Hotae is sitting near the wall in his swimming suit, towel on his shoulders and head, he's trembling while crying. Donghee sits in front of him and says: "Wow, you're really ugly :D Get up, let's go grab some food. No? Alright, just cry out as much as you can then. I won't tell anyone."
They walk back home down the train road, lit up by the sunlight. Hotae: "Aah the sun is so bright, my eyes hurt." Donghee: "Isn't it because you cried so hard?" Hotae: "No!>:(" They bicker a little, and Donghee laughs at Hotae's face expression again. Meanwhile, Hotae was emotional but now he's in awe because there is someone watering bushes behind Donghee, and there are droplets of water and bright warm sun, and Donghee looks so beautiful. They walk back home together.
Hotae watches his mother dot on Donghee as he leaves home again. Hotae follows Donghee and discovers he's often staying in the old art workshop schoolroom. There are old drawing easels and canvases, books everywhere and two plaster busts. Hotae wanders around and tries to peek into sketchbooks, Donghee rushes to him and grabs the dark blue sketchbook out of his hands, scolding him not to open it.
(screenshot not from this scene but this is the view of that school art studio~)
Hotae discovers some book lying around and opens up to read it. It's a story about man turning into an insect (I didn't see the cover but I can safely guess it's "The Metamorphosis" by Franz Kafka?). Hotae is confused what kind of story is this. Donghee is like "If one day I get turned into an insect, (will you still love me) am I Kim Donghee or am I an insect?". Hotae is still confused about his question and the book.
Hotae falls asleep, napping in the studio while Donghee studies. Donghee walks away without him but slams the door loudly so Hotae wakes up and runs after him. It's raining outside, they are covering their head with hood (H) and backpack (D). In the middle of rain pouring, Hotae stops giving any fucks and spreads his arms, shoving his face under the rain. Donghee looks at him, smiles and does the same. They both enjoy the pouring rain and play in it, until they run to hide in the tunnel.
Hotae laughs, they remember their childhood. Donghee asks why Hotae doesn't call him "hyung". Hotae doesn't answer but comes to him and helps squeeze out the water from his orange fluffy sweater. Romantic mood, cue~
The rain turns into thunderstorm when they are already home. They sleep next to each other on different futons. Donghee's back is turned to Hotae, he's facing the window. He's trembling under the blanket. We get flashback to an angry man (his dad) punching and hitting Donghee to the ground amidst lightning and thunder.
Hotae stirs up and asks whether he's cold or scared. Donghee tells him to just go to sleep, but Hotae refuses. Then he's like 'aah whatever, move!', gets up and lies right next to Donghee (back to him). After a while, Donghee turns and scoots closer, clasping his shirt in his fingers, asking Hotae not to mind it.
Hotae asks: "You weren't like this before, what happened? - Everything changes, so I have changed too." Donghee almost noses into him. Hotae feels the breath from his lips on his back, gets shivers and remembers it next morning as well.
They sit on a porch of the house, Donghee brought Hotae some cut up tomatoes to eat. Hotae whines that it's too hot. He grabs tomato, bites in it and the drop of juice escapes down his arm. Donghee fixates on it and reaches out to wipe it with his fingers. Hotae freaks out about it, gets a bit rude and leaves.
He's swimming in the pool alone, full of thoughts about Donghee that obviously bother him. There's a random girl who meets him after his practice, she confesses to Hotae and asks him out. Hotae: "Well, alright".
They walk together, but Donghee was playing basketball and now is going home. Hotae tells the girl he'll be leaving and runs to Donghee, putting an arm around his back that Donghee says to keep to himself. Girl, frustrated, yells after him. Donghee is confused but Hotae tells him not to mind it and offers to go grab some food.
Days go by, Donghee keeps texting Hotae to help him with something (like 'buy some eggs on the way home', or 'bring me earphones' etc), Hotae ditches his new girlfriend because of "urgent thing", and rushes home with eggs.
Donghee is cooking and is surprised to see his face (there is a small wound). We learn that girlfriend cursed at Hotae and slapped him for not giving her any attention and constantly ditching her. Hotae says it's nothing, he just broke up with his girlfriend. "Why? - Because I bought eggs. - What even is this…"
Donghee walks home from school, he sees Hotae and goes to him happily but Hotae's with another girl who confesses to him and asks to become her boyfriend, and Hotae once again says "Alright then". Donghee is upset.
He returns home late, and Hotae yells at him because he was worried and Donghee wasn't responding to any texts, yet he was holding a phone in his hand (idk why but he had two in the movie xD). They bicker again about Hotae addressing him impolitely. "- Ya! (Hey) - Ya? Ya?! Hey, are you really not calling me hyung, you–"
Hotae looks at Donghee. "I can't (call you hyung). I won't!"
He walks away from him, but after awhile stops and turns back. "Go faster!" He returns and grabs him by the wrist, dragging him towards the house. Donghee smiles. Even when he tells Hotae to take his hand away, Hotae won't.
[to be continued–]
#time of fever#내 손끝에 너의 온도가 닿을 때#unintentional love story#time of fever recap#dropthemeta#dropthemeta time of fever#korean bl#bl series#donghee#hotae#donghee x hotae
110 notes
·
View notes
Text
Black Panther - Post Credit Scene
Summary: Bucky comes out of the ice.
Pairing: Avengers x F!Reader, Bucky Barnes x F!Reader
Warnings: Nothing really for this one, maybe language. Mostly fluff. My poor attempts at being funny.
Word Count: 1.8K
A/N: I want to specify that I used google translator for the Xhosa, so I hope it's at least decent, but I thought it would be cute to put it in there. I've had this ready to go for WEEKS and I'm so glad I finally get to post it! I hope you like the idea of a reunion like this as much as I do! Enjoy!
Masterlist | Series Masterlist
You’ve been on the run for a year now with Steve, Sam and Natasha. A few weeks after you all escaped the Raft, Clint and Scott decided to make a deal with Ross to get house arrest because being on the run and away from their families was too hard for them.
The five of you that remained went from safe house to safe house while doing as many missions as you could, never staying in one place too long and still trying to help people to the best of your capabilities, with Wanda disappearing from time to time to spend time with Vision.
Lately, though, you’ve been noticing Steve’s been a little fidgety, even disappearing here and there for a couple of days at a time.
You want to ask him what’s going on, but you don’t want to be nosy so you wait for if and when he’s ready to talk about it.
And that time comes one random afternoon as you’re all sitting around in the living room of the safe house you’re in, Wanda being off with Vision.
“Hey, can I talk to you?” He sits next to you and you nod, putting down your book to give him your full attention. “I know you’ve all been wondering where I go every now and then, and I’m glad you didn’t push it. But I’m ready for you guys to know now.”
He addresses everybody before turning to you and looking straight in your eyes as he finishes. “Bucky’s awake.”
Your breath hitches in your throat and you can’t seem to find it in you to say anything more than “Oh.”
“Yeah. I’m sorry I didn’t tell you sooner...” He looks actually sorry. “We just thought it would’ve been better to keep it as lowkey as possible.”
You nod and look at the floor, trying not to show your disappointment.
It makes sense. After all Steve is his best friend, his brother, his only family. You’re barely an acquaintance.
Right?
“He asked about you.” your eyes snap back to him. “He wanted you to be there, but he understood. He’s glad you’re safe.”
“From the government or from him?” you mumble and Steve gives you an apologetic look, but lets it go.
“The thing is, I kind of need to ask you a favor.” you narrow your eyes at him and he raised his hands in surrender. “It’s nothing bad, I swear!”
“Fine,” you sigh. “What do you want?”
“It’s just, the mission we’ve been planning is important…” he looks at the plans and footprints on the table. “And only three of us are needed for it.”
You think you see where this is going. “You want me to take over your part of the mission?!” you look at him like he grew three heads. How the hell can you take on the role of a supersoldier?
“No, of course not. That’s the thing.” he quickly clarifies. “I can’t be spared for this, and we know the mission is gonna last a while.”
“Where are you going with this, Rogers?” you’re just confused now.
“Could you look after Bucky for me?”
Oh. You try hard not to look too excited about the prospect of seeing Bucky again and spending time with him.
“Are you… sure that’s a good idea?” you ask him as coolly as you can.
“It’s not gonna be hard. You just need to keep an eye on him from a distance.” good thing you managed your expectations. “Shuri’s gonna be working with him and, when he’s ready, she’ll let you talk to him.” Okay, you’re excited again.
“Uhm,” you have to at least pretend to think about it, right? “I guess, if I’m not needed on the mission and you are, I could do you this favor.”
You fight a smile as you make the mistake to look at Sam, that’s grinning, knowing full well how you feel about Bucky. You groan and roll your eyes, but he says nothing, thankfully.
“Thank you.” Steve lays a hand on your arm and smiles at you. “This means a lot to me.”
“I know.” you smile back, then hug him.
“Okay,” he says as you let go “we’re leaving tomorrow morning.”
You nod and get up to finish packing the bag you were getting ready for the mission in a few days.
After you’re done, you go back to the living room to spend one last night with Sam, Steve and Nat as you don’t know how long it’s gonna be before you see them again.
The next morning you wake up thankful you’re not hungover and get your stuff with Steve’s into the jet, Sam and Nat accompanying you out to say the last goodbyes.
“I’ll miss you.” you tell Nat as you hug her “Please don’t cut your hair again while I’m gone.”
“I’ll try not to.” she laughs, hugging you back. “I’ll miss you too, Crazy.”
“Try not to miss me too much.” Sam tells you as he hugs you too, making you roll your eyes with a smile.
“Sure, birdbrain.” He groans at the nickname “Be careful.”
He nods and, after they say goodbye to Steve too, the two of you board the quinjet and make your way to Wakanda.
You are met by Princess Shuri and King T’Challa himself. You hug Steve goodbye as he makes his way to visit Bucky before his mission and to tell him he probably won’t be coming by again for a while.
Shuri and T’Challa, who insisted you drop their formal titles, give you a tour of the palace and then take you to a guest room that’s basically a suite, and you’re shocked to find out you’ll be living here in the palace for the duration of your stay.
As promised you look after Bucky from a distance.
Every morning you and Shuri get escorted to Bucky’s hut where she works with him on his deprogramming as you and Ayo hang back.
Other than making sure he’s okay, there’s not really much for you to do so you take this time to get to know the people. It astonishes you how easy you get welcomed by the community.
You’re taught their customs by the locals, you pick up some Xhosa, not a lot but enough to have conversations and you’re even taught to fight by the Dora Milaje. Mostly Okoye and even Ayo since the two of you cleared the air after the whole airport fight.
