#mind & his filtered voice + the “you thought they were listening” line | Explore Tumblr Posts and Blogs

anantaru · 1 year

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— telling him “i'm glad i didn‘t break up with you that one time”

including scaramouche, diluc, alhaitham, kaveh x gn! reader

꒰ genre ꒱ — fluff, a little sad (kaveh's part), we‘re so evil

— scaramouche

feathery, fluffy clouds breezily dotted the expanding sapphire blue sky as the incandescent radiant rays of eternal warmth— like fireballs, drifted across the sizzling nation of pristine wisdom.

scaramouche mellowly declined his head into your supple lap while you were indulging your trusted presence on a secluded area a bit away from sumeru city— his hair was deep tinged and glinted eminently, dark indigo locks that were lucently aglow from the smoldering sun riveting your frames.

you can still remember it vividly, the spellbound rays tottering down on your body as you nimbly closed your eyes for a second while carelessly scurrying your hand over his silky hair. It was rather comforting to him and you were aware that your boyfriend must've been immoderately drained from his taxing work load.

and by any means whatsoever, within the strong comfort of the fateful consolatory spot, a— you could say, brilliant yet a shade evil idea transited into the deepest edges of your psyche.

you pretended to listen to whatever scaramouche had to proudly talk about as your hand carried on to gladsomely delve further around his scalp, jovially motioning aimless symbols on his head.

his eyes wander shut at the closeness of you when he idly shifted the conversation into another topic, "this is fine." he speaks mousy— his breathing was fluttery and bounteous with love, yet although his voice was not lined out of lustrous silk, it did not trickle in an even consistent tone, you had treasured it nonetheless and his voice was your glaring favorite. "this— this feels fine."

that was it, the perfect timing, you suppress a devilish grin and got ready for your disguised scheme coming into wicked play, "it really is." you tried to respond in a false articulated stainless voice, "—and i'm so happy i didn't break up with you that one time."

bordering on a comical sight right under where your boyfriend was presently marveling on your lap, scaramouche had now instantly bolted up to meet your eyes in a part spread sight— but now something changed, an expression akin to filtered shock and discontent. "what?"

in all respects, he was done with his spoken words, because what made you want to break up with him in the first place? what instance in your past togetherness had been enforcing those negative, cruel emotions in you that you even thought about it?

it was a hurting, clear thought— additionally pestering him and it was more horrific than anything else pressuring his goddamn mind.

"what, what?" you silently ask beneath the lines of your regulated breathing, scaramouche never looked so lost before and you tightly bristled your lips together in an pursue to not blast your evil cover.

"what did you mean by that?" if he had to choose, scaramouche would rather have someone repeatedly run him over with a carriage than be in this clashing conversation, "you wanted to break up with me?"

to your appreciable surprise, he did not let his inner rage come to broad daylight, rather was he willing to figure out what has been going on that made you think that. Now, with the concern being all written across his pretty features, you felt as if you should come clean before he actually gets a heart attack from your wrongful play.

"tell me what i did, i will fix it—" the compression in his emotions had inflated as you snappily got a hold of his squishy cheeks, instantly cupping his face, "i'm so sorry, i'm messing with you." though you ended up awkwardly laughing with a sorrowful grin as to lighten up the damaged mood, scaramouche's mouthing took a turn— slightly dazed but also fed up, the penetrating gaze of him, previously a tone lower but now plumb with a diverting split on his lips.

"you.." the little mewl exposed more than a simple intrigue, "you will regret this." with an eye on him you leaned forward to kiss your boyfriend but scaramouche was one step ahead. He speedily took both of your wrists in his palm and dropped you on your back— making you lose stability of your body.

"oh, what's gotten into you?" he asks— innocently enough for you to believe it at first before he was puncturing specific places on your stomach, fronting matter to pinch and tickle the skin, "ah!" you cry out, whining at the burn, "i'm sorry i'm sorry!"

"don't do that anymore." scaramouche kept you on edge— exactly where he wanted you to be, "or i'll give you a taste of your own medicine."

— diluc

inside the limits of your prevailing ventures, you so happen to find yourself nonchalantly strolling over to your boyfriends tavern— the angels share, where he was, at this time, in the midst of closing the bar after another successful night.

in related manner was it a regular practice you'd follow closely, it being to do your utmost greatest to spend as much time as possible with your primarily preoccupied partner— granted that it was centrally you both walking home and then falling asleep shortly afterwards in your shared bed, though that alone made it worth it to you.

diluc found himself greatly engaged in properly cleaning up the bar counter and putting away a bottle of unused dandelion wine as you ardently knocked on the door with your signature thumps— so he knows it's you, before letting yourself pass through.

pristinely, diluc did not have to look up to see that it was you entering the bar— for one, as mentioned prior, was it the initial bangs on the large door the both of you had originally turned a habit as a humorous joke, as well as the recognized spreading presence of you being more than enough for him to figure it out.

he composes himself as his warm eyes then, without an ounce of wavering, flicker without delay to wholly greet you with his comforting calm manner, "you're early." he reminds you, thinking out loud, each new articulation of his being thoroughly tempted out in an urged chatter— it's noticeable, how unmistakable worn out he was.

"i told you i'd come visit before you're closing the tavern." you listlessly slant back on the barstool to take a convenient seat and you lively smile at him while diluc carried on to clean a couple of the utensils that had become irksome obstacles yet shyly quelling a spiking sneer in him, unreservedly molding himself into your homely aura, "i'm glad then."

in passing, you idly watched him for a brief while until diluc unexpectedly turned to you again, catching you off guard, "oh, i have something for you." he surprisingly hummed along each new syllable and you find yourself admiring the view in front of you, his face generously shading red, "i saw them and had to take it with me."

you recollect your focus on him when diluc spoke in a charming way that sent a beguiling spike through your pounding heart before you noticed something large in his hand; a bouquet of your most beloved flowers.

his posture stiffened a little— most likely because of a miniature impale of nervousness scurrying through his flaming veins, because what if you end up not liking the well scented, thoughtful gift?

though you had loved it, of course— even more than that and as he was eyeing your reaction up close, sensing how your widened eyes coursed brilliantly as you accepted the flowers in your hands, you gaze at him in a darting loving way, tightly squeezing the bouquet in your right arm to be able to give him a hug and express your utmost gratitude to him— for him, because he simply was the best in your eyes, the most attentive boyfriend to have ever existed.

"I do hope you fancy it." his rippling skin felt comforted back in your cosy cuddle with his large hand being closely pressed on your lower back as he made you turn on him closer. "i love it."

"— and I'm so grateful i didn't break up with you that one time."

well, just hold up a second? what.

"...umm, thanks." he earned yet another eruption of laughter from you though you had roughly closed it sunkenly in you, so diluc wouldn't figure out you're actually not being serious right now, at all.

diluc— though now greatly overwhelmed but rather leaning into a more confused state of mind in terms of your sudden exclaim, manages to huff out a low sigh while bringing his attention back to you, slowly drawing himself away from your close embrace.

for a fleeting spell, you both looked into each other's eyes boundlessly astounded and bowled over— stated in a more frequent type of way; it was in actuality diluc who was looking wholly rendered at loss of words when you tried your dearest to keep your wicked giggles in check.

but then, he talks again, although pumped full with overthrowing worry in his once glowing eyes, "I'm not certain on how to appropriately tackle this conversation." he mumbles while virtually thinking out loud, "can you perhaps tell me what i did wrong so i can get better— get better for you?"

quite frankly, you couldn't take it anymore and soon your whole body was filled with great misdeed, he may not have a clue right now but in total truth you were only trying to get a glimpse of a somewhat saddened reaction out of your boyfriend— which now, might've been a little evil, though, after all, you couldn't really pass up on that perfect presented opportunity.

"you did nothing." you squeal in panic, gently placing the flowers on the bar counter to keep your attention on him, "i'm sorry i was messing with you."

you pretty much fell into his arms and diluc instantly had hugged you right back— though still in shock, his eyes growing in the size of saucers. You lied close into his shoulder and tried to lift the mood with a humane touch of your hands on his back.

"you menace." diluc reveals an adorable sigh as his chest heaved up and down, the shock still lingering deep but a smile minimally lifted at his lips when he turned to hearteningly pant out a shaky heave into your arms. "you absolute menace."

— alhaitham

"and that’s correct." alhaitham kindly affirms towards the region of your direction while being patiently sat before your pretty eyes, fixedly gulping down the nascent saliva in his mouth to enunciate his following words, "—now to the next question."

undoubtably and much to your sweet pleasure, your boyfriend alhaitham took his current, new acquired position, awfully serious!

on the whole, he was an excellent tutor— strikingly perfect for your upcoming exam which had caused you a countless amount of sleepless nights, while he was aware of your struggles, he had put it upon himself to aid you as much as he was able to.

bizarrely to you, he was a bit too serious and stern, bound and determined while forgetting to keep it natural. Yet alhaitham understands and recognizes your strengths, turning it attainable to solicit 100% of your greatest strong point, presenting you with your highest amount of concentration to study.

"how does this look?" you ask, rather confident in your mannerism as you firmly shoved the fully scribbled paper into his close direction. He looks at it with hawk eyes and crinkles his brows a little— that being an usual trait whenever he found himself in large engrossment.

"incorrect but i didn't expect you to figure it out anyways."

unfortunately to you, alhaitham had a— let's say, interesting habit of spelling out his words before actually thinking his sentences through enough, or maybe he modestly didn't give a damn about how he was perceived or presented to the audience, didn't matter to him if the person he was talking to is a stranger or his significant other, you.

one quiet, internal thought ultimately, without sweet decorations, turned into two hellish thoughts and you had yourself wonder if you were even capable to pay him back just a little bit, in your usual, evil fashion.

"that's rude!" you falsely squeal out, fearing he may have a clue on your new doings right away as you dramatically drew your hand above your heart to act out a pain in your chest.

"you asked — i answered." you could clearly see he didn't think his wording was incorrect or maybe a minuscule portion grating, so you decided to sprinkle a little sass on him, "you're right and i'd be lost without you." your eyes innocently trail to his face, "i'm so grateful you're helping me study."

you were on the verge of exploding, really, the tempting laugh was overfilling your insides but you pushed through, ending your sentence at last, "— but i'm even more grateful to myself that i didn't break up with you that one time."

alhaitham quirks a brow but did not face you right away, did you want to argue with him? or were you trying to be funny again? because speaking from past lived occasions, he wasn't new to you pulling one of those particular intrigues at him.

well, then again, what if it wasn't a tasteless, blundering joke? what if, you were serious this time, honestly would he even blame you? after all, alhaitham knew himself better than anyone else did.

"so, a break up?" he leans back into his chair before crossing his arms around his body, slowly eyeing you from your eyes, to your collarbones and back again. "mhm." you agree with a hum, although both of you being sat, he was easily towering over you with his stance alone, only making you fuse further into yourself.

"and when?" in fact, he will not let this die down, he will manage to get everything he required out of you while barely leaving you to gasp for air.

you wonder if he had already figured it out (he did), your eyes skimming over the entire table to bring your heedfulness somewhere else. "umm, i don't know!" the comedic side of it all was extremely whimsical to your boyfriend— and his plan to lure you into where he wanted you to seem to succeed as well.

"look at me." that damned voice change, nothing that you cannot withstand, nothing but that precise grab his gravelly tone color had on you.

right there, you met his doubtless, assertive eyes, unshaken in his own views. alhaitham unhurriedly leans forward into the table while holding eye contact with you, you're watching him, waiting for chaos to unfold or him laughing at how silly it was for you to even try to fool him.

"maybe next time you get lucky." he quickly wipes his tongue over his mouth, "do you know that you're really bad at acting? it's rather comical watching you try."

heavily exhaling the stored air in your strained lungs, you, wholly fed up with him, rolled your eyes at your oh so confident boyfriend who just didn't know when to keep his mouth sealed tight, "oh shut up!"

— kaveh

love and enchantment, a formidable devotion for another, highly arising out of real personal ties and notable attraction.

for kaveh, those meanings were everything and all, the totality all at once.

beyond a trace of a single doubt, it was unmistakable visible on just how much immeasurable energy and serious effort your boyfriend put into having your blossoming relationship as uplifting, easing and heart warming as possible.

you're his absorbing soulmate and his riveting gratitude and love for you— which he most definitely conveys through those honeyed, dreamy smiles on his plump lips, were sticking out a mile.

from all accessible appearances, one might as well pick up on the nurturing connection that is shared by you lovebirds and how kaveh would always come up with newfound actions to have it shown to everyone in many different varieties.

tonight, it was outside of sumeru city— on top of a idyllic meadow, with the boundless sky being set ablaze by the setting sun right above you, soon to follow was the pale, ashen crescent turned moon, vividly luminous like a silvery claw and fuck, that glittering glow in your eyes as you watched from afar, kaveh wasn't sure if he could fall in love with you even deeper than he already was.

"this is so pretty." the fresh feeling of your body thoughtlessly sloping back into the consoling ground locked out each and every paining worry from your gladdening thoughts.

"i knew you'd like it, i just knew—." kaveh keeps himself from embarrassingly tumbling over his own spoken words, his nails now clawing into his palms and leaving marks— it might've been the nervousness, he fears, although you both had been together for a good while he can catch himself quite frequently becoming shy in his mannerism.

but his phraseology meant nothing, his passing wordage, blank.

there could be sure up to a million and one descriptions to intently describe this current moment happening yet nothing would ever explain it how he saw it, how he perceived you.

aside from that, you also breathed fresh life into his somewhat monotone one, with your sneaky intrigues keeping him on edge the whole time.

"this was a good idea." you're revealing a soft glare to him, a hidden one that from the outside, appeared to be angelic and endearing, though from the inside— salted away an evil plan that was camouflaging your entire mind for the whole day.

call it stowed up curiosity or simple boredom of your person, but you cannot keep yourself from passing up on it, longing to witness kaveh leaving his protective, calming bubble for once in a while.

sure, obviously, he could get mad at you, aggravated or purely stare at you through dead, saddened eyes, but then you'd always be there to make it up to him, in your own charming ways.

kaveh plushly lays on the warm ground before idly securing one of his hands under his head, uncaringly bolstering himself up, "this reminds me of something." you suddenly claim in the direction of your lover so he can hear you, no matter what, "of what?"

in the general run of things you couldn't help yourself but smile at how quick kaveh could get fascinated or absorbed on a random topic you unhurriedly throw into his course of line— no care in the world on what it was, but if you don't tell him and keep the desired answers away, he'd regularly think about it, day on day, until you do end up saying it out loud— which you then, do. "ah, it's nothing!"

"— i'm just glad i didn't break up with you that one time, you know?"

.. silence ..

"..."

"kaveh?"

"..."

you might enquire some sort of exclaim or wonder now, did he pass out or? no silly, of course not! it did feel like he was about to suffer from a large heart attack though.

"b-break up?" he soundlessly mutters, panic, immense panic, if he can afford to say anything coherent at all but he was as still as a mouse, indistinct, until ..

"as in, breaking up? a BREAK up?!"

"oh it's nothing." you hushedly wave your hand in front of his anxious face, without concern leaving yourself to fall back and carry on to glimpse up at the moonlight sky.

"what do you mean n o t h i n g?"

"this is tERRIBLE." - "utterly TERRIBLE." deficient panic pitifully munched on your boyfriends entire being, deeply festering itself into the pitched shadows of his now darkened heart.

"wait please stop." your words did not hit him, it's like he turned himself on autopilot, his eyes large as he looked into the distance, muttering something underneath his pebbly pants which you couldn't decipher what he was babbling over. "it's a joke, please look at me."

no because maybe you did go too far and after encircling your arms around kaveh's body you held him close to you, so the repeated knocks of your heart could be sensed by him.

"i'm sorry i will never do this again." you are met with his— now glassy laced, scarlet eyes, not once does he speak anymore, because quite frankly, for a second he was scared to his very core, in a frenzy, because life without you, is no life at all, no substantial vitality.

but then, a tone of him, irregular and broken, "don't do this." - "again."

you mildly wipe the warm tears off his face and lovingly keep a couple kisses on his forehead— left cheek, right cheek, his cute nose and ultimately finished your sweet attention on his soft lips— that always tasted like roses and felt so tender on top of yours, easily crawling yourself into his lap.

"i'm sorry, i love you and i'd never break up with you, ever."

