paddockletters · 2 days ago
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style pit stop | max verstappen
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pairing: max verstappen x reader summary: Max lets y/n dress him up for a change, showing off a new look at the paddock author´s note: first story with Max, and you have no idea how much I enjoyed it! I've been wanting to write for him for a while, and well, I loved the result and hope you do too.
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It started as a casual comment during breakfast in our hotel room, the sun pouring through the windows, illuminating the crisp white sheets of our bed. Max and I were preparing for the upcoming race weekend, and the atmosphere was light, filled with the excitement that always accompanied a race.
“Max, I swear your entire closet is just Red Bull jackets, white T-shirts, and jeans. Nothing else,” I said, leaning over the table, eyeing his typical outfit of the day.
 “I happen to think I’ve got a classic style. Simple and effective.” Max raised an eyebrow, feigning offense.
 “Simple is an understatement. I mean, even AlphaTauri has given you all this fancy stuff to try, and you just let it sit there. Have you even worn half of it?” I rolled my eyes playfully.
“What am I supposed to do with half of that? Wear it to a race? You’d just laugh.” He shrugged, taking a sip of his coffee
“Of course I’d laugh!” I retorted, grinning. “But I’d also help you look better. Bet you wouldn’t let me dress you for one day, then. Try something different.”
 “Fine. I’ll take your bet. But if anyone laughs, you’re paying for dinner.” Max chuckled, clearly intrigued.
Within minutes, I was rummaging through his suitcase, pulling out the neglected AlphaTauri clothes he claimed were “too much effort” to style. I held up a pristine white button-up and slim-fit black trousers, a sleek gray turtleneck, and a pair of black boots that had clearly never seen the light of day.
“Look at this! You could rock this outfit!” I said, holding the turtleneck against his chest.
Max gave me a skeptical look as he reluctantly pulled it on, but I couldn't help grinning as he finally stood up. The way it hugged his frame was… honestly, distracting.
 “It feels kind of tight.” He turned to the mirror, tugging at the sleeves.
“It’s supposed to fit,” I insisted, smirking. “Now, for the trousers.”
Max fumbled a bit with the slim black pants, grumbling as he zipped them up.
“I look like I’m about to go to some fancy dinner,” he complained, though I could see he was beginning to enjoy the attention.
“Exactly the point,” I replied, holding up the leather boots. “And these. They’ll add a bit of height too.”
He scoffed but slipped them on anyway, taking a few exaggerated steps around the room like he was testing new racing boots.
“Happy now?”
“Very,” I replied, snapping a quick photo. “Now let’s get to the paddock before you change your mind.”
The reaction at the paddock was priceless. As soon as we stepped in, Lando spotted us and nearly choked on his coffee, doing a double-take.
“Wait, Max… are you actually dressed up? Did y/n have a part in this?”
“Blame her,” Max said, giving me a mock glare.
“Mate, I didn’t even know you owned a turtleneck. You look like you’re about to do a TED Talk.” Lando circled him, taking in the outfit.
“Or go to a very exclusive dinner,” Pierre teased, coming up next to us, flashing me a grin. “Nice work, y/n. About time someone taught him some style.”
 “Alright, you’ve all had your fun. Can we please get back to normal now?” Max rolled his eyes, giving me a helpless look.
“Oh, no way,” I laughed, linking my arm with his. “You’re keeping it on all day. And just think, you’re setting new fashion standards for the grid.”
As we entered the Red Bull hospitality, the reactions came in waves: team members did double takes, fans gasped, and then there was Checo, who took one look at Max and immediately burst into laughter.
“Dios mío, Max! I didn’t even recognize you,” Checo said, giving me a grin. “So, y/n finally got her way?”
“Finally?” I echoed, pretending to be offended. “Please, Checo. It wasn’t even that hard. A little style goes a long way.” 
Christian strolled over, eyebrows raised as he took in Max’s look.
“Well, well, Max, didn’t know you had it in you,” he joked, clapping Max on the back. “AlphaTauri’s sales will skyrocket after today. You could be their new poster boy.”
“Honestly, I think we should get her to dress all the drivers. Just imagine how well AlphaTauri would sell with these outfits!” Checo chimed in, a teasing glint in his eyes.
 “I’ll dress all of you if you want. Just wait until I’m done with Max.” I laughed, joining in the fun.
“You’re all too easily impressed. But maybe y/n should take her fashion skills elsewhere and help Checo. He could use the help.” Max smirked, glancing at me
“Oh no, Max, you’re on your own with this one. Besides, I doubt I could pull off the ‘turtleneck model’ look as well as you.” Checo raised his hands in defence, shaking his head with a laugh.
I snickered, nudging Checo playfully.
“Are you sure? I was thinking I could start dressing you and Max in matching outfits. You know, really take this team bonding to the next level.”
Max chuckled, draping an arm around my shoulders.
“You hear that, Checo? Get ready. Y/N’s got big plans for you, too.”
 “If this turns into some kind of Red Bull makeover challenge, I’m blaming both of you.” Christian couldn’t contain his laughter, shaking his head.
Checo leaned in, stage-whispering to me.
“Just don’t let her get me in that turtleneck, okay? I have a reputation to keep.”
“Noted,” I replied with a wink. “But we’ll see what I can do.”
By the time we reached the main area, I was wearing his oversized Red Bull jacket, practically swimming in it, while he strutted around in his AlphaTauri ensemble.
Fans caught on quickly, cameras flashing as they captured the two of us walking arm in arm, with Max.
“Look, there’s your fan club,” I teased, nudging him playfully as we passed a group of fans eagerly pointing their cameras at him.
Max smirked, leaning down to whisper. “I bet they wish I’d dress like this all the time.”
We reached his garage, and one of the engineers gave him an approving nod.
“You clean up well, Verstappen,” he commented, giving me a grin. “And y/n, you’re pulling off the Red Bull look better than he does.”
 “Unbelievable. I get roasted in my own team garage?” Max pretended to be offended.
“You’re the one who agreed to this!” I teased, nudging him as we walked further inside.
He shook his head, pulling me closer. “Just remember this next time you’re insisting I need more ‘style.’ I went through a whole day looking like some model just to prove you wrong.”
“Oh, please,” I laughed, leaning into him. “Admit it—you loved it.”
Max grinned, brushing a quick kiss to my temple. “Maybe. But only because I have you to make it fun.”
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giannaln4 · 23 hours ago
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GIANNA'S KINKTOBER '24 SEASON
ㅤㅤㅤㅤㅤ⇢ ˗ˏˋ Kinktober day sixteen.
Breeding Kink (3.2k words)
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summary: Since the moment he met you, Lando knew he wanted you to be the mother of his children, and that feeling only intensified when he saw taking care of your nephew.
warnings: NSFW, +18, smut, MDNI, established relationship, unprotected sex, creampie, dirty talking, breeding kink.
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To anyone else, and as people would expect, seeing your significant other with a child should warm your heart; it should give you a soft spot for the person you’ve vowed to spend the rest of your life with. 
Lando did feel like that when he saw you interact with any kid, like when you were walking in the paddock and a kid came up to him and you always made conversation so they wouldn’t feel so shy, or when a driver brought their kid to the race and you immediately leaned down to talk to them, sometimes even holding their tiny hands as they swore they had the coolest thing to show you.
That was the first few times, at least. But he will never forget how everything inside him shifted when you first met his niece. She instantly fell in love with you, and she needed to drag you everywhere. Who could blame her, really; that’s just the effect you have on people.
But god, the effect you had on him? That was another level, because the way he felt that weekend when you picked up a motherly role when you were with her made him feel something he had never felt before, something he never imagined, and quite honestly, he couldn’t explain it. That was until you were saying goodbye and the little girl nearly cried when her mother took her from your arms, and his hands instinctively landed on your tummy when he walked you back to the car.
The thought of you carrying his child and taking care of them the same way you did with his niece — now that is a fire he could never put out, not until it became a reality. He wanted- no, he needed to make you a mother; he desperately needed to put a baby in you in a way that was almost primal.
You and Lando have been together for years, and it was common knowledge that he wanted kids. Sure, you have talked about having a family one day after getting married, one day, but sometimes he just wishes you could skip all of that and make a baby once and for all. 
For months, he kept those thoughts to himself, not wanting to ruin what you had just because he couldn’t contain his desire buried for a little longer; that was until you babysat your 5-year-old nephew, Charlie.
He came back home sometime in the afternoon, eyes tired and body aching for the intensity of the past weeks. He wanted nothing more than to be with his girlfriend and forget about the world, but as soon as he stepped into your apartment, he heard the TV and loud chuckles coming from the living room.
His brows frowned in confusion as he dropped his bags next to the door and followed the noise, his heart nearly stopping when he spotted you playing with the little kid.
“Hey, what’s going on here?” He said with a huge smile.
“Oh hi, you’re home,” you sprinted towards him, hugging him tightly when he caught you in his arms. “I’ve missed you.”
“Missed you too, sweetheart,” he kissed your temple. “And how is this little guy doing?" Lando walked towards Charlie, kneeling next to him to be at the same level. 
“Good, we are playing with the puppies,” he exclaimed, his tiny finger pointed at the TV. 
“Yeah? Are they fun?” He just nodded and ran closer to the glowing screen, completely forgetting about Lando’s existence and jumping again as his tired eyes followed the dogs.
“Don’t worry, my sister will pick him up in a couple of hours.”
“It’s fine. He seems happy.”
“And very tired. I think it's time for a nap, what do you say?” You walked towards him, trying to pick him up, but he refused.
“No! I wanna play racing again.” 
“We can play some other time, I promise.” 
He looked up at you, the corners of his mouth turning down as his eyes quickly filled with tears. He shook his head and ran back to Lando, who was still on his knees, as he caged himself in his arms.
“I wanna play racing,” he repeated, this time to your boyfriend, sniffling and wiping his tears.
“Yeah? We can play for a little while.”
“Lando-” The way he just betrayed you, you would never forgive him.
“He’ll want to go to sleep soon, don’t worry.” You saw them walk to Lando’s streaming room, Charlie skipping as he held his hand.
You rolled your eyes and followed them, crossing your arms as you rested against the door frame. Lando tried to pick him up, intending to sit him in the sim, but he nearly lost his mind, as if Lando had no idea how playing racing worked.
“No! Auntie.” Lando freaked out and out and put him back down, looking at you as he begged for your help with a single look.
“I’m right here, sweetie.”
You stepped closer to them, sitting on the chair as you picked him up and put him on your lap. He was happy again, his little feet kicking in the air as he gripped the steering wheel.
“We’ll do one more, okay?”
“Yes!” He happily exclaimed.
Lando watched the both of you in awe as you started the game, showing Charlie all the cool cars he could choose from.
“I want the blue car again!” He said, pointing at the Red Bull. “You’ve got to be kidding me,” Lando joked. You giggled at this, but chose the Red Bull for the race.
It was a free practice session, so you weren’t actually racing other cars, but you still got to drive it super fast, which is exactly what he liked. 
As the session started, you placed your hands just below his. You were doing all the work, but the illusion was still there. 
It was a little harder to drive like this, but you still managed to put up a few good laps without messing up too much, but even when you did, he was enjoying it, giggling and pointing at the screens as he turned to Lando to ask him an excited “did you see that?” Any time something happened, and every time, Lando would just nod and match his enthusiasm.
The session ended, and just like you did earlier today, you congratulated your nephew for his amazing driving. He took the compliments proudly as if he just won a championship, but his head soon fell on your chest, yawning as he snuggled closer.
“Okay, time for a nap.”
He didn’t resist this time. Instead, he nodded as his eyes closed. Lando helped you get up as you held Charlie close to you, walking towards the guest room; that was the room he preferred, saying your room was too scary and probably haunted.
You carefully laid him down, taking his shoes off and covering his body with a blanket. How was he already in a deep sleep? You had no idea, but you envy him.
While he was asleep, you took the time to clean up the mess he made earlier, picking up all the toys he brought and putting Lando’s helmets back where they belonged. You loved your nephew, you really did, but man, it was really challenging to take care of a child. Not only were they messy and unpredictable, but they had so much energy you could barely keep up. You often wondered how your sister did it. 
Once you finished up, you dramatically collapsed on the couch. “I need to sleep for like a week,” you joked, your boyfriend laughing at your antics.
He made his way to the couch, sitting next to you as he pulled you in a warm embrace, hands caressing your sides as he placed a sweet kiss on the top of your head. “Me too, and I was only here for like half an hour.”
“Imagine! I’ve been with him since this morning. I’m never babysitting again.”
“No? But you love Charlie.” He looked at you expectantly, trying to decipher if you were being serious.
“I do, but it’s too much sometimes. I honestly don’t know what we’ll do when we have our kids.”
Our kids. Two simple words that opened up a can that you would never be able to close. He stayed silent, mentally cursing the tent forming in his pants for betraying him in such an innocent moment.
You didn’t think anything of it, nor did you realise what those two words did to him, so you just reached for the remote control and browsed the channels. You ended up picking a cooking show, paying attention as if you would ever cook anything like that.
The entire time, Lando was paying attention to you — all of you. He admired your face, your hands, your hips… your tummy. He couldn’t stop himself from placing both his hands on your stomach, imagining what you would look like carrying a child. His child. He was well aware he was getting ahead of himself, but after witnessing today’s events? God, he needed to do something about it.
Another hour went by, and you were already catching up to your boyfriend’s intentions. To you, everything seemed normal at first, but the lower his hands got and the way his thumb was rubbing soft circles on your stomach, it clicked. You knew how Lando felt about having a family with you, but it never crossed your mind that seeing you with kids affected him so much. Though it all made more sense now, any time you were near a kid, even if you didn’t interact with them at all, his hands would be all over you, and when he got you alone? That’s another story, but you never connected the dots until now. 
Suddenly, a phone call made both of you jump. It was your sister calling you to let you know she was in the building, ready to pick Charlie up. You gathered all his things as Lando greeted your sister, walking her in and guiding her to the guest room.
“Aw, he looks so peaceful.”
“Well, you should’ve seen him two hours ago,” you joked.
“I know,” she laughed with you. “Thank you for taking care of him on such short notice, you saved my life today.”
“It’s okay, I love spending time with Charlie, and I’m happy to do it any other time.” 
“Thanks, Y/N. He honestly loves you, you have no idea how happy he got when I told him we were coming here.” Your sister was about to carry Charlie in his arms, but Lando offered to bring him down to the car. 
Okay, now you got it. You had to admit that seeing Lando carry a little kid did things to you, and since your realisation a few minutes ago, you couldn’t stop thinking about a family; how did you suddenly get your own case of baby fever? Sure, you were still young, and that probably wouldn’t happen for at least a few years, but fantasising couldn’t hurt anyone. 
You walked back to the apartment holding Lando’s hand, his grip so tight you thought he could break your hand if he squeezed a little harder. As soon as the door closed behind you, he grabbed you by the hips and turned you around, his lips crashing into yours in an intense kiss.
Kissing him back, your arms wrapped around his neck as one hand played with his hair.
“You looked so pretty today, taking such good care of the baby,” he mumbled against your lips, biting it sofly. You couldn’t contain the moan that left your mouth, only encouraging him further. 
He carried you to your bedroom, immediately throwing you in the bed and hovering over you. He pressed himself further into you, making you very aware of his hardening cock as he nudged his bulge into your lower stomach. You moaned again, your legs going around his torso to pull him down.
“I wanna put a baby in you. God, you would look so perfect.” He didn’t know what to do with you. He wanted to kiss you, bite you; he wanted to touch you everywhere, his own mind making him feel overwhelmed. 
After quickly taking off your shirt, he started kissing you everywhere, a trail of wet kisses making their way down your body. His touch was electric, making you nearly squirm beneath him as your fingers kept a tight grip on his hair, and his words only made the feeling intensify. 
“Lando,” you moaned, he hummed in response, “do it,” you simply said. God, the way everything inside him shifted is something he wanted to remember for the rest of his life. He looked up at you, eyes filled with a hunger and desperation you had never seen before. 
“Yeah? You want me to put a baby here?” He asked you, his big hand falling on your lower stomach as he kissed it. 
“Mhm, yes.” Your heartbeat was as strong as ever, and you were already having a hard time focusing. You needed him to do something and you needed it now. 
“Fuck,” he breathed as his hips involuntarily thrusted into the mattress. His lips kept exploring the lower part of your body as his hands worked on getting rid of your joggers, hands falling on your thighs immediately after to move them to rest on his shoulders. 
“Please, I need you so bad,” you begged, and he assumed you were asking him to pay attention to your poor pussy, which you were, but his mouth is not what you needed right now, so you stopped him after one firm lick. “Inside me.”
“As you wish, my love.” 
He got off the bed to quickly discard his clothes as you did the same with your bra, falling back on the bed as you eagerly waited for him. You felt like his gaze was piercing you as he lowered his body, pressing himself against you.
You moaned in anticipation, your arms wrapped around his neck as you felt your pussy starting to drip with desire. He moved his fingers along your sides and all the way down to your hole, collecting your wetness and spreading everywhere, finally getting to your clit as he rubbed soft circles for a moment.
He moved his mouth to your chest, taking one of your nipples into your mouth as he whimpered, and his mind instantly went to how sensitive and full they would be once you were pregnant, and he couldn’t wait any longer. “You look so fucking sexy tonight, sweetheart... I wanna fuck you so bad.” He was practically drooling as his fingers left your pussy and grabbed his cock, pumping it a couple of times before guiding it to your entrance.
You couldn’t help your gaze dropping to his member, already swollen at the tip and bubbling with precum. It seemed impossible, but you were sure you had never needed him this bad.
He pushed into you, making both of you moan loudly as his eyes met yours for a moment before pressing a kiss on your lips, whispering a little “I love you.”
He didn’t give you that long to adjust. His hands went under your ass, moving you up and down his cock. As if your sex life wasn’t already rough, the intention he had in mind just made him go crazier, because the way he was thrusting into you was bound to leave you sore for days. 
The room was filled with whimpers and slick noises the whole time, moans of each other’s names joining from time to time. “Gonna fill you up so good,” he breathed, his hands squeezing your ass, “fuck, can’t wait to see your tummy grow.” All you could do was moan, the words leaving his mouth putting you under a spell that you could never escape. “Do you want that, love?”
“Uh- huh,” you managed to spit out, fingers drigging into his strong biceps.
“Wanna hear you say it.”
“Fuck- ah. I want you to put a baby in me.” You replied, eyes focusing on what your words did to him.
His hips began to speed up, thrashing your head against the pillows as he repeatedly hit that sweet spot deep inside you. He was so deep you could practically feel him in the pit of your stomach.
“Harder,” you whimpered, and he immediately started to drill into you, the air nearly getting knocked out of your lungs as his grip tightened. 
“You feel so good around me, so so good for me,” he pants, looking down to where you were connected. “Fuck.”
“Ah- Lando.” It felt so good. So good that you are too far out of reality to form any thoughts; you could only think about him and how good he looked above you, with his mouth hung open in pure pleasure as he panted.
One of his hands made its way to your tummy, pressing down where he could feel himself. It was so simple yet so effective; he could feel his cock moving deep inside you. He gragged it further, his fingers catching your clit.
“Fuck,” you let out a broken moan, “just like that.”
He smirked at this; it was like you were begging him to get you pregnant as you began to tighten around him. He knew you were close; he could not only feel it but see it, the way your eyes were squeezed shut as your legs started to quiver.
“You wanna cum? You wanna cum while I fill you up?”
“Fuck,” you screamed as your head frantically nodded. 
“Cum with me, I’m gonna put a baby in there.”
With that, your orgasm began to take over, squeezing around him tighter, triggering his own release. He slowed his movements down and both his hands took a hold of your waist, keeping you in place so you wouldn’t waste a single drop.
Both your moans were even louder as he did his best to continue pushing into you through his orgasm, wanting to pump as much of his seed into you as he possibly could. When he physically couldn’t keep going, he stopped, keeping his cock deep inside you as he tried to catch his breath. 
He looked down at you, a smile adorning his face as he looked down at the mess he made. Slowly, he pulled out, his fingers quickly replacing his cock as he pushed his cum back into you, making you squirm and whimper at how sensitive you were. 
“Gonna have to squeeze for me, love, you gotta keep it inside.” The sight almost made him want to fuck you again; he couldn’t believe how pretty you looked filled up to the brim with his cum.
His eyes locked with yours, fingers going inside his mouth as he licked them clean. He had lost his mind; you were sure of that, but fuck, you couldn’t deny how hot that was.
With a satisfied smirk, he fell next to you, pulling you into his arms as he kissed you once more. “I love you so much,” he whispered.
“I love you too.”
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rafecameroninterlude · 23 hours ago
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❀˖° scare actors in a haunted house weren’t the only thing that made bambi!reader scream.. in which you and rafe accidentally stumble into an empty room while running away from a group of ‘killer’ clowns.
warnings: haunted house setting, slight teasing, ft. topper and kelce, getting chased, dirty talk, fingering, quickie, unprotected sex, semi-public sex
a/n: this is a collab fic w/ my mootie @fae-of-prey & my first ever collab on this account <3 please go check out the fic she posted to see the prompt i gave her 🤍 happy early halloween!
“rafe, i told you i didn’t want to do this!” you cried, clinging onto his arm as you two neared the doors of the haunted house. he took your hand in his, an amused expression playing on his face as your heart pounded in your ears. “baby, you’re with me. absolutely nothing could happen to you, ‘swear.” rafe reassured you, pressing a kiss to your knuckles. it didn’t help in the slightest when one of the scare actors crept up on you in the line, tapping your shoulder before screaming in your face. rafe, along with topper and kelce all laughed, your cheeks heating with embarrassment.
rafe saw a flash of hurt cast over your features, quickly shutting up his friends as he pulled you to his side. “alright, how about this; you walk through this haunted house with me, and i’ll finally take you to that pumpkin patch, ‘sound good?” you looked up at him, a pout on your lips. “..and you have to dress up as whatever i want you to be for halloween.” you added, both of you moving up in the line. refraining from cursing under his breath, rafe agreed. “alright it’s a deal.” he nodded, both of you locking pinky’s. soon, you two were at the front of the line, a man with a clipboard stood outside of the doors.
“if you could please look over this waiver, we need the signatures of all participants before allowing anyone inside.” rafe signed the waiver without hestation, passing the clipboard over to you. “you didn’t even read it..” you whispered, looking over the paper. obstruction of vision, flashing lights, small spaces, nothing too bad. you signed your name, giving the clipboard to the man before he opened the door for you and rafe. “have fun!” he shut it behind you two. you clung onto rafe, your boyfriend holding onto you tightly as he guided you through the dark room.
“you’re alright, just keep walking.” as soon as you took a step, a man in a grotesque mask popped out in front of you and rafe before allowing you two to go down the hallway. “i can’t even see anything!” you screamed, nearly tripping over your own feet. rafe cursed under his breath as he helped you balance, his hands holding you tightly to his side. “fuck, i didn’t think it was going to be this dark.” he looked around, your eyes shining with fear as a weeping lady started making her way down from the end of the hallway. “i think we should run.” you gripped rafe’s fingers, your heart pounding with every step she took.
just as rafe was going to agree, the lady in a bloodied white dress bolted towards you two, a piercing scream leaving her lips. “they’re coming!” you and rafe flashed each other a look, a metal door creaking open to your right. before you could turn, a pair of hands grabbed you by the back of your dress, the death grip you had on rafe’s arm making him tumble inside the room with you. “shit!” rafe fell, dragging you down with him. just as you two were getting up, the lights turned on, your eyes widening as you realized you and rafe were surrounded by at least eight clowns.
rafe eyed the various weapons they carried. from baseball bats with nails, to bloody chainsaws, he swallowed thickly at the menacing sight. “alright, this is a little scary now i can’t lie..” you whimpered when they started circling you two. “you only have one chance to get out.. make it count.” just then, they made way for you and rafe to run through a set of double doors, their heavy footsteps clashing with the cement flooring as they chased after you and rafe. the lights were flashing rapidly, making everything look as if it moved in slow motion. “y/n! over here!” rafe shouted, reaching for your hand.
you grabbed onto him, a gasp leaving your lips when you two ran past a sign that said ‘employees only’. “wait! i don’t think we were supposed to turn in here!” you were panting, looking behind you as rafe broke through the door. “who cares? at least we lost them.” he laughed, pulling you inside the dimly lit room before twisting the lock shut. he flipped the light switch on, and instead of being surrounded by clowns this time, you two were surrounded by racks of costumes. “yeah, we’re definitely not supposed to be in here.” you sighed, watching as rafe plopped down on a chair in the corner of the room.
taking a moment to inspect your dress, you grimaced as the once sparkling white material was now dingy and stained, your shoes matching the mess. “i look disgusting..” you whispered, your skin damp with sweat. rafe looked up, his eyes scanning down your figure. “no you don’t.” he scoffed, motioning for you to sit on his lap. you obliged, wrapping an arm around his shoulders as you took your seat. “what made you want to wear a dress for a haunted house, hm?” he pressed his nose against your neck, his hair tickling your skin. you giggled, resting a hand on his chest as you shrugged.
“just thought it would look nice..” rafe hummed, pressing a kiss to the underside of your jaw before you felt his fingers slip underneath the fabric of your dress. “what are you doing?” you caught onto rafe’s ministrations, your eyes darting around the room as his fingers inched closer to your underwear. “we’ve done it everywhere else.. why not add the annual ‘kildare haunted house’ to the list?” you gasped softly when he started rubbing you over your panties. instinctively, your thighs opened for the man at your side, your head falling on his shoulder while he continued rubbing hard circles onto your clit.
“rafe, what if someone walks in?” your cheeks heated at the thought. “they’re not.. will you please stop worrying and just let me take care of you?” you swallowed thickly, nodding as he brought your leg over his thigh so you could straddle him. “it’s not my fault you look so fuckin’ pretty every time we go out somewhere.” he said through gritted teeth, hiking your dress up around your waist. finally taking your lips with his own, you whimpered when you felt him move your panties to the side. “being scared gets you this wet?” he slid a finger between your folds, his digit gliding with ease.
you hummed, your hips moving to grind on his hand. “being chased seems to turn you on..” he teased your entrance, “at least now i know i could chase you around tanneyhill and if i catch you, i could do whatever i want to you.” you moaned at his words, the idea igniting a fire in your belly. “that sounds good?” before you could reply, you felt rafe’s finger slide into your soaked cunt, a half-scream falling from your lips at the delicious stretch. “fuck, bambi,” he smiled wickedly, using his other hand to hold your dress out of the way, “you’re gonna let everyone know we’re in here.” rafe laughed.
you didn’t care at this point, your eyebrows knitting together as rafe pumped his digit in and out of your needy pussy. despite you buzzing with pleasure, your clit ached to be touched, the lack of friction making you whine. as if reading your mind, rafe unzipped his pants, guiding the tip of his cock to your entrance before you sunk down on him, both of you letting out a moan. “even with fake blood on you, you’re gorgeous.” rafe wiped away a red streak from your cheek, his eyes swimming with lust as you moved on top of him. “thank you.” you hiccuped, grabbing onto his shoulders for leverage.
rafe’s hand snaked down between you two, his thumb stroking your sensitive bundle of nerves as he whispered filthy obscenities in your ear. “ride that fucking cock, baby. show me how bad you want it.” you cried out, your nails digging into his skin as he sped up the ministrations on your clit. the sound of your juices squelching with every movement of your hips turned rafe on beyond belief. within minutes, rafe felt his release approaching, your own high not too far away as you started trembling in his arms. your thighs burned for some relief, rafe could tell by the way your hips stuttered that you needed a break.
“rub your clit for me, bambi.” he guided your hand down to where his thumb once was, locking his arms around your waist before thrusting up into you at a brutal pace. you squealed in pleasure, both of your orgasms hitting each other at the same time. “son of a bitch..” rafe hissed as he spilled into you, your walls milking him for everything he had. you bit into his shoulder, the stinging sensation making him pinch your thigh. “oh my god,” rafe’s chest rose and fell with each breath, “are you okay?” you nodded weakly, resting your head on his shoulder.
rafe got both of you up, the two of you examining yourselves in the full body mirror to make sure you two looked presentable. “so i was thinking.. what if you dressed up as woody from toy story and i’ll be little bo peep?” you fixed your dress, batting your eyelashes up at him. once rafe fixed his belt, he flashed you a glare. “jesus christ, y/n..” he shook his head. “you promised!” just as you were going to clasp your hands together and beg, the door knob started rattling. “open the fucking door, man!” rafe recognized the voice immediately. “it’s locked, dumbass!”
“is that kelce and topper?”
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411 notes · View notes
wonderjanga · 2 days ago
Text
When Billy was a Newbie
I like to think some of these scenarios happened when Billy was first starting out as a hero.
Villain: *monologging*
Marvel: *doesn’t even let them finish and socks the shit out of them and takes them to the police department*
This happens a good twenty times until one villain has enough.
Villain: *monologging*
Marvel: *about to attack while they’re talking*
Villain: “OKAY WAIT WAIT WAIT, STOP RIGHT THERE YOU BASTARD.”
Marvel: *stops, confused*
Villain: “I know you’re new to this whole thing, but you do realize you’re supposed to let us monologue and tell you our evil plan, right?! You’re not supposed to cut us off!”
Marvel: “I’m not?”
Villain: “No!”
Marvel: “Oh. I’m sorry about that, Mx. Supervillain. I’ll let you and the other ones talk next time.”
Villain: “Wait, really?”
After this, he actually does end up letting them talk and all that.
I also think something like this would happen when he was getting used to fighting crime.
Marvel: *throws one of the big blue mail boxes at some low level, human, emphasis on human, crooks* “Oh… my bad, guys! I was a little too harsh.”
Crooks: *severely injured* “What do you mean ‘your bad’?!?????? That was a little more than harsh!”
Then, there’s the fact I think he wouldn’t care about where he’s saving people. By that I mean, Billy has a lot of free time because he doesn’t go to school. Because of this, you’ll casually see Captain Marvel in flipping Milwaukee helping some people who got into a car crash, then in Orlando helping out with a fire, then in San Jose helping someone who lost their dog. Point is, if there’s someone to help out, he’ll help. Through this, he met Superman actually. Funnily enough, it was while holding up a building.
Marvel: *holding up a building*
Supes: *flies down* “You’re Captain Marvel, right?”
Marvel: “Huh? Uh yeah?” *looks over Superman, seeing his suit and thinking he’s another hero (Billy doesn’t know most heroes because this was when the time bubble recently popped)
Supes: “You need a hand with that?”
Marvel: “Yes, please.”
Supes and Marvel: *work together to move the building to somewhere safe so it won’t hurt anyone*
Marvel: “Thanks.”
Supes: “No problem.”
*awkward silence*
Supes: “If I can ask, what brought you to Metropolis?”
Marvel: “I’m here to fight crime…?” *says like it’s super obvious*
Supes: “Wha? Don’t you have your own city?”
Marvel: “I mean, I guess. Fawcett isn’t really my city though. I just protect it.”
Supes: *blanking and trying to come up with something to say* “Captain, you can’t just go around in other hero’s cities and fight crime for them. It’s a breach of territory.”
Marvel: “It is?”
Supes: “Yes, it is. Honestly, I’m just happy you didn’t do this in Gotham. Batman would’ve been furious.”
Marvel: “Oh. Okay then… so just stick to cities that don’t have heroes?”
Supes: “Well, I guess but don’t you normally-”
Marvel: *beaming smile* “I appreciate the advice, Mr. Superman.”
Supes: “Your…welcome? Wait, what do you mean ‘stick to the cities that don’t have heroes’?”
Marvel: “Oh, well, when crimes slow and nothing’s going on in Fawcett, I kind of just fly around everywhere looking for stuff to do. Just the other day I helped these two old, farmer people, husband and wife, lift their tractor out of some mud.”
Supes: *a little astounded he has that much time on his hands* “Really? Where was that?”
Marvel: “Kansas. I think the town they lived in was Smallville or something?”
Supes: *nearly shits himself* “Ah… I see.”
Then there was the time he met a random Green Lantern. He had no idea what the Lantern Corp were, but any information Solomon gave him made them sound cool though. But you want to know the worst part of this interaction? The Lantern was trying to give Marvel a ring.
Random GL (RGL): *talking about how he wanted to give Billy the ring and yadayadayada*
Marvel: *not even listening due to the Gods talking a whole lot*
Mercury: “BILLY STEAL THE RING!”
Marvel: *saying this out loud* “What? What ring?”
RGL: *confused, says something Billy isn’t paying attention to*
Mercury: “THE RING ON HIS FINGER. KEEP UP WITH THE PROGRAM.”
Marvel: *still talking out loud* “Oh okay okay… how do I do that?”
Solomon: “You are supposed to use your will.”
Marvel: “Huh? Solomon there’s no way that’ll wor…” *trails off as he wills the ring off the lantern’s finger* “I take back what I said.”
RGL: *starts to fall*
Marvel: “Holy moly!” *rushes down to catch him*
RGL: “Earthling what the hell is wrong with you?! Why would you do that??!?”
Marvel: “I’m sorry! The voices has told me to.” *gives them back their ring*
RGL: *flies off grumbling how he’s a psychopath*
Then there was when Marvel joined the Justice League. When he got the communicator, he put it in his pocket dimension and promptly forgot about it.