She apologized profusely about the wound she inflicted in your arm, which has been fully healed for months now, and you assured her it was okay. You understood she was simply doing her job and admired her passion and determination to protect her king.
Also, it turns out you broke a couple of her ribs, which you also apologized for, so you two decided to just call it even.
You got comfortable fast; dressing with their clothes, participating in their festivities and playing around with the children everyday as Shuri does whatever she does with Bucky.
You’re always careful to not get too close to be seen while still being close enough to keep an eye on them.
After their sessions Shuri always brings you up to speed and then you report to Steve to let him know Bucky’s doing good.
You’re making your way to Shuri’s lab where you’ve met her everyday for the couple of months that you’ve been in Wakanda.
“Good morning, Princess.” you tell her, bowing when you stop in front of T’Challa. “My King.”
“Stop that.” he swats at you as both you and Shuri laugh.
“Ready to go?” Ayo asks and you eye her suspiciously as she’s grinning like she does right before she makes a move that instantly knocks you on your ass during training.
“What are you up to?” you ask her but she just keeps on smiling.
“Today is the day, Agent.” Shuri tells you as smirks, knowing how you feel about the nickname.
“I’m not an agent of anything.” you roll your eyes, then register what she just said. “Wait, what do you mean, today’s the day?”
“Sergeant Barnes is ready.” she says and you can’t help the smile that comes to your face, which falls with a groan when you see them all smirking at each other at your reaction.
“Let’s just go.” you say as you turn around and start walking with Shuri and Ayo.
“Have fun!” T’Challa yells after you.
“Your order is my command, Your Highness!” you yell back and you all laugh at the loud groan he lets out.
As always, Shuri gets closer while you and Ayo hang back and she walks to the shore of the lake in front of the hut and then stops there.
You see three kids run out of Bucky’s hut, laughing, and the princess turns around as they run up to her and hug her.
“Are you playing around with that man again?” she asks, laughing. “You’re teasing him again.” she keeps teasing them as they chant ‘no’ between laughter and you can’t help but smile.
Bucky exits the hut and, like every other day, he takes your breath away. His sun-kissed skin, his Wakandan robes, his growing beard and the longer hair. The whole style just suits him.
You see him take a deep breath and then he gets closer to Shuri as the children run towards you giggling about the “Ingcuka Emhlophe”. [White Wolf]
“Uyayithanda Ingcuka Emhlophe?” you ask them. [You like the White Wolf?]
“Yena engaqhelekanga” one of the kids says and you laugh. [He’s strange]
“Kutheni ephulukene nengalo nje?” another one asks you. [Why is he missing an arm?]
You aren’t sure what to say, they are children after all, but you try your best.
“Kuba uyindoda ekhaliphileyo eyathi yenzakala xa inceda abantu.” [Because he is a brave man that was injured while helping people]
They all look at him in awe just as you hear Shuri say, “Sergeant Barnes.”
“Bucky.” he corrects her and you smile.
“How are you feeling today?” she asks him.
“Good. Thank you.” she smiles and motions towards you.
“Come. Much more for you to learn.” she says as she starts walking.
He takes a second to look out at the lake before following Shuri, but as soon as he spots you, he stops.
He stares as you’re giggling with the children that are now circling around you and dancing, and when you look towards Bucky again his eyes are already on you.
You blush a little at his intense gaze but he seems to snap out of it when your eyes meet his and he gets closer until he’s right in front of you.
“Sergeant.” you say, smirking.
“Doll.” he says, smirking back.
You smile at each other until Shuri clears her throat and you turn to look at her just to see both her and Ayo with a smirk of their own. You roll your eyes at them, but your smile stays on.
“Shall we?” Shuri says and starts walking, Ayo right behind her.
Bucky takes your hand and starts walking after Shuri too, pulling you with him, both of you feeling like nothing could wipe the smiles off your faces.
Requested taglist: @sapphirebarnes @aki-ham @mary-jinx @abbyyourlocalmilf @selcouthial @esposadomd @americaarse @multiversefanfics
#bucky barnes#avengers x reader#bucky barnes x you#sam wilson#steve rogers#shuri#clint barton#tony stark#peter parker#natasha romanoff#scott lang#tchalla#avengers x platonic!reader#bucky barnes au#bucky barnes x female reader#bucky x reader#bucky barnes x reader#bucky barnes x y/n#y/n stark#bucky x you#bucky barnes imagine#black panther#marvel fanfiction#mcu#wakanda#ayo#white wolf
259 notes
·
View notes
Text
— NEW MEMORIES
PAIRING — Erik Lehnsherr x fem!Mutant!Reader
SUMMARY — You're excited to celebrate holidays for the first time in a long time and you prepare the school for Christmas and Hanukkah but your husband's attitude differs, which leads to an argument. You accidentally reveal too soon that you're expecting, which ruins a surprise.
AUTHOR’S NOTE — As usual, Reader’s mutation is NOT specified. I checked online Hanukkah's date for 1973 and I hope it showed me right that it started December 19th, which means it would overlap with Christmas. I also tried not to specify if Reader would celebrate only Hanukkah with Erik or Christmas, too, so I hope it's not very exclusive, because I imagine that even if she is not a Christian or Jewish, she would still want to celebrate Hanukkah because of her husband. In this fic, Erik and Reader are both teachers at Xavier's School, probably after Days of Future Past happened but with less shitty ending for Erik 😂 I also wanted to write a part when the baby is born but I decided the time difference between the scenes would be too big so I'll just write another fic 😁
WARNINGS — mentions of parents' death (Reader's backstory is similar to Jean Grey's)
WORD COUNT — 2,220
ENGLISH IS MY SECOND LANGUAGE.
NEW MEMORIES
December has never been your favourite time of the year. Most of the time it was a reminder that you weren’t normal, that your life wasn’t usual and that whatever all these people in Christmas commercials had was out of your reach.
But in 1973, for the first time in your life, you were actually excited. And since Xavier’s School for Gifted Youngsters was open again, you had plenty of people to share your excitement with. Lots of students volunteered to help you with decorating the place for the upcoming Christmas and Hanukkah celebrations. That year was one of those when the two of them overlapped.
After all your classes on Friday, you worked on yet another room of the house with the help of a few students. When you finished it was almost ten pm so you told them goodnight and went straight to your bedroom. Erik was already there, reading a history book and making notes.
“What is it about?” you asked him with a smile as you began to take off your clothes. You were so tired that you decided to take a shower in the morning and now just change into pajamas.
“Napoleonic wars,” your husband answered without looking up. “I have a feeling he might have been one of us.”
“Aren’t we, like, a product of this century?” you asked and put a nightgown on. “Come on, it’s late, let’s go to sleep,” you stood behind him and placed your hands on his shoulders.
“I’ve only just begun,” he explained. “I need these notes for Monday.”
When you managed to convince Erik to join you at school and teach history, he was unsure about it but he promised to give it a try. Just like you promised you would leave with him to live in peace somewhere else if he wouldn’t like the life at Charles’ school. But one semester later he was already very engaged in his work. Students respected him although you could see that they were also a bit scared of him, which was understandable.
“You’ve just begun?” you laughed a little.
“I was playing chess with Charles earlier,” Erik answered with a nod and hummed after underlining a line in the book.
“Is this why you’re so tense?” you asked as you slightly squeezed his stiff shoulders. “Did you lose?”
“I’m not tense,” he tried to shake you off.
“Talk to me, Erik. It’s not gonna work if you refuse to talk to me,” you reminded him sternly and he sighed before putting the pencil down and closing the book. “We need to be open about what is bothering us, you promised me we’d make it work this time,” you added.
“Yes, I know. But I don’t want to hurt your feelings,” Erik turned his head around to look at your face. You took a step back and furrowed your brows.
“What do you mean, Erik?” you asked.
He hesitated before saying anything and a million of possible scenarios started to come up to your mind.
“You don’t like it here?” You inquired. “You want us to move out?”
“No, it’s not about that… But…” Erik swallowed thickly and took a deep breath in. “I don’t like what you’re currently doing. I’m sorry. I don’t want to take your happiness out of it.”
“What am I currently doing?” you couldn’t understand what he was saying.
“Christmas and Hanukkah preparations,” he explained and you blinked a few times as your brain needed to process that information.
“Wait, what?!” you raised your voice a little. You didn’t want to scold him for expressing his feelings but you just couldn’t understand his reaction. “We’re going to celebrate for the first time in such a long time, and what’s more important, we’re not gonna be alone in this. We have our friends and students here. For the first time December is a positive time of the year to me… to us,” you tried to explain your point of view nervously. Erik was only looking at you and blinking slowly, patiently waiting for you to finish. “But I don’t do it for myself. I mostly am doing it for you, Erik. I wanted you to be happy, too. I wanted you to enjoy something that had been taken away from you a long time ago.”
“It reminds me of Hanukkahs with my parents,” he finally spoke up and you pursed your lips for a moment before opening your mouth again.
“So you don’t want to ever celebrate again?” you asked to be sure.
“No, I don’t think so,” he shook his head.
“Why can’t you let yourself be happy, why are you torturing yourself further? I don’t get it, I’m sorry,” you tried not to be irritated but you felt utterly disappointed. You sat on the edge of your bed and hid your face in your hands.
“I’m sorry. I didn’t want to be a killjoy.”
“Too late,” you murmured, fighting your tears back.
“I know that most of the students will be celebrating. I think I’ll just leave for a week somewhere. I have already discussed it with Charles and he said there are a few things I can do for him at that time,” Erik’s voice sounded casual like he was discussing business for you.
“You want to leave us during Christmas time?” you moved the hands off of your face and looked up at him angrily.
“(Y/N), please, I don’t want to fight about it…” Erik sighed. “Why can’t you just understand that I don’t want to…” he clenched his jaw and looked away. “I don’t want to create new memories like this because it would remove the ones I already have… with my mother.”
“And you think she wouldn’t want you to celebrate holidays with your new family? You don’t think she’d want you to be happy?” you stood up and looked down at him. You felt like a bitch but his explanation made you even angrier.
“I don’t know what she’d want because she’s dead!” He stood up and raised his voice.
“So, I won’t be able to celebrate ever?! Because you don’t want to create new memories?” you put your hands on your hips.
“I’m not forbidding you to celebrate.”
“I don’t want to celebrate without you, don’t you understand?!” you yelled and rolled your eyes. “And when our child is born, you won’t celebrate Hanukkah with them either?” you asked and then you closed your mouth quickly. Your anger made you reveal a few things too early.
“What child?” you could see Erik’s face becoming pale within a second. “(Y/N)?”
