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punkshort · 5 months

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i know who you are | 9. the end

Pairing: Joel Miller x f!reader

Chapter Summary: Joel leaves overnight for a scouting mission. When he returns, you finally confess your feelings for him.

Chapter Warnings: language, amnesia, slow burn, dry humping, some dead bodies 'n stuff, fluff, feelings, smut (18+ MDNI), piv unprotected sex, oral sex (f receiving), soft!joel, guns?

WC: 9.1K

Series Masterlist

A/N: Two things. One: I don't have the slightest clue how memory loss works and if what I am about to detail in this chapter is even plausible but if television has taught me anything, nothing is impossible only extremely rare. Two: this is the final chapter and it makes me very sad. I wish I could have thought of more storylines to drag this out but at the end of the day, I feel good about how it all came together and I can't thank quite literally hundreds of you enough for reading this each week. It's kind of insane. So, THANK YOU, THANK YOU, THANK YOU! Also, if anyone wants to toss some one-shot/sequel ideas my way, I am all ears. Much love.

Two Weeks Later

"Joel," you whispered, your head tilted back into the couch cushion while his mouth greedily nipped and sucked at your neck. His hips were grinding lightly against your center and you knew if you didn't stop soon, you would be in trouble. "I think we should slow down."

"Mhmm," he mumbled in agreement, reluctantly pulling his hand from underneath your shirt.

"You're lucky it's still cold enough for me to wear a scarf," you murmured into his hair. He sighed against your neck, finally dragging his mouth away and sat up on the couch while yet another movie went unwatched on the TV.

"Can't seem to get enough of you," he said with a grin, his arm stretching over the back of the sofa. You rolled your eyes dramatically but smiled, pushing yourself up and fixing your shirt before looking at the TV. "Brad Pitt's in this?"

Joel tossed his head back and laughed heartily. "Think he's the main character," he told you, and you scowled at him but he could tell you weren't actually angry.

"Well maybe if you didn't distract me every time we try to watch a damn movie, I would know that."

The past two weeks had been downright perfect. Joel couldn't be any happier. Now that things had changed between you, he craved your touch constantly. Part of him wondered if it was his way of trying to make up for lost time because you weren't wrong: he couldn't keep his hands off you. He had no desire to leave the house or see anybody. All he wanted was to stay holed up with you doing absolutely everything and nothing. He shuddered to think how crazy he would become when you were finally ready to take things further. Tommy will have to drag him by the collar from your bed for his patrol shifts.

"What are you thinking about?" you asked him, leaning into his side and tucking your legs underneath you, only half listening to the movie.

"Patrol," he answered while the tips of his ears burned red from embarrassment, like you caught him doing something he shouldn't be doing. He was perfectly fine waiting as long as it took until you were ready, but it didn't stop him from fantasizing about it. And the fact that he already knew what you felt like, what you sounded like, what made you come undone, worked him up even more.

"How are you feeling about getting back out there?" you asked, tipping your head up to look at him. He didn't seem worried but it was hard to tell sometimes.

"Actually, there was somethin' I wanted to talk to you 'bout," he admitted. "And if you don't want me to do it, I won't. I put you through enough shit as it is-"

"Spit it out, Miller," you said, shifting out from under his arm.

"Now that the snow's melted, I wanna take a couple guys and scout the area for any trace of those raiders," he began, watching your face closely. "I won't go far, but..."

"But?" you pressed, raising an eyebrow.

"But I would be gone overnight. Just one night," he assured you quickly when he saw your face.

"Wouldn't the others have already noticed anything out of the ordinary on patrol?" you asked as anxiety began to squeeze your throat. "I don't understand why you need to go out there."

"'Cause I only trust myself to make sure we're safe," he explained. "If somethin' happened to anyone 'cause I led these assholes to our doorstep, I'd never forgive myself. D'you understand?"

You chewed on your lip and glanced down at your lap as you weighed your options. On one hand, you understood where he was coming from. And if no one else on patrol or guard had yet to see or find anything strange, then Joel would most likely not find anything, either. But on the other hand, just simply leaving Jackson was a risk. And even if Joel didn't find any other raiders, he wouldn't mean he would be safe from whoever or whatever else was out there.

Joel pinched your chin and gently tugged your lip from between your teeth, making you snap out of it.

"Can I go with you?"

Joel's face softened. "No, baby. You don't even remember how to shoot a gun. I can't risk it."

Of course, he was right. "Who would you take?"

He smiled and dropped his hand. "Tommy. Neil. George. Couple others offered, too, but I'm not sure how many we wanna bring. Don't wanna stick out like a sore thumb with ten horses out in the middle of the woods."

You relaxed a bit knowing he would be going with some of Jackson's most seasoned patrolmen.

"Okay," you agreed softly. His face lit up and he leaned forward.

"Yeah?"

"Yeah," you sighed, looking over at the TV as the credits began to roll. He hooked a finger under your chin and dragged your eyes back onto him.

"Thank you," he whispered before pressing his lips firmly against yours, trying with all his might to pour every ounce of affection and adoration he had for you into the kiss. You giggled against his mouth as he tried to push you onto your back once again, but you playfully shoved his shoulder before breaking the kiss and scooting away.

"We told Ellie we'd meet her and Dina for dinner, remember?"

He groaned as if he were in physical pain and reached out for you but you quickly stood up, wagging a finger at him. He gazed up at you from the couch with his brown eyes all wide and gentle.

"I mean it, thank you. I don't know what I did to deserve you."

You blushed and bit your lip as you slowly walked backwards towards the stairs. "You can make it up to me one day."

Joel's gaze darkened and he dug his fingers into the couch cushion. "Just say the word, baby. Anytime. Anywhere."

You laughed and turned towards the steps. "Come on, we should get ready for dinner."

"In a minute," he said as you disappeared upstairs. He closed his eyes and took a few deep breaths, trying to will his raging hard on away before standing up and following you.

You inhaled deeply, your body heavy with sleep as you struggled to focus on Joel's voice.

"Sweetheart, I'm leavin'."

With a groan, you rolled over and reached out for him blindly, your eyes still not fully adjusted to the beam of light shining in from the hallway.

He smiled and grabbed your hands, wrapping them around his neck. He felt your fingers dig into the back of his neck and shoulders as you feebly attempted to pull him towards you.

You asked him to wake you up before he left for his scouting mission, so he did as you requested but you were so warm and soft and supple under his touch that he was finding it impossible to leave.

Maybe you planned it that way.

"I'll be back late tomorrow. I love you," he whispered, pressing a kiss against your temple, taking an extra moment to savor it. When he pulled away, your fingers tightened around his neck and you lifted your chin, kissing him with an urgency he hadn't expected from your half-awake state.

"Come home to me, Joel," you mumbled, your eyes squinting at him through the darkness. He pulled an arm from around his neck and brought your knuckles to his lips.

"Promise."

It was so hard to leave but he kept reminding himself he was doing it to keep you safe. Regardless of what Tommy thought, something in his gut told him they hadn't seen the last of those raiders. He brought them into the mountains, and he was determined to be the one to finish it.

"I'm still surprised she let you do this," Tommy said a few hours into their travels. George was leading the group while he and Tommy brought up the rear. The forest was silent, save for the birds just beginning to wake in the branches above. After a long, painful winter, it was a relief to hear the first signs of spring.

"What'dya mean let me?" Joel scoffed, but when he locked eyes with Tommy, who was giving him a look that said he saw right through his bullshit, Joel grinned. "Yeah, alright, it took a little work but she understood."

Tommy nodded and went back to paying attention to their surroundings. They were officially in unguarded territory, the nearest patrol route now miles behind them. The trees had yet to fully bloom so it was still rather easy to see through the woods.

"I think you really freaked her out when you left," Tommy said, "she came runnin' to the house that mornin' in a panic. Thought she wouldn't let you leave her sight again after that."

Joel hummed and turned his head so his brother wouldn't see his smile. He didn't want to worry you, but every time he heard something like that, it reminded him how much you cared, even if you couldn't say it just yet.

"So, you two back to normal now or what?" Tommy pried. Joel shot him a look and he shrugged. "We got a long journey here. We can't talk to pass the time?"

"Yeah, mostly back to normal," Joel finally answered, shifting his weight in his saddle. He could already feel his lower back beginning to flare up. "Takin' things slow. Givin' her as much time as she needs."

Tommy nodded, reading between the lines. "Didn't look that slow the other night after dinner," he muttered under his breath, but Joel still heard him.

"She had a couple drinks, is all," he replied with a chuckle. He scratched his chin as he thought back to a few nights prior when you had draped your arms around his shoulders and your face buried against his neck for the better part of thirty minutes. It was late, all of the families had cleared out after dinner, leaving behind the adults to kick back and cut loose a bit. It reminded Joel of a time before the world went to hell. When he and Tommy would go to a bar on a Friday night, the smell of stale beer and cigarettes in the air while the patrons had to shout over a mediocre cover band playing Lynyrd Skynyrd. It was the first time in a long time he felt relaxed and at ease. He watched his brother and wife across the bar steal kisses around conversations with neighbors, grateful for a night out as Ellie had offered to babysit. He had you at his side, sipping whiskey and making a face before you switched to something else.

As the night dragged on, you got a little closer. Then your hand found his knee under the table and you tilted your head into his shoulder, quietly listening to him discuss the plan for the trip with George. He wrapped an arm around your waist but his focus was entirely on George, too concerned with the map he had spread out over the wooden table. George's wife finally came to collect him, telling him she was tired and he was too old to be trying to keep up with the younger men, shot for shot. She wasn't wrong by the way he stood up and stumbled a bit, leading him towards the door, leaving just the two of you at your table. Once you were alone, your arms snaked around his neck and you tugged him to your lips, your tongue greedily licking into his mouth, the heavy taste of whiskey and gin on your combined breath.

"You sure it was just the drinks? You don't think it had anythin' to do with Angie sittin' two tables over?"

Joel's face flushed and he cleared his throat. It shouldn't turn him on but he couldn't help it. He liked it when you were possessive over him.

"Didn't think it wise to ask," was all he said. Tommy chuckled.

The group made decent time. They had a grid in mind and they almost reached their desired destination by sundown. When morning came, the plan was they would make their way back towards Jackson and cover the northeast quadrant of the map.

As they set up camp for the night, deciding to forego a fire since the temperature was comfortable and they didn't want to risk giving away their location, Neil commented that they hadn't seen anything out of the ordinary so far.

"Not that I mind coming out here, Joel," he followed up quickly, "always a good idea to take precautions and all that."

Joel nodded and focused on spreading out his sleeping bag. "I appreciate you all comin'. Not sure if I say it enough, but I'm grateful."

Neil and George exchanged surprised looks at the unexpected appreciation.

They got an early start the next morning, and as the sun rose higher in the sky and more ground was covered, Joel began to wonder if maybe they would make it back to Jackson sooner than he thought. He really hoped they would. Even if it was just one day, he missed you. He hated sleeping without you. He hated waking up and not finding you curled up against him with your head resting on his chest or his arms wrapped about your waist, face buried against the back of your neck.

He was glancing around the forest, wondering what you were doing right at that very moment when he spotted something orange in the distance. His heart rate picked up and he whistled, catching the group's attention. He pointed through the trees and they all silently slid down from their horses. Checking their weapons, they fanned out and slowly made their way towards the scrap of fabric. As they got closer, Joel could see it was a knit cap stuck in a bush, fluttering in the wind. None of the men saw any other signs of life, each of them silently communicating with hand signals they were taught years ago.

Tommy heard shuffling and he held up his hand, bringing the group to an immediate stop. From his angle, Joel could see that the bush with the knit cap was right outside the opening of a small cave. The way the trees had grown around the rocks, it was impossible to notice it from a distance.

The perfect hiding spot.

He exchanged worried looks with Tommy before they crept closer, his rifle gripped tightly in both hands, ready for anything. The shuffling got louder and clearer and it became apparent that the noise was coming from right within the mouth of the cave. Catching Tommy's eye, he made sure to show him he was putting his rifle away in favor of his hunting knife. He always preferred a silent takedown over wasting ammunition, but just in case it went sideways, Tommy would be ready to cover him.

Joel situated himself next to the mouth of the cave while the other men, spread out amongst the trees, hid and waited. He reached down and grabbed a rock, throwing it about ten feet away to draw out whoever was hiding.

He didn't even need to see it to know what was waiting for him.

When the rock cracked against a tree trunk and he heard the telltale snarl of infected, he tightened his grip on his knife. The runner stumbled out of the cave with a shriek, jaw snapping angrily in the direction of the noise. Joel had run into his fair share of infected over the years. He knew the noise would have drawn the attention of any infected in the immediate vicinity, and when he only spotted one, he almost breathed a sigh of relief.

He took it down silently with a blade to the back of the head, then inspected the body. It looked fresh, the clothes mostly intact. The rest of the men joined him as they peered inside the cave, listening intently for any movement. When they heard none, they began to advance.

The cave wasn't very big but it was enough to house ten men. At least, that's the number of bodies they found, not a single trace of life left.

"Well, shit," Tommy muttered, kicking one of the mangled bodies with his boot. "Guess that hunch of yours was right."

It didn't exactly please Joel to know he was right, but at least it was the best possible scenario. The men were taken out by infected probably within the past week. He counted the bodies five times. Then recounted the backpacks and sleeping bags. Ten seemed to be the correct number. No one was missing, assuming the runner he had just killed was the only raider who had the misfortune of turning instead of dying right away.

They scavenged what they could from the dead bodies before trekking back to the horses.

"Keep your heads up. Don't mean there ain't anythin' else out here," Joel warned.

"The warmer weather must've thawed out some infected," Tommy mused next to him. Joel nodded.

"Probably should warn the others to keep their guard up the next few weeks," he replied. "Maybe add an extra body to the towers if we can."

Tommy nodded in agreement. The winters in the mountains were harsh but at least they saw a decrease in the undead.

"Now let's get the hell home," George said over his shoulder, the rest of the men mumbling in agreement. Joel ducked his chin to his chest to hide his relieved smile. Home.

To say you were happy to see him return was an understatement. It was closer to ten at night when you finally heard his heavy footsteps on the front porch.

"Told'ya I'd come back," he chuckled when you wrapped your arms around him, squeezing him tight.

"I know," you mumbled into his shirt. His heart swelled in his chest and he closed his eyes, breathing deep the smell of your shampoo. You both had a lot of work to do, essentially starting over and building a relationship from the ground up, but it was moments like those that made him believe everything was going to work out.

"Are you hungry?"

"Nah, just need a shower," he said, dropping his pack by the door and kicking off his boots.

"So I take it you didn't find anything?" you asked, trailing up the stairs behind him. He walked into your bedroom to grab a fresh set of boxers and sweatpants.

"Actually, we did," he began, and your heart plummeted. He saw the look on your face and quickly shook his head. "They were dead by the time we got there. 'Bout ten of 'em holed up in a cave. Infected got to 'em first."

"Oh, wow," you breathed, slowly sinking down onto the bed. "Well, at least you have peace of mind now, right?"

"Exactly," he said, giving you a quick kiss before heading into the bathroom. "Be out in a minute."

You heard the water turn on and you glanced over at the red flannel of Joel's that you slept in the night before. Even though it was clean, it still smelled like him. You glanced at the closed bathroom door and bit your lip, your heart fluttering in your chest as you thought things over. The morning he left, you wished you had told him but you were too sleepy and you wanted it to be more meaningful. Then, when you woke up and his side of the bed was ice cold, you felt the dread begin to creep up your spine. What if something happened and you never told him how you felt?

Well, nothing happened. He was home now. Safe and sound. There was no reason not to tell him.

You heard the water turn off and you jumped up to grab his flannel and scurried out of the bedroom, across the hall to the other bathroom, shutting the door.

Joel emerged a few minutes later with his wet hair slicked back wearing just a pair of sweatpants, per usual. He tossed his dirty clothes in the laundry basket and looked around. He noticed the closed door across the hall and assumed you were getting ready for bed so he slid between the sheets with a groan. He closed his eyes and took a moment to appreciate the mattress underneath him instead of the unforgiving forest floor before leaning over to grab his glasses and a book.

When you tiptoed back into the bedroom wearing only his flannel, he didn't notice at first. His focus was on the small print in front of him, blinking a few times and wondering if he needed stronger lenses when you cleared your throat. He glanced up and did a double take, his lips parting in shock when he saw his red flannel hugging your curves, the hem falling just below your ass.

You looked up at him and feigned surprise. "Oh, is this okay? I was cold-"

"Yes," he swallowed, immediately cutting you off, "it's okay."

You smiled and made a show of bending over to fix the sheets. Again, he swallowed tightly when he caught a glimpse of your black underwear and he felt his cock twitch. Before you turned around he made sure to be focused back on his book, although he was most definitely not absorbing any of the words on the page.

Out of the corner of his eye he saw you peel back the sheets and with a sigh, you tucked yourself in. You glanced over at him, admiring his strong side profile and the way his glasses perched on the tip of his nose.

"I missed you," you whispered, and he dragged his eyes from his book to look at you.

"I missed you, too."

You caught the way his eyes flicked down to your chest where you purposely left two buttons undone so you exposed a little bit of cleavage.

"What are you reading?" you asked, and he laughed through his nose.

"I've got no fuckin' idea."

In a flash, his book was discarded and you were in his lap, your mouth hungrily devouring his as he carefully removed his glasses and tossed them to the side. He wrapped both arms around you and held you close to his bare chest, his tongue licking past your teeth eagerly.

"You look so fuckin' good in my clothes," he growled, sounding as if it pained him before biting at your jaw.

"I wore your shirts the whole time you were gone," you admitted, rolling your head back and grinding down on his hips. You bit your lip when you felt how hard he was already. "Almost the whole week. I slept in your bed and-"

"Fuck," Joel groaned, grabbing your face with both hands and feverishly plunged his tongue into your mouth. You moaned and grabbed his shoulders, the intensity behind the kiss growing too hot. You could feel yourself tumbling, free-falling into the abyss with the unspoken words sitting heavy on your tongue, hoping Joel would be there to catch you.

"Wait," you gasped, pulling away, but only a little. Your forehead still rested against his as you both panted for air.

"I know, I'm sorry-" he was about to apologize for taking things too far when you cut him off.

"Do you remember all those months ago when I asked how I fell in love with you?"

Joel nodded. "Yeah."

"Do you remember what you said?"

He tilted his head back, lips parted as he gazed up at you, wondering why you were asking him those questions in that moment.

"Yeah," he replied slowly, "I said you're gonna have to wait to find out."

You bit your lip and with a shaky hand, you traced one of the wrinkles next to his eyes. "Well, I found out."

His chest stilled, breath caught in his throat as he processed your words. His eyes roamed over your face, hoping and praying he wasn't misunderstanding. When you saw him nervously swallow, you smiled.

"I love you, Joel."

His eyebrows pinched together and before you could see the tears welling up in his eyes, he pulled you down for another searing kiss. This time, he went slower. He savored every second, he memorized everything he possibly could about that moment because the way you made him feel hearing those words was unlike anything he ever experienced and he didn't want to take a single second for granted.

"I love you, too," he choked. He could feel you smile against his lips when he pressed his mouth against yours again. "Fuck, I love you so much," he mumbled, his hands falling to your hips, "I'd do anythin' for you."

