#don’t talk to me about the third rail

[caelesjjk]

entangled - jjk&kth - part two

⟶title: entangled ⟶pairing: spidey!jungkook x fem reader, venom!taehyung x fem reader ⟶au: marvel au ⟶ rating: 18+ ⟶ genre: romance, smut, love triangle ⟶ wc: 9k ⟶ warnings: mentions of blood and injuries, more infidelity type things, reader is confused af, two smut scenes because we take what they wanna give us: unprotected sex (don’t do this tho), dirty talk, kissing, fingering, couple position switches, it’s all pretty lovey dovey ⟶ summary: Kim Taehyung is Venom. A huge, terrifying symbiote monster that’s bonded with him and made a deal for a common goal. You don’t know what you’re doing. Your feelings are mixed and frazzled and confused. But you may not have the time to sort them out just yet if you can’t keep the two people you care about most from killing each other first. ⟶ authors note: hello darklings. You’ve all waited way too long for me to get this second part together and for that I apologize. I hope this makes up for the wait. The third and final part that follows this will be a bit of a wait too while I work on another fic, but I promise it will come. Big endless shoutout to @sailoryooons for listening to me whine about this for months and for beta reading the mess that it became. Also shouts to @tea4sykes for reading before it was even done to reassure me it was flowing okay. I love you guys.

Part One (if you missed it)

playlist if you want it: https://open.spotify.com/playlist/5cg79N5KQBmZ9fOCtyD3A7?si=cQlAtRT7Roat33E60rzKtQ&pi=u-lMIH9SpZSD6X

You needed to run.

Everything was happening too quickly, your head couldn’t catch up with your feet that were scrambling across the floor in every direction trying to escape the monster Taehyung had just turned into. He had you completely trapped with nowhere to go.

Not to mention you were mostly naked with only a thin sheet barely clinging around you.

“Stop! Leave me alone! Please!” You beg and scream as it cuts you off again when you make a dash for the stairs.

“No. Leaving.” Venom roars and tries to make a move towards you, but stops when you accidentally back into the record player Taehyung has sitting on his side table.

The record scratches and squeaks at a high pitch and Venom groans in pain at the sound, his clawed hands grabbing at his head as he stumbles backwards. His black, crawling skin pulls away until you catch glimpses of Taehyung beneath the monster. 

“Run. Please…run,” he begs before Venom consumes him again. But before he can get too far, you push over the record player so that it makes a constant high pitched noise and Venom screams until he falls back against the railing and goes over the edge.

You don’t wait to see anything else. 

Grabbing the ends of the sheet you dash towards the bathroom and shove the door closed behind you, looking around frantically for a way to escape. Immediately your eyes see the fire escape outside the window. 

You see some discarded clothes on the floor and immediately throw on the T-shirt and basketball shorts before using all your strength to shove open the old window that has obviously not been used in years. The old white paint cracks and splinters to the floor as you climb up onto the sill.

A loud bang suddenly sounds from outside the bathroom door. Venom must’ve stopped the record player. 

“Where are you, girl?” You hear his menacing voice travel through the door. 

Your pulse picks up again as you shove yourself the rest of the way out the window and into the pouring rain. The metal of the fire escape creaks and brings an instant chill to your already shaking body. 

Looking back, you see the bathroom door shatter with the force the monster uses to break it open. You can barely hear yourself scream as you throw your weight onto the top of the window and close it behind you. You don’t look back again as you sprint down the stairs of the fire escape, but the sound of Venom crashing through the glass makes you move faster. 

Bricks from the warehouse crunch beneath his claws and feet, causing pieces to crumble and rain down over your head. As soon as your bare feet hit the pavement, you make a mad dash past the docks and towards the main road.

The rain pelts against your face as the clouds continue to block the sun that should be starting to come up now. There is barely any light for you to see where you are going while the world is still wrapped in a navy blue hue.

You can see headlights up ahead. Cars. People. A way out.

“Not so fast.” Venom suddenly drops in front of you, making you stumble and fall to your back against the cobblestones. Your elbows scrape across the ground as you try to move away but he’s too big and too fast.

“Please…just let me go. I won’t tell anyone about you. I swear.” You press flat to the ground as Venom looms over you, his face slowly maneuvering downwards until your nose almost touches him.

“We…want to keep you. Protect you.” 

“You’re scaring me, Taehyung. How can you say you want to protect me?” The crawling, black skin of Venom’s face peels away to reveal Taehyung once more.

“You’re in the middle of something that you shouldn’t be,” Taehyung says desperately. 

“What does that even mean?” 

“_____, please stay away from Jungkook. He-” Taehyung is cut off when Venom closes the skin back over his face. “He’s here,” he growls, moving to stand over top of you.

Before you can question him again, the bright light of a laser blast shoots past you, barely skimming Venom’s shoulder and blowing chunks of the ground all over you.

When you look back up, the red and gold suit of Ironman comes flying into your view. He tries to fly between you and Venom, but the monster is too fast, back handing Ironman and sending him flying into the side of one of the buildings.

“No!” You yell, trying to get to your feet but you can’t get your footing with all the rubble surrounding you.

“Stay. Back,” Venom whips around to tell you. That distraction is enough for Ironman to come flying back, hitting Venom in the stomach with his shoulder and throwing the two of them about ten feet away.

You don’t want Jin to hurt Taehyung. Venom is the monster. Taehyung is good. He’s gentle and kind. 

Your head hurts so badly and there’s blood dripping down your newly busted lip. You don’t know what you can do but you have to do something. 

Getting to your feet as the rain continues to pour from the thundering clouds overhead, you clamber through the rubble trying to get closer to where Jin has Venom pinned against the side of a dumpster. Just as you approach, Venom hits Jin’s hand away causing the laser blast to go off and almost hit you. You felt the heat of it skim past your face.

“Get out of here, _____! Now!” Jin yells, losing his balance when Venom pushes him off into the side of another building. You fall back on your ass, hitting the wet street once again.

Venom crawls over to you slowly. The sight of it freezing you in place as the slithering skin of his face once again pulls back to reveal Taehyung.

“I don’t want to hurt you.” He says, bending to get closer to you. You can see Jin getting back up out of the corner of your eye.

“Run, Tae. Please just run away and hide. And don’t ever come looking for me again. They’ll kill you.” You touch his cheek and his eyes close. “Please go.”

Just as you take your hand away you hear someone from above you yell your name, your head whipping up at the familiar sound.

Venom’s face consumes Taehyung again as he steps in front of you defensively. Jungkook comes into view, swinging down from a web attached to the nearest warehouse. 

Jungkook moves so quickly you can barely register what’s happening before he’s kicking Venom hard enough to make him roar and fly across the other side of the road.

“Get her out of here, Jungkook!” Jin yells as he comes back into the fight.

“We have him where we want him! I’m not leaving!” Jungkook yells back, shooting a web at one of the big pieces of rubble and flinging it towards Venom.

It shouldn’t hurt to hear him say that.

It shouldn’t sting like a slap across the face when he doesn’t choose you again. But god, does it fucking ever.

“Now!” Jin screams the word at Jungkook, barely holding off Venom, who is scraping and clawing with all his might to get back to you.

Such an anomaly this turned out to be.

Jungkook shoots off a few more webs, catching them on one of Venom’s wrists and sticking to the ground so it’s harder for him to move. And then Jungkook is whirling around and scooping you into his arms.

You wrap your arms around his neck instinctively, looking over his shoulder to watch the fight between Jin and Venom for as long as you can before they’re just dots in the distance as Jungkook swings you back into the city.

You almost start to doze off from exhaustion when you feel the world stop moving and Jungkook standing you on your feet. You almost lose your balance at the loss of him so suddenly.

“What the fuck were you doing out there, ____?” Jungkook asks, his voice loud and full of an anger you’d never heard from him before.

“I…I was just going for a walk…” the lie falls from your mouth before you even have a chance to think about it. “I got lost…”

“How do you always do this? How are you always in the middle of some terrible shit?” Jungkook rips his mask off and throws it across your bedroom against the opposite wall before he starts to pace.

“I’m sorry…” you feel so small as you watch the anger radiate off of him.

“Sorry? You’re sorry? Do you have any idea what you’ve likely cost us tonight?” He comes into your space, backing you into your kitchen counter.

“Jungkook…” 

“Just…stay out of my way, Data.” His shoulders slump when he steps back from you and grabs his mask from the floor. Your body shakes and gives into your exhaustion, your knees hitting the floor as Jungkook bounds off your balcony.

The only light in your apartment is from the barely there sun, casting shadows of your furniture and the plants on the windowsill across the hardwood floor. It’s quiet, too quiet when there’s a busy city 10 floors down.

How could one person make you feel so loved and so alone at the same time? Were you the bad guy? You slept with Taehyung out of spite…didn’t you? That’s how it started at least…now you’re not sure how you feel.

You don’t understand Taehyung, and part of you wants to know more. Why is he allowing Venom to control him and use him? What does he get out of it? All questions you would love to ask him if he wasn’t an absolutely terrifying monster.

A monster that Jungkook could possibly be killing right now. That thought makes you nauseous immediately.

You crawl across the floor until you can press your back against the wall, pulling your knees to your chest and putting your head between them. You needed to block it all out for a moment…or several.

You don’t know how long you have been sitting there or when you fall asleep but eventually you lift your head and squint at the sun trickling in through your windows and balcony doors. A perfectly cool breeze moves your green curtains and gives you goosebumps.

When your back starts to hurt from sitting on the wood floor, you convince yourself to get up to close the door. You know you desperately need a shower as well.

As you reach the balcony door, you see Jungkook sitting on your stone railing, his head in his hands. You want to rush towards him and make sure he’s okay, but you stay put.

“How long have you been out here?” You ask quietly, hand gripping the door handle too tightly.

“A while.” Jungkook mutters, his hands coming up to his hair and pulling at the roots.

“You…you should go home, Jungkook.” You hate the sound of your own voice right now. Weak and scratchy.

“I shouldn’t have said those things to you earlier, Data.” He moves slowly, head coming up as he slides off the railing to stand.

“But you did. And I have a feeling you meant them.”

“No…I just don’t understand why we can’t catch this monster. And when I saw you there, I lost it.” He runs his hand through his mess of black waves.

“Did…did you catch him now?” You swallow thickly, not sure what answer you want to hear.

“No. Jin couldn’t hold him. He’s looking into asking Dr. Kim for help in building a trap.” He looks defeated and the guilt starts to crawl up your throat.

Dr. Kim Namjoon is a scientist that most people would know as the Hulk. He’s a brilliant mind and someone you very much look up to as far as the career path you hope to take one day. It scares you that he might get involved in capturing…or killing Taehyung.

“I’m sorry,” is all you can manage to whisper.

“Data…” He steps closer to you and you flinch a little. “Fuck…fuck I’m so sorry. You were scared and you’re…you’re fucking hurt and all I did was yell at you.” Jungkook stays where he is, but reaches out his hand towards you.

“I don’t…I can’t,” you whimper.

“It’s okay. Let me take care of you, baby. Please.” His hand stays out stretched and you know if you take it that the guilt will continue to eat away at you. That you can never tell him what you know. Because you care about Jungkook…but you care about Taehyung too, and you just hope he runs and doesn’t come back.

You take Jungkook’s hand and he gently steps towards you again until he’s close enough to cup your face in his hands, angling it in different ways to mentally take note of your injuries. He runs his thumb over the bump on your forehead and the cut on your lip that has you wincing. His lips press to your forehead when your arms finally wrap around his middle and fingers grip at his back.

“I’m just making trouble for you, JK.” Your lip trembles when you look up into his eyes, his brows scrunching in confusion.

“We knew when we started that this wasn’t going to be easy. But I…I have a responsibility, Data. And I’m doing my best to do that and keep you safe.” He swipes at your tears and lifts you onto the counter so he can stand between your thighs. “I’ll always keep you safe.”

You believe him. But at what cost? What will happen to him if he continues to worry about you instead of the danger he is so heroically protecting the city…maybe even the world from. He is your best friend and something so much more. 

Your hands slide into his hair, the damp strands sliding through your fingers in the most familiar way. Jungkook's hands stay on your cheeks as he pulls your mouth to his, swallowing the little whimpers that try to escape you.

His lips taste like his favorite minty chapstick and the cinnamon gum he had probably chewed on his way back to your apartment. He always chews it when he needs to think more clearly.

“You have every right to be angry with me,” you whisper between sweet pecks to your lips.

“Angry…maybe. But cruel? No. You mean more to me than that.” His mouth finds your jaw while his hands gently hold your shoulders. “How about a bath?”

Could you really be deserving of these moments with Jungkook when you were enjoying being face down on Taehyung’s bed just a day ago?

Fuck. You were so fucking selfish.

You nod your head ‘yes’, not trusting your voice when guilt is rising up your throat.

Jungkook picks you up from the counter, your arms around his neck and legs around his hips as he carries you towards your tiny apartment bathroom. Stopping once or twice to press your back against the wall and slip his tongue into your mouth. A tongue that you gladly suck between your teeth until he moans your name.

“Get these off.” Jungkook shoves into your bathroom, the space almost too small for you and his broad body. He makes quick but gentle work of your dirt and blood stained clothes, kicking them into the corner of the bathroom.

You help him slide the sleeves of his blue and red suit down his arms, slowly revealing all the beautiful ink tattooed into the skin of his right arm. Your hands follow the dips of muscle of his torso as more skin is revealed from beneath his suit.

After he’s naked and you’ve thoroughly touched as much of his bare body as you can, you slide your ass up onto your tiny marble vanity and open your legs for him to stand between. Jungkook stands back a moment, his eyes roaming and settling between your legs.

“Are you sure you’re okay with this? You went through a lot tonight…” You don’t let him finish his sentence, wrapping your fingers around his semi-hard cock so you can stroke him.

“Let’s talk later. Right now I just need to feel you inside me. Remind me why I’m yours…please.” You could feel traitorous tears try to well in your eyes and Jungkook furrows his brows in confusion for a moment.

“Data…” He puts his hand over yours to stop your strokes.

“No. Please…I need you.” You meet his eyes and it only takes him a moment to tighten his hand on yours and help you move your fist up and down his cock again.

Jungkooks head rolls forward, a deep grumble in his chest sending shivers up your spine. He steps closer so his hips can widen your thighs and you can guide his cock to your entrance. You’re so wet that he easily pushes into you, your back arching off the vanity mirror at the stretch.

“You’ve always been my girl, Data.” His tattooed hand grips your hip and steadies you when he begins to shallow thrust, crude wet noises already coming from where your bodies meet. “Your pussy always remembers me so well.”

“Do the other Avengers know how filthy your mouth is?” You whisper, leaning forward to kiss him.

“My filthy mouth is only for you.” Jungkook kisses you back, sheathing himself completely inside you and holding himself there. He moves his swollen lips down your jaw and over your chest until he reaches your nipples, sucking and pulling until you’re a moaning mess.

“Please move, Jungkook.” You inch your ass forward until it’s perched right on the edge of the vanity. Jungkook groans against your breast, lifting his head to look where your bodies meet.

He holds both your hips in his hands as he begins a quick pace. But no matter how fast he pumps his hips against you, he never misses that spot inside you that makes stars dance across your eyelids.

“You feel so good. I don’t think I’m gonna last…” His distressed face meets yours and you reach up to touch his face and pull him closer.

“I’m so close, JK…please make me come.” He kisses you, hard and unyielding while his cock drills you against the mirror. You’re almost afraid it’ll break when he forgets how strong he is. But you don’t care, you want him to break you. You don’t deserve soft and sweet right now.

Jungkook lifts you off the vanity and faster than humanly possible has you on the floor of your hallway right outside your tiny bathroom. He throws your legs over his shoulders and hits a spot inside you that almost immediately has you crying out his name and coming all over his cock. Your pussy clenches around him so hard it makes him whimper above you, bringing him to his own orgasm. He fills you up as warmth spreads all over your body.

“Did I hurt you? I was too rough…” His hands are immediately on your face angling you to look at him.

“No, I’m okay. I promise.” You smile at him, hoping that it feels real. You’re too riddled with guilt.

“Let’s get in the bath.” He pulls out of you slowly, sitting up on his knees while he presses soft kisses to your fingers and palm.

The tub is far too small for the both of you, but it doesn’t matter. Water sloshes out onto the floor each time you move, but that doesn’t matter either. It feels good to have his warmth behind you when you lean back against his chest. 

“Do you want to talk about what happened?” Jungkook asks after a while, his hands rubbing your arms while his lips kiss the top of your head.

You freeze, knowing that you should tell him the truth. That you know who the monster is that he’s searching for. But you can’t bring yourself to put Taehyung in danger. So you lie. Again.

“I went for drinks with friends last night…I got lost walking home. I don’t know how I ended up at the docks. It was so stupid of me…” You hate how easily the lie spilled out.

“You aren’t stupid, Data. You just seem to have a magnet for danger.” He laughs quietly, kissing your shoulder. “I shouldn’t have made you feel like it was your fault.”

“It was my fault. I messed things up for you and Jin,” you sigh, slumping against his wet chest.

“Don’t worry about that. It won’t be much longer before we have the monster.” 

“Have him?” You ask, goosebumps prickling your skin.

“Mr. Kim thinks the monster is a human. An experiment gone wrong. He wants to help him…or study him. As long as it isn’t running free in the city anymore.” Jungkook explains, his hands gathering some soap bubbles from the water and washing your arms and chest with gentle fingers.

“How would he help him?” If Jin can help Taehyung…then maybe he can get rid of Venom.

“I’m not sure. I think we would be better off getting rid of it altogether. It’s a menace.” You feel Jungkook’s muscles tense as he talks and you know you still can't tell him the truth about Venom.

You don’t say anything else, afraid that your voice will shake and give you away. He knows you too well. 

Jungkook makes sure you’re cleaned up and comfortable in bed before he leaves you again. In most cases you would feel hurt that he’s left, but you need time to think without your feelings being clouded by his presence.

What the fuck are you going to do?

Going about your normal day to day life felt wrong. You go to school. You study with your friends. You see Jungkook on occasion, and every time you do, the guilt burrows a little deeper inside you, whittling away at your ability to keep up the facade. 

What makes it worse was that Taehyung hasn’t been at school for two weeks. It makes you absolutely terrified that something has happened to him. That undeniable connection you felt with him makes it difficult not to worry.

Sleep almost completely evades you the last two weeks.

“You look terrible,” Hoseok pokes, sitting a fresh coffee down in front of you on the library study table.

“Charming,” you grumble, snatching the coffee and inhaling its heavenly caffeine-illed scent.

“It’s not even finals season, why aren’t you sleeping? Trouble with the boyfriend perhaps?” Hobi sits his backpack down and plops into the chair next to you.

“He isn’t my boyfriend.” You press your forehead to the table and gently hit it against the top a few times. “And I just…my upstairs neighbor has been noisy.” The lies start to come out easier and easier the more you make up.

“I told you to move in with me months ago. Way closer to campus.” He pops some cheese cracker snacks into his mouth.

You know it would be nice to live with Hoseok. Easy. But you can’t. Not with Spider-Man coming and going and a giant monster possibly looking for you now. You could never forgive yourself if something happened to your friend.

“I appreciate that offer, you know I do. I just…like my space.” You sigh, lifting your head to meet his eyes. He probably knows you’re lying, but if he does, he doesn’t let on.

“Offer continues to stand if you change your mind, ___.” The look on his face is serious for a moment before he points the bag of snacks towards you. “Crackers?”

You smile and take a handful, popping them into your mouth as you sit back in your chair and listen to Hoseok talk more about nothing and everything for as long as you can.

After Hobi leaves, you continue to study until you notice the daylight is starting to disappear outside the library windows. You stretch your arms over your head, groaning when your stiff muscles protest before packing up your things to finally head home for the night.

Pulling your phone from your bag, you see there’s been no messages from Jungkook since yesterday afternoon when he said he would stop by as soon as he could. It shouldn’t be disappointing, you should be used to it, but that little pang still makes you feel some type of way.

You sigh, shoving your phone into your back pocket as you exit the library and see that it’s raining again. It seems like there has been constant rain over the last two weeks, making everything dreary. A mirror to how you felt inside as well.

Not having an umbrella, you power walk down the street towards the train station to get home. It’s only a couple of blocks but you still hate to do it at night. Especially when you get a sudden chill at the back of your neck, as if someone is following you. But every time you turn around, no one is there.

“Relax, ____. You’re exhausted and delirious,” you say to yourself, trying to calm your nerves as you continue walking.

Something big moves at the corner of your eye, dashing down the alleyway to your right and making you halt your quick steps. The only way to your apartment is past that alleyway, so you convince yourself once more that the exhaustion is getting to you and you press forward down the sidewalk.

You hold your breath and close your eyes as you sprint past the alleyway, stopping after a few feet to catch your breath.

You make it. You’re in the clear. The home stretch.

A cold hand wraps around your wrist and yanks you backwards into the alley. Your brain tries to catch up with what’s happening but when you try to scream, another hand covers your mouth just as your back is pressed against the cold, wet bricks of the wall behind you.

“Pigeon.” Taehyung’s deep voice sounds hoarse but also relieved. Your fight or flight instincts immediately melt away when your eyes settle on his injured face.

A cut on his eyebrow, a bruise beneath his left eye, blood dripping from his forehead from beneath his mess of black hair. What the hell happened to him?

You gently wrap your hand around his wrist and slowly move his hand away from your mouth.

“I won’t scream. I promise,” you assure him, his shoulders visibly unwinding.

“I know you’re scared of me. I’m sorry…I put you in danger because I was being selfish.” Taehyung takes a step back from you, giving you space.

“I’m not scared of you.” You reach out and softly touch his cheek just beneath his eye where the bruise has blossomed and he shivers at your touch.

“I’m just glad that you’re safe.” Taehyung moves your palm to his lips and presses a kiss to your skin.

“What happened to you, Taehyung? Where have you been?” 

“All I’ve wanted since this started was to expose The Life Foundation. They’re testing on people and killing them. Not a single person has survived until…”

“You,” you say quietly, watching his shoulders slump before he nods in agreement. “How did this happen?”

“I went to the lab to interview a couple of the scientists for an assignment…I got a little too curious I guess and followed a scientist down into a part of the lab no one knows exists. That’s where I saw the people they’re testing on…in cages. The symbiotes like Venom need a host but it wasn’t working and no one was surviving.” Taehyung runs his hand through his hair before he continues. “I accidentally released Venom when I tried to save one of the people in the cages and he bonded with me and somehow I survived. Still not sure how…”

“What’s stopping you from exposing them?” 

“I wanted to have hard proof before I took the information somewhere else but I haven’t been able to get back inside the lab, not even with Venom.” 

“Because of Jungkook.”

“He doesn’t understand what he’s getting himself into. They have suspicions but they’re keeping me from shutting the place down.” Taehyung sighs. “Your boyfriend is a pain in my ass.”

“What if…what if we talk to him? Jungkook will listen. I know he…” Taehyung cuts you off with a laugh.

“They think I’m a monster…and they aren’t wrong. But all Venom wants is to save the other symbiotes and get back to their planet.” Taehyung’s words almost sound disappointed when he talks about Venom leaving.

“But he’s…he’s hurting you. Can’t Venom heal you?”

“He does…he has. This last round of injuries was…extensive. I’m just healing more slowly.” He slumps against the opposite wall of the alley.

“You need to rest.”

“No. No, we’re going back to the lab tonight to try again.”

“Taehyung, please. He’s going to get you killed. Jungkook and Jin…they’re powerful.”

“You think I haven’t noticed?” He raises his voice slightly, but chokes on his words, folding over when a pain shoots through his side.

“That’s it. I want to talk to Venom.” You can’t stand to see him like this.

“Absolutely not. I’m not putting you in danger.”

“You’ll be there, right? You won’t let him hurt me.”

“I can’t always control him. He doesn’t always listen.” His eyes search yours for any sign of fear but he doesn’t find it.

“Let him out.” You cross your arms over your chest and wait for Taehyung to release his monster.

“Five minutes. That’s all I’m giving.” He takes several steps away from you until there’s plenty of space between the two of you. You nod that you’re ready.

The black crawling skin of Venom consumes Taehyung in almost an instant, his handsome face disappearing beneath terrifying white eyes and razor sharp teeth. Deep, bass filled growls flow from between those teeth and rumble the ground beneath your feet.

“Creature.” He says, smiling widely.

“Monster.” You retort.

“Sorry for…chasing you.” He keeps his distance, but paces back and forth through the alley. “I was…hungry.”

“You chase people and destroy buildings when you’re hungry?” You half laugh in disbelief.

“Very hungry!” He growls, pushing against a dumpster.

“Fine. Forget about it. I want you to let Taehyung rest, you’re going to get him killed.”

“Taehyung is fine.”

“No he isn’t! He’s all beat up, and I don’t even want to know what’s wrong internally. He needs time to heal.” You take a few steps closer.

“I can heal him, Creature.”

“He needs to rest. You need him and he won’t be of any use if he’s dead.” You stop as Venom groans and shoves his fists into the ground beside you.

“Demanding little bug.” He half spits.

“How long can you live without your host?” You don’t flinch at his outburst.

Venom doesn’t answer right away, he goes back to pacing the alley before he starts talking to himself…or to Taehyung.

“Bad idea…she pisses me off…should eat her…” Venom grabs his head in pain when the last line leaves his mouth. “Fine. No eating.” He comes back to stand in front of you, looming several feet taller. 

You look up and hold your stance. You’ll never let this pain in the ass monster know that he absolutely terrifies you.

“Three days. Three days before your atmosphere kills me.” Venom says, not seeming pleased.

“Then leave him alone for three days. Go away and let him rest. I mean it.” Venom lowers his face to yours so that you’re standing eye to eye. 

You can see your reflection in the shiny white of his eyes and your heart picks up its pace. Not because of the monster in front of you, but because somewhere behind those eyes is a man that means more to you than you thought he ever could. The strange feeling of just knowing someone is meant to be in your life becomes slightly overwhelming.

Without a second thought, one of your hands comes up and touches the side of Venom's face. His symbiote skin is cold, strange and unfamiliar. But it only takes a moment before Venom is melting away and once again revealing the stunned face of Taehyung.

“You got him to listen.” He breathes, taking your face in his hands.

“He’s not so tough.” You smile when he laughs and presses his forehead against yours.

“You’re exquisite.” His nose skims yours. “And I missed you.”

“I was so worried about you,” you admit softly against his mouth that has gravitated to yours.

He kisses you softly for a moment, neither of you noticing as Venom slithers out and makes his exit down the alley. You’re too relieved to have Taehyung safely pressed against you again. And when he starts to deepen your kiss, as much as you want it to continue, you press your palm to his chest and gently push him back.

“What’s the matter?” He asks, his brows furrowed in confusion.

“I wasn’t joking about you getting rest. I got you three days with no Venom. Let’s get you home, okay?” You lace your fingers through his and start walking towards the street, but he stops you.

“I haven’t been able to go back to the warehouse. They’ve been watching it like hawks.” His shoulder slump when he rubs the back of his neck.

“Where have you been sleeping?” 

“Abandoned buildings mostly. Or just not at all.” He laughs half heartedly.

“Let’s go to my place.” You know it’s a bad idea. Jungkook could drop in at any moment and you aren’t sure how he would react to finding the man behind the monster he’s been so desperately trying to defeat. “You’ll be safe there.”

“Will I?” Taehyung asks, wary for the same reasons you are.

“Yes. Because I’ll protect you.” Taehyung smiles at your declaration.

“I have no doubts about that, Pigeon.”

You take as many back ways as you can think of until you reach your apartment building, releasing a long breath when you safely reach the elevator and unlock your door. 

It feels strange to have Taehyung here, but also very right. He looks like a weight has been lifted off of him as he takes in your green velvet couch and collection of coffee mugs with a boxy smile on his face.

“You’re adorable.” He says, picking up a tiny cactus from your bookshelf that could definitely use some water.

“It’s not much.” You shrug, feeling your cheeks heat.

“It’s perfect.” He comes back to stand in front of you, long fingers gently gripping your chin to make you look at him. “It’s you and I think that’s perfect.”

“Tae…” you sigh but give into the kiss he sweetly presses to your lips. 

“Thank you.” He whispers after a moment. “I don’t know what I would’ve done if anything had…” You cut him off with another kiss.

“I’m fine, I promise.” You take both of his hands in yours and start to lead him towards your bathroom. “You, however, need to take a shower.”

“Saying I stink, Pigeon?” He teases, following you to your tiny bathroom.

“Definitely,” you counter, smiling when he laughs. A real laugh that you aren’t sure you’ve heard yet. It makes your stomach twist and clench.

“Come in with me?” Taehyung asks quietly when you bend to turn on the hot water for him. His fingers find your spine and tease up the column slowly.

God you want to. But the sudden memory of Jungkook in this bathroom with you two weeks ago clouds your vision and your ability to have this too.

“I’m going to make you some tea, okay? Take your time.” You stand on your toes to kiss him quickly, ignoring the pang in your chest when he pouts his bottom lip.

You close the bathroom door and press your back against it. You listen as Taehyung opens the shower curtain and gets inside, the smell of your rose scented body wash wafting from under the door when he uses it. You must be insane.

Bringing him here is so risky, but you can’t leave him out there with nowhere else to go. He means too much. 

When the bathroom door opens twenty minutes later, you jump at the sound, almost dropping your cup of tea to the hardwood floor. It almost takes a tumble a second time when you look up and see Taehyung standing in your kitchen with just a towel around his waist.

“My clothes were in pretty bad shape…I don’t suppose you have something I can borrow?” He asks with a shy smile on his face and fingers in his wet curls.

“Um…y-yeah. Yes. I’ll find something.” A wave of heat rushes over your skin as you hastily move past him and into your bedroom at the end of the hallway. He follows you, leaning against the door frame to watch you.

“Are you worried he’ll come here?” Taehyung asks, the pretty smile on his face replaced by a frown.

“A bit.” You admit, kneeling inside your closet to look through some drawers for sleeping pants. “It’s really just a matter of when…”

“Is he what you want?” The question throws you off, making you pause.

“I don’t know.” It’s an honest answer, more complicated than it should be. Taehyung nods but doesn’t press for more information. You’re not sure you can come with anything else even if he wants you to.

You finally find a pair of green and navy blue plaid pajama pants, pulling them out of the drawer and bringing them to Taehyung. 

He drops the towel as soon as you’re in front of him, eyes holding you in place with nowhere to escape.

“Thanks, Pigeon.” He doesn’t look away from your eyes as he slips his long legs into the too short leg holes and settles them loosely on his narrow hips. Your breath shakes when he steps closer and closes the gap between you. 

“I made you tea,” you croak.

“I don’t want tea.” He practically moans against your neck when he nuzzles your jaw. “I want to show you why I’m what you want.”

Your entire being trembles at the words.

“You should rest, Taehyung.” You can’t stop your hands from finding the warm skin of his shoulders and chest.

“No rest for the wicked, Pigeon.” His mouth claims yours, swallowing down any other protest you may have tried to use.

He slowly leads you back until the back of your knees hit your bed and you both fall onto the mattress. He kisses you until you’re dizzy and desperate for air, your legs wrapping around his hips in a desperate attempt to bring him closer.

And then you remember that your stove is still turned on with tea likely boiling over all over the burners.

“Tae…” Yyou try to say before his lips close over yours again. “The tea…I need to go turn it off.”

“No.” He nips your lips and moves his kisses down your chin and over your jaw.

“I’ll be quick. Just wait here.” You playfully push him off of you, his head landing on your pillows with a smile on his face.

You look back over your shoulder when you reach the door, Taehyung winking as you round the corner into the hallway.

Luckily, the tea is where it should be, inside the kettle. You turn off the burner and move the kettle onto a potholder onto the counter top. Then quickly turn off the lights before stopping by the bathroom to make something of your mess of hair as quickly as possible.

Back in the bedroom, you barely make it inside the door before you hear the quiet snores coming from Taehyung. His arms above his head and his face buried in the pillows as he lays on his back against your mustard yellow sheets. His half dried curls a messy little halo around his head. 

He really is beautiful.

You make your way to the bed, pulling your comforter over his sleeping form and softly touching the bruises in his cheek. He doesn’t stir even a little. 

Over the next three days you, watch him.

You’ve never seen someone sleep so much in your life. It worries you at first, checking to see if he is breaking multiple times throughout the day. But he just continues to sleep, only moving to turn on his side or stomach and barely makes any noise at all.

You email your professors the first day and tell them that you won’t be in class but would follow along online. You move a chair into the corner of your bedroom so you can stay close to him. It keeps you busy while Taehyung sleeps.

You also keep busy with cleaning your apartment and thinking of ways to have a very hard and strange conversation with Jungkook. How did you tell your best friend…someone you love…that you may also have feelings for someone else? 

And how did you then tell your best friend that the other person you have feelings for is the monster he’s been trying to capture for months?

At night you curl up next to him in your bed, but always carefully so you don't disturb him. You want him to feel better as soon as possible.

It was mid morning on the third day, some very difficult calculus questions driving you crazy when you hear Taehyung groan and lift his head from the pillow. 

“Pigeon?” He croaks, his voice rough and dry.

“I’m here, it’s okay.” You toss your book aside, rushing over to the side table and handing him the glass of water you sat out every day in case he woke up needing it. “Drink this please.”

He doesn’t argue, taking the glass of water and downing all its contents in an instant. He wipes his mouth with the back of his hands, chest heaving.

“That may have been the best water I’ve had in my life.” You take the glass and sit down next to him on the bed. “How long was I out for?”

“Almost three days.” You move some black curls away from his forehead when he looks up at you.

“Really? I wasted the whole three days sleeping? Fuck.” He sighs in annoyance.

“It wasn’t a waste, Tae. You obviously needed it after what you’ve been through lately.” 

The way he looks at you makes your stomach flutter and twist. Like he’s never seen anyone like you or felt anything like your touch. It’s maddening.

“I’ll be right back. Don’t move.” He squeezes your hand and jumps out of bed far too quickly, heading into your bathroom where you hear him using the extra toothbrush you had sat out for him. You can’t stop the smile that pulls at the corners of your mouth.

When he returns to the bed, he sits behind you and wraps his arms around your shoulders, pulling your back against his chest so he can nuzzle his face into your neck.

“Thank you for watching over me,” he mumbles into your neck.

“How do you know I watched over you?” You ask, leaning back into his chest.

“There’s a chair surrounded by snacks, coffee cups and calculus books set up in the corner, Pigeon.” Taehyung kisses your neck and makes you shudder. “You’re too good for me.”

“It’s not that.” Your voice is a whisper when he moves your sweater off of your shoulder to kiss the heated skin there.

“What is it?” His mouth continues leaving warm, wet paths along your neck and shoulder.

“I care…about you.” Your head lulls back against his shoulder when his hands slide up your front beneath your shirt to cup your breasts in his hands.

“I’m still going to show you why I’m what you want…what you need. I didn’t forget.” He nips your earlobe and pinches both nipples with his long fingers at the same time.

You spin around, grabbing his face roughly and slam your mouth onto his in the next second. Taehyung’s hands immediately find your hips helping you straddle his thighs to settle on his lap. 

Any clothing creating an unwanted barrier between the two of you are quickly discarded without a care for where they land. Your skin feels like there’s millions of tiny embers just below the surface waiting to crack through and set the whole room on fire. 

Taehyung holds one arm tightly around your waist while the other maneuvers the two of you back farther on the bed so he can rest his back against the headboard. Your mouths never leave the others, tongues and teeth clashing in the most desperate way. 

“Are you okay…with this?” Taehyung suddenly asks. His hair is a mess and his lips swollen and chapped.

“I don’t know how to answer that question anymore. I wish I just knew what to do…” You feel emotion start to take over and Taehyung grips your chin to look at him.

“It doesn’t matter. Not right now, okay? Right now I just want you to be mine. Because I’m yours…I belong to you.” He says it so simply. And it should be simple. It shouldn’t be possible to love them both.

He pulls you back to him, kissing you so gently it makes you shiver. One hand glides to the back of your head and settles in your hair while the other lifts your ass to hold you above his cock that was standing tall with need between your legs.