“It was supposed to be a Christmas surprise… But since you won’t even be here, I guess I can tell you now,” you shrugged your arms. “I’m pregnant,” you announced and turned around to avoid looking at his face. You were scared of his reaction.
You didn’t know how long it took him to finally do something. Was it a very long minute or was it ten minutes of a heavy silence between you two…?
“(Y/N), I’m sorry,” he finally whispered. Apologizing wasn’t his strong trait. You sensed him standing behind you and putting his hand on your shoulder shyly. You didn’t push him away but you didn’t lean back towards him as usual either. “For how long do you know?”
“Two weeks. It’s the second month,” you answered, your eyes focused on the wall in front of you as you tried to fight the tears back. “Are you even happy?” you dared to ask and your lower lip trembled because asking it out loud made your heart break.
You were trying to give him a normal life, to give him family and happiness, joy around Christmas time and all that. But he seemed to prefer to dwell on his past. You didn’t expect him to forget about his mother or about the pain, of course not. Your past wasn’t exactly pleasant either. But you wanted to be happy despite that, you wanted to have a family, you wanted a new start in life, another chance.
“Of course I am,” Erik answered and gently turned your body around so you would face him. However, you tried to avoid his eyes. “But I’m terrified,” he confessed.
“And you think I am not?” you looked up eventually as a few tears rolled down your cheeks. “I’m a monster, Erik. You think I’m not scared of hurting them by accident?” you asked.
When you were about twelve years old, you caused your parents’ death after having an argument with them. Your powers were out of control and you were locked in a mental institution for underage girls by people who didn’t understand that you weren’t crazy nor really dangerous. That was where you met the person who made you realize who you were and who was the only person there who wouldn’t treat you like a monster; although that was the word you could easily call him with. His name was Sebastian Shaw – but he introduced himself as Doctor John Smith. He was experimenting on you for a few years and although it had been a traumatic experience, you learnt how to control your mutation thanks to him. That was also how you met Erik – he found you not so long after you turned eighteen years old and left the institution. You started to work as a waitress and he was hunting for the man who had used your pain and suffering to perform experiments on you to deepen his knowledge about the various mutations. You decided to join Erik because your life didn’t seem to have any purpose anyway.
“You’re not a monster,” he sighed and pulled you closer to wrap his arms around you. With one of his hands he held the back of your head and caressed your hair. “You were just a child and now you’re older, you can control your powers. You’re extraordinary,” he whispered the words of comfort and kissed your forehead. “I’m not scared about you hurting our baby, I would never. I trust you with my life,” he assured you and it was comforting to hear that.
“Creating new memories doesn’t wipe out the old ones,” you cried out and pressed your face deeper into his chest. “Believe me, I wish it worked this way. I wish I could forget. I begged Charles to make me forget but he refused to do it to me,” you confessed and Erik raised your chin to make you look at him again. He hadn’t known about that before.
“You haven’t told me that,” his face was full of pain and worry.
“It was when you were in jail. I begged Charles to remove all the pain, the memory of my parents, the memory of Shaw… Even you. I begged him to even remove you from my head. But he told me I wouldn’t be myself any longer. He was right and I hate that. I hate that what I am is made of pain and suffering,” you sniffled. “That’s why I want to make good memories so badly, do you understand? I want to celebrate with you like we never have before. I want to laugh and feel safe. Like I belong somewhere, surrounded with friends and students, with my husband by my side and my baby growing inside of me. Do you understand my point of view now, Erik?” you bit on your trembling lip.
“Yes, my liebling, I do,” he nodded and leaned in to kiss your forehead and then the tip of your nose, which made you giggle through the tears, until eventually he pecked your lips.
“But I don’t want to force you either,” you sighed. Now, when all your emotions were finally out and you calmed yourself down, you decided there was no point in pushing him into something that would make him feel uncomfortable. “If you don’t want to celebrate, it’s alright. We both have our right to deal with whatever that has happened to us in our own ways. I’ll still have fun with all the rest, don’t worry about me,” you assured him.
“No, you were right. About me choosing to torture myself instead of allowing myself to enjoy my life,” Erik caressed your cheek and you cracked a smile. “And I can’t miss my child’s first Hanukkah either.”
“I want them to have a happy childhood,” you told him. “Like we never had.”
“I know. I do, too,” Erik placed his hand on your belly and caressed it gently, like it was made of glass. “I will protect them from everything, I promise. No human will hurt our baby.”
You smiled at him and cupped his face before leaning in to give him a proper kiss this time.
But you didn’t tell him that what you feared more than humans hurting your child was actually the child turning out to be perfectly normal. You were afraid that a man so prejudiced towards humans as your husband wouldn’t love his child fully if they weren’t a mutant. You couldn’t tell him that, though. You didn’t want to fight with him anymore that night. Instead, you just kissed him. After all, you’d still have a few years before you’d find out if the baby was a mutant or not.
MASTERLIST
374 notes
·
View notes
Text
ෆ — A LOVE LETTER - JAY FIC
SYNOPSIS — sometimes, only a love letter is what it takes for someone to get into a relationship.
PAIRING — crush!jay x crush-gn!reader
WARNINGS — a kiss i think that’s it? || WC : 1.9K+ (1966)
SOPH — tysm for requesting anon ! i hope i did it justice , and i did gn reader since you didn’t specify !
"I'm telling you, Jay totally has a thing for you!" Chaewon excitedly whispered in class, poking you with her pencil insistently. You attempted to brush off her words, even attempting to snatch her pencil away. "No way! Have you seen him with that other girl?"
"Just because he smiled at her doesn't mean he has feelings for her!" Chaewon's frustration grew as she wondered how oblivious you could be. "He has smiled and talked to you countless times. Why wouldn't he like you?"
"I don't know..." you scribbled in your notebook, unable to focus on taking notes any longer. You stole a glance at Jay, your crush, diligently jotting down his own notes like the great student he was. "I just don't think I'm his type."
"Come on, YN," Chaewon sighed, giving you an exasperated look. "You have no idea what his type is, and if you're too scared to make a move, you can't jump to conclusions," she emphasized, pointing her finger at you for emphasis.
"Do you think so?" Your gaze remained fixated on him, captivated by his every move. Even in the simplicity of his school uniform, he managed to make it look effortlessly stylish.
Suddenly, someone called out Jay's name, causing him to turn in your direction. Inadvertently, your eyes met, and he rewarded you with a warm smile. You returned the gesture, but quickly averted your gaze.
"Chaewon, what's happening to me?" you whispered, holding your breath as your heart raced.
The sound of the bell resonated through the classroom, instantly filling the air with a cacophony of noise. Chaewon rose from her seat, wearing a mischievous smile as she nudged you gently.
"That's love, you idiot," she teased, her voice barely audible amidst the commotion. “Let’s not be late to our next class, okay?”
With a sense of urgency, you hastily gathered your books and shoved them into your bag, eager to catch up with Chaewon. Walking side by side, the two of you engaged in your usual banter, oblivious to the bustling hallways around you. It was a stroke of luck that you shared a majority of your classes with your best friend, Chaewon. But what made it even more special was the fact that you found yourself in many classes with Jay, your secret crush.
Despite your best efforts to keep your feelings hidden, it seemed that Chaewon had caught onto your little secret. She had been an observant friend from the beginning and could sense the chemistry between you and Jay. You had always shared an effortless connection with Jay, as if you had known each other for years. It was this natural connection that made Chaewon ship the two of you right from the start.
"You know, YN, it's so obvious that you and Jay have something special," Chaewon teased, nudging you playfully as you walked together.
You rolled your eyes, trying to brush off her comment. "Oh, come on, Chaewon. We're just good friends. Nothing more."
She raised an eyebrow, a mischievous smile on her face. "Good friends, huh? I've seen the way he looks at you, and the way you light up when he's around. There's definitely more going on there."
You let out a nervous laugh, feeling your cheeks heat up. "You're reading too much into it, Chaewon. We're just really close."
She chuckled, giving you a knowing look. "Well, if you say so. But mark my words, something's bound to happen between you two. Love has a way of finding its way, you know."
You shrugged, trying to play it cool. "We'll see. For now, let's just focus on walking to our class together."
And so, you arrived at your next class, reluctantly parting ways with Chaewon as you followed the seating chart. It was an unfortunate moment, as you wished you could continue your conversations with her. However, fate seemed to smile upon you as you made your way to the back of the classroom, spotting an empty seat next to Jay.
Taking a seat beside Jay, you caught his eye and a bright smile spread across his face.
"Hey there, seatmate," Jay playfully greeted, his tone filled with warmth and familiarity.
Taking a moment to compose yourself, you met Jay's gaze and returned his smile, feeling your heart flutter at his playful greeting.
"Hey, seatmate," you replied, your voice laced with a mix of excitement and slight shyness. The term "seatmate" seemed to hold a certain charm, as it implied a level of closeness that thrilled you.
You were grateful that this class was a free period, as it meant you could focus on your own tasks without much interruption. As the class started, you settled into your usual routine, pulling out your books and assignments to work on.
While you were immersed in your own world, Jay's voice caught your attention. It seemed like he was engaged in a friendly argument with his friend seated beside him. Curiosity piqued, you glanced in their direction, but soon realized you couldn't decipher the details of their conversation.
Deciding to maintain your focus on your work, you popped in an earbud, tuning in to your favorite playlist. The familiar tunes enveloped you, creating a pleasant soundtrack to accompany your tasks. With the music playing softly in your ears, you allowed yourself to delve into the world of your assignments, momentarily oblivious to the conversations happening around you.
Jay's friend persisted, nudging him with a mischievous grin. "Come on, man, just give them the letter. It's not that difficult."
Jay's eyes widened with a hint of panic, quickly shushing his friend. "No way, I can't do that," he whispered urgently. "And lower your voice! We don't want the whole class to know."
His friend chuckled, but lowered his voice as instructed. "Why not? You've been crushing on them for months now. It's time to make a move."
Jay fidgeted in his seat, his cheeks turning a faint shade of pink. "I don't know, man. What if they don’t feel the same way? It'll just make things awkward."
His friend leaned closer, whispering in a conspiratorial tone. "Trust me, Jay. I've seen the way they look at you when you're not looking. There's definitely something there. You just need to take the chance."
Jay's gaze shifted nervously towards you, who seemed engrossed in your work, unaware of the conversation unfolding nearby. His heart pounded in his chest as he contemplated the possibility of confessing his feelings. The fear of rejection battled against the hope of reciprocation within him.
After a moment of hesitation, Jay let out a sigh, realizing that his friend might be onto something. "Fine," he whispered reluctantly. "I'll think about it, okay? But no guarantees."
He stole another glance at you, his eyes softening with affection. As the class continued, he found himself lost in thoughts of what might be, contemplating the possibility of taking a leap of faith and sharing his true feelings with you.
