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ozzgin · 2 months

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Yandere! Yokai Harem x Reader (III)

On your travels with the two demon companions, you stumble upon a fortified village plagued by monster attacks. It would be quite unlucky if the grand finale happened just as you step foot inside, right? Worry not, you're saved by a third mysterious yokai that you immediately recognize. The harem grows!

Content: female reader, monsters, violence

[Part 1] [Part 2] [Part 3] [Character Guide]

“Alright, how’s this?”

You do a clumsy pirouette before the two yokai men.

“That’s...are you sure?” Kiritsubo eyes you, mildly confused. “It’s usually what men wear.”

Of course, you already know. After weeks of walking through feudal Japan, you’ve reached the conclusion that modern clothing isn’t the most practical choice. Not to mention the strange looks you always get from other people upon your arrival in any village. You needed something to blend in, and the typical fashion for your gender might not be compatible with your training. You’d rather not swing a sword while covered in multiple layers of kimono.

Thus, you opted for the hakama pants typically worn by men. With your hair tied up and in this baggy attire, one could think you’re a young samurai. If they squint enough. You chuckle at the thought.

“She’ll wear whatever allows her to not be a burden.” Murasaki concludes with crossed arms.

One way to put it, you tell yourself.

“If you’re done discussing fashion, we can leave.” The dark-haired man continues with indifference, standing up and adjusting the swords in the folds of his sash.

Both you and Kiritsubo hurry and follow behind obediently.

“Where are we going this time?” You ask sheepishly.

“South-west. An old residence of his, although we will have to pass through a fortified settlement first. We should reach it before sunset.”

It’s hard to imagine you’re the supposed savior in this equation. Murasaki has been leading you by the hand each step, carefully considering every detail on the map, and extensively planning your travels every evening. All this on top of your daily training. You’ve now mastered the basics with the katana he’s provided you, as well as some common prayers for exorcising small-class demons.

You glance at the daisho pair of swords under his belt. A long, thin blade, and a shorter backup version, both in elaborate matching scabbards meant to showcase the status and wealth of the samurai wearing them. In this case, meant to express his rank as the advisor and right hand of the famed onmyōji. You certainly don’t doubt Nakamaro’s decision to rely on Murasaki.

In comparison, Kiritsubo carries a nagamaki at his waist. A comically long blade in your opinion, used mostly to bring down horses during battle. Any regular sword would’ve been too small for him. Despite his imposing appearance, you’ve learned rather quickly just how different Kiritsubo is from the other yokai. He’s quite clumsy in combat, often anxious about making mistakes, terribly apologetic, and overall has a heart too kind for his own good. If there’s hesitation coming from his side, Murasaki immediately follows with his ruthless, ending blows. As a matter of fact, even you’ve had to do the occasional killing to spare the man of such choices.

The silver-haired demon notices your eyes on him and smiles, excited. He reminds you of a large dog. A horned, fanged dog of monstrous strength, nonetheless the innocence is there. And he does make a great travel companion.

“How much longer?” You grunt, looking up.

“Are you tired? I can carry you for the rest of the way-” Kiritsubo instantly offers but is interrupted by Murasaki’s barked orders.

“She can walk. Don’t spoil her.” He glares at you, then nods ahead. “We’re almost there, so quit your whining.”

True to his word, you can finally discern the outline of a wall at the top of the hill. A few more steps, and you can even spot two guards standing beside the great gate.

“Stop there!”

The soldiers lift their spears threateningly. Before you can react, Murasaki steps in front of you with a hand placed on his sword.

“We’re just passing through.” He states factually.

“We’re no longer allowing visitors.” One of the guards exclaims. “The village has been raided by monsters recently and our Lord has closed all gates until the matter is solved.”

“That means no filthy demons go in.” The other adds in a mocking tone, his gaze lingering on the horns of your companions. His mouth curls in disgust.

You can tell Murasaki is angered by the disrespectful approach. He is not one to let such insults slide and you’d rather avoid him claiming unnecessary victims; therefore, you push past his arm and plant yourself ahead with a polite greeting bow.

“These yokai are with me. I vouch for their good behavior, so please consider letting us through. Perhaps we can even help you with these monsters.”

“You? How would you…”

The man stops abruptly, switching between you and the yokai. Eventually he inspects your scabbard, and he gasps, confusion twisting his features.

“Could it be? No…He’d be dead by now.”

“What are you talking about?” His partner inquires impatiently.

“That’s the family seal belonging to Abe no Nakamaro.” He explains, pointing to the golden finish at the end of your katana handle. “I’ve heard about him from my grandparents. But it’s been decades!”

“Don’t be ridiculous. You’re saying this kid is a legendary onmyōji?”

“Who else would show up with demons as servants? Everything matches. Perhaps his powers have finally reached immortality”, he concludes solemnly.

The men continue their argument, and you clear your throat, embarrassed. What the hell? You can’t possibly look that manly. Sure, you’ve been skipping the makeup, and the clothes aren’t exactly curve shaping, but to be mistaken for an old man is like a slap to the face.

You’re about to deny their claims, but Murasaki swiftly pinches the back of your neck, and you wince. He lowers himself to your ear and whispers:

“This will be to our advantage. Just go along with it.” “Fine!” You mumble angrily. Then you turn back to the guards.

“V-very well, I see I haven’t been forgotten.” You admit, theatrically. “Lead me to your Lord and we shall discuss the details of your monster attack.”

Thus, you sip on your tea, kneeling at the luxurious table and awaiting the arrival of the feudal Lord. The servants are exchanging words, gossiping fervently next to the wall. “I wonder if he can cure my daughter!” one woman mumbles, visibly emotional.

“Do you think we can finally be saved? He’ll truly exorcise the beasts tormenting our village?” another whispers.

You wipe the sweat from your forehead and glare at Murasaki. You had no idea he’d given you Nakamaro’s old sword. Now you’re stuck pretending to be a pompous, long-dead asshat.

“What if they catch us?” You hiss between your teeth. “I don’t know shit about onmyōdō.”

“Then I’ll just kill them all. Simple as that.” The crimson-eyed man retorts, unconcerned. “Have a little fun, won’t you?”

“W-we’ll help you come up with answers, (Y/N). Don’t worry.” Kiritsubo chimes in, trying to reassure you.

You sigh in frustration and look out the window. The sun must’ve set a long time ago and has since been replaced by a pitch-black sky. What’s keeping the Lord? Surely, he can’t be having important business meetings late at night.

Almost as if your thoughts were read, the door slides open and a servant wobbles in. The rest of the household workers are silent, expecting the entrance of their master, but no one is following behind. You observe the bizarre limp of the woman. Suddenly, she collapses to the floor, revealing her bloodied back torn by deep wounds, caused by some sort of claw. Her body is stiff.

Panic settles in right away, and the servants topple over each other to get away from the fresh cadaver. You struggle to get up among the terrified crowd, but thankfully Murasaki grabs your wrist and pulls you out into a quieter hallway.

“What the hell?” is all you manage to say.

“Rotten.” Kiritsubo furrows his brows, sniffing the air. “Someone in here must be possessed. Could be more of them.”

Murasaki surveys the surroundings and gestures towards his partner.

“We have to see if the Lord is still alive. You go that way. I’ll take the front. Kill everyone suspicious.”

“What about me?” You demand, holding your breath.

“Get out and wait for us. You know how to draw a protection circle, don’t you? I won’t take long.” The dark-haired yokai answers before vanishing.

Judging by the screams and wails coming from all directions, you suspect Kiritsubo is right about multiple attackers. You sprint across the hall, looking for an opening. The self-defense lessons didn’t cover cursed humans with demonic powers. You’ll stay out of this one.

What an absolute mess. You have encountered some demons in your weeks spent here, but nothing to this degree. When the guards mentioned a monster attack, you imagined a ghost with a grudge, or some small fry yokai scaring the workers at night, not a mass curse that ends in a massacre. Of course, it had to happen the moment you arrived at the main house.

You find a room with a door leading to the inner courtyard. Seems isolated enough and it should provide a bit of shelter while you wait for the pair to finish the business. As you rush past the dead bodies, you notice a woman hiding behind a screen divider.

“Ah! It’s you!” she yells, aware of your presence.

From the shadow of her secret spot emerges the small frame of a child. The woman pushes the little human towards you, blocking your path.

“Don’t worry, he’ll protect us.” she gives her child another nudge. “Go on, hold onto him. You’ll be safe.”

What? No, no, no, no, no. Not happening. You’re getting out.

“Ma’am, sorry to break it to you under such circumstances, but I’m not-”

You’re interrupted by a loud growl. One of the possessed creatures must’ve followed your scent, and it’s now sliding into the room on all fours with the bones of the limbs twisting and creaking in unnatural pounces. You purse your lips in a frightened grimace. One advantage of the wide hakama pants – useful to know – is that no one can see your knees shaking cowardly.

Theoretically, you could use the brat as bait and run for your life. It’d make a decent obstacle. Unfortunately for your life span, you’ve been gifted with an idiotic sense of duty instead of survival instincts.

“Keep your distance. If I can’t kill it, get out and don’t look back” you advise, positioning yourself in the learned stance and sliding the sword out of its sheath.

Damn it! Then again, it should be like fighting a zombie, right? Given the pathetic way it drags itself around, it can’t be too difficult to hit. Aim for the head, you repeat in your mind. Your fingers grip around the handle.

The ghoulish beast lowers itself, like a spring about to recoil, and leaps across the room with an ease you did not anticipate. Despite your iron hold, it slaps the blade out of your hands with enormous force. The impact breaks your skin, and you wince. There’s no time to weep, within seconds it could go for your vitals next. While Murasaki hasn’t gotten around to teaching you much hand-to-hand combat, you’ve read your fair share of shounen manga. The first idea that comes to mind is to put the beast in a sumo lock. You bend your knees smoothly and wrap your arms around the monster, feeling for something to hold onto. You grit your teeth and attempt to lift the creature.

A thundering laugh resonates within the walls, and you jolt, startled.

“I never thought I’d see the mighty Abe no Nakamaro wrestling with ankle biters like this. What are you going to do, throw it out of the ring?”

The voice is deep, loud, and unfamiliar. You can’t afford to look back to see the source, but it’s not hard to figure out the possibilities. So far, you’ve only been called by that cursed name by the yokai accomplices. Although now is not the best time to seek revenge.

“Shut up, I panicked”, you snap in frustration. “If you can’t help, keep that trap closed!”

The sudden burst of anger seems to have triggered something within your body, a power you don’t recognize. You watch as your arms effortlessly pick up the monster and swing it across the room, its body demolishing the opposing wall and causing thick clouds of dust to rise and spread everywhere.

The impact must’ve alerted the nearby ghouls, as you can now hear the agitated trample and screeching rapidly approaching. You’re not confident you can pull the same lucky move a second time.

You turn to search for your sword, but it’s already being handed to you by the mysterious yokai who’s been observing your little fight. You have to step aside and tilt your head all the way back in order to fully view the gigantic frame of the man.

Ah, you recognize the features immediately. The same kind of fear you felt when you stumbled upon that old shrine statue is now tugging at your chest.

“You’re Suma, right?”

A proud, wide grin forms on his face, revealing a pair of glistening fangs. His expression is unexpectedly soft and friendly.

“We’re halfway through our introductions then, eh?” You pick up the sword and his fingers stretch out for a handshake. “What is your given name? I’m guessing you don’t willingly go by that…title.”

“I very much prefer (Y/N), yes.” You marvel at the significant difference in size, placing your small hand in his. “Was that your power I just used?”

“Mhhm. You sure surprised me there! It’s not something I did intentionally, but I s’ppose we just resonate that well, huh?”

He laughs again, completely unbothered by the impending danger.

“Alright, you can leave the rest to me. Take the lady outside, it will get a little messy.”

And with that, he casually walks towards the gathering of ghouls. You guide the family to the courtyard and wait for the battle to end.

“Do you think she’ll be fine by herself?” Kiritsubo is resting against the fence, keeping you under a watchful gaze.

“Let the humans sort it out among themselves.” Murasaki responds, somewhat bored.

The morning after the attack, you offered to deal with the survivors: ask them how everything started, if they’d noticed anything suspicious days prior to the event, and if the route to Nakamaro’s old residence was still open. The yokai men had found the feudal Lord in the jaws of a possessed creature and he quickly succumbed to his wounds. Consequently, only the remaining servants could provide them with clues.

A village being targeted like this is highly unusual, and Murasaki can’t shake the feeling it could be related to their master.

“Oh, where are you heading after this?” The silver-haired yokai glances at Suma, sitting lazily next to them.

“Where? After you just told me the whole story? I’m way too invested in this modern reincarnation that just popped out of nowhere, so I’m tagging along!” He announces with a chuckle.

Murasaki frowns.

“We don’t need your help.”

“Don’t be like that.” The giant man pouts dramatically. “Are you upset I saved (Y/N) before you?”

“W-we were on our way!” Kiritsubo retorts, visibly bothered.

“It’s a done deal!” Suma rests his hands under his head and yawns. “Besides, the little human already said he doesn’t mind.”

“He? (Y/N) is a woman.”

The redhead abruptly sits up and gasps.

“Wait, what?”

“Don’t get funny ideas, man”, the silver-haired demon warns.

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himbocoups · 2 years

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˗ˋˏ YUCK! ˎˊ˗ | 18+ Only (Part Two)

synopsis: how can you remain friends with benefits with someone who turns his plushies around during sex, pouts when you don't kiss him goodbye, and spends his time occupying your mind when all you want is for him to leave you alone?

pairing: lsm x yn (gn afab)

genre: fluff, humor, romance | m, smut

tags: alcohol/food - reader also briefly blacks out, costume party, cursing, domesticity, fwb, sexual innuendos, showering together, yn un-alives a spider, university au | cowgirl, cunnilingus, dirty talk, fingering, handjob, hickies, love making, pet names, pnv, praise

wc: 11.5k

a/n: hi this is part 2/2 of yuck! thank you all so much for waiting. I honestly had so much fun writing this, and I hope you have fun reading. lmk if I missed any tags in part one or two. comments and reblogs are super appreciated!! pls pee after sex so you don't get an uti ♡ -nu

yuck! - part one

lipglossjun's masterlist

He came to your door unannounced, knocking loudly on your front door and causing you to jump in your seat. Three sharp knocks against the door using his middle knuckles and then a few friendly taps because he realizes he's standing in front of your door and not his resident’s door. The sound echoes loudly inside your lonely apartment but isn’t loud enough to alarm your neighbors because he purposely leans his side against the door to diffuse the sound and vibrations. You can’t blame him for his habit - he’s used to knocking on so many doors in one night that the freezer part of his mini fridge is stocked with frozen sponges in plastic baggies so he can ice his swollen knuckles at night. You don’t even have to look through your peeping hole to know it’s him, but it’s weird because you know he should be on-call today. Still, the knocks are enough to scare you into thinking you’re still dorming in the universities.

He tells you he has an employee banquet a few days before the break and was worried that his makeup might smudge on his suit. He also brought your go-to drink order from the tea shop across campus, punching in your specific add-ons and adjustments into the kiosk before even deciding what new seasonal drink he wanted to try. You had no choice but to begrudgingly take your drink from him while you shuffled to the side of your door so he could come into your apartment.

"I thought you already knew how to do this.”

You see him hold up your hand mirror to his neck to look at the small bruise you left on the side of his neck a few nights ago. He sits cross-legged on your apartment living room carpeted floor while you sit on the ottoman next to him.

“Only for an everyday base routine for my face,” he frowns while softly poking his bruise. “But my neck makeup keeps smudging and I don’t know how to stop it from getting on my clothes,” he admits while he lowers the neckline of his t-shirt, thinking about the stains he left on his shirt collars.

You uncap the bottle you’re holding and spray the cool setting spray on his bruise. He fans the wet product with his hand while you dig through his toiletry bag for his color-correcting palette. You dip his tiny makeup brush into the palette and bring the product-coated brush to paint over his bruise.

“If you want me to stop marking you, you can just tell me,” you suggest to him while brushing another thin layer. You tap your pointer finger lightly around the harsh edges, blending the colors into his skin. An intrusive thought tells you to poke your finger deep into his skin, but you decide not to.

He ooo’s at how you’re blending the product, angling the mirror so he can better see how you’re working.

“But I like them,” he says while you spritz another light layer of setting spray. “They remind me of you,” he softly confesses while you blow on his skin. He finds himself angling the mirror again so that the mirror now focuses on your face.

He giggles at the tingling sensation of your warm breath against the cold product, and he smiles to himself when he sees your concentrated expression through the reflection in the mirror – how you purse your lips and how your eyebrows furrow together. If he weren’t an RA, he would proudly wear his love bites as a badge for everybody around him to see. He wants people to tease him whenever they see the bruise poking out of his hoodie when his hood is down. It’s not to let people know he’s getting it on. That’s just not who he is.

But there is that part of him that wants others to know you’re his. He’s tired of soft launching you on his Instagram. That’s what people do when they want others to know they’re talking to somebody. But you’re just his friend. He’s completely fine with showing you off, but he respects your privacy, knowing how much you hate having your picture taken. It’s also not like his closest friends don’t know about his relationship with you, but if it makes you happy, he’ll take it. He likes what the two of you have. And after all, he doesn't care about the pictures. It’s the person whose plate is almost always pictured across from his, the hand holding the ice cream cone, the second shadow under the street light who he cares for.

The bruises feel sore, but he loves how you automatically coddle him afterward, especially after a heated session. You always have that worried look on your face, your lips pouty and frowny. He remembers the number of ridges between your brows when you ask him how he’s feeling. He always tells you that he feels fine, great even, but you always sigh with a defeated look on your face. You’ll walk to the fridge in nothing but one of his old t-shirts and grab him a cold metal spoon. He doesn’t know if the cold spoon hack works, but he lets you do it anyway. He’ll let you do anything if it means he gets to spend more time with you no matter how prickly you may seem on the outside.