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rhys-writes-some-shit · 3 months

Text

"Sing to Me?"

Alastor x Reader (QP)

Yawning, you trudged out of the bathroom, drying your hair loosely with a towel. You were warm from your shower and the filling meal you'd had a little while earlier. Alastor was probably the best chef you knew, a fact you were extremely proud of. Even if your preferred form of protein was banned from the hotel premises, Alastor was always able to make do with what he had.

Despite it being late at night, you grabbed your laptop (a very rare, not VoxTech one) to work on some paperwork. You'd promised your boss to get these spreadsheets done, and you weren't one to shirk on your promises. Yawning again, you tuned your old-fashioned radio before settling down with your laptop. The radio had been a gift from Alastor. Many late nights had been spent listening to his broadcasts. They'd always been a comfort, even before you'd signed a contract with him.

Some light jazz filtered through the static, one of your favorite songs. Alastor knew you were listening. Smiling lightly, you started typing away.

The music was occasionally interrupted by a bloodcurdling scream or a sharp whimper. Your smile never left, humming along while Alastor had his fun. Part of you was vaguely aware that the radio show was now being broadcast all throughout Hell, that you didn't even need the radio, but you liked it, so it stayed on.

The spreadsheets were simple enough. With the radio in the background, you were able to focus just enough that the job came naturally. In the back of your mind, you started going over the next day’s schedule.

You'd ended up zoning out while you typed, not even noticing how the radio switched to static and then turned off by itself.

A single knock preceded Alastor's entrance, enough to break you from your thoughts. You were quick to notice the faint blood splatter on the sole of Alastor’s shoes, the only evidence of his previous activities.

“My dear, you know how I abhor those vile machines,” Alastor reprimanded, walking and starting to subconsciously organize your room. A chair was pushed in, a painting adjusted so it was even, the bottom drawer of your dresser lightly closed.

“Yeah, yeah.” You grinned to yourself. “I need it to do my job, Al. Besides, do you have any idea how hard it is to find a piece of electronic equipment that's not created by VoxTech?”

“All the more reason to get rid of it.” Alastor walked over to the window and stared out at it. He was a little lost in thought himself, it would seem.

Typing a line, you said, “I liked your broadcast.”

“I'm glad.”

He was quiet. Something was wrong. Your grin died down, pushing your laptop to the side. Alastor’s smile was still there, but dimmer. Sadder.

“Al? You okay?”

“Nothing to concern yourself with, dearest,” Alastor replied, a slight edge in his voice.

You wanted to push. To get him to talk to you. But you knew it wouldn't be worth it. If anything, he'd just get upset or shut down more.

“You know, sometimes I wonder what would've happened if we'd met while we were alive,” You said nonchalantly. “I mean, obviously that would've been impossible in the first place, considering I wasn't even born when you died, but I just wonder about it.”

“What a ridiculous thing to wonder about!” Alastor laughed a little. “As you said, it would have been impossible. And why think about being alive when we have all of death to enjoy?” His tone lightened a bit. “There is so much entertainment to be had! Life was quite dull, comparably.”

You wondered for a moment, trying to figure out where to lead the conversation. “Where did you live, when you were alive? You already know where I lived when I was alive, it's only fair I know where you lived.”

Alastor’s grin softened a bit, still sad, but with a hint of happiness in there. Nostalgia, if you had to guess. “New Orleans, Louisiana. I lived there with my mother. I had a delightful job as a radio host.”

“You're still a radio host,” you teased playfully. “What was it like, back then?”

“Ah, it was… entertaining.” He didn't say anything more, lost in thought as he leaned on his cane. You were vaguely aware that you were the only person who ever saw him like this. Alastor wore his smile like armor, guarding himself with a nonchalant facade, but very rarely, behind closed doors, the guard would fall, just for a little while.

Just as you were about to open your mouth to ask another question, Alastor spoke, “You seem quite tired, my dear. Maybe it is time we part ways for the evening.”

Pressing your lips together, you knew he was right. You really should be getting to bed, but you were worried about Alastor. You hadn't seen him like this before, so it was impossible to guess what he'd do once he was alone.

“You really should learn to hide your emotions better.” Alastor turned suddenly, chucking to himself. “There is nothing to worry about, darling. I am perfectly fine.”

“Yeah, you say that, but for some reason I don't believe you.” Stifling a yawn, you gave Alastor a look.

“Now, now, don't be like that.” Alastor came and sat on the edge of the bed, using his magic to set the laptop on top of the dresser. “What can I do to convince you to sleep?”

Leaning back, you thought for a moment. When the idea hit you, your face flushed with embarrassment for a moment, but you swallowed the anxiety. He did ask, after all.

“Sing to me?”

Alastor laughed, causing you to glare. “Again with the ridiculous ideas!” When your face fell subconsciously, Alastor hesitated.

When he didn't say anything, you accepted the fact that it was a ridiculous request. Assuming he'd leave the room on his own accord, you used your magic to turn out the lights as you slid under the covers of your bed. You never did get all those spreadsheets done like you'd wanted.

“Parlez-moi d’amour.”

Alastor’s slightly-static-filled voice was quiet. His eyes faintly glowed in the dark and you watched him with wide eyes.

“Redites-moi des choses tendres.”

Smiling softly, you sank into the bed, closing your eyes and allowing Alastor’s comforting voice to wash over you.

“Votre beau discours /

“Mon cœur n'est pas las de l'entendre /

“Pourvu que toujours /

“Vous répétiez ces mots suprêmes /

“Je vous aime.”

((The song))

#hazbin hotel #alastor #alastor the radio demon #alastor x reader #hazbin hotel fanfiction #plz don't come after me for the french #I just copy/pasted off google T-T #rhys-writes #alastor x reader queerplatonic

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zepskies · 6 months

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OMG I KEED A PART 2 TO SAM HAVING A CRUSH ON DEANS GF

Like idk maybe say Sam didn't listen to Dean and tried making a move on reader? Like ofc he wouldn't ever do that *I don't think* but in this hypothetical scenerio it happens

Hey hun!

Oooof, that's hard. You guys really like this angsty love triangle stuff, huh? 😂 I genuinely think Sam would rather saw off his own hand than hurt Dean that way. But this is like, the only thing I could think of on this one. 😅

See this imagine for context: You are Dean's one exception.

Pairing: Dean W. x Reader, one-sided Sam W. x Reader Word Count: 1,100

Imagine: Sam crosses the line.

Goddamn witches.

That's the last coherent thought Sam has, before his mind is no longer completely his to control.

Well, it's still his mind. His body. But the careful door in his mind and in his heart, reinforced with steel and chained shut with titanium, combo-coded, locked and loaded, now has broken hinges.

Thoughts he hasn't allowed himself to think for months are pried open, with a sick kind of enjoyment in pain.

You're his brother's girl. Sam can't help but love you. He wants you. And now, he might be able to have you.

The witch is dead, but the spell she just hit Sam with remains. He's not dead, so that's a plus.

"Are you okay?" you ask him, slightly breathless. You're the closest to where he's sprawled on the ground, so you go to him. You touch his arm, and he can't help but clamp down on your hand. He looks at you with the thinly veiled eyes of a hunter as he smiles. Because your concern reaches the deepest parts of him.

"I'm fine," he says.

But Dean reads the hunger in his brother's eyes. He's subtle in the way he grasps your shoulder and Sam's (noticeably tighter).

"But what happened? How do you feel?" you ask, trying to take stock of what you're all dealing with here.

"I uh...feel fine, actually," Sam says. He rolls his shoulders. His gaze focuses on you. Dean holds him back from getting off the ground.

"Get the book. See if there's a way to fix this," Dean tells you without taking his eyes off Sam.

Sam tilts his head at Dean, the beginning of an angry frown on his lip as you rush away to find the witch's spell book.

"What's the matter, Dean?" Sam asks. He doesn't bother to lower his voice. (He literally doesn't have a filter anymore.) "Afraid of what might happen when she actually has the chance to choose?"

Dean's lips purse as his eyes darken. "This isn't you. And when you wake up from this, you're either gonna hate yourself for even thinkin' what you're thinkin', or you're gonna have one hell of a headache."

Sam stares back incredulously. He scoffs. "What're you gonna do, kill me?" They both know that's not happening.

But that's also when Dean knocks him the hell out.

When Sam wakes, it's to you stuffing tissues in his bloody nose. He groans a bit. He looks at you and still wants. But when he looks down at himself, he's in the bunker, handcuffed to the war room table.

You look worried for him as you go back to your side of the table with the book. Dean is oddly nowhere in sight. Sam thought he'd be watching you (and Sam) like a hawk.

"Dean'll be back in a sec. He's trying to get ahold of Rowena," you supply. "But how're you feeling? What's the spell doing to you exactly?"

Sam rolls the kinks out of his neck and removes the tissues, even though his entire face radiates with pain. His brother once promised to break his nose, and he did just that.

"Basically? I think it took away my inhibitions," he replies. More like threw them in a blender and put his deepest, headiest desires into overdrive.

You frown. "Like a really bad bender, or a truth serum kind of thing? But why would he punch you out for that?"

Your gears are turning rapidly, weighing out all the options. You always were smart. Sam leans forward slowly. Noting your thread of wariness, his face softens. He doesn't want to scare you...

He sighs. "Listen...there's something I've been wanting to tell you for a while now."

He reaches out a hand. You're looking at him in frozen surprise. His curled fingers brush your cheek. He leans in toward your face.

But you flinch and pull away.

"What the hell are you doing?" you ask.

Sam should've known, but it still hurts him. His jaw clenches. The spell takes away his self-preservation, however.

Just as he might've tried with words to finally confess the depths of his heart, the door creaks open.

The sound of Dean's heavy boots approaching makes him flinch. But Sam looks over with an unrepentant stare.

Dean glances at Rowena, nostrils flaring. "Fix him." He gestures at Sam before he joins you on your side of the table, resting a protective hand on your back.

Rowena shoots him a droll look. "Only because you asked so nicely."

"I don't need fixing!" Sam argues, glaring at Dean. His voice echoes on the bunker's walls. "You're just afraid of what happens if she knows the truth!"

Your eyes widen further. You look from Sam, to your boyfriend. Dean's jaw is clenched tight.

"Okay, what the fuck is going on?!" you ask in earnest. Dean meets your gaze for a moment, his face tense. His reluctant eyes communicate to you things you never knew. Things that clog emotion in your throat. Dean turns back to Sam.

"Don't do this, Sammy. It don't end well for you," Dean says.

"Like hell," Sam retorts.

"Okay, sleep now, dear," Rowena says. And with a wave of her hand and a haze of violet, Sam's world once again blackens.

When he next wakes, he's in his own bed. Not restrained. He indeed has a massive headache, and it's hard to breathe through his still broken nose. He groans and turns, and his brother is there.

When the overwhelming guilt sets in, Sam knows he's himself again, with all the careful walls around his heart put back in place. Rowena must've broken the spell when he was unconscious. Dean can see the truth in Sam's eyes.

"There he is," Dean remarks dryly. "Our giant Jekyll and Hyde."

Sam inhales deeply. "Dean..." I'm sorry doesn't quite cut it.

"She knows," Dean says, after a moment. "Obviously."

Sam nods, swallowing past a lump in his throat. He hesitates to ask the next burning question, because part of him knows the answer.

"It doesn't change anything."

Sam's head turns at the sound of your voice. You stand in the doorway, with your arms crossed despite the disheartened look on your face. Your eyes meet his, steady and sad, but firm.

"I know," Sam says, with a small, self-deprecating smile. "I'm sorry...for all this."

"It's not your fault," you reply. Spell or no spell, the way he feels is not his fault.

You step into the bedroom and go to Sam's bedside, laying a hand on Dean's shoulder. That hand smoothes up his neck, and your fingers briefly thread into his hair. Another silent conversation passes between you and Dean, the way only lovers that close can accomplish.

After a beat, Dean nods and gets up out of his chair. He thumbs at your cheek; it's both an answer to your unspoken request and an endearment. Then he pats Sam's shoulder before he leaves you and Sam alone in the room.

Trust. That's what that is. Dean trusts you, and now that the spell has worn off, he trusts Sam again.

Sam meets your gaze. As awful as he feels, he still loves you. He knows you know by the way your gaze meets his.

All he wants to do is touch you.

To apologize, and to touch you.

He hates himself.

You shake your head. "I love you, Sam. As my friend. My brother."

"I know," he nods. "I'm sorry."

"You don't have to be sorry," you reply. "You just have to respect that."

"'Course, I do," Sam nods again. You would've never known, if not for the damn spell.

You surprise him by taking his hand. Yours is soft and warm and kind.

Always kind...

But never truly his to hold.

AN: GAH! The Angst. You could bottle it. 😩

Want to know what that conversation was like between Dean and the reader after she "found out?"

Read It Here: You and Dean talk about Sam's feelings.

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thedensworld · 1 month

Text

Rewind Button | J.Ww

Pairing: Wonwoo x reader

Genre: angst, time travel, bestfriend

Summary: If Wonwoo had a time machine, he would definitely go to crash your wedding.

Warning: mention of arranged marriage, sexual abused, suicidal activity, depression.

TODAY IS MY BIRTHDAY! COMMENT YOUR WISH FOR ME HEHE🙈🙈

***

Wonwoo stirred from his sleep, disoriented and bewildered by his unfamiliar surroundings. He glanced around, his eyes adjusting to the dim light filtering through the curtains of his old apartment studio. Confusion clouded his mind as he realized he should be gearing up for an action scene shoot in just ten minutes, yet here he was, inexplicably back in his past.

Memories flooded back as he recalled the sensation of being in his car, the soft melodies of music playing in the background. But why was he here now?

Before he could fully process his confusion, the shrill ring of his phone shattered the silence, jolting him from his thoughts. With trembling hands, he reached for the device, his heart pounding with trepidation as he saw the caller ID: Mingyu.

It had been nearly five years since they last spoke, and the sudden call from his old friend only added to the surrealness of the moment. Wonwoo's mind raced with questions, his emotions a turbulent whirlwind as he hesitated before answering, unsure of what awaited him on the other end of the line.

"Hello," Wonwoo's hoarse voice greeted Mingyu, his mind still reeling from the surreal experience of being transported back in time.

A rush of urgency flooded through the phone line, Mingyu's voice filled with frantic energy. "Hyung! Where are you?! The ceremony will start in 2 hours!"

Wonwoo blinked in disbelief as memories of this very conversation, this same heated exchange with Mingyu, flooded his mind. It was a moment from the past, long gone, yet here he was, reliving it once again. Why was he experiencing this déjà vu?

"Hold on, Mingyu," Wonwoo managed to utter, struggling to process the situation unfolding before him.

"Hyung! Are you listening to me?" Mingyu's voice cut through Wonwoo's thoughts, pulling him back to the present moment.

"I'll be there," Wonwoo murmured softly before ending the call, his mind swirling with confusion and disbelief. As he hung up, a sense of unease settled over him, leaving him grappling with the inexplicable phenomenon that had just occurred.

As Wonwoo's mind raced, replaying the moments leading up to his unexpected reunion with you, his heart pounded with a mixture of apprehension and longing. He wasn't accustomed to making requests or wishing for things, always content to be the grateful, considerate person others admired. But tonight, as he lay in bed, his silent plea had been answered, thrusting him into a whirlwind of emotions.

Meeting you again after five long years, on the set of his latest film where you were cast as a cameo, had ignited a torrent of memories and regrets within him. The scene played out in his mind like a haunting film, your presence stirring feelings he had buried deep within himself.

As you both discussed the upcoming scene, the unspoken tension between you hung heavy in the air, overshadowing the easy camaraderie you once shared. Wonwoo couldn't help but notice the bruises hidden beneath your hair and sleeves, a stark contrast to the vibrant spirit he remembered from your past encounters.

When he finally mustered the courage to approach you in private, your first question pierced through his defenses like a dagger to the heart. "Why didn't you come to my wedding?" you asked, your voice calm but laden with disappointment.

Wonwoo was rendered speechless, his throat constricting with guilt and regret. He had never prepared himself for this moment, never anticipated facing you again under such circumstances.

"I read your letter, and I was so disappointed you didn't come," you continued, mentioning the drunken confession he had penned before your wedding day, a stupid letter.

"Mingyu too, he felt the same about our friendship," you added, invoking the name of their mutual friend.

