#can't decipher his name tag

[liyawritesss]

YOUR EARTH 42 MILES FIC WAS SO FUCKING GOOD OMFG👏🏾👏🏾👏🏾👏🏾👏🏾👏🏾👏🏾👏🏾👏🏾👏🏾👏🏾👏🏾👏🏾👏🏾👏🏾 of your taking requests can you write about how prowler miles met his girl and how he rizzed her up please? Only if you want to of course and again I only read one thing by you but your writing got me hooked!!!!

ᴀʟʟ ɪ ᴋɴᴏᴡ ɪꜱ ɪ ʙᴇ ʟᴏᴠɪɴ' ʏᴏᴜ

Characters: Spiderverse!Earth-42!Miles Morales x Black!Fem!Reader

Type: Fic

Word Count: 3.7k

Synopsis: The sequel to i really like what you’ve done to me, Miles reflects on his first encounter with you, and how he immediately made it his mission to make you his.

Warnings: Cursing….thats about it, I think

A/N: This was a long one in the making and I think I actually like my characterization of 42!miles here. I didn’t wanna make him overly edgy or overly hood or anything, and I hope that you guys will appreciate the subtlety of his personality here. Hope you all enjoy!

Tags: @6-noir @babyboiboyega @badass-dora-milaje @jacuzziwaters @mbakuetshurisprincess @shuriszn @verachii @writingintheshadowsforever @cafehyunji @niyahwrites @marsfunzon22 @briology @honeybleed @romiantic @queenofthespiderverse @onlyperc @starsoirees @yasminisbroke @asensitivecookie @kdyance @sussybaka10 @famedrs-blog @milesismyhubby @foreclosure--of--a--dream

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Miles remembers the day he first talked to you so clearly. It was almost as if it were yesterday. 

The middle of the semester had always been prime time for teachers to start assigning end of semester projects, and while Miles was lucky enough for majority of his classes to have only assigned him individual projects, there was always one class that such a fortune was never the case in. 

When the teacher was calling out pairs there was a part of Miles that dreaded who his partner would be. He hoped it wasn't a slacker - he'd had his fair share of irritation and headache from those types of students who never took their schooling seriously. Then again, he didn't necessarily have to, either, considering his uncensored brilliance already, but at least he still made an effort to look like he made an effort. Others didn't have the same sentiment.

He didn't know  most of his classmates personally, but knew the ones he needed to know by name and face; due to previous instances of being paired with them for projects in this same fashion. The fact that most of his old project partners were consistently placed in the same classes as him reinforced the begrudging familiarity that came with them. Though there were a few select people out of that circle that he'd found himself knowing of due to other circumstances - clumsiness in the halls, points of contact for school activities, etc. 

So when the teacher called Miles' name and the name of his partner, it wasn't a surprise to himself when his head turned to the side to look for them. What did surprise him, however, was when he turned to the seat next to him, only to have found it empty. 

He can't recall if he's ever seen the seat empty since he's been in this class, missing the presence of the person who he deemed to be a good student. Always on time, always exact; work turned in, always complete, and always paying attention to the lectures. Their own interactions were limited to the passing of worksheets,  exchanges of pencils and the occasional conversations of how irritating the teacher was being.

Miles wouldn't consider the shared interactions to be that one friendship - it was more akin to general acquaintanceship. Though, deciphering her character from said limited interactions, he knew that this was not in normal behavior for the girl. Eyebrows furrowed at the lack of her presence, questioning where she could have been.

Since his partner wasn't there, Miles had been left with a brainstorming worksheet to fill out on his own, but his mind was not on the project. He found himself still wondering about his partner's whereabouts. He could have sworn he'd seen her that day, walking the halls with the same two girls she'd been friends with since the school year started. While the same two girls were in class, having been paired together for the project, the missing girl wasn't. So, when the ring of the bell sounded, signaling the end of the day, Miles knew what his first course of action was to be.

"Aye, yo," his voice carries over to the two girls who'd been packing their supplies up, ready to begin their after school activities of sneaking off campus to go to the mall, "where yo' friend at?"

The first girl, with soft locs pulls into a high pony and shiny lip gloss adorning her lips, who he knew by the name of Key, scrunched her face in a grimace

 "What's it to you, boy?" She says chastely, giving him a quick once over.

"C'mon, nah," Miles presses, "y'all know she my partner for this stupid project. I'm just tryna get this shit over with, a'ight?"

The other friend answers next - one of his ex-project partners Taji - her chin resting in her hand, fingers decorated with matte brown coffin shaped nails resting against her cheek. "We ain't seen her since lunch. Said she was gon' go to her locker for sumn' but ain't never come back to the table."

Miles' brow arches, as if quizzing her answer, trying to determine the validity of it. Taji catches onto this, and shoots a similar expression back to him.

"What, you thinkin' I'm lyin' to you, nigga?"

"Are you, Taj?"

"Boy, what I got to lie to you for?"

Taji and Miles had a similar acquaintanceship to that of him and (Y/N), with the former being his partner for a project for their shared arts class in their sophomore year. She was a talented artist, not to mention the one person able to reawaken his love for art, even if it was to a small degree. 

"A'ight, whatever, y'all ain't no help."

He let out a sigh, dismissing the girls’ seemingly secretive antics with a wave of his hand, before tucking the same one in his pocket, preparing to leave the classroom. He didn’t have time to entertain the two girls before him, and believed it best to leave them be and return to his dorm room to figure out the project on his own.

“Check the rooftops,” Miles heard Taji say as half of his body begins to cross the threshold of the classroom door. It makes the boy stop in his tracks, turning his head back to see the two girls as they stand as well, gathering their belongings to leave for the day as well, “or somewhere around there.”

“The rooftops are locked, dummy,” Miles corrects, “janitors here ain’t that lazy and ignorant.”

“Oh, so you weren’t just up there a week ago?” Taji replies back, a tinge of tease in her voice, knowing she’s caught him red handed when a small bulge forms on his cheek. 

“Yeah, nigga, tighten up, cuz you lackin’.”

“Shut up, big head.”

The faint echo of snickering lingers as Miles leaves the classroom, heavy footsteps carrying him down the hall to the maintenance door that leads to the rooftops. 

It’s a routine he’s done many times before, the muscle memory set into motion the second he sees the custodian cart next to the doorway, with the clip of keys attached to the lanyard hanging off the side handle. Expert fingers grab hold of the clip and slide off the first bronze colored key distinguishable for all the maintenance doors in the building - including the rooftop door. Before the custodian exits the bathroom situated next to the maintenance door, Miles is long gone and heads up the next three flights of stairs to reach the navy blue metal door to the school's rooftop. 

Miles had become well acquainted with the rooftop of Visions Academy. After the death of his father, he found solace in solitude. He couldn’t skip school and stay in his dorm or return to his apartment, because both would result in his mother worrying and stressing over him and his uncle getting on his ass about the importance of school and sending his mother into more distress than what she was already enduring. He’d come across the remote haven on accident; one morning when he arrived at school earlier than anyone else, he’d made a wrong turn into what he thought was his homeroom, but upon recognizing the darker and tinier corridor he had entered, realized he had in fact entered one of the maintenance hallways. Curiosity got the better of the dark skinned boy, and upon climbing the three flights of stairs, came across an unlocked metal door that lead to the school's rooftop.

For months, that would be his routine. Arriving a couple of hours before classes began to spend time by himself upon the school’s rooftop. He’d watch the sunrise above the Brooklyn skyline, allowing the heat to melt the cold exterior of his skin, shaking off the bitterness that came from lack of sleep and a racing mind from the night before. Miles and the morning sun became good acquaintances that way, greeting each other at each sunrise; it became one of very few things he looked forward to in those days, and continued to be his secret motivation to peel himself from his bed in the morning to attend the school his mother and father worked hard to put him in.

His hand grasps onto the door hand and twists, pushing the door outward and Miles is immediately washed in the evening sun. He steps onto the concrete ground, scanning the area in front of him for the presence of another. The corner in which he usually occupies is empty, and there’s nothing much to see at the moment but scattered leaves on top of firm grayness.

Black and white Jordan turn and trail around the side of the rooftop doorway, still searching for any sign of another's presence. Taji’s tip is proven correct when his eyes land upon a feminine figure, and there’s a slight wave of relief crosses his face upon finally finding the girl who’d been missing from class two hours before.

“Yo.” Miles calls out to her, and yet there is no reaction. With his eyebrows furrowed, he calls out again, but there is no response once again. He begins to walk further towards her, confusion beginning to settle in, but is then relieved when he notices a book in her lap; as well as earbuds that become visible the closer Miles steps towards her.

There’s a peaceful air that surrounds the girl, and there’s a part of Miles that doesn’t want to disturb her, but as much respect as he has for the other, he’ll be damned if he has to wait until next week to explain this project to her. So, with a short sigh, Miles reaches his hand out to touch her shoulder, calling out to the girl for the third time.

“Aye-” he begins, and all it takes is a touch on her shoulder for the girl to jump away from his touch in shock. A short yelp - more like a squeak, if anything - erupted from her mouth, which made Miles purse his lips tight to keep the snort he wanted to release at bay.

“Jesus, fuck-” you curse, shoulders dropping and a sigh leaving your lips the moment you realized who it was.

“You know that’s dangerous, right?” Miles asks, raising a finger to create circular motions towards his own ear before gesturing to you. “Having those things in on max; what if you was out on the street?”

A scowl forms on your lips as you take out one of your earbuds, stopping the music you had filtering into your ears as you were deep into your reading. You held the book by the spine, thumb placed in between the pages and forefinger on the hardcover spine. “I know not to do that on the street,” you reply, “I was just tryna read my book, before you decided to scare the living shit out of me.”

The boy rolls his eyes at your words, then follows your form as you take to sitting on the concrete ground, using the side of the ventilation bed to lean against. A second of silence passes between the two of you, before Miles finds himself sitting in the spot you once occupied, with wiring fans sounding behind him softly.

“You ain’t come to class today,” Miles voices, hands tucked into the pockets of his black and white Brooklyn letterman jacket as he focuses his gaze onto you. The soft click of you closing your earbud case sounds as you pocket them into your jacket to give the other male your attention, “what was that about?”

It takes you a minute to respond, and Miles isn’t sure if it was because you were coming up with an excuse that would satisfy him, or if you were buying your time for the question to be unanswered. “You know we got them projects assigned today, right?”

“That’s exactly why I ain’t go,” you answer, finally, “there’s an odd number in that class. Was hoping that I’d just be able to do somethin’ by myself instead of being partnered with some lazy ass who don’t be doin’ shit for real.”

“Damn,” the boy breathes with a chuckle, amused by her colorful choice of words, “ain’t even give me a chance and I’m already being called lazy, that’s crazy.”

It takes you a moment to catch on to his tease, at first furrowing your brows as you deciphered what his words meant. As realization dawned on you, your brows rose apologetically, having now realized the possible severity of your words. 

“No, wait- shit, I didn’t mean like that-”

“You cool, chill,” the dark skinned boy reassures, “I know what you mean.”

He watches as another sigh leaves your lips, in relief that your words were not misunderstood, but also in response to his little joke, and he can’t help but to chuckle again. “You right, though. Don’t nobody in that class do shit for real.”

That little jest did garner a laugh from you, and Miles can tell it’s one of comfort and ease. It’s the kind of laugh his mother would share with him after a long shift at the hospital where she’d have to put up a professional front, and she finally is able to shed the protective exterior and be her cheeky self. It’s the kind of laugh that signifies the forming of bond between people; the development of a relationship; the start of something new.

“A’ight, here’s the deal,” says Miles, his hand coming from the pocket of his jacket, rubbing his nose out of habit, then leaning on his knee to grow closer to you, “we both don’t wanna do this project ‘cus it’s a waste of time-”

“A huge waste of time-”

“-but if we do this project, I can prove to you I’m not a lazy ass.”

He watches as you feign a look of thought, eyes casted upward, lips pursed together with a little hum rumbling from your throat. After a moment, your eyes geared over towards Miles, a teasing smile gracing your lips, before finally answering him; “A’ight, sure.”

You start to rise, and Miles does as well, outstretching a hand to help you up from your seating position. As you dust off the bottom of your skirt from the debris on the ground, Miles picks up your bookbag from the ground and hands it to you once you’ve adjusted yourself appropriately. 

If Miles would have been told that he would be dating the girl who was partnered with him for their end of year project, he’d look at you as if you just called him out of his name. And yet, as he glances down at his phone, eyes scanning over your good morning messages together, he finds himself secretly thanking that teacher for pairing them up; he wouldn’t have had it any other way.

“Hey, Unc?” says the younger, breaking the comfortable silence shared between the two, the ambiance of the morning radio the only sound echoing throughout the car.

“Yeah?” For a second, Miles purses his lips together. He spends a few seconds looking down at the screen of his phone and at the road ahead, as if contemplating on his next words carefully. It doesn’t take much for Aaron to notice the shift in behavior. “What is it?”

The younger’s tongue pokes the inside of his cheek, creating an extrusion on the side of Miles’ face, before he speaks; “You hungry?”

It’s an odd question posed, Aaron thinks, as it’s one that’s honestly never been posed in this section of their shared routine. Once a job was finished, especially when it went well into the night, and cleanup and debriefing happened during the early morning hours, both were too exhausted to let the thought of hunger cross their minds. Aaron raises an eyebrow at the question, beckoning the younger to explain further, “Am I…hungry?”

“Yeah,” says Miles, “my girl, she uh, she made breakfast, and asked if I wanted a plate. So I was askin’ you if you wanted one too-”

The look on Aaron’s face turned from confusion to bewilderment, and the previous expression was mirrored onto Miles’ face the second his sentence finished. “Why you lookin’ like that?”

A moment passed. A smile cracks onto Aaron’s face, a chuckle falls from his thick lips, a teasing tone already etched into his voice as he begins to speak.

“Oh no-”

“Aww, shit-!”

“Please, tio, don’t-”

“She can cook, too?”

And for the next few second, Miles is sunken into the passenger seat as all he can do is allow the onslaught of teasing and pestering from his uncle to cause heat to rise up his neck at a staggering temperature. In between the questions of other endearing qualities his nephew’s girlfriend may have had, the GPS within the car directs the older to said girlfriend’s address, of which had been keyed in during Aaron’s banter. Amidst it all, the growling of their stomachs was undeniable.

After a series of turns, the pair eventually reached your block, the familiar brownstone buildings and plotted trees along the sidewalk illuminated beautifully by the morning sun. “Right here,” Miles says as he points to the specific brownstone with your address on it, the older easily slipping into the parking spot in front of the building.

The younger mumbles a ‘be right back’ before he slips from the car, leaving Aaron in his own solitude, finding amusement in the entire ordeal. Never had he thought he’d be offered a plate of food by his nephew’s girl, and yet, he finds himself reliving the almost identical situation to the time Jefferson wanted to pull up to Rio’s home for a warm plate of empanadas. It had been the first time he had met Rio, and if Miles was anything like his father, then this would be the first time he’d meet the girl that stole his nephew’s heart.

Thirty minutes pass before Miles emerges from the reddish-brown door, and Aaron would have told the boy off for having him wait for long for a plate he offered, if he hadn’t seen the young lady he’d assume to be his girlfriend trailing behind the dark skinned boy.

“Remember, the one on top is your uncles since he doesn’t like pork bacon. And be careful because the food is still hot, I don’t want y’all to burn your mouths-”

“Baby,” Miles says, his tone warm and comforting as his freehand comes to your waist, the other holding the white bag of styrofoam containers containing the breakfast you had prepared, “I know, it’s okay. I’m not gon’ steal his turkey bacon.”

“Yeah, you better not.” You mumble against the skin of his cheek before pressing your lips to the soft skin, pressing deep into the flesh as if to burn the imprint of your lips onto his skin. Once your lips parted from the first kiss, a series of pecks met Miles’ cheek, causing the boy to smile unconsciously by the softness of your touch.

Miles’ wandering eyes caught the sight of his uncle peering through the car window, snickering at the pair, but just as soon as he was caught, the older resumed his original position; though the attempt to restrain the tug on his lips proved to be a struggle. “Is that your uncle?” You ask, innocent but hesitant, not wanting to cross a boundary. Though the state of your relationship was healthy and stable, with lots of communication and expressions of love shared amongst the both of you, Miles had made it clear that easing you into meeting his mother and uncle would be something to take seriously. They were all he had left, and he wanted to make sure that what the two of you had, and were working to develop, was something long term and lasting. The last thing he wanted was for his relationship to crash and burn the second he wanted to connect the most significant people in his life together.

“Yeah, that’s him,” Miles replies, a slight tug on one side of his lips as he turns to glance at the car, then back towards you, “do you wanna say hi?”

You barely understood the words the other had asked you before nodding excitedly. Though as the two of you descended down the tan concrete stairs, across the sidewalk and to the side of the care, the revelation slowly dawned on you that you were meeting Miles’ uncle, and you had no idea why all of a sudden you felt conscious of the loungewear set you’d chosen to dawn that morning while you made breakfast, or the fact that if was through the window of his car - both being the exact opposite of how you wanted your first meeting with Miles’ family to go.

Aaron took the hint with both of you approaching the car, and rolled down the passenger window to speak to the two of you clearly.

“Unc,” Miles starts, taking his hand from your waist to gesture between you and Aaron, “this is (Y/N); and babe, this is my Uncle Aaron.”

There seemed to be a second of stalling on your end, before you took a step forward, bending at the knees slightly to meet Aaron’s eyes. His one hand rested on the steering wheel, his other arm leaning on the arm rest, propping him up.

“Hi, Mr. Davis,” you said, doing your bets to refrain from stuttering, “it’s a pleasure to meet you.”

“Hello to you, too, miss lady,” the older replies, “it’s nice to meet you, too. I heard you made breakfast for us?”

You nodded with a polite smile, “I was just in the mood to cook, and I figured Miles may be hungry; he said you were with him, so I only thought it right to make you a plate, too.”

Aaron purses his lips together in an expression of approval, eyes moving from yours to his nephews as his head bobbing in a slow motion. “Oh, yeah, she’s good, man.”

“Tio, please-” Miles whines, which garners a chuckle from his uncle and a giggle from you; and for a second, the feeling that formed in the pit of his stomach the first time he made you laugh returns. The kind of laughs that signifies the forming of a bond between people; the development of a relationship… the start of something new. It’s from that, that Miles knows that any worries of his family not liking you vanishes. 

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[elryuse]

THE SCENT OF JASMINE FLOWERS

WONYOUNG X MALE READER X GAEUL

TAGS : LOVE TRIANGLE, CHEATING WONYOUNG, LIGHT YANDERE GAEUL, ANGST, HAPPY END, FLUFF

The city lights blurred past the taxi window, a kaleidoscope of neon mirroring the turmoil within me. Each raindrop hitting the pavement echoed the hammering in my chest. Wonyoung was gone, not physically – she still shared our apartment, a ghost haunting its familiar walls – but emotionally, her heart stolen by a cruel mirage.

Sunghoon. The name felt like a curse word on my tongue. He was everything I wasn't – loud, flashy, the center of attention. Wonyoung, my sunshine, my Wonyoung, had been lured by his supernova glow, leaving me in the cold, desolate space he left behind.

We were the perfect couple, or so everyone thought. Public appearances, stolen kisses on award shows, our social media a testament to a love people envied. But behind the curated feed, cracks had begun to show. Her lingering glances at Sunghoon, the whispered conversations during interviews I couldn't decipher.

I buried my head in the sand, clinging to the illusion of our happiness. Until the day I saw the message. A careless text left open on her phone, a single sentence that shattered our carefully constructed world.

"Meet me tonight, baby. Can't wait to see you again."

The phone slipped from my grasp, crashing onto the coffee table like a gunshot. The once-sweet scent of her perfume in the air turned suffocating.

Days bled into weeks, a hollow space where Wonyoung used to be. Calls went unanswered, texts ignored. The guilt gnawed at her, I knew, her apologies echoing in a phone call that replayed on a loop in my mind. But the words, laced with a desperation I no longer recognized, rang hollow.

My saving grace, my lighthouse in this storm, was Gaeul. Wonyoung's best friend, always a presence on the periphery of our relationship. Now, she was the constant by my side, a silent pillar of support.

Nights were the worst. Sitting in the living room, the echo of our laughter bouncing off the walls like a cruel ghost. Gaeul would sit beside me, a warm presence against the chill that enveloped me. Her hand, a grounding force.

One night, as sobs wracked my body, a flicker of something new sparked in her eyes. Not pity, but a hesitant understanding. A silent confession we both acknowledged but couldn't yet voice.

Wonyoung returned, a broken bird with tear-streaked cheeks. Her apologies were a torrent of words, a desperate attempt to rewind time. But the pieces of our love were scattered, impossible to reassemble.

My heart, once overflowing with love for the girl with sunshine hair, was now a barren landscape. The thrill she craved had left her empty, the excitement a fleeting mirage.

Gaeul was different. Her love was a quiet flame, a steady warmth in the storm. Her eyes held a depth I hadn't noticed before, a quiet strength that complemented my own.

As Wonyoung packed her things, a ghost leaving the life she'd built, a flicker of hope ignited within me. It wasn't the same fierce love I once held for Wonyoung, but it was a spark nonetheless.

Looking at Gaeul, her hand resting on mine, I finally found the words that had been lost, choked by sorrow.

"Gaeul," I whispered, my voice hoarse. "I think… I think I might be falling for you."

The rain outside had stopped, replaced by a sliver of moonlight peeking through the clouds. A new beginning, fragile but hopeful, stretched before me. The love I once had for Wonyoung, a vibrant flower, might have wilted, but from its ashes, a different kind of love bloomed. A quiet love, a steady flame, waiting to be nurtured.

Timeskip

The scent of jasmine, once a sweet reminder of Gaeul's calming presence, now made my stomach churn. It clung to the air like a ghost, a stark contrast to the cloying perfume that filled the apartment when Wonyoung reappeared.

"Y/n," she breathed, her voice trembling like a teardrop. She stood in the doorway, my name a soft plea on her lips. Her blonde hair cascaded down her shoulders, her eyes glistening with unshed tears. The Wonyoung I knew, the vibrant sunshine girl, was gone, replaced by a fragile wisp of a woman desperate for redemption.

"Wonyoung," I mumbled, unsure of what to say. Gaeul was away for the weekend, visiting her family. A selfish part of me, a flicker of the love that still flickered like a dying ember, welcomed this unexpected visit.

"Can I come in?" she pleaded, her voice a mere whisper. I hesitated, the image of Gaeul, her hand intertwined with mine, flashing in my mind. But Wonyoung's watery eyes were too much to bear.

"Just for a bit," I muttered, stepping aside.

She moved like a wisp, collapsing onto the couch I used to share with Gaeul. The scent of jasmine mingled with the heavy perfume, creating a suffocating mix.

"I miss you, Y/n," she confessed, her voice barely audible. "I miss us."

My heart clenched. The memories flooded back – stolen kisses in backstage corridors, whispered secrets under a blanket of stars. But that time had passed, replaced by Gaeul's quiet strength, her unwavering support.

"Gaeul..." I started, but she cut me off.

"Gaeul is kind," she said, her voice laced with something bitter. "But she doesn't understand you like I do."

She took a step closer, her hand brushing against mine. The touch sent a jolt through me, a betrayal of the fragile peace I'd found with Gaeul.

"We could try again, Y/n," she whispered, her voice husky. "Forget Sunghoon, forget everything. We can be like we were before."

Her words were a siren song, a desperate attempt to rewind time. The Wonyoung I once loved stood before me, but the ghost of Gaeul's hurt loomed large.

"Wonyoung..." I began, searching for the right words.

Suddenly, the door creaked open. Gaeul stood there, framed by the entrance, a dark cloud behind the veil of her hair. Her face, usually radiating warmth, was set in a mask of cold fury.

"Gaeul," I stammered, the air thickening with tension.

Wonyoung, sensing the shift in atmosphere, whipped around, her eyes widening in surprise.

"What's going on here?" Gaeul asked, her voice devoid of its usual gentleness. It was a voice I'd never heard before, a low growl that sent shivers down my spine.

Wonyoung, flustered, stammered an explanation. But Gaeul cut her off, her gaze fixed on me.

"Y/n," she said, her voice a chilling whisper. "Is everything alright?"

The question hung in the air, an accusation disguised as concern. The possessiveness in her voice, the way she clung to the words "everything alright" like a lifeline, was unsettling.

"Yes," I lied, my voice thin. "We were just… catching up."

Gaeul's gaze never left me. It was an intense scrutiny that made me feel like a bug pinned under a microscope. The jasmine scent, which once offered solace, now felt like a suffocating prison.

Wonyoung, sensing the hostility, opted for a graceful retreat. Mumbling a quick goodbye, she practically flew out of the apartment, leaving an unsettling quiet behind.

Gaeul turned to me, her eyes filled with a storm of emotions. The love, the possessiveness, the anger – it all swirled together in a terrifying cocktail.

"Don't let her manipulate you again, Y/n," she hissed, her voice tight with barely concealed rage.

I opened my mouth to speak, but the words wouldn't come. The Gaeul I knew, the comforting presence, seemed to have vanished. In her place stood a woman I didn't recognize, a woman consumed by a love that had turned possessive.

The night that followed was a blur of accusations and justifications. My apartment, once a haven of peace, became a battleground. The love triangle that had started with Wonyoung's infidelity had now morphed into a suffocating web of possessiveness, with Gaeul as the spider at its center.

As the sun peeked through the blinds, casting harsh light on the wreckage of the night, I knew things couldn't go on like this. My once cozy apartment, filled with shared laughter and the scent of Gaeul's jasmine tea, now reeked of tension and the cloying perfume Wonyoung had worn.

Gaeul sat on the couch, her back ramrod straight, arms crossed tightly across her chest. Gone was the gentle touch that used to comfort me, replaced by a cold, unyielding demeanor.

"Gaeul," I started, my voice hoarse. "We need to talk about this."

She finally looked at me, but not in the way I craved. Her eyes, usually sparkling with warmth, were hard and calculating.

"What is there to talk about, Y/n?" she spat. "Wonyoung just waltzes back in after breaking your heart, and you're ready to fall for her all over again?"

"No," I said, trying to defend myself. "I just... I don't know what happened last night. It was wrong, and I'm sorry."

Her lips turned into a thin line. "Sorry doesn't fix things, Y/n. You need to make a choice. Me or her."

The ultimatum hung heavy in the air. The Gaeul I knew wouldn't have issued such an order. This possessive stranger felt like someone I barely recognized.

"Gaeul," I sighed, running a hand through my hair. "We haven't even…"

"Haven't even what?" she snapped. "Haven't confessed our feelings? We've been there for each other through everything, Y/n. Isn't that enough?"

Her voice cracked on the last word, a flicker of vulnerability breaking through the facade. But the possessiveness remained, a dark cloud clouding her love.

The truth was, it was enough. Gaeul's unwavering support had been a lifeline during the storm of Wonyoung's betrayal. Yet, the way she was acting now felt suffocating. Did I love Gaeul? In the aftermath of Wonyoung's heartbreak, maybe it was a form of gratitude, a comfort zone I'd settled into.

"Gaeul," I tried again, "I need time."

Her eyes narrowed. "Time for what, Y/n? To run back to Wonyoung's arms the moment she bats her eyelashes at you?"

"No," I said, more firmly this time. "Time to figure out what this is, between us. This possessiveness… it scares me."

The anger in her eyes flickered momentarily, replaced by a flicker of sadness. "Is that all I am to you, Y/n? Just a possession to be claimed or discarded?"

My heart ached. The Gaeul I knew wouldn't have spoken like this. The love that bound us, now twisted by her possessiveness, threatened to unravel completely.

"Gaeul, you're not just a possession," I said, trying to reach her. "You're my friend, my support system. But… but this isn't healthy. We both need space."

She stood up abruptly, her movements jerky and tense. "Fine," she spat, the word laced with hurt and anger. "Have your space, Y/n. Just don't come crawling back to me when you realize you threw away the good thing you had right here."

With that, she stormed out of the apartment, leaving me alone with the ghosts of the night and the deafening silence in its wake.

The following days were a blur. Neither Gaeul nor Wonyoung contacted me. The space I'd craved felt more like a desolate wasteland. The apartment, once a haven, felt empty without the comforting scent of jasmine tea or the familiar warmth of Gaeul's presence.

As the days turned into weeks, a strange realization dawned on me. My feelings for Wonyoung, once a passionate inferno, had dwindled to embers. The betrayal had left an indelible mark, a permanent scar on our relationship.