Now, he’s spending more time with you on a lazy Tuesday night. He’s done for the day and doesn’t have any RA duties at night because the university recently handed on-call duties for the campus security to handle. On the other hand, you didn’t have anything scheduled for today and spent the entire day indoors. You’re still in your pajamas – a free shirt from a past school event and old running shorts that you never wore while exercising. There are leftover food delivery containers in your fridge from dinner. You tell him the importance of investing in a tinted sunscreen while pushing up your wired glasses. It’s ironic because he knows you haven’t washed your face today or applied any form of sun protection at all. The closer you lean into him to be sure he understands, the redder his cheeks flush. He hopes his mineral powder is enough to diffuse the blush or at least make it seem like it’s the redness from his acne.

Feeling a little hot, he reaches over to grab his fruit slushie-turned-juice from the coffee table and brings it to his lips. He sucks the concoction through the metal straw, letting the cool liquid settle in his mouth so he can savor it before swallowing. You notice the condensation dripping down his arms before he does, and you wipe it away with the edge of your t-shirt without any thought. Your drink is already long gone, finished within minutes after poking your straw through the flimsy plastic lid, washed and disposed of in your recycling bin. He wonders if the taste of his drink would linger on your tongue if he kisses you. And he wonders how the tangy sourness of his drink would contrast or balance the extra amount of sweetness in your tea.

But you’re done concealing the bruise, already sealed it off with the last layer of setting spray. Satisfied with your job, you plop yourself on the other side of the couch and grab the book you put face-down on the table when DK arrived at your front door. You tuck your legs under you and use the armrest as your elbow support as you resume your novel. DK types the makeup steps into his notes app and quickly cleans up his products, looking for something to do.

DK snakes his head between the open gap between your stomach and your book, putting his head on your chest. You pay him no mind, flipping another page while he thinks of a conversation starter. He relaxes into the feeling of your chest rising and dropping and the steady thumping of your heartbeat pulsing under his ear. He asks you what your novel is about while twiddling with the hem of your shirt, noticing it’s still a bit damp from before.

“Smut,” you nonchalantly answer him. You didn’t know much about the novel, but you borrowed it from your friend who kept raving about it while you visited her the other day. She claimed it was better than sex, but honestly, all you’ve been reading so far are overly detailed descriptions of scenery while the main character stares out of the parked car window.

“But you have me,” he teases you. He lets go of your shirt to poke you on your cheek between each word, “You. Have. Me.”

You swat his hand away from your face and subsequently decide to place your novel on his head to use as a stand. He huffs underneath the book, and you snicker at him, leaning down to kiss the top of his head. You think it’s cute whenever he’s being annoying, throwing tiny tantrums whenever he doesn’t have enough attention. You catch yourself lingering on the thought of what his neediness would be like if the two of you were together.

“I’m too lazy,” you flip another page after letting the thought dissipate. “You’re on your own unless you can find another way to do it.”

He huffs and lifts the novel from his forehead to sit up. He turns to you and untucks your legs from beneath you.

“Continue reading your book. Let me eat you out while you rest,” he tells you while pulling your legs with ease so only your upper back and head is leaning against the couch’s armrest. He rests your legs on each side of him.

“Go ahead, but wouldn’t that be a little boring for you?” you ask him while your eyes are still trained on your novel. Even though you spend a lot of time thinking about him manhandling you, his persona easily makes you forget about just how strong he is.

He grabs a cushion from the middle of the couch and tucks it behind your neck. He asks you if you’re comfortable. You give him a thumbs-up, and he gently pecks your thumb before moving your hand back to your book so you can properly hold your book. His little touches and kisses aren’t new to you, but you think it’d be a shame if his kiss transferred onto your pages instead of keeping it to yourself. You choose to hover your thumb above the pages, choosing to use your hand’s round fleshy thenar to hold the pages.

You lift your hips upwards so he can easily remove your bottoms. He tugs them off you as if he has all the time in the world, folding your shorts and undies and setting them on the coffee table like they’re part of the decoration.

“I don’t think I’d be bored,” he kneels himself in front of you and lowers himself so he’s flat against the couch. He gently lifts your shirt higher so it’s past your belly button and proceeds to hook your legs over his shoulders. “Read to me? Out loud?” he asks you while massaging the outside of your thighs.

You lift your book, looking at him quizzically. However, when you see the tiny fading red mark on his forehead from when you used him as a stand, you can’t help but agree to his request. He lowers his head to your core and quickly taps your thighs twice to tell you to read.

“Now, a black flashy standard motorcycle with matching black chrome wheels pulls into the driveway of the auto shop where your car is currently getting its engine replaced. The steady hum of the engine is enough to have every single mechanic in the vicinity turn their –,” you were doing pretty well at reading until DK, without warning, puts his warm tongue flat against your clit, licking upwards until it reaches your nub. “Ah – h-heads to stare at the bike,” you stumble with the last phrase.

He lets his spit drop at the top of your clit, watching it glide downwards along your ridges before catching it with his tongue like a little game of Plinko. He feels you tense under his tongue, causing him to hum in delight. He mumbles something about you doing good before attaching his tongue to you again.

“One of them whistles when the motorcyclist comes to a full stop in front of the open auto shop garages,” you try to ignore the fact that he’s gently blowing wind to tease you, to hear you stumble across your words. There is no way you are going to cave right when you started reading out loud, so you bite your lip when you feel his soft and open lips close around your labia. But you can’t ignore him no matter how hard you try.

He kisses you deeply, full-mouthed while his large hands lock around your thighs. Painstakingly slowly, he buries his face deeper into your cunt.

“Eungh- O-one of them whistles when the mo- oh,” you moan while your mouth hangs open when he circles the tip of his tongue around your clitoris. You move your novel away to look at DK whose entire face is gone. You can only see his bushy black hair.

He continues to circle his tongue around you while your breathing gets shallower. You feel your arousal building, causing your thighs to close around his head. He looks up at you looking back at him with a lustful expression. He sucks softly on your clitoral hood and pries your thighs open with his hands. He only winks, letting go of your skin through his lips before going back to eating your cunt.

“…motorcyclist can loudly rev his engine,” you manage to finish the paragraph with a little sigh of relief.

“Mmmh. Good job, baby,” he groans, praising you against your cunt.

He kisses the inside of your right thigh while moving your left leg off his right shoulder.

You find yourself frowning just a little bit when you think he’s finished, but truthfully, he’s only moving your leg off the couch so he can finger you while eating you out. He puts his right hand on your stomach and uses his thumb to rub your nub.

“I’ll reward you if you keep reading okay?”

He kisses your stomach and moves your shirt down so you wouldn’t shiver from being cold. If only he knew why you were shivering.

“‘Couldn’t you have driven here?’ you frown at your older brother w- ah- fuck. Fuck,” you jerk in your seat when DK inserts a finger in your cunt. You can feel him smile against you as he drags his tongue against your folds while his finger dips in and out of you knowing exactly how to drag a string of moans from your mouth, to make your legs tremble and shake.

All this, and you’re only half a page into reading out loud.

“…while he reaches between his legs to pass you his extra motorcycle helmet as you approach him,” you read while trying to ignore the fact that you’re gripping your borrowed novel with so much force that you probably bent the matte paperback cover. “He shrugs and passes you the helmet which you – mmm fuck just like that – begrudgingly fit over your head.”

You’re clenched tightly around his two fingers as he curls them in you while sloppily giving you head. You hear exactly how wet you are, how his fingers squelch every time he reinserts them in you, how his coated lips smack against your glistening pussy – devouring you as his life depended on it. You can feel your juices pool around your ass as he uses his left arm to hold you down whenever you lurch upwards. He moans profanities against you, but never at you. When he raises his head to take a break, he makes sure his fingers never stop moving. He always brings you to your high, and you feel so safe with him.

And he tells you you’re sweet. He always does.

Sometimes you’re sweet because he compliments you for doing something for him. He calls you sweet when you’re frowning about somebody criticizing your RBF. You like it when he calls you sweet when he calls you Sweetie. You like it when he says it with flair. You like it when he says it when you show him your project. You like it whenever he says it when you make him take a sip of any of your sugary drinks – the way his face contorts in total disgust, but he still manages to do so with a smile on his face.

He never called you my sweet, but god damn do you wish you could experience what it would feel like for him to call you his. But tonight he describes your flavor as sweet as you like your teas. He can’t stop praising you for how sweet you are, how you’re like dessert on his tongue. And you can’t get him out of your head.

“He leans forward and clicks open the motorcycle’s rear footrests with the back of his boot,” your face scrunches, but you continue. “When he is done, he looks back at you struggling – eungh Kyeom,” you struggle.

He only grips your thigh tighter as he alternates between fingering you and pausing so he can kiss your cunt like he’s kissing you during sex. He flattens his tongue against you and twists it so he can tease your hole. You’re whining and speeding through the last few words of the sentence, desperate to have him in you.

“Whoa. Whoa,” he temporarily detaches himself from you to grab onto your forearm as he raises himself above you. His lips glisten from the wetness, and the color of his flushed face compliment the color of his sore lips. “Slow down baby,” he tells you and kisses your cheek, “Wanna hear your pretty voice, okay? Just read and relax.” He strokes your hair and brushes away the strands covering your eyes, “I’m not going anywhere.”

But you don’t relax. How can you relax when he grips your hips, fingers dipping into your pelvic bone as he shoves his nose against your clitoris, sticking his tongue into your cunt? He bobs his head while he tongue-fucks you, nudging your nub and making your pussy throb even when he briefly comes up for air.

Your vision blurs as he continues to build your high, ignoring you as you continue to call out his name. The words on the page are replaced by stars when you tell him you can’t take it anymore. Heart racing and muscles tightening, you cum while his tongue is in you. And he laps you up as you convulse around him, back arching as you continue to come. He drinks what’s left of you like he’s drinking ice cold water at midnight – you’re insatiable. You moan his name into your book once more, hiccupping as he brings your left leg back on the couch.

“Yn,” he whispers as he removes your book from your face. He puts it on the coffee table without breaking eye contact with you. “What did you call me?”

You don’t hear him as you’re still struggling to catch your breath. Your pussy is still pulsing without pause. Everything is hazy, but you can see him reaching over for something in his cosmetics bag. You close your eyes, still undeniably horny and wanting more.

There is a little bit of shuffling and then the sound of a few light things dropping on the floor. He reaches under you and scoops you up as if you weigh nothing. You briefly remember him telling you about hitting a new PR where he could lift someone a little over his weight. But he brings you to your bed, only switching on your nightstand lamp.

He sits on the side of your bed while he strokes your cheek.

“Yn,” he whispers again while leaning closer to you. “Do you remember what you called me?”

You blink twice at him before slowly realizing. Your lips part in realization, and he only smiles at you.

He opens your nightstand drawer and pulls out a condom and your bottle of lube. Your fingers automatically fly to cover your lips in horror, but he only chuckles at your expression while he positions himself between your legs and leans over you. He coats his wrapped dick in the lube and rubs the remaining gel around your vulva. You whimper at the coldness, and he wipes the remaining bits on his thighs.

He leans over you again and rests his elbows on the sides of your face. He asks you again, gently, if you remember what name you called him.

You nod your head, breath hitching as you stare at him. It’s unfair, you think, to look as pretty as he is under the ugly yellow light your lamp emits. But he looks at you with so much care in the world, and you feel thankful that you’re spending your Tuesday night with him. You thank his lame excuse for intruding on your time for yourself. You thank him for spending time with you, for looking after you, even if he isn’t yours at that moment.

He aligns himself at your entrance while waiting for your answer.

You whisper it almost inaudibly, barely believing yourself as you let the word leave your mouth.

“Say it again,” he instructs you.

“Seokmin.”

You’re not sure if the two of you should have come up with one of those contracts you always read about in books when you first started the relationship. Maybe you should’ve learned from Lara Jean – a binding relationship contract written on notebook paper and signed in pen. There would be a couple of items on the list, a few weird ones, and then a majority of the items being standard ones. Standard item number one? No kissing. Standard item number two? No staying over after sex (sub-line: No cuddling). Standard item number three? No meeting unless it’s for sex. Maybe a weird item would be the option to try pegging. However, the last item on the list? No developing feelings for the other party.

If rules are made to be broken, but contracts signed by people older than eighteen are legally binding, then you would’ve been in jail by now.

His lips are locked against yours, groaning your name as he wraps your legs around his waist. He nibbles along your jaw as he makes love to you, slowly pushing deep inside you so you can feel his balls lay flush against your ass, feeling all of him in you. You call his name through a choked sob, your hands roaming around to find something to grab. Anything.

Your fingers find the back of his head, and you pull on his hair. And he flips like a switch, immediately pounding into you over and over again, praising you and calling you his.

Tonight, the rules have definitely been broken. And you’re starting to realize this isn’t the first offense.

“Okay so, I didn’t want to take it off because I wanted to see if my makeup would smudge, but I did it because I knew I was going to get hot.”

“Omg he wanted to keep his shirt on. He’s so quirky!”

“Stoppp,” he laughs while he passes the showerhead to you. “I can’t believe you’re the only person who tried to tell me a joke during sex.”

“It’s because I’m the only person you’ve ever had sex with,” you stick your tongue out at him while you rinse the body wash you previously bought with DK off your body.

“You too,” he retorts while turning around so you can rinse the soap off his body for him.

He grabs your shampoo from your hanging wire basket and plops a dollop into his hand. He tells you to look up while he lathers it in his hand before he brings his hands to massage your scalp. His fingers feel amazing while he massages you, so you close your eyes in the process, hoping to keep the shampoo out of your eyes.

He thinks you look like one of those dogs from the pictures you find online where the owner sticks a metal head massager on their heads. Your eyes are closed in contentment, and there’s a lazy smile on his face that he only gets to see so often. He can’t help himself but sneak a little kiss on your lips while he piles your hair into a mountain so that you look like that one guy from the first Incredibles movie.

You open your eyes to look at him, but you see that he’s purposely looking away, pretending to be interested in something else. You try to follow his eyes, but your eyes land on something dark crawling down the wall above DK’s head.

Being you, you blatantly point out the descending spider, and DK screams, slips, and crashes onto the tiled floor. Your bath products tumble down after him. You sigh, knowing you’ll have to clean up the mess and drive him to school tomorrow instead of sending him off tonight.

“Aww you care for me,” Dokyeom coos while you fuss over the ice pack on his ankle.

“I’m just making sure my Sybian isn’t too damaged,” you scoff at him.

You thought you would spend the night with a cozy book in bed while you wait for your face mask to dry. However, you find yourself blow-drying DK’s hair, letting him borrow one of your old t-shirts, and nursing his badly bruised ankle. It’s a wonder how he somehow didn’t end up spraining it after that nasty fall. You could’ve sworn you heard the cartoon swishing sounds while he tried not to slip.

Not to mention, he somehow talked you into cuddling with him in bed through several lame excuses.

Q. What if I fell off the bed?

A. Fuck, then pick yourself up I guess.

Q. What if I sprained my dick?

A. We have toys.

He wouldn’t take no for an answer.

Although, you have to admit it feels very nice to sit in bed with him with his left arm around your waist while the two of you silently scroll through your phones. He leans his head on your shoulder and hugs you from the side. You tilt your phone towards him so he could watch you tap through your friends’ stories. You can tell he’s more needy than usual, probably from climaxing more than once in one night and then undergoing the shower incident following right after – he screamed while you crumpled the spider in a wad of tissue. He’s latching onto you like a parasite, but he does give you good dick so you think it’s more like a symbiotic relationship. The way he’s clinging to you makes you think it is what it feels like to be trapped under one of those large teddy bears you can buy at warehouse retail stores.

He asks you if you’re going to the party on the weekend after you tap through the story of a mutual friend. You tell him you are.

“Be my date to the party?” he asks you.

You think he forgot you always go to parties with Jun and Chan.

“No thank you,” you politely decline his request, “I don’t do party dates.”

He pushes himself off of you, “Why not?”

“Because all of my past dates always left me for their friends and I would just spend every single party alone,” you grumble thinking about how many times you ended up taking care of drunk people you didn’t know because you ended up being sober the whole time.

“But I wouldn’t leave you.”

“There!” you exclaim while pointing your finger at him, “That’s what they all said to me.”

He frowns and crosses his arms, kind of upset you would think he would ever leave your side.

“Date or not I’m still not going to leave your side,” he grumbles while slinking down so he lays on the bed. He turns his body away from you to sulk.

The ice pack falls off his leg and tumbles to the ground. He continues to lay on the bed, not doing anything to pick it up so he can ice himself.

You know how stubborn he can be, especially when his pride is mixed in the equation. Part of you is proud he is sticking through being moody by refusing to move. However, you know how soft he is. If his future kid got a paper cut, he would probably end up crying harder than his kid. His kid would probably end up consoling him. His ankle must feel like pins and needles are sticking into it without the icepack, and he can’t do anything to distract the pain because his phone is out of his reach.

“Kyeom,” you gently shake his body. “You have to ice your ankle.”

He only shakes you off and brings his legs to his chest.

Usually, you would smack him with a pillow and call him dumb, but you think he’s suffered enough damages for the day. You know if you continue asking him to ice his ankle, he would just ignore you. So, you think either climbing on top of him or tricking him into breaking would be better choices. You choose the latter.

“Sigh,” you say out loud, pretending to talk to yourself. “If DK is sleeping then that means I’ll have nobody to cuddle with while I talk about my slutty costume choices.”

You see him slowly turn his head to look at you in the corner of your eye, but he quickly averts your gaze and turns his head back to its original position. You find yourself smiling at his action. He’s like a literal child. A puppy.

“Aww I thought Kyeom wanted to cuddle all night, but I guess I have to go to sleep because he’s asleep,” you tell him while leaning over him to check on him.

