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hongjoongtime117 · 23 days

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Jenga and Jealousy

Pairings: Kim Hongjoong/Reader, Choi San/Jung Wooyoung

Genre: SMUT (MDNI 18+)

Word count: 12.6k

Warnings: choking, orgasm denial, Hongjoong is heavily tattooed and pierced, reader is a brat, unprotected sex (wrap it up, pleaseeee!), drinking, oral (F/M receiving), phone sex (sort of?), jealous Kim Hongjoong, pet names (baby, gorgeous, pretty, Kitten), Hongjoong has a Captain kink. Lemme know if I missed anything? lol

Summary: Wooyoung and San attempt to be your wingmen and invite Hongjoong over for a game night. Spicy Jenga makes for a jealous Hongjoong.

SPECIAL THANKS TO @mlwood1498 for helping with the spice when my brain was STUCK

“Yah! Y/N! We’re having a friend over tonight for drinks and games. You cool with that?” Wooyoung shouts from the kitchen where he’s making breakfast for him and San. You go to join him in the kitchen, Wooyoung’s cooking making your mouth water.

“I mean, I guess that depends on which friend, Woo” you sigh, already knowing it’s gonna happen whether you’d like it to or not. He was only asking out of courtesy. “Did you make some for me, too?” You plead with a pout and big doe eyes you know he can’t say no to.

“Pftt, of course I did. I definitely don’t want you in the kitchen. You almost burned down the entire apartment in your previous attempt to cook” he says, rolling his eyes ever so dramatically. “And the friend is Kim Hongjoong. Ya know, the one you’re always eye fucking?”

Your cheeks turn hot from the blush creeping across them, and San howls with laughter.

“I do NOT!” you scowl as you smack Wooyoung on the shoulder.

He turns away from the stove to face you and sees your bright red face. “I’d say the tomato color you're currently sporting tells me otherwise” a soft, veiny hand coming to pinch your cheeks.

“Yeah, Y/N. You make it so obvious” San says through his giggles. “Listen, we’re just trying to potentially be your wingmen tonight.”

“I dont NEED wingmen, you assholes!”

“Y/N, when was the last time you got a good dick down?” Wooyoung is looking at you, an eyebrow raised, waiting for an answer.

“Look, I don’t have a live in fuck toy” your eyes motioning between him and San. “It’s… been a while” you sigh dejectedly.

“Yeah, Y/N, we knew that. Which is why we’re trying to be good besties here and help you out. Even though you just called me a fuck toy” San says, feigning offense.

“Looks like we’re getting Y/N some dick tonight” Wooyoung lets out his high pitched cackle.

“I never even agreed to this” you whine. “And I think maybe you should pay more attention to your cooking than my sex life, before you burn the apartment down.”

“Just think about it, Y/N. We’re obviously not gonna force you into anything” Wooyoung shrugs.

“Does he even know the intentions of having him over? How do you know he’d even be down for it? And how would you even know if he’s gonna be a good fuck?” You shoot your questions to Wooyoung and San a million miles a minute.

“First off, Y/N. He has an idea of why he’s coming over. Second, if you weren’t drooling like a dog over that man, you would also notice the way he eye fucks you right back. So I know he’s more than down. I just didn’t want to give him any expectations, in case, ya know, you were gonna turn down some dick from the man of your dreams.”

Wooyoung always has to tease. God, you can’t stand him sometimes.

“And as far as your third question, I’m not going to go into too much detail on how I know. Just know that I do.”

After the three of you finish breakfast (which was amazing of course, living with Wooyoung was like having a personal chef) you head to your room and flop down on your comfy bed. You unlock your phone and open instagram to mindlessly scroll for a bit. Except the moment you open it, Kim Hongjoong is staring back at you.

You stare, open mouthed, at the insanely gorgeous photo he’s posted. His dark brown undercut styled perfectly. The wink, further drawing you in with his long, pretty eyelashes and the eyebrow piercing bringing attention to his well shaped brows. The simple diamond stud adorning his left nostril. The neck tattoos peeking from the collar of his button up. And at last, the part of the photo that had you thinking that maybe this night might not be such a bad idea after all. His pierced tongue poking through his perfect set of teeth and plump, shiny, also pierced lips.

You lock your phone and toss it across your bed. You scream into your pillow with frustration, thoughts of what Hongjoong could do with that pretty mouth flooding your brain. How good that sharp nose would feel against your clit as you ride his face, fucking into you with his (most likely) very experienced, jeweled tongue. The thoughts made the temperature in the room become increasingly uncomfortable.

“Fuck, I need to get a grip” you say to yourself as you push yourself up until you’re sitting on your knees in the middle of your bed. The bed that may soon be occupied with you and Hongjoong, playing out your current fantasies.

You rummage through your messy dresser drawers in search of something sexy and unexpected to put under the baggy sweats and sweatshirt you were planning on wearing tonight. After some digging around, you find your full body leather harness that leaves absolutely nothing to the imagination. This way, if things go right, Hongjoong will be pleasantly surprised. And if this doesn't go as planned, you don’t look like you were desperate for his touch.

At the particular moment you decide to toss the harness onto you bed, Wooyoung and San decide to burst into your room, unannounced.

“Ya, have yall ever heard of knocking? Scared the shit out of me! And what if I was standing here naked!?”

“Relax, Y/N. It’s nothing we haven’t seen before” Wooyoung says casually, ignoring your dramatics. “Besides, the only person I’m really interested in seeing naked is San. And maybe Hongjoong.”

San raises an eyebrow and side eyes Wooyoung. “You can’t be for real, Woo?”

“What!? I've heard some things and I wanna know if they’re true. That’s all.” Wooyoung shrugs, as if that’s something completely normal to say in front of your boyfriend.

“Wait, what kind of things?” you ask, curiosity lighting you on fire.

“Y/N, I already told you, you aren’t getting a word out of me. And from the looks of what you’ve got picked out, you’re planning on finding out for yourself.” He nods his head to your chosen fit for the night.

“Is that all you’re wearing tonight?” San seems a little surprised, as you’re usually not that forward. “Kinda just screams ‘I’m desperate, come fuck me now’” he chuckles.

“No, you fucking dummy! I’m wearing sweats and a sweatshirt over it!”

“Ahh, get him with the element of surprise. Ok, I see you, Y/N.” Wooyoung smirks as he wiggles his eyebrows at you.

“What the hell did you guys even come in here for in the first place?”

“Oh, we wanted to know if you wanted to go to the store with us to grab snacks and drinks for tonight. We’re leaving in 5.” San takes Wooyoung by the hand and they head back to the living room.

You throw on a simple graphic tee and ripped black jeans for your endeavor to the store. You head to meet San and Wooyoung in the living room. “Ok, let’s goooo!”

The entire ten minute ride to the store consisted of Wooyoung and San hounding you with questions about the evening that was about to unfold.

“So you’re really about to let us be your wingmen tonight, huh?”

“Wooyoung, I swear to God if you don’t shut up. I’m going to spend the entire night in my room.”

“Aw, come on Y/N. I know Hongjoong is really looking forward to tonight.” San joining in on Wooyoung’s teasing as your cheeks begin to turn a rosy pink.

“Ugh, let’s just go grab what we need and get back home. I’m in desperate need of a shower” you sigh as Wooyoung parks the car.

You guys grab a cart and begin filling it with an array of chips and candy. San tosses in a box of pepero.

You shoot San a questioning glance. “And what are those for, San?”

“Oh, you already know Y/N,” a mischievous smirk spreading across his face.

You give yourself a harsh face palm and slide your hand down your face. They really were trying incredibly hard to make tonight’s tensions as high a possible.

Heading into the aisles of alcohol, Wooyoung picks up the cheapest, probably most vile option he could find for vodka. “This should work!”

“Woo, that’s literally the worst option out of everything here!”

“Duh, Y/N, it’s supposed to be a punishment, not enjoyable.”

“Punishment?” A perplexed look crosses your face.

“Yeah, we’re playing a game with certain challenges. But if you decide not to follow through, your punishment is a double shot of this shit,” he says waving the bottle in his hand. “Among other rules we’ll explain when Hongjoong arrives.”

“Why do I not trust this?”

Defeated, the three of you head to go check out with the massive amount of snacks and the bottle of alcohol you’ve thrown into the cart.

Upon returning home, you help San and Wooyoung unpack everything and you rush to your room in order to get yourself prepared for tonight’s events. You definitely need an ‘everything’ shower.

You step into your private bathroom, and turn the shower on to a comfortable setting. You’re going to be there for a while. This is the first time you’ve gotten laid in at least a year. First impressions matter, and you wanted to make a damn good one on Hongjoong.

Stepping under the warm water, calming your nerves just a little, you lather yourself with your favorite vanilla and jasmine soap. You deep condition your hair (if his hands end up in it, you want him to enjoy the feel of your soft hair). You make sure everything is smoothly shaven. You hop out and lather yourself with your matching body lotion and wrap your fluffy towel around you to head back to your room.

Staring at the leather contraption on the bed, you realize you’ve never actually worn this particular item before.

“Hey, fuckers! I need help!” you shout through the apartment.

“San and Wooyoung at your service” both bowing as they enter your room and try to stop the giggles from escaping.

You hand them the puzzling pieces of leather and wonder why you even bother wearing anything at all at this point.

“I can’t figure this out,” you whine, a pout decorating your lips.

“Oh, I’ve got this!” Woo says ever so cockily. “Drop the towel, babe.”

Hesitant for a second, you remember that being roommates for so long, they’ve definitely seen their fair share of your body, so you toss your towel aside.

San and Wooyoung work quietly, bending, twisting, poking, and prodding you until you’re fully situated in the body harness, that does nothing to cover, and everything to accentuate.

Wooyoung turns you around to admire their work. San lets out an appreciative whistle. “If Hongjoong doesn’t fuck you stupid once he sees this, he’s insane.”

“Ok, ok, get out now!” You hurry them out of your bedroom, cheeks flushed with embarrassment. Hongjoong is supposed to arrive in a half an hour. You’ve got to throw on your sweats and sweatshirt, and try to relax and calm yourself before the man of the hour shows up. You busy yourself with prepping the snacks for the night.

As soon as you’ve spread out the snacks, vodka, and shot glasses on the glass coffee table, you sit down, nerves finally calm, and the doorbell chimes loudly, startling you.

“Hey, Y/N you want to go answer that?” San says cheekily.

“Do I have a choice?” you banter back, rolling your eyes.

You shove yourself off the couch and head across the living room to make your way to the door. You take a deep breath before carefully opening it, finally coming face to face with Hongjoong. He flashes you a smile with those perfect teeth and you catch yourself looking at the lip ring shining right in the middle of his plump bottom lip. God, those lips look so kissable. He’s dressed in a black button up and dark denim Levi’s.

“Hey, Y/N!” his voice pulling you from your thoughts.

“Hey, Hongjoong!” You smile back as you step aside to let him in. He kicks off his heeled boots and sets them by the door.

He follows you into the living room, where Wooyoung and San are comfortably spread out on the larger couch, leaving the small love seat to you and Hongjoong. Nice play, boys.

“Hey, Joong!” the boys greet in unison.

“Hey! Thanks for inviting me over. I’m excited to have a night to relax. I’m usually so busy working on music that I just don’t ever have time to do stuff like this!”

“Of course! Sit back and relax, man.” Wooyoung gestures to the love seat that you’re currently standing behind.

He plops down and makes himself comfortable. All three of them have noticed you still have yet to move from your spot. Hongjoong tilts his head back to look at you, his exposed, tattooed neck looking really suckable right about now.

“You can come sit with me. I don’t bite. Unless, ya know, you’re into that sort of thing? I don’t judge,” he snickers, and again, for the nth time tonight, your cheeks heat up with blush.

You sit down next to him, hugging your knees to your chest, as that’s your most comfortable way to sit. “Don’t start your shit, Kim Hongjoong.”

“Ooo, someone’s feisty!” he teases, and you lightly smack his arm. Just from the slight impact, you can tell he’s got some impressive arms under his button up. San and Wooyoung are watching the whole thing unfold and can’t help but howl with laughter at the exchange.

As the laughter from the two dies down, Wooyoung suggests putting on a movie. “How about a scary movie, Y/N? Your favorite!”

You shoot Woo the most evil side eye you can manage. Your roommates know you despise scary movies.

Hongjoong notices the interaction and begins to taunt you. “What? Are you scared Y/N?”

“Pffftt, no? Why would I be scared? It’s just a movie.”

Hongjoong gives a knowing smile and you’re definitely going to make Wooyoung pay for this later.

San and Wooyoung get comfortable on the couch and the intro to the movie begins. Hongjoong decides to make himself comfortable as well, turning so his back is resting against the arm of the love seat, one foot on the floor, the other resting gently behind you.

“Come here, Y/N, relax a little.” Hongjoong puts his arms around your waist and pulls you to sit between his legs, your back resting against his well defined chest. He wrestles a blanket hanging from the back of the couch and places it over the two of you. He nuzzles into your neck and you can hear him sharply inhale.

“Damn, Y/N, you smell amazing,” he whispers into your ear, and the ghost of breath that tickles your ear gives you goosebumps and sends shivers down your spine.

You try to ignore your growing arousal at being so close to him. “Pay attention to the movie, Joong” you whisper back.

The moment you both focus your attention back to the screen is the very moment a scene makes you jump and you pull the blanket over your face, partly to hide your embarrassment, and partly from fear.

You hear Hongjoong chuckling lowly in your ear. “It’s just a movie, right Y/N? Not scared, my ass.”

You return his teasing by repositioning yourself onto your side and placing a harsh bite right to his bicep. His eyes widen just a bit, and you see the fire ignite in them behind his long lashes. He snakes his arm up your body and places his hand, decorated with tattoos and rings on your throat, not squeezing, but resting it there, and he feels you gulp.

His voice vibrating against your ear that is now resting against his chest, “Mmm, so you do enjoy biting. You better be careful, Kitten.” he warns.

Through the remainder of the movie his hand stays placed on your neck, rubbing against the unmarked skin with his thumb. You hadn’t paid attention to a damn thing that happened in that movie since he wrapped that pretty custom necklace around you.

The credits begin rolling and you receive a quizzical look from Wooyoung and San. “What are you guys doing over there?”

“Someone doesn’t know how to keep their teeth to themselves.” Hongjoong says with a cocky smirk.

“Oh, yeah. That doesn’t surprise me. She learned from the best, see?” Wooyoung giggles as he grabs San’s arm and sinks his teeth into his forearm.

“Yah, Woo! What the fuck was that for?”

“Since when do I ever have a reason for biting? It’s just fun!” Wooyoung simply says with a shrug

Hongjoong is amused by the quarrel between the two boyfriends.

“I have to agree with you, Woo. It’s definitely fun.” You hear the mischief in his voice before you even realize what’s happening. He tilts your head to the side and nips the bare skin of your neck. This elicits a moan from you and you quickly slap your hand over your mouth. “Mmm, so responsive, Kitten.”

Wooyoung leaves the comfort of San’s lap, stands up and claps his hands together, pulling you from the trance Hongjoong has placed you in. “Ok, who’s ready for drinks and drunk Jenga!?”

“What the fuck is drunk Jenga, Woo?” curiosity coming through in your voice.

“Ok, here. Let me explain. So me and San have taken the liberty of writing little challenges on each of the blocks. So when you pull your block, you either do what the block says, or take your punishment, in the form of two shots. If you knock the tower down, you must sit in the lap of another player for the rest of the game. The others get to decide who.”

“Alright, let’s get the real party started!” exclaims Hongjoong.

Wooyoung heads to grab the game while everyone else repositions themselves in their spots to have better access to the coffee table.

Wooyoung returns and begins setting up the blocks, while you try sneaking a peek at what’s written on them.

“Yah! Y/N, if you try cheating, I’m gonna give you your punishment now!”

“Ok, ok. I’ll behave!” Hongjoong snickers next to you.

“And what exactly is so funny, Joong?”

“You saying you’ll behave. That might be true. For the moment.” He leans to whisper into your ear “But I’m planning on changing that, Kitten.” The pet name made your head spin and your pussy throb.

With the game finally set up, it’s a battle of rock, paper, scissors to find out who is the first victim of the Jenga blocks. This of course happens to be you.

You kneel in front of the coffee table and steady your hands to pull out a block. San and Wooyoung know you are the worst at Jenga. Despite that, you expertly pull a block from near the top of the stack and internally face palm yourself.

“Feed someone a sip” you read aloud.

San and Wooyoung are whooping with excitement and they both immediately decide that this will be a challenge for you and Hongjoong.

“You ok with that, Joong?” asks San.

“Yeah, of course. I’m not a pussy.” he snickers.

You roll your eyes at his cockiness and pour a shot of the vile alcohol. Shot in hand, you straddle Hongjoong’s lap, taking him by surprise.

“Not so cocky now, huh, Joongi?” mischievous grin spreading across your face. Your free hand roughly grips his chin and tilts his head back, his eyes widening in shock as he bites his plump, pink lips.

“Open up for me Joong” you assert in a very seductive tone. He does as told, and you pour the shot into his waiting mouth. He swallows and lets out a noise confirming his distaste for the bitter spirit.

You press yourself against him and lower your lips to his ear. “Good boy” your breath ghosts against him.

Wooyoung is loving your controlling behavior towards Hongjoong and is smacking San’s leg, trying to control himself from embarrassing you and ruining your feisty streak. You slowly climb off Hongjoong’s lap and reclaim your spot next to him on the loveseat. Hongjoong is still speechless and reeling from the pet name. After a few moments, he murmurs out a soft “fuck, I’m in for a hell of a night” to himself.

“Didn’t expect Y/N to give you a run for your money did you, Joong?” Wooyoung giving his best witch cackle.

“I mean, she’s always so quiet and shy. But they do say those are the ones you should watch out for. I should have known better. It’s ok, two can play that game, right Kitten?” Hongjoong shoots you a sideways glance.

You pressing your thighs together to help control the heat that is radiating from your core doesn’t go unnoticed by him. He’s not the only one in for a long night.

Next is San’s turn.

“Slap an ass. Oh come on, why did we even put this? This is too easy! We’re all in agreement that this is a Woo and I challenge?”

“Absolutely” you and Hongjoong agree together.

“How do you want me, Sannie?” Wooyoung urges.

“Hmmm, let’s make it a little more interesting shall we? Pants down and across my lap, Youngie.”

Wooyoung’s cheeks flush red at the request, but follows San’s orders and pulls his pants down enough to give San full access to his firm, toned ass, and climbs across San’s lap, ass in the air.

“Awww, don’t be shy now. You know you enjoy the attention, baby.”

Wooyoung whines low in his throat at the comment and prepares himself. San gently rubs Wooyoung’s cheeks before pulling his arm back as far as possible and landing an extremely hard, loud slap to Wooyoung’s right ass cheek. He lets out a whiny moan at the impact and buries his face as best as he can to hide the fucked out look he probably has on his face right now.

“Don’t hide. Stand up, pretty, let them see.”

San helps him stand and turns him around, ass on display for you and Hongjoong.

“He’s not gonna be able to sit for like a week, San. Damn.” Hongjoong lets out a long whistle at the bright red, swollen handprint adorning Wooyoung’s ass.

“He’s usually used to this shit by now, but like damn, that’s an impressive one, for sure, San” you add.

San pulls Wooyoung’s boxers and pants back up and Wooyoung kneels at the coffee table to take his turn. Wooyoung pulls a block from near the bottom of the stack, the tower wavering a little, but he manages to pull it out without incident.

“Lick? Mmm, shirt off, Sannie.”

San quickly pulls his shirt off and tosses it somewhere onto the floor. He places his huge arms across the back of the couch and spreads his legs. Wooyoung drops to his knees in front of San and lightly runs his hands up his thighs to rest on his petite waist. Wooyoung licks his lips, and San looks down at them, adoring his singular dot that embellishes his bottom one. Wooyoung then takes his wet, slippery tongue and starts from San’s navel, languidly licking up the middle of his body. He runs his tongue right up the middle of his rock hard abs. He stands, tongue never leaving his boyfriend's body, and perches himself on San’s lap while continuing to run his hands up his body, rubbing his thumbs over San’s perked nipples, as his tongue finally reaches his neck.

San moans at the sensation and Wooyoung can feel his dick twitch beneath him.

“Mmm, you like that, Sannie?” Wooyoung hums in his ear.

San takes a hand and places it on Wooyoung’s neck, pushing him back gently. “Stop being a brat, Youngie.”

You catch movement from Hongjoong out of the corner of your eye, and you can tell he’s desperately trying to regain some confront from the bulge that’s forming in his jeans from the Woosan interaction. And you’d be lying if you said you weren’t absolutely drenched from watching them either.

“Damn, I’m feeling a little lonely over here” teases Hongjoong, eyes dark.

“Well, it’s your turn next, Joong. See what fate lies for you in the Jenga blocks.” Wooyoung nods to the tower in the middle of the coffee table.

“Alright, here goes nothing!” Again, another amazing player at Jenga, Hongjoong plucks the block from the tower easily.

“Blowjob shot?” he reads with a raised eyebrow. “Ok, so who am I taking this off of?”

“I vote Woo!” you and San blurt out at the same time. Hongjoong chuckles in amusement and pours a shot bringing it over to Wooyoung to get started on their challenge.

“You aren’t gonna back out Joongi?” you say playfully.

“Kitten, I never back down from a dare.” Still half hard, he taps Wooyoung’s knee to get him to spread his legs enough for him to fit himself in between them and places the shot glass onto his lap. He crosses his hands behind his back and places his pierced lips around the top of the glass and tosses his head back, downing the shot effortlessly.

“Damn, that was fucking hot” you whisper breathlessly.

You are a mess right now. And if the smirk on Hongjoong’s face when he heads back to sink into his spot next to you is any indication, he knows.

Hongjoong’s inked hand grips your thigh tightly, too close to where you want them, but not close enough. “Looks like we’re back to you, Y/N.”

You study the tower, looking for a block to pull that’s not going to cause the tower to crumble. You find the perfect one and slip it out of its spot.

“Body shot! Ok, this one is actually kind of fun.”

San and Wooyoung give you a look and you already know once again that you’re paired with Hongjoong for this challenge.

Running his jeweled tongue over his perfect lips, he quips “Body shots are definitely fun Y/N. Let’s do it.”

You stand to grab the bottle of death from the table as Hongjoong lays himself across the love seat, hands behind his head that’s resting on the arm.

“Gotta unbutton the shirt, Y/N” he gestures cockily with his eyes to the neatly pressed button down.

You roll your eyes at him, climb onto his muscular thighs, and begin working the buttons, starting from the top. When you make it towards the bottom of his neatly tucked shirt, you pull it from his pants and slide it off of him.

The sight before you makes your jaw drop slightly. His intricately tattooed chest, and huge pecs lead you right to his perked nipples, each sporting a metal barbell. Your tongue tingles and mouth waters with the need to taste and tease them. Hongjoong moves his legs a bit to snap you back to reality.

“Like what you see, huh Y/N?” devilish smirk playing across his lips. “You’ve still got a challenge to complete.”

You can feel your body heating up as you slide further down to position yourself comfortably enough to pour the shot into his navel and take it. As you go to pour it, two things stop you in your tracks. The first, the dangly chrome silver star bringing attention to where your mouth is soon to be. The second, the sailor font showing just over the waistband of his dark denim jeans. The strength of your curiosity outweighs any rational thought, as you pull his waistband down just enough to see the full script.

“Captain?” you quirk up an eyebrow.

“It was a dare,” he shrugs. “And I told you I will never back down from a dare, Kitten. But, focus now. You’re keeping everyone waiting.”

Without further hesitation, you pour the bitter liquid into his navel and very slowly and deliberately lap it up. Hongjoong removes his hands from behind his head, placing one on the back of yours as you continue to lick and suck, knowing damn well the shot is long gone. Hongjoong is fully hard as he grips your hair, gently lifting you off of his abdomen and looking through his long lashes, down at you with hunger filled eyes.

“I think it’s gone now, Y/N” he manages to breathe out.

“Damn Y/N, you trying to suck his soul out through his belly button?” Wooyoung pesters.

“Yeah, you did a number on him just now” says San, having to add in his two cents, of course.

“I was just doing the challenge, like you guys said” you brush off their teasing as you clamber off Hongjoong so he can move his legs to give you back your spot on the love seat.

“Hell of a way to do that, Y/N” Hongjoong spits out.

The rotation has made its way back to San who pulls a ‘dicks drink’ block. All three men pour their shots and down them, less than enthusiastic.

“God, that really does taste like shit” Wooyoung chokes out.

“Told you, asshole!” you say, giggling at their suffering.

Next up is Wooyoung, carefully choosing his block as they are becoming fewer, and the possibility of the tower crashing down becomes greater. A playful smile fills his face as he shows the group the block reading ‘Pepero game’. Wooyoung leans to whisper into San’s ear, and he definitely enjoyed what he heard.

“Ok, since me and San have already decided, and majority rules in this game, Y/N, come here. You’re doing this one with me.” Your eyes widen but you honestly aren’t the least bit surprised. Wooyoung has always loved stirring the pot.

You raise yourself from the loveseat and head over to Wooyoung, Pepero already waiting in his mouth. San scoots over a bit, giving Wooyoung room to scoot over, so you can sit comfortably next to him. As you sit, your eyes glance over at Hongjoong for a brief moment, noticing his tense posture and the clench of his jaw.

Feeding off the fact that you know Hongjoong is becoming increasingly jealous, you take Wooyoung’s face in your hands, and the Pepero into your mouth. You take small, slow bites, the stick disappearing between your lips until they’re centimeters from Wooyoung’s. You close the almost nonexistent gap between the two of you, and press your lips to his. The kiss starts off leisurely, but grows needy rather quickly. You and Wooyoung sharing moans into each others mouths. You partly blame the alcohol. And the rest of the blame goes to Hongjoong, for working you up the entire night.

San sees how hot things are getting between the two of you, and Hongjoong’s extremely pissed off expression that he’s trying unsuccessfully to hide, and decides to interject.

“Alright, challenge over you two!”

San is pulling Wooyoung back and your lips part with a wet pop. You both are panting, trying to catch your breath. In spite of Hongjoong’s jealousy, he is insanely hard, and is fighting every voice in his mind to take you right now in front of San and Wooyoung, and let them know who you really belong to.

You happily make your way back over to Hongjoong, knowing you have very successfully riled him up.

“How ya feeling, Joongi?”

He turns himself on the loveseat, grips your neck in warning, cold rings giving you chills, pulls your ear to his mouth and growls.

“Oh, you thought that shit was cute, huh Y/N?”

Gulping at the suddenness of his aggressive behavior, but being the brat that you are, you decide to see how far you can push his buttons.

“Judging from the way your dick is straining against your jeans, I’d say you thought so too, Joong.”

“I’d watch your mouth if I was you, Kitten.”

“Hmm, does it do tricks?” you say with a giggle as you go cross eyed attempting to look at your own mouth. Hongjoong lets out an exasperated growl and pushes you away by the throat.

He turns his attention back to the tower on the table and seals his fate for his turn.

“Kiss. Hmmm, since I’m the guest tonight, I’m vetoing the majority rules.”

There’s a fire in his eyes as he beckons San over. “San, come here.”

San opens and closes his mouth a few times, thinking of protesting, but heads over to you and Hongjoong on the loveseat.

Hongjoong stands just before San reaches him, and grabs San by the shirt and aggressively throws him onto the seat next to you. He knows you’re just as riled up as he is, and he’s gonna make you watch. Payback is a bitch. Hongjoong perches himself onto San’s lap and you and Wooyoung exchange shocked glances.

Hongjoong wraps his arms around San’s neck and begins lapping and leaving hot, wet kisses from his neck, to his ear, along his sharp, defined jawline, until he makes it to San’s lips. San is losing any ounce of control as he grabs Hongjoong’s tiny waist, as Hongjoong begins grinding against him, seeking the slightest bit of friction to help his raging hard on. San and Hongjoong are a mess of teeth, tongue, saliva, and throaty moans, and you’re convinced if Hongjoong was pantless, they would absolutely be fucking each other right here in front of you and Wooyoung.

Nothing can hide just how aroused you are at this point, a wet patch soaking through your sweatpants. Wooyoung doesn’t seem to be faring any better. You know how much he enjoys watching, so this is torture for him. Hongjoong finally parts from San, resting their foreheads together with a breathy ‘fuck’, and Wooyoung lets out a low whine.

“Haha, that’s karma for you two” San grins, looking at you and Wooyoung.

“That’s so unfair” you squeak out.

Hongjoong slips off of where he was perched on San’s lap, allowing him to return to his very horny boyfriend on the opposite couch. Hongjoong notices the wet spot you’re currently dealing with and shows a toothy smile.

“Judging from that nice wet spot, I bet you thought that shit was cute, huh?” throwing your words back at you.

“Fuck you, Joong.”

“Oh, you will.”

You shoot him daggers as you go to pull yet another block from the dwindling tower.

“Strip and sit on someone’s lap for a turn. Really guys?” you whimper.

“Yes, really. And me and Youngie have already decided whose lap that’s gonna be. Come here, pretty.” San motions you over. “Any objections, Joong?”

Hongjoong is balling up his fists so hard that his white knuckles are showing through his meticulously tattoos hands.

“Nope, none at all” venom seeping through his clenched teeth.

San and Wooyoung are fully prepared for what you’re wearing underneath your baggy clothes. Hongjoong, on the other hand, has no idea, and his dick is already leaking profusely. He throws his head back and squeezes his eyes shut, trying to wait out your turn.

“Come on babe, lose the clothes” Wooyoung provokes.

You swiftly remove your sweatshirt and sweatpants and toss them aside. In nothing but your skimpy leather harness, that leaves the best parts of you completely exposed, you settle yourself onto San’s waiting lap. Your soaked pussy is already leaving a mess on San’s pants, and feeling his hard dick underneath you is doing nothing to help matters.

“Joong-ah” San coos at Hongjoong who still hasn’t taken a glance in your direction. “Come on. Look at how pretty Y/N is” San purrs right next to your ear, making you clench around nothing.

Hongjoong lifts his head from its resting place, eyes still tightly shut as he rubs his face with his hands in frustration. He drops his hands from his face as he hesitantly begins to open his eyes, letting out a long, deep breath in the process. The second his eyes land on you, every bit of sanity he was holding on to has dissipated. His dark eyes are ablaze, and he’s licking his lips furiously with his pierced tongue. His decorated hands head for his neatly styled locks and he begins pulling at them in want. No. NEED. He needs to taste you, to feel you. IMMEDIATELY.

“Fuck, Y/N. Are you trying to kill me?” Hongjoong says with the neediest whine you think you’ve ever heard come from a man.

Now that Hongjoong is focused on you, in an attempt to add fuel to both yours and Hongjoong’s fire, San places feather light touches across your body. Ghosting his fingers up and down your arms, your thighs, your sides, your neck. You shiver, despite the heat coursing through you.

“Shit, my lap is wet” San moans out, making eye contact with Hongjoong over your shoulder.

Hongjoong’s forearms are resting across his thighs, hands folded together, and if looks could kill, San would be a dead man. Envy is pouring off of Hongjoong in waves, and something about that is insanely fucking attractive to you. Wooyoung is whining and whimpering next to you and San, desperate for a tinge of attention.

San cups his boyfriend’s dick, straining desperately against his tight jeans. “Be a good boy, and be patient.”

“Ok, my turn” San says, completely unphased by the death glare given by Hongjoong.

He contemplates for a minute on which block to pull. He pulls his choice and the tower threatens to fall, but his quickness prevents the catastrophe.

“Take a shot, simple enough. Y/N, will you pour me one?” You slide off of San’s lap, onto your knees in front of the table to pour the shot, Hongjoong’s eyes following your every move.

San unconsciously clears his throat, yanking Hongjoong from his thoughts of you on your knees for him. Hongjoong glances at the man across from him, only to see the ever present dark patch now covering San’s lap from your leaking pussy.

You place yourself back into San’s lap, handing him the shot that he downs in one quick swallow, burning be damned. Hongjoong is running the barbell in his tongue across his teeth, giving himself anything to focus on but the sting of jealousy bubbling under his skin.