What about Gaeul? The possessiveness that had initially scared me, now felt like a twisted reflection of the love she held for me. A love that, however distorted, was genuine.

One evening, I decided to take a chance. Armed with a bouquet of jasmine flowers, I stood outside Gaeul's apartment, my heart pounding a nervous rhythm against my ribs.

After a long wait, the door creaked open. Gaeul stood there, her eyes puffy and red-rimmed.

"Y/n?" she said, her voice thick with surprise.

I held out the bouquet, the jasmine flowers radiating a comforting scent. Gaeul's gaze softened, a flicker of recognition replacing the initial shock.

"Gaeul," I began, my voice rough with emotion. "I messed up. Big time."

She didn't say anything, but her eyes held a silent invitation to continue.

"I was scared," I confessed, taking a deep breath. "Scared of losing you, scared of letting go of the comfort you offered. But my fear twisted your love, turned it into something unhealthy."

The vulnerability in my voice seemed to resonate with her. A single tear escaped her eye, tracing a glistening path down her cheek.

"I don't want Wonyoung," I continued, my gaze meeting hers with newfound clarity. "The woman I miss is the one who brought me jasmine tea in the mornings, the one who held me through the night when my heart ached. The woman I love is you, Gaeul."

A hesitant smile bloomed on her face, as beautiful as the first flower peeking through winter's frost. She stepped closer, the scent of jasmine mingling with the warmth of her body.

"Gaeul," I whispered, my voice thick with emotion. "Can I… can I kiss you?"

Her eyes fluttered shut, a silent permission. As our lips met, a spark ignited, a gentle flame rekindled by honesty and second chances. The kiss wasn't fiery or passionate, but filled with a quiet understanding, a promise of a future built on trust and love.

The weeks that followed were a whirlwind of apologies, forgiveness, and cautious exploration of this newfound love. We talked for hours, peeling away the layers of fear and misunderstanding.

One evening, as the city lights twinkled outside our window, casting a warm glow on the apartment once filled with tension, I knelt before Gaeul, holding a small velvet box.

"Gaeul," I said, my voice thick with emotion, "You were my friend, my rock, and now you're the love of my life. Will you marry me?"

Tears welled up in her eyes, a radiant smile breaking through the dam. "Yes," she whispered, her voice choked with happy tears.

The following year, surrounded by friends and family, we exchanged vows. The jasmine scent filled the air, a symbol of love, comfort, and a second chance. As I looked into Gaeul's eyes, brimming with love and joy, I knew I had found not just a wife, but a partner who understood the complexities of love and was willing to work through them.

The love triangle that had threatened to tear my life apart had ultimately led me to the one person who truly mattered. And with each passing year, the love we shared, nurtured by honesty and trust, only grew stronger.

#ive gaeul #ive wonyoung #ive starship #kpop #kpop x reader #kpop x y/n #x male reader #beautiful #apreciation post #update #yandere #angst #kpop fluff #wonyoung #kim gaeul

[2baabbies]

🖤 Obsessed (Hyunjin x Reader) 🖤

Pairings: established relationship hyunjin x reader

Words: 3800

Summary: Hyunjin’s jealous streak ends with you finding him in a compromising position. AKA: in your bed, masturbating while wearing your shirt.

(somewhat inspired by Olivia Rodrigo’s song by the same name; quote at the beginning also from this song)

Fluff + Smut + Humour

afab + fem!reader

CWs: jealousy (but make it cute and silly), reader is trying to make hyunjin jealous but only because it makes them both horny (and he’s a drama queen), he’s only a bit insecure, the point of contention is a big shirt but reader’s weight is not described (aka this fic is not limited to any one body size), reader and hyunjin have exes, reader lets hyunjin make assumptions that she teases him about later

Smut Tags: lots of teasing!!, (subtle) subby!hyune x dom!reader, intercourse (peanits in vagina), safe sex/use of condom, a bit of rough sex/uncomfortable position, reader has a kink for hyunjin’s desperation, begging, hair pulling, overstim, slight dumbification of reader, slightly pervy!hyune (smelling your clothes), hyunjin masturbates in your shirt (described in detail), little bit of voyeurism, bit of cum eating

!!ATTENTION!!

Reposting this fic to other platforms, including as a translation, is expressly prohibited. Do not copy, alter, or claim this fic as your own. Absolutely no permission is given to anyone to post my works, even with credit, and this fic should only appear on Ao3 or Tumblr under my accounts. Reposting is not only plagiarism, but a direct violation of my wishes as the original writer and owner. Please respect writers and don’t steal!

