#since they don’t exactly raise their own young | Explore Tumblr Posts and Blogs

ichorai · 10 months

Text

thread ; coriolanus snow.

pairing ; young!coriolanus snow x capitol!reader (gender-neutral)

synopsis ; “they’re all just copying us, you know,” he said, sounding almost bitter.

“of course they are,” you replied, taking a drawn-out sip from your cup. “we showed them there’s no sharks in the water. obviously they’re going to jump in.”

words ; 6.6k

themes ; mild fluff/angst, action

warnings / includes ; themes of classism, violence/injury/death/drug misuse, coryo's paranoia, he isn't exactly toxic yet but the seeds are very much planted, i tried to keep him in character as best i could </3

series masterlist. main masterlist.

Coriolanus came late to class. He rushed in, uniform only slightly askew, and hair messier than usual. You moved your bag aside so he could take a seat beside you. With a nod, he slipped into the row and began laying out his books.

You wondered how Tigris reacted once he got back home. Probably worried sick for her cousin and her friend. Your father, of course, was furious with you once he learned about your tryst with Coriolanus in the Capitol Zoo, but there was little he could do when he was off working in the districts. During dinner with your mother, Lucretius Flickerman, and his wife, the tributes and the games were practically all the three could talk about. Lucky was going to be the first ever host, apparently.

How fun.

To neither of your surprise, Highbottom eyed the two of you with disdain. When you had strode into the hall, he remained silent. Coriolanus’ arrival seemed to tip him right over the edge.

“Both of your little excursions were in violation of about five different academy rules,” he grumbled. “Chiefly amongst them—endangering a Capitol student. Yourselves.”

“There were peacekeepers crawling all over the place,” Coriolanus retorted.

The dean’s nose twitched angrily. Then, he fixed you with a harsh look over his spectacles, and drawled out your name. “Since you are the academy’s brightest, and your records have been… untarnished until now, I will let you off with a warning.” There was a pause, before the dean continued. “Mr. Snow, I’m moving for the gamemakers to disqualify you as mentor, effective immediately.”

“What?” the two of you exclaimed at once.

“You said we had to get them to perform, not stay away!” Coriolanus just about spat.

“I’ll add insubordination, as well,” Highbottom replied, tone venomous.

Raising your hand and ignoring the dean’s irritated exhale, you haughtily said, “It was me who went into the tribute’s truck. Coriolanus only followed. We didn’t know that we’d end up in a zoo enclosure.”

Arachne tittered with condescending laughter. “Yeah, and then you held hands with them. Made it seem like we’re the same as those animals.”

From your other side, Sejanus was quick to defend the two of you. “Coriolanus and Y/N didn’t show those people anything they didn’t already know.”

Stiffening, Coryo scowled and said, “I don’t need your help, Sejanus.”

He ignored him and continued on, “That the tributes are human beings, just like us. That’s why nobody wants to watch the games—because people know, deep down, that winning a war ten years ago doesn’t justify starving people’s children, taking away their freedoms, their rights!”

“Dean Highbottom,” you called, not bothering to raise your hand this time. “How is it fair that Coriolanus gets disqualified while I’m not? We did what you told us to do! We were just trying to get to know our tributes.”

“Would you like to be disqualified as well? I can surely arrange for that to happen,” he deadpanned. “But poor little Wovey would be left all on her own.”

Nausea coiled within your abdomen. You drew yourself up to your full height. “Well, that would be entirely unnecessary—”

Before you could finish your sentence, the doors to the lecture theater swung open once more, and Dr. Volumnia Gaul crept in, footsteps completely silent. How she managed that, you weren’t at all sure.

With everyone’s eyes on her, she fixed her stare on the two of you. Her hair was wrangled back into a high up-do, tall and grey on her head.

“Quite a show you two put on. You’re good players,” she said, voice booming throughout the theater. “The hunger games needs good players. Maybe one day you’ll be gamemakers, like me.”

The thought sent chills up your spine. Coriolanus kept his expression stoic.

“If the games continue at all,” said Highbottom.

Singular blue eye flashing, Dr. Gaul grinned in an unnerving manner. “Oh, they’ll continue. With performances like young Snow and L/N in that zoo? The people would never stop wanting for more.” She drew closer to the rows of seats, gloved hand trailing over a few of the desks. “I came here to ask the star mentors a question… what are the hunger games for?”

You and Coriolanus exchanged a quick glance.

“They’re to punish the districts for their uprising,” he said, as if it were obvious. “To commemorate the end of the war.”

Volumnia’s tongue darted out to wet her lips, in a similar fashion to a snake.

“And what would you say, Y/N?”

It was hard to maintain eye contact with her, especially because it felt like she could peer into your very soul and dissect you apart from inside out—but you managed. With your father being such an avid supporter of the hunger games, you wondered if your answer would be what she was looking for. “I don’t agree with the games. But I know it’s because—fear is power. Keep the districts afraid for themselves, for their children, and you’ll always have the upper hand.”

She smiled, wide and eerie. “You’re right. Fear is power. But punishment and fear can take many forms. They can come from bomb droppings, the cancelling of food shipments, stage executions. The question is, why games?”

Defensive, Sejanus spoke up, “Shouldn’t we be asking whether or not it’s right in the first place?”

“You have a problem with my games?” she asked, unimpressed.

“Some of those kids were two years old when the war ended! The oldest of them were only eight!” he exclaimed. “The Capitol is supposed to be everyone’s government now. It is supposed to protect all of us. I don’t see how making children fight each other to the death is protecting anyone.”

With a sneer, Dr. Gaul told him, “That sort of sympathy might be interfering with your mentoring assignment, Mr. Plinth.”

Finally, Highbottom said to his colleague, “Perhaps Capitol students are ill-suited to be mentoring tributes. Perhaps the games’ time has passed.”

Yes, you thought. It’s time to let it go.

To your surprise, Coriolanus abruptly stood up from his seat. “Dean Highbottom is wrong,” he asserted. “My classmates, too. Maybe Sejanus is onto something here. We should be viewing those tributes as human beings. You saw those kids at the zoo. They just wanted to get to know Lucy Gray. If we need people to watch, we should let them get closer to the tributes before the games. Make the stakes personal.”

“Who would watch the games if they care what happens to the tributes?” Dr. Gaul asked, as if the notion of caring about district folk was ludicrous.

“Everyone,” replied Coriolanus. “Especially if they thought the tribute they cared about had a chance of winning. People need someone to root for and someone to root against! And if we bend a few Capitol laws, we can even have them place bets.”

You felt sick as you looked up at Coriolanus with a mildly disturbed expression. If he noticed, he didn’t give you any indication.

“I know Lucy Gray may not win in the arena,” he continued. “But if you give her a chance—I would bet the Plinth prize that she could win people’s attention.”

Dr. Gaul was effectively intrigued.

“I would like you to write up a proposal of these thoughts tonight, Mr. Snow,” she said.

Clemensia, strong-headed as ever, stood up and said that she should be working with Coriolanus, as his class partner.

With an amused snicker, Volumnia bowed her head and made her way back to the door. “It’ll be an interesting test,” she ominously said before turning on her heel and exiting, her dark cloak billowing out behind her.

During lunch, you sat down across from Coriolanus in the cafeteria, noticing that he had three sandwiches stacked on his plate, along with half a dozen cookies on another. It was a rare thing, seeing him with so much food. Usually he opted for just starving himself to save some money, despite your urges to get him to eat.

“Hungry?” you asked with an arched brow, but he shook his head.

“It’s for Lucy Gray,” he replied, staring down at the food. Then, he pulled out a red handkerchief and started wrapping the food up. “I’m going back.”

With a soft sigh, you started digging into your own lunch. “Hopefully not inside this time.”

He spared you half a smile, though it didn’t quite reach his eyes. “Are you coming? Everyone else is. I heard Arachne tell Felix she’s going to use food to get her tribute to do tricks for her.”

With a wrinkle of your nose, you glanced over at her several tables down. “Sounds like something she’d say.” You took a bite of your food and chewed thoughtfully.

“They’re all just copying us, you know,” he said, sounding almost bitter.

“Of course they are,” you replied, taking a drawn-out sip from your cup. “We showed them there’s no sharks in the water. Obviously they’re going to jump in.”

He tied the handkerchief together so the sandwiches and cookies would stay put. “They’re all sheep. No original thought whatsoever.”

There it was again, your wind-chime laugh. Coriolanus smiled down at his plate, now empty save for a few bread crumbs.

“It’s not that big of a deal, Coryo. Besides, I’m glad most of the class is going. The tributes must be starving in there,” you told him. “I’ll come and bring some food for Wovey.”

A voice from your right jutted into your conversation, Sejanus’ angry face coming into view as he slammed down his lunch tray in the empty spot beside you. “You guys going to fatten up your tributes so you can finally start taking bets?” he just about snarled.

“Do you think they’ll give those kids a scrap if we don’t give them a reason to do it?” Coriolanus responded defensively, leaning forward with narrowed eyes. “How do you think your tribute will have a chance if he can’t eat?”

“We can’t send them back to their homes,” you told Sejanus in a juxtaposingly calm tone. “The best we can do for them now is help them out here.”

The curly-haired man slumped forward, his shoulder stooping like an old wildflower. “He was my classmate,” he muttered. “Back in two.”

Though you gave Sejanus a sympathetic look, Coryo regarded Sejanus as if he was confused. He wondered why Sejanus even bothered to care this much when he was no longer a part of the districts.

“It’s not your fault that—” Coriolanus began, but was swiftly interrupted.

“Oh, yeah, I’m so blameless I’m choking on it!” he gritted out. Then, he let out a shaky breath, trying to steel himself. “My father bought him for me, you know. At the reaping. Just so he could show me that I could never go back to two.”

A frown marred your features. “He bribed Highbottom?”

“Something like that,” Sejanus told you, using the prongs of his fork to poke and prod at his food. “Morphling costs a pretty penny.”

Silence stretched over the three of you for a few seconds. Coriolanus looked annoyed, but Sejanus didn’t seem to notice.

“Being in the Capitol is going to kill me,” he sighed.

This made Coryo scowl. “So do something about it.”

Sejanus’ dark eyes flitted over to the bundle of food in Coriolanus’ hands. “You’re quite the rebel.”

Coriolanus retorted, “Oh, yeah. I’m bad news.”

When he said that, he’d expected you to laugh again, but you kept quiet, staring down at your now-unappetizing lunch.

There was a considerably larger crowd around the enclosure that evening. You had a small basket clutched in one hand, consisting of juice boxes (still grape, since you now knew it was a safe option), soft bread rolls, and wrapped leftovers from your dinner with Lucky. You hoped Wovey wasn’t allergic to anything—you’d forgotten to ask in the heat of it all.

Coriolanus still only had the few sandwiches he saved from lunch, but you assured him that you were more than happy to share with Lucy Gray if need be.

She looked much more haggard tonight, most of her makeup smeared off, her lips chapped and bleeding at the center from what you assumed was anxious biting, and her hair was more unruly. Though her eyes still held the same fire, the same passion, lighting up when she noticed the two of you approaching. She asked if the food was for them with slight surprise—you often forget that they hadn’t much to eat in the districts, anyway—and took what was offered, before handing off a good portion of it to her district partner, Jessup. The larger man declined the food at first, claiming he wasn’t hungry, but eventually caved and took the sandwiches.

When he turned to walk off, Coriolanus asked about the nasty wound on his neck. It was just behind his ear and oozing with blood and pus. A bat bite on the train, Lucy Gray told the two of you, looking awfully guilty on behalf of her friend.

Crooning from a little way’s away drew your attention to Arachne and her tribute. She was dangling a cold bottle of water just inches from the tribute’s reach, urging her to beg.

Lucy Gray’s brows cinched. “One thing I learned in twelve is that hunger is a weapon. Your friend over there sure knows it.”

The two of you scoffed at the same time.

“She is not my friend,” Coriolanus told her. “She is poison with perfect teeth.”

“How such a vile tongue hides behind those pearly whites, I wouldn’t ever know,” you remarked, earning you a snicker from Coriolanus. Finally, you peered around for Wovey, eager to finally get her something to eat. However, curse your damned softening heart, your eyes grew gentle upon seeing her curled up by the very same tree stump, head resting on Bobbin’s shoulder, fast asleep.

Lucy Gray casted a glimpse over her shoulder to see what you were looking at.

“Could you give this to her?” you asked, slotting the small basket between the enclosure’s metal bars. “When she wakes up, that is. She must be famished. Feel free to take anything in there, but just… leave some for her.”

The girl nodded, taking the basket from you and handing it over to Jessup, who cradled it as if it were more precious than gold. You watched him carefully—not because you were worried he was going to keep all the food to himself, but because you were curious as to why he hadn’t reached in to take anything for himself yet, even after several minutes passed by.

Coriolanus leaned forward, wrapping a hand around one of the bars as he lowered his voice. “Are you going to share everything with Jessup?”

Lucy Gray’s expression faltered. “Why? You think I oughta build up my strength to strangle him in the arena? Not exactly my forte.”

“I might have a chance to help you,” he told her, watching her keenly. “To make some suggestions to the gamemakers. I might even be able to get the audience to send you gifts in the arena. Food, and water, to keep you going. You just have to try singing again.”

Firmly, Lucy Gray said, “I don’t sing when I’m told, I sing when I have something to say.”

“And you have nothing to say?” you asked her, head tilting. “The whole world is watching, Lucy Gray. Now’s your chance.”

A myriad of emotions crossed over her face. “It doesn’t matter much now, does it? I’ve seen the arena—there’s nowhere to hide. What’s the point?” Her gaze traveled from you to Coriolanus. “The guards say you get money if you get more people to watch and you say you want to help me. Which is it?”

“Both?” he offered.

It didn’t satisfy her, but it was enough, for now.

Then, she grabbed a sandwich from the red handkerchief and took a large bite, a muffled noise of appreciation falling from her lips.

“Bread’s soft,” she said around a mouthful. “Softer than in twelve.”

Then, she offered a cookie to Coriolanus. He began to protest, but she insisted he take it.

“I saw you staring,” she said. “I always thought there was plenty of food in the Capitol.”

Coriolanus laughed, a coarse and unrefined sound. “One time during the war, I ate a whole jar of paste just to stop the pain in my stomach.”

A match of pity struck within the confines of your chest, but you remained quiet. Coriolanus told you stories of his times during the war often—usually after the two of you laid together, sweaty and naked, bearing your souls to one another. Pillow talk made him quite emotional, you found.

“And how was it?” Lucy Gray queried, eyes round.

Coriolanus took a bite of the cookie, humming in though. Then, he shrugged. “Pasty,” he said.

Lucy Gray laughed. She looked back to you, appreciative. “Thank you, for the food. I’m sure the little one’s going to be happy.” Your eyes flickered back to Wovey. She stirred a bit on Bobbin’s shoulder, but remained asleep. “She’s so sweet. So young. Something about her reminds me of my cousin, Maude Ivory. I can’t stand to think of them without me like this.”

“I’m sorry,” Coriolanus whispered.

You nodded in agreement. “They’re waiting for you, I’m sure. You’ll see them again.”

Lucy Gray smiled sadly. “I won’t hold you to that.” Then, after she took another bite, she blew out a gentle sigh. “You two seem like… genuine folk. It sure would’ve been nice to meet you under different circumstances.”

Coriolanus leaned his head against the enclosure’s bars. “One of your shows, maybe.”

Somehow, her smile grew impossibly wider, but her eyes shone with unshed tears. “Yeah. Yeah, I would’ve liked that.” With a light sniffle, she asked the two of you, “You two keen on dancing?”

You thought back to all the dance lessons you were forced to take as a young child. It was never your strong suit. “Not really, no. Coriolanus is much better than I am.”

“Not your fancy Capitol dancing,” she told you, waving a hand in the air. “Dancing like you’re free. Dancing with no rules. Just the music, to guide you.”

Both you and Coriolanus exchanged glances. “Can’t say I’ve tried,” you replied. “But it sounds fun.”

Lucy Gray nodded, showing more enthusiasm than you’d ever seen in her before. “You’d have the time of your life. If you ever visit… I’d love for you to come. Both of you—we’d have a drink. Share a dance or two. We’d have all the time in the world. People always say our music shows are the best places for romantic dates. It’d be perfect for you two.”

It was a pleasant fantasy to entertain. But that’s all it was—a fantasy. When you looked at Coriolanus, his expression was simultaneously strained and distant, as if he were far away, thinking of other things. You reached out to place your hand on his shoulder.

But before you could, screams erupted from around the enclosure, followed closely by shattering glass. You whipped your head away from Lucy Gray, seeing Arachne’s tribute jabbing the broken glass bottle straight into her jugular. Coriolanus yelled something—you weren’t entirely sure what, but he jumped up to grab Arachne, applying pressure to the wound.

It wasn’t enough.

Blood, dark and viscous and filling the air with the smell of copper, began to pool around her neck, down her shoulders, filling the crevices of her collarbones. She was blubbering something, gargling through blood, but you couldn’t quite hear with the loud static buzzing in your ears.

You glanced to the side, catching sight of peacekeepers lining up their guns to shoot. You rushed forward to get to Coriolanus, yanking him down just as several shots rang out. He was whimpering, telling Arachne to hold on for him, but when you frantically reached down to feel for her pale wrist’s pulse—it wasn’t there.

Arachne was dead.

You clambered off of Coriolanus, away from the dead girl, backing away. You only barely registered Sejanus calling out your name in concern, but you didn’t pay him any mind. Instead, you turned your eyes to the tributes, all ducking and cowering behind trees and tires. To your relief, Wovey was now awake, eyes wide as she crouched behind the tree stump with Bobbin.

The relief was short-lived, however, because peacekeepers began urging everybody away from the enclosure. You reached out for Coriolanus, taking his arm. He was shaking, eyes as large as saucers and visibly distraught.

The two of you walked to his estate in tense silence.

Once there, Grandma’am and Tigris fawned over the two of you, though in far different ways. Grandma’am dove into a lecture about rebels and how lucky the two of you were that your tributes hadn’t done the very same. Tigris wrapped a warm shawl over you and a patched blanket over her cousin, telling Grandma’am that Lucy Gray and Wovey weren’t rebels, just innocent girls.

“Trust me, that one hasn’t been a girl in a long time,” Grandma’am bitterly retorted. “Outside this Capitol, they’re savages, however they may smile. She will use you, Coriolanus. You must use her or you’ll end up dead in the trees, like your father.”

Coriolanus stiffened.

An hour later, he tugged you into his room and kissed you hard and desperate, as if he wanted to distract himself from his own thoughts. You were the one to pull away, even if everything inside you was screaming to stay. You almost caved, almost, when his head dipped forward in an attempt to capture your lips again, but you placed the tips of your fingers over his mouth with a soft, sympathetic smile. You hugged him tight until he stopped trembling, and reluctantly drew yourself away from him. After embracing Tigris goodnight, you walked home alone with your thoughts, wondering if the games were going to continue in lieu of the evening’s events.

There was an assembly held at the academy for Arachne’s death, followed promptly by a proper funeral. Though, it didn’t quite feel proper with all the cameras and reporters hovering around. You wondered if people were expecting to see you cry. You were incredibly shaken, sure, but were you sad?

It’d be a lie if you said yes.

They made sure to zoom in on you and Coriolanus when you kissed him on the cheek and squeezed his hand just before he was appointed to go on stage and sing the national anthem. Why he was the one to do so, the two of you had no idea. It’s not like Arachne was friends with him, despite what the reporters wanted to think. It was a ridiculous waste of breath, he thought, singing for a girl he barely knew.

After Coriolanus’ performance, President Ravinstill gave a rather monotonous speech about courage and bravery. How Arachne was going to be sorely missed. Right—of course she was.

And the very next day, life moved on. As if Arachne’s death had never happened.

Soon after, they had all the mentors and tributes gathered into one of the academy halls— with the tributes shackled to tables, of course. It wasn’t like there was anywhere for them to run. You’d seen all the peacekeepers lining the hallways outside.

“In spite of yesterday’s tragic events,” Highbottom said, not a shred of sincerity to be found in his tone, “our President has decided that the games must go on. Show everyone that the Capitol is unafraid of such acts of terror. To which end Dr. Gaul wishes you to preview the arena this afternoon with your tributes. Later this evening, there will be a special, televised presentation of each tribute to our audience so they could… get to know them.”

A glorified show-and-tell, you dryly thought. How wonderful.

You and Coriolanus looked at each other for a brief moment—he’d ask Lucy Gray to sing again, you were certain. Then, you turned back forward, where Wovey was fiddling with her thumbs, sniffling a few times.

“You’ll have an hour to discuss strategy,” said the dean, before whisking himself off to the shadows of the room to down another vial of morphling.

You sat down in front of your tribute, trying your best to offer her a warm smile.

“Did you like the food I brought? Was it okay?” you whispered, making sure to lower your voice.

A nod, a scuffle of feet. Her bottom lip trembled.

Gnawing on the inside of your cheek, you moved on to the pressing matter at hand. “Okay, Wovey. I need… I need to know what you’re good at. Are you a fast runner?”

She thought for a moment, but then shook her head.

“I know you can climb?”

She let out a shaky sigh. “I used to climb in my mama’s factory all the time. Trees, too.”

“Good. That’s good,” you murmured, pulling out a notepad so you could jot some things down. “Are you good at hiding? Staying still?”

“I think so,” she said, looking awfully uncomfortable. “Will I go back home if I win?”

A sharp pang hit you square in the chest. You tore your gaze away from your notes on the paper to look at her.

“Yes,” you hesitantly replied. “They’ll take you home.”

This seemed to satisfy her for the time being. Gave her hope that you perhaps shouldn’t have instilled.

You swallowed the lump in your throat. “So—for your televised presentation. We need to win the audience over so they send in donations—I’d be able to send you things. What do you want to do?”

After quite a bit of back and forth, you managed to get Wovey to agree to talk about her family on stage. How much she missed them. It wasn’t much, but perhaps the youngest tribute sympathy card would push the odds in your favor.

Halfway through the hour, however, Coriolanus and Clemensia were called away by Highbottom—most likely to discuss the proposal Coryo had written up once you left the estate. You made a mental note to ask him how it goes once you saw him again. You felt bad, seeing Lucy Gray sitting all alone, bound hands lightly rapping against the table’s wood.

By the stroke of four in the afternoon, they gathered all the mentors and tributes in front of the arena. Coriolanus came bounding up to the group just seconds away from the gates opening, appearing breathless and mildly frazzled.

“You okay? Where’s Clemmie?” you asked, resting a hand on his elbow, brows kinking with confusion.

“She’s… not going to make it.” He winced, appearing distinctly torn. “I’ll tell you later.”

There was a brief silence where you scrutinized him, eyes wide. Something bad happened when he was with Dr. Gaul, and you weren’t too keen on finding out.

You walked alongside Coriolanus into the arena, with your two tributes in front of you. Lucy Gray was saying something comforting to Wovey in that sweet voice of hers, and for that you were grateful. The last thing you needed was Wovey to break down in an anxious mess.

The arena itself was spacious but incredibly rundown, crumbling under the weight of its neglected upkeep. The glass roof was stained and dusty, rusty slants creaking as they parted to filter sunlight into the dome.

“Welcome to the arena of the 10th annual hunger games,” a distorted voice echoed through the arena’s shoddy speaker system. “Tributes, mentors, you have fifteen minutes to survey the space and discuss strategy.”

With one final squeeze on Coriolanus’ shoulder, you parted ways with him, stepping beside Wovey to urge her into a lap around the arena. Staggered rows of dusty seats lined the edges high above the ground—Wovey was a good climber, wasn’t she?

You tried your best to give her advice. “Hiding in the seats is your best option. Climbing over the rows whenever someone comes to attack you should buy you time. You’re small, too—I think you’d be able to crawl beneath the seats to get away. As for weapons… maybe grab something small from the center. A knife or a dagger. But only if you have time, and only if you know you can make it. If not, just make a break for the seats, as fast as you can. Got that, sweetheart?”

Wovey stayed silent. But she nodded. Nodded and nodded until you worried her head was going to pop right off.

You bent down at the waist slightly so that you were eye-level with her. “I’ll be watching you the whole time. I’m there if you need m—”

Sudden explosions rang out about the arena. Plumes of dust flew everywhere, blinding you almost instantaneously. With your eyes squeezed shut, you felt the ground shake and split and rumble until another closer explosion flung you a good few feet off the ground. You landed on your side with a strangled scream, though the pain only registered a few seconds later. Cracking your aching eyes open and squinting through the haze of dust, you caught sight of shattered glass thundering around you like crystalized rain, nicking your skin with sharp pin pricks.

Your right side buzzed with warmth. Something damp. You dazedly looked down.

Oh.

It seemed you’d landed right on a broken metal pipe, sticking right out of your abdomen. Blood was pooling down your academy uniform, soaking the fabric a far more sinister shade of red. You choked out something akin to a dry sob, before screaming out for help. You heard dozens of similar cries echo back to you.

With a grunt, you pushed yourself up,

“CORYO?!” you screamed as loud as you could. Faintly, you could hear his strained voice echo your name back—somewhere across the arena, you’d wager.

The pain was starting to grow worse. Searing, almost, as if you were being laid over an open fire. You staggered through the rubble, pressing a hand to your side in a terrible attempt to staunch the bleeding, careful not to jostle the pipe. It was probably the only thing keeping you from bleeding out right then and there.

As you kept moving, you caught sight of a large, gaping hole at the opposite end of the arena. There were tributes running out. Peacekeepers shooting them. The explosions had been so loud that your ears were ringing with terrible white noise—you couldn’t even hear the sound of the rifles blasting.

You glanced around wildly.

You spotted the small little girl near the edge of the arena. Running with Dill, you realized, mind still lagging a second too late from shock. Another explosion rattled through the arena—this time, crumbling the roof away completely.

With a mangled noise, you began limping as quickly as you could.

Another call of your name, echoing and rattling about your skull, and Coriolanus materialized right beside you out of seemingly nowhere. There were two of him, you realized. He appeared fuzzy.

You reached out for him, but he suddenly pulled you forward, yelling something. Something you couldn’t hear. A flash of rainbow by his left, and you saw Lucy Gray just barely escape being crushed by a large stone support column.

More crumbling ceiling. Coriolanus’ hands were cold when he urgently shoved you forward. So hard that you went tumbling down, screaming with the sudden painful jolts the metal pipe sent shooting up your spine. A second later, you blearily looked around for Coriolanus—realizing that he’d pushed you into the clear when you found him pinned down under heavy foundational slants—and they’d caught on fire.

Numb panic shot through your mind. You barely registered your own voice croaking out his name. You tried to crawl towards him, but he only seemed to get farther away.