“It’s your turn, pretty,” San directs at Wooyoung. Wooyoung takes his pick, the tower is almost useless at this point, and you know at your turn, this thing is definitely crumbling.

Wooyoung pulls ‘kiss’ and needily engulfs San’s lips, the latter swallowing Wooyoung’s moans and gasps. They disconnect with a wet smack, saliva still connecting them until San licks his lips. “My needy boy,” San’s smooth voice says to Wooyoung.

Hongjoong is up next, beyond ready to be completely finished with this game of pure torture and takes the last logical option to keep the tower at bay. He doesn’t even bother reading the block aloud, fearful his voice will betray the possessiveness he’s trying to hide at watching you on San’s lap, reveling in his touches. He simply tosses the block on the table and strips down to his boxers.

“Ah, lose pants,” a devilish smirk taking over San’s features.

Your mouth is watering. You can see the imprint of Hongjoong’s huge, thick cock begging to be freed. You swallow hard and lick your lips, trying your best not to drool at the sight.

It is again your turn and you have no possible way of not knocking down the tower. You attempt anyways, choosing one from the middle, and pull the block out halfway before all remaining pieces tumble down onto the table.

“HA! You have to sit in someone’s lap for the rest of the game,” Wooyoung shrieks.

“I’m already in San’s lap though?” Hongjoong shoots you a look that you can immediately decipher.

“No, no babe. You have to sit in someone else’s. San, send her over to Joong.”

San pats your strap covered hip, silently ordering you to stand. You stand, but hesitate to head over to Hongjoong, the glint in his eyes enough to send your full body into a mess of goosebumps. Wooyoung begins resetting the tower as you take slow, calculated steps towards a very angry, very horny Hongjoong. As you reach him and turn to sit in his lap, he grips your hips with such strength, you know it will leave bruises later, and you yelp as he pulls you down onto him.

Wooyoung almost has the Jenga game ready to play again, but you decide now is a good time to test just how far Hongjoong’s sanity has gone by wiggling your ass just slightly against his throbbing dick. He bites down onto the flesh of your shoulder hard, leaving a deep indent of his perfect teeth and you let out something between a sigh and a moan at the mixture of pain and pleasure.

“You know what, fuck this!” Hongjoong finally lets his resolve break, and Wooyung and San jump at his sudden outburst. “I’m done with this fucking game.”

He stands the both of you up and roughly flings you over his shoulder and makes his way to your room.

“Joong, what are you doing?” You protest, hands flailing, trying to find some form of stability.

“What I should have done when I first got here, instead of playing that damn game. You think it’s fun to tease, Kitten? Just you wait.”

“Haha, oh shit. She’s in trouble,” Wooyoung says to San, failing miserably to hold in his laughter.

You reach your room and Hongjoong swiftly places you down and slams the door and clicks the lock in place. He turns to you, features insanely feral, grabs you around your throat, just enough to catch you off guard and pins you against the door. He places hot, messy kisses up your neck to you ear.

“I need to know that you fully consent to what is about to take place, Y/N.” You hum your approval in response. He nips the lobe of your ear, “I need words, Kitten.”

“Yes, Joong. Please,” you manage between pants.

“Mm, no baby, tonight it’s ‘Captain’” he growls as he forcefully slides his leg in between yours.

You grind hard against his thigh as he’s kissing you like his life is dependent on it, hand still wrapped neatly around your throat. The mix of his lip and tongue piercing as he’s tongue fucking your mouth makes your pussy throb.

“Look at you, already a fucked out mess and you haven’t even gotten my cock yet” his whispers against your lips.

“Jump” he demands, and you do as told, and he grips you tight as you wrap legs around his tiny, slutty waist.

He carries you to your bed and with no regard for safety, tosses you onto it. He pulls you to the edge of it, his arms wrapped around your thighs, as you squeak at the sudden movement.

“You enjoy teasing, huh, Y/N?” he grits out as he rolls his rock hard cock against you, drenching his thin boxers in your juices.

He kneels before you as his hot breath tickles your core. “Two can play that game, Kitten.”

“Hongj-!” A sharp slap, followed by a bite to your inner thigh springs a low grunt from you and stops his name from escaping your lips.

“How quickly you forget, gorgeous. I told you, it’s Captain.”

You prop yourself onto your forearms and with one arm, your hand grips his dark locks with an unnecessary amount of force, trying to guide his face to your dripping pussy.

“Captain, please” you whine needily. He removes your hand from his hair.

“Where has that cocky little attitude gone, Y/N, hmmm?” he mocks you, looking at you from between your legs, eyes hazy behind his long, pretty eyelashes. “Keep your hands to yourself unless I tell you otherwise. What’s your safe word, Kitten?”

“Utopia” you manage through bated breath.

Once he gets that final piece of information, he begins nipping the flesh of your thigh from your knee, almost to your throbbing heat, very slowly. You lay yourself back down as you fist the sheets in an effort not to place your hands on that beautiful man, who is determined to take you apart piece by piece. You feel his ministrations stop for a few moments, and you think you have a moment to catch your breath. Before you can take a full breath of air, his hot, wet tongue delves past the strap barely covering your dripping cunt. He groans as the taste of you explodes on his tongue.

He rests his head against your thigh for a moment and sucks in a few deep breaths. “Fuck Kitten, you taste so good. Been dreaming about this for months. It's seriously been fucking with my head, you have no idea what you do to me.”. You stare down your body at him, trembling at the dark look he returns as he leans in again and drags the hard ball of his tongue piercing between your slick swollen folds.

Your head falls back and you arch as the jewel teases over your clit. He hums and groans as he explores you, his hands holding your thighs open in a bruising grip. “Fuck Y/N the things I want to do to you,” he groaned against you, the vibrations of his raspy voice against your core driving you wild.

“C-Captain, please!” you whine.

“Mm, what is it Kitten?” he asked, nipping at your thigh with sharp teeth. “Am I making you feel good, baby?”

“Yes…but please let me touch you,” you beg.

He reluctantly leaves his spot from the floor and towers over you as you scoot back to give him room between your legs on the bed. You instinctively wrap your legs around him as he grabs your hands and runs them over his body. He presses his body further into you and nips against the soft flesh of your neck.

“Hmmm, you think you deserve to touch?”

“Please, I’ll be good” you whimper in desperation.

“Then go on baby, make your Captain feel good.”

That was all the permission you needed before you wrapped your mouth around one of his pierced nipples, the metallic taste causing you to hum against him. You lick and suck his sensitive bud, also mixing in a graze of your teeth every so often. You make sure to give his other perky nipple attention as well, lightly rubbing your thumb across it. After a while, you switch sides, making sure each side receives equal care. Hongjoong lets out little pants at the feeling. He swears he could cum just from this alone.

Patience wearing thin, he grips your hair and tugs you off of his nipple with a wet pop, a string of spit still connecting you. He takes in your fucked out expression and before you can complain at the loss of something in your mouth, he returns the same favor to you. He bites and licks and sucks and pinches until you are a blubbering mess under him, back arching at an impossible angle.

“Awww, look at you crying, Y/N. We’re just barely getting started” he mocks as he gently cups your face, wiping the tears that have managed to escape.

“Captain, please! I- I need…” you say between gulps of air.

“You need what, Kitten? I thought I told you to use your words?” he grins at you with a raised eyebrow.

He’s enjoying just how much you can’t form a coherent sentence. You place your arm over your eyes to try and hide just how much he’s affected you. Although it’s absolutely pointless, because he knows. And he’s ready to break you.

While you’ve had your eyes covered, trying to regain control of your breathing, and give Hongjoong a proper response, he is now fully naked in all his glory, standing at the foot of the bed.

“I need you” you whine helplessly.

“Oh, you can have me, baby” lust dripping from his voice as he leans over you to take your arm away from your face. He kisses you, aggressive and hungry, and when he goes to pull back, you chase after his lips.

Now that you’re fully sitting up, and actually see Hongjoong, the sight you came face to face with had you salivating and ready to devour him whole. His hard cock and flushed red tip leaking precum, and just as pierced as the rest of his body. 8 delicately placed and fitted barbells, creating his Jacob’s ladder, and a Prince Albert decorating his tip. Your tongue tingles with a need to have him in your mouth. You lick your lips a let out a hushed ‘fuck’.

“Someone likes what they see, do they?” he says, a cocky smirk playing across his face.

“God. Fuck! Captain.. I need it.” You’re so desperate to have your mouth, your hands, your pussy, around his huge, thick, pretty length. You slide off the bed and you immediately drop to your knees on the plush carpet in front of him.

“Such a good girl, so eager.” He takes your chin between his thumb and index finger, guiding you to look at him. “As hungry as you are for my cock, you need to be careful, Kitten. Do you understand?” You nod your head and he grips your chin a little tighter.

“Yes! Yes, Captain!” you blurt out before he can render you the reminder.

“Then go ahead and satisfy your appetite, baby.”

He lets go of your chin and your hand makes quick work of spreading his precum, slicking up his dick. He throws his head back in pleasure, finally getting a bit of friction. You place feather light kisses up each side of his length, and a few well calculated ones against his hips. His cock twitches, leaking out another drop, begging to be swallowed, and you smile into his skin. He feels your smile and he entangles his fingers in your hair and pulls you back from his hips. He tugs your hair hard enough that you are forced to make eye contact with the absolute demon right now that is Kim Hongjoong.

“I’m getting tired of you being a little cock tease, Kitten. Suck me like you’re starved, or I finish myself off on my own in front of you, and walk out, leaving your pussy dripping and empty. Or maybe I could go ask San and Woo for some help. I know they would be more than happy to.”

As much as the brat in you wanted to test that, the look in his eyes told you he was being serious, and your hole was begging for attention.

You run your hot, wet tongue on the underside of his shaft, paying special attention to each ‘rung’ of his ladder, up to his flushed red pierced tip and lap up the pearl of precum that has settled there. You finally take him into your mouth with a renewed fervor and the moan he lets out is purely pornographic.

“That’s a good girl” he pants, grabbing your hair into a makeshift ponytail. The praise makes you dizzy and as much as you want to deep throat his cock, he never lets you take him in too far in fear that he could cause some damage.

You make up for that by making it extremely messy for him, allowing every drop of spit you can manage to coat him. The drool is dribbling from the sides of your mouth, and dripping off his dick onto the carpet underneath him. You can feel him throbbing in your mouth, and by the grunts and small moans you can tell he’s close.

Before he lets himself give into ecstasy, he gently and reluctantly forces himself from your skilled mouth and tongue. He takes one look at you and has to grab the base of his cock to stop himself from tipping over the edge. You’re looking up at him with big doe eyes, mouth still slightly open, and your chin and chest soaked from the show you put on for him.

“You just sucked my fucking soul out through my dick. Fuck” he lets out in disbelief while he attempts to even out his breathing.

You stand on shaky legs, and wrap your arms around him to reach behind and grab his tight, round ass and pull him flush against you. You place little bites into the sensitive flesh of his neck, licking after each one.

His hums of pleasure spur you on, until you can’t even take the torture anymore and you whisper against the shell of his ear.

“Please fuck me, Captain. It’s so wet for you.”

You bring one of his hands right to your sopping pussy and begin fucking yourself against it, hoping he’ll give you what you want. He groans, long and low, at the slick now covering his hand, and without warning shoves two fingers inside of your needy hole. You let out a silent scream at the euphoria of something filling you after so long.

“You want my cock? Beg for it, Kitten.”

He continues to fuck into you with his delicate but precise fingers, the wet sloshing of your pussy and your elevating moans filling the room. He sucks deep purple marks into the skin of your neck and chest. The bratty side is winning for the moment, you refusing to beg for him. His fingers find your sweet spot and curve into it, causing you to almost crumble to the floor.

“Come on, beg for it, baby. I can tell you’re close, you’re about to take my damn fingers off with how hard you’re clenching them. So bratty, that you won’t even beg to get your greedy hole stuffed with my cock, hmm? You don’t need my fingers then, either.”

He promptly removes the fingers that were inside, abusing the spongy spot inside of you, and you do indeed crumble to the floor this time.

He looks down at you, the start of tears forming in your eyes from the sudden denial of release, and licks his fingers, being sure to drag his pierced tongue in between them.

“P-please, Captain. Please!” you stutter out, worried that if you don’t, he might really not let you cum tonight.

“Please, what?” he asks sharply, eyebrow raised, still cleaning his fingers from your arousal.

“Please fill me with your cock and fuck me dumb. Make me cum on it. Please, please, please!”

“Bed. Now. Face down, ass up. And I hope you know, I’m taking no pity on you. The amount of teasing I’ve endured from you tonight doesn’t deserve it. Playing with San and Woo in front of my face? Dressing like a little slut? Do you know how insane that makes me? I’m gonna make sure I’m the only thing you think of. Only me.”

His possessiveness only mildly scares you, but you’re too far gone to think about anything else but him fucking your brains out.

“Only you, Captain. Only need you.”

You feel the bed dip behind you, and hear the loud slap before your brain registers the hot sting on your ass. You groan as he places another on the opposite cheek to match, your heated skin tingling as the pain morphs to pleasure. He continues his assault on your ass, voice a deep growl.

“You wanted to piss me off, didn’t you? You wanted me to be rough, hmm?”

All you can do is sigh and whimper in agreement.

He kneads your burning cheeks before running his hands up to your waist and grabs your hips with a bruising grip. He ruts his dick against you, coating it in your wetness, but being careful not to give you what you truly desire.

“Don’t tease, Captain.”

“Don’t tease? You mean don’t do to you what you’ve been doing to me all fucking night?”

He removes his hands from your hips, and one snakes up your body to pinch a sensitive nipple, and the other goes straight for your clit, rubbing purposeful patterns into the bundle of nerves. You jolt at the rush of pleasure and he hums in approval.

“You really are so sensitive, Kitten.”

He dips two fingers inside of your pulsing pussy, and you immediately tighten around them. The heel of his palm is still giving your clit just enough friction. The fire in your gut is increasing at an alarming rate and he can feel your spasms around his fingers, and your legs trembling just slightly, and he knows you’re so close.

“C-Captain. Fuck, I’m so close. Please.. don’t stop!” you plead.

“Oh, baby, I know. Like I can’t feel you throbbing around my fingers, Kitten.” his condescending tone almost pushing you over the edge immediately. Except right before the knot in your stomach snaps, he stops.

“Fuck!” You let out a strangled sob at the second denial of pleasure.

He chuckles as your frustration grows, knowing he is fully enjoying what he’s doing to you.

“Don’t act like you don’t want my pussy just as much as I want your cock” you choke out into the pillow below you.

“Mouthy are we?” He lands another harsh slap on your ass. A hand flies into your hair and tugs, maneuvering your head to the side, so he can get a better look at your flustered face.

“Oh trust me, I do. But my will is much stronger than yours, clearly. I can do this all night.”

He definitely doesn’t want to, but he can. He’s so ready to be buried deep inside you, but he doesn’t want to give you the satisfaction quite yet.

He leans over you to place hot, needy kisses over your back and shoulders, and his hands are back to play with your hard buds, rolling them between his fingers.

“Captain, fuck. P-please just fuck me already. I’m -I’m losing my fucking mind.” Your final plea before you really do lose it.

“Aww, how can I say no when you asked so nicely?”

He straightens himself up and pulls your sore ass cheeks apart, watching your wetness drip out of you as you flutter around nothing in anticipation. “Shit, you’re so wet for me. Gonna drown Captain’s dick, hmm baby?”

“Y-yes. God, yes.” you manage, barely above a whisper.

He teases his pierced tip at your entrance for just a moment, and groans at the slickness. Before you can voice your displeasure at the lack of dick filling you, he very slowly pushes himself into you. So slowly that you can feel every inch, every thick vein, and every single piercing finally engulfed in your tight heat. So slowly, so he can appreciate watching himself disappear and you stretching around his cock.

When he bottoms out, you both let out a lewd moan along with a breath neither of you knew you were holding. His long, thick cock is filling you perfectly and you’re fisting the sheets, trying to get used to the stretch. He’s still, brows furrowed in pleasure, needing to give himself a moment before he moves, or he will cum. Very quickly, and very hard.

“Damn, your pussy fits my cock so nicely. So beautiful and tight.”

You reflexively squeeze him at the words, and he throws his head back with a guttural moan. You’ve had enough of him being still, enough of his teasing, enough of not being fucked into the mattress, so you begin to fuck youself back onto him.

“Just so fucking impatient, aren’t you, Kitten?” He grunts through clenched teeth.

In a matter of seconds, he’s thrusting to meet your movements, pounding into you hard. His pierced dick is dragging against your walls in just the right way, a feeling you’ve never felt, but it’s all you’ll ever think about now.

The sloshing sound of your pussy, the slapping of wet skin against skin, and moans from him, and whimpers from you fill the room. The Prince Albert is hitting your sweet spot with every deliberate thrust of his hips. The Jacob’s ladder adding an extra layer of pressure to everything. You are whimpering and whining and drooling into the pillow below you. Hongjoong is panting and groaning, admiring how your juices coat his dick with a beautiful shine.

“Nng, Captain, it’s so good! God, fuck me harder.”

“Harder? You want me to just ruin this pussy for anyone else, don’t you?”

“Please, please, please!”

“Can’t say no with you begging me so pretty, baby.”

His thrusts do indeed get harder, every drag of his dick allowing that jewelry to make magic and hitting right where you need it, and kissing your cervix in the process too. The heat in your belly is spreading like wildfire, and you want it to be extinguished in the form of finally being able to cum.

Hongjoong can tell you’re teetering right on the edge again. And again, he stops right before you can cum.

“Hold on, just a moment, Kitten. There’s something I have to do.”

“Kim Hongjoong, I swear to fucking god!” Tears are streaming down your face at this point from now being pulled from your orgasm for the third time tonight. You find the strength to push yourself up onto your forearms, catching your breath from dropping from your denied high so quickly.

“Who is Hongjoong, baby?” he lightly giggles as he reaches for his phone on the nightstand, his hard dick still nestled inside of you. He places a FaceTime call, and leans over you to set his phone on the shelf in the headboard.

The call picks up, and it’s San on the other end. Your mouth drops in shock.

“I just wanted you to see me ruin her for the shit she’s pulled tonight.” Hongjoong says simply.

“Looks like we both had the same idea in dealing with our brats tonight.”

You watch San moving around, clearly trying to find somewhere to set his phone, and when he leans back from in front of his camera, there’s Wooyoung. In the same state you are. You’re both matching positions, fucked out faces, and tear ridden cheeks.

There’s a silent exchange between San and Hongjoong, but by watching San on Hongjoong’s phone you can definitely tell they’re communicating something.

“Look at you two, so pretty for us.” San coos.

In perfect sync, both San and Hongjoong reach under you and Wooyoung, placing their hands on your throats and pushing you up to sit on your knees, backs flush to their chests.

“We’re all going to watch you two fall apart on our cocks. How’s that sound?” the mischief thick in Hongjoong’s voice.

You and Wooyoung both let a small whimper escape as you make eye contact with each other, knowing you’re absolutely fucked. Hongjoong fits even more snug inside you from this angle and it has you gasping for breath, and dropping your head.

“Youngie, you’re gonna watch Y/N, and Y/N you’re gonna watch Youngie. Understood?” San says with authority that makes both you and Wooyoung shiver.

Wooyoung immediately answers with a soft ‘yes’. You, however, are silent for a beat too long for Hongjoong’s liking, and he clutches your face, lifting you head to look at San and Wooyoung through the lit up screen.

“San asked you a question, Y/N. I believe he expects an answer” he snarls in your ear.

“Y-yes, San.” you breathe out.

“If only she was half as behaved as Youngie, she could have cum already. Three times.”

You knit your eyebrows together in irritation, remembering how many times you've been denied your release, and at the fact that Hongjoong’s dick is sitting heavily inside of you, but he’s not moved an inch since he and San have co-conspired against you and Wooyoung.

San laughs loudly at Hongjoong’s statement.

“You think my little Woo here is behaved? You think he’s got my cock in his tight ass, and his dick pretty and leaking, and tears running down his face because he’s been a good boy? You forget, he was being just as much of a tease as Y/N was tonight, Joong.”

“Shit. Woo looks pretty like that” you mumble. Hongjoong definitely still manages to hear you.

“I agree, Kitten. And so do you. Isn’t that right, Woo?”

“So fucking pretty” Woo huffs.

“Think it’s time we teach them a lesson, San?”

You see the devilish grin appear on San’s face and you know Hongjoong has one to match.

Hongjoong thrusts into you incredibly hard, and you choke on a sob as the wind is knocked from your lungs. If it hadn’t been for his pretty tattooed hand around your throat, you would have fallen forward, face first into the bed.

He continues his relentless abuse on your pussy, your slick dripping down your thighs and making a puddle on the sheets below. His pierced tip hitting your sweet spot, and the others raking your walls with each well placed snap of his hips. The noises he’s eliciting from you have become very loud and very lewd. He lets go of your neck and with the next thrust that gives him an opportunity to shove his fingers into your parted mouth, he does just that.

“Suck ‘em, baby. Make ‘em nice and wet for me.”

You give his fingers the same attention you gave his dick earlier, spit bubbling at the corners of your mouth, cascading down your chin and chest. His unoccupied hand goes to tease a nipple, collecting some of your saliva along the way to make it wet. Your eyes flutter shut for a brief moment at the pleasure lighting every nerve in your body on fire.

“S-Sannie, please. I-I can’t. Too much, need to cum!” Woo’s high pitched pleas snap your eyes back open. You were supposed to be watching him, and hoped that Hongjoong hadn’t noticed your temporary disobedience.

“You’ll come when I say you can, pretty.” San’s voice is gruff as he ruts into Wooyoung, almost animalistic.

Wooyoung’s precum has left a wet patch on the bed in front of him. San reaches around and grabs Wooyoung’s wet, red, and angry cock, and begins stroking him at a tortuous pace. He places soft kisses along his shoulders and neck. Wooyoung is sniveling as San takes his free hand and wipes the tears streaming down his face.

“Come on, you can take it, baby. Show them what a good boy you are.”

San’s praise and Wooyoung’s sobs made you tighten even more around Hongjoong, releasing sobbing moans of your own against his fingers.

“Such a good girl for me, Y/N. Taking everything I give you. So wet and so tight, just for me, hmm baby?”

He slides his fingers from your mouth, and runs his hand down your stomach, pressing on the bulge there formed by his cock that you’d only just noticed. You can’t even string together enough words right now to form a sentence if you wanted to. Hongjoong hmphs at your inability to answer.

“This is what you wanted right? To be fucked dumb on my cock?” His voice is tight, and from his even faster pace, you can tell he’s close. All you can do is frantically nod at his words.

San looks just as close to cumming as Hongjoong feels. Hongjoong’s hand leaves your stomach and brings it straight to your clit with just the right amount of pressure and pace to have your eyes rolling back and your mind going blank.

“Captain, fuck. I-I can’t. Please. Please let me cum!”

San is vigorously stroking Wooyoung and you can see him struggling against San from his overstimulation. You and Wooyoung are both seconds from cumming and if they don’t let you this time, you’re sure you’re going to pass out. You and Wooyoung flick your eyes back to each other, as San and Hongjoong place a hand on each of your throats, putting just enough pressure to make your heads spin, but not enough that you can’t breathe. They speed up even faster against your clit, and Wooyoung’s dick. Both of your breathing is uneven, chests heaving, and nothing can control the sobs and moans that escape the both of you.

“Cum for me, Youngie.”

“Cum for me, Y/N.”

You and Wooyoung look right into each other's eyes as you convulse and cum around Hongjoong and San’s cocks. You string along a chant of ‘Captain’ and a few choice words as stars dance around your vision as it goes white. Your pulse is pounding in your ears, and the already arousal stained sheets double in their pool of wetness as you squirt. Wooyoung’s garbled moan of San’s name joins yours of the Captain’s as thick, white, seemingly never ending ropes of cum spurt from Wooyoung’s cock.

The sight of you two falling apart for them, had them following seconds behind you. You were a rag doll as this point, as Hongjoong continued to fuck into you, chasing his own pleasure. After a few more quick, sharp thrusts, he cums with a long, whiny moan as he sinks his teeth into your bare shoulder.

San fills Wooyoung’s ass as he cums with a resounding growl, burying his face into Wooyoung’s neck. After a few moments, he pulls out and gently lowers an exhausted Wooyoung into a clean spot on the bed.

Hongjoong does the same with you, and your eyes close as soon as your head hits the pillow. You can hear San and Hongjoong whispering to each other, barely able to make sense of their words. Until you hear “We’ll have to do this again, minus the phones.”

San hums in agreement. “I think that’s an amazing idea, Joong.”

“We’d better go take care of our good little babies. We’ll talk in more detail later, San.” They say their goodbyes and hang up.

Hongjoong grabs the water bottle and fruit snacks from the nightstand next to you.

“Sit up for me baby, you need this.”

He sits in front of you and helps you sit up and unscrews the cap off the water bottle and brings it to your lips. You gulp it down like you’ve been stuck in the desert with no water for 3 days.

“Good girl, eat these too.” he says as he feeds you your favorite fruit snacks. You hadn’t even seen him prepare all of this beforehand, and you smile contentedly as his care.

As your brain clears, you take his hands and interlace your fingers with his.

“That was amazing.”

He cups your face and flashes his toothy grin at you. “I’m glad you enjoyed it. I wasn’t too rough? You’re ok?”

“Joongi, you were perfect. I’m ok, I promise. We put a safe word in place for a reason.”

“Indeed we did.” he laughs lightly. “I’ll be right back, I’m going to go run us a bath, we’re a mess.”

His naked form heads to the en suite bathroom and fills the tub with water just hot enough to relax the two of you, but not enough to be uncomfortable. He pours a splash of lavender oils and bubbles into it and swirls them around.

He returns to you on the bed with a warm washcloth and gently cleans you up a bit before he scoops you up bridal style and carries you to the bath.

He carefully sets you down, letting you test the steadiness of your legs, before he begins ridding you of the body harness. Once he’s finished and tossed it to the side, he lends you his arm so you can step into the bath. You sigh deeply, the hot water relaxing your sore body. Hongjoong clambers in after you and makes himself comfortable behind you.

You rest your head on his shoulder and he circles his arms around your waist as he litters your face and neck with soft, tender kisses. You giggle, and you can feel him smile into one of his kisses.

“You’re perfect, Y/N, do you know that?”

“Nahh, far from it. But you, Kim Hongjoong? You just might be.”

“Pfft, absolutely not, baby. But for you I’d try to be.” He sees the bite mark he left on you and kisses it, satisfied that you’ll have a reminder of him, even if for a little while. “Looks good on you. I’ll be sad when it’s gone.” he says without even thinking.

“You could always make more, you know.”

He blinks and shakes his head. “Sorry, didn’t realize I said that out loud.”

You laugh at his realization. “But you did, and I meant what I said.”

You two fall into deep conversation, talking about dreams and aspirations, what you hope your future to look like, past relationships, family, anything that comes to mind, until the water turns cold. You begin to shiver a bit and that puts Hongjoong into motion.

He climbs out of the tub and you pout and the loss of him around you.

“Come here, it’s cold now, let’s get you into some comfy PJs.”

You take his hand and follow him and he dries you off as best as he can. He dresses you both in a fluffy robe to head back into the room. He urges you to sit on the bed while he rummages through your dresser to find something for you to wear.

“Ah ha! Here we go!” he says triumphantly as he heads to you with a matching purple silk pajama set.

“There should at least be some sweats in there for you that’ll fit that tiny little waist of yours, Captain.” you say playfully. He fishes those out as well, and heads back to you on the bed.

“I’m capable of dressing myself, Joong.” you say through tiny giggles as he helps you into your pajamas.

“Yeah, I know, but like… I just wanted to help. Sue me.” he retorts, acting like he is truly offended.

He gets onto the opposite side of bed and pulls you to him, laying you both down, clutching you tightly to his chest. He tucks you both into your down comforter and nuzzles into your neck.

“So warm.” he whispers into your neck. If he were a cat, you’re damn sure he would be purring right now.

“Hey, so what’s this I heard you talking about with Sannie? Something about doing this again? Without the phones? I was kind of out of it, but I think that’s what I heard?”

“Shit, I definitely thought you were asleep. But I mean, I would like to explore the option, if all parties involved are in agreement.”

“You’ll hear no objections from me!”

Just then your phone dings.

Wooyoungieeee

Holy shit, that was amazing. We should make out and piss them off more often ;)

You type out your response to him rather quickly

I think that might be in the plans, Woo lol

“Well, Woo is down” you show Hongjoong your text from him.

“And clearly so are San and I. So that settles that then. We are absolutely putting down some ground rules for you two naughty brats, though.” he showers your cheek with kisses.

“Ok baby,” he says with a yawn, his hand on your stomach under your pajama shirt rubbing little comforting circles, “I know we’re both exhausted, you especially. Let’s get some sleep. We can talk more about all of that tomorrow.”

“Ok, Joongi. Thank you again for tonight, and thank you for taking care of me.”

“That’s not something you ever have to thank me for, but you are more than welcome, baby.”

You let out a content sigh at the warmth and comfort from Hongjoong wrapped around you. You can hear his breathing slow and even, and that is what finally lulls you to sleep.

#ateez hongjoong #ateez smut #ateez #ateez fanfic #ateez fic #hongjoong x reader #hongjoong x you #woosan #hongjoong #kim hongjoong

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hells-wasabii · 8 months

Note

It may be a little stupid to ask this but

I was wondering if you could do Adam x seraphim fem reader? Which reader is high rank just like Sera and maybe Adam is very lovey dovey toward him and every time she popped out of nowhere and he just had a stupid simp look on his face

( it could be drabble but depend on your choice ^^)

A/N: not stupid at all! I’m posting this one from my phone so I can’t change the color of his name like I usually do, it won’t give me yellow. hope you enjoy!

Character: Adam

Type: Drabble (Adam x seraphim fem!reader)

Oh you were so fucking hot. Like, unfairly hot, Adam decided as he sipped on his straw. His cup was nearly empty, he’d have to get more to drink soon, but that was neither here nor there. That could wait. You were a seraphim, a high ranking one at that, so of course he noticed you. But it was like your mere existence demanded his attention.

He was vaguely aware he was staring, but honestly he couldn’t help it. You usually didn’t come around to this part of heaven, he noted, though it seemed that you had some sort of business with Sera and Emily, as the three of you were deep in a conversation he couldn’t hear. A voice to his left, however, brought him back to reality.

“Sir, we’re needed in the council room. Some of the teams were wanting to review our plans for this year’s… events.” Lute, ever so diligently reminded him. She paused, the wry smile on her helmet grew as she nudged her commander before continuing more casually. “You can drool over your seraphim later.”

This certainly got his attention.

“Oh, shit, right. Yeah, let's get this over with.” Chancing one last look back at you, only to find that this time, you were looking back. You smile, offering a small wave as you watched him leave, doing your best not to giggle when he nearly tripped over his own robes.

The meeting, of course, had been boring as shit. He’d be lying if he said he didn’t nearly fall asleep a couple times. In truth, he couldn’t care about strategy, that was more Lute’s forte. So long as he got to kill some of those demon assholes, he was happy.

But when they exited the council room he was surprised to find you waiting by the doors. Lute, however, merely smiled.

“I’ll leave you two be.” Adam watched as his right hand left, an absolute betrayal. He wasn’t ready yet! But he was Adam! First man! He could totally handle this.

“H-heeeey.” He tried, mentally kicking himself, though you didn’t seem bothered whatsoever.

“Hi.” A fond smile took to your lips that nearly made him melt. Shit, it had been a long time since he had been made to feel like this. “I couldn’t help but notice you staring earlier. I thought I would wait to talk to you.”

Oh he was so fucked.

#hazbin hotel #hazbin hotel x reader #hazbin headcanons #hazbin imagine #adam hazbin hotel #adam x reader

2K notes · View notes

genshinluvr · 1 year

Text

The Fallen Star

Pairings: Various Honkai Star Rail Men x Isekai'd!Reader

Summary: You wake up in a void and see someone towering over you. He's breathtaking and covers the sun and sky. One minute you are talking to him, but then you gain consciousness. You wake up to a silver-haired man giving you (failed) CPR, only to find yourself on the Xianzhou Luofu with four other people who soon later become your (temporary?) traveling companions.

