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thewritingrowlet · 19 hours

Text

The White Swan, ft. tripleS Ji Seoyeon

tags: first time (with a small twist), creampie, friends-to-lovers (kinda), (a lot of) pet names

word count: 15k+ words

author's note: here it is, The White Swan fic that I've mentioned before. I know that it's a long one and I should probably write shorter fics but I just couldn't help it. Lmk what you think. Thanks for reading <3

Ballet [noun; ba-ley, bal-ey]

“A classical dance form demanding grace and precision and employing formalized steps and gestures set in intricate, flowing patterns to create expression through movement.”

“Yeah, so what is that exactly?”, you wonder to yourself after looking up the word’s definition in the dictionary on your phone. “Grace and precision, huh? Interesting”, you continue. You put your phone in your pocket and promise yourself you’ll look up videos of people performing ballet when you get home as you keep walking past the lit-but-empty classrooms—it’s past 7 pm; most undergrads are at home, allowing the time and space for postgrads to do their stuff. You, a 3rd-year student, just finished tutoring Business Mathematics II on the 2nd floor of the F building to a bunch of sophomores and are now on your way home.

At least that was the plan, until you hear music coming out of one of the classrooms on the first floor. The music itself piques your curiosity, as you stop in front of the door of said classroom and look through the tinted glass door. You see that the chairs have been moved to the sides, creating a big empty space for the girl in the middle of the classroom; “wait, a girl?”, you think to yourself as you move your face closer to the glass. You keep your eyes on the girl wearing a long-sleeve T-shirt and grey training pants who’s dancing in that empty space; “that looks graceful and precise”, you mutter under your breath.

If someone were to see what you’re doing right now, they would most likely think you were a creep. You can’t even begin to describe how captivating and supple and charming the girl’s movements are. You also can’t help but keep your eyes on the girl the whole time—that is until the music ends, and she makes eye contact with you and starts walking to the door. It doesn't quite help you that she has a serious face on as she’s turning the door handle. “Hi, can I help you?”, she says. You don’t want her to think that you were stalking her, so you muster up your courage and get ready to apologize for peeking at her through the glass door like that. You start by bowing slightly before opening your mouth, “I was walking down from the 2nd floor and heard music coming out of this classroom, so I decided to see what was going on and ended up looking like a creep—which I’m not, just so we’re clear. I apologize for being so rude”.

You dare not look into her eyes and decide to look at your shoes instead while bracing for pain in case she slaps you in the face—let’s be real; it would be understandable on her part and deserving on yours. To your absolute surprise, she laughs instead; “oh, it’s fine”, she says, “you know, I’m kinda honored that someone decided to stop what they were doing and were fascinated by my routine”. You look up and see that she’s holding out a hand, probably looking to shake yours; “my name is Ji Seoyeon, but some call me Jiyeon to avoid confusion with someone else—you probably know who I’m talking about”, she says.

You nod at her words—she’s referring to Yoon Seoyeon, a fellow 3rd-year and the current president of the student council who also happens to be on the dean’s list; the girl does it all and boy does she do it well. You shyly take her hand for a handshake, and she surprises you one more time; “wait, aren’t you one of Professor Kim’s teaching assistants? I’ve been to one of your classes before. I think it was Business Mathematics II”, she reveals to you. “Funny you should say that”, you chuckle, “I just finished tutoring BM II and you weren’t there—for obvious reasons”. Her big eyes get even bigger due to her shock hearing your words and she runs to check her phone; “oh my goodness, it is Tuesday! I should’ve gone to your class!”, she exclaims and covers her face with her hands in embarrassment, “I’m so sorry, sunbaenim. I forgot that it was Tuesday thus I missed your class”. You shake your head and tell her that it’s not a big deal since TA’s classes aren’t mandatory.

“So, what now? Are you going to practice again?”, you ask. Jiyeon opens her mouth but before the words can come out, her stomach answers for her with a growl. “Oh, you must be hungry. Haven’t eaten yet?”, you are as surprised as she is. “I wanted to get dinner after practicing b-but you got to me first”, she turns her face away to hide her embarrassment. “I know I’m overstepping here but can I treat you to dinner?”, you offer her, hoping that she won’t take it as anything else other than a gesture of kindness and apology. Jiyeon looks down at her shoes before answering, “um, yes, please. Let me wipe myself first, though; I’m very sweaty”.

You find yourself walking towards the campus gate with Jiyeon, and you see your friend Suyeon in front of it, presumably waiting for someone or something. You walk up to her and tap her shoulder, “yo, waiting for someone?”. She turns to your direction and gives you a fist bump, “yeah, waiting for my Uber. What about you?”. You tell her your plan to get dinner before going home. “Sounds nice, can I come along?”, as soon as Suyeon says that, she makes eye contact with Jiyeon, “oh, you already have company. I would hate to third wheel”. You take a step back so that the two girls can face each other, “Suyeon-ah, this is Ji Seoyeon—also known as Jiyeon. Jiyeon-ah, this is my friend, Suyeon”. Suyeon shakes Jiyeon’s hand and asks, “Seoyeon? Like the president?”. Jiyeon answers timidly, “exactly like the president, sunbaenim. Please call me Jiyeon”. Before Suyeon starts assuming things, you jump to clarify, “I, uh, was spying on her like a weirdo when she was practicing in an empty classroom so now, I want to treat her to dinner as an apology”. “I didn’t ask”, Suyeon says before laughing, “nice to meet you, Jiyeon-ah. Tell me if he tries anything and I will whoop his ass for you”. You roll your eyes, “I might be single but I’m not a degenerate, Kim Suyeon”. “True, you’re actually nice and respectful—now get out of here, she must be starving already”, Suyeon gives you another fist bump and sends you on your way.

“So, any idea what to get?”, you ask Jiyeon as you two leave the campus area. “I kinda want something warm—something with broth or soup”, she says. “I don’t usually eat that sort of food, so I have no idea, sorry”, you admit your cluelessness. “That’s okay, we can go to my favorite spot if you don’t mind”, she says. “I sure don’t; lead the way”, you tell her. “Can we get an Uber? It’s like 5 kilometers away from here—I’ll pay, don’t worry”, she suggests. Walking for 5 kilometers is not only tiring, but also time consuming, so you agree with her suggestion; “yeah, we can get an Uber. I’ll pay for it, it’s okay—I’m not accepting counter arguments, by the way”.

You two stop in your tracks and wait for Jiyeon to call an Uber. Lucky for you, the app shows her that the car is 3 minutes away from your location, so you try to make small talk as you wait; “so what were you practicing? Your moves looked delicate, for a lack of better words”. You see a light of excitement in her eyes as she answers you, “that was ballet”. “Ballet, huh?”, you say internally. “There’s a ballet competition coming up in like 3 weeks or so and I’ve been preparing for that since last week”, she adds. “Do you think I can go and watch you perform?”, you ask her with as genuine a voice as possible. “You probably can”, she fiddles with her phone, presumably to ask someone about your question, “I’m gonna ask the contact person and find out exactly”. You see the car pulling up to you, so you save the rest of the conversation for later.

You’re now standing in front of a noodle soup restaurant and Jiyeon leads you into it. She walks straight to the register and tells the person attending it her order. She asks you what you want to eat but since you’re not familiar with the place, you ask her to order for you. After ordering, she leads you to her favorite table and takes a seat in front of you. “Oppa”, she says while looking at her phone, “the person said you can watch but you’ll need a ticket. How many do you want?”. Your heart flutters when you hear her call you that, but you quickly compose yourself and answer her question, “I’ll just take one, I don’t know if any of my friends would be interested in watching ballet. Can you ask them if there’s a better seat, by the way? I don’t mind paying extra as long as I get better view to see you perform”.

It is when Jiyeon gets off her phone does she realize what she just called you, “I’m sorry, sunbaenim”. You have an idea as to what she’s apologizing, but it doesn't hurt to make sure; “for what?”, you ask back. “I called you ‘oppa’ earlier, but I don’t know if I can call you that”, she says, apologetic. You wave off her concern, “it’s fine, there’s no need to act so formal with me”. You can feel that things are getting awkward, as shown by how Jiyeon speaks way less compared to earlier. Lucky for you, a waiter stops at your table and drops off your orders. Lucky for you again, Jiyeon seems to be excited seeing the bowl of warm noodle soup in front of her; “thank you for the meal!”, she says with excitement in her voice.

“Thank you for buying me dinner, sunbaenim”, she says while the two of you stand outside the restaurant. “The pleasure is mine, Jiyeon-ah.Any update about the ticket?”, you say to her. “Oh, right”, she fishes her phone from her pocket again and checks her messages, “okay so, the VIP ticket costs ₩8.000 and ₩10.000 for VVIP. VVIP is guaranteed to be on the first two rows while VIP is 3-5”. It’s a no-brainer for you, really; “I’ll take the 10k one, I need to make sure I’ll be able to see you”, you tell her. You pretend to not see her blush, but it’s kind of hard to do so you look away for a second as her fingers pace around on her phone screen restlessly. “Oppa”, you’re really starting to think that she’s become more comfortable with you, “the person said they need 1 or 2 days to process your purchase. In the meantime, can-can I, uh, have your number?”. You tell her your number digit by digit and manage to peek at the name she gives you; “BM TA-oppa”, how cute. After saving your contact information, she calls your number so that you can save hers on your phone. Your dullness leads you to naming her “Ji Seoyeon”, just like how you name everyone else on your phone aside from your parents.

“May I ask what your plan is after this?”, you ask Jiyeon. “I’m gonna walk home, I think; I don’t live far from here, somewhere in that direction”, she points vaguely to her left. You offer to walk with her to her apartment, and she says yes right away—she most likely heard what Suyeon said about you at the gate and thought that you wouldn’t try anything stupid with her, which is absolutely correct. You also offer to help her carry her tote bag and start walking in the direction she pointed at.

As you’re walking side by side with Jiyeon, your brain suggests asking her about ballet; “what is ballet to you, Jiyeon-ah?”. She stays silent for a few seconds before taking a deep breath, “ballet is a lot of things, oppa”. You’re not quite sure what she means, so you ask her to explain further. “First of all, ballet has taught me self-control and discipline; you can’t be good at ballet if you lack those two things—how can you convey grace and emotions, which is the whole point of ballet, to the audience if you can’t control yourself and be disciplined?”, she explains to you. You can tell that she has quite the experience and wisdom under her belt judging by her answer; “may I ask how long you’ve been into ballet? Your answer sounds like that from someone with experience”, you say to her. She scratches her temple, “Since I was 8 or 9, I think?”.

You finally arrive at her building after about 5 minutes of walking, so you hand her tote bag back to Jiyeon. She waves at you with a smile before entering her building, so you wave back before walking away. You’re only a dozen steps away from her building when you feel a tap on your shoulder. You turn around and see that it’s Jiyeon; “can I help you?”, you ask her. “Um, yes, you can; can you help me find empty classrooms to practice in?”. You do have that sort of reach as a teaching assistant, so you tell her that you indeed can, “when are you looking to practice?”. She pulls out her phone again and looks at her schedules, “Friday evening this week, Wednesday and Friday evening the following week, and finally Tuesday and Wednesday the week after that—each session will be like 2 hours long, by the way. I will miss another class of yours in that 3rd week, so I apologize in advance”. You pull out your phone and write down her practice schedules on the notes app, “I can secure a classroom for you this Friday but I’ll need to talk to some people for the other schedules”, you say to her. “Thank you, oppa. See you on Friday!”, she waves at you again before running back to her building.

Friday comes sooner than you anticipated, which means that you’ll be seeing Jiyeon after this tutoring session. You wrap up your class after the 55 minutes are up and send the freshmen on their way while urging them to be quick, stating that you have an important meeting after this—Jiyeon is important to you, so you’re not exactly lying to them. Once the class is clear of people, you send a text to Jiyeon, “I’m in Classroom 2-4 on the F building, it’s clear here”. She replies right away and says that she’s on her way to you, so you start moving the chairs to the side and make some room for Jiyeon.

Her timing couldn’t be more perfect, as you hear a knock on the door as soon as you’re done clearing the room. You tell her to come in and see that she’s in a different practice outfit from a few days ago. “Hiiii”, she says as she closes the door behind her. “Hello, Jiyeon-ah. How are you today?”, you greet the ballerina. “A couple of questions before we start”, she says, “number one; can I actually call you ‘oppa’? Number two; how did you manage to find an empty classroom for me seemingly so easily?”. You sit down on the teacher’s chair, “number one: yes, you can. Number two: did you forget that I’m a TA? I can do these sort of things, you know—Professor Kim gave me this freedom when I became her TA”. Jiyeon nods to your answers, “very cool”. You take your backpack and head to the door. “Oppa, where are you going?”, she asks. You’re caught off guard by her question, “Oh, I don’t know; I just thought I should leave and give you some privacy”. She rushes to you and grabs your wrist, “do you not want to watch me practice? I can give you an exclusive preview for the competition”. That sounds like a fun time as much as it is a spoiler, so you concur and take a seat at the teacher’s desk.

“Start the music on my signal, please”, she hands you her phone and takes the center spot. She mouths the countdown, and you press play right after she finishes it. The same music from a few days ago starts playing, and Jiyeon starts her routine right away. You are immediately fascinated by her movements, and you can’t help but be silent and wholeheartedly pay attention. You find every movement she’s making to be charming and moving but can’t string the words together to describe it; “this must be what a pro looks like”, you think to yourself.

You’re completely entranced by the sight in front of you that you don’t realize that the performance is complete. Only when she sighs do you come back to your senses and feel the tears that are falling out of your eyes and onto your cheeks. “That was not as good as I wanted, I’m sorry”, she says. She hears your subtle sniffle and looks at you perplexedly, “are you okay, oppa? Why are you crying?”. You sniffle before answering her, “wha-what do you mean that wasn’t good? Like-like… what?”. You wipe your eyes with your hands before continuing your speech, “that was… sooo beautiful and charming and captivating and flawless and-and-and—oh, God, I’ve never seen anything like that before in my life”. Jiyeon walks up to you and lifts your chin with a smile on her face, “you’re so sweet, oppa; Suyeon-sunbaenim was right”. She then wipes your tears softly with her thumbs, “thank you for the kind words, oppa. They mean a lot to me, you know”.

You take a few deep breaths to compose yourself before sighing, “I swear I’ll cry like a damn baby if I see you perform this at the competition”. She walks back to her spot and assumes a perfect standing posture, “I’m sorry, I should’ve started with something lighter—I’ll do it now, actually. Here, play the 24th song”. You’re surprised to hear the number, “you have 24 routines, dear?”. She blushes and covers her face when she hears the pet name, “ki-kind of—aaaaaah don’t call me that, oppaaaaa”. You lightly slap your mouth, “I’m so sorry; force of habit from my parents”. Jiyeon exhales and focuses again, “press play now, the song doesn’t start until after a few seconds”.

She stands by and waits for the song to start, which takes about 5 seconds after you pressed play. You’re totally bewitched again and brought back to a trance like earlier, as you sit with your mouth open like a dumbass. “Whoa”, you mutter under your breath, “this girl is crazy good”. You wish you were able to come up with a sentence—or a paragraph—that can describe the way she’s moving right now. It just so happens that your brain is too busy trying to comprehend what you are looking at. At some point, your brain decides to give up and tells your eyes to shed more tears. Unlike earlier, however, you can feel your tears rush down your face; “so this is ballet, huh?”, you say to yourself.

Her routine ends with her looking straight at you, so you cover your eyes to hide the flowing tears. Judging by her pants, she seems to be tired—if you’re doing something that passionately the way she is now, you’re guaranteed to be tired after. You turn away from her and wipe your eyes before saying anything. “I’m so sorry, you must think I’m some sort of a loser for crying so much”, you admit your defeat despite feeling embarrassed. “No, I don’t”, she says, “you have a good heart and that’s always a great sight to see”. She walks to her stuff and grabs a bottle of water, “would you like some water?”. You decline her offer by shaking your head, “with the way I’m crying right now, I’ll just drink my tears”.

She laughs before taking a gulp herself, “you know, I’ve never had someone cry when they watch me practice before, and I’ve practiced in front of people many times”. You look down in shame, “I’m sorry, I don’t know what has gotten into me”. “Thank you, oppa”, she utters. You turn to face her, “huh? For what?”. She exhales deeply before replying, “for showing genuine interest in my craft”. To your surprise, she decides to give you a peck in the cheek, thus forcing you to blush. “I’m just being myself, Jiyeon-ah”, you say. “That’s not my name, is it?”, she giggles cutely, “where did the pet name go? Did a cat steal it, oppa?”. You feel your cheeks get hotter, “are you sure I can call you that? I mean, the first one was an accident”. She shrugs, “I don’t see why not. Accidents aren’t always bad, oppa; they can lead you to great things too, you know”.

You stayed with her until the end of her practice, which took about 2 hours in total. With every routine she did, you laid a brick to build up some resemblance of mental toughness to not bawl your eyes out the whole time—you’re slightly worried that you’ll eventually be desensitized by the gracefulness that she’s showing you through ballet, but that’s a problem for another time. “Dear”, you call out to Jiyeon, who is now lying on her stomach while fiddling with her phone, to get her attention, “can I treat you to dinner again after this?”. She rolls onto her back to look at you, “Sure, what are we getting?”. You open your notes app scroll through the list of good restaurants nearby, “tteokbokkiand popcorn chicken? Malatang? Noodle soup like last time, maybe?”. “The first option sounds good. Can we get that?”, Jiyeon says. “We sure can, we’ll take my car and drive there”, you stand up from your seat and help her get on her feet. “Wait outside, dear; I wanna change clothes first”, she says. You rush to exit the room to make sure Jiyeon doesn’t see the blush and shock on your face.

You wait outside as she asked, and it didn’t take long until you feel a tap on your shoulder. “Let’s go, oppa”, she says. “Man, I would love to hear the pet name again”, you silently wish, “yeah, let’s go. My car is in the parking lot”. “I didn’t know you had a car”, she comments as the two of you start walking. “And I didn’t know you were a ballet prodigy—surprise, surprise”, you joke. She laughs enthusiastically at your small joke and suggests a brilliant idea; one you’ve been waiting for her to say, “we should get to know each other better soon, oppa. I like surprises and all that but not when I’m looking for a boyfriend”. You pretend to not hear what she just said and keep walking until you reach your car.

You unlock the doors and get in with Jiyeon. “Why is your car so clean, oppa?”, she looks around the interior and even opens the glovebox—you’re surprised to see her do that but thankfully you barely keep stuff in it so she doesn’t find anything that might raise suspicion. You know you got caught, so you admit to her that you had your car all cleaned up yesterday to prepare for the dinner “date” tonight. “Ah, good job thinking ahead”, she praises you. You head to the exit and call out to your phone to find the quickest route to get to your destination; “8 minutes to destination”, it says. As much as you want to act like you were that famous racer Scott Chegg and beat the estimated time, you have an important passenger next to you right now, so you suppress your intrusive thoughts and drive like a sane person.

“Alright, let’s park here and walk. The restaurant is in that alleyway to your left—stay in the car for a sec, please”, you say to her after parking your car and killing its engine. Jiyeon does as you say, and it gives you enough time to rush to the other side of the car and open the door for her; “my lady”, you say, offering her your hand to help her get out of the car. “Aww, so cute”, she takes your hand and gets out of the car. Jiyeon decides that it’s now okay to have more physical contacts with you, as she leans her head against your shoulder while wrapping an arm around yours. As much as you enjoy it, you don’t want to let your horses run out of the barn just yet; there’ll be plenty of opportunities to do so in the future (hopefully). You point to the restaurant that has a bright yellow and blue sign and lead her to it.

“Good evening, welcome to Terrific Tteokbokki. What can I get you today?”, the staff greets you. You’re familiar with this place, so it’s your turn today to order for the two of you, “hi, good evening. Can we get one large bowl of Terrific Combo and two drinks?”. “Absolutely”, the staff’s finger scurries around the computer screen in front of him, “that would be ₩9000 with the drinks”. You see Jiyeon pull out her wallet as you do yours, so you hold her hand back and insist on paying for tonight’s dinner. The staff then hands you two large empty cups for the bottomless drink that comes with the combo. You hand Jiyeon a cup and walk over to the drink machine with her. You fill your cup with iced lemon tea while she fills hers with zero-sugar soda. “You like soda, Jiyeon-ah?”, you ask her. “Only if it’s zero-sugar, otherwise it’s too much sugar—paying attention to what you eat and drink is important, oppa. I suggest doing so if you haven’t already”, she says. You then tell her that you only pay attention to how much you eat and how much you exercise in a day but not to the actual nutritional contents of your food.

You both find a table to sit at and wait for your food to be delivered. Jiyeon follows up on the conversation from a few minutes ago; “can I ask what your exercise is like?”, she asks. “I play basketball for at least an hour on Tuesday, Wednesday, and Friday and lift weights on Monday and Thursday. On the weekend I usually get on the treadmill to get my steps in”, you explain to her. “You play basketball, oppa?”, she looks at you in disbelief. You’re not quite sure why or how she finds that to be surprising considering your height—anyone who sees your height usually assume that you play either basketball or volleyball, “yeah, I was a role player playing off the bench as a freshman when Yoon Seoyeon’s boyfriend was the captain and I won the national championship with him. I left the team in my sophomore year after he graduated—he got summa cum laude, by the way. My man instantly got a job after graduating at a tech startup after that. He was always the big brain both on the court and in the classroom”, you tell her. “But why did you leave the team? You could’ve taken over as the captain”, she presses on. You sigh at the cheerless memory, “the captain left some gigantic shoes to fill, and no one could fit in them, including myself—no one could replicate what he was as a leader and a player. Team morale started sinking to the bottom of the Mariana Trench as we started crashing out of tournaments as favorites, so I decided to dip and became a TA instead”. You see a bright lightbulb float over her head as she suggests an idea, “can we have a little basketball date one day, oppa? I would love to learn basketball from you”. “We sure can, dear. Just tell me when”, you smile at her.

“Thank you for the meal!”, Jiyeon says with an excited face after a waiter drops off the food on your table. “That is so good, oppa. Do you come here often?”, she says. You swallow your mouthful before replying, “yeah, the captain used to take us here on the weekends. He was such a good guy, no wonder Seoyeon loves him so much”. She tilts her head in curiosity, “you speak so highly of this captain, oppa. Can I ask what sort of relationship you have with him?”. Recounting the cheerful memory helps draw a smile on your face, “he was the true leader for us; his presence alone could lift the spirit of every player around him. Not to mention that he was such a great scorer and facilitator for the team. We all relied on him every time he was on the floor”.

In the corner of your eyes, you see a tall guy start walking up to you and Jiyeon from the cashier area. “Yo, yo”, the guy says, so you look over and see that it’s the captain that you were talking about. “Hyung!”, you drop your jaw in shock, “what are you doing here?”. He gives you a fist bump, “I’m getting some food for me and Seoyeon. What are you doing here?”. You wipe your mouth before answering him, “I’m treating my friend here for dinner. It’s so nice to meet you, hyung. How are you?”. You see that gentle smile that you always liked on his face, “I’m doing very well, man. Would you mind introducing me to this friend of yours?”. You turn to Jiyeon, “hyung, this is my friend Ji Seoyeon—yes, the same first name as your girlfriend—Jiyeon-ah, this is my captain”. Jiyeon stands up and greets him, “hello, sunbaenim. Nice to meet you”. “Oh, there’s always room for more sweet girls named Seoyeon in this world. Please, have a seat”, he says, “tell me something, Jiyeon-ah: is he treating you well? I’ll kick his ass to the ground for you if he ever tries anything dumb with you”. Jiyeon laughs shyly, “he’s actually very kind and sweet, sunbaenim. He even helped me find an empty classroom so that I can practice ballet”. Captain-hyung nods in approval, “Ballet, huh? That’s great to hear; I could tell that he was a good person when he first joined us for practice. I sometimes wish we could utilize him more during that run”. His words make you shy, “oh, c’mon, hyung; you know I was always happy with my role, right?”. “Oh, I know”, he pats you on the back, “we couldn’t have done it without you”.

You hear the staff call out his name, which means that his order is ready to be picked up and it’s time for him to leave. “I tried paying for your food, but I was told that you already paid so your next visit here is on me, you can buy whatever you want and I’ll pay”, he waves goodbye before walking out the door, “I’ll see you soon, okay?”. You don’t realize that you still have a smile on your face until Jiyeon tells you about it, “you like him that much, huh?”. You turn your focus back to Jiyeon and the food in front of you, “I love him”. Jiyeon smiles hearing you say that, “but do you love me?”. Your eyes nearly jump out of their sockets due to the surprise, “o-oh, um, I-I do, honestly—I hope that’s not too presumptuous of me”. Jiyeon looks down at the table to hide her pink hue, “I love you too, dear”.

“Oppa”, she says, standing outside the restaurant, “can you take me home, please?”. “Absolutely, dear”, you get in the car with Jiyeon and start it so you can take her home. “Can I play some music, oppa? There’s this group that I’ve been obsessed with”, she says. You give her your approval, so she connects her phone with your car’s speakers over Bluetooth. “This song is called Girls Never Die, oppa”, she says as the song starts playing. You listen and pay attention to the song that’s playing over the speakers as you keep driving. You find the lyrics to be moving and meaningful while the beat is uplifting; “this is a great song”, you think. “What do you think, oppa?”, she asks. “I think it’s a great song”, you offer her your take, “I really like how they say ‘even if I fall, I stand back up’ and ‘I’m going until the end and not giving up. I think such messages are very uplifting and relatable, especially coming from a girl group. Combine that message with the beat that it’s delivered with, and it’s just an amazing song. The title itself is great, by the way. What group is this?”. She smiles in approval of your opinion, “they’re called tripleS and they have 24 members, oppa. I’ve been listening to their songs a lot recently for the messages that each one delivers”. You squint your eyes, “isn’t 24 too many?”. Jiyeon chuckles, “apparently not, no”.

“We’re here, dear”, you announce to Jiyeon, who happened to fall asleep during the ride. She slowly wakes up from her peaceful nap, “we are? That’s unfortunate”. You look at her with a confused face, “what do you mean?”. She stretches her arms and yawns, “I would love to spend more time with you”. Your horses start getting excited, but you hold them for now, “we can do that in the future. You should rest, you must be tired from practicing”. She twiddles her finger, showing you some aegyo, “can you open my door like before?”. You get out of the car with a smile on your face and open the passenger door for her, “may I, sweetie?”. “Aaaah, oppaaa”, she takes your hand while her cheeks are on fire—with how often she’s blushing tonight, you might as well start calling her tomato cheeks. You walk her to the door of her building and say your farewell. Instead of walking into her building, she decides to walk closer to you. “Can I help you, dear?”, you ask, unsure of her intentions. “Lean forward, please”, she says. You lean forward as requested and your new height allows her to give you a peck on the lips while being on her tippy toes. “I love you”, she confesses. You get to her eye level and reciprocate her confession while looking straight into her big eyes, “I love you too, baby”. “That’s new”, she giggles before sighing, “I was going to ask you to come up with me but I’m super tired. I’m sorry, oppa”. You pet her head softly, “we’ll get more chances in the future, trust me. I’ll see you for your next practice, okay?”

Today is Tuesday in the third week of her schedule. It's been two weeks since Jiyeon kissed you (well, pecked you on the lips) in front of her building. You helped her secure one of the big classrooms on the 3rd floor last week so that she could have more space to practice. She even asked you to record her practices because she wanted to monitor herself after. Just like week one, you brought her to dinner and took her home after each session, all that while getting to know each other better with every conversation and every bit of skinship.

Today’s practice session has just ended, too. “Oppa, I’m going straight home. You don’t have to buy me dinner”, she says while sitting on the floor and leaning against a wall—“she’s not as high-spirited as usual”, you say in your head. “Can I take you home?”, you offer her as you grab your keys. Jiyeon rejects your offer by shaking her head, “I’ll take the bus and walk after that. Thank you for the offer, though”. You come up to Jiyeon and kneel in front of her to get to her eye level, “are you okay?”. You see on her face that she has a lot of things in mind; “honestly, I’m not. Today was rough”, her deep sigh sends a pang of sadness to your heart, “I don’t feel like talking about it right now, sorry”. She signs to you that she wants to be helped onto her feet, so you stand up and help her up. “We can walk together to the gate, though”, she says.

