#what do i. tag this. Is there a tag for whatever the fuck they’ve got going on
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jack harkness rose tyler & the doctor are like the world’s most fucked up polycule and yet I wish every day we got more of them together. throw mickey in there for the hell of it its so funny. jack is like “we’re all bffs but also you two are in love with each other but also I’m desperately in love with both of you” and rose is like “i flirt for fun & as an expression of affection. because i’m young and recovering from an abusive relationship i have trouble quantifying my existing romantic feelings. i’d make out with either or both of you at the drop of a hat. it’s so great that we’re all friends :)” and the doctor is like “i am in love with rose tyler i want to spend the rest of my lives with her she is everything. however i am a monster and i destroy everything i touch so instead i will be fucking jack harkness on the tardis floor”. and meanwhile mickey just wants them to meet up with him on time for once
#doctor who#jack harkness#rose tyler#the doctor#mickey smith#what do i. tag this. Is there a tag for whatever the fuck they’ve got going on
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it's you ( j.wy & c.s )
pairing › jung wooyoung x afab reader x choi san.
about › 3.6k, nsfw (minors dni), fluff
warnings › smoking weed, nicknames, threesome, double penetration, riding, unprotected sex (wrap it before u tap it guys), p in v, creampies, degradation, praise, fingering, high sex, idol au, mxm content, nipple play, woosan deserve their own warning, lmk if i missed anything
synopsis › getting high with your weed besties is something of a tradition for you. being fucked by them, however, is definitely not.
note › when you haven't written since february and all of a sudden you watch chellateez and go into absolute brainrot 😂🙏 i swear i wrote this in 8 hours i don't know what the hell is wrong with me but whatever. also happy 4/20 so fitting for this fic am i right 😝 this is dedicated to my sexy hot smoking wife @yunhoszn
tagging › @atzhouse @skteezcursed also @hoshiseon for encouraging me to keep going ily
“You’re late.”
You scoff, shutting the door behind you. The room is dim, save for the lamp in the corner, but you don’t need light to register the already thick atmosphere of the hotel room and the two silhouettes in the corner.
“Clearly, it doesn’t matter since you guys have already started,” you say, flicking the light switch on.
San comes into focus first, holding a rolled-up joint in between his fingers as he exhales smoke. The sight makes you dizzy, partially because of the cloudy air but also because of the opened blazer adorning his frame, exposing more than covering it. One look at Wooyoung proves the same, his loosened tie and black jacket strewn across the chair much more haphazardly than merely an hour ago on the Coachella stage.
“You guys didn’t even change?” you gasp, almost accusingly.
“Can you blame us?” Wooyoung responds, his silky voice floating through your ears, “That performance was insane. We needed something to calm us down.”
Wooyoung hands you a joint rolled up perfectly with his nimble fingers, and San beckons you over with two fingers. You shuffle over, watching him pull out his Hello Kitty lighter from the drawer beside him.
“We were too antsy to think about changing,” San confesses. You lean down, close to his chest as he flicks the wheel of the lighter. The orange flame dances across his chest, shimmering with the body oil he applied before the performance, and it’s hard to pay attention to your own joint when he lights it.
The smoke bursts, taking you by surprise, and you cough as San pulls the joint out of your mouth.
“You okay?” he asks, delicately cradling your chin. Your lungs burn as if they’ve been lit on fire, but all you can focus on is San’s warm gaze grounding you.
“Yeah, sorry, it’s been a while.”
“Do you not smoke without us?” Wooyoung asks from the corner. You turn, shifting your gaze to him and noticing the newly popped open buttons of his shirt.
“Of course not. You’re my weed besties, it’s like I’d be cheating on you if I got high without you.”
Wooyoung rolls his eyes, trudging over to take a seat next to you. He pats at the empty space next to him, right between you and San, and you oblige, letting the bed frame hit your back as you scooch down.
“Do you guys get high without me?” you ask, timidly, wondering if only you share this sort of possessive sentiment.
“Of course not,” San replies. He’s playing with your hair now, curling it between his fingers as if you were always meant to be in this position, by his side. “You’re our weed buddy for life.”
And it’s true. You got high with San and Wooyoung your first time years ago, and you knew you wouldn’t have it any differently as you watched them wipe away your tears from the burning ache in your chest and tell you that you were doing so well for them, that you were taking it like a champ and that you were safe with them. Pulling out the weed is almost a tradition now, often finding yourself in the backseat of the van exhaling smoke after a particularly exhausting performance or in your bedroom at night after a long day of work. It helps you take the edge off things, they help you take the edge off things, and it’s a mutual response that all three of you are together when you take your first and last hits.
“Yeah, we’re like friends with benefits. Except the benefit is the weed, not sex,” you clarify. You attempt to grab your joint from San, wanting to experience the so-called benefit you just mentioned, but San holds it high above him in an attempt to tease you and you can only pout in response.
“Ask me nicely, and maybe I’ll give it to you,” he says, holding it farther away from you as you reach for it with grabby hands. You can hear Wooyoung laughing from the side, but all you’re focused on is the prize in his hands as you lean over his lap, your right hand finding purchase on his exposed shoulder as you finally grab ahold of his hand, plucking the joint right out of his fingers.
“Got it!” you exclaim, but it takes a few moments for you to register Wooyoung’s silence before you look down, wondering why the room is engulfed in sudden quietness. You suppose you find the answer in San’s expression, staring up at you, and just about now you realize how imperceptibly close he is, how you’re now straddling his lap and somehow your hand has slid down to his chest, grabbing onto the hardness of his chest muscle.
You think you might die.
You feel San’s heart beating wildly against your fingers, and it takes thirty seconds before you realize that this is wrong, so, irrevocably wrong, and you make a move to shift off his lap.
“I’m so sorry,” you start, removing your hand from his abdomen and bringing your leg up, “I wasn’t paying attention and I—”
San grips onto your thigh, holding you in place. You still, wondering if his touch is merely a dream or something very, very real with even more real implications.
“Do you know how long I’ve imagined you like this?” he starts, his chest constraining as if he’s pained, as if the mere sight of you in his lap is like poison flooding his veins.
“What?” you ask. Your whole world shifts on its axis and suddenly, you’re hyperaware of the way his pants strain against his dick, the hardness against your thigh, and his heavy breathing in front of you.
“Five years,” Wooyoung answers. Your gaze shifts to where he sits, and he leans closer as if this is some dirty secret that’s only meant for your ears. “He’s imagined you in this position for five years, ever since the day we first got high together because you wanted to be good for him. For me. For us.”
And you feel like glass, see-through despite every intention to hide your feelings because it’s true. It’s imperceptibly true that you wanted to get high with them to gain some sort of intimacy with them, a tradition with only you three and feelings that no one else would understand. It’s true that your heart flutters whenever someone mentions it’s your thing with them, because even the mere thought of being associated with them is enough to drive you insane.
The joint in your hands can get you high, but nothing else makes you float like their presence next to you, imagining the way it’d feel if you just leaned a little closer and made yourself theirs.
“I don’t understand,” you say, even though you all know damn well that you do. “What are you trying to say?”
Wooyoung doesn’t answer. Instead, he grabs your face and smashes his lips against yours, swallowing your gasp and bringing you close.
You moan against his lips as you press back, too dizzy to even comprehend. You don’t know if your lightheadedness is from the hit you just took or Wooyoung’s lips, but either way, your brain is spinning and all you can think of is being consumed by him. He sucks your bottom lip in between his teeth, biting softly as you whine. Wooyoung kisses you like he’s starved, as if he wants to eat you whole and devour you as if you’re his for the taking, and judging by the way you respond so eagerly, you might as well let him.
“Enough,” San complains, and Wooyoung pulls back from you as you attempt to register what the hell just happened. You can’t even sit still for a moment before San pulls your thighs so you’re placed right on top of his clothed dick. All you can do is fall forward, meeting his lips halfway with yours.
If Wooyoung kisses you like he’s taking everything from you, then San breathes life back into you. He presses slowly, and gently, testing the waters until you whimper against his lips for more. It’s heartwarming how he handles you delicately, as if he’s your first everything, and it’s not long before you squirm on his lap and he has to pull back from you, throwing his head back and groaning.
“Stop,” he breathes ruggedly, making a noise of protest as you grind down harder. “I don’t want to make you come for the first time against my pants. I need to be inside you.”
Still, you can’t seem to stop until Wooyoung puts his hands on your waist. You whimper, almost in tears from being stopped so suddenly.
“Look at you, grinding yourself against him like a whore. Thought you were being good for us, but all you care about is about getting to cum, is it?”
“No!” you gasp, shaking your head, but you know you’re past the point of no return when Wooyoung spins you around, on San’s lap. San wraps his hand around your waist and pulls you close against him, again, and you feel the hardness of his abs against your thin shirt. Wooyoung moves from his position to kneel between San’s legs, and your legs, grinning wickedly as he lifts your short skirt so that you’re truly spread open for him.
“Look how wet you are,” he coos, and the sweet tone in which he says those filthy words makes you want to die, “how long have you been wanting us like this? Five years, maybe even longer?”
You nod, and San sighs against your ear.
“Could’ve been sitting pretty on my dick for ages now. It’s okay, though. We can make up for lost time.”
San trails kisses down the side of your neck, licking, biting softly, until you’re squirming away from him and he has to hold you in place with his right hand. The rings on his fingers shine against the lamplight, and you feel yourself getting wetter with the way he grips you so easily, kissing you so carefully but having the potential to ruin you wholeheartedly.
You’re brought back to reality when you feel a featherlike touch prod at your panties. They’re pink, cute, and definitely not the right ones to wear if you want to get fucked, but Wooyoung seems to pay no mind as he slides them off you in one go, tucking them into the back pocket of his pants. Your top follows next, and Wooyoung groans when he finds no bra underneath, making haste to lean in close, taking an exposed nipple into his mouth.
“No bra? You just wanted to strip for us, huh? So, so easy for us to fuck you.”
You can’t even say no because deep down, you know he’s right.
“You wear these short skirts,” he says, trailing his fingers up your thighs, “and tight shirts with no bra, and cute, cute little panties that drive us insane. Do you know how many times we’ve gotten off to the thought of you, so sweet and perfect like this?”
San bites your earlobe as Wooyoung says this, and you cry out, digging your nails into his thighs.
“You’ve gotten off to me?” you pant, breath heady with desire.
“More times than you can imagine, pretty.”
With that, his fingers finally find your folds, slipping inside them with ease. He finds your clit in seconds as if he was always meant to be there, and it’s not long before he traces figure eights on the nub, holding your thigh open with his free hand so tightly he’s sure to leave marks.
As if you weren’t crazy enough already, San ceases his ministrations on your neck to take ahold of your nipple in his hand, tweaking and pinching until it’s irritated before moving over to the other one, alternating until you can’t keep yourself silent anymore.
“Please, please stop before I— Oh, god!” you cry as Wooyoung slips his fingers inside you, curling them so tightly that it has you seeing stars. His thumb finds purchase on your clit again, never stopping his incessant rubbing, and you think you might pass out from the coil in your stomach building up, the pressure so tight that it really might take you out.
“Be good and let go for us,” San breathes into your ear, swirling his finger around your nipple, and that’s all it takes for you to spill over the edge, throwing your head back against San’s shoulder and clamping down on Wooyoung’s fingers.
Wooyoung works you through it until you’re begging him to stop, and the sight of your cum stringing on his fingers makes your cheeks burn with embarrassment. It drives you even more insane though when Wooyoung brings his fingers to San’s lips and they both murmur sounds of desire, and you watch entranced as San swirls his fingers around Wooyoung before he pulls them out with a pop.
Before you can even say anything, though, Wooyoung kisses San, slipping his tongue inside the other’s mouth and licking at his lips. You feel yourself getting wetter at the sight, entranced with the way their lips slot together so perfectly at the taste of you.
“So good,” San gasps out as Wooyoung pulls back, pressing another kiss against his lips before shifting his attention to you. San presses his lips against yours, making sure you taste yourself against him.
“You taste so sweet,” he starts, running his fingers through his hair, “So, so sweet. Let me fuck you, pretty. Please?”
Your chest pangs, suddenly aware of how badly you need something inside of you, and before you can even say yes, Wooyoung is pulling your skirt higher, up to your waist. It barely covers your ass now, and as San busies himself with freeing his dick, Wooyoung makes sure to show you just how much he appreciates you, groping at the skin of your ass until you beg for him to stop.
“You’re so hard,” Wooyoung comments when San finally pulls his dick out, and your mouth waters at the sight. He is hard, long, and curved, and the prominent vein on the underside makes you want to trace your tongue on it until he’s writhing beneath you.
“Can you blame me? They look like an angel sitting on my lap.”
You’re obsessed with the way they talk about you as if you aren’t physically present, just a plaything for their use. Your fingers trace San’s dick, thumbing over the vein, and he squirms, growing harder at the touch.
“I need you. Right now.”
Wooyoung helps position you so you’re hovering right over him, and when San stares at you for confirmation, your heart swells. You nod, knowing you could never, ever say no to him, and he lowers you down, spearheading you on his dick.
It’s not like you’re a virgin, but the way San rearranges your insides makes you feel like you’re losing your virginity all over again. He’s big, too big, and as you lower yourself on him, every inch feels like your body is adjusting to accommodate his length. Even if Wooyoung prepared you enough, San’s size is something you know will take a while to get used to.
After what feels like an eternity, you finally find yourself flush against him, ass pressed against his chest and legs situated around his. You exhale, finding that you held your breath in for so long in anticipation, and only when you feel the slight pain slip away do you signal San that you’re ready.
He helps you out by holding onto your shaking thighs, lifting you off halfway before you slam back down again. The action makes you both gasp, and as you stare at Wooyoung, wide-eyed, you know he’s just as turned on as the both of you.
You quickly build up a rhythm with San’s help, bouncing on him as you desperately try to reach your high again. The praise he whispers into your ear only spurs you on, rutting against him like this is your lifeline.
“You fight around me so tight,” he gasps, “Squeezing me in like you need me. It’s like you were made to be here. For us.”
Wooyoung groans from the other end, and as you meet his eyes again, the sight makes you water. He has his hand shoved inside his pants, palming himself needily as he focuses on the two of you, and you watch as his dick strains against his pants and his eyes roll to the back of his head.
“Wooyoung,” you pant, “let me help you.”
“What?” he sputters, coming to a stop as he registers your voice.
“I can fit two. There’s room for one more.”
You spread your legs open wider, and Wooyoung moans at the way your pussy swallows San whole.
“Are you sure?” San puffs against your ear, “You’re already so tight against me.”
“And I can be even tighter with the two of you.”
You clench around San to prove your point, and he bites down on your shoulder to muffle his noises.
“God, okay,” Wooyoung says, succumbing to his desires, “turn around.”
You lift yourself off of San, already whining at the lack of something inside you, but it’s not long before you perch yourself on all fours and San’s sliding into you again. This time, however, you feel a second dick prod at you, and you moan shamelessly into the room.
“You sure about this?” Wooyoung asks.
“Please. I need you,” you respond, sticking your ass out further, and that’s all it takes before Wooyoung slides into you.
Wooyoung is shorter than San, but thicker, and even though it hurts like hell at first, San working you open earlier helps you adjust easily to the feeling of two dicks inside of you.
“Have you guys ever done this before?” you ask, suddenly curious about whether this is a new experience for them too.
“Never. It’s always been you, baby. Only you,” San says, pulling out before slamming back in again.
The three of you moan, the feeling of San’s dick rocking right next to Wooyoung’s making you feel out of this world. Wooyoung goes next, a rougher stroke than San’s, and as they alternate and work you open, you don’t think you could ever go back to regular sex again.
“You look so pretty like this,” San starts, palming your ass.
“Being fucked like a hole for us to use,” Wooyoung continues, slapping your skin. The pain shocks you, and you squeeze around them tighter, something you didn’t even think was possible, but their vocal reactions to it spur you on even more. They thrust into you harder, alternating and then fucking into you all at once, to the point where you can’t even register their rhythm anymore and all you can focus on is the way they fill you up.
It doesn’t take long before the knot in your stomach tightens again, and based on their slightly less calculated thrusts, you know that they’re close too. Perceptive as always, San’s hands find your clit again, exactly what you need to let go.
“I’m gonna cum,” you whisper, your thighs shaking.
“Us too,” Wooyoung responds, wildly fucking into you to reach his high. “Let go for us, baby.”
With one more circle of San’s fingers, you spill over, milking their dicks in a neverending orgasm. They fuck you through it, and Wooyoung holds your waist so you don’t collapse on them.
“Close, pretty,” Wooyoung starts, “where do you want us?”
“Inside,” you plead, “right where you belong.”
San comes with a gasp, emptying into you, and his release triggers Wooyoung’s as he follows suit. They fuck into you until they can’t anymore, pulling out of you and watching their cum drip down your thighs.
San cleans you up with a towel, and Wooyoung leaves the room to return with a glass of water, something you’re thankful for because quite honestly, you’re spent after being used so maniacally like that.
You kiss each of them once you’re done, situated against the edge of the bed with the two of them next to you like always. Wooyoung lights a singular joint with the weed left, and you share the roll between the three of you.
“I love you,” you whisper after a few moments of silence, and you feel Wooyoung squeeze your thigh, “I always have. I don’t know what this means for us, but I know I need the two of you.”
“We feel the same way,” San says, kissing your cheek. “We can take it one step at a time. Just know it’s always been you, and it always will be.”
You watch as Wooyoung takes a hit of the joint, the smoke swirling until it disappears into thin air. He takes another puff, but this time, he pulls you close, kissing you as he exhales the smoke into your mouth. Your lungs burn from the heavy smoke, but Wooyoung’s lips are far too consuming to even focus on the pain as you kiss back.
“We can worry about all that later. In the future, because we have all the time in the world together. For now, though,” he starts, dragging you onto his lap once again in a sick, twisted, form of deja vu, “maybe we can worry about round two.”
And as Wooyoung kisses you again and San finds purchase against the small of your back, you realize that they’re absolutely right. You may not know what the future holds, but for now, you can just count on your weed besties boyfriends to help you take your mind off it.
#꣑୧ . . . juyofans#atzhouse#choi san x reader#choi san#jung wooyoung x reader#jung wooyoung#jung wooyoung smut#choi san smut#san#wooyoung#ateez x reader#ateez#ateez smut#ateez imagines#ateez scenarios#ateez fanfiction#woosan x reader#woosan
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11/10
a/n: i got this idea from an nsfw prompt generator so if anyone else has already done this, that could be why ✌️
tags: fwb! seungcheol, overstimulation, semi-dacryphilia, forced orgasms
w/c: 2.3k
in hindsight, telling the most competitive guy you know that you may or may not be faking your orgasms with him was probably not the best idea.
it was just 4 hours ago when jun had suggested a game of truth or drink. and it was just 3 hours 45 minutes ago when he had asked you ‘have you ever faked an orgasm?’
‘yeah?’ you’d answered like it was the most obvious thing in the world. and because whatever was in that alcohol was making you loose-lipped, you had continued.
‘in fact-’ a pause ‘-and i’m not proud of this, but i’m really good at it. the guy could never tell’
there was an immediate murmur of we can tell around the table but you interrupted.
‘trust me, you can’t. those guys still think they’ve given me the best sex of my life but they were horrible. i faked it so i could get done with it and go home’ you took a sip of your drink despite answering.
‘so, anyway, yes i’ve faked it. many times’ you had concluded, looking directly at seungcheol when you said that. you didn’t mean to look at him, he was just there in your line of sight.
he also had this funny expression on his face, somewhere between amused and offended.
were you trying to tell him something?
seungcheol and you were in a (secret) friends with benefits thing. you didn’t really call it that but that’s what it was. it had happened as a result of another game of truth or drink around 3 months ago, and thankfully, every orgasm with him in those 3 months had been very much legit.
so, when you’d seen him outside the bathroom later you’d clarified.
‘you know i wasn’t talking about you, right?’ you reassured.
‘of course you weren’t’ he answered like it was the most obvious thing in the world.
it had annoyed you. no man should be that confident.
‘oh? confident much?’
he’d leaned in, a little too close for being in public, and said ‘i may not know a lot of things...but i know how to make a woman cum’
and as his thumb softly grazed your lips, he’d stated ‘i know how to make you cum’
‘do you?’ you retorted, moving back ‘or have i been faking it and you just think you’re doing a good job?’
you don’t know why but you kind of wanted to piss him off. i mean sure, you were sleeping with him, but seungcheol was your friend before a fuck and it was always fun messing with him.
‘what are you trying to do?’ he’d asked, an eyebrow raised in mild annoyance.
is this a challenge?
‘i’m not trying to do anything’ big. fat. lies. ‘i’m just saying you’d never know’
sounds like a challenge to him.
(12:40 am)
‘please, no more!’ you move under his arms, writhing desperately.
‘answer the question’ he holds you in place, his grip tightening around you.
‘how many was that?’
‘f-fou-r’
‘did you fake that one?’ he asks softly.
‘no, i didn’t! i fucking swear!’
‘hmmn’ you feel a trail of gentle kisses travel up your neck ‘but you said i would never know, remember?’
seungcheol’s voice sounds sweet. so very sweet. but you know that tone—it's pure condescension masquerading as sweetness.
right now, you’re sitting on the floor, back pressed to seungcheol’s chest, locked in his heavy arms.
after jun’s, he’d offered to drive you home, which had recently become code for ‘let’s go fuck’. and before you could even kiss him at your apartment, he’d grabbed your vibrator.
he’d made you sit in front of the floor length mirror, nestled in between his legs, with a towel laid out underneath as he played with you. were you getting pampered today? maybe.
it sure felt like it after the first orgasm, and the second. but when he’d moved on to your third before you were even done with the last, you realised what this was. a lesson. a lesson for running your mouth.
‘another one then, just to be sure’ he hums, before pressing the vibrator back against your clothed cunt.
40 minutes in and seungcheol hadn’t even bothered to take your panties off. there was something quite erotic about seeing that damp patch on your underwear spread as he made you cum over and over. proof, he called it. and by now you were soaked, the silky fabric clinging to your puffy lips.
you squirm at his words, fingers digging into his skin at the overstimulation. he doesn’t even flinch.
‘look what you’re making me do to you’ he clicks his tongue like it’s a pity. like he doesn’t fucking love it.
‘you know i want to let you go, right? but we just have to be sure so there’s no confusion about this in the future’
subtext: if you ever fucking insinuate that i can’t make you cum, i’ll make you cum until you’re begging me to stop.
you try and wriggle again, but there’s no point—you’re completely at his mercy.
‘tsk, don’t move around so much. you should rest now. you’ll need the energy’ he cooes.
you can only whine helplessly at his words as you feel your brain and body consumed by a familiar high. and so you cum again, moaning his name as you do.
‘how many?’ he asks while you’re still coming down from it.
‘f-five’
‘did you fake that one?’
you tell him you didn’t. you promise.
‘are you sure about that?’
‘i’m sure! seungcheol please’
‘hmmn’ for a second there he actually contemplates letting you go but your cocky little words ring in his ear.
‘i’m not’ sadistic fuck. and once again you feel the relentless vibration as you jerk forward, your legs clamping shut. immediately, seungcheol drags you back, his lips gathered in a pout of displeasure as he drapes one heavy leg over yours to spread you open.
‘where are you going? hmmn?’ he presses the head against your throbbing clit, not letting up for even a second as he forces another orgasm out of you. your sixth.
drained. that’s how you feel after you cum, your body falling limp against his. ‘seungcheol, i’m done’ you whine feebly, hoping to garner a little sympathy.
‘no, no’ he shushes you ‘we’re not close to being done here. i haven’t even seen your pretty pussy yet. how can we be done?’
he leans forward, two fingers grabbing the fabric of your wet panties to pull them aside. ‘how pretty’ he smiles, gaze fixated on your slick cunt, and a split second later you hear the hum of the vibrator again. the second it touches your exposed cunt, a sharp gasp escapes your lips.
‘f-fuck’ you curse, feeling that knot in your stomach just a few minutes later.
‘coming already?’ he taunts as you end up giving him another.
‘that makes seven’ he counts it for you like he’s helping you out. you’re not sure how far he wants to push you today, but you do know you need to make it easier for you somehow.
‘please…can’t anymore…the vibrator’ you manage to string together in between quick gasps. the intensity of it against your swollen clit is too much. you need relief—something soft, something warm, something gentle—like seungcheol’s fingers.
after what seems like forever, the buzzing stops. ‘thank you’ you whimper and are met with a wry chuckle, his body shaking behind you.
‘you shouldn’t thank me yet’ he whispers. one of his big hands wraps around your throat giving it a light squeeze before sliding down your body to your cunt, leaving a trail of goosebumps in its wake.
‘so wet for someone who’s faking it’ he mutters to himself, thick fingers sliding in between your wet folds as he scoops up your arousal, pushing it back inside you. his finger slips in so easily that he adds a second. as he fucks you, fingers moving in and out, a vulgar squelching noise fills the room.
‘so fucking wet’ the softness of his voice now layered with something heavier. you can tell feeling you with his bare hands must’ve really turned him on. or at least that’s what his hard on pressing into your back is saying.
as you watch his fingers disappear inside you and come out all slick and shiny, your body somehow starts to crave another orgasm.
he knows it too. the way your walls begin to squeeze around him as he curls his fingers up, two stimulating your g-spot, while his thumb rubs your clit, all working up an incredibly hard orgasm.
‘go on…let me see you cum for me’ his voice is all you needed to hear, because a second later you come, for the eight time, gushing all over his fingers.
‘look at yourself’ he commands.
you do, looking lazily at your reflection through tired eyes.
‘look’ he grabs your face, forcing you to look.
‘what’s that dripping out of you?’
your eyes drop to the towel that has a very telling wet patch on it. getting overstimulated with the vibrator always made you a little messy but not like this; never like this.
‘answer me’
‘cum’ and so much of it. the way it’s stained the towel, the way it’s spread all over your inner thighs, and the way it’s still dripping out of you is such a pretty sight for seungcheol.
but you’re exhausted. it was so intense and there’s no way you can do it again.
‘seungcheol…i don’t have any left in me’ he can’t help but smile at your silly little statement.
‘no?’ he plays along, pulling you closer. his one hand grabs your breast, softly caressing it, before taking your nipple in between his fingers. his other, slides down to your swollen clit to rub in slow circles. and finally, his soft lips kiss down your neck, peppering little pecks along the way before stopping at that spot that only he knows exists. and as he stimulates all three so slowly and sensually, you feel your body start to betray you.
‘when did you turn into such a little liar, hmm?’ he asks, feeling your body start to tense up like it always did before release. he knows this feeling, he’s felt this over and over for the past three months—you can’t fool him. and as you bite back your moans, it takes over, and you cum again. number nine. seungcheol smiles to himself, and doesn’t stop.
he keeps going despite you just having given him one. it’s sore and sensitive but the way his lips have latched on to that spot on your neck it’s impossible not to surrender.
in a consistent rhythm he builds your high back up - neck. breasts. clit. you look at yourself in the reflection and god, it’s so erotic. the way he’s holding you—tight and completely under his control, his arms flexing as he masturbates you—makes you dizzy.
you want to curse and scream as you cum but you’re too overstimulated to formulate a single thought. only eager little moans spill out of your mouth.
‘go on, i know you want to’ he coaxes as you do, thrashing and tugging at the fabric of his pants.
‘i thought you had no more left in you?’ he teases as you come down from your tenth.
maybe it was a lie before but now you really don’t. isn’t 10 enough? he has to be satisfied with that. there’s a few seconds of silence when you think he might be. he lulls you into a false sense of security as your eyes fall shut, and then the sick sound of the vibrator fills the room again. no.
‘what do i need to do?’ your eyes sting with regret as you feel it touch your extremely sensitive clit.
you know what you need to do. you just don’t want to do it.
he pushes it harder, toying with you. fine.
‘i’m sorry, okay?’ a desperate apology finally spills out.
‘i take it back! you would know if you made me cum’ you whine. he says nothing, simply increasing the intensity.
‘i’m sorry’ your voice breaks as two perfect tears roll down your cheeks. until now, seungcheol had only ever pushed you to tears from the denial of pleasure, never from too much of it. he finds it incredibly arousing.
‘you’re so fucking cute when you’re desperate’ he says, looking at your pathetic reflection in the mirror. you look so pretty with those wet eyes and a dripping wet pussy that he suddenly feels forgiving.
‘cum for me again and i’ll let you go’ he kisses your neck. a wet little kiss.
‘i can’t’ you cry, tears flowing free now. ‘i can’t’
‘you can’ and you will for him.
‘you’re going to give me one more’ he says like you have no choice in the matter and presses the vibrator harder against you as you grab onto his arms.
‘shhh, don’t cry. be a good girl now and cum for me again. then i’ll believe you’ he cooes.
‘show me…show me how you can’t fake it with me’
as your start to spasm, your body shaking under him, you let out a moan, half of pleasure, half of exhaustion. you grip him harder, nails leaving red scratches all over his pale skin as the orgasm takes over.
he watches, fascinated at how you’re still giving him body shaking, toe curling orgasms after this many; at how your body moves at his command. he’s satisfied.
finally, you hear the buzzing stop as he puts the vibrator away. he wraps both arms around you, holding you in a tight embrace, his lips brushing against your ear.
‘how many was that?’
‘eleven’ you admit, not believing the number coming out of your mouth.
he smiles. god, it feels really fucking good to have been proved right 11 times. his eyes drop to the mess you’ve made—on the towel, on his hands, between your own legs and he feels extremely smug.
‘so, did you learn your lesson?’ he asks sweetly, placing a single kiss on your shoulder.
‘yes! i did. i promise!’
did you? well, if this is your punishment you may just have to piss him off again.