Note: Welcome to my first Honkai Star Rail fanfiction! This work is part of a brand new series called "Brightest Star in the Universe." Yes, it's Isekai like the Genshin fics. This is going to be cross-posted on AO3 as well (like all of my fics). To be honest, I didn't think I was going to be posting a Honkai Star Rail series so soon, but here I am. Since there are unreleased characters in this series (Luocha and Blade), their personalities are going to be a bit out of character. Then again, most HSR men's personalities are going to be out of character for a bit until I'm familiar with all of them. I don't post anywhere else but on Tumblr (Genshinluvr) and on AO3 (Aaliah_exo).

Warnings: Mentions of blood, but it's not bad

Word Count: 8.6k

The last thing you remembered before you woke up was a tall man towering over you, blocking the sun and sky from your view. He had silver-white hair and tanned skin, and his arms were in pieces, gold bleeding through the cracks over his body. He was beautiful, but his beauty intimidated you. The way he gazed at you, his eyebrows furrowed.

You felt yourself tremble beneath his gaze. Who was this man, and why was he bigger than the sun and sky? “Where am I? Who are you?” You whispered, your voice trembling with fear and confusion.

The world around you rumbled, making you wince and look around in panic. It took you a moment to realize that the huge man before you was chuckling. The man gazed at you with amusement before squatting down before you without taking his eyes off of you. Wait, does he even have legs?

“My name is not important, little one,” he replies. “You and I will meet again soon, but for now, it’s time for you to wake up from your slumber.”

You looked at him quizzically before scanning your surroundings. There was no one else but you and him. You and this man were in a vortex of some sort. The light is blocked out by his figure. You pinched yourself and winced in pain. What does he mean by ‘wake up from your slumber?’ Were you not awake the entire time?

You look at the man, only to see that he is still staring at you with an unreadable expression on his face. “What do you mean by that?” You whispered.

The silence in the void is deafening. Even if you whispered, your voice echoed in the abyss. You shifted in your spot before getting up from the ground. You dust your clothes off and gaze at the ginormous man before you, waiting for him to answer. The world around you slowly turns black, and the man nods at you before your vision turns black.

Just as you’re gaining consciousness, you hear voices around you. The voices are muffled, almost as if you’re underwater, and the voices of the people are above you and all over the place. Your ears are ringing, and your limbs feel like lead. You want to open your eyes, but your eyelids feel heavy.

“Are you sure they’re alive?” You hear a girl ask.

You hear a slow sigh coming from your left. “Of course, they’re alive, March. Can’t you see the steady rise and fall of their chest?” the male to your left asks.

“If they’re alive, then why are they not waking up? Aside from being unconscious, of course,” says March.

You feel someone tap your cheeks repeatedly. You groan and try to swat the hands away from your face, only for your hands to fall back to the ground. The girl named March lets out a loud gasp.

The man beside you lets out a sigh. “March, can you go find Mr. Yang? In the meantime, Caelus and I will stand guard and make sure this person is okay,” he says.

‘March’ makes a disgruntled noise before stomping away. Something beneath you shifts, and you open your eyes to see a silver-haired man leaning down, his lips puckering. You open your mouth to say something, but the man covers your mouth with his. You let out a combination of a squeak and a gasp. The silver-haired man backs up and looks down at you with wide eyes, his fringe covering a part of his eyes.

The silver-haired man blushes and clears his throat. “It’s good to see that you’re awake! Ahem… how are you feeling?” He asks.

You swallow the lump in your throat and slowly prop yourself up on your arms, rubbing the back of your neck. “I-I’m fine! Um… that’s an interesting way to wake someone up,” you said, giving the silver-haired man a sheepish smile.

“I was trying to give you CPR, but that didn’t turn out how I thought it was going to,” replies the silver-haired man, his cheeks flushing red. He looks over at the black-haired man with a glare. The man with black hair looks away, his lips pressed into a thin line while his shoulders are shaking. The silver-haired man narrows his eyes at the black-haired man before punching him in the shoulders lightly, causing the man to grunt and let out a cough. Was he laughing? You sit up and look around, dazed and confused about how you ended up on a ship. Wait, is it a ship? Where are you?

You clear your throat and rub your throbbing temples. How did you end up on a ship? Or wherever you are. Gosh, you’re so out of it that you’re having a hard time figuring out where you’re at. You close your eyes, feeling a wave of nausea hit you like a train. One minute you were in a void with an extremely tall man that bleeds gold, and now you’re somewhere with two men at your side. One man is trying to stifle his laughter, while the other is almost as red as tomatoes.

The red-faced silver-haired man clears his throat. “My name is Caelus, and the one that’s laughing beside us is Dan Heng,” Caelus says, nudging Dan Heng beside him with a small glare as if he’s telling Dan Heng to be quiet.

Dan Heng clears his throat before fixing his composure, crossing his arms over his chest. “How are you feeling? You were out cold when we found you on the Xianzhou Luofu,” says Dan Heng, staring at you emotionlessly.

“Other than a slight headache, I’m feeling okay. Confused, but okay nonetheless,” you reply.

The two men stand up while you remain on the floor. You continue to take in your surroundings, eyes focusing on the stars hanging above you and the two men on this…. ship. You’re on a flagship… in space… traveling to who knows where. You look at the men behind you, pointing at your surroundings.

You clear your throat. “So, I was unconscious on the Xianzhou Luofu? That’s how you two found me?” You ask, rubbing your eyes while remaining on the ground. “Huh. How did I end up here?”

Rapid footsteps approach you, Dan Heng, and Caelus. You look up to see a pink-haired girl running toward the three of you, with a brown-haired man following close behind. The pink-haired girl’s eyes light up when the two of you make eye contact. You get up from the ground, dusting off your clothes.

The girl and brown-haired man stop before you. “Oh, goodie! You’re awake this time! I was starting to get worried!” She says, propping her hands on her hips. “Mr. Yang, this is the unconscious person I was telling you about! Well, they’re not unconscious anymore, but we stumbled across them when we split up while trying to look for Kafka.”

The brown-haired man— or Mr. Yang— strokes his chin while analyzing you from head to toe. You’re definitely not from the Xianzhou Luofu, and you’re certainly not from Jarlio-VI.

The man hums before crossing his arms over his chest. “Do you know how you ended up here?” asks Mr. Yang.

You shake your head. “I don’t know how I ended up here. One minute, I was in a void with a man that towered over me, and now I somehow ended up on a ship.” You reply.

Now that you said it out loud, you wouldn’t believe yourself if you were someone else. Would these people believe you? The pink girl hums thoughtfully, tilting her head to the side while gazing at you curiously.

“I’m March 7th, by the way! But you can call me March! This man here is Welt Yang!” She gestures to the brown-haired man beside her. “I’m assuming those two have introduced themselves to you already?”

You nod. “They have! Apologies for not introducing myself earlier, but my name’s [Y/N].” You say, rubbing the back of your neck with a sheepish smile.

You look at your surroundings. While you’re on the Xianzhou Luofu, you’re not entirely sure where you, Dan Heng, Caelus, Mr. Yang (should you call him by his first name or by his last name?), and March are precisely on the ship. Looking at your surroundings, all you see are boxes— you’re assuming they’re cargo of some sort. The air is nice and chilly, causing goosebumps to appear on your arms.

“We have to meet with General Jing Yuan. There are some things we still need to discuss with him,” Mr. Yang says, pulling his phone out to look at the time.

March points at you. “What do we do with [Y/N]? Do we bring them along with us as well?” asks March, looking at Mr. Yang for answers.

Your eyes widen, and you shake your head, waving your hands in front of you. “Oh, no! You don’t have to bring me along with you guys! Plus, you mentioned meeting with a general…. That sounds important, and I don’t want to intrude. After all, I am an outsider and, uh, don’t fit in this situation,” you said.

The five of them were heading to meet with the General of the Xianzhou Luofu. Dan Heng, Caelus, and March ended up stumbling across your unconscious body on the Xianzhou Luofu in an area where there aren’t many people roaming around. You sort of threw them off while they were headed toward their destination. Surely you can’t just tag along with them now, can you?

March huffs and frowns at you. “Hey! You’re not the only one who’s an outsider! The four of us aren’t from the Xianzhou Luofu either!” March interjects, stepping toward you and linking her arm around yours. “Besides! I think you should tag along with us either way! We don’t want to leave you behind, especially when you’re not from the Xianzhou Luofu! You are now a Trailblazer like us!”

Mr. Yang sighs and pushes his glasses up. “Let’s go. We have no time to lose. [Y/N], we’ll talk about this after meeting with General Jing Yuan,” says Mr. Yang, looking in your direction.

You nod and follow after the group, setting off to the location where General Jing Yuan told them to meet.

Upon arriving at the destination, you have concluded that you like the Xianzhou Luofu! Not only is it beautiful and vast, with a nice view of the universe, but you find the citizens of the Xianzhou Luofu interesting, and you’re curious about everything, really.

Now that you think about it, the ship and the people you’re tagging along with feel familiar. You know what this place is; you know it! It’s on the tip of your tongue, but dealing with sudden scenery changes and the brain fog is throwing you off.

The grand doors open, and the five of you step into the room. You look around, eyes wide with wonder and curiosity. Many people are walking in and out of the room, people gathering around in one spot while others are tending to their duties on the ship. Mr. Yang, March, Dan Heng, Caelus, and you approach the white-haired man sitting on a chair. He seems to be occupied with the game of chess. You can’t tell if his blond opponent looks frustrated or focused. His eyebrows furrowed, and his eyes focused on the chessboard before the two of them. Hearing footsteps approaching their direction, the blond boy and white-haired man look at your group.

The white-haired man stands up, looking at the blond boy and nodding. The blond boy gets up from his seat and walks off, looking at your group from the corner of his eyes as he passes the five of you.

“I hope the journey wasn’t too complicated. It’s good to see you all again,” says the white-haired man.

Mr. Yang nods. “General Jing Yuan, it’s nice to see you again. We’re here to discuss the matters you wanted to speak to us about regarding the situation….” Mr. Yang’s voice slowly becomes muffled as you continue to look at your surroundings.

There are holograms of the people, you assume, that work on the Xianzhou Luofu! Holograms! You have never seen a hologram before, and it looks so cool! What was this place called again? You recalled that they were supposed to meet up at the general’s office, but the location was changed. Was the office called the Seat of the Divine Foresight? Although, with the number of people going in and out of the room, it’s certainly not the general’s office. Where in the world are you exactly? Gosh, it’s like you have the name on the tip of your tongue, but it’s not coming out.

“Care to introduce me to your new friend?” General Jing Yuan’s voice pulls you out of your thoughts.

You blink and look up to see General Jing Yuan looking right at you. You freeze in your spot like a deer in headlights, blinking at the white-haired man owlishly. A soft smile appears on his face, a low rumbling coming from his chest. You couldn’t help but feel intimidated by his presence. Such power and authority exude from the man standing before the five of you.

Your face heats up when more people look in your direction. You clear your throat and stand there awkwardly, not sure what to do. Sure, you could introduce yourself to General Jing Yuan, but you were hoping he didn’t notice a new face around the Xianzhou Luofu. You point at yourself dumbly, blinking cluelessly at the man approaching you. Oh gosh, he’s walking toward you.

General Jing Yuan nods. “Yes, I was talking to you. I’ve never seen you around the Xianzhou Luofu, nor have I seen you with Welt Yang and his traveling companions,” says General Jing Yuan, now standing in front of you.

Dear gosh, this man is standing right in front of you. He’s not a hologram. He’s flesh and blood. If you reach out right now, you would be touching him with your hands. You give General Jing Yuan a shy smile, face hotter than ever.

You raise your hand in an awkward wave before introducing yourself. “Hi! I, uh, my name’s [Y/N]! It’s a pleasure to meet you, General Jing Yuan!” You squeak.

General Jing Yuan lets out a hearty laugh. “It’s nice to meet you, [Y/N]. Please, just call me Jing Yuan. No need to call me General— General is merely a temporary title,” says Jing Yuan, giving you a cat-like smile.

Jing Yuan grabs your hand gently and raises your hand to his face before pressing a kiss on your knuckles without breaking eye contact. Dear gosh, it’s like this man wants your face to feel hotter than it already is.

“Since when is he a flirt?” You hear March mutter to Caelus, Dan Heng, and Mr. Yang.

Jing Yuan releases your hand while you stand there awkwardly while tucking your hair behind your ear. You give Jing Yuan a flustered smile before looking away after clearing your throat. Dan Heng sighs while Mr. Yang steps up, grabbing Jing Yuan’s attention. You take a step back and stand between Dan Heng and Caelus, refusing to look at them after feeling intense stares at your head.

“That was something,” Caelus comments, crossing his arms over his chest.

Dan Heng hums in agreement. “It really is, isn’t it? Who knew that the General of the Xianzhou Luofu has such a charm,” Dan Heng comments.

You clear your throat again. “Maybe it’s how people greet on the Xianzhou Luofu!” You say.

March scrunches her nose and shakes her head. “They don’t do that on the Xianzhou Luofu. We’ve visited a couple of times, but not once were we greeted like how the General greeted you, [Y/N],” March teases, giving you a cheeky smile.

While Mr. Yang and Jing Yuan are conversing with each other about the situation, Dang Heng, Caelus, and March would interject here and there while the two are speaking. As usual, since you’re not part of the conversation, you would space out and look at your surroundings. It’s tempting to wander off, but you stay where you’re standing and listen to their conversation.

The doors to the room fly open, and enter a man with long, blond hair and a brown-haired girl with pigtails. The girl looks mildly miffed, while the blond man looks pleased with himself as he follows the girl into the room with a giant casket behind him. You look at the casket in horror and look at Caelus, Dan Heng, and March. The trio did not seem to be phased by the fact that the blond man was carrying around a casket like it was a backpack.

The blond man notices you’re staring at him, and he smiles at you, keeping a firm grip on the casket behind him. “I see you notice the coffin behind me,” he comments.

You nod in response. “Yeah! It’s, uh, hard to overlook it,” you reply.

The brown-haired girl huffs and crosses her arms over her chest with a deep frown on her face. “It’s strange, isn’t it?” asks the girl, looking in your direction.

You blink at her with surprise. “Ah, strange?” You squeak.

What was she talking about? The man carrying a large casket with him, or was there something else you’re missing? After all, she did enter the room with the blond man, looking visibly peeved.

The brown-haired girl drags out a sigh, propping her right hand on her hip. “For a foreign trader like himself to be carrying a casket around so casually,” she replies. “I didn’t think it was a casket until I asked him about it.”

The blond man clears his throat. “This coffin isn't mine, Sushang. I was merely entrusted to take the body back to the Xianzhou Luofu,” the man says casually. “My name’s Luocha. As Sushang said, I am a foreign trader. Currently, I was tasked to return this casket to the Xianzhou Luofu.” He gestures to the casket behind him.

You stare at the casket and then look at the blond man, who raises his eyebrows at you with an amused look. It seems like Luocha knows what you want to ask him. What is in the casket? More importantly, who is in the coffin, and why does he need to deliver it back to the Xianzhou Luofu?

Luocha crosses his arms over his chest. “It’s alright if you want to ask who’s in the coffin. I’ve had a few people ask me the same question while on my journey to the Xianzhou Luofu,” says Luocha, looking at Sushang from the corner of his eyes.

You give Luocha a sheepish smile and shake your head. “No, no! I wasn’t going to ask you that question! I was wondering how you can carry a coffin around for so long without getting tired of it. You would think there would be an easier way to transport a casket,” you say.

You did wonder who was in the coffin. I mean, like Luocha said, he has had a few people ask him who (or what) was in the large casket behind him. As much as you’re curious, you don’t think it would be appropriate to ask since it’s none of your business, and it would be rude to ask.

Sushang looks at you curiously, examining you from head to toe. “You don’t look like you’re from the Xianzhou Luofu. Are you Dan Heng’s newly added traveling companion?” asks Sushang.

You make an uncertain noise, giving Sushang and Luocha a ‘so-so’ gesture. “Kind of! I… I’m not sure if now is the right time to explain the situation,” you murmur, turning to look at your new traveling companions.

March, Dan Heng, and Caelus shrug their shoulders simultaneously. You sigh and turn to look at Luocha and Sushang with a fake smile. Now would be a good time to leave the Xianzhou Luofu, but even if you were to leave the ship, would they (your temporary traveling companions) be okay with you tagging along?

Sushang looks at you curiously. “Oh? Why do you seem uncertain about being their new traveling companions?” Sushang asks.

You press your lips into a thin line and rock back and forth on the balls of your feet. Would this be a good time to tell them (Sushang, Luocha, and Jing Yuan) about your situation? Maybe they’ll know the answer to it! Hopefully, they know the answer! You go on to tell Sushang and Luocha your situation: how you wake up to Caelus giving you CPR, and you find yourself on the Xianzhou Luofu despite not being from the Xianzhou Luofu.

Sushang hums and strokes her chin, squinting her eyes at you while chewing on the inside of her cheek. “Do you have memory loss by any chance?” Sushang asks.

Your gaze falls to the ground after hearing her question. Now that you think about it, the last thing you remembered before waking up was being in the void with a man towering over you. He’s so huge that he covered the sun and sky! Should you mention that to them too? You don’t know the man’s name. He told you his name isn’t important, but you know that’s not the case.

“I guess? I don’t really know how I ended up here, really. The last thing I remembered before waking up was being in a void with this tall person, but then I gained consciousness, and here I am!” You say, shrugging your shoulders.

They all probably think you’re crazy after explaining to them the last thing you saw before waking up to Caelus giving you CPR. You weren’t lying about being in a void with an extremely tall person. Technically, he wasn’t tall— he was a giant. They all look at you like you have just grown a second head.

Mr. Yang walks over to the group and nods at you, Dan Heng, March, and Caelus. “Alright, General Jing Yuan has given me some information on what we need to do. So far, there aren’t many things to check on the Xianzhou Luofu, but we do have to stop by Jarlio-VI per Caelus’ request,” says Mr. Yang.

March looks at Mr. Yang quizzically. “Why stop by Jarlio-VI? We have already completed what we needed to do on Jarlio-VI,” says March, crossing her arms over her chest.

Caelus hands his phone over to March. March grabs Caelus’ phone and skims through the messages on Caelus’ phone. March sighs and nods, handing Caelus back his phone before propping her hands on her hips.

“Well, it looks like we’ll be seeing some familiar faces again!” March announces.

You look at the group cluelessly, rubbing your arm. Does that mean you’ll have to go to Jarlio-VI with the group as well? I mean, there’s nowhere else for you to go, really. The best option is to tag along with the people that found you unconscious.

March nudges you and gestures to follow her and the three men. “Let’s go! I’ll introduce you to Pom-Pom and Himeko! You’ll love them and the Astral Express!” March grins, grabbing your wrist and pulling you along.

The five of you wave to Sushang, Jing Yuan, and Luocha goodbye before walking out of the room. You didn’t know where they were leading you, but you assumed it was to an area where the four of them were dropped off before they found you unconscious on the ground of the Xianzhou Luofu.

Right when the five of you are about to reach your destination (or, that’s what you’re assuming because you’re not familiar with the Xianzhou Luofu, nor are you sure where they’re taking you), a figure swoops in out of nowhere and snatches you from March’s grasp.

Everyone stops in their tracks and turns to look at the person holding you hostage. Your back is pressing against the man’s chest, and you feel the man press his sword up against your neck. March, Caelus, and Mr. Yang glare at the man behind you while Dan Heng looks like he just witnessed someone massacre everyone in his village. You swallow your fear and slowly turn your head to see a man with long, dark hair and red eyes. His eyes are focusing on the people standing in front of the two of you.

“So this is the fallen star Kafka mentioned,” the man mutters, looking down at you.

You blink at the man behind you and look at the others cluelessly. “Who is this man, and what does he mean by that?” You ask.

The man behind you tightens his grip around you, his arm wrapping across your chest while continuing to press the sword against your neck. March glares at the man behind you and seethes with anger.

“Let them go, Blade! Don’t involve them in anything!” March shouts.

Dan Heng takes a step closer toward you and Blade, only for Blade to take a step back, bringing you with him. Blade glares at Dan Heng and the others, pressing the edge of the sword against your neck. You close your eyes and visibly wince when the blade nicked your neck, causing a trail of blood to slowly trickle down. Dan Heng and Caelus glare at Blade, getting ready to step forward, when Mr. Yang grabs onto both of the men’s shoulders, shaking his head.

Blade smirks and chuckles. “I wouldn’t step any closer if I were you. If you want them to come out unscathed, then you will comply with my and Kafka’s orders,” said Blade.

You nudge the man behind you. “What do you mean when you mentioned fallen star? I’m not a fallen star,” you grumble, glaring at Blade from the corner of your eyes. “And for your information, I didn’t come out unscathed.” You gesture to your neck.

One minute you were in a void with an enormous man before you, then you woke up to Caelus giving you CPR on the Xianzhou Luofu, and now you’re being held hostage by a man named Blade on the Xianzhou Luofu. Can this get any worse?

Blade huffs and tightens his grip around you, not taking his eyes off the people standing before you and him. “Two hours before your arrival to the Xianzhou Luofu, Kafka reported a strange light flying across the galaxy. That light was presumed to be a fallen star, and the light led to the Xianzhou Luofu. In case none of you realized it, the fallen star is this one right here,” says Blade, gesturing to you.

You furrow your eyebrows after hearing Blade’s explanation. You have to be honest here; whatever Blade just said to you, Mr. Yang, Dan Heng, Caelus, and March, it sounds ridiculous. You? A fallen star? What does that even mean? You fell out from the sky and somehow ended up on the Xianzhou Luofu? Not only does it sound ridiculous, but it doesn’t seem probable because you didn’t have any markings on you aside from the cut on your neck from Blade’s sword.

You close your eyes and rest your head on Blade’s shoulders, catching him off guard. You turn your head slightly and peek at him. “And what do you and this Kafka person want from me exactly? You make it seem like I’m some rare gem from space, finally crashing and landing somewhere,” you comment.

Blade remains silent, staring down at you while you stare at him in return. It almost seems like he doesn’t have a plan for what to do with you. Other than holding you hostage in front of your (possibly) temporary traveling companions. You frown at Blade after a few minutes of him not responding to your question. You elbow Blade in the gut before pushing his arms off you with a huff, walking away from the man.

You and the others were surprised to see that Blade didn’t retaliate. He seems to be the type that gets set off easily. But since he didn’t slash at you or lash out at you for elbowing him in the stomach and pushing his arms off your person, it genuinely shocked the others. You rub and graze your fingers over the cut on your neck.

You narrow your eyes at Blade and walk over to where the others are standing. March runs up to you to assess the open wound on your neck. March sighs in relief, looking over at Blade with a glare before pulling you to the side while Caelus, Dan Heng, and Mr. Yang deal with Blade to the side.

You watch Blade, Dan Heng, Caelus, and Mr. Yang stand before each other, not saying a word. Their weapons are drawn out, but no one has started anything. They all stand there, staring at each other in silence, while March struggles to pull a bandaid out from her pocket. March hands you the bandaid after successfully grabbing the bandaid.

March turns to look at the four men with one hand on her hip while the other is on your shoulder. “Hey, are you guys just going to stand there and stare at each other all day, or are you guys going to fight it out?” demands March, glaring at the men.

Blade smirks and tightens his grip on his sword. “If that’s what you want, then a fight is what you shall receive,” says Blade.

Blade was about to lunge at the three men before him, but a woman with red wine-colored hair appeared out of nowhere, placing her hand on Blade’s shoulders. Blade stops in his tracks and looks over his shoulders at the woman.

She gives him a smile and chuckles, looking in your direction. “It’s good to see you, little shooting star. I apologize that you had to meet us this way, but our destinies are intertwined no matter where you go and how far we are from each other,” says the woman.

Everyone stares at the woman in silence. Everyone but you seem tensed at her mere presence. She takes her hand off Blade’s shoulders before walking toward your and March’s direction. Caelus and Dan Heng block her way, holding their weapons out in front of them while glaring at the woman.

The woman frowns and looks at Caelus with a pout. Almost like she was mocking him. “Oh, Caelus. Do you not trust me after all we’ve been through?” she asks, crossing her arms over her chest.

March lets out a loud scoff. “Can you blame us for not trusting you after all that stuff you put us through, Kafka?!” March asks, glaring at the red wine-colored-haired woman.

‘Kafka?’ you mouthed to yourself, furrowing your eyebrows. The gorgeous woman is Kafka? Not only was she stunning, but the way she was looking at you was sending chills down your spine. There’s something about her you couldn’t put your fingers on. She seems powerful and the leader of this whole situation. Maybe the word ring-leader would suit her since Blade does follow her orders around like a dog.

Kafka turns around and starts walking away. “Come on, Bladie. It seems like we’ll have to find another time to meet [Y/N] again. For now, let’s part our ways,” says Kafka.

You freeze in your spot and look at Kafka with wide eyes. How in the world does she know your name when you haven’t introduced yourself to Blade and Kafka? Kafka looks over her shoulders and smiles at you before disappearing from everyone’s sight. Blade huffs and puts his sword away, turning around and following after Kafka.

March huffs. “Kafka and her dog are going to search for [Y/N] again. I don’t think it’s safe for them to be alone,” March states, looking at Mr. Yang, Dan Heng, and Caelus. “It’s best they remain on the Astral Express with us until further notice.”

You furrow your eyebrows and give March a questioning look. What does she mean by you remaining on the Astral Express until further notice? Until you find a home somewhere and can finally leave them alone? Where are you going to go? You’re on a ship that’s traversing through space, and now you’re going to be on a train that also travels through space.

“Let’s return to the Astral Express, and then we can talk about it after stopping by Jarlio-VI,” says Mr. Yang.

The five of you continued your way to the area where Dan Heng, Caelus, March, and Mr. Yang were dropped off. You’re kind of excited to step foot on the Astral Express and Jarlio-VI. Mainly Jarlio-VI because of how March described it, along with the stories she told you when she, Caelus, and Dan Heng visited the frozen planet due to the eternal freeze.

A frozen planet sounds interesting because not many things can survive and thrive in such conditions. It makes you wonder if there were any wild animals that roam Jarlio-VI aside from humans and creatures March, Dan Heng, and Caelus passively mentioned. Speaking of creatures the trio mentioned, you’re hoping you won’t have to deal with it or get caught in the crossfire.

Your stay on the Astral Express was short, and you met Pom-Pom and Himeko! They’re very welcoming, and Himeko is like an older sister, and perhaps a mother, figure to you despite you knowing her for less than a few hours. Despite your visitation of the Astral Express being short, you somehow managed to fall asleep while the train was headed to Jarlio-VI.

When you open your eyes, you find yourself in the void again. The very same void you were in before you woke up to Caelus giving you (failed) CPR. You look around, and there is the man towering over you.

You frown at the (gorgeous) man and rub your eyes. “It seems like the only time I’ll see you again is through my dreams, huh? I’m starting to think you’re not real and that you’re a figment of my imagination,” you say, crossing your arms over your chest.

The man chuckles and gazes at you with an amused look on his face. Damn, his smile is breathtaking, but it’s too bad he’s not real. Or at least that’s what you’re assuming. The man beckons you to come closer. You push yourself off the ground and walk toward him while scanning your surroundings.

You weren’t just in a void, but there were tiny stars sparkling around you and the massive man before you. The man holds his hand out, placing them before you. You stare at his hands questionably before stepping on his hand, letting him lift you to his eye level.

“We will meet very soon, little one. Now is not a good time to meet,” he says.

You frown at the man, letting out a huff before crossing your arms over your chest like a petulant child. “No matter what you tell me, I’ll always assume you’re a figment of my imagination. At least tell me your name,” you murmur, looking at him from the corner of your eyes.

The man smiles at you and nods. “My name’s Nanook and I promise we will meet in person soon. For now, this is the only way I will be able to communicate with you--- through your dreams.” He caresses your hair with his index finger.

You stare at Nanook without saying a word, still not convinced that he’s real. Nanook sighs and gives you a small smile. From a distance, you hear someone call your name. You look away from Nanook and begin searching for the voice. Nanook sighs, putting you back on the ground and smiling at you almost sadly. You’re about to ask him what was wrong when the world around you slowly fades away.

“Wake up!”

Your eyelids snap open, and you sit up, rubbing the sleep from your eyes. March sighs and collapses across from you while Caelus and Dan Heng stand to the side with unreadable expressions on their faces.

March huffs and narrows her eyes at you. “Finally! I’ve been trying to wake you up for the past ten minutes!” March says.

You blink at March and look at Dan Heng and Caelus, who nods in response. How long have you been asleep? March was trying to wake you up for ten minutes, but it didn’t feel that long. You were with Nanook in your dreams for what felt like three minutes or less. Were you asleep for that long?

“We’re arriving at Jarlio-VI very soon. Gepard and Sampo will be meeting us at the Administrative District,” says Dan Heng.

Caelus and Dan Heng walk off, leaving you and March alone on the couch. Caelus nudges Dan Heng, looking at you from over his shoulders and then at the black-haired man worriedly. Dan Heng chews on the inside of his cheek, leaning against the wall while waiting for the Astral Express to reach its destination.

“You heard that, right? [Y/N] mumbling Nanook’s name in their sleep,” says Caelus.

Dan Heng nods. Before Dan Heng can reply, the Astral Express comes to a complete stop, and Pom-Pom announces the Astral Express’s arrival to Jarlio-VI from where they were standing. You and March get up from the couch and stretch your arms and legs.

You rub the base of your neck and wince when you feel it strain. Great, now you have a crick in your neck from sleeping on the couch in the Astral Express for who knows how long. March loops her arms around yours, dragging you out of the Astral Express with Dan Heng and Caelus following behind.

March looks over her shoulders, shouting, “Come on, Mr. Yang! We don’t have all day!” March continues to pull you along to the Administrative District with a wide smile on her face while you’re trying your best to keep up with the hyperactive girl.

Himeko crosses her arms over her chest and taps on her chin. “You feel it too, right?” Himeko asks, looking over at the brown-haired man.

Mr. Yang raises his eyebrows at Himeko, waiting for her to clarify. Himeko chuckles, shaking her head, looking at the entrance of the Astral Express, where you, March, Dan Heng, and Caelus ran out. Technically, you were dragged out of the Astral Express by March.

“The sense of familiarity with [Y/N]. Almost like we know them despite never meeting them. This connection….” Himeko trails off, humming softly. Himeko chuckles and looks at Mr. Yang, gesturing for him to follow after you, March, Dan Heng, and Caelus.

Back to you and the trio, the three of you walk around the Administrative District searching for these Gepard and Sampo people. From what you have been told, Gepard is the little brother of Serval, and Sampo is some con artist the trio met in the underworld. You’re looking forward to meeting Gepard and Sampo! They sound like interesting people, especially Sampo.

“Fams! There you guys are!” You hear someone call from a distance.

The four of you turn in the direction of the voice to see an indigo-haired man and a blond man approaching your group. The indigo-haired man smiles widely and waves at the four of you. When you and the indigo-haired man make eye contact, his eyes seem to light up, and the smile on his face becomes wider before he sprints in your and the trio’s direction.

The green-eyed indigo-haired man and the blond man with blue eyes stop before your group, looking at you curiously. You can’t help but feel self-conscious under their gaze. Their clothes are interesting, but it looks nice on them. Wait, are you staring at them? You snap out of your thoughts and look away, trying to act like you weren’t staring at them.

“Caelus, March, Dan Heng, care to introduce us to your new traveling companion?” asks the blond man, staring you down with those blue eyes of his.

March smiles widely and nods before happily introducing you to the two men before you. You smile at them politely and wave at them. The two men introduce themselves to you not long after, and you are glad their names are easy to remember because you’re not the best at remembering the names of the people you have just met.

“Not to come off as rude or anything, but you don’t seem to be from here,” Sampo says, looking at you curiously.