Jiyeon has been silent the whole way to the gate, and it has become very obvious to you that she’s not feeling well at all—depressing sight, really. It’s a shame that you don’t know who she usually hangs out with because otherwise you’d be able to ask what she likes and get it for her as a small gift next time you see her. “Thank you, oppa. I’ll walk to the bus station, get on a bus, and then continue walking to my building”, she says when you two arrive at the gate. You nod, “I hope you feel better soon. Tell me if I can help you in any way, okay?”. You two exchange goodbyes and go in different directions after.

You just arrive at your apartment and walk straight to the bathroom after dropping your stuff at the door. You stand in the shower wondering what you can do to help Jiyeon feel better. After exploring potential options, you eventually come up with an idea to buy her some chocolate and chips when you see her tomorrow for her last practice before the competition. You hear a chime from your phone as you’re getting out of the shower. When you go check it, it’s a bunch of text messages from Jiyeon.

[Ji Seoyeon❤️| 21:24]

Oppa

I just finished showering, in bed rn

I’m so sorry for being a bitch to you earlier

I’ll see you tomorrow for my last practice

Thank you for being so kind to me all the time <3

You rub your eyes in disbelief—there’s no way she just called herself a bitch. You then form your replies and send it to her.

[You | 21:25]

Hi sweetie

No, you weren’t being a bitch

Don’t call yourself that ever again

It’s okay to not feel well sometimes

I can tell that you’re tired and possibly frustrated

Lmk if I can help

I’ll see you tomorrow, dear <3

Jiyeon sees the text that you sent her; “oh, he can tell I’m not feeling well; was it too obvious?”, she says to herself. “Oppa”, she sighs, “what would I do without you?”. Jiyeon tries to come up with another reply, wanting to express her gratitude and love for you, but then decides against it and chooses to say it to you directly tomorrow. She lies in her bed and feels tears flowing out; “if only you know how grateful I am for you, oppa”, she wipes the tears on her cheeks with her hand, “I will make you mine, oppa; no one else deserves you more than me”.

Every day you wake up and feel a rush of excitement in your heart at the prospect of seeing Jiyeon. You are, however, a bit sad and concerned as this Wednesday is the last day of practice and you’re not sure if she’ll be down to seeing you again after the competition. You have secured the same classroom as yesterday for her to practice in tonight, so at least you have that going for you. You put your worries to the side and promise yourself that you’ll accept whatever outcome you might get today.

You get in the car after showering and putting on an old jersey and shorts, ready to go to the supermarket to get some groceries since you plan on inviting Jiyeon over for dinner, aside from the fact that you’re running out of some items as well. You sincerely hope she doesn’t see this gesture as an attempt to get in her pants, because it really isn’t; you just want to show off your cooking (read: “pasta boiling and cheese grating”) skills to Jiyeon.

Once you get there, you pull out your phone and start getting one item after the other from different aisles of the supermarket. It doesn't take too long to get everything since you’ve categorized the items into the aisles that they’re in. You stop near the meat and fish section and look at your list again to make sure you’re not forgetting anything: dried macaroni and fettucine noodles, unsweetened milk, zero-sugar soda, smoked paprika powder, instant noodles, bok choys, carrots, boneless chicken thighs, mozzare—someone’s tapping your shoulder from behind; “can I help you?”, you say as you turn around to see who it is.

You see that it’s Jiyeon who was trying to get your attention. “Hiiiiiii”, she says excitedly, visibly feeling much better than when you last saw her. You tuck a stray strand of hair on her face behind her ear, “hi, sweetie. What are you doing here?”. She tickles your waist with both hands, “you stole my line, oppaaaa”. “Ahahaha okay, okay, you win—how did you know I’m tickly there?”, you hold Jiyeon by the wrists to stop her from tickling you. “I didn’t, I was just guessing. Glad to know you’re tickly there, though”, she tries freeing her wrists from your hands, so you let her go with no resistance. “No, but seriously, what are you doing here?”, you ask again. She points to her basket that she left near the soap rack, “I am getting some soap, shampoo, and skincare stuff”.

Jiyeon moves in front of you and looks at your trolley; “quite the stuff you have here, oppa”, she comments as she picks up a bag of macaroni from it, “inviting someone over for a meal?”. You’ve been caught for the second time in 3 weeks, all thanks to how sharp of a perception Jiyeon has; “I, um, was actually planning on inviting you over for dinner one day”, you say, scratching the back of your head and feeling embarrassed. “Awww, so sweet”, she puts the bag of macaroni down and continues, “what are we having tonight?”. “I-I’ve been obsessed with mac and cheese, and I wanted to make some for you, as you can tell by the milk and macaroni and mozzarella—oh, I also have some zero-sugar soda for you”, you show her said items you have in your trolley. She nods in approval when she sees the items you’re showing her, “great timing, seriously. I’ve been craving mac and cheese myself. With the way we think alike, we must be meant for each other, oppa”. You turn your head to the right to hide your blush, and you see the assortment of meat in front of you; “oh, hey, I was going to get this”, you pick up a pack of thinly sliced beef before putting it into your trolley, “500 grams a pack, huh? Sounds good”.

You head to the cashier with Jiyeon and pay for your stuff and hers. “I see that you didn’t buy alcohol. Do you not drink, oppa?”, she says. You furrow your eyebrows and shake your head, “I hate the idea of being drunk and possibly not having control of my actions—like what if I did something criminal while being drunk? That would be disastrous for everyone. I know people say ‘well, you can drink responsibly’ but not drinking to begin with is my way of being responsible”, you explain to her. She nods in agreement, “that’s a good approach to it, I think. Come on, let’s get out of here”. You chuckle as the splitting doors of the supermarket close behind you, “and go where, my cute ballerina?”. The realization stops Jiyeon in her tracks—where can you two go together after an impromptu meeting? It’s not lunch time yet, either. Thankfully for Jiyeon, she thinks fast and can come up with plans in an instant; “can I come over, oppa? I would love it if I could chill there until class starts”. “So, I guess we’ll go to your place first to get some stuff? That way you can go to your class from my apartment; it’s closer to campus than yours anyway”, you complete her idea with your own.

You put your stuff in the trunk and start driving to Jiyeon’s apartment. She told you to not come up with her so you wait in your car on the side of the street until she comes out. You scroll through social media for what feels like a few minutes, and that’s when she opens the passenger door and jumps back in. You notice that she only has a small laptop bag, so you make a comment referring to it, “not too busy of a day, I see”. “Mm-hmm”, she says, “two classes, 3 credits each. There’s a reason I’ve been practicing on Wednesdays, you see. Start driving, oppa; I want to chill in your apartment right meow”.

“Welcome to my apartment. Please make yourself at home”, you say as you open the door for her. She walks straight in after taking off her shoes but not her socks; “oi, oi, not so fast”, you call out to her, “socks off, please—you can wear these sandals”. She timidly jogs back to where you are and grabs the sandals from your hands, “sorry, I got too excited”. “Excited for what? There are barely things here”, you ask her. She pouts cutely and points at the sofa in front of the TV, “that thing looks soooooo soft, oppa. Can I lie down on it, pleaaaaase?”. You pet her head softly to encourage her, “go on, dear. I’ll get you a blanket”. “Yay!”, she enthusiastically runs to the sofa and lies down on it, “my God, this is sooo comfortable”. You return to her with a spare blanket and cover her with it, “it gets pretty cold in this apartment, so I’ll cover you with this so that you don’t freeze—I imagine a frozen ballerina wouldn’t be able to perform well on stage”. She accepts your gesture with a smile, and only now do you realize how sweet Jiyeon’s smile is; “I will do everything I can to protect that smile, sweetie”, you promise to yourself.

You take a seat on the armchair next to the sofa and pull out your phone, “what time is your class? Would you like to eat something now?”. She sighs as she turns to lie on her side, “1 pm, oppa. I would love to eat something but I’m also sleepy so please let me sleep here for a few hours and wake me up at 12:15”. She closes her eyes immediately after saying that, so you make your way to your bedroom and chill there until 12:15. You decide to get some extra sleep after setting an alarm at 12:10 and 12:15 to make sure Jiyeon won’t be late to her class.

In your sleep, you feel like a weight has been put on top of your body thus making it hard for you to breathe. As an attempt to keep your goofy ass alive, your brain shakes you awake. “Huh?”, you mumble softly with only half of your consciousness in your body. “Oh, it’s Jiyeon”, your brain says as it closes your eyes to go back to sleep—“WAIT, IT’S JIYEON!”, the discovery sends shock to your body. You don’t want to disturb her peace, though, so you calm your breathing and stay still. You dare wrap your arms around her body, and she lets out a soft hum in response; “I hope she won’t kick me in the balls when she wakes up”, you quietly pray to whatever heavenly being is looking down on the both of you.

You slowly unwrap your arm and grab your phone to look at the time; 12:02, it says. As soon as you return your arm to its previous position, Jiyeon wakes up from her slumber and looks at you with heavy eyes. “Hi, darling”, you greet the girl on top of you. “Why did you leave me, oppa?”, she rests her head on your chest again. “I’m sorry, sweetie. I just wanted to lie on the bed until 12:15”, you pet her head to apologize. She looks at you and pinches your cheek playfully, “well, you should’ve carried me to bed with you. It was cold on the sofa, you know?”. A pang of guilt strikes you—your mom would kill you 3 times over for leaving a girl in the cold like that; “I’m so sorry, dear, but I wouldn’t do such thing without your consent”. “It’s okay, I trust you even in my sleep”, she says before sighing, “what time is this?”. You look at your phone one more time, “um, 12:03—no, 12:04”.

She lifts her torso off your body and pulls you into a sitting position with her still on your lap, “please keep me warm, oppa”. You take her hand and notice that she is indeed cold, so you hug her tighter to keep her warm. “Oppa”, she pokes you in the cheek, “you’re not angry that I suddenly jumped on your body like that, are you? Please don’t be angry, I’m sorry”. “No, I’m not angry at all”, you clarify, “I should be the one apologizing for leaving you in the cold”. She pulls away from the hug and gives you a fleeting kiss, “promise me that you won’t leave me again, ever”. You take her pinky in yours, “I promise, sweetie”.

“Oppa, do you not have classes today?”, she says as she puts on her shoes. “I don’t but I’m meeting some of Professor’s Kim students at 5 pm. One of them texted me yesterday asking me to help them with a project”, you walk to the door where she is, “do you want to walk, or do you want me to drive you there?”. “5 pm is still a few hours away so you should just stay here, I’ll walk”, she waves at you, “I’ll see you for tonight’s practice?”. You nod and she walks out of the door right away. You chase her and grab her wrist, “you forgot something”. She turns to you in confusion, “what?”. “This”, you lean forward and kiss her, “you forgot my kiss”. “Oh my God, I hate you so much”, she blushes and starts running away, “I’ll see you later!”.

The little meeting with Professor’s Kim students is done, which leaves you one last thing to do tonight: watch Jiyeon’s last practice. “Same place as yesterday, dear”, you send a text to her, and she sends you a thumbs-up emoji as a reply. You continue scrolling through social media until you hear the door swing open. Jiyeon is wearing a black tank top and grey training pants, and you can’t help but drop your jaw; “respectfully, you look so attractive right now”, you comment. She smirks, “that was the plan, glad it works”. Your eyes widen in shock, “pardon?”. “You didn’t hear anything”, she says, “let’s practice, shall we?”. She hands you her phone and tells you to play whatever song because “being predictable is boring” (her words, not yours) so you do as she asks and pick a random song.

It takes her one second to recognize the song and start her routine. It starts with a clap of hands, which makes you jump in your seat a little due to the suddenness. Her moves, combined with how she’s dressed, show you all the details of her curves, but you’re trying to not have a boner right now. As you keep watching, however, you start getting more emotional than horny—you managed to not cry during the previous sessions but it’s very hard not to today for some reason. You lock in and pay attention with every cell of your brain, until you see her make a specific move with her hand and tears instantly drop onto your cheeks like the first time you watched her—unlike last time, however, you’re not shy to cry in front of her. You decide to savor the emotions and cry your heart out until you have no tears left. “My God, I’m such a loser”, you say to yourself.

You’re too busy crying that you don’t notice that the song has ended. “Crying again, oppa?”, she approaches you to check on you. “Ye-yeah, sorry”, you wipe your tears so that you can see her clearly. She pulls you to your feet and hugs you, “I was starting to think that you didn’t like me enough to cry”, she says. You take a deep breath to compose yourself, “you’re out of your mind; there’s no way I can stop liking you”. You feel her pat your back to help you calm yourself, “I like you too, oppa”.

The tears finally stop flowing after a few seconds, so you ask her to let go of the hug. You sit your ass back down while she walks to her stuff. “Here, oppa: your VVIP ticket”, she hands you a ticket with your name and seat number on it, “don’t lose this, please. I’ll never talk to you again if you do”. You sniffle before talking back, “thank you, sweetie. I’ll make sure I arrive early”. She walks away from you and tells you to play another song, so you close your eyes and pick randomly again. “Aaaaah, that’s the same song, oppa. Play a different one without closing your eyes this time”, she says with a pout. “Oh, sorry”, you scroll quickly to the bottom of the playlist and choose whatever. “There we go; now watch me”, she says as she starts another routine.

Jiyeon immediately collapses on the floor after that last routine. Sensing that something is wrong, you run to her and see that her eyes are closed but her mouth is open. “Baby, baby? Are you okay? Say something, love—holy shit, what is happening right now?”, pet names fly out of your lips as you panic. You carry her in your arms and run out of the classroom to find help. As you do, you hear her mumble something weakly; “oppa, oppa”. You start running faster after hearing a sign of life from Jiyeon; “hold on, baby; I’m getting some help for you”. You then hear a giggle from her, “oppa, I’m okay. I was just messing with you”. You drop to your knees right away, “oh my fucking—that wasn’t funny, you know? I thought you passed out from exhaustion or something”. She frees herself from your arms and pecks you on the cheek, “I mean I was exhausted, but I’m fine. I’m glad that you were quick to take action, who knows when I might need that”. You get on your feet and pull her up after, “you’re lucky I exercise often, otherwise I wouldn’t be able to carry you and run that fast at the same time like that”. She giggles, “yeah I had a sneak peek at how fit you are thanks to that jersey you wore at the supermarket—very attractive, I must say”.

“Fuck, that was scary—so what now?”, you ask her with heavy pants. “Let’s get our stuff and get out of here. I want to go home and get as much rest as I can”, she says. “Sure, I’ll wait for you in the car”, you walk in the other direction to get to the parking lot.

You get a bottle of water from the trunk and finish it right away to cope with the exhaustion and panic caused by Jiyeon’s little act. “That’s the fastest I’ve seen someone drink out of a bottle”, Jiyeon remarks as she approaches you, “I’m sorry, oppa. I didn’t mean to make you panic like that”. You wave her off, “it’s okay, sweetie. I’m glad that you’re okay because I would’ve lost my shit otherwise. Let’s get you home now, alright?”. You get in the car followed by Jiyeon and start driving to take her home.

“Oppa, we probably won’t see each other until after the competition is finished”, she says when you two are standing outside her building. You pet her head, “it’s okay, sweetie. You know where I sit so look at me if you can, okay?”. She gets on her tippy toes, and the height difference makes you laugh. “Aaaaaah, kiss me alreadyyyyyy”, she complains cutely. You grab her chin and pull her closer to you before kissing her passionately. “I love you, baby. See you on Saturday, okay?”. She seems to be satisfied with the kiss, as seen by how she’s blushing, “I love you too, oppa. See you on Saturday”.

Saturday has finally come and there’s only one thing in your mind right now: watch Jiyeon perform at the competition. You grab your phone as soon as you wake up and text her right away.

[You | 08:03]

Good luck, baby

I’m rooting for you

If it wasn’t obvious already

She replies to your messages as soon as you send them.

[Ji Seoyeon❤️| 08:03]

I’m nervous, oppa

Pray for your baby girl

Love you too

You smack your forehead at the realization that you forgot to say “I love you” but you know—or hope, rather—that she knows that already. You jump off the bed and get ready to get a shower, and that’s when you hear another notification.

[Ji Seoyeon❤️| 08:03]

You owe me dinner btw

[You | 08:03]

I know

I hope you like mac and cheese

You have about 10 hours to kill before you need to leave to watch Jiyeon, so you decide to clean your apartment first. You make sure to that everything is spotless because you plan on inviting Jiyeon over for dinner tonight, and should everything go smoothly, formally confess your love to her, in case it hasn’t been made clear multiple times.

After cleaning everything, you decide to hop on your laptop and catch up with the outside world. Email from Professor Kim about your payment as TA; answered, email from a sophomore apologizing for missing your class; answered, email from Professor Min thanking you for helping her students; answered. You scroll through your inbox and see that none is left unanswered, so you decide to play some video games—you want to rank up on TFT but haven’t got the time to play that much recently.

You eventually got sick of playing after 3 games, so you decide to get some nap since you have plenty of time left in the day. In your sleep, you’re shown a dream where Jiyeon is running to you with a trophy in hand before jumping into your arms for a hug. “Oppa, we did it! We won!”, she says, and you can’t help but bawl your eyes out—such pleasant dream, isn’t it? You hope that it’s a good sign for what’s coming today.

You arrive at the venue at 18:06 and head straight in. A staff greets you at the entrance of the hall and asks you to show him your ticket. You do as he asks and he then escorts you to your seat—“must be VVIP treatment”, you think as you’re led to your seat. You take a seat that he points at and pull out your phone; less than an hour left until the show starts, your phone tells you. Your phone also tells you that you have some incoming texts from Jiyeon.

[Ji Seoyeon❤️| 18:10]

I see a pretty boy in a suit sitting in the front row

He’s soooo cuteeeee

Very tall too, my God

No one else has arrived yet so you know that she’s referring to you, but you can’t see her anywhere so you give up trying to spot her instantly. You smile at your phone while reading her texts and she follows up with some more.

[Ji Seoyeon❤️| 18:10]

Look at him, he’s smiling!!!!

Omg I love him so damn much <3 <3 <3

His bae is a lucky girl for sure

You cover your mouth with a hand to muffle an excited squeal. You finally manage to form some replies of your own after calming yourself down.

[You | 18:11]

I can’t with you

You’re driving me insane

[Ji Seoyeon❤️| 18:11]

Oh, it’s you!!!!

Thank you for coming!!!! <3

You shake your head and shove your phone back in your pocket because one more exchange will surely send your heart to overdrive. You need to lock in soon so that you can wholeheartedly and wholebrainedly—that’s not a word, is it—pay attention to her performance later.

15 minutes before the performances start and the venue is now packed with people. You hear from the MC that Jiyeon will be the last one performing; “favorites go last all the time”, you say to yourself. Before you forget, you pull out a handkerchief from your suit jacket and set it on your lap because it’s guaranteed that you’re going to weep while watching her.

One by one contestant performs and now it’s Jiyeon’s turn to take the stage and make everyone weep (yes, you are that confident of her skills). Your jaw drops the instant she walks out; she’s wearing a white tutu and matching pointe shoes—a literal embodiment of a swan. She makes eye contact with you for a second before turning her gaze to the rest of the crowd, and that’s when the cheering erupts; “oh, she’s famous, huh?”, you hear your brain say. She then moves to the side and waits until the song starts; “I’m so fucking cooked”, you think to yourself.

The truth cannot be any further right now, as you feel tears gather in your eyes as soon as she starts her routine. She’s barely making expressions, but you really feel the emotions that she’s conveying through every small movement. As you keep paying attention, you’re promptly reminded of how hard she’s worked for these sorts of moments, not only in the past few weeks, but also in her entire life. Combine that with the way she’s moving on stage, you can’t help but open the dam and let the tears flow. She’s not making eye contact with you because she wants to stay concentrated, and that’s helpful for you because you’re not presentable at all right now.

You wish you weren’t such a crybaby because you otherwise would be able to enjoy her performance, but you’re also glad that you’re able to feel these emotions and savor every second of it. You wipe your eyes with your handkerchief before looking back at her and murmuring to yourself, “I’m so proud of you, my little swan. Thank you for being in my life and thank you for showing me such gracefulness that very few can see with their own eyes”. You ball up your fists to cheer for her, but your brain manages to bridle your body in time before you can start shouting, thus saving you from embarrassment; “this ain’t basketball, you fucking idiot”, it yells at you.

Her performance ends with her getting on her knees while bending back, and the crowd instantly erupts behind you. You feel a surge of emotions in your heart, and you decide to let all the tears go into the handkerchief; “what is this feeling and who am I to be so lucky?”, you say. You feel the elderly man next to you put a hand on your shoulder and pat you on the back, “I wondered the same thing when I was your age, son, and I still don’t have an answer to this day”. You sniffle before saying anything back, “I can’t describe what I’m feeling right now, sir”. He pulls you to him and makes you rest your head on his shoulder, “There’s no need for that, son. Just enjoy it as much as you can, for we are a lucky bunch”. You’ve never heard such wisdom from someone before, so you ask him who he is. “I’m no one important, boy—definitely not as important as that girl on stage to you”, he says. “I love her, sir”, you reveal to him. He rubs you on the back with his palm several times as he laughs, “I know, son. I know”.

You look up and see that Jiyeon is looking back at you, so you do your best to give her the sincerest smile you’ve ever shown to anyone; “I’m so proud of you”, you mouth to her. She returns your smile twice as splendidly before heading backstage. The MC comes back out and announces that we’ll be taking a 10-minute break before announcing the winners, so you take this opportunity to leave your seat and head to the bathroom to freshen up after weeping your heart out.

You were a bit late to return and see that all the contestants are now standing next to each other on stage, so you rush to your seat and tune back in. “We will now be announcing the 3rd place, 2nd place, and the 1st place winners”, the MC says. You close your eyes and pray to whatever sacred being that might be listening to you right now. “Coming in the third place”, she pauses, “Miss Noh Yunah!”. You sigh in relief, “oh God, okay, top 2, baby. Let’s go”. The MC suggests an idea to announce the 2nd and 1st place; “would the attendants prefer to hear the 1st place winner before the 2nd?”, she says, and the crowd seems to agree with that idea.

“Right, so here’s what we’re going to do, Miss Ji Seoyeon and Miss Choi Jihyun: I’m going to say the name of the first-place winner and whoever doesn’t hear her name is the second-place winner”, she explains, and the two girls nod in acknowledgment. “The winner of the competition is”, she fucking pauses again, “Miss”—for the love of God, do it already—“Ji Seoyeon!”. You open your eyes and see that Jiyeon has dropped onto her knees while crying, and you have no choice but to cry again with her. “Congratulations, son”, the elderly man says as he shakes your hand, “treat the miss to dinner after this, okay?”. Your brain can’t come up with words to say, so you just nod while shaking his hand emotionally.

The contestants went backstage a few minutes ago, and some people in the crowd are now talking among themselves while some others opt to leave. You feel your phone vibrate in your pocket, so you pull it out and see that Jiyeon has sent you some texts.

[Ji Seoyeon❤️| 20:24]

Oppa

I’m glad I could win it for you

Can I come over after this?

Pretty please?

[Ji Seoyeon❤️| 20:24]

Congratulations, love

I’m glad I got to watch you perform

You slayed btw

I’ll wait for you in the car, bby

You turn to the man next to you and bid your farewell, “thank you so much for tonight, sir. I will be taking my leave now”. “Thank you to you as well, son. May I offer you some advice?”, he says, and you nod in response, “try not to obscure your feelings; embrace them, savor them, share them with those you love. Believe me when I say that you won’t regret it—emotions are the colors of life, you see”. In your heart, you envy and yearn for such wisdom, but you realize that it takes a lifetime to be that wise. “Thank you, sir. I will keep that in mind. Have a good night”.

You stand up from your seat and start making your way to the parking lot after talking to the man. When you get to the parking lot, you see that Jiyeon is already waiting for you. She drops her stuff on the ground and hugs you; “oppa, I love you. I love you so fucking much, oppa”, she confesses in case it wasn’t clear already. You take the man’s advice to heart and embrace the emotions you’re feeling right now, “I love you so much as well, baby. I’m so proud of you”. She presser her head against your chest and conveys her request, “take me to your place, oppa. I want to spend the night in your embrace. Let’s leave now, oppa—please, I’m begging you”. You peck her forehead and pull away from the hug, “alright, sweetie. Let’s go now”.

You enter your apartment with Jiyeon and swap your shoes for the indoor sandals. She pulls your hand, forcing you to turn to her direction before kissing you. Jiyeon goes further and fight your tongue with hers. You find her passion to be overwhelming, so you break the kiss to take a breather. “Oppa, why did you pull away? You didn’t like it?”, she asks. “I did like it, but I first need to know how far we’re going tonight”, you tell her. You can’t tell what the smile on her face means when she says that you two are going all the way.

“Can I take you to the bedroom?”, you ask her, and she nods to your question. You carry her bridal style like that time she “passed out” after practice. You set her down on the bed and that’s when she makes another confession; “this is my first time, oppa”, she tells you. “Are you sure that you want to give your first to me?”, you ask her. “Only if you promise to never leave me again”, she says. You tell her your promise and start kissing her lustfully, as it’s now your tongue that’s fighting hers. She takes your hand and guides it to her crotch; thus, you feel her wetness through her jogger pants. You pull away from the kiss once more and ask her, “on a scale of 1 to 10, how ready do you think you are?”. “24”, she says, “now please take care of me”. You’re not sure why she picks such particular number, but you roll with it anyway.

You grab the waistband of her pants and pull down after getting her consent, and you’re met with her bare pussy. “No panties, hm? No wonder I could feel how wet you were through your pants”, you ask her. She shrugs, “I figured it would be faster this way, and it is. Continue, please”. You then move your hands to the hem of her white sleeveless T-shirt and roll it over her head, exposing her covered tits to the bedroom air. “It would be even faster if you weren’t wearing bras as well”, you tease her. She pouts cutely, “and what if someone saw? Do you really want your girl to run around while being exposed like that?”.

You pull her into a hug and unclasp her bras before letting go, and you’re shown her perfectly perky bare tits. “They’re yours, oppa”, she says as she guides your hands to her tits. You start fondling her tits in your hands and it causes her to start moaning softly. Seeing that she’s enjoying it, you latch your mouth onto one of them and start sucking without letting up the stimulation on the other one. “Oppa, you like them—AHHHH, OPPA”, she screams when you not-so-lightly tug her nipple. “Can’t let the other one go forgotten”, you say as you move your mouth to the other breast. She holds the back of your head with both hands and press your head against her tits; “that’s-that’s—ahh, ngh”, her words are cut short by a moan.

She finally pushes your head away from her tits after letting you play with them for a few minutes. “You-you’re not fair, oppa”, she says, panting, “why aren’t you naked like me?”. You look down on yourself and see that you still have all your clothes on. “Apologies, my love. I got carried away”, you get off the bed and take your sweet time to take one item off at a time, unveiling your muscular body little by little for the girl in your bed. You’re finally done taking everything off but the boxers, “would you like to do the honors, princess?”, you ask Jiyeon. “Uh, umm, I-I think you should take them off yourself”, the antsy girl says before biting her lips. You do as she says and take off your boxers in one smooth motion, and Jiyeon immediately turns her gaze to look at the big, erect parcel between your legs. She looks away to get your cock out of her sight and asks you to make another promise, “pro-promise me you won’t hurt me, oppa”. You rub the back of her hand to soothe her, “I promise, love. We will do this on your pace, okay? Make yourself comfortable, please”.

She lies flat on her back and opens her arms, “come here, oppa”. You enter her warm embrace and pepper her face with pecks. “Aaaaah, oppa, stoooop”, she tries to halt your barrage of pecks. You hover your face above hers and offer her some sweet words, “I love you, baby. My baby. My white swan”. She blushes as she puts her hands on your cheeks, “I love you too, oppa. I love you with my life”. “Baby, I want to tell you something”, you make a confession of your own, “I have never done this before—I didn’t speak accordingly because I wanted to help you not be nervous. I apologize for pretending and I also apologize should my naïveté shows”. “Awww”, she coos, “we’re each other’s first, aren’t we? That makes this even more special, oppa”.