As you were engrossed in your writing, you noticed Jay discreetly sliding something towards you. Curiosity piqued, you removed your earbud and met his gaze, sensing his nervousness. "Just read it," he stammered, his voice betraying his inner turmoil.
Putting the earbud back in, you carefully looked at the envelope, intrigued by its possible contents. A cute sticker adorned the front, causing a smile to grace your lips as you peeled it off.
With anticipation, you unfolded the letter and began reading its words, immersing yourself in the words. Jay discreetly stole a few glances at you, his heart pounding in his chest, anxious about your reaction.
"I always find myself questioning the warm, bubbly feeling inside me. Who and what made me feel this way? Well it was simple; the answer is you. It would be foolish not to seize this opportunity to confess my feelings. So, here I am, presenting you with this letter to express what I've been wanting to say. Perhaps it's a cowardly move to resort to written words instead of speaking them directly, but it brings me a sense of peace to share my feelings with you in this way.
Anyway, YN, I like you. More than you may realize. I find myself constantly drawn to you, observing you as you work and have fun with your friends. You have an undeniable ability to light up the entire room, whether you believe it or not.
Being with you evokes emotions I've never experienced before. It's inexplicable, but undeniably positive. You have made me discover what it truly means to have a crush on someone.
You will always be remembered as the best seatmate I could ever ask for. Now, to avoid overwhelming you any further, please know that you are under no obligation to accept this confession. Even if you don't, my feelings for you will persist. I have no problem with waiting for you until I can’t no more.
So, please don't keep me waiting any longer and let me know your answer. I have intentionally left a blank space for you to fill.
With sincerest affection,
Jay"
You wore a broad smile on your face, reaching for the pen on your desk. With a sense of excitement, you began writing your response, carefully choosing your words. Once finished, you folded the letter back up and confidently pushed it towards Jay, who was anxiously fidgeting nearby. With anticipation in his eyes, he eagerly took hold of the letter and unfolded it, ready to read your reply.
"The answer will always be yes for you,” he read the words, his face lighting up with a radiant smile. Playfully, he jotted down a little something on the paper, his smile growing cheekier by the second. Instead of folding the letter, he simply slid it across your desk, leaving it open for you to see.
"Let's seal this agreement with a kiss, shall we?" you couldn't help but chuckle, feeling a mix of embarrassment and amusement. "That was quite cheesy, Jay," you teased, finally turning to face him and removing your earbuds.
"Your blushing face tells a different story," he remarked, pointing out the obvious flush on your cheeks, a mischievous smile playing on his lips. "But, you know, you don't have to—"
Before he could finish his sentence, you silenced him with a quick, unexpected kiss. The bold move left him momentarily speechless, his own face turning red as the realization sunk in. While his intention was merely to provoke a reaction from you, he couldn't deny the rush of excitement that coursed through him now.
“Quite bold, aren’t we?” he chuckled, feeling a surge of heat rush to his cheeks. He playfully fanned himself, trying to hide his flustered state.
"You started it," you replied, a mischievous laughter escaping your lips as you enjoyed the sudden role reversal.
"Wanna finish this assignment together?" he asked, turning his attention back to the task at hand. You nodded in agreement, prompting him to move closer and place his textbook between your desks.
In a bold move, you reached out and took his hand, holding it discreetly under the desks. He squeezed your hand in response, his heart racing with excitement.
"How am I supposed to focus on the work now?" Jay chuckled, pretending to be distracted by your touch.
"Don't worry," you reassured him, a playful grin on your face. "I can work on it while you provide the answers. You can just copy it later."
"Sounds like a plan," Jay agreed, glancing at your notes and offering his input.
Meanwhile, Chaewon watched the two of you with a knowing smile, silently celebrating the fact that you had finally become an item. It was a moment she had been eagerly anticipating for ages, and now her efforts had finally paid off.
💭 — jay one chance 🙏🙏
ENHA PERM TAGLIST — @flwoie @ixomiyu @yenavrse @shinsou-rii @bearseulgs @ilovewonyo @yenqa @dimplewonie @bubblytaetae @wtfhyuck @ineedaherosavemeenow @starcubes @starikizs @wonioml @chirokookie @xiaoderrrr @neozon3nha @en-chantedtomeetyou @millksea @enhaz1 @eundiarys @woon2u @ja4hyvn @judeduartewannabe @j-wyoung @thia-aep @vampcharxter @softpia @officiallyjaehyuns @itsactuallylina @hsheart @sweetjaemss @ahnneyong @hanienie @jwnghyuns @kpoplover718 @jiawji @rikizm @haknom @yeokii @wvnkoi @whoschr @teddywonss @shinunoga-iie-wa @flwrshee @skzenhalove @chaewon-slays @misoxhappy @s00buwu @ox1-lovesick
#k-labels#kflixnet#hyfenet#enhypen#enhypen jay#enhypen headcanons#enhypen scenarios#enhypen imagines#enhypen ff#enhypen fanfics#enhypen fluff#enhypen x reader#enhypen fanfic#jay headcanons#jay scenarios#jay imagines#jay ff#jay x reader#jay fluff#kpop#kpop headcanons#kpop scenarios#kpop imagines#kpop ff#kpop fanfic#kpop oneshots#enhypen oneshots#jay oneshots#kpop fluff#enhypen fics
424 notes
·
View notes
Text
hold on ; billy butcher
fandom: the boys
pairing: billy x reader
summary: you’re the youngest member of the boys and you hate that butcher insists on calling you ‘kid’ so you show him in more ways than one that you are not a child
notes: this is very weak, but it was kind of good writing practice because i definitely don’t write a lot of action (i’m so sorry if it sucks)! as always, please let me know what you think!
warnings: a lot of swearing, google translated french, age gap (not specified, but inferred) guns, violence, a dagger, explosion, descriptions of wounding (please don’t read if any of this is triggering for you!)
word count: 4310
Butcher is an asshole. You knew that from the moment you met him. He is rude, and brash, and impulsive to the point that made you believe he didn’t have an angel on one of his shoulders, only two antagonistic little devils. You often found yourself itching to dig your fist into his face, especially when he called you by the stupid nickname he coined the moment he met you. Kid, or The Kid, if you weren’t in the room. It vexed you beyond belief, and you knew exactly why.
Butcher is an asshole, but he’s also fucking gorgeous. He’s tall and broad, and his voice is so delicious, it often finds its way into your filthiest dreams. To say you were obsessed with the man wouldn’t be an overstatement, and it was no secret, everyone but Butcher himself knows it. You’ve wanted him from the moment you met him, but then he went ahead and called you ‘kid’ and you quickly realised that he didn’t see you as anything more than one of the boys. The youngest one of the boys.
“Are you okay, mon amour?” Frenchie asks, nudging you with his shoulder.
You look at the man sitting beside you, dressed head to toe in black with a bandolier slung across his body. The van rattles as it hits a bump, and across from you, MM casts an angry glare toward the driver’s seat.
“I’m good,” you reply, flexing your fingers around the gun laying across your lap.
You were no stranger to the weapon, having spent years training in the special forces before flunking out the minute you found out about the movement for Supes to be contracted into the military. You were furious and scared, and then you ran into an old neighbour whose mother used to be book club buddies with yours – Hughie – and the rest is history.
“Butcher’s on location,” MM says, tucking his phone back into the pocket on his vest.
“Make sure he waits,” Hughie calls from the front of the van. “It’ll take me five minutes to get eyes on the whole building, but he can’t go in blind.”
MM looks at Frenchie, “Are you sure about this?”
“Positive,” Frenchie replies, “They will not be prepared for a raid, and they will have the information we need.”
“And how many are going to be willing to give it to us?” you ask.
He grimaces, “Not many, but I do not doubt your persuasion skills, mon cherie.”
“Persuasion,” you scoff, looking down at the weapon in your lap.
Don’t get it wrong, you weren’t some kind of super CIA motherfucker who should be feared by all, but you were pretty swift when you needed to be. You weren’t overly worried about the mission, not with Frenchie, MM, and Butcher at your back, but you hadn’t properly exercised your training in months. You know you’re going to be rusty, and you don’t exactly know what you’re walking into, but Frenchie does, and he’s confident in your ability.
The objective was simple. Frenchie had some old friends who were keeping tabs on his and Butcher’s movements and feeding them back to someone who was then getting them to Vought somehow. All you had to do was shut them down and find out who their contact was, and probably murder more than half of them in the process. Simple, right? Except for the fact that not even Frenchie knew exactly how many men you were running in on, or what kind of weapons they had.
“We’re here,” Hughie announces, just before the three of you in the back lurch forward with the sudden stop of the van.
You button up the fastenings on your fingerless gloves and check that your bandolier is packed with extra magazines before standing up. MM opens the doors for Hughie, and he jumps up into the back of the van with his laptop under his arm. Frenchie pulls a small stool from the storage cage and plants it in front of the flip down desk as Hughie begins unpacking his equipment. No more than five minutes pass before video images start popping up in black and white squares across the screens.
“Butcher,” Hughie says, tucking his earpiece in, “can you hear me?”
You fix your own piece into your ear before routinely checking the clips and fastenings across your tact suit.
“I can ‘ear you,” Butcher’s voice rumbles in your ear, and you can feel your cheeks flush pink.
“Alright,” Hughie scans the screens in front of him, “they’ve got pretty high tech surveillance, but their security isn’t great. I’m getting twenty-two heat signatures, most in the basement, a couple on the ground floor, and three on the fourth. According to Frenchie’s intel, there are other tenants in the building, so my guess is that three up top aren’t apart of this.”
“The two at ground level are most likely security,” Frenchie says. “There are always one or two of them watching the building’s main entrance.”
“But there’s another way in?” MM asks.
Hughie nods, “Looks like you can access the basement from the back, but that’s probably their main point of access, so you’ll want to find another way in.”
“You tellin’ me there’s one fuckin’ door to this place?” Butcher’s voice comes through the earpiece again, and you have to flex your fingers around your gun to remind yourself to focus.
“The backdoor and the building’s main stairwell,” Frenchie replies.
“Two fuckin’ doors?” Butcher says. “Fuckin’ hell, Frenchie, how the hell are we s’pposed to get out if things go wrong?”
“Nothing will go wrong,” Frenchie states, giving you an incredibly confident grin.
Your stomach twists nervously, but you don’t let it show, returning his grin with a nod and a small smile.
“There are windows,” Hughie says, “but only Y/N will fit, maybe Frenchie.”
“Then we go first,” you look at Frenchie, “through the windows and make sure Butcher and MM can get in the back.”