You see he’s pretending to sleep. He squints his eyes shut. His lips are poutier than usual, pressed in a thin line to probably stop himself from speaking.

“Maybe I’ll go sleep on the living room couch by myself so he can be more comfortable by himself,” you slowly move off the bed by trying to cross over his body.

“Noo,” he wails while sitting up to grab you. He immediately yanks you back down, trapping you in his arms. “How slutty is it, Yn? HOW SLUTTY?”

You have your morning lab in a few hours, but you’re standing alone in your dark kitchen with your head stuck in the freezer. The only source of direct light comes from your freezer, and you’re glad you’ve lived in your place long enough to navigate in the dark. The green digital clock digits flash on your oven. It’s getting close to 4:00 am, but you can’t sleep.

The icepack, or more like a water pack at this point, left a giant wet spot on your carpet while it thawed. It now sits in a lumped form in the side door, wedged between a frozen loaf of bread and some microwavable pizza bagels. The coldness of the freezer feels nice on your skin, but it’s not enough to make you feel numb.

You feel hot and stuffy, and your mind has a million thoughts running around at once. You make him tell you why you should be his date to a stupid costume party, and he tells you he likes you. However, his dumbass knocks out immediately after while he’s still holding you tight in his arms. You’re left alone with your thoughts and a pounding heart while you wait for him to finally let go of you when he is asleep.

Truthfully, you want to tear your hair out. It’s not like you couldn’t wake him up to make him tell you whether or not he finished his sentence. However, you think you’ve already tested his patience enough in one day. You would trust his “I like you” more if he told you while he was drunk, but telling you and then immediately knocking out? You really don’t know if it could count as a confession.

So now you whisper scream into a frozen bag of mixed vegetables while you think about everything that happened this night. You think about him showing up at your door. You think about the hickies he leaves between your thighs. You think about the way he kisses you after you moan his name.

“Seokmin,” find yourself whispering his name.

You don’t understand how this name is so different from the others, but your fingers softly touch your lips as if you just whispered something you weren’t supposed to say.

“Aww I get it. Jane Goodall. That’s so cute.”

“This is NOT a couple’s costume. I am clearly a hiker,” Chan angrily grumbles at the passerby while dumping another scoop of ice into the glass fishbowl on the kitchen island. He takes out his red handkerchief to wipe his hands and places it around his neck when he’s done.

“Why are you annoyed that people think you’re Jane Goodall? She’s one of the greatest scientists of our time. Do you not appreciate our women scientists? Women in STEM?” Jun asks him while he pops another sour gummy worm into his mouth. He licks the sour and sugary coating off his fingers one by one and wipes them dry on his monkey onesie.

You grab the bag of gummies from the table and dump the rest into the bowl. You tap and shake the edge of the bag until all of the remaining sugar falls into the bowl. Jun quickly plucks a worm out of the bowl before Chan turns around with a bottle of blue curacao in one hand and a bottle of coconut rum in the other hand. Chan insists on making fish bowls at parties for the three of you to share because he refuses to drink the jungle juice Jeonghan and Joshua make for parties. No matter how many times the two show Chan how they clean the giant clear plastic storage container they use for the juice, Chan absolutely refuses to drink from it. He argues that it’s a breeding ground for bacteria from people scooping the liquid with their cups, but Jeonghan dumbly replies that the amount of alcohol in the jungle juice should be enough to kill the germs.

By the time you’re done saying hello to some friends, Chan is already done making the bowl. He takes off his sunglasses and hangs it from his blue and grey colored top, looking at his creation with satisfaction. He swirls the bright blue concoction with three straws and tops it off with a paper umbrella toothpick he found in Jeonghan’s kitchen cabinets. Bon appétit.

The bright blue concoction stains your tongue, but it gives you a really nice buzz before you know how its aftereffects will hit you like a giant tsunami later. However, any precautious thought about getting too drunk and waking up with a massive hangover gets thrown out the window when Chan reminds you that the reason why the three of you took a ride-share cab is that you wantedto get fucked up. So the three of you smile and continue drinking.

The three of you are about two-thirds into finishing the fish bowl when you see DK and his friends stumble through the front door. DK’s dressed in the same slutty fireman costume he wears – the firefighter suit hanging low on his hips with the shoulder straps dangling, the hose on his shoulder, and the white tank top decorated with streaks of ash. You see Jeonghan greet him with a jello shot in his hand. The firefighter takes it from him and swirls his tongue around the perimeter of the jello, loosening it from the tiny container, and knocks it back swiftly in one go. He passes the container back to Jeonghan with no amount of blue raspberry flavored gelatin remaining on the inside. And all you can do is stare at him with your straw in your mouth while your friends attempt to play Jenga in their buzzed states.

It’s not long before you take your eyes off DK and realize that you finished the rest of the bowl by yourself. You tap in while Jun taps out of the game so he can happily scoop the slimy gummies out of the bowl and into his mouth. The tower looks jagged enough that one knee bumping against the table leg can easily knock the tower over. Shrek places their block on top of the tower with a shaky hand and sighs when the tower doesn’t topple over. A vampire bites their lip as they remove a side piece from the middle. You hold your breath as they slowly wiggle the piece loose, frowning when they successfully take it out of the stack and add it to the tower.

All eyes are on you as you hover your hand next to the piece that you want. You think if you take out that specific piece, you would make the tower a bit more balanced when it comes to how it leans. It also makes it harder for Chan to pull out a piece because he would end up shifting the balance if he pulled a block. Everything is in your favor – from the EDM song shuffling to a club song to your friends watching you silently – there is nothing that shouldn’t rule in your favor.

However, somebody behind you shrieks your name, and the tower topples. A few filled shot glasses are immediately placed in front of you, and everybody’s phone cameras are pointed at you, waiting to record you taking the shots. You sigh before bringing the first shot up to your mouth. You didn’t even get to touch the Jenga piece.

The perpetrator who stands behind you cheers the loudest every time you tip each empty shot glass over your head. He raises your hand in triumph and hugs you from behind your seat. The tsunami that’s been building up in the distance crashes. And by the end of it, you’re good as gone.

He tells you that no matter how comfortable his shoulder may feel at that moment, you do need to sit up and drink some water. And DK, for what seems like the nth time, hands you a bottle of water to drink.

He thanks the person who passed him the water bottle and stops for a minute. He points at him while scanning his outfit. “Hiker,” he finally decides on his answer.

“THANK YOU,” Chan yells at him while slapping him repeatedly on the back, unaware of his own strength, making DK flinch a little. Chan drunkenly decides that DK will become the fourth person to drink from his fishbowl. He drags Jun, who is chatting up Trixie from the Fairly Odd Parents, with him to the kitchen to make a fresh batch.

DK is the type of person to make you forget, but not in a forgetful type of way. He makes you forget about your troubles. He makes you forget about the resident knocking on his door while the two of you hide in bed together. He makes you forget you’re at a house party in a room full of people. At that moment it’s just you leaning on his shoulder with his arm wrapped securely around you. None of you are hiding the fact that there’s something budding between the both of you. It feels nice, liberating even.

“Hi baby. You doing okay?” he asks you after making sure you drank until the waterline hit the top of the plastic label despite him being extremely drunk.

“I like it when you call me baby,” you mumble while falling back onto his shoulder, feeling yourself slowly sober up.

“Yeah?”

“But don’t tell anybody or else I’ll have your head,” you turn your head and glare at him.

“I’m not sure if that was a sexual reference or maybe you’ve been reading too many isekai mangas that Jun sends you,” he chuckles while laying your head on his shoulder. He almost sighs in relief when you don’t blame him for you losing Jenga earlier.

He gives an okay signal to any passerby who asks if you’re doing alright.

“You weren’t by my side the whole time I was here. You’re a liar. Slutty liar.”

“I’m horrible aren’t I?” he kisses the top of your head.

“The worst.”

You never knew what “a beat” indicates in screenplays. You didn’t get why the screenwriter would want to indicate a pause. Nothing that you experienced in your life ever indicated a pause in the conversation. But now you understand. There are so many things you want to say, things you’re too afraid to say. You have questions for him, but you’re also happy he’s on your side. Maybe a “beat” is a filler. This pause in the conversation, you staring at him – eyes trying not to waver to his lips – it’s a mutual understanding between the two of you, something that makes up for what words cannot say.

“I need to pee.”

Now is definitely not a good time to be confused about whether you need to pee or if you’re simply horny.

Tonight the two of you are sloppy, bodies pressed against each other in the quiet hallway of a house party. Someone occupies the hallway bathroom, and you’re leaning with your back against the wall. DK stands in front of you with his left forearm leaning against the wall in the space next to your right ear. He kisses along your jawline, nipping the base of your neck. The softness of his lips caresses your skin, blending into the waves while you slur your moans. He hushes you by covering his lips over yours. You prefer him closer to you so you reach behind his head to pull him into you. His mouth opens, and your tongue glosses over his. He meets you in the middle, circling his around yours and groaning when you tug on his lower lip with your teeth. Your hand roams across his chest, and he pushes into your thigh, grinding against you. Both of you are too drunk, too lost in each other to care if others are looking.

He pulls his head back and looks at you with a hooded gaze. He can’t believe the sight in front of him and the ache he feels inside of him. He leans his head against the side of your ear, nipping softly at your lobe before talking to you in a low voice, “I want to pin you against the wall with your legs wrapped around my waist while I whisper every single thought I’m having about you into your ear. I’m going to fuck you so hard you won’t be able to walk out of this party without me supporting you. Everybody passing by will see how well you take me while you beg for me to pound into you deeper and harder. Then, you’d have to say goodbye to all of your friends while trying to keep my cum from leaking out of your sore pussy. I want to be able to open your legs and see it seeping out of you while I fuck it into you again in the car.”

Another beat.

This time it’s different. You feel your knees buckle underneath his body, sliding slightly down the wall. You look at his face hovering over yours, practically begging him to kiss you again. Anything. But he doesn’t. The two of you stay silent while you hear cheers from the living room. Then he proceeds to pull away as if nothing happened between you. He has the dopiest grin on his face. He cheeses at you – tiny wrinkles at the edge of his eyes and his pearly whites in full view. You’re still struggling to process the stream of consciousness he spoke into your ear.

“I like your pizza costume,” he giggles while poking your costume, especially the edges of the crust that hang off your shoulders.

“I bought it because I thought it might humor you,” you mumble while he takes your hands in his.

You see how much he’s gushing with happiness. You think he’s so cute, happy that your costume has such a positive effect on him. But you’re slightly annoyed that he’s able to move onto a different subject so quickly while you’re still stuck on the last one. You want more.

However, he tells you he really likes you and leans in to peck your cheek. When he pulls back, the bathroom door opens, and out steps Lee Jihoon who immediately grabs DK by his left ear and drags him away from you. “No fucking in the hallway,” he reprimands his friend.

DK only smiles at you while he’s being pulled away by his ear, too drunk to care, two finger hearts pointed directly at you.

You can only stand next to the vacant bathroom, now soberer than ever and seriously turned on.

You wake up on the floor next to your bed and slowly push yourself off the carpet, feeling the soreness in your body. You look at the carpet indents in your arm and then your surroundings. You notice your bed is empty, and Chan is asleep in his extra set of clothes, sprawled on the floor near your bedroom door. You can’t remember what happened in the latter half of the night, but you can at least deduce that all of you were at least sober enough to change out of your costumes and get ready for bed.

Your body is sore from sleeping on your floor, and you still feel pretty groggy. Still, the sweet scent of something coming from the kitchen is enough to convince you to walk outside instead of moving onto your bed to sleep some more. You stand up, knees cracking loudly, and you cross over Chan to exit your bedroom. You think it’s Jun who’s cooking, but you see him in his monkey onesie, passed out next to your rack of shoes near your entrance with a spare blanket covering him.

At least he has a blanket, you think to yourself. You woke up cold and with nothing covering you.

You see him standing in front of your toaster, wearing the extra set of clothes he keeps at your place. You see him place waffles into your toaster, minding his business while he hums to himself.

“Why are you here?” you approach him and stand by his side. You can see used wine glasses in the sink and opened chip bags you don’t remember buying sitting on the counter. The four of you probably continued drinking after arriving at your apartment. You hope there’s nobody else sleeping in your place.

“I dunno,” DK shrugs and proceeds to greet you by pulling you into his arms while he stands behind you, keeping a close eye on the frozen waffles.

You don’t get how he can look like he didn’t spend all of last night drinking. He looks completely refreshed with the kind of glow, an aura, you have after a good workout…not that you ever experienced what it must be like. He just looks like one of those smiling actors in fitness commercials.

You can feel his chest rumble against your back as he tells you he’s sorry he couldn’t cook something better for the four of you because he’s been living in the dorms for years. He honestly hasn’t touched a stove since he went home last summer. However, he did perfect cooking frozen food in microwaves and toasters. It’s the least he can do. He also quickly adds that he’s sorry he’s cooking all of your frozen waffles and would gladly reimburse you. You tell him to fuck off. There’s no way you would ever make him pay you back for making breakfast. He should know that by now.

The toaster pops, scaring you a little. A long yawn follows, and DK chuckles at you rubbing your eyes. He removes the waffles from the toaster and tells you to close your eyes. You dumbly follow, believing he’s going to kiss you when he cups your face in his hands. Instead, he rubs the inner corner of your eyes with his thumbs. “Eye boogers,” he says.

“Gross,” you watch him flick them to the ground.

“You thought that I was going to kiss you, huh,” he teases you while adding more frozen waffles into the toaster.

You grumble at him and stand to the side, leaning against your fridge. Your arms are crossed, and you watch him go back to humming the song he was humming before. It’s the same song playing from the speakers when the three of you decide to bring DK back to your apartment as there was no way he would have been allowed on campus in his state. It was partly Chan’s fault for getting him so fucked up – he couldn’t find regular vodka for the bowl so he replaced it with some Everclear he found tucked away under the sink. Jun tells him he really needs to stop snooping in Jeonghan’s cabinets. That’s when your memory starts to clear.

“Do you happen to remember what you told me before Jihoon dragged you away?” you curiously ask him.

You expect him to deny the memory or laugh at your sudden boldness, but he tells you that he knows better than to drink to the point where he blacks out and loses his memory. He would also like to stay true to his word, all of it.

“If you’re going to fuck in the kitchen, at least give us the waffles first,” Jun groans from the hallway.

DK winks at you in response, but you don’t know if he was referring to his second confession or if he promised the reality of his sexual fantasy. Before you can clarify, Jun appears in the kitchen, opening the dishwasher to grab a ceramic plate.

It shouldn’t be this confusing. DK told you that he liked you twice. You’re also pretty sure you like him. Nevertheless, it’s DK. He tends to joke around and switch from topic to topic. He throws words of affirmation at everybody he talks with. He confuses you even when you feel like you shouldn't be confused.

“God Yn. You can’t be doing this to me.”

He sits upright, and his hands are positioned to his sides, tightly gripping his bedsheets.

You use his thighs as your support as you ride him, slowly bouncing up and down so he can watch his cock appear and disappear into your cunt.

You feel him twitching in you as you let soft moans float out of your mouth as you arch your back more and lean your head back toward the ceiling. You make sure you gyrate your hips switching between circular and back and forth motions as you continue to fuck yourself on his cock. He wonders how your soft mewls would break into staccato moans if you were to continuously bounce on him, letting lust cloud his thoughts.

Then you lean further backward, practically grinding on him. He feels your ass rub against his balls, and he does everything he can to restrain himself from rutting himself upwards into your cunt. He knows your thighs are tired as your breathing gets heavier and the way you grind against him gets messier. You sit on him, your whole body trembling and twitching from pleasure simply from the feeling of him fitting so snugly inside you. He feels so warm today, so good, stretching you nicely as you tell him all he needs to do is to sit there and look pretty. You reward him by sitting upright, guiding his hands from behind his back so they rest on your ass. He kneads them roughly, feeling your skin fill the spaces between his fingers.

Your ass cheeks feel sore, and you can’t stop panting when grind on him, rocking him so crudely that his bed begins to squeak. You bring a hand in front of you to start rubbing your nub, and high-pitched whimpers instantaneously escape your mouth. Your soft circular motions increase speed, attacking your soft flesh and making you forget he’s in you.

“Hng Seok,” your face is scrunched in pleasure, “Fucking myself feels so good.” You smirk at him as you ride out your high, knowing very well it would piss him off. You can tell he’s already a little upset you’re fucking him in cowgirl when he doesn’t get to do anything but sit there.

Annoyed, he brings his right hand upwards and brings it down quickly against your ass. The crisp slap rings throughout his empty room, and he feels you clench around him as you gasp out loud. He slaps your ass again, finding deep pleasure in watching you pulse and quake around him and hearing you moan.

You lift yourself slightly upwards, having regained some energy, and reach under you to grab the base of his shaft. You watch his face contort from annoyance to surprise to pleasure as you stroke him, squeezing and releasing incrementally as you simultaneously fuck his upper half.

You can tell he is about to cum when he starts reaching for your face. He wants to make out with you, to dig his fingers into your back as you suck his neck. He moans your name, cavernous and gutturally, and tells you you’re doing so well. His sweet, sweet baby. The way you’re fucking him makes him go feral.

Just then, there is a knock on his door, and he immediately pushes you off of him, practically hopping off his bed so he can run to his door barefooted and naked. He tells them to wait a minute as he’s wrapping something up.

You sigh, quickly following behind him so you can hide in his closet, already used to having his residents show up out of the blue. You hand him his sweater and a pair of shorts before climbing into his closet and closing the doors behind you.

You hear him open his door a minute later. You’re not sure what the topic of their conversation is as everything sounds muffled. You hear DK tell them that he has to grab a few things first, and then he’ll meet them in their room. He closes his front door and opens his closet.