Likes, reblogs, asks and comments are very welcome and appreciated <3

~~~

‘And I know you love me, and I know it's crazy

But every time you call my name, I think you mistake me for her

You both have moved on, you don't even talk

But I can't help it, I got issues, I can't help it, baby’

It takes Hyunjin’s brain a second to register that something is wrong, and a second after that to actually take a look at himself and attempt to decipher what feels so off. He is still buffering when you return to your bedroom. You giggle at his bedhead and the cute expression on his face as he grabs the hem of his shirt and holds it up. He thought he had grabbed his white tshirt off the floor, and in his morning daze he had actually grabbed one of yours that you were too lazy to throw in the morning laundry. The graphic tee is far too big on him, even hanging off his shoulder, but you get a good look at the boxers he pulled on seconds before thanks to his hands lifting it up above his stomach. He drops the material and it falls down over his lap, unfortunately covering his soft tummy and pale thighs. He looks up then blinks away his sleep as you enter with a basket of clean laundry. You hold up his shirt and you giggle again at his sleepy smile.

“Looking for this?”

He nods and watches you drop the basket on the bed. You pull each freshly washed garment out for him and he shuffles over to loop his arms around your waist from behind.

“You let me sleep in…”

“You wouldn’t get up, sleeping beauty.”

He huffs and pecks the nape of your neck.

“You didn’t try hard enough…”

“Mhm, sure. You look cute in that.”

You admire him over your shoulder as he leans back and plucks the baggy fabric between his fingers.

“It doesn’t fit me…”

“I think that’s where the cuteness comes in.”

“I’m always cute…”

“That… I don’t disagree with that.”

He chuckles and turns you around so he can properly embrace you. You smile at him and nudge your noses together with a fond smile. He hums and nuzzles back gently, drawing your body tight to his with a content sigh.

“It’s so cozy… How come I hardly see you wearing it?”

You fail to realize at first that he is back to talking about the shirt, and take a moment of silence to contemplate his question.

“I wear it all the time. I think it’s just always dirty, I try to put something cleaner on when I know you’re coming over.”

You both laugh at your honesty.

“It’s really soft.”

“Well, I’d offer to buy you one but I don’t know where it came from.”

“What do you mean?”

“Someone left it over a while ago…”

You do not regret the words when they leave your mouth, but you can do little to fight your smirk as Hyunjin’s lips draw into a tight line. He then purses his lips and puffs his cheeks in a dramatic pout.

“Who?”

“Don’t be jealous.”

“I’m not jealous. Tell me who.”

You roll your eyes. Hyunjin was privy to the history of all your exes, situationships, and sexual escapades. You knew about his too. It had been relieving to be able to talk so candidly about your experiences with him, and it definitely allowed the two of you to become close early on in your relationship. There was something therapeutic about snuggling with your lover and bitching about the ones that let you down.

It did not, however, curb Hyunjin’s jealousy in the slightest. He knew their names, how long you were together, if you still talked, he even knew where some of them lived and worked. It would be alarming if you had not both offered all that information to each other willingly. And you knew, ultimately, Hyunjin would never restrict you from having a friendship with any of the exes you still talked to. Although you would never admit it, you treated his jealousy as a testament of his love. He only cared so much because he cared about you. Besides, it was a natural emotion, and the fact that he was willing to  be so emotionally available did more for you than anything your exes ever did.

“We don’t even talk anymore, Hyune. I don’t think she’s even in this country.”

“She. She. Oh god, I know who it is.”

“No, you don’t-”

He falls out of your arms and to the bed with a heavy thud, wailing incoherently as you observe his theatrics.

“She’s the worst!”

“Well, that’s why we’re not friends anymore…”

He suddenly thrashes and tears the shirt off with an animalistic grunt. You cock your eyebrow up and watch him roll around in vain when it gets stuck on his chin. He manages to pull it off and whips it at the floor, breathless after his performance.

“Are you okay?” You ask.

“I can’t believe you let me wear her shirt.”

You scoff.

“Firstly, you’re the one that put it on. Secondly, it’s my shirt. She left it. Finders keepers.”

“I feel dirty.”

“You’re fine. And overreacting.”

You kneel on the edge of the bed and crawl up so you are sitting in his lap. He huffs and looks at you with a miserable expression.

“Why did you keep her shirt?”

“Because it’s a nice shirt, and I like it.”

“Get rid of it.”

“I will not. But, I’ll wear it less if that makes you feel better.”

“No. It doesn’t.”

You giggle.

“You’re being silly, Hyune.”

He looks away pointedly and you guide him back to face you by gripping his jaw. He swallows thickly as you, slowly, lean in to hover your face over his. You feel his shuddery breath on your lips, and bite down seductively to muffle the satisfied hum you release when you feel him hardening beneath you. He glares and scrunches his face with faux distaste as you dance your fingers up his stomach, then graze your thumb over one of his nipples. He shivers and finally lets the act drop, his annoyance melting into arousal as you peck shyly at his lips.

“Hyune,” You purr, “It’s okay if you’re jealous.”

“I-I know…”

You reward his cooperation with a teasing lick into his mouth, and carefully circle his nipple with light pressure. He whines and bucks up against you.

“You know how special you are to me. I love you, baby.”

“I love you, too,” He whimpers.

You respond with a sultry chuckle and begin stripping off your clothes.

There was a part of you that adored Hyunjin’s jealousy. It made him whiny, and needier for your affection. You would deny it vehemently if he ever called you out on it, but his desperation for your validation could have you dripping in seconds. So, it was a bit of a game between you. For the majority of the following week, Hyunjin would pretend he was unbothered when he saw you wearing that shirt. In turn, you would pretend that you were accidentally choosing it over all your other pajama options. While it may have been a bit unfair- or even mean- on your part to watch him squirm and stifle his complaints each time you pulled it on, it did not weigh on your conscience. You love each other; you trust he will let you know when his limit has been met.

And he does.

“Take it off.”

“Ha-ah,” Your eyes roll as you mumble back, “Hn?”

Your mind is fuzzy. Hyunjin has your ankles hooked over his shoulders and his cock pressed deep inside you. Your arms are limp above your head, fists clenching in the pillow supporting you. You tilt your head back with a moan as his hips rock against the back of your thighs in a steady rhythm.

“Baby, take it off, please.”

His fingers are curled in the hem of the white shirt, lifting it up as he ruts himself into your warmth. You huff out a laugh and tilt your head back to face him. You moan as you take in his heady groans and pleading eyes. His plump lips are parted to exhale a whine and his cheeks are impossibly flushed. You clench when he makes another pathetic noise and shoves his face into your neck. You smirk as your shirt gets rucked up to your breasts.

“I-I’m cold, Hyune.”

“Please. Please, please, please.”

He draws back and now you whine as his movements falter. 

“Hyunjin?”

He raises his head and pouts, eyes teary as he looks at you. You shudder, feeling your heat gush at the sight. You are teetering on the edge of an orgasm, and your mind is scrambled with the intent to chase that high. You roll your hips and he gives a shaky thrust in return.

“Don’t make me beg, darling. I can’t take it anymore.”

“Mhm! M’okay, take it- take it off, Hyune.”

His touch is deft as you lift your arms and he slips the shirt over your head. He throws it behind him, then draws a gasp from you when he repositions himself above you. Your mouth is agape in pleasure when he starts thrusting again, legs folded to your chest as he plows you into the mattress. You are thankful for the pillow, otherwise your head would be banging against the headboard. His tip almost kisses your cervix and you let out a breathless wail as humps into you, following each precise thrust with steadily rising groans. You reach up to thread your fingers in his hair and bring him in for a kiss. Your toes curl as his body melts into yours, and you finally reach your climax. You share more consuming kisses as he fucks you through your orgasm.

Hyunjin is soon following you, getting sloppier in his movements as his pleasure increases. He leans away, just enough to let you catch your breath. Your legs are trembling from the strain, and now from the overstimulation of his cock filling your fluttering cunt. He shakes his head when stray hairs stick to his skin and fall into his eyes, and you lovingly tuck each one out of the way.

“Hyune…”

“G-Good?”

“Mhm,” You nod and quiver, “M’good. Can’t think.”

He laughs and leans down to peck your lips. For a moment it looks like he has a quip lined up, but he just snuggles his head into your chest and lets out a ruined moan. You giggle as his thrusts stutter, then he lazily rolls his hips into you with a relieved hum. You let him ride out his release, kissing the crown of his head and playing with his hair as he lets out little moans and sighs of pleasure. When he finally stills, you reach between your bodies and gently push on his chest.

“Ah-ahn…”

“Hyune, you’re squishing me.”

“Hah, sorry.”

He groggily rises and lets your legs fall out of their tense position. You help him slip off the condom and discard it in the trash bin beside your bed. Your legs are numb, and you are a little shuddery all over from the lingering overstimulation. Hyunjin helps you get comfortable then melts into your waiting arms. You resume kissing and caressing him slowly as he tucks the two of you under the blanket and settles on top of you. He rubs his dumpling cheek over your heart and smiles when you giggle at him.

“I love you,” He murmurs, “You okay?”

You nod.

“I’m good, baby. I love you, too. You always make me feel so good.”

“Mhm, I’m sorry I was rough.”

Hyunjin massages your hips and gently squeezes your thighs. You hum and brush your fingers through his hair, tidying his mussed locks and ridding it of tangles.

“You don’t have to be sorry, babe. I loved it. You were perfect.”

“You’re perfect.”

He leans up to share a sweet kiss, stroking your cheek as your lips meld together. When you part, he pecks your chin then lets his lips trail down your neck. Your eyes flutter and you exhale peacefully as exhaustion overtakes you. Still, you stay awake when he brushes his lips over your ear and whispers to you.

“Thank you, for taking it off.”

“Mhm. Jealous baby.”

He whines at your teasing tone.

“You’re so mean.”

“And you’re ridiculous,” You murmur as you drift off, “But I still love you. You’re my favourite boy. My one and only.”

He nods and pecks your cheek. “I know. You’re my one and only, too, baby.”

The morning arrives peacefully. You wake up before your alarm, and enjoy a few minutes of admiring Hyunjin’s sleeping visage before you slip out of bed to get ready for the day. He is still sleeping after you finish your routine, completely undisturbed as you get dressed and check your phone. You still have some time before you have to go, so you sit beside him on the bed and card your fingers through his hair as you scroll through your phone. He stirs and looks up at you blearily when you run your thumb down the bridge of his nose.

“Mh?”

“Good morning, baby,” You peck his forehead, “I have to go out. I have a couple errands to run. I won’t be long, okay?”

“Mhhm.”

You tuck him in and kiss his temple as he nuzzles his face into a pillow. You giggle and leave with a fond smile.

Hyunjin wakes later, before you return, and pats the empty space beside him until he realizes you are not there. He rolls onto his back to look around and swipes a hand over his face as he fights his disorientation. Eventually, he vaguely remembers you kissing him goodbye earlier when he was somewhere between sleep and wakefulness. Unfortunately for him, he has no clue when that was or how much longer it will be until you get home. He lets out a frustrated sigh for no one but himself and eases himself out of bed. He pulls on his boxers, finding them among the pile of other clothes hastily discarded when the two of you fell into bed the night before, and shuffles to the bathroom.

He is a bit more awake when he returns to your bedroom, and pauses as it registers in his vision. White fabric, carelessly casted to the floor, sitting atop your panties and his hoodie. He scoffs at it, so it will know how he disapproves of it gracing his presence, and crosses the room to pick it up off the floor. He had not cared to look at the white tee any more closely once the idea of you wearing someone else’s clothes crossed his mine, but he is drawn to dissecting it now. He does not recognize the print on the front, some band or characters you never mentioned, but he does admire it a bit now. Ultimately, he understands why you kept the shirt on an objective level. It is nice, albeit a little worn, and there is nothing aesthetic-wise that he dislikes about it.

Hesitantly, he toys with it before bringing it to his nose. He gives a tentative sniff as he recalls your words from a week ago. I wear it all the time. I think it’s just always dirty. The shirt definitely did not smell like fresh laundry, or whatever he was expecting it to smell like. It smells like you. He cannot place it, there is a mix of familiar smells invading his senses; the remnants of your body wash, a hint of the candle you light after stressful days, the trace of your hot scent that drives him crazy during your intimate moments. His eyelids flutter and he groans, pressing the fabric to his nose and inhaling deeper. He recalls how comfortable the shirt was to wear before he learned of its origins, and begrudgingly pulls it on before crawling back in bed.

Missing you is torture for him during the rare moments he wakes up alone in your bed, but wearing your shirt settles his loneliness for a bit. That is, until he gets restless again. He could go find his phone, wherever he abandoned it when you two started getting handsy the night before, but he is already so comfortable under the covers. The only thing missing is you. He pulls the collar up over his nose and breathes in, momentarily subdued by the illusion of being enveloped by you. Then he remembers the vision of you from last night, wearing this same shirt and taking him so dutifully in this same bed. He groans and curses himself, reaching down to palm over his growing erection. The shirt, still too big for him, adds an extra obstacle between him and relief as he strokes himself leisurely. He shucks his boxers off under the blanket and reaches under the shirt to grasp his cock firmly. He groans and gives himself a rough squeeze before jerking himself slowly.

One hand holds the shirt up over his nose while the other roams over his length. He wishes it was you. He bucks his hips up at the thought of you touching him and puffs sharply into the shirt. He squirms, the tip of his cock rubs against the inside of the shirt with every stroke and creates a delicious amount of friction. It is so soft, gliding against him without any discomfort and very little resistance. His hips jump again and he has to clutch the base of his cock to stop himself from climaxing too quickly. He discovers that he can taste your scent stronger if he inhales through his mouth, and before too long is panting desperately as he thrusts into his fist. He is too hot now, and kicks off the blanket before resuming the rhythm of sucking in deep breaths while fucking into his own hand.

He is almost there now, possibly on the verge of cumming faster than any other time he has touched himself. He watches his cock strain under the shirt through his eyelashes, and whines when his precum begins wetting a spot in the white fabric. It sticks to him now, turning a bit translucent where his arousal beads through the material. His eyes pinch shut and he controls himself again. He does not want to finish so quickly. This feeling of pleasure is new to him, being smothered in your scent and comfort with the perfect sensation helping him get off. The only thing that might compare is actually getting to fuck you, but this is so different.

He cannot edge himself any longer, the pleasure that has been pooling has become too much. He begins jerking himself faster, ignoring the dry scrape of his unlubed palm on his shaft. He collects some of his precum and uses that to ease his motions. It helps just enough and allows him to reach his climax without further hesitation. He cries out and pants out a series of whimpering moans as his cum shoots out in thick spurts.

You lean in the doorway, watching his release soak through the fabric and further dampen the spot over his cock. You had been watching since he kicked the blanket away. In fact, you knew what he was doing when you entered the apartment and heard his soft moans ringing out in the silence. What you had not expected was walking in on the scene before you- but you were far from disappointed. You let Hyunjin recover a bit before speaking up. He tugs down the collar of the shirt and heaves in a much needed breath.

“I thought you didn’t like that shirt?”

He jumps and throws his palm over his face.

“Fuck.”

You laugh as his other hand slips guiltily out from under the shirt and falls limp on the bed, a bit of his cum sticking between his fingers. You saunter over to the bed, leaning in to run your hand up the inside of his leg as you walk up alongside him. He shivers and peeks at you through his fingers, chest rising and falling quickly in anticipation. Your hand takes his wrist from where it lies on the bed, you hold him firmly as you ease down to straddle his lap. You hold up his messy fingers, almost in admiration, and meet his gaze as you suck them into your mouth. He groans and lets his other hand drop so he can watch you lap each one clean. Your lip twitches as you guide his fingers over your lips, smearing your spit as you lead him to cup your cheek.

“Well?”

“Huh? Oh, the shirt, right,” You giggle and silently urge him to reply, “I-It’s alright. I still don’t like it.”

“Really? You seem to like it, at least a little bit.”

You pry the shirt up from where it has begun to stick to his cock and he hisses. You tilt your head and run your thumb over the patch of soiled fabric thoughtfully.

“O-Only because it smells like you.”

“Oh? Is that it? Are you still jealous?”

Hyunjin sets his jaw and avoids your gaze for a moment as he licks his lips nervously.

“I don’t know…”

“Be honest, Hyune.”

His eyes flick shyly to yours.

“It’s not easy just to… not be jealous. You know that.”

“Mhm…”

You move up his lap, not caring when you settle onto the dirty patch or his oversensitive cock. He watches with a worried frown as you brace your hands on either side of his head and lean over him.

“Wanna know a secret?”

“Yes,” He breathes, looking up at you expectantly.

“You’re jealous over someone who I never had feelings for, and who never got to touch me.”

His eyes widen then narrow.

“But, y-you said your ex left it!”

“Ah-ah- I said ‘someone’ left it behind. You were the one who assumed I was ever into that person.”

He puffs his cheeks and glares softly.

“You lied to me.”

“I didn’t lie, I just didn’t correct you. You shouldn’t have assumed you knew who forgot it.”

“You set me up.”

You laugh.

“I set you up? For what? To catch you jerking off in my shirt?”

“Yes!”

Your laughter intensifies and Hyunjin fights his smile. He looks embarrassed, face still flushed, but the twinkle in his eye as you become breathless above him seems to signify his ease with the circumstances. You sigh happily and lean down to reward him with a deep kiss, which he eagerly returns.

“How about we get you clean, hm?”

“Sounds good to me.”

You giggle and tug at the shirt playfully.

“And I’ll get our shirt washed up.”

“Yeah, you let it go too long. It’s way too dirty to wear now.”

You snort.

“Okay, actually, you can wash your own messes.”

He grins.

“I love you.”

“I love you too, Hyune.”

#stray kids fanfic #stray kids smut #hyunjin x reader #skz x reader #skz x y/n #skz x you #stray kids x reader #stray kids x y/n #stray kids x you #skz fanfic #skz reader insert #stray kids reader insert

[himbocoups]

˗ˋˏ multitasking ˎˊ˗ | 18+ Only

synopsis: multitasking only saves time when it's done right.

pairing: mingyu x reader (gn)

genre: smut

tags: college party, mention of drunk people, extremely conceited mingyu | big! dick! mingyu!, choking, crying, c*m eating, degradation, dirty talk, facesitting, handjob, mirror sex, oral (m receiving), pet names

wc: 1.1k

beta reader reviews: "i can't believe cocky gyu gave me butterflies in my pussy im so mad" - @bitchlessdino // "gonna have to take some deep breaths after that god damn" - @heartkyeom // "do you think if u put it in oatmeal it would taste good" - @onlyhuis // "...this fic made me clench the shit out of void and emptiness" - @multi-kpop-fanfics

message from nu: happy mingyu day!! this fic x concept has been sitting in my drafts for months now. what better day to release it than today? - nu ♡

himbocoups's masterlist

The sound of a plastic ping-pong ball bouncing click, clack, clonk against the wooden floorboards, and a couple of groans from the living room downstairs escape through the tiny aperture underneath the closed bedroom door. Still, the liveliness of the party downstairs, the rhythmic thumping of the EDM song playing from the speaker, and the screams and shouts of drunk college students envelope his bedroom door like a protective barrier - a natural sound-proofer for the noise coming from inside the bedroom. 

“Fuck you look so good today,” he grunts from above you. 

Even now, in this bedroom, everything in the world arrives in your ears in a muffled manner - muted, with little substance left to decipher. 

Kim Mingyu, who is a little too conventionally handsome for his own good, sits above your face. Thick muscular thighs crush both sides of your head as he leans his upper half over your naked body, planting himself firmly against his mattress, and pushing himself deeper into your mouth.  

“So, so good,” he moans into the open. 

An automatic reply attempts to escape your mouth as your hands fling onto his knees for support, “Thunfk yth.” But he peels your sweaty hands off his knees, plucking them between his thumb and pointer finger, and plops them to the side despite your feeble response. 

Tongue swirls around his round and smooth tip, licking a long stripe down his shaft. You moan, eyes rolling to the back of your head when you feel his veins against your tongue, the minuscule grooves created from veins underneath the soft epidermis, and the salty-musky taste mixed with your saliva. You swallow his taste like the sweet lukewarm soda in a red plastic cup to cut any bit of bitterness that coats your mouth and throat. 

He doesn’t care about you. You know he doesn’t care about you. You’re just a random stranger at a party who is remotely good enough to even be considered a candidate for Mingyu. 

Now, even when you’re sucking his dick from below him, he’s not staring at you. Instead, he stares at his naked torso reflected in the mirror, flexing his biceps - watching them contract and relax - and smiling at how handsome he looks tonight. 

To him, you’re more or less an afterthought. There is nothing in this bedroom that intrigues him more than himself. And when he finally sees you between his thick and glistening thighs, he can only think of one thing to say: “Take me in deeper and I’ll let you be seen near me when we go back downstairs.” 

Incomprehensible is the thought of how you can take him even further down your throat; you somehow open your mouth wider and dig the back of your head further into the mattress. But it’s huge. It’s fucking huge. From the base of his cock to his ego, Kim Mingyu is fucking massive in every aspect of his body. And he assails your throat from above, pushing in, pulling out, angling in, and angling out. 

The fact that you’re gagging against his cock, struggling under his touch actually annoys him severely. He knows that he is Kim Mingyu. And if anything, you’re the one who should be trying to accommodate him. If it weren’t for the fact that he could see the shape of his organ outlined against the inside of your throat, he would already be out the door. And seeing himself move inside your throat only fuels his ego and makes him hornier than ever. 

Purring, he takes time to trace his right finger pointer along the outline of his cock, mumbling about how gorgeous he looks. Lauding his size, he only stops when he feels the pressure against his fingertip. The way his lips stretch thin, eyes open widely, and pearly whites show is diabolical. And he has to stop himself from orgasming when he realizes he can feel his cock through your stretched throat and on the pad of his fingertip. Because the only thing Mingyu loves more than sex is himself. 

This new discovery causes him to twitch in your throat. And moaning in response, your throat vibrates around his cock like an electronic toy. This chain reaction leads him to grab onto your throat, covering his embossed outline. To him, it feels like he’s holding himself in the shower - the warmth and silkiness of your inside like the hot water that cascades over his Adonis. Brazen with the ache between his thighs, he takes matters into his own hands, rubbing and pumping himself along your throat. 

Deep and open moans protrude from him like a beautiful low vibrato note on a double bass. Thighs feeling weak from his arousal, he sits on your face to ease his trembling thighs. The newfound action feels so good that his entire body tightens like a coil ready to spring. High building with each calculated yet languid stroke along your vibrating throat, Mingyu’s eyes squeeze shut as his breath hitches and staggers. 

Salty tears roll down your face, and the feeling of him getting himself off via your throat causes you to scream and tremble as you convulse without his touch. You’re trying your best to accommodate his size and the fact that he is currently facesitting and using your throat to masturbate. Yet your climax comes out of nowhere, forcing him out of your mouth while you finish as you get off on the fact that you’re being used as his toy. He seems to pay you no mind as he quickly pumps himself over your body, hissing as he spills his milky honey over your chest - pumping himself empty while using his other hand to massage his balls. 

Purposely, he taps his throbbing and dripping organ against your forehead as if to tell you he isn’t finished with you. But he isn’t a complete asshole. He sees how you’re struggling to recover, so he lets go of his balls so that he can dip his thumb into the pool on your chest and offer his nectar to your lips. And you suck the salty liquid off his thumb, taking his digit in your mouth and swirling your tongue as if you are searching for sustenance to satiate your thirst. 

He plucks his thumb from your wet lips when he feels like it, gloating at how loudly you whine for him. Vainglorious as he is, he knows a single gesture, the twirling of his pointer finger, would immediately get you to go on your knees. Once his organ casts a shadow over your face, he tells you to suck. This time, he requests you to spell his name as you bob your head. And if you’re good enough, then just maybe, he’ll forgive you for spitting him out while you came.

Copyright © 2023 Himbocoups. All rights reserved.

#✏️ ━ himbocoups #svthub #seventeen smut #svt smut #svtsmut #mingyu smut #kim mingyu smut #seventeen x reader #svt x reader #mingyu imagines #kim mingyu imagines #seventeen imagines #svt imagines #svtimagines

[gayzyforyou]

𝙰 𝚃𝚛𝚎𝚊𝚝 𝙵𝚘𝚛 𝚈𝚘𝚞, 𝙺𝚒𝚝𝚝𝚢

🃟 🃑 🂾 🃝 🂻 🃊 🃟 🃑 🂾 🃝 🂻 🃊 🃟 🃑 🂾 🃝 🃟 🃑 🂾 🃝 🂻

18+, MDNI

Content Tags/⚠️: porn with plot, smut, slight angst, voyerism, reader has a vag(gie), masochist reader, pet names, degration, secret sex, bdsm (sorta), sadism (thank alastor), soft sex (husk), rough sex (also husk), claws, biting, furry stuff?, fingering, tongue play, oral sex, squirting, kissing n smooching, knotting

🃟 🃑 🂾 🃝 🂻 🃊 🃟 🃑 🂾 🃝 🂻 🃊 🃟 🃑 🂾 🃝 🃟 🃑 🂾 🃝 🂻

Summary: Husk has hidden interests in you, which Alastor overheard once upon a time. You're new at the hotel and have been teasing the deer demon lately, who now has a score to settle with you. He can't beat you at a sexual game, though, so he has his favorite fuzzy soul help him in his endeavors. Consensually, of course. Just with Alastor's manipulative, slightly sadistic way of things. Aka he watches to piss off Husk for fun, and also makes a mess of you, also for fun. Because he's Alastor.

"Husker!" Alastor jovially begins, appearing beside Husk behind the bar counter quicker than he can process. Making him struggle not to drop a glass for a moment, sighing loudly at Alastor swinging an arm around him.

"Some space and a greeting would do you good, you know," Husk huffs under his breath, going back to cleaning the glass.

A growl leaves him watching Alastor poke at the glass, picking it out of his claws with ease and sauntering around him casually. Which Husk knew by now meant he was contemplating. Wanting, needing. Something.

"What the fuck do you want, Alastor? Or are you going to let me do my job? This shitty job you gave me,"

"Oh, speaking of jobs, my good friend! I have a little job I need you to do, actually. So nice of you to suggest," Alastor beamed with a wider grin, watching Husk pinch his nose and groan angrily.

All while Alastor tapped the glass in his hand, moving away casually when Husk tried to take it. Quietly testing the waters. Knowing, at the same time, Alastor could drown him in those waters any minute.

"Fucking Christ, I knew you needed something. What?" Husk growled. Tricking the slowly growing fear inside him. Hissing to himself at Alastor moving the glass just away from his grasp in one, little swift movement. Forcing him to pay full attention.

"Well, friends know each other well, do they not? Oh, and they do help out one another too, don't they?" Alastor teased.

Husk peered him down incredulously, brows narrowed. Eye twitching. But internally, trying to decipher just what exactly the man wanted. Knowing the man could run circles around him verbally any day, every day if he so pleased.

"Yeah, sure. What do you want your 'friend' to help you with?"

Alastor chuckled at the quiet desperation in Husk's words. Overlooking the sarcasm, instead seeing his attempt at a strong front more weak than anything. Amusing. Snickering, gliding right back over next to Husk behind the counter.

He leaned just slightly against the edge of table top, looking down over Husk. Grinning sharper than usual. Letting him yank the glass away from his hand.

"Always so eager, Husker, hm. And to serve me nonetheless. I think this good, loyal kitty deserves a treat, yes?"

. . .

Husk choked on air. Trying not to drop the glass, again. He looked up at Alastor with an indistinguishable expression, too many emotions wreaking havoc on his mind at once.

"E-Excuse me?"

"A treat for you, kitty." Alastor very plainly corrected, eyes closed following his wide, pleased smile.

Like what he said sounded remotely normal and not completely suspicious.

"What the fuck is that supposed to---" Husk sputtered, Alastor tapping on the glass with a snicker, his voice cutting him off.

"After you're done with your job here, come upstairs. Your treat is waiting,"

That was the last thing Husk was told before Alastor walked off. Up the stairs and away from his view before he could protest, demand, ask, anything before he was silenced.

Husk didn't know if he wanted to finish his job slower or faster.

He held the glass tightly, scrubbing it harder than usual.

"Hmm..." Alastor begins in a low, slowly drawn out hum.

Feeling you shift in his lap, restless. His hum turning into a little tune he sings to himself as he moves.

Alastor whirred along as he pulled his cane back, tugging at your tail he tied to it. Drinking in the strained whine that leaves your lips at the slight pain of the gesture.

"Be fuckin'...gentle..." Husk grumbles, more in a protective growl than anything. Alastor snickering at the sight.

Husk was still processing how he got himself in this mess. But the taste of your arousal on his tongue, sweeter and more intoxicating that any alcohol he'd ever sampled, made it worth the whole pot.

♤♡♢♧

Though, Husk can't help but keep replaying the situation on loop---him following Alastor to a private room, honestly scared the man would come onto him or something. Knowing he hated him, infuriatingly amusing to the man. So he was preparing to shoot that plane down as harshly as he could without having his soul torn apart.

But seeing...you, waiting there patiently and lighting up when you saw him, he suddenly wanted to stick by Alastor strictly, no separation on his mind. Now knowing that would mean letting The Radio Demon get alone time with you, which painted nothing but bad pictures in his head.

He didn't know why you were there at first until Alastor spoke. Assuring him his 'treat' was right in front of him.

I mean, Husk knew you liked to play around with the guests, flirting and suggesting frisky times as a way to ease tension. He was as fine with your openness in relationships as he was with Angel. But it was something else seeing you so willing to do something that intimate with him at a moment's notice. With Alastor watching, nonetheless.

"Are you really okay with...him, watching us? Possibly...touching you?" Husk asked, wanting to assure that you knew what was ahead.

"Yeah, Husk, but only if you are. I just think it's kinda hot...but I also know what I need to, I promise," You playfully giggled, but also assured, moving over to whisper in Husk's ear. "He won't get what he wants. I just wanna see him get a little tiny bit pissed."

Alastor smiled harshly at the sight of their secret words, moving you back by your arms to stand before him. Husk shooting him daggers.

"Husker, a treat is of course still just a treat. You don't have to eat it if you simply don't want to," Alastor explained in a faux sigh. "Just don't claw me up if I find someone else to eat it, okay?"

The very obvious teasing sarcasm in Alastor's voice made a Husk's brow twitch, his body moving over to your side immediately. Almost as if to fend Alastor away, like a predator stalking prey.

"Are you okay with it, Husk? If it's too uncomfortable, we can stop." You explained, trying to assure him. Making sure his decision was one he actually wanted.

One look in your eyes told Husk enough. There was excitement, teasing intent toward Alastor that...he almost admired. At the same time, deep care for him. A care he didn't feel enough, but was learning to accept in this hotel.

Despite being in the presence of someone so terrifying---you smiled at him like it was nothing. Everything he wanted it to be, nothing at all. Not the problem that it was. He wished he could view it that way. Seeing you even just playing with the idea somehow brought his spirits right back up.

And damn it, before things even started you made a fool out of Alastor in your head. Tricking your own fears. He didn't know if it was overconfidence or pure stupidity, but he found something endearing in it. Something he sometimes didn't have the grit to do as boldly. And above everything, he trusted you. He wouldn't trust his darker fears of Alastor over you, he had enough shadows in his life.

"If {y/n} is here, and they want to, it's alright by me. You don't get much input in that matter, Alastor," Husk chuckled with a affectionate grin, moving over to hold you by your hips. Something in you making him drunk on a sort of confidence that tricked his strongest fears. One that would definitely get him in trouble one day. "It's bad business leaving such a wonderful soul waiting. You should consider that Alastor, tell me clearer next time,"

Alastor laughed away the frustration brewing inside him at Husk's words. He didn't know what you whispered. Only that it was merely another thing he'd make sure to find out sooner or later, snuff out as he sees fit.

With the snap of his fingers, you and him were on the bed. Alastor cradling your head in his lap. Looking up at Husk with a tilt of his head. Who was still standing, whipping his head around to look at you both. Watching Alastor slowly moving his hand down to pull up your skirt.

"Your treat is waiting~" Alastor sang devilishly.

Husk quickly pounced onto the bed, caging you with his body and hissing deep in his throat at Alastor's hand, which he pushed away.

"This is the job you wanted me to do for you, right? Cruel of you to call someone so sweet a chore. You want me to do your dirty work? Gladly," Husk growled.

"I've got you, {y/n}. You'll get your fun and games. And you know I'm good at games, don't you?" Husk purred, leaning in and running his lips softly against your cheek, taking in your dizzying scent.

"If you don't like something, tell me or tap me. Otherwise..." Husk gravelly murmured, his lips on yours without a moment to spare.

His claws traced over where Alastor had touched your skirt. Tossing it up to expose your tights, drawing the sharp edges of his fingers over your thighs squeezed by the thin material. Flicking a digit slowly over the plump imprint of your pussy against the fabrics hiding it from his gaze.