Your mouth latched onto his throat and you dropped your hand between your bodies, your fingers lightly stroking him through his pants. And once again, you felt his muscles stiffen and freeze.

For a moment, the self-doubt crept in. What if he didn't want to? Was he too tired? Was he not ready? Then his hand covered your wrist and you watched as he slowly dragged your hand up and down, showing you what he liked. Encouraging you to continue. So you did.

His head tipped back against the headboard with a sigh and he squeezed his eyes shut, removing his hand and letting you take control. He wanted - no, needed - you to call the shots. You needed to take it as far as you wanted to take it.

When your fingers dipped below his waistband, he tensed.

When he finally felt your soft touch on his cock, he groaned.

It was better than he even remembered. His eyes were still closed as you worked him up and down, the arousal pooling between your legs the longer you spent just feeling him and not seeing him.

"I want you," you whispered in his ear, and his hips jolted as he whined against your shoulder. You wanted him.

When he opened his eyes, he looked absolutely wrecked. You could see that he was trying his best to hold back, trying his best to make sure you were comfortable, that you weren't feeling pressured, that you really wanted it.

But when you sweetly whispered please, Joel, he didn't hesitate. He flipped you onto your back and pulled hastily at the buttons of his flannel while he cemented his mouth against yours. Your hands drifted to his hair and back, pulling and scratching as you went while he finally flung open the shirt. He instantly latched his lips around your nipple, making you moan and arch your back underneath him.

"So beautiful," he mumbled against your chest. "Tell me again."

You smiled and peered down at him. "I love you."

He breathed a sigh of relief, his exhale fanning over your skin, making your nipples tighten. His rough hands slid down your stomach, thick fingers splayed wide, trying to touch as much of you as possible at once.

You could hear your heartbeat thrumming steadily in your ears when he dipped his fingers below the elastic of your underwear, a deafening sound that made it hard to focus but when he slid a finger slowly through your arousal, your senses suddenly sharpened. The house could have been on fire but you never would have known because all you could focus on was him.

He dragged his open mouth across your chest, teeth grazing over your collarbone, tongue flicking out and tasting you as he went. His lips puckered and sucked at your skin as he pet gently at your entrance, making you squirm with need and tug impatiently at his hair. When he pulled his hand out of your underwear, you made a frustrated little noise that made him smile. He popped his finger into his mouth and you watched, struggling to breathe, as his eyes fluttered closed and he moaned like he had just slipped into a warm bath after a hard day.

"God, I missed that," he whispered, and the look on his face made you actually believe him.

"Joel..." you breathed, plucking feebly at the waistband of his sweatpants.

"Lemme just make you come on my mouth first," and before you could respond, he was shimmying down between your legs and tugging off your panties. When you glanced down and saw how good it looked with his head between your legs, you relaxed and leaned back. How could you argue with that view?

"Oh," you sighed when his tongue first slid through your folds. You tipped your head back and closed your eyes, allowing your muscles to melt under his touch. His hands held your thighs open but he didn't need to bother. There was no possible way you would do anything to stop him. Not when he felt so good, taking his time and expertly lavishing your core with his tongue. And perhaps he was an expert. At least when it came to you, he had five years of experience to fall back on. He surely must have figured out what you liked in all that time.

Your breath was growing ragged and you could feel the heat creeping up your chest. He pressed the backs of your thighs, pushing your knees up towards your chest so he could devour every inch of you, eating messily at your cunt. You pulled your knees back and hooked your hands around each one, your thighs becoming too shaky to hold open with your own strength.

It was a combination of his lips wrapping around your clit and the deep groan that rumbled through his chest that made you come undone the first time. Instant relief flashed through your body and you released your knees, letting your legs fall limply onto the quilt while he eagerly cleaned you up with his tongue.

When he sensed it was too much, he began peppering kisses along your inner thighs, murmuring praise into your skin as he went. You opened your eyes and peered down at him, your breath getting caught in your throat at the sight. His mouth and beard were glistening with your slick, his own eyes remained shut as he mindlessly nipped and kissed your skin, but even from your angle you could see him rutting his hips into the mattress, looking for any amount of friction to relieve the ache.

You reached your arms out to him and he inched up but stopped at your stomach. He sighed and rested the side of his head against your belly, listening to your breath evening out as he closed his eyes and wrapped his arms around your waist. It took you by surprise that he wasn't immediately jumping at the chance to chase his own release when it was clear just a moment before he was dying for it. You glanced down at him and smiled when you saw the look on his face, simply content with just holding and being close to you. Carding your fingers through his curls, you heard him hum before pressing a gentle kiss against your stomach.

It might have been that moment when you realized he was right. What you had was special and rare. You could feel it in your bones, the way a look or touch sent a jolt right through you. The way you felt drawn to him, even from the very first day of your accident, you could sense something in him. You had no idea at the time what it was, but you were beginning to understand now.

"Joel?" you whispered, worried he might have somehow fallen asleep. Then you felt it. The first hot teardrop hit your skin and your heart clenched. "C'mere," you said, tugging at his shoulders. Begrudgingly, he obeyed. And after his arms loosened and he unpeeled his wet face from your belly, you saw the anguish in his eyes. All watery and wide and guilt-ridden.

"I don't deserve you," he said softly, his voice breaking a bit as you cupped his jaw. "Never did and definitely don't now. Not after everything I've done. Don't deserve your forgiveness, let alone your love."

You shushed him and pressed your lips tenderly against his, your thumb wiping away his tears as they fell.

"Don't tell me who I can and cannot love," you said, taking his chin in your hand and giving it a firm shake, like you were punishing him. He chuckled thickly through the tears.

You pulled him down by the back of his neck and kissed him slower, your tongue just barely dipping into his mouth. He groaned when you began to plant wet kisses along his jaw and you noticed with pride that his chest was rising and falling faster than usual while his hips ground into yours.

"Love you s'much," he almost sounded drunk, the feel of your mouth over his skin clouding his mind and mushing his words together.

"Yeah?" you asked before sucking a bruise where his jaw met his throat. "Then show me."

Joel kicked off his sweatpants and boxers with a grunt but when you went to remove his flannel from around your shoulders, he stopped you.

"Leave it on."

Your cheeks flared with heat at the way he looked at you and all you could do was nod and bite your lip.

It felt like time stood still when you first felt him enter you. Like nothing else in the world mattered outside of those four walls. He held your gaze and your fingers dug into his back, each of you savoring the stretch with your mouths hung open, the only sound was the occasional sharp little breath or gasp from one or both of you.

You could see it in his face again and you had a feeling you mirrored his look. It was too intense. Too overwhelming. So much had happened that led up to that moment: all the fear, sadness, laughter, arguments, long talks and shared traumas came crashing down at once. A tear slid down your cheek right when his hips came flush with yours and he leaned down to kiss it away.

"You okay?"

You nodded and wiped another tear away with the back of your hand.

"It's just a lot, y'know?" you sniffled, hoping he understood. And he did.

His eyes glistened and he smiled, his fingers brushing away a few stray pieces of hair from your face. "I know. We've come a long way."

"Yeah," you whispered, blinking back more tears. Your fingertips traced his bottom lip, your eyes flickering around his face, taking in every little crease and dimple. "Kiss me."

He did as you asked, kissing you slow and deep, matching pace with his hips. Your fingers dug into his arms, holding onto him, keeping him close. His hand pushed his flannel back, exposing one of your shoulders while your head tilted back into the pillows, momentarily breaking away for air. You moaned softly when he began to grind his hips against you, providing your clit with some much needed stimulation while he dragged his mouth down the column of your throat and across your collarbone. When he sunk his teeth gently into your shoulder, he felt you clench around him and gasp.

How's that feel?

Do that again.

Tell me you love me.

I love you.

Those sweet, desperate whispers were shared, breathed into each other's mouths, every word dragged out, every touch deliberate and slow. Neither of you in the mood to rush a thing as your fingers tightly laced together next to your head.

His other hand skirted around your back and under his shirt, palm pressing against your spine, pulling you closer to him, if it was even possible. He flexed his hips and you groaned when the tip of his cock hit a spot that had your entire body buzzing.

"Right there," you whimpered into his neck, brows pinched together and stomach tightening as you concentrated on the fire being stoked deep within you. Every one of his powerful thrusts was adding fuel to the flames. Your skin was slick with sweat and you began to regret keeping his flannel on.

"I know, baby. I remember," he whispered, tightening his grip on you. "Fuck, y'feel so good, I can't-"

"Don't stop! Please, Joel, more," you begged, tears welling up and spilling down your cheeks the closer and closer he pushed you to the edge. Your thighs tensed around his waist and his lips kissed the tears away and when you came, crying his name into his skin, he soothed you. He told you how much he loved you, how much he missed being so close to you, reminded you he was right there, that he had you and everything was okay.

Moments later, you felt his body tremble and his hips stutter. In a haze, you loosened your legs from around his waist. His lips captured yours frantically, fast puffs of exhale fanning over your cheek as he got more and more lost in chasing his climax. Your shaking fingers reached up to get tangled in his hair, ensuring his mouth remained firmly planted against your lips, muffling his groans and garbled versions of your name and I love yous, swallowing everything down until he yanked his hips away, spilling himself all over your stomach.

You both broke the kiss and looked down between your bodies, watching as each weak thrust painted your skin with more and more of his release until he finally stilled and shuddered.

After he finally forced himself to stand, he cleaned you up and slipped back into bed, one of his legs sticking out from underneath the covers, still slightly panting for air. You curled into his side, his arm wrapped around you, pulling you snug against him, his nose getting buried in your hair as you listened to each other's breaths even out. You quietly told him about a wound you stitched up at work all by yourself the day before and he told you how proud he was of you. You listened to him tell you a little more about his trip, how relieved he felt now that he confirmed with his own eyes Jackson was safe. At least, for the time being.

The last thing you remembered was him telling you how much he hated sleeping on the ground and how much he missed you while his knuckles soothingly dragged over your stomach but all you could think about was the warm glow that radiated from your skin and the delicious soreness between your legs as you drifted off to sleep.

The next morning, you heard birds singing outside your window. You smiled before you even opened your eyes. Spring was coming. You always loved spring. Something about it made you hopeful and calm, and that morning was no exception.

You awoke still wrapped in his arms and his flannel, your cheek pressed against his bare chest, one of your legs slotted between his, enjoying the peace and quiet the morning brought.

"I thought you died," you admitted quietly once he woke, your fingertips tracing over the scar above his hip. "When you didn't come back that day, I was so worried. So scared my last words to you were something cruel and hurtful."

He hummed and said, "Oh darlin', I'm so sorry," then kissed the top of your head.

"Don't be. In a way, it helped me realize how much I care about you," you replied, lifting your chin from his chest to glance up at him. He always looked way too handsome in the morning. It was hardly fair. "Made me realize I couldn't live without you."

He grinned and rolled his shoulder, stretching out his sore muscles. "Well, if that's all it took, why didn't you say somethin' sooner?"

You giggled and looked back down at his scar, the smile slowly slipping from your face the longer you looked at the pale jagged edges marring his bronzed skin. "God, that day you didn't come back, though," you continued, your brow furrowed as you thought, "I had the worst pit in my stomach. Almost like I knew something was wrong, you know?"

He nodded and closed his eyes, letting you talk, completely at ease listening to your voice.

"It probably didn't help I had woken up that morning from the worst fucking nightmare."

"What nightmare?" he asked sleepily.

You chuckled when you thought about it.

"It's not really funny," you explained, rolling off of him and onto your back, pulling his flannel closed as you moved. "It had started out just like this, actually. It was morning, we were in bed and we were talking... about death?" you said the last part as if it were a question. "I was asking you if you believed in heaven and I told you I was afraid we were going to hell." His eyes snapped open and he quickly rolled his head to look at you, waiting for you to continue. You laughed again and shrugged. "I guess it felt like a premonition or something. Really freaked me out, it felt so real."

"What else?" he asked excitedly, sitting up. You looked up at him and cocked your head to the side.

"What do you mean?"

"What else do you remember? From the nightmare?"

"Oh," you said, pushing yourself up so you were also sitting. You stared at the wall blankly as you thought about it. "You told me we aren't bad people, and even though I told you we had done bad things, I believed you. Then..." you felt your cheeks flush and he sat forward eagerly.

"Then what?" he urged, and when you looked at him again, any trace of playfulness was gone.

"Then... it got a little dirty but I woke up before anything happened. But I do remember you were on top of me and you said-"

"This is heaven right here?" he finished for you, and you looked at him in surprise.

"Yes! How did-"

"That was no nightmare, honey. That happened," he told you, his voice rising. He thought his heart was going to explode, it was racing so fast.

"What?" you whispered, but Joel was already jumping out of bed and tugging on his boxers.

"C'mon, get up! We gotta take you to see Nick!"

"Wait," you said, buttoning up his flannel as he flew around the room, grabbing new clothes for you both. "Joel, this was a month ago, what will going to see Nick do?"

"I-I-I don't know! But we gotta tell him. Maybe there's somethin' we can do if we know you're capable of -"

"Joel, sit down," you said, cutting him off. He froze, having just tugged on a shirt but his jeans were still left unzipped and unbuttoned. You stared at him until he took the few steps towards the bed and sat down on the edge. "I'll talk to Nick next time I'm at work, but I don't want to barge in there and take up his time. You know this is out of his area of expertise."

He looked disappointed but he knew you were right because he finally nodded in agreement and bit the inside of his cheek while he stared at the floor. You put a hand on his shoulder and squeezed, drawing his attention back onto you.

"It doesn't matter, anyway," you said softly. "If my memories come back, then they come back. If they don't, they don't. All that matters is this... right?" you asked, inching closer to him and resting a hand on his thigh. He smiled and enveloped your hand in his.

"Yeah, you're right," he said, staring down at your conjoined hands for a moment. "You wanna go get some breakfast? Maybe talk 'bout it a bit more?"

"Sure," you replied, then leaned forward, kissing him tenderly before standing up. "I should probably shower, though. Last night got a little messy," you said, tossing him a wink over your shoulder. He smirked and watched your ass sway back and forth in his fucking clothes as you made your way to the bathroom. You turned around in the doorway, one hand on the knob, the other braced against the frame as you looked at him expectantly from across the room. "Aren't you coming?"

All the blood rushed directly between his legs and just like that, his excitement for you recalling a memory was replaced by a very different kind of excitement.

"Hell, yes," he said, standing up and shucking off his shirt as he followed you into the bathroom. He grabbed your face with both hands and crashed his mouth against yours, kicking the door shut behind him.

Three Months Later

"Can't believe I'm the one teachin' you how to shoot," Joel muttered in disbelief as you walked back from the line of trees where he had hammered a paper target into one of the trunks. "You were always a better shot than me. Almost better than Tommy, and he was in the goddamn Army."

You laughed and shook your head, still finding it difficult to believe that you ever shot a gun before. From what you remember, you were always afraid of guns growing up.

"Maybe I'm a natural, then."

Enough time had passed and the weather had gotten warm enough where you decided it would be beneficial to re-learn how to shoot. You didn't plan on going back to patrol, but in the world you lived in, it was an important skill to have.

You sat down next to Joel on the fallen tree trunk in the middle of a small field about two miles away from Jackson. He picked up each one of his guns and inspected them, making sure they were clean so there wouldn't be much kickback.

"Have any dreams lately?"

You sighed and shook your head. "Just the one about Ellie, and that was over a month ago."

When you woke up one morning from a dream that felt all too real, you shook Joel awake to tell him about it. It was a simple dream, but it felt intense. You had dreamed Ellie sat you and Joel down at the kitchen table, and full of nerves, explained that she was seeing someone. Someone she cared about deeply. You seemed to catch on quicker than Joel because the conversation lead to where Ellie had to point blank explain to him that she was dating another girl. He seemed surprised but not overly shocked, and when he shrugged it off and still maintained that his only concern was her partner treating her right, her face broke out into a huge smile.

After he confirmed it was a memory, you agreed to see Nick. He didn't end up having much insight on what spurred your sudden recollection that day, just as you expected. But much to your surprise, Joel was perfectly calm. In fact, he made a point of thanking Nick and you even saw him smile at the other man.

And it wasn't just Nick you noticed his demeanor changing toward, either. When kids playing in the street bumped into him, he laughed and waved them off. When Jesse proposed to his girlfriend, Joel was one of the first in line to give him a hearty handshake and wished them well.

You weren't sure if his behavior changed because you were so revolted by it in the beginning, or if he was just happier in general, but you didn't complain.

"Alright, so which one d'you think we're gonna use from this distance?" he asked after he showed you his revolver and then his rifle, explaining the difference between each: how they handled, when to use them, when not to use them, and then finally, how to load and unload them.

You gave him a blank look. "The rifle, Joel. I'm not a complete idiot. I've seen movies."

He grinned and holstered his revolver.

"Good girl. Beauty and brains," he said, and you rolled your eyes.

"Don't start."

"What?" he asked innocently.

"Don't start flirting with me. You'll distract me and I want to take this seriously."

"I ain't flirtin' with you."

"Yes, you are!"

He laughed heartily at your frustrated little pout. "Can you blame me? You're so goddamn cute."

"Joel..." you whined, and he held up both hands in defeat before picking up the rifle.

"Alright, alright. Lemme shoot off a few rounds and you watch my form, okay? Watch my shoulders and where my hands go."

"Okay."

You observed him as he took aim at the target, nearly hitting the bullseye but not quite.

"You wanna give it a shot?"

"Pun intended?"

He grinned and held out the rifle, so you grabbed it and sunk down to one knee, resting your elbows on the tree trunk as you tried to imitate his posture.

"Like this?"

"Mhm," he said, "now take a deep breath and squeeze the trigger nice 'n slow."

Doing as you were told, you inhaled and blinked a few times, making sure your vision was clear and your eye was on the prize. Pursing your lips, you slowly exhaled and squeezed the trigger - only to miss hitting the target entirely.

"Shit," you grumbled, sitting back on your heels.

"You got spooked by the kickback," Joel said, "try again, but this time try not to flinch."

You shouldered the rifle and took aim, once again taking a deep breath and focusing on the little yellow circle in the middle of the target. When you fired off your second round, doing your best not to flinch, you clipped the edge of the paper, but you were no where near the center.

"Goddamnit!" you yelled angrily. Joel chuckled and crouched behind you.

"Here. Lemme help you."

He wrapped his arms around yours and pressed his chest against your back, his hands coming to rest on top of yours as he made some minuscule adjustments to your posture.

"Y'gotta be gentle, see?" he whispered in your ear. Your eyelids fluttered but you managed to nod. "Gotta be patient. Don't let her scare you. Think of her as an extension of you. Like another arm."

"Her?" you teased.

He chuckled, his breath puffing against the back of your neck. "Yeah. Her. I'm respectful and careful with all my girls."

"All?" you repeated, leaning into him a bit. "How many are there?"

"Oh, tons," he said, making you giggle. "But if it makes you feel any better, you're my favorite."

"A favorite over a bunch of guns? I'm so flattered."

"Hey, now. Didn't you just say you wanted to take this seriously? C'mon, focus up," and you knew he was right so you straightened up and pressed your eye against the scope once again.