He looks worried. You observe it must be something important or an emergency as he doesn’t bother to make himself look presentable or deodorize the smell of sex lingering on his skin. He tells you he’s sorry and that he’ll try to be quick. He kisses you on the forehead before leaving with his stuff. However, he tells you you’re welcome to leave. And you sit there in his closet, alone and naked, the spot on your forehead burning. The motion-sensor lights in his bedroom turn themselves off, and you know you’re fucked by the way he gave you a choice to leave instead of telling you, begging you, finding stupid ways to get you to stay like he always does.

Your feelings are hurt, and you’re pathetically close to tears. Why is it that every time you look at him or talk to him, it feels like you have to stop yourself from having your confession burst out of your mouth? “I like you” always feels like it’s sitting on the tip of your tongue, and you’re too scared to confess to him.

It’s dark inside the closet, but you’ve been in his room enough times to know what’s hanging above you and sitting beside you. His business shirts are hanging above your head. On the other side of the closet, he has his pants. They’re organized by fabric type and colors. The jeans hang on the far right side of the closet. The sweats and athletic tights are next. Then he has his business pants. Dark colors are on the right, and light colors are on the left. His clothing hanger hooks are always hung over the closet rod, never under. Yet, at this moment, everything feels so foreign, like you’re a new person in a new place. But it’s because you are a different person now – a person who has fallen for their friends with benefits.

The metal front door whirs and clicks open. You can hear the automatic lights flicker. He tells you he’s alone and that you can come out as he sees your stuff in his room. You’re not replying.

“Shit Yn,” he opens his closet to find you still sitting in the dark closet, staring into nothing. “Aren’t you cold?”

You shake your head.

“Did you go pee? You should go pee,” he says expressionlessly. There’s not an ounce of care present in his suggestion.

He leaves your side and stalks over to his bed, throwing himself on it. He loudly groans into a pillow to rid some of his stress. You can only climb out of the closet, your jaw clenched. “I like you! I like you a lot” is still in your mouth, taunting you, threatening to escape.

“Is he done yet?”

“Bro he literally just started. Have a little more faith in Chan, okay?” you mumble at Jun while looking at your phone. You lock the screen and place your phone face down on the table.

Today is a day for firsts. It is the first time Jun and you are trying the café across the nice-looking residential building near campus. It’s the first time you try an iced mint mojito coffee when you usually have its alcoholic counterpart. It’s the first time Jun had a professor cancel class this semester. It’s also the first time Chan hooks up with somebody he met on the dating app Jun set up for him. It’s also the first time you’ll openly admit that Jun somehow has the most “game” compared to the three of you. Strange universe.

Jun knows something is bothering you. Your comebacks have become snarkier, yet you’ve been more lenient with whatever he does around you. He once told you to pay for the three of your dinners, and you passed him your credit card without saying anything. And it’s not like DK hasn’t been becoming less of the topic of your conversations - you’ve been quieter. And he doesn’t know what’s going on because he’s scared you might punch him. So he doesn’t ask you and only looks around the café’s nice interior, choosing to count the number of glossy white honeycomb tiles on the wall.

“How can you walk up to somebody and ask them out even though you don’t know them?” you blurt loudly at him out of the blue.

“Me?” Jun dumbly asks you. He already forgot the tile number he was on.

You nod your head while you bring your drink up to your lips.

He leans back into his chair and crosses his arms.

“You know how blunt I am.”

You nod your head, recounting all of the times he was called out for his bluntness.

“I think you already know how I can sometimes rub people off in the wrong way because I accidentally say things that I don’t mean. Sometimes people like you understand me and sometimes people don’t. I guess it’s like people liking you? Sometimes people will like my bluntness and sometimes it comes off in the wrong way. So I think it’s the same for liking people? You either like somebody or you don’t? So I’ll ask anybody out as long as I’m interested in them because the answer is always a simple yes or no.”

You’re so confused.

“You literally jumped from one topic to another. I literally could not follow you at all,” you blink.

“Well I’m sorry,” he throws his hands up in defeat. He’s not used to giving helpful advice nor is he used to having people go to him for advice. He wonders if he should start counting the number of chairs in the café.

He remembers an interaction he had in front of your apartment building last week. He was surprised that DK would call him and ask if he could meet him in front of your apartment. Jun told him that Yn is home and that he could just knock on your door, but DK unequivocally rejected his idea and told Jun to come. Jun saw him walking back in forth in front of your apartment building sign with a bunch of ugly roses in his hand, obviously stressed out of his mind. He asked him what was wrong.

“I dunno. I think they’ve been avoiding me for some reason,” DK tells Jun once he feels calmer with the older boy around him.

“But they’re literally wilting, bro,” Jun tells DK with clear judgment in his voice. “Some of the petals are black. I’d avoid you if you gave me wilting roses,” he points at all the petals with darkened tips and wrinkles.

“Yn will like them,” DK insists. “They think they look cool like that.”

Jun brought them to your apartment for DK, not wanting to ask or press him for more information. Although, he would have to admit it was a bit confusing to have DK ask him to deliver the flowers for him. Albeit, you are pretty scary when you’re mad. You were pretty enthusiastic when you saw the flowers in his hand, but you immediately slammed the door on him when he told you they were from DK. However, you did open your door again to let him use your restroom.

“Do you like DK but you’re having trouble figuring out whether or not he likes you?” Jun cautiously approaches you with his question.

You nod and spill your troubles to your best friend. You tell him about the two times he told you he liked you and about the day you hid in his closet. You tell him about the roses – how he didn’t text you or leave you a card so that you don’t know why he bought the roses and why he couldn’t deliver them himself. You tell him about the “not a date” dates and how he calls you pet names.

Jun tells you it sounds confusing, but it’s actually pretty normal to fall for your friend with benefits especially if you have a strong emotional connection. That’s how normal people fall in love. He feels for you and understands how confusing it must be for you when the two of you have basically skipped the dating part and landed in the married for thirty years part of the relationship without being in a relationship.

“But isn’t it tiring have to hide?” he asks you. “How many times did you have to hide because of a resident? How many times did you have to fake not knowing him or not liking him whenever you saw somebody flirting with him?”

“Too many times,” you admit. It’s exhausting.

Jun only nods and grabs his set of keys from the café table. He pulls out his wallet from his back pocket, “Lemme buy you dessert while I pay for Chan’s ‘congrats on your first hook-up’ cake.”

You stare at your friend, “You aren’t going to give me helpful advice?” You’re dumbfounded.

“Who do I look like to you? Yahoo answers? Reddit? If you want helpful advice, suck it up and tell him that you need to talk to him and talk. It’s going to eat you alive before your future cats get to eat you.”

Fuck. Jun’s right.

Today is a weird day for firsts.

“But I literally just nutted,” DK tells you while you storm into his dorm.

He’s shirtless and is wearing those grey sweatpants that ride dangerously low on his hips. He looks like he just woke up from a nap, his hair messy and matted. A bottle of unscented lotion sits on his nightstand.

“Did you want to shower or do laundry with me later?” he asks you, letting his door shut behind him. He follows you to his bed. “Did you want to get dinner with me? We have a while until Chan’s night class ends. I know you usually wait for him so you can walk home with him.”

You sit on the edge of his bed and pat the space next to you, telling him to sit next to you. He sits next to you and looks at you with a worried expression.

“I’m going to be honest, I don’t think I have it in me to fuck right now unless you find a way to help me get it up,” he confesses while scratching the back of his ear. He’ll say anything to fill the awkward silence, but he’s glad to see you after being out of touch for a week.

He sees you frowning, and his breath hitches when you turn to him.

“You confuse me DK,” your voice wavers. “I like you so much, but you keep on sending me mixed signals by telling me you like me and then acting like nothing happened. And then you’re so kind to me, and you call me those names while constantly treating me like I’m in a relationship with you when I’m not.”

“Oh, Yn,” his lip quivers.

“You don’t understand how much I like you, how much I want to stop being friends with benefits with you. But you confuse me so much. Your kindness is confusing and I wish you were meaner so I wouldn’t have fallen for you…why are you crying?” you slap his bicep.

He flinches in pain from the slap because he’s still shirtless, but the tears keep running down his face.

“I’m sorry,” he cries while clutching his arm. “I thought I was being straightforward with my feelings, but I hurt you instead,” he wails, “I’ve started liking you longer than you could imagine.”

You don’t know how to react to him crying while confessing, so you awkwardly get up and walk over to his mini fridge to bring him one of his frozen sponge packs to ice his arm.

You kiss him back before closing his large metal dormitory door behind you. His keypad whirs and clicks its automatic lock into place, and you make your way to the hallway elevators, giddy on the inside.

You make your way past all the bright green dormitory doors and stop in front of the elevators. At the side of the elevator is the large classroom bulletin board with DK’s stupid laminated face smiling at you. This time the board is sky blue. You can recognize the clouds glued onto the board anywhere – they’re sheep repurposed into clouds from when he did the board about sleep facts. Hot air balloons decorate the board. Expensive cardstock letters spell the title: Love is in the air, and so are STDs! You snicker at the tiny rips in the blue background from students ripping off the taped condoms to use for themselves before stepping into the elevator.

Your phone in your pocket buzzes when you step out of the elevator and exit the dormitory. You pull out your phone while standing outside. It’s a text from DK. He says he’s been waiting for a while now, but he wants to be a bit selfish tonight. He asks you if you’re free this Friday night even though he knows your schedule like the back of his hand. He sends another text to let you know he’s horny again, but he missed you. A lot.

Stepping to the side to let other residents in and out of the dorm, you make your way along the front of the dormitory so you stop under his window. You see him looking out to check if you made it out of the building. You wave at him and hold your phone up for him to see while giving him a thumbs up. He triumphs when he realizes you're agreeing to go on a real date with him, and you laugh when you see his figure disappear when he trips while jumping. He comes back to his window with a shirt on this time. He waves goodbye to you, and you wave back with a large smile on your face. This time the smile doesn’t drop.

#seventeen smut #svt smut #dk smut #seokmin smut #dk x reader #seokmin x reader #seventeen x reader #svt x reader #dk imagines #seokmin imagines #seventeen imagines #svt imagines #✏️ ━ himbocoups

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punkshort · 8 months

Text

Chapter warnings: language, violence, angst

A/N: this chapter might be a little slower than the rest, but I felt like it was important to establish how they are surviving. I tried to keep it spicy and interesting but please stay with me, I believe I have some great stuff coming up :)

Chapter Ten

Pairing: Joel x F!Reader, pre-outbreak and post outbreak

AU (the only thing I kept was the outbreak, Joel, and Tommy's characters. Joel's backstory is different, and the way he finds Jackson is different. I may include Ellie one day, I just haven't planned that far)

Fic Summary: You worked for Joel and Tommy a few months before the outbreak. The outbreak happens, and you and Joel get stuck traveling the country and keeping each other safe. Neither of you spoke about the feelings you had for one another pre-outbreak, and in a post-apocalyptic world, it seems like survival should be your only focus. But feelings can't be ignored forever.

Fic tags: Explicit Smut (18+ MDNI), Smut, Language, Canon-Typical Violence, Alcohol Use, Age Difference (Reader is 10 years younger than Joel), slow burn, mutual pining, angst, trauma, SA referencing later but I will put a big warning on those chapters

October 2003

Pittsburgh, PA

It had taken you nearly a full month to make it 400 miles, having to stop frequently and rest for a couple days here and there, but you were halfway to Chicago. Your bodies were not used to the constant exercise, and it required you to rest more than you expected. Joel suspected you were both deficient in some capacity since all you had eaten was canned and processed food for a month and exerting much more energy than normal. You were holed up in a small cabin outside of Pittsburgh, about 10 miles away from reaching the city. Joel had broken into the cabin late last night, and the two of you collapsed into bed once he confirmed the place was empty. He had planned to stay here for a couple days, wanting to make sure you were both as well rested as possible.

The next morning, Joel was looking around the small basement of the cabin, his flashlight bouncing off the dirty concrete walls while you went through the clothes left in the dressers upstairs, determining which ones were suitable to swap out. With winter fast approaching, you both needed to find clothes with longer sleeves and extra layers.

His flashlight scanned over a rusted metal shelving unit in the far corner. He walked over to inspect the items, finding mostly cleaning products, insect repellant, paint, and other chemicals. At the very bottom he found a hunting trap which he picked up to examine, pleasantly surprised to find it was still functional. He took it upstairs and placed it on the small kitchen table, then went to find you in the bedroom, where he heard you opening and shutting the dresser drawers.

The queen bed was covered in clothes, women's clothes on the right and men's on the left. On the floor you had tossed three well-worn hunting jackets, and on the other side of the room was a pile of discarded clothes that looked like they were meant for warmer months.

"Makin’ some progress up here?” he asked, bending down to take a closer look at the jackets and opening the pockets to see what was left behind. He triumphantly pulled out a few batteries and a lighter, shoving them in his jeans pocket. He picked the jacket up and shook the dust off before trying it on.

"Yeah, we got some good options. I think the guy's clothes will fit you, her clothes will be a little baggy on me but that's fine, I can do layers," you said over your shoulder as you scooped up loose socks from the top drawer and tossed them on the bed, getting to work matching and rolling them up. "Did you find anything useful?"

Joel put the jacket back on the floor and picked up a second one, trying that one on before settling on the third, which was a little big on him, but the thick leather kept him well insulated. "Yeah, actually, I found a hunting trap. I'm gonna go out a little ways and see if we can catch somethin', I think we need more protein, we've been needin' to take too many breaks lately."

"You want me to come with you?" you stood up after matching up the last pair of socks.

"Nah, I won't be long, you keep workin' on this stuff here." Joel grabbed his rifle and the trap, closing the front door behind him and setting out into the woods.

The cabin was surrounded by a thick forest but there were a few trails that must have been forged by deer given how tall the grass and narrow the paths were. Joel walked carefully into the trees, staying alert for any threats. Out this far into the wilderness, infected weren't the problem. The pair of you hadn't come across any more people since that night in his apartment a month ago but he made sure you stayed off the roads as much as possible. You weren't as quiet or withdrawn anymore, but he noticed you were becoming hardened by the world you were forced to live in. He had seen the slow progression as you both learned how to take down infected as efficiently as possible. He remembered when you first had to do it: you were so scared he could see the switchblade shaking in your hand as you snuck up behind a dormant runner. As the weeks went on and you practiced more, you became more comfortable taking them down, but he also saw the hardness growing in your eyes. He knew it was just a product of your environment and it was essential in order to survive, but some nights when he was unable to sleep, he laid awake and imagined a world where he could be a shield for you, taking all damage, and you could be your warm and sweet self again, safe under his protection.

Being out in the wild without the comfort of an apartment helped quell his feelings for you a little. He was less distracted when he had to always be on high alert, forcing his thoughts off you and onto survival. But whenever you stayed in a safe spot for a few days, like this cabin, he eventually found his thoughts wandering back to how soft your lips were against his that night, the curve of your hips in your dress, or the way you moaned into his mouth. The forced proximity and the illusion of safety usually meant his body ended up finding yours in the middle of the night and pulled you close to him. You never mentioned it, and neither did he, but he knew it was a byproduct of trying to stamp out his feelings for you. It was almost like his mind was saying one thing, but his body was refusing to obey. So, whenever he woke and found himself tangled in you once again, he didn’t allow himself to savor the moment and quickly removed himself from you before his heart swelled and he would be lost in you all over again.

It was about a ten minute walk from the cabin before Joel found a good spot to place the trap. It was near a big bush that looked to be home to some kind of animal based on the prints in the dirt. He took a pink scarf out of his pocket and ripped a piece off, tying it to the tree branch above the trap. As he followed his footsteps back, every minute or so he tore another piece off and tied it to a branch until he reached the cabin. He pushed the door open and set the rifle down by the door. He heard you singing softly to yourself in the bedroom, completely unaware he had entered the cabin. The first instinct he had was to chastise you for not being more aware of your surroundings, but the part of him that was desperate to protect you ultimately won, and instead he stood in the kitchen to listen.

You left the bedroom with an armful of rags you had made from the summer clothes in the corner, lyrics softly leaving your lips when you saw Joel standing there and yelped out of fright.

“Jesus, Joel, you scared the shit out of me!” you exclaimed before taking your pile of rags to the couch and setting them down. “How long were you standing there?”

“Just walked in a minute ago,” he replied, giving you a small smirk. “Found a good spot for the trap, I’ll check it before sundown. Maybe we’ll get lucky.” He shrugged the hunting jacket off and draped it over a chair.

You nodded and headed over to the cupboard to see what the previous residents left behind.

“Are you hungry? We have some soup here, and some canned stew. What do you want?” You turned to face him with your hand on your hip, but his gaze seemed unfocused and his thoughts far away at your question. Moments like this felt so domestic and it made him ache. What did he want? He wanted everything you had to offer. He wanted to turn back time and take back what he said to you, before he ruined everything. He wanted domestic bliss where you made him dinner and he had you for dessert. He didn’t want to be fighting for your lives while you ate expired Dinty Moore.

His gaze refocused on you and replied, “I’ll take the soup.” He reached into his jeans pocket and found the lighter from earlier and got to work setting up a small fire outside while you rummaged around for pots to heat up the canned delicacies that awaited you.

Joel had just left to check the trap before it got too dark, and you were left scrubbing the pots in the sink until your fingers felt raw. You dreaded any time he left. You hated being away from him, and not because you were scared, it was something more. You figured it out when one morning about a week ago you woke up wrapped in his arms again, for maybe the third time, but that morning was when you realized you only truly slept well when he sought you out in the middle of the night to pull you close and breathe you in. You were always disappointed when he woke up and pulled away from you so fast, leaving you feeling ashamed for being the only one who wanted it to continue. You had to constantly remind yourself it meant nothing, that Joel only had wanted one thing from you by replaying how mad he got for not sleeping with him that night. He never apologized for it, and you know you shouldn’t care anymore, but sometimes when you let your thoughts wander, it bothered you.