Since the confessions are now out of the way, you dive into another kiss—a kiss so heavenly and heartfelt to tell Jiyeon how much you love her. She smiles warmly after pulling away and breaking the kiss, “I love you, oppa, and I know you love me too. Now please take care of me”. You move a strand of hair from her face, “I’m so sorry but I don’t have a condom, love; I’m a virgin just like you”. She runs her thumb back and forth on your cheek, “We won’t need that;you’re my only one, oppa—my first and my last. Just promise me that you’ll be gentle; make me yours and I’ll stay by your side until the end of time”. You feel a stray tear on your cheek and wipe it right away, “I’m sorry, cutie. Your words are just so sweet—you are so sweet”. She smiles gently hearing your words, “we’re about to find out what having sex with the person you truly love is like, oppa. I’m excited but also nervous to give you my first”.

You peck her forehead before straightening your back to get ready for the action. “Do you consent, precious?”, you ask as you line up your cock with her untouched entrance. “I do” is response, nice and concise. You start moving forward into her pussy, and as soon as your cock is 1/3 of the way in, Jiyeon screams from the top of her lungs. “Oppa, oppa—ngh, fu—hold me, please—hug me, oppa”, she says to you with troubled breathing. You lay on top of Jiyeon and hug her tightly, “I’m here, baby; I’m here for you. I’ll stop moving so let’s relax a bit, okay?”.

After taking a few seconds to catch her breath, she signals to you to start moving again. You move your pelvis forward until you feel the entirety of your cock lodged in her pussy, as you take her virginity and give her yours in return. “Ngh, ngh—op-oppa, you’re so big—oh my God, you’re tearing me in half”, she says. You peck her temple as you start pumping her, “you’re so tight, baby; you’re literally squeezing me”. She yelps when your cock hits her deepest end, “I th-ink that’s my cervix, oppa—ahh, fuck—how are you so fucking deep, oppa?”. You’d be lying if you said her words didn’t inflate your ego, but you just want to keep fucking her right now and this position doesn’t really allow that. Jiyeon panics when you try to pull away from the hug; “no, no, no—oh, mmh—keep me in your arms, oppa. I’m begging you—fuck—plea-please”, she says.

You latch your mouth onto her neck and start sucking and nibbling as you maintain the pace and depth of your thrusts, earning moans from Jiyeon that sound like a melody from the heavens. “Op-pa—aah, hng—some-something is coming. I-I can feel it”, she says after taking a lot (like, a lot) of pumps from you. You unlatch your mouth for a second so that you can answer her; “yes, baby. I feel it too, I think”.

“AH, OPPA, I’M-I’M GOING TO EXPLODE!”, she shrieks with all her might as her pussy puts you in such a chokehold (or cockhold, rather) that it’s almost painful to you. You remove your mouth from her neck and see that Jiyeon’s entire body is shaking and trembling as she keeps screaming her lungs out. She finally stops screaming after her high has subsided; “hah, hah—wha-what was that? I-I felt like I was on cloud nine and then I’m back in your arms”, she says, her breaths mixed with pants. You chuckle at her description of what just happened, “is it better to be on cloud nine or in my arms?”. She pulls you down for a kiss before giving you an answer, “I like being in my boyfriend’s arm much, much better”. “Boyfriend, hm?”, you smile at her, “I love the way you say that; it makes me feel loved, you know”. “That is because I truly love you, oppa, and nothing can sway me from loving you”, she says.

“Jiyeon, my baby”, you say to her, “I’m sorry, but can we continue? I think I’m pretty close as well”. “We can, oppa, but first”, she holds your head and looks at you in the eyes, “I want you to start calling me Seoyeon from now on; it’s not like you’ll mistake me for Yoon Seoyeon-sunbaenim, is it?”. “No, there’s no way I’ll ever mistake you for Yoon Seoyeon. My heart is yours, not Yoon Seoyeon’s”, you say before resuming your rhythmic thrusting. Jiyeon—or Seoyeon, rather—starts moaning again and it serves as fuel for you to keep going and chase your own orgasm.

“Seoyeon, my swan—fuck, so tight—do you want me to pull out when I cum?”, you ask her. “If you pull out, I will cut your penis off and feed it to a cat”, Seoyeon threatens you. “Oh, fuck, please don’t. We wouldn’t be able to do this again if you did”, you say, intimidated by her words. “Good, now don’t—OH MY GOD, THAT IS SO FUCKING HOT”, her words are cut off by your cock’s abrupt explosion and the sudden flood of semen in her pussy. “My God, I just came in her pussy”, you think to yourself as you pant from the high that your orgasm is giving you. “Oppa-oppa, was that—whoa, fuck—was that your orgasm?”, Seoyeon wonders. In your exhausted and high state, you just nod to her question; “you gave me your first ever orgasm, oppa? You’ve never watched porn and had an orgasm before, have you? Please say no”, Seoyeon says. You shake your head, “I have—hah, fuck—I have never watched porn ever in my life. What the fuck kind of question is that? Sure-surely you don’t think that low of me—oh my goodness, I’m tired”. “Sorry, please don’t be mad”, she rubs your cheek, “it was a genuine question, oppa. I’m-I’m glad that you’ve never watched porn—”. You cut her off by placing a finger on her lips, “please, let’s not talk about that right now”.

You pull away from her embrace and straighten your back to look at your work; “wait, there’s supposed to be blood, isn’t there?”, you ask yourself as you look at your cock and her leaking pussy. “Oppa, I know what you’re thinking”, Seoyeon says with a tiny voice, “you must be wondering about the lack of blood considering that it’s my first time”. You turn your gaze to her without saying anything, which makes Seoyeon nervous; “I-I can explain, oppa, but I need you to trust me because I am not lying at all”, she says. You take a moment to calm your pants before talking back, “of course, darling. Fire away”. “Where do I start—ah, fuck it, I’ll just tell you the end bit”, she says, “I lost my hymen in an accident, oppa. Please, please believe me when I say that you’re my first, because you really are”.

You stay quiet and take a second to process the news that she just delivered, and that’s when she starts shedding tears. “You-you don’t believe me, do you? You’re disappointed because it’s your first, aren’t you? It-It’s okay if you don’t believe me and want to leave me, oppa; heaven knows I’m being honest”, she says as tears are freely flowing out of her eyes. The instant surge of guilt in your heart leads you to jump and take her into your arms again. “I believe you, my love—I really do. I just wanted some time to process your words; I’m sorry for not saying anything right away”, you say right to her ear. Her crying makes it hard for her to speak but she pushes through anyway, “please, please don’t leave me, oppa. I-I don’t know what I would do with-out you. Please, oppa, I’m begging you to stay with me”. You hug her tighter and give her your promise, “I will not leave you, baby; not now, not tomorrow, not next week, never. I need you as much as you need me, precious. Trust me, please. Let’s calm down, okay? I’m here for you, honey”.

It took a while for Seoyeon to finally calm down and stop crying. It was really painful for you to see Seoyeon cry from such a close distance, but it didn’t stop you from giving her the assurance and comfort that she needed. “Baby”, you call out to Seoyeon after noticing that her sobs have died down, “feeling better?”. She hums in response, “feeling hungry, too—wait, you promised me you’d make mac and cheese for me. Can we have mac and cheese now, oppa? Pleaaaaaase?”. “There she is, back to who she really is”, you say in your head. “We can, baby. Let’s get dressed first and then I’ll make some for us, okay?”, you pull her off the bed and onto her feet before heading to the wardrobe to get some clothes. You hand Seoyeon an old set of jersey and shorts as you’re reminded of her underwear situation, “I know you didn’t wear panties earlier but surely you brought them with you, right?”. Seoyeon chuckles in response, “of course I did, oppa; it’s in my bag. I’m not that naughty, you know?”. “Right”, you scratch the back of your head in awkwardness, “I’ll, uh, start cooking now”.

You head to the fridge and take all the ingredients necessary: milk, cheese, sausage, and broc—wait, not broccoli; mac and cheese isn’t supposed to be healthy. You take the scale out of the cupboard and weigh 100 grams of macaroni (taken from the cupboard as well), 50 grams of grated cheddar, and 50 grams of cubed mozzarella. You hear Seoyeon’s sandals approaching, so you call out to her, “baby, there’s zero-sugar soda in the fridge for you”. “I’ll save that for later, oppa. I’ll just get some water right now”, she says as she walks to the dispenser and refills her bottle. “Can I help with anything?”, she asks after taking a gulp of water. You point to the milk and ask her to pour out exactly 250 ml into a measuring cup. As Seoyeon does that, you pour some water into a pot and wait for it to boil.

“Love, go have a seat. I’ll take care of this”, you tell Seoyeon who’s still hovering near the stove area. “Promise me you won’t burn this place down”, she jumps and pecks you on the cheek before sitting at the table. “You’re making me make a lot of promises today, love”, you tease her. “Aaaaaah, but they’re for our own good, oppaaaaa”, she whines and crosses her arms, “I hate you so much, hmph”. Seeing that you’re not responding to her stunt, Seoyeon walks up to you from behind and tickles you. “Baby, I’m cooking—ahahaha, okay, okay; you win, I’m sorry. Now please get back to your seat”. Seoyeon does as you ask and sits down at the table again.

The water is now boiling, so you throw the macaroni into it and start a timer on your phone for 8 minutes. Since you have some time to kill, you decide to kiss Seoyeon and do more skinship with her and talk about some stuff until the timer runs out. Before you know it (because you’re so absorbed in the moment), you hear your phone ring, and you rush to turn the timer off and drain the macaroni.

You throw a tablespoon of butter into the pot and let it melt before adding in a tablespoon of flour. You then quickly but gradually add milk into the mix before it sticks to the pot. You turn your gaze to the counter and notice that the cheese is missing. “Seoyeon, darling, do you know where the cheese is?”, you ask your swan. “Oh, I brought it with me to the table, sorry. Here, oppa”, she hands you the two cups of cheese and you throw them into the pot and stir rapidly until it’s nice and smooth. “Here go the mac and sausage”, you announce to yourself, earning a chuckle from Seoyeon. Once everything is mixed together, you turn off the stove and mix in a tablespoon of salt, pepper, smoked paprika, and chili powder. You then take two bowls and split the mac and cheese into two as equally as you can and bring it to the table.

“This looks good, oppa”, Seoyeon says as she takes a spoonful of mac and cheese and shoves it into her mouth, “oooh, very nice. Not as salty as when I made it myself that one time”. You follow her and put a spoonful into your mouth. The taste makes you let out a satisfied moan, and it triggers a comment from Seoyeon, “we’re eating, oppa, not having sex—do you want to have sex again, by any chance?”. As tempting as it sounds, you choose to ignore her comment for now, “this is nice, no? I love it”. You miss a glare that Seoyeon sends you because you’re too busy eating, but that’s a problem for later.

“Thank you for the meal, oppa. Can I borrow a toothbrush now?”, Seoyeon says. You tell her that you keep spare toothbrushes in the bathroom cabinet and that she can get one from there. She heads to the bathroom to brush her teeth while you wash the dishes.

As soon as you’re done, you hear Seoyeon call out to you from the bathroom, so you knock on the door, and she opens it for you. “What is it, baby?”, you ask her. She says nothing and shoves you backwards until you’re seated on the toilet. “Really, oppa? I offered you to do round 2 and you just ignored me? Is that how we will do things from now on, oppa?”, Seoyeon interrogates you and you can’t help but feel like a criminal. A short “I’m sorry” is all you can come up with, and Seoyeon is visibly not satisfied with your apology. “Take off your shorts and boxers, now”, she says. You never thought a girl so cute could be so intimidating, but here you are. You do as she commands and take them off, revealing your cock to her for the second time tonight.

“Please don’t ignore me like that again, oppa; it makes me sad, you know”, she says as she gets on her knees and holds your cock in one hand. “Can you get hard again, please? I want to make you orgasm again”, she strokes your cock with both hands to compensate with the girth. “Baby, what are you planning to do?”, you say with a sigh at the end. “This”, she says as she takes you in her mouth, her jaws are as wide open as they can be. You thought that this sight couldn’t get better until Seoyeon looks at you in the eyes as your cock is in her mouth. “Seoyeon-ah, you’re so good”, you forgot to say the pet name so she bites your cock slightly to express her dissatisfaction. “Oh, fuck, fuck. I’m so sorry, love. Please don’t kill me”, you say.

She gives you a wink and starts bobbing her head up and down your shaft, making you throw your head back and moan in bliss. She gets impatient as she goes down too deep and chokes on your cock. The little accident doesn’t seem to deter her, though, as she keeps going up and down a little bit more carefully this time. “You’re doing so good, dear—my fucking God, that’s so nice”, you praise her efforts, and she gives you a thumbs-up in return.

“Can I ask you to go faster, baby?”, you ask Seoyeon, whose mouth is full of your cock. She gives you a subtle nod and starts moving faster and gagging occasionally. You hold the back of her head when she tries to pull away and start fucking her mouth—not too hard, though. You don’t want to take things too far just yet. “God, baby; your mouth feels so good—oh, I’m getting so close again”, you tell her. You feel her repeatedly tap your thighs, so you pull out of her mouth in response. “Are you okay, sweetie?”, you ask the panting girl as you pet her head. “That was too much, oppa. Let me do it at my own pace, please”, Seoyeon says as she wipes her mouth.

You agree to let her do as she pleases and sit back. Seoyeon pecks the tip for your cock—which sensation makes you gasp in surprise—and goes down on your cock again. You lean back against the backrest of the toilet and close your eyes to fully savor the sensation that her mouth is giving you. You can tell that she’s focused and determined to make you cum for the second time tonight, and you don’t miss your chance to praise her efforts. “Love, you’re so good; such a good girl, aren’t you?”, you stroke her head before letting out a groan.

“Oh, God—baby, I think I’m gonna blow again”, you warn her. At your warning, she removes you from her mouth and strokes your cock. “Give it to me again, oppa”, she says to you. You moan loudly as the second load of the night jets out of the tip of your cock. Seoyeon collects as much of it as she can with her hands; “how do you still have so much, oppa? How much do you have in there?”, she says, fascination and curiosity woven in her voice. “I think that’s all I have today”, you tell her, “thank you so much, baby. I really enjoyed that”. She dips a finger in the pool of cum in her hands and puts it in her mouth, “it tastes weird. I’m not putting this in my mouth, sorry”. You weakly point to the sink, “you don’t need to; go wash your hands, honey”.

You carry Seoyeon back to bed after the little bonus session in the bathroom. She’s now lying limb on top of you like that afternoon when she jumped on you. “Oppa”, she begins, “I love you. Don’t leave me ever, please”. You weave your pinky with hers and say your pledge, “I will never leave you, my beautiful swan. I love you”. “Oh, yeah, about that”, Seoyeon lifts her head off your chest, “why swan, oppa?”. You hold her chin in your hand, “the way you were moving so gracefully and elegantly, combined with how you were dressed, made me think of a white swan that’s pacing peacefully around a calm lake”. Seoyeon rests her head on your chest again, “I like that idea, oppa. Thank you”. You shake your head in disagreement, “no, love; thank you. Thank you for letting me enter your life and love you like this—I’m so grateful for us, baby”. You feel a tear drop from her cheeks and onto your T-shirt, “I’m so grateful for us as well, oppa. My world is bleak without you next to me”.

#girl group smut #kpop smut #triples smut

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heroictoonz · 2 days

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king I've been putting off a rewatch of s15-17 for ages do u think its worth it

My instinct is so say no save yourself but like jokes aside I think that’s up to you like, I always said that they gave the RvBs a “bad ending” and that they ruined Tucker’s character post Chorus however, that was back when season 16 was literally first coming out

Flash back here but so when s16 was coming out I was just getting more and more upset with the writing of the show especially and honestly almost specifically Tucker. Somewhere near the end of s16 I stopped watching (didn’t even finish the season) and then after a bit I heard that the next season was gonna revolve around whole new characters

Now this, I only recently learned was weird miscommunication. See I’m trash ass shit at keeping up with news of shit even shit that I like so for the longest time I thought the story of this group I’ve been following since I was a teenager ended at s16 which KILLED me inside so I swore off the rest of the show and vowed to never watch it. Instead I mostly just rewatched Chorus or s1-s13 if I wanted to rewatch the “whole” show. Basically just watching till the end of Chorus and stopping. Every time I tried to go rewatch s15 to mmmaybe finish the show I kept remember how bad things got and kept running away

I’m gonna give some vague spoilers from here on out but it’s cause I do genuinely wanna talk about how I feel having literally only a few minutes ago finished s16 and s17 for the first time

I decided to finish RvB LITERALLY last night like no joke and it’s cause I saw spoilers out of context for s19 and I was like fuck it I need to see what the hell that is show is over anyways might as well finish it. So I am doing that now

I rewatched/finished s16 and fucking hated it. The good parts were Wash being cute and silly and my favorite guy ever of all time and forever. There’s also Grif and this character named Huggins they’re like on god one of my new brotps of all time damn RvB writes some good ass season specific supporting cast cause holy shit man. Also! I liked that Kai was in it! I enjoy Kai so so so so so much! I’ve always wanted more of her in the show! UNFORTUNATELY!

Tucker is so hard to watch. It’s so honest to god painful to watch. Maybe that’s what they were going for I don’t know. But, having now seen season 17 I get what they were TRYING to do I just don’t fully like how they did it.

In s17 Tucker admits to himself that the reason why in s16 he was acting so weird and gross and toxic masculinity “I have to have the biggest and most talented dong in the room at all times or I’ll kms” character ever is cause he was trying to be a leader

It’s sounds stupid and personally I think it IS stupid but now that I know what they were TRYING to write it makes these post Chorus seasons more bearable.

Basically, Tucker spent all that time in Chorus forced to be a leader. Once he finally got comfortable in the position of one Chorus no longer needed them. He wanted to keep being a leader keep feeling like a leader and it went to his head. He tried acting cool and tough and macho cause that’s what he thought a leader was and he says this! Out loud he admits all this to himself in s17! And honestly? That’s SUCH a good fucking concept it’s super fucking interesting and I really dig it plus with Tucker FAILING at being the leader it gave Donut well deserved character growth. I’ve always hated how sidelined Donut got compared to the others cause I’ve always liked him but s17 is definitely Donut’s season and to see him finally get screen time and respect and also have genuine moments of connection with the others was honestly really fucking awesome

So, do I like s16? God no. Do I recommend it watching it? Hard to say. You have to watch it if you wanna finish the show. Is finishing the show worth it? Honestly I dunno yet I haven’t seen 18 or 19 so it’s to be seen rn. But s17 where not perfect was definitely better than 16 and gave better insight on what they were trying to do. I don’t like the execution I don’t think it was as done very well but I like the ideas I like what they were attempting

S15 I admittedly do not fucking remember at all cause again it’s not a season I’ve rewatched more than maybe twice cause I kept stopping cause I just did not wanna deal with what I knew was coming. And I know me I know myself I know if I tried rewatching the show from the start or even s15 in an attempt to finish it I’d ever fucking do it so instead I just started from s16 and went forward

I don’t remember out right hating s15 but similar to the above I think there were good ideas and not all of them were perfectly done in writing. Also there’s this like really cool interesting thing that is about Tucker that then ends up being a stupid child support payment joke and that sucks so much it makes me so burningly livid I don’t even have a joke here it just makes me mad

But! It brings in the concept of other reds and blues other soldiers that were left in the rubbles of project freelancer which is super interesting again I think they coulda done more with specific parts of it and the “Tucker doesn’t pay child support for the buncha kids he fucked into existence” joke sucks especially when they CONSTANTLY SHOW HIM AS A VERY DOTING AND LOVING FATHER it’s fine I’m not mad I’m not bitter I promise

But uh yeah honestly if you like the show a lot I say watch it even if it sucks. Some of my biggest special interests are GARBAGE shows with writing so bad it makes me wanna commit actual arson. But, I love the characters I love the settings and I love what could have been maybe that’s why I always keep sticking around in stuff like this lol even if it sucks I like to imagine what could make it better cause I love it! And if I didn’t love it I wouldn’t care to put as much energy into wanting it to be better as I do! That’s the same with RvB! I wish it was better I wish SSOOOO BADLY that it was better but it’s cause I love it so fucking much not out of any sort of hate if that makes sense?

Idk tldr it’s up to you and you might suffer a bit but if you love the show I say go for it

Aaaand it’s 2am and I read ur ask wrong I thought that said “watch” not “rewatch” but? Points still stand I’m the kinda person that will rewatch even the seasons I hate to remember why I like the ones I love (I’m looking at you Ninjago season 3 you hot fucking garbage that I’ve sadly seen more times than I would like)

#rvb #red vs blue #toonz talks #toonz asks #ancient-romes

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onyxino · 1 day

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Happy birthday, Aizen!

For Aizen's birthday here is some headcanons. Some SFW but its mostly just filth.

CW: Creampie. Oral F receiving. AFAB reader x Aizen. Dom/Sub dynamics used. Aizen is a whole warning himself. Slightly creepy and toxic Aizen. Panty sniffing and stealing. Cum play. Praise. Talk of sexual orientation. MDNI!!

Proof read like 3 times but my eyes fail me quite a bit

WC:1200

Safe For Work

I wholeheartedly believe that Sosuke is 100% capable of love. He just wouldn’t be able to recognize the emotion at first and would have a really big internal conflict regarding the matter. I think initially he would have the issue of not being able to tell the difference between obsession and love. Once he's finally figured out what he's feeling he’s now faced with the new issue of showing it because saying it is absolutely out of the question.

To expand further on my last headcanon, let's talk about Sosuke’s love languages! He has two forms of love language.

First would be gift giving. I think Sosuke would be very big into giving you anything you wanted as a sign of love. He believes you deserve nothing but the best so why not give it to you! You eye something at the mall for a little too long? Congrats, it’s yours now! Don’t even try to protest it belongs to you now so just take it. You do deserve the best after all.

Second form of Sosuke’s love language would most definitely have to be words of praise and affirmations. This man may have the hardest time saying those 3 big words but he will praise you from dusk to dawn.

“You’re doing just splendid, Dear. I’m quite pleased with your progress.” He says as he tucks a damp piece of hair behind your sweaty ear. This new training regiment he has you on is a killer but his words fuel you to keep going.

I plan to expand more on this in the NSFW portion!

I definitely believe that Aizen would not use Kyoka Suigetsu on you. I can only see him using it on you in an event where it may be needed to protect you or prevent you from risking your own life if it came down to it.

This man is the definition of LOYAL. Do not fret this man will not cheat. You’ll actually have the issue of him not leaving your side. In the world of the living, you want his phone? It's yours, I mean you already know the password so just ask for it and he’ll hand it over. He will be a little upset that you don’t trust him but he understands you’ve probably been hurt before but believe me he will be asking for your phone in return.

I know a lot of these have been very wholesome but don’t get me wrong this is Sosuke AIzen we are talking about. He can and will be T O X I C. He has jealousy issues, make sure you aren’t talking to the pesky candy shop owner for too long or else you’ll be in trouble.

I believe he has the tendency to stalk as well. Trust me that man could tell you EXACTLY where you were at 12:30pm on July,3rd,2023. Even if you don’t remember he does.

Not Safe For Work

Sosuke Aizen is uncut. Plain and simple.

I headcanon him to be pansexual. I believe Sosuke has had experience with men, women and non-binary/androgynous people as well. I also do believe while he is pansexual and has had experience with all genders that he does have a preference. I can really see him being into Non-binary/Androgynous AFAB people. Honestly though if he likes you, he likes you and it doesn’t matter what kind of genitalia you have. I also believe that at one point in time even for a small amount of time he had a thing for Shinji Hirako (or maybe that's too self indulgent and I just want them to hate fuck.)

While I do say he has had experience with people of all genders, I do not believe that Sosuke Aizen sleeps around. While being experienced he’s only had a few past partners for a couple of reasons. First being that he just doesn’t have time for such conquests due to being too busy with his plan for being the one at the top and all. Second being that Aizen only sleeps with people that he has a fondness for and for him it takes a long time to build up that trust. Being that naked and vulnerable around someone he barely knows just does not interest him at all.

Sosuke is a dom at heart but he wouldn't mind (he actually really craves) soft and tender sex without the use of dom/sub dynamic.

Sosuke has a huge thing for cum play. He loves the idea of covering you in his cum, it’s some sort of primal way for him to mark you as his. He also loves stuffing you full, creampie after creampie and then seeing it spill out of you drives him absolutely mad. Him knowing that you're so full of his cum that it's ruining your underwear and dribbling down your thighs as you go about your daily tasks gets him off.

To expand further on this it’s not just his cum he’s obsessed with it’s yours too. He loves when you squirt on his face as he’s eating you out, it does his ego wonders and on top of it all you taste like heaven to him. He is also absolutely in love with the sight of you creaming on cock, seeing that white ring of cum appear at the base of dick is just another thing that gets him off and feeds his already obese ego.

Sosuke Aizen love love loves to talk and that doesn’t change during sex either. He is very very vocal. He is the kind of man to talk you through it. He loves to deliver praise (In the most condescending way possible) as much he loves to degrade you.

“C’mon now, you can take it.” He coos in an almost praising yet degrading way as he cups your cheek in his soft yet calloused hand.

He has you on your back, tears staining your rosy cheeks. He’s halfway buried in you, if people saw you right now they’d think this was your first time taking his cock. Oh man, that couldn't be further from the truth, you swear every time up and down it will never fit. Every time you are proved wrong.

He pushes himself into you a little more, this earns him a whine that tumbles from your lips as you feel his girth stretch you out.

“That’s it, you’re doing so well. Now be good and take the rest of me, yeah? I know you can.” He says leaning down to bury his face into your neck. Then snapping his hips forward in one switch motion he’s sheathing himself completely inside of you.

A strangled moan tears itself from your throat as you adjust to him. You take it now and you take it every time because Sosuke wouldn’t dare speak words to you that he knew to be falsehoods.

Sosuke is a panty sniffer/stealer. If you think you’re leaving your encounter with him with your underwear you’d be so wrong. It’s a trophy to him, a token of your memory for him as he sits on the edge of his bed stroking his length later that night after you’ve left. Wadded up fabric clutched in his hand pressing against his nose as he breathes deeply.

Bonus: He is definitely guilty of cumming in your underwear and forcing you to wear them all day.

Thanks for reading, I don't write often but i sure enjoy sharing when I do!

Tag list: @stygianoir @muzansfangs

#bleach tybw #aizen sosuke #bleach aizen #captain aizen #sosuke aizen #bleach #aizen headcanon #aizen x you #aizen sosuke smut #aizen sosuke x reader #sosuke aizen x reader #aizen

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milo-is-rambling · 11 months

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Me vs confusing gender thoughts vs mental illness

#my brain has been very loud recently.#been thinking about going on t. that was the whole reason I wanted to get a job but I was so scared to take that step that I didn’t talk to #the ppl I had to talk to and now I’m fired and broke again #so I didn’t go talk to the specialist lady my doctor recommended and now I’m broke again and I just want to go on hormones #I think I’d like myself more if I could be successful but I am not made for working #like in a sad way I think I was made to be a thirty year old in their mothers basement like I’m afraid I’m doomed to that even tho I know im #not I also just don’t like fully believe that I’m not destined to that even tho I’m the one that would have to change my actions. anyways.#I wish I was on testosterone and I lived further up north and I had an apartment or my car converted fully to a living space I wish I had #a wide array of friends who would let me spend a night and hang out and laugh and do stupid shit and I wish I could just travel and make art #and just try my best not to die before I turn 30 #but money. and getting money. and working long enough and being educated enough to have a job that pays enough to make going to work worth #it because living is expensive even bare minimum and I feel like it’ll be hard forever and I’ll be stuck behind everyone else forever #but in my head I’m 21 living in my car traveling all over properly medicated (depression meds. testosterone. and weed.)