Joel stayed behind you, his hands on your shoulders to help stabilize your upper body as you squeezed off shot after shot. His advice helped a little, you were at least hitting the paper, but you weren't getting anywhere near his shots from earlier. He could see you were growing frustrated so when you ran out of bullets, he took the rifle and told you to take a break while he reloaded.

"It's okay, darlin'. It's gonna take a bit to get used to it."

You sighed and slumped forward on the tree trunk. "Yeah, I guess," you mumbled.

For the next twenty minutes, Joel coached you while you struggled to remember all his advice at once. Keep your shoulders loose. Don't flinch. Follow through. Breathe. When you pulled the last round into the chamber and took aim, you expected it to go like all the others so you stopped worrying about it and just pulled the trigger.

"Holy shit, you did it!" Joel exclaimed excitedly. You hadn't even bothered to look, so you quickly brought the scope back up to your face. When you saw the small little circle burning a hole through the paper, nearly dead center, you squealed and quickly placed the rifle against the tree so you could jump into Joel's arms. He wrapped his arms around your ribs and spun you around while you giggled into his neck.

"Told you," he said with a wide grin after he put you back down. You grabbed his face with both hands and pulled him into you, crashing your lips together, taking him by surprise. He stumbled forward but wrapped a hand around the back of your neck just as you lost your own footing and fell onto the grass, dragging him down with you.

You laughed against his mouth, still peppering kisses all over his face. He braced both arms on either side of you, elbows digging into the warm grass, smile permanently stretching across his cheeks as he soaked up your affection.

When your laughter died down, you pulled away to gaze up at him, your fingers playing with the dark curls at the base of his neck. The sun was shining over the field and onto his tanned skin, making his sparkling brown eyes look like the color of gold. It took your breath away.

"You're so handsome," you whispered in awe, your fingers leaving his hair in favor of stroking the graying stubble dusting his cheeks. He blushed and shook his head, but before he could protest, you spoke again. "I love you so much, Joel. Sometimes it makes me sad to think we probably wouldn't have ever known each other if the world didn't end."

His eyes softened and he gave you a small smile, tucking a stray piece of hair behind your ear. "I'll always find you. In every life, in every universe. You've got a piece of me," he tapped your chest lightly, "I don't make the rules."

You laughed and laced your fingers together with his. "Like fate?"

He shrugged. "Call it whatever you want. I already told you, sweetheart. We're meant to be together."

You pulled him down for another kiss, this one more gentle. More loving. More intimate. For the hundredth time, you mentally berated yourself for wasting so much time after your accident when you could have been with him like this, being loved and adored and cherished all along. Instead, you both had been searching endlessly for some version of yourself that you weren't sure you would ever find again. But then you realized if you never did, that was okay. Because you got to fall in love with each other all over again, and how many people get to say that?

#joel miller #joel miller fanfiction #joel miller fic #joel miller smut #joel the last of us #joel miller x reader #pedro pascal #joel miller fluff #pedro pascal characters fanfiction #the last of us game #the last of us hbo #the last of us fanfiction #the last of us #ikwya fic #joel miller fanfic #joel miller tlou

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heich0e · 10 months

Text

suna's parents divorced when he was eight.

he doesn't remember a lot of the finer details as he's gotten older, mostly just that there used to be a lot of yelling, but he does remember the two piles of belongings that stacked up in the empty living room of his childhood home: one consisting of his father's and his own, and the other comprised of his mother's and his little sister's. their entire life, their entire family, packed up into cardboard and then divided down the middle.

the apartment he moved into with his father was always too quiet. it was in aichi, far enough away from where he spent the first decade of his life that he didn't have to be reminded of it every time he left the house, but since his father worked so much it still left him with plenty of time to think. to grieve. though maybe he didn't recognize it as that at the time. he played video games his father bought for him after school. ate convenience store bentos or whatever leftovers were set aside for him in the fridge for dinner. he put himself to bed at night. it wasn't a bad life, though maybe a bit lonely.

he was scouted to play for inarizaki when he was 14.

the lonely apartment turned into a lively dorm. he had new friends (his teammates) to play video games with. his convenience store bentos were replaced with hot meals from the meal hall. the loneliness of the apartment in aichi was a distant memory, but still lingered.

"i'm home."

rintarou drops his training bag in the genkan as he toes off his shoes, calling into the apartment to announce his return.

"welcome home!" you call back from further in the apartment, and the sound makes him smirk a little to himself.

you've been coming over to his place a lot lately, ever since he gave you his spare key. he's not upset about this in the slightest, but it doesn't mean he won't take every possible opportunity to tease you for it. he plans how he's going to make fun of you as he pads into his home towards the sound of your voice. he almost has it all planned out—his delivery on the very tip of his tongue—when he falters to a stop.

"how was your day?" you ask him without looking up from what you're doing.

and suddenly, anything rintarou may have wanted to say—joke or otherwise—is beyond him.

he watches as you set a plate of food down on the already full table just off his little kitchen. the food that covers the surface is still hot enough that steam curls up into the air above it, its preparation perfectly timed to his arrival home. his apartment is warm, and smells good, and there's music playing from your cellphone on the other side of the room that you must have been listening to while you cooked.

his chest feels tight.

you turn to look at him when he doesn't respond to your question.

"rin?" you ask again, a lilt of worry in your tone. "you okay?"

"what's all this?" he manages to ask, nodding towards the table where the meal you prepared is still waiting.

"oh, i've been craving my mom's recipe for the past few days, i just thought i'd make it for dinner," you say, tugging at your fingers nervously. your entire countenance is a bit different now, strained like you're worried you've done something wrong. "hope that's okay?" your words lift at the end like a question.

rintarou's never seen so much food on his table. can't remember the last time he even sat there to eat a meal—let alone a home cooked one. his face feels hot, and his eyes sting, and he just can't bring himself to look at you.

"yeah," he says, and if you notice how his voice is a bit croaky, you're nice enough not to tease him about it. "'course it's okay."

you smile, and you look relieved. "wash your hands then, it's getting cold."

you eat your dinner together and talk about your days. you take a shower while he cleans up the dishes. you fall asleep tangled up together on the couch with a movie playing in the background.

his home isn't quiet anymore. he isn't lonely.

and it's thanks to you.

#suna x reader #suna rintarou x reader #hq drabble #hq writing

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chrispotatos · 2 months

Text

teaser- matt sturniolo

!Blurb! (i think)

warnings: suggestive, smut (intended)

summary: you've been sexually frustrated and your embarrassed so you act grumpy and don't wanna ask matt for help with your 'problem'

a/n: i come up with random ass shit at 3 am.

"Do you know whats going on over here?"

"have you even bothered to look?"

you and matt were both at target and to no suprise you didn't wanna be there.

"lets go home" you demanded while matt was scanning the shelves for a lego set. "can you wait, im looking for something" he responded vaguely

"we're leaving" you told him.

the boldness of your tone made matt do a double take. "what'd you say?" he asked in a condescending manner, lowering his gaze on you.

it made you nervous and regret your choice of words only in the slightest. what he did doesn't stop you from scoffing and rolling your eyes, walking away with a bad attitude. you went to the car by yourself and waited for matt to drive you two back to his shared home with his brothers.

---

you were laying on the couch and matt was sitting on the wooden floor infront of the coffee table building the lego set he just bought.

in what felt like a random question he asked what you wanted to eat. but you ignored him it's not like he did anything wrong, you just didn't feel like answering him. despite all this pent up sexual frustration, you felt the need to ignore the person you craved most.

"y/n i know you heard me" assertiveness was added to his tone. it made you undeniably wet, the way he exerted his dominace aroused you. im sure he knew that and he probably also knew what was wrong with you; he almost always does

" you gonna ignore me now?" he cuts your phone off and that makes you shoot up from your position "fuck off. im clearly not talking to you, for a reason"

he looked around the room as if he was clueless to who you were speaking to. "who you talkin to like that, cause i know it's not me" his boston accent leaking out onto his words

matt was completely opposed by the way you were acting.

"you. thats who" you fired back. his tounge sucked his teeth "nope. no ma'am. not happening" he grabbed you by the wrist, practically dragging you towards his room "matt stop it. what're you doing?"

You tried pulling your wrist out of his grip and resist as much as possible but you also didn't try hard enough, because this is what you been waiting for.

---

before you know it the both of you were in his room, his hands wondered all over your body.

your backside was against the front of him and he was kissing down your neck. his touch was all-consuming, you were convinced you could have had an orgasm right there. every touch felt electric, his kisses sent shivers all over.

"this what you wanted angel?" he asked.

you nodded your head vigourisly. his hands proceeded to go up your jean skirt and to your soaked panties. his fingers rubbed your clothed clit, earning a whimper from you.

"too bad. wanna act like a brat you get the treatment of one" he removed his hands from the aching heat; growing in your core.

"please im sorry" you sit on the bed watching matt walk to the door of his room "i said it okay. im sorry" you whined every fiber of your being was desperate for his attention, and longing for his touch.

it's been almost a week since you and matt did anything sexual. from his busy work schedule to his tiredness and lack of desire to do anything and vise versa.

"come talk to me when you're actually sorry and aren't being desperate" he shut the door behind him leaving you in his room alone with nothing but your own imagination of where that could have gone but didn't escalate any higher because of the attitude you had all day, damn near all week.

pt.2

a/n: this could possibly have a pt.2 but it could also be left like this. lmk what y'all are thinking.

#matt sturniolo x reader #matt x reader #mattsturniolo #matt sturniolo imagine #matt sturniolo smut #matt sturniolo fluff #sturniolo fanfic #matthew sturniolo #matt sturniolo #chris sturniolo x reader #chris sturniolo #chris sturniolo smut #sturniolo imagine #sturniolo triplets #SoundCloud

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kasssscali · 11 months

Note

If the request are still open, may I request some jealous Jax headcanons please? (Not dating the reader yet) thank you! ♡♡♡

A/N: yessiiiir Also requests are still closed, this person requested when they where open and I now just got to that

I definitely see Jax being the type to get jealous easily, I have previously stated that he absolutely adores and craves any form of attention

it explains why he’s such a dick all the time

it takes him forever to realize that he’s catching feelings for someone, and that certain someone was YOU

its honestly infuriating to Jax, he can’t explain why he feels that way when it comes to you, at first he doesn’t know what it even is

During his stage of denial and questioning, his focus is on you a lot

what your doing, what your up to, and even potential dark fears he can find out

but seeing you get along so well with the other circus members instead of him, hurts him deep down

he’s in denial, and tries to shrug off that he doesn’t care at all

You apparently get along great with Kinger the most, the HOOHA of all people

“What do you see in that guy anyway?” He’ll straight up ask you about that, he’s very detailed with his facial expressions and you can see the visible annoyance in his face

Kinger is just a friend to you, “mhm, yeah sure” He’ll sell that attitude with an eye roll

he doesn’t want anyone knowing how much this is actually getting to him

Jax doesn’t hide his feelings when it comes to anger, annoyance, and anything frustrated related

and it’s so obvious that he’s frustrated with you being supposedly GREAT friends with Kinger

little does he know that his attitude pushes you away more, in order for Jax to come to terms with his emotions he needs someone to tell his to his face

him trying to figure out the problem let alone solve it is nearly impossible

When you start giving some attention to Jax, he’ll go right back to his usual self of being a dick

but now he’s especially a dick to YOU, which kind of proves that deep down he needed your attention

The two of you aren’t official, and Jax has no idea what he is feeling and how to deal with it

he’ll follow you around casually, he won’t in the slightest make a big deal about his little obsession with you

he’s not afraid to express his annoyance to you, if it seems like your shrugging him off his attitude is going to switch up real quick and it gets to the point where it makes you snap

”what are you in love with me or something?!”

Jax stares at you offensively, and he’s dead quiet for a second

”pppsssshhh! No” He‘ll wave his hand at you dismisvely “what makes you even think that?~”

but what you said can’t get out of his head, then it’s up to Zooble to help him out

I think that Zooble can easily read people, and sees the crush that he is oblivious too

#jax x reader #tadc #the amazing digital circus #tadc x reader #tadc jax x reader #the amazing digital circus x reader

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pomefioredove · 5 months

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i crave angst and hurt/comfort/fluff maybe something like that with vil? maybe reader gets hurt pretty badly or something and vil gets upset?? hehe angsty scenarios>>

on my hands and knees rn... vil... save me vil...

summary: anger is an ugly emotion type of post: fic characters: vil additional info: romantic, reader is gender neutral, reader is yuu, angsty..... mentions of bullying/abuse etc?? very open ended you can interpret that how you please, GOD this is indulgent

Anger is an ugly emotion.

So much is true even for Vil Schoenheit. If you asked him, there is nothing more undignified than losing your composure in front of others, especially those under your care.

No, Vil keeps such emotions to himself. If he feels the need to get a point across, or to settle a conflict, he will do so with grace and dignity. He won't even break a nail.

This is different.

This is seeing you turn away from him with tears in your eyes, and feeling as if the very world itself is crashing down around him.

He cannot stand it.

He cannot stand seeing you like this.

It shakes him to his very core. You've had bad days, evenings where you come crawling into Pomefiore looking as if the world had chewed you up and spit you back out at his feet, and he's tended to it.

He's combed your hair, cleaned the dirt out from under you nails, bandaged your paper cuts with a sort of gentleness he doesn't even reserve for himself, made you look new and whole again.

Vil can't help with this.

It drives him mad. It makes him feel like he's stuck inside his own ribcage with nothing but the sound of his beating heart, trapped in a flurry of confusion and anxiety.

He wishes you would just talk about it. It would make everything so much easier if you would let him help.

But he won't pressure you. He couldn't bring himself to. And, quite frankly, if he knew even the slightest detail about whomever had been making you feel this way, he was afraid he wouldn't be able to stop himself from finding them and mincing them to shreds.

As they deserved.

But Vil is not one to rush into anything. He is patient, cordial, taking his sweet time to understand a problem from all angles before enacting a solution.

And so, he doesn't ask.

He holds your chin between his delicate fingers and dabs at the corners of your eyes, hoping to brush away your misery along with your tears.

You sniffle. It's not a pretty sight- you're certainly no graceful crier.

He couldn't care less.

The only thing that Vil can think of now is how only one measly person could be your undoing.

After everything you've been through without even breaking a sweat, all it took were a few too-familiar words to melt you into a pool of bad memories and misery at his feet.

Sevens help whichever poor fool had done this to you.

"Now, now. That's alright," he coos, wiping your cheeks just as a new barrage of tears runs down them. "Don't worry about a thing."

You just barely manage to choke out a response. "I'm sorry, this is- this is embarrassing,"

"Nonsense. You have nothing to feel bad for. I promise I won't utter a word of this to the others,"

He cups your face in his palms, giving you a moment to compose yourself.

"Deep breaths," he instructs. "Seven seconds in, hold it, for just a moment, and then seven seconds out. There. Excellent job."

It's quiet. The sound of sobs and his own heart pounding seem to fade into quiet breaths shared between the both of you.

"Good," he strokes your cheeks with his thumbs. A repetitive, soothing motion. "How do you feel?"

"Guilty," you say. "I didn't mean to ruin your evening."

"You've ruined nothing. You're very important to me, you know. I would never want you to think I'm too busy for you," he offers a smile. "Now, how do you feel?"

You're quiet for a moment, likely mulling over his words. Your voice is softer when you reply. "Tired,"

"Oh... you poor thing. I can't have you dead on your feet tomorrow, now, can I?"

You shake your head.

He stands, pulling you up with him. "Come along, then. Let's get you to bed. I'll help,"

He begins guiding you away from the couch you'd spent the better half of the evening sobbing on. You respond in a quiet voice.

"Vil?"

"Mm? Yes?"

"You promise you won't say anything about this to the others?"

A look of utter softness crosses his face at your request, and he smiles again. "My lips are sealed,"

#twst x reader #twisted wonderland x reader #vil schoenheit x reader #lalala #queued

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usedpidemo · 7 months

Text

More than you know (Nmixx Haewon)

“Miss Haewon, please see me after class hours later. I would like to talk to you.”

There it is. A rather predictable bookend to another dull lecture. She saw it coming from the moment she walked into the classroom.

She absolutely loathes hearing it.

Despite the comically indignant scowl she shoots you on the way out—and the mocking jeers from her friends that elicit embarrassment—by the time the final bell rings, she couldn’t wait to see you later on.

You’re excited, too—but for all the wrong reasons.

She’s the only thing keeping your passion for teaching alive.

—————

For the record, Haewon is not a bad student, not in the slightest. If anything, she’s par for the course. She’s not gonna be some summa cum laude, but she isn’t a sorry case, either. And that’s been the pattern with your students for years. They only care enough just to get by. Haewon is the most clear-cut example you can refer to.

Based on the rather intriguing stares she shoots at you, you’d be tricked into believing she’s actually interested enough in improving her future performance in class. Peeking through the laptop, catching glimpses of everyone’s grades. Her name is highlighted on the document, and the scores consist primarily of mid-eighties with some low-nineties. Clearly she’s nowhere close to a flunk or a future dropout.

Better than the high seventies and low eighties that the rest of your class averages.

“Sir, how many times do we need to go over this. I’m doing well for myself,” she remarks, giving you a look that says I told you so. The evidence is right in front of you, written in bold. “C’mon sir. Just let me go early today.”

And that’s when you make your first of many mistakes—feeding her the attention she craves. Where’s this energy when it comes to your lectures, you wonder?

Before you even entertain the thought, the scene has already gone completely sideways. Here’s a student with zero regard for following rules, and you’ve experienced your fair share of troublemakers. She’s sitting on the desk, pale skin in plain view from the off shoulder cropped sweatshirt that barely qualifies for the dress code. You’re looking—and she’s keenly noticing.

“Maybe another time, sir?” Haewon reads your mind like an open book. She’s purposely dressing improperly for two reasons: to piss off the higher-ups who hate her guts, and to make it easier for you to rip through her clothes. “I’ve got dance practice with the theater girls and I’m running late.”

“Well for one, you can drop the honorifics,” you reply, plainly, in a particularly weak effort to change the conversation. The attention you give her is short-lived; your focus returns to the unanswered emails and grades you need to fill. “Class hours are done for the day.”

It’s evidently not the response she wanted, because her arms are crossed and she’s pouting. You have to admit, she looks cute acting like that, revealing clothes be damned.

“Sir.” Haewon drawls out into a groan, bothered by the monotony of waiting when she has places to be. She won’t go as far as to knock your laptop down, but she’s considering it as a last resort. “You’re being a bitch right now.”

Anyone else in her position would get it—a verbal lashing that would get your teaching license rescinded and take you to court, but Haewon is the epitome of getting away with murder. You have no idea how she does it—how she manages to escape mostly unscathed from punishment. Even now while you drum on the keyboard, because you’re allowing her to call you a bitch without consequence.

Maybe because you like her more than you would openly admit.

She sighs. It’s a defeatist tone. A few moments later, you close your laptop and she perks up.

“Take a seat. I do want to talk to you about something important,” you tell her, knowing one hundred percent certain she’s not getting off your desk.

Haewon can’t help herself to a snarky comment. “Damn. Finally.”