#scoups smut#seungcheol smut#seungcheol x reader#scoups x reader#seungcheol imagine#scoups imagine#scoups oneshot#seungcheol x you#seungcheol fanfic#seungcheol drabble#scoups drabble#seungcheol oneshot#scoups fanfic
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fighting for your love — yjh & hjs
summary: when you couldn’t pick who to date between joshua and jeonghan, you weren’t expecting to result in a fight, literally
tags: smut (minors dni!), romance, boxer!au
warnings: explicit unprotected sex, threesomes, floor sex, praise, fingering (f. receiving), oral (m. & f. receiving), spitroasting, throat fucking, dacryphilia, double vaginal penetration, light degradation, choking, squirting, multiple orgasms, creampies, overstimulation
wc: 5.5k
an: it took me a month to write so i hope you enjoy it, kai if you're reading this i hope you especially like it lol my little local jihan lover
“This is ridiculous,” you state as you watch the two boys slide their gloves on.
“It’s not ridiculous, it’s necessary,” Jeonghan says as he climbs into the ring.
“If you can’t pick, then we’ll pick for you,” Joshua tells you. “This is how plenty of animals find a mate and what are humans other than another species of animal.”
You let out a frustrated huff.
This isn’t the outcome you were expecting when you couldn’t pick between Joshua or Jeonghan after they both asked you out. You understand that this is their thing, that they’re boxers, but this is honestly unnecessary.
You’ve known both boys for a while now and are no stranger to their competitive nature but you didn’t think it would bleed over into their romantic lives as well. You should have known better. Your work for the gym they belong to and even though you’re around their coach and manager more, they’ve both seemed to take an interest in you anyway.
Despite being frequently annoyed by their antics, you actually do like both of them, that’s why you’ve been having a hard time picking between the two of them. Each has their own pros (and their own cons) and you truly don’t know who to pick, so here you are now, about to watch Joshua and Jeonghan box each other to become your boyfriend.
Everything really started a year and a half ago when Jeonghan signed on with Sebong, the gym you work for. You work basically as the assistant of the owner doing all of the work he doesn't want to do. You didn’t know he was joining the gym though, and was surprised to see such a handsome man standing in the lobby of your gym, which is not open to public access.
The first thing he did when he saw you was flirt with you. Soon the gym coach came in and took Jeonghan away, but that has been his lasting first impression ever since. After that, anytime Jeonghan would run into you in the gym, he’d take time out of his training just to flirt with you.
Joshua on the other hand, has been a long time member of the Sebong gym. He’s been around longer than even you have and he’s always been more or less respectful and kind to you, keeping his fair distance. That is, until Jeonghan appeared. The two seemed to be able to turn anything into a competition, and when Joshua realized that Jeonghan had his eyes set on you, he decided to do the same.
At first you thought it was a joke, but then it seemed to progress further and further to the point there was no way the boys were dropping all the money to bring you lunch and flowers whenever they could just for a laugh. So once you started to take them seriously, the competition really picked up. Taking you out on nice (expensive) dates, buying you gifts, showering you in flattery, requesting you route for them in their next match, whatever they could do to get your attention away from the other man and onto them. It was a bit over the top…but you also kind of loved it.
As you slowly got to know each man better, you slowly started to fall for both of them. There’s something so charming about the way you can never expect what Joshua will do next, yet he’ll always be a gentleman about it, and the way Jeonghan can be mischievous but still so caring at the same time. It’s so frustrating having to pick just one.
In terms of boxing, they’re also pretty equally matched. Joshua’s always been one of Sebong’s best boxers and one of the reasons why become so competitive with Jeonghan in the first place was due to the fact Jeonghan was able to sweep in and match his level.
Sometimes you’ll watch them during practice, going harder than anyone else in the gym, not wanting to quit until the other does. You know Coach loves it though, because they help push each other to be better.
The two are usually the last two out of the gym, forcing you to stay later so you can lock up after they get done. You don’t mind too much, you like watching them practice, and they always offer to help you clean up before leaving. After locking the doors they’ll always walk you to your car like proper gentlemen, and sometimes they’ll even invite you out to eat or something of the likes. You usually say yes.
You think one of your favorite moments with them was when you all went out to a bar together and got drinks and food and spent the whole night out talking. It felt natural, like the competition was set aside and you guys were just enjoying a night together as three friends.
The only problem is…the more time you spend with them, the harder it is to choose one. You’ve told them such on many occasions but the answer doesn’t seem to satisfy either man. That’s how Mingyu’s (not so) brilliant idea came to fruition.
“You’re both boxers, just fight for her.” It was said as more of a joke, but when you’re dealing with people like Jeonghan and Joshua, nothing is a joke if it can become competition. You were close to strangling Mingyu after he said it, but the other two were already gearing up to start the fight.
Which brings you to where you are now, after hours in the gym, staring at the two black haired men standing in the ring.
“Nothing will get out of hand, it’s just a friendly fight to determine who is worthy of your love,” Joshua assures you. You huff.
“What if neither of you win?”
Both men turn to you. “What does that mean?”
“It means you two are a little too evenly matched. I’ve seen you spar before and it always ends in a tie.”
“Not this time princess. Those are always practice matches, there’s something valuable on the line now,” Joshua says.
You know you should be annoyed that they're treating you like some prize to win, but if you’re being completely transparent, you find it a little hot. It’s not your fault that you have two hot boxers wanting to literally fight over you. It doesn’t mean you find them any less ridiculous.
“You can’t stop us Y/N-ah,” Jeonghan tells you. “Unless you pick right now.”
“You know I can’t do that. I-”
“Like both of us,” both men recite back to you in tandem. You roll your eyes.
“It’s not my fault you’re both annoyingly charming.” They send you twin grins at this.
“Just sit back and wait, pretty girl. We’ll have your answer for you soon enough,” Joshua says. “No hard feelings toward the other.” You doubt that last part, but you still just sigh and let them continue. It’s clear you’re not going to be able to stop them.
The two take their stance, shifting their weight from foot to foot, watching the other warily. Their elbows are tucked close to their bodies, their gloves up high to protect their face. Whichever one throws first will set the whole tone of the fight. Joshua makes the first move, but not really. It’s a fake out, but Jeonghan is able to see it coming, and doesn’t fall for it.
Instead he goes in for his own jab, connecting his glove into Joshua’s side. That gets Joshua going and he’s on Jeonghan, rapidly punching at his face. Jeonghan has no other choice than to back up, trying to block the hits. Jeonghan swings at Joshua to try and get him away and the two boys latch onto each other. They hit at each other a bit more before letting go and pulling back.
It doesn’t take long for them to go at it again though. This time it’s Jeonghan getting in his rapid fire hits. Joshua shields the punches away from his head, trying to make a few hits of his own as he does. Then in a miraculous turn around Joshua gets the upper hand, slamming his glove into the side of Jeonghan’s head.
It’s clear the hit resonated in Jeonghan, but he doesn’t let it slow him down. The two skirt around the boxing ring, dodging the other’s attacks while trying to make their own. If you weren’t so familiar with the world of boxing, you’d think they look a little ridiculous.
You do enjoy the sight a bit though.
Jeonghan’s hair is pulled back and exposes his long, pale neck. You can see a thin layer of sweat start to create a sheen there. His face is hardened and focused as he makes his attacks on Joshua. Speaking of Joshua, he looks just as good himself. His bangs hand in his face slightly, sticking to his forehead with sweat. His usual smiley face is replaced with one of determination and fire in his eyes. Both of their bodies are on display, their well defined muscles and hard abs out in the open for you to gaze at. You enjoy the sight of the way their bodies move; the clear image of their muscles working hard to win the fight.
You’re not sure how long you get distracted staring at the boys’ bodies but when you finally tune back into the actual fight, both boys are clearly starting to get worn out. Just as you predicted, they’re too evenly matched to knock each other out. They do look incredibly sexy though, worn out and sweaty. You discreetly clench your thighs together, a little too into the sight of the boys going at it for your affections.
You smirk at that though as an idea starts to formulate in your mind. Both boys are in their own corner of the ring, panting, when you approach the side.
“Are you boys done yet?” You drawl and their eyes flit over to you, like they almost forget you’re here, even though you’re the reason they’re even fighting in the first place.
“Not yet baby, still haven’t won yet. But don’t worry, I will soon,” Jeonghan says.
Joshua scoffs. “Yeah right. It’s gonna be me who wins, princess.”
The nicknames go straight to your core, further encouraging your idea. You lean against the ropes of the ring and stare at the two boys intently before speaking. “You know, I’ve always said I can’t pick between you two, but what if I don’t want to pick.”
“Y/N…?”
"Have you two ever considered…you can both have me?"
You watch the way Jeonghan’s throat bobs as he swallows and Joshua’s eyes go wide a bit before a smirk overtakes his face.
“Oh? Is that what you want pretty girl?” He asks, slinking towards where you’re standing, Jeonghan following suit.
You suddenly feel a bit shy under their looming gaze. “M-maybe.”
“Maybe?” Jeonghan asks, a playful tone to his words. “That won’t do, baby. You gotta tell us exactly what you want.”
You squirm a bit. “I- I want you guys. Both of you.”
“Want us to do what?” Joshua asks. You look at both boys who have matching smirks on their faces and you’re starting to realize maybe this isn’t your best idea. When the two men aren’t being competitors, they’re being the evil twins, and you think you may have awoken that side in them. That’s not going to stop you now though.
“Want you to touch me. To fuck me. Please Joshie, Hannie, I need it.”
“Good girl,” Joshua mutters before he’s throwing off his gloves and slipping through the ropes of the ring so he can pull you against his body. His skin is still warm from all of the physical exertion earlier and it feels nice against your own skin. It doesn’t feel nearly as nice as his lips pressing against yours though.
Joshua’s grip is firm, yet gentle at the same time. His kiss is searing against your lips and you let yourself get lost in it. One of his hands cups your neck while the other is snaked around your waist. He holds you in place, not that you’d go anywhere if he did let go. His lips are a mix of sweet from his strawberry flavored chapstick and salty from sweating during the boxing match.
You nearly forget about Jeonghan until you feel him slide up behind you, his own arms snaking around your body, trapping you in between both men. Jeonghan’s mouth attaches to your neck and a shudder runs through your body. The feeling of his teeth grazing your skin makes you gasp into Joshua’s mouth, allowing the younger to slip his tongue in.
Jeonghan’s fingers dig into your hip bones and you can feel his own hips grind up against you, his half hard dick nestled right against your ass. In the front you can feel Joshua’s own cock rub against your thigh. Both feelings combined have your head spinning and your panties dampening.
Jeonghan’s mouth continues to attack your neck before he’s tugging at your shirt collar, trying to reach as much skin as he can. If this was any other situation you may scold the man for stretching out your shirt, but you can’t be bothered right now, wanting his mouth on you as much as possible.
Your attention is pulled away from Jeonghan’s ministrations at the feeling of Joshua’s hands snaking up your shirt. His fingers brush against your bare skin, before fully cupping your tits. He paws at your boobs over your bra for a second before his fingers dip under your bra as well. They brush across your nipples and you moan around Joshua’s tongue still in your mouth.
For two men who use their fists for a living, they’re also very skilled with their fingers. Jeonghan’s hands travel down your body before they grasp at your thighs. His cock is still pushing up against your ass as he pulls your body back into him even more. He squeezes at your thighs and when one of his knuckles brush up against your clit through your pants you gasp and whine, grinding down to try and gain the friction again.
“Heh,” you hear in your ear, “so fucking needy. It’s so hot baby.”
“P-please touch me more,” you beg, pulling your mouth back from Joshua.
“Ah, you want me to touch you more? Where? Here?” His fingers brush against your crotch once more and you jerk.
“Yes! There, please! Please Hannie, I need it. Need you.”
“Of course baby, Hannie is gonna take good care of you.” His fingers plunge into your pants and he slides his fingers over your panties and against your clit. He starts to rub it in slow soft circles, causing your legs to go weak in the men’s arms.
“Princess,” Joshua mumbles into your ear. “You don’t know how long I’ve wanted this. Wanted you. So fucking pretty. I’ve liked you since you started here, you know.”
You whimper at his words. If there’s anything that will set you off, it’s having someone want you as desperately as Jeonghan and Joshua do.
Your panties are already soaked through with your arousal and you’re sure that Jeonghan’s fingers are also drenched. You squirm in the men’s grips, wanting more. Thankfully, they seem to get the hint.
“Fuck,” Joshua finally pulls away from you. “Clothes off. All of them.” Jeonghan also pulls away from you, allowing you to quickly shed all of your layers, leaving you bare to the two men staring at you like you’re their next meal. You kind of are.
Both boys also get rid of the rest of their clothing and your mouth goes dry a bit at the sight of the two naked men in front of you. They’re similar in build with fit bodies and taut muscles. They’re not too similar in their other appendages though.
Though both of their cocks are fully hard, and dripping precum, Joshua’s is fat and heavy and on the tanner sider while Jeonghan’s is long and skinny and a pretty pinkish color. The sight of both of them drives you crazy, though.
You’re still in the middle of assessing their bodies when they descend on you. Their bare skin feels even better against yours now that you’re also naked. You’re already a bit breathless as they sandwich you between them again.
“God, you’re even more gorgeous than I imagined, princess,” Joshua whispers in your ear. “And I’ve been imagining it for a while.”
A shiver runs down your back and you press your body into his even more. Something about his voice, the way he said the words, makes your head dizzy. You’ve never denied that Joshua Hong is one of the prettiest people you’ve ever met, but his voice is also incredibly sexy and deserves to be recognized. Especially when it gets all deep and teasing the way it just did.
“What do you want from us baby?” Jeonghan asks. Oh god his voice as well. The light tone turned sultry. You swear they’re both trying to kill you.
“Anything, everything,” you strangle out. “Please just touch me.”
“I think I can do that,” Joshua says with a smirk and then he’s sinking to his knees so his face is level with your crotch. “So pretty down here too.” He lifts his hand up so he can press two fingers against your clit. He plays with you there for a moment as you slump back against Jeonghan, relying on him to keep you standing.
Jeonghan chuckles at this and he snakes his arms around to your front so he can knead at your breasts. He tugs and flicks at your hardened nipples. Your mind is already reeling, your body buzzing in pleasure. You can barely think as Joshua grabs your leg and lifts it over his shoulder so he can dive straight into your dripping cunt. He licks a long strip against your slit before attaching his lips to your clit, sucking harshly on the bud. You cry out and bury your fingers straight into Joshua’s hair.
“You sound so pretty for us,” Jeonghan tells you. You turn your head so you can capture his lips with yours and he greedily accepts.
Jeonghan’s kiss is less harsher than Joshua’s, but just as eager. Whereas Joshua tastes like artificial strawberries, Jeonghan tastes sweet like sugary candies and cakes. Your free hand reaches up behind you so you can bury your fingers in Jeonghan’s silky soft hair as well.
You’re not sure which boy to focus on, as Joshua starts to prod at your entrance with his fingertips. He teases you there until he finally inserts a finger, slowly pumping it in and out of you. You wiggle in his grip a bit, wanting even more, but Jeonghan holds you still.
“Patience baby. You’ll get what you need soon enough. Let Joshua enjoy his meal for now.” Jeonghan’s hands still play with your tits as he talks to you. “You can be a good girl for us, can’t you?”
You nod. “Y-yes. Wanna be good for you two.”
Below you, Joshua’s now fed you a second finger. His mouth is still sucking at your clit, not letting up. When you look down at him, his eyes are closed in complete pleasure. His free hand has been squeezing your ass as he goes down on you and you can’t help but think about how pretty he looks like this.
You’re sure his cock is leaking all over the floor and the thought has you groaning. You can feel Jeonghan’s cock nestled in the small of your back and you reach around to grasp him. Jeonghan doesn’t seem to be expecting this and he lets out a hiss before thrusting into your fist.
His cock is slender and fits nicely in your grip. You rub your thumb over his slit, collecting his precum and using it to lubricate the rest of his cock so you can pump him in your fist. Jeonghan’s mouth latches onto your shoulder and you can feel him trembling behind you. Your hand is only half working at him, too distracted by the way you can feel your stomach tightening.
“J-josh!” You cry out before you’re clenching down around his fingers, your legs giving out on you. Your body twitches as you orgasm, your body sinking down to the ground. Joshua grabs you, holding you in his arms, gently rubbing at your skin while you grasp onto him, trying to ground yourself.
Joshua presses soft kisses to the corner of your eyes and your cheeks as you try and catch your breath. “Are you okay pretty girl?”
You nod. “I’m okay, just took me by surprise.”
“Can we keep going?” Joshua asks you softly and it sets off a warm feeling in your stomach. You’re not sure how someone who made you cum a minute ago can be so soft with you now, but you’re not complaining. You just cup his face and kiss him quickly.
“Yeah. Here, I wanna suck you off. Can I?” You look up at him with wide eyes and his face goes pink for a second.
“Y-yeah. Yeah, you can.”
“Ehem,” Jeonghan says, reminding you and Joshua he’s still there.
“Ah, Hannie,” you turn to the older man, “you can uh, you can fuck me. If you want.”
Jeonghan curses softly. “You sure baby?”
You nod. “I’m sure. Josh loosened me all up. I need your cock in me so badly, please. I just came and I’m still so needy.”
Your words cause Jeonghan to groan and he gets down on the floor to meet you and Joshua. He pulls you in for a kiss, his fingers sliding down against your wet folds. You’re still sensitive down there and you mewl a bit.
“Fuck, you’re gonna let me fuck you nice and hard baby?”
“Yes, yes please,” you nod frantically.
“Help Joshua out first baby, then I’ll fuck you.”
You turn to the younger of the two men. Joshua is sitting back, his cock resting against his toned stomach. You position yourself between his legs on your knees in front of him. You lean down and gently take his tip in your mouth, sucking at the head. Joshua gasps slightly, encouraging you to do more.
You pop your mouth off of him and lick and kiss down his length to his balls. They sit heavy and drooping and you lick and kiss at them as well. You can hear the small grunts Joshua is letting out and you move up to kiss at his tip again.
His cock is thick and you’re not completely sure you’ll be able to get it all in your mouth, but you wrap your lips around the head again. You’re going to try your best no matter what. You run your tongue around the rim of his tip before flattening your tongue and trying to push yourself down further.
Your tongue presses against the underside of his cock as you try and get all of him in your throat. Your lips are stretched tight and you can feel the strain in your jaw. You pull your mouth back before plunging it back down, trying to get down further as you bob your head up and down his length. You can hear the lewd noises of your mouth fill the room as they mix with Joshua’s moans.
You’re so focused on pleasuring Joshua you jump when you feel Jeonghan grasps your hips. Your ass is pushed into the air and you can feel him drag his cock over your slit. He teases you with a few more swipes before he unceremoniously shoves his cock into you. His slender width allows him to push into you easily, especially with how wet you are from Joshua eating you out. You moan as Jeonghan bottoms out, the vibrations going straight into Joshua’s cock.
Joshua reaches out and grabs your head, shoving you down further on his cock, his blunt tip ramming into the back of your throat. Behind you Jeonghan does the same, his own tip hitting your cervix, the slam of skin echoing throughout the room. Joshua has a tight grip on your hair and he guides you up and down his cock, practically face fucking you.
You can’t do much but moan and allow both men to fuck into you like you’re nothing but their desperate cock sleeve. You don’t mind it at all though. You actually kind of love them using you like this. It’s dirty, the way they just shove their cocks into you with no care, but it has your pussy drenched, no matter how embarrassing it is.
Your throat is burning from the way Joshua is using your mouth and your fingers dig into his thighs. Tears are welling up in your eyes a bit and you can’t tell if it’s from choking on Joshua’s cock or the pleasure Jeonghan is giving you by continuously drilling into you.
“F-fuck, Y/N,” comes Joshua’s choked out sob before he’s spilling his seed right down your throat. You gag as you try and swallow it all down but some of it still drips out of your mouth. “Shit Y/N. You look so hot like that. Dirty little girl, taking my cum down her throat.” Joshua reaches up and swipes the rest of his cum off your chin.
Your throat burns and your voice is raw when you try to speak. “J-josh.”
“You were so good for me.” Joshua reaches up and cups your breasts in your hands, kneading at you softly. “You feel good princess?”
“H-hannie, feels so good. W-want more though.”
“More?”
You nod. “Please Shua, fuck me too. Need to be full.”
“Fuck baby,” Jeonghan mutters from behind you. “You want us both in your needy little hole?” He thrusts up into you roughly to help make his point.
“Yes. Need both of you so badly. Please Josh.”
“Shit princess, that’s so slutty, how could I say no,” Joshua smirks at you. “Lean her back Han.”
Jeonghan does as told, leaning back and taking you with him so your cunt is now more exposed to Joshua. Jeonghan’s cock is already buried in you, but due to its slender size it still leaves room for Joshua to slide in. Well slide in isn't exactly the right words.
You feel Joshua push his tip up against Jeonghan’s cock at the folds of your pussy. He ruts at your entrance for a second before starting to push in. His cock is thick though, and it stretches your pussy wide, your opening burning as it does. If it wasn’t for all of the arousal lubricating Jeonghan’s cock and your cunt, you’re sure Joshua wouldn’t have even been able to get in an inch.
“God you look so pretty like this,” Jeonghan coos. “Our nasty little slut.”
You choke out a moan at the name and Jeonghan chuckles. In your front, Joshua is still slowly pushing his cock into you bit by bit. After what feels like forever he’s shoved inside of you and you feel like crying from how desperate you are.
“Please move, I need it, please,” you beg, not caring how pathetic you sound.
“What the princess wants is what she gets,” is Joshua’s response before he pulls out only to slam right back into you. You cry out, your fingers finding purchase on Joshua’s shoulders. “God you feel so tight around my cock.”
Joshua reaches down and grabs your legs, picking you up. Your legs automatically wrap around Joshua’s waist, pulling him closer to you. His cock moves rapidly in you as he matches Jeonghan’s pace. The older of the two’s cock slams deep into you while the younger’s fills you up, satiating your fervent desires.
Your mind is reeling and you can’t focus on anything other than the sheer pleasure coursing through your body. You can feel Jeonghan and Joshua’s mouths and hands all over your body, feeding your hunger for them.
At some poit you realize that your cheeks are wet, tears freely streaming down your face as both men do their best to abuse your cunt.
You let out a strangled gasp when you feel one of Jeonghan’s hands snake around your neck, his other one grasping harshly at your breasts. His fingers close down around your neck, his hot breath brushing your ear.
“Gonna let me and Josh cum inside you baby? Let us fill up your needy pussy with our seed?”
You whine, high pitched and needy. “Yes. Yes, please. Cum in me, use me however you want.”
“Hear that Shua? Our baby girl wants us to use her like the cumdump she is.” Jeonghan’s fingers are still tight around your neck, making you light headed in the best way possible.
Instead of responding Joshua just roughly grabs your chin and pulls you into a kiss. His tongue slips into your mouth once more and nearly shoves it down your throat. You can barely breathe with Joshua’s mouth over yours and Jeonghan’s hand on your throat but you don’t care. It makes your head fuzzy and all of your senses go crazy to the point that there’s nothing other than Joshua Hong and Yoon Jeonghan.
A shudder runs through your whole body and without much warning your body is trembling as you hit your orgasm. Your pussy clenches down on Jeonghan and Joshua’s cocks, holding them in a vice grip. They both let out twin groans as your body goes limp in their grip, your mind completely blank.
You’re not sure who cums first, but before you know it they’re both spilling their seed into you, filling you up to the brim. You’re still shaking when they pull out, some of their cum spilling out and dripping down your legs. Slowly Joshua lowers you to the floor.
“You’re so pretty like this, Y/N-ah,” Jeonghan says in a soft voice. “All fucked out like a cock drunk whore.”
Your body is exhausted and you want nothing more than to rest, but then you feel Jeonghan’s fingers trailing against your puffy folds. You mewl out when you feel his fingers insert into you, shoving his and Joshua’s cum back into you.
“Can’t let it go to waste, can we?” He says with a smirk.
Your whole body is overstimulated and just having his fingers in you sends your twitching. Your fingers grasp at air and you whine.
“Shh, be a good girl for us. Can’t you do that pretty girl?” Joshua asks as he runs his hands up and down your warm skin. He stops at your tits, kneading them softly before flicking your sensitive nipples.
“J-josh, H-hannie!” You cry out. Jeonghan’s fingers are now moving rapidly inside of you, your walls fluttering as your body screams at you.
Your eyes screw shut and your back arches as you reach your release once more. You can feel the liquid spray out of you, drenching your legs and Jeonghan’s hand. It seems to go on forever before your body is falling limp to the ground once more.
“Oh god princess, that was so hot,” Joshua says, a bit breathless. Jeonghan pulls his fingers from you satisfied with his work.
Your body is completely boneless as you lay on the ground, trying to catch your breath. Your eyes are closed and you think you may never get up ever again.
You’re not sure how long you lay there as Joshua and Jeonghan move around, cleaning up the mess you made and rubbing at your sore body. When you finally get some semblance of feeling human again you open your eyes and sit up.
“Hey baby,” Jeonghan says to you in a soft voice. “How are you feeling?”
“Good,” you sigh, “very good.”
“Sorry we kind of went in hard there at the end,” Joshua says. He caresses your face with his hand.
“I asked for it. I liked it,” you admit. “Thank you, you two.”
“You’re thanking us?” Joshua laughs a big incredulously. “That was like a dream for me.”
Now with the ability to think again you glance around and realize you’re still on the floor, of the gym, covered in cum and sweat.
“Ugh, I feel so gross. This is so gross, these floors are filthy,” you groan.
Jeonghan snorts. “Come on, we can go clean up in the locker room.”
“Round two in the showers?” Joshua shoots you and Jeonghan a mischievous look that Jeonghan sends back. You groan again.
“You two may have the stamina, but I certainly do not,” you state, knowing damn well that you’re going to let them fuck you again in the shower.
The boys are quiet for a moment as you three walk to the shower before Joshua finally pipes up. “So does this mean you choose us both?”
“Yeah,” you smile at them, “I choose you both…if you both still want me.”
“Of course! I’m not going to let him stop me from having you,” Jeonghan says.
“Even if you have to share?” You ask.
“Yeah, I’ll just be the better boyfriend,” Jeonghan proclaims proudly.
“Hey! I’m going to be the best boyfriend Y/Nnie can have!” Joshua shoves the other boxer’s shoulder. This sets off an argument between your two new boyfriends and you roll your eyes before turning on the shower.
The least you can say is that your relationship definitely won’t be a boring one.
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#yoon jeonghan#joshua hong#jeonghan smut#joshua smut#jeonghan#joshua#jeonghan fanfic#joshua fanfic#jeonghan x reader#joshua x reader#seventeen#seventeen smut#seventeen fanfic#kpop#kpop smut#kpop fanfic#rru.writes#rru.fics#★ multi-pairing#★ mdni
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Okay, fuck it Friday! Thanks for the tags @forthewolves @lover-of-mine @devirnis @rewritetheending @daffi-990! Here is a silly little fic I’m adding to the soft prompts collection!
Eddie pats down his jacket, making sure his wallet hasn’t magically teleported out of it in the hour or two since he took it off.
“The mint kind, dad, remember.”
“I got it.”
There’s the sound of glass clattering in the kitchen, ringing as loud as the laughter that accompanies it. In the living room there’s sudden cheering as one of the kids gets ahead of another in whatever video game they’ve set up. Beside him, Chimney is counting on his fingers.
“It’s-Its, mint kind. Drumsticks. Rocket pops. Bobby wants neapolitan. Those caramel chocolate bar things for Hen and Karen.”
“Are you going to have room in your freezer for all this?” Eddie wonders, thinking about how packed his own freezer is. He should really clean it out. Maybe Buck’ll come over next day off and help. He loves leftovers, and organizing.
“I’m fully expecting everyone to eat themselves sick so it won’t be a problem,” Chim shrugs. “Rocky road for you, yeah?”
“Mhmm.”
“Okay.” Chimney squints. “I can’t remember what Buck said.” He squints more specifically in Eddie’s direction, clearly waiting for a response.
And Eddie could say Well, Buck cycles through ice cream favorites every few weeks because he likes to try new things. It’s been white chocolate raspberry recently, but he might be ready to switch it up, it’s been long enough, and the kind he likes is sort of expensive so he would never ask you to get it for him, but that feels like the kind of statement that would get him that sort of raised eyebrow flat mouth look he doesn’t understand so he goes with “Uh, I’ll ask.”
Buck is leaning on the counter sandwiched between Hen and Bobby, half full drink in his hand entirely forgotten and listing a little dangerously to the left as he listens to Karen talk about a new project at work. He’s smiling like he doesn’t know he’s doing it, and his eyes are wide in the way they get when he’s absorbed in a story, and Eddie doesn’t want to interrupt but his son has no such qualms.
“Buck, are you gonna come take your turn on mario kart? Nobody can beat May.”
Buck’s smile turns into his Christopher smile, wide and eyes crinkly. “I’ll be there in a minute, bud. Save rainbow road for me.”
“Buck, what ice cream did you want?”
Buck’s attention flicks over to him. “Oh, I’ll just take one of the drumsticks or something.” A beat or two passes while Eddie makes an unimpressed face and Buck laughs, ducking his head. “Fine, I’ll- uh, if they have something coffee flavored that looks good I’ll take that.”
“Alright-“
“Oh, Eddie, while you’re there will you pick up more Doritos?” Maddie asks, waving cheesy fingers over an empty bowl.
“Sure.”
“Ooh, and barbecue chips?” Hen asks, head tilted to the side imploringly.
“Yeah, okay-“
“If you get an avocado or two I think there’s everything to make guacamole,” Bobby says thoughtfully.
“Uh-“
Buck grins at him. “I’ll text you a list.”
“Thank you,” Eddie grins back, and then turns to Chris. “Alright mijo, we’ll be back in a bit.”
“Okay,” Chris says. “And can you get butter popcorn?”
“They’ve got the kernel kind, and a popper and everything.”
“I like the microwave kind,” Chris says, pouting a little. “It’s a party, dad.”
Eddie snorts, but also immediately gives in. “Fine. See you in a minute with your nasty popcorn, sir.”