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pepprs · 2 years

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ppl are being so fucking mean in the notes of this one wc post abt the new excerpt like. don’t get me wrong i think redacted is a deeply flawed character and i share everyone’s anger and frustration in his storyline being so badly written and lazily thought out and a perfect example of the misogyny in wc like that’s part of why i stopped reading the books bc they kind of fucking suck. but ppl in the notes are saying he’s a loser and should die over… resenting that he is the last person picked for the team? like is that not a universal experience. have we not all been through that. idk. like i know that’s not the most important aspect of this conversation and at the end of the day it’s a fictional character but also it’s like… lol

#purrs #ppl saying he should die over resenting his mom too when like. idk. i get it and i know talking abt these aspects is like unhelpfully #detracting from what the conversation is actually about but like. i think even if his reasons to hate his mom and feel distanced from her #are immature and selfish and he’s needlessly cruel (not to mention the personalities of well established (FEMALE!) characters are literally #being bent into unrecognition narratively to prove him right which i fucking hate) and i think it’s dumb that they didn’t go w his mom for t #this storyline when it was the obvious choice. but also like. the mom stuff is so real. the scene with him and his mom and sister (sorry im #vaguing bc i don’t want this in the search lol) just like wrenched my guts bc that’s what it’s like w me and my mom and my sister. i don’t c #care about the character i don’t even really like him that much and i skim his parts but i think the mom drama storyline is important and #the whole warped view of the world bc of your mom drama storyline is also important and i just don’t like seeing ppl bash him for those #aspects bc… a lot of people out there do that and have that and it doesn’t make them bad people. idk maybe im just defensive and butthurt or #whatever bc it’s making me think abt how maybe how i treat my mom / react to her emotionally neglecting me (and even PERCEIVE it as neglect)#is unfair and flawed and whatever but like. idk. i just think it’s unfair to want him to die for struggling w that and i think that aspect #of it is written in a very real way that i appreciate a lot in a vacuum / detached from the context of the character. and i wish ppl were #focusing their anger towards the erins for choosing him and warping the storyline more than they are taking issue with the actual like.#conflict and emotion in it because yeah i do think that redacted is justified in feeling how he feels in some ways. idk #it’s been pissing me off all night. like ppl are allowed to say die and kys and explode etc i do it all the time but also.. for that #specific thing it doesn’t feel fair. and it’s embarrassing to say that but im saying it. lol #delete later #like the reason he hates his mom isn’t because he hates women it’s because she abandoned him and couldn’t be a mother to him (for extremely #justifiable reasons but still) and even though it’s justifiable that is also like.. real. and it impacts you for life. lol! 🤸🏻‍♀️

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luvrxbunny · 8 months

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gullible

Pairing: Miguel O’Hara x F!Reader

Prompt: Breeding

Warnings: 18+ MDNI, a lot of body descriptions, reader is on the curvier side, some grinding/dry humping, male masturbation (barely), ovulation, piv, unprotected sex (lmk if I forgot anything)

WC: 4.7k

A/N: lets say spider society is funded by the most rish spider-people and thats what the dinner was for. also this is long asf- i blacked out im so sorry

It’s a formality. This whole dinner party. It’s something Miguel gets invited to every year and every year he dreads going to it, having to play posh in order to get some extra funding from the higher-ups. Although, he doesn’t mind too much this year because he’s bringing you.

He’s fidgeting, and complaining about his collar when you come out of the bathroom, you’re asking him if you look okay and he knows his answer before he looks at you. He knows you look good, he tells you so before turning to you and only reassures you upon gazing at the outfit.

This dress is new, and you’re worried your tummy might be too big for it so you’ve thrown a coat over to hide it. Miguel knows what the coat is really for but doesn't mention it, not wanting to risk making you so uncomfortable you change out of everything. He compliments your new perfume instead, winning a confused smile from you. You’re fidgeting with the coat on the ride to the venue, saying that it’s itchy and you’re getting too warm. He suggests you take it off but you gently refuse and stop complaining.

He gets dragged away from you the moment he walks through the door. He hates leaving you alone at these things, he knows you don’t socialize well and he knows the men here want a taste of you. He’s anxious to get back to you for the entire hour these deep pockets talk his ear off. He hasn’t been listening, he’s thinking about you. He’s almost overwhelmed at the love he has for you, he’s never felt this way before. He’s missing you even though you guys are in the same place, even though he’s only been away from you for an hour. He can’t get out of there fast enough, shoving the doors of the conference room open and searching for you immediately.

When his eyes find you, they find that you’ve already taken your jacket off and you’re socializing with an entire group of people. They’re conversing with you comfortably. You bring a smile to his face as you laugh at someone’s joke. His eyes rake over your body, finally taking in your true outfit.

It has him stiffening in his pants. You’re wearing a dark red pencil dress, the same color as his suit. It hugs your curves perfectly, doing justice to your plush thighs, your ass and showcasing the curve of your back. His favorite part though, is the way it hugs your front. Your boobs look great, sure, but it’s emphasizing the little pooch that sits at the bottom of your stomach.

You hate it, saying it makes you look fat, that you wish you could get rid of it… but in Miguel’s eyes? It’s just proof you’re the perfect woman to mother his children. He came to this conclusion before he even knew about your tummy. He had seen your wide hips, your care toward others, how good you are with children, and decided he wanted you.

Once he got you to date him, to fall in love with him, he found out about your little belly fat. You’d been sucking it in as much as you could whenever you were around him, sometimes wearing higher pants than necessary in hopes of the jeans pushing your stomach down. It broke his heart to hear you so insecure but there was also a little flame igniting in his stomach.

The flame never left. He didn’t tell you about it, but every time he noticed your belly pushing against your tank top, or a tight shirt, whenever he felt your soft tummy on his hard stomach- through the t-shirt you insist on wearing while he fucked you- the fire raged brighter. He added it to the list of reasons you’d be an amazing child-bearer. He’s obsessed with the protective fat over your womb.

He watches you cover your stomach with your arm as you laugh, not even realizing you’re trying to hide his favorite part of you. He’s walking over to you before he plans out what he’ll say. He just stands beside you, inhaling your sweet perfume, and waiting for you to feel his presence, it doesn't take long. You turn to him with a surprised smile and give him an excited hug. “Miguel!”

His heart expands at your excitement upon his arrival, he wraps an arm around your waist and presses you against him. Your voice is muffled as you speak to him. “I feel like I haven’t seen you in forever!” He’s not listening though.

To any outsider, it looked like Miguel just really missed you, when in reality, he was making sure you could feel what you do to him. You let out a pretty sigh into his ear once you feel his bulge press into you. Your eyes are on his as you pull away, searching them for a reason as to why he’s hard but all he’s too busy taking in every piece of you.

You’re both lost in your own world, you don’t realize the people you were talking to have moved on from your conversation, talking with some other people now and leaving you and Miguel to your moment.

His hands are resting on your hips before one slides behind you, pressing his open palm against the small of your back before the other presses against your lower stomach, right over your uterus. Miguel can feel your stomach tense under his hand as you suck in, tightening your muscles but Miguel just tuts and tilts his head at you, disappointed. “Don’t do that, cariño. I love her.” Your gaze is on the floor as you listen to him, he sounds drunk, his voice is distant and hazy.

His head is cloudy with fantasies. He can see your stomach, how it would grow and swell as you create his child inside you. He thinks about how beautiful you would look with your womb stuffed full of him. He swears she’s calling for him- your womb- begging him to fill her up, paint your walls white until his seed takes, maybe a little more after that just to be safe.

You can see his thoughts racing, you can tell he’s working himself up, you just don’t understand what is doing this to him. His hand on your stomach is making you a bit self-conscious, but your muscles have been too tight for too long, and they give out. Your soft tummy relaxes and presses into his hand, pulling a relieved sigh from Miguel. His breathing picks up and his eyebrows furrow before he looks up from your stomach, looking into your eyes instead. “You know I love this, right?”

He looks back down at your belly as he readjusts his palm, opening his hand wider to cover more of your pooch. You whine and shift uncomfortably, the way his hand is resting over your womb is hot, it’s turning you on but you’re barely aware of that fact because anxiety is overrunning everything. You’re waiting for Miguel to slip up, for you to see a crack in his lies. You appreciate the attempt at making you feel better about your body but you don’t- you can’t believe him.

Until you look up into his eyes.

They’re drowning in need, his pupils entirely blown out, covering most of the red in his eyes. He’s gazing at you as he slowly pulls you in and presses his plump lips against yours with a moan. You pull away quickly and look around, a few people looking your way at Miguel’s louder-than-safe moan. You look back up at him to warn him, tell him to keep it down but the words die on your tongue. His eyes are hazy and confused, still looking at your lips like he can’t figure out why you pulled away. You smile at him incredulously and pull his hand away from your back but he whimpers when you try and take his hand off your womb.

“Miguel, we’re public, baby.” Your voice is soft yet frantic, and his eyes are still begging you. “People are staring…” That gets a reaction, his face twitches and his eyes clear and harden a bit. He looks around the room with a snarl and you have to pull his gaze back to you.

“Hey! What’s gotten into you?” The question hurts him a bit as he thinks it over, he really is trying to pinpoint why this is affecting him so much. All he can focus on is you though, your scent enveloping him like a cloud. It smells like everything good, like flowers and honey, but also clean like soap and linen. It’s suffocating him, stopping all thought.

“You smell so good, amor. What is that? I don’t recordar buying este para ti.” His voice is muffled as he buries his face in the top of your head, looking for the source of your scent. You’ve had enough, he’s doing all of this in the middle of the party, and you’re starting to feel a bit embarrassed. You’re pushing him back, slowly walking him to the edges of the party. You feel people staring until you finally hit a wall, pushing a grunt from Miguel. “What is up with you?” Your tone is gentle but you’re getting concerned, you’ve never seen him like this.

His eyes are shut tightly as his brows furrow and he lets out a pathetic whimper. “I’m sorry. I- I don’t know.” His hand leaves your stomach to bury in his hair and you instantly miss its warmth. You take a step closer to him, waiting for him to say more. “Can we leave? I think we’ve been here long enough, yeah?” He’s already pulling your hand to the exit.

He’s silent in the car and on the drive home, constantly running his hand through his hair, and bouncing the leg that isn't on a pedal. You’re taking in his frantic state and notice that through all this, he’s still hard. “Miguel…” He gasps softly and turns to you for a moment. “What’s wrong?

“I don’t-” His eyes dart to your form. “ Your dress for one.” You glance down and wish you hadn’t, you see your stomach split into rolls, folding the fabric of your dress, accentuating the it’s softness. Your arms cross over it, trying to hide and Miguel groans.

“Don’t do that, I told you.” His voice sounds painful and strained. You look back at him to see a distressed look on his face and his hand palming his throbbing cock through his suit pants. “I fucking love her.” His breathing gets heavy, causing him to inhale more of your painfully sweet perfume. “What the fuck is that smell, baby?”

You can hear him take a big inhale of the air in the car and a shiver runs up his spine. “I’m…” You struggle to round up enough thoughts to answer him, too distracted by the way he crushes his dick against his thigh and the little moans that accompany his movements. “I’m not wearing perfume, Miguel.”

That's when it hits him. Why he’s so desperate for you, why your scent is clouding his every thought and taking over his mind… You’re ovulating.

A broken groan rips from his throat at the realization, he speeds the rest of the way home. When you guys finally arrive he parks in the driveway and unlocks the doors, but doesn’t move. “I need you to get out, bonita.”

You feel arousal settle in your stomach as you press your legs together. Miguel’s head falls back, and his hair falls with his head, revealing his red-tipped ears. His hips are still gently thrusting into his hand, the other is squeezing the wheel so hard you thought it might crack. “I- I need a moment, baby. I’ll explain everything, just go inside and-” He lets out a breathless curse and his hips stutter against his palm. “And go change and just- just wait for me, okay? I’ll be there in a moment, go.” You’re in a trance as he speaks but the force in his command shakes you out of it.

You leave the car silently and make your way to his place. You change out of your clothes in a daze, putting on a tank top and one of his sweatpants as you try to process what just happened. You grab a blanket and wait for Miguel on the couch.

It’s only a few minutes before you hear his footsteps approaching the door. You stand in front of the doorway, oddly nervous as you watch the knob turn. His eyes meet yours the moment the door opens, his eyes stay on yours as he ducks through the frame, and takes his shoes off. They only tear from yours to take in your new outfit, your lower belly is the first place his eyes land. He gets that weak look in his eye you’ve been seeing all night and his breathing picks up.

Miguel notices the way your stomach sucks in for a moment before relaxing, letting your body be as she is and it making him feral. He needs you so bad, he wants to just take you right here but he promised you an explanation. His eyes flicker up to you and he takes a shaky deep breath and tries to keep his voice steady. “Have a seat, hermosa.”

He looks nervous, he keeps wiping his hands on his suit pants as you walk over to sit on the couch, he seats himself at the other end, across from you. You’re turned to him, legs crossed and laying in his lap. He turns to face you more and accidentally places your legs over his bulge, you can feel his thighs tense as he folds in half, letting out a choked moan that he tries to cover as a cough. You let him think he got away with it, he leaves your legs over his bulge, giving him enough stimulation to think straight.

You’re looking at him expectantly, waiting for him to explain and he decides to just rip the band-aid off. “You’re-” Arousal stabs in his stomach at the sentence he has to utter. He bites into his lip and tries to regulate his breathing. “You’re o- ovulating.” Your legs shift in his lap as your expression falls, embarrassed. “And I can smell it.”

Your legs pull out of his lap quickly and you bring your knees to your chest. “What?!” You sit up and tuck your legs under you, sitting on your calves. “You can smell it? I’m- God that’s so- I’m so sorry.”

His mind is getting hazy again without your contact. “No. Cariño, not that. It’s not like that.” He sighs at your confusion, he wishes you understood how desperate he was, maybe then you wouldn’t ask him to talk so much, maybe you’d just let him fuck you already. “It’s more like pheromones.”

His hand slides across the couch cushion, wraps around your ankle and slowly drags you toward him. “It’s a change in your personal scent. Your body is trying to trick mine into breeding you, and guess what?” He’s pulled you straight and is crawling up your body, slowly lowering himself against you so his bulge is pressing against your pussy, right over your clit.

He’s so hard he’s able to split your lips, rubbing the cloth of his sweatpants against your naked pussy and you gasp at the feeling. Your hands slide up from his biceps to pull his head in, anxiously awaiting the rest of his sentence. He smirks at the eager look on your face and leans in, just inches from your lips, and whispers against them. “My body is so gullible for you.” You whimper.

You can feel your entire being heating up as he kisses you so intensely, like he’s trying to devour you. He’s groaning against your lips and licking into your mouth as he wrestles his jacket off. Your hands shoot to his belt and struggle to get it off, whining into the kiss when his belt gets caught on the loops. He smiles into you and his hands come to rest over yours. “Tranquila, bebe. I’m the desperate one, remember?”

You shake your head his words and let him take his pants off while you wiggle out of his sweats. He moans at your bare pussy and his arms give out for a moment, almost dropping his weight on you before catching himself. “N-no panties?” His fingers are on you, rubbing your clit and spreading your slick all over you, coating his fingers in it. He’s being downright messy.

“Miggy- Miguel, I need it so bad- need you so bad. I love you so much. You’re so-” Your mind is already gone as you grind up into his fingers, overwhelmed by the added pleasure of his desperation. He’s groaning into your ear as he humps himself against your thigh in time with his fingers.

“I don’t know. I need-” You cut him off with a moan and he smiles as you apologize in between whimpers. “I think I’d need to cum in you, cariño. I need- My brain can only focus on-” He groans as you writhe against him, pushing your thigh into his crotch. His head lowers to rest against yours as his fingers speed up inside you. He can feel the way you’re coating them, soaking every crevice with your sweetness. He can feel the way they’re sliding inside you, the way your walls are squeezing him, it’s too much. “I can only think about cumming in you, bebe.”

Truthfully, his thoughts were more focused on what would come afterward, watching you swell with his child but you guys haven’t even had a conversation about kids yet.

“No.” You whine at him, he feels sadness shoot through his stomach but he tries to mask it. “Just fuck me, please?” You’re looking up at him with puppy dog eyes, your hands around his neck pulling his face impossibly closer as your lips try and lock with his. He nods at you gently, he wants to give you anything you could possibly want.

“Okay, amor.” He kisses you quickly before taking his hands off of you and starts unzipping his pants, pulling himself out of his boxers while you wait. You watch him for a bit as he gets undressed before a thought pushes into your head.

What if I took my top off this time?

You think it over for a second, you want to be yourself with him, completely and he’s explained his love for your tummy over and over again.

What could be the worst that happens?

Images of Miguel’s face twitching in disgust flash through your head. Unrealistic scenarios of Miguel pulling away, starting to reject your advances and your kisses plague your brain.

He wouldn’t do that.

You take a deep breath and bite the bullet, pulling your tank top over your head quickly and Miguel freezes, causing an abundance of discomfort on your end. You thought this was something he’d want, something he’d like, now that you’ve exposed yourself though, he’s silent.

You try to stand strong, but your hands are twitching at your sides to cover your stomach. You pray to whatever god there may be that you somehow gain the ability to read his mind, to see his thoughts, to force him to say something… anything.

His cock pulsing. He’s never seen you completely shirtless, despite being together for over a year. He never wanted to push you, too scared that he’d push you away. He’s seen you with no top but only with a towel over your stomach, or pants pulled over your stomach as you change. But now? Her full glory was on display, there’s a little curve underneath, separating your tummy from your pussy and he’s in love.

His eyes are zeroed in on your naked stomach and your hands come up to cover it, legs pulling inward as you fold into yourself. He can’t have that. “Don’t”

His voice is sharp and dark, a strong command but you don’t listen, covering your stomach fully. “It was a bad idea. I’m so uncomfortable, Mig. Can-” You let out a heartbreaking sigh. “Can you just pass me my top?” You threw it down just out of reach and your hands are occupied covering your stomach. Embarrassment is coursing through every vein.

How are we gonna move on from this? I fucking killed the shit out of the mood. Fuck. God, I hate this.

“No.” He’s moving back toward you, climbing up your body again, ignoring the obvious confusion you’re facing. You curl in even more which just upsets him. He grabs your leg and pulls, forcing you out of your ball before pinning it under his own. “Uh-” You let out a noise of surprise but Miguel pays it no mind as he reaches for your arms. He takes both of your wrists in his hand and pins them above your head, holding them there as he admires your tummy.

Your heart is racing but you don’t struggle. Miguel is looking at you like to most amazing piece of art and you’d do anything- anything- for him to keep going. You feel yourself leaking between your legs as he just stares. His breathing is slow and shaky and his brows keep furrowing, like he’s having an internal battle with himself. He takes another breath and exhales through his mouth, letting his breath fan over your face before releasing your wrists and leg.

He’s waiting for you to pull your hands back down, cover one of your most beautiful features… but you don’t.

Instead, you wrap your arms around his neck and pull him in. “Can you please, please, fuck me now?” His face twitches before he smiles, taking a deep breath as he pulls away. He kisses your chest as he slowly rises, his hand already on his cock, pumping himself gently as he aligns himself with your entrance. You’re gripping the cushions with all your strength as he works himself in.

He’s worried. You feel insane around him, the softest thing he’s ever felt, extra wet and open for him to breed you. His mind keeps wandering back to cumming inside you, even though you said no. He’s walking the line of some dangerous thoughts.

I am stronger than her…

He shakes the thought out of his head and focuses on you. The way you��re moaning his name like it’s the only thing you know, your hips are growing frantic as the grind up against him. “Miggy-“

“Amor.” He smiles at the moan that rips from your chest as you bury yourself in his neck. His hips speed up at the sounds of your moans right next to his ear, your breath tickling the shell of it.

“‘M gonna- “ Miguel cuts you off with a growl and his brows furrow. He doubles down on his thrusts, bringing his hands to the small of your back, gripping you hard and fucking you into his cock.

It’s going to take a serious amount of focus to keep his orgasm at bay until you’re done. “Go- Fuck. No, just wait, baby.” You let out a confused noise at his command. He’s never asked you to hold it before.

“Fuck! Mi- I don’t know how!” Your sentence turns into a sob as he watches your body tense up, pulling all your muscles tight and gripping the roots of his hair. “Haah- Miguel. Baby, I ca- an’t. Please let-“

A moan stops your sentence as Miguel presses onto your womb, forcing his cock against your walls, stretching you even more. You feel so full you don’t know what’s happening. Your eyes are wide as you stare at his hand, slowly looking up to meet his eyes. They’re frantic, desperate and wild when they meet yours.

His panting aggressively, intermittently pausing so he can try and regulate his breathing. You’re staring into his eyes, shocked at his reaction and a smirk pushes its way into your face before you moan at him again. He pulls his hand away from your womb like it burned him and pulls out, gripping the base of his cock so hard it must hurt.

You were so close, teetering on the edge, just hearing Miguel utter your name could’ve tipped you over… but he pulled out instead. “Miguel!!! Why? I- I’ve been good, haven’t I?”

Your desperate pleads are worsening his situation. He ignores your words and starts rubbing your clit, his fingers moving over the little bud lightning fast. “I’m not punishing you, bebé bonita”

You whine at the love name and grip his arm, trying to pull him closer to you. “No puedo correrme dentro de ti and I’m… I’m too close right now, cariño.”

You’re trying to push his hand away now, shaking your head and whining. “S’okay”

Your yanking at his arm, trying to get him back over you. “Cum inside, Miggy.”

His eyes widen and he doesn’t move. He honestly thinks he’s hearing things at this point, fantasizing without realizing but you’re look at him all shy and expectant. So you actually said something… “W-“ He takes a deep breath. “What?”

You whine at him and avert your eyes as your legs slowly spread for him. “You- You wanted to, right? I want it…” You whine at the thought. “I need it, Miggy.”

His vision blurs as he reaches out for you, lining himself up as quickly as he can. He can already feel his balls pulsing, tensing and preparing a load for you, for your pussy, your womb.

It’s worse than the first time he ever had sex with you. Every nerve is alight, he can feel every little detail in your pretty, perfect pussy. On top of that, you’re moaning like he’s never heard before, louder, more high pitched, more desperate than earlier and they’d already shocked him then. He can’t.

“Mm- Not- fuck. I’m not gonna last. Not even a min- shit. Oh my god, cariño. Not even gonna last a minute. Fuck me, niña bonita.” Your almost screaming his name at his words, his languid pace and the way he’s literally shaking for you. “Gonna- shi-it.” His words sound like broken sobs as his tip gently abuses your cervix.

You’ve pulsing around him, trying everything you can to wait for him so you can milk him while he pumps you full. “I’m gonna cum. Fuck. I’m gonna cum in- in you, baby. Voy a follarte un bebé, amor. Te dejaré embarazada, te mantendré llena de mí en todo momento. Mierda. Te verás tan hermosa, manteniendo a nuestro bebé protegido en tu grueso útero. Oh, joder"

(“I'm going to fuck a baby into you, love. I will get you pregnant, I'll keep you full of me at all times. Shit. You will look so beautiful, keeping our baby protected in your thick womb. Oh fuck.”)

Your eyes roll back and the coil in your stomach snaps as Miguel rambles, hips thrusting into yours gently, his gaze on the back of his skull. You’re fucking yourself on him as best you can in this position. It’s awkward and over-exerting but completely worth it when you hear a whine of your name and Miguel’s cock starts throbbing inside you.

Twitching once, twice, before hardening even more and pouring a torrent of cum into your waiting pussy. He’s the loudest you’ve ever heard. Moaning out your name on repeat, thanking you for letting him cum in you with a lot of other Spanish sentences in between.

His hand presses to your womb as he winds down but his cock twitches out another load as he pushes down, fucking into you slowly again. “Te amo tanto, mi querida. No puedo imaginar la vida sin ti. Una vida en la que no tendrás mis hijos, en la que no estemos casados…” His entire body shudders as he finally stops pouring into you.

(“I love you so much, my dear. I can’t imagine life without you. A life where you don’t bear my children, in which we aren’t married…”)

He leans down and kisses you slowly, eyes hooded but still focused on you. Your eyes are teary and trying to shut, exhausted from the entire night. Miguel keeps pressing kisses all over you as you drift off.

“Un mundo sin ti es uno en el que no podría vivir, amor.”

(“A world without you is one I couldn't live in, love.”)

Thank you so mcuh for reading! If you enjoyed, here's the rest of my Kinktober Works and be sure to check out my Main Masterlist!!

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schmidtsbimbo · 6 months

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★ Older bf Mike Schmidt Headcanons ★

𖦹 Warnings: afab reader, pet names, slightly suggestive, age gap relationship, perv!mike if you squint

⋆｡°‧Requests are open! Comments and reblogs are welcome and appreciated ♡

―୨୧⋆ ˚ A/N: thinking about older bf mike has had my brain mushy all day and I had to get it out of my system so this is super short , this has not been proofread ^_^

Olderbf!mike who isn’t too much into pda but still holds your hand because he knows you love it, occasionally wrapping his arms around your waist or shoulders when he’s feeling a little bolder. However, when you’re both alone he cannot keep his hands off of you. He’ll sneak up behind you while you’re cooking and snake his hands around your waist from behind, his head resting in the crook of your neck. When he’s driving his unoccupied hand is always resting on your thigh, his thumb gently rubbing small circles against your skin.

Olderbf!mike who loves how different your aesthetics are. You show up to gatherings in pink tracksuits or small skirts and tight shirts, mike trailing behind you in his blue jeans and grey zip up sweater. He stands in the doorway of the bathroom in a plain T-shirt and boxers while you’re doing your makeup, admiring the way you apply your favorite pink lipstick on your lips and the way you bat your eyes in the mirror after applying mascara

Olderbf!mike who almost never calls you by your actual name. He calls you all sorts of names like sweetheart, baby, princess, and his absolute favorite name to call you being pretty girl. so much so that he has it as your contact name on his phone. He used to be a little hesitant to call you any of these names in public but three months in any trace of hesitation was gone

Olderbf!mike who is incredibly overprotective at times. After the Garrett incident he can’t even fathom losing you too, if you go anywhere he’ll be right by your side. Nail appointment? Random shopping trip? Hair appointment? He’s right there trailing right behind you. If for whatever reason he can’t go with you, he bought you some pepper spray that you thought was a little excessive but he insisted on it because “you never know”

Olderbf!mike who secretly eats up the age gap between you two. Sure, when he found out your age he was a little hesitant about the whole thing but it certainly didn’t stop him. He still gets a little sheepish when you drag him out to hang out with your friends and he realizes the age difference really does affect some of your interests

Olderbf!mike who can’t help but sneak a glance up your skirt when you drop something and bend over to pick it up. He can never keep his eyes off you, especially when you wear low cut shirts. He thinks you don’t notice but you definitely do. You’re almost teasing him and using it to your advantage when you notice, wearing something a little provocative when you want a small favor from him

#mike schmidt #mike schmidt x reader #mike schmidt x fem!reader #josh hutcherson #five nights at freddy's #fnaf #fnaf movie #mike afton #mike fnaf #Rosie writes ―୨୧ #mike schmidt headcanons

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mrsbarnesblog · 7 months

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Jersey

masterlist ko-fi ao3

College! Bucky Barnes x Reader

Summary: Natasha’s idea of getting a jersey with Bucky’s name turned out to be much better than you expected.

Word count: 3.2K

Warnings: smut, established relationship, college, football player bucky is a biggest warning tbh, he's so in love, locker room sex, nat is good friend, unprotected sex, creampie, aftercare.

Author's note: honestly one of my favorite fics because college athlete bucky is my biggest weakness (I should probably write about him more often)💘

It’s been another game for the "Avengers", where your boyfriend Bucky Barnes was a quarterback. Today was one of the most important games against "Hydra" – their biggest enemy. Obviously, you couldn't miss the game, and Natasha, your best friend and roommate, will be with you as always. And right now, she has convinced you to do something that has been on your mind for a long time.

"C’mon, It’ll be fun. He’ll like it, I promise!" She said as you two stood near the place that made custom t-shirts with any prints. And at this moment, Natasha wanted you to order a jersey with Bucky’s number and his name on it.

"I don’t know, Nat. I mean, I want to do it, but what if he thinks that it’s too much?" You nervously played with the hem of your skirt.

"Now stop it." She stood before you and put her hand on her hips like a mother who was scolding her child. "You’ve been dating for more than a year, and his guy loves you so fucking much that he can’t even tear his eyes from you every time you two are in the same room. So when I tell you that he’ll love it, I mean it." You silently looked at her for a few minutes, but when she questionably raised her eyebrow, you finally gave up.

"Fine, you won. I hate you."

"I love you too, baby." Nat chuckled and dragged you to the store.

It seemed like there were thousands of people because everyone wanted to see one of the most important games of the season. People were already taking their seats, but you and Nat went straight to the locker room to wish the guys good luck. Trainer Fury was very strict about this, and it was forbidden for people not from the team to go there, but for some reason Nat always found a way to solve this problem.

"Guys!" Natasha loudly knocked at the door. "Are all of you already dressed up? I’m not in the mood to see somebody’s ass today!"