The last thing you saw before your eyes rolled into the back of your head and you went careening backwards was the rainbow dress, and wild, dark hair.

The hospital bed was far from comfortable, but you’d been so tired you were knocked out for half of the day. Though, Tigris told you that you did sort of wake up at some point in the night, mumbling Coriolanus’ name with half-cracked eyes, before falling right back asleep.

He’d startled awake before you—rushing to your bed (right beside his) and taking your limp hand in his cold, clammy one. Brushed the hair away from your forehead and muttered apologies and please don’t die like they were a mantra.

When you finally stirred, you nearly burst into tears upon seeing Coriolanus.

“I thought you died,” you dry-sobbed. Your side ached considerably with the effort. “I thought I was going to die.”

He drew you into a loose hug, careful to avoid your bandaged midriff. He pressed a kiss to your forehead. “I’m here. I love you—I’m not going anywhere, okay? Lucy Gray saved you. Saved us.”

“She did?” you croaked, voice soft. Yes, you sort of remembered. It was all a blur.

“She caught you before you could crack your head open on the ground,” said another voice. You turned your stiff neck to see Sejanus at the foot of the other side of your bed, next to Tigris, who was running her hand up and down your arm in a comforting manner.

You blew out a shaky sigh. Your head pulsed, and you suddenly felt nauseous. “What… what happened?”

They took turns explaining. Rebel bombing. The dead tributes. The president’s son, Felix, in critical condition. Sejanus’ tribute missing. How the games were still commencing regardless. The pipe that had been lodged in your abdomen missing any vital organs. How you were lucky to be alive.

“Wovey?” you whispered. “Is she okay?”

Coriolanus smoothed a hand over your head. “She’s okay. Not one of the ones that died.”

“Lucy Gray?” you whispered.

“Alive. She could have run. She stayed back to help you and me,” he said as his hand traveled down to gently cup your face. There were dark circles under his eyes. “I owe her now. She saved the love of my life.”

“Oh, Coryo—are you okay? Are you hurt?” Your gaze roamed all over his form, clad in an identical hospital gown.

“A few burns and bruises. Nothing compared to you.”

You drew in a staggered breath. Every muscle and tendon in your body screamed with even the slightest movements.

Tigris squeezed your hand. “We were so worried for you. Coriolanus couldn’t sleep all night. Your mother came by earlier but she had to leave—a spill in the lab, or something. And your father sends his love from district two. Your mother said he was furious. Military is doubling down.”

“Typical,” you whispered, supplying the three with half a weary smile, glad that they were there for you. “I can’t believe they’re going on with the games tomorrow. This is absurd.”

“They don’t want to seem weak,” Sejanus bitterly replied. “But you woke up just in time. The televised presentations are starting soon.”

Nearly an hour later, Sejanus switched on the television set hanging in front of the beds. Tribute after tribute went by, most of them appearing gaunt and exhausted. True to what the two of you had discussed, Wovey got on stage and talked about her family back in district eight, despite looking rather shaken. The audience crooned and sighed with pity. Donations were sparse, but still more than you had expected, to your bittersweet relief. You watched from the hospital bed, curled up with Tigris at the head of it, your head on her shoulder, whilst Sejanus and Coriolanus were standing far closer to the curved screen.

Lucy Gray was the last to go on. She had a guitar with her. And she sang a beautiful song—one about a boy back from home, she said. The audience cheered and sniffled. Even the nurses stopped their bustling to watch, some of them discreetly wiping away tears.

Once visiting hours were over and Tigris and Sejanus were shooed out of the hospital, Coriolanus sat beside you and slung an arm over your shoulder. He slotted his fingers beneath your chin and kissed you deeply. It was a slow embrace, with not a hint of sexual intentions—he just wanted to hold you. Remind himself that you were still alive, still here, still his.

Your nose nudged his when he laid his forehead over yours. The two of you breathed in each other’s comforting presence. Just the two of you. It reminded you of when times were so… uncomplicated. Before all the mentoring came along, the only things you had to worry about were grades and Coriolanus’ refusals to eat properly.

Then, he told you about Clemensia. How she was probably somewhere in this very building. How she screamed when she was bitten by the snake muttation. Your mind raced with questions, but you yawned instead and leaned against his chest.

“I love you, too, Coryo,” you whispered into his hospital gown, realizing you hadn’t said it back earlier.

A few minutes later, you were back asleep. Coriolanus was careful not to wake you when he laid you back down. Tucked the blanket up to your chin. He kissed your hairline once more, regarding you with a fond expression, before straightening, trying his best to ignore the aches blossoming over his back and legs.

And then he left the ward, assuring the doctors that he was fine and he could be discharged. They reluctantly agreed after a brief check-up, and had him sign off for himself. Once he was out, he immediately set off for the arena, trying to search for something, anything to keep his tribute alive.

Tunnels. The ground had collapsed into them, giving Lucy Gray a perfect place to run and hide. He went back home, making sure Grandma’am and Tigris were asleep—before pouring a copious amount of powdered rat poison into his late mother’s compact.

It was cheating. But you and Sejanus had both said it before—he was a rebel by nature. Bad news.

He visited the zoo enclosure and gave it to her then, informing her of the tunnels. Wiped her tears with a handkerchief, then told her he owed her his life and more. That you were okay, and it was all thanks to her. Lucy Gray looked overwhelmed for a moment. She did what any decent person would, she thought. He promised her that she’d get out. Return home to the Covey. False hope whispered unrealistic dreams into her ears and she let herself listen.

“We all do things we’re not proud of to survive,” he whispered when Lucy Gray attempted to protest, not wanting to poison anyone. He pushed the compact firmly into her hands. “Do it for your family.”

Conflict warred across her features. She nodded once, then twice.

Coriolanus' expression set with determination. “We are going to win this, Lucy Gray. We’re going to win this together. I’m going to get you home.”

#coriolanus snow x reader #coriolanus snow fanfiction #coriolanus snow fluff #coriolanus snow x you #hunger games fanfiction #coriolanus snow drabbles #tbosas fanfiction #tbosas x reader #young!coriolanus snow x reader #young!coriolanus snow #coriolanus snow #coriolanus snow angst

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lemonlover1110 · 5 months

Text

𝐂𝐡𝐚𝐧𝐠𝐞𝐬

Satoru Gojo

[Chapter 24] The Truth

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Pairing: Satoru Gojo x f!Reader

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“What are you going to do with him again?” Satoru asks as you get ready to meet up with Suguru. He talks as if he has any right to know. You’re finishing up your makeup in your room while he stands in the doorway.

“Does it concern you?” You look back at him. And he sighs before shaking his head. He guesses it doesn’t. He can’t argue with you about it, yet he stands there, leaning on the doorframe. You finish putting on your lipstick before looking back at him and raising your eyebrows, “Aren’t you going to Ren? He’s waiting for you to talk about his birthday plans.”

“Right…” Satoru answers, turning around and going to Ren. He finally leaves you alone with your thoughts, finally not having to listen to his stupid comments. As much as you don’t enjoy his presence at the moment, you still have to tolerate him because of your son.

Slowly you are seeing his point of view, but that doesn’t mean you forgive him. Satoru was young, easy to manipulate– Well, you aren’t exactly focused on his age but more about the fact that Satoru was recently grieving the loss of his father and in a way felt threatened that he would lose everything simply for not following orders. What hurts you the most right now is that he didn’t even try to explain the situation to you, he assumed you were better off going your own separate ways.

“Mommy!” Ren comes running into your room, disrupting the peace that you were just granted. You look at the puppy eyes that adorn his face, and you already know he wants something. You allow him to speak first, not wanting to accuse him of something that he might not even do. But you’re proven right, “Can I get a puppy for my birthday?”

“Remind me how old you’re turning, Ren.” You tell him, and Ren holds up five fingers, a grin on his face as he shows off his big age. You fight back a smile, trying your best to remain as serious as you can possibly be. You won’t be easily convinced by him. “Five. Such a big age, right? But not enough to take care of a puppy, plus you’re starting school soon.”

“School?” Ren asks as if it’s the first time he hears of it. You’ve been preparing for him, telling him about it daily.

“You know, the place where you’ll be going to learn and make friends for the next thirteen or so years of your life.” You answer, and his mouth turns into a circle when he remembers. “Who’s going to take care of the puppy then? I still have to work.”

“Granny.” Ren answers, and you chuckle as you shake your head. Your mother isn’t exactly a big pet person, if you were to give her the responsibility of taking care of a puppy, she might just kill you. He puts his hands together and begs, “Please, mommy, please! I want a puppy!”

“Ren, we both know that–” You begin, but you realize you’re just wasting your breath. You look at the time, realizing that if you don’t finish up soon, you’ll be late. “Talk to your father about it, I have to finish getting ready.”

“Daddy!” Ren yells as he walks out of your bedroom. Maybe you made a mistake since Satoru loves to spoil Ren, and Satoru doesn’t like to think of additional responsibilities since he’s not the one that’s at Ren’s side at all times.

You’ll deal with it when Satoru attempts to get Ren a puppy, for now you’re going to focus on your own problems. Your own problem being your meeting with Suguru.

You wait for Suguru at the café near your apartment. You have a beverage in your hand, taking an occasional sip, making sure you don’t finish it before Suguru finally decides to show up. Your eyes are glued to the door, waiting for him to finally make his grand entrance.

You feel the nerves creeping through all of a sudden, and you have no idea why. Maybe it’s because you lied to him about Satoru, or maybe it’s because you’ve been avoiding his calls. You take a deep breath to calm your nerves, looking at the time. If he doesn’t get here within five minutes, you’ll leave. He’s running late, and you have no intention of waiting for him all day.

In reality, you’re just looking for an excuse to leave. You want to avoid this confrontation as much as you can, but you know you have to face him eventually. Suguru has been one of Satoru’s closest friends, and you were close to dating, the least you can do is give him one last conversation. You can’t avoid him forever.

Your eyes shift back and forth between the time and the door, mentally praying that he doesn’t show up. However, your prayers go unanswered when he walks through the door, his eyes immediately landing on you. He gives you a soft smile as he approaches your table.

“Hi, Suguru.” You try to return his smile, but it looks awkward. Suguru points at the counter, telling you that he’s going to get his beverage before sitting down with you, to which you nod in response. You take another deep breath, trying to calm yourself. He looks fine, and you hate to ruin his day– Perhaps he won’t care, but you doubt it. You told him a very serious lie about his best friend, you doubt he’ll be too happy with you after finding out.

“It’s so nice to see you after… So long.” Suguru sits across from you. You shift in your seat, adjusting your posture before focusing on him. You nod with an awkward smile on your face. At that moment you know, this is going to be a long hour.

“It is.” You agree before a long awkward pause ensues. You clear your throat, about to ask him how he’s been holding up, but Suguru has other plans when he speaks up before you,

“Why have you been avoiding me?” He goes straight to the point. There’s a reason why you two are there, and it isn’t for small talk. Maybe you can get to more fun matters later or another day, but not right now.

“I’ve just been busy with Satoru and figuring out this whole parent thing, that…” You begin with an excuse but you can’t finish the sentence. You bite down your lip before you take a deep breath. You have to say it, if you keep dragging it you’ll feel worse. “I partially lied to you. Satoru never suggested an abortion at the thought of me being pregnant, I didn’t tell him because he didn’t give me the chance to, and then I couldn’t tell him because… His mother didn’t want him to know.”

And he chuckles. Suguru lets out a laugh, which makes you furrow your brows. You expected many different reactions, but not a laugh. You chew on the inside of your cheek, anxiously waiting for him to say something else.

“Is that why you haven’t been answering my calls?” Suguru asks, and you hum in response even though it’s not all. He lets out another laugh, and you want to ask why he laughs but you decide against it. You wait for him to finally say something else, although time feels as if it slows down. “Did you think I wouldn’t find out?”

“Huh? What do you mean?” You sound utterly confused. What the hell is he talking about? How would Suguru know?

“I knew. I asked Satoru what he would’ve done if you had gotten pregnant and he said he would’ve stayed by your side.” He answers, and you let out a sigh of relief knowing that the situation won’t be the big mess that you were expecting. You do still feel guilty about it. “I mean sure… Satoru could’ve lied to me, but I don’t think he would have.”

“Why didn’t you say anything about it?” You’re curious as to why he decided to remain silent about this of all things. It’s a serious matter, which you would’ve expected him to furiously call you to berate you about. But you guess the man that sits across from you isn’t that type of person.

“You lied to me to protect your ass, and I can’t really blame you for it.” He shrugs, and he could’ve left it at that and it would’ve ended up perfectly fine. The conversation could’ve ended there and you would switch the topic and talk about more lighthearted stuff. But Suguru makes sure to add, “Plus Satoru also lied to you so you’re even, I guess.”

“Do you know?” You question, wondering why he brings up the fact that Satoru lied to you as well. You watch his cheeks turn pink when he realizes his words.

“Know what?” He stutters, which says all you need to know. He knows. For how long has he known? He realizes immediately that he’s messed up. He gave himself away.

“For how long have you known?” You immediately ask, and Suguru tries to play dumb, he claims he doesn’t know what you’re talking about, making a fool of himself. You’re clearly mad, but you try to not let it show through your tone. You try to take deep breaths.

“You can say we’re kind of even…” Suguru scratches the back of his head, but that’s not enough. You’re not even because the situation with Ren had nothing to do with him, at least in your eyes. Yes, you lied to him, but it was your business, something that had nothing to do with him.

“Does Shoko know too?” You scoff, and it’s merely a joke, but Suguru bites down his lip before commenting,

“I mean, considering the fact that she’s sleeping with his wife, probably.” Which makes your eyes widen. It’s shocking, but it makes a lot of sense. You’re still speechless. “Satoru told me… A while ago.”

“I guess we’re even then.” You let out a chuckle, but it’s not humorous. You’re clearly… Annoyed. “But I think… I had different plans for us, and so did you. But we should remain as friends.”

“Huh? What do you mean?” He asks, confused why you say that. He knows you’re mad, but what you’re making is a rash decision. “You don’t mean what you’re saying, you’re just upset because–”

“No, I know what I’m saying. Suguru, I lied to you so I guess I shouldn’t be too mad but I am. And I lied to you about Satoru, and… We shouldn’t be together, I feel like we started this off wrong.” You respond, and it almost hurts to say.

“But we can start over again without lies and–” He begins, and you cut him off.

“Let’s try to give it some time before even thinking about that. I’m not really in the right headspace for a relationship.” You answer truthfully, and he furrows his brows. He doesn’t know why, but that ticks him off.

“I bet you’ll end up choosing Satoru again.” He sounds bitter, and you can’t help but roll your eyes. Of course he says that, he assumes you’re so in love with Satoru that you can’t have a relationship with him. Suguru thinks too mighty of himself. “Explains why you so adamantly ignored my calls, and why you were on vacation with him–”

“I have a son with him, Suguru. Of course I’m going to do shit with him.” You interrupt him, standing up from your seat. He has his arms crossed, looking almost like a pouty child because he isn’t getting his way. He almost reminds you of Satoru. “I told you we should give it time before we even begin to think about it. Don’t make your case worse.”

He keeps silent while you walk away, deciding that you’re right. He isn’t going to make his case worse.

“How did it go?” Satoru seems as if he has been waiting by the door for you the entire time.

“He knew?” You immediately ask, and he nods in response which makes you roll your eyes. “Everyone knows shit except me.”

“I can say the same about Ren.” Satoru argues, which is a great point, but you won’t admit it. You hand him your purse, as if he were your own little butler, and he proceeds to take it to your room.

“Where’s Ren?” You half-yell, and the man shushes you, which earns a weird look from you. There’s no way he actually got Ren to fall asleep… But for what other reason would Satoru shush you?

“He’s asleep.” Satoru informs you when he walks back, and you want to question what kind of sorcery the man is doing to make a boy that hates taking naps, fall asleep. You do appreciate it though, so you won’t complain.

You two awkwardly stand around, not sure what to speak about next since Ren is asleep. There’s something that comes to mind, but you’re not sure how appropriate the question is. Ren is asleep, so there shouldn’t be an issue, however, you don’t want to overstep any boundaries.

You still clear your throat though, “Did you know that Shoko was–”

“I know.” Satoru chuckles. “Right when we got back, Shoko dug her claws into her– Or Sayo did.”

“Were you upset when you found out? I mean, when we first saw each other again you called her love.” You bring up, walking over to the couch to take a seat, and he follows behind. Satoru takes a moment to think, and properly formulate his answer. He sighs before speaking up,

“I guess, for a moment I thought I loved her. I’m very fond of her, and I confused my adoration for her as love. She knew what I was going through, and she was always sweet to me, we could make each other laugh. Overall, we got along.” He explains, and you listen attentively. You’ll do anything to gain a little bit of perspective into his mind. “We just had each other, and that was that. But then you came into my life, and I remembered what love felt like.”

You feel your face get warm, and you look away from him. Maybe Suguru is right– You can’t let him be right. Satoru still committed a lot of bad actions.

You stay silent and let a minute pass before speaking up again, changing the topic, “It’s not just Ren’s birthday coming up, but also yours. What would you like?”

“I already have everything I could ever want.” Satoru answers, which makes your task slightly more difficult. You’re still going to get him something for his birthday, even if it’s just a pair of socks. “How about Ren? I heard he wants a puppy.”

“He’s not getting one. Nope.” You tell him, and he laughs before nodding in response. You’re not sure he’s gotten the message yet, but you’ll make sure to remind him.

#[changes]#gojo saturo #satoru gojo #gojou satoru x you #jjk satoru #gojou satoru x reader #jujutsu kaisen gojo #jjk gojo #gojo angst #jjk #jujutsu kaisen #jujutsu kaisen x reader #gojo satoru #jujutsu gojo #gojo x reader #gojo fanfic

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wokelander · 1 month

Text

L’AMOUR LOOKS SOMETHING LIKE YOU !

ft. leon s. kennedy x fem!reader

tags. dad-daughter incest, dad/daddy kink, groping, emotional incest i hope, dub-con

note. comm for @slovakbabe sorry this took so fucking long omg. I hope this is worth the wait 😭 writers block is hell so if anything is clunky.. omg. I changed the storyline like 7 times and landed on this so I hope it’s good!!! edited but ignore any mistakes or I’ll kms.. not fond of this so um 😓

Tonight is a big night.

Tonight you’re going to break a month-long dry spell.

Tonight you’re going to have a three-way, a four-way, a five-way and get fucked every which way.

Tonight you will not let dad’s stupid face weigh you down. Every time you look at him you feel guilty. Like you’re obligated to take on the task of towel-drying dishes while he washes them just like mom did, like you’re supposed to make his eggs how he likes them, like you’re supposed to massage his back and feet after work, suck his dick—

You book a table at a rooftop bar. You’re looking for guys with wallets fatter than their dicks, you’re looking to drain someone’s balls and their life savings, you are looking for someone a little older.

Older, like, old-as-your-dad older. You don’t have any problems with your dad, no issues or qualms, he takes care of you so well, and that’s exactly why you need someone in his age range.

You joined a hiking club in hopes of finding one, you were reading obituaries to find widowers, you started getting friendly with ugly men, you know how desperate they are—But it had to come to an end, you can’t price yourself that low.

Dad has always told you what you’re worth, and you’re deserving of someone who treats you right. No more splitting the bill, you don’t want to carry any shopping bags, and no fucking way are you paying for your own drinks tonight.

“Where are you going, young lady?” Leon hasn’t seen you all day, you grace him with your (always welcomed) presence at 9PM on the dot.

“Uh, out?” You place a hand on your hip, giving him a pointed look.

Huh. Okay. He has to go about this carefully; you’re like a powder keg. Maybe you told him about this but he wasn’t listening. Leon is only ever half-listening.

“What is that?” He lowers his reading glasses. “A headband?”

“It’s a miniskirt, dad?” You supply, raising your brow - you’re challenging him, that means, but Leon isn’t up for it.

“Yeah, no, I can see that.” He can see quite a few things a dad shouldn’t really ever be able to see on his daughter. “You got any, uh, regular skirts?”

“What counts as a regular skirt?” You take a step forward, the skirt shifts upwards, your everything is flashing everyone everywhere.

Okay, okay.

He can stand up for himself—Giving in the only option, he decides a mere second later.

“Listen, pumpkin, I’m not up for all that smart talk today.” Leon holds his hands up in surrender. You’re like your mom, deliberate and ballsy and everything that he isn’t. You could argue with your echo, Leon not so much. He lets you win when you’re right and when you’re wrong.

“Then stop, like, policing me, dad, I’m not a baby.” You’re his baby though, and that’s what really matters. It’s hard for Leon to see you like this. Since when did dolls turn into dildos? Barbie pink turned into what? Like, pussy pink? God, he doesn’t know—You’re just so big now and you’re getting away from him, out of reach.

One half of Leon wants to say ‘since when did you start shadowing a hooker’ and ‘I sent you to college, not the strip club’ but instead, he very patiently says, “I’m not trying to police you, baby, okay?”

All because he knows you haven’t been doing so hot lately—Also that’s just not a nice thing to say to a girl, and if Leon does say so himself he’s a pretty nice guy, he aims to be one at least. “You win, alright, sweetheart? It’s none of my business what you do, you go out and have a good time.”

“Thanks, daddy.” You beam and reward him with a kiss on the cheek. It’s the sort of kiss that reminds him to stay in his lane if he wants anymore.

You’re spoiled, but he’s made his bed so he’ll die in it.

He sees you out, trying his best to keep his eyes off your ass which as a father should be a very easy task, but it’s all in his fucking face.

“When are you coming home?” Leon asks, sounding more like an insecure housewife than he is a dad.

“Later, dad, don’t forget your meds,” you tell him simply, stepping over the threshold and into the dark, click-clacking in your gogo boots after blowing him a kiss.

“Later, sweetheart…” He says into the breeze.

It’s not fair. Whatever’s wrong with him is not fair. It might be that your mother, his wife, is faint in his head, nothing more than a poorly projected film.

And you’re right there.

So much older, tougher, prettier—You have an ass now, and god it’s a good ass. That’s not a bad thing to say about your daughter. Leon is appreciating what he gave you. You have a nice ass - it’s factual. Not wrong. Not sick. Not twisted or fucked up. Or any other thing, it’s just something he noticed. A change he picked up on as any good dad would, and Leon is a very good dad.

He attended every ballet rehearsal, he spent his days packing your lunch and learning how to style hair and he stepped away from the fucking President to be your father. He is a good dad, a great dad goddamnit.

Ass or no ass, Leon would love you no matter what—See, he’s a good fucking dad. He is.

God, if he really was a good dad he wouldn’t be spending his time with his back pressed to the front door, head bowed as he thinks about your ass.

You're more than your ass, you are, Leon’s proud of you—You’re the only thing he’s got to be proud of, he never went to college, but you do. And Leon’s never gotten through a novel, but you have. Truly, despite it all, you’re a good kid and you don’t deserve any of it - Leon’s moping ever since your mother passed.

He’s supposed to hold it together, but he's so tender he falls right off the bone, and you’re tough.

Didn’t cry when it happened, didn’t cry at her wake, you didn’t even cry when the two of you came home to silence. No dinner on the table, no sitcom playing on the TV, no black pumps kicked off by the door. You cried when you went to bed that night, and Leon heard it through the walls, and he is such a fucking pussy. He didn’t get up to hold you, he just sat there and listened and thought ‘I wish I could help.’

He brushes his teeth while mulling this all over - the possibility that he might be attracted to you. His wife. Those cheetah print panties on the floor, an inch away from the laundry basket.

(It wouldn’t be the first pair he's taken. Ever since your mother died her underwear drawer has become yours unbeknownst to you.)

Leon goes to bed early and he thinks about you—Not your ass this time, well, maybe just a little, that only takes up a fraction of his thoughts—More than a fraction ‘cause it’s a lot bigger than a fraction, and he wouldn’t insult you by insinuating your ass is only worth a fraction of his time, it’s worth a lot more than that—

He thinks about how you used to have gaps in your smile, and the dollhouse that’s gathering dust in the cellar, and your less-than-impressed face when he says anything ever. God, Leon could step on the wrong floorboard and you’d blow up at him, and he likes that part of you.

You’re so much like your mother and thank god you are, if you got anymore of Leon, he thinks he’d be a little less fond of you. When he looks in the mirror he only seems to like whatever he passed onto you. Whether it be your nose or your smile or something as little as a mole - Leon finds himself liking it more.

By the time you get home, Leon is sound asleep, your ass finds its home in your dreams among other things. The distant hum of an engine has him stirring, muscles relaxed but mind always alert, as if on a hair-trigger. Leon’s breath slows until it’s near silence, listening out for the slightest noise, anticipating a threat that hasn’t yet materialised.

The thump of your heels kicked off near the stairs for him to trip over, your heavy footsteps, your nails skittering over the wooden bannister as you try to get a hold on this inanimate and completely still object. He thinks you stumble halfway up the stairs, but you make it there safely, your bed creaks and Leon closes his eyes.

“Afternoon,” Leon greets when you press into him from behind, wrapping your arms around him and kissing his shoulder softly. It’s intimate, but he can’t really call it that.

“Please, it’s barely twelve, dad.” You kiss his shoulder again, it means nothing, but his heart feels light. “Did you take your meds?”

“Stop calling them that.” He shakes you off gently, gentle being the only manner he can handle you in. “Makes me sound insane.”

“Okay, well,” you start with patience that is far too mechanical to be human, “they’re important, and I don’t really want to pay for any hospital bills, daddy, we’ve had enough of those.”

Jesus. Daddy. Don’t call him that. That’s not fair.

When he’s not facing you, Leon’s resolve takes a little longer to crumble, it sort of cracks and wobbles and threatens its own stability, then he makes eye contact and it all comes crashing down.

He stays with his back to you, but you float around the dining table and pull out a chair. Bare-faced and older. Pretty, he finds you pretty. You’re not so cute anymore, not a harmless little girl or a sweaty-palmed teenager, you’re pretty the same way his wife was.

“I’ll take them, give me a minute.” He gives you a once over. “You look, uh, good.”

“What?”

“Like, for—You got home later, you don’t look tired.” Your complexion doesn’t look so bad either, no bloating, no puffy under eyes.

“Oh, yeah, I didn’t drink that much.” You smile down at the table absentmindedly, like you’re thinking about something, about someone—Leon doesn’t want to know.

He wants to die.

He gets up to take his medication. Anything to get him away from this conversation that wasn’t really happening, it wasn’t going anywhere, but he’s smart enough to pick up on implications—He did not like those implications, he doesn’t like where his thoughts are taking him.

“Hey, dad, by the way, are you free today?” You call from the kitchen over the whizzing of the blender.