He leans down to kiss Chris' forehead, leans up to kiss Buck, pats his pocket one more time (wallet still there) and then heads down the hallway. Chimney is standing there frozen, so Eddie steps around him towards the door. He’s probably trying to think of his own chip preference, like he’s not as big of a Doritos fan as Maddie is. Eddie wonders if the corner store they’re going to will have the salt and vinegar chips Buck likes-
Buck-
Eddie feels a strange sensation like all his muscles locking up for a moment, before he slowly turns around.
“What did I… just… do?”
Chimney — who, there it is, he’s making the face, eyebrows raised and mouth flat, though it looks slightly more hysterical than usual — shakes his head and throws up his hands in a shrug. Helpful. Eddie stumbles the few steps back towards the kitchen. Buck is talking to Karen now, though everyone else in the room is also making the face with varying levels of giddy intensity. When Bobby sees Eddie come back in the room he has to hide his expression behind his glass of orange juice.
“-never knew that worms played such an important part in-“ Buck’s voice suddenly squeaks to a halt mid sentence, and he whips around to stare open mouthed at Eddie in the doorway. “Did- did you?”
“Uh huh,” Eddie nods, eyebrows furrowed. “Is that- uh. Is that okay?”
“Y- yeah, Eddie- yeah.”
Buck moves towards him and Eddie is pulled in his direction like a magnet. They meet in the middle of the kitchen and grab each other’s hands. Eddie is vaguely aware of Maddie’s muffled giggling somewhere to his right, but it doesn’t seem to matter very much at the moment.
“Should-" Buck looks and sounds absolutely confused, and is clinging tight to his hands. "Should we get married?”
“What?” Eddie laughs, remembering the time he’d held Julia Stanton’s hand in kindergarten and she’d told him that meant they were husband and wife. “I- we only just-“ but, suddenly, he imagines it. Being married to Buck. Waking up to him every day, and doing taxes together. It’s all he wants, it’s what he wants more than anything. “Okay,” he says, nodding his head in a frantic yes. “Yeah. Alright.”
“Oh, lord,” Bobby laughs in the background, setting his glass on the counter so he can rest his hands on his knees. Hen rubs his back, other hand covering her face as she tries not to lose it.
“Yeah?” Buck asks, looking stunned, a smile slowly spreading across his face.
“Yes, I’d- I want- you’re beautiful.” Eddie lets go of one of Buck’s hands — oh, he thinks he’d like to hold his hand forever, why did they never do this before — and puts his palm on Buck’s cheek, tracing under his eye with his thumb. “I gotta go get ice cream first though.”
“Oh my god,” says Karen, voice strangled.
“I’ll go with you,” Buck decides, but then Chimney is there with his hands on Eddie’s shoulders.
“Oh no,” he says, “We let the two of you go and we’ll lose you in the night, and then there will be no ice cream and the children will riot.”
“You’re the one who was demanding drumsticks in the first place,” Eddie points out, not even looking away from Buck’s face.
“And I will join the mob with the pitchforks. Let’s go, lover boy.” Chimney leans over to pat Buck's arm. "I promise I'll get your- jesus, are we accepting that as an actual proposal- yeah? Okay- I'll get your fiancé back swiftly and in one piece."
Eddie can do nothing but grin dumbly back at Buck as Chimney all but drags him outside. There are stars out, sort of, as many as you ever get in a city as big as Los Angeles, and Eddie feels a strange urge to write poetry about them.
"Did you know I was in love with him?"
"Had a pretty good idea," Chim says, voice strained.
"Why didn't I know that?"
Chimney hacks a cough into his elbow. "I- I really couldn't possibly answer that."
It's taking Eddie a tremendous amount of effort to put one foot in front of the other in the right order. "I feel like I'm drunk."
Chimney claps him on the shoulder. "You're going through a lot of change."
Eddie thinks about it for a moment. "No, I'm not."
“Hm?”
Chimney spins around to face Eddie as he stops walking all together. “It’s… I mean, we might get to kiss now,” Eddie says, pulse suddenly feverish as he considers that for a few seconds. He shakes his head to get back on track. “But… It’s Buck. Haven’t… I mean… It’s always been like this. My life is his already.”
Chimney is making a new face now, still a smile but it’s twisted up sideways and his eyes are a little watery. He throws his head back with a wet scoffing sound and hooks his arm through Eddie’s, tugging him along again. “Well, what the fuck, I’m stupidly happy for you. Unbelievable.”
“Thank you,” Eddie laughs, leaning into him a little. “Oh shit, I- I have to get a ring.”
Chimney cackles into his shoulder. “Might be a difficult find at the corner store, but I’ll keep my eyes peeled.”
When they stagger through the doors of the 24 hour market a few blocks from Maddie and Chimney’s place the bored clerk looks at them like they are drunk, and Eddie tries to take a few steadying breaths. “I’ll get ice cream, you grab snacks?”
Chimney nods, and they split up. Eddie stares down at the freezer and tries to remember any list of anything he’s ever learned in his life before his phone buzzes in his pocket.
Buck 8:43 PM Mint It’s-Its, drumsticks, rocket pops, neapolitan, caramel bars, rocky road, coffee ice cream?, Doritos, barbecue chips, avocados (and tortilla chips please), microwave popcorn
Buck 8:44 PM also I didn’t say it but I love you Eddie
Buck 8:44 PM sorry I should have waited for you to get back to say it maybe but
Buck 8:45 PM I just wanted you to know it. I didn’t want there to be any more time where you didn’t know it.
Eddie’s breath catches somewhere between lungs and throat. He’s standing close enough to the freezer box that he can feel it’s hum in his knees, or maybe that’s just Buck.
“Hey, Diaz.”
Eddie turns in time to catch the small package Chimney tosses at him. Peach rings. Eddie laughs a little helplessly.
Eddie 8:47 PM i am going to be back so soon and tell you in person but me too buck
Eddie grabs all the ice cream in record time if anyone ever recorded the time for such things, and the rest of the trip feels like a race. He taps his foot as the poor clerk scans everything while shooting him vaguely unimpressed looks, and he’s at least a few feet ahead of Chimney the whole walk back. Finally, the door, finally the hallway, finally Eddie is bursting back into the kitchen. Buck is standing with Bobby’s arm around his shoulders and Chris leaning against his side and he looks lit up with happiness, smile practically glowing. Eddie feels an answering one on his own face.
“Here,” he says, holding the ice cream bag out sideways and hoping someone will take it. Karen does, with a snort. “Oh, uh, wait-“ Eddie leans over to dig for the bag of gummies, grabbing his prize and grinning at her. “Thank you.”
“No problem,” she laughs, leaning forward to kiss his cheek before starting to dig out the ice cream for distribution.
When Eddie looks up Buck has moved to stand in front of him. “Hi.”
Buck ducks his head like his smile is too heavy to hold it up anymore. “Hi, Eds.”
“Oh,” Eddie says, taking the half step necessary to press close to him all over. “Hey, I love you. I love you, too. I didn’t realize, but I absolutely do.”
Buck laughs, what a wonderful sound, and wipes his eyes with one hand. “I love you so much, Eddie.”
“Okay!” Laughter goes up around them. “Okay, I have-“ Eddie tears open the plastic, fishes out a single peach ring. “It’s the best I could do short notice.”
“What…” Buck looks down at the candy, and then starts laughing and crying harder as Eddie grabs his hand and does his best to roll the gummy circle onto his ring finger. “Wait, I- I was the one who proposed.”
“There’s a whole bag of them,” Eddie says, waving it around. “You wanna-“
“Yeah, uh huh-“ Buck takes a peach ring of his own, slides it onto Eddie’s finger, and it’s truly ridiculous but even in this Buck treats him so gently, cradling Eddie’s hand like it’s a precious thing. It makes Eddie feel a little lightheaded. The sugar of the gummy is gritty against his skin, and he has to hold his fingers weird to accommodate the bulk of it, but Buck is looking at them like they’d just exchanged diamonds, and Eddie isn’t sure he’s ever been in a more perfect moment. But then Buck leans down and Eddie moves forward and they’re kissing, really kissing, Buck’s arms sliding around his waist like they’re meant to fit there and Eddie cradling his face between his hands, and Chris shouts in delighted disgust and there’s cheering and more laughter around them, and Eddie thinks, stunned, that he might get a life of perfect moments with this man.
They are surrounded by friends and family, so Buck pulls back before either of them can really get lost in each other. “You’re sure?” He whispers. “You don’t have to- I was just- you actually want to get married?”
“Yes,” Eddie says immediately. “And also come home, please. Every day, like- move in with me. You don’t have to use the couch.”
Chimney snorts behind them. Buck nods, and they’re close enough that his nose almost pokes Eddie in the eye. “Yeah, yeah- I wanna come home.”
Eddie kisses him again — perfect, the way their lips fit together is perfect — and then looks for Chris. “Hey, mijo, you wanna have a sleepover?”
“Sure,” Chris says, “With who?”
“Uh.” Eddie cranes to look around Buck at anyone else in the room.
“We’ll take him,” Hen says, raising a hand and looking extremely amused and entirely fond.
“With Denny,” Eddie says to Chris.
“Okay,” Chris says, crunching his face up. “I don’t want to be there if you’re going home to make out.”
“We absolutely are,” Eddie says, as Buck sputters a little. He disentangles himself from Eddie and crouches in front of Chris.
“Chris… I just want to make sure this is okay with you. I- I love your dad very much, and I love you so much, and if it makes you uncomfortable-“
“Buck,” Chris says, slightly exasperated, as he wraps his arms around his shoulders in a hug. “I love you, too. And I kind of thought you were married for awhile when I was little, so you’re just catching up.”
“Oh,” Buck says, watery. “Yeah?”
“You take care of us,” Chris says, leaning back to look at him. “And you’re at our house all the time.”
Buck laughs, and Eddie’s lungs stutter along with him. “Well, okay then. I’ll keep doing both of those things. Sounds good?”
“Sounds good,” Chris says, already looking towards the living room. “Are you going to play Mario kart, now?”
“Uh,” Buck says, looking up at Eddie. “Is it okay if I take a rain check on that?”
Chris heaves a sigh. “Fine, but you better practice for next time. May still hasn’t lost.”
“And I’m not going to!” She calls from the other room. “Also, congratulations!”
“Thank you,” Buck and Eddie call together. Buck gives Chris another hug, and Eddie squeezes him tight as he makes his way to the living room.
“Bye, Superman. We’ll see you tomorrow. I love you.”
“Love you too, dad.”
Buck takes his hand again. Eddie wants to kiss him again, but he thinks once he starts he might never stop. “Anybody mind if we duck out early?” He asks the room at large, fully planning on backing out the door no matter what the answer is.
Chimney pats his arm. “Please for the love of god leave my home.”
“Got it,” Eddie says, pulling a giggling Buck towards the door.
“Paperwork!” Bobby calls. “Monday! And don’t get married until I can get everyone the day off!”
“I-“ Eddie looks into Buck’s eyes, kisses him once on the cheek because they’re in the hallway and no one can see them anymore probably. “I’m not gonna make any promises about that.”
“Wait-“
“Bye!” Buck calls, cheerfully, and then they’re out on the front porch.
And, well, they’re really out of sight of the others now, so Eddie pulls him down for another kiss, intent on finding out what his molars taste like, but then the door is opening again.
“Gross,” Chimney says. “Take your ice cream with you.”
Rocky road and coffee, still cold but getting warmer, land not entirely gracefully in Eddie’s arms. The door closes again. “I told him he wouldn’t have freezer room. These are gonna melt.”
Buck takes his tub, grinning a mile wide. “We better get home quick, then.”
“For the ice cream,” Eddie nods, cheeks hurting with his smile.
“Yep.” Buck says. “The ice cream.”
They clasp their free hands together, and then, breathless and laughing, run to the car.
It’s kind of late but if anyone is still around and has stuff to post (you could also consider this as being tagged for inspiration Saturday if you want) @callaplums @shortsighted-owl @buckactuallys @shitouttabuck @wildlife4life @eddiebabygirldiaz @bigfootsmom @henswilsons @homerforsure
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title: stranger than a stranger
pairing: pre-boston raider!joel miller x female reader
rating: explicit (18+ MDNI)
word count: 4964
summary:
When Joel sees you searching for supplies in an old school, he removes your companion from the equation and convinces you that you need to join him for your survival.
author's note: a gift for @dreamingofdaddydin, fellow depraved slut, who sent in an ask that i completely changed. please heed the warnings on this one, as there are dark and potentially triggering elements. if you do decide to read and you enjoy, please consider reblogging or commenting!
content warnings/tags: explicit sexual content (18+ minors do not interact), undefined age gap, no use of y/n, post-outbreak/pre-boston QZ, dark!joel miller, perv!joel miller, survival as coercion/manipulation, dub/non-con somnophilia (the actions are not agreed upon before hand but reader is receptive once waking), sex as a thank you, voyeurism, masturbation, canon typical violence (mentions guns, knives, blood), handjobs, dirty talk, pet names (sweetheart, baby, honey), cum eating, huddling for warmth but manipulative, wet dreams, thigh fucking, fingering, unprotected p in v. please let me know if any are missing!
You never expected to live through an apocalypse. In fact, before the cordyceps outbreak, you and your boyfriend had watched Night of the Living Dead and you joked that if the time ever came, just throw you to the zombies or demons or whatever hell unleashed.
Yet here you are, ten years post-outbreak and the collapse of one QZ that you and your boyfriend had been living in, climbing through a destroyed school building, picking your way through rubble as you follow Liam in his search for more supplies.
“The stores around here are probably picked clean, but a lot of people don’t think about checking schools. They’ve got plenty of non-perishables in the cafeteria. Remember? We ate like shit growing up,” Liam explains. He shines a flashlight down a hall. “Well, I guess we ate better than we do now.”
“I miss chicken nuggets,” you lament. He chuckles.
“I could definitely use a cheeseburger,” Liam replies.
You continue moving quietly through the school, the cement and linoleum cracked by overgrowth and the abandoned classrooms of overturned desks making you feel like you’re in a whole different world and not just in an elementary school in Massachusetts.
“You got your knife and gun, right?” Liam asks quietly. You nod, pulling the gun from the waist of your jeans and showing it to him. “Good, keep it handy. You know those fuckers are always hiding around buildings like this.”
You and Liam had just started dating when the outbreak occurred, and you managed to stick together for the last ten years. He’s taught you a lot about survival - shooting a gun, starting a fire, and finding edible vegetation in the woods, among other skills. Despite your original desire to be spared from an apocalypse, you’ve somehow managed to persevere.
“Remember to aim for the head,” Liam says.
You roll your eyes. “No, I figured I’d aim for a foot. Of course I’m aiming for the head.”
“Alright, smart ass. You go down that hall and see what you can find.” He pulls you closer, pressing a kiss to your temple. “I’m gonna look for the cafeteria. Meet me back here.”
With another nod, you part ways.
You both miss the figure lurking in the shadows.
________
Joel watches you disappear around a corner before his attention returns to your companion. The man walks quickly in the opposite direction, holding only a flashlight in his hands. Joel clocks a holster on his hip that must hold a gun or a knife. The man looks like the type to know how to fight, weapons or not.
Too bad Joel is the predator here.
He leaves the dark shadow he’d hidden himself in, following the man with quick, quiet steps. The other man seems alert, but not alert enough to notice Joel following him.
Good.
Joel watches the man draw a gun from the holster, holding it in front of him as he kicks open a set of double doors, sweeping his flashlight and gun into the darkness beyond. Joel slips through the door before it shuts, darkness surrounding him as he lets his eyes adjust.
It looks like a gymnasium, cracked hardwood basketball flooring with faded court lines illuminated in the small flashlight beam of the man, who continues across the court and out another set of double doors.
He follows him back out to a hallway, brightly lit thanks to a hole in the ceiling, crumbled plaster and cement littering the ground. He takes a few steps closer, stopping when he hears a clicking sound that sends a shiver down his spine.
The man freezes, too, eyes wide, hands tightening on his gun. Joel slowly brings the shotgun slung over his back around to his front, taking it up in his hands.
The clicking grows louder, more insistent. It echoes down the hallway and Joel knows that the creature is aware of their presence. No matter how quiet you are, those fuckers know how to find you.
He aims his gun, finger poised on the trigger. Heavy footsteps approach from the end of the hall, punctuated by the clicking noise that makes his hair stand on end. The creature enters the hall, overgrowth of cordyceps blocking its eyes and features. It pauses, head turning with jerky motions as it seeks out its prey. He watches the other man shift his stance, trying to widen his legs, but his foot catches a rock, sending it sliding across the floor.
The creature’s head snaps at the sound and it ambles closer, faster. Joel takes aim, pulling the trigger and blowing its head across the room. The man turns in surprise.
“Damn, man. Thanks,” he says, taking a deep breath and giving Joel a smile of gratitude. He reaches a hand out as he says, “I’m Li—“
He pulls the trigger and the man collapses to the ground face first, blood rapidly pooling beneath his body.
Joel approaches, crouching beside him. He opens the bag on his back, rifling through the contents for anything that might be of use. There’s a med kit, ammo for the handgun he’d been using, gloves, a jacket, and a hunting knife. He shoves all of it into his own bag before grabbing the gun beside the man’s body as he stands.
Joel slides the gun into his waistband before turning and heading back the way he came. He imagines the gunshots will have you rushing back to investigate.
Just like he wanted.
________
You hear two gunshots go off, freezing in your exploration of a classroom. You listen closely, ears straining for any sign of clicker activity due to the noise as you slowly draw your gun from your waistband. Hearing nothing in the aftermath of the gunshots, you race back towards the area where Liam had agreed to meet you, heart racing as your mind begs you to choose flight and not fight.
In your panic, you don’t notice the man in the hall until you’re colliding against him, his arms gripping your shoulders to steady you.
“Who the fuck are you?” You ask, scrambling out of his hold and pointing your gun at him. He’s tall with broad shoulders, a flannel beneath a faded denim jacket stretching over his frame. He has tan skin and dark hair with brown eyes that look at you with concern. “Back the fuck up,” you shout.
The man takes a step back, holding his hands up. “I ain’t gonna hurt you.”
“I heard gunshots. Where’s Liam?”
“I came up on a guy fightin’ a clicker. He was in bad shape,” he says. “I’m sorry.”
There’s a buzzing in your ears as your brain catches up to his words. You blink, eyes burning with tears that you fight back.
“H-he’s dead?” You whisper.
“‘Fraid so.”
You drop to your hands and knees with the realization, gasping for a breath that won’t reach your lungs. There’s movement from the corner of your eye, the strange man taking a step closer, and you raise your gun once more.
“Don’t,” you snap. “Come any closer and I’ll shoot.”
“Listen. I’m sorry about your friend. But if there’s one clicker, there’s bound to be more. You can come with me.”
“I’m not going anywhere with you. I’ll be fine on my own.” You keep the gun trained on him as you slowly stand on shaky legs. “I’m leaving now. Don’t fucking follow me.”
You only make it a few steps before he’s calling out after you. “There’s worse things out there than the infected. Girl like you won’t last long.”
“The fuck does that mean?”
“It means,” he says, the tone of his voice grating your nerves, “that there are bad fuckin’ people out there, ones that’ll take advantage of a girl headin’ out on her own. Some who won’t give a shit that a gun is bein’ pointed at their heads if it means they die tryin’ to bring you down with ‘em. Is that really somethin’ you wanna go through right now?”
Your resolve waivers. He’s probably right. In the ten years you’ve been struggling to survive, you’ve always had Liam at your back. Even in the QZ, before it collapsed, he kept you going. You could survive out there when it came to skill, but would you make it far on your own when clickers move in packs and raiders run rampant?
“I…I guess I’ll come with you,” you say, lowering your weapon. You flick the safety on and the man smiles.
“The name’s Joel.”
________
It’s been a week since joining Joel. The two of you keep a steady pace in your travels, though there’s no real destination in mind. He’s been on his own for a while, he tells you, having split from his brother who had gone to join the Fireflies in their fight.
“Fuckin’ stupid if you ask me,” he grumbled after telling you that little bit of information. “They ain’t gonna change shit.”
You just nod along, wrapped up in your own thoughts. You can’t pinpoint it, but something about Joel makes you wary of him. He’s been nice enough, sure, but there’s something off about the way he looks at you.
You’ll catch the older man staring at your ass when you’re walking ahead of him, or see the way his eyes go dark when you’re on your knees starting a fire. His hands will linger on your hips a little longer than necessary when he’s helping you jump down from something, or he’ll watch a little too intently as your lips wrap around the mouth of your water bottle.
What’s worse is how it makes you feel hot all over when you shouldn’t feel anything, least of all attraction when you’ve just lost your boyfriend.
It’s starting to get cold at night. The days are still tolerable, since you’re always on the move and the sun is shining, but once the sky goes dark, you struggle to stay warm. You layer your two jackets and even that’s still not enough as you lay shivering in your sleeping bag. You turn over until you’re facing where Joel has his bag set up, curling your legs closer to your chest and squeezing your eyes shut.
Past the sound of your teeth chattering, you hear the shift of fabric, the glide of skin on skin, a low groan. Your eyes snap open and as they adjust to the inky darkness, you can make out the vague shape of Joel on the ground. Another choked off moan rings in your ear, the sound of it making your blood go hot. You listen as his movements and breaths and sounds grow more frantic, the desperation they’re laced with making you rub your thighs together as subtly as you can.
“Fuck, fuck,” Joel pants quietly. The air goes still, the sound of his hand moving over his cock slowing to a stop. You wonder where he’s finished. In his hand? On his belly? Your brain conjures an image of you licking the spend from his skin, salty taste of him on your tongue as you look up into his eyes and he groans.
You have to bite your lip to keep your sounds to yourself. You wiggle a hand between your legs, clamping your thighs around it tightly and rocking slightly. It’s not nearly enough and it’s so frustrating you want to scream.
Eventually, as the adrenaline seeps from your body, sleep takes its place, your eyes fluttering shut as darkness consumes you.
You dream of bitten off groans and curses in a voice that belongs to a stranger with dark hair and brown eyes.
________
Two weeks after joining the two of you encounter your first band of raiders.
You’re in a small town picking through a convenience store. There’s a surprising amount of things left on the shelves, including cans of food that you’re tossing into your backpack when the sound of a gun being cocked makes you freeze.
“Hey, pretty girl. Why don’t you put some of that back for the rest of us, yeah?” An unfamiliar voice says. You glance over your shoulder, a large man with a thick beard smiling at you. You turn slowly, hands raised and mind racing with your options.
He’s blocking the exit. You could try to dart around him, but the gun trained at your head is a bit of a worry. Your own gun is in the waistband of your pants, pressing against your low back. Not much help to you like that. You should have been holding it the whole time.
“Hand over your fucking bag,” he says, the calm in his more alarming than if he were yelling at you. “Got me some food and a pretty little pet to keep, too.”
Your blood turns to ice and your heartbeat pounds in your ears as you swallow hard, bending down to grab your bag.
A shot rings out, glass shattering and you shout, dropping lower to the ground. You open your eyes slowly, you gaze landing on the body of the man lying on the ground in a rapidly expanding pool of blood. You look up, eyes finding Joel’s beyond the shattered window of the convenience store as he lowers his gun.
A shout has Joel whirling, gun drawn as three men appear from an alley. He shoots, one of the men dropping. Grabbing your bag, you rush to the front of the store as another shot rings out, shattering the glass of the door. You drop to the ground, pressing your back to the wall beside the window and peeking out.
Joel slings his gun over his back, landing a kick to a man that rushes him, the stranger landing on his back. A second man points a gun at Joel.
“On your fuckin’ knees!” He barks.
Panic courses through you, but you reach behind you, grabbing your gun. You switch the safety off, leaning from your hiding spot to take aim through the window at the man. Your hands shake as you take a breath in, like Liam taught you, pulling the trigger as you exhale.
The shot lands in the man’s abdomen, making him stumble and drop his weapon. Joel stands, rushing for the man as he pulls a large knife from his hip, plunging the blade into the man’s chest.
The man he kicked is getting to his hands and knees when Joel turns on him, knife held at his hip. A wicked grin spreads across his face before he plants his boot against the man’s ribs, knocking him onto his side. Joel shoves at him with his foot until the man is on his back and he stands over him, a foot on either side of his hips.
Joel raises the knife above his head before swinging it down into the man’s chest, holding it there for a moment before he twists it savagely and pulls it free. You stand there, equal parts horrified and something worse, eyes wide as you watch Joel wipe the blade against the man’s clothes to clean it.
“Get their guns, will ya?” Joel calls out. The sound of his voice makes you jump, your muscles finally spurring into action as you comply with his request.
Later, as you settle in for the night in your respective sleeping bags, you hear the tell-tale sound of shifting fabric and bitten off moans. You stare up at the dark sky, pinpricks of starlight winking back at you, as you gather your courage.
“Joel?” You murmur. The sounds stop abruptly, the only thing you can hear is his heavy breathing.
“Thought you were sleepin’,” he grunts.
You turn over on your side, facing him. You can barely make him out in the dark, only his silhouette, but your heart beats faster all the same as you say, “I could…help.”
He’s quiet for a long moment, so long that you’ve got an apology on the tip of your tongue when you hear the zip of his sleeping bag being opened.
“Come help, then.”
________
Joel tries to contain his enthusiasm. Nights of coming into his own palm while he knows you’re listening, imagining your hand around his cock instead of his, and now his patience has finally paid off.
You’re crawling across the grass to join him in his sleeping bag, your body pressed to his in the tight space. He takes a shuddering breath, the feel of your heat alone almost enough to make him come.
Your hand rests on his belly, tentatively sliding lower until your fingers brush against the hair at the base of his cock. He hisses as your cold hand grips him at the base, slowly sliding up to his leaking tip. Your thumb circles his slit, smearing a bead of precum around the sensitive head as he groans into the night.
“That’s it, baby,” Joel says. Your face is tucked against his neck, and he wishes you’d turn your face up, let him kiss you, but he has to be smart and only take what you’ll give so that one day you’ll offer more. “Tighter, just like that, fuck.”
Joel’s hips flex to chase your fist, the soft feel of your palm driving him wild. He moans, louder than he should be given the vulnerable position this puts you both in, but he doesn’t give a fuck. All he cares about is you.
“This a ‘thank you’, huh? For killin’ those guys?” Joel pants. Your head nods against his neck and the admission makes his head feel light and fuzzy. “Told ya you needed me, sweetheart. Needed someone to take care of you, right?”
You hum, squirming against him. Your lips graze his neck and that’s the final nail in his coffin, his cock pulsing in your hand as he comes harder than he has in years. He can’t help but whine a little when you let go, already missing the warmth and the softness of it.
“Clean it up for me, baby,” Joel says. You bring your hand up, nothing but a dark shape against darker air, and he hears you licking at the cum coating your fingers. “That taste good?”
“Mhm,” you hum. When you’re done, you roll away from him, crawling back over to your sleeping bag and zipping yourself inside.
With a sigh, Joel shimmies his jeans back up his thighs before turning on his side, letting the sounds of the night lull him to sleep.
________
You’ve been with Joel for a month when winter really starts to settle in and you’re forced to keep moving in your travels until you’ve found abandoned buildings to sleep in to stay out of the harsh winter air. While the snow might not reach you inside, the cold certainly does.
It’s one such night that Joel suggests sharing body heat.
“It’s the best thing we can do to keep warm,” he explains. “Can’t keep a fire goin’ inside. Too dangerous.”
You swallow nervously. He’s zipping together your sleeping bags so that you can fit beside each other, laying it on the ground of the old stockroom you’ve barricaded yourselves in for the night, a little camping lamp on a metal shelf providing a little light.
Joel kneels to untie his boots, removing one then the other and setting them aside. He stands, sliding his arms free of his jacket and setting it on the shelf. When he starts to unbutton his flannel, your blood rushes in your ears.
“W-what are you doing?” You ask. He pauses, hands on his buttons.
“Gettin’ undressed. Can’t share body heat with clothes in the way.”
You stand there frozen as he continues to strip, t-shirt and jeans and boxers all joining his growing pile of clothes until he’s naked in front of you and you’re struggling to keep your eyes on his face with so much muscle and skin on display. He slides into the sleeping bag, staring up at you expectantly.
“You gonna stand there all night?” He asks, lips tilted in a little smirk. “Come on. We’ve come a long way today and you gotta be tired.”
You’re exhausted, really, the kind of tired that settles into your bones and makes your limbs heavy. Slowly, you follow the same steps as he did to undress, starting with your shoes. It doesn’t escape your notice that he’s watching you with dark eyes the entire time, until you’re down to your underwear.
“Those, too,” Joel says.
“Why?”
“I don’t make the rules, sweetheart, I just follow ‘em. Skin to skin is the only way this’ll work.”
Reluctantly, you reach behind your back to unclip your bra, letting it fall to the floor. Your nipples are tight in the cold room and you grit your teeth against their chattering as you quickly tug your panties down your legs and add them to your pile of clothing.
You slip into the sleeping bag beside Joel, the heat of his body immediately making you feel warm all over. You zip up the sleeping bag, cocooning your bodies in the insulation. Joel turns on his side, sliding his muscular around your tummy and tugging you closer. The hard length of his cock presses to your thigh and you lie perfectly still, afraid to move.
“Go to sleep,” he grunts. You close your eyes, the tension slowly leaving your muscles as you listen to his deep breathing in the dark room.
Somewhere between the warmth of his body and the feel of his breath against your cheek, sleep finds you.
________
Sometime in the night, you’ve turned on your side, your ass pressed snugly against Joel’s hips with his cock slipped between your cheeks. He wakes to the feel of you grinding against his length and his arm tightens around your middle as he groans.
“Joel,” you murmur. He lifts his head to see if you’re awake, but your eyes are shut, brows pinched together. Your hips move against him again and he bites into his lower lip to keep his sounds contained, not wanting to wake you and ruin this.
You murmur his name again and his head drops back to the arm he’d been using as a pillow. He gives a little experimental thrust of his hips and you moan, the sound making his cock jump against you.