No more words need to be spoken as you position him at your entrance, your pussy slick and sticky from the build up to what’s about to happen. He takes his hand from your hip and brings it to your throbbing clit, using his thumb to stroke it slowly while you lower yourself onto him.

The stretch of him mixed with the way his thumb strokes you is as close to heaven as you can imagine. You can feel yourself getting wetter that more you try and accommodate his size.

“Be good for me, Pigeon. Ride my cock.” He moans the words around one of your nipples when he leans forward to capture one with his lips.

Once fully seated, you slowly move your hips in a circular motion, causing his engorged cock to hit places inside that make fireworks pop behind your eyelids and your head to fall back when your back arches.

“Fuck…you feel so good,” you finally manage to say.

“I could come right now just watching you take me like this, angel. Like you were made to have my cock inside you.” Taehyung groans as his hands find your hips and help you start to move up and down.

You find a mind numbing rhythm, and orgasm on the brink of breaking through. You’re so close it almost hurts. 

“I need to come, Tae…please.” You wrap your arms around his neck, sweaty chests sliding against the other.

“Me too. Fuck, I can’t wait to come inside you.” He holds you steady, digging his heels into the mattress and thrusting upwards to meet your movements.

A silent scream has your mouth hanging open and eyes rolling to the back of your head when you finally get your release. Taehyung’s lips and tongue scorching the skin of your neck when he feels you clench around him.

“Good girl, Pigeon. Come all over my cock.” He holds you down, fully sheathing inside you when he finds his release as well. 

You slump against his chest, breathing hard as you start to come down for the incredible high he had just given you. 

Taehyung kisses your shoulder and up your neck, over your jaw and chin until he reaches your lips. Kissing your raw lips in the softest way.

“You okay?” You ask, still out of breath.

“Never better.” He smiles, moving sweaty hair from your face.

“I’ll get you some more water. Maybe snacks?” You move from his lap, the sudden empty feeling making you groan.

“Venom will be here soon. If he isn’t already.” His smile fades.

“I know. So let’s get you fed and hydrated before he makes his presence known, okay?”

“Yeah, okay. Don’t be too long.” He holds your hand to help you off the bed while he readjusts against the headboard. You playfully roll your eyes, grabbing your t-shirt off the floor and quickly throwing it on before you slip out of your bedroom to the kitchen.

You fill up two more glasses of water and begin rummaging through your cabinets for any sort of edible snack when you hear tapping on the glass doors leading to your balcony. You nearly drop everything when you turn and see Jungkook standing there in his Spider-Man suit, his mask in his hand.

“Fuck.” You grumble, sitting down the snacks and water before going to unlock the door with pure fear coursing through your veins.

“Since when do you lock this door?” Jungkook asks as soon as you turn the lock.

“Just to be safe.” Your voice shakes and your eyes continuously flash towards the hallway where you know your bedroom door is wide open. Another man in your bed.

“I’m sorry I haven’t been here in so long I just…” He pauses, a look you recognize crossing his face. He senses something.

Shit.

“Is everything okay?” You know the answer.

“He’s in here.” Jungkook immediately starts to push past you to look through your apartment.

“Who? What are you talking about Jungkook?” You try to grab his arm while he looks in your living room.

“The monster. I know that feeling anywhere. He’s here. What the fuck is he doing here?” You shove against his chest to stop him.

“There’s no monster here. I think you need to go.”

“What the fuck is going on, Data? Is someone else here?” His jaw ticks and your panic is starting to take over.

“I…um. Jungkook, please just listen.”

“Who? Who the fuck is it?” He pushes past you and you grab his arm to stop him before he freezes in place, looking at the doorway that leads to the hall.

Taehyung in all his shirtless glory stands leaning against the frame.

“Looking for me?” Taehyung smirks and you want to die.

“Who the fuck are you?” Jungkook practically seethes.

“Pretty sure you know the answer to that.” Taehyung takes a step towards you and Jungkook immediately blocks his path.

“You’re him? The monster from the lab?” Jungkook asks, moving into an even more protective stance.

“You don’t need to protect her from me.” Taehyung crosses his arms over his chest and walks over to the counter where you left the water and snacks, picking up a glass and taking a few drinks. “I’d never hurt her.”

“You mean the way your monster left her bruised and bleeding by the docks? Fuck you.” Jungkook takes your hand and pulls you towards the balcony door. “I don’t know what you’re doing with him, Data, but he’s fucking dangerous. Let’s go.”

“Jungkook, please. You don’t understand.”

“Don’t fight me on this. I’m getting you out of here.”

“Since when do you care about ___? She may as well be alone when she’s with you.” Taehyung moves to stand in front of the doors.

“Shut the fuck up. You’re lucky I don’t drag you to Mr. Kim this fucking second.”

“Is that so, spider boy?” Taehyung smiles and grabs Jungkook’s shoulder to stop him from dragging you any farther.

Jungkook lets go of your wrist and pushes Taehyung in the chest. But before he can make any other moves, Venom’s black crawling skin swallows Taehyung and replaces him with the huge looking monster.

Venom roars, shaking your entire apartment. He’s so big he takes almost half the room.

“Get the hell out of here, Data!” Jungkook yells, slipping his mask back over his face.

You want to rip your hair from your head. Scream at the top of your lungs. Stomp on the floor like a two year old throwing a tantrum. 

But you deserve this after what you’ve been doing.

“Stop.” You say, watching Jungkook shoot a web at Venom’s sharp clawed hand. “Stop it!” You practically scream, making the both of them pause to look at you.

“Go outside, Creature.” Venom growls.

“You’re both going to listen to me. Right fucking now.” You walk across the kitchen and stand between them. “You’re not about to destroy my apartment with your pointless fighting. So listen to what I have to say.”

Jungkook stays in his defensive position but nods towards you for you to continue.

“You’re going to listen too, monster. Understand?”

“Bossy little creature.” He groans, ripping Jungkook’s web off of his hand and giving you his attention.

“I realized the other day that you all want the same thing. You want to shut down that lab and stop the testing they’re doing on humans. Venom wants to save his friends and go home and Jungkook, I know you want to save everyone trapped inside there. So why don’t we all work together to make it happen?” You release a long breath after everything spills out. “And after we do that…then we can talk about…us.” You motion between the three of you.

“Data…I didn’t know that I…” Jungkook starts to say but you stop him by holding up a hand.

“We aren’t doing this now, okay? Right now, we need to go see Jin.” 

“Ironman.” Venom growls in distaste.

“He can help. I know he’ll know how to get you and the other symbiotes home.” you try to reason. 

Venom contemplates for a moment before answering. “Fine, Creature. But if he messes with me, I eat him.”

“You’ve got to be kidding.” Jungkook half laughs, taking off his mask as he approaches you. “You’re serious?”

“Yes. Now let’s go.” You walk out the balcony door and wait expectantly. “Well?” You tap your foot.

Jungkook and Venom stare at each other for a moment, silently telling the other that these conversations aren’t over but that they’re going to trust you on this.

Jungkook puts his mask back on once more and makes a beeline towards you, grabbing you around the waist and jumping off the balcony with you in his arms. Venom barks a laugh and quickly follows after.

And then you’re falling.

taglist: @hanversace @chaelvrx @moonchild1 @rkivewritersblog @ungodlyjoon @ricecakeslove @jeonsweetpea @screamertannie @tearyjjeon @kookrecs @bintificreads @minisugakoobies @sureconfused @boisenberry77@ts19009 @lorarri @looneybleus @joyouart @armyugh @kthsmoon @vminluvrs @ooooglymoooogly (i did my best with this, i may have missed people who asked)

series masterlist

#bts #bts fic #bts smut #bts fanfic #jungkook fic #jeon jungkook #jungkook smut #taehyung fic #taehyung smut #jungkook x reader #taehyung x reader #bts imagines #marvel au #spideykook #Spotify

[katszumi]

bakugou hated defeat. he was never one to forfeit anything. if he could challenge the ocean to a battle, he would and sincerely believe he’d win.

once, he admits defeat to the universe and chooses to let you slip through his fingers.

when he began to fall in love with your sweet manner, delicate touch, warm smile and witty behavior, he also began to hate himself.

he hated the way he was when it came to feelings. he knew he wasn’t able to express his emotions like a good boyfriend should. he was intolerable, insufferable. something that couldn’t have mixed with you.

love was a foreign concept to him, something he couldn’t grasp but something he desperately wished for deep down, no matter how many times he brushed it off or ridiculed the idea.

bakugou knew love wasn’t designed for him, and he wasn’t ever going to let his silly imagination deceive him otherwise.

but, he knows his heart never stands a chance. especially tonight when he finds you on the terrace of ua. the night-sky wrapped the area in its darkness, the crescent moon illuminating the brightest color it could, and the silent night bringing the greatest solitude it could.

bakugou attempts to leave you be, but your eyes find him faster than he originally thought, him being pulled into your magnetic, overwhelming aura.

“hey,” he begins, a slight waver in his voice from his nerves. “not enjoyin’ the party inside?”

you chuckle slightly, waving his question off. “just needed some air.”

bakugou nods in response. he folded his arms over the railing, taking in the scenery around them.

it was the last night for the third years at ua, everyone celebrating their triumphs, losses, friendships. it was the last time they’d be within this building all together, the last time bakugou could silently admire you from afar. he’d always think about his last day there, wondering if he’d be shouting from excitement. he wasn’t close to thinking that he’d feel like his whole world was coming down.

you were planning to travel to the united states to start your hero debut, receiving an offer there that you just couldn’t pass up. he remembered the moment when you told him so vividly. you wore a huge smile, basically jumping out of excitement. that was the first time bakugou came to the realization that he couldn’t have you.

truth be told, he was scared of breaking paths with you. anger, sorrow, fear. you shone a light on all of those emotions. it felt like his anchor was gone. breaking every stable piece off of him one by one.

“so, what’s next for you? don’t think you ever told me your plan.”

in his head, bakugou replies with, that was on purpose. he wanted to remove everything from his mind. go with the flow and live in the moment until it was officially time to get started on his new path of life. but, he figured there was no more time to put it off.

“stay in the city for a bit. kirishima talked about collaboratin’ on an agency, so been givin’ that some consideration.” he replies somberly. “i don’t know really, just gotta find something to keep me busy.”

you echoed bakugou’s action from earlier, nodding to his statement. a small sigh parted your lips, partly from exhaustion, but also from sadness.

“you scared?” it came out as a whisper, as if it was a taboo subject to never touch on, and frankly it was when it came to bakugou.

he waited to respond, pausing for as long as he could before the silence turned uncomfortable.

“yeah.” something so simple but spoke so much considering bakugou would never admit such a thing. “you’ll be okay though. you got an offer some of us wish we could have, and i heard the states has good job opportunities.”

“i don’t wanna go.” first it came out as a mumble, bakugou unsure if he just understood the words that came out of your mouth.

“what?”

“i don’t want to go.” this time, your voice was much more stern.

“the fuck you talkin’ about? you’ve been excited for this shit the day you got the letter, now you don’t wanna go? as if.” he was aware that he came off a little too defensive, mostly to shield his heart from catching a little bit of hope, he didn’t mean to come at you so harshly.

you peeled your eyes away from him, purposely avoiding his eye contact. looking at him seemed more like receiving a scolding from a parent more than anything right now.

“i mean, the united states? i’ll be there alone, no family, no friends. it’s not the money or opportunities i’m concerned about, bakugou. it’s about my happiness.” you explained. “isn’t that something you’re thinking about too?”

bakugou weighs his options. he thinks he has nothing else to lose, but he also considers the fact of you breaking his heart even more than it is. besides, you were smart, he knew you were going to take the offer anyway no matter how bad your nerves were eating you up.

“you can’t think with your heart about things like this, y/n.” he knows he’s an asshole. he knows you’re looking to him for the reassurance you want to hear but he just can’t give it.

“i’m not! i just want to be happy doing the things i love and that’s not possible in an environment i cant stand to be in.”

“you don’t know that yet.”

“i’m getting a pretty good feeling.”

“because you’re scared.”

you shrug, “so what? you don’t know how i feel. you’ll be here with your mom, dad, and all of your friends. i’ll have to start over from scratch in a country i know nothing about.”

he scoffed, his eyes darting away from your figure. “right because you know exactly how i feel.” his tone bled with sarcasm.

“you don’t tell me how you feel for anything, so sorry for taking an educated guess.” you retorted.

“you never ask to begin with.”

“as if you’d even tell me. you think i haven’t noticed you avoiding me these past couple of weeks? you don’t even talk to me anymore.”

now the roles reversed, you stared at him, bakugou not daring to look into your eye.

he shifted in his position, beginning to become uncomfortable. he replayed in his mind what he should’ve done moments ago instead of coming to speak to you.

“nothing to say?” you were playing with fire, not caring that you were poking the bear. “guess that’s not anything new. you just do whatever you want, say whatever you wish without thinking of the other person, because you’re ‘katsuki bakugou’. the man who cares about none other than the title of being the number one hero.”

“that’s not fuckin’ true and you know it.” he snaps his head towards you.

“do i?” your eyes searched his. “maybe a few months ago i would’ve, but you’ve been treating me like an outcast recently. i thought i mattered to you! i thought we were something!”

“what do you want me to say here?”

“i want you to be honest.”

bakugou clenched his teeth, his jaw sharpening from the action. of course he wanted to be with you, there was no other girl that he could imagine being with. but it just couldn’t work. you weren’t made to be with a monster, and he didn’t deserve to enjoy something so sweet as you.

so, bakugou opted to refuse the truth once again, brushing her off.

“you’re just too good for me.” he simply replies. “don’t waste your potential here. go to america.”

bakugou takes no more time to indulge in your erratic behavior, so he leaves you at the terrace, the noise of the party being heard the moment he opened the side door.

he wanted you more than anything. if the universe loved him a little more, then maybe things between you two would work out. but because of his shitty luck and vexatious attitude, you two just didn’t match.

he also knew there was just someone you were bound to fall in love with in america.

bakugou wasn’t going to lead you on to make a stupid decision. even if that meant destroying himself in the process.

the morning after, your name wasn’t to be found on any of his socials, and his messages to you turned green. if he didn’t know before, then he definitely knew now that he burned anything he had with you.

pt two

#bakugou katsuki #bakugou smut #bakugou x reader #bnha #bnha bakugo katsuki #bnha bakugo x reader #bnha bakugou #bnha x reader #katsuki bakugo mha #katsuki bakugo x reader #katsuki bakugo my hero academia #katsuki bakugo fluff #katsuki bakugo imagine #katsuki x you #my hero academia bakugou #bakugo katuski #katsuki bakugou #bakugou angst #bakugou x reader angst #bakugou x y/n #mha bakugou #bakugou x you #katsukibakugou #katsuki smut #my hero academia #bnha smut #my hero academy fanfiction #boku no hero academia #bakugou fluff #bakugou fanart

[toxicanonymity]

I really think raider joel is my favorite. He’s the worst, he is such an awful person, but he’s so sweet and tender and I really believe he would protect me and keep me safe and just make me his sex prisoner, but in a really cozy domestic way. He’s so hot I can’t think straight. I’d shoot Jack myself for more raider Joel.

Stash House

850 | raider!Joel x f!reader | masterlist

mood board by @milla-frenchy

Requested: @ess-perspective-blog this is your request hope you like it. @swedishscumfuck for the manhandling. @xdaddysprincessxx for the javi clip.

WARNINGS: I8+ dark!Joel, kidnapping, blindfold, very dubcon exhibitionist P in V, violence (toward men), humiliation, Reader can sit on Joel. This is third. Can read alone or Raider Masterlist.

You’re sitting in Joel’s lap in a van full of raiders on the way to their stash house. He didn’t want you sitting next to anyone else.  You're blindfolded so you won’t know the location. Joel's hardness is already digging into you. Then, when they take a dirt road, the terrain bounces you and he swells harder with a deep inhale. His stiff cock vibrates you with the rough ride.  You’re throbbing, so wet you might soak through your pants. Joel holds you firmly on his lap, tight against his chest and belly.  He rests his nose against your neck and inhales. You ride in silence.  The other men obviously have a problem with you being there but are afraid to say anything and rightfully so.  

The van comes to stop and Joel takes off your blindfold.  They start getting out of the van and unloading.  

Finally, one of the men speaks up. 

“Should we really let her in-”  

Joel isn’t having it. “She stays with me and I’m not gonna tell you again.” From what you’ve seen so far, this feels like a generous warning. The man goes quiet. 

Joel wraps a big arm around you and wrangles you inside with your feet occasionally dragging on the gravel.  He doesn’t bother trying to hide his arousal.  He’s like an animal - his virility and ample size are part of his display of dominance.  

-

At the stash house, there are some men who weren't on the raid that day.  Joel forces you into a room that has some old, tattered furniture, contraband and stolen goods strewn about, and a few dirty cots.  Men are milling around talking to each other.  A few faces you haven’t seen before are sitting on the forlorn couch and chairs.  They turn and stare at you like a piece of meat. 

“Nice souvenir,” one of them says and they all stand up. They’re like sharks in the water and you’re chum. Joel’s nostrils flare as the one who spoke approaches. 

He shoves you onto a cot and says “stay put, sweet pea,”  then gets between you and the men and decks the cheeky one in the face, sending him stumbling.  Joel picks him up and holds his shirt while he punches him again then lets him fall to the ground and beats him until his face is bloody. 

“Don’t even think about touchin’ her.” 

You sit on the cot watching, still turned on from the ride.  Joel starts walking back to you, unbuckling his belt, chest rising and falling with rage.   He wraps a strong arm around you and grabs you by the waistband,  manhandling you onto your stomach.  Then he rips your pants down.  

He slides his fingers against your dripping seam and inhales sharply.  “I’m comin, sweet pea hold on” The swollen tip of his cock notches at your entrance, then he slams into you and your mouth falls open with the stretch of his girth.  He backs up half way, then pulls you back on his cock as he plunges further into you and bottoms out with a grunt. 

The men watch, and you try not to look at them, terrified of what Joel might do to you.  You focus your eyes on the haunted stains beneath you.  Joel's massive hand holds onto the edge of the dirty mattress for leverage, another hand on your shoulder as he rails you for the third time today, harder than ever.  Each time he buries his cruel length inside you, the knot in your core tenses more.  

He grabs you by the back of your neck and manhandles you up on your knees, your back arching.He pulls your shirt and bra up over your tits.  “Close your eyes, baby.” You pinch your lids shut and he angles you just slightly toward the men. 

“Fellas, take a good look ‘cause it's your last." 

He gropes your breasts as he brutally pummels you from the back harder, faster, grunting and breathing heavily as his thick cock pistons into you.  One of his hands comes to your clit, then he flattens that hand against you for leverage as he holds his other arm across your breasts.  He slams into you with more power and speed than you could have imagined and his breath becomes ragged. He tightens his grip with both arms, bringing you as close as possible so his power doesn't send you flying.

With a long shudder, he begins to erupt inside you. He slows his pace but plunges into you just as hard, grunting with each pulse.   The pulsation of his cock and the sound of his pleasure sends you over the edge and you fail to suppress a moan.  Your face gets hot with shame, but your climax doesn't stop.  You clench around his hard cock as he fills you with his seed, and these terrible men watch it all.

You catch your breath. He inhales your neck and his hands gently rove your breasts and abdomen as you briefly recover.  He kisses your neck with his mouth closed and whispers, "you did great, baby." 

He fixes your clothes and his, then addresses the men again. "Don't even look in her direction. Understand?"

They murmur their agreement then cower away and Joel lets you rest on the dirty mattress facing away from everyone while they unload their new spoils. 

-

Next: shooting practice drabble; Raider 4: Failed Escape

Thank you for reading and engaging!! Y'all are the best. Also, a couple of other raider Joel requests have def been consistent with where I see it going, it's just that idk if we're there yet so hang tight 😉.

All Joel: @ethanhoewke @silkiers @eiviea @evyiione

#joel miller x reader #joel miller smut #dark!joel miller #dark!joel #joel miller x you #pedro pascal #pedro pascal smut #pedro pascal fic #joel miller fic #toxicanonymity ☠️ #possessive!joel #joel miller fanfiction #raider!joel #raider!joel miller #OG!raider☠️

[sil-te-plait-tue-moi]

The idler wheel is wiser than the driver of the screw.

Quick summary: After one too many drinks, you find yourself unable to think of anything but a certain smart-mouth detective who is in desperate need of a release.

Word count: 11K (I'm sorry)

Warnings: This is basically just SMUTT with a lil feelings (if you squint) sprinkled in there; kind of angsty at points (mentions of canon-typical death and violence (hellooo they're homicide detectives); gets a bit existential at points, watch out; pretentious.

A/N: YAY! I had this obsession with True Detective S1 all throughout October (watched it at my nan's house lmao), so enjoy the lovechild of that. This is just for fun, so, please, nobody be angry at me if they don't agree with Rust's characterisation, or any of the weird philosophical chat, lalallalal, OKAY ENJOY!!

***

The night air is sluggish and humid with the remnants of a warm summer’s rain, pressing down thickly, close, clogging, simmering just below the surface.

A few times, I’ve interviewed people who live in these sorts of places: motel-types, the “in-between”, where folks stay when they’ve either got no money, no choice or nobody. Other residents include passers-by who’re looking to save money on accommodation, skipping on the fancier places. Not that Louisiana really has any “fancier places”. Places without the paint peeling off walls like dead skin, I guess. A bed and breakfast in the nicer suburbia, with a view overlooking a subpar daydream of a ghost town centre. 

I’ve leaned up against the crooked, metal railing, felt the influence of my weight almost sending it and myself crashing down onto the faded parking lot beneath. I’ve leaned up there—after knocking—and waited, waited for a grey face to peer through a crack in the cracked door. I’ve smiled and remarked about how the beat-up, brass numbers up there are hanging by a thread. Sometimes, people are real stingy – they slink out and close the door behind them, or they remain in that little slit, just an eye visible, or they plain shut it in my face. Most let me in right away, maybe a little intimidated by the shiny badge clipped up in my jacket – I’ve sat across from ‘em, felt that mud in the room’s air seep into my pores, inviting me under its still swamp. 

Seems like the sort of place for him.

Too many a fuckin’ time, Marty’s come grumbling and muttering into the office kitchen, rolling his eyes, scoffing, huffing, the whole lot. And when I ask him why the strop?—“Ancient fuckin’ philosopher fuckin’ Rust Cohle on it again. Birthday’s comin’ up: get me earplugs and a generous bit o’ duct tape for my dear partner over there, would you?” 

Or somethin’ along those lines. 

For all his apparent talk about us silly, little “biological puppets”, this seems like Rust’s sort of place. Temporary existence, temporary living. Purgatory?

Whatever.

If you ask me, Rust Cohle’s head is so far up his own ass that it’s no wonder his outlook on life is so dark. 

If I was more sober, maybe I’d be thinking about it—about him—less—but this night out has had me so drunk I was maybe even hallucinating at some point. Rust?—sure, he’s been in the back of my mind for some part of the last few months – I have to see him most days I go to work, don’t I? – but, sometime in the space between my third and fourth shot of straight vodka, he was suddenly at the very front of it. I’d seen a guy who smoked like him: cigarette pinched between his thumb and forefinger, a simple, deep drag. I’d thought it was him, but then I realised his face was shrouded in the smoke that he’d exhaled, and I recalled that Rust never seems to do that. Never seems to exhale. All the tar and shit stays in. 

With a twist of my keys, the engine rumbles off into more-or-less silence. Fuck, it’s a bad idea, yes, just being here. If he likes to keep his distance, well—he’s entitled to that choice. 

I glance over my shoulder, out the window, out at the complex which is all yellow and shining, illuminated by buzzing halogen light bars and, of course, the occasional bug zapper. It’s clean enough. The lines of this parking space were white enough. Apartment 11A, said Marty. Second floor. 

“Are you drunk?” he’d asked – Marty, not Rust.

I’d replied, “No,” pressing closer to the phone box in attempts to remove myself from the swarm and bustle of the ladies’ bathroom. And it was an honest reply. Sort of. Despite his scepticism, by that time, I’d long stopped drinking, and all that remained from it was a sort of numb tingle in my fingertips—as far as I was concerned. 

I don’t think I’d be in this parking lot, stepping out of my car, if I wasn’t still a little bit gone. 

Marty’s sigh had crackled through the receiver. “Don’t bring any o’ tha’ party-this-party-that attitude to ‘im, alright? He’ll hate it.” I’d told him okay, my stomach spiking up with excitement. “Fact is, I don’t think you should go at all. ‘f you do, should be a work matter. This a work matter, detective?”

I’d lied, said yes, perhaps with a slur to my voice. 

He clicked his tongue. “Okay, buck, whatever you say.” Then, he’d hung up. 

There was something disapproving in the manner of the conversation. I got the feeling that he was talking to me in the same voice he used to lecture his daughters. The only reason I’d called him was to get something from him, sure, so that I could basically get something from Rust, his partner. I could see how that sort of thing might’ve upset someone. Not that Marty Hart should have any right to judge, not when he’s coming into work in the same clothes as the day before, stinking of sweat and God knows what. The unsaid agreement of everyone in the office is to turn a blind eye. I’ve met his wife. Someone should cut off his damn dick. 

Quiet, now. Hell, who am I to talk? Marty’s fun to chat with, makes a slow day at the office a little brighter. ‘Course, there’s rarely a slow day at the office.

And I’m at the top of the stairs, now. And I knock—one, two, three—on the pilling, forest-green door. Dulled down 11A. Blinds are determinedly shut, slats flat. For a second, I think maybe I’ll be waking him.

Then I remember Rust doesn’t sleep. 

A grey face appears as the door swings just a little ways open, grave and sunken-tired. His expression isn’t so pissed-off as it is just his usual expression. 

“Rusty,” I say to him with a small nod, words scraping out dryly. 

He doesn’t respond right away – ‘stead, he leans his body out partway, eyes absent like he’s searching for some hooligan criminal in the night.

“Marty told you my address?” he asks lowly. It’s more a statement than anything, but I amuse him with a nod anyways. There’s a cigarette flaring up between his fingers. His hand twitches a little like he’s wanting to take a drag, but his eyes are fixed on my shoes, now, like he’s still coming to terms with the fact I’m a foreign body in his domain. 

My toes curl up tight in my shoes – there’s that prick of anticipation again. Ice-cold, you could easily mistake it as dread. 

Rust doesn’t exactly subject me to an imploring look—not really his style—but he bows his head down just slightly – that’s sign enough for me. He wants to know why I’m here, and he no doubt wants to know the quickest way to be rid of me. 

I sigh. I ask him.

My body trembles, and he notices it, records it, stores it away for later reference, for some other time he’ll find that it and me will contribute to his purpose. 

Rust has a face of stone. I get to know it well as I search for a sign there that might let me know what lies beneath. But, of course, a statue is solid through and through. Sharp angles and smooth planes carved hollow. If he’s cold to the touch, I’d like to reach out and be sure. Is he cold where a man ought to be warm? Christ, it makes my pulse jump just to think about it. 

There is no greater purpose or cruel intention underlying my words, as far as I’m concerned. Rust, however, lingers there, with his arm up on the door, barricading the entrance, while he peels back and flits over every layer of possible meaning, his attention fixed absently on my left ear.

He then looks at me—briefly—in the eyes, with a sort of paralysing intensity. Even the tingling in my fingers ceases to be. 

It takes a moment, pregnant with the chorus of cicadas, crickets and other night-creatures, before he steps back neatly to allow me in.

The door clicks softly behind me as I enter into a room that’s bare as bare can be.  

Rust grunts, coming up around me and into the kitchen area. “Want anything?” he mumbles around his cigarette, other hand shoved in his pocket. He’s still half-dressed in his work clothes, his tie strewn on the counter, his blazer slumped over a rickety picnic chair perched up in front of a wall of crime scenes and dead bodies. My eyes linger there—how can they not?

“A beer,” I tell him, still looking at those photographs, then at the stacks upon stacks of books. Philosophy, ethics, religion. Names I’d expect only those with PhDs to know.  

“Don’t think you’ve had ‘nuff to drink already?”  

I shoot him a look. “I think I can handle it, Rust.” He straightens up, raises his brow. I snort, reasoning, “I’ll only have one.”

“One,” he agrees, opening up the fridge and having a rummage around.  

White walls and all of them empty, like some sort of psych ward. Half-sure Rust actually did do some time in that type of care, though, so—shouldn’t make any quips about that. I don’t want him thinking I think he’s crazy – he gets enough of that, I’m sure.   

Back at my place, though, I’ve got posters or drawings or paintings up around every corner. My niece’s drawing of a mermaid sits on my dresser, and photographs of my family are displayed in the hallway. One up by the TV, I painted myself when I was in high school. About two years after I graduated, they asked if I wanted my portfolio back, and I’d obviously said yes. And I love my stuff! Some ‘cause it’s pretty, others because of memories and whatnot. Guess some people don’t have that creative trait, or they lose it. Or maybe they detest the sentiments, those strings that have been, are and will be attached to things. When my cousin broke up with her boyfriend, she cut her hair and burned his clothes. “I just want to forget him,” she’d snarled. I’d sputtered a laugh into my tea.

Rust plants a Corona down on the counter, already cracked open.

There’s no mirror in here either – I can’t check whether I look as desperate as I feel. When I focus back on him, Rust is taking a swig from his own beer, turning to glance at the crucifix pinned above the messy mattress on the floor. Huh. Didn’t peg him as a Christian.

His honey-blond hair doesn’t look cold to the touch, that’s for sure ‘n’ certain. Wonder if he just wakes up like that or what. Once, Marty had been teasing him at work, even cracking a smile out of the old guy. “Ain’t them just the prettiest curls y’ever seen, buck?” he’d remarked, nudging into me, cooing at him. Silently, in my head, even then, I’d agreed: prettiest curls I’d ever seen. Rust hadn’t looked up to chart my reaction, but, if he had, he’d maybe have seen my fidgeting fingers or hitch of breath. Or maybe he felt it, heard it. 

“Sorry to barge in on you like this,” I offer pathetically through a nervous smile. 

He blinks, takes another swig, leaning over the counter that separates us. “No, y’aint.”

Jesus, I have to turn my head and shut my eyes for a second. I don’t particularly believe in God, but I ask Him to please give me the strength to resist my urges and act like a normal damn person for at least a few more minutes. And then I apologise for only praying out of convenience. In the face of temptation. This is why people shouldn’t drink – still, doesn’t stop me from downing a good part of my beer.

I turn to the wall and try to turn myself off a little bit. It’s not hard – Rust still has Dora Lange (rest her soul) pinned up on his wall, naked, blue, stiff. I don’t want to know why, so I don’t ask him. 

His eyes are adamant on the side of my head. Funny how he never seems to look at me at the same time I’m looking at him. Pisses me off a lot of the time – not just him, but in general. A lot of people share this same fear of not being heard, not being listened to and not being cared about. Men in particular, I’ve noticed, have a tendency to raise their voice over others’, to yell or shout or hit things or push ‘n’ shove. Marty’s that way – a lot of men at the precinct are, too. Women who are raised to be the listeners sometimes act out in the same way, frustrated at all the things they have to care about that men don’t, burdened with manners and politeness. I used to hate having to listen, to wait for the man who interrupted me to finish speaking. Rust always lets people finish their point, for better and for worse. Pisses me off in a different type of way. I can feel his judgement seeping out of him, so potent that’s it’s tangible, lapping at my feet.

He doesn’t push and shove – he’s a listener, too. Of course, he has that male privilege where his silence has a gravity, a magnetic pull, where mine is simply as is. At least he pays attention. Sure, on the surface, it might look like he doesn’t care at all, hunched over a case file at his desk, back turned to me and the rest of the lot, but proximity has its power – assigned workspaces put with his personality, and he knows what’s like and unlike me better than my sister. He’s reading into my refusal to talk, to face him – unlike me.

“So, you’ve given this some thought, then,” Rust says matter-of-factly, and my tummy bubbles up.

I snicker nervously, heart racing. God, I’d expected surprise, disbelief, outright refusal, maybe even a little disgust, but, when I manage to turn around and look at his face again, it just seems to me like a calmness. Stoicism found in the affirmation, maybe, of his expectations. It’s like I’m walking right into one of those little theories of his: a proved hypothesis.

I take another sip from my beer, feeling too shy for my liking. “Well, yeah,” I drawl, slumping over the kitchen counter and propping my chin up to look right back at him in a surge of liquid confidence. “I always think ‘fore I do anything that’s anything, Rust.”

Almost immediately, he retreats, standing up straight and resting the small of his back against the lip of the sink behind him. He hums, glances away. “We both know that’s a lie,” he combats, hands tucked into his pockets, chin tilted up, eyes down. A mouthful of beer numbs the sting of rejection. “What you mean is you think you can justify all your decisions. You think you can justify why you knocked on my door and said what you said—” he elaborates quietly, eliciting a snort from me, “—but, at the end o’ the day, all your decisions boil down to what you feel is right, not what is right.”

“‘n' you think you ‘n’ you alone know what’s right?”

Slate-grey eyes flit up and down my face, like I’m a specimen on a slide.

“I think that the girl who’s stumbled up on a fella’s door asking him to fuck her is less inclined to know, without bias, what’s right, yes.”

I swallow thickly, sucking the remaining flavour of beer off of my tongue before going in for another swig.

Christ.

Not a single bat of his eyes. Not a quiver of his mouth, not a twitch to his nose, not a morsel of natural, human hesitation. Does he have to be so crass? I did the courtesy of making it palatable, at least to my own ears, with a euphemism. But when have I ever known Rust Cohle to water anything down? No drink I’ve ever consumed will match his body’s preference of alcohol content. He’s nursing his beer close to his chest, but who knows what poisons lay dormant in these cabinets?

“Rusty,” I say lowly, maybe asking for a break – I close my eyes for just a second, part because I couldn’t bear it if I caught some sort of disapproval on his face, and part because it’s just past two o’clock in the morning.

Late nights have consumed my life recently, what with that sicko rapist connected to a Christian fertility cult. Children of God – “go forth and multiply”. His confession had turned my blood cold. Johansson had offered to sit in the box instead, but I did it anyway. I went home and cried over it, then came into work the next day to talk to some press and then receive my new assignment.

He hums, taking a drag from his cigarette, swallowing the smoke down. Rust knows how it is. To be honest, I’m probably the one who doesn’t know the half of it. One night at the office, he’d casually confessed to his insomnia, like he was just commenting on the state of the weather ‘n’ nothin’ else. So, I guess I won’t pretend to get it.

I gnaw on the inside of my cheek. “Are you into that whole abstinence thing?”

The weak light above flickers gently as he pauses, turns the question over in his mind. Anyone else would’ve surely laughed.

“I believe that man is susceptible to desire, yes—but he can resist it and its consequences should his willpower be stronger than the false promises posed by that temptation.

I snort again, because, now, I really am tipsy, and I can’t hold in my attitude any longer. It’s not that I think he’s lost it or whatever. It’s just—he’s so—objectively—absurd. Well—“objectively”. He’s got points, but those points lose all meaning in the spiralling darkness of overthought and deep contemplation wherein he’ll explain that everything really means nothing—and he’ll be right about that, sure, but also unintentionally prove a point about himself. I’d ask him what it means when, in a world where everything means nothing, a child will give their friend a flower found on the way to school, but I feel like his answer would be too morbid for my liking. Does that make me an unreliable source? The fact that I want to live?

He's absurd. He’s also a little bit awry in the head. Don’t know what he’s lost or what he’s lookin’ for, but it’s not a good look on him. He’s honest, yes – that’s a good trait. But honesty without kindness is cruelty. And he is kind – underneath, he’s kind, and I know that because of how hard he works to weed out evil people in this world, most times at his own risk. That’s kindness, albeit unconventional, whether he realises it or not.

The kindness almost cancels out his arrogance.

“So, what?” I challenge under the guise of a teasing grin. “You can go mouthin’ off for hours on end about how up themselves religious people and all’at are, but you can’t draw the similarities between their philosophy and your philosophy? How does that work, Rust?”