“No fuckin’ way,” Butcher snaps. “We don’t know what kind of weapons these cunts got, and if you two get overpowered, we won’t be able to get in ‘n’ help. We all go in the backdoor, force our way in.”
Frenchie chuckles, “You are a fan of forcing yourself into the backdoor, Monsieur Charcutier?”
MM snorts while you and Hughie snicker, but there isn’t a sound from Butcher.
“Look,” you say, “I appreciate your concern, Butcher, but we have the best chance of surprising them by slipping in where they won’t expect.”
Frenchie giggles again at your unintentional innuendo.
“Listen, Kid,” Butcher says, sending wave of irritation through your body, “I appreciate your concern, but I ain’t lettin’ you ‘n’ Frenchie get killed for somethin’ as trivial as a bit of intel.”
“I’m not a fucking kid, Butcher,” you bite back, at which everyone in the van startles. “Frenchie and I will meet you at the backdoor.”
You pull your black kerchief up over your nose and crack the van’s doors open, peaking out cautiously before stepping down and into the dark night. Frenchie and MM follow your silent footsteps toward the brick building, skirting around the side until you find the low and narrow basement windows. You point at MM and then toward the back of the building, and he nods before hurrying off.
“There’s a guard waiting outside the backdoor,” Hughie’s voice comes through your earpiece.
You hear a couple of grunts before MM says, “Not anymore.”
“Do you have Butcher?” Hughie asks.
“We’re in position,” MM affirms.
You nod at Frenchie and he gestures for you to go first, so you turn to the closest window. You take a deep breath before crouching beside the window and gripping a lip in the brickwork to help swing your body through. Using your chunky black boots, you kick the window in and follow the momentum with your feet first. You hit the concrete floor with a thud, quickly darting to the side before Frenchie drops down in the same fashion.
“What the fuck?!” one of the men shouts, scrambling to get up from the old and torn sofa on which he sat.
Your hands are on your gun before you can remember thinking about it, and a gunshot bursts in your left ear as a thug across the room fires at you, missing completely. You take aim and shoot his shoulder, making him drop his gun and crumple to the floor in pain. Two more bullets hit the brick wall behind you, and two more of the gangsters fall with wounds in their shoulders. Frenchie is already rushing to the backdoor, and you cover him easily by dropping three more men with pistols and hitting one in the leg who was scrambling toward the stairs. A cluster of lankier looking men cower in what looks like a makeshift drug lab, all wearing rubber aprons and protective goggles over their eyes. You turn away from them and take down another heading for the stairs, watching him fall on top of his comrade before whipping around and firing at a thug who was pointing his gun at Frenchie. The bullet cracks as it hits him in the side of the head, but you don’t have time to regret your aim before someone tackles you from behind. You duck forward, gripping his thick arms before he can strangle you, and use his momentum to throw him onto his back on the floor in front of you with a loud thump.
Your gun is back in your hands as you scan the room over its barrel, a familiar sense a satisfaction quelling your fight mode when you find every assailant either downed or cowering with their hands up. The backdoor creaks open, and MM and Butcher march in with guns up before stopping abruptly at the sight of the pacified room.
“What did I tell you, eh?” Frenchie says, and you hear it more in your earpiece than from across the room. “She is fucking incroyable.”
“Holy shit,” MM mutters, lowering his gun.
Butcher’s eyes are wild above his face covering, filled with an emotion you can’t discern as he stares at you across the dark room.
“Alright,” Frenchie shouts, pulling his kerchief down, “where the fuck is Lafeyette?”
The room stays quiet, but the four of you slowly cast heavy glares across the fallen thugs until one of the timid lab assistants points a shaking finger toward the two men collapsed by the stairs.
“Time to talk you filthy sac de merde,” Frenchie spits, as he and Butcher stalk toward the men.
MM nods at you as he readjusts his gun and widens his stance, guarding the door in case anyone thinks of trying to escape. Your fighter instincts settle at the slight sense of security, and you sling your gun over your shoulder as you approach the small drug lab.
“What are your names?” you ask the men.
Three of them glance at the shortest of the four, and with trembling hands he moves his goggles onto his head, revealing two clean circles of skin around his bright blue eyes.
“I am Gabriel,” he says, his accent thicker than Frenchie’s, “this is Théo, Lucas, and Éliott. They do not speak English.”
“Can they understand it?”
He nods, “Mostly.”
“Good,” you nod and hold your hands up, “I’m not going to hurt you, unless you give me a reason to.”
They all shake their heads vigorously.
“Are you here because you want to be?” you ask them.
“No,” Gabriel replies, and the other three shake their heads again.
“How did you get here?”
“Théo and I came together,” Gabriel says, “without papers, and Monsieur Toussaint said he would get us citizenship. Lucas and Éliott were here already, and they have kept us from leaving.”
You gesture to the bench full of laboratory equipment, “You make drugs for them?”
“Oui,” he nods, “Lucas is a- uh, how do you say un scientifique?”
“A scientist,” MM calls out from behind you.
“Oui,” Gabriel nods again, “he teaches us to cook.”
You frown, “Do you have any family here?”
“Théo has family in America,” he replies.
“Does he know where they are? Can you contact them if we help you leave?”
His bright blue eyes sparkle with hope, “Oui!”
You nod, “Good, we’re going to try and help you, okay?”
You barely finish your sentence before MM screams your name, and you feel the weight of a large hand on your left shoulder, dragging you back and blocking your ability to grab your gun. You crouch under the pressure and reach your thigh holster with your right hand, gripping the hilt of your dagger. You unsheathe it as you turn in a full one-eighty, escaping the assailant’s grasp and sweeping underneath his arm with your dagger outstretched. The blade slashes horizontally right beneath his kneecap, causing him to buckle as you rise to your full height and lacerate his throat. You leap back to avoid the spray of blood and falling body, watching the man slump face first into the concrete floor at your feet.
When you look up, you find every pair of – conscious – eyes on you, a mixture of terror and disbelief written across the room of faces.
“Are you okay?” Frenchie asks, though there is more pride than concern in his expression.
“I’m good,” you reply, crouching down to clean each side of your dagger on the dead man’s shirt before tucking it back into your holster.
Butcher drops the collar of who you assume is Lafayette, and you still can’t read his face behind his kerchief as he stares at you.
“Uh, guys,” Hughie’s voice speaks into your ear, “someone heard the gunshots, you’ve got emergency response on site in less than five minutes.”
Frenchie swings his foot into Lafayette’s stomach before nodding at MM, “Let’s go.”
You turn to the four lab assistants and gesture toward the backdoor. They scramble to remove their protective gear before hurrying toward MM who guides them out. Frenchie jogs past you, but Butcher stops and holds his hand out.
He pulls his kerchief down, “I’ll do it, you get out of ‘ere, Kid.”
“Fat chance,” you scoff, “now go.”
You’ve already got the gas canister in hand, and he knows you’ll pop it before he can argue, so he turns and mutters something inaudible as he stalks toward the door.
With your kerchief securely up over your nose, you release the pin and throw the gas into the room before turning to the lab table. You work quickly, pouring the two vials that Frenchie gave you into an empty beaker and setting it atop a lit burner. In five long leaps, you’re out the door and slamming it shut before sprinting away.
Butcher is waiting for you just around the side of the building, his hand outstretched. You barely have time to grab it before a huge explosion blows through the low basement windows and shakes the entire building. Butcher pulls your body against his, pivoting so that his back is to the blast as it knocks both of you off your feet. You hit the ground and your ears ring, but you don’t feel a single bit of debris hit you thanks to the body lying on top of yours.
“Fuck,” Butcher curses, though his voice sounds distant in your ringing ears.
You look up at him, his face inches from yours and smattered with dust and dirt. The adrenaline coursing through your veins has your whole body on high alert, overly aware of every part of him that is pressed against you.
He looks down at you, his pupils blown wide as his gaze darts to your lips. He licks his own, his chest heaving against yours and your head spins with a thousand filthy thoughts. For a split second, you think he might kiss you, and your breath catches in your throat in anticipation, but then he pushes himself up and offers his hand. You sigh and take it, letting him haul you off the ground.
“You alrigh’, Kid?” he asks.
“I’m not a fucking kid,” you spit, snatching your hand from his.
You run toward the van and leap into the open doors, Butcher at your heels. Hughie slams on the accelerator before Frenchie has even closed the doors, and you instinctually grab onto the nearest thing to steady yourself. It just so happens to be Butcher, and you know not from the scratch of his beard against your temple as you cling to him, but his scent. Warm and woody, with hint of apple-scented soap and whiskey.
You retract quickly and fall into the seat on the opposite side of the van, resting your head back against the blocked-out window.
“What the fuck, Frenchie?” MM exclaims. “You said that would be a small explosion, that it would look like an accident.”
Frenchie grimaces, “I did not account for the other reactants in the lab.”
Butcher sits quietly across from you, his eyes trained on you as you do everything you can to avoid looking in his direction. You focus on your gun, unlocking the empty clip and clicking the safety on. MM and Frenchie speak with the four timid men huddled at the back of the van, asking them a series of questions before deciding where would be best to take them.
After a painfully long drive, Hughie stops the van and Frenchie helps the four men out of the back doors. He tells you all to go back to the safe house and he will be there soon. The rest of the ride home is tense and silent, MM not daring to speak once he sees the irritated frown on your face as you fiddle with your equipment, packing it into cases and locking it in the van’s storage cage.
Once safe inside the decrepit apartment you currently call home, Hughie grins at you, “Holy shit, Y/N, you are fucking bad ass.”
“Thanks,” you mutter, starting on the clips of your tact suit.
“I wish I saw all of it,” MM says, “you’re deadly.”
A small smile quirks the corner of your lip, and you let out a small sigh as you release the last buckle on your Kevlar vest. You drop the heavy thing on the dining table along with your bandolier.
“I’m still pissed that you didn’t listen to me,” Butcher states, at which you roll your eyes, “but you did good, Kid.”
Your head snaps in his direction, your eyes narrowing at him. “Do I look like a fucking child, Butcher?”
Hughie’s grin vanishes and MM freezes on his way to the couch.
“Do I?” you press, holding your arms out as if to emphasise your attire. “Because a fucking kid couldn’t do what I just did, yet you insist on calling me by that fucking name!”
He doesn’t flinch the way Hughie does, nor are his eyes as wary as MM’s. He remains his usual cool self, though his frown is more curious than irate.
“Didn’t realise it bugged ya so much,” he says.
“You don’t fucking realise much, do you, Butcher?” you snap, before turning on your heel and marching toward the room that was designated yours.
You march inside and slam the door, but a pair of heavy boots are hot on your heels, and you curse the landlord for not installing any locks as the door swings open again.