Unable to meet your gaze, Wonwoo could only mutter a feeble apology, his fingers fidgeting nervously.

But when you rolled up your sleeves, revealing the bruises marring your skin, his heart shattered into a million pieces. He longed to reach out, to offer comfort and solace, but fear held him back, afraid that even the slightest touch would break you further.

"Did Mingyu know about this?" Wonwoo finally managed to ask, his voice barely above a whisper.

You nodded solemnly, confirming his worst fears. "But he couldn't do anything," you confessed, your words heavy with resignation.

Silence enveloped them both as Wonwoo struggled to process the weight of your words, the guilt and helplessness threatening to suffocate him.

"I was waiting for you," you whispered, the memory of your wedding day haunting your expression. "Since you promised."

Your laughter, tinged with bitterness, echoed in the cramped confines of the van, and Wonwoo felt his heart shatter all over again. "But you never came."

Wonwoo, dressed in his usual attire, rushed to the venue of your wedding ceremony, his mind spinning with confusion and urgency. Was this all just a dream, or had he truly been thrown back in time as he had desperately wished for earlier?

Mingyu's surprise was evident as he greeted Wonwoo, his eyes scanning his friend's unconventional choice of outfit – a black hoodie and baggy faded denim pants. Wonwoo's appearance, fresh only from a quick face wash, stood in stark contrast to the formal attire expected for such an occasion.

"Why are you dressed like this? Today is a special day!" Mingyu exclaimed, his concern evident in his voice as he pulled Wonwoo aside, shielding him from prying eyes.

Wonwoo blinked rapidly, unsure of how to explain his sudden appearance and disheveled state. If he were to tell Mingyu the truth – that he had traveled from the future to prevent you from suffering in an abusive marriage – he knew his friend would dismiss it as absurd.

"I need to meet Y/n," Wonwoo replied impatiently, his sense of urgency overriding any concern for social norms or propriety.

Mingyu furrowed his brows, his hand resting reassuringly on Wonwoo's shoulder. "We talked about this, man. You said you'd give up on her."

Wonwoo's heart clenched at the memory of his previous conversation with Mingyu, where he had resigned himself to letting you go. "Yeah, I know," he admitted, his voice tinged with regret.

"But I changed my mind. I can't let her go," Wonwoo confessed, his determination shining through despite the obstacles ahead.

Mingyu sighed, realizing the gravity of Wonwoo's intentions. "Isn't it too late? You know her husband is someone with power," he cautioned, his concern for both Wonwoo and you evident in his words.

"I promised her that I'd come today, help her cancel the wedding," Wonwoo explained earnestly, his gaze unwavering as he met Mingyu's widened eyes.

"No way! You know what would happen to both of you," Mingyu protested vehemently, his concern for their reputations and public image overriding any sense of recklessness.

Wonwoo took a deep breath, steeling himself before dropping a bombshell on Kim Mingyu. "She's pregnant with mine," he stated firmly, the weight of his words hanging heavily in the air.

Mingyu gasped in disbelief, his eyes widening in shock. "What?!" he exclaimed, unable to comprehend the gravity of Wonwoo's revelation.

Wonwoo nodded, his expression solemn as he tried to convey the truth of his words to Mingyu. "I'll explain everything later, but right now, I need to meet her," he insisted, his voice tinged with urgency and determination.

As the weight of Wonwoo's revelation sank in, Mingyu could only nod in reluctant understanding, realizing that his friend's resolve was unshakeable. Together, they stood on the precipice of a decision that could change the course of your lives forever.

"When he found out i was pregnant with other man, he practically almost murdering me everyday. He made sure that i was suffering and i ended up losing the baby. Tears streamed down your cheeks as you poured out the painful truth, revealing for the first time to Wonwoo that you had been carrying his child. The weight of your words hung heavy in the air, each syllable laden with the agony of your suffering.

Wonwoo held you tightly in his embrace, his heart breaking as he realized the extent of your torment. Guilt gnawed at him relentlessly, a relentless onslaught of remorse for his past actions. He closed his eyes, unable to bear the weight of his cowardice – the cowardice that had cost him your love and the life of his own child.

In that moment, he saw himself for what he truly was: a coward who had let fear dictate his every move. He had been too afraid to pursue a relationship with you, convinced that you were too perfect, too good for someone like him. And in his cowardice, he had stood by while you suffered unimaginable horrors at the hands of your husband.

As you spoke of the threats and abuse you endured, Wonwoo's heart shattered into a million pieces. The thought of you enduring such torment while he remained silent filled him with a profound sense of shame and regret.

"I'm so sorry," he whispered, his voice choked with emotion. "I should have protected you. I should have been there for you."

But your confession only deepened his anguish, as you revealed the depths of your despair. "But I'm so tired," you admitted, your voice trembling with exhaustion. "Every day feels like hell, and I just want to die."

Wonwoo's heart clenched at your words, the pain in your voice echoing the turmoil in his soul. He vowed in that moment to do whatever it took to save you, to break free from the shackles of his own cowardice and finally stand by your side. For he knew now, more than ever, that he could not bear to lose you again.

A week later, news of your attempted suicide rocked Wonwoo to his core. As he stood in the hospital corridor, waiting anxiously for any update on your condition, the weight of his guilt threatened to crush him. The letter found at the scene revealed the depths of your suffering, documenting the abuse you endured at the hands of your husband.

Finally, after five long years, Wonwoo came face to face with Mingyu in the hospital aisle. Mingyu's eyes held a silent accusation, and Wonwoo couldn't bring himself to meet his friend's gaze. He bowed his head in shame, unable to deny the wrongs he had committed.

But to Wonwoo's surprise, Mingyu's arms enveloped him in a tight embrace, his own tears mingling with Wonwoo's. "Hyung... She'll be alright, right?" Mingyu choked out between sobs, his voice thick with worry and fear.

Wonwoo wished desperately that he could offer Mingyu reassurance, to tell him that you would indeed be alright. But the truth weighed heavily on his conscience, threatening to suffocate him. He longed to confess that everything that had transpired was just a dream, that you were safe and alive, and that you belonged to him. But his fear held him back, sealing his lips shut once again.

As the situation began to calm, Mingyu turned to Wonwoo, his eyes filled with a mixture of sadness and frustration. "Did she tell you?" he asked, his voice tinged with resignation.

Wonwoo nodded silently, his heart heavy with remorse.

Mingyu sighed, his gaze drifting towards the room where you were being tended to by medical staff. "I just hope that asshole didn't use his money to free himself," he growled in anger, his fists clenched in frustration at the thought of your abusive husband escaping justice.

"For these five years, she's suffered a lot," Mingyu continued, his voice tinged with sorrow. "I want to help her, but there's nothing I can do besides offering emotional support."

He paused, his expression pained as he revealed the truth behind your intentions to reconnect with Wonwoo. "She told me that she was going to meet you for a shoot. She actually just wanted to be friends again. There was no intention of telling you the whole situation. But I forced her."

Mingyu's words hung heavy in the air, a stark reminder of the consequences of Wonwoo's actions and the pain he had caused. As he listened to his friend's words, Wonwoo felt a surge of remorse wash over him, knowing that he had hurt not only you but also those who cared for you deeply.

Mingyu accompanied Wonwoo as they approached your room, his hand gesturing for Wonwoo to enter and have a conversation with you. Wonwoo, visibly nervous, stepped into the room, scanning the space until his eyes fell upon you sitting on the couch. However, instead of your usual charm and charisma, he noticed a subdued air about you. Nevertheless, your face lit up when you saw him, and you rose from your seat.

As Wonwoo rushed towards you, pulling you into his embrace, you felt a mix of surprise and comfort flood through you. "Let's take you out of here," he whispered urgently, pulling back slightly to meet your gaze.

Your eyes widened, a hint of fear flickering across them. "But I can't," you protested, your voice trembling. "He's not just a random person, Wonwoo! He would sue us."

Wonwoo shook his head, determination etched into his features. "We confront him," he insisted, his voice firm yet reassuring. "And tell him the truth." His words carried a sense of resolve, offering you a glimmer of hope in the midst of uncertainty.

Tears welled up in your eyes, reflecting the turmoil within you. "But what about our careers?" you choked out, your voice thick with emotion. "We're going to be doomed after this... Think about yourself, Wonwoo!" You pleaded, trying to shake him out of his determination.

Wonwoo held your shoulders firmly, his gaze unwavering. "In another universe, I was selfish," he confessed, his voice tinged with regret. "But I ended up losing our friendship, losing Mingyu. I ended up losing you..." His words hung heavy in the air, carrying the weight of past mistakes and missed opportunities.

Confusion furrowed your brow as you searched his eyes for understanding. "What are you talking about?" you asked, your voice trembling with uncertainty.

Wonwoo's grip on your arm tightened, his resolve unyielding. "We don't have much time," he urged, his voice urgent. "Let's go to the groom."

Quickly, Wonwoo waited for you to change into comfortable clothes, both of you donning masks and hats to conceal your identities. With Mingyu's help, you found the groom, who was engrossed in conversation with guests. Mingyu motioned for both Wonwoo and you to retreat to a private area before confronting him.

The groom's surprise was evident as he laid eyes on you standing outside your room without your bridal gown. Before he could react, Mingyu and Wonwoo restrained him. Wonwoo realized the groom had no control over himself; he wasn't your husband yet.

"Let's stop the wedding," Wonwoo declared, his voice firm as he initiated the discussion. The furrowed expression on the groom's face spoke volumes about his response.

But before he could utter a word, Wonwoo dropped the bombshell. "She's pregnant with my child. We've been having an affair even before you entered the picture." The groom's composure shattered, his anger palpable.

"What does it mean, Y/n? We discussed this already."

As the groom moved towards you, Wonwoo and Mingyu intervened, shielding you from harm. Wonwoo signaled for Mingyu to escort you to his car while he dealt with the groom.

With an imposing presence, Wonwoo approached the groom, his calm demeanor a stark contrast to the groom's agitation. "Y/n will pass away five years from now," Wonwoo revealed, his words laced with a solemn warning. "And you'll be behind bars for abusing and murdering her. I know your violent tendencies with women, so don't come near us unless you want the media to know."

Enraged, the groom grabbed Wonwoo's clothes, but Wonwoo effortlessly freed himself, straightening his attire. "I'm from the future," he declared, his voice steady. "We could stand here all day discussing your future, but let's prevent it by canceling this wedding."

Dear Yoon Y/n,

It's your friend, Jeon Wonwoo. I want to start by apologizing for my absence after that night. I couldn't bring myself to face you because everything changed between us. I no longer saw you as just a friend.

To be honest, it's been a long time since I've seen you that way. You've become more than a friend to me; you're a woman. I confided my feelings for you to Mingyu, and when I admitted I liked you, he punched me. Yet, he confessed he saw it coming.

For a fleeting moment after that night in your apartment, I was happy. I knew we were both intoxicated, but I didn't regret a thing. Yet, I couldn't shake the uncertainty of whether you felt the same way about me. Did you feel the same love as I did for you?

Today, I received your wedding invitation, and I couldn't muster the courage to confront you in person about how much I love you. Mingyu mentioned it was an arranged marriage, which gave me a sliver of hope that you might not love him. But at the end of the day, he'll be the one who owns you, right?

I want to be him. I want to be him so badly. If I were to attend your wedding and ask for your love, would you want to run away with me?

If your answer is yes, then I promise to be there.

With all my love,

Wonwoo

Wonwoo sat beside Mingyu, the weight of grief heavy in the air after attending your funeral. Mingyu handed him a book, your diary, a crucial piece of evidence detailing the abuse you suffered at the hands of your husband. Wonwoo's fingers traced over the cover, feeling the weight of your words within.

As he flipped through the pages, his heart clenched at the entry describing the morning of your wedding day, when you discovered your pregnancy. "She must have been waiting for me," Wonwoo thought, his throat tight with emotion.

Each word in your diary painted a vivid picture of your pain and suffering. Wonwoo read with tears streaming down his cheeks, feeling every pang in his chest as he absorbed the honesty and rawness of your emotions.

The diary was a testament to the strength you had to endure such torment, and Wonwoo couldn't help but feel overwhelmed by a mixture of sadness, anger, and admiration for you. It was a journey through your deepest struggles, and Wonwoo vowed silently to ensure that justice would be served for you, no matter the cost.

"Gyungmo raped me that night. He wanted to kill my baby." Wonwoo closed the book, barely able to continue it.

Anger, guilt, and regret crashed over Wonwoo like a relentless tsunami. Jung Gyungmo, the source of your suffering, must pay for his atrocities, Wonwoo thought, his fists clenched with fury.

"We hadn't spoken for months after her wedding," Wonwoo recounted to Mingyu, his voice heavy with remorse. "But she called me in the dead of night, desperate for help. Her husband was nowhere to be found when I arrived. She was barely holding on, her body weak, blood staining her legs."

Mingyu turned to face Wonwoo, his expression mirroring the sorrow etched in his friend's features. "She was five months pregnant, enduring unimaginable stress and abuse," Mingyu explained, his voice cracking with emotion. "And she lost your... your baby."

Wonwoo's heart shattered into a million pieces as the weight of your pain crashed down upon him. The realization that he could have done more, should have been there for you, gnawed at his soul like a relentless beast. The guilt and anguish threatened to consume him whole as he grappled with the cruel reality of your suffering.

Mingyu's voice trembled as he struggled to continue speaking, the weight of your absence crushing his heart freshly from your recent funeral. Tears streamed down his cheeks uncontrollably, his grief pouring out in waves. Despite his own pain, he reached out to Wonwoo, his arms wrapping around his best friend in a tight embrace, seeking solace in their shared sorrow.

"It's not your fault," Mingyu whispered, trying to offer some comfort amidst the overwhelming anguish.

But Wonwoo's voice quivered with guilt as he choked out his words, his tears mingling with Mingyu's. "This is my fault!"

Mingyu shook his head vigorously, refusing to let Wonwoo bear the burden alone. "No, hyung," he insisted, his own anguish evident in his voice.

"If only I had intervened at her wedding, if only I had stopped everything, she would still be with us! She wouldn't—" Wonwoo's words dissolved into sobs, his pain too raw to articulate.

Mingyu nodded in solemn agreement, his own grief consuming him. "Me too, hyung," he confessed, his voice thick with sorrow.

"If only I could turn back time, I would stop the wedding in a heartbeat."

If only...

The words hung heavy in the air, a bitter reminder of the irreversible tragedy that had befallen them all.

191 notes · View notes

tangylemonade · 3 months

Text

Last Night

Heeseung x afab reader

MINORS DO NOT INTERACT •

SMUT (w/cursing)

About 2.3k

I was having Heeseung hard hours and wrote this last night. I barely edited it so let me know if you find any spelling mistakes 😽.

Let me know what you think and please COMMENT and REBLOG if you enjoyed.

Thank you for reading 😊

Don’t fuck the talent.

Seems simple enough, right?

Right.

So could someone kindly explain how and why you were currently under Heeseung at 3 in the mornings making the bed shake to a sinful tune.

Waking up the morning after while ‘shit shit shit’ played on repeat in your head as you looked over at the slender yet muscular frame that was cuddled up against you, arm draped over your waist.

A glance at his watch revealed it was the afternoon and you let out a groan.

The sun filtered and flickered through the curtains as the wind from the open window sent them aflutter, your wind chimes pleasantly singing.

The man stirred next to you, slowly opening his eyes, squinting as the sunlight beamed down on his unfairly handsome face. The rays felt comforting and warm on your skin despite the cool air that was blowing through. Tricky situation aside, you found yourself suddenly smiling at how satisfied and well rested you felt this lovely morning.

Heeseung on the other hand, who was still going through the initial shock, sat up quickly and looked down at you who didn’t even bother to move from your relaxed posture in bed.

No benefit in panicking now you thought, not after the way he licked your pussy and sucked you clit until you shook last night.

You could almost see recounts of the night racing through his doe eyes.

He looked at you again, this time staring as a blush slowly crept into his face.

You raised an eyebrow confused.

You hadn’t realized that the blanket had been removed in his panicked scramble.

But he did.

He noticed everything from how the warm sun glistened on your glowy skin to how the light reflecting from the wind chimes you had hung on your curtain rod danced along the curves and lines of your body, furter enticing the beauty that had him mindless.