While I was working that Children of God nightmare of a case, he just couldn’t seem to restrain himself – every bullshit word that left him revealed to me his hubris. Now, I’m not angry, and he’s not stupid – we’re not arguing. In fact, he seems intrigued, lean body shifted toward me. He sets his beer down on the counter, crosses his arms over his chest after securing his cigarette between his lips, and lowers his head as if to listen to me better.

I sigh, continue. “D’you know what I think? I think you oversimplify humanity. You’re a great detective—‘nd I guess you know it—and, within the confines of your job, it serves you well, makes you good in the box. But your assumptions are too general. People are who they are, sure, but they also decide to be those people. By their environment and those who surround ‘em, people make the decisions that define ‘em. A lot of the time, their circumstances ain’t fair. People born into badness are trapped by the badness—either physically, or up in their heads—and they have a tough time escapin’ it.”

Rust inhales the smoke again, the only evidence of it happening being the soft whisp that curls away from his nose. I wonder to myself how his lungs are still standing.

“‘s that how you explain that—homicide case you’re workin’ on?” Three-year-old boy died of neglect, his siblings found locked in cabinets, one in a dog cage, by their mother and stepfather. Rust’s eyes flash silver. “Killer had a tough time?”

Asshole.

I narrow my eyes dangerously. “Don’t be mean, Rusty,” I scold, and he blinks in concession. “I think evil exists. I think it’s complicated. I think you summarise things that ought not to be summarised.”

He’s silent for a heartbeat. Then, his hand comes up to pinch away his cigarette, and he waves it in a small flourish, explaining, “When I say “people”, I mean society. Human culture.”

“Last I checked, Rust, you don’t know everybody on the planet. You don’t know their “culture”, or experiences.” That seems to shut him up. My eyes wander to his broad shoulders, trail along the meat of his arms beneath the cheap, polyester shirt that hugs close to the muscle, and they linger there like the quiet that settles between us.

He nods slowly, once. “Our decisions define us?”

I bob my head, unabashedly staring at the elegant column of his throat, his neck, and the stretch of tan skin that is settled beneath the white undershirt revealed by the first one, two, three buttons which have recently been undone.

He’s quieter when he asks me, “Well, how does this decision define you, then?” There’s nothing malicious about the way he says it, or even lustful – just a calm curiosity.

“Ain’t it obvious?” I grin again, laugh a little, blush hotly. “I’m horny!” I hide my face in my shoulder, trying to compose the hiccups of laughter in my stomach. “I’m sorry,” I snicker, wiping my palm over my brow, my eyes. “This probably isn’t very attractive to you.”

“You’re a very pretty girl,” he replies. He mutters my name solemnly, like we’re in a formal meeting or something.

I glance up, check whether he’ll offer me eye contact again, but he doesn’t – he’s staring at the wall, lost.

I scoff. “You’re a very pretty guy, Rust.”

God willing, none of the boys at the precinct will ever find out about this. If Marty lets it slip that I even asked for Rust’s address, then I’ll never hear the end of it. Worse, everyone’ll think I’m dead-gone over him. Guess I don’t really fit the standards expected of women around here: “wife”, or “whore”. Or “dead”. It’s hard enough to be taken seriously going about pretending I’m not interested in sex at all. Once sex comes into the equation, I’ll be reduced to that and nothing else. 

Anxious, I start flicking up under my fingernails. Is Rust already starting to think those things, too? I’m a great detective, but that’s the only capacity in which he’s really known me. 

I wring the neck of my bottle. “I should explain—”

He holds his hand up, stating, “I don’t need you to. Do you feel the need to?” 

Curious, wary, I watch his face, a blank slate. Still waters run deep. My eyes drift down, to where his hands are together in front of him, one relaxed beside him the other curled around his wrist with two fingers resting on the pulse.

“No,” I reply. 

“You thought it over,” he says, eyes tilting up at the ceiling, aloof, bored, maybe. His words are sort of monotone, like he’s reciting a passage from a book that he’s just recently read: “You chose me because you know me. You haven’t been sleeping well. You’re stressed, you’re scared, you’re frustrated.” He blinks. “You’re attracted to me due to some—unfortunate trigger beyond your control in the reptilian part of your brain.” Brief as the flicker of a candle in a still room, he looks over me, brow raised slightly as if daring me to tell him that he’s wrong. He pauses again, takes a short puff. “It makes you think I can take care o’ your needs.”

Look at the state of him: sallow and wilting on the inside. Reducing me down to a sentence or two, and being right about it.

“Well, can you?” I ask weakly, feeling small. He looks over me, blinks blankly. “How do you take care of your needs?” No reply. “You do have needs, don’t you?” I remark, tapping the rim of my bottle to my warm temple. “Programming ‘n’ whatnot.” 

He tilts his head away in dismissal. 

I smile, more to myself than to him. “Beat off in the shower, is it?”

For a second, Rust is still. My eyes grow heavy, admiring the strong profile of his nose. He then nods helplessly, like there’s no point in trying to lie.

I hum, a soft, self-satisfied smirk edging its way onto my face. “Must feel like a sin,” I snicker.  

He squints slightly, like he disagrees with my logic, but does not interrupt to protest. 

“I remember takin’ baths as a teenager and double-checkin’, triple-checkin’ I locked the door,” I confess. “Couldn’t take my time. ‘S that how it is for you, Rust?” I probe, tilting my head to the side, losing his eyes as quickly as I catch them. “You ever let yourself enjoy it? Let yourself want it—?”

“I don’t want it,” he snaps quietly.

“But your programmin’ says you do, right?” I point out, scrambling to hold onto the flaw in his argument. I search his face, my own bright, eager.

He quirks up a miraculous smile, and I myself burst into a wide grin. Still smiling—though, you’d have to admit, it’s such a strange sight, sort of gratifying, almost patronising—he shifts his weight between his feet, scratches at his nose with his pinkie, sniffs, takes a long drag of his dying cigarette. I know he must feel disjointed, though he doesn’t show it: he’s misstepped, and I’ve caught him. And how often does Rust Cohle misstep? I should’ve checked the news for a blue moon tonight. 

Interested, now, is he? Breathing quietly, rolling his jaw – he’s entertaining the competition I have goin’ up in my head. From the looks of the gentle smirk on his face, he’s enjoying it, too. 

“No,” he corrects with a dry husk to his voice. “No, I know what I want, and, when I think those things are necessary or useful, I know how to get them.”

In this type of context, I’d like to see him try. Though, he is an undeniably attractive man. Thick, solid all the way through, like a rich wood. But he’s got these brittle eyes: fraying.

He continues: “Most of the time, though, what we want is born out of dangerous feelings, like rage or lust. Ruminating on the consequences of those potential actions seems to me the more sensible thing to do than to just leave it and find out.” I sniff. “Desire is inescapable for most, including the sexual kind. I feel it—“ he eyes how I wriggle beneath my skin, “—you feel it. But it can be resisted. You’re lettin’ it dictate what you do ‘n’ say. If I do to you what you want me to, have you thought about how it might affect things down the line? Tomorrow, next week, next month—?”

“Yes,” I hiss, a little too emotionally, such that a gleam of satisfaction crosses his grey eyes at the strain and stretch of my voice. Christ. Desperate much?

I take several seconds to think before allowing myself to speak again, all while staring at him straight on and refusing to look away: I’d just die if I let him catch me out. “Well, how can you be sure of the fallout? How do you know the good won’t outweigh the bad? Not “you” specifically, but, also, yeah, “you” specifically. I can think about something morally ambiguous, and I can evaluate the potential consequences, and, just as you are satisfied to observe, I will decide to follow through with this somethin’ and deal with what I gotta deal.”

He sighs. “Because decisions define a person?” 

I tuck my hair tight behind my ears. “Yes.”

And he hums – that beautiful noise resonates in my stomach before sinking down there, low, its weight a comfort. “I agree with you in that respect,” he admits. 

A laugh erupts out of me like the sputter of an engine. Luckily, I’m easy to laughter – it’s like me, as is my genuine grin. “Rust Cohle’s agreein’ with me on somethin’?—Call the police!” 

“We are the police,” he replies smartly, watching me snort and smile and grow flushed in the face. I feel very grateful to that beer – at least my giddiness can be blamed on the effects of alcohol and save me from embarrassment.  

As I simmer down, he looks away, adds, “I agree to an extent. People all think that they’re one-of-a-kind. That they make these—amazing decisions. They speak and do and walk and play and work and fuck and eventually die – all of ‘em.”

“You’re part of the people,” I argue.  

He hums, nodding in acceptance. “Yes.”

“If a person acts due to their instinct, whether it’s succumbing to it or fighting against it, then isn’t man simply his programming?” He lowers his head. “You can be aware of it, and you can be a part of it, too. Who are you to deny yourself the good parts?”  

He fiddles with his cigarette, svelte fingers nimble and acute. I cross my legs, flex my hips; he notices. 

“Because of the consequences,” he replies, a soft whisper.  

I thought that everything meant fuck-all?

For someone who sees no meaning in life, he sure seems to spend a lot of time contemplating it. Here, I thought I’d have hot hands sliding all over me, gripping, spreading, pushing, but instead find myself defence in an unprecedented debate. 

Rust is breathing slower, deeper, almost unable, now, to look me in the eyes, even look at me in general, whereas, before, it had been a choice, whether that choice be conscious or unconscious. His cigarette burns weakly in his fingers, forgotten. The muscle in his jaw flexes, his expression hollow. 

My body buzzes with want, leaves me scrambling for breath like I’ve just run a race. I want. I want, I want, I want. The rough pads of his fingertips, the surest and most confident I’ll have ever known. Sharp tongue, quick and precise. Something about how he smells. All my compliments to pheromones – even in the heavy musk of the bar, I’d smelled him, ashy, warm, alive, and now it’s wreathing all around. Or maybe that’s just me – it’s like when you try to take someone’s pulse with your thumb, and all you’re feeling is your own heartbeat.

I want – my breath trembles with it.

“Rust,” I say softly. He shakes his head a little, looking away still, vulnerable like a wild animal. I sigh, gnawing at my lip. “I really want it. I—I’ve—it’s not just a rash decision,” I explain. “I’ve wanted it for a while, now.”

He shudders – I notice. “Since when?”

I huff out a sheepish laugh, fix my eyes on my restless hands. “You won’t remember it—”

“I will.”

His voice sounds clogged. It sobers me right up. 

“A year back,” I tell him. “You were working at the office—late, in the dark. You called me, and I asked you why, and you said—it was because you were tired and thinkin’.” I glance up to check if he’s maybe looking, but he’s not – he’s turned his head even further away. The soft, gentle curls of his hair tempt me. 

Blindly reaching for the bottle, securing it almost immediately, he finishes the rest of his beer, then sets it back down. 

“I—” he begins, scratching his nose, “—I was—tired.” He pauses to re-thicken his voice. “And—thinking—”

He doesn’t finish his sentence, but the both of us know what he said that night: Of you. Thinking of you—of me .  

My stomach flips, leaving me almost nauseous, just like it did when I first heard those words. At first, I thought I’d misheard, that I was so tired my mind was playing tricks on me. Then, I thought he was being cruel, or maybe he was drunk. Those two instances weren’t—aren’t—unlike him, but he never, ever calls to be mean or to be stupid. He’d been quiet and warm through the phone after that, a presence so thick I could’ve sworn he had his arms around me right then. I hadn’t slept well for a time, then, of course, and that made it all the more vivid. His voice had made me shiver all the way through as he told me he had to get back to work. 

When I saw him the next morning, I couldn’t look at him. It was the first time I couldn’t, not wouldn’t. It was also the first time I felt him paying attention to me.  

I shift, ask the question I’d wondered since that call: “Why?”

A pause. 

Then: “You brought me coffee that morning,” he explains softly, speaking to the wall opposite. “I was—looking at the mug on my desk – it was yours. Green one you like to use.” He sniffs. “And…” He teeters on the precipice of that word but does not finish the thought. 

Hmm. That’s something to think about. Rust Cohle thinking about me and not picking apart why and why he shouldn’t be. It had been a mindless enough gesture – it’s not unheard of me to be makin’ coffee for other people in the office, not because I have to but because I like to. For the people I can stand, that is: Johansson always, and him for me; Cathleen;   Marty, when I’m not pissed off at him; and Rust, from time to time. Everybody knows that green mug is mine, though – nobody touches it, not even the boss. Rust reads far too much into things. Most of the time, he’s dead-on. I should’ve known from the moment I placed that coffee on his desk, from the sharpening of his eyes (that did not spare me a glance) that lingered on my lingering hand on his table, that he knew. Figured out something I hadn’t even quite figured out myself. Not until later that night. 

I wonder if he’s ever thought of me when fucking his own hand. I wonder if he thinks about me sometimes, when he can’t sleep, in between horror stories and brutal blows and uncovering the secret truths of the universe. I do, sometimes. 

When I push myself back to my feet, stand up, Rust’s attention springs back, and he watches me, looks at me.

Quietly, I relish in the satisfaction of his stare, crossing on light feet to toss my empty beer bottle in the bin. He steps aside to let me open the cupboard under the sink, his hand curled in a loose fist by his side. I’m not trying to tease him – I grant him the space he so clearly needs, retreating about five paces back, leaning slightly myself against the counter. 

I could say anything right now, no matter how insane, and he’d treat it with total and utter respect. I could reveal to him the reaction my body has to seeing his fingers fiddle like that with his cigarette, and he’d manage to identify the cogs and wheels in what, when you step back, actually turns out to be a hidden machine. Christ, I could probably remove all of my clothes, stand naked in front of him, and he’d look on as one would look on at a piece of evidence at work. Going over the details, once, twice, scribbling it all down in that big, leather ledger. 

Here’s what I think: he needs it. For all his talk about how unoriginal, how predictable mammals are at the end of things, he probably knows that himself. The tension in his jaw, the perpetual tightness of breath. That clipped way of talking he has, wound so tight around himself, like a compressed spring fighting its natural urge to let go.  

I could make him let go. Maybe. I wish he’d let me try. It’s nothing possessive, really: wanting to be the one to unravel his tightly coiled body. Just—the release of seeing him be. No thinking in particular – just being.

He is still, however, uncommonly mute, avoiding my eyes.

I sigh. I ask him tentatively, “You think I ought’a be ashamed o’ myself?” biting down on the fleshy inside of my cheek.  

“No,” he contradicts.

“But—you think I should be findin’ my fun elsewhere, with—some other guy?”  

He sort of pins his hands behind his back, pressing his weight against them there at the edge of the sink. He looks a lot taller from this angle. “I think there’s a lotta fellas stumblin’ over themselves to be with a girl like you.”

“Maybe,” I scoff, “but my reptilian brain don’t want none of ‘em.“ I blush warmly when I glance up and he’s there watching me, though there’s no bashfulness at all on his side of it. 

I expect him to maybe dart his eyes away again, like he does, and then walk me to the door, maybe even to the car if I haven’t offended him too badly, and then call it a night. I could stuff it in; I can compartmentalise. Monday would carry on as it always does, except now without the wondering and the yearning and the delusion. Did he have to be so good-looking? His cheap, wrinkled shirt sleeves rolled up to his elbows—like they are now—and those lean forearms braced up on the table, caging in the neatly set-out notes scrawled up in his ledger, like they have mind to escape. And he’s—beautiful. He’s tall. Out-of-place sort of tall, where he has this bend to his neck, sometimes, as to not draw attention to himself. Other times, though, he stands to full height, regal, elegant, authoritative, like when he comes out o’ the box.

He sees into people. He feels it all so deeply.  

And he’s looking at me, seeing into me, deeply. His eyes are brittle like china pieced back together with store-bought glue. The low light casts long shadows down his neck and harsh face. 

“Come here to me, Rust,” I say to him, beckoning him over with a tilt of my head. To my surprise, he does. He does immediately, peeling himself off the counter, eyes drifting somewhere just behind me as if disinterested.

He stubs his cigarette out on an old plate, abandons it there officially, before stepping slowly towards me, feet never dragging, dodging my searching eyes like the plague.

Hmm. Maybe I made a good argument “for” to his “against”. Or maybe he was never “against” to begin with. I’ll watch him carefully tomorrow and see if there was anything I missed.

I reach up and touch his face gently. I used to do this with my husband before he passed, and he’d close his eyes and whisper my name and lean into the touch, tender, loving – my fingers shake slightly with the memory. Rust Cohle does none of that, because he is nothing like my husband. He’s perfectly rigid against my fingertips; his stare flits briefly up right into my soul, his mouth pressed in a hard line. Everything about him is so sharp. The ridge of his cheekbones, the defiant slant of his nose. The lean muscle of his arms and shoulders, slightly sinewy just beneath the skin. 

But when I brush my thumbs up along his eyebrows, easing the sharp line between them, he sighs and closes his eyes, neck bowing down, still as stiff as before, just—different. A small gap, an opening, to that locked room of his upstairs.  

“Rust,” I whisper, nose brushing his. He hums again, lowly, eyes shut. “What do you think of us havin’ sex?”

“Sex,“ he replies softly, “is the illusion of connection constituted by the release of a mess of happy hormones, simply by touching all the right places—and nothin’ more.”

I hum and watch the look on his face grow brittle as our breaths mingle closely. God, he’s so near to me that my head swings in a bout of lightheadedness, heady, vision centring in on him and only him, such that I wouldn’t know if this place was burning down all around, even if the flames started eating us alive.  

“I think you’re full o’ shit, Rusty. Know how I know that?”

He sighs shakily. “How?” It’s like the word is dragged right from the pit of his chest, barely a breath to show for the effort of it.

“I can feel you against my leg.” 

He swallows thickly, but he does not blush, and he does not open his eyes. And, contrary to what he might seem, Rust is not cold like stone. When my fingers grow more confident, when they trace and drag lightly along the line of his cheeks, he is warm there. His pulse, when I find it, exists and is hot and slightly erratic, a fact that leaves my mouth dry and open. I can feel the inflexion of his throat as he swallows again, the shift of the skin and the rhythm of his heartbeat, the gentle influence of his breathing. 

I wait for him to say something, but he doesn’t. So, I ask him, “Can I kiss you?” ever so gently. 

Softer still, he replies, “Yes,” with that slight Southern whistle of his, barely moving. 

Give me strength. Give me strength. 

That look on his face is filling me with a delicious, vibrating power. As I stretch my neck up to brush a kiss against the corner of his mouth, my eyes are open and watching him, charting him: Rust breathes strongly out of his nose, eyes still determinedly shut, like he’s absent and meditating. He is not tough as stone – parts of him are soft. He barely returns the kiss, but, as far as my brain processes, his lips are soft. Hesitant, maybe. 

Then, these soft lips part, and he is sucking in a hot, shuddering breath, capturing me in a deep kiss, as if to breathe all of me in, a strong hand threading through my hair. It hurts a little at first – a small noise escapes my throat at the slight shoots of pain tugging at the roots – but Rust doesn’t seem to notice. Not at first. No, he’s still breathing me in. His lips are dry, rough, a push and tug, a twist, and he’s kissing like a punch, knocking the breath right out of my lungs. Whatever oxygen I manage to hold onto is sucked out of me promptly. 

I whine, my body going all slack and tired as he smooths the hair out of my face, palms dragging clean back across my cheeks. Those hands cradle the back of my head, making it impossible to keep my eyes open.

Content, I sigh, eyes succumbing to the sensation and falling shut. The last thing I see is his own eyes slipping open to look at my face.

Boy, he’s a good kisser. Must be that lizard brain he has such a distaste for.

My fingers blindly reach and fumble at his belt, hooking into the waist, pulling him flush against me. Rust must forget what he’s doing for a moment, and he pauses where he is, in limbo, eyes far away. When I begin to unthread his belt from its quietly clinking buckle, he goes stiff again, blinks rapidly before perceiving me. 

Holy shit, he’s gorgeous.

His hands hover over my shoulders, not quite committed to the contact. 

He’s seeing me—really seeing me—as I unzip his trousers and spit crudely into my palm and curl around the length of him, warm, tight. I begin to understand the gentle throb and strain he feels, a delightful thrill running rapid all through my insides. He feels deliciously alive. 

But then he turns his head away, neck straining up, breath choked back in his throat. His hands come away, raised, it looks like, as if trying to seem non-confrontational, trying to come away unscathed from a bad situation. 

My stomach burns with desire. “Let yourself like it, Rust,” I mumble against his cheek. “Are you here with me?” 

I can feel him swallow.

“Yes,” he responds. I guide his face to me, stroking his cock confidently once, twice, as encouragement, maybe. Temptation. Whatever you want to call it. My mouth waters, my head goes airy, when I feel his sex twitch in my embrace. 

“Kiss me again, then.” 

And he does. Brows furrowed as if in pain, he does, with the tip of his nose dragging and pressing into my cheek. He kisses me sweetly once, then again, and then pants down hotly into my mouth, hovering there before sliding his tongue deep inside, close, smooth. 

I let myself love it. I let myself let go with every kiss he blesses me with, growing looser and easier and lighter each second. 

The weight of him in my hand inspires a beautiful urge to have him lay down and let me feel every part of his body. Even though his hips stutter, he doesn’t buck up into my fist, doesn’t whine, doesn’t moan, doesn’t curse. Not yet. He just breathes and breathes, and kisses me and kisses me, like it’s all he was set on Earth to do. All he’s allowing himself to do.

Desperate, perhaps, my thighs are pressed against his, feeling unnaturally weak and warm. The throb between my legs coincides with my heart rushing in my ears, a steady ache, impatient. Part of me wants to drag this out as long as possible, because what if this never happens again?—and another part wants to push him inside me already, have him fill me up, fuck me stupid. 

This thought stuffs me up to the brim, like cotton punched down into a pillowcase. I whine shallowly and try to slot his thigh between my own. 

A switch in his brain must flick on. 

It’s like he’s inside my head, like he’s in on my desperation, like he can see and feel every sinful image and thought circulating my alighted brain. He knows it all so well, such that he uses his hips to press us firmly against the counter, spreads my legs with the nudge of his foot between mine, and immediately pushes the rough pads of his fingers right where I need it, through the fabric of my skirt, letting me grind myself against him, hips and all. He circles there generously. I can feel my need dripping from me. He can too, no doubt. 

I sigh, he breathes. I gasp, he breathes. My eyes flutter open and shut, but he looks on, eyes half-lidded but stare immovable. 

He then lifts his knee to place against my cunt. 

“That feels good, don’t it?” he says gently, rocking me over his knee up and down, back and forth, fingers digging into the soft skin of my hips.

My legs widen. When I gasp out weakly, he raises his brow and scans my face, like he had predicted the shaky, wordless nod that I offer to him too late in return. 

“Did you want it like this, girl?” His voice is low, intimate, a hit of something just shy of addictive. “Or did you want somethin’ else, too?” 

He kisses the hollow of my neck. 

His other hand grips at my ass, up my skirt, kneading the flesh there, manipulating it, and his fingers ghost my slit, spreading me around his knee. He fucks up into my hand. I slide my fingers through his hair, which is soft and warm like butter. 

Fuck him. Fuck him and his stupid, pretty curls. I’ve proved my point: regardless of whatever act he may try to put on afterwards, we’ll both know that Rust isn’t as numb as he wants to be, that I made him feel good, that I made him want me, and that he’s hot-blooded and thrumming with life. I can feel how alive he is . I hope he thinks of this again some time, whether by himself or surrounded by people. I hope it drives him a bit mad, remembering this. 

A hot, sharp breath fans out across my cheek, his mouth slotting back over mine, open, daring me. 

I rut against his knee, my fingers teasing the wet head of his cock. I look down between us, at my hand on him, with half a mind to drop onto my knees and make him cum down my throat.

Rust lets out a grunt and swallows hard again.  

Then, he gently grabs my wrist and pulls my hand out of his pants, leaving me dazed and confused. With nimble fingers, he unzips my skirt, pushing it over my hips and dragging his hands over my bare skin. He asks me, “You want the bed?”

I step out of the pool of fabric around my feet, slide my shoes off. “‘s not a bed.” 

I slide my fingers beneath his sweaty, white undershirt, feeling the taut muscle there, feeling the steady breaths that contradict his racing pulse. He holds my eyes, dipping slightly when I dip, tilting when I tilt. “Seems like one to me.”

How unlike him. 

A smile spreads over my face, and his pupils blow wide, dark, imploring. “You wait ‘n’ see what happens when the dust-mites turn up.” 

His eyes on me alone are enough to leave me breathless, chest caving in on itself. Of course, when he kisses me softly, it only makes things worse – his long fingers curl around the base of my throat, watching me watching him, and his other hand slides up under the hem of my blouse, palm spread over my bellybutton. 

I sigh, try not to squirm. 

“You want the bed?” he repeats, heavy, rough. I bite back a needy whine that sits at the back of my mouth. His fingertips press down slightly into my pulse, tightening my breathing. 

I nod. “Yeah.” 

Think of all the times I’ve sulked over his lack of eye contact with me. Was I annoying? Uninteresting? That, obviously, was an immature way of looking at things, definitely not improved by my distinct femininity undergoing some kind of unspoken disapproval by most I met on the job. This is the most present he has ever been in a moment with me around.

As he pulls himself away, steps back, his eyes are darting over my face, less like he’s judging me and more like he’s trying to find and memorise every detail. I do that, sometimes: if I pay well enough attention, it feels like I’m re-living the moment when remembering. 

His hands slot sensibly into his pockets as if his cock isn’t blushing and poking out of his fly right now, belt undone, hanging low about his narrow hips. 

Legs don’t fail me now. I slink out of the glowing kitchen and carry on to where the mattress lies in a dim, blue corner, the strange crucifix watching over, a long shadow cast over the empty wall upon which it hangs. He follows shortly behind me, his warmth radiating out onto my back. 

I pause and look out onto the darkness revealed behind the half-open slats of the floor-to-ceiling blinds that shield the room from the window to the outside world. 

Rust’s presence is intoxicating behind me. He smells like cigarette smoke, still, enticing. I’m trying to quit, but he makes it damn hard. His nose is just shy of my hair, his body so close to enveloping me into him – the prospect of it makes me shiver in delight. I must hallucinate his fingertips along my spine. 

I unbutton my blouse with slow fingers, then slide it off and undo my bra. 

His breathing is level and grounding by my ear as he comes close, sliding his strong, wide hand up my stomach, along my ribs, and cups under my soft breast. He rubs over my nipple in gentle circles before squeezing over me warmly. He then comes around to pinch the creamy tissue gentle between his fingers and thumb, closing his hot mouth over, drawing along his feverish tongue. I sigh, stroke his hair, let him press soft pecks and kisses to the curve of the soft flesh and to my sternum.

My fingers, cupped around the nape of his neck, dip under the collar, cool. This touch, for some reason, causes him to make some sort of breathless, pathetic noise against me. His eyes are half-shut. 

“Anything else philosophical y’wanna get out before we fuck?” I quip smartly (though, not feeling so smart altogether), hand placed innocently on his hip. 

He lifts his head, removes his hands from my body – he looks so tragically beautiful in this light. “You want me inside you?” he asks genuinely, seemingly aloof to the fact I’m naked in front of him, open and wanton and pressing my thighs together, his eyes never drifting from mine.

“What do you want, Rust?” I whisper. 

He seems to really think about it – he’s always thinking. Briefly, his eyes flit down to my mouth. Then, he looks away, scratches at his forehead. 

After a moment longer, he swallows thickly and tips his head down over to the bed, tells me, “Lie down on the mattress,” in a gentle, decisive tone. He’s so soft-spoken – it makes my toes curl. 

I do as told, transfixed by the dark shadow in his eyes, and sink down to sit and then recline back on his coarse mattress, coarse bedsheets, with my weight on my forearms and chin tilted up towards him. He watches me, tucking his thick cock back into his underwear.

Still fully dressed in his work attire, he takes a step forward, looming over me, powerful, assertive. Saliva pools in my mouth—again—as I play with the thought of him sitting heavy on my tongue with his stomach tight, shaking, hands in my hair, fucking down my throat. I would let him. Hell, I’d probably let him do anything he wanted to me at this point. 

Does he know that? Maybe. I don’t know.

As he reaches his hand out too smooth the hair out of my face, I try to figure it out, but I can’t – he seems too wrapped up in his own desire to be thinking anything at the moment. I feel a flicker of satisfaction jump up in the pit of my stomach. Or maybe that’s something else. 

“Lie back, girl,” he tells me. 

My cunt flexes. 

I thump onto my back, breathless. “Take off your shirt, Rust.” 

Without replying, he sinks down to his knees in front of me, my thighs. Instinctively, I prop myself up and watch him unbutton that wrinkled shirt all the way down, shrug it over his broad shoulders. I could fuck myself silly just over the thought of those shoulders, I remark inwardly. He tugs the wifebeater over his head, lean muscles catching the low light, strong, study, solid, and tosses the thing to the side thoughtlessly. My hands reach out to touch him, to feel him and know him. When my fingers press into his skin, glide up his neck and down over his chest, he sighs deeply. He then carefully removes my hands, urging me to sprawl down under him.

“Said lie back, didn’t I?” 

Rust doesn’t say another word before placing his large hands on my knees and easing them apart, lowering himself to press pecks and slow, open-mouthed kisses to my thighs, closer, closer, stroking my sensitive skin gently. I almost flinch at his every touch, like it burns. His face is awful serious, like he’s concentrating. I wriggle in anticipation, eager. 

“Rust,” I whisper purposelessly. He looks up, hums, searches my face for anything the matter. 

I watch on desperately, on the brink of feral distress. A sob clogs my throat as he kisses my fluttering stomach, ducking his head down and curling his forearms, his hands, around my thighs. The dark stamp of his bone-bird tattoo curls over his arm. I realise he is waiting for my attention to return to him, his eyes patient but glazed over with something cardinal. Hungry.

“Can—?”

“Yes.” 

He hums. And then he breathes hotly over my underwear before pressing his nose right there into the damp fabric, inhaling my scent there. I whimper at the pressure he applies with the strong bridge of his nose, at the wetness of his open mouth against me. He breathes heavily into me, groaning slightly beneath it all – I can’t tell past the thrumming of my heart in my ears.  

“Rust,” I whisper again, my shoulder straining with the task of keeping me up and looking down at the sight of his sweet head buried between my glistening thighs.   

“Lie back.”  

He kisses me through my underwear, dutifully kneading the flesh of my hips, my inner thighs.

I thump back against the mattress, helpless, keening into his touch as this grey man roughly tugs my underwear down, down, all the way down, until they’re clean off my body, long gone, and then returns his nose to the cleft of my pussy, unseaming me with his tongue, opening me up, breathing me in. It’s enough to draw a shallow, hoarse cry from me. He doesn’t say anything, and I can’t say anything, biting down on my white knuckles.

Rust licks warm over my clit, sucking gently on the bud of nerves (then not so gently), before sliding down, down through my very centre.

Whining breathily, the twist in my stomach tightens and spasms as he presses my hips and thighs right down against the mattress, slow, strong, giving me time to notice it, realise it, give into it, deny the natural instinct to curl my limbs tight all over his face, his neck, his mouth. 

Holy fuck. Rust Cohle has his face buried between my legs right now. I have Rust Cohle’s tongue pushing deep into my cunt – he sighs softly, a sound with its own powerful gravity a black hole to envelop me in, and grinds his hips against the edge of the mattress for a split second, just once. My mind pulses with the thought of making him cum. I wonder if he feels the same hunger. 

Then, he’s sinking his long, elegant fingers into me, one, then two, and just the knowledge that those fingers belong to him makes my thighs quiver and shake, makes me sigh again. Thick, confident, they curl inside, slow like an experiment, right up to the knuckle. When he taps up against me, when I squeal and crimp up into his hold, he returns himself to mouth dutifully over my clit.  My hand threads itself into his hair, holding him steady – I offer a breathless moan when his grip across my hips loosen, an invitation to begin rolling myself up over his pretty face. He pulls his fingers out of me, wet and hot, and encourages my thighs upon his beautiful shoulders, clinging onto them urgently. He shudders a little, I think, when I lock them firmly around his head and grind myself shamelessly against his mouth, his nose. He moves his jaw, his face, in tandem.

I cum after a while like that, because how can I not? The searing buzz reaches a roiling static.

I go loose, moaning softly, melted down flat, and stroke fuzzy fingers through Rust’s pretty hair as he sucks my clit still, as he inhales again and sighs again, reduced to something primitive and needy.

Thick, my heartbeat throbs and echoes like a drum in my skull, threatening. I feel so full that I could mistake the beat of pleasure for nausea pressing in my throat. It was silly to think that this could all be satisfied just from one time. My eyes closed, Rust’s light touch over my abdomen, up to my throat, is acute and heightened, like a million tiny, individual sparks. His fingers fumble over my jaw, then press lightly over my pulse. 

He retreats just as I’m playing with the hairs at the nape of his neck, coming to stand to full height above me, unthreading his belt from his trousers with quiet, precise hands. I press my shaking thighs together, watching him breathe strongly through his nose, trying to remain somewhat respectable in the presence of the darkening look in his eyes that is locked down on my body.

He pauses, wipes some shine from his nose. Before he can continue with whatever, I find myself sitting up on my knees, grabbing his hips hard enough to bruise all pretty and purple, shoving the trousers down to his knees, and palming him through his boxers. 

We don’t have to say anything. He just watches me passively, pushing my hair back again, behind my ears, my shoulders, rolling my earlobe softly between his fingertips.

I remove his underwear, take him into my mouth, thick and long and wanting; he sighs, holds my head with two steady hands.

When was the last time someone helped him like this? I honestly couldn’t have told you, even given a loose theory, prior to this moment: Rust is simultaneously the hottest and most non-sexual being I’ve ever come across in my life. He just happens to be beautiful; he just happens to inspire these sort of feelings choking up inside me. No overarching intention that he’ll ever admit to, no vanity, no preening. So strict to himself, so tight, like a piston, something that fights and pushes and hurts.

So, as I hold him firmly and suck at the head of his blushing cock, kissing him, I watch his face, savour the tart taste of him, and press my thighs together: he’s becoming warmer, looser.

Still, as much as I want him, I know he’s wanted me. However vague he tells it, he’s wanted me. Good Lord, he looks even more stressed now, somehow, than when we had just been talkin’. Hands gently cradling my skull, he tilts his head away, watches the cross on the wall, as he succumbs to it, maybe, and begins to gently, languidly fuck my face. I tuck a hand between my thighs, and I love him, my other with the fingers digging into his hip, his ass. If I’m lucky, maybe it’ll leave some sort of mark, just to remind him I was here, so that, when he’s being all indifferent again, with his eyes lowered to the floor as he shares a report with me at my prim, little desk, we’ll both know that we were once in this room together, here like this.

Rust breathes and breathes, almost mechanically, and slides his cock further into my mouth. The weight of him in there drives me half-insane. If I could consume him, envelop him, and we could be one and the same, I’d readily allow it. When he sinks deeper still down my throat, I sigh around him, rub myself the way I like.

His eyes are determinedly shut, like some part of him refuses to be here. 

Before I can make him cum, he shakes his head and tugs my hair back a little bit, mumbling for me to stop and sit away. 

For all his mouthiness just a half hour ago, would you look at him now?—Rust Cohle, plundered by the human sensation of speechlessness. I’ve never seen him out of his element before. When he comes down and cages me with his body, hot skin flush against hot skin, I don’t mean that in a bad sense. Shit, he’s far from it. But there’s nothing to say. Nothing of note, nothing to pick apart, no deeper meaning, no theory. Just an itch that has to be scratched. He wants, he is, and it’s heaven to see. 

In the dark, he sinks in to me as he is, eliciting from me a soft moan that curls over the shell of his ear. I have to bite down on his shoulder when comes the push, the stretch, the sink, the comfort of him inside. I curl my legs around his waist and grab at his ass, willing him deeper still. He shudders silently over me, thick ripples of pleasure rolling through his lean body.

I curse, but I’m sure it barely registers with him. 

His head lifts and his eyes clamp shut as he braces an arm against the wall, lifting one of my legs up over his hip and fucking into me deeper, slipping out and in, and again, and again. I know what I’d see if I took a look down, saw his cock pumping into me, but I can hardly do anything but buck my hips up to meet his effort, my stomach stuttering with that building pressure, hands gripping desperately around his neck and shoulders. 