“Yeah.” It’s not loud enough to be heard over the blender, he does that on purpose because he’s feeling especially petty.

“What?”

“Yes! I said yes, turn that thing off when I’m talking!”

“God, okay, sorry, I was just asking.” You’re pouting when he returns - medicated and very pissed off, but the pout softens him right up. He’d like to kiss it away, but Leon settles for patting your head.

“Why, you need to go somewhere?” Leon cups your face, it feels different from all the other times. This isn’t being fond—It’s something worse, something so sinister it makes his balls shrivel.

“Mhm, I wanna go shopping.” You nod, batting your lashes at him, it’s something he would’ve taken as cute before, but now that’s—That’s hot.

He drops his hands before they drift downwards, grab at something he's not supposed to grab. Leon is not normal, nothing about this is right, but he is who he is.

“Get ready then,” Leon says, clearing his throat and looking anywhere but your face, “I’ll be waiting here, okay?”

“‘Kay!”

Dad is looking a little pale these days. He hasn’t looked so worn out since mom died - that shirt does good things to his biceps though. You hope he catches some eligible widow’s eye, it’s what he deserves.

You feel a little guilty for forcing him to drive you around, to carry your shopping bags, but that’s what dads are for, and it’s not like he’s ever minded. Dad literally lives and breathes to spoil you.

“You can go get food or something, daddy, but can you give me your card?” You grasp at his arm, and there’s a faraway look in his eyes.

You wait for him to say yes like usual, but he doesn’t.

He shrugs and says, “I’ll come with you, sweetheart.”

Fuck. You should’ve just taken his card and got an Uber. “I need to buy, like, girl stuff dad.”

“Okay, sweetheart, I bought you your training bras, didn’t I?” Dad’s not backing down for once, and it’s the one time you desperately need him to back down.

“Yeah… Doesn't mean you need to come with me.” You don’t want him knowing what panties you buy, or what cup size you are - none of that concerns him.

“What, you just used me for a ride?” Leon’s good at making that face, the dejected face, the face the dogs at the shelter make when they know they’re going to be put down and you walk right past them to a cuter, fluffier pup.

“Pretty much.” You shrug, and he pinches your cheek softly. That’s as stern as he gets with you.

“It’s only a big deal if you make it one sweetheart,” he says, and then Leon does something he never does—Not in public at least. He takes your hand in his like he does when the two of you cross a street - it’s an instinct for him and embarrassing for you.

“Dad?” You say quietly, but he looks on ahead like this is normal between the two of you. Once upon a time it was, but not now. Not when you’re grown, you have a job, you don’t need your daddy to hold your hand. It does feel nice though, his hand is slightly bigger and it’s soft considering all those years of hard work. You give it a squeeze and the corners of his lips twitch.

What is up with him?

“Forty dollars for a pack of seven, what a joke.” Is the first thing that comes out of his mouth after that long, silent and slightly tortuous walk. “We could always go somewhere else, sweetheart.”

(Victoria’s Secret happens to be on the top floor and farthest from the entrance dad decided to park in. Did he want to hold your hand for longer?)

A girl lingers on that same pack of seven, her eyes are on your dad and she flushes a nice shade of pink when he looks her way as most girls are prone to doing. You wonder if you could find a bra in that colour.

While Leon frets over prices, you find a nice selection of bras and panties and head off into the dressing rooms. You’ve always hated the lighting in the fitting rooms, it makes everything seem so much darker, and you can never pick up on the undertones. Like, you’re looking for baby pink not rose gold or mauve.

“Your girlfriend went through here, sir.” You pay no mind to the voice of an employee.

Shoes scuff against the ground outside, the squeak of leather as someone takes a seat outside the fitting rooms. “Thanks,” says a man who sounds exactly like your father. It is your dad. That’s your fucking dad, and he just let someone call you his girlfriend without even correcting them.

What is going on? The handholding and now this?

Maybe he didn’t hear her, Leon never listens to you, so why would he listen to some random girl? You still feel weird. Like you’re coated in a layer of something sticky.

You hold your breath when you hear footsteps, and then the curtain is pulled open. Why do fitting rooms have curtains? What is so wrong with having a sturdy wooden door?

“Dad!” You gasp and cover your chest when he steps inside, backing you into the mirror when he closes the curtain behind you.

“Relax.”

“What? Dad—Get out, what are you doing? Do you want me to scream? I will scream, dad, I’m not joking.” The air is too thick to breathe in and your anger is spreading like a wildfire.

“I picked you some out,” Dad says so casually, like his eyes are not zeroed in on your tits. He holds up a selection of frilly bras and scanty panties and what is—Is this fucking real?

You’ve got to be having an awful, awful nightmare. Then he has the gall to touch you, and it’s really like dousing a hornets nest in gasoline—Oh, that’s real. This is real. He just touched you and you felt it.

“Sweetheart, don’t be angry.” Leon cups your face, his brows are pinched together in worry, the lines in his forehead are getting worse. Dad’s getting older by the second.

“They’re not… They're not even my size.” You’re paralysed by the absurdity of it all, you’re so upset you went numb, anger cauterised by that stupid fucking face of his. God, you’re whipped for dad the same way he is for you. He could give you a look and you’d just melt. You want to take care of him, you want to be there for him now that mom isn’t. Shit. What the fuck?

“Yeah, well, if you let me have a little feel, I bet I could guess.” Leon smiles his perfect white smile like there is nothing strange afoot—Like this is an everyday activity. A father-daughter pastime the two of you partake in often.

“Dad, what..?” Time itself seems to forget how to move as you stand there staring at him - with your tits out by the way.

“I… Sweetheart, don’t be mad at me.” Dad presses his forehead to yours, and his eyes are so gentle you find yourself trembling. How could you ever be mad at someone for giving you the world?

“I’m… Dad, I’m confused, I don’t understand where—You’re scaring me daddy.” And you know you sound like a little girl ‘cause his face changes and he takes you into his arms like you’re still the tiny pink bundle the midwife dropped on his chest so many years ago.

“Oh, baby,” Leon sighs into your neck, “I’m sorry, okay?”

“Yeah…” You tremble in his grasp, this is the smallest you’ve ever felt in your life. “…Dad?”

“Yeah, pumpkin?” His hands smooth up and down your back, it doesn’t feel like it usually does.

“It was you wasn’t it?” Bras don’t go missing that fucking easy—Socks, sure, but underwear? Jesus Christ, you thought there was a pervert in your walls—There's a pervert in your house, and it’s you father.

“What… What was?” Leon’s face says one thing, but his eyes carry a muted suggestion. The verdict is? Guilty as fucking—Guilty as a a dude who’s committed vehicular manslaughter.

“My stuff, I thought—I seriously thought I was going crazy, or the washing machine was eating everything, but it was you, wasn’t it?” You ask him quietly, voice void of the anger you initially held. God, you feel bad for him.

“…Yeah, pumpkin.” Is all Dad says. “I’m sorry… I think we need to have—To have a family meeting.”

“Dad that’s… It’s just the two of us? That’s just a conversation.” You can’t help but laugh, Jesus, what is going on right now?

“Yeah—I just, fuck, I’m sorry.”

“It’s okay.” You can’t be mad at him, no matter how you behave, the tantrums you throw—You can’t be mad at him. You know dad could leave you behind in your annoyance, but he stays behind to placate you, and he always does that. Fuck. Holy fuck. Are you seriously forgiving a fucking panty thieving pervert ‘cause he’s your sad old dad?

“Yeah?” Dad asks, breathless and he’s looking at you so reverently—Can you look at someone like that? If you can, that’s how dad’s looking at you. Like you’re something to behold. Something pretty and worth it and he’s made you feel like this since you were little.

“Yeah.” You give a curt nod, and when he pulls back, Leon’s hands come to squeeze your hips, gliding up your sides to toy with the lace hem of a bra you’ve been wearing a beat too long—It’s all sweaty, you’ll have to buy it. Slowly, but surely, he takes your tits into his hands. “Happy?”

You can’t help but be amused by his pleased hum, and fuck—His dick is pressing into you, you didn’t need to know that your dad is hung like a fucking witch.

“You should buy this one, fits well.” Dad nods appreciatively, like he’s a bra expert and not a pervert.

“Oh, yeah?” You huff out a laugh, you can never help yourself around him. You’re just as weak as he is when it comes down to it.

You stop by the bathrooms after a trip to the food court where you treat dad to Shake Shack courtesy of his card, he waits for you outside, standing taller and brighter and happier. Was that all it took? God. This is weird. You wonder if by the time the two of you get home, Leon’s going to pretend this never happened and the two of you will have to live in knowing silence.

“Did you see him? The guy in Victoria’s Secret? The one near me?” You hear two girls conversing while you’re in the stall, staring down at the wet patch on your panties. “He was, like, fucking cute.”

“Didn’t he have a girlfriend?”

“So? She could’ve been his daughter, he was, like, old, but hot old.”

“They were way too close for that to be his daughter.”

You step out of the stall wondering if you’re going to be his girlfriend or his daughter, you weigh up the options as you wash your hands, you’re still thinking about it as you hold the door open for the two girls.

Your hands are still wet, but Leon doesn’t seem to mind as he takes them in his. Their eyes are on you, and this little, jealous nagging part of you says go for it. Do it. So you stand on your tip-toes and kiss him. It’s barely a kiss by your standards, more of a peck than anything, but dad is fucking lovestruck. “I’m ready to go now, dad.”

#leon kennedy x you #leon s kennedy x you #leon s kennedy x reader #leon s kennedy smut #leon kennedy imagine #leon kennedy x reader #leon kennedy smut #dead dove do not eat #dead dove fic #resident evil x reader #resident evil smut

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ihops-golden-closet · 8 months

Text

How To Care For A Bunny 101

Pairing: Jungkook x Bunny Hybrid Reader, mentions of Dog Hybrid Jimin x Bunny Hybrid Reader

Genre: Domestic, Smut, Fluff, a little bit of angst, mentions of the past, a little bit of sliding timelines

Rating: 18+

Summary: You were head over heels for your owner but you always buried your feelings in fear of damaging your relationship with Jungkook. Unbeknownst to you, Jungkook was also in the exact same predicament. After you experience your heat for the first time, Jungkook decides it's finally time for him to come clean.

Author's Note: Hello! This is the first piece of work that I am uploading to this site. I hope I don't scare anyone off of here. A bit of a warning but there is a bit of a sliding timeline here. If this gets confusing, I would appreciate the feedback. If you liked this story, please leave a like and give my blog a follow! I would really appreciate it!

Italics=Past

Clutching the stuffed animal closer to your body, you watched as the alarm clock struck midnight. It’s been over an hour since the tattoo shop that your owner works at was supposed to close but Jungkook has yet to arrive home. The stuffed toy, which you affectionately named Cooky, was a birthday gift your owner had gotten you. In times when you feel lonely, such as this one, Cooky provides some comfort but you would rather be cuddled up in Jungkook’s arms as he lulled you to sleep with his gentle singing.

It didn’t take long for you to fall head over heels for Jungkook after you started living with him. How could you not? Jungkook was everything a girl could want. He was sweet, had the voice of an angel, attractive (although you always felt too shy to tell him that), and cherished every moment he spent with you among other things. Most importantly, he cared for you, a feeling you were robbed of growing up in that wretched hybrid care center you used to call home.

You don’t think of your past home as much as you used to. Preferring the memories you make now with your loving owner than the lonely ones back at your old home. It was at this bunny hybrid care center that you could recall your earliest memories. It was there where you were raised by the facility’s caretakers and received your education, making a few casual friends along the way. As kind as some of your caretakers were, you never grew as close to any, at least not in the way you did with Jungkook. They often never stayed long to form that kind of connection anyway. It wasn’t the best place for a child, the facility not receiving as much funding as it should to properly care for its residents. You often felt alone. You had some friends but for the most part, you missed out on forming deep and meaningful bonds.

You didn’t get adopted as a kid. Most families preferred to adopt hybrids when they were still very young. But you aged out of the preferred age bracket and eventually came to the realization that finding another home might as well be impossible. Hybrids who chose to stay could work for the center in exchange for basic housing and money (albeit a poor wage). With nowhere else to go, you really had no other option.

That was up until Jungkook came into your life.

It was never Jungkook’s intention to adopt a hybrid. He had only come to your residence to accompany his friend Eunwoo. Eunwoo already had his own hybrid at home but wanted to adopt another one as a companion. It was on that day that Jungkook met you for the first time.

He first came across you doodling on your sketchbook at the care center’s living room area. You were curled up in a huge chair besides the room’s massive window. He even remembered exactly what you wore that day because of how cute he thought you looked. A fluffy oversized sweater and some fuzzy socks. You were so focused on your work that you took no notice of the buzz around you.

“She’s cute, isn’t she?”, Eunwoo quipped from behind Jungkook, snapping the other out of his staring daze.

“Y-yeah, she is”, Jungkook choked, feeling sheepish at being caught, “have you seen her yet?”

“No, but I’d like to get to know her”, Eunwoo shrugged, “maybe she’d be a good match for my Hana.”

After asking around a bit, Eunwoo was able to land a meet session with you that same day. He just wanted to get to know you better, see if you’d be a good match for his own hybrid at home. Being that Jungkook was already there, he stuck around for the meeting. Although if he was being honest, he was curious about you too.

“I like your body art.”

“Body art?”, Jungkook asked, “you mean my tattoos?”

“Oh I meant tattoos! Sorry! ”, you quickly apologized, embarrassed at your own mistake. You have seen tattoos before in magazines and in movies but didn’t know what to call them.

“No worries, I knew what you meant”, Jungkook laughed, “wanna see them?”

“Sure!”

Jungkook giggled at your enthusiasm before removing his jacket. You blushed at the sight of his well defined biceps decorated with numerous tattoos. His body itself was it’s own work of art. The next couple of minutes were spent with you gushing over how cool Jungkook’s tattoos looked, curious to find out the meaning and detail behind every one of them. Jungkook doesn’t think he has ever met anyone as excited about tattoos as you were, especially with how innocent he thought you looked.

Although the session was meant for Eunwoo to get to know you better, he ended up basically being third wheeled for the remainder of the enthusiastic exchange between the two of you. It didn’t bother him however, it was pretty amusing watching his friend of over a decade turn into a pile of putty in front him.

“She seems smitten with you”, Eunwoo commented over his steaming cup of coffee.

After the session was over, Eunwoo had let the staff know that he needed more time to think it over before adopting you. Both he and Jungkook deciding to stop at a cafe close by after the ordeal.

“What do you mean?”, Jungkook replied over his own iced americano.

Eunwoo shrugged before taking a sip of his own drink, “have you ever thought about adopting a hybrid?”

“No.”

It was true, it had never really crossed Jungkook’s mind before. He knows of people who have, and from his perspective, it seems like a huge hassle. There are specific diets, expensive medical visits, the dreaded heat spells, and who knows how many more complications out there.

“Well if you ever change your mind, I know a cute one.”

Being a new and relatively inexperienced owner, Jungkook missed all red flags of your impending first heat. You were extra affectionate and clingy. Not that it bothered him at all. He loved basking in the extra attention and affection you provided, chalking it up to you simply missing him due to the heavy work schedule he had that week.

Then it was the restlessness. Just before he left for work or to run errands in the morning, he would stop by your room to check up on you only you find you still awake from the night before with red eyes and a tired face. The lack of sleep was an immediate cause of concern in his eyes. He thought it warranted a doctor’s visit but you insisted that it was nothing to worry about and it was all caused by you staying up late to play games on your computer. His instincts told him it was something else but he took your word for it anyway and decided to wait and see if your sleep improved.

He finally dragged you to see the doctor after your restlessness only worsened and you started to complain of hot flashes. You tried to brush that off with different excuses as well but nothing you said this time was going to stop this doctor’s visit from happening.

“She’s experiencing her first heat.”

Jungkook nearly chocked on his own salvia upon hearing those words come out the doctor so nonchalantly, as if it wasn’t that big of a deal. It hadn’t even been 5 minutes since Jungkook described your symptoms to the middle aged woman before she already had a diagnosis.

“Are you sure? I mean, the symptoms are kind of broad, could it not be an indiction of something else?”

“I’m positive”, she left out a laugh and adjusted her glasses, “I see it all the time. Besides, she’s due for one. I’d be more concerned if she hadn’t experience her heat yet.”

Jungkook chewed his lip. He had researched your symptoms on his own and found that your symptoms marked all the signs of a hybrid heat but he had just wanted to make sure. He felt his heart drop as he remembered all the posts recommending hybrids go through their heats with other hybrids.

“I see…she’s going to need a hybrid partner, right?”

“Ideally, yes. However, any partner will do so long as she has her needs met. Whether you decide to find her a hybrid partner or assist her yourself is going to be something for you and her to decide.”

As much as he despised the idea of another man touching you, Jungkook knew that he had to set his feelings aside and do what’s best for you. He didn’t want to take advantage of your instincts.

He knew of another hybrid like you who could help you through your heat. Jimin, a dog hybrid, was his coworker and one of his closest friends. Many businesses actively discriminate against hybrids and typically don’t hire them but Seokjin had known Jimin for a while and knew it’d be silly to pass out on a valuable employee because he happened to have ears and a fluffy tail. Most customers loved Jimin anyway because of his charm and skills, few ever turned him away for his hybrid status.

He feels uneasy at the prospect of asking Jimin if he would be willing to help you with such an intimate activity but he knew he could trust Jimin. Sex between hybrids is almost always done for instinctual needs and intimacy isn’t an aspect typically involved but Jungkook can’t help but feel his stomach churn at the thought.

“I’ll do it.”

Jungkook felt his heart drop a bit. Theoretically, he should be thankful that Jimin didn’t outright turn on him or even worse, cut all contact with him then and there. But still, part of him had hoped for a little more resistance from the hybrid.

“A-are you sure?”, Jungkook hopes Jimin doesn’t catch on to the reluctance in his voice.

“Yeah, I mean, why not? I know how much of a pain heats are, especially when you don’t have a partner to help you out. She’s really lucky to have an owner like you who looks out for these kinds of things Kook.”

Jungkook didn’t speak to Jimin for a couple of days after that night. He knew it was a wrong and shitty thing to do but he couldn’t stomach any sort of interaction with him. Every time he looked at Jimin, the image of you beneath him crossed his mind and it haunted him. It’s not like he was mad or upset with Jimin. Jungkook was the one who had asked him for his help after all. He just needs some time to forget the whole thing. As much as Jungkook tried to not show how bothered he was by the whole ordeal, the others quickly caught on to the change in his character. He didn’t joke around or engage with the others as much as he used to.

After the tension between them became too unbearable for Jimin to handle, Jimin decided to finally confront Jungkook privately. He wanted to catch Jungkook at closing hour as soon as the others left but he’s not too sure how that’s going to work out considering Jungkook is almost always the first to leave these days. Jimin knows that was surely in an effort to avoid him since Jimin had to almost drag Jungkook out of the parlor after closing before. Fortunately for him, Jungkook had forgotten a few of his belongings back in the parlor so he had no choice but to come back and retrieve them.

Jimin was just about done sweeping up the place when he heard the unlocking of the parlor’s door. There stood Jungkook, who looked like a deer caught under headlights as soon as he met Jimin’s stare.

“H-hey”, Jungkook could feel his hands start to get clammy as soon as he realized he was alone with Jimin, “I just realized I left some of my stuff here so I came back to pick them up.”

“Oh yea, no problem. I left them on the counter in the back”, Jimin quipped. Despite not confronting him yet, Jimin already started to feel awkward.

Jungkook bolted for the door as soon as he had grabbed all his things. He was only a few steps away from the exit when Jimin made his move.

“Jungkook, wait.”

Shit.

“Yes hyung?”, Jungkook had inched towards the door, resting his hand on the handle but he had turned around to reply to Jimin anyways.

“We should talk.”

Despite trying to avoid the situation altogether, Jungkook knew this would inevitably happen. It was difficult for him to completely hide the change in his character altogether. Jimin was also a sensitive guy by nature, he knew Jimin could feel the tension in the room become impalpable when they were together.

Jungkook let out an awkward cough before speaking, “sure, what’s on your mind?”

He could have replied that he had somewhere to be and spared himself from the conversation at hand but he already felt like a piece of shit for avoiding Jimin. This was the least he could do.

Jimin sighed. How does one even start a conversation like this?

“Well…to be honest, I just feel like something’s changed between us”, Jimin let the words flow out, it’s too late to go back now, “I don’t if you been trying to avoid me lately but that’s the impression I’m getting. I just wanted to know…if I did something wrong or something?"

“N-no”, Jungkook suddenly felt extremely guilty, “of course not hyung. You didn’t do anything wrong.”

Jimin knew Jungkook was still hiding something, so he pressed further, “but something’s definitely bothering you Kook, I can tell. You know you could always tell me right? I won’t be hurt or offended.”

Jungkook sighed, he going to have to come clean for Jimin’s sake, “it’s not you hyung. Really. It’s me.”

Setting his stuff down, Jungkook decided to tell finally tell someone what was on his mind.

“I’m sorry for avoiding you. You didn’t do anything wrong. It’s just that…after that night between you and Y/N…I can’t stop thinking about it.”

Jungkook started trailing off again, he wanted to Jimin his true feelings but the words just keep getting lodged in his throat. Jimin was relieved to hear that he didn’t fuck up his and Jungkook’s relationship but it still bothered him to see Jungkook look so down. He’s been close friends with Jungkook for so long now that Jungkook is practically like a little brother to him. Even if Jimin isn’t the reason for change in Jungkook’s character, he’s still going to help him in any way he can.

“What do you mean? Is Y/N still in pain?”

“No”, Jungkook quickly interjected, “she’s ok now, what I’m trying to say is that this is more about me than it is her.”

Jimin thinks be beginning to understand now.

“I love her hyung and not in a way that an owner should be with their hybrid,” Jungkook felt a huge weight lift off his shoulders as he began to pour out the feelings he had bottled up inside for so long, “you did nothing wrong. I’m not mad at you or anything. I just feel… hurt and jealous about the whole thing. I know it’s a shitty thing to be feeling that way but everytime I’m with you…all I can think about is you and Y/N, well y’know.”

Oh. Jimin had a small hunch about what was really going on but he never thought that Jungkook would actually come to him and confirm it. Jimin felt like shit. He was just now starting to understand just how deep Jungkook’s feelings for you ran and he had jumped in and ruined it. Jimin felt as if he had betrayed his own brother.

“Jungkook, you have to tell Y/N.”

Jungkook’s eyes doubled in size at Jimin’s word of advice. How could he tell you something like that? What if you don’t feel the same and it totally ruins your relationship? He couldn’t burden you with something like that.

“Hyung, I’m not sure if that’s a good idea-”, Jungkook started but Jimin quickly interjected.

“You can’t carry this burden forever. And Y/N deserves to know the truth. How do you know she doesn’t feel the same way if you don’t confess how you truly feel? You have to trust her.”

Jungkook understood what Jimin was getting to. His feelings were getting in the way of his relationship with you and Jimin. He had to tell you how he truly felt so he could finally let this burden go.

He just hoped you felt the same way.

Jungkook didn’t say another word as he walked up to the dog hybrid and wrapped his arms around him in a tight embrace. He was just glad that his relationship with Jimin could be salvaged. As vulnerable as he feels right now, it felt good for Jungkook to open up and have this talk.

“It’s going to be okay Kook”, Jimin reciprocated the younger man’s embrace, he’s grateful that Jungkook could be honest with him.

“I’m so sorry hyung for everything, I hope you can forgive me”, Jungkook felt guilty for making Jimin believe he did something wrong. He’s doesn’t deserve to have someone as kind and understanding as Jimin as a friend.

Jimin chuckled, patting Jungkook on the pat, he reassured him, “it’s ok Jungkook, I understand. That’s something hard to go through, especially when you bottle up those feelings and keep them to yourself. Everything’s gonna be ok.”

Jungkook’s been with a few girls here and there but his relationships never latest for more than a few dates. Not after they would find out about you. Of course, when the topic would inevitably come up, Jungkook always insisted that his relationship with you was strictly familiar. Most of the time, it would work in qwelling any relationship doubts but only temporarily. It was impossible to miss how Jungkook’s eyes would light up when you walked into the room, the attentiveness he displayed everytime you spoke, or the sweet smile and giggle he gave you when you said something funny.

Jungkook could feel himself start to feel nervous again as he fumbled with the front’s door to his apartment. Either you would awake and waiting for him (it’s a cute little habit of yours to always wait for him after work to greet him, no matter how late) or you would be snuggled up on the sofa fast asleep if you couldn’t suppress your sleepiness long enough to see him.

Jungkook finally opened the door only to be greeted to the sight of you quietly asleep on the softa. He felt his heart melt at how peaceful and gentle you looked snuggled up under the heavy pink blanket. Your face was just barely peeking out of the covers as was your favorite stuffed animal Cooky.

The conversation would have to wait until tomorrow.

Quickly locking the door behind him, Jungkook was quiet as he set his things away as to not to disturb your slumber. In times that you would fall asleep on the couch, you would wake up and find yourself in your room again. Jungkook moving you back to your bedroom the night before. As peaceful as you looked, Jungkook figured the couch probably wasn’t as comfortable as your mattress.

After Jungkook finished setting his things away, the first thing he did was pick you up as gently as possible from the couch. Being mindful of not making too much noise and making sure he brought Cooky with you, he swiftly moved you from the couch into your bedroom as if you weighed nothing. He’d get ready for bed after he moved you.

Jungkook had just set you down on your bed when he felt you stirring beneath him. Shit. He must have awoken you during the procress.

“Kook?”, you said in a voice heavy in sleep, “that you?”

“Yeah Bun, I’m just moving you”, Jungkook replied, almost whispering, “sorry for waking you, I’ll be leaving now, ‘kay?”

“Wait no, don’t go yet Kook”, you were fully awake now, you grabbed Jungkook’s hand in a weak attempt to get him to stay, “how was work?”

“It was great. Lots of clients”, Jungkook shrugged, moving to sit next to you on the bed, “you sure you don’t want me to leave so you could go to sleep baby?”

“Nah, I’m ok”, you replied with a shake of your head, “I’m fully awake now, see? Don’t worry ‘bout me. Why’d you come home so late? Was it really that busy today?”

“N-no. I just forgot some things at the parlor so I had to go back. Then me and Jimin talked for a bit about something important…”

“Oh?”, you sat up now, using your elbows to prop yourself up from the bed, “what about?”

Suddenly, the world started to feel like it was slowing down to a stop. Jungkook felt extremely vulnerable again under your curious gaze. Even more so than when he was with Jimin. He can’t recall if he ever felt as nervous and as clammy as he did right now. Can he really go through with this?