You put the pots back in the cupboard and raked your fingers through your hair aggressively, looking out the window to see if you could spot him. You hadn’t had any moments between you like that day in the subway when you saw the heat behind his gaze as you ran your hand up his arm. You convinced yourself afterwards that you had misread the situation, that the look in his eyes was not one of passion, but one of disapproval, and the embarrassment for the way you behaved sat with you for the next week. Eventually, the embarrassment faded when your focus was redirected to surviving in the wild and learning how to take down infected. You were both becoming pretty good at it, so long as you had the upper hand and noticed them first. Only twice did Joel have to use a gun to take one down, so your ammo reserve was still well stocked. But there was something feral that triggered inside you when you watched him kill: the little curl his upper lip made when he made contact, the fire in his eyes when the adrenaline kicked in, the way the muscles in his arms moved from the force of piercing a knife through their skulls. There had to be something wrong with you, nobody should find something like that attractive.

You heard his boots walking up the small porch, but you put your hand on your gun, just in case you were wrong. He opened the door, smiling proudly and holding up a dead rabbit to show you, and set the rifle back down in the corner by the door.

“I’ll go skin it, get it prepped for later. We can finally have a real meal for dinner.” Joel said, still holding the rabbit in his hand. “What’s wrong?” he asked, his smile faltering a bit when he noticed your expression seemed a little distant. You shook your head and smiled.

“Nothing, I’m fine, just distracted today,” you assured him, then turned around to find a small bag of rice you had seen next to the soup earlier. “I’ll make this to eat with dinner.” You plopped it down on the counter and went back to the bedroom to review the clothes you had set aside. Joel’s eyes followed you until you disappeared around the corner. He could tell something was wrong, but he knew better than to push it.

Joel was right about needing more protein and rest. You both felt recharged after just two nights but allowed yourselves the luxury of one more night indoors before heading off towards Pittsburgh. The morning you planned to leave was when Joel had let his guard down and you awoke entwined with him again. It was early, the sun hadn’t even risen yet. You knew the longer you let him do this, the more hurt you would ultimately inflict upon yourself, but as hard as you tried you just could not bring yourself to be the one to end the embrace. So, you squeezed your eyes shut and willed yourself back to sleep.

Joel stirred when the sun shone into his eyes through the thin curtains, squinting and yawning. As usual, he detached himself from you quickly, frustrated with his subconscious once again. After using the bathroom, he went outside to start a fire. The air was crisp and there was a sharp autumn wind that took his breath away. He huddled in his new jacket and shifted from foot to foot as he waited for the fire to flare up. He looked up into the sky, trying to detect if any rain would be heading your way, but the forest blocked most of his view. He heard the cabin door swing shut and twisted around to watch you walk down the steps wrapped in one of the other hunting jackets and carrying a kettle in one hand and the jar of instant coffee in another. He reached out to take the items from you so you could go back inside and grab two mugs and a spoon. He sat down on one of the thick logs used for stools that were surrounding the firepit and waited for the water to boil. You came back out with the mugs but also had a couple bowls and packets of instant oatmeal.

“’Morning,” you greeted groggily, setting the items down on one of the empty logs and choosing a spot next to him. You yawned, looking around the forest and buried your face in your coat when the wind picked up.

“Sleep ok?” Joel asked you, knowing full well he was setting you up to ask about the way he woke up clutching you, but much to his relief, it seemed as though that topic was never brought up.

You nodded, saying, “Yeah, better than usual.” And left it at that.

Neither of you were morning people and generally didn’t speak much until coffee hit your system. You had been lucky so far and found reserves of it at most of the places you stopped, but you had to dip into the stash from your apartment when you made camp in the forest. You sipped your coffee and ate your oatmeal in silence.

“Next time we find a sporting goods store, we oughta look for a bow and arrow, somethin’ silent,” Joel mused as he scraped his bowl. “We should learn to hunt out here. With winter comin’, it would be a good skill to have.”

You agreed, grabbing both bowls and the kettle while he picked up the mugs and snuffed out the fire. It was probably pointless, but you cleaned your dishes and put them back. It was unlikely the owners of this cabin would find it again, but it just felt wrong to leave things messy. This cabin provided for you both when you needed it and keeping it clean and in its original condition felt like the best way to thank it.

After breakfast, you packed up all your new clothes and replenished any food and rags you could fit in your packs and headed back out on the trail towards Pittsburgh. The forest was thick and lush, and offered a lot of cover, so you were able to make decent time getting to the city, arriving in the early afternoon. You approached a cliffside, stopping there to eat lunch and rest for the first time since you left the cabin. Joel didn’t want to start a fire and attract attention, so you ate some granola bars, peanuts and shared a can of peaches while you surveyed the city in the distance.

“So, what’s the plan?” you asked him, taking a sip from your canteen.

“Well,” he began, shoving the wrappers from the granola bars into his backpack, “I figure we should steer clear of the city proper best we can, especially the QZ. They won’t ask questions; they’ll just shoot on sight if they see anyone.”

You looked up at the sun in the sky, trying to determine the time. “We will have to find somewhere in the city that’s quiet, we won’t make it through before sundown.” You told him, looking back from the sky to meet his gaze. He nodded, impressed.

“Yep, you’re exactly right. Good girl.” he said, the compliment making you flush. “If we stick to the outskirts, maybe we can find a small shop or somethin’. But we’re gonna have to take turns takin’ watch, I don’t trust bein’ this close to soldiers.” he warned you, and you nodded in understanding. After you had spent a few minutes resting, Joel stood up, checking his revolver and tucking it back into his pants and zipping his backpack closed. You followed suit, shoving a rag back into your pack that you used to wipe some sweat off your forehead, and you both soldiered on towards the city.

It was approaching dusk as you and Joel finished clearing out a gas station in a quiet part of the city. There were only three runners inside, and you made quick work of taking them down silently. You helped Joel drag the last body into the men's bathroom, closing the door behind you. Joel wasn't thrilled with the building: it was filled with huge broken windows and left you too exposed for his liking, but the sun was waning, and your choices were limited. There was a small office tucked in the corner that you had emptied of the rolling desk chair and a few boxes of receipts so you could spread out your sleeping bag on the floor. Joel insisted on taking first watch, and you propped the door to the office open with one of the boxes so you could hear if there was any trouble before tucking yourself in.

Joel sat on the rolling chair by the front door, hiding in the darkness behind an aisle, every so often standing in a crouch to glance out the large windows for any movement. He was getting tired, but he still had a couple more hours left on his watch before he woke you. In an effort to keep him awake, he wandered over to the small electronics section behind the cash register, perusing the items on the shelves. His gaze settled on a Timex analog watch. He pried open the package and attached it to his wrist, adjusting the time to match the clock on the wall, assuming it was correct before sitting back down in the chair.

You had about 20 minutes left before he planned to wake you up. Joel was just finishing some beef jerky when he saw flashlights bouncing off a building about a block away. He straightened up in his chair, tossing the bag of jerky to the side, and hoisted the rifle onto his shoulder so he could see through his scope. He watched behind the aisle as a group of four men walked down the street in the direction of the gas station. He could see they were armed, noting knives in their boots, pistols holstered at their hips and two of them held military grade assault rifles. As they came into view, Joel scanned their clothes for any type of military insignia but found none. How did they get those assault rifles?

They were getting closer, but Joel still couldn’t tell if they were planning on entering the gas station or if they were just passing through. His hands began to sweat as he gripped his rifle tighter, his body tense and ready to strike. They were about 50 yards away when one of the men laughed at something one of the others said. The rest immediately shushed him, but it was too late. They froze as an unfamiliar noise echoed through the air from a dumpster they had passed half a block ago. Joel frowned, unable to identify the noise, but based on the reactions of the men, they knew. They whipped around, their backs now to the gas station, all four aiming their guns in the direction of the noise. It sounded like a high-pitched screech mixed with a gasp, then a distinct click, click, click. He heard one of the men swear under his breath, his voice sounding shaky as he shifted his weight back and forth nervously. The one next to him tried to get him to be quiet, but his nerves got the best of him, and a shot rang out, making Joel jump in surprise. In his peripheral, he saw you fly out of your sleeping bag, scrambling for your gun. He crouched as low as he could without sacrificing speed, and made his way over to the office, wrapping his hand over your mouth as you twisted around about to shout out to him. He put a finger against his lips, and only when you hastily nodded did he slowly remove his hand, turning back around to hide behind the front counter with you peeking over his shoulder, watching the scene unfold.

Two infected came ambling towards the group. At first, they stumbled and were slow, but when one of them shifted his weight and slid on some loose asphalt, they both let out a horrific scream unlike anything you had heard before and charged towards the group. Neither of you could understand the creatures you were seeing: they had a fungus growing all over their bodies but primarily on their heads, a mouth was the only facial feature you recognized since the fungus had completely grown over the rest of their faces. Blood had stained their throats and chests, their clothes were ripped and barely hung on, and underneath their skin looked wrinkly, but upon closer inspection, it appeared to be more layers of fungus.

The assault rifles were spitting bullets and bouncing off the clickers, as if the fungus acted like some type of armor. One of the clickers jumped on the man who had slipped, viciously ripping into his throat while its fingers dug animalistically into his chest and blood pooled in the street below him. Another man saw his opportunity and pressed his pistol to the back of the clicker’s head, firing and watching its body drop to the pavement. Then without hesitation, he aimed his gun at his friend’s head and fired, his body jerked once and stilled. In the meantime, the second clicker had made short work of the other two men, one already ripped apart on the ground while it continued its assault on the other. The man did the same thing: walked up and shot the clicker in the back of the head, and for good measure shot the other two men on the ground. He was now the last man standing, panting for breath as he bent over to rest his hands on his knees. That was when he noticed the blood seeping through his jeans and trickling down to his sneakers.

“Fuck,” he whispered to himself, sitting down in the road to lift the pant leg. Joel could see the telltale imprint of teeth and blood when the man aimed his flashlight at his leg. He dropped the pant leg back down and hung his head between his knees. Joel tightened his grip on his rifle, expecting the man to come to the gas station in need of first aid, but before he could blink, the man lifted his pistol up to the side of his head and fired, dropping lifelessly to the side and joining the pile of dead bodies in the road.

Joel twisted around to try to shield your eyes, but it was too late. You let out a shaky breath, one tear sliding down your cheek as you looked up at him, his face full of concern. His eyes traveled down and reached his hand out to cup your face, his thumb gently wiping the tear away. Your eyes fluttered closed, and you had to resist the urge to lean into his touch.

"You alright?" he whispered to you in the dark. You nodded, breaking the contact and standing up.

The whole attack took less than five minutes. Joel approached the broken window and leaned out, listening intently to see if the noise had attracted any more infected or people. You waited as Joel went to each window multiple times to confirm nothing else was around. Satisfied, he turned back to you, your eyes wide and still gripping your gun at your side.

"I don't think anyone else is around," he said, placing the rifle next to the office chair. You nodded, tucking your gun in the back of your jeans.

"What the fuck was that?" you asked, staring at the bodies. "So these things are evolving now?"

"Seems that way," Joel answered, leaning tiredly up against the wall. He fought to keep his eyes open, but you could see he was exhausted.

"Go get some rest, I got this," you told him, "I'll wake you if I hear or see anything at all, I promise."

Joel wanted to resist and tell you he wasn't tired, but a yawn pushed through and gave him away. "You sure?"

"Yeah, go ahead. You need your rest, and we have to get out of this city tomorrow." You waved him off towards the office and went to sit in the chair after you grabbed his rifle, using the scope to get a better look at your surroundings.

Joel didn't bother rolling out his own sleeping bag, he just tucked himself into the one you were using, your scent enveloping him as he drifted off.

The sun rose about an hour ago. You waited as long as you could before deciding to wake Joel. He seemed so tired last night, you wanted him to get as much time as he could, but you knew you needed to leave. Once you got back into the forest, you could rest again. You went to the back office, carrying a to-go container of dry cereal in one hand, and found him snoring on his side with his back to the door. You popped a few pieces of Cinnamon Toast Crunch in your mouth and leaned down to gently shake his shoulder.

Joel whipped around at your touch and grabbed your wrist firmly, his eyes wild. You dropped your cereal in surprise.

"Joel! It's me," you yanked your arm, but he still held your wrist in his grasp and it was starting to hurt. "Joel!" you said again as loud as you dared. He finally realized and let you go, stumbling back a bit as you rubbed your wrist.

"Shit, sorry, must have been havin' a bad dream, you alright?" he asked worriedly, opening the sleeping bag and reaching forward to examine your wrist. He brushed his thumb tenderly over the red mark he left, the gesture making you melt and leaving you with a pang in your stomach.

"I'm fine, it's ok," you said, taking your wrist back and turning away from him, trying to create some space. "We should get going, eat something quick and I'll refill our packs with any supplies I can find."

"You sure you're ok?" he eyed you carefully. He hated how you shied away from his touch. You nodded, opening up another cereal from the shelf and continued to eat while you inventoried the food in your packs.

You shouldered your backpacks and guns after you ate, getting ready to head out. After stepping out onto the road, Joel frisked the dead bodies and picked up some more ammo for your handgun, along with two extra flashlights. He checked the assault rifles, too low on ammo for him to consider taking one, but he did remove two of the knives and sheathes strapped around their ankles, handing a set to you. The roads seemed quiet, so you took advantage and got a move on, silently threading your way through the city.

November 2003

Cleveland, OH

The weather was turning cold and rainy, even a couple nights leaving a dusting of snow that melted early the next morning. You trudged along behind Joel in the pouring rain, trying to stay hidden and dry by walking underneath a raised highway. It was risky, being close to the roads, but Joel didn't see much choice. The weather hasn't been cooperating for a couple days now, and your journey had significantly slowed down. He glanced at his watch, seeing it was around 4pm. It was getting darker earlier now, and the storm clouds just made it worse. He sighed, shaking the water droplets from his curls, and looked around. You were near an exit ramp. He saw it led to a suburban area maybe two miles away, clusters of smaller one story homes that the builders made as close as possible to one another in order to sell more houses.

"C'mon, this way," he said over his shoulder, bringing you out of your reverie. You looked in the direction he was leading you and quietly celebrated to yourself. You were tired and soaked, you didn't want to set up camp outside again and the possibility of sleeping on a mattress gave you a second wind.

The two of you hid in some thick decorative bushes looking down a road called York St. All the houses looked very similar and close together, the biggest differences being the color the owners had chosen for the siding. Joel had kept watch for about an hour in this position, waiting until it got dark so he could see if any of the houses had flashlights or lanterns inside. You were squatting next to him, trying to control your shivering but the rain was pouring down hard, and your clothes were dripping wet, even under your jacket. Your teeth chattered as you inadvertently leaned against him for some warmth. Focused intensely on the homes in front of him, Joel's body tensed at the unexpected contact. He glanced down at you and saw your soaking wet hair and your lips a darker shade than normal.

“Alright, let’s see if we can get into this one right over here, follow me.” he said, helping you stand into a crouch as you jogged over to the yellow house on the corner. Joel peered inside the windows for a minute while you stood watch with your arms crossed, keeping an eye out for any light or movement on the street or houses. You heard a snap behind you, and you turned to see Joel had used his large hunting knife to break the doorknob. You sighed with relief as you followed him inside, shutting the door behind you.

You swung your flashlights around the room, Joel rushing to the windows and closing all the curtains as you inspected the house. It was small: a living room, kitchen, one bathroom and two bedrooms. Joel went down into the basement to make sure it was clear while you emptied essentials from your pack in one of the bedrooms. You pulled out a somewhat dry set of clothes and tucked them under your arm, heading towards the bathroom. You took your jacket off to hang up on the shower rod to airdry and got to work peeling the soaking wet clothes from your body. You figured you could just toss the shirts you were wearing and pick up new ones here, but you really liked the jeans you had so you did your best to lay them out to dry in the tub.

After you put some dry clothes on, you started to feel a little better, but you still couldn’t shake the shiver in your bones. Joel mirrored your actions after he came up from the basement, changing into fresh clothes and hanging up the wet ones to dry, making sure to take the keychain out of his pants pocket and transferred it to his new ones, and then met you in the kitchen where you were rifling through the cupboards to see if there was anything worth eating. You pulled out a bag of trail mix, some canned tuna, and a few cans of mixed fruit, setting them on the small table while Joel rooted around for some forks.

You were hungrier than you realized and ate quickly, all the miles you walked today catching up with you. Joel finally broke the silence after he finished a can of fruit.

“Which room did you want to sleep in?” he asked. This was the first time you stayed indoors where there were two sizeable beds. He wanted to give you the option, give you your space. You kept your gaze trained down at the bag of trail mix in front of you, considering his words. You knew he was giving you a choice, and it was completely up to you now on what the sleeping arrangements would be.

“I liked the room I put our backpacks in, why don’t we stay in that one.” you replied, still not looking up. We. Joel’s pulse sped up and he tried to hide his grin. You made the choice to stay the night with him, you wanted to be with him. It was probably just a habit for you, or maybe you were afraid to be on your own, but he didn’t care. He didn’t want to be apart from you, either, regardless if his reason differed from yours.

That night, he heard you softly snoring, laying on your side with your back to him like usual. This time he deliberately turned over and wrapped his arms around you, pulling you close to him. He breathed in your scent and nestled his face at the back of your neck as you let out a contented sigh, and small smile played across his lips as he closed his eyes.

Chapter Eleven

Taglist: @chiogarza.