“What the fuck is your problem?” Butcher demands, slamming the door once again behind him.
You unzip your outer jacket and throw it on the bed, “Didn’t I make it clear?”
“Uh, no, actually,” he steps toward you, “I’m not fuckin’ pissed about the raid, I’m pretty fuckin’ impressed, but you’re still throwin’ a tantrum like a fuckin’-”
“Like a child?”
His eyes narrow, and he crosses his arms over his chest, “I was gon’a say kid.”
You clench your fists in an attempt to refocus your frustration, digging your fingernails into your palms until it stings.
“Look,” he says, “I know you’re capable, and fuckin’ talented with a gun, but I wasn’t tryin’ to be a dick, I was tryin’ to keep you safe.”
“Because I’m so young and stupid?” you ask, voice dripping with sarcasm. “Because I can’t fucking handle myself even though I just prevented all of you from getting your fucking asses kicked?”
He sighs, “I never said you’re fuckin’ stupid.”
“But I am young,” you mutter, your voice revealing more emotion than you intended.
His brows shift into a dubious frown, “What’s this fuckin’ obsession with your age?”
“What’s your obsession with my age?” you snap, “Calling me ‘kid’ all the time and acting like you’re my fucking babysitter.”
“Oh, so fuck me for caring ‘bout your safety, is that it?”
“No, Billy, that’s not it,” you sigh, tearing your gaze from his to focus on unclipping your thigh holster.
“Then what is it? ‘Cause I don’t know what I’ve fuckin’ done!”
Your holster comes loose and you grip the hilt of the dagger with white knuckles, standing straight again.
“You haven’t done anything!”
“Then what haven’t I fucking done?!” he exclaims, unfolding his arms and throwing his hands up.
The little voice in your head splits into a thousand, screaming a thousand different commands at you. Cry, yell at him, throw something at him, scream, hit your head against the fucking wall, punch him in the throat… kiss him.
Your ears, still numb from the explosion, fill with the sound of your thumping heartbeat as you take three quick steps toward him. His height is intimidating, but you don’t have time to regret your decision as your fingers curl into the material of his shirt and pull him toward you. You have to stretch onto your toes, your other hand finding his chest for stability as you crush your lips against his.
For a second, you think you’ve seriously fucked up, but then his mouth begins to move against yours and your knees buckle. His arms catch you, wrapping around your waist and holding your body against his as his tongue slides across your bottom lip. You part your lips with a sigh, and he takes all control, claiming your mouth and wiping your mind of any thought that isn’t him.
In two easy steps, he backs you against the bed, sitting you down without his lips ever leaving yours. He crawls on top of you, straddling your thighs and catching your hands as they find the buckle on his belt.
“Love,” he sighs against your lips, “hold on.”
You blink up at him, slowly coming down from your high, “To what?”
He chuckles, “I meant slow down a sec.”
“Oh,” your cheeks burn, and you snatch your hands out of his grasp. “I’m sorry.”
“Don’t ever fuckin’ apologise for that,” he says, a dopey smile on his lips, “but I don’t know-”
“I do,” you interrupt him, holding yourself up on your elbows.
He raises his brows, “What do you know?”
“I know that I want you,” you reply, “and I know that you want me. I don’t know if this is a good idea, but it fucking feels like it, so please, Butcher… please.”
“Fuck,” he groans, his eyes lingering on your lips before trailing down your body to where he sat. “I know I want you, but why the fuck do you want me?”
You snort, “You’re kidding, right?”
He only frowns.
“Butcher, I have wanted you from the moment I fucking met you,” you fall back against the bed with a sigh, “I don’t know how you haven’t fucking noticed.”
He leans over you, holding himself up with a hand either side of your head. “Why?”
His voice is so deep and his eyes so dark, you struggle to breathe as your clothes suddenly feel like they’re strangling you.
“Because you’re-”
“An asshole?”
You giggle, “Yes, and rude, and brash, but you’re also fucking beautiful.”
His heavy breathing suddenly stops and his eyes widen as they search yours, as if looking for some sense of deception or sarcasm. You open your mouth to reassure him but he swallows your words with a kiss, his lips crashing into yours with bruising force. His mouth moves across your jaw and down your neck, and you whine when pulls away before quickly realising that your high-neck undershirt is in the way. His fingers find the hem and yank it up over your breasts, not bothering to remove it completely before his lips assault your chest, biting and soothing your skin in five separate spots as you writhe beneath him.
He moves down, placing a kiss on your sternum and your stomach, before pausing at the waistband of your pants and looking up with hungry eyes. “You sure ‘bout this?”
His hot breath fans your skin and goosebumps rise in response.
You nod, “Yes, please, Butcher. Yes.”
The buckle and button are loosened in a second, and he groans at the sight of your lacy black panties. He places a hot, wet kiss just above the hem before sitting back and unbuttoning his own shirt. He doesn’t manage to shrug it off though, because you take the opportunity to grip either side of it and pull him back down on top of you. The feeling of his skin against yours makes your whole body clench, and you know you’re kissing him sloppily but he doesn’t seem to mind.
Your fingers find his belt again, struggling to remember how the damn thing works when he pulls away with a gasp, “Hold on.”
You frown, “What now?”
He chuckles, “No, sweethear’, not like that.”
His hands take yours guiding them up over your head until you feel the wood of the headboard at your fingertips.
“I said, hold on.”
END.
#billy butcher#the boys#karl urban#billy butcher x reader#one shot#imagine#fanfiction#homelander#hughie campbell#karl urban x reader#butcher x reader#mothers milk#mm#frenchie
984 notes
·
View notes
Text
Me reading this book is like trying to pin things to a cork board with red thread but the things I'm trying to pin down are fog and they vanish before I can grasp them.
Here's a visual representation of me finishing a chapter:
previously, in harrowbeenie the ninth:
this happened
currently, after chapter 5 (you're gonna have to be patient with this one):
we're moving back and forth between the second and third person
knowing now the content of the letters that yandere twin had talked about in the prologue, it makes some sense
but we aren't there yet
I need to point out something I don't think I specified enough last time
ice cube barbie changed eyes
people be changin' eyes here
she used to have eyes like harrow and now she has, and I quote: "ever since you had writhed in Lyctoral agony, her eyes had turned a yellow that made you dizzy to behold: a bronzed, hot, animal yellow, as amber as the inside of an egg"
this is from gideon's last ch.: "Gideon's eyes, as they always did, startled her: their deep, chromatic amber, the startling hot gold of freshly-brewed tea"
just gonna leave that there
but now, moving forward...or backwards to ch. 3 flashback of sorts
we got a recap of most of the events we knew, but in a gideon-less ver.
I'm gonna also point out that harrowbean mentions her mother holding her wrist the same way she said ice cube barbie did when they were in the coffin hangar
another addition to the clown emperor's story is that the Resurrection is described in harrow's memories as "ten thousand years ago had given them all release from death that none of them had deserved"
I don't know about any of this
we've got a disturbance in the force when harrow describes her parents finding out about the tomb thing
it says "her parents had...found out...about what she had done"
interesting edit of the story there
there's a gideon-sized hole in this story
there's also an interesting new count of nooses??
she says they tied five, two for mortus (???) but in gideon's book she said they tied their own nooses and then helped her tie hers, what's up with mortus having two??? is this nothing and I'm just obsessing about every detail???
I'm gonna start seeing palmolive's force ghost roaming around my house
at the end of ch. 3 it says "there had been another girl who grew up alongside Harrow—but she had died before Harrow was born"
this is a VERY INTERESTING wording
if someone dies before you are born, they can't grow up with you
UNLESS
I'm not gonna dwell on that yet
let's put a pin on that
ch. 4 has the re-apparition of yandere twin
*live studio audience cheers, maybe*
she gives her a letter addressed to her from her
the letter has a lot of instructions of things she doesn't remember at all and also are supposed to be opened at specific times/events
one of them says "in the event of the emperor's death"
another says it's in case she sees regina george twin, which makes a whole argument happen and knives are used to settle it
yandere twin will not hear someone imply her sister might be no longer with us
she probably isn't dead, this I know for certain, people wouldn't be confusing my names for them if that was all we got from her
the most important letter, though, is the one in case she sees camilla, who harrow claims not having interacted with ever
this is a very important thing to note, but most importantly, CAMILLA MENTION
very important to be noting who harrow remembers interacting with and who she doesn't
very important as well that she remembers yandere twin losing an arm in battle but does not remember gideon or camilla
I haven't mentioned it yet but, in the letter, past!harrow tells present!harrow that she needs to check yandere twin's tongue and lower mandibule
to which I think to myself "I bet she's gonna kiss her"
and that she did
which makes me want an edition of this book but with gideon commentary
like a dvd commentary but it's gideon commenting on all this stuff
and cracking jokes
because I bet she'd be cracking jokes about this
remember when she joked that yandere twin would marry mayonnaise uncle?
and then both harrow and mayonnaise uncle were like "ew the third's magic is weird"
imagine if she saw this display
another CRUCIAL thing is that harrow is doing like an oath to yandere twin as requested by past!harrow
and she says "by the ripped and remade soul of ortus nigenad"
and yandere twin goes "who? oh, yes—the cavalier"
I mean, mood at not remembering the names, but also SUSPICIOUS BEHAVIOR
she also tells present!harrow "I gave you something you cared about very deeply at the time"
side note, there is yet another moment in which chad is read for filth
get obliterated even in undeath, chad
last detail from this chapter is that harrowbean almost gets assassinated
maybe I should have started with that
at this point there's so much going on, death seems like a normal one
so yeah, she's gonna get killed with a pillow to the face and then she defends herself and discovers at the end of the chapter that she didn't hallucinate the whole thing and it was hidden from her on purpose that somebody tried to end her
so what's the point in being in this clown death star and surviving big brother canaan house if you can't even sleep peacefully???
moving on to chapter 5
remember the timeline I was making?
yeah, about that
chapter 5, in the third person continuity, establishes that what I saw previously was not necessarily a memory but an au memory
if we can call it something at this point
so my calculations were made as if the timeline was one
but this is not one timeline, it's a sort of parallel gideon-less one
of course my heart is making me believe the gideon-less one is the one that isn't real
and that past!harrow might know what's going on with that
maybe gideon's existence needs to be protected
maybe the emperor doesn't have to know about her
(I'm still holding on to the gideon hope, leave me alone)
but, in any case, present!harrow doesn't know
let's remember the prologue begun with harrow doing something she shouldn't and yandere twin saying something like "was there something in those letters I don't know about?"