Gepard looks at Sampo from the corner of his eyes before shaking his head. “Sorry if what he said came off as rude. Sampo has no manners,” Gepard mutters, crossing his arms over his chest.

You laugh and wave your hand in front of you. “No, no, it’s fine! Sampo asked a genuine question, and I’m sure there are other people that are curious as well,” you say, giving Sampo and Gepard a small smile.

You and the others walk around the Administrative District while you tell Gepard and Sampo the situation. You woke up on the Xianzhou Luofu, unsure of how you ended up on the ship. Prior to gaining consciousness, you were in a void with Nanook. Of course, you didn’t tell Sampo and Gepard about you knowing Nanook’s name, only how he’s a tall figure that covered the sun and sky.

While you tell the two men your situation, Mr. Yang ends up catching up to your group, and the seven of you stop near the theater. Sampo and Gepard didn’t make a comment on your sudden appearance on the Xianzhou Luofu, but they have tried asking you a few questions.

“Everything is starting to feel familiar, but I can’t put my finger on it.” You murmur, scanning your surroundings.

Belobog is beautiful and cold, but there’s something unnerving about it. On the other hand, the Xianzhou Luofu doesn’t feel eerie or ominous. The others look at you curiously, wondering what you mean when you say everything is starting to feel familiar.

Sampo, being the man that he is, slides in front of you and gives you a charming smile before flicking his bangs away from his eyes. “Pardon me saying this so suddenly, but I’m sensing you feel a connection between us?” asks Sampo, gesturing between you and him.

You blink at Sampo. “Yes,” you reply slowly. “I guess that’s a better way of putting it.”

Sampo looks at you with wide eyes, his cheeks tinting pink. Sampo clears his throat and tucks an invisible strand of hair behind his ears. “Oh? So you do feel that connection between us!” Sampo grins.

Your head is beginning to hurt, and there’s a low ringing in your ears that’s gradually getting louder and louder. You tried to act normal and playfully scoffed at Sampo’s comment before walking to the nearest bench near the theater. When you walk off with March at your side, Gepard looks at Sampo while Dan Heng, Mr. Yang, and Caelus trade glances at each other.

Gepard hums, furrowing his eyebrows. “So, you feel that too?” Gepard mutters.

Sampo does a double take and looks at Gepard with wide eyes. “What do you mean by ‘too’? I was talking to [Y/N], not you!” says Sampo, huffing.

Dan Heng, Caelus, Mr. Yang, and Gepard stare at Sampo with blank expressions. Sampo blinks at them and laughs nervously, rubbing the back of his neck. Gepard sighs, trying to ignore the strange pull in his chest.

“You’re not the only one that feels that connection, you know?” Gepard hisses, glaring at Sampo.

Sampo’s eyes widen, and he holds his hands up in front of him, laughing. “Whoa, there, buddy. Listen, I don’t know what you’re trying to imply, but I don’t feel a connection with you! I feel a connection with [Y/N], but certainly not you! Plus, why would I, Sampo Koski, be with someone that constantly tries to put me in jail?” Sampo asks.

Caelus snorts and rolls his eyes. “That’s not what Gepard is implying, Sampo,” Caelus comments, pressing his lips into a thin line to prevent himself from laughing in Sampo’s face.

Sampo looks at Caelus quizzically, then at Dan Heng. Dan Heng raises an eyebrow at Sampo, crossing his arms over his chest.

Dan Heng sighs before answering, “Gepard is implying that you’re not the only one that feels the connection with [Y/N]. Gepard feels the same connection with [Y/N] as well.”

Mr. Yang looks at Sampo and Gepard, surprised. He clears his throat to grab the four men’s attention before pushing his glasses up the bridge of his nose. “Himeko mentioned the same thing before I caught up with the rest of you. Himeko says she feels a sense of familiarity when she saw [Y/N], although I don’t think she feels the same as the rest of us,” Mr. Yang explains.

Gepard’s eyebrows shoot to his hairline. “What do you mean by the rest of us? Do all of you feel the same way toward [Y/N]?” Gepard demands, chewing on his bottom lip.

Despite not getting a response from the four men in front of him, Gepard already knows the answer to his question. Every one of these men feels some kind of connection with you. Heck, even Himeko says she feels a sense of familiarity with you, according to Mr. Yang. A sense of familiarity is different from the tugging in their chests when they’re around you. The best way to describe it is a gravitational pull. It makes them want to be closer to you and be near you.

“Does anyone know they feel the same way?” Gepard asks, looking at you from the corner of his eyes. “I know they told Sampo they feel it as well, but what if they’re saying it to get Sampo off their back?” Gepard asks, propping one hand on his hip while stroking his chin.

The rest of the day went by in a blur to you. The last thing you remembered before losing consciousness was Himeko showing you where your temporary room is located on the Astral Express. Nanook communicated with you through your dreams twice, but this time, he didn’t make an appearance. You slept for a few hours, only to be woken up by someone knocking at the door.

You roll out of bed and stumble to the door, grabbing the doorknob and opening the door without a second thought. At first, you thought it was going to be March that was standing at the door, ready to show a photo book of her, Dan Heng, Mr. Yang, and Caelus trailblazing, but instead, it was Jing Yuan, Blade, and Luocha that’s standing at the door.

Just when you were feeling groggy, you’re now alert and surprised. You stare at the trio with wide eyes and peek over their shoulders. Why are they at the Astral Express? Shouldn’t they be at the Xianzhou Luofu? And as for Blade, you’re not entirely sure why he’s with Jing Yuan and Luocha at the Astral Express.

You give the three men a fake smile. “Jing Yuan, Luocha, and Blade! What a surprise! If you don’t mind me asking, what are you three doing here?” You ask, running your hands through your bedhead.

Jing Yuan chuckles. “It’s good to see you too, [Y/N]. We came to check up on you to see if you were okay. Caelus informed us that you weren’t feeling well when you were on Jarlio-VI,” says Jing Yuan.

You stare at Jing Yuan like a fish out of water. “Oh! I’m fine, really! I didn’t think you would stop by to check up on me after hearing what happened,” you say, clearing your throat.

Luocha smiles and pats your head. “We were worried about your well-being! Of course, we would stop by to see if you’re okay! Are we not allowed to do that?” Luocha asks, batting his eyelashes at you.

You feel yourself becoming flustered under their gaze, and you look away, rubbing the back of your neck. Then you realize that Blade is also standing there, behind Luocha and Jing Yuan, staring at you menacingly. Well, he was just staring at you like a normal person, but the look was menacing to you.

You point an accusing finger at Blade. “Why are you here? Didn’t you go somewhere with Kafka after our encounter at the Xianzhou Loufu?!” You demand, taking a step back.

Blade blinks at you. “What do you mean? Am I not allowed to check up on you?” Blade asks, raising an eyebrow at you.

You snort and lean against the door, glaring at the long, dark-haired man behind Luocha and Jing Yuan. “That’s rich coming from someone that cut my neck the other day!” You say, pointing at the bandaid on your neck.

Jing Yuan and Luocha slowly turn to look at Blade. Their demeanors shift suddenly, and the temperature in the area seems to drop. Blade frowns and ignores the glares Luocha, and Jing Yuan are giving him.

Blade sighs. “I didn’t mean to cut your neck, alright? I didn’t think the edge of the sword would be that sharp,” Blade mutters.

You grumble and shift on one foot, looking at the ground. “Yeah, well, I’m doing fine now. I appreciate you three checking up on me, really. Even though you all didn’t need to do that.” you say.

Jing Yuan chuckles. “Well, when it comes to you, we’re willing to drop everything we’re doing to make sure you’re safe,” says Jing Yuan, giving you a closed-eye smile.

“Now that we have checked up on you, I think we should leave you alone to rest now,” Luocha says, smiling at you.

You give Luocha a smile in return and bid the three men goodbye before closing the door. You walk to your bed and collapse on it, closing your eyes. When you open your eyes, you’re back in the void, standing before Nanook. Nanook lets you stand on his hand and lifts you to his eyes, caressing your cheek with his index finger.

“My beautiful, shining star. We will meet soon,” Nanook murmurs.

You place your hands over Nanook’s finger, leaning into his touch. “What do you mean by shining star? Blade and Kafka called me a fallen star. Is there a correlation between the two?” you ask.

“That, I cannot tell you, my shining star. You will know soon enough,” replies Nanook.

The void around you fades away, and you wake up to see people surrounding you. You blink at them and sit up, but Dan Heng pushes you back down on the bed. You look at Dan Heng and the others with a questioning look. Your moment with Nanook was cut so suddenly. Did something happen?

You rub your eyes. “What happened? Why is everyone in my room?” You ask.

Himeko sighs in relief, smiling at you. “We’re just glad you’re okay, that’s all,” says Himeko

You stare at Himeko and the others quizzically. “Then, does that mean I can continue my sleep?” You ask.

March’s eyes widen, and she looks at the others with panic. “Uh, yes! But you’ve been sleeping so much today! Do you want to walk around the Astral Express with us? You know, for fresh air and maybe get something to eat after?” March asks.

You shrug, rolling off the bed and stretching your arms in the air. “Yeah, sure, why not? I don’t think I had anything to eat today, so I might as well walk around the Astral Express and get something to eat after.”

March grins and grabs you by your wrist before pulling you out of your room with the others following behind. You’re not sure if you want to know what happened before you woke up, but everyone in the room looks… shaken up, if that’s the right way to describe it.

Note: Not gonna lie, I kind of like how this fic turned out. The starting "chapter" of the new series is completely different from how I started the Genshin Impact Isekai fic. I have way too many ideas for Honkai Star Rail, and I'm excited to post more for Honkai Star Rail along with the Genshin fics. I might make a more organized masterlist for all of my fics, but I'm not sure when I'll do that 🤔 To my new and/or returning readers, please keep in mind that I ONLY post on my Tumblr (Genshinluvr) and my AO3 (Aaliah_exo)! Nowhere else except Tumblr and AO3!

Read more of my works on my Masterlist | Maybe support me by tipping me on Ko-Fi or by reblogging my fanfics! ^^ I will also be posting exclusive fanfics on Ko-Fi as well very soon! I might post all of my stories on there too, but who knows. You can also tip me on Tumblr if you'd like as a way to show support! ^^

#Honkai Star Rail x reader #Honkai Star Rail imagine #Honkai Star rail fanfiction #Honkai Star Rail fanfic #HSR x reader #HSR imagine #HSR fanfiction #HSR fanfic #Dan Heng x reader #Gepard Landau x reader #Sampo Koski x reader #Welt Yang x reader #Blade x reader #Jing Yuan x reader #Luocha x reader #Caelus x reader #Nanook x reader #genshinluvr

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hanrinz · 10 months

Text

rin, your nonchalant boyfriend.

who is probably that guy who gets on reddit and then posts about you, asking for advice.

like he literally doesn’t know how to show his feelings like how you do and it bothers him!! probably has some ppl cheering him on the replies (& waits on updates)

“took my partner to ice cream today, we got to hold hands. my hands were sweating, is this normal?”

or whenever you’re having a fight and he gets on that app and he’s like “my partner and i had a fight, i can’t sleep.”

“it’s their birthday today, i finally managed to get that one thing they’ve been wanting for months.” he posts there like it’s a diary of sorts like omg.

and then his last post would be about a championship he won, but all he could think about was you and how he searched through the crowd for your face. and he thought that was the last time he’d shared any of those moments, because finally he grew the courage to ask you to be your forever.

people on reddit would often wonder about him and your relationship, it was so endearing in their eyes. and then suddenly a faithful day after a year on his last post he wrote once more.

“we’re married now :)”

it couldn't be helped, what was he supposed to do? feelings were surely overwhelming, that he needed to somehow let it all out, it felt so good that he grabbed his phone and typed out those simple words, a faint smile adorning his face. he’s like a schoolgirl who has a crush, it’s unreal.

and that was his very last post, he almost forgot about it.

it’s also been over two years when you stumbled upon it.

the username ‘rnshi’ it’s a little weird, but you were intrigued for a bit, that it was enough for you to go through it and read every single thing. and you were not one to assume anything, but you can remember these specific memories all too well. and before you know it a smile makes its way to your face, and your heart blooms even more.

and you didn’t care if it was silly, but it made your heart ache so much of love. and maybe you were overreacting, with your eyes tearing up by your lash line, trying to blink it away. a chuckle escapes you, that has caught rin’s attention peeping his head through the side of the wall of the kitchen.

“what are you laughing at?”

and if you didn’t know rin it would’ve come off as questioning and not in a good way, but he’s curious even if he tries not to show it.

turning off your phone as you dip up from the couch of your living room. you’re smiling and rin doesn’t know what to do as you near him. he notices the skip on each of your steps and a glee of happiness revolving around you.

your hands wrapping around his waist as you mush your face onto his back. he can still feel your smile.

a big question mark was planted on his face and you couldn’t help, but to giggle just a little at his confusion.

“you know that i love you right?”

of course, he knows that.

“i know.”

but it was more of a breath of relief than an assurance, because rin loves you more than anything and years of learning everything that could possibly better himself for you was proof of that, and you didn’t need any testimony to tell you that.

all you know is that, your lover is a dork and just sweetly in love just as you are.

◞♡ i’ve been missing rin a lot lately :( likes & reblogs are highly appreciated!

#roses ‘r rosie #he's a loser in my eyes #(i miss him sm im gonna sob)#rin itoshi x reader #blue lock x reader #itoshi rin x reader #bllk x reader

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yuwuta · 3 months

Note

JJK OLYMPICS OHHH YOURE A GENIUS

head spinning w sooooooo many athlete aus rn…..

satoru honestly isn’t half as cocky as the media makes him out to be but he could be because you bring up world champion men’s freestyle swim times and it’s his name on the scoreboard ten times before someone else shows up. he’s faster than himself by fifteen seconds all around, he’s earned a bit of cockiness. mentioned in the last post that whenever he’s at a competition and he finishes a race, he looks at the camera and signs a little infinity sign and then blows a kiss to you. some bitter old coach always calls him out on it, and gets him fined for unsportsmanlike conduct, and he’s happy to pay the fees if it means getting a message home to you, but eventually you two come up with a new code; and at his next race, he places gold, turns to the camera, crosses his middle finger over his pointer finger and smiles. when he’s in his post-race interview, he makes sure to explain that he does it for you with the widest smile on his face.

megumi nepotism baby but not in the same sport. toji was a multi gold medalist back in his heyday for shooting, so it’s not really a surprise to anybody that megumi has scary good aim, but he takes to archery instead of shooting. actually the idea of megumi being an emo little kid and throwing rocks at a tree when his dad pissed him off his hilarious, and even funnier is toji watching him, slightly amused and a little scared because megumi is maybe six and hitting the exact same spot every single time. he grows to be very blase about it—it’s more of a release/hobby for him that he happens to be really good at, and well, now good enough to earn a few olympic medals. megumi is not a fan of having his dad ruffle his hair on international television after he’s won, but he supposes it can’t be helped.

i don’t know where to put yuuta…. tennis…. tempting….. him in his little white shorts…. little grunts after he serves…. cries….. a complete 180 in his personality when he’s playing vs doing anything else. so charming and sweet and kinda shy when he’s being interviewed, and the second he steps on the court his eyes are so cold it’s scary…. need him… extremely nerdy about his rackets, and shoes, and clothes, and rambles to you about aerodynamics and posture and torque whenever you ask him to teach you, and you always have to shutup him up with a kiss and remind him that yeah you sort of want to learn to play tennis for him, but mostly you came bc he looks hot doing it. once he got asked in an interview if he ever thinks about you while he’s playing and his response was very concise, “no, never. it would be a big distraction,” and did not realize the implications of his heavily televised words.

also…. not to make this post 40% yuuta but we could pull from canon a bit and make his sport fencing. he doesn’t excel because he’s the strongest, it’s because he’s learned to treat the sword as an extension of himself and a good strategist… also because i like the image of him pulling the helmet/mask off and shaking his hair out………..

don’t even know where to put yuuji…. volleyball? basketball? track and field??? the irony of him easily being the most athletic but canonically does not want to play sports 😭 but i can see him playing a sport because someone scouts him and it turns out to be a way to make steady money to support himself and his grandpa :( by the time he’s qualified and made it to the olympics, wasuke is doing much better (thanks to yuuji having landed some preemptive sponsorships and being able to afford better medical care), but not so well enough that he can travel across the world to watch yuuji play. wasuke tells you that you should travel and be with yuuji, but yuuji is so touched by the idea that you would stay with his grandpa and be by his side when he’s away :(( he wins gold, of course, and he doesn’t even wait until the closing ceremony—which, he’d mentioned in all of his interviews, so nobody can be too upset. he’s on record saying, “i’m excited to play, but i’m even happier to be going home. my girlfriend and my grandpa are watching me and i miss them!” several times— he’s on the first flight home with flowers, and tears in his eyes. puts his gold medal on his grandpa’s neck as a thank you, and spends probably thirty minutes straight hugging you and kissing you and honestly don’t put it past him to propose now that he’s got nike ambassador money

nanami started judo as a way to relieve the stress of his overbearing job, and someone at the gym/training center notices he seems to be a natural despite being a beginner. he starts to draw a crowd, which annoys him at first because the point of judo was discipline and release from having to deal with too many people at his office job, but nanami supposes he can’t be too mad when you introduce yourself as a talent scout and offer him professional training. there’s irony in him accepting your offer, because it was definitely not based in professionalism at all… quitting his job as a salaryman to become a professional athlete in his mid-twenties was not on his bingo chart, but if it means he will have met you, then so be it. you’re with him all the way, through his training, competitions, world championships, qualifiers, all the way until he’s on the podium. you’re the first to congratulate him, but he interjects by telling you he’s quitting. you ask him why—he just won at the olympics for crying out loud, but nanami just shakes his head, puts down his flowers and his medal so his hands are free to hold your face and tell you, “it would be unethical to kiss my manager, so i am quitting.” (later, when everything is said and done, and you two are cuddling, you mention to him that he could just hire a new manager, and not quit his new career, to which he blushes because yeah… that’s probably more rational, but rational was not in his train of thought at the time)

#anonymous #nanami kento.......................................... god #also yuuji :((((( just a kid who wanted to do something nice for his grandpa I will CRY #immediate proposal when he gets home to you who does he think he is? yuuta?#speaking of yuuta he's like the best player his age and he's always asked to attend events or parties or whatever #and he's always like ah no thank you I am going home to my girlfriend #every fucking interview it's like yeah I love tennis but I love my girlfriend more for supporting and encouraging me #my girlfriend my girlfriend my girlfriend #one day he actually seems Excited to be doing his press conference and a journalist picks up on it to which yuuta happily raises his hand #and lets everyone know that he's now engaged. and very very grateful for his wife #he does the same shit a few years later like randomly during a press conference he's like #'I am kinda nervous. my baby didn't sleep well last night so I was up with him pretty late' and everyone's like BABY?#and yuutas like yeah! he's almost 14 months now do u wanna see him!#let me stop bringing kids into this bc w/ satoru and kento I could go on for hours....#jjk x reader #jujutsu kaisen x reader #jujutsu kaisen fluff #jujutsu kaisen smut #gojo x reader #gojo smut #yuuta x reader #yuuji x reader #megumi x reader #nanami kento x reader #once u asked megumi what he thinks about when he's practicing and he's so deadpan as he reloads and arrow #and right before he lets it go he's like 'ur ex boyfriend' and then hits the target dead in the center LMFAO #olympics au

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kinq-sleazee · 1 year

Text

ok ok , so i don’t want to write a full blown structured ficlet with all the bells and whistles so can we maybe just chat a bit about poly krbk tings?

E. Kirishima X K. Bakugo X Reader

TW! MDNI - Poly , Aged Up, poor writing, seggs

Imagine being best friends with KRBK and just inserting yourself into their lives as a sort of “platonic” third until it’s not really platonic anymore.

Like these two men love you and respect your friendship but the irrepressible attraction between the three of you is just getting too hard to ignore. Especially after a night out at the bar leads you back to their shared apartment.

And maybe the alcohol makes you a little bold and you make some silly little joke like , “let’s just fuck it out of our systems” but you soon quickly realize that you’re the only one laughing.

Between the two of them you never really stood a chance.

Katsuki holds your chin—thumb slowly pressing into your mouth while peering down at you with those fiery eyes. He looks bored almost. Only quirking a brow when you swallow around the digit and moan at the taste. Sweet. From his quirk , no doubt. He talks down to you. As if admonishing a pet. Calls you names. Whore. Slut. Claims that you’ve been planning this all along—secretly waiting for the day to choke on his cock. “That’s all you are. A hole”. At this point he’s pushed three fingers in your mouth. Slowly fucking into your throat while saliva runs down his arm. “I wish you could see yourself, cupcake. S’fucking pathetic how desperate you look”. You want him so bad right now. It’s embarrassing, so you can’t help the tear that falls. “Fuck— you cryin’ , cupcake? So damn cute. Want ya to cry sum more. Fuck that little kitty so hard… turn ya into a poundcake.

Eijiro is nicer than his lover, at least it seems that way at first. He holds you against his front, you can feel his erection pressing into your back. Kissing from the nape of your neck to your shoulder. Bite marks and bruises littering your skin. However, your focus is on the deft fingers skimming up your thighs , rising the fabric of your dress above your hips and running the pad of his finger over your clothed clit. You can feel him smile against your skin. He calls you beautiful. His angel. Perfection. All while fucking the fabric of your panties into your needy hole. “Think you were made for me, darling. Gonna feel so good wrapped around me. That’s what you want , yeah ? Wanna squeeze on daddy’s dick, baby girl ?”

It’s not nearly enough stimulation and you’re literally begging them for something. Anything. You need it at this point.

They oblige. Swiftly undressing you and positioning you in your hands and knees.

Eijiro rubs his meaty cockhead against your quivering hole. It’s big. Painfully so. You whine and attempt to move earning a sharp slap to your thigh. “Didn’t you ask for this, darling ? Why are you running ? Tryna disappoint me ?” And you’re overwhelmed. Chest heaving , eyes blurry and babbling apologies. The redhead hums in acknowledgment and pushes in fully with one powerful thrust.

Bakugo doesn’t really care to hear your cries so he shuts you up with his cock. With a hand buried in your hair he pistons in and out of your mouth, setting a brutal pace. He stops ever so often to let you breathe or spit in your mouth but then it’s right back to choking on his cock.

They use you for their pleasure this first time. Rutting into you carelessly, sloppily chasing their orgasms. Of course they make you cum— Eijiro rubbing your clit and Katsuki pinching your nipples — but it lacks finesse.

When the post-nut clarity settles their able to really tend to your needs. Katsuki settles between your legs, whispering sweet praises to your “pretty little pussy” then running the flat of his tongue through your cum coated folds. Eijiro joins him, drinking up his own spend while sucking on your pleasure point and massaging Bakugo’s tongue with his own.

You’re dead tired and sensitive when you cum again but much to your despair and pleasure these two are just getting started.

#♛♚|the king speaks #mha bakugou #bakugou smut #bakugo x reader #bakugo smut #mha bakugo smut #bakugo x black reader #eijiro kirishima smut #eijiro kirishima #mha kirishima #kirishima smut #kirishima x bakugou #kirishima x reader #kiribaku #krbk x reader #kiribaku x reader #kiribaku x black reader

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stevieschrodinger · 5 months

Text

Part One Two four

A small note: if you would like to be added to the tagging list please ask in a reply to the post, I won't check elsewhere.

Eddie’s sitting on the couch. He’s staring into space, a couch cushion clutched tight to his chest.

Steve creeps in after Robin, hears her say, “Eddie?” softly, presumably so she doesn’t startle him.

He’s sitting in the dark, and they both just leave it that way. Probably an unspoken understanding that they don’t want to unsettle Eddie.

They sit down either side of him, Robin rubbing at his back. Steve keeps his hands to himself, not sure what will be welcome, and even less sure what the fuck he should say. Robin’s just better at this sort of stuff than Steve, maybe because she’s a girl or whatever, but she definitely has the emotional intelligence half of the brain.

Steve doesn’t know if there’s anything he even can say in a situation like this.

Eddie’s eyes are red and his face is wet, and he doesn’t move or look at either of them.

Eventually, Robin speaks gently, “Eddie, we can’t stay here.”

Steve figures whoever did live here probably cleared out when everything went to shit. He’s kind of glad; has no fucking idea how he’d explain away Eddie Munson, possible cult leader and serial killer, breaking into their house.

Steve doesn’t think Eddie’s going to say anything, but he does, after a minute, he nods, and says in a croaky voice, “I want to see Wayne.”

“Yeah, of course,” Robin agrees quickly, “we can do that, right Steve?”

“Yeah,” Steve replies, trying to sound sure and confident with that, when Eddie flinches. Visibly flinches. Turning away, shuffling closer to Robin’s end of the couch. And, okay.

Robin looks at him over Eddie’s head. Steve shrugs. Robin shrugs back. No idea.

Steve carefully, making no quick movements, moves his hand in front of his mouth, mimes using the walkie. Robin nods.

Steve jogs out to the car, walkie’s everyone real quick so they can stop looking. The others have already woken Wayne up, discovered that Eddie wasn’t there, and then gone looking for Eddie, so they’re going to head back there and wait for Steve and Robin to bring Eddie over. Explain to Wayne that Eddie’s safe so they don’t leave him worrying in the meantime.

Steve creeps back in, hoping Robs has made some progress getting Eddie moving. She hasn’t, and Steve peeks around the corner, listening. Robin is still rubbing at Eddie’s back, but he’s talking, “didn’t make any sense to come here. It’s all wrong. It all looks wrong it’s...not how we had it. Our stuffs not here,” Eddie sniffs, his voice breaking, “I thought I’d find them here.”

And then Eddie is sobbing, face buried into the cushion, sobbing so hard his whole body is hitching. He’s making noises that tear at Steve, it’s one of the worst things Steve has ever seen, such an outpouring of grief. Eddie’s so loud with it, almost wailing, barely able to breathe his chest is so wracked with it.

Steve feels absolutely useless, but Robin’s looking for him over the back of the couch, and as soon as he sees her his feet carry him over. Robin’s crying too. Steve’s pretty sure his own eyes are wet. It’s just so awful to watch. So painful, Eddie’s grief.

Steve realizes now, why Robin was so horrified. The truth of it finally sinking in now he sees the evidence of it. Eddie loved them, loved them so much that loosing them is breaking him.

Steve sits back on the couch, Eddie looking up for a second when he feels the couch dip, and suddenly he’s thrown himself at Steve, still shaking with those heaving sobs as Steve reflexively wraps his arms around him. It hurts like fuck on Steve’s broken ribs, but Steve bites it back, like fuck is reminding Eddie of that right now.

“I shouldn't have come here,” Eddie chokes out, “I’m sorry. I’m so sorry.”

Eddie’s making Steve’s neck wet, and his great heaving sobs make Steve arms hitch along with them. Over the fluff of Eddie’s hair, Steve sees it as Rob starts crying fully, wiping at her nose with her sleeve, her face crumpling with it.

Steve swallows thickly, trying to hold it together but knowing he’s loosing it, and he rubs at Eddie's back, telling him, "it's okay, it'll be okay," even though Steve has no idea if it is or even if it ever will be.

It feels like a small eternity before Eddie sits up and finally moves. He doesn’t look at Steve, has his eyes squeezed shut as he scrubs at his face, and when Steve reaches for him, he flinches so hard he almost falls off the couch.

Rob is there for him then, telling him, “easy, easy,” and getting Eddie up and walking him to the car, Eddie half leaning on her.

Eddie’s opening the car door before Steve even fully stops, high tailing it away like his ass is on fire. Wayne is there in the doorway of the motel room.

Easy enough to find, it’s the only motel in Hawkins, and Jon’s car is parked outside the right room.

Wayne opens the door as Steve kills the engine, and Steve watches in the dim light as Eddie practically throws himself at Wayne. He’s sobbing again, Steve can hear it.

Steve’s only half out the car, but Nancy’s there, shaking her head, “we should leave them to it.”

They’re not going to go back to sleep, but they go through the motions anyway. Steve has a shower, really feels like he needs it. He takes a few minutes extra in there, scrubbing at his face and washing his hair, being very careful of his stitches. He gets changed into sleep pants after, and a loose tee shirt, lying in bed. Even if he just lies here, at least it’s rest of some kind. The sun will be up in an hour away, and the kids had said something about helping out at the sports hall, making sandwiches and putting together bundles of emergency supplies and stuff like that.

Steve said he’d drive them.

“Come on Dingus, I can hear you thinking about it.”

“He wouldn’t even look at me, and he flinched Rob, did you see that? And then…” it just doesn’t make any sense.

“Yeah, I did but...out of all of us, you’re the one he hurt the worst. Like, way the worst. He nearly killed you, Steve. Like, literally, if Eddie had taken another ten seconds to wake up, you would have been lights out. Maybe he remembers.”

That does make sense, Steve hums in agreement, that’s got to be hard for him, “yeah.”

“Maybe it’s hard for him to see you because...well. That’s got to be a shitty memory. Plus, trauma does funny things, what if he remembers you fighting back, you know?”

And that’s true, Steve did land one good hit on Eddie with his bat, more reflexive than anything. Before Eddie had taken the thing right out of Steve’s hands and snapped it like it was nothing, that is.

So yeah, maybe, Steve figures, “he was saying sorry.”

Robin hums again.

Steve’s ribs are healed up, his stitches long gone, all his bruises and scrapes are gone. The town is, kind of, back on it’s feet. Sure, there’s probably an abnormally high number of for sale signs in Hawkins, but everyone who was going to come back has done. Enough that Steve’s got part time shifts at the video store, at least. Mostly to keep up appearances; now that it’s all over, Owen’s got them all a pay out. Essentially for damages and trauma or whatever, but also with a very clear ‘keep your mouths shut’ attached to it.

For that first month, Eddie pretty much only speaks to Dustin. He stays with Wayne, and once every couple of days he lets Dustin know that he’s okay. The message Dustin brings back is the same every time, “he’s okay, he just needs some time.”

@autumncrocusandladybug @duckyreads @neonfruitbowl @slv-333 @starlight-archer @skys-archive @justdreamersdream @moomkin77 @prazinos @dragonmama76 @lingeringmirth @darkwitchoferie @weirdandabsurd42 @zoeweee @thennic @xiaq @tinyplanet95 @steddieyourself @chrystal-lovee @futuristicunknown86 @grtwdsmwhr @mugloversonly @wonderland-girl143-blog

#eddie munson #steve harrington #stranger things #pre steddie #the party #my writing #steddie dreamed life

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inkdrinkerworld · 4 months

Text

𝓒𝓤𝓟𝓘𝓓'𝓢 𝓒𝓤𝓡𝓢𝓔

Synopsis: James can make your days trying to get a story for your company really hard, he gets under your skin and knows exactly what buttons to poke and you hate it.

cw: a bit of an axious!reader, rugby!james, i used the house names for the clubs but it is not at all set in the HP universe.

wc: 1.1k

-`♡´--`♡´--`♡´--`♡´--`♡´--`♡´-

Sports journalism is fun and rewarding.

You love going to the post and pre-match interviews and talking to the players and managers and getting all the insight you can to then write your story. What you don’t like is having to interview James Potter.

Everytime James sees you in the press room, he decides it’s his time to be the most non-descriptive, non-responsive to all of your questions and make it difficult for you to even write a story. He loves giving you vague answers that don’t answer any of your questions and it gets under your skin like nothing else.

It’s even more tiresome when he’s the team’s go to media-man because of his looks. He’s England’s current heartthrob first and their best flanker second. He’s beefy and burly, with curls that look like they’ve been ink dipped individually and dimples that throw a wrench into many a woman’s plan. It also doesn’t help you, mostly, that he’s the perfect gentleman the minute the cameras are on and everything he says takes on this sugary, colying tone.

Dread fills you as you walk into the media room, finding a few familiar faces before you sit to the back. You hope in vain that James isn’t on media today, maybe they’ll put his sweet teammate Remus on media duty. He’s always sweet and succinct, answering all the questions, no matter how ridiculous, with a grace and precision you suspect makes him perfect for being the team’s fly-half.