“Y/N…there’s something important that I’ve been meaning to tell you for awhile now but I never had the courage to say it.”

“Yeah?”, you fully sat up now, feeling your heart speed up now in anticipation at what Jungkook had to say, “what is it Kook?”

Jungkook sighed. Why did this have to be so difficult?

“Y/N, the reason why I stayed up so late was because I told Jimin the truth about how I felt. About that night between you and Jimin. About you.”

Jungkook was gnawing at his bottom lip now, it was too late to go back now. He had your attention completely. He felt like a 12 year old boy confessing to his crush for the first time. His heart could burst out of his chest at any second now.

“The truth is”, Jungkook took a second to clear his throat before he continued, “I’ve loved you for a long time now. I’m in love with you and I know as an owner I shouldn’t feel- hmph”

Without thinking, you pressed your lips to Jungkook’s, cutting him off before he could finish his sentence. It wasn’t lustful or needy but a delicate kiss. For a second, Jungkook froze. Your lips were softer than he had imagined. You two locked lips for what seemed like forever before you gently pulled away to properly respond to Jungkook’s confession.

“I’m happy to hear that Kook because for the longest time now, I’ve loved you too. I was also scared to tell you because I didn’t know if you felt the same or not. I didn’t want to make you feel awkward in your own home. To be honest, I’ve always tried to hide my feelings but I knew I couldn’t ignore them anymore when you brought another girl here for the first time. It was that client from your work, remember? I felt so jealous that I cried that night. I don’t think I can handle seeing you with anybody else.”

Was this really happening or were you still dreaming? Even if this was a dream, you didn’t want to wake up. Not yet.

Jungkook felt the massive pressure he had carried with him for so long just dissipate in an instant. It was just like all his worries and doubts had been flushed out of his system. You loved him back. Not just in a familiar sort of way but you were in love with him too.

“Ok, I won’t ever bring another girl home again, I promise.”

Jungkook couldn’t help himself but slowly smile at your cute confession of jealously, who knew you were so possessive?

“Kook, why didn’t you help me with my heat?”

Jungkook chewed at his lip again, not knowing how to best respond, “It just didn’t feel right for me as your owner and a human to use your natural instincts as an excuse to have sex with you. I just wanted to do what was best for you and so I fiigured finding you another hybrid as a partner would be the best course of action.”

“You wouldn’t have taken advantage of me Kook, I may be a hybrid but I have enough control to know what I’m doing”, you reassured Jungkook. You were finally glad to hear that Jungkook didn’t offer himself as a partner to you because he felt unsure of himself and not because he didn’t want to be your mate, “Jiminnie… he’s nice but…I wanted you to help me.”

“Hmm, is it too late for me to take care of my baby girl?”

Maybe it was low or the raspy tone in his voice, but his words immediately made you squirm.

Taking your hands in his larger ones, he brought your hand up to his face, tentatively leaving tender kisses on your fingertips. Its little actions like this that turned you into a pile of putty in front of him.

“Mhm”, you inched closer to him, practically purring your next words, ”I mean, it’s not too late at all, please mate with me Kook.”

You didn’t have to ask him twice, his lips were already back on yours at your command. Unlike your first kiss, this one quickly turned into one laced with pure lust. You moaned as you felt Jungkook’s tongue slip inside your own mouth before exploring everything he could.

Breaking the kiss, Jungkook leaned back and took a couple of seconds to take you in. Here you were, beneath him and in desperate need of his touch. Even in this state you were beautiful, your hair was fanned out, eyes glossy and heavy, and your lips were parted as you let out short breaths.

In Jungkook’s attempt to better re-adjust his position to where he was hovering above you, his rapidly inflating shaft had unintentionally made contact with your clothed pussy. You moaned as you felt him rapidly stiffening under your touch.

“What do you need from me baby?”, Jungkook’s voice was laced with pure lust, “No need to be shy now, I’m all yours.”

“Want you to touch me here”, taking his hand in yours, you trailed it down to your body right down to your cunt. Your wetness had soaked through the fabric and although you couldn’t see yourself, you knew you had surely left a huge stain.

You shuddered as you felt Jungkook’s larger hands finally reach the place you most wanted them.

“We just started and you already made a huge mess Bun”, Jungkook teased as he slipped his hand beneath the band of your panties. He could your slick immediately coat his fingers as he rubbed lazy circles around the sensitive flesh.

Before you could respond, Jungkook slipped his finger inside you. You were already so wet that the action brough no discomfort.

“Hngh”, you squimed at the sensation of Jungkook fully immersing a digit in you. Jungkook watched your face scrunch up in pleasure as he slipped yet another digit inside. Using his free thumb to rub small circles on your numb, Jungkook began to slowly pump his fingers in and out of you. He curled them slightly to fuck you at a more pleasurable angle. He only had two digits in you and yet your cunt was already squeezing tightly around him. When he moved his fingers out, he could feel your pussy try to suck them back in.

“So tight around my fingers,” Jungkook spoke, moaning at his own words,”How are you gonna handle a cock stuffed inside you, baby?”

“Mhm, I c-can handle it.”

You suddenly felt Jungkook slip his fingers out of you, instantly letting out a whine at the loss of him inside you.

“Don’t worry bunny”, Jungkook laughed at your adorable whine, “we’re not done yet.”

Jungkook pulled back, now moving himself down your body to bring himself closer to your quivering core. He was pleased to find a huge wet stain decorating the front of your panties as he gently tugged you pajamas off of you. You lifted your hips slightly so Jungkook could fully remove your pajamas off of you. After discarding your pajamas somewhere on the floor, Jungkook leaned his face in to hover over where you desperately wanted him before placing a gentle kiss through the fabric.

Hooking his fingers on the sides of your panties, he slowly peeled the fabric off, taking every second of the view. Once again, you slightly lifted your hips to assit him with taking the wet fabric off. You shuddered as you felt the cool air hit your exposed core.

As much as he wanted to take in more of the gorgeous view in front of him, Jungkook decided not to waste time any longer and lowered himself until his face was mere centimeters from your pussy. You smelled as divine as you looked. Tentatively, he placed another soft kiss on your folds before licking a strip.

You mewled at his actions, earning a hum of satisfaction from him.

“That felt good huh baby?”, he chucked from in-between your legs. Slipping his hands beneath your thighs, Jungkook hoisted them over his shoulders to give himself better access to your clenching pussy.

“Mhm, want more of it Kook”, you muttered breathlessly.

Only this time, instead of going straight for your needy cunt, Jungkook opted for a bit more foreplay to prepare you. He placed a few more gentle kisses on the surrounding flesh of your core. Very gently, he bit and sucked on a few areas, leaving behind the faint marks of hickies in some places.

“Kook, p-please”, you were practically muttering to yourself at this point. Diving your fingers down to your pussy, you parted your lips to show Jungkook exactly where you needed him, “touch me here.”

Jungkook chuckled at your needy request, “since my princess asked so nicely...”

He dove straight to your pussy, his mouth covering the slick flesh. Jungkook wasted no time in attacking your pussy with his tongue and lapped at the slick pouring out your wet hole. A wave of pleasure washed down your entire body. It’s like you were experiencing your heat all over again only this time Jungkook was the cure.

Jungkook’s free hand came down to rub gentle circles around your clit as his tongue continued it’s assault on your cunt. With just a few more laps, you came completely undone. Your thighs began to shake as you rode off your orgasm with Jungkook’s tongue still buried in your pussy. Jungkook ensured that not a single drop of your juices went to waste.

With your orgasm fully washing over you, Jungkook pulled away to give you a few moments to let your body calm down. His hard cock was now digging through the fabric of his jeans and his balls heavy from neglect. Never had he given himself blue balls from a sight as beautiful as this before. Catching your breath again, you felt a vivid shade of pink dust your cheeks as you caught on to Jungkook’s dilemma.

Jungkook’s hard cock sprung out from his pants the instant he peeled them off. You moaned at the sight, your thighs instantly spreading a little farther as Jungkook wasted no time in getting inbetween your legs. He looked down at you with his pupils blown out in lust as he stroked his throbbing cock.

“Ready, baby?” You nodded furiously, almost forgetting your own voice. All you could focus on was Jungkook’s throbbing cock so close to your pussy. Jungkook took notice and decided that you suffered enough to keep teasing you. Hoisting your thighs and pulling you close to his lap, Jungkook proceeded to run the tip of his cock up and down your slit. You squirmed at the sensation, instinctively pushing yourself closer to what you needed.

“So impatient”, Jungkook let out a small laugh, though truthfully, he himself couldn’t wait much longer. You felt the air in your lungs disappear as Jungkook gently slowly pushed the tip of cock inside you.

“F-fuck”, Jungkook grunted, bottoming completely inside you. Your walls were squeezing his cock deliciously but he resisted the urge to fuck you. You were clearly still trying to adjust to his size, your face cutely screwed up in a mix of pleasure and slight discomfort at Jungkook’s full size inside you.

Jungkook took a moment to drink in the beautiful sight of you beneath him, taking him in completely. It’s like you were made for him.

The initial discomfort of Jungkook’s cock buried inside you was quickly fading into pure bliss. You started to wiggled your hips a little, trying to fuck yourself on his cock, desperate to find the relief you were looking for.

“Fuck, you know how fucking cute you are, right?”, Jungkook leaned down to peck your lips, “you’re so good for me.”

“M-move Kook, puh-please”, you stuttered, too far gone in the absolutely euphoria you were experiencing.

Taking your word, Jungkook began moving his hips in a steady rhythm. He too became increasingly more vocal the more he fucked you. He was entranced with the sight before him. Whether it was the way your breasts bounced with every thrust he made, the sight of his cock disappearing in and out of your tight pussy, or your face screwed up in pure bliss. He didn’t know where to look.

Unbeknownst to Jungkook, you too were just as entranced at the sight before you as he was. You don’t think you can ever get enough of the sight of Jungkook’s cock sliding in and out your cunt.

You racked your hands up Jungkook’s abs and chest before wrapping them around his neck, instantly pulling him a little closer to you.

You always admired Jungkook’s well defined abs, he had the physique of a greek god. You remembered the first time you caught a glimpse of his hard abs and how weak in the knees it made you. Jungkook had just come out of shower with only a pair of sweats on. You were in the living room, buried in a book when he strotted into the kitchen to grab a bottle water. You remembered blushing furiously as you tried to hide your face behind your book before he could catch you staring. Since then, you dreamt of feeling his abs beneath your fingertips.

Once again, you felt your breath hitched in your throat as Jungkook leaned his face only a few centimeters away from yours. He was now resting himself on his forearms from above you. Your heart was beating in your ears now from how close his face was to yours. You could feel his warm breath on your skin and you could count every eyelash as he fluttered

Catching you by surprise, Jungkook pressed his lips onto yours, snaking his tongue into your mouth. As he pulled away, a thin string of salivia connected you two.

“How could I have been such a fucking idiot to let another man have you like this?”

“M-mhm, no need to worry Kook”, as fucked out as you were right now, you managed to pull yourself together to give him a coherent reply, “a-am all yours..”

Jungkook felt his heart swell with pride in his own chest at your declaration, “and I yours, bunny.”

With each thrust hitting you in your sweet spot, you inched closer to that familiar sensation. Jungkook too could tell that you were getting close, evident by your pussy clenching more sporadically around his cock. Griping the sheets beneath you, you started babbling pleas and cries for more almost incoherently as you felt yourself getting closer and closer.

Re-adjusting his position, Jungkook now sat up and griped your hips as he began fucking you faster and at a deeper position.

“C’mon, bunny”, Jungkook grunted, he too was unsure how much longer he’d be able to last, “Cream all over my cock.”

It was Jungkook’s words that finally edged you to your high. You felt your eyes squeeze shut as you screamed in pure bliss, muscles contracting as you finally felt the relief that your body had been begging for wash over you.

It was a glorious sight, really, watching you lose yourself beneath him. You were milking his cock for all he was worth and he could feel himself start to lose himself as well. You could feel it too, his thrusts gradually becoming more shallow and losing their rthymtic pace. Locking your arms around his neck, you leaned forward to pepper kisses on his jawline.

“Come in me, Kook”, you whispered softly, batting your eyelashes at him, “wanna feel you.”

Not a second longer passed by and Jungkook’s warm seed was spilling inside you, filling you up completely. The world around you seemed to slow down and you drew dizzy at how full you felt in the moment.

Slowing down his pace to a stop, you felt Jungkook lay himself to rest behind you. Still partially buried inside your hole, he wrapped his arm around your tummy, pulling you snug to his chest. For a few moments, the two of you laid like this, just caught up in the moment and trying to catch each other's breath.

“You good now, bunny?”, Jungkook asked, finally breaking the silence. You replied with a hum of satisfaction, buring your head deeper in his chest, you could hear his rapidly beating heartbeat slow down a bit.

Feeling you relax beneath him, Jungkook slid his cock out from your trembling pussy. A conconation of his semen and your juices instantly squelching out. You whined at the loss of him and at the sensation of your juices running down your hole.

Grabbing a few tissues from the side of your bed, Jungkook lazily wiped both of you down as to not sully the bed further. Making a mental note to wash your sheets first thing in the morning.

“Jungkook?”

“Yes Bun?”

“Don’t date those other girls anymore, ‘kay?”

Feeling himself melt at your cuteness, Jungkook chuckled before leaning down to kiss you on your forhead.

“Okay, promise I won’t. Not when I have you.”

#jungkook x reader #jungkook x y/n #jungkook smut #jungkook x hybrid reader #jungkook imagine #bts imagines #bts x reader #jimin x reader #jungkook fanfic #bts fanfic

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yovrnewromantic · 7 months

Text

THE LINE—

pairings: steve harrington x henderson!reader

1 — part 2 coming soon…

words: 3.6k

Summary: You realize the line between love and hate is very thin as you babysit and monster hunt alongside Steve Harrington.

Leaning pathetically against your locker, you banged your head against the metal, tugging on the end of your cheerleading skirt that got caught in the door when you slammed it shut. It’s your fault really, you were so happy to get it open for once. Of course, it had to be too good to be true.

“Need some help with that?”

Your lips swerved into a smile at the familiar voice, leaning away from your locker to look at one of your favorite girls.

“Yes, Nancy. Please!” you pleaded, laughing as the girl stepped forward, easily opening your locker door, not even needing to ask the combination from the amount of times she’s had to open it.

Nancy Wheeler smiled smugly when your locker opened, releasing you and your skirt.

Nancy had been one of your best friends since you moved to Hawkins along with Chrissy Cunningham and Heather Holloway. At twelve years old, you were anxious, but to your surprise, extremely charismatic. You found friends like wildflowers, something you loved, but Nancy was one of the best. She was like a rose, beautiful and smart, something that drew you to her in the first place.

“My savior! How could I ever repay you?” you joked, mocking a princess before laughing at your own joke, tugging your books tighter to your hip.

Nancy grimaced. “Well,” she started, and your brows furrowed, making you feel uneasy, “Firstly, by not being too mad…”

Nancy shoved a note in your face. You squinted reading the words that alert you that King fucking Steve was waiting for your best friend in the bathroom, wanting to make out. Gross.

“Ew,” you stated, playful smile turning into a pout. Your shoulders slumped, concern kicking in rather than disgust. “Harrington? Really, Nance? You could do so, so much better.”

To you, Steve Harrington was the worst person at Hawkins high. A real player who had absolutely no consideration for anyone’s feeling but his own and his stupid little posse. Generally a piece of shit.

“You owe me,” she mutters, shrugging her shoulder to try to rid her mind of what you were implying, what she had already been anxious about.

“I just think it’s a bad idea,” you say softly, trying not to hurt the poor girls feelings, but really you were just trying to help.

“And why’s that?” she asks, on the defensive.

You shake your head, holding yourself back from rolling your eyes. “He’s a bad idea,” you state simply. “He treats girls like shit and you know better to accept that.”

“You don’t know him.”

“I know that he dumped Charlotte after he had sex with her,” you offered, looking at her with a raised brow. Nancy rolls her eyes.

“Well, that’s Charlotte. And I’m going to see him,” she announces, a little like she’s singing.

Sighing disappointedly, the bell rings in your ears. Great, you’re late.

You give Nancy a look already walking backwards towards your first period. “Make good decisions. Don’t do anything I wouldn’t do!”

“You wouldn’t go out with him the first place!” she calls back, looking at you with a playful expression.

“Exactly.” You smile, finally turning around and heading to your class. When you fully turn, your smile disappears.

Something about Steve makes you anxious, fills your body with unease whenever you two make eye contact when your both at your lockers. You hate the way he smiles smugly at you. And you hate that he’s going after another one of your friends, the fear of her getting hurt makes your stomach ache.

This time, if he hurts her, you hurt him.

And that’s exactly what happened.

You were on your evening walk, frowning at the missing poster you see of Will Byers, your little brother’s best friend and Johnathan Byers, one of your best friends, brother. It’s a saddening sight, especially since the young boy’s funeral. Absolutely heartbreaking.

Frustration is throbbing through your body. You feel helpless, unable to find the boy despite having helped put up posters and searched through the woods countlessly.

You were also angry with yourself for allowing your brother out of the house when you heard the news, letting him and his friends set out in search for him themselves because your heart ached looking into your brother’s teary eyes as he begged you not to tell mom that you caught him sneaking out.

It was stupid, that you told him to keep his walking on him, stay with his friends, and to stay safe or you’d fucking kill him. You’re a shitty sister.

You were an idiot. An idiot people pleaser who never knew when to say no to her friends and family. It was stupid that when your empathetic heart feels their pain you resort to the worse stress reliever, and contradictory to your guilty conscience, violence.

“Harrington, you better get your ass down from that ladder right now!”

You saw him from a mile away, the words spray painted on the movie theatre that you would always take your brother and his friends. The only thing you could make out of it was that Steve fucking Harrington was caught defaminating one of your best friend’s names while vandalizing the cinema.

Steve’s eyes went wide at the sight of you, the beautiful girl who ignored and criticized his every move. His ex-girlfriends best friend. His heart raced at your angry expression. His cheeks probably got a little red too.

“Henderson, what the hell are you doing here?” he asked, sponge pausing its movement to look down at you. Steve had completely forgotten what it looked like had happened, oblivious to everything else around him, his entire focus on you. His fake innocence only made you angrier.

Ignoring his question, you fumed, “Get your ass down or I’m pushing you off this damn ladder!”

Steve’s eyes widened as he muttered curses under his breath, quickly climbing down from the ladder. You pretended that seeing his face bloody and bruised didn’t make your stomach ache.

“Jesus, what your pro—,” You shoved him, and he stumbled back, arms stretched out as his back hits the ladder, “blem!”

“You wrote this? You called Nancy a slut?!”

You pushed him again, and he stumbled again, still looking at you like you’re crazy. He caught your wrists when you went to push him again.

Your hands were held at his chest, pulling you into his chest despite how you try to plant your feet, to stay away from him. Steve still has an bizzare look on his face as he looks down at you, cheeks pink and he’s slightly out of breathe from how he scrambled to grab your wrists. Steve rapidly shakes his head, blurting, “What? No! No, I didn’t!”

You let out a scoff, nodding sarcastically as if you believed him. “So… you just cleaning it up? Bullshit,” you spit, and Steve looks almost hurt by your insinuation.

“Yes! “ He announced, running a hand through his hair when you tugged your wrists free. “I didn’t write this!”

Crossing your arms over your chest, you looked at him accusingly, like he was stupid. “Then who did, Harrington?”

“Tommy.”

“Oh, you’re best friend!” you exclaimed, “That totally makes so much of a difference.”

“No, Henderson, — I.” He groaned. He glanced around, breathing out of his mouth before he pinched his nose. “I should’ve stopped him, I know, but I’m cleaning this up now. I’m trying to fix it.”

“Because you got caught?”

“No! I just—,” he shook his head. “I’m not… friends with those assholes anymore. I just wanna help.”

Really? you thought to yourself. Your nose scrunched as you scanned him up and down for a second with repulsion. He’s not friends with Tommy and Carol anymore? That’s hard to believe.

Your interrogation seemed never ended, and you still had the urge to punch him in the face despite the cuts and bruises that stand prominent on his handsome face. You wet your lips, ignoring your natural concern and continuing. “Help? Help what?”

“I wanna apologize,” he said. “To Nance.”

“Really?” you deadpanned. Steve arms waved wildly before he poked to fingers into his forehead, closing his eyes.

“Yes, I’m sorry. Is it that hard to believe?”

“Yeah, it is, King Steve,” you scoffed, before you let your thoughts slip into your words. You switch your footing, voice quieting ever so slightly when you ask, “What happened to your face?”

He paused.

“Byers,” Steve replied embarrassed, not even looking at you as your eyes widen.

“Really?” You sound surprised, and you are. The boy who’s been the nicest to you, one of your best friends ever since you’d gotten to town. Your babysitting buddy. The boy who’s brother was missing.

“Johnathan did that?” You ask. When he nods, you hum. “You deserved it.”

“I know.”

Humming, you look at Steve for a second, checking out his bloodied face and red knuckles. Next to his foot is the sponge he was using, it’s turning red and it looks like it’s decomposing from overuse. It makes you clear your throat when you catch his eyes again.

Quietly, almost whispering, you ask, “Do you love her?” You gulp, specifying, “Nancy?”

He sighed, and he looked at you for a good minute, clearly contemplating. Truth be told, he didn’t know. She was… different from his other girlfriend.

Steve would be lying to himself if he said that he didn’t like you. He knew he did, since last year and you walked in wearing a pretty little sundress and gave him attitude when he offered to be your prince charming and open your locker. Maybe he liked Nancy a lot, but he didn’t know if you could love someone and stare at their best friend when their back was turned.

He swallowed, shrugging. “I don’t know.”

You don’t like him. You don’t like him. You don’t like him.

Steve’s word make you nod to yourself, ignoring the relief you feel that he’s not in love with her for Nancy’s sake. Clearly, Steve was a shitty teenage boy, and even worse boyfriend, but you believed in change.

“You really want to make things right?” you question, still trying to keep your guard up despite how you feel them crashing down around you. Goddammit, you hate Steve Harrington.

“Yes,” he groaned, meaningfully.

In your head, you were screaming. Blood curdling, a homicide victim type of screaming, and it’s so loud, so so freaking loud that you couldn’t hear your own thoughts. Maybe, that’s why you make a dumb decision.

You shrug, already turning around to start walking. “Okay, then. Let’s go.”

“Wait, what? Where?”

“To go see Nancy,” you scoffed, as if it was common knowledge. Impatiently, you said, “Come on, I don’t want to be seen with you.”

You trudged forward, once white sneakers thumping against the sidewalk. Behind you, you can hear Steve jog forward, eager to catch up with you.

It doesn’t take long, but the moment he’s beside you, words spill from his lips, quickly. “I— I have my car.”

Pausing in your step, you begrudgingly looked at Steve, quite relieved that you don’t have to walk all the way to Jonathan’s house. “Okay. Where?”

“Over here,” Steve says, almost out of breath as he points to his car. You head towards it without a second thought, harshly pulling on his passenger car door and glaring at him when it doesn’t open.

Steve looks at you strangely, kinda of afraid of you, and he puts his key in before opening the door for you. You don’t look at him, not even when he gets inside the driver seat and starts the car, too busy staring out the window.

“Do you, um, want any music?” Steve stutters, looking at you hesitantly. You roll your eyes.

“You not talking is enough for me,” you smile, sarcastically.

“Oh,” Steve deadpans, biting his lips at he turns away from you, ready to drive.

Great, now you feel bad. You offer, “What do you have?”

“Yeah— yeah, I have Beat It, some AC/DC, Uptown Girl—

“Uptown Girl, please,” you cut him off. Your casual manners make Steve blush. You don’t even notice that you said it, and it reminds Steve how good you are. You were solid good.

A good girl.

A nice girl.

And one who wants nothing to do with him.

Go figure.

Steve realizes how fucked up his mind is as his knuckles turn white on the stirring wheel. He starts to drive, listening to you hum while starring out the window, sometimes cutting yourself off to tell him directions to Jonathan’s house.

When he asked why there, you said that he had to apologize to Jonathan first. He listens to you for reasons he could not comprehend, because he found himself trusting you despite how much you must hate because he knows you.

In the hallways, he’d watched you tell freshmen directions, laugh on your way to class, help kids who would drop things. You’d barely notice the boys that trailed after you that you thought were only friends, and he’d watch you scold them whenever they were mean to some freak, or nerd, or geek, in the halls.

You were nice. The nicest girl at that damn school, and unbeknownst to you, The Queen Of Hawkins High.

He can’t keep his eyes off you, and he’s never felt guiltier. He let his friend call his girlfriend a slut while he was yearning to kiss her best friend on the way to apologize to her. There was something wrong with him. Steve shook his head, letting his eyes part from you and focus on the road.

The drive was slow, but the moment the car parked in the Byers’ driveway, you were quick to usher Steve out.

“Go,” you wave.

“What?” Steve’s heart races. “Right— right now?”

“When else?” you blink.

“Shouldn’t we rehearse something?”

You sigh, holding back a much needed eye roll. A fake smile props on your lips. “‘Jonathan, I’m sorry for fighting you in the middle of the street. That one’s on me,’” you say. “‘Oh, and I feel bad for smashing your camera to little bits. How about I buy you a new one with my daddy’s money?’” You drop your smile. “That good?”

“The camera wasn’t my fault,” he justified.

“I know, I was there. Still, that doesn’t make what you did right, so get out of the car and apologize,” you punctuated.

Steve mouth gaped. Then, he begrudgingly unbuckles his seat belt and grumbles under his breath, stepping out the vehicle. He slams the car door shut.

You snorted a laugh, sinking into Steve’s comfy car seats.

From where your sat, you have a clear viewing of the show. You’re not sure whether or not Jonathan will forgive him. Apart of you hopes he doesn’t. You wouldn’t be surprised if he did.

What did surprise you was watching Steve, under the warm yellow glow from the Byers house lights, pound on the door and then eventually force his way in.

Hastily, you trailed after him, leaves crunching under your quick feet.

“Steve!” you called once in the door way. “This wasn’t what we talked about…”

The words died in your throat as your eyes scattered across the room, the sight of Jonathan, a shit ton of weapons his living room table and Nancy with a gun pointed at Steve’s face had you had you bewildered.

“You two need to leave now!” Jonathan said, but you were more focused on Nancy’s count down, gun still pointed at Steve.

Before you could think, you were shoving yourself in between Steve, Jonathan, and the gun, hand raised in defense. The mass of Christmas lights around you flickered briskly with your final shout, “What is going on?”

Few words between Nancy and Jonathan end with Steve Harrington, grabbing your wrist and dragging you down the hall into a bedroom as a venus-flytrap looking bear rips apart the ceiling.