"Come in!" You heard Thor’s loud voice.

"Oh, I see our support group is here." As soon as you two walked in, Sam ended up between you and Nat and threw his hands over your shoulders, leading you deeper into the room. "Barnes will be here soon; don’t worry."

"Okay. Are you guys ready to beat their asses?" You smiled and looked at the almost entire team that had come to see you and Nat.

"Don’t worry, Sweets, we’ll win, as always." Tony answered you while he was cleaning his helmet. "But you should tell your boyfriend to stay away from Rumlow, or else he’ll be suspended again. By the way, is that jersey with his name?" You quietly nodded as the whole team made an impressive ‘woo’ together.

"You two are disgustingly sweet, you know that?" Sam rolled his eyes, and at the same time, the door slammed. "It’s him; go give him some kisses for luck."

"Shut up, Samuel." You laughed and left their little circle to find Bucky looking at his phone. "Don’t you want to say hi, James?" He moved his eyes to you, and his face immediately lit up with happiness.

"I just wanted to text you." He threw his phone on the bench and came closer to wrap his arms around you. "Hi, doll. I missed you so much today." He mumbled into your neck.

"I missed you too, Buck." You smiled when your heart filled with all the love you had for that man. "But wait, I have to show you something." You slipped out of his hands, excited and nervous at the same time. "Look what I’ve got!" You happily turned around to show Bucky your back and flipped your hair to the side so he could see everything better. "Do you like it?"

You had a big red jersey on you, to which Bucky didn't even pay attention at first. But when you turned around, his mouth went dry and his whole body became fuzzy. You had his number 17 and the word "Barnes" on your back. You were wearing his last name on your back.

For a few seconds, he was silent. He didn't answer your answer either, so with confusion written on your face, you faced him again, only to see a weird look on his face.

"What? You don't like it? Should I take this off? I'm sorry…" You started to apologize, only to be interrupted by his low voice.

"Don't you dare take this off, Y/N." He suddenly came closer to you again, and the next thing you knew, your back was slapped against the metal lockers when Bucky’s lips attacked you. He kissed you passionately and deeply, pressing his body against yours as if he was desperate to touch you and feel you closer. You couldn’t hold back the quiet moan that escaped your mouth when he tilted your head with his hand, helping his tongue slip into your mouth.

You thought that you heard the screams of the boys on the other side of the room, but they were really muffled when your head was filled with the thought of your boyfriend’s soft lips and warm skin. Bucky finally broke the kiss, leaving you two catching your breath while he put his forehead on yours and closed his eyes.

"You don’t understand what you’re doing to me. You look so fucking hot in this jersey, I want to fuck you right now." He whispered so only you could hear. "You made me hard, doll." To prove his words, he pushed his hips a little bit closer to you so you could feel the hardness.

"‘M sorry; I didn’t know that you would react like that."

"Hey, Buck, we should already go." Bucky’s grip on your waist became only tighter, when he heard Steve’s voice, and he nuzzled into your neck.

"Give me a minute."

"The game is gonna start soon."

"I said, give me a minute, Steve!" He said it louder. Bucky deeply inhaled, and it was obvious that he just needed some time to calm down.

"Shh, it’s okay, James." You put your hands through his hair because you knew that it would instantly relax him. "You're gonna win this game, right? And without fights."

"I’ll do everything for you. I just love you so much, doll." He whispered into your neck when his body finally relaxed and he was able to move away from you.

"I love you too, James." He quickly kissed you again before turning around to face the team, who had knowing smirks on their faces.

"You two should get a room." Sam had an annoyed look on his face.

"Don’t worry, Birdbrain, we will. Are you ready for the game, or are you gonna stand here and complain all day?" Bucky winked at you and went out of the room without waiting for the answer from Sam.

"So…" Natasha suddenly appeared near you. "Did you make The White Wolf hard by just wearing a shirt with his name on it?" She grinned, as it was her original plan that worked.

"Oh, shut up!"

The game was tough. Hydra played dirty as always, and Bucky almost got into a fight with Rumlow during the intense moment. You almost jumped out of the seat during the last few minutes of the game, and when "Avengers" finally won, you and Natsha screamed at the top of your lungs.

As soon as the team was done cheering and hugging, Bucky looked at the seat where you were supposed to be but saw only Nat, who pointed at you already standing near the rim. He ran to you with the biggest smile on his face, and when he finally reached you, he crushed his lips into yours.

You didn’t care that many people looked at you, even though you knew that some particular groups of girls would gossip about it for the next week because… well, everyone wanted your boyfriend. You just wrapped your hands around his sweaty neck and pulled him closer to you as far as you could with a fence between you two.

"I’m so proud of you, baby." You whispered into his lips. "You were amazing as always."

"Thank you, doll. I'm happy that you’re here with me." He looked into your eyes as his right thumb rubbed your cheek.

"You know I couldn’t miss your game, especially if it’s that important."

"Mhm, can you… come to the locker room in like twenty minutes?" Bucky nervously licked his lips.

"To the locker room? I thought we were going to celebrate it with the team as always."

"Maybe later, but I’m thinking of something, so come, ‘kay?" He started to go back to the field, but not before giving you another sweet kiss on the lips.

***

You sat in the cafeteria for about twenty minutes, passionately waiting for the appropriate time to go to the locker room because you really didn’t want to see another naked man that wasn’t your boyfriend. One such experience was enough for you. You asked Nat to come with you, but when you repeated Bucky’s words to her, she just gave you a mysterious smirk and patted you on the shoulder, saying that you better go there alone.

When you finally got there and knocked on the door, you heard only Bucky’s voice, who told you to come in.

"James? What’s going on?" You asked as you came further into the room. It was empty except for Bucky, who came out of nowhere and locked the door. "What are you doing?"

He didn’t answer you; he just crossed the room, kissed you, and pushed your back into the metal lockers, just as he did it a few hours ago. He was greedy, passionate, and a little bit too rough, so you couldn’t keep the moan from escaping your mouth. Bucky’s hands squeezed your hips and then went higher under your jersey.

"Bucky…" You pulled away from the kiss, but he took advantage of it and started kissing your neck. Your eyes rolled back as you squeezed his shoulders and completely forgot everything you wanted to say. He sucked your soft skin into his mouth and even bit you. It was obvious that he desperately wanted to leave dark marks on your neck, but, honestly, you didn’t care. He smelled too good fresh out of the shower, with his bare chest and low-rise gray sweatpants, and his mouth… God, you knew what his mouth could do. "Baby, we can’t do it here."

"We can, and we will." He left your neck and looked at you, leaving only a few inches between your faces. "You can’t imagine how hard it was for me not to bend you over the closest surface when you showed me that fucking shirt. With my name on it? So everyone could see that you’re mine?" Bucky licked his already swollen lips. You pressed your thighs together, feeling how wet you were. He definitely felt that motion because his eyes became darker, and he looked like he was going to devour you at that same place.

"James…" You quietly whimpered, not being able to hold yourself anymore.

"Baby, fuck– doll, I love it when you call me that. You drive me insane." He decided not to lose any more time, so his hands went straight to the button of your jeans. He helped you get out of them, not losing a chance to touch your bare legs. "Now turn around, baby." You heard a deep moan, probably when he saw the back of the shirt again.

"Bucky, please." You whispered when you felt that more juices came out of you. You loved when your boyfriend became needy and possessive.

"Look at you, doll. You're already ready for me, and I haven’t even touched you yet." He said that when he put his hand over your pussy, he probably felt the heat and pulse. "I would’ve eaten you out, but I need you too fucking much, so I promise to do it when we get to my place."

"O-okay, just do something, please." You pushed your ass back and heard a loud, deep moan as soon as you touched Bucky’s hard cock through his pants. You put your hands behind your back to try to push down his clothes, and at the same time, Bucky removed your black thongs.

You felt his hard cock on the bare skin of your ass, the tip already leaking with pre-cum. Bucky squeezed your ass with his hands and moved his hips. His perfectly shaped cock grinded against your wet folds, and you couldn’t stop a whimper from escaping your throat.

"Please, don’t tease me–" You didn’t even finish the sentence when Bucky moved forward and buried himself deep inside of you. The mixture of pain and pleasure washed over you, and you didn’t even realize that you moaned too loudly. He was too perfect, filling you completely and stretching you around him in the most delicious way.

"Sh-h, sweetheart, you don’t want other people to hear you, right?" One of Bucky’s hands slipped under your shirt and laid on your stomach, and the other one covered your mouth, pulling you closer to his chest. "Good girl." He mumbled into your ear when you shook your head.

Bucky pulled away from you, still staying deep inside of your heat, letting you adjust to his size. He put one hand from your mouth on your back, which made you lean forward toward the lockers. The cold metal cooled your hot skin, but it still felt like you were burning inside.

Bucky finally started moving his hips, and the filling of his dick coming in and out of you made you almost faint. You two had sex a million times, but it still amazed you how full and satisfied he made you feel.

"That’s right, doll. You’re so greedy for my dick, huh?" He started to go faster, and you tried to move your body to his rhythm. "Was this your plan? Showing me that fucking jersey, so I could fuck you like a little slut you actually are?" His hand went over your back, tracing letters on your shirt with his fingers, and his motions became harder. In fact, it wasn’t your idea, but you should definitely thank Natasha because you really didn’t expect your boyfriend to become even more obsessed with you.

Your mouth opened in a silent scream, and you clenched around Bucky’s cock, making him moan. "I feel how you’re clenching ‘round me. I know that you like it when I call you my slut. Only mine."

"Yes, Bucky– James, please." A sudden slap on your right cheek pulled another moan out of you, and Bucky just chuckled, knowing that you’re always loud with him.

"Please what, baby?"

"Let me cum, please– James! I’m so close." You felt too overwhelmed with pleasure, not even realizing that you started crying when his fingers moved to your clit, drawing little circles there.

"Fuck, one day I’m gonna make you Mrs. Barnes, so you will have a well-damn reason to wear this shirt." He deeply chuckled, moving harder and harder into you. More nasty sounds of skin slapping into skin and your not-so-quiet moans filled the room. "Can you imagine that, baby? Being my cute little wife, who likes when I fuck the shit out of her? Poor doll, crying. Can’t even handle my cock deep inside your pussy, can’t you?" He moved even deeper into you, and that was it.

"God– James!" You slammed your hands on the metal near your face, trying to find something to hold onto, as the wave of heat and extreme pleasure covered your whole body and mind. Your legs trembled, and the only thing that kept you straight was Bucky’s strong hands. He felt that you were over the edge, that you couldn’t stand on your legs, and he definitely felt more juices coming out of you. He looked down and saw how his shiny cock was coming in and out of your pussy that was particularly choking him, and that sight threw him over the edge. With the last movement, he pulled your body into him, wrapping his hands around you and releasing his hot seed deep inside of you.

You both moaned at the feeling of you being so full of his cum that it had already started dripping down your thighs.

"That’s it, baby." Bucky whispered into your ear. "You did so well. Are you okay?" He left light kisses on your cheek.

It was too intense; not a single thought came to your head, and for a few seconds you tried to put yourself together.

"Mhm." It was the only thing that you were able to answer because your body was still trembling with the leftovers of your intense orgasm.

You two stayed in that position for a few minutes until Bucky realized that you had become too sleepy. He tried to pull out, but you grabbed his hand.

"‘m too sensitive." You almost cried.

"I know, sweetheart, but now I have to clean you and take you home." Bucky gently came out of you, and your body got goosebumps at the feeling of his cum leaking out of you. It took him all the strength not to shove it back into you with his fingers, but you were obviously too tired, and he couldn’t properly take care of you since you weren’t at his or your bedroom.

Bucky fell on his knees, quickly took a towel from his bag on the floor, and carefully cleaned the mess between your thighs. He reached for your panties, helped you put them back, leaving a soft kiss on your leg, and then helped you sit on the bench.

He looked at your sleepy and tired face while putting on his clothes.

"Hey, doll? You’re too quiet. Is everything okay? Was I too rough?"

"I’m ‘kay, it was just as intense as when you make me come many times in one night. Just help me with my jeans; I can’t feel my legs."

"Of course, sweetheart." He helped you with your pants and then fixed your messy hair. You couldn’t imagine how you must’ve looked right now. "I love you so much. Thank you for being here today. You’re truly the best thing that ever happened to me." Bucky kissed your forehead and wrapped his hands around your body, standing up with you.

"I love you too, Buck. So so much." You happily buried your face into his neck, knowing that your boyfriend was going to take care of everything.

He picked up his bag and keys for the locker room and came out of there. Bucky didn’t even close the door when he heard a familiar voice.

"Do not tell me that you two did what I think you did!" Sam was standing there a few steps away with disgust and shock on his face. "I didn’t expect that from you, Y/N/N." He joked.

"Sorry, Sam." You moved away from Bucky’s neck and tried to give Sam your best apologetic smile.

"Well, I’m not. Since you’re here, close the door, Birdbrain; we hurry."

Sam stood there for a few more moments after Bucky left with you in his arms.

He decided that the headphones that he left in the room could wait until another time.

#bucky barnes x reader #bucky barnes smut #bucky barnes #bucky fanfic #bucky x reader #james bucky barnes #bucky x you #marvel #james buchanan barnes #marvel imagine #marvel smut #bucky barnes x you #winter soldier #college!bucky #bucky barnes fanfic #mcu x reader

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gracieheartspedro · 4 months

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More Than Friends

how to help the Palestinian people

pairing: best friend!ellie williams x fem!reader (set in the jackson era)

description: you and ellie have been friends for awhile. while at a party for tommy’s birthday, you try to catch the attention of your crushes. sadly, they are all over each other. in a childish effort to get them to pay attention, you two try to make them jealous. 'cause that always ends the way you think, right?

word count: 3.3k words

warnings: MINORS DNI! this is 18+, smut, wlw, f!receiving oral (reader), fingering, jealousy, semi-public sex, dirty talk, tons of nicknames, no mentions of reader's appearance. talks of sexuality, but it's vague. reader wants to fuck whoever, it doesn't matter lol. let me know if I missed anything!

author's note: I wrote this after watching one too many ellie edits on tik tok. it was written in two hours, so it's not my finest work but it scratched my little ellie itch. okay, much love xoxoxoxxo

“So… you really like Dina, huh?”

Her face twists immediately at the question. She throws herself back in the wooden chair, cursing under her breath. Her arms cross over her chest, her t-shirt riding up a bit above her jeans.

You saw the way Ellie looked at Dina. She looks at her like she hung the moon. She was always fumbling over her words around her, nervous to say the wrong thing. When she did try to flirt, it came up awkward and strained. And you understood her predicament because you were the same way about Jesse.

You both were pining after two people in a committed relationship.

“It doesn’t matter anyway,” She mumbles, gesturing towards the center of the room where Dina and Jesse slow danced. He was leaning down to whisper something in her ear and it made your stomach flip. “She would never go for me.”

You felt bad for Ellie. She was everything you wished you were yourself; beautiful and funny. You felt like you were the only one, besides the Millers, who got her dry humor. You two had met in class about two years ago, now. You were a newcomer to Jackson, arriving about two months prior with your mom. When you got seated next to Ellie, you could tell her give-no-fucks attitude would mesh well with your give-too-many-fucks attitude. Over the years, you two had really rubbed off one another. You two were inseparable.

“You’re the whole package, Els,” You say before nudging her shoulder with your elbow. You two are moping at a table near the exit of the food hall. It was Tommy’s birthday celebration, so everyone in Jackson got together to plan a big bash for him. Ellie felt obligated to come and your mom was pretty close to Maria. More time spent with your best friend wasn’t time wasted, so here you are.

“At least she shows you the time of day,” You say under your breath.

Jesse had been pretty flippant with you. He could never remember your name, let alone that you two shared the same street in Jackson. You also once shared a table at the mess hall. He was so tall and strong. Your crush on him was more physical than it was emotional. He was funny, sure, but you mainly just wanted to get him alone.

“Why are we doing this to ourselves?” She ponders, finally looking away from the canoodling couple across the room, “We could do so much better!”

You know she’s just trying to convince herself of something she doesn’t really believe. The tone of her voice changes when she’s lying.

“Like who? Slim pickin’s out here, Ellie. We have them and maybe 4 other undesirable people. There’s always the butcher’s son, he always had eyes for you.”

She grabs her cup from the table in front of you, “Yeah, men are… not my type.”

You turn your body so your legs are nudging her thighs, “Then, you really don’t have any choices.”

She nods her lips in a thin line. “I wish I could just.. Just go up there and talk to her. Ya know?”

“Why can’t you?”

“The same reason you can’t just go up and talk to Jesse.”

You roll your eyes, leaning forward on your knees. Your body is practically in her bubble, but she just sits back with her arm over the back of your chair.

You and Ellie had no real boundaries. You had no qualms about physical touch and Ellie never said anything or seemed to mind. You two have shared a horse countless times and even a bed. She never steered away from you.

“Well, Dina will talk to you if she sees other girls talking to you,” you state, reflecting on the last time everyone in Jackson got together. Some random girl came up to you two and as soon as Dina saw Ellie laughing with the other girl, she scrambled across the room to see what the fuss was about. You saw the same glint in her eyes that Ellie had.

For some reason, it made you kind of jealous.

You never tried to explore those knee-jerk emotions you had for Ellie. She was your best friend and you were positive she never felt romantic feelings towards you. Plus, you weren’t sure of your feelings about your sexuality. You always told Ellie you just liked who you liked, not really putting any importance on what was between their legs. You weren’t very experienced, but you had hooked up with both genders and liked it all equally.

“That was a coincidence, bug.”

That stupid nickname that she called you. Born from the one time you practically attracted every infected in the area with your scream over a huge beetle. She could not let it go and ended up calling you bug, just to annoy you.

You finally look up at her freckled face, waiting for her to crack a smile. When you squint at her with contempt, she smirks.

“Why don’t we find another girl and test the theory?”

She glances around the populated party, “Everyone here is over the age of 40.”

You turn back to the crowd of people around you and see that she’s right.

You mull it over, your brain working to find a way that you both could get their attention. You two could simply say fuck it and go watch a movie and forget this stupid encounter happened. Joel would probably chew Ellie out, but when doesn’t he do that?

Your next idea is something dangerous but something you had thought about before. You had never brought up the idea to Ellie because you were afraid of her reaction.

“What’s your idea?”

She could read you like a book. You pursed your lips, wondering if you should even propose the idea to her.

“How desperate are you?”

She laughs out loud, completely taken aback by the query. “Jesus, what are you thinkin’?”

You lick your lips, trying to make sure the idea comes out as a whisper.

“Why don’t we make them jealous? Just you and me?”

“How though?”

You bite the inside of your cheek, “Well, I’m a girl.”

You glance back at where Dina and Jesse were just dancing. They are both now facing you two’s direction, Jesse engrossed in a conversation with Tommy. Dina is just sipping from her glass, not really staring anywhere specific.

You look back at Ellie who’s also looking at her, but meets your eyes when your face gets closer to hers.

You would tell her how beautiful she was all the time and she just would roll her eyes and change the subject. You were physically attracted to her and there had been a couple of times you had thought about kissing her and wondered what her lips would feel like against yours.

But she was your best friend.

“Wrap your arm over my back,” You are still positioned, your elbows on your knees, your knees facing her thighs, “And rub it.”

She furrows her eyebrows, but she submits and brings the arm that is slouched over the chair to your lower back. You nod, watching as her lids lower. Her hand creeps up and down your side, her fingers grazing your ribs, up to your side boob. “Now what, bug?”

“Now, slowly move your hand up my back,” She does it as you’re speaking and the movement makes the hairs on your arms stand up, “Grab the nape of my neck.”

“Why are you making me do this?”

You lift up off your hands, bringing your face closer to hers. She doesn’t budge, sitting still and only focused on you and your words.

“Because,” Her hand grabs the back of your neck, before slowly bringing it forward to collar bone. The gentleness of her touch and the fact that it’s your Ellie, makes every sense heightened. You don’t even realize how her touch is making you feel until you see her crack a smile.

“Because why?” She whispers, her voice teasing.

“Cause I want them to see you touch me.”

It comes out needy and desperate. Her eyes change when it slips from your lips, instead of being playful, she’s looking at you like you’re her next meal. She leans forward, her face millimeters from yours.

You had never talked to Ellie like this but at this moment, you were completely transfixed on her. She was wearing a flannel over her shoulders covering her usual gray t-shirt. The sleeves were rolled up exposing the tattoo Cat did on her a year ago.

You always thought it was hot, the way it trailed up her arm from her delicate wrist.

Her jeans are ripped and her legs and man-spreaded like she was carrying something in her jeans.

And she smelled like pine. You loved it when you got the privilege to sleep next to her because her linens always smelled like her. You would love the idea of getting into bed with her right now.

“How do you want me to touch you?”

You chew the inside of your lip, “Any way you want to.”

She chuckles before brushing her hand down your exposed arm, “Is this for the bit or do you want me to genuinely touch you?”

You notice her being sincere. You think back to all the times you joked about sleeping with Ellie, and while at the time you chalked them up to being jokes, deep down, maybe it’s actually what you wanted.

With the way she’s looking at you now, you prayed on every star that she would continue pushing your buttons. That somehow she would forget Dina even exists and realize it was you all along.

“Hey guys,” Her voice brings you out of your horny daze. It was the last voice you were expecting, and you can tell by the look on Ellie’s face, she is thinking the same thing.

“Oh, hey Dina!” You quip up, not moving all the much to ensure she sees Ellie’s hand on your bicep.

“You two busy?” The way she asks is almost too demanding. You glance back over at Ellie whose color is draining from her face.

You shake your head, finally sitting up. Ellie’s hand doesn’t leave you though, instead, it just drops to your thigh. You try not to acknowledge it, as you notice Jesse coming up behind Dina. But now it feels so heavy against your legs, the weight of the situation finally hitting you.

It worked.

“We are just talking,” Ellie manages, her voice cracking.

Jesse comes up behind Dina, wrapping his arms around her. You’re suddenly grateful that Ellie’s hand is still on you, the jitters hitting your system subsiding by the physical feeling of her being so near.

“Looked like more than that,” Jesse jokes, his smile taking up a lot of his face, “You good Ellie?”

“Ellie was just telling me about the patrol she just went on with Jesse,” You explain quickly, making sure to look at Dina and not Jesse. “She told me about the infected y’all ran into!”

“Oh yeah, shit was crazy,” Jesse squeezes Dina tighter, “We gotta get back out there again, Ellie. You were a beast at taking those suckers down.”

“U-uh yeah, absolutely.”

You grab her hand as a reassurance. The exchange gets awkward quickly, none of you knowing what else to say.

“Well, we should get goin’,” Dina says tapping Jesse’s arms, “See you two around?”

You two just nod. They walk away, not saying much of anything else. You stare at the wall, humiliated by the last 10 minutes of your life. You were unsure if you could even look Ellie in the eyes again.

Ellie huffs loudly, sitting further back in her chair. “Well, that failed.”

You start to agree until that little bit of Ellie that’s rubbed off on you starts to come up your throat. The not-giving-much-of-a-fuck is creeping up on you.

“Did it? Because I think it went exactly how I wanted it to.”

You finally return your eyes to her bewildered expression. You pull her hand off your lap as you stand up, yanking her up after you.

“You wanted it to go like that? What was the point?”

You pull her closer to you before raising your lips up to her ear. Her hair is tucked behind the crest of her ear, so it tickles your nose a bit before you speak.

She turned you on, so now you needed her to do something about it. Here’s to not giving a fuck.

“The point was to get you to finally touch me.”

The temperature in the room rises a million degrees. Ellie’s eyes light up at the statement and you know that was exactly what she wanted to hear before Dina came up to you.

You start to pull her towards the kitchen door, right near your table. You remember finding a hidden supply closet back there last Christmas party. Your skin was on fire as you dragged her through the appliances to the somewhat large closet. It was practically empty, void of anything anyone at the party may need, so it was safe. Plus it had a lock.

As soon as the door shuts behind her, Ellie’s on you. Her lips hit yours and it was exactly how you imagined it. She was quick and eager with her kisses, her tongue plunging into your mouth immediately. She was grabbing your hips, pushing you towards the wall where all the brooms and mops were. You try not to trip, giggling as you pull her face closer to you.

“So this is what you wanted?” She pulls away from you for a breath, “Using making Dina jealous as a ploy to get to finally kiss you?”

Your hands find the spot above the hem of her jeans, right under her t-shirt. Out of instinct, you start to unbutton her pants.

“Actually, that wasn’t the plan.”

Her eyes are trained on your lips, “Is that so?”

“No, but you were playing the part way too well and I realized something.”

“What did you realize?”

The overhead light was so dim but you could still somehow see her cute freckles.

“That I want you more than I want anyone else. I need you to touch me more often.”

She chuckles, her fingers still pressed into your hips, “Well, bug, I’m touching you just like you asked.”

She drags kisses up your jaw and neck. You try not to fall apart over that alone. Ellie always talked about how inexperienced she was, but she’s probably the most tentative kisser you have ever encountered.

“Can you touch me here?”

You press your hands to the zip of your jeans. She looks down at your body to where you’re touching and she clicks her tongue.

“Ask politely, baby, and I’ll do anything you want.”

The nickname change makes your heart stop.

“Can you, my sweet best friend, touch me and get me off? Please?”

She groans at the question, a sound you never thought she’d make for you.

“Of course,” She grabs the belt loops of your pants before yanking them down your legs without resistance, “What are friends for?”

You know you’re soaked by the way she smiles up at you. She gets down on her knees, looking up at you, as her hands slowly start to spread your legs. You are standing against a wall, watching your best friend’s face creep close to your center.

It’s the hottest thing you’ve ever seen. She pulls at your panties, toying with the fabric before you take matters into your own hands and pull them down your legs.

She brings her lower lip between her teeth, “This wet for me?”

You could slap the stupid smirk off her face, but before you can even say something snarky back, she slips her digits between your glistening slit. Your body practically buckles at the prodding, so you brace yourself against the shelf next to you.

Your normal reaction to feeling good is to close your legs together tightly, but Ellie has her left hand mounted to your inner thigh, keeping you open for her, while the other one is slowly creeping up to your weeping hole. She’s gentle when she puts one finger inside you.

Once your body reacts around her, she pulls her finger out to inspect how wet you are. After she’s satisfied with her findings, she adds another which causes you to mewl at the sensation.

“Ellie, please,” You beg, trying to get more friction. She’s not letting you do anything but watch.

“Mmm,” She hums before moving her face closer to you, “Love to hear you moan my name, bug. You wanna be a good girl? Keep begging.”

You never took Ellie as someone who loves to hear her sexual partner beg, but it turns you on even more.

You watch her close in on your clit, her tongue finding the bud and flicking it a couple of times. The moans that come out of your mouth are so deprived. Her fingers slip so seamlessly in and out of you, that you try to remember a time you were so wet. Nothing comes to mind because all your brain is thinking is Ellie, Ellie, Ellie.

“Please, please,” you plead, trying your best to egg her on so she goes faster. It works because she picks up the pace fucking you. Her mouth suddenly closes around your clit, and she sucks.

Your one hand is still gripping onto whatever is next to you, but your other hand has to rest somewhere. Her short brown locks are right there, so you grab on.

Her mouth leaves your clit, and instead, her tongue licks up and down your weeping hole. When you bring her closer in, her nose starts to stimulate your sensitive bud.

The sounds are so wet and depraved, you’re sure the bubbling in your stomach is about to come to a tipping point. You find yourself grinding forward, trying to get friction on your clit again. Her nose prods the spot over and over again as you grind down onto her face.

Ellie hums as she fucks you, trying her best to push your limit. You know you’re close and you are sure she can feel how tight your pussy is gripping onto her fingers. She knows you’re close so she kicks it up a notch and shakes her head between your folds. That motion alone sends a tidal wave within you crashing to the shore. You pull her hair so hard, you know it probably hurts but fuck, you needed her to feel how good she was making you feel.

The white-hot feeling starts to subside and you are panting like you just ran a mile. You finally release Ellie’s head, letting her come up for air. Her lips are saturated with your slick and it looks like she’s drunk on you by the way her eyes are half shut. She pulls her two fingers out of your tight hole, making you whine at the emptiness.

She stands up, bringing her two fingers up to your lips.

“Wanna see how good you taste?”

She’s so fucking dirty. It gets you so riled up.