I'm just gonna have to throw my timeline in the trash and start over with multiple timelines for now
ALSO, I didn't say anything about it yet, but it's mentioned that harrow is "in love" with ice cube barbie
take that as you will
which is another joke gideon has made in the past and would be stellar in a commentary of this
and, talking about things gideon would be awesome at commenting
in the new ortus-inclusive (?) narrative, ortus is talking about the epic of Matthias Nonius, who we know because harrow has compared gideon to him in the past
and also there's is a comment made about how ortus looks down on people who read "prurient magazines or pamphlets"
I really need gideon confessionals commentary over here
she also says that "the ninth house character, she was forced to admit, had always been low on wild and confident fucks"
yeah, well, how about that
and we end with THE FLIMSY
lots of important flimsies in this
she finds a note that reads "THE EGGS YOU GAVE ME ALL DIED AND YOU LIED TO ME"
ortus says he can't read it
but, in any case,
that made me stop in my tracks because I was reminded I forgot about the writing on the walls of canaan house?????
I filed it under canaan house weirdness but then, it was never talked about?????? again????
also the paper gideon found with her name
which I assumed was addressing the other gideon that not!dulcinea mentioned knowing
but who tf knows at this point
who knows what time and space are anymore
time to leave it for today...this is getting wild, you guys
#luly reacts to tlt#tlt spoilers#harrow the ninth#harrow the ninth spoilers#the locked tomb#long post#gif cw#me looking for that scene of Kim just to make that gif#I need to start making these shorter istg
143 notes
·
View notes
Text
zb1 as your classmates
genre: fluff, comedy
pairing: reader (gn) x all members of zerobaseone
about/tags: what i think zb1 would be like as a classmate
friendship vibes for most, some have romance, members that are classmates with each other are specified (regardless of age), inspired by a tweet i saw here, bullet points plot, lowercase intentional
⠀⠀ kim jiwoong ⠀⠀
everyone has a crush on jiwoong
even kids from other schools have a crush on jiwoong
but he's literally known to be unattainable
he always says that he likes someone else
you guys are so lowkey that no one knows that you two are in a relationship until the end of the school year
literally, the last subject of the last day
the teacher asked him to distribute the final graded tests to everyone in the class
the only reason people find out is bc as he's handing yours to you he accidentally says "congrats on the 99 babe"
you hear everyone in the room go "baBE????"
⠀⠀ zhang hao ⠀⠀
despite his quiet nature, hao is loved by a lot of people (teachers included!)
people trust him and they don't think he's capable of spilling any secrets
your friendship starts when he overhears you gossiping about some dumb relationship drama in the library
and hao interrupts you with a "no no no, THIS is what happened"
from then on you'd spend free period talking shit about people and gossiping about the drama that's currently circulating among the teacher crowd
he texts you sometimes with a "lol i just found something out, i'll tell you at school tom"
and you're always begging him to tell you now
but he insists that he doesn't want a digital footprint of it
you respond by sending him the dancing videos he has all over the internet
"digital footprint my ass, hao"
⠀⠀ sung hanbin ⠀⠀
he wakes you up every time you fall asleep during class
he tries to do it discreetly but because he sits in front and you directly behind him, it's quite obvious what he's trying to do
ends up drawing attention to you anyways
5 out of 10 times the teacher gets mad
hanbin always makes an "oops im so sorry" face
he lends you his notes for the classes you do sleep through tho
starts bringing you coffees from his cafe
from then on you are so so so productive
hanbin jokes that your grades are thanks to him
you agree
⠀⠀ seok matthew ⠀⠀
never brings his own things to school ever
sometimes he shows up with just a water bottle
and you're like?? where are your books? your pen?
every time he needs a pencil or eraser he turns around and asks if he could borrow yours
you have gotten so used to it that you end up preparing two of everything anyways
so whenever the teacher says "pop quiz bring out a sheet of paper", you're already passing him one before he even asks
you always get a ( ˶ˆᗜˆ˵ ) from him which is "thank you" in matthew language
⠀⠀ kim taerae ⠀⠀
taerae is always humming in class
or like tapping his pencil against his desk
sometimes both
and it drives you insane
but every time you turn to your left to tell him to stfu
he kinda just smiles at you like ˶ᵔ ᵕ ᵔ˶
so you face front once again and mind your own business
taerae's humming ends up becoming your white noise
sometimes while studying at home, you find yourself missing it
⠀⠀ ricky ⠀⠀
he sits behind you so when he stretches his legs he sometimes accidentally kicks your chair or the things you have on the floor
you always turn around expecting him to ask you a question or smthn
but he just stares back at you in confusion??
one day you were brushing your hair during lunch break and you accidentally left your brush on his table instead of yours
you found him using it the next period before gently placing it back on your desk
he also says stuff like "you look dead today" and hands you a slightly tinted strawberry chapstick
matthew teases the both of you about your "indirect kiss" (chapstick sharing)
ricky tells him to grow up
but he's blushing lol
⠀⠀ kim gyuvin ⠀⠀
the both of you are literally always snickering
gunwook tells you guys to shut up at least 10 times a day
whenever he does that you both end up mocking his "be quiet" face
he drops things often too (calculators, books, his laptop - you name it!) and it makes a loud sound that resonates throughout the room
he also brings way too many snacks, his backpack is like 80% food and 20% school
he passes you notes when he's bored and it's usually dumb prompts like
"if you could turn all the people in this classroom into an animal, what would each person be and why?"
when you don't wanna respond he bribes you with a snack
you laugh at least once a day thanks to gyuvin
⠀⠀ park gunwook ⠀⠀
he's the class president and it's so annoying because he sits right next to you
you literally feel like you're being watched by a hawk 24/7
one time you forgot to do the homework and since there were only 2 minutes left til the bell rings, you think you're in the clear
but you see gunwook about to raise his hand and YOU JUST KNOW he's going to bring it up to the teacher
in an act of desperation you reach for his hand and hold it down chanting "gunwook no pls no pls no pls no pls" in your head
his mind short circuits and he doesn't know why you're holding his hand, but he just stares at it
that effectively distracts him until the bell rang
when class is over you remove your hands from his and go about your day
he's stuck thinking "so, what are we?" in his head
⠀⠀ han yujin ⠀⠀
most peaceful deskmate ever
when he comes back from family trips he always has a souvenir for you
you help each other with homework often too
in fact you're partners with him in just about every project
invites you over to his house to work on said projects together
his mom makes snacks for you guys
one day gyuvin tags along and is like how come there's so much food??? there's never any food when i'm here???
yujin's mom likes you the most, therefore feeds you the most
A/N: i didn't go to a high school with boys so i really don't know what it's like lol
૮ ˶ᵔ ᵕ ᵔ˶ ა
✎ mobile masterlist
✉︎ request
#zb1 imagines#zb1 scenarios#boys planet drabbles#boys planet fanfic#boys planet scenarios#boys planet imagines#boys planet#zerobaseone#zb1 reactions#zb1 fluff#zb1 drabbles#kim jiwoong#zhang hao#sung hanbin#seok matthew#kim taerae#zb1 ricky#kim gyuvin#park gunwook#han yujin#boys planet fics#boys planet reactions#zb1 reaction#ricky shen
588 notes
·
View notes
Note
Hello, you can make a scenario 𝐗𝐢𝐞 𝐋𝐢𝐚𝐧 × 𝐌𝐚𝐥𝐞! 𝐑𝐞𝐚𝐝𝐞𝐫 × 𝐇𝐮𝐚 𝐂𝐡𝐞𝐧𝐠 Reader has known them for years and always had the mania of eating the nails until he is hurt and they cured it and tried to take away that habit then the years pass they havent seen each other and meet again but reader pretends to be someone else but they know it is him because of his habit of biting his nails but he does not know that they know it he just thinks he is nice to him as he would to anyone
Writer's Note(s): I can do this for you! Also, since you didn't specify if Reader was a Ghost/Heavenly Official/Mystical Monster I kept it ambiguous!
Info on Reader: Reader is intended AMAB, and uses he/him. The Reader is an immortal of some kind and knows the two characters from long ago, but age is ambiguous.
Timeline: Post Book 1, and in Book 2. Is in that timeframe. Spoilers for Ke Mo and Ban Yue, and the Ghost City.
【🔴】 Reader takes part in the dice roller scene. If you know, you know. Also, Hua Cheng bites Readers finger.
Fujoshis and Fem Readers DNI || Please enjoy!
Everyone in the group Xie Lian accompanied had strange backgrounds, behaviors, limits, and actions. He's not naive enough to not see the evidence that San Lang might be the mysterious Hua Cheng, or how the two assistants sent to protect him knew just a little too much about him and had specific memories they did not like to recall.
He could see many things, and he could understand a lot more than he could, say, 350 years ago. His mind remembers what his body could not, he likes to believe.
Especially when the tensions were so high during his adventures after his third ascension. Being in the rotation of San Lang, Fu Yao, Nan Feng... and you.
He could see glimpses of you in your disguise throughout the time he's seen you; with your choice of weapons, the food you prefer and how you cooked it, what type of clothes you prefer on other's and yourself.
But his major sign about who you might be―like San Lang's knowledge, like My Qing's eye rolls and hatred for his memories―was you biting your nails till the tips of your fingers were raw during stressful moments.
Everyone had nervous habits, even the most stoic still would like to dodge questions they prefer not to answer. And Xie Lian liked to fiddle with his bamboo hat, or start moving immediately to fix the situation.
Like Mu Qing and Feng Xin again after so long, it was almost like a lightbulb went off in his head. But unlike the unease of nostalgia hitting him, it was something warm in his heart and he was tempted to ask how you've held up all this time.
He also might have leaned on you too much during the situation between Ke Mo and Ban Yue because he knew you and what you could do. You were reliable and he did adore you...
And before long, he noticed his feelings were off somewhere and it was getting far more intimate between you two. And then you three.
San Lang―Hua Cheng proven at this point―also seemed to slither into his heart and rightfully so. He was kind, he was open about what he was comfortable sharing, San Lang treats you right, and he's sweet on him as well.
The emotions of potentially falling in love with two people at once, and seeing San Lang kiss your bandaged fingers after you chewed them raw stirred something like... butterflies, for no better comparison.
And then, Hua Cheng disappeared and you left him in one night. No notes, but all the evidence you existed around him. Breakfast from you, chopped wood from Hua Cheng, carpets on the line like you do, leaves raked like Hua Cheng.
Xie Lian ran back inside. You're not leaving him behind. He'll follow you both, to any end.
The City of Ghost's is good at bringing people together...
Red, red, red. The den of Gamblers was always filled with such color except when the customers would come in wearing anything but that. The attendants rotated the ghosts and Hua Cheng took what was owed and distributed... what he owed. If he even did.