Though, I’m not even sure it is effort that’s driving him. 

I mumble into his shoulder, dumb, focussing on the feel and press of him in my belly. I doubt he’s really aware of anything more than the sensation of it, evident from the small grunt that passes his lips as he fucks deep in me. His stomach presses heavier down onto mine, crushing a delicious pressure there, teasing out a long, breathy whimper. He snakes an arm around my hips, pushes his free hand to the back of my knee, tilting my legs back a little more, and then pulls me wider. Tight, he moves me how he wants me, my flesh dipping and carving, fucking himself raw with me, with my hot cunt. His mouth moves over mine, not kissing me, not speaking, just there, present, hot, panting. He doesn’t open his eyes, so I close mine, and I breathe.

Rust stutters and cums and spills over into me with a grunt. He pants sharply, harshly, rhythmically into my mouth, tense again, and then he collapses over my body, and he lays there. I lay there too, burning on the far inside. 

I think he only really remembers I’m there when I shift under him.

His eyelashes brush against my cheek. “Sorry,” he murmurs, but the sound of his voice scrapes directly against my brain with the shock of a flesh-wound. 

I assume he’s referring to the thick cum that I can feel leaking out of me now. He shifts his hips, adjusting himself in the grip of my cunt. My fingers wrap around his arms, squeeze as I feel him easing out. 

“It’s okay,” I reply. 

He glances down between us and guides himself out with a lewd noise, swallowing hard. I shiver. 

Quiet, sedated, he shrugs his trousers, his underwear, off of his ankles, slipping the bedsheet over both our naked selves. His hand spreads and flattens warm over my abdomen, feeling the gentle swell and sink of the breaths I take and release.

#true detective #rust cohle #marty hart #rust cohle x reader #rust cohle x reader smut #okay cool this is a bit niche hope you liked it #this show made me question my life's purpose #the first season at least #thanks matthew mcconaughey #anybody else here like Fiona apple or what

[iwritefandomimagines]

REGRET — COOPER HOWARD/JOHN HANCOCK

masterlist

part one | part three [coming soon]

pairing: new bf!cooper howard/the ghoul x reader, ex-bf!john hancock x reader

description: you finally head to goodneighbor for a well earned rest… but hancock’s jealousy (and cooper’s possessiveness) might get in the way of that.

warnings: angst, swearing, jealous!hancock this time as well as jealous coop when you talk to him hehe.

author’s note: ok so i didn’t want hancock to be an ass (like that’s my og ghoul bf🤝) so he’s less of a prick than initially intended while cooper is… well… himself. but i hope u enjoy <3 part one linked above and smutty pt.3 coming soooon

———

“Ya sure you’re alright with this, sweetheart?”

Cooper calling you sweetheart had once ignited within you a combination of fear and excitement, never quite knowing whether he was doing so to tease you or with some semblance of affection.

Now, though, it spread warmth throughout your body — a sense of comfort knowing that he cared about you, with sweetheart being just one amongst a myriad other terms of endearment he used for you.

“‘S okay, Coop,” you tightened your grip on his arm where yours curled around it, “I got you, I’ll be fine.”

He hummed, seeming satisfied with your response as he leaned to press a kiss to your forehead, “If he so much as—,”

“He’s not gonna do anything, good or bad,” you shook your head, “He’ll probably just play the hospitable mayor and pretend he don’t know me, if anything.”

Cooper looked down at you now, trying hard to decipher your emotions.

You could tell, even after days of trying to reassure him, that he still had some fear you’d abandon him to return to a life in Goodneighbor once you saw Hancock again.

You leaned in a little closer, head resting on his shoulder as you made your way towards The Third Rail, heaving in a deep sigh at the familiar warmth it brought you.

You fought hard to ignore the stares coming your way, or the mumblings of Hancock’s men as they nodded for you to head on down.

“Alright, darlin’,” Cooper cooed, leading you to the bar, “What’dya want?”

Immediately upon replying (a bourbon, as always) you felt a shadow of a figure appear at your other side, as if he’d had a radar set for your arrival.

Cooper seemed uncharacteristically unaware for a moment as he busied himself ordering from Charlie, all while your former lover’s breath fanned over your neck.

“Well I never,” god, just hearing his voice again made your throat dry up… Even more so when you turned and saw his pained expression, “Didn’t count on ever seeing you here again. Especially not with company.”

The way he spat the last word made you shiver, unused to hearing him speak so harshly to you.

“We’ll be out of here in a few days— we just had a hell of a week,” you swallowed thickly, avoiding catching his intense gaze with yours, “I’m sorry, we shouldn’t have—,”

It was now that your travelling companion noticed the other ghoul at your side, a snide grin on his face, “Well fuck me, didn’t take ya long did it?”

Before you looked at him you’d worried this was directed at you — that he thought somehow Hancock’s presence beside you had been invited.

But one glance saw his steely gaze fixed on the man before him, simultaneously threatening as well as mocking.

“Long time no see, Mayor. My sweet lil Y/N over here told me you’d been oh so hospitable last time she was here,” his hand fell to your waist possessively, watching Hancock’s eyes follow the action, “So we’re crashing at the Rexford for a couple nights if it ain’t no trouble.”

Hancock scratched the back of his neck, contemplating how to respond.

“We can leave if you want, John,” you choked on your words as you realised your error, “Mayor.”

“‘S fine, doll,” he bit, forcing a smile for you as he glared across at Cooper, “Welcome as long as you need. Can I speak to you alone for a minute though? Won’t keep ya long.”

You looked over at Cooper, not to seek permission but just to see how the request had gone down with him.

He was less than impressed.

“Is that a good idea?” you whispered shyly, fiddling with your fingers as you eyed the floor.

“Why wouldn’t it be, sunshine?” Cooper’s teasing seemed to have extended to be at your expense now too, and though you knew it was probably just 200 odd years of loneliness impairing his filter — you had to fight back the urge to roll your eyes, “‘S okay. We’ve got a hotel room to ourselves tonight, can’t keep you to myself the whole evening, can I? Much as I can’t wait to get you alone.”

You watched Hancock kiss his teeth — he knew Cooper was just trying to get a rise out of him, but it was certainly fucking working.

He chose to ignore him.

“C’mon, darlin’. Just a minute’s all I need.”

You sighed, “One minute.”

You followed him out of the room, cautious of the privacy you were being afforded as you turned to send Cooper a shy smile.

“How long’d it take you to find him, huh?” his voice wasn’t accusatory, he just sounded sad, “I ain’t trying to start a fight, I just hoped if I saw you again we might make things right. Didn’t expect you to be with someone else.”

You scoffed, “John, you ended things between us and it really fuckin’ hurt. I’m not sure you really get to be jealous or hopeful or whatever this is.”

“I made a mistake, sunshine,” he stepped towards you, “Been layin’ off the chems a little more since you left and I’ve been seeing straighter. I missed you.”

You gulped, feeling bile rise up your throat at his words.

Months ago, you’d most likely have jumped straight into his arms and forgiven him.

Now, it pricked it your heart in a totally different way. While it comforted you to know he’d made a change since losing you, it hurt that he couldn’t have done it sooner.

Besides, you were finally happy again now — Cooper made you happy.

“It’s a little late for that, don’tcha think?” you pouted, “And I know you’re more mad ‘cause he’s a ghoul when that’s like half the reason you decided we couldn’t be together.”

“I just thought— well, think, you deserve better,” Hancock frowned, “I’m just surprised.”

You sighed, “C’mon, don’t condescend me because you’re jealous.”

“I’m not condescending you,” he suddenly looked irritated more than sad as he had before, “You’re travelling around with a fuckin’ bounty hunter who’s bad news when you were—we were happy.”

“I’m happy with my fuckin’ bounty hunter, too,” your fingers made air-quotes as you snapped at him, “Can I remind you again who ended things here?”

“Alright, you’re right. I’m being jealous, but you can’t blame me,” he sighed defeatedly, closing his eyes for a moment contemplatively, “I’m really struggling since I’ve been cuttin’ down on the chems and—,”

You laughed bitterly, “Oh so you only miss me ‘cause you need something else to fixate on?”

“Low blow, huh,” he huffed, “You were the best thing that ever happened to me, sweetheart. I miss you ‘cause you’re you. Just got a clearer mind so can’t do anything to keep you off it now.”

“John…” he was stood closer to you now, and you were trembling under his close gaze, “I’m sorry—you broke my heart for no real reason and this is just—,”

“I’m sorry for treatin’ you like you can’t make your own decisions and— well, I fucked up. I regret it more than I’ve ever regretted anything,” he chuckled at his own words, “And I’ve done a whooole lot worth regretting.”

He drew in a sharp breath as you stayed silent for a moment, waiting for some kind of response that he never received.

You stood silently, biting your lip as you tried to calm your unsteady heartbeat with deep breaths.

He unfolded his arms, raising goosebumps on your skin as his hand rested on your forearm, “Look, Y/N, I ain’t gonna do anything you don’t want, I just had to see if there was any hope—he ain’t just any ghoul, I just don’t wanna see you with the wrong people.”

Before you could reply, you heard a kerfuffle outside, low grumblings of “you can’t go in there” and “wait outside” punctuated by the door swinging open to reveal Cooper.

“The only wrong person for Y/N right now is you, Mayor, so if I were you I’d watch where your hand’s going damn carefully.”

If looks could kill, Goodneighbor would’ve been mayorless in that moment.

Hancock didn’t retract his hand though, only raising his other one to dismiss his men, “Heh, you’ve made a lapdog out of the big bad bounty huntin’ ghoul I see, sweetheart.”

You watched Cooper’s hand rest on his gun at his side, staring at him a wide-eyed.

You knew he wasn’t stupid enough to shoot the mayor and that he was merely trying to threaten him, but it panicked you all the same.

“This here might be your town, but that there is my girl,” okay, his possessiveness could be really hot, “And if ya think I’m gonna let you sweet talk her after breakin’ her pretty little heart? Well, them chems really done fucked up your brain.”

The mayor shook his head, “Oh you’ve made that quite clear, but Y/N’s a big girl and can make her own damn decisions,” he glanced over at you now, “Me and you were happy before I went ‘n’ screwed things up, you can’t blame a man for trying.”

“Well, your mission failed,” Cooper pouted teasingly as he sauntered to your side and hooked your waist to pull you in close to him.

“Oh, ‘m sure you’ve had plenty of them, cowboy,” Hancock laughed through gritted teeth, sad eyes watching you lean into your new partner’s side, “Well, we had some good times sunshine, but I can see you‘ve moved on ‘n’ it looks like I can’t do anything about that.”

You sent him a small smile, looking up at Cooper for a moment to find him watching carefully for your response.

“I’m sorry, John,” you frowned, contemplating reaching out to hug him in a tactile show of forgiveness, “You’re right, things have changed. But that don’t mean our time together meant nothing to me.”

He smiled sadly at you, eyes briefly flickering to send daggers in Cooper’s direction.

You continued, “And I hope us being here don’t cause any trouble now. I’m happy, ‘nd I want you to be as well. We’ll, uh, see you around?”

“I’m glad you’re happy, really,” Hancock cooed, “Even if it’s with him. So yeah, I’ll see you around, gorgeous. Stay safe.”

“You don’t think I can keep her safe?” Cooper challenged, hand on his hip again as he snarled at him.

Hancock scoffed, “For someone so certain she doesn’t want me anymore, you sure are determined to make this a pissing contest, aren’t you?”

“C’mon, this is ridiculous,” you huffed, “I’m right here, for fucks sake. Right now I just need a drink, so if you guys are gonna carry on like this I’ll just go get one on my own, I guess.”

Hancock heaved in a deep sigh, itching for a hit of Jet given all the tension this conversation had left lingering in the room.

He didn’t want to fight over you like a possession, and he knew that really Cooper didn’t either.

“‘M sorry, Y/N,” he stepped back, turning to walk away, “Go on. I’ll see you soon.”

“Wouldn’t count on it,” Cooper hummed, and you nudged his side at the continued warpath he seemed to be on, “Now c’mon sweetheart, we got a hotel room to get to.”

———

ok so this ended with cooper pissing you off in order to make way for makeup sex in part 3 basically hehe. im not sure how i feel so will probs come back to edit but i hope you enjoyed!!! feel free to request more… ive got a fluffy hancock fic almost finished too <3 in the meantime here’s my masterlist. x

#john hancock #john hancock x sole survivor #john hancock imagine #john hancock x reader #cooper howard x reader #cooper howard #cooper howard imagine #the ghoul #fallout #fallout imagines #the ghoul imagine

[gogogodzilla]

day 19, 69ing

john hancock x reader warnings: nsfw 18+, drug use, sex while high, teasing, dirty talk, fingering, hancock calls reader sunshine kinktober ☠︎︎ main masterlist ☠︎︎ read on ao3

To Hancock, getting high was second nature. He was always popping one chem or another on your travels. You didn’t mind. Whatever he had to do to get through the day.

You ventured through the gritty streets of Goodneighbor, looking for your friend. You had a surprise for him, after all. The raucous sounds of the Third Rail on a Saturday night graced your ears, and you found yourself being pulled there. 

You nodded to the security guard and descended the steps. Smooth jazz and the low murmur of voices greeted you as you entered the bar. A grin fought itself onto your features as you spotted, through the cigarette smoke and lively conversations of the patrons, your favorite Mayor seated at the bar, talking to Whitechapel Charlie. 

You sidled up next to him, leaning on the bar, nodding to Charlie as you sat. “Room for one more?” 

“Look who decided to finally show up,” Hancock drawled, pushing his tricorn hat back to let his eyes rake over your form.

“The super mutants trying to kill me didn’t seem to care that I had a date tonight,” you retorted, chuckling a little at your joke. 

You and Hancock weren’t exactly together, but you couldn’t deny that you felt strongly toward him. The lingering glances and semi-sexual remarks while you were traveling were enough of an indication that Hancock liked you too. 

The usual grin on his face widened at your reply. He rubbed his chin, a mischievous glint in his eyes, “Date, huh?” 

You leaned into his space, emboldened by his gaze on yours. “Yeah, although it’s a little crowded in here,” you titled your head, glancing around the room and its various patrons. 

“Why don’t you and me get outta here, sunshine?” Hancock suggested as he slid from his stool and offered you an arm. 

You stood and took his arm, “Thought you’d never ask, mayor.” 

You were giddy as you made the short walk to the Old State House. While on your adventures out in the Commonwealth, you’d found a bottle of Day Tripper. It was popular back in your day for those attempting to escape the troubles of their everyday life, and you didn’t think that Hancock had ever tried it before. 

Fahrenheit nodded to both of you as you entered the old building from her usual place at the bottom of the spiral staircase. Her gaze danced between the two of you for a moment before Hancock led you up the stairs. 

You sauntered toward one of the couches in the middle of the room, and Hancock shut the double doors to his room behind him. Your heart rate picked up at the telltale sound of the lock clicking. You took your seat and patted the cushion next to you. 

He sat next to you, eyes dancing across your features. “There’s another reason why I was late,” you mentioned as he reclined and threw an arm over the couch. 

He hummed, turning his head to look at you. You rifled through your bag before your hands wrapped around the blue-green bottle. You pulled it out and handed it to him. 

He took it from you and raised an eyebrow as he read the label. It was white and covered with flowers. From what you’d heard about the effects, you assumed that the label was supposed to reflect how you felt while you were on it. 

“Where’d you find this?” 

“West Roxbury Station, out by University Point. I wasn’t lying about the super mutants trying to kill me,” you laughed, giving him a half-shrug. 

His mouth curved into a smile, “You’re somethin’ else, sunshine.” 

You inched closer toward him, your heart fluttering in your chest. “I thought we could try it together,” you divulged, biting the inside of your cheek. 

His grin grew wider, “Didn’t take you for the partying type.” 

“There’s a lot you don’t know about me,” you replied, coyly. 

Hancock kept his eyes on yours as he undid the orange top of the bottle and shook out two small pills into one of his hands. 

He picked up one pill, “Open up, sunshine,” he ordered, smirking. 

Your breathing hitched before you opened your mouth for him, allowing your tongue to stick out over your bottom lip. Hancock held out the pill for you pinched between his thumb and pointer finger. You met his gaze as you leaned forward and you wrapped your lips around his fingers. His thumb escaped your lips to cradle your chin and his pointer finger stayed trapped within the wet confines of your mouth. 

You were a little surprised at the boldness of your actions, but the thought was quickly replaced by much more obscene ones as you swallowed around Hancock’s finger and a soft growl escaped him. 

He retracted his hand and popped the remaining pill into his mouth. He reclined against the red cushions of the couch, waiting for the effects to kick in. Slowly, the world around you began to transform. Color intensified and became more vivid, time seemed to slow, and the air around you hummed with energy. 

Hancock chuckled as you looked around the room, “Welcome to my world. Ain’t it a trip?” 

A laugh bubbled in your throat, and your eyes met for just a moment. Warmness spread throughout your body like the heat from the good whiskey Charlie served on special occasions. Hancock’s eyes were half-closed and the corners of his mouth were turned up in a lazy grin. 

You watched as he slowly sat up and tugged off his coat, also feeling the warmth that felt like it was humming under your skin. His shirt shone like a beacon in the light of the nearby lantern in your drug-induced vision. It was like your limbs were moving on their own as they reached out and stroked the fabric on his bicep. 

His breathing hitched in his throat as your fingers trailed up and over his shoulder to the bare skin of his neck. Something inside you ignited as soon as your fingertips dragged over the column of his throat, and it felt like your entire being was being drawn toward him. 

You crawled toward him, settling yourself on his lap as you cradled his face in your hands. He chuckled as he gripped your thighs, keeping you still. 

“I… need to touch you,” you murmured as you leaned forward and nuzzled into the crook of his neck. It wasn’t enough. 

You moved your face upward, eyebrows furrowed. “Need to taste you,” you practically begged as your lips ghosted against his. 

He leaned forward, and your lips collided. Your movements were clumsy, the drug making your muscles uncooperative. Your senses were heightened, and you could taste a hint of the liquor Hancock had earlier on his tongue. You groaned against his lips, which were rough and marred against your own. You wondered if other parts of him tasted this good. 

You pulled away and a small string of saliva connected the two of you. You moved to press sloppy kisses along the column of his throat, letting your tongue drag over the skin there. Hancock’s hands wandered over your body, squeezing and kneading wherever you could. He probably would’ve ripped your vault suit off of you if his limbs were working properly. 

“Wanna taste you, sunshine,” he rasped out as he grabbed your hips and ground them against his hardened length. You whined at the sensation as arousal coursed through your veins. 

“Lay back,” you ordered, shoving his shoulder lightly. Hancock followed your orders as you stood on shaky legs. You slowly peeled off your vault suit, thankful for the zipper, and Hancock palmed himself as he watched you through lidded eyes. 

You tugged your underwear down and kicked them to the side. You were practically drooling at the sight of Hancock before you. His shirt was open, exposing his scarred chest to you. He had unbuttoned his pants and freed his cock from its confines. He slowly stroked himself as you neared. 

In your drug-induced haze, an idea struck you. You straddled Hancock’s face so you could easily lean down and take his cock in your mouth. You could both taste each other that way. 

His hands moved to grip your thighs as you hovered over him. His breath fanned against your core and you shuddered, rocking your hips slightly. 

“All for me,” Hancock breathed against you, a hint of astonishment in his voice. 

You nodded as you reached down and began to slowly stroke him. “Only for you,” you slurred, tongue heavy in your mouth. You were already drunk on the feeling of him. 

Your grip around his cock tightened as he took you in his mouth. Your thighs squeezed around him as he devoured you, swiping his tongue through your folds before moving to circle your clit. 

He bucked his hips, reminding you that you had a job to do. You pumped your hand slowly before swiping your thumb over the tip of his cock, gathering the precum dripping from there. 

Hancock groaned against your core as you stroked him, sending vibrations through your body. You rutted your hips against his face, chasing your high. 

Hancock dipped his tongue into your entrance, and you leaned forward, moaning. You swirled your tongue around his red-hued tip, and your eyes practically rolled in the back of your head from the taste of him. 

Hancock’s grip tightened on your thighs as he brought you even closer. Moans escaped him as you slowly bobbed your head and clenched around nothing. 

You hollowed your cheeks around him, taking him even deeper than before. Your movements became sloppy as you neared the precipice. Hancock’s mouth wasn’t like anything you’d ever experienced before, and coupled with the finger he slid inside you, your release was rapidly approaching. 

He quickly added another finger and pumped them inside you while he sucked on your clit. You moaned around his cock before relaxing your jaw to take all of him. 

Hancock’s tongue circled your clit once and then twice, and then you were coming undone above him. Pleasure wracked through your entire body in waves, and your thighs began to shake. Hancock continued his efforts, allowing you to ride out your high. 

He tensed under you before coming with a strangled groan. You pulled away and watched as white tendrils coated your hand. You continued to stroke him until pleasure veered into overstimulation and he tapped your thigh. 

You slowly slid off of him, both coming down from the high of your orgasm and the high from the drug. You giggled a little as you took his sash and cleaned him off. You didn’t expect your plan to work this well. 

“I’m glad we did that,” you whispered as you lay on his chest, listening to the steady rhythm of his heartbeat. 

Hancock chuckled, “I should party with you more often.”

#fallout 4 #fallout #john hancock #fo4 #sole survivor #john hancock x sole survivor #john hancock x reader #kinktober #no y/n #reader insert #kinktober 2023 #john hancock fo4 #john hancock fallout 4 #hancock x sole survivor #love that my 100th post is this one #john hancock smut

[luv4freddie]

Aerophobia (fear of flying)

Your fear of flying had kept you off a broom ever since first year, but dating Oliver Wood was bound to fix that. 575 words, fluffy mini story

“Please doll?”

You’d been very adamant about one thing in your time at Hogwarts, and it was that you would not be getting on a broom.

Your first year flying lessons had been a very unfortunate experience, with the amount of falling and bumping into other students you did it was a miracle they even let you finish the class.

And ever since then you’d sworn off getting on one of those cursed cleaning tools.

A relatively easy ban, until you ended up dating Oliver Wood— someone who might actually spend more time on his broom than on his feet.

One thing led to another, and now here you are, with your boyfriend giving you his pretty puppy eyes and a broom hovering next to him.

“I told you-”

“I know,” he says, familiar with your objections, “but your wonderful boyfriend is here and he’s an amazing flyer and he promises to not let you fall off.”

“He’s also talking in third person, which is weird,” you mumble.

Oliver laughs, but he recognizes that you’ve given up.

He holds the broom horizontally and lets you climb on, before climbing on behind you.

He’s reaching around you to hold his hands in front of you so that you’re trapped, his arms acting like the bumper rails you’ve seen at muggle bowling alleys.

“Relax,” he whispers, his breath tickling the shell of your ear.

“Just go before I change my mind.” You state, gritting your teeth in nervousness.

He lets out another chuckle but kicks off anyway, and you screw your eyes shut as a gust of wind hits you in the face.

The broom stabilizes in the air, and you wait to feel him take off zooming, but he never does.

You cautiously open one eye, squinting around at your surroundings.

You’re hovering about ten feet in the air— not moving.

“Ollie?” You have to speak up to be heard, as you’re too scared of shifting the broom to turn his way.

“Yes love?”

“Why aren’t we moving?”

“Do you want to?”

“I just thought you would.” You risk the small movement of shrugging your shoulders, and you can hear the smile in his voice when he speaks again.

“I’ll move, but you can’t close your eyes, deal?”

“I don’t know…”

He lifts one of his hands off the broom to offer his pinky to you, but you let out a squeal, leaning your back further into his chest.

“Oliver Wood you put your hand back on this broom right now!”

He laughs, “make the deal then.”

You let out a groan, still pushing further into him, and decide that anything is better than falling off the broom.

“Fine. Deal. I’m not moving my hand though.”

He places his hand back on the broom in front of you, at the same time placing a kiss on your cheekbone.

“Good answer.”

You brace for the broom to take off, clutching the handle tighter but keeping your part of the deal up— your eyes stay trained directly in front of you.

Oliver moves one hand further up and the broom gives a small lurch forward.

You hear him laugh at the squeal you let out, but you’re moving much slower and less aggressively than Oliver usually is on his broom, and your fear starts to drain as he continues to gently move the broom forward.

“Look, you can see the courtyard over there,” his voice is calm in your ears, and you excitedly look over.

“I see it! Look! Do you think that’s Fred and George?” You question, pointing to your left at two ant sized figures with red hair.

“Might be.” He hums, trying not to point out your sudden confidence as your hand moves again, pointing at something else.

Five minutes later and you’re back on solid ground, Oliver helping you off the broom with a satisfied grin on his face.

“That wasn’t so bad now, was it?” He teases.

“I guess not,” you concede, popping up to give him a kiss on the cheek.

“What’s that for?” He asks, although he’s already got a smug smile on his face.

“For taking such good care of me.”

He grabs your hand, interlacing your fingers and placing a sweet kiss on your knuckles while leading you back to the castle, his other hand holding the broom.

“I’ll always take care of you.”

#oliver wood drabble #oliver wood #oliver wood x reader #oliver wood x you #oliver wood x y/n #oliver wood scenarios #harry potter scenarios #oliver wood fluff #harry potter fluff #harry potter boys #golden trio era

[httpsclarye]

#NOTHING SERIOUS+!

You had no idea why you were so concerned about whether or not your relationship with Zoro was serious. You both were certainly merely supporting each other, especially in the midst of the ocean, where people crave tenderness. Until he shows how seriously he considers you.

Pairing: Roronoa Zoro x Reader

Word count: 2.5k

Warnings/tags: 18+ content, reader is a overthinker, sanji as best friend, swearing, (kinda) idiots in love, there’s some talking about relationships, eventual smut, like in the end, don’t expect too much, oral sex (f receiving), face-fucking, face-sitting.

Ao3: Nothing Serious

English is not my first language, sorry for any mistakes :) Enjoy!

“You'll see him tonight.”

You inhaled the cigarette smoke till your lungs burned. It wasn't the first, second, or third time Sanji had brought up the matter; you were tired. Leaning against the rail of the ship, smoke encircled the two of you.

“I have no idea what you're talking about.” You took another inhalation before giving the blonde's cigarette back. “Anyway, it's nothing serious, whatever you're thinking, I assure you.”

He snorted, and you could see he wasn't buying what you were saying. After years of working together at Baratie, Sanji was able to read you like a book. “Oh, please, darling, I believe that at this point only Luffy is unaware of what is happening between you two.”

“Again, it's nothing serious. He's only a friend.”

“No, darling, I'm your friend; Nami is your friend; he's…” He dropped the rest of his cigarette in the sea and began to head to the kitchen to prepare dinner, yet not before lingering at the door to give you a sidelong glance. “Zoro is a very complicated person, I'm just saying. I think he has something going on in his moss head. If you happen to want to keep doing this, be careful.”

You continue to wander the deck of the ship while mulling over the conversation until the sun eventually sets and darkness falls. It was nothing serious. Zoro was really easy to be around; there were no challenges when you were around him. He was additionally very hot. Nothing that had been going on between you two had anything to do with the fact that whenever you felt that your pirate life was getting to be too much, you would always flee to his embrace in the dead of night. Especially in the midst of the ocean, people crave tenderness. Zoro was simply there to help you. Nothing serious.

However, once the two of you have had enough sex, he embraces you and plays with your hair until you nod off. Or how he always tries his hardest to make sure you enjoy yourself as much as he does, despite his issues with feeling vulnerable when you're topping. Or how he took a mattress so sex wouldn't be uncomfortable on the hard ground or leaning against a wall.

"Fucking Sanji, what does he have to do with what I do?" You murmured to yourself as you walked into the dimly lit kitchen, which was already packed with the crew dining at the table and savoring the food the blonde had prepared.

Dinner went quickly, and you just engaged in the conversations surrounding the upcoming supply gathering. Zoro's gaze tracked your movements, and you couldn't help but blush when you caught his attention in you. It was foolish, and even he looked puzzled by your behavior.

“If you'll excuse me, I need to wash the dishes to avoid a buildup.” You swiftly rose out of your chair as you began to pick up the dirty plates from the table. “Sanji, come with me.”

You were furiously scrubbing the plates when Sanji caught up with you at the sink and lit a cigarette “What's going on?”

You didn't know exactly what was going on. Outside of the nocturnal meetings, your relationship with Zoro was always easygoing; neither of you ever brought up your activities nor anything odd that might have addressed it. “It’s nothing serious, right? We're pirates, after all, so it makes sense that we would sleep with each other. He may have another female on a random island.”

If not for the fact that he had no random girls lying around, he had casually revealed to you that you were the only person he had slept with in the past few months. Why had he told you this?

“I don’t know what exactly you want me to say, love.”

“This is all your fault; I would have been perfectly normal if you hadn't started off with the idea of being serious or not.”

Sanji gave you a bored face, as he didn't seem stunned by anything. He snorted as he peered over your shoulder at the crew's still-occupied table. “Talk to him.”

You mumbled something indecipherable, hoping to put an end to the conversation. You didn't want to tell Zoro your thoughts because it might make everything too genuine, too real. Also, you couldn't help thinking that he may taunt you and assure you that what you two are doing is simply a casual fuck.

Even if you begged the gods for time to move more slowly, or even if you stood by in the kitchen a little longer to help the blonde clean the counters, you knew that eventually you would have to face Zoro.

As you walked down the stairs to the storage room, you limited yourself to positive thoughts; perhaps he won't notice your odd behavior; maybe he won't even give you a chance to speak before he picks you up by the hips, tosses you onto the mattress, and then takes you in such a way that you'll have to stifle your moans.

“Hey.” He was undoubtedly waiting for you for some time, as he was sitting on the mattress without his shirt on. You wondered how much time you spent helping Sanji in the kitchen. “C’mon here.”

Without looking him in the eyes, you untied your bra, dropped your shirt while approaching him, and just kneeled low enough to straddle his thighs. “Guess someone had been waiting for me."

“You look... so... pretty.” You moaned as one of Zoro's hands reached and pinched one of your nipples. “So perfect, only for me.”

He begins kissing and pinching the skin on your neck and jaw while stroking your breasts, yet your attention doesn't turn to the sensations in your body. For the thousandth time since your previous talk, you ponder whether he viewed you as special, whether or not he did what he does with you with others, if he engaged them in conversation about their insecurities, if he also talked about his childhood, if he also...

“What are you thinking?”

You emerged from your thoughts and let out a sigh as you regretted having come to see him with those thoughts in your head. You should have gone directly to your room and trusted that he would get the message. In short, you shouldn't have shown up.

“Could you just fuck me, please? I'm not in the best mood, Zoro.”

“No, I won’t fuck you when you’re barely here.” He threw out a sigh of annoyance at the situation at hand. ”Just tell me what's going on; you've been acting oddly since dinner.”

“Are we serious?”

The green-haired one grew silent and turned to face the wall behind you. As the room fell quiet, you tensed in his lap and started getting ready to get up and leave when he grabbed your hips roughly.

“I told you that I wasn't seeing anyone.” You could see a hint of color on Zoro's cheeks, as he was reluctant to look into your eyes. “I thought that meant quite the deal.”

“Oh. Oh. Are you for real? I didn’t realize this meant that.”

The realization made you feel embarrassed. It was so simple, yet you had been thinking about this particular comment of his for days. Of course, the careless manner in which he talked affected your understanding, but it was so fucking obvious.

“Y/N, I like you. But I don’t do this bullshit of boyfriend and girlfriend,it’s too... childish.” When he turned to face you, the inside of your chest started getting warm. “So, I really enjoy you. If you want to go tell Nami or the waiter that we are more than crewmates, sure, no problem, whatever.”

There was nothing you could say to express your delight other than a soft kiss, so you gave him that. You knew it wasn't a declaration of love; it's very likely that you weren't at that point in the relationship, but it was something.

“Just don't expect me to brag, kiss you on the deck or do anything cliche. You know that I am not like that.”

“Yeah, I know that.” Your lips curled into a faint smile. “I kind of like the private thing we have right here.’’

“Well, then, can we continue what we were doing? I mean, no offense, but it's difficult to pay attention with your boobs that close.”

You had barely finished nodding when his lips crashed into yours. He began nipping and sucking your lower lip between his teeth before sliding his tongue inside your mouth. His hands went right to your breast, and you whimpered when he lightly pinched your left nipple.

“Oh, Y/N…” Zoro mumbled, his pupils expanded, and his eyes grew dimmer. “I want you to sit on my face.”

“W-what? Why?”

Several times throughout your six or seven months with Zoro, he found himself between your legs. Receiving orals has never been an issue for you; in fact, he might actually like giving you orals due to how you wriggle under him.

But no, not in the way that he was requesting. The green-haired man was always reluctant when you were keen on riding his dick or being in any other position where he was at the bottom and “vulnerable”. Even though he never said it verbally, you could tell by the way he always tensed.

“What do you mean why, I want to eat you puss-“

“No, I know that.” You cut him off; it seemed odd that he wanted to do the position right then; you didn't want him to perform the deed out of a moral duty or anything similar. “Just, you know, you don't enjoy it when I'm topping.”

“Y/N… It's not that I don't enjoy it'” He cocked his head to the side while offering you kisses and hickeys in your neck. “Normally, I don't feel at ease. You, though, are the exception, and I want to make you feel good.”

You stopped straddling him to get off the mattress and take off the rest of your clothes. You felt his eyes watch you until you heard a noise that was obviously his body lying down completely on the mattress. Nervousness rose in your body as you returned to your starting position on his lap.

“It's alright, babe, come on up.” You were taken aback by Zoro's unexpected pet name—he never used that kind of thing—as his hands got to your waist.

He helped you climb up his body to his head, where you found yourself sitting on top of the green-haired face. But fuck, you dismissed all your anxieties the moment you felt his hot breath travel down your center.

He helped you climb up his body to his head, where you found yourself sitting on top of the green-haired face. But fuck, you dismissed all your anxieties the moment you felt his hot breath travel down your center.

“So wet for me.” You feel a rush of pleasure as you hear his breathy voice. “C’mon let me taste you”

He pushes you down by placing his hands on the inner sides of your thighs. Your folds are immediately warmed by Zoro's exploratory mouth heat. You whimpered as he ran his tongue over the length of your pussy, up and down, just to get a fickle at your clit and amplify your screams.

Zoro toys with the bundle of nerves with his teeth as he slides his tongue into you slowly. He knows exactly how to get you immediately over the edge. At first, the sensation is odd, yet gradually it causes your eyes to roll back in ecstasy. He is skilled at fucking you in every way possible.

“Y/N, I-” He stopped moving his head and breathed heavily into your core, “Ride me.”

The waves of pleasure pulsing through you nearly caused you to ask him to repeat what he had just said. If it weren't for Zoro's hands reaching to your ass and guiding you to move against his face, the lack of expertise probably would paralyzed you.

So you did ride him. You initially felt a little ashamed of the newly acquired control you had until you reached the ideal angle where his tongue pierced you and their teeth scraped your clit as you rocked back and forth.

“Oh, fuck Zoro, fuck..”

The green-haired man's hands were groping you blindly, squeezing your thigh and ass so thougly that it would probably have marks in the morning. You were drawn closer to his face as a result of his claws piercing right through the flesh.

You flung back your head as pleasure overtook you. Grabbing Zoro's hair with both hands and moving his face to find more friction, already too out of it to care what he felt.

You feel a rush of vibrations go through you as he moans into your core, and you just know that you’re close. Your walls clenched around Zoro's tongue as you rocked faster against his face.

“I-I’m so close”

You cum with a muffled scream of the green-haired man's name, and he continues fucking you through your orgasm, your body already getting tired from the overstimulation.

You're not sure how you got out of the position, but when you open your eyes, you're lying next to him, still gasping for air. You feel something shifting towards you, and when you look, Zoro is looking directly at your state.

“Are you alright?”

“No, I should be the one asking you that. Fuck, that was good”

He licks his juicy lips with his eyes half-open, completely pussy drunk. You suppose you should have an odd expression because he laughs, and you think you could hear that sound for the rest of your life.

You look away and end up coming into line of sight with his crotch, completely marked by his hard cock, which must be hurting at the time. You bring your hands to the waistband of his pants, but he stops you.