It was easy forgetting about Alastor with such a sight before his sore eyes, and it made him feel even better knowing the demon was probably watching it happen. His presence being put on hold.

Alastor scoffed lowly at the display, moving to pull Husk off your lips. All with a simple finger beneath his chin.

"Don't play with your food now, Husker. Eat it properly,"

♤♡♢♧

Soon enough, Husk refocused on the task at hand. At his tongue, more like. The prickly muscle licking up every drop that drooled from your aching core. His eyes trailing over your now naked form.

"H-Husk...please," You hiccuped, voice shaking and weak. Alastor tugged on his cane again. The base of your tail shooting a sharp, sweet pain that mixed with every sensation Husk guided you through. Making your eyes foggy, breathing coming out in whimpers that only made Alastor's grin grow.

Alastor thrummed a laugh seeing Husk move to tug at his pants. Which was now at least the seventh time he'd tried.

"You'll have to be patient, Husker. That thing can wait to put itself to use, yes? Do your job...thoroughly,"

Husk tried to ignore the sneer in Alastor's voice, snarling to himself lowly while moving his tongue back to your clit. Holding your thighs apart tightly, knowing you wanted his cock more than anything. Despite having came several times already.

He loved every last taste of you on his tongue. But feeling you squirm, hearing you beg for him to fill you, made his heart ache.

"Look at me, {y/n}," Husk rasped, licking a long slow stripe against your sensitive bud of nerves. Feeling your legs twitch and shake shamelessly. Melting at the sound of you sweetly gasping, a tug at his head following suit.

You look down at him, teary eyed. Despite Alastor tilting your head back to avert your gaze.

Abruptly, you mewl out loud feeling Husk slip two of his digits inside, grinding the sharp edges against every sweet spot he can find.

"Husk...haah, you're..." You whimper, hips arching into his thrusts. The sound of his heavy breaths making you wetter. Alastor tilts your head further back and up again, tracing a finger along your throat.

"Talented, isn't he? He can do a lot more than take down scum and pour drinks. Hmm...which makes the two of you, seems you can take more than you look to..." Alastor smirked with a pleased coo, snickering at Husk's disapproval.

"So obedient you are, Husk can learn a thing or two on that matter," He trailed off with an even bigger smile than usual, watching you, who he knew as innocent instead donning such a sinfully shameless display.

"Shut it, Alastor..."

"See?" He sneered.

Husk moved swiftly to get his lips close enough to yours, hiding your face from Alastor and kissing away any thoughts of him. Slipping his tongue soaked with your arousal right in your mouth.

He angled his fingers more, chuckling against your lips feeling you cum again. Unable to deny how strained his cock was, already fully up and leaking against his pants. Aching painfully to be inside you.

Everything was making him lose it. Your hands gripping his back, holding fists of his fur with white knuckles when you weren't leaving scratches. Clawing at him for dear life after cumming so many times, and still taking more. Moaning like an animal, whispering pleas for his cock, for his fingers to hit deeper and harder. He couldn't take it.

He drew the two soaked digits from you, holding his hand up to Alastor.

"Thorough enough for you? Or are you having that much fun watching?" Husk huffed firmly.

Alastor clicked his tongue, pulling up your head away from Husk again and inspecting your expression.

There it was. Complete and utter weakness, defeated and pathetic. Just what he needed.

"Go ahead, Husker. You can have the rest of your trea---"

Before he could finish, Husk was pulling you away from Alastor and up against his legs. Spreading yours and letting his aching length spring out. Moving in a haze to push it right into your tight, soaked hole.

Feeling you clench onto him the moment he sunk inside made him groan. Moving his hips almost immediately, hearing every gasp and moan of pleasure leaving your lips right against his ear. You kissed it, feeling it flick, feeling his sharp teeth quickly sink into your shoulder to quiet his pleased sounds.

Husk's pace was exactly what you needed after waiting for so long. Fast, hard, heavy thrusts that slapped your skin. Made your legs go numb and stomach twist with warmth. The overwhelming ecstasy and all consuming feeling that left you breathless.

"Cumming...! Husk...haah...I---" You cried out weakly, his hands still sticky with your scent delving right into your mouth, hushing you while his hips moved faster and faster. Making sure no one in the hotel could have a chance of interrupting your moment together.

Husk felt like he was high, feeling you squirt against his cock. Crying out against his fingers, tongue licking his digits so needy he almost forgot you two weren't alone.

His inches twitched restlessly inside you. He couldn't help but hold your body close, feeling his mind spiraling at the addictive feeling. Your walls sucking on him with every wave of your orgasm. Groaning, almost moaning at the sickeningly sweet sensation, Husk's own release tore through him.

He growled out at the feeling, burying himself in your scent. His hips thrusting slowly, stuffing rope after rope of his thick cum deep into your warm insides. Slicking your walls with every ounce of his seed.

Husk let you lay back softly, resting. Trying to calm down the knot swelling inside you. Whimpers drawing from your lips at the intense stretch.

"...s' okay sweetheart. It'll go down...I've got you,"

Husk ran his palm over your stomach, soothing the ache of his knot. Catching his breath.

.ılılıll|̲̅̅○̲̅̅|̲̅̅=̲̅̅|̲̅̅○̲̅̅|llılılı.

Not noticing Alastor moving your head up again, looking in your eyes. Sneering. Communicating exactly what he wanted without words.

Husk heard you speak but didn't actually hear it. Only static. His nerves flaring up, eyes shooting to look up at Alastor.

He was gone.

"What the fuck?!" Husk exclaimed, quickly moving closest to you as he looked around. "Where...the fuck did that bastard go? What did he do?"

"Safe word. He made me use it. It's okay Husk...it's just his usual power play. He wanted me to say it,"

"For what?" Husk asked.

"Just a stupid...bet,"

"What did you bet?!" Husk exasperated. Worried beyond belief.

"Nothing! Just my soul---"

"WHAT?!"

"I'm joking, Husk. It was just...ugh, it's kind of embarrassing now, actually," You sigh, covering your face.

"What is it? Tell me. I'll...I'll help you," Husk trailed off, trying to be assuring.

You sigh, loudly.

"I need to....ughhh...hunt his breakfast for him...for a month...and meal prep. All those disgusting meals,"

Husk tried not to, but he wheezed a little.

"Don't you laugh at me! We're on the same boat now..." You exasperate.

"Fine...fine...I'm sorry. I'm relieved...that's all it was," Husk chuckles, moving to rest himself in the crook of your neck, purring deeply.

"Don't bet anything else, got it?"

"Okay," You sigh, hugging him close.

Your chests rise and fall together, his purring soothing you both until the thought of that bet drifts away, into a feeling of just the two of you.

#hazbin hotel x reader #husk x reader #alastor x reader #alastor is in hell for a reason #alastor is a circus #ace man meets wanting to see someone fucked #literally 😈 not physically this time #gold star

[best-fictional-band-poll]

Submissions closed!

Hi everyone & welcome to Best Fictional Band Poll!

Submissions are now closed! Complete list of bands in this Google Doc. Asks are open, but please don't submit any more bands - they will just be deleted.

If you think I missed your propaganda, shoot me an ask or DM - I've already reblogged several that I missed the first time because people messaged me!

Information about the first round of polls is here! Information about round 2 is here! tags for just the polls are "#Round 1" and "#Round 2"

Poll Rules, FAQ, Brackets under the cut!

Poll Rules!

Round One - Vote for your favourite! There are four groups of 32 bands, I will run two rounds of 1v1 for each group before merging them into the final bracket because I can't run 64 polls at once. If you don't see your blorbo, don't panic, they're in another group.

There is no see results button. Vote for a band based on the propaganda (or the name). Pick a side!

Please DO: reblog the polls into your fandom circles/ encourage your friends to vote/post propaganda in the poll notes or make your own posts and tag me! Bribe your mutuals!

Please do NOT: harass other fans, start discourse, send threats etc. be civil! joking threats are STRONGLY discouraged I'm too autism for that shit and you risk being blocked.

I am tagging media for each band, so to find your blorbos in the flood just search the tags :D. Happy voting!

FAQs:

Polls are tagged by round! Current polls are tagged #round 1.

I AM NOT EXCLUDING BANDS FROM "PROBLEMATIC MEDIA". this is because if I start to do that then I have to make moral judgement on EVERYTHING I include. this is not up for debate.

Propaganda should be added directly to polls by fans when they go up, because there's too many bands currently for me to add it directly to posts! I will reblog it though.

I need opinions/help disambiguating/deciphering asks sometimes, these will be tagged #needs help - please help if you can!

Brackets!

Group 1

Group 2

Group 3

Group 4

Combined/Final Bracket

#tournament poll #tumblr tournament #tumblr polls #polls #fictional band #music #bands #Round 1 #Round 2

[lavendermunson]

Little secret, big secret - steve harrington

chapter 2 of miss americana and the heartbreak prince

summary The little secret it's not so little anymore since you tell your best friend. She gets to the questioning part but you can't focus on anything else but Steve.

tags famous!singer!reader and famous!baseball-player!steve. Robin, Nancy, and rockstar!Eddie make their appearance! the only warning is consumption of alcohol again, they are adults 'kay.

w.c 2.7k

series masterlist | previous chapter | next chapter

When Sunday comes, you sit in the living room of your house in LA. A generous bowl of ice cream, complete with crushed cookies and whipped cream, sat before you while the tv showed the sports channel. You couldn’t quite call yourself a sports fan, but there’s a reason you are tuned in – you wanted to see his face again.

Pictures as nice as they were, simply didn’t do him any justice. You needed to see that genuine smile, and maybe, just maybe, when the camera focused on him, you could see that smile you liked so much. 

Friday night was one of the best nights in your life, for sure. But between all the giggles and your racing heartbeat, you’d forgotten to ask for his number. It’s the only thing you regret from that night. Because when you let your mind wander back to that backyard, your entire body quivered with excitement.

His lips are soft against yours. The whiskey lingered on his lips but he had a sweet natural taste. His hands are squeezing your face with just the right amount of pressure, sending you to the moon. You wished that night would have lasted forever.

As cheers erupted from the TV, you got out of your pool of thoughts as the game started. The stadium’s music fills the place as the teams line up to greet the crowd. The camera pans from the fans to the players, capturing their energy.

The announcer’s voice presents with enthusiasm to the MVP – “Most Valuable Player,” which you quickly deciphered. Perhaps you needed to get your hands on a baseball magazine to stop feeling so lost.

When the camera zooms in on his face, you see his big pretty smile. He waves to the crowd, everyone chants his name clapping and jumping. They love him, he is a big deal. 

His eyes make contact with the camera lens, and you blush, feeling he is watching directly at you. He waved at the camera, slightly winking. He winks at you, he knows you are watching.

“Good luck, Steve” you mumble, grabbing your bowl of ice cream and getting comfortable to watch the game. 

—

Your cat jumps at you, falling on your tummy and waking you up. You weren’t sure when you fell asleep, but you glanced at the TV, and the game was over. Steve’s smile is bright as he celebrates with his teammates - they have won.

You felt guilty for falling asleep, but thankfully the sports channel has a segment that analyzed the game's best moments afterward. So that’s what you focus on for now, watching Steve being a natural talent, swinging the bat like he is the king of the stadium while everyone is enamored by his smile.

Your phone dings for the first time in the night. You sigh, the bright screen a bit harsh on your sleepy eyes as you check the text from an unknown number.

unknown: “hey :)”

You try to guess who it is but nothing comes to mind. Your friends are all saved in your contact list, you haven’t made any friends recently. Then it hits you like a wave, it was him. You try to match his chill tone, hiding your excitement like a little kid on christmas.

you: hi, who are you?

unknown: did you see how I winked at you on tv?

you: oh, Steve. yes, I saw it!

You think about a clever way to save his contact before he responds.

you: if you couldn’t already tell… I blushed right away

little secret: Really?? I wish i’d see that, i like it when you blush

you: next time I will send you a pic, hope is not a big of a distraction :’)

little secret: Are you kidding? I was thinking about you all the time and i did good

you: I saw, congratulations! You are amazing!

little secret: Thank you, gorgeous. Hey, my team wants to go out for drinks but, can I see you over the week? 

His charm even shows over texts.

you: Sure, uh is this a date?

little secret: Absolutely, I have something in mind. I hope you are free on thursday

you: I am, see you then

little secret: Can’t wait, good night beautiful 

you: Goodnight, handsome ♡

You lock your phone after the text and lay back on the couch, holding your phone to your chest with the biggest smile on your face. You are going on a date, you haven’t been to one in a long time, it’s something exciting but also makes you nervous. You know you can't tell anyone about this, it has to remain a secret. But if anyone could keep a secret, it was your best friend, Robin.

You quickly send her a text, inviting her to your place tomorrow. She says yes, assuring you that she’d catch the next flight to LA as soon as possible. You’d mentioned you had good news and bad news about a boy, and she couldn’t wait to talk to you.

__

Robin was about to have a heart attack over the news. Her jaw nearly hit the floor and you remained frozen in your seat. She leaned in, placing her hands on your shoulders, giving you a swift shake. 

“This is fucking insane!”

“So?” you ask.

“I mean, everything sounds like something out of a movie and I didn't think you were into athletes? You only date actors mostly…”

“Robs” you interrupt her before she says something even more embarrassing than your dating life.

“Yeah, it’s great but you… are you sure of this? Can you keep it a secret when both of you are being constantly harassed by paparazzi? And are you sure it’s worth all the trouble? Are you sure that he is good for you and not just looking for his fifteen minutes of fame?”

All of these questions make your head spin. You didn't think about it like this. Like a serious thing. You were having fun texting Steve in the morning before you had to pick Robin at the airport. But she is right, all of this feels like it belongs to a movie. Deep down, you believe it could really work.

“No, that’s why we are keeping it a secret and I believe we can make it. He is a good guy, Robin”

“You have known him for what? Three days? How can you be sure? I don’t want to see you crying over a douchebag again”

And she is right again. Her lawyer-like ability comes in handy when she is giving you advice. You grew up together, both of you have a great career but she has never left your side and always supports you. As your best friend, she just wants to protect you too.

“I’ll take it slow. I will be so careful, I promise” You smile at her, and she hugs you tight.

“You have to think about it with the seriousness it requires”

“Can you stop talking like you are in a courtroom?”

She laughs. “Tell me you haven’t written a song about him”

You pulled away from the hug, gently. Your gaze falls over to your lap to hide your cheeks, which are tinted pink.

“Oh, you did… in two days?”

“I wrote it all at midnight and finished around two. I still need the melody”

“Your fans are going to go crazy when they find out” She bumps your arm slightly with her fist.

“Now, what are we doing? There is a concert at night of that metal band you like”

“Corroded Coffin?” she shakes her head in disbelief.

“Yeah, them. Do you want to go? I can get special tickets” 

“Of course. I can get special tickets too”

“How?” you ask.

“I’m friends with the lead singer, I helped them with some legal issues. You know, rock stars and their passion for destroying hotel rooms”

“Then what are we waiting for? Let’s go!” you take her hand and lead her to your room, where you can get changed while dancing. You pop out a bottle of champagne to celebrate her company. You two are usually busy with work,  but it’s always good to see her.

—

The concert is great. It’s one of those private concerts, with no cameras, no obsessive fans taking thousands of pictures, and no one from the media. You enjoy the music as you sit next to Robin, who chats with Corroded Coffin’s manager, Nancy.

You want to ask for a fancy drink, not just a beer as usual. You watch the bottles of whiskey and just as magic, you hear a voice.

“Soft spot for whiskey?” He sits on a stool beside you and asks the bartender for two cups of whiskey.

“Steve!” your first instinct is to hug him, you throw your arms around his body and he wraps his on your waist.

“Hey, gorgeous. What are you doing in a metal concert?”

The bartender hands you both your drink, uninterested in your interaction and you keep your hands on Steve’s arms. 

“My friend-” you turn around but Robin is nowhere to be found. She’s probably somewhere with the band’s manager you met before. “She worked for this band when they had a problem with their hotel rooms”

“Yeah, typical rockstar shit” he laughs, drinking his whiskey and never taking his eyes off you. 

“What are you doing here? I thought you were resting,  you had a great game yesterday” 

He smiles as bright as ever hearing your praise.  “Thank you” he nods. “I’m friends with the lead singer, we used to go to high school together”

“Oh, you guys have been friends for a while?” 

“No, not at first, but now we’re pretty good friends. I’m glad he moved out of town and now he is a big star. He’s had this band since before we met, and  I’m proud of them” 

“You sound like a great friend. You are a big star too!” you tell him, taking a sip of whiskey to encourage you. 

“Look who's talking, the biggest star ever,” he chuckles, his hand finds the edge of your stool and pulls it closer to him. Your body loses its balance and Steve places a hand on your back to catch you. His arms are strong, and his touch on your body feels just right. He is looking at you like a masterpiece in a museum. 

You blush immediately, your heart thumps against your chest.

The music gets inevitably louder, you turn to watch the stage. Steve keeps his arm around your waist for the rest of the night. Everyone jumps and head bangs with the rhythm of the music, this is nothing compared to your shows. It’s a different energy, it’s good and it’s fun and it makes you laugh. Steve turns to see you smile, he grins and leaves a kiss on your cheek. 

Noticing no one is paying attention to you, you get brave and turn to kiss him. Your hand is pressed against his cheek while his lips move softly against yours, he squeezes your body with his arm pressing you against his chest. This is a different kiss, it’s quicker and it feels hotter.

Robin’s question lingered in your mind. Are you moving too fast? Is this going to work? But you know she had a point, you promised to be careful.

You break the kiss, leaning your forehead to touch his. His breath mixing with yours, he feels something is wrong but decides not to ask.

The place goes louder as Corroded Coffin finishes his shows, the lights go off and that’s when you get back to your seat. Steve decides it’s not really the place or time to talk about what’s going on. He’d figure it out soon, even if it meant losing some sleep over it.

“I have to go get my friend, it was lovely to see you again” You reach for his hand and he takes yours, giving a gentle squeeze. You get closer to his face as before, only to press a sweet peck on his cheek  “I’ll see you on Thursday, Steve”

The lights are now bright so people can find their way out. It makes both of you nervous that people can see you now. Steve doesn’t care much, getting close to you and leaving a peck on your cheek, just like you did. He hugs you wrapping his arms around your neck and getting close to your ear to whisper “Have a sweet night, beautiful” 

His soft but deep tone makes the butterflies in your stomach flutter. It was as if honey dripped from his mouth.

You smile as Robin gets to you, perfect timing. Steve walks off to join Eddie backstage, and you head home with Robin to have a perfect sleepover for old time's sake.

__

“Are you sure about this?” Nancy asks, as Eddie gets lost in his six pack of beer that some groupie left in his dressing room.

“I am! She is amazing and beautiful” Steve insisted. He knew he’d only officially met you for three days now, but he had had a crush on you for a long time. “I made a move, and things are moving swiftly”

“What’s wrong with that, Nance? Big boy is finding the love of his life!” Eddie helps Steve, trying to make him feel better. However Nancy keeps her arms crossed in front of her chest. He knows Steve has a big heart, but sometimes he can be so out of touch with his emotions, it tends to hurt people.

“Nothing is wrong if he’s sure he can take care of her,” she says, both of the boys in the room glance at their friend like little kids being yelled at by their mom. “And what is Hopper going to say about it? You know he doesn’t want you distracted from your games” 

Hopper had taken Steve under his wing, training him after he recognized Steve had talent. The four of them left behind so much in Hawkins to follow their dreams, they just can’t risk it. 

“He doesn’t mind. I’ll be okay, really” Steve tried to reassure them.

But Steve knows it is going to cost. Because his ego can get to him, he needs to be the best to show everyone he is capable of it. He likes the winning, the praise, the trophies. He couldn’t handle losing. He can’t afford getting distracted.

“And she is not just another girl in town for a one night stand” Eddie adds. “She is the prettiest, most loved, and most talented girl in… the whole world actually” 

Then there was you, the girl Steve had fallen for in just one night. The girl who had him waking up earlier than usual to send you a ‘Good morning, gorgeous’ text as soon as the sun peeks from his window. He loved it when your sleepy ‘Good morning, handsome ♡’ showed up in his notifications and he would reply as soon as he finished off with training at his home gym. 

God. It has happened one time and Steve wants it to be forever. But it would be so much better if instead of you waking up with a text, you wake up next to him. He can already imagine you sleepy face, your disheveled hair falling on your naked shoulders after a night of– Earth to Steve!

“Exactly, but only if the secret plan works. If this goes public and you hurt her, everyone is going to make your life miserable, starting with her best friend”

“Ooohhh, and that’s when we leave Big boy alone and focus on little Nance, getting a date with that fancy lawyer I see?” Eddie teases, Steve sighs in relief that the conversation shifted away from him.

“I do have a date with her. But Eds, please stop destroying hotel rooms” Nancy says, and Eddie couldn’t help but chuckle at their playful banter.

Steve laughs at his friends and how they start bickering, but an uncomfortable feeling of anxiety sits right in his stomach. This has to work, he better not fuck it up. He likes you, he wants you.

tags @eddiesguitarskills (comment to join the tag list!!)

I hope you like this series, feedback is appreciated! don't forget to REBLOG TO SUPPORT THE AUTHOR! . ♡

if you want to collaborate and make a story about rockstar!Eddie in this universe you are more than welcome. I saw this idea a few weeks ago and I loved it

#꒰ leia writes ⊹ ㅤ꒱ #steve harrington imagine #steve harrington angst #steve x you #steve harrington x reader #steve harrington fluff #steve harrington au #steve harrington x fem!reader #steve harrington x you #steve harrington x female!reader #steve harrington x y/n #steve harrington x y/n fluff #steve harrington x y/n smut #steve harrington x fem #steve harrington x female reader smut #leia’s ma&thbp #singer!reader #baseball!steve harrington #꒰ leia's steve ⊹ ㅤ꒱

[tieronecrush]

hot & heavy

chapter ten: a hidden gem, my own goldmine

neighbor!joel x f!reader

series masterlist

series rating: E (18+ MDNI)

series summary:

over the course of three summers, joel miller becomes woven into your life. the first summer is spent falling for him; nannying his daughter and sneaking around with him in a burning love affair. you know how you feel about joel, he isn’t so sure about how it all is gonna work. the second summer is brief. a month spent at home after graduation and before you move to boston for your dream job. one look at you, one time hearing your voice, and joel is hooked again. he pines over you for that month, but you think — how is long distance of over a thousand miles going to work for a single dad? the third summer, you return home burnt out and pride bruised from your post-grad life. you need time to feel at home again, like your complete self, so you’ve come back home with no return ticket booked. it’s only a matter of time before joel seeks you out, slowly spending more time with you. without an inevitable end to the summer looming over you both, what chances are you willing to take?

word count: 10k

warnings: NO OUTBREAK (don’t need to worry about the mushies), no use of y/n, inexperienced reader, age gap (joel is 30/31, reader is 22), canon-divergent (sarah is 7 y/o), nanny au, pet names (sweetheart, darling, sweet girl, mariposa, etc.), polite southern manners, feeling familial and self-pressure, ESTABLISHED relationship FINALLY, spanish cause joel is latino, fingering, unprotected p in v, dirty talkkk king joel miller, soft (and soft dom) joel, possessive joel, mentions of depression diagnosis and symptoms, struggling with self, discussion of co-parenting, angst, MAJOR doubt! and a slumber party! yay!

a/n: thank you as always to the bestie/cousin/sister wife/sweet, sweet gf @northernbluess for beta-reading this chapter, seriously i can't write without you so you're stuck with me. also this chapter is a little heavier in spanish then before, so if there are any corrections needed, please comment or message me! i went through multiple translations to try to find the best/most common, but things are bound to slip through the cracks.

Joel’s been catching up with some chores around the house this evening after Sarah’s gone to bed: dishes are washed and put away, counters wiped down and floors mopped. He reset the living room after he put the laundry in the dryer, settling onto the couch with a long sigh. Hands rub at his tired eyes, muscles aching for his bed but he is determined to stay up until you text him that you’re back at your friend’s house safe.

A few of your friends from college ended up with jobs in Austin, and tonight you’d all arranged to go out downtown. You had, sweetly, invited Joel to tag along but when you mentioned that the only other guys there would be boyfriends of your friends that were your age, he politely declined. Well, he used his daughter as an excuse because he didn’t want to admit that he was a little insecure about the age difference, even still.

It’s not even a large one, you’re twenty-five  and he’s thirty-three, but with a nearly ten year old kid and his own business, he’s willing to bet he’s in a much different place in life than your friends' significant others. And if there isn’t a lot of common ground, Joel knows he’s not the most social or conversational.

Resting his eyes, his head rolls back onto the couch while the TV drones on about the latest Astros game. A short buzz from his phone in his pocket peels his eyes open, yawning quietly as he fishes the device out and flips it open.

FROM: Mariposa

Cn u pcik me up pLs????

While deciphering your drunk text, another couple are delivered and he keys down to see them as he chuckles at the antics. 

I miiss u

Eveynoe is w their BFs n I wnt mine 

Plesaseeeeeee J

Before he can type a response to you, an incoming call blocks out his screen, his thumb hitting the accept button quickly and bringing the phone to his ear.

“Feelin’ alright, Mari?”

A hiccup on the other line makes him laugh quietly again, your voice coming in over the music and people in the background, “No, not alright. M’sad.”

“Why’re you sad, sweet girl?”

“Cause you’re not here. Every—everybody’s…No I didn’t want a vodka water, gross! I wanna vodka soooooda with lime…Oops, sorry J. What was I saying?” A giggle from your end pulls a smile on his face, only slightly worried at your level of intoxication.

“You were telling me why you’re sad.”

“Right! M’sad cause all my friends have got their boy—” One hiccup. “Boyfriends here. And you’re aaaallllll the way at home.” Another hiccup. “I wanna be home with you.”

“I see. Well, I don’t want you to be sad, darlin’, so m’gonna come pick you up. How’s that sound?”

He hears a gasp into the phone and your voice gets quieter, imagining you holding the phone or turning your head away to a nearby friend.

“He’s coming! Jus’ to pick me up though, we gotta get back for Sar—Sarah…Yeah, she’s so cute…Well, yeah duh, he’s a DILF…I mean, to me I guess he’d be a DIAF…‘Dad I Am Fucking’…Oh, shit!” There’s a rustling as he laughs to himself overhearing your conversation, a smug smile on his face from you bragging to your friends. “M’sorry, J, god I totally forgot I was on the phone!” You punctuate your sentence with an incredulous laugh before quieting down to hear Joel.

“That’s alright, Mari. M’gonna drop Sarah with Tommy and then come and get you, okay? Can you tell me where you are?” Joel is already standing from the couch, grabbing his keys from the entryway before making his way upstairs to get Sarah into the car.

“Ummm…One sec!” The line rustles again while he stands at the top of the stairs. “Okay, we’re at that place on 11th, Nickel City.”

“Yeah, I know where that is, sweetheart. Be there soon, okay?”

“Okay. Tha—” One last hiccup. “—nks, J.”

“Anytime, amor. Anytime.”

With Sarah dropped off at Tommy’s, Joel goes into town to pick you up. It takes another twenty minutes from Tommy’s place, finding a parking spot not too far from the bar. He slips in the door and starts to comb his eyes over the crowd, most people stepping out of his way from his intimidating frame while he weaves through the masses.

Spotting you off to the side at a high-top table, some friends he recognizes from your photos dotted around the surface as well. You’re wrapped up in a conversation with the person next to you while you sit on a stool, Joel’s eyes finally landing on the person you’re talking to. It’s another man, about his height, maybe a few inches shorter. He’s got light hair, a clean-cut look with some fancy shirt on. Clearly, the guy is flirting with you, standing closer and leaning an arm around the back of your chair. Knowing how drunk you sounded over the phone, it occurs to him that you likely don’t even realize this guy’s body language, a primal possessiveness taking over his judgment. 

He’s waited years for you. There’s no way in hell he isn’t putting on a show for this guy to send him a message.

Joel rolls his shoulders back, chest raising with the corrective posture. He saunters over to the table, politely smiling and waving as your friends must recognize him and welcome him to the group. He walks right up to the other side of your chair, placing a hand on your lower back and brushing against the skin exposed by the tank top you’re wearing.

A small gasp exhales from you with the surprise contact, turning your head and beaming when you see him. The look makes the wings of his butterfly flap faster, beating in time with his heartbeat.

“You’re here! M’so happy to see you.” He matches your smile before he is crushed in a hug, your arms around his neck. Unraveling from each other, you turn back toward the other man, before one of your other friends comes over to tell you something, pulling you away but still within arm’s length for Joel to keep his hand on you.

Joel reaches his hand out toward the man,  “Nice to meet you…”

“Colton.”

“Nice to meet you, Colton. Are you one of the college friends?”

Colton gives a weak handshake to Joel, shaking his head with a laugh, “No, actually, never met any of ‘em until tonight. Well, except Taylor. M’relatively new to town, met Taylor through work, so you know how it is. Trying to make some connections.”

Joel has to hold back his eye roll, annoyance clear on his face at the skirting around that this Colton is doing. Joel’s heard it before from Tommy — going up to a girl and using the ‘new in town’ line to get a conversation started and to hopefully get them to leave with you to ‘show you around’.

Mine. You’re mine, he repeats to himself, the jealousy pumping in his veins.

“So’re you one of the college friends? Or an Austin friend?” Colton makes polite conversation while you turn in Joel’s arm and wrap your own around his back. Tugging on his t-shirt the fingers of one of your hands slip under the material and skim across his skin. Joel clears his throat, chuckling dryly as he keeps his gaze on Colton.

“Uh, not quite. M’the boyfriend.” His head nods to his side to you, a tight, smug smile on his face as he watches the gears in Colton’s head turn.

It’s not happening for him tonight. Or ever.

“Oh shit! You must be Joel! We’ve been waiting for you. I’ve just been making sure she’s had some water and didn’t wander off before you got here. She’s been talkin’ about you all night, made me think about how many times I’ve drunkenly ranted about my girlfriend.”

“Your girlfriend?”

“Yeah, Taylor’s my girlfriend — she’s the one with blonde hair right across the table.” Colton beams down the way as Taylor makes eye contact with him, waving to the woman as she smiles back at him.

The man is a golden retriever. And Joel thought he was some douchebag trying to hook up with his girlfriend. Joel opens his mouth to apologize for his cold behavior, but before he can your head pops up from his chest, grabbing his attention. Hands at his back scratch your nails against his skin, humming contently as you press a sloppy kiss to his jaw.

Colton considers his duties relieved and goes to find his girlfriend before Joel can thank him, leaving the two of you at the end of the table. Joel pulls his chin in to look down at you, smiling softly and moving a hand to the back of your neck.

“You alright, sweetheart?”

“Yeah, jus’ happy you’re here. Missed you.”

Joe presses a kiss to your forehead and you hum again, swaying sleepily in his arms. “M’glad you called me, Mariposa.”

“Can we go home now please?”

“Yeah, Mari, ‘course we can. You want me to bring you to your house?” His hands move to your sides, running up and down against the fabric of your tank top. You hook your arms around his neck and shake your head, a tiny “humpf” accompanying it.

“No, home.”

“My house?”

“Yes! Home. Wanna sleep in your bed, s’comfier than mine.”

“Yeah, sweetheart, I can bring you home.”

A warm stirring is felt in his chest, steadying you in your stance and keeping an arm around your waist. You say goodbye to your friends, all of them waving to you both as Joel steers you through the bar and to his truck outside.

Joel calls Tommy on the way home, his brother telling him that Sarah’s out cold and he can bring her back in the morning when she wakes up. He presses for an answer about why Joel had to drop Sarah off, but Joel ignores Tommy’s question again and hangs up.

Safely back at his house, he helps you out of the truck and inside, walking behind you on the stairs as you stumble. It’s like a baby deer learning to walk — he’s never seen you this drunk, tipsy, sure, but never at this level. A smile crosses his face as he imagines a moment like this in the future with you, maybe after a night out for the two of you or maybe even after your wedding.

Your voice pulls him out of his thoughts, tripping over your feet at the landing and recovering on your own. His hand hovers at your back, ready to break your fall if it happens.

“I’m alright, m’alright. Jus’ tripped a lil’.”

To be safe, Joel holds your hips the rest of the way up and into his room, sitting you on the edge of the mattress and gathering a t-shirt from his drawers for you to wear to bed.

“No, I want the funny one that I like,” you whine, waving a hand back at his dresser. Joel shakes his head to himself, chuckling about the fact that you still have a preference for sleep attire.

He grabs the shirt you’re talking about, a worn and washed one that he got as a joke from Tommy a few years ago. He normally wears it to sleep himself, if he wears one, or around the house if he knows he won’t be going out. It’s faded black now, yellow text that reads ‘I do know it all…I just can’t remember it all at once.’