#joel miller fanfiction #joel miller #joel miller smut #joel miller x reader #joel miller x you #joel miller fic #joel the last of us #tlou hbo #the last of us hbo #joel miller x f!reader #joel miller x female reader #joel miller series #joel x reader #joel x reader smut #joel miller angst #joel miller fluff #the last of us fanfiction #the last of us game #the way we were joel miller fic

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spencers-abit-weebish · 1 year

Text

Teasing

XxX

Warning(s): 141 Being unintentional bullies, Mention of burn scars from fire fighting, slight age gap

The One Where:

Pairing: Price x Fem!Reader

A/n: Reader is described as being small both in height and stature but has a past as a firefighter so they're super buff but its hidden under baggy clothes

W/c:

xXx

You grunt as you set your fellow solider down on the ground against the tire of the Humvee. You quickly take a small oxygen tank out of your bag attaching it to his face before grabbing a towel and your canteen of water wiping the ash and cynder off his face. You look back at the burning building you just pulled him out off.

"C'mon, lets get back to the safehouse" Blaze says helping you pick up the new team member and help him into the vehicle.

"Price, are you good to drive?" You ask. You look back seeing the Captain with a half assed bandage around his hand helping his own teammate stand up.

"Sparky help them I'll drive" Blaze says. You nod helping your teammate into the Humvee first before helping Ozone in.

"Get in" You told Price who nods as you climb into the Humvee after Ozone. You glance back at the burning building seeing whatever Shadows were still alive trying to get out as Blaze starts to drive off.

xxx

"You did good out there Sparky" Price says patting your back.

"I'm only as good as my mentor" You told him as you tended to the slice he had on his hand.

"I can't take all the credit, Blaze's known you longer" He said gesturing to your commander who was patching up one of your comrades. You smile shrugging as you caught Blaze's attention.

"Blaze, celebratory drinks after this right?" You asked.

"Of course, that's a stupid question" Blaze chuckles. You smile rolling your eyes as you finish bandaging up Price's hand.

"You're coming with us, no questions asked" You told him.

"Oh I shouldn't, I have my own task force I should get back to" Price said gesturing to the few Bravo Team members he has brought with him for this mission.

"Please, we never get to see eachother John, I'd really like to be able to hangout with you" You begged. John chuckles as he tries to ignore your puppy dog eyes.

"I guess I can go back tomorrow" He said making you cheer. "Ozone, Druid, Scarecrow, you guys can go ahead and head back to the command base, I'll be there tomorrow" Price said.

"You sure Cap?" Ozone asked.

"Yeah, let Ghost know he's in charge of Soap and Gaz though, I don't want 2 am calls of those two getting into petty fights in the commons" Price said making the three other soldiers chuckle as they grab their bags and left. Price smiles softly as he watches you start to take off your tactical gear. "You got out of there without a scratch" He notes.

"I was a fire fighter Price, I know how to dress for occasion and avoid injury, and we both know I'm good at my job" You smile taking your layers of masks and goggles off. When you roll up your sleeves though Price’s eyes move to the notable burn scar on your inner forearm, right over top where you used to have a tattoo. “Okay this was a rookie mistake and not my fault because the uniform Blaze gave me was too big and in the way” You say.

“Oh I believe you” Price chuckles.

“It was one time give me a break, we have the same scar anyways kid” Blaze says his sleeves already rolled up as he patched up his solider.

"I could use someone like you on my team, you know” Price says flexing his hand that you had just bandaged.

"Thanks John, that means a lot to me" You told him as you grabbed a wet wipe wiping your face from its greasepaint and cinder

"I'm serious darling, you know I only want the best of the best" He says.

"You are my best Y/n" Blaze comes up from behind you tossing an arm over your shoulder.

Blaze used to be your captain back when you were both firefighters, if anything he was the one that convinced you to join him in the military, becoming part of the SAS. From there during basic training he had introduced you to Price where you had immediately become attached to the older man.

"What are you trying to get at here?" You smiled looking up at the two older men.

"I'm asking you to join my task force Y/n" John chuckles.

"I'm giving him my blessing" Blaze adds.

"i- are you sure?" You ask taking a seat next to John.

"Sparks, you're my best soldier, and Price only wants the best of the best. As not only your commander, but you're friend, I really think you should do this" Blaze says arms crossed over his chest soft smile on his face.

"I would really mean alot to me if you joined us, be my second lieutenant" Price nudges you softly.

"Let me think about it John, and I'll get back to you," You smile softly resting your head on his shoulder.

xxx

"You better treat them right Price, because I will hunt you down if I need to" Blaze said.

"I know sir"

"Sparky, don't forget you always have a home here, and don't hesitate to let me know if the 141 is giving you a hard time because i will go up there and start handing out cans of ass-whooping" He says making you laugh. Blaze picks you up as he hugs you.

"Price, friendly reminder that I'm ranked higher than you and will kill you and your men if I need to, take care of my kid" Blaze threatens John one more time making you laugh.

"I'm just transferring team Blaze it's not like I'm getting married" You laugh teasingly shoving him away from you.

"Not yet my little Spark" Blaze says patting your head as if you're a child.

"Bye Blaze,” You say loudly at him grabbing John’s arm and dragging him away with your things. “Lets go before he embaresses me anymore" You whisper quietly to Price as you both head to his car. He laughs his hand on your lower back guiding you to his vehicle.

It took you one week to agree to join Price's team, it took less than 24 hours for the transfer to be complete due to Blaze having done all the paperwork for you ahead of time. Price took it upon himself to drive to you to pick you up and take you to the 141 command base. It was only a few hours distance but it still meant alot to you that he went through that effort.

Price set your bags in the back before opening the passenger door for you. He helps you climb into the truck before closing the door.

The ride was filled with mostly small talk, catching up on the few months the two of you had missed apart.

“What do you bring with you that you have so many bags?” Price asked glancing at the backseat.

“I live in the barracks John, I don’t have my own place” You reminded him.

“Still, I thought you were going to go out and look for a place last year?” He said.

“I thought about it but I spend so much time working it’s pretty much pointless, and you know my mother and sisters all pretty much disowned me when I decided to go into ‘a man’s career’ so there’s no point in finding a place close to home since there’s no one to go home to and I pretty much work 365 days a year” You said.

“Well that would explain how you managed to climb the ranks so fast Sparks, I’m proud of you, but I will say when I tell you to take a leave you’re taking it, I don’t care where you go but I want you to take a vacation” He orders making you laugh.

“I’ll only go if you do, seems fair” You tease making him chuckle. You head your arm rested on the center console and smile when John sets his arm next to yours, his pinky linked with yours making you smile down at them before looking out the window.

When the two of you arrived to the 141 Command Base there were a few soldiers outside waiting for Price. Your hand went to the handle to get out of the car until John stops you.

“Don’t you dare open that bloody door” Price scoffs at you making you laugh as you let go of the door handle. You smile as he gets out running around the front opening the door for you helping you out. The truck was fairly high off the ground and your civilian boots didn’t give you the height that your tactical boots did. You watched as the three soldiers that were waiting for Price were whispering to each-other as John helped grab your bags out of the back.

“Y/n these are a few of my men, Sergeants Kyle Garrick and John MacTavish better known as Gaz and Soap, and that is Lieutenant Ghost you’ll meet the rest of the team tomorrow morning along with some privates we’re training” John introduced.

“It’s great to meet you all I’m Lieutenant Y/n L/n but you can call me Sparky” You smiled kindly waving at the group of men who stared at you in shock. Before anyone could say anything Price had dragged you off to show you your room in the barracks.

“Oh they’re definitely shagging” Soap said.

“They have to be, I’ve never seen Price act like that towards anyone, not even his wife when they were still together” Gaz said before the two of them looked over at Ghost.

“I’m not agreeing with you,” Ghost says before he starts to walk off. “But I’m not disagreeing”

xxx

“Stop” You squeak as John laughs holding up a picture out of your reach. The picture was of your college graduation just a few years prior when you had gotten your PhD. John, Blaze, and a few of your friends had attended the ceremony but the picture that you chose to keep framed was of you standing standing with Price his arm around your waist while Blaze stood behind you both like a proud father.

While Blaze and Price weren’t far off in age with each-other Blaze was the protective older brother you always wanted. Price on the other hand, he made you happy.

“I’m just teasing Sparks here” Price chuckles handing you the picture, you flush as you set it down on your desk before taking out another picture setting it on your nightstand. John took a glance and the first picture was of your fire unit back home. He chuckles softly opening your bag of clothes putting them on hangers.

“You really love your teams don’t you?” He asked seeing you also had a picture of your former task force.

“Of course I do, I mean, back with the fire guys, Cap was the best father figure I ever had, and Blaze is like my older brother, they were my first family" You explained. John smiles softly to himself before closing your closet door and shoving the duffle bag under the bed with the rest.

"Well I hope you see the 141 as a family" John says as he sits down at your desk while you sat on the bed falling back.

"This bed is really comfy" You chuckle.

"I'm glad, now get some rest Sparks, I'll meet you down at the field in the morning" John patted your knee his hand lingering for a moment before he go up and left.

xxx

0500 sharp you were out of bed lacing up your boots and grabbing your PT jacket. You made it out to the field no later that 0510 waiting for the soldiers to all get there. You had gotten them all some protein bars and waters just incase along with Tylenol since Price had mentioned that they had recently come back from a mission a few days before you had gotten there and some of the soldiers were still sore.

“There she is, how’d you sleep Sparks” John asked walking up to you a few of his soldiers trailing behind him. You reached an arm up to him since you had been stretching on the ground. John pulled you up tossing an arm around your shoulders.

“Hey, I slept great my room here is so much better than the one I had back at my old base” You said.

“Probably because Price spent a week making changes to it” Gaz quietly whispered to Soap who nodded.

“So Sparky tell us about yourself, why that call sign?” Soap asked.

“I used to be a firefighter” You explained.

“Aren’t you too small to be a firefighter?” Soap teased. You inhaled sharply at the comment but decided to ignore it.

“Hey are those firefighter competitions real?” Gaz asked.

“Yeah, not every district participates on them though, but my Captain was very, exentric so in our case we never missed one” You explained causing both boys to share looks before they started laughing.

“Here’s the rest of the team Sparks” John changed the topic of conversation as he introduced you to the others.

Meeting the team wasn’t as exciting as you thought it would be. First of all, you were the only girl on the 141. Second of all, ontop of being the only girl, not everyone was open to obeying your orders, not when they had big bad Ghost to listen to. Third of all, the teasing, and it wasn’t as much teasing as it was back handed compliments and passive aggressive statements.

As the months passed with you being part of the team you thought things would progress, but it seemed as John was the only person on the team that respected you. But even he was blind to the way everyone treated you.

“You’re not as dumb as you look” Ghost says after you had offered an alternative plan to get out of the building unrecognized by the enemy soldiers.

“I like how you don’t care what people think of you, that’s a nice trait to have” Gaz says after you explained why you had met up with them at the bar looking the way you did.

“I never would’ve pegged you for for a fire fighter even less baseball team in High-school. My guess would’ve been choir or band kid, and I don’t maybe a teacher” Soap said still in disbelief that you used to be a firefighter and part of your high schools baseball team.

Ozone, Druid, and Scarecrow were really the only ones that treated you with the slightest bit of respect only because they worked with you on the field before and have followed your orders. But even they could be a bit insufferable at times.

“What’s going on between you and the Captain, are you two shagging?” Druid asked as he sat with you in the mess hall. You rolled your eyes getting up tossing your meal and heading to John’s office.

“Ya’know I think the only reason Sparky’s even with us is cause she’s sleeping with the Captain” Ozone told Scarecrow.

“You think? I mean she is pretty bad ass” Scarecrow said.

“Yeah but just look at how Cap treats her, he treats her so much more differently than the rest of us” Ozone said.

The straw that broke the camels back was on a mission. A bad one at that.

“Shit! Duck for cover!” John said grabbing you by your vest and pulling you towards him. Everyone nearby ducked as the building exploded and collapsed.

“Are you okay?” You asked him.

“Yeah you?” He asked. You nodded your head as you kept moving.

“We need to rendezvous John I don’t like it here” You told him.

“I know, but we need to catch him Sparks” John said. You nodded your head as you shot down a few soldiers that rounded the corner.

“Price we got a problem, bad one” Soap could be heard over the comms.

“What is it?” Price asked making you stop.

“We have our target, and by we I mean Gaz. He’s trapped inside the burning building with him” Soap says causing you and John to look at the building that was on fire and on the verge of collapsing.

“Sparks” John says. You sigh heavily dropping your head.

“Toad, Archer I’m gonna make a run for it, cover me” You ordered hearing both men reply with ‘Yes ma’am’

“With all due respect Sparky I don’t think you’re gonna be able to get them” Soap starts coughing clearly indicating he’s probably in the mess trying to help.

“I’ve got the target but I can’t find Gaz” Ghost says coughing over the comms.

“Both of you get out of there now, that’s an order” You tell over the comms.

“C’mon Sparks, can’t be too *cough* bad, we’ve done worse things before” Soap chuckles.

“God damnit Soap I’m your fucking Lieutenant so you follow my god damn orders, I want you out of there now, the same goes for Ghost” You yell. You stop in your tracks as you see a portion of the building start to collapse.

“Sparks we-”

“That’s an order Soap” Price cut him off.

Once you made it you spring into action. You take off your backpack grabbing your ropes attaching them to your waist, clipping your axe to your thigh. You take out a few oxygen tanks setting them up before placing your gas mask over your face and going in.

Soap is the first person you find since he was on his way out.

“Go, there’s an oxygen tank waiting for you outside” You told him. He nods as he makes his way out finding Price outside with Druid. Price immediately slaps the mask over his face turning on the tank.

“Ghost! Gaz!” You call out.

“Over ‘ere” Ghost coughs. He has the target who’s already passed out. You climb over some fallen beams getting to him.

“Can you walk?” You asked.

“Yeah” he says. You grab the target with ease tossing him over your shoulder. You grab the Axe breaking the beam you had jumped over after making sure it couldn’t cause anymore damage and help Ghost out of the building.

You set the target down on the ground grabbing an oxygen tank putting it over his face. Soap takes off his mask handing it to Ghost who slightly lifts his balaclava so he can breath.

“I found our target at the bottom of some broken stairs” Ghost says. You nod your head.

“I’m going back in” You said going into your backpack pulling out a fire hydrant.

“You go in missions with all this in your bag all the time?” Soap asked.

“I was a fire fighter for 8 years, I’ll be damned if I’m not prepared for something like this” you said.

“Y/n!” John calls out before you run back into the burning building.

“Yeah?”

“Please be safe” He begs. You simply nod your head running inside calling out for Gaz. After sweeping the downstairs you see a flight of stairs that have toppled over. You climb up the stairs using the rope for support making your way to the second floor.

“Gaz!” You yell finding him by the window passed out. You kneel at his side taking off your gas mask slipping it on over his face. Your break the window looking out. “I have him, I’m sending him down” You said causing the rest of the 141 to nod, the ones that hadn’t made it to the rendezvous point had met up there after reassuring they they had taken down the rest of the enemy soldiers.

“Sparky?” Gaz said as he slowly regained consciousness.

“I got you big guy” You said lifting him up as if he weighs nothing. You helped him out of the broken window and slowly lowered him to the ground. Right as you were about to untie the rope from yourself to go ahead and jump out since the height wasn’t that far, the floor below you breaks.

“Y/n!” You hear John scream. You scream as below you is a fire just inches away from you. You cough as you pull yourself upright looking at where th floor was once above you.

“I’m alright!” You yell out as you cough again. Looking around you you start to climb the rope. You find your axe and fire hydrant not too far away from the edge of the hole.

“Keep the rope attached to Gaz, it’s the only thing keeping her out of the fire” Price orders. They all nod as they start attending to Gaz.

“Captain, we have a problem” Soap says taking the gas mask off of Gaz, it was the same one you were wearing. He slips the oxygen mask over the soldiers face.

“That’s not our only issue” Ghost says looking up at the window we’re the glass shards still attached to the frame we’re cutting into the rope due to your movements on the other side.

“Y/n get out of there!” Price yells into the burning building. When you didn’t respond he starts to worry. “Bloody hell, give me that” Price says taking the gas mask from Soap. He goes into your backpack in hopes of finding something to help him save you but grunts when he comes up empty. Price throws all common sense out the window as he runs into the burning building.

“Sparks!” He yells. He hisses when he gets too close to a fire his arm getting slightly burned.

“John” You croak back. He looks over and last the burning flames seeing you hanging between the first and second floor, holding onto the rope and what’s left of the second floor for dear life.

“I got you Sparks don’t worry” John says as he starts making his way towards the stairs.

“No it’s too dangerous, get out” You shout back as your lungs start to fill up with smoke.

“I’m not leaving you here Sparks” John shouts back as he jumps over the hole on the stairs his foot briefly getting stuck after creating another hole. He quickly scrambled up the stairs as they collapsed behind him. Without thinking he runs over to you stopping when you shoo him away.

“The floor’s becoming fragile get out of here before we’re both stuck” You cough.

“Y/n your rope is about to snap and that floor is about as stable as Ghost’s mental health, I’m not leaving you here” Price says. He looks around the room before finding some books. “I’m going to try to hit the fire hydrant towards you, think you can grab it?” He asked. You nod your head adjusting your grip before reaching forward for the hydrant. Price slides the first book across the floor, missing the hydrant but hitting the axe. You watch as it misses you but falls into the fire below.

“Damnit John that was my good axe” You complain.

“Sorry darling, it was in the way” John says before sliding the second book. John almost cries when he hits the fire hydrant but instead of going towards you it falls to its side and starts to roll off the edge of the flooring. “Y/n!” he yells when you let go of the floor reaching for the hydrant. Your body drops causing the force of your weight to snap the rope. John runs to where you were holding onto the broken wall for support as he looks into the hole on the floor. You’re on the ground spraying the fire around you and yourself in the process due to your clothing starting to burn. John sighs in relief as he slowly jumps down the hole to the first floor.

“Are you okay?” He asked taking off the gas mask putting it on your face.

“Yeah” You say slowly getting up. You check yourself seeing that while you had a few burns in your clothes you were fine. You and John walk out of the building seeing the target was now awake along with Gaz.