“No. Today was for you, only for you.” His tone is solemn, and you lack the strength to disagree or try to persuade him.

So you lie there next to each other, your body aching from the circumstances, but your mind is completely clear. You did not want to leave; you wanted to remain there forever, but you know it's past midnight and you both need to go to your rooms.

He gets up first. He's awkward and trying to hide his erection, despite the fact that you are already aware of it. “I need to go; you know, this mattress is not that comfortable…”

“Yeah, me too. I’m going in one minute.”

He comes to a halt just before the door, peering into your eyes one last time. “You should ride my dick next time.”

You can't stop your chuckle, and he grins as he leaves and closes the door.

You don't know how long you stayed on that mattress staring at the ceiling, remembering the whole night over and over again. You just know that when you finally got back to your room and finally let the tiredness get to you, it didn't take long for Nami to wake you up for the day.

Your body was sore; there were purple marks on your neck, thighs, and butt but everything was fine. When you arrived in the kitchen to have breakfast, he was there, like every day, but this time there was a tiny bit of difference in the way he said good morning to you.

#this is awful #anyways I tried #zoro #roronoa zoro #roronoa zoro x reader #one piece #opla #english is not my first language #op #one piece fanfiction #one piece zoro #mackenyu #op zoro #zoro x reader #zoro smut #one piece smut #op smut #opla smut #pirate hunter zoro #my works

[gegewrites]

Harvey (SDV)- One Glass Was all it Took (SMUT)

Hi, just dropping off this fanfic for you. Eat it up. hope yall enjoy I started this legit at 10am TODAY. This is the fastest I’ve written in a bit and the first fic I’ve finished in months (I’m so sorry)

The Harvey brain rot is real.

4-7-24

5.2k words

Your pov-

The sun was setting and I was relaxing on the porch swing, looking at the sky changing colors. It was a relaxing day, it rained in the morning, which made it easy to pet and collect from the animals, but annoying to  harvest the crops that were ready. It stopping raining at about four, and by then I was already done for the day. I contemplated going fishing or heading to the mines for a few hours to make up some of that wasted time but I ended up just cleaning and re-arranging some of the house. The birds were singing, still warm out but a cool breeze drifted through the trees. It was perfect out. 

"Enjoying the sunset?" I heard Harvey ask, I looked over and he was by the produce bin. I wasn't expecting him at all.

"Yeah, so pretty tonight." I smiled. He didn't come up into the porch, he leaned against the railing in front of me, a bottle of wine in hand being held out to me.

"I had to go to Zuzu City today, I picked this up on my way out. Think you'll enjoy it." He smiled as I leaned off the swing and grabbed it from him.

"This is my job." I giggled. It's a bottle of Cabernet Sauvignon, the label boasting a 10 year age and top quality French grapes.

"Just a little bit of payback for all the stuff you've brought me." He smiled,"I-"

"Should I get glasses?" I asked,"you don't have to leave so soon do you?"

"I can stay for a bit." He leaned off the railing as I stood up.

"Perfect, come in."

Half and hour later-

"…Just a bunch of city and small town doctors and donors looking to shell out money. If I was convincing enough hopefully a few donors will step up and donate some money to the clinic.” He took a sip from his glass and looked at me,” It's a decent drive to the city, i don’t mind it. I use to intern at the Zuzu hospital, but when I heard they didn't have a doctor in this town, that the other towns also driving to the city for healthcare, I settled in." His eyes looked away from the now dusky blue sky and looked at him, which were watching him intently," why are you here? Besides your grandfathers passing, I don’t think you’ve told me.”

"I wasn't doing so well back home...so when we did get the news grandpa died my parents saw it as a way for me to get a new fresh start...and it worked, but boring I'll be honest. Three years, everyday almost the same." I shrugged my shoulders and finished the last of my glass. We both were only on the first glass, talking more than drinking.

"I get that. In a town so small it's easy to fall into a repetition...only reason why I've kept my car. I could sell it, put that money into the clinic, but when people in the outside towns needs assistance and they can't get here I get to switch it up and go to them."  He looked down at his glass and then back to me,"it's important to find joy in daily life, especially when you're life is a lot of physical work....its also important to find the time to relax."

"Yeah, but there's always something that has to get done over here or someone needs something." His hand came down and sat just above my knee.

"You need to start making time for yourself." His face was serious, but not scolding. His brows lightly furrowed together, but his eyes held a caring look.

"Doctors orders?" I smiled, a chuckle trailing behind the words and I felt my cheeks flush. Luckily it was darker out but the porch light was still on.

"Doctors orders." He smiled, his eye contact was held with mine. He did look like he was contemplating something, his eyes slightly looking down below mine before locking back with mine.

Usually it would take me a third glass to get the confidence to make any sort of move, but over the few years I've been here, the conversations we've had, professional settings and non professional, it gave me the confidence.

The swing wasn't big, our legs were comfortably touching, and his hand still sat on my leg. I pushed up just a bit, my lips connecting to his, my heart was pounding out of my chest, but he returned it quickly, the hand on my thigh came to my check and my heart rate relaxed a bit.  His mustache tickled my nose but I didn't mind it at all. We both tasted like wine and I heard his glass tink against the table in his side, his newly free hand softly held my other cheek, mine still holding my glass. He was the first to pull away from the slow kiss.

"(y/n)..."  he whispered before pulling back more and my heart sped up, awaiting rejection,"are you sure about this?"

"I've never been more sure of anything, Harvey." I replied quickly but not forcefully, he took the glass from my hand and placed it with his on the table behind him.

I could tell he was thinking, quickly contemplating the decisions he could make. He turned back to me, pushing his glasses further onto the bridge of his nose.

"I'm a thirty four year old doctor stuck in place." His thumb brushed my cheek as he spoke.

"And im a twenty five year old who couldn't hold down a job long enough to have a chance to be stable." I confessed,"my last relationship ended with cops and a restraining order."

"I'm sorry to hear that. But (y/n), you said you're bored, you're bored here... I watch the history channel and live quietly."

"You don't get it, Harv. I'm bored cause I'm alone, everyday I wake up and it's just me, you're stuck in place cause it's just you. Don't humans need others around? We are social animals."  He let out a quiet and sharp exhale from him nose, hand still in my cheek that didn't even realize I've relaxed into.

"There are others-"

"Please Harvey, I've already tried, they've all got their own dreams in places I've already tried to live and couldn't....i want quiet but I don't wanna be alone."  His hand slid away from my cheek, just to hold onto my chin,"there's no reason to not try."

"You have to understand that I'm still your doctor and if it doesn't work-"

"If it doesn't work my ass Harvey." I grabbed lightly onto his other wrist,"I've never been more sure of anything.."I leaned forwards,"and you haven't been only  charging me half for no reason, don't think I haven't noticed. You can say you're not the right one but it's obvious Harv-"

He cut me off with his lips, his hand coming to my waste, pulling my body a bit closer to his. I kissed him back quickly not wasting any time, my body was twisted a bit, my hands held onto his jacket covered shoulders. Our lips moved in sync, tongues tangling with each other, heat and want radiating from the both of us.

My hand grabbed onto his tie as I slid off the swing and stood up, our lips didn't disconnect, his big hands sat on my waist as he sat up higher before standing. He was taller than me, so he was bowed down to keep the kiss going and my back pressed against the railing of the porch. He pulled away, and stood up straight, looking down at me. His hand left my waist and he pushed his glasses back up. God he was handsome.

I decided to ditch the glasses that were on  the table and lead him inside by his tie.

When we got to my bedroom he took off his jacket and I loosened his tie before I started undoing his belt while he kicked off his shoes. His hands coming to the bottom of my shirt, slipping it off of my body, dropping it to the floor as he walked me back, the back of my legs feeling the mattress and he unclipped my bra. My thighs pressed together a bit, feeling that pulse between my legs and myself getting wetter. He slid it down my arms and I sat down, his hands running down my body as he slowly got down onto his knees.

"This bruise is concerning."  He ran his thumb on the right side of my ribs and I rolled my eyes.

"I can't even feel it Harv." I rolled my eyes with a smile and cupped his cheek, his cheek and jaw was a bit tickly. He placed a kiss to the top of my chest, kissing my collarbones and then down between my breasts,"if you want to know it's from my goat getting too excited and accidentally butting me."

"I'm glad.." his hand cupped my breast, fingers massaging it, my nipple pressed into his palm as he placed a kiss on my other. My hand sat on the back of his neck, my nails lightly scratching his scalp, his shaggy hair between my fingers," it's nothing serious…but goats are pretty strong,” he looked up at me,”could’ve broken a rib.”

I couldn’t help but laugh as his lips returned to my breast. I propped up on my left arm, his tongue swirled around my nipple, teeth teasing it lightly and I grinded down to on the mattress from the pressure of need building up inside of me. While he places kisses to my breasts his hands came down and undid the button of my jeans, and unzipped them. He pushed up slightly placing a kiss on my sternum and I laid back on my forearm. He hooked his fingers into my jeans, I raised my hips a bit and he pulled them down slowly, my panties going with them. His eyes locked with mine, until the fabric fell to the floor, and now I was naked with him between my legs.

Both of us paused. Suddenly I wish I had drank another glass. His eyes trailed down my body, taking it in.

“Harvey?” I asked, and he looked up at me, his look alone told me I was the one feeling off.

“Sorry…taking it in now.” He pushed my thighs out, spreading my legs wider, and he grew taller, kneeling only on one knee now,”once these glasses come off I can’t exactly see you the best.”

I felt my face blush as his hand ran along the inside of my thigh, and my pussy tighten from his touch. It’s been awhile, a good four years since I’ve been with something other than a vibrator. I felt his thumb slide up my lips, feeling how wet I’ve gotten, then his thumb slipped between and immediately found my clit. My lips parted the moment his thumb pad touched my clit, he slowly and softly dragged his thumb in a circle against it and my head lulled back a bit and I let out a sigh. He trailed a few kisses on the inside of my thigh, mustache tickling and dragging against my skin. His thumb worked a bit faster and my thighs quivered a few times.

“Harvey please.” I pushed out with a breath and I heard him hum lightly. His thumb left my clit and I felt his middle finger circle my wet hole before dipping in causing a moan to rumble in my throat as I bit my lip. His fingers were nice, he had nice hands at that. His fingers were long kind of thick, but nimble none the less. He curled his finger to the curve of my walls as he slowly dragged it in and out. I didn’t realize where he was till I felt the left side of the bed dip a bit.

“Absolutely soaked.” He whispered into my ear and a shiver ran down my spine and I tightened around his finger,”you haven’t had anything in a while, huh?”

“Too busy..mm, too tired at the end of the day.” I answered, feeling him kiss my neck, his stubble scratching lightly at my skin.

He kissed my shoulder with a hum, his middle finger leaving me, but coming back with his ring finger in tow. His fingers slipped right back in, my head couldn’t help my fall back, the front of my neck completely bared to him. He curled his fingers to my anatomy again and he sped up the slightest. I could feel how wet I was, it was almost embarrassing, but come on…it’s Harvey.

My hips rolled into his palm and his fingers found my gspot, I bit down onto my lips, my eyes fell close.

“Right theere.” I moaned, and he changed his fingers positions, a deeper curl. I heard something light fall onto the bed and my eyes opened the littlest. I saw his glasses. I raised my head, timing perfectly with him lifting my left leg onto his shoulder. His stubble rubbing against the inside of my thigh, before feeling his tongue against my clit, he kept a steady pace and motion with his fingers. His tongue slowly lapped at my clit,my hand finding the top of his hair, not tugging but sitting in it, holding it out of his face. I was breathing heavy, breathy moans just slipping out. His lips latched on to clit, a mix of licking and sucking, making my body tense and my moans grow louder.

“Oh God.” I moaned out, my heel digging into his back just below his shoulder blade,”Fuuuck Harv.”

He pushed up onto the bed, his left arm wrapped around the front of my thigh, holding the inside of it with his hand and he pumped his fingers deeper and faster. I heard a groan erupt from him as his tongue dipped in with his fingers before sliding back to my clit, giving it a harsh suck. My hands gripped into his hair, my body pushing into his. My head felt light, my thigh tensing in his grip, being held open to avoid squeezing his head. The way he was circling, sucking, and licking my clit roughly paired with his fingers “come hither” and just how deep his fingers were inside of me I was on the verge of cumming. I could feel my slick dripping down my ass, definitely soaked in the comforter, my walls tightened around his fingers. My moans were more present, louder, and longer. My body felt like it was on fire in the best way possible.

“I’m gonna cum Harv.” I whined out, releasing his hair for a second before griping back on. My thighs started twitching and the upper half of my body curling forwards yet my head lulling back,”I’m gon-gonna cum baby.”

He didn’t change was he was doing, and my toes curled, my eyes rolling back, my teeth digging into my bottom lip as my body tightened. that knot in my abdomen snapping, cumming on his fingers. We kept his pace steady as I rode out my release, only slowing down when I started whimpering and hips near spasming into his face.

I fell onto my back, as his fingers slid out of my pussy, his tongue lapping up my release. His hand left the inside of my thigh, and I heard his glasses drag towards him, before wrapping around it again. He placed a kiss to the inside of my thigh, his mustache wet. I was catching my breath, coming back to reality when my thigh dropped from his shoulder and I felt his thumb swipe across my bottom lip. I opened them and his finger laid on my tongue, I closed my lips around them, cleaning my cum off of them.

I opened my eyes when he slid his fingers out of my mouth. He was standing in front of the bed, looking down at my pussy, the bulge in his dark brown corduroys prominent. I sat up, and pulled him to me by his tie, kissing him heatedly, tasting myself on his tongue. My fingers started undoing the buttons of his shirt, tugging it out of jeans and pulling away from him, a light bite dragging his lip before letting go. His lips were pink, so was his face. He undid his tie enough to get it off over his head and took off his long sleeve as I placed kisses down his stomach, slowly unzipping his pants.

He wasn’t a “fit” man, he had a dad bod but no kids(not yet), but he was attractive and sexy as hell nonetheless. He brushed the hair out of my face as I kissed down his happy trail. I slid down to my knees and he took a step back. I looked up at him through my lashes as I hooked my fingers into the waist on his pants and boxer band, and slid them down. His cock sprung out and I stopped pulling down his pants. He was decent size, long enough to where he wouldn’t be able to get all of it in but most, but he was thick. It made sense for a man as meaty as he is.

I kissed up his thigh, which had impeccable grinding quality. His fingers carded through my hair, my hands sat on his hips as I kissed up his body till I was standing, a bit wobbly, but his hand came around to my back.

“I wanna ride you.” I kissed his chest and he chuckled, his hand sat on the side of my neck and lower part of my jaw, his thumb brushed over my jaw, before he angled my face to look up at him.

“You can, but you have to go easy.” I gave him a pouty furrowed brow look and he smirked with fondness,”you haven’t had sex in awhile. Feeling how tight you were-and just with fingers, you have to take it easy.”

“You saying I’m too small for your cock, Doctor?” I whispered intimately and I wrapped my arms around his neck and stood on my tippy toes, my chest pressing into his, his cock pressed against the front of my thigh. His face flushed even more as his hands held onto my waist. My hand came around to the back of his head and I pulled his head closer to mine and I whispered,”guess it’s a good thing I’m absolutely soaked for you.”

He let out a breath I don’t think he realized he was holding in and I lowered down onto my soles. He hasn’t gotten a moment to speak, this pussy has his tongue caught. My fingers dragging against his skin as I backed up and crawled onto the bed. I propped up onto my arms, facing him, and spread my legs open, my heels stable on the edge of the bed.

“Do you wanna be the one to stretch this pussy then?” It looked like his brain stopped working for a second, before has hand gripped onto his cock, his tongue quickly swiping along the bottom of his top lip and he smirked lightly, more adoration then the lust his eyes held.

“I probably shouldn’t, no condoms.” He crossed his arms, oh he looked good.

“What did you go into the city and fuck a stripper?” I joked and he shook his head with a chuckle.

“We’re unprotected.” His hands moved to his waist and I looked at him with a dumbfounded look.

“Harvey…you’re the dude who gives me my birth control every month.” He rolled his eyes and adjusted his glasses.

“I’m aware of that, It’s still unsafe nonetheless.” His hands sat on my knees before grabbing the back of my calves.

“Live a little, just for tonight.” His grip tightened on my calves and he looked to the side and then back to me before pulling me edge of the bed, I fell onto my back as he held my calfs on his waist, his cock sitting right over my soaking cunt. His head tapping against it as it bounced lightly.

“For tonight.” His hand let go of my calf and I held it against his waist. His glasses slid down the bridge of his nose and his caressed my cheek, him thumb brushed against the cheek bone. He used that same hand to drag the head of his cock between my slick lips, running it against my clit, then rubbing his tip against my needy hole, he watched his cock slide between my lips before he looked up at me.

“Need a pillow.” I quickly grabbed the fluffiest one from behind me and handed it to him. I tightens my legs around him but he peeled them off,”where’s your bathroom?”

“Why?” I asked sitting up.

“Just need a towel.” I just fell in love with him. Luckily there was a bathroom in my bedroom so I pointed to the door and he walked over. Man has a nice ass, he is just good looking in general.

He came back with one of my thick towels, dark grey. He folded it into two and put it over the towel. I laid back down, holding my knees close to my chest and he grabbed my calf’s, spreading my legs and placing my lower half onto the pillow.

“That’s better.” His hands guided my legs around his waist, spitting into his palm and stroking his cock. I swallowed and bit down onto my lower lip as he stroked his cock through my lips. He was right, this angle felt better. His tip circled my entrance and he looked at me,”you ready?”

“Mmhmm.” I nodded and he paused for a moment before he started pushing the tip in. I immediately gripped onto the mattress below me my eyes squeezing shut, he was so right. He always right.

“I think I-“ he stopped pushing in mid tip.

“No no, just keep going…Fuck Harv.”

“Just tell me if it hurts, I’ll go easy.” He started pushing it in again. My walls stretching around him yet clamping down on him. It was a mix of absolute pleasure and pain. A deep throaty grain erupted out of his chest, I opened my eyes to see his head tilted back before coming back to look down at his cock stretching into me. I when he bottomed he pressed deeper into me and pushed out a shakey moan from my lips.

He stopped for a moment, giving my body a chance to relax around him, his hand ran up and down my thigh comfortingly as I breathed in and out, my brows twisted together.

“Move, please” I said softly and he did just that, he slowly slid his cock out of me, even his tip, and slid it back inside. Another moan left my left, my lips stayed open as he pushed in deeper this time, pulling out to his tip and pushing back in. He kept it slow and steady, listening to the whines and groans that fell from my lips.

“Shit (y/n).” He groaned out, I felt his thumb press against my clit, rubbing tight and slow circle against it, my legs tightening around his waist. He moved his hips a bit faster, his cock dragging against my walls. His thumb abandoned my clit, and his hands grabbed onto my hips, holding them tightly, fingertips pressing deeply into my ass.

“Fuck me Harvey.” I breathed out.

“How do you want it, darling?” I pressed my lips together and a small giggle sounded in my throat from the pet name that fell from his lips, I felt my body curl a bit as his hand touched my check. His tone was as smooth as whiskey dripping with lust,”tell me how you want me to fuck you.”

“Faster…” I swallowed and took a breath, my voice a bit shakey,”and deeper.”

His movements did become a bit faster, still focused on not hurting me, but he did pressed his cock deeper into me on each thrust.

“Good good.” My lips fell open as he started thrusting harder, his tip starting to hit that spot in me,”oooh yess.”

“found it?”

“Uuhuh.” I moaned, and he thrusted his tip against it again, but harder, to confirm and it was confirmed with an unsolicited moan.

“You’re taking me so well, (y/n). So daaamn good.” He groaned, his thrusts stayed sharp and even but he sped up more, rocking his hips into my pelvis. I tightened around him getting lost in the feeling of his tip sliding through my walls, the sound of his skin now slapping against mine, and the way groans and light moans fell from his lips. My heels dug into his back and his name trailed out of my lips. I felt my slick drip down my ass and into the towel, hearing how wet his motions sound now. I felt his body lean forwards, his thrusts kept steady, but slowed down a bit, fucking deeply into me, his cock grinding perfectly against my g-spot now.

“Oooh! Har-Harvey!” I loudly moaned out, it didn’t hurt, well a little bit, but it felt too good to complain. He was tall so his forearms laid flat on the bed trapping my head. He placed a kiss on my forehead, my hands wrapping around his back and gripping onto his shoulders. I couldn’t help but moan Into his ear, erotic moans falling from my lips as my pussy got wetter.

“Such a good girl. Taking my cock like this.” He strained out, my nails were digging into his skin as he sped up more. My eyes clamped shut, sob like moans ripping out of my throat, that heat building up in my lower abdomen telling me I was the verge of spilling over.

“Ha-Harvey,” I breathed out, my words whined ,”I’m gon-I’m gonna cum.”

“Cum on my cock, darling.” He groaned into my ear. His breath was hot against my skin, and the erotic groans falling from his lips were a perfect music to my ears. My left hand slid off his back, and I felt his weight shift, and I peeled my eyes open. He didn’t have his glasses on, and he was propped up on left arm, his right hand went back to my pussy, his hand pressed down on my pelvis, his thumb rubbing my clit quickly.

“Harvey! Aaaah fuuuuck!” My back arched up and a moan tore out of me, as my orgasm ripped through me. I saw starbursts behind my closed eyes, a rush of heat covering my whole body as it tensed up. My walls clamped around him as my right hands nails scraping against his back and he let out a strained groan.

“That’s it…That’s it.” He cooed, and I felt

His cock twitch inside of me as he fucked me through my high.

He kept his pace as steady as he could, going back to standing, his thumb abandoned my clit. I looked at him with heavy lids, watching his face,his glasses were back on, his lips were parted and his eyes watched his cock thrust in and out of me , and how his hands gripped onto my thighs.

“Come on Harv.” My tone tripped with ecstasy, as I propped up on my arms a bit to watch him and his body better, his eyes met mine, half lidded, before looking down, watching the way my chest moved from his thrusts,”cum for me Harvey.”

I felt his cock twitch more inside of me, his thrust still felt good and I couldn’t help but moan.

“Fuck.” He groaned out, his neck straining, his body tightening, and I bit my lip at the sight of him on the verge of coming undone, but there was something holding him back, himself really.

“You-you can cum inside of me Harv..” I breathed out and swallowed and he locked his eyes with mine,”you can cum wherever.”

I relaxed my legs grip on his waist, and with those words he finally came undone. He slid out of me quickly, his hand stroking his cock roughly, spirting white cum onto my stomach. His head lulled back as he stroked his cock, slowing it down that last bit dripped down the bottom of his head and onto my stomach.

He breathed heavily as my legs fell from his waist and he sat down in the edge of the bed and fell into his back next to me. I closed my legs and r looked up and over at him, hand on his chest, catching his breath. I kissed his shoulder and he looked over at me, a blissed out look on his face and I smiled.

“You got game Harv.” I giggled and looked down at my stomach, and he sat up.

“I’ll get you cleaned up.” He leaned to me and placed a kiss on my lips before standing up, and proceeded to do just that.

The next day, noon

Harvey slept over last night, but when I woke up at six he was already gone, there was a note on the kitchen table in his hand writing that advised me to hydrate and thanking me for the good night. The wine glasses that were left outside were clean and on the drying rack as well. I had already gotten what I had to get done outside done, but it was another rainy day, absolutely down pouring. I had to change my clothes even though I had on my rain jacket, so I decided today would be a day that I would take to myself.

I was laying in the couch reading, some cable show playing on the tv. My reading was interrupted by a knock on the door, so I placed my marker in the book and got up quickly and headed to the door. I unlocked it and opened it.

“Hi.” Harvey smiled, one hand held a soaked umbrella, his other was behind his back.

“That umbrella didn’t do you too well.” I giggled, seeing the rain spots on his button up, he looked at his shirt and chuckled.

“I guess not, at least I’m not soaked though…I’m sorry I walked out early, there was a shipment coming to the clinic at six thirty I had to be there for.” He explained.

“That’s alright, thanks for cleaning the glasses.” I wasn’t in front of the doorway he could walk in but he hasn’t,”what do you need Harv?”

“I…I wanted to give you this.” The hand that was behind his back came out and revealed a gorgeous bouquet. My lips fell over in shock and soon those like formed the biggest smile. My cheeks flushed as I took it from him, I looked at it for a few seconds before looking back at him,”you’re right…maybe this could work.”

#gegewrites #fanfiction #smut writer #stardew valley #sdv harvey #stardew harvey #Harvey sdv smut #harvey sdv x reader #sdv smut #sdv fanfic #stardew valley smut #stardew valley Harvey #smut

[the-orange-tabby-cat]

Wednesday

joel miller x fem!reader

Summary of the fic: For the last 5 years, every Wednesday you watched a handsome man walk by your street with a lilac bouquet in hands. Except he doesn't stroll on your street this Wednesday, he shows up at your grief support group. 🐾

read on AO3 | masterlist | previous chapter Warnings: No outbreak AU, Grief and its implications, Reader lost her mom, Reader's mom has a name (but no physical description), Group therapy, Grief support group, Parent grief, Angst and Hurt/Comfort, Slow Burn, Slow Build, Fluff, No use of y/n Word count of the chapter: 3,7k

A/N: For the longest time I've thought "What if Joel lost Sarah anyway?" and this became the answer to this question. I have no clue about how big this series will be, but I do know I want to explore grief and loss with these two in the most delicate way possible. Hope you enjoy it 🐾

I. LILAC

Coffee. Sketchbook. Balcony. Five years of waking up early on Wednesdays, grabbing a cup of coffee, and sitting near the railings to wait for him. Like a clock, at 8 am sharp he appears by the street corner with a lilac bouquet under his arm. 

His strong profile will be the only thing in your vision for a few minutes as he walks by. You drew it so many times that you could do it with your eyes closed. The man will walk by at a steady pace without looking around (brows deeply furrowed in a “don’t fuck with me” kind of sign), focused on his way down the street.

Tall, dark hair and a patchy beard with a square jaw… He is dreamy, but also out of reach. Where is he going? Why the lilacs? Are they for a woman, his wife maybe? Every Wednesday at 8 am, never a minute late, both he and you.

As you took a sip of your coffee, you glanced over the watch marking 7:58 am, he would be here any minute. You prepared the table in expectancy, what outfit would he be wearing today? You hoped for the green shirt, but the blue one wouldn’t be as bad.

7:59 am. His hair is a little overgrown now, but you like the way his curls frame his face. The broadness of his shoulders and how tall he looks next to the other pedestrians. You aren’t sure of the color of his eyes from afar, maybe green or brown.

8:01 am and no signal of him. This is a first. Maybe you mistook the day of the week, check your phone, and… No, Wednesday still. You squirm in your seat, impatiently looking for him. 8:07 am, he never got so late. Should you keep waiting? You don’t even know his name.

At 8:30 am you give up. A wave of melancholy fills the air. Oh god, be for fucking real, are you really sad because a strange man and his stupid lilacs didn’t walk down your street?

“Don’t forget: 9 am at the gate”, you reread your grandpa's text. 

You couldn’t be able to forget it, but deep down wish you could avoid it. Cemeteries aren’t your thing, the constant reminder of the death surrounding you. However, they are Grandpa’s way of dealing with it and who are you to judge?

The sketchbook is opened at the last page you drew, with the man staring in front of him fully angered. How did you end up with over 200+ drawings of a man you never met? The doctor said finding a hobby would help and so you did: drawing. “You see what no one else sees”, your mom used to say and you decided to take a test. Too bad your eyes landed on a strange man walking down the street, holding on tightly to a lilac bouquet. Even worse he had been doing the same path for five years right in front of your balcony.  The only things in your sketchbook are his face, his hands, and the bouquet. This is your third one since you kept running out of pages.

As you put the sketchbook away, your mind drifted away to your mother’s (possible) commentary. “Don’t be silly, he will come by later, I’m sure something happened” and she, most likely, would be right. She was always right. 8:50 am and with your chest tightened from “talking” to her inside your mind, your feet landed at the cemetery’s gate.

“No flowers? Really? Who raised you, pigs?”, your grandpa said narrowing his eyes at you.

He, of course, was an impeccable mess in his hat, black coat, thin-framed glasses that gave him a Bond villainesque look. In his rugged hands a white rose bouquet, carefully made and held by.

“If I remember right, and I do remember it, we are talking about the same woman who said that flowers are for the living, not the dead.” He rolled his eyes in response but in good fun. “Why the flowers then?”

“My biggest mistake was to raise a woman a little too avant-garde, wasn’t it? C’mon, we don’t have the whole day,” he deep sighed while showing you the way. 

You knew the path, but your feet seemed to avoid getting there, that’s why you followed Grandpa’s steps in the hope of not turning around and leave. It was a little ritualistic if you were honest: Grandpa would have some kind of gift in his hands that he would leave at the tombstone, and you would pretend to do not care as you deeply cared about it. She wasn’t there anymore, she hadn’t been for a long time.

Behind his glasses, you could see a lost man driven by grief. His hands shaking as he cleaned her name at the tombstone, the gaze avoiding yours. He would always wear black on cemetery days, as if the time never passed and it was the first visit yet.

“Want to go first?” He asked, you sighed in response. “Don’t know why I still ask.”

“It’s… Fine. You know she was a Buddhist, right? She believed in reincarnation. I feel a little silly talking to her,” you confessed while chewing the lip corners.

“Oh, trust me: I knew her the same amount as you, maybe even more. She was my daughter, for fuck’s sake.” Startled, you looked at him in shock at the rare occasion he would curse. Shit. “I’m not here because of her beliefs or lifestyle. Do you quote her inside your head? Because I do too, I too remember every small detail of her. I’m here because it’s how I tell myself she isn’t fully gone. So sorry if I’m too old-fashioned and feel like talking a few words at my daughter's tombstone with my grandaughter who, honestly? Could show a little more love towards her right now. I want to talk with her like we used to at the kitchen table on Sundays, I want to bring her flowers just like I did on her birthday and there is no Buddha, Allah, or a flying horse that can stop me. Now, can you open your fucking mouth and say something nice to your mom about your week?”

Silence took the space for a second before you simply replied with, “Better?”

“Yes, a lot. Thank you for asking, now go on, please.” He adjusted his hat and cleared his throat. You hummed, getting a little courage to look directly at the tombstone.

“Hum. I got a new couch last week, a velvety green one. A little too sexy, if I might, but you would probably say I need something sexy to attract someone even sexier. Am I rambling?” You asked, raising your eyes from the stone, but he made a motion for you to continue it. “Let me think, oh, the cat hunted a pigeon. It was somewhat disgusting because of the amount of feathers in my apartment…”

“Did the pigeon survive?” He asked, in his eyes with a slight curiosity.

“Yes, but by a thread. It was her cat, a little savage just like her!”

The conversation went on easily after it. Grandpa had found some old notebooks of your mom, including one with a cake recipe he would later send to you. You wouldn’t tell him, it did feel better not because you were speaking to her, but because you could watch him relax in his uptight perpetual state. In the blink of an eye, your mind wandered to the strange man and if he ever relaxed like that.

Grief is a strange thing. It took a little encouragement from your therapist and the need to move on, but you had started to go to weekly meetings of a grief support group at the local church (the only thing that made you enter that space). The first months were awkward, you went but avoided it at the same time. Slowly, it grew on you. Five years of not missing a single Wednesday, even on vacation.

Your grandpa tried once, but it just wasn’t for him. He didn’t want to move on or find a meaning for it, he needed to feel his grief as second skin. You needed it to stop suffocating you, to scream and shout about that weight in the hope of someone taking it from your back.

This Wednesday wasn’t any different. You entered the church's back door with some cookies in hand, even if you were well aware that most people couldn’t eat as they exposed their pain, it was more of a sweet gesture than a necessity. The white walls and the cross in front of you completed the scenario.

“Cookies? You never eat anything,” Henry questioned while taking a bite. His dark eyes staring suspiciously at you.

“My grandpa found an old cookie recipe from my mom. How does it taste?” You replied as you watched him bite. You couldn’t bear to try it first, too anxious about it.

“Your mom was definitely a writer, not a chef. Taste like an old sock.” His face contorted as he spat out the cookie. Well, you tried something new.

“Yeah, no wonder I survived out of Lucky Charms and BTLs.” Henry laughed as you let go of your shoulder’s tension a bit.

The grief support group had grown and shrunk over the years. Sometimes people would feel good enough to leave the support, those were the lucky ones: grief was a period of their life, not an everyday thing. In other cases, they would get too depressed and leave before making some actual change in their being. You, unfortunately, were addicted to bond with the pain part of it.

Well, you and them. Henry was the first you met, totally wrecked after losing his little brother, Sam, to leukemia. He almost left college due to the weight of grief but kept it together, you even went to his graduation a few years back. 

Tess came later. First, her kid died and then, in a stroke of bad luck, she found out she had a terminal disease that would, eventually, kill her. She wasn’t there to deal with the death of others, but her own. She was slowly dying and it was scary as shit. Not that you would know it from the outside, she had more strength (both physically and mentally) than most.

Frank was the group leader, conducting the discussion and creating the safe spaces. Everything you had said while hugging him, no matter how bad, never came back to hunt you. Which was odd on its own, but even odder considering his grumpy husband, Bill, was the exact opposite. Everything you did said in Bill’s direction came back to hunt you right after it came out of your mouth.

People come and go, but you stay there. Grabbing your regular place at the circle, putting the name tag on your shirt, and drinking some water just in case you cry. Except today you have someone new seated across you.

His strong nose and patchy beard hint someone you do know. His square jaw tensed up, brows deeply furrowed in a “don’t talk to me, I want to go home” that you could draw with eyes closed. The name tag reads “Joel”. You were right, his eyes are brown.

It feels weird to look at him without a pen and paper in hand, but it feels just right to see his features up close. Tess brings him coffee - black, you noticed - and gives him an eye silently saying “Don’t fuck it up”.

The meeting starts, Frank asks who is there for the first time. Joel and a woman, Hannah, raise their hands.

“It’s tradition to introduce ourselves at our first meeting. You don’t need to tell the details of why you are here or who you are, just simple information that people can distinguish you from the rest of the group.” Frank explains to a tired Joel, who sighs in response while Hannah overshares who she is.

Of course he doesn’t want to be there. Nobody wants to. You wish you could leave every time you cross the door, but know that the moment the meeting starts to develop you will want to continue in that deep state of pouring your heart out.

“I’m Joel, my friend Tess convinced me to come. That’s it.” He simply states, loud and straight. You catch Frank laughing.

“I’m afraid I’ll have to push you a little on it. Why did you accept to come here?” Joel furrows even deeper at the provocation.

“I didn’t. She trapped me.” Tess raises her very blonde eyebrows at him, who snaps. “You did trap me. Call me saying it was an emergency, I go to your house expecting the worst and you lock me inside there until the time to come here after I said I wouldn’t go to a grief support group.”

“See? He is an asshole, he needs this.” She answers Frank, making sure he gets her points. Your mom was right, something had happened to him.

“So, Joel, why are you here still?” Frank subtly asks.

“I beg your pardon?” Joel’s eyes are softer now, getting caught off guard. He doesn’t have any argument for it.

“Yes Joel, why are you still here? I’m not trapping you in this char, nobody is holding you down.” Tess retorts her mouth in his direction, that scoffs and looks around the room. When his eyes look into yours, you smile coyly unable to retain yourself.

“Sir, please continue.” Accepting defeat, Joel crosses his arms around his chest, fully ignoring Tess's triumphant smile.

“You are free to leave at any point, no need to tell us why. But I guarantee that if you stay, you might learn we aren’t that bad.” Frank nods in his direction, gaining a hard sigh. “Let’s start. Before every meeting, we say out loud the names of those who have gone to allow ourselves to think about them without shame, remorse, or guilt. You know the drill, Henry?”

“Sam,” Henry says firmly.

“Abigail,” you speak loudly.

Another silly little gesture, but you do allow yourself to think about her after it. Every single time. It’s almost as if the weight of her, the one that you carry around all day and pretend isn’t there suffocating you, comes to sit by you, not on you. 