You’d even interview his rowdy teammate Sirius, possibly the best winger in the game right now, and endure his loudness and even his flirtations with the camera so long as you just got good answers.

Your hope is shattered when you hear James talking as he rounds the corner, your hands grow cold knowing that today is the day you write a half decent story about the Gryffindor team.

“Morning,” he calls as he enters, his eyes find you immediately and the smile he shoots you makes you scowl. It’s going to be a long press day. “It’s great to be back.”

“How have you and your team prepared for the start of the season? Knowing it’s a derby game must make it all the more exciting to be back.” One journalist starts, sweat already pebbling on your brow.

James answers perfectly, in depth and with the knowledge that you sometimes forget these players possess.

“What about the injured players from last season? Can we look out for their names on the starting squad? What sort of system can we look forward to this season?” You ask, hands shaking as you prepare for the worst. You hate how much anxiety courses through you nowadays in these interviews. They used to be far more fun.

“I can’t well say what we’re going to play this weekend, it’d be a bit of a helping hand to the Slytherin team.” The media room laughs and you have to bite your tongue to keep the scowl off your face. “However, we’ve got a lot of key players back in the squad, so I’ll say keep your ears open for some names you haven’t heard in a couple months.”

By the time you’re finished with the conference, you’ve got sufficient answers for the hopes of the beginning of the season but every other question was bypassed or you’d received a roundabout answer.

You’re picking up all your equipment, the other journalists all gone already. James hovers near the door, watching you for whatever reason but it makes your skin crawl. He has to know what he’s done.

“Can I help you, Potter?” You ask, lifting your head to catch a peek at him. His arms are folded across his chest and he’s leaning against the doorframe, something sort of like a smile on his face.

“Just waiting for you to be done. Wouldn’t feel right to just leave you in here alone.” There’s a bit of sincerity but mostly amusement in his tone and you roll your eyes. James laughs and pushes off the door frame moving towards you, “All done?” you huff and sigh, hoisting your bag over your shoulder and walking past him.

“Have a good training session, James.” he nods, watching you go with a smile on his face, one that spreads bigger when your perfume lingers in the room after you.

When you hit submit on your report you feel good but stressed.

What usually takes you an hour and a half to get done, took you twice as long because reports have been so slow during the off-season that you wanted to get it perfect before the opening match. Stretching, you make your way into the kitchen.

You’re sure half the worry was unnecessary and the other half was about impressing your boss. God knows you need that woman to be pleased with something you do this year.

Your phone rings before you can give in to that anxiety inducing thought, your stomach pits and the cup of tea you had to your lips lower. “This is Y/n.”

“Hi, I want to talk about the interview you just submitted,” Your boss is a bit of a hardass. She’s always harping about things being ‘perfect’ and stories being complete, so in the two years you’ve worked there, though you’ve climbed to higher and higher positions, you’re still the fresh and sort of peppy girl you were to her when you’d handed in your resume and appeared in her office in a blue suit.

“Sure,” you set down the tea and open your laptop, ready for a slew of changes or to change whatever she wanted you to.

“It’s great,” that’s high praise, yet you sense something in her tone. You’re almost certain she’s going to make you rewrite the entire thing to make the opening game of the season, a derby game no less, seem even more anticipated than it already is. “I just want you to add a little more about the history of both teams. Potter’s already brought in an influx of new fans, we want to make it easy for them to get into the season and get behind either team and feel the rivalry.”

That’s not what you’d been expecting. Not what you were expecting in the least.

“I’ll resubmit tonight by eight.” is what you say but inside you’re twirling and jumping around your apartment while morning sun streaks through your living and early 2000s pop music is blasting through the house.

James Potter and his non-answers be damned, you just got the best compliment of your work life.

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augustinewrites · 1 year

Text

the first time it happens, bakugou is caught completely off guard and is therefore unable to properly act upon it.

he’s just gotten off his patrol, groaning loudly as he sinks into his plush desk chair. he still needs to type up his report and go over the notes left by his assistant before he can call it a day, but as he waits for his monitor to boot up, exhaustion creeps over him.

as a rule, bakugou did not usually nap in order to keep his strict sleep schedule. but after a long week of work, he can’t help but let his eyes drift shut and a yawn escape as he lays his head back.

that is, of course, when the door to his office opens. and there’s only one person brave enough to open the door without knocking first. “hey.”

“hi,” you smile, stepping inside to place a bottle of water and a pack of electrolytes on his desk. “will i see you at home soon?”

he glances at his monitor, the clock in the corner reading 4:48pm, twelve minutes before the workday is over. wincing, he rubs his temple. “might still be a while, sorry.”

“do you want me to stay and keep you company?”

it’s a tempting offer, but he shakes his head. “no, ’s alright. just pick up some takeout and i’ll meet you at home soon.”

“okay,” you agree, but only because you both know that after you grab some takeout, you’ll be right back here to keep him company anyway. “just don’t work yourself too hard, promise?”

“yeah, yeah,” he mutters, letting you press a kiss to his temple.

“alright, see you later, pumpkin!”

bakugou pauses, brows furrowing. “wait–”

you’re already sailing out of the room though, and bakugou slumps back into his chair. you did not just call him, dynamight, pumpkin. that was something people named orange tabbys, not the number two pro with the highest offensive stats on the charts.

_____

he wishes that he could say the first time was the last, but it turns out that pumpkin wasn’t the worst nickname you could bestow upon him.

you’re just sauntering out of the bedroom when you join him in the kitchen the next morning, freshly showered after his jog and fixing you a cup of coffee. you’re not a person until at least 9am, responding to his good morning, baby with a grumble as presses the mug into your hands.

you wake up a little after you’ve had a few sips, smiling at him over the rim of your mug as you murmur, “thanks, sweetpea.”

bakugou, who’d been gulping down a glass of water, nearly chokes, sputtering, “babe—”

“do you want to make waffles?” you ask, smiling so sweetly at him that he doesn’t have the heart to reprimand you. so he just doesn’t answer right away, wary of any more saccharine sweet nicknames you might fire off.

“katsuki?”

“yeah, waffles. sure,” he replies stupidly, watching as you nod and begin pulling ingredients from the cupboards, criminally oblivious to the quarter-life crisis he’s having.

_____

bakugou doesn’t know what’s going on with you. he’s heavily considering a trip to the er, because you must have been hit with some sort of quirk that makes you call him disgustingly corny pet names.

“nice catch, cupcake!” you applaud upon his return to the agency after apprehending a villain. one of the interns starts to laugh, but quickly smothers it when the pro-hero shoots him a withering stare.

“looking good, sugarplum,” you compliment when he’s in the middle of a quick, post-lunch workout in his office. he’d stopped mid curl, almost dropping 50 pounds on his foot.

“thanks, muffin,” you grin after getting his signature on the report he’d missed earlier in the day. he tells kirishima, who’d been there trying to steal a protein bar from his desk and is starting to laugh, to shut the fuck up or get out.

it wasn’t that he hated pet names (he thought they could be cute). what he hated was being referred to as various pastries that sound like they’d come out of his dad’s cookbook.

but he could handle it. could handle you because, well, he loved you. and you make sacrifices for those you love, even if it means his friends and fellow pros stop calling him dynamite and start calling him honeycakes instead. besides, you’d get over…whatever kind of phase this was eventually.

and you do.

“goodnight, lovebug,” you murmur, just as he’s on the precipice of sleep. but he’s wide awake now, sitting up to flick the bedside lamp on.

“how do you just say things like that?” he asks, genuinely bewildered.

you rub the sleep from your eyes, blinking yourself awake. “like what?”

“the names!” he groans, rubbing a hand over his face. “they’re ridiculous.”

“they’re not ridiculous,” you huff indignantly as you turn to face him. “they’re cute, like you.”

“i am not cute,” he scoffs, batting your hand away when you poke his cheeks. “you just— you can’t keep callin’ me shit like cupcake or lovebug. just pick somethin’ else to call me.”

you’re looking at him with a shit-eating grin on your face, and bakugou feels he’s made a mistake of some kind. “should i call you my love instead?”

heat crawls up his neck as he averts his gaze. “that’s alright.”

you shuffle closer. “yeah? what about…darling?”

“you can use that, sure,” he shrugs, hoping he doesn’t look as flustered as he feels.

you’re straddling his lap now, dipping your head down to whisper,

“what if i called you daddy?”

he freezes, fingers digging into your hips as your teeth graze the shell of his ear.

you get your answer when he flips you both over so you’re trapped against the mattress, swallowing your gasp with a heated kiss.

BONUS:

you hum contentedly as kirishima places a stack of bills into your waiting palm. “i told you he would break in less than a week.”

the redhead groans loudly, lamenting his empty wallet. “man, i thought he was stronger than this!”

“if i’d called him something like ‘kitten,’ this whole thing would have gone a lot faster,” you muse, shaking your head.

kirishima, clearly having not learned from his recent loss, suggests, “i’ll buy you lunch for a week if you call him that during the board meeting later.”

“i’ll buy you lunch for two weeks if you do it,” you counter.

“deal!”

#bakugou x reader #bakugou katuski x reader #bakugo katuski x reader #bnha x reader #bakugo fluff

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strawberrygummiess · 11 days

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anemone.

azul ashengrotto x gender neutral! reader 4.6k words cross posted on ao3 "Can I request Azul x reader where after a trip into town the reader is begging Azul for a few shifts at the most to lounge? Turns out in a little shop they found what looks to be a replica of their mom’s wedding ring and they miss their parents so much. Who cares if it’s not real gold or fake diamonds? It looks like home and they’re willing to slave just to get it. Azul can’t turn away tears now can he?"

Everyone knew you were short on money.

You had become one of the most notorious penny pinchers on campus, although, it wasn’t your fault. Crowley’s “generosity” could only take you so far before you had to be creative. Brand new, dubious tuna-based dishes; impractical fixes for your household wares; sewing and resewing every hole in your uniform; and of course, finding jobs anywhere they’d take you.

This was easier said than done, of course. As much as you’d love to go into town and find a stable part-time job, you could only get so far into the application process before it became very apparent that you were not from this world. And you suspected that an unknown person coming in and out of Night Raven College gates with zero records of their existence was not a scandal that Crowley (or you, for that matter) was equipped to handle. Not that anyone would let you starve to death, you had more food-related gifts than you could handle. It made you grateful for Grim’s never-ending stomach. The food was nice, but it wasn’t everything. What you really needed was a steady income.

If you can’t get a job in town, you would have to get the next best thing: The Mostro Lounge. The students who worked there always bragged about the pretty paychecks they earned every two weeks. Who cared that they looked ragged every day? You needed that money.

And that’s why you were here, deep in Octavinelle dorm, begging Azul for a position at the Mostro Lounge. You needed money. Your dorm was falling apart. Your clothes had holes in them. You were just so tired of eating tuna. Anything to garner some sympathy.

He didn’t need to know the real reason. That you’ve been eyeing up in the jewelry shop in town. That you were desperate to buy a ring that looked eerily similar to your mother’s wedding ring. That you were grasping for any reminder of your home. Because that would be embarrassing. And a prime opportunity to get manipulated by Azul. And you had already done that song and dance.

So now, here you were, nervously bouncing your leg while you waited for his response. He seemed to be mulling the idea over, seemingly thinking of a way to trick you into getting the short end of the stick. He hummed an unrecognizable tune while he filed through his contracts, finishing the task he started before you arrived, occasionally peering over his glasses to look at you. You were undeniably anxious, fidgety, and uncomfortable: the prime emotional state to agree to a dodgy deal.

“Now Prefect, do calm down,” Azul mused, placing his chin in his hand after he finished his sorting. He watched as you settled your leg and gave him a tense smile. Despite his confident demeanor, he knew he had to tread carefully here. You were a delicate case.

On the one hand, you were smart. You had already bested him once before, and he knew you were entirely capable of doing it again. You also wouldn’t sign any old contract, even with this out-of-character desperation. On the other hand, Azul couldn’t say he’d seen this level of distress from you before. Especially about your “money problems”.

As smart as you were, he was no fool. Something was up. He just didn’t know what.

“I understand you’re looking for a part-time serving job. The Mostro Lounge is always looking for new talent, however- “

“It’s crucial that I get this job.”

Azul tsks at your interruption before leaning back in his chair. You can see it on his face. Annoyance, frustration. A hint of confusion if you knew what to look for. Nothing pleasant. The smile on his face didn’t change, but his eyes narrowed slightly. Less patient.

“Now, now Prefect, I know your work ethic. I am not against hiring you per se. I just ask for a little… transparency amongst my employees. I’m a fair and equitable boss, I only want to help you.”

Your leg began to bounce again.

“C’mon Azul, you remember what Ramshackle was like. It hasn’t gotten much better. And look- “You hold up your arm to reveal the miserable patch you scrapped together with what remained of your curtains. Your blazer had more mismatched patches than linen at this point.

“Your clothes are ruined, and you’re looking to eat something a bit different this week, yes, yes, I know this one.” Azul finishes. His stare is pointed. “However, this is how it’s always been. And never have I seen you so desperate to pick up shifts. Is there something going on? You know I can help you without sending you to work.”

Fat chance. You know his game. You’d allow him to “help” you and then be stuck as an errand boy indefinitely. You were already Crowley’s servant. You weren’t too keen to be someone else’s. You gingerly lower your arm and take a moment to decide on your answer. The whole truth was out of the question, of course, but you could afford to tell him a little bit. Just enough to get him off your case.

“It’s nothing you don’t already know about, like you said. I’m just… tired of living this way. It’d be nice to have extra cash, so I don’t have to complain constantly. That’s all.” You settle. It wasn’t a lie. You needed extra cash anyway. You were just going to use it for a non-essential.

Well, a non-essential to everyone else.

Azul hums in approval before swiveling his chair around to the filing cabinet behind him. He riles through files of paperwork before grabbing a thick stack of papers. At this point, he knows he isn’t getting any more information out of you. If this was the game you were going to play, he would win by your rules. Azul lets out a soft “ah” as he finds what he’s looking for. He turns back around, and with a snap of his fingers, the filing cabinet closes with a loud clink. He sets the stack of papers down on his desk before opening another drawer. You take the opportunity to read the cover. Mostro Lounge Employee Handbook.

“That is yours to keep. It has all the information you need about our company, code of conduct; policy and procedures- do study those thoroughly-; and workers’ rights,” Azul begins to flip through the booklet before landing on a section towards the end.

“And this is your acknowledgment that you’ve read the handbook. When you finish reading through it, sign here and tear the page from the booklet.”

You grab the booklet from his desk, flipping through the pages quickly. It would take you at least an hour to read through it, let alone study. You land on the Policy and Procedures page and glance at the text written on it. You notice the usual statements, Attendance, Safety, and Security. Each statement had a lengthy explanation of the expectations and appropriate procedures for employees to follow. Each statement ended with a bold statement: No exceptions.

Before you can speak again, Azul hands you another set of papers.

“Here are some other official documents I will need you to sign. Onboarding processes usually involve tax forms and such but considering your unique situation we will have to create a new form for you. As for payment, as you have no bank account, it’ll be in cash.”

You thumb through the additional papers. One is an agreement of payment. The other is a form about uniforms and sizing. There is a rundown of waiter etiquette, the type of service, and a menu. Azul hands you a pen, gesturing to the payment agreement form. You quickly scan the page, looking for nefarious fine print, but ultimately decide it is safe. And you’re happy to see the high pay rate. Working for at least two weeks, plus any tips you could earn, you’re sure you’ll get that ring in no time. You sign your name eagerly. Azul quickly takes the paper and pen from your hands and grins.

“Please return the uniform slip to me by tomorrow so I can get your uniform fitted as soon as possible. I will also need you to sign the other acknowledgment papers and return those before your first day. Once your uniform is ready, you can begin working with us. Do study that menu, I need it memorized before your first day. You will shadow Jade and Floyd. Do you have any questions for me currently?”

Azul was flashing a charming smile at you. His previous look of annoyance is long gone, now replaced with a confident and relaxed gaze. You were slightly overwhelmed but matched his smile.

“Nothing I can’t text you about later, right?”

“Of course. We look forward to working with you, Prefect.”

He rises from his chair and extends a hand. You stand, shake his hand, and bid Azul farewell, carefully securing your stack of papers against your chest. The easy part was finished. Now you had to survive the hard part.

By the time you return to your dorm, it’s late. Grim is sitting on your kitchen counter, tail flipping in annoyance. His eyes are squeezed shut, but you know he’s awake and aware of your presence.

“All that time spent in Octavinelle and you didn’t bring any food home?” he grumbles but he happily leans into your scratches as you search for a can of tuna. His eyes open and scans the stack of papers on the counter.

“Since when did you work at the Mostro Lounge?”

“Since today.” You respond, removing your hand and opening the can. Grim follows your hands, walking in front of the can to chase your pets. You swat his head away. For a creature that claims not to be a cat, he sure acted like one.

“Are you gonna start bringing fancy food home? I want steak every day.”

“There’s no way I’m going to be able to bring steak home ever.” You laugh, emptying the tuna can into a bowl and setting it aside. You take the opportunity to look at the formidable pile of documents and sigh. You supposed you’d have to get started on memorizing sooner rather than later.

It was worth it for the ring.

A week passed before you were able to officially start your first day. It was an agonizing wait for you. You compulsively went to the jewelry shop the day before your start date to check that the ring was still there. Still on display, the modest ring sat among the other fancy bands. You had seen others beside it come and go, but the silver ring stayed put for nearly a month. You had never been so thankful for your mother’s practicality.

350 madols. You’d get that in two weeks if you were diligent.

On your first day, you were early. Several hours early. You entered Mostro Lounge, still crisp uniform feeling foreign on your skin. Even back home, you had never worn anything this fancy. You tentatively looked around the dark room and took in the sight of the restaurant. You had never seen it so empty. You almost felt like you were trespassing.

“Woaaah Shrimpy even beat us! Guess they’re serious!” You heard Floyd before you felt him. He grasped your shoulder while he moved in front of you. He was wearing the same uniform as you, although slightly more unkempt. While Azul’s policies had stated there were “no exceptions” to the uniform expectations, you figured Floyd couldn’t be contained by such rules.

“Well, that’s good to see. Not many new hires are this passionate about the business,” Jade strides to the other side of Floyd with a polite smile on his face. “You’re aware of the shadowing process, correct?”

“In theory,” you say, shifting your weight from foot to foot. You’ve always been slightly intimidated by the twins. “Floyd is a server and you’re on expo… I doubt I’ll be spending much time with you, though.”

Jade grins at your knowledge. “No, not while I’m doing that. But I also double as floor manager when Azul is out. That’s when you’ll be under my watch. I’m impressed. Azul told me you’re serving experience was limited.”

You bite back your comment about using the internet to look up your questions. Compliments are nice. And you didn’t want to feel any more over your head than you already did. Expeditors were for fancy restaurants. You had never seen one in your old jobs.

“So, because today is a Saturday, we’re open earlier. The chefs will be comin’ in soon to start prepping and making family, and then we’ll be ready to open. It's great that you’re here so early though. Now I can show you everything without people being in my way.” Floyd explains, guiding you through the dining area with your shoulder.

“This is the floor; you’ll primarily be working here. You’re gonna be serving with me, bussing tables, and running food.” Floyd kicks the doors open to the kitchen.

“This is the kitchen, Jade’s territory. That’s the walk-in, that’s the chef area, cleaning station, blah blah blah, you won’t really need anything back here unless you do.”

You decide not to comment on the “unless you do” bit and hope that it means it’s above your pay grade. So far it doesn’t seem too bad. Although there aren’t any guests yet.

“This is your locker; you can put your… nothing here. Yikes. Things that bad at home, Shrimpy?”

“I can always bring Grim if that makes me look less sad.” You joke, glancing around before following Floyd out of the locker area. He shows you Azul’s office, where you quickly drop off your remaining paperwork, the break area, and the storage area. By the time you’ve finished your tour, other employees have already filed in and begun their side work.

“And that brings you to the end of Floyd’s restaurant tour! I deserve a 5-star rating, right Shrimpy?” He grins, leaning down to your height to flash his teeth at you. “Go ahead and start rolling silverware, I’ll come to get you before family.”

Floyd leaves and you join the other servers, chatting politely while you prepare for service to start. You take a deep breath and try to steady your heart. You have to focus and keep your eyes on the prize.

Family was deceptively calm and quiet. Service was hell.

The few times you had dined in Mostro Lounge had been nearly perfect. The servers were attentive, the food delicious, and the atmosphere tranquil. It had been a while since you had worked in food service, but even your limited experience in a family-owned diner couldn’t prepare you for just how intensely Azul ran the Lounge.

The shift from front of house to back of house was like night and day. The second you entered the kitchen you could hear screams for “Hands!” and “Service!”. You constantly messed up dishes- bringing the wrong plates to the wrong tables, bringing them too early or late much to Jade’s annoyance, forgetting the menu out of stress, and the amount of chastising you were hearing for letting dishes die was agonizing. You had even crashed into a dishwasher after forgetting to announce “Behind!” breaking several dishes.

This was only your first day.

Floyd quickly told you to take five in the locker room while several students cleaned the mess you made. You quickly sat on the bench and placed your head in your hands. This was an utter disaster. You let out a miserable groan, pulling your knees to your chest. You couldn’t imagine what Azul would make of your performance. You were hoping for some sympathy, but after all the trouble you made, you wouldn’t keep an employee like you around either.

“Prefect.”

Azul’s harsh tone made you quickly regain your composure. You grimaced as you looked up at him from your seat, placing your legs back on the floor.

“I’m really sorry. It was more than I expected, I should’ve asked more questions… I can pay for the dishes, just take it out of my paycheck, I just really need this job- “

Azul put his hands up to stop you. You’re glad he did. You could feel your throat tightening as you explained yourself. You didn’t want to cry in front of him.

“Dishes can be fixed with magic. What can’t be fixed is the experiences the patrons had today.” Azul states. He opens his mouth to say something else before hesitating. You look utterly miserable. Tired, stressed, and anxious. Usually, this many mistakes in one day would warrant termination, but you’re a special case.

“…Clearly, service is a bit much for you. Tomorrow morning, I am heading into town for the farmer’s market. You will join me. Meet me in the Lounge, 6 AM sharp. Do not be late.”

Azul turns sharply and leaves the room. You breathe a sigh of relief before leaning back against the lockers. You only had a couple more hours of your shift. That was plenty of time to get at least one table right. You resigned yourself to doing the best you can before joining everyone back in the kitchen.

The next morning you are utterly exhausted. You were chewed up more times than you could count, and the quick turnaround from the previous workday to this morning left you with only a few hours of sleep. You were sure you looked ragged as you walked into the Mostro Lounge.

Floyd and Jade were already there, Floyd half asleep, and Jade fixing centerpieces. Jade glances at you and raises his brow.

“Oh? I figured you would’ve been fired last night.”

The harsh words made you wince, but you nodded in understanding. You did too.

“Yeah Shrimpy,” Floyd yawned. “You messed up big time yesterday. Never seen someone so bad at this.”

You pursed your lips. You were getting less understanding.

“I’m not joining you in service today,” Your brow twitched in annoyance at the sound of Floyd’s Thank God! “I’m joining Azul in town today. Picking up ingredients with him, I think.”

Floyd and Jade exchanged a look before they let out a series of giggles. Floyd’s giggles turn into a cackle that fills the room. You had never felt so much anxiety in your life. Think of the ring. Think of your mom.

“Is there something funny, Floyd?”

Azul asks as he enters the room, exactly on time. You’ve never been so excited to see him before, but if you had learned anything from NRC, it was that you did not enjoy the Twins’ company. Floyd responds to Azul with a cheeky Wouldn’t you like to know? making him scoff. Azul glances around the room, finally spotting you. He seems pleasantly surprised to see you there so early, almost expecting you to be late, or not even bother to show at all. You truly were dedicated to the paycheck. Azul couldn’t help but admire your devotion.

Jade strode over to Azul with a smile, handing him a piece of paper. Azul sighed, read over the note, and gave Jade an annoyed look before stuffing the list in his pocket.

“The Mostro Lounge does not require fifteen new types of mushrooms, Jade. Come now Prefect, otherwise, we’ll be late to the market.” Azul links your arm with his and begins leading you toward the door, and you hear Floyd’s cackles fill the air again.

The walk to town is mostly quiet. You don’t have much to say, and you’re admittedly too tired to wrack your brain for conversation points. You sneak glances at Azul’s profile as you walk, wondering what’s going on in his head.

What was so special about you that he kept you around? What did he want from you that he couldn’t get from anyone else?

“Is there something the matter, Prefect? It’s impolite to stare.”

Azul glances at you with a smile. You furrow your brows.

“Why didn’t you fire me?”

He chuckles.

“Well, I thought you needed a job. I’m helping you, like you asked.”

He leaves it as that once you approach the market. You don’t need to know how much he enjoys your presence, even when you’re messing everything up. You also don’t need to know that Jade and the head chef are usually the ones making the farmer’s market trips. If you were going to withhold information from him, it was only fair to do the same to you.

The time spent shopping is pleasant. The tension fades away the longer you two are shopping together, and you find yourself listening to his explanations of the dishes he serves, and why the restaurant is run the way it is. You’re impressed by how much he’s accomplished at such a young age. Every time he mentions his mother’s restaurant, you can’t help but smile.

As you’re finishing up, you happen to glance around, realizing the jewelry shop is on this street. You look at Azul, who is still conversing with a vendor and begin to inch away towards the shop. You’d just take a look at the ring again, and quickly go back to Azul and leave. Simple.

You enter the shop and greet the shopkeeper, who at this point knows what you’re there to look at. You walk over to the display and peer into the glass. Still on display was your mother’s ring.

“Ah, so this is what you needed the money for!”

Azul almost sounds giddy as he approaches you. You jump back in surprise, not realizing he had even come in. You stammered out apologies, trying to cover up why you had wandered off, but it was too late. You were busted.

Azul glanced at the ring that captivated you. It was a plain silver wedding band with a simple vine engraving. There were no jewels or diamonds in the ring, making it an unpopular pick for couples. To him, it was nothing special. He turned his attention to you, who was still sputtering out explanations, embarrassed. If you just wanted it for aesthetics, you wouldn’t be this flustered. Whatever it meant to you was something he wasn’t privy to, but clearly meant a lot.

“Hey… it’s,” you finally find your words. “It’s 8:30. We have to get back so…”

Azul thankfully says nothing. He nods in agreement, and you begin your walk back to campus.

Your walk to quiet once again. You shuffle behind Azul, acting like it’s the groceries in your hands slowing you down. You try convincing yourself that getting caught wasn’t so bad. It shouldn’t have been something you were so embarrassed about. It was natural to miss your parents. It was natural to want something to remind you of them. It was natural to want to work yourself to the bone to earn some money. You didn’t mean to start crying, but you figured you needed it. It started as quiet tears, but they soon turned to sniffles, and then blubbering hiccups. By the time Azul realized you were crying, you were almost wailing.

If you were in the emotional state to pay attention, his panic would be hilarious.

He couldn’t figure out where to start. Did he hug you? Apologize? Ignore you? Tell you to stop crying? He wasn’t trying to upset you. He just wanted to know why you were acting so weird. He tentatively grabbed your arms, gripping them tightly, attempting to soothe you but only successfully shocking you out of a cry. His eyes were wide and worried as he tried to understand where he went wrong.

“Why are you doing that?! It was a ring!”

You sniffed, blinking away the tears in your eyes before frowning.

“It’s my mom’s ring.”

Azul purses his lips. You don’t need to say more than that. He’s a bit of Mama’s Boy himself. He nods slowly and releases your arms before reaching into his coat pocket. He pulls a handkerchief out and wipes your face before you can put the bags in your hands down. Your face is still puffy, but he tried his best to get all the tears and snot off of your face.

“We are extremely late. We must get back immediately so we can open on time.”

And without another word, you two finally make it to the lounge.

You finish off your first week a bit better than you started, but not by much. You’ve learned the kitchen lingo fast, but you still weren’t designed for fancy service. You had at least gotten back on Floyd and Jade’s good side, even with the occasional broken dish. You definitely understood why students earned such a high paycheck for their work at the Lounge.

After the final sweep-through, you waved goodbye to the other servers and headed to the locker room. You still hadn’t brought anything to work besides a cell phone, but you preferred sitting here rather than the official break room. You sighed and leaned your head against the lockers, eyes closed. You were utterly exhausted.

A curt, ahem, caught your attention. Standing in the doorway was Azul, eyes focused on you. Since your outburst over the weekend, you have avoided him to the best of your abilities. The embarrassment of breaking down in front of him still fluttered in your stomach. If he noticed, he didn’t show it.

“Hello Prefect. Happy to see you survived your first week,” he said, a small smile gracing his lips. It wasn’t one of his usual suave smirks, but a natural grin.

“Survive is right.” You groaned. “You run this place like a Sargent.”

“That is the restaurant business.” He laughs, approaching you. You notice an envelope in his hands.

“I noticed your improvement. Towards the end of the week, you were beginning to be a bit of help.”

“I think you mean ‘becoming a big help’?”

“No, I was very intentional with my words. You are not cut out for this.”

You put your head in your hands. You couldn’t believe he was firing you with a smile on his face.

“Great, thank you. I assume that’s my first and last paycheck?” You gesture to the envelope with one hand while the other massages the space between your eyes. Azul hums in agreement and hands it to you.

“Please do not let this deter you from visiting the Mostro Lounge again in the future. We will still honor your employee discount.” He opens his mouth like he wants to say something else, but the words don’t come out.

“Good day, Prefect.”

Azul leaves abruptly, turning on his heel and exiting in a hurry. You raise a brow but quickly turn your attention to the envelope. It's smaller than you expected, bulging strangely around the middle. You can’t help but open it in the locker room.

You pull out the contents hurriedly. First is your notice of termination. The second is a note. And lastly, is the ring.

You quickly read the note.

Prefect,

I apologize for not delivering this in person. I figured you wanted to be alone after last weekend. Please let this be a reminder that I can always help you without putting you to work. We absolutely could have worked out an arrangement to fund this ring. Nonetheless, I hope this makes up for a paycheck.

Yours sincerely,

Azul

You can’t help the grin that splits your face as you slide the ring on your finger. You’d have to tell him the truth about your feelings.

The whole truth, this time.

#twisted wonderland x reader #twst x reader #twisted wonderland #twst #disney twst #azul ashengrotto #azul ashengrotto x reader

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dilemmaontwolegs · 7 months

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Irresistible {7} || CL16

Pairing: Charles Leclerc x fem!reader, Max Verstappen x fem!reader Summary: After everything, you get a happy healthy ending. Warnings: 18+ only, nsfw, angst, smut, fluff. WC: 4.5k F1 Masterlist || One || Two || Three || Four || Five || Six || Seven

Your Playlist:

Big Girls Don’t Cry - Fergie

Pretend - Secondhand Serenade

No Right To Love You - Rhys Lewis

You Broke Me First - Tate McRae

Lose You To Love Me - Selena Gomez

The Night We Met - Lord Huron

Wicked Game - Violet Orlandi

Charles’ Playlist:

Your Call - Secondhand Serenade

The Loneliest - Mäneskin

Roses And Butterflies - Making April

Amnesia - 5sos

Miserable At Best - Mayday Parade

Love Is Gone - Slander

The Man Who Can’t Be Moved - The Script

Charles was spiralling with every mile that grew between where he was and where you were. The only updates he had from you were in the form of photos on Instagram and his concentration went into waiting for your next post instead of the preparation for the final free practice of the day. He had sent you enough unanswered messages to know you were ignoring him and it hurt more than he dared let on.

“She’s not home yet,” he said as he caught up to Max in the paddock. It was half a question and half a statement, but he needed some sort of confirmation.

“I know.” Of course Max knew. You kept in touch with him, sending him sporadic messages when you stopped to take in the beautiful countryside on the quiet roads. It should have been a four hour drive but you were content to make it last the day so you didn’t have to think about what you had left behind.

Max looked like he was going to say something else but he closed his lips as an arm curled around Charles’ waist. Whatever information he was going to offer was replaced with a simple, “I’ll see you later.”