By every conceivable account, this should be awkward, if not outright wrong. She’s still an undergrad, you tell yourself, staring into her sharp, alluring eyes. For as rebellious and as unruly as Haewon acts, she still listens to you. Hell, you’re the only professor she bothers to attend classes regularly for. She’d tell you she cares in her own twisted way. Look at how she dresses, for one. Your thoughts consist of mainly her in some cumbersome position, her lips letting out these desperate, heavy gasps. Your hands squeezing her taut breasts; the way her shirt accentuates the curves of her chest drives your imagination wild. You can spend all day planning how you intend to fuck her—

“Sir, you’re staring again.” A snap back to the present, where she’s grinning and leaning close to your face. So pretty. “I get it—I’m hot, but we’re on borrowed time, sir.”

“Right. I honestly forgot what I was gonna tell you,” you mindlessly drawl, searching through your desk for something. Something to temporarily distract you from the inevitability of the end. The rest of your paperwork lies unattended in the faculty room, you remember, but you’re not gonna step foot inside that place—not when the other professors are still around. Time is money. “But it’s definitely not your grades, that’s for certain.”

“What’s it about, then?” Her eyes continue to follow your every move.

You place a folded sheet of paper between you. She grabs it and reads through the brief content. The response is concerning.

“You’re leaving?” Haewon turns to you, stunned and gobsmacked. A rare expression coming from someone who’s usually indifferent toward everything and everyone.

Genuinely, you have no idea how to explain yourself. You had this all planned out since the beginning of the year; these two semesters will be your last, you were completely certain. You could have told anyone in the faculty. They’re decent people—as decent as they can be during the few times you actually interact with them—but they were merely coworkers and nothing more. You could have told your wife, who just so happens to be a fellow professor and colleague, but she’s one of the reasons why you’re leaving in the first place.

Word spreads like wildfire around campus, so you know to be careful, but this is straight recklessness. You call it mutual trust.

“Been thinking about it for a while,” you say, rather quietly, trying your hardest not to look her way.

“Let me guess,” she says, breaking the pretense of sympathy and concern for her usual caustic tone. “No one cares about your shitty class?”

You’re not remotely bothered by her comment, even if she’s speaking the truth. Though she could have used a nicer word besides shitty. “Part of it, yeah.”

“I seriously don’t understand why there’s gotta be a religious unit for a business degree,” she adds, fascinated by her own question. Even more so than listening to your lectures. “I don’t get it.”

“I don’t get it either.” Truthfully, you seriously question why you’re even teaching here to begin with.

You’re employed by one of the top universities in the country; every parent would sacrifice everything just for their children to study here. It pays well by teaching standards, but the bar is in hell. Despite the prestige, the overall experience is no different than your time in public high school. Most of the students who do attend come from rich backgrounds; people who use the place as a dick measuring contest to see who is the richer person. These entitled scholars who are always on their phone—one of their many phones—and cheat to get ahead.

It happens so often on the regular that you eventually stopped caring.

“Hmm,” Haewon thinks to herself, running through every piece of information she has to weaponize against you. She knows you better than anyone, mainly because you share personal life details like they’re the daily newspaper. Not to mention the very reason she comes to the classroom in the afternoons: you.

Then she comes to a rather off the wall conclusion. “It’s Miss Myoui, isn’t it?”

You squint your eyes. Haewon glints up. A small opening.

After a brief pause, she piles on, smirking. “Did I touch a nerve? Poor you,” she says, shooting you a mocking pout that you mostly ignore. “I guess you haven’t had some good pussy in a while. I mean, there’s no reason for me to be here other than the fact that Miss Myoui isn’t letting you clap her ass. Maybe the rumors are true then—”

Before she continues to spill more information that anyone shouldn’t be allowed to know, you fire back with a sharp glare. She cheekily grins. By ignoring the flashing red light right in front of you, you’re purposefully walking towards your own downfall. It’s a trap; you know this. You know Haewon more than any other student. All her little tricks, all her crafty schemes.

God, you can already see how this is gonna end.

“So I’m right?” Haewon tilts her head, leaning slightly forward. Her smug expression, word choice, and mocking tone tests your patience—including your blood levels—and you’re failing by the minute. “Trouble at home?”

Your response? Nothing. Going word for word with her ultimately results in a losing effort; previous conversations with her leave you more tongue tied and in a rut by the end. Haewon is so natural at getting under people’s skin. It’s what she gets off on—wrapping professors and superiors around her finger with her mouth. And more often than not, she’s charismatic and charming enough that it’s entertaining, but no one wants to openly admit it except you.

It’s how she’s able to read you like an open book. Let personal information slip so seamlessly. The numerous discussions regarding her underperformance in class lead into intimate sessions where you and Haewon become more acquainted with each other. A little too comfortable at times, but you can see where and why she acts the way she does. And you had come to the conclusion that you can’t fix her. Many have tried—and failed. She does whatever she wants, and she’ll end up getting away with it.

You slide your laptop aside, ready to dance with the devil, going against everything you swore against. “Mmm—not quite, but you’re halfway there.”

Haewon smiles and her eyes flutter. Not in a patronizing, condescending way, but the sweet kind. Genuine. The soft side she’ll only let you see. “Miss Myoui not letting you clap, sir?”

“She does,” you say, dour. And I already told you class hours are done. Please don’t call me sir.”

“Right. Sir.” Haewon’s playful tone trails off with that loathsome word. She can’t help but smirk; it’s second nature to her. She’ll claim that you fell for that bait, but that was deliberate, you’ll say—even if she refuses to believe you.

After a brief impasse, “So—sir,” she follows, using her eyebrows and cadence to tease, her hands on the edge of her pants, teasing some underwear, “You need to fuck me again? Now? Is Miss Myoui not letting you have some lately?”

Turning your gaze away and to the desk, “About Mina,” you reply, drumming your fingers on the table, deep in thought, “I’m planning to divorce her soon.”

“Huh?” Her eyes shoot wide, her expression rather surprised at the sudden revelation. You’d think by how she teases you about your wife, she’d have a much more subdued reaction. Considering she knows facets of your rather strange relationship with Mina. “Well, I would tell you’d be fumbling big time, but you should know—”

“She’s cheating on me. I know.”

Now she’s genuinely shocked, completely caught unaware. She’d assume you to be particularly naive and clueless about campus rumblings, especially since she’d never see you outside of the classroom and in the faculty room. “Well damn. I honestly thought you didn’t know.”

“Can’t say it would be the first time I’ve heard about it,” you say, turning to face her again, cold and gloomy. Pointing your finger at her, “And before you say anything, no, I didn’t catch her getting eaten out in the faculty room.”

You say that with the utmost sincerity—and sarcasm.

Haewon hesitates, before answering, rather “I figured.” She understands that your poor eyes have seen some things you shouldn’t be seeing.

Truthfully, you’re amazed she hasn’t brought up the subject a lot earlier. Since the end of the previous academic year, you’ve noticed Mina’s sudden changes in behavior. She’s sending more text messages telling you she’ll arrive home later than usual, the frequent faculty outings she chooses to attend, the cancellation of plans scheduled months in advance—the biggest of which, a dinner date at a particularly expensive five-star restaurant on the other side of town that has a notorious 18 month waitlist that you miraculously booked for your anniversary. And that was five months ago.

People change, but Mina is an entirely different person to you now. You can hardly recognize her.

“I guess I should say I’m sorry for what happened,” Haewon says, pretty modest and empathetic in tone, but even during serious moments, she can’t help but remark, “But you were kind of loser material for a woman like her.”

You can only stare back, annoyed. She chuckles, heartily. Seeing your animated, cartoonish expressions only serves to amuse her even further and fuel her addiction of teasing you.

“Ah, I fucking love you, sir. You’re my favorite professor for this reason.” In an instant, the somber facade falls apart and she’s back to being her usual coy self.

“Among other things?” you question.

“Such as?” Haewon looks confused. It’s a bluff; you’re calling it now. “Such as what, sir?”

Placing a hand on her knee, you’re creating friction so intense that her mouth goes agape and her breaths grow heavier. “Such as the fact that no one eats you out better than I do,” you reply, inflection transitioning from formal to low.

“Oh?” She doesn’t believe what’s happening to you. “Sir,” her cadence dances in such a melodic and sultry way it’s gonna ruin you faster than anything she’s done so far. “You have no evidence to prove—”

Suddenly, Haewon goes tongue tied, unable to finish her sentence. That’s a first. And you didn’t need to lift a finger or use your voice. Your other hand finds solace around her toned waist, exploring her tummy, and it’s thankfully not restricted by any layer of clothing. So much pristine skin to claim as yours, you begin to lose your restraint—and there isn’t much left to begin with.

“I can take you to the faculty room and show you,” you mumble against her belly, the cold breath tickling her flesh that she trembles. Haewon’s senses float off, her vision growing dark as her hands impulsively latch onto your shoulders. In return, you peck her navel, her abs, until you reach her abdomen, a hair’s breadth away from her chest. Between kisses, you continue to feed into her want, “Or I can give you an example right now.”

“Please,” Haewon finds enough clarity to cup your face up and meet her in a lengthy passionate liplock. This is what she wanted from the start. “Indulge me, sir.”

The only thing keeping you two apart is the laptop dangling on the opposite side of the table, almost pushed aside while you were making out. You quickly place it on a random desk before closing the two classroom door curtains.

When you return to Haewon, she’s sitting atop your desk, playfully swinging her legs, smiling modestly. It’s only now that you recognize how pretty she looks. But behind that meek appearance is a demon, a temptress that only sees you as a conduit for pleasure. In her eyes, the only purpose you have to give is sex, and nothing more.

So push your chair forward when you sit down. Haewon’s legs are already spread wide, but the pants remain on them. She doesn’t like to do it herself.

“Won’t give me a cheating discount?” you say, looking up at her coy grin, placing your hands around the hem of her trousers.

“Technically—” she trails off, kissing you, “You’re cheating on her with me, sir.” Followed by another. Each one deeper, more intimate than the last. “Don’t act all innocent now, especially when we’ve been doing this for months.”

Then, Haewon consumes you—as in, devours you. Grabs you and makes out with you with a passion you wish she’d present during class hours. You’d be content to remain in this position for the rest of the day, even if the clothes never come off; he’s so passionate and fervent that it’s intoxicating. But it’s all planned. Elaborate. You’re familiar with her more than you ever want to be: how she loves to unbutton your shirt while kissing you, how she mumbles and hums softly against your mouth, how she whispers desires that end up becoming realized after the foreplay. In reality, she’s the one dictating the pace, the one calling all the shots, and you’re merely an instrument she uses to indulge herself.

And she wants it: everywhere, in every position—something you find too much to handle, and she’s already quite the handful. But it’s merely a delay of the inevitable; you’re going to fuck Haewon, you’re gonna pour all your cum inside her, and you can figure out the rest the morning after.

More often than not, your shirt ends up unbuttoned, but not completely undone. One of two layers keeping your impulsive desires in check. As you work Haewon’s pants down her legs, most of your lesser instincts are shown in full display. It takes almost tearing your own fingers off your very hands not to rip through her panties. Meanwhile, she’s lounging on the desk, enjoying the sight of you reverting back to something primal.

The way you fondle her creamy thighs, never finding their beginning and end, is like beholding a sculpture crafted by the gods. They’re meant to be worshiped, to be handled reverently.

And Haewon guides you through the process, commanding you like she has authority over you. Titles do not matter—they never have. “Keep going,” she says, as you leave delicate kiss marks down her thighs, slowly burying yourself into the inviting presence of her pussy. Peeking through the near-nonexistent layer of fabric, she shifts the lift of her legs, perching on your shoulders as she forces you into her suffocating warmth.

“Show me,” she gasps, brushing your hair with her hand, and that’s what sets the rest into motion.

Her legs clutch you into a breathless hold. God, she’s killing you slowly, and you don’t mind it one bit. At this point, you have nothing to lose. You might as well treat this as your last supper, your final meal before you have to say goodbye. She can strangle you with her thighs while you drag your tongue up and down her folds, suck on her clit, take in all her nectar—it doesn’t change the fact that Haewon is gonna fucking end you.

You might as well repay the favor.

And despite throwing caution to the wind, Haewon appears unprepared. Dazed and confused by the overwhelming sensation burning through her nerves, she trembles—and moans. She couldn’t be any less subtle if she tried; hearing her hit notes you never thought she’s capable of hitting only serves to be a minor distraction from her pulsating heat. You’re relentless, slowly picking away at her senses, at her sensitive cunt, knowing that no one can eat her out as well as you do.

“S-sir.” Haewon can only muster up a single word before her mouth fills the room with nothing but air.

Deep down, you despise the rather obstructive yet comfortable position you’re in. Your tongue brushes against Haewon’s folds, going back and forth to taste of her warmth and her clit. The rest of her frame lays atop the desk, trembling, unable to keep herself steady under your grip. She’s lost you somewhere in between, clinging onto the edges of the table for support. You can only imagine her jaw agape, her expressions twisting in pleasure, wriggling and tossing her head around as she aimlessly tries to find some semblance of control.

Her mouth is the only tool she can use to make some sense of this overwhelming bliss. And even that doesn’t amount to much. ‘Shit,’ ‘so good,’ ‘don’t stop—’ these are only some of the things she groans out as you trap her in a whirlpool of her own ecstasy. It’s still not enough. You want to prove her wrong; you want to remind her what’s important, and the only way you can make sure she truly understands if she fucking cums all over your face.

So while Haewon writhes and makes a damn mess of your desk, you continue to feast on her pretty cunt. She’s making sure every person in the building knows how good your tongue is, and it’s in character with how unabashedly shameless she behaves in front of everyone. Her legs kick sharply against your chair, so you end up where you were supposed to be from the beginning—on your knees. And yet it doesn’t deter you; if anything, you grow more attached to her pussy, savoring every taste and drop, taking piece of every little part of her as yours.

You can’t wait to explore the rest of her body and claim it as yours. On the off chance you’re able to rip her shirt off, your hands roam her tight, lithe figure. You’re met by layers of fabric, frustrated at the inability to grab her breasts in their natural form. She grabs you by the wrists; it’s a miracle she’s able to feel you through the waves crushing her to the desk. You suck on her clit hard. She lets out this guttural moan that sounds violent in nature, like you’re hurting her, when you’re actually doing the exact opposite.

And it’s how you play off each other for the most part. Your need to get Haewon naked is only matched by her desperation to cum. She doesn’t need to tell you directly how much she wants to. Her hands guide you beneath her shirt, and you press on the underside of her boobs in appreciation. You’re playing a dangerous game; you have no intention of letting go.

Surprisingly, Haewon holds up well. One look and it might appear that she’s a complete wreck: how her body trembles unceasingly, how she has half her shirt lifted to give you a better view of her chest for when you eventually come up for air, how helpless she is at even the slightest touch. You made her like this. It’s a habit she’s used to by now; she’s learned that a figure like hers is meant to be admired, to be used.

Before you grow comfortable with the habit, the idea that you can eat her out on the desk for hours, Haewon cums.

She keens and shudders through her surprise orgasm. It’s aligned with her playful nature to cum without your knowing, even though the signs were there all along. Your tongue works through the torrent of fluid, then the wave of slick that you drink up. Lap whatever your satiated bud allows. You can see remnants of her climax spill down the desk and to the floor, to her pants.

Even now, you’re still learning something new about your students. For one, you never knew Haewon squirts.

The wet desk would make for a perfect reference picture for when she questions your legitimacy again—but you have better ways of explaining yourself.

You give Haewon no reprieve; she mewls and whimpers as you lick her folds clean, till you settle into soft, gentle kisses. The situation is all sorts of fucked; she has places to be and friends to meet, but you have her on top of your desk, keening after eating her out and making her cum without a care. It’s gonna take an essay's worth of explaining the glaringly wet patches on her clothes and deep red marks over her skin.

Truthfully, she’d rather be with you than with her overbearing friends—but you won’t hear it directly from her lips.

Speaking of, you hear a phone ring. Haewon cranes her neck in the direction of her bag. “Sir, I need my phone.” She huffs, gasping for air, each word spaced out between deep breaths.

Regretfully, it takes every bit of your resolve to release your tongue from her warm cunt. You rummage through her bag and hand the phone over to her. It’s about picking up the pieces now, salvaging whatever you can make of the mess you made, albeit there’s hardly anything to save, even yourself.

“Don’t.” Haewon uses her loose toes to point at you, shifting herself into a sitting position on the desk. You’re halfway done with the first button on your shirt when she stops you. She’s tapping through her phone, texting some bullshit excuse to her friends. Knowing her, they’re most likely no better than her; they might be playing into your little secret, too. All it takes is one person, one word of mouth, before information spreads around like wildfire.

Like everything else about her, you had mostly left it up to interpretation. Forcing details out of Haewon is a near-impossible task. You were never really a good negotiator. The deal usually ends up like this: her panties for a bonus in her grades, her lips for a signed excuse letter, and if she was really in the mood, her pussy for a cheat sheet. Sometimes,

She sets her phone aside on the desk, hopping off the table to lay her hands on your exposed chest. Momentarily kissing you, she whispers, “Sir, I told them I would be a little late today. You should know better by now.”

Her fingers wring around the collar of your button up shirt, eyes ablaze with reinvigorated lust, lips curled in a pleasant smile. You’re so enamored with her, it drives you crazy. Even when she pushes you onto your chair, even when she rips the already undone shirt off your body, all you can do is pay attention to the stars in her eyes. Her warm, wanton gaze—both charming and alluring in all the right ways. She knows how to use every part of herself to near perfection.

The rest of your clothes couldn’t come off any faster. Your pants and boxers pool around your ankles, followed shortly by a dark cropped sweatshirt. You’re not given any time to savor the perfection that is Haewon’s naked figure; she’s straddled on your lap, stroking your hard cock with a delicate grip. She smirks, and she has every right to look smug. You’re left breathless, under pressure; if only you can see yourself in the mirror and see how needy you look, and the utter control Haewon has over you.

And you allow her; this is her specialty, this is what she’s built for—to fucking end you.

If your words allow you, you’d command her to get on her knees, suck your cock and take a warm load all over her face; this is the ideal position to make the move. But you can’t. Not when you’re missing the point.

Haewon is on the edge of your lap, running her hand around your cock, gathering spurts of precum on her nails and finger pads. She’s still winded from before, slow in her movements. The naughty look she gives your body never grows old.

“I hope you don’t mind if I ask you a question,” she starts, looking down at the little mess she’s making on your thigh. You’re too overwhelmed to breathe, let alone say a word.

“Be honest with me. I’m being serious for once.”

And she sounds like she means it. You gulp your throat as you enter the unknown.

Her eyes flicker up to meet yours, her expression deep in thought, something she’s not usually seen doing. And you feel the heat gradually building on your lap, but you’re paralyzed by anxiety for the sensation to register. She runs the other hand through hair to take a good luck at you: your rather sweaty face, somewhere between pleasure and tense.

“Tell me,” she sighs, running a hand down your shoulder to your elbow, before continuing, “Am I the best student you’ve ever fucked?”

“Yes.” The word comes out involuntarily, as if it were muscle memory. Like your body knows, and it knows itself better than anyone or anything else.

It draws a piqued reaction from Haewon. She raises an eyebrow, unconvinced. “And what about Yoona?”