“What the hell was that,” Steve yelled along with a variety of curses.

“Shut up!” Nancy and Jonathan shouted, synchronized.

You and Steve shared a feared look.

Pounds and gurgles erupt from the other side of the door until they suddenly stopped. In the silence, Nancy and Jonathan exit the room, Steve and you right behind them.

“Are you going to tell us what that was?” you rasped desperately.

Nancy’s reply was short. “A demogorgon.”

You recognized that name. “Like—,” you brows pinched together. “From DnD?”

“That’s what the boys said.”

“The boys,” you repeated. “Like Dustin, Lucas, and Mike? They know about this?”

“Look, Y/N, I’m sorry but we don’t have time for the questions. It’s going to come back, and you two,” she gestures to you and Steve, “need to leave. Right now.”

Breathing heavy, and with the shake of your head, you said, “No.”

“Yes, go,” Nancy said, stepping closer. You were the same height, she couldn’t intimidate you, not even with a gun in her hand. You weren’t going to leave, especially because of the newfound fear of that thing going after your brother.

“Y/N,” Steve tried, eager for the door.

“No, you go,” you said to Steve then turned to Nancy, “I’m staying so either let me help kill it or I’ll stand here and be bait.”

“Fine,” Nancy said.

Jonathan threw you a lighter. “Throw this into the carpet when it’s here.”

Steve felt pathetic watching the three of you. He didn’t want to leave and be a coward, but he didn’t want to die either. One thought over powered the other and he sprinted to his car, but seeing rapid flickering lights, he forced himself back inside.

After swinging a crowbar at the demogorgon and watching it swallow it whole, you were sure you were going to die. You fell back, squeaking in despair as you did so. The demogorgon’s mouth widen, and you may have gotten a little teary eyed at the sight of Jonathan and Nancy on the floor, looking helpless as well.

But to your shock, Steve Harrington jumped in front of you, swinging a bat like he hadn’t quit baseball in seventh grade.

What happened next was blur, but you remember Steve Harrington forcing you to your feet and the sight of a demogorgon enveloped in flames.

—

With shallow breaths, you sat on the wooden porch in front of the Byers’ house, illuminated by a singular warm lantern, recollecting the previous events. Mind racing, you hardly notice the body next to yours.

Well, until, and hand landed on your shoulder. It’s large, much bigger than your own. Your eyes traced the arm up to its owner, seeing a bloody, concerned face staring back at you.

“You okay?” Steve asked, and your heart swelled the slightest bit at his worry. He had just almost killed himself and he was worried about you.

Your eyebrows twitched, the undying desire to hate him still present. “Yeah,” you choked, “I’m fine.”

Steve nodded. He retracted the hand off your shoulder slowly, which you were grateful for. Nancy and Johnathan’s dull chatter filled the void, the four of you too nerved to fully close the front door.

Clearing your throat, you said, not looking at him. “Thank you for — um — saving my life.”

When Steve spoke, you turned to him. “Anybody would’ve done the same.”

“No they wouldn’t have,” you said, entire body angling towards him. You kept your hands in your lap, tediously explaining, “They would’ve ran for the hills, like you should’ve, but you didn’t. So thanks. I owe you one.”

“Don’t mention it,” he griped, but you shook your head with a scoff, readjusting yourself to look straight forward. You went silent again. Not far from you, you can hear the engine of a car, smell the toxic carbon monoxide polluting the air.

Steve Harrington saved your life. King Steve Harrington saved your life.

Laughing to yourself, you eyed Steve carefully. “I never would’ve taken you for a hero, Harrington.”

“Guess you were wrong,” Steve chuckled. His eyes shone particularly bright in the moonlight.

“Mhm,” you hummed, looking to your lap, “maybe about a lot of things too.”

You hadn’t known why you said that. Steve’s lips parted at your words, a dumbfounded look forming on his face.

“Y/N!”

Immediately, your head whipped to the noise. Your eyes widened with recognition to the voice. “Dustin!” you shouted, voice echoing off the trees in question.

A car pulled up, and in the back windows you could see three smiling faces in the window.

Smiling. They’re okay, you told yourself. And free to yell.

“You boys are so lucky.” The words came out forced, a quiver in your voice at the pure relief you feel, rushing to the boys off the porch and watching the three of them exit the car safely. “You could’ve gotten yourselves killed,” you snapped. “Why didn’t you told me?”

Only after you spoke did you notice their red rimmed eyes.

Your lips twitched into a frown. Swallowing back your own tears, you pulled Dustin, Lucas, and Mike into a hug. “I’m so glad you all are okay.”

Vaguely, blue and red flashing lights pull up onto the driveway of the Byers’ house. Police step out their car with questioning looks. It’s not long before one offers to take you and your brother home.

Glancing behind you, Steve Harrington’s eyes found yours swiftly, as if they had been trained to you this entire time. Hesitantly, you raised your hand, not very high, but just visibly for him to see. You gave Steve a small wave.

He smiled at you, and you were sure that it hurt.

been meaning to write a steve fic for a while. he’s so boyfriend and i’m a huge hopelessly pining/enemies to lovers girly

not my best, probably will rewrite in the future

#yovrnewromantic #stranger things x reader #steve harrington #steve harrington x reader #steve harrington x you #steve x reader #steve #steve harrington stranger things #stranger things #billy hargove x reader #eddie munson x reader #steve harrington x henderson!reader #henderson!reader #dustin henderson #dustin henderson x reader #dustin henderson x sister!reader #king steve #king steve harrington #cheerleader

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blueskittlesart · 2 months

Note

i get that people’s first reaction for the religious thing is often negative—being raised irish catholic i experience the same knee-jerk reaction—but that’s because we as adults are approaching the ideology from an adult perspective. we have our own associations with both religion as a concept in general, as well as the social phenomena around religion (and for this post specifically we’re talking about christianity more than anything else). kids don’t have that experience, and so while it might feel really uncomfortable to an adult listening to them speak with such a casual incorporation of it into their worldview, they truly wouldn’t see why that could be. and it’s only when it they’re older and it becomes the only point of perspective or logic for them that it’s truly a problem

EXACTLY. if you don't have a lot of experience with very young children it may be hard to conceptualize, but especially preschool-aged children are still learning LITERALLY EVERYTHING. like, I said the word "collision" when two of my kids ran into each other the other day and then had to have a like 10 minute conversation about what that word means and why I said it. Everything in the world is a new experience for them, including morality, storytelling, and social interaction. there's a specific, scientifically documented developmental stage (usually between ages 2.5-3) where they learn for the first time that they can lie. before that stage, they genuinely don't understand the concept that something can be fake, and it often takes even longer for them to understand that other people, especially adults, can lie to THEM, too. everything in their world is true unless proven otherwise, which can be a scary way for adults to hear religious concepts addressed, since among adults that kind of rhetoric very often goes hand in hand with radical beliefs or conspiracy thought. but for a child, it's just an age-appropriate way to conceptualize religion.

children of that age are also very self-centered in their thinking and largely assume that their lived experience is the same as everyone else's, and that anything outside their own little world doesn't exist. we almost all assumed as kids that our teachers lived at school. I once had a kid with lesbian parents ask me where my 'other mom' was. children I babysit for will very often be upset that I don't inherently know where things are in their house, because to them it's the most obvious thing in the world. they're still developing empathy and the ability to think from someone else's perspective doesn't exist yet. again, irt religion, when that kind of sentiment is expressed by an adult it's usually a supremacist or evangelical who believes that all other religions are inherently evil and their religion is inherently good, but that's not what it means when a kid expresses self-centered thought about their religion. it just means that they haven't yet learned that other people view the world differently.

#side tangent maybe but i think if you ever plan to have children or interact with children meaningfully you should know at least the basics #of child development. because so many people treat young children HORRIBLY because they want them to act like little adults #but like. that kid has been alive for five years total. they're not going to think or talk about things like a grown up.#kids have to learn literally everything in the world from scratch. you need to be able to empathize with that #asks

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hauntedhowlett-writes · 1 year

Note

Can you write something where Joel is trying not to fuck you (maybe because of your age or something), and then he caves out of pure horniness. I seriously have a kink for always in control men - losing control.

Thank you for the message!! I hope you like this little story!

title: the babysitter

pairing: pre-outbreak!joel miller x babysitter!female reader

rating: explicit (18+ MDNI)

content warnings/tags: explicit sexual content (18+ MDNI), age difference (21F and 36M), power imbalance dynamics, begging, pet names, oral sex (f receiving), kinda perv Joel, no use of y/n.

You’re asleep on the couch when Joel comes home from a night at the bar with Tommy. The TV casts a blue glow over your soft features. Your plush pink lips are slightly parted, and your tits remain barely covered by the tank top you wore over that evening to babysit Sarah.

You’ve been Sarah’s babysitter since you were eighteen and Joel was desperate to find a balance between being a single father and getting the chance to spend some time out with his friends and brother, usually at a dive bar shooting pool like they did tonight. His neighbor had recommended you, a sweet young girl who just graduated high school and worked as a babysitter for extra cash while attending the community college.

Now you were approaching twenty-one, a whole fifteen years his junior. Something Joel has to remind himself on nights like tonight, when his eyes greedily roam across your exposed skin and commit the view of your nipples straining against your tight tank top to memory.

He’s had a few drinks tonight. Nothing crazy, but he feels the buzz in his veins as he continues to watch you. You shift positions, turning more on your back and raising your arms up, the motion exposing a strip of stomach above the waistband of the shorts you’d worn.

Joel can normally tamp down the thoughts he has about you, sweeping them under a metaphorical rug to be ignored. But tonight, he lets himself drink his fill, storing it away for later.

Surely there’s no harm in that?

He needs to wake you up, needs to hand you the handful of twenties and walk you to your car, just like he does every other evening you babysit for him. He reaches a hand out to grip your shoulder, giving it a gentle shake. Your brow furrows, but you otherwise don’t stir. He lets his palm linger in your warm skin, swallowing down the urge to drag his hand lower, to cup your breast in his palm and see if a pinch of your nipple makes your back arch in ecstasy.

He tries another shake, followed by a murmur of your name. That has you blinking up at him, eyes heavy with sleep.

“Mr. Miller? What times’it?” You slur. He checks his watch.

“Just past 12,” he tells you. His hand is still on your shoulder.

“Oh. I’m sorry I fell asleep,” you tell him with a yawn. “Guess I didn’t realize how tired I was.”

You lick your lips, staring up at him. His brain is screaming at him to remove his hand, to take a step back and take a breath, to remind himself that you’re the babysitter.

But your head tilts, appraising him. Keen eyes stare back at him like you know exactly what he’s thinking.

“Mr. Miller?” You ask again, voice breathier. Joel’s fingers flex against your skin. You press your shoulders into the couch cushion, the movement causing his hand to drift lower, the tips of his fingers just grazing the flesh of your breast.

Your breathing becomes rapid, but you remain still. Joel swallows harshly, his fingers inching the slightest bit lower. Your lashes flutter as he slips the tip of his pinky beneath the neckline of your tank top.

He takes a harsh breath, ready to withdraw his hand and chalk this up to a brief moment of insanity, but as he tries to move away, your hands grip his wrist.

“I can’t do this, honey,” Joel says. You whine, tilting your head back.

“Please?” You ask. Your hands release his wrist, and Joel knows he should hold strong.

But then your own hands are drifting down your body, caressing your curves before dipping beneath the waist of your shorts. Joel’s heart beats a mile a minute, a frantic pulsing in his chest as he watches you with unwavering focus.

Your hips jolt as your fingers swipe against your clit. His view is hindered by your shorts and he wants nothing more than to remove them and replace your fingers with his.

“It’s okay, Mr. Miller,” you say, eyes wide as you stare up at him. “You can touch me. I want it.”

“No,” Joel says, but it sounds weak even to his own ears. And you notice it, too.

“Please,” you beg. Your hips grind against your hand. “I’ll be such a good girl for you.”

Joel’s eyes flutter closed as he takes a deep, steadying breath. In through his nose, out through his mouth.

“You’re too young for me, darlin’,” he finally says. He lifts his hand from your shoulder and you give a sad little whine that has him grinding his teeth together.

“Why are you being so mean?” You accuse.

“You don’t know what mean is.”

“Why don’t you show me, then?”

You remove your hand from your shorts. Even in the dim light of the TV he can see the unmistakable shimmer of your slick coating your fingers. When you spread them, a thin thread stretches between your digits.

He watches it stretch to its limit before snapping. And much like that thread of fluid, the last of his control snaps, too.

“Take off your shorts,” Joel says. When you don’t move he snaps, “Don’t make me ask again.”

That gets you moving, your hips lifting from the cushions so that your hands can shove your shorts down to your ankles. You gaze up at him, waiting for instruction.

Joel moves your outer leg off the couch, your foot settling on the floor. He kneels between the new space and lets his hungry eyes consume you.

“Dirty girl,” he murmurs. He collects the saliva on his tongue, spitting it harshly against your pussy, your body jolting and your head dropping back with a moan. “Quiet. You gotta be quiet, okay.”

You nod your head quickly, teeth digging against your lip to make good on your promise. Satisfied, Joel leans down and licks a broad stripe through your slick folds, the tip of his tongue dipping into your entrance before he drags it up to circle your clit.

You’re writhing beneath him as he attends to your needy cunt, your whimpers such music to his ears that he doesn’t have the heart to tell you to be quiet again.

Your fingers grip his shoulders, the bite of your nails into the thick muscle making him groan against your center. He can feel your hole flutter against his tongue and takes the opportunity to slip a finger into your tight heat.

You gasp, back arching as you shatter around

him, cunt pulsing deliciously around his finger. He’d love nothing more than to feel you around his cock.

But this has already gone too far.

He withdraws his hand, reaching down to grab your shorts and pull them up your legs. Your brow furrows in confusion.

“What are you doing?” You ask.

“It’s time you head home,” he says, not daring to meet your eyes. You’re still and quiet for so long he finally chances a glance.

To his surprise, your lips are tilted into a smirk. You shuffle onto your knees, bringing yourself face to face with him. You reach for his hand, keeping your eyes trained to his as you slip the finger coated in your release into your mouth.

You hum, and Joel has to fight the moan clawing its way up his throat. You release his finger with a slick pop before rising to stand.

“I’ll see you next week, Mr. Miller,” you say casually.

#joel miller #joel miller x reader #joel miller fic #joel miller smut #joel miller x female reader #joel miller fanfiction #no use of y/n #joel miller x you #joel tlou #fic request

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the-fiction-witch · 3 months

Text

Cuddles

Media - House Of The Dragon Character - Lucerys Velaryon Couple - Lucerys X Reader Reader - Y/n (Betrothal) Rating - Flirty Word Count - 1709

Lucerys makes his way to the Dragonmount, the stone entryway to the large intricate volcanic tunnels and caves where the dragons reside when in Dragonstone, where the many dragons linger during daily business. As he arrives the Dragonkeepers usher him to the caves Arrax calls his home, There Arrax was lying in his cave surrounded by hay and pig bones, with another familiar dragon, Silverspike the two dragons seem to be comforting each other, even cuddling each other.

Lucerys gives the keepers a strange look as he sees Arrax and Silverspike, the two young dragons intertwined with each other among the piles of bones. He takes a few tentative steps into the cave, careful not to alarm or anger the two dragons. He whistles softly, the way he trained to make Arrax come to him.

However, Arrax didn't listen.

Lucerys calls to Arrax again, a bit of a pout on his face, starting to wonder if Arrax was mad at him for something. He tries once more but this time in a different tone, a bit of an authoritative one this time, to make it seem like he meant business for his dragon.

the dragon keepers left to attend to other business and Lucerys tried repeatedly to get Arrax to listen but still, the dragon ignored him.

"You’re wasting your time Luke" a voice comes from behind him,

As he turned he saw Y/n, dressed in her red leather trousers and black silk shirt dress her boots high and her archery equipment over her shoulder, he blushed a little as she was of course very beautiful but things had been a little strange between them since his mother confirmed their betrothal before the court just a few weeks ago,

Lucerys clearly frustrated, his cheeks puffed up from blowing air out of his cheeks, his pout even more prominent. He turns to face her, that pout disappearing and replaced with a smile, but he was unable to make eye contact with her. “I don’t know what’s wrong with him,” Lucerys grumbles. “Seems like he’s mad at me or something..”

"Awww sweet Luke, don't take it too personally." She smiled as she came through to stand with him, "Dragons have Their own minds and intentions and clearly he's very busy. It's alright I can't get her to listen to me when she gets cuddled with him either" she explained as she too tried to get her dragon Silverspike to come over, but Silverspike and Arrax where too happy together to care that their riders had to say,

Lucerys chuckles as he watches Silverspike stay put, despite her best attempts. He smiles over at Y/n, looking at her for a few moments before turning his head back to watch the two dragons cuddle, sighing with annoyance. “They can be so stubborn sometimes, I wish I knew what they were thinking…”

"ohh I'm pretty confident I know what they are thinking about Luke..." She chuckled,

Lucerys gives her a side-eye, raising an eyebrow as an indication for explanation. He chuckled and folded his arms across his chest. He looked at her up and down, before he finally focused and returned his eyes to hers. “Oh yeah? And what exactly are they thinking about?”

"Well, as mysterious as dragons are they are animals, just as you and I. And Arrax is growing into a big strong gentleman dragon, and Silverspike is a lovely lady" She tried to hint at what the dragons were clearly up to,

Lucerys’s face slowly grows in realization as he sees where she’s going with this, his mind trying to connect the dots. His face starts to grow red as he imagines two dragons trying to… ”You don’t mean…” Lucerys gasps suddenly, turning around to face her with horror on his face, his eyes wide. “But… they can’t… they’re not… are they?”

"mhm," she nodded,

His mouth is agape as he stands, dumbfounded, trying to process the gravity of the situation. He thought it had to be a joke, but the look on Y/n’s face said otherwise. ”Oh gods…” he muttered quietly, looking over at Arrax and Silverspike, who were still cuddling together. He couldn’t believe what he was seeing.

"I'm sure you can't blame him for not listening, I'm sure you wouldn't want to go off on a flight if you had a pretty lady snuggling up with you,”

He chuckled his face still blushing furiously. “Yeah, I guess you’re right… I’m just… I didn’t think they’d be… in the mood for that anytime so soon…”

"they mature faster than we do," she chuckled,

He chuckled with her, shaking his head. He looked over at the two dragons as they lay together in a pile of bones and hay, cuddling comfortably. ”Is this going to be a regular thing now?” he asked, turning to face her.

"Possibly, it could be. Maybe they've fallen in love" she smiled,

He chuckled, smiling warmly at her as she spoke. The thought of Arrax and Silverspike falling in love just like a boy and girl would made him chuckle again. He thought for a moment before replying. “You suppose they’ll lay eggs together anytime soon?”

"They might, Silverspike is certainly old enough to lay eggs, and the dragon keepers do think she will be a very fertile dragon just like Syrax"

He swallowed as he heard her say that. The thought of Arrax and Silverspike laying eggs together made his heart flutter, in a mixture of anxiousness and nervousness. He chuckled again, running his fingers through his hair. “So.. They’ll make little dragon babies then?”

"they might, if they have eggs together and they hatch." She nodded, "Who knows... Maybe Silverspike will lay a clutch of eggs not long after we get married," she suggested, "perhaps we could even put one of Arrax and Silverspikes eggs in our little one's cradle someday," she smiled giving his arm a gentle elbow,

His heart began to race as she continued to speak. The image of him and her, husband and wife, together with their child, with an egg in the cradle for them to hatch and claim, was almost too tantalizing. He chuckled softly, the thought of it filling him with excitement and anticipation. ”That actually sounds… kind of wonderful,” he admitted with a shy grin, rubbing the back of his head.

"I think it would be too, One day" she smiled "When we are lord and lady of Driftmark, Arrax and Silverspike can cuddle up by the beach all day in the sun, their little baby dragon struggling in your little heir's cradle" she encouraged,

The very visualization of it made butterflies flitter in Lucerys’s stomach. The image of him and Y/n, lord and lady of Driftmark, ruling together, raising their child together, and being a family with Arrax, Silverspike, and their children together… it was a beautiful thought. ”You paint a pretty picture,” he commented with a grin, looking over at Arrax and Silverspike again, his grin growing into an excited smile. He paused for a few moments, continuing to watch the two dragons cuddle together. He imagined what their baby dragons would look like, what colour they would inherit from Arrax and Silverspike, and the thought made him even more excited. ”You really think this is something that could happen?” he asked, a bit of a dreamy, hopeful look in his eyes.

"Well we are betrothed, and our dragons do seem close so I'm sure it's possible"

He chuckled, agreeing with her. He looked at the two young dragons, cuddling and snuggling up together, their eyes closed as if they were already asleep in each other’s arms. He smiled at the sight of it. ”So…” he started off slowly, looking over at her, a playful smirk on his face. “… what if I was to want to do something along with this whole cuddling thing?”

"What?" She chuckled

He chuckled, taking a side step closer to her. They were pretty secluded in the cave, and the dragon keepers weren’t paying attention to either of them. He glanced over at the sleeping dragons one more time, the coast clear, before he turned back to look at her, his smirk still present. ”What if I said… I wanted to cuddle with you too?”

"oh do you now?" She raised an eyebrow at him for a moment trying to test if he was serious

He was dead serious. He took another step closer to her, now practically standing right in front of her, his smirk now a cheeky grin. “Yes, I’m dead serious.” he stated bluntly, his eyes looking her over and up and down as his cheeks grew flushed pink.

Y/n chuckled a little and gave his cheek a kiss, "You’re a sweetheart" she smiled tussling his hair

The kiss on his cheek made his heart skip a beat, and the way her hand went through his curls as she tousled his hair made his cheeks grow even more flushed pink. He chuckled as she called him a sweetheart, his smile almost as bright as the sun. He looked up at her, tilting his head up to meet her gaze, despite being a few inches shorter then she. “Only for you,” he replied with a grin.

"Well, you're more than welcome to come up to my chambers for a cuddle if you'd like Luke, I'm pretty sure we're not going out riding with them today," she chuckled, "Then again I suppose that all depends on exactly what sort of cuddle you intend?"

His mind began to race as she spoke. A mix of excitement and nervousness washed over him as she mentioned the idea of them going to her chambers. His heartbeat quickened, his cheeks flushed, and his palms grew a bit sweaty. He swallowed before replying, trying to keep his voice steady. “That… that sounds nice.” he said simply, his eyes looking from her face, down her body, and back up again, He smirked at her.

"All alright" she smiled turning his chin to her and giving his lips a quick kiss before she bolted through the caves "Race you!" She yelled

He jumped in shock and surprise for a moment as she suddenly turned his chin and kissed him on the lips. It felt good and he wanted to lean in for more, but before he could, she bolted through the caves.

”HEY!!” he yelled out before starting to chase after her.

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tenjikufag · 2 months

Text

He Found Us.

Gojo Satoru x Male!Reader

-hurt/no comfort, young ‘parents’, Gojo saving megumi, not exactly from canon

-no one requested but this was on my mind for awhile, kind of breaking my own rules since I don’t like writing about parental roles/kids. Hope you enjoy!

Freshly 19, your boyfriend and you had moved into an apartment close to Jujutsu tech- he’d decided on becoming a mentor, a teacher, an an overseer of the school. He said it was because there was nothing suitable for him to do as job like other sorcerers do, but you knew it was because he was already far too deep into the politics of everything.

He was a target, if he were to be out of their grasps they’d do anything to put him down like a dog. Many favoured ones in past history were..

All that to say,

You lived an okay life.

Satoru had decided on the two of you living here for the foreseeable future, it was a safe place and just a walking distance for him to get into the school.

You kept up with curse fields, taking out threats like a janitor of sorts, that’s what it felt like. Nothing serious, but you always felt a twinge of unease.

Something was about to happen.

You weren’t sure what, or if it was good or bad.

But you hated surprises.

You liked to be in the know, be prepared for what’s coming. It was bothersome to allow such annoyances ruin your day, week, month, or even life.

Satoru knew this, and yet..

You had come home to a child in your apartment.

A young, spiky black haired, dark blue eyed boy sat on your couch.

Your boyfriend trying to feed him, only to be ignored by the kid- a visible scowl on the poor kids face.

“Who is that?”

The kid looked over at you, small finger pointing in your direction to which your boyfriends gaze followed- eyes brightening when they landed on you.

“That’s Y/n! He’s my boyfriend and he’ll be takin care of ya with me!”

Huh? Taking care of him? You didn’t sign up for babysitting, you had a packed schedule for the foreseeable days and weeks- no way in hell are you putting your job aside to take care of some kid.

“Huh? We babysitting?”

Approaching the pair, the kid shrunk into the couch and Gojo mumbled apologies under his breathe to the child.

“I uh, we are gonna raise him. Keep him safe, yknow? I already got all his school fundin’ taken care of-“

“What?”

You didn’t want to say anything brash, the kid obviously already emotional and bothered by the situation..

But what did he mean? Funding? School? Raising?!

There were no indications of him lying, especially with the way he tried to interact with the kid, trying to push himself into its space and almost coddle him..

Gulping, you stepped away and quickly left again.. you’d let Satoru take care of the kid until nightfall- when you came back maybe you could talk to him and make sense of it all with the kid asleep.

Kids was never a discussion you’d had with him.. I mean hell, you were two dudes. Not that there was ever any problem in your mind of same sex parents but it was never.. anything you’d envisioned for yourself. Nor was it recognized in Japan, you couldn’t even get married!

And… You didn’t want kids.

Maybe Satoru did..

What he had said about raising him.. your skin raised with goosebumps at the ‘implications’. Where did he even get the kid?! It wouldn’t be out of the question that he had happened to kidnap a kid but he couldn’t be that stupid, right?

It felt surreal, a child had infiltrated your ‘okay’ life.. you were too young to have a child in tow, what the hell did you know about raising a kid?! What did Satoru know about anything?!

It was too dangerous to have young child around, there was a reason curse users were typically born to clans; they were given a community to protect the young and vulnerable. They knew how to take care of their own, despite all the other problems they at least made sure the new heirs lived!

You didn’t even know if the kid had any cursed energy or could even see anything! This was an occupational hazard, not only for the kid but for the two of you!

Scenarios of the horrors you could face because of this made your body buzz and shake, what the hell is Satoru thinking..

—

It was dark, the night had fallen upon the now quiet city. Only a few drunks and night shift workers stumbled around.. even with the quiet, a buzzing in your ear persisted. The buzz of having to confront your boyfriend about bringing a child home without your consent.

It was a confident guess that the kid had no one else, maybe Satoru had become a saviour of sorts.. the surprise was still unforgivable.

It was dangerous.

The two of you were dangerous.