Charles turned to Charlotte and his eyebrows pulled together in confusion. “I thought you left.”

“Because we had one little fight?”

“I would hardly call it little.”

“Whatever,” she said with a roll of her eyes. “Anyway, now that Y/N’s gone things will be so much easier between us. We can get back to how we used to be. We are good for each other, Charles.”

Charles briefly entertained the idea of pushing her away but then he remembered how lonely it was sleeping by himself. It was completely stupid to even think the relationship could go back to how it was but he was selfish, if he couldn’t have you then settling for her was going to be the next best thing.

“How about we talk after practice?” His voice was full of defeat and Charlotte knew she had already won as she kissed his cheek and let him go.

“I’ll wait in your garage.”

He faked a smile and headed after Max.

The air was stale when you stepped into the apartment, not bothering to turn on the lights as you dragged yourself down the hall and into your room. Charles’ bedroom door was still half open, the bed unmade and clothes spilling out of his drawers, sending a pang of hurt to your chest before you pulled it shut. You collapsed face first on your bed and just managed to send a message to Max letting him know you arrived safely before you let your emotional exhaustion take you under. You didn't bother to text Charles, he was probably busy anyway.

Dawn came with all the same enthusiasm that you woke with. The skyline was a watery grey and even the birds failed to raise any sort of trill with their woeful calls down on the mariner. Dew clung in the air and on your cheeks as you opened the balcony door and chased away the stale air from being closed up for weeks since the last visit.

Your memory here before the lockdown began didn’t hold a lot of details but you did remember the aroma of coffee drifting up from the cafe below the building. Unfortunately there was only the tang of salt and storm on the air as you inhaled deeply before making the call that was long overdue.

As expected your father answered straight away, the confusion clear in his voice as he realised that his little night owl was up at dawn. “Hey kiddo, is everything okay?”

“Can we have a donut day?”

You could already hear him moving around the house and he must have covered the microphone as he said a muffled goodbye to a sleepy Pascale. “On my way.”

Donut day was created the day you got your first period. As a panicking solo dad he had rushed to the supermarket for supplies, but he left with mostly donuts and other treats. Thankfully Betty was better prepared and soon arrived with everything you needed, along with calm instructions on how to use them. After that, any day that was absolutely terrible was called a donut day. You and your father would sit on the couch and scoff down a box of donuts until the comfort food worked its magic.

You paced the living room until the doorbell rang and practically tore it off the hinges in your haste. You really hadn’t noticed just how lacklustre months of video calls were until you threw your arms around your dad and buried your face in his shirt. Video calls couldn’t capture the smell of his aftershave or the feel of his beard when he kissed your forehead like you were still a little kid.

“I missed you too, pumpkin.” He pulled back to look at your face and his brows pinched together. “Rough night?”

You snorted a laugh but it cracked in your chest and your head fell down. “The last time you asked me that was in Monaco too.”

“I remember. Is this about a boy?”

You nodded and took a seat on the couch while he pensively watched from where he stood. “Will you sit down? You’re making me nervous.”

He huffed and went to the kitchen instead, grabbing a plate and emptying a bag of pastries onto it. “This is the closest to donuts I could find, sorry.”

“It’s okay, it’s not about the donuts.” You picked at a pain au chocolat while he took a seat and grabbed a pain au raisin. “I…”

You didn’t know where to begin or what to say, you just knew you had to get the truth off your chest so you could try to move on. Maybe by admitting the mistake you made, it might somehow ease the guilt you were carrying.

“A boy, right?”

“Yeah,” you murmured. “The same one actually.”

His eyebrows shot up his forehead.“From when we visited?”

“The very same.” You swallowed but the pastry seemed to coat your throat and you nearly choked before you abandoned it. “It was Charles.”

“Oh,” he said with a nod before it seemed to connect and his eyes widened. “Oh…well…shit..”

“I should have said something sooner but I didn’t want to make things awkward for you and Pascale but I…I really fucked up, dad.”

You could practically see his thoughts crossing his face as he remembered how you had called him the first day, asking to stay anywhere else. A heavy sigh fell and he seemed to deflate into the couch cushions. “I thought you were with Max?”

Your eyes narrowed but you didn’t deny it. “How do you know that?”

“Charlotte posted a picture of you and him the other night.”

“That bitch is a-”

“Uh-uh, no,” he tutted. “Correct me if I am wrong but I am going to assume you and Charles have been more than just friends…”

Your silence was damning.

“I don’t think you have the moral high ground to go around calling her a bitch then. I raised you better than that. Does Max know about Charles?”

“Max knows everything,” you admitted quietly, still feeling the sting of the reprimand. “He’s good for me.”

“Okay, so then what’s the problem?”

“I just really thought it was a chance - with Charles. We made plans, a future, I could see it.” Now all you saw was the note on the table and how he chased after Charlotte. “It was stupid and naive and I feel so embarrassed.”

“Love makes everyone stupid at some point.” Your father sighed again before wrapping his arm around you. “So Max huh? You know he’s got a bit of a reputation. Bit of a hot head.”

You wiped away the tears that had been building and scoffed. “Don’t believe everything you see in the media. They portray Charles as this wholesome boy next door and Max as an angry man child. Both are wrong.”

You grabbed the pastry and ate it, this time able to stomach the idea of food, before grabbing another. It wasn’t as sweet as a donut but the sugar from the chocolate was starting to hit your blood and perk you up.

“I can’t live here anymore. Not Monaco,” you corrected when you saw his eyes widen. “Just here, with Charles. I need somewhere away from him.”

You didn’t know the exact reason why your mother left but you thought maybe she felt like this, maybe it was healthier to leave than to stay.

“The house isn’t finished but the kitchen and your bathroom are done, so it’s livable. You’ll need some moving boxes. A lot by the looks,” your father said as he stood up and looked around the room to see your belongings strewn across the place. “I’ll be back soon.”

“You’re not going to give me a lecture?” you asked as he made his way to the door.

He scanned your features that reminded him so much of your mother. “You look like you’ve learned your lesson to me. Do you need one?”

You shook your head meekly and he nodded to himself. “I’ll be back with some boxes soon.”

“Hello, handsome,” you greeted Max as soon as the video connected. He had just returned to his hotel after qualifying and securing the 5th starting place on the grid. “I’ve found a new hobby, painting.”

His smile brightened at your mood that had dramatically lifted in the past 24 hours and you showed him around your new bedroom. Paint bottles lined a sheet-covered table and dirty brushes sat in a murky jar of water, but you panned across the wall to show him the artwork you had made.

“What is it?” he asked with a forehead crumpled in confusion. He tilted his head trying to see from a different angle but he still couldn’t process the splatterings - it reminded him of a Rorschach test, one he was doing badly at.

“I didn’t say I was good,” you clarified with a laugh as you also tried to interpret the design that was no longer just on the walls. It was a good thing the carpet hadn’t been laid yet. You had tried to push the hair out of your face and smeared paint across your cheek and it had ended up everywhere by the time you were finished. “It is a mess just like me.”

“You're not a mess, schat,” Max said as he sat at the end of his bed and fell back to watch the tour of the rest of the house. “Are you okay there on your own?”

“It’s certainly quieter than the paddock, that will take a bit of getting used to, but I don’t mind it too much.” You did miss the other friends you had made at Ferrari, but felt it was best to give everyone in red a wide berth for a while. You had seen how poorly Charles qualified and knew he wasn’t at his best partly because of you. You still hadn’t been able to answer his calls or texts.

“Well, you could come back, if you want, you’ll always be welcome at Red Bull.”

“If you miss me, you can just say that,” you teased and he sat up.

He combed a hand through his damp hair and you bit your lip remembering how it felt to be the one doing that. “I do miss you,” he admitted seriously. “That’s why I’m coming back first thing Monday morning - I owe you breakfast.”

“You know there are no cafes open?”

Max smirked and the sight made your heart skip a beat. “Who said anything about a cafe?”

You wanted to know what his plans were but there was a knock at his door and Daniel’s voice reached you through the phone. Max was tempted to let Daniel continue pounding on the door but you both knew he wouldn’t leave quietly and Max groaned at that truth. “Go answer that, I’ll call you in the morning.”

Max dragged his feet as he padded across the room. “I would rather talk to you.”

“Me too.”

“Finish the phone sex already, you pervs,” Daniel shouted through the door before Max ripped it open.

“Oh, oh, yes, Max, don’t stop,” you called out, turning Max’s ears pink as he rushed to turn the phone around and show Daniel the screen and just how fully clothed you were. “Sorry to disappoint you, Danny, no phone sex - this time.”

It was only when Daniel bent over laughing that you saw he wasn’t alone. Charles was out in the hallway with Carlos and Lando, his eyes falling to the carpet when you noticed him.

“We’re getting dinner, you wanna come?” Daniel asked, and thankfully the phone rotated back to Max who looked a little torn at the offer.

“He does,” you answered for him before he could decline just to talk with you a little while longer.

“I’ll call you in the morning, schat.”

“Okay, have fun.”

Charles found nothing to celebrate when the race ended so he made his way home before the rest of the crew even realised it. He thought his weekend couldn’t get any worse after he DNF’d. The only silver lining was that despite his better qualifying, Max had also failed to finish the race. But he still won where it really mattered when it came to you.

Charles pulled into the apartment complex and saw a new sleek black Mercedes AMG parked in one of his many reserved spaces and hope fluttered in his chest. He grabbed his suitcase and darted up the stairwell to his apartment, nearly snapping the key in his haste to unlock the door. That hope turned to ash when he found it eerily silent and every inch of the place perfectly tidy. It was unlived.

The artwork you had purchased still hung on the walls and the shaggy rug he had made love to you on still covered the floor, but the spirit of it all was gone. The colours of the paintings were drained and the temperature controlled air was no longer comfortable. He didn’t even need to go to your room and check, he knew you were gone.

He knew you were gone the moment he saw you on the video call to Max. He had gone with his mother to her new house enough times to know what it looked like, even if it appeared that a rainbow vomited all over the walls. The truth just hadn’t really settled in until he stepped across the threshold and into the house that was once a home.

You had tidied the place as if you were cleaning a crime scene and needed to scrub away all evidence of being there except you couldn’t get it all. You still remained in the pantry cupboards where everything was labelled in your handwriting. You still remained in the linen closet where you folded the sheets and the towels into perfect rectangles. You still remained in the scented candles that sat on the centrepiece of the table.

Charles’ eyes stung as they lingered on the table where the keys to the apartment and the Mercedes sat, right next to his credit card and the picture you kept in your wallet.

Kicking the door closed, he abandoned his suitcase and rushed down the hall. His heart hammered knowing what he would find but he had to check as he pushed open your bedroom door. No, it wasn’t your bedroom anymore, it was a guest room.

The feminine floral duvet his mother had chosen was gone, replaced with a plain white coverlet, and the windows were latched slightly open so whatever scent of yours he may have been able to save had already been cast away to the breeze.

“Fuck!” he screamed as he punched his fist into the mattress. “Fuuuuucckk!!!”

Max must have left before Pierre had finished partying after his shock win. It wasn’t even morning really as the sun was still cresting over the hills, and it was far earlier than you were expecting him. You thought perhaps you were dreaming when you woke to a knock and opened the door to find Max on your front steps.

“Oh my god, are you okay?” you asked as you pulled him inside and inspected the bags under his eyes.

“I’m better now,” he said as he wrapped his arms around you and buried his face in your hair. “I told you I missed you.”

“I missed you too,” you murmured into his chest before pulling away so you could look into his eyes. “You need to sleep.”

“I’ll be fine, I have plans first.”

“Your plans can wait.” You took his hand and led him through the house to your room that overlooked the mariner. Your blankets were still warm as you nestled under the covers and patted the empty space beside you. “You’re not going to be comfortable in jeans.”

“Five minutes and you’re already trying to get me naked,” he teased as he pulled his shirt over his head before he unbuttoned his jeans.

“I never said naked,” you pointed out. The air froze in your lungs as he pushed them down his muscular thighs and you swallowed at the sight before.

“I’m not wearing boxers.”

“No, you certainly are not.” Your tongue rolled across your lips as you drank in every inch of him, the idea of sleep quickly departing your mind. Almost everything departed your mind, except want. “I think I am overdressed.”

“You make a habit of that.”

“I do, don’t I. Maybe you should come help me fix that.”

Max didn’t need to be told twice, he had been waiting for this moment since he had the memory of how your body felt against his. He pulled the covers back and knelt between your legs, his hands roaming up your body and under the baggy shirt of a band he didn’t know. The morning air was cool on your skin as you lifted your arms and he discarded the shirt over the side of the bed.

“You’re so fucking beautiful,” he murmured as he traced his lips over your racing pulse. A fiery trail of goosebumps remained where his kiss had been and he made his way to your lips before stealing the very breath from your lungs.

Your own hands went roaming, feeling his muscles tense beneath your touch until you reached his proud erection. He shuddered above you and moaned into your mouth before he pulled back. “I need you,” you begged, unabashedly. “Please, Max.”

His hands reached for your panties and the lace tickled as he dragged them down your legs. Even with your begging, he didn’t immediately bury himself in you. He took his time, settling back between your legs. He gently massaged your inner thighs with his strong hands, his thumbs dancing teasingly close to your core until a strangled whine escaped you.

“Relax, schat,” he said softly. “I’ll take care of you.”

He shifted onto his stomach and dipped his head to your core. You lost the ability to think as he gripped your hips and tugged you right onto his open mouth. A wordless cry filled the room and it took a second to understand it was coming from you as you lost yourself in the pleasure Max was giving you. You knew Max had an internal drive to succeed at everything he did and this was no different. He was determined to taste you completely and drive you into oblivion with his tongue and his fingers before he thoroughly fucked you.

Max looked wild and untamed as you came undone around his fingers and he savoured the taste of you on his tongue as he rose above you. His eyes were dark and his lips swollen, his chin was damp and his smile satisfied.

“Hi,” he chuckled with amusement. “Feeling alright?”

“Mhmm,” you hummed, because correlating a conscious thought into words seemed impossible as your body still trembled with aftershocks.

“Would you like a break?”

You reached between your bodies and wrapped your hand around his cock, guiding him closer to your entrance. “No, I want you, Max.”

“Completely sober, right?” he confirmed as the head pressed to your wet core.

“Not quite,” you teased, his brows pinching together at the words, “I’m drunk on you.”

The relief in his eyes was palpable and you cradled his face in your palm as you wrapped your legs around his hips. Your bodies united torturously slowly and your eyes fluttered at the fullness when every delicious inch was seated inside, your lips parting with a heady sigh.

“Open your eyes, schat.”

You obeyed in an instant, watching him watch you before his eyes drifted down your bodies. His lip was pinched between his teeth and he groaned at the sight of your pussy taking him so well, something he made sure to tell you.

“Fuck,” you choked as his words made your cunt clench in response, each thrust burying him deep in your cunt until stars dotted your vision and you were tipped over the edge into another orgasm. “Fuuuckk…”

Six months later. “Babe, have you seen my shoes?” Your voice carried throughout the large penthouse apartment you had moved into with Max when the season ended.

“Here, with your dress,” he called out from the living room.

You followed his voice and found the luggage being neatly stacked by the door. He pointed to the two garment bags hanging from the coat rack and at the bottom of the longer one were your heels, next to his polished dress shoes.

“I packed your coat too,” Max said, kissing your temple as he passed to get the car keys.

With the COVID restrictions being lifted Pascale hadn’t wanted to wait a minute longer for the wedding, so winter nuptials in February was the go. At least they were taking place in Sicily so it would be a little warmer, but of course Max would think to pack a coat for when the temperatures dropped at night. He was always thoughtful like that.

“Did you want a coffee?” you asked as you turned on the machine and put your travel mug under it. It was only a three hour flight on Max’s private jet, but you hadn’t slept well with the knowledge you would see Charles for the first time since Christmas.

Cordial is how you would describe that relationship. The familiarity and intimacy was gone, replaced with standoffish politeness. You were both trying to find where the line could be drawn on a platonic friendship that had the history of more and it was slow going. You didn’t want anything you said or did around him to be misconstrued.

Max made you happy, and just as importantly, Max was healthy for you. You did sometimes wonder if he tried harder to be better because he had witnessed toxic relationships growing up. He knew how that toxicity could poison and break someone so there was a conscious effort in the way he spoke and acted to everyone around him. Even Charles.

That was why he had offered his plane for everyone to use, including Charles and Charlotte. For better or for worse, Charles was going to be a part of your family in less than 24 hours and Max respected that. Like he said, he didn’t care about your past and your future was one with him.

“Schatje,” Max called, one hand on your waist, the other reaching past you to the overflowing mug in the coffee machine. “Everything alright?”

You came back to the present with a few blinks and turned in his arms, surprising him with a deep kiss as you fisted his shirt and pulled him closer. “I love you.”

“I love you too.” He pulled back to see your face. “What’s wrong?”

“Nothing,” you said with a shake of your head but he saw right through it. “Everything you’ve done for me…a simple ‘I love you’ just doesn’t seem enough. I can never say it enough.”

Max’s hands cradled your jaw and he dipped his head to indulge in a slow but thorough kiss that had your stomach clenching with a fresh wave of desire. When he pulled back this time he smiled as he found the clear want and need for him written on your face. “It’s enough for me.”

He turned the machine off and poured the ruined coffee down the sink. “I’ll get you a proper coffee on the way to the airport. We should get going, can’t have the best woman be late for the rehearsal.”

“I think dad settled on the term groomsmaid,” you corrected with a laugh. You had nearly cried when he asked you to be his best man, before accepting the honour. It was fitting considering the bridesmaids were Pascale’s sons. “It’s not too late if you want to be a flower girl?”

He grinned and his eyes flicked to the door where the dress you had paraded for him last night hung. “I’m quite happy to sit back and watch.”

“If I recall, you didn’t sit still for long. I hope you have more self restraint for the ceremony.”

“For the ceremony, yes. But as soon as we hit the hotel room you’re mine and that dress will be on the floor, I promise you.”

You bit your lip at the promise, knowing he would keep it just like every other one he had made.

“We should probably go before I do something that makes us very late,” Max groaned, stepping away from your tempting body.

“Ugh, fine.”

The ceremony was more than just a wedding and it represented the joining of the Leclerc’s and the Y/LN’s, something that had surprised you and also made you grateful for having waterproof mascara. You didn’t dare look at Charles when the celebrant spoke about the union of the two families, but Arthur grinned and Enzo winked, your father narrowed his eyes and you laughed.

The celebrant, thankfully, didn’t understand.

The cashmere coat Max had packed hung over the bag of your chair as night fell and you danced with him under the open stars. The only light came from the fairy lights strung around the stone pillars that had survived centuries on the island. His arms kept you warm as you swayed to the music and you spoke quietly to each other in a world of your own.

“Hey, can I, uh, can I cut in?” Charles asked hesitantly.

You took a deep breath as you debated the question, your eyes glancing around and quickly finding Charlotte at a table with Arthur and his girlfriend. You looked at Max to see if it was okay. He just smiled and kissed your cheek, whispering, “I’ll get us a drink.”

Charles waited until Max had made it off the dance floor before offering his hand, the other coming to rest on your waist. The first step was tentative, like he wasn’t sure you were actually going to follow his lead. “You look happy,” he said after a few more steps.

“I am.”

He nodded to himself, looking at Charlotte. “Good. That’s good.”

He looked miserable. “I hope you find real happiness one day.” You were being honest.

“I had it.” And he was being honest too. “I’m sorry, I don’t think I ever really apologised, not properly.”

“It’s fine, if it wasn’t for you I wouldn’t have met Max.”

“It was meant to be us, though, right?” His eyes were begging you to agree with him but you had spent sleepless nights poring over the very same question.

“I think our paths crossed to make sure our parents met,” you admitted, smiling at the newlyweds as they danced too. You had never seen your dad happier.

“You really believe that?”

The song came to an end and you found Max returning from the bar with two drinks in his hand. “I have to,” you said as you slipped out of Charles’ arms. You swallowed the lump in your throat and took a step away from him.

“Why?” He took a step closer, only stopping when you took another step back and held up your hand. “Why?”

You took a calming breath and steadied your voice. “Because the alternative would only break my heart again.”

#max verstappen fanfic #max verstappen imagine #max verstappen x reader #charles leclerc fanfic #charles leclerc x reader #f1 fanfic #f1 imagine #formula one imagine #formula 1 fanfic #formula one fanfiction #f1 x reader #f1 x y/n #f1 x you #max verstappen smut #f1 smut

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heaven-s-black-box · 10 days

Text

Notes- Sleeping In Anemo Boys

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Recovery date: September 15th, 2024

Description: hiii i'm back again!! Im the anon who requested the shorter s/o one, and this time can i get the gn!reader sleeping in with the anemo boys (separately ofc) and anyone of your choosing? Thank youuuu ^^

Notes: This work was recovered in conjunction with an anonymous researcher, we thank them for their contributions. Welcome back! I would have added more, but then this post would be too long, so I might make a second part of sorts because this was cute.

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Venti

Sleeping in is a regular occurrence

He calls it a perk of retirement

You call it the consequences of his actions (staying at Angel’s Share late)

Venti’s surprisingly strong, if he doesn’t want you getting out of bed you won’t

If he wakes up before you he just watches you sleep

There’s an entire ballad dedicated to you’re sleeping face in the late morning sun

All anonymous of course, the reality is his secret

Xiao

He doesn’t sleep

He will, however, lay beside you

When you sleep in he’s torn because on one hand he has patrol and on the other…

He feels at peace

If you lean into/ on him at all he will not move

Why do his eyes feel heavy?

Closing them for a moment shouldn’t hurt

Run your fingers through his hair and let him sleep please, he deserves a break

Kazuha

Dude’s sleep schedule is so messed up

Between the constant traveling and being up at the crack of dawn on the Crux

He could go to sleep at 1 AM and still be up at 5 AM

But once he settles back down in Inazuma, you’re surprised to wake up before him

The sun is very clearly coming through the window, so it’s weird his head is still against your chest

Whatever, you can’t remember what you needed to do anyways

Heizou

Another with a messy sleep schedule

Investigations have no set hours

But after a long one, he’ll take a day off and sleep in

He wasn’t there when you went to bed, you weren’t even sure when to expect him back

The noises outside the house tell you businesses are just opening to customers

It looks like you’ll be having a late breakfast, what with the way he pulls you closer in his sleep

His eyes open slightly and he mumbles something about it being too early

Sure, it’s too early, for lunch that is; Should probably wait a little longer

Wanderer

Doesn’t sleep

But unlike Xiao he can’t even fall asleep? If that makes sense

He pretends though

You wake up at some ungodly hour, your classes putting you on a weird schedule

His eyes are closed and his “heartbeat” is even

There aren’t any classes or responsibilities today, so you curl into his side and close your eyes again

As soon as you settle back down, he cracks an eye open

He’s gotten good at this

Aether

Hates sleeping in, his sister is out there somewhere and he needs to find her

But sometimes he can’t help it

The stress and injuries weigh him down

He wakes up to your fingers loosely re braiding his hair and wrapping the strands around your fingers

His body is in pain, and the first person he calls for, is you

Not his sister who’d plagued his dreams for years, who he often called for in the dead of night

But you, who holds him close and lets him rest if for a moment

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forays-into-fiction · 2 years

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Bambi

Eddie thinks he’ll be the one to corrupt her, little does he know she’s already kinkier and more depraved than his wildest dreams.

Eddie x Bambi Masterlist

Minors DNI

I keep getting carried away with these, this is over 7000 words! I tried to balance fluffy, sweet and goofy with filthy, smutty and kinky, hopefully I pulled off the combo and it’s not too cringy lol.

@hard-candy-writing is to blame for this one, she put the idea in my head with this post and I just ran with it. It’s maybe not quite exactly the same as that post, but still in the same spirit. Also, check out her fics too they’re brilliant!

Contains: Perv!Eddie/Not So Innocent!Girly!Reader, Fluff, Mutual Masturbation, Corruption Kink, Unprotected Sex, Sex Toys, Bondage/Handcuffs, Mentions of Oral/Hints of Oral Fixation, Cum Eating, Dirty Talk, Honorifics/ Petnames (Sir, Bambi, Baby, Sweetheart, Princess), Collaring, Praise Kink, The Slightest Degredation/Name-calling (Slut), Dom!Eddie/Sub!Reader

You practically skip over to his table where he sits surrounded by the rest of the Hellfire Club. Eddie can’t imagine what you’d want with him as you approach him, all frills and ruffles, your hair tied into pigtails with little bows. You come to stand beside him bouncing on the balls of your feet, hands clasped together in front of you over your little, pleated snow-white skirt.

“Hi Eddie!” Your tone sweet as sugar, giving him a bright, dazzling smile.

“Uh… hi there, sweetheart. What can I do for you?” He asks, eyeing you quizzically.

“I was wondering if you’d wanna go out for milkshakes with me?” You ask shyly glancing down, toying with the charm bracelet around your wrist. What Eddie doesn’t realise though, is that your eyes end up glued to his little handcuff belt buckle as your mind races… wondering if he’d have an actual set of cuffs or if that was just part of his ‘style’.

He looks at you sceptically, “Me? You wanna go out… with me?” he points to his chest.

You look back up at him giggling, “Duh, silly that’s why I asked you.”

“Really? This isn’t some kind of joke or something?” His eyes narrow at you.

It breaks your heart to hear him say that, “Of course not, that would be horrible! I would never do that!” You insist, pouting at him.

“Alright. If you say so.” He shrugs, still can’t believe his ears.

“Ok, so I guess I’ll meet you by your van after school?”

“Yeah, sure.” He replies unconvinced.

“Ok, well bye guys! See you later Eddie!” You wave to the group before bouncing away.

He spends the whole day thinking this had to be some sort of prank, there’s no way you’d actually be waiting for him. But lo and behold there you are leaning against the side of his van at the end of the day, he watches as you bend to peer in a sidemirror, reapplying your lip-gloss and smacking your lips.

As you stand back upright you catch sight of him, grinning and waving with your arm stretched up high, calling his name excitedly. He almost has to pinch himself, he can’t believe his eyes.

“So… milkshakes, was it?” He confirms as he approaches you.

“Yes, please.” You nod hopping into his van as he holds the door open for you.

The pair of you sit in the diner in a booth opposite one another, he orders chocolate, you order strawberry. When your milkshakes arrive, topped with whipped cream and cherries, Eddie picks his cherry off placing it beside his glass on a napkin.

You pluck the cherry off of yours popping it between your lips, humming in delight, “Mmmh, my favourite.” Then swiping a finger through the cream and sucking it off the tip.

Eddie gapes at you, you can’t know what you’re doing right, there’s no way, but you barely notice his reaction. You eye his cherry greedily, “You gonna eat that?” You point to it.

Eddie chokes in response, “Nope… uh, all yours.”

“Thanks.” You reply swooping in to steal it off his napkin without hesitation.

He’d never tell you, but he’d actually been saving the cherry for last.

He soon finds that there’s nothing he wouldn’t do for his little princess. All too quickly becoming your personal chauffeur anywhere you wanted to go. He’d even let you listen to all your girly pop music, just to see how happy it made you. Not that he’d ever even pretend to like it, but he tolerates it, for you.

Until one day when you suggest, “Hey, Eds. Why don’t we listen to some of your music for a change?”

And he leaps at the chance, scrambling to find one of his cassettes popping it in for you. He’s surprised to find you actually like it, as you nod along, tapping your foot to the beat.

“What’s this song, Eds?” You hum curiously.

“Oh, uh it’s called Rainbow in the Dark, it’s by Dio.”

“Oh, like on your back patch, right?” You ask eagerly.

His chest swells more than he thought possible, full of happiness, “Yep that’s right, sweetheart. Can’t believe you remember things like that.”

“Is this the sort of music your band plays?”

“Yeah, I guess kinda.” He shrugs.

“Maybe I could come see you guys play at that bar you guys perform at.” You suggest hopefully.

He shakes his head, “Oh, no, no, no sweetheart The Hideout isn’t the type of place for you and plus it’s on a school night.”

You pout in response, going to protest, “But…”

Your protests die on your lips as he offers, “But you could come to band practice… if you wanted.”

“Really? That’s perfect, thanks Eds.”

“I can’t believe I didn’t think to invite you sooner. I guess I just thought you wouldn’t be into it.”

“Of course I’m into it. You’re my boyfriend, why wouldn’t I want to support you?”

He jerks in his seat, stuttering awkwardly, “I’m your… your boyfriend?”

Your stomach drops, was it too early, you’d only been on a handful of dates, this’d be your fourth, “Oh, uh yeah… unless… unless you don’t want to be…”

“No! I mean I do… want to be your boyfriend… want you to be my girlfriend … I just… it’s… never-mind. Yeah, I’m your boyfriend.” He settles back into the seat goofy grin plastered across his face.

When you get to your destination, he leaps out trotting around the hood of the van to open your door for you as usual, offering you his hand to help you down. You giggle and take his hand, he shuts the door behind you and you lead him away from the van, his hand still clasped in yours.

An idea strikes him all of a sudden, tugging on your hand gently and spinning you to face him. He’s blurting out, stumbling over his words, “Uhhhh, hey sweetheart, I know it’s not really your style or whatever, but uh… I want… now you’re like officially my girlfriend I want to… to give you something. Show everyone you’re mine.”

He fishes around under the collar of his shirt as he speaks. You bite your lip, without even knowing it, he’s got you pegged right from the start. You wanna be his, let everyone know it, let him claim you.

He pulls out his guitar pick necklace and twists your hand so that it faces palm up. He drops the pick into your hand, slowly lowering the chain to coil up alongside it.

He looks into your eyes nervously, hand reaching up to rub the back of his neck “You don’t have to wear it or anything if you don’t want. I can get you something better once I save a bit more money-”

You cut him off with a short kiss to his lips, before slipping the chain over your head, squealing, “No! Eddie, I love it! I’m going to wear it all the time!”

He stares down at your chest as his pick settles between your breasts, wrapped up as they are in your snug, little pink cardigan before gazing back up at you.

He breathes out a sigh of relief, she likes it, thank fucking Christ, he thinks to himself with a dopey grin. Floating back down to earth his grin fading slightly, but not disappearing, he clears his throat, “Alright, come on let’s go before we’re late for the movie.”

He swaps positions with you now taking the lead, making sure he stands curb-side as he pulls you to walk alongside him. You tug on his arm and he pauses turning to you as you speak, “Wait… I wanna give you something too.”

You reach into your hair tugging on the end of a ribbon, you’d had wrapped around like a headband. It falls away and you bring his hand closer to you, looping it around his wrist beside the chain bracelet that’s already there and tying a bow.

He glances down, watching your nimble fingers working the soft, pink material. It stands out on his arm, a pop of colour amidst the darkness. He feels like his heart is about to burst out of his chest, still can’t believe any of this is real.

He stares at his wrist for a beat, before you break him out of it, “Ok, now let’s go.”

“Yeah, sure thing Bambi.” He mumbles.

He’d started in with that nickname a little while ago, but you’re still not quite sure why. All the little nicknames he called you brought you so much joy. Every ‘baby’, ‘sweetheart’, ‘princess’… you cherished them all.

Despite being your boyfriend now, he’d never felt like more of a perv than when he’s around you. He wants to take it slow with you, not rush you into anything you’re not comfortable with.

However, he finds he can’t contain himself, stealing your dirty panties, peeping on you in the shower, jerking off into your lotion imagining you rubbing it into your skin the next day.

When you offer up your shower to him one day with a, ‘…why don’t you just shower here, silly. I don’t mind’, he does the same with your body wash this time. He’s surrounded by you, your scent, absolutely falling to pieces.

The smell of you clings to him for the rest of the day, can’t resist twisting his hair in front of his face, smelling your shampoo grinning stupidly. He ends up jerking off about three more times that day.

He feels conflicted about it though, he shouldn’t be thinking of you like that, cute, innocent little y/n. There’s a part of him that wants to corrupt you, give in to all his devilishly, sinful thoughts, have his way with you. But it’s wrong, so wrong and the guilt eats him up.