“And what about her?”

A reply you end up regretting almost immediately. Haewon doesn’t take bullshit for an answer, as evident by the cold, dour stare on her face. If there’s anyone who knows the ins and outs of university, it’s her.

It doesn’t take long for you to cave in. “She’s so tight,” you admit, sounding like a guilty criminal being interrogated. “But you’re still the best, I swear.”

“And what about Yuna? That exchange student Lily? Miss Minatozaki? You say that to just about anyone.”

In an instant, she goes from curious and passionate to downright frightening. It’s not supposed to be like this; normally it’s you who has the authority. Haewon can go on and on for hours if she wanted to. She has all the leverage, all the evidence, all the power to cause the end of everything, your life included. But she only wants one thing: the truth.

“They’re nothing compared to you. Promise. You’re still my favorite student.”

To a certain extent, you’re right; Haewon is your favorite, but for all for the wrong reasons. It has nothing to do with teaching her anything other than being a good toy, because deep down, she’s about as irredeemable as your peers make her out to be. Really, it’s about using her body, fucking her, pushing her to the absolute limits—anything to get your mind out of the numbing, monotonous work of being an actual professor. There are many good girls in class, including the names she mentions in passing, but this is a stark reminder that Haewon is yours, and you belong to Haewon.

“Then show me.”

And to drive the point even further, she sinks down on your lap, pressing her weight on your crotch—until her pussy meets your cock and you both disappear into the sea of pleasure again.

Haewon throws her head back, and she’s never looked more vulnerable, not even when you had her laid out on the desk. All this flesh and body to claim, and you have no clue where to begin. But that’s the least of your problems when she begins to glide up and down, rocking your lap with slow, agonizing thrusts. You end up blanking out and caring about the friction in your hips instead.

The slip of your cock in and out of her pussy when she rides you. Your palms press against her waist while you watch her slowly come undone: the moans, curses, and every sound in between, the rapidly twisting expressions, the hypnotic jiggle of her chest. Soon, you find a steady rhythm to match, and everything becomes effortless. Both of you pushing and pulling against each other’s bodies in an effort to get deeper. You forget you’re a professor and her a student, only two souls in need of sex during some trying times in your lives.

In a way, you’re both meant to be. Fate is a strange entity.

Then Haewon regains some clarity, enough to be kissing you, moaning directly in your ear, demanding your gaze. Even when her hole swallows your cock, she still wants your attention. And even while you have it so deep in her cunt that she’s mewling, struggling for oxygen, she manages to form a coherent sentence.

“Tell me I’m the tightest. Tell me I have the best pussy you ever fucked.”

God, she’s so fucking tight you can’t fully comprehend it. Perhaps even more, and you’re used to using her. Maybe it’s all that pent-up frustration toward your dead end job, toward Mina, that makes her clench tighter. That’s now how pussy works; you’re just stretching her out really hard, but you have nothing sensible to conclude with. What you can tell, however, is that you needed this—and you needed it badly.

You’re thankful you closed off the doors and curtains to the classroom, because the last thing anyone needs to see and hear is the sight of Haewon riding you while you both moan about how good the other feels.

“Love this pussy,” you murmur, breathing against her collarbone, wanting a taste of her taut nipple. She has you in a tight bearhug that binds your hands around her waist. “Fuck—so—fucking—tight—the best—”

And that’s all she needed to hear. Every word—every sound—slips from her lips like it hurts, but she’s in total bliss. She moves her hips against the roll of your cock with deep emphasis, like fitting puzzle pieces together, and it sends you. You’re left even more breathless, more in awe at how fucking well Haewon takes your length. As if it was always meant for her.

Curses and praise aside, she’s never one to talk during sex. But then she makes the faintest comment about how your cock fits so snug inside her, and you honestly just lose it.

Once in a while, a certain inquiry is brought up. What’s your favorite thing about me, Haewon asks, when it’s supposed to be the opposite. You’re supposed to give out this very question to your students as a way to improve your teaching style and maybe come off as an approachable authority figure. As expected, it wasn’t helpful in the slightest. She then would suddenly come to you at the most random of times with this particular question, and you’d be preoccupied with numerous things—home life, school activities, the usual—to find an answer.

But right there, right as you spear deep into her tight, needy cunt, is where you figure it all out. It’s all in the little details. Your hand going up and down her arched back. The squelching of her pussy against your cock. The furious sound of your flesh slapping against hers. Her loose, shrilly whines while you bury your face between her chest, begging you harder. Her hands tangled with your hair and nape. All that while she’s bouncing on your lap at such a feverish pace; she’s going to break the chair you’re sitting on.

Before you know it, your tongue has traveled all over the most sensitive parts of her body: nipples, neck, and even pits.

Everything about Haewon is so ridiculous, you can’t believe how much of a challenge she has been for the longest time that you’ve forgotten how easily she folds. Like she’s meant to be used.

But no punishment is suitable enough; no amount of discipline can change her. If anything, it only fuels her goal to thread the needle even further.

“Gonna fucking cum, Haewon,” you hiss against her ear, blurring the line between kissing and biting her collarbone. Using all the strength in your hips, you have her legs spread as wide as they can over the chair, over your thighs. The squirt she releases as she crashes on your lap serves to fan the flames in your cock even brighter. It’s all but inevitable that you’ll pour it all inside her, and she wouldn’t want it any other way.

If you had any semblance of a spine, you’d never let her hear the end of it. The idea that her pussy isn’t getting its fair share of seed disgusts her. She needs to learn what boundaries are, and how not to cross said lines. At least there’s one lesson you can impart on her before you split, but you’ll save that for another day, because you cum.

You fuck Haewon so hard, she turns into mush that melts in your grasp. Forget the guttural groan you made; the aftermath is alarming. Her pussy drips with a huge load pooling on the chair and trickling down her thighs. You make sure you bury yourself to the hilt and unload inside her. The evidence is undeniable; from the smell to the sight of clothes and cum, there’s no concealing it—if there was even anything to hide, because your salacious activity could easily be heard anywhere in the building.

And lost in the madness is your train of thought; your body is reeling from the aftershocks of your orgasm, and you simply idle. Let your cock stay in Haewon’s warmth as long as possible. Let the setting sun bathe her pretty face in that lovely afterglow. Let her slowly recover and realize that you’ve been right all along about everything.

“Sir, you came inside me a lot,” she says, a little over a whisper, trying to take record of your work. Her eyes stay glued to the puddle of cum dripping down her leg, running a finger to taste you.

“For my favorite student, why wouldn’t I,” you tell her, caressing your hand up and down her back. Even through the climax, you never stopped.

The brief, peaceful respite is interrupted by, you guessed it, another phone. This time, it’s not Haewon’s. She moves gingerly bending down, almost tumbling over in an attempt to retrieve your phone from the depths of your pocket. Your only contribution is ensuring she doesn’t bash her head on the floor.

“Well, well, well,” she comments, looking at your phone with a familiar, sarcastic tone before handing it over to you. “Speak of the devil.”

On the screen are two missed calls and one new text, all from none other than Mina herself. A grim reminder of the reality you live in.

The message is as predictable as it reads. She won’t be home till late in the evening, which might as well be dawn of the next day.

“Miss Myoui is getting it. A hundred percent sure.”

She delivers it with such conviction that it might as well be fact. You’d be upset about the very thought—anyone would—but a glance at Haewon gives you an idea. One that leaves her curious.

“Sir? Why are you looking at me like that?”

You can already imagine it: the image of railing Haewon everywhere. On the table, against the wall, under the showers. Maybe if you’re lucky enough, Mina will go through that door and be greeted by the sight of her least favorite student getting fucked by her husband from behind.

You show her the text, and just like that, you’re both one and the same. A look of pride crosses her face, as if she’s accomplished an important milestone—and it’s quite a momentous one.

And what better way to celebrate than inside the comfort of your home.

—————

(A/N: Been down bad for Haewon since December. Also, NMIXX is actually good now! Their latest EP has some bangers, highly recommend Run for Roses and Passionfruit. The setting might be a bit more on the bleaker/less wholesome side, but I hope it's not uncomfortable/upsetting. Thank you for reading!)

#smut #kpop smut #nmixx #haewon

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rafeandonlyrafe · 11 months

Text

clingy

words: 1k

warnings: 18+ only, smut, clingy reader, unprotected sex, semi public sex, caught

“where are you going rafey?” you pout, grabbing onto his hand as he gets up from the couch you were chilling on.

“shh, it’s okay baby.” rafe laughs gently as you stand up to follow him. “i’m just going to the bathroom.”

“can i come with you?” you ask, giving him your best puppy dog eyes. you really don’t want to be alone at this party.

“of course, honey.” rafe wraps his arm around your shoulders, leading you through the crowd. “can’t be away from me for even a minute?”

“nope.” you shake your head no. “need you always.”

rafe opens the door to the bathroom, checking there’s no one doing lines or fucking in the bathtub before leading you in. “i know, baby, i need you always too.” he picks you up so you can sit on the sink counter, giving you a deep kiss.

you pull your knees up to your chest, leaning your head against the mirror as rafe pees, not shy in the slightest with you watching him, used to having you near at all times.

“it doesn’t bother you?” you ask rafe as he zips his pants back up.

“what doesn’t bother me?” rafe asks as you scooch over so he can wash his hands without getting any droplets of water on your dress.

“that i’m so clingy.” you pout.

rafe lets out a laugh. “clingy? baby, if anything i want you around me more. you will never be too clingy.” rafe dries his hands before grabbing your waist, pulling you to the edge and giving the tip of your nose a kiss.

“you sure?” you ask, wrapping your legs around his hips.

“of course i’m sure. i love you, pumpkin.”

“i love you too, daddy.” you whisper, leaning forward and burying your head in his neck, feeling shy. “i want you.”

“of course you do.” rafe’s hands glide down your back to your ass. “you always want me, huh? always need your rafey?” “mhm.” you lower your hands to his pants, rubbing over his cock.

“we’ll have to be quick.” rafe says, “and quiet.”

“do we reaaally?” you giggle, unbuttoning and unzipping his pants, pulling his cock out.

“yes, silly baby.” rafe rolls his eyes. “we are at a party.”

“everyone hooks up at parties!” you exclaim, fisting your hand around his cock and jerking it, wanting him to get hard quickly so you can feel him inside of you.

“don’t use that tone with me.” rafe warns, pushing your already high cut dress up, looking down to see you don’t have underwear on. you let go of his cock, knowing you’ll need to hold on the counter to brace yourself for whats coming next.

“my little slut.” rafe shakes his head. “did you know this would happen?” he presses a finger against your entrance, “did you plan this when you asked to come to the bathroom with me?” he shoves it inside, immediately pulling out and pushing in again, starting to thrust.

“i didn’t plan it,” you gasp out and squeeze your eyes shut as rafe quirks his finger to press against your sweet spot, “i wanted it though.”

rafe chuckles, adding another finger in, needing to open you up quickly and get his cock inside of you. rafe rubs his thumb over your clit, giving you a kiss to silent your moans.

“fuck me, daddy.” you pull away from the kiss, grabbing his cock and lining it up with your entrance.

“i don’t have a condom.” rafe says, looking around the bathroom like he could find one in here.

“i wouldn’t want you to use it anyways.” you say, “need your cum in me.”

“yeah?” rafe laughs, grabbing your ass and sliding you to the edge of the counter, pushing his cock inside of you.

you let out a quiet moan, a shiver moving through your body. rafe begins to thrust his hips forward, keeping you from falling backwards with his hands gripping your ass.

“feels so good.” you whine, gripping the counter with one hand and wrapping your free arm around rafe’s shoulders.

“this close enough for you now?” rafe asks with a laugh.

you nod, nuzzling your nose into his neck. you’ve been craving rafe all day and this really is exactly what you needed.

rafe moves quicker than normal, chasing your lips to kiss you. there’s a sudden knock on the door, making you jump and clench your cunt around rafe, but he forces his movements anyways.

“occupied!” rafe shouts back.

“are you fucking in there?” the man shouts back, but you can hear his footsteps move down the hall.

“told you to be quiet.” rafe says, angling his hips so he hits the spot inside of you that has your eyes rolling back in your head.

“can’t help it that you’re so big, daddy.” you say, unbuttoning a few of the buttons of his shirt, grabbing his collar and pulling him into a heavy kiss.

“don’t wrinkle the shirt.” rafe says quickly, but then rejoins the kiss.

you roll your eyes, but rafe doesn’t miss it, giving you a particularly hard thrust and then grinding his hips, making you wince as the pleasure is almost overwhelming.

“rub your pretty pussy for me.” rafe says, and you quickly drop a hand to your clit, using two fingers to rub in time with rafes thrusts.

“you’re going to cum for me.” rafe demands, knowing he can’t last much longer himself.

“yes, daddy.” you nod, rubbing faster, feeling rafes cock pulse inside of you.

rafe presses your lips together to cover your moans somewhat as your orgasm overtakes your body. feeling your cunt pulse around him, rafe spills inside of you.

“fuck, you feel so fucking good.” rafe says, giving you a couple final thrusts as he your cunt milks him.

“i love you.” you coo, a tear escaping your eye as you feel yourself shake, knowing rafe needs a couple finishing thrusts, but you’re so overly sensitive from your orgasm.

“i love you too.” rafe kisses you. “so good for me honey.” he pulls out slowly, letting his cum spill out onto the counter. you cringe at knowing this is someone elses sink, so as rafe fixes his clothing, you hop off the counter and clean it up quickly.

“now you’re leaking out of me and i don’t have panties.” you pout.

rafe chuckles, knowing that this is exactly what you wanted. “i guess we will just have to go home then.”

#reupload!#rafe fic #rafe fanfic #rafe fanfiction #rafe x reader #rafe imagine #rafe blurb #rafe drabble #rafe one shot #rafe smut #rafe cameron fic #rafe cameron fanfic #rafe cameron fanfiction #rafe cameron x reader #rafe cameron imagine #rafe cameron one shot #rafe cameron smut #obx smut #outer banks smut

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orionremastered · 9 months

Text

Damian Wayne x Paramedic!Reader

Soulmate AU

Part One, Part Two, Part Three (finale)

The ache in your chest had been there for a week now, and it was becoming your new best friend. Coincidentally, the first and only time you talked to your soulmate was also a week ago.

You hadn’t expected it at first, and you even asked Harper to check if you were going to have a heart attack in the back of the ambulance during a meal break.

As you figured, nothing was wrong.

So after a long night shift, a shower and dinner for breakfast, you were almost, and by almost I mean seconds away from falling asleep.

A knock at the door snaps your eyes open and with a grumble, you get out of bed and get yourself into more appropriate clothing than sleepwear.

“I’m going to kill whoever's at the door,” you grumble, glaring through the peephole before you opened the door.

This was Gotham, and you weren’t stupid.

It wasn’t the Ridddler or the Joker, but rather your soulmate. Standing in a black jacket with the hood over his head, waiting patiently in the middle of the hallway.

Unlocking the door and pushing it open, you narrow your eyes at the tall and no doubt muscular figure.

“How the fuck do you know where I live?”

“Hello,” he greets, walking past you and into your apartment, gazing at it like he’s on a sightseeing tour. With a grumble, you close the door behind him and lock it again.

“What do you want?” The ache in your chest was gone but your heart craved even the slightest touch, begging you and pulling you towards him. Your other half.

“I want to talk,” Damian admits after a short pause, hanging his jacket on the hook by the door. “Something you apparently don’t want to do.”

“How are you feeling?”

“It’s been a week, habibi,” he points out, raising a dark eyebrow. “Don’t try and change the subject.”

“What does habibi mean?”

Your apartment goes silent before finally, Damian sighs. “I’m certain you’ll figure it out eventually. Now, we’re going to talk about this without you trying to change the subject-”

“I’m pretty sure I’ve made my stance on this very clear,” you state, lightly emphasizing each word in order for it to sink in. “I cannot have publicity if I want to be able to do my job.”

Being a paramedic was the biggest achievement of your life- a ‘fuck you’ to your parents, an amazing work partner, a fulfilling life- the pay didn’t matter much to you, and that’s what your parents hated.

“That’s fine. You don’t have to go to galas or anything similar.” His tone changes, “But you can’t just give up an entire relationship-”

“I don’t think you understand just how public of a figure you are,” you interrupt. “You could’ve been followed here by paparazzi- they follow you everywhere. I can’t be walking on eggshells whenever I want to go outside with you.”

“I wasn’t followed,” he says with a frown. “And… that is a valid point.” His jaw clenches, unclenches and finally he sighs his thoughts into the air. “What if we just try? This is all theory but in practice we might be able to pull it off.”

“That’s a lot of stress for someone that already has a high-stress job.”

Damian’s head snaps towards you, a grin slowly forming on his face. “There’s something I need to tell you.”

He explained it all. You kept thinking that was it but no, he kept going. The gist is; he was an assassin, then Robin, now Batman.

It created more problems than solutions but you were somewhat willing to hear him out. It was almost midday now and you were exhausted.

“And your plan is what, exactly?”

“You don’t date me, you date Batman. He’s a ‘public’ figure but he’s a different kind of public than a Wayne.”

You didn’t think it was a bad idea, much to your surprise. It could work, and perhaps not just as a temporary fix.

Your heart was screaming at you by now, kicking and shouting for you to just give in.

“That sounds doable.”

A smile, genuine and bright and rare, breaks out onto Damian’s face. He wraps his strong arms around you, pulls you close and is finally able to kiss you lightly on the forehead before resting his head on yours.

You were soaring in warmth and joy and you were finally here, where you needed to be. You could make this work. You will make this work.