“Teresa,” Tess points at her.

“Sarah,” Joel almost murmurs looking at the ground. His hands are fidgeting, his mind in another place. 

You have been there, you know how strange it is to say it for the first time out loud after a while, sounds forbidden and partly awkward. You aren’t supposed to say it to strangers, it’s sacred just for you, and yet, here you are saying it to whoever wants to share this pain with you.

You wonder if Sarah liked lilac flowers.

Some people speak about how they dealt with grief during the week until Frank asks you how the cemetery visit went. The group knows that meeting your grandpa there gives you a chill up the spine.

“I think I forget that he is allowed to grieve as he needs. I know all these little parts of her, how she lived her life. I’m quick to fight because she isn’t here to defend herself. I’m not even sure she would like for me to defend the memory of who she is… Sorry, was. Of who she was.” You swallow dryly, trying to ignore the miswording. “He bought her flowers. She always said that flowers were for the living, not the dead, and yet, he bought her a bouquet. I got frustrated, felt like he was trying to put her in a box of who he wanted her to be.

“He put me in my place quickly, even said fuck.” Henry makes some noise in surprise, you nod agreeing. “Exactly, it dawned on me: the flowers are for him, not for her. Just like his grief and how he needs to express it is only for himself, not for me to judge. I think he misses her more than he tells me. If I could go back in time, I would have implored him to cremate her and stop this nonsense of going to her grave, checking her tombstone, giving her damn flowers.”

“Maybe the flowers are his way of saying out loud that he cares too. She was his daughter before being your mother.” Joel speaks out loud, getting your full attention. His arms are still crossed, but now his eyes are lost in thought, almost as if he didn’t want you to hear it.

“Maybe. I just wish he allowed himself to stop pretending she is still here. I want to think of her without feeling guilty that she isn’t. He is too busy missing her to notice that I’m missing him.” You answer locking eyes with Joel, who chews the corners of his mouth, once again deep in thought.

“Maybe he doesn’t know how to do it, need help.” His voice soft, just like his eyes.

“Maybe.” You give in, feeling that Joel isn’t speaking about your grandpa. You swallow as you remember the lilacs.

The meeting runs smoothly. The group finishes by drinking coffee before parting ways. Frank is chatting by the corner with Joel, who is running a hand by the nape of his neck. Curiosity gets the best of you and, before you can stop, you question Tess.

“Who is Sarah?”

“A million-dollar question, huh?” She teases as she sips her sugary coffee. Henry looks between you two, waiting for a response. “You both haven’t heard from me, I’ll deny til death that I’ve ever said it. His daughter, she died a few years back. He hasn’t been the same since. That motherfucker goes to her grave every fucking Wednesday.”

“He visits her every Wednesday?” The number of drawings of Joel walking down your street early in the morning with a lilac bouquet makes more sense. His face, his fast speed, how he ignored everyone that walked by, how he never noticed you at your balcony.

“Yes, she died on a Wednesday, he relives that event every week since.”

Frank walks in your direction, Joel right behind him looking everywhere, except your face. If he only knew how much you have looked at his face before.

“I recall you haven’t been a mentor yet, right?” Frank starts and you nod, curious about where he is going. “Amazing! You’ll have your first newbie. Joel, you’re in good hands.”

He leaves before you can say anything, whether yes or no. Fuck. Joel is confused as well, still looking like he would rather leave. You open your mouth and go grab your phone.

“Sooooo… How was your first meeting?” Flipping through your phone until find your own number isn’t a good move to show that you are smart, trustful and worthy but right now you only want to avoid his brown eyes.

“Pass.” You blink at him. “I won’t keep chit-chatting. Cut to the chase.”

“Oh damn, I thought you had softened a little with time.” He fights the urge to roll his eyes and you smirk at him, reading him like a book. “I’ll give you my number in case you need someone to talk to. And yes, you can call me anytime you want to. And no, I won’t get your number. You come to me or I won’t come to you.”

That entertains him a little. It was the first rule of your mentor, she made sure you would look for her and not the other way so you could understand when and what triggered you. Joel just nods as he saves your contact.

“When did you first contact your mentor?” He questions, sounding genuine in his curiosity.

“Diet Coke, couldn’t drink.” The furrowed brows are back, so you continue. “My mom would mostly only drink Diet Coke, after she passed away I would buy canes just to open and hear the sizzling. Couldn’t drink otherwise would vomit from stress. It was really hot and I craved one, made that call and drank it.”

“And you drank the whole thing?” His soft eyes are back and you feel a little foolish for thinking that he could have green eyes, not when the dark brown suits him so much.

“Yes and vomited right away. Still, it was worth the shot.” You smile and for a fraction of time, he smiles too.

He doesn’t call right after and neither shows up at the grief support group. You still draw him, but from memory, the last time you watched as he strolled your street it was three months ago. Something about his grief seems too personal and you feel awkward invading that space, instead, every Wednesday at 8 am you find another thing to do. It isn’t as easy as it sounds, ignoring his handsome profile and the lilacs on his hands, but you allow his privacy. 

The only reminder of your favorite habit is the sketchbook at the table and the fresh lilacs decorating your balcony.

Time goes by slowly and too fast, the weight of your mom still at your back as the life surrounding you goes on its course. You almost forget about him until a Wednesday morning, 8 am sharp, your phone chimes and you pick up at the first beep.

“I can’t eat pancakes. I hate pancakes, but she loved it.” He softly says and you stop everything to listen.

“You made from scratch or store-bought?” You phrased it like it is an important question. He hums back on the phone.

“Store-bought, don’t know how to make the batch. She straight up bought only the mix.”

“Would you eat with her, despite not liking it?” Your hand slides the paper, creating his silhouette line after line.

“Yes.” He simply answered, as if it was the most common question in the world.

“What are you waiting for? Take a bite.” 

And he does. The chewing sound from the other side fills the phone, your hand keeps drawing him in his overgrown hair, almost as if you could see the scene right before your eyes.

“So, was it worthed?” You ask looking at the draw as he finishes his plate.

“Still taste disgusting.” He soft replies after a second, you snort and he laughs. The sound is the most delicious thing you’ve ever heard. next chapter

#joel miller #tlou fanfiction #joel miller fic #joel miller x original character #joel miller x reader #joel miller fanfiction #joel miller x f!reader #joel miller x you #pedro pascal #pedro pascal fic #pedro pascal fanfic #the last of us #the last of us hbo #wednesday series

[tip-top-cloud-surfer]

To Be a Man - Hangman

Pairing: Hangman / Wife!OC (Sophie)

Word Count: 2.2k

This work, all my works, and my entire blog are 18+ Only

Warnings: Secret Marriage; Non-Traditional Family Dynamics; Mentioned Death of Minor OCs; Marriage of Convenience/Necessity; Mentions of Type 1 Diabetes; Third Person POV, Named OC kids and Wife, No Physical Descriptions of Any OCs

Summary: Hangman is married. And it’s no one else’s business.

Prologue Part 2 Part 3

Master List

A.N. Disclaimer - I don’t have Type 1 diabetes and so this is purely based off of a little research and what I’ve seen my friends with Type 1 do.

“You’re married!?”

Hangman turned around at the accusation to find the rest of the Daggers, save for Coyote, who he was talking to before they were so rudely interrupted, staring at him like he had grown a second head. He scoffed and rolled his eyes, not sure why it was any of their business.  

“Yeah, what’s it to you?”

“Who the hell are you married to?” Rooster asked, earning a condescending smirk from Hangman.

“My wife.”

“Well, no shit Sherlock.”

“Where’s your wedding ring then?” Payback questioned, leaning on the table to inspect Hangman’s left hand. “I’ve never seen you wear one around.”

“It’s on my dog tags, dipshits,” Hangman replied, pulling out the chain to show them, even though he didn’t have to do that. “That a crime?”

“Why do you flirt with other women then?” Bob inquired, sharing a look with Phoenix. “Two women gave you their numbers last night alone.”

“Did you see me calling either one of them?”

“Well . . . no, we didn’t, but—”

“—When did you get married?” Phoenix intervened, tilting her chin up and narrowing her eyes a bit. “And where is she?”

“Two years ago. And she’s driving here right now,” Hangman stated, checking his watch. Pulling out his phone, he looked up his wife’s location before turning back to the Daggers. “She’s about five minutes away, if you want to be specific.”

“She’s staying here with you?”

“For a while, yeah. Like anyone else’s spouse would,” Hangman retorted, getting a bit annoyed with all of the questions. “Why?”

“Well, we’ve got to meet Mrs. Seresin,” Rooster drawled, folding his arms across his chest. “Since we’ve heard so much about her.”

“Do you even have a picture of her?” Fanboy questioned, causing Hangman to shoot him an annoyed look.

“Yes.”

“Well, are you going to show it to us?”

“No,” Hangman snorted, shaking his head. “No, I’m not.”

The Daggers continued to list of questions that Hangman half-answered, half-gave bullshit responses, before Hangman spotted a familiar silver car rolling into the lot. Ignoring the Daggers, he set his drink down and got up from his seat, slipping around the railings on the back porch of the Hard Deck to greet his wife. Coyote was about to take a sip of his drink when he found five sets of eyes trained on him.

“I’m not telling you guys anything,” Coyote stated, shaking his head. “They’ll be here in five seconds.”

“So, you knew the whole time that Hangman was married?” Payback questioned, causing Coyote to nod in return. “And you never thought to mention that?”

“Not my business to tell.”

“Jake!” a shrill voice that definitely belonged to a little kid broke through the air.

The Daggers all quickly pivoted from Coyote to the boardwalk where a girl, probably around six, sprinted down the wooden path. Hangman picked up his pace and scooped her into his arms, lifting her off the ground effortlessly. And if the Daggers weren’t confused and befuddled before at Hangman’s personal life, they sure were now.

“He’s a dad!?”

“What the hell is he doing with a kid!? This is Hangman we’re talking about, right?”

“She called him Jake, dumbasses,” Phoenix pointed out, though she watched the interaction closely. “What kid calls their dad by their first name?”

Hangman kept walking with the girl in his arms, chatting excitedly with her. Then another kid, a boy probably three or four years old, jumped up onto the boardwalk and raced towards Hangman as well. The Daggers grew even more confused. Hangman leaned over and scooped him up like he weighed nothing, pressing a kiss to the side of the boy’s head.

A woman finally stepped out from in between two cars and pulled Jake in for a tight hug, which he tried to return as best he could with two kids in his arms. The Daggers watched their interaction like hawks but gave each other confused looks when the woman, who they presumed was Jake’s wife, pulled away with just a kiss pressed to his cheek.

“That’s his wife, right?” Rooster asked Coyote, who nodded. “They’re not that affectionate?”

“Maybe five strangers staring at them makes them a little uncomfortable,” Coyote suggested, taking a sip from his beer.

Hangman eventually led his family to the back of the Hard Deck, dreading the conversation that awaited him. Jake’s wife glanced up at the Daggers, who were clearly waiting for them, before turning to Jake. Nudging him gently with her hip, she jerked her head in the direction of his squad.

“Did you tell them anything?”

“Nope,” Jake replied, shaking his head. “Not a single thing.”

The family of four made their way up to the back deck. Setting Leila on the ground and taking her hand as they walked up the stairs, Hangman finally turned to face the stunned and even more curious Daggers. Leila hid a bit behind his leg, always a bit shy around strangers, but he rested a hand on her shoulder to remind her that he was there and that it was all alright.

“Everyone, this is my family. Family, these are the Daggers,” Hangman introduced, half-assed, earning an immediate poke in the side from his wife. Gritting his teeth slightly, Hangman restarted. “Daggers, this is Leila and this is Tyler and this is my wife, Sophie”

After Hangman introduced her, Sophie waved politely in greeting to the Daggers, who awkwardly waved back to her. Withholding an eyeroll, Hangman started on the introductions in the other direction.

“Guys, that’s Bob, Phoenix, Rooster, Fanboy, Payback, and you already know Coyote,” Hangman listed off, pointing at each Dagger as he spoke.

“Javy!” Leila called, running over to greet him.

“Hey, Firecracker,” Coyote joked, picking Leila up and setting her on the stool that Hangman had been sitting on before.

From there, the awkwardness slowly dissipated. Very slowly, but it did dissipate just a bit. Leila and Tyler were running around on the back deck, laughing and stretching their legs after the long car ride down from Lemoore. Hangman had switched his beer for a water and returned from inside the bar with a drink for his wife, whose order he knew from heart.

They were in the middle of a conversation, though Hangman thought that it was bordering on an interrogation with some of the other Daggers when Sophie’s phone started to buzz with a weird ringtone. In an instant, Jake turned to where Leila and Tyler were playing.

“Tyler, come over here,” he called, causing them to stop.

Hangman picked up his wife’s phone and tapped it, causing Tyler to pout. Tyler begrudgingly trudged over to where Jake and Sophie were sitting and Jake quickly scooped him up and sat him on his lap. Meanwhile, Sophie had been rifling around in her purse, pulling out a separate bag.

“Fruit snacks or the granola bar?” his wife asked Tyler, holding out both items.

Tyler quickly leaned over and grabbed the fruit snacks before turning around to hand them to Hangman. Taking them without hesitation or delay, Hangman ripped the package open and poured the fruit snacks into his hand for Tyler, who started to slowly eat them one by one. The other Daggers seemed a bit confused, though Bob instantly recognized the situation.

“He’s Type 1?” Bob guessed, causing Sophie to nod sadly.

“Yes, he is,” she replied, checking her phone again. She showed Jake her screen, causing him to encourage Tyler to eat the remaining fruit snacks in his hand, before turning back to Bob. “You know someone with Type 1?”

“No, my dad has Type 2. My sister has the same set up on her phone,” Bob explained, causing Jake’s wife to nod slowly.

Tyler seemed a bit upset, though resigned to his situation, but Hangman did his best to try and make it enjoyable for him. Teasing Tyler for his choice in fruit snacks, hiding them and pretending to find them in random spots, and other very un-Hangman-like actions that caused most of the Daggers to grow even more confused at the situation, Hangman blocked all of that out and just focused on Tyler.

“Alright, just hang on for a second, bud,” Jake told Tyler, who clearly wanted to play again.

After they were sure that Tyler’s glucose levels were stable, Hangman set Tyler back on his own two feet. Leila, who had been chatting loudly with Coyote and Fanboy, let out a shriek and started to run after her brother again as if nothing had happened to disturb them in the first place.

“How long have you known that he has it?” Rooster asked, watching Leila and Tyler play.

“About two years now,” Sophie explained, folding her arms underneath her as she rested them on the picnic table. “He was only a couple months old when his doctor suspected something. Took some time to get an official diagnosis.”

“He doesn’t seem to let it get him down,” Payback commented, watching Tyler laugh and run around Coyote.

“No, he doesn’t,” Sophie replied with a soft smile. “He’s like my sister.”

“Your sister has Type 1 too?”

“No . . . she didn’t,” Sophie stated softly, her tone earning a few confused looks.

“Leila and Tyler are her niece and nephew,” Hangman supplied, gently resting the outside of his thigh against his wife’s own to remind her that he was there for her.

“My sister and her husband died a few years ago,” Sophie continued quietly, shifting a bit in her seat. “I got custody after they passed and after Jake and I got married, he adopted them.”

And suddenly all of the pieces were starting to fall into place.

Leila eventually came running over, asking if they could go down to the beach. Sophie got up to take them down herself, not trusting two kids who grew up in desert territory to know anything about ocean water safety. And when they were gone, all eyes fell on Hangman. After a long, drawn out sigh, he slowly narrowed his eyes at his squad mates.

“If any of you fuckers even think about going to the brass about it,” Hangman vowed, pointing menacingly over at the gathered Daggers.

“Dude, no one here is looking to take insulin from a little kid,” Fanboy stated quietly.

It wasn’t exactly uncommon for service members to get married for the benefits. And hell, you would have had to have been a completely selfish, heartless, brown-nosing government lapdog to try and get someone in trouble for making sure that a kid with a treatable condition lived happily without bankrupting his family.

“How did you meet your wife then? You knew her before the kids’ parents died?”

“Yeah. We were in a long term . . . situation-ship at the time,” Hangman recalled, earning familiar looks from his teammates. “And she told me that it was a lot to handle and she didn’t expect me to hang around, especially because I was deployed at the time. I came back home to visit her and saw how stressed she looked—she was crying, Tyler was still in the hospital at that point, Leila was barely talking . . .” Jake trailed off, a dark expression coming over his face. “I didn’t think. I just told her to marry me and I’d get it figured out. And I did. They live up with me in Lemoore now.”

“And you guys have an open relationship?” Rooster guessed, earning a sharp glare from Hangman immediately.

“No,” Jake replied bluntly.

“Not even a little?” Rooster asked, alluding to Hangman’s flirtatious personality.

“No,” Hangman stated, folding his arms in front of him. “We’re not.”

“But you’re not in love, are you?”

“That’s complicated,” Jake responded, loosening his posture a bit sheepishly.

“Yes, they are,” Coyote called back, earning a look from Hangman.

“Yes, they are what?” Sophie called out, strolling forward with Leila and a soaked Tyler beside her.

“What happened?” Jake asked, standing up from the table.

“Leila thought that it would be funny to push her brother into the ocean,” Sophie returned, shooting her niece a look. “She thought wrong.”

“He kept pulling on me!” Leila whined, stomping her foot on the ground. “I told him to stop! And he didn’t listen!”

“Well, that’s no reason to try to drown him. Go, sit on the bench right there. Now,” she ordered, causing Leila to huff but follow her order.

“I’ll take him,” Jake offered, walking forward to grab a soaked Tyler from his spot next to Sophie. “Come on, Ty, let’s get you dry.”

Jake reached out his hand for the keys, which his wife handed over without even a look in his direction. It was that smooth, that natural. Jake held Tyler, who had started to shiver despite the warmth, in his arms, not caring in the slightest that some of the ocean water was now soaking his own clothes. Coyote seemed rather amused at the shocked expressions on his teammate’s faces, which Jake blatantly ignored as he strolled away.

“What?” Sophie asked, spotting their confused expressions.

“Nothing,” they all echoed back to her.

Prologue Part 2 Part 3

#top gun fanfiction #top gun maverick #top gun: maverick #top gun #tgm #tgm fanfiction #jake hangman seresin #jake seresin #hangman fic #jake hangman fic #hangman seresin #hangman top gun #hangman fluff #jake hangman seresin x oc #jake seresin fic #jake seresin x oc #jake seresin fanfiction #jake seresin imagine #hangman x oc #hangman fanfiction #top gun hangman #hangman

[neowinestainedress]

rock, paper, scissors

title: rock, paper, scissors

pairing: suh johnny x jeong jaehyun x lee jeno x na jaemin x fem!oc/reader (no name used, written in third person) 

genre: smut, basically pwp, best friends!au

summary: five friends rent a house together for a few weeks to enjoy summer like they used to do when they were younger, thinking that nothing could change their friendship. But teasing leads to pent-up tension and tension leads to problems. Problems that can’t be fixed by playing ‘rock, paper, scissors’ like when they were young.

warnings: smut, sexual tension, implied masturbation, unprotected sex, fivesome, (not discussed) dom/sub dynamics, fingering (f), rimming (f), oral (m), double penetration, spit roasting, rough sex, dirty talk, degradation, praise, minor choking, anal sex (f receiving), spitting, light hair pulling, size kink, multiple orgasms, overstimulation, minor orgasm control, minor dumbification, (hard) dom!johnny, dom!jaehyun, (hard) dom!jeno, dom!jaemin, sub!oc/reader, filth just pure filth. 

words: 11.765k

a/n: the 4J smut nobody asked for is here. I think I struggle writing things with no emotions so this one was pretty much a challenge for me, but I hope it’s not too bad and you’ll enjoy it. I made it sound deep in the summary but the ‘problems’ are just them being horny. Let me know what you think with comments, reblogs or asks. ♡

taglist: @wooyoung4eva @jenoxygen @sunshinedhyuck @kundann @jaeymark

They had no idea if she was doing it on purpose, but the more they stared at her, the more they couldn’t get what the hell had happened in over a year. 

When she had to move out of town for a job opportunity and they stopped seeing her, they were still used to a pretty innocent woman that would always get shy at their sexual jokes or, most of the time, don’t get them at all. But the woman in front of them was a completely changed person. And none of them expected these two weeks together, locked in the same house, to be this hard. 

“This was exactly what we needed,” she exclaimed as she faced the balcony of their rented house, looking at the view in front of her, a drink Johnny just made in hand and a big floppy hat covering her from the sun. 

“Most definitely,” Jeno replied from behind, lounging on a sunbed with one arm behind his head, forcing his eyes, hidden behind sunglasses, to drift away from her barely covered ass and stare at the view – like he could give two shits about the sea and the beach in front of them. 

“We should go to the beach again,” she said, turning around, resting her elbows on the railing, and looking at all of her friends with a smile on her face. “We’ve spent these first two days locked in.” 

“It’s hot,” Jaemin replied, “I don’t get why you want to go down to the beach when we have a pool right here.” 

“You’re so lazy,” she huffed, waving him off but then moving to sit between him and Jaehyun, wiggling her ass to fit between them, pushing their open legs close so she could squeeze in. “Why don’t you like going there?” 

He snickered, shaking his head and trying not to pay attention to the way her skin was rubbing against his. “Too many people. You know I hate crowds.” 

“But the sea is funnier,” she whined, turning around, pouting at him, leaning forward to give him big doe eyes to convince him to go with her.

And Jaemin wouldn’t have given up easily if only his eyes didn’t fall on her chest, pressed up and half exposed by the top of the skimpy white bikini. “I’ll come,” he replied just to make her move from that position before he could get a hard-on in front of everybody. 

“See, I can always convince you,” she cheered, not noticing anything, not even the way the other three, in the meanwhile, were rather lost in the other curves of her body. 

What the hell were they thinking about? They all mentally cursed, shaking themselves out of their thoughts, some of them feeling more guilty and some others just to keep their morality in line but their reason was the same. They couldn’t screw up fifteen years of friendship for being horny. They all cherished her and their friendship. So they came up with the silent mutual agreement of not ruining everything for sex. The nights there were young, and there were so many hot women they could get, it was just a matter of time before she would’ve slipped back into the back of their minds and simply stayed as their dearest friend. 

But they were wrong. 

Jeno was the first one to lose his mind. He just couldn’t help to look at her in another way when she wasn’t doing anything to don’t make him fall to his knee and wait for the right moment to have her. 

“You’ll get skin cancer if you don’t protect yourself,” she said while her hands moved on his toned body – beautifully toned body, she would’ve said – trying not to get lost on it for too long, wondering since when he had so many muscles.

Jeno mumbled a brief response while he tried to keep his eyes open so his horny-dumb-brain wouldn’t have started to imagine her hands somewhere else on his body. “’kay, are you done?” He asked when she reached too close to his lap, standing up and smiling awkwardly. 

“Yes, but can you help me too?” She pouted, passing him the bottle of sunscreen and tilting her head to the side. 

“On your body?” He asked, scratching his neck. 

“Yeah, silly, where else would you want to apply it?” 

“Sure,” he replied, pulling his lips in a tight line. “Turn around and lay,” he said, waiting for her to take place in his old position. He had to take a deep breath before squeezing the cold cream in his hands and starting to apply it on her shoulders, her back, hardly skipping her round perky ass, and down to the back of her thighs and legs. 

“Oh,” she moaned, “you’re really good with your hands, you know?”  

“Oh, sure I am,” he replied with a smug smirk without realizing, “I mean,” he coughed, “I give pretty good massages.” 

“Uhm, uhm,” she moaned again, eyes closed and lips parted. And Jeno had to gather all the will in his body to don’t move her bikini to the side and fuck her right there to see how even prettier she would’ve looked if those sounds came from even more pleasure. 

“Turn around,” he said, shaking his head as if to scroll those thoughts out of his mind. “Do you also need my help here?” 

“Yeah, I covered your whole body, do the same.” 

“Fine,” he sighed, splashing more cream in his hands and doing the same in the front of her body. “Why are you laughing?” He asked, while his hands were on her stomach, her soft smooth skin making him want to taste so much more than just that.

“Nothing,” she said but her lips were still turned up in a playful grin while she stared at his hesitant hands. 

“Okay, come on, now, what’s this?” 

“As soon as I complimented you, your hands started shaking,” she smiled, sitting up once he was done, and brushing a strand of long black-greenish hair behind his ear. “You’re cute,” she said before leaving a kiss on top of his nose and getting up, running outside to reach the others in the pool. 

Jeno stood there for a while, frozen, before he sighed loudly, shaking his head. “She’s going to make me go insane.” 

The second one to realize that the plan wasn’t working was Johnny. 

He wasn’t used to hearing her pick up all his dirty jokes, so he kept making them and every time got taken aback when she would, not only flirt back, but sometimes, even start it all. 

“Could you please stop taking so much space on the couch?” She whined, trying to fit next to him as they tried to choose a movie to watch. 

“Hey, you know I’m a big guy,” he replied with a smirk on his face and winking, expecting her to squirm and hide in embarrassment. 

“Do I?” She replied, looking at him in the eyes, smirking back. “You know, I’m a visual learner,” she joked, clicking her tongue before turning her attention to the tv again, chuckling lowly as she could still see his stunned expression and feel how his body tensed up. 

But Johnny tried to hide it, and cleared his throat, squeezing in his seat to leave her more room.

Or when they were in the kitchen, trying to fit the frozen mixture of a cake they decided to prepare into a form. 

“It will never fit,” Johnny groaned, throwing his head back, and shaking his red-brown hair out of his face since his hands were dirty.

“Don’t you know how to be patient?” She asked, coming to his side, taking the dough in her hands and placing it on a plate for a moment. “If it doesn’t slide in,” she said, voice lower than usual as she dirtied her fingers with butter, “it means that you have to get it nice and wet and slippery,” she explained while her fingers ran over the sides of the silicone form before she gently squeezed the dough inside. “See, how easy it is to make it fit if you take it slow?” 

Johnny hummed, looking away from her fingers, trying to scroll out of his mind the thought of those fingers being inside of her as he watched how she would take care of herself. “Thanks, I guess,” he babbled, forcing a smile on his face and trying to avoid her teasing gaze. 

She shrugged, patting his shoulder with her clean hand. “A shame, by the way, I always imagined you as someone that knew how to take it slow,” she winked, before leaving the kitchen. 

Oh, he thought that too before her.

The third to give up was Jaemin. For him, it was the constant touches. The way her hands always found a way on his skin, or in his hair, touching him as if her life depended on it. 

When he played video games she always found an excuse to sit on his lap, unknowingly – he wasn’t so sure about that – grinding against him. Or when he wanted to enjoy the peace of the evening and read something outside of the porch she was always there, snuggling close to him. But worsts of it all were their days at the beach.

“Your skin is so soft,” she cooed one day while they were sitting under the umbrella and her head was resting against his shoulder, her hands gently caressing his arm. 

“Thanks,” he stuttered, not really knowing what to say, too afraid that, if said more, not-so-appropriate sounds would’ve rolled out of his mouth. Why was she touching him like this? Why was her leg so pressed against his? Wasn’t she hot?  And why the hell she never asked the others to go with her? Did she like making him suffer?

She chuckled, moving one hand up under his chin and turning his face toward hers. “Thank you for always coming with me here,” she purred, letting her hand trail up and reach his dark-brown hair, ruffling them playfully. “You’re the best.”

Jaemin swallowed, trying to keep his eyes on hers and not on her soft, plump lips and don’t lean in to kiss her, smiling lightly and thinking that fuck, this was going to be harder than he imagined. 

The last one to fall was Jaehyun. He couldn’t really get why she insisted so much to train with him, she had never been a gym girl anyway. But now she was always with him for the few hours he would spend in the small gym inside the house. And he hated it. 

He hated the way the pink leggings wrapped around her body. He hated the way her tits bounced when she ran and he could hardly take his eyes off of them. He hated the moans that rolled past her lips when she had to push her body past its limits. And he hated himself because he wasn’t one that typically lost control, so why was he losing it with his best friend?

“I don’t get why you’re always here,” he whispered one time, chuckling, shaking his head as he kept his focus on the weights he was cleaning. Pretending they were much more interesting than her passing a cloth over her body to dry the sweat.

“To stay fit?” She replied as if it was obvious.

“Yeah, but why? Since when?” 

“Why not? I’m with you. I don’t have all those other judgmental people I’d have in a real gym and I get to see muscles anyway,” she winked, patting his head. 

Jaehyun stuttered something under his breath before lifting his head to stare at her. “My muscles?” 

“Oh, please, don’t act as if you’re not aware of the body you carry around.” 

He smirked, lowering his head to hide the blush. “And you like the body I carry around?” 

She giggled, stealing a white towel close to his seat, and wrapping it around her shoulder before walking to the door. “I love it,” she winked and then sent him a flying kiss that he didn’t even try to catch, too caught up in this. Too caught up in her.

“Tell me you’re seeing her,” Jeno cried out in exasperation when he barged into Johnny’s room, knowing he would’ve found all of them there. She went out to buy something, giving them a bit of time to breathe.

They quirked a brow, putting down their phones to look at him. “Her as in our best friend or another girl that’s making you lose your mind?” Johnny asked, throwing his head back to look at him.

Jeno sighed, running a hand in his hair and pulling. “Yes, congratulations, you got it. Of course, it’s her, who else could it be?” 

“And? What do you want us to do?” Jaemin asked, twirling in the chair, resting his head against his fist. 

“I don’t know, but she either calms down or I can’t promise you I’ll be able to resist much more,” he huffed. “She’s doing it on purpose, she’s never been like this.” 

“Or maybe you never wanted to look at her like that,” Jaehyun said, shrugging. 

“Please, don’t tell me that a year ago she was the same,” he groaned. “Have you ever seen her wear those skimpy dresses? Wear so much jewellery? Do her hair so nicely? Or be so touchy all the time?” 

“She had never been ugly, though,” Jaemin said, “Jae’s right.” 

Jeno rolled his eyes. “It’s not about being ugly but she was so fucking innocent and naïve and now she’s… she’s always the one flirting,” he snapped. “With everybody.” 

Johnny laughed. “Yeah, you mad because it’s not you.” 

“Shut the hell up,” he retorted. “I was trying to be nice because I know you want her just as well, and you know she wouldn’t say no to me. So… how are we going to do this?” 

“Are we planning this?” Jaemin asked, furrowing his brows. “You’re making it sound like a bank robber.” 

“Well, it could be even more dangerous than that.” 

A few days passed as they tried to test the waters, sneaking around her, trying to flirt back and tease her just as much without slamming her against a wall or any surface they had near them. But nothing really happened, just her usual jokes, and light touches and then she would walk away as if nothing happened, leaving them high and dry. 

Their plan was to try to push her harder until she would’ve picked one of them and they couldn’t get mad at each other or fight over who should’ve tried their luck. But nothing. Not even a glimpse of intention of going all way with one of them. Just a long and gruelling torture made of teasings and sexual tension that wasn’t leading them anywhere.

“I’m telling you, I can’t do this tonight,” Jeno warned them, sipping on a cocktail as he leaned back against ‘their table’. They were at a beach party near their rented house, organised by some people they met there but it wasn’t like any of them could really care about the party when they had her. 

She was going around collecting drinks, and men, dancing on everybody, letting way too many foreign hands roam on her body and – worst of it all – she wouldn’t miss the chance to look and smirk at them when they casually faced the same way. 

“You say it every time and you didn’t fuck her yet,” Jaehyun sang, raising a brow before sipping from his drink too, eyes never leaving her body swinging in a man’s arms. 

Jeno glared at him and then clenched the glass tighter. “It’s not like I can force her, can I? And didn’t we have a pact between us? I’m just being nice with you guys because I’m more than sure that with some more talking she would fuck me with no hesitation.” 

“Would she?” Jaemin asked, peaking his head forward to look at him. “Because it looks like we’re all in the same boat.” 

“Then what do we do?” Johnny asked, shaking his hair out of his face, winking at her when their eyes met. 

“Man, I don’t know, if I had a solution to this problem I would’ve solved it,” Jeno replied. 

“Hey, guys.” There she was, chest panting, sweat pearling her skin, hair flying lightly in the sea breeze, and a bright smile on her face. A vision that made them all stop in their tracks and get lost in the shape of her body. “Guys?” 

“Yeah, uhm, yeah,” they replied, shaking their heads and swallowing, trying to hide the embarrassment of being caught, and luckily for them, she simply chuckled. “The drinks are already getting to your head, aren’t they? You really can’t take it anymore.” 

They all snickered and then Jeno replied, “no, we seriously can’t take it anymore.” 

“I’m getting bored here,” she pouted, squeezing in between Jeno and Johnny and wrapping her arms around their shoulders. “Can we go home and play something just between us?” 

“Bored? It seems like you are having so much fun, there,” Jaehyun joked, and Jeno hit his stomach with his elbow, making him groan in pain. 

“We can surely go home, now, as soon as possible,” he replied, pulling her away from the others.

“I need my shoes,” she whined, trying to push back. 

“Johnny will get them for you, we just have to walk on the sand, come on, now,” he insisted. “Want me to carry you? Want to see how strong I am?” 

The other rolled their eyes hearing his words and watching as he carried her to their place, their giggles fading in the distance.

“We better hurry before he seriously talks her through getting dicked down,” Jaehyun warned them. 

Once they were all inside, they decided to play beer pong, which wasn’t even beer. But whatever mix of alcohol they had put in was good. 

“So the winners get what?” Jaemin asked, reaching the other side of the table to stay at Johnny’s side to get ready to play.

“Nothing,” she replied, “it’s just for fun, why would you want to win something?”

“Then who loses should get a penalty, at least,” Jeno said. “Come on, there’s no fun with no penalties.”

“Swapping clothes with someone else,” she shrugged, grabbing the ping-pong ball.

“Hey, what’s the fun in that? If they lose they would wear your dress and you wear their big shirt and jeans?”

She chuckled, “What? Sad you won’t be able to stare at my body anymore?” 

Jeno coughed while the others laughed under their teeth. “I don’t stare at your body,” he retorted with an obvious lie. “But fine, clothes swapping for the losers.”

So they finally started playing, their team leading with 5-3 out of 10 points against Johnny and Jaemin, but they never reached the final game. She wasn’t dumb, she knew what was going on, they had never been so clingy, and it surely wasn’t because she needed help to play the game. Jaehyun and Jeno’s hands rested on her back for most of the time and Johnny and Jaemin were concentrated on everything but where to aim the ball.

“Would you please stop looking at me like this?” She asked, turning around to lean against the table, arms crossed in front of her chest, not throwing the ball but placing it in one of the glasses. 

“Like what?” Jeno asked, playing dumb.

She snickered, fanning her hair back, and curling her lips in a grin. “Like you want to fuck me.”

“What?” They all gasped, pretending to be shocked, shaking their heads, Johnny and Jaemin moving around the table to walk toward them. 

She scoffed, chuckling under her breath. “Seriously? What? I see the way you look at me,” she started saying, getting up and walking around them. “The way you’ve been looking at me since this holiday started,” she smirked, one finger running up and down Jeno and Jaemin’s bicep before she walked behind them and reached Johnny and Jaehyun, making them hold their breath in a weird mix of sexual tension and fear of having screwed their friendship up. “You know,” she whispered, walking away and sitting on the couch, legs crossed together and upper body leaning against the backrest, “I thought at least one of you had enough guts to man up and come ask me.” 

At the tease, Jaemin snapped, turning to stare at her better. “You think we’re not brave enough? 

She shrugged, moving her hair to the side. “Well, you’re there, drooling over me, jacking off thinking of me,” she smirked, eyes glinting at Jaemin that turned red in a second, so she heard him that day... “and yet…” she whispered in a huff, throwing her head back. 

“Fine,” Jeno snapped, turning to the boys, “if this is how you want it, we’re picking who gets to fuck you. Rock, paper, scissors.”

She laughed in disbelief. “You’re picking who gets to fuck me with that game? Like when we were kids and you had to choose who played my husband?”