Marvel: “The Justice League hasn’t contacted me. I wonder if I’ve done something wrong…”
Meanwhile…
Batman: “This is like the third meeting he’s missed, Clark.”
Supes: “I know, I know! I’m sorry! He didn’t seem like the type to skip out on meetings. He talked like he had a bunch of free time.”
WW: “You should go talk to him. You are the one who invited him.”
Supes: *sighs* “I will.”
Back in Fawcett…
Marvel: *helping a cat down from a tree*
Supes: *flies down when he sees him* “Captain! Can we talk?”
Marvel: *hands cat back to its owner* “Mr. Superman. Of course! I’ve actually had something I’ve been meaning to talk about with you too.”
Supes: “Right, well I guess I’ll cut straight to the point. Is there a reason you haven’t shown up to the last meetings?”
Marvel: *stares at him with the most confused face* “Meetings?”
Supes: *confused at Billy’s confusion* “Yes? You get notified on your comm about them.”
Marvel: “Comm… Comm?” *thinking face before recognition flits across his face* “Wait, this thing?” *reaches hand into pocket dimension and pulls out his JL comm*
Supes: *slightly horrified when he saw his arm disappear for a moment* “Yeah. That.”
Marvel: *taps comm and sees over 45 unread notifications* “Oh.”
Supes: *wondering how in the world Marvel never checked his comm* “Oh indeed.”
289 notes · View notes
sunboki · 3 days ago
Text
— HELLION INN. a Stray Kids fiction
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🌖 : Lee Minho x implied! fem. reader
TROPE. dystopian! au, enemies to lovers, monster! au, apocalypse! au, “we have to get along to survive” au, angst, high stakes
WORD COUNT. 10k ⭑ 50min read
WARNINGS. gory descriptions, cursing, descriptive violence, implied intercourse, death, a dubcon kiss, talk of vomit/vomiting, lots of mentions of death, one mention of k*lling oneself, parasites, murder, inclusion of fire, injury, usage of guns, injury, knives, reader and minho are “hunted”, mature themes
AUG'S NOTES. it’s finished! i wanted to cry (out of happiness!!) closing the last part :) i truly love this piece, and, though it certainly isn’t all too lovey dovey compared to alternative fics of mine, i was so incredibly fortunate to be able to write for themes i adore! i hope my enthusiasm was able to be conveyed in the subject of monsters/apocalyptic au’s!! please enjoy<3
PLAYLIST.
SYNOPSIS. Receiving an ominous letter in the mail, a monster invades Seoul minutes later, carrying an uncanny sense of smell despite its blindness. Countless people have been slaughtered already, and with your letter as the only meager explanation to this madness, you find your feet leading towards the one place it said was safe: Hellion Inn.
or alternatively :
Minho won’t let you die. Not if it means letting this Monster get him or hell’s dawning itself. You’re going to survive. Together.
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Run, something is coming. Go to Hellion Inn, you’ll be safe there.
Something? What is something? A terrorist attack? War?
Never had such a letter arrived at your doorstep other than this Tuesday, with the morning sunlight peeking through half-opened blinds casting your pajama-clad frame in its cascades.
And again, you reread and reread, questions raging in a distorted frenzy amidst your once just-wakening mind. 
Little were you aware what would come. What already roamed Seoul’s streets, approaching closer, closer. 
One objective resides in too many possibilities. 
Find Hellion Inn. 
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.
.
.
Stuffing the letter in your pocket serves as the most sensible solution while you go over your options. If you didn’t have a clue about what dishes would be cooked, you’d check the ingredients first.
And yet, upon turning on the TV, you find your meal already served. 
On a platter, dripping with blood.
“This just in, an unidentifiable entity is making its way through Seoul in a rampage. The creature is highly dangerous. It appears to lack vision, and speculation has deemed it relies upon its smell to discern other beings. The creature has not been detained at this time. Under no circumstances should citizens leave their residences, and in the case you’re on the street, please evacuate to the nearest shelter immediately. Further information will be released.”
Your blood runs frigidly cold, enough you swear you could’ve turned to ice.
All of a sudden, war or a terrorist attack doesn’t sound nearly as daunting as before.
A monster. Ruthless, bloodthirsty. 
Monster. 
Instantaneously are news sites everywhere exploding, posting footage, pictures, and accounts of the creature each second. 
More and more and more until-
It all goes dark, your home plunged into a black abyss meagerly sustained by the sun’s rays, phone in hand ultimately powering off. 
Electricity down. Fully.
This isn’t like a usual predicament of a public threat, not something you’re prepared for, nor something anyone was prepared for. There’s no drill for a monster, no tsunami shelter or high rise building to reside upon. 
Was it obliviousness? Or were you all simply sheep to a ravaging wolf?
The latter seemed most convincing.
An exhale. No, a growl is what breaks your train of thought. Like the chuff of a tiger, curdling in its throat. 
Above. 
You can’t even bring yourself to move, can’t bear to breathe in fear you’d give yourself away as a shadow covers that once hopeful sunlight.
No shadow, but a thing. A monster. 
How did it get here so fast? How.. how the hell is this happening?
The sound of tiles shifting on your roof makes your fingers twitch, eyes stuck wide. 
The worlds apex predators turned into the prey. 
Each pound of your heart lies evident in ringing ears, listening to those low, horrendous gurgles, repeating that same chuff before it shifts again.
Again and again, and you’re unmoving.
Leave. Run. Anything. 
Yet, you can’t move a muscle, glued in place.
Until you do, and your legs act before you can process a thing. Grabbing for items, whatever it may be. Mind unable to process in its frantic state.
No. No.
A plea as your hand wraps around the doorknob, beginning down the apartment complex’s stairs in rapid descent, listening to the slow growls of the creature.
Don’t look behind, just go.
A mistake you find yourself making even when a life is on the line.
Your life is on the line.
And when you spare that single glimpse, murky lifeless eyes stare blindly back at you, bulging from its skull as if they never were intended to be there. Skin a hallowed, fleshy tone — ligaments hung awry. 
Disorderly, distasteful. If you look close enough, you swear you could’ve seen a beating heart, watched the oxygen cells rush through a pumping bloodstream. 
Gaping jaws hold copious teeth, ant-like incisors residing on either side of a ceaselessly smiling mouth, the corners of what appears to be lips ascending all the way up to nonexistent ears. 
Four legs, two antennae atop its head. At least two times the size of a human.
Horrific.
Never had such a thing appeared so terrifying.
With the letter clutched in one hand and your powerless phone in another do you run, praying that nonexistent vision truly is nonexistent.
Well, until a car alarm begins to ring, and you feel your stomach climb to your throat simultaneously.
Because it twitches. Not even a glance-sort of reaction. The entirety of whatever neck that monster hones twitches to look at you with a nausea-worthy crack! of its ligaments. Those jaws parted, a flattened nose breathing in.
And then it lurches, and you don’t think you’ve ever ran as fast as you did now.
Far, far. As far as you can go. 
It’s futile listening to gargled cries for help amongst rubble, the reaching of hands for your feet you can’t even spare a moment for as those scraping claws continue their perilous dance after you, scavenging on people as they go. 
So the second an intact person comes into view—a boy, looking about your age (and freakishly calm at that) with fluffy hair and rounded cheeks retaining such youth—you’re racing ahead before you can even think, ramming through those convenience store doors in a flurry of panic and fear.
“Monster— Monster- there’s a monster we have to go-“
“Do you like grilled cheese?” He mumbles, and you wonder if he’s talking to himself or you, no less asking such a question during this downright apocalypse.
“No, no there is—“ A shriek pierces the air in the distance, the clutter of debris alerting the monster’s proximity.
You, in a frantic attempt to redirect his attention, place either hand on his shoulders.
“A monster. There’s a monster out there and if we don’t hide, it’s going to kill us.” 
The boy licks his lips, cocking a contemplative brow before looking toward the freezer section. 
“Freezer?”
At this point the creature might as well be turning the corner, and you don’t need to respond for either of you to go running as fast as your legs will carry you, stuffing yourselves into the biting cold just as the bells above the entrance door ring.
Scariest part is this customer is intelligent enough to open doors.
This customer isn’t human. 
Like slow-motion you hear it. The pounding of your heartbeat in your ears, the lack of air in such a tight space, the monster’s rumbling.
Your hidden counterpart lodged himself into a freezer opposite to you, eyes squeezed shut the nearer clicking footsteps on tile sounded.
Click.
Click.
Click.
You don’t realize your eyes are closed until you open them, met with the monster’s face, hundreds of razor-sharp teeth lining its mouth, stretched into that same, chilling smile while it stares at you through the glass.
It can’t see you. It can’t see you. It can’t see you, You internally plead like a mantra, suffocating on the scream rising in your throat.
The loud clanging of a soup can the boy throws has the creature’s disfigured face whipping around, and you wordlessly communicate through mere terrified-eye-contact what either of you are thinking:
Run.
Without conscious you go flying, ramming past discarded groceries and tormented bodies into Seoul’s open roadway, void of any vehicle whatsoever.
Except for one.  
It’s a tow truck, key still lodged into the ignition, window broken with streaks of blood lining the door where a middle-aged man’s body had been dragged out. He rests lopsided below the front tire, abdomen severed in half.
Grotesque. 
“Car- Car!” You cry out, wildly gesturing for him to follow suit while you pry the driver’s door open, the monster’s frustrated growl enough motivation for the stranger to throw himself in as well.
In the nick of time you press down on the pedal, winding the wheel in a quick motion just as the hell-sent smashes itself from the shop, evidently angered.
“I’m Han!” The man occupying the passenger seat shouts, the hole through the windshield causing enormous amounts of wind to soar through the car and synonymously blur your senses.
“What?!” 
“My name is Han! Han Jisung!”
Squinting whilst looking through your mirror at the wickedly approaching Monster, you veer past as many obstacles as possible — most being corpses — as fast as the engine will let you.
“Oh! Uh, I’m Y/N!”
Han nods, grasp clutched onto his seat the more you speed increases, recklessly maneuvering left and right as if dodging a crocodile. 
Unfortunately, this wasn’t a crocodile, but a blood-thirsty beast wanting nothing more than to behead you. How sweet.
“Do you… Do you know how to drive?” He yells, and you raise your eyebrows, narrowly shifting past a shopping cart.
“If you count Mario-Kart as driving, I’m a pro!”
Han audibly squeaks his fear in response, eyes squeezing shut as if to not stare at the monster’s face nearing the mirror.
The speedometer cries out, vehicle shuddering as you near train tracks just at the edge of the city. 
Hopeful. 
Fleeting hope when the roar of a train’s whistle soars through the air, the look Han gives you doing little to sustain your already thinned sanity.
Perhaps you’ll die getting hit by a train than this monster.
Perhaps it’s better that way.
“We’re not gonna make it we’re not gonna make it we’re not gonna make i—“
“SHUT THE FUCK UP—-“ You screech, foot slammed as far down on the gas pedal as possible, the rumbling of the train’s engine deafening. 
“HOLY SHITTTT—“ The man screams, mouth ajar as you soar over the tracks, preparing for impact only for a hair of the train’s front barely brushing over the car’s bumper. 
Currently realizing you’re still breathing and not dead, you floor the brake, either of you launching forward in your seats while the endless train keeps the monster at bay on the opposite side. 
Both panting hysterically, you place a hand on your chest, hoping to slow down the terrifyingly fast pace of your heart — close to bursting out of your chest. 
Your passenger, Han Jisung, turns to look at you, eyes wide as saucers, a gradual open-mouthed smile growing upon his flushed, sweat-stricken face.
“That was.. sick.”
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The flashlight flickers here and there, found in the tow truck’s trunk along with a med kit currently carried along by Han.
By chance did you end up in what remained of the red-light district, rubble dotting roadways as evidence of the Monster’s previous siege.
Amidst the held supplies, your pocket seems to ache with the weight of the letter, sitting there in its futile warning of what was to come, now arrived.
You hadn’t brought it up to Han yet, a persistent fear of blame lingering in the back of your mind. Was it your fault you didn’t react in time? Disregarded the letter?
No. There’s no time to regret now. Whatever past existed has been annihilated. 
Night is approaching, and with that comes rising unease and a desperate need to find shelter.
Seoul’s red-light district had always been a taboo for Korea’s upper class. A hushed word, quenched beneath harsh scolding and wrinkled noses at the mere mention.
As if their own well-off sons don’t get driven there on a daily basis, ignorant to their own affiliation as if it’s a genetically determined trait.
Quite funny how none of that matters now. Not when it’s the end of the world, that is.
Every (once) building looks the same. Rubble. Litter lines the roads, cars strewn awry, wrecked into buildings, run over people. 
A pattern lies in everything. 
This pattern consists of fear. 
Struck on faces, painted carelessly along torn apart surfaces and walls, splattering the cities ruby red.
Incessantly, you can’t help but fear. A natural biological response when in the presence of actual or perceived danger, inflicting sharp wounds throughout your body, mind on an endless neurological high of adrenaline-fueled paranoia. 
How could someone not be paranoid when they were being hunted?
“In here.”
Han’s voice pulls you out of your head, turning where he points to a brick building, multicolored beach towel draped over a window torn to shreds, soil from plants staining the cracks of tiles, floor a mixture of blood and bacteria. 
“It’s abandoned,” He notes, prying the creaking door open. 
Abandoned isn’t the word for it. The inhabitants left as most people did upon hearing the news of invasion, although they didn’t get far, you’re plenty aware of that. 
What a shame. Thinking they could escape, in their wake, slaughtered ruthlessly. 
Instead of abandoned, call it evacuated, barren.  
Inside, a radio runs in a constant string of white noise, the addition of broken air conditioning the only source of apparent life. Haunting, flickering lights cast the few rooms in an eerie, ghoulish green like that of a basement.
“I’ve been here before. There should be a mart nearby.”  
Allowing his remark to sink in, you pause, a slight grin drawing upon your lips. 
“You’ve been here before, in the red-light district?” 
Phrase lingering amusedly, he stops as well, shifting on his heel to grace you with a similar smile.
“What? Not everyone can stand high and mighty in this society. Plus, there’s no need to pretend anymore when death is so close by.”
Your smile drops, and you suck on the skin of your cheek, a loud breath through your nose enough to continue the descent.
Perhaps you should change the abandoned description. 
Just then, from the corner of your eye do you see a figure emerge, the glinting edge of a kitchen knife barely brushing your shoulder blade before you dodge to your left, the attacker colliding with an ironing board.
Mere seconds later the figure rises to their feet, identified as female, adorning lanky limbs and skin as pale and zombified as the surrounding room. Her lips are cracked and purple, eyes nearly black, blanketed with equally raven hair reaching the floor in length.
The girl looks like a creature, barely alive with the lack of coordination in her loose stabs, alienated stare vividly murderous. 
Only by narrowly pummeling into the wall do you manage to immobilize her, Jisung’s efforts stalled.
Liquid obsidian blinks back up at you from where you’ve caged her to the floor, her nostrils flaring in hasty breaths, your own panting ringing in your ears.
“Look kid- I’m not gonna hurt you, okay? Now if you calm down and let me—“  
A third of the steak knife puncturing the side of your thigh veers your head back, choked scream jostling your nerves tenfold. Bubbling blood slips from the wound, trickling warmth dizzying you into a foggy spell.
It’s not until a low bang! sounds that her arm, raised for another strike, falls limp to the floor, looking behind you to find Jisung holding a pistol, silencer attached to the muzzle, aimed directly at the girl below you. 
Immediately, before you can release the unheralded screech compressing your lungs, Han hoists you up by your elbows, the jarring movement beckoning a squealed sob you bite your tongue containing.
Snatching clothing from a closet behind the door, the man rips the fabric using his teeth, returning to your slumped frame.
Reminding you to hold your breath, he aligns the makeshift bandage prior to tying it, your reaction becoming quieted as your eyes roll back.
And the world falls into a dark abyss. 
By the time your lashes flutter open again, searing light invades your vision, the urge to open your eyes aiding a roaring headache.
Although, it appears you’re still in the same room, alternatively relocated to a futon on the floor, leg propped up using folded pillowcases and books. 
“You’re up.”
Han enters the room, two metal cans of mashed spam and rice held in either hand, one of which he gives to you. 
“You were knocked out cold,” He laughs, eyes crinkling at the corners, uncharacteristic to the fact he just shot someone.
“The shirt should staunch the bleeding. Eat.”
Staring down at your meal, you glance up, stomach churning in an unsightly manner merely considering food.
But you eat anyway, gulping the bites down despite the nausea.
“And the girl?” 
Han takes a bite, scraping every last grain from the noisy tin without so much as a shiver.
“I took care of it.”
It’s your turn to laugh, confusedly surveying the teenage-boy-looking friend of yours.
“What are you? A hitman?”
He clicks his tongue, eyes thoughtfully flickering to the ceiling. 
“I’m.. somebody who really wants to survive.”
All you do is return his tight-lipped expression.
Yet, truly accounting for your introduction, there’s a whole lot you don’t know about him. His past, his goals. What his life was like before. 
He comes off as cheery and good-natured, disposition claiming he wouldn’t hurt a fly. 
You’ve come to realize that isn’t the reality whatsoever. Because Han Jisung is exactly what Han Jisung said he was.
Somebody who really wants to survive. 
You can relate to that.
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“So.. Random note, random warning, no location?” 
“Pretty much.” 
Seated beside you, Han surveys the letter, reading over the contents a few times before folding it back up and handing it to you. He’s redressed your wound, utilizing the medical kit’s antiseptic and gauze to wrap the skin.
“Hellion Inn,” Han repeats softly, brows knitted. “Never heard of it.”
You shrug once more from your place on the ground, leg still propped while he squats to your left.
“If anything, it’s likely it was destroyed if it’s an actual Inn,” He mumbles, tapping a puffy bottom lip with his index, earning your half nod before you pause.
“We can still try it though? We can find a stick or somethin’, I’ll use it as a crutch.” 
This time, it’s his turn to nod — rising up with a somewhat-assuring: “I’ll be right back” before leaving the room, returning after a few moments with a table leg, nearly comical in the proud manner he lifts the wood, jagged edges evidence of his severing with a knife. 
After copious laughter do you glance at him, brow cocked. “This is really all you’ve got?”
Asking from your place beside him, you brace more weight onto the makeshift crutch, granting Han a side-long glance.
“If I had more I’d use it,” He huffs, watching you hobble slightly but remaining upright with worried brows, hands poised to stabilize your steadying adjustment.
That’s most important, you deemed, no matter how puny. A drag to the team means death; you won’t be that drag.
Tomorrow morning you’ll head out. Find somewhere else to occupy whilst searching for Hellion Inn.
The one remaining routine amidst the apocalypse is time, and as the sun cracks above a horizon once able to be admired and not envied, you’re helped to your feet, gathering bags slung over each other's backs. Additional clothes, torn tablecloths. Anything of even insufficient use.
You don’t think these streets had been this quiet since your grandparent’s time, with bustling citizens and raging business overtaking wherever you look. Now, it might as well be a ghost-town. No more cries for help, no more groans and moans in agony.
And yet, it’s almost unsettling as it is reassuring. Suffering has ceased. Cries for help drawn to a close. 
Peace within death.
Trekking for only about a mile feels tumultuous, the ache already coiling in your bones like snakes seen slithering through rubble, waiting for rats to swarm decomposing carcasses in search of easy victims.
Seoul has become a jungle, eat or be eaten. It’s only a matter of time, a split-second ignorance, that can have you eaten. Perhaps by the true Monster, perhaps by your own kind.
The sight of broken columns and french doors parted in what looks to be a hotel in front of you redirects your focus, granting Han a hum of acknowledgment. His hand reaching for the pistol in a fashioned holster, yours coming to the kitchen knife held in your bag.
Wary, but slow steps paired with your hobbled ones make for the small bout of stairs, buzzing of flies caught in flurries littering goosebumps along your arms.
Something about this place is abnormal. That much is known. And if this is the so-called “Hellion Inn” (or what remains of it), your hope for sanctuary plummets in tandem with the temperature upon stepping in. 
Cold. That dead, stale kind of cold, warmth from the heart void, no longer beating.
Matchstick providing barely enough light, you carefully pry open the squeaking doors in the second doorway, blade wielded close to your being. The putrid odor of decay perplexes your gag reflexes, allowing Han to take the lead in his observing endeavor. 
Abruptly, your foot smushes against something below, and when you look down only to be met with a lifeless hand there, bulging, horror-stricken eyes staring back up at you, you hurriedly bite your lip to conceal the bubbling scream clawing from your throat, frothing like a brewing cauldron. 
Han can only grimace. 
It was here. You’re not sure when, but these wounds — these corpses mercilessly ripped apart — aren’t the doing of humans.
A bone chilling thought surfaces in your mind.
What if the monster is still here?
Your traveling companion spins around on his heel, hands placed on his hips. Honeyed irises momentarily flit between your paled frame to the obvious terror staining your features, his eyebrows raised.
“Hey, I know it’s scary, but the monster’s likely gone by now, and if we can find someone or a sign that’ll redirect us then maybe…”
His words trail off, suddenly all too familiar with the sound of chortled breathing ragged in his ears. Exhales stenching of rotted flesh, the scraping of sharpened claws on the floor.
And how you’re not staring at him, but above him. 
Your palms slowly reach up to cover your mouth, taking the tiniest step back manageable.
“..It’s right behind me, isn’t it?”
Yet, before the Monster can swipe a clawed hand and hack off a limb, deja vu strikes in the form of another gunshot, not silenced, booming,
It soars right past your shoulder with pinpoint precision to land within the Monster’s side, collecting a shriek in return. The beast flails wildly as Han races from its clutches towards the unknown savior of his.
Fluffy hair, a torn, mud-stained jean jacket over his shoulders, white undershirt equally unkempt. The four of you survey the monster’s descent deeper into the hotel, not appearing to execute anymore attack attempts.
For now.
No less, you’re helped outside in your wobbly state, the shot-gun boy leading, another seeming to take up the rear behind you and Han. His companion, maybe. Just as you and Han are.
Sharper features oppose the shotgun-carrying boy’s downturned eyes with inquisitive, apprehensive ones. Lighter hair, jeans bagging by his shoes, white tee’s once graphic design smudged, unrecognizable. His own weapon lies in spiked boxing gloves, nails seemingly ruptured through the cushioned layers.
And when his eyes meet yours, you feel fire in your veins. Blazing, warming you from your toes to your fingertips.
“You guys alright?”
Shot-gun boy, introduced as Kim Seungmin, speaks first, spinning on his heel to regard either of you. Though, it’s hard for your mind to stay attentive, the feeling of Seungmin’s companions’ eyes incessantly boring into your back causing a wary twitch of your fingers. 
“Lee Minho.”
His voice breaks you from that apprehensive spell, that watchful gaze of his surveying both you and Han with an unimpressed exhale.
“Don’t slow us down,” He scowls, shouldering past Han, lips drawn into a tight line. He heads for their own vehicle, a worn down truck narrowly resting in better condition than your earlier tow truck by the tracks.
Real friendly.
Seungmin, a tad bit more benign, gestures with a curt nod to the vehicle, ushering your injury-wielding self to sit in the passenger seat with Minho as driver, Seungmin and Han taking the truck’s bed.
Just then does the Monster make its return, bursting from the hotel in a seemingly rejuvenated spirit from before, gaping jaws aching to be filled.
You could only hope your flesh wouldn’t be the filler.
“This is why I hate introductions,” Minho, already slamming his foot onto the pedal, grumbles, not granting a response upon tires burning rubber over dusty roads as you speed off – a replay of your ride with Han on loop each time you see the Monster in your mirror.
Approaching closer, closer again.
It seems food becoming involved is a common theme, jarred when the truck swerves in front of a supermarket. Seungmin shouts from the back as he and Han race ahead, beckoning you two to follow them, your steps lightly hobbled with feeble help of the makeshift crutch.
“The hell do I have to be on babysitting duty for?” Minho, lifting your arm over his shoulder, grovels, and you fight the urge to whack him with your crutch, making through the desolate supermarket. 
Weapons in clutch, it grows taxing trying not to grimace hearing clattering glass, the mental picture of those bulging eyes doing little for your already queasy stomach.
“It’ll hear us!” 
With your horrible luck intact, this already dislikable stranger ends up being the same soul you're lodged into a bathroom stall with.
Minho hisses, furrow of his brows causing his face to scrunch with distaste, the loud clatter of soup cans and chip bags alike resounding from outside in the thick of the Monster’s carnage.
“No, it’ll hear you. More people means more death, and lucky for you, I’ll be off your hands in no time.” Now it’s your turn to retort, the man lacking of his usual boxing gloves, strap of Seungmin’s shotgun over a shoulder instead.
Wriggling yourself from his grasp, you hesitantly slide the notch to the door, movement only stopped by Minho’s lingering hand grabbing your sleeve. 
“And what the hell are you doing?”
“I’m repaying a favor.”
Weighing your ability to walk well, you snag the shotgun from his shoulder, granting the man a wink and a: “Thanks for the shotgun”, before slipping from the stall, leaving his starstruck figure in tow.
Ignoring the biting ache in your thigh thanks to a discarded crutch, you savor cool metal beneath your fingertips, watching the blur of the other two boys racing past the Monster’s attempts of attack. 
“Hey! Ugly fucker, over here!” You shout, chilled seeing blind eyes rip your way.
Cocking the gun, your eyes narrow, focusing the sight on its head and–
Bang!
Echoing around the supermarket does a copper bullet gnash into thin skin, puncturing straight through, shell casing crinkling onto the floor below in tandem with a low groan of the creature.
Minho bursts from the bathroom moments later, still sporting a starstruck visage. Han and Seungmin go thundering right past back to the truck, the wild goose chase persisting. 
What wasn't persistent was Minho’s arms wrapping around your back, hauling you over his shoulder like a sack of rice whilst chasing right after his counterparts.
As much as you’d like to thank him, your thigh still hurts like hell.
“Yah! That- hurts- asshole!” Shrieked between his hurried footsteps, you smack his shoulder blade defiantly.
Hopefully that serves as a thank you.
However, escaping is far from reach, and feeling presumably safe is equally residing far from grasp when, after finally being able to inhale without a stutter to your lung halfway down the road, the sharp snap of a tire blows.
And the truck flips over.
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It was one thing maneuvering from the flipped car, shards of glass embedded in your skin beckoning pinpricks of blood, and another continuing on foot to wherever the two acquaintances planned to lead to.
The largest of things, however, was learning the name of this apparent destination.
Hellion Inn.
With Seungmin sustaining a minor head injury, Han luckily unharmed, and an also unharmed Minho reluctant to aid in being your temporary crutch, you’re given plenty of time for interrogation along the way — wondering just who the hell was responsible for the letter. 
As far as their replies go, not a soul knows.
And at this rate, you can’t bring yourself to care about pestering for answers anymore, not with Minho’s aggravating complaining and equally as irritating, stupidly good-looking side profile.
So, the torturous walk to this supposed ‘Inn’ prevails, which, turns out not to be an Inn at all. Instead, it’s this metal, bus looking contraption, like a trailer.
Silver of the exterior tarnished, it hides within a surrounding forest entryway, vines curling around door fixtures as if with time, what remained would be swallowed by the greenery.
From the bus two more men exit, and you can’t help but wonder if this so-called Hellion Inn has just as many residents as an actual Inn.
Christopher Bahng and Seo Changbin introduce themselves hastily, quick to rush back into the bus and retrieve a medical kit. After enduring both the painful removal of glass, your reopened wound stitched, and Chris’s heart wrenching smile of assurance (followed by a pat to your kneecap after, ensuring an imminent heart attack on your part), you’re finally invited inside, introduced to the others.
Three more. 
It’s a clown car. Definitely. 
Yang Jeongin, Hwang Hyunjin, Lee Felix. Boys- no, men, with features you’d like to deem frustratingly attractive. 
Maybe photoshoot, not a clown car.
No less, the seven interact with ease, Han intermingling as if he’d been by their side for eternity. A bonfire, expertly lit behind the bus hidden amongst foliage to conceal smoke, provides warmth in the night.
Cold, just as it’s always been. Even more so with autumn’s presence.
Yet, you find your eyes falling right back to him.
Minho.
Man of fire, whose gaze on yours feels like your ribs cracking apart, as if his fingers bend your windpipe every which way, rendering no air into your lungs. He is fire, licking at your skin in the most deplorable of ways.
And you crave it.
If he were Hades, you’d eat the pomegranate seeds like a fool just to feel his eyes on you again and again.
Selfish.
When he looks at you, you feel selfish. Perhaps it’s the stakes, perhaps your heart has grown too weak, beat too fast it falls for any and all. Adrenaline-induced love.
You aren’t naive like Persephone, aren’t blindsided by curiosity.
That latter is a lie. Especially when you shift on the log, purposefully scooting closer to catch bits and pieces of his conversation with Jeongin, listen to the perfect pitch of his voice, aided by the crackling of flames before you.
You wonder if touching him would rival those white-hot flames. Scalding your fingers till you grew numb. 
You’d take that bet.
Fluffy fabric placed over your shoulders makes you flinch in place, sympathetic eyes of chocolate meeting yours.
Honeyed. Chris.
“It’s cold, stay warm,” He ushers, crouching to take a seat on your left.
Then do you register his actions. A blanket, the material a survivor of water’s toil and plenty of stains. But it’s warm, durable, and most importantly, sweet. Chris is sweet, you decide, a bit like this warm blanket.
Your nod of thanks doesn’t feel like it even slightly compensates for his kindness, though, for now, it’s enough.
Tomorrow, Chris, Changbin, Minho, and Jeongin will relocate the flipped truck. Haul it back, fix it up again. That’s what your sensible mind discerns, seemingly adopted into the group like any other as sleeping arrangements in the bus are modified for both you and Han.
Strays, huh.
A flickering gas lamp keeps your gaze glued to the ceiling where you lie, watching shadows twirl like a strange ballet along the walls. Near the front of the bus does Chris sleep, Changbin glued to his side, Felix tucked beneath his arm.
It brings a smile to your lips, watching them. Even Seungmin, with his more boundary-oriented persona, close to the others, his hand brushing against Hyunjin’s shoulder, Jeongin’s head. 
Human beings, after all. Even when it all falls apart. And maybe, maybe in monsters as well, there is human. The need to be close, to feel skin on skin. 
Counting heads, you find one missing.
“You should be sleeping.”
Minho flicks a lighter on and off, waiting to relight the gas lamp. He squats down in front of you, jeans stretched over muscular thighs.
Your brow furrows, wondering if he’d been here this whole time amidst your ignorance.
“Are you scared?”
His words dull your ability to reply, retort something smart. But, the tone keeps your mouth shut. Cool and calm, like when he spoke to Jeongin by the fire. Not taunting, nor instigating.
“No.”
The words are a lie, unveiled in the crease of a dirt-stricken face, chapped lips pulled taut.
His pinky finding yours verifies that fire theory. From the tips of your toes to the very top of your scalp you feel it. 
Scorching. Hot.
Your skin seems to melt from your bones, but only you can see it.
There are lots of questions to ask. Wondering, hope. Why?
But he beats you to it. It seems you’ll have to get used to that characteristic.
“Go to sleep. Nothing can get you here.”
A lie, you know it well. Any second that monster can stumble here. Smell you, turn the perfect corner to find the bus, sheen shimmering beneath a full moon. Ravage each and every one of you beneath claws and blood.
But the letter, no, Minho says you’ll be safe here. That Hellion Inn will be your safe haven. 
Tonight, you choose to believe that, falling asleep with his pinky twined with yours, his back to one of the side booths, focus trained on your features.
Safe.
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“Hnn..” 
Insistent poking to your cheek abducts you from your dream, bleary eyes straining to open. Jeongin sits up, bracing himself with his hands, youthful smile stretched over his face watching you. Meanwhile, the hellspawn guilty, Hyunjin, can’t help but laugh cheerily.
“Wah— I wish I had a camera!” Ebony strands peek from beneath a white ball cap, his voice carries from the bus for Felix’s head to peek in, echoing Hyunjin’s laugh with his deeper baritone.
Similar to Chris are you met with Felix’s kindness, his lithe form slipping past the bus doors to gently smooth back your bed hair, utilizing a hair tie on his wrist to bind the unruly strands before patting your head.
It’s easy to ache for anyone’s touch, you discover.
In the early morning, the car was retrieved by Minho, Chris, Jeongin, and Changbin, the low chatter of voices outside evidence of their progress restoring the once flipped vehicle.
When you step out, Changbin hands you a tin of steaming soup as meager breakfast you’re quick to thank him for, bringing the spoon to your lips whilst lingering near the car, watching them flit about, handing each other tools and screws alike like busied ants.
“You just gonna stand there or help out? Last time I checked you weren’t worried about appearances.”
Instantaneously, Minho becomes his normal, annoying self with each snidely sarcastic remark, cocked brows urging you to retaliate.
Unfortunately, your barely conscious mind can’t formulate something smart back, so you resort to serving as the tool-supplier, handing different ones here and there from a stool near where the Man of Fire works on the popped wheel.
His new title, apparently.
Man of Fire.
“Wrench.”
“Did you just call me a wench?” You scoff, eyes wide with shock at the murmured comment. 