“Uhh..you.” He stuttered, his eyes flickering across your body, finally drawing your attention to the reason for his sudden shyness.

“Oh..” you pulled the blanket around your chest and sat up.

You weren’t the only one still in your birthday suit.

Now sitting up your eyes couldn’t help but wander along his body.

Quickly noticing your line of vision, Heeseung pulled the blanket around his waist.

Your face felt warm despite the fact that just hours ago your mouth had kissed and licked out all of the curses he knew in English and Korean.

As thoughts of last night began to settle back in the panic you thought you’d curbed rejoined the party setting off your dreadful habit of word vomiting.

“Listen.” You said breaking the silence. “Heesung, I'm sorry. This really is my fault. I should’ve been more responsible. Especially since I’m…”

Heeseung wanted to listen but he just couldn’t focus. Not when the way your pretty lips moved sent more replays of what else you had done with them flashing through his mind.

Agonizingly his cock began to throb despite his internal plees with himself to calm down.

But he couldn’t. Not when he experienced the way your beautiful mouth felt wrapped around him just hours ago. The way your lush body fit in his hands as he felt you the way he’d always wanted to. Not when he finally got to kiss your lips and they tasted exactly as he knew they would. Sweet and supple.

Now all he could focus on was how much he wanted to kiss you again.

“Heeseung?”

The beautiful sound of your voice calling his name brought him back to the present. He looked up at you only to find you looking down. Following your eyes he saw the tent in the blanket he’d loosely pulled around himself.

“You weren’t listened to a thing I said were you?” You asked, face burning once again.

You stood and wrapped the sheet around you, tucking it into itself so it would stay up.

Heeseung didn’t even bother to cover his erection as he stood and wrapped the towel he’d tossed on the floor last night around his waist, tucking it the same as you.

The regret and shame of your previous actions no longer pulled on him. Not even one little bit. And how could they when you were still so beautiful in front of him and he knew he wouldn’t blink before he did it all again.

“I always imagined what it would be like to have you under me.” Heeseung suddenly proclaimed.

You backed up as he stepped closer to you, blinking in shock at his sudden statement.

He continued to walk closer until your back was against the wall and he was so close to you that his erection brushed against your thigh.

“Heeseung th-this is serious.” You said, squeezing your legs together. You suddenly felt desire pooling hot in your core. “We-we could get in trouble. We shouldn’t…”

“Why?” He said, suddenly cutting you off. “Why when we clearly both have been wanting this”

“Heeseung…“

“It was dumb to think I could stop craving you after one taste.”

“That was the plan Heeseung. One night. We get it out of our systems and move on.”

The heat from his body felt so good in the cold winter morning air so you could barely think straight.

“Well that was the dumbest fucking idea Y/N because right now…I- I want you more then ever.”

His strong fingers wrapped around your hand before traveling up your arms leaving goosebumps in their wake.

Cupping your face with gentle hands, he looked into your eyes with his big round brown ones.

Those eyes you couldn’t resist and couldn’t deny.

You wanted to run, scream, and kiss him all at once. You swallowed and pitifully searched his eyes for any sign to end this but all you saw was the same look that got you in the mess in the first place.

“That’s why I said I’m sorry.” You choked out “I was wrong to think we should’ve indulged in any of this. I was drunk- I…”

“You and I both know you weren’t darling.” He said cutting you off once again. Heeseung didn’t see the point in lying just to deny your obvious infatuation with each other. Neither of you were stupid.

You looked away from him, afraid to cry or say anything else.

Heeseung softly caught your chin between his index finger and thumb, bringing your eyes back to his.

Looking into your shaking pupils he knew right away just how scared you were.

Scared to pursue something you weren’t certain of. Something that could end so badly for both of you.

But he also knew that he was right. You couldn’t have been more sober last night.

You had wanted him just as much as he needed you.

You still do.

“Fuck!” you said under you breath. It was too late to turn back now.

But even if you could, would you?

You grabbed his face and pulled him towards you. His mouth was so very warm against yours as he invited you in. Your hands raked through his hair and he undid the tuck of the sheet from around your body.

Heeseung pulled you closer to him as the wrinkled white linen pooled around your ankles, his hands once again finding purchase against the smoothness of your body.

Your nipples were hard against his chest as he pressed you between him and the wall, your back arching to escape the cold.

His towel that loosed on the commotion joined the white bundle of fabric at your ankles and his erection, now freed, pressed against your stomach tantalizingly.

You reached down instinctively and began to stroke his silky member, pre cum already seeping from the tip. He groaned into your mouth and you hummed in satisfaction at the way everything felt perfect with him.

His hands unable to pick one thing to focus went up and down as he squeezed your thighs and hips then your waist and boobs.

All of you.

Heeseung wanted to have all of you.

Ever since the first day you showed up and were introduced as the choreographer for their most recent song. Your radiant smile left his heart pounding and his palms sweaty. Focusing on the moves you showed became increasingly more challenging when he noticed how sensually your body moved with every dance.

And good god you smelled heavenly.

He cursed himself for acting like a creep but one day he caught you watching him in the mirror and his thoughts began to wander beyond his control.

What if?… no. It wasn’t possible. But…what if you thought about him too.

As impossible as it seemed his suspicions were undeniably confirmed when he saw the lust filled gaze in your eyes yesterday while celebrating the songs first win with the members and staff.

You excused yourself and he talked himself into following you a little bit after, catching you in the parking garage on the way to your car.

“Hi?” You said, feigning confusion as if you hadn’t just been telepathically begging him to ravish you..

But you knew why he came. It was the same reason why you were leaving.

You didn’t want to do anything stupid but the opportunity was too tempting to let go.

You’d talked with Heeseung many times during work and each time you spent every opportunity flirting while it often felt like he was trying to undress you with his eyes.

It was too much tonight. You felt like you had to leave or you might fuck him right there in front of everyone. His eyes that twinkled into yours was the final straw.

Your mind screamed at you that this was off limits but your body wouldn’t comply.

You didn’t stop him from giving you a ride home and you didn’t stop him from pressing you up against the inside of your house door as you tore each other's clothes off.

And right now you didn’t stop Heeseung from doing it all again as he pressed you up against the wall after you slid a condom onto his aching cock.

You didn’t stop him even a little bit as he slid into you, catching you as your knees buckled a bit from the instant pleasure.

The sound of you moaning his name had him gritting his teeth with increasing desire.

Your lips were swollen and hot with Heesungs kisses.

His sucks and nibbles at your collarbone would surely leave marks but you didn’t care in the least bit.

His hips rolling into you at a breathstoping rhythm was all you could process.

You held onto his back, your nails digging into him as the heat began to deepen in your core.

Heeseung’s cock twitched inside of you, your walls squeezing and milking him in the most delicious way.

Moans fell from his kissed pink lips as your pussy swallowed him and left him feeling dizzy.

Heeseung lifted your thigh against his hip, skillfully rolling into you. It only took a bit longer before his orgasm rippled through him, his heat filling the condom. And it wasn’t long after him that you followed, the fluttering of your pussy delectably squeezing his pleasure into overstimulation.

You twitched in his arms as he did a few more lazy strokes before pulling out and leaving you feeling strangely empty without the stretch of him.

You stayed leaning against Heeseung as he held you up against the wall. He peppered little kisses on your neck and shoulder as you both caught your breath enough to head to the bathroom.

“Now.” he said softly, lifting you up and placing a kiss on your nose. “Let’s go shower and eat breakfast.”

The simply nodded still too drunk off of his dick to do anything else.

He gingerly caressed your skin as he helped you wash (despite you being completely capable of the task yourself) leaving you feeling absolutely dreamy. You couldn’t resist making out in the shower so you didn’t even try but sadly it was cut short by the ring of Heeseung’s phone reminding you two to stop screwing around.

“You're lucky the live isn’t until 6.” Jake said to Heeseung over the phone.

You sat quietly as you chewed on a bit of toast and jam Heeseung had so kindly made while you prepared the eggs.

You started to quietly laugh at the way Jake was scolding Heeseung but that ended quickly when you heard your name being mentioned.

“I know your with Y/N because you guys had been eye fucking all last night so don’t even try to deny it.”

Heesung laughed at your wide open eyes of shock and you could practically hear Jake rolling his eyes.

“Whatever.” Jake said. “You need to be at the shop in like 30 minutes so don’t be late or I tell everybody exactly why you are.”

Heesung hung up on Jake without a word.

“Should I give you a ride?” You asked.

Heeseung nodded in agreement before going back to eating his breakfast in no rush.

You grabbed a jacket from your closet before putting your keys in your bag and heading for the door.

Heeseung, who was already ready and leaning against the door waiting for you, grabbed you by the waist and pulled you against him. You couldn’t help the giggle that escaped you.

He leaned in, carefully placing a soft kiss on your smiling lips.

“Yup,” Heeseung said after he pulled away from the kiss.

You tilted your head and raised your eyebrows inquisitively. “What?”

“You taste too fucking good to quit.”

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malarign · 9 months

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situationship

(when you’re not dating yet)

contains: bf!hyungline x fem!reader | genre: fluff | tw! none i think? lmk | wc: 0,7k

reblogs are highly appreciated!!!

author’s note: i’m so delulu bc of this, it’s not funny anymore

you’ll find maknae line version here!

Lee Heeseung | 이희승

very confident

Heeseung is the type of guy who knows what he wants. And what he currently wants is to make sure you and everybody around you know how much he is interested in you. Honestly, to say he’s interested in you is an understatement since all he can think of is you. Every single thought that comes to his mind goes back to you.

Everything just comes so naturally like playing with your hair whenever you’re telling him about your day or preferably when you’re telling him about your day and playing with HIS hair, all while he lays on your lap comfortably.

Obscene flirting with you around his friends is also part of the pack. Heeseung just can’t help eyeing you up and down and complimenting your look. But not just any compliment will do. His praises are always very descriptive, letting you know his exact thoughts, just like he has no filter (he doesn’t).

Park Jongseong | 박종성

confident but a little oblivious

Jay didn’t even realize something started to happen between you two. It took him two conversations with his friends and three compliments from you to finally see not only it’s him who’s interested but that the feeling is mutual. His confidence went up, but still, he did not let anybody know how it made him feel, and let me tell you he got butterflies just from thinking about it.

What is so attractive to him about you is how ambitious you are, and how much knowledge you possess. Your versatility in interests makes you unique, that’s why he started researching them, just to impress you in a deep conversation or even just playful chitchat.

But what truly makes your situationship obvious to everybody around you is how truly clingy you get whenever you are close. Hand-holding and even hugging from behind is not enough, so he started inviting you to sit on his lap (which you gladly accepted), making it your new default seat each time you’re spending together.

Sim Jaeyun | 심재윤

pretty confident

Jake is usually a menace just to society but now that he has you in his eye he doesn’t even let you forget and miss him for a second. At first, you could think it’s an exaggeration, but let’s be for real, when Jake falls for somebody he devotes himself to that person, leaving no room for doubt of his feelings.

Some could think it’s pretty annoying the way he called you and send you voice memos almost every second, updating you on each hour of his day. What could possibly cross the line was how he almost every day called you in the middle of the night. He wasn’t trying to cover the fact he missed you and wanted to listen to your voice, making it your new favorite part of the day, which you waited for every day.

What actually made a blush creep to your cheeks was how many nicknames he used. Of course, his favorite ones were either basic “baby” or a little bit more jokingly said “wifey”(was it though?). None of them made you uncomfortable, especially after you started to use just as cliche and cheesy nicknames on him.

Park Sunghoon | 박성훈

very shy

Now, when it comes to Sunghoon he wishes he could be more confident but as soon as he sees you he can’t help a blush that paints his cheeks and tip of ears. He’s the definition of admiring from afar, watching you with a fond smile talking to your friends, and enjoying games you play.

That doesn’t mean he does it all the time. Just as much as he’s a shy person he’s also a jealous one. When he likes somebody he wants them just for him, and him only. That’s why when he feels a little bit neglected he gently taps your shoulder earning not only your whole attention but also your beautiful and charming smile, that only he is worthy of seeing.

But when you are completely alone or just without any of your friends he absentmindedly starts to play with your fingers while either watching a movie or just chitchatting in a cafe. He does it ever so gently and delicately as if your fingers were just as fragile as glass. The way his fingers brush against yours makes your stomach do flips and fill with butterflies.

thank you for reading! back to the masterlist

taglist: (open) @nicholasluvbot, @en-chantedtomeetyou, @skzenhalove, @nfrgirl, @kpoprhia, @redm4ri, @jaelaxies

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boba-beom · 4 months

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˚₊· ͟͟͞͞➳❥ fall for you | CHOI SOOBIN

p: soobin x gn!reader .. g: oneshot; fluff, suggestive(barely), f2l .. w: indicating something suggestive at the end, lower case intended, confessions, just tooth rotting fluff and a kiss <3 .. wc: 1.1k .. a/n: he’s so first love material it hurts. it’s been a while since I wrote some cute ass fluff :> wanted to try something a little different ^^’ also listen to old love by yuji, putri dahlia

sometimes you cursed the universe for constantly bringing you people who were just incompatible with you.

your love life seemed to have this recurring theme, almost like a stopwatch counting down the days until things eventually don't work out for you. but it’s not like you knew that was going to happen.

plenty of trial and errors. plenty of disheartened occasions. and plenty of nights ranting to your course mate and closest friend, choi soobin. because it was only him who understood you to the point there was no longer a filter between you, no secrets kept from one another, and him being the first resort as your support system.

soobin always knew the right words to say to keep your mind at ease. always reminding you to protect your peace and that love will always find its way.

and he was right.

it’s been months since your last talking stage, and you were no longer affected by the fact it didn’t work out, and it’s the best you’ve felt for the longest time. unbothered and channeling your inner peace. because you’re not here to chase, no. you were a strong believer that the universe works in mysterious ways, and thanks to soobin, he is a constant reminder of what’s for you, is meant for you.

what started as a platonic friendship, turned into admiration for one another. using each other as support throughout your day to day lives; for inspiration to be a better person each day.

there was a time where a simple brush of the shoulders didn’t faze you, but now you get butterflies just from laying your gaze on his gentle sleeping figure on your couch.

was it the way his hair falls perfectly just above his long eyelashes that were almost doll-like? or the way his nose slopes to a soft curve, luring your eyes to his cupid's bow and uniquely-shaped lips that curved upwards in the corners? his side profile was unapologetically stunning. almost surreal that this person is in your life.

was he always this beautiful?

you think to yourself, or so you thought until you hear a low chuckle coming from him.

“what?” you chuckle along, he was too contagious to not do the same.

“you think I’m beautiful?” he looks at you, sleepy eyes slowly adjusting to the sun rays decorating the room.

“always.”

he laughs again in endearment, reaching out a welcoming arm and motioning you to sit beside him before enveloping around your shoulders. his body radiates warmth, but also security. his larger frame was enough to make you feel protected in his arms, in ways your previous partners never did.

you sit in comfort with him looking down at you. his eyes almost reflect what you think the galaxy would look like at first hand, twinkling with nothing but purpose.

“and you.. you are the most prettiest I’ve laid my eyes on.”

his deep voice almost rumbled against your chest, cheeks warming up from the affection he’s giving you. and perhaps all this time while you were looking elsewhere, the person for you has just been here the entire time.

“soobin, I haven’t been completely honest with you…” your voice trails, but you remain steady eye contact.

his face tilts to the side. his lips presses into a thin line until his two dimples are appearing in front of you. damn those dimples.

your heart races in your chest and you’re chewing the inside of your cheek, nervous to risk something so special, something you’re entirely grateful for. but it’s now or never, right?

what’s meant for you, will be for you.

“it’s okay, you can tell me.” he reassures you with the expanse of his hand caressing your shoulder.

with a deep and steady breath you start, “I like you soobin. more than a course mate who looks out for me. more than a platonic friend. more than anyone I’ve ever liked before. and I trust you wholeheartedly. I like you so much it scares me but I know you wouldn’t hurt me. god, my feelings have grown immensely and I just hope you accept me as I am.”

he was silent. eyes still sparkling, but silent.

a thousand thoughts fly through your mind, and nothing but the drum of your heartbeat and the ticking of the clock flooding in your ears. shit, I’ve messed up—

the sound of your name falls past his lips, regaining your attention.