The kid deserves a safe place to grow. A stable family, not two teen dads.

And definitely not a single teen dad, if that’s what it came to.

If he didn’t have a sound explanation and plan, you weren’t going to stick around to see them fall into the depths of whatever hell awaited.

—

The door to your apartment felt like a doomed closet door, one a kid would be afraid held monsters inside. An emanating aura that only you’d fabricated oozed from it.. the cold steel on your hand causing a pulsing shiver down your spine as you turned it.

The lights were off, your apartment filled with a voiced darkness and silence.. quietly, you shut the door behind you and locked it.

It felt like you were intruding, a stranger in your home. There was no greeting, no bouncing white haired man to smile at you coming home.

“Satoru?”

A light quickly turned on, Satoru popping out of your shared bedroom in his sleep clothes. Before he could pounce on you with a typical hug, you stopped his arms and pinned them to his sides; inspecting him closely

“Is it asleep?”

“It?”

“The kid Satoru. Is it asleep?”

His lip curled in disapproval at the use of ‘it’ for a kid.

“His name is Megumi.”

“I don’t need to know it’s name.”

“He’s staying here, learn his name and stop calling him an ‘it’!”

The twisting of a scowl played on your face, letting go of him you asked once again

“Is the kid asleep?”

“Yeah, he’s been out for at least an hour.”

“Good. We need to talk.”

With a weak grip, you grabbed his wrist and led him into the bedroom once again, being sure to close the door behind you and sitting on the bed.

“Why? Why would you do this?”

He looked at you, an ignorant aura playing off him as he tilted his head.

“Do what?”

“Don’t play stupid with me Satoru, why the hell would you bring a kid home?! What are you thinking?!”

You tried not to yell, with the exasperated tone you took your voice crackled. Satoru looked at you, you held your head in your hands and he could see how you pulled at the hairs that laid themselves in your fingers.

“He had no one, he was going to be sold off to the Zen’in clan.. he was entrusted to me. I got it all figured out. Don’t worry..”

He tried to touch you, pry your hands from ripping out your hair.

“And why did you have to be the someone to take him? Don’t you understand the gravity of this situation?!”

“Yes, I do!”

With a quick swift move, you were on your feet and in your boyfriends face- an accusatory finger jabbing into his chest

“What exactly is the plan, Satoru? Huh? What is this grand plan of yours that has you so confident?”

Through gritted teeth, you waited. Waited for the grand plan and scheme the white haired man had thought up- you couldnt think of anything worthwhile in terms of the child, there were no benefits to this situation. None that you could see, even for yourself, and definitely not for the kid alone.

Why didn’t he let the kid be sold off? Why didn’t he take the kid to an orphanage, a safe haven, hell why didn’t he just surrender the kid?! He could’ve brought it anywhere, but he brought the kid here!

Surely there were better options than to take up parenting a kid. You weren’t there, you wouldn’t know, but the bottom line was that it was irresponsible and unsafe.

“He’s going to train and become a sorcerer. I’ll take him under my wing.”

The kid.. would be a sorcerer? Why? Why the hell would he sign off a kids life? He and you didn’t get a choice in the matter of becoming sorcerers, most of the people you knew didn’t have a choice either.

He, on his own cognizance, took it into his own hands to force a child into this. The kid could’ve been given a normal, safe, cozy life if he had been surrendered. Your heart was beating out of your chest.

This was selfish.

Did he want to play a grand saviour? What exactly did he gain from this? Good-will can only go so far, you can want the best for a kid that was presented with being sold off but to take them and put them in an equally, if not more, dangerous scenario was.. it was unfathomable.

“What do you mean?”

With your throat running dry, he started talking of the life long plan he had made up for the kid. He was going to take care of him not only financially but step up as a proper parental figure in the absence of his own. The idea was.. absurd in your mind.

What did the higher ups think of this?! It was clear that the funding had been allocated and discussed with them.. and they’re letting him do whatever? You knew he didn��t care what they thought and that he would go off on his own to make it work but wasn’t this negligent? It made your stomach ache, you couldn’t imagine the future and what it held anymore.

“What’s his full name?”

“Fushiguro Megumi.”

…

“..Toji? Toji Fushiguro? That’s his kid?! What’s wrong with you Satoru?”

You backed away from him, body shaking in anxiety. This situation was far more dangerous than you’d initially thought.

“No wonder the Zen’ins wanted him! God, don’t you think?! Have you ever thought about anyone else outside of yourself in this situation? The kid is gonna grow up fucked up, Satoru!”

He grabbed your wrist, keeping you from leaving.

“Of course I thought about others! This is the first time in forever that I’ve actually cared about a cause! This kid will do unthinkable things, I know it. He has refined cursed technique already-“

“He has a technique? He’s going to bring carnage, Satoru. This is not a good thing, not to me, no matter how you frame it. I don’t see the good in it for the kid either, surrender him. He’ll live a better life then.”

“I’m not doing that. I made promises that I can’t let up.”

“I won’t stay here, I won’t watch you open the flood gates with this. This is dangerous.”

Pulling away from him, you pulled a duffel bag out from under your bed and started packing. You didn’t need much, just enough to keep you away for atleast a week.

“You won’t.. stay?”

“No, I won’t. I didn’t sign up for this. I love you, I do. But this is.. not something I want to be involved in. Having a kids death on my hands is not on my bucket list.”

“So you think he’ll die?”

“I know he’ll die. Not everyone is born with your gifted skill set, even if he shows promise you’re only useful to him when you’re around him. Whose to say the higher ups won’t snap his neck as soon as you’re out of sight, what’s stopping the Zen’ins from coming in and taking him from you?”

Shoving a final item into your bag, you stood and slung it over your shoulder.

“This isn’t going to be a fight I’ll be at your side for. I won’t be involved.”

Satoru looked at you in shock, he didn’t expect this from you at all. He expected you to be right by his side and help him with the transition, help him with the training and care of Megumi. The fact you’d so easily made up your mind and were already leaving not even a day into him being Megumi home.. it hit him hard. His body was frozen, feeling as if he’d crumble if he moved even a step.

He could only watch as you left the room.

You shut the door behind you, and quietly you put your bag by the door.. some weird instinct called you to check on Megumi. The guest room, well you’d guess now his bedroom, light was still off and there were no sounds coming from it. You approached, quietly turning the knob and peaking into the room.. Megumi laid in the bed peacefully sleeping.. his cheek squished against the plush pillow and a faint sheen of drool on the corner of his lip.. the scene laid before you made a faint smile tingle on your lips. Sighing softly, you entered the room quietly, barely making a sound on the floor with your steps.

You stood over the child, inspecting the things he’d brought with him.. seemed like a backpack and his own little duffel bag of things.. you knew Satoru wouldn’t leave the room until morning, or until Megumi woke up. So you’d leave the kid with one thing.

Chanting quietly, your fingers crossed and intertwined as you laid a seal on the boy. A protective seal. Satoru wouldn’t be with him 24/7, it was impossible.

The seal would protect him from other curse users, since he was young enough that his cursed energy was near undetectable this would ensure that he would go unnoticed by both users and rogue curses- at this stage the seal would also grow with him and his advancements.

Changing positions, you went to the opposite side of him and laid a second seal. This was a normal seal, one a parent would put on a young or weak clan/family member to know if they are hurt or in imminent danger. It was a duly designed formation that needed two to properly seal it- you tethered the other half to Satoru. It gave you piece of mind. Even if you weren’t going to be involved, someone other than Satoru needed to be on the kids side.. and you cared. Even if you didn’t want to, you did.

Breathing out, the final string of energy expelled from you and left a faint symbol on the kids forehead. He would be protected until he was atleast 10 or so.. hopefully he will live long enough for this seal to eventually fade, maybe he’ll progress fast enough to take it off himself.. softly smiling, you got up and left the room, making sure to close the door as gently as possible before you left the apartment.

a part two? maybe?

#jjk x male reader #jjk x reader #jujutsu kaisen x male reader #jujutsu Kaisen x reader #gojo x reader #gojo x male reader #gojo satoru x male reader #gojo satoru x reader #satoru gojo x male reader #satoru gojo x reader

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tommydarlings · 1 year

Text

Mercy | m.v

pairing: mean!dom!max x sub!reader

warnings: smut, chocking, slapping, dacryphilia, spanking, inappropriate usage of a belt, hair pulling, slipknot reference (not an actual warning but i wanted to add it hehe), getting forced to spit cum out, hardcore blowjob

w/c: 2.4K

summary: You were always used to talking back with your bratty mouth and winning the argument in the end, but how is this gonna turn out when you're having an argument with your boyfriend max verstappen? Not very well for you.

song suggestion: mercy by duffy

check this out: my masterlist <3 // my ko-fi to support! <3 // my PayPal to support me! <3 // my Patreon to become a member! (get access to +25 works) <3 // Save a Life carrd made by me! <3

Max is a very impatient person that tends to get angry very easily — everybody knows that, and that’s the exact reason why nobody dares themselves to talk back to the young Dutch driver.

Everybody expect for you.

Growing up with 3 older brothers that sometimes loved to pick on you a bit for fun, taught you quite a lot. You were never able to shut your mouth, you always had to open it and say exactly what you were thinking.

Most of the time it helped you since some people understood the message and left you alone… but some peop-, men… weren’t a fan of your big mouth, like your boyfriend max for an example.

Your boyfriend was only used to people carefully and innocently listening to him, not actually opening their mouth and talking back to the young kart racing talent.

Especially since you were the most innocent and oblivious women he ever met, at least that’s what he taught after the first date the two of you had.

But oh was mad max wrong.

“Shut the fuck up, y/n! I asked you nicely to leave me alone for now, is that so fucking-”

“Do not talk like that to me! Don’t you ever think that you can talk in that tone to me just because you're a man, you-”

And as you should have probably guessed, max hated the fact that you’ve interrupted his sentence and talked back to him.

So he narrowed his eyes at your standing figure before he quickly took long strides over to you and grabbed you by the neck, mercilessly slamming your body against the wall in his driver's room, making you yelp.

For a few seconds he just stared down at your visibly nervous figure, you didn't say anything as well, just looking him deep in the eyes, desperately trying to show him that you do not care.

“Don’t you ever even think about raising your voice like that at me again.” Voice quiet but very stern and strict, “I do not think that I can raise my voice at you just because I am a man, y/n.” Thumb pressing harder into the side of your throat, “But I do think that I can raise my voice at you and speak to you however I want because I know that you would be nothing without me.” He told you harshly.

Then, he raised his other hand to unbutton your navy blue blouse but you didn’t back down, you never back down �� so you were the one now to raise your hand and slapped his hand away from your chest area but max hated the fact that you just weren’t able to obey him and be putty in his palms.

He didn’t even say anything, or change his facial expressions, he just quickly threw your trashing hand away and raised his own hand to slap your across the face, eyes not leaving your chest area as he raised his hand again to pursue a second attempt at opening your blouse that’s obviously supposed to represent redbull.

You briefly licked your lips before a grin covered your lips, then you swallowed a tiny amount of fear that build itself up in your throat down and pursued your second attempt at showing him that your not gonna listen to him that easily.

You raised your right hand again and tried to push his big hand away once again, this time you tried to act a little quicker since he almost completely unbuttoned the thin piece of clothing already.

But this time he did look at you. After he pushed your hand away, squeezed your throat harder and slapped you so rough that your head automatically turned itself to the other side, immediately shooting tears into your eyes. You pathetically whined at the impact since it was way harder this time, making him look at you after he unbuttoned the last tiny button.

“If you can’t listen to me, then you have to feel the consequences and believe me, baby,” changing his posture a bit so he stood straighter infront of you, “the consequences that I'm gonna give you are really painful.” he muttered deeply as he quickly removed your blouse, throwing it away before he let go of your throat, making you gasp.

Even though your vision was quite blurry since the slap still hurt like a bitch, you were able to see how max walked backwards and plopped down onto the small, comfy couch in his driver's room.

“Take your clothes off, slowly.” He demanded as he put his arms on top of the armrests and spread his legs, manspreading in front of your still clothed figure as your bottom lip trembled while the tears didn’t stop.

But you only shook your head as you kept your gaze on him, making him throw his back and release a deep and short chuckle.

“You just don’t. want. to. give. up, do you?” Voice harsh and clear but you didn’t care, you just crossed your arms over your chest and repeated your action, shaking your head again.

He briefly sighed before he removed his arms from the armrests and put them on his thighs before he frowned and mumbled under his breath,

“Didn’t even know that I was dating a bitch that needs to be taught some respect and discipline towards her own boyfriend.” He said before he stood up and made his over to his little locker, quickly opening it to obviously look for something specific.

Tears dripped down your red cheeks as he carelessly got a hold of his black, leather belt that he wore today as he arrived at the paddock with his blue jeans and navy blue t-shirt.

If you would think that this is some kind of joke just to make you even more nervous than you already are, you would even laugh but you knew that max was not joking, max was never joking when it came to punishing you for being a brat. If he says that he’s gonna punish you in that and that way, then he’s gonna punish you in that and that way, no doubts.

Without muttering a single word, max sat himself down again, spreading his legs again and motioning your body towards his sitting one with his pointer finger, other hand still holding his belt.

He knew that if you are willing to obey to him, that he doesn’t even need to say anything, you’ll do anything for him without him having to say anything.

And of course, you haven’t made your way over to the visibly angry man sitting on the probably pretty expensive couch in front of you, your ego was way to big for that.

You quickly wiped some of the tears away, briefly sniffing before you stood up straighter and glanced down at the dutch man,

“No?” He asked you, tilting his head to the side before he sighed in a loud tone, rolling his eyes at your childish and bratty behaviour.

“Like I’ve said, little one, who doesn’t want to listen, has to feel.” Max said in a rather calm tone before he stood up, grabbed your upper in a very tight and quite painful way and sat himself down again, throwing you in the process over his thighs.

You loudly complained, trashing with your arms and legs around but secretly you didn’t even wanted to leave his place to be honest, you just couldn’t disappoint your own ego.

“Stay still.” He harshly spat at your trashing figure before he unexpectedly raised his hand and spanked your almost bare ass — great choice to wear a skirt by the way — with his leather belt, immediately making all your limbs stop trashing and gasp in a high pitched tone as tears shot in your eyes, making you grab his racing suit.

He briefly chuckled as he noticed how much you’ve regret doing everything you’ve done earlier, “Oh now we're regretting it? After I’ve told you multiple times already in the past that, that bratty behaviour isn’t gonna get you anywhere in life, especially not when you're with me?” Spanking your poor ass another three times as he went on,

“And your always gonna be mine.” Spank. “You’ll never leave me, “ Spank. “Believe me, I’ll make sure of that.” Spank. He chuckled in a mean way before he swiftly removed your white thong, quickly putting it in front of your face.

“That’s your chance to show me that you are able to listen to me and that I’ve taught you well in the past.” Quickly giving you another hard and loud spank with the long piece of clothing before he continued, “Open. Your. Mouth.” He demanded while his belt glided along your red ass cheeks.

But after a few seconds of watching you removing your gaze from his hand that’s in front of your face and putting your eyes onto your fingers that are currently squeezing his racing suit since the spankings with the leather material really hurt, he got his answer.

“Alright,” he muttered under his breath, “If that’s how you want this to go, then so it’ll be, you little bitch,” your boyfriend spat in a raspy tone before he threw your panties away and grabbed your throat, swiftly pulling your head upwards.

His nose glided along the top of your head as he spoke up, “you better not forget that I gave you a choice and you fucked it up.” Spanking your ass with his leather belt again, “So everything that’s gonna happen in the next hour is not. my. fault,” he told you angrily before he spanked you again, making you gasp and cry out as tears covered your vision.

“H-Hour?” You nervously asked him, you’ve never before had sex for an hour, especially not sex that… rough and painful. But you loved it and he’s knows that.

You heard him chuckle as he wiped one of your tears with his thumb away, “Oh you think I’m gonna spank that pretty ass of yours for a few times, edge you 2 or 3 times, slap that little face of yours and then let you go?, no, that’s not how it works, y/n, baby.”

You gulped, “h-how does it w-work, then?”

He slowly retreated his hand around your throat, dropping your head, before he put his big palm on the top of your head and pushed your wet face in the soft material of the couch.

“You’ll see,” he mumbled in a hush tone, Dutch accent covering his voice before spanked your with his belt another five times, making you jolt every single time the hard leather touched your hot skin.

“P-Please!,” you begged in a quiet tone, voice already quite hoarse, “Please, m-max-”

“What? Please what, y/n… say it, c'mon,” he demanded as his hand didn’t stop spanking your poor ass with his belt, other hand still forcing your face down into the couch.

You sniffled before you spoke up again, “Please m-make it s-stop, maxie.”

He chuckled at the pretty nickname you’ve been calling since the two of you are dating, “Do not call me maxie now, y/n,” he said, spanking your ass with the hard leather one last time before he picked your by your hair up, making you gasp.

After wiping some of your tears way — smudging your mascara and also slightly your lipstick in the process — max quickly put his belt around your wrists, tightened it around your delicate skin before he finally looked you in the eyes.

“Get on your knees,” max demanded in a quiet tone.

Since you knew that you’ve already fucked up, you’ve actually obeyed this time and removed your trembling body from his lap and got on your knees in front of the dutch man, closely watching him as he opened his racing suit and freed his very visible erection, tip already leaking with pre-cum.

You licked your lips at the beautiful sight in front of you. You’ve raised your hands to touch him and make him feel good but the black belt around your wrists didn’t allow that, making you gulp as his big hand grabbed your hair, lifting your head again.

“Stop whining, you are the only one that’s responsible for all of that,” max told you harshly, putting a few loose strands of hair out of your wet and heated face, “C’mere,” he mumbled quietly before he forced your mouth towards his dick.

“F-Fucking shit,” he growled as your mouth went around his dick, forcing his dick down your throat until you gagged, “that’s exactly what your mouth's good for and nothing else you hear me?” Throwing his head back as he noticed how tears glided down your cheeks again and how gagging and sloppy sounds filled the air, making him moan.

You choked on his length, obviously showing him that you want to go a tiny bit slower since the pain of his spanking with his belt still hurt like a bitch, but max didn’t care.

He put your hair in a messy and careless makeshift ponytail before he forced your mouth even further down onto his cock, so far that the tip of your nose was already touching his pelvis, making you squeeze your eyes shut as tears already fell onto his thighs.

“Just like that, baby,” the Dutch driver whined in a deep tone, groaning before he went on, “That’s w-what you get for talking b-back to me, fucking h-hell.” Throwing his back and slightly arching his back as soon as he came into your mouth, hand now slowly leaving your head, dropping your hair again.

Max quickly calmed himself down before he looked down at you,

“Open,“ nodding his chin in your direction before you obeyed and opened your mouth.

You don’t have a lot of sexual kinks, but if there’s one thing that you absolutely love then it’s swallowed his cum, it’s basically some kind of prove for you — the prove that you are the only one that can make him cum that quick and like that.

He briefly bit his and smiled as he saw the amount of cum on your tongue, but after staring at it for a couple of seconds he didn’t order you to swallow it, no — he grabbed the back of your neck and swiftly lifted himself up, dragging you with him as he made his way over to the small sink in the corner of his driver's room.

You gasped as he pressed your shaking body against the hard, white sink, brows furrowing at his action, not understanding what he wants from you.

“Spit. It. Out,” Max demanded from you as he put his other hand on your chin, leaning your head forward while his other hand still held your back in place. Your eyes widened before you let his cum drip it’s way down your tongue that was covered in it, making your boyfriend chuckle.

“Good girl.”

#fanfic #fanfiction #max verstappen x you #max verstappen ff #max verstappen #max verstappen one shot #max verstappen x reader #max verstappen imagine #max verstappen smut #max verstappen fanfic #max verstappen redbull #rbr #red bull racing #f1 #smut

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loudstan · 2 years

Text

Too Young

(Sequel to Presenting)

Summary: You thought avoiding Jisung after what happened during his first rut would make the problem go away (SPOILER ALERT: it didn't.)

Pairing: Werewolf! Jisung x Witch! Female reader

Warnings: smut, some angst, reader is slightly older and ridiculously stubborn, me simping for best friend! Jaehyun

That was probably the fifth time Jisung tried to call you today. And you still didn’t have the guts to pick up, glaring at your phone on the desk until the call was lost and the screen went off. You sighed in relief, but it didn’t last long; a soft buzz and a notification popping up catching your attention.

Jaehyun: Heey…

Not a minute later another message came.

Jaehyun: What r u doin this weekend?

You opened the message absentmindedly and replied.

‘I’m busy’

Jaehyun: oh ok

Jaehyun: no big deal

You should have finished the conversation there instead of asking…

‘why what’s up?

Jaehyun: nah its okay if youre busy

And now you felt like shit. Jaehyun had been an amazing friend to you for years and you had just lied to him because you were too embarrassed to face him and the rest of his pack after what had happened with Jisung.

‘No, Jae´

‘What do you need?’

´Tell me´

You bit your lip and waited but his answer never came, and being a huge overthinker, you found yourself dialing his number. He picked up after a few seconds.

“Hello?” You hadn’t heard his voice in a while. It caught you by surprise.

“H-hey!” you croaked, your own voice hoarse due to the lack of use. When was the last time you had actually talked out loud?

“Hey, you!” you could hear his smile even if you couldn’t see it, and it was contagious. “How have you been? It’s been a while…”

“I’m good,” you lied. “Just busy…and you?”

“I’m alright…” he said but he didn’t sound too great. There was a hint of tiredness in his voice, and maybe worry? You knew each other so well you just knew he wasn’t okay.

“Jae… what’s going on?” you asked.

“I don’t know. You tell me,” he breathed out. “What’s going on?”

“...What do you mean?” you murmured, but you had an idea of where this was going.

“Well, you stopped showing up for movie nights like a month ago,” he started what felt like would be a long list of complaints. “Then Jisung disappeared for a couple of days, which he apparently spent with you, and when he came back he was a fully presented alpha-”

“Fuck…,” you sighed, because this was going exactly where you thought it would.

“And he looked so happy,” Jaehyun continued. You heard a can being opened and him gulping down a couple of sips of whatever liquid was inside that can. “Calm and collected, like he had suddenly figured out his entire life. He even smirked at me like he was mocking me, so I assumed… I thought that you two- you know…”

“I’m sorry, Jae…,” you finally said.

“Why?” he asked after a few seconds waiting for you to continue. “Why are you sorry?”

“I shouldn’t-fuck,” you sighed, frustrated. “I shouldn’t have done that.”

You heard Jaehyun take a few more sips of his drink on the other side of the line.

“...So, you two-?”

“Yeah,” you admitted. “We spent his first rut together. I’m sorry.”

“Again, why are you sorry?!” he raised his voice only slightly, and then as if he could see you flinching, he lowered his tone again in a calming manner. “What’s there to be sorry for?”

When you didn’t reply for what could have been an entire minute, he spoke again. “Let me see you. We can talk properly then.”

“Jae-”

“Y/N, please?” he pleaded. “I haven’t seen you in so long- I miss my best friend…”

“I miss you too…” you said.

“Then let’s hang out. Just the two of us, if you don’t feel comfortable meeting the others yet.” he offered.

You smiled. That seemed reasonable.

“We can do that,” you accepted. “You wanna come over?”

“Mmm… I’ll tell you what,” he countered cheekily. “Since you always complain about me making a mess and not helping you clean up when I show up, let’s get an airbnb for the weekend.”

“Jae.”

“Y/N.”

“That’s such a waste of money,” you deadpanned. “Just come over and help me clean. It won’t kill you to pick up a broom once in a while.”

“Can’t hear you, I’m booking an apartment,” he declared.

“Jaehyun!”

“Booked!”

You gasped and then groaned. “What the fuck, Jaehyun?”

“Stop whining and have a movie weekend with me. You owe me for leaving me abandoned in this cruel house full of men,” he reproached. “I’m bored, and I miss you, so I’ll see you at 8PM.”

And he hung up just like that. Leaving you wide eyed and with less than an hour to get ready and go to the address he sent you. Quickly, you took a shower, without even bothering to dry your hair and wore the most comfortable pair of shorts and hoodie you found, grabbing some extra clothes and putting them in your backpack before getting going. The airbnb wasn’t too far from your place, and you mentally thanked Jaehyun for being considerate, but all gratitude was gone when he opened the place and greeted you impolitely.

“You look like shit,” typical Jaehyun.

“Fuck off,” you said, walking past him to get in the cozy apartment he had unnecessarily rented. You probably did look like shit, to be fair; dark circles under your eyes, your skin looking dull and your wet hair sticking to your forehead and neck, you probably weren’t looking your best. But he didn’t have to say it like that.

You had barely stepped into the living room when you felt Jaehyun’s arms wrapping around you from behind, catching you off guard.

“I’m so sorry,” he said before you had the chance to ask why the sudden hug.

“It’s fine, I’m not mad. I know I look like shi-”

“No, not because of that,” he interrupted you and you heard him sigh behind you. “I was the one who told you Jisung had imprinted on you.”

“Jae, what-” you tried to turn around but he hugged you tighter, so you stayed still. You knew how awkward he was when it came to apologizing, so he probably wanted to avoid eye contact until he was done speaking.

“Because of what I said you felt pressured into spending his rut with him,” he continued, his voice barely above a whisper. “It’s my fault that things got awkward-”

“Jaehyun, no,” you stopped before he could spill any more nonsense and grabbed his hands firmly but gently, motioning for him to let go of you before you turned around. “This is not your fault.”

“You’re my best friend,” he said, lowering his eyes in guilt. “And I misread the signs. I thought you had feelings for him-”

“You were right,” you admitted, gently lifting his face. “I feel something for Jisung.”

Jaehyun blinked a few times, then his brows furrowed as he tried to process what you had just said.“Then why are you avoiding him?!”

“It’s…,” you sighed and turned away, walking towards the kitchen. “It’s a lot to take in…”

“...Go on,” he encouraged you as he helped you reach some plates from the upper cabinet and placed them on the counter.

You sighed. “Why don’t we eat first?”

“I’m not hungry,” he argued, but he didn’t sound convincing. He was always hungry, so you just raised a brow and stared at him until he gave in. “Fine, I’m a little bit hungry, but we still have to talk after we eat.Should we order something?”

“What are you in the mood for?” you giggled.

“Uh… pizza? Chicken?” he asked, seemingly deep in thought. “Both?”

You laughed out loud and nodded. “Both it is,” you agreed. “No need to order, though.”

“Wha-?” he looked away from his phone where he was already opening the delivery app and his attention was directed towards a dim light surrounding your hands. In a matter of seconds, the plates in front of you were filled with a variety of delicious-looking food that had Jaehyun stuttering incredulously. “No way! When d-did you…? Wow! I thought you could only materialize liquids!”