Perhaps you were blindsided after all by his nice face.
“Wrench.”
Or not.
Begrudgingly, you extend the wrench, scowl embedded in your expression he can’t help but crack a bemused grin at.
Attaching the wrench to a bolt to crank does his vein-littered forearms flex, and your throat feels unnaturally dry, forcing yourself to focus on something else in order to school an unaffected facade.
Nevertheless, by night, he’s.. different. Lacking cockiness, harshness.
Unspoken things, like when you’re stirred from sleep, dazed gaze settling on Minho across the bus, his fingers tenderly patting Changbin’s head when he stirs awake. They speak in hushed whispers alternative to Changbin’s boisterous presence. 
And sometimes, amidst the other seven, you’re the one beneath his comforting hand. Those times nightmares plague your sleep, his careful hands tracing your knuckles, slow circles over your skin urging you back into the solace of sleep.
To you he doesn’t talk, just hums a low melody, wipes unshed tears from your waterline. Seeing his face makes you want to cry more, so you can be scooped into his hug.
Though, you doubt you’d ever let go, so you never allow yourself more tears. Maybe that’s for the better.
Because while you’re so selfishly enamored as night falls and he becomes that doting figurine bathed in moonlight, Minho is endlessly selfless. Wordless, but selfless.
The guardian of the night, sustaining a semblance of care and safety that silently engulfs the bus each time a star twinkles within the sky.
Then again, risks are always present. Missions out for food, stashing of possessions in case of invasion.
Windows of the bus covered, the group convenes that evening, leant over a book on the floor, huddled with knees held close to chests. Sharing things of value, adding more.
An old journal, spine tattered and moth-eaten. Inside looks to hold the secrets of the world, hidden within yellowed pages, hurried writing of smudged ink.
All of it, from the Monster’s mannerisms, exterior, presumed weaknesses. Written, documented. How such information was gathered is beyond you. Intricate, detailed.
Study after study, page after page. 
In two days, you’re arranged to head out with Chris for a medical restock. The pharmacy isn’t too far from the Inn, and it’ll only be a few hours of collecting before returning back.
The morning of, Seungmin hands you his shotgun, and Chris takes Minho’s—the Man of Fires’—nail-wielding boxing gloves. Two backpacks, one goal.
Fortunately, the journey isn’t too grueling, filled with quiet conversation and query till barely divisible characters reading ‘PHARMACY’ come into view, slipping into the hollowed, whitened confines of a once thriving business.
Eerie, with medication strung awry, unknown blood splattered along a wall behind the register.
It’s almost funny how the money there goes untouched. What use is it now?
Captured within your peripheral does a door become of topic, shielded behind a hanging towel in the far corner of the pharmacy that you slowly pad over to inspect, fingers tentative in nudging to the side. 
Though, it’s the sudden flick of lights, electricity, that makes you gasp, flashlight of little necessity as you part double doors.
The sight makes your heart stop.
Because beneath the disguise of a pharmacy rests a drug-den, a laboratory, first and foremost.
“Uh.. Does Seungmin have this in his journal..?” 
Building long since redlined by the look of it, Chris is quick to join your side, muttering an awestruck: “Holy shit” you would’ve laughed at if it weren’t for your combined surprise. 
Though, he places an arm in front of you as your foot moves to step inside, instead advising the muzzle of your shotgun to lead you, clearing the area before feasting on this monstrosity.
Countless test tubes litter every surface in sight, but it isn’t mixtures, isn’t a combo of products.
It’s insects, piled with them.
Many deformed in gruesome ways, trapped inside the tubes. Chris, hastily pulling an old camera from his bag, snaps photos, the shutter’s sound echoing around the room.
Yet, you can’t help but notice a near uncanny resemblance.
Incisors, bulging eyes, like the Monster.
No, it wouldn’t be. A mega ant? No, that thing is far from solely ant with its hulking size.
“Don’t you think this is just.. odd? I mean, they’re already up to their noses in cash from the drugs, I’m sure, so why the.. ants?” 
Chris exhales slowly through his nose, shaking his head.
“My guess is as good as yours. And calling it a ‘guilty pleasure’ just makes me nauseous, I mean look at them, they’re.. infected.”
Fungal growth is clear as day, that’s agreed. The true question rests in reason.
Just what were they doing here?
The longer you linger, the more unsettling it becomes.
Because somehow, your gut can’t shake that resemblance to the Monster.
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Your walk back to the bus is quiet, shrouded in nerves and a wanting for familiarity. Safe to say you both sigh in relief seeing that silvery, unmoving vehicle.
It’s almost comical how the uneasiness spreads, like whatever fungus altered the insects, contorting them in disfigured shapes, features. Overtaking the nine of you similarly.
Merely thinking about it gives you chills, Chris’s description, as you’re coddled into the bus with the others to explain, doing little for the vomit tempting your throat.
Effortlessly, your same silence washes over the others, paled as they acknowledge the identical resemblance you’d conjured before.
“You don’t think..” You’re feeble in attempting to disprove the suspicions, trembling of your fingers stilled only when Minho’s index traces your wrist. 
Though, it isn’t night, and the look he grants you makes you wish for his touch even more.
Assurance, worn within the grooves of his face, repetitive stroke of his fingertip over a hammering pulse.
“I do think, show me the picture again.” Seungmin beckons, hurriedly flipping through his own notebook as he narrows his eyes on the photo Chris shows. 
Seungmin, you learned, used to be an entomology major in Seoul’s most prestigious university. Studious, with a bright future nearing.
Interesting how easy those aspirations can crumble apart within a day, within seconds.
But there’s no purpose in reminiscing, is there?
Now resorting to gathered notes of the past, he finally stops at a page, finger glued to the scribbled notes. His other hand reaches to the photo, pointing to a tiny label taped to a test tube halfway outside the frame, writing messy and uneven, barely legible against the blur of the camera.
Ophiocordyceps unilateralism, or, in easier terms, zombie-ant fungus. 
Thanks to Seungmin’s insight, his knowledge dictates the occurrence as “a fungus capable of infecting the mind of its host while simultaneously altering its body.”
So, in a horror-movie-esque, freakish way, a parasite. 
Jeongin pipes up, and you swear at least four of you flinch at the sudden sound of a voice against leaden silence.
“But the Monster’s too big to be an ant, right? How could the—“ 
“What if it wasn’t an ant, but another animal? A bigger animal. Some scientific breakthrough where the host was able to be taken over, not by an ant, but by something bigger.” 
The entirety remains consumed in a stillness, taking in the revelation they’ve just come to. 
Fear is almost palpable. Nearly able to be tasted, smelt. 
Han’s leg bounces anxiously, dirty fingernails reaching to claw at his hair, tearing at his scalp with visible shuddering Chris’s warm palm hopes to ease, placed on his shoulder.
“We’re being hunted by a parasite.” He croaks hoarsely in disbelief, tone pathetically cracking in terror. 
A parasite, yes. This, however, is different. 
The monster lurking through Seoul was planned, arranged accordingly under the guise of law and human greed for motive unknown.
A lone pharmacy, meant to cater to human health, now manufacturerers of human destruction.
This parasite is man-made. 
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Your spirit could’ve been staunched easily, dampened by the weight of discovery. Grown unwilling to fight anymore, unwilling to try surviving.
Who are we if not going for each other's throats? Why must someone’s greed become everyone else’s problem?
Something so selfish, so horrid it grew out of control, festering like a seed of hatred in one’s heart till spiky leaves and branches poured from their lungs and suffocated them.
For a moment do you entertain the doubts, the scornful attitude over the boiled egg in hand. An early breakfast the day after the realization, with the nine of you seated along the bus’s roof, legs swinging off the side while watching the sunrise. 
You feel like the only people in the world. 
And a bit longer seeing shades of orange and crisp blue bleed across the sky does it feel like it’s all worth living for once again.
So instead, you adapt.
Jotting down more details about the fungus, figuring out ways to combat it. Continual stocking of food, the usual.
Fixing things, keeping up with communication. Laughter and smiling, momentary glances to that Man-of-Fire making you clam up, just like before.
At least that was predictable. 
A continual gas lamp, those same quiet visits of his within the night. And, more often than not, you’d find Minho’s pinkie linking with yours while he slept, without a nightmare or sleepless night as explanation. 
In the mornings, you’d pretend like it never happened. Go back to cat and mouse, square one.
Hold my hand, but keep quiet. 
I don’t want you to leave.
Plenty of things echo through your mind as dawn arises, when your lids twitch and disoriented eyes flutter open to find him beside you, peacefully asleep.
Most days, he’s gone by dawn, somewhere across the bus sleeping, leaving your groggy mind to configure his touch as a mere dream.
No matter the awe, your body betrays such an occasion, and you fall right back to sleep again hoping he could read your mind, keep that contact beneath the blanket.
Unbeknownst to you, the moment your eyes close, his eyes open.
But you’re already asleep when a gentle index traces your cheek, his lips parting with a slow breath. 
“Pretty,” Is whispered, failing to echo around the bus in its hushed volume, a pinch of normality within the chirping of birds, the breach of an emerging day peering over sparse clouds.
“Hm?” 
He wasn’t anticipating your response, breath catching in his throat.
“Hi Minho,” You murmur gently, greeting his surprised disposition as your lips wind into a tiny smile. 
Involuntary. Lips quirking upwards the longer you hold eye-contact.
And surprisingly, Minho cracks a smile too.
It’s feeble, barely divisible apart from the twitch of his lips. Your thumb traces the crinkle, too sleepy to speak, too comfortable to act. 
“Hi there.”
His hand returns your touch, finding your cheek to rest on, savoring the feeling of your skin on his, his on yours.
Stay here, don’t go.
I don’t want to be left alone again.
His brisk glance at your lips has your nerves buzzing beneath such a gaze.
Knowing, obliging.
Obliging as his head tips, as yours complies. Capable of fitting like the perfect puzzle as—
Seungmin mumbles something unintelligible in his sleep, and it’s all a dream once more how Minho slips from your hands as if he was never there in the first place.
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Three and a half months at Hellion Inn passes in a flash. Research on combatants to the zombie-ant fungus prevalent, plenty of days spent crowded in the bus, throwing around possibilities and idyll conversation. 
Monster sightings have become sparse, with the vast majority of reports informing of its scavenging of the city’s copious bodies.
A sense of relief until it runs out of flesh and craves more, which is where your apocalypse began all over.
Starting with that same, chillingly bellowed chuff at least half a mile out from Hellion Inn.
You don’t think you’d ever seen the eight of them move so quickly. Gas lamp extinguished, weapons cocked and loaded with ammunition ready to fire. Minho’s studded boxing gloves, Seungmin’s shotgun, Chris’s dual pistols. Plentiful traps arranged about the bus, ones you never anticipated having to utilize up till tonight.
How foolish you were.
However, the bus’s roof isn’t caved in by a claw, the nine of you intact for the remainder of the restless night, void of any more sound from the Monster. 
Then again, the torment is far from yielding, with those same, restless nights becoming avidly frequent, Minho’s soothing capabilities tested as a nightmare per week triples in number.
In those times, you find comfort in each other, comfort in bodies snuggled together, in shared pain and happiness. In as much comfort support allows in the thick of a never-ending hailstorm. 
As for you, you find that longing has folded itself into squares of eighteen from a once meager eight. Folded over and over that, the greater the paper grows with each parted fold, the greater that longing burns. 
Burns, like the smoke billowing from a fire outside.
Location of the slow-to-set sun leads you to believe it’s around 3pm, your figure slumped to the floor of the bus.
Though, the missing factor rests in a lack of eight others who currently occupy the fire outside for dinner.
Yesterday, you and Jeongin took on a water restock, roaming about what seemed to be innumerable miles to repeat the walk with heavy packs of water all the way back, currently the cause of your exhaustion as you sleep into the evening the day after.
If only the sleep was peaceful, refreshing.
It’s not.
Well, it was. But not for long.
A shower, according to the flickering of your consciousness as you dream. Warm water droplets pattering on the tile floor underfoot, cleansing grime from your skin. Electricity.
And somehow, a peculiar name leaves your lips upon seeing a shadow behind the shower curtain.
“Minho.”
The sound of your voice is light in this dream. Awaiting, familiar. 
Yet, the pit in your stomach grows, unnaturally.
You find the cause when pulling back the shower curtain, that same, leering smile of the Monster staring back at you as it lunges.
Not Minho.
Your vision goes black, only able to hear the ringing screech of your scream, the heat of the shower now putrid metallic. Blood, replacing the water.
It fills your senses, suffocating you slowly but surely. Overflowing from your nose, your eyes, till you cry crimson.
A sharp twitch of your hand jars you awake.
You’re not bleeding, not in a shower, no Monster in sight. Although, you’d be lying to yourself to say you can just forget it all, act like nothing’s the matter.
More so when you see Minho—recalling his name uttered so sweetly in your dream—standing at the bus’s doorway, seemingly a witness to your horrors as he closes the door behind himself.
Ah. 
No, don’t look at me right now with that doting gaze, as if I’m something to be cared for, something delicate. 
For once I wish you away, so I don’t begin to cry, so my love for you doesn’t become my ruin.
“And it was- it was right in front of me and—“
He sees through you each time, through the toughened exterior, the shake of your head when he asks if you need anything, want to talk about it. 
He came in for an extra blanket, apparently. One long forgotten by now.
Spill your guts, but when it comes to him, you find your heart spilling with it. Words caught in a hyperventilating daze, your hands flail, eyes struck permanently bulging.
At some point, everyone starts to break. No time table to give you an estimate, forewarning.
It just bubbles until bursting.
“I don’t… I don’t want to do this anymore..” Voice a desperate plea, sobs wrack your body numb.  “Why can’t…” You begin, eyes flitting to Minho.
“Why can’t we all just die together?”
Heaved between sharp inhales is your face taken between calloused hands, his brows knitted.
“Cause who’s going to take our place? Who else is alive?” He whispers, kneeled upon the floor, staring at you nonsensically.
“This once, let me be selfish. I won’t let you die. You can’t die because I want you alive. Do you understand?” 
Slow to nod, bleary vision situates upon the man, cursing the dip to your usually strong tone — cracking, weakened.
“Can… Can I just.. forget?” 
His eyes flit to your lips if only for an instant, like that time a month ago, stolen. 
And for a moment, you think he may have just read your mind.
“Minho, please… I want to-“
Ah.
And he kisses you, and then, no, more. More and more, till you’re tangled up in sprawled blankets and sleeping bags. Smoke tainting the air from outside, calves dangling from his shoulders, toes curled. 
Minho makes you forget, forget and forget, leaving you to helplessly utter his name past chapped lips — till another round turns into what feels to be a lifetime. 
Your palms pressing to his jaw like a plea, head tossing back once more with a sound purely guttural. 
It’s sloppy, it’s clumsy. Sweat-stuck kisses to sweat-stuck skin. Nails digging into already moth-eaten clothing, his lips permanently pressed to your pulse, hammering and hammering in a wordless incantation of bliss. 
And yet, no amount of greedy, mindless sex, no amount of his doting kisses, his careful assurances, praises, can deter your mind from a reality unavoidable.
There’s no euphoria, no recovery your skin can even acknowledge as he flops to your side, both out of breath.
“.. Am I selfish for a pleasure I can’t even enjoy?” 
Silence breached, your eyes flutter closed, an involuntary tear slipping down your cheek where you lay upon the bunched sleeping bag.
This had been a dream, to be burned by the Man of Fire. Allowing his kiss to brand you, his touch searing every ounce of skin raw.
Little did you know you’d already scorched it all yourself.
Cruel. Irrevocably cruel.
Not even clarity grants your senses, emotion muddled between undergarments feeling too tight and grimy and the lack of fresh air rendering sticky bodies into a cold sweat.  
From beside you, his hand extends to your cheek, thumbing away the salty droplet with a weary smile.
“There is no selfishness, just… grasping onto what’s left. You’re not selfish for taking what you can get, not when everything is being taken from you.”
Hellion Inn was not your safety, it was the one gazing at you, the seven others outside. 
This is only a house, Minho is your home.
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Fifth month arising, a conclusion is met. Amongst not-so-helpful input, bickering, and plenty of runs to libraries to gather more books on Ophiocordyceps unilateralism for a very studious Seungmin, he presents a possibility, an option.
Of its known enemies, the zombie-ant fungus doesn’t have many. There was the initial hypothesis on ways ants protect from the parasite, but with the Monster already infected, those methods were out of the question.
Then came the breakthrough.
Torrubiellomyces zombiae, or T.Z. An additional, fanciful word for a more powerful parasite. A Hyperparasitic fungi, zombie-ant fungus’ predator.
Create an ultimate beast without known opponents? Simply double the size, the power.
That’s where T.Z arrived, the species a core option for the Monster’s destruction. Get the spores on the Monster’s skin, and stay alive until it takes over and stabilizes the fungus’ infection.
Much easier said than done, which left room for the organized members of the group separating steps into phases.
Phase one focuses on collection of the spores. Extra photos Chris took that first encounter in the pharmacy unveiled the likely presence of the desired spores, which Felix, Hyunjin, and Seungmin have been elected to collect as Team C.
Phase two regards locating the Monster, introducing the presence of a harpoon gun (an idea Han loved (for the sole reason of fooling around with the harpoon gun)).
The point of the harpoon will be coated in collected spores, teams of three with three members each (A, B, and C) dispersed throughout the surrounding area the monster before Team A shoots.
And of course, courtesy of Han’s mention on what phase three should be: 
Run like hell. 
Phase two enacting in exactly a week, Hellion Inn spends its days in preparation, plaguing each breathing moment with gathering necessities and ensuring utilities are present.  
Between those lines comes the lividity.
Kisses in the night, his kisses. The shared cockiness, incessant teasing when the others are around as original as it comes despite such tenderness in private.
Your souls bared, secrets spoken into the air for only your ears to hear.
While the others sleep, you love till your heart hurts, watching him fall asleep against your palm where he’d kissed each of your fingertips minutes prior.
“I love you,” He whispers one night, his nose buried into your cheek with a heavy sigh. 
There’s not a single doubt within your mind, a hesitation, a hint of surprise.
Plenty of times it’s been said without words, repeated in the peck he presses to your skin.
“I love you too.”
And you repeat the words in a kiss to his lips. Slow, careful.
Savor. As if it were your last.
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Dark clouds wrinkle your vision, spitting rain nothing short of irritating as you, Han, and Minho slip through cluttered underbrush.
Gathering of the spores had been successful by Team C according to the flare gun’s signal, and Team A—consisting of Changbin, Jeongin and Chris—tracked the location of the monster. 
Itaewon hasn't changed apart from the lack of bodies, assumed to be the Monster’s doing. Debris prominent, scavenging animals littering the streets without the usual congestion of people.
When the second flare blooms into shaded sky, that’ll be the indication the last stage: shooting the monster, is underway. For now, the three of you wait, listening in as hurried footsteps of Team C come thundering towards you.
Seungmin offers the vial, Minho lifting the harpoon gun to plunge into what appears to be an oddly shaped mushroom, your arm already lifted to the sky to fire Team B’s own flare gun.
Half way. Not done yet.
Now for Phase three, but, prior to the “run like hell” notion.
Jeongin is the retriever of the harpoon gun, angling through side streets past a lingering monster in the center to deliver the catalyst.
Almost there, almost–
His foot clashing against the metal of an alleyway trash-can disrupts that peace, and synonymously do you feel all breath held.
Chris was supposed to deliver the shot. Jeongin was supposed to make it to Team A unnoticed.
The world seems to grow mute, Han’s wrenching scream from beside you fallen upon deaf ears as the Monster’s gaping jaws beeline for Jeongin, claws extended, the boy kneeling to the ground.
Then, a ping! resounds, and your eyes are slow to open in fear his mutilated body would sit there, bright eyes lifeless.
It’s almost slow motion seeing it. Centimeters from Jeongin’s face does a palm outstretch, twice the size of his head, fingers twitching as if frozen in space.
Then you see it.
In the middle of that palm, the mere edge of the harpoon—only able to get halfway from its sheath—embeds.
Cavernous jaws of the creature part, incisors poised as if disbelieving of the matter itself. Disbelieving of the parasite taking over, altering its blood stream. 
Wilt.
White, almost decaying in the manner the alternate fungi destroys the weaker one, its muscles failing, body freezing.
You half anticipated the creature to at least try fighting in the meantime, land one last swipe. 
But the more time ticking past as you lean forward disproves any chance of movement, able to physically see the blood cells permeating the creature ashen, once curved claws diminishing simultaneously like that of crumbling embers.
Just then does Hyunjin’s voice breach your focus, curdled in urgency. It’s his cry that beckons Jeongin back to his feet, racing back after the others, tip of the harpoon still wedged within the Monster’s palm.
Oddly enough, as you watch the last of it dust into the wind as if melting, it doesn't feel real.
Too simple, uncanny. As if millions hadn’t extinguished in its horrid maw—a single parasite killing off the apocalypse bringer as easy as that.
Yet, it wasn’t easy at all.
Testing every last ounce of your wish for life, wish for a reality snatched from not just you, but eight others’ fingertips.
It was taxing. Surviving, experiencing the start of new love you didn’t think could sprout among a wintery wasteland included. 
But it did sprout, and the way you’re the first person Minho’s eyes drift to speaks that loud and clear.
Twin blossoms of the most brilliant colors, growing brighter the nearer they are. 
Closer than love, truly. 
We made it.
The Monster is gone.
There isn’t a word spoken as you make back for Hellion Inn, make back for home. The crunch of footsteps along gravel rings in your eardrums, breath exhaled from parted lips, matted, grease-ridden hair the least of your concern. No joyous shouting, no celebratory behavior in the slightest.
What is there to celebrate anyway? So many lives lost, too many to mourn.
Progression of your footsteps carries each soul with it, allowing them a final sleep in their eternal resting place.
Sleep well, Seoul. 
“It’s all over.” 
Whispered amidst roaring flames, you can only stare at the pharmacy as fiery flickers—vials, chemicals, ants included–swallow whatever has been left, torching hell’s origin once and for all.
One last stop. One last goodbye to all that was, the last chapter.
Without a word, Minho’s pinky links with your own.
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sunboki, may 2022 ©
FIC TAGLIST. @linocvp1d
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xxchumanixx · 1 day ago
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Glimpses
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Bucky Barnes x reader
Warnings/Tags: fluff, angst, Bucky (yes, he's a warning), reader has the ability to show other people images in their head (does that make sense?), otherwise not described, spoilers for fatws
Word count: tba
Authors note: To be honest, I've been working on this for months, bit by bit. I didn't have much time to write or post something lately, and somehow, the motivation went with it. But I love this man to no end, and I had to finish this (for my sake, too). Im not a hundred percent happy with it, but we're just gonna roll with it.
I hope you enjoy it.
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It gnawed at you, gripping you with a hand made of iron, it's icy fingers sending chills down your spine.
How could she do this to you?
Someone you once envied for being related to Peggy Carter, one of the founders of SHIELD, maybe one of the coolest persons to have ever existed.
Now, you couldn't help but pity Sharon Carter.
Sam nudged your foot with his, ripping you out of your thoughts. "What's up with you?" he wanted to know, brows furrowed.
Blinking at him, you tried to grasp what he was talking about, before shaking your head with a sigh.
"When Sharon was pardoned, I heard her say something I don't know what to think of..." you mumbled, biting your cheek. Sam rose a brow in return, Bucky's furrowing.
You were sitting in a private jet, a small table in front of you, with Sam sitting diagonally to your right and Bucky to your left.
"When she came out, she dialed someone, saying something about super soldiers being off the menu, weapons and 'should be something for everyone'." you recited what you had heard her say.
You had been there to congratulate her, welcome her back. But, when she stepped out the building, immediately dialing someone, you hid back in the crowd, carefully listening.
Yeah, eavesdropping wasn't nice, but something urged you to do it.
And you had been right.
"Nah," Sam made, shaking his head with a chuckle. "You must have misheard her."
Licking your lip, you shook your own head. "No, I know what I've heard."
Sam's brows furrowed, eyes trained on you. "Y/N, I'm sure you just misheard her." he repeated his words softer.
Eyes widening, your mouth was agape. "Sam-" you started, but he cut you off. "No, Y/N-" "Sam!" with a yell of his name and a slam of your hand on the table, you locked eyes, letting your power whir to life.
You could see your own eyes change color in his iris, energy flowing through you, as you forced him to see what you've seen.
Sharon left the building with a smile on her face, radiating confidence. Pulling out her phone she dialed a number, slowly walking further down the steps.
"Start lining up our buyers." she spoke into the phone, seemingly not caring enough to watch her surroundings for anyone listening. "Super Soldiers might be off the menu, but we're about to have full access to government secrets, prototype weapons, you name it. Should be something for everyone."
With that, she left, leaving you speechless.
With a gasp, you let go of Sam's mind, rapidly blinking to get the dry feeling out of your eyes.
Sam stared onto the table, swallowing. His hands trembled slightly, whilst Bucky grew impatient.
"Can I see?" he wanted to know, eagerly leaning forward in his seat. It made you chuckle, despite the dread in your stomach.
Letting Bucky enter your mind, was something different.
You weren't able to control your powers a hundred percent, which would be a risk, when letting someone in. There could be emotions or flashes of memories that could seep through, something you didn't want.
Especially not with him.
You had been in love with him for a while now, but never dared to make a move on it. Not, when he was so far out of your league.
Swallowing, you nodded hesitantly.
Locking eyes with Bucky's blue ones, you let your power come to life again, heart pounding faster.
You showed him the same thing you showed Sam, trying your hardest to concentrate only on the memory of Sharon, nothing else.
Slipping back out of it, you blinked rapidly, whilst Bucky sat frozen in his chair.
Shaking your head, you felt it deep in your chest, slowly making its way up - luckily for you, you had cut the connection already.
It was a memory you cherished deep in your heart, one of your favorites. It was Bucky, smiling happily.
Most of the time his smile didn't reach his eyes, not like it should have. He wasn't as carefree, at least not until he teamed up with Sam.
He was lying on the sofa in Sarah's house, Sam's sister. The kids had been playing with the shield, whilst Bucky was still sleeping on the couch.
You had been sitting at the small coffee table, able to see him, but he wouldn't see you at first glance.
When he woke up, softly calling out to the kids with a smile and a peace, they panicked, putting the shield back into its bag.
It had you smiling into your mug, quietly chuckling, as you sipped your coffee.
His smile was real, beautiful and rare. His eyes sparkled with joy, sunlight catching in them, highlighting the blue of his iris, as he leaned back into the cushions.
It showed the Bucky he was back in the forties, slowly peeling away layer after layer of his hardened shell.
Closing your eyes, you willed the memory away, slowly shaking your head, to get rid of it.
When your eyes opened again, looking back up at Bucky and Sam, Bucky's eyes were glued to your face.
His brows were furrowed, deep in thought. His mouth opened the slightest bit, but it closed again, like a fish.
Your own eyes widened the slightest bit, belly churning, as you realized.
The faint line connecting your minds - it was still there.
Your breathing fastened, fist clenching, as you looked at Sam, trying to come up with something to pull him into a conversation - but your mind was as blank as a wall.
Seriously, now you were able to think of nothing?
Your hands began to sweat, as you tried your hardest not to burst into tears. It was exactly what you had feared to happen, not being able to control it.
Mostly the reason you never really let Bucky enter your mind, fearing what he might find.
"Do you think-" Sam started, but cut himself off with a shake of his head. "That she's the power broker?" you returned, eager to flee into this conversation, but it was over just as fast as it had begun. "Yeah."
Bucky didn't say anything, eyes fixed on his hands that were seated in his lap.
Sam sighed, one hand swiping over his face. He was tired, you could tell. Being the new Captain America wasn't easy.
"Excuse me." you mumbled, standing up, before heading out of the room and towards the bathroom, where you locked yourself in.
You choked on a breath, fighting the tears, but soon losing. How could you be so careless? You should have known it wouldn't end well, letting him enter your mind.
But it would have been suspicious not to show him, either.
You could only hope you'd get out of this unscathed.
_____
Sam cleared his throat in discomfort, fist clenching on the table.
If he hadn't known your memories were true, he would have brushed it off with a laugh. He'd worked with Sharon before, and she never seemed like someone who would turn on her own people.
How long, til she would turn on them?
Eyes lifting, they met the side of Bucky's face. He was quiet, more than usual.
"How can she do this to us, after all we went through?" Sam asked in a mumble, ripping Bucky from his thoughts with a "Huh?".
Brows furrowing, Sam tried to analyze the man he didn't want to call friend, even though he'd become exactly that over the past few weeks.
"What's up with you?" he asked, frown deepening. Sure, Bucky had his moments where his thoughts drifted off, but not like this.
Not when you just basically fled a minute ago.
Bucky shook his head, trying to clear his mind. "I don't know." he gave back, forehead wrinkling in thought.
Hell, if he could only make sense of what he'd seen.
"What happened?" Sam dug deeper, having noticed how long you two had been silent when showing him what you'd seen.
It took longer than he thought needed to.
Bucky wiped over his face.
It was like he switched bodies with you when that memory of yours slipped through. He could feel everything.
Every little emotion.
"I-" Bucky was searching for the right words as he suddenly stood. "Excuse me."
He followed into the direction you'd taken off to, causing Sam to frown even more.
He stopped in front of the bathroom door, softly knocking before the courage could have left him.
"Y/N?" he called out, heart beating unsteady. "Can we please talk?"
You flinched, perched on the toilet seat as you desperately wiped at your face. "Why?" you called out, giving your very best to sound neutral.
You could hear him hesitate, the little sounds that left his mouth that he himself didn't even notice. "Please?" he then just asked, fingers drumming on the door.
You hesitated as well, not sure if you should open the door to face your imminent death of shame.
With a heavy sigh you got up, though, shaky fingers fumbling for the lock, taking a moment longer to unlock it before it was pushed open by Bucky merging into the small bathroom, cramping the space even more.
You stumbled back, colliding with the sink.
"What was that?" Bucky wanted to know, eyes on yours, searching them for anything that gave him an answer. "What?" you gave back, deciding to act dumb.
Maybe he wouldn't notice.
Of course he would, you idiot.
His brows furrowed, a look of confusion and bewilderment crossing his features. "You know exactly what I mean, don't play dumb now, Y/N!" he shot back, not amused.
See?
Told you so.
You swallowed the lump that somehow didn't want to budge, blocking your airways. "I- I don't know." you stuttered out, mentally cursing yourself for being so reckless to let him enter your mind in the first place.
Bucky frowned even more, not sure whether to believe you or not. After all he had felt it, not sure if he really wanted to know, though.
He didn't dare to hope.
You inhaled shakily, trying to force your heart rate down, to calm yourself a little.
Easier said than done.
"Are you sure you don't know?" Bucky pressed, voice tinged with something you couldn't place. "Because I'm sure I didn't imagine what I've seen or felt."
You flinched at that.
He knew, he knew for fucks sake, and there was no way you could have made him believe that it was nothing.
To be fair, you wouldn't have believed yourself, either.
No one would feel immense happiness, content, and warmth just because of a person they saw as a friend.
Come on.
You swallowed, averting your gaze. There was no backing out now, not when Bucky literally blocked the exit with his presence and muscular body.
"You- you felt it." you mumbled, biting your cheek as your cheeks warmed up slightly, gaze glued to the floor.
Bucky huffed, searching for words for a moment. How was he to explain what he felt?
"It- it was like I was back in the forties." he began, licking his lips. "I felt content, happy. And then I saw this... this memory of yours from me. I didn't know you were there, I didn't see you. What does this mean?"
He sounded desperate, and you didn't know whether it was because he didn't want your feelings for him or if it was the exact opposite.
Your name fell from his parted lips when you didn't answer, and had you looked up into his cerulean eyes, you'd seen the desperation, too.
"I can't tell you." you eventually mumbled, biting your cheek raw. "What? Why?" Bucky gave back, eyes widening before he frowned. "Y/N, what does this mean? Please, tell me!"
You looked up at him, your own brows furrowed in a frown.
Why did he want to know so badly?
"You know what it means." you gave back, doing your best not to avoid his gaze this time. His lips parted a fraction before he shook his head. "No." he said. "I want you to say it."
You heart stumbled once more, threatening to burst from the pace it was going at.
Did he want to have something to laugh about? Did he want to make a fool of you?
Swallowing, you shook your head. "No." you breathed out. "I can't."
His gaze hardened slightly, blue irises growing darker. "Say it." he repeated himself, not going to back down.
He'd rather go back to HYDRA than let this opportunity, this chance pass.
Your eyes widened, and you shook your head again. But before you had the chance to decline once more, he said it again, this time louder. "Say it!"
"I have feelings for you!" you blurted out loudly, his agitation causing you to crack and slip up.
Suddenly, the room grew eerily silent, the ringing in your ears blocking out his harsh breathing. His heart was racing way too fast for a man his age, and he forgot how to breathe for a moment.
He had hoped to hear these words, after all they were the only logical explanation, yet he was speechless. Didn't know how to react.
It's never like it is in your dreams.
Especially not when a dream suddenly comes true.
You shrinked back mentally and physically, his lack of response unsettling. It made you more nervous than you already were, hands sweating as you desperately tried to keep your shit together.