The curtains between him and the current obsessed customer were briefly interrupted by a Heavenly Official (Lang Qingqiu) and the sudden appearance of three more individuals of interest. Of course, Shi Qingxuan was of interest because that means he had more than just one Heavenly Official in the Ghost City.
But seeing the veiled bamboo hat and the man next to him wearing a white veil to obscure their identity from afar, he could practically feel his non-existent heart beat and his fingers twitch. Who was this man under the veil? Why was he next to his gege and whispering back and forth so swiftly?
Hua Cheng was about to call them up as they figured out who would roll for Lang Qingqiu's freedom, when the man passed the roller to Xie Lian and rushed to bring his hand under his veil. For a brief moment, he thought the man would lift the veil, but the hand simply rested under it as Xie Lian looked up at Hua Cheng behind the curtains.
And then he felt the need to have you both step forward and to come to him so he can see you closer and fully. The curtains may not help seeing past your Veil of Illusion from over your face, but he could get a read on your demeanor and how you fall in line with his gege.
Having you both step forward because of the feminine announcer requesting for him was easy. "Would the challenger and his assistant with the veil please step forward. The proprietor would like to correct your dice rolling technique. It is incorrect."
Of course, gege is baffled and confused there is a technique to this, and so are the useless dreg that are his customers. The man under the veil takes after gege and helps escort him up with you, mumbling one or two things back and forth, before they stepped up to him.
Looking down at gege and trying to search for any sign of identity on the other man, he takes the offered dice roller and shows gege how to... handle the elongated item, and how to shake it up and down in even strokes. Gege's hands are strong and grip the roller harshly, so he offers to perhaps soften his touch in case he... breaks the roller.
He's helping. Honest.
And of course, the gesture has gege blanking before accepting the help he gave. But Hua Cheng wasn't done. And you aren't getting out of this without him seeing if he perhaps can identify you.
"In case your luck is bad or you're unsure if the dice aren't enchanted, I will allow this man to roll with you. I can tell your companion would know how to read magic." Hua Cheng states, knowing no slacker would wear a Veil of Illusion to the Gambler's Den. This one was smart. "But you'll have to roll at the same time."
"The same... time? How would I do that when my companion is holding the cup?" Your voice is familiar and yet so far away from what he expected. It wasn't the voice he had been waiting for (the voice of your disguise), it was something that hit his nostalgia in many ways.
"Here, I will show you." Hua Cheng assured. "Hold up the cup."
Of course, gege had terrible luck and would take any measures to make sure they didn't mess up with Lang Qingqiu, and extended the cup for instructions. "Take hold of it with your dominant hand over his shaking hand." You hesitate before you put your hand over his gege's. Good, the Ghost King thought, your not someone who sees themselves above gege in his den.
But it was after the instruction to use your other hand to hold the middle, while gege held the top and bottom, that he noticed you weren't wearing gloves or any kind of hand covering. Your nails were non-existent and your fingers were basically chewed to pieces and raw in some places, obviously chewed recently. That, and there was a specific bite mark over your index finger much further down on your non-dominant hand...
... While fixing up your hand after you had caught a sword in it, San Lang managed to lightly scold you while he patched it up. He knew you could just heal it instantly, but your fake identity was not supposed to be powerful, and it had to suffer with this annoying wound for appearance sake. Of course, Hua Cheng felt something stir in his stomach at the sight of your lightly bleeding fingers, and had taken your index into his mouth on instinct to taste the red stained there. If he might have bitten you out of surprise he had let his composure go, only he had to know...
"... Hua Cheng, sir?" Your voice snaps him out of his memories. You, the immortal under the veil, and gege hadn't been given the next instructions yet, and you sounded even more weary of this.
If he was young and human again, he was sure his face would heat and his body would betray him as the sight of having you and gege before him again was... something invigorating. He controlled all of his impulses with one short mantra he could remember, before he laughs off the wait you endured.
"Apologies, my dearest guests." He didn't give any excuse, all he gave was a simple instruction as he watches the roller between you both like a hawk. "Shake in a rhythm, match with your partner and cover where he cannot hold. The dice can't roll with no momentum."
Small Thing:
The Windmaster and Xie Lian look on as you fix your veil and make sure your outfit hasn't burned from the many fires they've had to put out from under you. A few feminine ghosts with fire inclined spells had taken a liking to your physique and your posture, and had tried to lift your veil with no results as you turned them down. Of course, getting into a fight hadn't been what you wanted, but winning was no issue with your squad as stacked as it was.
The Windmaster, Shi Qingxuan, had helped put out the final fire under your boots before making jokes at your expense. "Oh, our blushing husband, wearing his veil and not allowing anyone to see! Could he be a Ghost King in disguise? Could he be a rebellious or mysterious Heavenly Official? Wow is me!"
Of course, the God had taken off faster than strong winds could after you started chasing him in his feminine form. The Heavenly Official wasn't about to lose Xie Lian's trust by fighting the man he had accepted into their party on the way here, but he sure can tease you.
Xie Lian, when you returned to him and assured him you hadn't hurt your supposed guide at all, almost reached for your veil slowly to lift it just slightly. A face, so far in his memories lit his body on fire with a need to see it again... but he stopped short of seeing your chin. You hadn't stopped him and your adam's apple bobbed in anticipation and nerves. Xie Lian simply let the veil fall back down as his mind settled on what he wanted.
"I won't pry, but I'd love to see your face sometime." Xie Lian soothes your nerves while putting his hands on your arms gently.
"What if I'm not who you're looking for?" You ask him after a brief pause, your voice full of something bitter.
"You and San Lang, asking the wrong questions..." Xie Lian chided. I'd like you both no matter who or what you looked like. "You are him. But we're missing Hua Cheng."
There was a brief pause before whatever caused you to hesitate lets you go. "... We are. Let me lead you into the city, then, your Highness."
#Heaven Official's Blessing#Tian Guan Ci Fu#TGCF#Reader Insert#x Reader#Male Reader#HuaLian#Xie Lian#Xie Lian x Reader#Xie Lian x Male Reader#Hua Cheng#Hua Cheng x Reader#Hua Cheng x Male Reader#Xie Lian x Hua Cheng#Hua Cheng x Xie Lian#Heaven Official's Blessing x Reader#Heaven Official's Blessing x Male Reader#Tian Guan Ci Fu x Reader#Tian Guan Ci Fu x Male Reader#TGCF x Reader#TGCF x Male Reader
987 notes
·
View notes
Text
nepenthe: (n) "that which chases away sorrow".
pre tlt-tlo. luke castellan x child of a minor god!reader. 700 words, prologue.
synopsis: time keeps slipping away. luke slips along with it. you were never important enough to care, anyway.
warnings: godly parent of the reader isn't mentioned but is specified to be a minor god. mentions of luke and reader making out, reader is said to be the eldest out of their siblings, kind of toxic situationship between luke and reader. minor book spoilers? (I haven't watched the show yet)
note: i'm writing on tumblr after almost a year and a half, this isn't that gooduprwefjod. this is just a brief intro to the possibility of a bigger series under the same reader, kinda? if it does go ahead, it will be based on the books! idk how i feel about it so far, but I'm always open to listening to feedback!
At Camp Half Blood, there remain a few things you cannot learn, no matter the amount of harsh, gruesome training you’ve gone through.
For those who look for it, every day is a new lesson. For example, capture the flag: every game tells you more about your opponents and allies when you know how to look for it. With every game you start to notice how the Area kids undermine the minor gods in cabin eleven, almost forgetting their existence. You notice yourself clubbed with children of another minor god, despite sharing nothing with them, you notice the way Luke’s expression goes blank and tenses up when he notices that.
So you ask him about it late at night, away from the campfire and chaos, bodies pressed together and hips pressed against each other. He replies by biting on your bottom lip, you retaliate by pulling his hair. The next thing you know, you’re pushed up against the wall and a little over half an hour later you walk into an empty cabin eleven with a purple bruise blossoming on your neck and lips swollen red.
A corner on the room’s floor is dedicated to your siblings and yourself. and you wonder how long Luke will keep it reserved for them—for you. You wonder, will the treatment end the moment this . . . affair between you two ends? How will you explain this to your siblings then? When you finally need to deal with the jealousy that comes with being somewhat special to a counsellor.
So you learn to adapt, to take advantage of those who undermine you, and to make allies with those who understand your strength. It’s not hard getting your siblings to listen to you, after all, you are the eldest with two quests weighing down on your conscious daily, but having that achievement means little to nothing when your godly parent isn’t an Olympian.
You sit down in the corner of the room, knees tucked in your chest and you look around. You have three siblings on your godly side, a diary hidden under Luke’s (because no one would respect your privacy, yet they wouldn’t dare breathe in Luke’s way like that) pillow containing their names, mortal addresses, mortal family’s numbers and blood types noted down. You wonder if Camp Half Blood would have a proper funeral if any of you—not just your siblings, any of the children of the minor gods—died. Would there be a grieving period? Would someone look for you? Would they even call the families you’ve left in the mortal world or would those who care wonder what happened to you all?
No minor god is as important as Olympians and as much as no one says it, you can feel it—you all can feel it.
A child of Nike can win better than a child of Ares, no one gives them the credit of winning, though, it’s always beginner's luck. Camp survives on the magic and mist of Hecate and yet no one, *not one person* appreciates any of her children. Iris is responsible for most, if not all, of the communication at camp and yet no one includes her children in any conversation. Tyche and Hebe’s children are almost as joyful as the Apollo and Aphrodite campers, yet no one smiles or dances with them. The goddess of luck’s children have none here. Nemesis cradles her children, promising justice and vengeance, and Hypnos lulls his kids to sleep, ensuring no nightmares whilst they sleep, unable to do anything to the bullying when they’re up.
Your parent is amongst these minor gods, and whilst they do care slightly more than Olympians do for their kids, you cannot help but be angry. Anger that you know will be spent on the Hermes counsellor, pushing him till he pushes you back, till you’re both breathing heavily into each other’s mouths and till your nails scratch red lines down his back, after all, it’s what you two do to each other.
No conversation, no understanding, no labels. You two are just two teenagers angry at the world for taking their parents away. Nothing else to each other, right?
#( ✸ ) half divinity#( ✸ ) pari's works#( ✸ ) not a request#luke castellan x reader#luke castellan#percy jackon and the olympians#percy jackson and the olympians x reader#pjo x reader
89 notes
·
View notes
Last Seen Blogs
pr1ncely
i’m the son of poseidon!
katarinaluvs-blog
-------
runawaywithmargo
I'm just an addict with a pen
katarinaluvs-blog
-------