Upon finding it in his drawer last week, you laughed hysterically and made him put it on for a Polaroid. You’ve also requested it every time you’ve stayed over since. 

In front of you again, with the correct shirt, he kneels down and pats the outside of your thighs. “Can you stand for me, sweetheart?”

Using his shoulders as support, you stand on sea legs, swaying back and forth as he looks up at you. “Can I take off your skirt, darlin’?”

“Yeah, you can, cutie.” You giggle and sway wider, playing with the curls at the top of his head, turning his head to your will as he unbuttons and unzips your denim skirt. “You got some grays mixed in here, mister.”

“M’getting old, Mari. No surprises there.” He chuckles and helps you lift each foot to step out of the tube of material completely, rubbing a hand on your calf before he stands in front of you again. He’s faced with a pout, brows knit together in anger.

“You’re not getting old. You’re literally in your thirties. Not old.”

“Say that to the gray hairs then, sweetheart.”

“Gray hairs—“ Hiccup. “Mean nothing ‘sides the fact that you’re gonna be a silver fox. My silver fox.”

A content smile, closed lips, pulls the corners of your mouth up. Heavy eyelids cover your irises halfway, the sight of you so drunkenly drowsy is utterly adorable to him. Fingers grip the bottom of your tank top, kissing your forehead.

“Can I take off your shirt?”

“Take it all off, bay-beeee.” Your swaying causes you to stumble again, Joel catching you before you fall back onto the bed. Once you’re steady, your own hands slip under his shirt, running over his tummy while you press sloppy kisses into his neck. “Mm, want you so bad, J.”

“I love you, darlin’, and you know I want you all the time, but not tonight. You need to get some water and go to sleep. For a while.” A defeated sigh blows against his skin, rocking back on your heels and Joel holding your weight to bring you to stand straight again. “Arms up, baby.”

You comply without another ask, lifting your arms as if they’re heavy weights, allowing Joel to tug the material over your head. With a slight slap sound, your arms drop back against your sides. Joel takes off your bra for you and gets you into his t-shirt, giving you a small kiss. He walks you to your side of the bed, tucking you in.

“Be right back, sweet girl. Gonna get you some water and then you can go to sleep, okay?”

“Okay.” You sigh, nesting into the sheets and duvet. Your eyes close, soft hums filling the room as he runs downstairs, filling a glass of water and grabbing ibuprofen to leave at your bedside for the morning.

Returning to his room, he coaxed you to sit up, having you drink half the glass. He changes for bed himself, stripping down to his boxers and slipping under the covers, pulling you closer with an arm around your waist.

“G’night, Mari.”

“Mm, night, J. Thanks for coming to get me and bringing me home. Like sleeping next to you lots more than a sleepover with my friends…”

“Like sleeping next to you too, Mari. Missed you all night. M’glad you’re home now.”

“Nightie night.”

“Nightie night, sweet girl. Don’t let the bedbugs bite.” He pinches your side playfully, breathing a laugh out of his nose at your yelp and squeezing you closer. With a kiss to the top of your head, he lulls you to sleep with his fingertips running up and down your spine, thoughts going right back to those flash images of a future with you.

“Love you, Mariposa.”

There’s an ache all over your body, eyes too sore and crusted over with sleep to peel open when you first wake up. Light peeks through the curtains, shining onto the bed and directly at your face, making you groan into the pillow and attempt to roll over.

Unfortunately, your body is telling you to get up, find water or pain meds or some coffee, you really wouldn’t be all too picky at this moment. Rolling over onto your back, you reach out to your side and feel bedding underneath your hand, pouting to yourself when you finally open your eyes and see Joel’s gone. As you sit up, you can hear the shower turn on in the bathroom attached to his bedroom and you can hear some quiet humming from the other side of the door. A smile crosses your face, the idea of a shower nestling itself in your mind and feeling like it would be the only thing to get rid of all of this hangover.

On the nightstand next to you, there are two burgundy-colored tablets and a half glass of water, vaguely remembering last night when Joel made you drink the other half before going to sleep. Washing down the ibuprofen with the entirety of the water, you start to recount what you can recall from the night before, cringing internally when you get to the point that Joel showed up to pick you up. You don’t really remember getting home, but looking down at the t-shirt you’re wearing clues you in that Joel must have done most of the work to get you into bed.

Slipping out from under the duvet, you set the empty glass back down and slink over to the bathroom, twisting the knob and opening the door. The squeak of the hinges breaks your sneaking attempt and Joel’s humming stops.

He speaks up over the sound of the water, “Mariposa? That you?”

“I sure hope no one else would be sneaking into the bathroom this morning. Unless you have another drunk girlfriend you had to pick up from the bar,” you laugh at the self-deprecating joke, picking up your toothbrush and squeezing out a dollop of toothpaste to clean your teeth. And to get rid of the taste of tequila lingering on your tongue.

The shower curtain slides back a bit and Joel’s head sticks out, goofy grin on his face with curls hanging on his forehead. “Nah, just got the one. How’re feeling this morning?”

“Like I got beat up by a bunch of vodka sodas and a couple of tequila shots.” Your words are muffled around the foamy toothpaste, leaning back against the counter facing him.

“Yeah, you were pretty drunk, darlin’. But it was honestly cute, you’re a funny drunk.”

Turning back toward the sink, you fold over the sink to spit out and rinse your mouth out, groaning softly, “God, please tell me I didn’t do or say anything embarrassing.”

“Nothin’ too bad, but there were some things that I will be committing to memory,” Joel laughs and winks, the noise getting louder as you groan again and roll your head back.

“This is the worst part about getting drunk. People holding stupid shit you said over your head.” Crossing your arms in front of your chest, you look at Joel across the few feet separating you and watch him shake his head and grin sweetly.

“I’ll tell you what you said, sweetheart, but I think you’re in too physically fragile of a state right now.”

“God, you are right about that,” you sigh and shake your head, propping yourself off the counter you were leaning on, crossing the tiles to be only a foot from Joel’s face, “Can I join you? A shower sounds like exactly what I need right now.”

He nods quickly, halfway through the question and you chuckle at the antics, pulling the t-shirt over your head and slipping off your panties to leave both in a heap with Joel’s clothes. He opens the curtain for you and steps back toward the other wall while you close the curtain and drag yourself under the stream of water.

A sigh relaxes your chest and shoulders, closing your eyes as you let the warm water run all over you. Joel’s hands brush across your skin, the feeling of his work-worn palms sending a tingle of excitement down your skin and chilling your body even under the hot water. His thumbs cup under your breasts while the rest of his fingers splay out on your ribcage, tips of them toward your back as he holds you closer to him.

“Mm, you’re so beautiful, d’you know that, mi Mariposa? La mujer más hermosa del mundo (The most beautiful woman in the world),” Joel mumbles against your skin when he nestles into the crook of your neck, curving his back to fit with you perfectly. His hands wander from your ribs, circling around your back and drifting down to the swell of your ass where they settle with a gentle squeeze.

“I think I’m getting better at Spanish 'cause I understood that. And it was very sweet, thank you, J. I think you’re the most beautiful man in the world.” You giggle and feel Joel exhale a chuckle against your neck, peppering slow and spaced kisses along your shoulder.

“You also told me something else about what you think of me last night. Well, it was to one of your friends but you were still on the phone with me so I heard,” he stretches to full height again with a smug smirk, squeezing your ass again as you sigh.

“Oh god, what did I say to you? Did I feed your massive ego?” you tease, bringing your hands up to his shoulders and lightly scratching your nails against his skin.

“I learned that I am a DILF last night. Or according to you, I am a DIAF to you. Dad I Am Fucking.” He can barely get the last sentence out around his loud laugh, your embarrassed reaction of wide eyes and jaw dropped egging him on more.

“Stop, I cannot believe I said that. And that you heard! You’re never going to let me live that down.”

“Not a chance, sweetheart. Not a chance,” Joel can’t wipe the giggly smile off of his face as he continues, “Oh, and you also were definitely really into me getting you into pajamas last night. I asked if I could take off your shirt and you said ‘Take it all off bay-beeee’. Which was very tempting.”

“Oh my god, if you don’t stop telling me all of this right now, I won’t take anything off for you again.” It’s a thinly veiled threat, both of you know it holds zero weight.

“Alright, alright. I’ll stop.”

“Thank you,” you breathe out as you turn toward the shelf in the shower, reaching for the body wash before Joel intercepts your hand, holding it in his and lowering it to your side. He presses his chest to your back, the contact also nudging his hard cock into the flesh of your ass.

“Y’know, I woke up this morning after you were all over me last night with a fucking hard on. Aching for you. And then you come in here and ask to join me in the shower, made it come right back…” he leans down, kissing your shoulder, up your neck and to your ear, “D’you still want me, Mariposa? Hm?”

One of his hands drifts to your inner thighs, coaxing your legs apart and swiping two fingers from your entrance to your clit. Your arousal coats his fingers, a quiet whimper leaving your lips in an exhale, eyes closing and head rolling back against his shoulder.

“You still want me, mi dulzura? Feels like you do,” his lips are against your ear, voice low and gravelly, and he slowly circles your clit as you continue to whimper and writhe in his arms, “Sounds like you do, too, mi amor. Y’know, we have the whole house to ourselves, Mariposa. I want you to be loud for me while I touch you. Understand?”

Lost in the sparks of pleasure slowly building, your words get caught in your throat as one of your arms reaches up to wrap around to the nape of his neck. At the lack of response to his question, Joel pinches your clit before pulling his hand away.

“No, no, no, please. I understand. I’ll be loud for you, J. Please touch me…”

You grip the curls at the back of his head, biting your lip and opening your eyes again to look at Joel’s head at your side. His hand comes back, his thumb rubbing your clit while his middle finger sinks into you until the first knuckle. He keeps his eyes on your face, slowly working the finger in and out of your cunt, never giving it to you fully.

“Fuck, don’t tease me, Joel. Please, pretty please, gimme more.”

A deep chuckle rumbles from his chest, his nose nudging at your cheek to turn your head straight toward the tiled wall, pressing open-mouthed kisses along your jaw.

“You want more, Mariposa?”

“Pleasepleaseplease.”

“Mm, and are you going to be good? Give me all your pretty sounds that I love?” Joel pushes his entire middle finger into you now, holding it there, “If I give you what you want, you gotta be loud for me, pretty girl.”

“I will, I promise.” You wiggle your hips to get any more friction building, grumbling in frustration when Joel’s other arm tugs your hips back against him, strapping you to him like a seatbelt. The thumb against your clit leaves, and as you’re about to complain again, Joel adds another finger and starts to thrust them in and out frenetically, the heel of his palm rubbing the sensitive bud at the front of your folds.

A sinful moan rolls from your gut, bouncing off of the walls of the shower and drowning out the sound of the water for a few seconds. You can feel Joel’s satisfied smirk against your skin, his mouth dipping to the crook of your neck to suck at your pulse point and leave his mark. His hand continues its rapid pace, your legs bending as they start to give out the closer you reach to the edge. To attempt to hold your weight, you lean your arms against the tiles, feeling yourself being held up by Joel’s arm tightened across your hips.

“Fuck, Joel, feels so fucking good. Oh!” Your voice pitches up when his fingers graze that spot inside your walls, the sound catching in your throat. Joel pushes deeper with his fingers, hooking them to find that same spot and petting against it with small strokes of his fingers. The sounds coming from you are uncontrollable, head falling back against his shoulder as a mess of his name, lustful whimpers and whines, and wanton moans echo in the steaming shower.

“That’s it, pretty girl, I can feel how close you are. Nearly squeezing my fingers out of ya.” Joel’s small groan vibrates against your shoulder, his hard-on being pressed into your back and leaking pre-cum. You can feel yourself clench around his fingers, the edges of your vision blurring as you near your peak. “Gonna come for me, Mari? Gonna be a good girl and come all over my hand so you can be ready for my cock?”

His words are the final push, pleasure oozing around his fingers and dripping down your folds, warmth spreading in your body as your nerve endings tingle. You can hear yourself moaning his name, small encouragements spoken in your ear as Joel continues to fuck his fingers into you throughout your orgasm. When you’re fully present in your body again, Joel slips his fingers out of you slowly, turning your head and kissing you deeply.

“Need you so fucking bad, Mariposa,” he says against your lips, kissing you fervently before speaking again, “Wanna bend you over and make you take my cock, and you’ll tell me how good it feels filling you up. You want it, pretty girl?”

“Need it, J. Please, I need you so bad.” You kiss him this time, pressing your hips back and grinding against his cock, the rumble of a mouth muffled into your mouth as your tongues meld together. Joel pulls away and grips your hips, turning both of you so his back is facing the stream of water.

“Hands against the wall, amor, arch your back for me—” You follow his instructions with one of his large hands skimming along your spine, folded to an angle at your hips. “That’s it, baby. So good for me.”

Joel takes his cock in his hands, teasing his tip at your entrance and earning a whine from you. A dark laugh is heard faintly from behind you, an equally quiet sigh of relief when he gives you just the tip.

“Mm, fuck, Mari. Estás tan apretado, y húmedo, y cálido. Nunca me voy a cansar de este coño. (You’re so tight, and wet, and warm. I’m never going to get tired of this pussy.)” 

Before you can formulate any sort of response, despite not fully knowing what he said, Joel gives you a few more inches of his cock, stuttering out a moan from you before his hips set a rough, desperate pace. Grunts and groans, moans and whimpers fill the bathroom, your names exchanged back and forth as he fucks you from behind. His hands hold tightly onto your hips, digging in to surely form bruises to match the hickey at your collar, and to keep you from being rammed into the wall with how hard his thrusts are.

“More, fuck, gimme all of it, J. Want you to fill me up, make it hard to fucking walk straight.”

There’s a vibrating rumble that resonates in your own chest, Joel completely pulling out on the downstroke and heaving his chest up and down with shallow breaths.

“Fucking dirty girl. Mi chica sucia. Filthy, baby.” He runs his fingers down the line of your spine, still arched for him. You feel him lined up at your entrance again, whimpering for him and pressing your hips back to try to get him inside. Joel chuckles, shaking his head, “Mm, can’t get enough of my cock, can you, sweetheart? Greedy little thing.”

Your jaw drops open with a toe-curling moan, Joel’s hips thrusting his throbbing cock into your waiting cunt to fill you completely, the same rough and hard pace set as he makes you knock forward and brace against the wall with every movement.

“Take it, darlin’. Oh, fuck, aguantarla. Puedes aguantarla, mi dulzura. (Oh, fuck, take it. You can take it, my sweetness.)” Joel’s head rolls back with another guttural moan, tilting forward to watch his cock disappearing into your dripping hole. “Fuck, such a pretty pussy. And it’s all fucking mine, isn’t that right, Mariposa?”

“Y-Yes! Fuck yeah, it’s all yours, J. No one could ever fuck me like you,” you glance over your shoulder and he makes eye contact, a wide, knowing smile on his face. Your cunt clenches around his cock, his brutal pace hurtling you toward the edge. Just as you’re about to ask for that little bit more, he reads your mind and slips one of his hands around your front, errantly rubbing circles in your clit.

“Can feel you around me, Mari, know you’re close. You gonna let me fill you up with my come? Gonna milk my cock with your tight pussy?”

All you can do is nod, eyes shutting tightly as moans squeak out of you. One hand reaches back to grip his wrist as he keeps you right there at the edge.

“Say it, baby. Say it back to me and I’ll let you come. Give you just what you need.”

A deep breath brings enough air into your lungs to rasp out, “Please fill me up, Joel. Wanna milk your cock of everything you can give me, want you to be dripping out of me all day. Remind me of how only you can have my pussy.”

“Fuck yeah, that’s right, sweetheart. Such a good girl.” Joel eyes that you have a hand bracing you still, letting go of your hip as he fucks you, rubbing your clit continuously. He reaches his free hand around to your mouth, prodding his thumb at your lips and humming when you take it into your mouth and suck. After a minute, he pops out his saliva covered digit and brings it back to your body, pushing into the tight ring of muscle facing him. The sensation of stimulation at all three places barrels you to your high, pussy gripping his cock as everything tenses and pleasure rocks your body and clears your mind.

With the tightness felt in both holes around him, Joel takes one, two, three more thirsts before he’s spilling into you, ropes of come coating your walls and lazy jerks of his hips fucking it deeper into you.

After a moment, Joel pulls out of you slowly, gathering all that dribbles out of you and pushing it back inside with his fingers, causing a shudder down your spine.

The two of you come down from your peaks, the water running cold now. Still needing to clean yourselves, Joel washes your body while you shampoo and condition his hair as he folds over to gently exfoliate your legs. The tasks get swapped, Joel washing your hair while you wash his body.

Stepping out, he grabs a towel for you, wrapping it around you tightly and giving you a sweet, chaste kiss. He gets another towel for himself, both of you drying off and heading back into his bedroom to get dressed again.

You sit on the edge of his bed in your clothes from last night, one of his shirts pulled over your tank top and tucked into your skirt. As you comb your fingers over your wet hair, you look at Joel as he pulls on a pair of jeans standing next to his closet.

“Hey, I have a question for you, actually.”

“Shoot, darlin’.”

“Am I remembering correctly that last night when you came to the bar, you were acting a little jealous toward Colton? Did you think he was flirting with me or something and you got all possessive?” you giggle quietly.

Joel blushes and shakes his head with an overexaggerated eye roll. “Pffft, no. Don’t remember it happening like that, probably a bit clouded in your memory.”

Laughing more, you stand up and cross over to him, hands splayed on his soft tummy and head tilted away from him.

“Oh, sure. Sure, J, we’ll go with that if it makes you feel better.” Reaching up you give his cheek a gentle pat and wink at him, giggling faintly before he gathers you up in his arms and gives you a kiss.

“Good, 'cause it does make me feel better. ‘Sides can you blame me for getting a little jealous? We’ve waited like three years to get this right with each other, m’not letting it go.”

“Me neither, which is why you don’t ever have to be jealous cause it’s only you, baby.” You send him a wink and a grin, giving him a kiss before you both hear the front door open, Tommy’s voice echoing upstairs as he calls out for Joel. He looks down at you, biting his lip.

“I didn’t think he’d be bringing Sarah home this early. Uh, d’you mind that he’s here or should I jus’ say…” he trails off awkwardly, waiting for your thoughts on how to broach the fact that you’re over here, in Joel’s shirt and clearly have stayed the night with your wet hair from the shower.

“If you’re fine with him knowing, we can tell him. That is if Sarah hasn’t spilled the beans already.” Joel laughs faintly and nods, running his hands up and down your arms.

“That is highly possible. But guess we’ll have to find out when we head downstairs. And I’m apologizing now for any stupid shit my brother says.”

“You act like I don’t know Tommy already.”

“You don’t know Tommy as my girlfriend. He’s going to give you some shit, and he’s going to give a lot to me for keeping it from him.”

“Think I can survive Tommy Miller. Now, c’mon, get a shirt on, and let’s go. I need some coffee.”

“Yes, ma’am.”

Joel descendsed the stairs ahead of you, rounding the corner into the kitchen and greeting his brother as Tommy pours himself a cup of coffee. Sarah is already at the table, cereal bowl in front her as she eats and reads her book. Joel grabs two mugs from the cabinet, earning a confused look from Tommy before you walk into the room, the confusion melting into mischief. His brother nudges at Joel’s arm and winks.

“Ah, así que esta es la razón de su aventura nocturna en la ciudad. Puedo ver por qué estabas tan desesperada por mi ayuda. (Oh, so this is the reason for your late-night adventure into the city. I can see why you were so desperate for my help.)”

Joel’s eyes roll into the back of his head, “Cállate, Tommy. Necesitaba que la llevaran a casa, así que le di una. (Shut up, Tommy. She needed a ride home, so I gave her one.)”

“Claro, claro. Un paseo. (Sure, sure. A ride.)”

“Pendejo de mierda (Fucking dumbass).”

“¿Qué? No estoy diciendo que haya algo malo en ello. Estoy feliz de ver a su hijo si significa que usted consigue algunos. Finalmente. (What? I’m not saying there’s anything wrong with it. I am happy to watch your child if it means you getting some. Finally.)” He laughs when Joel glares at him, Tommy crossing over to the table and covering Sarah’s ears. “Además, ella está jodidamente caliente. No sé lo que ve en un viejo como tú. (Plus, she’s fucking hot. Don’t know what she sees in an old man like you.)”

“Yo tampoco. Y deja de hablar de ella así. (I don’t either. And stop talking about her like that.)” Joel’s voice grits out the last sentence, his short fuse being tested with Tommy’s teasing this morning.

“No, realmente, ella es casi diez años más joven y podría conseguir a quien quisiera, pero ¿eres tú? Mejor empieza a apostar por los caballos, hermano. (No, really, she’s almost ten years younger and could get anybody she wanted, but it’s you? Better start betting on the horses, brother.)” His younger brother comes back to stand next to him, picking up his mug and taking a sip.

“Déjalo. (Quit it.)” Joel sends him another glare, grabbing the milk out of the fridge to add some to your cup.

“Maldita sea, tal vez tengo que contratar a una niñera para Sarah cuando está en mi casa. O tal vez la contrate yo mismo. (Damn, maybe I gotta hire a nanny for Sarah when she’s at my house. Or maybe I’ll hire her myself.)”

When Joel looks back at Tommy, he sees him eyeing you as you talk to Sarah at the table, smacking him upside the back of his head.

“Tommy, si no te callas la mierda ahora mismo, lo juro por Dios. (Tommy, if you don’t shut the fuck right now, I swear to god.)”

“Qué? Ella tu novia ahora? (What? She your girlfriend now?)” The young Miller questions, raising an eyebrow.

“Sí, lo es. Así que deja de hablar de lo caliente que es mi novia. (Yeah, she is. So stop talking about how hot my girlfriend is.)” Joel states matter-of-factly, shutting the fridge after returning the jug of milk.

“I understood some of that actually,” you say with a proud smile on your face, one of eager mischief on Tommy’s across the room.

Joel whips his head to you, wide eyes, “What did you understand?”

“You called him an asshole. Something about Sarah. The word girlfriend was thrown in there.”

Joel sighs quietly in relief, picking up your prepared mug of coffee.

“Oh, and something about you being old. And that your brother thinks I’m hot. ” Tommy sputters on his drink as he starts to laugh loudly, a deep blush warming Joel’s cheeks. You walk over to him and take the mug out of his hand, giving him a kiss on the cheek. “Nothing to be embarrassed about. Cause you’re not old and Tommy just wishes he wasn’t single at thirty years old.”

Joel laughs and Tommy waves your comment off, rolling his eyes before winking at you, “Oh please, you wish you found me before this old man.”

“Sure, Tommy. You can think that all you want, but I met you both on the same day.” Joel barks out a laugh, a smug grin on his face from you holding your own toward Tommy.

Joel looks at his brother, a smile growing on Tommy’s face, “Well, maybe you needed to get your eyes checked that day, Posey. Cause you’d have to be blind to not pick me over the decrepit ass.”

“Y’know, I’m happy to set you up with one of my friends. She likes the type of cute guys who think they’re funny.”

“I know I’m funny, Posey, so not sure if it’s gonna work out. But yes, I would like to be set up with this friend of yours, please…” You laugh and nod, sipping your coffee before answering.

“I’ll work some magic for ya, Tommy.”

“I like this one, Joel, better keep her around so she can be my wingman.”

“You say ‘this one’ as if there have been others,” Joel rolls his eyes and continues, “And I certainly don’t need your advice on that front Tommy. She’s got me as long as she wants me, but please dear god, you should not be his wingwoman. Don’t subject yourself to that torture, Mari.”

The three of you chat to catch up, Tommy genuinely asking about your time in Boston and telling you how glad he is that you’re back around to make his people happy again. The comment swells your heart before your attention is pulled to Sarah as she asks about having a sleepover with you.

“I would love to throw a sleepover with you, sweet pea. I’ll bring over all the goodies to your house and we can stay in your room and watch movies and paint our nails and do all the fun girly things.”

“Yes! And Daddy and Uncle Tommy aren’t allowed ‘cause no boys.” She points at the two of them, both of them frowning and sighing.

“Can I at least be at home, mija?” Joel jokes, and the three of you laugh as Sarah seriously considers her answer.

“Yeah, that’s fine, but you gotta leave us to do the sleepover things ourselves.”

“Deal, Bug. I can do that.”

“Oh yes! It’s all decided then, we’ll have a sleepover when your week at camp is over.” You clap your hands together and grin, already planning everything you need to do this week to prepare for it.

“Damn, Mari, you brought a lot of stuff for one night with Sarah.” Joel eyes you from head to toe, a duffle on your arm, and shopping bags in your hands. He takes the plastic bags from you, holding the back door open for you before following you over to the island to set down all of your purchases. “You do know it’s only Sarah, right, darlin’? None of her friends are coming. This is a practice run for a sleepover.”

“I know, but I wanted to make the first girly sleepover she has at her house fun. I loved having my friends stay over when I was younger, and I dunno, you’re a boy so you don’t get it.” Rustling around in the bags, you start to pull out snacks and candy, along with fun new nail polishes and nail stickers, new hair clips, some young-girl-friendly makeup, and new pajamas for Sarah and you.

“Sweetheart, this is all really nice, but let me give you some money for it all. This is a ton of stuff.” Joel glances at the counter covered in supplies, and before you can answer he’s walking to the front door to get his wallet from the entryway table.

You call out after him, “I’m not going to take it so don’t bother trying! It wasn’t even that much anyway.”

Popping back around the corner into the kitchen, cash in hand, he shakes his head with a mocking laugh, “You’re funny. Even if it was five dollars, I’m giving you ten. Now please take the cash.”

Joel stops in front of you, hand out with a hundred in his hand. A dry laugh leaves your chest, pushing his hand away as you continue to sort through everything from the shops, “Not happening. This was way less than a hundred dollars too, so definitely not accepting that. Go put it back in your wallet, Miller.”

“You’re so goddam stubborn sometimes.”

“Oh, yeah, and you’re not?”

“Hey, I didn’t say that. I know I’m stubborn, that’s why this argument is happening. And why I am about to do this.” Joel steps behind you, slipping the bill into the back pocket of your shorts. You groan, fishing it out and shoving it back in his hand, pushing at his chest.

Joel rebuttals with another attempt, stepping toward you but you step back, backing around to the other side of the counter as he follows closely. You hold your arms out to keep space between the two of you, not being able to hold back a laugh as you start to pick up the pace in your cyclical chase.

“Joel! I’m not taking your damn money, leave it!”

“Mariposa, please, we both know I am way more stubborn than you and m’not gonna stop unless you take it.”

Shaking your head, you turn around to actually move into a speedwalk-jog kind of walk around the kitchen, serpentining your steps.

“Darlin’, I can still catch you if you walk like that.”

“Well, I’d like to see you try.”

Joel takes that statement as a challenge, suddenly catching up with you and wrapping his arms to your front, slipping the bill in the waistband of your shorts before letting you go, putting his hands up in the air.

Wordlessly, you snatch the money from your bottoms, throw it on the counter, and go back to the pile of purchases on the counter. After all of that, you start to unload the drinks in the fridge and open the pantry to throw the sweets and other snacks on one of the shelves. Joel stands and watches you, eyes going back and forth between following your movements to all of the things lying out, including the money.

A feeling kicks up in your chest, tightening your insides with a wring. Small moments send you back to feelings like these, unsupported by actual occurrences but your brain doesn’t care about what actually happens; it prefers the what-ifs. What if this doesn’t last, what if you’re too young, what if you’re too anxious, too broken, too much and it all comes crumbling from under you before you fully realize it? What if this is one of those moments you look back on as a sign? It’s taut and consuming, begging you to say something about it to release the corkscrew.

“If this is too much or if I’m overstepping a — I don’t know — a parental boundary 'cause she’s not my kid, and I know that, of course, but I wanted to do this for Sarah. M’not the nanny that you have to reimburse anymore, I just thought it would be fun to make it like how my sleepovers used to be as a kid…”

Joel’s brows stitch together with what looks like confusion or concern, rounding the kitchen island and standing next to you. A hand on your hip closest to him presses into the flesh there, turning you toward him as the other hand reaches up to tilt your chin to him. Your eyes avoid his, embarrassment heating your body with licks of flames.

“Can you look at me? Please?” His voice is unwavering but shy, boyish. You answer with a flick of up, meeting his own stare. “Mari, sweetheart, this isn’t about anything like that. I know you aren’t ‘the nanny’ anymore, and if I’m being honest, I don’t think you were ever just ‘the nanny’ to either of us. I was being pigheaded, and I didn’t want you to take on doin’ all of this yourself. It’s jus’ automatic for me to want to cover for Sarah, with any sort of activity. Not that I don’t want you to do all of this. I can’t even begin to explain how much it means to me that you care so much for Sarah. I’m just, I’m being her dad. And not giving you the means to do things for her yourself. M’sorry.”

“You don’t have to apologize, J. I should have better explained myself from the beginning. I want to be a part of your lives, I want to….I don’t know, I don’t want to take the place of her mom, obviously, but I want to be someone she can do girly things with if we’re gonna be together for a while—”

“Not if, Mari. I don’t plan on letting you go without a serious fight,” Joel’s thumb brushes against your cheek as he holds your gaze, “I am so grateful and so relieved that Sarah has someone like you in her life. ‘Specially right now with everything around her mom leavin’, you’re exactly what she needs. What we both need…I will take the money back. But next time we’re splitting it, and every time after that ‘til it’s time that it’s coming outta a joint account.”

When Sarah arrives home from her playdate, Joel retreats upstairs after ordering pizza for the two of you (and him, because he claimed he was gonna sneak down) to watch something on the small tv in his bedroom. You and Sarah changed into your new pajamas and got all of the snacks moved into the living room, trekking blankets and pillows and stuffed animals from her room and around the house to build a nest on the floor in front of the couch.

Sarah had chosen The Sisterhood of the Traveling Pants out of the stack of movies you had rented, popping it in and sitting back with you while you had her pick out a color for her nails. The two of you talked about camp and the past school year, her confessing a crush she has on a boy in her camp group this year. There’s only a few details you get from her as you paint her nails, giggling with her when she gets shy and telling her about your first crush.

Sarah eventually is the one to paint your nails, turning out a bit messy and abstract during the process but nonetheless it was fun. As she’s finishing up a second coat on the last nail of yours, the doorbell rings for the pizza and Joel jogs downstairs a minute later to answer the door. Carrying the boxes over to the kitchen after he paid and tipped, he grins at you and nods to the set up.

“Is that every pillow in our house?”

“Well, no, you still have the ones on your bed cause you were sitting on ‘em,” you reply as you walk into the kitchen behind Sarah, fingers splayed apart, careful not to smudge. The younger Miller does the same, looking up at Joel when she stands next to the pizza box.

“Daddy, can you get the slices for me? I don’t want to mess up my nails that Posey painted for me. Look at them! They’re so pretty!” She raises her arms up to give Joel a look, his hand taking one of hers and inspecting it.

“Gosh, Bug, these are just gorgeous. Mari did a great job,” he grins at you, giving you a wink at the same time an idea pops into yours.

“I could do your nails, J. They could match Sarah’s!” Your suggestion is immediately supported by his daughter, her small stature jumping up and down in front of him.

“Yes, yes! You need to get your nails painted, Daddy!”

“Wasn’t this sleepover ‘no boys allowed’?” he arches a brow before he grabs a piece of pizza, plopping it on a plate for Sarah to take into the other room, “If I can stay for longer than it takes to paint my nails and hang out and eat your snacks, you can absolutely paint my nails.”

Sarah takes her plate from her dad, grinning ear-to-ear as she retreats back to the blanket nest. Joel makes a plate for you, carrying it out with his own and setting them on the coffee table. With a groan, he lowers himself to the ground, leaning his back against the couch and holding out his hands to you.

“Go for it, sweetheart.”

“D’you want the same thing as Sarah or something different?”

“Hmm, what d’you think, mija? Should we match?”

“I think you should give Daddy the color I gave you, Posey. It’s so pretty!” she leans back against you, using you as a backrest while she eats her pizza carefully with her wet nails, engrossed in the movie.

“Alright, guess it’s decided then. We’ll be matching,” you smile at him, taking one hand in yours to pull it closer, relaxing it against your thigh as you open the polish bottle. Concentrating on the tasks at hand, Joel wiggles his fingers when you aren’t in the midst of painting to get your attention, holding up a piece of pizza near your face.

“Eat, darlin’. Gotta fuel your artistic brain,” he winks and smiles sweetly at you, earning a quiet laugh before you lean in and take a bite chewing as you go back to painting. You switch hands after a few more bites, giving him a break to eat his own pizza and you yours while the three of you watch the movie. Once your job is done, you close the bottle tight and set it on the table, getting Sarah’s attention to look at it.

“How’d I do, Sare-Bear? Does your dad look pretty?” Her giggles pull some from all of you, nodding and clapping her hands together.