You grab onto her wrist and bring the fingers up to your mouth. You suck them dry, giving into how absurd this is.

“You’re a freak, too,” She beams at you, before bringing you into another feverish kiss. You were so mesmerized by her. She grabs onto your hips, pulling your naked bottom half to her still-clothed legs.

“Why didn’t we do this sooner?” You grumble, still recovering from the drilling you just had. Her hands travel up your sides, under your t-shirt. She is holding onto your ribcage, looking at your exposed tummy as the shirt rides up.

“I didn’t think you’d go for me, especially when guys like Jesse are your type,” She explains, so enthralled by the way your body looks to her, “I don’t know if I can let him have you, now.”

You smirk, your hands twisting around her shoulders, “Oh, I see. Well, if he can’t have me, then Dina can’t have you.”

“Well, thank God they have each other, then.”

#ellie williams #ellie williams x reader #ellie williams tlou #ellie williams oneshot #ellie tlou #ellie x reader #ellie the last of us #ellie x fem reader #tlou2 #the last of us 2 #gracieheartspedro #tlou ellie #ellie williams x you #ellie williams smut

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rboooks · 1 year

Text

Child Support Part 2

Tim watched the other young heroes as they tried to look around the watch tower without seeming like they were. He's been here plenty of times, but the rest of the Teen Titans and a few of the Young Justice hasn't.

Much was due to the older heroes leaving the younger ones alone. Some not taking them seriously enough to welcome them at the big HQ as much as that made his blood boil.

They were taking the same risks. They were fighting the same good fights. Why was their age the main reason they weren't treated equally?

Some teenage heroes weren't part of a team per see, but they always answered when a call was sent. For example, Cass and Steph were present, speaking softly to Static Shock. Damian was standing next to Jon and his little friend Colin who was just getting into the swing of the hero business.

Bruce almost bit through his tongue when Damian told him Abuse would be joining Robin on parol, and he could do nothing to stop them. (Tim felt like he was watching Damian tell Bruce a paraphrased version of "But Daddy, I love him!" and it kept him smiling for weeks)

It was wild to see almost every young hero in one place. He doesn't think this happened since the last time Justice Leauge got mind controlled and almost destroyed the whole world.

"Any idea why we're here?" Kon asks to his right, lowering his shade to stare at the Outlaws. Jason's team stood to the side chatting iddly while cleaning over thier weapons.

Kon's always like their punk point of view, and he knows his best friend wants to go over there to talk to them. If it wasn't for the issue of the clone still being mad about what Jason did at the Teen Titans tower. Almost murder was hard to forgive for people outside the Bats.

"None. All I know is that John Constantine sent out a message to every teenage superhero group calling for a meet-up," Tim responds.

Bart whistles with a grimace on his right. "Must be bad if that guy is asking."

"I heard Hawkwoman tell Superman that she was worried and wasn't sure she wanted anyone of us mixed up in Constantine's mistakes." Cassie chimes in from where she leans on the couch. The three turn to her as she lowers her voice, attempting to keep the others from hearing. "Batman told her off for it."

"Batman did?" Tim asks, surprised.

Cassie shrugs, throwing a bit of her blond hair over her shoulder. "As much Batman can emote anyway."

Yeah, that sounded about right. Though it must have been something Bruce found disrespectful. His dad usually never reprimanded strangers unless they were saying something or doing something that sounded far too much like bigotry to him.

But to apply that to Constantine? Someone, Bruce generally disliked communicating with because the man tended to backstab his contacts? Yes, Constantine wasn't evil, but he wasn't pleasant either.

If Bruce had magical issues, he tended to contact Zatanna first.

Just then, the watch tower's zeta beams activate. Everyone who gathered turns to the teleporting pads where Constantine appears looking, for lack of a better word, absolutely exhausted. Even Tim knows that his eye bags aren't that bad, and he's usually going hours without sleep.

"Oh good, you all made it," Constantine says, sipping from a mug and wearing nothing but sweatpants and what looks like a nightgown. His signature trench coat was nowhere in sight. "I'm going to be quick about this. I need a team of young heroes willing to accept my son into their fold."

The room is dead silent. Constantine sighs. "Look, I've tried everything, but it's like Danny is allergic to laying low. He fought with a demon the other day over a child's doll- which you all know happens. People get haunted! But Danny refused to do it the right way, and now I had to beat off the demon's marriage proposal at least ten times. Not to mention his lack of social skills! No matter which one I stick him in, he can't seem to make friends in school. He got shoved into a locker on his first day! I thought that was an American exaggeration of the telly!"

Constantine pauses and takes a large gulp of whatever he's drinking before continuing his rant. A hand runs through his already messy hair, leaving it in bigger disarray as he speaks. "He's behind in terms of trends and technology cause his other father raised him outside of the typical timelines, so sometimes it's like talking to someone from the early two thousand, and other times it's like he's a modern Victorian era lad. His powers are also all over the place because the ectoplasm in our world is thicker, so when he breathes it in, he losses his control. Just the other day he accidentally made himself fly through our ceiling and almost reach the atmosphere before I was able to bring him back down."

A few of the fliers in the room wince. Jon nods and whispers under his breath, though his voice carries in the silence. "Yeah, been there before. Flying can be scary if you don't know how to come down."

Johns glances around at all the young people, eyes showing a tad bit of desperation. "He's sad all the time now, and I don't know how to help. If working with you could help him make friends, I would be grateful. He's a great kid. He just needs to adjust."

Tim had no idea what to do with this information; how do you respond to arguably one of the strongest Justice League Darks' heroes asking for a play date for his son?

"How old is the child?" Damian's voice rings out. Colin's hand is attached to his sleeve, a slightly nervous smile on the boy's face as he attempts to hide from the staring heroes behind his brother. Tim bets that if he wasn't wearing the domino mask, they would be able to see slight tears in Colin's eyes.

Damian's other hand goes across his body to cover Colin's hand, and Tim fights a shit-eating grin. His eyes lock with Jason, and the two send each other knowing grins. Looks like Bruce did have to worry about Damian having a secret boyfriend.

He can't wait to tease Damian later.

"He's fourteen....or well, physically?" Constantine answers eagerly.

"What does that mean?" Kon asks this time.

"Okay, so he's half human, half ecto-being. He sired him with his other father, Clockwork, which was only four years ago in this dimension, but since he was raised in the Infinite Relemas, times move differently there? " The British man says, and Raven goes rigid.

"Clockwork, as in the most powerful Ancient?" She asks, looking horror-struck when Constantine nods.

Before anyone asked what that meant, the zeta tubes activated again without permission. Someone had hacked into their systems which were ten levels bad. Everyone naturally fell into a fighting stance, only to blink when a teenage boy stepped out with a loud excited screech.

"We're in space!" The teenager runs to one of the windows, pressing his hands and face up against the glass. "This is amazing!"

Tim only relaxes his muscles once Constantine clears his throat. "Chum...what are you doing here?"

"Oh. One of your curse rocks things started proposing to me again, so I ran out of the House of Mysteries. Thought I see what you were up to." The teenager says, turning around with a smile and utterly freezing at the sight of the gathered heroes.

He had dark hair, wide blue eyes, and the most adorable face Tim had ever seen. Not as sexy as Bernard, of course, but darn close. Judging by the looks of anyone attractive to males, most heroes thought the same.

"Um...hi?" He says, offering the Godsmack teenagers a helpless little shrug. "I'm Danny Constantine."

"It is a pleasure, Constantine." Damian marches over to him with all his little twelve-year-old authority. He barely reaches Danny's chest. "I shall look forward to working with you. Are you formally trained in combat or strictly magic?"

"Um...oh, I can throw a punch or two? I'm mostly self taught. I rely on my powers a lot?" Danny fumbles to answer throwing a desperate look at his presumed father.

"No matter. I shall have you begin training. My Beloved also needs to work on his form. There is no shame in this" Damian nods, and Constantine lets out a large sigh of relief. He jogs over to place a hand on his son's shoulder, giving him a one-sided hug

"Yes, Danny, you will join Robin, Superboy, and Abuse on missions. They agree to help you settle and get used to your ghost powers." Constantine smiles. "I'll give me time to discourage all those idiots from trying to trick you into marriage."

"Oh...okay. It's nice to meet you all. Please call me Phantom on the field. Um, are you the team leader?" He asks Damian as the three youngest boys lead him further into the watch tower.

Constantine watches them go with the brightest smile he's ever seen on the man's face. He looks back to the group, who were barely starting to pick their jaws off the floor and makes a shooing motion with his hand. "You lot are dismissed."

Then the man vanishes in a green portal.

There is a ringing silence until Barts blurts out. "I'm pretty sure this is where the Phantom Fan Club first formed. A historical moment."

Tim wants to take a nap.

( Part 1 )

#dcxdp crossover #dc x dp crossover #Child Support #Part 2 #John is trying his best #He's fighting off suitors from his son #Despite being very pretty Danny has a hard time making friends #He's the oldest in Damian's new team #I found the ship Damian/Colin the other day and I love it

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heart2beom · 1 year

Text

cliché

pairing: bsf!yeonjun x reader

genre: fluff, best friends to lovers, crack, little angst

synopsis: after yeonjun hears you referring to him as someone who's like a brother ...he tries his hardest to make you see him as a potential boyfriend.

or in which you're perplexed at all the movie hangouts your friend has been initiating.

warning: mature language, reader is assumed to be fem

notes: honestly, i always try to cut down the word count to make it more available for people who only read drabbles/blurbs but i just CANT. so here's another short oneshot T-T and as always, reblog to help the algorithm pick up on this :D

yeonjun was confused walking back home -- no, the whole day, he was disturbed. the reason for this was yesterday...when he went to get drinks for both you and him at a frat party.

the crowds were insanely hard to get through (and it didn't help that people kept on stopping him to 'catch up' or whatnot) so it took him more than fifty minutes to come back with the drinks he promised to get.

but it looked like it was too late because the people you were surrounding yourself with when yeonjun was there...disappeared. instead, you're bundled up, alone in a corner, with a guy he does not know. which was already weird because yeonjun knew everybody, and that was enough reason for him to hurry his ass up through sweaty frat drunks and make sure the unknown guy isn't some sleazeball.

that time he wasn't aware that he rolled his eyes but he did conciously plan to squeeze himself into the conversation...and technically cockblock.

but when he neared you...that's when his world shattered...on more dramatic terms. it was more like his confidence was shot down to the deepest depths of hell.

"oh, yeonjun? pfft, he's like a brother!"

even though it was almost barely audible due to the blasting music, 'brother' to his ears were magnified -- the word circling through his head.

brother. brother?!

and as a result of this baffling situation, he had backed himself in an opposing corner with your cup in his right and his cup in his left, way further than you now, thinking of where did it go wrong?

he's never had someone friend-zone him -- for heavensake, he's yeonjun, he's aware of how attractive he is. but brother-zone? that was even worse of an attack!

it doesn't matter that you said it -- come on, that's barely the case. it's the fact that someone was so unattracted to him that he was seen as a sibling.

sure, you and yeonjun were a sort of bunch that have been together since... forever, really. seriously, you were friends since elementary -- when you joined the school, fourth grade, mindlessly kicking rocks at recess he approached you like the social butterfly kid that he was, asking you if you wanted to come play with his friends.

once he took another sip of the red cup in his right hand, the fruity punch being way too overbearing (just how'd you like it), he furrowed his brows together.

he definitely doesn't see you as a sister.

he'd have to admit that when middle school hit and his puberty was acting up around ...the seventh grade? he was convinced that he would eventually marry you like the way his parents were. a brother wouldn't have felt that way about his sister! normally that is...

granted, he mostly blamed that on the first strikes of puberty because right after middle school, he moved on from the thought -- completely abandoning his pre-puberty dreams, but that was besides the point!

he was getting nauseous from the sweetness of his drink and the further he thought about the way you thought of him, he felt that he would ruin the party by vomiting on someone.

his night was officially ruined. absolutely, fundementally, literally ruined.

and thats how he found himself unfocused on everything around him the next day, finally making the decision to consult with his roommates about this frankly, very big conundrum.

"you can't just purposefully leave out important details? like, how am i supposed to diagnose you properly bro?" beomgyu asked as he spammed the keys on his controller.

"you're not diagnosing me--" yeonjun exhaled, wanting to to keep the banter to the minimum in respect to the issue he's facing. "literally what do you think we're doing right now?"

"i'm going to be completely honest and say ...i have no idea-- shit, what the fuck are you doing heeseung? jump! jump!" he yelled towards the big screen in front of him.

yeonjun groaned, turning his head to behind the couch. "soobin, it's not too late to help out your only friend!" he yelled out in hopes of it reaching the guy's bedroom.

and with no response, he turned back to watching the game beomgyu was playing. "god, you know how many times i gave that guy life changing advice on women?"

"and this is how he repays me?"

beomgyu nodded along to whatever yeonjun was mumbling about until the brunette magically connected dots and euphoric realization hit him. beomgyu almost scrambled around to completely face him this time, "hold on, hold on. yeonjun you lost me, are you having girl problems?"

to that, yeonjun rolled his eyes. "i wouldn't call it 'girl problems', that sounds like a problem soobin would have."

"uh-huh ...uh-huh. no, no yeah." beomgyu said nodding mindlessly to save the guy some face. "heeseung i'm logging off dude, yeonjuns got girl problems."

yeonjun just deadpanned to the back of the guys head, having no will to correct him.

he wanted to get the pending issue out of the way first.

it was more situated a few minutes later. instead of beomgyu sitting on the floor criss crossed, leaned on the couch yeonjun was sitting on, beomgyu was now sitting on the chair next to the couch, his elbows on his knees, brows deeply furrowed.

and not to forget yeonjun's pen and paper in hand.

"so... you're trying to get a girl to like you?"

"not like. i want her to see me as someone she would want as a boyfrie--" when he saw beomgyus brow raising up as to say 'whats the difference' he cleared his throat. "yea, basically."

"don't you know how to do that though?"

he shrugged, "it's different this time."

"how?"

"trust me, it's very different."

"okay but how?"

"you'd be the last person i'd ask for an interrogation beomgyu, that'd be a task for like... taehyun or something."

"i'm sorry that i need to understand my client first--"

"i am not your client" yeonjun said, rolling his eyes.

"what's going on here?", yeonjun turned his head to see soobin behind the kitchen island, scooping himself some icecream.

"dude, where were you when i needed you?", yeonjun asked.

"me and yj are holding a dating therapy session."

yeonjun turned his head to beomgyu, "again, it's not a therapy sessio--"

"you're getting dating advice from beomgyu?" soobin asked, his face scrunched up doubting if it really got this bad.

and back to soobin. "when you say it like that.." "soobin can you please leave yeonjun alone? he's in a very vulnerable state right now"

then beomgyu again. "i'm seriously going to beat you up." he said, biting his bottom lip and raising his fist against his roommate. beomgyu immediately jumps dramatically, shielding himself with his arms up.

"see? he's getting violent!"

soobin finally plopped on the couch next to yeonjun with his cup of icecream. "explain it to me, maybe i can help you out."

"i'll save you the trouble, he's not explaining for whatever reason--"

"a girl said that i'm like a brother to her." yeonjun reluctantly mumbled.

a wave of silence hit the dorm, for a minute yeonjun thought they just didn't hear him and to be completely honest, he was about to thank the gods because he regretted saying anything the moment he did, but that thought was immediately shot down when both sides of his ears were being blasted by humiliating laughter.

soobin got up, patting yeonjun's shoulder as reassurance, still laughing. "yeah, good luck with that hyung."

"okay, it's not even that bad--"

"dude, not even cha eunwoo would survive the sibling zone." beomgyu said, a hard reality check for yeonjun. "though hyunbin might.." he mumbled to himself. yeonjun caught it though, but it didn't matter. yeonjun was no hyunbin.

"fuck." he breathed out, the utensils he was holding had lesser grip on them as he just stared into nothingness. beomgyu was right. he's forever stuck as a brother in your eyes.

but then a ring of his phone snaps him out of it.

when he checks the id, his ambition is restored almost immediately for whatever reason; it was you.

"yo why are you smiling?", beomgyu said trying to peep at yeonjun's phone, but yeonjun reflexes took over, and he immediately turned his phone off.

"beomgyu, don't you think i kind of resemble hyunbin?" he said with a head tilt and an overconfident smirk, talking like he just had an epiphany.

"the one from crash landing on you? uh no."

yeonjun jumped from the couch a new man, his pen and paper in one hand and his ringing phone on the other. he finally faced beomgyu as the man he was, choi motherfucking yeonjun. "i gotta answer this call...and also, if you ask anybody who my celebrity doppelganger is, everyone would proudly say its hyunbin dumbass."

then yeonjun left with a smile and a surge of new confidence overtaking his face as he spoke away on the phone with you, while beomgyu was left in the living room more than confused as he looked up the actor on his phone.

instead of finding the difference, beomgyus brain was tasking him into finding the similarities...which, there was one to yeonjun's credit.

black hair.

"when are the others coming?" you asked looking around the crowded floor as yeonjun was buying popcorn and drinks. "the movies about to start.." you mumbled, checking your phone for the hundredth time.

"oh, i guess its just me and you again." he said with the popcorn and bottle of coke finally in his arms.

"again? don't you think this is getting suspicious?" you said as you walked alongside yeonjun, not noticing the way yeonjun just gulped.

you stopped in your tracks, in turn yeonjun bumping into your back a little, a few popcorns dropping on the floor.

"hey...you don't think.." you furrowed your brows, in deep thought. this has been on your mind for a while now. "you don't think they're trying to set us up or something do you?"

after the third time your friends stood you and yeonjun up, you were starting to think they were pushing, what they called, the 'ynjun' agenda..but it was the first time you'd ever bring it up to yeonjun, so you just laughed it off -- scolding your friends will come on a later date.

"nevermind, lets go inside the movie theatre jun."

"ya' y/n, wait."

you turned around to an awkward standing yeonjun at first, but he immediately straightens up and clears his throat, with a smile you've grown so attached to -- the smile that reached his eyes. for something so simple, it made your heart beat a little quicker than normal.

"can you hold the coke for a sec? i'm trynna--i'm trynna do something."

you break into a light laugh, "um, okay." that snapped you out of it because you remember who he was again -- your platonic best friend.

you took the cola bottle off his right arm, expecting him to take his phone out of his pocket to check something.

but as you stared at your sneakers, checking if they're untied, you felt his hand on top of your head, which startled you.

you looked up to meet yeonjuns eyes, a brow raised.

before you could say anything, he ruffled the top of your hair gently, leaning towards you a bit, to shorten the height difference.

"y/n, let this be our first date." your platonic best friend's voice, so warm and gentle you thought you would only hear in dreams, said those words...to you.

"so you asked her out on a date but you don't even like her...? that doesn't make any sense." soobin said, sitting on the couch watching beomgyu hog up the tv screen, his use time running out.

"bros an asshole..but i feel like we knew that already-- fuck you heeseung. you fucking suck ass you need to get off my team." beomgyu yelled.

"okay, first of all, it's not that bad. she doesn't like me at all, plus the date was how we would usually hung out anyway."

soobin just shook his head -- being the only guy with a functioning moral compass amongst the people he called his friends was exhausting.

as soon as he was about to lecture yeonjun, the tv timer goes off -- and that makes his plan a fleeting thought.

"it's my turn now, throw me the remote."

"bro give me a second, let me finish this gam--"

"no! unplug your console." soobin yelled impatiently, he knew better than to let beomgyu go over the timer again.

beomgyu groaned, abandoning heeseung in the game and unplugging his console. when soobin got control of the tv and opened up netflix, beomgyu stood up to sit next to yeonjun -- who had gotten a notification from you.

"yj, who's the chick? you never told us."

"uh, you don't really know her." he mindlessly answered, focused on the messages from you.

[y/n, 9:16 pm] that serenade ..as cringe as it was.. [y/n, 9:16 pm] like lets be serious, there was NO reason for u to get on top of the cafeteria table lol

he hadn't yet told his roommates what he did this morning, thinking that he'd get a longer lecture by soobin.

but he had took inspiration from the movie you guys were watching the other night at the cinema. you talked his ear off about how romantic it was, how you would fall at the feet of dicaprio if he did the same to you..

he was no dicaprio, but he could try is what he thought. and though you forced him to get down half way through, he could still enjoy sharing the laughter, your laughter, that was ringing in his ear.

[yeonjun, 9:17 pm] as cringe as it was...? you're in love w me ;)

he typed it as a joke, a smile tugging on his lips waiting for your reaction to his teasing.

but beomgyu hovered over his phone out of boredom again, and out of instinct yeonjun threw his phone -- the three chois looking at the phone on the floor in shock.

"bro, why are you being so secretive? were you sexting?" beomgyu yelled, accusatory.

"can we collectively have some decency in this house, jesus fucking christ beomgyu." soobin muttered.

"shut up church boy, yeonjun's hiding something for sure."

"or maybe he just wanted some privacy dude?" soobin retaliated.

yeonjun jumped up pointing at soobin, "exactly! exactly! listen to soobin, you were invading my personal space. so not cool beomgyu."

"yeah, okay. you've never agreed with me with this much enthusiasm before. he's hiding something. quick, check his phone." to soobins order, beomgyu was prepared to run to the phone when he made eye contact with the owner -- but yeonjun was quick.

"good god, wait wait. what do you want beomgyu--fuck, if you wanted her name it's y/n alright? the chick's y/n!" yeonjun doesn't do well under pressure, at all.

"what are you talking about--" beomgyu's face morphed into shock with his mouth agape. "--oh my fucking god. yeonjun, y/n's the chick? the one who brother zoned you?" beomgyu yelled.

"yeah...?" he said hesitantly.

"i can't--i just can't. soobin knock some sense into him." beomgyu turned away dramatically, shaking his head.

"yeonjun--" soobin started.

"dude, y/n has been in love with you for like a decade!" beomgyu blurted out, turning to face yeonjun again, interrupting soobin.

"uh..no? guys, i literally told you that she said she sees me as a brother. i saw her telling some guy that at the frat party last week."

beomgyu walked towards yeonjun, grabbing both of his shoulders, shaking him, "she. didn't. brother. zone. you. you stupid fuck!"

"she's been saying that to people because its so obvious that every time she tries moving on, she still likes you." soobin added in.

yeonjun, with his brows furrowed, tore beomgyu's hands off his shoulder -- walking towards his phone.

and it felt like a million thoughts were racing around his head the three seconds it took for him to get his phone, like a storm, a big tornado clouding his mind. but the most heavy was...how long? a fucking decade? and he never noticed?

he found it hard to swallow, almost nervous...that it was true.

the two other chois were staring at him, exchanging glances.

and when he picked up his phone, it was like he feared.

his text was left on read.

yeonjun's roommates were right for once.

all the secret glances he'd catch, a smirk twitching on his face as he pretended not to see, all the times you'd practically asked him out -- he shot it all down subconsciously thinking it was nothing more than coincidences on top of coincidences.

"you know, i was thinking it was weird you freaked out so much about the brother thing. yunjin told you that right to your face like last month and you didn't say anything." beomgyu said as he let himself fall on the couch.

beomgyu was right, he didn't care when yunjin said it.

yeonjun looked at beomgyu, eyes confused. "so...what are you trying to say?"

"maybe you feel the same way...? god, do i have to spell it out for you every single time?" he said dramatically, groaning.

"okay yeonjun. drama's over, go do your walk of shame to your room." soobin said, getting comfortable on the chair again to watch the premier of his show.

"and reflect!" beomgyu shouted out as yeonjun went over to his room, obeying soobin with his phone tight in hand.

"what are we watchin?" beomgyu finally asked, soobin giving him a side eye in response.

"we? beomgyu, i'm not watching another show premier with you again."

"just because my commentary is too good doesn't mean you have to get all jealous--"

yeonjun bursts out of his room through the narrow hallway that lead to the main door, a coat hanging on his right arm as he hurriedly slipped on his sneakers.

it startled both of the guys on the couch, looking over at him with brows raised: what is yeonjun doing?

no one could get a word in, not even beomgyu, before he was totally out of sight.

only adrenaline was rushing through his veins as he shut the door behind him, putting his arms through his padded coat, and sprinting to the elevator -- frantically spamming the button to make him falsely hope the elevator would reach his floor any faster

it wasn't like he had to do something in the ten minutes his head thought he had left, no, it was the realization that had him acting in urgency he never thought he'd have for a girl. all of his stupidity dawning on him -- for fucksake, of course it mattered that you said he was like a brother, it was you.

and as he ran out the building -- his head felt dizzy, not because it was overwhelmed with thoughts, no, this time he only had a few but those were harder to manage his head.

did he ever give up on you in middle school?

did he ever move on from you in highschool?

did he really dump a dream, you -- the dream he had as a boy, with all the other dreams he never thought would happen?

when yeonjun was finally in front of your family house, the one you still chose to live in through your college experience, he moved to where'd he guess the window of your room was.

"y/n?" he shouted out with all the energy he could muster up. he had to bend over his knee to catch his breath, because he would shout your name again.

again, and again, and again.

blood rushed up to his cheeks, not because of the cold, because he was embarrassed -- what if you weren't even here?

he waited, staring up at the window which showed no sign of your room light being on.

but he wouldn't give up, he'd have to try something else.

yeonjun looked down at his feet, the absence of the sun being harder on his vision. there were no rocks, the only thing visible to his eyes were branch sticks which only made him hope that his aim was good enough to get your window a few times.

it wasn't.

when the last stick that he found hit a window that wasn't the one he was trying to aim at - he cursed under his breath, defeated. yeonjun concluded that this was a bigger fail than the fucking time he found out that he was flirting at a family--not a class, reunion.

he could just go back to his dorm and call you is what he thought as he exhaled, a fog escaping his lips into the cold, feeling even more of a loser.

"yeonjun?!" he turned around at the familiar voice calling out for him and his eyes widened, lighting up as they set on your face, finally out of the window, with your room light making it a little easier for him to see your features.

"y/n?" he shouted back, ecstatic.

"what are you doing out here?", you shouted the words slowly so he could pick it up. then add, "it's fucking cold!"

"i just wanted to know" he inhaled, the cold air burning his nostrils, "why you didn't answer my text!"

it was silent, yeonjuns lips agape waiting for a response.

"you're fucking insane!" you said laughs slipping between your words, yeonjun scoffs lightly, a wide smile on his face.

he put his hands up as walls to his mouth to echo his words louder, "for you!" he shouted out in response.

"shut the fuck up!" it was a distant yell, one you both assumed, as you met eye contact, was y/n's neighbors. and then you laughed again at the untimely part of it all.

when you turned away from the window, yeonjun found himself yearningly waiting for you to come back. hands that were in his pockets felt a vibration -- his phone.

he took it out just to see a notification from his, quite frankly, favorite person ever.

[y/n, 10:26 pm] lets talk on here lol

he looked up and saw you at the window again, with you waving your phone at him -- it earned a smile tugging once more, on the ends of his lips.

just how did he manage to ignore overwhelming feelings about you, of you, for the past decade?

[yeonjun, 10:27 pm] come down. i'm not gonna tell u this thru text [y/n, 10:27 pm] why not? [yeonjun, 10:27 pm] don't wanna [y/n, 10:28 pm] youre asking me to get out of my cozy ass room just bcs u dont wanna??

"yeah! basically dumbass!" he shouted, startling your poor self out of your focus on your phone. you glared at him, yeonjun most likely missing it.

[y/n, 10:28 pm] STOP DONT DO THAT THOSE PSYCHOS ARE GOING TO CALL THE COPS ON ME [yeonjun, 10:29 pm] ok then come down before i freeze my fingers off

when you slid your window closed, closing your curtains, he immediately turned to quickly run towards the front of your house. yeonjun leaned on the fence of your porch, smiling with thoughts of you clouding his mind, as he looked up at the moon.

it was all so cliché -- the type of scene his roommates would squeal over and one that he would roll his eyes to, but if he were to watch this part of his life, again and again -- the moment you opened the door, the moment you both exchanged looks that communicated 'we feel the same way don't we?', a short awkward laugh that was shared, the moment you hesitantly opened your mouth to say something -- and then, the final moment of his longing lips crashing onto yours, his cold hands warming up the moment he cupped your face, the repocracy from your side making him smile into the kiss, the euphoric realisation that he wasn't late, you didn't stop loving him yet, and when he cut the kiss short, both your lips barely apart, yeonjun whispered an i love you, and to it you smiled, pulling him into your house, to finish your kiss -- he would too, squeal over the scene, kicking his feet like a highschool girl.

ending a/n: YOU FINISHED IT YAY :D yeonjun was lowk an asshole for wanting to lead on mc at first for his own benefit, but hes such a cutie im sorry, its easy to forgive T-T let me know what you feel about this piece, it was so fun to write!!