It takes a while before you convince him to let you visit him at his place, he’s never been embarrassed about where he lives per se but when he compares his trailer to your perfectly, picturesque white picket fence suburbia he feels he doesn’t quite measure up. You on the other hand couldn’t care less.

“Oh, look Eds! A puppy!” You squeal pointing at the dog behind the fence trotting off to get a closer look, dirtying your white trainers in the mud without even noticing.

You bend at the waist offering your hand for the dog to sniff before scratching at its head. Your skirt rides up and flutters with a gust of wind, Eddie catches sight of the black ink at the junction of your hip, eyes bulging out of his skull, almost choking on his own tongue, “You have a tattoo?!”

“Mhmm.” You hum distractedly, fully focused on the dog in front of you.

“Can… can I see it?”

“Oh, yeah sure.” You stand turning to face him.

You scan the street for any potential witnesses, seeing none, you flip your skirt up, the little, trussed up kitten on full display beside your little lilac and white polka dot panties. Eddie chokes out a gasp, barely getting a glimpse at it before he’s rushing over to you pulling your skirt back down to cover you, “Bambi, you can’t just do that in the middle of the street!” He shrieks in a pitchy voice.

“What, why not? There’s no one here.” You protest, his hand grips your wrist and he’s dragging you into his trailer.

As soon as he gets you inside, he rounds on you, answering, “Anyone could see you out there, you don’t know the kinda pervs that live here!”

“Awww, you one of those pervs Eds?” You giggle.

He splutters, “What? No! Why would you think that?”

“It’s ok, I’m only teasing.” You prod at his shoulder, “Hey, uh I wanted to ask… um, can I paint your nails?” You give him your very best puppy dog eyes.

He looks down at you quizzically, “Uh, why?”

“I think it’d look hot, especially with your rings. Don’t worry I got black, got it special just for you.”

“Oh, sweetheart that’s adorable, you got it just for me?”

You nod eagerly, “Uhh huh. What do you think? Can I?”

He smirks, “You really think it’d be ‘hot’?”

“Yeah, sooo hot Eds, you have no idea.”

“Ok then. Did you wanna do it now?” He concedes.

“Yes, please!” You bounce, unable to contain your excitement and he chuckles at you.

“Come on, let’s head into my room then.”

He leads the way and you trail along behind him, he’d tidied up his room specially for you, hiding away a few choice items he thought you shouldn’t see. You don’t notice when he stiffens a little as he realises there’s something he missed. He spots a pair of your panties, stained with his cum poking out from under his bed he surges forward kicking them further under before doing an odd twirl spreading his arms and shouting a little louder than necessary, “Well, this is it!”

You grin at him, looking around the room you announce, “It’s great Eds, very you, I like it.”

Slipping your little powder blue backpack off your shoulders, setting it down on his bed and digging through it to pull out that bottle of black nail polish. You hold it up triumphantly before sitting on the edge of his bed, waving him over, “ You got some tissues or something around, don’t wanna ruin my skirt.”

“Yeah, just a sec.” He mumbles rushing off.

You take another glance around his room, giddy with excitement, you were in his room, on his bed.

He tumbles back in clutching a box of tissues, thrusting it into your arms, “Here ya go.”

You set the box down beside you, pulling a couple out and laying them over your thigh before looking up at him, “Sit please. On the floor, just there would be good.” You spread your legs a little giving him a space to slot into in front of you.

“Oh… uh… ok I guess.” He sinks to the floor on his knees.

“Thank you.” You grin at him sickly sweet. “Now I just need your hand.”

He nods offering you one and you grip it gently, bringing it to rest on your thigh over the tissue there. His fingers tremble slightly, breath catching in his throat as you let go of his hand leaving it there to open the nail polish.

He’s suddenly hyperaware of his position between your legs, his hand on your thigh. His thoughts drift to the panties under his bed as a blush spreads over his cheeks, down his neck and his dick swells between his legs.

You get to work painting his nails, tongue poking out between your teeth in concentration. When you finish one hand you bring it up to your lips, blowing over his fingers gently. His eyes dart between your glossy lips and your eyes, he has to fight back a moan.

“Next please! And careful with that hand it’s not going to be completely dry yet. Don’t want it to smudge.” You instruct him.

He nods mutely, painted hand dropping to rest on the bed beside you, you grab at the other and repeat the process.

“All done!” You hum smiling at him, “Now you gotta let them dry, you can blow on ‘em too. How about we put on one of your records and just relax for a bit?” You suggest.

He nods in agreement and you extricate yourself from your spot on the bed. Moving over to his record player that you’d spotted earlier, flipping through his collection and picking out one at random you set it up. Music fills the room, through the crackly speaker and you flop back onto his bed. He remains on the floor beside you.

You lean back sighing contentedly staring up at the ceiling when a thought occurs to you, propping yourself up on one arm you turn to him, “Hey, Eds?”

“Hmmm?”

“Why do you call me ‘Bambi’ all the time?”

“Well, it’s cause you’re all cute and innocent.” He states matter-of-factly.

“But I’m not though.” You pout back at him.

“What do you mean, sweetheart?”

“‘M not innocent, don’t know why everyone thinks I am.”

“But you are.” He insists.

“I’m not, you’ll see.” You protest.

He chuckles to himself, “Ok, sweetheart, if you say so.”

“You will see, next time we’re at my place. I promise.”

He scrambles up the trellis outside your bedroom, hoisting himself onto the roof. Just as he pops his head around to peer into your window, hand raised to knock against the glass he sees you. Completely bare… scratch that, bare except for the frilly little panties tangled around your ankle and his guitar pick bouncing around between the swell of your breasts.

His breath catches in his throat, did you forget that you had invited him over? He can finally get a good look at that tattoo on your thigh by your hip. A fluffy kitten, paws under its chin, all knotted up in baby pink rope, a shibari design, the tail end of the rope clasped in its mouth, golden bell hanging off of it, surrounded by berries and leaves. Cute and innocent but also so very filthy at the same time, his mouth waters at the sight.

You’re sitting atop your large stuffed white tiger, Mr Stripes as he recalls from when you’d spread out all your stuffies introducing them all to him by name, one by one.

You’re thrusting away with abandon, grinding against the tigers back, clutching at the stuffed head in front of you, your head thrown back moaning wantonly. He can hear it even through the glass, then suddenly your eyes are drawn to the window and you spot him, crouched there staring at you slack jawed.

You hop off the tiger eyes lighting up, your panties slip away onto the floor as you bounce over to the window calling out his name. Pushing it open you pull him in with a hand scrunched into the front of his shirt.

He stumbles through the window and you drag him over to sit on the edge of your bed. He grabs for the nearest item to shove into his crotch, hiding his raging erection.

“Wh-what’re you doing?” He gasps.

“Eddie don’t be silly, you know what I’m doing, I was just about to cum when you got here… can I… can I keep going?”

“Bambi, I don’t think I should… we shouldn’t…”

“Please, Eds wanna finish. I want you to watch.” You pout at him

“Fuck… I… ok, yeah you can finish.”

You squeal and kiss the tip of his nose, “Thank you. Now watch, ok… and you don’t need to hide behind Miss Flopsy ya know, I already know you’re hard.”

He glances down at his lap and realises he had in fact grabbed your fluffy, floppy eared bunny, slowly removing it and placing it to the side a little awkwardly.

You hop back on top of the stuffed tiger resuming the roll of your hips and bringing one hand up to tweak at your nipple as you look directly into his eyes. He balls his hands into fists at his knees, clenching and unclenching them, swallowing harshly his Adam’s apple bobs up and down.

You moan and whine grinding into the fuzz beneath you, when an idea springs to your mind, “Edddiieee… can you take your cock out for me, please? Wanna watch you touching yourself when I cum.”

He splutters and chokes at your words, hesitating before he responds, despite everything in him screaming to do exactly what you just asked for, “Are you sure? Like really, really sure?”

You pout at him, “Yes Eds, I told you I’m not as innocent as everyone thinks I am, ok. Please I want this.”

“And you’re not just doing this to prove a point right? I don’t want you doing anything you’ll regret.”

“No, Eddie please just let me watch you, let me give you a show.”

His hands fumble at his belt as he breaths out heavily, “Jesus Christ Bambi, where is all this coming from?”

“Hurry up Eds, need to see you, ‘m so close.”

He hurriedly pulls his cock free of its confines, his wet tip glistens and you gasp at the sight, “Yes Eddie, thank you.”

His hand glides up and down his length with ease, precum already bubbling up at the head adding to the slick shlucking sound that is produced as he fists his cock desperately, he’s almost embarrassed at how close he is already.

You moan encouragingly, “Such a pretty cock, look how pink it is… and shiny. Just wanna suck on it. Bet it’s sweet like a lolly, will you let me taste it?”

“Fuck, fuck, fuck… I’m gonna cum… you gonna cum with me Bambi?”

“God yes! Eddiiieee…” You wail as your hips move to match his pace, the dam inside you breaking and giving way to your body wracking orgasm. Your head thrown back, eyes rolling into your skull, hands digging into the stuffed toy beneath you in a vicelike grip as you ride it out.

“Fuck, y/n.” He groans coating his fist in his release as it sprays all over the blush pink duvet on the bed. He falls back limply, eyes drooping, gasping as he tries to catch his breath.

You pant, chest heaving, as you look at his messy hand still clasped around his cock. You slide off the stuffed toy inching closer to him, you grasp his wrist pulling his hand up to your face. His eyes snap open, looking at you curiously. You lick away his thick, white cream, your tongue laving over each digit, paying extra special attention to his ring-clad fingers. He lets out a guttural moan and you suck his pointer finger all the way into your mouth, swirling your tongue around it.

He pulls his hand away, gasping “Stop, stop. What are you doing?”

His reaction stings, an awful feeling settling in your belly… you’d done it again, gone too far. Tears well up in your eyes, and you blubber, “S-s-sorry…”

The urge to comfort you overtakes all else and he’s scooping you into his lap, completely forgetting that you’re totally naked, that he’s still got his pants rolled down, cock out. He pulls you against his chest, you press your face into the crook of his neck, shoulders shaking as he rubs your back soothingly.

“Hey, no, no, don’t cry. I should have stopped it sooner. You were too far gone, I should have known better.”

All at once he becomes acutely aware of your wet, puffy folds on top of him, his dick swelling in response… Oh god, no not now, not like this, not when she’s so distraught and crying… fuck… that’s it, he’s done for, he thinks.

“No, I’m sorry… I-I…”You whimper.

“Bambi, talk to me. Tell me how I can make it better.”

“Wh-what…?” You look up at him blinking away tears, “You’re… you’re not mad at me? You don’t think I’m gross?”

“What?! Why on earth would I think that?”

You can’t hold back the weepy tirade, and he lets you blubber on, “W-well my… my last boyfriend he… he couldn’t handle the stuff I was into either… he called me a freak, said he never wanted to see me again… an-and I tried to take it slow, hold back with you.”

You take a big, shaky breath before continuing, “Didn’t wanna scare you o-off too… cause I really, really like you Eds… b-but you’ve barely even tried to touch me li-like that and we’ve been dating for weeks now… I was going crazy, I just had to do something.”

He holds up a hand huffing angrily, “Hold up. First of all, what do you mean ‘scare me off’, who said I can’t handle this? That was hot as fuck. And second of all, who the fuck was that creep, there has got to be something seriously wrong with him… if he-he…”

You cut him off squeezing his shoulder, “Eddie, it’s ok, it’s fine forget about him. Please, tell me why you stopped me. Why do you think we should have stopped sooner?”

“Come on Bambi, why do you think? Look at you always so cute and innocent. I shouldn’t corrupt you like that… I shouldn’t be dragging you down with me like this… turning you into some pervert.”

“Eddie, enough with the ‘cute and innocent’ stuff… and I can feel that, by the way. The way your dick twitched when you talked about ‘corrupting’ me…” You grind down on him and he whimpers hanging his head in shame.

“I’m sorry-”

“Don’t be, this is what I wanted, ok. Wait. Wait here a minute let me show you what I really mean.” You slide out of his grip trotting off into your walk-in wardrobe.

You emerge carrying what you had affectionately dubbed the treasure chest, a moderately sized wooden box that you’d covered in stickers. You’d been dying to do a little show and tell with him, just like you had with all your stuffies. Again, in the interest of not scaring him off you’d held off, but now seemed a good a time as any to really make your point.

“What’s that, sweetheart?”

“More toys.” You grin at him.

“I thought you showed me all your toys, told me all their names and everything.”

“Yeah, I did show you all those toys, but I didn’t tell you everything about them. Let’s start there, ok? So, you saw me riding Mr. Stripes. He’s one of the best for that, firm but soft and fuzzy. Perfectly shaped cushion to sit on, something to grab on to, it’s like he was made for it.”

“Fuck, yeah saw the way you were bucking against him.” You notice his hand twitching, making slight moves towards his fat dick resting between his thighs.

You nod towards his crotch, “You can keep touching yourself if you want.”

“God, sweetheart I don’t know if I can take much more of this. My poor little heart might just give out. How did you keep all of this hidden away for so long?”

“Told ya didn’t wanna scare you off, I care about you too much Eds. Anyway, Mr. Stripes was my favourite stuffie for a long time, but then you gave me my little Eddie Bear.”

He gasps, hand drifting towards his cock gripping it lazily, “Yeah, uhh huh. I remember Eddie Bear.”

He recalls the day he’d gifted that to you, he’d cut a small hole into the bear and fucked it ‘til he came deep inside. Stitching it up carefully afterwards so you’d never notice.

“And when you did, he smelled just like… you. And then I rode him so much, over and over, just thinking of you. So many times, ‘til he didn’t smell like you anymore. I was a bit sad about that, though.” You lament.

He groans, a rumbling sound deep from his chest, as he continues stroking his throbbing cock, thumbing at the tip, “Yeah, what else? Tell me more, Bambi.”

“Well, sometimes I like to make all the other stuffies watch while I ride one of them, but the really fun toys are in here…” You hold up the chest.

“What’s in there sweetheart, you gonna show me like you did with all your other toys?”

You nod eagerly, placing the box on the bed and take a seat in front of it cross-legged, he chuckles at you, “Um these ones don’t really have names… except one. That one is my absolute favourite! Do you want me to show you that one first?”

“If that’s what you want, sweetheart.” His hand drops to fondle his balls for a moment as you continue.

You swing back the lid of the box on its hinges, holding so it blocks his view of everything inside, “Ok, so I call this my little treasure chest…”

“That’s cute, Bambi, I like that.” He remarks as you shuffle around the box in search of a particular item.

“Ok get ready, this one is called Mr. Flopsy…”

He grins at you, but that falters and his hand moves to squeeze the base of his cock firmly, eyes widening as you pull out a six-inch, translucent pink, sparkly rabbit vibrator, it’s almost the same circumference around as it is long. It’s not the most intimidating one in your collection but it is one of your favourites.

He inhales sharply before groaning out, “God fucking damn! That is not what I was expecting when you said ‘toys’. Jesus H Christ Bambi if you asked me yesterday, I wouldn’t have even thought you knew what one of those was!”

“Well, I do mister, so now do you believe I’m not just little Miss Innocent?”

He nods and hums in a strained way, “Uh huh, yep mm hmm.”

“So, see Mr. Flopsy is my favourite cause he’s all pink and sparkly and look a little bunny… that’s why I call him Mr. Flopsy.” You flick the ears on the toy and Eddie groans in response, just the thought of where those little ears have been drives him wild.

“He might not be the biggest in the collection, but he makes up for it in every other way.”

He resumes stroking along his length, whining, “Please can I see you use Mr. Flopsy?”

“Yeah, you really wanna?” You smile up at him sweetly, eyes lighting up.

“Fuck, absolutely sweetheart. You gonna do it for me?”

“Yes, but not now, there’s still a whole lot more to show you first.”

“Can’t we do that some other time?”

“Nope.” You reply cheekily.

“Ugh, do we have to go one by one though? Can’t you just dump it all out?” He groans frustratedly.

“Ok, I guess… for you, but you’ll have to help me pack up later.” You concede, tipping over the chest and letting everything tumble out.

Piles of rope and collars and nipple clamps and chains and dildos and fuzzy handcuffs, and more, in all shades of pastel colours cascade over the bed. He drops his slick, leaky cock, wiping his hand off along the duvet before rummaging through the pile in front of him. His cock bobs up and down in his lap desperate for attention.

“Oh, this is so much better than anything I could have ever imagined. Who knew you were such a kinky, little…” He pauses abruptly, you can tell he’s holding back.

“Go on Eds, call me dirty names, tell me I’m a kinky, little slut… is that what you were going to say? ‘Cause I’ll be your little slut, all yours, just for you. I’ll be your little present all wrapped up in bows, let you tie me up, split me open on your cock…”

He cuts you off pulling you in by the back of your neck, his lips colliding with your own over the paraphernalia laying beneath you. You break apart breathlessly, whining “Need you Eds, please…”

He rushes to strip off his clothing, tossing his jeans clear across the room in his haste. He glances down into the items scattered before him, in search of something…

“You gonna tie me up?” You ask hopefully.

“Sorry, Bambi not this time…” he spots what he was looking for, “…but I will be using these… if that’s ok?” He holds up a pink, fluffy pair of handcuffs, dangling them off a finger.

“Oh, that is more than ok Eddie.”

“I’m going to guess you’re familiar with the traffic light system, right?”

You nod proudly, “Uh huh, sure am.”

“Good, we’ll use that for now, ok?”

“Ok, Eddie, all green from me.” You offer him your wrists without him even asking.

“Oh, what a good girl you are, but first I’m going to need you to make some room on the bed. Just scoop all of that back into its box and set it on the floor, we can deal with it later…”

You nod mutely and do as you’re told while he continues, “… and you can tell me all about every little thing in there while we do. Your stuffies can stay and watch the show though.” He smirks at you.

Once the bed is clear, you kneel in the centre, resting back on your heels, all your stuffies and flowery, fluffy pillows propped up behind you. You look up at him through your long lashes waiting with baited breath for his next move. He cups your cheek, caressing it with a thumb, “You wanna be my good girl, my good little slut?”

“Y-yes please. Can I… can I call you ‘sir’?”

“Oh, Bambi so precious, so cute… yes, you may call me ‘sir’.”

“Thank you, sir.”

“Anything for you princess. Now, how would you like to be cuffed… hands behind your back or to your bed frame?”

“To the bed, please.” You scoot back closer to the head of the bed, bringing your knees to your chest and squishing up against the toys and pillows.

“Such good manners. Did your mummy and daddy teach you that? Are they home now?” Coming up beside you he guides your hands one at a time, first closing a fluffy cuff around one wrist, then looping it through the bed frame and cuffing the other hand.

You shake your head, sinking down into the mattress your legs falling open, “Nuh uh, they’ve gone out. Won’t be home for hours.”

He moves to rest between your spread legs, humming in your ear, a finger brushing stray wisps of hair away from your face. “Hmmm, that’s strange why did you tell me to come in through the backyard then? Why’d you ask me not to use the door?”

“‘Cause… ‘cause I wanted you to catch me, thought maybe if you did…” You trail off distracted by his breath heating the side of your face.

Drawing back slightly he questions, “What did you think sweetheart? Did you think I wouldn’t be able to control myself? That I’d just take you right there as soon as I saw you?”

“Maybe… something a little like that.” You admit shyly.

“Well, aren’t you lucky then, that worked out quite nicely for you, didn’t it? I think it was very naughty though, don’t you?” He teases with a mischievous glint in his eye.

“Sir?”

“I think someone needs to be… punished.” He proceeds cautiously.

“No, sir please I’ll be good. I’m your good girl remember.”

He gives you a slightly concerned look, “Colour?”

You grin back at him, “Green, sir.”

He runs a hand over your thigh, you shiver in response squeezing your legs together around him, “Ok, I have an idea… maybe more of a fun punishment. How’s that?”

“O-ok.” You agree shakily.

He continues “Well, since you decided to tease me with Mr. Flopsy, how about I use him on you… but you’re not allowed to cum.”

You pout, “Aww, that’s not fair.”

“Ah, ah, thought you said you were going to be my good girl?” He tuts at you, “The next time you cum I want that tight little pussy wrapped around my cock. Want you to get it all wet and sloppy for me.”

“I-I can do that for you.” You assure him breathily.

“I know, just wait right there for me while I find Mr. Flopsy.” He leans over the edge of the bed and riffles through the ‘treasure chest’.

You giggle, jiggling the cuffs around your wrist, “I can’t go anywhere Eds.”

“Ha got it!” He pulls out the toy holding it up proudly, before fiddling with the buttons on its base.

You’re practically shivering with anticipation as he cycles through the settings getting familiar with it. When he finds the button that makes the shaft thrust back and forth, with a gasp his head snaps to you, “I didn’t know it did that!”

You smirk at him, “Yeah, it’s good, isn’t it?”

“Why, don’t we see just how good it is, sweetheart?” He turns off the vibrations and the thrusting tip before making his way back to you. He trails the toy over your body slowly, lingering when he brings it up between your breasts alongside his guitar pick.

He looks up into your eyes, his pupils blown wide with lust, “Why don’t you start by getting Mr. Flopsy all nice and wet for me with your mouth?”

You nod in agreement and he holds the toy against your lips, they part. You lick up and down the shaft, letting your drool dribble all over it before wrapping your lips around the tip giving it a suck.

He groans in response as you try to take more of the shaft into your mouth. He pulls the toy away, “I think that’s enough now, are you still trying to tease me? Still being a naughty girl?”

You shake your head, “No just… just like having something to suck on. It feels good for me too… really like sucking on dick… ‘s like a little treat, like a lollipop, but better.”

“Fuuuuck, baby we are going to have to explore that a whole lot more soon-”

You interrupt him eagerly adding, “Balls! I like balls too! Wanna worship every inch of you Eds.”

A strangled groan escapes his lips, he grits his teeth, “God you really are gonna give me a heart attack ya know.”

“How’re… how’re you doing Eds?” You ask, checking in with him too.

“Oh, I’m green. I’m so fucking green I’m an emerald, ‘bout as hard as one too.”

You giggle at the comparison, “Well, come on let’s get to my… funishment then.”

“Oh, little princess thinks she can give orders now. Well, you’ll soon learn to be careful what you ask for, sweetheart.”

He takes the slobbery toy and runs it through your folds, prodding at your clit a few times before turning it on. The vibrations start out gentle as he continues his motions, slowly he begins easing the toy into your slick entrance. You gasp at the intrusion, sighing as he eases it in further and further. The little rabbit ears press into your clit and he starts the vibrations on those to.

“Oh, Eddie feels so good.” You whine.

“Remember no cumming on your toy this time.” He warns.

“I promise Eds, I’ll be good.”

He groans along with you and increases the intensity of the vibrations, “Let me know when you’re close ok?”

“Yes, sir,”

He gives an experimental thrust with the toy gauging your reaction, your wrists pull on their restraints and you moan. He ups the intensity yet again before remembering the thrusting feature, he pushes the toy all the way in and you feel your wetness flood around it.

He starts the thrusting action of the toy then waves his hands around grinning, “Look Bambi, no hands.”

Your giggle turns into a broken moan as he increases the speed of the thrusting toy inside you. His hands moving to cup your breasts, kneading them and rolling your nipples between his fingers.

Your hips begin to raise off the mattress, attempting to match the movements of the toy buzzing away inside you. You gasp, “Please, sir… please, please, please. I’m so close…”

And then all at once all sensation is gone, ripped away from you right at the precipice as he removes the toy. You whine at the loss, hips still bucking away in search of more.

“Oh, I know, I know…” He coos down at you, pressing your hips back down into the mattress.

“Fuck… Eddie, please I need you. Please fuck me.”

“If only I knew what a little slut you really were, we could’ve been doing this ages ago, you know that right?” He switches off the toy and licks it clean of your juices before dropping it down on the bed beside you.

You whimper beneath him, “Yes, sir I know. ‘m sorry I made you wait. Please I need you now, we can make up for all the lost time.”

“Oh, my pretty little princess, we will be making up for it…” he growls before guiding his slick cock into your wet heat. He slams in all at once. The toy is nothing compared to him and his impressive length, but the preparation and all your arousal is enough to have him sliding in with ease.

He rests there for a moment gazing down at you, before checking in breathlessly, “You… hmmm… you good down there?”

You look up at him nodding, “… mhmmmm… perfect Eds, green.”

That’s all the confirmation he needs before he’s pulling his hips back and slamming into you once more. “Don’t… don’t know if I’ll be able to last long… ya got no idea how long I’ve been waiting for this.” He manages to pant out. Head hanging forward his hair flopping into his face as he braces himself with his hands on the bed frame by your own.

“I-I think I have some idea… hey, Eds?”

“Yeah, sweetheart? You still good?”

“Yep, just… hngh… just… can you cum inside me, please?”

His hips stutter and he groans, “God fucking damn, you really are trying to kill me, aren’t you?”

You look up at him desperate and needy, “Please, sir. Please, wan’ it nice and deep.”

“Fuuuuck… shit yeah, yeah gonna cum soon. Gonna give it all to you.”

You strain at the cuffs in a pathetic attempt to grab a hold of something… tug on his long hair that dangles in his face, crumple the sheets, squeeze your stuffies, a pillow… anything. Instead, you wrap your legs around him, drawing him in deeper mewling desperately with each thrust.

“Are you close?” He pants above you.

“So close Eds, so close… you gonna cum with me when I soak that perfect cock of yours?”

He lets out the most hopeless, pathetic whine, “God… fuck… yes, yes, yes…”

He grabs the discarded vibrator turning it on and pressing it into your clit sending you into orbit, you pulse around him rhythmically, gushing all over his length with a scream and call out his name.

It doesn’t take long for him either, the feeling of you clamping down around him, the added vibrations from the toy. He unloads into you with a cry of his own. The feel of his warm, thick cum painting your walls only prolongs the sensation for you. When he slides his dick out, your combined fluids dribble out, running between your cheeks and pooling on the bed beneath you.

He’s still holding the toy against you as you tremble with aftershocks, “S-stop, ‘m sensitive Eds, please.” You gasp out.

“Oh, right. Sorry.” He grins sheepishly, removing the toy, turning it off and tossing it aside.

He hooks a finger into the chain linking your cuffs, “Keys?”

“Bedside table. Top drawer. They’re pink.”

“Of course they are.” He chuckles and leans over to retrieve the keys.

He undoes the restraints and rubs at your wrists soothingly before scooping you up into his arms and manoeuvring you to lay against his chest.

His fingers trail along the chain draped over your neck, settling on the guitar pick, toying with it, “So, you kept this on, huh?”

“Yeah, uh it’s… it’s kinda like a collar in a way, but… more. More personal. More special. Been wearing it more than my actual collars now. More than any pretty little ribbon too.”

He gives it a gentle tug and you whine in response.

“You like wearing it, like it’s your own little special collar showing everyone who you belong to?”

“Yes Eds, God yes.” You breath out, pausing for a beat before asking hopefully, “What about you, do you still have the ribbon I gave you?”

“I could never part with my lady’s favour.” He declares, spinning the bracelet around his wrist to show the chain side where he’d woven the ribbon through the links.

You reach down running your fingertips over it, overwhelmed by your emotions, it has you blurting out, “I love you, Eddie.”

He sighs, “I love you too.”

“Do you think after we clean up, we can go for milkshakes?”

“Absolutely, sweetheart... with whipped cream and extra cherries too.”

You squeal in delight, “Thank you, Eddie! Best boyfriend ever!”

He pulls you in for a lingering kiss, before pulling away whispering, “Alright, then better get up if we’re gonna get to the diner.”

#eddie munson fic #eddie munson smut #eddie x reader #perv!eddie #perv!eddie x reader #perv!eddie x innocent!reader #eddie x innocent!reader #perv!eddie munson #eddie x girly!reader #perv!eddie x girly!reader #eddie munson x reader #eddie munson x y/n #eddie x y/n #eddie x bambi

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pearlessance · 2 months

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Feelin' Empty? - Idle Threats [iv]

Series Summary — Joel has watch duty with Jackson’s twenty-year old, smart-mouthed brat and gets more than he bargained for.

Chapter Summary — Joel reminds you to heed his warnings.

Pairing — Joel Miller/Reader

Warnings — Explicit sexual content MDNI, brat taming, age gap (32yrs), mean!Joel, religious imagery and symbolism, catholic guilt, jealousy, light angst, spanking, edging

SERIES MASTERLIST

[cross posted to AO3]

Joel waits several minutes before leaving the bathroom. He cleans himself up, tries to collect his thoughts, tries to swallow down the bitter taste you left behind.

And when he emerges back into the front of the bar, it isn’t Kelly’s smiling face that grabs his attention. It’s you, of course it’s fucking you, because you’ve picked up your things from the bar and moved instead to a booth.

You’re not alone, either. Abel sits at your side, grinning down at you with a mischievous glint in his eye.

Joel doesn’t know Abel well. He knows he works in the armory, that he keeps stock of all the weapons and ammunition that pass through Jackson. He doesn’t know about the knife wedged in Joel’s boot right now, though.

He pushes the thought from his mind. His jaw clenches, and he takes in a slow breath, and then he’s forcing himself to return to the bar. Tara’s refilled his glass, and Joel has never been more thankful.

“I was starting to worry,” Kelly says as Joel sits on the barstool at her side. “You feeling okay?”

Other than the fact that he just had a religious experience with a girl half his age only to find her nearly sitting in the lap of another man moments later? Yeah. Fine. “Peachy,” he answers, taking a long sip of his whiskey.

Abel’s older than you by several years. Younger than Joel, but far from age-appropriate. He’s gotta be in his mid forties, but Joel can’t deny that he’s handsome. Tall and built and rugged, with a thick black beard he keeps trimmed up like some sort of pretty boy. Beneath the cream colored cowboy hat he wears, Joel can see matching dark curls poking out of the sides. And he’s got those bright blue eyes, too, which are currently swallowing you up with no remorse.

Joel grinds his teeth. Takes another sip of whiskey. He hears Kelly say something. A question, maybe, but he doesn’t hear it. “What was that?”

“I was just asking if you two have history.”

It takes him a little off guard. Is he so obvious? He must be, though. Because Kelly’s sunshiny smile falls as she looks over at you, and Joel begins to feel a little bad for her. Because this date is going nowhere, and he thinks she knows it, but she’s still trying. “Not really,” he answers. “We were on patrol together a couple of times.”

She nods slowly, mulling his answer over like there’s a secret hidden between his words. Joel supposes there is. “Did something happen?”

Christ. Was she this nosy with everyone in Jackson, or just with Joel? He doesn’t want to answer. So he doesn’t. Finishes off his whiskey and nods to Tara for another.

This is too much. And Joel suddenly realizes the solution to all of his problems right now; Kelly, Abel, you—is just to simply get the fuck out of here.

But he can’t leave you alone like this. It’s not safe. He knows exactly what sort of thoughts are running through Abel’s mind right now, knows exactly what he’s thinking when he licks his lips and smirks down at you. Joel can hear him faintly, saying, “You’ve got such a pretty smile, darlin’.”

“I’ll take that as a yes,” Kelly suddenly says. She laughs but there’s no joy in it, no amusement at all. She rises to her feet with a heavy sigh. “I’m gonna go, Joel.”

It’s only with her words he remembers why he came here, remembers that he was supposed to try on this date with Kelly to distract himself from you and has, catastrophically, failed. He thinks about asking her to sit back down, but then realizes he can pay closer attention to you without her chattering in his ear, so Joel apologizes instead. “Kelly, look, I’m…I’m sorry. I don’t think I’m…cut out for this kinda thing.”

She nods slowly, looks over to you one last time. “I get it,” she says, reminding him of your conversation in the bathroom.

I get it, but I don’t understand. It hurts just as bad in his memory. Cuts just as deep.

When he looks up at her, a storm cloud has replaced all that carefree sunshine on her face and rainwater lines her lashes. His eyes soften, and Joel wishes he would’ve ended this the moment he stepped through the door to save everyone a little bit of pain. “Kelly…”

She shakes her head, clearing any remaining sadness away. “Really, Joel, it’s fine. I’m not blind, alright? You can’t hide something like that.”