With careful movements, he lifts your top leg, laying it over his hip. He lets his hand drift lower, gliding over your tummy until he’s cupping your pussy gently. His fingers slide through your wetness, catching on your swollen clit and making your hips jerk.
Joel worries that you’re awake, but you’re not scrambling from his grip yet. He circles his fingers slowly, so slowly, your hips moving against him and your breathing coming more quickly. You let out little whimpers and whines that Joel wants to commit to memory, the sound of them sure to plague him any time he closes his eyes.
You’re growing wetter and Joel grows bolder, slipping his middle finger into your tight entrance, not able to hold back his moan of appreciation over how your cunt flutters around the digit as he slowly pumps it inside of you.
Another whimper of his name from your lips has his sanity fraying further, his hand moving faster against you, damn the consequences of you waking up to him playing with your pussy. Your muscles go tight against him with your release before going limp, your breath stuttering. He lifts his head once more to check if you’re asleep, surprised to find your face lax with bliss, eyes still closed as your breathing slows to normal.
Joel withdraws his hand, using it to grip his cock, sliding your juices over his length. He angles himself to where his cock is pressed up against your lips before gently lowering your leg. He’s surrounded by warmth, your pussy and thighs cradling him perfectly.
He thrusts his hips, his cock gliding through your wetness with ease. He loses himself to the slick glide, the tip of his cock catching against your swollen clit with each thrust. His fingers dig into the meat of your hip for leverage, pulling you back towards him as he groans against your shoulder.
Your muscles go stiff against him and he freezes as you whisper, “Joel?”
His name is a question this time and he knows he’s been caught.
“It can be another ‘thank you’, yeah? For keepin’ you warm?” He asks, dragging his nose across your bare shoulder. “Could feel so good for us both,” he whispers, thrusting against your clit and reveling in the shaky moan you give him in return.
“O-okay,” you stutter. Joel presses a kiss to your shoulder in gratitude as he returns to the rhythm he’d set before you woke. He slides an arm over your middle, hand finding your breast and gripping it forcefully as you moan.
“That feel good, baby?” He asks. You nod, whining and squirming against him now. “Know what would feel better?”
“W-what?”
He draws back, positioning the tip of his cock against your hole. Your breath catches as he slides inside the slightest amount. Just the tip.
“Would feel so good, right? Fillin’ you up, stretchin’ you,” he whispers. “You could keep me warm just like I’ve been keepin’ you warm all night.” You clench around him and he moans, hips flexing and sliding him deeper into you as you gasp. “So goddamn wet and tight.”
Joel slides the last bit deeper, until his hips are flush to your ass. You’re panting, cunt fluttering around him as you adjust, and he feels drunk on the feel of it, on the feel of you. He pulls out part way before sliding back in with a harsh thrust, the start of a punishing rhythm that has you chanting his name.
The slick slide of you over his cock feels like heaven, but he wants more, wants you cock drunk and earning your pleasure. You are supposed to be thanking him, after all.
He pulls out, lying on his back. “Get up here, sweetheart. It’s time to do your part.”
You turn until you’re facing him, and Joel gets impatient, grabbing at you until he can haul you into his lap, your slick, swollen pussy gliding over his cock. He groans, reaching between your bodies to hold himself steady, notching the thick head at your entrance.
“Take it, baby, come on,” he groans. You rock back until his cock is buried in your cunt, your knees pressing tight against his hips as you whine.
“S’deep,” you slur, rocking yourself over him.
“Feels good though, doesn’t it? So fuckin’ deep in you,” he growls. Your chest is pressed to his, your lips so close he takes his chance, slotting his mouth against yours.
You kiss him back, messy and desperate, moaning against his lips as you take his cock like you were made for it. And maybe you were. Why else would he have been in the right place at the right time, getting the chance to keep you all for himself?
You sit up further, hands planted on his chest as you ride him with fervor. Your blunt fingernails dig into his skin and make him groan, hips punching up into you as you rock back. When you moan desperately, he does it again, and again, until you’re letting out a choked little sob that makes his cock pulse inside of you.
“Come for me, honey, wanna feel this pretty pussy choke my cock,” Joel demands. He can feel your walls flutter around him, your noises growing desperate. He brings a hand to your clit, thumb circling the sensitive bundle of nerves until you tighten around him, squeezing his cock as you come undone with a shout.
You collapse forward and Joel wraps his arms around your low back, holding you steady as he plants his feet and pounds his cock into you with harsh thrusts, chasing his release. Your teeth dig into the sensitive skin of his neck and the sharp sting sends him over the edge. He pulls out at the last moment, his cum splashing between your bodies in thick spurts.
You lie on top of him, catching your breath. Sweat grows sticky on Joel’s skin as the cool air settles around them, your back erupting in goosebumps as you shiver. He maneuvers your bodies until you’re cradled against him again.
“Go back to sleep, sweetheart,” he murmurs.
When you nestle closer, body lax against his, he smiles in triumph.
_______
You wake before Joel the next morning, body sticky with the mess from the night. You cringe, wiggling away from Joel’s hold. You find your discarded shirt and water bottle, intending to soak the fabric to wipe yourself clean, only to find your bottle is empty.
You locate Joel’s backpack, knowing he keeps his water bottle in there. You dig through the contents, hand bumping against the familiar bulk of a handgun. Your brow furrows. You haven’t seen Joel use a handgun. He uses the shotgun on his back, the other weapons you’d collected from the raiders stored in your bag.
You pull the weapon free and inspect it. You know this gun. It’s the same gun you’d learn to shoot with, the first one Liam found in the aftermath of the outbreak. Your blood turns to ice.
Joel said he’d seen Liam get attacked by a clicker. If that’s the case, when did he get Liam’s gun?
The sound of Joel moving in the sleeping bag has you shoving the gun back into his bag and grabbing the water bottle you’d gone in search of in the first place.
You’ll have to worry about your discovery some other day.
Want more Joel Miller? Check out the masterlist
#joel miller#joel miller x reader#joel miller fic#joel miller x female reader#joel miller smut#joel miller fanfiction#joel miller x you#no use of y/n#joel tlou#joel x reader#dark joel miller#joel miller the last of us#joel miller fic request#joel miller masterlist#the last of us
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Together?
Pairing: Vinsmoke Sanji x [gender neutral] Reader
Summary: Hanging out after a busy night at Baratie.
Tags: Bitter sweet / Sanji is very loving / Boyfriend material / Sanji needs to hear some truths
MASTERLIST
“They’ve lost their minds,” Sanji said in a lower voice tone as he stepped closer to you while you stirred the boiling sauce without taking your eyes off it—a little distraction could ruin a job of hours, and you’d learned that the worst way. “Oregano does not go in everything,” he whispered next to your ear while looking over your shoulder to check what you were doing. He never criticized your job, of course, unless he were to say something about how you should stop following the recipes and orders so strictly, but you knew better than that. Seeing what happened with Sanji for it was enough of a lesson.
“Just shut up and cook,” you sighed as you put the pan on the counter and replaced it with another of boiling water on the stove, already getting the next dish started.
Sanji huffed as he showed you a plate of what he’d done. It was certainly nothing from the menu. “Try it.”
You didn’t stop what you were doing, still adding the vegetables to the plates and covering them with sauce as you opened your mouth and let Sanji feed you a piece of whatever he’d prepared. The sweet taste of the pastry contrasted very well with the savory flavor of the filling, which probably consisted of some sort of fish and a rich sauce. You took your time to savor it before you nodded.
“That’s great, Sanji.” You nodded as you finished the dishes and called one of the waiters to say that table 11’s order was ready. “Like, great,” you tried to express, but it was hard since you were always complimenting Sanji’s cooking a lot. “Above the usual.”
Despite how you moved around so fast to keep up with the orders, Sanji still followed you with that plate in hand. “At least you have some sense, but Zeff—”
“We got orders piling in,” Zeff’s voice spoke over the loud clanking and chattering of the kitchen, as if on cue. “That means no one slacking off!”
Sanji knew it was mainly directed at him, of course. He pressed his lips together and huffed, shaking his head. He grabbed the last piece of what he’d cooked and fed it to you before he walked away.
In comparison to the open hours, the Baratie could actually be very quiet during the late night hours. The mess and euphoria took another tone and another focus. The loud chatter and music coming from the bar could only be heard faintly in the docks area. No one used to arrive at such late night hours, and the crowd was concentrated at the bar, so it would be quite peaceful there. Watching the moon’s reflection on the calm water was soothing.
The relative silence was disrupted by a pattern of footsteps that you knew very well. “I’m going to be reduced to being a fucking chore-boy at some point,” Sanji said as he eventually stopped and took a seat next to you, on the wooden platform of the dock, feet also hanging from the edge. His breathing was a little out of pace and his forehead was a little sweaty, so he had probably been off doing extra chores as some sort of punishment by Zeff. He sighed as he reached inside his jacket and pulled out a cigarette.
You hummed softly. “Hm, maybe.”
Sanji was about to light his cigarette, but he paused and looked at you, dead in the eyes, frozen. “(Y/n), I—”
“No, hear me out!” You sat up properly, trying to come up with a way of saying it in as few words as possible to prevent Sanji from freaking out before you were finished. He looked so cute while angrily trying to get his lighter to work, spinning the sparkwheel with more strength than necessary, sending sparkles flying in the night darkness until he was finally able to light his cigarette. “It’s not that no one recognizes your talent or something, Sanji,” you sighed. “Zeff knows you’re good.”
Sanji furrowed his eyebrows, eyeing you in disbelief, but with that edge of sarcasm.
You observed him for a long moment. “Honestly, what do you want with your life?”
“The All Blue,” Sanji answered without missing a beat. The tip of his cigarette glowed in the dark as he took a drag of it, holding the smoke before slowly exhaling.
“Yeah. How do you expect to achieve it, though?” You raised an eyebrow.
There were a few attempts to answer. A couple of unfinished words came from Sanji as he opened his mouth a few times, but he never properly came up with anything, instead looking off to the sea after returning his cigarette to his lips.
“Exactly,” you said. “You—”
“What does it have to do with anything?” Sanji scoffed.
A silence filled in for a moment as you observed Sanji, trying to wonder what was going on in that mind of his. Sometimes, you wanted to hit him upside the head to check if that’d do anything, maybe shake up his brain and make it work for life the way it worked for food prep.
“Do you think you can find the All Blue by being a chef in the Baratie?” You asked honestly, not really putting effort into sounding all kind and sweet. “What good will it do if you just continue here, being a cook, settled down? It’s so easy to notice that Zeff is trying to push you off, so you can go do something greater, Sanji! He won’t say it directly because both of you are so stubborn, but it’s so clear!”
“But he—”
“He’s a retired pirate,” you cut in. “He’s already lived his life, and the Baratie is what he wants for now, but you? He knows you’re strong and determined. Sometimes he does stuff just to see if you’ll leave and actually do something because you’re so stubborn!”
Sanji clicked his tongue, cursing under his breath as he took another drag of his cigarette. He leaned forward with his elbows on his knees. “How can you even be so sure of it? I’m just not wanted.”
He was so tiring. A sharp sigh escaped your nose as you looked away, shaking your head.
“Even so, do you want to be here your whole life?” You looked at him again. It was hard seeing his face through his hair and in the dark, but you had an idea of the face he might be making. “The world is so big, Sanji. There’s so much to see and live. It sounds a little pathetic, spending your life in a restaurant while you can do much more. While other people are around traveling, partying, discovering things. Living.”
Silence settled in for a second as you thought. Just the idea of all the things you’d heard or read about in the newspapers made your muscles ache to just steal a boat and start sailing.
Everything sounded quieter, suddenly. Your eyes were fixed on the moon as it stood high in the sky, half full, with a trembling image reflected on the dark sea. Maybe the sky also looked different in other places of the world.
“I wish I could even be a pirate,” you said softly, carefully. “That a pirate crew would recruit me. Let me be anything, even if not a cook, let me go with them to explore and see more things out there.” Another pause. “Don’t you wish the same, Sanji?”
No answer came in for a long moment. Smoke continued coming from Sanji as he sat there, almost unmoving.
“Really?” His voice was quiet.
“Of course.”
Sanji was quiet again. He could be mysterious sometimes. Certain subjects or mentions would often make him just fall silent and thoughtful. “Then we should go together.”
“Together?” You mumbled.
“I wouldn’t go without you,” Sanji said quietly, adjusting his posture with a sigh. There were unsaid words, of course, but words that you already knew very well. No one really gave him attention or help like you did, not to mention that if there was someone aside from Zeff who he’d actually turn to, that’d be you. It took someone to calm Sanji’s thoughts or at least help him organize them, and that’d usually be you as well.
“Great,” you stated. Your eyes didn’t even dart his way as you spoke. “I don’t think I’d let you, either.”
A sensation of accomplishment took over both of you, managing to dissolve most of the tension that was going on. Both of you had reached an agreement, even if unspoken, taking away part of the worries that clouded your minds. Even if you didn’t say it, you were always on the edge about Sanji leaving, running away in the middle of the night, and leaving you behind with nothing more than worries.
You finally looked away from the sky, observing the sea under you, and then your gaze fell on Sanji’s hand resting some inches away from your thigh. He would wear rings when he wasn’t cooking, and he always had nice ones. He didn’t even flinch when you grabbed his hand to get the ring he had around his index finger; he was already used to you taking his rings, sometimes returning them days later or just keeping them.
“Pretty,” you mumbled as you admired the details engraved on it. Shamefully, it hung loose around all of your fingers, so you ended up sliding it back on his finger. He grabbed your hand before you could pull it away, though.
Sanji tugged on your hand a little, so you moved closer and let him wrap an arm around you. He put out his cigarette against the wood once it reached the filter. “Why do you take my things, hm?” He raised an eyebrow.
You thought for a moment, and it was difficult to actually come to a conclusion about that. “I’m not sure,” you said softly. Maybe it was the need to have anything of his with you. Feel even closer to him.
“Not afraid I’ll get angry at you?”
With a scoff, you shook your head. “You never get angry at me. I’m too pretty for you to get angry at me.”
The way Sanji took a moment to observe you and then faced away with a sigh made you chuckle victoriously. “That doesn’t mean you should be doing that!” He clicked his tongue, but the annoyance he had wasn’t anything but feigned. A sigh escaped his lips as he visibly relaxed a little, shoulders dropping from their tense stance. “You’re not leaving without me, right?” Sanji muttered into your ear.
“Only if you don’t leave without me.” You raised your eyebrows lightly as you looked at him.
Sanji smiled with a proud air, nodding faintly. He leaned in, but you placed a hand over his mouth and turned his head away before anything could happen.
“You know I hate it when you kiss me right after a cigarette!” You pulled your hand away as he started chuckling.
“Only a little one? Pretty please?” Sanji’s attempts to make a dramatic sad face kept failing since he kept laughing at the glares you sent him. “Come on! I got no kisses today! How am I supposed to live without a kiss from you, hm? Hm?” He wrapped his arms around your waist to pull you closer, kissing your cheek a few times, knowing how all of those made you start melting into his arms. You sighed with a soft groan, turning your face until you could finally meet his lips and give him the kiss he wanted so much.
.𓆝 𓆟 𓆞 𓆝 𓆟.
#one piece#opla#one piece live action#one piece netflix#sanji vinsmoke#sanji#x reader#x male reader#x female reader#gender neutral#sanji x reader#sanji x male reader#scenario#oneshot#imagine
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dating in secret/ secret relationship prompts
secret from friends/co workers/roommates/etc
A trying to sneak out of B’s flat in the morning and B’s roommate catching them “A..what are you doing here?” “oh just um- you know” *raises eyebrow* “I WANTED TO TALK TO YOU ACTUALLY HOW HAVE YOU BEEN??”
^ additionally the roommate just being like “…” and A wondering if it worked and the roommate being like “i’m actually so glad i wanted to talk to you too you know i need some advice actually-“ etc
“is that..is that a hickey” “no hahahahah of course not what happened actually is-“ *both the characters who are dating staring at each other awkwardly* “A CAT..BIT THEM ACTUALLY” “YEAH THAT uh a cat..bit me” “on the neck?” “yeah like just..pounced you know *while shooting the other character a “seriously? couldn’t think of anything better??” look*
them just making such fucking elaborate ridiculous lies to hide things and people actually buying it fav trope
A: “i can’t find my camera i have no idea where i kept it” B: “it’s in your second drawer near the wardrobe i think” A’s roommate: “how the fuck do you know that”
C showing up at A’s door (bc they got broken up with or got fired or something) while they’re hooking up with B and then having to hide B in their flat
“whatever you guys say..we were really good at hiding our relationship” “literally all of us knew” “no you didn’t” “we just wanted to see how long you two would manage to keep it up..i must say, that was an extremely entertaining decision”
B’s roommate: “B i think A is stealing our stuff” “what?” “listen. i found your item in their washroom yesterday look i got it back as proof” “tons of people use the same thing B” “it says “property of B” at the bottom”
A and B thinking they’ve made a completely plausible excuse to leave together without anyone suspecting anything, but then when they leave their friends being like “so they’re 100% hooking up” “oh definitely”
feel free to use! tag me if you do <3
#dialogue prompt#dialogue snippet#fluff#fluff prompts#imagine your otp#otp dialogue#otp incorrect quotes#otp prompts#otp ship#romance#romance prompts#story prompt#writing#writing prompt#enemies prompts#enemies to lovers#flirty banter#kiss prompts#smut prompts#suggestive#writblr#writing prompts#flirty#friends to lovers#love prompts#dating#secret relationship#secret relationship prompts#forbidden love#walk of shame
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Pairing ೃ⁀➷ 𝐄𝐚𝐫𝐭𝐡 𝟒𝟐! 𝐌𝐢𝐥𝐞𝐬 𝐌𝐨𝐫𝐚𝐥𝐞𝐬 x Fem! Reader
Summary ೃ⁀➷ Lovers have secrets of their own, no matter how much they come to trust each other, whether it be a past mistake or an unspoken trauma. For you and Miles, however, your secrets came in the form of hidden identities— one being a masked vigilante, and the other a mastermind.
Genre ೃ⁀➷ Forbidden love, mutual pining, angst♡
Tags ೃ⁀➷ Both are artists, reader is from a very wealthy family, both are living double lives, underaged smoking, reader is female and uses she/her pronouns, forbidden love (ish?), swearing, daddy issues, mommy issues, reader is unhinged, both are mentally unstable, lots of flirting.
Author's Note ೃ⁀➷ l went through like a fuck ton of shit [Broke up with my boyfriend of two years, entrance exam, and uh I lost some friends] and 2024’s barely started lol sorry for the late update, i am,,, extremely deep in hurting 👍
Tag list ೃ⁀➷ @sakura-onesan @coffeeandtealol @luvjunie @noetophat @proudgojofucker @depresssedcowboy @adorefavv @l0starl @your-girl-mj @nyumeii @iheartamajiki @yoluv-tiannaaa--212 @bakauwu @callsignwidow
𝐂𝐡𝐚𝐩𝐭𝐞𝐫 𝟏𝟐: 𝐁𝐥𝐨𝐨𝐝 𝐎𝐧 𝐎𝐮𝐫 𝐇𝐚𝐧𝐝𝐬
Summary ೃ⁀➷ Miles and Eddie make an exchange. A certain nightmare plagues his thoughts. Your insanity unfolds, and so does Miles’ suspicions.
[Warning: Blasphemy, mentioned of fucked up things and crimes, deranged thinking]
MASTERLIST
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“Miles, what would make you hate me?”
The memory was so long ago. Well, to be exact, perhaps it’s been a month or two since it happened. Miles could still so clearly remember the way you leaned your head against the damp wall, your eyes far off into the void of whatever haunted you. At that time, his feelings had been but a spark budding within his chest ever so delicately, a butterfly ripping out of its cocoon in his stomach.
“I don’t know.” Miles whispered into the air. “I don’t think it’s possible to truly hate a person when you know them personally.”
At that moment, you looked at him, with your head half-buried within your hood.
“Why’s that?” You asked, fiddling with the ends of your hoodie.
Miles took a moment to think about how to word his answer.
“When you recognize someone enough to know that they’re not evil people who’d do random shit for shits and giggles, you learn to realize that they’re not really a monster.. At least, not as much as they seem.” His lingering gaze travels towards the ample of your cheek. “I can’t hate you when I know you. You’ve got a name, and you’re somebody’s sister, daughter.. Well, you don’t have to be all that. You just need to be somebody, and you’re somebody to me, and that alone’s the reason why I can never hate you.”
“That’s.. Interesting.” You whispered. “So technically, you humanize your enemies.”
“That’s one weird way to put it, but yeah.”
“But what if it’s a façade?” The words rolled off your tongue seamlessly. “What if.. They’re not exactly the person you thought they were. What if they’ve done more harm than good?”
He thinks about it for a moment.
“It’s not my job to humanize people. People humanize themselves.” Miles answered. “If there’s truly nothing at all about this person that makes them human, or makes me feel like they still have a relatively active conscience inside of them.. I can’t.”
“So you’re saying thay if they’re not human, you’ll hate them?”
“No!” He rapidly shook his head.
“No, ‘cause Miles, I’ll be fair with you. Ion think there’s anything more monstrous than humanity. We are our own enemies. Nothing else causes more pain to a human other than its own body or its own kind, which is why hatred is such a natural thing.”
“Hatred is a natural thing for you, because you grew up only having to think about yourself.”
“Because if not me, then who would?” You spewed. You didn’t mean to sound overtly bitter, but you were. “Unlike you, Miles, my family ain’t the shit. It’s me against the world always— I-If, had I gotten a remote opportunity to care about anyone other than myself, maybe I wouldn’t be this hateful.”
“Well, you got a chance now.”
“How so?”
“You got me.”
You paused, wondering if you’ve heard correctly.
“… I’ve got you?”
Whatever did that statement mean? You’ve heard about a million pick-up lines, but what the hell was this?
“F’course you do. We’re friends.”
Friends.
“Friends?” Just friends?
Miles hums. “Buddies. Amigos.”
Ah, right, that’s how it always starts. Just friends.
Miles snuck his hand into one of his pockets, plucking out something round that you were too lost in your haze to even notice. He seems to fiddle with it for a moment, digging his fingers into its plush before nudging it towards you.
“You want some?”
You turned around and realized he’d peeled you an orange. “.. What.. These are so expensive these days. How’d you even get one?” Your hand reaches out for the fruit, examining its tiny size. You’d heard about the sudden inflation of prices, so fruits inevitably turned into a luxury for most. Miles parts the mandarin and places the larger half on top of your hand.
“.. I stole one from my neighbor’s garden. God did say generous people prosper, so I did him a favor.”
“I’m pretty sure there was a ‘thou shall not steal’ in one of the commandments, Miles.” You laughed, plopping a piece atop your tongue. The tangy, sweet, yet sour flavor bursts right in, making you grimace ever so lightly. “Oh, that’s sour.”
Miles took after you, similarly cringing. “Eugh.”
“It’s probably not all that ripe yet. It’s fine though,” You plopped another into your mouth. “I like oranges— sour things as a whole. They snap me back into life.”
“That sounds sad.” He mumbled, turning to look at you. “Kinda worrying, if you ask me.”
“Well, I wasn’t asking.” You plucked out one of the seeds from your teeth.
“Right, ‘cause you never ask.” Miles took another bite. “You only answer.”
“What does that even mean?”
“I don’t know.” Miles shrugged. “I like saying random shit to tick you off.”
You rolled your eyes, trudging your way up from the floor as you staggered from the cold. “Thanks for the orange, Miles.” Running a hand through your hair, you looked out and sighed. He couldn’t help but feel surprised at the lack of your sass.
“You’re welcome, princesa.”
Your brow cringed. “Don’t call me that.”
His finger twitches. He watched as you froze for a moment, turning to look at him. With gentle steps, you approached and leaned down— tufts of your hair brushing against the temple of his forehead. At that moment, he swallows while taking in the scent of your perfume and its ridiculously sweet stench. How could everything about you be so sweet?
You plucked your pen out of his hands. “This is mine.” You reminded of him. Miles didn’t utter a single word til’ your eyes met. Even in the darkness, you saw, but you ignored— well, rather, you tried to ignore it, but it stung.
“I’ll see you tomorrow, then?”
Miles turned his head, forcibly pushing down the butterflies fluttering like haywire in his stomach.
Hands clammy, heart haywire, eyes unable to meet yours.
“Sure, whatever.”
That day ended there, but Miles knew then. He knew.
Eddie Brock couldn't look past the television store, as his eyes were drawn completely to the news. Not that he couldn't afford a paper, or a gadget of his own— he was simply nervous, figdety, and this ominous pit that holed itself into his stomach unnerved him like a pig carved up for the butcher. He'd known of the news already, honestly, something along the lines of the daily murders and crimes that weren't all too unusual to be fair, and rather than the screen's bright technicolored themes, he was hyper focused entirely on one thing.
The face of Will Barlowe, the almighty senator. Eddie had long been staring at that man's creased, brown skin and slick, blonde hair that was fading into this falsified shade of platinum all because of his whitening strands.
Damn the rich, all of them.
Eddie was no one, like everyone else. A drop of water in the ocean, a needle in a haystack. He was one, like the rest, with the hard workers who carried the economy with their white, blue, pink-collared jobs. He thrived, initially, three years ago. He was an activist then— a journalist in a crisp collared shirt and black dress pants, warning the young about the dangers of climate change, and speaking outwardly in regard to politics.
Now, he was nothing more but a wrinkled jacket-wearing, eccentric and amusing conspiracy theorist scraping the tiniest bits of his dignity to post videos on Facebook or Youtube shorts about how fucked up and dystopian America's grown to become.
When the Prowler, the younger one, decidedly linked him a location allegedly shared by the elites, Eddie wanted to think of it as a chance to shine, to end everything once and for all, and to avenge Anna. For Anna, and for what could’ve been their happy, serene life. But when he arrived, painstakingly clad in plaid while forging the identity of a lost tourist, he was disappointed entirely to find out that the warehouse had been burnt down.
He could still recall the charcoaled crevices of what could’ve been his salvation— that masked boy, the Prowler, promised him salvation in a what-could’ve-been some rich guy’s attempt of a house barbecue.
“Did I make ya wait long?”
A voice reminiscent of a growl. That same shade of neon magenta lingered, popping like a change of color in the melancholy of great Harlem. Eddie tries not to look, but the presence of the boy simmered like fire even as he hung like a spider from the ceiling. He was always like that— the Prowler. The boy was a tall, lanky thing who walked and talked suave. Dominican, he initially assumed. Eddie figured this little vigilante was likely a high schooler with hopes consequently dimmed by the recession.
“Nope.” Eddie attempted to appeal cooly, instead, he only crumbled more. “I’d been watching the news this whole time, tryna check if there was anything about the fire.”
He hears a metal click. “They prolly wouldn’t say nothin’. See, if they didn’t wanna hide it, it’d be all over the television. But it ain’t there, so that means the Chávez’s are hiding the fire from the other families. They prolly paid the witnesses to keep their mouths shut or bribed all the television networks to say it’s some barbecue party gone bad.”
A few passersby couldn’t help but squeak at the sight of the infamous vigilante hanging from a store sign, but they all seemed to know better than approaching him. Trouble was wherever he was, after all, or something the daily bugle said along those lines. They shared glances, sure. Curious, amused glances like how people would marvel at a lion in a zoo.
“It’s,” Eddie finally looked at him. “it’s something ‘bout the Chávez’s?”
With a momentary pause, the Prowler released his grip from the metal poles and dangled down for a second before decidedly letting his feet hit the ground. He was tall— truly, around an inch or two taller than grouchy Eddie. His braids seemed much longer than he’d last seen them. Did he recently get them redone?
“.. That’s right.” Prowler hummed. “.. But we might wanna move some place else to have this conversation, Mr. Brock.”
And where the cat went, curiosity followed down as it made its way to the dark alleyways.
Eddie had a million questions, like any other normal being. The Chávez’s, the Primos, the Barlowes, the Fisks, the Osborns, and all of the other wealthy families connected to one another were all listed down on his kill bill naturally, and he’d been dreaming about the day of crossing out their names with ink made from their blood. Cliché, but a threat either way. Eddie wasn’t a writer, but a journalist anyways. Creativity in terms of wording his hatred was limited and it wasn’t his forte.
“In your past facebook post, you mentioned the Chávez’s briefly,” The boy began, halting by the corner dampened by rain. “I need information about the whole family.”
“… Aren’t you supposed to know the basic information about your enemies?”
“If it were that easy, I wouldn’t be needing your help.” The two white shapes that proxied as his eyes narrowed, grimacing ever so lightly. “There’s little information about them in the black market, and within the scarcity, most of them aren’t factual.”
“They’re rich enough to be able to squander their wealth on silencing people,” Eddie kicked at a can. “Of course no one knows, but I do.”
“How so?”
Picking at something in between his cheek, Eddie sighed a long sigh.
“… My wife worked as their private attorney.”
He watched the boy take a step back. “.. Your wife?”
“Yeah.” Eddie nodded. “My wife, Anna. She was taught to keep silent about their crimes, and to find a loophole in every case.” A lump formed in his throat.
The Prowler stared. He couldn’t make out whether it was an empathetic or judgmental one. “.. So your wife covered up the Chávez’s crimes?”
“A part of it.” Eddie mumbled. “There’s more to the elite than we know, Anna had to burn her files after every case, so she couldn’t snitch or post them after she quits.”
His head turns. “… I see.”
He sees the boy shift, weirdly, fidgety. He couldn’t particularly describe the unease this young vigilante conveyed. It was almost like he was on the verge of asking something, but his mask made it harder to read what he was desperate to know about.
“.. So can you tell me?”
A simmering silence sunk into the gaps of their conversation.
“What’s in it for me?” Eddie asked, knowing he shouldn’t have, as it was obvious and painstakingly accusatory.
“Why do we have to have transactions when it comes to justice?”
Eddie paced. “Capitalism.”
“Fair point.” The Prowler sighed, rocking on the ends of his neon shoes. “Well, what d’ya want?”