Why didn't he say anything?
When you wanted to push past him, and out of the small bathroom, his metal hand wrapped around your wrist. Your sudden movement had broken him out of his stupor, and he simply couldn't just let you go.
Before you knew it, he had tugged you back in front of him, his lips pressing against yours in a searing kiss.
It wasn't gentle, it was hard and rushed, as he tried to somehow tell you what his vocal cords weren't able to at the moment.
You gasped for air, not prepared for being hauled back and kissed breathless like that.
Bucky greedily took the invitation that wasn't one, his tongue pushing inside your mouth, exploring it before it tangled with yours. Your arms wrapped around his neck, his own around your waist as he tugged you closer.
You tasted sweeter than anything he'd ever tasted in his life.
Gasping for breath he let go of your mouth, eyes closed as he leaned his forehead against yours.
"Don't go." he breathed out shakily, arms wrapping tighter around you like he was scared you'd suddenly vanish if he let go. "Please. There's so much I need to tell you. So please, don't go. I need you, Y/N."
You watched his lashes flutter as he inhaled shakily before his eyes opened. His words had your heart beating faster again, leaving you wanting more.
"What? B-Bucky-" you started, confused because you were so sure he'd reject you.
"No." he cut you off, holding your face in his hands. "I love you."
There it was, out in the open. His most vulnerable moment since HYDRA and he delved into it headfirst. "You have no clue how much I love you, how much these words and these... glimpses mean to me, doll."
You inhaled shakily, every emotion rushing through you at once.
"I just never thought you'd feel the same, deem me worthy of someone as angelic as you."
Your heart ached at his self-deprecating words.
"Bucky," you breathed out his name, shaking your head in his grip. "You're far more worthy than you think you are. You deserve everything good and more."
He grimaced slightly, still not used to being a normal human again. "That's an argument for another time." he said, sending you a crooked smile.
He didn't want to fight right now, not when he much rather wanted to pepper your skin with kisses. And that he did. He kissed everywhere he reached, ignoring your giggles of protest before his lips met yours, silencing you.
It was a feeling that quickly got you addicted.
After a few moments, you broke the kiss, and he placed your head on his chest, inahling your familiar scent.
"Was it intenional?" Bucky wanted to know after a few moments of savoring your warmth, arms circled around you.
It felt really good to hold you like that.
You grimaced slightly. "No, of course not." you gave back. "I can't always control it. Besides, I never thought you'd want me."
"Why?" he asked, confusion lacing his voice as he pulled back slightly to look down at you. "Because I'm weird." you explained, blushing as you averted your gaze. Bucky huffed, using his finger to tilt your chin back up, forcing you to meet his gaze. "Baby, weird is my second name." he gave back softly. "Maybe I need a little extra weird."
You wanted to respond something, how you would love to be his extra portion weird, as it suddenly knocked on the door loudly.
"Hurry up, I need to pee!"
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Tag List:
@ava @sapphirebarnes @skywalker0809 @freyathehuntress @queenslandlover-93 @judig92
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taintedtort · 2 days ago
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"Kyotani!"
your voice rings through the gym, stopping the conversation that Seijoh‘s team was having. said boy turns his head to look at you, a scowl pulling on his lips when you shouted his name like that in front of everyone. he can’t be too mad though, not when you’re waving so enthusiastically, obviously happy to see him.
he grumbles something under his breath before breaking apart from the group to walk over to you, ignoring the gazes of his nosey teammates. they’ve never seen you before, and he certainly hasn’t said anything about you. they’d definitely remember if the Mad Dog had mentioned someone, especially someone as attractive as you.
in reality, you two have been dating for a few months now, though you’re keeping it quiet. he doesn’t necessarily mind anyone knowing, he just hasn’t specifically told his team because he doesn’t want them teasing him about it.
when he reaches you, he grunts in greeting, and you smile as you extend his jacket he lent to you the other day.
"here, i washed it," you chirp, looking much too nice to be talking to someone like Kyotani. he shakes his head at your offer though, waving off the jacket.
"keep it, i never wear it anyway," he grumbles, keeping his voice low so his teammates don’t overhear. his words make you smile though, and you nod eagerly, holding the clothing to your chest.
he can hear his teammates whispering amongst themselves, trying to guess the relationship between the two of you and how you know him. it irks him, and he’s trying his best not to just drag you off somewhere a bit more private to talk to you. he knows that would only make them even more curious though, so he’s stuck standing a respectable distance away from you while listening to his teammates gossip.
"do you wanna walk home together?"
your voice brings his attention back to you, his ears drowning them out as he listens to your sweet request. practice is nearly over anyway, and he knows you were probably waiting for him in the first place, which makes his chest feel… funny.
he only nods in response, gesturing for you to wait outside so he can grab his stuff. there’s no way he’s letting his teammates near you, they’d only bombard you with stupid questions.
"okay! hurry up," you urge, smiling at him in a way that makes his earlier annoyance immediately melt away.
before you turn to leave, you tip toe and give him a quick peck on the cheek, one that has nearly his whole team gawking and gasping. it leaves him a bit surprised too, and he can feel his ears get warm from embarrassment. you look cheeky though, practically skipping out of the gym to wait outside for him like you didn’t just shell shock half the team.
as soon as you’re out of sight, an uproar follows as his teammates surround him, immediately asking questions and demanding details. he just rolls his eyes, huffing out short answers as he goes to gather his stuff.
…brat. ♡
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sort of a start of my kyotani series, which will honestly just consist of random drabbles and whatever else i can think of.
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ja3hwa · 10 hours ago
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♡ 𝐓𝐨 𝐋𝐨𝐯𝐞 𝐈𝐬 𝐓𝐨 𝐁𝐞 𝐎𝐧𝐞 | 𝐎𝐭𝟖 𝐀𝐭𝐞𝐞𝐳 ♡
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Day thirty-One - Dungeons and Dragons (Gang Bang)
【Synopsis】 : You want, needed to prove that you could achieve just as much greatness like the other guild members. So what better than a hunt that only you and your team can solve.
『Word count』 : 6.56k
-> Genre: Adventure Romance. SMUT. Sprinkle of angst.
Pairing: Ot8!Ateez x Fae!Reader
[Warnings] : Insults. Bar fighting. Mentions of Hongjoong being fwb with the reader. Pet Names. Tension!! Swearing. Getting trapped in a cave. Love confessions. Making out. Oral (multiple rec). Fingering. Breasts play and nipple play. Squirting. Cum eating? Inappropriate use of powers. Multiple orgasms. Unprotected sex. Rough sex. Manhandling. Dirty talk. Dom/sub dynamics. Marking. Biting. Blood drinking. Slight primal play. Sweet kisses. Facial. Slight size kink. Tummy bulge. Cum everywhere. Double penetration
Note: OH MY GOD HAPPY HALLOWEEN EVERYONE!! Wow. I honestly can not believe we actually got here. 34 fics done and dusted. Ahh. Thank you all for enjoying my work (Ima be more gushy when I make a post later), but!! I will add, lowkey forgot reader had wings in this fic...sooo. just uh pretend they're retractable or something cause whoops silly me was too focused on reader getting dick to worry about her wings. Sorry, ahh.
Networks: @cromernet @wonderlandnet @illusionnet @k-vanity
Masterlist | Navigation | Kinktober List | Tip Jar ♡
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A little Fae like you was never seen as equal to anyone when it came to the hunting games. Every time you came to local bars looking for work, most contractors would just laugh, some even mocking you, saying you were just a little frail Fae. Not cut out for the bounty-hunting life.
You beg to differ.
You have fought your fair share of Orcs, Vampires and devil spawn. You weren't afraid to get a little dirty. But yet, one drunk can take a look at you, seeing your soft sheer wings and dub you weak. You were on your way through another town after having word of an impossible hunt. One that no one has ever been able to complete or lived to tell of their failures. But you had confidence on your side, cause unlike the lonely brutes you had agility, flexibility and most importantly magic.
They went through the trails with a ‘me hit thing first talk maybe later’. You planned to show all the hunters in the community that you were worth it. That every piece of gold you earned was because you knew how to fight and hold yourself. That you were equal to them.
“No.”
“What do you mean no!?” You were fuming at this point, having travelled all this was only for the dungeon master to tell you no bluntly to your face.
“I mean no. It’s a team quest. You need a team and besides…” He looked you up and down with a perverted look, a look you were all too familiar with. “You aren't exactly, hunter material princess.”
Your eye twitched at that last remark. You’ve heard about other hunters going in alone, so why have they seemingly changed the rules? Why now, when you wanted to try the trail, you weren't qualified, yet again. Sighing in defeat, you mumbled to yourself while heading for the door. If the dungeon master was not going to gift you passage, you’d find another way. “Stupid fuck, doesn’t even know what I’m capable o—Oof…”
“Hey, watch it!” A tall orc growls in front of you, sneering a huff in your direction. You had walked right into him without even realising, too focused in your own mind to notice the idiot lug of green mass blocking the front door.
“How about you get out of the doorway.” You spat back, looking up at the hideous beast. It felt like the tavern had gone silent upon seeing a tiny fae like yourself talk with such confidence towards such a beastly creature. But the beast did not falter at your words unlike the crowd, no, it laughed instead.
“And what are you going to do, pewny little pixie.” The orc hollowed, his wrinkled belly jiggling like a bowl of old porridge. Your face turned red, while your wings flared.
“I am not a pixie, you half-sighted boar!!” The tension in the pub thickened, seeing the large orc change colour. You had successfully angered the beast. In the corner of your eye, you can see the Orc reach for his hatchets, but before he could put skin to metal a whistle echoed through the hot air, stopping everyone's movements. 
"There you are." A deep voice caught everyone's attention. It was another orc, but only he was smaller, less green. It was Jeong Yunho, or more known as Stormcaller. “I thought I lost you.”
You gulped quietly at the feeling of his arm draping over your shoulder, his musky scent invading your senses. The orc that you have just been fighting with scoffed looking at the seemingly “display of affection”. In orc morals, if an orc has a claim on someone then another orc cannot do no harm. So with a frustrated grumble, the stinky lump goes to walk away.
“Let's get outta here, hmm.” Yunho's whisper was daring and seductive, a charm he always carried when he was around You. And as he held the door open, you couldn't help but feel annoyed for not doing anything. just to show off in front of the drunken idiots… So in a split second, you turned back to the orc who—had his back turned—using your magic to lift up his hatchet and drop it on his foot making the large beast let out a guttural howl.
“Dukhal…[Bastard].” You spat before exiting the establishment, a smirk on your face as you walked with Yunho who had an equally sly smirk painting on his perfect features.
-
“Do I even ask?” Hongjoong pinched his nose as he paced in front of you and Yunho.
“To be fair it was really fucking hot.” Yunho laughed while taking a sip from his waterskin. You blushed at his sly remark but your focus was on the sorcerer in front of you. You haven't seen Hongjoong since you were in his bed at some cheap cabin house during last winter. It wasn't the first time one of you had slipped into each other's company for a night. But there was something seeing him being here now that felt different from the rest.
Last time you and him were together he confessed, his team. His friends—that you were all too aware of—had been… curious about your relationship with their captain. In other words—well Wooyoung's words—“Do any of us have a shot.” You left quickly after that, without a word. You were overwhelmed. It wasn't that you hadn't thought about sleeping or being with any of them before. But actually accepting was another thing. It wasn't common to be in love with more than two people, let alone eight. You always felt like you were broken in that aspect. That something wasn't developed right in your head. So you ran… like you always do when it came to love.
“Well, you're glad the guild didn't disqualify us for it.” Hongjoongs stern words caught you from your thoughts.
“W-why would they disqualify you? I did it. Not Yunnie..” You picked at your fingernails as you bit the inner part of your cheek. You watched Hongjoong whip out a piece of paper from his back pocket. It was a quest sheet, one a Dungeon master gives you. It was for the hunt you tried to join today but what caught your eye was all the names on the sheet. His team and…you. 
“I had a feeling when you caught wind of this quest you'd come looking for a challenge.” His smile always made your stomach do flips. “That's why Yun was looking for you.” he snapped his gaze to the orc that was leaning against a fallen tree. “I just didn't think he would let anything like this happen.”
Yunho put his hands up in defeat but it was you to speak up. “It was my fault. I got carried away.” Hongjoong looked back at you, taking a step closer until his face was almost inches from yours. 
“I don't doubt that. You have always been one to cause a scene.” Hongjoong’s voice was low, sultry. It caused Yunho to stare intensely. Your face reddened more if that was even possible, desperately wanting nothing more than to seal your lips against his. But as a cough echoed from Yunho's directions, you looked away taking in a sharp breath. “Hm…Well, l-lets get to the camp. The others will be waiting for us.”
Your nerves rattled as you walked with Yunho and Hongjoong to where the rest of the team would be finishing up with packing the campsite. Readying themselves to start the quest. Yunho had taken your backpack even though you said you could carry it on your own. But as you heard Wooyoung's piercing scream you knew this was going to be a long adventure.
You stayed close to Hongjoong as you all walked to the “spelunca cupiditatis”. A cave system that most competitors never leave. No one knows what the unknown language was or who had named the caves but most people have come to terms that the translation must be “caves of death.
”We're here.” Yeosang who was standing at the front of the team, his tail swaying as he focused on the map. Everyone stopped to gaze at the entrance. There wasn't much death vibes coming from it?
“You really want to do this…” you heard Hongjoong's voice whisper beside you. Turning You see concern on his face. All of you knew how dangerous this journey was. You all knew that you might not come out of it alive, but it was a risk you were all willing to take. 
“Yes, Joong.” You grabbed his hand instinctively, letting the wandering eyes catch the obvious display of affection. “We do this together.”
Your smile always made Hongjoong feel better. If he was having a crap day he could always think about the times he made you laugh, your bright smile easing his heart. Your eyes fell from Hongjoong's for a moment, taking notice of all the men trying to pretend they were bluntly staring a moment ago. You couldn't help but giggle slightly, feeling a sudden tug to each of them in different ways. 
The twisted vines and jagged stones bearing witness to countless tales of desperation and ambition were now going to show the story of you and the team and as you take each step forward you hoped and prayed the story was going to have a happy ending. So your heart raced, not merely from fear, but from the presence of Hongjoong standing close, his hand barely touching your own. You were glad to have his comforting presence but it also began to cause a tingle in your throat. 
"We can do this," You whispered to yourself, trying to muster the confidence that had been wavering ever since you felt the bar. The energy was palpable as the eight men shifted uneasily, exchanging nervous glances that spoke volumes of the dread they shared. The “what ifs” loomed dangerously: what if they were the next failed adventurers? What if they never returned? Your what if were seemingly growing more and more worse by the second. Afraid of all of the boys' safety. What if they died trying to protect you? Trying to play hero was something they all had in common and it terrified you. 
You couldn’t bear the idea of losing any of them. Each connection you shared with them pulsed with its own rhythm, enchanting you more deeply. Hongjoong's with his intellect that intrigued you, Jongho's with his inhuman strength and siren-like voice that was always comforting, Yunho’s warmth that was always inviting, Wooyoung’s vampiric wit that sparked excitement with every glance, Ser San's honour inspired respect something you didn’t ever think to learn before meeting him, Seonghwa's darkness that beckoned your curiosity and kept you awake most nights, Mingi's caring and gentle nature that always made your heart swoon and finally Yeosang's charm was utterly captivating leaving you breathless every time he spoke to you.
You couldn’t lose any of them. They are all so important if one of them died you would never forgive yourself━“Angel?...Are you okay? You’re squeezing my hand pretty tight.” you hadn’t realised Hongjoong had sneakily grabbed your hand nor the fact you almost stopped the blood to his poor fingers. Loosening your grip you apologised without any context leaving Hongjoong in the dark. But before he could protest a loud gasp echoed in the chamber you all found yourselves in.
As you all stepped into the large room—determined, or perhaps foolish, as the door behind them slammed shut with a resounding echo. You felt your heart drop at the sound, knowing the first trial had begun. The room was a shocking contrast to the cave’s tunnels and foreboding entrance. Lavishly decorated, it felt eerily reminiscent of a cosy home with walls adorned in colours that hinted at warmth and something domesticated. Golden tapestries draping the sides, flowering vines climbing towards the ceiling. In the centre of the room sat a peculiar floating silver bowl, it's surface glittering against the odd ambience. Curiosity piqued, as you watched the boys approach the bowl, but the locked door at the far end caught Seonghwa’s attention. It felt like a challenge—a puzzle waiting to be solved. “Let’s figure out what this is,” Seonghwa suggested cautiously, running his fingers along the door before noticing hold wear marks like the door had not been opened in centuries… comforting.
San leaned over the bowl first, squinting at the ancient script engraved at the bottom through the water. “It’s fae-ish? Uh…” Yeosang had a gaze. “That's old ancient fae…”
You pushed the men aside, trying to shake off the looming fear as you took a look at the writing. You didn't know a lot of the old tongue, but you were able to piece the sentence together just. “To open is to be opened, and to love is to be one.”
“What does that even mean?” Yunho asked, scratching his head.
“I think it means we need to express our feelings,” Hongjoong mused, his brows furrowing as he considered the possibilities. “But it’s not going to be as easy as it sounds…
“Oh wait what if it's more than that!!”” Wooyoung interjected, his tone mischievous but his eyes betraying a spark of fear. “What if we, like, confess our secrets or something? Not just feelings? Maybe that’s the key!” He laughed, but a nervous energy laced his voice. All of you chuckled half-heartedly, the prospect of revealing hidden feelings uncomfortable. Yet, the idea lingered. After a brief debate, spurred on by Wooyoung’s folly. "I'll go first!" He declared, stepping forth a little too energetically. He started listing all his loves—how he cherished their friendship, how he admired each one of them—but when he finished, the bowl remained unresponsive and the door was still sealed tight.
“Incredible. You killed the vibe, Wooyoung,” Mingi teased, rolling his eyes. All of you stood there lost, maybe all of you had to confess something? Yeosang pitched the idea and though half of you didn't wish to be as embarrassing as Wooyoung, but you all knew it had to be done. So one by one, the guys took turns professing their feelings, but the bowl stubbornly remained silent. Feeling the weight of your own unspoken emotions, your heart pounded as you noticed Hongjoong's thoughtful gaze. Somehow, those soft eyes sent a current of courage through you as you took a deep breath.
"It's my turn, I guess.." you whispered, taking Hongjoonds hand gently. You could feel the warmth of his presence envelop you, making you almost forget about the pending entrapment. "I’m so sorry for running away. I was scared. I realised... I was in love with you. And the question you ask…I didn’t want to answer it in fear of upsetting you.” Tears pricked Your eyes, and you quickly turned to the bowl, your palms sweaty. And to your lost hope the door remained locked.
“Hey…” Hongjoong grabbed your chin softly so you would look at him again. 
“It..Didn’t work.” You felt so ashamed admitting to the single thing that's been eating at you and in front of not only Hongjoong but all of his team.
“It’s okay…We’ll figure it out.” Hongjoong wanted nothing more than to kiss your tears away right now but in the same breath was worried you’d recoil if he did. You just confessed you were in love with him and that was the reason why you ran when he offered his friends to you. You respected him too much to even admit that you had a slither of desire for his friends. “Let’s take a break, Wooyoung and Yeosang can get the food ready and use one of the torches to create a fire.” 
He took notice of the small air pockets in the roof so at least they wouldn’t die from loss of oxygen. All the men started to move around like nothing happened but you couldn’t stop thinking. What else did you need to say? Was love not enough? The ancient words echoed in your mind over and over again., “to love is to be one…To love… is to be…” A gasp left your lips as you understood now: it wasn’t just about a confession. With renewed determination, you took a step back, making Hongjoongs hold of your slip. “I know what we’re missing…”
Without thought, you took a bold step, holding Hongjoong’s hands in yours as he tried to walk you to the others, his eyebrow raised as he tried to question. “What are we missing?”
“There is an ancient story in my culture about two lovers that built tunnels to hide their love…along with their treasure.” You looked at each of the men, only half of them following with what you were saying. “The story had gotten lost in translation over the years but the basis of it is that the only way to reach their treasure was to ‘become one.’” It was like all the lights went on in their heads as you said the last line given it matched the writing in the bowl.
“That still doesn’t explain what we are missing,” San interjected.
“Yes, it does…” You smile feeling proud you figured it out. “When they say become one, they mean to connect in a showcase of love…” You look back to Hongjoong. “This isn’t about telling each other how much we love one another. It’s about showing it…”
The room was deadly silent, Hongjoong and the others quickly sensing what you were meaning. The door wanted a display of affection, aka, sex. “So that means…” Wooyoung spoke up.
“We gotta fuck to open the door,” Yeosang said bluntly with arms crossed.
You suddenly felt yourself being drawn into a web of lust and anticipation. Waiting to see what anyone might add. But as you watched Hongjoong lean down towards your ear you felt your breath hitch. "Every single man here wants to taste what's between your thighs, angel. They want to feel your soft skin, hear your moans, and watch you lose control. What I told you that night was true. We all want you…for a while now.”
Your heart quickened as a wave of heat washed over you. The thought of being desired by all men at once was almost too much to bear. Maybe you weren’t as broken as you thought. "I want  it…" You whispered, your voice catching in your throat. "I love all of you..."
“That’s my girl.” You could feel Hongjoong’s sly smirk against your ear as he suddenly stood up straight, taking you by the hand and leading you to the centre of the room. The others watched with hooded eyes, their cocks already beginning to stir with excitement and anticipation.
“This is really happening?!” Wooyoung gasped but Jongho was quick to elbow him causing the poor vampire to let out a wheeze.
“Shut the fuck up.” Was all Jongho said as they all went back to focusing on their leader and you. Slowly, Hongjoong began to undress you, peeling away your clothes layer by layer. His touch was delicate as if one wrong move would cause you to break. You felt like your heart was going to burst out of your chest at the sheer thought of being bare in front of all of them. But as Hongjoong untied the string to your undercoat, it fell breathlessly off your shoulders, leaving you completely naked for all of their hot gazes to eye.
The cool night air that slipped into the cave caressed your exposed skin, leaving goosebumps and shivers down your spine. Hongjoong's fingers traced the curves of your body, his touch both gentle and possessive. Spinning you around so your back couldn’t be flush against his chest, he brought his hands up to cup your breasts, thumbing your erect nipples, while his tongue flicked out to taste the sensitive flesh of your neck. Giving all the boys a perfect display of him playing with your body. You moaned, your head falling back against his shoulder in surrender. You could feel Hongjoong's hard cock pressing against your ass, but he teasingly denied you both the pleasure of going any further.. no, not yet. He wanted to savour the moment. He needed to watch all his friends lose their composure.
So Instead, he thought of an idea, lifting you effortlessly, by using his magic to support you in the air slightly, he sank to his knees in front of you, positioning your pussy directly in front of his face. Hongjoong's tongue flicked out, licking your slit from bottom to top, causing you to cry out, your hands flying for his soft locks. He latched onto your clit, sucking and nibbling as his fingers plunged into your wet cunt quickly. Your hazy eyes stared down at him for a moment before catching the gaze of all the other men in the room. Each of them displaying their own build of need on their expressions while a few started to palm their own cocks through their pants. Your hips bucked uncontrollably as you neared your high, your juices coating Hongjoong's face, some even dripping down his chin and neck.
Out of all the boys, it was Seonghwa who couldn't contain himself any longer. Moving closer, his golden eyes piercing you while his dragon form shimmered just beneath the surface of his human appearance. He reached out, pinching your nipples between his thumb and forefinger, rolling and tugging them gently as he leaned in to nuzzle your neck. His flaming hot breath and sharp teeth left marks on your delicate skin. As he kissed and nibbled his way up your jaw before his clawed fingers gripped your chin to look at him.
“Such a sweet little fae. A soft little rabbit.” You could hear the dragon beneath his breath, steam pooling out his nose as he huffed. Breaking one of your hands from Hongjoongs hair, you came to rest it on Seonghwa’s cheek, beckoning him to close the gap between you. “You want a kiss baby?”
His sweet almost taunting words made our cunt clench around Hongjoong’s fingers, feeling yours tread closer towards the edge. “Please, Hwa. I want you to kiss him.”
You were desperate, wanting to know how the dragon would kiss. Is he a slow and sensual lover or does he fuck with roughness and passion? “Since you asked nicely…” He rotated his fingers from your chin to squeeze your cheek together pushing your lips out. And without another thought, he sealed his slips on yours. You could almost feel the fire on his tongue as he practically shoved the large snake-like appendage down your throat.
You gagged slightly, whimpers mixing with light coughs but you ended up finding the rhythm to breathe through your nose. But what caught you off guard was suddenly feeling another body on the other side of you. You couldn’t look over to see who it was but when you heard the grunt in your ear you could take a guess. “You look so cute, doll. So tiny compared to all of us.”
It was Yunho and of course, this huge orc of a man had a thing for sizes. He was busy palming his large cock that was straining against his pants. He released his erection in the next second, stroking its impressive length as he groped one of your plump breasts, rolling your sensitive nipple between his fingers, while his long tongue licked along your neck. Your body felt like it was on fire, the pleasure building to an unbearable level. Hongjoong's skilled fingers and tongue pushed you over the edge, while Yunho and Seonghwa’s tongues and hands worked their magic. You screamed as your orgasm ripped through you, your slick squirting and drenching Hongjoong's face and chest.
Hongjoong stood, still holding you, and looked at his friends with a satisfied smile, licking his lips as he panted. "So…Whose fucking her first?" he asked, his voice laced with challenge and lust, a cheeky pip making all the boys look at one another trying to figure out how they could possibly choose. Before anyone could respond, Wooyoung took it upon himself to take you for a spin. Using his vampire speed in a blur, he snatched you from Hongjoong's and the other's arms. He positioned you over one of the old chair-like couches, your hands grasping the rough split wood as he lined up his throbbing cock with your soaked pussy. 
And with a swift thrust, he impaled you, his length disappearing inside you in one smooth motion. Your and his screams mixed as the pleasure overwhelmed both of you, your body vibrating with the force of Wooyoung's frantic drilling. He pounded into you with his jaw slack, never feeling a better feeling than this. His hips were almost a blur, his cock fucking you deeper and deeper as he swore. “Fuck, you’re pussy is so fucking tight. Fuck, fuck, fuck. Are you sure Hongjoong has ever fucked you? You feel like a fucking virgin.”
The sound of his frantic jackhammering filled the room, wet flesh slapping against even more so wet flesh, your desperate moans, and Wooyoung's grunts of pleasure. The others watched in awe and slight jealousy. None of them even got to have a say on who went first, making them feel the possessiveness brew in their guts. Wanting nothing more than to have their turns. They all had their own hands working their cocks as they witnessed the erotic display of Wooyoung pounding you while you struggled to stay upright on the rickety chair. “WOo arh! AHH Wooyoung!!!”
Wooyoung's speed increased, and you could feel his vampire lust taking over. His fangs lengthened as he leaned down, his lips brushing your ear as he whispered, "I'm going to fill that tight cunt with my cum, baby. You're going to take every last drop fucking drop while I get a taste of your sweet blood.”
“Yes! Yes! Please, b-bite me.” You have no clue where your filter went but it clearly was left outside the cave. You heard a dark chuckle from the undead man pounding you and before you could beg again you felt his sharp fangs pierce your soft skin. His grunt as he drank from you, sent your mind spiralling as you quickly fell into another orgasm, your walls clenching around Wooyoung's thick cock tightly making the vampire tip over to his own release. His growls were almost primal, feeling your pussy clench around him while he tasted your blood rushing through him. He slammed into you one last time, his cock twitching as he flooded you with his cold cum, finally unlatching his fangs from you, making sure to lick up the wound so it could heal.
You slumped forward, as Wooyoung gently lowered you completely onto the chair. He kissed your cheek before grabbing your chin so he could seal his lips against your own, his tongue exploring your mouth as he let you taste your own blood.
"Damn, that was a sight," Hongjoong said, a smile playing on his lips as he crossed his arms. "But we're not done yet, are we, Angel?" He points to the door, seeing it hasn’t moved even an inch. You, still catching your breath, looked up at the circle of lustful men surrounding you making you visibly gulp with a small smile.
Sitting up slightly to sit on your ass, while biting your lip as you spread your legs to show all Wooyoung’s cum drip out of your puffy cunt. It was like it hypnotised all of them but without as much as a peep, Mingi came stomping over, as you suddenly found yourself in his powerful grip.
He spun you around, so he could take your place on the chair as his eyes darkened with lust, lowering you onto his lap. You gasped as you felt his thick cock sink deep into your sensitive pussy without a care. And to say this man was fucking huge all over, he was fucking huge all over. Stretching you further than you thought possible, and you couldn't help but moan loudly, your screams bouncing off the walls in sheer desperation.
Mingi growled, a low deep sound that sent shivers down your spine and tingles in your tummy. He began to move, thrusting up into you with fierce, rapid snaps of his hips. Your nails dug into his chest, scratching lines into his tanned skin as he marked your hips with his strong grip. The sensation of being fucked so roughly had your head spinning and seeing stars. Your cries grew louder, your voice hoarse and filled with need. But if that wasn't enough, Yeosang joined you. He grabbed a handful of your hair, pulling your head back to expose your throat. You let out a yelp at the sting while his other hand tilted your chin up, forcing you to meet his intense almost sadistic gaze. Then, without warning, and a big sly smirk, he sunk his cock into your waiting mouth. You moaned around his length, your eyes rolling back as you tried to relax your throat to take him in whole. Yeosang began to move, fucking your face with the same precision and determination that Mingi had. Your mouth filled with the taste of him, making you crave more. “That’s it pet, your throat is so warm. Are you going to let me paint this pretty face? Hmm?”
Mingi and Yeosang moved together in a frenzied rhythm. Mingi's cock pounded into your pussy, hitting your deepest spots, while Yeosang used your mouth for his own pleasure, holding your head in a tight grip as he thrusted deep. The sting tickled down your throat and the burn was tight in your jaw but you could feel yourself getting closer to the edge, your body trembling with the effort of holding back your orgasm. Mingi must have sensed you were close because he reached down, his fingers finding your clit, rubbing it in firm circles. Your cries were muffled by Yeosang’s cock while your juices flowed as you came hard, your pussy clenching around Mingi tightly. With a loud grunt, he emptied himself into you, his hot cum mixing with Wooyoung's, filling you to the brim.
“Fuuuckk.” Mingi moaned at the same time, Yeosang pulled out of your mouth, jerking himself quickly as he shot his load all over your face and tits, marking you with his release. You panted, your body spent, but you had little time to recover as the next man stepped forward to claim you.
“My turn, honey…” Jongho, using his inhuman strength, he lifted you up easily, wrapping your legs around his waist as he held you up against the nearby wall. You smiled lazily at him as he used what seemed like to be his shirt to wipe off Yeosang’s cum from your face. He gently licked the rest of Yeo’s seed, before kissing your cheeks tenderly. “Such a pretty baby…”
His sweet murmurs made your heart skip and your tummy tingle as you giggle. He held you close, gently stroking your hair as the other hand that held your thigh squeezed gently, easing the ache in your limbs. Your arms wrap naturally around his neck, reciprocating his love but gifting him kisses in return. But as he lifted you higher slowly, you knew what you were in for. His cock was already slick with your juices as he sunk into you carefully taking his time with you. His lips captured your cries as he devoured your mouth losing himself with every inch that sinks deeper inside your ruined cunt. You tasted Yeosang on his tongue, and it only served to heighten your forever-growing arousal.
Jongho may have started off softly paced but his thrusts soon became relentless, pounding into you with his superhuman strength, his thick cock hitting your sweet spot over and over. You couldn’t help but squirm in his hold, your legs tightening around his waist as you bucked your hips out of rhythm, feeling another orgasm building, quicker than the last. And just as you were about to fall over the edge, you felt your body being taken away from the wall, as it was replaced with a warm body and another cock nudging the entrance to your pussy. San’s charming chuckle made your foggy mind spin as he whispered in your ear, "Take a deep breath, beautiful,"
And then he was pushing into you alongside Jongho. The sensation of being so full sent you into a frenzy, and you came uncontrollably as if you had lost all control over your body. Your cunt clenched around both cocks as your juices squirted out, soaking the floor below you. The display was erotic within itself, as all the men kept their stares on the fresh entertainment. Jongho couldn't hold on any longer, and with a roar, he stopped his hips with a staggering whine, filling your puffy pussy with his hot seed. San followed soon after, his cock twitching as he emptied himself into also. You felt so full with four different loads deep inside you. You could feel it slowly drip out of you as one cock pulls out of you and a new one replaces it. You felt like a used sex toy, used, abused and completely satisfied.
You slumped against Jongho, your body spasming slightly from the overstimulation but you surprisingly begged for more. Your teary eyes glanced at the door for a moment, a part of you was wishing it was opened already so you could relax. But the other part wanted it to only open after you had your fill of each man in the room. And speaking of them…There were now just two men left, and they approached you with hungry eyes. Seonghwa and Yunho, each presented a tempting offer of passion, roughness and a lingering darkness… Yunho growled, his voice deep and rumbling, "It's time for the main event, little one."