“Yeah, why do you think none of us made the first move?” Jaehyun replied, hand still clenched in a fist, ready to play the game. “It’s a bro thing, it wouldn’t have been fair to us and to you. We were waiting for you to pick but you never made the first move either.”

A smile crossed her face before she turned it into a smirk, “Pick?” She asked, twirling a strand of hair in her finger. “Who says I want to pick?” 

They chuckled awkwardly, looking at each other and then at her to see if she was playing, if they were all in the same perverted and weird dream or if this was a just as sick and perverted reality. And when it turned out to be the latter, they all laughed. 

“Yeah, fine, nice joke, but you’re still not as funny as me,” Johnny said. 

She laughed too. “You seriously are so dumb at picking up signals,” she huffed, one hand moving to trail on her thigh, moving the dress up so slowly it felt like torture but none of them seemed to find the strength to move, it was like there was an invisible wall separating them. “I thought I was the loser, innocent one of our group but turns out that having fucked half of the earth’s population doesn’t make you smart either when it comes to this.” 

“Hey! We didn’t fuck half of the population,” Jaemin complained. “And you are the innocent one… well,” he gulped, getting lost in the way her fingers were tracing her body, moving up to her stomach, to her breast, to her neck and then back down, “you were.” 

She snickered, “So? Do I have to put on a show for you to get somewhere? Because apparently, the ones I’ve been putting on weren’t enough to make you grow some balls and confront me.” 

“Okay, you need to stop this,” Jeno warned, getting mad at the teasing. “We respect you.” 

“Yeah, and we’re friends and we’ve known each other for so long, we wiped your tears when those silly boys broke up with you because you weren’t ready to have sex,” she mocked, rolling her eyes back. “And I don’t care. I think we’ve crossed that line for a little while now, don’t you think so?” 

They looked at each other with a frown but then hummed. 

“So let’s cross it even physically,” she proposed, leaning forward. “If I have to regret something I want to regret the best fuck of my life, not some mental games that are bringing me no pleasure at all.” 

“Okay, is this seriously you, or did somebody exchange you?” Johnny asked, raising a brow, still not fully believing her words.

“People can change so much over a year, babe,” she winked. “But since you look so taken aback, I have a pretty long list of people at the beach that wouldn’t say no…” 

“No!” Jeno shouted, walking to her in a second and pushing her back down on the couch. “I don’t care what they say but I am not losing this chance with you tonight.” 

“Good,” she smirked. “And you? Want to play rock, paper, scissors with your morals and then decided what to do?” 

“Fuck it, I know what I want to do,” Jaehyun exclaimed, placing the cup down and walking toward her. 

“You two?” She asked one last time, smiling at the last two friends. And with just one last look at each other, they were all over her, lips hungrily kissing her skin and hands touching every inch of her body with much more vigor than in the past days. 

“Oh, wow,” she chuckled, “you truly were holding back these days.” 

“Shut up,” Jeno scolded against her ear. “You are such a fucking tease, you knew what you were putting us through.” 

She only giggled at his words, enjoying the others’ greedy attention. “As if you weren’t enjoying that.” 

“We hated that,” Johnny retorted. “Maybe we should teach you a little lesson. Give you a taste of your own medicine.” 

“I don’t think you’ll be able to do that,” she teased but got immediately shut down when Jeno kissed her harshly and tugged her hair, making her lips part in the kiss to let out a low whimper.

“Let us show you, dear,” he replied when he pulled away, standing up to get rid of his shirt. Her eyes trailed on his body, watching his muscles flex and having to close her slightly parted mouth to don’t drool at the sight. “Yeah, you love this, don’t you?” He teased, kneeling next to her again. “You could’ve had me much before if only you didn’t put up with your stupid teasing game.” 

“My stupid –”

“Shhh,” he shut her up with a finger on her lips, “no talking back, it’s useless.” 

She gulped, but couldn’t help to let a small smile creep on her face at this unknown side of him. She heard stories about Jeno in bed but well, they were best friends, she never dug too deep into them and now… 

“Look at you,” Jaehyun said in awe, “you really do love this.” He was a little taken aback, no matter how much he wanted her, he knew her, well, he thought he knew her, and he wasn’t so sure she could keep up with their rhythms and kinks but apparently, he was wrong. 

Johnny snickered when she hummed, smiling at Jaehyun. “Should we test just how much you love this?” He asked, letting his hands travel under her dress and gripping the elastic of the panties to slowly pull them down. “Should we see how far we can push you before it gets too much for our little, innocent best friend?” 

She smirked, humming lowly. “Or how much of me you can take.” 

“You’re still not done with your stupid games, I see,” Jeno huffed. “Well, we’ll put an end to this soon,” he said before unexpectedly lifting her up, making her gasp. “My bedroom, now,” he ordered to the others as he carried her upstairs on his shoulder. 

When they reached the bedroom, Jeno was on top of her, his hand already teasing her wet pussy while his lips kept tormenting the skin of her neck. 

“You’re so greedy,” Jaemin complained, jumping on the bed next to her, kissing her too, “you want everything to yourself.” 

“Not my fault you can’t keep up with me,” Jeno replied, pulling away and spreading her legs more. “And look at you,” he teased, fingers smearing her wetness and playing with her clit, “so wet already? Have you been thinking about us all night while you let those other men touch you?”

She hummed against Jaemin’s lips and gasped lowly when she felt Johnny’s lips wrap around her hard nipple.  

“You’re so pretty,” Jaehyun whispered, touching her thigh, but his eyes were stilled where Jeno’s fingers were still moving on her. 

“And excited,” Jeno added when two fingers slipped into her with ease. “Fuck, you’re so hot.” 

She whined, pulling away from Jaemin’s kiss. “Stop teasing, just fuck me already.” 

A burst of deep laughter rolled out of their lips, “Desperate little thing,” Johnny mocked. “I thought we had to get you nice and wet and slippery,” he whispered close to her ear, marking every word, reminding her what she had told him before, making her lift her gaze on him and suppress a moan when Jaehyun’s fingers slipped past her entrance too. “See,” he chuckled darkly, pulling away from her, “you have a lot to take, babe. You don’t want to break, right?” 

“I won’t break,” she bit back, huffing, head rolling back when Jeno and Jaehyun’s fingers started stretching her more, rubbing so against her walls.

“No, you won’t,” Jaemin whispered, kissing her chest and then biting down on her nipple, eliciting a soundless gasp from her. “You wanted this. Wanted all of us.” 

“Yeah, you won’t back down, right? Realize we’re more than you can take a run away like a scared little kitty?” Jeno teased, pushing one of her legs further down so it touched the mattress completely, exposing her more, making her whine as shame crept up. 

“Please, nobody believes you’re shy after all you’ve done these past days,” Jaehyun teased, moving her hands out of her face. 

“You can’t feel embarrassed with us, right?” Johnny cooed, caressing her cheek, blocking her wrists over her head so Jaehyun could focus completely on fingering her. “Your best friends. We’ve seen you grow,” he pouted while his free hand moved down to reach her clit, the stimulation so intense that she couldn’t find the strength to answer, making them all giggle lowly. 

“Just started and she’s already wrecked. This ‘s going to be fun,” Jeno whispered but she didn’t even get it, too caught up in the first orgasm approaching. She might’ve not been innocent like she was before – or like they thought she was before – but she had never done anything like this, four men all over her, touching, kissing, licking every inch of her body. A fantasy she wanted to try for so long but never imagined she would have the chance to, especially not with her best friends. 

“’M close,” she moaned, one hand wrapping around Jaemin’s hair while he was still pressed against her boobs sucking her nipple, and the other leaving marks on Johnny’s thigh. 

“Oh, already?” Jeno cooed, stilling his movements inside of her, making Jaehyun follow. 

“No, please, please, don’t stop. I’ve been good, why would you – shit – oh,” she gasped when they picked up again, laughing at her. 

“Just wanted to hear you beg,” Jeno replied, shrugging. “You know, you always demand in our friendship, always so good at making us do whatever you want.” 

“Can you please make me come?” She pleaded, fluttering her eyes at them. 

“See, why you never think about us?” Johnny huffed, quickening the pace on her sensitive clit, and then pushing two fingers into her mouth, freeing her wrists. “That’s better,” he cooed, “stop whining and just take what we give you.” 

She hummed around his digits, tightening the hold around Jaemin that never stopped torturing her nipples, and squirming under the other three’s hands. 

“Just because I can’t wait to be inside of you,” Jeno said, fingers pumping in and out harder, filling her when Jaehyun’s were out and vice versa, never stopping stimulating her, “come for us, come on,” he ordered. 

The first orgasm hit her hard, leaving her shaking already, and once she came down from the high they gave her no time to breathe. 

As soon as Johnny pulled his fingers out of her mouth, Jeno pushed his, covered in her cum, in, forcing them down her throat. “Taste yourself, babe,” he ordered. “Like this, so good.” 

“Are you ready for the real thing?” Jaemin asked, getting rid of all his clothes, thick cock springing out of his boxer, red tip leaking pre-cum, making her mouth part in awe. 

“Are you going to fuck me first?” 

“Want to complain even about that?” Jeno tsked, shaking his head. 

“I wasn’t complaining,” she glared at him, sitting up and crawling to Jaemin to kiss him.

“Want to fuck your ass,” he confessed against her lips, making her pull away and chuckle nervously as she stared at him with a furrow on her face.

“Oh, princess has never been fucked in the ass before,” Johnny laughed at her expression. 

“No, I…” she started mumbling but Jaemin kissed her again, hands travelling down to cup her full ass and squeeze it in his palms, eliciting a low moan from her. 

“It will feel good, baby,” he cooed. “You trust me, right? You know Nana won’t ever hurt you.” The sweet – yet, condescending – tone of his voice made the other chuckle at his attempt to ease her into this but she found it normal, it was a usual Jaemin trick, it couldn’t have led to anything dangerous, right? Anyway, she did trust him and she was willing to try. 

“Just… prep me,” she whimpered when his fingers grazed her sensitive rim. 

A big proud smile crept on Jaemin’s face. “Fuck, I love you,” he exclaimed before signaling her to lay on the bed with her face against the mattress. 

She closed her eyes when the lewd sound of his spit hitting her rim resonated in the room and his lips started working on her, moving with precision and yet eating her out as if she was his last meal. But the sweet gestures stopped soon when his finger slipped past her rim. 

“You’re so tight, baby,” he cooed, his sweet tone hiding the devilish smirk on his face as he watched her body hardly taking him. “Need a little help?” 

She hummed, nodding, cheeks brushing against the sheets, and eyes squeezed as she tried to relax around his finger, pain mixing with pleasure. It wasn’t that terrible but it still was a weird feeling.

“I don’t think we have lube,” Jeno said before spitting on her ass loudly. 

“Ugh,” she moaned, thighs squeezing together and breath faltering. 

“Oh,” he whispered, lifting a brow, “you like that…” 

“You’re so fucking filthy,” Jaehyun mocked, watching the scene with curios eyes.

“Well, since you love this so much, it will work,” Jaemin shrugged, moving his finger faster inside of her when another string of saliva rolled out of Jeno’s mouth.  

“No, what… what if it’ll hurt?” She managed to breathe out, shaking her head, trying to lift her body up from the mattress but Johnny held her right in place, pushing her further down. 

“It won’t hurt, alright? You can take it,” he said, caressing her back. “But… since it’s you, I’ll go see if I have some.” 

“Tha-thank you,” she mumbled, voice dying in her throat when Jaemin added another finger after he spat on her again. 

“Oh, please, it’s not hurting, your pussy is dripping on the sheets. You love this.” 

“Mmph, yeah, but – but – fuck – you’re big, so big,” she breathed out, hiding her face in the pillows from embarrassment. 

“Oh, little red riding hood got herself in trouble?” Jeno teased, caressing her hair gently before tugging at it and turning her face to the side again. “Fell into the big bad wolf trap imagining you could take it?” 

“I can take it,” she retorted, knitting her brows but only making him snicker. 

“Whining a little too much for someone that’s sure about her abilities.” 

She simply groaned, closing her eyes again and trying to relax even more around Jaemin’s fingers. 

“Here it is,” Johnny exclaimed, entering the room again and throwing the bottle at Jeno that caught it swiftly.

“I liked the spit better but anyway,” Jeno shrugged before squirting a big amount of the liquid on her rim. 

A louder moan rolled out of her lips when the cold liquid dripped inside her and Jaemin’s fingers started moving faster now that there was no friction against her insides. 

“And man, move, she’s ready,” Jeno huffed impatiently.  

“Can you please have some patience? She loves this so much, just look at her,” Jaemin replied, eyes drifting from him to the string of cum that was drooling out of her pussy and the way her ass was clenching around his three fingers. 

“Yes, and imagine how much she’d love your cock,” he replied with a fake kind smile on his face. “Tell him, babe,” he ordered, tugging her hair again and arching her back, “tell him how badly you need your pretty ass to be filled with his big cock.”

The nasty words and the condescending tone made her insides twitch, pussy clenching around nothing and mouth opening wider. “Need you,” she mumbled, trying to open her eyes and tilt her head more to look at Jaemin. 

Johnny chuckled, pushing her upper body up completely, cupping her cheeks and squeezing tight. “Tell him exactly what you need. We know you’re not innocent so stop fucking pretending.” 

She gulped, falling on her hands when Johnny let go without a warning. “Jaem,” she whispered, looking past her shoulders, “need your – mmh – need your cock to fuck my ass, please,” she moaned, nails gripping the sheets when he stuffed his thumb into her wet pussy, cutting the air out of her lungs. “Please, please, fuck me hard. Jaemin, please.” 

He smirked, a low snicker rolling past his lips. “As you wish, princess,” he replied, pulling out, watching as her holes clenched around nothing before he grabbed his dick and lined it against her swollen hole. He leaned against her back, lips brushing against her ear, “but just know I won’t be treating you as one.” He smirked before bottoming out completely, thick dick stretching her more than his three fingers did, making her gasp and collapse against the mattress again, body going limp under him. 

“Fuck,” he groaned, throwing his head back and holding her waist tight, “feels so good.” 

“Wait, wait,” she mumbled, trying to stand on her hands again but Jeno pushed her down another time. “No, the condom, the – fuck – Jaemin.” 

“We’re clean,” Jeno replied instead. “We told you we care for you. Do you really want to see the test results, now?” 

She opened her mouth to speak, mumbling something, “You – fuck – you checked yourself?” She asked in disbelief, honestly, it was good but fuck, how desperate they were? How much were they rooting for this to happen? 

“Of course, we did,” Jaehyun replied. “Your safeness comes first.” 

“You’re – shit – fuck, okay, I guess, I…” 

“I think you should just shut up now and relax,” Jaemin shut her midway, slapping her ass cheek. “You said you trusted us. You do trust us, right?” 

She nodded, trapping her lower lip between her teeth when he started hitting deeper and faster. 

“Tell us that you do,” Jaehyun said, tapping her cheek gently. “Come on.” 

“I – I trust you,” she cried, “I trust you – mmph – so much.” 

“Good girl,” Johnny cooed. “But I need to feel you, too.” 

Her eyes snapped open at his words. “N-now?” 

A deep chuckle rumbled in his chest. “What, baby? Too much? You didn’t even see me, yet.” 

She snorted, squirming under Jaemin, “I don’t need to see you, fuck.” 

“Oh, those rumors spread fast, John,” Jeno joked, hitting him playfully. 

Johnny chuckled, “Don’t you want to find out if the rumors are true, baby?” 

She nodded, pretty much mindlessly, too caught up in the way Jaemin’s cock was rubbing against her walls and hitting so well inside of her making her head spin miles per hour to really think about what she was putting herself into. 

When Johnny freed himself out of his briefs she gasped loudly before her eyes shily reached up to meet his eyes, a proud, evil, smirk on his handsome face. That was always his favourite part. 

“Don’t worry, honey,” he purred, fingers under her chin to close her open mouth, “I know how to use it, it won’t hurt.” 

She nodded, not really sure about it… if it was only him, maybe… but it was two at the same time, and Jaemin wasn’t that much smaller than him so… Though she didn’t have much time to dwell on it. 

“Can you stop fucking her for a second and let me get under her?” Johnny huffed, glaring at Jaemin that unwillingly stopped his movements and waited for Johnny to manhandle her and position himself under her. 

“Fuck, Jaemin’s right, your cunt is dripping,” he moaned when he pushed his fat tip against her hole, feeling how wet she was. “Love getting your tiny hole fucked hard by him?” He teased, grabbing her face and forcing her to look at him. 

“Ye-yeah, he’s good,” she moaned, hands struggling to stand against something to keep her body up and don’t fall forward against him at any hard stroke of Jaemin; he didn’t waste time picking up again as soon as Johnny slipped under her body.

“Come on, fuck her too, need to see how tighter – fuck – she can get,” the younger moaned, stopping once again just to enjoy to the fullest the feeling of her insides getting filled more by Johnny’s dick, too. 

Her head fell forward when Johnny eased into her, mouth agape feeling like she was being split in two, no matter how wet she was. 

“Fuck, too much,” she cried out, squeezing her eyes shut and digging her nails into Johnny’s biceps. 

“Shh, you’re doing good,” he calmed her, starting to pull out slowly, “taking us so well.” 

She wept, whining mindlessly and soon after all the mercy disappeared as they both started fucking her again, sending her so close to the edge. 

“I think, I…” she gasped, “I think I’m gonna come.” 

“Oh, wasn’t that too much?” Jeno mocked. 

“But ‘s good, so good.” 

A mocking laugh came out of Johnny’s lips while his hand wrapped around her cheeks, thumb brushing against her parted lips. “A little bit pathetic don’t you think so?” Her teary eyes stared back at him before her head rolled back and another orgasm hit when they both slammed hard inside of her, knocking the air out of her lungs. 

Jeno snickered, an amused smirk on his face. “They barely started fucking you and you already came? Seriously?” 

“You’re having fun, baby, aren’t you?” Jaehyun teased, fingers grazing her neck to turn her toward him. 

“Yeah,” she breathed out, nails digging into Johnny’s shoulders, where she was trying to keep the balance, and ass bouncing back against Jaemin, making him groan at the sight. 

“Wanted this – fuck – for so long,” Jaemin moaned, hips slapping against her flesh, nails leaving marks on the skin of her waist. “Dreamed about your ass every fucking day.”

“I – I don’t think I can – mhh – last more.” The words struggled to come out of her mouth as her body slumped forward against Johnny. 

“I’m sure you can,” Jeno replied, lifting her upper body up again, holding her in place. “Are you tired already?” 

“I – I don’t know.” She truly had no idea what she felt, it was good but surely tiring too, she wasn’t used to anything like this. 

“Oh, poor baby,” he sang with a mocking tone, fingers brushing against her burning cheeks. “I’m sure you just need a little bit of support more. Jaehyun, come here.” 

“What?” The other asked, unwillingly drifting his eyes from where Johnny and Jaemin were fucking her, and stopping the strokes on his cock. 

“You heard me, come here,” he replied, rolling his eyes. “Our little girl needs another one.” 

“A-another one?” She asked, eyes widening, words choking her as she felt the other two deeper than ever inside of her. 

“I thought you were dying to get with her,” Jaehyun said in confusion, but he stopped caring about his friend as soon as he moved around and got to see her wrecked face and her tits bounce back and forth at every thrust. 

“I have special plans,” Jeno smirked, leaving a soft – and yet somehow scary – kiss on her cheek. 

“Come here,” her attention was soon back on Jaehyun that was tapping his fingers against her cheek, hard dick in hand and a terrible urge to fuck her too written in his eyes. “Open your mouth,” he ordered and she followed, lips parting even more and tongue rolling out, making him groan loudly. “Fuck, you’re so hot.” 

“And dirty,” Johnny muttered through gritted teeth, trying to don’t come just at the lewd scene in front of his eyes, but watching her welcome all Jaehyun’s length inside of her as her eyes rolled back, was making it all too difficult. Especially considering how hot and tight her pussy was and how hard she was squeezing him. 

“Yeah, just like that,” Jaehyun moaned when he bottomed against her throat. “Can you suck me or do I have to fuck that pretty little face?” He asked, naturally receiving no answer since she couldn’t talk, already struggling to don’t choke on his thick cock while the other two kept pushing her toward him. 

“Just fuck her face,” Jeno said. “I told you she needs more support.” 

When Jaehyun held her up by the hair and started thrusting into her mouth she felt her body go limp into their hold. The pleasure of being stimulated everywhere got to her mind, making her body shake into their holds and her brain shut down little by little. 

“You’re so good at this, I can’t believe you fooled us for so long,” Jeno said, smacking her ass, making her whimper.

“Do it again,” Jaemin moaned, rolling his head back when she clenched around him, “she loves it.”

“Oh, does she?" Jeno asked, smirking as his hand met her ass again in a loud smack. “Look at you,” he teased with a mocking tone, his big hand still roaming on the skin of her ass, “never thought I’d say this, but you look so pretty stuffed with cocks. Don’t you?” He teased, moving his hand to touch her spit-streaked chin where Jaehyun was still slamming against, and smearing the mess around instead of wiping it away. 

“She does,” Johnny moaned, nails digging deeper into the flesh of her waist. “So vulnerable for us.”

“Fuck, I’m – mmh – not gonna last long,” Jaemin groaned, “you’re squeezing me so tight. You love this, don’t you? Love having your little ass fucked hard. Shit, never thought you’d let me."

She gasped hard, struggling to breathe again when Jaehyun pulled out of her mouth. 

“Has anybody ever fucked you here before?” Jaemin asked.

She shook her head, “N-no, nobody.”

“Fuck, baby, your first time? And you’re already so good.”

She wanted to answer something but Jaehyun started fucking her mouth once again, making her eyes roll back in pleasure as she could feel another orgasm approach.

“Shit,” Johnny moaned, hips slamming hard up against her, “you’re so cock drunk, look at you. So fucked up I bet you have nothing in your smart brain, do you?”

She whimpered around Jaehyun’s length and they all laughed.

“It’s fine baby, it’s fine,” Johnny cooed, caressing her cheek before his hand slipped down, wrapping around her neck. “You don’t have to think. You just have to let go and trust us.”

She hummed, walls clenching harder when he kept pressing and then letting go around her neck, alternating the flow of air, making her head get even dizzier.

“Fuck, just like this,” Jaehyun moaned when her eyes opened and were rolled back, the view enough to make him groan harder. “Just look pretty for us. Our pretty, precious baby.”

“A pretty babydoll,” Jeno added. “A pretty toy that loves being filled and used by her best friends.”

“Yeah, right, keep clenching. We’re gonna come,” Johnny moaned when, listening to Jeno’s words, her cunt throbbed tighter around them.

She splurted and coughed when her mouth was free once again.

"Come fast, I’m not gonna come in her mouth,” Jaehyun urged, wiping away all the drool on her face. 

“Keep – keep going,” she moaned, head falling forward against Johnny’s shoulder. “Feels so good.”

“Gonna fill you up,” Jaemin moaned, grabbing her hair and pushing her flat against his chest. “Do you want it, baby? Do you want my cum?”

“Yeah – yeah, please...”

“Fuck, fuck, fuck, shit,” he cursed, hips slapping more messily against her, “take it, take all my – mmph – my cum,” Jaemin groaned, coming inside of her, cum filling her and triggering her orgasm too. 

“Shit,” Johnny moaned, rolling his head back when due to the orgasm she squeezed more around him, “take mine too, come on, want to see you – fuck – full of us.” 

Louder moans came out of her mouth when he emptied into her too and they kept fucking her shallowly, stimulating her more. 

“God, so good,” Jaemin moaned, pulling out, groaning when his cum dripped out of her gaping ass and fell onto the bedsheets. “Are you okay?” He asked, making circles on the burning skin of her butt with his thumb. 

“She is,” Jaehyun huffed, moving to take his place, not giving her time to answer. Not like she could answer anyway, feeling too drowsy. “Come on, you had your fun.” 

“Damn, why are yall so greedy,” he huffed, stepping to the side to leave him room to fuck her too. 

She could barely process anything, mind still dazed by the pleasure, and high on the way she was being moved around, Johnny lifting her up to move from underneath her and Jaehyun turning her over. 

“Want to fuck you too,” Jaehyun said, spreading her legs more, making more cum spill out of her. “Fuck,” he groaned, throwing his head back when he sank into her, “your mouth’s good but this – shit – is so much better.” 

She moaned, throwing her head back when he grabbed her ankles and placed them on his shoulders. “Too much,” she mumbled, eyes opening to find a teasing smirk on Jeno’s face over her. 

“Did they break you already?” He asked, mocking her. 

“No, mhh, he’s too big.” The words barely came out as her eyes squeezed shut, chest panting as he stretched her out more. 

“I’m sure you can take it,” Jaehyun said, starting to move faster and leaning closer to her, pressing her legs closer to her chest, reaching even deeper. 

“I’m gonna come,” she screamed, hearing them snicker. 

“So soon again?” Johnny teased, placing two fingers under her chin and turning her face around so she could look at him. 

“Ye-yeah, ‘s too good,” she replied before feeling another orgasm ripple through her when Jaehyun’s fingers started moving on her clit. Her hips bucked up whether it was because of the pleasure or because she felt it was getting too much, she had no idea. 

“Shit,” Jaehyun cursed. “Gonna fill you up, you feel too good, fuck,” he groaned before his orgasm hit too, hips faltering and stilling inside of her as he came hard. “Lord,” he exhaled, smiling and pulling out, “you did so good,” he praised, moving her hair back before standing up and leaving her there, trying to catch her breath, not even understanding anymore who was touching her. 

She laid against the mattress, already feeling worn out, when Jeno’s strong hands turned her over. 

“Hi, pretty,” he cooed, a sadist smirk on his face as he hovered over her, brushing her hair away from her face, “my turn, now.” 

“I – I don’t think I can,” she mumbled, lashes fluttering as her watery eyes adjusted the focus on him. 

“Oh, no, honey, I’m sure you’re not so tired,” he said, slipping two fingers inside her sopping wet hole, making her moan, and squeeze her thighs together, but Jeno let out a mocking laugh and pushed them apart again. “I know you destroy yourself when you’re alone, right?” He whispered, leaving small bites on her neck and collarbones while his fingers kept moving in and out. “That’s what you do when you don’t answer our calls, too busy destroying this pretty pussy, yeah? Convincing yourself that your fingers are enough, but you need so much more.”

She shook her head, chest panting harder. “N-no.”

“Oh, noo?” He mocked. “I’m sure you give yourself so many orgasms you can take me,” he growled, pulling his fingers out of her and then turning her around swiftly, making her gasp in surprise. “What, doll? You love my arms, you asked so many questions about my muscles and now you get to see what this body does,” he whispered against her ear, pushing her upper body close to the edge of the bed and arching her back up, right knee planting against the mattress at one side and left feet on the other.  

“Oh, fuck,” she cried when he entered her in one go. “I – I thought you were – shit,” she whimpered when he started moving right away, “mmph, thought you were going to fuck my –”  

“Your cunt?” He asked, snickering, tugging her hair again. “I thought that too, dreamed about being inside your pussy for a week straight,” he moaned, the other hand holding tight on her waist, “but Jaemin’s right, your ass is – fuck – too amazing to be left alone.” 

“Don’t act like you’re not all stretched out already,” Johnny said, thumb wiping away the drool that was dripping from her open mouth. “Jaemin fucked you so well before. You loved it, didn’t you?” 

She hummed, shaking her head in approval but barely registering his words, just mumbling ‘yes’ and pleas as Jeno’s hips slammed hard against her ass and his hand held her up by the hair. 

“Your ass feels so good,” he moaned, pulling her cheeks apart, her head rolled down if only Johnny didn’t force her up again and cupped her chin to kiss her rough, “but I’m not going to miss out on how your pussy feels,” he said and, before she could even realize he had pulled out, he was already inside of her again, but this time in her pussy. 

She mumbled something against Johnny’s lips but Jeno only snorted and said, “it’s fine, honey, it’s fine. Shit, you feel too good. Are all your holes so good? Are you so good at everything?” 

“Need to try her mouth,” Jaemin said. “Want to be filled to the brim again, umh?” 

“Look at how desperate you are,” Johnny mocked when, as soon as he moved to the side and Jaemin stood in front of her, she pushed her tongue out and looked up at him with pleading eyes. “So eager to give us what we want, you’re such a kind girl.” 

“Or maybe she’s just a cock-addict,” Jeno mocked, slapping her ass, making her moan louder. “Is that what you are? Is that what you truly are behind the – fuck – nice, innocent, virgin girl?” 

She whimpered, arching her ass more and trying to fuck back against him but another smack followed. “Answer me when I ask you a question.” 

“Mhh, yes – fuck – that’s what I am,” she moaned, throwing her head back, giving Jaemin the chance to block her there as he grabbed a fistful of her hair and tapped the tip of his cock against her lips.

“Open up, come on, I know you know how to use that pretty mouth,” Jaemin said, moaning loudly when she opened up and he eased in, feeling the warmth of her mouth. 

Her mind almost blanked out when they found a rhythm and pushed in and out of her alternately. Jeno’s thrusts were slightly rougher, while Jaemin seemed almost gentle but still made sure to go all the way in and make her gag at every stroke. 

“Say it again,” Jeno ordered, pulling out again and thrusting back into her other hole. “Who are you?”

Jaemin pulled out, making her drool some spit and cough, “I – I’m a cock addict,” she almost screamed when his thrusts started getting faster. “That’s all I am.” 

“Aww, she’s turning into a whimpering mess,” Jaehyun cooed when she started sucking Jaemin again since he let her more freedom and enjoyed the way her cheeks hollowed and her eyes tried to stay open and look up at him. 

“That’s right,” Jeno moaned, slipping out again to penetrate her cunt again. “She’s being such a perfect doll for us. No thoughts left in that pretty smart brain of yours, fuck,” he groaned. “Just full of how it – fuck – how good it feels to be filled from both ends.” 

“You’re sucking so well,” Jaemin praised, moving the hair out of her face and pulling out to let her breathe. “You got Johnny and Jaehyun so hard again, how are you going to fix their little problem another time, umh? You’ll suck their cocks too? Or will let them fill you up again?” 

Although he didn’t give her time to answer all those questions, not that she would’ve had a single coherent thought in her brain anyway. Jeno was too good at what he was doing. As wrong and dirty and humiliating that back and forth from her holes was, she found it incredibly hot, and the alternation of stimulation was driving her insane. And sucking on Jaemin’s heavy cock while Johnny and Jaehyun jacked off made her turn into a mess even more. 

“Wonna wome,” she mumbled, choking on Jaemin’s dick. 

“Do it, I’m so curious to see how many orgasms we’ll drag out of you tonight,” Jeno chuckled with a smirk on his face. “Will we beat your personal record, sweetie?” 

She didn’t answer, only let the pleasure run through her, feeling her body get limper, and if only Jeno’s arm didn’t wrap around her waist and held her up, she would’ve collapsed on the mattress. 

“Stay here, I’ve got you,” Jeno whispered, pushing her upper body up and holding her close to his toned chest. 

“Hey, I didn’t come,” Jaemin whined. 

“I didn’t come either and this is my turn,” Jeno barked back, one hand wrapping around her neck without pressing and the other reaching front to play with her clit. 

“No, no, I’m – don’t – shit,” she whimpered, squirming under his touch, body trembling at the stimulation.

“I told you,” he whispered in her ear, “I’ve got you, and I won’t stop until you fall apart in my hands.” 

A louder moan escaped her throat at his words, head rolling back and body going slack against him. Doing nothing but taking everything he had to give. 

“You can still use your hands, right, pretty?” Johnny asked, jumping on the bed next to them and grabbing her hand, wrapping it around his cock. 

“Do they seriously have to guide you?” Jeno mocked when, instead of moving her hands on their dicks, she let them move their hands up and down. “You can do so much better than that,” he encouraged, kissing her neck. “Weren’t you the one always bragging about being able to – fuck – do so many things at once?” 

“Yeah, you were so good at studying so many subjects at once, what happened? Can’t use your brain anymore?” Johnny taunted not holding her hand anymore, waiting for her to do it herself and she did, slowly, feeling her arms too tired for that. 

“Just like that,” Jaemin moaned, rolling his head back before bringing his eyes back on her. “Look at you, do you even know what you’re doing, baby?” 

“How can she when I’m fucking her so well,” Jeno said, quickening the pace on her clit, making her let out broken moans. “Can’t take it anymore, right babe?” 

“N-no, I – ugh,” she gave up, not even knowing what to say or what to ask for. It was overwhelming having so many men around to take care of. 

“I think she wants more attention on her, isn’t it?” Jaehyun teased, kneeling in front of her to kiss her, her body pressed between his and Jeno’s while Johnny and Jaemin’s hands started roaming on it. She was surrounded, overwhelmed, hands falling slack against her side as she let herself get lulled in bliss and attention. Feeling powerless, but not in a scary way. It was good, weirdly comfortable considering what they were doing.

“Greed has always been one of your flaws,” Johnny grinned, seeing how more relaxed she had gotten as soon as they were all over her, once again not having to do anything but just take. 

“Our spoiled girl,” Jaemin teased, grinning before he started sucking her nipple. 

But before the moment could last much longer she was bent over again, three cocks in front of her face while her best friends begged her silently to take care of their aching boners. 

“You can use your mouth just for a bit,” Jaehyun said, caressing her hair. “Just til we come.” 

“Yeah, we promise,” Johnny cooed, “just until we come.” 

So she parted her lips and took Jaemin into her mouth, lifting her eyes and relaxing her jaw, telling him to don’t let her do all the job but use her mouth like a fleshlight. Fuck her until they needed to because she had no more strength to suck and do anything else. 

And it didn’t take long for him to come in her mouth. “Swallow everything,” he ordered, pulling out to aim at her tongue. “Shit, so good.” And Jaehyun followed soon after, he couldn’t even just stand and watch, he had to jack off as he patiently – not so patiently –waited and after a few minutes inside her warm mouth, he came, spilling down her throat. Johnny barely felt what her mouth felt like, not really caring about it, but just wanting to make a mess on her face. “Close your eyes – fuck – and tongue out,” he ordered and she obeyed, pink muscle sticking out of her swollen lips waiting for his cum that landed everywhere but there basically, painting her face.

“God, finally stopped fucking her mouth,” Jeno groaned, pulling her body up again and kissing her harshly, “want to have her all to myself.”

“That’s not how it works, though,” Jaehyun reminded him. 

“You already had your turn, now it’s mine,” he remarked. “Tell them, baby. Tell them you need my cock, come on.” 

She felt her body give up and her voice falter but then whispered, “wa-want his cock, need his cock.” 

“You heard her,” he groaned, pulling out and flipping her with her back against her mattress, pushing her body back in the middle of the bed. “Come here, legs on my shoulders,” he ordered and when she couldn’t lift them up he grabbed her ankles and placed them on his shoulders. “And take my cock,” he groaned when he pushed back inside her pussy. “That’s it. You’re tired, kitty? This is so much more than you bargained for, isn’t it? But you don’t – fuck – you don’t have to do anything but just stay right there and take it.” 

She rolled her head back, head getting dizzier at the way his cock was dragging along her insides and his words, his tone, his hands tormenting every inch of her skin until they moved to grab her wrists and pin them over her head. 

“Look at the mess you are,” he panted, “there’s nothing of the well-behaved girl we knew, just a – fuck – pretty brainless cum drunk doll,” he cooed, squeezing her cheeks, forcing her lips to part. “That’s it, keep your mouth open for me,” he ordered before spitting on her tongue. “Swallow it,” he groaned. “That’s it, good girl. Good fucking girl.” A smirk curled his lips when he felt the way her cunt tightened around him. “You love this so much,” he exhaled between surprise and amusement. “Can’t – fuck – can’t believe we thought you were some kind of virgin vanilla silly girl but noo,” he mocked, forcing her mouth open again by grabbing her chin, “you are a filthy mess,” another blob of spit dripped from his mouth to her. “Don’t swallow,” he ordered, making her furrow as she tried to obey. “Right, keep it there,” he cooed. “Don’t pretend you don’t like this, you’re squeezing me.” 

“You’re so gross,” Johnny taunted from the side, getting lost in the sight of her open mouth, and the way her chest was panting so hard while Jeno slammed into her mercilessly. “Yeah, you are,” he hummed when she shook her head. “Bet this is not even everything that turns you on, there’s so much more filth in your little brain.” 