“Daddy, you need some of my pretty stickers and then Posey needs to take a picture with her camera.” Sarah stands and moves over to the pile of beauty supplies, grabbing the pack of nail stickers you bought and picking out a sheet. She sits next to Joel, stickering around his face as he closes his eyes and lets it all happen.

“Is this what happens all the time at girl sleepovers?” He peeks an eye open at you, getting a wide smile and shrug.

“Guess we’ll have to have some more for you to really find out.” Sarah steps back from her handiwork, and you pick up the Polaroid camera, lining up the shot from the side of Joel where there’s multiple star stickers clustered around his eyes. The shutter snaps when he looks at you, spitting out the image. You hand it to Sarah to watch it develop, showing you both quickly before going to hang it on the fridge along with a few other of your shots. You snap another of him looking at you directly, soft rounded eyes filled with affection.

Once you set the camera down, holding onto that photo for yourself, his hands find your thighs, running over the soft cotton of your PJ pants.

“Thank you for doin’ this for her, she hasn’t been this happy and giggly since before you left last summer.” Joel leans in, giving you a gentle, lingering kiss. “I love you. So, so much, Mari.”

Instead of answering, you give him another kiss before Sarah walks back in, settling between the two of you on the floor nest, cuddling up within your little unit of three to finish out the movie.

A few nights after your slumber party, you sneak over to Joel’s again before bed, using the key to the back door that he had made for you. He’s sitting on the couch, a line of sight to the door and a sleepy smile tugging at his lips when he sees you.

Padding your feet across the floors, you climb onto the couch next to him and curl your legs under you while you lean into his side. His arm wraps you up and his lips press against your forehead with a content sigh.

“Hi, Mari.”

“Hey, J.”

“How was your day, darlin’?” he asks as he turns off the TV, fingers ghosting up and down your bicep.

“Good, it was good. Babysat for the O’Connors today with the little baby. She’s so adorable, just a day full of baby giggles.” You grin and Joel smiles back at you, nodding along, “And then after that I drove to therapy and had that for an hour and then went home and waited to come see you.”

“M’very glad you’re here. Can’t sleep without you anymore,” he kisses your temple, “How was therapy, amor?”

“Today was a little hard. Talked more about maybe looking into medicine cause I feel like it isn’t fully there yet. But I do feel like I am happy. Like in my heart. My brain just can't keep up. Still have a lack of interest in things and not a lot of energy like I used to.”

Joel hums an acknowledgment, looking down at you on his shoulder, “M’here if you need to talk about anything, sweet girl.”

“I know. Thank you,” you give him a chaste kiss, smiling drowsily, “How was your day?”

“Pretty alright. Had to go fill in for someone who called in sick today at a job site so I’m exhausted from all the lifting and using machinery. But the framing is all done which means there’s something that looks like a house standing on the lot,” Joel chuckles softly and glances out the front window, “And then, uh, ran into your mom when I got home. She must’ve been running out for something but she stopped to talk and invited me and Sarah and Tommy to celebrate the Fourth with y’all.”

You sit up, grinning excitedly, “Really? Oh my gosh, that will be so fun. Our first official holiday together. Even though it’s just the Fourth of July. Kind of lame.”

Joel chuckles along with you, nodding his head and avoiding your eyes, “I mean, I told her yes ‘cause I didn’t think you’d mind. But the more I got to thinkin’, I guess, I just—I think I need some more time before we tell your parents about us.”

Your face falls before you can hide it, Joel’s hand immediately reaching to cup your cheek delicately, “M’sorry, sweet girl. I just don’t think it’s a good idea for us to do it at a family event and maybe it might be best if we can sit them down sometime to talk about it all.”

A slow nod keeps you quiet, in your thoughts, rambling out an agreement as you bring your eyes to Joel’s again, “Yeah, yeah, I understand. I agree. Would be best to wait a little while longer.”

“Thank you, darlin’. M’so glad you agree. We’ll find the right time, eventually,” Joel gives you a tender kiss, lingering against your lips for a few more dopey exchanges. He pulls away, standing up and gathering you up with him, leading you to his bedroom and getting into bed with you, “Night, Mariposa. Love you.”

“Night, J,” you reply meekly, the small sound of your voice easily brushed off as fatigue. Joel keeps you close, spooning you with his front against your chest, falling asleep behind you quickly. You can’t rest, especially after that short and decided conversation.

Why did you agree so easily? And why was he even asking for more time? His daughter knows, his brother knows, your friends know. What’s any different about your family? Is he afraid that if he breaks your heart he’ll have to move? But why would he even think about that possibility when all he’s told you is how much he loves you, how he’ll be yours until you want nothing to do with him anymore?

Every reassurance that he’s given you is flooding your mind, those doubts and fears worming their way into the sweet memories and poisoning them with twisted words.

Every time he’s said he loves you, does he mean it? Or is he only saying it to say it, to placate your anxieties about the future of you two by committing in a way?

Is this push back about telling your family a response to you not being ready to say ‘I love you’ back? Is he getting fed up with waiting for it?

Are you too much too quickly? Weaving yourself too tightly into his life and his daughter’s life? Is he going to start to drift, to put off telling your parents until he can end it?

These thoughts cycle in an endless loop, keeping you up while Joel sleeps soundly beside you. Nausea stirs in your stomach, rapid heart beating from the spiraling of your mind keeping you wide awake until the early hours of the morning.

The only way you can manage to fall asleep is turning in Joel’s arms, cuddling into his chest and breathing in his scent to halt the carousel of negativity in your brain long enough for his even breaths to lull you to sleep.

One last question flashes to you before you’re finally asleep:

 What happens when Summer ends?

taglist: @beskarandblasters @undrthelights @swiftispunk @joelsversion @asirenbyanyothername @ellenmunn @ja-ehyun @sw33tp1xie @marisemonteiroo @brunetteeras @beee-haw @jenna-mcgraw19 @whore-4-pedro @katifefe @joelmillerswifu @itsgiorgiaz @soph55 @wild-hearts-runfree @youcancallmeelle @jupitre @starkovli @thatgeminigirlx @livingdeadmaria @bunnyskisses @houseofballoonsth @casual-obsessions @pedro-pascal-lvr @bimbodolls-world @burningnerdchild @tuquoquebrute @mrsvedder12 @estelivi28 @bongsrconfusing @addictedtotlou @angie2274 @pedrostories @pedroholicx @theelishad @johnwatsn @elissaaa @felicityofbakerstreet @atinylittlepain @northernbluess @cannolighost

#joel #writing #joel miller x reader #joel miller x afab!reader #joel miller x female reader #joel miller x f!reader #joel miller smut #joel miller angst #joel miller series #tlou fanfic #tlou fic #tlou fanfiction #joel miller fanfic #joel miller fanfiction #joel miller fic

[dearhargrove]

Protected

Summary Ethan knew Quinn was going to attack his friends - but the deal was to keep you as unharmed as possible. Unfortunately Quinn had never really liked you.

tags violence, wounds, blood, spoilers for scream iv, fem reader

word count 1380

a/n first time writing for scream! Recently watched it cuz of jack and wow…. Such a great movie like what. Anyway I decided to write this and I hope it's not all too bad :) enjoy. For the ppl that follow this account I'm so sorry I've been so inactive, I'll try post more <3

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It had happened quicker than you would've thought - in the span of a few seconds Tara and Sam's roommate (whom you didn't know well) is being shoved out of her room, blood splattering over the floor and Anika, who was pulled to the floor with the - now - dead Quinn.

She screeches as Quinn's dead body pulls her down with it, landing on her back on the hard floor. Everyone's screaming for yelling, but nothing registers in your mind as the infamous masked killer looks behind the door.

You're frozen, you've never been directly attacked by Ghostface, you've only heard about it from your friends who've been the victims before. "Go, go, go!" Sam yells and you nearly miss the sight of Chad dragging Tara behind him in a hurry to leave the apartment, their steps vanishing under the noise.

Sam is pushing against the door but with one harsh shove Ghostface is standing in front of you again. Sam runs to the kitchen, yelling something about getting knives, and you're left with the two other girls and whoever was under the mask.

Mindy's upper arm is slashed and bleeding profusely, "Shit, we gotta-" while you're all distracted trying to find a way out Ghostface manages to get in, knife raised. "Fuck!" You curse when Anika doesn't hesitate and pushes the killer to the floor.

They gather themselves quickly - too quick for Anika and Mindy to escape. They seem to almost completely disregard you as they charge for Mindy. You had no idea why they were focusing on her but you used it to your advantage.

With fast steps you're clinging to their back, arms around their throat to hinder them from hurting your friends even more. God, how you wished Ethan was here right now.

"Go, get out of here!" They look at you with conflicted faces but Mindy was in pain and could barely stand by herself. "I'll get back as soon as I can!" Anika whimpers.

When they leave the killer chuckles, "They left you all alone. Great friends," you're thrown off by the voice and the comment, your grip loosening. They seemed to have expected it and they rip your arms away, pinning you to the wall behind you.

"Fuck you," you growl and try kicking somewhere it'd hurt. You don't see the knife until it's in your abdomen and a painful scream rips from your throat.

The pain is hot white, searing through your body as they push the knife further upwards slowly, your blood oozing past their hand.

Your head is thrown back against the wall and you can almost feel your consciousness slipping from the numbing pain.

"Not today!" Sam suddenly yells and hits Ghostface over the head with something you can't decipher. They distinctly groan and fall to the floor again, you slumping over only barely holding onto the table next to you. Sam calls your name but you can barely move your hand from where it's pressing against the big wound.

"Fuck," she curses under her breath, "We gotta get out of here."

She helps you lay your arm over her shoulders and you try your best to walk with her, but the killer gets up again. You just cry out when you have to hide in Quinn's room.

There's blood on the floor - probably from when she was stabbed earlier - and Sam helps you sit on the bed as she hurriedly pushes a dresser in front of the door.

You're aware that the only way out is now blocked and you're close to giving up when Sam gasps. Looking up you see her reaching for something until she pulls- a ladder? forward and into the room.

She hurries to you and grabs your face in her bloodied hands, you recognize it as yours, "Okay, you'll have to climb over, the others are there, okay?" Everything is blurry when she pulls you over to the window, the ladder looking way too unsteady to safely get anything across this 10ft drop.

"Sam…" she's busy pushing the dresser back in place so you speak up again, "Sam, I won't be able to do this." She shakes her head and tries to interrupt but you stop her, "You go first. I'll be right behind, okay?" You manage a shaky smile and she's conflicted but there's shouts from the other apartment, her boyfriend and your friends waiting for you to make your decision.

She groans in frustration but nods, "Right behind me." She emphasizes and climbs onto the metall.

Your head falls down to your chest in exhaustion again, your blood staining your entire lower body a dark red.

You can hear the creaking from where Sam was climbing over until there's a shout of relief and soon your name, "Climb!"

It takes at least a minute to even walk to the window and by the time you've moved half a meter the dresser is pushed and the door is close to opening.

Your heart is beating so fast you're afraid it'll just completely stop any moment now, but with the encouragement and the thought of your boyfriend at home you manage to move across halfway before they reach the window.

Your friends go suspiciously quiet so you look up, "What?" That snaps them out of it and Chad yells for you to hurry up.

You catch a glimpse of someone storming into the apartment as well, and then curly hair and brown eyes are all you see as Ethan reaches towards you, "Grab my hand!" You whimper but the killer seems to have gone quiet on the other side so you remove the hand that was clutching your stomach and reach out.

You're shaking but manage to grab his hand and he pulls you through the window and into his arms. You feel tears leak out of your eyes and fall down your cheeks onto his shoulder before your head lolls to the side and your vision goes black.

-

When you wake up there's people moving around you and your head feels woozy. "She's up," one of them says and people are moving out of the way as someone rushes to your side.

"How are you feeling?" He asks and you turn to him, your eyes clearing to see it's Ethan. His eyes are wide and he doesn't know where to put his hands, awkwardly hovering over you.

A smile breaks out on your face and you grab his hand, feeling better than before. "Like I got stabbed?" You joke. He huffs but looks relieved and puts a hand on your cheek, thumb stroking under your eye.

"Do you know how scary it was when Chad called me and said you were trapped with Ghostface?" His voice is still a little shaky and you can see he was terrified. "Well I'm fine now," you offer.

He grunts and shrugs, "Sure you are." His hand falls from your cheek to your abdomen where a thick bandage is wrapped around. "They said you almost died because of the blood loss." He whispers, more to himself than to you and his hands are shaking.

"Oh, Ethan," you mumble and pull him closer with an arm around his neck. His shoulders are shaking and you can feel his tears against your neck. You keep him close to you, one hand buried in his hair. You smile at Tara who was standing a bit further away with the others.

Mindy had her arm wrapped in bandages and the others were seemingly discussing something. Tara nudges Chad with her elbow and he looks at her before his eyes move to you and his roommate cradled in your arms.

He smiles before smirking and taking his phone out and taking a picture. You chuckle and roll your eyes, holding your middle finger up, smile not leaving your face.

#ethan landry x reader #ethan landry #jack champion #jack champion x reader #scream #scream iv #scream 6 #chad meeks martin #mindy meeks martin #ghostface #anika kayoko #sam carpenter #tara carpenter

[hwanghyunjinenthusiast]

Kinkuary Day 8

AN: I want to make it clear that Black Eye Vernon is the Vernon of all time. He released that solo specifically for me, and I have at least 15 fic ideas involving Black Eye Vernon in particular. This is one of them. Is spitting and Vernon cliché? Yes. Will I still eat it up every single time? Yes.

Synopsis: Vernon always feels alive after a great show. One of his favourite ways to celebrate is with you. Especially when you indulge him.

General tags and warnings: Hansol Vernon Chwe x Fem! Reader, established relationship, rockstar! Vernon and I think that's it really. Very much pwp.

Primary kink: Spitting.

Smut tags and warnings: Not exactly power dynamics but, Reader is a little more in charge, pegging, masturbation, some praise, spitting, hints of overstimulation (m. receiving), cumplay and snowballing (sort of).

Word count: 1k.

I will block you if you are a minor and/or have no easily visible indication of your age on your blog if you interact with me in any way.

Vernon always looks electric on stage. Forcing everyone in the audience's eyes on him from the second his set begins until the very end. And you're no exception.

You've seen him perform more times than you can count by now but, you still find yourself drawn into his husky vocals and magnetic aura. Your pulse never fails to quicken when he shoots you a smile meant only for you to tell you he knows he absolutely killed it tonight. Even with the sweat dripping off of him and his smeared eyeliner, he looks like the he's king of the world.

Which is why you let him choose his favourite strap tonight. It's always been hard for you to tell him no in general but, it's especially difficult after he looks so proud and happy with himself. His heart-shaped smile nearly splitting his handsome face in half. How could you ever dream of saying no to him?

Watching him on stage is easily one of your favourite ways to drink him in but, if you're being honest with yourself, it doesn't even come close to the vision he creates sprawled out on his back. His black locks sticking to his sweaty forehead while his unfocused eyes stare off somewhere you could only hope to decipher. The smudge of his liner is always hot but, it's even more unfairly attractive now.

“You look so pretty, Nonnie,” you whisper in awe, clutching onto his hips tighter and delighting in the way his back arches when you thrust into him much harsher than before. He chokes on a moan of your name and you can feel your wetness smearing your inner thighs further. God, if you were a little more greedy you'd sit on his cock in an instant. However, tonight isn't about you.

You're not nearly as strong as Vernon. Really, he could easily squirm his way out of your hold but you know, despite the shyness he feigns, he enjoys this far too much. As evidenced by the throaty whimpers and groans that leave his bruised lips every time you fuck into him and the copious amounts of pre-cum leaking onto his stomach. It's hard to pick what to focus on when you fuck him. Between his gorgeous, fucked out face, his thick bobbing cock and his cute hole that spreads easily for his favourite toy, it's a difficult choice.

Vernon, however, makes that choice for you when his hand hurriedly grabs his cock and starts stroking it in a frenzy. The chains around his neck clink loudly against one another when he throws his head. Meeting your thrusts as best as he can while he fucks his fist. You're sure you've dripped onto his fancy hotel sheets by now but, you're too enamoured with the start of him falling apart to give too much thought to the dull pain between your thighs.

You can tell he can't quite get there yet when whines of frustration start to pour out of him. However, an idea quickly pops into your head and you can't help the grin that spreads across your face. Well, there's nothing wrong with relying on a tried and tested method.

“Nonnie, baby, open your mouth for me,” you command sweetly, noting the way his strokes falter and his eyes glaze over at your command. Vernon, being ever the obedient boy that he is, complies without any more prompting. His bruised lips parting for you in an instant, his tongue sticking out to ensure he doesn't miss a drop and fuck, does he look hot.

Collecting as much of your spit as you can, you lean down until you're close enough to see every mark on his face and his individual lashes. While you're fond of keeping him waiting, tonight isn't that kind of night. One of your hands moves from where it was digging into his hip to wind itself into his dark locks to angle him better. He moves willingly. Anticipating your next move. Fortunately for him, you don't keep him on the edge of his seat much longer. Spitting into his open mouth without any more fanfare.

His response is instantaneous.

He greedily swallows your spit, squeezing his eyes shut when his orgasm slams into him like a runaway train. His entire body shudders and squirms underneath you. Ropes and ropes of his thick, sticky cum decorating his cute stomach. You continue to fuck him through his release albeit much more slowly and gently. His throaty moans and choked groans all feeding the desire that's been simmer in your core since you got your hands on him what feels like hours ago.

“Ah fuck too-too much,” he manages to babble out, one of his hands gripping your wrist in an attempt to get you to stop abusing his sweet spot. As much as you'd love to push him just a little bit further, you think he's had enough for now so, you stop. Your gaze drifting from his flushed, sweaty face, down to his chest until you reach the streaks of cum on his stomach. Before you can stop yourself, you reach down to scoop up as much of his cum as you can with your fingers and shove them into your mouth. You moan the second he hits your tastebuds. Your eyes fluttering shut while you savour his taste.

It takes you a moment to realise that Vernon is watching this entire spectacle with wide eyes and parted lips. Despite cumming not too long ago, you do notice his cock jump. Maybe you will get to sit on it tonight after all.

Pushing that thought to the side, another idea springs to your mind and you're sure your face betrays your thoughts when you notice him gulp. It would be comical if you weren't so wet and worked up. Mixing his cum with your spit, you lean down towards him one more time. And fuck does your clit pulse at the way he opens his mouth eagerly and sticks out his tongue. You spit into his mouth much slower this time. Letting your combined fluids take their time hitting his tongue.

Still, it's eternally satisfying watching the way he melts when it does finally slip into his mouth. If you keep this up, you might just be able to get him hard again in record time. And based on the way he chases the taste of your spit and his cum with his pretty, pink tongue, you think he might be into the idea too.

Reblogs are greatly appreciated.

Do not repost, edit, copy and/or translate my work. I do not give you my permission to do so, nor will you ever receive it.

Kinkuary Masterlist | Seventeen Masterlist | Ko-fi.

#hansol vernon chwe smut #vernon chwe smut #chwe vernon smut #chwe hansol smut #vernon smut #hansol smut #seventeen smut #hansol vernon chwe x reader smut #vernon x reader smut #seventeen x reader smut #hansol x reader smut #vernon chwe x reader smut

[schoenht]

*Trembling with anticipation* How about something for a soulmate au with the octotrio (separately)? I do love myself some soulmate aus, no matter what kind.

↳ soulmate aus

characters: octotrio.

genre: fluff, soulmate au.

a/n: HELL YEAH had to pull up a list but omg these were so fun ESPECIALLY JADE'S I WAS GIGGLING THE WHOLE TIME

tagging: @taruruchi bc. octotrio. and azul's here

enemy’s name on one wrist, soulmate’s on the other au

There was only one name on Azul’s wrist. He had seen multiple people with names on both wrists but he only had one. Was that his soulmate? His enemy? Who was this person to him?

Maybe his enemy. He had seen you so many times in his classes and from the first meeting, you had crashed heads. He was too confident and you were too prideful. It was a bad combination, thus why the classes decided amongst themselves to separate you two to different ends of the class. But it was impossible to say that your name on his wrist meant that you definitely were his soulmate.

Perhaps there were more people with your name. He knew it was a stretch, he sensed it in his gut, but he was not going to allow himself to think you were his soulmate. You were his enemy, above all.

"Boss! Have you found your soulmate yet?" Floyd waltzed into his office with a mischievous grin on his face. "Oh wait, it might be your enemy!"

"Very funny, Floyd." Azul pulled up his sleeve after studying his wrist for the umpteenth time, as if trying to will the person to come out from the elegant lettering on his skin. "What do you want?"

"Perhaps we can help." Jade proceeded to come in, and already Azul knew that neither of these two was up to something good. As long as both the twins were involved in something, it only meant chaos and reckless abandon. Azul did not want that. Jade continued, "Maybe Y/N is your soulmate and your enemy. As the Vil fan accounts constantly say, 'Enemies to lovers 500k slowburn angst hurt to comfort fic'. It could work."

Azul's glasses were askew from the sheer mayhem he had just heard spew from Jade's mouth. "What in the Great Seven did you just say? I did not understand a word, but all I am getting at is that Y/N is a great pain."

"Oh, I'm sure, Azul. Might you consider that you staring at your wrist so frequently, just to see their name, could say something else?" Jade's smile was worse than Floyd's. They had matching Cheshire smiles, but something in Jade's face made Azul want to erupt into flames. His face was red, that much he knew, and he ordered the twins to leave. They left, trying to hold back their laughter.

He sighed, slouching on his desk. He needed advice, but maybe Jade was right. Maybe...you were his enemy and soulmate. The thought of that made him cringe and his face was pulled into a grimace.

But something happened to him that made him question everything he thought he knew. Whenever you weren't there, he found himself missing you. What was worse was the fact that when you were there, you drove him up the wall. He didn't understand this feeling and he would not tell the twins. If they knew, they would mercilessly bully him about it. They could not know.

When he was researching this feeling, he didn't know you were right behind him. You were snickering, shaking your head. "Studying about love, Ashengrotto? You've stooped to a new low if you can't decipher your own feelings. Who's the poor sap?"

Azul's face was red and he could feel his glasses steaming up. "If you must know, it's no one you know."

"Ah, come on, describe them to me! I'll put in a bad word for you." Then you were thoughtful. "Is it me?"

"What?! No!"

If Azul didn't know better, he would've said you were disheartened before you quickly pulled yourself together in record time. "So? What's up?"

"Why do you care?" He took his glasses off, cleaning them before putting them back on. He was taken aback when you suddenly grabbed his wrist. "Hey! Watch it, I just ironed my shirt!"

You cautiously peeled his sleeve away, inching it down. Your eyes went wide as you saw the elegant lettering of your name on his wrist. It was just like yours. You only had one name on your wrist and it was Azul's. You had known from the start, but felt as though he was just your enemy, since he acted like he hated you from the moment he saw you. You even thought you didn't have a soulmate. You did not expect your soulmate to be the guy you had crushed on, yet bantered with. "No way."

Azul gulped, his free hand tugging at his collar. "So...this is awkward."

"No kidding. Can I guess that it's actually me you're studying about?"

"Perhaps...we can come to a mutual compromise."

"That's a shitty way of asking me out. But yes, I accept."

reincarnation au

Jade had heard multiple things about soulmates, but he was a rare case. There was a legend surrounding the pairing where they would die and in every next life, they would find each other, true soulmates. The only mark they would have were star shaped moles under their eyes that shone at the sight of their soulmate. It was said that these moles meant that they had been together since they were stars. They had reincarnated over and over again, and found each other multiple times.

He would sometimes stay up at night, his stomach in knots for reasons he did not understand. His heart palpitated in his chest as speeds that were seemingly impossible to reach, but no matter how much he tried to calm it, it would not slow down. The only way it would finally stop was when he stared at the mirror, his eyes solely focused on the star shaped mole underneath his eye.

"Still haven't found them yet, Jade?" Floyd asked lazily when he pushed the door open to his brother's room without permission. But Jade only sighed. He usually was more patient than his brother, yet nowadays, he felt just as restless, if not more.

"No. It feels as though I'll never find them. Do you know the legend of the stars?"

Floyd smirked. "Yeah, duh. That's all anyone talks to me about! 'Your brother's part of the legend', or whatever. You're the next Chosen One."

Jade didn't know when he came down with a desire to ask his brother for advice, it was usually the other way around. The legend itself brought his hopes up. Maybe he would find his soulmate soon. Maybe. "What did you feel when you found your soulmate?"

Hearing his brother's quiet tone, Floyd decided not to tease him. Thoughtfully, he answered, "I don't know. I felt this sense of...fireworks! No, I'm lying to you. To be honest, it's a feeling of calm, y'know? No, you don't know. You will, you'll understand it soon."

What Jade didn't know was how accurate Floyd was. He knew that he was anticipating something, he didn't know what it was exactly. All he knew was that he needed to get his thoughts in order. Something was telling him to go to the same place he loved to go to think: an enormous tree overseeing the ocean.

It was nighttime and the stars were making their appearance, a full moon rising slowly, as if tentatively waiting for Jade's presence. When Jade was nearing his spot, he froze, seeing someone already there. That same person barely turned their head to catch Jade's gaze, and for the first time in a very long time, he was thrown off guard. The eye contact was enough to make him wonder who you were and as he got closer, the very feeling Floyd described poorly infiltrated him. He felt calm, but he felt as though he had finally found what he was missing, what he so desperately wanted.

On the other hand, you were staring at Jade as though you had seen him before. He got closer, yet you weren't moving away, you were not afraid of him. The second you made eye contact when you were close enough to see each other's faces, the memories came rushing in. Memories of your past life, of your past lives, of your previous love. The star under his eye was glowing and you were sure yours was too.

Jade's eyes welled up with reminiscence as he carefully took your hands in his. "I looked for you everywhere, my love. I did not want to wait for you, I wanted to be with you again, just as the stories said. I would rather be burned alive than be separated from you. There is nowhere I would go, without you at my side. I will cherish you even if I can't see you, and I will cherish you if I see you everyday. My love for you shall live forever."

feeling the same emotions as your soulmate au

Floyd was known for his mood swings. No one knew what his next step would be, the only thing they did know was how unpredictable he was. He would sometimes be angry when he was supposed to be happy, and sad when he was supposed to be happy. It all frustrated him internally because he knew it wasn't his fault. His soulmate was attached to his emotions, and as long as he didn't find his soulmate, he'd be stuck like this.

It all came down to going to NRC, where he was still having the mood swings. He thought that, at that point, he'd have found his soulmate. A lot of people that he knew had found their soulmates. Vil, Jade, even Trey had found their soulmates. He didn't want to ask any of them because they all thought he had mood swings. How was he supposed to explain that his soulmate made him angry at the worst times?

But seeing how happy people were when talking about their soulmates, it made him want to meet his more. He was constantly moody in class, not even because of his soulmate, but because he was so tired of not finding them.

"What if I don't have one, Boss?!" Floyd wailed as he dramatically draped himself over the couch that Azul had in his office. "What if I am destined to die alone? What if, for the rest of my life, I have to third, fifth, or seventh wheel?!"

Azul looked at him exasperatedly. "For the last time, this is not a therapy office and I am not your therapist. Get your shoes off my leather couch or I am taking away money from your salary."

"You're not listening!"

"Yes, I was."

"What did I say last, then?"

"Something about the invention of wheels."

"See?!" Floyd flopped backwards, even more frustrated and saddened than before. "I just want to have my normal emotions again. I hate feeling angry when I should be happy. How did you find your soulmate? It couldn't have been easy."

Azul shrugged. "There's this story about the beginning of time, regarding soulmates. They were little atoms that circled each other the entire time that they existed. Throughout time, they always found each other, no matter what. Do not push what is already set for you, Floyd. They will come."

"How did you know they were your soulmate?"

"Simple. I did not have to think about it."

Floyd was encouraged by this, thinking that within his upcoming years, he'd finally find his soulmate. He wouldn't push the topic any further, waiting instead. It was his second year and he was walking around, trying to find the Prefect that everyone talked so much about. He did not have to tell people to move aside, they stepped aside without a word.

You had been with Ace and Deuce, ignoring their plans to put salt instead of sugar in the shakers so they could prank Trey. You were weirdly neutral, and it was strange. Your soulmate was someone who had a lot of emotions, so the fact that they weren't doing anything made it even more suspicious. Lost in your own thoughts, you crashed into someone and bounced off immediately, rubbing your head. "Sorry, I--"

Ace and Deuce winced from beside you. "You're dead."

"So you're the Shrimpy!" Floyd was smiling before he tilted his head, a frown on his face. "Are you okay?"

"Yeah, just a little hurt." Something inside of you was twisting and it felt as though you had been involved with this guy, who you just met. "Do I know you?"

Floyd perked up and saw your face perk up against its own will. Once he placed his hand on your shoulder, your face relaxed back to its bewildered expression. He found you. After that talk with Azul of "atoms" being able to find their way back to each other, he found the piece of him that had been missing all along. It seemed like you knew it too, based on your stunned expression. "You're my soulmate!"

"It would seem so."

"Come on! We have so much to talk about, I've been waiting for the longest time, and I don't plan on letting you go for a while!"

#twisted wonderland x reader #twst x reader #azul x reader #jade x reader #floyd x reader #azul ashengrotto x reader #jade leech x reader #floyd leech x reader #azul x yuu #azul ashengrotto x yuu #jade x yuu #jade leech x yuu #floyd x yuu #floyd leech x yuu #azul x mc #azul ashengrotto x mc #jade x mc #jade leech x mc #floyd x mc #floyd leech x mc

[tulipsforvin]

Hello! May I request an albert/reader scenario where they’re not yet official but reader is always very very very clingy to albert whenever they’re sleepy and he just finds it cute and realizes he likes them a lot <3.

A/N: HELLOO! Thank you for the request, anon! I got you have a wonderful day ahead of you <3

Format: Story Writing. I'm guessing that's what you were asking for 😭

Tags: Fluff, Wholesome, Albert James Moriarty.

“Sleep & Realisation„

Albert J. Moriarty x GN!Reader

As autumn tiptoed upon the land, a subtle transformation began. The world adorned itself in a kaleidoscope of fiery hues, as if nature had set ablaze the very essence of beauty. The air turned crisp, carrying the intoxicating aroma of fallen leaves and wood smoke.

(Name) had found solace in Albert's office, as they always would during colder, darker weathers. Fire crackled in the fireplace, cascading orange light on both of their skins. The both sat besides each other on a sofa, Albert flipping through military based reports and (Name) resting their head on his shoulder.

The relationship that the two shared often teetered between one of romance and one of very close friendship — full of witty bantering and teasing each other.

Their eyes drowsily scanned the room, going over the walls and the portraits hung on them, travelling to his desk where there laid photo frames of his closest people - along with one of (Name) and Albert together.

Soon, (Name)'s gaze rested upon the clock on the wall, the time indicating that it had gone very well past twilight and yet Albert would not budge from his work.

(Name) yawns, tugging at his sleeve so he can turn his attention to them instead of his work.

“Not yet, (Name). I'm still in the middle of deciphering a crucial code.” He murmurs, stealing a glance at their sleepy form.

(Name) huffs, looking up at Albert's figure with lidded eyes.

“Perhaps you should head to bed early? You look as if you're on the brink of passing out any second now.” He wraps an arm around (Name)'s shoulder, drawing them in closer.

A sleepy, soft whine and a sluggish shake of their head makes Albert glances up from his work and turns his head towards (Name), raising a curious eyebrow — especially when they bury their face into his neck, inhaling his comforting, warm cologne.

“Oh? Whatever could this mean?” Albert teases lightly, his lips pulling back into the most subtle of smiles, gazing over their drowsy features with mild amusement.

“What else?” (Name) lazily pokes his ribs with their elbow. “That 'm sleepy, ofcourse.”