“Let’s get going” Price says as you start to pack up your bag with the exception of the two oxygen tanks.

“You won’t leave” The target mumbles.

“I just saved your ass so shut the fuck up” You growl at him.

Before anything else could be said, you felt a jabbing pain right on your lower back. Making you double over in pain. Gaz and Soap both copy your movements as they both get shot as well.

“Sparks” John as he pulled you off the the side the rest of the task force doing the same.

“I got it, I got it” You said pulling out two hand guns and your goggles. The team watches as you step out from the hiding spot and start to shoot, you earn yourself another bullet which causes John to cringe as he grabs his rifle. He stands behind you taking out the last couple of guys.

You sigh heavily leaning back on him his arm going around your waist.

“Can we please get out of here before my adrenaline goes down” You sigh heavily.

It took nearly an hour to get to the RV point due to most of the task force member having injuries and trouble breathing.

When you all got there, the teasing began again and you were finally fed up.

“I refuse to believe little ole’ Sparky actually pulled you all out of a burning building”

“You’re so small, how the hell did you carry a man twice your size out of there”

“Got yourself shot twice In the process how the hell did you even do that”

“That’s enough!” Price barks at them. He looks over at you noticing your adrenaline hasn’t gone down yet, only being fueled by your annoyance and anger.

“There goes Captain again defending his girl” You hear one soldier whisper to another, low enough that Price doesn’t catch it. You finally snap as you stand up from leaning against the nearest wall walking up to the soldier that towered over you.

“So what?” You say catching him off guard.

“Come again ma’am?” The solider says suddenly nervous he’s being put on the spot.

“No no, don’t start with formalities go ahead, say what you’ve been saying for the past year I’ve been with you all. Think I don’t hear your taunts and whispers? Go ahead, say that I’m too small, or too inexperienced, I’ll never be as good a Lieutenant as Ghost, I’m not smart enough to be here, I’m not big and bad like the rest of you, I’m Captain Price’s little whore, his toy and the only reason I’m standing here right now is cause we’re fucking” You said finally confronting the entirety of the 141. The men all got silent causing you to bitterly chuckle. “Now you all want to be quiet, good to know the kind of men you all are” You say as you start to load into the trucks.

Price sighs heavily telling everyone to load up. He climbs into the back of one of the trucks seeing you tending to your wounds. He’s in shock on how your adrenaline still hasn’t worn down.

“Can I?” He asked reaching out for the tweezers. You sigh heavily handing them to him. Gaz, Soap, Ghost, Druid, and the target are all loaded in behind you. Your target has a bag over his head and you had tranquilized him.

You watch as Scarecrow and Ozone get in the driver and passenger seat the rest of the team loading up on the other trucks. Due to your years as a firefighter you also had medical experience so you slowly and quietly coach John through the proper treatment of a bullet hole so you wouldn’t take up space in the infirmary at base.

“How about your back?” John asked as he finished bandaging your shoulder to your liking.

You hold up the bullet you carved out of your vest, “Another one for the collection” You joke. John chuckles as he sits himself next to you a hand placed on your thigh. A silence with tension unknown to you and John was made. Soap was the one that decided to break it.

“We’re sorry Sparky” He said. You look over at him watching him take off the oxygen mask giving it to Gaz to put it to his face. From the corner of your eye you arch Ghost drop his balaclava slipping the oxygen mask over the targets face.

“Go on” You said your voice becoming cold.

“We didn’t realize a lot what we said was bothering you, I mean we’re so used to the task force being all men and usually we like to tease the newbies but I guess we forgot that you’re not new” Soap says.

“That’s a shit apology Soap, don’t make excuses, I should write you up for the shit you all pulled” John said his voice harsh with his soldiers.

“I think what Soap is trying to say is that we felt excluded. Obviously we’ve worked by Price’s side for years and he’s been an amazing leader and friend to us. Then suddenly when you come around it’s all about you. We all got in our heads and started believing the rumors going on about you two so we just subconsciously started trying to hurt you” Gaz says handing the oxygen mask back to Soap.

“I’m a soldier to him just like the rest of you, the only reason John and I have a closer connection is cause he’s been with me since I was in basic training. He and my former commander Blaze were the only people to show up to graduation due to my family pretty much disowning me when I chose more masculine line of career” You explain.

“I don’t think that’s what they mean Darling” John sighs heavily. You look at him confused as he leans over his face in his hands.

“You know when my wife and I split up I was a mess,” He started. “I had to take a months leave to get my shit together and darling, you had no reason to be there for me and help me but you told Blaze you’ll be damned if you let me fall into a pit of depression on my own” He said.

“Sparky we’re sorry about the rumors but there is a reason we thought you and the Captain were sleeping together” Ozone said from the front.

“Yeah he treated you differently than he treated the rest of us, but Sparky, the man looks at you and follows you around like a lovesick puppy” Gaz says.

“Okay that’s enough I think she gets it” Price says causing the other men to chuckle. You smile leaning forward taking John’s hat off running your hands through his hair.

“Fuck you, I owe Blaze 50 pounds” You giggle.

“Excuse me?” John says.

“Before I came here he had bet me 50 pounds that part of the reason you wanted me on the task force was because you have a crush on me” You smile

“He wasn’t entirely wrong, but you are amazing darling, I mean you just saved my best men from a burning building, and I guess that bloody asshole too” Price said gesturing to the target who had his head thrown back on the wall drool falling from his lips.

“Is he going to be okay?” Soap asked.

“I think I injected him with enough tranq to take out a full grown horse,” You said. “He’ll be okay, I’d say one day in the infirmary and he should be okay for interrogation” Ghost nods his head taking the oxygen mask dropping the bottom half of the bag before lifting his own mask to breath again.

“Back to the topic on hand, we’re sorry Sparky, and thank you so much for saving our arses even though we’ve been horrible to you since you got here” Soap says all eyes landing on Ghost who hadn’t spoken a word since you saved him.

But the silent nod he gave you was enough for you to smile and accept their apologies. You grab the first aid kit as you move over tending to Soap and Gaz’s wounds.

“You know there’s not much I can say about Ghost but I hope you all know I’m in charge of PT this weekend, and I am petty enough to hold grudges even though I forgive you all” You smile wickedly as you bandage up Gaz since he only got grazed by the bullet on his leg.

“Oh we doubt your training can be worse than Ghost, he’s ruthless” Soap says earning him a glare from you that made him shut up. As you finish patching him up you take your seat next to John again.

“Ghost I expect you to follow Lieutenant Spark’s training this weekend, and if I hear a single complaint from any of you you’ll be on cleaning duty for a month” Price orders. The sound of Ghost hitting his head against the wall of the vehicle was enough satisfaction for you. You rest your hand atop John’s that was on your thigh again. You side eye him with a smile on your face as you link your fingers with his.

“Darling” John whispered to you.

“Yes dear?” You smile cheekily causing John to chuckle and turn pink.

“Did any of my comments ever bother you?” He asked.

“John, you’re the only man on this earth that can tease me and won’t get their head blown off” You said.

“Tease you- you say” John smirks.

#call of duty mwii #task force 141 #call of duty #call of duty mw2 #call of duty modern warfare 2 #john price #captain john price #john price x reader #price x reader #simon ghost riley #john mactavish #tf 141 #141 x reader #gaz garrick #Weebish.Price

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cozage · 9 months

Text

The Daughter's Return: Part 10

Secrets in the Files

Part 1 | Part 11 | Table of Contents | Read this on A03

Word Count: 5.7k Characters: female reader x Portgas D. Ace CW: they’re just being cute and flirty ;)

You silently led the way, blindly crashing through the woods. You had to put as much distance between you all and the mansion.

“Where are we going?” Ace asked, quick on your heels.

“I dunno,” you breathed back. “Just keep running.”

You and Ace had each lit a soft glow of fire to illuminate the area around you, but you weren’t entirely sure where you were or where you were headed. Just away from the scene of the crime. Away from the hundreds of high-ranking officials.

You finally made it to the outskirts of the town with a few isolated houses, and Ace pulled your arm back, forcing you to slow down. You couldn’t blame him, you were breathing heavily from the amount of sprinting you had done. Ace had ditched his Marine shirt a long time ago, but you weren’t granted the luxury of stripping your clothes.

He pointed to a darkened house. “We should go in and lay low,” he whispered.

It made you nervous being cornered like that. If anyone saw you go in, or if Marines were able to follow you, the two of you would be stuck. Neither of you fought well in close quarters. But you did need a place to hide, and it was unlikely that the Navy would be going door to door to look for two pirates. That kind of news would cause mass panic and bad publicity on their part.

You closed your eyes and extended your observation haki into the house, checking for any presence there. It was empty.

“Okay, let's go.”

The back door was locked, but you found the key under a nearby stone. The two of you silently slipped into the house and relocked the door. Ace moved around the house, checking every other entrance point to ensure they were locked as well.

Whoever had lived here hadn’t been back in a while. There was a thin layer of dust across the surfaces, which was a good sign. You wouldn’t have to worry about someone coming home. But someone had lived here. Based on the house layout and the photos on the fireplace mantle, it was a family of four. They looked happy. You wondered where they had gone to leave a house in such perfect condition.

“All clear,” Ace said as he came back into the room. “You wanna change?”

You were still in a dress and heels. As much as you wanted to change, you didn’t even have anything to change into. You had left all of those things at the rendezvous point, and you couldn’t risk going back to a place where the signal had been let off.

“There are some clothes in the master bedroom,” Ace said. “I figured we could camp out there for the night. It’s on the second story and isolated from the rest of the house, so we’ll know if someone is trying to get in.”

You nodded and followed Ace up to the room. He was right, strategically this would be the best place to hide. The curtains were already drawn, so you could keep a small light burning without anyone realizing you were in there. He had already lit a few candles and had placed them strategically around the room.

You dug through the drawers for a comfortable set of clothes that would fit. The mother of the family seemed to be the same size as you, and you found a baggy t-shirt and pajama bottoms to wear for the night. Tomorrow you would change into something more practical, but you wanted to be comfortable for a while after wearing such a tight outfit.

You went to untie your dress, but the string was caught on something. You tugged more forcefully, but it still wouldn’t budge.

“Ace!” you called.

The door immediately swung open and Ace looked around the room, slightly panicked.

“Can you help me?” You turned around, holding your hair out of the way for him to see your predicament.

“Uhm..” Ace’s hands hovered over your back as if he were afraid to touch you. “How can I help?”

“Just untie the knot,” you offered. “I should be able to wiggle out of it once the tension is loose.”

“Right.” Ace’s voice was tight and nervous. His fingers clumsily pulled at the bow, trying to free it.

“Didn’t expect to be undressing me this early in the night, huh?” You were trying to ease the awkward atmosphere, but it just seemed to fuel it even more.

Ace gave a shaky laugh, his fingers desperately pulling at the threads now. After a few tries, he muttered a string of curses, pulling so hard at the strings that you started to be tugged backward yourself.

“I could just burn it off,” he offered. You could feel a soft heat behind you as he spoke.

“Ace, calm down,” you said, giving a light laugh. “I’ll never forgive you if you burn this dress. I love it.”

“You do look…” Ace hesitated for a moment. “You look really nice in it.”

“So don’t burn it!” you chided. “Just slowly untangle the knot. I’m not in a rush.”

Ace’s fingers began pulling at the threads again, but this time he was much more purposeful and methodical in his actions. After a few minutes, you felt the top loosen, and Ace let out a sigh of relief.

“Thank you,” you said, giving him a quick smile over your shoulder. “Now get out so I can change.”

He left the room, and you could hear him pacing the hallway as you quickly pulled off your dress and slipped on the clothes you had picked out. You finally opened the door once you were finished, and he walked back into the room, shutting and locking the door behind him.

He walked around the room, trying to keep himself busy as you sat down to remove your jewelry and face makeup at the vanity.

“My old man,” Ace said. “Is the strategy for facing him really just ‘run’? That’s it?”

“Yeah.” You wiped at your face and neck, eager to get the contour off. “If you’re trapped, you’re supposed to talk to him, make him like you. Run when you can. He doesn’t tend to chase after pirates, especially when he likes them.”

“Did he like you?”

You smirked even though Ace couldn’t see you. “Do you care?”

“No. What are these files?” Ace picked up the envelopes off the nightstand and held them out to you. He was trying to change the subject, but you could see a blush spreading across his cheeks as you watched him in the mirror.

“Oh, those.” You had forgotten about them already. “I grabbed them to make it look like we were gathering information and throw them off the scent of the real mission. I don’t know what’s in them.”

Ace turned them over in his hands, examining the front of them. “They all look the same.”

You shrugged, giving up on your makeup removal, and joined Ace. “Should we check them out?”

Ace gave you an eager smile. “Gotta pass the time somehow.”

You took the files from him and spread them out on the floor. There were four in total. The two of you sat across from each other, the files between you.

“Pick one,” you said, giving Ace a nudge.

Ace bit his lip and then pointed to the third one in the lineup. You picked it up and opened the contents.

“Boring,” you groaned, already handing the file to him. “It’s just about Roger.”

Ace tensed, but he took the file. “Like the King of the Pirates?”

“Yeah.” Your fingers hovered over the files, trying to decide which one to pick for yourself.

“You think that’s boring?” There was a hint of curiosity in his voice, even though he tried his best to keep it neutral.

“Yep.” You picked the first folder in the lineup. “I don’t think he was all that great, that’s all.”

“Why?”

“I dunno.” You opened the packet, scanning through it. It was about a desert island back in Paradise. “He was King of the Pirates, that’s supposed to be neat I guess.”

You gave a dramatic sigh and continued. “People hype Roger up because he started the Great Pirate Era, which is cool and all. But what else? What did he do before that? What legacy did he leave behind besides the One Piece?”

“It says here he may have a son,” Ace said evenly, eyes on the paper in front of him.

You laughed at that. “That’s just a wild rumor and the Navy knows it. I don’t even know why they still include it in their reports.”

“He’d be about our age,” Ace commented. “You think you’d get along with him?”

“No way!” You scoffed at the mere idea of it. “Roger’s son and Whitebeard’s daughter? Can you imagine?”

Ace gave a nervous laugh, but you weren’t done.

“There’s no way! Besides, if Roger’s son is real, I bet that kid is a total snob. He’s probably always using his father’s name to get away with stuff.”

Ace scowled at your comment. “I don’t think he would-”

“My daddy was the King of the Pirates!” you spoke in a high, mocking voice. “I can do whatever I want! I’m going to be just like him!” You broke into a fit of laughter just thinking about it.

“No.” Ace’s voice was sharp, and your laughter was cut off from surprise. His tone was sharp, almost bitter. “I don’t think he’d be like that. I bet he hates Roger.”

You hadn’t thought about it like that.

“Well, then he’s a leg up in my book. It’s probably the only way I would like him,” you said, giving another light chuckle. The whole idea was absurd. You returned back to your papers about the small island that hadn’t received rain in two years.

“Do you think he deserved to be born?” Ace asked.

You looked up at him in surprise, but his eyes were glued to the file in front of him.

“Roger?”

“His son,” Ace clarified.

That was certainly an unexpected question. You thought about it for a moment, trying to decide the best way to answer.

“Yeah. If he’s out there, I think Roger’s son deserved to be born. But I don’t think Roger deserved to have a son. Does that make sense?”

“Yeah.” Ace’s voice was hoarse when he spoke, and he flipped the file shut and set it on the ground. “Kind of.”

“I’m just saying Roger may have been King, but I’m not sure he was a good person,” you tried to explain. “He and Pops were rivals, but I think Pops did way more for the oppressed people than Roger. Nobody even knows what Roger did during his time as a pirate besides making it to Laugh Tale. If he wasn’t a good person, then he didn’t deserve a child as his legacy.”

“I know what you’re trying to say,” Ace said, but you could hear dejection in his voice.

“If Roger’s son is out there, I hope he got out of his father’s shadow,” you said, a softness in your voice as you suddenly sympathized with this unknown man. “It’s hard living in a shadow that size. Wouldn’t blame him if he hated his old man, just like you said.”

“Yeah,” Ace said, looking at you closely. “The pressure of living in the shadow of a legend is-”

“The kid’s probably long dead though.” You wanted to change the topic away from being too personal. “The Navy went on a mission trying to find any heirs the moment Roger died. I remember Pops being really worried and bringing me back on board. After that, I rarely left the ship until two years ago.”

Ace perked up at the topic opportunity. “When you went to Wano?”

“When I went to an undisclosed area,” you corrected.

“Did you meet Yamato?” Ace asked. He had his spark back, which gave you some relief.

“Yamato?”

“Kaido’s son.”

You laughed out loud. “No, Ace! I didn’t sail to Onigaishima and meet Kaido’s son. What kind of question is that?!”

Ace puckered out his lips, pouting at your ridicule. “I did.”

“You did what?”

“Sailed to Onigaishima and met Yamato.”

You snorted in disbelief. “I know it’s hard to believe that I went to Wano, but you don’t have to make fun of me.”

“I’m not!” Ace defended. “I really did that!”

“Really?” You laid your sarcasm on thick. “I’m guessing Kaido didn’t mind the intruder?”

“You never believe my stories,” Ace huffed.

“Because they’re unbelievable!” you cried. “I’m sorry, but I find it hard to believe that Kaido let you come hang out with his son, and you came away from both of them unscathed.”

“Yamato hates his father,” Ace said, his brows knitted together in irritation. “And Kaido wasn’t there when I went.”

“And you just sailed into Onigaishima by accident?”

“Well…” Ace scratched the back of his head, clearly embarrassed. “I went to kill Kaido.”

“What is with you and killing emperors!?” you scoffed. “I bet Yamato and I would have a lot to bond over, with you trying to kill our fathers!”

“I hope you get to meet him one day,” Ace said, his voice dreamy and far off as he thought of the possibility. “I want to help free Wano from Kaido’s reign. And so does Yamato.”