Eddie thinks, and thinks. What could a conspiracy theorist— no, a journalist want? Could he ask for a man’s death? The head of Barlowe? The head of Chávez? Or could that only be achieved after this gamble? He looked at this boy, and Eddie pictured this teenager basking his hands in blood.
What would make him any different from the elites?
“… When you went to the warehouse, you guys.. Took evidence? Even a USB, right?”
He stared. “Yeah, we dug it up and we tried sending it to every news outlet we could find.. All of them rejected the information.”
“Why?” Eddie furrowed his brow. “Was the information incomplete? Did you send the evidence beneath a credible name as a source?”
“Credible name?”
“Yeah, if the information comes from a credible source, they might do something about it. Likewise, if the information is complete, they might take the risk, after all, the Chávez’s are old money, and they have a lot of influence in regard to politics. If they publish anything against them, without complete information, or if you’re just a bunch of trespassers regarded as criminals by the media,” Eddie held out a finger. “Someone will get shot.”
The boy swallowed.
“If not you, if not your partner, it’s the journalist. Always the journalist.”
And Eddie’s seen too much of his co-workers wound up as mere victims in a headline. ‘Journalist shot dead.’
And he didn’t want his name to be reduced to a John Doe in one of the many causes people are too afraid to fight for.
“… I’ll tell you all about the Chávez’s, if you give me the records you stole from the warehouse.”
The Prowler stood, seemingly caught up in his thoughts for a moment. “.. Okay, but I’m telling you, don’t make a large move without consulting me first.”
“I still want my head attached to my head, of course I’ll consult y’all first.” Eddie chuckled, his fingers pouring into his pockets. “Then, what do you want to know about the Chávez’s?”
Without missing a beat, he answered.
“You can give me all you got. Recent scandals, fuck ups.. Perhaps, you got anything from the collapse of the Aureum building three years ago?”
“The Aureum building,” Eddie echoed, reminiscing like a veteran released from war. “That was the messiest thing I’ve ever witnessed in the last ten years. The lawsuits, the bribes, and the social media mayhem—“
“The deaths.” Miles cringed, remembering his father. “Surely, that was the most fucked up thing.”
“Aside from the architecture? Sure.” Eddie pulled out a box of cigars from his pocket, wringing out a single stick. “Weak scaffolding, quick-dry cement.. Put two and two together, and everything collapsed as soon as the opening began.”
Miles wallowed, grimacing at the sight of the habit. “Could it have been planned?”
With a flick of his lighter, Eddie took one breath in and sighed. “Could? There’s no ‘could’, boy, it was planned.”
Planned? Planned by who?
Were the Chávez’s really masters at self-sabotage? Or were their enemies really just each other?
“You see, the Chávez’s specialize in human trafficking, slave trade, and child labor. The people they ship work tirelessly for other businesses without a fee— because we, you and I and the rest of us who had the freedom to earn education, refused to work under hellish circumstances and poor environments. Without us, precisely, without the poor, the rich are nothing.”
“Then the Aureum building?”
“The Aureum building was a cover-up for a bigger scandal.” Eddie tilted his head. “The people inside were likely witnesses, or people who knew about the human trafficking.. And when the building collapsed, they sued the construction companies involved, got the money, but damaged their reputation.. And I don’t see why they’d do all of that just to damage their reputation.”
Miles pondered and pondered.
“.. It was probably someone from inside the family who planned everything.”
“That’s what I think so too.” Eddie added, blowing off another puff of intoxicating smoke. “Someone who won’t suffer from the damaged reputation.. Yet someone who still manages to benefit from it all financially.”
“… Could it be.. Any one of the siblings?”
Eddie takes a step back, likely thinking about it. “.. Well, the other one’s in London, the other one’s too stupid, and the last’s a minor.”
“Minor?” Miles repeated. “How young are we talking?”
“.. Well, the last time I heard about the girl.. She was thirteen, and it’s been three years since then, so she’s probably fifteen to sixteen.”
It’s not as though a thirteen year old could possibly plan out such a meticulous plan… Well maybe, or maybe not, it’s not as though Miles was the only genius capable of great things.
“You know any of their names?”
“Names.” Eddie furrowed his brow. “The last girl’s protected by the law, since it’s illegal to paparazzi minors.. But the first two are Montrell and Anthony.”
Montrell. Mon. Three children. Two older brothers. One girl. Sixteen, sixteen years old just like you.
Miles swallowed.
It’s as though he could feel your hands blocking your vision, whispering sweet nothings into his ear.
He falters, alerting Eddie. “What’s wrong?”
“.. My head just hurts.” He mumbled, turning his head. “I think I kinda overworked myself. I still got a date.. Need to.. Rest.”
“Date?” Eddie blew. “That’s right. You’re quite famous, ain’t you?”
Miles rolled his eyes, able to freely express his distaste for the supposed compliment behind his mask. “I try not to be, don’t wanna make her think about it too much. The broad shoulders don’t help as much, though.”
“She know all ‘bout your..” With his cigarette squeezed between his ring, Eddie gestured at him. “Your little vigilante thing?”
Leaning his head against the brick wall, Miles crossed his arms and shrugged. “She better not. Don’t wanna make her daddy even madder.” He lowers his gaze a bit, his mask naturally zooming into the title of Eddie’s cigarette box. It was the same brand as your brother’s, likely a different flavor. Mint or something. Everyone around him smoked too much.
“She from the finer part of York or what?”
“The finest.” He recalls your brother’s luxury car. “.. But I think she’s tryna hide it.”
Eddie plucks the cigar out his teeth, a sort of accusatory yet mundane expression scribbled all over his scruffy face. Eventually, he laughs it off. “That’s all of what’s wrong with our society. The poor pretend to be rich and the rich pretend to be poor. They like romanticizing poverty but likely won’t be able to find comfort if they walked in our shoes for ‘bout a damn mile.”
“She ain’t nun like that.” Miles butted in. “She’s sweet, my girl. Cruel, sometimes, but that’s how ladies gotta be from time to time— seeing as how the world fucks them up every now and then.”
“.. That your first date?” Eddie asked.
“I guess. We’re kissing, but we got no label.”
Eddie scoffed an old man’s scoff. “Your generation’s got me fucked up. Y’all and your situationship bullshittery.”
“It ain’t like that.”
“It’s always like that.” Eddie narrowed his eyes. Miles similarly cringed, wondering how Eddie could be so bitter— having to remind himself seconds later that the man’s poor wife was dead. Dead as hell. As dead as his father. “If she can’t even be upfront about her wealth, she’s likely hiding something from you.”
“My man, I’m lucky she even looked my way. You know nun ‘bout her, don’t be like that.”
“And what if she’s from the oligarchy, huh?” Eddie exaggerated. “What if she’s a Fisk? A Barlowe? Hell, even worse, what if she’s a Chávez?”
Miles didn’t reply.
As the puff of smoke emanated through the damp air, suddenly, Miles pictured you holding a cigarette while grinning at him wickedly— and somehow, that tantalizing air.. Suited you like the slip of a glove.
“I’m just kidding w’ya, man.” Eddie laughed, flicking the cigarette away, crushing it with the sole of his wrinkled boot.
“Ain’t funny, Ed.” Miles grumbled. “People I loved died in Aureum.”
“But she’s still rich, though. You can never be too sure ‘bout the kind of secrets her family’s keeping. If push comes to shove, will you still be able to love her if you do find out that her family’s fucked up?”
“Stop it.” He angrily seethed. “Stop.”
Eddie watched with a certain stank in his eye.
“… Y’know, there’s a rumor that one of the Chávez kids are illegitimate.”
.. Miles left seconds after.
It’d not been his greatest day, and earnestly speaking, his gut’s been clamoring at him to listen, only for him to reject its pleas. He’d thought about listening— to whatever higher being was calling upon him to stray away from you.
His Mama told him to pray throughout his struggles. She’d not been a zealot, his mother. But she was no stranger to the novena, to pray and to call for help in such long days. He’d been subjected to it early on: the novenas, the masses, the lingering of frankincense in the air. Though she never truly coerced him to participate in the church, Miles simply titter-tottered throughout those dull Sunday evenings.
He didn’t want some higher being to stop him from becoming a horrible person; Miles wanted to be good on his own accord.
But you.. You made him question. Not you, but himself.
Though his dad always told him to question everything while he’s young, Miles couldn’t question you. How could ever question you?
An illegitimate child. Which one was it?
Your brothers, who had everything?
Or you, who had nothing?
And although Eddie left the alleyway unscathed, Miles felt that blood had stained his hands.
And you could still taste blood in your mouth.
You could still hear the crunch of that man’s neck echoing in your ears, his tiny pleads of self-preservation before the snap to his death. It rang and rang behind your eyes, between your ears, like a haunting melody you couldn’t help but repeat.
The memory of his fear merely energized your veins, but left you gawking in dauntness even as you worked your way through the hotel— showing Montrell the ropes and tending to the preparations for the upcoming charity event. The snap, the way it snapped— the way his neck snapped was a musical lyric that pulsed and pulsed in your mind.
Snap.
Snap.
ＳＮＡＰ.
The idea of fear intrigued you, cannibalism, however, not so much. The symbiote immensely argued with you, that it wasn’t your body in particular feasting on human flesh, but the symbiote itself. It needed to be fed, and it needed sustenance— but you didn’t know where else to find that sustenance.
“Miss?” Charlotte, the head housekeeper called out to you, snapping you back from the profanities of your mind.
Suddenly, you’re back staring at the new, tall, stained-glass windows— basking you in the glory of pale lights in shades of ethereal yellow and blue. It’s been under construction for quite a while now, but after your father had approved of the idea, you were willing to wait long enough to see its outcome. You’d only gotten the news just a few hours ago in regard to its completion, and now you’ve been staring at it for a while now.
“Yes?” You stifled airily, wallowing in a hundred emotions.
Charlotte bows her head for a moment, unveiling an approaching guest.
Before you could even process to question who it was, Montrell and his gentle eyes appeared before you. He seems to marvel at the windows before you as he takes another step up the stairs.
“Wow,” He huffed. “Is this.. Your design?”
You simply looked at the window with crossed arms and a smile. “I couldn’t forget about the windows when we went to Veronica’s wedding. I liked.. The colors and the drama it endowed.” You smiled, tucking a strand of your hair behind your ear. “.. This was my final project in the hotel.. I’ve done so much to rebrand everything, but we still can’t do much ‘bout what happened in the past.”
The lights dawned upon the both of you.
“Does it hold any special meaning?” He asks.
You shrugged. “It varies on the person, I guess. I think, those who don’t really know me will try to put meaning into all that I do, but those who really know me know that my art is plainly.. Meant for aesthetic.”
Montrell frowned. “How can you make art without passion?”
“.. You pick up a pen.” You carved a smile. “And you just draw.”
You draw, and you draw. Carved it in, like how a knife would pierce a sack of flesh. Murder the canvas with each stroke, and if they ask you ‘why?’, answer with ‘why not?’.
“I think.. Only Miles can place meaning in my art. After all, my passion resides in him.”
“Like a proxy.” Montrell darkly laughed, shaking his head. “.. I wonder how hard you’d break once you lose him.”
You turned your head to look at your brother’s charming face.
“Is that a threat?”
“A warning,” He remarked. “After all, how could he ever love you once he realizes that our family’s responsible for his father’s death?”
You turned your head back to the windows. “… I feel guilty, actually. I don’t really know how to approach Miles if he ever comes to realize my identity.”
“.. Don’t you feel lonely having to constantly push away the people you love?”
You shrugged. “I’m a pretty girl. Pretty girls are never lonely.”
“Sure.”
Montrell looked at you. To be precise, he eyed you, and he looked at the way you casted your eyes downward. From a mile away, one would believe you fostered insecurity and shame in the way you’d stare, but knowing you and the way you were, that downcast gaze of yours imbued disinterest and a heightened sense of.. Superiority.
No matter how hard you try to appear empathetic, you were always and inevitably still a Chávez. Even in the way you pursed your rouged lips, or spoke with eloquence, or held your head high.. You and your siblings, who were forged to become heartless from the beginning, were never bound to be kind.. Or good.
But could Miles do it?
Could he actually change you? Humanize you?
Make you kind and loving, and normal?
You tightened your grip over your arm. “I.. Was going to escape tonight, originally.. For our date. He wanted us to have a halloween date. It’s so dorky. He’s so dorky.” The way you fawned was genuine, though. He could see it so clearly. “But after daddy mentioned the USB, I didn’t know how to face him without feeling guilty.. I came to meet Miles with the intention of using him to get his dead dad’s stuff but I ended up.. Falling for him. I never knew I was capable of feeling like this.”
“.. When we’re too busy to survive, it feels frustrating to have to care for someone else. That’s why our family doesn’t feel like one.” Montrell whispered.
“We’re not a Greek tragedy.”
“Exactly, which would mean,” He turns to you. “You’re likely still savable, [N/n].”
You lightly winced. “.. I haven’t heard that nickname since I was twelve.”
Your brother chuckles at the reminder. “.. We called you that since you couldn’t pronounce your name when you were three.” Montrell heaved a long breath, as though he were a dreamer reminiscing the times. Ah, he truly is a sucker for what’s long gone, huh? “Antonne and I were so excited to have you. Your first word was my name, actually, Mon. I had to sneak up into your cradle every night just to make you practice say my name. Mama used to hold you in her arms whenever I got home from school, and she used to read out my cards with you in her other hands ‘cause you were one energetic kid.”
Oh, so like a normal family?
We were capable of having that this whole time?
…
“[Y/n]?”
You snapped yourself back to reality, Montrell’s voice leading you out of your internal monologue. “Did you hear my question?” He queried. “You kinda zoned out there.”
“Sorry, I was thinking ‘bout something. You were saying?”
“Once you get the USB.. Are you going to leave him?”
The question seemed far fetched from the previous topic, which caught you off-guard. You turn your head. “.. I don’t know. I’d rather make him hate me, and have him leave me first, because I don’t think I can ever bring it upon myself to leave him.”
Such a romantic.
“Do you think you can handle it?”
“.. It’s not a question of whether I can handle it, it’s a question of whether Miles can handle it.”
Montrell murmured. “.. What if he gets revenge?”
“Revenge?” You repeated, the idea sounding funnily dramatic. “Revenge on me? I didn’t throw that building over his father’s head.”
“Ah, yes, but there’s a thing called karma.” Montrell spoke as thought to remind you. “It’ll be out there to get you, or at least, that’s what I’ve heard.”
You couldn’t help but aimlessly ponder. “… Why do poor people believe in futile things such as karma?”
The way you worded it, and the way it exited your tongue seemed unusually natural. Montrell, who’s been too used to such words, only shrugged. “Cause there’s nothing else to save them. That’s why they have a god, [Y/n]. They can’t save themselves, and so that’s why they believe something otherworldly will.”
Before you could speak, Montrell looked out into the glass windows before turning to you.
“Speaking of which, I think you should use daffodils for the upcoming party.”
“.. Daffodils?” You repeated.
Your brother nods. “Yes. I find them to be quite lovely.”
Since when did he have an interest in flowers? You internally squirmed. “Where the hell am I going to get daffodils in autumn?” You groaned. “We can use other yellow flowers for the golden theme.”
“Well, you’re not in charge anymore.” Was his attempt of a tease. “Surely there are still daffodils here in this season. We’ll have to find the best greenhouse in town.”
“But why?”
“Because I said so.”
You sweetly casted a glance at him, smiling as a thought crowed at you.
A sharp pain shoots through Miles’ head. A pulsing, familiar pain— resembling a bullet, dove straight into his subconscious.
He stumbles back as darkness clouds his vision, a sort of slithering and slimy feeling coursing through his system like a snake seething beneath his skin. His heart was hammering against his chest. It was like that time during the warehouse, where he felt genuinely uneasy and unsettled. The eyes of that figure behind the window, watching him tremulously stare back.
In the cage of his mind, Miles finds himself inside a dark void— where the silence was loud enough to hear the sound of a pin drop.
Then there was this drumming.
Thump. Thump. Thump.
Thump. Thump. Thump.
The melody was unfamiliar, but the voice nostalgic. Miles crawled amidst the darkness, searching for the voice, only to look up and catch the sight of a pristine, delicately made shoe. It kicked against the front of a desk, making a rhythmic pattern. Thump. Thump. Thump. With each passing moment, his eyes continued to linger upward, from the shoe, to a leg, to a waist, to your pretty face.
You sat there, above the desk, with your pretty hair and your pretty eyes, puckering up your pretty lips along with the song. You were so idly calm, so leisure while singing so softly, he could hardly make out the words exiting your mouth. A dim, green light cascaded against the silhouette of your figure, further accentuating the pink of your lips and the darkening of your gaze.
You smiled, but your eyes held nothing. Like you never knew what kindness was, even in his presence. You never looked at him like that before— like you hated him enough that you wanted him to die.
Thump. Thump. Thump.
The thumping was growing faster and faster with each second. Upon seeing his struggle, a stifled laugh laces the lyrics.
Miles tried to move, but his whole body writhed in pain— like he was beaten, defeated. His arms itched in burns and scars. With the sound of your hum, Miles looks up, only to see you cross your arms before your chest, the tip of your shoe gently grazing against the skin of his temple. He feels as though he was being watched, idly, by an audience that had no interest at all in intervening. Like everyone was amused to see him.. Kneeling before you.
Click. Click. Click. The cutter clicked in your palm as the blade rose higher.
It’s like your presence alone was enough to blind him, and his conscience kept crawling back to you no matter how hard it tries to stray.
Really, who are you, [Y/n]?
Why was it whenever you lingered in his dreams, you were the cruelest person to exist?
And why was it that Miles knew that he’d probably still adore you with your hands around his neck?
“.. Miles?”
From a gentle shuffle, Miles awoke to the sound of his mother’s voice.
Miles jolted up, his skin half drenched with cold sweat. Unfortunately enough, his awakening was nothing avian. On the contrary, his awakening felt like a somber chore. The material clung onto him like glue, making him utter a groan. For a while, he helplessly looked around like a child lost between rows of linoleum aisles, his mind hopping from question to question. 'What just happened? What was I dreaming of?'
Like some hungover drunkard, he gently peeled himself away from the sweat-stained sheets and begrudgingly sat upright. Rio’s gentle hand cradled his aching head.
“Rest, mijo, you’re exhausted.”
“Mama, I—“ He broke, running a damp hand over his head. For a moment, he flinches, checking to see if his hands were covered in blood. “What happened?”
His mother’s dark curls lightly brushed against his temple. Her eyes were just as exhausted as he was, with dark circles rimming the doeness of her gaze. “I got home to you taking a nap but you kept squirming. I was so worried. Que paso?”
He looked around, realizing he’d dropped himself unconscious atop the sofa.
“.. Nightmare.”
Night terrors, to put it precisely. It’s been haunting him since the death of his father three years ago. He thought they’d long vanished after meeting you, but after his suspicions arose, his anxiety came crawling back like a dreadful stench.
Rio handed him a glass of water, to which he gulped down to its very last drop— like he’s been thirsting for all his life.
“Mama,” He called out. “… What do I do?”
His loving mother creased her brow, shaking her head. “What is it, mijo? What’s wrong?”
He runs his hand over his face, wondering how to begin. At that moment, Miles recalls your sweetest smiles, your loudest laughs, and your warmest hugs.
You held his hand, dragged him out of that maze, and you vandalized the hotel together. You tore yourself away from the expectations of your family, and went to him.
You chose him.
But could he go so far to assume that you loved him?
Rio shifted comfortably, trying to appear more welcoming to whatever catastrophe Miles was about to unleash. “What’s wrong, Miles?”
Miles couldn’t even admit it to himself, though he’d long noticed, he preferred to remain ignorant ‘til the truth was spilled from your own lips.. But he didn’t know how much longer he could last. Blood runs thicker than water, but both feel the same when your eyes are closed— and that could mean many things.
“A lot, ma.” He buried his head into his hands. “And Ionno if I could deal with it all.”
“You don’t have to deal with everything, Miles.” Rio frowned. “You’re only fifteen. Eres demasiado joven. Con el tiempo todo se arregla.”
“Me duele la cabeza.”
“Ponte vaporub.” Rio stood to grab the small, blue ointment. As she unscrews its green cap, Miles was immediately hit with its loud, minty scent. Digging her fingers into the substance, Rio smears the vaporub all over Miles’ forehead. “Sana sana colita de rana, si no sana hoy, sanará mañana.”
He lightly moved away with a sigh. “I’m not a kid anymore, ma.”
“I’m your mother, you’ll always be my kid.” As the cooling sensation sunk into his skin, he felt his mother’s palm cup his cheek. “And since you’re my kid, I always get worried about you. I know we ain’t got nothing much, but we got each other, Miles. You’re a great kid bound to achieve great things.”
He wasn’t too sure about that. That whole great kid thing. You had your fingers entangled all over his puppet strings, and it made him hesitate.
But what if that was exactly your plan? To ruin him entirely for your benefit?
“.. Ma, what would you do if the person you liked lied to you about their identity?”
Rio sat in silence.
“.. Que?”
Ah, fuck. That’s a stupid question.
“Nothing.” Miles turned his head. “Sorry, that was a stupid question—“
“No, Miles. I didn’t mean to— I just, you like someone? A girl?”
Miles shifted uncomfortably. Rio softened. “A boy?”
“No, ma!” He exclaimed, embarrassed. “I-It’s a girl. I like a girl.. Por los clavos de Cristo.”
“Oh, I was preparing myself.” Rio placed a hand over her heart. “Don’t get me wrong, I’d accept you no matter what, I just didn’t have a long wonderful speech prepared for it.. But what’s wrong with the girl?”
“Well, ma, it’s just..”
“Did she cheat on you!?”
“No! We’re not even together yet, ma. We were gonna have our first date today, but.. But her family’s been treating her horribly, and her older brother picked her up while we were out buying costumes for our halloween date only for him to directly tell me that it ain’t happening.”
“And then?”
“She talked ‘bout her dad throwing a fit, and now she hasn’t replied the whole day.” He slipped his fingers through his hair. “I even woke up at six in the morning just to get my braids redone at Tasha’s… And they invited me to a party at their house on Sunday.”
“Sunday? Then— that’s great!” Rio exclaimed, placing her hands over her son’s shoulders. “That would mean they’re open to getting to know you. Well, I think you can borrow some of your dad’s old clothes for the party, you two look great in suits anyway.”
“W-Well, ma, that ain’t entirely the problem, she’s..” He swallowed. “Ma, I think she comes from a very rich family.”
“Okay, and?” Rio raised a brow. “Did she ever make you feel inferior for having superior wealth?”
“.. No? Well, she’s been trying to keep it on the down low this whole time, but.. Whenever I see her, she acts so.. Proper and polite when she don’t even notice it. And her brother’s British too, and I— Ionno how the hell that happened, but he sound like the type to spit out tap water if I ever brought him to a restaurant.”
“Well, you’re dating the girl, Miles, not her brother.” Rio sighed. He thinks of it for a moment, then shrugs. Only then he notices his mother’s wide smile, her shoulder nearly glued onto his.
“So.. Who’s the girl?”
Miles fiddled awkwardly, unsure how to answer. Rio seemed adamant for an answer, so, after a while of internally mustering up sentences, Miles replied. “Her name.. [Y/n].”
“Mhm.”
“She uh.. Sixteen. I-I met her three months ago.. And we started doing graffiti together since then.”
“Oh, so she’s an artist?”
Miles gaped. “S… Sum like that, yeah.”
Your art varied. Your colors were blander while his, more vibrant. But there was something about the way you drew, that was so meaningfully realistic that it captured entirely how your mind pondered in its darkest moments. An art style that captured entirely the darkest of what life could bring.
He remembers going through your sketchpads, how your dabbles consisted of dull realism. Maybe it was only dull because it was exactly what New York’s become— cold and calloused.
But in contrast, you were able to set his world on fire in a way he’s never seen. Only you could paint over the dullness with scarlet, in a way that had him choking from the smoke emanating from your fire.
But he couldn’t tell his mother the way you’ve worsened him.
His mother wouldn’t let him get too close to someone as bright and dangerous as you.
“Why haven’t you mentioned about her before? I could’ve helped!” Rio tossed her dark curls to the side. They’d always reminded him of the dark sea. “Es puertorriqueña? Puede hablar español?”
“No,” Miles thinks about it for a minute. “I-Ionno, actually. She never told me anythin’ bout it, but she can’t speak Spanish so I ain’t sure.”
Rio attempted, no she really did try to attempt— to hide her disappointment. Were her grandkids bound to forever be free of her culture? How saddening.
“Pero creo que ella está estudiando español.”
“Oh?”
“Sí.” Mile seemed to lightened up. “She’s so cute. She can’t even pronounce ‘roja’.”
“But she’s trying.” Rio could not be any happier. “She’s trying! Eso es bueno! Ella ya me gusta. Not everyone tries these days, you know.”
He wondered if his mother was faking her enthusiasm just to ease him. He’d expected her to be more.. Angry about it.
“.. I’m surprised you’re not upset, ma.”
“Upset?” Rio furrowed her brows. “Miles, how could I get upset? You’re experiencing what every other teenager experiences, that’s great!.. I know you’ve been trying to act like an adult to help us, and you’ve given up so much just to keep us afloat. I’ve been getting worried that you’ve been focusing too much with adult responsibilities that you’re forgetting that you’re just a kid. You’re allowed to go around and be a kid. You’re allowed to like a girl— so long as she’s not a bad influence.”
Miles pushes back the thought of you being a smoker.
“She’s not a bad influence. She’s.. Just going through a lot.. She makes me happy, ma.”
Rio looked at him proudly. Only then, she wondered if her dearest husband ever brooded like this too upon realizing his feelings for her. She wondered if Jeff ever pouted the way Miles did, and looked out into the world with such admiration in his eyes as though he were shaping the void into an image of her.
Jeff loved, and thus, Miles could love too.
“If she makes you happy, then I’m happy.” She beamed. “So long as she’s not a brat or an alcoholic, or a racist, or any of those bad people, I’ll accept her.”
The mother shared a loving glimpse of her son, making out an image of her late husband in the way he smiled. Suddenly, she pats her lap and stands up. “Bueno, I’m making adobo.”
“I can help—“
“No, sit down, you’re tired.” Rio held out a finger. “Take a rest, Miles.”
“But Ma—“
“Rest.”
And he did.
Well, he tried. It was a subtle attempt. A poor one, at that. He sat upright by the sofa, listening to his mother chop up the potatoes. He tries to discreetly look into your messages, only to find you’ve finally texted back.
her ♡ || two minutes ago.
sorry i haven’t texted!! 😭😭
remember the party this sunday? my dad is making me help with the preparations so i couldn’t go to our date
i’m really sorry 🥺 don’t get mad
if you want, we can do it tomorrow.
Miles pouted. He didn’t want to reply immediately. He didn’t want to look desperate.
So he waited for another five minutes.
.. Even though you made him wait for six hours.
He switches the television on in attempt to distract himself from your message.
‘Last night, a horrific murder happened within Brooklyn, as the body of a beheaded man was discovered outside of a local bodega. Witnesses claim that an alien disguised as a teenage girl had ripped off, and eaten the man’s head.’
“The hell?” Miles burrowed his brows upon being greeted with the news on television. “An alien?”
He watches as the screen switches over towards one of the witnesses, a scruffy man with reddened eyes— evidently too lost in whatever he was taking to speak too calmly.
“.. They’re prolly high as hell.”
‘I’m ain’t even [censored] with y’all— some [censored] ripped off Kyle’s head— it was a horrific looking piece of [censored] made out of black goo or whatever the [censored]. The government’s [censored] making alien [censored]!
‘So far, there have been no records of the scene, as the cameras had been blacked out.’
“What the f—“ Miles grew mindful of his language upon realizing his mother was in the other room. “How the hell did that even happen!? Blacked out my ass.”
It was more or less, likely a murder related to the elites. One of their kids must’ve been hanging out with those junkies and killed a man for fun.
A phone begins to ring. Miles turns his head.
“Miles, can you get that for me?” He heard his mother, who was too busy chopping up something, call out.
He turns off the television, hops out of the sofa and heads straight into his mother’s room. As he flicks the light open, a king-sized bed greets him with its gray, large glory. He used to jump on that bed too much when he was a kid. Now, it looked.. Desolate, and almost deserted. With how large the bed was, he couldn’t help but ponder how lonely his mother must’ve felt, sleeping in a bed less warmer than three years ago.
Miles passes by the closet, and after foraging for a bit, he manages to find his mother’s phone atop a drawer— swiftly grabbing the gadget before turning to leave.
As he turns, his foot accidentally nudges against a box.
He peers through it, before kicking it away.
Making his way back to the kitchen, he hands the ringing phone over to his mother before curtly returning to the room to close the lights.
But as his hands reached out towards the switch, his eyes were drawn back to the sight of the box.
It looked like it’d been cast aside beside the closet.
Hearing his mother speak over the phone lightheartedly, something about something. Miles trudges towards the orange, cardboard box, kneeling by the floor with a single knee down on the wood. His hand curiously glazes over the top, feeling a pile of dust collect over his fingers.
Hesitantly, he takes off the lid, finding a familiar white, collared shirt. He pulls it up to the ceiling light and watches as it unfolds into a larger sheet.
This belonged to his father’s.
He looks right back into the box, finding a pair of black, dress pants neatly folded into a square. Meekly, he tugs on it, hoping he wouldn’t uncover anything sinister like a severed hand or an eyeball. After pulling the whole thing out, a longer line of black unravels.
A strange array of emotions lingered inside him.
Nostalgia. Wrath. Happiness.
It smelled like dust, and it was forever devoid of its owner’s scent and warmth.
“Miles, do you want juice?”
“Huh? Y-yeah.” He stammered. “Grape juice would be nice.”
His mother’s comment slips past his ears. For a moment, he pondered about wearing this to the Sunday party, but he couldn’t help but think how it likely wouldn’t fit him. His father was a giant, and he was quite lanky.
Upon hearing his mother’s footsteps, Miles hurriedly and clumsily attempts to refold the clothes, only then hearing a soft clatter. He pivots his head to the side.