Albert's face softens almost immediately, putting down the reports and turning fully towards (Name) so that they now rest limply against his chest. (Name) idly wraps their arms around his waist, snuggling up to him.

“Is that so?” He whispers softly, smiling.

“Mm...” Comes (Name)'s short response, too weary to say more.

He pushes a lock of hair behind their ears, using one to slowly and languidly rub their back while using the other to stroke the back of their head repeatedly.

He rocks the two of them back and forth until he finally feels (Name)'s breath slow down and feel them lay even further against him.

“..(Name)?” His voice is barely audible.

No response. The only sounds that now fill his office were the light noises of the fire crackling and the two's calm, slow breaths.

He pulls back ever so slightly to gaze over (Name)'s delicate face, feeling himself chuckle sweetly when he looks at their relaxed expression, all nuzzled up to him.

“Adorable.” Albert hums, feeling his heart swell with affection for them. He lays them down on his lap, caressing (Name)'s hair repeatedly in a languid pace; all while he has a stupid grin on his face — one that he can't seem to wipe away.

He picks up the reports again, his eyes scanning every line quietly. Aware that he's reading through the lines but not really understanding them, he sighs and puts the papers down again. He leans back against the sofa, eyes locked to the ceiling above them.

He closes his eyes. And the moment he does, what he sees is not darkness but (Name). What he was only hearing moments ago; the crackles of the fireplace, has now been replaced by the distant echo of their laughter, ringing in his ears. He finds himself smiling idly to memories of them and him, playing out over and over in his mind.

His heart begins to suddenly thump in his chest and he places a hand over it almost reflexively, as if it would wake (Name) up if his heartbeats were too loud.

The realization suddenly begins to set in, creeping up his bones.

“..Ah.” He straightens his back almost immediately, eyelids snapping open. His gaze warily falls back to the figure sleeping comfortably in his lap - not a care in the world.

He runs a hand through his hair, exhaling softly. “Look at what you've done to me.” He murmurs, his gaze falling to (Name)'s lips.

“I've become completely and utterly besotted with you, (Name).” Albert whispers, leaning down to press his lips against their nose.

#albert james moriarty x y/n #mtp albert #albert james moriarty x you #albert james moriarty x reader #albert james moriarty #james moriarty #yuukoku no moriarty #moriarty the patriot #serraphim answers #serraphim

[bonezone44]

Muddy Waters, pt. 2 (18+)

'Muddy Waters'

Ezra x F!Reader x Joel Miller

Summary: You keep hearing someone calling your name and you fear for your life (it's cool, though. you're fine). You visit Joel Miller to see what he wants.

Word Count: 5,8k

Part 1 Part 3 (story masterlist) (my masterlist)

tags: NSFW 18+. Intuitive!Reader. Afab!Reader (she/they). Southern!Reader. Established Ezra x F!Reader. Polyam. No use of Y/N.

This Chapter: Pet names: baby, darlin. dry-humping, brief masturbation (m), coming in pants, cuckolding (i think it counts).

Author's Note: I've been putting off very important responsibilities to write this chapter because I literally can't stop thinking about this. <3 god bless y'all. (It'll be a while for the 3rd chapter)

+++++

You placed your hand on your stomach in an attempt to ease your nerves.

You had been sick with worry and paranoia for over a week.

Two days after you visited Joel Miller for the first time, you ventured to the stables. You had planned to help out Jerome and brush some of the horses, but changed your mind once you got there. It was too beautiful of an afternoon to do anything. The sun was bright and beaming and the clouds were thin and wispy. The air: warm and dry. You walked over to one of the empty corrals and climbed up–sitting yourself on the wooden rail with your chest high. You greeted the great Helios above with your eyes shut and a closed-lip smile on your face. One hand anchored you to the nearest post as the other stretched down and out from your side–fingertips providing a small counterbalance to keep you steady. You washed and basked in the pulses of ultraviolet frequencies as they massaged and vibrated all the pains and worries straight right outta your soul.

It felt so good to be alive.

You wished everyone had the time to sit and absorb the goodness our universe had to offer. You wished everyone in town could take a whole day off to do nothing but vegetate in the elements. Whether they wanted to soak in some water or back in the sun or find peace in the cool air of a cave. You wanted everyone to feel as free as you felt in that moment, meditating on the giant ball of chemical explosions that kept our planet alive from millions of miles away.

You could hear the snorts and clops from the horses in the stables and part of you wished they were all free and running wild across the Wyoming prairies. You heard the blades of grass rustling against one another in the breeze. You heard the distant chatter of town–hammers, music, a vague cloud of conversation. There were closer voices, too. Stablehands talking while they worked.

Then, at a distance you couldn’t decipher, you heard someone calling your name. But you didn’t want to turn around, yet. Too enraptured in the healing power of the sun. And if it was Jerome, you knew he would find you soon enough.

But when you heard it a second time, you figured it was a sign to stop loafing around.

You sighed and abandoned your little paradise–reluctantly venturing back into social order. You hopped down from the fence and wobbled a little. Your muscles had gone stiff from their unmoving positions. You honestly don’t know how long you were sitting there.

You looked around as you stretched but didn’t see anyone–well, anyone who seemed to be looking for you, anyway. You headed over to the stables. Jerome was inside talking to one of the other handlers.

“Hey,” you greeted him with a smile. “Were you lookin for me?”

Jerome’s brow twisted. “No,” he answered simply. “I mean, I saw you out there but I figured I’d leave you alone and let you do your thing.”

An embarrassed smile bloomed on your face and you tucked your head down. “Yeah, it’s nice out.”

“It is.” He smiled wide and pleasant. “It’s good to know someone gets to enjoy it.”

You knew he meant what he was saying, but shame lingered across your skin. “I–uh, I thought I heard someone callin me.”

He shook his head. “No one from in here.”

“Huh.”

That was weird.

The next day, you woke up with a burst of energy and decided to use it to clean up the apartment. You and Ezra were fairly sloppy on your own, but your powers combined could turn a museum into a dumpster in the matter of minutes. You were folding the mountain of laundry on the couch when you heard Ezra calling you from the bedroom. It was strange for him to say your name instead of ‘baby’ or ‘precious’ or some other tender moniker. So instead of answering aloud, you walked to him–worry building in your mind. When you got to the bedroom and opened the door, he was fast asleep and snoring. Drool soaking into the blue cotton pillowcase.

You would have brushed it all off, chalked it up to your mind playing tricks on you. But then, later that day, it happened again in town. 

You were trotting along to the general store when you heard your name shouted. You stopped so abruptly that the person walking behind you ran smack-dab into your back. 

She apologized. You waved her off. 

You didn’t even look at who it was that hit you, your eyes too busy scanning the street.

But there was no one.

Well, yeah, technically there were people out there walking around and going about their business. But none of them seemed to be the one calling your name.

You walked straight home after that.

Later in the evening, while Ezra was out on patrol, and you were lying in bed and on the cusp of slumber–you heard it again. And it was loud. Loud and clear enough for you to distinguish that it was a man’s voice. You just couldn’t recognize whose.

You shot up from the bed in a panic and searched the whole three room apartment. You emptied the kitchen cabinets and the drawers and pulled the dresser from against the wall and rolled up all the rugs.

Someone was looking for you and you knew it.

Ezra came home the next morning to you wide-eyed and trembling in a ball on the couch.

“Uhh… baby?” His eyes slowly circled the disaster you had spent hours re-creating after spending the whole previous day cleaning. He took a slow step forward. “W-What happened?”

“They’re comin for me, Ezra. They’re comin for me and I know it.” You growled and pounded your fist on your knee. “I know it!”

“Who’s comin for you, baby?” he asked softly.

“I don’t know… exactly,” you muttered. “I’ve been narrowin it down and I think it was that guy’s brother that I killed.”

Ezra closed his eyes and took a deep breath. He wiped his bare hand down his face, scratching the scruff along his jaw.

Your lips trembled. “Him and his friends are comin for me. I know it. I know they are.”

He tip-toed around the debris strewn about the floor. He sat down next to you and wrapped his arm around your tense shoulders. “Baby, I explained that to you. You did what you had to do to–”

“That’s not what this is about!” you spat and nudged him away.

He scooted back with his palms up in surrender.

“Someone has been calling my name! I keep hearing it again and again and when I turn around there’s no one! No one! But they’re calling for me like they’re comin for me! Like they’re gonna kill me!” Your eyes filled with tears.

“No one is gonna hurt you, baby.” Ezra’s hand gently squeezed your thigh.

“You don’t know that!” He made you furious sometimes, thinking he knew everything in the world. He couldn’t know someone wasn’t gonna hurt you because you knew that somebody was.

“I do, actually,” he responded with an attitude. “Because me and everyone else in this little town are here to take care of you and guard you from any harm.”

“That’s–that’s not–” you shook your head, but you couldn’t bring yourself to fully deny it. No, not everyone in the town existed to serve you, specifically. But you had made connections in Jackson. Real, emotional connections. You had made some real friends for the first time since you were a child. Jackson was becoming your new family. You knew that the people around you would protect you just as you would protect them.

Ezra was right and the thought of it all finally broke you.

“I don’t want to die!” You sobbed, gut spasming and tears flowing. “I’m not ready to go, yet!” You fell over into Ezra’s lap and wrapped your arms around his waist.

“Then we will all ensure that you do not go.” His warm hand gently pet your shoulder.

You continued to cry, surrendering all your tension to Ezra’s comforting love and to all the people of Jackson.

+++++

You were able to get some rest, but that didn’t mean you were going to be leaving the apartment anytime soon. You holed yourself up just to be safe. And the more you resisted the call, the stronger it became, feeling like someone was tugging you to come outside your sanctuary and—well… that was what scared you so much. You had no idea what they wanted from you. Just that they wanted something . Otherwise, what the hell would they be calling you for?

So when Ezra came home and told you that Joel Miller had been asking for you, you pieced the two together and saw a vision of him in your mind. Clear as day. He was standing on his front porch in a green button-up and combed hair. His hand was curved around his mouth and he was shouting your name–waving for you to come over.

But why was he looking for you? Why didn’t he just come over to your apartment? It was a small town. Everybody knew where you lived. And if he didn’t, he could have just asked Ezra or… anyone else for that matter.

Part of you wanted to find him immediately and share some choice words, but another part of you said ‘No. Make him wait.’ You had been suffering for days. Joel could suffer at least one more.

+++++

Ellie answered the door when you showed up and she pulled you into a tight hug. You hugged her back, but she kept holding on. You had never figured out how to measure the appropriate amount of time to hug someone. Everyone was different, you had learned. Especially around Jackson. So you stayed, hugging back, until she let go.

“What are you doing here?” she looked up at you.

“I’m just here to bother Joel. What are you doing here?”

She gasped. “I’m also here to bother Joel!” She grabbed your hand. “Let’s go bother him together!”

“Okay!” you answered with bright eyes and let her tug you around.

“Joel!” she shouted.

“What?” you heard him answer gruffly from another room.

“You have a visitor!” she said with emphasis on the ‘tore.’

You heard him scoff and then you heard his boots stomping down the hall. Once he emerged and saw you standing there in his kitchen, all his tension fell away. He looked surprised, but pleased, to see you.

“Hey,” he said while his mouth hung open, quirking upward at the edges.

All that fire you had inside of you the day before had disappeared at the sight of him. His jeans wrapped tight around his thighs. His hair slicked back like he just showered. He wore a dark t-shirt with only the edge tucked in at his belt buckle. “Hi,” you smiled once you found his eyes.

“We’re here to bother you!” said Ellie.

Joel turned to her and that angry scoff repeated itself. “Go occupy yourself, Ellie.”

She huffed. “Why?”

He put his hands on his hips and glared with wide eyes. He briefly pointed to you. “She needs some work done on her house. You wanna stay and hear us talk about it?”

Ellie let out a long, fitful groan and turned to you. “Contracting is so boring! ” She kicked her foot. “It used to be cool til I had to deal with it every–single–day! You guys suck.” She swiftly turned back to Joel on her heels. “Can I go stay the night at Dina’s?”

“Yeah.” He threw his hand up. “Just come home for breakfast.”

Ellie let out an evil chuckle and grabbed her backpack on the way out the door.

You were impressed by how quickly he got rid of Ellie. You figured he must do it a lot to have a ready excuse on hand. But now that you had Joel alone, you didn’t know where to begin.

“How are you?” you asked quickly, satisfied to start off simply.

“Good.” Joel stared at you a moment with a small smile and his hands in the pockets of his jeans. His eyes turned to his cabinets. “You want somethin to drink?”

“Sure.”

He pulled out a bottle of dark liquid. “I got whiskey.”

“Ehh, no thanks,” you said and sat down at the table.

Joel was taken aback. “You don’t like whiskey?”

“Nah, I don’t like the taste.” You waved him off. “It’s alright. I don’t need anything.”

"Sorry,” he frowned. “S’all I got besides Rena’s moonshine.”

“Ooh! I’ll have that!”

“What?” He looked at you befuddled. “You like Rena’s moonshine over aged whiskey?”

“Yeah!”

He shook his head and sighed. “Well, alright then.” He pulled out two glasses and poured your drinks, replacing the bottles in the cabinet. He sat your glass next to you with a soft thunk on the wooden tabletop. He took his own seat at the opposite end, six feet away.

It felt different than the last time you visited and you couldn’t put a finger on why. The world outside, the past week or so–it all felt so far away.

“So what did you need me for?” you asked casually and sipped your moonshine. It was sharp and brutal and you coughed a little. Moonshine wasn’t meant to be sipped, but it didn’t feel right to down the whole glass at once. The man just sat down. You didn’t wanna make him get up again.

“What?” Joel glanced at the door and then back to you. “You just came here.” He punctuated with his finger on the table. “I figured you needed me for something.”

“Well, no. I mean–” You waved your hand around. “--you’ve been looking for me.”

“I– hmm …” He stared at you with his lips between his teeth and a question in his eyes. “Ezra mentioned you thought someone was lookin for you.” He tilted his head. “What was it that was makin you think that?”

“I kept hearing someone calling my name,” you answered plainly.

“Callin your name?” He shook his head. “Like… how? Just out loud?”

“I mean, kinda. It sounded like someone off in the distance. But it was more like a thought. Like a really loud thought.”

“Someone thinkin your name?”

“No. Just callin for me. Tryin to get my attention. Wantin me for somethin.”

He nodded slowly, fingers on his glass. “And you think it was me?”

“Well, yeah.” You responded as if it was obvious. “Ezra mentioned you asked about me and–”

“Did no one else ask about you? I mean, you were out and about all the time and then outta nowhere you just kinda… stopped.”

“No, there were others, but–”

“You makin house calls to them, too?”

“...No.” You were starting to doubt yourself, feeling Joel poke at you the way he was. But at the time, it was so loud and so clear–there was no room for misinterpretation.

“Just me, then?” he asked.

“Y-yeah.” You suddenly felt so stupid. Maybe you did fuck up. 

But it felt so real, though.

You took another sip of moonshine.

“So you thought I was callin for you–” he leaned back, smirking, looking cocky as hell. “--and you just came runnin?”

“I–” you blinked. Is that how it looks? Is that what really just happened? “I just wanted to see what you wanted,” you mumbled.

“Okay,” Joel chuckled. “Alright.” He took a sip of his whiskey.

You stared at your own glass–head swirling around with worry. ‘ Did I make it all up in my head again?’ You drank the rest of your moonshine in one go–social graces be damned.

Joel chuckled again. “You want s’more?”

“Sure,” you nodded rapidly.

He rose from his chair and pulled the jar of moonshine out again. “Ezra told me about when you made him go to LSU.”

You sighed. Grateful for the change of topic. “Yeah, he loves tellin that story.” You waved your hand. “He’s always goin crazy with it.”

His brow furrowed as he walked back over to you and refilled your glass. “It didn’t happen?”

“No, it did. I mean–” you smile warmly and shake your head. “--He always says we walked for twenty four hours, but he doesn’t know that for sure.” You two have argued countless times over it. “We didn’t have watches on.” You pointed at the one on Joel’s wrist. “It could have been sixteen or twenty or something.”

“But you did it.” Joel sat back down, leaving the jar of moonshine on the table.

“Yeah.”

“How’d you know where to go?”

“LSU used to be used as a hurricane shelter before the outbreak and sure enough, it got turned into a safe haven afterwards. We’d been hearin talk about it for a while, so it was our best bet. We walked from one interstate to the next, following the road signs like anyone else would.”

Joel hummed. “That makes sense.” He smiled briefly. “But… how did you know? How did you know for sure that they could help? That they would help?”

“Well, we didn’t exactly have any other options. He wanted to go to Florida but that meant crossin New Orleans from where we were at.” You looked at Joel dumbly. “I mean… New Orleans? After all that shit–” you spun your finger in the air. “--went down?” You shook your head. “Nuh-uh. I was not about to do all that. I mean, Baton Rouge ain’t much better but I knew New Orleans was a fuckin death trap.” You placed your hand on your chest. “No matter how near and dear that city was to my heart.”

He gave you another brief smile before he leaned forward, elbows on the table. “But what if you were wrong?”

You shrugged. “Well, that woulda fuckin sucked then, wouldn’t it?”

“Yeah, I guess so.” He leaned back and laughed.

Making him laugh, making his face relax–even briefly–sent a warmth through you strong enough that you had to look away. You felt it between your legs, too, much to your embarrassment. But you could easily blame that on the alcohol. That’s just how you got when the poison kicked in. That and you started cursing a lot more.

It may have gotten a laugh out of him, but you needed to rein yourself in.

“Ezra makes it sound like I’m magic or psychic or something. But I’m not. I mean, everybody has an intuition. Mine is just really strong sometimes. And,” you shrugged as your lips grew into a tight smile. “Even then, sometimes I’m wrong.” Your eyes wandered the kitchen’s yellow walls. “Sometimes it’s all in my head.”

He grunted and nodded. Took another sip of his whiskey. “How long have you known Ezra?”

“Oh, since the beginning, really. He tells the story better than I do.” You tried to wave him off. “He makes it funnier.”

Joel leaned back in his chair with a smirk. “Maybe I want the real story.”

You fought to hide your glowing smile. Between the two of you, Ezra was the storyteller and you were the listener. It wasn’t often you got to share your version of things. “I met him in a grocery store.” You played with the glass on the table as the words tumbled out of you. “I was alone and… following a trail of dead infected and, I don’t know, maybe some uninfected, too. I didn’t look all that closely. I was just lookin for somebody with a gun. And somebody had to be killin all those things. So I–” you threw your hand up. “--barged through the front doors and started singin at the top of my lungs hopin they would just shoot me and put me out of my misery.” Your eyes went wide as you stared at your glass distorting the wood grain beneath it.

“Why didn’t they?”

“Ezra says they were all too excited to see a girl the same age as them.” You looked up at Joel with only your eyes. “But I think they were conservin ammo, because I–” you pointed at your chest. “--I looked like shit.”

He smiled.

“Then… I started singin into those big deep freezers ‘cause they were empty and it made my voice echo all funny.” You grinned. “I was tryin to be real annoyin. Hopin it would make them just… get it over with quicker.” You smiled at yourself. You hadn’t had the strength to say you’d been bit. That would have really been the way to get the job done. “Ezra said his cousins were arguin over what to do, but he wound up choosin for ‘em because he comes outta the back screamin at me.” You remember how he looked, too. In a black Tool t-shirt and dirty jeans. His hair was matted with sweat and his beard was sparse and prickly. He looked like a tall, thin rat holding onto a shotgun by its barrel. “But he was screamin at me ‘cause I was singin the words wrong.”

“That’s what did it, huh?” Joel chuckled.

“Yep.” You nodded. “Ezra was trying to correct me and I shouted at him–” you screwed up your face. “--’Who cares about the lyrics? It’s the end of the world!’ and he yelled back, ‘No, it isn’t!’” You threw your fists down just like he did–like a little boy trying to get his way. “And he yanked me into the back room and introduced me to him and his cousins and gave me a knife.” You smirked at Joel with a shrug.

He grinned. Long fingers toying with his glass. “So that was it, huh?”

“That was it,” you said with a wave of your hand.

Joel wore a soft smile on his lips as he sipped his whiskey. “You’ve known him that long, huh?”

“Yep.” You tried not to think about it. All those memories and untold stories threatening to boil over your placid surface.

He tilted his head. He opened his mouth to say something before deciding otherwise. “You two are just… different.”

“In some ways we are, but we have a hell of a lot in common, too.” You nodded at Joel. Determined to stay cool, calm, and collected. “It’s been a long journey,” you added simply. 

“Sounds like it.” He stared at you with an expression you couldn’t decipher. Something in his eyes was changing.

You smiled back politely as you tried to ignore the feeling in your gut–hoping that if you ignored it, then it would go away ( as if that ever fuckin worked ).

“Does he know you’re here right now?” Joel asked, brows up and worried.

You blinked. The way he asked it made you feel like you were doing something wrong. As if this visit was somehow tawdry. “He knows.”

“And it doesn’t bother him?”

“Should it?” Would it? You wondered.

“Maybe.”

You didn’t know how to respond. Anxiety bubbled inside of you. You felt sunken into the chair and–you realized–if you were there for less-than-pure reasons, you didn’t exactly mind.

Not with him standing up from his chair, jeans bulging between his legs, hair slowly curling as it dried.

He walked to your end of the table, jar of moonshine in his hand and refilled your glass. You hadn’t noticed that you emptied again. “I would want my woman visiting another man at night alone.” He screwed the lid back on the jar, metal ridges sliding against the glass. “Drinking all their liquor.”

Everything in the room had then shifted a few degrees. The air felt more humid. Your hearing felt cotton-y. The color of the floors and walls looked warmer–tinted red. You sipped the moonshine and it didn’t burn this time. It felt like the same temperature as the rest of you. 

“Ezra doesn’t keep me on a leash.” You looked up at him with just your eyes. He hadn’t moved yet. Still standing tall next to you. He was so close, so near. You could feel the heat coming from him–somehow distinct from the rest of the room. He smelled like leather. Leather and the whiskey he had been drinking. 

His hand moved forward, and two knuckles grazed your neck. “Do you want to be kept on a leash?”

You closed your eyes and sucked in a sharp breath of air. His touch sent pulses of electricity down your body. You could feel it in your gut, too. Strong oscillating waves of gravity pulling you towards him. A flurry of images played in your mind at a speed too fast to hold on to. You leaned your head back, but you didn’t move yourself away from his touch. “No. I don’t.”

His hand found its way to the back of your neck. His fingers scratched into your scalp. “You want something, though. Don’tchu?”

You kept your eyes closed, melting into his affection. “I-I don’t know.” You didn’t know how to voice it. You were too afraid to. Too afraid of saying the wrong thing and him stopping.

“Well, you came over here for somethin–”

You looked up at him with furrowed brows. “I came over here because you wanted somethin.”

“Right, right.” Joel chuckled. “It was all me.”

“It was you.” You gritted your teeth. He was playing tricks on you and you knew it. If he hadn’t wanted you, he wouldn’t have been touching you the way he was. All tender and perfect.

“Sure thing, darlin.” Joel shook his head with a smile.

You rolled your eyes and he released your head. You immediately missed his touch.

He put his hands on his hips. “But even if it was, you still showed up, didn’t you?”

“I–” you wanted to argue, but you couldn’t. You were too warm, too turned on, too eager to see where Joel wanted to take you. He was standing waist high in swirling, muddy waters and offering you his hand. You sighed. “You’re right. I did.”

Ambrosial. That was what Ezra would call it when you gave into those urges that everyone else told you to keep at bay. Divine. “I can’t keep this from him. From Ezra.”

“That’s good,” he said quickly and earnestly. He pulled out the chair next to you and moved it to your side, so he could sit down without the table between you. He put his large hand on your knee, thumb on one side and long fingers splayed on the other. “Cause I want you to tell him everything,” he said harshly. His hand slid up your thigh with a light squeeze. “I want him to know–everything .”

Your mouth hung open in shock. Nothing had even happened yet exactly but goddamn his hand on you felt like a searing hot stove and you wanted to be branded. Branded all over. You wanted marks and bruises and aching bones that told everyone in town what Joel did to you to get off–not just for Ezra’s knowledge.

Fuck, it felt so good to be alive.

“D-Do you often go lookin for women who already have partners?”

“No,” he said quickly with a shake of his head. His other hand joined the first, rubbing up and down your thighs. “First time.” He said licking his lips and staring at yours.

Your stomach swooped. You wanted to kiss those lips but you couldn’t will yourself to move.

“Can’t help myself, I guess,” he smirked at you, looking into your eyes. “Can’t help but think–” the man looked starving for you. “--that you could use somethin different after all these years.”

You felt like you were gonna faint. You had never–no one had ever hypnotized you before with such basic, carnal desire. And Ezra– “Ezra’s the only man… I’ve ever been with.”

“Good,” he nodded. “I like that.” One hand left your thigh and found your neck, fingers wrapping and guiding you towards him. He pressed his lips into yours and you could taste his whiskey–a taste much better indulged on someone else’s lips–no, on his lips. 

Joel Miller, a man you barely knew, was kissing you in his house at his beautifully lime-washed kitchen table.

Too much.

Too new.

Your brain couldn’t compute.

He broke his lips from you briefly and pulled you upward to stand. With his hands on your hips, he guided you to sit on the table.

You anxiously grazed his body along the edge of your palms. Your limbs felt detached as they moved in slow motion.

He pulled away, smirking. “You this soft with Ezra?”

You wanted to hide your face. “No, I just… don’t know what to do–what you want.”

He grinned wide, hazy eyes staring at your lips. “I want whatever you want, darlin.” He grinded his clothed hardness between your legs. “C’mon, now.”

You moaned at his girth pressing into you. “Okay, okay,” you nodded.

You grabbed the back of his neck and licked into his mouth. Your other hand scratched up his back and then pulled his chest tight against you. You rolled your hips into his, cunt pulsing around nothing–just the anticipation of his fat cock stretching you out.

“That’s what I’m talkin ‘bout.” He grunted and thrusted hard against you. “That’s what I want.”

You kept at it, rubbing your clit against his thickness. You were both fully clothed, dry humping like horny teenagers. But you didn’t wanna stop to take anything off. Didn’t wanna do a single thing different. You continued chasing your high, moaning and whimpering.

Joel matched your rhythm. His hands squeezed your ass cheeks, molding and toying with what he could through the thick fabric of your pants. Mouth sucking and tonguing your neck–leaving cooling lines of spit.

“Oh my god!” You cried out, feeling that tell-tale burn rising up in you.

“Yeah? You gonna come, darlin?” Joel spoke into the skin beneath your ear. “You gonna come and I ain’t even touched you, yet?”

“Mhmm! Mhmm!” You panted and writhed against him.

The whole table was moving and shaking and scraping the floor. Every grunt and moan reverberated and echoed loud and uninhibited. Your empty glass of moonshine fell over and Joel reached out to pick it up in his hand.

You bit into his shoulder when you came with a sharp sob–mouth full of his cotton t-shirt and whatever flesh you were able to grab beneath it.

“Fuck, darlin,” Joel groaned, his hips slowing and stopping. He released the glass from his hand and pushed you back flat on the table. He pulled your shirt up, exposing only your stomach. He rushed to get his cock out, unbuttoning and unzipping his pants in the flash of a second.

Your stomach dropped at the sight of it, russet and aching. Uncut and angry. He wrapped his hand around the head, pumping himself furiously.

Your cunt was still pulsing, aftershocks rippling through every muscle in your abdomen. 

He slapped his free hand down on the table next to your shoulder and leaned over you. He looked into your eyes–his own were red and glazed over. His expression was pained–lips and brows pulled tight. He called out your name and it echoed in your mind like it had for the past week and a half. Him calling and calling for you. Again and again.

His hips stilled suddenly and he came on your stomach, spend soaking into the edges of your shirt and pants.

You looked up at him with wonder. Wondering what was happening and what it all meant.

He sighed with a smirk and fell on top of you, nuzzling into your neck.

You wrapped your arms around him, hands sliding up  and down the planes of his back as air filled and emptied his lungs.

“That was good,” he said, kissing you softly.

“Yeah.” The word came out of you with a breath. “It really was.” You stared at his ceiling, wondering if the light fixture came with the house or if Joel had replaced it himself.

+++++++

Just like you said you would, and just like Joel told you to, you told Ezra everything. You tried to start at the beginning and work your way through but there were so many emotions involved and you kept jumping around and trying to explain it all out while you were wringing your hands and pacing the small main room of your apartment.

Ezra looked dazed the whole time you spoke, only glancing at you every once in a while. It made you so nervous that you couldn’t stop–you couldn’t stop talking and describing and explaining.

“Are you gonna fuck him?” he asked, eyes half-lidded, his breaths short and high in his chest.

“I-I-I don’t know.” You hadn’t exactly made more plans with Joel.

“You wanna fuck him?”

“Yeah.” There was no denying it. “I do.”

He looked like he was gonna be sick and it scared you. Then his hand slid between his legs and he started palming himself. You hadn’t noticed he was hard.

“You wanna fuck him, baby?” he asked again, more urgently. “You wanna fuck him?”

You nodded. “Yeah,” you whispered.

“Yeah?” He cried out. “Yeah?” he asked louder.

“Yeah, baby.” You said as you looked into his fervent gaze. “I wanna fuck him.”

Ezra’s whole body went tense. His eyes shut tight as he keened, squeezing himself through his jeans. It took a few minutes for him to come back down. His breathing was heavy as he rested his head on the back of the couch.

He looked like he had gotten the fuck of his lifetime and all he had done was sit there. He swallowed hard. His adam’s apple bobbing. “I don’t think–” He licked his lips. “I don’t think I’ve come that hard since I was in juvie.”

You put your hands on your hips, staring down at this man you’d known and grown to love over the course of twenty years. You laughed.

Ezra picked up his head and smirked. Then he started laughing, too.

For how good it all was, it still scared the shit outta you. You barely knew Joel. You barely knew anyone in Jackson, in a way. For all the good will you’d developed over your time there, you weren’t sure what kind of social consequences would occur if word got out about this.

You also weren’t sure if you really gave a shit.

--------------

there's more chapters to come, fyi!

Authors Note: What song were you singing that Ezra was correcting you on? That's up to YOU! I didn't wanna be too specific. In my mind, Ezra was definitely into Tool, Rage Against The Machine, Jay Z. I bet Ezra lost his damn mind the first time he heard hip-hop.

tags: @toxicanonymity @walkintotheriveranddisappear (oops! forgot to tag u!)

Part 1 part 3

(story masterlist)

(my masterlist)

#ezra prospect #ezra x f!reader #ezra x reader x joel miller #ezra x reader #joel miller x reader #joel miller x f!reader #muddy waters series

[mins-fins]

❛ pink hearts ❜ — seok matthew

| synopsis . . . where seok matthew desperately tries to work up the courage to ask the cute boy that works at the local bubble tea shop out on a date.

| tags . . . seok matthew x m!reader , college au , fluffy fluff , matthew is really in love , reader is a boba barista , new layout cause why not lol , hanbin is so tired , don't worry they get that date though!

| warnings . . . none!

"matthew if your gonna stare you may as well just go in".

"hanbin shut up!"

if matthew is anything, he is someone who falls in love easily. he likes to admire people, even if he doesn't necessarily have a deep conversation with the person to end up falling hard for them.

that is exactly what is going on in this situation.

when i said that matthew likes to admire, i really meant it, because for the past fifteen minutes he's simply been admiring the boy who works the counter at the bubble tea shop instead of actually going in and ordering.

matthew wouldn't say they've talked, (if by talked you mean they said hi and hello then yeah they've talked), because he can't work up the courage to make any more conversation with him.

"matthew, if you want to talk to him so bad then do it" hanbin states firmly, and matthew turns to give his friend a glare.

"your supposed to help me!"

"your standing around like a creep how do i help you?" hanbin scoffs, matthew struggles to form a coherent sentence as he continues to glare at the sung, who laughs at his expression.

"i don't know mr 'i'm a love expert'" matthew begins, mimicking hanbin's voice. "your the one who said you wanted to help me!"

"how are you gonna ask him out if you can't even actually talk to him first?"

"i don't know! that's why i asked you to help me!"

"that's stupid matthew!"

matthew really can't control this random crush he developed out of the blue. the boy who works at the counter is just so pretty, soft spoken, and easygoing, literally anybody would fall in love.

his heart is way too weak for someone with that smile, he always wants to melt into a puddle whenever he hears the familiar; hi what can i get you today?

his voice is so pretty— so nice.

he even started remembering matthew's order, which makes him want to melt even more since he's actually so pretty.

"i think i'm starting to recognize you" matthew remembers him saying on a random monday. "i still don't know your name though, mind telling me?"

matthew felt his face go red at that very moment, he hated how those words were so casual yet affected him so much. "i— um.. uh, yeah! uh, matthew, my name's matthew".

his eyebrows raised. "are you a foreigner?" he inquired, tilting his head like he was trying to decipher matthew's name.

"i'm from canada" he said shyly, which is pretty abnormal for him. "but my parents are korean.."