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aliidarling · 1 month

Text

using you

RICK GRIMES X fem!reader

nsfw content — scroll if uncomfortable!!

summary: rick takes his anger out on you after lori's death because he's a self projecting loser and wants u really bad

warnings: p in v, no foreplay, rough sex, pussy slapping, age gap, degradation, mean rick, fingering, anal threats LOL, self projecting rick, old lonely rick, sweetish rick at the end ig

btw thank u everyone for sending me ideas for male manipulator rick pt.2 :) I'm definitely gonna take these into thought and write sum

i wrote this in three sittings like a week apart so some parts might not match up...

nsfw content below!!

Rick hadn’t come up from the basement of the prison in almost two days. No one had seen him, leading everyone to question if he was even alive anymore.

The death of Lori had impacted him. The atmosphere was tense, and not many words had been spoken. No one wanted to go down to comfort Rick, not wanting to get snapped at. Angry Rick was something else.

Hershel was the one who recommended you to go down and talk to Rick. At first, you were against it, because why? Carl was his son, Glenn was the first one he met out of everyone, and Daryl was like his brother. There was no reason why you should. You were just one of the younger girls in the group.

“Because he has a soft spot for you, sweetheart.” Hershel says gently, sighing and rubbing his temple. Your brows furrow as you think about his words.

“What? No— Rick hates me,” You scoff.

Every time you had tried to talk to the man he’d order you around and be cold to you, never letting you breathe without getting a stupid scolding. It was walking on eggshells around him.

“No, no.” He chuckles, brushing his hands through his thin white hair. He sits up. “He cares about you in his own little way, okay? You’re the only one here he wouldn’t hurt. Not that he’d hurt anyone else— but…” He groans. “You know what I mean.”

You frown at him, picking at your hair. You reluctantly stand up, tossing your jacket on top of your shirt. “If I don’t come back in an hour, you know what happened.” You grumble dramatically.

He rolls his eyes and waves you off, giving you a little grateful smile.

A few minutes later, you were walking down the staircase into the boiler room, a frown painted onto your expression. You could hear angry muttering and the sound of metal clattering.

Just on your way here you had heard him yelling, you didn’t know at who. It worried you, was he already going crazy? Or was someone else down here with him?

As you walk inside the small, dark room, a messy-looking Rick comes into view. His hair was messy, his curls damp with sweat as he grumbled angrily to himself, leaning against a table.

He quickly turns at the sounds of your footsteps, hands on his hips as he narrows his eyes at your figure. What the hell were you doing here? Did no one get the message that he wanted to be left alone?

“What.” He huffs firmly, his body language cold and distant. He was always mean to you, but this just felt different, like he was a ticking time bomb. It made you shudder as you nervously picked at your hair, stepping closer.

“You’ve been down here for a while, Rick. Everyone’s getting worried.” You said softly, looking up at the older man through your lashes. It felt weird to be so nice and caring to him, he had just lost his wife— you felt bad. Horrible, even.

And a part of you made your guilt ten times stronger knowing you were still attracted to him throughout this whole mess. Even though he had pushed you away so many times, called you names, and ordered you around like a child, you felt connected to him. Like you wanted more than a simple friendship.

But the fact he was mourning his wife's death and all you could think was how good he looked with his shirt half-buttoned and his curls messy? God, you were a horrible person.

A dry chuckle leaves him, the sound echoing in the room, making you shiver. His demeaning attitude towards you has you shrinking, wanting the walls around you to swallow you whole as long as that meant you didn’t have to be alone in a room with him.

“So worried they call you down here out of everyone else?” He scoffs.

Ouch.

“I’m just trying to be here for you, you don’t have to be such a jackass.” You sneered at him.

Once the words left your mouth, you felt kinda bad. He was struggling with his wife’s death, and here you were being rude to him.

A small sigh left you as you stepped forward, hesitantly placing your palm on his bicep, trying to give him a little bit of comfort. It was the least you could do, right? You had managed to screw up your entire friendship with this man, but maybe you could turn it around starting… now?

As he feels your touch on his bicep, he turns to you quickly in response— almost as a reflex— and presses you against the table aggressively. A yelp leaves you as you find yourself being cornered by the large man, looking up at him in shock.

Never mind, jeez.

“You wanna be here for me?” He growled, his hand going to hold your throat, not squeezing but keeping it there as a warning not to cross him.

You give him a shaky nod, not knowing what to say or do that wouldn’t cause his temper to blow. It already blew.. But you knew what he was capable of, and you were scared of getting on his bad side more than you already were.

“Use your words.”

“Yeah, I wanna help you.” You press your lips together nervously, giving him a hesitant nod.

His eyes darken, looking you up and down and weighing the options. He hums lowly, his hands slowly wrapping around your waist, his fingertips pressing into your skin through your shirt.

“Huh.” He can’t help but smile at you, but not a sweet one. A mocking grin. You shuddered.

“How about you start off by bending over that desk then? Since you wanna be good for me so badly.” He laughs darkly, flipping you around smoothly and kicking the back of your knee.

You stumble slightly and find yourself bending over the edge of the desk, a huff leaving you as you flinch in surprise. Instinctively, you try and straighten yourself but he keeps one of his hands pressed on your lower back.

“What are you doing? You know this isn’t what I meant—“ You say breathlessly, not having the power to fight back for some odd reason. The position had you tingling between your legs, your stomach in knots and your mouth dry.

You felt ashamed to be so into this. He was coping in an extremely unhealthy manner— but could you even stop him if you tried? Did you want to?

He ignores your words and grasps the back of your jacket, pulling it off and leaving you in your spaghetti-strapped tank top. It was hot in the prison, could you blame yourself for dressing in thinner clothing?

“Always dressed like a fuckin’ slut, begging for attention from me. Think I don’t notice? Hmm? How you’re always nagging me and trying your damnest to spend time with me?” His words leave him harshly as he leans over to push your hair over your shoulder, leaving your back empty for him without any distractions.

“Don’t say that.” You mutter softly, eyes fluttering as you feel his breath brush over your skin. Goosebumps appeared on your smooth skin, lips pressing together to conceal the heavy exhale you wanted to release.

“Why? Because you know I’m right?” He chuckles dryly. His hands rub over your back, grabbing the end of your top and pulling it up to bunch over your chest. Your heart skips a beat and you try to pull away, but he only pulls you closer, pressing his crotch firmly against your butt. He sighs in relief at the friction, grinding subtly.

The next few minutes are him just grinding against you from behind, muttering a mean ‘shut up’ whenever you’d let out a noise. This was for him. He didn’t care about you— didn’t care that he was leaving you needy and aching, all he wanted was to relieve himself.

“Take your pants off.” He grumbles, leaning back just a few inches to unbuckle his belt. He smoothly pulls it out of his jean loops, and then unzips his fly and pulls his jeans down. He’s fast and aggressive, and soon enough his hard cock is pressing against his lower tummy, his tip red and throbbing.

You blink in surprise, but you try and process his words quickly. Okay. He wants your pants off. This was for him to feel better, just take your damn pants off, dumbass. Don’t make his day worse.

Shakily, you pull your pants down to your ankles, your butt in front of him with your panties hugging your curvy hips. He stares down at you, eyes narrowing at the sight of the damp spot on your panties.

“Slut.” He kicks your legs open with his foot before landing a harsh slap against your pussy, making you cry out. Your brows furrow as you try to suppress your noises as he keeps going at it, his rough palm delivers harsh strikes to your sensitive area.

“O-Ow— Rick!” You whine, wiggling your butt as the slaps have you growing more and more wet. This was so embarrassing!

“Had I known you like gettin’ that pussy slapped I would have done it a lot sooner, sweetie.” He coos mockingly, a low snicker leaving his throat. He parts his hand from your panties. His large fingers grasp into your panties and pull them to the side, nudging your legs further apart and aligning himself with you.

“Take a deep breath, baby.” He huffs before thrusting himself inside you with one stroke, burying himself to the hilt. Your body tenses immediately, eyes watering at the large stretch your insides felt at the intrusion.

You immediately let out a shaky cry, clawing at the table for something to hold onto as you try and adjust to the feeling. His girth was thick, ripping you apart. The lack of foreplay and prep had you wincing.

“Awww, did I hurt ya’? Poor thing, little hole must burn sooo much.” His words sounded so mean, his dark eyes gazing down at your figure. He scanned each inch of your body. Your arch, your hips, waist, your hair— it all looked so good. He wanted to ruin you.

You struggle to speak as you feel him sit nice and snug inside you, your sight going blurry. You whimper like a pathetic puppy into the desk, the cold steel making you cringe and squirm. If he was gonna force himself in your pussy, couldn’t he of at least done it somewhere more comfy?

“S-Screw you,” You groan lowly, your eyes already rolling back. And he hasn’t even started to move yet.

“Mhmm, s’okay sweet girl, I’ll get there.” He hushed you gently. Your doughy flesh is so soft to his rough palms, making him smile as he grips your waist a little tighter. He uses your waist to hold you down as he starts to slowly pull out, leaving just the tip before slamming himself back inside. Not even a rag in your mouth could stop the moan that leaves you, your body wincing in a mix of pain and pleasure.

The next few minutes are messy and full of whimpering and shushing, your body quivering as he keeps thrusting into your hole like there’s no tomorrow. You were just a stress relief for him at the moment— a pretty face with a tight cunt he could fuck for hours.

Yeah, he was mean to you even before he decided to fuck you in this boiler room, but that was only because he didn’t know how to handle his emotions around you! You were a sweet young girl with a cute face and a good rack of tits, always trying to talk to him when he had a wife and a son, could he even interact with you without getting scolded by Lori?

He let out a shaky grunt as he slams his hips into you over and over again, watching your perfect ass jiggle at the force he put into you. Your noises were perfect, he had spent probably hours imagining how you’d sound with him inside you. He couldn’t count the amount of times he had imagined you while he was in bed with Lori. He was a horrible husband, but he blamed you for it. You were the reason of his lack of loyalty, so he may as well punish you for it. You were pretty much asking for it the second you came downstairs with that pretty face.

“Fuck, fuck,” He groans, bending over to press his chest flush against your back and pressing himself against you. He wanted you to feel every damn inch of him, feel how deep he was inside your dumb little pussy and how he made you feel.

“You feel that? Huh? Feel how fuckin’ deep I am inside that needy pussy? Can feel you squeezing me, sweetheart, must feel so good, right?” He shushes your cries as he manages to push his cock deeper, his fat head brushing against your sweet spot that has you clenching down.

“Mhm, feels so good.” You sniffle. He giggled lowly at how pathetic you sounded, almost feeling the urge to comfort you for a second.

He’s wanted this for so long. Half the reason why he was spiraling after Lori’s death was because of the agonizing guilt he felt for still fantasizing about you when he had a whole newborn waiting for him. But now he had you, and he was not gonna let you go, and even if you begged and cried— he had already sunk his claws(cock) deep inside you.

His hand reaches to the front of your neck to grasp it and pull you tighter against him, giving your neck a little squeeze. He hums in approval at how your body tightens around him, his hips picking up speed.

“Good, good, jus’ like that, good girl,” He mumbled, squeezing his hand around your neck just a tiny bit more, loving the expression that fell over your face. A few more long minutes of him inflicting a fast and rough pace that expresses his self-projecting hatred towards you pass, the both of you out of breath and sweating.

“Can I cum? Please?” You whisper shakily, a soft moan coming from you as his thrusts continue. Your lips quiver and struggle to choke out words as you feel him repeatedly slam into your g-spot, eyes watering from the pleasure and your legs going wobbly.

“Oh, oh please, Rick—!” A loud moan escapes your throat before you have time to hold it back. You had been stripped down to a cheap whore bent over a table, but you didn’t care, it felt so good.

He answers your question by squeezing your throat, reaching forward to rub your clit. You clenching down on him has him groaning and almost stuttering with his thrusts, brows furrowing as he starts to get a little sloppy with his rhythm.

Without wasting any time, you feel yourself cumming hard around his cock and spasming, crying out at the force. A few more tears slip as you whimper onto the table, shaky hands grasping at anything to hold onto it.

A crooked grin paints his face as he gazes down at your shaky figure, slowly pulling out and watching his cum drip out of your leaky hole.

He hums and gently picks you up and sits you down on top of the desk, parting your thighs open and pressing the cum back inside you. Your eyes widen slightly in shock as his large finger shoves itself back inside you, making you cry out at the sensitivity you felt.

“R-Rick,” You attempt to plead before he rudely shushes you, crumbling apart as he fingers you open brutally. More tears stream as he watches with an amused glint, taking in the sight of you crying as he shoves his fingers inside your pussy violently.

“You can take it, shush, be a good girl.” He mumbles, sliding them in and out smoothly without any stop, his other hand going to rub at your spent clit. He almost felt bad for you, but then he remembered you were the little brat making him think like an unloyal husband— and he resumed with his torture.

Once he has you coming apart on his fingers again, he slides them out of you and whistles meanly, smirking at his slick-covered fingers. He maintains eye contact with you as he brings them up to your mouth, tapping them against your lips.

“Please don’t.” You whine, trembling in embarrassment. Could this get any more humiliating?!

“Shut up and be a good fuck toy.” He grunts. You shrivel and slowly part your lips, taking his wet fingers and sucking gently, your eyes fluttering shut as you didn’t want to look him in the eye while doing this.

After cleaning his fingers, he parts from you and gives you a once over, scowling.

“You’re not too bad when you’re not being an annoying fuck, y’know. Maybe you should bend over for me more often.” He sniggers, pulling his jeans back up and buckling his belt back on. He tidies up his appearance and gives you a side-eye.

“I’m so telling Hershel.” You grumble, struggling to pull your pants back on with limping legs. He rolls his eyes and aggressively tugs them back on for you. You flinch at the force and almost stumble onto your ass but you eventually have your clothes back on you because of his help. You give him an awkward smile, and he just glares at you in return.

“…I guess you could say I did help you, right?” You grin sheepishly, before gasping softly as he pulls you in for a kiss. He mutters a small “Shut up,” against your lips before interlocking his with yours, his hands wrapping around your waist and pressing your body flush against his.

He parts slowly from you, a small saliva trail showing before dissolving mid-air. He stares down at you, before nudging you in the direction of the exit.

“Don’t tell anyone about this, kay? You tell a soul and I’ll shove it in your butt next time, brat.” He scoffs, turning away and gazing back at the wall like the depressed old man he is.

You can’t help but smile as you walk away.

Next time, huh?

You were a little delusional, but why the hell not?

#Spotify #rick grimes #rick grimes imagine #rick grimes smut #rick grimes x reader #the walking dead x reader #the walking dead #the walking dead smut

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mothandpidgeon · 13 days

Text

Unrequited (bfd! pre-outbreak!/Jackson!Joel Miller x f!reader)

Moth's Masterlist // follow @mothandpidgeon-updates and turn on notifications to stay updated with my fics!

pairing: bfd! pre-outbreak!/Jackson!Joel Miller x f!reader

rating: E 18+MDNI

summary: You arrive in Jackson 22 years after the outbreak only to be reunited with your best friend’s dad, the man that stole your heart and broke it when you were fourteen– Joel Miller.

contents: best friend's dad, age gap, outbreak night (nothing that isnt in ep 1), big angst, abandonment issues, brief suicidal ideation, daddy issues, grief, Joel guilt, unprotected p in v sex, reader doesn't know where Jakarta is, reader is not described physically but Joel picks (adult) reader up, moth never uses y/n.

wc: 9k

a/n: This has been a bitch to finish but I'm quite proud of where it ended up. It's the longest os I've written which makes me nervous nobody will want to read it but I hope you do.

Thank you a million times to @ezrasbirdie for making me finish this and betaing. Also thank you @lowlights for listening to me ramble on this! Dividers by @saradika-graphics

Old man, take a look at your life. I’m a lot like you. Neil Young

You’re waiting for Sarah on the front steps when she gets home. School ended nearly two hours ago and you’ve been sitting here a ball of nerves. The whole world seems to be uneasy this afternoon. You notice sirens, a team of fighter jets scrambling above. It's like your anxiety has spilled out of your chest and it’s taken life all around you.

You finger the corner of your notebook. On the inside are doodles— hearts and bubble letters. Juvenile daydreams put to paper. Your first name and after it his last, testing out the sound of who you would be if only you’d been born in a different decade. Mrs. Miller.

Sarah doesn’t look very happy to see you. It’s been two weeks since you’ve talked to her and you’ve never felt more lonely.

Her words still ring in your ears.

“It’s like you’re in love with my dad.”

“No I'm not!” you said, your whole body tingling with the heat of embarrassment. You’d never felt so exposed in your life.

“Sometimes I think that’s the only reason you’re even friends with me,” she said.

You've been ruminating on that accusation ever since. You pine for Mr. Miller the way only a fourteen year old can. It’s the kind of infatuation that makes you understand how Romeo and Juliet ended in tragedy. All-consuming, unrequited, so in love it hurts.

So maybe Sarah’s right. Your heart flutters every time Mr Miller appears in the kitchen, wearing a dark t-shirt that hugs his biceps. You try not to stare at his aquiline nose when he drives you home from Sarah’s soccer games. Sleep overs at the Miller’s house mean more opportunities to be around him, learn the little details that make him him. And there were plenty of sleep overs because your parents are always so busy fighting, they never bother to keep track of you.

But you’ve been in agony without your friend. It’s a pain sharper and more present than the yearning you’ve felt for Mr. Miller. You’ve talked to her every day since you moved to Austin in fourth grade and since this fight, there’s been an empty space in your heart.

“Hi.” You stand up, hoisting your backpack awkwardly over your shoulder.

“I’m supposed to go next door,” Sarah says.

“Can I just talk to you for a minute?” you ask.

She sighs but opens the front door with her key and lets you follow her into the living room.

“I’m sorry,” you say before you lose your nerve. “You’re right. I like your dad.”

It’s probably the most embarrassing thing you’ve ever owned up to. You wish you could explain to her that you know how silly it is to be in love with a full grown man, your best friend’s dad. It’s not like he’ll ever see you as anything other than a kid.

You can’t put into words how he makes you feel. It’s not just his broad shoulders or chocolate eyes, though it’s undeniable that he’s gorgeous. He asks about school and comes to see you in the musical. Joel is an adult that actually gives a crap about you.

You want to tell Sarah that one of the reasons you love her father so much is because of her. Because he’s such a good dad, because he raised such a cool, funny, smart daughter. That Sarah makes him better.

It’ll take years for you to find words for all of that. So you just do your best right now.

“I can’t help it. I wish I could,” you say.

That’s true. And not just because your crush has made you lose your only friend. It’s exhausting to feel such a powerful longing, to want something you know you’ll never have. It’s torture.

“But you’re my best friend. And that’s not why. I promise,” you say.

Sarah sighs heavily, her pretty hazel eyes full of remorse.

“I’m sorry,” she says. “I shouldn’t have said that. I just get jealous sometimes.”

“I promise I won’t make you feel that way ever again. I could never like him more than you,” you tell her, sitting beside her on the couch and looking her in the eye so she knows you mean it. “He’s…old.”

You both laugh.

“He’s so lame. This morning he said that Jakarta is in the Middle East,” she giggles.

You don’t know where the hell Jakarta is but of course Sarah does. You throw your arms around her. You’ve missed her so damn much. The past two weeks have felt like two decades.

“I’m sorry,” you tell her.

“Me too.” She returns your embrace. “Do you have to go home? You can sleep over if you want. It’s my dad’s birthday but I don’t think he’s going to be home until late.”

Your heart twinges at the offer and not because it means you might see Mr. Miller at breakfast. You won’t even look at him again. Tonight is about your friend.

You end up watching some corny action movies and gorging yourselves on microwave popcorn. Everything feels right again. You don’t think about Mr. Miller. In fact, you’re grateful that his double has gone over into a late night so you don’t have to be in the same room. You’ve sworn to yourself that you’ll act normal around him but you’re not sure that sheer willpower can stop you from getting butterflies when he’s right there.

At some point, you pass out in front of the tv, happier than you’ve been in a long time.

Sarah nudges you awake sometime after midnight, concern all over her face.

“Was I snoring?” you ask, groggy.

She’s looking out the window. Helicopters fly so low overhead, the whole house rattles. It’s a wonder you slept through all of this noise— the choppers are joined by the wail of a car alarm, pops like fireworks. The TV is playing a high-pitched tone and when you peer at it, you see a test pattern on the screen.

Dread settles in the pit of your stomach.

“Something’s going on,” Sarah says almost to herself.

A sudden thud against the back door makes you both jump. You swear, shaken out of your sleepy haze.

“Mercy?” Sarah asks.

You’ve spent enough time with Sarah to become acquainted with their neighbors The Adlers and their border collie Mercy. Mr Adler used to pay you each a dollar to walk him. Mercy’s frantically pawing at the glass.

Sarah goes to the door and steps into the yard. You follow, unsure you want to leave the familiar safety of the house but unwilling to be alone with such an eerie feeling in the air.

“What’re you doing out here, boy?” Sarah says, crouching down to pet the whimpering animal.

“Where’s your dad?” you ask her.

You hope the question doesn’t make Sarah think you’ve already forgotten your promise. Everything’s just so wrong. You’d feel a lot better with an adult around.

“Don’t think he came home yet,” she says. You can hear the concern in her voice. “Let’s take Mercy back. The Alder’s will be home.”

Mercy puts up a fight as Sarah pulls him across the lawn. It’s late and dark save the street lamp and a few porch lights that have been left on. You shiver despite the fact that it’s a warm southern night.

The front door to the Adler’s house stands open and inside is black. No. Bad. You want to run back to the Miller’s house and lock the door behind you but the promise of Mr. And Mrs. Adler inside keeps you moving towards the darkened entrance. Maybe Mrs. Adler will give you some cookies while you wait for Mr. Miller.

Sarah steps in first. The dog bucks and strains against her grip on his collar. Sarah fights to keep hold of him but Mercy’s thrashing makes him hard to pin down. He pulls free from Sarah’s grasp and darts away.

You have half a mind to do the same but Sarah keeps going forward. She’s scared, too, her breaths shallow as she tip toes down the hall.

“Mrs. Adler?” Sarah asks, her voice barely above a whisper.

You reach for each other without even realizing it and you enter the kitchen holding hands.

What you see there is beyond your wildest imaginings. There’s blood, a lot of it. Sarah’s shoe slides in the stuff and you grab her before she loses her balance. The room is cast in shadows but a street light streams through the window in the side door. Its beam falls over the form of Mr. Adler, limp on the floor. His back is against the door and a gush of dark blood sparkles in the sodium vapor.

You’ve never seen so much blood, never seen anyone injured so brutally. It looks like he’s been attacked by some wild animal. Mercy was acting strange but the dog couldn’t do that.

“Help me,” he rasps.

He’s speaking to you. You’re actually here. This is happening and you need to do something.

But before you can form a coherent thought, your eyes travel deeper into the kitchen. Beside the island is more blood…and more bodies.

As if seeing Sarah’s neighbor with his neck ripped open wasn’t enough of a horror, you’re now watching Nana hunched over Mrs. Adler’s corpse, her face buried in the younger woman’s neck. The scene before you makes no sense. Most of the time the old woman is barely conscious, hasn’t left her wheelchair in years and yet she’s on all fours before you looking feral.

Sarah squeezes your hand so tight you’re afraid your knuckles will break.

Nana slowly raises her face to you. Her eyes are pitch black and her mouth teems with twitching tendrils. You are staring at a living, breathing monster.

When she leaps at you, you and Sarah bolt for the door. Your heart hammers against your ribs. Sarah makes it out first and races towards the sidewalk.

Once you’ve gotten onto the front step, you slam the storm door shut behind you to trap whatever that thing is inside. SLAM. Nana collides with the door and it rattles violently. You hold it closed with every ounce of strength in you, listening to the creature behind it scratch and wail and willing yourself not to look through the glass to see its horrible face. Terror holds your muscles taught. You’re not sure how long you can stay like this, your sneakers skidding across the ground.

With a roar, Uncle Tommy’s truck pulls up at that very moment and Mr. Miller hops out of the passenger seat before its even come to a full stop. He’s a fearsome sight, broad and rippling with untamed energy, his muscular arms outlined by the headlights of the car. You’ve never been more grateful for his presence.

This nightmare is almost over. Joel’s come to save you.

“Girls get in the car!” he bellows. His voice is raw and ragged.

Just as you’re ready to make a run for it, The door flings out towards you, and you’re thrown aside as if you weigh nothing. You hit the driveway hard, your head connecting with concrete.

For a moment, you can’t hear anything but the gush of blood pumping in your ears. You’re dizzy. Suffocating. There’s a warm trickle at your temple. Sarah calls your name. Your vision is blurred but you can make out the ghoulish form of the creature barreling towards her.

“What’re we doing, Joel?” you hear Tommy ask.

There’s a thud and then quiet.

You gasp again and again but your lungs won’t fill.

Are you dying? Help. You need help. The monster lays lifeless at Joel’s feet and you pray that he’ll scoop you up and take you away from this. Your eyes finally come into focus to see Mr. Miller comforting Sarah, holding her face in his big palms, so fixated on her that he doesn’t notice that Mr. Adler has appeared in the doorway.

Mr. Adler is still covered in so much blood and his gait has become twitchy as if his legs are on backwards. He moves towards them and you want to call out a warning but you’re still choking for air. Luckily he hasn’t noticed you but he soon stands between you and the Millers.

“We’ve got to move,” Tommy says.

“Get in the car,” Mr. Miller says to Sarah, throwing a protective arm in front of her.

“But she’s hurt!”

She steps towards you. You’d cry her name but you’ve still got the wind knocked out of you and you’re too terrified to make a noise. Mr. Adler makes an inhuman sound as he advances, a croaking, growling gurgle.

Mr. Miller pushes Sarah towards the truck.

“Leave her!” he barks. “Get in the car!”

You sputter and choke as you watch Sarah, Joel, and Tommy drive away.

You wait for a long time.

As the truck pulls off of the curb, Mr. Adler is joined by his wife in the street, making chase. You’re finally able to draw breath and rouse your body off of the ground. You scramble back across the lawn to the Miller’s house and lock yourself inside. There’s enough adrenaline coursing through you that you’re able to push the sofa to barricade the front door. You draw all of the curtains and grab the biggest knife you can find in the kitchen. It’s ridiculous, something you’ve seen in scary movies, but you’re living in one right now.

You hide yourself away. Sarah’s bedroom seems like the obvious place to do it. Familiar and safe. You curl yourself into a ball in the corner, clutching your knife and staring at the closed door with wild eyes.

Sirens go through the night. Gunshots. At one point even the roar of a jet engine.

For hours your body quivers as you try to make sense of what you’ve just witnessed. Flesh-eating mutants. Gore. Death. You keep waiting to wake up from a bad dream but you don’t. They left you. They abandoned you in a nightmare.

No. That’s impossible. You can accept that a comatose elderly woman made supper out of her son in law but you refuse to believe that Joel would desert you.

He’ll come back for you. Sarah will convince him. There’s always been room for you in their family.

But as the sun begins to peek through the blinds and the noises outside fade away, you begin to lose hope.

The muscles in your body go slack, exhausted from hours of uncontrollable shaking. Your instinct for survival and your need for sleep war with each other. Exhaustion is winning.

You cautiously open the door to Sarah’s room. The house is still, more quiet than you’ve ever experienced. You creep into the room at the end of the hall. The olive green sheets on Joel’s bed are still messy from when he woke up here the day before. A normal morning. His birthday.

You rest the knife on the night stand amongst the things he emptied from his pockets— coins, receipts, a stray nail. You slip into the bed and wrap yourself up. It smells like him— spicy deodorant and sweat, fresh cut lumber like the hardware store. The scent reminds you of all those times he was close, when your heart leapt.

They’ll come back. Mr. Miller wouldn’t leave you.

He left you to die but you just go on living.