“I’ve been practicing,” you said coyly.

Jaehyun immediately grabbed a slice of pizza and shoved it into his mouth,closing his eyes and moaning dramatically. “Marry me, Y/N, I swear-” his offering got interrupted when he choked on the food he was so excited to eat, coughing while you patted his back,

“Don’t be ridiculous, Jaehyun!” you nagged him playfully as he finally calmed down. “You still have to meet your mate, so stop asking random people to marry you.”

“I don’t just ask random people!” he defended himself, before eating another piece of pizza like he wasn’t choking seconds ago. He just didn’t learn. Zero survival instinct. “I asked you! I trust you! You literally made food appear like Jesus-”

“Jesus multiplied food, he didn’t just materialize it,” you were laughing hysterically now.

“You’re even better than Jesus then!” he continued, glad he was making you laugh after so long without seeing each other.

“I’m not gonna marry you, Jaehyun,” you finally said when you were able to control your laugh. “I’m Jisung’s-,” you gasped and quickly covered your mouth when you processed what you had just said.

Jaehyun smiled knowingly. “I can see that,” he said pointing at the mark that your hoodie failed to hide. “Seems like it’s official.”

You blushed and let out a frustrated sigh. “I really fucked up.”

“I still don’t get it, Y/N. You two like each other-more than just like, actually- so why are you acting like this?” he asked you softly.

“I feel-...I feel like I t-took advantage of him, Jaehyun,” you said, staring at the food that was getting cold. “It was his first rut. He couldn’t control himself.”

Jaehyun snorted and you glared at him, wanting to know what was so funny.

“Look, Y/N… with or without rut, I’m sure he loved fucking you- Hold on! Put that down! Hear me out!” he yelped when you grabbed an empty plate and aimed at him threateningly, your expression unamused at his crude choice of words. “Y/N, he’s wanted you since I first introduced you to the others years ago. I know it. All of us know it.”

“How can you be so sure?” you asked slowly, putting the plate down.

“Well, I-... I have seen things.” he said.

“What type of things?

“Remember that shirt you left behind the first time you stayed at my place for the night? The pink one with a small heart on it? I was gonna wash it and give it back to you.”

“I liked that shirt…” you mumbled, slowly picturing the mental image of the forgotten shirt. “But you said you couldn’t find it, that it wasn’t at your place.”

“I lied,” he admitted. Normally he would avoid eye contact in situations like these, but now he was staring right into your eyes, like he wanted- needed- you to listen to him carefully, to understand, to take his words seriously. “Jisung has it.”

You opened your mouth, but no words came out.

“After you left, I asked the pack if they had seen the shirt and I described it in detail, but everyone said they hadn’t seen it. Jisung’s face was red as a tomato, staring at the floor and squirming in his seat..I didn’t think much of it at first, but when I found the shirt under his pillow weeks later…” Jaehyun let out a soft chuckle and shook his head at what he thought was a funny memory. “I knew if he didn’t find it where he left it, he would panic at the thought of someone discovering his secret. I didn’t want to embarrass him so I left the shirt right there and didn’t say anything.”

“Maybe Chenle put my shirt there as a joke,” you argued, but deep down you knew Jisung himself had willingly kept your shirt.

“That’s not all I’ve seen. I see how he looks at you; his pupils dilate while following your every fucking move like he’s on drugs. I’ve seen him smelling your hair when you aren’t paying attention, licking his lips while looking at yours-”

“Jaehyun-”

“I’ve heard things too,” he bit his lips and raised his eyebrows suggestively, hoping you would get it, but you just stared back at him blankly. “I’ve heard him moaning your name late at night more times than I can count.”

“Oh my god, Jaehyun! Shut up!” you hissed, scandalized.

“It’s not like I want to hear, Y/N,” he hissed back, imitating your tone. “Werewolves just happen to have incredibly good hearing. If I heard it, then trust me, the entire pack heard it. He wants you like crazy, Y/N. The rut just gave him the courage to act on it.”

You felt yourself blushing and your heart beating faster at the newfound information. Part of you was happy to know that it hadn’t just been his rut, but that didn’t solve everything.

“He’s too young. It’s just wrong,” you argued exhaustedly.

“...Seriously? That’s what made you run away from the poor guy?” Jaehyun asked incredulously. “His age?”

“He’s not ready to make a lifetime decision like that-”

“No, Y/N. Stop babying him,” Jaehyun wasn’t going to accept that as an argument. “Yeah, he’s a bit younger than you, but so what?! He is an adult! And he presented as an alpha-”

“He just presented-”

“What difference does it make? Whether he presented yesterday, last month, or last year doesn’t change who he is. He is a man, Y/N and he knows what he wants.”

You gulped and cleared your throat awkwardly. Jaehyun normally wasn’t this stubborn; he always let you have it your way and win every argument, but he wasn’t backing down now. You didn’t want to continue this conversation anymore.

“Jaehyun, I came here to see you. I don’t want to fight,” your voice shook slightly as you spoke. “Can we just watch a movie together?”

Jaehyun didn’t want to fight either. And he especially didn’t want to make you cry, he just wanted the best for you and Jisung, but he could tell the conversation wasn’t going anywhere. He would have to find another way to help you.

“Let’s watch Barbie,” he proposed, hoping to make you laugh again. You rolled your eyes and suppressed a smile, which was enough for him. You spent the evening joking, laughing and watching movies, complaining about the characters and the plot holes while cuddling like in the old times. You felt comfortable in your friend’s arms and soon started falling asleep while he caressed your hair. Jaehyun was whispering something, but you were too tired to pay attention.

“Forgive me,” you thought you heard him say before you surrendered to sleep.

When you woke up a couple of hours later, Jaehyun wasn’t next to you; his side of the bed was cold and the TV screen displayed that Netflix message asking if you wanted to continue watching. Everything was in silence.

“Jaehyun?” you called out sleepily.

“He is not here,” that voice did not belong to Jaehyun. You jumped slightly and looked around trying to find the source of that voice, your eyes slowly adapting to the darkness around you.

“J-jisung?!” you breathed out when you finally spotted him sitting on a chair in the corner of the room, his features barely distinguishable under the little rays of moonlight that managed to enter the room.

He just stared back at you tiredly. Like you, he looked like he hadn’t slept well in a while.

“W-where is Jaehyun?How did y-you get in?” you asked nervously.

Jisung’s gaze darkened, his fingertips digged harshly into his knees and he clenched his jaw before reaching for his phone in his pocket and unlocking it. After scrolling down a couple of times, he stood up and walked around the bed, making you squirm cautiously at his behavior. He stopped next to you and showed you the screen of his phone, the light hurting your eyes slightly.

There it was: a message from Jaehyun with the exact address you were in and the code he needed to open the door, followed by the words ‘she is here.’

“W-what…?” you mumbled dumbly, reaching for your own phone and finding a message for you too.

Jaehyun: sorry Y/N but u 2 need to talk

You scoffed incredulously. “Fucking traitor.”

You slammed your phone on the nightstand and sighed, your eyes meeting Jisung’s once again. His unreadable expression made you incredibly nervous.

“W-when did you get here?” You were the first to break the silence.

“An hour ago… or maybe two,” Jisung replied, dark eyes still boring into yours.

“Oh,” you shifted awkwardly on the bed. That meant he had been watching you sleep the entire time. “Why didn’t you wake me up?”

“I didn’t want to scare you,” he mumbled, his fingertips playing with the hem of his hoodie. “I’m not dumb. I know you’re avoiding me. I just wanted to look at you a bit longer and then leave before you woke up,” his voice got smaller as he reached the end of that sentence.

The way he was showing himself in such a vulnerable and hesitant state made all the negative feelings you had been feeling the last couple of weeks come back stronger than ever; guilt, shame, anxiety and fear. Jaehyun was right; you had to at least have the decency to talk to Jisung and solve this issue once and for all.

“Jisung,” you called out, making him flinch slightly. “There’s something I have to tell you-”

“Could you take a shower first?” he suddenly blurted out, like he had been holding it in for a while. “You reek of him,” he quickly explained when you gave him a perplexed look.

Your first instinct was to argue back; to tell him that he had to get over it and that this conversation was more important than his wolf being possessive. But after a moment of thinking, you decided to fulfill his request. You had already done enough damage, and you were about to hurt him even more, so the least you could do was make it a bit more comfortable for him.

“Sure,” you said as you got up from the bed and made your way to the bathroom, grabbing some clothes from your backpack as you walked past him. “See you in a bit.”

He let out a soft ‘ok’ before you closed the bathroom door and leaned against it, your legs shaking slightly. You had forgotten how alluring his voice was, how pretty his eyes were and how soft his lips looked. As you felt hot water run down your skin for the second time that day, part of you wanted to just beg for his forgiveness and kiss him until your lips were swollen, but then again, that little voice in your head told you you shouldn’t and that you had to end things with him. Or at least that was what you intended when you exited the bathroom and joined him in the living room.

“Put this on,” he offered you the hoodie he was wearing earlier as soon as he saw you. Suddenly a cold shiver ran down your spine and you finally noticed that Jisung had opened all the windows- probably in an attempt to get rid of Jaehyun’s scent.

“I’ll just go get my own hoodie,” you replied, but he quickly shook his head.

“No. This one,” he insisted, practically shoving the hoodie into your arms. “Please,” he added when he sensed your hesitation. You sighed, and put it on, again telling yourself it was the least you could do for him.

“Listen, Ji-” you started saying, but as soon as you finished putting the large hoodie on Jisung’s arms were around your waist, bringing you incredibly close to him as he rested his head on your shoulder, nuzzling into the crook of your neck affectionately. An unintentional pang of pleasure clouded your mind when he rubbed the mark on your neck slightly and you couldn’t help the way your body relaxed, baring your neck for him. Jisung hummed appreciatively and gave your neck a long lick that made you whimper before you remembered what you were going to say. “J-jisung-”

“Hmm?” he acknowledged with a kiss on your neck before he got back to scenting you..

“I’m-” you bit your lip and gathered the courage you needed before speaking again. “I’m sorry I’ve been avoiding you.”

He tightened the hold his arms had around you, fingers digging into your flesh. “It’s okay,” he assured you quickly through shaky breaths. “We’re okay.”

“It’s not okay,” you sighed and tried to put some distance between the two of you, but he didn’t budge. “I- I should have done this sooner-”

“I said we’re fine,” he repeated, this time his voice was firm. “We’re together now.”

“But we´re not- we shouldn’t b-be…fuck,” you groaned and took a deep breath. “What happened between us- it was a mistake.”

There. You said it.

The hug you were captive in loosened up and Jisung lifted his head, taking a hesitant step away from you. His brows furrowed in a puzzled expression that soon turned into one of anguish, his glossy eyes telling you that was the last thing he wanted to hear right now. You felt like absolute trash.

“...Why do you say that?” he asked, his voice cracking.

You did your best to ignore the way your chest throbbed at the sight. “It w-was your first rut and I-”

“Fuck,” Jisung turned around and threw his head back, walking a few steps away before he hunkered down on the floor like he was in physicall pain. “FUUUCK!”

You didn’t dare to move nor say anything else. It was the first time you had heard him raise his voice and it reminded you of the severity of the situation you were in. You had fucked up badly.

“Of course!” he said as he slowly stood up, facing you again, his face pure of torment. Heartbroken. “Of course you would never want to do all that with me,” he laughed bitterly.

You clenched your eyes, his words hurting more than you anticipated. “Jisung, I-”

“You just felt sorry for the late presenter who was humping your pillow like a loser,” he spat angrily.

“That’s not true-”

“And here I was thinking I had a chance with you,” he continued rambling,panting heavily. “That you may actually like me back-”

“I do!” you bursted out, finally catching his attention. “I do like you,” you admitted as tears rolled down your face. “I like you s-so much,” you ended your confession with a sob and covered your face with your hands. “I’m so sorry.”

For a whole minute the only noise that could be heard in the living room were your mournful sobs and Jisung’s heavy breathing.

“...You lost me there,” Jisung finally broke the silence. “I don’t get it,” he walked towards you cautiously as you wiped your tears desperately. “If you and I feel the same, then why-... why are you saying it was a mistake?”

“B-because you-,” you tried to compose yourself and speak properly, but your body and heart simply weren’t in the mood to listen to your brain. “You’re too young and-”

“What?!” Jisung asked like you had just said he was a vampire. You tried to hide your face again but he grabbed both your wrists and pulled them to your sides, his eyes looking for yours. “I’m too what?!” he repeated.

“Too young…” you barely whispered, looking away.

“Too young for what?” he spoke through gritted teeth. “To date? To make my fucking choices? To fuck?!” he continued, slowly cornering you against the wall. “Too young for you, noona?”

You inhaled sharply when your back bumped into the wall and he pinned your hands on each side of your head. “J-jisung, we s-shouldn’t-”

“Why?”

“I just don’t w-wanna take a-advantage of yo-” before you could finish that sentence Jisung was kissing you firmly, soft lips moving against yours. Your heartbeat accelerated when he nibbled on your bottom lip softly, as if asking for permission and letting out a frustrated groan when you didn’t let him in. You turned your head to the side and spoke again. “Jisung I can’t-”

“Shut up,” Jisung growled, letting go of your hands to grab your jaw and forcefully make you face him, his other hand sneaking around your waist. “Just shut up. I don’t wanna hear any more nonsense,” he warned you and crashed his lips into yours again, nibbling and licking insistently for you to part your lips. When you refused to give in again, his hand went from your jaw to the back of your head, grabbing your hair and tugging enough to catch you by surprise, using the soft gasp he elicited from you as an opportunity to finally deepen the kiss. He moaned into the kiss and massaged your scalp gently as an apology, and you felt your eyes roll to the back of your skull, finally daring to kiss him back, all will to fight slowly evaporating from your body. When he broke away from the kiss, you caught yourself feeling utterly disappointed.

“Are you done being impossible?” he asked, pecking your lips softly. “Done making things unnecessarily difficult?” the next kiss lasted a bit longer, his hands finding their way to your hips. “Where did you even get that ridiculous idea, hm?” he pressed his hips into yours, immediately reminding you of his size. “You think I’m some innocent kid, is that it?” he challenged, rutting against you firmly. The effect was immediate: you felt yourself melt into a puddle at the touch you had been craving for weeks, letting out a soft moan, much to Jisung’s delight. “Yeah? You missed me?” he chuckled against your lips, pressing himself against you harder and making you whine desperately. “Then you should have picked up your phone, no? Texted me back? Opened the door when I showed up?” He kissed his way from your jaw to your neck, sucking harshly. “All because you felt guilty? Guilty for what? For making my biggest fantasy come true?” he growled against your neck, making you tremble.

“Jisung-,” you gulped when he grabbed your shorts and panties and pulled them down unceremoniously. “S-slow down. Let’s think-”

“Don’t wanna,” he simply said as he finished undressing your lower parts. “I’ve had plenty of time to think. I’ve been thinking about this for years, noona,” he pulled his sweatpants down along with his boxers only enough for his hardened cock to be released, bobbing and hitting his covered lower abdomen. “The more I think of it, the harder I get.”

You could feel yourself drooling at the sight of Jisung slowly jacking off in front of you as he observed you with hooded eyes.

“You want it?” he teased you, his hand circling the tip of his cock and squeezing slightly, hissing. You could only nod dumbly. “But you think it’s wrong, huh?” he quirked his eyebrows and you nodded again. He rolled his eyes and pressed his body close to yours again. “Because I’m too young?” he cooed. Again, you nodded, like it was the only thing you knew how to do. He hummed, not stopping the constant movement of his hand on his dick, while his other hand made its way between your legs, sliding two fingers along your pussy and spreading your wetness to your clit. “Then why are you this wet? Aren’t I too young to make you this wet, noona?”

You closed your eyes, embarrassed. “J-jisung, please…” you begged, without being sure of what you were begging for. He slowly inserted both fingers into your entrance, both your jaw and his falling open; yours due to the stretch and his for the anticipation of being surrounded by you. He moved his fingers carefully inside of you, searching for that one spot he had found last time-

“AH! J-jisung oh g-god!”

Found it. He smirked and stole another kiss from you before quickly massaging that spot in a ´come here´ motion, along with stroking his cock lazily.

“Jisung f-fuck, fuck oh-!” you didn’t know what to hold onto, and ended up pulling at his shirt with trembling hands. Sensing how close you were, he put his own pleasure aside, releasing his own member and using that hand to draw smooth circles on your clit. “JISUNG-” you gasped and threw your head back, surrendering to the intense orgasm Jisung had built up for you. You didn’t know if it was because of the mating mark, but only Jisung could make you feel like this. You worked on controlling your breathing as Jisung retracted his fingers from you gently, and opened your eyes right in time to see him bring his soaked fingers to his mouth, licking them wantonly and moaning in delight. For a second his eyes gleamed a reddish tone that made your blood run cold.

“Don’t worry,” he said as if he knew what you were thinking. “It’s too soon for me to have another rut. Especially when my last one left me so…,” he licked his lips. “...Satisfied.”

“O-oh,” you replied, trying your best to form a coherent sound, but your legs chose that moment to give up on you and your body started sliding down the wall. Luckily, Jisung was fast enough to reach for you and hold you firmly against him.

“What’s wrong?” he asked, his voice showing a hint of nervousness as he tried to look for an answer in your unfocussed eyes.

“Feel weird-” you managed to answer, letting him lift your weak body and guide your legs around his waist, pressing you against the wall once again. When his hot cock rubbed against your sensitive pussy your entire body trembled and you moaned into his chest.

“Noona,” he cupped your face with his palm, holding your weight with one arm like it was nothing. “Weird how? What do you feel?”

You shook your head weakly. You didn’t know how to explain the way your body responded to Jisung, making your limbs weak, your chest warm, and every nerve tingling with pleasure, something in the back of your head telling you to submit to him. Jisung bit his lip before he decided to look for your neck, giving it experimental nuzzles and licks like a puppy trying to comfort its owner. You moaned out loud and bared your neck for him, giving him as much access as he wanted.

“A-alpha,” you moaned, shaking in his arms. Jisung’s eyes lighted up with a hint of red again, and stared at you expectantly. “Make it b-better, alpha-,” you sobbed desperately.

Something in Jisung snapped right in that moment, inhaling sharply and kissing you fiercely, his hips rutting against you roughly and creating a friction that had you gasping into the kiss.

“It’s okay, noona,” he assured you while his hand slid between your bodies to line himself up against your entrance, pressing only slightly in an attempt to make you open up for him without forcing it, although it felt like torture for you. “Alpha will take care of you,” he declared before the head slid in, making both of you moan loudly. “Feels good, yeah? Feel how good alpha fills you up?” he panted when he managed to bury himself completely inside of you.

“S-so good,” you stuttered brainlessly, letting him bounce you on his cock and against the wall.

“Still think this is wrong?” he asked in between kisses. “Still think I’m too young?”

He slowed down his thrust to a stop when you didn’t reply, distancing his upper body from you enough to see your embarrassed face. “You do?!” he asked incredulously. You looked away and he scoffed. “Am I not enough of a man for you? Even after I marked your pretty neck as mine? Even when you can barely take my cock?” he thrusted into you sharply as to emphasize his question. “Get rid of that stupid thought, now,” he ordered you, his eyes showing a red hue again.

“I-I’m trying-,” you hiccupped with difficulty as he fucked you intently. “It’s n-not that e-easy-”

“Let me help you,” he hissed and just like that you suddenly didn’t feel the wall against your back anymore. You shrieked and hugged Jisung more tightly out of fear of falling on the floor now that you didn’t have the wall as support. Jisung walked a few steps back, with you clinging onto him like a koala, before he grabbed your waist with both hands. “Let me show you how much of a man I can be.”

Before you could complain about the possibility of you being too heavy for this, or him losing balance, or all the ways this could end up badly, he silenced you by lifting you up and slamming you down back into his cock with ease, reaching deep enough to make you choke on your saliva.

“Could someone who is too young do this?” He snickered and kissed your neck before he started moving you up and down his cock with ease, as the muscles in his forearms tightened and his veins popped up attractively. You didn’t even know strength could turn you on like this, but when Jisung used you like you were nothing but a fleshlight you felt another orgasm approaching you fast. “Tell me, noona,” he hissed. “Am I n-not a man to you?” he fought the need to roll his eyes back in pleasure to see your wrecked face.

“Al- alpha,” you tried to reply as you felt your orgasm so close you could barely speak. “Y-you a-...you’re a m-man fuck, alpha, alph-AH!” you sobbed as your vision went blank and your walls clamped around him, making him moan and tremble, hugging you tightly against his chest, where you could feel his heart beating through the material of his shirt.

“Say it again,” he demanded, his hard cock still inside of you contrasting the romantic nature of the way he was hugging you.

“Y-you’re a man,” you admitted, feeling weak after the mindblowing orgasm.

“Say you’re mine,” he spoke again.

“I’m…,” you sighed as he kissed your mark softly. “I’m yours, alpha.”

“Now tell everyone,” he ordered, catching you off guard. Who was he talking about? Did he mean telling the other members of his pack? Telling your friends? Introducing him to your parents? As you were trying to understand what he meant, he started walking towards the balcony, walking past the window and standing there in the cold night, where all the neighbors could see you. “Now.”

“J-jisung, what are you doing?” you slapped his chest weakly until he put you down. You were glad his hoodie covered you past your thighs and he was fully dressed- except for his cock on full display- and tried to hurry him back inside before someone saw you both, but Jisung quickly grabbed your hips and turned you around against the balcony railing, pressing his body against you. “Jisung, n-not here!”

“I want the world to see,” he murmured like he was in a trance. “I want them to hear how good you are for alpha,” he purred, lifting the back of your hoodie just enough for his cock to rub against your ass.

He was crazy. There was no way you were going to do that. Or so you thought, but the moment he slid himself back into you with a shameless moan, all caution was forgotten, and you could only think about how good he was stretching you and how sweet he sounded moaning against your ear.

“Noona,” he moaned into your neck, his hips speeding up to a constant rhythm. “Say it again,” he pleaded, his hands feeling you up like a madman, wanting to memorize every curve. “Say you’re mine.”

“I’m y-yours,” you whimpered, your fist tightening around the railing and enjoying the way his cock twitched inside of you at the words. “I’m yours, Jisung, p-please I’m- oh! Oh god, Ji I’m yours, I’m yours I-” you moaned when he cursed and his hips stuttered.

“I love you, n-noona,” he sobbed, digging his fingers into your hips to keep you in place to take his unruly thrusts. “I love you, I love y-you so much so, so much ah! Ah, fuck, ah!” he panted heavily as the base of his cock started inflating into what soon would be a huge knot. “D-don’t try to run away from me a-again, noona,” he pleaded? Warned? “I won’t let you. You’re n-not going anywhere-fuck! This pretty pussy’s all mine,” definitely a warning. “I’ll fuck you so good, noona, hhm? Breed you every day, keep you so f-full you w-won’t have any more stupid ideas in that pretty head of yours, y-yeah?”

You moaned so loud you knew someone out there had surely heard. But you couldn’t care anymore; the only thing in your mind were Jisung’s filthy promises and the stretch of the knot he insistently tried to push into you were making you delirious. “Y…yeah- oh fuh- ugh fuck yes, a-alpha!” your slurred words were barely understandable, too cock drunk to express yourself properly. “Fuck me s-soh aaah! so g-good- wanna… want you inside of me all d-day.”

That’s what did it for Jisung. He rammed into you harshly, his knot finally inside of you as his cock jerked, continuous gushing of cum making you feel full enough for a small bump to form in your belly.

“You’re squeezing me s-so good, noona.” Jisung panted deliriously while licking your neck. “Taking all my cum, yeah? Milk me up some more, hmm?” he asked, one of his hands finding your clit and rubbing it quickly as you moaned and squirmed against him. “Yeess, noona, just like t-that, come on, cum for me, cum for alpha-” he demanded, relishing in the way your walls contracted round him.

“A-alpha!” you whimpered when your third orgasm of the night hit you, shaking uncontrollably as Jisung released another spurt of cum inside of you. “love y-you, alpha…” you croaked out weakly. Jisung purred a chant of ‘love you too, love you so much, noona,’ as he gave the mating mark one last kiss and slid out of you when his knot shrunk enough to allow it, cum immediately sliding out and down your thighs as Jisung carried you back inside the apartment.

Jisung laid you down on the sofa and disappeared into the bathroom, coming back right after with a wet towel that he used to carefully clean you up, gently apologizing whenever you would flinch in oversensitivity.

“You came a lot…,” you commented absentmindedly.

“Oh that’s probably because- uh, I haven’t come since the last time I saw you,” he confessed, shrugging.

“What?” you yelped. “That was like three weeks ago! Why didn’t you uh–... you know,” you ended vaguely by making a crude gesture with your hand that had him laughing out loud.

“I tried,” he explained when his laugh calmed down. “I would start jerking off, but my hand didn’t feel as good as yours, and it wasn’t as soft and warm as…,” he eyed you up hungrily. “...As all of you. So I would get frustrated and give up.”

“That sounds like torture,” you say.

“It was,” he admitted. “But I feel much better now.”

You hummed and then you both fell into a comfortable silence.

“Are we-” Jisung bit his lip nervously, going back to his reserved persona like he hadn’t just fucked you out in the open. “Are we okay now?”

“Yeah,” you replied tiredly. “More than okay.”

“...Will you give us a chance, then?” he asked hopefully.

"Will I get my shirt back if I do?" you asked cheekily. "The pink one, with a heart on it," you added when Jisung gave you a puzzled look. Then you saw his eyes widen and his face blush a record shade of red.

"Who told you?!"

"Jaehyun."

Jisung groaned dramatically. "Look, noona. I'm not a creep. It just smelled so good-Fuck! That's what a creep would say-" he tried to defend himself desperately.

"Jisung," you called for him, giving him a tender kiss. "What do you need the shirt for if you can have me anytime you want."

His eye color matched the blush on his face at your words as he licked his lip tentatively. "Anytime I want?"

You nodded and kissed him again, feeling him smile into the kiss.

Then a thought crossed your mind and you broke to kiss, gasping in realization.

“We’re gonna get a noise complaint. Or a complaint for public indecency. We’ll get banned from using airbnb.”

“Under whose name is the reservation?” Jisung asked

“Jaehyun’s.”

“Then I honestly don't care,” he said nonchalantly as he leaned in to kiss you again.

#nct smut #nct imagines #nct scenarios #nct drabbles #nct dream smut #park jisung x reader #park jisung smut #jisung smut

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lovemyavatar · 2 years

Text

Brat

Lo'ak x Fem!Omatikaya!Reader

Summary: Lo'ak is a brat tamer, what can I say?