“Do you want to swallow it? Want to answer him – fuck – and tell him all you like?” Jeno taunted, smirking when she nodded swiftly. “Do it, swallow my spit.” 

“I – Jeno, I can’t take it anymore,” she cried as soon as she could talk again, nails dragging into his back. “No more, I can’t.” 

“You didn’t answer him,” he scolded. “Why don’t you tell us another one of your fantasies?” 

She groaned, feeling her body burn up in shame and the orgasm keeping her right over the edge. “I don’t – fuck – I don’t have any.” 

“Oh, so lying to us again,” he huffed, squeezing her wrists tighter and stopping thrusting into her. “Just one or I won’t let you come.” 

“No,” she screamed, eyes snapping open. 

“Come on, angel,” Jaemin whispered, caressing her burning cheek, “just one little thing you’d like to try.” 

Her lips quivered, looking into his eyes. “I don’t – I don’t have them.” 

“Then what was all of this, tonight?” Johnny asked, snickering, hand moving on her clit. “Let’s see if this will make something pop up into your empty brain.” 

“No – no – I can’t come,” she cried, writhing under both him and Jeno. 

“Then tell us something,” Jaehyun said. “We can make all your dreams come true.” 

“I – I – Johnny, please,” she wept, breath faltering and walls squeezing around Jeno’s still cock, making her curse inside her brain. 

“You don’t want me to come in your mouth, right? Then stop pretending to be so innocent and tell us what you like,” Jeno ordered, dragging out of her and then slamming inside again. “Oh, and you still can’t come until you tell us.” 

“I – I like – I like what we did,” she whimpered, biting her lips when Johnny’s fingers started moving faster on her clit. 

“No, no, honey, you’re not getting away with it,” Johnny sang, clicking his tongue.

She whined louder, trying to think about anything and then one thing came into her mind. “I – I think – I want to be – mmph – I want to be filmed,” she whimpered, voice dropping low with every word feeling shame take over once again. 

They chortled, looking at each other with a smirk. 

“You want to be filmed?” Jaemin asked incredulously, watching as she tried to hide her face but with no success since Jeno was still holding her hands together. 

“You don’t even want us to take normal pictures of yourself but you want to be filmed during sex?” Jaehyun asked, eyebrow raised in a furrow but lips curled in a small amused smirk.

“I told you she was hiding so many more secrets,” Johnny chuckled, even if he knew that wasn’t the wildest thing she was into. But who knew, maybe he would’ve had another chance to drag them out of her mind. 

“And do you like – fuck – taking videos on your own, princess?” Jeno teased, leaning in more, pressing her legs closer to her chest, seeing how she couldn’t hold it in anymore. 

“N – no,” she replied breathly, silently begging him to let her come when she found the courage to meet his eyes that were already staring at her. 

“No? Don’t set your phone up and use your ring light to get a perfect view of your dripping pussy?” 

“I’m sure she does,” Johnny replied instead, fingers still moving on her. “That’s why you never let us close to your phone.” 

“You don’t?” Jeno teased when she shook her head, denying it. “Maybe you should – fuck – and send them to us so we don’t – fuck – forget how good your pussy feels.” 

“Mhh,” she hummed mindlessly. “Can’t – can’t take it more, please, Jeno, please, let me – mmph – come.” 

“Come,” he said, he couldn’t hold it any longer either. “Yes, fuck, squeeze me just like that,” he moaned, going crazy at the way she was clenching around him as she came all over his cock, hips rolling against him and mouth falling open, pleasure getting so much in her head that no sounds came out of there.

“Shit, you do feel good,” he exhaled, leaning closer, resting his forehead against hers as his hips kept fucking in and out lazily riding their orgasms, cum filling her up, mixing with Johnny and Jaehyun’s. “You took us so well,” he whispered, kissing her lips more gently than before and freeing her wrists from his hold.  

“Pretty impressive for a first time,” Johnny chuckled, pulling away from her to stand up from the bed and stretch. 

“Fuck,” Jeno huffed, rolling next to her, after pulling out, making her cringe at the sensation of their cum dripping down her thighs. “That wasn’t on my do-to list when we planned this holiday.” 

“This wasn’t on any of our do-to lists,” Jaemin replied, brushing her hair back and leaving a peck on her lips. “You okay?” He asked, his sweet smile on his face again. 

She hummed, smiling weakly, and snuggling close to Jeno that opened his arms, hand caressing her scalp. “Yeah, but I need some water and a wet cloth to clean this mess you made... maybe some food if I find the strength to sit up.” 

“Who gets what?” Jaehyun asked, looking at the other two that were already up. 

Johnny and Jaemin looked at each other, grinning, “Rock, paper, scissors?” 

Thank you for reading, please let me know what you think, feedback is always appreciated. For more support consider donating! ♡

part two: here

#nct fanfiction #johnny smut #jaehyun smut #jeno smut #jaemin smut #johnjae smut #nomin smut #suh johnny smut #jeong jaehyun smut #lee jeno smut #na jaemin smut #nct 127 smut #nct dream smut #nct scenarios

[reasonandempathy]

The weird radical/revolutionary politic larpers on this site are so allergic to political pragmatism I swear lmao. I am definitely left of the Democratic Party and I am certainly voting for Joe Biden in November. Not because I like him (I don’t). He is absolutely horrific on Gaza and that’s only the top (and priority considering there is a genocide going on there) of a list of complaints I have about him. I even voted uncommitted in my state’s presidential primary (the Pennsylvania one; I had to write it in) to protest. However, I’m still thinking pragmatically. Trump has said things that make me credibly think he will be worse on Gaza (insane that being worse on Gaza than Biden is possible but it is unfortunately), and that’s only the tip of the iceberg. Project 2025, the potential for him to appoint more deeply conservative justices, more of his aggressively screwing over poor and middle class people with his tax policies. And does anyone else remember the spike in hate crimes after the race was called for him in 2016? Before he was even inaugurated? Whether people vote or not in November we will still have to deal with one of these two men in office come January unless all of the internet ancom larpers overthrow the government by then (doubt), so I’d rather deal with the one who will be marginally less bad and who didn’t try to overthrow the government. Can’t have your revolution if nobody’s alive cause you kept pushing off politically participating because there was no perfect option. 👍

Political pragmatist anon, sorry for ranting in your askbox but I feel like I lose brain cells watching these people talk. The other day I saw someone say Biden is bad because Roe v. Wade fell under his administration… even though the reason for that was Trump appointed justices. 💀 (2/2)

Fucking insane. Sincerely.

It's a completely, flatly binary choice for anyone with a brain stem and sincerity. It's distilled into the two below images:

Where all major third party candidates are even on the ballot

How many electoral votes the largest of those (green party, a.k.a. Jill Stein) would win if they won every single state they're on the ballot for.

They are literally, legally, incapable of winning the election. They are not on enough state ballots to win and Jill Stein would need to somehow win California and Texas to even "win" all the states they're on the ballot for. Which, again, would still not be enough to win the presidency and throw it to the currently existing Republican House of Representatives. Which would put Trump in office.

It's that straightforward. That simple. That BLARINGLY obvious to literally everyone except these people.

On the one hand you have:

Significant and continuous support for Israel and it's genocide

Record levels of pardons for low-level drug offenses

the gearing up of the strongest anti-trust regime since the early 20th century

the most aggressive NLRB I've seen in my lifetime, with massive wins and institutional changes to help workers

Including getting Rail strike workers a week of sick-leave that gets paid out at the end of the year, which is better than NYC and LA sick leave laws

Millions of people (not enough) getting student debt forgiveness

Some trillion dollars (not enough)of investment in renewable resources and infrastructure

Proposed taxes on unrealized capital gains (a.k.a. how billionaires never have any money but can still buy Kentucky, Iowa, and Twitter)

Effectively an end to overdraft fees

The explicit support of leftist world leaders like Lula de Silva. Who he has explicitly worked with to expand worker rights in South America.

Has capped (some, not enough, only a tiny amount really but it's something) some drug prices, including Insulin.

Reduced disability discrimination in medical treatment

Billions in additional national pre-k funding

Ending federal use of private prisons

Pushing bills to raise Social Security tax thresholds higher to help secure the General Fund

Increasing SSI benefits

and more

vs

Said Israel should just nuke Gaza and "get it over with"

Personally takes pride in and credit for getting Roe v Wade overturned

Is arguing in court that the President should be allowed to assassinate political rivals

Muslim Ban Bullshit, insistently

Actively damages our global standing and diplomatic efforts just by getting obsessed with having a Big Button

Implemented massive tax cuts on ich people, tax hikes on middle class and poor people, and actively wants to do it again

"Only wants to be a dictator for a little bit, guys, what's the big deal"

Is loudly publicly arguing that the US shouldn't honor its military alliances after-the-fact

Tore up an effective and substantial anti-nuclear-proliferation treaty with Iran

Had a DoEd that actively just refused to process student debt forgiveness applications that have been the law of the land for decades now

Has a long record of actively curtailing and weakening the NLRB and labor movement, including allowing managers to retaliate against workers, weakened workplace accommodation requirements for disabled people, and more

Rubber stamped a number of massive mergers building larger, more powerful top companies and increasing monopolistic practices

Fucking COVID Bullshit and hundreds of thousands of unnecessary deaths

Openly supporting fascists and wannabe-bootlicks ("Very fine people" being only the beginning of it

It's really not fucking close.

#biden #trump #gaza #palestine #politics #original content #union rights #realism #2024 election #jill stein #rfk jr #cornell west

[ruanais]

。。。 FOUR, NINE, THIRTEEN 。。。

• — { omnipresent. chapter one: }

• — {warnings : mentions of suicide, dark content, no nsfw but things that could be triggering, dazai :P , bad writing, reader curses a lot, maybe some typos, etc. etc.}

• — {special thanks to : silver for helping me write + plan the plot, thank u to red and kat for taking their time to beta read, and thank u to mai for also helping with the plot ! }

• — { tagging the people who expressed interest ! @settingssun | @silverbladexyz @cheriiyaya | @kxttqi | @riiwrites + comment under this post to be tagged ! }

THE FIRST TIME Dazai Osamu met you, it was midnight. he was just walking to a bar and you were on the edge of a bridge railing, dressed in a school uniform. probably from a prestigious high school and not more than 15, he guessed when he took a better look at you. 

it was raining a storm, Rain had soaked through your clothes, and your hair was drenched. Paired with the harsh wind, you must be freezing. 

You were looking down at the river, a rather far away look in your eyes as you were seemingly in a dilemma, weighing two choices and- 

oh. 

dazai had already got the gist of what you were about to do, yet made no motion whatsoever. still and silent as a shadow, even when you took in a sharp breath and stepped off, falling down to the river’s current

a splash and you were gone forever, leaving him alone on the bridge.

now he was blankly staring at where you were mere seconds ago. not caring to even move. rooted at where he was. but several questions ran through his mind at that moment.

did you notice him staring? 

it wasn’t any use thinking about it so he let it go. 

the second time he encountered you, he had heard a series of gunshots then quickly headed to there. you were already dead. shot by someone he couldn’t catch.

Obviously, he was surprised to see your face but quickly collected himself, called the police, and left. finding it suspicious but quickly brushing it off his mind as he had more urgent and important matters to take care of than the measly death of someone he didn’t know. 

the third time he saw you, you were crossing the street. a calico cat in your arms as you talked to it, petting its fur and a warm smile on your face. 

then, you turned your head and caught sight of him, you widened your eyes seemingly in recognition, but you had ran, almost as if you were trying to escape from him.

well, dazai had tried to chase after you. But in your haste, you had failed to look at the road. tires screeched and you got hit by a car. 

he had ran and reached out his hand to try and pull you away despite knowing it was futile. but it was too late. blood splattered on him, staining his hand. Not that he ever cared. 

the cat was unhurt though, somehow miraculously shielded by your body. its large eyes looking into his’s before letting out a small meow then ran away. leaving you on the ground. 

sirens cut through the deathly silence, medics quickly rushing out of an ambulance after a bystander called the police. arriving just a few minutes later.

He tsked, running his hand through his hair, and and slipped away from there, away from that street, never to return.

on the fourth time, he saw you again. now convinced that you were a special case, he had to find you before you were gone. 

but unfortunately, he was too late again. you were a member of an rival organisation, holding important information and so was captured, interrogated, then brutally killed by one of the executive’s ability. crimson red blood pooled around your corpse before he got a chance to talk to you. 

“she already told us what we needed to know already. it’s no use keeping her around.” was what ozaki said when he demanded an explanation. “best to kill them before they cause further trouble. Say, dazai, don’t tell me-?” she frowned, shooting him a small glare. sighing deeply when he shook his head no. 

“I have to say, she was quite pathetic. Immediately telling us everything when we threatened the lives of her subordinates… I overestimated her.” was what she said while walking away slowly disappearing into the darkness, leaving him alone in the dim room. 

it was strange, he had to admit. the fact that you died every time before he got the chance to talk to you was quite eerie. not that he could do anything about it. Then, he left you again, leaving his underlings to clean up the mess. 

it happened nine times more, but instead of seeing you directly, he saw it on the news or heard it from his acquaintances. looking at your picture, you looked different in every universe but you had the same features. just enough to be recognizable. 

…

He was in the agency now, a new member. And amazingly, in record time, he was already doppo kunikida’s worst nightmare. 

today was his third day. how boring was this? 

in short: indescribable.

he felt like a deer caught in a spotlight. Far too out of place. Dazai knew how to put on an act, one to cover his true intentions quite nicely. Not enough to fool edogawa, of course. But enough to fool everyone else. 

he had listened to what odasaku had told him, be someone who saves people. he did or tried, or it would be something that he would do later. Depends, really.

…maybe one of the reasons he decided to follow through with his friend’s words was to make himself feel better. From what though? 

the guilt of not being able to save you? Maybe not stopping you from dying on the first time you met? 

Impossible. he was known as the demon prodigy after all when he was back in the port mafia, famous for being someone who had no remorse for murdering hundreds or committing endless heinous crimes. 

How troublesome. Such emotions were an obstacle to his goals. 

He tried to get rid of it. ignoring the guilt that was eating his heart away helped only a bit. But distractions helped. A few bottles of sake and his guilt would leave him for a while. 

But maybe paired with the fact that he couldn’t help nor save sakunosuke oda only made it worse. 

guilt was annoying. Troublesome, a nuisance. just about anything that was negative, he thinks, leaning back in his seat and ignoring the reports he has to write. 

actually, all emotions were useless. Was what he thought, turning around and around. 

…come to think of it, he never saw you in this universe before. nor even heard of you. 

maybe you don’t even exist right now. 

which is weird. since you seem to pop up randomly in every universe he’s in. 

really, really, reallyyyyyyy suspicious- 

“Ow!” 

A book hit his head, snapping him out of his thoughts. 

“Get to work dazai!” 

ah yes, classic kunikida. Always and forever strict and doesn’t like fun. Why were all math teachers like that? oh. even former ones. all they do is yell, scream, scold, yep math is definitely ruining the minds of everyone.

“Fineeee…these are boring though… I’ll do it later….” he whines, laying his head on his desk, drawing random shapes with his finger on the light brown wooden table. 

“Just do your work already!” Kunikida yelled, clearly at his breaking point.

“Come onnnn kunikidaaaaa just let me have some funn~” 

“You can have fun after work is over-“ 

“Aaah! sorry I'm late!” 

The agency’s door bangs open, and a disheveled young woman appears.

you?

he automatically freezes, eyes widening as he feels a chill run down his spine, dazai did just a quick double check to see if his vision is finally failing him.

the same eye colour? check.

the same hair colour? check.

the same height? check.

check, check, check.

fuck

Was what Dazai thinks after mentally checking off everything. His eyebrows furrowing. it was getting even more suspicious. Normally, you would die before he got to interact with you, so isn't this practically giving him a chance to know about you? What the hell does it- does it even fucking make sense? 

obviously not. 

which…didn’t make things any easier. 

kunikida mutters something under his breath before marching towards you, ready to give out yet another lecture. “Now why were you late?!” 

“uhm…I had to work a longer shift?” you said, shifting from one foot to the other. “Uh…it also didn’t help that there were more customers than usual..?” you added, awkwardly smiling as you sweatdropped nervously. 

“how many times do I have to tell you to fix your schedule?!” kunikida practically screams at you. “This has been the 5th time this month!” he stomps his foot before sighing, walking back to his seat and sitting down before checking his watch; “see? Now you’ve made me 3 minutes behind!” he groans, but promptly pushes back up his eyeglasses and opens back his computer to work.

“It wasn’t my fault- oh! new member huh? hi. want meat buns anyone?” you raise up a paper bag of warm buns, waiting for their response. instantly, almost everyone in that room raises their hand up. Except for kunikida and dazai.

“…we need to save some for president and haruno though.” Yosano reminded you as she reached into the bag for one. “i bought another bag of them, it’s fine!” you reassured her, then walked towards dazai.

 “hey, you. Do you like meat buns?” you ask, before letting him having a chance to answer, you stuffed the whole bun into his mouth when you got the chance, “it’s good right?” ignoring the fact that he may be choking right now. But who cares when you have dr. yosano? 

“Yep!” he replies after a while when he finished the bun, putting on a charming smile, pausing for a few moments before adding something utterly ridiculous; “would you be interested in committing a double suici-?” 

“no.” you interrupted, cutting him off. hitting his head with a folder you took from kunikida’s desk. Not noticing the slight ouch he let out. “I’m far too young to die yet.” You declare, taking out a bun and apparently practically inhaling it in less than a minute.

“What’s your name by the way?” “Dazai Osamu.” “That’s a weird name.” You remark, placing back the folder. “Anyways, I’m [name].“

“no last name?” “[name]’s surname is a mystery to everyone. only the president and ranpo know it, but apparently they wont even give a hint.” Yosano yawned stretching her arms.

“But, if you successfully guess what is her last name, you get half the money in her purse!” A random staff member chimed in.

“shut up!” you huff, “and my last name isn’t that important anyways! Besides, I’m not paying anyone for guessing my last name correctly-“

“all of you shut up! We won’t ever get any work done at this rate! Dazai, focus on your damned reports! [name]! Help organise these folders!”

kunikida hollered, now practically spitting fire. Well, to avoid trouble, everyone got to work. Expect for dazai that is. Unfortunately, he was still lazing around until you threatened to tell the president of his tardiness.

“Who knew [name] could be so strict? you really wouldn’t know her from just 3 years ago.” yosano teases as you glare at her. “Let’s not talk about that time.” You cringe, tensing up at the memory.

“ehh? but you were so cute back then! now you’re just a boring adult…” the doctor sighs, “at least I can go out to drink with you now.” she added, browsing through grotesque pictures of victims’ deaths. “oooo now this looks good…” she mumbled, absorbed in choosing the next picture to hang in her room. 

“Well im glad that I changed.” you say as you pour some coffee into your cup. How the coffee machine got placed on your desk was a wonder but no one asked why, already used to your rather unusual actions.

“Mmm…pretty sure you’re the only one that feels like that.” 

…

“I swear to God I’m gonna dieeee…” you slump in your chair, frowning after a few hours passed. evening had arrived and it was just about 6:00PM. The sun was in the process of setting, a warm orange-reddish glow settled around the agency.

everyone was occupied with something; dazai with his beloved a guide to suicide book, you with your day dreaming, kunikida with his work, yosano with her pictures, the staff with their own things, and ranpo who finally arrived after buying his snacks and is now feasting on them.

“there’s more work for today. Good job everyone. Feel free to home and rest.” the president suddenly appears from from his office, a black cat and haruno following him close behind.

Fukuzawa Yukichi: the man responsible for creating the Armed Detective Agency. the cat sat down the floor, then stared up at the president, letting out a small ‘meow!’ earning a few “awwws” from the agency staff and members.

“goodness…that cat is cute…” you murmur, playing with a pen. “I’ll bet I’ll scare the shit outta them the second i try to go near there though. what a shame.” You sigh before picking up your phone, after hearing numerous pings, you quickly scrolled through them, then got up, took your bag and started out.

“well then, thank you all for the hard work and please excuse me for leaving before you. I’ll see you all tomorrow then. Also! president! There’s a bag of meat buns for you and haruno! enjoy!” You waved, opened the door, and left. stretching your arms when you felt like you finally tasted the freedom of after finishing work.

you soon arrived at the train station, buying a ticket then entered the train. Suprisingly, there weren’t too much people. That’s good. after all, being stuffed in a train with loads of people like sardines in a can was never fun.

sitting down, you glanced out the window, admiring how pretty the sky looked when the sun was setting. Maybe you should wake up earlier tomorrow to see the sunrise…which would probably never happen since waking up in the mornings were hell.

nothing was really new. you followed the same routine everyday. wake up, brush your teeth, eat something, dress, then head to uzumaki cafe to work.

Which usually lasted until the afternoons. Then, you walked up to the agency’s office and helped with almost anything until your roommate spammed your messages to buy groceries or beer or whatever.

you’d head back, make dinner, do chores, shower, mess around then practically pass out in your bed until 7:00am and repeat.

you followed the same routine today as well, get back, made dinner, which today consisted of rice, vegetables, and soup. after that, you headed to bed a bit later than usual. due to innasomia from caffeine.

you really shouldn’t have drunk that much coffee at night.

either way, you were content with how things were. And you had thought that tomorrow would be the same as before until you woke up due to your phone ringing.

squinting at your clock, you wince. It was quite early: 8:00am and you only got 4 hours of sleep. just the day when you got the rare chance to head to work late.

groaning, you reached for your phone blindly, knocking down a few things until you could finally get a hold of it.

“…hello?” You groggily ask when you answer the phone, immediately snapping awake from your half asleep state after realising what the other person on the line just said.

“what the actual living fuck?”

rua’s notes : and that concludes the first chapter! whoaaaa it sure took a while huh :0 since it’s only the 1st, I wont immediately write abt the reader and osamu’s relationship :3 also, the reader has a ability ! (just wait a few more chapters) also chapter two will be focusing back on dazai !

thank u for reading this cringy ass fic that I stayed up all night writing !

#Bsd x reader #x reader #dazai x reader #dazai #bsd #bungo stray dogs x reader #x f! Reader #kinda cringe idk #bsd x reader angst #Angst #ᨳ rua’s works 𐙚୨୧𐙚

[licorice-tea]

Don’t Fall In Love With Me (Yet) Pt. 2

Pairing: Trafalgar Law x reader

Content: mentions of fights/canon typical violence and weapons, sooo much pining, can be read as a stand alone or as part of the mini series, allies to friends to lovers (soon!?), etc!

Word Count: 1.5k

A/N: hmmm where do i start? i changed the pov from third to second person, (the first part was third person) the writing style of this is a little different from what i usually do but i still like it so hopefully you do to! pls enjoy and ty for reading <333

edited 1/8/24

Part 1 | Part 3

Law finds y/n leaning on the starboard railing of the Thousand Sunny.

You feel Law’s steps on the wooden planks and look over your shoulder to see him approaching. you swear you can hear your own heartbeat, and only hope that he won’t be able to hear it, too. Your thoughts are interrupted by his presence to your left. Law leans over the railing, mug of coffee in hand. A moment of silence passes while he watches you watch the sea from the corner of his eye.

“Can you even see anything?” he questions, his words coming off much harsher than intended,

A bit caught off guard, you simply respond, “Mhm, everything.” you have good vision, so you’re sort of the natural choice for keeping watch if Zoro doesn’t feel like staying up.

You can feel Law’s gaze on your profile. You can also feel your cheeks heating up, but those two things are completely independent… It doesn’t even matter though, because the darkness of the night should be enough to hide that from him.

“Are you having a good time on board the Thousand Sunny?” 

“It’s alright. You guys are really loud.” He says in a near scoff.

“Oh… Sorry about that.” Did you really bother him so much?

Law mentally kicks himself and is quick to wave a hand in front of his face apologetically, “No, I just mean… you’re all very energetic. Not you specifically, either. You’re actually really, uh…”

You wait patiently, now peering up at him through your lashes. He meets your eyes with his own, much more frantic gaze.

“You’re… nice.” He finally averts his eyes with a turn of cheek.

“Oh… thank you.” You smile to yourself. “I think you’re really nice, too.”

Law releases another scoff, though it comes off as more surprised than mean. He struggles with accurately portraying his feelings for you, who remains equally oblivious to his feelings as he does to yours. “You must be thinking of someone else.”

“Why’s that?”

“I’m not known for being nice.”

“People must not really know you, then.”

“And you do?”

“Not as much as I’d like to, but well enough.”

“… What?” He finds that you make him feel dumb sometimes, be it through quick rebuttals or patient stares.

“I just mean, we could be friends. But I understand if you don’t-“

“I do.”

“… Ok.” You grin once more.

The pair stare out to sea, and Law takes another sip of his coffee.

“How come I never see you in fights with your crew?”

“I try to stay out of the way. Plus, I don’t really like fighting in the first place- that’s not why I joined my crew. It’s more of a last resort.”

“Interesting.”

“You think so?”

“That you would rather play support than have to get into a fight? Definitely. It’s not very pirate-like.” He nearly sneers- he has certain beliefs on what a pirate should be in order to be of use to their crew.

But, ever the optimist, you simply laugh, “So I’ve been told,” you start. “I guess I’m a little… strict about my morals. Just never really want to hurt someone, you know? Even if it makes people think I’m weak, because I know I’m not.”

“At least you’re self aware.” Law begins, but for some unknown reason feels compelled to continue. To give you some little piece of himself in return for what you’ve told him. However, after he tells you, “I don’t enjoy fighting much either, I just do it to protect my crew.” he feels like he’s talking too much.

You listen intently, “And do you have a family? If you don’t mind me asking.”

He shakes his head no, “Gone.”

You nod solemnly. “Well, I’m sure they’d be proud of you.”

“Have you… lost someone?” Law immediately regrets asking such a personal question.

But, you aren't offended. “No, I’ve been lucky in that way. Though we aren’t really… We don’t… Well, we’re not close.”

“Why’s that?” he mimics your earlier question, which you pick up on and smirk at.

So you sigh; “I guess the whole running-away-with-a-pirate crew thing kind of soiled their opinion of me.”

Your eyes meet again after your confession, and after a moment of silence, you both break out in laughter. Except, Law’s is more of just the shake of his shoulders, while you actually laugh.

“It’s not funny-” Law says through broken exhales.

“No, it’s really not!” you shake your head, still caught in a fit of giggles.

Eventually you both still yourselves, and Law concentrates on his half empty mug while you look up at the stars above head. Then you look at him from the corner of their eye, just for a split second, but find his eyes are already trained on you. So you offer a smile, like always, and go back to star gazing. Another moment passes, and your enjoyment of conversation gets the best of you.

“What’s it like living in a submarine?” Law raises a brow and gives a sidelong glance at your question. “Don’t you miss land and the sky when you’re down there?”

“Yeah. I miss land sometimes, I guess.”

You explore the answer to your question further by standing up on the ledge before you, and leaning over the railing to look down into the waves being split by the Thousand Sunny. It’s not a particularly dangerous stunt at all- there’s the floor, a 3 inch raised ledge, and the railing on top of it. When you stand on it, your height is barely altered; that’s how non perilous what you are doing is, for context. You simply want to lean over to see the waves.

But Law’s hand shoots out to grasp your shoulder, acting as a tether. You look at him with a concerned expression, which turns into a smirk. You could stay up there, maybe even turn and lift yourself slightly to sit on the railing itself, but you decide to come back down to the floor on your heels instead of giving the surgeon something else to stress over. Law then pulls his hand back rigidly and scratches the back of his neck with near painful awkwardness due to his sudden display of concern for your safety.

“I don’t think I could trip all the way over the railing unless I tried.” You tease.

“No, I- I know.” he coughs. Did he really just stutter?

“See? You are nice. You care.” you punctuate your statement with a smirk and the side to side tilt of their head. An occasional habit that, if someone were around you often enough to witness, they would know signified a feeling of triumph.

Law is at a loss for words at the moment, thoughts clouded by the growing warmth in his chest that seems to fluctuate up and down his neck and face, but never disappears completely when he’s around you.

“Sure.” he takes to mumbling again.

“You know, I really like having you here with us.”

“…You do?”

“Yeah. I love the other Straw Hats of course, but… I don’t know, you’re different.”

“You’re different from my crew, too.”

“Oh yeah? In a good way, I hope.”

Law shrugs, “Yeah.” He pauses, then mutters something under his breath. “In a good way.”

You’d blurt out your feelings here and now, if it were anyone else. But this is Law, and you kind of like him a lot, so you want to do things right. Besides, that would probably only scare him away- he seems like the kind of man who carefully works his way up to a relationship. With a friendly smile, you accept his statement. Because now that you know he considers you a friend at the very least, and more than likely shares your affections… you’re in no rush.

The night goes by quickly in his company, and soon enough you spot the golden rays of the sun peaking over the horizon.

“We should do this again sometime,” you tell him as the sun starts to climb higher into the sky (quicker than you’d like), “I had fun talking to you.”

Law nods, “Just let me know when you’re keeping watch,” he waves over his shoulder as he walks away, “I’ll be there.”

And when he makes it back to the privacy of his room, Law replays the night in his head. Over and over and over again, until he comes to a not-so-shocking conclusion. “Shit:”

“I’m falling for y/n.”

#one piece x reader #one piece x you #fanfic #one piece #x reader #law x reader #law fluff #law x you #trafalgar law #law x y/n #pining #late night conversations #straw hat reader #straw hat pirates #fluff #one piece x y/n

[hamiltonaf]

Falling for You | Kylian Mbappé

Pairing: Kylian Mbappé x Female Reader

Requested: Yes

Word Count: 1.4K

Warnings: Angst but turns into fluff

A/N: Requests are open ! Finally done with all past requests. Hope you babes enjoy. Much love .xx

Earlier in the day Kylian had told me about a party we had to attend later in the evening. In all honesty I wasn’t in the mood, I’d much rather lay in bed in my pyjamas and watch something on Netflix than be bothered to dress up.

He practically insisted I go with him. Fast forward to our current situation, I guess staying at home would’ve been the best idea.

I stormed out from the car and wasted no time to unlock the house. I headed straight for our bedroom and I hate that I could hear his heavy footsteps close behind. “(Y/N) I’m talking to you !” He yelled. “I’m not interested in hearing what you have to say, I’m basically talking to a wall because you don’t get it !” I yelled back as I slammed the door. He caught it with his foot and closed the door behind him.

“What the hell is wrong with you ? Why are you making a problem out of nothing ?” He asked as he then sat at the edge of the bed. “Me ? Making a problem out of nothing ?” I sarcastically laughed. “We know for a fact had the roles been reversed and if a man asked to take a picture with me whilst placing his hand on my lower back or dared to kiss my cheek then you would be fuming right now. So don’t try to tell me that my so called over reacting is over nothing. It baffles me how you allowed her to literally kiss your cheek whilst wrapping her arms around your neck and her other picture where she placed her hand on your chest ? I’m literally losing brain cells explaining this to you for the third time. Why do I even bother ?” I rolled my eyes and walked away to our closet.

“Oh my god. For the 10th time, I didn’t allow it, she just came on to me” he shook his head. I kicked off my heels and tied my hair up into a messy bun. “At the point, I really don’t care. You could’ve stopped it and you didn’t. What I’m telling you now is what you’d tell me had a guy done that. Go spend the night with her, I’m sure she’d love that” I yelled from the closet. “You’re sick you know that ? Let me leave you to yourself. I’m out” he said as he stood up and walked out. As much as my heart wanted to stop him and forget about all of this, my petty side refused to call after him.

As I heard him go downstairs and shut the front door, I sped to the front door, my eyes needed to see to believe that this was actually happening. I watched him speed off and that’s when my heart sunk. What if he actually spends the night with that girl like I told him to ?

I didn’t realise the tears pool at my eyes and start to run down my cheek, until I felt the tears run down my neck. With my blurry vision, I rushed back upstairs, I guess skipping every second step wasn’t a great idea. I tripped over the edge of the stairs and luckily saved my fall with my hands, unfortunately I couldn’t save my ankle.

With the striking pain through my ankle, I just knew that my whole foot was going to be twice the size within the hour. My tears continued to fall, at this point I’m sure my makeup was completely off. I managed to get myself to stand on one foot whilst holding the railing for balance. I limped my way upstairs and made my way to our room to grab my phone to call Kylian. I called him once. No answer. Twice. No answer. Three times. No answer. I gave up.

I slapped my forehead when I realised I needed an ice pack. I had no choice but to limp back downstairs to make my way to the freezer, to my luck I found one. I limped over to the couch to lay down with the ice pack on my ankle. With my headache forming, dried tears, swollen ankle and I guess you can say a broken heart… my mind couldn’t deal with so much of pain for one night so I drifted off to sleep.

I was rudely awoken by Kylian when his thumb caressed my cheek. “Baby what happened ?” He asked concerned. “Don’t baby me” I pushed his hand away and tried to get myself to sit up, not remembering that my ankle is swollen and in pain. “Shit” I hissed. “Wait babe, let me help you” he said as he stood up to stand in front of me and held his hands out for me to hold. “No it’s fine” I said stubborn and tried to get myself up. “Ma chérie what happened to your ankle ?” He grabbed my hands to help me stand up.

“When I needed you the most, you don’t bother to pick up your phone and now you’re asking what happened ? What were you doing ? Spending the night with that girl ?” I said annoyed and tried to walk past him. “(Y/N), you know I’d never do that” he said as he grabbed my hand to stop me. “At this point, I don’t even know you” I sarcastically said whilst taking a quick glance at him. “Oh my - can we just forget about it and focus on your ankle ? We’re going to the hospital” he said. “No, I’m fine” I pulled away from his grip and tried to walk away which wasn’t very successful considering how easily he carried me. “Put me down !” “No” he shut me up and walked out the door to lay me on the passenger seat.

He rushed to the drivers side and started the car. “Now tell me what happened” he said as he drove off. “I tripped going upstairs” I crossed my arms over my chest. “What were you doing downstairs ?” He raised a brow. Shit. I sighed. “Watched you leave” I looked out the window, refusing to look at him. “Ma chérie, I believe I owe you an apology. I’m sorry for not understanding where you were coming from. You’re right, had a guy done that to you then I would’ve been mad. I should’ve stopped her from the beginning. Also, I shouldn’t have left you all alone. That’s probably the biggest mistake I made” he said as he tried to grab my hand. I let him.

He entwined our fingers. “Where did you go ?” I asked whilst still looking out the window. “I just went to Hakimi to talk about what happened. I was only there for about half an hour. It hit me that I made a huge mistake and rushed home to you in hopes to cuddle. I guess not” he fought back a laugh. I turned to look at him and couldn’t help but crack a smile. “Ky it is what it is. It happened. The only thing we can do is learn from what happened and move forward” I shrugged. “Am I forgiven ?” He asked with a pout. “Yes, for now” I joked. He grabbed the back of my hand and placed a kiss on it.

Once we got to the ER at the hospital, he ran over to my side and once again carried me over to the entrance. “Ky you can put me down now” I said once we were in the doctors room. He laid me on the bed and stood in front of me with his arms crossed. “You know you don’t have to wait for me” I pursed my lips. “I know, but obviously I can’t leave you alone since what happened in the half an hour that I was away. I guess you can say, you’re falling for me” he laughed. “I- you know what I’m so done with you and your jokes” I shook my head as I tried to fight back my smile.

“Let’s be honest. It was a good joke” he poked my cheek. “Ky this isn’t the time for jokes, I’m in pain” I pouted. He stole the opportunity to peck my lips. “Did that help the pain ?” He raised a brow. “Not quite, I think I need another” I said playfully.

#football #football fanfic #football fanfics #football imagine #football fluff #football angst #football smut #football x you #football x reader #football blurb #football drabble #kylian mbappe #kylian mbappe fanfic #kylian mbappe smut #kylian mbappe fluff #kylian mbappe angst #kylian mbappe imagines #kylian mbappe blurb #kylian mbappe x reader #kylian mbappe x you #kylian mbappe oneshot #ricciardoaf oneshots