There was a USB.
“For the florals, I think daffodils would be great.”
Your hands skimmed across the air in attempt of drafting an idea. From afar, you manage to earn a wider view of the banquet hall. Workers left and right helped with tidying up the refectory, scrubbing up windows and mopping up the floors. “It would match the golden theme, don’t you think?” You asked of Charlotte, who nodded wobbly with her dire age.
As of that moment, you’d been preparing for the layout of the party. As much as you didn’t want to listen to Montrell’s suggestion, you figured getting on his bad side would be a bad move.
The fundraiser, originally hosted by your aunt, was planned out to gather enough money to support Senator Barlowe’s projects. Your family was to auction off high-priced materials such as clothes, jewelry, paintings, and even estates for the sake of meeting the goal. Which would also mean that the highest of the elite would be attending the party.
And you were less than thrilled to be its co-host.
Charlotte marvels at your suggestion, taking it with a smile but a pique. “However, daffodils can’t usually be placed with other flowers, so I’ll have to make a special request to the florist to do the preparations extensively.”
You raised a brow. “Why can’t they be placed together with other flowers?”
One of the maids carrying a porcelain vase walk past you, making you gently remind her to put it aside.
Charlotte parts her palms. “They secrete toxins into the water. So whenever it’s placed among other flowers, the rest die.”
“Oh,” You widened your gaze, processing this newly found information. “How did you know that?”
Charlotte blinked, trying to think back. “.. Well, daffodils were used for your mother and father’s wedding. It was a struggle, since the day of the wedding, half of the bouquet had already wilted.”
You stood back in surprise, crossing your arms before your chest. “Mama must’ve been furious.”
Charlotte shook her head. “Your father plucked flowers out from the gardens and made her a bouquet himself.”
Wait. What? WHAT?
Wow, who knew your daddy was quite the romantic?
I’m just as shocked as every other person.
“M-My father?” You dumbly repeated. “My father plucked out the flowers himself? Or was it Mr. Nigel?”
“Your father, himself, Miss.” Charlotte laughed, finding your shock to be quite amusing. “He’s quite great at it too— flower arrangement. Your grandmother taught him from an early age.”
“My father truly arranged the bouquet for him and mama’s wedding?” You couldn’t believe your ears. “He has that sort of talent?”
“Why, of course!” She beamed a warm beam. “Like you, he used to oversee the interior of the hotel. He has great taste when it comes to color, and you’ve inherited that side of him.”
You tried to think about it, your father— who was now an old man with a permanent sneer on his wrinkled lip— arranging flowers in his youth, picking out pastel and cream curtains for the parties, and overseeing the menu. It didn’t seem like something he’d do, at all. Then again, your mother used to describe him in a way that made it tragic.
A good man, never a good father. Torn between yearning to be held in arms that never welcomed him and finding his worth beyond the standard of his own father.
You tried to sympathize with him. Your father.
Though he was who he was, he cared about you, in a twisted, fucked-up way. Your engagement with Richard Fisk was privately decided after the hotel went near-bankrupt had it not been for the Fisks and their mystical talent for cover-ups— and your father simply took most of your managing rights away just so the family you’d marry into wouldn’t use you for their own greed.
The fate wasn’t entirely horrible either. You’d marry into new money, sure, but their wealth would most definitely preserve the comfortable life you’re living right now.
It was your own greed that was worsening you.
Your desire to have a tantamount of power.
But what if you never needed it?
“Miss!”
What if all you needed was a peaceful life? Marry into the Fisks, host parties, and care no more about anything?
“Miss [Y/n]!”
.. But what about Miles?
He hadn’t answered any of your texts yet.
“Miss [Y/n], a call.” One of your secretaries came crashing through the doors with his phone. How you hated that word. Call. A signal of what would definitely exhaust you. Where was Montrell? Why weren’t they calling out for him? Were you really the only one able to handle all the messes in here? Workers left and right stopped as he trudged up the stairs, nearly tossing the phone over to you. You slip it close to your ear, making your way down with each click of your heel.
Charlotte watches as you listen to the caller with such intent. Silently, you eyed your surroundings before heading out.
As you reached the patio, you looked out into the dimming violet evening that was fading out along with the scarlet of the sun. The caller rambles on, something along about the recent incident.
“I’ve bribed the higher-ups to rush the investigation and to arrest the witnesses. We’ll release the story that they had murdered their friend after taking drugs.”
“Good.” You plucked out your vape from your pockets. “Report to me immediately once you find all the records about their families and their identities.”
“Understood.” You hear the sound of Morrison’s computer typing. Likely writing up a list. “I’ve also halted the investigation of the fire. I’ve told your father the information was tracked from an accidental leak after a delivery of the samples to one of the families had the address exposed. Sir Anthony will have to take up the blame since it was his idea.”
You took a long huff. “Good job. You did well.”
The smoke lingers, and you close your eyes.
Sorry, Antonne. You’ll live, I guess.
“Morrison,” You called out to him. “.. How’s Miles?”
The typing comes to a halt. For a moment, the two of you shared a moment of silence. You picture him pushing his glasses up higher off the bridge of his nose.
“.. I’ve spent most of my attention on other things, so I haven’t been able to check up on him yet.”
“Ah, is that so?” You mumbled. “Never mind then, just continue on with halting the investigation. I’ll take care of the rest, and remember, if any of the witnesses start describing my face—“
Clack.
You turned your head.
What was that?
ＳＯＭＥＯＮＥ‘Ｓ ＨＥＲＥ
No shit.
Beyond the gardens, the skies were beginning to dim. That familiar shade of magenta, it lingered like a ghost and it haunted you like your past. There was a click that set your mind off, and suddenly you couldn’t help but feel like the world was integrating itself into a technicolor, dotted comic.
Then and there, spying on you from the top of the six Corinthian columns of the garden, sat the young Prowler.
“Miss [Y/n]? You were saying?” Morrison pried from you.
You parted your phone from you ear, a side of your grin heightening into a catty smirk.
“… If any of them start describing my face, take care of it.”
Then and there, you ended the call with one light tap. You remained stubborn with your posture, seemingly amused and befuddled by it all while keeping your head high. The boy watched you curiously but stiffly, as if he were unsure of what to do. You were mutually frozen, but you couldn’t allow any sort of weakness to seep through the cracks of your confidence.
You took a step close, and he tenses. The sound of your heel clicking against the tiles sends an echo into the garden.
“To what do I owe the pleasure?” You greeted of him with sincere politeness, placing a hand over your hip. Was it an attempt to appear idle or what? “… It’s quite an honor to have you here as a guest.”
“Who are you?” The boy growled, voice delved baritones deep. “Really.”
You tilted your head.
“Who would you like me to be?”
His gauntlet unfolds, and suddenly, he launches himself at you, grabbing you by the neck.
[A/n: I PASSED MY FUCKING ENTRANCE EXAM GUYS]
#miles morales#42 miles morales#42 miles morales x reader#astv x you#miles morales x reader#miles morales x you#astv miles#astv x reader#astv x y/n#earth 42 miles x you#earth 42 prowler#earth 42 miles morales x female reader#earth 42 miles fluff#astv#earth 42 miles morales x reader#earth 42 miles x reader#miles morales prowler#miles morales x y/n#prowler miles#miles morales 1610#d
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proud (18+) pt 1
tags / cw: f!reader, angst, masturbation, asshole!simon
“I’m proud of you.”
You heard the phrase come from his lips in a dream. The two of you were on a mission, the minute details lost to the oblivion of your sleeping mind. What you had recalled was this; you and Ghost were fucked, and nowhere near the fun sense. Enemies everywhere and endless bullets. He got hit. Where? No clue. But, in typical dream fashion, you managed to get him out despite any and all logic and realism saying you couldn’t. At the extraction site, he had met your gaze and uttered those words: “I’m proud of you.”
And then you woke up, stupid fucking alarm blaring in your ears. You had debated getting some more sleep, but you needed a shower, your body rank from yesterday’s training that left you too exhausted for a nighttime rinse. You sighed and got in the shower. It had been a nice change of pace, your dream. Recently, they’ve been nothing but wet fantasies of your brooding lieutenant. You hated this little crush you were developing, knowing that nothing would result in it. Relationships were one thing, but hell, did the man even fuck?
Now you were aroused. Damn.
You cranked one out, rutting pathetically against your fingers in the shower before rushing the last of the washing. If fate was kind to you, you’d make it to training in time.
You did not.
“Christ, do you just ignore the shit I say?” Ghost snapped as you entered the training room. “Want you running laps, and I want to hear no complaints from your fuckin’ mouth.”
You sighed. “How many?”
“As many as I fuckin’ want. Get to it.”
Simon Riley was one difficult motherfucker to please. You lost count of the laps, which was a fool’s errand to begin with. You eventually found yourself falling to the floor, gasping for breath as your legs shook. Fuck, please don’t throw up in front of him. You didn’t catch what he said, your ears ringing and the blood pulsing in your head. But you did see his crossed arms drop to the sides of his body before shaking his head, and eventually leaving the training room. You felt like crying, but managed to hold in your tears… for now, anyway.
Days went by, then weeks. Training sucked. You couldn’t catch a fucking break. And then it happened.
You snapped.
“The fuck is your problem?!”
Ghost blinked, the only indication of his shock from your outburst, before his chocolate brown eyes narrowed at you. “Excuse me?”
“You heard me.” You seethed. “I never complain. I was late maybe twice, sure, but I do everything you ask me, and all I ever hear from you is bullshit about how awful I am!”
He got close to you, and part of you wondered ‘Shit, I shouldn’t have done that…’ but at the same time, your tolerance for his shit was dwindling. Superior or not, he was pushing your limits for his own sick pleasure. You were tired of the pain, the aching, the fucking lack of a single, monotoned ‘good job’. Was that too much to ask?
Fuck, and now you were crying in front of him.
“All I want is to make you proud!” You sobbed out.
He stared at you. The tears in your eyes prevented you from gauging if he was glaring at you, or watching with pity… or whatever the case may be. Regardless of what emotion his eyes held, you couldn’t meet his gaze, and you just cried pathetically, there in the middle of the training room.
He sighed and dismissed you without a sliver of emotion in his voice. You stormed like a child to your quarters and cried some more, falling asleep quickly due to exhaustion of all aspects; emotionally, mentally, physically.
[part one] [part two]
#simon riley#cod#call of duty#simon riley x reader#simon riley x you#ghost x reader#ghost x you#simon ghost riley x reader#simon ghost riley x you#my writing#part two comin soon k thx
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I.O.U (Eddie Munson x Reader)
Masterlist All Parts
Eddie Munson x Cheerleader/Popular! Reader (She/Her)
Warnings: Drinking, drugs, mentions of sex
Synopsis: Eddie spots Y/N at a house party and decides to say hi. This results in a night way more fun than he planned it out to be
Y/N notes: shorter than Eddie
Wanna be on the Eddie Munson tag list? Look here!
Wanna request something? Look here!
“Thanks for the weed, freak.” The basketball player spat as he snatched the little bag out of Eddie’s hand and walked back inside to the house party.
“Pleasure doing business with ya.” Eddie replied. He stuffed the money in the pocket of his ripped jeans. The popular kids were always worse when they were drunk, but they were also more likely to want to smoke.
The metal head leaned against the wall of the house, looking out at the dark street. He could hear the music blasting from the living room. They seemed to have a Madonna record on repeat and it was starting to get on Eddie’s nerves.
He heard the front door open and someone stumble down the front steps. They passed him and looked out at the road, unaware that Eddie was standing behind them on their left. It was Y/N.
Y/N L/N. Or as Eddie liked calling her, the nice cheerleader. The only one of those girls who didn’t look at him with complete disgust. The only one who said hi to him in the hallways. The only one who would probably have an actual conversation with him tonight.
“Y/N!” He called out to her. As she spun around he caught on that she was a little more than tipsy. “You okay?”
“Oh! Eddie! I didn’t know you were hereeeeee!” Her words were slightly slurred as she approached which made Eddie chuckle.
“I make the most profit at parties like this.” Y/N nodded in understanding. “So you okay?” He asked again, after not getting an answer the first time.
“I’m fine it’s just…” Y/N looked around again, confused. “Was there a car parked across the street earlier?”
“Uh yeah a group of girls got in and drove off like 20 mins ago.” Y/N sighed in frustration.
“Great. They were my ride home.” Eddie was surprised that Y/N’s friends would leave her alone at a party this late at night. She shook her head and turned to face the house again. “Whatever I’ll just ask someone to take me home later.”
“Uh my van’s parked around the corner if you need a lift.” Eddie suggested. Y/N smiled at him.
“Aww thanks Eddie, you’re so sweet.” He knew it was the alcohol talking but he couldn’t stop the smile appearing on his face. Y/N really was an adorable girl, drunk flattery or not. “You coming in?”
“The guys don’t really like if I go inside usually.’”Y/N grabbed his hand.
“Trust me. No one in that house is sober enough to notice you.” Eddie chuckled again and let her lead him in. Like she said, no one was sober enough to notice the new guest. Most of the party goers were in the living room, dancing to the music, drinks in their hands. Y/N led him through to the kitchen. She took two beers out of the fridge and handed one to him.
“Thanks.” Eddie said as Y/N hopped up to sit on the counter. That’s when he realised he was gonna have to talk a little louder for her to hear him. “So how come your friends left without you?”
“They’ve done it a couple times before.” Y/N pouted. Although it was comical, Eddie still felt bad for her.
“They sound like pretty shit friends to be honest.” He frowned. Y/N nodded in agreement.
“Yeah… but at least there’s one good thing that’s come out of that.” Y/N smiled as she leaned slightly closer to him.
“What?”
“If they didn’t leave, I wouldn’t have seen you!” She took another sip of her beer, not noticing how wide Eddie was smiling. Yeah the drink was affecting her choice of words but it was still Y/N. She still had that bubbly way of speaking like she did at school.
A jock walked in to grab another beer and spotted her on the counter.
“Y/N! We gonna fuck again tonight or what?” He shouted at her as two more jocks joined him, laughing. Eddie was ready to step in when Y/N opened her mouth.
“No I don’t feel like wasting another 30 mins of my life trying to find your dick before one more minute of nothing. If you wanna call that fucking go ahead but I’ve gotten more aroused seeing our school’s janitor clean the toilets.” The record finished just as Y/N started speaking, meaning that a lot more people heard her response. Her comeback was so quick it made Eddie think it might have been the truth for a moment. Who knows what she would have said if she was sober.
The jock glared at Y/N as he stormed out of the room, his two friends laughing at his expense behind him. Y/N’s smile quickly returned when she looked back at Eddie. “The thing guys forget about starting fake rumours is that you can put your own spin on it.”
“That was amazing.”
“Thanks! You kinda get a nak for it after the third time.” Eddie watched Y/N jump off of the counter, grab another beer and take his hand. “Let’s go somewhere quieter. I can barely hear you in here.”
He followed her up the stairs to the en suite bathroom. Eddie leaned against the tub as Y/N locked the door and hopped up on the counter again. She opened the bottle and took a sip.
“You sure you’re gonna be okay having another one?” Eddie asked. Y/N nodded, swallowing the beer.
“I know my limit. This is my last one.” Eddie nodded. “Hey Eddie?”
“Yeah?”
“Why do people call you Eddie the Freak?” Her head comically cocked to one side. Eddie’s eyebrows furrowed, a little confused at the question.
“Because I am a freak?” Y/N frowned deeply, eyebrows also furrowed.
“But you’re not!” She whined, pointing at him. “You just like metal and that complicated board game!”
“D&D.”
“Yeah exactly! Like what’s wrong with that?! You’re just having fun.” This girl really was something else. It sounded unheard of for a cheerleader to be self aware of the problematic school hierarchy. Yet here Y/N was, talking like she was one of the nerds at the bottom of the food chain.
“People don’t like different.” Eddie stated. “And I am very different.”
“That’s stupid.” Y/N mumbled. Her words half blocked by the beer bottle resting in her mouth. “High school is so stupid.”
“Yup.” Eddie agreed. He would never expect a cheerleader to say that but here one was. Calling the social system that worshipped her stupid.
“It’s literally not gonna matter when we graduate.” Y/N continued. “Do you think my interviewer for my dream job is gonna care how many friends I have? No!” Eddie chuckled at the passion in Y/N’s voice.
“You’re totally right L/N.”
“Hey Eddie?”
“Yeah?”
“You know you’re like… really cool, right?” Eddie found himself unable to speak. Y/N thinks he’s cool?
“M-Me?” Y/N nodded.
“Yeah cause you like, don’t give a fuck. About what anyone thinks of you. You just do what you want. You shout things during lunch, you grew your hair out and got tattoos, you do your D&D club! You’re so unapologetically yourself. It’s amazing.”
Eddie couldn’t believe what he was hearing. After years of being called a loser and a freak, one of the most popular girls at school was gushing about him. “And I don’t give a shit what my shitty friends think, you’re pretty! You’re SO pretty Eddie and I don’t think you even know it.”
Now he really was speechless. Y/N L/N just called him pretty. He stopped leaning on the tub and stood up straight, taking a step towards her.
“Y-You think… you think I’m pretty?” He asked, still not completely convinced he heard her properly.
“Yeahhhhh. I really do.” She smiled dreamily at him. “My friends don’t agree but fuck them. I think after told them, they started leaving me behind at parties.”
A twinge of guilt rushed through the metal head. He was the reason she started getting treated differently. And although it showed her that her friends weren’t good ones, she still probably suffered from a lot of casual bullying.
“I’m sorry your friends did that. It’s not right.”
“Thanks Eddie. You’re really sweet.” She placed a hand on Eddie’s chest. He chuckled.
“You said that already.”
“I did?”
“Yeah you did.” His eyes wandered down to her lips. He watched as she leaned in closer but he pulled away at the last second. “Nope. You’re still drunk. It’s not a good idea.”
“I guess you’re right. Thanks Eddie.” Y/N said as she jumped off of the counter.
“For what?” She wrapped her arms around him, burying her head in his Hellfire shirt.
“For not taking advantage of me.” She said, muffled by the fabric.
“I don’t think thanks are in order for that.” Eddie replied, but reciprocated the hug anyway. He waited a couple seconds before pulling away. “It’s getting late. You wanna go home?”
“Yeah okay.” Y/N replied, pulling away too. Eddie kept a soft grip on her hand and unlocked the bathroom door. The pair were surprised to find Jason sitting on the bed with a girl who wasn’t Chrissy. “Jason?”
“Y/N?” He stood up from the bed. “T-This isn’t what it looks like!”
“Uh huh.” Y/N replied, unconvinced. Jason pushed his focus to Eddie.
“Why the hell is he here? And what the fuck were you two doing in the bathroom?”
“We were just talking calm the fuck down.”
“Oh yeah sure. I’m sure that’s what everyone will believe when I tell them what I saw.”
“And what are they gonna believe when I tell them what I saw?” Jason shut up, knowing he was in deeper shit. “I haven’t forgotten that rumour you started in junior year about us. Start anything and I’ll tell the whole school that Eddie’s dick is four times the length of yours.”
Y/N and Eddie walked out as she yelled back. “And his dick is average!”
Eddie started laughing at how quick witted Y/N was with these. “Sorry if that was too much.”
“No not at all. Y/N you’re hilarious.” They walked out of the house and down the street to Eddie’s van. “Where to Ma’am?”
“Maple street. It’s not too far from here.” Eddie nodded as he started the van.
“Yeah I know it. The Wheeler girl lives there I think.” The drive was short and by the time they arrived, Y/N was starting to recover.
“I think I’m sobering up.” She stretched.
“Welcome back L/N.” Eddie joked as he closed the van door.
“Why’d you get out too?”
“I gotta walk you to your door.”
“Eddie it’s right there.” Y/N chuckled and pointed at her house right in front of them.
“Uh I said I’d get you home and I am a man of my word.” Y/N smiled as they walked up. “Or will your judgemental parents take one look at me and ground you for a month?” Y/N laughed and shook her head.
“My parents are on a business trip. They’re back on Tuesday.”
“You’re home alone?” Y/N nodded.
“Yup. Whoooole house with just me.” Y/N looked in Eddie’s eyes and saw he was thinking the same thing.
“How sober are you now?”
“Like… mostly sober?”
“But not completely?”
“Nnnnnnno.” Eddie sighed with a smile.
“Then this is where I must leave you m’lady.” Y/N smiled back.
“Who knew that the drug dealer would be the only decent guy at a party?” She quirked her head to the side, watching Eddie’s smile widen. Her head suddenly snapped back up right. “Wait here a sec.”
Eddie watched as she ran inside and came back a minute later with one of those cue cards for study notes. She handed it to him and he took it.
I.O.U
One kiss
To: Eddie Munson
From: Y/N L/N
This voucher is non refundable and non exchangeable. Expires never (but I’d like it if you used it sooner than later<3)
Eddie giggled to himself at the last line. “Thanks for tonight.” She said. “I had fun.”
“Me too.” He waved the voucher. “I’ll be sure to use this real soon.”
“Good. Goodnight Eddie.”
“Goodnight Y/N.” He watched her walk back inside and close the door behind her. He found himself skipping back to his van. Sitting back down, he looked at the voucher again, focusing on the little heart at the bottom. He flipped it over to find a phone number on the back.
Call this number for any queries or complaints (or just if you just feel like chatting some more<3)
Eddie found his smile growing even wider as he started his van and began to head home.
He had the sudden urge to make a complaint. But perhaps he’ll wait until tomorrow.
#eddie munson#eddie munson x reader#reader x Eddie Munson#stranger things x reader#stranger things season 4#stranger things season four#stranger things
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bro that teen pregnancy shit fucked me upppp 😭 I fr am in tears and rolling around my bed lol
my brain went on a tangent halfway thru the moms section I was like damn okay what if mc and cove just ran away huh then what
AND THEN I remembered they’ve already ran away before which is part of why mom is so worried about cove’s influence and hellooooo???? full circle moment 🫢 made myself gasp fr
ya u make me think so many thoughts on this one good lordddd
-🗑️
LOL AWW I DIDN'T THINK EVERYONE WOULD GET SO EMOTIONAL </3 AND LMAOOO I CAN'T BELIEVE YOU THOUGHT ABT RUNNING AWAY AGAIN, PLEASE IS THIS GONNA BE A TRADITION LOL
anyway, well good morning!!!! here's more angst n food for thought🤭🤭
tags : Angst / Hurt/Comfort, headcanons, fem/afab reader, pregnancy
[part 1: "everyone finding out cove and MC got engaged because they're pregnant"]
his whole world stops. his ears feel like they've been stuffed with cotton and his world is spinning outta control.
now lets assume the rubber broke, just for, simplicity n lore sake.
it's not that he wasn't already worried about this happening, he had been worrying about this for weeks since you realized what happened.
but even then, he already had the fear of god in him about this happening. both because his mom and dad were on him about safe sex, but also because he has a lot of feelings about being an accident n child to teen parents... and he really didn't want to recreate that situation or put feelings like that onto another life, another human with complex emotions and many many thoughts. a human and life he's responsible for.
it shocks him so much, because he's very worried about repeating of his childhood on his child, and his kid feeling the same way he did/does.
he already knows that either way, the babe will probably have mixed feelings on being a accident, and essentially being a bump in road of his young parents lives
but it's also everything he had been worrying about, finally coming to fruition.
even though he's very, very stressed and scared for your futures, he's long since decided to make it work. he really wants to make it work. he wants to do the best by you, and the babe. and he wants to give his kid what he didn't have.
but anyway...
you're very worried about dropping the news on him
and i bought you aren't surprised at how pale cove gets when you drop the news...
and if he's not sitting down already, he is now. (he might just faint, like forreal this time too from the looks of it...)
he's very emotional, and super nervous, but what scares you is that he's very quiet...
when he does speak though, his first question is "what're.. what are you gonna do?"
because before he gets too emotional, he wants to know what you want first. you're carrying the baby and you're the one who'd go through all the changes, and you're the one who has the most intense feelings and being pregnant makes your emotions n hormones even crazier and more intensified.
all that plus how young you two are? and all the plans you two had? yeah, it's a lot, and regardless of how he feels, he wants to do whatever you want and he'd understand if you decide not to keep it.
but if you say right then and there, you wanna keep it, cove says he'll take care of you, and the babe, comforts you and hugs you. then he says wants to get married..
or if you say you dont know... cove says you two will work through these emotions, and that no matter what, he'll take care of you, and the baby if you want it.
when you do eventually say you want to keep it, even if you say this a couple minutes after, or a few days after, cove comforts you again and promises you'll work through this, and that it'll be okay.
then he brings up getting married...
of course it's more emotional, and maybe even a bit romantic!
so imagine this, you're sitting on your bed, and you and cove are hugging each other, you're wrapped up in his arms and it's a great comfort.
you're both really emotional, and calming down after crying and having a moment.
cove pulls away, takes your hands in his and even with glassy, red eyes he has a determined expression. goes on about how much he loves you, and how much he treasures you, and that he's going to do his best for you, and take care of everything.
his speech probably draws you back to tears, even brings him to tears but he keeps going because he needs to tell you all this!!
"y/n... i want to marry you, i want us to be a family.. i know i don't have a ring and this isn't very romantic but.. will you marry me?"
doesn't matter if you say yes right away or if you ask him if he's sure he wants to get married, he reassures you he's not just doing this because he thinks it is what you and/or your or his family would want.
he wants to marry you anyway, why wait?
now about telling your parents.
regardless of if you have cove there while you tell them, or you do it alone, lets say cove finds out what your mom said about him being a bad influence.
i also think your moms are a bit icy with cove too, so even if he has to force out all the details of your conversation, he already knows your moms aren't happy
but to know your mom thought, maybe even thinks so still especially with the news, that he was/is a bad influence on you.
it makes him sad. because what if she, or even both your parents, thinks that cove is dragging your life down with marriage and a baby?
well, like i said in the first post, this totally opens up a new can of insecurities and doubts, and he kinda spirals into his own mind.
he even starts thinking about what if you regret marrying him, and/or having his baby. what if you decide you hate being a parent, or being married, or being a family all together?
what if this holds you back so much that you start to resent him. god he's so afraid of you resenting him.
and your moms being short with him doesn't make him feel better because now he just had a thought, what if your family hates him so much that they start talking to you about how much of a mess this is, and then you realize how they're right, and decide to leave him, or even worse, leave him and the baby?
it's all very irrational thoughts, and when he wakes up (after maybe 3 hours sleep), he realizes it is a bit.. ridiculous. just a bit. he knows you wouldn't abandon him so easily, and you certainly wouldn't be swayed by your family
but he also wouldn't blame you if you had, or have (now or in the future), any resentments. he just really wants it to work.
i think this is also the time when he realizes exactly how much his parents divorce fucked him up.
he very determined for you two to make it work as a family. not co-parents.
he wants to see his kid every day, he wants to see you everyday, he wants to celebrate every milestone as a family and he definitely doesn't want to fight with you like his parents did. and even more so doesn't want to make your kid hear or see all of it.
he doesn't wanna fight, and then you or him walk out for hours or days. doesn't wanna sleep in separate rooms, doesn't wanna sleep by the crib to comfort himself with the presence of his darling baby, or because you two fought, like his dad used to.
doesn't wanna have to explain why mommy* and daddy are fighting, or why they don't sleep in the same room, or why they aren't talking to each other, or why they aren't living together anymore.
definitely doesn't want to explain what divorce is and what that means for them.
(*just saying mommy for simplicity sake)
but he also doesn't want to repeat what his dad did, and take on all the burden by himself.
it's hard to find a balance too, because he's torn between working his ass off to provide and prove that he can do it, that you aren't making a mistake... and accepting help, or letting himself relax sometimes.
but i think wanting to be there for you during the pregnancy, forces him to leave his days more open.
of course he still works more than usual, but he also makes sure to carve out time to see you, and be there to comfort you or bring you food, flowers, or go on a date.
remember i mentioned therapy in the last post?
please encourage him to start it. because this is a very big transition in your lives, and you both want the best for yourselves and the baby, so lets do the work before they get here, okay?
fighting with his dad
now he definitely appreciates his parents concern, and their support and words of wisdom, all that stuff...
but when his dad says something like "you don't want to end up like me and your mom." or "you shouldn't mess up your future."
or even if he insistently tells cove, "think about your future! y/n's future!"
cove gets upset, just because does that mean his dad is projecting onto him, and telling him that they're fucking up just like he and mom did? or is he telling him that he's dragging your future and his into the mud?
either way, that's what makes him say something mean, just like i said in the last post:
cove would probably end up saying something (a bit) hurtful like "i would never end up like you and mom." , "i would never marry MC if i didn't know it'd work. unlike some people, i'm not gonna make my kid listen to us argue and then try to play happy family." , or "trust me, my kid won't end up with a childhood like mine." / "trust me, my marriage won't end up like yours."
he definitely hangs up the call or walks away from his dad immediately afterward, shaking with anger and anxiety. he's so stressed. and he's worked up.
after the argument, there's only 2 places cove could go at this moment. to you, or to work.
and if he's at work, he's distracted, but tries to focus on his job. he's still mad at his dad, and he already feels like crying. he really didn't need his dad to doubt him.
he gets it. he gets it, he really really does. but he feels so fragile, that he'd really appreciate a little faith.
now if he's with you, which he'd probably run to you after work anyway just so he doesn't have to face his dad yet. he's like a big baby
he's holding you, arms around your waist and his head on your stomach or lap, or you're laying on your side and he has his hand on your belly, as if he's waiting for the baby to reach for his hand through your tummy.
when he tells you what happened, and why he's so somber, please run your fingers through his hair and just listen to him for a bit... eventually he'll start rambling about all the things he's been holding onto, including his fears about you resenting him
it'll probably be a long talk, but once you reassure him that you wanna make it work too, and that you know cove will be a good dad (and vice versa), and that your moms don't hate him, they're just... upset. and worked up about the turn of events.
and you talk about his dad too, and the argument, you both realize it comes from a place of concern.
he doesn't wanna see you two try to be a family and fail. he doesn't want you to make mistakes he did while raising cove...
conclusion, it's a very fruitful conversation. and cove goes back home, teary eyed and a bit like a lost puppy, and that night he doesn't find his dad waiting for him (cliff tries to work as late as possible, both because he wanted to give cove some space, but also because he has a bad habit of avoiding situations... so when he does get home, he spends the night in his room)
of course they can't avoid each other forever, and the next day cove actually makes the effort to find his dad during his lunch break to apologize.
he said something really hurtful, that i don't think cove could live with if he didn't apologize.
his dad definitely laughs when cove mentions that you said that cove should try therapy, and even if you don't say that his dad should consider it too, cove does say to his dad that a family therapist sounds like a good idea.