"I like you too. I always did, and always will. I can't stop thinking about you ever since we met." he looks away momentarily and the same airy chuckle returns, "I just wanted to have you in my life, even if that meant comforting you after an unsuccessful date or talking stage. even if that meant I would get a little hurt inside."

his hand reaches up to cup your cheek, warmth transferring from your skin to his and he looks at you with so much appreciation. your chest heaves a little faster when you watch his eyes flicker down to your lips and back up to meet your eyes again.

"I love you," bringing both your faces closer together. you can feel his little breathes through his lips before asking, "can I kiss you?"

with no further words you hum out a 'mhm' and close the minuscule gap, letting your lips collide gently. they molded perfectly against each other, his pillowy bottom lip against yours felt heavenly. you cup soobin's cheek a little further back that your fingertips are lost in his hair behind his blushed ears. both of your chest heave against each other, as you deepen the kiss, tilting your head to kiss him as if he was to disappear the next day. just incase you thought this was too good to be true. just in case the universe would take him away from you.

soobin's thumb caresses your cheek before he gently holds your chin with his thumb and forefinger, disconnecting the kiss.

"hey, hey, I'm not going anywhere. okay?" his hand moves effortlessly behind the back of your head, luring it forward for him to place a kiss on your forehead. "I'm yours if you want me to be."

"of course I want you to be. I'm yours and you're mine." you watch his lips curve upwards, again decorated beautifully with his dimples.

he wraps his arms around you, his face snuggling in the dip of your neck as your hands roam over his broad shoulders. he lays gentle kisses against your skin, sighing in relief that he can finally do this, and not just in his dreams. his kisses trail up until he's by your ear, spoiling you at your sweet spot, evident from your soft sighs, and he whispers something in a lower octave.

"let me show you how much I love you."

taglist: @choiwrld @yjusei @feyregels @ahnneyong @prodsh00ky @wccycc @lizdevorak @fairybin @laylasbunbunny @acaiasahi @ttyunz @cha0thicpisces @fairybinie @ja4hyvn @yunkiwii @aprilisque @https-yeonjun @lovejoshua @bb-eilish @iggynor4 @amethysts-1620 @gorechoi-backup @ericyjun @luvsoobs @yeonyeonyeonjun @junniieesbby @kyrkitten @day6andetcetera @dainsleif-when-playable @txt-yaomi @soobinsman (send me an ask to be part of the taglist)

#k-labels #kflixnet #soobin fluff #soobin x gn reader #soobin x reader #soobin imagines #soobin scenarios #soobin soft hours #txt fluff #txt imagines #txt scenarios #txt soft hours #txt x gn reader #txt x reader #choi soobin

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xoxo-sarah · 3 months

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Let Me Show You

↝a/n: early Valentine's fic.

↝pairing: Robin Buckley x fem!reader

↝warning: slightly suggestive, Valentine's Day, kissing, lonely Steve, frustrated reader, not proofread

|| Disclaimer: I do not own Robin Buckley, or any character from Stranger Things. I only own y/n and any characters I create with my own brain. ||

↝⎙ 2.1.24

As the warm sunlight filtered through the curtains, you stirred from your slumber, feeling the soft warmth of Robin's body beside you. It was Valentine's Day, and you had planned a special day for just the two of you. Gently, you brushed your fingers against Robin's cheek, inviting her to wake up with you.

As you both lazily opened your eyes, a soft smile stretched across your face. "Happy Valentine's Day." you whispered, leaning in for a tender kiss.

The start of the day was great. It wasn't until you two were in the kitchen, trying to put together breakfast that the phone rang, interrupting the intimate atmosphere.. Robin left your side to get it.

Frustration clouded your face when she made it known who was in the phone. "Steve, some of us have significant others who we celebrate Valentine's with." Her tone was playful, but you knew she secretly meant it. Every holiday started with a call from Steve. It was mostly to complain about him being single on such days. You and Robin had to invite Steve out of pity. You didn't mind it much. But Valentine's Day is the day for "lovers", not lovers and their friend.

You plucked the phone from her hand, "What do you want, Steve? Can't you see it's a special day?"

Steve's voice crackled through the line, his tone oblivious to your annoyance. "Hey, sorry to bother you, but I need Robin's help with something for work. It's kinda urgent."

You exchanged a knowing look with Robin. "Steve, listen up. Today is Valentine's Day, and Robin and I have plans. It's really not a good time for work."

Robin chimed in, her voice laced with both irritation and playfulness. "Yeah, Steve. Can't you see we're busy here? Leave us alone for a change."

Steve's tone changed, realization dawning upon him. "Oh! Oh, wow, sorry. I didn't realize it was Valentine's Day. My bad. I'll, uh, figure it out myself. Enjoy your day!"

As you hung up, Robin wrapped her arms around you, pulling you closer

You smirked, leaning into her touch. "Thought you didn't care for Valentine's Day?"

Robin chuckled, her voice full of warmth and desire. "I don't. I just want to spend time with you."

You pinch her side, "How about you let me show you just how head over heels in love we can be, without all the cheesy stuff."

The rest of the day was filled with shared laughter, passionate kisses, and sweet, intimate moments that reaffirmed your love for each other. With each passing moment and bruising kiss, you both realized that Valentine's Day was simply a day to celebrate the love you had for one another, regardless of anyone else's expectations.

And in the midst of stolen glances and lingering touches, you both knew that this Valentine's Day would forever be etched in your memories as the day you affirmed that love transcends clichés and thrives on the genuine connection between two people.

At the end of the day, you did feel bad for poor, lonely Steve. So, who would it hurt if you invited him over for a movie night? It isn't third wheeling if he's invited.

•2021-2024 by xoxo-sarah on Tumblr•

•My work is not to be translated, copied, modified, and/or reposted on any other site without my permission. [I don't give permission!]

#📼#robin buckley #robin buckley fanfic #robin buckley fluff #robin buckley x reader #robin buckley x fem!reader #robin buckley x you #robin buckley x female reader #robin buckley x y/n #stranger things fanfic #stranger things x reader #stranger things fluff #xoxo-sarah 🩷

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feyhunter78 · 6 months

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Chapter Six - Miguel returns to his home to spend some time talking about you with his brother and sister-in-law. Ch 7

Miguel can’t stop thinking about what you said—well thought, the words turn over and over in his head, taunting him. He stares off into the distance, window open to the night air, heavy bookshelves lining the wall of his study, glowing screens surrounding him, filtering information in and out, compiling, collecting, processing. You, you, you, your face plagues his mind, he can’t eat, can’t sleep, can’t think as he replays your words. The way your voice rings so clear even in your own thoughts, the humor in your words, the desire he felt dripping down, heated and lush, making his face warm.

His fangs had pricked at his gums. He longed to turn on his heels and take you, sink his teeth, his fingers into your skin, claim the soft flesh as you sighed and whined for him, each desperate needy sound music to his ears. He would not fuck you in the morgue, he had too much respect for you and the dead to do such a thing, but maybe in his office? Or yours? Or the woods that bordered the morgue parking lot.

He would lay you down on soft grass, keep you covered with his body as you took him into your warm embrace, velvet walls welcoming him home, each sensitive spot exactly where he remembered them. You would beg for him, and he would give you all you desired, if only—

“Miguel, are you even listening to me?” Gabriel’s voice comes through the speaker, crackly and irritated, jolting him from his daydream.

“Of course.” Miguel says, straightening up, his eyes meeting his brother’s.

“What did he say then?” Mina asks, smiling teasingly at him through the screen, her accented tone lacks the irritation of his brother’s, she’s lived long enough that simple things like this only amuse her.

“That I should kidnap and turn y/n in order to bring her home in time for the solstice.” Miguel says, tapping his pen against his desk, running his free hand through his hair.

Mina looks at Gabriel in faux shock, raising her hand to lightly smack him on the arm. “He did not, Gabriel, why would you give him such terrible advice? You know she cannot enter the undead realm with attachments, it will muddle her transformation. It is imperative she relinquishes her hold on this Todd and accepts Miguel before she is bitten.”

“Miguel entered with attachments.” Gabriel says, shrugging as he dodges his wife’s playful attack.

They’re in their sitting room, one of many rooms they claimed ownership of in the Morris manor, all dark wood and heavy curtains, gold inlaid furniture and portraits scattered around. Miguel feels a pang of homesickness, knowing his own rooms lay unused, cold, longing for the light you bring, for you to return to your rightful place beside him.

“That was different, they were bound together, they are mates, like you and me.” Mina explains, exasperated. She has relayed this information time and time again, mostly because Miguel asks her too, but often times because Gabriel forgets why it’s so critically important you join their coven free of mortal ties.

His brother has a more laxed attitude about your ascension into immortality, frequently suggesting that it would be easier to simply compel and turn you. You have all of time to apologize if she’s upset about it, he’d say.

“Right, right, right, the magic of true love and all that.” Gabriel says, leaning back in his chair, and stretching out his arm to lay it across the back of Mina’s chair.

“I will not compel her and force her to turn, it has to be a choice.”

“But you would compel her to do other things? You dirty man, Miguel, I knew you had some trouble in you.” Mina wriggles her shoulders suggestively.

“That’s not—”

“Mina, we talked about this, you have to ease him into stuff like that.” Gabriel says.

Mina rolls her eyes. “He’s over a century old, he should not be so squeamish about this, as long as they do not detest you, you are not being violent, and you know that you can provide your mate pleasure I do not see the problem, I compelled you when we first met.”

Gabriel smiles, it’s a catlike, satisfied smile, as he reminisces. “A ghrá, I was a merchant’s son bound to be married off for my father’s monetary gain, and you were a beautiful foreign woman who wished for me to take her behind the inn. You would not have had to compel me if you had only asked for what you desired.” Trsl: my love/my dear

“One can never be too careful.” Mina says, waving her hand dismissively. “Did you not enjoy it?”

Gabriel laughs. “You know I did, is that not why I followed you into an early grave?”

Miguel watches them, a pit forming in his stomach, he’s happy for his brother, but moments like this are difficult. You are a mere fifteen minutes away, and yet he can’t go to you. He can’t bring you here and laugh alongside his family. Can’t sit as you tease him for the way he approached you, can’t kiss lovingly as his brother kisses Mina.

“I’m going to be sick.” He complains halfheartedly, giving his brother a sly wink. “I’ll talk to you two later. Goodnight.”

He shuts down his computers without fanfare, toying with his sister-in-law’s words. You don’t hate him, he would never be violent towards you, and he’s already proven he would be able to give you pleasure…

There is something intoxicating about the idea. Having you fully under his sway, pretty eyes glazed over, so pliable and obedient for him, your chin resting in his hand, perfect lips parted ever so slightly, gasps slipping from them as he touched you as he wished. Running his hand down your soft skin, playing you like a violin, each string taut and fine-tuned to produce beautiful music.

Yes, he would coax such beautiful sounds from your lips, a never-ending symphony of euphoria, played to an audience of one. He would be the only one to hear your songs, the only one to make you sing.

Miguel hopes the accidental reveal of Kasey's voicemail planted seeds of curiosity in your mind. Maybe—if he was lucky—seeds of jealousy would be scattered among them, taking root in your mind, your heart, driving you to see him in another light.

He knows you have a possessive streak, he merely must tap into it, turn your focus onto him, onto obtaining and keeping him. He has to make you want him, more than you’ve wanted anyone else in your life. Miguel knows he would be able to do such a thing through carnal pleasures, but a small part of him longs for you to look at him as you once did. With such innocent joy, simply happy to be in his presence.

That look can only bloom from true affection, from pure appreciation and trust. He must build up your trust in him, become someone you rely on for more than just sex. He will pay more attention to your thoughts. Try to glean every spec of information you unknowingly reveal to him until he has an arsenal of knowledge that will allow him to slip into every role you need filled in your life. Then you will look at him as you did before.

I put this in the ao3 end note, putting it here as well: Now no one come at Mina for being like "just hypnotize her and have sex with her" bc she's not meaning r4pe y/n. She's just an old-world vampire who knows that mates are bound to each other and usually want to jump each other's bones 24/7 + she's assuming y/n is shy and/or too nervous about cheating on Todd sober to act on her desires, sooooo she's suggesting Miguel *give y/n some confidence*

TL: @obi-mom-kenobi, @poutysprouty, @oharasfilipinawife, @laysmt, @cicithemess, @unabashedcroissanttreefan, @lynxslokley, @thedevax, @generalkenobitrash

#meg's writing #miguel o'hara x reader #miguel ohara x reader #vamp!miguel o'hara #vampire!miguel #vamp!au #vampire Miguel O'Hara #miguel o'hara x you #miguel o'hara x y/n #miguel ohara x you #miguel ohara x y/n #morgue miguel

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cinnamongorll · 4 months

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a fragile line - chapter 21

read on ao3! (111k words) | previous chapter | next chapter | masterlist

Pairing: Joel Miller x Female OC

Tags: extreme slow burn, age gap, older man/younger woman, protective joel, jealous joel, hurt/comfort, pov third person, mutual pining, angst, sexual tension, friends to lovers, canon-typical violence, feral joel, parental abuse, eventual smut.

Series synopsis: three years ago, Juliet escaped her father's religious survivor camp, ending up in the Boston QZ. Juliet created a life for herself in Boston, desperate to forget the trauma of her upbringing. One day, Juliet arrives home to find a mysterious letter which forces her to return to her home town. Juliet can't travel the harsh post-apocalyptic landscape alone, so she enlists the help of the grumpy and, at times, frightening man she works alongside: Joel Miller.

Word count: 4.5k

Chapter 21: 'I'm Your Man'

Juliet’s POV:

Juliet’s eyes opened to a multitude of colours. Shades of blue bled through gaps in the thick canopy of leaves above her. It was dull, but not dark. The last remnants of daylight still brightened the sky, postponing the darkness a little longer.

Juliet lay on the ground, staring up at the branches filtering her view of the sky. She blinked a few times, allowing her eyesight to focus. The fog of sleep still lingered, blocking any frightening thoughts from entering her fragile mind. Juliet stretched out her fingers and found that she was lying on something, it felt soft and warm, a sleeping bag?

She listened. There was a sizzling sound, joined by the smell of tomatoes? Juliet wasn’t sure, but her stomach rumbled in response. A groan escaped her lips as she attempted to turn her body in the direction of the sound, and the smell. There was a blurry figure to her left, hunched over what she assumed was a camping stove. She could see the faint blue flames flickering below the outline of a black pot. Juliet blinked another few times, attempting to fully regain her eyesight.

As her body shifted to the side, fresh pain radiated across her stomach, bringing tears to Juliet’s eyes. She almost collapsed back onto the ground, but the fog was clearing from her mind and Juliet was desperate to gain a proper grip on her reality. So she bit her lip, her teeth piercing the delicate, cracked skin, and used her shaky arms to push herself up until she sat upright on the sleeping bag, facing the direction of the blurry figure.

Juliet was breathing heavily, her whole body echoed the tiredness she felt deep in her bones. The longer she was awake, the more pain started to travel across her body, lighting a blazing path through her limbs, across her stomach, and up to her head. Juliet reached her hand up to the side of her face, gently hovering over the crusted blood with trembling fingers. A long groan released from between her gritted teeth.

“Juliet?” the blurry figure called, his voice sounded gentle but urgent.

“Hmmm,” she moaned, her eyes were closed as she waited for the fresh wave of pain to subside.

Juliet didn’t know where she was or who she was with and, as the fog continued to clear, she began to feel unnerved by this thought.

Then her eyes opened into a deep, piercing shade of green.

“Ethan?”

His blurry figure had moved from the stove to the space next to Juliet’s hunched body, tilting sideways on the sleeping bag.

“Hey,” he whispered, his voice cushioned with concern.

Juliet blinked again and remembered the last time she woke. Her terror, her scream, the pity in Ethan’s eyes. She had been so delirious, so confused, so caught up in her father’s lie. God, what must Ethan think of her? To have saved her all those years ago and then watch Juliet fear the sight of him.

“Juliet, please,” Ethan breathed. “I won’t hurt you. I would never hurt you,” he begged in a quiet voice, inching closer to her frozen form.

Juliet forced herself not to back away, to stay entirely still as Ethan moved towards her. Juliet believed him, that he would never hurt her. He had saved her, cared for her. He had loved her once. But the sight of him brought ugly memories to her brittle mind, banging on the brick wall she had built around the worst, most disturbing thoughts that she was still too weak to remember.