"ah" the boy said, that pretty smile coming to his face. "that makes sense" he grabbed matthew's drink and handed it over to him.

"y/n".

"y/n" matthew repeated, he liked his name, it sounded right for some reason. "nice name" he said clearly, he didn't know how he said that clearly, he just did.

"come again soon".

when classes ended that day, matthew went to his room and screamed into his pillow for a whole fifteen minutes straight. he actually felt like he had a chance for once, but he also felt like the most delusional person to ever exist.

"hanbin! i'm literally dying! he kept smiling at me like— why is he so pretty!?"

matthew is not in his best element at the moment.

hanbin is clearly enjoying watching him suffer.

"are you finally gonna work up the courage to ask him out now?"

"wait— now? what do you mean now? i can't ask him out now! he'd think i'm weird, he'd think—"

"oh my god matthew!" hanbin yells over his friend. "come on! this is what you've been bothering me about for the past week! just do it!"

"i'm not as confident as you, hanbin!" matthew argues. "i just— i don't wanna have the wrong impression.." he mumbles, cuddling his pillow close to his chest.

hanbin stares at his best friend, sighing, patting his back. "ah, matthew, you and pretty boys".

it's obvious that matthew had absolutely no idea how to talk to boys he liked romantically, and y/n was one of those boys. he couldn't muster up any courage to ask him out, because he thought he'd embarrass himself by saying something wrong.

y/n though, didn't seem to mind his stuttering, because he found it cute.

one day, though, he just seemed to be having a particularly good day.

"you know, you make my day matthew" y/n says, leaning on his hand as he stares at him. matthew really can't tell if he's flirting or just being nice.

"i'm glad to hear that" matthew nods, feeling himself get nervous as he clears his throat. "um, uh.. y/n?"

"that is my name, yes" the barista replies, he gives that amazing smile he always looks at matthew with, and he feels as if he's about to melt.

"i— um, uh.."

matthew feels stupid, he can't get his words out because he keeps looking at y/n whose so focused on him and what he's saying that it makes it hard to speak straight.

y/n blinks, confused. "you okay?"

"will you go out with me!"

y/n stands there, frozen. he tilts his head for a moment, staring at the red faced, embarrassed matthew who was now covering his face with his hands, afraid of being rejected.

"agh, i'm so sorry, i'm awkward, and i get if you don't want to go out—"

"of course i will".

matthew squeaks, not believing the words that just came out of the barista's mouth. he can't bring himself to stare at y/n, thinking that he'd probably light on fire from making even the slightest eye contact with him.

"ahh, you need to stop this" matthew grumbles under his breath, finally removing his hands from his face and feeling his face go even more red when y/n laughed at his expression.

"stop what, matt?"

"your so pretty, your voice is so nice, and your effortlessly good at everything i hate it" he pouts, and y/n looks away to laugh once again, grabbing matthew's drink.

"do you plan on getting me boba for our first date?"

"i— uh, well.. haha!" matthew still wasn't doing the best. "your gonna have to wait! haha!"

"are you gonna take your drink or..?"

"yeah! right!"

matthew awkwardly giggles, taking his drink and giving a wide smile, nodding. "later! i'll see you later!"

y/n chuckles, waving at him. "i'll wait for you".

matthew giggles the whole way as he walks to his class, though he gets embarrassed by the way he talked.

at least he got a date! nothing else matters!

#seok matthew x reader #zerobaseone #zb1 #zb1 matthew #zb1 scenarios #zb1 imagines #seok matthew zb1 #seok matthew imagines #zb1 drabbles #𑁍 ࣪˖ 𓂃 isa's works!

[awlumii]

afraid to lose you.

can be seen as a pt. 2 to "it stings."

# — pairing: kazuha x gn!reader

# — characters: gender neutral reader, kazuha

# — warnings: lightly suggestive

# — tags: some angst, fluff, making out, jealous!kazuha, ofc there would be kissing, who do you think i am

# — notes: the word count on this is 5,738. this took... about five hours. i haven't done this kind of writing in months, and holy FUCK does it feel good. like always, reblogs and reactions are appreciated, and i hope you enjoy!

wanna join the tag list?

✧ — 🍁 — ✧

it may seem like you know kazuha inside and out, but there are times when he thinks otherwise.

don't misunderstand — kazuha doesn't hide anything from you. not intentionally, anyway. the only reason why he may refrain from telling you something is because the topic just hasn't come up yet. if someone were to ask you any question pertaining to kazuha's home life before he became a wanderer, you likely wouldn't have an answer. you've never asked, so he's never told you. and because of that, some gaps may exist in your understanding of kazuha.

then again, he's still transparent to you, whether he makes it that way or not. you're terrifyingly observant at times, able to read even the slightest of gestures and decipher how he's feeling before he himself realizes it. there are times when kazuha wonders if you know him better than he knows himself. that fact extends to just about everyone you know, actually — all the members of the crux fleet are aware of your vigilance.

but you aren't without fault; the reason why kazuha thinks you don't truly know him is because there are times when you're... a bit slow on the uptake.

like right now, for instance.

"you don't want to hold your weapon so close to the blade." your voice comes in clear on the breeze. kazuha watches as you step closer to a man wielding a polearm and take his weapon, brandishing it yourself. "see where my hands are? even if the tip is the only thing doing damage, you need to be able to control the entire thing. try again." you hand the polearm back to the man, who stiffly does as you say. you shake your head and step behind him to manually adjust his stance. when you're finished, you step back. "isn't that a little more comfortable?" you ask him.

you're standing behind him, so you can't see his face, but kazuha can. and for some reason, his expression is... irritating.

"y-yeah, a little." the man answers. he swings the polearm as you instructed. "so like this..?"

you sigh. you take the man's arms from behind again and slowly swing his arms for him. as you do, kazuha actually has to look away, lest he look at your student's face again.

you're giving a one-on-one lesson to one of the new sailors at his request. what was his name again? kenji? all kazuha remembers is that he was the only one out of the six new recruits to hail from inazuma. it's not like him to be so forgetful. he'd normally beat himself up for being so discourteous — especially to someone from his homeland — but he isn't quite sure he wants to extend such courtesy to kenji. (if that's even his name.)

because as of late, kenji's been... monopolizing you, so to speak. you were entrusted with the task of training the new recruits. it was a simple enough job at first; kazuha was content to watch as you flattened the three recruits who were the most mouthy. but of the six, there was a straggler in the group — someone who just couldn't keep up to save their life. kenji required extra care, so you took it upon yourself to bring him up to speed. unfortunately, kenji was slower than you anticipated.

kazuha spares kenji a glance. his brows twitch when he sees the pink that's dusted itself over his features. he looks away again.

how can you be so observant, yet so blind to this man's obvious crush on you?

"do that a few more times," kazuha hears you say, "and you'll have a better foundation for when we start sparring some more." you rest a hand on your hip as you watch kenji swing his polearm as you instructed. "good. keep it up if you want to; i'm going to sit down. we're done for the day."

kazuha perks up at that. are you finally done? can he finally take you away from—

"wait!" kenji stops you mid-stride. "um... can you... t-tell me how you got your vision?"

you're silent for a moment. you slowly turn back to face him and kazuha wishes he can see the look on your face. "are you really curious?" you ask.

kazuha grits his teeth. say no, say no—

"yes," kenji says despite kazuha's internal pleading. to make a bad situation worse, you oblige him and walk back over, starting the tale of how you received your vision.

kazuha groans silently and bumps the back of his head on the tree he's sitting against. it's taking everything in him to not get up and yank you away from your starry-eyed pupil in this moment. because archons, the lovesick puppy eyes kenji is giving you is making his stomach twist. how are you, of all people, so oblivious? can't you see that? it's so obvious–!

kazuha reels himself back in. this isn't like him. he needs to get himself in check before you come back.

he takes a steadying breath. maybe he's just on edge because he didn't get much sleep last night. kenji has been doing this for weeks — taking up your time, playing dumb, ogling you... it's safe to say that kazuha hasn't been resting well knowing that come morning, you'd be whisked away to kenji's side again.

you finish your story a bit quicker than kazuha anticipated. before he knows it, you're walking over to him, leaving a dejected looking kenji in your wake. thankfully, kazuha's finished his breathing routine. he gives you his most patient smile when you seat yourself beside him. "all done for the day?" he asks quietly.

you grumble something under your breath and lie down, resting your head in kazuha's lap. like a magnet, his hand finds its way to your hair, idly twisting your locks around his fingers. "i can't believe i still have to correct him on his form." you seethe quietly. "why did he pick up a spear if he wasn't gonna use it right?!"

kazuha tries to bite back his chuckle, but he fails. thank the stars you're at least a little frustrated by kenji's behavior. a little more of that, and you'll be on your way to ignoring him in no time. (hopefully.)

"perhaps he wants to be a vision holder like you." kazuha says. "ambition is one of the main traits of a vision holder..."

you look up at kazuha, your face clouded with thought. "that'd explain his reluctance to give up... hopefully he practices enough to put up an actual fight tomorrow."

tomorrow? "you're going to be training him again tomorrow?" kazuha can't stop himself from asking.

you nod and look out to kenji, who is eagerly practicing the moves you taught him earlier. kazuha doesn't dare look. "yeah. if you're right and his goal is actually to obtain a vision, then... i guess i should help him, shouldn't i?"

...you're so nice that it hurts. and damn if he doesn't love that about you.

kazuha looses a soft sigh and pushes your hair off of your forehead. he leans down and presses a kiss right between your brows, chuckling when you pull them together in confusion. "you're a marvelous teacher." he laughs when you begin to fluster under the praise.

he's not lying; no matter how frustrating this situation may be, he would be remiss if he didn't acknowledge just how effective your teachings are. you practice what you preach, giving kazuha a run for his money whenever he spars with you. if kenji wasn't... well, kenji, he would be the best of the new recruits by now.

you look away and kazuha presses the back of his hand on your cheek. as he guessed, it's warm. you push him away with a grumble, making him laugh again. "stop that."

"shall i praise you more?" he teases, brushing his fingers across your cheek once more.

"...no." you close your eyes at the touch.

after that, a pleasant silence descends upon the two of you. and for the first time in what feels like forever, kazuha has you all to himself. the intrusive thoughts hush, and it's just you, him, and the breeze.

(in the distance, kenji watches the tender moment with a deep frown.)

maybe it's a good thing that you can't sense how kazuha feels about all of this. he can't make much of it himself.

that's a lie. he can, he just doesn't want to admit it to himself. that feeling is beneath him. what a wretched feeling it is. he won't even think it. there's no way he'd be feeling like that over some new recruit. he forces it down — out-of-sight, out-of-mind-style.

but when kenji approaches you while you're sitting with kazuha aboard the alcor, he finds that that feeling is much more difficult to contain than he initially thought.

"would you mind if i joined you?" kenji asks, and immediately, kazuha sees a problem here. why was his question directed solely at you? is he invisible?

besides, you're not exactly the most approachable right now; kazuha is sitting on top of a barrel and you're standing between his legs with his arms wrapped around you. no one has come up to you two for longer than a moment. (probably because they know how to read the room, kazuha thinks.)

you hum in what kazuha can only assume is assent. kenji makes himself comfortable on a barrel across from kazuha, his eyes never leaving your frame. "what do you need?" you ask. your voice sounds distant. kazuha peeks to see you're still staring out at the sea.

kenji flinches. "oh, um... nothing, i just... ah..." he fumbles over his words. his eyes are darting between you and kazuha, his ears turning redder by the second. "i couldn't find anyone else to pass the time with, so..."

kazuha blinks twice in disbelief. as of right now, he can hear four people who are talking aimlessly as they laze about, two of which are the new recruits. which means kenji purposely came looking for you. but why wouldn't he just leave right away when he saw what you were doing? (or not doing, kazuha thinks.)

you take your eyes off of the sea and focus on kenji, who visibly jolts at having earned your attention. (or is kazuha just too observant?) "why don't you tell me about yourself then?" you prompt him. "i don't know much about you outside of training."

and just like that, another moment is stolen from him. kazuha sighs silently, resigned. neither you nor kenji notice as the latter eagerly starts to chat you up. you may be standing in his arms, but you feel miles away right now, your heart and mind elsewhere yet again.

kazuha isn't upset with you over this. he could never be. he knows that you have no ill intent towards neither him, nor kenji, but... selfishly, he wishes you would open your eyes, even if it's only by a little. kenji's infatuation with you is far from subtle; it shows in the way he smiles whenever you speak and gapes whenever you laugh. if he were to be honest, if kenji had done all of this from afar, kazuha would be less inclined to keep you away from him at all costs. kenji is too close for comfort, and it's grating on kazuha's every nerve.

fed up with the lack of privacy, kazuha attempts to remove you from the situation. he taps two fingers on your side three times — taptaptap — a code the two of you created for when you want to make a quick escape.

you don't respond. perhaps you didn't feel it? kazuha tries again, but this time, you tap your index and middle finger on him twice — the code for not right now.

that ugly feeling rears its head. kazuha crams it back in whatever hole it came from.

maybe he felt wrong. again, he taps you three times, and again, you tap him twice. you're serious.

kazuha can't contain that feeling fast enough. he rubs your arm gently and eases you out of the way for him to get off of the barrel. when you look at him, confused, he takes your hand and gives you his most disarming smile. "i won't be far," he says. "you know where to find me, right, dove?"

your worried frown is almost reassuring. does this mean you've picked up on his discomfort? will you end the conversation and come with him? the answer is no — you nod slowly instead. "i'll finish up here and come find you when i'm done, okay?" you rub a circle into the back of kazuha's hand.

not the answer he wanted, but he'll take what he can get. kazuha presses a kiss to your knuckles. "i'll be waiting for you." he murmurs into your skin. you watch the gesture closely, as if you're trying to get a read on how he's feeling. it's obvious that you can't, though. before kazuha walks off, he spares kenji a glance only to find the recruit already looking at him. now, either kazuha is losing his mind, or kenji is smirking at him. for his sanity, it's best that he assumes the former. kazuha takes his leave and heads to the crow's nest, where he awaits your arrival.

the afternoon comes and goes, and kazuha understands that you're not coming and that once again, he's lost you to kenji.

it's become much too difficult for kazuha to not feel that feeling, which is why he traps you in his arms the following morning.

he wakes before you today — typically, this would be considered a rare occurrence, but thanks to a certain someone, he's been rising before the sun. kazuha takes the time just before and during dawn to really admire you. perhaps he took your presence for granted; it wasn't until after you'd been swept away that he realized just how little he'd been appreciating you lately.

(of course you would beg to differ; kazuha spends so much time admiring you that you think your heart is going to fail by an early age. though he doesn't know that.)

this morning, kazuha has his arms wrapped around your middle and his face buried in your chest. he shimmies back so he can get a better look at you. in the dim light of the morning, with the moon saying its last goodbye until the evening, kazuha raises his bandaged hand and traces your features with a feather-light touch. he brushes his thumb over your brow bone and traces your cupid's bow. you look so at peace right now; kazuha silently wishes to see you smile.

he runs his finger across the slope of your nose and smoothes a finger across your eyelids. you scrunch your nose and raise a hand to push him away at that, and kazuha presses his lips together to stop a chuckle. he must be bothering you, no? feeling mischievous, he pinches your nose briefly and sure enough, you quickly swat him away with a sharp inhale.

"can't you wake me up like a normal person..?" you groan, dropping a hand over your face.

kazuha puffs a soft laugh. "did i wake you?" he asks cheekily.

you crack your eyes open to give him a heavily lidded glare. "no." you bite sarcastically. "i'm still asleep."

"then you're dreaming. you should wake up, my love."

you sigh and mush your hand on kazuha's face, ignoring his laughter. "i can't stand you." you mutter. you move your hand to look him in the eyes properly. "good morning, kazuha. you ass."

kazuha takes your hand and brings it to his lips, kissing each one of your fingertips. he revels in the way you sigh, tired yet smitten. the beginnings of a smile curl your lips, and kazuha thinks that this is what love feels like. "good morning, dove." he murmurs. "it's a new day. may the sun shine warmly upon you today."

you look as though you're blushing, though kazuha isn't sure. like always, he rests a hand on your face to feel the growing warmth. you don't push him away; instead, you close your eyes again with a sleepy hum. "the sun's not up yet," you mutter, "but good morning to you too, 'zuha."

kazuha inhales sharply at the usage of the nickname. he leans in close, and you half open your eyes. "dove," he breathes, hoping you understand. you do, and you meet him halfway. he kisses you for the first time in what feels like forever, tender and warm. it's so easy for him to unwind in your presence, when you touch him like this. he sighs into the kiss but you pull away, much to his disappointment.

"why are you awake so early this morning?" you ask. you comb your fingers through kazuha's hair and it's his turn to close his eyes, a shiver running through him. "did you have a bad dream?"

honestly, a bad dream would be far better than reality. for some reason, your words make him realize once again that you're going to be taken from him soon now that the sun is nearly up. bad dreams are temporary — impermanent visions of one's greatest fears. his greatest fear is losing you. and slowly, thanks to kenji, that very fear is being realized. he wishes the past few weeks were just a bad dream.

with you here, in his arms like this, it feels like that's all it was. kazuha sighs softly. "something like that," he mumbles.

you coo something incomprehensible and pull kazuha in properly, leaving no space between the two of you. you feel like home; his body melts into yours like he belongs there. "i missed you," he dares to whisper into your skin.

"i'm right here, kazuha," you say. "i always will be."

kazuha knows he should believe you, but you could be gone at any moment now. he pulls back to leave a gentle kiss on your lips again. you smile this time, still sleepy, but just as bright as the morning sun. "good morning again, 'zuha." you kiss him one more time for good measure. he doesn't let you get very far, capturing your lips once more.

hours pass by and you're still here. neither of you have made a move to get up despite the sounds of other sailors starting to move about the ship. kazuha lies wrapped in your embrace, his heart fluttering every time you press a fleeting kiss to his skin.

but all good things must come to an end. there's a knock on the door to your cabin, effectively waking the two of you up. you'd been starting to doze back off together before this. kazuha doesn't say a word and neither do you, hoping to get the person to leave, but after a drawn out silence, they knock again. and again. and again. clearly, this person won't give up. you cave in and groan. "who is it?" you call out.

the voice that comes from the other side makes kazuha freeze. "it's kenji! you said we would train together today, remember?"

kazuha looks at you. he can only hope he doesn't look as desperate as he feels. he silently begs you to remain silent or to turn him away, to just stay by his side for today. but you sit up quickly — too quickly. "shit, i did," you swear to yourself. you peel yourself out of kazuha's embrace and quickly start to get ready, leaving kazuha cold. "gimme a minute, i'll be out soon!" you call out again.

kazuha sits up slowly, his eyes downcast. "are you... going to train him again?" the question is out before he can stop himself. he's barely got that feeling in check, his control hanging on by a thread. the first tender moment you've shared in weeks — ruined. he can't take this anymore.

you look over at him, but you don't stop getting ready. kazuha's stomach twists. "yeah," you say as you pull your shirt on. "why?"

"this may be presumptuous of me, but could you... stay in just for today, dove?" archons, he must look so pathetic right now.

"i really want to, but i already stayed in longer than i should have." you fix your clothing in the mirror nearby.

kazuha winces, but you miss it. you're right. he may feel a certain way about the person you're around, but at the end of the day, you have a duty to fulfill, and he shouldn't keep you from that. he feels like a liability to you.

you finish getting ready and sit on the edge of the bed. you cup his cheek and make him face you. there's concern and apology written all over your face. "i'll make it up to you soon, okay?" you promise. it's not an empty promise — it's the first time you're saying this to him. perhaps he should believe you. you've never given him reason to doubt you before.

kazuha nods. "i'll hold you to that, songbird." he won't. "go on; i'm sure he's waiting for you."

you surprise him by kissing him quick and rushing a goodbye. in the blink of an eye, you're gone, leaving him by his lonesome.

it's not until you're gone that kazuha realizes that he doesn't know when 'soon' will be.

it was only a matter of time before kazuha lost control of that feeling.

soon never came. for the rest of that day, you were by kenji's side. you returned to the ship sporting a few cuts and bruises, courtesy of your student. he was much more injured than you were, but he was all smiles — you both were. some real bonding must have occurred while you two were at each other's throats because you were inseparable from that point forward. before kazuha went to bed that night, he noticed kenji looking at you with so much fondness that it made him want to bury his head in the sand. that was the last straw; seeing an outsider look at you the same way a lover would — the way kazuha does.

a few days go by before kazuha reaches his breaking point.

he's alone this afternoon. he decided to take to the streets of liyue harbor hoping the hustle and bustle would jumble his thoughts enough so that he could stop thinking. if you were here, you would steer him away from so much activity since you know how much he detests high-energy environments. instead, you're... elsewhere. he actually has no idea where you are. he pretends that that doesn't bother him. he pushes it away; out of sight, out of mind, right..?

he eventually comes to a stop at the docks and takes a seat. it turns out that he couldn't handle all of the excitement. it's quieter here. it allows him to make sense of his thoughts.

as he looks out at the water, he figures that perhaps it's time for him to face the truth.

he's... jealous.

kazuha cringes inwardly. to give that feeling a name feels... disgusting. he feels foolish. how idiotic of him to feel jealous of someone like kenji, of all people. kazuha has known you for so long, and has been by your side for longer. you would actually probably laugh at him if you knew he felt this way — it seems impossible for someone like kazuha to feel like this.

but at this point, who could blame him? how else is he supposed to feel when his heart is being kept away from him? when it feels like his heart doesn't want to return to him? what about kenji has you running back to him all the time? kazuha refuses to question his worth to you — you wouldn't return to your cabin every night if he meant nothing to you — but the fact that you're gone before he wakes makes him wonder if he's at fault. was he boring you? was he too clingy? what did he do?

as he's mulling over ways to try and confront you on the whole ordeal, he hears footsteps approaching. he doesn't dare turn around. he knows exactly who's coming.

"kenji," he greets the newcomer without looking up. "how nice of you to join me. to whom do i owe this pleasure?"

"oh, no one! i just thought you seemed kinda bummed out, so i thought i'd come by." kenji sounds upbeat and, if kazuha strains his ears, seems to be using a dialect used by inazumans in the countryside. is he trying to make kazuha feel comfortable?

"do i, now?" kazuha works his jaw a few times in an attempt to reel back the attitude. he can't go around giving people the wrong impression of him, can he? (even if that person is kenji.) "i appreciate the gesture. but i'm afraid it's unnecessary."

kenji makes a noise of confusion. kazuha still refuses to look at him. "why so? i could've sworn you were upset. you look down whenever your friend isn't around."

his... what? "pardon?"

kenji says your name. "usually you're around them, but lately you guys haven't been together, and i thought you looked pretty down about it. was i wrong?"

kazuha's not sure if he should laugh. surely kenji doesn't think you two were just friends. that can't be right, can it? he decides to drag this out. "not completely," he half-laughs. "there's more to it than that."

"oh, so you like them too?" kenji's quick to sit by kazuha's side, a strange excitement lacing his tone.

too?

"they're amazing, aren't they?" kenji continues. he launches into some kind of infatuated rant about you and your skills, your sense of humor, and things of the like. and the longer it goes on, the more incredulous kazuha's stare grows. who exactly did kenji think he was talking to right now? did he honestly think that you two were just friends and nothing more?

kenji's next words are the nail in the coffin. "if i'm being honest, i'm thinking of making a move..."

kazuha puts a hand up, cutting kenji off. he can't fucking believe this. he needs to see you. now. "as flattered as i am that you thought to cheer me up, i believe i should take my leave now." he says, fighting the urge to clench his teeth.

"oh! so, you're not upset?"

"it's hard to say." kazuha stands and wishes kenji well before allow his feet to carry him to the ship. he lets the wind tell him of your whereabouts — it feels nice to do that after so long.

luckily for him, you're in your shared cabin. you're sitting on the bed, reading something. you jump at kazuha's sudden entrance, but smile when you see him. "hey, welcome back!" you scoot to the side, making room for him on the bed. kazuha takes his spot beside you. "what's going on?"

kazuha has no idea what to think anymore. this whole time, he was jealous of a man who couldn't tell when two people were in a relationship. he spent weeks questioning his worth and putting himself down for this? this... this was a waste of his time! he's been surrounded by two people who just couldn't read a situation this entire time; you, who couldn't tell just how much kazuha was agonizing over this, and kenji, who needed a total reality check.

you pull him out of his thoughts with a light touch to his hand. "kazuha? is everything okay?"

"were you aware of kenji's feelings for you?" he asks. straight to the point. no cutting corners.

you blink. so no then. "his what?"

"it's been painfully evident for weeks that your student has been harboring strong one-sided feelings for you, dove." kazuha's patience is wearing thin.

"i've been knocking him around for weeks, why the hell would he like me?" you shudder, seemingly uncomfortable with the thought. that's reassuring, at least. "plus, couldn't he tell that i'm not available?"

"i can answer that for you." kazuha shakes his head. "he had no idea. he approached me and informed me that he thought of, and i quote, 'making a move'." he chuckles when you reel back in shock.

"i should probably let him know—" you start to get up, presumably to find kenji and inform him of the truth, but kazuha grabs your wrist, stopping you. "hm?"

"may i suggest something else?" he asks. when you nod, he cups your face in one hand and leans in to press a short kiss to your lips. kazuha kisses you again, even slower this time.

when you part, you whisper, "i don't see how this is gonna fix anything."

kazuha grins almost wolfishly. "do you trust me, dove?"

you nod.

"then follow my lead." kazuha captures your lips sweetly, savoring every second it drags on.

it's been quite some time since he's kissed you like this — slowly and without haste. he uses this as a chance to make up for the time you've lost thanks to this whole ordeal. he licks at the seam of your lips and you let him in, tilting your head to deepen the kiss some more.

kazuha's head starts to spin. he's intoxicated by you already — usually, he's able to contain himself for longer. drunk on the taste of you, kazuha inches forward and you lean back, taking the hint and breaking the kiss to lie down. he hovers over you and snakes his hand up your arm, taking your wrist in his bandaged fingers. the two of you stare at each other, exchanging silent words of adoration before your lips meet again, a bit more feverish this time.

there's untapped passion pouring out of kazuha as he licks into your mouth. he drinks in every sigh, swallows every content noise you make and thrives off of them, using your pleasure as fuel. this is what he wanted — what he needed — and it seems like you agree. he breaks away from your lips and trails heated kisses down to your neck, where he lets the frustration of the past few weeks go.

mark after mark appears on your neck, a palette of purples and reds decorating your skin. they bloom under kazuha's lips like flowers of desire, and he feels dizzy. it doesn't help that you're whining whenever he nips at your skin, nor does it help that you have your fingers tangled in his hair.

"kazuha, this is—" your breath hitches. "you're biting kinda hard..."

oops.

that's all kazuha needs to push off of you, but not before leaving a mark just underneath your jaw, dark and obvious, where it'd be impossible to hide. he gazes down at you in all your flushed glory. you're breathing a little heavy, as is he, and your eyes are hooded. you're a mess beneath him. you're stunning.

unfortunately, he knows he should stop. kazuha leans down and kisses you as an apology. "forgive me, songbird," he murmurs against your lips. "you sounded so pretty for me."

you slap at his shoulder, making him chuckle. he sits up and after a couple seconds, so do you. you run your fingers gingerly over the marks kazuha left on you. "so is this how you're letting kenji know what's going on?" you ask, your voice breathy.

kazuha's brows twitch at the name. he almost forgot why he was doing this. "yes." he watches as you walk over to the mirror to inspect them. "i take it you like what you see?"

you glare at him through the mirror. "he's not the only one who's gonna get the message," you grumble. "you left them in the most obvious places!"

"and yet you can't stop touching them. you like them, don't you?"

you throw a brush at him, which he easily catches. "i can't stand you. why don't you admit that you were jealous, then?"

that word. that feeling that he so desperately tried to avoid naming. there's no use hiding from it anymore, is there? kazuha nods. "i was, actually. he took up so much of your time, i..." he feels a sudden tug of guilt again. "i've battled with myself for weeks over it."

you return to your spot beside him. "weeks..? kazuha, i—"

"i thought that i'd done something to repel you." he confesses. "and i didn't want to keep you stuck by my side when you didn't want to be. but truthfully, i... i missed you, petal. very much." he raises a hand to brush over the fresh marks. you shiver in the wake of his touch. "which is why i got so carried away."

to his surprise, you throw your arms around him and bury your face in his shoulder. he wraps his arms around you in kind, holding you as close as he can. "i'm sorry." your words are muffled by his clothes. "i should've managed my time better. and i should've noticed his behavior a lot sooner."

kazuha sighs and melts into your arms just a little more. "that matters not anymore." he mumbles. "what matters now is that you're here, and you're aware. and," he pulls back to look at you again, "when he sees you again, he knows about us."

"you want him to know i'm yours, don't you?" you ask. you sound sassy, but your expression tells a different story. you look sheepish, if anything.

for some reason, your words make kazuha feel the same way. that's the heart of the issue, isn't it? he wants not just kenji, but everyone else who may see you to know that you're completely off-limits. not even he knew he was capable of feeling so possessive.

you don't seem bothered by it, however. you seem... satisfied. you smile. "i'm yours, kazuha," you affirm. "from now until forever."

he leans in and presses a kiss to your forehead. forever may sound like a long time, but it's enough to send his heart aflutter. he's never going to lose you to anyone else.

(when the two of you leave your cabin, you run into kenji. kazuha takes great pride in watching the recruit's eyes blow wide when he catches sight of the marks on your skin. and to the surprise of no one, he suddenly improves in his combat skills. so much so, in fact, that he doesn't need any more one-on-one training.)

✦ i am so SO sorry for all this. the ending is messy, i know.. kinda outta order, but hey, it's done! i'm proud of the rest of it, okay?

#[ ✍️🏽 — scribbles! ] #genshin impact x reader #genshin x reader #kaedehara kazuha #kaedehara kazuha x reader #kazuha x reader #WHAT A MONSTER!!

[driftershunt]

15 questions, 15 mutuals

Tagged by @inflarescent !! thank you flare <3 1. Are you named after anyone?

Nope! The name stuck out to me when I was playing a game and I decided it'd be a cool name for me

2. When was the last time you cried?

UHHHH I can't remember honestly, last time I Almost cried was last month though

3. Do you have kids?

does my cat count !

4. What sports do you play/have played?

I've never played a sport consistently but some I've done before are football/soccer, cricket, croquet and swimming

5. Do you use sarcasm?

Only in Pretty obvious ways, you almost Can't miss it, and I'm horrible at deciphering when other people are being sarcastic LOL

6. What's the first thing you notice about people?

Their face or their clothes!

7. What’s your eye color?

Dark brown!

8. Scary movies or happy endings?

HAPPY ENDINGS MY BELOVED!! I remember hearing that this one director believes audiences will go through Anything as long as there's a happy ending and goddamn if that isn't true for me

9. Any talents?

I've always been told I'm talented at drawing and I like to think I'm alright at it!

10. Where were you born?

in? a hospital?

11. What are your hobbies?

drawing, writing, reading, watching movies/tv shows, exercising from time to time! tom cruise is also my hobby actually . just tom cruise

12. Do you have any pets?

YES!! I have a cat, he's a 2 year-old rescue and his name is Enzo <3

13. How tall are you?

5'3 last I checked!

14. Favorite subject in school?

English, art and sports, mostly bc I found them easy

15. Dream job?

I don't really have one! I'd like to do some work in films or do anything art-related someday, but mostly I just want any job I'd enjoy doing

tagging @safehousebooze @agentfaust @k9effect @lycaeons @twelverriver @jenconnellysshybellybutton @andrewknightley @tvheit @lilworker @birdclowns @avianii @heldenherzchen @radical-sky @woodsywingman @forumsdackel !! no pressure <3

#tag games