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when time runs out, what comes after?
Available on Ao3
Pairing: Sebastian Sallow x f!MC; Ominis Gaunt x Anne Sallow
tags: one shot, you POV, post-Hogwarts life
word count: 6.9k
Warnings: 🔞 angst as fuck, use of profanities, smut, 18+ explicit sexual content, adult characters, mild fingering, grief sex?
Summary: Because time is like a relentless river that will eventually run its course. Yet, amidst the uncertainty of what lay ahead, you found solace in the knowledge that new beginnings awaited. And you can’t wait to start your new journey with Sebastian.
Notes: I was watching FB and somehow Queenie and Jacob reminded me of Ominis and Anne. Then it led me into thinking about what life could've been for our MC and it got me feeling sappy as fuck like????
Tbh idk what this is? but enjoy it, anyway.
As the sun dipped below the horizon, casting a warm, golden glow over the quaint hamlet of Feldcroft, the autumn breeze enveloped the village in a serene embrace. The sky was painted with hues of orange, pink, and purple as if nature itself was bidding farewell to the day in a grand display of colours.
Over the years after the quaint little village was free from the gruesome terror enacted by goblins and dark wizards, Feldcroft has beautifully regained its liveliness.
In the centre of it all, a lively marketplace had sprung up, illuminated by the soft glow of lanterns and fairy lights. Stallholders peddled their wares– handcrafted jewellery, knitted scarves, jars of homemade preserves– their voices mingling with the laughter and chatter of the crowd.
The place that Sebastian once called home now truly feels like home.
His childhood house is now occupied by Ominis and his sister Anne. His best friend had promised that when they graduated, he would stay with Anne and take care of her with whatever time she had left. That was three years ago, and they’ve been living together ever since. Meanwhile, you and Sebastian found purpose living in the city. Your careers are thriving and you found solace in each other's company, living in a little space you happily share.
After your triumph over Ranrok, you had managed to gradually learn how to wield your ancient magic to its potential. Although you’ve not truly mastered how to completely cure diseases or curses yet, you found a way to somehow ease it. And that’s what you’ve been doing for Anne. Your effort managed to give more years to her life, hoping one day you would eventually master your magic to cure her.
You and Sebastian would regularly visit Feldcroft to do your mending routine on Anne, and this weekend was one of the occasions.
The breeze enveloping the hamlet felt like a gentle caress as it danced through the narrow path you were sharing with Sebastian. You were returning home after a quick grocery trip to the marketplace, accompanied by your boyfriend, who gallantly carried the grocery bag with one arm while the other was wrapped around you.
When you entered the house, Ominis and Anne were seated at the dining table, already eagerly awaited for your arrival. Your brows furrowed at the sudden lively greeting from the couple, “What’s going on?”
“There’s something we’d like to share.” The grin on Anne’s face was suspicious yet delightful.
“Come, have a seat.” Ominis’ tone was rushing the both of you to do as he said.
You and Sebastian quickly exchanged glances, feeling just a tad worried at what the other two had in mind, before finally doing what Ominis had asked.
After Sebastian put aside the grocery bag on the table, Anne quickly grasped his brother’s hand with that grin that has yet to dissipate, “You guys are freaking me out. What’s going on?” Sebastian said.
“Okay, Ominis and I were talking and we’ve been thinking about this for quite some time now..” Anne began slowly, “We have decided that..”
“We want to get married..” Ominis quickly picked up on Anne’s sentence, tone filled with excitement.
“Oh my god!” You exclaimed, equally excited, “That's wonderful news.”
“..Tomorrow.” Anne completed the sentence that was apparently unfinished.
“What?” The tone of Sebastian’s voice dropped, “What do you mean tomorrow?”
“As in the day after today, Sebastian.” She clarified like Sebastian was a Flobberworm.
“Yes, I know what tomorrow means.” He was ticked off by the treatment, “But what– how– why so soon?”
“Why not?” Anne sounded disappointed that Sebastian wasn’t as excited.
“Are you pregnant?” Sebastian bluntly and inconsiderately shot his chance.
“What?!”
“Sebastian!”
“No, I am not!”
Sebastian's face winced at the overlapping aggravation that came out of everyone, “What? It’s a valid question.”
“You don’t think it’s a good idea?” The timbre in Anne’s voice made you feel bad for her.
“Of course, I think it’s a fantastic idea to get married.” He was quick to reassure her, trying not to sound lacking in spirit, "But don't you want more time to prepare for something like this?"
Anne sighed softly, her disappointment evident as she exchanged a glance with Ominis, who seemed equally deflated by Sebastian's response, "It's just.. we've been together for quite some time now." Anne began, her voice tinged with a hint of sadness. "And we don't want to wait any longer than we have to."
“And it’s not like we got a selection of family to invite.” Ominis added, “You guys are our family.”
Sebastian’s turned to you like he was looking for an extra pillar of certainty. And his expression softened with understanding dawning in his eyes when he was met with your supportive smile.
“I’m sorry,” He tightened his grip on his sister’s hands, “I didn’t mean to dampen your excitement. If this is what you both want, then I’m behind you one hundred percent.”
You nodded in agreement, "We're here for you, whatever you need. And if tomorrow is the day you want to have a wedding, then we'll make sure it's perfect."
Anne's face brightened at your words, gratitude shining in her eyes. "Thank you," she said softly, her voice filled with emotion.
“I can’t believe tomorrow you’re going to be Mr. and Mrs. Gaunt.” You're basically kicking and giggling at the thought of your two best friends finally sharing their names.
“Sallow.” Ominis corrected, “It’s going to be Mr. and Mrs. Sallow.”
Sebastian couldn’t help but smile ear-to-ear, “That sounds even better.”
Everyone seemed to be filled with joy at the decision. But you understood where Sebastian’s suspicion stemmed from. If they were so worried about waiting, why not three years ago? And if there wasn't any particular urgency, why does it have to be tomorrow?
While everyone was exchanging joyous hoots and gazes, your eyes met with Anne’s and you almost didn’t notice that tiny twinge of gloom behind the yawning grin on her face. But it was there, ever so subtle. The sight gave you a small discomfort but you didn’t want to ruin the mood.
So you pushed the thought aside and were ready to get on with the dinner you promised everyone you’d prepare. There’s no room for anything but delight when a celebration awaits everyone tomorrow.
-
Since the wedding practically only had an invitation for two, naturally, you became the maid of honour. Today your service and dedication were solely in the courtesy of Anne Sallow to make sure that you had everything perfectly prepared for her.
As the bride settled into the chair in front of the vanity, you stood behind her, ready to assist with her makeover. With gentle hands, you brushed through the thinned and fragile strands of her hair, feeling the delicate strands beneath your touch. Taking Anne's fragile hair into account, you opted for a gentle half-up, half-down that would be both elegant and comfortable. Soft tendrils framed her face, lending a touch of romance to the look without adding any unnecessary strain.
Once it was arranged to perfection you moved onto her makeup, selecting colours that would enhance her natural beauty without overpowering her delicate features. You couldn't help but notice the prominence of her cheekbones like a stark reminder of the weight loss she had endured. Her complexion, though still beautiful, lacked the healthy flush of vitality it once held.
While you were intently putting your best work into Anne, both of you shared jokes and stories to accompany the duty. She had a way of making even the most mundane moments feel effortless and joyful. Her laughter was infectious, and her ability to find humour in any situation never failed to lift my spirits. Despite everything she had endured, Anne's eyes still sparkled with a glimmer of mischief and resilience.
As you shared laughter and fond memories, Anne suddenly clutched her abdomen, her face contorted in pain. Your heart skipped a beat as you realised the source of her distress—it was the curse. With a surge of panic, you hurried to grab your wand and kneeled beside the chair where she was sitting. Anne attempted to contain the pain at first, her efforts were evident in the furrow of her brow and the tight grip of her hands on her abdomen. But soon, the intensity became too much to bear, and despite her best efforts, a soft yet pained groan escaped her lips.
You had one hand holding hers, allowing her to clutch into yours while your other hand began to work your wand, channelling your ancient magic to help her ease the pain. Your heart clenched at the sound of her agony and your hands trembled with fear.
“Hang in there, Anne..” Your voice provided soothing comfort. You could tell the magic was slowly doing its work as the grip on your hand loosened and Anne regained control of her breathing, “I’m here..”
You stayed by her side, hand never leaving hers like a silent comfort as the magic continued to work its healing touch. After Anne's strength gradually returned, she managed to open her eyes and gave you a knowing smile, “I’m alright now.. Thank you.”
You put down your wand so both of your hands can grasp into hers. Worry still settled over you. It was only yesterday since you did your mending on Anne. The effect would usually last her a month– or two even when she was doing so well. But for it to not even last twenty-four hours meant the curse was only getting stronger, and your magic was becoming futile.
“How long?” You began to ask. Your voice was soft but still laced with anguish.
Anne let out a heavy sigh before answering, “Almost six months now..” Her breathing was still a little bit unsteady, "I’ve noticed the effects have been getting shorter and shorter.”
“Oh, Anne.. why didn’t you tell me.” Your heart ached even more knowing she must have endured it on her own.
“I didn’t know how to.” She admitted.
As a deep sense of despair washed over you, you couldn't help but grasp the gravity of the circumstances. Meeting her gaze, you glimpsed a reflection of your own emotions mirrored in her eyes. While kneeling beside her, you took a moment to observe the woman before you, her faint smile betraying the anguish she must have been enduring.
How awful it must’ve been to pretend everything was fine while she was crumbling inside.
“Does Ominis know?”
She nodded, “Not long ago.” Anne didn’t have to say it, but now you understand the underlying reason for the impulse on the wedding, "I tried to hide it for a while, but that man knows me too well not to find out something was wrong."
"How are you feeling?" You gently asked like a fragile little petal that she was. There were layers of concern in your voice.
She hesitated for a moment like she was contemplating whether to share the truth, "Not so good." disappointment coloured both her expression and tone, “I knew it couldn’t cure me. But I truly thought it would still last me forever, you know.”
“I know..” Your thumb caressing the back of her hand, "I thought so, too."
She let out a heavy sigh, "Well, it was good while it lasted."
“Have you told Sebastian?"
"Not yet. Not today," she said, eyes glistening with unshed tears. "I just want to get married to the man that I love and pretend, at least for this day, that I am not withering."
You felt a surge of empathy for Anne. Despite her hardships, there was a quiet determination in her voice. She just wished to find joy amidst the challenges she faced.
"You don't have to pretend with us."
"I know that." She smiled softly, "But it makes me feel a little bit better. Just for today."
She lifted her trembling hand to gently stroke your hair. And when her eyes met yours, the sorrow that reigned over her eyes pierced through you, shattering your heart into a million pieces.
"You have no idea how grateful I am that Sebastian's questionable behaviour ended up being the thing that brought you two together.” You chuckled at her remarks, and the twitch in your eyes finally allowed the tears that had been so desperate to fall to cascade down your cheeks, "And I'm grateful to have found a sister in you."
At that moment, neither of you could hold back the tears any longer. The floodgates of emotion burst open, releasing a torrent of tears that had been held back. Amidst the overwhelming grief, there was also a profound sense of gratitude for the strength you had found in the brief but powerful bond you shared with her.
"You can fight this." You choked out, "Please.. Just a little bit more, Anne. I'm getting better with my magic. I think I'm almost there."
"No.." She shook her head, "I don't think I can wait anymore."
You nestled your head on her lap, finding solace in her gentle touch as she continued to stroke your hair. It felt as though she was the one offering comfort.
“Promise me.” She said softly, “That you’ll watch over them when I’m not around. Merlin knows what those boys will do without supervision.”
And once more, amidst the tears and sobs, a faint chuckle escaped from both of you. It was a moment of bittersweet release.
And when you lifted your head, you met Anne's gaze with a solemn nod, though your heart felt heavy with the weight of her request. "I promise," You vowed, "I won't go anywhere. But you have to know, Anne.. I could never replace you."
“You already have.” She reached out to wipe the tears that streamed down your cheeks, “When I'm gone, they’ll have no one but you in this world. You are their family– my family. You have to understand that you mean the world to all of us.”
You took a heavy, deep breath, trying to stifle the uncontrollable sobs threatening to consume you. But it was no use– each inhale and exhale only trembled more with emotion. The thought of Sebastian and Ominis losing Anne, the person they loved, filled you with crushing despair. You couldn't bear the idea of witnessing their pain, knowing that you held the power within you to help her, if only you knew how.
Everything felt agonisingly close yet impossibly out of reach, leaving you feeling utterly helpless in the face of Anne's impending fate.
You don't want to lose her.
"I wish we had more time."
“You gave us more time when we thought there was none left. You gave me a chance to live, to love Ominis, and Sebastian..." Her voice trembled from the emotion, "You have no idea how much joy you've brought back into his life. And you've given me the gift of witnessing that happiness.” She managed to put up a smile and you wished she didn’t. Pretending was no longer necessary, and you wanted her to feel free to express her true emotions, “You have given me a lifetime. And for that, I owe you everything.”
You reached out and pulled her into a tight hug, holding her close while trying to imprint every moment of this precious connection into your memory. This could be one of the few last hugs you'd be able to share with her, and you wanted to cherish every second of it.
"Alright, that's enough tears for now," she said gently, pulling away and wiping your tears. "You've got to save it for when I'm actually dead."
“Anne!” You protested at the inappropriate joke. Although you’ve got to admit there was a mix of amusement inside of you at her attempt to lighten the mood.
“I’m sorry.” A faint smile playing on her lips.
The both of you shared a final chuckle before you set to work on redoing Anne's makeup, realising that almost everything was ruined from the intense sobbing. But you didn't mind– in fact, you welcomed the opportunity to spend more time with her, cherishing every moment you had left together.
After you finished, you picked up your wand and cast a spell on Anne's clothing. In an instant, she was adorned in a stunning white dress, radiating an ethereal beauty that took your breath away.
You took a moment to cast the same spell on your own clothes, transforming them into attire more suitable for the event. You left Anne to rest inside and headed outside to begin setting up for the ceremony this evening.
Working your wand with precision, you crafted a beautiful yet intimate setting in the confines of their backyard. Despite the limited space, you conjured an enchanting atmosphere, transforming the modest surroundings into a magical haven fit for a wedding. The flowers bloomed in colourful bursts, intertwining with lush greenery to create a picturesque backdrop for the ceremony.
Despite the simplicity of the setup, every detail was carefully curated to evoke a sense of intimacy and romance, ensuring that Anne's special day would be nothing short of unforgettable.
While you were immersed in the enchanting setup, you were surprised by the sudden embrace that came behind you, “Hello, beautiful.” Unable to resist the exposed skin from your updo hair, he planted tender kisses along your neck. Sebastian is always such a tease.
With a soft smile, you leaned into his embrace, “I’m doing something here.” you teased, but still couldn't help but enjoy the affectionate gesture.
Sebastian chuckled then nuzzled his head into your neck. His warm breath sent shivers up and down your spine, "Anything I can help with?" he whispered in your ear. You could feel his strong arms wrapped around you, holding you close.
Just as you finished with your setup, you leaned back against his strong frame, feeling completely secure in his arms. "You can be here with me, holding me."
A comfortable silence settled between the two of you, taking in the intimate moment and the romantic decor. The scene before you stirred thoughts of your own future wedding, prompting a gentle curiosity about when that moment might come.
"How's Anne doing?" Sebastian's voice broke the silence, drawing your attention.
You turned to face him, a smile tugging at the corners of your lips as you loop your arm around his neck, drawing him closer. "Very happy," You replied softly, "She's ready."
“Ominis is, too.” There was a mix of joy and relief in his face,“I’m so glad they finally get to have their happy ending.”
His words hit you hard. Sebastian remained unaware of the true extent of Anne’s condition. Because the happy ending he thought she’s having isn’t as perfect as it seemed.
“Are you alright?” He noticed the change in your expression.
You nodded, masking the trouble brewing inside.
“Are you sure?” He persisted. His voice sounded more concerned this time.
You wanted to confide in him, but it didn't feel right. Anne deserved to share the news with her brother herself. "I just think it's a beautiful day for a wedding," you lied.
Sebastian smiled, leaning in to give you a sweet kiss on your lips, his affectionate gesture momentarily distracting you from the weight of the secret you carried.
-
As the ceremony finally commenced, you and Sebastian stood side by side, bathed in the glow of the evening sun. The gentle breeze carried the soft rustle of leaves and the sweet scent of wildflowers, adding to the serene ambience of the outdoor setting. In the distance, the rolling hills provided a breathtaking backdrop for the intimate gathering.
Anne, radiant in her flowing white dress, walked down the aisle with grace, her eyes sparkling with love and anticipation. Ominis stood at the altar, his expression a mixture of nerves and excitement as he awaited his bride.
The sound of their vows filled the air, heartfelt and sincere, weaving a tapestry of promises and dreams for the future.
It was time for them to exchange rings. And finally, as they shared their first kiss as husband and wife, the world seemed to stand still, capturing the beauty and magic of this momentous occasion. You and Sebastian watched with pride and happiness, your hearts overflowing with love for the newlyweds.
But the joyous atmosphere shattered in an instant as Anne fell to the ground, her agonising scream piercing the air. Shock and fear gripped everyone present as they rushed to her side. The curse had struck once again.
The pain seemed to be worse than before because Anne's consciousness began to fade. Ominis lifted and carried her inside while his face etched with fear and worry. You and Sebastian followed closely as Ominis gently laid his bride on the bed.
You quickly tended to her side and began using your magic to ease her pain once again while Ominis sat beside you, holding Anne’s hand tightly in his own.
Sebastian stood by, watching his sister fighting her pain, feeling utterly helpless. Her screams tore at his heart, shredding it into pieces.
He finally began to realise the true situation of Anne’s condition.
Unable to bear the sight any longer, he stormed out of the house, his breath ragged from the onslaught of negative emotions. He wandered aimlessly, searching for a space where he could calm himself down and gather his thoughts.
-
After tending to Anne's needs and ensuring she had something to eat to regain her strength, you realised that Sebastian had been conspicuously absent. Concerned, you stepped outside and immediately knew where to find him. Following the familiar path atop the hill that overlooked the hamlet, you remembered how Sebastian always loved this spot for its breathtaking view of the village below.
Upon reaching the hilltop, you were greeted by the sight of your lover, standing at the edge and gazing out over the village. The fading light of the setting sun casted a warm glow over the landscape.
Sebastian's shoulders were tense, his hands clenched into fists at his sides as he stared into the distance. You approached him quietly, the soft crunch of gravel beneath your shoes barely audible over the gentle rustle of leaves in the breeze.
You stood just a little bit behind him, giving him the space he needed to collect his thoughts. Despite the distance, you could feel the stress emanating from him.
"You knew, didn't you?" He finally said, breaking the silence. You expected something sharp and judgemental coming out of him, but there was none of it. His stare remained fixed in the distance.
You nodded even though he couldn't see it, "Just today."
"Did she tell you how long ago?"
You hesitated for a moment, "Six months."
Sebastian scoffed and his expression hardened, his eyes narrowing with a hint of anger. "Six fucking months," he muttered, "Why didn't she tell us sooner?"
You felt a pang of guilt at his tone, knowing that Anne's decision to keep her condition a secret had hurt him deeply, "I think she was trying to protect us."
He shook his head and his jaw clenched tightly. "Protect us?" he repeated, voice rising with emotion. "From what exactly? From the tremendous amount of pain we’re already living with every single day? We're her family, for Merlin’s sake, we should have been there for her."
You knew that Anne's silence had shaken him to the core, and the road ahead would be filled with challenges as they grappled with the consequences of her decision.
"I should’ve been there for her." The quiver of regret was evident this time, “How many times have we gone to visit her in the past six months? And not once did she mention anything. She pretended like she was alright.”
“That’s exactly why, Sebastian.” You replied gently, "She didn’t want to keep pretending. She just wanted to cherish the time she had left without constantly dwelling on her illness. By allowing her to live her life the way she wants to, we were already there for her."
“But she’s my sister.” His voice cracked with emotions.
“I know..” You murmured, feeling the weight of his pain.
Then, a single tear escaped from the corner of his eyes that was clearly betraying the emotions he struggled to contain. He instinctively turned his head, his hand moving swiftly to brush away the tear.
You wanted to give him space to be in his own vulnerability, so you stood in place.
“To think of the fact that she decided to endure it on her own..” There was so much guilt in his voice. Then he fell quiet for a moment before continuing, “It's funny, isn't it? How time seems to slip through our fingers, no matter how tightly we try to hold on."
You listened in silence, feeling the weight of his words settle over you like a heavy blanket. The realisation that time was finite– that eventually, it would run out.
"We spend our days chasing after hope, trying to cure Anne," Sebastian continued, his voice tinged with a hint of sadness. "But the truth is, time waits for no one. Even for those who possess magic, it marches on, indifferent to our hopes and desires."
It was the first time you’d seen Sebastian being this vulnerable. It only showed how much love he carried for his sister.
"And when it's gone," Sebastian murmured, his voice barely above a whisper, "all we're left with are the memories of what could have been– what I could’ve done for Anne.” His tone carried a sense of despair and it unsettled you deeply. It felt as though the fierce determination of a man who would move mountains to save his sister had been extinguished.
"I just wish I had done more for her," He admitted.
“Hey,” Closing the distance, you gently lifted his chin, urging him to meet your gaze with compassion while his eyes were shimmering with tears, "You've been there for her in more ways than you realise. And she knows that.” His tears flowed more freely at your comforting words. Without hesitation, you cupped his cheeks and brushed away the tears, “She’s made her choice, Sebastian. The most important thing now is to cherish the time we have left with her and make every moment count. Because you can’t go back in time, it only runs out."
As harsh as reality was, Sebastian knew you were telling him what he needed to hear. Because if you don’t make the most of your time, the only thing that will remain is regret.
“I can’t promise you that it will be easy," you continued. "But I can promise you that I'll be here every step of the way."
He closed his eyes, leaning into your touch as if seeking refuge in your warmth. Taking your hand, he pressed a tender kiss to your palm before meeting your gaze, "I don't know what I'd do without you." He whispered,
"You won't have to find out." You replied with a reassuring smile.
Sebastian's eyes held yours, filled with gratitude and a hint of vulnerability. In that shared moment, you both understood the depth of your connection and the support you offered each other.
Then he pulled you into a tight embrace and you yielded to his warmth, feeling the comforting strength of his arms around you. Resting your head against his chest, you listened to the steady rhythm of his heartbeat, a reassuring cadence amidst the uncertainty that surrounded you.
He fell quiet for a moment. Stroking your hair with one hand while the other rubs your back with comfort.
“Thank you.” He finally said.
“What for?”
“Everything.” He whispered as he reflected on how different things could have been for Anne, and how her current happiness was beyond anything he had dared to hope for. “If you asked me five years ago what life would be like for Anne today, I’d say she’d be long gone and buried deep in the ground. I never thought I’d see her get married. This is all happening because of you.”
“You know I would do anything for Anne.” You replied softly.
He pulled away to meet your gaze, “And I would do anything for you.”
There was something special about the way he looked at you, the way his dark eyes were captivated by yours. The warmth of his embrace and the tenderness in his touch made you feel cherished in that moment.
It felt like the world had faded away, leaving just the two of you in a bubble of intimacy. Everything else ceased to exist as you were enveloped by his presence, captivated by the depth of his gaze and the warmth of his embrace.
Sebastian drew nearer, his eyes locking onto yours with intensity. His hand trailed through your hair, tenderly caressing your cheek as he leaned in closer. The sensation of his chest against yours sent your heart into a flurry of anticipation.
It was kind of funny to you, how this man could still make your heart flutter in the most exciting ways ever even after sharing hundreds of kisses.
Right before his lips touched yours, he paused, looking at you intently. The intimacy grew with each passing second as he leaned closer until finally connecting his lips to yours.
Sebastian's touch was sensual, yet tender. There was a delicate balance of passion and tenderness in his kiss. His lips felt warm and inviting, like the gentle warmth of a summer in the middle of the cold autumn breeze.
The kiss deepened and the intensity rose with every passing second. Lost in the kiss, you could feel all the worries and stresses of life wash away– like maybe Anne wasn’t dying, or Ominis wasn’t about to face his worst heartbreak, and Sebastian wasn’t going to lose his sister, and all that was left was the warmth of his touch.
As the weight of everything going on amplified the intensity of your emotions, it also seemed to intensify your desire, heightening every sensation, every touch, every whisper of longing. It was as if the urgency of the moment fueled the fire burning between you and Sebastian.
You didn’t want this to end. You wished you could live in whatever intoxicating illusion this feeling was.
The kiss went on and Sebastian tightened his grip, pulling you closer to him. The sensation of his lips and the heat of his body pressed up against you had your mind spinning. Every touch of his lips on yours was more arousing than the last.
The heat was becoming too intense, and you wanted more.
Sebastian continued to explore your body with his hands, grazing his fingers along your curves. He moved his hands upwards towards your chest and your breath hitched at his touch.
Despite the lust that was slowly eating away your rational thinking, deep inside, in the back of your mind, you had a sudden realisation. Sebastian’s griefing and this felt like an unhealthy outlet. The guilt weighed on your mind but the brunette began trying to unzip your dress.
“Sebastian..” You pulled away and whispered breathlessly against his lips, “You’re grieving.”
He shook his head, “I want you..” He put trails of kisses along your jaw and neck, making everything even more irresistible.
You bit your lip. “Not like this.”
“Please..” He whispered in your ear and you couldn’t hold the soft moan that escaped your lips.
The sensation of Sebastian's kisses sent shivers down your spine, his breath hot on your skin. You tried your best to resist him, but it was becoming too much to bear. And when his hand slid under your dress and touched your heat, temptation took over you and your body yielded under his touch.
“Fuck.. Sebastian.”
"I know you want me, too," He whispered. Your body betrayed your words as you grew wetter with desire. The sensation of his touch on your clit, using your own fluids as a lubricant, sent waves of pleasure through you. At that moment, you no longer wanted him to stop.
Your body responded instinctively to Sebastian's touch. Your back arched into his hand as pleasure washed over you and your hips rolled around to the movement of his finger. Giving in to the pleasure, your eyelids fluttered shut and your head fell backwards.
As Sebastian kissed your collarbone, your dress slipped off your shoulder, exposing more of your skin and eventually revealing your breasts.
Sebastian groaned softly at the sight before him, unable to resist the temptation of your hardened nipple. With eager anticipation, he lowered his lips to take it into his mouth, his fingers continuing their skilful movements. The combination of his touch and his lips against your skin sent your senses reeling.
Your moans were like music to his ears. With each gasp and whimper that escaped your lips, his craving only intensified, driving him to seek out more ways to please you, “Oh darling, I can’t take it anymore.”
He pulled away, allowing your dress to fall to your feet with a soft rustle of fabric. With gentle yet firm hands, he lifted you, then carefully guided you to lie down on the ground beneath you.
As you lay there, the cool earth beneath you provided a stark contrast to the heat of your desire. You watched Sebastian undress himself, his muscles rippling beneath his skin with every movement. With each article of clothing he shed, your anticipation grew, knowing that soon you would be able to feel his warmth inside of you.
When his thick, hard cock came into view, your hand instinctively reached out to touch it, but Sebastian was quick to grab your wrist and pin it above your head. Leaning in close, his hot breath washed over your skin. While his cock, wet with precum, brushed against your stomach. "So eager now, aren’t we?" he whispered huskily.
“Just fuck me already,” you begged so desperately wanting to feel him inside of you.
Sebastian's lips curled into a wicked smile at your boldness. You didn’t have to tell him twice.
With a low growl, he released your wrist and positioned himself between your thighs and without a word, he entered you slowly, savouring every inch of the delicious friction between your bodies. His hand slipped under your thigh and pushed your knee so he could gain better access into your depths.
And just as he expected, the position allowed his length to slide inside you so gracefully deep. As he settled fully inside you, a groan of pleasure escaped his lips.
He began to move and each thrust sent waves of pleasure coursing through you, you surrendered completely to the ecstasy of the moment, lost in the rhythm of Sebastian pumping you, “Ah.. fuck– yes..”
Your moans echoed through the silent night, mingling with the rustling leaves and whistling wind. The sounds of nature seemed to fade into the background and were replaced by the sound of your lusts.
His movement was slow but he hit you deep and right exactly where you wanted him to be. You clenched hard around his cock and it sent him frantic, “You feel.. so damn good..”
Your hand gripped his toned arms, your back arched, and your head leaned back in ecstasy. Without missing a beat of his thrusts, Sebastian seized the opportunity to lavish on your bare skin, trailing kisses along your neck and collarbone.
Then, he took the moment to give your bouncing breasts some attention, taking one in his mouth and sucking it gently. And by Merlin’s beard, this man knew how to multitask.
You spread your legs wide and angled your hips, meeting each of Sebastian's deep thrusts with equal fervour. When his rhythm intensified, the nails of your hand dug into his arm and it elicited a sharp intake of breath that came out of him.
With each thrust, you felt a different kind of connection with Sebastian, a deeper sense of intimacy. It was as if every movement, every caress, carried the weight of the world and the depth of your emotions. This felt more than just physical pleasure– it felt like a shared understanding of the fleeting nature of time and the preciousness of the moments you shared together.