“I know,” she murmured, forcing her bottom lip between her teeth again.

A breath of pure relief rushed from Ethan’s mouth and his eyes softened as he continued to stare at her. A small smile tugged at the corner of his mouth. It reminded Juliet of warm summer days, lounging on the grass. It reminded her of shy, gentle touches in dark rooms. It reminded her of hope, of something good in the world.

Juliet allowed herself to look at Ethan, really look at him for the first time in almost four years. His eyes had lost a little of their light, they were duller, darkened by deep purple circles beneath them. His jaw, which he had always kept clean shaven, was speckled with hair. His cheekbones were sharper, more defined and his cheeks looked sunken, hollowed.

What had happened to him after she left?

Juliet was desperate to ask, to discover why her father had bragged about his work with Ethan, the journey to salvation he had also promised her. But Juliet was overcome with a deep aching guilt which had wrapped around her heart for the past four years, forcing the words to rush from her mouth.

“I’m so sorry I left. I shouldn’t have let you push me through the gate, I should have come back for you earlier, I -”

Juliet’s list of regrets were cut off by the feel of Ethan’s hands as they cupped her cheeks. She flinched as Ethan’s fingers brushed the bruising on her face, her skin had instantly begun to throb under his touch.

He tilted her face up, forcing her to meet his eyes, which were now only inches from her own.

“You have nothing to apologise for. All I ever wanted was for you to have a life free from Elijah and everything he did to you. You were supposed to stay away. God Juliet, why did you come back?” Ethan soothed, his words rushed.

Juliet’s lips parted as Ethan reached his thumb up to brush away the tears she hadn’t realised had begun to fall from her blurry eyes. Ethan’s words washed over her, bringing a new tide of horror. She couldn’t begin to explain the letter, or the journey back to him. She couldn’t think of anything other than her father and the memory of what Ethan had told Joel outside the dark car.

“He’s… he’s dead, isn’t he?” Juliet breathed, struggling to get the words out as the realisation choked her.

Shock blazed in Ethan’s eyes.

“I -” he started. “Yes,” Ethan nodded. “He’s dead.”

Juliet was thankful for Ethan’s gentle hands as they held her upright, taking the weight of the horror in her head.

“How?” she demanded, reaching her trembling hands up to place on top of Ethan’s, urging him with her gentle touch to clear up the confusion in her head, to fill in the gaps and the missing pieces.

Ethan stayed silent. Juliet could almost see the thoughts swirling in his head as she stared into his glossy eyes. His eyebrows furrowed and he swallowed rough before he broke eye contact.

Ethan looked to his left, beyond the camping stove which continued to cook whatever food he had left on top of it. Ethan’s eyes strayed into the forest around them, searching for something.

Searching for someone.

When his gaze returned to her, Ethan realised his mistake. His eyes had revealed more than he meant to.

Juliet started to pull back from him, understanding beginning to stiffen her muscles, but Ethan wouldn’t let her. His fingers pressed harder into her cheeks, holding her in place, forcing her gaze to remain within his eyes. Juliet’s bruises were roaring in pain as Ethan’s grip tightened.

“Please Juliet, just let me explain what happened,” he urged.

Juliet didn’t want to hear an explanation. She just wanted a name. She just wanted to know who had killed her father.

But she already knew. Juliet knew exactly who Ethan was searching for with that look.

Right on time, the sound of crushed leaves and broken twigs entered the space. Juliet couldn’t turn her head, couldn’t look at the approaching figure, as Ethan’s hands continued to cradle her face. But Juliet would recognise those thundering steps anywhere.

“What are you doin’?” his deep, gritted, voice demanded.

Ethan instantly let go of her and Juliet turned to stare up at Joel as he towered over them.

“Joel,” breathed Juliet. But she didn’t need to get his attention because his intense stare was already locked onto her, his eyes roaming over her face, darkening when he caught sight of the bruises and the dried blood.

“You should be restin’” he told Juliet before his eyes darted to Ethan, who had let go of her face but hadn’t moved away. Ethan’s legs were still pressed against her own, his body still leaning towards her.

“Food’s burnin’” Joel practically growled. Ethan’s eyes shot to the stove and he lept up, scrambling to take the pot off of the heat.

Juliet released a weighted breath.

Joel had killed her father.

Some more gaps in her memory began to fill in, she remembered the basement, she remembered the slap, she remembered the hot poker. And then nothing.

But there was more, she knew there was more that she was missing, more gaps littered through her memory.

Juliet’s eyes dipped from Joel’s to his hands and the bloody, open skin on his knuckles.

Joel had killed her father and, by the look of it, used his own hands to do the job.

Juliet felt like her whole worldview was titling. How had her life changed so much in a matter of months? And then again, in a matter of hours?

There were too many emotions, too many thoughts swirling in her head. Threads of guilt, fear, and anger were entangled and, looking at Joel, she found that she was unable to separate them.

Looking at Joel... Juliet was afraid.

Not so much of him, but for him. What had he been forced to do to save himself? To save her? Juliet brought him there, she had bribed him, convinced him to take her home. And now he stood before her with broken knuckles and a wide eyed, horror filled expression.

“Joel, what happened? Where are we?” she whispered, staring up at him through damp eyelashes.

His eyebrows pinched together as a muscle jumped in his jaw. Joel’s eyes darted to the forest around them before his hand found the back of his neck and his eyes found hers again.

“We’ve been drivin’ bout a day and a half, since we left…” he cut himself off.

Juliet nodded, the action forcing more dizziness to invade her vision. She thought she saw Joel move to step forward, his hand widening towards her. But when she looked up again, he was standing as still as carved marble. She must have imagined it.

There was so much to say to him. So many questions to ask. He had killed her father, and Juliet couldn’t make sense of how to feel about it. The most prominent emotion firing through her mind was guilt, an unbearable feeling of remorse pressing tight against her chest.

“What happened?” she pressed again, desperate to gain a full picture of that night. How had Joel and Ethan met? Did Joel find her after she had passed out? Every question that floated through her mind was accompanied by a new flash of pain in various parts of her body. Everything ached.

Joel gritted his teeth and Juliet watched as his jaw moved from side to side ever so slightly. Then he parted his lips and Juliet’s heartbeat quickened with anticipation. But before Joel could utter a word, or even give a hint of an explanation, Ethan appeared between them with two metal plates in his hands, each containing a strange looking red sludge with dark, burnt patches.

“Here,” he muttered as he handed one to Joel without looking up at the daggers in his eyes. Then Ethan bent down and gave Juliet the other, placing it carefully in her lap.

Juliet nodded her thanks before her eyes returned to Joel. She started to remember what happened in the car. The way he touched her face with such tenderness and the soothing words he whispered. Juliet craved that closeness again, she needed him next to her, to hold her as she was falling apart.

Juliet blinked, startled as Ethan sat down beside her with his own metal plate, shifting so that their knees touched. Juliet watched Joel follow the movement with a lethal focus before he clenched his hand around his plate, took two steps back and sat down on the ground opposite to them.

As the sky darkened, Joel brought out his torch, placing it on the ground to illuminate the small patch of forest the three of them occupied. Ethan started eating with a ravenous pace, Joel was slower, more careful of the food, savouring it as he ate. Juliet worried for Ethan, when was the last time he had a proper meal?

Juliet looked down at her plate. It didn’t look edible, but most foods didn’t look edible nowadays. Still, she couldn't bring herself to eat.

Juliet bit her lip hard to stop tears from forming in her eyes. She had done enough damage, she refused to show Ethan or Joel more of the mess that lived inside her head. Juliet picked up the metal fork Ethan gave her with shaking fingers and started to push her food about the plate, putting on a show.

“Need to decide where we’re going, Juliet,” Ethan said between mouthfuls of food, nudging her with his knee.

Juliet’s eyes darted to Joel. He wasn’t looking at her, but she noticed that his hand had stilled over his plate, and she watched as his fingers curled tighter around the fork.

Slowly, she turned her head to Ethan. He had continued eating but Juliet knew he was awaiting a response.

She had never considered where she would go after leaving her father’s community because she hadn’t even considered that she would have a life after returning home. Ethan’s question seemed like a fairytale, the idea that Juliet could choose what to do with her life was a fantasy. Her brain struggled to conceptualise a future for herself beyond the forest they sat within. Juliet found her mind drifting to the man who sat opposite her, his broken knuckles flashing red in the torchlight. Having spent years working alongside Joel in the QZ and then months sharing every moment of every day together… Juliet struggled to imagine a future beyond him.

Juliet made a noncommittal sound with a shrug of her stiff shoulders. “I’m not sure,” she answered, staring down at her plate. The guilt in her chest grew again. Ethan had never left the community and had always dreamt of leaving and travelling the country, finding other survivors, making a life for the both of them.

Her heart squeezed with shame when she realised that she didn’t share that same desire. Juliet had been on her own for a while now, had travelled the country, and had experienced the worst parts of humanity. She was tired and weary of the world. Juliet just wanted to feel safe.

Ethan should have been the one to escape that day, not Juliet. She didn’t deserve the freedom, it was never her dream.

“Come on,” he urged. “We always talked about leaving, going anywhere we wanted.” Ethan’s voice was confused and almost pleading.

Juliet had tried not to indulge Ethan’s fantasies in the past. Even when she responded with polite words, her chronic cynicism had always shone through. Ethan must remember a different image of her, one tinted by the rose coloured lenses of hope and fear.

“We could travel the country, meet new people,” he continued, now turning to face her again. “Even see the world!” Ethan said with a laugh.

Juliet flinched, stilling her fork over her untouched food. She saw Blake’s face in her mind, the night he found her in the woods. She had been so afraid, so utterly unprepared for life outside of the gates of her father’s community. Juliet paid a lot for his protection. And god did she need it. Her journey to Boston taught her a lot of things. She learned how to kill and how to not feel bad about it. She learned how to swallow her tongue and she learned how to survive. Ethan had no idea what he was talking about, and she was glad. Juliet never wanted Ethan to see the things she had seen or experience the things she had experienced. Ethan was a logical person, having spent his days studying medicine, but he had one fault and it was his unflinching ability to preserve his hope at all costs. Juliet just prayed his hope wouldn’t get him killed one day.

“I -” she began, stopping when the words almost choked her.

“She’s already seen it all,” a gruff voice interrupted.

Ethan stiffened, sitting up straighter. Juliet risked a glance at him from the corner of her eye and found that he was staring straight at Joel, his mouth transformed into a tight line. Juliet’s eyes flickered to Joel next, surprised by his words. But he wasn’t looking at her, his eyes, blazing with fury, were positioned on Ethan’s irritated expression.

“It’s a big world, Joel,” Ethan argued, his eyes darting to Juliet. “Juliet and I have been given a second chance, we’re not going to waste it.”

Juliet frowned, reaching a hand to rest on Ethan’s knee, attempting to get his attention. The air had grown incredibly tense and Juliet was too tired, and in too much pain, to bear witness to whatever pissing contest was going on in front of her.

Joel’s eyes followed her movement, his jaw hardening at the sight of her trembling fingers on Ethan’s leg.

“What does Juliet think?” Joel mused, his words dripped in bitterness as the sly shadow of a smile darkened the corners of his lips. He still didn’t meet Juliet’s very pointed stare, rather continuing to pierce Ethan with his downward gaze.

Ethan, finally noticing her touch on his knee, turned towards Juliet. A crease formed between his brows. Her heart skipped a beat when she realised they were both awaiting her answer.

Juliet stared into Ethan’s eyes and took a deep breath. She had to be truthful with him. “I don’t know what to think, I just want somewhere safe. I’m tired, Ethan. I’ve seen enough,” Juliet explained, softening her words to ease Ethan’s discomfort.

Ethan’s eyes flickered with hurt, and fractures formed in Juliet’s heart as she eased her hand off of his knee. He swallowed rough then turned his attention on Joel, attempting to mirror his look of contempt.

“Well, what’s your plan then?” Ethan demanded. “You’ve saved Juliet, you’ve got your supplies - where are you going?”

Juliet looked between them both. There was such anger in Ethan’s words, Juliet wondered what had caused such a rift between them after knowing each other for such a short time.

Joel completely ignored Ethan, instead choosing to stare directly into Juliet’s eyes. She found that she had to stop herself from squirming under the weight of his sole attention.

“Tommy’s still out there, I’m gonna go find him,” he began, his words quiet but forceful. “And my guess is he’s found somewhere to hole up, maybe... somewhere safe.”

Juliet’s breath caught in her throat. His words were clear, Juliet understood exactly what he was saying.

He had presented her with an offer, another amendment to their original deal.

“Somewhere safe,” she instantly repeated.

Ethan’s head whipped between them.

“Juliet you can’t seriously want us to go with him,” Ethan argued, realising what her words meant, leaning closer into Juliet, attempting to speak into her ear. “You know what he’s done.”

Juliet’s head turned sharply, her nose almost touching Ethan’s as she stared at him with a piercing look. “Ethan, Joel got me to you. He helped me save you. I know exactly what he’s done,” she whispered back, her words almost transforming into a hiss as they continued to rush from her lips. “The only difference is that you don’t know what I’ve done, what I’m capable of now.” She paused, squeezing her eyes shut for a moment, then opened them back into Ethan’s shocked stare. Her anger had taken over so suddenly, Juliet hadn't realised how much rage bubbled under the surface of her skin.

“I need this journey to end, I want us to have a life without fear or bloodshed. Maybe we can find it there, together,” she continued after a breath, softer this time.

After a moment, Ethan’s eyes finally softened at her words and he leaned back. He turned towards Joel, then back to Juliet, and nodded slowly. “Where you go, I go,” he declared, pinning her with his stare.

The tension began to crack and Juliet watched Joel release his vice-like grip on his fork and continue eating. She breathed a sigh of relief. For a moment, Juliet’s panic began to subside. She knew it was selfish, but she was terrified of a possibility where she was separated from Joel, where she would never feel his commanding presence walking behind her, or feel his touch whenever he let his guard down.

Juliet stared down at her plate. “Where you go, I go,” she repeated in a whisper.

Juliet wasn’t entirely sure which man her words were meant for.

………………………………….

Later, when Ethan had passed out on his sleeping bag, Juliet was still awake.

She sat hunched over, her plate of food still sat on her lap, uneaten. The pain from her burn had reached a point where she was unable to move, any adjustment of her body forced every muscle on her torso to lock up in agony.

She could see Joel in the distance, standing between two trees, a shotgun in his hands. He had taken the first watch but Juliet assumed his watch would last the entire night. She could tell that Joel didn’t trust Ethan and Juliet was currently unable to stand. So, Joel held the sole responsibility of their safety once more.

Sat on her sleeping bag, unable to lie down, Juliet had a lot of time to think. She recalled her time in the basement, forcing herself to re experience every horrible second to try and uncover that final missing piece of her memory. The thought of it made her stomach churn so she knew that her body remembered, but something in her mind was holding it back.

When the memory of the hot poker and the satisfaction in her father’s eyes reentered her mind again, Juliet knew enough was enough. She had to get to sleep. So, she managed to slide her pate off of her lap and onto the ground beside her, then she sucked in another deep breath and -

“Fuck,” she gasped out as she attempted to twist her body to the side. The pain was unbearable, tears burned in her eyes as she attempted to slow her breaths.

Seconds later, a hand gently grasped her chin, forcing her gaze up to meet his.

Joel knelt down in front of her, his shotgun now dropped onto the ground next to her plate.

“What’s wrong?” he demanded as his dark eyes searched hers.

Juliet was so tired, she didn’t have the energy to disguise her pain anymore. Tears began to cloud her vision.

“I can’t move. Can you help me?” she murmered, her voice cracking as she said the words.

Joel’s lips parted as he nodded once, sharp and quick. “What do you need?” he asked softly.

Juliet was always amazed by the gentleness that lay beneath Joel’s hard, rough exterior. And she was beginning to notice that it only ever appeared when they were alone, when Joel would look into her eyes in the dark and feel the electricity spark between them.

“Can you help me lie down? It hurts too much,” Juliet replied as a yawn worked its way up her throat.

“I can do that,” Joel assured her in his quiet voice, thick with his southern drawl when he spoke this low.