Seonghwa had laid out a sleeping bag, a devious smile on his face. Yunho, gently but firmly, grabbed your figure from the other men before laying you down, your limbs splayed as you basked in the afterglow of your previous highs while also finally getting to relax without standing or being uncomfortably in the air. Yunho positioned himself between your legs, his cock a stunning green and unnaturally large. You couldn't help but bite your lip as you anticipated him, your pussy already beginning to throb with need. “Y-your so big…”
“I get told that a lot.” Yunho’s voice was cocky, charming and deep. He knew he was good and it showed. His hands grabbed the back of your legs where your knees crease, bending you almost in half. Your pussy was wide on display at this angle but there was no time to gawk as Yunho sunk into you slowly, his cock stretching you to your limits. You were mentally glad San and Jongho had fucked you together now to help you with this sting of Yunho almost breaking you.
You couldn't help but moan nonetheless, your nails digging into the sleeping bag as you tried to adjust to his size as quickly as you could. Once he was fully bottomed out inside you, he studied your face. Watching your brows knit and bend with a painful pleasure. He began to move, his hips snapping forward with each thrust while his balls slapped against your ass loudly. If you weren't so drunk on the idea of being passed around, maybe you’d be embarrassed by the sound. But right now all you cared about was getting this large orc’s cum deep inside your cunt.
Seonghwa came to stand beside you both, and with a gentle hand, he tilted your head up, urging you to take him in your mouth. With wide eyes you did so willingly, your gaze fluttering closed in pleasure as you sucked his length. Seonghwa threaded his fingers into your hair, holding you in place as he began to fuck your face, his hips moving in tandem with Yunho's. “What do you know, you’re throat does feel good, fuck.”
“You should try this pussy.” Yunho grunted, spitting onto your clit before rubbing it harshly. “I could stay in it forever.”
You were in complete ecstasy, your body being used exactly as you had always craved. Pleasuring all your boys, gifting them what they desire while also taking your own pleasure. You couldn’t ever ask for more. You scratched your nails down Seonghwa's thighs, marking his perfect skin as you felt Yunho's cock reach places no one ever had. Your pussy was on fire in the best way, and you could feel the bulge of his cock deep in your tummy as if he could literally rearrange your guts. You knew Yunho was huge, but the sensation of being so utterly filled was indescribable.
Seonghwa moaned, his hands tightening in your hair as he grew closer to the edge, moaning your name over and over. You looked up at him, your eyes glazed with lust, and you felt a wave of confidence to suck him harder, your throat relaxing to take him in deeper. Seonghwa groaned, his cock twitching as his hips stuttered, “Fuck fuck fuck. Lord nargh…” He filled your mouth with his release, his cum coating your throat as you tried your best to swallow it all.
Yunho, too, was close, his grunts and the slapping of his hips against your ass the only sounds in the spacious cave. And with one final thrust, he buried himself as deep inside you as he could, coming with an endless amount. His cock pulsed as he shot his thick load, letting you feel him twitching and shifting inside you. His fingers did not cease as he was on a mission to make your pussy throb with satisfaction. “Come on baby, cum for me. I wanna feel you cream around my huge fucking cock.”
You screamed, Seonghwa suddenly pulling out of you while you tightened around Yunho. He felt a second load empty as you milked him dry. He quickly pulled out right after, his cock slipping from your pussy with a wet pop. Laying on the sleeping bag, your body sticky with cum and satisfied beyond measure. The eight men stood around you, their eyes hungry as they admired their handy work. It was almost as if you all forgot where you were or why you were there in the first place.
But suddenly it was like the air shifted. The door behind all of you had creaked open, light spilling into the room like a promise of hope, illuminating your path forward. You sat up slowly with the help of Seonghwa and Hongjoong, smiles painted on all your faces. Leaning against Hongjoong’s chest you took a breath before speaking with a hoarse but soft voice.
“It worked…”
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harknessxo · 2 days ago
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Paring: Serial-killer!Stalker!Agatha Harkness x reader
Summary: You get to have your happy ending with Agatha in the end.
Warnings; smut, fingers, cunnilingus (A receiving), strap on use, mommy kink, praise/degradation kink.
Word Count: 5.3k
Part 1, Part 2
A/n: A lot of people wanted a part three and here it is. This is the final part!
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Monica was outside like she said she would when they released you. The car ride was a bit awkward especially after your outburst. She would glance over at you every now and then, not sure what to say. She was worried about you and the fact that you seemed to have some sort of attachment to Agatha. She knew that you were a good person and that you wouldn’t hurt anyone on purpose but she couldn’t help but feel a sense of unease.
“Y/n…can I ask you something?”
“Mhm.” She hesitated for a moment before speaking.
“Do you really love her?”
“I…” you paused and remembered what Agatha had told you, “No, no I don’t. I don’t know what was going through my head. I’m sorry for my outburst,” you lied, chuckling nervously. She let out a sigh of relief, her grip on the steering wheel loosening.
“Thank god. I was worried about you. You seemed so…possessed.”
“Hah…I guess I just needed some time to process everything….”
“I understand. It’s a lot to take in. But I need you to promise me something, okay?”
“What’s that?”
“Promise me that you will go see a therapist. I know a good one in town. She helped a friend of mine a while ago.” She could tell you were acting a bit. She just wanted what was best for you.
“I…I promise.”
“Good. I just want to make sure you’re okay. Here,” she took out a paper card from her purse, “This is her number.” You took the card from her and read out the name.
“Christina Raynor.” Monica nodded.
“Yeah, she’s a good therapist. I think you’ll like her. Just give her a call and set up an appointment, okay?”
“Will do.” Just as you finished your sentence, she pulled up in front of your house and put the car in park.
“Alright, we’re here. Do you need me to come inside with you?”
“No, it's fine. She’s in jail now.” You joked uncomfortably and she chuckled.
“You’re right. She’s locked up tight. I still can’t believe she got away with all those murders for so long…”
“Me neither,” you didn’t like the thought of talking bad about Agatha so you just hugged her to get it over with, “Thank you, Monica.” She hugged you back, squeezing you tightly.
“You’re welcome. Just take care of yourself, okay? And call me if you need anything.”
You bid her goodbye and went inside your house. It felt so empty, you wanted Agatha to be here with you. It was 6 pm by now and you were nowhere near tired. You decided to sit on your couch, exactly where Agatha had sat earlier that day, and watch some tv. It was hard to find anything to watch, almost every channel talking about the serial killer being put behind bars. It made your blood boil.
The news kept going on and on about Agatha and her crimes. Some of them were praising the police for finally catching her, others were speculating on how long she would get in prison. You tried to change the channel but it seemed like every channel was talking about her. It made you miss her even more. The way she touched you, the way she kissed you, the way she spoke to you. You missed everything about her.
Then you remembered the brooch. You took it out of your pocket and looked at it. Brushing your fingers over the symbol on it. You didn’t know what it meant but you knew it meant a lot to Agatha. You had no idea why it was so important to Agatha but just looking at it made you feel a strange connection to her. It almost felt like she was right next to you, watching over you with her cold, blue eyes.
The following days felt like torture. You had scheduled some appointments with the therapist Monica told you about like you promised. She seemed to see right through your act but you didn’t give in.
Every time you would go into her office, she could sense that you were lying to her. You would tell her how happy you were to be free from Agatha and how much you were enjoying your freedom but there was a part of you that missed her. Christina could see it in your eyes, even if you tried to hide it. It was like there was a void inside of you that only Agatha could fill.
“Alright, let’s try this once again, what happened the morning after Wanda’s murder?” Christian asked. She’s been asking the same questions every session trying to get something out of you.
“This again?” You sighed.
“Yes, again. You’ve been dodging the question every time I ask you about it.”
“I woke up, Monica called me to look at the news and I saw Agatha was the killer. I cried like everyone does then someone rang my doorbell. I went to look and simply found a flower on the floor and then Agatha kidnapped me. Happy?” She jotted something down on her notepad before looking up at you again.
“Who left the flower on your doorstep?”
“Agatha.” You answered flatly and she leaned back in her chair, eyeing you carefully.
“And why do you think she left a flower?”
“I don’t know…” you acted dumb. You knew why she left it. She left it as a way to apologize for killing Wanda. Christina sighed, clearly getting frustrated with you.
“Y/n, you can’t just act like you don’t know. I need you to be honest with me.”
“I am. I don’t know why she left it.” She closed her notepad, crossing her arms.
“You do realize that lying to your therapist isn’t going to get you anywhere, right?”
“Look, I’m only here because I made a promise to a friend. I am fine.” She pinched the bridge of her nose, exhaling deeply.
“Being ‘fine’ and needing therapy are two completely different things. Clearly, you have something that you’re not telling me and I think it has something to do with the fact that you have developed Stockholm syndrome and you choose to ignore it.”
“Don’t be ridiculous. I could never love someone who killed my best friend,” you lied. Saying that sentence almost physically hurt you. Christina chuckled, shaking her head.
“That’s exactly the problem, sweetheart. You do love her. Whether you admit it to yourself or not, you do.”
“Alright, are we done here?” You were starting to get agitated.
“Yes, we’re done for today. But I’m telling you, the sooner you accept your feelings for her, the easier it’ll be to deal with this whole situation.”
You simply gathered your things and left. The whole day your thoughts would go to Agatha. Was she actually coming for you? Did she actually love you? Was everyone else right? You shook your head, trying not to let those thoughts get to you. The drive home was miserable, you dreaded go back to an empty house. Everyday you hoped Agatha would be there when you got back but it’s been almost a week and no luck.
You arrived at your house and opened the door, being greeted by the same deafening silence that had plagued your home the past few days. It was late now, nearing 8pm, and you hadn’t eaten anything yet. You sighed as you closed the door behind you, dropping your bag and keys on the floor. You were hungry but you had no energy to cook.
“What’s got you so gloomy, sweet girl?” A voice suddenly said. Your head almost instantly turned towards the direction of the voice.
“Aggie?” She chuckled as she emerged from the shadows, stepping into the light. She was leaning against the wall with a smirk on her face, extending her arms outwards.
“Did you miss me?” You ran into her arms, clinging to her like she was your lifeline while tears spilled down your cheeks.
“I’ve missed you so much,” you sobbed. She was quick to wrap her arms around you, pulling you against her body as you clung to her. She gently stroked your hair, running her fingers through it as she shushed you.
“Shh… it’s okay, baby girl. I’m here now.”
“How did you get out?” You asked, curiously. She smirked again, tilting your chin up so that you were looking at her.
“Don’t worry your pretty little head about that but we must hurry. They will be looking for me soon and they will most likely come here first.”
“Okay…oh!” you stopped abruptly, searching for something in your pocket, “I kept it safe like you asked,” you smiled, handing her the brooch. She smiled when you handed her the brooch, taking it from your hand and inspecting it carefully. A look of relief washed over her face as she saw that it was undamaged.
“Good girl…” she put the brooch on your shirt, “I want you to keep it. Now, be a good girl and get your things. We need to leave before they come.”
“Okay!” You were about to run upstairs but she grabbed your arm before you could go any further.
“Okay, what?”
“Okay, mommy.” Agatha smiled, pulling you flush against her again. She put a finger under your chin, making you look up at her.
“You're so perfect for me, baby, I can’t wait to have you all to myself again.”
“Please kiss me!” You begged. She chuckled, amused by how needy you were already. She leaned down and captured your lips in a deep, hungry kiss, her hands grabbing your hips to pull you even closer to her. You pathetically melted into her. You would have fallen if it wasn’t for her hands on your hips holding you up. She felt you go weak in her arms and she broke the kiss for a moment, just to whisper against your lips.
“So sensitive, baby. You’re so desperate for me but let’s get your things,” she started leading you upstairs so you could pack essentials. After all your things were safely packed, she led you to a black SUV outside. You were confused on how she was able to get a hold of it but decided to not ask questions. She opened the passenger side door and gently pushed you into the seat before going around to the driver’s side. She started the car and pulled out of your street, starting the long drive to what was meant to be your new home.
“Where are we going, mommy?”
“A place I have set up just for us, sweetheart. Somewhere no one will find us.” She reached over and placed her hand on your thigh, gently squeezing it as she drove. She was clearly enjoying the fact that you were already calling her mommy again.
“You promise? I don’t want to have to go through that again. Everyone kept telling me that you were using me and that you didn’t actually love me-”
“Don’t listen to those fools, baby. I love you more than you could ever know. They’re just jealous of the fact that you belong to me and no one else.” She scoffed at your words, her grip on your thigh tightening.
“Really?”
“Of course, baby girl. I’ve loved you since the day I laid eyes on you and I’ll continue to love you for as long as I live. No one will ever take you away from me. You’re mine.”
“And you’re mine?” She chuckled at your question, a small smirk on her face.
“All yours, sweetheart. You own me just as much as I own you.” You smiled sweetly at her, intertwining your hand with hers.
“My best girl,” she said, kissing the back of your hand before continuing to drive in comfortable silence. The drive was quite long but you didn’t care as long as you had Agatha. By the time you arrived at your new home in the middle of nowhere, the sun had begun to rise. The house was in the middle of the woods, far away from any signs of civilization. There was a lake not too far away from it and it was beautiful. Agatha parked the car and got out, walking around to open your door for you and holding out her hand for you to take.
“Aggie, this is beautiful,” you gushed, looking at the house and its surroundings. She chuckled as she took your hand and pulled you out of the car, wrapping an arm around your waist to pull you against her side. She looked at the house and then back at you, a satisfied smile on her face.
“I knew you’d like it, baby. I picked it just for you.”
“How were you even able to get it?” She smirked at your question, giving your hip a squeeze as she started walking towards the front door.
“You don’t want to know, sweetheart.” You just nodded in response and she handed you the keys so you would be the first to go in. She watched as you opened the door, her eyes glued to you the whole time. You were practically buzzing with excitement as she stepped inside after you, shutting the door behind her and pinning you against it.
“Mommy?” Your voice trembled with anticipation. Her eyes darkened as you called her that again. She pushed herself up against you, her body pressed against yours as she looked down at you.
“Do you want mommy's fingers?”
“Mhm!” You nodded your head desperately. She smirked again, loving how desperate you were already. She grabbed your chin and tilted your head up, forcing you to look at her.
“Tell me, did you touch yourself while I was away?”
“No. Only you can.”
“Fuck, angel. I couldn’t have asked for a better girl,” she claimed your lips, shoving her tongue in your mouth. You tried to keep up with her pace but it was difficult when she was so hungry for you. She was relentless, her tongue exploring every inch of your mouth as her hands roamed your body. She pushed her knee between your legs, applying pressure against your core.
“Hmph!” She grinned against your lips, pulling away to nip at your jawline as she continued to apply pressure to your core with her knee. Her hands slid down to your hips, gripping them tightly and holding you in place against the door.
“Mommy, please!” You needed her and fast.
“Please what, baby? Use your words,” She teased, nipping at your neck before sucking on it, determined to leave marks all over your skin.
“I need you,” you whined, your hands gripping onto her shirt. She groaned at your whine, her resolve breaking as she picked you up and carried you further into the house. She was still marking up your neck as she made her way towards the bedroom, leaving a trail of marks behind as she went.
Once you were in the bedroom, she placed you on the bed and the both of you scattered to take your clothes off. She wasted no time in removing her clothes, her eyes roaming over your body hungrily as you did the same. She quickly climbed onto the bed and pinned you down, straddling your waist as she leaned down and continued marking up your skin, making sure to cover every inch of your body with hickeys.
“S-stop teasing,” you whined pathetically, trying to push her down to where you need her most.
“Nuh uh,” she pinned your hands above your head, “Do I have to tie you up again, hm? I bet you would like that.”
“But mommy-” you sobbed.
“No buts, baby girl. I’m in control here, remember? I’ll do whatever I want with you,” she said in a dominant tone, her grip on your wrists tightening as she nipped at your earlobe.
Tears of agony rolled down your cheeks as you tried to grind your hips against her for any sort of relief. Not having her for a week was absolute torture. She smiled at your tears, seeing you so desperate was a sight she would never get tired of. She chuckled as you tried to grind against her, holding your hips down to stop you from moving.
“Aw, is someone being a needy little girl? You really can’t wait for me to touch you, can you?”
“I need you so bad,” you sobbed again.
“I know, sweetheart. But I want to hear you beg for it. I want to hear you beg for mommy’s fingers,” she cooed in your ear, her voice low and sultry as she continued to hold your wrists and hips down with ease.
“Pretty please? I’ll be good, mommy!”
“God, baby, you sound so pretty when you beg,” she let go of your wrist and instead gripped to the back of your neck, pulling at your hair, “Say it again,” she demanded.
“Pretty please?” you said again, this time with an innocent tone knowing it would make her spiral. Agatha let out a low groan at your tone. She could feel her resolve crumbling once again as she looked down at you. You were too cute and too desperate and it was driving her insane.
“You know I can’t say no to you,” she slipped her fingers inside you without warning. She cursed under her breath as she felt how wet you were, her fingers easily sliding in. She started to move them slowly, curling them against your walls as she watched your expression intently. She watched as your brows frowned in pleasure, her hand still pulling at your hair.
“Look at you, so desperate for my fingers. You’re already a moaning mess and I’ve barely even touched you,” she said in a mocking tone, her pace slowly picking up as she continued to thrust her fingers in and out of you. Your hands gripped onto her back, your nails digging into it, leaving moon crescent shapes behind.
She let out a moan of her own at the feeling of your nails digging into her back. It hurt a bit but she absolutely loved it. She continued to move her fingers faster, keeping her pace relentless as she started to suck on your neck again, leaving behind even more marks.
“Mommy! I want- I need m-more!”
“Aww, you need more? My baby’s greedy, isn’t she?” She teased as she added a third finger, curling them all and pushing them deep inside of you. You absolutely melted with the added pressure. It felt so fucking good. She could feel you getting tighter around her fingers and it was driving her crazy. She moved her lips up to your ear, nibbling on the lobe as she whispered to you.
“That’s it, sweetheart. Just take my fingers. They feel so good inside you, don’t they?”
“Yes! So good!”
“My little slut,” she kissed you as she picked up the pace even more, her fingers moving in and out of you at a brutal pace, hitting all the right spots inside you.
“C-cum?” You babbled out, your speech reduced to gibberish.
“You want to cum, baby?” She asked, a smirk on her face as she kept up her pace, her fingers moving in and out of you at a punishing pace, her thumb rubbing against your clit. You nodded your head, unable to make up words.
“Go on then, baby. Cum for me,” She cooed, her fingers curling inside of you once again as she continued to play with your clit, wanting to see you fall apart completely under her touch. Your nails only dig deeper into her back as you came, drawing blood.
Agatha let out a pornographic moan of her own as she felt you digging your nails further into her back. It was so deliciously painful she could feel her own arousal growing, feeling incredibly needy for you but wanting to focus on your pleasure first.
“That’s it, baby girl. Such a good girl,” She said as she slowly pulled her fingers out of you, looking down at your trembling form with a smirk. She was about to get up to get her strap but you took a hold of her wrist.
“Mommy? Can I taste you, please?” She froze for a moment, not expecting that at all. She wasn’t used to her partners wanting to taste her. Usually she would just focus on them, getting off by giving them pleasure but with you…well, she couldn’t deny that she was very intrigued by the thought.
“Is that what you want, sweetheart?”
“Mhm!” You eagerly responded. She looked down at you for a moment, her expression unreadable as she thought about it. She was tempted to say no just to tease you but in the end she couldn’t bring herself to do it. She wanted to see how good you were with your tongue.
“Go ahead then, angel.” To her surprise you pulled her up, making her sit in your face and you immediately got to work, lapping over her wet folds, moaning her sweet taste. She gasped as she felt the vibrations of your moans against her core. She braced herself against the headboard as you continued to lap at her folds, a shiver running down her spine as she felt your tongue on her.
“F-fuck…” she cursed as you worked h your tongue. You didn’t move your eyes from her face. She looked so beautiful when she was in pleasure. She tried her best to keep her composure but the way you worked your tongue was making it difficult. It felt so good, better than she could have imagined and the way you were staring up at her was driving her crazy. Her thighs clenched around your head as she bit down on her lip to try and stifle a moan.
You wanted to hear her moan so you gently bit down on her clit. A gasp turned into a loud moan when you did, her hips jerking forward involuntarily. She grabbed onto your hair tightly, holding you against her as she threw her head back in pleasure. You sneakily slid two fingers inside of her, knowing that would send her over the edge.
Agatha let out a string of curses as you slid your fingers inside her, her back arching and her grip on your hair tightening even more. Her hips began to move in rhythm with your fingers, desperately seeking more of you. With one final suck on her clit, she let herself come undone on your face, her hips halting. Her entire body trembled as she came, a loud moan escaping her lips as she let go of your hair and slumped back against the headboard. She was panting heavily, her chest rising and falling rapidly as she came down from her high.
“Did I do good, mommy?” You asked ever so innocently. She let out a breathless laugh, looking down at you with a look of awe on her face. You were absolutely adorable, covered in her slick and looking up at her with those big eyes.
“You did more than good, baby. You did amazing,” she said before pulling you into a kiss, tasting herself on your tongue. She grabbed your chin, holding your face in place as she kissed you hungrily, claiming your mouth as hers.
You hadn’t realized how wet you had gotten from that until Agatha placed her knee in between your legs, putting little pressure on your pussy and you whimpered. She smirked as she heard the whimper escape your lips, pulling away from the kiss to look down at you with a smug expression. She could feel the wetness on her knee and it made her desire for you grow even more.
“Aww, is someone needy?”
“N-no,” you tried to deny it, thinking it was embarrassing to get so needy merely by getting her off. She chuckled, not believing your denial for a second. She could see how desperate you were just by looking at you. Your flushed face, your ragged breathing, the way your hips moved ever so slightly against her knee.
“You’re a terrible liar, hon. Do you want mommy’s cock, hm?” Your eyes immediately lit up at the mention of her strap. Her smirk only grew wider as she noticed your eyes light up. You wanted it so bad. She knew exactly what you were thinking and it made her want to tease you more.
“You want mommy’s strap that badly, huh?”
“Mhm!”
“Are you going to beg for it?” She asked in a low tone, her knee still between your legs and putting a little more pressure against your aching core.
“Please mommy? I want your cock so bad!” She let out a satisfied hum at your begging, her smirk never leaving her face. She loved the way you called her ‘mommy’ and the fact that you were so desperate for her was driving her crazy.
“That’s a good girl, asking so nicely,” she said, getting up and walking into the walk in close and came back with the strap around her hips. You looked at it and realized it was quite bigger than the one she used before, making you clench your thighs together. She could see the look of nervousness on your face but she could also see the hint of excitement in your eyes. She climbed back onto the bed, crawling over you and hovering above you with a predatory look in her eyes.
“Nervous, darling?”
“Isn’t it a little too big?” You asked, anxiously. She smiled and reached out to cup your cheek, gently caressing your face with her thumb.
“Don’t you worry your pretty little head about it. I’ll make it fit.” She got in between your legs, ready to be buried inside you until you abruptly stopped her. She looked at you, concerned for a second until you took her hand and wrapped it around your neck with an innocent look on your face. She didn’t expect you to do that but the way you were looking at her was making her brain short circuit. You were going to be the death of her.
She could feel her arousal growing even more as she tightened her grip on your neck, just enough to cut off some of your air supply. You gasped but didn’t make any move to stop her. Her smirk returned as she felt your pulse. She loved seeing you like this, so vulnerable and submissive beneath her. Her eyes were dark with lust as she leaned down to whisper in your ear.
“Such a good girl, letting mommy take control,” then she thrusted the strap inside you.
You braced yourself as you tried to take every inch of the strap. She was slow at first, taking her time to push the strap into you. She could see the way your body tensed up as you tried to take all of it, but the way you squeezed around the toy only served to make her want to tease you even more. Once she was fully inside, she leaned down to suck and nibble at your nipples, leaving behind marks on your chest.
Your moans were strained because of the hand wrapped firmly around your neck but she still thought they were the prettiest sound. Her focus then turned to your pussy, watching as her strap went in and out, your walls clenching around it. She continued to move her hips, slowly pulling the strap out before thrusting it back in. The sight of you beneath her, completely at her mercy and taking her strap so well was something she’d never get tired of.
“You’re doing so well, darling. Taking mommy’s cock like a champ. Isn’t that right, superstar?” she praised, pressing her hand against the belly bulge that formed.
“M-mommy-” you babbled incoherently. She chuckled at your babbling, finding it adorable how your mind was already starting to go blank. She leaned down and kissed you, biting your bottom lip before speaking in a low, sultry tone.
“You can’t even speak, can you sweet girl? Too lost in the pleasure that mommy is giving you?”
“Hmmm…” She chuckled again, amused by your inability to form words. She could tell you were starting to get overwhelmed by everything, your body shaking slightly as she continued to move her hips at a steady pace. Her hand around your neck tightened just a bit more, restricting your air supply even more.
“Such a cute little mess you are right now. Just for me.”
“Fas- faster please!” You begged, suddenly finding your voice again. Her smirk grew wider as she heard your pleas for her to go faster. She was loving the way you were begging for her, it made her want to tease you even more.
“Oh? You want me to go faster, darling?” She asked in a teasing tone, her hips slowing down just to mess with you even more.
“No, don't slow down!” you quickly sobered up from being cockdrunk. She chuckled at your quick change of tone, her hips picking up speed once again. She was enjoying the way you were getting frustrated at her teasing, and the way your body jolted with each thrust was addicting to her.
“Don’t be so impatient, angel. Be a good girl and wait for mommy to give you what you want,” she said before letting go of your neck. She put your legs completely against your chest and started drilling into you. The new position allowed her to hit that spongy spot that made you completely spiral with pleasure.
She already knew your body like the back of her hand and knew exactly where to aim to make you fall apart even more. Her grip on your thighs tightened as she continued to thrust into you with vigor, moving her hand to rub your clit, not giving you a moment to catch your breath.
“Yes! Yes!” You sobbed, feeling yourself getting close to your climax. She loved the way you sobbed, the sound music to her ears. She could tell you were getting close and it only made her want to push you over the edge even faster.
“Are you gonna cum for me, honey? Are you gonna cum all over mommy’s cock?”
“Please?” She chuckled at your needy response, loving the way you begged her to let you cum.
“Such an obedient little girl asking for permission. Go ahead baby, make a mess for mommy.” You finally came undone, gripping onto the bed sheets, moaning Agatha’s name loudly. She continued to thrust into you through your orgasm, prolonging it as much as possible. She loved the way you gripped the sheets and the way your body shook with pleasure. She watched you intently, committing every single expression and sound to memory.
“That’s my good little cock slut,” she slowed her thrusts down, trying to pull out until you pulled her closer.
“Can you…can you keep it inside for a bit?” You asked timidly, your cheeks turning a rosy color. She smirked as she heard your request. You were always so shy about asking for things, even after she’d seen you in some of the most compromising positions.
“Of course, angel,” she said sweetly, leaning down to give you a soft kiss on the forehead before fully burying the strap inside you, letting out a low groan at the sight of your stomach bulging even more from the added pressure. You clung to her, loving the feeling of being full of her. She wrapped her arms around you, holding you close against her. She loved the way you clung to her like a lifeline, and the feeling of your body against hers was intoxicating. She ran her fingers through your hair, soothingly stroking your head as she peppered kisses all over your face.
“You’re so perfect, you know that? My perfect little toy, and I promise no one will take you away from me again.”
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Taglist;) @polaris-likethestar @wandasreallover @oh-no-bummer @phixiesworld @eliscannotdance @venomhimbo @aka-patsy @scoliobean @chlondykebar @marvelwomenarehot0 @daenerys713
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sxgakookie · 2 days ago
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Summary: You're an author giving a talk for your newest published work, when you're asked a question about your recent engagement to Kim Namjoon. The question gives you an opportunity to relive the chance meeting and the sweet moments that made you fall for your fiancé. Genre: Fluff, Smut (softdom! and idol!Namjoon x reader) Rating/Warnings: Adults Only (Strong language, oral [male and female receiving], riding and missionary sex, unprotected sex, multiple orgasms) Word Count: ~5.6k words
“Our conversation is about to wrap, and I know that we have questions from the audience, but there is one more thing I’d like to mention.” The interviewer, Ji-ah, said with a bright, white smile. “Your recent engagement to Kim Namjoon. I just wanted to say congratulations.” 
“Thank you.” You blushed, not expecting your fiancé to come up in the interview. The audience clapped, with smiles, clearly happy to see you happy. 
“I just wanted to ask, what is that story?” Ji-ah asked. “How did the two of you get together?” 
“Well,” You laughed, thinking back to past moments, like flipping pages in your memory book. You look out into the audience, speaking to everyone there with sparkling eyes. “We met in this beautiful city, actually. It was during my first trip here, to Seoul.” 
You stood in your hotel room, slipping on a newly purchased pair of black patent leather heels, perfect for your planned night out. It was something you were looking forward to, after working all day, signing Korean-language copies of your most recent best seller. Ever since landing in Seoul, you had wanted to explore the city, particularly its art scene, as art has always been a love of yours, wherever you traveled. 
After you slipped on the heels, you did a quick check in the mirror, making sure your makeup, hair and dress were to your liking. You threw on a beige coat for the cold, winter winds outside, and made your way down the hall of the hotel, to meet your driver outside. 
Seoul was beautiful at night, especially when the snow was light and fluffy. Flakes collected on the glass of the backseat window, where you watched the buildings pass by. The streets were illuminated by the soft glow of street lights, and, despite the cold temperatures, people were bracing the weather, still out and about. You sent a quick text to your literary agent, to thank her for getting you into this exhibition opening, barely being able to press send before you had arrived. 
The gallery was small and intimate, with bright white walls and dark, black floors, giving it a modern yet still warm feel. When you entered, a polite employee took your coat for you, and offered you a glass of red wine. You accepted with a smile and a ‘thank you’ in your best Korean, before heading off into the crowd. 
If there were anyone there that you knew, you wouldn’t have noticed with the way your eyes latched to the work of Agnes Martin. Beautiful, minimalist works graced the white walls, etches of grids with a human touch. You stood in front of one, its color a deep blue, and allowed yourself to get lost in the work. 
A man, who had been walking the circumference of the room opposite of you, had met you in the middle, at this deep blue piece. He stood next to you, towering over you with his rather tall height and toned body. He raised his own glass of wine to his lips, and caught glimpses of you out of the corner of his eye, noticing you were doing the same. 
“This one is gorgeous, isn't it?” You finally spoke, being the first to break the ice. 
“Yeah.” He nodded, taking another short sip. “It’s so easy to just get lost in her work.” 
“Mhm.” You hummed in agreement. “Like you’re melting into it.” 
The man turned to face you directly, making the size difference even more pronounced. He had sparkling dark eyes, and thick black hair, styled well. He was more casually dressed than many of the people there, and like yourself, one of the younger attendees, though you felt he was a couple years older than you. 
“I’m Namjoon.” He introduced himself with a smile. It was infectious, you noted, as you mimicked with your own smile. Your eyes flashed to his deep dimples on his cheeks. 
“It’s nice to meet you. I’m Y/N.” 
“Y/N… Y/L/N?” Namjoon asked, his eyes widening. “You just published a book here, didn't you?” 
“I did.” You smiled warmly. “I wasn’t expecting anyone to know me here.” 
“Actually, I had read it only like, a day or two after it came out.” Namjoon explained. “Hidden Places, right? Yeah I um, to be honest, I don’t usually read essay collections but your book may have changed my mind.” 
“I’m glad you enjoyed it.” You said. “And also, you’re Kim Namjoon, right? The musician?” 
“Yeah.” He flashed his dimples. “It’s hard to be a stranger sometimes, right?” 
“Definitely.” You laughed. “But, it’s ok. I suppose you get used to it. So, you collect her work?” You asked, your head motioning towards the work. 
“Not yet.” Namjoon said. “That’s why I came tonight, seeing if anything stuck out to me.” 
“And?” You asked. “Did it?” 
“Maybe.” He said, looking back at you. You smiled under his gaze, and there was a moment of pause, as Namjoon’s eyes lingered on you for just a bit. “Do you, uh… Do you collect her work?” 
“Not really.” You shook your head. “But I’m a fan. Just haven’t sold that many books yet, you know?” 
“Right.” He nodded. 
“I read Olivia Laing’s essay about her, and I really became a fan of hers through that.” You mentioned, walking to the next piece together. 
“Yeah?” Namjoon said, his brows raised. “Why?” 
“Because it’s amazing to me how a woman with such a complicated and chaotic life, could create work that’s so… still.” You said, as though talking to yourself. “It’s peaceful. Y’know, sometimes, we say that we try to see ourselves in art, but I don’t think that’s true. I think we try to see our ideal version of ourselves in art. So if we live messy, chaotic lives, we’re drawn to something like this. Peaceful. Simple. Because that’s what we’d like our lives to be.” 
Namjoon listened intensely, his focus on your lips, as if he were reading the words you were speaking directly. 
“Is that what you’d like your life to be?” He asked, with another sip of his wine. 
“Maybe.” You shrugged, before realizing how long you’ve talked. “I’m babbling, sorry.” You blushed.
“No, it’s great.” He confessed. “I think you’re right. Maybe that’s why I like her work, too.. I think I’d like my life to be more simple.” 
“Same.” You laughed together, and sipped your wine. 