And for the first time as you stand in your soulmate’s arms, you want to make this work.

~~~

Masterlist

#damian wayne x reader #batfamily #batfam #x reader #batfamily x reader

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twstowo · 8 days

Note

Oyo, um I read one of your fics and it was rlly good. I'm pretty sure it was one of the 'they end up another universe twst' fics. They're rlly juicy BTW

I was thinking like...what happened if otherverse bois met normalverse yuu and they actually start liking them? Sorta yandere-ish type stuff to the point where they don't wanna leave normalverse yuu? (Yes, I've been calling normal yuu 'normalverse' yuu bc it makes a bit of sense lmao)

Understandable if you're a bit uncomfy with this :)

❤️❤️❤️❤️❤️

♡︎This is quite an interesting idea! I had though about it once but since you asked now I'm really going to write it! Also I'm not the best with yandere themes so I hope this is good enough!

♡︎Includes: OB! Characters

♡︎Warning: Malleus's part made me kinda sad, IM SO SORRY MALLEUS LOVERS. Also all of them need therapy.

[AU Masterlist]

NV - Normalverse (Thank you for the idea Anon!)

First things first, in general, I believe that they would understand that you aren’t the same person from their Universe, however, this wouldn’t excuse the fact that every time they see your face they are thrown back to your relationship back in their world, which to say the least is not the best.

⋆⋅☆Riddle

There would be no doubt that he would dislike you intensely. Moreover, the fact that this Riddle would be even worse than the pre-overblot Riddle in the NV would put you in a difficult position.

The first time he spots you, he would be blinded by rage and probably try to behead you. Fortunately, Trey and Cater quickly save you, taking you as far away as possible from Tyrant Riddle.

He will do anything to find you, and he will have no tolerance for your actions. At the slightest inconvenience you cause, he will be right behind you, ready to tell you how much of an annoyance you are.

But you catch on to his game pretty quickly, so you counter him by being the very definition of perfection. You make sure not to break a single rule and set an example for everyone around you, and by the Sevens, that only makes him even angrier.

But is he really angry? He can’t deny that he feels slightly impressed. Among everyone else at this strange college, you are the only one who comes close to reaching the level of perfection he demands.

Slowly, he finds himself growing fonder of you. He starts thinking about bringing you back with him once he finds a way to return to his universe. You’d fit perfectly in the castle with him, and he’s certain his mother would have approved of you.

⋆⋅☆Leona

When it comes to Leona, he is more annoyed with the NV version of you than anything else. After all, you were always pestering him about being lazy and irresponsible. He had been plotting to have you exiled once he took the throne by killing his brother.

So, the first time he spots you, he's ready to turn around and leave, not wanting to hear your nagging. But that doesn’t happen. You speak to him as if he were a normal person, with no harsh words, and even smile at him when you finish talking.

Is he seeing things? Why are you so different in this universe? And why is he enjoying this new kind of attention so much?

Yet, he remains rude, constantly sending glares your way. He firmly believes you're trying to trick him into something malicious.

Still, you bring him lunch and talk about your day. You are strangely kind, something he never thought he would experience, especially from you. You are the first person ever to treat him like this.

Slowly, something starts to shift inside him. Your attention becomes something he craves, and he starts becoming obsessed, to the point where he checks if you give the same treatment to others.

And if you do, he makes sure they are out of the picture the next time you look for them. He will ensure that you have only him to turn to, to talk about your day, and to give your full attention.

⋆⋅☆Azul

OH NO! He’s had enough of your antics ruining his business! Azul puts up a sign with your face and a red cross over it in front of the Monster Lounge. YOU ARE NOT ALLOWED IN!

Floyd and Jade find this absolutely hilarious and watch as you stroll into the Monster Lounge without a care in the world. (You’re literally that meme: "This sign won’t stop me, because I can’t read.") They don’t even try to stop you, they’re far too entertained by the thought of seeing how this new Azul will react to the chaos.

Let’s just say that Azul quickly learns the hard way that you aren’t here to ruin his business. Instead, you seem determined to ruin his reputation by being overly affectionate and making him squirm with your sweet words in front of all his clients, no less.

He tries to distance himself, avoiding your gaze and setting boundaries, but you keep coming back. In that, you remind him of the version of you from his own universe.

And for some reason, he finds that persistence very attractive. He can’t deny that, before you decided to ruin his business, he used to have a slight crush on you back then.

But now, you aren’t trying to ruin his business. Quite the contrary, you’re a magnet for attention, constantly drawing more customers to the Mostro Lounge.

Slowly, Azul starts losing himself in this fantasy: you and him, together, expanding his business. But at a certain point, he realizes he’s thinking more about you than the money the two of you could make.

He becomes determined to keep you by his side, even if his business suffers because of it. If all it takes to have you is tarnishing a bit of his reputation, then he’s willing to do it.

⋆⋅☆Jamil

By the Seven, he was already annoyed that Kalim was here, but you too? This was about to be the worst day of his life, two incredibly annoying people threatening to ruin his plans.

He keeps his distance, but when you spot him, he’s about to tell you to go find someone else to bother. Then, you say something completely unexpected: you’re actually annoyed by Kalim’s antics.

You? Annoyed? At Kalim?

He’s taken aback. In his universe, you and Kalim were inseparable friends, always together. But the you from this place is actually bothered by him? He doesn’t even need to know why you’re annoyed. Just the fact that someone finally agrees with him about Kalim makes him incredibly happy.

He enjoys it when you come to him with your frustrations. Whether you’re irritated by Kalim’s constant gifts or his endless parties in your honor, because you feel overwhelmed, Jamil is always there to listen. He savors your complaints, and he’s quick to add his own criticisms about Kalim, which only deepens your dislike for him.

As time goes on, you start finding comfort in Jamil’s presence. His understanding and validation make him seem like a refuge from the chaos that Kalim brings. You begin to rely on him more, and Jamil can’t help but enjoy how your dislike for Kalim boosts his own ego.

Jamil starts subtly shaping your view of Kalim. By reinforcing your negative feelings and positioning himself as your only true ally, he ensures that you depend on him more. He carefully creates situations where he appears better compared to Kalim, making himself seem like the perfect match for you.

Jamil feeds off your growing dislike for Kalim. Your negative feelings towards Kalim seem to boost his ego, and he finds himself loving your voice even more.

You deserve someone who truly understands you, and Jamil believes he’s that person. He’s confident that he’d be the perfect match for you.

⋆⋅☆Vil

There you are, Neige’s number one fan. He doesn’t even look in your direction, you aren’t worth it. Shouldn’t you be with him, guarding him like the lapdog you are?

Vil has to admit that at least you seem more elegant here. You look more relaxed and gentle, but maybe you were always like that back then. Perhaps he was just too focused on Neige to notice you.

Or maybe this version of you from this universe is simply sweeter and kinder. Perhaps here, you don’t make Neige your whole identity and actually treat Vil like a person rather than just competition for Neige.

Vil is intrigued, he finds you interesting, even. There’s a charm to you that brings him comfort. When he learns that you’re not that close to Neige here, he finds himself feeling pleased. And when you tell him that you find him “oh so much more beautiful,” he realizes that you might not be so bad after all.

Then he becomes attentive to your habits, your likes and dislikes, he memorizes every time you express any small detail about yourself only to use these as a way to create more opportunities to be closer to you. He brings up things you’ve mentioned in passing, showing how attentive he is to your likes and dislikes. His compliments become more personal, always tied to something he knows you value.

He loves especially when you talk so sweetly about him, or when he overhears you telling others how beautiful you think he is.

So whenever you mention Neige in a good way he becomes jealous, you should be exclusively devoted to him, he should be the only thing that crosses your mind and he was to make sure you only see him as your number one option.

He’s determined to make you see him as your everything, and he’ll stop at nothing to ensure that you’re his, completely and utterly.

⋆⋅☆Idia

(In here both Idia and Ortho from the AU get sent to the NV.)

Ah yes, the ruiner of fun, you.

Back in his world, he used to send his followers to pester you, hoping you'd leave him alone. But no matter what, you always managed to bounce back and ruin his mischievous plans. What was with you, always messing with the fun? If a person or two died, who would even care?

But this version of you seems so much more into the chaos. He watches as you join in Ace's dumb ideas or get excited when Ortho prepares to blast off half the school.

You actually seem like someone who would join in his schemes now, and he'd love to have some help.

Howver the idea of you laughing, scheming, or enjoying yourself with anyone else starts to eat away at him. He starts sabotaging your interactions with others, asking for Ortho’s help to keep Ace busy with other things, making sure you spend more time with him.

He starts sending Ortho on missions to monitor your every move, always keeping tabs on who you’re with and what you’re doing. If anyone tries to get too close to you, they mysteriously vanish from the scene, often without you even noticing.

Everything feels so perfect when the two of you are together, you don’t need anyone else just like he doesn’t need anyone else.

⋆⋅☆Malleus

Poor Malleus had been treated badly by his crush back in his universe. You never answered the letters he sent, and he had heard that all the little trinkets and flowers were returned because you didn’t want any of them.

So when this version of you from this strange new place treats him with such devotion, such kindness, and accepts his small gifts, even inviting him to spend time with you, he can hardly believe what’s happening.

This was essentially a dream come true for him. He wonders if it had been you he sent all those letters to, whether you would have written him back with the same excitement.

Why, then, hadn’t this lovely and perfect version of you been the one in his universe? Why was he the one left unloved in his world?

He wants to take you with him. Surely, you love him, you wouldn’t be angry if he took you back to his castle. The two of you could finally do all the things he had dreamed about while gazing lovingly at the flowers he once sent you.

After all, why else would you shower him with such kindness? Why else would you invite him to spend time with you? You must love him too.

#twst #twisted wonderland #disney twst #twst wonderland #disney twisted wonderland #twisted wonderland x reader #twst reader #twst x reader #x reader #riddle x reader #riddle rosehearts #riddle rosehearts x reader

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highinmiamiii · 21 days

Text

MONEY POWER GLORY

club owner!joe kessler x exotic dancer

A/N: this piece goes hand in hand with @billybutcherxyou / @foxiewrites and I’s DBF!Butcher series. best to be read alongside their most recent post, so make sure to check that out first. (cw: themes of manipulation, power dynamics, implied threats, and mentions of the adult entertainment industry.) NO USE OF Y/N

summary: Kessler, the sleazy owner of Club Kess, where petal works, dangles promises of fame and fortune, but his intentions are far from pure. Highlighting petal’s willingness to play his game, even as she’s fully aware of the dangers that come with it.

—————

She walks into the dimly lit office at the back of the club, the heavy bass from the music outside thrumming through the walls. Kessler, the club’s owner, sits behind an oversized mahogany desk, a fine Cuban cigar smoldering between his fingers. The air is thick with the scent of smoke and the faint tang of his expensive cologne. His eyes, sharp and calculating, follow her as she approaches, amusement flickering in them.

“Ah, there she is,” Kessler purrs, his voice smooth like honey with an underlying edge that makes your skin crawl if you listen too closely. He leans back in his chair, a smirk tugging at the corner of his lips as he gestures for her to sit. “My favorite girl.”

She offers him a small, confident smile, though there’s a tightness in her chest she can’t quite shake. She’s been working for him for some time now, just barely making enough to have a little extra cash after repaying her father’s debts and getting out of every negative situation. Billy still couldn’t seem to get off her ass. She’s good at what she does, and she’s determined to be more than just another one of Kessler’s showgirls.

Once she had even the slightest taste of financial freedom to splurge on a cute top or take herself out to lunch somewhere nice, she’d never go back to her old life. Her life had been full of losses, wins, failures, and falls.

Kessler’s gaze never wavers as she takes her seat across from him, the leather chair creaking slightly under her weight. He exhales a long plume of smoke, watching her with that same calculated amusement, like a cat playing with a mouse.

“I’ve been watching you,” Kessler continues, his eyes narrowing as he takes a drag from his cigar, the smoke curling around his face like a serpent. “You’ve got something… special. A spark, if you will.”

“You’ve been doing good work, sweetheart,” he says, the endearment slipping from his lips like it’s second nature. His voice carries a certain weight, commanding attention, respect, and maybe even a little fear. “Better than most of the girls who walk through that door.”

Her smile widens just a fraction; the words hit their mark. She’s been craving validation like this—something to tell her that all the hours, the effort, the sacrifices are worth it. The faint praise settles into her bones, stoking the fire she keeps burning inside.

“Well, I aim to please,” she replies smoothly, her voice laced with just the right amount of sultriness. She knows how to play her part, knows what Kessler wants to hear. And she’s more than willing to give it to him if it means getting what she wants in return.

Kessler’s smirk deepens, his eyes glittering with something dark, something dangerous. “That’s why you’re my favorite, baby,” he purrs, leaning forward slightly, his gaze locking onto hers with predatory intensity. “You’ve got the looks, the talent, the drive. Everything a girl needs to make it big. And I’m gonna make sure you do.”

She feels a thrill of anticipation run through her at his words. She’s been chasing this dream for as long as she can remember—the idea of being more than just another face in the crowd, of standing out, of having everything she’s ever wanted. Money, power, glory. The trifecta that’s kept her going through every hardship, every setback.

“A-anything, Mr. Kessler,” she says, her voice almost a whisper, leaning in slightly as if she’s afraid to miss a single word. “Tell me what I need to do.”

Kessler’s smile is almost fatherly as he leans back in his chair, taking another drag from his cigar. He likes this part—the moment they’re fully under his spell, ready to do whatever it takes to make his promises come true. He’s seen it a hundred times before, but there’s something about her that makes it all the more satisfying.

“It’s simple, really,” he says, his tone almost conspiratorial. “You just keep doing what you’re doing, baby—keep turning heads, keep bringing in the crowds. Make them want more of you, make them crave you. And when the time is right, when you’re ready, we’ll take that next step.”

He pauses, letting the words sink in, watching as her eyes widen just a fraction, her breath catching slightly in her throat. He’s got her, and he knows it.

“What next step?” she asks, her voice hushed, almost afraid of the answer.

Kessler’s smirk returns, sharper this time. “Movies, baby. Real stardom. You’ve got a face for the camera, and I’m gonna make sure you get there. But you have to trust me, follow my lead. Do that, and you’ll have everything that pretty little heart o’ yours desires.”

She bites her lower lip, a move she knows he finds irresistible, playing into the moment. It’s all she’s ever wanted to hear—the promise of something more, something bigger than the life she’s been living. Dealing with her asshole of a father and his gambling debts, instead of living the life of a normal girl her age, she was working the pole at Club Kess. She’s come too far to turn back now, and Kessler knows that. He’s got her wrapped around his finger, and she can’t even bring herself to care.

“I trust you,” she says, the words coming out easily, as if they were always meant to be spoken. “I’m a big girl, I can take it,” she adds cheekily.

Kessler chuckles, a low, dark sound that sends a shiver down her spine. He reaches out, brushing a thumb across her cheek, the touch as possessive as it is comforting.

“That’s my girl,” he murmurs, his voice rich with satisfaction. “Stick with me, baby, and I’ll make sure the whole world knows your name.”

She feels her heart pound with a mix of fear and excitement. She’s heard the rumors, knows what happens to the girls who fall out of Kessler’s favor, but she’s convinced it won’t happen to her. She’s different. She has to be.

He leans forward, resting his elbows on the desk, his gaze locking onto hers with predatory intensity. “You want more than just the dance floor. You want to be a star.”

The word hangs in the air between them, heavy with unspoken promises. She can feel the pull, the allure of everything she’s ever wanted, dangling just out of reach. But there’s a part of her, the smart part, that knows there’s always a catch when someone like Kessler is involved.

“I do,” she admits, keeping her voice soft, almost vulnerable, knowing that’s what he’s looking for. “But I know it’s not easy. I’m willing to work for it.”

Kessler’s grin widens, and for a moment, she can see the wolf behind the businessman. “That’s what I like to hear, sweetheart,” he says, his tone oozing with false sincerity. “You’re different. I see big things in your future. Movies, magazine covers, hell, maybe even your own show one day.”

The flattery is relentless, and she finds herself nodding along, even as a small voice in the back of her mind tells her not to fall for it. But it’s hard not to, especially when he leans in closer, his voice dropping to a conspiratorial whisper.

The words are intoxicating, and for a moment, she lets herself believe them. But then Kessler’s gaze hardens, just for a split second, and she catches a glimpse of the man behind the mask—the one who’s willing to destroy anyone who doesn’t play by his rules.

“But remember,” he adds, his tone shifting to something colder, more menacing, “this business is tough. It chews up the weak and spits them out. You keep up your end of the bargain, and I’ll keep up mine. But cross me… and, well, I’m sure you know what happens to girls who get on my bad side.”

She forces herself to smile, to play along with his game. “I won’t disappoint you, I promise,” she says, her voice smooth as silk, hiding the unease coiling in her gut.

“Good girl,” he replies, the smirk returning as he leans back in his chair, satisfied. “Now, go out there and show them what you’re made of. Got big plans for you.”

She nods, offering him one last smile before she turns.

As she’s about to leave, Kessler’s voice cuts through the lingering haze of cigar smoke. “Actually—hold on a sec, baby,” he drawls, his tone smooth but with an edge that halts her in her tracks. She looks over her shoulder, raising an eyebrow in silent question.

Kessler reaches into his desk drawer and pulls out an old Polaroid camera, the kind that spits out instant photos with a soft mechanical whirr. He holds it up, a sly grin spreading across his face. “One more thing before you go. Gotta get a picture to go with the others, yeah? Keeps things personal, keeps us close.”

She hesitates for a moment, feeling a strange twist in her gut. This wasn’t part of the usual routine, but then again, Kessler always liked to blur the lines. “A Polaroid?” she asks, forcing a light tone, though she can’t keep the edge of suspicion out of her voice.

Kessler chuckles, but it’s a low, menacing sound that sends a shiver down her spine. “Just for the collection,” he says, as if that explains everything. “A little keepsake for me. Nothing to worry your pretty little head about.”

The unease deepens, but she can see the challenge in his eyes, the unspoken command. He wants her to trust him, to play along. And if she refuses, if she makes a scene, she knows what that might mean for her future here.

So, she swallows her discomfort and flashes him her best smile, the one she reserves for customers she’s trying to impress. “Of course, Mr. Kessler,” she says sweetly, stepping closer to the desk.

Kessler’s grin widens as he raises the camera, the lens glinting in the dim light. “Say cheese, darling.”

She hears the click, followed by the whir of the camera spitting out the photo. Kessler catches it before it hits the desk, holding it by the edges as the image slowly develops.

She forces herself to stay calm, to keep that practiced smile in place, even as Kessler’s gaze flicks between her and the photo with a predatory glint. “Beautiful,” he murmurs, more to himself than to her, before he slips the photo into his desk drawer, locking it away.

“Alright, baby,” he says, his tone returning to that of the smooth-talking club owner. “You go on now. Remember, I’m watching.”

She nods, mutters a soft “thank you,” and finally makes her exit, feeling the weight of his gaze on her until she’s out the door. As she steps back into the dimly lit hallway, the thumping bass from the club outside washing over her like a wave, she can’t shake the feeling that she’s just crossed some invisible line, one she might not be able to step back from.

But she pushes the thought aside. This is what she wanted—what she needed. If playing Kessler’s game was the price she had to pay for her shot at fame and fortune, then so be it. She’d play, and she’d win.

Because she knew one thing for sure: in this world, you either play the game or get played. And she wasn’t about to let herself become just another one of Kessler’s pawns.

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springtyme · 1 year

Note

Hiii can we get some dating Richie headcanons :)

𝐃𝐚𝐭𝐢𝐧𝐠 𝐑𝐢𝐜𝐡𝐢𝐞 𝐉𝐞𝐫𝐢𝐦𝐨𝐯𝐢𝐜𝐡 ♡

We certainly can! Thank you for the request, I love this disaster of a man so much! I had so much fun with this and I'm so excited for season two 💕 I also couldn't contain myself and made a Richie playlist

word count: 1.4k