Juliet braced herself as Joel positioned himself behind her and slowly tugged her body down onto his lap. The tears were freely pouring from her eyes, the pain was a blazing fire on her torso. But Joel’s touch was soothing and within seconds, he had her lying on her sleeping bag with her head on his lap. She wasn’t sure how they managed to get into his position but she released a quiet moan as soon as her head hit Joel’s thigh, she was so tired and his body was so warm, Juliet could feel herself drifting off.

But before sleep could take her, she felt the rough skin of Joel’s fingers sweep a lock of hair off of her face and tuck it behind her ear. She opened her tired eyes to find Joel gazing down at her. Even in the dark, Juliet could see the way his pupils flared, darkening his eyes even further. He waited a moment, then tucked his hands under her head, pulled his body out from beneath her and laid her head onto the sleeping bag.

Juliet didn’t take her eyes off of him and, although she no longer lay on his lap, Joel didn’t move from her side. As Juliet watched him, she saw Joel’s eyes dart to the plate of food on the ground and his jaw tensed.

“You’re not eatin’” he said.

Juliet swallowed and licked her lips. “Not hungry,” she murmured, not breaking eye contact.

Her sleep deprived brain didn’t have the same filter as normal and Juliet found herself desperate to ask Joel about her father. She had to know if it was true. She had to hear it from him.

“Joel,” she breathed. “Ethan told me what happened.”

Joel’s entire body stiffened but he didn’t look away, he didn’t try to deny it.

“What he did to you -” Joel started, then paused to shake his head. “He had to die.”

Joel’s words were so clinical and detached as though his memory had taken him back to that moment.

Juliet felt lightheaded at the thought of Joel seeing her like that. The fact that Joel had witnessed what her father had done to her… what she had let him do to her. Juliet was ashamed and the guilt choked her.

“I know,” she said.

Shock blazed in Joel’s eyes. Juliet watched the muscles in his throat move.

“I never meant for you to get involved. You were supposed to get your supplies and leave. I never thought it would turn out like this, that you would have had to ….” Juliet trailed off, breathless from the release of her guilt soaked words.

“Don’t,” Joel ordered as a dangerous look began to cross his face. He opened his mouth and looked like he was going to say something else but then his eyes dropped to her hands which hovered over her stomach and he stopped, his lips pressing together.

He shook his head and his eyes shot to the stars that filtered through the trees above them.

“You should’ve told me,” he said quietly with an aching intensity after a long moment.

But Juliet’s eyes had fallen closed and the sound of his slow breaths had already lulled her to sleep.

___________________________________

@amyispxnk @shotgun-shelby @http-paprika

#joel miller x original character #joel miller x reader #joel miller x oc #joel miller x female oc #joel miller hbo #joel miller fanfic #joel miller angst #ao3 fanfic #joel miller #joel miller fic #pedro pascal #joel tlou #the last of us #tlou #tlou hbo #Spotify

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wonitten · 4 days

Text

DETECTIVE TROUBLEMAKER (YJ)

Part 3. Part 2 ; Part 1

synopsis: In a desperate attempt to salvage her career, a klutzy detective plans to kidnap a corrupt minister as part of her final assignment. However, her plans go hilariously awry when she mistakenly kidnaps a charming mafia boss instead. But perhaps there was more to it.

pairings: Mafia boss! Jungwon x detective! readerft. Boss! Heeseung, assistant! Sunghoon, hot delivery man! Jake

genre: Comedy, romance, crime, Dramedy

warnings: death, mentions of blood, organ trafficking

wc: 1.4k

The morning sunlight filtered through the blinds of the detective agency, casting long shadows across the cluttered desk where Heeseung lay snoring amidst a mountain of files.

There can't possibly be anything that could get him up from his deep sleep—His peaceful slumber was abruptly interrupted by the shrill ring of the telephone, prompting him to groggily reach for the receiver.

"Detective Heeseung speaking," he slurrs, rubbing the remnants of drool from the corner of his mouth.

"Hello, this is Jake from your local Papa Jones and you know what we just finished making? Your fifty large pepperoni pizzas and I'm on my way to deliver them. Better have the cash ready," the voice on the other end chirped cheerfully.

Heeseung shot up in his chair, suddenly wide awake. "Hey! Hold on a minute! I didn't order any pizza! Hello!? Are you listening to me?" he exclaimed, but the line had already gone dead, leaving him staring at the receiver in bewilderment.

"And that is the story behind my motivation", Heeseung muttered, while scribbling down on his notes furiously.

Sunghoon, his assistant, raised an incredulous eyebrow. "So let me get this straight, you work this hard every day because you're still in debt to Papa Jones for fifty pizzas, turns out you also found the delivery man attractive, so you accidentally gave him your bank details to avoid looking broke... God, tell me this is a bunch of bullcrap."

Heeseung shrugged nonchalantly, burying himself back in the stack of files before him. "Believe what you will, but the truth is often stranger than fiction."

Just then, you breezed into the office, exuding boundless energy and enthusiasm. "Good morning, Boss!" you chirped, flashing a bright smile.

Heeseung nodded in acknowledgment, his attention already diverted back to his work.

Sunghoon watches your energetic greeting with a knowing look. His gaze wanders over your file, before landing them on the familiar bracelet on your wrist.

"Oh where did you get that bracelet from Y/n", He frowns lightly, while asking. Then laughs awkwardly. "It looks very pretty".

"Really? You can take this then", You shrugged casually, unhooking the bracelet and offering it to him. "Some careless person left it in my pocket, so it's all yours."

"Some careless person...", Sunghoon mutters to himself, holding onto the bracelet with 'YJ' initials before reminiscing yesterday's memories.

"My friend has a girl, and he proposed a date indirectly to her, but like she didn't get it," His boss mutters, thinking about the scenario. "But when he asked indirectly again if they were on a date, she looked at him in disgust, panicked kind of way, which is weird because why would anyone not go on a date with him? He is literally a whole package."

"Either he is stupid, she is stupid or the girl has someone she likes? Can I get the name of the girl you like so I can research about her?", He says.

"Yeah her name is....", Jungwon paused, as his words sinks in his mind. "Wait. It's not me!".

"Whatever you say boss"

"Some careless person as in...", Sunghoon puts the bracelet inside his pocket. 'Yang Jungwon', he thought.

He got out of the office and smacked his head for not realising it sooner. After all, the town was smaller; why did he think his boss would have any better taste in women?

Obviously, Jungwon was talking about going on a date with you, while you wanted to go on a date with Heeseung, and Heeseung is an oblivious idiot — this has gotta be some load of triangle nonsense.

"Lord Jesus Christ, help me."

______________

It was evening.

And everyone was eager to head home, including the officers of the detective agency. However, their plans were put on hold when they were called to an urgent case that has occured the cafe.

The same cafe where you waited for Jungwon to repay him.

After gathering details from the cops, Heeseung had relied the information that the woman had died at 9 pm. Surprisingly, the CCTV cameras showed her getting out from the train from city, then laughing and talking on her phone before suddenly throwing up blood near the cafe.

Sunghoon furrowed his brow as he examined the pictures of the victim, intrigued by the discrepancy as they showed otherwise. In the photos, she had been stabbed brutally in the stomach.

Perhaps the CCTV footage had been tampered? But the eyewitnesses called for the ambulance, and claimed the same. So who was lieing? The corpse? The eyewitness? The cctv camera? All of them couldn't lie together.

Something was missing here.

Sunghoon raked his fingers through his hair, before checking on the cctv again, while Heeseung continued to talk with the cops.

He saw as the the woman looked perfectly fine, talking to her friend with excitement, when suddenly she gasps loudly, and drops her phone onto the ground, blood flowing from her mouth as she looks at the passer-by for help. And then one of them calls the paramedics, and soon they enter, and lift her onto the stretcher. It ends there.

He tilted his head confused, before turning towards the two people standing beside the cafe who gave the testimony. "I have a question for you two. Did you see blood on her stomach, after she was lifted onto the ambulance? It's not clearly visible here".

Jun answering with glee," Blood was everywhere, sir! It was hard to understand since everyone was panicking."

"We called the ambulance and they came sooner than we expected, within two minutes, and then the paramedics lifted her up on the stretcher and brought her to the hospital I believe", his friend said, looking up as if trying to remember.

Sunghoon thanked them, before turning his attention towards you, who was sipping on apple juice. "You've been sipping on that for a while. Help me around here."

You shrugged, still sipping onto it, while being absorbed on your phone.

"I'm not paid enough for this," Sunghoon groaned, turning away.

Heeseung approached both of you, raising his eyebrows. "Any clues?"

When Sunghoon shook his head, Heeseung smirked. "Well, I've got one from my good friend. He contacted me."

Sunghoon parted his lips in realisation. The good friend was none other than the anonymous benefactor helping them solve clues once in a while. That person is the reason why he was tasked to infiltrate in the detective agency as an assistant, and to inform about his whereabouts and deductions to his real boss, Jungwon.

"It's the paramedics"

"The paramedics? Why would they—" Sunghoon started, but Heeseung interrupted him.

"They never arrived. Think about it. Why would paramedics arrive within two minutes when the nearest hospital takes at least half an hour?" Heeseung played with his pen, jotting down notes. "She was murdered in the ambulance, which is why the hospital concluded she died the same time she fainted."

Sunghoon widens his eyes in understanding. "Ah, I see now! But what could be their motive for killing her? And what about her vomitting blood in the beginning?."

"That?" Heeseung gestured towards the police officers. "The cops said they will bring it out themselves since some gangs and organ trafficking are getting involved here."

Sunghoon's eyes glisten with interest at that. "Oh? I guess it's the same as the case before."

"It seems so. Ugh, I wanna go home now" Heeseung said, stifling a yawn. "Come to think of it, I haven't slept for three days."

You gasped "No way, Heeseung. You should sleep right now. Sunghoon, drive him home!"

"Why me?" Sunghoon protested. "You do it!"

"I don't know how to drive a car," you pout.

"Then... then..." Sunghoon groaned. "Fine, I'll drive you home."

As they both walk away, you smoothly threw the empty can of apple juice into the nearby dustbin. With your other hand slipping the phone back into your pocket, a subtle flicker of curiosity dances in your eyes—a momentary lapse in your typically chaotic demeanor that goes unnoticed by both Heeseung and Sunghoon.

Your gaze casually drifts towards the photographs of the crime scene. Though your expression remains neutral, there's a subtle undercurrent of amusement in the way you study the images.

"pity"

Tearing your gaze away, you seamlessly rejoin Heeseung and Sunghoon and effortlessly slip back into their conversation.

author note? : enhypen album is near, exam is near. And the combination of both, doesn't usually go good, does it? Atleast the album will serve as my gift for exams.

Series Tag list: @drunkhee @booooooooooooooooooooooos @suhiiiiiii @mrsyangsikmoa @nyfwyeonjun

#enhypen #enha imagines #enha x reader #enhypen x reader #jungwon #jungwon enhypen #jungwon x reader #enhypen jungwon #sunghoon #enha heeseung #jake enhypen

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pandoradoesotherstuff · 8 months

Text

The Courage we Need to be Joyful...

------------------------------------------

A/N: After much discussion with @astrandofgold, repeated listening of the soundtrack and one let's play later: I'm fucking obsessed with Stray Gods. The story is engaging, and the songs are beautiful and powerful. So of course your girl here had to try her hand at writing something for it! This is a sweet fluffy love confession Apollo x gn!reader.

( I based reader on the Greek deity Circe, known for their vast knowledge of potions and herbs. Reader is mentioned to have the eidolon of that idol)

Warning: contains mild spoilers for the game and the ending!

Enjoy! ❤️

You smile contentedly to yourself as you gently stir the cauldron that's simmering merrily in the fireplace. Your kitchen smells like lavender and fresh herbs, sunlight filtering in through the voile curtains that covered the window. The sound of bickering voices outside your apartment in the Olympus block catches your attention. There's a moment of silence before someone knocks loudly at the door.

You stir the latest concoction once more before making your way over to the front door, it was Grace. The newest last muse who had been given Calliope's eidolon, opened up the secrets on her death and generally turned the lives of the idols upside down. (About time really.) Then standing almost shyly behind her was Apollo, the idol of prophecy and enlightenment himself. You smile warmly at them both, trying hard not to let your eyes wander over the open shirted sun god in front of you.

"Grace, Apollo, what can I do for you both?"

Grace playfully elbows Apollo with a mischievous smirk.

"This guy here has something he'd like to talk to you about."

Your stomach flips nervously but you don't let it show on your face.

"Sure, come on in. Make yourself at home."

You move to the side as the muse ushers him in the door, Apollo looking like a deer in the headlights.

"Well, I'm going to let you two crazy kids get to it. I'll see you later." Grace shoots Apollo a meaningful look before leaving quickly. Something was definitely going on here.

"Do you mind coming through to the kitchen for a moment? I have a new mixture brewing and I'd rather not have it burnt to the bottom of the cauldron."

The small laugh he gives is like music to your ears as he follows you through the small apartment.

Apollo sets himself down at your small round kitchen table as you lift the mini cauldron off of the fire and onto a pot stand on the side.

"What is it?" He asks as you add a little pinch more of powdered satyr hoof from the clay pots that lined your countertop.

"A simple sleeping draft...for Athena. After everything she's finding it hard to find rest so..."

"Ah", was all he said. Not needing any more explanation. Admittedly he was surprised you were still helping her after everything, but he also knew you had a weakness for helping those in need. It was part of your nature to help no matter what.

You sit down at the other side of the table, wishing you had something to do with your hands instead of nervously fidgeting with the hem of your sleeves.

"What was it you wanted to speak to me about? Is everything okay?" You glance up to see him quickly looking away with what appears to be an ever so slight blush on his cheeks.

"Much better now that the trial is over with and...and I know Calliope is at peace."

"I wish you could have told me about the prophecy, Athena, the Furies...any of it really." You reach out to place your hand over his larger one, a sad smile is playing on his lips. "I would have helped you in any way I could, I hope you know that."

He looks up at you with the same sad smile, turning his hand over to entwine your fingers. His hand feels strong and warm in yours. It feels almost natural.

"I couldn't. It wasn't safe. For all I knew I would have been cursing you to the same fate as Calliope. And I can't...I can't bear the thought of any harm coming to you". He sighs, running his other hand through his hair. You don't say anything, hoping it might prompt him to continue.

"We've known each other a long time. A long long time. I still remember the way your face lit up and you said my name when Circe's memories finally returned to you. They picked well with you for what it's worth."

You squeezed his hand gratefully, smiling shyly at him.

"It was the first real solid memory that had returned to me after almost two years. Before that I had only had little snatches of dejavu. But you...you I saw clear as day in my minds eye, and it felt like no time had passed since we last spoke all those years ago."

Apollo leans closer, now clasping your hand in both of his. Your heart beat races as you look deep into his eyes and see nothing but sincerity gazing back at you.

"This is...difficult to say and I guess I'm sorry I never realised it sooner. I've spent so long in the dark of my own mind, scared of hurting anyone with my prophecies, tired of losing the people I care about. Beyond terrified to let anyone in and then Grace, she..."

Oh. Grace. Of course. The beautiful last muse he'd helped to save. Of course it was her, she was talented and compassionate, it was bound to happen. Of course he'd fallen for her.

"She helped me to realise that the courage I need to be joyful was, well, inside me all along."

You're nodding along, a smile forced on your lips as you try to listen to this painful confession without flinching.

"I just have to reach out and take that chance".

"I'm happy for you a-"

"-I'm in love with you."

You freeze in place, mind completely blank and reeling from the confession. Could it be?

"I uh...y-you love me? You, Apollo, you...amazing, handsome, kind you...you love me?"

He stays quiet but squeezes your hand reassuringly. You're thankful he was giving you this time to process his words.

"Are you sure?" You ask quietly eventually, eyes cast down, still hardly believing what you'd just heard. He chuckles quietly before gently cupping your chin with one hand and tilts your face back up to look at him.

Apollo then leans over the small table, eyes flicking down to your lips briefly, lightly guiding you closer to him by his cupped hand. His lips touch yours ever so softly, a thousand butterflies exploding in your stomach at once as you kiss him back tentatively.

"I love you too," you whisper after a moment of silence. He smiles at you, bright and warm like the sun before letting go of you to pull you to your feet and into a tight embrace.

"I'm sorry I took so long to say it, but luckily for me I've got till the end of time to make up for it. If you'll let me?"