You continued chatting throughout the night, content to meet a friend in a new city. Namjoon carried himself with a warmth to him that was so genuine, and it radiated throughout the whole room. Many people came up to speak to him, and you couldn’t tell if he knew each one or not, because he spoke to each person as though they had been friends for years. It was nice, you thought, to meet someone so personable in a world that seems so isolated. 
The night was coming to a close, and tipsy patrons were making their way out of the gallery. Namjoon walked out with you, both of you with your hands in your coat pockets. You could see your breath in the cold air, and your driver parked parallel on the street. 
“It was lovely meeting you. Thanks for keeping me company tonight.” You smiled. 
“Any time.” He responded. “Hey, um… How long are you in the city for?” 
“About a week or so,” You said. “I’m here for work, but my nights are free. Next weekend, I’m leaving for some events in Busan.” 
“While you’re here, I was thinking I could show you around.” Namjoon said. “If you’d like to.” 
“Yeah, for sure.” You nodded. “That would be great.” 
You exchanged numbers, and Namjoon gave a promise to call you. He stood on the sidewalk, and watched you run through the falling snow to the black SUV that was waiting for you. When you closed the door, you could see that he was still there, smiling at you and waving you goodbye. 
“Wow.” Ji-ah smiled. “What a chance meeting, right?” 
“It was.” You said gently. “To be honest, I assumed we’d both be too busy and forget to call each other, or I just thought, ‘Hey, I have a new friend in a new city. Sure, he’s cute, but whatever. It’s fine.’” You laughed, and the audience laughed too. 
“But, he obviously did call.” Ji-ah said with a grin. 
“He did.” You nodded. “Just like he said he would, the very next day. And me, being as oblivious as I am, didn’t realize we weren’t just making plans to ‘hang out.’ I never even considered he had more in mind.” 
“You didn’t realize it could’ve been a date?” Ji-ah laughed, alongside you and the audience. 
“No!” You giggled. “I seriously thought he was just my new friend.” 
“So… What happened?” Ji-ah asked. 
Namjoon glanced at the time on his phone, knowing he was early. The reservations weren’t for another fifteen minutes, and as he watched his own breath escape his lips, he cursed his own excitement for bringing him here this early. But, he wanted to make sure you weren’t waiting for him so, here he was, alone and cold in front of the restaurant. 
He watched as people went about their evening, trying to take his mind off the chills he had. Kids across the street laughed as they played in front of the convenience store, where two men in suits ate instant ramen from cheap to-go bowls, seated in front of the window. Namjoon noted their loose ties, and wondered if they worked together, getting food to decompress after a hard day, or if they just found each other in the same place, at the same time. 
“Hey!” You yelled with a wave, snapping Namjoon out of his daze. You were on the other side of the street, waiting for the traffic light to change. He smiled and waved back, and watched how your hair bounced with every fast step you took across the crosswalk. 
“Hey.” He greeted. “How was your day?” 
“Busy.” You smiled. “Yours?” 
“The same.” He said. “I think it’s almost time for our table to be ready. Let’s get you in from the cold.” 
Namjoon opened the door for you, motioning you in with a playfully exaggerated wave of his arm. You giggled at his antics, and entered the warm, dimly lit restaurant. The building was beautiful, clearly upscale, and not a casual “hang out” spot, like you had assumed. 
“Table for Kim Namjoon.” The host smiled politely, gathering a set of menus in his hands. “Right this way, please.” 
Namjoon followed behind you as the two of you made your way to your table; an intimate, private table near the back of the restaurant. Namjoon politely helped you into your seat, before sitting down across from you. You thanked the host, and then began looking over the pages of the menu. Namjoon, however, was looking at you; the woman who had occupied his mind for the last twenty-four hours. 
“I thought about what you said,” Namjoon finally spoke, causing you to glance at him. “About our lives, and if they’re messy and chaotic, we seek out the opposite.” 
“Yeah? You remember my babbling?” You chuckled. 
“I agree with your babbling.” Namjoon corrected with a dimpled smile. “I think, with my own life, I search for peaceful things to try to balance out the chaos.” 
“And are you successful?” You ask. 
Namjoon just smiled warmly, staring at you, wondering how it’s possible for a woman to be that beautiful. “I’m trying.”  He finally answered. 
Throughout the dinner, you were lost in conversation with Namjoon, and Namjoon was struck by just how easy it felt to be with you. The two of you laughed, enjoyed wine and food, and Namjoon knew with his best instincts that you were someone special. Intelligent, personable, beautiful. The ingredients of the girl of his dreams. He knew you were barely an acquaintance, and he cursed himself for always jumping the gun when it came to love. But he also knew how he felt with you, and he couldn’t ignore it. He wanted to get closer. 
“…So, yeah, I have to go to Busan soon.” You said. “I’m sure it’s lovely there, but I have to admit, I just love Seoul so much.” 
“You could come back.” Namjoon suggested, trying to play it off as a nonchalant thought. “When you’re done with work, just come back and spend some more time here.” 
“Maybe.” You smiled at the thought. “I’ll think about it.” 
“And did you think about it?” Ji-ah questioned, leaning in to hear your answer. 
“I did.” You nodded with a laugh. “But, Namjoon isn’t known for his patience, and came to visit me in Busan instead.” 
“Are you serious?” Ji-ah laughed alongside you. “He went all the way there just to see you again?” 
“He really did. I thought he was out of his mind.” You joked, making the crowd laugh too. “But, in all honesty, it was maybe the most romantic gesture I’ve ever had, and it sealed the deal for a first real date.” 
“Excuse me, Ms. Y/L/N, could you sign my book please? I’m a big fan.” 
“Of course!” You said, not looking up at the man in front of the book signing table as you took his paperback copy. “Who can I make it out to?” 
“Did you really forget me that quickly?” 
You furrowed your brows and looked up, to see Namjoon standing at your table with a goofy, shy grin on his face, and a bouquet of flowers in his hand. Your own smile grew and your eyes widened in surprise as you took him in. 
“Oh my God, seriously? What are you doing here?” You laughed. 
“I wanted you to sign my book.” Namjoon playfully answered. “I…um, I wanted to surprise you, too.” 
“You really made a trip down here, and stood in line to surprise me? It definitely worked, I’m surprised.” You giggled. “And… you have flowers?” 
“For you.” He said, his nerves showing. “For um… It’s to congratulate you, on your book and everything.” 
“Thank you.” You said softly, standing up to take the flowers. “I don’t know what to say, that’s so sweet of you.”  
“We can chat in a minute?” He suggested. “I think I’ve taken up my time in line, some women behind me are getting upset.” 
“Ok.” You giggled. “Let me sign your book though, you came all this way.” 
Namjoon watched with complete adoration in his brown eyes as you scribbled a note onto the page of the book. 
“I’ll meet you in a little bit, ok?” 
“Ok.” He nodded, and walked to the side of the bookstore to look at your note. 
“To Joonie, the sweetest man I know. Love, Y/N.”  
Namjoon grinned ear to ear like a schoolboy with a crush. He was nervous to come to Busan, worried that it was too much, and that you wouldn’t like the gesture. But with the validation little note and a soft laugh, he knew he did the right thing. He watched as you signed the books of the rest of the people in line, and listened to each of them compliment your work. You handled yourself so gracefully, he let his mind drift into places it rarely goes with anyone. Could he let you into his world? The public, the paparazzi… Could you handle it? He can only protect you from so much, with so many things out of his control. It was a long way to that point, but he thought just maybe, you would be the right one for him.  
When you were finished, you went over to him with a wave, just as you had the night of your dinner together. 
“What did you want to chat about?” You asked with a sweet tone. 
“I know this might be a lot but,” He paused, looking into your eyes as you looked up at him. “I’d really like to take you out. If you want to.” 
Your smile slowly creeped on your face, and blush painted the apples of your cheeks. 
“Yeah.” You nodded. “I’d like that.” 
“So yeah, I went out with him.” You smiled, recalling the story. “That first date turned into the two of us going out every night that I was in Busan. We would just meet at places in the city, and spend as much time together as we could.” 
“That’s so cute.” Ji-ah cooed. “I still can’t get over that he went all that way just to see you.” 
“Me either.” You laughed. “But I’m thankful every day that he did.”
“So then, how did the two of you finally become a couple?” Ji-ah asked. “You’re running around Busan together, having fun, getting to know each other… and then what?” 
“Well…” You said, blushing brightly at the memories of that night. 
“I think you’ll love this wine.” Namjoon smiled, walking over to you with a bottle in hand while you sat on the sofa. His hotel suite was more like an apartment, with a spacious living room. He asked you to stay over for the night, after you extended your business trip into a personal vacation, just to stay with Namjoon. You knew it would sound crazy to your friends back home, but being with him just felt right to you. It came so naturally. 
“Yeah?” You answered, watching him sit down next to you and pour a glass. “I really love white wines like this.” 
“I know.” He smiled. Namjoon knew so much about you now. Your favorite foods and drinks, the books you liked and the ones you didn’t. He knew details about your family, and the funny stories of your friends. He told you about himself, too, opening up in a way that usually never comes easy to him outside of his music. 
You snuggled into him with a throw blanket tossed across your legs. Namjoon rested his arm on the back of the couch, allowing you easier access to rest on his shoulder. He smiled when you did, and when you looked up at him, he gave you a soft, slow kiss on the lips. 
You had only kissed Namjoon a couple of times. Your first kiss was at the end of your first date, when he walked you back to your room, and asked permission before moving in a little closer. Ever since, he’s stolen kisses from you whenever he could. He was obsessed with your lips, and how he felt connecting them to his own. His heart raced, and every part of him was begging to get closer. 
“Joonie…” You hummed into the kiss. “I’m happy I’m here tonight.” 
“Me too.” He smiled, deepening the kiss. You gently placed your wine glass down on the coffee table in front of you, so that you could rest your hands on his strong chest, over the soft fabric of his sweatshirt. Namjoon reacted to the touch by placing his own hands on your waist, daring to hold you where your shirt raised up just enough where he could directly feel your skin. 
The kiss never broke. But you found yourself growing braver, moving in closer, wrapping your arms around his neck and letting him position you onto his lap to straddle him. You had never felt so close to him, and both of your bodies were pleading for more…more…more…
“Y/N,” He murmured in the kiss. “I hope you know, I’m not expecting anything tonight.” 
“I know.” You said, kissing him again. “But, do you want to?” 
“I do.” He whispered onto your lips. “But only if you’re ready for it. We don’t have to rush.” 
“But I want to.” You whispered back. “I want you. So, why wait?” 
Namjoon responded with a deep breath for his nerves, followed by a passionate kiss. Deeper and stronger than the ones you’ve felt him give you before. He lifted you off the couch, allowing your legs to wrap around his waist as your arms stayed draped around his shoulders. He carried you through the hotel room, into the bedroom, where he laid you down delicately.
He stared down at you, smiling up at him from the bed. Namjoon quickly tossed his sweatshirt off and onto the floor, revealing his toned body, before helping you out of your own shirt. He swooped down and began kissing down your neck and onto the top of your breasts, his large hands cupped them through your bra. “Can I see a little more of you, honey?” 
“Please.” You answered. Namjoon wasted no time unhooking the back of your bra as you raised yourself for him to do so, and pulled the straps from your arms to show your chest. Before you had time to react, Namjoon’s lips were back on your body, licking and kissing your soft breasts, excited to have them to himself. 
“Baby, you’re so fucking beautiful.” He whispered, in between taking a perky nipple in between his lips. “So… Fucking… Beautiful…” 
“Joonie.” You whimpered. His trail of wet kisses moved down your stomach, until he reached the cotton fabric of your lounge shorts. 
“Can I?” He asked, a finger impatiently on the waistband. You nodded and hummed a ‘mhm’ in consent, lifting your hips to help him reveal just your panties. 
“You’re already so wet for me, honey.” He teased, showing his dimples. Namjoon kissed up your thighs, building anticipation with each soft, wet, slow kiss to your skin. You whined, needing him at your core. He wrapped a strong arm around each thigh, keeping you held down for him. “A little wet mark on your pretty panties, and I’ve barely done anything.” 
“Please.” You whined, and Namjoon pushed the wet fabric to the side, locking eyes with you as he slowly began applying long licks to your opening, before adding pressure and quickening movements of his tongue. You threw your head back onto the bed and let out a gasp, responding to the expert flicks of his tongue by grabbing onto the dark locks of his hair. 
“Joonie… Joonie… Please, baby…” 
He slipped a finger into your opening, breeching you for the first time, as his tongue focused on your clit. Namjoon felt your legs shake, encouraging him to add another finger, listening to the pretty noises leaving your lips. His own length was hard and pressed against the fabric of his sweatpants, aching to be released, but he ignored his own needs. This was about you; the way you gripped the sheets, chanted his name, and tasted so, incredibly sweet. The way you squeezed your eyes shut so tightly when his fingers massaged the places you needed him most, and the way you held his head in place as he gave your sensitive bud loving rolls of his tongue. Namjoon could both feel and hear your orgasm; the heaviness of your breath, the tightening of your opening, the way you dripped on his tongue. 
“That’s my girl.” He praised, nibbling your still trembling legs. He slowly pulled out his long fingers, making you shudder. 
You watched as he stood up to remove his own pants, but before he was able to, you rolled on your tummy to be eye-level with his erection, looking up at his face innocently. Your hands were already at his waistband. 
“Honey, you don’t have to.” 
“But I told you, Joonie. I want you.” You responded, slowly helping him lower his pants, letting them fall to his ankles, followed by his underwear. He kicked them to the side, watching with anticipation as your lips were level with his length. 
You started slow, just content to tease him, and to really feel the size of him. He was large, and you knew he’d fill you well. You began to kiss his sensitive, leaking head, tasting the drops on your tongue. Your lips pressed to him, working a trail down the shaft, then back up again. Namjoon’s large hand was now on your head, not forcing, but gently encouraging you to touch him. His breath was heavy, deep inhales and exhales that were audible as he grew more aroused with how you seemingly worshipped his cock. You looked up at him as you took your time working him into your mouth, your tongue caressing his most sensitive areas. 
“Babygirl… Fuck…” Namjoon’s deep voice groaned, and his hand guiding your movements. A steady back and forth, with your fingers wrapped around his balls, giving him just enough pressure to be pleasurable. “Just like that, baby… Can you go a little further for me?… Good girl.” 
Namjoon had never felt so turned on by a woman before. The way you made eye contact with him, and enthusiastically worked to please him the way that he had you, made him feel so wanted and equally aroused. His eyes flickered back and forth from your lips, watching the way his cock disappeared and reappeared, wet and throbbing, to then looking at your curves. Naked on the bed, he could see the dip of your waist, your hips and soft skin of your bottom. Every inch of you, he wanted to kiss. As he let his thoughts drift, he could feel himself go closer to the edge. 
“Wait, hold on honey.” He stopped you.“You’re gonna make me cum, baby.” 
Namjoon leaned down and gave you a quick kiss before finally meeting you on the bed. He laid down, resting his head on the pillow, and letting you straddle him and touch your lips to his. You could feel his cock pushing up against your opening, and Namjoon sighed feeling your skin on his. 
Keeping your lips close to his, but not quite touching, creating a heavy tension, you gently slid his tip into you, causing both of you to let out a quiet noise at the feeling. You sank down on him, working yourself to his length, and Namjoon held your hips, allowing you to take control and be comfortable. You felt so full, every inch of him filling you perfectly. It was as though your body was made just for him to touch, taste and fuck. 
“Fuck, Y/N…” He breathed out. You raised yourself up, and began moving on his length, switching from bouncing to grinding. Namjoon kept one hand on your hip, and place another between your thighs to touch your clit. 
“Joonie… Oh my God, Joonie… Don’t fucking stop.” You whined loudly, throwing your head back. Your hands rested on his chest to keep yourself steady, but you were coming undone again. Your pace quickened as you unraveled, your hips snapping fast as his cock reached right where you needed him most. As sensitive as you were, you both knew it wouldn’t take long for you to hit another high. 
“Cum for me, angel.” Namjoon’s deep voice dripped with arousal. “I’ve got you, baby. Just let go.” 
Your eyes shut tightly and your lips parted in pleasure, and Namjoon throbbed as you came again. He watched as your breasts bounced with every movement, and took in the feeling of your soft skin on his. As soon as you came down, he gently wrapped you in his arms, and laid you down on the bed, knowing you were almost at your limit. 
“Wanna love you just like this.” He whispered, kissing your neck as he took his place on top, resting in between your legs. His tip brushing against your entrance. “Are you too sensitive, honey? Can you take a little more?” 
“I can take it.” You whispered back, smiling as he continued painting your neck with kisses. 
“That’s my pretty girl.” He praised, sliding himself into you gently, listening for noises of discomfort. But none came, and as he bottomed out into you, he groaned and tucked his face into your neck to mark your skin and whisper in your ear. “Your pussy’s so good, babygirl. So fucking beautiful… so tight and wet just for me, aren’t you?” 
Namjoon learned that night that your neck was particularly sensitive, and you loved being kissed there. As he thrusted into you, he littered your skin with nibbles, licks, kisses and love marks. Each deep, hard hit and mark on your skin was proof that he felt something for you. Was it love? Not quite…at least, not yet. But he was falling, and he was prepared to make love to you throughout the night if that’s what it took to make you understand. You were meant to be his, that much was sure. The way you held him, kissed him, touched him, spoke to him, pleasured him was everything he’s ever wanted in a partner and a lover. 
“So close, angel.” His voice said softly, giving you a gentle kiss. 
“Cum inside me.” You whispered against his lips, deepening the kiss. “Fill me up, Joonie. Don’t fucking stop, want you to cum deep-” 
“Oh… Oh…” He groaned, his length throbbing against your walls. “Y/N…. Y/N, baby…. OH, FUCK… I… Ah…” 
You held his body close to yours as he buried his face in your neck, coming down from his high. His tanned skin was sweaty, his heart pounding and his breath heavy, as was yours. Namjoon couldn’t remember the last time, or any time, he had made love that intensely to anyone. He couldn’t remember any time he had chanted a woman’s name, or felt so desired, or was held so lovingly. It was beyond sex; it was intimacy. 
Afterwards, laying next to you, he pulled you in and the two of you drifted off to sleep as he held you in his arms, as though protective over you. As if, if he were to let go, you’d slip away. So he kept you close, and kept you safe. 
The next morning, sunlight peeked through the drawn curtains of the bedroom, illuminating everything in warmth. Namjoon had woken up before you, choosing to hold you as you slept, playing gently with your hair and occasionally caressing your bare back as you rested on his chest. Namjoon realized he could easily wake up like this, nude under the  covers with you in his arms, forever. 
After a little while, your eyelids fluttered awake. Namjoon pressed a gentle kiss to your forehead, and snuggled you closer. 
“Hi.” He whispered delicately. “How do you feel?” 
“Amazing.” You replied in a hushed tone, still coming out of sleep. “Last night was… yeah.” 
“Yeah.” He smiled, his hand absentmindedly tracing your skin. “I’m really happy right now. With you.” 
“I’m happy with you too.” 
You looked up at him, still resting on his chest. Namjoon raised a hand to your face, running a thumb along the outline of your jaw, appreciating how lucky he felt in that moment. Your hair was tousled, you wore no clothes or makeup, and this was the most beautiful he had ever seen you; well rested and happy, after a night of love making. 
“Be with me.” He whispered, the words leaving his lips before he could catch them. 
“Be with you?” You repeated with sparkling eyes, making sure you heard his request correctly. 
“Yeah.” He confirmed. “I think we should be together. What do you think?” 
“Yeah.” You smiled. “I think so, too.” 
Namjoon smiled wide, showing his dimples that you’ve grown to adore so much. He sealed the deal with a soft kiss, hoping it was the first of many together. 
“…So, I spent some time at his hotel, and when we woke up the next morning, we just knew.” You explained, not giving too much information about what happened behind closed doors that night. 
“You just knew.” Ji-ah smiled, clearly giddy with the fairytale love story.
After the interview ended, and the audience had dispersed, the only person waiting for you was Namjoon. He stood in the empty auditorium by the stage where you had spoken just minutes ago, waiting to take you back home. 
“You ready?” You asked, making your way to him. 
“Yeah.” He replied. Namjoon’s eyes were sparkling and warm, filled to the brim with love for you. “Come here.” 
“What?” You smiled, before giggling as he picked you up and gently sat you down on the edge of the stage, where he could stand between your legs and look up at you. “Why’d you do that, Joonie?” You laughed. 
“I just wanted to look at you.” He said softly. You blushed under his adoring gaze. 
Namjoon had been in the audience tonight. It was your first event after the publishing of your most recent book, a essay collection on falling in love. It revealed your relationship to Namjoon to the world, after several years of dating in private. When he proposed to you one night in total surprise, during a private dinner party with all of your friends and his in attendance, that was when you both decided to go public; when you knew for sure that you both were in love for the long haul. 
Listening to you publicly describe the beginnings of your relationship, brought a flood of memories back to his mind. He wouldn’t change anything, and he was so thankful that somehow, he managed to have you for himself. He felt like he wanted to say a million things, but only one sentence seemed to come out. 
“I love you, Y/N.” 
“I love you too, Joonie.” You replied, meeting him halfway to kiss his lips. 
95 notes · View notes
yanderefarm · 3 days ago
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Can I asked for Emil's hand in marriage oh wait we already have that reaction to you wanting a divorce, or realization that you had fallen out of love with him but is only staying to keep your family safe (like you try to keep up the loving but he can tell)
I think maybe he'll try to isolate you so you can only look at him and will warm up to him again?
Or to be more cruel, tell him you fell in love with someone else...
cw;; angst, hurt no comfort,
let's make emil sad as a treat.not really the yandere aspect i think you were expecting. he definitely does keep you locked on the grounds without much freedom but he can't make himself take away whatever happiness you can find.
still male reader he calls u queen bc ur his husband.
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he truly shouldn't have been surprised when you fell in love with someone else. he knew in his heart you only stayed with him because of your family but all the time you spent by his side had let him get comfortable. oh he was so comfortable with you, he let you closer to him than even his own mother had been. he let someone other than her into his heart for the first time in 20 years and now you were throwing him away. it hurt. it hurt more than the worst injury he had sustained. it hurt all the more that he couldn't be angry with you. he knew he could threaten your family again, force you to love him again but he knew that would just make you hate him.
"i can allow you a concubine however you must remain married to me. if you take a female concubine and she gets pregnant the baby will become my heir. you must continue your duties as queen and your concubine will not be permitted to attend important royal events. are these terms to your liking?"
"... i almost expected you to be more emotional about this. but i suppose we were both just playing our parts in the end, huh?"
"... that's correct. any romance you might have gleamed from our relationship was just part of the farce."
"hah.. i knew you didn't have a heart. can we add the addendum that i won't be required to share a room with you anymore? I'd like to move into the queen's palace."
the pen in his hand snapped spilling ink all over the new contract you had been drafting together.
"ugh emil please don't go flying off the handle. i just want to try to quietly live my life with him.. it won't get in the way of my duties."
you talk to him so casually, if anyone else had talked like that to him they would have lost their tongue. why don't you realize how much he loves you? maybe you do, maybe you find his love disgusting. he knows he's not worth loving, his own mother abandoned him to die. it takes all his will to stay calm as he crumples up the ruined parchment and throws it away. he pulls out a fresh sheet of paper and begins writing the contract again.
"i hope you remember you're not allowed to leave the grounds without my permission. I'll be assigning you new knights as well since you'll be in a different palace."
"i suppose i shouldn't complain about the new watch dogs since you're letting me stay in the queen's palace. I'm glad you're being understanding."
"... anything my queen asks for."
he could never bring himself to say i love you, the words like acid on his tongue. this was the closest he could come to and it wasn't enough. it would never be enough.
78 notes · View notes
justagalwhowrites · 20 hours ago
Text
Halcyon - Ch. 18: I Fucking Heard You
You and Joel adjust to life apart. A continuation of Halcyon from the prologue through Ch. 17, a modern no outbreak AU TLOU fic found on Tumblr here.
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Pairing: Joel Miller x Female Reader
Warnings: Angst. Modern No Outbreak AU, No use of Y/N, Slow burn, 18+ only, Minors DNI
Length: 8.3k
AO3 | Main Master List | Prologue | Previous Chapter
January, 2008 
He was going to actually do it this time. 
Joel was sitting outside your apartment building, drumming against the steering wheel of his truck, desperate to work out some of the anxious energy that kept building and building inside of him. 
But he just couldn’t keep it to himself anymore, he was done trying to pretend like he didn’t love you. He was going to say it. 
Actually say it. 
For real this time. 
He’d ignored it as long as he could manage, shoved it down and tried to kill it by going out with practically every girl in school for even longer. He didn’t want to ruin things between the two of you, he was terrified of that more than he was of just about anything else. You mattered more to him than anyone, he couldn’t lose you, especially not to his own stupidity. But he couldn’t keep how he felt separate from your friendship, either. He loved you so much he felt like he was choking on it, like it had to go somewhere outside of himself or he was going to lose his damn mind with it. 
So he’d finally worked up the courage to tell you. Rip the bandaid off. Maybe it wouldn’t blow up in his face, maybe… maybe you’d tell him you felt the same way. Maybe you’d grab him and kiss him the way he pretended you would when he thought about you when he was alone. Maybe you’d tell him you changed your mind about going across the country, maybe you’d go to college here in Austin and you’d move in together and he’d get to be next to you all the time. 
This, he decided, was the perfect night for it. There was a meteor shower he’d heard about on the news and he talked you into going to the park to watch it. It seemed right, telling you this with the whole galaxy stretched out in front of you. Things were changing tonight. He could feel it. 
He watched as you more fell than climbed out of your window, landing in the bushes and clumsily pulling yourself free of them before dashing to his truck. 
“What are you wearin’ Goldie Girl?” He teased as you got in, the collar of a second sweatshirt visible below your hoodie, the sleeves unusually bulky. 
“What!” You asked, brows raised. “It’s January! It’s cold! And… I couldn’t risk waking up my mom by going to the coat closet for my jacket.” 
Joel snorted. 
“I’m counting on you to keep me warm out there, Miller,” you said, buckling up as Joel started driving, his heart beating out a frantic rhythm against his ribs. “This whole thing was your idea.” 
“I got blankets,” he said. “Not gonna let you freeze.” 
As he drove, the two of you caught up on everything that had happened in the few hours it had been since you’d last seen him - no time at all, really, but it always dragged for Joel. It seemed like he was always just marking time until he got to see you again. He was almost always with you until curfew. Then, awake for an hour, sleep for eight, wake up and then just an hour before he was at your door again, picking you up to take you to school. Then it was three and a half hours until lunch - which you always had with him - then just an hour until your single shared class - newspaper, which he’d joined to make you happy - and then two hours until school was done and he was with you again.
You told Joel about Anna’s issues in school and Joel told you about his mom’s frustrations with his own grades. You rolled your eyes at him but smiled a little as you scolded him and told him you’d help him study, he just had to actually do it and he smiled and nodded along because he knew that. You were always trying to bring out the best in him. You were the only one who could.
“Oh, and, there’s the one really big thing,” you said as Joel parked his truck. 
“I got a big thing, too,” he said. Your eyes lit up at that, always ready to be excited for him. “Yours first.” 
“OK. So, you know Steve?” You asked, brows raised.
“Steve,” Joel frowned, trying to picture someone the both of you knew named Steve. 
“Yeah, Steve,” you said. “You know, Steve…” 
“You can keep saying his name all you want, I still don’t know who you mean,” he laughed. 
“Steve,” you said again, incredulous. “The yearbook editor, Steve.” 
“Oh!” He said, picturing the guy now. “Yeah, OK, Steve. Right. What about him?” 
“Well,” you said sitting up a little straighter. “He asked me out.” 
Joel just stared at you for a moment, blinking in shock. His stomach sank. He had the strange feeling that he was falling from some great height, not unlike what he felt when riding a roller coaster with you except there was no safety harness to keep him from tumbling to the earth. 
“What?” He said eventually. 
“Steve asked me out,” you said, chin up like you were proud. “I actually have a date, I’m not just hanging out with you for a change!” 
“You said yes?” He asked, his mouth dry. 
“Yeah, of course I did! We’re going to go to the movies,” you said, beaming, before you realized that Joel apparently wasn’t reacting the way you expected. You cocked your head, frowning. “Why, should I not have? Is there something wrong with him?” 
“No,” he said quickly. “No, sure he’s fine, I just… didn’t know you liked ‘im is all.” 
“I mean,” you shrugged. “He’s not bad looking and he’s funny and he’s smart and he writes… We have a lot in common. What’s not to like?”
Of course. Of course you’d go for someone more like you, someone who was smart like you and didn’t fucking struggle in school like he did, someone who wrote like you instead of just fucked around with their entire life like he did. Why on Earth would you be interested in him? Why on Earth would you waste your fucking time on someone like him when you were so clearly meant for so much better? Not that Steve was fucking good enough for you. No one was, Joel included. 
“Right,” he said. He thought he might throw up. 
“What?” You said, laughing awkwardly. “Are you OK? You look weird…” 
“Fine,” he said quickly. “Just… You know. Be careful, guys can be assholes.” 
“Yeah, you’d know,” you teased. 
“No, I mean it,” Joel said. “Sure he seems like a decent guy but…” 
“But?” You asked, brows raised. 
“He don’t deserve you,” he said. 
You smiled then, gently, reaching out and putting your hand on his thigh and giving his leg a squeeze. 
“You’re sweet,” you said. “And you’re worried about nothing. It’s high school. It’s a date. It’s not like we’re getting married. Oh, maybe we could all go out together sometime! Once you pick the new flavor of the week, I mean. I’ll actually have someone to go with now.” 
“Yeah,” Joel said, forcing himself to smile. “Yeah, that’d be fun.” 
He gathered up the blankets and set them out in the bed of his truck and he helped pull you into it, settling in just as the meteor shower started overhead. You pressed yourself close to him and he could feel the heat of your breath on his skin and fuck he wished it could have been him you said yes to. 
“Oh, what was your thing?” You asked, looking up at him from where your head was nestled against his chest. “Sorry, I didn’t mean to derail the conversation…” 
“Oh, uh,” Joel said, scrambling for something - anything - to say. “Tommy… decided to take after his big brother and go out for football next year.” 
“Nice!” You said, looking back at the sky again. “You’re going to put him through his paces before, right? Teach him how to take a hit?” 
Joel scoffed. 
“Course,” he said. “What kind of big brother would I be if I didn’t.” 
The two of you watched stars streak across the sky for hours. Joel set an alarm on his phone because he knew you’d sleep through one on yours and you snuggled close to him under the blankets. 
“You were right,” you said, voice sleepy. “This is really cool. Thanks for talking me into it.” 
“Course,” he said, resisting the urge to kiss you. “I’d do anything for you… Love you, Goldie.” 
You smiled against him. 
“Love you, too,” you said. 
He held you close and wondered what it would be like if you meant it the same way he did.  
***
September, 2023
“Aunt Goldie?” 
You looked up from painting Sarah’s toenails to see her watching you, her head cocked and a serious expression on her face, one that was partially obscured by the facial mask you’d applied before you’d started in on her nails during your at home spa day. 
“Niece Sarah?”
“Why are you and my dad still in a fight?” She asked. 
You just blinked for a moment, taking a moment to process her question. It caught you off guard - not that it should have. Things had been very different since her birthday party months earlier and Sarah was a smart kid. It made sense that she would notice. You just hadn’t prepared an answer - something that felt like a massive oversight now that it was in front of you. 
“What makes you think that we’re in a fight?” You said eventually, putting the brush back in the jar of polish before you dripped on the floor. 
“You never come over anymore,” she said. 
“Well, I live back at my own house now,” you said, starting in on her toes again. 
“Duh,” Sarah said and you could practically hear her eyes roll. “But even before you and Ellie lived with us you came over all the time and you don’t anymore. And my dad never comes here with me, he always just drops me off.” 
“We both have a lot going on,” you said, happy you had an excuse to not be looking her in the eye. “It’s not…” 
“I’m not stupid, you know,” she said and you looked up then, her gaze serious as she watched you closely. “I know something happened.” 
You finished her pinky toe and closed the nail polish with a sigh. 
“Sarah…” 
“My dad’s been acting different,” she cut you off, a little heated, and you frowned. 
“Different?” You asked. “Different how?” 
“He’s just…” she sighed. “I think he’s sad. He tries to pretend like he’s not and that everything’s normal but I know him and I can tell. I don’t know what happened but I think it’s stupid that you guys just aren’t talking or whatever right now. I wish you’d just figure it out.” 
You looked at Sarah, at her wide and hopeful eyes, and tried to figure out how to explain this to her.
How did you tell her that you weren’t sure how to move past how her father - the person you loved most in the world - apparently saw you? That you needed space from him because you couldn’t let yourself revolve around him anymore? That it wasn’t good for you to have your life so intertwined with someone who would, inevitably, go on to have a life outside of you?
It had been a strange two months, not seeing and even really speaking to Joel. 
The first day was strange. It was just you and Ellie and your cat in your house that had done nothing beyond collect dust in the months since your niece was born. 
Being there, alone, with Ellie made you nervous and you were sure she could sense it in you somehow, like she knew you were unworthy and letting her down by taking her away from the one fully competent person in her life because you were too selfish and couldn’t move past your own shit. 