Richie had almost given up on love before he met you. Almost.

After a series of failed dates and a couple of meaningless hookups it had seemed to him like love just wasn’t in the cards for him anymore. But then you had come along to prove him wrong.

Despite how he might come off to some, Richie is definitely a lover boy. Putting himself ‘out there’ after his split with Tiff had been hard, but he knew that he deep down, in the essential core of his being, desperately craved to have someone to share his life with.

Someone to come home to and share the little moments with. Someone to rant to about how Carmy had been acting like little bitch about the new dishtowels, or how another building downtown has been torn down to be turned into another fucking nightmarish cement parking house. Someone who he could have a laugh with and who would give him a chance to rise above the label of deadbeat loser that the universe seems to have put on him. Someone who could see him for who he truly is. Someone who wouldn’t judge him or think less of him for having sold a little coke from a back alley in a desperate situation.

Richie will do anything for the people he cares for, so what if his methods are a little unorthodox? He is loyal to the bone and he cares, he fucking cares.

And that is all he wants, someone to care for. Someone to love and someone to love him. That was all that he dreamed of before, but he had started to lose hope.

But then, when he finally had started to come to terms with the idea that that might never happen, he met you.

It had all started with a slightly awkward date. He had been quite nervous, way more than he normally was. You just seemed too good to be true, way too good for someone like him anyway. He wanted to give off a good impression so bad that it slightly backfired, or it maybe would have backfired if you weren't you.

He had been loud and acting confident in a way only a man who’s trying to hide how nervous he actually is can. He had been accidently laughing at his own jokes before the punchline had even landed and stumbling over his own words from time to time, but luckily for him you had found it rather charming. You couldn’t keep the wide smile from spreading on your face as he started rambling about Bill Murray and some old roman goddess.

He had visibly relaxed after you had declared with a smile that you probably had to give him a call one of these days so you could hear the voicemail from the story, but that you certainly wouldn’t mind if he just happened to pick up the phone.

He did pick up the phone when you called, and you were not disappointed in the slightest that it was Richie’s voice and not Bill Murray’s that had greeted you.

That first date turned into another, which turned into yet another one and no matter how scared he was that you would suddenly realize how much of a shitshow his life truly is he just didn’t seem to be able to scare you off.

He’ll be your number one cheerleader, always so proud of you, and he will tell everybody who lets him about you. And he loves to show you off. You are in his opinion way out of his league and he is just so damn proud to have someone as amazing and beautiful as you to call his and to love.

He loves taking pictures of you. Just silly little pictures, you picking up produce at the farmers market or silly little selfies of the two of you as you wait in line at Arby's. He just wants to remember all the nice little moments with you.

He’ll proudly flaunt you on his instagram for all his 36 followers to see (well, 37 now that you follow him)

You will usually try and match your lunch break at work to fit with family at the restaurant. Stepping into the restaurant to be met with a huge smile from Richie is one of the highlights of your day. The staff of the beef are essentially family to him and he is so happy to share you with them. You have become part of that little family and it is more than Richie could ever have dreamt of.

Neither of you are in a rush with your relationship. He is a divorcee with a daughter and you have never had any wild dreams about a wedding or an on paper ‘picture perfect’ relationship with a house and a white picket fence. You just want someone who loves you for exactly who you are and that someone is Richie.

It is about a year into your relationship that you say ‘I love you’ the first time you don’t know if it is late or not but one thing for sure is that the love had been there from early on.

It was four months into your relationship that he had asked you if you would like to meet his daughter and honestly that had been a bigger confession of love than anything else could have been. He loves his daughter more than anything in the world and you know that he would never bring up introducing you to her if it wasn’t because he was serious about you and wanted you as a permanent part of his life.

You had been a little nervous to meet her, you know how much she means to Richie and you had just really wanted her to like you. You had, however, not been the slightest bit nervous about how you would feel about her, she’s Richie’s little girl after all, a part of him, and you love every part of him.

Luckily for you, she absolutely adores you, and you adore her. It had meant everything for Richie to know that his baby girl and you were getting along so well.

It had been on that same night as you had uttered your first ‘I love you’s’ that he had asked you if you wanted to move in together. He had been so happy when you had kissed a ‘yes’ into his lips.

Living together is everything Richie could ever have dreamt of. Not waking up to an empty bed and knowing that you are at home waiting on him when he comes home from work is like a dream come true.

He is an early riser, usually you wake up to an empty bed, and even though you sometimes wish you woke up to warm, morning-cuddles it is always made up for by the sight of Richie in the kitchen. He is usually only wearing one of his, seemingly never ending supply of, ‘The Beef’ shirts and a pair of boxers.

His back will be turned to you as he’s in the midst of getting your coffee ready for you. It has become a fixture in your life with Richie, something you wouldn’t give up, even for all the morning-cuddles in the world.

You will sneak up on him and let your arms sneak around him, hugging him tight from behind and he will lean softly back into your embrace.

If he is having a smoke you will pluck the cigarette from his lips and take a few drags as you squish your cheek into his back and slowly let the comforting smell of brewing coffee wake you up. When the cigarette is smoked and ashed into the sink to later be thrown into the ashtray, Richie will turn around, engulfing you in his long, lean arms and press a gentle kiss to your forehead, kissing a ‘good morning’ into your still sleep-warm skin.

Your relationship with Richie is warm and loving. It doesn’t mean that it is constant smooth sailing, but you always work through the bumps you come across along the road together. That is the true beauty of your relationship with him, the constant reassuring feeling of togetherness.

You are in his life to stay, you are family now and Richie will do anything to keep you happy and by his side.

#richie jerimovich x reader #richie jerimovixh x you #richie jerimovich headcanon #richie jerimovich #the bear headcanon #the bear imagine #the bear fanfiction #the bear #the bear hulu #thebearweek #the bear fic #the bear fx #the bear x reader #carmen berzatto #springtyme writes

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holdinbacksecrets · 2 months

Note

svt finds out you were married before you met them

anon… this request is golden. thank you so much for sending it! i had the best time writing these 🤍

seventeen find out you were married before being with them

seungcheol: he’s at the bodega around the corner because you’re out of… he forgot the excuse. luckily, it was mumbled and difficult to make out, so he’ll bring back coffee. his palms are sweating and he looks up at the ceiling as if the answer’s in between the popcorn. now, you’re his. he’s yours. you’re one. but you were someone else’s, and that idea isn’t new to him, but knowing that someone was your husband makes it feel different. he looks up again. “please give me something here.” a light flickers. he leaves without the coffee

jeonghan: he stops to watch you spoon strawberry jam onto slices of toast. they’re golden brown triangles beside scrambled eggs, and you’re making sure the bright red covers the golden brown surface perfectly, just like you always do. the only red he can think about is the blood his heart is pumping, and the fact that his heart stopped pumping for a moment or two

joshua: “now everything makes sense.” “what do you mean?” “sometimes you’re just too good at being my partner.” “that has nothing to do with being married before. i’m literally just in love and obsessed with you. actually, being married did make me strict about the dishes. i’ll never go to bed with a pile in the sink.” “baby, you won’t go to bed if there’s a spoon in the sink or a crumb on the countertop.” “and how good does it feel to wake up and see a clean kitchen, hmm?”

jun: he’s confused. he’s wearing it, swallowing it, holding it in his gaze, and suddenly wondering how well he knows you— why it took you so long to tell him

soonyoung: “i knew it was a mistake by the next morning. i woke up craving my mom’s pancakes.” “have her send us the recipe.” you squeeze his hand and bow your head so your lips can brush its palm. “don’t worry, history won’t repeat itself.”

wonwoo: the photo album’s on his lap. it feels like a fever dream to look at you. you watch the sky through the window, craving color after too much black and white. “i’m mad at myself.” “why?” “i should’ve waited for you.”

jihoon: the ring came rolling out of its hiding spot and stopped in the middle of your bedroom floor. the sunlight caught it. he blinked a million times, felt his lips part too. you let it be. you exhaled, feeling relieved to part with the secret. finally

seokmin: “look at me. do i look upset?” “no… you eyes are all shiny” like he might cry. “it means a lot that you told me.” “i shouldn’t have waited so long.” “you really didn’t wait that long.” “are you sure you’re ok? do you… am i…” “yes.”

mingyu: the words come out on a sunday morning in the park near your place. your head’s on his shoulder. his hand’s on your thigh; it’s warm and the slightest bit rough—different from the cool, soft breeze on your cheek, on the back of your neck. he asks about your happiness and when it left the space you created with your ex. he wants to know what he can do to make sure that never happens again. he wants to make sure he’s not missing anything

minghao: he’s watching you. there’s gentle love in his eyes. he’s hoping you’ll look up and away from the sudsy dishes for just a moment long enough to realize he’s not mad. to realize it doesn’t change anything

seungkwan: he wonders about your wedding dress and if you still have it. he wonders about pictures and videos and the expression on your face at the altar. moments he’s dreamed about are already existing in memories, have already been seen by your loved ones, might be sour in your head. would you do it all again? do you even want to?

vernon: “i can’t help but wonder how many people make the same mistake as me… think something’s love when it’s not.” “do you really think of it as a mistake?” “pretty sure that’s just a fact.” “i’m not so sure… aren’t you the same person who’s told me for years that everything happens for a reason?” “maybe i just tell myself that to lessen the blow.” “possibly, but maybe it’s true. maybe that step that you think was in the wrong direction was crucial. i wouldn’t have found you any other way.”

chan: “i feel like i shouldn’t be looking at this… it’s like i’m seeing your dress before i’m supposed to. i shouldn’t know what you’ll look like walking down the aisle.” “this isn’t who i am anymore. think of how much time has passed. i have brand new skin now.” “…i thought you were going to say something romantic.”

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nelissecrectplace · 1 year

Text

Refuge

previous | part 2 | next

word count: 4.3k

language: Tsahík- spiritual leader

description: Confused by your avoidance Ao’nung frustration only seemed to build. Convinced he wanted to play you push him away. Backed into a corner the na’vi has to make some bold decisions.

Ao’nung did not understand why you were still angry with him. He had apologized to your sibling and even bit back his words, not teasing them as much, but your cold shoulder did not waver in the slightest. His sister sensing the tension had not paired you with him at all for the past week and it was starting too eat away at him. He did not know why he craved your attention so, but it was driving him insane. Barging into his family’s mauri his annoyance was evident. Placing himself onto his mat he sharpened his weapon body language full of agitation.

“You are frustrated brother?” Tsireyas voice was soft as she turned her body too face her older brother. She had an idea why he was angry but the she needed to hear it from him. “Why?”

“That woman she is unbearable! She will not even glance my way! You would have thought I killed her mother.” Casting his knife aside a sigh breached Ao’nungs lips as he turned too his littler sister. “You have been no help always stealing her from me.”

“I have done no such thing, I just thought you did not wish too teach her because..” Puffing her cheeks Tsireya looked for the right words. “The obvious tension.”

“Yet you pare me with the man I literally fought with.” A giggle left Tsireya as she looked at her brothers deadpan look. “Maybe that is the reason she will not speak too you. You did fight her brother after teasing Kiri because your day was bad.”

“No, I am fine with everyone but y/n! I gave the family a gift and all the Sullys talk with me freely.”

“So you have done all this so she will forgive you?” A purple hue cascaded over Ao’nungs cheeks as he looked away from his sister. The man’s pride would not allow him to admit the efforts he went to for something as simple as your attention. “Oh my Eywa you like Y/n!” Tsireya shrill voice filled the mauri as she squealed.

Running to her big brother she pinched his cheek with a smile so big her cheeks began too hurt. “Mother and father will be so happy you found your tsahík!” Swatting Tsireya hand away Ao’nung scoffed at her words. “It does not matter if she will not even look my way.”

“It could have been something you said. You have my tendency too talk…offensively without knowing the impact of your words.” Suddenly entering the conversation Ronal entered the mauri focusing her attention on her eldest son. “Have you been ease dropping?” Ao’nung asked an unamused look on his face. “Does not matter now who is too be my successor I must start training her!”

“She does not wish to have anything to do with me it is no use.” Rolling her eyes at her sons words Ronal sat in front of her two children. “You are to be the chief everyone desires you. If they do not make them, show her your intensions.” Smacking her eldest on his head Ronal rose too her feet once more. “Now grow some balls and court this na’vi! A confrontation is not that hard son.” Placing her hands on her mouth Tsireya attempted too muffled her laughter. Gathering herself the young na’vi followed her mother avoiding Ao’nungs death glare. He could not wait too get out of his family’s Mauri.

“Why do you still ignore Ao’nung?” Looking over too your sister confusion covered your features. The two of you were sitting on the very shore line the incident had happened. A broken sapling the only proof of the altercation between Ao’nung and your family.

“You know what he did too us, too Lo’ak.” Almost as if you were stating the obvious you crudely answered Kiris questions. Humming in response kiri placed her hands behind her, resting her body weight on them. “We have made peace y/n, why do you hold this grudge, it is unlike you.” Looking away from Kiri you hug your knees too your chest. You were at a loss for words, you did not wish too tell your sister about your feelings. It was already embarrassing enough that Ao’nung had played with your heart for so long. It was degrading knowing how desperate he perceived you, you did not wish for anyone else too form the same view.

“So sorry we are late! Are mother kept us.”

“It is fine.” Responding too Tsireya you mentally thanked Eywa. She had saved you from the pressure of answering Kiris questions. Rising too your feet you were quick to walk over too the girl, shooting kiri a sheepish smile. Rolling her eyes at your avoidance Kiri followed your lead as the two of you met the Siblings half way. Focusing all your attention on Tsireya you purposefully avoided Ao’nungs gaze, hoping that the man would disappear if you focused hard enough.

“I was thinking we could split up even more today. Since y/n is still struggling with Ilus she can stay here with my brother. He is one of the na’vi with the best knowledge of the sea animals.” With a smile decorating her face Tsireya looked between the two of you. She was obviously looking for approval and that was one thing you were not about to give.

“Actually-”

“That would be perfect!” Speaking over you kiri loudly agreed. Face morphing into a glare you looked at your sister. Kiri only wore a smug face as she peered at you. “Let’s head too the healing hut Tsireya.” Nodding enthusiastically, the na’vi waved goodbye, than motioned for kiri too follow. Watching your sister walk past you a wave of nerves washed over you. “Kiri-” As her name breached your lips her yellow eyes turned too yours. The look on her face was enough too shut you up as your ears pinned too your head. Tail drooping and ears down turned, you turned too face the na’vi in front of you, his form standing tall.

He seemed too be nothing but pleased at this arrangement as he looked down at you. It was a visible change in his attitude from the first day he was stuck with you, if anything he looked excited. Confusion clouded your brains as you examined the na’vi not sure why he seemed so please. “Don’t worry forest girl, I don’t bite.” Smirk plastered on his face he placed a hand on your back, guiding you too the water. Shying away from his touch you did not speak a word as you walked into the water, waiting for him to call an ilu. You pretended too not notice how his playful demeanor slightly shifted. Ao’nungs face twisting in dissatisfaction? You did not know. The only thing you knew was today was going too be a long day.

𓂅𓂅𓂅𓂅𓂅𓂅𓂅𓂅𓂅𓂅𓂅𓂅𓂅𓂅𓂅𓂅𓂅𓂅𓂅𓂅𓂅

A hefty sigh left Ao’nung lips as he rested his hands on his hips. “You can not ride the ilu as if you are bear back your legs must make adjustment.” Piercing your lips together you attempted adjust your body correctly. The instructions that seemed to have been said hundreds of time repeating in your head. Looking at your new adjusted form Ao’nung couldn’t help but pinch his nose bridge in frustration. It did not help that you had not uttered a word this whole time, simply humming in acknowledgment. “You know a word or two would help me understand why you are struggling.” Ao’nungs eyes seemed too pierce yours as he walked through the water over too you. It did not take long for the warrior to be inches away. His ocean orbs seeming to be waiting for a response as he stared with an expectant look.

Avoiding his gaze you turned your eyes too where your hand held the ilu. Adjusting your grip you attempted too ignore his obvious request for you too speak. As a response an annoyed groan left the na’vi lips, making your stomach slightly drop. “Than we will do this the hard way.” The words left his lips in a hiss. The questions filling with his intensions soon answered as you felt a strong grip on your thigh. A slight yelp left your lips at the contact, head wiping towards the na’vi. He wore a slight smirk as he peered at you moving your legs into his desired position. It only took moments for all the blood too rush too your face a purple hue decorating your cheeks. In your mind you attempted to remind yourself that he felt nothing but you failed to stop the butterflies from invading your stomach.

Reaching over too adjust your other half you felt your heart race. His face was inches away from your stomach. His hands quickly positioning your leg the way he wanted. His salty yet musky scent entering your nose. You did not realize how much you enjoyed his smell until he pulled away, admiring his work. “Scoot up a little for me.” Attempting to follow his instructions you slid your hips up too the end of saddle. A small laugh left the na’vi mouth as you did. “Here.” Ao’nungs hands finding their way too your hips slid you back slightly. “Perfect”

“Ao’nung” Ears perking up at the sound of his name the male quickly focused his attention on you. A slight smile decorating his face. Heart beating rapidly against your rib cage you couldn’t seem too get your words out as you admired his features. It seemed that all your thoughts were scrambled as his hands rested themselves on you. It was amazing what a simple touch seemed to do. Mouth opened like an idiot you only seemed to be able to stare as the hue on your cheeks darkened.

Gaining slight composure you brung your hands too rest on his. Seeming too get the message Ao’nungs ears lit up. Quickly removing his palms from your hips, he tucked them under his arms. Awkwardly cleaning his throat the na’vi looked the other way, avoiding your gaze. “Well, let see how you do go ahead and ride under.” Expertly covering up his embarrassment he ushered for you too continue. Humming in response you were quick too obligue. It seemed as if this was your hundredth time under the water as the familiar feeling engulfed you.

Although, this time it felt as if you were gliding through the currents. The struggle of fighting to stay on the ilu gone as the water glided around you. The pull of the water running through your hairs as if it was apart of the ocean. Breaching the water a rush of adrenaline filled your body. Your joyful laughter filling the area. Whipping your head around you were quick to find Ao’nung. Smiling brightly you swam your ilu over too his, happiness radiating off of you. “Did you see that! I have done it!” Overcome by excitement you launched your body into Ao’nungs. Arms wrapping around his neck you broke your bond. Your ilu swimming out from under you.

Looking up a smile mirroring yours adored the na’vis features. Ao’nungs arms quick too find your body. Wrapping an arm around your waist he quickly used the other too bring your body over his ilu. “Should of stayed with me, you would have had it down day one.” Stomach sinking at his words you suddenly remembered why you have not been with him. Smile dropping you unlatched your hands from around the male. An embarrassment like no other flooding in as regret settled in. You had literally just thrown yourself at him. Ears pinned too your head you avoided the na’vis now confused gaze. Ao’nung did not understand why your mood had done a full one-eighty.

“I am sorry, I got too excited.” Clasping your hands over your legs you starred down at the waves lapping over your thighs. Suddenly a light hand was placed over yours. His touch was gentle but it could not stop the whispers of doubts from entering your mind. “You are fine Y/n, your achievement was worth celebration.” You could only hum a response as you tried too calm the thumping of your heart. You hated how Ao’nungs presence only seemed to make so many doubts and feeling swirl. Your body and brain not knowing which one too display.