Warnings: indulgent (aged up) nsfw, filth, p in v, oral, subby reader, mean dom Lo'ak

“Come on, Y/N. Do it right so I can go home.”

A frustrated huff fills tense silence. Your right arm pulls back, muscles taunt, one eye sliding closed to help aim your bow. A slow breath is drawn through pursed lips before you release, the arrow slamming into a tree nowhere near the target.

With an angry grunt, you turn on him, fingers clutching the weapon tightly at your side. “I would’ve gotten it by now, if I had a better teacher.”

“You would’ve gotten it if you knew how to listen.” He’s quick to retort, strong arms crossing over a broad chest.

Your lips pull into an irritated frown. Without responding, you nock another arrow and resume your practiced stance. Again, this one fails to land within the hastily painted circle.

“Oh my Eywa.” He draws out the Great Mother’s name, head lifting toward the sky. His eyes pinch tightly as he tries to contain his rising anger.

“Don’t be so mean, Lo’ak.” You’ve had enough of his attitude, hand raising to shove against his shoulder. He stumbles back a step, having been distracted by his own tantrum, and looks to you with surprise. “This is why you don’t have any friends.”

Without hesitation, he shoves you right back, though he makes sure the motion has no strength behind it. “Don’t push me.”

“Don’t push me.” All four fingertips poke into his chest, and this time he doesn’t budge an inch.

“You know what? We’re done.” He throws his hands up in exasperation, turns, and walks away.

“Wait!” You’re quick to chase after him, hand clamping around his elbow. “If I don’t get this my parents will kill me.”

“Not my problem.” He shakes you off, throwing the words over his shoulder without stopping.

“Lo’ak!” He doesn’t miss a step, toned back retreating steadily. You come to a stop with a huff, knowing you’ll need to stoop low to make him listen. “I’ll tell your dad!”

He comes to a halt begrudgingly, trusting that you would do it. His jaw grinds, hands tightening into fists at his sides. The toned muscles of his back and shoulders visibly tense. You always seem to find a way to get exactly what you want. It's so infuriating.

He turns, stalking toward you with a hard glare. Your eyes widen at his menacing demeanor, leaning back slightly as he grows near. He all but rips the bow from your hand, leaning over you to leer in your face. Bright yellow eyes bore into yours, shining with anger and something else. Something darker, hotter.

“You’re such a brat, you know that?” His voice is low, hoarse as he spits the insult.

Your stomach dips, fluttering before the space between your legs warms. You shift on your feet, rubbing your thighs together to quench the ache. He’s quick to straighten back to his full height and push past you, shoulder knocking yours along the way. You’re momentarily stunned, gulping down the anxiety suddenly bubbling in your throat.

“No, that’s not right.” Lo'ak shakes his head, arms crossed tightly.

You've been at this for another hour, arms shaking with the effort of holding the weapon you can't seem to master. Your trembling stance releases, back bowing to relieve some of the painful tension.

“You know, maybe I would learn something if you actually showed me how to do it.” Your eyes sweep to the sky, a frustrated huff leaving your lips.

“Did you really just roll your eyes at me?” His voice drops to a gravely rumble as he takes a step toward you, closing the distance to only a few inches.

What's left of his patience is wearing thin. If it were up to him, he'd be anywhere but here. His father ordered him to train you, to teach you the ways of the bow. You're too slow, quick to give up, always holding the hunting parties back. Impossible to teach, even for someone like him who obtained the skill at an early age.

It isn't that he doesn't like you. He's known you since they two of you were young, totting around the forest with his siblings and causing trouble. You've always been there, a playmate throughout the years. Your relationship is mostly positive, aside from in these private moments. It's like you get a kick out of worming your way under his skin.

Your good girl persona is reserved for others, this part of you—the snarky comments and lingering glances—that's only for him. It sparks something within him, a desire to put you in your place. To remind you who's really in charge.

Your eyes flick up to his, wide innocence meeting narrowed heat. You blink up at him, and he seethes. He knows it's fake, knows you're trying to get a rise out of him, but he can't help but give it to you.

With a growl, large hands clamp down on your hips. You let out a startled gasp when he roughly turns you to the side, so that your chest is nearly flush with his. He grips your biceps and jerks your arms into the proper position. You watch his expression, pliant under his direction. Pinched brows, downturned lips, a determined focus behind yellow eyes. Yep, he's pissed.

“Now, do it right.” He steps back, satisfied with the position he's put you in.

Your heart races, slamming against your ribs harshly. He raises a brow expectantly, and your attention shifts toward the target. After a calming breath, you release the bow.

It hits dead center.

“Ha!” Excitement explodes in your chest as you jump up and down, lips splitting into a wide grin.

You look to him, catching the way the corner of his lips twitches before he covers the movement with a swipe of his hand.

“Good girl.” The words slip out before he can stop them. His eyes catch yours, seeing the surprise flicker behind glittering yellow before he quickly glances away.

He clears his throat and turns to retrieve the arrow. You swallow down quickly rising desire, stomach flipping. You desperately try to even out ragged breaths in the few seconds his back is turned. As he faces the tree, his eyes pinch tightly in silent reprimand. He fights to soothe his racing heart, ripping the arrow from the thick bark and turning to stalk back to you.

“Let's see if you can do it again.” He hands you the arrow, stepping back with crossed arms. Gone is the heat behind his stare, the cold, distracted gloss returning to his gaze.

You force a calming breath through tight lips, straightening your back and lifting sore arms into position.

“No, that's not how I showed you.” Lo'ak barks, voice rough with a disappointed shake of his head.

Your arms drop, head tilting in defiance as you turn to face him, hip popped with irritation. “Maybe you didn't show me well enough.”

“Lose the attitude, Y/N.” He commands, the gruff timbre of his voice sending a shockwave of heat through you, straight to your core.

Shoulders round in opposition, a twinge of anger rising at being told what to do, despite the way your body responded. "Or what?”

His teeth grind, chin dropping to pierce you with a heavy lidded glare. He takes the few steps necessary to close the distance between you, only a few inches separating his heaving chest and yours.

“You need to learn some fucking manners.” He peers down at you, restraint tightening his chest as fists clench at his sides to prevent himself from touching you.

“I've heard no other complaints.” You huff, gaze sweeping toward the sky. "Only from you—”

A deep growl permeates the small space. One of his hands jerks up, long fingers circling your arm with a gentle firmness.

“I thought I told you not to roll your eyes at me, 'evenge (girl).” He towers over you, hard stare slicing straight to your core. It clenches under the heat of his undivided attention, and you squirm in his hold.

“You didn't tell me not to, you asked if I did.” You know you sound like a petulant child, but you can't help but talk back, his domineering stance bringing out a defiance within you.

“You're just begging to be taught a lesson, aren't you?” He seethes, every last bit of strength he has used to contain himself from pouncing on you.

A humorless laugh fans his tight expression. “I don't know, you haven't been the best teacher so far.”

In an instant he lurches forward, free hand moving to grip your throat. Your eyes pop wide, gasp falling from parted lips. He jerks you toward him, molten gaze flicking over your face. A moment of tension passes, ragged breath echoing through the forest before he claims your lips with his.

You instantly press into him, heaving chests flush. His head tilts, tongue forcing it's way into your mouth as his hold on you tightens. A trembling moan flutters into his waiting mouth, and he groans. His hand slips from your arm, moving to circle your back. He hoists you up without warning, your legs instinctively wrapping around his hips for support.

“Gonna fuck some manners into you, sevin (pretty). How does that sound, hmm?” He mutters against your throat, peppering your skin with sloppy kisses.

Your head falls back, overcome with desire as it swells in your lower belly, heat so intense you fear you may explode if he doesn't quench it soon.

“Answer me when I ask you a question, yawntu (love).” Fangs nip at your shoulder, and you tremble.

“Yes!” You're breathless, pliant in his hold, all disobedience gone.

“Yes, sir.” He grunts when you roll your hips, core sliding along his painfully hard cock.

A whimper falls from your lips, the rough authority in his voice nestling between your legs. “Yes, sir.”

“That's a good girl.” He claims your lips again, chest heaving under the pressure of restraint, of the effort not to take you right here.

Your arms wrap around his neck, holding him tightly to you as he walks forward, weaving through the trees to find a suitable location to make you his. He lays you in the first clearing he finds, thoughts too muddled to care if it's secluded enough.

Your back bows as he rips your top off, head dipping to take a nipple into his mouth. His tongue laps at the sensitive bud, and you whimper, core clenching with emptiness. He shivers at the tender sweep of your fingers along his sides. They slide down, and around, moving toward his straining cock.

They pass over the front of his loincloth and he jolts at the burst of pleasure. Your lips twitch into a little smirk, hands moving to cup him through the thin material.

“Fuck—no.” In an instant he has your hands pinned above your head with one of his.

You squirm under him, but his hold is firm. “Let me touch you, Lo'ak.”

“You're gonna listen." His piercing gaze briefly flicks up to yours before he moves to catch your other nipple between sharp teeth. “Or you won't get what you want.”

You whimper pathetically, head pressing into soft grass. He litters your chest and stomach with sloppy kisses, sucking a few bruises into your skin as he releases your arms and continues moving down.

“Lo'ak!” You cry out at an unexpected lick against your sex. Your head lifts, eyes meeting a heavy lidded gaze as he laps at your pussy again. You fall back, overcome with pleasure.

“You like that, baby?” He hums against you, fingers moving to part your pussy lips. A tentative lick swipes over your clit, your hips jerking up at the sensation.

“Oh, Eywa.” A hand presses to your chest in an effort to soothe it's ragged tremor.

“Use your words, sweetheart. Or I stop.” He pulls back to accent the warning.

A long finger prods at your entrance before sliding inside you swiftly, bottoming out with one quick thrust. Breath catches in your throat for a moment before you force it to reach your lungs.

“Yes!” You wail as he adds another finger before ripping them both out quickly. You clench around the emptiness, stomach tightening.

“What did I tell you to call me?” A firm slap comes down over your pussy, jolting your trembling hips. The pleasurable sting makes your walls flutter again.

“Yes, sir!” You're a whiny mess already, another broken moan falling past your lips when he shoves his fingers back inside you with no warning.

His eyes never leave you as his tongue sweeps over your clit, fingers picking up a steady rhythm. His heart is thrumming wildly, the sight of you at his mercy almost enough to make him cum untouched. His cock throbs beneath his loincloth, but he wants to take care of you first.

When you tighten around his fingers he picks up the pace, tongue drawing a bruising pattern along your clit. Your back arches from the earth, breath stilling, and he knows you're close. After another deep thrust, he pulls his fingers and mouth away, watching you pulse and clench around nothing.

You whimper, brows pinching in confusion. You were right there. Your pussy warms against the abrupt stop, at being left on the edge of your orgasm. Your lips part in protest, but he's quick to tower over you, supporting his weight with one hand and ripping his loincloth off with the other.

“The only way you're cumming is on my cock. Do you understand?” The command is a gruff rasp as he loses the last shred of control.

You nod feverishly. “Yes, yes sir, please!”

He grips the base of his shaft and in one swift motion enters you, bottoming out instantly. His head dips, eyes closing tightly, forehead resting on your shoulder for support at the feeling of your walls fluttering around him.

Your legs circle him, hips rutting against his to encourage him to move. He growls as he's forced even deeper.

“Lo'ak!” You bark when he refuses to move, needing a few seconds to adjust so he doesn't cum after one thrust.

He raises his head, thumb moving up to drag along your lower lip, his own pulling into a frown at your attitude. “Do I need to stuff this pretty mouth to keep it quiet? Huh?”

His thumb forces it's way between your lips at the same moment his hips pull back before slamming into you. Your head tilts back, moan ripping from your throat, tongue circling the digit as you would his cock. He lets out a shuddering breath, stomach tightening with the effort of holding off his orgasm.

You're right there, already so worked up from his earlier ministrations. Moisture wells in your eyes, pleasure spiking more intense than you've ever felt it.

“You wanna cum, baby?” He grunts, his cock rutting into you so forcefully your back slides against the grass.

Your head bobs quickly, breath hitching when he rams into your womb.

“Use your words, honey.” He rasps, pace increasing with his own impending orgasm. “Ask for it.”

“Oh, Lo'ak—sir! Can I cum? Please!” You sob, tears sliding down your cheeks from the pleasure mounting in your core.

“Fuck! Cum for me, baby girl. Cum all over my cock.” He pounds into you, and you do just that, pussy clenching around him so tightly he has to slow down.

You gush around him, juices flowing between staggering hips. He rips his cock from your trembling pussy, spilling his cum over your stomach, hips jerking against nothing as his orgasm rips through him. His fists press into the earth beside your head, ragged breaths fanning your face. He lets out a quiet whimper as he settles, spent from the effort.

As the weight of what the two of you have just done gathers, you can't help but giggle at the absurdity of it. His eyes flick down to yours, narrowing into a hard glare.

“I guess you aren't such a bad teacher after all.” You tease, and he wastes no time in gripping your hips, turning so you're perched on top of him, ready to show you who's boss as many times as he needs to.

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tempe-brennans · 9 months

Text

and i'd come back if you'd just call

author's note: soulmate au + apocalypse

summary: you show up in jackson and turn joel's life upside down

warnings: implied smut and handsy touching

word count: 2.7k

There’s gray in his hair. He’s sure he should feel grateful for that–especially now–and some part of him does, he supposes.

He has people.

There’s Ellie and Tommy and Maria. You.

He’s not sure exactly what to do about you.

Besides, he’s more concerned about the ache in his back and the knots in his muscles–much more important problems than the love he’s beginning to think he still feels for you or the sunflower burning on his wrist.

There’s heating pads for his muscles and pain pills for his back–concrete solutions.

You, on the other hand, you’re young and fun and something he can’t quite get his fingers around.

And, you had left him–a fact he can’t quite forget. No matter how much he’d like to.

His throat is sore, scratchy in the way that tells him he spent last night snoring. Sighing as he sits up in bed, he cracks one shoulder and then the other.

His feet don’t want to find the floor. His body doesn’t want to hide behind the curtains in his own home because he can never be sure if you can see him.

Tommy thought he was so funny, making you two neighbors.

Joel does turn, eventually, let his feet land on the too cold floor. Toes slip into slippers he’d left in reach when he’d gotten into bed last night. He reaches blindly for the faded flannel robe that’s draped over the chair in the corner of his room.

He hasn’t had time for such indulgences, too busy running–from life, monsters. Anything. Before, he simply hadn’t wanted them.

But, Ellie had presented them both–a set, though the patterns didn’t match at all–as a gift and he hadn’t been able to say no.

He’s tired of being so sharp, so tough. In his own home, at least, maybe he can rest.

Home.

The thought brings his mind back to you, against his will, and as he pours his coffee he tries to see if your lights are on.

He can’t tell. The sun is working against him. He resolves himself to the fact that he’ll run into you at some point in town, so, really, what does it matter if you see each other sooner rather than later?

Besides, he’s almost positive you aren’t sitting in windowsills, pining after him.

He sits in the recliner Tommy had insisted he just had to have and welcomes the ability to put his feet up. It’s a relic–a handle raises and lowers the foot rest–but, somehow, it still works.

Taking a drink of his coffee, he thinks.

There’s no sound in the house, something Joel still hasn’t gotten used to since Ellie moved out.

I’m 20, she had said when Joel had asked if she was sure she wanted to leave, as if that was an explanation. Besides, don’t you want your own space?

He didn’t, if she wanted to know the truth. He wanted to hear her downstairs cooking breakfast or the sound of her snoring through the crack in her bedroom door.

He knew why she had gone, though. It was the same reason he had left home the moment he turned 18.

Freedom.

So, he could understand it, even if he wasn’t entirely fond of it.

He sees her every few days anyway.

Coffee now gone, he knows his day has to start, even if the town now feels like a loaded gun is waiting around every corner. He dresses–a flannel still happily coasting between cozy and too threadbare and jeans. He cracks his front door, feels the bite of the winter wind, and shuts it firmly.

An extra jacket wouldn’t hurt.

“I’m telling you,” Joel mumbles, “she probably doesn’t even remember.”

Tommy quirks a brow. “Are you kidding?” Shaking his head, he laughs. “You spent the better half of a year together. The tattoos–”

“I don’t wanna talk about the tattoos,” Joel dismisses. “Besides,” he mutters, “it was eleven months.”

“Oh,” Tommy hums. “My mistake.”

Silence and then, “You know someone will notice, right?”

Joel tilts his head. “You see me wearing a lot of short sleeves in the winter?”

“You can’t use the weather to hide forever, bro. The minute Ellie–hell, anybody–notices the two identical sunflowers on your arms?” He shakes his head. “Secrets out.”

“Yeah?” Joel asks. “What secret is that?”

His little brother leans in, whispers, “You can still find your soulmate after the apocalypse.”

“She’s the one that left.” Joel sighs. “Obviously, she didn’t care that we were soulmates.”

“You don’t even know why she left!” Tommy exclaims, exasperated.

Joel quirks a brow. “Somehow I haven’t had a lot of time, what with the apocalypse and all.”

His brother claps him on the shoulder. “You’ve got nothing but time now.”

Joel walks the streets of Jackson, spitting snow beginning to fall around him.

Maybe Tommy is right. It’s not like Joel doesn’t have some extra time on his hands, a strange concept after the last twenty years, he has to admit.

Maybe he should take advantage of it.

It’s that thought that’s rattling around in his brain when he collides with someone else.

“Sorry!” He reaches out, blindly, tries to catch the person or their belongings–something. “Sorry.”

“It’s okay,” a voice says. It’s a voice he’s never forgotten–couldn’t forget, even if he wanted to–and he kicks himself that this is the way he’d run into you again.

Literally.

“It was really,” you stand, catch sight of his face for the first time, “my fault.”

He’s older now, grayer and a little softer around the edges, but, still, he can see the moment recognition lights on your features.

“Joel?”

He nods, suddenly sheepish. For once, his mind is completely blank. It can’t begin to come up with an adequate greeting for an old flame that, maybe, still burns somewhere behind his rib cage. He settles on an all too casual, “Hi.”

You smile, a soft thing. “Hi.”

On instinct it seems, you take a step closer and hug him. Though it’s been years, the feeling of you pressed against him, your arms around him, it’s familiar.

He wants to hate it, but he doesn’t. Not even a little.

He barely resists the urge to press a kiss to your forehead, take a minute to inhale your scent, before you pull away.

“S’nice to see you.”

Joel nods. “You, too.” Somewhere between the truth and a lie.

“Your hair, it’s…softer,” you murmur.

“Yeah?” Joel reaches up, runs an idle hand through it. “Haven’t had a lot of time for haircuts, I guess.” He shrugs. “I kinda got used to it.”

You nod. “It’s been a long time.”

Joel quirks a brow. “Whose fault was that?”

It’s too sharp, too biting, and he can see the results flash across your face.

Shaking your head, you glare at him, blow out a breath. “I should have known you hadn’t changed.”

You turn on your heel, away from him, and he wants to reach out, tell you he’s sorry, but something won’t let him.

He thinks it’s his heart.

“I’ve changed plenty!” He calls after your shrinking form. “Changed enough to know I should stay away from you.”

You look over your shoulder–just for a second–long enough to cut him to the core. “The feeling is mutual!”

He sighs and continues on his own path, towards his own lonely house, entirely too close to you for comfort.

“So.” Ellie sighs. “That went well.”

Joel chuckles, rolls his eyes. “You think?”

“We can fix it,” she says, sitting on the couch closest to him. “It’ll be fine.”

“Sure about that?,” he asks. “It’s not a leaky sink, you know.”

Her eyes light up in the very particular way that tells Joel she’s had an idea he won’t be fond of.

He’s suddenly nervous.

“That’s it,” she exclaims.

“What’s it?”

Ellie leaves the room, obviously in search of something, and ignores him.

“Ellie,” he calls after her. “Ellie, what’s it?”

It’s her scheming that puts him on your porch, in fact, toolbox in hand and looking for something to fix.

Real or fake, it hadn’t really mattered to Ellie.

He should never have told her he had been a contractor.

The door opens and you glare at him, unsurprisingly.

“What do you want?”

He spits it out, before he can change his mind, run back home and hide.

“I’m sorry for earlier.” He shakes his head. “You left…before. And, I was angry and seeing you again…” He trails off, settles on simplicity. “I’m sorry.”

Something in your face softens as you step aside to let him in.

“I’m sorry for leaving, you know.”

You take him off guard, turn his pulse to a gallop.

“I was…I was afraid,” you murmur, skipping over his own apology in a way that’s entirely you.

Of course it’s the way you’d let him know things are okay.

“I should have told you that, though, instead of disappearing.”

He nods, swallows down a memory he doesn’t exactly want to relive right now, whispers, “It’s okay.”

You nod, smile at him. “You want a drink? Some food?”

He nods, places the toolbox in the floor next to your couch.

“That’d be nice.”

Joel isn’t sure how long the two of you have been talking–minutes or hours. Maybe days. Easy familiarity settles over the pair of you, and things are like they used to be.

He’s glad for it.

“Were there others?” Joel asks, words slipping out before he can stop them.

It’s the question that he somehow desperately wants the answer to and also never wants to hear.

You nod. “A few.” But, then, “None like you.”

It’s more honest than he expected, like your heart has opened to him once again.

You’re vulnerable. He knows you hate that.

“That makes sense.” He nods, rising to his feet, hand curling around the handle of his toolbox, imagining you want him to take his leave. “I’m pretty unforgettable.”

You laugh, look at him with something he would have called affection, once upon a time. “Yeah, you are, Miller.”

Something buzzes inside of him at the knowledge he can still make you laugh, even after everything, and he ducks his head, starts to head for the door.

“Joel?”

He turns, finds apprehension on your features.

He aches to set you at ease.

“Yeah?”

“Could you…would it…” You shake your head, shoulders squaring like you’re heading into a fight. “Would you want to stay? The night? With…with me.”

In a minute, he forgets it all. The pain and heartache and anger disappears with one look at your eyes.

“Yes.”

Simple–the way it’s always been between the two of you.

You crawl on top of him in a way he’d be lying if he said he hadn’t imagined over the years.

His hands find a resting place on either of your hips, squeeze the flesh there lightly.

“Hi,” you murmur, grin on your face.

“Hi.” He smiles.

It’s different when you’re with your soulmate.

Joel had been with others, sure.

Tess comes to mind, but he quickly shakes the thought away–along with the memory of her death.

But, every time, even when stars popped up behind his eyelids and warmth erupted through his every limb, it wasn’t what it had been with you.

The best way he could think to describe it was…more.

As you lean down, press a kiss to his lips, he finally admits to himself how much he’d missed it. You.

Joel feels you pull away and squeezes you closer. “Where you goin’?,” he mumbles, already half asleep.

“Shirt,” you whisper.

He shakes his head, nuzzles his nose into the hollow of your throat.

Chuckling softly, you say, “S’winter, Joel.”

He holds you even closer–if that’s possible. “I’ll keep you warm.” Then, just to tease, fingers dance over your hip bone, inches from the crux of your thighs. “Any way you want.”

“Joel…”

“Or, are you too old for this game?” He hums, getting a rise out of you too tempting to ignore. “You get soft on me while you were away?”

Your own hand–cold from it’s trip beyond the faded quilt that covers you both–dances along the soft skin of his stomach, curls around his still too sensitive length. He jumps, hisses out a breath, interest already simmering at the base of his spine.

“I can still play,” you purr. “Can you?”

Your hand works him over, languid strokes finding a pattern that makes his skin buzz.

Joel rises, mouth desperate to find yours.

He’s always liked to be kissed–especially by you, especially when you’re touching him the way you are.

You indulge him, lips parting to let his tongue tangle with your own. He can’t help but grin into the kiss.

In the morning, he wakes alone. Part of him isn’t shocked. Part of him is heartbroken all over again.

Quickly, he gets dressed–avoiding mirrors with the hopes of missing any evidence you’d left behind of the night before.

He goes to Tommy’s, doesn’t even look towards your house as he walks down the street.

“You’ve been in love before.” Tommy shrugs. “Maybe it could happen again. Nothing says you have to be with your soulmate.”

Joel hadn’t thought about it when he’d fallen in love with Sarah’s mother.

He hadn’t had much choice, if he’s honest. One look at her and he had been done for.

So, the fact she didn’t have a sunflower on the soft skin of her forearm wasn’t of much consequence. The fact she had her own tattoo–purple dahlia petals curling around her own wrist–had never mattered to her either.

They had shared a life and love and had turned that love into something that lived outside of them.

Sarah.

It was only a few months after she was born that Joel had woken up alone to the sound of Sarah’s crying.

He had adjusted, though. The two of them had made a team and found happiness all on their own.

Until…well, Joel didn’t really like to think about that day–that last day. He preferred to imagine her laughing, head thrown back in joy.

“I know,” he murmurs. He adds, almost under his breath, “I don’t think I want to fall in love. Not if it’s not with her.”

Tommy ducks his head, sheepish all of a sudden.

“What is it?”

“I promised I wouldn’t tell you.”

He leans forward, insistent. “Tommy, what is it?”

“She told Maria that she was…thinking of leaving Jackson.”

Joel is off Tommy’s couch and out the door before Tommy can ask where he’s going.

Joel suspects he knows.

His knocks are incessant, barely a pause between them.

“C’mon,” he murmurs to himself. “Please don’t be gone.”

The door opens, shocking Joel, and he almost falls through it.

“You can’t leave Jackson,” he pants. There’s an ache in his side, a pulling at muscles that scream with use more often than they don’t these days. He’s certain he shouldn’t have run to make sure he caught you.

You shake your head, hands coming to rest on either side of his face.

It’s a gesture full of affection and hope ignites in his gut.

“I’m not leaving,” you murmur.

Joel’s tongue is heavy, suddenly too thick to form a reply. “You…you’re not?”

“No.” Gently, your thumb rubs back and forth over his cheekbone. “I thought of something to stick around for.”

“Yeah?” Joel hums. “What’s that?”

“You.”

Joel feels the heat flush his cheeks. The emotions he really feels are too much–too real–so, he settles for a joke.

“That makes sense.” He nods. “I’m pretty unforgettable.”

“Yeah.” You laugh, duck your head for a minute before your eyes meet his again. “Yeah, you are, Miller.”

Later that night, with most of your closet mingled with his own, he pulls you close to him in bed. His lips ghost over your forehead and an arm wraps around your side.

He glances down at his wrist, takes in the bright yellows of the sunflower petals. With gentle fingers, he finds your wrist, brings it to his mouth and kisses the yellow of your own petals.

There’s gray in his hair, but, right now, he couldn’t feel more grateful for it.

#joel miller #joel miller x reader #joel miller fluff #joel miller fic #rebeccawrites

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