To make matters worse, your mind kept going back to Joel and the strange life the two of you had made together in the months you’d lived with him. He’d become built into everything, the rhythm of your life out of sync without him and Sarah there, too. You missed both of them so much it hurt but it was especially painful with Joel. You missed the way the two of you would navigate around each other in the kitchen in the morning, his hand so often finding your hip or the small of your back when he needed to reach around you or move past you. The way you could hold your toothbrush out and he would put the right amount of toothpaste on it before going to bed at the end of the day. The way he would just open your beer for you when he got you one, because - while you didn’t need him to - he knew you didn’t like getting your nails under the pull tab of the can or twisting the cap on the bottles. 
Joel knew you. You’d been married a decade and you weren’t sure your husband had ever known you the way Joel did. He’d certainly never done things like that for you. Joel did. That was part of why that moment after Sarah’s party had caught you so off guard. You’d thought you meant more to him than that, that you were more than one of the women he’d pick up, have fun with for a night or a week or a month and then cast aside.
But then he shoved you against the wall in his kitchen and fucked you with his fingers like all you were to him was something physical, telling you how no one could fuck you like he did, as though that was the only thing that would matter. 
You tried to shove that keen loneliness that came with missing him down by focusing on Ellie and pouring your every thought onto the page. You just kept your niece as close as possible all the time, keeping her strapped to your chest as you sat at your desk to write until it felt like your brain was going numb or got your house cleaned up or made dinner or went for a walk just to get out of your own head for a bit. You hoped that all but smothering her with closeness would keep her from realizing the coldly obvious thing that was your desperation and it was a relief when you took her to the rehab facility to pick up Anna. 
This time, things with Anna and Ellie were smooth. Or as close to smooth as you could get with someone coming out of months of inpatient therapy and an infant. Anna seemed nervous with Ellie at first, hesitating and double checking everything, her eyes going from her daughter’s face to yours like she wanted your approval for how she was doing. 
“This is right?” She asked as she held the bottle while cradling Ellie in the way that Joel had shown you. 
“Yeah,” you smiled gently. “You’ve got it.” 
“Yeah,” Anna said, looking back down at Ellie and smiling a little, too. “I think I do.” 
You pulled back slowly then. 
The first two weeks, you were more hands on, doing at least 50% of the work of caring for Ellie, going with Anna daily to meetings and therapy, writing as much as you could and keeping Joel far from your mind. 
But, after a little while, Anna started to naturally take on more and more. The two of you went from splitting the overnight Ellie care to Anna handling everything. Slowly but surely, she took over everything and, by week five, all you were doing was watching as she cared for her daughter. 
“If you wanted to move back home, I think I’m ready,” she said one afternoon as she fed Ellie while you made some tweaks to the plot of your novel in your story notebook. 
“Are you sure?” You asked, setting your pen down, eyebrows drawn together. 
“Yeah,” she said. “Why, do you think I’m not?” 
“No!” You said quickly. “No, I think you’re doing great. I just don’t want you to feel like I’m abandoning you.” 
“It won’t be like it was before,” she smiled, a twinge of sadness in her expression as she did. “I know her now. I know me now. I’ve got this, I don’t need to hold you back anymore.” 
“You’re not…” you began, but she cut you off. 
“I am,” she said. “You have a life outside of me and her and you put it on hold because I couldn’t get my shit together…” 
“You just needed help…” you interjected, but she ignored you.
“…And I’m so sorry I put that on you,” she continued. “I’ll owe you forever for taking care of my daughter when I couldn’t. But we don’t need your help now, you can go back to your life. It’s OK. I promise.” 
You didn’t have the heart to tell her that, really, you didn’t have a life. Outside of your work, your book and your cat, you had nothing. You needed her more than she needed you. 
You’d tried to start getting a life of your own, getting out of the house and doing things on your own, well before this conversation. The first time you’d left Anna alone with Ellie for a few hours, you’d gone out with Tim, the man you’d met at Sarah’s party. 
It was a fine date. It would have been a great one had it been someone else but all you could think about when you looked at him was Joel forcing you to come on his fingers in his kitchen as he said over and over that no one else could make you feel like he did. 
Things fizzled out quickly when you realized it wasn’t something you could really get over. Since then, you hadn’t bothered with Tinder or trying to reach out to Alyssa or anyone else in town. The only person you’d really texted outside of Sarah and Anna was Gale. 
You hadn’t responded to anything your estranged husband had sent since you’d moved in with Joel but then, one day, he texted you something that made you respond. 
I didn’t want you to find this out on Facebook, that seemed wrong, but I wanted you to know that I became a father. 
You stared at the message, just a few days after Anna had said you could move back home, reading it as you held your sister’s infant daughter in your arms. You thought about ignoring it, shoving the strange, hollow feeling that was taking over the core of you down deep, but then he sent one more message, one you couldn’t just pretend he never sent at all. 
I’m sorry it wasn’t you. 
You held it together until Anna was done in the shower, giving Ellie to her and making up some excuse that you were sure she could tell was bullshit - something about a headache and feeling nauseated - so you could hide in the room that had become yours in the time you’d been at Anna’s. You buried your face in the pillow and screamed until your throat was raw and you were choking on your tears, barely able to breathe. 
It wasn’t you. It wasn’t you, not for anybody. He had been everything to you once but you hadn’t been anything to him, not really. It had never been you. 
This, you thought, you should have been used to by now. You’d always felt like you were on the fringes of your own life, the people at the center of your world putting you on the edges of theirs. Gale, when you’d first gotten together with him, was the first person since Joel who made you feel like you were a priority, like you actually mattered. That feeling had faded with time but that, you’d thought, was just a byproduct of what a whole life with someone meant. Of course he didn’t send you good morning texts with poetry anymore or get you flowers just because or go out of his way to get your favorite tea. You saw each other all the time, why would he?
But you’d been sure that, at least with your husband, you were the priority. Until he’d given you divorce papers, even through the months of distance and cold behavior, you’d thought that you were the priority.
Then you realized, you’d kept thinking that, even after he left, even now. The way the divorce had dragged on, the way he kept texting and calling and trying, some sad, sick part of yourself had latched onto that. That you were the important thing, that you were what mattered. Your marriage may have failed but you took some cold comfort in the fact that you’d at least left your mark on him.
But you hadn’t. You’d stopped sleeping together hardly more than a year ago and your husband already had a baby with another woman. Even in your marriage, you’d been on the fringes.
When you stopped crying enough that you could see clearly, you emailed your attorney.
Give him whatever he wants. I just need this to be done.
You knew what that meant. The last divorce agreement his lawyer had sent yours included shared rights to your own fucking book, him keeping the house without buying you out, him keeping the entirety of the 401k. He was asking for a lot but all you wanted then was to cut the tie as thoroughly as possible. As terrifying as it was to live in a world that made it seem like your marriage had never happened, it was better than this. 
Your lawyer called you to be sure, to try to talk you out of it, but you didn’t care. He could have whatever percentage of book rights he wanted, it's not like you could have created it without him. He could have the house, it’s not like you could ever live in it without him. He could have the entire state of Rhode Island for all you cared as long as you’d never be faced with the sharp reality of your marriage.
You wrote furiously when it was done, the words pouring out of you in a way they hadn’t since you’d written Halcyon. You barely slept or ate for days, canceling classes and writing until there wasn’t anything left inside you to say. You finished the manuscript, 33 chapters of your love and pain sitting in front of you. You stared at it for a moment, the cursor pulsing at the end of the final sentence. 
It was over. You weren’t sure what you were supposed to do now, but it was done. 
You were numb when you were on your couch a few days later, staring at the ceiling with nothing but your cat to keep you company, when your phone rang. You answered it without bothering to look at the screen, content to even talk to a telemarketer for a few minutes if it served as enough of a distraction.
“Hello?”
“What the hell is this, baby doll?”
You sat up fast enough that your head spun, pulling your phone away from your face to see Gale’s name on your screen. You put your ear to the phone again.
“What the hell is what?”
“This,” he said and you could hear the shuffle of papers on the other end.
“You realize we’re not on facetime, right?”
“You know what I mean,” he said. “This, the new divorce agreement your lawyer sent mine, what is this?”
You frowned, putting the call on speaker before going to your most recent email with your attorney and skimming the agreement. Your frown deepened.
“Isn’t that what you wanted?” You asked. “I thought you’d be happy, I…”
“You think this is what I want?” He cut you off, sounding heated.
“Isn’t it what you asked for?” you asked. “I don’t think I missed anything, you should have everything you wanted, and…”
“What I asked for is outrageous,” he said. You heard him put something down with a little too much force on the other end – probably a mug, knowing him – the sound of the ceramic on wood sharp. “I knew that when I asked for it."
"OK," you said, pinching the bridge of your nose, taking the phone off speaker and holding it against your ear again. “What else do you want? Do you want me to say you won or something? Because…”
“I want you to reconsider,” he said.
You just sat there for a moment, blinking in shock.
“What?”
“You heard me,” he said. “What is this. Why are you giving in to me like this.” 
It still took you a moment to process what he said before you could manage to answer. 
“I’m just trying to give you what you want,” you said, voice thick. 
“You’ve never done that before,” he said. “Hell, even when we were together you never did that, you never just gave into me unless you wanted it, too. Why now.” 
“You…” you sighed. “You’re a father now, you have… there’s someone else in your life now, you have another life now, Gale, and you should live it. I’m holding you back, I don’t want to hold you back, I…” 
“You’ve never held me back,” he said. “I’ve told you that.” 
“Well, clearly I wasn’t right for you in some way or we wouldn’t be where we’re at right now,” you snapped without meaning to. “I’m not the one who wanted to separate, that was you.” 
“Yeah, well, I fucked up,” he said and you had to bite your tongue. “I was… I’ve never been with anyone as long as I was with you…” 
“Yeah, me ether,” you said voice still sharp. “I was with you for more than a third of my life Gale.” 
“I know that,” he said, speaking more gently than you. “I should have known better, I should have understood how things would change and I should have embraced your success instead of letting it hurt me…” 
“My success hurt you?” You asked quietly. 
He sighed heavily. 
“It did,” he said. “You thrived commercially in ways I never could. I envied that, so much that I couldn’t stand being around you.” 
“That’s it?” You asked. “That’s what made you leave me, the fact that I sold more books than you did?” 
“No, of course not,” he said. “But it’s… it’s what started it.” 
You almost laughed to keep yourself from crying because of course it was the one success you’d found that broke your marriage. Why would it be anything else? 
“That’s not what I was trying to do,” you said. 
“I know,” he said. “I was wondering if…” 
“Does Carla know you’re talking to me?” You asked, cutting him off. 
“Does she need to?” He asked. “You’re my wife.” 
“And she’s the mother of your child,” you said. “I’m not going to be the other woman in my own marriage. You need to figure out what you want.” 
“And if I want you?” He asked. 
You sighed. 
“You have a family now,” you said. “Think before you blow it up.” 
But ever since, Gale had been a bigger presence in your life than Joel. He’d started acting like he had in the early days of your relationship, sending you romantic texts and having flowers delivered to your house. 
Part of you knew you should resist it, that this wouldn’t lead anywhere good. There was a reason things had fallen apart once before, you knew they would again. But going back to him would be so easy. He was comfortable, familiar. There was a life the two of you had together that you knew you could fit back into now, if you wanted. It might be complicated - he had a child now - but it was there, right in front of you. 
You just weren’t sure if you wanted it. 
So you started talking with him. Not a lot, not like it had been before, but you were texting daily. He wanted to know about your book, how your classes were going, about your life in Texas. Part of you was waiting for the other foot to drop, for him to decide that he didn’t want you again, but he was consistent and that, at least, was something. 
Meanwhile, your only contact with Joel was in a group chat with Sarah. 
You might have needed space from Joel but you couldn’t just cut things off with Sarah. It wasn’t fair to her, you knew she was attached to you. Plus, she had become like a niece or daughter to you in the year you’d known her. You knew the names of her friends and her favorite songs and the books she liked. You loved her. You’d had to keep in touch. She regularly came over to watch a movie or have dinner and she called you at least three times a week to ask for help with homework and tell you about her life.  
While you kept up with Sarah, you never really directly spoke to Joel. You only texted in the group chat to confirm that it was OK for you to pick up Sarah and what time she needed to be back, or when Joel would drop her off and pick her up at your place. 
But you’d opened up your texts to send him a message directly at least once a day and every time you just stared at the last thing he’d sent you: I’m sorry. It was sent just hours after you’d left his house with Ellie weeks before. 
You weren’t sure what the hell you were supposed to say to him, what you were supposed to do with that apology. Were you supposed to accept it and pretend it had never happened? Were you supposed to actually have him explain to you, on no uncertain terms, how he saw you and what he wanted from your relationship? Could you handle actually hearing him say it if you did? 
You didn’t know. So you left it alone, the message glaring at you, the date stamp going further and further into the past with every passing day. 
And that’s where your relationship with Joel sat, frozen in time, as his daughter watched you closely. 
“You should come over tonight,” Sarah said. You raised your eyebrows and she stared you down. “When you drop me off. Just come inside, say hi, have dinner. It’s think he said he was going to grill.” 
“I’m sure he already has everything planned out for tonight,” you said, returning to the work of painting her last nail and closing the polish. “I don’t think it’s a good idea…” 
“Please?” She said, her eyes wide. She had to know what she was doing, looking at you that way. She was too smart for her own good. “I miss you.” 
You sighed. 
“Alright…” 
“Yes!” She punched the air in victory. 
“But just to say hi,” you said and her face fell a little. “I don’t want to impose.” 
“Psh, family doesn’t impose,” she waved you off. You looked at her, incredulous. “What? That’s what Uncle Tommy says when he wants to stay for dinner.” 
You snorted. 
“Yeah, I bet he does,” you said. “Alright, once your toes dry, we’ll go to the bookstore and get you home.” 
“And you’ll come inside?” 
“And I’ll come inside,” you said, even though the thought made your stomach knot. “Promise.” 
You took her to the bookstore, just wandering through with her and picking out a few new things for her - because you weren’t above buying a kid’s love - and got in line, where you passed a table of best sellers. 
Halcyon was sitting there, out in paperback now, one copy sitting face down so your portrait was visible on the back. Sarah frowned and picked it up, examining it for a moment before her face lit up. 
“Aunt Goldie!” She said, thrusting the book at you. “That’s you! I didn’t know you were famous!” 
You shushed her, someone in line in front of you turning to look at you. 
“OK, well, I’m not famous,” you said, taking the book from her and setting it back where it belonged. “I just wrote a book that people liked, that’s all.” 
“My dad said you wrote a book, I didn’t know it was a famous book,” she said. “Can I read it?” 
“Absolutely not,” you said, nudging her forward as the line moved. 
“Why not?” She pouted. 
“Because, as much as I love you and know how good of a reader you are, I wrote the book for adults,” you said. “You can read it in 10 years. Maybe.” 
“Well, will you tell me what it’s about?” She asked. 
You sighed, not entirely sure how to answer that question. At least, not to Sarah. 
“It’s…” you paused. “It’s about love and figuring out who you are with it and without it.” 
“Oh,” she crinkled her nose a little. 
“What?” You asked, laughing a little. 
“Sounds kinda boring,” she said. “Sorry.” 
You snorted. 
“No, you’re right,” you said. “It probably is boring.” 
You paid for the books, the person in line behind you stopping you on your way out the door to sign a copy of your book they’d just bought, Sarah beaming as she watched, and drove to Joel’s. 
You took a moment to steel yourself as you sat in his driveway. You hadn’t been in Joel’s house since you’d left. Any time you picked up or dropped off Sarah, you just sat in the car and waited for her to come to you or watched her until she was safely inside. You didn’t dare actually go in the house. That, you knew, was a bridge too far.
But you’d overcome bigger obstacles. You could do this, too. 
You pulled yourself together and followed Sarah inside. 
Nothing had changed. The blanket that was made by Joel’s mother was still draped on the end of the couch, his work boots were in a heap near the door, a beach towel from the pool was drying on a chair outside that you could just see through the sliding glass door. In spite of the knot in your stomach, this place felt like home. There was comfort here because the people you loved were here. 
“That you baby girl?” Joel called from down the hall. 
Your heart stuttered.
“It’s just me,” she called back.
You heard the telltale sounds of his footsteps as he made his way to the stairs. 
“For dinner, did you…” he said before he froze, looking up from his phone to find you standing there, in his living room. 
You smiled tightly. 
“Hi Joel.” 
***
You were here. 
In his living room, you were here. You were here and you weren’t ignoring him and maybe he hadn’t fucking ruined everything. You were here and holy fuck you looked good, just in shorts and a tank top and fuck, he wanted to touch you again. 
Instead, he just swallowed that driving want and cleared his throat, standing up a little straighter as he did. 
“Hey, Goldie.” 
You smiled. Not in that usual way you had, one that was quieter and stiller but still there. 
“I told Aunt Goldie that she should come over and stay for dinner,” Sarah said. 
“Oh,” Joel said, looking between you and Sarah. “Well, baby girl, Aunt Goldie’s been real busy lately and…” 
“She already said she could stay for dinner,” Sarah said, almost smirking. “And I know you guys aren’t in a fight because you’ve both said you’re not in a fight and you’d never lie to me about that, right?” 
Joel looked at you, a little desperate, and you just gave him a small shrug. 
“Right,” she finished for him. “So that means she can stay for dinner because there’s no reason she can’t and oh, look! Vanessa is calling me so I’m just going to go into my room until dinner is ready and talk with her and not listen to whatever you two are going to talk about. Bye!” 
She ran upstairs, taking them two steps at a time, leaving you and Joel standing there awkwardly in his living room. 
“Sorry,” he said at the same time you did and you both laughed awkwardly.
“She’s conniving, that one,” you said. 
“Little trickster,” Joel agreed. 
He just watched you for a moment, happy that he could see you - actually see you, not just picture you like he usually did now.  
“I should have called,” you said after you were both quiet for a moment. “I shouldn’t have just… It doesn’t matter that she wanted me to come over like this, I should have called and…” 
“No, it’s fine,” Joel said quickly. “You’re always welcome here, Goldie, you don’t need to call.” 
You smiled, small again, but it was there. 
“Thanks,” you said. “I should have at least brought something, though, I know you weren’t planning on me being here… I can just go, I don’t…” 
“Think we can find enough food in this house to feed three people,” he said, stepping closer, smiling a little. “Stay, if you want. I’d… I’d really like it if you stayed.” 
“OK,” you said and you smiled like you then, small at first but then wide and bright and welcoming. “Then yeah, I’ll stay.” 
Falling into you again was so fast and so easy. You followed him to the kitchen and the two of you made awkward, stilted conversation for a minute or two but, before long, you were perched on the counter while he made burger patties from the ground beef in the fridge as you told him how Ellie was doing and he told you what he’d been up to since you’d left. 
Which, he had to admit, he was embellishing a little because, without you and Ellie, his life had been pretty gray. 
After you left, it took a few days before it felt like he could do anything but take care of Sarah and stare at his phone. He’d texted you an apology, something he immediately regretted. He should have figured out a better way to say it instead of just “I’m sorry” and kept his mouth shut until he did. He kept hoping that you’d reply, that you’d give him a chance to say something better than “I’m sorry.” 
Eventually, he gave up and tried to figure out how to live without you again. It was harder than he’d expected it to be. He’d done it before when you’d gone more than just a few miles down the road and he’d lived through that, this shouldn’t have been any worse. But it was. 
Your lives had become so entangled, so in step, you were missing in everything he did. There were reminders of you everywhere and in everything, so much so that he needed an outlet. 
So, he started playing guitar more.
It hurt at first because, for some masochistic fucking reason, he kept being drawn to songs about heartbreak and loss. But eventually, he got to the point that he wanted to do something besides wallow. It took him some time to figure out what the fuck that meant but, eventually, he settled on the perfect thing: his business plan. 
Part of him wanted to believe that he was doing it only for himself. That this was what he wanted, it was the next step he needed to take to make his life - and the life he was building for his daughter - what he wanted it to be. 
But that wasn’t true, you were in this, too. This was what he needed to do to be worthy of you. Maybe, if he could actually fucking make something of himself, you’d want him the way he wanted you. 
So he’d put together the damn business plan. He put together the business plan and thought up a name and made an appointment at the bank to apply for the loan he’d need to start the company to begin with. He did everything he had to to make something of himself. He did it because he’d been wanting to be something since he’d first held his daughter. He did it because you gave him the courage and the drive to do it. 
He didn’t tell you that part of it but he did tell you about the business stuff and he couldn’t help but be a little proud as he did. 
But it was strange being close to you again like this, in ways that weren’t as intimate as they’d been just a few months before. He couldn’t just touch you as he cooked, trailing his hand up your thigh or his fingers over the delicate skin on the inside of your wrist where he could feel the pulse of you. Even with that odd distance, it felt like you should be close to him all the time, like he shouldn’t need to catch up with you like this because he should just know. He should just be living all of this with you.
“I’m so glad you guys aren’t fighting anymore,” Sarah said cheerfully when she finally emerged from her room for dinner, the three of you gathered around Joel’s table with cheeseburgers standing tall on your plates. 
You looked at Joel, brows raised and nose scrunched and he sighed before looking back at Sarah. 
“We weren’t fighting, baby girl,” he said. 
“Oh, sure,” Sarah nodded sarcastically. 
“He’s right. As much as I would love to just hang out with you and your dad all day, I’m afraid I do have a job,” you said. “And that means I have to be somewhere else at least some of the time.” 
“I’ve just decided that I’m not going to let you guys not talk to each other for my whole life again,” she said. “So say whatever you want, I’m just glad Aunt Goldie is back.” 
She got up and gave you both a squeeze. 
“I’m going to go do homework,” she said. 
“Believe that when I see it,” Joel scoffed. 
“And you guys have fun,” she said, ignoring you both before heading to her room. 
You watched her go, an amused smile on your face until you heard her bedroom door closed. 
“She is too smart for her own good, for the record,” you said. 
“Tell me about it,” Joel laughed. “Fuck if I know where she gets it from, too. Sure as hell ain’t me.” 
“You always underestimate yourself,” you smiled a little, watching him now. Joel shrugged. “Is it weird to say I’m proud of you? For the business stuff I mean?” 
“Nah,” Joel waved you off. “Not weird. Couldn’t have done it without you.” 
“Yes you could,” you said. “But I’m glad I got to be a part of it.” 
“Want to be more of a part of it?” He asked. “Because no one but me has read this business plan and, I’m not gonna lie to you Goldie girl, that’s making me pretty damn nervous.” 
You laughed a little. 
“Yeah,” you said. “I’d be happy to.” 
Joel just watched as you went through the documents, a serious look on your face, and you made some notes on scratch paper as you went, weirdly anxious about what you would say. Because what you thought mattered even more than the damn bank. 
“This is good,” you said when you finished, nodding slowly. “I have some questions but I think this is really good, Joel.” 
“Yeah?” He asked, brows raised. 
You smiled, one of your smiles, the ones he loved so much. 
“Yeah,” you said. “You’re getting that loan, Miller. You’re about to be Joel Miller, proud founder of Miller Brothers Construction and Contracting, how’s it feel?” 
He laughed.
“Pretty damn good,” he said. “But I do want your notes, I really want to do something right for once in my damn life.” 
“Sure,” you laughed. “But I have had a beer and four glasses of iced tea since I’ve been here so I have to pee first. Think you can manage to wait for like… two minutes?” 
“I guess,” Joel groaned. “Cave to your basic human frailties, God you’re so lame.” 
You rolled your eyes at him but ran off to the bathroom and Joel watched you go, his eyes lingering on your ass and he tried to not picture you naked in his bed, remembering the way you looked when you slept naked and kicked the covers off in the night and he could see every inch of your skin beside him. 
Your phone vibrating on the table pulled him out of his own head and he was about to call your name when he frowned, seeing the name on screen. 
Gale was calling you. 
Fucking Gale. 
He watched it ring out, staring it down like it was a threat. 
What the fuck were you doing talking to fucking Gale? You weren’t speaking to the guy when you’d been staying at Joel’s. What was he doing calling you now? 
“Alright,” you said, clapping your hands together once before punching the air as you made your way back to the kitchen. “Let’s do this thing, Miller!” 
“Why is Gale calling you?” He asked. 
Your face fell. 
“What?” You asked quietly. 
“Gale,” he said, feeling himself get madder than he should. “The fucking asshole you’re supposed to be getting away from, Gale. Your ex-husband, Gale.”
“He’s not my ex-husband,” you said, shoving your hands in your back pockets and squaring your jaw. “We’re still married. And it’s not your business who I talk to…” 
“Not your ex-husband?” He asked. “And not my business? It’s not my business, right, great…” 
“Are we doing this again?” You asked, brows raised. “Really? You’re going to be pissed that I’m seeing someone…” 
“You’re fucking seeing him?” He asked, getting to his feet. “You’re getting back together with your ex-husband, the same one who treated you like shit? Jesus Christ, Goldie!” 
“I don’t know what I’m doing!” You snapped. “But I do know that he’s coming here tomorrow so we can talk and he’s going to help me with my book and…” 
“Why!” He cut you off. “Why the fuck are you going back to that… that… fucking asshole? Goldie, you’re so much BETTER than him! You don’t…” 
“He’s my husband, Joel!” You all but yelled. “He’s someone that I promised to be with for the rest of my life and that means something, I can’t just pretend it didn't happen! We’ve been talking and…” 
“And what?” Joel snapped. “What, he start manipulating you again?” 
“Again?” You asked, incredulous. “What do you mean again, you don’t know anything about our relationship, you don’t know what he was like then, what I was like then! You don’t know that part of my life, stop pretending like you do!” 
“And why don’t I know it, hm?” He asked, just pissed off now. “Tell me, why don’t I know that part of your life when I know all the others, why don’t I know that part?” 
“Don’t,” you said, sharp and cold. 
He didn’t listen. 
“Because you left! I don’t know because you left, you left me here like I was nothing, like I didn’t fucking matter to you and yeah, maybe I didn’t but…” 
“No, fuck you,” you spat. “You don’t get to pretend like you’re just some innocent in all this…” 
“Then what am I?” He demanded. “Tell me, I’m fucking dying to know how it’s my fuckin’ fault that you took off across the damn country, changed your damn number, blocked me on goddamn Facebook when I LOVED you…” 
“Don’t,” you said, tears at the edges of your eyes. “Don’t do that, don’t say that kind of shit to me…” 
“Say what?” He asked. “Tell you the truth? Because…” 
“Because I’m not just some girl you fuck and cast aside, Joel!” You got in his face, tears falling now. “So don’t feed me the same lines you feed them because it won’t work and it’s not fair to me or to our friendship and…” 
“What lines!” He asked. “I’m not feeding you any fucking lines, I don’t know what you’re talking about!” 
“I heard you!” You yelled, breathless, forceful enough that Joel stepped back from you. 
“What?” He whispered. 
“I heard you,” you said. “When you were talking with Ricky, under the bleachers after prom, I heard you. I heard how much you regretted that night, I heard what you thought of me, I fucking heard you, Joel. So don’t act like you didn’t do anything, don’t act like I meant something to you because I know I didn’t. I know what I was, I know I was just some stupid girl you regretted fucking, I heard you. I know what I am to you, deep down, so forgive me if I’m not exactly desperate to talk through this shit with you. I’m sorry the fact that someone out there wants me, actually wants me, is so inconvenient for you!” 
You snatched your phone from the table and stalked toward the door. 
“No,” he said, going after you. “No, Goldie, listen, I…”
“I’m really not interested in hearing more of your bullshit, Joel,” you snapped. “I can’t, I just don’t have it in me to hear you talk about how much you regret me anymore.” 
You paused in the doorway, looking back at him as he scrambled to find a way to say something - anything - that would make you stay. 
“Good luck at the bank,” you said. “I’m sure you’ll get what you’re asking for.” 
You were gone before he had a chance to respond. 
A/N: I'm so sorry this took a million years. Thank you for being patient as my job put me through the wringer and grad school just beat me over the head repeatedly.
This was a BIG moment for Goldie in particular! She FINALLY said it, the reason why she left and why she thinks he doesn't want her. She reopened the wound and now the ball is in Joel's court. We'll see what he does with it :)
Taglist: @kaseyconnour
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lovecla · 7 hours ago
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EAT YOU LIKE A PREY | luke hughes.
nsfw, @lovecla’s kinktober collection, single chapter:
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— pair: luke hughes x fmc (mila)
— synopsis: after finding out that her friend, the shy, cute luke hughes has a crush on her, mila decides that she will do anything to make him confess his feelings for her out loud. but what do people say about biting more than you can chew?
— word count: 4.3k
— chapter warnings: lowkey mean softdom!luke, unprotected sex, creampie, dirty talk, size kink and degradation if you dig deep, p in v, fingering, squirting (not super detailed tho), edging, pet names, drinking (just a shot but,) dacryphilia.
from me to you: happy halloween, my loves 🤍 i have a few things to say today so buckle up. 1st of all, thank u so much for 400 followers and 10k likes! this means so much to me, and it’s not about the numbers but about people liking what i write— something that not even i do sometimes. 2nd, thank u all for all the compliments on my smut writing heheh i’m really trying to improve my skills so whenever u guys compliment me i’m like ૮₍˶ᵔ ᵕ ᵔ˶₎ა so thank u again. 3rd and last, this is just a single chapter but TM(HTMHC) chapter 5 is already in the making 🤍 this is a lot different from what i’m used to write but i hope it’s still good? lmk what u think 🐰
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LUKE HUGHES was the sweetest, most adorable guy you have ever met.
Falling for him wasn’t anything out of this world, you were just another person to fall in love with his wholesome personality, and even though you had certain advantages over the other girls— because you knew him personally— you never really did anything.
When Jack told you that Luke had a crush on you— yesterday, literally—, the first thought that came to your mind was: “How?”
He always acted sweet and shy around you, besides treating you with utmost respect and affection. He takes care of you whenever you need, he knows your favorite drinks and your favorite TV shows, knows that when you’re bored you like to watch Disney Channel’s cringe ass shows just to laugh at the actors’ lines.
So him, having a crush on you, wasn’t at all that much of a surprise.
The fact that he hadn’t done anything about it, though? Yeah. That was a big, unexpected surprise.
Now it was Thursday, and while you got ready in your room, and waited for your best friend, Suzy, to pick you up, you thought of ways of making Luke want to confess to you.
You wouldn’t be the one doing it first, no. You had too much pride for that, and with every reason. You were gorgeous, you didn’t need anyone to tell you that. You could say that you’re too much of a princess and you don’t like to run after boys, but in reality, it was just that all of the men you had relations with were just a bunch of assholes.
They wanted you to be the first to make a move, they wanted you to decide where you would have dinner, or what movie you would watch. And that just doesn’t work for you, at least not anymore. You want them to work for getting you, not the other way around.
But with Luke, things were different. You can’t just know that Luke Hughes has a crush on you and not do anything. So you would have to be smart, and make him want to tell you how he feels, without asking him to.
Is this some way of gaslighting?, you ask yourself, applying some more blush to your face, I don’t know. But it has to be done, I guess.
Suzy didn’t take long to get to your house, and you got inside her car, complementing her Snow White costume. Now, you’re even more glad that you spent hours trying to choose the perfect costume for Mercer’s party. Usually, you’d go for something that showed less skin and was more scary than slutty, but something told you that this year you needed a change; and if that change was shortening your skirt and wearing a corset that squeeze your tits and push them up higher, then so be it.
𖧷
“SOMEONE SHOULD’VE told me that Dawson was planning on throwing his Halloween party at a fucking haunted mansion.”
You laugh, getting out of the car and feeling the cold breeze hit your skin, the sight of the tall, dark house in front of you making you shiver.
The party was happening inside a huge mansion that looks like it had been abandoned for years even though you know it’s all just play pretend. The front of it is highly decorated with skeletons, coffins, trash and signs that read:
“YOUR FINAL STOP,” and “WELCOME TO YOUR WORST NIGHTMARE.”
You thought it was all super funny, while Suzy whined beside you, and held your arm like her life depended on it. Entering the house after showing your ID and giving your name to the security guard at the front door, you saw that the interior is just as decorated as the outside, if not more.
“How much do you think Dawson spent on this?” You ask, genuinely curious.
Suzy started rambling about how he probably spent a lot of money and how there were thousands of people inside the mansion and how you were never going to find Jack or Nico or anyone for that matter because everyone were wearing costumes and makeup and—
“It’ll be fine,” you cut her off, shouting over the loud music. “I mean, are there hundreds of people here? Yes. Will we be able to find them? Very unlikely. But it’s fine, right?”
“I guess?” She cocks her head, her curls going everywhere. “Can we grab something to drink, though? You know I need my daily dose of beer…”
“You’re crazy. But yeah, we can.”
Moving through the sea of bodies, you greeted so many people that your head was starting to get tired. You didn’t even know all of them properly, but since Jack, Quinn and Luke knew so many people, and you were always with them, people said “hi” to you anyway.
Finding the drink section had been like finding an oasis in the middle of the desert, and while Suzy grabbed a can of beer, you had a shot of vodka before grabbing a non-alcoholic drink, wanting to be very aware of your actions through the night.