“I will swim back.” Awkwardly shifting your body off his ilu you submerged yourself into the sea. You felt a slight emptiness without his touch as you sank into the water, but that was just another feeling too add too the confusing mix. It seemed Ao’nung was not wiling too give you a break from the conflict he created in you as he was quick too dive in after you. ‘I will swim with you’ signing from above a slight smirk decorated his face. Motioning for him too follow you began to make your way back too shore. Being in the ocean always brought a feeling of peace yet you could not seem to admire the ocean life. Eyes constantly peering at the na’vi next too you. His curls flowing with the currents around him, his body moving effortlessly. It made your heart pang with a familiar pain. He was so beautiful yet that seemed to be the exact reason why he could toy with you as he pleased.

Finally breaching the water you gasped for air. Hoping to inhale as much as possible before making your way too the shore. Ao’nung who breached soon after seemed fine as his breathing settled quickly. You heard the water splash as his form followed. It was obvious he had no intension of letting you escape him. Feet finally touching the dry sand you turned too face the na’vi. Eclipse settling around the both of you. Ao’nung bioluminescent freckles shined with pride as he looked down at you. Taking a deep breath you met his ocean eyes. Ears perked up he waited for you too speak, hopeful for a positive exchange.

“What do you get out of this.” Gaze hardening you looked into him. Eyes furrowing at the question he slightly cocked his head too the side. “What do you mean?” Confusion evident in his tone he questioned you. A heft sigh left your lips as you ran your fingers through your braids. “I do not understand why you continue too play with me. My heart can not handle this, why don’t you leave in peace.”

“I am not playing with you.” Attempting too grab your hands you harshly jerk your body away. “Cut the shit Ao’nung go play with a Metkayinas heart.” Harshly rejecting his action you pull away from his touch. Confusion warped his features at the foreign word leaving your lips but he did not back down. “Why are you so resistant! I have done everything, yet you still deny me!”

“You know you have no real intension with me. You enjoy playing with my feeling taunting me and my brothers with the fact that I admire you. I am tired I cannot live like this! I will stop myself from wanting you so please let me move on.” Eyes glossing over you turn away from na’vi. “Goodnight Ao’nung.” The goodbye left your lips harshly as you sped away from him. Standing there like and Idiot Ao’nung watched your form retreat. He could not seem too process the words you had dumped on him. Too stunned by the fact that you wanted him.

Despite the fact that you had stormed away with the intension too not speak too the male again he couldn’t help the smile that played at his lips. Bringing his hand too his face he covered his growing grin as his stomach swirled with butterflies. The indirect confession had the na’vi swooning. Tail swaying in excitement he rushed back too his mauri. He knew exactly what he must do.

It had been a day since your interaction with Ao’nung yet your melancholy mood did not leave you. Lo’ak, taking notice too this, attempted too drag you out the mauri but too no avail. You refused your brothers attempt to cheer you up insisting you must stay too help kiri and your mother. You were thankful too Neteyam for dragging your twin away understanding you needed time. Your eldest brother was always intuitive, never pushing you too speak before you felt comfortable. Shooting him a half smile you thanked him, waving goodbye too the two males. You felt a relief like no other knowing the pestering would finally come too an end. Thanking Eywa Tuk’s instructor wanted to take her this evening. There was no doubt your mother and sister had noticed your low mood as well. The both of them treading around you as if the slightest mistake would make you snap.

Currently the three of you were preparing dinner. Wrapping fish and herbs into the seaweed for your mother too cook later. Conversation flowing fluidly between the woman to your left as you worked in silence. Thoughts consuming your brain as your hands worked slowly. It seemed that all your thoughts reverted too him. It made you want to scream in frustration. No matter how hard you tried to think of something else Ao’nung dominated your mind. It was torture. No matter how many harsh facts you reminded yourself of, your heart still called his name. Fingers struggling too seal the seaweed together you slammed the food down on the mat. Hands running through your braids in frustration. Silence filled the Mauri, both woman looking too you with concerned eyes.

“How about we take a break.” Breaking the silence your mother spoke. Placing the food too the side. “How about a new style on Y/n? Your braids have been in for quite a while.” Kiri suggested. Nodding in agreement you accepted her suggestion silently. You knew your braids were fine, but braiding each others hair has always been a way for the woman in your family comfort each other. Occasionally getting the person too open up. Placing themselves behind you the two of them began too unbraid. Helping with the ones you could you attempted too unbraid the front.

Soon your mother’s humming filled the mauri. Immediately recognizing it as your song cord song you felt the tension leave your body. Water running through your now unbraided hair you allowed a tears too flow down your cheeks. No longer being able too hold in your emotions. A vulnerability usually only your family had the luxury of seeing. Continuing too prepare your hair no words were spoken, yet you were given the best comfort you could receive. Your mothers songs resonating in the mauri. Kiris soft touch as she combed out your hair. The gentle yet firm tugs at your hair as they corn rowed it back. A calming feeling filling your soul as the ocean waves could be heard in the background of it all.

Before you knew it Eclipse has fallen. Their hands leaving your scalp as they admired their work. The top of your hair corn rowed back, connecting at the top too your queue to make one huge braid. Your mother left one small braid in the front too shape your face. Admiring their work you couldn’t help but allow a smile too form on your lips. “You are beautiful daughter.” Watching your admire yourself Neytiri wore a soft smile. The two woman proud too have lightened up your mood. Walking into the mauri your brothers were the first to return, their eyes finding you with the mirror.

“Woah look who got a make over.” Announcing their presence Neteyam was the first to speak. “Woah you actully don’t look like shit.” Of course, Lo’ak had to make a backhanded joke. Hissing at her second oldest son Neytiri lightly hit the back of his head. You and kiri could only laugh at Lo’ak scolding. Although the young na’vi showed no remorse. Neteyam could only shake his head at his brother stupidly, a small smile appearing on his lips. A soft mood filled the space around you as you felt your heart lighten. Basking in the presence of your family. Your father was soon to join the rest of you strutting into the mauri. A series of greetings followed as your mother embraced her mate.

“Where is Tuk Ma’Jake?” Peering behind him your little sister presence was missing. The mood in your home slightly dampened as you all shot your father questioning looks. “We have been invited to eat with Tonowaris family. It was implied that only adults should come so Tuk is having a sleep over with her instructors daughter. ” Looking into each of his children eyes he spoke too the whole family. “Ao’nung invited me this evening. I hope none of you have caused any more trouble?” All responding in sync you quickly denied your fathers accusation. A visible sigh of relief left him as his worries seemed to lift off him. A slight guilt pierced your heart, knowing you had slightly lied. But, you did not intend to come clean about the conflict, especially after seeing your fathers relief. “Go put something nice on.” Glancing at Neteyam and Lo’ak Jake slight cringed. “Especially you two.”

Smiling sheepishly the two looked down at their dirty loincloths. It was obvious they had been rough housing throughout the day. Moving too the girl side of the Mauri your mother undid your woven separator. You quickly began too pick out an outfit that was suitable, subconsciously wanting to look your best. “Here sister, wear this.” Pulling you away from your thoughts you peered at the outfit Kiri held in front of you. A light gasp leaving your lips. It was a beautiful top. Small pearls covered every inch of the string. The chest having seashell hanging in the oval shaped gaps too cover your breast. Along side it was a white loincloth with pearl straps on the side connecting the two pieces. “Do you not think it is too much.” voice dripping with doubt you admire the outfit with awe. “Of course not put it on. I’ll wear what you picked out.” Pushing the outfit into your hands kiri snatched your outfit from behind you. Looking too your mother she only shot you an approving smile.

Neytiri knew why kiri wanted you too look your best, knowing the theory Kiri had built around yours and Ao’nungs relationship. The two had even spoke about how he was possible the cause for your saddened mood. “Come on girls we don’t have all night!” Jakes booming voice filled the mauri, impatiences prominent in his tone. A series of grunts was all he got in return as the three of you shuffled into your clothes. Finally Walking out of the mauri the crisp night air greeted your skin. With your nerves building the six of you began your walk too the chiefs mauri.

𓂅𓂅𓂅𓂅𓂅𓂅𓂅𓂅𓂅𓂅𓂅𓂅𓂅𓂅𓂅𓂅𓂅𓂅𓂅𓂅𓂅

Apon entering the mauri you were immediately greeted by Tonowari. The warm air of their home welcoming you in. Eyes wandering you took in your surroundings. There was set up of food around a small fire. All kinds of fruits, meats and beverages lined up perfectly. Ronal who seemed to be placing the last dish around the fire took her seat around the arrangement. Tsireya was already in a conversation with Lo’ak and Neteyam, her bubbly personality radiating from her very being, Mother and Kiri placed to the side of the Tsahík, and Ao’nung who seemed to be arranging something in the corner. Blood running hot you allowed your eyes too scan his crouched body. Admiring the sight you had not seen since the other night.

You felt your heart skip a beat as he turned your way. Ocean eyes scanning you from top too bottom as you had just done too him. Casting your gaze away you placed yourself next to your father, who was still conversing with Tonowari. Much too your displeasure, that seemed too be Ao’nungs next stop. The na’vi stood tall next to his father. Ao’nungs blue eyes peering down at the two of you. “Hello Jake Sully.” Turning his gaze too the young na’vi a friendly smile covered your fathers face. “Hello Ao’nung, thank you for inviting us here. I’m guessing for a special ocassion?” Following your fathers gaze you looked too the direction the na’vi had come from. Looking at the assortment it was clear no ordinary na’vi could have put this together. There were fish bones, Jewerly, necklaces, spices, furniture, and even meat! Which was extremely rare in the Metkayina clan as they usually only ate aquatic life.

Mouth slightly agape you couldn’t help but stare at the pile, your shock displayed on your expression. “Yes,, you could say that.” A light smile played at Ao’nungs lips as he responded, eyes glued too you. Feeling his stare you tore your eyes from the corner. “Oh yes, thank you for inviting us.” Eyes only meeting his for a second you couldn’t help but tear your gaze away. After the last meeting it was simply too embarrassing, your assumed rejection fresh. “Of course. You are beautiful tonight Y/n.” Eyes widening you look up too the na’vi. A dark hue casting over your face as you pierced your lips together. Looking too the ground you went back too avoiding his gaze, feeling like an idiot for reacting. Of course he still wanted to play with your feeling.

“Well why don’t we eat!” Tonowaris voice boomed through out the mauri, indirectly telling his guests too sit. Getting the message you all gathered around. You sitting next to your father with Tsireya too your left. Of course the na’vi in front of you had too be Ao’nung. Eyes casted down you avoided his eyes, feeling your stomach sink. If it was possible you felt as if his gaze would have burned through you. Your appetite lessening bye the second. “I am sorry we must excuse your youngest today. It is just we did not need her approval for our discussion tonight.” Ronald voice was the first too speak. Her blue eyes casted on your father. Eyebrows furrowing in confusion he met her icy orbs. “Approval for what exactly?” Motioning her hands too Ao’nung all eyes shifted too the na’vi. He sat confidently as he looked at your father. A determination on his face you had not seen before. Inhaling slightly the na’vi spoke words you never expect too hear.

“I seek the family’s approval too court Y/n”

a/n: Sorry if this is not up too your expectations. Tbh I wasn’t expecting my 1st one too get sm attention but im so grateful 😭🙏🏽. I will fr take any writing advice too improve.

tags: @yeosxxx @atwow69 @misscaller06 @lynbubble @heart-an0n @jarofer @lovethefruitman @elegantkidfansoul @im-in-a-pansexual-panik @neteyamssbaby

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sxcret-garden · 4 months

Text

Jongho ღ 3:38pm [M]

ღ Ateez Jongho x fem-bodied!reader ღ words: ~1.8k ღ genre: (implied) fwb, roommate AU, smut (mean dom!Jongho, masturbation, reader fucks themselves with a hairbrush, guided masturbation, humiliation, spanking, degrading nicknames (slut, whore), ruined orgasm, he cums all over reader) ღ warnings: heavy dom-sub dynamic

Desc.: In which your roommate and friend with benefits walks in on you getting yourself off on top of his bed with the help of a hairbrush, and he’s anything but impressed.

Author’s note: me: i don’t like mean doms!!! - also me:

Out of all the times he could’ve caught you getting off, it just had to be now. The fact that you're completely naked, sprawled out and on full display really isn't the worst part. Neither is the fact that you're lying on his bed, and not yours. No, the real worst detail about this is something entirely different.

"A hairbrush?" Jongho raises an eyebrow at you as he leans against the doorframe to his room, arms crossed and his burning gaze not leaving your figure. You gulp. You had been so close when he had opened the door surprisingly - you had apparently failed to hear him unlock the front door when he came home earlier than you had expected - and now the disappointment from your orgasm slipping away from you mixes in with the utter embarrassment you're feeling about being caught red handed. "Couldn't even afford a proper toy, huh," he scoffs, mockingly, and your breath hitches at his tone. He knows the effect he has on you, he knows it very well, but in combination with the shame you currently already feel, the wave of heat it sends rushing through your body is just a little stronger than you'd have expected it to be.

You don't know how to respond, honestly. And so, while a part of you is still hoping he'd simply turn around and let you finish what you'd started, another part is desperately hoping he would continue talking, eventually saying something, anything, that would make this situation better in the slightest. However, he takes his time looking you up and down, letting his gaze wander your body as if it was the first time he's seen you naked and in a state like this, and his lips slightly part at the sight to give way for a gasp that is barely audible even to you, having all of your senses currently heightened.

"Keep going," he finally speaks. "I'll watch." You stare at him with wide eyes, not having expected this kind of reaction at all, but it's also not like you have it in you to disobey him, so keep going is what you do. You whimper at the sensation of the handle of the hairbrush gliding past your walls, almost all the way out of you, before you slowly push it back in and your eyelids flutter shut. "Look at me," Jongho commands, "while you fuck yourself on that thing." A whine makes its way past your lips, before you bite down on your bottom lip in an attempt to keep more such sounds from slipping out as you do your best to keep eye contact with your roommate. But no matter how hard you try, you can't withstand his intense gaze, and so you close your eyes a second time when you thrust the brush inside your pussy once more.

A click of his tongue snaps you back out of it. That's all it takes for you to peek up at him again, and you don't fail to notice a hint of a bulge in his pants. Of course he'd get hard upon seeing you in such a pathetic state, trying to get yourself off on your hairbrush, because your fingers just weren't enough as a substitute for his cock. Not like the handle of the brush is, but at least it gets a little closer to what you're really craving.

"J-jongho..." you mewl his name as your fingers are sloppily working your clit, drawing circles onto the sensitive bud that burn like fire under your roommate's gaze.

"What?" he answers, while you begin moving the hairbrush in and out of you more quickly. It must be completely soiled by now - no way you can use that thing to brush your hair without thoroughly washing it first, but that's a problem for later. "Were so desperate for my cock that you decided anything would do at this point?" He hits the bullseye on first guess, and though that doesn't surprise you, it still sends a shockwave of pleasure through your veins, having you clench around the handle of the brush. "Show me how good you can fuck yourself on this thing," he demands. "Bet a hairbrush won't satisfy a little whore like you when you have the real thing standing right in front of you, huh?" An uncontrolled whimper escapes you at his words, your hips bucking into your hands desperately trying to find the right pace that would let you ride on the wave towards your high.

"Fuck..." you mewl, still picking up speed and angling the brush so that with every stroke against your walls, it would be sure to hit that delicious spot deep inside.

"Lift your legs up, little slut," you can hear him mutter. "Gonna feel better that way."

"Mhmm," you let out a noise as you do as told, bringing your knees all the way up to your shoulders, and giving him a better look at your dripping cunt in the process.

"If you're gonna act like a slut, might as well look like it," he says, and his gaze drops to your ass. "Keep going. Nobody told you to stop." And you do, and the new angle really does make everything feel that much more intense.

"Shit, Jongho..." You can't help his name from falling from your lips as you close your eyes once again, hoping that this time he'd allow you to.

"Need to be filled up so bad, hm? You don't care what gets stuffed into your cute little pussy so long as it's full. Admit it. You just wanna cum around something, doesn't matter what it is that gets shoved up there." His words resounding in your ears, you can't decide whether you agree or not, but you sure as hell do know that the way he talks to you is getting you closer and closer to the edge.

"Y-yeah," you mutter, in hopes he'd keep going, keep humiliating you like that until your orgasm comes crashing down on you. And then you hear rustling very close to you, and you feel a hand wrapping around yours, that's holding onto the brush, and he sets his own pace of thrusting the object in and out of you.

"F-fuck...!" You cry out as your eyes open in surprise, and you see Jongho hovering above you, now closer than ever as he calmly watches you writhing in pleasure underneath him.

"Too bad you can't appreciate what you're given," he goes on. "My cock would've been so much better. Hell, even my fingers. But you settle on a hairbrush," he scoffs, thrusting the object into you with such force that it makes your head spin as you roll your eyes back. "You really think you're gonna get off on this thing, huh? Don't make me laugh." At this point all you can utter are incoherent moans as you desperately keep playing with your clit, chasing your high that feels so damn close. "Aren't you embarrassed to be doing this on my bed? If you wanna get fucked so badly here, maybe you should've waited for me, hm?" And again, no proper answer will leave your lips, and with just a few more thrusts of the brush into your cunt, you're thrown over the edge.

You clench around nothing. The finger pressed to your clit isn't enough to keep you high on the wave of pleasure you'd been hoping for. Instead, you mewl pathetically, emptiness overtaking you as a rather weak orgasm comes to a halt way too soon. He pulled out just as you reached your high, and now he's kneeling there in front of you, throwing the soiled brush to the side, and even though you prepare yourself for what's to come as he lifts up his right hand, you still cry out as it comes flying to your ass. You hiss at the tingling pain that remains, no warm palm rubbing soothing circles onto the spot to ease it right away. Instead, a second smack, making you arch your back in pain and pleasure as you moan. And then a third one, and when you open your eyes to look at Jongho, you can't accurately read the expression currently sitting on his face, and it makes you nervous.

"Should've thought things through beforehand, huh?" That's all he says, before he unzips his pants and pulls down his boxers to let his cock spring free. With only a few thrusts of his large hand it's grown to its full size, and as your body remembers what it feels like to have him inside you, you gasp. "You want this?" he mutters darkly, while jerking himself off at an unhurried pace.

"Y-yeah..." you say, unable to take your eyes off him. Your roommate huffs, a hint of amusement sparking in his eyes.

"And you think you're gonna get that?" Hearing him pose his question, you're sure you already know the answer. But you keep hoping anyway, and so you can't but beg.

"Please... gonna be good from now on..."

"A good little slut for me?" Precum leaks from the tip, and when his fist reaches it he spreads it all over his length in one swift motion.

"Yeah..."

"Cute," he says, his hand moving a bit faster yet. "Then do what good little sluts do and hold still." Hope dies last, they say, but as you watch the features on his face contort and his breath grows heavier, you know not to expect to be satisfied today. However, you can't bring yourself to disobey either, and so you lie there and watch as he makes himself cum with a groan, his seed spurting all over you. Painted in white from your chest down to your belly button, your vision goes blurry for a second, before Jongho catches his breath and he pulls his pants back up. Getting off the bed, you watch in disbelief as he walks out the room as you’re covered in the mess you caused, but when moments later he reappears with a towel in his hands you let out a sigh of relief. He sits down beside you, leaning in so his lips hover just above your ear.

"All of that could've gone inside of you," he mutters, the thought alone drawing a whine out of you. "Stuffed full not only with my cock, but with my cum too. You would've liked that, hm?" He brushes a stray strand of hair out of your face, but to be honest the loving gesture only makes you feel conflicted. "Clean yourself, baby," he commands, handing you the towel. "And maybe if you're being good I'll remind you of who can satisfy your greedy little cunt best later on."

#ateez smut #jongho smut #ateez x reader #ateez x fem reader #ateez imagines #jongho x reader #ateez scenarios #ateez drabbles #jongho imagines #smut

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