It takes some time before you’re brave enough to leave the Miller’s house and see what’s left of the world. Your parents are nowhere to be found. It’s safe to assume they were infected that first night.

You’re on your own.

A QZ is set up outside of San Antonio. They assign you to housing for separated minors. An orphanage. You never make friends, not really. Trust is too fickle.

At night you lay in your bunk and wonder what life would be like if anybody gave a shit about you. Maybe you would have been with your parents when it all went down. You’d be a snarling monster but at least you wouldn’t be alone.

On the worst nights, when you like yourself the least, Mr. Miller’s words echo around your skull. “Leave her.” She's not worth it. Forget her.

You don’t imagine yourself in his arms anymore. Instead you picture him and Sarah and Uncle Tommy, all happy and safe hiding out somewhere idyllic. A sweet little cabin with a stream nearby, surrounded by peaceful woods. You’ve heard some people live like that.

Some days you wish you were with them. Others you wish they were all dead.

When you turn 18, you age out of your living situation. It couldn’t come soon enough. Things are changing and it seems like all the kids that stay in FEDRA school are being groomed to go straight into uniform. You dodged that bullet but life’s not easy. Now you’re well and truly alone, scraping by to keep food in your mouth and a roof over your head.

It only lasts a few years, though. By the time you’re 21, there’s an emergency evacuation. Outbreaks are happening within the walls and with so many people living on top of each other, it’s only a matter of time before shit hits the fan. They send swaths of people to Dallas but word is, there’s no room for such numbers and they consider everyone from San Antonio an infection risk.

You’ve heard enough stories to know what that means. There won’t be a warm welcome when you reach the next QZ. So you ditch the convoy and head north.

You bounce around for years, sometimes with others, a lot of time solo. Doing what you have to. It’s not a life, just survival.

By the time you reach the wilds of Wyoming, you’ve had enough. You break off from the group you’re traveling with. You leave them this time, just decide to walk into the forest and let the earth swallow you up. You’re exhausted, sick of hanging on by a thread. Too much of a coward to kill yourself, you wander around waiting for the cold or your hunger or a bear to do it for you.

They find you. Some scouts that look mean and tough take pity on you and offer you a place with them in a commune where things are half normal.

It’s the first time being alone has worked to your advantage.

Jackson is a strange place. It has walls like the QZ but it’s quaint. There’s laughter and evergreen wreaths, happy children that build snowmen in the center of town. Some of these kids have no idea how fucked up the world has become. All they know is this charming little haven.

You spend the first few days in the infirmary, getting patched up, regaining your strength. You feel like an animal compared to the people in your new community. It’s hard to accept that they’re willing to help you, no strings attached.

Eventually you’re well enough to have your own place. They set you up with a little apartment over one of the stores in town. You’re invited to take your meals in the dining hall.

It takes you back to those first days at your new middle school after you came to Austin. Unfortunately, this time Sarah’s not there to offer you a seat at her lunch table.

You keep to yourself, overwhelmed by all of the strange new faces. Head down, you eat your breakfast. It’s the best food you’ve had in years. As your belly fills, you start to relax and try to get used to the idea of this being home.

Then you hear a familiar voice say your name. You wonder if you’re hallucinating when you see him standing in front of you.

He’s gained a few decades but he looks good. His hair is nearly shoulder length and there’s a mustache on his upper lip but that’s him alright.

“Uncle Tommy?” you manage.

“That really you?” he asks.

Tommy puts a gentle hand on your shoulder. His smile wrinkles the corners of his eyes. You nod and you’re smiling too.

You expect to be upset. Tommy was there when you were abandoned after all. But you’re flooded with relief and a small flame of hope.

“Shit. What’re the chances?” he asks, studying your face. “C’mere.”

He pulls you through the lines of tables. Your head spins with questions. How did he end up in Wyoming of all places? How long has he been here? Did you actually die out there only to be sent to this strange afterlife?

“You remember this old son of a bitch?” Tommy asks with a chuckle when he stops at the table in a far corner.

And suddenly you’re face to face with Mr. Miller.

He’s old. Grey hairs run through his stubble and curl from his temple. There are deep lines in his face. He’s still good looking despite how weathered his features have become, still broad, still with that wonderful silhouette.

It’s funny. In your mind’s eye, you’ve never imagined Joel aging. He stayed the same while you grew up.

He looks at you for a long moment and then his thick bottom lip falls agape. His eyes glitter and his dimple appears as he recognizes the woman that you’ve become.

“Kiddo,” he whispers as he stands up.

He pulls you into a hug and his wide palm smooths down your back. He still smells just how you remember and without warning you’re sobbing into the front of his flannel.

You spent hours upon hours imagining what you might say if you ever saw him again. Sometimes it was a speech biting with venom, others a confession, a question. Now, though, your mind is blank, overwhelmed that fate has brought you back together. A testament to your survival.

“It’s alright, babygirl. You’re okay,” he says into your hair. Words you needed to hear all those years ago.

You stay like this for a long time, surrounded by him. He holds you the way you wished he had as you cried into his pillow in that empty house. Eventually you pull yourself together with a shaking breath.

“Where’s Sarah?” you ask, casting your eyes around the crowd in the mess hall.

There’s a girl sitting beside Joel, her curly hair pulled back into a ponytail, watching this scene unfold. Everyone else is polite enough to pretend you’re not bawling in the middle of lunch. Can’t be the first time it’s happened.

At your question, Tommy goes stone faced. The muscle in Joel’s jaw ticks.

You shake your head in disbelief. “Infected?” you squeak out.

“It wasn’t like that,” Joel chokes.

“She didn’t make it through that first night,” Tommy says.

It’s a punch in the gut, the air’s knocked out of your chest all over again. While it had crushed you to be abandoned, part of you understood. Joel had to choose and he picked his daughter. Even if he’d been in love with you the way you used to dream about, he always would have chosen Sarah. You couldn’t hold that against him, no matter how much it hurt. There just wasn’t anyone in the world that would have saved you.

But knowing that he failed her, that he failed you both, makes you sick. All those years of bitterness come flooding back to you and your tears turn hot and furious.

“You let her die?” you demand. “You told her to leave me behind and you didn’t even save her?” You push Joel, your hands against the wet spots you left on his shirt. It’s ineffectual. He barely moves against your pathetic shove but his face crumples. You know he hates himself as much as you do in that moment but that’s not enough. You hit him as hard as you can and he does nothing to defend himself.

“Hey, hey,” Tommy says, trying a hand on your shoulder.

“You should’ve saved her,” you bark.

Heads have turned now as Tommy holds you back.

“I hoped you were dead every day since you left me,” you say.

You can see on his face that Joel’s definitely wished the same thing.

You go on berating him, your tears mixing with spit as you snarl and shout, until Tommy’s able to wrestle you out of the dining hall.

The summer comes. After a long, cold winter, everyone in Jackson welcomes the change of seasons with open arms. Everyone but Joel.

Ellie was a salve for the deep wounds on his heart. They’ll never fully heal but at least they stopped overwhelming him for some time. Since your dramatic reunion, though, those scars have been torn open once more. Especially today.

It’s warm and there’s barely a cloud in the sky. The July weather is mild compared to summers in Texas. Fresh air blows in through the open windows of the house, beckoning Joel outside but he has no desire to be in the sunshine.

“You okay?” Ellie asks.

She’s just come down the stairs. It’s early and Joel’s already at the kitchen table. Didn’t sleep much.

He and Ellie have been together long enough that she understands the wordless shifts in his moods. They’ve gotten worse since you arrived in Jackson. He does his work and patrols, sometimes he nurses a whiskey alone at the bar. The rest of the time he keeps to himself. He’s sliding back towards the man she met back in Boston. Joel’s rebuilt the walls that surrounded him, brick by brick since that afternoon in the dining hall.

“I was going to meet Dina at the mess. Want to come? Or I could stick around?” she offers.

It’s going to be one of those dark days, the kind that makes him question why he’s been hanging on for so long, and Ellie knows it. She’s giving him a lifeline, offering to be with him so he doesn’t have to ask. He should accept it, but he doesn’t want to waste his energy putting on a brave face for her when he feels so broken.

“That’s alright, Ellie. Go on,” he says.

She doesn’t push him. She never does. She just gives a sympathetic smile before she slips out.

Once seems gone, his heart begins to ache.

Sometime later, there’s a knock at the door. The last person he expects to see on the porch is you. You look a little nervous, like if he’d taken longer to come to the door you might’ve bolted.

He hasn’t spoken to you since that day that you came back into his life but the words you said play relentlessly on loop in his mind. He should have made amends by now. You were his daughter’s best friend and of all the places at the end of the world, you’ve ended up in the same town. He passes by the old pharmacy you live above just about every day, thinks about seeing if you’re in so you can have a conversation. He even knows what he’d say, but he can’t work up the courage. There aren’t any words that can make right what he did to you.

The guilt metastasized deep in his gut. His failure compounded.

So he doesn’t blame you for keeping your distance, avoiding him when your paths cross. He lets you be angry with him, as he deserves.

“Want some company?” you ask.

He recognizes the look on your face and it dawns on him that he might not be the only person struggling today. He steps aside to let you in.

Joel sets a cup of tea down in front of you. It’s not the real thing. Dried herbs from the garden Maria keeps. You’ve taken a seat across from him at the table, glancing around the kitchen so you don’t have to look at him.

“Surprised you remember,” he says.

“My best friend’s birthday?”

He shrugs as he pulls up a chair across from you. “Was a long time ago.”

“I think you underestimate the power of female friendships.”

You wear a soft smile that makes Joel’s heart ache a little harder. He takes a good look at you, seeing you up close for the first time. There are hints of the girl he knew back in Austin but she’s buried under years of hard living.

You’re the same age Sarah would have been today. The same age he was when he lost everything.

You sigh and scratch awkwardly at your neck.

“Listen, I’m sorry about…all that shit I said. It’s…” you trail off and he’s sure you’re still mad at him, deep down.

“I reckon I’m the one that owes an apology. I shouldn’t’ve left you back there. Sarah begged me not to,” he admits. “I was trying to keep her safe. But I fucked that up, too.”

“That’s not true. I was just angry,” you tell him.

“I was always so pissed at your parents for not caring enough about you. Turns out I was just as bad,” he says.

He hadn’t given any thought to the choice he made all those years ago. His priority was his family and he had no room for the rest of humanity. Joel didn’t realize until he saw your face again just how selfish that had made him. The past months he’s been haunted by the thought of it, a young thing all alone in the chaos. If Sarah’s watching over him, which sometimes he hopes she is, she’d be ashamed.

“I’ve had a lot of time to think since I got here and…I don’t blame you. I’m not your kid. It just—“ You laugh without humor. “God, it’s so stupid but I had a huge crush on you.”

Joel’s eyebrows shoot up. You fiddle with the chipped handle on your mug.

“I know. I was just a kid but I was head over heels for you,” you say.

Joel can feel himself blushing. It’s a sweet thought. He’s honored in a strange way. He remembers the gravity of Sarah’s crushes– Leonardo DiCaprio, Usher, some guy with a lip ring from one of those punk bands she listened to.

“So when you left me…I was a little heart broken.”

“Shit,” Joel says.

“I didn’t say that to make you feel bad. I just wanted you to know why I was so hurt,” you tell him, leaning forward in your seat. “You didn’t know any of that. And it’s not fair to hang that over your head. It wasn’t your job to rescue me.”

“Course it was,” Joel responds. “You were just a kid. I let you down.”

You look at him gratefully and a tear slips down your cheek. It takes a minute for you to fully take that in and it seems like something you’ve needed to hear.

“Joel. I forgive you,” you tell him.

A thick knot forms in his throat.

There’s a litany of names in his mind, so many people he’s failed. Henry and Sam. Tess. Sarah. He’s never expected to be absolved of any of his sins, he doesn't deserve to be forgiven. But those three words make him feel lighter, like he can stop beating himself up. At least for a moment.

He tucks his chin into his chest trying to keep his own tears from spilling over. Your hand slips over his, a gentle, reassuring touch.

The two of you stay like that for a little while, crying together, then becoming reacquainted. You talk for a long time. There’s a lot of catching up to do but the conversation keeps coming back to Sarah. It’s a gift to share memories of her, to hear stories that he’s never heard. You knew Sarah better than anyone in the world— her favorite store in the mall, what she wanted for her birthday. Her hopes, her dreams, her fears. No fourteen year old goes to her daddy with her problems. You were there for her, though. Right up until the end.

“I, um, you should have this,” you say. “Well, it’s yours.”

You and Joel have migrated to the couch in the living room as the afternoon has crept on. You reach into your back pocket, a little reluctant, and pull something out.

It’s a photograph, dog eared and creased from years of being carried with you. Joel recognizes the picture— you and him and Sarah, all three of you donning life jackets, smiling as you float on a calm river. He and Tommy took Sarah kayaking and she asked if you could tag along. It was a wonderful day. Blue, cloudless sky.

The last time he saw the photo it was hanging under a magnet on the refrigerator in the kitchen.

“How’d…”

“I stayed in your house for a while. After. Just kind of hoping you might come back. I took that when I left. And I ate all your food,” you say with a little chuckle. You wipe some snot from your nose. “I guess…well, you probably don’t have a lot of pictures of her.”

You’re right. There was an outdated school photograph in his wallet when they left that night and it had been too painful to look at for years. It still stings a little but it feels easier to share with someone, someone that knew her so well.

“You sure?” he asks.

You nod. “I know where to find it.”

He props the picture up on the coffee table so you can both look at it and meditate on that day when everything felt so perfect.

“Remember we made you play “Crazy in Love” on on repeat the whole way there?” you ask.

“I still get that goddamn song stuck in my head,” he complains.

You laugh and rest your head on his shoulder. The familiar gesture cracks something open inside of him. He’s taken back to his favorite nights when he’d watch a movie with Sarah and she’d cuddle against him. Somehow the memory doesn’t hurt as much as he anticipates.

You sit like that, looking at the picture, both quiet, your smiles fading as you remember what’s happened since.

“Sometimes I think I see her,” he chokes.

He’s never told anyone that. But it seems like you might understand, He trusts you won’t meet his admission with a pitying smile.

“How’s she look?” you ask.

He can’t help but chuckle. He nods.

You don’t say anything, you just burrow your head a little deeper into him. Joel puts a gentle kiss in your hair.

You’re a fixture in the Miller house once again, part of the family. You babysit for Maria and tell her embarrassing stories about Tommy. You and Ellie tease Joel relentlessly. You sit with him in the evenings, sometimes singing along when he pulls out his guitar, other nights neither of you speak at all.

Slowly, you find yourself falling in love with him all over again. It’s not the same infatuation you harbored when you were young. You’re both different people. And you hardly knew him back then. Not really. What did a fourteen year old know about grown men?

The two of you fall into an easy rhythm. After being alone for such a long time, it’s magical to have a companion. Joel seems grateful for the company, too. He’s there whenever you turn around, like a promise. He’s not leaving you behind even if you’re just going from the stables to the library.

Neither of you acknowledge it, this easy rapport. A light squeeze on your shoulder, holding your hand when you get misty eyed. He probably doesn’t mean anything by it but you’re pretty sure you can’t live without it. You bask in the sweetness of these exchanges, trying not to think too hard about the fact that you used to spend Saturday nights giggling on his daughter’s bedroom floor.

He’s still Mr. Miller, after all.

Autumn comes and you’re inseparable. You realize just how much when you convince him to attend the children’s choir performance in town. You expect him to demure. Watching kids being kids must be painful. But he’s by your side in the dining hall as the little ones sing “Clementine” and “Oh Susanna”.

He puts his arm around your shoulder so you can lean into him. It might just be a paternal gesture, maybe you’re still a little girl in his eyes. That’s ok with you if he keeps absentmindedly massaging your upper arm. You can’t remember the last time you felt so safe, so loved.

Afterwards, he walks you home and you’re in such a good mood, you start singing to yourself.

“Johnny Cash,” he says approvingly.

You laugh to yourself. “You know, I started listening to him ‘cause of you. You had his CD in your truck,” you admit.

You wanted to like all of the things Joel liked. He would think you were so interesting and grown up because you knew all the words to “Riders in the Sky.”

“Least I was a good influence,” Joel says, shaking his head, his cheeks turning pink.

He’s so handsome when he blushes, you feel a little giddy when you come to stop in front of the old pharmacy.

“G’night, darlin’,” he says, giving your hand one last squeeze.

He waits. He’ll stand here and watch you get inside like he always does. He doesn’t need to— it’s not like people even lock their doors in Jackson— but he’s insisted on it so fervently that you stopped arguing.

You shouldn’t do it. It’s so silly. But there’s a softness in his eyes and his gentle touch still tingles on your arm. His salt and pepper hair is caught in the string lights that line the empty street. You can’t help yourself.

You kiss him, smoothing your palms up the front of his flannel until you sink your fingers into the curls at the base of his neck. The tip of his nose is cold from the chill in the evening air but his lips are warm and sweet.

You haven’t had a whole lot of experience kissing. You’d just started doing it when the outbreak happened and things haven’t been very romantic since. This is one of the better ones. Relatively chaste but unbearably tender. Certainly better than you could have imagined all those years ago.

It lasts longer than you expect. Joel kisses you back. He rests his hand on your waist and the way it covers so much of your back makes you swoon. Soon, though, he’s pulling away, cradling your cheek.

“We shouldn’t do that,” he says.

“I know,” you sigh. You’re reluctant to break away, savoring the brush of his nose against yours.

It’s all wrong but you’re not ashamed for trying it.

“Just once. I’ve always wanted to,” you say.

He presses his lips into your forehead. It feels bittersweet. A kiss you longed for for twenty years came and went.

You wave to him from the door before you go in for the night.

That kiss confirms Joel’s fears.

He’s spent months convincing himself that this is completely platonic. He would never have feelings for his daughter’s best friend. Even if he always wants to be around you.

He’s looking after you, comforting you, protecting you. He’s making up for those years that he made you suffer through. You forgave him but he’ll never stop atoning.

And then you kissed him.

Suddenly, he’s buried in an avalanche of thoughts he’s been disavowing.

You’re pretty and soft. You're strong and you ease the pain of his memories. You make him feel a little less alone.

The warmth of your lips, your body pressed to his. He was ready to lose himself in you.

That’s when he heard it.

It was Sarah’s voice chiding him with all the reasons why this is wrong.

She’s been in his head, his inner critic since the day she died, pointing out every failure and weakness in him. He could picture her looking down on him with disgust. She’s the same age as your daughter. She was just a kid when you met her. She deserves better than you.

He’s making the same mistake as before, letting his instinct get the better of him. The responsible part of him takes control. He can’t give you any more reasons to try and kiss him again.

If Joel is good at one thing it’s denying himself.

He backs off and you can sense it, he knows you do. Sometimes he catches you looking at him and there’s a longing in your eye. It fucking kills him but it’s just another reason why he’s no good for you.

Despite whatever it does to you, you haven’t got anybody else in Jackson so you stick around. He can only imagine how much it hurts you.

“Why did I go north?” you complain when Joel opens the front door. You’re holding a scarf tight around your neck, shivering against the cold. The sky is a dismal shade of gray, snowfall on the horizon.

Joel gets you in the house with a chuckle. He starts a fire, a luxury you little apartment doesn’t afford. You shiver in front of the hearth.

“Traded for this,” you say, pulling a thick book out of your coat and tossing it onto the coffee table.

“Oh good. I was looking for some light reading material,” Ellie quips from her spot on the couch.

“It’s a dictionary,” you explain, “so you’ll quit cheating at Boggle.”

“You're in trouble now,” Joel laughs.

“I don’t cheat. I just know more words than you guys,” she says.

“Dentment is not a word,” you reply.

“Neither is thoard,” Joel says.

“Sure it is. I’m about to thoard the two of you in this game,” she says.

This should be enough. A winter day by the fire. The simple joy of a board game. Laughter. This is practically a normal life.

But each time Joel’s eyes fall on you, there’s a pang in his chest. You’re just close enough that he could reach out and touch you but he won’t. He can’t.

When the sun sets, Ellie retreats to her room. Eventually, you fall asleep on the couch, wrapped up in a quilt as the fire dies down. You look even younger, curled up serenely. There’s no worry on your brow. Usually your face is in a perpetual frown even when you’re not in a mood.

The snow is already knee deep with no signs of slowing. There’s no sense in sending you back out there.

Joel scoops you up as gently as he can. He feels his age, back straining, but he doesn’t mind. He enjoys how you nestle your face into his chest as he mounts the stairs, warm and snug in his arms. A smile pulls at his lips.

He sets you down carefully on his bed and you whimper groggily at the loss of his touch. Your eyes crack open.

“Snowing pretty bad. Sleep here. I’ll be on the couch,” he whispers.

“Stay,” you murmur.

He hesitates. Carrying you to bed was already crossing a line. He’s not worried about keeping his hands to himself. He’s been able to control himself for this long. If he lays down next to you, feeling you warming his sheets, smelling the peppermint soap on your skin, he’ll be so far gone for you, there’ll be no coming back.

But denying you this simple request feels cruel. He imagines you waking up here all alone. You’re half asleep but what if you remember asking him to remain only to be abandoned again?

He gets into bed, still fully clothed and careful to stay on his side. His jaw is clenched so tightly his teeth hurt. You give a satisfied hum and sink back into sleep, your body melting into the mattress.

Joel watches you for a moment, fights the urge to put a kiss on your forehead. He crosses his arms and stares at the ceiling, beginning to tangle with the web of emotions that accompany you. Once it gets too confusing, he drifts off as well.

When you reach out for him in your sleep, he can’t deny you. Joel tries his hardest to pretend it doesn’t feel good, that this isn’t something he’s wanted to do. So he imagines the nightmares that come to you. Reminds himself that you wouldn’t have seen any of that shit if he hadn’t left you for dead. Now that you're in his arms, he’ll make sure nothing touches you ever again. The least he can do is hold you and make sure it goes no further.

You both find reasons that you should stay the night. Neither of you acknowledge it. Joel just hands you one of his t-shirts and busies himself as you slip out of your clothes and get under the covers. It’s all rather innocent, Joel does more than rub your back even though you sometimes feel his morning wood through his sweatpants. If he wants you, he doesn’t let himself have you. And he could.

It’s fine with you if cuddling is all this is. You don’t try to do anything more than that, unwilling to upset the unspoken agreement between you. You can be satisfied with a broad, firm chest to rest your back against. Sleep is better beside him, his heart beats guiding your own. The weight of his arm draped across you makes your body feel deliciously heavy.

After a while, though, it happens.

Joel’s having a nightmare. His murmurs and restless movements wake you. His mouth twitches and his brow is creased. You smooth circles into his shoulder until his eyes open. Even in the darkness you can see the despair in them.

He blinks, coming back to reality, remembering he’s not wherever his dreams took him. You brush your fingers through his hair, gazing at one another as his breaths even out. Normally, his age is obvious– the lines in his forehead, the sun spots on his cheek– yet right now he looks young. Like a boy that needs to sleep with a night light.

You’re not sure who initiates but you find each other in the dark. At first he’s not kissing you at all, his lips are just brushing your cheek or your nose. It’s sweet and gentle. You try to hold in a moan, worried that any noise might shatter this moment.

The kisses are timid as if you’re both waiting for someone to stop this. Joel lets out a shuddering breath against you. This is a bad idea, you’re both thinking it. After you kissed him the last time, he held you at arms length. When this blows up, you’ll lose him entirely. But you need to be closer to him.

You open your mouth to him, tangle your legs between his. His hand slides under your shirt, roaming your bare skin. You thought that snuggling under the blanket was enough but now you realize just how hungry you’ve been to be touched. Really touched. He needs it too. Joel leans into your hand on his jaw with a whimper.

You don’t open your eyes. You might be the one dreaming and you don’t want to wake up.

It’s quiet, just the sound of hot breaths and desperate kisses, the swish of the sheets as you shift your hips to meet his. You keep yourself from rocking against him, try to enjoy the feeling of him without crossing yet another line, but you’re aching. His shirt has ridden up so you feel the softness of his middle, the light hairs on his chest. Your fingers intertwine with his as his mouth trails down the column of your neck and. Joel buries his face there.

“I’m sorry,” he breathes.

You’re not sure what he’s apologizing for. This? Then? The years in between? None of it matters because you want to live in this moment forever.

You shush him, pull him back to your mouth. You’re ready to lose yourself, to forget, to ignore the storm of thoughts constantly plaguing your mind. This is all you want.

You peel off your clothing, helping him slide out of his sweatpants until there’s nothing between you. Joel’s skin is warm and soft against you and you realize you’ve never been this close to another soul.

When Joel settles over you and you feel him throbbing between his legs, you shiver with nervous anticipation. You expect him to say something, to warn you that this is a bad idea, to promise this won’t change anything. But his brown eyes look as confused with need as you feel. There’s no room for thinking or it will crush this fragile moment like glass.

You tilt your hips to allow him in, already slick from being so close to him.

Slowly, he enters you, kissing you all the while. He makes a choked sound, wincing as his body stills. The noise makes you clench around him.

Together you take a moment to get your bearings and you adjust to the fullness of him. Joel’s eyes are pressed shut, his teeth digging into his bottom lip.

Before he begins to move, his thumb finds your clit, grazing it lightly. After years of solitude and now months being just out of reach of him, the sensation makes you gasp sharply.

You’ve had sex a handful of times. They had been more about fulfilling a self destructive urge than a desire for pleasure. It’s never been like this.

You start to lose sense of everything but the feelings of your body. Your core tenses and your breaths go short and you start to forget that it’s Joel whose hips are stuttering into you. It’s as if this euphoria can erase some of those awful memories.

Soon you’re shattering beneath him, a crescendo that has you tugging on his hair and gasping for air. Joel grunts into your ear. He follows after you, hissing as he pulls out of you. He pulses into his hand, his release dripping from his fist onto your sweat damp skin. Then he collapses onto you. You run your fingers through his long curls and he kisses your forehead. There might be tears in your eyes– maybe his too. It’s too dark to be sure– but when his breath evens out, it still sounds ragged against you.

Eventually he gets out of bed and leaves the room and, in that moment, you can feel everything hanging over your head again– what you’ve just done, the horrors of the world. Perhaps even more intense than before.

But Joel returns quickly. He flicks on the light on his bed side table and cleans you with a damp rag. His touch is gentle, reverent, and his dark eyes travel over your naked skin to yours. There’s a question in them, guilt, but you have no regrets. You smooth your hand out on the sheets beside you and he lays back on his pillow. He surrounds you with his massive arms and you fall asleep grateful that you don’t feel abandoned anymore.

You worry that it was just a one time thing, try to accept that it might never happen again. But the next time you share Joel’s bed, he’s pulling you into him, pressing kisses into your shoulder, nuzzling at the spot behind your ear. His hard length prods at the small of your back.

It starts like that every time. Intimate, sensual, quiet. It’s never tearing his clothes off or pushing you up against a wall. You just stay close, breath each other in, trail fingertips across skin. Neither of you ever speak above a whisper.

Joel barely talks at all except to ask, “That too much?” and “Feel good?”

You live for the moments when his hand skates over your hip, his dark eyes soft.

“Pretty,” he says almost to himself.

He’s such a beautiful man. Your fingers trace the smooth plane of his chest, dusted lightly with hair and a few stray freckles. Age has only improved him. The greys in his stubble catch the glow from the lamp on the nightstand. You study him with the same attention to detail you used in your youth. The cleft in his bottom lip, the dimples on his lower back, the scar on his temple. You’ve memorized it all.

Joel breaks open for you. He lets you see him vulnerable. He’ll fuck you with thrusts that shake loose deep emotions. Just as quickly, he’ll hold you together when it feels like you’re falling apart.

You lay with him after, sticky with the shared heat of your bodies but reluctant to roll away and break the connection.

Whatever this is, you don’t speak its name. There are too many questions and conflicts that it might not withstand. It exists only for you and him. A safe haven in the chaos, a bit of respite at the end of long years.

In his arms, you’re not his dead daughter’s best friend. He’s not the man that left you when you needed him most. You’re just two people that need to not be alone. Each time, it’s the same. The overwhelming bliss of Joel making love to you is second only to the understanding that he’s finally come back for you.

Thanks for reading! I'd love to hear from you. Comments and reblogs always appreciated.

#joel miller #tlou #joel miller fic #bfd!joel miller #jackson!joel miller #pedro pascal #pedro pascal character fic

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