You got back to walking, listening to Suzy’s long complaints about how much time you spent talking with people she didn’t know and how she wanted to dance.
“Fuck, Mila, this is Drake!” She shouts, grabbing your hand and pulling you to the side, where a bunch of people were dancing.
“I was talking to Elliot, you know,” you shout, laughing.
“I don’t care, baby, this fucking song makes me want to go crazy and make out with you!” Suzy throws her arms up, jumping.
“Baby, that’s the alcohol speaking.” You smile, giving up and moving with the beat.
You need to get done, done, done, done at work, come over
We just need to slow the motion
Don't give that away to no one
Long distance, I need you
You danced with Suzy, not letting your mind think of Luke or anything else. Moving your hips was way easier when you didn’t have to worry about anything.
When I see potential I just gotta see it through
If you had a twin, I would still choose you
I don't wanna rush into it, if it's too soon
But I know you need to get done, done, done, done
Suzy’s hands caressed your body, as she goes to the floor, making you smile as she runs her hands through your bare legs, mouthing the lyrics to the song, singing Drake’s verse with a flirty tone. She got up and you turned around, laughing as you grind your ass on her, placing your hands on your knees and moving your hips while she held your waist, playfully.
I spilled all my emotions tonight, I'm sorry
Rollin', rollin', rollin', rollin', rollin'
How many more shots until you're rollin'?
While you danced, and while Suzy sang to you and hugged you tight, you felt a weird sensation in your chest. You were constantly getting goosebumps, and the left side of your neck burned. But no matter how much you looked around, you couldn’t find anything weird.
You knew so many people there, you could see Nico, Cole, Matt; and yeah, some of the guys were watching you and Suzy dance but that’s just normal, expected behavior from men.
Until you saw him.
There, standing in the corner of the room, leaning against the wall and holding a typical American red cup, wearing a full black outfit and.
Was that a ghostface mask?
You couldn’t be sure of who was behind the mask, but for some reason, you couldn’t take your eyes off him— and it looked like neither could he. While you ground on Suzy and danced with her, you made eye contact with the mask, feeling the hair on your arm going up; the hotness that before only covered the left side of your neck, was now running down your body, making you feel warm all over.
Which is weird, so weird.
Suddenly, the lights are off, and now everyone’s screaming with excitement and exhilaration, making you jump slightly, trying to find Suzy’s body. Once you do, you shout at her— or at least at what you hope is her ear.
“Are you okay?”
“I’m fine!” She yells back, and you can tell that she’s having a lot of fun for someone who was just complaining about how scary the house looked. “This is so fun!”
“It is, yeah,” you reply, as they turn the lights back on, the music somehow louder and the people even more animated.
“We need to dance more and then,” she gets closer, biting her lips. “I’ll find someone to fuck me.”
“Jesus,” you roll your eyes. “You’re insane.”
“Maybe.”
You laughed before moving your body with the next song again, dancing for what felt like hours, but not as thoughtless as you were before, no. Now all you could think of was the man that stood in the corner of the room and that now wasn’t there anymore, vanished as soon as the lights were on again.
Even if you had already looked around the entire room and you were one hundred percent sure that that man wasn’t there anymore, you could feel his presence around you, making your skin crawl with need.
I’m fucked up. Probably.
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YOU DON’T know where Suzy is.
Sometime between dancing and drinking, she found someone and disappeared like she had never been here in the first place.
You were tired, and you wanted to go back home, but, unfortunately, Suzy was your ride, so you’d have to wait until she’s done to go back to your apartment.
Of course, you could always call a taxi, or even one of the people you knew, or maybe try to call Jack or even Luke—
Luke. You hadn’t thought about him since you arrived at the party, too worried about having fun to even think of doing anything else.
But he’s not here anyway, you find yourself pouting, standing in the middle of the huge, fancy bathroom and staring at yourself in the mirror. At least I don’t think so.
But Jack had told you that he would be there, and Jack could be many things, but a liar wasn’t one of them. So, Luke probably is here, just hiding in a corner, like he usually did, always the shy boy.
Corner. Man. Black outfit. Ghostface.
Right, you take a deep breath. I’ll try to find him. Maybe I’ll manage to kiss him before leaving.
The thought of kissing Luke motivated you to get past the ocean of people, looking for curly hair and thick thighs. It didn’t help that you didn’t know what he was wearing or who he was with, but you were determined.
You walked the entire first floor, feeling your legs burn with how many steps you had already taken, especially after wearing high heels for so many hours. Luke definitely wasn’t there, and you were starting to feel frustrated.
You went up the stairs, regretting almost immediately. Dawson didn’t just decorate the first floor and the outside of the mansion, but the second floor as well. And if you thought the first floor was bad, this was even worse.
It was empty, it looked worse than the fucking Haunted House at Disneyland, and it was creepy as fuck. You started walking down the hallway, looking around while wrapping your arms around your middle, listening to the muffled sounds from downstairs.
Why isn’t anyone up here?
You walk past closed doors, until you stop in front of the only open one. Curious, you get inside the room, finding out that it was some kind of office: a big, dark wooden desk sat in the middle of the room, with an expensive looking chair behind it, and tons of books decorating the bookshelves against the walls.
A couch decorated the corner, and so did a lamp and a coffee table. You were just about to leave and go back to the party when you saw it— there, laying on the couch, the mask from before.
You hold in a gasp, feeling the left side of your neck burning again.
He’s here, he’s here. He’s here and he knows I’m here too.
“Took you long enough, bunny.”
You let out a scream, turning around to face the same man from before, who was now standing right behind you.
“L-Luke,” breathing fast, you mumble his name. “God, you scared me.”
“Sorry. Not my intention.”
He walks inside the room, sitting beside the mask— his mask.
“It… it was you.” You whisper, eyeing his clothes. The exact same outfit the man who watched you dance with Suzy and made you feel hot all over was wearing.
“Me?” He cocks his head, like he doesn’t know what you’re talking about.
“You,” you nod. “Downstairs. When I was dancing with Suzy.”
He stays quiet, not saying anything to confirm nor deny.
“Why didn’t you say anything? I’ve been looking for you for a while now.” You ask, confused.
“You looked like you were having so much fun,” there’s some kind of sarcasm in his tone, but you can’t really tell why. “I didn’t want to ruin your fun, that’s all.”
Usually, you’d just play around and tell him something funny. But you remembered what Jack said, and you also remembered that you had a plan. Make Luke Hughes confess his feelings for you.
Smiling and walking further inside the bedroom, you start your plan.
“You know you could never ruin my fun,” you say. “I missed you.”
He smirks, spreading his thighs on the couch.
“Yeah?” You nod. “I missed you too. You look cute with your little bunny outfit.”
You give him a little twirl, placing your hands on your hips. “D’you like it? I also think it looks great.”
He hums, before getting up, standing in front of you, his 6’2” figure making you feel small, even though you were 5’4” yourself.
“Why were you looking for me, Mila?”
His tone is so different from what you’re used to. He doesn’t sound sweet and adorable anymore, and for some reason, it has you intrigued. His eyes, looking darker with so little lighting in the room, staring down at you.
“I just wanted to see you. ‘Been a while, no?” Sweetening your voice to the max, you blink twice. “Perhaps we could, I don’t know, have some fun?”
His smile only widens at that, and just when you thought you were about to get what you want, his next words make you freeze.
“Do you think I’m dumb?”
You frown at his words, gulping.
“W-what do you mean?” You whisper.
“Bunny, bunny,” he clicks his tongue, stepping closer to you. “You think I don’t know what you’re doing?”
“I’m not doing anything—”
“I know Jack talked to you,” he whispers. “He isn’t exactly subtle. And I’ve seen you with boys before. You use those pretty, sweet eyes to make them fall for you, do whatever you want, beg for just a little bite. Am I wrong?”
You bite your lips, holding the hem of your skirt, looking for some kind of support. Luke’s breathy voice makes all of your tiredness leave your body.
“I asked you a question, cutie.”
“No,” you whisper. “You’re not wrong, Luke.”
The smile he gives you is brighter than the moon shining in the sky.
“I know I’m not, baby,” he gets closer, placing his large hand on your waist, on top of your corset. “So, if you want to have some fun with me,” he continues, using the same words you used not even five minutes ago. “It will have to be the way I want it to be, right?”
You nod with your head, scared that he would find out your underwear is slowly getting wetter and wetter.
He gives you a forehead kiss before stepping back, walking towards the door, letting you wonder if he was just being silly and was in fact leaving the room. Which he doesn’t, just closes the door and walks back at you, eyeing you like a wolf would look at a bunny.
Luke kissed you as if he was hungry, thirsty for something he could only get if he stuck your lips together. His hands, warm and large, encircled your waist and pushed you until your back hit the large bookshelf that decorated the wall of the office.
“Fuck,” Luke moans against your mouth. “I’ve been wanting to do this for so long.”
You wanted to tell him that you had too, but you didn’t even have time; Luke kissed you again, making you stand on your tiptoes, wrapping your arms around the back of his neck, messing up the curls that decorated his head.
His mouth moved against yours, his lips sweet and soft, different from the way he kissed you: bruising and desperate, holding you so close that you feared, for a second, that the two of you would become one.
“I’m gonna fuck you,” he warns, his green eyes, now a darker shade, looking into yours and showing all the impure thoughts he was having. “I’m gonna fuck you hard against that table, Mila, and I swear to God I won’t stop. So, if you don’t want that, tell me now and I’ll take you home.”
“No,” you say, desperately and shamefully wet. “I need you.”
“I know you do,” he says, his voice full of malice. His hands roam your body, touching only the top of your breasts, not lingering on them for more than a minute.
Then, Luke’s hands find the middle of your legs, and you close your eyes, embarrassed that he would now know how turned on you were.
You can hear Luke’s ragged breathing as he pulls the wet fabric of your panties up, making you moan as the fabric touches your clit, splitting your two outer labia.
“You’re so wet, bunny,” He murmurs against your skin, playing with the thin and—now—soaked fabric of your panties. “I bet I don’t even have to prep you before slamming my dick into you with how sloppy you probably are.”
You moan loudly, feeling your cheeks burn with embarrassment.
“Luke—”
Your speech is cut off when he shoves your panties to the side and thrusts two fingers inside you, thrusting them with urgency and need.
“I knew it,” he chuckles. “So. Fucking. Loose.”
You grip his arm, feeling wetter than you had ever felt in your life. Luke had always been sweet and loving, and you loved that face of his. But this? This is so much better.
Two of his fingers were moving in and out quickly, while his thumb was touching your clit quickly, making you see stars. The wet sounds filled the room and made you close your eyes in shame.
The weight of Luke's body on yours was comfortable and overwhelming at the same time, the height difference only making you feel even more like prey that had just been captured.
“Luke, fuck.”
“It’s a shame that a cute bunny like you has such a dirty mouth,” he makes a tsc sound with his tongue, not once stopping moving his fingers. “Did no one teach you manners?”
You shake your head, moaning loudly and forgetting that the door wasn’t locked, and that there was a party going on downstairs, with hundreds of people who at any moment could open the door and see the obscenity happening in front of them.
“I’m gonna come, Luke, please, I will—”
Tears immediately form in your eyes when Luke suddenly removes his fingers from inside you. “What? Why did you stop?” You sob.
“Because I wanted to.” He simply says, kissing your cheek, the sweetness of his act contrasting with the harshness of his words.
He comes closer again, running both hands behind your thighs, picking you up with ease. Then, he walks towards the table in the middle of the room, stopping in front of it and placing you on the floor gently.
He kisses you again, biting your lips right after.
“Turn around, cutie,” he smiles, before unbuttoning his pants and pulling them down along with his underwear, making you sigh.
Luke is big. Like, bigger than any of the guys you’ve been with before, probably thicker too.
“What?” He smirks. “Did the little bunny bite off more than she can chew?”
Gulping, you shake your head. “Y-you’re… big.”
“Mhm,” he shamelessly grabs his cock, stroking the head a few times, spreading the precum all over his length, as you watch with awe, his hand size matching his dick. “Think you can take it?”
Even though your brain screamed for you to run and hide, your the unstoppable throbbing between your legs was too hard to ignore.
“Yes, but… even if I can’t,” you tilt your head up, staring at his lustful eyes. “You’ll make me, right?”
“Smart, smart bunny.”
He kisses you again before turning your body around, placing your hands on the table and lifting your skirt. You can feel him removing your panties as he spreads your legs wide with his feet.
He runs his cock over your lips for a few seconds, the wet sounds echoing off the walls of the room, and when he finally enters, it’s like everything you’ve been searching for finally makes sense.
“Holy fuck, Mila,” he groans, resting his torso against your back.
He doesn’t wait for you to adjust before pulling his entire length out of you and putting it back in, thrusting hard and precisely. Your hands grip the wood beneath your fingers tightly, and your eyes meet the back of your head.
You can feel the tears decorating your face, as Luke grips your waist with an incredible force and pushes his cock hard inside you, moaning loudly.
“You’re so fucking wet, baby,” he says, and you bite your lips, holding back a loud moan. “You’re getting my dick so wet.”
“Luke.”
You didn’t care about anything anymore. All you wanted was to cum, and preferably on his fingers.
He seemed to have heard your thoughts, as it didn't take him long to support one of your legs on the table, entering even deeper inside you, hitting places no one had ever hit before. Then, moving his fingers over your engorged clit, he rubbed it mercilessly, your orgasm building faster, since he edged you not even ten minutes ago.
“Luke,” you sob, calling out his name. “I’m gonna come.”
“Are you going to make a mess?”
“I-I don’t know—”
“Then hold it,” he says, as he applies even more pressure on your sensitive nub, slamming his dick deeper onto your g-spot.
“I can’t, I need to—”
“Baby, you’re not the one in charge here,” his voice is soft, gentle and calming— it didn't stop your tears, though. “If you’re not gonna make a mess, then why should I bother letting you come anyway?”
“Please, Luke, please,” you hiccup, feeling some pieces of the wood get under your nails with how hard you were scratching the table.
“Make a mess, Mila. That’s the only way you’re coming tonight.”
You’re dizzy. Your head is empty and you only need to let Luke ruin you, and everything you believe. When you finally reach your peak, you come, wetting his fingers, your thighs and the table, but none of that is enough for the curly haired boy behind you.
He keeps rubbing you, biting your neck, fucking you into pure oblivion, overwhelming you to the max. And when you feel himself pulling away, you shake your head, crying louder and clenching your hole around his dick.
He hisses. “Mila.”
“No,” you cry. “Inside— ah, please.”
“You’ll drive me insane,” he jokes, but there isn't a hint of playfulness in his tone. He keeps slamming inside you, until he finally comes, painting your insides white with his release.
It’s dirty, raw and human. It’s oddly comforting and overwhelming at the same time; it’s maddening.
People have been put in mental institutions for feeling much less than you right now.
“Mila.”
Luke’s voice is far, and as you rest your forehead against the cold wood of the table, you can feel him pulling away from you.
“Bunny?”
You feel his hand on your hair, and you can feel his presence everywhere. Wiping your cheeks, cleaning your thighs with his shirt, putting your underwear back on, pulling your skirt down. You can feel his warm, burning body behind you as he gets you up and rests your back against his toned abs, kissing your neck gently.
“Hey,” he whispers, and you can tell he’s trying so hard not to freak you out. “Mila, baby.”
“‘Gimme a minute,” you whisper, smelling his perfume, a mix of sandalwood and patchouli.
He lets out a quiet laugh, caressing your thigh with the same hands that held you so strongly not even five minutes ago.
“Do you want to sit?”
“I don’t think I can move my legs right now,” You chuckle, and he hums, wrapping his arms around your waist and lifting you up again, walking you to the couch, laying down with you on top of him. “Feels nice.”
“I know,” he hums back. “Listen, I’m so—”
“Don’t you dare say you’re sorry,” you ask, closing your eyes. “I wanted this.”
“I wasn’t going to apologize for fucking you,” he laughs, and you feel his chest moving under you. “I was going to apologize for not telling you sooner.”
“Telling me what?”
“That I like you.”
“Oh.”
“Yeah,” he kisses your temple. “I don’t know why I didn’t do it sooner. I guess I was just scared.”
Now he sounded like the boy you knew.
“Same. I like you too much to screw things up.” You confess, feeling your cheeks burn.
“Well, that’s good to know.”
You snuggle closer to his body, ignoring the wet clothes and the fact that there was a party happening downstairs, and that Suzy was probably looking for you.
But it was fine. You could deal with her tomorrow.
𖧷
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jjkarmy091 · 1 day ago
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Second Best - Jungkook (part 3)
Summary: Being friends with someone who has your heart it’s already hard, let alone when that special someone ends up falling in love with your best friend, the one you think would never make anything to hurt you . Will you be able to ignore it and move on? what will happen when everything gets too much for you to handle?
Genre: Friends to lovers; angst; body insecurities; bullying; friend betrayel;
Pairing: Jungkook x female!reader
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After Y/n's words, Jungkook looked deeply in her eyes “why would you say you wish? Y/n you are still young and beatiful. You have a life ahead of you. Did someone hurt you? If the answer is yes then let me tell you he’s a piece of shit and you deserve way better. But... who? I mean you are always so busy with your shifts and manuscript and I never saw you with anyone or talking about someone special, so I never thought... Wait, I'm sorry, that was rude. Of course you have a life above that all. I just hope the guy who made feel like that realizes how dumb he is. Do you wanna talk about it?” he said concerned and curious at the same time 
Y/n looked at him and the only thing she wanted to do was to tell him how she really fel about him, but then she saw him again looking over to where Sewoon was. And with that she said “No Jungkook, it’s nothing. Nothing happened. I guess I've been single for so long I forgot how it feels like to have someone doing things for you, and you only. Why the fuck are we talking about sad stuff anyways?” she laughed but soon realized that he probably didn’t hear since he was looking at Sewoon, again. 
“Go talk to her Jungkook. I’ll be fine. Go” she said with teary eyes. Which Jungkook didn’t notice, not when he didn’t even flinch leaving her there alone grabbing Sewoon gently by the arm and kiss her like there was no tomorrow. And surprise? Sewoon actually kissed him back, opening her eyes and looking at you just to close them once again and surround his shoulders with her arms. 
Y/n was staring all the whole scene and suddenly started to feel her cheeks wet, turning around so no one would notice. But who would ? Everyone was entertained drinking, having fun and making out. She was the stupid one crying for someone who never loved her and had any interest in her. In the end she was responsible for this ache in her heart. Why create ilusions? Why put myself in this position only to be the one broken in pieces with absolutely no repair? She though.
How clould you think you'd be good enough for him
Trying to recompose herself she went to the bathroom, walking in there and cheking herself in the mirror saying “how ridiculous Y/n, congrats."
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Being there for a few minutes, when she was about to turn around she goes against someone. In panick, Y/n looks up to apologize but soon reconizes that face. 
“Oh! I’m so sor- Lisa? Oh my- I’m sorry I was so lost in thoughts I didn't hear anyone coming in. Did i hurt you?” 
“Y/N? Such a small world. I'm so happy to see you. No silly, I'm good. Was too distracted with my drink too. That and also trying to hide from this really annoying guy. How have you been? Lisa said, then stopped talking and slowly approached Y/n’s face “Hunny were you crying? Are you okay? Did someone hurt you?” Y/n looked at her, paused, took a deep breath, hugged her and sobbed so hard she thought she was gonna faint. 
She doesn’t know how much time she spent crying in Lisa’s arms or when she started throwing up and feeling dizzy. All she knew was that she was so tired of pretending and hidding, as if she wasn’t allowed to feel. She thanks God to find Lisa in this party and being her in the bathroom and not Sewoon. And then flashbacks come back and the memory of him grabbing Sewoon and kissing her so hard makes you want to throw up again. And how Sewoon looked her in the eyes before embrassing Jungkook closer to her. Oh how you wish it could be you instead.
“Y/n are you here with someone else? Lets call it a night, I’ll take you home. Or do I need to take you to the hospital? You’ve got me very worried.” At this point Lisa was talking so fast Y/n tried her best to understand what she was saying.  
“i’m good Liz, really. Got to much on my system i guess. And yes, I came with Sewoon but she’s a little busy right now and i don't want to bother her, but being home right now would feel so good”  
“Sewoon? You’re still friends with her?” Lisa’s eyebrows frowned and she made a funny face. “Wanna talk about what really happened here? Because I bet my two dimes it wasn't the drink for shit” 
Y/n looked at her, turned over to face the mirror to get herself together for the second time that night and said “Tell me again why weren’t we close in highschool?” she laughed. “ It’s a pretty long story, are you sure you have time?”  
“Ohh girl please. I’m so tired of this party that I'd use anything as an excuse to leave. Tell your little model friend that you’re going home. You have five minutes, more than that I’ll be the one getting you and it won’t be pretty. Meet me at the exit door. Times ticking” 
As Y/n started leaving the bathroom she deep breathed and tried to see where Sewoon and Jungkook were so she could inform them she was leaving. As she was about to reach the bar someone grabbed her arm a little too rough.
“Hey beautiful. Haven’t seen you around here before. Shall we dance or you’re the type to have a drink first?”  Y/n’s mouth dropped to the floor. She never been through this before. Usually would be Sewoon the target, not her, and for that she was feeling uneasy and the worst part was she didn't have anyone around to give her a hand. Fuck, could this night get any worse?  
“I’m sorry but I'm trying to find my friends. You seem very nice but I really am not in the mood to dance or drink” she tried to remain calm while saying this but became a little nervous when she saw the guys face change after getting rejected. All of the sudden there was someone else grabbing her avaiable arm and getting in the middle of her and the man in front. Took her a while to figure that in front of her was Jungkook, but not the one she was used to, no. This Jungkook seemed pissed, she could notice just by the way he was holding her. 
“Didn’t she tell you no? Are you deaf or the word respect is not in your vocabulary? Leave before things get ugly” Y/n never saw Jungkook like this. Maybe it was the drinks he had. Or did he fight with Sewoon after that kiss? You doubt it since they were so invested in it. The stranger raised both his hands in surrender while looking at them and started retreating. After he was gone Jungkook turned over to Y/n looking mad.
“Are you okay? Where were you? You disappeared and none of us could get a hold of you. And now I see you up close with this guy? The fuck is the matter with you?” You looked at him perplexed. Never in the time you met him he had talked to you like that 
“I went to the bathroom and ended up talking to some girls there. Not that it concerns you since you left me all alone at your first chance so you could swallow Sewoon’s face infront of everyone. Seriously Jungkook, you’re the one who needs to get a grip. You didn’t have to meddle like that. I’m an adult, not a kid who needs to be told where she should be or who to talk to” 
Jungkook definitely wasn’t expecting this outburst of Y/n and let her go but still looking at her. For some reason he got hurt by her words. She never scolded anyone like that, even when he would annoy the shit out of her. While he was thinking about what had just happened, Y/n spoke  
“I’m actually glad to see you. I was looking for Sewoon but since you’re here can you tell her I'm going home? I’m tired and got a ride home. Can you pass her the message?” Jungkook was so surprised that Y/n was giving him an attitude that he was speechless. “Jungkook are you listening? Can you pass the message?”  
“Yes. Yes sorry. I dont know where she is, i mean.. After we kissed I- I kinda needed some air and was going back to the bar but you weren’t there anymore and i went looking for you and lost sight of her. I- “he took a deep breath “did I do something wrong? You're being so harsh with me. Is it -” 
“I’m tired Jungkook and I have someone waiting for me outside. Give her the message for me, don’t forget. Please” she started walking to the exit door but stopped, sighed and completed “Don’t get too drunk tonight and get home safe. Goodnight Kook. Take care.” And like that she was out of his sight, but not out of his mind. What was that? and why does he feel so bad?  
After watching you leave, he went to the bar and asked for the strongest drink. Never did he expect to end the night like this and he needed this night to be gone.
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Tags: @esposadomd @joonlover1207 @eegyo @furrywonderlandwolf @minghaosimp
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m00nl1ghts1vt · 1 day ago
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Don't Think Different - Matt Sturniolo
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Requested by anon Pairings - bf!Matt x gf!Reader Summary - You and your long-term boyfriend, Matt, get invited to a friend's wedding. As the ceremony goes on, you and Matt can't help but wonder what it'd be like if it was your wedding day instead. Warnings - Just some fluff 🥰 W/c - 907 A/n - Heyy guys ❤️ I tried my hardest with this one. I don't have too much experience when it comes to cultural differences so, please don't hate. I had to do a bit of research for this one! I hope everyone likes it! (Dividers and photos are not mine. All credits to owners) Tags - @lvrsturniolo (if anyone else wants on my tag list just let me know!) Masterlist. Requests are open. Current series - City of Love.
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“Ready baby?” Matt sounds from the driver's seat of his car. You look at him, nodding, “yea let’s go.”
You and your boyfriend, Matt, were attending a close friend's wedding. You met the couple in college, quickly becoming their third wheel. A year later, you met Matt on a fun night out with them. You labeled Raj and Carina as your ‘parent friends’, so when Matt got their approval, you were jumping for joy! 
Though, three years have passed and both relationships have flourished tremendously. Your relationship with Matt didn’t move as quickly as Raaj and Carina’s did. I mean, they were getting married while you and Matt just hit one year of living together a couple months ago. You were happy for your friends, but a bit jealous that you and your long-term boyfriend weren’t in their shoes. 
Exiting the car, Matt grabs your hand and leads you into the venue. It’s an outdoor wedding with flowers and tapestries draped from the sky, setting a fun and playful mood for the guests. It really was beautiful.
“Oh my god,” you slap a hand over your mouth. You look around, taking in the breathtaking view. Matt looks over at you smiling, “I know! This is amazing!” He was in awe just as you were. The two of you take your seats, waiting for the ceremony to start. The groom, Raaj, comes in first, music blaring and his groomsmen following close behind him. When Carina approaches the aisle, all eyes on her, her dress is all white and bedazzled with crystals. Her veil matches, beaded crystals drooping off of it. Looking over at Matt, “I love her dress!” you mouth at him. He smiles at you and nods back to the bride. 
You turn your attention towards your friend as she approaches her soon-to-be husband. You couldn’t wait for that to be you and Matt up there. Your heart fluttered at the thought of marrying him and starting a family. It didn’t matter that your relationship went at a slower pace than most. As long as he wasn’t going anywhere, you didn’t care how quickly things progressed. Matt reaches his hand out, placing it on your thigh, and rubbing small circles into your skin. Your eyes meet his and he gives you a reassuring smile. 
The two of you watch as your newly married friends circle around the fire seven times and exchange varmala’s. Raaj bows as Carina puts the varmala around his neck, accepting his wife. He stands upright, smiling big as he puts his varmala over Carina’s head. The crowd cheers, giving the newlyweds a standing ovation as confetti and flowers shoot through the air. Matt wraps his arm around your shoulder, ducking his head until its ear level to you. He places a soft kiss on the side of your face, “that’ll be us next.”
Heat rises to your cheeks at his comment. God, you wish it was your moment right now. You had a habit of wanting as much of Matt as you could get, not in an overly possessive way. The passion your relationship with Matt held was undeniable. As guarded as he was, it only made you want to break his walls down even further - and that’s exactly what you did. It took a while, but you got there. So, Matt telling you he planned on marrying you was something you only dreamed about before. He never talked about marriage before, him mentioning it now made you fall into a daydream. Imagining the wedding you always wanted felt surreal to you. 
You look over at Matt after a while, “I’m not in a rush.” You knew damn well that if you could have it your way Matt would be dropping to one knee and pulling out a ring right then and there. That’d be considered rude at someone else's wedding, right? You watch as Matt purses his lips together, “I am,” making you giggle at him. 
“Seriously, we’ve been together for years. Getting married doesn’t seem too bad, right?” he scratches the back of his neck nervously. Truth is, Matt never knew if marriage was a goal for you. You came from a divorced household, so he always thought it was a sensitive topic for you. He wasn’t wrong and he never brought it up. 
“Well, duh,” you say a little louder than expected. All the guests are exiting their chairs, relocating to the reception tables. Matt snakes a hand around your waist as the two of you follow the group of people. “I know we’ve never talked about it, but marriage is a big goal of mine,” you tell him honestly, “and I hope it's one of yours too.”
Your words make Matt abruptly stop in his tracks. The sudden halt makes you stop with him, tripping over your own two feet. Matt keeps his grip on your waist firm, not letting you faceplant and he turns you to him. “Of course, I want to marry you, Y/n. This isn’t just fun and games to me, this is serious. I want it all with you, I want to put a ring on that finger and babies in that belly,” his fingertips dig into your waist as he talks, lifting your hand and stroking your ring finger. He brings it up to his lips, giving your hand a small peck, “don’t think any different, okay?”
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cogentsummoner · 2 days ago
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4- lips barely touching small all might x reader
4. lips barely touching
however, this fic is also heavily inspired by these three pieces of art!
You're not sure if he's aware of how obvious he's being.
It's the Might Tower Employee Christmas Party™, and your boss- or rather, your boss' boss, one Mr. Yagi- has been staring wistfully at the mistletoe since he arrived.
Not that you've been watching him the whole time, mind you. That would be weird.
He's been staring at the mistletoe in between chatting with some other folks, but he hasn't yet worked up the courage to walk under it. It's not too out of the way, but it's also not, y'know, literally in the doorway. Easy to avoid if you want, but also easy enough to bump into someone accidentally, too.
And that's your plan.
"I do think having me come with you to peer pressure the kiss is the best option," your friend says before downing the rest of his eggnog. "Mr. Yagi is liable to run away like a startled deer if you don't."
"See, I think the peer pressure will just make him more anxious," you counter.
You like Mr. Yagi. He's quite possibly the nicest boss('s boss) you've ever had. He remembers everyone's birthdays, he's always happy to talk to...well, anyone, really, and he's just... sweet. Sweet and genuine in a way that's incredibly endearing. And attractive.
Okay, so maybe you have a little crush on Mr. Yagi. And maybe this whole mistletoe thing is the perfect excuse to kiss him. If he didn't want to be kissed, maybe he shouldn't be- oh fuck, he's finally making his move, he's making a beeline for that mistletoe!
"Oh, shit, go go go!" your friend whisper-yells, giving you a firm shove in the direction of that same mistletoe.
Fuck, okay, you can do this.
Mr. Yagi notices you as stumble towards him, stopping just underneath the mistletoe, and just like he always does, he gives you that big, bright smile you love so much.
Then- and you can see this happen in real time- it clicks in his brain where you both are, and a deep blush blooms on his face.
You look from him, to the mistletoe, then back to him, feeling warmth spread over your own cheeks.
"It's- um- we don't have to! If you're uncomfortable!" he rushes to reassure you, and you can't help but let out a little giggle. It's cute. He's cute.
"I'm comfortable," you reply with a shy smile. "If you are."
He nods shakily, his hand trembling just the slightest bit as it cups your cheek and he slowly leans down.
"You're certain?" he asks, and you wonder for a moment if you'd misread the situation, and he actually just doesn't want to kiss you, but...there's something quiet and wanting in his gaze, all the same.
So it was probably just nerves. You nod, trying not to look too eager. Yes, you want him to kiss you. God, do you want him to kiss you.
His eyes squeeze shut when he finally closes that distance, his lips brushing against yours softly, so softly. Too softly. Way, way too softly, and way too quick.
He pulls back, still trembling, just the slightest bit, his gaze full of longing.
You let out a huff, and bring your hands up to cup his face.
"Mr. Yagi, what kind of kiss was that?" you admonish playfully. Before he can get any wrong ideas in his head, you pull him back down into a kiss- a real kiss this time.
It takes a second for his brain to catch up to what was happening- then, he absolutely melts in your hands, his own hands shyly coming to rest on your waist.
It's clearly been a long time since he'd been kissed- which does blow a hole in the rumor that Mr. Yagi and All Might were sleeping together-but he certainly doesn't want for enthusiasm or passion.
You're all too happy to lean into it, one hand sliding back to play with the hair at the back of his neck. The two of you would've been content to stay like that, had you both not been reminded-
The sound of a camera going off rings through the air.
-that you had an audience.
Mr. Yagi immediately pulls back, face flushing a deep red as he looks around and realizes - yep, a lot of your coworkers were unabashedly staring at the spectacle you two had made of yourselves.
You know they mean no harm- Mr. Yagi was very, very well liked, even if he wasn't the best at actually doing his job, and the only enemies you've made at work have been that one guy in accounting. Everyone's just caught up in what must look like a cute little moment.
But Mr. Yagi wasn't seeing it that way, you can tell. His Adam's apple bobbed as he swallowed, and there was sweat breaking out on his face. He felt exposed, maybe even humiliated.
So you don't take it personally when he turns to you and says limply, "I-I… I should go, I'm… I'm sorry. Merry Christmas."
You watch him practically run out of there, his face burning, your heart sinking despite yourself.
It's a few minutes later when a coworker who'd come in late walks over to you and tells you, "Hey, I think Mr. Yagi just went back to his office- when I walked by him, he'd pressed up on the elevator."
You nod, and thank them. It's good that he hasn't left- you'll give him about ten minutes to compose himself, then go check on him. No way were you letting this moment fade into an embarrassing memory for either of you. Not after that kiss.
prompt list/ accepting!
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