His brows furrow. “Like what?”

Kelly gathers her jacket with one hand and waves the other between you and him. “That,” she says as if it’s obvious, like the magnetic energy pulling him to you is some physical, tangible thing. “Whatever it is, it’s not exactly subtle. And, Joel, that girl’s trouble but she doesn’t deserve any more hurt. Neither of you do. So, whatever it is, just make sure it’s real.” She turns to leave, but at the door she turns her head back to him, watery eyes making their grand return. And then she says, “Nothing’s promised anymore. Take the good where you can get it.”

Joel tosses his whiskey back in one gulp. He presses his fingers into his temple, trying to alleviate the ache, grateful for the soft hum the alcohol has created in his bones. He hears the ring of your sweet laughter and his eyes follow the sound.

He watches through hooded eyes as Abel pulls you to the other end of the bar where there’s a small, open space near the jukebox. He takes your hand in his, the very hand that you licked clean moments ago, and raises it above your head. Abel’s spinning you in a circle, and there’s a carefree smile on your face, and it makes Joel feel hollow. Like the part inside of him that you’ve carved out for yourself has been vacated, demolished. It makes him feel empty.

You look happy. And that’s the part that kills him.

Joel wants that for you. Wants you to be happy and safe and satisfied and loved. And it can’t be him that gives those things to you, can it? It would put a target on your back for cruelty, and Joel has to protect you from that. You say you don’t care what the people of Jackson have to say about you, but he does. Joel knows himself. Knows that if he ever overheard someone talking bad about you and it was his fault? There would be more than just an argument with his little brother as punishment.

There would be blood, and loss, and death. And Joel doesn’t want that. He only wants you—sweet and soft and innocent and bratty and perfect. He doesn’t want to taint you with bloodstained hands, doesn’t want to tarnish you any further than he already has.

But then you glance over at him from around Abel’s shoulder as he sways you to the soft blues song that plays. He’s got one hand wrapped in yours and the other on your back, a respectful distance above your ass. Far more respectful than Joel has ever been to you.

And there’s that look in your eyes again, the one that makes him feel warm, comforted, safe. It grows and grows the longer you stare at him until it’s engulfed every cell in his body, thawing him from the inside out. And when you look away as Abel whispers something in your ear, that warmth in his chest remains. Muted, but ever-present.

Joel is a selfish man. He’s come to terms with it. He knows from experience that if it ever came between choosing the few and choosing the many, he’d let the world burn if it meant keeping his people safe. The ones he loves, the ones he’s chosen. He’s not ignorant to the fact that you have, inescapably, found your way into that category of people he’d sacrifice the world for.

But he doesn’t want to be selfish with you. He doesn’t want to, even though he already has been. Because the selfish thing he’s doing now will hurt you later on, just as Tommy said. No matter what, even if things go perfectly to plan, someone will suffer for what the two of you have done. And Joel really, really doesn’t want it to be you.

If there was a way to guarantee that he would be the only one left bleeding at the end of this calamity, Joel would be snatching you out of Abel’s hands and taking you home before the song was over. He’d damn himself without a second thought, without a single regret because Kelly is right; nothing is promised anymore. And Joel wants to hold onto that warmth for as long as he can, wants to hold onto you for as long as he can.

Even if it’s selfish. Even if it’s sinful. Even if it hurts.

But he doesn’t want to make a scene, doesn’t want to embarrass you. Which leaves him stuck, sitting at the bar, sipping whiskey to fill the void you left behind, watching Abel play all his tricks to attempt to woo you. Joel even watches some of them work.

Abel’s funny. Or at least, you find him so. Joel knows because every couple of minutes you’re giggling or snorting or grinning with a shake of your head. He queues up music on the jukebox and the two of you dance to Have You Ever Needed Someone So Bad by Def Leppard and Joel thinks about chewing on glass.

You’re glancing over to the bar every few minutes, but Abel is completely unaware of Joel’s hard stare. He understands, though, how easy it is to succumb to your witchery. How being in your presence makes everything else—people, problems, morals—fade into the background. Joel wonders if he gets that same lovesick look on his face that Abel currently wears.

It’s painful to watch. Every second of it makes Joel feel like he’s splintering apart. But he forces himself to stay put—to keep a close eye on you. To keep you safe. Because he can see the thoughts as they flit through Abel’s head, can see him appreciating the curve of your neck, the softness of your lips, the arch of your nose. Joel can relate because he’s been there—enthralled, captivated, hypnotized. And he knows Abel will do anything to take you home with him, to make you his. But that’s not going to happen because Joel will never allow it.

So he watches the two of you dance until the sun sets below the horizon. He watches Abel push your hair behind your ear, watches your cheeks turn crimson when he compliments you, watches him pluck his cowboy hat from his head and place it onto yours. And it makes him sick—makes his knuckles go white, makes him grind his teeth, makes him sweat.

But Joel has never, ever, been as angry as he is when you lay your head against Abel’s chest and he presses a kiss into your hair. Because holding your hand and touching your spine over your jean jacket with the other is one thing—but kissing you? No.

Fuck. No.

It sends him into a blind rage. Joel realizes it’s been simmering since the moment he left the bathroom, that watching the two of you become real cozy in front of the jukebox only served to stoke the flames of fury beneath his skin.

He’s going to kill him.

Joel grabs a half empty beer bottle by the neck and smashes it against the bar top.

The commotion grabs all the attention in the room, including yours, but Joel doesn’t notice. He only sees Abel and his hands on you and his lips against your head and the smiles he’s stealing from you, smiles that should belong to Joel.

His ears are ringing. Fuck the people of Jackson and the bullshit they’ll have to say. Fuck watching you when he should be holding you. Fuck your age difference and the notion that it’s wrong and fuck the wrath of God. But more than anything, fuck Abel.

He doesn’t take more than two steps before someone pushes him back. A solid force standing between Joel and his vengeance. He shoves and shoves but it doesn’t move, and he thinks about raising the glass bottle in his hand to whatever stands in his fucking way—until Tommy’s voice cuts through the red fog in his mind.

“Joel,” he says. “ Joel. Joel, take a walk. Talk a fucking walk. Right now.”

His brother stands in front of him, one hand wrapped around Joel’s wrist, the other shoving his chest, pushing Joel backward.

On the other side of Tommy, Abel stands with his shoulders squared and his fists clenched at his sides. He’s pulled you behind him protectively, completely oblivious that Joel is no threat when it comes to you.

In fact, Joel realizes that maybe you’re the true threat in the room. Making him feel these things, tempting him toward sin. The true forbidden fruit, the snake in the grass. And it’s only now Joel realizes it’s far too late for him.

Tommy pushes him out of the bar. The winter air stings Joel’s face, his hands—ice cold compared to the boiling temperatures within. “Go home, Joel,” his brother says, leaving no room for argument. “Don’t be stupid.” There’s something in his eyes. A warning, maybe. Joel listens, leaving you alone in the bar with Abel and Tommy and Tara and whoever the fuck else.

Because Joel is lucid enough to know Abel won’t hurt you. He’s also lucid enough to know that if he did, there would be nothing strong enough to keep Joel from ripping him apart.

So, he appeases his brother.

He walks the streets of Jackson but he doesn’t go home. He can’t go home, not now. He’d only lie in his bed and convince himself to come find you. And Joel’s tired, so fucking tired of beating himself up for this.

It’s too late. Too fucking late. He’s already sunk his teeth in deep, already cracked the bones and sucked out the marrow, already given into his lust, his gluttony, already listened to the hissing from your forked tongue and let himself believe it. The poison will set in later down the line, he knows. But later isn’t now and forbidden or not, Joel Miller is starving and you’re fucking delicious.

There’s a big willow tree on the side of the street opposite your house. Joel stands beneath the weeping branches, comparing the sway of the limbs to his grip on his sanity. He leans against the wide trunk and waits.

And waits.

He sees you less than twenty minutes later. You’ve got your jacket pulled tight across your chest and your steps are hurried as you skip up the stairs and try to fight off the midnight chill. The moonlight reflects in your hair, and Joel thinks you look like some sort of angel. His desire for you is incessant; a gnawing against his psyche, a want that’s both unholy and divine.

Joel watches you fumble with the key, wondering if you intentionally forgot to lock your front door that night. It wouldn’t surprise him anymore—you bratty, venomous little thing.

He waits until you disappear inside before he pushes away from the tree and crosses the street. Joel’s careful as he steps up the creaky stairs. And, much to his relief and satisfaction, the door has been, once again, left unlocked.

It’s dark on the other side, nothing to illuminate the space but the soft glow of the lamp in your bedroom. He follows it like a moth to a flame, but Joel stops when he notices his coat hanging over the back of the couch.

He only just now remembers he left it at the bar in his haze of fury, and can’t tell if it makes him feel tender or irritated, seeing the dark brown canvas hanging there so casually, looking far from out of place. On the one hand, he loves that you thought of him, loves that you saw it, and felt entitled to claim it as yours for the time being. Even though you danced with another man all night, even though he knows Abel likely begged to walk you home, it was a piece of Joel that you decided to take. And the realization brings him a deep satisfaction, knowing you chose him.

But bringing it home means you assumed Joel would show up here at some point. And he can’t help but feel a little played. Like this has been your plan all along; to provoke him to anger, to incite a reaction from him. And the worst part is that it worked—Joel did just what was expected. But he doesn’t regret it for a single second, still feels the residual wrath in the palms of his hands and he wants so badly to give you a spoonful of your own medicine.

You want to be bratty, to taunt him? Fine. But you need to understand that your actions are not without consequence.

When he pushes open your bedroom door, Joel ignores the gasp of surprise you let out. Your hand goes to your chest in an attempt to slow your racing heart, and his hand finds a home around your neck. He pushes you against the wall, and expects you to fight back or shove him or shout out curses or something— but all you do is rest your hand against his wrist. His touch is bruising but yours is affectionate and, just like that, Joel’s lost all control yet again.

His knees go weak at the sultry look in your eyes, at the smirk playing at your pretty mouth, at the deviance you exude. “Tommy told me to stay away from you,” you say.

Joel realizes his brother is now playing both sides, trying to drive from the back seat. But Joel’s already driven over the cliff, now in a complete free fall. It’s too late. Too late. And he thinks it might’ve been from the moment he first saw you. “S’that right?”

“Said I’ll be the reason you get kicked out of Jackson if I’m not careful,” you continue. “You should go, Joel. It’s not smart for you to be here. Go back to Kelly.”

“I’m not goin’ anywhere,” he says. And he means it—there’s no getting rid of him now. Not anymore.

“Maria won’t let you stay. Not if you kill someone.” He’s not talking about Jackson or Maria, and he thinks you know it, but he can see your hesitance beneath all that sinful seduction and decides the conversation can wait until tomorrow.

“You did that shit on purpose.” It’s a statement, and the wicked gleam in your eyes all but confirms his suspicions.

“Yeah. And what’re you gonna do about it, huh?” Your tongue darts out to wet your lips, and a breathy sigh escapes him at the sight.

“I oughta spank you till your ass is red,” Joel says, noting the way your pupils dilate at the threat. And it is a threat—one he swears to make good on. “Always being so disrespectful.”

“Abel’s nice, Joel. Says he’s good at making girls come, that he’s been practicing longer than I’ve been alive. Said he’ll make me feel good, that he’ll be real gentle with me. And you and I both know just how much I like older men. ”

The image you create has Joel’s fingers tightening around your throat. “Gentle?” It’s laughable. “That what you want, little girl? Want me to be gentle with you?” He tilts your face up with his thumb beneath your chin, presses his body against yours. Your hand goes to his belt buckle as it digs into your belly, and your legs fall apart on instinct as he wedges his knee between them.

You seat yourself right over his denim-clad thigh, hips rolling already, desperate for friction, for relief.

He chuckles darkly and says, “Yeah…didn’t think so.” Joel presses into you harder, because he knows just how bad it hurts. Knows just how that longing feels, knows how bad it aches. He grabs a fistful of your dress and hikes it up over your hips. He wants to see the mess you make, and he’s rewarded with the embarrassed whimper you let out in response. “Filthy little thing,” he says. “Don’t want it gentle at all, huh?”

At the sight of you grinding against his thigh, Joel forgets what he came here to do. Forgets he’s supposed to be giving you a taste of your own medicine, supposed to be showing you just how difficult it was to watch you flirt with another man. Because he thinks you look so pretty like this, he doesn’t have the strength to stop you. Joel wants to watch you fall apart just as much as you need to, wants to touch you till you shake, wants to lick your clean afterward, wants to make you feel so good no other man will ever compare.

But you’re not quite there yet, he knows. He can feel you’re not quite relaxed, not quite as pliable as he wants you to be. But he knows how much you like hearing his disgusting words, and so he lays it on thick. “Dirty fuckin’ girl. Lettin’ me fuck you with my fingers in public and that still ain’t enough for you, hm? You want more, always wantin’ more. Beggin’ me all the time.”

He’s surprised when it doesn’t work as well as he hopes. You’re moaning in his ear—breathy, needy little sounds that make his hard cock seek you out behind his zipper—your hips move restlessly, creating more and more friction, and there’s a telling dark spot beginning to form on his jeans. But something is off.

Joel can’t quite put his finger on it, but there’s something. And he begins to spiral, heart racing behind his ribcage. Because what if you’re finally coming to your senses, finally realizing he has nothing to offer you? What if the whole thing was just some fantasy to you? Maybe you’ve gotten your fill of him, gotten your rocks off enough times to be satisfied. What if he’s here, willing to sacrifice everything just to be close to you, while you’re slowly growing tired of him?

But then he tears his eyes away from his knee and sees the downright evil look in your eye as you let out a dramatic moan and say, “Oh, Abel!”

And he’s had it. Absolutely fucking had it.

Joel steps back, fists his hand in your hair, and pulls you towards the bed. You’re giggling and he’s seething as he sits on the edge of the mattress and takes you over his knee. “Fuckin’ brat,” he says. “Tired of your attitude. Think you know everything. Think everything’s a goddamn joke.”

You spread your arms straight out above you, fingertips disappearing beneath the pillows. And you're sitting on your knees, ass arched beautifully, and Joel’s mouth waters when he pulls your dress up to expose a pair of royal blue panties, ones he hadn’t been able to properly appreciate in the dimly lit bathroom. “What are you gonna do, Joel? You’re gonna spank me? Really?” You scoff in disbelief. “All bark and no bite. Why don’t you— Joel!”

The sound of his harsh slap reverberates through his head, sharp and delicious. He feels his muscles relax almost instantly—almost as if he needs this more than you. “I told you, baby,” he says with a slight tilt of his head. “I don’t make idle threats.”

“Joel! You can’t—you—! What the fuck?”

He smacks your ass again, harder this time. Your whole body tenses and a soft little whimper leaves you, one that sends shivers down his spine. “Watch your fuckin’ mouth,” he warns.

There’s already a hand-shaped mark blossoming across your smooth skin, and Joel rubs the tender flesh to soothe. Your hands are fisted in the sheets, shoulders shaking with each desperate inhale. “Joel,” you cry.

“Wasn’t it just five seconds ago you were moanin’ some other man’s name?” He brings his hand down against your ass again, a stinging slap that has you shoving your face into the pillow. “C’mon, now,” he says. “Where’s he at, baby? Thought he was gonna make you feel good.”

“I’m sorry,” you say, words muffled through both the sheets and your giggles. “I was just kidding!”

“Nah. I don’t think you were.” When he strikes again, it’s lighter this time, on the opposite cheek. Your skin is reddening beautifully, and Joel licks his lips as he watches the damp spot in your panties become more and more prominent as the seconds tick by. “How’s that feel? Hurts, doesn’t it?”

“Yes! God, Joel—I said I was sorry!” You sprawl out further in front of him, spine bending, thighs clamped tightly together. He knows you're enjoying this, can see it in your face, but Joel doesn’t think you’re quite getting it and he needs you to understand.

He brings his hand down again, so hard this time his palm tingles. Your legs cross at the ankles and your muscles go rigid. He holds you in his lap with one hand and uses the other to stroke your hair out of your face. “Imagine how I feel, baby. Imagine how much it hurts to see him makin’ you laugh, makin’ you go all red. How much it hurts to see him kiss you.”

“Then you should’ve taken me away from him,” you say quietly. And it forces Joel to pause—to see through his frustration for just a moment. Because you’re right. He should have. He wanted to.

“You know I can’t do that, sweet girl,” he says, thumb stroking gently over your reddened flesh. “Can’t let you get away with bein’ bratty, either. Think five is enough?”

Joel laughs when you press your face into the mattress and let out a dramatic groan.

“Gonna make you count with me, baby,” he says. “Can you do that for me?”

When you lift your head and look up at him, Joel gets that zealous feeling again, twisting up his insides—warm and intense and heavenly. It makes him want to lean over and kiss your cheek, your forehead, makes him want to hold you so close the concept of disconnect becomes foreign. You nod slowly in answer, and he wonders if you can feel it, too.

He watches your face this time as he brings his hand down sharply against your ass. The cutest crease forms between your brows, and your knuckles turn white as you clutch the sheets. He caresses the supple flesh, squeezing softly as he waits.

You let out a long breath. “One,” you choke out, and Joel feels pride swell in his chest. Already you’re following his direction. All it took was a little discipline.

“Good girl,” he praises. “Bein’ so good for me, baby. Sittin’ so pretty.” Joel’s attention leaves your flushed face as you begin to squirm. And it’s only then he realizes just how much this is affecting you—the seam of your panties is soaked. The fabric has gone from blue to almost black, wet material clinging to every dip and curve of your pussy, leaving nothing to the imagination. And Joel moans at the sight—he can’t help it. “Oh, little girl…look at that,” he whispers, voice thick with admiration. “Now you’re finally gettin’ it.”

This time when his palm connects, it’s right in the center of your ass, lower than before—and Joel can almost see your clit pulsing. “Two,” you whimper, eyes squeezed tight to try and fight your oncoming tears. When you catch your breath, you begin pleading almost immediately. “Please, please, touch me. I need you.”

He clicks his tongue. “Shh, baby, I know,” he says. “I know it’s hard, wantin’ something so bad…having it so close…” He slides his middle finger over your panties, right through your slit. It’s featherlight and teasing and torturous. You tilt your hips back to meet his soft touch, but he only pulls away, leaving you trembling in his lap. “And then it gets taken away from you,” he continues. “Leavin’ you all needy and cold and hungry. ”

Joel strikes your ass with his tingling palm, grinning to himself in satisfaction at the art he’s made of your skin. “Joel,” you cry, shoulders shaking with every deep, ragged breath. “Joel, please.”

“See? Knew you’d forget his name. Happened so quick, darlin,’” he mocks. He snakes his hand beneath your dress, tracing the curve of your spine, stroking in reverence. “S’posed to be countin’ for me.”

Your voice is breathy and broken as you say, “Three, Joel I need it, oh my god.” This time the tears do come, sliding slowly down your flushed cheek. Joel reaches over and swipes it away. He runs his knuckles softly over your jaw, ignoring the rocking of your hips.

“Shh. S’alright, little girl. I’m here, nothin’ to cry about,” he coos. And then he takes your arm in his hand, pulling you up off the mattress. “C’mere, baby. I’ve got ya.” When you lean back on your heels, knees pressing against the side of his thigh, Joel kisses the tip of your nose with his lips stretched into an amused grin.

You reach for him, hands finding the coarse hair of his beard, pulling his face to yours, crushing your mouth to his. You taste like heaven, and Joel lets you take control for a single moment. Lets you bite his bottom lip, lets you lick into his mouth, lets you run your hands through his hair and tug the curls at the nape of his neck. But the moment you reach for his cock, Joel grips the back of your neck and pulls you quickly away. “ Please,” you whimper, and you sound so fucking pretty begging for him that his resolves wavers.

But then he remembers the way it sounded when you said Abel’s name and Joel’s jaw feathers. “Arms up, sweetheart. Still got two more to go.”

A whine leaves you in protest, but you do as he asks. Joel helps you take off your dress, tosses it to the floor in the pile where he left his faith, and runs his rough fingertips down your bare chest.

“You’re so pretty baby,” he says truthfully, thumbs ghosting across your nipples. “You know how pretty you are?”

No answer comes in the form of words, but you clue him in on just how desperate for him you are when he sees your head fall back at the light touch. Your lips part with a ragged breath that turns into a moan when he leans forward and takes one nipple into his mouth.

He swirls his tongue, flicking it over the hardened peak. He pinches the other gently between his thumb and forefinger, massaging the delicate flesh of your breasts. And when he pulls away, pushing you back down against the mattress, Joel can’t hold back the grunt that leaves him at the pressure your body creates over his cock. He’s so hard it hurts. And he knows the cure, longs for it, but he has to finish this. He has to make sure you remember what happens when you disrespect him, when you entertain another man.

Joel hooks his fingers in your panties and slowly pulls them down. A low, throaty groan leaves him as he sees the mess you’ve made. It’s pornographic and dirty and obscene and Joel has never, ever wanted something so bad in his life. “Fuck. This all for me, little girl?”

“Yes,” you say, breathless. “It’s yours, Joel, all for you.”

He pulls your panties further down your thighs, cock throbbing as he watches strands of your slick snap as they disconnect. Your pussy is glistening, and Joel wants to feel it, wants to taste it. But he resists, knowing it’ll be worth it in the end. “I know it is, baby,” he mutters.

This time when he brings his palm down against your ass, the sound is sharper, louder than before without the fabric between you. Now it’s just his hand and your flushed skin, and it isn’t until now that Joel realizes just how badly he needs to touch you.

Your hips lift up towards his hand, looking for relief that won’t come. “Four,” you sigh.

“Good girl,” he says. “One more, yeah?”

Through panting breaths you ask, “And then you’ll touch me. Right, Joel? Right?”

The words are so innocent and hopeless that he can’t hold back his dark laughter. You’re being so good for him right now, and Joel knows you don’t deserve any more punishment than this…but the opportunity to tease you is just too sweet to resist. And Joel has already established that, when it comes to you, he’s got no restraint. “What’s wrong? Hm?” He slides his middle and index finger through your pussy, chuckling at the blissful moan you give in response, down to your clit where he circles once, twice—and then back up, gathering your wetness on the pads of his fingers. He spreads you open and traces your entrance, careful not to push inside. “Feelin’ empty, little girl? S’that it?”

You’re nodding frantically, eyes transfixed as he lifts his fingers covered in your slick to his mouth and sucks them clean with a groan. “God, Joel, I can’t take it anymore,” you say.

But he knows better. If he can sit there and watch you dance with another man for hours, you can handle a little desperation. “Good. Now you know how I feel. One more baby,” he says. “Then I promise I’ll touch you, just like you said. Yeah?”

“Yes, yes, please. One more.”

He makes it the worst one yet. When he slaps your ass the sound reverberates through his ears, and Joel knows it hurts because his palm stings and he starts to feel a little bit guilty. Because the relief it brings him to have finished, to have made you suffer in the same way he has, is incredible. So much so that he wants to do it again—wants you to act out, to be bratty, just so you’ll end up over his knee with his handprints on you again. And that’s wrong, isn’t it? It has to be. It’s fucked up, wanting to punish a little girl for his own satisfaction.

But then your shoulders drop, and delight shines in your eyes, and Joel knows you enjoyed it as much as he did. So, even if it is fucked up and wrong and immoral, it’s something he shares with you and, somehow, it makes it all worth it. “Five,” you whisper. And you immediately go to sit up, to crawl into his lap, but Joel stops you.

“Stay still, baby. You just lay right there, I’m gonna take care of you, ‘kay? Just like I promised. Don’t gotta lift a finger, pretty girl.”

Joel shifts from underneath you. He stands up, admires the way you look sprawled out over the sheets with your pussy dripping and your ass marked in the exact shape of his hands. You’re so beautiful it pains him, so flawless it hurts. Joel has to remind himself to breathe as he unbuttons his flannel and tosses it aside.

By the time he’s unbuttoning his jeans, you’re getting desperate again—needy little thing. He watches you squirm, watches you press your thighs together and arch back towards him.

Once he’s got his jeans off, he climbs over you, takes his aching cock in his hand, and presses a kiss between your shoulder blades. “My perfect little girl,” Joel murmurs against your skin. He slides the head of his cock through your slit, coating himself in your slick, smirking as you whine for more. “This what you want? Yeah?”

“Yes, yes, God, give it to me, I need it, I’ll be so good,” you beg as he circles your clit.

And what is he supposed to do but give in to you? You’re always good when he’s got you alone like this. “I know you will be, baby. Say please.”

“Please, please, please — ohh.”

You feel like damnation as he eases inside. Your long moan sounds like a psalm, his fingertips on your ribs are like keys to the gates of heaven. It feels so fucking good to be inside of you that Joel feels like a thief. A brigand, a predator, a vulture. Because in the back of his head, he knows the truth, knows you can never really be his, knows that the age difference between the two of you means that you’re not meant for him. And he’s stealing, taking from whoever it is you should belong to…but he’s not sure he’ll ever be able to stop.

He moves slowly, pushing in deep until there’s no spot inside of you left untouched. And when he pulls out, his cock is wet with your slick, and Joel shivers at the sight. “Oh, God, Joel, it feels so good.”

“I know, baby,” he says. He leans back, straightening his spine so he can watch himself disappear inside of you. The dark hair between his hips has been made darker by your wetness, and the muscles in his thighs flex with each slow, meaningful thrust.

There’s something different tonight. Something even more holy than any other time he’s been this close to you. His heart aches behind his sternum and pressure builds in his throat. The feeling chokes him, runs through his veins as naturally as blood. And though it’s never felt quite like this, Joel knows this feeling. Knows, too, that it terrifies him.

But he doesn’t want to ruin the moment. Doesn’t want to take himself out of the sacred time he has with you. So, he leans into the feeling, letting it take over all those thoughts of sin and doubt, all those thoughts of guilt and shame. He pushes them away and loses himself in you instead, picking up his pace, fucking you hard. “Feels real good, hm? You know he’d never make you feel like this, sweetheart. Just me, ain’t that right?”

“Yes! Yes, mmhm, just you, just you.” He can feel you clench around his cock, squeezing your walls tighter with each cruel thrust. His name sounds so pretty in your mouth, Joel thinks.

Already he’s fighting release, fighting to hold himself back. “Fuck, baby. That’s right, just me.” He snakes his hand beneath you, fingers finding your sensitive clit a moment later. He swipes his hand back and forth quickly, delighting in the way you begin to shake. “Don’t want nothin’ fuckin’ gentle. Wanna be fucked just like this, hm? Fucked like the little slut I know you are. You fuckin’ love this cock, don’t you baby? Hm? Say it, sweetheart.”

“I love it, I love it, I love it, ” you say, and Joel’s heart pounds a little faster in his chest. “Don’t stop, don’t stop, God,” you cry out. And he knows you’re right there, can feel it in your trembling limbs. Joel grabs your ass with his free hand, raised skin hot to the touch, and spreads you open for a clearer view.

The sight of his cock stretching you open nearly does him in. But he resists, because he wants to come with you, wants you to drown him. “Give it to me,” he says, thrusting in deeper, stroking your clit faster. “Give it to me, baby. C’mon. There you go, thaaat’s it. Good girl, that’s a good fuckin’ girl. Shit, pretty little pussy’s soakin’ me. Gonna come inside, hm? How’s that sound, sweetheart? Want me to fill you up?”

There’s a moment of hesitation, but then you’re nodding and you look back at him with hazy eyes and say through your moans, “Yes, I wanna feel it. Please come inside me, Joel, please.”

He doesn’t last another second. His orgasm hits him so hard his vision blackens and he sees nothing but bursts of light, hears nothing but your sweet sounds, feels nothing but admiration and devotion and worship. For you, all for you.

Everything for you.

He fucks you through it, doesn’t stop until he’s completely spent, even though you've finished and come down and your knuckles are white around the sheets, too sensitive to care about anything else but the steady movement inside of you. He gives you every last drop, makes fucking sure of it. And when his muscles go slack, he presses his sweaty forehead to your spine and tries to catch his breath. He breathes you in deep, holding you in his lungs, in his heart.

And he doesn't want to move, but then you let out a sated little giggle and say, “Joel, you’re squishing me.”

He laughs quietly, presses a kiss to your shoulder, and slowly pulls out of you with a groan. He crawls to the other side of the bed, pulls the comforter back, and helps you crawl underneath it. And when he nestles in beside you, he’s a little startled when it’s a natural reaction to pull you close. He wraps his arms around your waist, hooks your thigh over his hip, leans into your hands as you thread your fingers through his hair and scratch lightly at his scalp.

It’s intimate and closer than he’s been to anyone in a very, very long time. But he doesn’t hate it. And he doesn’t hate it when you pepper kisses over his face, either. And he really doesn’t hate it when you arch your back, tits pressing against his chest, and smile like there’s nothing in the world that makes you happier than being here with him, just like this.

He knows you are, but he has to ask. “You okay? It wasn’t too much, was it?”

You shake your head. “No, not at all. I…” You stop, chewing on your bottom lip. “I, uhm…”

“What is it?”

You look away from him, suddenly very interested in the shadows you make on the ceiling by rubbing your cold feet over his legs. “In the morning, I’ll have to go talk to Robin,” you admit. “She…she makes this tea, something you can drink to prevent unwanted…uhm,”

Joel thinks it's real cute, the way you’re struggling over your words. But he decides to grant you a little ease. Thinks you deserve it. “You don’t have to do that. I had a vasectomy before the outbreak,” he says. And when a crease forms between your brows, the question written plainly on your face, he explains, “It’s a procedure that, uh…makes it so I can’t…you know. Do that. Shootin’ blanks.”

It’s only then he realizes the gravity of the situation. Realizes that you didn’t know, because the two of you have never had this conversation, and you were ready and willing and begging to risk everything, to risk being tied to him forever, all for a single moment of bliss, of sweet relief.

“Oh. How convenient,” you say.

“That’s somethin’ you were worried about?” He begins to wonder if you’ve ever felt pressured by him to do things you didn’t want all in the name of pleasing him. Realizes that never once has he asked for your permission. He’s always just…told you what to do. Bossed you around. And there’s a power imbalance here because of his age, isn’t there? His mouth runs dry, his blood runs cold. “You can say no, baby. At any time, with anything. You know that, right?”

You nod, and he feels the panic bleed from his chest as you explain, “I know. I wanted it, too. And I wasn’t worried. I trust you, Joel.”

That fucks him up. Blows through all the defenses he’s put up, all the walls he’s built to keep you out, to keep you at arm's length.

I trust you.

God, he’s fucking done for.

You let out a long breath. He feels at ease the moment you nestle your head in the junction of his shoulder, muscles relaxing as the tension subsides. “I don’t want to see you with her,” you whisper against his throat.

“You won’t,” he says quickly. “I never should’ve gone in the first place.” It’s the truth, and Joel means it. There’s no one for him but you and he knows by now that there never will be.

“So…I’ll only be with you, and you’ll only be with me, and we’ll keep it quiet for a while. That way everyone’s happy.”

“Yeah,” he says. But it’s not enough. Just seconds after the words leave your mouth, there’s a pull within him for more. He wants to parade you around Jackson, to hold your hand and kiss you over dinner at The Tipsy Bison and dance with you so every man in the commune knows who you belong to.

But he can’t. He can’t.

It’s not enough, but it has to be.

Joel can tell there’s another question on the tip of your tongue. He gives you time to work through it, to form the words in whatever way makes you most comfortable. But the longer you stay silent, the deeper that crease between your brows becomes. You swallow thickly, open your mouth, close it again. And Joel feels his heart shatter in his chest because he knows. He knows because he feels it, too. And the words crack in your mouth as you say, “Joel…Joel, I—”

“I know,” he says, because he can’t hear you say it. He can’t. It’s too much. It’ll rip him apart. But he gets it, he understands. He presses his lips to yours, kissing you deeply, hoping you can sense his piety. When he pulls away, your eyes are wide and glassy and you look just as frightened as he feels. “S’okay, baby. I know. Get some sleep.”

Joel holds you a little tighter.

[part three] [part five]

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