Sebastian brushed aside the strands of hair that obscured your face, his gaze penetrating, filled with a tumult of emotions—lust, grief, love, all swirling together. At that moment, when his eyes locked with yours, you felt the depth of his presence. The way he looked at you, the way he felt inside of you, it was overwhelming– it was so, so good it made you want to cry.
Your legs wrapped around his hips, urging him to delve deeper. Sebastian's deep, husky voice filled the air with a moan, your name escaping his lips in a desperate plea for more, “I.. I love you..” He declared breathlessly, his words laden with raw emotion, “I love you.. so much..”
“I love you too..” You cupped his cheek, pressing your foreheads together, “I-im so.. so close..”
He tightened his embrace around you, his thrusts becoming more urgent as he chased his own climax. With a fervent kiss, he whispered against your lips, "Come with me, darling.”
The intensity built and you felt the tension coil within you, ready to unravel at any moment. And then, as if on cue, you felt it—the wave of pleasure crashing over you. Your body tensed, every nerve ending alive with sensation as cries of ecstasy escaped your lips, filling the air with the sweet sound of your orgasm, “oh fuck– Sebastian!”
With a guttural groan, he cried out your name and reached his peak, his body shuddering with release as he spilled inside of you.
Sebastian collapsed against you, his chest heaving in an attempt to catch his breath. You wrapped your arms around him, basking in the afterglow of your moment.
He kissed the line of your shoulders, then your cheek, and eventually your lips.
As he pulled back slightly, he took a moment to stare at your face, his eyes filled with all of the emotions that were left, like he was trying to memorise every detail, every curve, every expression– he never wanted to forget this moment.
“You’re so beautiful.” He said with a smile that reminded you of all the reasons you fell for him.
“Oh, shut up.” You kissed him to mask the way your cheeks flushed red.
When you both pulled away from the kiss, you found yourselves lingering in the intimacy of the moment. Your noses brushed together softly, eliciting a gentle smile from both of you. Sebastian's fingers traced the contours of your jaw with delicate precision, his touch telling you how much he loves you.
You reciprocated by running your fingers through his hair, feeling the silky strands intertwine with your touch. The closeness between you felt electric.
“Marry me.” He suddenly said and your loving gaze swapped into confusion in an instant.
“What?”
“Marry me.” He repeated, “Today, tomorrow, next week– I don’t care.”
Sebastian's sudden proposal left you speechless as his words sank in slowly. His eyes bore into yours and you searched it for any hint of uncertainty. You know he’s grieving, and this could be just that. “Sebastian..”
“This is not grief talking or merely an after-sex impulse.” He assured you as if he could read your mind, “This is something that I’ve been thinking about for some time. With everything that’s been going on with Anne, don’t you think it’s telling us something?”
He was begging for your consideration, wanting you to believe that he meant every word.
“Cherish every moment we have left, you said.” He stroked your hair with a touch so gentle it felt so tender and reassuring, “You gave me a life to live. And I want to spend the rest of my time loving you.”
You took a deep breath, trying to gather your thoughts amidst the chaotic feelings swirling inside you. Sebastian's proposal was unexpected, but you know it felt right. There was something about his sincerity that was hard to deny.
"Do you really mean it?" You whispered.
"Yes." He brushed a loose strand of hair from your face, his hand lingering by your cheek. "I mean it with all my heart. I want to marry you."
A smile painted across your face, your lips curling into a wide grin. Without any inhibitions, you pulled him into a kiss, expressing your love and acceptance through the tender gesture. The passion ignited once again.
You lost yourself in the intimacy of the moment, wrapped in Sebastian's firm grasp, letting your mind and body surrender to the joy.
Sebastian quickly pulled away, eyes flickered with anticipation when he realised you hadn’t really given your answer, “Wait, is that a yes?”
A playful glint danced in your eyes as you nodded, a grin spreading across your face. “Of course, it’s a yes.”
Sebastian's face lit up with a radiant smile, relief washing over him as leaned in to resume the kiss.
Because time is like a relentless river that will eventually run its course. Yet, amidst the uncertainty of what lay ahead, you found solace in the knowledge that new beginnings awaited. And you can’t wait to start your new journey with Sebastian.
#hogwarts legacy fanfic#hogwarts legacy mc#sebastian sallow fic#sebastian sallow#ominis gaunt#hogwarts legacy fandom#sebastian sallow fanfiction#sebastian sallow x mc#sebastian sallow smut#sebastian sallow x reader
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Together Again | JJK *part 2*
Pairings: Jungkook/Reader
Genre: Mature themes. Romance. Angst. Arranged marriage AU. Childhood best friends to lovers AU.
Warnings: cheating, reader is a rope bunny (ALLEGEDLY), hard!dom JK, switch!reader, reader likes to be slutted out, drunken sex, unplanned pregnancy(this is in the end dw😅), cunnilingus, oral (both receiving), fighting (talk shit get hit) daddy!kink, praise!kink, dirty talk, spanking, hair pulling. Just all around nasty y’all.
Summary: After reader finds her long-term boyfriend in bed with their mutual friend. She moves back into her family home, but under one condition. She has to marry her childhood friend that has been arranged since their childhood. For a wedding gift they go to a mountainous getaway with a group of friends, reader is told that ex and mutual friend get invited, so reader and jk decide to pretend not to know each other to avoid any confusion or miscommunication.
Authors note: Heyyy~ how are you? Welcome back. I’m going to try to release once a day idk yet still trying to figure this app out 😭 I sound old asf bruh but we gone get through it lol. Anyways ENJOY BB🤍
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‘ Oh these bitches got me all the way fucked up’
“well I guess we could go back home for a while. Right my lovelies?” You ask your two afghan hounds, Cleo and Benji. You two babies you’d be damned if you’d let that piece of shit keep them. He can’t even keep himself.
As you drive home you think about what you’re going to say to you parents. You know they’re gonna be upset you left in the first place for someone who had ‘unknown origins’ but you never saw it that way. You really did love him, but you weren’t going to cry over a man. That just wasn’t in you. What would your mother say? You’d rather not think about what you father would say
when you pull up to the security gate the guard is surprised to see you, but none the less let’s you in and quickly gets in the phone. Most likely to tell your parents you were coming up no doubt. “Nothings changed,” you say to yourself as you drive through the landscape up to the manor. As you pull up to the mansion you see you mother running out to great you. “My baby! You’re home! I’ve missed you so much.” Your mother exclaimed as she kisses you all over your face. “Hey mama,” you laugh. “Where’s Dad?” You ask following her into the house. “Oh he’s up int the drawing room right now, he has a guess at the moment. Maybe it’s someone you might remember.” She says smirking to herself. “ I know that look mummy, who’s here?” “An old friends is all I’m going to say,” your mother had a cheeky look on her face when she said that. “Oh you’re up to something weird,” you say to her but ultimately you let it go.
“So are you going to tell you why you’ve come here all of a sudden after no contact for 5 years?” Your mother presses. “I doubt you don’t already know, I know you and daddy have been keeping tags on me since I left.” You answer her as she gives you an innocent face. “I do but I’d like to hear the story from you.” Your mother has been keeping tabs on you since you left, so she definitely knows the whole story. So you tell her everything. What they did and everything they’ve said about you. “Well good thing you didn’t have to deal with trivial matters like that anymore,” she says rolling her eyes at the thought of you ex. “What does that mean momma?” You ask catching the double meaning in her words. “It means you will have a chance to make things right for you and the family reputation.you know what we had to go though and cover up once you left.” She tells you low key reprimanding you at the same time.
*sigh* ”okay momma I’ll do whatever it takes to go back to being the head of the family, and kill those pieces of shit classily.” You tell your mom smirking. Your mom laughs at you change of mood, and leads you to the drawing room where you father is. You hear voices on the other side of the doors besides your fathers. Your mother open the door excited to show your father that you’re back home. When she does you dad looks like he expected to see you on the other side, while he looks at you but you’re focused on the man sitting across from him. “Jungkook,” You breathe out. “Hey y/n long no see,” he says with a breath taking smile. “ welcome home y/n we were actually just talking about you. Before we can accept you back we have one condition.” Your father explains to you. “And what is that daddy?” You ask already having an idea as you continue ti stare at Jungkook. Amazed at how much more mature he’s gotten.
“You have to agree to our previous arrangement, and marry Jungkook.” You father says not wasting anytime. Well at least he welcomed you back. You’d expected him to not speak to acknowledge your existence while you were there. “Okay. I’ll do it.” You rempli to your father watching him stand and make his way over to you. You weren’t expecting him to hug you, but he does. It’s the most loving hug you’ve ever received from you father. ”I’ve missed you babydoll,” he whispers kissing your forehead. “I’ve missed you too daddy,” you say hugging him back trying not to cry.
After a while your mother steps in “I’d hate to break up this touching moment, but we need to get y/n ready for tonight.” You look at her confused “what’s tonight?” “Your engagement party of course!” She says excitedly “why did I think I’d at least have a week to get settled in. You guys already had this planned out didn’t you? I bet you guys called the Jeon family as soon as you found out I was coming right?” You interrogate. Your father chuckles next to you as you look at you parents incredulously. “It was your fathers idea. I said we should wait at least a day.” You mother adds. “ of course it was,” you say as your father looks the other direction with a cheeky smile.
you turn to look at Jungkook who’s been unusually quiet. Watching the scene in front of him. “Were you in on this too?” You ask him looking past your parents. “I actually just found out the moment before you came in,” he responds with a small smile. “But I can say it’s been some of the best news I’ve gotten all week. I really missed you y/n.” He says scratching the nape of his neck. You and Jungkook have been arranged since childhood. He’s always had a crush on you, it broke his heart when you refused to marry him for someone else. But now that he has you he’s not going to let you go again. “I missed you too JK, you’ve grown up so much I barely even recognized you,” you say chuckling. “Yeah I know right. It’s crazy how much people can change over a short amount of time.” He says looking at you with a look you just couldn’t decipher.
Before you could respond you mother cuts in again “Ma fille, we really need to get you ready for tonight. Ah please take her bags up to her room and get her into the proper attire.” You mother asks the head maid. “Oh and burn whatever she’s wearing.” She points at your outfit , covering her face with a look of disgust. “Cheri what is this atrocity you’re wearing. It hurts to look at.” You were wearing white beach shorts, a stripped tee and a green cardigan. It’s not what you were used to wearing when you were home. But it was comfortable and made you stand out less. “Momma it’s not that bad,” you defend. “No babydoll your mothers right. That’s not something anyone in our family would wear, maybe if the cardigan wasn’t the same shade of puke it would pass as inside clothes. No scratch that no one would ever wear that in their entire lives.” You father adds looking slightly disgusted. You look at you parents shocked at them reading you to filth. Behind them you see Jungkook holding his laughter while covering his face. Before you could defend yourself further you’re already being ushered out of the room.
#bts jk#bts ff#btsedit#jung hoseok#kim najoon#kim soekjin#kim taehyung#park jimjn#bts army#jungkook x reader#bts x you#bts x reader#bts junkook#jungkook smut#jungkook ff#bts ffs#jeon jungkook ff#fanfic#cheating au#bts angst#childhood friends au
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Just the norm
Pairing :- Mark Lee x Fem!reader
Summary :- Just some college kids being college kids.
Genre :- College students, comedy (because I’m nice like that), text messages, fluff (you tell me), acquaintances to friends, flirty-ish, ass whooping, cringe alert (sry)
Wc :- 1.3k
WARNING :- cursing. It’s never a peaceful day with the haechan & renjun, reader wanted the smoke, and jeno just being the peacemaker because he can.
Notes :- THANK YOU FOR 100 NOTES ON MY LATEST BOOK kutabare starring Jeno T-T. I WROTE THIS, sry i wrote this in the spawn of the moment because why not, you either enjoy it or you don’t, but once again thank you for the love, don't be afraid to talk with me and send in some ask, I’m open. But anyways enjoy my crack cringe short story, LIKE, FOLLOW & REBLOG.
🦹
“HAECHAN, GIVE IT BACK!,” you yelled as you leap forward to grab the nuisance by his light brown hair.
“Bring back what?!” Haechan asked as he stood on the other side of the table. “I have nothing that belongs to you,”
“Haecha- ugh, RENJUN!” you called out to Renjun who’s busied himself with his phone on the other side of the classroom, with his legs crossed elegantly. “Haechan give her back whatever you stole from her,” Renjun ordered as he kept his attention on his phone.
Haechan snarled at you as he handed you back your phone, and pouted as he plopped himself at his desk.
“I always knew you were a lil bitch,” you stick your tongue out playfully at Haechan as you took your phone from his hands.
“What'd you say you strumpet-” he was interrupted as Jeno entered the classroom.
“What’s with all the noise I was hearing outside?” Jeno questioned as he placed his barrel bag on your desk. “You two fighting again?” Jeno looked at both you and Haechan unimpressed.
“They’ve been at each other throats since this mornin-” Renjun was the second victim of being interrupted by someone.
“There wouldn’t have been an issue today if he wouldn’t stick his nose out in other people's busine-” Haechan interrupted you as he jumped out of his seat, slamming both of his palms on your desk startling Jeno.
“Well, I’m sorry for wanting to know who has my dearest friend all smiley and shit!” He nearly gagged at the scene he witnessed this morning. “Who possessed you, babe?” Haechan looked at you worriedly as he reached out to check your temperature.
“Renjun whatcha doing after school?,” Jeno peered over you and Haechan getting into a brawl, completely ignoring you two as if it was a normal day.
“Mark asked me to help him with something so I’m probably going to his house,” Renjun told Jeno as he went into his bag searching for a snack. You halted yourself as you let go of Haechan’s neck, dusting your pants as you got up from the floor, kicking him in his ass before you walk over to Renjun.
“Want me to tag along, Junnie?” You sat on Renjun’s table and tried to muster your most irresistible puppy eyes.
“Look who’s the little bitc-” Haechan got slapped at the back of the head by Jeno as he struggled to get up from the floor.
Renjun put his attention back on you. “Why you wanna tag along, don’t you have somewhere to be after school,” Renjun asks pushing more of a reaction out of you, even though he has an idea of your motives to join him and Mark.
“Well.. not anymore, I don’t really have to be there, the team will do fine without me for one day,” you reassure him, even though you’re kind of rethinking if your basketball team has that level of independence.
“They’ll be fine,” You brushed him off as you took a bite of the snack he handed to you.
“So who were you messaging this morning to have Haechan nearly puke everywhere?” Renjun questioned you as if he didn’t know.
“No one really,” You stuffed a handful of the chips in your mouth. “Jst marlk,” you were able to get out, thinking no one would be able to understand. Until.
“MARK? MARK FUCKING LEE,” Haechan pushed Renjun out of his seat as he planted himself in front of you in Renjun's abandoned chair. “Lee Minhyung has you smiling like that?!,” Haechan looks at you in concern and disgust.
“What’s so wrong with Mark?” Jeno joined in as he held Renjun back from pouncing on Haechan. “Calm down Renjun, calm down,” He gently stroked Renjun's hair and went over to flick Haechan’s forehead.
“Well for starters,” Haechan rubbed his red forehead. “He’s a total wimp that just smells bad and too uptight, AND HE CHEATS!”
“You’re just mad because he beat you in badminton,” Renjun rolled his eyes whilst taking a seat next to you on his desk.
“And because he beat you in Mario cart,” Jeno added as he propped by the window.
“And because he-” you stopped speaking when Haechan started to dramatically flop in his chair.
“Okay! Okay, I get it, I’m a jealous trainwreck, I can't help my competitiveness” he pulled out his white handkerchief and surrendered. Everyone chuckled at him until their attention was taken by the devil himself.
“Hey Mark,” Jeno got up and bro hugged Mark who reluctantly accepted the gesture.
“Hey,” Mark muttered looking quite tired as he went to take his seat at the back of the class.
“You see what I mean? A total wimp, didn’t even greet us” Haechan loudly whispered as he watched Mark place his headphones on his head. Jeno went over the speak with Mark, leaving Haechan to ramble.
“I don’t think you should be talking considering your mom has to wash your underwear at your big age, and he looks tired” You retorted, gazing at Jeno and Mark wondering what Jeno was talking about.
“Well since you’re obviously so smitten by him why don’t you go over and talk with him?” Haechan challenges you as he looks at you expectedly.
Renjun brushed him off “You didn’t have the balls to talk to youR crush face to face, all I saw was shriveled nuts,”. You burst out in laughter gaining the attention of the two boys at the back.
“You know what I’m not even going to waste my time with you,” Haechan glared at Renjun.
“The only action you’re getting is from that hole in your pillow, you prude,” Haechan spat out as Renjun gasped at his words.
“It wouldn’t be that way if you’d let your mom visit me mor- AH!” Renjun got up from his desk and ran towards the classroom door with Haechan trailing behind him screaming how he’d skin him alive.
You sat there with your arms crossed, knowing after they’d had their little fight they’d probably leave the compound goofing around to only return until their next class. You watch as Jeno and Mark are still in deep conversation about god knows what, so you get up go back to your table, and take out your phone preparing to play a mobile game until lunch is finished.
After five minutes of playing Roblox, you see you got a text from someone.
Marknificent 🦹: So no greetings when I arrived?
You quickly open the message, instantly thinking back and realizing you indeed didn't greet him, not that it was unpurpose.
You: I should be asking you the same thing 🤨
Marknificent 🦹: Touche
Marknificent 🦹: What ya doing?
You looked behind you to see him still engaging in conversation with Jeno, well he’s mostly listening but anyway.
You: I’m actually on the toilet 💀
You: Taking a fat shit
Marknificent 🦹: ew wft dude 😭 😂
Marknificent 🦹: Well I’m popping a huge pimple on my ass rn
You let out a snorted laugh to look back and see Mark looking away from Jeno, smiling trying to hold his laughter.
You: Are you having a serious conversation rn?
Marknificent 🦹: Yes 🧍🏻
You: So why are you texting me?
Marknificent 🦹: Well I’ve noticed we don’t really talk much in person because we’re always interrupted, so why not cheat the system?
You: That’s not nice bro ☠️
Marknificent 🦹: He’s too deep in his story to even notice
Marknificent 🦹: Plus ima pro at multitaskin, no lies detected.
You: Im intrigued
Marknificent 🦹: Well I asked renjun to help me with something at my place
Marknificent 🦹: You could tag along and
Marknificent 🦹: MAYBE, i’ll show you first hand (pun intended)
You: what was the joke? 💀
You: Boy-
You: what ya mean by that? 😏
Marknificent 🦹: I shall not tell ☝️
Marknificent 🦹: You have to be there to find out 🧍🏻
You: Aaaaand what if I’m not there Mark lee
Marknificent 🦹: Well Albert, Ig you’ll never know
You: Albert 🧍♀️, really? 👩🦯
You logged out
#mark lee#kpop fanfic#nct#nct 127#nct dream#mark lee smut#mark lee x reader#mark lee imagines#mark lee fluff#mark lee angst#lee mark#nct u#nct dream mark#mark nct 127#mark nct dream#mark lee nct u#nct x female reader#mark lee texts#nct texts#nct dream texts#mark lee x y/n#mark x reader
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His Creation Myth
Nice little MountainDew I wrote that got me out of a writing slump. For @forlorn-crows , because of your kind tags on my last Mountain fic.
MDNI
~1900
tags: water Dew, virgin Dew, handjob, alot of praise, Mountain is absolutely whipped, nice mention of a little aftercare
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Freshly summoned Dew has a quiet movie night with Mountain, and lets all pretend that he's never done anything before. A problem arrises, and good boy Mount has to help him.
Below for your consumption.
It was just supposed to be movie night, a welcoming night so to speak with some snacks and lighthearted conversation. Mountain wanted a relaxed moment with the new summon. But things went sideways halfway through watching Nemo of all things.
Dew had started feeling a weird heat pooling in his stomach. Before long, the slight pressure from the throw pillow on his lap was becoming excruciating. He sat there, with a pit of worry blooming deep in his chest, before finding the courage to raise the pillow a little. He finds a tent in his sweatpants with a small, darkening wet spot. The hot ache occupying his midsection combined with whatever this was made him feel like he was dying.
He was apparently staring for too long, because Mountain had to interrupt his non-attention.
“Something wrong?” Mountain’s words may as well be cracks of thunder, they spooked him and he stupidly jammed the pillow into his lap to hide his problem. It visibly makes him wince, which doesnt help Mountain’s brewing suspicions.
“Nothing!” He says, too quickly, that it was definitely unusual. Mountain looks at him with those obnoxiously kind, green eyes, a stare that wasn't going to let Dew avoid confessing his problem. Dew was very new to life topside, he was fresh, but Mountain had already taken a liking to him. He could read him pretty well and had learned most of his tells.
“It's written all over your face Dew, come on. You’re new, you couldn't have run into too many problems yet, I can guarantee that I’ve dealt with whatever it is,”
The pleading and genuine concern was making things more difficult for Dew. His dick was really aching and he didn't know why, or how to fix it, how to make himself feel better. For all he knew, he could be dying, he had never dealt with this in the pit. Maybe something went wrong during his summoning, maybe his vessel was defective. Regardless, something was very, very wrong.
Mountain pauses the movie and moves to face Dew, again asking what's wrong. His undivided attention makes Dew’s face hold a bright shade of red, hot shame working down his spine. He tries to curl in on himself further but ends up pushing the pillow down again. The harsh friction makes tears pool in the corners of his eyes.
Mountain can smell his distress, astringent and bitter. He uses a finger to raise his chin up to bring them face to face. He’s left staring at a pair of eyes screwed tight.
“Bug?” Dew’s breath hitches. The endearing nickname was the final nail in the coffin.
Dew finally lets the words out with a whine, “It really hurts,”
“What does?” As far as he’s noticed, nothing had happened to Dew in recent days, and definitely nothing happened in the two hours they’ve been hanging out. He couldn't drum up a moment where he could’ve gotten hurt.
Dew doesn't even really know what’s hurting, he cant really explain it, so his only option is to show Mountain. Once he moves the pillow, Mountain knows exactly why Dew is hurting.
“Oh…” He swears he tried to keep his voice neutral so as to not alarm Dew, but he failed miserably. If anything, the way he said it further convinced Dew that something about this was bad, that it would be hard to fix.
“What do you mean oh?! You have to help me. I think I fucked up Mountain.” A new scent quickly invades Mountain’s senses, it reeks of burnt wood and venom— fear. His brain is quickly wiped clean of any joke, realizing that Dew really has no clue what’s happening.
“Calm down Dew, you’re perfectly fine,”
“How am I possibly fine?” The tears have started to fall against his rosy cheeks, leaving trails down to his jaw then neck.
“You’ve really never…?” Mountain desperately needs the full picture, needs Dew to confirm his suspicions. Dew shakes his head, messily wiping off tears that wont stop falling.
“I know how to fix this,” Its Mountains turn to blush. He’s worried that he’s taking advantage of Dew in such an unknowledgeable state, but he’d be lying to himself if he said that this didn't make him throb in his own pants. The chance to relieve him, to teach him for the first time. The notion turned him into a puddle.
He cradles Dew’s face, dragging his thumb across the tear streaked cheek. The warmth makes Dew loosen his eyes a bit, it takes him off the edge just enough so he can breathe.
“You need to tell me if anything feels worse ok? Really Dew.” Dew sighs, hopeful for relief.
“Ok,” Its a quick whisper, he follows it up with a nod just to make sure. His eyes are still shut, he doesn’t know what the cure is and he definitely doesn't know what Mountain is about to do. So he waits patiently, waits for whatever is supposed to make him feel better.
What he doesn't expect is his shirt being lifted off and a new pressure surrounding his cock. The sudden contact makes him hiss. His eyes shoot open to see Mountain’s eyes locked on his crotch with his large hand palming over it.
Pain floats around in his mind, he’s sensitive. He didn't think the pain could get worse, but it did. And it was torture. But it was steadily being replaced by a comforting warmth the more Mountain kneaded at him, so he didnt say stop.
“I’ll show you Dew, how to make yourself feel good,” He drags a thumb over the larger wet spot, slowly, right over the tip, making a point to press down on where he thinks the slit is. Dew jolts and reaches for the offending hand, clamping around his wrist.
“—feels like you’re lighting me on fire. Hurts.”
“Sorry,” He doesn't mean to tease, not now, but he just can't help it. It's built into him like his magic. It's stronger than second nature. He studies Dew’s face when he goes back to gentle touches. Takes in how his jaw has gone slack, how his pale blue eyes watch on with awe while Mountain touches him.
He gives one last tender squeeze before gently wiggling his arm out of Dew’s grasp. He hooks a finger into Dew’s sweatpants and works it down to his mid thigh, just enough to get it out of the way. Just enough to catch a glimpse of the offending member.
He didn't know what he was expecting, but it wasn't what he saw— a heavy cock that bounced against his stomach right under his belly button, leaking pre onto his little happy trail. Its nicely thick and long enough that the head would sit nicely in his throat if he got the chance to wrap his lips around Dew.
“I’ll teach you everything Dew. You just have to let me.” He wraps his hand around Dew’s cock and he feels it twitch, kicking against his hand. As well endowed as Dew is, he looks embarrassingly small in Mountain’s grasp. He wants to make a remark, make Dew blush even more by telling him just how small he is, but he tucks that fantasy away, for now. Dew’s cock is so red that it's almost purple, he understands then, why he shed tears.
“It’s so much Mount,”
“Give it time Dew.”
He starts to stroke him, root to tip, lightly gliding over the head and Dew yelps each time. Soon, the drag of his hand fills the room with wet noises. The only other noise is a stream of ‘Ah, Ah, Ah’ falling from the little ghouls mouth.
“Your body already knows what to do, bug, look at how wet you are,” Dew moans, high and feminine. His eyes catch on his slicked thighs and hips, noticing how he they shine with the light dim light of the tv. Mountain's brain is enamored by how he looks like a star as he comes apart in his hands, by how pretty Dew sounds.
The previously overwhelming sensation has bled into indescribable pleasure, Mountain is towing Dew back from the thin line between pleasure and pain. With the relief, he starts to relax, his muscles go numb.
The earth ghoul recites a silent prayer to whatever is out there. He prays that he’ll be the only one to ever hear his siren sing, that Dew will be his— that Dew would let himself be his.
The easiest support is against Mountain’s chest, so he uses it, leaning against the supple flesh while Mountain snakes his hand up onto the nape of his neck, dragging his nails over his scalp. He holds Dew close, relishes in his warm breath against him.
Dew starts to roll his hips, jerky and uncoordinated, until he finds a rhythm. He thrusts up to meet the tight fist around him while Mountain uses his finger to pet at the sensitive spot under the head.
“Good Dew, take what you want,” Mountain watches as even more slick drips out of Dew, it quickly reminds him of his soft spot for water ghouls.
Dew’s rhythm starts to falter and the muscles in his toned thighs start to twitch. Mountain can see it, hell he can damn near taste it, Dew was close.
A tightness forms deep in Dew's stomach, he’s about to have his first orgasm, ever. And the best part? He doesn't even know it.
“Mountain, what is this? Its- Mount its…” He’s been reduced to a mumbling mess, devoid of any coherent thought thanks to Mountain’s ministrations. All he can do is cling to Mountain like he's his only chance at salvation, which in this moment, he really is.
“Just let it happen Dew, let go for me.”
Mountain tightens his hand and jerks him off faster, twisting when he gets to the tip and rubbing his palm into the head to polish it for good measure. He’s trying his hardest to snap the wound up band in Dew.
Dew cums without a sound, save for the yelp of him choking on his own breath. He keeps nuzzling his face into the column of Mountain’s neck, grazing his fangs over the tender flesh. All he can smell is his earthy scent, laced with pine and lavender.
He has an unexplainable urge to bite, he wants to sink his teeth in, but he clamps down on his own lip instead. A tinge of copper hits his tongue as he breaks skin. His fingers stay wound up tight in the earth ghoul’s shirt, feeling like he would drift away without the tether.
Mountain feels like luck is raining down on him as he gets to watch the birth of something he can only describe as celestial. He basks in the glory of Dew discovering pleasure, realizing desire, he watches as Dew fully becomes one with sin. He cant peel his eyes off of the cum spilled over his fingers, speckled along the small hairs of Dew’s happy trail.
Mountain keeps stroking him, working him through everything gently. Once Dew goes soft, he rests his dick gently against his thigh before wiping his mess off on his sheets. He pulls Dew into his lap, ignoring the stickiness that'll inevitably dry uncomfortably between them, and pulls him tight against his chest while leaning against the headboard. He feels Dew’s heavy breath, the deep rise and fall of his chest against his own.
Dew shifts his leg and unknowingly nudges Mountain’s own throbbing cock, it makes him gasp. But his brain doesn’t recognize it beyond that, it doesnt care about his release. All his brain can think of is the twitching ghoul in his arms.
“Fuck, Mount. Fucking hell.”
“Was that ok? Are you ok?” Mountain expects a simple yes, but Dew’s answer is better than he could’ve imagined.
“Teach me more sometime.” He feels him further sag into his chest, feeling hopeful for the future. He places a kiss against his hairline and catches his scent again. This time, Dew smells like petrichor and a breeze along a shoreline, sweet and light— happiness.
Dew resting on him makes him feel flayed open, like his raw nerves are being singed one by one. His brain is draped in the sensation— he can’t imagine a life without it.
They’ll eventually get up and when they do, he’ll run a bath for the both of them. He’ll lay Dew on top of him in the tub with his back to his solid chest. He’ll lean his chin on Dew’s bony shoulder and whisper about how good he was, how this is what he deserves each and every time he ever lays with someone. He’ll pepper the side of his face with soft kisses as he mumbles words of thanks, immensely grateful that Dew trusted him with something so special. They’ll stay till the water runs cold.
He hopes Dew falls asleep tucked into his side.
#nameless ghouls#ghost band#the band ghost#dewdrop ghoul#fire ghoul#mountain x dewdrop#dew ghoul#ghost band fanfic#vee writes#mountain ghost#mountain ghoul#dew ghost#dewdrop ghost#ghost bc#water dewdrop#mountain dew#mountain dew ghost#mountdew#earth ghoul
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