“Count me in too, then,” you said. “Let’s tell Pops when we get back. We’ll get together a team and-”

“No,” Ace said firmly. “I already talked to Pops. He said we have to wait for the right moment.”

“But if we-”

“It’ll come,” Ace said. “I don’t know when, but it will come. And we’ll be there.”

“Yeah,” you agreed. “We will.”

“What’s your file about?” Ace asked, looking at your hand.

“Kinda boring,” you admitted. “Missing princess. Small country being manipulated by a warlord. Navy report speaks like they know what’s happening, they just are observing for another year and a half before they make a decision on if they should revoke his warlord status or not.”

“The World Government is really an agency of the people, huh?” Ace’s voice was filled with anger.

“Give me another file,” you said, putting your current one down. “This one is making me depressed.”

Ace handed you a file and picked up his own.

Yours was on a recent attack from the Revolutionary Army. It wasn’t anything special. You could see that the report had obviously been falsified in some areas. The Revolutionary Army didn’t just attack people in small villages for fun.

Reading between the lines, it looked like the Revolutionary Army had stopped illegal weapon trades in a small port town, and had gotten blamed for the aftermath that came with taking down the weapons dealers.

The Navy had “intervened”, placed the blame of weapons on the Revolutionaries, and had taken credit for solving the problem overnight. The whole thing made your blood boil. There had been multiple Revolutionary leaders present for the battle, but thankfully all of them had escaped from the Navy’s clutches. While you didn’t know any of the Revolutionaries personally, you kept tabs on them in case you needed to reach out. The enemy of an enemy was usually a friend. And your mutual enemy had sullied their name for self-preservation.

“Tell me about yours,” Ace said. He could tell you were upset. You never hid it well. Especially with him.

“I’d rather not,” you said, slamming your file down. The Navy was always taking credit for things they didn’t have a part in. It infuriated you. “Tell me about yours.”

“It’s a Rookie Report!” Ace sounded thrilled, and you crawled over next to him to look at the file.

“Is Luffy there?” you asked as you scanned through the pictures.

“Not yet. He turns seventeen in a few months, and then he’ll definitely make this list.”

“Who’s on the list now?” Your head leaned gently on his shoulder, watching him flip through the papers.

He stiffened at your touch, but instantly relaxed again. “There are three pretty notorious ones. Capone Bege, Trafalgar Law, and Eustass Kid. Each of them comes from a different ocean. But they’re already making enough of a name that the World Government is starting to get nervous.”

“I've heard of Capone and Trafalgar before,” you noted. “Capone is a big mafia name in the West Blue right? And Trafalgar…” You remembered where you had heard that name, and how you weren’t supposed to disclose that information to anyone. “He’s up North, right?”

“Right. And Eustass Kid is in the South Blue. Which leaves the East Blue wide open territory for a new rookie.”

You smiled up at your sandy-haired commander. “Luffy’s stomping ground.”

He grinned back at you. “Exactly.”

You nuzzled yourself further into the crook of his neck when you felt him stiffen again. His thumb roughly rubbed across your throat as he examined the day-old bruises scattered across your neck.

“What happened?” he demanded, his voice suddenly brash. “Did that Admiral touch you? I told you-”

“You did that, idiot,” you said, jerking away from Ace. You rubbed your neck, conscious of his eyes on you. “Last night.”

“I did that?”

“I didn’t have any other guys sucking on my neck!”

“Okay, okay! Calm down,” Ace hissed, glancing nervously at the door. There was nobody else in the house, but you understood his jumpiness.

His fingers reached out again, softly grazing over your tender skin. They were gentler than earlier, sending a shiver down your spine.

You could feel your heart rate starting to pick up, the air suddenly charged with electricity between the two of you.

“Did you like it?” His voice was soft, his eyes peering at the few marks still left.

You gave a silent nod, your voice failing you. Your chest was tight from anticipation, waiting to see what he’d do next.

“Do you want me to do it again?” His voice was low and smoky, and you could feel your body beginning to melt at his words.

His gaze moved to your lips, and then up to your eyes, waiting for your answer. You opened your mouth to respond, but you still couldn’t manage to get words out.

You both stared at each other for a moment, Ace’s eyes trailing back down to your lips. His fingers were still tracing the bruises on your skin, waiting patiently.

You finally gave a nod, and Ace wasted no time diving into you. His hands wrapped around you and pulled you into his lips.

You moved to get more comfortable, sitting in his lap and wrapping your legs around his waist while you swirled your tongue against his. Your fingers quickly became entangled in his hair, and you sent soft moans of pleasure into his mouth. He held you tightly against his body, and you grinded against his core in a passionate response.

Your enthusiasm seemed to humor him, because you could feel his lips tugging into a smile as he pulled away momentarily.

“Slow down, love,” Ace purred, moving down to your neck to pick up where he had left off last night. “We’ve got plenty of time and nobody to stop us now.”

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corruptedcaps · 6 months

Text

Something Wicked: part three

Read part one here

Read part two here

Jenna arrived at the mall and viewed it like never before. Where before she had seen it as a place to spend daddy’s money and get pampered while getting hit on by cute boys she now saw it as a monument to consumerism that made her sick. However it did have its uses she thought as she entered the alternative salon.

She remembered scoffing at the tattooed and pierced employees with her clique of beta bitches every time she passed it, often declaring she would never been seen dead in there. Now she looked at the pictures that adorned the walls with aspiration. She wanted that girls hair, that girls nails, that girls piercing. She wanted her very look to strike fear into Jennifer and her loser friends.

“How can I help you dear?” Said the lady at the counter and a sly smile crept onto Jenna’s lips.

Hours later Jenna stepped out of the salon feeling like a new woman. Her hair was dyed, her nails were black and sharp and her lip, tongue and nipples were pierced. She loved it all, especially the nipple piercing which she played with endlessly.

There was just one thing lacking now and that was her wardrobe. The baggy hoody was starting to feel like a weight upon her. She needed clothes that showed off her body and her impressive tits. Her body felt as though it was on autopilot as she entered a goth boutique called "Eclipse."

The store’s neon signs and edgy window displays drew her in, and she wasted no time browsing the racks filled with goth clothing. Her eyes fell on a particularly revealing black latex top and a pair of fishnet stockings. Excitement bubbled within her as she picked them up and headed to the dressing room.

Inside the fitting room, Jenna slipped into the a black latex top with matching latex min skirt, and fishnet stockings. She admired her reflection in the mirror, noting to herself once again that Lily had a great body before correcting herself with pleasure that SHE had a great body. Lily hid it under layers of clothing and timidness but Jenna oozed confidence, now more than ever.

A sinister smile curled on Jenna's lips as she admired her new appearance. The piercings, the hair, the nails, the edgy makeup – they all seemed to amplify her newfound seduction. With each passing moment, the lines between her old self and the person she had become blurred.

She whispered to her reflection, "There's a darkness within me, waiting to be unleashed. It's time to embrace the power of this body fully. This world has no fucking idea what's coming."

Her outfit complete she stepped out of the dressing room as a sales associate, Raven, approached, and Jenna suddenly felt butterflies in her stomach.

“Wow Lily you look amazing! New hair and new makeup? I’m glad you finally took me up on the offer to try something other than the baggy tops.” Raven said and Jenna’s mind became awash with memories. Lily frequented this store dozens and dozens of time, rarely buying anything. No, instead she came to see Raven.

Raven was a striking figure with a distinctive appearance that immediately caught the eye. She had jet-black hair that fell in tousled waves, framing her face with an air of effortless coolness.

Raven’s style was impeccable, reflecting her role as a sales associate in the goth clothing store. She was often seen in edgy, all-black ensembles that accentuated her unique look. Her outfit typically included a collection of silver jewelry and accessories, adding a touch of rebellion to her appearance.

Raven was a college dropout who worked part time at the store but Lily had memorized her schedule making she to never miss an opportunity to see her. Lily was infatuated with Raven and this obsession had rubbed off on Jenna without her knowing. This was why she instinctively went for this store.

Jenna had never thought of girls in any sort of lustful way but looking at Raven made her hornier than she had ever been before in her life. Lily never asked Raven out, too scared of rejection. But Jenna wasn’t Lily and Jenna got what she wanted.

“Well, you were right, Raven. Sometimes a little change can be quite… liberating. Thanks for the stylish guidance and for showing me a different side of fashion. I’m going for a goth princess kind of look, do you think I’m pulling it off?” Jenna said as she gave a striking pose for Raven.

Fear momentarily struck Jenna as Raven seemed shocked by her new confidence. Had she gone too far too fast? Her worry was dashed seconds later when Raven moved in closer to her. “No I don’t. You’ve got much more of a goth queen vibe.”

Jenna felt her heart begin to race a little as she sensed the flirtation between them. Her body was nearly red hot with desire and even Lily’s normally shy and reserved voice in her head was screaming out for pleasurable release. But Jenna was no stranger to this dance, even if this was with a woman.

“Is that so?” Jenna said moving even closer to Raven, the rest of the store seemed to fade away. “Well shouldn’t you be kneeling then?”

A playful smirk played on Jenna’s lips as Raven leaned in to whisper in her ear, “The question is would you make me kneel if I refused?”

Moments later the door to Eclipse was shut as both Jenna and Raven stumbled into the back stock room of the store, their hands grasping madly at each other’s bodies, their lips kissing any bare skin available. Jenna pushed Raven hard against the wall causing the sales clerk to groan happily. Jenna gave her a deep kiss as she grabbed at Raven’s sensitive tits. Jenna moved from her lips and started kissing further south before Raven stopped her.

“Ah ah wait. A Queen deserves a throne.” Raven said with a smirk as she led Jenna to a red leather seat behind some shelves and sat her down. Raven lifted up Jenna’s yet to paid for latex mini skirt and knelt down in front of Jenna’s glistening pussy and started licking her clit.

Jenna moaned an animalistic moan like no man had ever given her before. She didn’t know if it was Lily’s mind further merging with her own or whether it was something in her own that had awakened but she didn’t care. She was different now, she was better.

Running her obsidian nails through Raven’s hair, Jenna guided her new thrall to her most sensitive of areas, which Raven did eagerly. In the dim light of the stock room, Jenna could see a blinking light in the corner and realized the security camera was pointed directly at them. Rather than become concerned about it, Jenna instead felt a wicked plan take root in her mind. One so depraved and bad that she got even more turned on.

Jenna could feel any remnants of her cheerleading former life melt away with each pleasurable sensation Raven was invoking. She realized that as Jenna the cheerleader she was weak, hiding behind her blonde perfect hair, her rich family and her popularity. For the first time in her life she felt true power. Raven was eating her pussy perfectly because she wasn’t some rich spoilt princess. No she did it because this goth bitch commanded it so. Jenna and Lily were both dead now. Only Lilith remained.

As she came at this realization her eyes rolled into the back of her head cementing Lilith as the only personality in her mind. She was an evil, wicked little bitch and she was going to take Jennifer down and become the goth queen she was destined to be.

Lilith grabbed Raven’s hair and pulled her up into a dark embrace, tasting her own juices with delight. Lilith was even more assertive and dominant than Jenna was and Raven was about to experience it first hand. She threw Raven to the floor and pulled the shop goth’s panties out from below her plaid skirt. Lilith got to work as if she had done it a thousand times, Raven was moaning within seconds.

“Ohhhh fuck…. Ohhhh god…. Oh Lily!” She yelled as Lilith worked her way around her pussy like an expert, however she needed to correct one thing first.

“Lily is fucking dead, it’s Lilith from now on.” She grinned darkly as she went back down for more. Raven had never experienced such pleasure. She was no prude, and she had been called the opposite numerous times but there was something wild and animalistic about Lilith. Like a caged beast had finally been unleashed. She loved it.

“Oh fuck yes Lilith you bitch! You slut! You fucking queen!” Raven moaned. Lilith meanwhile was like a woman possessed, every second that ticked by cemented the new darker persona in her head. She didn’t want power anymore, she wanted chaos.

Removing her tongue from Raven’s soaking wet pussy she replaced it with three fingers which she used to expertly massage her lover’s sensitivities. As she did this, Lilith maneuvered up to Raven’s ear to whisper her silky words.

“Now tell me, who do you serve?” Lilith purred with the tone of a woman in total control.

“You my queen. Ohhhhh fuck! Queen Lilith!” Raven groaned as her body vibrated.

“And you would do anything for me, isn’t that right?” Lilith asked, knowing full well what the answer would be.

“Of course! Just say the word…. Oh goooood!” Raven gasped.

“Good. Then I want you to cum. Longer and louder than you ever had in your life. If you don’t do this, you will be punished, understand?” Lilith said as she twisted her fingers inside Raven to show she was serious.

“Yes yes yes yes my queen!” Raven said almost pleading.

“Perfect. Now do it my little cumslut!” Lilith demanded and Raven soon obeyed with a guttural roar and an intense contortion of her body. Lilith went back to her impromptu throne and watched in delight as Raven continued to writhe around in pleasure on the floor.

When she was finally done she basically crawled over to Lilith who sat casually on the chair. “Oh my god Lilith, you are amazing! I meant every word I said, I’ll do anything for you…. My queen.” Raven said on her knees in front of Lilith.

Lilith put Raven’s face into her hand and ran a sharp nail softly down her cheek. “I know my pet, which is why for starters you’re going to give me anything from this store that I desire.”

“Of course mistress, anything you want is yours. Everything looks so good on you.” Raven said showering her lover with praise.

“But course it does but it’s not just clothes I’m interested in.” Lilith said with a wicked smile as she turned her gaze up to the still blinking red light of the security camera. Raven followed her gaze to the camera and was confused but anything her mistress wanted, she would now provide.

To be concluded…

#f2f #corruption #bitchification #magic #evil bitch #corrupted jewellery #corrupted cheerleader #corrupted goth

136 notes · View notes

transgenderteensurvivalguide · 7 months

Note

my dysphoria has been very bad recently and i have found it very difficult to do things like showering, changing and sleeping especially. ive been over wearing my binder a lot because i find it very difficult to bring myself to take it off, and i keep wearing it for 30+ hours at a time which i know is bad but i currently have no other alternative and not wearing one feels worse than the pain i get by overwearing. i hate wearing sports bras and ive run out of transtape, i have ordered more but it probably won’t be coming for another couple of weeks. i don’t know what to do because i don’t want to damage my body severely, is there anything else i can do?

Lee says:

As you know, wearing a binder for extended periods can lead to severe health issues, including respiratory problems, rib fractures, and skin conditions.

When you feel like doing something that's harming you physically is your only option to cope because your dysphoria is that intense, you should look into getting a therapist.

Frequently binding for 30+ hours isn't a sustainable option and finding alternative coping strategies will be easier with professional help to help you deal with what you're doing through.

Two posts that might help with your specific questions are Staying clean and coping with shower-related dysphoria and Dysphoria when you have to sleep and those two posts really cover most of what I have to say on those subjects so I won't reinvent the wheel by typing the same thing but I encourage you to read both links.

Apart from that, in the next couple of weeks as you wait for your TransTape to arrive (And start the process of seeking a therapist!) here are some strategies you can try doing:

1. Layered Clothing:

Wearing loose, layered clothing can help obscure the chest area. Consider wearing baggy shirts, jackets, or vests to help reduce the visibility of your chest.

Luckily it's fall time (at least here in the East Coast) so it's starting to get a little bit cooler, some days, and I wear a sweater (at work) or sweatshirt (when at home) like 100% of the time just because I'm always cold and it's also an Autistic sensory friendly thing for me too.

See more: Body neutrality

2. Distraction Techniques:

Engage in activities that take your mind off your dysphoria. This could be reading, drawing, journaling, listening to music, watching movies or TV, or any other hobby or activity that you enjoy and find absorbing.

Engage in self-care activities that actually make you feel good about yourself, not just doomscrolling social media. And for those times when you are on social media, if you're currently following anyone who makes you stressed/unhappy, stop following them. It's your feed and you're in charge!

But if you find that it's hard to do the necessary activities of everyday living because you find yourself spending most of your time engaging in distraction techniques, and you're falling behind on homework/work, that's another sign that you need additional support from a mental health professional.

3. Grounding Techniques:

Practicing mindfulness can help you stay present and reduce distressing thoughts, but the kind of nebulous meditation stuff never worked well for my ADHD brain.

Guided meditation

15 meditation tips

How to do progressive muscle relaxation

Body scan relaxation exercise

Mindfulness skills and worksheets masterpost

Imagery

Imagery self-help

Relaxation

Relaxation audio

Safe-place visualization

I found specific things like grounding exercises, like the "5-4-3-2-1" technique (identifying five things you can see, four you can touch, three you can hear, two you can smell, and one you can taste), can help divert your attention from dysphoric feelings if you're having a Moment. This type of strategy is useful when you start to notice yourself spiraling to try and re-center yourself.

Soothing grounding exercise

Physical grounding exercise

Mental grounding exercise

Grounding techniques

How to make a grounding box

Grounding exercises

How to ground and center

4. Stay connected:

Connect with in-person and/or online LGBTQ+ support groups who understand what you're going through. Sharing your feelings and hearing from others who have similar experiences can be comforting and it can help you to learn new coping strategies and things to try.

In general, avoiding isolation is important. Join a club or volunteer for something, join a sports team, hang out with your friends, etc. Just don't stay alone in your room. Get out of the house if you can, or invite people over or have video calls or phone calls if aren't up to being out and about. Just stay in contact with people.

See more: Motivating yourself to socialize

5. Set Alarms:

Consider setting alarms or reminders to take off your binder and give your body a break. Even short breaks can help reduce the risk of injury.

Here are some links that may help in general:

9 strategies for dealing with body dysphoria

How do I deal with dysphoria?

20 Small Things To Do When Gender Dysphoria Gets You Down

25 Things I Do To Make My Body Dysphoria Feel Smaller and Quieter