You pull him down into another kiss by his unbuttoned shirt, already craving the taste of his lips and the feel of his body close to yours.

"I think I can live with that."

#stray gods #apollo #apollo x reader #stray gods apollo #almost lost my god damn mind trying to type this out😭#mistakes were made but we got there lads😂

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az-cain · 1 year

Text

Bruised Thighs/Flowery Sheets

rhett abbott x reader ≈ 3300 words

TUMBLR ATE THE ASK DAMMIT, i am so so sorry anon, but it said:

If you're taking requests...sub!Rhett needing help to clear out his mind after having a rough ride and he can't stop the self-doubt. Poor boy just needs to be fucked so good his brain stops functioning 😈

this is pure filth! i love it. so fun to write. thank you to @girl-in-the-chairs-void for encouraging me and my terrible thoughts lmao, i wouldn’t have picked it back up today were it not for you.

TW FOR: description of bruises and hard landings, mild angst, brief mention of shitty fathers and poor body image, food and a poor relationship with it (ice cream), mild dacryphilia (crying kink), spanking, oral sex m&f!receiving, anal fingering m!receiving, pegging, dumbification, pet names (honey, baby, good boy, sweetie, darlin’)

Rhett’s thighs always hurt after a ride. The bull’s bucking consistently left his legs black and blue, so he’d grown accustomed to the pain. What he hadn’t grown accustomed to, however, was the sting of his forearms smacking the dirt on a bad dismount. The gravel dug in even through the thick shirt he wore, and the disappointment pierced through his skin beside it. As he scrambled away from the raging bull and into the pen, he sighed heavily, wearily, looking at the time. Five seconds. He hadn’t even made it ¾ of where he needed to be.

As he passed by his father, who clapped him on the back with a lightly-disguised look of displeasure and murmured common words of reassurance, he struggled to smile gratefully. He’d had an off day, he knew that was all. It was only a qualifier, so he wasn’t out of the game. Still, the stinging anger that rested behind his eyes refused to subside until he saw you.

You had his red flannel unbuttoned across your chest and your sports bra exposed to the wind, the summer night heat beating down on the whole stadium. Your jean shorts were just long enough to be decent, and the smile you gave him was anything but. His worries melted away, now just residing in his mind as a quiet nagging voice.

“Hey, baby,” you grinned, wrapping your arms around him eagerly and letting him bury his sweaty forehead in your equally sweaty neck. “How are you feeling after that dismount?”

He pulled back and tried to smile, lips quivering slightly, but ultimately shook his head in resignation. “Not great.”

You rubbed up and down his upper arms, meeting his eyes with a sad smile. “I know. You want to go get ice cream?”

He nodded with a sniffle, feeling like a child. He knew, though, that you only wanted to cheer him up. So, as you led him to his truck and pulled his keys out of your pocket to unlock it, he straightened his back and tried to push his bad thoughts from his mind.

Did it work? Not entirely.

As you shifted into drive, he clicked his seatbelt into place and felt you set your hand on his knee. You rubbed comforting circles on the soft skin and hummed along to the pop song filtering through the stifling summer air, made more tolerable by the blasting A/C and the open windows. He was struck, silently, by how much he loved you, and it gave him pause. Your hand on his knee calmed him significantly, almost enough to make him stop thinking about his off day.

As you pulled into the Dairy Queen drive-thru, you moved your hand back to the steering wheel. “Same as always?”

“Yes, ma’am,” he smiled gently, so entirely enamored with you.

He listened to you order for the two of you, the crackling response that was nearly inaudible, and your loud “thank you.” As you waited in the drive-thru line, you cranked up the radio and plugged in the classic rock cassette he’d recorded for you, much to your amusement.

A number of sleazy songs played loudly across his cheap, 20-year-old speakers, and as you sang— or belted, rather— the lyrics, he couldn’t find it in him to care that the two of you were being the annoying drive-thru patrons everyone despised. The pencil you’d found to use as a microphone was dropped into the cupholder as you lowered the volume and met the teenager’s extended hand with a thank you, collecting the two cups of ice cream that you handed to him. He took small spoonfuls of the stuff as you drove home, the negative thoughts seeping back in in the form of body image. He wondered if he’d have gotten a better time today if he didn’t eat so much ice cream.

Of course, he knew that these thoughts were silly, so he did his best to put them out of his mind as you pulled into the driveway of your home and helped him out of the car, offering yourself as a brace for his bruised thighs and stinging forearms.

You entered the house together, settled on the dark couch and ate silently with one another, content to simply be in each others’ presence. When you’d both finished, you took his cup and ventured into the kitchen to throw both away before returning to your seat. At your gesture, he laid his head upon your thigh and let your hands come to rest in his hair. You sat there, running your fingers through his long hair for minutes, until you began to want more.

You tugged lightly on it, just testing the waters, and Rhett keened, whimpering through the muffling of his palm. “Please,” he whined quietly. A faint smile split your cheeks and you hummed, continuing to scratch his scalp like you’d never pulled on it. “Want you,” he continued, turning to meet your eyes and lifting his hips off of the soft couch to try and find friction against his jeans.

Chuckling softly at his neediness, you nodded. “Okay, honey. Let’s go to the bedroom.” With that, you patted his shoulder to make him move, and stood up behind him. When he moved slowly because of his sore thighs, you smacked his ass. A loud groan ripped through him— and through you— as you said “C’mon, baby.”

He started walking faster, your legs keeping easy pace, and made it into the bedroom quickly. He turned around and grabbed for you, pressing his lips to yours eagerly.

“Need you, please,” he whined again, to which you pressed your lips against his harder, biting at his bottom lip and swiping your tongue against his. His desperation only served to turn you on, lightning ripping through your lower abdomen.

You pressed one more harsh kiss against his lips before you squeezed his ass and commanded, “Strip.”

Ever obedient, he reached to tug off his tight t-shirt as you took a step backwards. He shed the rest of his clothes quickly, his boots slipping off of his feet with ease, jeans and boxers falling to the carpet with the quiet whoosh of denim against skin. You watched eagerly as his cock, red and swollen, smacked against his milky-white thigh; you listened as he whimpered from the small amount of contact. You felt yourself clench with excitement as his hand twitched towards it, but you met his eyes and shook your head solemnly. He pursed his lips, breathing heavily, and nodded quickly in return.

“Good boy,” you crooned, approaching him again. One of your fingers traced along the ridge of his cock, a hum breaking from your chest as he bucked against you with a cry. “Stay still for me, sweetie. I’ll give you what you need.”

“Yes, ma’am.” The words were quiet, but the obedience warranted some kind of reward; noting this, you kissed down his neck, to his torso, to his Adonis belt, to the base of his cock, all the while slipping to your knees before him.

His breathing sped up, bruised thighs clenching and unclenching as he struggled to stay still for you. “Good boy,” you said, kissing along the tops of his thighs gently, working ever closer with each kiss.

Finally, reaching the wiry hair at the top of his cock, you looked up to meet his eyes. His eyes were foggy, lust-addled and exhausted, but when he met yours, you saw them warm up slightly with adoration.

You held that eye contact as you kissed down his length, gently taking the tip into your mouth and suckling lightly. A wail broke from his lips as he doubled over, hands balling up into fists with concentration. “Please, please, oh god—” Rhett breathed the words quietly, just loud enough to be heard over your own breaths.

The resolve to be good for you made you moan around him, your thighs pressing together to find some sort of friction. Your mouth popped off of his tip with a pleased hum. “Use your words, baby.”

He struggled to meet your eyes, his pretty blues looking straight through you for a moment before you snapped your fingers to catch his attention. He focused in on you, just barely, and you raised your brows. “Words, darlin’.”

He nodded absentmindedly, trying to gather his thoughts. “Please, oh— please suck me off— or— or fuck me, please,” he stuttered out, breaths coming quickly as he tried to process what he was asking for.

You closed your hand around one of his ass cheeks, avoiding the tender bruises. In response, you got a broken moan and a few senseless words of thanks. “Good boy, thank you for telling me what you need. Let me take care of you, sweet thing.”

Finally, you opened your mouth and let his dick fall onto your tongue, drool sliding down the length of it. You used your spare hand to collect the moisture, stroking it from where it fell from your mouth to the base of his cock. He sobbed above you quietly, eyes still fogged when you look up. The wiry hair scratched at your hand as you held his base tightly, allowing yourself to take him into your throat carefully, but not wanting him to let go just yet. It was a struggle not to gag, as it always was, because his cock filled your throat with so pleasant an ache. Still pushing your thighs together, you shifted your weight slowly to try and find some relief against your clit, moaning harshly around him when you succeeded, punching a groan out of him at the vibrations.

The hand that remained on his ass started to squeeze again, working its way between his cheeks. You sunk your middle finger in, searching for his rim. Finding it rather quickly, you reveled in the loud, strangled noises he made as you circled it with some pressure. He begged and pleaded for more nearly incoherently. “Oh god, please, oh my god,” was most of what you pieced together. Not deigning to pull off of him to respond, tongue and mouth still working around him, you pushed those two fingers in gently, more harsh crows tearing from his chest.

Distantly, you mourned the fact that you wouldn’t get to take him down your throat entirely, needing to keep that hand there for his sake. But still, you were having your fun and getting off on just this, your spit dripping down his cock and onto your wrist, and the middle finger from your other hand teasing lightly around his most sensitive spot. He was sobbing above you, hands balled into fists as he approached the edge but couldn’t quite reach it.

Quiet whines, praises, and pleas left his throat, high-pitched and needy; putty in your hands. Your jaw had begun to ache rather quickly, the sheer girth of him making the fun short-lived. So, pulling back and standing up, you told him to get on the bed. You tore your own shirt and pants off of your body, needing your overheated skin exposed to the air.

Rhett had laid down face-up, just how you’d wanted. Walking up to him, you slipped a finger between your thighs to show him just how slick you were. You were positively aching: throbs of pleasure were radiating through your hips with every step you took, the sight of his cock twitching against him and the sound of his whimpers only exacerbating the issue.

When you reached the bed, you climbed up onto him to straddle his face, his eyes following your pussy eagerly. “Oh fuck,” he whined, hips canting off the bed with desire, before you wrapped a hand around the base of his cock again, He panted below you, breaths completely erratic as you settled down onto him. Your hand tangled in his hair, balancing you directly over his open mouth as you kept a tight clutch on his dick. Licking eagerly into you, Rhett pushed his hips down to try and keep from thrusting into your fist. As a reward and in order to satisfy that ache, you ground down against him. His nose caught your clit, and you groaned a guttural sound that sounded like you were being torn in two. Again, and again, his nose caught your clit, and you felt that tightness ratchet higher and higher within you. After one more good grind down against his open mouth, his tongue trying to work its way inside of you, you let go, collapsing forward as you let his cock go, one hand clutching tightly into his hair and the other against the headboard. Shocks wracked your body, moans leaving your mouth entangled with expletives in a stream. You sat atop him for a few more moments, still clenching lightly as you tried to gather yourself.

When you finally felt that you’d recovered, you dismounted his face with one more grind and strutted to the bathroom to get the strap-on, sure to sway your hips for the boy watching. You pulled it and the lube from the cabinet you kept it in and rinsed it thoroughly, removing any dust that may have settled since you last used it— purely a precaution, but you were nothing if not thorough. Having shook most of the water off and slid the harness and vibrating dildo on, you shut the bathroom light off and emerged to find Rhett face-down on the bed, knees spread below him and hands clutching the sheets beside his head.

“Oh, darlin’, you’re so smart. Just what I wanted to see,” you crooned, one hand coming up to smack the unbruised part of his ass as you approached the bed. He rocked forward with the impact, arching his back towards you as he cried out.

You popped the cap of your water-based lube and slicked your fingers, warming them up for a moment before tracing circles around his asshole and slipping two fingers into him. With a loud moan, he pressed back against you, ignoring your command to stay still for the first time that night.

Smacking him lightly again, you scoffed lightheartedly. “Already fucked stupid? Stay still, baby.”

He nodded, sobbing muffled apologies into his pillowcase as you worked another finger in. Taking his sobs as a good enough apology, you grabbed for the base of him again and pressed gently at his prostate. He wailed into the pillowcase, his head flying back and forth as he struggled to keep still for you.

When you pulled your fingers back, he settled down a little, just enough to catch his breath. Moving up enough to level your hips with his, you smiled down at the sight of his farmer’s tan-striped back arched against your flowery sheets, the perfect composition of beauty, before you pressed the head of the silicone cock into his ass.

Slipping past his rim, you continued to slide in slowly, letting him adjust to the width of the toy splitting him. You didn’t use this one often, usually opting for the thinner pink one, but you really wanted to fuck the brains out of him tonight. It seemed that this toy was the right choice for that objective, because he was babbling mindlessly into the pillow, drool seeping from the corner of his mouth.

With a smile, you pulled your hips back, then slammed into him with all of your might, sure to angle your hips down. He screamed into the pillow, hands fisting the sheets as he let go, streaks of come spurting onto the bed as he shook like a leaf. “Fuck!” You heard, the first intelligible word you’d gotten in minutes. He rocked back against you and continued his babbling, still recovering from his last orgasm but wanting more.

With a smile, you continued to rock into him slowly, stroking up and down his back with a nail for a few minutes to allow him to recover. When his breathing seemed to return to a steady pace and his hands had returned to an open position, you reached down to flip on the vibrator, the harness resting against your clit perfectly.

He jumped at the sudden change, but quickly melted again with a moan when he realized what happened. “Oh my god…” he sighed, hands balling into fists once more. You rocked into him slowly, testing the waters, before slamming your hips against his ass and setting a grueling pace.

The vibrator allowed you to find pleasure, steadily building both of you up as you whispered praises to the cowboy underneath your hands. You ran your palms along his ass, squeezing occasionally to get a garbled moan out of him.

Angling your hips down, you set yourself to getting him off at the same time as you, because you felt yourself rapidly approaching that peak. “C’mon, baby, I know you can do it,” you murmured half to yourself and half to him as you nailed his prostate. He rubbed his face into the pillow at the thrusts, trying desperately to muffle his desperate sounds.

You leaned back and wrapped your hand tightly around his cock, throbs resonating through your hips as you tried to hold on. Just as you were about to give up and let go, he wailed into the pillow and thrust his hips into your palm, hot, sticky ropes of come falling onto the bed. Content, you thrust into him one more time to rub your clit harshly along that bump in your harness, letting go with a cry of your own and grinding your hips against his as you rode it out. The waves died down, your walls still clenching lightly as you pulled off of him and discarded your harness in the bathroom sink. You grabbed a towel and ran warm water over it and wiped yourself down before repeating the process and bringing the cloth to the bedroom.

He murmured your name, reaching back to stroke your hair when you bent over his back to kiss his neck. “Roll over, baby,” you murmured against his skin. With a groan, he obeyed you, his eyes cracking open to meet your own.

You tenderly wiped his thighs and ass, wary of his hiss of discomfort, meeting his eyes again and only continuing at his nod. You folded the cloth to swipe quickly at his sweaty armpits and chest before you tugged him out of the bed, throwing the blankets (that had luckily been at the foot of the bed) to the floor, stripping the sheets, and removing the bed cover. You turned to tread to the linen closet to grab the extra sheets, turning over your shoulder to see him behind you, butt-naked and tired, coming to help you.

You waited for him to catch up and pressed a kiss to his shoulder, continuing to walk to the closet and collecting the sheets. After you’d returned to the bedroom, you struggled to put the fitted sheet on together, threw the flat sheet on top, and reassembled your bed set.

Utterly tired, you collapsed into bed together, your head lying on his chest and feet curled behind you. You turned to press a kiss to his bare chest, eyes closed, and whispered against his skin, “I love you, Rhett.”

He pressed a big, scar-mottled, and calloused hand to your hair and bent to kiss your head: you felt the rumble in his own chest and the swell in your own when he opened his mouth and got nothing coherent out, his “I love you too” sounding more like an “Aluh’y’t…”

#rhett abbott x y/n #rhett abbott x you #rhett abbott x reader #rhett abbot x female reader #rhett abbott x f!reader #rhett abbott smut #rhett abbott pegging #sub!rhett abbott #sub rhett abbott #rhett abbott #rhett abbott fluff #rhett abbott angst #rhett abbott fic #rhett abbott fanfiction #outer range #outer range smut #az writes

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